#her mind constantly in the fast lane

[onaperduamedee]

Not maintagging because this is dangerously close to shitposting but her face as Nyn and Egwene walk in cracks me up:

About to indulge in a smidge of rhetoric mastery to persuade twenty-somethings to save the world.

[callalillywrites]

His Scarred Omega Part 1

Alpha!Bucky really put me in a chokehold the past couple of days. I wasn't even trying to write his story just yet. Was actually trying write a one-shot that would happen after the main story, but yeah, he quite changed my mind and this feverish, 7-part story came to be in two days.

This is set in the same universe as Their Sweet Omega (aka It Takes All Packs to Make It Work). You don't really have to read that story first, which features Alpha!Jake Jensen with Beta!Pre-serum Steve Rogers and their Omega!Reader, but I would love it so much if you did. They hold my heart as much as Bucky does.

Relationship: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 1450

Summary: While helping out his friends, Bucky makes a shocking discovery. He's got a daughter he never knew existed.

Warnings: not much in this part beyond one shell-shocked Bucky

A/N: I wrote this story really fast as I mentioned above. It’s proofread but all mistakes are my own.

I also do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

Bucky is a weak man.

He really is.

All it takes a pretty face making those awful puppy eyes at him, and he’s putty in Angel’s hands.

She doesn’t play fair, either, enlisting Steve’s equally effective puppy-dog eyes.

Bucky kowtows in less than five seconds though he’ll forever say it took more than that to get him to agree to help them.

Spooky Season is right around the corner.

Angel and Steve feel bad for telling Jake he can’t buy any more big decorations for their home. It’s already overflowing as it is, but they do know he’s been eyeing a couple of pieces. He really is the best Alpha for them as Jake’s constantly doting on them and taking such good care of them.

One of said pieces is what Angel and Steve have wrangled Bucky into this whole mess.

They drag him to the store to pick up said piece, needing his Alpha strength and build since the piece weighs more than the two of them combined plus some. No way they can get it home, let alone carry it into their home. Delivery isn’t an option, either, without paying triple what the item costs.

So, he’s there and eyeing the piece with them.

A few grumbles come out under his breath. “I’m holding you to your promise, Angel.”

Angel simply smiles at him, knowing she still has his help and nods. “I haven’t forgotten. Name the date, and I’ll be there. We’ll take down that ogre boss together.”

“Your truck will hold this, won’t it, Buck?” Steve can’t help asking, seeing the piece himself and having his own doubts about this plan he and Angel came up with for Jake.

Bucky eyes the box holding the piece for another few moments before he finally nods. “It’ll be a tight fit, but I’ll make it work.”

With that, the trio begin working on pulling the giant statue from the low shelf and onto the flatbed cart they snagged from an employee.

With that successfully done, Angel quickly grabs up a spare ticket for the cashier to scan since the barcode is poorly placed on the bottom of the box. Not something they’re going to want to deal with and slow down the few lanes open at this time of day.

“I’ll go ahead and pay for it if you two want to start making your way to the truck,” Steve says, taking the ticket from Angel and rushing off before she can think to argue.

Bucky bites back a smile when he sees and hears Angel huff at Steve’s retreating back.

“The punk is gone, Angel,” he says.

“He promised we’d split this gift.” Angel turns back to Bucky with a look he’s come to understand all too well in the almost two years he’s known her now. He does his best to brace himself as she grabs the front of the flatbed cart. “Time to do some extra shopping, I guess. If I can’t use my money on Jake, then I’m going to use it on Stevie.”

Shaking his head, Bucky knows better than to try and dissuade her at this point. “How are you going to hide this gift from him when he’s with us?”

Rather than answer, Angel just gives him a mischievous look that has him bracing for whatever he’s about to witness.

He can’t help wondering how Jake handles these two most days as Angel drags him towards the art supply aisles of the store. A basket somehow ends up in the crook of her arm where she’s already tossing several items within it. How that happened, he can and will never be able to explain.

Within five minutes, she has the basket overflowing with supplies.

Bucky can make out a lot of the brands that Steve really likes, including some of the more expensive items that Steve only splurges occasionally to get himself.

When Angel is satisfied with her overflowing basket, she grabs hold of the flatbed and helps him maneuver toward the front of the store again.

Seeing the satisfied grin on her face, Bucky can’t help wondering if he’ll ever find someone who wants to spoil him as much as Angel, Steve, and Jake spoil each other. That’s the kind of love Bucky wants, but he’s not sure it’ll ever be in the cards for him.

It’s on their way back that they overhear a young girl, probably no older than 8 or 9 as she whined about one of the latest costume trends. “All the girls are going as Harley Quinn this year, Auntie. Please? Please?”

The woman’s voice niggles at Bucky as he overhears the woman say, “You can go as a butterfly or a witch, but I draw the line at Harley, Gracie. We can talk about Harley when you’re older.”

“Mama would’ve let me go as Harley,” the young girl named Gracie grouses back. “I wish she was here instead of you.”

Bucky isn’t sure why or how it’s possible, but it’s like he can feel the disappointment and sadness of the woman at the young girl’s words. No doubt the woman is an Omega, but he’s never had such a reaction to someone like this before. He briefly wonders if Jake has had this reaction with either Angel or Steve before. A mental note is made to ask Jake later about it.

When they round the corner, Bucky gets his first glimpse of the Omega and the young girl named Gracie.

He forgets how to breathe as he takes in the familiar features of a woman he never thought to see again. A woman who’d been little more than a young lady when he last saw her.

Has it really been almost ten years since he’s seen her?

Yet, it’s not the Omega from his past that captures his focus as much as Gracie does.

The little girl’s appearance is enough to send Bucky to his knees.

It’s not possible.

It can’t be.

Yet, there’s no denying this Gracie looks just like him. The same dark hair. The same crystal blue eyes. Even her nose and mouth match his as they pout up at her aunt.

“You okay, Buck?” Angel asks, her gaze going between him and the Omega with the little girl. “Bucky?”

Her questions don’t go unnoticed, either, as the Omega turns her attention to them. Her eyes widen and her lip instantly goes between her teeth. A gesture that Bucky recalls she does when she’s feeling guilty about something.

No one speaks for another full minute.

At least, not until Steve happens upon them and sees the Omega.

“Sapphire, is that really you?” Steve asks before his gaze drops to the little girl.

Bucky knows he’d be laughing at Steve’s comically shocked expression if he could just get the ability to breathe and function back into his own body.

“Who is this?” Steve finally asks with a soft smile at the little girl. He holds out his hand to the little girl and introduces himself.

“I’m Gracie.”

She adds her last name as she takes Steve’s hand.

Steve’s gaze bounces between Gracie and Bucky. It’s clear he’s coming to the same conclusions Bucky already has made at seeing the little girl.

Gracie is his kid, and Dot is her mother.

Dot, the woman who broke his heart all those years ago with a Dear John letter. The same woman who has given birth to his child and never bothered to tell him.

“So, I think we need to talk,” her aunt says, her gaze never leaving Bucky.

Bucky nods, drawing on his inner alpha to help him regain control of himself.

“Yeah, we do.”

He wants answers, and he’s going to make sure he gets them one way or another.

“Tomorrow at noon?” her aunt asks, naming a quiet café not too far from the store.

Bucky nods again, then turns his attention to Gracie.

A small smile grows on his features as she’s lost interest in Steve and has turned her attention to him. Her eyes study him in a way that he knows he’s done with others throughout his life. She’s taking note of everything about him, and he can only hope he doesn’t end up disappointing her.

Whatever doubts he might have, they disappear the longer he and Gracie measure each other.

She’s his.

When she holds out her little hand to him, he has to swallow the emotions clogging his throat as she introduces herself. It takes him a few tries before he can tell her his name in return.

Now, he has to make sure he doesn’t lose any more time than he’s already lost with her.

*****

Verse Masterlist / Main Masterlist

[pendularium]

sorry, yapping quickly. I saw a post earlier analysing how vi doesn't stand up for the zaunites to caitlyn, and contrasting that to jinx (and ekko), and viewing vi as a sort of pick me (not the language used but I can't find the original rn), and like. yes, I think the argument is correct, but there is like one thing I want to add, which is that vi, unlike jinx and ekko, isn't really in a position where she can criticise caitlyn right? ok hear me out. so one) imo a lot of s1 establishes vi as someone genuinely desperate for connection - its the thought to getting back to powder that gets her through prison (where she has been pretty isolated), her and caitlyn click incredibly fast etc, and all of s1 into s2 happen pretty damn fast right? vi gets out of prison, gains a friend, regains a sister and then instantly loses her again, and then that loss of powder is really underscored in the finale - vi has very few relationships left, and most of the ones she has had have ended in horrible tragedy and violence; it is no wonder that she especially would try to cling to the one (cait) she has left and two) vi is also someone who is constantly in the big sister/protector role - her intro shows this, her leadership of their little gang as kids, and after the time skip (after she fails) you can see her try to assert her dominance over caitlyn in s1 - vi is the one who knows the lanes, caitlyn has to keep up, vi throws caitlyn out of her comfort zone in the brothel etc., vi is trying to demonstrate that she has worth to caitlyn right? and of course when maddie is talking to vi, it's caitlyn expressing respect for vi's actions that vi seizes onto. I don't think this is (just) a way of showing off to caitlyn, rich girl from piltover, I think this is part of vi's understanding of herself as a figure of authority and protection in her relationships put them together and you have someone who, when confronted with an angry and grieving caitlyn, her last real connection (not counting ekko) makes compromises to avoid a confrontation with her. vi doesn't counter 'what kind of animals' directly, because that risks her relationship with caitlyn; she is pretty consistently someone who cares more about personal relationships than the grand scheme of things (as does powder/jinx but that's a different post). and yet, with that in mind, vi does try to defend zaunites! first, she tries to humanise them right; instead of being wild uncontrollable beasts, vi positions them as making a calculated attack - they wanted the spectacle, they're trying to scare you, and then after caitlyn doubles down on her anger towards them, vi pushes for caitlyn to call off the invasion. those aren't the actions of someone who doesn't care about zaunites, or would rather side with piltover imo, they're the actions of someone who does care about zaun, but who doesn't want to jeopardise her relationship with caitlyn. vi joining the enforcers is not only her staying with caitlyn, but also her trying to prevent the invasion. if I go after your sister alone, one of us comes back in a box = caitlyn won't go alone. the strike force then, can be read as a deliberate compromise between caitlyn, who has all the power here, and vi, who doesn't want zaun to be invaded by the enforcers

this is, of course, just a way you can read all this lol, if you disagree/want to add on please do so! I am a bit busy rn but I cannot express how much I want to talk about arcane with people

[loonarmuunar]

Just finished Saw II. And I have MANY OPINIONS

I don’t think the larger cast works in the runtime for the film. I think it COULD work! But with the fast pacing and shorter runtime, it ends up being awkward.

Saw was great bc it hurt. The audience is given time to connect with the characters. We see them try over and over again, only to end up right back where they started.

But in Saw II there just isn’t any time to learn much about anyone. I don’t think we even learn some of the characters names? I couldn’t connect to any of the characters, besides Daniel. There’s just. Very little to no downtime in the film. We don’t get to know a lot of the characters motivations besides “get out of here”.

Like. Why did Obi kidnap them?? He said he had to, but. What does that mean. Was he being threatened? It feels odd to me that they went with that, when they could’ve just said he did it for money or something. Or just had Amanda take the others, like she did in the first film.

Tbh Addison (had to look up her name) doesn’t even seem to have any distinct traits?? She’s a prostitute, but we learn that in the weirdest way. Xavier (I think?) says “The only door you know how to open is between your legs.” which. I gotta say is such a ridiculous line that it’s funny. Does he say this about every woman??? Was this just a lucky guess?? Is he just REALLY GOOD at telling who’s a prostitute???? That’s just the silliest way I can think of introducing her profession akdksk.

She might be quieter than most of the other characters (maybe??), but I think it’s more that the others are constantly screaming at each other. You could possibly say she stays in her lane?? But there’s just nothing much you can say.

I can’t care about these characters while they’re living, and so I can’t care about them when they’re dead.

Also it looks more like they just tried to kill off as many characters as fast as possible. GOGOGOGO SHOT IN THE HEAD BURNED ALIVE NAIL-BAT NERVE GAS EVIL BOX EVIL BOX!!! Like Idk what’s the point when you could just. Have a smaller cast, and have more time for other stuff like. Learning who they are.

Saw ii is just a lot of shock value. Which, I don’t MIND shock value sometimes! Sometimes it’s awesome to see how special effects will make it look like someone got split in half, or exploded from the inside, or whatever. Sometimes it’s Sick As Hell! I am not above watching gore for gore’s sake!! But in the particular instance, I think shock value is the WORST THING you could do here. Because it’s a very strong veer away from the quieter, more anxiety inducing gore and fear in Saw.

Going from Saw’s slow paced dreadful horror, exploring two characters deeply, and occasional bloodshed, to Saw II’s huge cast with not enough time to explore any of them, and non-stop blood and gore, is just frustrating.

Also! The gore and ickyness just kinda loses its value for me! In Saw they cut away occasionally from the gorey parts. And I LIKE THAT. Whatever you can imagine will always be worse. Writers typically don’t tell you what happens in a Noodle Incident, bc whatever you imagine will be far more interesting. And it’s not like we were missing out on anything, because there were other instances of onscreen blood and gore. Imagining how it would look seeing Lawrence sawing off his foot, or Amanda cutting open someone’s stomach, is a lot more effective than seeing it happen.

Saw II wants to do everything Saw did but MORE. Gorier louder bigger more characters. But it ends up being a movie with no substance.

It’s honestly not a bad movie on its own merit. If it was its own film, it would be pretty okay to me. But it fails to even live up to Saw, much less stand next to it.

Maybe Saw III will give more context to things. I don’t know. Shrug. Would love to see some other takes on it! I want to understand why others like this movie :]

[redcreeksavannah]

(  kristine  froseth  .  cis  woman  .  she  /  her  ) .  ⸻  savannah  grady  , a  twenty  -  five  year  old  ,  has  survived  another  day  in  red  creek  where  they  have  lived  for  nine  years  .  the  southern  belle  is  known  for  being  eccentric  and  insecure  and  is  often  associated  with  the  smell  of  lavender  and   cigarette  smoke   ,  pumpkin  chai  tea  lattes  ,  smudged  eyeliner . in a small town where they work  as  a   baker  for  early  rise  bakery  &  cafe  +  the  drummer  at  redstone  bar  word  travels  fast  .  it’s  hard  to  keep  a  secret  ,  and  it  looks  like  the  boogeyman  knows  that  redacted .

trigger warning for mentions of abortion, anxiety, emotional abuse, pregnancy

STATS.

full name: savannah elizabeth grady

age: twenty-five

hair color: dirty blonde / light brunette

eye color: blue

piercings: both ear holes, left ear cartilage

tattoos: too many to count, they are all across her body, most of them either stick n’ poke or done by her friends 

distinguishing features: freckles sprinkled across her cheeks, contagious laughter, legs that go for days, a crooked but friendly smile, a southern accent that never quite went away 

preferred style of clothing: mostly thrifted clothing or anything passed down from her aunt or borrowed from her friends with like minded style. she is really big on cardigans or jackets over flowy dresses/skirts/maxi skirts. mixing feminine/soft/girly pieces with band tee's or something more casual.

frequently worn jewelry/accessories: funky earrings/rings/jewelry that has been made by her or bought, friendship bracelets, her infamous yellow bookbag, worn down sneakers and cowgirl boots.

sexuality: bi-sexual/bi-romantic

occupation:  baker  for  early  rise  bakery  &  cafe  +  the  drummer  at  redstone  bar

positive traits: adventurous, eccentric, warm

negative traits: reckless, insecure, naive

CHARACTER INSPIRTATIONS.

peyton sawyer (one tree hill), lexie howard (euphoria), lane kim (gilmore girls), julie taylor (friday night lights)

CHARACTER PLAYLIST.

tied together with a smile - taylor swift

gypsy - fleetwood mac

matilda - harry styles

mess it up - gracie abrams

AESTHETICS.

the smell of lavender and cigarette smoke, the banging of drums, the taste of refreshing lemonade on a hot summer's day, infectious laughter, baby pink scrunchies on your wrist, thrift shop adventures with an iced chai tea latte, freckles sprinkled across cheeks, mascara stained pillowcases, a field full of sunflowers, blasting your favorite songs alone in your room

MINO BIO / HEADCANONS.

savannah was born as youngest of two children, growing up in a small town in rural kentucky. her mother, a bakery owner and her father a teacher/football coach, the grady's could be considered a 'white picket fence and perfect' family.

the grady family grew up on a small family farm, with your typical farm animals and crops.

she grew up in a very strict and religious family. this meant going to church multiple times a week, praying before every meal, volunteering in the local community, and not falling victim to anything secular.

hard-work was an ethic that was drilled into the grady children since birth. if savannah wasn't helping around the farm or the bakery, she was keeping up with her school work or extra curricular activities (such as beauty pageants, girl scouts, and cheerleading).

savannah has always struggled with feeling like the black sheep of the family, constantly feeling over shadowed by her older brother, older to her by two years. he was always more extroverted and naturally talented with sports and other extra curricular activities. savannah on the other hand? she was more on the introverted and eccentric side. not taking a liking towards football and any sports for that matter. she was much more interested in reading or sneaking on the family computer to listen to music on youtube (but always deleting her browsing history).

savannah tried her best to play the role of a well mannered, perfect daughter. going with the flow and playing the parts to make her parents 'proud of her', but in the back of her mind, she always felt like she wasn't the golden child. she struggled with always feeling slightly inadequate in comparison to her brother. if her brother was getting straight a's and scoring touchdowns, she was only getting b's and winning second or third in beauty pageants or other competitions. she couldn't quite measure up, feeling like she could never be her true self and show her true colors.

music became a coping mechanism and outlet for her when she entered into her late middle school and high school years. always trying to be a kind soul to her fellow classmates, she befriended some of the more 'loner' girls of her grade level. after hearing 'gypsy' by fleetwood mac on her ipod, savannah commented on the song and saying she enjoyed it. after doing a deep dive and discovery of fleetwood mac's further discography, there was no turning back. she wanted to learn more, discover more music. making a secret youtube channel and joining music blogs, she started her journey of discovering more artists/bands. she felt slightly guilty doing this, feeling like she was living a double life.

as she transitioned into her high school years, that is when she began a bit of a rebellious streak. she could be found sneaking out a few nights a month with friends, headed to the next few towns over to underage drink and sneak into concerts. her parents had no idea what she was doing but strict parents raise sneaky kids....

when she was sixteen, she began a secret relationship with a senior at a rival highschool of her's. savannah was drawn to the older boy, the total dirtbag rocker type who was in a crappy garage band with hopes of making it big. they bonded over their music tastes and not so favorable homelives. she was head over heels for him, not knowing anything else since this was her first serious relationship with anyone.

their relationship ended very abruptly after savannah discovered she was pregnant after losing her virginity to him. feeling terrified and not knowing what to do, savannah would end up having an abortion behind her parent's back. her bestfriend and her mother drove her to a clinic a few hours outside of town, trying their best to provide comfort towards her.

savannah struggled pretty hard with the aftermaths of it, cutting ties with her boyfriend and claiming that she had to end things due to her parents finding out about their relationship. her mother would find out about the abortion a few months following it after discovering a journal entry from savannah. savannah secretly kept a journal under one of her floor boards, along lighters, a small bag of weed, and skimpy clothing/band merch she knew that she couldn't wear around her family.

her parents were furious at her, exploding in front of her and showing just how disappointed in how much things she had been hiding from them.

they would choose to ship her off to her aunt gina who lived in northern michigan, in the town of redcreek. basically choosing to disown her, they wanted her hours away from kentucky and out of their hair.

soooooo she went to southern living to midwest trailer park living, the adjustment not being the easiest?

it takes a bit for her to adjust to life within redcreek but she is able to complete high school, having made a small group of friends from the cheer squad and other hobbies. she was far from being part of the popular crowd in comparison of her previous school, but she was okay with that.

college was in the back of her mind but she wasn't interested in pursing a degree right after graduating. her aunt gina didn't want to pressure her into making any choices and doing what felt right for savannah.

currently she is just kinda vibing at the moment, working at a baker at the early rise cafe and bakery and also being the drummer at the redstone bar. her ultimate goal in life would be for the band to break into mainstream success or to work within the music industry in other capacities.

OTHER FUN FACTS.

she has not spoken to her parents since she moved to redcreek, she has considered calling or writing a letter to them, but feels like for her own mental health, it's for the best she still keeps the distance. she occasionally keeps in touch with her older brother, giving him random life updates every few months through texts.

despite the hardships she has gone through, she still tries to have a soft heart with others.

she loves her morning cigarettes / the devil's lettuce ;)

is a cat person 1000000%

fleetwood mac is her all time favorite band

can be considered an introverted extrovert. is 100000% a talkative person when she is high/drunk. If she is comfortable enough in your presence, she can open up.

her love language is physical touch and food. she loves cuddling with her friends and hugs! (even just in a platonic way). she also loves being that friend to make your favorite meal or snack if you had a bad day.

she is a mom friend who can always be seen sporting her beloved yellow bookbag. It’s one she has had for years, covered in her favorite pins, buttons, and decorated in song lyrics and notes from her friends. It is usually filled to the brim with a mix of random and useful items. her friends often tease her saying that she can live out of that damn bag of her’s. 

is very competitive with claw machine games.

she is definitely the kind of friend to not ask for gas money and will wait for you while you tie your shoes.

she has a decent online following on instagram/tiktok. she makes mostly lifestyle and cooking contact. she has had a few of her tiktok videos gone viral from her vlogs at the bakery and her grwm's with her outfits, people feeling drawn to her eccentric style of dressing.

the key to her heart is sour candy and sunflowers.

mixed drink of choice of a vodka redbull.

LOVES thrifting, most of her clothes are thrifted <3.

is a bit of a hopeless romantic but is such a sucker for rom com's!!!!

[cardcaptorsakura96]

We're All In This Together- Chapter 1

Fandom: Supergirl, Batman, Superman, The Flash

Characters: Kara Danvers, Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Barry Allen, Barbara Gordon, Leonard Snart, Mxyzptlk, John Stewart, Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen

Summary: Kara, Clark, and Barry are taken off guard by a request by the imp Mxyzptlk: watch over and protect the children of their alternate selves from a different Earth. Will our heroes rise to the occasion?

Mxyzptlk looked through his list and sighed. He recently got released from prison in the fifth dimension. Part of his release program was to atone for all the victims of his petty crimes across every dimension he has ever visited. Originally prosecution was appalled at such weak terms of conditions until they listed out all the dimensions he has ever been to. Unfortunately, he has popped in and out of hundreds of thousands of different realities. He will more than likely die before he makes all of his restitutions. Unfortunately, the person that he pissed off the most in multiple dimensions was different variations of Superman. 

Mxy scrunched his face at the thought.

“The Superman in any reality is such a bore.”

He shook his head and looked for anyone else he could start with. He looked up thoughtfully at the first name that wasn’t Superman, his cousin Supergirl. 

“Ah, let’s start with her. She is nicer than her stuffy old cousin. Maybe old isn’t the right word since Supergirl is technically older than Superman.” 

He looked up the details of this Supergirl. Seems she is from Earth 103. He remembers the Supergirl from this reality being pleasant, but Superman though was a different story. He was very intense which was why Mxy left so quickly the last time he was there. In most realities, Superman was known for not killing, but the one from Earth 103 just made Mxy shudder thinking about him. He hadn’t killed anyone yet the last time Mxy was there, but there was something about his eyes that made Mxy wonder if that would ever change at all. Mxy shook his head and said,  “Maybe, Supergirl can put in a good word for me before I approach that Superman. If I recall, he wasn’t as nice as his other counterparts. Hopefully, I can kill two birds with one stone.”

Mxy snapped his fingers and was instantly transported to Earth 103. He quickly frowned once he got there. Normally, when he instantly transports, it would take him to the person of his desire. In this case, it should have transported him to Supergirl. However, he was now in an enclosed dark room. Mxy felt instant dread. Normally when this happens, it means that it isn’t safe to be around his target and transports him close by but in a safe location. The magic fail-safe has saved many imps from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Mxy used magic to adjust his eyesight to see in the dark. He realized that he was in a panic room that was about the size of a small closet. There was a computer monitor on the right wall, but it was turned off. There was a chair, a table, and four other occupants. There was a woman in her late 20s kneeling on the floor. On the table, were three babies in car seats. If he had to take a guess, they looked like newborns. The babies were fast asleep. Mxy looked back at the women. He didn’t want to spook her, but he needed information about what was going on. He decided to do a mind meld. Usually, he hated doing these because the mind meld exposed each other’s minds to the participants involved, but considering that this lady is hiding in a safe room in the dark, he knows that making sounds or bright lights is not an option. He pushed his mind towards her. He was surprised to find a door. He was almost impressed. Humans weren’t known for having the ability to protect their minds from telepaths. However, that let him know that she needed to do this constantly. Instead of trying to ram his way in he knocked and waited. After waiting a couple of minutes, wondering if he could just tap her physically without screaming, he felt her presence behind the door. He could sense terror and shame, but there was a startling little bit of hope among the dark emotions. 

He pressed his hand on the door and said, “My name is Mxyzptik, but I mostly go by Mxy. I am trying to help pay back Supergirl as part of my release program. I used magic to take me where she is, but it brought me to you instead. I don’t know if you know why that is.”

He felt the space in her mind shake with immense sadness seeping through the door. It nearly overwhelmed him. After a moment, it suddenly stopped and the door cracked open a little. A woman’s head popped out a little and Mxy instantly recognized her, Lois Lane. She looked at him strangely and said, “Supergirl talked about you a lot. You kept transporting her to different places randomly leaving her stranded.”

Mxy rubbed the back of his head and said, “It wasn’t one of my more finer moments. That is why I would like to make it up to her.”

Lois’ face filled with so much sorrow which took him aback. She opened the door and motioned him inside. Once he entered, he realized he was in a white room where there was a display that appeared to the right. 

“What is that for?” asked Mxy curiously. 

Lois sniffed while wiping tears streaming down her face. 

She looked back up at Mxy and said, “I can’t verbally recount what happened, but I can show you.”

The screen instantly flickered on and showed a rapid flash of images. It started with Superman changing from his traditional costume to one that was all back, to Superman killing off the Justice League one by one, and lastly to Supergirl and her wife being eviscerated by Superman’s heat vision. When the images ended, Mxy had to fight the bile that was threatening to come out of his stomach. 

Lois said softly, “When he killed Supergirl, I had my child with me along with Supergirl’s newborn and the Flash’s newborn. I fled with them. This room we are in is supposed to be encased in lead, soundproof, and littered on the outside with Kryptonite, but I don’t know if that will hold us that long.”

Mxy looked at her with much sorrow. Technically, he didn’t have to do anything. He can’t help Supergirl who is already dead and helping Superman was out of the question since he turned into a homicidal maniac. However, he wanted to do something. 

He looked at her determined and said, “I know that he took out the Justice League, but I recall you having some powerful villains. Maybe, if they got together, they could…”

Lois shook her head and said, “That is what caused all of this in the first place.”

He looked at her baffled as Lois pointed him towards the screen again. When he looked to the screen, it showed Lex escaping from Arkham. He shot Clark with a Kryptonite bullet which caused him to go down for a couple of minutes. As Lex made his escape in his getaway car, he ran a school bus off the road into a lake. Superman heard the screams and hurried to get the Kryptonite bullet out of his chest so he could save the kids. However, by the time he did, it was too late. The kids had all drowned. When Superman brought out the school bus from the lake, you could see his face change from subdued to absolutely terrified when he realized that he recognized all of these students. One student in particular, his son Conner. Lois and Clark’s son was only 10 when this happened and hadn’t come into his powers yet. He cried over his son’s cold and lifeless body. His eyes then started going red and then he was off into the sky. 

The images on the display show Lois trying to reach out to Superman, but he pushed her away. Instead, he instantly went to kill Luthor and then every other criminal on the planet. Anybody that opposed him like the League or government agencies was wiped out.

Read the rest on AO3

[catalinastarlight]

Hi!! This is something I started working on a pretty long time ago! It’s a burlesque inspired AU with Sevika x fem!reader. It’s not finished, nor will it ever be. Most likely. But I hope you enjoy! No smut, not edited. Sorry for any mistakes!

~

Dancing was always something that you had adored, ever since you were a child. You’d love to watch the other kids dance their weird little routines and would join in when they’d let you. But you were kind of awkward and jerky so they wouldn’t let all that often, but you cherished when they did. You’d dance in your room constantly, when there was a room of course. Your parents had to move quite often, with the way the Lanes were nowadays especially. But you didn’t mind too much, it just meant you could meet more people your age.

Fast forward to now and you were a burnt-out twenty-five year old with no clue what in the fuck you were going to do with your life. You worked as a bartender currently, it paid the bills but left little for much else. And you didn’t even enjoy it, it was just something to make the time pass and make sure you had a roof over your head.

One night as you were closing up your friend suggested that you go out with her, and typically you’d always say no. But you had a rough week and decided that a few drinks couldn’t hurt, so you agreed. You finished cleaning up the bar, making sure every patron was gone before leaving with your friend and locking the door behind you. It truly was a wonder no one had broken in yet and you weren’t about to question it.

Your friend, Lou, a fairly short girl with emerald green hair and bright golden eyes, guided you through the crowded streets to a part of the Lanes you didn’t even know about. It was dark and a little seedy, not that that was much of a shocker. Most places in the Lanes looked similar to that. She went to a secluded door, knocking three times rapidly. A little hatch in the door slid open, one large glowing green eye peered through to look at your friend and you.

“It’s Lou. Now let us in, Marv.” Lou spoke in a flat tone, giving the person on the other side of the door an unamused look. The person grunted, sliding the hatch closed with a click. You heard a couple locks being popped open then the sound of the door scraping against the floor. Lou grabbed your hand, pulling you through the door. She gave you a bright smile and wiggled her eyebrows.

You immediately noticed how dark and cluttered it was, wondering where the hell Lou had taken you. “What is this place?” You asked, looking around at the hallway you currently stood in. There were newspaper articles and nude paintings and pictures of women all over the walls. You could barely see the muted coral color underneath it. It was dimly lit, a crystal chandelier hanging over your heads emitting a soft yellow glow. You could hear music and laughing further down the hall. Was it a club? It had to be a club.

“The best kept secret in all of the Lanes. Come.” Lou replied, dragging you through the hall until the space opened up to a larger room. It housed tables upon tables and a long bar nestled against one of the walls. Straight ahead was a stage, golden lights all around it and a deep red curtain obscuring whatever was behind it. More crystal chandeliers bathed the room in soft lighting, little lanterns on the tables gave it a cozy feel. The light bounced off the liquor bottles and sparkled. You were in awe. This place was beautiful. It looked like something that belonged in Piltover, with all the luxe details and expensive alcohol. No wonder Lou said it was a well kept secret.

She guided you over to the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools and motioning for you to sit beside her. You did, sliding onto one of the nicest stools you had ever had the pleasure of sitting on. The cushion was plush with no rips or tears and the legs weren’t wobbly in the slightest. The ones back at your bar were barely holding on, especially with all the fights that went on. People loved smashing them over other goons heads.

Lou ordered you both a gin and tonic, letting the bartender slide them down to you. You took yours with a nod, the bartender giving you a sly wink. He was cute, tall and broad with light brown hair and ice blue eyes with liner smudged around them. But not your type, for a multitude of reasons. The main one being that he’s a guy and well, you’re not into guys.

The lights suddenly dimmed even more, leaving only the little lanterns and the stage lights to provide a bit of a glow. You turned to face the stage just as the curtains were raised, drink in hand. Women were spread out all across the stage in skimpy, sparkly outfits. Their makeup and hair done up to the nines. Music bloomed through the speakers as their bodies started to move tandem with one another. Hands touched and felt. Legs moved and kicked. It was captivating; how well they moved with one another. It reminded you how much you used to loved to dance and how badly you sometimes wanted to pick it back up. But you knew you could never be this good, this was leagues above from your almost non-existent skill.

The whole time they were dancing you were in total awe, glass in your hand completely forgotten. It’s a total wonder you hadn’t dropped it, with the way you were so transfixed on the stage. Your mouth had parted a bit, just taking in the absolute extravagance of what you were watching. You didn’t even notice a figure coming up and sitting beside Lou, both of them talking in hushed tones and sneaking glances at you.

After a few more minutes the performance ended. You fumbled to set your glass on the counter and stand, clapping loudly as the curtains were drawn. A few people glanced at you but you honestly didn’t care, this was one of the best things you had ever seen. Ever. They deserved all the praise and more in your eyes.

A low chuckle coming from behind you broke your stupor. You dropped your hands and turned around, looking to Lou and then noticing the brick house of a woman beside her. She had a deep glint in her eye, full dark lips set into a smirk. The first thing you noticed was definitely her height, she towered over you and almost everyone else around her. Her hair was cut just below her jaw, pulled back into a small half pony at the back of her head. Steel colored eyes and a blue-ish tinted scar running along the left side of her face and from her cheek down her neck and under the collar of her shirt. It looked like lightening. A deep colored cloak rested over her left shoulder, obscuring her arm from view. The second thing you noticed was how fucking hot she was. You sat back on the stool before you did something stupid, like your knees giving out.

“Like what you saw?” She spoke, her voice deep and smooth. It slithered down your spine and made you shiver.

“It was fantastic. Oh my god.” You replied, eyes lighting up at remembering what you just watched. The woman chuckled again, glancing down to Lou. “Introduce me?” She asked.

Lou perked up, getting a mischievous look in her eye that you knew so well. She was up to something, you felt it. “Oh! Sevika, this is my best friend of many, many years. She used to be a dancer, you know?”

“So I’ve heard.”

You spluttered, looking at Lou incredulously. “I haven’t danced in years, Lou!” Lou laughed, throwing her head back with a snort. “C’mon, babe. Sevika here is in desperate need of another dancer and I promised her I had the perfect girl for the job.”

“Do you own this place?” You questioned, glancing at the woman you now know was named Sevika. It was a bit off topic for the conversation at hand, but you couldn’t figure out why she needed another dancer. Unless she owned the place or something.

A small part of you were upset that Lou only dragged you here because she had something up her sleeve. But another part of you couldn’t help but desperately want to be up there in those gorgeous outfits. It would be like a dream come true.

Sevika hummed, nodding slightly, “I do,” she paused, signaling the bartender for a drink. “Your friend here is right, I need another dancer. One of the girls recently had a baby and we need someone to fill her position. It would be permanent, she has no plans of returning.” another pause, a glint in her eye as she took a drink of the dark liquid in her glass. “And I do think Lou was right, you’d be perfect for the job.”

Sevika’s eyes roamed your body, pausing at the swell of your breasts and the softness of your hips and thighs. You squirmed under her gaze, feeling like she could see straight through your clothing with those piercing eyes.

“I… I haven’t danced in years. And never anything like-like this,” you waved your hand towards the stage to make a point, sighing exasperatedly. Sevika chuckled, pulling a cigar from under her cloak and placing it between her lips. “Practice, darling. Be here tomorrow night, five-thirty. Sharp.” She said with a finality to her tone, lighting the cigar and blowing smoke through her nose before turning and walking away. You sat in a stunned silence, head snapping to Lou when your senses came back.

“What the fuck was that, Lou?” You snapped, eyes narrowing.

Lou sighed, looking at you pensively for a moment. “I know how much you hate working in the bar. And I can tell how much you miss dancing and doing something you actually like. I’ve been friends with Sevika for years and when she told me one of her girls quit I just knew I had to get you in.”

You listened intently, mouth going to a frown for a second before you flung yourself at your friend and hugged her tightly. At first you were mad, but now you’re overwhelmed with emotions. Good ones, mostly. It upset you with how they went about this, but in the end you didn’t really mind. You had a chance to live your dream. “I fucking hate you. But thank you. I won’t fuck this up.”

“Love you too, babe. You’re gonna do great,” Lou hugged you back, kissing your temple and smiling. “Oh, and by the way. Sevika was totally into you.” You pulled away from the embrace, opening your mouth to speak but Lou held a finger in front of lips with a grin and pointed to the stage. Another number was starting. Damn her.

-

You showed up the next day, exactly at five thirty as you were told. Sevika lead you to the back with a firm, yet gentle hand on your elbow. She showed you backstage, introduced you to the others, and gave you a vanity. Complete with lights and everything.

Practices were grueling, multiple hours a day until your feet were so sore you could barely stand. You had been fitted for costumes, given the ones you wore most often on their own rack while the special ones hung on a rack towards the back of the room. At first the costumes were incredibly uncomfortable, hell, they’re still uncomfortable. But getting to feel like you were a piece of art was well worth the expense of your ribs and ass.

It was a month before they allowed you on stage, and even then it was a pretty small performance compared to many of the others. Though you didn’t mind, you fed off the energy for two days - whole body thrumming with electricity.

It took even longer for the others to accept you, they weren’t outright hostile but you could tell you weren’t their favorite. One night they had all went out and didn’t invite you, leaving you at your vanity to plunder with your makeup. You sighed, picking up an eyeliner brush and trying to a make a wing but being unable to. You weren’t the best at makeup, never having the luxury of owning any when you were younger. You had picked up what you saw from Lou and a few other people at the bar.

A stool scraped behind you, causing you to jump and turn to see what -or who- it was. It was Sevika, chuckling at you.

“Need help with that?“ she asked, scooting a bit closer to you. You looked at her dumbfounded for a moment, wondering how she was going to help.

“I know it looks like I wouldn’t know much about this kind of stuff, but trust me.”

You laughed quietly, nodding and handing her your eyeliner and brush. She took it with the hand not hidden by her cloak, smiling. “I know I’m scary, and a brute but I promise I’m not that bad. My days of being that kind of woman are over.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, closing your eyes while she began to work her magic.

“Used to work for Silco. Hurt a lot of people, killed a lot of people. All because I wanted the Lanes to be better,” she paused, concentrating on getting your eyeliner even. “But I soon realized it’ll never get better. This… this is my whole life now. Giving people a small slice of something nice down here.”

“That’s… wow… that’s favorable? I guess. It’s good that you care. That’s more than most people can say.” You replied, reaching out, settling a hand on her knee with a light squeeze. Her breath hitched in her throat but she quickly covered it with a cough.

“Yeah.” She hummed, laying down the eyeliner and picking up a lipstick from your vanity. Gently she dabbed it on your lips, using her finger to even it out. A shiver ran through you at the contact, wanting more, wanting to lean into it. “All done. You look beautiful.”

Your could feel your cheeks get warm at the compliment as you turned to look into the mirror. Your makeup was flawless, Sevika having done an amazing job. “I bet you say that to all the girls,” you replied, turning to look at her again with a happy smile. She huffed a single laugh, shaking her head. “Do I look like someone who says that often?”

“No.”

“Then there’s your answer,” Sevika said, standing from her stool and moving behind you, she squeezed your shoulder and lent down to place a fleeting kiss to your temple. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that she was gone, disappearing up to the stairs to her office.

You sat stone still for a bit after she left, replaying the whole interaction in your head a hundred times over. Had she really called you beautiful? And kissed you? She seemed like such a hard woman, always shouting orders giving the vendors a hard time. You never imagined that she could actually be… sweet.

But then again, everyone was different behind closed doors.

-

It took another month for more to come out of your last true conversation with Sevika. You’d of course steal glances at her when you saw her and she’d do the same. Every time you performed her eyes stayed glue to you, making you feel like you were made of glass. She’d purposely walk past you and graze your shoulder with her arm, causing all the other girls to wonder if something was going on.

Other times she wouldn’t dare look at you, moving behind people and racks just so she could avoid you. It pissed you off. She was so hot and cold and you had no fucking clue why.

All of that finally came to a head one day when you were sent to Sevika’s office to discuss a new routine idea. You and the others had worked on it for weeks - after they decided they liked you and accepted you into the family - planning every little detail and outfit and song choice. According to them they haven’t had a new number in years and it was time to spice things up.

They had all agreed that you should tell Sevika, knowing you were her favorite but never saying that aloud. They giggled and gently pushed you towards the stairs, pressing a folder to your chest with lots of cheeky smiles. You hadn’t even got to change from your stage outfit, a thin sheen of sweat covering your chest and the rhinestones itching your ass and sides.

Slowly, you made your way up the spiral staircase and to Sevika’s office. The doors looked like stained glass butterfly wings, greens and violets glinting in the low light. You steeled yourself with a deep breath, knuckles rapping at the door a few times.

“Not now, Miguel. I’m busy.” Sevika’s muffled voice carried through the door. A bout of courage soared through your chest, taking a breath and pushing open the door slowly. You hadn’t been in her office before, but it was visually stunning. Like every other room in this place. A large wooden desk sat directly ahead of you, a plush high-backed chair that Sevika currently sat in. To the left was a table and couch, purple velvet with tufting along the back. A golden stained glass window behind the desk framed Sevika in a halo of warm light. The walls were a deep burgundy, two sconces on each wall illuminating the room. Along with another crystal chandelier above your head. A gramophone was tucked into the corner beside the couch, records in a crate beside it. You didn’t have enough time to take in more before Sevika’s voice broke you from your stupor.

“Damnit! I said I’m busy, Miguel. Whatever the hell it is can wa-” the word died in her throat once she finally looked up and saw you. You smiled sheepishly, noticing that her signature cloak was gone and under it was a beautifully crafted prosthetic arm made of golden metal with details of green. It looked more like a piece of art rather than a functioning part of her body. It seemed as if she was working on it, an array of tiny screwdrivers and wrenches laid out on the desk. One in her hand twisting something along her prosthetics forearm while a cigarillo was perched between her lips. How had you never noticed that she has a prosthetic arm? But you supposed that’s what the clock was for, as not to draw attention.

“Sorry… I-I can go,” you spluttered quickly, holding the folder tight to your chest like it would save you from Sevika’s wrath. She looked at you for a moment from under her lashes, steel eyes boring into your soul before she leaned back in her chair. She tossed the screwdriver on the desk, regarding you with her full attention as she took a long drag of her cigarillo.

“No, stay. What do you need?“

You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment, stepping closer and opening the folder as you laid it flat on her desk. You decided not to mention her arm, in fear it might upset her more. “The others and I, we’ve been talking about a new number. They said it’s been years since they’ve done anything new. We uh, we’ve got it all planned out. Routines, costumes, song choices. We just, well, we need your permission. And the costumes, of course.”

A deep hum vibrated from Sevika’s chest, eyes roaming the expanse of papers you had fanned out across the wood. “And who’s going to be the lead?”

“Sammi. Probably. They’ve been here longest, everyone likes them.”

“I want you to be the lead.”

“What? Why me?” You practically shrieked, eyebrows shooting up your forehead. Sevika stood, rounding her desk and walking around you, causing you to follow until your lower back was plastered against her desk. “Because I said so. That a problem?” Her demeanor had changed from the last time you were alone together. You couldn’t tell if it unsettled you or turned you on. Maybe both.

You stared up at her, mouth hanging open slightly. “Yes. What if I fuck it up? You know I’m not as good as Sammi! Or anyone else for that matter!” You voice rose in volume, a sudden wave of confidence made your back straighten. Sevika rose her eyebrows, taking a drag from her cigarillo and blowing the smoke in your face. She laughed, sounding like it came from the deepest part of her chest.

“I never realized you had such a mouth on you.”

“I’m tired of whatever this is,” you waved your hand between the two of you, sighing heavily, “you’re so hot and cold. One minute you can’t keep your eyes off of me and the next you avoid me like the fucking plague and then, you want me to be lead in a new number. What gives?” The emotions you had been holding in finally boiled over, you stared Sevika down and held your ground. She huffed, giving you a look you couldn’t decipher before grabbing your waist with her non-prosthetic hand and pulling you close. She let the cigarillo fall to the ground, stubbing it out with her boot. God, she looked handsome when she was mad. Full lips curved into a snarl before they pressed to yours in a biting kiss. It took you much too long to even comprehend what was going on. It was electric, tingles shooting all throughout your body as you slumped against her and wrapped your arms around her broad shoulders.

The kiss continued for what felt like eons, Sevika tasted like expensive liquor and tobacco. A faint bit of honeyed candy lingering as well. It was intoxicating, leaving you weak. If it wasn’t for her firm hold you certainly would’ve fell to the floor by now. And yet all too soon she pulled away, eyes piercing through your own. “What was that?” You asked, breathing heavily into the space between the two of you. The dance number had completely been forgotten.

“A mistake. You do things to me. Fuck. I can’t… we can’t do this.” You shoved her away, glaring, “and why not? It’s clear we want this.” hoping your sudden onslaught of emotions weren’t completely obvious to the woman in front of you. You had wanted her terribly, though you hadn’t ever really given yourself time to think on it and now it’s crept upon you like shark-infested waters. The realization making you weak.

Sevika looked so handsome like this, her lips a shade darker from the kiss you two just shared, scar pulsating to her heartbeat. You hadn’t even noticed it did that before. Her eyes wild, minutely moving back and forth as she looked at you. Lips parted, showing off the little gap in her front teeth. Something about it softened her hard features. “I’ve actually never been with someone before. Just sex. I don’t want just sex with you. You deserve more than that.”

You frowned, moving closer once more and touching her scarred cheek. Her confession helping you make sense of her constant changing attitude towards you, “show me then. I can show you, too. You deserve good things, Sevika.” you kissed the side of her mouth gently, “Let me come home with you tonight. I’ll make us dinner, like a proper date. Have you ever been on a proper date?” Sevika shakes her head, her big bad demeanor completely disappearing. “Well that changes. We’re doing this right.”

A knock sounds at the door, sharp and quick, causing you both to jump away from each other. A head pokes in, Sammi, looking between you and Sevika, eyes narrowing at your disheveled state. “Time to go, babe. Next number in five.” With that they closed the door, their footsteps receding down the hall. You let out a shaky laugh, hand going to run through your hair.

“Meet me up here when you’re ready to leave. Now go, before the others get suspicious.”

“They already are,” you laugh, pressing a fleeting kiss to Sevika’s mouth, “Sammi has already told everyone what they saw.”

Sevika groaned, her fingers squeezing your waist before letting you go. You smiled once more; grabbing your papers and disappearing out the door.

-

The rest of the night flew by, your chest buzzing with anticipation and excitement at meeting with Sevika. She stayed hidden in her office for the last few numbers, but you didn’t mind. You knew that were going to see her soon enough and that was plenty to fuel you on. The others keep sneaking glances at you, the permanent smile on your face. You knew they wanted to ask what happened up, if anything at all happened beside the number being approved. But they didn’t and you were grateful. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to keep the secret if they did ask.

After the last number you scrambled to change out of your costume, pulling on your normal jeans and t-shirt so fast it’s a wonder you didn’t accidentally rip them. You weren’t sure why though, you wanted to sit and wait until everyone else left so they didn’t see you go upstairs to Sevika’s office. You weren’t sure if she wanted anyone to know. You yourself didn’t even know if this would work out, it might not. It might be a one off thing and never happen again. Maybe you both aren’t cut out for more than just colleagues. Though you hoped that wasn’t the case.

Soon enough everyone filtered out, yelling their goodbyes as they went downstairs. Immediately after the last persons head disappeared, you stood, turning off your vanity lights and grabbing your bag. You went back upstairs, knocking at the beautiful office doors once before letting yourself in. Sevika sat on her couch this time, legs crossed with a fresh cigarillo between her real fingers as an ashtray was held in her other hand. She looked up when you walked in, eyes softening the slightest bit. “How was your night?”

“Good. Are you ready to get out of here?” You replied, smiling and rolling on the balls of your feet. Sevika nodded, stubbing her cigarillo out in the ashtray and setting it on the ornate table in front of her. She stood, stretching her arms above her head. You couldn’t help but to glance at the bare skin of her torso, mouth suddenly dry. She let her arms fall back to her side, grabbing her cloak off the back of the couch and fastening it around her neck. You watched her, hands wringing in front of you nervously as she grabbed her keys and motioned for you to leave out the door in front of her.

The walk to her place was quiet, yet comfortable. Sevika held your hand, eyes roaming over all the less than favorable stalls on the way to her place. She made sure you were placed just the tiniest bit behind her, so her body would be first in case some dumbass decided tonight was the night they wanted to start something. Luckily nothing of the sort happened, the walk uneventful. Fingers left yours as she unlocked her apartment door, pushing it open with her foot and holding out her hand as a signal for you to enter first. You did with a small smile, stepping into the center of her home and taking it all in.

Her place wasn’t as big as you thought, especially since you knew she raked in a pretty penny from the club. But it was homey, with an open floor plan and mindless clutter. It wasn’t messy or dirty though, an organized clutter that reminded you too much of your own place. A kitchen nook sat off to the left corner, worn kettle sitting on the stove. A set of table and chairs in the empty space beside the kitchen. To the right was a door, presumedly a bathroom but you couldn’t be sure. Her bed sat against the right wall, blankets and pillows tussled like she hadn’t made it in awhile. A couch sat at the foot of the bed, the leather of it looked soft like it had been used for a long time. A metal coffee table sat to the front of the couch, an ashtray sitting precariously on the edge. Papers were strewn across it, too, some looked to be bills and others looked to be newspapers. A couple books were stacked on the edge, pages curling from being read so much. A small tool kit sat on the table as well, open, but all the tools looked to be present.

Directly across from the couch was a window, curtain drawn halfway to reveal the prettiest view of the lanes you had ever seen. All the neon lights mingling and casting a glow into Sevika’s apartment. You hadn’t ever really thought the lanes could be pretty, with all the crime and corruption going on down here. But here… above it all. It had some sort of semblance of beauty that comforted you. It was your home after all.

“I don’t know that I have enough food to make anything decent… I may have to stop by the food stalls sometime soon if not.” Sevika spoke, closing the door behind her. She hung her keys and cloak on a hook by the door, rolling her shoulders. You turned to face her, smiling gently as you took her organic hand into yours. She noticed your bag still on your shoulder, taking it with her other hand and hanging it on the hook along with her things.

“Thank you,” you smiled, stepping a bit closer, ”and that’s okay. I’m sure I can figure something out. I used to cook for me and Lou all the time when we lived together.” Sevika hummed, squeezing your hand just the tiniest bit.

“You’re free to see what you can find. I’ll get out some dishes.”

“Okay,” you replied, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek and letting go of her hand. You were kind of surprised she was going to let you have free reign of her kitchen, in your mind she seemed like the type of person who wanted to control everything. No matter how small.

[raitrolling]

(Previous parts: part 1, part 2)

“That is P6, Sharle. P6.”

Prozit’s usual calm tone was somehow even more devoid of emotion as Sharle crossed the finish line.

He knew. They all knew. The team had let their driver down.

Just one mistake - one wheel nut that had been fastened incorrectly at the start of the race, which then caused difficulties removing the tyre during the pit stop - was all it took for Sharle to lose a win that otherwise would have been guaranteed. 

The blueblood had tried everything he could to climb back up to his rightful position, but there was simply nothing doing. Fifth place was much too far ahead for him to ever get a chance to catch up, and he’d built up enough for a gap from seventh place that he didn’t have to worry about defending his position.

An entire hour, stuck in no man’s land, driving in circles around the track waiting for it to finally end. He’d vented out all his anger over the radio communications the lap after the blunder had occurred. He didn’t feel angry anymore. He just felt hollow.

Sharle did not respond to his engineer. 

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

“Sharle! Is everything okay?”

Ropikk raced down the pit lane as fast as her legs could carry her to meet the blueblood as he exited the weighing station.

Sharle stared in surprise while Ropikk paused to catch her breath, and then nodded in response.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he replied, plainly.

The jadeblood squinted, not believing him for a second.

“No, it’s not fine. I can see it on your face. I’m- The team is really sorry about what happened. I know nothing is going to make up for it, and you deserved that win, but- Hey!” Her sympathetic tone was interrupted by an indignant squeak as Sharle started to walk away. “The media pen is the other way, you know you have to do those or we’ll get fined!”

The blueblood stopped, then briefly turned back to look at her. She could see the weariness of his dead-eyed gaze, as if hundreds of laps worth of races over the sweeps had finally caught up to him and the utter exhaustion had hit him all at once. 

He grit his teeth, and turned away again.

“I can’t. I’m going home.” He shook his head, voice strained from barely holding back what remained of his emotions.

Ropikk grimaced and clutched the clipboard in her hands tightly. She felt torn between the professionalism of being his manager and demanding he fulfil his media duties, and the sympathy of seeing someone she cherished so deeply look so utterly wrecked.

The jadeblood bit her lip, then nodded.

“I’ll let Mansel know.” 

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

“Yeah, I mean twelfth place ain’t the best, but given that we started fourteenth I think that’s the best result I was gonna get. Overtaking on this track is real hard, especially when you have all us backmarkers bunched up in a DRS train, so not much I could have done.” 

Tira shrugged, leaning casually on the barrier of the media pen as reporters shoved microphones in his face and asked the same questions over and over again. 

Usually these were much more exciting when he had finished in a point-scoring position, but those… Had not been happening as often as he’d liked this season. Now every single interviewer only wanted to hear about how much he’s struggling and if he feels like his time in Formula One is coming to an end, given that his contract expires at the end of the sweep. 

But, despite his frustrations at getting constantly reminded of his shortcomings, the tealblood had to smile and laugh his way through it all, as he was trained to do.

“Alright, next question,” the journalist said, now looking a little more concerned. “We’ve heard that your teammate Sharle Casini has refused to attend the post-race interviews. We’re sure he’s disappointed about the outcome, what do you think is going through his mind right now?”

The tealblood’s face fell, stunned.

“Huh? Nah, nah, you must be mistaken, Sharlie- sorry, Casini never misses these things,” Tira responded with a PR-friendly grin, then turned to look at the rest of the drivers in the pen.

Sure enough, the falcon troll was absent.

“Huh, damn. Shit must be real serious.” The tealblood was bewildered, but then sighed and shook his head. He knew that by the time the allotted hour for media interviews was over, Sharle would be long gone.

“But really though, can you blame him?”

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

Sharle had managed to keep it together as he walked away from the circuit, side-stepping media crews and security, not acknowledging a single person.

He supposed it was fortunate that this was his home race, meaning he could walk straight to his apartment without any obstacles in his way.

And as soon as he closed the front door behind him, he slumped against it before slowly sliding to the floor, and sobbed.

[bonesandthebees]

Don’t mind me skipping back and forth though the fight, but I just noticed another switch: [The Pythia knew he should be trying to get back to the palace by any means necessary.

But Wilbur couldn’t bring himself to go. ] this just about sums up the entire struggle. There are two identities inside Wilbur's head. What he’s been told to be and what he actually is. What he’s supposed to want and what he actually wants. And those things are so far apart that he has to conpartimalise them as different beings: The Pythia and Wilbur. Also, I feel like it’s intentional that every time he says he’s empty or not a person, it’s just pronouns. Neither of the names. The rest of the fight swings back between Pythia and pronouns, which could just be regular writing.

This is another nice contrast: [“You don’t have any fucking right to talk badly about Her.”

Tommy pushed to his feet. “Maybe I don’t, but you do, Wilbur.”

Gritting his teeth, the Pythia stood up so he and Tommy were face to face.] Tommy uses Wilbur’s name a lot during this fight. It’s part of his, you are a person message. But this time it has the opposite effect. Wilbur doubles down more and more into being the Pythia. There’s a few of these throughout the fight.

Also, a huge part of this fight is how confident Tommy is that Wilbur is a person (which fair, he’s right), but both of them are stubborn in their respective lanes. I think the problem is that Tommy’s pushing just a smidge too far. Just a bit further than Wilbur is ready or willing to go. And the result is heavy pushback. And the more they push the more they want to hurt. It’s Wilbur’s defense mechanism. When he wants to be left alone he aims to hurt. We’ve seen him do it with Niki also the way back during the football game and now he’s doing it to Tommy.

I’m also pretty certain he wasn’t going for the ‘thinms he knows better’ not at first anyway. [“And you know me so well? Is that it?” The Pythia jeered.

Instead of flinching back like the Pythia expected him to, Tommy stepped forward so the two of them were eye to eye.] Wilbur was originally going for how well Tommy know him. Trying to make him question. But Tommy’s unwavering confidence that he does know Wilbur best gets in the way. So Wilbur changes tactics. He calls out Tommy on wanting to feel special. But that doesn’t really work either. And than Wilbur ofhandly calls Tommy stupid. Which does stick so he pivots into calling out his incompetence and accidentally ends up at Jack. Which clearly hits cuz it gets Tommy to shut up for the first time.

(6/?)

-🌲

OKAY BACK TO ANSWERING ASKS ABOUT CH 16

yup those two lines summed up a lot. the pythia being his duty, what he's supposed to do, and wilbur wanting something else. as I'm sure you can tell I seriously have way too much fun playing around with how i refer to wilbur in the narration. it's always a conscious choice when I'm using pythia or wilbur or just pronouns, and it really helps me stay in wilbur's head as I'm writing. it keeps me aware of his mental state at all times.

tommy is never going to stop trying to convince wilbur he's a person, and the easiest way to do that is to constantly use his name. force him to confront that he has an identity outside of being the pythia whether he wants it or not. so of course when he's pissed, these reminders only serve to push him in the other direction.

the issue with wilbur is that even though yes, tommy is pushing too far and too fast, that's the dynamic they've built. tommy started using wilbur's name way before he was ready for it, but it forced him forward. it worked last time, so of course tommy's going to try pushing too far again. which of course leads to backlash, but it does get wilbur to start confronting things he's been hiding from for too long now. it's not a healthy way to go about things and certainly causes wilbur a lot of stress, but it's how wilbur and tommy bounce off of each other.

and yup, when wilbur really wants someone to back the fuck off, he tries to hurt them. he tries to make tommy question himself even though he knows damn well tommy knows him better than anyone else. but tommy knows that too, so it doesn't work. so yeah, the only foothold wilbur could really find in the argument to upset tommy was by bringing up the jack situation again. yes, it was a dirty move, but he's lashing out in any way he can.

[reasonsforhope]

Holy shit it's real.

--

From the first linked source:

"The US government aims to restore sweeping regulations for high-speed internet providers such as AT&T, Comcast and Verizon, reviving “net neutrality” rules for the broadband industry — and an ongoing debate about the internet’s future.

The proposed rules from the Federal Communications Commission will designate internet service — both the wired kind found in homes and businesses as well as mobile data on cellphones — as “essential telecommunications” akin to traditional telephone services, said FCC Chairwoman Jessica Rosenworcel. The rules would ban internet service providers (ISPs) from blocking or slowing down access to websites and online content.

In addition to the prohibitions on blocking and throttling internet traffic, the draft rules also seek to prevent ISPs from selectively speeding up service to favored websites or to those that agree to pay extra fees, Rosenworcel said, a move designed to prevent the emergence of “fast lanes” on the web that could give some websites a paid advantage over others.

With Tuesday’s proposal, the FCC aims to restore Obama-era regulations that the FCC under Republican leadership rolled back during the Trump administration...

The logic behind the rules

Beyond their immediate impact to internet providers, the draft rules directly help US telecom regulators address a range of consumer issues in the longer run by allowing the FCC to bring its most powerful legal tools to bear, Rosenworcel said. Some of the priorities the FCC could address after the implementation of net neutrality rules include spam robotexts, internet outages, digital privacy and high-speed internet access, said Rosenworcel in a speech at the National Press Club Tuesday to announce the proposal.

Rosenworcel said reclassifying internet service providers as essential telecommunications entities — by regulating them under Title II of the FCC’s congressional charter — would provide the FCC with clearer authority to adopt future rules governing everything from public safety to national security.

Rosenworcel argued, “without reclassification, the FCC has limited authority to incorporate updated cybersecurity standards into our network policies.”

She added that traditional telephone companies currently cannot sell customer data, but those restrictions do not apply to ISPs, which are regulated differently. “Does that really make sense? Do we want our broadband providers selling off where we go and what we do online?”

Regulating internet providers using the most powerful tools at the FCC’s disposal would let the agency crack down harder on spam robotexts, Rosenworcel said, as spammers are “constantly evolving their techniques.”

And the proposed rules could promote the Biden administration’s agenda to blanket the country in fast, affordable broadband, she argued, by granting internet providers the rights to put their equipment on telephone poles.

“As a nation we are committed, post-pandemic, to building broadband for all,” she said. “So keep in mind that when you construct these facilities, utility poles are really important.”

Timeline info

The FCC plans to vote Oct. 19 on whether to advance the draft rules by soliciting public feedback on them — a step that would precede the creation of any final rules."

The latest net neutrality rulemaking reflects one of the most visible efforts of Rosenworcel’s chairwomanship — and one of her first undertakings since the US Senate this month [September 2023] confirmed Anna Gomez as the agency’s fifth commissioner, breaking a years-long 2-2 partisan deadlock at the FCC that had prevented hot-button initiatives from moving forward.

The draft rules also show how a continued lack of federal legislation to establish a nationwide net neutrality standard has led to continued flip-flopping rules for ISPs with every change of political administration, along with a patchwork of state laws seeking to fill the gap.

If approved next month, the FCC draft would be opened for public comment until approximately mid-December, followed by an opportunity for public replies lasting into January. A final set of rules could be voted on in the months following.

-via CNN, September 26, 2023

--

Cannot overstate how big this would be. I'll be posting the link when the proposal opens up for public feedback, because we should flood this thing as hard as we can (we've got some giant internet companies to drown out, after all)

source 1

source 2

[merimihajar]

Here and now

Everything was always well calculated. Perfectly planned. She has always been one step ahead. Harsh, mostly painful, decisions taken out of the blue,no explanation nor a single clue, yet always on time. No regrets, no strings attached, constantly solving matters of the heart like a crime. And there she is, sitting in a dark room by herself. A cozy Airbnb, some random Netflix series playing in the back while she’s starring at an abandoned bookshelf. A joint in her hand, air filled with smoke and a heady mix of flesh and sultry scent. Probably some other misfit that was never meant. Another mistake added to the list on « slurred thoughts and blurred vision » of every Friday night. She has always been right. She has always won the fight. She cut cords no matter how tight. A mind wise and heavy like stone but a heart oh so light. Always sober never needed an escape. Always conscious hardly ever loose on the grip. Yet here she is, running away from the past. Wrapping blissful poison around her heart like a cast. Wondering for how long this excruciating pain will last? How did this all escalated so fast? How come he is now so far, he which has always been her blast? Her phone in her hand, his name on her screen, and an empty album that once held memories, to the eyes, a true entertain. A trip down memory lane? A moment of silence upon times she lost and will never regain. Looking into the void, lingering over these cursed feelings she wished could no longer maintain. A quiet conversation with a stoned ego barely holding up the bargain. She was solid in the face of brokenness, but now she can hardly sustain. Oh! What a true shame! thinking to herself, to throw all those years down the drain. Two or luckily three more drags left on that blissful wrapped poison she’s dearly holding in her hands. Her body filled with thirst for him, his touch, his smell, his warmth, his heavy breath around her soul like mending bands. Wishing he was the one she’s holding instead, here and now, while he’s exploring her lands. Hoping he’s there somewhere, barely sober and feeling the same. Putting that cigarette away, ready for bed, and laughing to herself, how lame!

- Hajar Merimi

[spainkitty]

Choosing an Alliance

tw: death, grief, the Chargers Choice

Lanil's Pieces Masterlist

Lavellan watched Iron Bull walk away. He had smiled at her, thanked her. There had been approval in his words in the end. Relief lightened a burden she hadn't even realized was on her shoulders.

He was staying.

He didn't hate her.

He invited her to mourn them with him.

She turned back to where his Qunari brazier had sat. Touched the stone. Was it warm from the fire he'd burnt, or from a day's worth of sunlight?

The relief didn't last long. Too overwhelmed by regret. Regret she wasn't more ashamed. That she didn't mourn more. Regret that she cared more that an alliance stood than that good people she'd liked, had sung with and danced with, had died.

Because of her choice.

Her fingers curled into a fist. She inhaled. Exhaled.

Inhaled. Exhaled.

Shuddered.

Inhaledexhaled--No, that was too fast.

Dalish. Grim. Skinner. Stitches. Rocky.

Krem.

Her breath hitched.

Inhale. Exhale.

With her eyes closed, she could see the cliff. The rain pouring down. Bright heavy armor in the grass. The empty chair in Herald's Rest.

Inhaleexhaleinhaleexhale.

"FUCK!"

She slammed her fist down on the wall. Let the stone bruise her hand, hoping it bruised all the way to the bone. She backed up, away from where the Iron Bull had said his last goodbyes. She hadn't deserved to stand next to him. She didn't deserve to stand there now. Her back hit stone and slowly, so slowly, she slid down.

She didn't know how long she sat there, hands hanging loosely between her knees, head back so she could stare hard at the sky. Eyes dry. Eyes dry. A single thought circling her mind over and over and over.

She didn't need a demon possessing her to be a monster.

Stars were out when footsteps stopped rushing away at the sight of her. Instead a single set of heavy steps, shod in metal, cracked on stone towards her. She didn't look his way. He'd say something or go.

It didn't matter.

He did neither and she could barely feel the stirring of surprise.

His back slid down stone, and she winced at the horrible sound of metal screeching.

"Sorry," he muttered. He all but fell to his ass the rest of the way down, letting out a quiet oof as his body thudded on stone.

She wanted to smile. But it felt fake. Like it belonged on another face.

"I've come to you with so many problems. You've had... so much faith in me, so many times. I'm realizing now, I haven't returned the favor very often. Not often enough."

Lavellan closed her eyes.

Inhaled. Exhaled.

He reached out and tentatively touched the back of her hand.

With a desperation that reminded her of clutching at that tree months and months ago, she grabbed at his hand. Clutched it tight enough the metal bit into her slender fingers and the mark on her palm ached. Unlike the tree, Cullen clutched back. Entwined their fingers and held on.

"How are you, Lane?"

She gritted her teeth, bared them like a rabid animal. She wanted to snarl at such a stupid question. But words came out instead, whispering and quaking and torn from her like pulling barbed thorns from her skin.

"I'm scared. I'm so scared of failing. I'm so scared I already have. I failed him. I failed them." Her head thudded against the stone wall behind her. "Is this who I am? I watched them die, Cullen. Collateral damage in a war. That's all they were. They were... I knew their names. I knew their stories. And I let them die."

"This is war, Lane. The responsibility you have... none of us have as much. There are so many people depending on you, and they were mercenaries, soldiers. They knew their duty and what it could mean."

Dully, she turned her head, met his too soft gaze. Too understanding. Too kind. Is this why she liked him? Why she constantly craved his company? Because he had all the kindness she lacked?

"Would you have done it? Would you have saved the dreadnought, or would you have saved your soldiers? Your friends?" She spat the last word like a curse.

She was no one’s friend. She was the Inquisitor. How many more "friends" would she sacrifice on her path to power?

"I can't answer that."

His hand pulled away from hers, and she felt her heart break. She barely kept the plea behind her teeth: don't leave. don't leave me.

He wasn't leaving, though. She should've known; this was Cullen. Cullen never walks away. He pulled one glove off, then the other, and set them aside. Both hands cupped her face, warm and alive and flesh. She shuddered and released a breath that sounded like a sob.

His hands felt like forgiveness.

His forehead touched hers, a gentle bump that had her lips curving upwards. Shaky. Small.

"All of us believe in you. In what you're doing and what you're accomplishing. You are changing the world for the better. I truly believe that no one else could be as able to do this as you. You are, however, only one woman. You will make mistakes and you will regret and people will die. And I will be here for you. Always, Lane. I will always have faith in you."

They finally came then. Pouring out of her like a child's wail without a sound. Silent, painful, sobbing tears. She hadn't allowed them. Hadn't allowed herself grief. She hadn't had the right to it.

Until Cullen had taken on her burden, for just a moment, and believed for her. She didn't have to have faith in herself, for Bull, for the Chargers, for everyone in the fucking world. She could just be broken while Cullen held her pieces together.

She held onto his hands still cupping her face. Held on as tight as she could as she shook and trembled and sobbed. They only moved when he pulled her closer to him, both arms enveloping her, bear fur soaked with tears and snot, and her fingers buried in it at his back. Holding on for dear life.

And she finally said goodbye to the people she hadn't saved.

[miyosmagines]

Dating Jennifer Check

- Oh boy, you totally scored with Jennifer.

- Jennifer is definitely a ride or die kinda girl. She falls hard and fast. She is also sure about her attractions. If she likes you, she likes you.

- Defiantly styles you. She’ll style your outfits, help you with your hair and make up, and lend you her clothes and accessories. Overtime you two get to the point in your relationship where you’re not sure whose sock or whose earing is whose. She doesn’t mind though.

- Loves to show you off in public. She is incredibly proud of her s/o and wants everyone and their mother to know it. When you’re in public she’s constantly touching you, kissing you, sweet talking you, and bragging about you to anyone who will listen.

- She loves physical affection. As soon as you two are in private, her hot nonchalant popular girl persona is gone. She is all over you like white on rice. She’s kissing and hugging and cuddling you like there is no tomorrow. 

- She will raise hell if anyone offends you. The weird jock that keeps calling you names? Taken care of. The rude girl in your psychology class that criticizes that clothes you wear? Not a problem anymore. The weird crusty man who keeps hitting on you? Consider him taken care of.

- Jennifer will bring you little gifts. She basically lives for shopping so everytime she goes out, she’ll bring you back little gifts. She also makes note of little things you see interested for gift giving purposes.

- A majority of your dates take place outside of the house. Sometimes you go to Melody Lane to watch a live band or you go to a crappy house party or you go shopping at a near by mall, there is never a dull moment in your relationship.

- Jennifer is quite open with what she does. There are no secrets between you two in fact, you know everything she knows about anything. She doesn’t expect you to help her, but she will appreciate it. As long as you keep her secrets, everything is okay.

[realmofimagines]

Brains Over Brawn || Viktor - Arcane || Part Two ||

Summary: The 10 times Viktor Needed Her and the 1 Time he left. OR. Strong Idiot GF with anger issues is Vik’s Protector.

Pairing: Viktor x f!reader

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: none

PART 2 OF 10

Age was a curious thing, especially down in The Undercity. Quality of life was low and usually the general lifespan shortened as the years passed by. Many of the youths were forced to grow up far too quickly and their childlike sensibilities were ripped out from beneath them in a cruel twist of fate.

But not Ember, she remained as boisterous and curious as ever. Often seen with her good friend Viktor running amuck in whatever imaginary fantasy she made up.

The only problem was, she was spry and limber, being able to jump from rooftops or scale walls that were far too big for even her without a little quick thinking. She was fast paced and constantly on the move but Viktor remained, restricted in his movements by his leg.

This never stopped Ember though, she never felt as though the boy weighed her down by any means. In fact she would make a scene out of the situation, over dramatising things as if they were in a motion picture or farcical production. She would hoist the boy up and carry him around places if he struggled to keep up or complained.

He never complained but she always knew when his leg couldn't take anymore.

Despite it initially feeling undignifying for the boy, he eventually got over it. He was already the butt of the joke without Ember’s help and he knew that if anything were to surface that was malicious, she could handle it just fine. It was an odd juxtaposition, how rough and boyish she had been with almost everyone else in the Lanes but how delicate and gentle she was with him.

It was endearing.

Not to mention her imagination was one of the most fascinating things — Viktor, ever the pragmatic mind, couldn't help but look on with awe at how the girl pulled something from her mind and tried her hardest to describe the scene she could vividly see in her brain.

Even if she didn’t know the big words, Viktor was always there to help her find the right ones.

She still longed for adventure and longed to leave The Undercity, that much was clear and still remained etched into her brain. But for now she was still a kid, albeit just shy of her 12th birthday. Viktor had already begun to feel the effects of puberty as it seemed like each day he grew taller and taller.

Ember once was taller than him but over time he managed to catch up on height, signifying that he was only going to get taller and probably outgrow the girl. But she didn’t care.

Not even now, as she bounced off the walls of the little shack they claimed as their ‘haven’. It had various little inventions of Viktor’s making, crudely drawn maps of Embers ‘adventures’ and a collection of items the young girls' sticky fingers managed to remove from their homes because they looked treasure worthy.

She had been spewing on about some open sea adventure (she loved the ocean and the sea), a pan she attempted to bend into a helmet sat atop her head as she propped herself tall and proud off the grates in the wall. Like a pirate overseeing a vast open sea from a vantage point on their ship.

Viktor had been fondly working on one of his inventions, coyly sparing glances at the young girl. It shouldn’t be a surprise, in fact it’s completely natural to develop crushes but he still felt… guilty about it. It was a mixture of guilt and knowing that he was just in a different league compared to her, like he was just meant for someone else if there even was someone meant for him.

For now he was just happy to be around her, an absolute ray of sunshine in a cesspit they called home as he began to refer to her by.

His family were happy that there was someone to be his friend at least, and regardless of the knowledge that she was a street rat they welcomed her fully with open arms. Anything for the girl who kept their son safe.

“— one of these days you might injure yourself and then who will carry you then, hmm?” Viktor had probed, looking up at the girl through his eyelashes. For someone constantly in harm's way, she had an innate sense to come away unscathed for the most part.

“My super strong friend Viktor of course,” she joked, her grin lighting up the run down shack. She truly was a beacon of light. He felt almost blessed to have her in his life. With the push of her hind leg, she launched herself from the position was in on the wall, posing almost creature-like as she landed with a thud on the ground. The dust swirling around her figure and some of the ornaments she took jiggled in place on the nearby shelf.

She dusted her hands off and removed her ‘helmet’, “I think you worry too much Vik… Remember when I screwed up my ankle but I still outrunned those idiots.”

“Outran — past-tense but you're improving! Eh, Maybe you did it one time but that doesn’t mean you can do it every time.” He had completely stopped what he was doing to face her, the small aviation model he was working on ticked away aimlessly.

She rolled her eyes, "outran – whatever – the point is, I don't choke and those assholes can try to catch me all they want but they never will."

"They've caught you multiple times, actually."

"Yeah but they've never won, have they?" She countered, trying to ignore the fact that she had already accumulated many scars and bruising from her loud mouth and easily agitated attitude. Viktor always noticed, no matter how hard she tried to hide them away.

He smiled fondly at her, stretching out a hand to meet hers in comfort, "I don't think you understand how quickly things can change… I don't want anything bad to happen to you…" trailing off he turned his attention back to the aviation model on his desk and grinned at her, "we should test this one."

Her eyes lit up and she beamed at him, "you think it could fly?" The way he crafted things was beyond her comprehension, but she nonetheless would gather scrap metal for him and anything else he needed.

"I know it can fly – I just need to get a better spot to test the theory," he was so sure of himself that it warmed Ember's heart. He had come out of his shell so much since the two first met, he was much less quiet and reserved. Now much more talkative and there was something inside him that made him incredibly cocky that matched the little smirk he would get when he playfully jabbed at her.

"A little egg-ego– what's the word?" She stammered, brows furrowing in frustration as she tried to find the word.

"Egotistical?"

"Right! That's a little logistical of you don't you think?" She poked his arm, a dopey grin on her face that just made Viktor's heart swell. He was only 12 but he was sure that this girl had a hold on him emotionally and physically. He had to laugh, logistical, he never berated her for being less intelligent because she excelled in so many other places elsewhere.

He was slowly teaching her how to read and would always help her with big words but it was hard to keep her mind on track when she was always often somewhere in the clouds. Some minds weren't cut out for academics and that was completely and totally fine with him.

"I know a really good spot! But you have to trust me okay?" She bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet. The girl was what one could explain as a bulldozer in a china shop except for when it came to Viktor and his creations. He had never seen her act with more care or delicacy than when she was with him and his things.

"You know I do." He smiled at her, standing up from his position with the help of her firm grip. He stumbled only slightly, but she helped steady him and gestured to his creation and pointed to her rucksack that she had across her body.

In not so many words he nodded, passing her the creation with care trusting that she would keep it safe. She held onto it, staring intently which is what she did so often when holding his things. Like the more intense stare she had, meant she was less likely to drop it. Ever since the two became fast friends, the boy had taken to making his things a little more sturdier so they weren't as quick to break.

It was placed nicely inside her rucksack regardless and she stared at him with a lopsided grin while he steadied himself on his cane.

"You ready?" She bounced on the balls of her feet, her excitement warming his chest with endearment.

He nodded, offering a toothy grin as they set off on their small adventure.

Ember was always patient, walking in slow strides with Viktor despite knowing that she could be in places within the blink of an eye. This was the time where she would talk all about an adventure of hers that she'd be concocting.

She was on a long rant about pirates and treasure, just like in the books Viktor read to her and how that was exactly what she wanted to do when she got the chance. It wasn't childlike naivety either, he could very much see that becoming her lifestyle rather quickly.

That bummed him out immensely, feeling as though he was holding her back from that. He wasn't cut out for a life of adventure – even if he wasn't ill or rendered a 'cripple boy'. His mind was too much for such a simple lifestyle and science was his only answer. But at what cost would he choose to achieve that? Losing his best friend? Leaving her behind in pursuit of science?

He began stealing short glances at her as the two weaved through the lanes, passing by some familiar friendly faces. She truly was a beacon of light in a world that was seemingly so dark. He hadn't even noticed that they made the trek up to the higher parts of the city and were by the docks, he was far too engrossed in her and the story she didn't shut up about.  

When she came to a stop, he feared that she had noticed him staring and was going to say something but when her eyes met his she smiled fondly and then pointed up. His eyes followed the direction of her pointer finger and stared up at the lighthouse that was long gone to the elements but still stood menacingly, towering over the two kids.

"I found this place once and it can still hold!" She walked closer to the structure, giving it all her might to move it, as if she was proving to Viktor that even if she couldn't move it meant that it was sturdy enough.

He laughed at her attempt to move it, the building staying in one place and nothing moving under her force. "Okay okay — I believe you… but how did you get all the way up there?"

She turned to him and gave him what he could only describe as a cheeky smile, turning her back to him and kneeling down slightly. He knew what that meant immediately, urging him to sigh and shake his head.

"You're going to hurt yourself doing this one day," he chastised her, but still climbed into her back, wrapping his legs around her waist and arms around her neck. His cane now rests in one of the belt loops on her pants.

She stood up with ease and shifted his legs so that he had a better grip. "Vik, I'll be fine." She grinned, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze before finding the best exposed brick to begin her ascent up the structure.

It was a good thing neither were scared of heights, or doubted Embers strength because there might have been a few times as she scaled the side of the building where he could've sworn she was about to slip.

But she never did.

How impressive, truly, how she calculated what was a good and secure spot to jump to next. It was moments like this where Viktor praised her for being intelligent because in all honesty, she was. Book smart? Absolutely not. Street smart? That was up for debate. But she just knew and trusted herself enough to put herself in these precarious situations knowing that it was fine.

She hauled herself on the roof, arms shaking with adrenaline and pain as she managed to pull the two of them up that one final perch. The roof groaned under the sudden weight. Viktor just made his move off her back when the panel they laid on gave way underneath them.

Ember swore, spinning around so that she could grab Viktor in that moment of being airborne. She cradled the frail boy as they came crashing down on the top level of the lighthouse with a meaty thud and 'oof'. Dust swelled around the two, causing them to cough but they were both fine.

Save for the aching in Embers back and chest. Her lungs struggling to fill with air after having the air knocked out from them. But she didn't care, sitting up immediately to check on Viktor who was already sitting up to look at her, a worried look on his face.

"Are you okay Vik?" She breathed, bringing a hand up to his face to inspect for wounds before checking the rest of his body. But alas, he was completely fine. She took the brunt of the injuries, with a few mere cuts and bruises but nothing too damaging.

"Ember…" he trailed off, causing her to worry even more, making her think she wasn't thorough enough. "There were stairs the whole time."

She turned around to see they had fallen short of the stairs that descended down causing her to laugh, "I know but where's the fun in that?"

He had an incredulous look on his face, like he could strangle her. But she was unphased, panic striking her face as she pulled the rucksack onto her lap and pulled out Viktor's creation that had suffered only a slight casualty from the fall. She held up a thin sheet of metal that was to serve as outer plating for the model.

"Oh no, I'm really sorry Vik." Her face was strewn with panic and guilt, he could see her beating herself up about it. Even the tears that began welling in her eyes.

"It's fine, truly – see." He reached over and grabbed the model, twisting the ignition key that started the motor up and let it set off in his hands to prove that it was going to work just fine.

Relief hit her and she blew out a sigh, "let's hope it flies."

He gave her a nod and let go of the contraption, letting it fly through the air around them. He didn't have enough time to fit lights into the model but made a note in his journal to get to it at another time. But the look on Ember's face was all worth it, the way her features lit up and her eyes grew wide.

Every single thing that boy did, had her impressed and there wasn't a single thing he couldn't do that wasn't going to impress her. And the two sat together, enjoying the time in mostly silence but occasionally talking.

It was when they had long expelled their time in the lighthouse that they decided it was time to head back considering it was darkout and unfavourable individuals skirted the lanes.

Viktor looked at the stairs down and pointed, "can we take the stairs this time?"

She laughed and nodded, helping him up and dusting him off. Not wanting his family to think he had been rolling around in dirt all day.

"I think I may also need your help." He admitted coyly, those stairs were steep and it was dark. She didn't even hesitate when she swooped him into her arms and began to trek down.

Though it wasn't much, it was a nice reminder to Viktor that Ember offered opportunities to him he couldn't face by himself. In a series of events but this one standing out the most, this was the second time he needed her.

[shiningbluewaters]

Iron Blood Flagships and their Gear

Your ship girls are constantly going to be out on sortie. Be it taking on Sirens, keeping shipping lanes open from piracy, on diplomatic missions abroad, on exercise or gunnery back home. It is recommended that they have the best possible equipment, combat ready all the time.

Friedrich and Ulrich's rigging.

Friedrich is the flagship of the Iron Blood Fleet. SK C/34 16 inch main batteries, Triple 155mm Sakura built secondaries, a suite of 105mm anti-aircraft guns, SG Radar suite, and Sakura armor piercing shells make up her preferred load out. When she's sent out on mission, Friedrich der Große is the backbone of the fleet she is assigned to. Her fast firing main guns combined with a devastating barrage when enemies get close can cut entire swathes of hostiles down. She’s best suited for longer fights because of her heavy armor and frighteningly accurate gunnery, but does not mind quick, easy sorties at all. While Friedrich is more of a cold and calculating planner and acts as the Iron Blood's Chief of Staff along with Bismarck, Tirpitz and Graf Zeppelin, there has been a drastic drop off of pirate raids on commercial shipping lanes along the Atlantic coast of Africa where she usually assigns herself. Intercepted pirate radio transmissions often mention her seemingly taking form from mist banks, a roar of gunfire followed by silent waters afterwards. She leaves burning hulks of pirate ships in her wake. When she's on Secretary duty or in her office at HQ, she enjoys classical music. She's also been known to be an incredibly demanding conductor, as she conducts the Port Orchestra during the Holidays.

Ulrich is Friedrich's sister ship and is more seen as the quiet support element of the Iron Blood Fleet. Straight to the point and not one for small talk at all, she practically moves mountains behind the scenes. Her equipment is similar to Friedrich's but has Eagle Union fire control suite to decrease her first salvo loading time. She can fire full broadside with all weapons after her first main salvo, so the FC equipment helps in speeding that along. Sakura 155mm secondaries, and radar guided 40mm anti-aircraft guns round out her armament. Her comrades lean on her for support, regardless of the Fleet she is in. Powerful support by fire from her cannons can clear the path for friends, and her mere presence emboldens her Iron Blood allies to be more aggressive. While Friedrich is the planner for Iron Blood strategy and policy, Ulrich is the logistics manager. Its what she prefers; to stay out of the main HQ and in stock warehouses where she's often by herself. If you're ever by the main Iron Blood Ammunition Supply Point and hear guitar music from inside, don't say anything and don't go looking for her. Just enjoy the music and keep walking. You won't see her without an energy drink in hand while around port either. Leave a case of whatever you see her drinking on the ASP entry, she'll appreciate it. She's not terribly sociable, but she does care. Watch her actions, not her words and you'll see.

[physicalturian]

[18+] Deranged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 18

[Probably contains spoilers from the anime and the manga][She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone is +18]

Archiveofourown - Spotify Playlist

Words : 11 190

Link that inspired me : Link 1 - Link 2 - Link 3

Warnings : Explicit! / Angst / NSFW / Gaslighting / Manipulation / Blood / Violence / Sexual topics / Murder / Trauma / Desecrating / Sexual content / Suicidal Thoughts / Mention of Self-Harm

- - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 -Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17

Hanma had asked me to kill for him.

I don’t know why I was surprised, I was expecting him to tell me to kill that man, but not for him to play it like this. I was also fully aware of this need to prove myself to him, and either he was aware of it too, or he wanted to test me. I had killed once already… and it had only been easy because of the moment, because of how fast I was to dehumanize them once I had no personality to assign them. The woman I had killed had been wearing a mask, I had never talked to her, I didn’t know her, it was so easy to pull the trigger.

But here.

It was different.

Because I knew Arata. I had talked to him, I had worked with him—or at least for him, he had been working at the firm for as long as I could remember and he had a reputation. After all, there wasn’t one person at Silas&Sons that didn’t know who he was; but that reputation was only golden among men of his caliber. Us proper people knew he was an obnoxious, salacious, flirtatious prick that remained in a position of power simply because he was “good at his job” and “he’ll be retiring soon”, making it useless for the firm to fire him, not that they ever really considered it in the first place. Oftentimes it had been the women who reported him that were assigned to another subsidiary in another city, because they were right, but instead of taking in their complaints, they were simply moved. Their voices were muffled, hushed. The problem was thrown under the rug so that Arata’s immaculate reputation could be kept. Whatever strength it had taken the victims to come forward was then rendered futile.

Thinking about the man on his knees in front of me only gave me more reasons to shoot him dead, and yet I couldn’t find the strength to do it. Hanma felt my reticence and carefully slid his arm down mine, his chest pressed against my back, “So exciting!” He whispered right next to my ear as he slowly wrapped my hand around the grip of the gun, his long finger pressing mine on the trigger just enough to place it there before letting go, “Our own little trip down memory lane.” He cooed as he kissed down my jaw.

My entire body was shaking, but I only realized it upon looking at my stretched out hand that was holding the gun. I could barely keep it still, and as bad as it sounded… it was not because of adrenaline or fear. The cold was making me feel more than this dreadful action I was about to commit. “When this is done, can I go home?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. I did not know how much longer I would be able to stand in the pouring rain, constantly feeling like dirt and filth, but I found it easier to focus on this gross feeling than on the moral conundrum going on in my mind. “We’ll still need to bury him, baby.” He laughed, wrapping his arms around my waist, his head now resting on my shoulders. Slowly, I brought my other hand to the gun, hoping it’ll help stabilize it enough, but I was still shaking too much.

“I’m shaking.” I started, but he cut me off in a matter of fact manner, “Get it together, then.” “I have it together! I’m just freezing—just… help me, hold my hands, do something.” To say I was more surprised by his rapid reaction than I was by his request of me killing a man was funny to say the least. But it was true. When he placed his steady hand under mine, effectively calming my trembling, he pressed his head against mine and murmured, “Make me proud, baby.”

And that was enough for me.

Bang.

When the man’s muffled cries died out, there was still no peace. The rain was still the loudest of us all.

Inside I felt sick, I wanted to throw up. I wanted to throw the gun away and fall to my knees, crying. I wanted to ask Hanma if he was happy, if I could go home. I wanted to get out of this grave and run away. But what my body wanted to do out of instinct, my mind compensated with all the emotions I was feeling at the same time, so I didn’t move. I didn’t drop the gun.

Instead, I stood right where I was, arms still extended in front of me, gripping the gun tight even as Hanma’s hand left mine.

It required him to pry the gun from my hands himself and turn me around, as he lowered my arms, to have me return to consciousness. “Good fucking job, fuck that’s—” Hanma cradled my face in his large hands and kissed me with the most passion I ever felt from him. I couldn’t help but return the kiss, my hands finding his shirt to grip it tight for balance and reassurance. As heated as the kiss was, it was also short.

Hanma was the one to break the kiss, pressing his thumbs to the corner of my lips and forcing me to smile before shuffling me to the side of the grave, telling me to get out. When I did, my arms were shaking from how much I had used them to shovel out the dirt. Once I was out, I didn’t have the strength to get up and simply sat on the edge of the grave, my dress ruined and drenched in mud and rain. My feet were fully covered in mud, up my shins as well as splashes of it on my thighs. There was no point in trying to get clean right now since it’d get worse once we were done. Raising my gaze from the ground, I looked at Hanma who was pulling a knife from his pocket to cut the ropes around Arata’s wrists. He then moved him so he was lying on the casket properly and put the knife away to join me.

I let my eyes follow him as he lifted himself out of the grave, uncaring of how dirty he was, of the blood that had splattered on his face and shirt. Seeing it made me think that I was probably covered in it too, but there was only so much energy left in my body, I was too tired to care.

As he dove his hand in his pocket once more, this time he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. It was battered and if it wasn’t for the plastic around it, it’d be damp—he brought the cigarette to his lips and lit it with ease considering the pouring rain, then puffed out the smoke. There was a short silence as we both relaxed, for lack of a better word in such a situation, both looking at the sky in exhaustion. After a moment, Hanma looked down at the corpse and exclaimed, “Shit! We should have told him why he had to die, poor guy died confused.” He laughed, both his hands now on the ground while one still held the cigarette between two fingers. He leaned over and looked at Arata, then at me, “Should we tell him?” he grinned manically.

“He’s dead. He can’t hear you.” I said in a deadpan manner, only seeing him from the corners of my eyes, unable to tear them away from the sky. “His ghost should still be around, babe.” Hanma said joyfully before looking back at Arata then spitting on him, his face turning sour and losing any playfulness that used to adorn it, “Cause pieces of shit like you don’t deserve to live.” He then took another drag and once he had enough, dropped the still-lit cigarette on the body at our feet. I followed the dim orange light from the bud fall and extinguish the moment it hit the man’s clothes. It caught my attention, I was fascinated by how fast the light faded from it. There was no reason for such fascination to be, but it just was.

With fatigue, I slicked my hair out of my face and threw a look at Hanma, “You’re mad.” I stated, only the ghost of a smile on my face. We had just desecrated a body, a grave, and he was right as rain—not one ounce of worry on his beautiful, crimson-tainted features. I was expecting him to tell me to shut up, to tell me I liked it and he would be right, even if I felt too drained to tell him so or to feel any joy from being by his side right now. But he did none of those things. Instead, he replied, “As a hatter, and you…” he poked my chest before dragging his nail up to my chin and grabbing it with a certain softness to it, “You’re my little Alice, falling down the rabbit hole of insanity.”

I was quick to take his freezing hand off my chin with my own freezing one, holding it, “I don’t like this analogy much.” I said, in something close to a whisper. Hanma scoffed, curling his hand around mine, “Why? Ain’t it creative?” it made me huff a short laugh, one he could see from my movement but not hear, and looked at our hands. After a short pause, I met his eyes and smiled tiredly, “I don’t think Alice wanted to fuck the hatter.” Those simple words made his whole face light up like fairy lights as a wide, crazy smile stretched on his lips. Feeling he would go on a rant or tease me again, I let go of his hand and held his shoulder to help me stand up. As jokingly as I could, I nodded at him, “Right. When you smile like that it’s more of a Cheshire Cat moment than a Mad Hatter.” I could have walked away and started throwing the dirt back in the grave, but instead, I held out my hand for him to take, which he did only to pull me towards him as he stood up. He placed one hand on my cheek as the other lifted my dress on the side of my thigh, “That’d be weird to fuck a cat, babe. We’ll stick to Mad Hatter and Alice, yeah?” He cooed mockingly, kissing my cheek then letting me go.

There was no need to say anything after that. All we did was pick up the shovels and finish what we had started hours ago. It was hard to battle the relief I was feeling, I wanted to relax, I wanted to stop shivering but my teeth were chattering from the cold and my arms were screaming for me to stop at each shovelful I’d throw on the dead body. Just like before, I was numb and entered a trance, shoveling on automated mode.

It made it all go so much faster, both Hanma and I were exhausted so the covering up of our crime was done in silence. I would sometimes steal a glance at the many tombstones around us and felt sick knowing what we had done. If I had been the one whose loved one’s grave had been dug up... I don’t know how I’d feel. But I knew thinking about those three bodies now 6 feet under was not helping with this sick feeling in my chest. I tried hard to keep shoveling but around the end, I dropped the shovel and ran to some bushes, only muttering a quick, “Gonna be sick.” The mud was enough to soften my fall to my knees, but the feeling of it between my fingers when I planted them on the ground made me feel icky.

Nothing but liquid came out of my mouth, I was feeling dizzy from the cold and from how hungry I was, it was physically painful at this point. I don’t know how long I stayed kneeling on the ground, eyes closed, trying to get my shit together—all I knew is that I heard plastic behind me then I felt Hanma nudge me with his foot, “Alright get up, we’re done.”

Letting my head tilt back, I felt the rain drops on my face and looked at Hanma with half-lidded eyes, “I don’t think I can get up, I’m drained, Shuji.” More than physically, that was. Other words grazed my tongue, but they were too strong to be pronounced yet… those words that so easily spilled out of someone’s mouth when at the lowest point of their lives—but I didn’t deserve to say them. I couldn’t beg for anything yet, it wasn’t so bad, I could get arrested, I could be an addict, there were so many things worse than being a murderer. I had to live with it, right? I couldn’t complain. I had chosen to do that.

“Don’t think I asked.” he said, holding everything with one arm then gripping my forearm tight to help me to my feet, making me stumble a bit but he made sure to hold onto my arm with force, “I’m not your walker, grandma, so you better get your footing and walk.” My arm was starting to hurt, so I pried his hand off and paced ahead of him, desperately rubbing my arms on the way to the car to get any sort of heat. I did slip a few times from the mud on my way there, but once I arrived at the car and tried to open the door, Hanma dangled the keys from afar, calling out above the rain, “Gotta wait a bit, princess.” He then took his sweet time to arrive while I leaned against the car.

The sound of the trunk opening startled me and told me Hanma had arrived, he threw the shovels in it and pulled out a duffle bag. My heart spiked up and a bad feeling settled in my chest, could it be he had another trial for me? I did not want to hear of it, I did not want him to test me anymore, not tonight. I wanted sleep, food, and warmth. ”Take off the dress.” He stated as he opened the backseat door, throwing the bag in.

Sure, the dress had been ruined and it was drenched, but I didn’t think it required me to take it off right now, “No. You made sure I did not wear anything underneath, I’m not going to get naked in the middle of the street.” “Who’s gonna see? Dead people? Take off the damn dress.” He said with a deadpan expression, his hair still slicked back from the rain and all of his clothes drenched like mine were. When I didn’t reply, he gave me a tight smile and suddenly gripped my shoulders, just as fast he unzipped my dress but did not pull it off, “Take it off and get inside.” All I could do was hold it tight in the front as I walked past him and when I was about to sit down, he shook his head, tutting me like a child. “You take off the rag, then you use it.” He ordered, his eyes drifting to my muddy legs and feet. I had long since wiped my hands on the dress, but the rest… “I’m not letting you dirty my car just cause you thought you were the moment with your dramatic ass in the mud, so clean up.”

Giving him a stern look, I stood in front of him determined, my eyes never leaving his and the rain never stopping.

Slowly I brought my hands to my sleeves and all while holding his gaze, pulled them down, baring my chest to him. My head still high, I pulled my dress past my waist and straightened my back once more—there was no difference in temperature with or without the dress. There was however a difference in how exposed I felt now standing in front of him, fully undressed, in the street at night. “Happy?” I asked dryly. His answer was to take the dress from me and push me so I was sitting on the backseat, legs hanging out the side as he did a quick wipe over them before throwing the dress on the floor of his car, “There’s a blanket in the bag, get your legs in.” Even if he told me to do it, he threw them inside himself, not giving a shit if I had any balance then he slammed the door shut.

I did not waste time in grabbing the duffle bag next to him and pulling out the blanket that was a lot cleaner than I thought it’d be. For some reason, I was expecting ragged things, but it seemed like the man was prepared.

Hanma stayed a bit longer outside after having taken his phone from his jacket and called someone, but I didn’t try to eavesdrop. Instead, I waited, my head resting against the seat.

When he got in the car, he took off his shirt, harness and tie, leaving him in his undershirt. He then hit his head back against the seat and let out a breathy laugh, “Such a great night, bit too quiet though.” He looked at my still form, I had the blanket around me and was holding onto it for dear life, trying to get some heat. When he didn’t speak, I looked up and met his eyes, too wide in excitement to my taste. How could he have any energy left? He gave me a once over then turned the heat higher before looking back ahead and plugging his phone in. After a few moments, a guitar started playing and I recognized the tune of the song Don’t Fear The Reaper from a band I had forgotten the name of. I don’t know if it was accidental or if he was doing this on purpose, but as I listened to the lyrics, I found it somewhat fitting.

I was staring at him as he was driving, his eyes focused on the road with a smile on his face but saw how he turned his head to look at me from time to time, still mouthing the lyrics to himself. The situation was funny in a sense, but I couldn’t laugh, all I could do was look at him in confusion because I didn’t fear The Reaper. I had long since replaced that fear with lust, need, which was perhaps more frightening to me than fearing him—one was common sense to feel when staying by the side of an insane man like him… the other came out of nowhere and there was nothing I could do to dull this desire for him. If anything, it kept growing the more time we spent together. It was frightening how much I cared for him, it was sick—irrational. It was odd to say it was irrational considering how sensible I used to be, but that was no more, he had ripped the rationality out of me by making me his. Because staying by his side was not a wise choice, I knew it… and yet I remained.

He had promised to protect me, to not hurt me and I trusted him. That's why I stayed with him. But if there was one thing I did not consider by falling for him, it was that if something were to ever happen to him, I’d be heartbroken. If he were to die, I don’t know what I would do—if I could even stay in Bonten after his departure. This life was dangerous, he had been in it for a long time which showed he was good at it, right? He wouldn’t die… but at the same time, fate had a way, karma struck in the least expected moment and the amount of awful things this man had done in his life would make karma’s hit strong. “You’d think being tired would make you pass out, but it seems like the little princess is feeling guilty.” He commented, his eyes meeting mine in the rear-view mirror.

“Telling me to stop thinking doesn’t help. If you’re curious about it, just ask.” I mumbled, snuggling inside the blanket more. I was now much more aware of my body with the heat that had spread in the car thanks to the air-conditioning, and even with the fabric covering me, I felt exposed. “I’m more of a man of action, babe. Once I get you home, I’ll have you stop thinking, it’s easy.” “Can I stay at your place?” I cut him off, avoiding his look by staring at the window. The words had left my mouth before I could think them through, and perhaps Hanma was to blame for that, he had this effect on me. He made me act rashly, but this time it wasn’t regrettable, it wasn’t to make him proud, it was for myself. I did not want to be alone, he had become a safe place, he could drown whatever thoughts I was having. And having done such atrocious actions tonight…

I feared my brain, my thoughts.

I feared what I’d do to stop feeling like this.

These feelings of guilt and paranoia were awful, but they were not alone. Close by often stood hopelessness, anxiety, nausea… but the worst was this small, yet growing, feeling of excitement—of thinking, ‘We got away with it, we can get away with more.’ and it made me want to see what more I could do, what I could get away with. I was afraid of myself.

Hanma laughed with a huge satisfied grin on his face, “This ain’t free real estate, baby.” he started, but I cut him off, too tired for his bullshit, “Alright, I was just asking, drop me at my place.” I said quickly, my throat tight from the short embarrassment I felt for being told no. It was stupid, but I was past exhaustion and I had little to no control over my feelings. “All I’m saying is that you’ll have to give me something in return—here’s what I offer,” I hadn’t realized we had been driving for so long until Hanma pulled to the side of the road, before continuing as he placed his arm behind the empty seat in front of me, “You don’t fight me tonight, when I tell you to do something you do it. I don’t care if you wanna give attitude, I’m too tired to take you bratty shit tonight.” He said in the most serious tone before giving me a sweet smile and telling me in a sing-song voice, “Got it?”

I was glad he could not read my mind because that’s all I wanted tonight. I wanted to let him do whatever he wanted, I did not want to have to think and take control over anything. I just wanted to be without having to worry about what came with it. So hearing his words reassured me, even if spoken a bit harshly. “Got it.” I nodded once before placing my hand on the door, ready to leave only to find it locked.

“Just wait.” He stated, getting all his stuff from the passenger seat and leaving the car. He then walked around to reach my door and opened it, eyes furrowed as he smiled, “If I had a doorman he’d be here with an umbrella, weird shit, huh?” He joked before grabbing my hand to pull me out of my seat and slamming the door shut. I hissed at the coldness of the pavement and rushed inside, dragging Hanma with me since he was not letting go of my hand. He only let go to grab a black plastic bag from the corner of the hall then he joined me with a cute smile on his face upon seeing I was holding the door of the elevator open. Once he stepped inside, I let go and he sighed theatrically loudly, “I love it when you’re submissive and cooperative like that, it makes everything so much easier.”

Throwing him a side glance, I frowned, “It’s just politeness to keep the door open, were you expecting me to go up without you? It’s stupid—” “Ah ah ah,” He berated mockingly, moving his index finger in front of me to tell me to stop, “We said no attitude, so tone it down for one fucking night, yeah?” He asked rhetorically. I didn't have a choice, but it was odd to see him like that. Did exhaustion make him more on edge? Was his patience down in the gutter when the man was tired? Whichever it was, I understood the message and shut my mouth. If that’s what he wanted, then tonight I would be his literal doll, “Yes, sir.” I said dryly.

Hanma smirked at that but did not say anything, it made the time for us to reach his floor go by slower. All he did was hum some tune while the elevator went up, his bruised hand gripping the plastic bag tight—it only made me wonder what was in it, but at the same time I feared there could be some illegal stuff, so I didn’t ask.

Once we arrived on the last floor, Hanma stepped out first and was fast to open the door to his apartment, turning around just as fast to look at me when I was walking too slow for his taste, “You can drop the blanket, we’re not outside anymore.” He said off-handedly once we entered, as he threw his stuff on the couch and proceeded to take off his shoes. I didn’t follow his suggestion and instead stood by the now-locked door with the blanket still wrapped around my form. “It was never about modesty,” I started, starting to walk past him to go to the bathroom when I realized I did not know where it was. I turned around and looked at him. He was leaning on the back of the couch, looking at me with his arms crossed over his chest, a proud smile on his lips. Continuing, I said in a neutral tone, “I’m just freezing, it tends to happen—” I stopped myself when I saw him raise a brow; he would take my words as an attitude, and I had promised to be docile. So I did. I closed my mouth a moment and resumed, “I would like to shower. Where is the bathroom?”

That turned his smile into a wicked one, “There’s just one door—I mean, you’re more than welcome in my bedroom if that’s what you want us to do.” He said teasingly. I did not return the playfulness. I wanted to, I knew if I did it would have led to some fun, but I was too tired to do so. I thanked him instead before padding away to go wash up.

When I entered the bathroom, I was surprised by how big it was—although my first thought was frustration from there not being any lock on the door. I suppose when you lived alone it made sense, even more so when your friends hardly visited you… not that he had many people he could consider friends, from what I’d gathered. With a sigh, I looked around, in the furthest right corner was an open shower that seemed to have enough room for 5 people, something unnecessary for him. To my right were also the sink and the toilet, next to the shower. And in front of me were the washing machines, by the glass wall that separated the shower. I scared myself when looking to my left and saw my reflection in the mirrors that adorned the entirety of the wall there. I looked like shit, my hair was a mess, drenched but slowly drying already while I looked dead, my face devoid of anything. Covered in droplets of blood.

I dropped the blanket on the floor and looked at my reflection for a moment. Coming back late, my body shaking from fear or adrenaline, or whatever I was feeling right now… My features were stripped bare of any emotion, my hands were roughened—all of it felt like a déjà vu from my first night in this whole mess, except the damage was not superficial anymore. I could not see many bruises, except the ones fading on my stomach, because those could be treated. But as I met my own eyes in the mirror, I smiled sadly and let out a silent sob.

Slowly, my face contorted in a grimace and tears rolled down my cheeks.

So little had changed, I looked exactly the same except those eyes. Those eyes that had seen so much, too much. Gently, I touched under my eyes and watched my hands in the reflection do the same, I could barely feel my own touch. Was this real?

It’s all in my head, I thought as I brought my hands through my hair and gripped the roots tight, still looking at myself. The pain on my scalp made me let out a silent gasp, but it felt good to feel something—a short smile in the corner of my lips drew itself.

Why am I smiling? I thought. It made me smile wider but my eyes were pained, I was in pain, I was sad, why am I sad? I wasn’t the one who had died. A breathless laugh escaped my lips. I was smiling with my mouth open now, saliva connecting my teeth while the tears were never stopping, “You can’t be sad.” I whispered to myself, slapping my cheek with force to get myself together. I deserved that, I deserved more than just a slap, “You did that, you’re a murderer. You have no will, you’re weak.” I told myself, my voice slightly stronger than a whisper now. “You. Murdered. Someone.” I said once again with more force, but the sobs were not leaving.

I needed to hear it, it still felt unreal.

Why had I not reacted like that when I killed that woman?

Maybe it was because I could not hear her sobs—unlike Arata’s.

I did not know her—unlike Arata.

I had done it out of frustration—but tonight it had been done simply to make him proud.

It was not justified under emotional instability.

I was more than conscious of what I had done.

“Cold-blooded murderer.” I said under my breath. I then repeated the same thing, except I added my name to it. Perhaps mass murderer would fit better by the time the police discovers all that I’ll have done.

A shaky laugh escaped my lips, “I’ll never get caught, I’ll never get punished for what I did.” I whispered in disbelief. Bonten was too powerful for me to ever redeem myself by getting arrested, I was in this until the end unless I—

“The water’s not running, what the fuck are you doing?” I heard Hanma behind the door. A loud sob escaped my lips at the sound of his voice, something he must have heard since he did not ask before stepping inside and seeing the state I was in. He stopped in front of the door after closing it and now looked at me with what seemed to be a worried expression.

I was not feeling good.

And in those times… He had taught me to lean on him.

Oh-so-many times he had proven himself to be reliable in helping me forget.

So I fully turned around and looked at him with tears streaming down my face.

With a broken voice, I managed to utter, “I’m thinking again.”

It was all it took for him to wrap one arm around my shoulders and hold me close while he grabbed something behind me. I latched onto him, wrapping my arms around his stomach and gripping his shirt tight behind his back. I started repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—I never should have killed, I…” “Get in the shower, come on.” He never let go of me but he guided us to the shower, not listening to what I was saying. I don’t know why I was apologizing, after all he had been part of it. He had no regrets, what could he do to help me?

Something hit the floor of the shower then he forced my hands away from him, “Kneel on the towels.” He ordered as he turned on the water. I was startled by the temperature and stared at him in confusion, my sobs having slowed to silent cries. “Just for tonight, give in. You’re in no fucking state to be whoever you are right now.” He said, pointing at the floor. With feeble movements, I knelts on the towels on the ground, enjoying the texture against my skin. My back was turned to him, but I felt one of his hands graze my shoulders, “Tonight your brain is wired on being good for me, and that’s it.” Hanma stated as he moved my hair out of the way, then slid his hands to my collar bone, putting some pressure, “I don’t want you to think about shit, it’s me on your mind and just me. You empty that pretty head and you just think of me.” He then switched from shower head to the shower wand and poured the burning water on my skin, “Shouldn’t be too hard since you love me, right?”

I hissed at the burning sensation and he was fast to move it away, “Too hot?” He asked. At the same speed, I gripped his wrist and brought the shower wand to my back, tensing at the burning feeling again, “It’s fine, keep going.” “You think I’m that stupid I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing?” His tone was rough as he moved to lower the temperature of the water, then forcefully tilted my head back, his left hand covering my eyes suddenly as he poured water in my hair. I didn’t reply and let him do as he pleased, but he wasn’t done. “I told you already to stop thinking before, didn’t I? Or to change that mindset—if you want to stay alive.”

“What if I considered not doing that… what then?”

Saying it out loud made it awful, did I really want to die? Just by telling him I considered it, I realized I could not leave him behind. I didn't know if he’d be sad if I died, but I would be, because there was so much I wanted to do with him. I didn’t want to miss out on anything. He uncovered my eyes. “Sorry, that was dramatic, I’m tired.” I mumbled, feeling how my chest had gotten heavier with the silence.

“The guilt will kill you. Change your mindset.” He was dead serious but I followed his order and focused on him, so I let out a short laugh when I heard how serious he was whilelathering my hair with shampoo. Suddenly my head was tilted back more, almost making me lose my balance if not for Hanma’s legs. He was now looking down at me with a frown, “What’s funny?” He asked, rinsing his hands while still looking at me before bringing the water to my hair. His free hand acted as a shield for my eyes against the water while he rinsed the shampoo off without looking at it, his beautiful eyes still on mine. “The situation.” I started, “How do you do it?” I asked, hoping he’d catch my drift. But he did not, instead he asked for a clarification so I continued, “The murdering innocents…” He cut me off by twisting the water out of my hair and letting go before crouching behind me and forcing me to turn around by turning the towels with me on it, “Simple, they’re not innocents. None of them are, I don’t know anyone innocent—they’re all filthy rich bastards, and if they’re not rich, they’re still scums.” He spat.

He was still mostly dressed, pants and undershirt on, and yet he still sat on the wet floor in front of me, pouring water then soap on my body. “It’s a lot easier to find excuses to kill than to find the strength to fight the guilt—not that I have much of it in the first place, but reasoning with guilt ain’t it. Just,” He mimicked throwing something over his shoulder, “get rid of it, because it slows everyone down.” With a dramatic pause, he added, “It eats you from the inside.” Then in a lighter tone, “If capitalistic assholes felt guilty, we wouldn’t be living in the world we’re currently living in, babe.” His tone brightened my mood, even if just a little bit. When he placed his hand on my shoulder to wash me, I gripped it to stop him and chuckled nervously. I didn’t have the energy to do it myself but it still felt intimate for him to do such a thing, a lot more intimate than him fucking me. It was odd. “What?” He asked, annoyed.

I couldn’t ask him if he loved me. I couldn’t ask him if we were dating, this was not us.

I just needed to make sure we were on the same wavelength. So I asked, “I’m your girl, yes?” I sounded pitiful, how desperate was I? How would I even take it if he said no? Hanma’s answer was to move my hand and let his rub down my arm a few times, making the soap bubble, “Yeah, who else would it be?” I ignored his question and stopped his hand again, forcing him to look at me, which he did in confusion and anger once more. “And are you mine? Can I—” I swallowed hard and finished, “I need to know, can I call you mine?” His hand dropped from my arm but his gaze was still locked on mine, utterly caught off guard for a moment before losing any emotion that used to adorn his face a second ago. His silence was more heart shattering than anything, yet I still waited for him to answer, thinking he would laugh.

Instead he grinned wickedly, his hands suddenly gripping me at the waist as he pulled me over his crossed legs and kissed me roughly, his soapy hands sliding over my wet skin, “Fuck yeah you can, didn’t think you were the type wanna show me off like a prize—I couldn’t care less what you call me, just remember that I own you.” He smirked against my lips, his hands now under my ass as he lifted me to my knees, pressing me against him. His shirt was drenched from all the water, so were his pants, but he did not seem to care at all. Running my hands through his hair, I held the base of his neck tight and kissed him back with a sob. The heated kiss was interrupted when I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held him tight, surprising him by the way his hands stilled on my body.

Do you know what you’re doing? Please don’t die. I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I can’t get enough of you. I hate to love you, but I can’t stop it.

That’s all I wanted to tell him, and more—but he was not the emotional type, and I had said too much today already. I needed to stop acting rashly on my emotions, or perhaps I needed to stop being this close to him when tired and not in control.

So I let him go.

Unwrapping my arms, I sat back on the towels and brought his hands back on my body, wordlessly telling him to wash me, which he did with a frown. I needed to take the discussion elsewhere, so while staring at his pants, lost in thoughts, I asked, “Do you have any food in your fridge?” I stood up when he signaled me to do so in order for him to wash my legs. Once I sat back down, he looked at me like I was the dumbest between us two, “Being tired doesn’t mean you can be that stupid, baby.” He scoffed, finally bringing the water back on the wand setting so it stopped raining on us, and he rinsed my body carefully before helping me to my feet. “There’s shit in the fridge, help yourself.” He said, grabbing a towel he had hung on the glass pane and handing it to me, “Be there in five.” I don’t know what pushed me to be this clingy—of course I did, he was the perfect scarecrow to my darkness-filled thoughts shaped like that animal of bad omen—but I put the towel back on the pane and shook my head, “I’ll help you.” “If you wanna fuck in the shower, it’s a no.”

My face heated up in an instant, I quickly grabbed the towel about to leave when he stopped me by grabbing my wrist, “Just say you don’t wanna fuck and I’ll let you worship the body of your maker, doll. Just say it.” “Fucking in a shower is impractical, I don’t want to fuck you here. Just…” Thinking back on his words, I locked my eyes on him and gave him a fakely sweet smile, “Just trying to be good for you.” Those simple words sparked something in him, making him take both of my hands in his and bringing us under running water. He looked down at himself, “Undress me, then. Is that what you want? To be of use?” He smiled in a way I had never seen him smile. Was it confidence? He usually had that, but here it was not coated with a challenging attitude, there was no malice—he was just towering over me, almost dominantly.

Was that what I wanted? My hands moved to untuck his undershirt and helped it off of him without saying anything. My eyes did however linger on the healing gunshot wound on his side, but Hanma was fast to tilt my head back up and throw the shirt out of the shower, “Keep going.” Why did I find this comforting? I wasn’t thinking of much, all I could feel was his eyes on me and the perfect temperature of the water pouring down my body. My hands settled on his belt and I slid it off, dropping it nearby before unzipping his pants and hooking my thumbs in the hem of his pants and boxers. It did not feel sexual for some reason, when I pulled everything down and he was standing in all his glory, completely bare to me, vulnerable some would say. It only felt intimate.

Hanma kicked his clothes out of the shower and proceeded to hand me the shampoo. “The hair now.” With that, he leaned forward to have his hair at my height and I gently lathered it, unable to cover his eyes from the product but he didn’t seem to care. “Your neck will hurt if you stay like that.” All he said was, “Hurry up then, we don’t have all night, doll.” With a huff, I continued and when I was done, he straightened his back and rinsed it off. I couldn’t help but take in how gorgeous he looked. And how battered his body looked; there were bruises I hadn’t seen, scars I had never had time to take in, yet he seemed fine. Unbothered. Good.

“You’ll take in the view when you’re done, but you’re not. So keep at it.” He said as he grabbed my hand, placed a cloth on it, before pouring shower gel on it.

With a raised brow, I asked, “Why didn’t you use that when washing me?” He looked at me with a growing smile and patted my cheek condescendingly, “Cause I don’t wanna fuck you when you’re suicidal, that’s why. I can touch you without wanting to fuck you.” His words should have hit me hard with how crude they were, but he was touching me. And while I could hear him, I couldn’t truly hear him. “But you’d jerk me off in this shower if you could. So you do as you're told and you clean me up.” He brought the cloth to his chest and I started washing him, my entire body heating up at the situation. I had been clear I wouldn’t want to fuck here, but he was right that seeing him like this did make me feel things. The only time he had been fully naked with me, he had just left my bath and was dripping with rosé-colored water from his wound. Tonight, he looked healthier than last time, he looked less cocky, he looked nice.

“See, it’s not that hard.” He said as he turned around to give me access to his back. I was surprised when I saw what adorned it, and let out, “I never knew you had a tattoo on your back.” Then started scrubbing him while he laughed a bit too much for my liking, was I not allowed to be surprised? It was a full back tattoo with a traditional Oni face on it, the one with the horns, and I had never caught a glimpse of it? He had taken a bath in my house and I had never seen it? I was really blinded by him, by his attitude or perhaps it was that easy to have me lose focus, all he’d have to do was touch me and I’d be gone.

It was quick to wash him, so only a few moments after, he turned around and grabbed my wrist, “You never really had the opportunity to see it, you know with the sucking my dick and whatnot.” He said, pulling me closer to him as he wrapped an arm around my waist. I didn’t know if I could hold back from letting my hands roam over his beautiful body, so I reached out behind him and turned off the shower, “It looks good, let’s get out.” I said in all honesty, prying his arm off of me before turning around and reaching for the towel on the pane. When I unfolded it fully to wrap it around my form, I felt a stinging pain on my ass—I quickly turned around to look at Hanma who was smiling broadly, “This looks good too.” And it felt good too, but I didn’t voice that thought. He had stopped me from seeking such a thrill with the burning water, so I hardly thought he’d want me to seek it here.

So I stared at him, having forgotten to glare instead, then wrapped the towel around my form without a word. “Not saying anything?” He teased, patting himself dry before wrapping his towel around his waist and walking to the door, standing by it to wait for me.

“This whole ‘thinking about you’ thing isn’t working the way you think it is.” “Oh no, it absolutely is. It just works better than expected.” Interrupting himself, realization struck him and a huge satisfied grin was now plastered on his face. It kept growing, widening until he was smiling from ear to ear, “See, I don’t know how I keep forgetting that my girl’s a masochist. Cause there’s so much potential to—” “The potential to nothing.” I said with a deadpan expression, although I was sure he could see I was embarrassed. Walking past him, I opened the door, only to have him block my path as he held me by the shoulders then started walking backwards, guiding me to his bedroom. “Were you planning on having dinner in a towel?” He asked mockingly, finally letting me go once we had reached his bed. I thought he’d have continued the topic of moments ago, but clearly his focus was nowhere to be seen. Or perhaps too much was going on in his brain all at once.

Giving him an incredulous look, I nodded slowly, “The clothes I had earlier today clearly weren’t on the living room floor, and if my memory serves me right, you tore the dress I was wearing. So, yes. I was planning on keeping this towel around myself so that I wasn’t naked in your apartment.” It felt nice to banter normally, but I still had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that was not only to blame on the hunger I was feeling, but on something bigger. Hanma grabbed the plastic bag from the floor and smirked at me, “Would it be that bad to walk around naked? I for sure would enjoy it.” He laughed before turning the bag upside down on his bed, many items falling out of it—many recognizable, familiar ones.

“Why—how? No, when?” I asked in awe, moving closer to the bed and rummaging through everything, folding my clothes and placing my toothbrush on the side. There was at least half of my wardrobe on the bed but as much as I wondered how he had gotten my things, I could not be happier to have comfortable clothes to wear after such a long night. “That’s for me to know and for you to thank me for it.” He then moved to the right of the entrance of the bedroom and slid open the wardrobe. I watched him drop the towel on the floor and couldn’t help but stare even after having seen him fully naked moments ago—his body only looked more beautiful now that I had felt it entirely, now that there wasn’t one inch of him I hadn’t seen. I did not know I craved knowing him in such a way, but I did.

He put on his boxers then simply threw his bathrobe on, not even tying it closed. “I’m pretty sure I’m the predator here, but you’re looking at me like you wanna eat me.” He looked down at himself, “Or my dick, don’t know yet.” He snorted before walking out of the room, telling me to hurry up.

Not wanting to be left alone, I hurried to put on some clothes. After the shower, my body had returned to an almost normal temperature, but I still put on a pair of socks along with my pyjama set. It was one of the few I owned, preferring to sleep in simply my underwear and a shirt, but the fabric was soft and I was still not warm enough. Not to mention I was not going to sleep right away, I would not be snuggled up under a blanket as it heated my body and I’d fall asleep.

No, I had to eat with Hanma first.

Only then will I be allowed some rest. I did not know if it was well-deserved, but it was needed.

Once dressed, I padded out of the room and joined Hanma in the other room, most lights were off except for the ones under the cabinets in the kitchen. It lit the room only enough for us to see the counter while the rest of the apartment was but grey shapes in the back of the room. Everything was so quiet it was a relief after all the hubbub from the casino, followed by the neverending rain and those dark thoughts that pegged my mind. As I watched Hanma heating up some leftovers, a certain peace flooded my body—he was all I could see right now, all I could think of, and I did not mind it one bit. I had come to the realization of wanting him a while ago already, but now I had him and it felt so… right. He was clearly as tired as I was, his head now tilted back as he waited for the food to heat up, eyes closed. He’d only move the pan here and there, not even looking at it.

I did not move from my spot at the end of the corridor that linked his bedroom to here, I only stared. And he must have felt it since he turned his head towards me and opened his eyes, “Mute and staring, what are you? An owl or something?” Oh, did I know how fucked I was when my chest felt the rapid beating of my heart against it, and it only increased when he looked at me. “Thank you for the clothes, for helping me shower too. And for—” He looked away from me and stopped the stove, “Food’s done.” I supposed he did not want to hear my gratitude, seeing how he did not listen to me. So I grabbed my plate and followed him to the dining table—I made sure to turn on the lamp from the living room so we could at least have a little bit of light in the dining room, then was about to sit opposite of him.

Before I could sit down, he pointed at the chair next to him and sat down, his eyes locked on mine until I moved to sit next to him. I was so hungry I did not feel like eating. I had this feeling like if I ate anything I’d throw up, but I still tried—not that Hanma would have let me leave this table without eating. So I stared back at him while chewing and pointed at his plate, “Stop staring and eat too, weren’t you tired? Don’t you want to go to sleep as soon as possible?” I asked, mouth still full of food. “Wouldn’t want to miss out on you trying to kill yourself by choking on—” my food, he’d meant, but I put the fork down and swallowed, frowning at him.

“Here’s the deal, you stop mentioning what I said in the bathroom. You can keep being a piece of shit—be a bastard all you want, but that,” I paused, clearly fearing to my admittance of having considered ending it all, even for a moment, then continued, “Is forgotten. Just…” I trailed off, unsure if I should continue. But he was now resting his hand in the palm of his hand with his elbow on the table, so I shoved more food in my mouth and mumbled, “Don’t leave me.”

There was a short silence and before continuing eating, I stared at the plate and stated under my breath, “And it’s more than just a safety net thing, what I said at the casino still stands…” I wanted to continue with ‘even if you don’t care’, but he did care. He had told me himself. And he had shown it to me in more ways than one. I could not ignore that he cared even if he did not say it out loud—I’d have to get used to it. “Don’t really plan on leaving any time soon, babe.” He said in a sing-song voice as he brought my free hand to his mouth and with a toothy grin, kissed the back of it, “And it’d be a dull, dull world without you in it. After all, no one else entertains me the way you do.” He cooed, placing my hand down on his thigh instead of the table. I looked back at the plate and without moving my hand from him, continued eating, only squeezing his thigh to show I had heard him and, even if it did not show in a simple squeeze, I had enjoyed hearing those words.

He was done eating before I was, which was only a few minutes after our short conversation. So while I was finishing up, he scooted closer with his chair and held my hand on his thigh, none of us saying anything about it, while he leaned on the table with his other arm. “Got yourself a one-on-one with Mikey, I heard.” He said with a growing smile, but he was clearly tired, there was only so big his might could get when exhaustion was this prominent. “Better clear your schedule for the week, cause that means he has big plans for you.” He continued, his eyes suddenly trailing down my body slowly. I quickly finished eating and pushed the plate away then asked, “How big?”

Of course he had to turn it into a joke and looked down at his boxers, pulling at the elastic with the hand that was holding mine to look inside, “Pretty big—you would know, right?” He said with a satisfied grin. I snatched my hand away from his and stood up, grabbing both of our plates, “What are his plans for me?” I asked more seriously, albeit with some drowsiness in my voice. Hanma followed me to the kitchen and grabbed the plates from my hands, putting them in the sink before turning every light off and explained, “See, the little earring shows you’re mine. But the rest of the world needs to know you’re Bonten’s.” He slid a hand around my waist and guided us to his bedroom, but in panic I put a hand on my earlobe and did not feel said earring, “Shit—Shuji! Shit, shit, where is it?” I stopped him and forced him to look at me, “I don’t have the earring, I lost it… what if I lost it in the cemetery and someone finds it?!” I said with even more panic. He looked at me with a bored expression then slowly turned me around and rested his chin on my shoulder as he lifted my arm with his to point at the nightstand, “Your paranoia is up the roof when you’re tired. I took it off when you were having your little break down.”

The relief I felt was so great that I did not think before placing my hand against his cheek and turning my head to kiss him, “Thank you.” Only to pull away quickly when he did not kiss back right away, cheeks heating up in seconds. I did not know how many more mistakes I could make tonight, but I knew I had had enough of feeling embarrassed for one night. That’s why I stepped away from him and changed the topic after clearing my throat, “Where do I sleep?” I was fine with the couch if it came down to it and Hanma wanted to act like an asshole, but I would have been much happier if I had him next to me.

Hanma smiled and shrugged, “Where do you want to sleep? Heard the couch’s nice.” He chuckled and looked at the bed. Before he could continue, I spoke like the desperate woman I was tonight. I could not believe how much I wanted to be with him, but if I tried to justify it, I would say it was because I was vulnerable tonight and being alone wouldn’t help with my dark thoughts. Although I did not want to rationalize, I just needed him to touch me, to make me forget about everything. With a huff and as much confidence as I could, I said, “If that’s what you want, sure. Just not tonight.” I then took off my socks and pants, “I don’t want to be alone tonight so I won’t be.” I added, still not looking at him as I slid under the covers and turned my back to him, my heart beating fast in fear he’d laugh at my actions. One hand was holding the blanket tight against my form while the other was close to my chest—I could feel how cold my hands were through my shirt and my feet when they brushed against my legs, so I balled up.

I was more than aware Hanma had yet to join me and I feared he’d never do so until I felt the blanket being lifted, letting in a short draft until he slid under the covers with me. Seeing his proud smile, I turned around to not look at him and closed my eyes. I was too tired to decipher his mood and too tired to try harder to reach out for him today.

With a deep breath, I focused on the silence in the room.

There was not one sound.

No car sounds, from how high up we were in the building, no humming from electronics, nothing.

My mind, or enemy, decided to fill this lack of anything by replaying that gunshot in my head. The loud sound of the rain, the bang. The rapid passing of the few cars that’d drive through, the bang. The metallic sound of our shovels hitting and digging in the ground, the bang.

His muffled cries, the bang.

The thud of his body hitting the casket.

The bang.

I was crying again.

Silently this time.

Balled up, clutching the sheets tightly as I breathed slowly through my mouth. If I gave it time, the guilt and regret would stop hurting so much; I knew it would, it had to. But I was in the present, I was living these dreadful emotions right now and every part of my body was itching for pain. I needed to drown this feeling of guilt behind a stronger feeling, one I could manage. A physical sensation I could focus on more than one I could only battle in my head, alone. When I slid my hand to grip my hips hard, digging my nails in my skin, it was replaced by Hanma’s warm hand as he forcefully turned me around and pushed my legs away from my chest, bringing me closer to him. “Cut the shit—” He started, I cut him off, “I can’t stop thinking about it, Shuji. And it’s so quiet here, what else am I supposed to do but think?” I asked in a hushed shaky whisper as I wiped my tears, finally looking at him after all this time. He still had the light on behind him, on the nightstand, so I could see how he kept his face as neutral as possible.

“Yeah, but you’re not just thinking. You look stupid hurting yourself like that, you know that?” He gritted through his teeth, moving his arm under mine so it rested on his arm. I held it weakly. Then I felt his hand gripping my hip tight as he slid his other hand under my body, this time on my waist as he dug his nails in under my shirt and whispered in anger, “I said I was the only one allowed to hurt you,” I let out a groan and closed my eyes as my hold tightened on his arm, my free hand now against his shoulder. “That way you get to get off on it.” He leaned in for a kiss at the same moment he raked his nails on my back, muffling my moans. His hands traveled under my panties, grabbing my ass as he rolled me so I was now laying on him. I let out a gasp while kissing him back, caught off by his actions while my chest lightened at them, “Is it that hard to get it in your head? It’s easier to get in your pants than to make you understand shit. So we’ll try both together, yeah?”

I could hear him talking to me, but my brain was flooded by how good it felt to have him touch me. It frightened me how much I craved basking in this feeling of belonging to him, his rough hands against my skin, hurting me so good I couldn’t help but kiss him over and over again, moaning in the kiss. Even with his hands roaming all over my body, clawing it so it was burning in the most tasteful way, a huge smile plastered on my face. “More.” I uttered against his lips, my hands traveling to his boxers only to have him wrap his hand around them, “You’re not getting fucked tonight, hands here,” He said bringing them to his neck, “Or here.” He pointed at his waist before bringing his hands back to my ass and moving me a bit higher on him—he then grazed them up my body so they were on my cheeks and pulled me down for a kiss, “But not on my dick.”

Maybe I was disappointed to hear that but at the same time, I was enjoying just being close to him. So I cradled his face and nodded, he then continued, “But tell you what, if you’re that desperate, you can fuck yourself. I’m sure I have some—” “No, I don’t. I’ll wait.” I paused and slowly got off of him, hearing him scoff. I wanted to have sex with him, to feel him for all he was but he was right, even if he hadn’t said so. We were both tired. “I’ll wait, but… can you hold me until I fall asleep?” It felt stupid to ask him that. I never believed him to be the type to do such a thing, but if I didn’t try, I couldn’t know. I still asked. His hands that had returned to my hips guided one of my legs between his and one on top of them as he brought me closer. His arm reached to the side and turned off the light before resting on his stomach while his other hand was behind my head, bringing it against his chest, “Hands on me. If you start crying, don’t wipe it on me.” He muttered, but I couldn’t help but smile tiredly as I held him closer. Hearing his heartbeat was soothing, it broke the silence but so did my voice after I pressed a kiss on his chest, making him tense up shortly before relaxing.

“Thank you.”

For making me feel safe.

Because even if he was the reason I had ended up in all those mind-breaking situations, nothing forced him to take care of me. And yet he did, he promised me safety and he held his promise.

I couldn’t ask for more, but he still gave more.

Never had I thought I’d ever get attached to him, but I did—that was a lie. I wasn’t attached, it was something deeper than that, something scarier. I was addicted to him, I wanted to depend on him because he loved that, being in control, because he loved me.

I was his and he was mine.

And if I had told Mikey I would kill for him, for Bonten…

I would do worse things if this man, this murderer that was Hanma Shuji, asked me.

I wouldn’t hesitate, because I trusted him—his judgment. I was still alive because of him, so nothing could go wrong if I followed him to the end.

And knowing he would also kill for me… made me smile.

Why did it make me smile?

Had I truly gone mad?

Had the darkness spread that fast?

Maybe I did not want to go back to something normal, maybe I just wanted him.

His insanity sounded… entertaining, thrilling. I wanted more of it. I was going to have more of it, make it mine.

[Part 19]