#brown oak cabinet front
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ramblegalore · 1 year ago
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Traditional Home Office - Built-In Large elegant built-in desk porcelain tile and beige floor home office photo with beige walls and no fireplace
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owlwithafringe · 2 years ago
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Kitchen in Cincinnati
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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 24 days ago
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House Calls.
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Professor!Terrence x Aaliyah
Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his college buddies bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student.
Part Two
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The calming effects of the incense burning within his Acadian–style home in Baton Raq. Lauryn Hill playing from a vinyl record was enough to ease his mind after grading over thirty midterm papers. Terry shut his laptop and released a soft sigh. He reached up with his long fingers, taking off his glasses. The burning at the corners of his blue-grey eyes caused him to rub. He was exhausted and in need of a long vacation somewhere tropical after this semester ended.
He pushed away from his elegant, black oak wood desk to stand, stretching his long legs and flexing his quads. Terry wore a boxy–fit graphic T-shirt with a photo of Nina Simone printed on the front and thigh–hugging drawstring, black shorts. His feet covered in long, black Adidas socks led him towards the door to his home office. He would have stepped on the tail of his British Brown Shorthair cat if he hadn’t spotted him creeping between his legs as he walked.
“Orion, watch out…”
The cat slowly moved away, staring up at Terry with its golden eyes.
His stomach grumbled. Terry remembered that he’d had leftover red beans and rice. He walked into his spacious kitchen, opening a cabinet to grab a soup bowl and then he strolled over to his silverware drawer, grabbing a large spoon. Ex–Factor faded in the background while he scooped the last of the food into his bowl. He paused, snapping his fingers in remembrance of the honey butter cornbread he’d made to eat with it.
After warming his food, Terry didn’t bother sitting in his dining room. He leaned over the counter and tucked into his food, appreciative sounds between bites mixed with his spoon scraping the side of the bowl the only noise. His tongue slipped out to catch a few crumbs from his lips after scarfing down the last of his cornbread. Terry shook his head and rubbed his belly as he cleared his mess.
“Damn good,” He muttered while walking towards his sink.
He accepted the burn of his muscles from his morning workout while crouching down to grab some surface disinfectant from beneath his sink. That let him know he went hard in the gym. His tongue smoothed over his teeth to get rid of food while he used a Bounty paper towel to clean. His eyes flicked to the window in his kitchen when he’d heard loud voices passing by his home.
The Apple Watch on his wrist with a stainless steel band alerted Terry to a phone call. He headed back to his office and reached over his desk to grab it from the charger.
“Wassam Bitch!”
Terry released a boisterous, deep laugh. All his teeth showing.
“Cousin! You good?” Terry replied.
“Chillin’ fam. Just left Unc house…”
“He straight?”
“You know how he do. Was in the garden wit’ his woman picking tomatoes and shit. I had to break it to ‘em that he ain’t invited tonight. HE CAN’T COME!”
“Mike, don’t do Unc like that…he wanna be there to support his son.”
“No old heads, TJ. We discussed this. I don’t want him getting a heart attack seeing all that buku ass clapping.”
Terry snickered with his phone to his ear as he made his way into his living room. He wanted to break in his new furniture.
“Layla snoopin’ ‘round the house. She heard about the strippers…”
“Thought you said she was cool about it?”
“She is. But ya know…”
Terry made a face on the other end of the line. He knew how his cousin could get. Tonight is indeed about fun, but if Mike messed up, Layla wouldn’t take him back a second time. Out of all the men attending, Terry is the most levelheaded. Majority of the men in his family and Mike’s friends were a bunch of crazy motherfuckers. He already knows how tonight is gonna turn out.
“No fuckin’ up, Cousin.” Terry stated.
“Already, Marine.” Mike joked.
——
She did a slow two–step with a roll of her hips in a sinuous manner to the late, great Aaliyah – she was honored to share her name – and Tank.
Can I come over? (Can I)
Come over (Stop by)
Come over (To see you)
Come over (Tonight?)
Can I come over? (Can I)
Come over (Get with you?)
Come over (I just wanna)
Come over (Be with you, baby)
Can I come over? (Can I)
Come over (Stop by)
Come over (To see you)
Come over (Tonight?)
Can I come over? (Can I)
Come over (Get with you?)
Come over (Just wanna)
Yeah (Be with you, baby)…
Bonnet on her head, a tank top that’s way too cropped and showing off under–boob with skimpy hot pink boy shorts covered her curvy frame. Aaliyah had just finished making her bed, freshly laundered sheets feeling cozy beneath her hands as she spread out the wrinkles. The next song on her Slow Jamz playlist was Ciara–Promise. Aaliyah tapped the side of her mouth in thought while staring at the neatly stacked money on her side table. She didn’t feel like digging for her mini safe tucked in the back of her closet, but she needed to put the money somewhere safe.
She made almost three grand. Aaliyah really enjoyed herself a week ago at the Fire Station. She craved that attention and excitement. Doing content from home was great, but to show out in person? Oh…it stroked her so good. She was so damn ecstatic that she came home and rubbed one out with her fingers deep in her pussy. Making a man react the way he does to her literal being just ignited something in her.
Aaliyah placed the money in her safe and organized her closet. After that, she grabbed herself a bowl of green grapes and crawled into bed. She popped a grape into her mouth while watching re–runs of P–Valley on mute, eyes reading the subtitles. She already knew what was going on, just something to distract her. She rocked her body in bed to Donell Jones–This Luv, lip syncing and snapping her fingers.
She wondered what Professor Richmond was up to…
Aaliyah kissed her teeth at her lingering thoughts. This week was filled with tension. She walked into that classroom on Wednesday, hauling her school bag and a pep in her step. She dressed in skater jeans and a tight Ed Hardy T-shirt with a gray hoodie unzipped.
“Today class, we’ll discuss morality…”
He had a tiny sculpture of Aristotle in his hand, long, manicured fingers grasping it firm. Today, he wore a perfectly fitting, short sleeve, mock neck black shirt with charcoal grey slacks and black loafers. The glasses on his face reflected the light perfectly whenever he moved his head. It was something about his eyes today that just…drew Aaliyah in. They seemed brighter.
She propped her elbow on her desk and rested her chin in her hand. That foot started to bounce beneath her desk, and when his eyes met hers, she had to turn away to simmer down the butterflies. Something embarrassing happened in the middle of his lecture. She forgot to turn her ringer off, the lyrics to P*$$Y Fairy playing.
Don't be surprised, baby, it's just me (Just me)
Don't be surprised, boy, when I bust it wide
I hypnotize you with this pussy (Pussy)
Now you feel like you can fly—
“Sorry! Sorry…”
Aaliyah silenced her phone and with a sheepish smile she allowed her eyes to roam the class, catching on to a few snickers. She felt heat creeping over her honey skin. Aaliyah bashfully tucked hair behind her ear, and then her sultry gaze connected with Professor Richmond’s.
He had one brow quirked up and his eyes were unblinking and concentrated on her firm. He was the first to slowly pull his eyes away before clearing his throat to finish speaking. That look in his eyes…
After class, Aaliyah approached his desk to drop off an in class assignment. She left her hoodie at her desk. Terry was standing there, propping himself up against his desk with his fingertips. He allowed his eyes to scan her body. She paid attention to the way his piercing eyes fixated on the exposed skin of her midriff. A quick circular motion of his eyes on her breasts caused her to part her lips, the tip of her tongue between her teeth.
“Here?” Aaliyah pointed to the pile of untidy papers.
“Yes.” Terry replied with a slower tone.
She slipped it there, patting the top of it. Terry clenched his jaw, his eyes returning to his laptop.
“Have a good day…”
He couldn’t stop himself from standing at his full height. He exhaled a long breath, his eyes trapping her.
“Yes, Ma’am. You as well.”
Aaliyah gave him one final once over, her eyes doing a double take to the veins in his arms…
Damn…
She walked away, the silence in the lecture hall unnerving. Terry crossed his arms in front of him and rocked back and forth on his heels. He lowered his head and shook it from side to side with a smirk. Aaliyah made her way out of the room, itching to look back and wave, but instead she looked back and gave him one final word.
“Sorry about my ringtone…I know it was inappropriate…”
Terry licked his lips, “Don’t even remember the lyrics.”
They chuckled, Aaliyah finally leaving the class.
——
Stickin' to the code, all these hoes for the streets
I put it in her nose, it's gon' make her pussy leak
Pussy niggas told, ain't gon' wake up out they sleep
You can't hear that switch, but you can hear them niggas scream…
That imposing beat had the house jumping off. Like That lyrics bounced off the walls, hyping up the room full of men that came out to support Mike.
Got your girl in this bitch, she twirlin' on the dick (he was once a thug, he was, he -)
(He was once a thug, he was, he -)
I got syrup in this bitch, turn up in this bitch (he was once a thug, he was, he -)
And it's 'bout the 'Ercs in this bitch, get murked in this bitch (he was once a thug, he was, he -)…
Terry wore an oversized tank top in beige with the sides cut low, giving you a peek at the muscles in his biceps and obliques. He gave himself a fresh line up and moisturized his low curls. Straight fit, light wash jeans hugged his lower half and he wore a pair of crisp, All White’s. Terry bopped his head precisely to the heavy bass, green solo cup in his hand between his lips. The gold Cuban link hanging from his neck matched the gold Cuban chain on his left wrist and the gold band of his Apple Watch on his right wrist.
The front door opened, more handsome black men pouring in and greeting everyone. Terry saluted the ones he recognized and shook hands firmly with those he didn’t. Terry knew the lyrics to Kendrick’s verse word for word. When the ‘Big Three’ line came up, everyone chimed in. Smile on his face, Terry headed towards the kitchen to fill his cup and mingle with some family he hadn’t seen in a while. He couldn’t believe his little cousins were old enough now to attend functions like this.
“This nigga freaked out already!”
One of Terry’s little cousins, Malik, who just turned 21 sucked his teeth at everyone laughing. Terry did notice the way he kept checking the door for the strippers every time it opened.
“They ain’t here yet, nigga!”
Mike entered the kitchen with enthusiasm and shades on. Terry caught the smell of weed on him when he approached his side. Terry picked up his trucker hat to clear some space from the kitchen island for more liquor bottles. A big ass bottle of Hennessy caught Terry’s eye. He was currently sipping on jungle juice.
“Got that shit that turn you into a beast, TJ. Real King Kong shit!” Mike shouted over the loud music.
“I see you came through,” Terry held the neck of the Hennessy bottle firm, veins in his arms popping out.
“We about to see TJ in rare form tonight!”
Terry shook his head at the men surrounding him all agreeing. He refused to let it get to him. He wasn’t the same tall, lanky kid from Red Stick. Wasn’t the same teenager who got picked on in the schoolyard for being too quiet or too nerdy. He was a grown ass man with intellect and vocabulary beyond the slang words and a muscle strength so powerful he could take down an entire room full of wannabe gangstas. But, he didn’t wear that on his sleeve. He remained stoic with his strong and silent presence. Tonight, however, he’d let himself enjoy what was to come. He had his money ready. He just hoped they were deserving of it.
He was a hard man to impress.
“Make yourself a stronger drink, Cousin. We got all night….”
Terry was more of a bourbon guy. But there wasn’t any around and he refused to bring his good shit for everybody to help themselves to. He poured Hennessy into his cup and took a sip. It was cool.
He sauntered towards the spread of party food they had catered. The smells made his mouth water. He grabbed himself a plate and piled fried chicken, smoked turkey greens, gator bites, mac and cheese, and whatever else he could fit. Today was his cheat day.
Terry ate his food while standing, catching bits and pieces of conversation here and there. On one end of the room, a group of men, most likely Mike’s friends, were laughing at whatever was on one of their phones. Across from him in the kitchen, there’s a debate about which they’d prefer: no ass and big titties or a big ass and no titties. Terry snorted. Childish behavior.
Tha Biz-, the Bizness
Uh, I like a long-haired, thick redbone
Open up her legs, then filet mignon that pussy
I'ma get in and on that pussy
If she let me in, I'ma own that pussy…
Terry didn’t care much for the mac and cheese. Too dry and not enough flavor. Every thing else was delicious. He tossed his plate and excused himself to the bathroom. He climbed the stairs to the guest bathroom instead of the basement because he was informed that the basement was reserved for the ladies who plan to entertain them tonight.
He relieved himself and flushed before washing his hands. He checked himself in the mirror making sure he hadn’t stained his new shirt.
“Ladies Ladies Ladies!”
Terry could overhear the commotion downstairs.
“The basement is all yours…hey, Keisha, lookin’ good…nice to meet you…don’t worry, the groom ain’t here right now he went out back…”
That sounded like Mike’s best man and bestfriend, Cliff.
“Take your time ladies…don’t rush the process…we won’t complain TRUST ME…”
Terry left the bathroom and walked down the stairs at the same moment they closed the basement door behind them. His eyes that appeared blue–green in the dim light scanned the room, taking in the eager and impatient looks on the faces of men ready to throw cash.
“Fuck you mean they gotta get ready? Type of shit is this here?” One dude complained.
“They work at Crazy Horse, Bruda, you know how them dancers are.”
“Busted and dusted,” Another replied with a drunk cackle.
Terry held up the wall, cup in hand, tripping off of the conversation.
“Kiesha thick ass can get this anytime, anywhere…but that one that walked in last? Man…”
The man that spoke, short in height with a bald fade and teeth lined with gold caught Terry’s eyes and shook his head as he blew air out his cheeks. Terry smirked into his cup.
“She the truth. I wanna see what she do…”
“She one a ‘dem pretty natural ones…rare.”
That interested Terry. He paid closer attention.
“Probably taste like sugar.”
“Im’a put my tongue in it!”
Cliff cracked the door to the basement. He stuck his head between the opening and shouted down the steps. Terry could hear him communicating with one of the dancers. He shut the door quickly and motioned for his friend to pause the music.
“I’m a grab Mike. It’s about to go down.”
He did the Birdman hand rub as he rushed away to collect the groom. The room started to flood with the others, all too anxious to get a glimpse and participate in the fun. Terry pat his back pocket, feeling the folded stack of cash he’d brought. He had more tucked away in his wallet just in case. Mike entered the room cross–faded. He moved with unsteady legs and a bottle in hand, the contents almost spilling onto the carpet.
Terry grabbed the bottle and sat it down on a table.
“AIGHT! ITS ABOUT TO JUMP OFF YA’LL READY?!!!”
Someone activated the strobe lights and the room flooded with ultraviolet light. The melanin in the room looked a deep blue beneath the black lights. Terry knocked the rest of his drink back and sat his cup down next to the Hennessy bottle Mike was holding. From the corner of his eye, he could see someone carrying a chair out from the dining room. They forced Mike to sit, Terry laughing at his cousin’s goofy smile.
Ear Drummers
Strippers
Mike WiLL Made-It
Bands a make her dance
Bands a make her dance…
The door opened and Terry locked his eyes forward, cupping his mouth and howling along with the others.
——
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Aaliyah couldn’t control her indecisive habits if she tried. She’d spent majority of her day into the early afternoon cleaning and now her room looked like a disaster. It was nearing eight and she still couldn’t decide what to wear! Keisha was gonna kill her ass…
Aaliyah flipped through her clear tote filled with old outfits from her stripper days. She was about to give up and settle for a neon green fishnet set until she spotted a bright pink holster top with matching bottoms. There were hot pink fishnets with the back cut out for her ass that she could pair with it. Oh! pink pasties over the nipples would spice it up real nice. Aaliyah remembered her seven inch stiletto heels with rhinestone fringes. Perfect. She quickly grabbed it and worked as fast as she could, glancing at her phone.
So far, Keisha hadn’t called her. Aaliyah slipped off her satin, black robe and flung it over the chair situated in front of her vanity. She already applied her body oil with the aroma of fresh peaches blended perfectly with a hint of the tropics creating this rich, sweet, sultry scent. Her favorite fairy dust body powder clung to her soft skin and glittered in the light like diamonds.
Aaliyah tied the last tight bow on her bottoms before sitting to slip on her heels. She decided to go with a light beat, not wanted to wear anything too heavy and end up sweating it all off. She tapped the screen of her phone and with twenty minutes left, she swooped her edges and sprayed oil sheen over her two, long braids. Her French tip fingers smoothed down as much frizz as she could to keep it neat.
Situated in front of her body length mirror, Aaliyah admired the final look. Lastly, she tugged on a white, bodycon dress with a sway of her hips.
Buzz Buzz…Buzz Buzz…
“Hello?”
“I’m outside. Diamond and Precious is in the back. You ready?”
“Yeah,” Aaliyah grabbed a pair of black, thong flip flops, “heading out now.”
She ended the call and with one final sweep of her room, she turned off the lights and headed straight for the door. Stanley cup in the crease of her arm, she locked her front door. Aaliyah angled her body, descending the stairs carefully. She didn’t want a repeat of what happened a year ago. She sprained her ankle so bad she couldn’t dance for two months.
Kiesha rolled the window down to her Hellcat, smoke billowing out. Aaliyah rolled her eyes. She did not want weed smell lingering on her. Keisha leaned over and opened the door since Aaliyah’s hands were full. She climbed in and shut the door, Keisha not waiting a moment longer before hitting the gas hard. Aaliyah looked over at Keisha with a mug on her face while her friend laughed.
She noticed that she was the only one ready. Aaliyah looked back at Diamond and Precious. Redbone Diamond had her bubble gum pink frontal pinned up while holding a Hello Kitty compact mirror as steady as she could, drawing on her thin eyebrows. She had on a matching camouflage, short set. Aaliyah recognized that set from Fashion Nova. Her eyes moved towards Precious. Precious was a tiny girl. Petite and spunky. She had a buz cut dyed blonde. She was wearing her outfit beneath a tube dress while puffing on a fat blunt. Her eyes squinted at Aaliyah before giving her a toothy grin filled with braces.
“How ya’ll been?” Aaliyah asked.
“Good!” Diamond replied.
“Straight! How ‘bout you?” Precious said.
“Been good. Dealing wit’ school. Good to see ya’ll. Ready for tonight?”
“Can’t wait!”
“Turnt!” Diamond shouted before snapping her mirror shut, “Pass that here…”
Aaliyah relaxed into her seat.
“Girl, you told me to be ready by eight. Why the fuck you ain’t dressed?”
Keisha reached back, accepting the blunt while one–hand whipping the car.
“Cliffy told me we could use the basement if we needed to. I brought all the goods just in case. The coochie spray for Diamond—”
“BITCH don’t get hurt!”
Aaliyah chuckled.
“You got your LED plug?” Keisha asked Aaliyah excitedly.
Aaliyah dragged her upper teeth over her bottom lip with a mischievous smile.
“Nasty bitch….lemme see it.”
Aaliyah leaned her body against the door so her meaty buns could face Keisha. She lifted her white bodycon dress over her cakes and with one hand, she spread one hefty cheek. There, buried in her ass, was the LED plug. It lit up like a pair of sketchers. Keisha giggled.
“Girrrrrlllllllllll I told Cliff about you…”
Aaliyah fixed herself and straightened up in her seat.
“Keisha, don’t set me up with no nigga. No more of that shit.” Aaliyah retorted.
“I didn’t set you up. He remembers you from Crazy Horse. When he used to show up on Tuesdays…”
“Keish, not that nigga…he ugly and his breath stank. You know exactly what to do to piss me off!”
Diamond and Precious cackled in the back seat.
“His dick big.” Keisha replied as if that would change Aaliyah’s mind.
“Bitch, big dick, little dick, a dick made out of the purest gold if phat ma don’t get wet and this heart don’t skip a beat I’m not finna give you my time. That shit is crazy…”
“You shake ass for an ugly nigga though.” Keisha argued back.
“THEY PAYIN’ ME! Girl…” Aaliyah kissed her teeth, fixing her lash extensions because the windows are rolled down, “How far out?”
“Ten minutes.”
They rode in silence the rest of the way while blasting a bounce mix. Keisha’s Hellcat slowed to a stop in front of a cute little house with a lengthy drive way. Kiesha parked on the grass and killed the ignition. She gave the blunt one final hit before tossing it out the window. The ladies exited the car and before the went inside, Keisha had an idea for them to take some pics and video before heading in. Aaliyah acted as photographer and videographer while Diamond, Precious and Keisha did their thing.
When they finished, Keisha begged Aaliyah to do a video. Aaliyah scoped out the area and yanked her dress off, darting to stand next to a white SUV parked haphazardly on the front lawn. Keisha moved her phone in different angles, Aaliyah staring back at her with a hand on the car and her ass moving like a tidal wave.
“Damn, mama…show out!”
Diamond and Precious clapped their hands in time to Aaliyah’s twerking.
“Cool it nah,” Aaliyah shooed them off before putting her dress back on, “You see that?”
The other ladies followed her gaze through the windows of the home. They all gawked at the amount of men throughout that house.
“Dayummmmm…we leaving chubby tonight. Money, money, money!” Diamond said.
This was Aaliyah’s vibe. Although she had a ball at the fire station, nothing compared to a room full of black men. She grinned beautifully and squealed. They grabbed their things and Aaliyah was last to trail behind because she forgot her thong flip flops. Keisha knocked on the door boldly and it opened two seconds later.
It was Cliff.
He hugged Keisha and kissed her cheek. Cliff did the same greeting for Diamond and Precious. However. He held his hand out for Aaliyah. Her sultry eyes flicked to Keisha then back at Cliff. She accepted his hand and he guided her inside softly, his eyes scanning her body.
“Liyah Alllure…mmm, mmm, mmm…”
“Hey you,” Aaliyah titled her head in greeting with a sweet smile.
“Still just as gorgeous…happy you could join us tonight.”
“Happy to be here…”
“Ladies Ladies Ladies!”
Some dude with a skinny frame and a gold grill greeted them. They all said hello, ignoring the men in the room eye–fucking them. Aaliyah could suffocate from their stares alone.
“The basement is all yours…hey, Keisha, lookin’ good…nice to meet you…don’t worry, the groom ain’t here right now he went out back…Take your time ladies…don’t rush the process…we won’t complain TRUST ME…”
Aaliyah remained close behind Precious as they disappeared into the basement. The door shut behind her with a soft click. They entered the finished basement and Aaliyah excused herself to the rest room. She’d been drinking water all day and needed to go before doing a bunch of dancing. Keisha got dressed while Precious and Diamond helped each other out on jewelry. Aaliyah exited the bathroom in just her pink, outfit with rhinestones to match her heels.
“How we goin’ in? One by one or?” Diamond questioned.
She was dressed in neon green. A full body fishnet outfit with black stilettos. Aaliyah was happy she decided on the ensemble she had on.
“One by one. I’m supposed to give the lap dance. After that, ya’ll come out. Simple.” Keisha said.
The intro to Bandz A Make Her Dance started playing.
“That’s me!” Keisha stood up. She was wearing a white cowgirl hat with a fringe bikini set to match and white stilettos. She reminded Aaliyah of Megan The Stallion with her blue hair cascading down her back.
Keisha climbed the stairs and when the door opened, howling and yelling pierced her ears. The other three ladies shared a look with each other and laughed.
“I’m a need some liquor.” Aaliyah said.
——
Terry’s bottom lip sat between his teeth to contain his laughter.
When the first girl entered, going by the name of Keisha, he loved her vibrant personality and spit fire attitude. Keisha had the men in that room foaming at the mouth. She sashayed over to Mike with that brazen attitude and revealing body. Ain’t no way in hell she could fit that white bikini set and that was the point. Terry’s brows rose in surprise at Keisha straddling Mike. Her bountiful curves almost swallowed him while he was in that chair. Big ol’ ass and fat titties. That country thick you got lost in.
Terry grunted when she turned and made that big, fucking ass clap in Mike’s face. His thick brows knitted together and he shared a look with a friend before chuckling. Mike didn’t know what do to. He kept his hands to his sides, grasping the back legs of the chair he was stuck in.
“All that ass, Mike!”
“You better get it in while you can!”
“Suffocate that nigga, Keisha!”
“You good down there groom?” Keisha teased.
Money flew in the air when she plucked her top off. When them titties dropped, Terry’s large hand stuffed into his back pocket. He didn’t make it rain yet, he was waiting for Keisha to do something special. The body was crazy, but where’s the tricks?
“Throw that shit, TJ.” His friend nudged him with his elbow.
Terry ignored him.
Keisha stood up and went down to the floor in front of Mike in a split. She made those twin globes dribble and that was good enough to earn some of his cash. Terry leaned over the back of Mike’s chair and flicked two Benjamin’s on her. He watched it connect with that ass before falling to the floor. Keisha arched forward and spread her cheeks before going into a head stand.
She shook her legs and clicked her heels before dropping into another split.
“THERE YOU GO!”
“Baby going stupid…”
“Buku ass…”
Terry remained close. Keisha’s eyes locked onto him and it was enough to bring her to her feet. Terry held her steady gaze, a smirk teasing his thick lips.
“You a pretty nigga, ain’t you?” Keisha walked up on him with her hands on her hips, “What’s your name?!”
“TJ.” Terry replied.
Keisha pushed her breasts up with her fists in his face.
“Like what you see with those green eyes. A pretty boi like you ain’t used to a woman like me, huh?”
Terry’s tongue grazed his bottom lip and he locked on to the dizzying motion of her fat tits. Bringing his eyes back on her, he displayed a bill and sat it in the crease. Keisha leaned forward and grabbed the money with her teeth.
“Keep impressin’ me and there’s more for you…”
Keisha had to blink out of a trance. Terry had this unspoken power that rendered her speechless. To top it all off, that deep baritone shot straight to her clit.
“Come get this money, baby!”
Keisha pulled herself away from Terry, but not before dragging a hand down his chest. The look in her hazel eyes told him she wanted to do more than give him a lap dance.
She wanted to spin on that dick.
The door pushed open and the next girl to enter had pink hair. She was a cutie.
“I’m Diamond…”
When she turned, Terry looked away.
A BBL. A bad one at that.
He folded his money back up and made his way to where he stood earlier. The other men in the room were probably so used to seeing it that it didn’t even phase them. Terry watched Diamond do her thing. She hit the splits, shook that ass as best she could, but it was boring. Terry filled his cup and just vibed, laughing at the way some of the men in the room went bonkers over her. Even Mike was stuck. Mouth wide and eyes equally wide.
Next came a tiny girl that showed off acrobatic skills and flexibility. Terry had his money out again and he made it rain on her. She made that little booty shake. Keisha was making her way around, grinding and talking shit. Diamond allowed some of the men to grab ass. The three women scoped out Terry and winked at him. He played nice with Diamond and slipped her a crisp bill. With the tiny one named Precious, he tipped more.
“Where’s Liyah?!”
Cliff scanned the room. Another girl?
“There’s more?! Ahhh shit…”
——
Aaliyah watched from the bottom of the stairs as Precious made her entrance. She wrung her hands and exhaled a sigh. She didn’t know what to expect past those doors. Aaliyah applied more gloss and with a shaky hand, she grasped the railing and climbed. They kept the light off to avoid being spotted right away. Aaliyah stared through the crack of the door at Precious working the room.
So many…so many men.
The floor was covered with money.
She allowed her eyes to scan, taking everything in. As her eyes swept past the groom in his chair, she couldn’t see the entire room because of the door, but the sound of Cliff’s voice let her know it was time.
“Where’s Liyah?!”
“Put on her old intro!”
That was Keisha’s voice.
Aaliyah felt her nerves settle. The blacklights and the song reminded her of Crazy Horse. This was her walk out song….
Waka Flocka Ft. Roscoe Dash–No Handz Instrumental.
With one hand Aaliyah pushed open that door and stepped one shaky leg out past the darkness. The ultraviolet light caused her skin to twinkle and the blue hue made the pink she wore pop. She fully came into view, her tongue curled up over her top teeth to tease and those ‘come fuck me eyes’ staring into the faces of horny men with the money she wanted.
She allowed her body to rock to the beat. Aaliyah turned her back on everyone, brought her hands up, and gave them a thunderous applause with that beautiful ass before arching her back. She twerked those honey buns and looked back at it before a lusty smile appeared on her lips. Both hands twirled her braids while she rocked those hips.
Back. Forth. Back. Forth.
Bounce, Bounce, Bounce
*clap clap clap*
Nobody wasted time throwing money. She could work that entire room on her own. Aaliyah got down on her hands and knees, crawling like a jungle cat before turning to show off that LED plug while twerking.
“You see that shit?!”
“Hot damn!”
“Fuck, she’s nice.”
“C’mere pretty lady…”
“Freaky girl!”
That song…she owned it.
She staked her claim on it.
She spread those legs on her back and gyrated, thighs separated and the barely there crotch of her pink bikini covering her meaty pussy lips. She rubbed the money that rained down on her into her pussy and around her breasts. They…were…obsessed.
The way she looked at you, it made you feel like the only man in the world worthy of her attention.
How nasty she talked…
“I better see some thick bulges tonight, boys…”
On her feet, Aaliyah strutted dangerously slow, further into the crowd of men. As her eyes swept, she came across a pair of blue eyes that reminded her of a bottle of Hypnotiq beneath the blacklights. Too familiar…
Holy FUCKING shit…
She tried to mask her surprise but his was so boldly present.
The Professor.
His jaw dropped, eyes widening in disbelief as if a sudden jolt of electricity had coursed through his veins leaving him momentarily stunned. To others, it could seem as if Terry was so overwhelmed with how motherfucking fine Aaliyah is that he couldn’t even function. She knew the real reason. She simmered down her astonishment as best as she could and turning away, focusing on a cute guy with thick locs to his shoulders.
Her heart raced. Panic consumed her.
She had no time to panic.
“Prettiest thang in Louisiana…”
Aaliyah cupped her breasts covered in nipple tape and licked her lips. She could feel Terry’s gaze burning a hole into the side of her face. She was nervous. Oh so nervous. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Everybody was too drunk or too hype to take notice.
all except Professor Richmond. He could see right through her.
What the fuck was he doing here of all places?!
She blended in with her girls and tried her best to shield herself from Terry’s view.
That intensity in his eyes this time around left her shaken up.
Aaliyah pushed herself to perform. The space was too cramped. They scattered to watch her hit a clean split and when she glanced over her shoulder, Terry was right there. Like he appeared out of thin air.
He was standing above her. Towering over her. She had no choice but to look up.
Aaliyah couldn’t hide. She couldn’t if she tried.
“Back up, TJ. I’m tryna see all that…”
He was shoved to the side and Aaliyah felt the rain of money on her while she avoided Terry’s hard eyes zeroed in on her ass. He was so stuck.
Her breath hitched at the way he looked at her. Like he wanted to ravage her.
Her eyes glided down his frame and she loved the way he dressed. He looked delectable.
“Arch that back, bitch…”
“Yeahhhh…”
Aaliyah grabbed her ankles and made each cheek dance on its own. The heavy bass and quick melody of the bounce song compelled her to shake some ass.
The sound of her pulse in her ears drowned out the music. She locked eyes with him again and for once she grew timid. His eyes drank her in and when she lifted one leg up to pop that ass he chewed on that lip and tilted his head to see how that pussy looked from that angle.
You like what you see, huh?
“You got skills baby…Think you can show me more?”
Terry cut his eyes at the men circling Aaliyah.
Things were turning up like a raging storm.
“Pull that pussy part…”
They wanted to see her pussy. Aaliyah giggled and trailed a finger between her legs before rubbing it against one of their noses. They enjoyed that way too much. He tried to suck on that finger but Terry yoked him up by the wrist. The dread head looked at Terry like he was asking for a death wish.
“We don’t touch unless they say so…remember the rules.”
“Let go, nigga. I don’t need you tellin’ me what the fuck to do…”
“Woah, woah, woah…”
Aaliyah used that opportunity to disappear. A prickling sensation shot up her spine. She slipped down into the basement and hid herself within the darkness.
She needed a second.
“Get it together, Liyah…”
Aaliyah picked up a shorty bottle of Paul Masson Peach and took a long swig. She recapped the drink and scrunched her face from the burn. Aaliyah shook out her hands to stop them from trembling. How was she going to show her face in class on Wednesday?
All she would be able to think about was the shock on his face. There was no turning back. Aaliyah drank some more. She needed the liquor to get her through the rest of the night. The door to the basement opened and Keisha appeared. She had a look of concern on her face.
“Li–Li. You okay?”
“I’m fine, Keisha. Go back up. I was just feeling a little queasy that’s all.”
“Some shit was about to pop off. Did they touch you without your consent?”
“It’s cool. I’ll be up…”
“Don’t lie to me Li–Li…”
Aaliyah gave Keisha a reassuring smile.
“No reason to lie, mamas. I’m feeling better,” Aaliyah pushed herself up, “C’mon…”
——
Frozen.
When that door pushed open and she crept out like a sex goddess, he almost spilled his cognac.
Aaliyah?
The small hairs across his arms stood on end. Desire rushed in the moment the initial shock faded.
*clap clap clap*
Gahdamn…
He knew it. He fucking knew it.
That body outta be in a museum. This fine ass woman held a confidence so powerful he could bend at her will.
Terry Richmond sucked in a breath when her eyes connected with his.
He saw the power drain from her like Superman to Kryptonite. Terry’s chest grew tight. She drew in closer, his mouth unhinged. The glitter on her skin and the smell of her sweet fragrance made the big boy between his legs react.
Down boy…
He fought the urge to palm his bulge because it was growing out of his control. He didn’t know where to look first. Those titties sat up round and perfect. That ass was so fat he wanted to sink his teeth in it. Leave his imprint on that thick fucking shit. His eyes still lit up like Miracle on 34th Street from the glow emitting from that asshole.
Freak nasty.
He was speechless. His star pupil is a Stripper.
The biggest plot twist.
Terry wanted her even more. He wanted to tell her that it was going to be okay and she didn’t need to feel embarrassed or afraid. He could sense she was trying to avoid him as she moved around the room.
Terry needed her to know that he liked what he saw.
They weren’t in his classroom. It was okay to free her inhibitions and show him what Liyah Allure is all about. He found her popping ass and talking shit.
“Tip me, daddy…”
“You want it?”
“Don’t just stare at me. Spoil me…”
Honeyed voice as smooth as silk. Terry drew in closer and allowed himself to be consumed by her.
The glitter on her skin looked edible and if he could lick every single fleck off with his tongue he would.
The dip in her spine leading down to a full ass with hips and thighs to match told him she could take it deep and it would be a warm, tight, wet paradise.
He did say he wanted to escape somewhere tropical…
Those two braids would be anchored around his hands while he drilled deep with every goddamn stroke of his fat dick.
Unh…Unh…Unh…
Make her weep on his dick.
Professor…Professor…Don’t stop…
There she was.
Those eyes focused on him again and he saw the hint of shyness.
“I wanna pull that pussy part…”
Something primal and predatory sparked within him. Aaliyah stroked her lower lips with a single finger and shoved that finger against Darrell’s nose.
Darrell tried to take it too far.
Terry was quicker.
He wrapped his large hand around Darrell’s wrist with a vice grip similar to a boa constrictor. He would knock the daylights outta Darrell and leave him slumped over if he so much as put that finger in his mouth.
Darrell was stunned by Terry’s strength and the fact that he couldn’t break free. Weak ass nigga…
She disappeared.
Mike came over to settle down the growing altercation and with a pat on Terry’s back, he walked away in search of Aaliyah. She was nowhere in sight.
Terry waited for about ten minutes and then she resurfaced from the basement with Keisha. She probably needed a moment to gather her thoughts and energy. His presence stumped her.
Aaliyah scanned the room until she found Terry.
She got down on her hands and knees and popped ass in a split. Nobody else in that room mattered. She locked in on him from across the room. Terry sipped his drink and watched her.
“Who wants a private show?!”
Keisha pointed at Terry.
He gave a quick nod of his head. Keisha was about to be let down. He ain’t want nobody but Aaliyah. She was getting the rest of his money tonight. She deserves it and so much more. And when Terry gets his hands on her…
“I’ll take one. But I want her.”
Aaliyah saw the cash in his hand and smiled.
“Only if she ain’t scared.”
Aaliyah couldn’t believe he just said that.
“I get the impression she likes to tease…”
Aaliyah walked up to Terry with a seductive look in her eyes. He held onto her gaze with his money on display.
“Your call, beautiful.”
Aaliyah stared at him for another moment before taking him by the hand and down into the basement.
——
Terry allowed her to guide him. They headed towards the sofas, silence hanging between them. Aaliyah turned fully to face him before Terry took a seat. Without taking his eyes off of her, he placed his cup on the table and settled back into the cushion. Terry spread his thighs and with one hand over the top of the couch, the other smoothed down his left thigh invitingly. Aaliyah dropped her eyes to his lap and with a faint smile, she took a seat where his hand once was.
Aaliyah watched him spread his money out across his other thigh. She parted her glossy lips a fraction, eyeing nothing but one hundred dollar bills. Her eyes lit up. Terry looked up at her with low, lust filled eyes and a sly smirk. He removed his glasses with one hand and folded it against his chest before sitting it on the table, all while staring at her.
She looked at him.
He looked at her.
“…I don’t know what to say…”
Aaliyah’s eyelashes fluttered as she blinked away from him. Terry used his thumb to gently pull her attention back towards him.
“I should be embarrassed right now…”
Terry was trying to keep his composure but her breasts in his face was melting his cool exterior.
“Aaliyah…I don’t want you to feel embarrassed. I’m not judging you…”
She giggled nervously, “maybe not…but this was so unexpected, ya know?”
“Very. How long have you been doing this?”
Aaliyah stared heavenward shyly while deep in thought. He liked seeing her like this. It was another side to her he enjoyed.
“Well…this in particular…it’s my second time. Stripping…I did it for about five years before I quit Crazy Horse a year ago…now I just film content and work Verizon part time.”
Her eyes connected with his again.
“So…what do ya want me to do? A lap dance? What?”
Terry trailed his eyes down her body.
“Do whatever makes you feel comfortable…”
Terry’s hand molded into her back. Aaliyah shivered. The feeling of his hand on her skin was exhilarating.
She stood, facing Terry. He placed his money beside him, and his hands out of the way. Aaliyah straddled him, bracing herself on his shoulders. She looked down at him with a slow blink and the erotic smile she gave him forced his hands into fists.
“Have you ever had a lap dance before, Professor?”
“…Call me Terrence.”
“…Terrence…”
“Once. It wasn’t memorable.” Terry responded with a hushed tone.
He reclined his head back slightly and stared up into her eyes with practiced restraint.
Aaliyah gave him a mean whine over his crotch. Her chest would graze his goatee ever so slightly. He had to stop his tongue from poking out to drag between those titties.
“Ooh, that’s too bad…is this okay?”
That melodic voice…
“You’re doin’ just fine, Miss Aaliyah.”
Terry flexed his fingers. Aaliyah looked down at his hands.
“Can I admit something?” Aaliyah asked with a sultry smile.
“What’s that?”
Aaliyah tucked her chin and giggled softly. She blinked away briefly before her eyes met his again.
“What?” Terry pushed.
“I think about you every day…”
“Enough to stick around after class?”
Aaliyah’s bottom lip sat between her teeth. Terry smiled.
“Why did you turn me down?” He questioned.
Aaliyah dragged her hands down his chest and stilled her hips. Terrence rested his hands on the sides of her thighs. He couldn’t resist. Aaliyah didn’t protest.
The feel of her against his hands. The heft of her on him. The images he pictured in his mind…
“I’m not an easy girl, Terrence. You gotta work harder for me. I wanted you to…”
“Chase you.” Terry concluded with an elevated brow.
“May seem silly but…it turns me on.”
“I wonder what else turns you on…”
“That brain of yours,” Aaliyah trailed her fingers through his short, soft curls, “Your passion…expressive hands…your voice…those eyes…”
Terry licked his lips, “I would have chased you and went along with your lil’ game. If that means I get to play with you in the end…”
His eyes dropped to her lips.
“You do this…tongue bite thing…I like that…” Terry said.
“What else you like?” Aaliyah asked softly, doing exactly what Terry liked. Displaying the tip of her tongue between her teeth. Moving it back and forth…
“Everything about you…you’re so damn sexy…the way you look at me just…Aaliyah, you’re aware of your beauty. That confidence lights a fire under me, baby…”
“I’m baby?”
“Mhm, the prettiest baby…”
Aaliyah played with his Cuban link. Terry’s right thumb stroked the beauty mark below her lip.
Terry groped her thigh with his free hand and glided it up to her waist. He used his thumb to trace circles into her soft skin.
“I don’t like how you put your finger on Darrell’s nose.”
“You wish it were you? Darrell didn’t get a lap dance…”
Aaliyah lifted from his lap and turned so that she was grinding against his tent with enough pressure to rub her pussy over it. The hard bulge against her fat, lower lips caused her to moan.
Terry threw money over her, his ears enjoying the way her moans sounded so angelic despite her naughty actions.
After all, she is The Dark Angel.
“Aaliyah…”
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That signature look back would have had him busting a fat ass nut in his jeans.
The way she moved her hips on him.
“I want you so fuckin’ bad…”
“I know.”
She smiled.
Aaliyah stood from his lap and Terry groaned deep.
“Times up.”
He glared at her with lust and frustration. Aaliyah leaned over him with her hands on the back of the couch. Their eyes connected and her glossy lips feathered over his.
“Until next time…I think I’m free for that lunch on Wednesday…”
She brought her lips to his cheek and with her jeweled tongue, Aaliyah dragged it over his ear tantalizingly slow. She pushed away from him and Terry stood from the couch. He fixed his attire while Aaliyah stared up at him with faux innocence and her hands crossed behind her back. She swayed back and forth, parting her lips to rest her tongue in the corner of her mouth.
“It’s a date.”
@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @helloncrocs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter
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hometoursandotherstuff · 9 months ago
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You KNOW there's no HOA here, so be free, purple lovers. All I can say is wow. 2004 contemporary home built in Eugene, Oregon has 4bds, 4ba, asking $1.85M. I know house prices are out of control, right now, but I swear this house looks no more than $765K, tops.
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In this aerial view, it shows the house painted white on top, so which is it? Love the purple barn.
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The large front porch. Purple doesn't go well w/some colors. I don't care for it w/black, too much, but I really don't like it with this brown floor.
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The front room has the typical oak stairs with balcony. Is that a built-in cabinet in that weird little niche?
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Not much of a grand living room for $1.85M. Oh, look, there's a shelf above the bump-out- you can put shit up there.
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Very awkward layout. Interesting place for a fire extinguisher and bathroom, but it looks like someone is sleeping here.
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This bath goes straight thru to the primary bedroom, so there's a share situation.
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But, first there's a relatively small walk-in closet.
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The primary bedroom has double doors that open to the front porch.
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Open concept family room/kitchen. There's a wall of windows that open to a deck.
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The kitchen's not bad. I wonder if the wisteria over the sink conveys.
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Off the kitchen is a laundry room/pantry.
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This area would serve as the dining room, since there's no other formal space for it, and you can see it opens to the deck.
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There's a guest powder room. I like the sink.
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Pretty big secondary bedroom. Looks like there's trap door access to the attic, in the ceiling.
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This would be bath #2, with fish decals everywhere for an oceanic theme.
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This bedroom is larger and has 2 mirrored closets.
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This room is open to the mezzanine. It looks like it has a door and it does have an en-suite.
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Quite a large en-suite.
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And, finally, bd. #4.
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There's a large family room space up in here. Look at the cubbies along the wall. You could probably sit in there, too.
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The porch and wrap-around deck on the back of the house.
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That's the Willamette River going by.
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This is cute. Looks like a chicken coop. I hate when they put the dog house so far away, though.
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There are 12.27 acres of land, so the description is calling it an estate. (The Poiple Manor House.)
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/85627-Dilley-Ln-Eugene-OR-97405/48457156_zpid/?
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alpydk · 4 months ago
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Tattered Souls - The whole thing!
Gale x Rugan - Pining, strangers (mostly) to lovers, angst, romance
It hit under 10k words. I don't want to wait posting it in parts. It's done, I'm tired. Have it and enjoy it as much as I did writing it. My rarepair baby!
Ao3 Link
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“By the gods...” Rugan whispered, uncovering the glinting gemstone from under the indigo velvet cloth. The information had been correct for once, a small treasure trove of goods for the taking available in the supposedly haunted tower of Waterdeep. He’d kept silent, his leather boots soft against the creaking of the wooden floorboards, his movements experienced and automatic, but his voice, quiet as it was, had been enough to trigger the trap. “Shit.”
He’d disabled the spike trap, of that he was sure, the large, blackened switch obvious near the shelving as he’d entered the dimly lit room, but the arcane runes upon the oak cabinet had been practically invisible to his trained eye. He felt the spell travel quickly through his fingertips and up his forearm, a Hold Person spell meaning he’d be caught red-handed as soon as the owner awoke. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his calves tensed as the magic took over his body. A bead of sweat clung to his forehead, its journey to his blue eyes halted suddenly. If he could have cursed further, he would have, his lips held tightly against his will.
The candlelight flickered around him; a ruby held tightly in his grasp. How could he have been so reckless? Age had clearly clouded his judgement, and his reflexes were no longer what they used to be. He could hear the footsteps approaching down the hallway, his mind working quickly on either a decent lie or a bargain to get him out of there unscathed. He knew, though, this would be the last time he’d listen to information from a Guild member, especially Zenovia.
“Well, this is a not so pleasant surprise.”
Rugan heard the male voice nearing him from behind, an upper-class enunciation he’d learnt to despise over the years. He wished he could roll his eyes as he recognised the person stood before him, chestnut hair partially tied back, silver strands a mark of age and adventure, deep brown eyes, and the smuggest smile that needed to be punched away.
“Over the years, many a burglar and wizard alike have tried to steal from me, but a Zhent... Well, this is an unexpected turn of events.”
An abandoned wizard’s tower... Zenovia, I’m going to fucking kill you when I get my hands on you.
“Wait... I know you.” Walking around Rugan, the owner of the tower examined the intruder, dark eyes trying to pinpoint features that would draw out the long-buried memory. They rested on the thin lips that lay before them, a momentary halt of his investigation as if distracted. “Rugan, wasn’t it?”
The spell began to diminish, the pressure on Rugan’s lungs lessening. He wondered why his heart rate refused to slow despite now having the ability to escape his captor should he so wish it. He kept the ruby in his one hand, using his other with flexing fingers through dirty blonde hair to act as a distraction as he slid the red gem up his sleeve. This entire heist wasn’t going to be for nothing after all. As the magic released its grasp fully on him, he rolled his shoulders, the tension in his muscles more than it should have been for such a simple job. “And you’re the exploding wizard, from what I remember. Word gets around. Shouldn’t you be in pieces by now?”
The wizard smiled and held out his hand, forearms firmer than expected extended from a loose dark green shirt. “Gale Dekarios. Former exploding wizard.”
Rugan held his hand back, sceptical of the intentions that lay before him. He casually began to circle around, a need to get to either the door or the window in an impromptu escape without bringing too much attention to what he was doing. He wanted to ignore the energy in the air, the way his eyes kept falling upon the delicate fingertips in front of him. Get a hold of yourself, you idiot. He gritted his teeth and focused on the cool feeling of the ruby pressed against his wrist. “Well, Gale. Been great seeing you again, but I should be off.”
Gale’s hand remained extended, his welcoming handshake not lowering despite Rugan’s reluctance. “The ruby, if you please.”
“Ah... No idea what you’re talking about.”
A small smile emerged on confident lips, a quick flick of the wrist drawing the gemstone against the fabric of Rugan’s sleeve, its shape obvious. “I could always paralyse you again, if that is what you so wish.”
Rugan sighed, an annoyance that tonight had resulted in nothing but stiff muscles and a stirring in the back of mind that refused to shift. He took the stone out and clasped it in his palm, still hesitant to part with it. The candlelight reflected upon it brightly, a red glow dancing in his hand, and for a moment he stood back in the darkened cave, the smell of alchemical fire filling his nostrils, blood soaked into his leather armour.
The gentle touch from Gale’s fingertips drew Rugan out of his memory. He felt the magic of the weave warm his palm, saw the ruby slip from his hand only to be replaced with a small bag of gold.
Whilst speaking softly, Gale placed the stone back under the velvet cloth where it had once belonged. “A small word of advice from one whose own thievery has caused quite the debacle: Do not attempt to steal something unless you have all the information beforehand.”
---
Hours passed and Gale sat alone in his tower, the silence deafening. During his travels, he’d hoped to have come back to Waterdeep with Tav, but their many nights alone had meant nothing once he’d stupidly decided to propose. He’d been too hasty, too blinded by love to see it was not what she’d wanted, and with his ambition, he’d once again come to fail. Now he spent his days working at Blackstaff, research thankfully giving him many an excuse to lock himself away from the world. It was no wonder that Rugan had believed the tower to be empty when its inhabitant kept themselves secluded to a small study of musty tomes and inked quills.
Gale turned over the ruby in his hand, questioning why he’d even handed over the few gold. Had it been a moment of pity or had the stirring of his heart drawn him to want to form that connection? He remembered Rugan clearly from that year ago, one of tadpoles and uncertainty. Even as his chest had thrummed with the orb, he hadn’t been able to ignore the piercing blue eyes that had buried a grief on that day in the cave. They’d arrived too late to rescue the caravan, all but Rugan dead to the gnolls and hyaenas which cackled viciously, and Gale had ignored the rising beat of his heart as he watched the lone survivor trek out of the darkness, bloodstained and weary.
The memory dampened his spirits as he sat under the candlelight, but he pondered on why Rugan was in Waterdeep, what had drawn him to the City of Splendours, and more importantly, where was he staying? Rugan may have been a member of the Zhentarim but for the first time in a year, Gale felt something other than a deep loneliness; he felt the distant light of hope, knowing that a better time of his life was at last within arm’s reach. 
---
Days passed, and the markets of Waterdeep were busy, the perfect location for picking pockets and making an easy bit of gold. Stall owners haggled with the tourists, regular city folk looked for the best deals on fruit and vegetables, and Rugan watched as a young woman opened her purse, taking out a few gold pieces to pay for some overpriced tat which lay on the bench before her. He ignored the ache in his stomach, his last gold piece wasted on the ale at the tavern the night before. He knew it had been a stupid decision, but then he seemed to have been full of them in the recent months since leaving the Sword Coast. Watching the way the purse weighted down at her side, he guessed her to have around twenty gold pieces, maybe a little more, if he was lucky. He sided up next to her, his gaze passing over the trinkets in front of them both, and then, with no hesitation, turned suddenly towards her as he leant over the stall, knowingly bashing into her. “Oh, my apologies, lass. Eyes just aren’t what they used to be.” She looked into his pale blue eyes, his gravelly voice an instant distraction from the way his hand clutched at her purse. “No, it’s quite alright.”
He nodded his head politely, the charming smile working its magic upon her and with it he pulled himself away from her and the vendor, the small bag of gold tucked between his hand and the leather of his belt. He walked away into the crowd of bustling market goers, his mind already working out where to spend the money, what he felt like to eat and, more importantly, drink.
It was as he passed the darkened alley he felt the hand on his arm, warm and firm, pulling him out of the flow of people and into the narrow-sheltered passage between the towering buildings of the city. The gold he’d been counting in his palm was clutched tightly to avoid losing it; more of a worry over where the next coin would come from next rather than the fear that the Zhentarim he’d escaped from had found him.
Rugan felt his body uncomfortably pulled close to that of another, the broad shoulders and grip upon him warning him this was not going to be some nimble prostitute he’d run out on weeks prior. His instincts kicked in, his muscles tensing and holding him firm in position to avoid being captured or beaten. The gold was held tightly as his other hand reached for the steel dagger at his side. The one upon him loosened ever so slightly, an acknowledgement that he was armed and would not be taken so easily, and he breathed a small sigh of relief, trying to back up towards the crowds again.
“Wait.”
Rugan knew the voice, and with it recognised the smell of musty tomes and black coffee, not one he was used to when in so close a proximity to another person. He’d expected one of his former associates, perhaps even the Guild to be after him. What he hadn’t expected as he looked up and focussed through the shadows was to see that of the dark-haired wizard, a navy suit adorned with silver embroidery, standing in the dingy alleyway with a palm resting upon his upper arm. The hand fell from his side and although the stress left him with the knowledge he wouldn’t be captured today, a fleeting sense of loss passed by as he felt the warmth disappear from his body. “The exploding wizard returns. Didn’t think kidnapping was your style, though.”
Gale scoffed at him. “Someone must keep you in check, unless you’ve taken to adorning yourself with women’s purses now?”
A delicate finger was pointed towards the now empty purse, the knowing look, one making Rugan feeling judged for his actions. It was a feeling he was used to over his years of mercenary work, but from Gale, it made him almost feel...guilty. “A gift from a friend, none of your business, that’s for damn sure.”
Gale took a step closer to him, cracks of light shining over his features, his eyes almost glowing as if the Weave danced within and he gave a subtle smile. “So not pilfered from the young lady I saw you with?”
“Even it was; got nothing to do with you.”
Trying to step back a little was met with reflected steps, almost a dance within the confines of the shadows. Rugan halted his steps, Gale halted his, neither wanting the cat and mouse between them to end and yet neither wanting to point out the very clear hollyphant in the room. The air felt charged between them, the silence heavy, and neither moved as they waited for each to take the next step in their unspoken tango.
It was the sound of a woman shouting in the market that drew both from the tension. Rugan pocketed the gold in his palm, turning to look out from the alleyway. He could see the guards in the sunlight, the young woman he had stolen from explaining all she had lost and trying to recount where she’d been previously. It was only a matter of time before she figured out it was him. He considered merging himself into the crowd again and then finding a bar a little further away from the marketplace, possibly a brothel for the night if luck went his way, though it would need to be cheap. The hand on his shoulder pulled him back and the stern voice of Gale drew his senses.
“Give her back the gold and inform her you found her purse in the near vicinity.”
“Or, and this is just an idea, I could not.” Rugan could feel hunger stirring again, his temper fraying the more time he wasted. He wanted to slip into the crowd and vanish again, but something held him back, a whisper in the back of his mind, a longing stirring within that he tried to ignore. “Why did you even grab me anyhow? Was it just to lecture me on the ethics of pick pocketing?”
Gale stood close, his dark eyes reading the situation, knowing that no matter what he said, Rugan wouldn’t hand back that gold taken unless given something else in return. His heart beat a little quicker, a fleeting memory of his control the other night passing through him. “Lecturing is one of my better qualities, I’ll admit, otherwise it was to barter with you. You hand back the gold and I will, with copious amounts of wine, cook for you.”
The guards began to patrol the marketplace looking for anyone suspicious and Rugan knew his chance of getting away without drawing attention had gone. He could feel the rumble of his stomach, the thought of something home cooked and not just cheap salted pork being on the menu, a very tempting choice after so long in murky taverns. He looked over at Gale and sighed. “Just food, little conversation.”
“Of that, you have my good word.”
Pulling the gold from his pocket, he eyed it up one last time, seeing the night of the brothel vanish before his eyes, and slipped it back into the purse. “You better be a decent cook.”
//
They’d sat in uncomfortable silence for some time, the candles flickering upon the walls, the red wine flowing into the glasses without hesitation. Rugan ate without worrying about social norms, enjoying the meal that had been served to him. Even he had to admit that he’d underestimated Gale’s cooking ability, and he was happy with the fact that the agreement of little conversation was being stuck to. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to build a connection with someone else; it was simply he didn’t want to indulge the small voice in the back of his head, the one that told him to look upon the chest hair that trailed from the shirt across from him, the one that noted the poetry books on the shelves and imagined the dulcet tones they’d be read with. He simply didn’t feel that way about Gale.
 “Is good.” Rugan mumbled in between bites.
“I expect that it is. Cooking with a fully stocked kitchen isn’t quite as indulgent the experience as over a campfire using ingredients scavenged from the roadside.” Gale brought his glass to his lips, the full-bodied red welcome to dulling the senses. “But the amount of wine is interestingly enough the same.”
“Hm, yeah.”
Gale sighed to himself, an evening of broken silences not what he had in mind. “I know we agreed on a limitation in conversation, but there are some things that I’m rather curious about. Like, for example, what brings a lone Zhentarim to Waterdeep?”
“Ex Zhent...” Rugan mumbled through the last of what was in his mouth. “Where’s your bird?”
“Bird? Oh, you mean partner, companion.”
“Hm, that one from the cave with the nice-“
“Tav. She’s, well...” Gale thought back to the cold room of the Elfsong tavern, of her back to him as she walked out. “Well, I’m sure she is in good health somewhere in the world.”
Rugan took the hint, taking a swig of the wine. He could already tell that his tongue was becoming looser despite a hearty meal lining his stomach and the little voice that he’d managed to push down was now screaming at him to act on his heart’s desires. “Ah, right. Ended up with the elf?”
Gale chuckled. “Not quite, but not a tale for such an unusual evening.” He smiled sadly, the sight of Tav watching the flames at the party, so close and yet so far from his grasp, sitting in his mind’s eye.
The weathered hand reaching across the table and covering Gale’s softened palm was welcome but unexpected and he froze momentarily, lifting his eyes and seeing Rugan’s own staring back at him. For a few seconds, neither moved nor said a word, simply lost in the act of connection with one another. They sat in the welcome peace, the mindless tracing of a thumb on the side of a hand occurring as if it was the most natural thing in the whole of Toril.
It was curiosity that came between them, and Gale cursed his ambitious tongue as the words emerged, causing the warm hand to withdraw from his own. “So, an ex Zhentarim, I believe you said?”
“Yeah...” Rugan drew out the word slowly, not knowing how or even if he wanted to talk further about all that had happened since that blood spattered cave, but the empty bottles of wine before him had done their job in removing what little logic and reason he’d once had. “Got that job with the transport done with a few hiccups, as you know. Made it to Baldur’s Gate and then it all went a bit tits up.”
“In what manner?”
“Ah, your princess got all involved and stuck Roah in charge, didn’t she?” He thought back to the long walk from the graveyard in Rivington, Olly buried under the sun-touched earth. “Got back to the headquarters. Next thing I know, I’ve got a blade to my neck and a price on my head.” He tilted his chin up slightly, a pale pink scar lining under his jaw showing the history he wished to forget.
“Tav did what she believed was right for the city.”
The reply was met with a scoff. “The city or her pockets makes little difference to me. That bitch was my death sentence.”
Gale bit his lower lip, but it was not enough to hold back his temper that flared instantly at the insult to the woman he had once loved. “Or maybe it was your incompetence that brought about such punishment. Did you not think that even being involved with such a despicable organisation would one day result in something like that happening?” The words came out quickly, a venomous disdain, a year of hurt dripping from flushed lips. “No. You made your choices, and you have nobody else to blame but yourself.”
“Ah, yeah. Here it all comes. The mighty wizard with the easy life and no idea of how things in the real world actually work. Piss off with your judgement.”
“Easy life? Are you-” It would have been so easy to just list off the hardships: the orb, Mystra, his abusive father, Tav, but he held back, instead choosing to focus on collecting up the plates and cutlery, anything to take his mind off the seething anger.
“What, touch a nerve?” The alcohol was heating Rugan’s blood and not in the way he’d initially wanted. Now he wanted a fight, to let out the buried anger, to drown out the guilt that it had all been his own fault. “You live here in your tower, cast a bit of magic to get things done, get on your knees for that astral whore every now and again. Not exactly hardships, is it?”
The plate flew quickly through the air, smashing into the wall, Gale’s anger flaring in his eyes. The sparks flickered at his fingertips as he held back his rage, trying his best to compose himself. “Get out,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
Rugan didn’t even flinch as the object passed near his head, instead choosing to finish off the glass of wine before him. He lifted his drunken body to his feet, using the table as a support. “Don’t worry, not like I want to be here.”
Shuffling feet and the slamming of the oak door left the tower in a quiet depression. The wine bottles lay empty and the cosy atmosphere from earlier in the evening had gone, replaced with the lingering of heated words and unspoken emotions. Gale tidied up as if moving only with muscle memory, the ceramic plate left in fragments upon the floor just another regret to add to the pile in his life.
---
Rugan stood in the cold air of the Waterdeep night, his anger slowly dissipating as he breathed in the salted breeze that passed over him. He’d messed up yet again, was alone again with no one else to blame but himself. The job a year ago had been his fault; how he had drawn the caravan into the cave to be safe, but in doing so had created a prison they would all die in. Living thanks to Tav and her companions had left him to carry on as best he could, but he’d often wondered what he’d done to deserve a life when so many had died around him. Now he knew this wasn’t some miracle blessing; he’d just been cursed to more misery. Karma for the choices he’d made.
He walked down to the docks, his mind clouded by alcohol and guilt, a combination he’d become all too familiar with, and he looked into the murky waters. It would be so easy to join them. He thought over the cave, the faces of those he’d travelled with, of Olly, so young and naïve. The wooden board creaked underneath his leather boot as another step was taken forward. So easy.
The blow to the back of his head knocked him to the ground, and he felt the warmth of blood as it trickled down behind his ear. The world grew blurry around him as if he’d been caught in the waves he had wished to join, but before he could lift himself to find stability, another hit came, this time only leaving him in darkness.
//
Rugan’s wrists hurt, the bruising around making them stiffer than he was used to, and he knew that the job he’d agreed to wouldn’t be helped by it. He’d woken up in a dilapidated warehouse to the small feet of Friol in his face; her new role as leader of the Zhentarim in Waterdeep, one she had been taking very seriously. Thankfully, she’d had little to do with him over the years and so hadn’t killed him outright as Zarys, Roah, or really any of the ones he’d been associated before would have. Instead, he’d been able to make a deal with her, steal one poxy item for her and she’d report he was dead. Seems almost too good to be true.
He’d been right with this thought. She’d left him battered and bruised in an alleyway in the city, his head pounding, a rib or two broken, he guessed, and a deadline of only two nights to break into the Blackstaff Academy and steal the Rod of Rulership. Rugan knew the moment he woke up that he’d been a fool to accept the deal, but there was little he could do than what he’d ever done; get the job done or die trying.
---
Gale walked the empty corridors of Blackstaff, his colleagues having gone home for the day and nothing but the grand paintings lining the walls keeping him company. Dancing lights lined the ceiling and reminded him of his time lying under the fabric tent, the pale blue bringing him to calm on long nights. He’d found himself at the academy more often since the argument a few evenings prior, either working more hours or simply reading from the library as a better comfort than from the bench on his balcony. It was easier to concentrate without the memories of comments made and the mixture of guilt and anger swirling within. He regretted his harsh words and especially the plate, but it had been a more preferable option than the Thunderwave, which had been his knee jerk reaction.
He knew he’d judged Rugan unfairly from the very first day a year ago, watching as the Zhent had still acted cocky despite the bloodshed around, despite the knowledge that there was no out when it came to an organisation like the Zhentarim. Ex Zhent... Death sentence. Possibly it had been wrong to judge entirely. Maybe Rugan was right when mentioning the “easy life” of magic and towers. It was certainly a stark contrast to mercenaries, thievery, and being in the pocket of others against your will.
Walking the halls always gave Gale the same feeling of being judged himself, as if the faces of the past had their opinion of his actions. He’d always strived to be the best he could be, unsatisfied with all he’d achieved, never good enough, and the paintings merely hammered this in. His face would certainly never hang amongst them after all that had occurred with Mystra. He found himself gazing up at the most recent portrait, lost in the purple tones depicting the robes, wondering at what point it had been that he’d moved on from his own weave touched shades.
It was the flicker of a shadow from the nearby classroom that drew him from his thoughts, as if someone were moving with a candle in hand. In Waterdeep or any other location, this would not be unusual, but in an area where dancing lights were the more regularly used form for getting around at night, candlelight was suspect. He moved his steps towards the sight, the orange glow flickering around the room from wall to wall. Opening the door a crack, he could see the figure clad in leather armour rummaging through a desk drawer with the intent of finding something. The candle was placed down on the table, paper was thrown with little regard for the contents, and a quiet muttering could be heard as the intruder grew more frustrated.
“Key, key... bloody wizards...of course there’s no key.”
Gale recognised the voice and opened the door further, letting the conjured light of the hallway shine over the room before him. “First my tower and now my place of employment. Are you really so self-destructive?”
“Bollocks.”
The classroom door was closed behind him as he entered and approached slowly with a hand raised to show he was not there to carry on the fight of nights past. “Rugan, all you’ll find in here is a loose quill, certainly not the treasure you’re hoping for.” The candlelight flickered with the draft of the door, casting a light onto recent bruises caused by a determined beating. “What in the hells...?”
Rugan closed the drawer and looked away with a passing of shame fleeting over his eyes at the knowledge of his own appearance. He’d hoped the job would be easy; get in, get out, but now he’d been caught by the one person he’d hoped to avoid. He hated what he’d drunkenly said, hated that again he’d pushed someone away, hated that again his choices were proving to be his downfall. “It’s nothing, just took a stumble.”
Footsteps approached quickly past desks and chairs, a deep concern from dark brown eyes over the split lip and injuries. “This is more than a stumble.” Gale spoke, raising his hand up to the bruising and brushing his fingers lightly over the wound. “What happened to you?”
Rugan batted the hand aside, too much vulnerability flowing through him to feel comfortable, and he stepped back, feeling the cool blackboard behind him blocking a wanted exit. He could see the way the candlelight danced upon Gale’s features; how silver strands of hair turned to treasured gold. “Zhent business...”
“They tracked you down?”
“Would’ve eventually.”
Cautiously approaching, Gale reached again for Rugan’s cheek. There was another flinch to look away, another swing of the hand in the defiance of care, but each time with a little less resistance.
“What are you...?”
Gale pressed soft fingers to the face in front of him, turning it to see each blemish. He could feel the beat of his heart increase with each movement, and he glanced over the pale blue eyes in front of him before his own eventually settled on the slight cut over thin lips. Swallowing hard, he took the chance, a momentary lapse of reason as he leaned forward, his mouth finding Rugan’s, his hand holding the bruised cheek as the world vanished around them.
Rugan was quick to react, not with the defensiveness that had lain at the surface but with a deep adrenaline fuelled want that had plagued him since their first meeting. He was quick to push Gale back onto the desk firmly, a dexterous hand pressing down on the shoulder beneath with little regard for the injuries that cried out.
The intensity could be felt between them, hands drifting under clothing with yearning. Gale felt a familiar ache as firm thighs pressed down on him, and it took all his self-control not to start on the drawstrings which lay between them. His hands worked around the hem of the trousers thrusted upon him, the pads of his fingers finding a patch of flesh which differed from the thin scars lined around the abdomen.
Rugan’s movements halted with the sensation, a recollection of where he was and what he was doing. He looked down at Gale lying beneath him on the oak desk and pulled back further as the added realisation hit him. “That didn’t happen...” Standing to his feet, he padded down his clothes, giving out a quiet hiss as his palm hit down on an already agonizing rib.
“I apologise. I’m not sure what came over me.” Gale angled himself up on the desk with his arms behind him, his breathing slowing, and he tried to hide the rejection he was feeling, even if on some level he understood it.
“I just need to focus on the job...”
---
They walked silently through the corridors together. Gale had tried to talk to Rugan about the plan of stealing not just some random magic item but a powerful artifact, but it had all fallen on deaf ears and with that, neither had spoken further, especially not about what had happened in the classroom. Eye contact had become non-existent, despite each trying to sneak a glance at the other, and both buried the memories of lusting and wanting.   
Gale was the first to break the peace. “So, you acquire the rod, and then what are your intentions?”
“Then I give it to Friol, get told I’m free to go, and settle down with a pint.”
“And you trust the word of those that left you for dead in an alleyway, those who will most likely kill you even after you’ve done all of what’s required of you?”
“Not like I’ve got much other choice. So, yeah.”
“Rugan...”
“Look, mate. You’re a smart one. This is how it is, how it’s always been. Just accept it.”
Stopping in his tracks, Gale let out a heavy breath. “I can’t let you do this.”
“Well, good thing I don’t need your permission.”
“But can you not see that you’re just throwing your life away?”
Rugan turned back with his shoulders relaxed and resignation written all over his face. “Not much of one to throw away...” He looked around, noticing a large door to the right of the corridor. “Come on, open this one and then you can be rid of me.”
It wouldn’t be as simple as opening one door; it would be explosive runes, warding spells, or even the construct, if they were unlucky and weren’t paying attention, and Gale knew this as he stepped in front of the magical seal. “I’m not unlocking this for you. You have options. You could do better than this.”
The naïve comment was met with a scoff and an annoyed response. “You say that as if you have any idea what you’re talking about. Don’t see you with a noose around your neck.”
“No, you saw that a year ago instead.”
Rugan raised an eyebrow sceptically, looking over the figure in front of him as if searching for an answer to what had been said. Had he really seen it a year ago? “Nah, you guys chose your whole fight.”
“I wish it was that which I spoke of. Either way, it does not alter my decision.”
“Huh, figured the exploding wizard thing was about fireballs. I’m guessing not quite?”
There was a hesitation to give the whole story. “Hm. My own death sentence, in a manner of speaking.”
“Not all an easy life in a tower, then?”
“Maybe not as much to endure as what you have been through, but I’ve had my fair share of struggles.”
Both stood without words, an unspoken understanding being shared between them. Each had been through their own hardships and, though the outcomes had been very different, in some ways they had turned out very similar.
Rugan sighed, knowing it had all become a bit too sentimental for him. “Think you could just open the bloody door? It’s not hard.”
Leaving Rugan behind, Gale walked down the corridor alone, wishing he knew the words to change the doomed fate of the one he’d finally felt a connection with. “Sorry, but no.”
---
Rugan picked at the lock of the enchanted door for a while before inevitably giving up and thinking about another entrance to the vault. His wrists were feeling stiff, and he could feel himself becoming further frustrated with each piece of metal that snapped in his fingertips. Biting his lower lip to concentrate proved useless as his mind drifted to his behaviour hours earlier. He still could not work out what had happened, why he’d responded to the kiss in the way he had, in desperation. All he knew was that in that moment, as his body ached and his defences had lowered, he’d wanted it; he’d wanted the comfort that Gale could give him.
His last lockpick snapped and with it, so did his hope of reaching the Rod of Rulership. He slouched back against the door, rubbing a palm against the bruising around his ribs, wishing that he’d visited a cleric for some healing whilst he’d had the chance to. The options were to find a scroll of Knock somewhere in the rest of the academy, most likely also locked behind more spells, find another wizard he could con into opening the door, or just leave, escape to another city and start a new life once again. Neither seemed possible and so, like an injured cat, he thought of where he could crawl off to so that he could simply die alone.
---
Gale watched the shaded corner of the courtyard from his office. He’d noticed the three silhouettes lurking around out there, waiting amongst the cobblestones and statues. By the way they moved, he knew they weren’t staff or students staying late at the premises, and the glinting of weaponry made him even more wary. He’d heard no alarms at the academy, nor the sound of traps being triggered, so either Rugan had succeeded or had given up. Either way, neither filled him with confidence.
The shadows outside began to converge to a meeting point, one lone shape drifting towards them. Gale could make out the shape of Rugan carrying a large object in his hands: a quarterstaff or sceptre, but the colour was muted, not that of the magical artifact they’d gone in search of. Muffled shouting could be heard through the window and the staff was thrown to the ground before the armed figures moved in quickly on their target.
Gale instantly set up a Dimension Door spell, transporting him to the courtyard, his hands static with the lightning bolt he was prepared to launch. “Get away from him!” he snarled, drawing the attention of the surrounding mercenaries. He hadn’t realised another three armed with crossbows waited at the walls or that a sorcerer stood near the gate, prepared with their own flaming fingertips.
Rugan lay on the cool stone floor, crimson blood pooling beneath his leather armour as the dagger pierced into his side. The random quarterstaff he’d found propped in a classroom was meant to be enough to let him get away unscathed, but they’d seen through his ruse instantly, bloodthirsty and without mercy. He barely heard Gale’s voice as the world span and darkness closed in; there was only the warmth and sting of the blade.
One mercenary stepped forward, the black-winged serpent upon their crest confirming to Gale exactly who they were. She was light on her feet, with ebony hair that seemed to absorb any light in the area. “Not your fight, wizard.”
“I’m not here to fight, simply here with the intentions of aiding an injured man.”
She scoffed at his words, a smirk upon her lips. “He’s all fine, a little drunk. We’re taking him home, aren’t we, lads?”
There was a murmured chuckle from around her and Gale could sense the growing hostility. He peered down at Rugan, wishing there was a way out of this. Moving suddenly would mean the archers firing, but if quick enough, maybe another dimension door could get them both out of there without further harm.
“Just get out of here...” Rugan’s voice was weak, his gravely tones quiet, and he tried to lift himself from the ground.
Gale spoke calmly, keeping his eyes on the mercenaries in front of him. “Not without you.” He could unleash the lightning bolt and possibly fire a magic missile before being hit if he moved quick enough.
“This isn’t your fight.” A hacking cough brought up small amounts of blood, which were spat onto the ground. “Just leave.”
An arrow flew from a trigger-happy archer whistling past Gale’s ear and he almost unleashed the lightning bolt in reaction, stopping only as he saw Rugan stand before him in defence of the female Zhentarim.
“Gale, not your fight...”
With a frustrated sigh, the static ridden hand was lowered. “I can’t let them kill you.”
Rugan felt the blood on his palm, tasted the copper tinge mixing with his spit. All that was missing was the Alchemist’s Fire and Olly’s corpse to complete the set. “I’m already on borrowed time.”
A sharp voice cut through the tension. “Well, this has been all sweetness and light, but Friol’ll want to do this personally.” The mercenary lifted her sword and with no hesitation hit Rugan to the back of his head with the hilt, giving her a satisfaction as he crumpled to the ground. She signalled to the two others around her to collect him up, keeping her eyes pinned on Gale. “If you’ve got any smarts, you’ll take this as a lesson to stay out of Zhent business.”
Watching as Rugan was dragged away, Gale felt helpless. He knew on the Zhentarim’s terms the fight would be impossible to win and so if there was any chance of victory it had to be planned out, a game of lanceboard where he was down on pieces. There would be little time to strategise, only time to act and react, and with this thought, he started to move forward.
He would follow the Zhents to their base, and as he’d done a year ago, he would risk all to protect another. Creeping along in the shadows of the Waterdeep alleyways, he hated that his knees still ached as they used to be, but with the stars twinkling above came another welcome reminder of a year ago, of a time of friends, laughter, and most of all, love.
---
Friol was annoyed, not surprised at what had happened, but inconvenienced. She knew she should have just killed him outright and had done with it, sent in her crew to complete the job, but she’d trusted the whisper that Rugan was competent enough and so had let him be. Now he lay amongst the barrels and crates at her feet, his blood pooling beneath him and his breathing heavy.
 “You seriously thought that any staff was going to be enough?” she hissed through her teeth. “Absolute fool.”
There was little point in objecting, little point in anything really as he watched the multitude of shadows drift around him. He could smell the gunpowder stocked at the back of the warehouse, acrid and sharp, hear the whispers of the other Zhentarim around as they awaited his judgement. For his actions, he wouldn’t just be killed; they’d make an example out of him for all to remember.
“We all know the rules here, don’t we, lads?” Friol gestured around the room where various other mercenaries watched the sight, their quiet murmur becoming a joining of voices in unison.
“Everything—and everyone—has a price. // You are the master of your own destiny. Never be less than what you deserve to be. // The Zhentarim is your family. You watch out for it, and it watches out for you.”
Rugan did not hear the last of the rules he’d memorised over his years with the organisation. He’d said them so many times before, always in the same half-arsed way, never really believing the words and, as always, they seemed pointless now too. They were like religious beliefs, only ever useful when you were out of all other options, a prayer when all hope was lost. He’d been caught by the second line, though: You are the master of your own destiny. Never be less than what you deserve to be. Is this what he deserved, to die at the hands of scoundrels? He had been one of them after all, had stolen, smuggled, murdered. Nothing had been off limits over the years and though there had been moments of questions, they were nothing a shot of whiskey couldn’t drown out. You are the master of your own destiny. He’d made the choices; he’d lied and cheated his way here and, as such, his destiny was to die.
Friol’s voice was sharp over the din of those around her, cutting through and bringing order again. “Rugan here has turned his back on his family and for that, there’s a price to pay. What do we think about that?”
There was an outburst of anger, yells of murder and torture which overlapped, and he accepted each one as they came. Darkness fell upon him and there was nothing but the cave before him now, the metallic taste upon his lips, the smell of burning as the Alchemist’s Fire exploded. He heard the screams of those that died around him, the yelling of commands and the desperation that came with fear. The arms that dragged him across the floor were those of the gnolls, only this time, he did not fight back. He was ready to join each person who had died a year ago; this was the price to pay, for all his choices.
---
“What do we think about that?”
Gale stuck to the shadows of the walkway which run above the warehouse. Thankfully, few torches had been placed around due to the gunpowder that was being stockpiled, and he was grateful that at least some sense had been used by the Zhentarim. He could see Rugan practically lifeless on the floor, hear the risen voice of Friol as she riled up those around her. There was little time to waste as he threw the firebolt towards the barrels beneath him, running towards the stairs in a hope that the sudden chaos of the explosion would give him enough time and cover to get Rugan out to safety.
“Impero tibi!”
A sorcerer’s spell fizzled out into nothingness as a blur of crackling lightning and chestnut locks ran past. Gale was quick to launch the Magic Missile, beams of pink light emerging from his hands, some flying behind him, others forward towards confused mercenaries who scrambled for their crossbows. He saw as Friol grabbed at the sword at her waist, yelling commands to get the warehouse doors open, to kill both him and Rugan immediately. Smoke bellowed from the burning crates, and as the flames spread, more barrels blew open with splinters of wood and iron taking out anyone unfortunate enough to be close enough.  
A nearby blast was enough to knock Gale to his knees, and he cursed them silently before crawling under the blackened smog that filled the warehouse. A stray arrow whistled past him, hitting the stone in front of him, metal and wood snapping in two with the impact. His lungs filled with smoke and for a moment he felt as if the orb were back in chest, sapping his energy like the tightening of the noose once again around his neck. He could see Rugan not far from him, eyes closed, skin an off grey from smoke and blood loss.
The iron sword stabbed down as Gale pulled himself along the ground, missing his shoulder by centimetres, and with it he rolled onto his back, seeing Friol viciously staring down at him, ready for the next strike. “Detono!” he yelled out of reflex and watched as her small body flew back through the air into the smoke that now clogged his lungs.
“Veni et iuva me” It took the last of Gale’s energy for the spell to be cast, a translucent ball of light erupting over Rugan and him as he reached forward. The heat of the flames rose around them, and it wouldn’t be long before they found themselves trapped within the crumbling wreckage of the warehouse. Gale tapped at Rugan’s bruised cheek, getting no response. “Rugan... Rugan, you need to wake up...”
There was no answer, only the sound of the rafters creaking from the lick of flames. “Quod dico face.” Holding onto him as tightly as possible, casting the dimension door and dragging the limp body the short distance meant for a lucky escape. As both men appeared outside under the night sky of the Waterdeep docks, one last burst of flame-touched gunpowder brought the warehouse down into ruin.
///
Rugan awoke to a sweet medicinal smell around him and a cold compress draped across his forehead. He didn’t recognise the scarlet bedsheets he lay under or the shelves of books which lined the walls, and trying to lift his head resulted in a moment of dizziness. He let out a muffled groan as his head pounded with the unwanted sound.
“Try not to exert yourself too much.”
He felt a hand press down on the compress, holding him still to a pillow and a relief came as his eyes closed yet again, falling into a restless sleep.
---
Gale had spent some time since the warehouse had burnt down, carrying Rugan to the tower with the assistance of an Unseen Servant spell. Night had turned to day and as the grains of sand had passed through the hourglass, healing oils had been rubbed over every wound visible. The dagger had been pulled from Rugan’s side upon the bathroom floor, blood trailing into the cracks of the wooden floorboards as Gale had held on pressure in a hope that his experiences on the Sword Coast were enough to stop the bleeding. After that, it had just been a matter of time, dressing wounds and watching for any fever. He considered contacting a cleric, but with the Zhentarim having spies all over Waterdeep, he worried who would end up showing up at his door.
“Olly, lad...”
Gale listened to the mumbled nightmares. Some spoke of the massacre to the gnolls, others of what must have passed afterwards at the Guild Hall, but each time he reacted in the same way, of taking Rugan’s hand in his own and waiting for the silence to fall once again.
On the third day, the healing oils finally seemed to take effect and the cold compress could be removed. Rugan woke with the light from the window stinging his eyes and he found his fingers were entwined with Gale’s, who slept peacefully in a nearby chair. There was a warmth with the sunlight that drifted in, and the medicinal smell had passed, now drowned out by the scent of books and sandalwood.
Rugan could feel the ache of his ribs and he dragged his hand away so that he could sit up. Bandages wrapped around his abdomen and sweat-soaked sheets clung to his bare chest. He still felt weak after all that had occurred and as he looked around, questions began to form in his mind. How long have I been here? Where even am I? Why am I still alive? As he sat up, he groaned, feeling the flesh of his side pull tightly against the dressing. With it came the small feeling of disappointment, the pain proving to him he hadn’t died. 
With the sound came the stirring of Gale, who opened his eyes in confusion. Unsure of when he had fallen asleep, it took him a moment to gather his senses and comprehend what had occurred. He’d spent most of the time in the chair playing the part of the healer and as the nightmares had died down, he’d found his own eyes growing heavy with the need for sleep. Glancing over now, he saw Rugan sitting up with colour back in the bruised cheeks and curious pale blue eyes. “You should rest. Don’t worry, you’re at my tower. You’re safe here.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Roughly three days. The injuries you sustained were quite serious.”
Trying to move resulted in more pain. “How did you even manage getting me out of there?”
Gale gave a subtle smile before moving to the side of the bed and sitting down on the covers. He brought his hands to the pillows behind Rugan, helping him to sit up more comfortably. “After the mindflayers, the Netherbrain, Mystra...” There was a brief silence as if a memory were trying to claw its way out into the open. “Well, mercenaries in a warehouse full of gunpowder just don’t seem as terrifying anymore.”
Rubbing at his ribs, Rugan fell quiet. The question of why clung to his lips, and he fought against it. Despite being injured, being saved again, he still didn’t want to be seen as the victim. He pushed down the emotions that hit him as Gale grew closer, as the heat rose between them. Their fingers found each other amongst the bedsheets, hooking around one another and from there their eyes met.
“Why did you come for me?”
Gale had thought over that for some time, not just afterwards when they were both safe, but before as he crept through the streets towards the warehouse. Their interactions had been brief, usually including snide comments and judgement, but the pull they had to one another could not be denied. He felt, in some ways, that Rugan making the same mistakes he’d made in his life, just striving to be better but always falling short, and for that he had to save him.
He felt their hands together, the weathered skin from years of hard work stroking the back of his hand, and he gave a soft smile. “Because I refused to believe it was the end for you.”
There was a short huff and a smirk. “Gale, mate, you’re living in a dream.”
“Then let us hope I never wake.”
---
Steam rose from the water of the wooden tub and Rugan lay with his eyes closed, letting his body relax for what felt like the first time in years. He could feel the weave touched hands working through his hair, removing knots before letting running water run down the locks. He’d objected initially, but his strength failed him as he’d tried to stand from the bed and as such, he’d resigned himself to the evening of being waited on.
Gale’s hand worked down from the hair to the pink scar near Rugan’s jaw. “So, this was from Roah in Baldur’s Gate?”
“Hm...”
“And this one?”
“An arrow from a guard on Boareskyr Bridge.”
Fingers traced down a large scar that seemed to wrap around Rugan’s abdomen. It was more recent than the others, the texture that of which Gale had felt nights ago under a moment of passion. “And what of this one?”
Rugan pulled away uncomfortably, reaching for the edge of the tub to signal that his moment of vulnerability was over.
“It was from the cave, was it not?”
He ignored the question, bringing himself to stand only for his muscles to shake, threatening to drag him back down.
“Here, let me help you.” Gale stepped close, offering his body as support to be leaned upon.
“I don’t need your help.”
“Rugan, I apologise if I’ve overstepped. It was simply curiosity, something which I’ll admit is one of my many flaws.”
A long sigh was released. “It was from the cave...”
Gale nodded with understanding, now knowing the discomfort that had come with his actions. He stepped forward, wrapping a firm arm around Rugan’s midsection and helping him from the water.
“Was meant to be a straightforward job, but I fucked it up. Got a lot of good men killed that day.”
“And you blame yourself?”
“Noone else to blame; was my job, my choices. And we both know my track record there.”
They made their way to the bedroom together with Rugan wrapped mostly in a towel, but from it could be seen the large scar that spread up and around his abdomen, a clear burn of some variety. He continued to explain what had happened that day, how the Gnolls had attacked, how men had died before even getting into the cave, and how their screams could be heard as they were torn apart. Flasks of Alchemist’s Fire had been thrown, but it had not been enough, and he’d felt as one had exploded too close, causing the leather of his armour to burn into his own flesh. He’d had a potion to drive him through the pain, but he’d accepted his fate that day. “And then you lot showed up. Saved the day like some proper selfless heroes.”
Gale had no words of comfort he could offer; he simply hoped his touch would be enough to convey that he was listening and cared. Saying it wasn’t anyone’s fault would have been pointless and mostly likely met with arguments and so he chose to sit quietly, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb upon the top of Rugan’s arm.
“I just... I’m done with it all. I’m done with jumping between taverns and brothels, running for my life constantly. Be nice to just... end it all.”
“As someone who’s traversed that lonesome path, you’ll find no peace there.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Rugan looked over and saw the concern in Gale’s eyes. “Your noose was proper tight, wasn’t it?”
A light chuckle was let out. “For a long time, yes. I was resigned to my fate, embracing it, perhaps.”
“And now you’re alright?”
Placing a soft hand on Rugan’s cheek was really the only answer Gale needed to give, but the confirmation was whispered out nonetheless before a tender kiss met its mark. “I am now, yes.”
Rugan felt the heat rise in his cheeks as the flushed lips met his own but unlike the desperate reaction he’d had of previous nights, he instead relaxed into the kiss, letting his body fall back onto the bedsheets with Gale in complete control of how the night would go. There were no thoughts of the cave, of the Zhentarim, of whether this choice was another poor one on the list of failures; there were only the gentle touches laid upon his body, loving kisses on hostile scars, reward in risk.
---
They spent a lot of time in similar embraces over the following months, desperate whimpers and longing moans shared between them with fervour. Rugan had found the comfort he had been seeking for so long and Gale felt as he had a year ago: alive, with purpose and connection to another. There was always the worry of the Zhentarim or even the Guild appearing at their door, but favours had been called in from across Faerûn, mostly in the form of Astarion and his seven thousand spawn to act as a deterrent to anyone who got overconfident. With the destruction of the warehouse to a single wizard and now the rumours of another of the Baldur’s Gate’s heroes in the wings, the hunt for Rugan just did not seem worth the pitiful reward.
He was not used to his freedom for some time, finding himself constantly looking over his shoulder down dark alleyways, expecting Friol or another of his old associates to stab him in the back, but over time, things became easier. He still drank in the taverns, eyeing up the odd young woman that caught his fancy, but rather than escorting them to various rooms and falling into meaningless nights of indulgence, he’d chat with them, a smirk on his face, before stumbling back to the tower he’d eventually accepted was home.
Gale continued to enjoy cooking for the two of them, especially after he received the gift of a new plate, and though Rugan at times was crass and unrefined, it mattered little for the moments when they sort comfort in one another. There were nights of red wine under candlelight, discussions on the ethics of pick-pocketing, and on one occasion a tour of Blackstaff Academy after night had fallen, with one classroom, in particular, a main attraction.
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akronus-writes · 6 months ago
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The dragons eclipse chapter 2: Investigations into the unkown.
Hallowed knew that the Occult detective would take a while, and decided to requisition a room for which to work on the case from. returning to the front of the motel, He walked into the empty reception, its decor was a relic from the 80's, with dark oak display cabinets filled with old sports trophies flanking a large desk made of the same wood; the back of an old computer peeking up from behind the desk. approaching the golden bell next to the computer, Hallowed noticed a silver key attached to a black diamond shaped key charm with the golden number 15 emblazoned on the middle, sitting on a note next to the bell.
"we understand you might need a room to stay in while you investigate, and would happily give you one of our rooms for as long as you need." Hallowed spoke to himself, carefully picking the key up with his cybernetic hand and looking at the key, quickly scanning it with his cybernetic eye before walking off, looking for his room.
finding it on the other side of the motel, hallowed easily pushed the key into the lock and twisted with a satisfying click. pushing open the door and walking in, Hallowed found himself in a stock standard Motel room; with a king bed on the left of the room with a neat flowery quilt, two white pillows neatly placed side-by side under the wooden bed head, two oak bedside tables with pink lamps flanking the bed. on the other side of the room was a desk, a lone black lamp sitting on the far end of it.
closing the door behind him as he walked in, hallowed left the keys on the desk as he stretched, and began to undress. leaving his leather jacket draped over the chair under the desk, he left both his revolver and its holster, as well as his bandolier of specialized bullets on the desk. throwing the rest of his clothes, as well as the skull mask he normally wore onto the bed, he stepped into the bathroom. it was a small bathroom with only the bare necessities, its tiles were impressively clean for such an old building, a trait shared with the rest of the bathroom.
turning the knobs on the shower, Hallowed went to place his cybernetic hand below the stream of water before replacing it with his intact one. pleased with the temperature he stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash over him. instead of the pleasant feeling he was used to, he instead felt a strange emptiness, the water washing over his cybernetics not even registering to him, the reminder of his wounds removing and semblance of warmth the shower could bring.
turning the shower off once sufficiently clean, Hallowed dried himself with a towel before walking back into the living room and beginning to re-dress himself. as he went to pick up his shirt, he noticed his reflection in the full body mirror in the corner. he looked almost the same as always, the same short Brown hair, the same well-toned muscles, but different in some places. the entirety of his right arm, shoulder down, was replaced with a metal cybernetic, his right eye and parts of the face around it replaced with a similar metal, the eye replaced with a dull red visor. pulling the rest of his clothes on, Hallowed slowly picked up his Fedora and skull mask, hesitant to put them on.
stomaching his own hesitation, he placed them on, the skull mask hiding all of his face but the metal eye, its eerie red glow growing in intensity. turning back to the desk he saw a familiar part-cat warlock sitting on it, tail laying lazily next to the occult detective.
"Akronus," hallowed spoke, used to the occultists tendency to appear randomly.
"Hallowed" The occultist spoke, re-adjusting the black face mask they wore.
the tense silence hung in the air as Akronus dropped down to the floor, pulling back their long black hair and cat ears with a gloved hand, letting the streak of red fall to the front of his face. the two stared at each other for a moment, Akronus' red irises dulled by the red glow coming from Hallowed's cybernetic eyes.
"I see you've become more chaste," Hallowed noticed, observing the pants Akronus had swapped their usual booty shorts with.
"why, you wound me! I just thought these pants would help my transition from villain to vigilante. plus, I kept my signature sleeveless shirt! oh, and don't get me started on what I've been doing in my free time-" Akronus began.
"we don't have time for verbal recounts of your many supernatural partners, we need to investigate the disappearances," hallowed quickly interrupted, both wanting to stay on task and avoid the topic of Akronus' sex life.
"fineeeeeeeeee, what's the thing you need me for?" Akronus responded, annoyed at their allies seriousness.
"I found shadows in the alleyway behind the motel one of the disappearances happened in," Hallowed matter-of factly responded with.
"ok, so did it stick to your body, exist with the sun shining on it, or try to eat you?" Akronus asked, treating the topic as a normal occurence.
"existed with the sun shining on it, any ideas what it is?" Hallowed replied, drawing his notebook from his jacket.
"ah, possibly shadow demon residue, I'll go run some tests on it to confirm that," Akronus answered after a few seconds, leaning forward.
"good, you do that and I'll go look through the first victims room," Hallowed responded before walking out the door.
"on it!" Akronus walked off to where the strange shadow was.
on the other side of the Motel Hallowed approached the room the Mexican drifter had lived in, reaching a hand out to the door, he twisted the handle to find it unlocked. Walking into the room, hallowed quickly noticed the first signs of something being off.
the bed looked like somebody had been sleeping in it, but was yet to get up, the quilt was laying on the mattress, messily covering most of the bed, and both the pillows and the mattress still had the imprint of what looked to be a 20-25 year old man of about 5"8 height.
on the other side of the room the lamp on the desk was unplugged, papers messily spread across the desk haphazardly with a duffle bag thrown up against it. approaching the bathroom, Hallowed opened the door to the bathroom to find a relatively normal shower, the only difference from his own bathroom being the soap and shampoo bottles, a common brand, most likely from a nearby store.
walking back to the papers, hallowed reached to turn on the room lights to illuminate the papers, only to find that flicking the switch did nothing. Crouching down and plugging in the lamp, he found it didn't turn on either.
Standing on the bed and puling the light bulb from its socket, Hallowed saw that it was completely fine. Rushing over to the lamp he carefully pulled out its bulb, and found the exact same was true with the lamp.
Activating the X-ray system of his cybernetic eye, Hallowed followed the trails of the wires that connected to both the power socket and the lights, looking for any breaks. Following the wires around the room, Hallowed found no discrepancies in the wiring for the room until the point that all of the wires in the room connected and began to join the rest of the motels power network, where a quick scan showed a strange energy radiating at the wires, seemingly blocking the electricity.
Quickly collecting the files on the desk, Hallowed put them in his jacket before standing up on the handrail, and pulling himself onto the roof. Carefully walking down one of the crevices of the valley like roof of slanted red tiles. Hallowed approached where the wires would be corresponding to the location of the roof.
Crouching down, Hallowed saw the source of the energy, a small square piece of white paper with a strange, almost runic symbol on it, radiating that energy. Picking the paper up and taking a photo of it with his eye as a precaution, Hallowed noticed through his eye that the Drifters room had gained power.
As he walked back to the edge of the roof, Hallowed heard the sounds of somebody running nearby. Pulling himself up onto the top of one of the peaks, Hallowed saw a figure wearingin a shadowy cloak holding a double-sided sword, face covered in shadows, standing on the nearby chimney.
"I'm guessing you aren't here for a chat?" Hallowed quipped as he drew his revolver. But as he did the figure leapt towards him at superhuman speeds, slashing at Hallowed with his sword mid-draw.
part 1 part 3
@f4y3w00d5 @gobodegoblin @monsterfucker-research-wizard @anyone else who likes my writing
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riveramorylunar · 2 years ago
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Ms. Theron
Pairings: Professor Charlize Theron x Student Reader
Warnings ⚠️: Professor x Student relationship, mean Charlize, age difference, height difference, bruises, mentions of Underground fighting, a little Angst, crying, comforting & Charlize is a softie for her student Y/N
Pet Names/Nicknames: Darling, Pretty Girl, My Dear & Char
Word Count: 3,009
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It was the first day of senior year at a new school for Y/N. Her and her family moved around constantly and never stayed in one place for long. She didn't have any friends because of that but she didn't care. She liked to spend her time reading and drawing sometimes writing. She wanted to be a writer ever since she was 7 when she met a famous author. The school she was going to was an all girls school which she didn't mind. No men or boys were allowed in the school unless they were an officer, firefighter or doctor.
"Thanks for the ride Papi" Y/N said as she kissed her father's cheek. After saying goodbye and hugging Y/N hopped out of the blue truck. She shut the door behind her and looked up at the big school. She breathed in and out before walking towards it. She walked into the school and saw girls everywhere. The school walls were grey stones with dark blue lockers against them. The floor was made of grey wood that had a hint of shine to it. The ceilings were white as snow. The classrooms had black desks and metal chairs and 1 or 2 computers in the back corner of the room. There were 2 dark brown cabinets in the back of the classrooms as well. The cafeteria had tan rectangular tables they held up to fifteen chairs. The bathrooms had grey marble sinks and silver mirrors as well as black stalls. The teachers lounge was the only room that had carpet which was dark grey. The school Library had dark oak wood shelves, stone pillars, and black railings. The tables were white and the chairs were wood. There were a couple of beanbag chairs scattered all around the library.
Y/N headed towards the principal's office as she looked around at the beautiful school. When she arrived she knocked on the door and opened it after the principal said come in. She walked in and shut the door behind her before looking up to see the principal with a woman standing in front of the desk. "Ah Miss Y/N am I correct" the principal said and Y/N nodded causing the principal to smile. The woman that was standing in front of the desk turned around and Y/N held back a gasp. The woman had short straight blonde hair that went just a little bit past her shoulders. She had the most beautiful forest green eyes. She was overall beautiful. She was wearing a white shirt with a black blazer and black pants. The white shirt was tucked under the pants. She was wearing a silver chain necklace and a couple of rings as well as a silver watch. She was wearing black heels.
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Y/N heard someone cough causing her to snap out of it before looking back at the principal who had her eyebrow raised. "I'll see you later Katie" the blonde woman said before walking past Y/N who stiffened. The woman smelled like Jasmine & Citrus with a hint of spice. Y/N shook out of her thoughts as she heard the door behind her shut. "Why don't you come and sit down" the principal said and Y/N walked over before sitting down in one of the chairs.
After the principal showed Y/N around and gave her the schedule, Y/N decided not to eat lunch since there was only a couple minutes left. She decided to head to class which was History with Ms. Theron. She saw that the door was open but decided to knock anyways. "You can come in the door is opened for a reason" a rich voice said causing Y/N's face to flush. Y/N walked in and took a seat in the front. When she looked up her eyes widened in shock. So Ms. Theron was the teacher that was talking to the principal when she entered the principal's office. The only thing different about her was that she was wearing reading glasses as she read a book with her legs up on her desk. She was leaning backwards on her rolling chair.
Y/N looked away as the bell rang realizing she was just staring at her teacher for the past 6 minutes. She looked over at the door to see girls walking in before taking their places. "Alright girls quiet down now" Ms. Theron said after the bell rang again. They all went quiet as they saw Ms. Theron standing up before taking her glasses off. "I hope you guys all answered the question on the board" Ms. Theron said causing Y/N's eyes to widen in shock before looking up at the board. When was Russia's "Red October" Revolution? Was the question that was on the board. Y/N smiled since she knew the answer. "New girl how about you answer the question" Ms. Theron said causing Y/N to look up. "Oh uh sure it was 1917 on November 7th" Y/N said causing everyone to look at her in surprise. Ms. Theron's lips twitched up into a slight smile as she leaned against her desk while folding her arms. "Alright everyone get your notebooks out" Ms. Theron said and everyone got their notebooks out.
Y/N walked up to Ms. Theron's desk and placed the piece of paper on her desk. Ms. Theron looked up with a raised eyebrow. "Done already" she said and Y/N nodded. Ms. Theron stood up before grabbing a pen. She skimmed over the paper before putting an B+ at the top. She handed the paper back to Y/N who grabbed it. Their hands brushed and Y/N's face heated up as Ms. Theron pulled back. "You're free to do whatever you want for the remainder of class" Ms. Theron said as she sat back down in her chair not looking at Y/N. Y/N frowned before going back to her desk and sitting down. She looked up to see Ms. Theron looking at her with a neutral face. She looked down as she took out her tablet and unlocked it. Y/N started to type away as she got lost in the words of the story she was writing. Someone tapped on Y/N's shoulder causing her to jump. Y/N looked up to see a black haired girl standing next to her. "What are you writing" the girl said and Y/N just looked up at her. "Uh nothing" Y/N said before closing her tablet. She didn't want anyone knowing she was gay because if they did they'd probably beat her up.
Ms. Theron looked up when she heard talking and saw a girl talking to Y/N who was fiddling with her fingers. "Quinn stop talking and go sit down at your desk" Ms. Theron said causing Y/N to look up. Quinn scoffed before turning towards Ms. Theron. "I was just asking what Y/N was writing" Quinn said causing Ms. Theron to raise an eyebrow before putting her feet down on the ground. "Quinn I'm not going to ask again, sit your ass down and be quiet" Ms. Theron almost shouted out causing everyone to stop what they were doing. Quinn went back to her seat and sat down before looking away from everyone. Ms. Theron watched as Y/N sighed making her slightly confused. What was on that tablet Y/N didn't want anyone to see, she thought as she folded her arms and leaned back on the chair. Y/N was a curious girl Ms. Theron had thought when she looked over Y/N's profile. Y/N had moved 30 times all over the world for an unknown reason. She was a top student in all of the schools she went to. Ms. Theron saw that Y/N was skilled at the Violin, Flute, Piano and Cello causing her to smile a bit. Even though she wanted to ask Y/N to play something for her she would never. Ms. Theron always loved to hear people play music. She would sometimes stand outside of the music room at the school and hear the kids play. When the bell rang it snapped both Y/N and Ms. Theron out of their thoughts. "Alright class hand in your work sheets and I'll see you tomorrow" she said causing everyone to stand up. Y/N packed up her things and headed out towards her next class which was Math.
When Y/N got home she opened the door to an oddly quiet one. She walked into the kitchen to see her mom sitting at the counter with a glass of wine in her hands. "Momma where's Papi at" Y/N said causing her mother to look up before looking away. "He left and he's not coming back" her mother said making Y/N confused. "Why what happened" Y/N said causing her mother to roll her eyes. "He just upped and left" her mother said not looking at Y/N at all.
It had been two months since her father left and she's been doing badly in school. All the teachers were worried even some of the students were. She started wearing more sweatpants and sweatshirts even if it was hot out. Ms. Theron was even worried since one time she saw a bruise on Y/N's neck. Y/N was walking down the hall when she was pulled into an empty classroom. She was about to scream when a hand covered her mouth. She looked up in the dark classroom and recognized those forest green eyes. She relaxed before Ms. Theron turned the light on. Before Y/N could do anything Ms. Theron pulled her sweatshirt down and saw a couple bruises scattered along Y/N's neck up to her face. Ms. Theron pulled down Y/N's hood and gasped. Y/N tried shoving the woman in front of her back but Ms. Theron was stronger.
"Who the hell has been doing this to you Y/N" Ms. Theron growled out as she removed her hand from Y/N's mouth. "Was it your father" Y/N shook her head as she felt tears brimming her eyes. "Mother" Ms. Theron questioned and Y/N shook her head again. "Then who was it Y/N" Ms. Theron said causing Y/N to look away. After a couple seconds Ms. Theron huffed before grabbing Y/N's arms causing her to wince. Y/N started tearing up as she struggled against Ms. Theron's grip. "It's none of your business so please let go, your hurting me" Y/N said and Ms. Theron loosened her grip but didn't let go. "Please Y/N tell me what's going on I'm worried about you" Ms. Theron said, and Y/N started crying. Her expression changed to sadness as she pulled Y/N into a hug. "I'm sorry I've been joining fight clubs since my father just left without saying goodbye" Y/N said before breaking down. Ms. Theron held onto Y/N as she cried while hugging the taller woman.
"I know this is a tough time right now but we got to get your grades up or you won't graduate" Ms. Theron said as she pulled away from the shorter girl. "There's a big test on Friday which is in three days so I'd like for you to come over to my house so we can study alright" Ms. Theron said and Y/N nodded before wiping her tears away. "Wait for me outside alright" Ms. Theron said and Y/N nodded again before leaving the classroom when everyone was in their classes. Y/N waited outside for a couple minutes until she heard footsteps behind her. She looked over to see Ms. Theron walking towards her. "Come on then" Ms. Theron said before walking towards a car which Y/N followed. They stopped at a dark red dodge charger and Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "This is yours " Y/N said and Ms. Theron laughed before nodding.
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Y/N got in the passenger side and put her seatbelt on before Ms. Theron pulled out of the parking lot. "Why are you doing this Ms. Theron you could just forget about it and let me fail" Y/N said causing Ms. Theron to glance at her before looking back at the road. "First when we're out of school please call me Charlize and secondly I found you quite interesting" Ms. Theron said causing a faint blush to cross Y/N's cheeks as she looked out the window. Charlize smiled a little as she stopped at a red light. She sighed before looking at Y/N who was still looking out the window. "So I saw on your profile that you can play a couple instruments" Charlize said causing Y/N to look at her. Y/N went on for awhile on how she loved music and that she would play her instruments whenever she had the time to. Charlize listened to the girl that was sitting in her passenger seat as she smiled. "Maybe I could play one of them for you sometime I mean if you want me to" Y/N said causing Charlize to look at her. "I wouldn't mind darling but only if you're comfortable with doing it" Charlize said causing Y/N to blush at the nickname.
Charlize drove through a beautiful neighborhood causing Y/N's eyes to light up. "You live in this neighborhood it's beautiful" Y/N breathed out and Charlize smiled before pulling up in a driveway. Y/N's mouth dropped as Charlize parked in front of a beautiful house. "You live here" Y/N said excitedly causing Charlize to laugh before nodding her head. "Yes I do" Charlize said as she got out of her car. Y/N got out as well after grabbing her backpack.
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Charlize led Y/N towards the front door before unlocking it. She opened the door and waited until Y/N walked in before she did. "Wow it's even more beautiful in here" Y/N breathed out as she looked around. Charlize smiled softly as she shut the door behind her.
Even after the test which Y/N aced Y/N would still go over to Charlize's house every night. The two of them have gotten closer over the past couple of days and they had a lot of fun. "Char I found something" Y/N said as she walked back into the living room to see Charlize sitting on the bench that was connected to the window. Charlize looked over as she drank some of her late night coffee. She looked in Y/N's hands to see a book in her hands. Charlize held her hand out and Y/N walked over handing over the book. "Oh I haven't read this book in ages" Charlize said as she looked at the book cover which read A Good Girl's Guide To Murder. "It looks interesting" Y/N said causing Charlize to smile. "It is, one of my favorites when I was a teen" Charlize said as Y/N sat down on the ground before watching Charlize skim through the book. "Char" Y/N said causing Charlize to look up. "Yes my dear" Charlize said causing Y/N to blush. "Can you read it" Y/N asked nervously as she fiddled with her fingers. "To you" Charlize asked and Y/N nodded shyly causing Charlize to smile. "Of course I can" Charlize said with a smile.
As Charlize was reading Y/N got lost in Charlize voice. God was she falling even more for her teacher. She knew it would probably never work out since she thought Charlize didn't feel the same way. Y/N was snapped out of her thoughts when she felt a hand grab hers. She looked up from the floor to see Charlize looking at her with a raised eyebrow. "You weren't listening where you" Charlize said and Y/N shook her head no. Charlize sighed before putting the book down. She put her feet on the ground before pulling Y/N to stand up. "Tell me darling what's on your mind" Charlize asked causing Y/N to look away. She couldn't tell Charlize how she felt. "Y/N" Charlize said turning Y/N's head so she was looking directly at her. "I- I can't tell you" Y/N stuttered out causing the older woman to frown. She grabbed Y/N'd other hand before gripping them. "Come on you can tell me anything" Charlize said worried lacing her words.
Y/N sighed before giving in "I like you" Y/N whispered out. "Speak up My dear" Charlize said and Y/N huffed. "I like you god damnit I've liked you since I saw you in the principal's office 5 months ago" Y/N said making Charlize smile. "That's more like it" she said making Y/N confused. Before Y/N could say anything she was pulled into Charlize arms and she felt soft lips on hers. Y/N eyes widened in shock but closed them after a couple seconds and kissed back.
After they pulled away from air Y/N looked at Charlize with surprise. "I've liked you ever since that day to Pretty Girl" Charlize said causing Y/N's face to heat up. Charlize chuckled before kissing Y/N's cheek. "Now how about we actually get started on what you came here for" Charlize said making Y/N pout. "But this is more fun and plus all my grades are back up" Y/N whined out causing Charlize to smirk. "Top students still need to study my dear" Charlize said making Y/N huff before giving in again. "Fine but on one condition we cuddle the whole time" Y/N said making Charlize laugh. "Fine with me Pretty Girl" she said causing Y/N to smile like a child. They cuddled close to each other as they began going over History together.
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critrolesideblog · 1 year ago
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Caleb closes his eyes tightly and presses his thumb and forefinger against them in an attempt to allieviate the headache settling in behind them. It is 2:53 in the morning, and the dimly-lit runes and diagrams on the desk in front of him are beginning to blur together.
"Mrrrow."
His eyes fly open again to find the dainty, round face of his cat, Minka, mere inches from his own. "Oh, hallo," he chuckles, and she squawks at him reprovingly before leaning forward and brushing her cheek against his beard. He scratches under her chin and runs his hand along the length of her back. Her fur is comprised of splotches, daubs, and streaks of dark black, bright orange, light brown, and snow white that make her look as if she rolled around in Jester's paints. Her olive green eyes gaze at his a moment before--
"Mrrrp." She hops lightly down off the desk and trots across the study, her little paws picking their way delicately around the runes etched into the floor. The walls of the room are primarily occupied with a patchwork of shelves housing his physical collection of books, save for one wall that sports his desk, Essek's desk, a cabinet of spell components. A slate board on wheels is pushed to one side of the room, obscuring his battered collection of arcane primers, the worse for wear for their many stints in the hands of Wildemount Wildlings. Minka pauses in the doorway and looks back at him. "MrrOW," she demands, loudly.
"Hm? Was ist es?"
She meows again, even more loudly, taking a small step further into the hallway then turning around to see if he plans to follow.
Caleb glances back over the papers and books strewn across the desk and, feeling the ache throb behind his eyes, supposes a little break couldn't hurt. He rises from the chair, stretching a little this way and that, and shuffles across the study floor. "Okay, was willst du?"
Minka chirps as she rounds the corner and leads him the short distance down the hallway to the bedroom. The room itself is rather plain, as it mostly serves as a convenient place to set up the Tower, but it does contain a bed in a simply-carved oak frame, a matching chest of drawers, and an empty, pine wardrobe. The bed is topped with two pillows and a knitted blanket of variegated oranges and purples. He only sleeps here on the nights that he has exhausted his reserves with classes and experiments, but Minka counts it as a treat each time. She walked into his home one evening, inviting herself in as he arrived home from class, and saw fit to stay. But despite many intervening months and much coaxing, she still regards the Tower and the fae cats that live there with ample suspicion.
She hops up onto the bed and noses at the top edge of the blanket before meowing demandingly.
"Ja, ja, ich komme," he yawns as he shuffles across the bedroom. He lifts up the blanket for her, but she only meows again. He supposes he could rest his eyes for just a moment and slides under the covers, settling on his side. Minka follows suit, turning around and around under the blanket before lying down and placing her chin daintily on the pillow next to him, closing her eyes with a look of satisfaction. He reaches up to stroke the rabbit-soft fur behind her ears, which elicits an almost-silent squeak of a meow, and thinks, I will only rest my eyes for a moment, as he drifts off to the deep rumble of her purr.
————
A little ficlet inspired by own bossy girl who insisted on a little lie down this afternoon
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drades-lair · 11 months ago
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12 Days of Kinkmas: Day 11 - Reindeer Role Play
Fandom: HelluvaBoss
Rating: M
Pairing(s): Fizzarozzie
Asmodeus released an exasperated sigh as he combed through stack after stack of paperwork that sat atop his giant oak desk. Hellmas eve was a time for partying in Lust except that is for the king himself emphasizing the term ‘no rest for the wicked’ much to his dismay. Turning momentarily to search for something in the filing cabinet next to his desk Asmodeus missed the door to the office being opened that is until he heard the sing song tone of his Fizzy.
“Oh Ozzie~” The imp sang walking slightly into the office to lean against the doorframe.
“That you Fizzy frog? What can I do for…?” Asmodeus trailed off as he turned to see Fizzarolli leaning against the doorframe clad in a sexy reindeer outfit. The outfit had a brown skirt with white fluff along the hem, a halter style top in the same shade of brown with a peek-a-boo window sapped like a heart, long brown gloves that had little hoof tips on the fingers as well as white fluff around the rims, a pair of brown individual stockings that connected to garters with more white fluff around their tops, a fake set of antlers that sat in front of his horn stumps, a fake red nose that glowed and a bell on a collar.
“Do you like it?” Fizz asked with a wide smirk on his face.
“Like it? I love it! You look incredible babe,” Asmodeus complimented standing from his desk to walk towards Fizz.
“Then what do you say we go celebrate Hellmas?” Fizz suggested, pushing off the doorframe to wiggle his ass at Asmodeus.
“You know what…fuck the paperwork, I’d rather celebrate with you any day,” Asmodeus stated, scooping Fizzarolli into his arms.
The duo headed for the master bedroom where Asmodeus placed Fizz on the bed, caressing his hands along Fizz’s body as they shared a deep kiss. Fizz purred slightly as Ozzie started kissing along his jawline, hands playing absently with the garters holding up his stockings. Pulling back to admire Fizz’s outfit a little more Asmodeus started pushing the skirt up revealing Fizz was completely commando underneath making him chuckle.
“Come on big daddy, I want you to breed me like the big, strong stag that you are,” Fizz teased, spreading his legs a little.
“Ha-ha, very well my little Fizzy fawn,” Asmodeus chuckled, pushing Fizz’s skirt up further.
Asmodeus leaned down to run his tongue along Fizz’s folds all the way up the underside of his cock, swirling it around the head making Fizz moan. Holding Fizz’s hips Asmodeus took the imp’s cock into his mouth, wrapping his tongue down the shaft as he started sucking liberally with a series of head bobs. Fizz gave a loud gasp as Asmodeus slid two fingers into his wet cunt, thrusting in a counter rhythm to his mouth on Fizz’s cock although he could tell the imp was tighter then normal causing him to pull off, glancing down as something caught his eye. Gingerly Ozzie flipped Fizz onto all fours, pushing his skirt up over his ass revealing a deer tail butt plug firmly situated in the imp’s ass.
“Hmm, you went all out I see,” Ozzie cooed, toying with the tail.
“Mm, Yeah, I wanted the whole…package…ugh…” Fizz explained with a deep moan as Asmodeus tugged lightly on the plug.
“Then I’ve got just the thing to complete this ‘package’,” Asmodeus stated, heading to the far side of the bedroom where he dug through their chest of gags before returning.
Fizzarolli opened his mouth immediately to allow Ozzie to place the gag in his mouth, wrapping it around his head it was just like the harness you’d see reindeer or hell steeds’ wear. Satisfied Asmodeus returned to his position behind Fizzarolli, sliding his fingers over the tail plug down to Fizz’s folds where he pressed them into him once more. Asmodeus rubbed against Fizz’s G-spot with every thrust of his fingers making the imp whimper past the gag in his mouth, juices drooling from both his cunt as well as his cock while his hands fisted in the sheets. Pulling his fingers free Asmodeus licked the delectable juices from them then bent down to replace them with his tongue, wriggling it all along Fizz’s insides as he thrust along his G-spot again until Fizz shrieked, body going ridged as he squirted straight into Ozzie’s mouth. Asmodeus promptly engulfed Fizz’s vagina with his mouth, sucking with his tongue still firmly wiggling around inside the imp causing him to squirm, caught between wanting to escape and wanting more. Fizz was just on the edge of a second orgasm when Asmodeus pulled away, snapping his fingers to discard his clothing allowing him to moments later press the head of his cock to Fizz’s folds. The imp chanted a mantra of yes’s from behind the gag as Asmodeus pressed into him luckily Fizz didn’t have a womb thus a condom wasn’t necessary, and the imp could live out his breeding kink fantasies all he wanted.
Asmodeus set up a quick, deep rhythm making sure to pull almost all the way out before slamming back into Fizz with each thrust causing the imp to pant and grunt. Grabbing the reins that connected to the gag Asmodeus pulled on them forcing Fizz’s head to crane backwards slightly, his pace getting faster as the sin neared his completion. Fizz’s hands clenched in the sheets with a whimpering cry as Asmodeus orgasmed, filling Fizz to bursting with his cum before pulling out.
“You wanted to be bred Fizzy, make sure you keep that cum inside you,” Asmodeus whispered into Fizz’s ear making him moan as he clenched his cunt.
Ozzie pulled on the reins to get Fizz up on his knees then reached around to start stroking the imp’s cock, holding nothing back as he brought fizz to his second orgasm this time cum spewed from his cock and his eyes rolled back in his head. Fizz was a cum covered mess, cum ran down the shaft of his cock while it seeped from his cunt at the same time. Asmodeus maneuvered Fizz onto his back again, removing the gag then he reached down to pull out the plug in Fizz’s ass, rubbing his still hard cock along Fizz’s hole.
“I should fill this hole too just in case,” Asmodeus crooned, slicking Fizz’s hole with the cum currently spilling from his vagina before pressing into him.
“Ah! Fuck! Yes, yes, breed me! Breed your little cum slut,” Fizz demanded.
Asmodeus chuckled as he pressed to the hilt then pulled back out about halfway, slamming back into Fizzarolli who groaned in ecstasy. Ozzie set a brutal pace this time bringing them both to the edge quicker then either expected causing Fizz to shriek in surprise as he came for the third time, cum spilling from his cock as well as squirting juices from his pussy. Asmodeus buried himself deep in the imp as he too spilled cum all along Fizz’s insides promptly filling him to an overflowing capacity as cum now leaked from Fizz’s ass as well as his pussy and cock. Both the sin and the imp sat for a few moments catching their breath, indulging in some warm cuddling and soft kissing until Asmodeus scooped the imp up to carry him into the bathroom. After a relaxing bath the two returned to a spotlessly clean room where they snuggled under the covers with Fizz atop Ozzie’s chest, purring happily.     
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seinterior · 3 months ago
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Top 3 Sets Of Kitchen Interior Designs! – SE Interiors
When designing a kitchen, the style you choose sets the tone for the entire space. Here’s a look at some of the most popular types of kitchen interior designs, each offering a unique aesthetic and functionality. We are one of the leading Kitchen Interior Designer In Navi Mumbai, and today, in this blog, we will shed some light on the top 3 sets of kitchen interior designs.
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1. Modern Kitchen Design
Clean Lines and Minimalism: Modern kitchens are characterized by sleek, clean lines, and a minimalist approach. Cabinets often feature flat fronts with little to no ornamentation, and color schemes tend to be neutral, with whites, grays, and blacks being common.
High-Tech Appliances: Modern kitchens often incorporate the latest in technology, including smart appliances, induction cooktops, and built-in ovens. These kitchens are designed for efficiency and ease of use.
Materials: High-gloss finishes, stainless steel, glass, and engineered quartz are popular material choices, giving the kitchen a polished and contemporary look.
2. Traditional Kitchen Design
Classic Elegance: These kitchens are warm, inviting feel, with a focus on timeless design elements. It usually has features like decorative moldings, raised-panel cabinets, and ornate hardware.
Rich Materials: Wood is a staple in traditional kitchens, with cabinets often made from oak, cherry, or maple. Countertops might be granite or marble, adding to the luxurious feel.
Details: Traditional kitchens often incorporate elements like crown molding, decorative corbels, and glass-front cabinets. The color palette tends to be warm, with shades of cream, brown, and deep reds or greens.
3. Contemporary Kitchen Design
Flexible and Evolving: Contemporary kitchens are similar to modern kitchens but are more fluid and can incorporate elements from other styles. They focus on current trends and innovations while maintaining a clean, uncluttered appearance.
Open Spaces: These kitchens often feature open layouts, with a focus on creating a seamless flow between cooking, dining, and living areas.
Materials and Colors: Contemporary kitchens may use a mix of materials, such as natural stone, wood, and metal. Bold color choices are common, along with the use of contrasting materials.
There are several other types of kitchen designs from which you can choose with the help of Interior Designer In Vashi.
Credit:- https://seinterior01.blogspot.com/2024/08/top-3-sets-of-kitchen-interior-designs-se-interiors.html
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elysh-k-letters · 7 months ago
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Snippet from Joan (Chapter 17)
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“Kath, I’m home!” Joan called, the apartment door closing with a thud I could hear from the other room.
Quickly followed by the sound of her key-chain, overfilled with countless keys and colourful charms, jingling as she hung on the hook in the entryway. I closed the case over the typewriter my parents bought me as a graduation present. After the ceremony in the stuffy school hall they took me to pick it out. They followed me into the dilapidated theatre in our hometown transformed into a bazaar of eclectic items where I found it. Leaving my desk covered in scattered paper held down by mismatched paperweights, ceramic mug holding long-forgotten coffee and the lamp still switched. Through the open door of my bedroom, I greeted her with a smile as she unzipped her boots. Long brown leather, she placed them next to my own lined in a row before the door. “Hey, how was it?” I asked, leaning against the door-frame. Joan shrugged off her tan coat, hanging it next to my leather jacket on the rack between the front door and where I stood. She made an unimpressed sound. “The lecturer is a bit of a bore. But I do love Raphaelites,” she responded. Still standing in the entryway, her hip was cocked as she threw her hands around animatedly. “Which theatre was it?” I rested the side of my head to the door-frame. As always, trying to map out her life in my mind. “Just behind the library,” Joan supplied because she knew exactly what I was doing. She struggled to remove her fingers from her grey gloves, opal ring catching in the wool. “Oh, the ceiling is very pretty in that one.” I said when I pieced it together. Joan smiled at my comment. Finally finished shedding her winter clothes, she brushed her hand over my shoulder as she made her way into our tiny kitchen. All oak cabinets with a large ceramic sink in the corner. A house plant wilted slightly on the corner of the bench propped up by a stack of old books. “Only, you would find a ceiling more interesting than the coursework Kath.” The smile was evident in her voice even with her face obscured by the cupboard she was rustling through. A matching pair of comically large mugs she unearthed from within, we had found them in an nearby op-shop. She set them down on the counter before reaching for the kettle. I finally my spot, following her I grabbed the box of teabags we kept on the third shelf of the pantry. “It’s not my fault that my professor is in love with Austen,” I defended, “if I have to sit through one more lecture on her, I’ll… I’ll probably just fall asleep.” I rolled my eyes at the thought, my back to Joan. She had fallen silent. Something familiar twisted in my gut. I whipped back around, the pantry cupboard closing sharply. “Joan?” She was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking back at me with that smile I had only see a handful a time. A smile born in that old bed…in the final year of her life. Something cold seeped into my cotton socks. Flinching, I lowered my head. Muddy creek water dripped on the floorboards…
Once again, behind in my writing goals. I've done something dramatic to my knee so my soccer "career" is on pause for now--hopefully that means I can make some progress. This is from my project Joan. Once I have finally finished this third draft I will be seeking beta readers/critique partners for if anyone is interested in helping out! Thanks.
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Kitchens With Espresso Cabinets
Choosing a color for your cabinets is a major decision. Often times, dark brown is the best choice, since it goes with many decorating styles. This color allows you maximum design flexibility. However, if you’d rather have a traditional look, you might want to consider a lighter shade.
Modern all white kitchen
This kitchen features a mix of espresso stained flat front cabinets, a white quartz countertop, and a white glass mini subway tile backsplash. It also features a glass front cabinet above the espresso maker, a white quartzite kitchen island, and a polished nickel gooseneck faucet. A glass chandelier and tray ceiling set the tone for the two-toned space. The island’s espresso stained wood is accented with glass and brass four-light pendants. Three counter stools sit atop the white quartz countertop.
The espresso color adds a luxurious touch to a kitchen, while the white countertops keep the space looking fresh and bright. White countertops pair well with espresso cabinets, and they also look great combined with beige countertops or quartz countertops. If you want a brighter look for your kitchen, try pairing the cabinets with a light-colored backsplash and stainless steel appliances.
If you want a brighter look for your kitchen, you can add an accent color in the upper cabinets. Contrasting bright teal cabinets with dark wood can make your kitchen stand out, and a round modern light fixture can add a touch of flair. These are just a few of the many options to consider when designing your kitchen.
Espresso cabinets are a great choice if you want a timeless style. Their richness works well with lighter colors, and the beige tones can also help keep the room feeling relaxed and inviting. If you decide to go with a kitchen with espresso cabinets, you can choose from a wide range of accents and accessories to add to their classic beauty.
Traditional color choice
Espresso cabinets are a popular color choice for kitchens. This rich color is both neutral and striking and works well in contemporary and traditional designs. Its neutral tone works well with a range of different materials and textures, including wood floors, granite countertops, and tile surfaces. The color also has a soothing effect, which makes it a good choice for kitchens that are filled with light.
To complement espresso cabinets, light grey or tans are a great choice. These neutral colors will complement the darker color of the cabinets, while creating a monochromatic look. This neutral tone works well with a variety of basic colors, such as white and cream. However, you should avoid colors like black or gray, as they are not a good match for espresso cabinets.
Similarly, the ceiling color should complement the color of the cabinets. For best results, choose light wood such as oak or poplar. Darker woods, like cherry and walnut, will look too harsh and clash with espresso cabinets. If you want a modern look, you can try using shaker-style cabinet hardware.
The color choice for espresso cabinets depends on the style of the kitchen. You can match the cabinets with other elements of the kitchen. For example, espresso cabinets would go well with white cabinets, but if your kitchen is in a contemporary style, it would look great with blue or green accents.
If you’re designing a new kitchen, you should consider the cabinet color. A light color will help reflect light from windows and will help create an open, airy feel. It also creates a focal point in the kitchen and draws the eye outward.
Contemporary style
Contemporary style kitchens are often defined by slab doors and slab surfaces. These are both hallmarks of contemporary design and can be used to highlight the lighting fixtures and accents. One example of a kitchen with this look is the Idea Space kitchen, which features a marble-patterned quartz countertop and backsplash. Its walnut shelves add warmth to the cool-toned design. Another contemporary kitchen with this design theme is the Soda Pop Design kitchen, which features a large quartz waterfall kitchen island and sleek cabinets. Its gray floor and dark wood cabinetry make it appear spacious, and the granite countertop provides a dramatic contrast to the predominantly white room.
Espresso cabinets are a popular choice for contemporary kitchens. These cabinets are often paired with white quartz countertops, creating a transitional look that begins with a wall accented with field stone. The muted tones of the cabinets are complemented by the grey veins that show in the white quartz countertop.
Espresso cabinets also lend a sophisticated impression. The deeper hues of this color lend a touch of formal refinement to any kitchen. Plus, because they are darker, they’re easier to keep clean than lighter colours. Furthermore, these cabinets pair well with the right accessories, decor, and technological appliances. The overall effect is an elegant, luxurious vibe that permeates every aspect of your kitchen.
Espresso kitchen cabinets give a classic look and are durable and easy to maintain. They also provide a perfect balance of depth, making them the perfect compliment to lighter backsplash and flooring.
Durable
If you’re looking for a durable kitchen cabinet that will last for years, espresso cabinets are a great choice. These cabinets can withstand the rigors of daily cooking, and they’ll also help hide minor stains and marks. Even with regular cleaning, these cabinets will still look great.
Espresso cabinets go well with a variety of other color schemes, including white or cream floors and neutral backsplashes. You can also mix and match them with other hues for a unique look. Green or blue tones look especially good with espresso cabinets. Dark floors are also a great complement. Tiled or hardwood floors are perfect for a kitchen that features espresso cabinets. Choosing dark floors can also help your kitchen stand out more than you thought possible.
Espresso cabinets are also affordable and easy to install. They can last 20 to 30 years when properly maintained. They also hide stains and spots better than white cabinets. They are a great way to add style to your kitchen while adding a higher value to your home. If you’re remodeling your kitchen, espresso cabinets are a great choice.
Easy to clean
If you’re looking for a kitchen cabinet that’s easy to clean, espresso cabinets are a great option. They can hide stains and marks from everyday cooking, which makes them an excellent choice for busy families. Keeping them clean will help them keep looking great for years to come. You’ll need to regularly wipe them down and periodically polish them to keep them looking great.
Before cleaning your cabinets, it’s important to wear gloves so that liquids don’t touch your skin. Using baking soda and vegetable oil is an excellent option for cleaning your cabinets without leaving any scuff marks. You should also make sure to clean the cabinet doors so that they look even.
Espresso cabinets add a timeless elegance to your kitchen. You can highlight their appearance with bright lighting, light-hued countertops, and vibrant walls to complete the look. They are also durable, making them an excellent choice for busy families. Whether you’re looking for a kitchen cabinet or an espresso-themed cabinet for your living room, espresso cabinets will bring elegance to your home.
Before you start cleaning your cabinets, you need to remove any shelf lining that’s present. Once you’ve removed the shelf lining, vacuum the cabinets to remove any residue that remains. You can also use a magic eraser, but be sure to test it on a hidden area first to ensure that it won’t damage the finish of your cabinets.
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The kitchen is often the heart of the home, so it makes sense that it would play such an integral role in your house’s overall look and feel. It’s also a space that people spend a significant amount of time in, so it must look its absolute best. That’s why Vancouver Kitchen Renovation is proud to offer Kitchen Design and Renovations in Vancouver, BC. We believe that a well-designed kitchen can transform the way you live, and we’re committed to helping you create the perfect space for yourself and your family. Whether you’re interested in updating your existing kitchen or building a brand new one, we can help you achieve your dream kitchen. We’ll listen carefully to your ideas and preferences, and together we’ll figure out which options will work best for you. Once we’ve determined what you’d like to see in your new kitchen, we’ll put together a detailed proposal outlining everything we propose, including a breakdown of the estimated budget and timeline. If you decide to move forward with our proposal, we’ll begin working immediately to bring your vision to life.
We understand that to be successful is to stay ahead of the curve. That means staying current with the latest technology and design trends. We always want to improve our products or services without breaking the bank. That’s why we stay connected to the latest technologies of NKBA, National Kitchen and Bath Association. In addition, at Vancouver Kitchen renovation, our primary focus is providing sustainable kitchen design and renovation packages, and we believe in sustainable living. Sustainable living is a way of life in harmony with nature. It is a lifestyle which focuses on the preservation of our environment. Sustainable living is a philosophy emphasizing respect for the environment and concern for its well-being. This means we should take care of the planet and treat it as if it were our home. We should try to preserve what we have and protect it from destruction. If we do this, we will enjoy the benefits of the earth’s resources for many generations. Whether you’re planning a major remodel or adding finishing touches to your current kitchen, we’d love to discuss your project. Book your showroom consultation online.
Main Areas of Service in British Columbia:
Vancouver
North Vancouver
West Vancouver
Burnaby
Coquitlam
Squamish
Whistler
Frequently Asked Questions
Do I Need a Kitchen Remodel
Remodeling a kitchen can be costly so make sure to do your research and consider what it will mean for your home. It is important to evaluate the age and condition your current kitchen, as well your family’s and lifestyle needs, as well your budget.
Remodeling your kitchen can make it functional and modern. A remodel can provide additional storage and counter space if you have a growing family. A well-designed and designed kitchen can increase the value of your home.
But a kitchen remodel may not be the best option. If your kitchen is in good condition and you’re happy with its layout, there’s no need to spend the money on a complete renovation. Instead, you can focus on small changes that will increase the space’s appeal without spending a fortune.
How do you know if a renovation of your kitchen is the right choice? These are some questions you should ask yourself:
Is your current kitchen functional? Remodeling your kitchen can help you get the space you need.
Is your kitchen in desperate need of repairs? If your cabinets are falling apart or your appliances are outdated, it may be time for a change. This will likely mean a kitchen remodel.
Do you wish to increase the home’s worth? It doesn’t matter if your goal is to sell soon, a kitchen renovation can be a substantial investment. A well-designed, attractive kitchen can make your house more appealing to potential buyers. It will also increase its resale market value.
How much money do you have available? A kitchen remodel can be expensive, so you must set a realistic budget before you begin. When estimating your project’s total cost, make sure you include the costs of labor and permits.
If you answered yes to any of these questions, a kitchen remodel might be right for you. Talk to a qualified contractor to discuss your plans. Careful planning and execution are key to creating the kitchen of dreams.
How do you style a small white kitchen?
You need to be creative in a small white kitchen. The best way to create a beautiful design for a small white kitchen is to use natural materials such as wood, stone, and glass. Also, remember that white kitchens should be kept clean and organized.
You can also personalize the space with some personal touches. This will make your kitchen feel like a home.
Which kitchen layout is the most efficient?
If there is enough space, an L-shaped layout with an island kitchen is best.
What are the essential characteristics of an ideal home?
A large kitchen should provide ample storage space for all your cooking and cleaning needs. A well-designed, functional kitchen is also easy to access natural light and ventilation.
How to Save Money on Kitchen Remodels
Here are some ways to save money on your kitchen remodel.
Do your research.
You must first do your research before you start any kitchen renovation project. This will give you an idea of what you want from your kitchen remodel. Also, research can help you to identify cost-saving opportunities.
Make a budget.
Once you have a clear idea of what you want to achieve with your kitchen remodel, the next step is to create a budget. This will allow to budget how much money you’ll spend on the project. To avoid overspending, it is essential that you adhere to your budget.
Browse for the best deals and discounts.
Always look out for discounts and deals when shopping for appliances and materials. This will help you save money on your kitchen remodel costs.
Hire a reputable contractor.
A good reputation and a proven track record are essential when looking for a contractor for your kitchen remodel. A reputable contractor can provide you with quality workmanship at a reasonable price.
You can do the work.
If you have the necessary skills, you may be able to do the work yourself. This will save you money on kitchen remodeling costs, and it will give you satisfaction knowing that you did the work yourself.
These tips can help you cut down on the cost of your kitchen remodel.
Statistics
According to Burgin, some hinges have this feature built-in, but it’s an add-on cost for other models of about $5 retail, adding up to $350 to $500 for an entire kitchen, depending on size. (hgtv.com)
“We decided to strip and refinish our kitchen cabinets during a heat wave with 90-plus-degree temperatures and 90 percent humidity in a house with no air conditioning. (familyhandyman.com)
In large firms, the commission charged by the GC ranges from 15 to 25 percent of the total job cost. (thespruce.com)
In the Pacific region (Alaska, California, Washington, and Oregon), according to Remodeling Magazine, that same midrange central kitchen remodel jumps to $72,513, and a major upscale kitchen remodels jumps up $11,823 from the national average to $143,333. (hgtv.com)
Your most significant cost investment for a kitchen remodel will usually be cabinets, typically comprising 25 percent of your budget. (hgtv.com)
External Links
hgtv.com
Choosing Kitchen Appliances | HGTV
HGTV – Creating a Kitchen for Entertaining
familyhandyman.com
Do’s and Don’ts in a First DIY Subway Tile backsplash Installation by Family Handyman
Create an Open, Craftsman-Style Kitchen (DIY)
forbes.com
Amazing Kitchen Remodel Ideas To Refresh Your Home
thespruce.com
Open Floor Plan: History, Pros and Cons
Find out Professionals Estimate Kitchen Remodeling Costs
How To
Here are 8 steps to kitchen remodeling for beginners:
These steps should be followed to start a DFY project with Beginners:
Remodeling your kitchen requires three simple steps. The first step is to decide if you want to completely renovate your kitchen or replace existing fixtures and appliances. Second, choose the type of kitchen that best suits you and your lifestyle. The third option is to hire professionals or do it yourself.
The next step in the process is to decide on what kind of kitchen design you want. Do you want a traditional, open-plan kitchen with cabinets countertops and appliances or a modern one? Perhaps you prefer modern designs that have minimal storage and sleek lines. You might be interested in adding a large island to your kitchen or a breakfast bar. Finally, after choosing a layout, finish, and material, you’ll need to hire a professional contractor to help you complete the installation.
The kitchen is the heart of every home, but many homeowners feel overwhelmed by the sheer number of decisions they must make before beginning their project. There are many easy ways to start.
Deciding whether to renovate or remodel – This is the first step in deciding if you want a complete kitchen renovation or to replace any of the fixtures or appliances. If you are planning to remodel the space or start over, you will need to account for the cost of demolition, new cabinets and countertops, flooring, and lighting.
You Need to Calculate Your Budget. This includes everything, including the cost of labor and materials as well as the budget you have available.
Decide Your Layout. Once you have decided how much money you can afford, you need to decide where your new kitchen should be placed. There are many options for layouts such as open concept, peninsula and galley, U shape, L-shape and corner. Each layout comes with its pros and disadvantages, so make sure you choose the one that is most suitable for your needs.
Select Your Materials. – Now that you’ve decided the layout of your new kitchen, it’s time for you to choose the materials. This covers everything, from countertops and cabinets to flooring and lighting. There are many options available, so it’s essential to research and select the materials that best fit your needs.
Hiring Professionals – Once you have selected your materials, it is time to look for a professional who specializes in kitchen construction. Good contractors will make sure everything runs smoothly, from design to completion. You won’t have to worry about any issues during the project.
Enjoy! – You’ve made it to the final stage of the kitchen remodeling process–enjoyment! If you’re happy with your new kitchen, it won’t be hard to spend hours creating delicious meals. But if you’re still unsure, then take some time to try out your new kitchen. It will give a better idea if your remodel was worth it.
Did you miss our previous article… https://vancouverkitchenrenovation.com/kitchens/victorian-kitchens/
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pixlgrrrl · 2 years ago
Text
Jessica
Jessican i saw you on The street two blocks from yourold apartmant and you looked right at me and you said some thingbut i could not hear what you said. I was a block away and you forgot to talk loudly like always   I miss your mouth and i miss your eyes or cutting things up, for dinner
Missed but not forgotten and write me if you see this hugs and kisses.
Long Beach
I remember us playing board games like yahtzee I kept messing up words to let you win to make you feel special and important and I hope you did. You deserve it and You
deserve every thing,
Whole foods’
I brushed past you, next to the vitamins, at the front! Big and buff You smelled like Oak wood
You
Kind. Caring. Kil;s the spider
Red Ball
You kicked a red ball over to my yard. Caught a glimpse through the fence,
You had pale brown eyes and I never saw a thing like it before. Thought about tearing it down right then. Knock
On my door when you are  ready.
Piedmont
You always cared so much about me. We drove into the city one winter night and sat at the pier, feeding bread to geese. You wanted to see the seals but your parents were waking up soon. I’m sorry for ruining your favorite silk shirt. You told me how much it costs.
Tgirl
GWM lookin to we can smoke some J’s with F or CD baby and kick our feet up an d read a good book .Help me ?
Dump Your Girlfriend
Ok
You
Does the taxes
Files the cabinet
Alphabetical order
And?
Why did we never get an ‘and
Little things
Small spots onyour forehead, little freckles. I Still have room in my bed
FOR ‘Wendy’
FOR ‘Wendy’ we USED TO  DRIVE .. STILL LOOKINGfor>
CD COLLECTION:
You were carrying one of those binders filled with disks. Black plastic
and Velcro . You dropped one. Our eyes crossed and your ran
Back across the fence
Notes on
I have been working towards a feminist theory of light, which bends, maybe, into the palm of my hand, and can fit, absolutely, into small spaces, between fingers, cracks, and openings, of floors, walls, between legs, and thighs, into and against,
                                        the roof of my mouth
And so please, Say it like it happened, really, You were there, I promise: You had to be there, You had to see it, I know, It’s not funny when I tell you about it, Now; But you were there, I saw you, Please, Just tell me, please, just tell me, about how you where there, where I was, where I was, Why I won’t be mad, I promise, to ball up fingers, To reach towards
                                        A feminist theory of light
A theory, Sorry, I got off track, which stretches and spans across, the sink I cleaned it so, Now it shouldn’t be dirty but, The dishwasher, sometimes, can leave streaks on, the cups, because the water is, hard here, I said, it’s undrinkable, I heard; from friends and friends of friends and friends of friends of friends, from confidants, from people who have been told things, things ends-up like, things got turned up over-side down,
                                            about perspective,
it’s in the dishwasher, which is likely dirty baby, simply put, it will leave streaks on cups, because the water is so hard filled-up with calcium, minerals, and other things, invisible, that can harm a woman’s health.
                                           I think about smears.
Lost Car on PCH
My car broke down on the PCH last summer. You towed it. Was a bit surprised to see a female mechanic. I think you picked up on that. I didn’t mean any disrespect. You had long hair, brown curls, a smoker’s cough. We chatted for a bit,and I got too scared to give you my number. Couldn’t tell if you were flirting. I was old then, and I’m older now, clean-cut, silver haired. Let’s meet up. If you want.
Lows
We met at lows urinals. I looked at u cus u Pist loudd. U Were in to it.  I Could all ways tell. Do u want to, all of
me?
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messers-moony · 3 years ago
Text
Hope | R.L
Paring: Remus Lupin X Wife!Potter!Reader
Summary: Life is unfair in numerous ways but it seems like it’s out to get the Potters in every way shape and form.
A part of growing up means maturing. Maturing means realizing that the world is cruel and unfair. People die every day without a reason or a why. Children are born into this world every day with love or hatred. Growing up, parents tell their kids, “Life isn’t fair”. No one had experience unfairness like Y/n Potter and Remus Lupin.
He was right there. So close, only a few feet from her arms yet so far apart in that wretched woman’s arms who held him like he was the grossest thing she’s ever touched. Those enchanting green eyes that glistened with trauma and pain. The brown hair that started to sprout from his scalp, already messy and untidy.
“No! This isn’t fair!” Y/n wailed as Remus held her tight to his chest, “I’m his biological aunt! Please!”
The Minister of Magic was merciless, “And so is Mrs.Dursley.”
“She’s a muggle! Harry is bound to be a wizard!” Y/n cried in contradiction; the feeling to vomit became relentless, “They’ll torture him. Please, you have to let me have him.”
“With your current living situation, it isn’t safe, Mrs.Lupin.”
Remus grimaced at those words, “My current living situation? Are you daft!?”
“With Mr.Lupins…” The Minister pondered, “condition, it isn’t safe for him.”
“Remus wouldn’t hurt him.” Y/n sobbed quietly, “He’s never hurt me!”
“I’m sorry, Mrs.Lupin, but Harry Potter is the safest with Mrs. and Mr. Dursley.”
The gavel was hit upon another circle of wood, adjourning the meeting as a finality. This was it. The fight was over. Harry Potter would grow up in an unloving household that wouldn’t be capable of understanding his magic. This was the epitome of unfairness. Remus’ hands were on her waist, her back to his chest while she sobbed, trying to get him to release her.
Eventually, she collapsed to a heap on the floor. Petunia and Vernon, each holding a baby watching the couple. Harry was wailing loudly, and Petunia couldn’t get him to settle down, making Y/n only cry harder. The young boy had just begun babbling nonsense due to Sirius’ hard effort to get him to say “Padfoot”. But it was that day he said his first word.
“Moo-me!” Harry yelped, and Remus could’ve sworn his heart shattered into a thousand pieces, “Moo-me!”
The brunet boy was trying to reach for Remus, and he squirmed for the adult male, but Petunia had a tight grip. Y/n could barely hear the little boy's words over her own sobs. Her body ached and shook with every tear that fell. The silver streams stained her cheeks, and her face was a brilliant rose red.
“Please make it stop….” Y/n muttered as Remus covered her from the other four people in the room, “If he says that one more time, I might not be able to handle it. Remus, help me, please.”
Hearing her so desperate broke his heart more. Remus’ body covered hers entirely in their crouched position. Harry was practically attacking Petunia to let him go, to be in the arms that are familiar to him. He didn’t like this. He didn’t know these people. These people weren’t his parents. Where was daddy? Where was mummy? Where was uncle Sirius and Peter?
What he did know was his aunt and uncle were right in front of him. Uncle Moony and Aunt Y/n. He could feel his aunt's sadness, her frustration, her anger. He could sense his uncle's remorse, desperation, and hopelessness. Why were they feeling this way? Why weren’t they protecting him? Harry so desperately wished he could speak and say, “Help! Save me from these strangers!” But all he could get out was “Moo-mee and Tee” for Moony and Auntie.
Petunia couldn’t handle his squirming any longer and allowed him on the floor. Harry was ecstatic with this new change. The boy crawled to the two adults on the floor. Harry could feel the warmth of their bodies before he tugged at his aunt's sleeve. Harry stared into her e/c irises and his uncle's green eyes. Those eyes he’d remember forever, engraved in his memory to never forget. His aunt collected him into her arms. His head pressed to her chest. Harry’s sobs calmed, now in the arms of familiarity.
The scent of chocolate, ink, and books surrounded him. His nose was barely catching the smell due to it being runny from crying. Petunia and Vernon approached them. Remus was hugging his wife and his best friend's son, protecting them from the outside world. Gently Y/n pulled Harry from her chest, leaving him to stare at his aunt and uncle.
Y/n sniffled and wiped his tears from his cheeks like mum used to do, “Harry, I promise you, I really don’t want to do this.”
His head tilted in confusion as Y/n’s eyes filled with tears again, “I’ll come back for you. Don’t doubt that for a second.”
“If he’s anything like Prongs, he’ll always have hope.” Remus commented, making Y/n smile.
“That’s what daddy used to do to mummy when she was sad,” Harry thought, “he used to say something to make her smile.”
Despite the soft smile on her face, she had wet trails on her cheeks, “I love you, Harry.”
Y/n kissed his forehead where the lightning scar was placed—hugging him one more time and Remus doing the same as his wife. Harry didn’t understand. Where was he going? Why was auntie Y/n letting him go? Why weren’t they taking him home? Where was mummy and daddy?! So he began to wail again. Petunia picked him up, and the family of four now started to walk out of the room.
She couldn’t even cry anymore. The water that once flowed down her cheeks had stopped. The dam had broken but no longer had water to give. Y/n turned to put her face harshly in Remus’ chest. His arms raked through her hair and rubbed her back. Silent tears rolled down his flushed cheeks, reaching his jawline and falling into Y/n’s hair.
“That was-“ Y/n hiccuped, “the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“I know, darling.” Remus whispered, “He’s got James’ spirit, and that means he won’t lose hope. He’s got Lily’s kindness. Harry will be fine.”
Y/n shook her head, “That’s not the point. He should be with me. Not that horrid woman.”
“I know. But you and I will get through this.” Remus assured, tilting her head to face him, “We’ve gotten through everything else. We can get through this too.”
Solemnly, Y/n nodded. Remus placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. The room was precise and silent, aside from Y/n’s hiccups. The clicking of a clock could be heard echoing throughout the room. Usually, the sound would bring a sense of solace to Remus but right now, it was a constant reminder that time had gone by. James and Lily were no longer with him. Sirius had betrayed them all, and Peter was dead. Godric, how could this all happen?
Remus flicked his wand from his pocket, apparating them back to their residence. Inside it was cozy and warm. Remus took off Y/n’s coat along with his own as she took a seat on the leather couch. She grabbed her wand, muttering an “Incendio” to start a fire in the fireplace. Her body was curled up, and Remus placed a blanket over her while he went to the kitchen.
The kitchen was a pale blue with dark oak flooring. The marble countertops and dark cabinets. A brilliant contrast. He could almost hear James’ laugh from when they were painting it together while also hearing Lily and Y/n’s scolding them for making a big mess. It brought an emptiness to his heart, but he filled the kettle with water, allowing it to boil on the water.
Inside the cabinets laid an assortment of tea. Something James and Lily had bought him as a joke. Remus always made tea no matter the occasion. It was so him. James had seen it at a muggle store Lily had brought him for. He had been dying of laughter in the store just thinking about it. It got laughs around the Christmas tree when Remus unwrapped the decorative paper.
Remus grabbed a tea bag for himself while grabbing cocoa powder from the same cabinet and two mugs from their wedding night. The kettle began making a high pitch noise, and Remus poured the water into both mugs. Placing the tea bag in one cup and a couple of scoops of cocoa powder in the other, mixing them both, adding marshmallows to the hot chocolate and whipped cream. He added honey to his tea.
Mugs in hand, Remus walked to the living room. He placed the cups on the coffee table. Coaxing Y/n to sit up and he set the mug in her hand as she sipped it carefully, not to burn her mouth. Y/n leaned her head on Remus’ shoulder, still holding her mug with both hands. The blanket draped across their laps. Remus had the cup in his right hand, his left arm draped around her shoulders, the pad of his thumb rubbing her shoulder.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Rem.”
The holidays were hard. Almost too hard for Y/n and Remus to celebrate. But despite their pain, they decorated their house with garland, lights, and knickknacks. The Christmas tree sat in the right of their living room, covered in the beautiful colorful lights. Placed upon the tree were ornaments and tiny pieces of tinsel. Beneath the tree held presents for each other and a little boy.
Y/n stood in front of the tree, staring at it with a longing look. Remus walked behind her, putting his arms around her neck gently. Y/n’s hands instinctively reached for his bicep, rubbing it gently. Remus kissed her cheek and placed his head on top of hers.
“I wanna visit him.”
“Okay.”
Y/n turned to face him, “Okay?”
“What am I gonna tell you?” Remus joked, “No?”
“No. I just- I didn’t expect you to agree so fast.” Y/n replied, and Remus cupped her cheek, “He’s your nephew too. You have a right to see him.”
She smiled, “Yeah, you’re right.”
He kissed her forehead, “First Christmas without them….”
“I know.” Y/n said sadly, “It feels strange not to have James jumping around like a child.”
“It feels not having Lily in the kitchen trying to make your mums mince pies.”
Y/n chuckled, “She never got to master them.”
“Don’t worry, dear, I’m sure she’s up there trying.” Remus replied, smiling, “You think Peter is trying to steal the batter?” Y/n asked.
“Oh, definitely!” Remus exclaimed, smiling more than he had in months, “That bugger always used to Nick my chocolate at Hogwarts.”
“I dunno how he found my stash every time.”
The couple placed their foreheads on each other���s, closing their eyes, “We miss you, James and Lily.”
“We miss you more than ever.”
Y/n sighed, “I love you guys.”
Christmas morning was dull compared to their regular routine. Y/n was used to having James jump on top of her every Christmas so they can wake up their parents and open presents. Instead, she was woken up with kisses being placed on her neck and shoulder. Y/n turned and was faced with the sleepy face of her husband.
His sandy hair ruffled and on top of the white pillow. Green eyes glazed with a film of sleep. His lips pulled up in an effortless gentle smile. The scars on his face were whiter instead of their usual pale pink. His stubble was growing into full facial hair due to his lack of shaving. Y/n let her hand cup his right cheek, her thumb rubbing his cheekbone.
“You need to shave.”
Remus chuckled, “It’s Christmas, and that’s the first thing you say to me?”
“Merry Christmas, you need to shave?” Y/n corrected with a smile, making him laugh, “Merry Christmas, darling.”
They shared a soft and gentle kiss. His lips taking her bottom one, hers taking his top one. Soft and slow. Gentle and sweet. Pulling apart, their eyes fluttered, focusing on one another. Her eyes were so beautiful. Looking into her eyes, Remus could read an endless amount of stories. The gorgeous e/c. His eyes were evergreen. Holding so much love and adoration. She could read him like a book through his eyes.
Christmas meant eating a good meal and sharing kisses beneath the mistletoe. The couple opened each other’s presents. Y/n earning new books and some of Remus’ old sweaters that she thought he threw away. The last item she received was a maroon and gold jersey. It was her brother's Quidditch Captain jersey from when he played. Remus must’ve found it in the wreckage at Godric’s Hallow.
Remus opened his presents, getting ink, quills, notebooks, and books of his own. Since Remus couldn’t work, he always dreamed of writing a book. At Hogwarts, Remus excelled in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he wanted to write a nonbias textbook for it. Y/n always encouraged his dreams and goals. If anyone could do it, it was him.
Left under the tree were three wrapped boxes meant for the little boy. Remus grabbed a tote bag and placed them inside of it. Y/n gripped his hand tightly as they apparated to Privet Drive. They began walking down the street, sweaters on in the snow, while she grabbed his hand tighter.
“What if- What if he doesn’t recognize me?”
“Y/n, he couldn’t forget you.” Remus assured as they stood outside house four.
Gently Y/n knocked on the door. It was oak wood, and the house appeared to be at least two stories. Remus kept his hand intertwined with hers as his other held the bag with the boy's presents. Footsteps could be heard walking towards the door. Petunia had opened it to be faced with two young adults.
“Mrs. Dursley.” Remus greeted curtly, “May we see Harry?”
Petunia began to ponder and saw the bag of presents in the man's hand, “Sure.”
The woman walked into the hallway and unlocked the cupboard under the stairs. Harry was coaxed out of the storage space, and he turned to the left, where he saw his uncle and aunt. The boy's lips curved into a great big smile. Harry ran into the arms of his aunt, hugging her tightly.
“Auntie!”
Her heart melted, “Hey, mini Prongs.”
Harry turned the male beside her, “Moony!”
Remus wrapped his arms around the little boy and picked him up as they walked inside. The three of them sat in the foyer on the floor. Harry sat between Y/n’s legs, his back to her stomach as Remus sat in front of him. Gently Remus disposed of the bag and placed the presents in front of him.
“Go on, Harry. These are for you from Moony and Auntie.” Remus cooed, and Harry grabbed one, gently ripping the wrapping off.
Inside was a baby stag stuffed animal, which Harry hugged close to his chest, “Your dad's favorite animal was a stag. Thought you might want something to remember him by.” Remus stated, smiling sheepishly.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, daddy.” Y/n replied as Harry smiled up at her.
“Go on. There’s two more for you, baby.” Y/n pointed at the other two boxes, and Harry began unwrapping another.
This was a tinier box, and inside were golden glasses, “You don’t need these just yet, but these were your fathers. I wanted them to be yours.” Y/n informed him as he placed them on top of his nose.
The final box was mini-figures that Harry could play with in his spare time, which he seemed more than grateful for. Harry was giggling and laughing, happy with all his presents. The boy turned in Y/n’s lap, hugging her as tight as he could. Y/n’s hand rested on his back, and she gently kissed his forehead.
“I love you, Harry. Don’t forget that.”
“‘Ove you too.” Harry replied, having a hard time pronouncing words.
Next, he hugged Remus, who did the same. He didn’t want to leave Remus’ arms. He always ran hotter than the everyday person. Remus was a personal furnace. It makes sense why a cold young boy didn’t want to let go of the man. Within minutes the young boy was asleep in Remus’ arms.
Petunia came into the hallway an hour later to see Harry soundly asleep in the man's arms, “Excuse me, but I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“Yes, of course.” Y/n took Harry from Remus’ arms and gave him to Petunia, “Thank you for letting us see him.”
Petunia took the boy from Y/n’s arms, “Yes.”
She put the boy in his bed under the cupboard, making Y/n frown at his living situation, “Do you- Do you think that Harry could stay with us some weekends?”
“No.”
“Oh, okay.” Y/n muttered, “Thank you again, but we must’ve overstayed our welcome.”
“Of course.”
Y/n took Remus’ hand as they walked out of the house. They walked to a safe spot to apparate back home. They both took off their coats and placed them on the coat rack. Y/n went to turn on a movie on their television set while Remus made hot chocolate and snacks. Both of them curled up onto the sofa and fell asleep.
Over the course of the next nine years, Harry has been visited by his aunt and uncle on many different occasions. Birthdays, Christmas’s, Valentine’s Day, Halloween, and sometimes just randomly, but he always looked forward to seeing them. Every time without fail, Harry would always jump in Y/n’s arms no matter how old he got.
The warmth and feeling of being safe in her arms brought a sense of comfort no one seemed compared to. She felt like daddy. His radiate smile, his incredibly warm body, the smoothness of her voice, the glitter in her eyes, her untied hair. Auntie Y/n felt like James. But no matter how hard he tried, she never was dad exactly, but she was auntie. Y/n was his dad's sister, and for now, that’d have to do.
Of course, uncle Moony felt the same. But there were some days he didn’t show up, much to Harry’s displeasure. Harry loved sleeping in Remus’ arms when he was a young toddler. The chocolate, ink, and parchment smell always filled his sensitive nose with such a safe feeling. Harry’s favorite time of year was Christmas when Petunia would make hot cocoa, filling the room with its sweet sense. Although he never got a cup of it himself, the smell brought a sense of comfort. As if uncle Moony was embracing him tightly on all sides.
When Harry reached eleven, owls began delivering envelopes to Privet Drive number Four. But it seems that uncle Vernon refused to let him open any of them. He did whatever he had to, blocking the mail slot in the door, burning the letters, even going as extreme to leave the house. Where inevitably Hagrid - gamekeeper - at Hogwarts came to retrieve him and give him the letter.
He couldn’t believe it. He was a wizard! All this time being belittled by Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley, he finally felt special aside from those times with his other family. Harry had a chance to prove himself to be great. To prove himself that he wasn’t just a bug on the ground to be stepped on. Only one thought crossed his mind though.
“I can’t wait to tell aunt Y/n and uncle Moony.”
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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago
Text
Surprises (Sweet Betrayal Part 2)
Part 1     Part 3     Part 4
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Warnings: swearing, alcoholism, abuse (physical and mental), depression, suicidal thoughts
Word count: 3,587
A dash of madness is what’s needed to get things done. It was the thing that caused Manberg to rise from the ashes of its terrible leadership prior to Schlatt, and it was going to be the thing that fixes the aftermath of the meddling of your ‘brothers’. At least that's what you thought on the matter. 
It was a bit hard to form rational thought when reminders of your brothers were everywhere. The buildings that stood populating the city were built by them. The dents and scratches on the wood of the stage were caused by them. Your bloodstain on the concrete was caused by them. The burn scar that took up half of your face and the now clouded blind eye was caused by them. You couldn’t even look in the mirror without being reminded of them; it was like they followed you everywhere you went. Tormenting you with every step you took. With every breath you took you were breathing in the same putrid air they breathed. The air would be purified once you were done with them. 
The only person you actually trusted nowadays was Schlatt. Oftentimes he would yell at you in a drunken rage, telling you that you were useless and undeserving of love. His words hurt you unbelievably, but he would always apologize in the morning. He had hit you occasionally leaving bruises and a fear of anybody moving too fast, but he had always apologized to you so you brushed it off. He was the first person that had shown you actual love after all. He was still the loving man he was before the presidency. 
He would do the same to your other father Quackity. You both comforted each other after he would do that. He confessed to you one night through tears that you were the only thing tethering him to his marriage with Schlatt. It was something you couldn’t understand; why would he ever want to leave Schlatt when he would apologize to you two every single time? It wasn’t like he could control his alcoholism. It had a grip on him that he couldn’t shake. 
You weren’t there when Quackity had killed Schlatt, as you were roaming the streets of Manberg at the time, but you were there when he ran into you in a panic. 
You were walking past Niki’s deserted bakery with a skip in your step and a smile on your face. The sight of the broken glass and the looted remains of the building took away most of the stress that living in and governing Manberg brought you. The citizens and the cabinet had grown distrustful of you and Schlatt, making it hard for you to get any work done. You had taken up most of the responsibilities of the presidency due to Schlatt falling off the deep end with his alcoholism and truth be told everything was stressing you out. You needed to keep smiling, you’re never fully dressed without one. 
You came to a halt in front of the bakery, your hand reaching up to graze the scarred skin on the right side of your face. The once relaxed smile that gently stretched your lips turned strained. ‘Don’t cry, you’re never fully dressed without a smile!’ A soft voice sang in your mind, his light laughter reminiscent of happier times. He would not be happy with the path you’ve taken. Oh well, you liked who you were now; he just needs to put up with it when you see him again.
Your thoughts were interrupted by something, or rather someone, colliding with you. You were about to fall onto the glass-strewn pavement before someone caught you and pulled you into a tight embrace. You couldn’t see who it was, but their jacket smelled like a mixture of blood and cologne. Their shoulders were bouncing as they sobbed into your shoulder. Papá?
You felt his wings embrace you fully, much like they did during the festival. You awkwardly rubbed his back until he calmed down enough to pull away from you. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, face blotchy, and a swollen lip graced his face. Your dad was probably just drunk again. 
You tried your best to smile at him gently, the smile threatening to falter. “Papá? Is Dad drunk again?”
“We have to get you out of here, mijo.” He tried to grab your hand to pull you with him but you moved it out of the way. You needed to know what was happening. You didn’t like not knowing what was happening.
“Why do you have blood on you, where are you bleeding?” Schlatt’s never made you or Quackity bleed before, so this was new. He was probably drunker than he usually was. 
You watched as his dark brown eyes flicked down to his bloodied hands and clothes before they flicked back up looking more panicked. “It’s not mine. C’mon, we need to get out of here.”
This time, he firmly grabbed your hand and started to pull you towards the borders of Manberg. Towards Pogtopia. You weren’t ready to enact your plans for the brothers yet, so you dug your heels into the ground. That didn’t stop the man, in fact he pulled you close to his body and spread his wings to take off into the cloudy sky. Before he could, you pushed him away. 
“Papá, who’s blood is it?” You already knew, your voice was shaking and the smile had completely faded. Surely, he couldn’t be dead again, right? Quackity’s face told you all you needed to know. Schlatt was dead. 
Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you whispered “what happened?”
“He- it doesn’t matter. Come with me, I’m leaving this place,” he spat out the last word with hatred. “It isn’t too late for you, Pogtopia-”
“Pogtopia? You’re seriously going to that pathetic excuse of a ‘country’?” You barked out a somewhat forced laugh, the smile finding its rightful place on your face. “Are you stupid? Why would you ever leave a nation as prosperous as Manberg?”
“Can’t you see? Look around you, this nation’s crumbling under Schlatt’s rule! How is that ‘prosperous’?”
“Did you hit your head or something? Our nation’s thriving under Schlatt’s leadership!”
“He isn’t even fucking leading! All he’s doing is getting drunk off his ass having you do all the dirty work! He’s using you, (y/n).”
“Shut the fuck up Quackity,” he flinched back slightly at the use of his first name being thrown about, “Dad’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and you, you’re so stupid to just throw him away when he needs us the most.”
He put his hands on your shoulders and gripped them tightly to avoid you ripping yourself out of his grasp. He looked you dead in the eyes with the most sincerity you’ve ever seen from someone. “(Y/n), we tried to help him. We did our best, but he’s too far gone. He isn’t the person we knew; the presidency no, this nation, changes people. If you stay, he’s gonna… You have to come with me to Pogtopia. Your brothers-”
“They aren’t my brothers.”
“-Wilbur, Tommy, and everyone else that used to live in Manberg is on their side. You’ll get killed if you stay.”
You tilted your chin up and looked down at him with cold eyes and your signature smile. “Then so be it. I will see to it that anyone cowardly enough to run when things get the slightest bit tough will be taken care of,” his grip on your shoulders loosened for a moment in shock at your words. That was all the time you needed, you ripped yourself out of his grip and turned to walk away leaving the devastated man in your wake. You stopped and turned your head to look at him through the corner of your good eye, “I suggest you run as far as you can, P- Quackity. It would be a shame if I had to kill you if you stayed a second longer. Get the hell out of my nation, traitor.” With that you turned back around and started walking again. After a few seconds, you finally heard him move. 
“I’ll be back for you, I promise. I-I love you, mijo.” You heard the ruffling of feathers and the batting of wings behind you as he left Manberg. The smile on your face was wobbly and weak as tears started to slip out of your eyes. You took a second to compose yourself before you broke off into a sprint towards the White House, passing a few Rutabagaville members and Badlanders stopping to look at you in confusion. Your dad needed you.
After that, you slowly began to question Schlatt’s words, especially when he was drunk. Now that you paid attention, he never said that he loves you anymore. He only had you do his work, the only things he would talk to you about anymore was about the upcoming war and how useless you were as he berated the paperwork you had no idea how to do. There were no more talks about how you mattered, no more side hugs, hair tousles, or soft headbutts, nothing. Maybe he was using you after all. 
So here you were, standing in front of his office with a shaking hand hovering over the oak doors. The smile on your face was incredibly forced, feeling painful for holding it for so long. Just as you mustered the courage to knock on the ram hybrid’s door, it swung open to reveal the hybrid himself.
Your father was swaying on his feet as he looked at you in surprise, “I thought I gave you the night off. Ender, can’t even get your own schedule right? Why’re you even working for me?” You could smell the alcohol on his breath and it reeked. You shrunk in on yourself slightly eyeing the bottle in his hand. The last time he yelled at you he smashed you in the head with it. You forgave him obviously, but it left you with fear whenever you saw a glass bottle in his hand. It happened only last week shortly after Quackity left. The gashes it left on your face and head were still healing. 
Since Quackity left and he went through yet another death, Schlatt had become more irritable, paranoid, and violent. He started yelling at and hitting you more, crying and begging afterwards for you to forgive him. He promised that he’d never do it again, but he always did. You always forgave him in the end because he was the only one that loved you and the only one that you actually talked to anymore. You craved any type of physical touch from your adoptive dad at this point, you didn’t care if it was violent or not. Any touch was a happy touch.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you Dad, but I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me tomorrow for my birthday.”
“Birthday? BIRTHDAY?” He barked out a drunken laugh, his words slurring together. “You want me, the leader of a nation during a fucking war, to take a second off just because of one day that never should’ve happened?”
You fiddled with your fingers and shuffled your feet, struggling to keep the trace of a smile on your face. You couldn’t lie, that one stung a bit. If you didn’t know any better, you’d compare it to how you were treated at your previous family’s home. You’d never compare Schlatt to those cowards though. He was far better than them. “I’m sorry Dad, but I just thought that I’d celebrate it this year, I’m turning six-.”
“Awe, is it gonna hurt your wittle feewings if I told you that I don’t care? Wake up, (y/n). We’re in the middle of a war. We don’t have time to celebrate anything. You and I are working tomorrow. Now get out of my face before I fire your sorry ass for unprofessionalism and misconduct.”
“Okay, goodnight Dad. Love y-” before you could finish, the door was slammed in your face. You could hear him laughing and mumbling incoherently to himself from behind the thick oak doors. Sighing, you turned around and walked straight into your office. You took out a rope from your desk drawer and stared at it blankly. 
It’d be so easy to off yourself again. If you made the noose properly unlike last time, your neck would snap and you’d be killed immediately instead of slowly suffocating. No one would stop you, no one would care. Schlatt would. He loved you like you were his biological kid. You fantasized that as you were about to jump off your desk that he’d open your door and attempt to apologize before he would realize what was going on and comfort you. He’d hold you like he did before he won the election telling you that your life mattered. You’d give anything for that to happen, but in the deepest darkest corner of your mind you knew that it’d never happen. He’d just drown himself in alcohol not realizing what’s happening in the room down the hall. Hell if anything, Karl would be the one to find your hanging corpse as he had a meeting with you first thing in the morning.
Besides, you had to live to carry out your plan to murder Tommy and Wilbur. You obviously wouldn’t be able to kill Philza or Technoblade because the former is immortal and the latter is, well he’s Technoblade (though you have been talking to Dream more lately. Maybe you could ask for a favor). That didn’t worry you; they’d probably kill you on sight once they’ve heard that their precious boys have been brutally murdered by you. You didn’t care if they killed you afterwards, your mission would be complete. It’d be a devastating blow to the family (if you could even call it that at that point, it’d be just father and son), something that’ll take them a while to recover from. 
You put the rope back into your desk drawer and curled up onto the couch you had in the corner of your office. Wrapping yourself in the blanket you kept in a filing cabinet drawer, you quickly passed out.
The next day felt just like another day. You woke up, put on your suit, and started on some paperwork that you had to complete before the end of the day. You didn’t feel any different, it was just another day of trying to keep this nation afloat during wartime while juggling two jobs at once. Schlatt was right, your birthday was just another day. You felt silly for confronting him about it last night. It was stupid of you to do, all you could hope now was that he’d forgive you.
A knock on the door made you look up and plaster a smile onto your face. “Come in.” Karl’s messy mop of brown hair came into view before he did. Like usual, he had a dopey grin on his face and was wearing that ender awful hoodie. You hated that hoodie, it was unprofessional to wear in such an important government building. It looked like he was wanting to say something, he looked slightly anxious. Looking back down at your work, you quickly reorganized it. “Good morning, Mr. Jacobs. I’m assuming you’d like to walk and talk?”
“How-”
You walked over to him with a smile, “I can read people’s body language pretty well. Now let’s start our meeting. It’s not like we have all day.”
You both walked through the halls of the White House talking about what you usually talked about in meetings; progress reports, the extent of which Pogtopia is expanding, and brainstorming ideas on how to take the rebelling country down. The entire time he was casually throwing around jokes of which you would reply with a ‘stop messing around’ and quickly reel the conversation back in. Eventually, he stopped dead in his tracks in front of a spare room you and Schlatt used for storage. It was relatively empty inside with the exception of a few boxes. 
“Karl, why have you stopped? We still have much more to discuss before our meeting’s over.”
“Open the doors.”
“Wha-”
“Just do it! You’ll like what’s on the other side, I promise.” You eyed his excited smile suspiciously before you sighed, “fine, I guess I’ll entertain you just this one time. Don’t expect me to-” you cut yourself off as you saw what was behind the door. 
Grinning faces stared back at you. Each member of the Badlands and Rutabagaville were in the cramped little room. Well, it was cramped for Bad and Sam with their heights, the rest of them fit just fine. In Bad’s hands was a homemade cake with neat letters printed on the top in your favorite color. It read ‘happy 16th birthday (y/n)!’. 
You were frozen as Karl put a hand on your shoulder and gently nudged you inside the room closing the door behind him. You stayed frozen as they started to sing happy birthday to you, Karl and Sapnap competing to sing the highest note at the end of it. You stayed frozen as they looked at you expectantly waiting for you to blow out the candles. 
“Well? You gonna blow out the candles, gem?” Skeppy gestured with a hand to the cake, the flames’ light being bounced off his ridgid skin in a slight rainbow. 
“I-I don’t- We don’t have time for this, we’re in a war. I’ve got a lot of paperwork to do-”
“Nothing’s gonna happen if we celebrate for an hour,” Sam gently told you, “the paperwork can wait.”
“Yeah, you’re still a kid; you deserve to at least have an hour dedicated to you on your birthday,” Ant told you.
 You stayed there looking at them skeptically, you remembered how they looked at you during the festival. However unlike their looks of fear and disbelief they all wore during the festival, they were looking at you with warmth and empathy. You honestly didn’t know what to do, you haven’t celebrated your birthday since… well since him. By Ender, you missed him. 
“C’mon, imagine the fire is your enemy! Blow em out! Blow em out!” Skeppy chanted, the others joining in with encouraging smiles. Bad looked like he wanted to scold them for trying to pressure you, but he eventually joined in as well placing a giant clawed hand on your shoulder with a gentle smile and a nod towards the cake.
You hesitantly leaned forward and blew the candles out. The plumes of smoke that drifted off from the burnt wicks reminded you of the cigarettes Schlatt would smoke. The men in the room cheered with Ant gently patting your shoulder and Karl, Sapnap, and Skeppy cheering the loudest. Sam was clapping and giving you the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen from the creeper hybrid and Bad put his hand on your head and ruffled your hair. You could feel your forced smile turning genuine as you felt a warm joy bubble in your gut and spread through your body for the first time in years. 
“Good job, muffin! What’d you wish for?”
You craned your neck to look up at the demon in confusion, “I was supposed to wish for something?”
“Yeah! Haven’t you done this before?”
“No, can’t say I have. Am I supposed to wish for something now or am I too late?”
“It’s never too late, muffin. Go ahead, wish for something,” Bad gave you a small smile. You nodded and stared at the cake intensely raking your brain for something to wish for. The only thing that you truly wanted was for Tommy and Wilbur to finally die and for Technoblade and Philza’s lives to be ruined. That was the only way you’d be happy, so you opened your mouth only to have a frantic Skeppy cut you off, “no! If you say it out loud, it won’t come true!”
“Alright, I’ll keep it to myself then.” 
After you ate some cake (it’s been a while since you’ve had the sweet, it was tastier than you remembered), you tried to glance at the clock only to be blocked by Ant, “relax, Schlatt’s out today. You can spend as much time here as you want.”
“He’ll find out, my Dad’s been stressed lately. I-”
“Kid, you work your ass off twenty four seven. You’re almost never out of your office.”
“Language Sapnap! But… he has a point though. You need a break. You shouldn’t have to worry about this kind of stuff, you’re still a kid.”
“Loosen up a bit! I’ll put on some music, what do you usually listen to?” Karl grinned widely at you gesturing to the jukebox in the corner of the room. You saw some records laying around on top of one of the boxes. It looked like there was a full collection of them. 
“I don’t usually listen to music. I don’t really have the time for it, but uh, you can pick out anything as long as it’s not Cat or Mellohi.” You hated those discs with a burning passion. It was like you could still hear the muffled medlies drifting through the walls in your childhood home. 
Once Karl put on a disc, some fast paced harmonized notes sounded from the machine. 
“Let’s fuckin party!” Sapnap shouted.
“Language!”
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murderslugs · 4 years ago
Text
Getting To Know Them || Slasher x Reader Bf/Gf Scenarios Pt 2
Jason Voorhees
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When you woke, you were lying in a dim living room. The windows were boarded with thick, rotting oak planks and the doors were bolted shut. The only light left to illuminate the room was a small lamp on the old, rustic coffee table in front of you. Beneath you was a somewhat scratchy couch, clearly taken off of someone's front line with a paper labeled "free to take" on it, or from some dump. However, you were thankful that it at least wasn't the creaky wooden floor instead. You scratched at the rope around your wrists, loosened from being wriggled around and messed with.
You sat up and allowed your vision to re-adjust, and saw the same man in flannel and ski-mask in an arm-chair on the other side of the coffee table. He didn't seem to notice your awakening, or he at least didn't acknowledge it. He was reading a book with a maroon cover, and you couldn't make out the small copper-shaded title. You studied his movement. He was calm and showed little emotion in his body language, simply reading in peace.
In a split second, you decided to break the peace and silence. "Who are you?" The man put down the book in his lap, but only looked up at you for a moment, silent. You could see him think, then make a few hand gestures. You came to the realization that it was ASL, but you never really learned the language, despite your interest in it. You saw him take a deep breath and get up, grabbing a pen and a notebook off a table to the side. He slid the items onto the coffee table before you and slowly unbound your wrists. You wrote your question out again, "Who are you?" and slid it around for him to see. He read it, and wrote quickly, in slightly messy handwriting, "Jason. any more questions?" and slid the items back.
From here, you two went on for hours, listing out questions on the notebook and answering them for each other. You filled out pages and pages, ranging from basic questions to things like "what was your childhood like?" Certain things like that, he would pause and then write that he didn't want to talk about it. Through the night or day (due to the lack of natural light, it was hard to tell,) this game went on.
Michael Myers
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Though you tried your best and struggled and squirmed, the man who had taken you still had gotten you tied to a chair; where you sat with a belt tying your wrists to the wooden beams, thankfully with a cushion underneath your rear. You shut your eyes for a second and groaned, throwing your head back. You always thought of yourself as strong and independent, a fighter who didn't need help from anyone. Alas, this was one ass you couldn't kick, and you hated yourself for it.
Across the kitchen, the bright lights shined on the tiled floor, and a tea kettle whistled ceaselessly. The sound of running water stopped as the man who had taken you walked from the bathroom and into the kitchen. The man dried his hands on his pants and took the kettle off the burner, shutting the flames off. You observed him take two random mugs from the cabinets above, and place them on the white countertop. He carefully poured the tea into the two cups, and a light herbal smell filled the air. After a moment, you recognized the smell of hibiscus tea. This was a familiar smell, something your aunt made every morning when you spent the night at her house in the summers between school years.
The man walked over and brought the two cups with him. A low, slightly muffled, silky voice came from behind the mask as he slid a mug across the table to you. "Careful, it's scolding." The tall, built man walked across and unbuckled one of your arms from the chair for you to pick up the mug with. "Drink." He said, before taking a seat before you. This is when he slid the mask off, to reveal a face beneath that you never would have expected. Dark brown, shaggy, messy, wavy hair fell over his forehead, and he blew it out of his grey eyes. His face was scarred and his lips were chapped, but it somehow wasn't unappealing or revolting.
"What's your name? Who the fuck are you?" You asked, leaning as far as you could with your restraints still intact. The man pushed his hair back and sighed heavily, sipping the near boiling tea. "Michael. 24. Libra." He said in a monotone voice. You rolled your eyes. "This is an introduction to your victim, not The Dating Game." You told him harshly. "Well, is there something specific you wanna know? It's not like your giving me anything to go off of, sugar cube." 'Michael' replied with the same energy in return. "Fine. I'm (Y/N). What else is there to say?"
Carrie White
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Like the pale girl suggested, Carrie if you remembered correctly, you came back to the public library next Sunday, around noon. You had finished the book you had most recently checked out, so you had to return it anyways. Walking down the pavement, you saw here in a light sundress, walking up the few steps and into the library. You ran to catch up and followed her, careful not to startle the girl. As soon as you got inside, you carried yourself to just behind her, and tapped on her shoulder.
The girl turned around, and a look of confusion appeared on her features. "(Y/N). We met here last week? I suggested you check out Narnia." You reminded her, an eager smile painted on your face. A spark formed in her eyes, and she returned your smile. "Oh! Yes, yes, I remember. I'm sorry, my mind is awfully clouded lately." You assured her that it was alright, and you two went along.
The two of you walked down the aisles of bookshelves, and she looked for something new to try out. Maybe she would check out a cook-book and try a new recipe, or read up on WW1. Although, you DID notice that she avoided the religious aisle. However, you didn't comment on this, out of respect. You two checked out a few books, and on the paved outdoor steps, you stopped her. "Would you like to go for coffee or tea? Even a pastry? There's a little shop down the street, I'll buy. I'd just like to talk a bit.
Carrie obliged happily, and the two of you took your books and walked down to the small cafe. It had a dim, rustic theme, and brought peace to anyone who entered it's walls. There was a faint vanilla sent in the air, welcoming you two. For about an hour, Carrie sat down with you and talked about your life, your week, basic things. It was nice to get to know her. She seemed kind, and gentle. Everything about her was graceful, from the way she sipped her latte to the way she tucked her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. As you two finished up your chats, you grabbed your things and greeted each other farewell, agreeing to meet again next week.
Jennifer Check
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The pair of you had become half-decent lab partners over the last few weeks, but she didn't seem to be doing well with the subject. As a result, you decided that you would volunteer to tutor her in the subject after school. So, there you were, on your way to her house after school to hang out and help her study up on the subject and with the homework. It was a cloudy day, and you could tell that a storm was brewing in those clouds above your head. Because of this, you decided to walk a bit faster to avoid being soaked.
As you arrived at Jennifer's house, you knocked gently on the door. When you received no answer, you hesitantly knocked harder. Very suddenly, a slightly older woman answered the door, assumingly Jennifer's mom. The woman looked you up and down, then quickly turned to yell over her shoulder, "Jenny! Your new friend is here!" She then quickly invited you in and brought you a small tray of white-chocolate macadamia nut cookies, offering you to take one or two ((If you have an allergy to nuts, then M&M cookies.)) "I made these for you two while you were studying. There's also sodas in the fridge in case you need a drink." Jennifer's mom said joyfully, before scooping the strap of a purse onto her shoulder. "I'll be off now, I have a job interview to get to. Jen's room is upstairs, first door on the right. Have fun you two!" She informed you before heading out the door.
You walked up the stairs until you found an oak door, and knocked before coming in. "Uh, hi, it's (Y/N), I'm here to help you study..?" You said as you slowly walked in and shut the door behind you. Jennifer was standing, looking in the mirror and smearing concealer under her eyes. She sighed and looked over to you. "Sit on the bed. You know, I was gonna gut you like a fish and drink your blood like a Slurpee, but my mom seems to like you, and I don't think you're too bad. Shame, would have been a great opportunity." She said nonchalantly. As she turned to you, you saw that her face was pale and broken out in acne.
Your heart skipped a beat and the color drained from your face. "I'm sorry, w-what...?" You tried to gulp down the fear in your words. "I'm a succubus, idiot. Don't think that I didn't notice you staring at the blood on my shoes the first day we met. I feed on people's bodies and sexual energy so I can feel good and look good. But I've decided you're worth keeping around, so I'll save that for the next chump. So, shall we get to know each other?" She said calmly as she sat down beside you on the bed.
Billy Loomis
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You were home alone yet again, but this time it was mid day. You were watching horror movies out of boredom on your couch, when you got a call. You hesitantly answered, to hear a familiar voice on the other side of the phone. "I'm here, come let me in." You carried the phone with you. You figured one of your friends had stopped by to say hi, and their voice just sounded messed up due to shitty reception. You went to your front door, and looked through the peephole to see someone in a shitty costume, probably from Walmart, as it was October, and stores were starting to sell Halloween costumes and decorations. You hung up the phone and stuck it in your pocket, opening the door slightly with the chain lock still intact.
"Cut it out, prankster. That's not a very creepy costume. Ooo! I'm so scared!! Listen, I've seen the original Japanese film The Ring a million times, I'm not too scared of much." You heard the person sigh and push the door forward aggressively, breaking the lock. You jumped back in shock. "Hey! You're paying for that, asshole!" You yelled only for a quick response. "No, I don't think I will, beautiful. The man said, taking off his mask. To your shock, it was someone that you went to school with, Billy Loomis. You remember him graduating just the year before you, and were a bit shocked at his sudden appearance. You two had talked a bit, and you could consider yourselves acquaintances, but never really close friends.
Billy took a step forward, and in turn, you took one back. He put his hands up, showing he had no weapons in his hands. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt, that's not what I came to do. I just want to...get to know you. Look, you can pat me down, if you really feel the need. I don't have any weapons on me." You lowered your defenses a bit, but still kept them up. "Why would you want to know me so bad?" You asked hesitantly. "Well, I looked through your window and realized I'd found you again. And I wanted to get to know the pretty (girl/boy/person) I used to look at in the hallways every day." He said in a smooth tone. And that's where your night started.
Thomas Hewitt
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It was a lovely Texas summer day. A warm breeze carried through the semi-tall grass in the fields, and the smell of fresh bread filled the small wooden house. On this fine afternoon, you happened to be listening to some old music, from the 50s-60s, and baking. When you least expected it, you heard a loud knock on the door. You figured it might have been one of your new neighbors looking to get to know you, or ask to borrow something. You strolled to the door and opened it, to see a rather large man in a butcher's apron, curly dark hair, and a rather scarred face on the other side. Though he had somewhat of a threatening aura, you knew that there was more behind his appearance.
You saw him open his mouth, but then stop and think for a moment. He hesitantly put his hands up and made a few broken and hand signals. You realized quickly that it was sign language, as you had an uncle growing up that happened to be deaf, so you learned it so that you two could talk. "I'm not deaf, I just don't like to speak." You watched him sign apprehensively, and responded allowed. "That's okay, hun. What can I do for you?" You asked, and he thought for a moment. "Do you have some salt I can use? Papa shot a..." He stopped for a moment, then looked back up to meet your eyes. "Papa shot a deer, and we ran out of salt to dry out the hide and season the meat." He asked, and you replied. "Of course! Come right in, I keep a few bags in the cupboard, I have a half-full one you can take home." You told him as you allowed him to come in and shut the door behind him.
Your bread sat warm in the window-sill, cooling down. As you handed him the salt, he pointed over to it. "Oh, do you want a piece?" He nodded aggressively, and you smiled. You grabbed the metal baking sheet and put it on the counter, slicing a few pieces. "Here, you can have more than one. I make it all the time, and it's just me here to eat it anyways." You told him. "Would you like to sit down and chat for a moment? I can make you tea or coffee too if you like? You can tell me about yourself. That is, if you don't have to be home right quick." The man nodded again, and set the salt down on the counter. "My name's Thomas. I'd like some...Peppermint tea, if you have it." The man signed to you, his guard down as he clearly felt welcomed in the household. "Okay, Thomas, right on it." You smiled warmly and handed him a thick slice of warm bread with butter and mulberry jam smeared over the top. "Take a seat, dear."
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~Author's Note~
Hi guys, I'm so sorry it took so long to get this second part out :( I've just been really stressed and not in a great mental place, plus the factor of writer's block and being scared to burn myself out. But thank you for those who have stayed through the hiatus to continue reading!! Please comment below if you have any character or scenario requests. Goodbye for now, loves!
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