#going to think of this for at least three more working days

[sanriovin]

hear me out on this one y'all.

imagine yourself coming back home from a hard day at work, right? all overwhelmed, exhausted, annoyed at the world, and so on. as soon as you walk into your shared room though, you see a sight you weren't expecting in the least.

your husband, kento nanami, jerking himself off.

poor man, on his one day off, which were EXTREMELY rare for him, you, as luck had it, had to go to work :( and he was all needy and desperate for you, resorting to masturbating, which he never did often, even more so after the two of you became a couple.

his big, strong, calloused hand from the type of jobs he was involved in, wrapped nicely around his aching, pulsing cock, fisting himself, as pathetic, desperate groans and moans of your name and how good he was feeling left his lips, as his hips bucked up further into his hand from the pleasure he was feeling.

his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, head lolling back into the soft, welcoming pillows, dressed in a gentle linen pillowcase, undoubtedly not even realising that you had came home. the sight before you stirred something inside of you, making the exhaustion and annoyance from the day disappear completely, instead, replacing it with a feeling of your own neediness, and a sense of pride, seeing how your husband could fall apart. it gave you ideas. MANY ideas.

"Kento?" you spoke from your spot at the door, your eyes trailing down your husband's half-nude form; his trousers and boxers gone, his tie loosened, three tops buttons undone from the top.

hearing your voice breaking through the sounds of his ragged breathing, loud grunts of pleasure, and the occasional moan or two, his hand came to a stop, his eyes opened wide, looking at you, with shock, embarrassment, and shame. he couldn't even bring himself to hide his body, in a state of processing what had happened.

placing your bag down on the dresser near the door, you took one step, then another, then another, as you approached your shared bed, your eyes locked onto kento, not looking away for even a mere second, in fear that you would miss even the slightest reaction from your normally composed husband.

he swallowed harshly, audibly, slowly moving his hand away from where it was nicely wrapped around previously, placing it down on the linen clad duvet, averting eye contact with you, his cheeks flushed a soft pink, from either the embarrassment, or the physicality and feelings that masturbation brought, or both?

"I'm sorry, darling, I wasn't expecting you to be home so soon." he spoke a quiet apology, seeming genuine with it, but how could you even be mad at him? or how could he even think you would be mad at him?

shaking your head, you moved yourself down onto the bed, situating yourself in between his thighs, watching how his adam's apple bobbed with nervousness and excitement, how a dribble of precum ran down his dick with every tremor that ran down his body.

"You're sorry for what, Kento?" you asked, the question being more of a chastise for him even thinking that he needed to apologise for this, rather than an actual question. in all honesty, seeing your husband like this, undone into a puddle of desperation and lust, was something you would kill to see on a daily, so you were definitely not complaining.

taking a single finger, you trailed it down his thigh, inching closer and closer to the one spot that was the key to getting rid of all his frustrations and stress, even if just for a day. he let out a quiet sigh, watching you with eager eyes, silently pleading with you to do something, anything, to relieve the pulsing ache.

"Do you want me to help you, Kento?" you, once again, gave him a question. your voice was sweet, soft, as if lulling him into a sort of haze. your voice worked like a siren's, bringing him in and in, with only mere words. having him wrapped around your pinky. true, most of the time, nanami preferred to be the dominating one, the one in control, however, he also knew how to let himself be taken care of by others, specifically, you.

"Please, honey, please, I need you so badly." his voice was strained, barely managing to hold himself back; hold himself out for long enough for you to do something.

taking that as your sign to continue, you put a coy little smile on your face, lowering yourself to lay comfortably between his legs on the soft bed, before placing one, single, chaste kiss to his angry, red tip.

he let out a groan in response, head falling back, peeking at you from under his eyelashes, hands trembling slightly at the feeling. your kiss felt good, so good, but it wasn't near enough for what he wanted, no, needed.

"Darling you, fuck, tease..." he groaned out, situating himself to rest on his elbows, so he could see you better, and see what you were up to.

you would have teased him for longer, but the look on his face, one of love, neediness, pure eagerness and desire, was enough to pull you out of your teasing and cruel state, and you decided to help your beloved partner, help him release all the stress within him.

opening your lips, you slowly lowered yourself onto his aching, hardened cock, lowering yourself further and further, as you attempted to take him fully, with, as you soon found out, ended futilely on the first go, with uncovered space still left at his base. however, that alone was enough to cause nanami to let out a low moan, pressing his eyes shut again, letting the darkness consume him as he focused entirely on the pleasure he felt in the moment.

the scene was messy. your drool dribbling down nanami's sensitive cock, the tip of it pressed and poked against the back of your throat, trying to push further and further, however, it was stopped through the tightening of your throat, and the sounds of gags and chokes on his large size.

he gently moved one of his hands to rest on your head, not pushing, not pressing down, just trying to ground himself to reality from the immense pleasure he felt. "Sweetheart, it feels so good... You're doing so well..."

nanami kento has a way with words. a way that made you feel eager and excited to pleasure him, to satisfy him, in hopes of getting more and more praise.

trying to breathe through your nose, you slowly relaxed your throat, bobbing your head up and down, attempting to inch further and further down his large dick, holding onto his thighs with trembling hands, as your tongue swirled around his leaking tip, which resulted in a loud, higher pitched moan than before from nanami.

the moan was all you needed to proceed with your actions, desperately trying to bring your beloved to the edge of release, as you hollowed out your cheeks, sucking on his cock so well he could practically see stars in his eyes.

taking one of your hands, you gingerly brought it to his balls, beginning to slowly mess and play with them, testing new waters to see if it would have the desired effect on nanami.

and it did not fail.

in mere seconds, nanami was falling apart on the bed, his legs trembling pathetically, his hips jerking up to your mouth, his back on the bed, his arms having lost all strength to support himself. curses, moans, and groans of your name kept spilling from his mouth, as not once did he open his eyes. hot spurts of his cum landed in your mouth, on your tongue, as you began to taste the salty yet slightly bitter taste of it on your tongue.

letting him ride out high long-awaited orgasm, you took all that he gave you, only pulling off once you saw his body laying practically limp on the bed, regaining himself from the experience.

but, of course, he was a gentleman at heart. he wouldn't let such a favour go unrewarded, oh no, he couldn't have that.

"How about you let me pleasure you now, love? What do you say?"

(author's note: finished writing this after finishing AOT S3 - the ending hurt so bad that i couldn't even cry)

[darkbluekies]

GOLDEN TRIAL PT2: A slippery slope

Part 1

Yandere!mafia x yandere!female!mafia x female!yandere x yandere!king x yandere!doctor x male!detective!reader

Summary: after your adventure on Normandie, you've been dealing with the consequences of the horror. Unfortunately, you start to realize that you might not be the person you think you are. It doesn't help when a certain doctor finds you again.

Warnings: lingering head trauma, identity crisis, kidnapping, mocking, dog collar (lol), syringes/drugs, forced tattooing,

Word count: 9.3k

You get off the subway in silence and push your way through the crowd, walk up the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. Blinking, you try to fix your blurry vision. Sometimes, even though it’s been three months since you were hit on the head with a glass bottle, you’re reminded of the events on board the liner Normandie. You had been running around over two days before going to the hospital about the blow to your head. It seems to have been too late. What could have been brushed off with some bandage and disinfection had now given you minor problems you are dealing with daily. Not enough to hurt or bother, but enough for your agency to hesitate sending you out on missions. 

These last months have been weird, to say the least. Not only have you been forced to take a break from your job, you have been lonely. So very lonely. You haven’t done anything and the only time you’ve went outside the door is when you go to your doctor’s appointments and when buying food. After the ominous note you got, you have been careful about going outside, scared that you will meet them again. How long will your life be forced to be like this? Maybe you should leave New York and start over somewhere new, where you can live a normal life. No more detective work, no more hiding, no more … fear. Perhaps a farm on the west coast? 

You open the door to the private hospital. It’s located in a house no other than any of the other houses on the street. The first time you were here, you thought that you had been given the wrong address and waked into someone’s private house. Quietly you walk into the reception. The young woman behind the desk has always been friendly. Her sparkly blue eyes and chestnut hair remind you of a squirrel.  

“Good morning”, the receptionist smiles at you. “Name?”

“Y/N L/N”, you say. “I’m here for a revisit at eleven am.”

“Ah, yes, I remember you. Your doctor is currently on sick leave, so there will be another doctor taking care of you today. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Take a seat and the doctor will see you in a moment.”

“Okay, thank you.”

You sit down in one of the wooden chairs. The clock on the wall ticks like a doomsday clock. You can’t help but shiver. 

Your eyes wander in the small room. A mother with her young son, a father with his daughter, an old couple. And you, alone. There’s paintings on the walls, as if to distract one from the horror they might have to partake in when they step through one of the three doors on the right hand side of the room. 

You’re not sure why you’re here. You have been going to this doctor for three months and all he’s done is to confirm that you do, indeed, have head trauma. As if you couldn’t figure that part out for yourself. Sometimes you wonder if you still have shards of glass stuck in your head. 

“The doctor will see you now, Mister Y/N”, the receptionist suddenly says. “It’s the middle door.”

You stand up and walk over to the doors on the other side of the room, opening the middle one. Behind the desk, a man sits. He looks up at you and you can feel your heart stop, and so does the clock. For a second, you wonder if it’s one of the side effects from the glass bottle, but you can still hear your heart pound loudly in your chest. He’s trying to hide a smile, trying so hard to make it look like you’ve never met before. What do you do? Do you close the door behind you and get into his office or do you make a scene and get away? Your hand still holds onto the door handle behind you. 

“Close the door, if you don’t mind”, Doctor Kry says and raises his eyebrows testingly when you flinch back. “Don’t even think about it. Close the door.”

With a frustrated sigh, you close it, but remain by the wall. 

“I figure that you’re not going to sit down”, Doctor Kry says and rises from his chair. 

“Don’t come closer”, you say quickly. “I will make a scene.”

“I’m fine with that. Easier for me to get you into a lunatic asylum.”

You freeze. 

“Your usual doctor is on sick leave, so I’m here today”, Doctor Kry continues as if the prior conversation never happened. “I hope that is fine with you.”

“I am not comfortable with having you anywhere near me”, you spit. “How did you even know that I went here?”

Doctor Kry leans back against his desk with his hands in his pockets. “I can’t take the credit for that, unfortunately. It was my dear friend miss Carter who managed to find you.”

“Hedwig?”

“Yeah. Who knew that a young heiress with a phenomenally large contact net and money would be able to find someone like you. Unbelievable.”

You don’t give in to his joke. 

“Sit down, Y/N”, Doctor Kry says and pulls out the chair for you, “or I will get you dragged out of here in a straightjacket.”

Involuntarily you sit down in his chair. Doctor Kry walks around you and you follow him in the corner of your eye. 

“I read your report”, Doctor Kry says. “Trauma to the head? What happened?”

“You fucking know”, you spit.

“Oh, right.”

You want to slap that smirk off of his face. He continues to smile as he puts on his gloves. 

“Let’s get it under control”, Doctor Kry says and takes your head in his hands. 

You flinch, silently praying that he won’t twist your neck and break it. 

“Don’t touch my neck”, you say. 

“How else am I going to treat you?” Doctor Kry scoffs. 

You start to wonder if he’s messing with you when he’s just touching around. He’s too close to your neck, he could snap it. 

“Can you hurry up?” The words just slip out, before you have the time to shut your mouth. 

To your horror, he chuckles. You freeze in your seat. 

“Why did you go so stiff all of a sudden?” Doctor Kry asks smugly, grabbing your shoulders. “Are you scared that I’m going to hurt you, Golden Boy?”

The familiar pet name sends a wave of nausea through your body. You feel how every hair on your body stands on edge. Terrified to meet his blue eyes, you concentrate on a point on the wall where it looks like a small bug has landed. 

“You threatened me with a tranquilizer”, you breathe out. “You could have helped me with my head that night — you’re a doctor — but you didn’t. You could have prevented me from coming here.”

“I could have”, Doctor Kry says. “But why would I? Remember what I told you? I’ve never said that I was nice.”

You stand up, shaking off his hands. 

“We’re done here”, you decide and start to move towards the door. 

“Alright, I suppose so”, Doctor Kry says. 

You grab the door handle with your shaking hand and open it forcefully. 

“I guess that I will see you soon, Y/N”, you hear his voice say behind you. “Can’t let a patient go before they’re healed, now can I?”

You ignore him. Stumbling on trembling legs, you pass the patients in the waiting room, struggle past the receptionist and out of the house. You throw up in the nearest bush.

For a few moments, the world has gone silent again. You can hear your heart thumping in your ear, feel every nerve in your body beat alongside it and you have to sit down on a nearby bench to collect your spinning head. That eerie feeling you had on board the Normandie returns … as if you’re being watched. You look around in a dizzy, blurry haze. Everyone looked like each other. Anyone could be them. If Kry had found you, what says that the others aren’t around the corner?

Going home feels wrong. What if they follow you and see where you live? Where do you go? What do you do? 

Your numb legs take you to a nearby telephone booth. With shaking fingers you call your boss and tell him about the incident. 

“You told me that I’d be safe!” you shout. “I knew that it would end like this! I knew that this would happen!”

“Y/N-”

“If I die, it’s your fucking fault, okay? You sent me out on that ship alone and now I have to deal with the consequences of your choices!”

You throw the telephone back in its hold and scream in frustration. The sound doesn’t escape the little telephone booth, which is probably for the best. You don't want to go to that mental asylum Doctor Kry threatened with.

You stand still for a few seconds, breathing heavily. You feel like crying.

The coming days can't be described as anything less than torture. You look over your shoulder for every step you take, flinch at every sound. Just as paranoid as on board the ship. Those four days will haunt you for the rest of your life … and the ones who caused it will hunt you until you're in their claws.

To calm your nerves, you've had to drink strong whiskey. Nothing else seems to work. Should you leave the country? You shiver. The thought of stepping aboard another ship again makes your skin crawl. You take another sip of the whiskey. It doesn't burn anymore.

The world started to blend together in blurry waves ages ago. It's starting to shift into black. Finally you're going to fall asleep and not have to worry about anything in this world. You’ll be safe in dreamland. 

A small sound reaches your drowsy ears, but you’re too far off to react in time, almost as if you’re drugged. The door opens slowly and a dark figure enters. Everything is fuzzy. The person says something, but you can’t hear it. A cloudy wall separates you from you and whoever has broken into your apartment. A cloud which quickly turns everything black.

When you wake up again, you feel every muscle in your body pulsating, hurting and a nauseating feeling roars in your body. You’re lying on a couch in what looks like a warehouse … or a basement. 

“He’s awake!” a familiar voice gasps. 

Hedwig jumps up from a chair right by your head and waves for someone to come over. You hear the sound of people move closer. You try to pull yourself up on your elbows. 

“You son of a bitch, Y/N”, you hear Silas say, a clear smirk in his taunting voice. “You thought that you could get away. How naive!”

“I want to put it on”, Jerry says and takes something from Edmund’s hands.

“Fuck sake, Jerry!” he hisses and pulls his hand quickly away. “I've told you to trim those nails!”

Jerry doesn't bother to answer. She walks over to you and slips something around your neck. You're too dizzy to realize what it is before it is too late. A collar and a leash. Like a dog. Just like they had promised.

“What an obedient dog”, she snickers. “Letting me put it on without protests.”

She tugs on the leash, causing your head to rip forward. The air in your throat gets abruptly cut off. Their laughter feels your aching head.

“Golden boy deserves a treat”, Edmund smirks and holds a piece of chocolate to your lips.

You turn your head away.

“Don't touch me!” you cough.

“A little too late for that”, Doctor Kry says and shrugs. “How do you think we got you here?”

You try to get up from the couch. Nausea roars through your body. Jerry pulls the leash towards her. You stumble before falling down on your knees, catching yourself with your hands on the hard cement.

“Just face it”, she says cockily. “You're too hungover to overpower us, and once you're sober enough you will already be broken. Don't bother to try anything. Hm, maybe he should stay on his knees, or what do you all think?”

“Stop fucking around”, Edmund sighs in annoyance and grabs the leash out of her hands, pulling harshly. “Stand up.”

It's on shaking legs that you manage to get on your feet. You're the same height as the king, but feel unbelievably inferior. Is it the collar around your neck, the degrading look in his eyes or the fact that you know what they're capable of that makes you terrified? You can't meet their eyes.

“This is humiliating, can you stop?” you hear Hedwig asks.

She's standing on the far end of their little line, a few steps away from them, with her arms hugging herself. Disgust covers her face.

“I feel nauseous just watching it”, she mutters. 

“Don't worry, Hedwig, we're just playing with him”, Silas smiles and ruffles your hair with his hand. “We're not hurting him.”

“Hedwig shouldn't take him”, Edmund says. “I don't trust him.”

“What do you want?” you ask, trying your best not to sound like a pathetic little puppy.

“What did you do with the list of names?” Silas asks. “The one behind the painting.”

“And where is my fucking painting?” Edmund asks.

“The painting, I don't know”, you say and meet Silas black eyes. “Your list was hidden on board the ship, but my contacts have found it. They're on the way to arrest everyone on your list.”

“Oh, are they now?” he asks deadly calmly. “And I suppose that you are still their shining Golden Boy thanks to that?”

You lower your eyes.

“Or did someone get put on an indefinite hiatus because they're a security risk?” Silas continues, moving closer, tugging ever so carefully on the leash. “Are you sure that you're their favorite? You never seem to have much protection, despite the threat against you. Don't worry, Golden Boy, we will make sure nothing ever reaches you. We will make sure you stay hidden.”

“If they don't want to give us our note, we won't give them their darling dearest”, Jerry says, shrugging.

You feel a lump in your stomach. Your contacts will never give over the note … and in that case they'll never give you. Wonderful.

A tug on the leash brings you back to reality. 

“It's healing quite nicely, don't you think?” Jerry asks, tilting her head to get a better view of the back of your neck.

“It's still fresh, it's nowhere near healing”, Doctor Kry says with his monotone voice, arms crossed over his chest.

Their eyes turn to your neck and you gulp, realizing that part of the pain isn't coming from your head, but from the back of your neck, easily mistaken as the brainstem. You lift your hand and try to touch whatever is hurting you. Hedwig picks up a pocket mirror from her pocket and hand it to you. You’re in disbelief when you see black marks on your skin, drawn in a strange symbol you have never seen before. The skin is swollen and tender to the touch. 

“What is this?” you question in pure fear. 

“We told you that you would be tattooed, didn’t we?” Silas smiles. “That tattoo is the symbol of my group. It’s somewhat of a trademark. Everyone who sees you will know that you belong to me.”

“I hate that you are the only one getting associated”, Edmund mutters. 

“Well, I am the only one with a symbol, aren’t I?”

“You are so self centered.” Edmund puts his hand on Hedwig’s shoulder. “As if we haven’t got one?”

“‘Self centered’, you absolute hypocrite”, Jerry scoffs. 

“I did not consent to this!” you shout angrily. “How could you just tattoo me when I wasn’t even conscious?!”

“It was pretty easy since you were, as you said, ‘not even conscious’”, Silas smiles teasingly. 

“Enough of this foolishness”, Doctor Kry cuts in. “We have things to do. The train leaves tomorrow morning and we still have things to do.”

Train? 

“Give the poor boy some food and make sure he sleeps”, Silas says. “It’ll be a long day for him tomorrow.”

They start to move towards the stairs of the basement, all but Hedwig who have went upstairs to get you a plate and Edmund — the man who’s holding the leash. 

“You don’t have to be here”, she says. “I can take care of him myself.”

“I don’t trust him”, Edmund mutters angrily and wraps more of the leash around his hand. “He knocked Jerry over when she was guarding him and — fuck it — she is tougher than you. I am not letting him anywhere near you alone.”

“Can you at least let go of the leash?” Hedwig asks. 

Edmund lets it go with great dramatic effect. You sit down on the couch with a thumping heartbeat. Hedwig sits down beside you, turning towards you. Edmund stands behind her, towering over the young woman like a giant, glaring at you. It reminds you of a lioness behind their cub. 

“Are you hungry?” Hedwig asks and looks down at the plate. “I’ve watched my maid cook ever since I was a little child but I don’t have much experience with it myself so I apologize if it isn’t the best.”

“I’m nauseous.”

“Then some sleep will do you good.”

“What train did he talk about? I’m not going on some train!”

“You are”, Edmund says, “and you’re doing it tomorrow morning. In a box.”

You look at him, baffled. “What?”

He looks at you with mockery in his icy blue eyes. “Nobody told you? You’re getting a first class ticket. I heard that they make those wooden boxes are quite comfortable nowadays.”

“I’m not going in some fucking box!”

You stand up in a swift, aggressive motion. Not only will they bring you onto a train going to who-knows-where, but they’re also stuffing you in a trunk? No shame. 

“Where are you taking me?”

“My father has a house on the coast, by the beach”, Hedwig replies. “You’ll like it. Hey, If you’re not going to eat, then will you please go to sleep?” 

“I will not be able to sleep. If I have to drink myself to black out, do you really think I will be able to fall asleep here?”

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. You don’t want to see a sympathetic look from her. It’s their fault, after all. They took everything from you … and now she’s looking at you as if she’s pitying you. 

You refuse to sleep, refuse to even sit on the couch. It doesn't take long before the door to the basement stairs open and the sound of footsteps fill the air. You look up, seeing Doctor Kry walk down. In his hand, he holds a transparent syringe.

“I suppose that you are familiar with this”, he says and looks at the needle. “I thought that it was finally time for you to get acquainted with it.”

“Don't come close”, you warn him.

He's quicker than you've anticipated. Before you know it, you're tackled onto the hard floor. It knocks the air out of your lungs. Doctor Kry is stronger than you could have imagined. He doesn't look muscular underneath his clothes, and he probably isn't as muscular as Silas, but he is strong with firm grips. You try your best to fight against the needle coming closer to your neck.

“Goodnight, Golden Boy”, Doctor Kry says and finally punctures your neck with the sharp end of the needle.

He gets off of you immediately and you try to get up and run. You manage to get a few steps forward before your legs give up and you fall down on your knees. You start to lose your hearing, and your sight start to darken. Doctor Kry grabs your shoulders and pull you over to the couch. The last thing you see before it all turns back is his blue eyes staring down at you.

You’re not sure if you have opened your eyes. You try to shut them tight, then open them again. It’s just as dark. Your knees are pressed to your chin, arms folded over your chest. Panic rises in your body, suddenly feeling every single cell of your body and what it touches. Painfully aware that you’re squashed together in a wooden box. 

“Let me out!” you shout and try to bang on the walls, floor and ceiling. 

A harsh slap on the side of the box makes you flinch. 

“Shut the fuck up”, Silas voice hisses through gritted teeth, shocking you for being too close. “Do not make a single sound, whatever you do.”

You breathe heavily and crawl together. For these past months, you’ve felt scared … but never like this. The only thing you can compare it to is that morning when you ran around the Normandie with the painting tucked under your arm. Your heart has never beaten that quickly before. And here you are now, in a wooden box with a dog collar around your throat and a tattoo in the back of your neck. The leash is gone.

They won’t kill you before they have gotten the list, right?

You hear men's voices and suddenly the box jerks. Your head slams against the side and you groan, quickly biting your lip to avoid making sound. Silas will probably punch you if you disobey his command. You form fists. 

Whoever is handling the box does not care for it. It seems to go back and forth, up and down, with you hitting your head with every jerking motion. 

Finally, finally, it stops. The moving, the sound, everything stops. You breathe out, listening. Where are you? Can you get out of the box? You try to push the top of the box, but it won’t budge. Neither will the walls. With a frustrated yell, you kick and then, in defeat, sink down again. 

Silence keeps you company for what feels like ages. Suddenly, the ground under you start to shake and move. You gasp. The train!

It takes a while before the top of the box is moved. Bright light hits your eyes and you squint. 

“Good morning”, Silas smiles and pulls you up from the box. 

Your muscles are stiff and aching, popping when you try to move. Your legs threaten to give out. 

“Ouch …”, you moan. 

“Did you have a nice time?” Jerry smiles and claps your back. 

You look around, blurry eyes being met by a cargo hold. Silas and Jerry are the only ones here. 

��What are you doing?” you ask, stressed. 

“What do you mean?” Jerry wonders.

“What do you want? Why am I out?”

“Did you think that you were going to spend the entire trip in the box?” Silas asks. 

“Edmund said-”

“And you believe a single word that stuck up manchild says?” Jerry scoffs and grabs your arm. “Come now.”

They take you out of the cargo hold and into a thin corridor. Running along your left are cabins and to your right are windows. Silas opens a door and directs you inside the cabin. It’s a suite, and a gorgeous one a that. A king sized bed, couches, big windows, drapes and your own bathroom. Hedwig and Edmund sits on the couch doctor Kry is leaning against the window. Behind him, America swooshes past. 

“Here he is”, Jerry says.

“What’s going on?” you stutter. “What do you want?”

“We are not going to let you be alone in cargo hold”, Silas says. “We are not monsters.”

I have other opinions.

“We’ve decided that you are going to be by our sides so that we can keep an eye on you”, Hedwig says and smiles. “If you are in the cargo hold you could die.”

“You’re not going to wear the leash because that will cause people to be suspicious”, Doctor Kry says. “Yes, we are not the only ones on this train.”

“You will not talk to any of them”, Jerry says. 

“You will stay here in my cabin”, Silas says. “My second in command will be in Jerry’s cabin, so don’t think that you can do anything towards me. He’ll be just on the other side of the wall.”

Why does he have to be here too? 

Everyone leaves the suite but Silas. You sink down on the bed with your head in your hands. 

“Why do you do this?” you groan.

Silas sits down beside you. “You did this to yourself”, he says, voice weirdly calm. “You put your nose into the wrong business, knowing that it could put your life in danger.”

“It was my job.”

Was. 

“I still don’t understand why they sent you on that ship without backup … or any kind of protection at all besides that pitiful gun. Almost like they wanted you to get caught.” Silas furrows his dark brows and looks at you, unreadable hint in his black eyes. “Are you even sure if they liked you at all?”

This has to be some kind of scare-tactic. Don’t fall for it.

“Of course they did”, you mumble. “I had a high position, a good salary … they liked me. They did.”

“Are you saying that to reassure me or you?”

Silas stands up and breathes out. 

“Let’s go eat lunch, I’m starving”, he says. “You must be hungry too, I heard from Hedwig that you didn’t eat dinner last night. Come now.”

Silas walks out of the room, holding the door open out to the corridor. His words ring in your mind. Who are you trying to reassure?

“I’m not waiting all day”, Silas calls out. “You’re not getting lunch if you stay in there.”

You hurry to stand up and follow him out to the corridor, having to pass him on the way. The thin corridor is big enough for one of you. He walks closely behind you, peering over your shoulder. You’re led into a restaurant car with tables of four, each having seats instead of tables. The carriage is divided in two with a with a glass wall with open space where a door normally sits. Silas chooses one of these seats. 

“Sit down”, he says. “Now. By the window.”

You give him a questionable look before sitting down in the seat closest to the window. Silas sits down beside you, blocking your escape to the middle aisle. His second in command is already sitting by the table in the seat in front of you. Silas holds three menus laying on the set table in front of you, giving you one. 

“Choose what you want”, he says. “I have money.”

“I don’t doubt that”, you mumble. “With your dirty businesses you must make a lot of money?”

Silas scoffs, but there’s a small smile tugging on his lips. “More than you can imagine, Golden Boy.”

You start to look through the menu for things you like. You are, indeed, starving and head for a grilled salmon while Silas chooses a medium rare steak. When a servant is taking your orders, you look out the big window at the blurry obstacles whooshing by. Where are they taking you? You’re not leaving much, but you can’t bring yourself to start over. New York is not for you, not anymore, but you don’t want them to force you to leave your home. What will they do to you? You can’t give them the painting, you don’t know where it is anymore, and you don’t have the list of criminal names. You’re not sure that you will be able to be switched with it. You don’t have anything to offer them, but yourself … but why would they want you? 

“Pretty quiet today, huh?” Silas says. “You usually quite quick-witted.”

You pull your eyes away from the window and look at him. It’s almost comical, how a secret agent is having lunch with a mafia leader and his second in command. You have done it before, but under much different circumstances. 

“I don't have much to say”, you answer shortly. 

Everything in your body is hurting, which isn’t weird since you’ve spent the night crammed into a wooden box. Your broken head is not a help.

Silas converses with his second in command — a man you haven’t heard talk more than necessary. 

The food is served by a servant in a spotless tuxedo and slicked back hair. You thank him. It'd be so easy to let the words slip out of your mouth. A simple ‘help me’. The words are soft and rounded, it wouldn't be hard to pronounce them, but the fact that Silas and his second in command are sitting right here makes it impossible. The words are so simple. But as soon as he arrives, he disappears. 

“I've heard that the food on board is tasty, it better be”, Silas jokes and his second in command chuckles quietly.

He has gotten beef with grilled asparagus. You pick up your knife and fork and start to eat in silence. Silas is right, it’s delicious. Better than any of the food you have aten these last few months. It makes you guilty for enjoying it. 

“I have some rules, Golden Boy”, Silas says from beside you. 

You look at him. You are not a Golden Boy. He said that himself. Silas meets your eyes. 

“If you disobey us”, Silas starts, “by either trying to talk to someone, or come up with some stupid idea to get off the train, I will handcuff you to me, got that?”

Imagining being handcuffed to him, forced to join his every step, not have a single second to yourself is enough to make you shiver. 

“Yeah”, you reply shortly. “I understand.”

You let your eyes wander through the restaurant car, at the other passengers sitting and enjoying their meals. An older man is reading the newspaper while enjoying a bowl of soup, a mother and daughter pair are eating cheeses while chatting. How many on this train belong to Silas? He wouldn’t travel with only one man.

“I’m thinking about getting another car”, Silas smiles at his second in command and shoots a fork full of steak to his lips. “Any tips of a model?”

“One of those Ford models”, he replies. “It was good enough for Bonnie and Clyde.”

The news of the infamous couple’s death broke out in May last year. Some colleagues had been working on that case, from what you remember. For years. 

“I’m not Bonnie and Clyde”, Silas says and smiles. “But I’m a bit jealous of them. Imagine having a partner in crime like that. I mean, more than just a brother in arms, a love partner. Or what do you say, Golden Boy?”

You look up from your plate. Your vision has started to blur again. 

“Don’t you want a love partner, hm?” Silas asks, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Someone to back you up when needed?”

“I don’t want to answer personal questions.”

He exchanges a look with his second in command before smiling into his plate. “You’re shy, I see. Didn’t know that you were so cute.”

You ignore him. 

When lunch is done, Silas decides that it’s time for you to get back to the cabin. You get up, from your seat and scootch out into the middle aisle. You’re not sure if it is the moving of the carriage or your balance that causes you to stumble. Silas catches you by the arm. 

“That wine you had with lunch didn’t make you drunk, did it?” he asks. 

“No”, you reply and gulp. “It’s my head.”

“I see.”

You’re sure that it isn’t meant for you, but you can see how Silas gives his second in command a murderous look. Doctor Kry had told you that it had been Jerry and Silas’s second in command who had hit you with that glass bottle that night. 

“You should go rest, Y/N”, he says and places his hand on your back to guide you. 

He leads you back to your suite. The second in command closes the door behind him. You sit down on the couch, but Silas pulls you up again. 

“What do you think that you are doing?” he asks. “The bed is over there.”

“I’m not sharing a bed with you”, you mumble. 

“You are. Stop being childish and go to sleep.”

You’re pushed towards the bed. He’s quickly after you to pull the neatly fixed covers before you can change your mind. The mattress is softer than anything you’ve ever rested your back upon. 

“Sleep”, Silas orders. “I will get you for dinner.”

He asks his second in command to keep an eye on you. 

The gentle rocking of the train both soothes you to sleep and wakes you softly. You sit up and yawn. The second in command moves his eyes from the window. You can’t help but wonder if he ever does anything for pleasure or if he can turn off his emotions and needs whenever he wants. 

You reach for a glass of water on the bedside table and halt. After everything they’ve done, you wouldn’t be surprised if the water is contaminated. 

“It’s not dinner time”, the man says. “Back to sleep.”

“I’m not tired anymore.”

“Lay down.”

You sigh and lay down again, listen to the gentle rocking of the train against the rail. Last time you spent a night in a cabin with them was when you were tied on the floor. You should never have taken that mission. Your mind involuntarily drift to what Silas had said and feel how your heart squeezes in pain. It can’t be.

Suddenly, the door opens. 

“Time for dinner”, Silas says. “Get up, you need to eat.”

You groan and pull yourself up from the bed. The second in command follows closely to the restaurant cart. One table can only fit four passengers. They have to separate three and three, and then you’ll have to choose whichever combination is the least bad.

Hedwig, Edmund and Doctor Kry … or Silas, Jerry and the second in command. You sit down besides Hedwig. Edmund is quick to have her change seats with you, so that you’re by the window and she’s blocking the exit out to the middle aisle. The girl smiles at you and takes your hand. 

“You look much better without that inhumane leash”, she says. 

“I think he looks better with it”, Edmund mutters and inspect his silver knife. 

She ignores him. “What do you want to eat, sweetheart?”

You shrug, telling her that she can choose for you. You don’t say anything throughout dinner, even though Hedwig tries her best to spark a conversation with you. She talks about the scenery swooshing past outside the window, the beautiful interior, how much she has missed you and how happy she is to have you back. You drown it all out to the point of wondering if her voice is all just a hallucination.

You’re barely active during dinner, only being able to think about your — former — job. Heart feeling unbelievably heavy.

“I have to leave”, you whisper to Hedwig. “I have to be alone.”

“Are you okay?” Hedwig asks worriedly and watches how you stand up. 

“I need to go.”

“I’ll come with you.”

She excuses the both of you from the table. You can feel the others eyes linger on you, burn right through you. You’re sure that Edmund wants to say something, but he keeps his mouth shut for once. Hedwig takes your arm and leads you back to the cabin carriage. 

“I don’t understand why they’re so afraid of me being alone with you”, Hedwig giggles and opens the door to Silas’s suite. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

At this point you’re not sure what you would and wouldn’t do. 

“Do you want to sleep?” Hedwig asks and walks over to the bed. “I can tuck you in.”

You lay down in bed and Hedwig makes sure that none of your body parts escapes the covers. She looks pleased with herself and lets her hand caress your cheek. Her hazel eyes look down at you with immense love and for the moment that is the only thing you can believe. That kind of look can’t be mistaken. 

“Are you tired?” she asks softly, continuing to caress your cheek. 

You nod, despite not feeling the slightest bit tired. Exhausted, but not tired. 

“I will let you sleep”, she says and kisses your forehead. 

You close your eyes, hoping that she will think that you’re asleep and leave the room. You need to be alone, but Hedwig is making it impossible. As long as she knows that you’re awake, she will cling onto you like a leech. She’s like a dog, a puppy. 

But she doesn’t leave. You can feel her sit on the side of the bed, and without opening your eyes, you know that she is staring at you with that same look of extreme love. As if you are the most important thing in the world. Her sun, her solar system. 

Eventually, she leaves. You wait a few seconds before opening your eyes and letting out a sigh. Lying down makes it hard to breathe. You try sitting up, but the pressure over your chest remains. You pull at your tie to open your airways, but neither that or buttoning up the first buttons on your shirt help. Your fingers claw at the window lock, but it remains in place. God, how badly you need air. You hurry over to the door and open it, exiting out to the corridor. They can get you, you don’t care. You need air and you need it now. 

You walk through the claustrophobic corridor in the opposite direction of the dining hall. You reach a door with a window. The rails run away from the train, towards the horizon. You rip the door open and find yourself on a balcony. Fresh air roams around you and you grab onto the oval railing, breathing in deeply until your lungs can’t take anymore, welcoming the pleasurable feeling of light headiness. You sink down on the floor with your back towards the train’s wall, watching the surroundings disappear further away. The sun is setting in the horizon, like in a painting. 

The thoughts return. Was everything a lie? Were you nothing more than a pawn? Why were you put on that mission? Did they know that you would be taken? Broken? Damaged? They didn’t bother give you any security or backup, and when you weren’t killed or taken, they use the trauma they caused to put you on hiatus and made you look at fault. You have worked for them since you left school, given them your everything. Did they want to get rid of you? Were you worth nothing more? Did they ever care about you?

Suddenly you’re aware of the tears running down your cheeks.

“There you are”, a voice sighs. 

You flinch and look over your shoulder. Jerry is standing in the doorframe, holding her hands on either side.  Out of all the people who could find you, why did it have to be just Jerry?

“Everyone is looking for you”, Jerry says. 

“Didn’t mean to”, you mumble. 

“You better have a good explanation.” 

She sits down on the other side of the door, in arms reach of you. The door closes behind her, leaving the two of you on the balcony platform. It’s first now that she seems to notice that you’re crying. 

“Oh, what’s wrong?” she asks in a sarcastic tone, clearly mocking you. “Feeling homesick?”

“No”, you sigh and look down at your hands. “Just leave me alone.”

“Can’t do, princess. You are not allowed to be alone, you know that very well. But sure, I can leave. I can tell the other that you have attempted to escape.”

Your hand shoots forward to stop her from leaving. “No, don’t say that!”

“Then tell me. Hurry up, princess, I don’t got all night!”

You sigh and rest your head back against the wall. She’s doing it on purpose, you think, riling you up to the breaking point so that she has something to punish you for. 

“Jerry, stop”, you plead and hold your head in your hands. “I’m asking you nicely. Don’t do that.”

“In what position do you think you are to speak to me like that? Do I need to go get the leash to remind you who you are? Hm? Is that what you want, Golden Boy?”

The name breaks something in you. You feel so stupid. Like an absolute fool!

“Don’t call me that!” you shout. “I never was a fucking ‘Golden Boy’! They just used me! And I just let them do it! Like the idiot I am!”

Your head pounds worse than ever. You’re afraid that it is going to rip out of your skull. You can feel how Jerry moves closer. 

“They never fucking cared about me”, you hiss. “No one does!”

“Now, who told you that?” Jerry sighs.

“It’s obvious! Just look at how they’re treating me! They wanted to get rid of me, that’s why they sent me on that ship, wasn’t it …?”

Jerry sighs heavily and runs her hand through her black hair. “Well, fuck … I don’t know what the fuck to say.”

“Be quiet, then.”

You don’t want to hear her ‘I told you so’ mantra. You’ve understood how much of an idiot you are, you don’t need her to remind you. She removes your hands and forces you to look at her. 

“It does not fucking matter what they thought of you, okay?” she says. “I get that they tricked you but you’re never going back there, so drop them. They’re not worthy of your attention. Just look at what a mess you become when you think of them! And I don’t want to hear that shit again, about no one caring about you. We have looked for you day and night since that last night on the ship!”

“That’s different. You know that. You won’t get the list or the painting. If they wanted me gone, they won’t trade me for it. I’m useless to you.”

She sighs frustratedly and runs her hand through her black hair again. 

“Fuck, I am not made for this”, she mutters and looks around for help, but the only thing nearby are the passing landscape. “Listen, Y/N, we could have done things a whole lot differently. We didn’t actually need you, alright? Not for business. Hell, we don’t even want the same things! Me and Silas are the only ones wanting the list. Edmund wants his painting. I don’t even know what the doctor and Hedwig want, but do you know the only reason why the five of us stay together? Because of you, dumbass.”

She grabs your head and holds it to her chest, letting you cry. 

“The term ‘Golden Boy’ isn’t just because of your job, it’s more than that. Don’t take it the wrong way. Now stop talking like that, it is getting on my nerves. Pity yourself to someone else.”

Silence. You listen to the rattling sound, the wind and Jerry's irregular breathing.

“What did I do wrong?” you ask quietly, emotionlessly. “Why did they do that to me?”

“I don’t know, Y/N”, Jerry answers softly. “Some people are horrible. There is a difference between people who's openly bad, and those that pretend to be good but are rotting on the inside. I can’t stand those people. If you’re going to be a bad person, at least stand for it.”

“I feel like a fool.”

“You are a fool, but it isn’t your fault. You did what you had been told, like everyone else.”

“I wish that I knew why they decided to let me go … I mean, that way I could have prevented it … or fixed it.”

“Stop thinking about it. I told you that you’ll never deal with those people again. You’re with us now.”

You sigh. Listening to Jerry’s heart beat makes you want to laugh at how hard it is beating when she has acted like she doesn’t have one. 

“Get up”, she says after a while. “We can’t sit here the entire night. It’s starting to get cold.”

You drag yourself up on your feet. Jerry takes your hand and leads you back inside. Warmth hugs you the second you reenter the thin corridor. She takes you back to Silas’s cabin where you find him arguing with his second in command. You catch something along the lines of ‘you hit him so hard he’s lost his mind’ and don’t have to think twice to know who he is talking about. A new punch in the chest. Does everyone view you that way? As a loser who can’t take care of himself after what happened? As a dog?

“Where have you been?” Silas asks angrily. “Wasn’t I very clear what would happen if you tried to leave?”

“I didn’t fucking try to leave!” you burst out, unable to do anything else beside matching his energy. “How could I when the train is moving at two hundred kilometers per hour?!”

“Yeah? What were you doing then?”

How dense is he?

“I tried to get one second to myself to try to think! My life is falling apart and no one is caring! Everyone is just mocking me!” Tears blur your vision. “Why is no one treating me like an actual human being?! No one respects me!”

Your knees give out. The carpeted floor does nothing when you fall. A few seconds pass where you’re left to sob in silence before a pair of arms wrap around you. They’re too muscular to be Jerry’s and the second in command would never touch you. It has to be Silas. 

“Get up, Y/N”, Silas says. “You need to sleep. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

He tells Jerry to get the doctor and she disappears out of the room. Doctor Kry comes in two minutes later. In his hands he holds an identical syringe to the one he injected you with before you got onto the train. Silas holds you down as the sharp needle pricks your arm. You can feel the foreign — yet painfully familiar — substance enters your bloodstream. Damn them, you think before the darkness swallows you, damn all of them.

You wake up with him sitting by the round table. He’s already dressed. You wonder how long that syringe makes you sleep. 

“Good morning”, Silas says. 

“Hi”, you mumble as memories from yesterday wash over you, like an ice cold shower. 

“I thought that you’ll stay here for breakfast. I’ve already ordered room service.”

Your eyes lay upon the silver tray with coffee, toast and waffles on the table, when you sit up. 

“Jerry filled me in about what you talked about”, Silas says. “I don’t want more of that, got it? You don’t get to run around causing havoc like that. You need to tell us instead of getting a melt down. Surprise, we might actually help you.”

You scoff and roll your head against the headboard. “You don't want to help. You just want to hurt me.”

Silas sighs. 

“Is that why I have tattooed my symbol on you?” he asks. “To hurt you?”

You don’t answer. How should you know?

“It never crossed your mind that I tattooed that on you so that you wouldn’t leave?” Silas asks. “Maybe because I want you here?”

“It doesn’t excuse what you have done.”

“Okay, maybe not, but ask yourself something, Y/N: where would you go if not here?”

You try to avoid his dark eyes. They burn right through you, confirming everything you have been thinking. You have nowhere to go, nowhere to stay. Nowhere where you are safe, nowhere where you feel like home. Not anymore. The only thing that kept you in New York was the pride in your job and now, if you go back, the only thing that is associated with that city is shame and hurt. With Silas tattoo on your neck, no one will want to have anything to do with you, for fear of him. 

Silas leaves you be. He doesn’t ask you questions, doesn’t try to get you on better thoughts or distract you. He lets you sit by the table with him, lets you feel your feelings. Lets you try to sort out the fog in your head. 

“How long do we have until we reach Hedwig’s house?” you ask after a while. “I’m getting tired of people.”

“Two days”, Silas answers. “You’ll like it. It’s far away from everyone and everything. You’ll be able to go somewhere quiet, where you can rest for once.”

The thought of resting makes you almost tear up. You can’t recall the last time you actually had a moment of peace. 

“I don’t know what you want, I don’t have anything more to give you”, you mumble. “I don’t have the painting, or the list of names, or any contacts. You can’t trade me for the list, and it’s too late now. They’ve already seen the names.”

“We don’t care about the list anymore”, Silas says. “When are you going to realize that?”

“I don’t know. I can’t seem to … think.”

Silas grabs your neck and pushes your head onto his shoulder. You let him. And there it rests until you’re feeling better. 

You decide to get out of the cabin before it’s going to swallow you whole. You make your way down the carriages until you get to the lounge. People sit chit-chatting in their seats, drinking tea. You wonder how many of them belong to Silas, how many eyes he has on board. You do your best not to stare at any of them. Instead, you walk towards an empty table and sit down by the window, staring out towards the horizon. You’ve never been so … lost before. And yet, you feel better — just a tad bit. One day at a time. Things will be fine. Hopefully. 

“Good afternoon”, you hear a voice. 

You look up to see Edmund carrying a deck of cards. 

“ Have you finished sulking now?” he asks. 

You don’t answer. Not even these kinds of stupid questions deserve stupid answers.

“If you have, why don’t we play a game of cards?” Edmund asks and sits down in front of you. 

“Sure”, you sigh. “What do you want to play?”

“What can you play?”

“A little poker, I suppose.”

“Good. Let’s play.”

Edmund starts to sort the cards. He shuffles them skillfully. 

“What do we play about?” he asks. “What do i get if I win?”

“What do i get if I win?” you conquer. 

A spark ignites in Edmund’s eyes and for once, it gives him a human touch. He leans forward, over the table, and smirks. 

“What do you want, Golden Boy?” he asks. 

You think about it. What do you want? 

“I don’t know”, you reply and when he rolls his eyes, you add: “I actually don’t know. A bit more freedom, maybe.”

“Oh, as in?” Edmund asks. 

“Be able to walk around freely without anyone going insane, like yesterday. I can’t run anywhere on here, now can I? Just being able to go wherever I want on the train whenever I want would be a comfort.”

“Alright, I can work with that. And if I win?”

“What do you want?”

Edmund leans back in his seat and looks out the window, thinking. 

“You need to call me ‘your majesty’ or ‘your royal highness’ from now on”, he says, looking pleased. 

Any traces of humbleness is gone. 

“Haven’t I been humiliated enough?” slips out of you before you have the time to stop yourself. 

Edmund smiles boyishly. “Nope. Not nearly enough.”

There’s a small tug at your heart, and your first instinct is to feel offended … but you can’t help but feel relieved that, while the others are trying to keep you from breaking down, Edmund is still the same. 

You smile slightly. 

“Alright, let’s start”, you say. 

He’s a skillful player with sharp eyes. You wonder who he has trained with. 

“Oh, you’re an idiot, Y/N.”

Doctor Kry stands by the table, watching the table amusedly with his arms crossed over his chest. Edmund grins up at him. 

“Aren’t I smart?” he asks and nods at you. “This dumbass has to call me by my title — as he should have from the start — from now on.”

“The game isn’t over yet”, you remind him.

“Just throw the towel in and die a hero. That way you’ll have some dignity left.”

“No.”

Edmund shrugs. “Alright.”

You’re not sure how, but you manage to beat him. Doctor Kry laughs behind his hand. Edmund glares at him.

“Beginner's luck”, he insists.

“Good job, your majesty, now you've given him free roam over the entire train”, the doctor says.

“Don't get so fucking happy, doc, I can still have you executed”, Edmund warns him with dark eyes. “I don't care if Silas has you under his protection.”

Doctor Kry doesn’t seem affected. “It’s just a day.”

“This motherfucker did quite much in a day last time.”

“I’d like to see our friend Axel Ainsworth trying to do his stunts here.”

You rise from your chair and bid farewell to the two men, happy to show that you are allowed to walk away. Your last day on board won’t be too bad, you reckon. 

You take the time to sort out your thoughts and think. Sitting in the lounge, looking out the window with a glass of whiskey, listening to the sounds of the train moving and the other guests chitchatting. Your head starts to make sense, for the first time in months. Your heart beats in your chest. You hate them, hate what they did to you. How they played you. How they used you for bait. 

“Can I sit down?”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts. Hedwig stands by the armchair in front of you, wearing a sweet pink dress. You nod. She squeals and sits down, looking giddy. 

“Do you want me to get you anything?” she asks. “Maybe something to dilute the whiskey with? Drinking on an empty stomach isn’t good, you know?”

“What do you know about that?” you ask. “Are you a heavy drinker?”

“No, but Edmund is … and I guess that you can imagine how ha is when he is drunk.”

“I’m not drunk … but yes, i can imagine how he would be. He’s not the politest sober either.”

“He’s nice, in his own way.” She shakes her head, as if she’s shaking herself free from thoughts. “How are you feeling? I heard that you had some troubles. Do you want to share them with me?”

“No, I’m okay, I think I got it now. It’s been nice to sit and think … to deal with it myself.”

“What have you come up with?”

“That I don’t want anything to do with those bastards in New York anymore. If I had the list, I’d give it to Silas and Jerry. I wish I had written down the names.”

“You remember some of them, don’t you?”

She picks up a notebook out of her purse and places it on the table. A golden pen is connected to it. 

“Write them down”, she says. 

You stare at the notebook, questioning if you really should give away the little information you know. You would never have done that before. An old saying pops into your head — my enemie’s enemy is my friend. 

You pick up the pen.

[gibsongirlsundaymorning]

noise complaints (part 2)

A/N: Fine you gay people win. Here’s part two… sorry if it’s horrible, I am NOT a writer and I did NOT spellcheck this. Also I now realize she was technically going by Agnes at the time bc she was still under the spell when she was in her cop era… too lazy late to fix it ❤️

Summary: After Agatha finds you and Rio outside of the party she busted surrounded by two guys from your high school, she feels she has a few lessons to teach you two. (Reading part one is highly suggested!)

Warnings: smut, strap-on use, degradation and praise, vouyerism, impact play, fingering, oral, punishment, mean!Agatha, gunplay if you squint and spin three times, orgasm denial, bondage, masturbation, Rio being too bratty for her own good, use of “Y/N”, I don’t know if I can be more specific than this, it’s filth!

Pairing: Older!Cop!Dom!Agatha x Younger!Sub!R x Brat!Sub!Rio

NSFW below the cut MDNI!

After the cruel scolding that was sure to be only the beginning of the harsh words you and Rio would face that night, Agatha drags the two of you back to her patrol car by your wrists. You stumbled over your feet, trying your hardest to keep up with your furious girlfriend; Meanwhile Rio dragged her feet along reluctantly, trying desperately to keep up her careless, tough exterior and get a rise out of the cop.

Rio is thrown into the passenger side of the car, her hair nearly caught in the door as Agatha slams it, leading you towards the back door.

“At least one of my sluts is eager to please… Keep it up and maybe you can get what you want tonight.” She shouts the last part, addressing you, but directing the comment towards your brattier counterpart, who was now fidgeting in the front seat.

Agatha gets in the car, starting it up and taking off on the short ride back to your shared home. Rio’s placement in the front of the car was meant to keep her in check, keep her in Agatha’s direct line of vision and in close reach for reprimand. Rio had different ideas of how to use her forced proximity.

Your older girlfriend’s breathing had just reached some sort of equilibrium, no longer audibly seething through her breaths alone, when Rio reached over the console and slid her hand into Agatha’s lap. Much to your horror, Agatha just laughs.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, doll. You have five seconds to take your hand and keep it to yourself before I decide you’ll be sleeping in the guest room for the next week.” Rio, of course, waits until the very end of those five seconds before dragging her hand back across Agatha’s lap, making sure to brush her covered core ever-so-slightly before bringing it back to her side of the console to pout. You shudder under the reflection of Agatha’s hooded gaze in the rear view mirror as she grinds her teeth down against each other in a fiery frustration.

The silence and tension grows more and more palpable as the drive comes to an end when Agatha throws the cruiser into park at the top of your driveway, right next to Rio’s precious bike. She wasn’t exactly being careful to swerve away from it.

Before you could even think of reaching for your door handle, it was thrown open and you and Rio were being forced into the home. You were at the front, being pushed into the house by Agatha’s right hand, which was tangled in your hair and gripping it into a ponytail. Rio was being dragged in the back by Agatha’s tight grip on her ear. If you didn’t know better, you’d be giggling at the way the slightly taller girl resembled a misbehaving child being scolded by her upset mother. If Rio knew better, she wouldn’t have acted like a misbehaving child.

It was clearly too late for this when Agatha practically tossed you two into the house, all in the same manner as you’d seen her do with her bags after a long day at work. She ran her tongue between her top teeth and her top lip as she looked you and your girlfriend up and down, almost as if deciding between a library of options for how to deal with the two of you.

“Both of you, go to my room now and be ready for me in the next minute… Y/N, pick something pretty out from my drawer, would you, hun?” With that, she had decided.

As you and Rio made your way into your bedroom and Rio made her way to the edge of the bed, you slid the drawer open and instinctively grabbed your favorite from the assortment, a small and quiet but powerful bullet that Agatha could control from her phone. You were hoping she’d use it on you again, but there was no point in asking once she walked in, because it would almost surely earn you the exact opposite.

She walks in to find you sitting on your heels at the same spot at the edge of the bed where Rio sat, manspreading and fidgeting with the seam on her shirt. She takes the small purple toy from your hands and kisses the top of your head, a chillingly gentle gesture in contrast with her bubbling anger that night. Her hand slips from the side of your jaw to the underside of your chin, tilting your head up just a bit so that you were looking up and meeting her eyes with your own. “Such a good choice, sweet girl.”

She then turns to Rio, who hasn’t yet given up her false tough demeanor. “Kiss her. How you were before I walked in early tonight. Pretend I’m not even here, and God help you if you hold back even the slightest bit.” With that, she sat down in the large armchair directly in the eye line from where you sat.

Rio smiles slyly and slides her hands into the back of your head, tangling her digits in your hair as she meets your lips with her own. Your own hands, shaking, find her hips as she deepens the kiss and straddles you as you’re still sitting on your knees with rigid posture that reflects your nervousness outwardly. When you finally melt into her touch the slightest bit, losing yourself in her confident dominance, you hear Agatha stand and are suddenly enveloped in her shadow as Rio is yanking away from you.

Or rather, being yanked away. You note Agatha’s grip around Rio’s waves as she speaks in an even more gravely voice than usual, “That was your final chance to prove yourself as something more than a greedy bitch. Get in the chair.”

She swallows, devoid of any of the dominance from seconds prior, and climbs into the chair Agatha had just risen from. The latter takes Rio’s seat next to you, but lifts you onto her lap with your right leg slotted between her own, your center falling onto the top of her right thigh. Once you could see clearly again as the rush of her rough fingers around your waist simmered the smallest bit, you realized you were sitting on something… hard? and let out an involuntary whisper.

Agatha looks down at where your legs meet and then back at you, grinning like the devil, as Rio writhes in her seat. Agatha immediately clocks the movement from over your shoulder. “If you ever want me to make you come again, you’ll sit still and enjoy the show I’m so generously giving you after your disgusting displays tonight.” Rio reluctantly complies. She returns her attention to you, now digging her fingers into your hips with bruising force, and guides you ever-so-slightly back and forth against the pressure below you. “Agatha?” you breathe out.

“Yeah, angel?” The title almost makes you forget what was supposed to follow your initial words. The hardness below you reminds you quickly. “Are you… did you wear the strap to work?” you nearly whisper, the question barely audible to your other girlfriend, who sat still now and held onto every word from you and the woman below you uttered. “No, baby, try again.”

It seems as if all the blood in your body rushes to your face as you realize that what you were grinding down onto wasn’t the strap you’d been mercilessly filled with time after time, but her patrol weapon. It was mind-blowingly filthy and embarrassing to you, which brought both Agatha and Rio more pleasure than any other act the three of you had carried out together could. “Keep moving those pretty hips, hun. Don’t shy away from being a slut now, it’s a little too late for that.” You bit your lip hard enough to taste the same metallic tang from before you left the same room earlier that night as you hid your blushing face in the crook of the cop’s neck.

“Hey, come back, angel, I’ve got a question for you.” You look up reluctantly, dreading the eye contact you knew she would demand as you spoke. “Yes ma’am.” She chuckled lowly at this, “Oh, what, now you wanna be good for me? Nice try. What I was wondering…. was if you think our greedy girl over there should get to join us.” You look over your shoulder at the desperate woman, your eyes glossing over at the sight of her thighs pressed together so tightly they could surely suffocate you if your head found its way between them as it so often did. You turn back to Agatha and offer only a nod, not trusting your breath to stay loyal to you.

Agatha curled a finger, beckoning your girlfriend over and watching as she scrambled to the bed. “Now, Y/N, do you think I should use this” she held up the toy you’d previously picked out from her collection “on Rio here? Think it’d be fun to see her crumble under the stimulation and forget all about her little stone-cold act?” You nodded quicker than you knew possible. “No, I need words.” You swallow and breathe in shakily, hips still moving on their own accord. “Yes. Please, wanna see.” She just smiles and lifts you off of her leg as she readies her attention on the other girl.

“I think she has to earn it.”

Ok guys this was like… part 1.5, the first half of part 2 of the OG post. The rest of the warnings will apply to the next part if they weren’t in this one, and I’m hoping to have that one out like the middle of next week! LMK what yall wanna see in the next part beside what I have planned :)

Also for those who wanted to be tagged: @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow @wandaslittlelove @babybeeelle @believe-in-magic13 @reeselov3salexvause @ahintofchaos @girlwithissuesworld @lovelyy-moonlight @teenybean @jorddddddddd

[minswriting]

Do I Wanna Know? - Step-Brother Spencer Reid x Reader

About: It’s not easy fucking for your nerdy and hot step-brother when feelings become involved.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, step-cest, step brother spencer, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, guilt, shame, unspoken pining, etc.

Word Count: 1702

“Have you got color in your cheeks?

Do you ever get that fear that you can’t shift

The type that sticks around like summat in your teeth?

Are there some aces up your sleeve?

Have you no idea that you’re in so deep?

I dreamt about you nearly every night this week.”

Your mother married her husband a few months ago. At a time when they had only been together for a few months but they apparently just “knew” it was meant to be. Who were you to judge, really? If you know, you know. You were just glad that your mother was relatively happy. There was also that added bonus of having a very new step-brother.

Spencer Reid, a profiler for the BAU and now your step-brother, was this nerdy guy. He had an eidetic memory, dressed like a grandpa, and was extremely hot for no reason. The day you met him, you were overwhelmed by his attractiveness. And he was so awkward too, adding to the appeal. You don’t see him often strictly due to his work and the fact that he lives in D.C while you live in Las Vegas. But when he does, it’s as though you’re in heaven. And tomorrow, Spencer is flying out to visit.

“How many secrets can you keep?

‘Cause there’s this tune I found

That makes me think of you somehow

And I play it on repeat

Until I fall asleep

Spilling drinks on my settee.”

Spencer: I can’t wait to see you.

You: I can’t wait to have your face buried between my thighs.

Your phone buzzed with another text.

Spencer: That will be divine.

You couldn’t help the smirk that traveled on to your face. You remember the first time you ever initiated anything with Spencer. It was a month after the wedding. He had flown back to Las Vegas for a case he was working on and decided to stay at the house rather than in a hotel with his team members. You noticed the way he had looked at you whenever you guys saw one another. Like you were forbidden fruit. But he was always too awkward, too shy to say anything to you. You guys hardly spoke unless necessary.

That was until you cornered him one night after he had gotten back at three in the morning after his case had been concluded. You remember the words you had spoken to him. “I see the way you look at me,” You had said quietly but seductively. That night you had gotten on your knees and gave him the worlds best blow job imaginable. And ever since then, the two of you had a very secret thing going on.

Late night phone calls, sexy photos, videos of one another sent privately. The past few months had been absolutely blissful. The amount of orgasms that you had every week was astounding and you were absolutely never sick of it. Because you got to hear the hot and sexy sounds that Dr. Spencer Reid, your step-brother, make.

As the months had gone on, these late night phone calls would turn into more than just sex. Talks about your days, life, books you both had been reading, the shows you’ve been watching. What was supposed to be nothing more than physical was slowly becoming emotional. At least for you. These days you often wonder if Spencer felt a similar way. But that didn’t matter as much. You would never allow yourself to cross the emotional territory. Or at least you’d never actively admit it.

“(Do I wanna know?)

If this feeling flows both ways?

(Sad to see you go)

Was sorta hoping that you’d stay.

(Baby, we both know)

That the nights were mainly made

For saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day.”

The day Spencer had arrived, you spent the day teasing him. You wore a red dress that covered just enough to be considered appropriate. But if you bent over in the slightest, which you certainly did, you could see the sexy red lingerie set you wore underneath, Spencer’s absolute favorite on you. He hadn’t had the opportunity to see it in person until now. After your family dinner and your parents had gone to bed, you had dragged Spencer to the bedroom, not even bothering to take your time.

Maybe it’s the way his tongue moves around your cunt, lapping up your juices. Or the way Spencer sucks on your clit, doing whatever he can to bring you the most pleasure. All you know is that you have to try your damn hardest to keep quiet, to make sure neither your mother or his father wake up to hear what their children are up to. Spencer’s face is buried in your pussy, tonguing your hole while his nose runs against your clit. If hell were real, you definitely would be going with how much you enjoy fucking your step-brother. And it would be absolutely worth it if you get to live this lifetime underneath Spencer.

When you finish twice from his tongue, Spencer finally removes his face from your cunt. His face glimmering from your juices as he reaches his hands to undo his shirt. You were already naked, something Spencer had done as soon as you closed the door of the bedroom. As he took off his shirt, Spencer licked his lips, looking at you with a look that you couldn’t quite interpret.

You knew this was wrong. So ridiculously wrong. He was practically family, at least legally. He was supposed to be your brother, someone you can depend on. Well you certainly depend on Spencer for something. And it’s certainly not for anything family friendly either. You’ve tried calling it quits. Three weeks in, you tried leaving it be by not calling Spencer or texting him. You only lasted a day before you started craving him again.

“Crawling back to you

Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few?

‘Cause I always do.

Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new.

Now, I’ve thought it through

Crawling back to you.”

With you laying on your back while Spencer pounds into you like his life depended on it, you were absolutely trying so hard not to moan like the slut you know you are. You had a fist to your mouth while you looked at Spencer, who was leaned over you, arms on either side of your head, while his cock was thrusting in and out of your tight pussy.

“You’re so wet,” Spencer whispered shakily, looking at you in your eyes. “So tight. I could be buried inside you forever.”

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips as you looked back up at Spencer. The look in his eye. the one you can’t quite put a name to, was still there. Lust? Guilt? Love? It couldn’t possibly be the last one.

“Have you got the guts?

Been wondering if your heart’s still open

And if so, I wanna know what time it shuts

Simmer down and pucker up

I’m so sorry to interrupt, it’s just I’m constantly on the cusp

Of trying to kiss you

I don’t know if you feel the same way as I do

But we could be together if you wanted to.”

His lips went to yours, kissing you like you were his last breath and he needed you to hold on for life. His cock plunging into you at a rapid pace. The room was filled with the rhythmic sound of skin slapping skin and the wet sounds of your pussy. Had your mother and his father been awake, they’d certainly question the noises going on.

“(Do I wanna know)

If this feeling flows both ways?

(Sad to see you go)

Was sorta hoping that you'd stay

(Baby, we both know)

That the nights were mainly made

For saying things that you can't say tomorrow day

Crawling back to you (crawling back to you)

Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? (You've had a few?)

'Cause I always do ('cause I always do)

Maybe I'm too (maybe I'm too busy)

Busy being yours (being yours)

To fall for somebody new

Now, I've thought it through

Crawling back to you”

You could feel the heat building in your abdomen as Spencer’s cock hit your g-spot repeatedly. “Oh fuck,” you whisper moaned, breaking off the kiss. “So close, Spence.”

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he whispered back. “Cum for me like a good girl.” He continued his movements, fucking you to completion.

You let out a whine, trying hard to not be loud as your orgasm grew closer. Spencer reached down between the two of you, rubbing your clit. And you gasped loudly, bringing your hand back to your mouth as your walls tightened around Spencer’s cock. Within seconds you were cumming, hard, spilling your juices onto his cock and onto the mattress. Your back arched as you came, your toes curling from the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

Spencer followed you, cumming inside of you with ropes and ropes of his cum, filling you with not a single care in the world. Maybe it was a sick thought on his part. Maybe if he got you pregnant, he could finally claim you as his. Or maybe that was just your fantasy. You were on the pill, it was very unlikely.

Afterwards, it’s the cuddling. The soft words spoken about how beautiful you are and how good you did that make your heart flutter in your chest. The way Spencer looked at you with that same look. And in your heart you absolutely knew what that look was. Love. Adoration. Mesmerized by you. Your step-brother loved you. Just like you loved him.

But you’d never admit it out loud. Neither of you would. Because your circumstances wouldn’t allow for such a thing to happen.

So in the shadows you guys remain, caught in your own little bubble where it’s nothing more than sex. But the calls while he’s away become more frequent, more about missing one another and wanting to hear each other. Many words spoken and yet many remained unspoken. Just as it will remain.

[v-arbellanaris]

hrmrmrm idk that i am actually all that impressed by this incredibly simplistic explanation im getting in veilguard of the archdemons basically just being regular dragons enthralled by the evanuris. like. sorry but isnt that literally what corypheus did with his dragon. im sorry okay, i just...

okay. let me try and explain my issue with it. solas says, in trespasser, the first of my people do not die so easily. and sure, i suppose a dragon is not exactly an easy kill except for the way there's literally dragon hunters in thedas. as the warden, i killed at least three dragons including urthemiel. hawke kills at least one high dragon. as the inquisitor i kill like. eleven. so its a difficult task. but clearly not impossible? and as we see with corypheus - kill the dragon, and the main body becomes completely vulnerable and mortal again. the pride demon in the opening was harder to kill than corypheus was after his dragon died. h*cruxing the dragon is so simple j/kr could've thought of this, and i feel cheated of the like... scale of the magic and power that the evanuris commanded before the veil came up? i dont want to see magic we already thought of, i want to see how a world without the veil allows them to command magic in a completely unimaginable, unfathomable way to the way we currently can conceptualise magic at all in thedas.

i guess you could argue that it's either solas' hubris or the evanuris' pride that they thought no one else would ever figure out the secret to effective immortality but there's apparently at least 200 shards of mythal swimming around out here possessing people and shit. you cant throw a fucking rock in thedas without hitting 3 mythals. that is what i would consider not dying easily. and, if they go down the route i suspect of confirming that the ancient elves are spirits made flesh, i wish there was some kind of reference to the fade forever reflecting the desires and beliefs and dreams of people in the waking world - which is to say that, for example, simply still believing that mythal or elgar'nan or ghilan'nain still exists is enough to bring the shards of their spirit back together again - just like solas' wisdom spirit friend in dai.

my private working theory is that if the evanuris are spirits made flesh, then somehow, the creation of the veil effectively... made them tranquil, in a way. separated their mortal bodies - trapped, as mindless archdemons, slumbering in the deep roads, in the mortal coil - from their spirit selves, locked in the black city behind the veil. this would explain why he needs to move them in the first place, to a more secure prison - corypheus fucking up the veil in 9:41 reconnected the physical bodies of the evanuris to the spiritual selves trapped in the fade. idk i just feel a bit like. not to say caught out, but i feel like a lot of the lore drops are just like "whats popular fanon theory about this. lets just confirm that" and i wish there was just... something more. some attempt at surprising me or aweing me with the lore drops. like it is what you think but there is something else here you didn't think of, or it's more complicated than that - to leave some kind of mystery behind, still. but idk.

[vaya-is-dead]

Welcome to hour one of my delusional city

SO ABOUT JINX.... we have plenty to discuss. :))

*act three arcane spoilers under the cut don't read if you haven't watched it especially the last episode!!*

I have a theory.

Now many of you will point at me and call me delusional but I'm sorry. I think I might be right on this one for a change. (or at least it might be implied.)

OK, if you watch the final episode, you know that jinx made the sacrifice taking Warwick with her while Vi screams for her. This scene absolutely broke my heart and for about a good 15 minutes I thought she was dead.

Until I went back and watched the last couple of scenes.

Something that I found interesting is that Caitlyn was looking at the blueprint of the vent system, more specifically where Jinx made her ultimate sacrifice. We all know that arcane is not a show that would just throw in details all without reason. Everything has a point everything is calculated to either imply something or show something.

Why would Caitlyn be looking at the blueprint and why would the show creators specifically zoom in on certain airways? Well, of course, then none other to imply that Jinx could've escaped through one of these, therefore possibly surviving.

Now with that alone, it probably doesn't mean anything. It is nothing but a skeleton of what possibly could be, it needs flesh and muscle for it to actually be a Working theory.

But then, as I watched the final scene before the credits, tell me why an airship from Piltover airship very similar to the ones that we saw in episode one where powder said that she would be flying one of those one day. Why was it flying away into the distant sky, then followed by the classic Jinx glitches with the words the end?

Tell me why a show that is so focused on each, and every small detail, from micro expression to touches that linger just a second too long for it to be nothing, Even the drawings and graffiti around Zaun. why would a show so focused on those types of details do something like that if Jinx was not alive? It does not make any sense. It would not make any sense for the show.

Need more proof?

if you pay attention when Caitlyn and Vi are talking, specifically towards the end where Vi leans into Caitlyn, the expression on her face is not one of relief, but rather one of knowing something. She was the one looking at the blueprint, and she was the one who noticed the potential escape route that jinx would know better than anyone because it wasn't her sort of Home in the vent system? How could she not know how to escape?

it's also very satisfactory to her character arc, it was only in season two where we started to see her perception of death start to shift, it was only when Isha came into her life that she really started to understand her own mortality and not completely disregard her life like she used. the prison scene with Vi, where she's sort of regresses back to the mentality of everyone around me will get hurt because of me. while in act three she did begin to disregard her life again, I would like to think that her talk with Ekko might've snapped her back into place. So instead of losing jinx's character development in its entirety, she continues on the same path where she was while still keeping her goal of letting VI be happy the same.

Plus the pink streak coming up the side of the hex gate tower, it's similar to the way that Jinx charges at Vi in their fighting scene.

Now, this is the part where you go into the comments and call me delusional and make fun of my theory but thank you for comming to my Ted's talk

[cryptic--writing]

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him. 

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this.  Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home. 

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and  go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then  cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life. 

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer. 

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home. 

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of. 

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked,  still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again. 

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath. 

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.” 

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months. 

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right? 

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

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

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had. 

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do. 

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said. 

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

 Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said. 

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?” 

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,” 

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?” 

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?” 

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

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

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites. 

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up. 

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office. 

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers. 

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late? 

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a  small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin. 

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made. 

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it. 

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor. 

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.

[laswells-ashtray]

Your writings are so good that I’m entrusting you with this simple prompt: Dragon Hybrid Price and (Any Hybrid) Nikolai.

Do what you will dear wizard writer.

For the sheer sake of you never implied how silly I could get with this, I'm sillying it up:

Bear hybrid Nikolai [because it's too fucking good] and dragon hybrid Price standing about one day, the two sergeants and the lieutenant are training together while the older two men watch. They're on someone else's base, a hybrid-less base but they're making do with what the have.

John's leaning back against the wall, wings pressed up against the brick in a way that has to be uncomfortable or at least that's what everyone assumes. He's rubbing at the base of one of his horns as if trying to soothe a headache and he looks quite frankly exhausted when another Captain appraoches.

John decides that in comparison to this man, he looks like Marilyn fucking Monroe.

"Captain Givens, you look about as good as I feel." John is at least trying to keep a good relationship with the other team even if they have a habit of pissing off each of them.

"Too fuckin' right. Just got off the phone with the Missus and had to help her convince my little boy not to shove his Batman figure up his nose. It's exhausting." The man complains, running a hand over his face tiredly.

John makes a sympathetic noise but doesn't hide his amused look. "Oh, I'm all too familiar with that feeling." The other day he'd had to convince a group of rookies that Soap is indeed a liar and that oil paint is in fact not edible just because it has oil in the name.

"You have kids?"

"Yes." John should've been smarter than to think that Nikolai's silence was a good thing, he doesn't get a chance to correct the bear hybrid before the other Captain asks:

"How many?"

"Three." Nikolai tells him while watching the boys train in the distance.

For a brief moment, John wants to tug on one of his fluffy ears and tell him to quit it. On the other hand, fuck it, why not?

"Yeah, three over there are mine. Different mums but I was a bit of a tart back in the day." He's reliant on the fact the human knows nothing about hybrids, specifically dragon hybrids for it to work. It's no secret that dragon hybrids can live a lot longer than the average human if they're careful about it but to those types of hybrids, John is still a toddler, horns still in one piece with wings that are still vibrant and healthy.

He can see the amusement in Nik's big brown eyes, he likes it when John sinks down to his level of teasing humans. The only one exempt was Kate, they respected her too much and she wasn't an idiot, she'd never believe half of the stupid shit they've all told people throughout the years. Besides, Kate is family. She has five hybrids protecting her back and the average CIA agent is still more scared of her.

"Riley, MacTavish and Garrick? They're yours?" The human asks in disbelief. Simon was going to kill him for this later, Kyle and Johnny would inevitably laugh themselves hoarse.

"Aye. Didn't find out about Riley until he was a teenager and his Mum got in contact. Looks fuck all like me but he's certainly mine. Lad certainly wasn't a chipper wee thing but I managed to win him over, SAS was his choice, I just put him on the task force because I owed it to his Mum to keep an eye out." He's talking out of his arse now and he knows it but the captain seems to be hanging on his every word. Nikolai is making the conscious decision to look away from him but he can see the faint shaking of the bastard's shoulders, he's laughing.

"MacTavish was from an eventful night up in Glasgow one evening, we didn't know if he was mine or Nik's until we saw the little blighter's eyes."

Good on Nik for how quickly he sorts himself, turning around and nodding approvingly. "Ah, but young MacTavish has always favoured me. Would've been a good bear cub, very grizzly."

The captain looks over to the three men training with wide eyes, tilting his head as he stares at them all, surveying them before he looks back to John.

"And Garrick is yours too?"

Kyle had been ripping on him for being old earlier so maybe he plays it up just that little bit more.

He nods, looking over at Gaz with the most proud look he can muster, it's real but he can pretend it isn't just for the bit. "He was an angel when he was a tot, good sleeper and learned to talk quick. Was always a little grumpy that he didn't have horns too but he got over it eventually. Got him a blanket with a dragon on it when he was two and he didn't get rid of the thing until he was fifteen. Big Mumma's boy though, spitting image of his mother and more than proud of it."

It almost saddens him that the interaction ends when a sergeant whose name he can't remember calls over the captain about something but the sound of Nik's deep, gruff laughter is anything to soothe his short-lived annoyance.

Truthfully, he forgets about the entire interaction within a few hours until Soap barges into his temporary room on the base with a positively gleeful look.

"Price, I don't know what the fuck you did but Gaz is due to kick yer heed in."

"Excuse me?"

"Givens won't stop asking him about his dragon blankie."

Shit.

"And what's this about you and Nik playing who's the daddy when I was born?"

Shit.

[phan3145]

Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Cursing, Implications, Intensity) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.

***Notes: Sorry I haven’t updated in a hot minute everyone. Life has been kicking my butt as well as my husband’s. We had to prioritize, and then afterward I didn’t feel like writing. Not promising regular updates again, but I am consistently working on this. As always, thank you for your support and kind comments. I love you all.

Chapter 13: Not the First

You

You had gone to bed last night, stomach burning and body restless from the day that had transpired. The only comfort had been that Micheal apparently did not care about Anaya’s scent all over you the way the apes cared about his. He had snuggled in close to you as you laid there, thinking about how you would handle the balancing act between the two- no three, species moving forward. Anaya accepted Micheal, at least he stopped trying to kill him once he knew you cared about him. If Noa knew you cared about Micheal, maybe he would also leave him alone? Maybe, he could understand you caring about another animal? He cared about you, didn’t he? At least a little bit. Certainly enough to come talk to you after a fight.

That had caused you to toss and turn even more, not really knowing why Noa had shown up. Maybe he had still been angry, but seeing the situation with you and Anaya had distracted him enough to let it go temporarily. You could only imagine what you had looked like, the definition of sheer panic coming to mind. Noa had always been attentive to your feelings…he probably did push his anger to the side when he saw you were scared. You believed he did anyway, that was just the way he was. Caring, patient, and understanding to a fault.

That thought only served to remind you that the next morning you needed to face him. You needed to apologize for hitting him, maybe talk about the future between you and the clan. You were obviously putting him in a tight spot with the elders. That’s not even speaking about the rock and hard place you were placing Anaya in by having him keep your secret. The elders expected you to show yourself…you had no idea how you would manage that either. If Soona, Anaya, and Noa were there with you, then you should have no trouble feeling safe, but there was something else that made you shudder at the thought. You had this feeling you would be losing something, this small peace you found with your three ape friends. That small, fragile peace built on mutual respect and trust.

You had scoffed at that. Today was an example of how easily trust could be broken, but also re-built. In all fairness, the apes never really expected much from you. Noa even took great pains to make it clear to you that you could always say no. If they asked you to do something you didn’t want to, they wouldn’t force you…but this Caesar Council was a different animal all together. Anaya wanted you to be a part of it, which meant you would be a part of the clan…even if it was indirectly. Either way, it changed things. Anaya said Noa had created new laws, and this council was one of them. That would need to be something you discussed with Noa down the road…probably not tomorrow.

You had almost rambled yourself to sleep at that point, when your eyes had flown open wide and you realized you never decided when you would meet Noa at the rock. Anaya had simply said he would show him where it was. You had groaned and snuggled in deeper under your blanket, knowing you had an early start the next morning.

So here you were, sunbathing on your chunk of safety in the middle of the creek. You were soaking wet from your swim, making sure to scrub away Micheal’s scent as you made your way to your rock. Thankfully, you had sense enough to wear a dirty top that needed to be washed anyway, as well as your singular pair of shorts your reserved for the extreme heats of summer. This summer had not been too bad so far, but today the garment served a new purpose of keeping your modesty while you swam. You would not be caught naked in front of Noa like you had with Anaya. You knew he hadn’t seen anything of course, but you still were not going to repeat your actions and risk the possibility of Noa seeing you naked.

You rubbed at your eyes, a yawn sneaking up on you as you became more comfortable. You were sure Noa didn’t care about your body anymore than Anaya did, but it was the principle of the matter. Humans and their pride…not that you had much to begin with. Still, you clung to the slivers you did have.

You had just fully settled in, sleep creeping along the edges of your consciousness, the early morning sun warming you perfectly, when you heard the hoots of apes. You stretched, turning your head to glance to your right, but did not see hide nor hair of Noa or Anaya. This confused you at first. Did you imagine the noise? You closed your eyes again, only to have them fly open when you heard it again. This time, it was to your left…on the other side of the creek.

You froze for a moment, daring to turn your head at a snails pace to your left. The noises were clearer now. While you were sure they were chimpanzee hoots, they definitely did not sound like gorilla noises, you were still uneasy. Once your head was fully turned, you were surprised to still hear the noises, but see nothing on the other side of the creek.

You sat up slowly, hesitantly, confusion spiking as you looked left, then right once more. Nothing. You pushed yourself up onto your knees, frantically searching for the source of the sounds. You swiveled around on the dry stone, turning in a full circle as your eyes desperately scanned for something that simply wasn’t there. Were you going crazy? You swore you could hear ape noises. You stopped, closing your eyes and listening more intently.

There!

It was coming from your left, as you originally thought, but no matter how hard you looked, you could not see anyone approaching. The tree line was clear up and down stream. Still, you heard the noises, and the longer you heard them, the more pitiful they sounded. Was someone in pain? Were they hurt? What if they were calling for help? You rose into a standing position, practically on tip-toe, blocking the sun from your eyes with your hands in an attempt to see better.

Finally, you spotted the smallest of movements along the bank. It seemed it was just a baby chimpanzee, crouched down on the edge of the creek among the bushes. You felt your lips turn down into a frown, the scared looking chimp tugging at your heartstrings. How did they get here? Why were they all alone? You opened your mouth to call out to them, but immediately stopped yourself, dropping back down to plaster yourself flat against the rock.

No baby would be left alone like this.

You suddenly felt very exposed, creeping yourself back to the edge of the rock before quietly lowering your body back into the water. You stayed behind the rock, on the opposite side of the chimp, who did not seem to be aware of your presence at all. You peaked around the edge, wanting to keep an eye out, but not wanting to be seen. You couldn’t leave the baby alone, but you were still wary to approach them, lest an angry mother burst through the clearing and see you as a threat.

You waited silently, patiently. After a few more minutes of the chimp hooting and no one coming, you heard the noises change. It sounded like- were they…crying? Could apes cry? You floated there, transfixed by the tiny chimp, who curled its arms around itself and sat there sobbing. You fought the urge to reveal yourself, but in the end your heart overruled your head. The chimp was just a baby, you couldn’t leave them there alone and scared.

You carefully maneuvered around the rock, making your way towards the sobbing baby on the bank. You stopped when you felt muddy earth between your toes, water still up to your chest. You called out softly, so as not to scare them, “Do you need help? Are you lost?”

Your soft and careful voice did nothing to soothe the chimp, who jumped back from the edge and started screeching louder. You winced, muscles tensing and nerves screaming at you to swim away and leave. Something in your brain decided against that though, your hands coming up from the water to quickly sign, Friend. No hurt. Safe. Need help?

The baby went silent before you even signed the question, staring at you as if you suddenly became the most fascinating thing they had ever seen. You watched their eyes dart from your hands, to your eyes, to your body in the water, and back to your hands. You repeated the four phrases, wondering if they understood sign yet or if they were too young. Then, after another moment of intense staring, they raised their hand. It was hesitant, but they signed, Alone. Help. Afraid.

You swallowed, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Another moment of hesitation, then a nod and a signed, Yes.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath. “I’m going to come to you. I’m going to walk up to the bank and sit with you. Alright?”

They nodded again.

You returned the nod, slowly walking up the incline until you made it to the edge. The baby did not seem to realize how big you were, head tilting back as you continued to approach. When they could no longer lean back they scrambled to their feet, crouched on all fours before backing up a few steps. You couldn’t blame them, Micheal was easily twice their size. You ran a hand through your wet hair, body slipping down into a sitting position before you crossed your legs. You didn’t want to frighten them anymore than you already had, so you sat and waited. After a moment or two the chimp made their way to you, knuckles brushing against your exposed thigh. They flinched back immediately, as if you would strike at them like a cobra. You let out a breath, trying to smile as you signed, Friend. Safe. Protect.

The furrowed brows and downturned mouth of the chimp eased into something more neutral, more curious, as they decided to climb into your lap. You fought the intense urge to lock up and stiffen your muscles in preparation for an attack. You tried instead to think of the baby as if they were Micheal. They were more open than him though, pinching and pulling at your wet clothes in fascination. That didn’t hold their attention for long though, as they poked at the meat of your upper arms. That forced a giggle out of you, watching them get closer and continue to poke the exposed flesh.

You bit your lip in concentration then, fighting off more laughter, “Do you know where your parents are?”

The chimp paused only long enough to shake their head.

You blew air out of your mouth then in a slow exhale, “Do you have a name?”

The chimp paused, making a gesture over and over that you did not understand. You shook your head, trying to explain that you did not understand. The chimp pouted, opening up their mouth suddenly in a widely comical elongated fashion. You heard a few intakes of air before they huffed and screeched, “E…E…E.”

The loud noise was shrill against your ears. You winced slightly, holding up the hand they weren’t clutching onto, “Okay, okay, easy there. Don’t strain yourself. You can’t talk yet, that’s okay. E is good enough for me.”

E nodded once, puffing their cheeks, before they continued to poke and jab at your arm. You became increasingly confused, watching them and trying to parcel out the reason. Then, they noticed the fascination in their gaze as they dragged a finger down your arm in a slow push. You saw your skin lighten in color from the pressure before darkening again, and you smiled. The color change was something they had probably never seen in an ape before. You let them play to their hearts content, so focused on them that you had lost track of your surroundings.

Then someone called your name.

You snapped your head up, finding Soona standing a few feet in front of you, an unfamiliar Eagle perched on her arm. You breathed a sigh of relief as she began to screech and hoot in delight, “You…found her.”

“Her?” You parroted.

Soona pointed to chimp in your arms, who seemed happier, but reluctant to leave your side. The Eagle on Soona’s arm was given a signal and quickly flew away as she explained, “Wandered off…have been searching…long time.”

Your brow furrowed at that, “Wandered off? Your village is far from here, how did she get this far by herself?”

Soona shook her head, trudging over towards you and practically falling down next to you. She seemed exhausted. “Not from…village…from group of…younglings…upstream.”

Soona held out a hand, which the smaller ape happily grasped a finger of. When Soona reached for her though, E gave a small shout of protest before moving to the opposite side of your body. Soona looked surprised, the young ape becoming fascinated now with your wet, matted hair. She stood on two legs, leaning against your chest for balance as she pulled and tugged at the strands. You winced slightly, but chuckled good naturedly as you locked eyes with Soona.

She broke eye contact for a moment, gaze turning towards the empty forest off to the side. Before you could ask if something was wrong, her attention was back on you, head tilting slightly as she asked, “You are…better…than yesterday?”

You shrugged a shoulder, catching E starting to braid the pieces of your hair that were almost dry. “I guess. I hope you know that I never meant to offend you, or your clan. I’m sorry if you were expecting me and I never showed. I just wasn’t…prepared to see your village.”

Soona hummed, “Noa…should have told you…should have told us…sooner…I am…sorry…that apes have not…always been kind…to you.”

E tilted her head up then, her question obvious though she could not voice it. You shook your head, “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. It wasn’t you who was un-kind to me. You, Anaya, and Noa have been nothing but kind to me…for the most part.”

“You are…still angry…with Noa?” Soona asked carefully.

You puffed out a long breath, thinking, snickering as E did her best to mimic your noise. You pulled more hair from your back to your front, noticing she enjoyed braiding. You hoped it would keep her distracted from the conversation, “Can anyone truly stay mad at Noa?”

Soona seemed to brighten at this, but chose to remain silent as you continued, “I understand why he did what he did. I don’t like it, but I understand it. The real problem that day…well…it’s just…. I know there are barriers between our species. It’s more than just speech, and I…I mean, these problems probably have carried over from hundreds of years of differences. You three have been great, but the part that upsets me is that Noa seems to choose to ignore the fact that apes and humans don’t normally co-exist peacefully. We do, but I’ve also experienced the other end of the spectrum between our species. And Noa just…”

Soona hummed, “Think he…does not see…the differences…in you…but you cannot help…but see them…in us.”

You hesitated, but ultimately nodded in agreement. “I don’t hold being apes against you or your clan, I just…wish he understood what it feels like. To not know if you can trust the person- ape, next to you. To not know if they are going to turn on you, betray you, or even hurt you.”

E, who you assumed had been distracted by her task, stopped immediately. She looked up at you then, a soft coo leaving her as she patted your shoulder. You snorted, using a single finger to mirror her actions. She hooted in clear amusement, leaning her head into your shoulder, rubbing her face against you before sliding down into your lap. She seemed tired now, curling into your side and closing her eyes. You felt a smile slowly creep onto your face, carefully using two fingers to stroke the top of the chimp’s head. She snuggled in closer then, gripping tightly onto your shirt as tears threatened your vision and you thought your heart was actually going to explode.

Get a grip.

Your hormones must be crazy right now. At least, that’s what you told yourself, as you brushed a hand along the loose braids along your shoulder. Soona, as she tends to do, had remained quiet during this exchange. She studied you, noticing how emotional you had become, scenting the air quietly before admitting, “Noa does know…what it is like…to be betrayed.”

This surprised you, your attention quickly brought back to the present conversation. Your eyebrows rose, curiosity peaked as you asked, “By a fellow ape?”

Soona shook her head, causing confusion to drown your mind until she spoke, “By a…Echo…you are not the first…that could speak…that Noa has met.”

You felt your jaw go slack, trying to contain your excitement as you asked, “There are other humans around who can speak?”

“There was one,” Soona answered, lips pursed as she noted your disappointment. “We do not know…where she went…left five seasons ago…have not seen her since…her name was…Mae.”

You nodded, urging Soona to continue, “What happened with Mae? You said she…betrayed Noa? How?”

Soona sighed, “We do not…normally speak of her…she was a source…of much pain and…confusion for Noa…think…you should know.”

You waited, allowing Soona to collect her thoughts. “There was ape…Proximus…he was king of apes…he searched for Mae…killed other humans that…were with her…wanted to get inside…a human vault…it held great weapons…that would make Proximus…more powerful.”

A shiver ran down your spine, remembering the ape Sylva that Anaya had spoken of. He never mentioned this Proximus ape though. Wanting a better idea of the situation you asked, “Who was Sylva to Proximus?”

Soona seemed completely surprised you knew that name, but nevertheless answered, “Sylva was…his General…not sure if that is an ape word…or a human word.”

You swallowed, “It’s human…Proximus seems to have already been an advanced ape.”

Soona curled more into herself then, “He was….we all were afraid…if not for Noa…and Mae…Eagle Clan would not…be here.”

“Proximus ordered your clan to be stolen, and Sylva carried out his orders.” You connected the dots then, “What happened to Proximus?”

“Noa stopped him,” Soona answered without hesitation.

This surprised you. You were aware that Noa killed Sylva, but Proximus as well? Noa did not seem like he was violent, or capable of such great strengths. You assumed he had killed Sylva, a gorilla, by outsmarting him…but Proximus? How? Was Noa secretly more dangerous than you gave him credit for?

Soona grunted then, pulling you out of your thoughts, “Noa says…Mae hid from Proximus…in our village…Noa accidentally…lead them to us…the entire clan was taken…Noa tracked us…for many days…Mae followed…Noa did not know she could speak…until she called his name…Sylva was close…she was scared…she chose Noa as…lesser of the two apes…to fear.”

“So, she lied.” You offered, “Noa was betrayed by her traveling with him but he didn’t know she could speak, or that Proximus was hunting her.”

Soona nodded, “More than that…when Noa and Mae…were taken to Proximus…he learned she shared…the same goal…as Proximus…she wanted to…get inside…get a book…that could help humans…learn to speak…again.”

“That…” you hesitated. You wondered how much to say. A book could not bring back human’s ability to speak. You either were immune or you were not…unless there was a record of some sort. Maybe a cure…a vaccine? Had humans halfway across the world developed their salvation but been unable to share it with anyone outside the vault?

You remembered your vault constantly sending out a signal using the available satellites orbiting Earth, but they never received a response. So much had been lost to time…and if there had been a cure all along? You swallowed the bile in your throat at the thought of how many millions died over time who couldn’t even speak.

You shook your head, “That sounds incredible. Did she find what she was looking for?”

Soona nodded, “Noa helped…we helped her…but she…did not help the clan.”

You tilted your head, “What do you mean?”

Soona huffed, clearly agitated, “The reason…we do not…speak of her…she flooded Proximus’ kingdom…killed many apes…in the process…then ran away.”

“I’m sorry…” It was the only thing you could think to say as silence engulfed the both of you.

“Noa…” Soona began, attention once again towards the forest at your backs. You waited, brows raised as Soona turned back to you. “Noa was…different…after meeting Mae…is different…with you…now.”

Something about that sentence sent chills down your spine. There was many implications, and you chose to ask the most obvious of them, “Does Noa think I’ll turn out to be like Mae? That I’ll betray him? Hurt him or the clan? Is that why he’s always watching me, always careful around me?”

Soona shook her head, “Noa knows…you are not like Mae…you are…what he wished…Mae was…wants to make sure…he does not become….like Mae…to you.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, “I…I threw a rock at him yesterday. I made a mistake…I already hurt him. He shouldn’t think that I’m not like her…I could be. I’m human after all.”

“Human…” Soona began, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “Does not mean bad…ape…does not mean good…Noa says…wants others to learn…we are better…stronger…good and bad…together…more alike…than either side…wants to speak of.”

Still cradling the sleeping E in your lap, you leaned your body into Soona’s, head coming to rest between her neck and her shoulder. Her hand slid from your shoulder to the back of your head, leaning in to return your half-hug as well. She patted your head a few times as you sighed, “Thank you, Soona.”

There was silence, peaceful this time. E breathed heavily in your lap from sleep, and the creek next to you trickled soothingly while the sun climbed higher in the sky. You took a deep breath, feeling more prepared to speak to Noa than you had been before. There was a distinct crack sound behind you, causing both you and Soona to turn.

You saw some leaves fall from a tree not to far back, but couldn’t make out anything more than that. You thought you saw movement for a moment, shielding your eyes with your hand once more, when Soona’s Eagle tore through the canopy and landed next to her on the ground. She stood too quickly then for your liking, looking upstream before turning back to you.

Her eyes were pleading, almost desperate as she said, “Do not…be scared…do not run.”

You were confused, until you heard the litter patter of many feet moving towards you. You leaned your body to see past Soona, body tensing and breath freezing at what you saw. Many apes, children from the looks of it, were running down stream towards the both of you. You suddenly did not want to be on the ground.

You carefully scooped E from your lap, holding her close to your chest as you practically leapt to your feet. Whether from being moved or the sudden frantic beat of your heart, E woke with a start. She began to hoot and squirm in your arms. You clutched her tighter to you, feeling your breathing become labored, taking a step or two back in fear. You didn’t get much further, Soona’s arm coming up to hold your arm.

You jerked towards her with frantic eyes. Hers were still calm, concerned as she tried to comfort you. “I am…here…trust.”

As the apes came closer, you swallowed hard, nodding a few times before taking a step closer, behind her. She hummed, screeching at the apes a few moments later. They came skidding to a stop in front of you, all of them transfixed, as if they had never seen a human before. You reasoned, that perhaps they hadn’t. You tried to take deep, discreet breaths to calm your nerves. None of them were taller than your waist, but the thought of so many surrounding you still made you nervous.

Suddenly, the biggest of the bunch stepped forward, sniffing at your feet for a moment before glancing up to meet your gaze. His held tilted in confusion as he demanded in a voice that sounded much younger than he looked, “Why does Eden…get to be carried…by the Echo?”

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 102)

Welding while three days overdue in a pregnancy is hard Uzi realized.

The inside of the shuttle was warm enough that the wind and weather outside wasn't something to worry about, but the amount of strain the baby was putting on her internals was slowing her down heavily.

Even still… it was almost finished.

All that was left was the internals, the controls and the little bit of air they needed to cool their systems. And it would be ready.

And so right now she was putting in the cramped recharge pods that would be the bulk of the inside, small little upright beds that filled the function of a place to rest and…not much else.

When space is at a premium, it would have to do.

Khan was working on the airlock, big, steel hydrologic doors. His expertise. So they were nearly working side by side.

Uzi stretched upwards to reach the ceiling from the step ladder she was using,sealing up a messily managed cluster of wires within a tube of aluminum. And then doubled over in pain.

She made a wince and a squeak and held her expanded abdomen as a wave of pain shot through her.

Khan was on her in an instant, taking one of her hands in his own and helping her off the stepladder.

“Uzi! Are you alright? Is the baby-”

“N-no! No. Just uh… just them kicking me in the stomach. Ow…” She calmed him. “I almost wish…”

Khan still held her and made her sit in one of the incomplete charge pods, checking her over.

“I'm fine. Dad.” She almost laughed, but it turned into another wince as the baby proceeded to kick the shit out of her insides once more.

“Agh…”

“Maybe you should sit the rest of the construction out dronelette… you need rest.”

“What I need is to get this done. This was my plan and it needs to work and-” She struggles to get out of the pod, legs kicking our uselessly.

“And you have been every single day you have been able. It's just finishing touches, then we start packing what we can.”

Uzi crossed her arms in a huff.

“I don't wanna be useless.”

“No offense dronelette, but I think your body has more say about that then your mouth.” He smiles sheepishly, gesturing to the fact she couldn't even get out of a shallow pod by herself.

“Bite me.”

He laughed and helped her out of the pod, not letting go until both her feet were on the ground and she was steady on them.

“Where's N? Still on patrol?” He asks, hand still on her back.

“Yeah, he'll be out for awhile…”

“I gotcha.” He peered out the door, flagging down somebody.

“Nico! Can I borrow you for a minute?” He shouted, at the purple eyelighted door gaurd, who was deep in conversation with his partner.

“Aye sir!” He rushed over with a lopsided grin. Goggles bouncing on his head.

“Can you lead my daughter back to her apartment for me?” Khan asks, smiling happily at the young man.

“Dad! I can walk on my own!” Uzi protested, but it went in one ear and out the other.

“Sí Mr. Doorman.” Nico replied, getting into place at Uzi's side despite her indignant grumbles.

“Thank you, Varga.” Khan grinned, before heading back inside the ship. Nico and Uzi look at each other.

“After you senora?”

“I'm not that much older then you…” Uzi smirked, raising her eyebrow. And Nico just laughed.

“Hehe… I'm just being polite.” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “You snapped at me for my manners once.”

“Huh?” Uzi wracked her brain. “Oh! Were you the same guy who was staring at Tera when she was a pillbaby?”

They began to walk, passing through the doors of the bunker.

“Guilty. Forgive me? Por favor? I was just surprised… you never struck me as someone who wanted kids, at least… at the time.” He grinned.

“I think I was just in a bad mood that day. I was getting lots of stares.” Uzi admitted, feeling a little self conscious.

“Lo siento, aren't you always in a bad mood?”

“Hey!” She snarled as they passed by several residential doors, before she deflated and smiled. “I guess you're not wrong.”

He laughed again. It sounded… familiar somehow.

“If dad's gonna have you tail me, I need to pick up my daughter from a freinds house before I head home.” She spoke, and at her words, his smile seemed to get a little pained.

“Of course. It's Tera right?” He asked, cocking his head. “How… is she?”

“Tera? You mean other then destroying everything soft she can get her fangs on? She's great, she's so energetic, she's a little hard to keep track of.”

He smiles, then looks confused. “Fangs?”

Uzi looks guilty, looking away from him.

“That's… my fault. My oil is… uh, effected by a condition…” She shows him a flash of her own fangs. “And I didn't realize it was contagious that way until it was too late.’

Nico furrows his brow, Uzi mistakes his concern for judgement. “It doesn't seem to effect her negatively! She's happy and healthy, it's just… she'll look different, is all.”

Nico nods once. “I wasn't judging.”

“So long as she is happy, I don't think anyone will judge. You took her in when… no one else wanted to, or could.”

“If no one has thanked you yet. Let me be the first.” He smiles, for once it seems to go up to his visor. “Gracias, Miss Doorman.”

“Uh… you're welcome?” She returns a confused smile as they stop in front of a door that reads “von Roth”.

Nico nods again before coughing and pulling out a little military canteen, taking a swig of it.

Uzi looks at him curiously.

“Ah, software issue… I go through coolant like my abuelo did battery acid! Hehe.”

Uzi nods, satisfied with his answer before knocking on the door with three quick raps.

A drone with light blue eyelights answers the door with a beaming smile. “Oh! Mrs Doorman! You're here to pick up Tera yes?” His accent is slightly Italian, and he smells slightly of fermented oil.

“That's right.”

“I'm Jason! Nice to meet ya!” He shakes her hand firmly. “My Flower’s getting her now. What a good kid you have, treats my daughter like a princess!”

“Uh, thank you Jason.” Uzi says awkwardly.

Delilah pops her head put under his arm, and he chuckles before moving out of the way for her.

“Hi Uzi! Here she is!”

Tera is handed to her… with a big fat purple bow tied up in her hair and forced into a little grey dress.

She looks defeated. Looking up at her mother with eyes that pray ‘please help me.’

“Oh God! What happened to you!?” Uzi smiled, incredibly amused at Tera's deadpan expression.

“Dress up.” Tera answers, as Delilah squeals.

“Look how adorable she looks! Though it was a lot of effort to get her in that dress…” She shows off the tiny scratches on her hands.

considering that Tera resisted being dressed in anything. The fact the Delilah was not in worse shape was astonishing.

“I'd say… Thank you for watching her.”

“Oh, no problem! She's a sweetheart, any time you need!” Delilah answers, before her husband pulls her into a little head nuzzle.

“Absolutely! Kiara needs more freinds like her!” He waves as Nico and Uzi move off, Tera crossing her arms in indignation.

“Not a fan of the dress chica?” Nico asks with an amused look.

“No.” Tera answers, shaking her head and pouting in her mother's arms. It's not until she does the toddler equivalent of a double take that she notices him and stares, cocking her head.

“Heh, Heya kiddo.” He smiles, face soft. Uzi raises a brow.

“Hi! Like you!” She says immediately, beginning to vibrate. “Name?”

“Ah. Nico.” He replies.

“Hi Nico!” She replies back, grinning visor seam to visor seam. Forgetting for a moment all about her distaste for the dress she was in.

But… too quickly, Uzi was at her door, and it was time to say goodbye.

“Thanks for walking with me. It was nice, even if my dad made you.”

“Don't mention it. You both take care, sí?” He cocked his head.

“Bye Nico!” Tera hollered, waving with all her might. And then; “Adiós!”

Uzi blinked. “Where did you learn-”

Nico was gone very, very quickly.

Who knew languages were inheritable?

[lutiaskokopelli]

I have an issue with constantly getting distracted, so I got distracted from working by making a 100% customizable Pomodoro App to keep my future self from getting distracted. Have a Google Drive download link.

The Pomodoro technique, if you don't know it, is a discipline method for keeping track of when you are working and when you are taking breaks, notably through the use of a timer.

There are tons of apps centered around this, and yet after looking at so many of them, I somehow could not find one that would do the most basic thing I'd like to have for a study companion: change the background of the app so that yes, I do have a timer telling me to work harder, but I also have an image of my choice to cheer me up along with it.

So what did I do? Did I take the rational, reasonable path, to just suck it up and stick to one of the already existing apps even though it would mean saying no to having my adorable Hearthian OC sleep in a corner of my screen?

Or did I go the hyperfocused insane route of utter procrastination and learn a whole new programmation language from scratch just in order to get my frikkin baby to comfort me while I work?

Yeah, who could have guessed.

So! The Google Drive link I shared will let you download everything you need in order to run your own version of this little app, including a tutorial on how to customize it to suit your needs.

The first thing you will see after unzipping the archive is this:

The "ast" folder (standing for "assets") contains every image used by the app -- which means that you can change them as you please! I even gave you transparent versions of the buttons in the "Asset Creation Help" subfolder, in case you like the shapes but want to change the backgrounds.

You think that's cool? Oh, but the image assets are far from being the only thing you can change for this app's behavior! You can change EVERYTHING that this app is doing (which isn't much because it's literally just three different types of timers, and even then there are some trickier details with more coding than others (but I still give tips on how to handle those), but shush. Everything this app can do, you can customize to your heart's content).

How do you do that? Well, this is what you get when you right-click on the "Pomodoro.ps1" file:

The Pomodoro.ps1 file is the "app" itself, written in PowerShell code that I made as legible as I could make it. There is a whole tutorial in there, made easier to read if you right-click on this file's icon and choose the "Edit" option. Have a preview!

Through editing this file, you can then run a Pomodoro app from which you can have the window's appearance customized, from its size, opacity (if you want to still half-see what's sitting behind it), and start position on your screen (the window can be dragged around, but if you have a preferred position you can tell the app to always load it in that preferred spot right from the get go), to stuff like the custom messages you get whenever the timer progresses:

So, yeah. I made a little app meant to help with productivity. One out of many already out there, sure, and it's probably not as cool as many others (but I'll just remind you that three days ago I knew absolutely nothing about PowerShell as a whole, so- I guess that would be still a little impressive that I was able to make a working app like that at all? xD), but as far as I've looked, it's the only one that will let you have your favorite images keep you company while you use it.

I don't know whether anyone other than me will like it enough to use it, but just in case, it's here! Hope it's as easy(-ish) to customize as I made it out to be, or at least close enough.

PS: The version I use for my own personal choices uses some slightly different assets compared to the version I share in the .zip file on my Google Drive. This is because the version I share online solely uses official Outer Wilds art (while the version I made for myself notably uses one piece of OW fanart that I did not make myself, and it didn't sit right with me to share that piece uncredited, even in an edited form. If you are curious, this is the artwork in question).

[grogumaximus]

Jos, do you agree that this was one of the most difficult seasons for Max?

"It certainly was, because of the performance of the car. He was already saying at the beginning of the championship that there were problems, but in the team they laughed, because he was winning. However, when the others grew up, it became clear that Max was right."

What didn't work?

"The wrong directions were taken in the development of the car. The balance between the front and the rear has never been ideal and on top of that the car breaks down on the bumps."

How did Max react?

"He worked hard to get the most out of it, despite the frustration of not being able to compete against the McLarens, who have long been the best on the track. He went to the factory more often, for simulator tests, and tried to help the engineers."

How did you handle the pressure around the team after the Horner case?

"In these moments, he manages to isolate himself from everything. He has the maturity and experience to face any situation. At home he has always been relaxed. Perhaps the most tense moment was in Mexico, due to the negativity spread by the English press (after the double penalty for the fierce duel with Lando Norris, ed. ). But all this is an extra motivation for Max. Nothing worries or scares him".

He was also at the center of controversy for certain statements…

"He won't change. That's just how he is, he always says what he thinks."

Who was closest to him?

"Me, our manager Raymond (Vermeulen), his engineer Giampiero Lambiase and of course Helmut Marko."

What was the best moment of 2024?

"The win in Brazil in the wet, coming back from seventeenth place. He managed to come back very quickly, took the lead and won by 20 seconds, without making any mistakes. It reminded me of his race in 2016, also in Interlagos, with the outside pass on Rosberg in the “Senna Esses”. It was incredible then too."

Starting this year, Max is traveling to European races with his motorhome. How did this idea come about?

"It's something he likes, because this way he has his own traveling home, he always sleeps in the same bed and enjoys more privacy, surrounding himself only with people he trusts. And then he had a simulator placed in the motorhome so he can train whenever he wants. It's a hobby of his, sometimes he stays there until three in the morning, but then he rests at least seven hours. I leave him alone and go to the hotel."

What moments do you share?

"At the races we eat together and talk about everything that happens. I can tell him anything frankly. Our relationship was built like this from the beginning and I only want the best for him. The difference is that now I don't get angry, because Max is a man and can do what he wants with his life and his choices, while as a child he needed a few scoldings".

What do you remember about those years and the holidays with Michael Schumacher?

"We were with the family. Our sons, Max and Mick, were having fun together, even though they spoke different languages, and Michael was playing with them in the pool."

Why did Max say he no longer wants to train on karts like other F1 drivers?

"He raced a lot in karts, maybe too much, sometimes we even did mini races in three with his mother (the champion Sophie Kumpen; ed. ). He also explained to me that, if you drive them only a few days a year, you end up with bumps and pains all over your body. He prefers GT cars. But he continues to follow the boys".

The Verstappen.com Racing brand is linked to a team that uses the Ferrari 296 GT3. Whose choice is it?

"About Max, he likes Ferrari...".

In the meantime, Mercedes was looking for him.

"Normal, they want the fastest driver."

How long will he race in F1?

"We have a contract with Red Bull until 2028 and we will get there, then we will see. We will have to understand if Max will still be interested in F1. All his life he has been told what he had to do, even by me, and now it is happening with the team. The time will come when he will want to decide".

Has he already given you a preview?

"There is certainly much more to his life than F1, and Max is aware of that. He listens to his feelings a lot, he knows what he wants. But it's difficult to say what will happen. Maybe, in the future, he will stop for a year and then he will want to come back. Of course, it's not the records that motivate him. He doesn't need to win seven or eight world championships, he is already happy with what he has achieved."

What do you remember about Max's first victory?

"It was the first race with Red Bull, even today I get goosebumps when I watch the commentary in Dutch. At the beginning we only dreamed of getting to F.1, then that success came and years later the world title, everything came true very quickly".

Who will be Max's rival in 2025?

"Many say Hamilton is too old, but he is a driver who knows how to fight hard. Norris is fast, even if he still lacks experience. It will depend on who has the best car. Ferrari got lost this year, after a good start, but they reacted. Vasseur is doing a great job, he is a racing man who knows how to sniff out situations, I like him".

[calinaannehart]

time is shortening (down to the bone)

Chapter 2

“Okay, Bobby should be here any minute, he’s going to take you to chemo, but then he’s got that meeting with the chief so Hen is going to pick you up and bring you home. Then she and Karen have got a playdate with Mara’s brother so Chim’s going to come over after he’s dropped Jee off at the Lee’s. I think he’s got this plan for, like, a movie marathon or something, so save your energy for that, and then Eddie will take over from him and do your physio with you. Now, I’ve told him that you’re leg has been pretty bad the past few days so don’t try and just suffer through it, you hear me? And then Eddie will stay with you until I get off my shift, I should be back about eight, but that will all depend on how the traffic is at—what?”

Tommy’s looking up at him from his spot on the couch, heated blanket draped over his legs, and his head is cocked to one side matching the fond, yet slightly exasperated, smile that he’s directing at Buck.

“You know you wrote this all on the calendar already, right?” Tommy says, throwing a thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen. “I haven’t lost my memory yet.” His eyes scrunch as his smile turns teasing.

Despite everything he’s going through Tommy hasn’t lost that dry sense of humor that had caught Buck’s attention. Right from that first meeting, when Chim had driven them to the harbor station after calling Tommy for help finding the cruise ship, there had been something special about Tommy. Buck just hadn’t been able to work out what it was straight away.

The man had swanned out of the hanger clad in a blue jumpsuit that should have been unflattering, but somehow looked like he’d swiped it right from a fashion catwalk, and greeted Chim with an embrace that dwarfed the small man. Tommy had shaken Buck’s and Eddie’s hands in turn and asked them what their plan was. He hadn’t even taken a second to consider another option when Chimney had asked if he could get them a helicopter.

“For Captain Nash, anything,” Tommy had said solemnly, leaving Buck wondering what the story was behind the vow, and had bustled them toward a bright yellow helicopter with an instruction to stay out of sight until Hen arrived.

It hadn’t been until they’d safely landed on the rescue ship, grabbing a much-needed warm drink after watching Bobby and Athena reunite, that Buck realized he’d introduced himself as Evan rather than by his chosen name. Tommy had stood next to him, full of jokes about how no one would fire them now that they were officially heroes, and had asked Buck if that was how life was now at the 118. He hadn’t registered at first that Tommy was talking to him as he was so used to hearing the name Evan directed at him. But strangely, he hadn’t minded in the least.

Maybe that should have been his first hint at just how much the man was about to turn Buck’s whole life around.

“I know, I just…it’s a lot of moving parts, you know?” Buck shrugs as he stuffs a clean LAFD tee into his duffle bag.

It had hurt so much seeing Tommy suffering so much. It had been three days before the vomiting had let up enough for him to be able to keep down more than a few sips of water and a handful of saltine crackers. Buck had stayed for the duration of it, calling out sick claiming a stomach flu, and turning down all offers from the 118 to stop by and check on him and find him not at home. He’d confessed the truth when he’d returned for their next block of shifts, having gotten Tommy’s permission to share the news of his diagnosis, and just as Buck had predicted everyone had been shocked but had also offered to do whatever they could to help.

Getting Tommy to accept that help from someone other than Buck, however, had been more of a battle. When Buck had taken vacation days for the second cycle Tommy had been agitated, insisting Buck didn’t need to babysit him, that he could just check on Tommy after his shift. It had been hard not to let his frustration show when he’d reminded the man how he’d had to clean up the vomit before it stained the rug, how he’d washed weeks’ worth of dishes and done multiple loads of laundry, how he’d had to help Tommy in and out of the bathtub because he hadn’t had enough energy to stand, let alone wash himself.

“I’m not judging you for it,” Buck had insisted, softening his voice when he’d spotted the embarrassment on Tommy’s face. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. Watching you suffer is one thing, but actually going through it? I wouldn’t cope any better. Just accept the help, Tommy. Even if you say no I’m going to be here anyway, all of us are.”

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[k0mmari]

Okay people, I need to talk about IDOL!Shen Yuan AU before I explode (aka slight Aggretsuko inspired office au…..)

I’ll try to make this short for once jdvfhbjdhbvdf, but basically SY has been (forcefully) made to work for his brother(SJ) in the family company, after SJ decided enough was enough, and SY was going to do something with his life besides rotting away in his bed whether he liked it or not. The thing is, he wasn’t (just) rotting in bed reading atrocious novels, but he also took some time to experiment with music as a hobby, and over time, he grew a small following.

Though, after he was dragged to work at SJ’s side, the ever boring of dealing with paperwork and staring at white walls was eating at him. It’s not like he struggled doing his job, in fact, he was quite good at it, but he wasted no effort to make it very clear that he did not like that he was there in the first place. So, in an act of rebellion and to just do SOMETHING other than feel every passing second of the day in a cubicle, he decided to work even harder in his music hobby. It eventually led to SJ finding out and sparing no words to say that SY needed to focus on his real job, which only made SY brat out even harder, even managing to find an alternative music club and booking a few performances.

It went great! More people showed up than he expected, and all went great, but since his health was still not the best, after that he basically spent a whole month crashed out, not being able to do any more performances and barely able to go to the office once a week.

Anyways, it all led to SY thinking he had proved SJ right that he couldn’t continue this life style, and even thinking about quitting it, but one day while he was scrolling on the comments on one of his MVs (aka a Fancy Lyric Video), one of the comments mentioned that SY was one of the most important influences for that person, and that it inspired them to start pursuing music. It was the first time he had received a comment of that nature, and it lit the fire of his motivation back up.

Some 2 years passed, SJ still kept SY at the office, but SY had reached a nice balance on his online music work and performances on that club, and as his popularity grew, his performances at that one club had almost turned into a whole event for his most dedicated fans. So, enter Luo Binghe:

He was that comment that SY had read, and he did want to try music after being a fan of SY’s for almost three years now, but due to his financial situation he desperately needed some other source of income first. Now, at his last year of college, he managed to get an internship onto the Shen family’s company, which was a huge step forward towards his dreams, unfortunately he just had to go under SJ, which as we all know, was never kind to Binghe, instead acting as if the boy should just give up the internship entirely. And Binghe did think about it, but it seemed as if the stars had aligned for Binghe at least once, and SJ, after getting a sudden influx of work, delegated Binghe to SY.

They got on quite well, and Binghe even grew to have a little crush on SY, but it was all going fine and great until one fateful day. The office was as boring as ever, and after SY let Binghe know they wouldn’t have to entertain any clients for the day, Binghe decided to work on his part while listening to some music of his favorite artist.

Binghe has an awful habit of listening to music worryingly loud, so when SY went to get him to explain his new task, he ended up listening to what Binghe was hearing: his own music, in fact, his newest song. He pondered telling Binghe about the coincidence, but decided that maybe would be overstepping some professional boundary, and instead told Binghe about his one music club SY had heard about…

Binghe, excited to get to know more places around the area (and maybe understanding what SY did in his free time), decided to go to the club the next week after work, and did not even think about checking who would be performing in the day he would visit. Imagine his surprise when he gets to the door of the music club and hears some awfully famíliar music, and after rushing to be as close to the stage as possible, besides being blinded by his favorite artist’s greatness, also noticed that, hey, the artist looked an awful lot like a certain coworker of his….

Anyways, shenanigans ensue, Binghe starts his own investigation on SY possibly being the artist, SY juggling his office life, music career, and SJ perhaps coming to accept his brother’s career, and even maybe revealing a bit about his own past with music performances.

That’s all I had for today, just wanted to release this into the world! If anyone wants to expand on this, or try their on take on it, feel more than free to! Here are some more doodles of the usual day at the office :)

[coolunspokenforname]

First Superhero AU I've had since... Never Mind All That

In a universe where some people develop powers at 18, but can be detected as early as infanthood, every set of twins in the Pines family have become the greatest superheroes or villains in their age. With this knowledge, the Superhero Training Department (STD; unintentional by them, 100% intentional by me) has taken in these children to train and raise into the perfect soldiers.

Mabel Pines

The eldest Pines twin in this generation, but still not even 13, so her powers haven't developed yet. She and her brother were brought in at three, and have been trained separately, though they were allowed time together, and formed a close bond. Neither knows why they are always separated, or why some of the older staff look at them with great suspicion. Mabel usually gets the brunt of this suspicion, especially when she does something the staff disapproves of. She also notices that her punishments are far harsher than those given to the other kids, though she never tells Dipper about it.

Mason 'Dipper' Pines

If Mabel is treated like a troublemaker, Dipper is treated like he can do no wrong. He is always given special treatment, extra lessons, though this means there is more expected of him than everyone else in the program. It's frustrating, of course, but what he absolutely hates is how he sees the staff treat Mabel, despite her attempts to hide it. He knows something is up, but he just can't figure out what. He knows that if he gets out he could find out the missing pieces, so he focuses on getting an early apprenticeship, and hoping to take Mabel with him.

Until things change

One day, Dipper and Mabel find a way to escape. It's hard, and they need to figure out how to work together on the fly, but they get out and make it to a nearby city. Then comes the next problem: how are two almost-teenagers going to survive on their own, with absolutely no normal social skills to go off of?

For a couple weeks they wander from place to place, trying to figure out how to survive, running from the staff, and even heroes occasionally. It goes relatively well, at least they aren't captured, until they're cornered by a group of government agents. They think it's over for them, that their escape would lead to them being killed or, worse, never seeing each other again. That is, until someone comes to their rescue.

Stanley Pines

Also raised in the Superhero Training Facility, he escaped at seventeen, and since has been on the run; first as an escapee, and for the last thirty years as one of the most wanted supervillains in the world. He had heard of the twin's escape and had come to help them, knowing how it was like to be on the run alone. Though, he didn't realize that meant they'd be staying with him. To be fair, he didn't have much of a choice, since after getting the agents to buzz off the twins wouldn't let him out of their sight (Was he like this after escaping? Definitely not. (he was worse)). He takes them to his base of operations, a little shack in the middle of nowhere, with a museum and giftshop portion. Definitely not what the kids would expect from the worlds greatest supervillain, but who can judge?

Turns out, the shack and the town nearby have become a haven to people hiding from the Superhero Training Department, not that Stan knows this. Almost everyone has something to hide, but despite this Dipper and Mabel make new friends and start to live a normal (at least as normal as possible) life in Gravity Falls.

And for the next while they live in peace. Though, that's going to change pretty soon, when someone from Stan's past comes looking for the kids.

[system-to-the-madness]

Heart Aflame (2/3) - Zuko x Reader

Word Count: 3 173 Warnings: kidnapping, slavery, human trafficking, colonialism, mentions of: torture, physical violence, death Summary: You learn about a camp where your kidnapped sister might be held, so Zuko and you head out to find her   A/N: Part 6.2 of the series Perfect (10 times Zuko thought you were perfect and the first time he told you)

Heart Aflame Part One

The next time you woke up, it was with a strange feeling of utter safety spreading in your chest, even though it took you less than a second to know where you where and why you were here. It took you slightly longer to realise you had moved close enough to Zuko to cuddle against him in your sleep, which he, at least subconsciously, did not seem to mind, judging by the way his arm was wrapped around you. Quickly you moved away from him, but still careful enough that he wouldn’t wake up. Your cheeks were burning at the thought of having cozied up to him in this manner during the night, and you immediately decided he did not have to know. You were about to turn around and try to go back to sleep, when sudden steps in the distance alarmed you. Grabbing the knife you had placed by your head, you moved into a crouching position, waiting to be discovered. Indeed, the door to the washroom opened, and someone entered, but the steps were light and gentle.

“You know the drill,” a gruff voice spoke “One hour, as always.”

“I understand,” the soft voice of a girl answered. The door got closed and locked and for a moment there was no sound other than the steps of the guard disappearing down the corridor.

Then the girl started walking around the room. Was it Xin Yan’s friend, the one who had suggested you should stay the night in the washroom? And if not, how would the girl react to finding you and Zuko here?

A moment later your question got answered, as the girl with the scar poked her head around the corner.

“We don’t have much time,” she let you know, and you reached over to shake Zuko awake. His skin was warm even through his uniform and you couldn’t help the thought of how strong his arm felt even from just the short contact. Warm and alive. “I brought a few bites of breakfast, but it’s not much.” She handed you two slices of bread. “I have to get to work, or they’ll notice something is up. And you should get ready, eat a little, do your hair… They’ll come to let me out in an hour, then the door stays unlocked. Wait a few minutes if the corridor seems empty, you can just leave. Behave as if you belong here and nobody will ask questions.”

You nodded, making sure to not look over to Zuko who was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“We were thinking we could hide out in the library until lunch time, as suggested yesterday,” you explained, getting up and following the girl who began taking down uniforms.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. Do you know where you need to go?”

“Not at all.”

“Out of this room, to the right. Then through the door into the yard. The library is to the left, it has a huge Fire Nation emblem on the side, you can’t miss it. If you go to one of the reading rooms on the third floor, it’s going to be quiet. Almost nobody goes there during the day, but also not so few people that it would be weird. And if I’m not mistaken, the blueprints for the school are on the third floor, so you can research the layout of the buildings. You’ll find Ai for lunch time at the door to the kitchen, right when the bell rings. From the library, head straight across the yard, to the building with the three trees in the front. Go past the building and around to the back, there’s the door to the kitchen, where you’ll meet her.”

“Got it,” you agreed. “Do you need help here?”

“Rather not,” the girl sighed. “It would be weird if I suddenly got done more than usually. And you should get ready.”

She was right of course, so Zuko and you quickly chewed down the bread she had brought, together with some water you had still kept in the bags you had hidden behind the column. After that, Zuko helped you do your hair again, and in turn he did yours, finishing just in time before the guard returned.

Just as the girl had predicted, the guard didn’t lock the door after letting her outside, and after a few minutes, Zuko and you slipped out of the door, quickly assuming the stances you had taken last night as well, pretending to fit right in with all the other tutors. Still, you couldn’t help the chill that ran down your spine as you stepped from the cool shadow of the building into the warm sun lighting up the yard. A group of students, no older than eight years old, greeted you as they walked past you in two neat rows, and pretending you knew your way around, you crossed the yard, heading into the library building.

The thick stone walls of the library kept out the creeping in heat of the morning, and as quickly and unsuspiciously as possible, Zuko and you walked through the entrance hall and up a broad flight of stairs. The girl with the scar had been right. Hardly anybody was in the library at this time of day. On the second floor you came past a librarian, who seemed to be sorting some manuscripts, but other than that, there was nobody around.

The third floor seemed to be split into two parts; the first part was the reading room the girl had talked about. It had huge windows opening towards the east, letting morning sunlight flood into the wide room. Broad tables with chairs, perfect for piling up books and maps during research were lined up all across the room, making space for countless scholars to do their work, but the room was deserted nonetheless. The other part of the floor was separated from the reading room by a colourfully painted wall, depicting war scenes and the rise of the Fire Nation as leader of the world. It was a sickening image, you thought to yourself, even though the art was of highest quality, and the sun falling into the room made the image glow hopefully. But the depicted violence, the propaganda that went into such a creation… it made your stomach turn. Zuko seemed to feel the same way, because after staring at the mural for a while, taking in the depiction of ostrich-horses trampling down earth kingdom folk and flames eating up water tribe palaces, he finally tore out of his disgust induced stupor.

“Let’s check this out,” he decided, and pushed open a door that was labelled as map archive. The room behind the door was nothing as grand as the reading room. It was dark, no windows and only a low ceiling. Shelves piled up from the floor to the ceiling, stacked with heavy books and loose sheets of paper. Small lights from glowing stone lit up the dark, but it took a while for you to get used to the dim lights. The shelves had to contain thousands and thousands of books, and you already started wondering how you were to ever find the right book that contained the maps of the school, when you noticed the labelling on the shelves. Zuko and you started searching. First for Fire Nation. Then the Fire Nation islands. This island. And about half an hour into your search, you eventually found a box of scrolls that seemed to hold the blueprints for the school. Letting Zuko know of your findings, you carried the heavy folder outside into the still deserted reading room.

When you flicked open the box, dust swirled up into the air, dancing like tiny insects in the morning light. Carefully you pulled out map after map: one seemed to be for the library, one of the buildings you had just come from, the one with the laundry room and the dorms. One scroll showed the layout of the kitchen building, one the layout of the whole school.

Zuko grabbed that one and spread it out on the table, smoothing down the edges.

“This looks like an old military base,” he realized. “Here, this building, and the library,” he pointed to two buildings on the map. “I think they were added more recently. But if you take them away, you get a military base like the ones built during my great-grandfather’s reign.”

“Military bases always had a prison, right,” you asked, leaning over the map as well, studying it. The signs with which the map was labelled were the old-fashioned kind, some of which you could only guess the meaning. “Where would that have been?”

“Here,” Zuko pointed to one of the biggest buildings, that now seemed to hold the school administration. It lay east of the library and right across the yard from the building with the laundry room. “Traditionally the prisons were built underground. This way, rooms with daylight could be used for offices, and the prisoners would suffer the feeling of loss of time without the changing of the light.”

You left the cruelty of that idea uncommented and instead searched through the other scrolls for the one with the blueprints for the administration building. It was one of the biggest and thickest scrolls, several sheets rolled into one another, and Zuko helped you unroll them. It seemed like he had been right. The top floors all were offices, and what looked like the living quarters of the teachers and tutors. The ground floor was mostly just one huge entrance hall with a few broom closets to the side.

“The hall is most likely for school gatherings during holidays or special occasions,” Zuko explained before pulling the sheet away to reveal the floor underneath.

“Here,” you pointed to what seemed to be a narrow corridor with many connecting small rooms, the whole hallway labelled as ‘reprimanding cubicles’.

Zuko nodded. “That might be the cells, you’re right.”

His eyes kept scanning the blueprint, and he bit his lip.

“What are you thinking,” you asked, noticing his hesitation.

“The girls said, they hadn’t seen your sister with the other students in the cells, right? That means, if she’s still on the premises, she’s held separately…”

You nodded, also beginning to study the map again. This was the lowest floor of the building, if the Fire Nation really treated her like a threat to their authority, and still decided to keep her here, she had to be on this floor.

“There,” you pointed to a tiny room in the very back of the corridor, furthest away from the staircase and around several corners. “This must be it.” Zuko didn’t answer, as you stared at the small square. Your eyebrows furrowed. “What does this ‘SD’ stand for?”

Instead of immediately answering, Zuko reached out his hand and placed it over yours.

“You’re shaking,” he mumbled, pulling your hand away from the paper. His skin was rough and warm, and the contact sent a shiver down your spine. He felt so safe. “The ‘SD’ stands for ‘specifically dangerous’. It was used for prisoners who posed a direct threat to the fire lord’s safety.”

You froze. “Didn’t that mean execution?”

“It still does… but this is a school, your sister is only a child,” Zuko swallowed thickly as if he was trying to convince himself most of all that the Fire Nation wouldn’t harm her. “My father’s commands might be cruel, but not even he would allow to put hand on such a small child.”

Something in the way Zuko’s voice wavered gave away that he only half believed what he was saying and you had to resist the urge to ask what his father had done to him.

After you had figured out, where Xiang was, Zuko and you continued studying the maps, coming up with escape routes and possible hide outs, should things not go according to plan. The sun moved across the sky quickly, and while an unbearable nervousness began settling in your stomach, you also wished you’d have more time. More time to come up with better plans, more time to prepare mentally. There was still the chance that Xiang wasn’t in the cell you and Zuko suspected her in. There was still the chance that she wouldn’t recognize you. Maybe she would even refuse to go with Zuko and you. Sure, both Zuko and you could easily pick her up and escape with her like that, but it would make things difficult, more difficult than escaping the guards of a school that was basically a prison already was.

But whether you wanted it or not, the sun kept climbing up in the sky and soon it was time to pack away the maps and leave the library. You made sure the tables you had worked at were cleared and the scrolls back where you had found them, before you made your way back down to the entrance of the library and past the heavy walls of the building into the yard. Out here, the sun had heated up the stone tiles on the ground, making heat blast into your face as you stepped outside. You knew Zuko could tell how nervous you were, but other than sending you a few glances from the corner of his eyes, he didn’t let anything on.

You had almost made it halfway through the yard, when suddenly a figure emerged from the shadows of the trees you were heading for. A cold shiver ran down your spine as you recognized the hunched over figure as Guo, your old teacher. Pretending not to know more about her than that she now was working for the Fire Nation, you and Zuko kept heading her way, greeting her in passing. You had already walked past her, when she suddenly called for you.

“You two!” Her voice sounded as rough as ever. “You patrolled the dorms last night, right?”

Zuko and you stopped in your tracks, shooting each other quick glances, before slowly turning around to her. Here in the bright daylight the chances for her recognizing you were so much higher than they had been in the dimly lit stairwell last night.

“Yes,” Zuko answered, taking a step forward, conveniently hiding you behind his back. “Were there any problems that we overlooked?”

“No.”

You couldn’t see Guo’s face, but something in the way she snarled out that single word made alarm bells ring in your head.

“No problems at all. You did a good job. And now on your way!”

Zuko and you quickly bowed to her, before turning around, continuing your way to the kitchen door. Your heart was hammering hard in your chest, both from the unpleasant encounter and the knowledge that you finally were getting close to seeing your sister again.

Ai was waiting by the kitchen door to be escorted by you, just like you had planned. She was holding onto a cart, stacked with covered plates, doubtlessly for the children who were sitting in these cells.

Acknowledging she nodded to you, but when you opened you mouth to ask how she was doing she shook her head.

“Tutors usually don’t talk to us students,” she quickly let you know, pushing the cart forwards so she was walking between the two of you. “I’ll help you get into the Mould, but you need to find your own way from there on out.”

Zuko and you nodded in agreement, before you all started walking. The yard was bigger than it had looked on the maps, and the walk took long enough for the blaring sun to become uncomfortably hot on your head. The building you were headed towards was tall and looming, almost seeming to lean over the yard, and the closer you got to it, the more it reminded you of a waiting monster, with these many blank windows like soulless eyes following your every movement.

As you approached the door, you noticed two guards blocking the way. At your side, Ai started to get nervous.

“This is unusual,” she whispered, before you came into earshot of the guards, who straightened up when you approached them, crossing their speers, to barricade then entrance.

“You are not permitted to enter,” the taller one of the two spoke.

“I’m just delivering the food for the students in the Mo- in the cells,” Ai tried to explain, but the other guard shook his head.

“Wrong answer.”

And with that, he they suddenly pointed their speers at Zuko and you.

“Prince Zuko, (y/n), get down on the ground now!”

Zuko reacted before you had even quite made sense of the situation. With one hand he grabbed the lance that had been pointed at him, ripping it out of the guard’s grip, while he used his other hand to launch a fire ball at the guard who had been threatening you.

“We’ve been found out, come on!”

Grabbing your wrist, he dragged you behind himself into the building, not even looking back to check on Ai.

The hall you entered was dark compared to the bright sunlight outside, but after having memorized the maps, you knew which way to go. Turning right, you raced through the second door from the entrance, which lead down a narrow staircase into the part of the basement that held the Mould. Sure enough, once you had reached the bottom of the stairs, doors with bars lined the corridor left and right. The air was moist down here, moist and full of the sickening stench of mould. The name these cells had been given was not undeserving. You had barely passed two cells, when you noticed the children. One in each cell, pale little faces with wide eyes staring at you as you ran past them. You felt your heart break, wanting to help them, to free them from this awful place in the dark, wet cold. But you couldn’t. Not right now anyway. You had to keep going, find Xiang, get her out of here. And when the war was over, after Aang had defeated the Fire Lord, you’d come back here and make sure each one of these kids got to go back to their family. Or a place equally as good, if there was no family left who they might want to go back to.

The corridor was long and narrow, but your heart was beating so wildly in your chest, that you barely cared. You rounded a corner, then another one. Two more corners left before you’d get to the cell where Xiang was. One more corner. And then-

Zuko stopped so abruptly, that you ran into his back full force, almost making both of you tumble to the ground.

“What’s wrong,” you panted, glancing past his shoulder into the dim darkness.

There was the cell you had been looking for. And the door stood wide open.

Your heart, one minute ago still beating wildly, suddenly sank. You were too late.

A/N: I'm really, really sorry for this delay. Tbh i haven't been doing so well recently. Until now, when I wasn't well, it was "only" my mental health and university, but now to top it off, my physical health is also... it could be better. I injured my shoulder, and in December I'll get told wether I need an operation, and to make everything worse, there's the posibilty that I have insulin resistancy (which can lead to diabetes), and I yet have to get an appointment with a doctor who takes that problem seriously. Which in and of itself is fun, but then with the possibility that I might end up with diabetes because old people don't listen to me... Yeah, so things are not working out as i want them too. I have all the parts of this series written and proof-read, but posting it takes a lot of energy and sometimes time, which i both don't have enough of atm. I hope you guys can understand. I'll try to stick to the weekly posting schedule, but i can't make any promises rn.

Heart Aflame Part Three

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