#i emphatically ranted to her after that but she just kept going back to...

[adultwithoutsupervision]

Barbie Princess and the Pauper

I want to talk about what might be the greatest movie ever created: Barbie the Princess and the Pauper. I’ve been in love with this movie since I was three years old, aka when it came out, as you can propably tell. Beware that spoilers are below.

Barbie movies tend to get a lot of shit in the media, mostly for not being inclusive seeing as the characters generally are white and thin, and I don’t mean to invalidate those issues because I do see them. However, in this ’essay’ I want to tell the story of why they, especially the princess and the pauper, are still such amazing and nurturing stories. I’ll focus on what parts I think makes it such a story and perhaps you’ll find ways to incorporate them into your own stories, or at the very least be inspired by them.

In case there is anyone who hasn’t seen the movie I’ll summarize it;

Barbie is Princess Anneliese, only child of the Queen to a kingdom who is running out of money. Their main income has always been there gold mines but they have secretly been emptied by the Queen’s advisor, Preminger, as he wants to force the Queen to marry him (so that he will be king) to gain access to his immense wealth (the gold from the mines). The Queen choses to arrange a marriage between Anneliese and a neighbouring rich King, Dominick, instead. Erika on the other hand is a poor seamstress who dreams of being a singer but is stuck paying of a loan that her parents took from an evil dressshop owner. Both her and Anneliese are driven by their sense of duty and when they by chance meet and realize that they’re identical except for their haircolours and a birthmark they instantly become friends. Before Anneliese and Dominick can meet, Preminger kidnaps Anneliese and makes it look as if she has run away to avoid the marriage. Erika pretends to be Anneliese in order to keep the proposal available and thus save the kingdom while Julian, the man Anneliese actually wants to marry, tries to find her. As you’ve probably figured it eventually ends well with Preminger imprisoned and the arranged marriage called off. During her capture, Anneliese is held in the mines for sometime and realize that the stones in it are actaully jewels so they don’t need Dominick’s money anymore and she can marry Julian instead.

Now, as for why this is an amazing story:

• The friendship between Anneliese and Erika. When they first meet Erika is singing in the street as she tries to earn money to pay off her debt, Anneliese gives her a bit off money and they start talking. They are both shocked when they see that they’re practically identical and start talking about their lives. It quickly becomes apparent that neither is satisfied with their current lives, Erika doesnt want to work as a seamstress and Anneliese doesn’t want to marry King Dominick. What I personally love the most about this scene is that it’s Erika who points out their similarities, despite how obvious it is that Anneliese lives a much more privileged life. I think that it shows what a caring and emphatic character Erika is that she is able to see through that and still see their similarities. Later on in the movie, it is ultimately their friendship and the lenghts they go for each other as well as their senses of duty that saves the kingdom.

•The pets. While the humans fight against Preminger, Anneliese’s cat Serafina and Erika’s cat Wolfie both go above and beyond to help them as well as get their own character arcs. The most obvious of them being how Wolfie comes to terms with the fact that he barks instead of meowing like normal cats. Serafina’s arc is more subtle, she is very strong and confident throughout the entire movie but if you pay attention it becomes apparent that she becomes less vain throughout due to the rough situations she goes through to save Anneliese. The two of them even get their own enemy in the shape of Preminger’s arrogant dog. Oh, and Wolfie and Serafina also fall in love and have a litter with super cute kittens!

•King Dominick. When he is first introduced, he has disguised himself as a servant because he wants to see what it’s like when they don’t know that he is king. This speaks to the fact that he doesn’t want to marry just anyone, he actually cares about the person and not the title. His first meeting with ’Anneliese’ is actually Erika and it is clear that be becomes smitten. Shortly after he hears her sing to Wolfie in her quarters when she thinks that she’s alone and that only strenghtens his feelings for her. Later on in the movie when it is revelead by Preminger that Erika is an imposter, Dominick refuses to believe the lies he spews about her and Julian and even goes so far as to assist Erika when she flees from the dungeon. Even after he knows that Erika isn’t the princess he thought that she was he still wants to marry her regardless, showing again that it isn’t the crown or power he loves. That creates a powerful opposition to Preminger btw who does everything out of deisre for power and status. Erika originally turns down his proposal as she wishes to travel the world and try her chance at singing now that she is finally free from her debt to the shopowner, still Dominick continues to love and support her. He waits patiently for months until she returns and only then do they live happily ever after together.

•Now that I’ve talked about Dominick I simply have to gush about Julian as well. He’s the servant who fell maddly in love with the princess despite knowing that they couldn’t be together. He knows Anneliese so well that he realizes she is kidnapped based on the SCENT of the letter ’Anneliese’ aka Preminger left claiming that she had run away. I mean, anyone who recognizes the fricking scent of your letters is instantly marriage material. He then goes out of his way to bring Erika to the castle and teach her how to act like Anneliese so that the marriage arrangement doesn’t fall through, a marriage that would have no doubt broken his heart but he still fights for it because he knows that Anneliese would never want to see their kingdom fall apart even if it means that she will have to sacrifice herself. He is selfless and supports Anneliese constantly, his love for her is complete and incredibly beautiful. When Anneliese confeses her love to him in the mines he still can’t believe it despite that he is such a wonderful person and that makes him very human to me.

•Preminger. I hate the man, but I love the character. His only motivation is power and that is something I find incredibly realistic now that I’ve grown up. He doesn’t care for either Anneliese or the Queen despite trying to get them both to marry him, which becomes extremly clear when he tries to murder Anneliese and Julian out of his own convinience. Preminger is actually quite smart and strategical and if not for the fact that his two goons are complete morons [Noun: loving] he might have actually succeeded. Don’t get me started on those two, they are so ridicolously comedic that I can’t handle it.

•The soundtrack. I’m a sucker for music in general, especially in children’s movies but the songs in this one are my favorite. They’re emotional and raw and play in extremly well with Erika’s ambitions to become a singer once she is free to live her life as she wishes. She, for example, uses a song to lull her prisonguard to sleep in order to escape which is not only clever but also teaches kids that words are powerful.

•I could continue ranting about this movie forever but I’m going to conclude by talking about how strong both Anneliese and Erika are. I’ve mentioned previously how responsible they are because of their duties but I want to evolve further on why they are such amazing role models. Anneliese doesn’t just do the right thing when she thinks that she has to, when mistaken for Erika and locked in by the shopowner Erika works for she helps the other seamstress with the dresses because Anneliese simply refuses to let her do them all by herself. And Erika, she shows that you can follow your dreams even if you fall in love and that sometimes taking risks is worth it. Erika stepped in as Anneliese despite knowing that if caught she would be tried for treason and possibly executed, but she did it for her friend and for her kingdom. Back to Anneliese, when she was stuck and left to die in a mine she kept calm, found a way to save her kingdom, confessed her love to her best friend (Julian) and came up with a genius idea that saved their lives. If those things don’t scream bad ass female role models to you I don’t know what to tell you.

Thanks for reading! I’m @youraveragebooknerd on IG

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans Are Space Orcs “Preparations.”

I’m getting ready for an interesting new arc, I think, so we shall see. I never know what my brain is going  to want to write. 

“Lieutenant, command is yours. Keep the ship operational till I get back. I want low orbit just in case we have to bail out quickly.”

“Yes sir.”

Boots clattered on metal as Commander Vir clattered down the stairs and moved quickly down the hallway. A small entourage of figures walked at his back, “I’m not sure I like this commander.” One of them was saying, “It could more than easily be a trap.”

He sighed, “I know, but the GA wants it done.”

“I would much rather do reconnaissance for a while-”

“And so would I, but the chairwoman made it very clear that we needed to speak with them as soon as possible. I’ve already tried establishing radio contact, and nothing. The only way to go now is the old fashioned way.”

They took a sharp corner, “Tell the council to meet me down in the docking bay.”

“Yes sir,” They scampered off leaving another subordinate to fill their place.

Most of the council was already there when he reached the docking bay. Dr, Krill, Sunny, Dr. Adric, Ramirez Narobi etc. etc.” He paused before them, hands clasped behind his back.

“You shouldn’t go alone.” Came the first announcement.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, which means I want at least six marines, and a group from the diplomacy team. I know I’ve been taking lessons, but I don’t trust myself nearly as much as I trust them.”

“Are we sure it needs to be you at all?” Krill pointed out getting to the heart of the issue on first try, as was usual for him.

Commander Vir turned to look at the little doctor on the spot, “The Kree have demanded a high ranking representative.”

“Then lie to them, send down someone not important and pretend,” Krill said 

He crossed his arms, “We aren’t going to lie. Starting out diplomatic relations with a lie would destabilize the entire foundation of what we are trying to build, no we need proper protection is all.” He turned to look at the others, “Any objections? If so raise your concerns now?’”

Sunny raised a hand, “You're Not going unless you bring proper weapons, otherwise, I say we shouldn't meet them.”

“I agree….. And I have an idea.” The group looked nervously around at each other, “No, you are very much not going to like it, and you will probably argue with me.” He turned to Dr. Adric, and motioned hi to follow, “Ramirez get your marines and-”

“Already done commander.”

“Nice and fast of you.” He turned to look at Ramirez one last time placing a hand on his shoulder, “Are these the marines that have…. Uh…. trained with the new equipment?”

Ramirez  nodded enthusiastically, “Yes sir.”

“Good.” “New equipment?” Krill wondered rather suspiciously.

“Yep you're going to hate that too.” Commander Vir announced knowing that he was going to argue and knowing that people would assume his decision was poor. But he had talked it over -- seriously -- with Ramirez, and they had both agreed it was too good a strategic advantage not to. Ramirez had then talked with the requisitions officer and so on and so forth until the package had been loaded onto the ship not a few days before, but that he thought he might be able to get away with, it was this next thing, they were going to hate.

Floating at the back of the group Conn knew what he was thinking, “They’re going to lock you up.”

“Are you exaggerating, or is that seriously what they are going to do?”

The starborn kept silent  leaving hi on edge as he moved forward and into the equipment room. He knew where it was, they had hardly hidden it as well as they thought they had, and he could tell by the nervous movement of the rest of the crew that they knew too.

Ight as well not keep them waiting.

He walked over to one side of the room, pushed a rack of guns out of the way, reached down and dragged the large silver box onto the open floor.

Immediate uproar.

“No!”

“Not on your life!: “What are you thinking!”

Commander Vir crossed his arms, planting himself before the box with feet spread wide. He let them continue to rant, sunny even tried to pull hi away, but he ducked past both of her arms and stepped back, so he was now standing on the box.

“QUIET ALL OF YOU!”

That made them shut up, at least for the moment.

“Commander, we won’t let you.”

“I know.” 

“Than why even bother bringing it up.” Sunny demanded 

Even Ramirez was looking a little put off..

He turned to look at Dr. Adric, “That is why he is here. I know for a fact that I can do it, and not cause harm to myself. I’m healthy enough mentally to manage, but if the good doctor decides that I am wrong, than I will put it down and stp arguing.”

Below him, the Iron eye logo glinted in the yellowed overhead lights.

Dr. Adric looked on in concern, “What is this about?”

Krill and a few of the others turned to protest, but commander Vir stopped them with a raised hand turning to look at the doctor, “You are aware of my time in operation steel eye?”

He nodded.

“And were you aware that I put the armor back on for the burg war not some months ago?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know about the project.”

He laced his hands together before him, “I published a paper on it. I know that it was a volatile experimental pice of technology that the government attached  directly into the spinal columns and muscles of the forty surviving soldiers. Each machine was powered by the steel eye prosthetic which contained the suit’s power source. I know that they used drugs to stop the excruciating pain, and that they added amphetamines to cause aggression and allow the soldiers to stay up longer…. And I know that more than three fourths of those soldiers are dead now and only have of that fourth is….. Operating functionally as people.”

Commander Vir smiled, “Yes, than you do know. IT took me years to recover from the suit, than I went and put it on again, and that caused a relapse in y mental health to a degree that I almost got myself grounded and , likely, discharged. However, during that time I also spoke to a group of people who were working on a similar project, operation Iron eye.” There was a nervous shifting around the room, “ITs the same thing as stell eye, though it requires no drugs, and no pain. The Trade off is, I had to go in for surgery because the attachments are permanent.” 

He turned around and pulled down the collar of his shirt so Dr. Adric could see the first port just below the base of his skull, “I had these done at a time where I honestly shouldn't have, but I thought this was my only option.” He turned back around, “I am well aware that is not true, but what’s done is done. I have the implants, they cannot be removed, and I have the suit. I might as well use it to protect myself. That is the point? To protect myself and the rest of the crew?”

There was silence for a moment.

“We can’t let you do this.” Dr Katie was saying.

Narobi was shaking her head emphatically .

He turned to look at Dr. Adric, “I leave this decision up to you doc. If I’m not mentally healthy enough to handle it, than I will stop, but you are the expert here and the most unbiased among us.” Dr Adric shifted on the spot nervously. He could see where this was a problem. The unhealthy associations that soldiers were bound to make after an experience like that was…. Horrible to imagine, but the Commander seemed calm, so he supposed there was no issue with trying.

He was a bit nervous about all the eyes that his decision caused. Sunny looked like she was about to beat him to death with her spear, and Dr. Krill seemed intent on poisoning his drink the next time he had the chance.

They took the Iron eye box back to the medical bay, and The three doctors observed the process.

Commander Vir was feeling pretty good as he slid back into the box listening to the connections click into place. Were there some bad memories? Yeah, sure, but he could handle those well enough.

Dr Adric kept a close eye on him as he stood the whirring of hydraulics accompanying his movement. He flexed his fist inside the iron eye suit and turned to look at the others.

Krill was frowning. Sunny was glowering , Dr. Katie wouldn't even look at him. Ramirez looked very, very nervous.

Dr. Adric walked over and checked his pulse, asked a few questions, but finally decided there was no reason to tell him no. 

That pissed off almost everyone else in the room, but commander Vir pulled on the specially made iron eye gear, “You wanted me safe, and this is as safe as I can think of being, and I trust Dr. Adric’s judgement.” With each footstep, metal clattered against metal, and the soft hiss of the hydraulics accompanied him up the hall.

THe others followed in concern and anger.

The crew turned to look their eyes wide looking nervous.

They expected him to do something stupid.

What they didn’t know is that he actually had a practicing mental health professional on his side now, and truth be told, he didn’t feel anything really. Yes he could just as easily compare the experience to the steel-eye suit, but without the pain, the experiences were too different.

Reaching the docking bay for the second time. The marines were already waiting as were the diplomacy team.

Dr Krill cursed, “You arent serious.”

“Krill, I appreciate your opinion as a doctor, but in areas of equipping marines, I trust Ramirez more.”

The line of marines saluted as he drew nearer, their bodies covered by their combat ACUs, and each one wearing a matte black painted jetpack.

He turned, just in time for Ramirez to step forward with another, mounting it to the back plate on the Iron- eye suit, where it clicked satisfyingly into place.

Krill and Sunny both looked as if they were about  to have a conniption. 

He withdrew something from his pocket, “Don’t worry, I did my homework, and read the manual. I don’t plan on even using it if this all goes well.” he looked at the group of them seriously, “This isn’t for fun, everyone, this is for the safety and protection of myself and others. I have a panic button ready in case anything goes wrong, and I will have two more teams of marines on standby in low orbit in case something decides to happen. I have the diplomacy team to speak when I don’t know what to do, and I have the marines for a firefight if it comes to that. THe first sign of trouble and we fly out if we have to.”

He stepped forward a bit, looking around at the concerned and angry faces, “I understand you all are worried, but I have thought this through. I have taken your suggestions, and I am doing everything I can to stay safe.” He looked up at Sunny, “I will be equipped in the way that you suggested.” he turned to Krill and Katie, “We have the medical supplies that you ordered in the bags that were placed in the ready room.”

He turned to Narobi, “You sent in one of your best people to service all of the equipment days ago. I, and these men are as safe as we can be.” 

Maybe one day he wouldn't have to explain his actions to these people, but he understood that, in the past he had made a bunch of poor decisions. This time would not be that time. He had thought of everything, and he had talked to everyone else to consider things he hadn’t thought of. He was listening to his crew, and differing to the knowledge of experts. He didn’t pick the team, he didn’t pick the equipment, and he was going to allow the knowledge of others to carry through this time.

Yes, one day he would be able to make a decision without explaining everything, but today was not that day.

He looked around, “Are there any objections?” He held up a hand to cut Krill off, “On the basis of logic and not being angry at me?”

Krill shut his mouth.

One of the floor technicians jogged up, “The shuttle is ready commander.”

He nodded and turned to the marines, “Load up!” He then turned and ordered a second pilot onto the ship so as not to leave it unmanned when they were gone.

In the confusion, he turned to head towards the ship, but something caught his hand.

He turned and looked up to find Sunny’s golden eyes staring down at him. He could tell she was mad, displeased, and even a little hurt, though she didn’t say any of that.

The one day he thought he had made no mistakes…. And he had.

He looked around quickly, and seeing no one paying attention, he took one of her other hands.

The Iron eye armor impeded a good connection but it would have to do, “I’ll talk to you when I get back.”

SHe remained quiet.

“I know…. I should have told you, and you can kick my ass later, ok?”

His smile fell from his face as she continued to glower.

He squeezed her hands, “Back before you can say Adam is a dipshit.” He squeezed one more time and let go turning towards the shuttle and flexing his shoulders with a hydraulic hiss , the iron eye clattering hungrily with every movement

[honestsycrets]

How About Now? | [Hvitserk x Reader]

❛ pairing | modern!hvitserk x reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ type | you won’t give hvitserk sex. he’s pretty sure he’s gonna die. 

❛ request | Hey, me again ! I was thinking modern Hvitserk dating a plus-size girl and they still haven’t had sex. One day, he confronts her about it and she admits she has never felt comfortable during sex because of shitty lovers probably. Our puppy shows her how a man can enjoy her body 😏. Thanks 🥰 @alicedopey

❛  tw tags | self-conscious reader, plus size reader, drinking.

❛ sy’s notes | listen, okay, its just not my time to write smut and i’m sorry XD I’ll throw some headcanons out there.

Hvitserk was a good boy.

But a good boy who needed sex. He could stay and be good. He swore that he could. But… he was a boy that needed some lovin’ when he was out with his brothers, showing off their girls at dinner. Even Ivar, who Freydis hung off of. His brothers and their wives were all there. While that was good and well, Hvitserk sat holding the neck of his bottle.

He hears your heels clacking in the background. The house party was coming to an end. Torvi made quick work of the dishes while you wiped things down. Gunnhild, of course, helped with Sigurd who rathered the company of women to the annoying bicker of his brothers.

“So,” Ivar says, drawing circles on Freydis’s thigh. “Did you do it?” 

Hvitserk peeps up, recognizing that arrogant prick’s shit-eating grin. He doesn’t know how Ivar heard about their sex life. But nonetheless, Ivar watched all night in fascination as Hvitserk tried his usual moves to no avail. 

“You know the answer to that, Ivar.” 

Hvitserk brings the rim of the mouth of the bottle to his lips, chugging now. Ivar opens his lips to speak again when Hvitserk lurches up, swishing his bottle as if to indicate that it was empty. He trudges to the window where you peered outside, a small skiff of rain pelting the oversoaked grass. It had been raining relentlessly the past few days. 

“Raining?” Hvitserk chucks the bottle in its receptacle. 

“Been raining all week,” you return, looking over your shoulder to Hvitserk. He slid behind you with a low voice, quavering as he slid his hand over your thigh. Of course, he wouldn’t get far. Not with whatever it was bothering you, bothering you. It made it hard to think when you took his hand like that and slid it away from your warmth to your hip. 

“Not now,” you say, and slip away to show his brothers out before the storm began pelting the ground with renewed force. When they were safely out, you find Hvitserk there again-- slumped on the couch with his bottle between his fingers. His head felt light. Like the bottle between his fingertips sucked away all the worries. Whatever kind of mystery crack shit genie of no sex for you was in there, he wasn’t sure. 

“Babe?” you call at last. 

He turns up his crestfallen face, grinning his best ‘make it work!’ face he could muster. All he could do was to tell himself that it would pass, but eventually, he knew he would lose interest. There were only so many times he could be thrown off before he would say, fuck it! At least… if you would not explain why. 

“Hvitserk?” you prompt again.

Hvitserk has gone pallid, finishing off another beer in the time you showed his family out. “Can I grab the spare?” 

“Don’t you want to come cuddle?” 

There’s only so fuckin’ much a man wanted to cuddle. But he doesn’t want to say that when you looked so hopeful for it. Your soft cheeks pressing your lips together in a bright pout. Hvitserk hardly wanted to say no. 

“I’m kinda smashed.” 

You nod emphatically, reaching down to your thick ankles. He watches your dress rise as you loosen the straps to your heels, the slit raising to show the silky line of your panties. Its a strange sensation for sure to be so afraid of his boners. Mostly, because he knew that it wouldn’t go anywhere. But maybe that’s what annoyed him. 

“Liking what you see,” you flirt. His head drops back, the familiar throb of his cock hurting his head as much as his heart. The need is distant like a deep ache in his stomach that he just can’t will away. 

“Why are you fuckin’ doin’ this to me,” Hvitsek snaps, and he doesn’t feel it really, but the tears are beading at his eyes. You step out of your shoes in surprise, rising up to look at him. Hvitserk never cried. Not that he would show it, anyway. He stands up, turning away from you as he staggers toward the spare. 

You reach out to grab his hand, running your nails over his wrist and tugging him back. He drops the empty beer bottle, and your hand takes his other hand, keeping him in place. Your bright eyes focus upon him. 

“Hvitserk, what is it?” 

He doesn’t know the word for it. A want or a need for the intimacy you kept shutting him out from. “Are you not attracted to me or somethin’?”

As if that was the answer to your question, you lean back. Now he expected his own. While his brothers were ranting on their own sex lives, Hvitserk sat there with you, not saying and not denying anything. He wants intimacy. The comfortable, safe place where he could cherish you without worrying about whether he was making you happy or not.

“I…” you find the words coming out in shaky heaves. 

“Yeah,” he cuts you off, pulling his hands free. “I got it.” 

“No-- Hvitserk, no!” You stop him. His limbs were heavy and clunky, refusing to carry him to the spare bedroom where he could nurse his boner and pass out in a sea of self-deprecation. “It’s just-- sex never… works.” 

You had him there. 

“Works?” he repeats. “What--” 

“I never like it.” 

“Why?” he finds himself asking. 

“When you are my size, it is uncomfortable to make love.” You say, gliding your hands up his arm. It’s almost as if you suddenly realize that this was something he wanted. “But… I love you. I’ll do it for you.” 

You would do it for him. It’s meant to be something sweet, endearing, lovely-- but to Hvitserk, it sounds like settling. Doing it just to do it. With Hvitserk, that wasn’t something that was going to happen. 

“Sexy,” Hvitserk grumbles, and you have to laugh because it must sound as ridiculous to him as it had to you. He flicks his bottle into the trash, and in its place, his hands find their way back around the soft rolls of your waist. He pinches you there, and you swat him, blood rushing to your cheeks. “Hvitserk, knock it off.” 

“C’mon,” Hvitserk gleams, and you hate how easy it is to give credence to his words. “Gimme a chance.” 

A chance, you sigh out loud. Just one, you tell him, and he’s already outlining it in his head. You’re stepping toward the room, and he snorts gently, a soft but amused noise that reverberates off the thin walls of your home. 

“What is it?” you say. 

“C’mon,” Hvitserk pulls you toward the room, and there’s dread there, of not being ready. A chance to feel pain, or not be moist enough, or-- “Let’s cuddle.” 

Oh. That’s not at all what you thought it would be.

“Cuddle?” 

“Yeah,” Hvitserk snorts, waddling to the side. You support him with your hand to your chest. “‘M too fucked up to have sex. ‘Sides,” he pauses. “I wanna plan this out right.” 

You smile. After all that fuss, his scene about never having sex ever, he wasn’t about to do this now? “You’re a dumb-shit, Hvitserk.” 

“Yep. I know.” 

@flowers-in-your-hayr @fireangel1978 @artxfuck

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol​ @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever

[angeldolanx]

Chapter 27. /- say sorry/

31.10.'20

I don't really went to parties recently. I always find something else to do at nights on my own or even with Corinna or Grayson. But since Corinna talked about her birthday in the past one week every day, I was sure I am not gonna miss it. At the same time I've had a light gut feeling. Grayson and Ethan are gonna be there, and of course Jeff, and Corinna's other friends too. We trust in each other with Grayson, but both of us loves to show that we are each other's.

" Are you sure this dress looks okay on me?" asked Corinna for the tenth times, while I tried to do her make up for the night.

"You look fab, what else do you want?"

" I am just excited, I never planned a birthday party for myself before."

"It's gonna be fun, don't worry" I said with a smile. I tried to do a nice smokey eye and added some sparkles too, since it's her day and she can be extra. After I finished her makeup with a light pink lip gloss I started to curl her hair and to make it stay curly longer I pinned up the sections. It was funny how we looked. I only wore a pink hoodie, no make up, messy hair while Corinna at this point looked like a bride.

"Oh it looks so good, thank you" hugged me Corinna, after she stepped in front of the mirror and checked out her makeup. "What am I gonna do without you?" she sighed.

" Hey, it's your birthday we don't talk about that today. I am still here for a few more weeks and I am not gonna die after I go home either. We can still see each other" I replied. With these stuff I tried to convince myself and her too to be honest. Maybe staying friends with Corinna and with other few people is gonna be easier than staying in a relationship with someone..

While I sat down in front of the mirror and tried to do my make up and curl my hair, Corinna kept dancing around in the room with a glass of vodka in her hand. She was crazy. I tried to deepen up my eyes with a brown color and put a red lipstick on to make my make up more exciting. I knew Grayson loves the color red on me and I also kinda liked it on myself too, so I thought why not.

One hour later I checked myself out in the mirror for the last time and put on my perfume. I ended up wearing a white highwaisted trouser with a white blazer and a black lace bralette underneath. I looked kinda sexy and still sophisticated at the same time, it depended on how much the blazer opened on me.

We arrived earlier than everyone else to the place with Corinna to check out everything to be perfect for the night.

Almost half an hour later the guests started to arrive slowly. I knew Corinna was a popular girl, but I was still surprised how the people started to fill the whole place that she ranted. There was a lot of people who I knew, there was some who I saw a few times but most of them were strangers for me. The loud music and lazers filled the place, while the neon lights danced on everyone's faces, who danced around to the music, while I said hi to a few people with a drink in my hand. When I finally saw the twins I went to their direction, but Kristen stood in front of me and pulled me to dance with them. Grayson caught my eyes, sent a light smile to me and to be honest I rather would have went up to him, but I didn't wanted to be rude so I joined to the girls for a dance after I finished my drink. I pulled Corinna to come with me too and laughed how she needed to have a few minutes to catch her balance before he left my hands and started to dance. I moved around my hips with a big smile on my face and sang the song's lyrics with the girls around me. I wasn't even surprised when I looked to the twin's direction and they both watched me then smiled when they sew that I am looking at them and just shook my head because of their strong gaze.

A few songs later it's really become a torture to not going to them, so I escaped myself from the crowd and tried to went to their direction. I needed to laugh when Zane, one of Corinna's friend caught my hands and pulled me to their squad's direction. When I ended up facing with Jeff I knew it's gonna be interesting. I tried to act normal as much as possible while I said hi to everyone with a quick hug and asked them what's up. I still felt like Jeff's hug was a lot tighter and longer then the other's, but I didn't really payed attention to that and tried to answer nicely to his question about where was I since he doesn't saw me in ages. I didn't really went to parties where we could meet and he wasn't too bothered about reaching out to me since that new years eve kiss.

" I haven’t really went to parties recently and everyone knows that's the only place to meet you guys" I said. He was about to answer when Zane stepped close next to me and put his hand around my shoulder before he started shouting to my ear.

"What do you drink with us?"

" You shouldn't drink anything more, that's for sure" I laughed and stepped away from him. Jeff noticed what I did and with a light laugh he put his arm around Zane's shoulder to make him step away from me and not to be so close to me.

"Hi guys, finally you are here" come up to us Corinna thank god, so since every boy started to listen to her I was able to leave them and finally go to the twins's direction.

" Finally Miss popular is here" said Ethan with a grin on his face, while I just rolled my eyes on his comment and hugged him.

As soon as I moved away from Ethan and looked at Grayson, he grabbed my waist and pulled me closer to his body to give me a hard kiss. His kiss was way too passionate and hard for just a welcoming kiss. At the same time it was such a good feeling to finally be in his arms and feel his sent.

" Someone is jealous " I mumbled to his ear when we broke our kiss but I was still close to his body.

" I'm just showing you where you belong " he said while looked deep into my eyes and one of his hand moved down to my butt.

"Oh, god" I shook my head with a light smile because of his jealousy. Before we even came here I already knew that he is gonna hate the fact that Jeff and I are even under them same roof after that new years eve party. But I couldn't blame him, I would probably act the same - or even worst- if I would be in his shoes.

I spent the rest of the night mostly with the boys. I wasn't really in the mood to dance around or get drunk with Corinna, so I stayed next to them and still enjoyed the party. It was nearly two am when we decided to leave. Before we could step out from the door we met with the boys's few friends, or I don't even know who they were. Since I didn't wanted to stood awkwardly there for the time they spoke I went out to in front of the building and rather wait for them there. As soon as I stepped out I froze for a second when I saw Jeff there, with Zane next to him, who sat in the ground and probably were out of this world.

"Wow, he really went off" I shook my head. It would be really awkward if I just stand there in silent.

"Yeah " he sighed." I didn't know you have a boyfriend" he added and looked deep into my eyes. I felt like his dark brown eyes stared into my soul, and he almost seemed like a little puppy who's feelings are hurt. It was funny, because since that party we never met, he never texted me or anything. He didn't know I was with someone, so there isn't really a explanation there. He just only remembers me when we met I guess. Maybe that's why I don't even felt bad for him seeing me with someone else. It's been long months.

" Uhm, it's complicated " I crossed my hands in front of my chest and stood awkwardly from my one leg to the other. I was still not too sure about how to talk about Grayson for others. People who are close to us are know what's the drill, but I don't know what to say to other's. I don't wanna say it's nothing, but at the same time I don't wanna create a whole ass twitter drama or something because of saying staff to people who I should not trust.

" I mean we should meet sometimes, if it's not serious."

" It is serious, so don't even dream about it dude" said suddenly Grayson, who just came up next to me. As I looked up at him and saw how angry he was for nothing I just took a deep sigh.

" Gray" I said to try to make him understand that it's not a big deal and we just talked. I understood that he was jealous, but Jeff didn't really deserved this situation because of me. He was always nice and never intrusive to me.

"Okay, I got it " put up his hands in front of his chest Jeff, but there was still a smile on his face. He probably thought that Grayson's acting was funny or I don't know, but this whole thing started to seem bad and I hated it.

"Just try to hit on her one more time and.." started Grayson and wanted to step closer to Jeff, but Ethan grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. It was scary to see how angry he was. Somewhere deep down I liked that he is annoyed when he see's me with someone else, but at the same time I was angry at him because he didn't let me handle this situation with Jeff on my own.

"Grayson, come on let's go" I said more emphatically.

I saw how he took a deep sigh while he still wanted to kill Jeff with his eyes, but he let Ethan to pull him away then angrily pulled out his hands from Ethan's hold when they were a few meters away from us and was on there way to the car.

" I'm sorry"I said to Jeff.

"It's okay, I would probably act the same if I would have a girl like you" he responded with a light smile. I shook my head with a quiet laugh and said by to him to go after the boys to the car.

Our way home seemed way too long. I still saw on Grayson how tense he was, but I didn't wanted to start anything in the car, while Ethan doesn't even wanted to get involved in this situation and just put the music's volume more high.

My plan was to get home, I mean to their house, and immediately go to bed, but Ethan decided to stop in a drive through to buy some food. I wasn't too hungry but didn't wanted to be rude either, so I joined them to the livingroom after we got home. I felt Grayson's strong gaze on me as I placed my blazer to the chair and sat down there with the fries in my hands. In a normal night I would have probably chosen the place next to him, but I was still a bit angry so I decided to stay away from him for a little. From the awkward silence Ethan got himself out pretty fast. He ate his launch as quickly as possible and soon went to his room to leave us two alone. I was way too tired to even start to talk about what happened today, so I went to the room, grabbed Grayson's hoodie from the bed and closed myself to the bathroom to take a fast shower.

After I came out from the bathroom Grayson sat on his bed with the phone in his hands, and lifted his head when he heard me coming out and in silent went to the bathroom. I took a big sigh as I tried to figure out what to do, since I feel how he started to make me more and more angry. We were both stubborn and of course if one of us acts like a child and don't talks to the other, the other's gonna join and even gonna be more in silent.

After he came out I still sat on his bed, while he laid down next to me but turned to the other side to not even face me. It was so annoying to see his strong gaze on me but he still doesn't said a word. It would be better if he would start to yell at me or something to say what is on his mind, but the silence killed me.

"How long are you wanna act like this?" I asked and saw how the muscles tightened on his back when he heard my voice.

"Don't even try to say that this is because of me" he replied in a cold voice. I could feel how the angriness fills up my body and I could scream at him even because of the way he talked to me and wasn't able to even face me.

"It is because of you. I don't understand you, I only talked to him like two sentences."

" But what did you talk about? It wasn't a really friendly conversation and I didn't even mentioned yet how that asshole looked at you the whole night " he said now a lot more angrier and sat up in the bed just to look at me and I could saw his hard gaze.

"And why are you angry at me for him looking at me like that? What can I do with it?" I rolled my eyes.

"I am angry at you for you acting like this. Like I am the bad guy for even saying anything about the whole situation " he shook his head and laid back still facing the other side of the bed.

A big sigh left my mouth and I was already way too tired at three am for this, so I stood up, grabbed my pillow and blanket and went out to the living room. I don't know what was this all about with us today. I liked that he was jealous and he wanted to make me feel safe, but at the same time I hated the fact that he doesn't trusts in me. If we ever really end up in a long distance relationship, it's gonna kill us if we keep thinking about where is the other one, with who and why. Okay Jeff was different, probably he was the only men who caught my attention in the past one year next to Grayson, and he knew that. But it could be still better if he keeps this to us and doesn't do that in front of him.

The sofa seemed really comfortable in the living room after I laid down and pulled the blanket on my body. The only issue was the huge window. The moon's light was bothering me, who only likes to sleep in complete darkness but it was alright for tonight, I guess. I stared to the ceiling for long minutes. One of my part wanted to go back to bed next to Grayson and cuddle with him, while the other was stubborn and doesn't wanted to do that at all.

The door's opening noise surprised me, and Grayson's figure maybe surprised me more as he came to my direction. He run his hand through his messy hair before he ended up next to the sofa and he squatted down next to my body. He stared for my eyes for a few seconds before saying anything, and even pushed back my hair behind my ear. He knew how to melt my heart in seconds and knew how to stair to my soul and make my body shake only by looking at me.

" Do you wanna come back?" he broke the silence, but as a response I only shook my head. "You are not easy " he sighed. I pressed my lips to a thin line to hold back my answer, which is yes but he loves me like this. When he realized that he's not gonna convince me to go back with him he stood up, put his hand on my waist and pulled me to the side of the sofa.

"What are you doing?" I asked, but now he was the one who left me without a answer and just climbed over me to the inner side of the sofa and laid down next to me. He pulled my body as close to his as he could and put my blanket over our body. When he got comfortable his hand still rested on my stomach to make sure I don't pull away.

I took a deep sigh when I felt his warm breath against the back of my neck, then I felt how his soft lips met with my skin. The fact that he came after me already melted my heart, but these soft kisses and touches were my weakness. I closed my eyes and let my body to finally relax in his arms while I pushed myself even more back to be as close to him as possible.

"I am sorry, for acting like that today" I whispered. I needed time to admit that in his shoes I would have acted the same, but I was way too stubborn to say this earlier.

"You are my angel, even if this angel is a brat sometimes" he mumbled to my skin next to a light giggle, while his hands moved under the hoodie and didn't stopped till he touched the tattoo under my boob. A light smile spread on my face because of his words and his touches. We were each other's. And yes sometimes we acted crazy, but in the end of the day we always knew that there is no way to fall asleep while we were angry at each other.

The next morning I needed a few minutes to figure out where I was after I woke up and the sun's shined directly to my face. I felt like my whole body was numb since I woke up in the same position as we fall asleep yesterday. Our legs with Grayson tangled under the blanket, his hand held me close to his body still while I felt his study breathing in the back of my neck. I started to get used to that he holds me even closer when he is asleep and every time I thought about that my heart warmed. As well as the memories from yesterday. Grayson handled that situation in such a cute way and yes I am aware of how much I am not an easy type, but he knows how to handle me that's for sure.

" Mornin'" he mumbled a few moments later next to a big yawn Grayson. I carefully tried to turn to the other side to face him without falling of from the sofa. As soon as I looked at his cute morning face and messy hair a light smile spread on my face.

"Good morning, handsome" I replied and pulled out my hand under the blanket and placed it on his unshaved face. That smile just got even bigger on my face when I saw how he leaned more into my hand as he felt my touch and closed his eyes next to a sigh. Yes he was a large, strong man but there was this cute side of him, that always wanted to cuddle and feel my touches and I absolutely adored that side of him as well.

"Oh my god, I thought you are having sex where I used to eat, fuck " said Ethan from the kitchen and a few moments later he came to the living room and frowned his eyebrows at us. I just giggled on his words and his confused face.

"Bro, we just slept there" rolled his eyes Grayson and stretched his arms, but later he wrapped them around me again and pulled me even closer to his chest.

" I swear to god you two are not normal" ended the conversation E, and went out to the yard with his phone and cafe in his hands.

We still laid there for a few minutes. Gray's arms moved around on my back and my butt,  I didn't really payed attention that much till his left hand moved to my stomach, then down to the side of my pants and he pushed me to my back.

"Gray" I warned him. My voice was still quiet and sleepy and I didn't even lifted my head from his chest, until he touched me exactly there. "Grayson?" I looked up to his eyes, while he had just a cheeky smile on his face.

"Shh, just enjoy " he leaned down, mumbled to my ear and left a few kisses and bites on my neck. I tried to hold back my satisfied sigh, when he pushed his hands under the material and started to write slow, small circles on my clit.

" Ethan is in the yard and the door is open" I whispered. As much as I am protested with my words, as much my body showed him how much I enjoyed it. I felt how my body tensing up and slowly burning. My stomach tightened and a nice tingling feeling moved around on my body because of his steady movements on me.

"Then you need to be a good girl and stay quet I guess" he said with a grin as he saw that I bit my lip and pushed my head back to the pillow.

"You are an idiot" I rolled my eyes. Hearing my words he moved his hands lower, and pushed in two fingers and immediately started to move them in and out. I was already so wet and I really needed to hold back the moans that wanted to leave my month.

"It's not the best time to roll your eyes on me, princess " he mumbled to my ear, and started to move his fingers deeper and more fast. My whole body started to shake and it was a torture to not scream because of how good it felt. Everything was so insensitive. I wasn't prepared to do this in a random morning and the spontaneity and the thought that we could get caught in any time just made it even more good and exciting for me.

"Oh, fuck" I hid my face to his neck when I started to feel the knot tightening in my stomach. Gray kept his steady fast rhythm and even tortured me as he slowed down, pushed his fingers deeper then started to move fast again. I wish I could moan out his name loud, but all I did was quite whimpers that made him smile as he watched my face and sometimes left a few bites on my neck." Yes, right there " I breathed when he hit the perfect spot. I closed my eyes tight, my hands were in a strong fist as the feeling bult in my body, till my whole body shook because of my intense orgasm. A quiet moan left my mouth that I couldn't hold back, but it was still quite enough to Ethan not hear it.

" Let's go somewhere to get breakfast " came back suddenly Ethan to the livingroom and my heart stopped for a second. My breathing was still heavy and I looked deep into Gray's eyes who's finger still moved in me slowly to ride out my orgasm.

"Give us twenty minutes to get ready then we can go" said Grayson and I could tell how he tried to hold back that huge grin on his face. His hand slowly left my body under the blanket while my legs still shake a little bit from my orgasm.

"15 maximum, I am starving" replied E and set down to the chair with his phone on his hands. The thought that if he comes back one minute earlier he would have caught us killed me and made me laugh. It was crazy. Compared to the fact that he acted so normal,I was sure he doesn't suspected anything, thank god.

When I felt Grayson's touch on my thigh I immediately sat up and. My body was still too sensitive to not have a reaction to his hands on me. He just smiled as he looked after me, while I just stood up and went straight to his room and to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Our relationship was everything just not boring. We were crazy people with crazy things. We fought, teased each other, then apologized to each other. One thing for sure, he loved each other day by day more and more. I could be a woman one hundred percent next to him, and even though I was annoyed for him doing this to me in the morning, I still liked it. I always hated when someone tried to tell me what to do, tell me to not say or do what I did, but in bed I loved when he was the one who dominated and Grayson for sure knew and enjoyed it.

While I started to get ready I was deep in my thoughts and started to think about yesterday again. I felt bed, maybe that's just showed even more how much I loved him. I didn't wanted to make him feel unsure about me being honest or faithful to him. We can be in the same place or hundreds and thousands of miles away, i would never be able to be with someone else. Of course I ended up overthinking it. In the end I've had a full nervous feeling in my stomach, even though we already closed it yesterday. Since I didn't wanted this feeling to get even more into my head, I wasn't even ready, my make up was just half done, but I went out to find Grayson. Their deep voices came from the kitchen, so I went there and as soon as I stepped to the kitchen I went in front of Grayson and crossed my arms around his neck on my tippy toes. Gray look down at me with a confused look but still put his hands around my waist and hugged me back.

" I love you" I mumbled quietly, and already felt my face heating up as I started to blush. I was not that type who did these kind of things, especially not in front of Ethan. Grayson knew that maybe that's why he hugged me tighter when he heard my words and a light smile spread on his face.

" I love you too, but should I understand this? Where is the girl, that I know and is my girlfriend?" he asked and made me giggle.

" I..mm It's just, whatever" I shook my head and moved away from him. I wanted to go out as soon as as possible from the kitchen, but Grayson caught my wrist and he pulled me back. As he looked into my eyes his face was a lot more serious and it almost seemed like he was worried as he looked down at me and clasped our hands next to our body.

"What's wrong?"

" Nothing, I just thought about yesterday and I felt bad" I replied and looked away and started to stare to the floor instead of his beautiful eyes.

" Angel" he sighed and pulled me closer again as I hugged his waist and enjoyed how his sent filled my nose and his body heat warmed up my body. "Nothing happened yesterday, stop thinking about it. We were both angry and dumb " he mumbled and placed a kiss in my forehead before I moved away.

"Wow the ice queen can do this too? " teased Ethan, and got a angry look immediately from me.

"Shut up" I giggled.

This side of me was new to me too. I was never that emotional type, but now I was not as scared to show it as before. I felt like my heart was icy when I came here to America and Grayson slowly started to melt it down. It's crazy that in this huge word you only need one person, who can turn your whole life into a different direction and make the everydays magical.

- say sorry √

[argylemnwrites]

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment - Chapter 12

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (Canon Divergent from Book 2, Chapter 15)

Word Count: ~4500

Rating: R (adult language - and lots of it)

Summary: Drake and Riley struggle to understand each other’s point of view and balance their own needs with each other’s. At the same time, Olivia has an interesting conversation with her aunt.

Author’s Note: This series diverges from TRR canon, where instead of waiting to discuss his relationship with Riley until their last night in NYC, leaving her a note while Liam is proposing to her, Drake tackles this topic as soon as possible after Tariq makes his statement and Riley’s name is cleared. To catch up on this series, you can find the previous chapters in my masterlist (link is located in my bio).

Riley felt like she might faint. Drake’s words hit her emotionally before she could even fully process them. She knew this was going to happen. She’d known it since the first attack.

“I should have known you would do this to me.”

“Liu, no. This doesn’t have anything to do with-”

“Bullshit this doesn’t have anything to do with me! Drake, do you even hear yourself right now?”

Drake sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know this seems bad, but you have to believe me-”

“I don’t have to do anything,” she threw out, the frustration and fear bubbling out of her, “Not when you come in here and drop this bomb on me.”

“I’m trying to explain, Liu,” he said, eyes downcast and heavy sighs escaping him, “It’s not like I plan to stay here forever. I just have to take care of some things.”

“What things?”

“Dumb doesn’t suit you, Liu. You know what I’m talking about here.”

“Fine. How long?”

“What?” he asked, clearly thrown by her rapid redirection of the conversation.

“How much longer do you need to stay here?”

“Liu…”

“It’s a simple question, Drake,” she said, crossing her arms and stepping up in front of him, getting close enough he had to make eye contact, “You’re telling me that your staying here isn’t forever. I just want to know how long you are planning on remaining in Cordonia.”

He swallowed roughly, but kept his eyes locked on hers. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t you see why that might be frustrating to me?”

“I know, but I don’t know what else to say. I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m sorry, but I don’t know how long this will take.”

“Fine, you won’t give me a timeline,” she said, stepping away from him and starting to pace across the room, “Then at least tell me what needs to happen before you’ll consider leaving.”

“Come on, Riley. It’s not like I can make a checklist here.”

She pivoted back toward him, gesturing emphatically, “Do you see how this doesn’t look good from where I’m standing?”

“I get that, but this is something I need to do. I have to make things right here, and I think I’ve pretty much proved that it won’t happen if I’m in New York by this point.”

Riley shook her head, trying to will herself not to cry, at least not yet. Once the tears started flowing, she knew it would be harder for her to make her point, but she just felt so ambushed right now. “The worst part is I’m not supposed to get mad at you because your reason for leaving me is a noble one.”

“Leaving you? No, Riley, I would never-”

“See, you say you would never, but the fact is that you just told me you plan to stay in a different country indefinitely. That feels an awful lot like you leaving me.”

Drake ran his hands over his face, clearly trying to come up with the right thing to say. “This won’t be forever, Liu.”

Riley couldn’t stop the tears at this point. “Are you sure about that?”

“Riley, believe me I’m coming back,” he said, grabbing her by her shoulders, staring at her with so much intensity. It was clear he believed his words, but Riley couldn’t help but feel he was being naive. There would always be a reason for him to stay. Liam would face some new stress, Savannah would need his help, and he would never say no. This did not feel like it was going to be temporary.

Drake seemed to be emboldened by the fact that she hadn’t moved away from his touch, tugging her into a loose hug. But Riley couldn’t find it in herself to uncross her arms and hug him back. Her mind was still swirling, racing, half trying to find a way to convince him to come back with her and half trying to reel her emotions back under control. Her thoughts were all over the place, but one thread kept weaving its way through all of them.

“How long have you known?”

“What?” Drake pulled back, not following her train of thought.

“How long have you known that you were going to stay in Cordonia?”

“Just today.”

“Come on, Drake. You can’t expect me to believe that.”

The first flicker of anything other than sadness and guilt flashed across his face at those words, fire lighting in his eyes for the first time she could remember since he’d found out about Constantine’s death, “Why wouldn’t you believe me? What have I ever done to you that you won’t trust me on this?”

“Maybe the fact that you clearly hate living in New York and have not made any real attempts to fit in there?”

“No attempts- Shit, Liu,” he fumbled for words briefly as he ran his hand through his hair before starting again, “I hunted endlessly for jobs, all of which sounded awful. I started to learn my way around your noisy, crowded neighborhood. I took care of your dog and cooked you meals. I came down to see you at work every night. Tell me what fucking more I could have done to fit in!”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe come out for drinks with me and my friends? Tried to get to know the owner of the diner or form any sort of friendship there? Join a gym and get to know some guys? Basically anything other than retreating to the apartment in your free time and turning yourself into some sort of hermit?” Riley could practically feel the sarcasm dripping from her words at this point, matching the tears that continued to trickle down her cheeks.

“You knew I wasn’t some goddamn social butterfly, and you insisted you wanted to be together anyway. If you wanted to be with someone who was gonna be the perfect boyfriend to take out and show off to your friends, you should have just stayed with Liam!”

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you I DON’T FUCKING WANT TO BE WITH LIAM?” she yelled, anger rapidly overriding her other storm of emotions. “I’ve told you this for months! Stop fucking doubting me!”

“Why is it when I have doubts about you and Liam, I’m the one in the wrong, but when you have doubts about me coming back to New York, I’m still the one in the wrong?” he growled, hands waving between the two of them in frustration.  “It’s a bunch of bullshit that your insecurities are worth addressing, but mine are somehow insane and you can just shit all over them.”

“Except you have no evidence that I have any desire to be with Liam. My fears are very founded, Drake. You have been halfway to Cordonia since the night of the first attack. You never even unpacked your fucking suitcase.” Riley paused to take a breath before the root of it all spilled out of her.  “Hell, I practically had to drag you into this relationship. You may tell me you aren’t leaving me, but your actions have always told a very different story.”

Drake opened his mouth as if to respond, but paused for several tense moments before he finally said, “I’m not sure which half of that is more wrong. Did I just imagine you flirting with Liam? Kissing Liam? Pursuing a relationship with him for months during the social season while whatever the hell was going on between us grew into some fucking dirty secret?”

Riley’s eyes dropped to ground. He wasn’t wrong, but those early interactions with Liam felt like a lifetime ago. Drake must have sensed her guilt, because he continued his rant at a softer volume and pace. “Am I just supposed to pretend that those first few months didn’t happen? Because I fucking can’t, Liu. And I know I should move past it and let it go, but every time I fail you, I can’t help it. My brain just goes there. And it’s hard to shake.

“As far as my actions, I don’t know what to stay other than I stayed. I may have been grumpy. I may have been unhappy. But I fucking stayed because I wanted to be with you, no matter the cost.”

Riley scowled at that, “Don’t turn yourself into some martyr here.”

“Sorry, I know I’m not saying this right. I’m just trying to tell you that what we have mattered more to me than all the rest of the bullshit. You mattered more.”

“Until now.”

Drake sighed at that. “Being back here, it’s clear that I need to stick around a little longer. Liam needs-”

“Of fucking course he does. Tell me, do you plan to put Liam’s needs above mine forever, or is this just your guilty conscience talking?”

“He’s my best friend! I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to say you’ll come home with me!”

The plea burst out before Riley could stop herself. It was completely against her better judgement, and she knew his answer before he could even react, but Drake’s eyes fell to the floor before he said, “You know I can’t do that.” His voice was quieter, more cautious.

“Because you have to resolve things here, or because New York isn’t home to you?”

The silence seemed to stretch on forever before he finally replied, “Riley…”

“It’s fine. I knew this would probably happen if you came back here. Give me my keys.”

“No, Riley.”

“If you decide you want to come back, you can take them again. But I can’t risk having to pay to have the building rekeyed if you don’t.”

“I swear I’m coming back. I feel like if I give you the keys, then I am acting like I don’t want to be with you. I love you, Riley. I don’t want to break up. Do you?”

“Of course I don’t want to break up, but I have to be realistic about this, and the fact is that there is a decent chance you are going to stay here. Getting left by a boyfriend is bad enough, I’m not going to pay hundreds of dollars on top of that because he was trying to prove a point.”

“You just told me my actions make you think I have one foot out the door, and you expect me to just hand over my keys? Liu, I’m not that much of an idiot.”

Riley wiped away some tears. She appreciated what Drake was saying, appreciated his desire to show her he intended to come back. But the problem wasn’t that she thought he intended to stay in Cordonia forever. It just seemed likely that things would end up shaking out that way. She may not have known Drake for very long, but she knew that once he stayed to be with Liam, he was going to be loyal. With a terror threat, with him losing his dad, there was just no way she was going to get him back.

“Maybe I could move here with him,” she thought, but she quickly squashed that idea, at least right now. Her being here was clearly a barrier preventing whatever discussion needed to take place between Drake and Liam. Plus, Drake had not asked her to stay. Surely, if he wanted her here, he would have posed the question.

As if he could read her mind, Drake continued, stepping up to Riley and cupping her cheek, “This isn’t a breakup, Liu. This is just something I gotta do on my own. Don’t make it a breakup by taking back the keys. Please, Riley.”

He ran his hand through her hair, staring at her with desperation in his eyes. He looked as broken as she felt. He always did understand her in a way no one else seemed to.

Before she could stop herself, Riley took a half step forward, completely closing the distance between them as she threw her hands around his neck and yanked him down for for a kiss. He responded instantly, groaning as he pulled her flush against him.

In the back of her mind, Riley knew this wasn’t the wisest course of action, but as his hands sank under her sweater, gliding over her rib cage, she couldn’t quite be bothered to care. It just felt too damn good. And if she never saw him again, she didn’t want to waste another moment of this night.

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

“I was impressed by you yesterday, Olivia. I thought that you had been spending too much time at the capital and that the festival would be a disaster, but I have to say, you proved me wrong.”

Aunt Lucretia raised her coffee mug toward Olivia in a sort-of toast, as if her words would be flattering.

“Yeah, well just because I don’t do things your way doesn’t mean I don’t have a plan.” Olivia knew her response made her sound like a petulant child, she just couldn’t help it. Years of neglect, but suddenly she pops up just to pass judgment on Olivia’s governing decisions? It was insulting and ridiculous, and Olivia prayed that this successful Winter Festival might send her away once again.

“I confess I thought you were just blindly loyal to the crown, but seeing the way you’ve handled the King, I am happy to acknowledge that you truly are a Nevrakis.”

“What are you talking about, Aunt Lecretia?”

“Why, your affair with King Liam, of course.”

Olivia nearly choked on her sip of coffee at her aunt’s accusation. “I don’t know where you are getting your information from, but I assure you that-”

“Oh, don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. I know he stayed in your office alone with you very late after the ball the other night. Smart of you to use your office instead of either of your rooms, I might add. Will keep suspicion low.”

Olivia was floored by her aunt’s conclusion. Did a private conversation with Liam really set off rumors of a sexual relationship? She was the Duchess of Lythikos, for fuck’s sake! There were hundreds of reasons for her to meet privately with the King. She didn’t want to reveal the truth too early, though. She didn’t know where her aunt was going with this, and if her aunt was in a sharing mood, it might be best to play things close to her vest for now.

“I might need to make some changes if my staff is gossiping with you about my romantic involvement with him.” There, that didn’t convey too much, and hopefully it would get Aunt Lucretia talking.

“Oh no, my dear. They just told me where he was when I was looking for him toward the end of the ball that night. I put two and two together when I thought about how much time you are spending at the capital. It’s very smart, really. Men always grow to resent their wives, but a mistress can influence things for a long time if she knows what she’s doing.

“When I heard you lost out on an engagement to Madeleine Richards, I thought you must be a complete waste of the Nevrakis name. It’s why I had to hire PIs to follow some of the other members of court, to see if there were any scandals that might disrupt his commitment to her. It’s how I found out that our dear king was so partial to a common waitress from America. I’ve been wondering, did you encourage her relationship with the commoner Walker, or was that just a fortuitous coincidence?”

Olivia contemplated her response carefully. She needed to keep her aunt talking, that much was clear. “Well, their attraction didn’t take much encouragement.”

“Good girl,” said Aunt Lucretia with a wink, “I am so sorry I underestimated you. I wish I had known your plan all along. I fear that my actions may have hindered you at certain points, but you have to understand, I had no idea that you were taking these steps behind the scenes. I’m sorry I had so little faith in you. I should have known a Nevrakis would never just roll over and accept defeat.”

Olivia bypassed the backhanded compliments and focused on the part of her aunt’s statement that had her the most curious. “What do you mean, your actions may have hindered me?”

“Oh, trying to force an abdication kind of undoes all the work you’ve put into building a connection with the King, doesn’t it?”

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek so forcefully she could taste the blood in her mouth, but she needed to keep her expression neutral, no matter how tempting it would be to pick up her knife and stab it into this traitor’s heart. Her aunt was clearly a part of the attacks, possibly even the primary orchestrator, and right now, she thought Olivia was on her side. She had to keep her thinking that way. Olivia raced to try to piece together her aunt’s plan and her end goal here. It had to be to get a Nevrakis on the throne. If Aunt Lucretia was regretting working towards abdication, that would mean that she was hopeful that Liam would produce an heir with her before he did so with Madeleine. Olivia knew how she had to play this.

“Yes, and wouldn’t you agree that producing an heir would be a much more skillful way of gaining power than forcing a messy abdication that will leave the population torn as to who is the rightful leader?”

Lucretia’s lips curled into a wide grin, “I should have had more faith in you. You truly are a Nevrakis through and through, with great strength and cunning. Now that I know your endgame, I have something I think might help you. I have a piece ready to run tomorrow on the Cordonia News Network about this Riley Liu and her relationship with both the king and with Walker.”

“How would that help me?”

“Don’t you see, Olivia? It will highlight his heartbreak for the whole world to see. He will turn to you for comfort, and, shall we say, certain protective measures might be forgotten in the heat of the moment.”

Olivia suppressed a shudder at her aunt’s statement. She had to convince her aunt to delay the story while she figured out how best to handle this whole situation. She also had to get out of the dining room soon. Her anger had reached a dangerous breaking point, and her cover would soon be blown if her temper flared. Olivia knew she had many strengths, but keeping a calm and steady hand really wasn’t one of them.

“Aunt Lucretia, I appreciate the sentiment, but I fear that such a mistake on Liam’s part right now would be a detriment to me in the long run. We do not need to be so hasty; Liam is not sleeping with Madeleine at this point, and they have yet to set a new wedding date. Let me fully gain his trust. Hold off on that story for now, please.”

Aunt Lucretia narrowed her eyes, but nodded after a moment. “Very well, I have some other matters to address now that I fully understand you plan of action. The story can wait, but know that it is available if you need it. I am here to support you. Together, we can get a Nevrakis on the throne, where we rightfully belong.”

“Thank you, Aunt Lucretia,” Olivia replied, grasping her aunt’s bony hand in what she hoped came across as a sign of solidarity. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to head to my office to read through my daily communications.”

“Of course, dear.”

Olivia rose from the table and walked out of the dining room as calmly as possible. When she had made it around several corners, she let out a string of curses under her breath before she pulled out her phone and contacted her driver. She needed to get to the palace now.

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

Riley’s suitcase was fairly small and light, but Drake felt like he was holding hundreds of pounds as he carried it over to baggage screening.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go down. He never wanted his life to turn into this messy, complicated ball of crap. But no matter how he thought about it, at the end of the day, he was letting down one of the two most important people in his life.

He’d gone over things hundreds of times in his mind. Trying to make things work, for Liam and Riley. Finding a way to be there for both of them. But he just couldn’t figure it out. So he’d had to make a choice. He just wasn’t sure it was the right one.

But Liam needed him, that much was clear. Even in the limited time they had spent together since his father’s funeral, Drake could tell that Liam wasn’t coping well. He was smiling too much, plastering on his diplomatic mask all the time. There was the slight tremor in his hands, probably due to the fact that he wasn’t really sleeping and just running on pure caffeine at this point. He hadn’t had any breakfast in front of him the other morning, and he’d basically just moved food around his plate at the dinner after the funeral. He wasn’t handling things at all, and if he didn’t find a way to process some shit soon, Liam was going to shut down.

Riley wasn’t wrong when she said he was staying with Liam out of guilt. Of course he felt guilty, not just for his relationship with Riley, but for not being there for Liam during this crisis, through attacks and his father’s death. It was like university all over again. And again, he choose to be with Liam. He just hoped it wouldn’t cost him his relationship with Riley like it had cost him things with Natalie back then.

Of course, the situation with Riley wasn’t exactly identical to how things had been with Natalie. He’d had the tough conversation with Riley instead of bolting without an in-person goodbye. His text to Natalie after landing in Cordonia had been met with a barrage of expletive-loaded messages, calling him every name under the sun. It had saddened him, but he hadn’t felt regret like he did now. The pain he’d caused Natalie had barely been a blip on the radar. The pain he was causing Riley cut him to his core. But he just couldn’t see a way around it. Not only did he feel a sense of obligation to Liam, one of the few people who had always been there for him, who always looked out for him, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to move forward in his life, in any shape or form, without mending things with Liam. And that clearly wasn’t going to happen long distance if the past month was any indication.

Supporting his friend, saving that bond, might have cost him the woman he was pretty convinced was the love of his life, though. Their talk or fight or whatever the hell last night was had been all over the place. There had been tears. Yelling. Painful confessions. Pleas. Sex. As Riley drifted off to sleep last night, laying with her head against his shoulder and her arm thrown across him, he wasn’t really sure where they stood. This morning, Riley had slept in, not leaving them much time to talk before he had to take her to the airport. The thing that reassured him most was that she’d held his hand the entire drive to the airport and had not requested her keys back since last night. Still, he could sense that she’d thrown up some pretty big walls with him. He just wanted her to keep talking, hell even keep yelling at him. But she was closed off. Guarded. Quiet. He wasn’t used to seeing her like this. Then again, prior to last night, he’d never felt like he did anything that broke her trust. She was obviously protecting herself, but it was endlessly frustrating. The irony of the fact that Riley herself probably felt the same way about him at various points during the social season wasn’t lost on him.

The line for security was blissfully short, but for once, it would have been nice to be held up. To have just a few more minutes with her. He didn’t know when he would see her next, not to mention he didn’t know if he would be able to repair their relationship when he did. A part of him wanted to drag her out of the line. Beg her to stay in Cordonia with him. Tell her how much he needed her by his side. But he knew that part of him was selfish. She had just started rebuilding her life in New York. She had a job; she had friends; she had a home. He couldn’t ask her to give all that up for an indefinite amount of time. Not when she had already given up everything for him.

They were now only two groups back from the security agent. He should say goodbye now. It wasn’t about to get any easier by waiting any longer. All holding off was doing was delaying the inevitable.

“Liu, I-”

“I get it, Drake. I do. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

Drake nodded, dropping his eyes to the ground. All the words that popped into his head felt inadequate. After a few seconds of silence, Riley stepped up to him, her duffle bag gently swinging against his knee.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” She wrapped her arms around him with her words, and Drake felt his own arms pulling her in tighter before he could fully process her goodbye.

“I love you, Riley,” he mumbled against the top of her head.

She held onto him for a few more moments before stepping back from him and moving forward in the queue. There was only one person left ahead of her.

“I’ll let you know when I get home.”

“Liu…”

She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward her for a kiss. It was intense and demanding, desperate and raw. Drake slid his hands through her hair, not knowing when he would get the chance to kiss her again. If she would ever let him kiss her again. All too soon, the sound of a clearing throat interrupted them. It was Riley’s turn to have her passport and ticket verified.

She dropped her bag onto the x-ray machine and stepped through the metal detector, her black hair swinging in her ponytail as she walked toward her terminal. He didn’t take his eyes off her until she rounded the corner. He thought she might not look back at all, but at the last second she turned, her eyes locking on him in an instant. It was hard to tell from a distance, but Drake thought he saw tears trailing down her cheeks. But after a second, she raised her hand and nodded goodbye. Then, she was gone.

Tags: @wickedgypsymoon @thesumofmychoices @cosigottahavefaith @thequeenofcronuts @thequeenchoices @katedrakeohd @carabeth @feartheendlesssummer @jovialyouthmusic @gibbles82 @iplaydrake @sirbeepsalot @ladyangel70 @ao719 @dcbbw

[woofools]

You know what’s another aspect of the show that’s very clever but probably wasn’t done on purpose either?? Coop’s Aura. You look at this chicken and he seems like the most harmless nerd in the world but his Aura is a freaking bird of prey. It’s a PREDATOR (which, admittedly, is too strong a word for a 12 year old but his attitude towards Yin was still really Creepy and Bad so)

I have a lot of mixed feelings towards Coop. There are moments where I can manage to find him a little endearing, and his set-up is even kind of interesting. The idea of a stock nerd character being the mole? And no one suspects him specifically because he’s so nerdy? That’s genius. It’s not a last second reveal either, it’s introduced to us pretty early on. And the jokes that come out of it are even sort of funny! If this had been Coop’s whole shtick, I’d probably really like him.

But it’s not. 

I’m kind of reluctant to say Coop’s a “predator” too, because all else stripped away his character isn’t inherently malicious enough to qualify as such. I will say that his behavior is incredibly predatory, though. And if I may be frank, it’s the reason he leaves such a bad taste in my mouth. 

You’ll have to pardon me here, because I’m about to dip into a complete nonsensical rant, but what the fuck. 

Yin made it explicitly, emphatically clear she wasn’t interested in him. This, presumably, is what drove Coop to go evil in the first place. It’s stated in-universe that as a reward for helping the Night Master take over, quote, “the girl will be [his].”

This is a twelve-year-old saying “yeah, fuck the free world as I know it, fuck the wants and desires of the girl I purportedly love. I’m going to sell out both to get what I want!”

Coop wasn’t even trying to remain anonymous after NM started making his move, so this wasn’t like he had plans to swoop in to “rescue” her to make him seem like the chivalrous hero. Or whatever scenario you could try to apply to argue why he felt this was a fair plan of action. From what we’re shown, Coop was planning to help the Night Master take over the world, presumably kill Yo and Yang, and then keep Yin captive for himself. All with her having the knowledge that he willingly helped murder her brother and mentor. And he didn’t fucking care.

And for what? For fucking what? Because she wasn’t “nice” enough to him. She didn’t blast you into paste on sight, you Six Piece Chicken McFuckwad!! That’s as “nice” as she was obligated to be considering you continually kept harassing her!!!

But trying to get back to the actual ask and not just fly off the rails with rage, I know 100% that Coop’s Aura being a predator wasn’t meant to be indicative of his creepy behavior. Because the show fucking justifies his behavior. More than once, it plays it off as “Yin should just give him a chance!” or “well if Yin hadn’t had been so mean he wouldn’t have turned out that way!” Coop’s heel-face-turn is prompted by Yin indirectly apologizing for... not rolling over and appreciating his interest, I guess?

The show has a lot of gross-out humor, but this is honestly the most disgusting part of the entire series for me. “Creepy” and “bad” are entirely too light of words.

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

tears

#26 off this list. Schneider & Elena, One Day At A Time. Also on AO3. 

Schneider heard Elena before he saw her. Quiet, desperate sobs, the familiar sound of gulping for air. She cried a lot like her mom, fighting it even after she lost the battle.

As he turned the corner on the landing, there was his favorite gay teenage Cuban girl, tucked into the side of the stairwell, sniffling when she saw him, swiping at the tears behind her glasses.

“Hey, Schneider. Don’t you usually take the elevator?”

“Sometimes I like to get in a little cardio. Make sure things look alright, no safety hazards.”

No sobbing tenants, he thought. “You don’t usually take the stairs, though. Everything okay?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Her lack of elaboration worried him. When she wasn’t ranting about social justice, Elena could be a lot quieter than Alex. Things that really hurt, that was the stuff she held onto more tightly.

He wondered where Penelope was, a concern that he absorbed and then let go. She couldn’t be everything to her kids, even if he considered her the best mom in the world. Elena needed allies, other adults.

As the only adult currently in the stairwell, it was up to him to try and help.

“Hey.” He crossed to where Elena was, tears starting to slide down her cheeks again. “Hey, come here.”

“Talk to me,” he added above her head after she accepted the hug. “What happened?”

“It’s my dad,” she said through her tears. “He...he’s been talking to Alex. He’s been seeing Alex--I caught them having pizza.”

Schneider frowned. Between Elena herself and comments from the rest of the family, he was pretty well filled in on the particulars. Victor hadn’t offered her so much as an apology since the quinces. There’d been no word from him at all.

“He’s been going behind your mom’s back? Behind your back?” Schneider kept his grip loose, a careful rejection of the tension he felt thinking about it.

Elena didn’t need his feelings on top of hers, she needed somebody who could just be there. But there was a whole lot of anger he had to bury just then. At Penelope’s close-minded ex, at Elena’s father being not just absent but cruel.

She didn’t deserve that. Nobody did, but especially not Elena.

“I’m really sorry,” Schneider told her as she pulled away. She offered him a wobbly smile and readjusted her glasses, patting his arm in thanks.

“Yeah. Me too. I was surprised to see my dad, but I really expected better from Alex. You know? I thought he was on my side.”

I thought you all were, she added silently, remembering a dance floor full of her friends and family, tears and hugs and a suit made with love enough to withstand even the worst moment of her life.

Schneider nodded, radiating sympathy, and Elena was grateful he’d found her. Everybody should have a Schneider, she decided.

“So, Miss ‘Fight For Change’...what are you going to do about it?”

“Do about it? What are you talking about? I can’t make Alex stop seeing him. I told him how I felt, but Alex had to know I was going to be upset and he's doing it anyway.”

“Okay, you’ve talked to your mom and your Abuelita about your feelings, about what your dad did,” he agreed, reminding her that her family talked to him even more than she did. “And you told Alex off...”

She nodded.

“Is there maybe somebody you should be talking to about this that you haven’t, yet?”

“Do you mean Papi? Because that’s all I’ve been trying to do for months. No answer. Like I don’t even exist for him anymore.”

“Elena. I’ve seen you tear apart total strangers for littering or packaging their food with plastic that doesn't biodegrade. I don’t know what you’ve been waiting all this time to tell your dad, but I’m sure you have a lot to say.”

There had been so many nights when she mapped it out in her head, the perfect words. Then there he was, and everything went blank. She swallowed hard, the tears threatening to come back. “Yeah.”

“You were blindsided when you found him with Alex, right? But he was there. He was right there.”

Schneider waited for the wheels to turn, watched as Elena’s face went from thoughtful to certain to fierce.

“He...he can’t ignore me if I’m right there in front of him. He has to hear me.”

“There you go. You got this.”

Curling both hands into fists, she gripped down hard on the hurt before relaxing her fingers. She let the pain settle deep in her stomach as fuel.

“I gotta go.” Elena grabbed hold of Schneider again, in a hug so quick and so emphatic that he let out a quiet oomph. “Thank you.”

She was flying down the stairs before he got out his you’re welcome.

Victor had no idea what was headed his way, a small but mighty hurricane that he completely deserved. Schneider was a little bummed he wouldn’t get to see it.

He knew he’d hear all about it later, though. That’s what family was for.

[impracticaldemon]

Dangerous Connections [late submission for Saichifest 2019]

by impracticaldemon a modern, non-canonesque, 4200-word vignette

Rating:  M / Lemon   Read also on FFN | AO3

Author's Note: I have no idea where this story came from. Unfortunately, it nagged at me until I wrote it, which delayed other writing. Part of the inspiration came from @nospringonions fanfic for Saichifest 2019 (although that fanfic feels brighter, and has a beginning, middle, and end).  This is one of my very few non-Shinsengumi-era stories. The setting is a modern Japan AU that has a slightly? darker feel to it than Hakuouki SSL. Partial inspiration for the feel—and Saito's motorbike—go to @kurokiorya

As a final note, the entire second half of the story is more or less about sex.

Dangerous Connections

"I found you a tutor, Hajime-kun!"

Saitō eyed his friend warily. That particular grin always made him nervous.

"Tanaka-sensei said that she would find somebody appropriate, Sōji. There's no need—"

"Tanaka-sensei has already approved my suggestion." Okita's smirk became even more pronounced. "She agreed that it made sense to get somebody who knew the club, and wouldn't mind working around your weird schedule. Besides, it turns out that Chizuru-chan was already on her list of candidates."

Saitō felt himself tense. "Yukimura? Sōji—that's—I don't think that's a good idea at all."

Okita laughed. "Worried you won't be able to concentrate? On the bright side, you won't want to embarrass yourself, right? I figure you'll be speaking and writing English like a pro in no time!" He punched Saitō lightly on the arm—lightly for Sōji, at least.

"There must be other—"

"Get a grip, Saitō! Your family said you had to pass your English competency exam, or quit the team." Okita's expression darkened. "And this year we're going to win the championship, so don't you dare let them force you to quit!"

"I don't intend to!" replied Saitō with rare heat. "You shouldn't have gotten involved in this."

"Oi, what's with you? I thought you'd be pleased. I'm pretty sure you've had a thing for Chizuru-chan for ages—and didn't you mention that your dad wanted you to find a suitable girlfriend? I mean, you're twenty now, and graduating uni in a couple of years, and—"

"Stay. Out. Of. This." Saitō turned on his heel and stalked off, shoulders rigid.

Okita was so surprised that he watched him go.

"Well that was weird—what the hell did you say to him?"

"Nothing he wanted to hear, apparently." It wasn't Heisuke's fault that Saitō was behaving like he had a poker up his butt, but Okita had to suppress an instinctive desire to lash out at the younger man. He didn't handle rejection well—he knew it, but that didn't make him any happier right now.

"Anything I can do to help?" Fortunately, Heisuke was reading the room for once, and didn't demand an immediate explanation. Okita grimaced inwardly. Heisuke was a good guy, and he'd matured a lot in the last couple of years—they all had, supposedly.

"Doubt it. Not unless you're in the mood to torture Hajime-kun for personal information?"

Heisuke stared at him, then waved his hands in an emphatic denial. "First of all, torture really isn't my thing. Second, I wasn't planning to die today."

"You saying I can't take Saitō?"

"MMMMFFFF." Heisuke pantomimed locking up his lips and throwing away the key. Then he ruined it by adding, "Who knows? Not me." He grinned at Okita. "I knows nuffin' guv'nah!"

"What the hell was that? As if your English isn't bad enough to begin with."

"Better'n yours and Saitō's, I hear."

Okita grimaced, then shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me, but Saitō's dad says he either passes the next time, or he's out of the kendo club—national championship or not. The guy's a hardass, too—if he says it, he means it. But we need that championship if we're going to get funding to go international." He scowled.

"Makes me glad I'm not the heir—or even runner-up heir—to some fancy corporation, for once. My dad just wants me to take his guilt money and lead my own life."

"Yeah, yeah. There are worse things, you know?"

"So I'm told." Heisuke bit back a snide rejoinder—Souji was always grouchy when it came to families. Besides, it reminded him what he'd come to say in the first place.

"I don't know if it's related, but I have some news for you. Bad news, and I wish Shinpat had found you first, to be honest. Assuming he didn't avoid you on purpose."

Okita gestured for him to continue, though he was still staring in the direction that Saitō had… gone.

"You know that pharmaceutical company that's been in the news so much recently?"

"No." Then Okita reconsidered. "Wait—yes. Hijikata was ranting about it yesterday, I think. Kondō-san kept having to calm him down—not that there's anything new in that."

"Well, turns out they were into some seriously illegal shit, and even had some kind of stolen army biotech they were working on."

"So?"

"It was owned by Chizuru-chan's dad. In fact, her brother was the manager, at least on paper."

That got Okita's full attention.

"Well, shit."

"Anyway, nobody knows if they were set up, or who leaked the info to the cops—or the press—and so far it's hard to say who in the family knew all the details."

"There is no way Chizuru-chan knew about it, or was involved," Okita snapped.

"Yeah, we know that. But for now, the family, and everyone close to the family, is a suspect. And it gets worse."

"How?" Okita was already trying to sort out the kind of impact this could have on the club. Chizuru was close friends with all of them, and she acted as a kind of book-keeper and general secretary.

"Chizuru's dad made a substantial donation to the club, back when Chizuru started university. That's kind of why we got stuck with her in the first place, remember—not that I minded."

Okita remembered. "Fuck. FUCK!"

"Right? A club like ours—any sports club that wants to compete at the national level and beyond—can't be associated with illegal drugs. And these ones involve army tech, so..."

"Why the hell didn't Hijikata explain this to me yesterday?!" demanded Okita.

Wisely, Heisuke didn't point out that Sōji probably hadn't been listening. Sometimes things were okay between those two, other times they weren't—as in, really weren't. At times like this, he envied Hajime-kun for not living with the rest of them.

Okita glared at Heisuke for not answering his question. "Fine. Where's Chizuru-chan?"

"We don't know."

"What?! How is that even possible? She lives with us, for crying out loud!"

Heisuke took a half-step back, mentally cursing Shinpachi for setting him up to be the bearer of ill tidings. Sōji tended to hit first, ask questions later—well, not so much now, but still. Normally, they sent Sano-san to do stuff like this, but Sano was out of town for the week.

"We think she's either been taken away by her dad, or kidnapped by those Kazama thugs." Heisuke had to lean in to whisper the words, and Okita took the opportunity to grab him by the shoulders and shake him.

"Then what the hell are we doing just talking about it?! Why are we here at school instead of out looking for her?"

"I'm not gonna talk if you keep doing that!"

"Fine. Screw English class, I'm out of here. And I'm really pissed at Hajime-kun for not telling me all this earlier—he must have known."

"Our job is to go to school. Keep up appearances."

"Thank you for that, Hijikata-mommy-san. Sure, I'll do that." Without another word, Okita spun away from Heisuke, and ran for the main entrance.

Heisuke hesitated, then flung up his hands with a groan and sprinted off after him. Nobody was going to be happy when Sōji encountered the ladies and gentlemen of the press. And it wasn't Heisuke's fault that they'd trailed him here after Hijikata-san had slammed the house door in their faces.

Saitō's bike was expensive, but not showy, and it was a lot less noisy than most. That being said, he hadn't taken quite as much care as usual when he'd taken off from school after running into Sōji. Fortunately, he couldn't sense anyone watching as he methodically stowed the bike, and hurried through the parking lot door of his non-descript apartment building. On the face of it, he was just another young guy who'd probably forgotten something he needed for work or school. He'd done a good job of being anonymous here for two years; there was no reason to mess that up now.

He'd originally hoped to throw people off the scent by showing up for class as usual, but he just wasn't calm enough to pull it off. No matter how hard he tried, he still lacked the detachment and control of his father and grandfather—as they often pointed out. And ugh. Sōji had meant it for the best, but Saitō had hoped to avoid anything that might link him to Chizuru except as a member of the club's championship kendo team. The Kazama had top notch intelligence gatherers.

He made himself take the elevator up to his floor—which wasn't the penthouse, since that was just too obvious for the scion of a wealthy corporate empire. At least he wasn't the heir, thank all the gods. He unlocked the door to his apartment, and then carefully locked and bolted it behind him once inside.

"Hajime-san?"

And there she was, waiting for him. His heart-beat picked up at the thought.

"Chizuru…" It was still a delight to use her unadorned first name, and to hear his own name on her lips. He knew he was blushing, but he couldn't seem to help it, or to suppress the inappropriate—very warm—images that caused at least part of the blush.

Without warning—except that he was trained to read an opponent's slightest movement—Chizuru threw her arms around him, and buried her head against his shoulder. He tried not to react to her sudden proximity, but his hormones had other ideas. She was obviously frightened, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to gently lift her face to his, and kiss her. Not that they hadn't kissed before, but it was still so new to him—to them both—that he was immediately swept up in it, and didn't notice the passage of time until he realized that he had her pressed tightly against the hallway wall, one hand in her hair, and the other stroking the soft skin of her back under her blouse.

When he tried to draw away, Chizuru clung to him, her lips nuzzling his neck. He could tell that she was embarrassed, but also determined to keep him close. If only he were better at rational thought when they were together like this! Then he could comfort her properly, while still being aware of his surroundings, and considering what to do next.

"Chizuru, we need to plan." She couldn't stay hidden with him indefinitely—though part of him wished she would—but the alternatives weren't clear. "I think it's going to get more difficult after today…" Not so much because of Sōji blatantly throwing them together, but because the press was out there now, and hungry for details. The Kazama family wouldn't miss the opportunity to seize Chizuru if they could find her, and he suspected that Kōdō was finally scared enough to accept the Yukimura-Kazama merger, and hand her over to them to seal the bargain.

Saito made another effort to put some distance between them, but thinking about Chizuru engaged to Kazama Chikage made him want to do anything other than let go. In fact, he wanted very much to forget about everything other than finding out how best to please his beloved—if still secret—girlfriend. His mouth dipped down to the tip of her closest ear, and he began to trace the outer edge with his tongue, which elicited an intoxicating, shivery kind of gasp from Chizuru. He felt his pelvic muscles contract in response, and blood rush down to harden him into full arousal. Without another thought, he pressed a hard kiss—almost a bite—into the side of Chizuru's neck, making sure that his teeth would leave marks.

"Hajime…" Chizuru's voice was a little rougher than usual, and her breathing had quickened. He tightened his hand in her hair, and forced her head up to look at him, so that he could admire the scarlet that now bloomed high on her cheeks, and the way her eyes seemed to glow as she warmed into passion. When he brought his mouth to hers, abandoning her ear and neck, and biting gently on her lower lip, she made another half-muffled sound of pleasure, but louder and more distinct this time. He found himself trapping her even more tightly between his body and the wall, and grinding himself against her, while his tongue parted her willing lips and began to explore her mouth, eventually so deeply that it felt like a flagrant expression of what he wanted to do with the rest of her body.

As if in response to that thought, he felt Chizuru's hands tug the tail of his shirt free of his jeans, so that she could caress his bare skin in the same way that he was touching hers. His father wouldn't be very impressed at how easily distracted he was, he knew, but something rebelled in him at the thought. His friends and colleagues pushed him to be more open; his father and grandfather demanded perfect stoicism. Only Chizuru let him be entirely himself—she didn't mind his silences, she trusted him to listen when she wanted to talk, and she never seemed troubled by his awkwardness. He was utterly in love with her.

Still kissing, they undressed each other, fumbling at buttons, and even occasionally snarling at layers that wouldn't cooperate with their need to be skin-to-skin. Saitō retained enough sanity to lift Chizuru into his arms and carry her to his small bedroom, which was surely a more private and appropriate place to communicate such desires. Not until he laid her down on his bed—hair loose, clothing wildly askew, love-bite darkening on her neck—did he fully process what they were doing, and freeze, appalled by how far he'd let things go. He immediately sat back, still straddling her hips, and forced his greedy hands away from her skin.

To his surprise, Chizuru smiled up at him, and reached out to run her own hand down across the muscles of his stomach to rest lightly on the tight bulge still constrained by his lower fly and boxer-briefs. The button to his jeans was already undone, although it had taken her some minutes to achieve this, earlier. He still wasn't sure whether the button had actually been difficult, or if she'd just been distracted by his lips on her skin, and on the thin material of her lacy bra. Her nipples had hardened intriguingly under the ministrations of his stroking, pinching fingers, and then tongue and teeth.

He stared down at her now, breathless and dry-mouthed with desire, blood pounding in his ears, but desperate not to injure her in any way. Her thumb rubbed gently, but attentively, at the head of his erection, and he flinched inwardly at the combination of the exciting, pleasurable sensation, and the vulnerable, loving, determined expression on her lovely face. It might feel wonderful, but it wasn't right—not when there was fear and sadness lurking behind her passion.

"Chizuru," he whispered, barely able to resist leaning forward into her touch, while forcing himself to keep his hands curled on his thighs, rather than caressing her breasts, or busy with the pale blue panties that lay visible below her loose, rumpled skirt.

"I want this, Hajime. You love me, you believe in me, and I want you to be the first, since I don't know what the future has in store for either of us."

"We'll stay together no matter what, I promise, if that's what you want. But don't—Chizuru, those are the wrong reasons—you must know that!" He hoped that his voice betrayed neither the effort it cost to be rational, nor his hurt at her lack of confidence. In him, in them, he wasn't sure which.

He read stubbornness—and true longing—in her eyes, and the set of her lips. She wasn't going to back down, not when she believed in what she was saying.

"Your father won't want an alliance with a disgraced family, we both know that. And the Kazama want me so that I can produce an heir to both families, Kazama and Yukimura, now that their victory is certain. A marriage, an heir—that will bring everyone into line, and keep our noble blood pure." The last word was low and bitter. "Are you going to subject your family, and your friends, and all their dreams, to the inevitable retaliation? They—the Kazama—can be brutal, you know."

"My family can look after itself," he told her forcefully, trying and failing to ignore her insistent caresses. He shifted a little, then caught her wrists, pushing her down into the bed. "Don't offer yourself to me on such terms. I'll refuse." He wasn't sure he could, but he'd do his best.

Chizuru stared at him, clearly frustrated in every way, but also, maybe, a little hopeful. Or was he imagining it, because he wanted her so much, and needed her to want him back out of love and passion, not despair—or as part of some ridiculous, fatalistic goodbye.

"Hajime? I don't want you to get hurt. I love you. That's the only reason I would ever go to them—"

"I know, but this—" He swallowed, unable to do what he should, and just get up, and get his mind back on prioritizing her safety, and—and so on. Why couldn't things be simple? Why did he always think too much?! He could practically feel Sōji's eyes mocking him for his indecision.

"I'm sorry," Chizuru whispered into the silence. "I was being selfish—to want this time with you. This is my fault—"

"Dammit—no!" He let go of her wrists and curved his hands around her cheeks to cradle her head. "Just… just don't go there." He bent down to kiss her fiercely on the lips, and was surprised to discover that his control was still pitifully weak. Desire reignited as he registered the heat of her skin against his bare chest, and felt her lips part beneath his. He heard her breath hitch—just as it had earlier—and then her arms tightened around him, pulling him fully against her, so that he barely had time to brace one forearm to avoid falling.

"I won't give up—"

"I won't let you go."

With little grace, but also no pointless self-consciousness, he freed them both from their remaining clothes, and gave himself over to kissing and teasing and caressing his beloved's body into heated, extravagant arousal. Inexperience didn't mean lack of imagination, and he'd imagined making love to her so many times before, often to his own chagrin. He kissed and tasted and left marks on her skin, and suckled her breasts, and ran strong, demanding hands along her sides and over her hips and belly and around her smooth backside. And he thanked her, in fervent, heartfelt whispers, for letting him hear her cries of passion, and for sharing her wonderful, sweet body with him.

Her scent was intoxicating—he hadn't realized how much it would affect him. When his explorations finally reached the damp, sensitive folds of skin at her centre, and his fingers started to learn the contours of her most private places, her soft cries became whimpers, and he saw her biting her lower lip so hard that he thought it might bleed.

"Chizuru…" He almost stilled his hand, worried for the first time that he'd somehow hurt her, in his ignorance, but when his fingers slowed, and he lifted his lips from the hard nub of one breast, her expression plainly begged him not to stop, and he felt her hips jerk so as to press her mound more firmly against his hand. Only a little while later, he found himself sliding his fingers within her, both elated and a little shocked by how much he wanted to do such things. His body was beginning to quiver with need and anticipation of release, and he knew that she could feel his hard length pressed tightly against her thigh, and perhaps even the slightly sticky fluid that had started to pool on her skin. Without conscious thought, he pressed his fingers deeper within her, and felt inner muscles tremble and contract against them. Abruptly, he wasn't sure how he was going to manage to hold back any longer. He pulled away from her uncertainly, aware that he'd become completely focussed on sensation.

"Hajime…" She said his name like a plea, and lust jolted through him.

"Chizuru, I… I…" He swallowed, so deep in desire that he couldn't form a proper question. When she reached out and pulled his mouth down to hers, kissing him passionately, his whole body twitched involuntarily, and he clung to her, feeling his climax starting to build out of control. He could only hope—though he was moderately optimistic—that he'd made his lover feel the same way.

He was incredibly grateful when Chizuru shifted her hips, and awkwardly, but without hesitation, helped guide him to her entrance. He took that as permission to finally surrender his thread-bare self-command and join with her, and a soft groan escaped his lips as he thrust into her, his hands moving to grip her hips as he rocked hard against her once, and then withdrew a short space before burying himself deep into her once more, savouring the way her tight, slick walls clenched and pulsed around his shaft. She was very wet, and she smelled of arousal and sex, and a strong wave of possessiveness swept over him along with the desperate yearning of near-orgasm. Unable to stop, he thrust into her again and again, listening to her moan, and feeling her writhe beneath him. Somewhere in the haze of adrenaline and pleasure, he promised himself to do more for her next time, since this time he seemed to lack the ability to do much more than ride a dizzying wave of physical sensation until he was coming hard and fast inside her, his seed spilling hot within her welcoming body.

They lay together for some time afterwards, without speaking, their bodies still joined, their skin sticky with sweat and still sensitive to the other's touch. Saitō was conscious that he had left numerous bruises and marks on Chizuru—some light, some deep—and he was embarrassed that he didn't fully recollect being so rough. It had also occurred to him, too late, that he probably hadn't been careful enough or gentle enough, given that it was her first time. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be able to think clearly enough to express his concern just yet. He suspected he was smiling, and was a little worried that he looked smug.

Chizuru, on the other hand, looked… happy. More than happy. For some reason that Saitō couldn't fathom, she was gazing lovingly up at him through dreamy, half-closed eyes, and showed no inclination to have him move from where he lay. The only problem was that he felt a distinct inclination to make love to her again, but wasn't sure whether that would be either appropriate, or welcome. He'd never been entirely sure what women really thought about sex, having never had the opportunity—or courage—to ask. But… she really did look happy. And beautiful. Gorgeous, even. Although that didn't necessarily reflect how she felt.

"Thank you," he said, at last. It didn't begin to convey how he felt, but it was a start.

"Oh…" Chizuru looked startled, but then relaxed again and grinned at him. "You're welcome—I mean, thank you, too."

There was a lot going on, back in the real world. And somebody was going to track them down, probably either Sōji, or Hijikata-san, and probably sooner rather than later. Saitō tightened his arms around Chizuru.

"Remember, you promised."

"I know. No giving myself up just to protect everyone I care about—and especially you—from the anger of the most powerful family in the country."

He blinked. "Somehow you make it sound like I'm being selfish." Then, before it could even begin to turn into another disagreement, he added. "But even if I am—yes, that is correct. Also, to quote something either Sano-san, or Shinpachi, said one time: have a little faith, okay?"

Chizuru looked up at him with an unusually roguish smile.

"I have faith in your endurance…"

Saitō felt his eyes widen in surprise, and then Chizuru suddenly looked away, red suffusing her cheeks. Gently, he turned her face back toward his, and kissed her forehead.

"I'm sorry if I was too rough—I really am. I don't know what was wrong with me. But I'd be very happy to let you test my endurance, if you want to."

And if Sōji, Hijikata-san, or anyone else needed him in the next hour or two, then that was just too bad. Chizuru's well-being, and her good opinion of him, were far more important than a national championship, a potential rift with his father, or the threats of a family with distinctly dangerous business practices.

[END]

A/Note:  I realized part-way through editing that the background for this Saito is influenced by that of the Saito from an entirely different otome game (DTL)

Tags: @shell-senji @hidetheremote @eliz1369 @nalufever @annedey @nospringonions @soujthings @do-it-for-keef @sabinasanfanfic @fury-ous @canadiangaap @aetherium-weaver @hakuyamazakisensei @petri808

To those who read Teachings of Demons:  the new chapter is underway and should be finished this weekend.  Still dealing with a number of distractions, but hoping for solid writing time in March.

~ Imp

[meowmerson]

Tomione Drunk Dialing???

Getting drunk was never a good idea for Hermione Granger. 

It was a really phenomenally bad idea, but her friends were dirty rotten enablers, so.

They enabled. 

“I mean–” She had to stop talking in the middle of her rant because her wine glass sloshed over the rim of her cup. She stared despondently at the splash of red wine on the ground for a long moment before Ginny leaned over and topped up her glass and she continued, “Who the fuck does he think he is? My–my dad? He’s not my dad.”

“What did he say?” Ginny asked.

“What?” 

“What did he say to you?” Harry cut in. “You never said you just started ranting about his perfect teeth.”

“Ugh,” Hermione groaned emphatically, “He’s never even had braces. I know that because he grew up in an orphanage, so he couldn’t have–”

“Afforded them, yes.” Ron said from where he was lying face down on the loveseat, “You told us already!”

“Oh come on Ron,” Ginny laughed, “Don’t pretend this isn’t hilarious.”

“I like her better sober.” He grumbled into the couch cushions. “Less shrill.”

“Shrill?!” Hermione echoed, shrilly. 

“What did he say?” Harry repeated.

Hermione took a long drink from her wine glass before answering, but even then she didn’t answer the question. “He doesn’t even–I don’t even know why he was there, he’s always fucking right there–”

“Here we go.” Ron muttered. Luna, sitting on the floor in front of him, patted his shoulder reassuringly but otherwise listened closely to Hermione’s ramblings. 

“Like–” She took another gulp of her wine, “I get it, you think you’re smarter and better and prettier and smarter than me–but that doesn’t–like–give you the right to act like it.” She dropped her wine glass. “All the bloody time!”

“What did he say?” Ginny asked again, grabbing another glass.

“I don’t think she’s going to tell us,” Luna interjected, “She needs to get her anger out first.”

“And where does he get off,” She seethed, “Commenting on my dating life. It has nothing to do with him. I don’t comment on his…activities. Does he even date?” 

The door opened in the middle of her rant, distracting her long enough to hold her glass still so Ginny could sneak in another top up as Draco Malfoy walked in with a six-pack of beer. 

“Oh bollocks,” He said as soon as he laid eyes on Hermione. “I’m leaving.”

“No you’re not!” Harry said, waving him over excitedly, “Come watch the show!”

“Did you bring Pansy?” Ron asked lifting his head for the first time in about thirty minutes.

“No.” Draco snapped, “Leave Pansy the fuck alone.”

“Leave me the fuck alone.” Ron snapped back childishly.

“I plan to.” Draco said resolutely, flopping onto the couch beside Harry as Luna shuffled over on the floor to lean against his legs. “Who is it this time?” He asked, nodding in Hermione’s direction.

“Same.” Ginny said, watching as Hermione stared bewildered at her full wine glass. 

“Again?” Draco whined, but before he could get in a good complaint, Hermione was off again.

“What a waste of good looks.” Hermione started, “I mean–you’d think he would be humble because of everything he went through, but instead he’s a total fucking arse–”

“Oo-hoo!” Draco crowed, “Granger uses language, she must really be smashed.” 

“–all the time. And he’s creepy. And obsessed with me. And he’s everywhere like–I was just on a fucking date and he has to show up and start rubbing it in my face how smart he is and how he did better than me on that exam which he only did because Snape hates me and then he’s all, ‘Oh Hermione–’”

“Here we go,” Harry said, nudging Draco in the arm, “This must be what set her off,”

“‘hope you have a lovely date.’ I mean–what the fuck?”

There was an extended silence as Hermione downed what was left in her glass and everyone stared in shocked silence.

“You’re fucking joking.” Ron grumbled into the couch.

“You don’t understand–it was the tone.” She snapped, “You don’t know him like I do–it was–”

“Why can’t you tell him all of this instead of complaining to us?” Malfoy asked. 

Hermione dropped her wine glass again. “Yes.” She said. “Malfoy–” She leaned over to clasp his knee, completely unaware of Malfoy’s appalled expression as she did so. “You are so wise. I approve of yours and Harry’s relationship now.”

“Whoa, okay, uh–” 

“We absolutely are not–”

But Hermione wasn’t listening, instead she was digging through her bag to find her phone.

“Should we stop her?” Luna asked as Hermione angrily brandished her phone and began dialing a number from memory.

“I’m not about to get punched in the face.” Ron grumbled.

“This is hilarious, nobody stop her,” Ginny added excitedly. Hermione slammed the door to the bathroom shut before they hear her start any sort of conversation, and Ginny quickly jumped up and tip-toed to the door to press her ear against it. When no one else moved she impatiently waved them all over. Luna came and sat beside Ginny on the ground to press her ear against the door, followed quickly by Draco and Harry who stood above them and pressed their ears against the door, too.

Ron just groaned from his spot on the loveseat and didn’t move. 

“–Oh, I’m sorry Mr. I’m-so-smart-and-so-handsome-I-could-take-over-the-world-and-enact-mass-genocide-and-the-public-would-thank-me, I didn’t mean to insult your delicate ego–”

Ginny clasped her hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. 

“–What do you mean where am I? I’m at home.”

“We should be ready to wrestle the phone off of her if she says something embarrassing,” Harry whispered, “So she doesn’t murder us in the morning–”

Draco shushed him.

“Oh–Oh–and where am I supposed to get drunk then? Are you going to dictate to me where I can get drunk now?”

“How is she so articulate, she’s gone through like four bottles of wine.” Ginny muttered.

“Because you kept pouring her more,” Harry pointed out.

“All of you shut up,” Draco hissed.

“You know what–fuck you Tom Riddle. Fuck your stupid perfect hair, and your sanctimonious bullshit, and your holier-than-thou stupid fucking tone of voice, and especially fuck your ridiculous fuck-me voice, you foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach.”

“Jesus Christ.” Ginny murmured, but before anyone could comment further the door sprang open and Ginny wound up sprawled out on the floor from leaning on the door. Luna managed to catch herself, and Draco and Harry both leaped back from the door while Hermione stepped over Ginny and beelined to the alcohol.

“What did he say?” Ginny asked. 

“You sure were sending some mixed signals there, Granger,” Draco commented.

“Shut up you ferret.” She snapped, then continued it a deep voice. Everyone knew who she was attempting to imitate, even if it sounded nothing like him. “Oh, Hermione, are you drinking alone? I hope your date wasn’t that disappointing. Maybe I should come over to be sure you don’t kill yourself.”

“Is Tom coming over?” Luna asked pleasantly.

“Keep that douchebag away from this sacred space!” Ron called from the couch. Hermione flailed her arms in his direction as if to say ‘there you go.’

“Thank you Ron!” She said, “For once in your life, you say something that isn’t horribly ignorant.”

“Thanks, you drunk bitch–”

“He doesn’t know where she lives anyway, right?” Harry said, but Hermione ignored him.

“If you’ll excuse me,” She picked up a bottle of wine, “I’m going to go drown myself in my bedroom, goodnight.”

They waited until she shut herself in her room before Ginny said, “She just grabbed the empty bottle of wine.”

“Thank god,” Harry said, “She does not need to drink any more.”

They centered around the table again, instead of round the bathroom door. Hermione remained in her bedroom where she would most likely remain the rest of the night while they carried on in her living room. It usually happened like this when she got angry-drunk, except usually she would just get aggressively drunk and slink off to her room without drunk dialing the bane of her existence. 

At this point, after Hermione went to her room to fall into a dead sleep until she woke up in the morning with a horrible, rage-filed hangover, they would talk until one by one they crashed on the couch or the love seat or the floor, in Luna’s case.

In fact, Ron was already asleep when there came a knock at the door. 

Ginny groaned at the interruption, and Harry lazily pushed Draco toward the door to answer it. 

Draco unlocked and opened the door, blinked twice, then slammed the door shut.

“Tom fucking Riddle is at the door.” He hissed, taking two steps away from the door as if there was a wild animal there.

“What?” Ginny wrinkled her nose.

“Tell him to leave?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Draco snapped, “You tell him that!”

“No, I’m fine where I am, thank you.”

The door clicked open, and Tom walked in.

“Did you not lock the fucking door?” Harry exclaimed, his voice rising an octave.

Tom quietly shut the door behind him, and took a step forward before Draco stepped in front of him. “Hey, you can’t just–” Tom reached out and twisted his hand in Draco’s shirt, turning and pinning him against the door. Harry let out a worried shout along with Ginny, and Ron groaned from where he was trying to sleep on the couch. 

“Where is Hermione?” Tom asked calmly, amicably, as if he wasn’t assaulting Malfoy. 

“Uh–in her room, at the end of the hall.” Draco answered immediately without hesitation.

“Draco Malfoy!”

Tom ignored them, and the group–minus Ron, who was still sleeping–watched as Tom went straight to the kitchen. First he opened the cabinet where the glasses were and retrieved one to fill it with water at the sink. Then he moved ot the medicine cabinet and retrieved the aspirin bottle. Draco turned to the group and mouthed the words what the fuck, but no one did anything as Tom moved down the hall to Hermione’s room.

“Oh my god–” Draco started at the same time Harry hissed, “Has he been here before?”

Ginny pointed an accusing finger in Draco’s direction, “You just let him go to Hermione’s room when she’s blind fucking drunk!”

“I didn’t see you doing anything about it!” Malfoy argued.

“He just fucking walked in!” Harry wheezed, “And used the kitchen. What the hell–”

“Shut up,” Ron moaned, pressing his face deeper into the couch cushions. 

As the group was arguing, Luna slowly stood and moved down the hall to Hermione’s room. her door was still cracked open, so it was easy to push it open just a bit to see what was happening in her room. 

Hermione was curled up in her blankets on her bed, but she was awake, sleepily glowering at Tom who was crouched beside her bed. He had placed the water and the aspirin on her bedside table, and now he had his hand resting on the side of her head over her hair, his thumb smoothing along her hairline.

“I didn’t invite you here,” Hermione mumbled, “I’m angry with you.”

“I know.” He said, and Luna didn’t know that Tom Riddle had the capacity for gentleness in his tone until that moment. 

“It wasn’t even a fucking date,” She said quietly. He hummed in response, and after a pause, she added, “I wish I hated you more.”

“No you don’t.” He said, moving his hand to brush her hair back over her shoulder. 

“My friends will find it suspicious that you know where the aspirin is.” Hermione said. 

“Your friends are idiots, so I doubt it.”

“Don’t be an ass.” She told him, but the tone of her voice suggested she was already falling asleep. Tom leaned forward to press a kiss against her bare shoulder, and after a quiet moment–Luna assumed it was after he decided Hermione was alright–he stood.

He turned and saw Luna at the door. Still a little drunk, Luna gave him a thumbs up. He narrowed his eyes and glared at her for a long moment until Luna finally shrugged and moved away from the doorway.

The group was still arguing when she returned.

“I am not going over there, you go over there.” Draco said.

“You’re the one who let him in!” Harry argued.

“Someone go up there and make sure he’s not like taking advantage of her or something!” Ginny exclaimed, but stopped and deflated when she saw Luna, “Oh, Luna went.”

“What?” Draco sneered, turning around from where he was sitting to look at Luna. “Oh–is she good?”

“Yes.” Luna said shortly. 

“What was he doing?” Ginny prodded, “How did he know where the aspirin was?”

“Was he trying to kill her or something–”

“For the last time Harry,” Draco snapped, “He grabbed the aspirin, why would he grab the aspirin if he was planning on killing her.”

“He was fine.” Luna answered vaguely.

The sound of Tom’s footsteps caused the room to go silent. The dark haired man only spared a moment to glare in their direction before continuing toward the door.

“Goodnight, Tom,” Luna called after him. He sent another glower in her direction, then continued out the door and shut it gently behind him.

There was a long moment of silence. 

“You know what?” Draco finally broke the silence, “I don’t fucking care.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Whatever that was,” He waved in the general direction of the kitchen, “I don’t want to know. If Hermione is boning Riddle I do not want to think about it–”

“Ugh Gross–”

“Malfoy what the fuck–”

“I’m trying to sleep, Jesus christ, shut the fuck up–”

[annahall123supergirl]

This is my honest review

If you guys like the series you don’t have to read this but I am not going to say I like something when I don’t.

I give this series ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Brief non spoiler summary

It was little to be desired. Most of the bad guys were predictable like “ oh my was that was killer such a shocker (not)” the minor characters carried the series which made reading the books tolerable.

Characters

Audrey Rose Wadsworth

She is by the worst heroine I have come across in a YA historic novel. I am sorry to those who like but I just can’t stand her. First off her stupidity there is a killer going about East London killing whores and what does she do? She goes to East dressed up like a whore! She didn’t even bring a proper weapon. Also her Hypocrisy is just rich no pun intended she hates how the rich treat the poor but thinks helping out in orphanages and being a nurse is beneath. Also, she made the servants, (who by the way actually have to earn money to eat and live under a roof) consistently be in the position of reporting to their employer that they lost his daughter. Also, she even didn’t care about the whores existence until they started showing up dead. Also, her feminism. Literally every word was a preach show about how men were the worst and women were awesome and how could the world be so cruel. I do believe men and woman are equal but Audrey present the type of feminist that doesn’t believe in equality but, believing woman are somehow superior to men. At some point I was just we get Audrey your a feminist now can we please get back to the story. Jumping to conclusion. Audrey is the type of person to jump to conclusions I mean she spent the book thinking that her father was Jack the Ripper just because 1. He doesn’t let her recklessly go off on her, or do whatever she wants. 2. Has addiction to Opium which if she would knew about the effects would not leave someone to black out and kill people.

https://adf.org.au/drug-facts/opium/

Also with Blackburn he was doing his job not trying to trick into you courting you. Honestly I felt the by the end of book one Blackburn dodged a huge bullet. In the second book, she a little more tolerable but, then again she kept getting mad at Thomas who was just trying to help. Also, I hated the fly boy attitude they had, okay so as long as they figure out who killer was it was okay disregard all the rules put in place to protect the school reputation and it’s students? Also they way the treated the townspeople and their beliefs were super disrespectful. Just because your scientist does not give one the right to walk over someone disbelief.

Also, she missed tons of clues

Oh the mighty feminist once again missed the clues that were right in front and her bias feeling toward to accuse him of murder.

She had no character development whatsoever and btw Audrey the reason why no one wants to talk to you or give you the time of Day is one, they other things to worry about and 2, why would the listen to someone who is rude and obnoxious.

Thomas Cresswell

In the beginning I loved Thomas Cresswell he was literally a Sherlock pulling information together and figuring out the crime he was a great character. He had depth his only flaw was his arrogance and his inability to emphatic. Unfortunately, his character development in my opinion went in the completely other direction his arrogance got worse and not mention his deduction skills disappear and his presence became nothing more than a yes man to Audrey. By the end of the series he was so whipped always saying what she wanted to hear in fact, everything out became radical leftist propaganda.

And was willing to be with someone who constantly told him he had to change in order to be with her. And in the third book he was lied to and literally being kept in the dark. Quite hypocritical when he was reprimanded for doing just the same in the second book. But, when she says, jump she jumps when says sit he sits. Thomas lost what made him unique and if Audrey was willing to run off to the circus just after you basically proposed then I think that a clear she is not worth your time.

They both all looked down on anyone who shared a different opinion I thought they were suppose to be the type of couple that listen to other views instead of just calling it nonsense because you have a different view.

Metisphisto

His character was literally pointless like. The author needed a love triangle so she created him to like the unlikable Main character.

Uncle

What was his purpose really ?

Father

He should have stood his ground more especially when it came to his daughter there is no reason she should talk to him like that. Like Audrey expects her father to trust her when she constantly disobeys and lies to him. I felt for him really

Nathaniel

I expected. Don’t really care about him

Liza

I loved Liza but she should have apologized to her Mother for disappearance. That was a incredibly dangerous and immature thing to do no matter what the reason or the time period.

Aunt Amelia

I have to give credit where credit due she had to deal with practically raising her niece and daughter who both constantly made fun of her and her views. But of course she values religion a family and that’s bad.

Daciana

Was cool but she was basically a female Thomas.

Ileana

Was probably my favorite character.

Romance

It was cringe central with Thomas and Audrey every cliche in the book. And it was clear that Audrey wore the pants because everything she said goes and when Thomas stood up to her he was shot down and reprimanded for being sexist.

Daciana and Ileana was by my favorite couple in this series.

The plot

1. Audrey complaining about something or explaining how she was superior to everyone in the room. And explains how horrid it was that the world didn’t revolve around her.

2. A murder happens

3. Audrey vs. sexism / feminist rant

4. Romance

5. Romance

6. Feminist rant against the patriarchy

7. Another murder feminist rant

8. Murder again, because I been too busy complaining about sexism let’s start pointing fingers

9. Murder happen

10. The killer is discovered ( by this point we know who it is already)

11. Bad guy is defeated yay

12. Romance time

13. The end

This is literally all three books.

The setting

I liked how the author wrote the setting it felt like in 19th century London , inside the killers lair, in a castle in Romania, on a cruise liner of death on the way to America. The setting and the was she described things Is the series saving grace. Which is why I give the story three stars.

[webcricket]

Nudge Theory

Characters: CastielXReader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 5323 (Act V)

A/N: The [extended] conclusion to a five-act miniseries. The reader and Castiel must work together to solve the curious case of the missing Winchesters. Fluff, smut, and a plot for kicks (I’ve been informed it got kinda angsty – so, uh, yay, something for everyone?!). All mysteries and roads converge in Clifton Springs, NY – whither will they lead from there? Here’s a hint about the roads – there is a 100% probability they all lead to a mountain of fluff.

Completed Series Masterlist:

webcricket.tumblr.com/post/162181272535/nudge-theory-masterlist

Nudge [verb] –

·       “Coax or gently encourage someone to do something.”

Act V

“Y/N?”

The familiar rumbling whisper thundered through your pounding head with the boom of a freight train. You groaned in response.

“They’ve left for the moment,” the whispered onslaught continued, “there was a heated argument. Mrs. Kinlay did not want to miss bingo night at the senior center despite Mr. Kinlay’s wounds. Evidently, a Mrs. Reynolds recently returned from an extended cruise which was in reality a cover story for obtaining plastic surgery and the so-called botch job isn’t to be missed.”

You groaned again.

“Are you hurt?”

More discombobulated yet distinctly incensed syllables somersaulted from your tongue. You meant to say: “Bingo? Seriously? Well at least something about those impostors stinks of being geriatric.”

Cas took the irate tone of your incoherent groans as confirmation you were unharmed save for the diminishing effects of the cataleptic drug in your system, “They intend to perform some sort of ritual. We appear to be central components. Fortunately, it seems important to them that we remain largely unharmed.”

Functional alertness struck you all at once. You jerked against the restraints binding you to a chair, the commotion agitating and sloshing tepid water from the basin where your bare feet were submerged. The room was dim and windowless; the walls of concrete block with enormous red, blue, and yellow pipes towering around you. The ceaseless drone of a generator – no, a gargantuan water pump – deafeningly hummed. The raucous din roaring in your ears wasn’t a freight train, and the angel hadn’t been whispering at all – he was shouting.

“No point in struggling. I’ve already tried,” Cas said matter-of-factly, “the ties are bound by spell work.” His warm fingers squirmed to cover your hands to the extent his ropes allowed, offering what little consolation he could while being bound together back to back. You couldn’t see it, but his feet also soaked in a basin of water.

You let your head loll to rest in the cushion of his dark hair, your voice cracking dryly, “Cas, what the hell happened back there?”

“You mean, how was I overpowered by a 90-year-old woman?” he muttered wryly, angling his neck to bring his lips nearer your ears to avoid yelling so loud.

“I wasn’t going to phrase it quite as callously, but yeah,” you wondered how the fighting prowess of an angel of the Lord faired so miserably in hand-to-hand combat against a senior citizen.

“I wasn’t bested until she threatened me with ending your life,” he explained, “I heard your distressed prayer for help and had no choice but to cooperate.”

You pictured the stoic square set of his jaw and the sincerity glistening in his blue eyes as he recounted the story. He said he had no choice, but that wasn’t true. He could’ve kept on fighting, evaded capture, held out until the Winchesters arrived – instead, he chose to save you. Regardless of the situation, you’d never been on the receiving end of a more romantic gesture. Forget flowers, chocolate, and whispered sweet nothings, you’d take self-sacrifice over that kind of clichéd hokum any day. The realization that you needed him to know how you felt before it was too late again overwhelmed your thoughts. I love you, you tried the declaration first in your mind – no superfluities, no chance of confusing him with vague allusions. No more running from love – whether because you were presently forcibly chained in place to the owner of your heart, or not.

“Also, as I’m sure you can agree, the element of surprise was skillfully effected here,” Cas added, “I may need to reconsider my preconceived notions regarding the elderly.”

“Cas?”

He kept on rambling, tone distinctly apologetic, as if the entire debacle were somehow his fault, “And she possessed a strange command over my vessel…”

“Castiel?”

“…one which inhibited any of my abilities beyond the woefully inadequate human strength limited to me in this form.”

“Cas!”

“The upside being that they don’t seem to know I’m an-”

“Angel, I love you.”

He hushed with such swiftness and stillness you would have thought yourself abandoned if not for his fingers still pressed soothingly over your trembling ones.

You held your breath, certain your heart was thumping louder than the pump and about to burst forth from your ribcage.

He remained motionless and unbearably silent.

Tears verging on the corners of your eyes, you defaulted to plucky defensive sass, “That element of surprise is a real bitch, eh?”

He found his tongue, stammering, “Y/N, I-I don’t-”

“Cas just forget it, okay?” you choked, cutting him off, not wanting to know how his sentence finished. The options were endless, and you couldn’t currently fathom any in your favor.

Waylaid by your confession of love, he sat there, jaw agape, cursing himself for his ineptitude once again at navigating the dicey sea of human emotion. He knew he profoundly failed you in his delayed and fumbling response – the truth was he didn’t know what to say because he didn’t exactly understand what he was feeling, and this truth was better left unuttered.

You began an internal tirade: You idiot! It was just sex and you went and fell in love. He doesn’t love you. How could he? He’s a freaking angel. You barely even know each other. A few days working a case together and you lose your damn mind. What the hell were you thinking? With a shaky sigh, you wrangled your spiraling emotions, concentrating your focus on basic survival – one crisis at a time, and your imminent peril merited top priority. You steeled your nerves to speak, “What are these things parading around as old fogies anyway?”

“Benefactors, my dear,” a meek female voice answered.

Cas’ thoroughly distracted angelic ears had failed to detect the soft scuffle of slippers announcing the return of your captors.

“Look at this mess you’ve made,” Marge bent to fret over the spilled water around your basin.

“Messes are my specialty,” you snapped, referring not to the water, but life in general right now.

The old woman straightened her back creakingly, “Al, be a dear and fetch more water.”

Unhearing, Mr. Kinlay fidgeted with the white linen bandaging his hand.

“Hurry up, you impotent old fool!” Marge commanded.

Al twitched in his wrinkled skin suit, gimping figure scurrying out of sight.

Marge smiled, sweetly innocent. “Now where were we? Ah, of course! These hunters,” her eyes twinkled knowingly, “yes I know exactly what you are, my dears.” She went on, “These hunters think they deserve an explanation.”

“These hunters are going to end you!” you spat.

“Feisty young thing, isn’t she? Yes, you’ll do nicely,” her smile stretched haughtily.

You nagged, pilfering time to come up with a plan of escape, “What’s with the bondage-themed spa experience anyway? Here I would have thought cold tea and stale cookies were more bogus grannie speed. You know, just between us girls, it’s kind of turning me on. I really hope there’s a sadistic hot stone massage lined up for later.”

“And this one is heavenly, isn’t he?” unruffled, she ignored your unashamed heckling as her crinkled fingers admiringly stroked Cas’ prickly cheek, dipping to fuss with and straighten the knot of his tie.

“You have no idea,” Cas retorted calmly, breaking his silence. He gave your hands an emphatic squeeze as he spoke.

You suddenly understood the meaning of the bizarre wink at the motel, and what he had attempted to relay to you before you abruptly dropped the L-bomb: The upside being that they don’t seem to know I’m an…angel. They have no idea he’s an angel! You weren’t clear how this helped matters, but you were damn sure it didn’t hurt to have a surprise of your own in store for these geezers.

Al reappeared with a silver pitcher to re-fill your basin.

“So confident too, my Al could do with a bit of that confidence,” she shook her head wearily, “isn’t that right, Al dear? Al!”

The old man nodded agreeably even though he hadn’t heard any of her comments over the noisy water pump.

“It’s nearly time!” Marge mimed pointing to a watch, “Get the chest.”

Al wandered arthritically off into the maze of pipes.

Marge continued her speech, “As I was saying. A hunter came here years ago…”

“Thirteen years ago, right?” you rudely interjected, mimicking her cloyingly sweet smile. “Yeah, good friend of mine,” you lied, never having actually met John Winchester.

The old woman snarled, spiteful foam forming at the crinkled corners of her mouth, “That hunter killed my sister. After everything we’ve done for this town and we ask so little in return – merely to be loved. Calliphaea did not deserve the violent death dealt to her at a hunter’s hands.”

“Uh huh, can you fast forward to the part where you tell us what exactly you are?” you griped – at this rate Al would return and derail her rant. You briefly wondered why John didn’t mention any of these crucial details in his journal considering he’d apparently killed one of whatever these creatures were.

Marge sneered, “Humans call us many names – I am Iasis, daughter in the sisterhood of the Ionides. We are water nymphs, naiads, the undine. For time immemorial we have healed the people drawn to our springs. Once the sanatorium here was renowned in the far corners of the world. People flocked great distances to bathe in the healing waters.”

“We followed a historical trail of death, not miracles, to find you,” Cas astutely pointed out.

“Necessary sacrifices,” she asserted. “Did you ever stop to think about why a town as tiny as Clifton Springs needs senior housing? It’s because of us. The trappings of old age, not disease, is the nemesis of these people. A tragedy once a generation is simply fodder for these crones to reminisce about in the dull hours of their long lives. Once my sisters and I were worshipped, revered, adored. When the love of humans trickled and dried,” she gestured feebly around the stark mechanics of the room, “when this abomination was built to harness our spring, our life-sustaining essence, we improvised.”

“You murdered!” you accused.

“We adapted!” she countered.

Al materialized with an oblong bundle wrapped in silk.

Iasis gazed wistfully upon him, “When I met my Al, I again knew what it was to be loved.” She moved closer to you, shriveled grisly lips brushing over your ear in a low croaking whisper, “I see the way this man Castiel looks at you with true devotion in his eyes – wouldn’t you do anything to bask in his love forever?” She backed off, false teeth clicking, “I’m giving you forever dear, doesn’t that sound nice?”

You were too preoccupied straining to recall the scanty lore on nymphs retained in your memory to pay her much heed. Elemental creatures, you remembered being bored witless reading about them in an obscure musty text once, at Bobby Singer’s house of all places. God, that was ages ago! You met Dean for the first time that same trip. He was a barely contained mess of edgy nerves, vibrant green eyes, and self-assured posturing futilely searching for his missing father then. You fatefully exchanged numbers out front beside a wrecked Mustang, just in case you ran into a hunter of John’s description or came across any leads in your travels. Dean barreled in and out of that salvage yard, en route to Stanford to meet up with Sam, so fast he spared only a fleeting wisp of breath to comment on your great ass as he departed. You nearly tossed his contact info, thinking he was just like every other propositioning chauvinistic pig of a hunter you crossed paths with, but Bobby swore up and down Dean was a good kid, and an even better hunter – that stress had a funny way of subjugating his manners. The fond image of the curmudgeonly hunter brought the recollection of the text flooding forward: Supposed extinct since the early 19th century, reclusive healers, elementals grounded in fresh water sources especially potent, propensity for cruelty if provoked, quartz crystal consecrated by the four elements impaled through the heart will snuff them. You didn’t suppose you’d be lucky enough for Cas to have one of those handy in those deep trench pockets of his.

“I asked you a question!” Iasis slapped you smartly across the cheek.

“Leave her alo-”

She strangled Cas’ objection with a tic of her hand, “Young man, in my domain I dictate the orders. Are you aware the human body is composed almost entirely of the fluid element of water?” She freed her invisible hold on his throat.

Cas narrowed his eyes contemptuously, “Yes, I am aware of that fact.”

“Then you’d do well to remember it,” she cautioned, “for you flimsy little humans, water is life.” She snapped her fingers, “And death.”

The air in your lungs turned boggy. A hiccup-like spasm seized your diaphragm and you began to cough, convulsing and sputtering endless rivulets of cool clear water out of your lips and nose.

Helpless to do anything save beg for your life, Cas twined his fingers with yours, “I’ll remember. Please…I’ll do whatever you want. Please…please don’t hurt her.”

Satisfied with the effect of her demonstration, Iasis smirked and jerked her knobby fingers.

Spasmodically gasping, your lungs cleared. They painfully seared as you sucked to inflate them again with air.

The nymph turned her back on you, gently unwrapping the folded layers of silk surrounding the oaken box held aloft in Al’s upturned arms. Her voice tinged with distain, “Unfortunately, in binding my immortal essence to Al’s soul, I became one of you. Human. And these decrepit vessels can only be sustained for so long before they require replacement.” She withdrew two large glassy tapered quartz crystals from the box, “Our love must endure.”

“Then you intend to take us as new vessels?” Cas’ brow furrowed askance.

You stared achingly at the crystals – you’d bet your life they were conveniently consecrated by the four elements to perform this particular ritual. Cas, if you can hear me, you prayed, we need to stab her in the heart with one of those crystals.

Cas heard you, squeezing your hand tight in confirmation.

“It’s beautifully poetic, don’t you think?” Iasis hobbled over to immerse a crystal in the basin of water at Cas’ feet, “We’ve always chosen young lovers for our new hosts. No one bats an eye when an old married couple knocks off together, especially one as inseparable and devoted to each other as we are. Think of it this way, in Al and I, your love will bloom evergreen.”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds so…yeah, it still sounds completely insane,” you rolled your eyes, “And vaguely like the lyrics of a creepy alt-Ed Sheeran song.”

“Al, dear, it’s time,” Iasis announced.

Al dragged himself over to stand in front of Cas.

“Y/N, do you trust me?” Cas loosened his grasp of your hands.

You frantically tried to peer over your shoulder, “Cas, what’s happening?”

“Do you trust me?” he repeated.

“Yes, yes I trust you,” you replied, “but what’s going on?”

“It’s okay,” Cas’ gruff voice reassured you, “I think it’s best if we don’t protest.” The angel strongly suspected he would be able to interfere with the transfer process of the ritual, celestial energy unencumbered when Al’s soul penetrated the physical boundaries of his vessel. And surely he couldn’t fail you twice in one evening. He slipped his fingers from yours, evasive when you went hunting for them again.

“There’s a good boy,” Iasis flashed a pleased-as-punch smile at Cas, passing the other crystal to Al, “you remember the incantation, dear?”

Al bobbed his chin, raising a wilted hand to pull the cap from the balding spate of his head and hold it to the wool vest hugging his shallowly puffing chest. He began to chant in a language utterly foreign to you.

Cas observed the surging white glow of the crystal in Al’s clutches. In a blinding luster of luminance, the energy arched to strike the crystal submerged in the basin at his feet. The angel slumped limply forward against the enchanted bindings.

Al’s former body crumpled to the floor with a sickening wet plop.

“Cas!” you shrieked.

“Quickly now, Al dear,” Iasis undid the bindings securing Cas to the chair, “it’s my turn.”

He stumbled from the chair, clumsily bowing to retrieve the crystals, obediently circling to drop one of them in your basin.

“Cas?” you entreated.

He refused to so much as look at you.

Iasis tottered into position in front of you, a cruel smile plastered across her features, “I’m ready. Hand me the quartz, my love.”

No quartz was tendered over.

“Al?” she jolted electrically, features contorting, limbs contracting then going lax.

The water pump chugged ominously shriller, metal pings and pops sharply echoing off the concrete walls as the pressure swelled.

Cas’ arm roughly anchored around her shoulders as the pointed end of the crystal emerged glossy and bloodied through the center of her chest. He leaned nearer to whisper in her ear, supporting her weight as she collapsed, “I’m not your love, that sentiment belongs to another.”

Incapable of hearing him over the ruthless churning of the pump, you tried and failed to read his lips.

Iasis’ mouth parted as if to scream – a veritable river of water poured out.

The angel eased her lifeless vessel to the floor.

A colossal screeching of metal commenced, pipes bursting asunder one by one to inundate the room with explosive blasts of water. The floor rapidly began to swamp.

Cas unbound you from the chair and helped you to stand. He bellowed something in your ear, the deepness of his voice unable to cleave through the escalating racket.

Piercing pain shocked your ankle and shot up your calf as the water gushed around your feet, slamming a chunk of metal into your leg. You vexed yourself for crying in front of the angel, thankful the spray of water masked the salty tears streaking your cheeks. The physical pain was simply an excuse to let the tears flow. You wanted to vomit. You didn’t. The room swirled around you in a chaotic blur.

Cas swept you up in his arms and fled to the exit.

Rocking safely within his strong embrace, you clung to the sopping wet lapels of his trench coat, burying your face into his chest, and closing your eyes. When you deigned to open them again, Sam’s was the first face you saw.

“Hey Y/N,” the younger Winchester wore the characteristic small cheerful smile he reserved specifically for boosting spirits.

“Sam?” you attempted to sit up.

“Woah, take it easy there sweetheart!” Dean pressed a palm firmly to your shoulder, “You don’t want to pass out again. Trust me.” He smirked, green eyes glinting mischievously, “I had to stop Sammy here from drawing obscene objects on your forehead with a permanent marker.”

“Come on Dean,” Sam whined, “that was your idea.”

“So immature,” Dean shook his head disdainfully.

“What happened?” you swatted Dean’s coddling hand aside, “That last thing I remember…”

“Orthostatic hypotensive syncope,” Cas enumerated from the end of the bed.

“Gesundheit,” Dean coughed into the back of his sleeve.

Cas scowled at Dean.

“What?” you looked to Sam, the sensible brother, for a translation.

“It means you fainted because you stood up too fast,” Sam rubbed his chin, “probably a side effect from whatever drug you were injected with.”

“That’s good,” you murmured thoughtfully.

“How is that good?” Dean took the bait.

“Cause now you two have at least a solid few minutes to explain to me where the hell you’ve been all this time while we worked your case before I regain enough strength to kick your asses,” you replied, brandishing a disapproving frown.

Cas flipped the blanket up over your feet and clasped his fingers around your swollen and bruised ankle. He met your curious gaze with the trace of a smile softening his dour features, advising, “You’ll need this healed to properly kick both of their asses.” His grace spread warmly through your foot and leg, healing the sprain.

“Thanks…,” you wavered to add the term of endearment, angel, that perched naturally on the tip of your tongue, “…Cas.”

“Yeah, thanks, Cas,” Dean scoffed, “You could have let us have a running start.”

Cas gifted Dean with another unamused scowl. You got the impression from the finely tuned aesthetic of the expression that he did that a lot.

“Clock’s ticking boys,” you impatiently clucked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“It was Dean’s drunken idea,” Sam caved first, seeking to release himself of any blame by doing so.

Betrayed by his own flesh and blood, Dean made a sound like a mortally wounded animal.

“Hmm, I don’t doubt it,” you vaulted an inquiring brow in Dean’s direction, “Spill it, Winchester.”

Dean fixed his brother with a steely gaze, “Perhaps you should ask my sweet, innocent, gigantic little brother of an accomplice to hand over the contents of his left front coat pocket.” Dean refused to go down with the ship alone.

Sam’s eyes widened, giant stature shrinking under the weight of the accusation, the shift in body language alone fairly admitting to his guilt as a co-conspirator.

“Touché,” Dean mouthed the word silently to Sam, embellishing it with a wink.

Sam produced an off-white lined piece of paper folded into quarters from the aforementioned pocket, thrusting it in your general direction, all the while glaring indignantly at his brother.

Once or twice Dean glanced away, feigning interest in a speck of dust clinging to the wall, a misalignment of the wallpaper over there, a loop of carpet snagged loose in the corner, only to find Sam still burning a hole in his skull when he again dared to peek over. It made Dean’s skin crawl. After all, Sam hadn’t lied – it was Dean’s drunken idea.

You plucked the paper from between Sam’s clinched fingertips. Unfolding it to reveal the contents, you immediately recognized the neat black ink handwriting as belonging to John Winchester – the paper obviously a page neatly removed from his journal. Skimming the words, you realized it detailed the conclusion of John’s hunt here in Clifton Springs thirteen years ago, outlining the successful slaying of a lovelorn nymph calling herself Calliphaea who had run amuck in the town trying various young women on for size then discarding their lifeless bodies like ill-fitting articles of clothing. She wielded sacrosanct crystals juiced up by a particular alignment of planets occurring every thirteenth year. Curiously, these crystals went missing before he could secure them. John wrongly surmised the nymph was a one-hit wonder and labelled the hunt case-closed. In short, this single slip of paper contained a mountain of exceedingly useful material which would have saved you and Cas a heck of a lot of mis-adventure and a close call with death because, for starters, you never would have left the bunker to follow up on a closed case. Why Sam and Dean withheld this key piece of information, led you and Cas blind-folded into danger, and then ignored all attempts at establishing contact, was beyond your imagining. Dean’s drunken idea? Even drunk, you had a hard time believing Dean could be that malicious, and as far as you knew, you hadn’t done anything deserving of such cold-hearted treatment. You offered the page to Cas for perusal. “Why?” the single word query was all you could muster.

“Look…,” Dean began.

“We’re sorry,” Sam spoke over whatever excuse his brother was going to try and make, knowing the situation warranted an apology first and an explanation second, “This wasn’t supposed to be a real case.”

You wagged your head in disbelief, “What are you talking about? You left leads at the bunker. We followed the research.”

“We thought you were missing,” Cas chimed in, glancing up from the paper, “or worse.”

“I know, we know,” Sam lowered his gaze, “trust me, if we’d known there was any danger we never would have let this charade go on for as long as it did.”

“Charade?” you peered scathingly between the brothers, “A deranged geriatric water nymph and her narcotic-laced-syringe-wielding husband nearly killed me! Would have too if it wasn’t for Cas being an angel and all. Some charade!”

“You saw the journal entry, we thought our dad eliminated the threat here,” Sam counseled.

“She had a sister. Calliphaea had a sister,” you grumbled.

“The really nutty ones always have a sister,” Dean bemoaned.

“Not helping, Dean,” Sam scolded, rubbing his hands exasperatedly over his face.

“Look,” Dean began again, dissatisfied with his brother’s diplomatic approach, “this whole shebang was a set-up, an excuse to get you and Cas together. Together, together. A bonding experience if you will. No real danger, just some implied peril with a couple of not-actually-missing friends nudging things along in the right direction while warming the seats at a cheesy honky-tonk bar just across the county line.” He inserted his patented brand of off-kilter commentated reflection to try to lighten the mood, “Great strawberry daiquiris, by the way. You know, if you’re into girly drinks.” It didn’t work.

“I think you should leave,” you stated in no uncertain terms.

Sam and Dean wasted no time stealing themselves to the exit.

Cas stood stationary at the end of the bed, watching them go.

“You too, Cas,” it pained you to say it, but you needed some time alone. Time to think. Time to ponder how you felt having learned this whole ordeal was a sham-gone-sideways.

The angel met your gaze, a dejected haze muddying the crystal blue of his eyes as they searched yours and perceived the detached sincerity of your request – it instilled him with a sense of emptiness unlike anything he’d heretofore experienced. He was unsure what to say to console you, to plead his case for remaining by your side, to insist that the emotion he felt stirring inside himself toward you existed separate from Sam and Dean’s meddling. Wary of using the wrong words again, haunted by and frightened of repeated failure, he said nothing at all and slipped mutely from the room.

Over-wrought, weary of mind, body and heart, you sank into a dreamless sleep. You awoke late the next morning to gently caressing beams of sunshine spilling through the curtains to touch upon your cheeks. The beams flickered and skipped around you, broken in fits by the flutter of leaves in swaying trees outside the motel. The dance of light tickled your sleep-bleared vision; you couldn’t help but smile at the effect until you remembered – remembered curtly sending the angel away, remembered the anguished look clouding his aspect, remembered that despite the ridiculous circumstances under which it happened, in spite of yourself, you loved him.

Rolling from bed, you spotted your phone on the dresser. Like everything else in your possession last night now meticulously arranged on the wood surface, it had gotten saturated in the torrent of water. You realized it didn’t matter; you didn’t have Cas’ number anyway. You’d been inseparable these few days, and never had reason to get it. You didn’t suppose the phone directory would conveniently contain a listing for angels. You smacked your palm to your forehead, jostling your apparently also waterlogged mind – you could always pray. Your idea was deflected by the notice of an envelope slipping beneath the bottom of the door. Circling cautiously nearer, craning your neck, you read your name scrawled in perfect winding script across the front. You picked it up, turning it over in your hands a few times before carefully unsealing the flap.

The note composed inside read:

Y/N,

As you don’t wish to be in my company at present, and since in your presence I seem incapable of articulating what I mean, I’ve taken the impetus to write you this letter in an effort to restore all that which has been lost without fear of making the already regretful circumstances worse.

Firstly, regarding the grievous mess instigated by the Winchesters – while the error in Sam and Dean’s judgement is unquestionable, their hearts are in the right place. More than once they’ve forgiven me for doing far worse with the best of intentions. Each time I wonder what I have done to deserve such a loyal friendship as theirs has been. I sincerely hope for their sake, with time, you might find it in your heart to absolve them of their guilt.

Above all else, I owe you an apology. You declared your love to me, and in the delicate fleeting moment you bared this most reverent of emotions lodged within the bounds of your kind heart and beautiful soul to my unworthy being, I humbly failed to reciprocate the sentiment. It was not then, nor is it now because I do not love you in return.

This feeling when I’m with you, when you look at me, when we touch, when you laugh, when you smile, when we’re apart, when I think of you – there is no word in my vocabulary with which to contain it, none in any language I know, and I expect a term may not exist anywhere in the whole of creation itself. What you mean to me…it is so much more than love.

If you’ll allow me, I vow to spend the rest of my existence endeavoring to define for you all that you are to me.

Yours, Castiel

Note held quivering in your fingertips, dewy tears brimmed your eyes to spatter and smudge the ink in spots. Smearing your wet cheeks with the backs of your hands, you twisted the doorknob and swung in the door.

Castiel, your angel of contradictions, abided patiently on the other side – for all his awkward ineloquence in speaking his heart, he was nonetheless a poet. His sky-blue gaze illumined an impossible shade brighter when his eyes alit upon yours. He said nothing – everything that required saying already fluently expressed in the letter still held in your trembling grasp.

Awed to the point of speechlessness, you might have stood there in the rapt quietude gaping at him for hours if it wasn’t for your noticing the laptop tucked in the crook of his arm and your habitual neurotic impulse to fill silent voids with mundane observation. “What’s with the computer?” you sniffled, tears abating, “I thought you were strictly low tech.”

If Cas was surprised by your redirection, he didn’t let it show in his reply. “Sam loaned it to me,” he answered unfalteringly, “If you recall, you suggested we should watch a movie together when the case concluded.”

A delighted smile frolicked across your features at the pleasant shared memory, “I remember, in the corn field with that stunning sunrise.” Closing your eyes for a moment, you vividly evoked the elating combined warmth of his regard and the rising sun on your face, murmuring, “I fell, and you caught me.”

A blushing smile reflected in the angel’s aspect – he fell too, there in the corn field – fast and far and forevermore. “I asked Sam to arrange it so we can watch it on this device,” he offered you the computer, “That is, if you still want to…with me.”

“There isn’t anything else in the world I’d rather do right now, angel,” you shifted onto the tips of your toes to press a soft kiss to his unshaven cheek.

“Then, it’s a…,” he bashfully regarded the ground between his shoes, shuffling his weight from foot to foot, a full grin unfurling across his flushed countenance, “it’s a date?”

“It’s a date,” you clasped his hand in affirmation, giggling as you tugged him over the threshold and into your open arms. A date, a fresh start, and precisely the nudge neither of you knew you needed – all thanks to a freaking Winchester, no less.

[redinkofshame]

108. Angry kiss: Des/Solas - While on summer break/their relationship break, Solas sees Des in a restaurant having a flirtatious lunch with another man. Solas can barely contain his jealousy, obviously. Things get incredibly heated. As heated as they can get. I hunger for the Rival Teacher AU.

Dang, what a specific prompt—happy to be of service!      :3

This is… This is shameless. I am without shame. I wasn’tsure if you wanted heated between Solas/Des or Solas/other guy, so have both. Itgets a little rough. There’s some blood. Also possibly corny? Definitely NSFW.

Also Felassan is an asshole in this AU, apparently. Sorry,Felassan.honestly tho everytone is an asshole in this AU

For @dadrunkwritingAlso tagging @thevikingwoman

Solas was at a cafe, eating the pastrami sandwich he hadordered for lunch as he caught up on the news. He played some video coverage,keeping the volume of his phone low so as to not disturb the other patrons.When the video ended he heard something that disturbed him.

“Oh, you went to University of Orlais, too? Damn, myprestigious degree is usually how I impress classy ladies like yourself—nowwhat am I going to humblebrag about?”

It wasn’t the words that irked Solas, but the voice: Felassan. What was he doing in here?

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something,” a woman purred,and Solas’ eyes went wide. His stomach clenched. “If it helps your fragile maleego, I didn’t say I graduated from UO…”

It couldn’t be… Except it very well could.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you quit—I can’t see someone with your determinationlet anything stand in the way of what she wants.”

Solas leaned slowly out from the booth he sat in until hespied the couple at a table. That was Felassan’s vallaslin and arrogant grinalright, and though he could not see her face Des’ hair and figure wereunmistakable. She was leaning forward, giving the other man ample view of herlow-cut blouse.

“Mmm, flattery will get you everywhere,” she told Felassan,her hand deliberately brushing his as she reached for her glass. Solas imaginedher lashes fluttering as she said, “But at the time what I wanted most was forsomeone to be here to take care of my parents after their accident.”

“And that someone was you,” Felassan supplied, using herhardship as an excuse to reach across the table and squeeze her handcompassionately, as if he had any right at all to touch her. “I’m sorry foryour loss.”

Solas withdrew into his booth before he could witness anymore of this farce. It did not stop him from hearing her response.

“Oh, don’t be! They both made nearly full recoveries, and areretired and living in Antiva.”

They both laughed. Solas’ breath was coming roughly. Heneeded to get out of there. He needed to text Des, to tell her that Felassanwas bad news. He needed to shove the man’s face into his soup.

Why had she never told Solas about attending university? Heshould have known this about her…

Disgusted, Soals tossed some cash on the table and stood,trying not to eavesdrop.

“I apologize! I just thought, since you never went back…”

Deshonna shrugged. “I supposed I just got settled here. Ididn’t want to leave again.”

Solas had to pass the pair to get to the exit, but if hecould make it before he was recognized—

“Solas!” He winced, and turned towards the Dalish man. “Wow,I haven’t seen you in ages. You look… Well, it’s good to see you.”

“Felessan? What a surprise—what are you doing in Haven? Didyour new wife kick you out again?”

“Newest ex-wife, you mean.”

“Shame. Well, you know what they say—the fourth time is acharm. Or is it the fifth, now?”

“I take it you two know each other,” Des cut in, soundingamused as she settled back in her seat.

“’Yes,’” both men answered roughly in tandem.

“I’m here on business,” Felassan supplied.

“Pardon my memory, but what is it you do again? Some kind ofsalesman, or something else incredibly—”

“I’m an entrepreneur,” Felassan said tightly.

“—vague. Yes, that was it. Well, enjoy your stay.”

Felassan stood to shake Solas’ hand, appearing friendlydespite his crushing grip. Solas returned the punishment, eyes locked on his.

“Hey, don’t take off so soon, Solas. How do you boys knoweach other? Old army buddies, I’m guessing?”

“Yes,” Solas answered.

“We were deployed together in the 18th—”

“And I’m afraid I must be going,” Solas interrupted emphatically.He made it a point not to give any details of his military career to anyone atthe school; he didn’t need his coworkers looking into his past.

“And you two obviously know each other, too.” Felassan said,ignoring him. “What are the chances?”

“Yes,” Solas answered again. “Ms. Lavellan and I know eachother very well.”

Felassan did not miss his meaning.

Neither did Des.

“We work together,”she added, sounding less amused now.

“Oh, so you’re a high school teacher now, Solas? That’s aninteresting career move.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Is there something wrong withteaching?” he asked innocently, walking around to lay his hand on Des’ shoulderas she crossed her arms.

Felassan realized his mistake, and struggled to find a wayto insult Solas without offending the woman he was on a date with. “No, ofcourse not, I just mean, for a military general to take a job hording childreninto desks…”

It was Deshonna who cut him off before he could embarrass himselffurther, brushing Solas’ hand off of her as she said, “I bet the two of youhave a lot of old war stories and hijinks you could tell me all about.”

Damn her for being so entertained. Didn’t she see that hewas trying to warn her? “Oh, I’m sure you would not be interested in his talesof sneaking off base and into the cots of civilian women.”

“I seem to remember I was not the only one to be caughtbringing someone back to the barracks,” Felassan replied, easy grin returned,much to Solas’ frustration. “I think I’ll go have a smoke. Solas, care to joinme?”

“No thank you,” he replied tersely. “I quit.”

Felassan shrugged despite Solas not cooperating with hisplan to get him alone. “Suit yourself.”

He left, and Solas, still scowling, turned to Des. She wasbarely containing her laughter. “Well that was a lovely little pissing contest.What, did you sleep with his ex-wife?”

Solas could have pointed out that it was actually the otherway around, but he kept it to himself. “You need to call off whatever you havegoing on with him, Deshonna,” he demanded.

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me what to do, Solas,” shewarned him.

He opted not to point out that she liked it well enough inthe bedroom. “Listen to me—”

“Stop it. You’re making a scene.” She glanced around therestaurant, though there were few people there during work hours.

Solas gripped her upperarm and pulled her from her chair.

“What do you think you’redoing?” she hissed. He ignored her, pulling her into the little hall thatled to the bathrooms and emergency exit.

She pulled out of his grip as he released her. “Please,Deshonna. I have known that man for decades, and you are better off avoidinghim.”

“I’m a big girl, asshole. Where do you get off telling mewho I can and cannot date?”

“I am saying this because I care about you, Deshonna! We talked about this, remember?”

“When? Oh, right, that little rant about putting the ‘buddy’back into ‘fuckbuddies’.”

It had actually been a conversation about learning to treateach other with respect.

“Yes. You may date whomever you wish—”

“Gee, thanks for your permission!”

“—but Felassan is not what you are looking for!” Neither wasSolas, according to Des, which was a wound that never healed. A nosey employeestuck their head around the corner at the sound of his hissing, and Solasgrabbed Des by the wrist and tugged her through the emergency door.Fortunately, the alarm did not go off. Outside, he told her, “He will work hisway in, making you depend on him, and then just when you need him the most he’lldisappear. Trust my expertise in this, Deshonna.”

She considered him a moment, and then sighed, leaning herrear against the cement brick wall behind her and eyeing the secluded alleyway.“Yeah, alright. You would know, I guess. Damn… I really liked him.” Solasbreathed a sigh of relief as she shook her head, disappointed.

“Thank you,” he said,ignoring the vice grip of jealousy around his guts—she ‘liked’ Felassan, butdespite his best efforts she still claimed to hate him.

“Yeah, well, thanks for looking out for me, I guess. I’llmake sure he knows this will just be a one-time thing.”

Fenedhis lasa, she was still planning to sleep with him?! Solastried to voice his concern but all that came out was a growl. He moved intoher, his hand twisting in her hair to prevent her head from hitting the wallbehind her. He ignored the scrape against his knuckled as he crushed his lipsto hers, pining her.

After a moment she pushed him away, though she didn’t putmuch strength into it. “I’m on a date,asshole!”

His free hand reached between them, hiking up her skirt onone side. He wedged his hand between her thighs, running his fingers along herpanties. “What do you need him for, vhenan?” he asked in huskily in her ear. Solasdidn’t care for public spaces for this sort of thing, but he was very familiar with how they drove Descrazy. Her stance widened for him, and he scraped finger along her damp slitthrough the fabric. “You told me no one can do you as well as I can, remember?”

She whimpered and tried to arch her head back, though hisgrip prevented it. “I never should have told you that,” she complained, voicethick. He continued working her as she stammered, “Besides, variety is thespice of, ah, uh, the spice of life.”

“There are difference kinds of variety,” he replied,changing the motion of his fingers.

He felt her writhing beneath his hands as she focused onwhat they were doing to her. It took only seconds for her to wrap her handsbehind his neck and kiss him fiercely, stopping only for breath and to whimper,“Yes. Yes, now, please baby…” She hiked her leg up around his hip and reacheddown awkwardly to pull her panties aside for him. He groaned as he watched herexpose herself, reaching for his wallet and the condom inside. “No, it’s okay,skip it this time. Fuck, please, hurry…”

He was rarely willing to skip this step, considering it asign of respect for her, but he was worried about taking time in a publicspace. He didn’t bother with his belt, releasing her to frantically fish outhis cock as she demanded. Then he pressed her back, helping hike up her leghigh enough for him to enter her.

They both stifled cries as he pressed past her folds. Oh,she felt like heaven, like bliss… Slick, so slick, and burning hot.  He held her leg for leverage as he moved withher, eagerly lost in the sensation of being sheathed in her but not in latex.

He could not ask for better—even now, if she returned to herdate, she would do so with his cum still dripping from her, her thighs stilldamp.

Solas did not completely lose his faculties, and saw ashadow nearing the alleyway. He was not about to lose this moment to somepedestrian who likely wouldn’t notice or care, but he feared that Des might ifshe knew. He turned her head away from the alley entrance, biting her ear andgrowling slightly as he took her to drown out any sound of footsteps.

Solas couldn’t help but look as the pedestrian crossed intohis line of vision—it was Felassan, cigarette in hand and surprise on his face.

Des cried out as Solas lifted her other leg, both now wrappedaround him as he fucked her up against the wall.

The other man shook his head with a wry grin before he wentback the way he came, not that Solas cared. He was much more concerned with Descresting, making his movements faster, rougher, so that she screamed as shecame, the sound echoing in the narrow space.

The feel of her walls clenching against his bare shaft washis undoing, and he muffled a moan as he spilled into her for the first time inmonths. “Vhenan!”

~~~

Solas wore an easy smile by the time he cleaned himself upand left the restaurant. There was little he could do for Des’ dampness on thefly of his pants, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He walked to theparking lot, turning a corner—and there hewas, leaning against his car.

Even this unwelcome guest couldn’t foul Solas’ good mood. “Felassan,”he greeted as the Dalish man pushed himself off the car.

“Solas. That was quite the show you put on back there.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Solasanswered, pulling out his keys. “Though it was kind of you to pay for her mealbefore you left, despite the date not ending in your favor.”

He shrugged. “Hey, what can I say, I’m an old-fashioned guy—thoughI wouldn’t say that it ended that poorly. She text me to apologize for ‘disappearing’…So I offered to let make it up to me by coming to my place for drinks tonight.”

Solas stilled, keys in the lock. His eyes narrowed. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Hey, maybe you can tell me: she’s the type of girlwho’ll let you record it, right? Pft, what am I saying; I’ll just bend her overand use my phone. She’ll never even know. If you’d like I could send you the—”

Solas fist slammed into Felassan’s face as his right hooktook them both by surprise. Pain flared in his hand but he ignored it, stillseeing red as the other man staggered back, coughing on the blood streamingfrom his nose.

Solas advanced on Felassan, who tried to fend him off, butSolas twisted his hand in the man’s collar and forced him against the wall, hishead cracking lightly. Seething, Solas got in his face. Through clenched teethhe asked, “Am I going to have to send you to the hospital to get you to cancelthat date, Felassan?”

The Dalish man laughed, and spat blood onto the cement. Hegave Solas a limp salute. “No, sir. All I said was that I offered—she turned medown. She’s all yours, General.”

“No, she’s not,” Solas said truthfully, releasing Felassan. “Butshe damn well won’t be yours.”

[notherefortheanonhate]

Space is Lonely Without You

Pairing: Zethrid x Acxa  Rating: General (hehehe pun unintentional) Words: 1,051 Prompt: Space

Zethrid worries when Acxa goes on the mission to the Weblum. 

“Acxa.” Lotor called from his chair. “I have a special mission for you.” Acxa turned away from her console. “Yes?” Lotor grinned. “I need you to go get scaultrite.” “Inputting coordinates for the nearest swap moon.” Ezor said from her station.

Lotor sighed. “No, not a swap moon. A Weblum.” “What’s a Weblum?” Zethrid asked. “It’s a giant animal that produces scaultrite.” Lotor said. “I’ll give you an instructional video that my mother helped make, Acxa. Narti, find the nearest weblum, Zethrid, get a fighter ready.”

Zethrid saluted him, and proceeded to the hangar. A few minutes after she’d prepped a pod, Acxa stepped into the room in her suit. “Are you ready?” Zethrid asked, her voice thick with emotion. Acxa smiled. “I am, Zeth. Don’t worry, I’ll come back.”

“Well, now I’m going to worry about that.” Zethrid said mulishly. Acxa laughed, and pressed a kiss to Zethrid’s nose. “I love you.” Zethrid pulled Acxa into a better kiss. “I love you too. Come back soon.”

“I promise I’ll be back in a few vargas at worst.” Acxa grinned. “You better.” Zethrid grumbled, but she was smiling. Zethrid’s fur whipped and blew into her eyes as she opened the hangar door and Acxa revved the engine. Acxa blew a kiss, and then she was gone, off into the wide expanse of space.

Acxa didn’t return within vargas, and she wasn’t back by the next quintant. Zethrid kept glancing at Lotor to see if he was worried. He didn’t really seem to be, but then again, Lotor wasn’t much given to emotion. Narti and Ezor weren’t worried either, but they never seemed worried about anything.

However, by the next quintant, Zethrid noticed that Cova’s attention was either on her or on Lotor at all times, and that the cat seemed agitated. That didn’t bode well for Acxa, but she forced herself to calm down. Acxa would be fine. Acxa would always be fine.

The third quintant, even Ezor seemed worried. Lotor finally sighed. “I assume you’re all wondering about Acxa. It was… a dangerous mission. It’s very likely she didn’t survive. I’m sorry, it’s not a mistake that I will make again.” Zethrid couldn’t really hear anything after that besides the blood rushing to her ears and the pounding of her heartbeat. Acxa… didn’t survive… she was vaguely aware of Ezor helping her to her room, but that was the room that she shared with Acxa. Her scent still lingered over everything she had touched. Zethrid cried herself to sleep that night, and didn’t leave the room the next quintant. She knew her scent would soon overpower Acxa’s, but she needed something of her lover.

The fifth quintant after Acxa had left, Narti came to collect her. Ezor had put the ship into a jump. “Sorry, milord.” Zethrid muttered. “I’m up for whatever mission we need.” Lotor cracked his neck. “That’s good. We’re pulling into the main fleet, and everyone’s on shore leave.” Ezor grinned at Zethrid. “They found Acxa! She has the scaultrite, and she’s mostly fine.”

Zethrid’s heart nearly stopped. “Wh-what?” Narti nodded, and Zethrid pulled both of her friends into a crushing hug. “Too… tight…” Ezor choked out. Narti nodded emphatically.

“I—she—mostly fine?” Zethrid asked as she released her friends. Mostly fine was still a lot better than dead, but she wanted Acxa to always be fine. Was that selfish? She didn’t care just then. “She apparently jettisoned her ship at some point. They found her drifting with an empty jetpack and a bag of scaultrite.” Lotor remarked as Ezor and Narti caught their breath.

Zethrid steeled herself internally. She was no longer the frightened child, barely into her adult ears, that she was when Lotor –well, when Acxa—found her. She bowed deeply. “Thank you, milord. Vrepit Sa.” To be fair, Lotor hadn’t actually done anything except send Acxa into deep space, but he’d get offended if he didn’t get credit.

Lotor smirked, and the next few hours to the part of the fleet where Acxa was were spent with Zethrid trying to rush, to the point where she was pointedly watching Ezor for seven out of the ten doboshes it took for them to link up to the fleet. Zethrid was also the first off of the ship. “Other way!” Ezor called. Zethrid quickly reversed. “I knew that!”

She found Acxa’s room easily enough. Acxa was asleep, so Zethrid, normally large, loud, and brash, took a seat on a nearby chair and waited patiently for her to wake up. The others came and went, but Acxa only woke up vargas later.

“How are you feeling?” Zethrid asked gently. Acxa grimaced. “Not great. Better, now that you’re here.” “Sap.” Zethrid laughed. “It’s true!” Acxa insisted, before she motioned for Zethrid to come closer. Zethrid moved to the edge of the bed, and Acxa buried her face in Zethrid’s chest. “Mm. I missed you.”

“Where were you?” Zethrid asked. “Inside a beast that eats planets and travels through space.” Acxa replied easily. “Got saved by two of those paladins Lotor’s parents love to rant about.” “Don’t joke.” Zethrid insisted. “I almost lost you.” Acxa sighed, and Zethrid noticed how her breath rattled. “The sad thing is, I didn’t even get to see the stars while I was in there. Did you map stars for me while I was gone?”

Zethrid scoffed, but it was more fond than exasperated. “I was too worried about you. Don’t worry about the stars, we’ll go see them together.” Acxa nestled even closer. “Mm… so you need me to point out what’s so great about space, even after all this time?” “I need you for a lot more, I always have.” Zethrid insisted. “Space isn’t the same without you by my side though, you’re right.”

Acxa chuckled, low and hoarsely, “Well then. I guess I’m not leaving you for a while.” Zethrid kissed the top of Acxa’s head. “I hope not.” Acxa took advantage of their positioning and leaned up to kiss Zethrid. “I promise I won’t leave you. I’ll keep it this time-- I love you, Zeth.” “I love you too, Acxa, and I believe you… ­this time.”

As their chuckles echoed down the hall, they both felt maybe—just maybe—everything would be alright. Just for a little while.  

[white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen]

Our Commitments

Summary: Neal (with some help) puts together a nice night for you, culminating in a very important question. Though the answer isn’t what he expects, it ends better for you both than he’d hoped.

Words: 3,081

            You and Neal had a long-standing date night. It was hard to promise that you’d be able to spend time together in advance, what with him being on call for the FBI whenever they wanted him, so instead, you set a standing date every Saturday night, so you both planned around Saturdays. The bureau didn’t often call him in on the weekend, so it usually worked out.

            That’s why it was so weird that Mozzie was the one opening the door for you on Saturday evening, dressed in one of his nice “lawyer” suits, a stemless rose pinned to his lapel. You paused and looked to him strangely.

            “Moz, I’m flattered, but I can’t do that to Neal.” You flatly stated.

            Mozzie looked up at you over the rim of his glasses and sarcastically laughed. “Hardy-har-har. Neal sent me. He regrets to inform you that the Suits have sequestered him, and he would like me to entertain you in his stead.”

            “…Why?” It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy hanging out with Mozzie; it just seemed odd.

            Moz frowned and gestured to his face emphatically. “Do I look like a six-foot-tall model? No? Well, then I’m probably not Neal, so how would I know what he thinks?”

            You knew when you’d stepped on a landmine, so you put your hands up and took a step backwards. “Whoa there, fine, chillax.” You didn’t want to get him started on a rant if you were destined to spend the next several hours with him. “Alright, I guess you’re my date. Where are we going?”

            Mozzie pointedly looked over your shoulder. You sighed and stepped back, moving out of the way. He came out of the penthouse without so much as giving you the chance to see inside, closing the door firmly behind him. So we’re not staying here… Well, you silently hoped that your destination wasn’t somewhere outdoors. You were wearing leggings under your dress, but you hadn’t thought to wear a second layer over your arms.

            You turned towards the hallway. Mozzie straightened down the hem of his jacket and offered you his arm. “Shall we be on our way?”

            No matter how strange it was, Moz was Neal’s best friend, and he’d never intentionally do anything to make you mad at your boyfriend, so all you could do was assume that Neal really had given Moz the green light to substitute himself as your partner. You guessed he’d probably made reservations somewhere and wanted you to be able to make them, even if he couldn’t.

            “I’m at your mercy,” you responded, linking arms.

            It seemed like you were right about the reservations. Mozzie took you to dinner at your favorite French restaurant and was great company (excluding the part where he called you an uncultured Machiavellian because he disapproved of your taste in wines).

            He lifted a glass to you thoughtfully after your appetizers were cleared. “You’ve taken this well.”

            “This is not the strangest thing that’s happened,” you reminded him with a giggle. “Remember the Burmese Embassy?”

            “Ah, yes.” Moz leaned back and smiled reminiscently. “You broke down crying in front of the ambassador and wouldn’t get out of his way until the smoke bomb went off.”

            You blushed, feeling your ears turning pink. “It looked like you guys were struggling.”

            “We would’ve adapted,” Mozzie claimed, holding his head high proudly. “… But your help was appreciated. Neal got really lucky when he found you.”

            You smiled down at your napkin. You were used to praise like that raining down on you in the WCCD; it was how his teammates teased Neal. Mozzie was far more skeptical of you, and hadn’t thought that you’d be able to tolerate the antics and schedule of a con artist. Having him bestow your relationship with a blessing like that meant a lot, especially since you knew how highly Neal valued his opinion.

            “Where to next?” You asked Mozzie when he didn’t immediately flag down a taxi after leaving the restaurant. He was surreptitiously checking his phone. You realized suddenly that this had probably been as last-minute for him as it was for you. “Do you need to be somewhere? Thanks for dinner, it was fun, but you don’t have to stay. I can find my way home.”

            “Neal planned this entire night. We are not skimping out just because he’s not here.” Mozzie insisted, pocketing his phone again. He had a stubborn note to his voice that made you realize that even if you had wanted to go home right that instant, you would’ve needed a serious excuse to do so. “Our next stop is in the park. Are you up for a walk?”

            You scoffed. “Can you keep up?”

            He glared. “I’m bald, not handicapped.” It made you smile and laugh.

             After a long, slow walk through Central Park, you realized that you were making one long loop. Instead of saying anything, you just kept chatting with Mozzie about anything lighthearted. He shared about a letter campaign he was writing, complained about Peter breaking a rake (you didn’t ask), and mentioned an upcoming job in Chicago he was thinking about joining. At that point, you cut him off and steered the discussion elsewhere.

            He kept on looking at his watch. You felt more and more worried that he didn’t actually want to be with there, which made you uncomfortable. You stealthily checked out yours, too, while he was holding a hand over his wrist to shield the read-out from the glare of a street lamp. At almost ten, he seemed like the tightly-wound coil in him had loosened, permitting him to relax. You hadn’t noticed how tense he was until he wasn’t anymore.

            “I know I’ve already asked, but are you sure you’re okay?” You asked suspiciously. What was special about the time?

            “I’m perfect.” Mozzie paused, cocked his head, and admitted, “Actually, I pulled a muscle doing- well, you don’t want to know. Don’t concern yourself with my wellbeing.” After what you’d heard about Chicago, you quickly agreed. Plausible deniability was one of your favorite phrases.

            Your odd little loop cycle ended, and Moz started to take you on a sidewalk trail that you knew went towards the edge of the park. You crossed your arms and hugged yourself while you walked back. There was a yellow cab sitting at the curb when you left the large, open, wrought-iron gates. The conman took you directly to it and opened the back door for you.

            “When did you have time to flag this down?” You asked, wondering if this was another thing Neal had planned in advance.

            “I would never tell my secrets.” Mozzie stated with a completely straight face. “This is where I bid you adieu. Driver!” He caught the driver’s attention and recited Neal’s address, then he leaned back out of the way and held onto the upper frame of the door to swing it shut. “This is where I bid you adieu.”

            To say that you were startled would be an understatement. “But I don’t live there!” You objected. Your protest fell on deaf ears. Mozzie closed your door and started to leave back into the park, abandoning you to the tobacco-scented taxi and the tired-looking driver.

            June’s manor was dark and empty when the taxi dropped you off, and you still didn’t have any texts from Neal. You stood on the porch for a minute, wondering what your welcome status was. Would it be weird to go inside and wait for him to come home? Would June be alright with you letting yourself in while Neal wasn’t there? Maybe you should just call another taxi.

            The reminder of your ride here made you wrinkle your nose. City transport wasn’t exactly fresh or clean. Inside it is, then. You could always just explain yourself.

            June wasn’t so predictable that she stored an extra key underneath her welcome mat, but Neal had let you in on the secret that there was a hollow spot in the back of one of the flower pots. It was clever and crafty, and you kept meaning to ask how she made it. You slipped your fingers in and found the key, then used it on the door before putting it back in the pot.

            The dog was kept somewhere else in the house so that he couldn’t come bother the staff when they arrived in the mornings, but June didn’t usually restrict his house access until a little later. You had to assume she wasn’t home. Since there was no one to say hello to, you made a beeline for the stairs and found your way to the penthouse. You tried the door to find it was unlocked. It swung open easily, showing off everything behind it.

            It was dim, with warm glows from electric candles on pretty much every surface. The room smelled like your favorite perfume had been sprayed around. You started to smile shyly and looked down to your feet, willing the redness to leave your cheeks. Well, this explained why Mozzie sent you to the wrong address and kept checking his phone. You were exactly where Neal wanted you to be.

            “Honey,” you giggled, “I’m home!”

            You tried to guess where he was, what he was doing, because he wasn’t in the main area of the penthouse. Laundry seemed kind of inconsistent with the romantic ambience, and you couldn’t hear any water running from a steamy shower or bath. Then you noticed that the balcony door had been left pushed open. One of the rich, thick curtains was blowing softly from the breeze that came outdoors, and more flickering candlelight was casting thin, warm shadows over the doorway.

            Neal didn’t surprise you very often, and you didn’t think he’d ever recruited Mozzie to help him. You got a little excited, wondering what made the occasion so special. Maybe the bureau had realized what a dick Kramer had been and was offering another parole hearing? It was farfetched, but unless he’d had a spontaneous personal epiphany, you weren’t sure what else it could be. Nothing had come up lately that warranted a celebration of this scale.

            On the balcony, a lovely vase of hydrangeas that complimented the color of your eyes sat between a square pattern of candles. Neal stood by the table with his hands behind his back proudly, wearing a button-down shirt that you had bought him underneath a dressy grey vest.

            Holding a hand out, you asked, “What’s this?” A small, pleased smile played on your lips as you walked closer to Neal, coming close enough to reach for his hands.

            His delighted, proud smile widened. “Showing you all over again the lengths I’ll go to to keep a smile on your face.”

            Because you weren’t nearly as good with words as he was, you knew that whatever you came up with on the spot would pale next to what he could throw at you. Instead, you stood up on your toes and pressed your lips together in a brief but sweet kiss.

            As you pulled away, he leaned forwards, his hands reaching for your waist and hesitating just before he touched you. You just saw longing and affection deep in his eyes. It was the kind of expression you gave him when he was distracted by something else.

            “Y/N.” Neal drew in a breath and rocked back onto his feet, tightening his gentle grip on your hands. “My perfect soulmate.” The heat rose to your face again. He chuckled at the effect he had on you – as if he had ever doubted it – and squeezed your fingers. “You are… everything I’ve ever dreamed. You give me more than I deserve.”

            The butterflies twisting in your stomach made you speak before you thought it through. “Is this where you altruistically pawn me off on Mozzie because you think I’m too good for you?” Although you knew that was unlikely, you were beginning to grow worried. Neal was sweet, but he rarely – if ever – wore his heart on his sleeve when there wasn’t something seriously wrong.

            “Never.” He locked his electric eyes on yours. “I may not think I’m the best choice for you, but I’m too selfish to try to talk you out of it. Y/N…” He swallowed, seeming lost for words, and shook his head. “I know I talk a lot. And you know I’m an expert at saying everything without saying anything. So instead of monologuing about how much I love you, I’m going to just show you.”

            Without letting go of your hands, he slowly sank down to one knee, never looking away from your face. You felt your heartbeat rapidly pounding in your chest, the nerves shooting higher in your belly until it felt like they were choking your lungs.

            “Y/N, you take me as I am. You ask me not to be anyone else. The truth is, I’ll be anyone you want, but it means the world to me that the one you want is me. You have me. You have me for the rest of my life.” Still staring up at you with hopefulness and nervousness, Neal finished with what you’d suspected was coming ever since he knelt before you. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

            There was no doubt in your mind that you were absolutely head over heels for the man in front of you. There was no question of loyalty or trust. Given the chance, you’d jump to stay with him for the rest of your life. But marriage… the big M word had started scaring you as soon as you grew out of dressing up like princesses for Halloween, and it had never really stopped.

            You just didn’t see how there was really a point, for one. Other than tax benefits and legal details, marriage served to reaffirm to the public what wasn’t really their business to know, anyway, and you knew it was a slightly outdated convention. The purposes it had served in the past weren’t strictly necessary anymore. Oh, you saw the beauty of the ceremony, understood the romance of declaring your devotion to another person for all of eternity. Hell, the idea of being able to call Neal yours, your husband, sent a happy thrill up your spine.

            But that was a huge commitment. It got the law involved, it made it necessary for other people to know where you stood with each other. A relationship by marriage was so much harder to end, so much more difficult to leave if things went wrong, and it meant so much compromise, giving up parts of your independence and your freedoms that you weren’t sure you were ready to share with anyone – not even Neal. The idea of having finances or real estate or insurance or anything else that someone else, even if that person was Neal, had a right to know about and act on freaked you out. Although it made you feel terrible, there was also a small part of you – a very small part, but a part, nonetheless – that worried about what ramifications it might have on your future if you were permanently and publicly tied to an ex-con.

            You’d known Neal was a complete romantic at heart, but somehow, it had never occurred to you that maybe he’d want something major that you definitely didn’t, and weren’t sure you ever would. You just knew that you couldn’t agree to it tonight. You couldn’t agree to marry him if you weren’t sure that you actually wanted to. It would destroy him to know you’d said yes because you felt like it was too awkward or hurtful to say anything else.

            Standing over him made you feel even worse, so you slipped down onto your own knees and leaned into him, pulling your hands free and throwing your arms around his neck. You buried your face in his shoulder while Neal, bewildered but patient, made a soft cooing noise and rubbed his hands down your back.

            After a few seconds, you decided that you’d transferred your stresses between each other enough to reach a tentative equilibrium. You felt brave enough to speak, but you could feel the tension that had built up in his overly-straight back and tight arms.

            You leaned back far enough to put your hands on his shoulders. He put his on your hips. “I love you so much,” you admitted freely. That wasn’t a secret. You would never be afraid or ashamed of that being common knowledge. “And maybe someday, we can get married. Beautiful ceremony, our friends, Mozzie’s weirdly synchronized pigeon task force – whatever you want. Right now, though, I don’t think I want to make that choice, and I really hope that’s okay.”

            “Of course,” Neal responded immediately, sounding surprised and a little wounded that you’d felt the need to ask for assent. “Darling, I’d never want you to agree if you didn’t one hundred percent want to.”

            “We both have a lot going on now. And I think before we make a commitment like that, for the entire world to see, we need to know more about us first. I mean, we’ve never really talked about where we’ll be a few years from now. Do you know what you’ll be doing when your sentence is up? What about when my interim position here ends, and I have to get another job?”

            Neal’s hands never left your waist. “I’ll go wherever you go,” he vowed.

            You smiled at him. “That’s sweet, but I’m not going to be your anchor. You have to make choices, too, and then we’ll have to fit them together. Maybe compromise on some things. That’s okay, that’s what people in relationships do, but let’s get to that point before trying to draw promises on foundations that don’t exist yet.”

            He reluctantly bobbed his head, looking down to the necklace you wore – a necklace that he had given you, in fact, on an anniversary. His eyes went back up to yours with a brighter smile. “Like I said, you have me for the rest of my life. Whether or not I’m wearing a wedding band doesn’t change that.”

            You moved one of your hands from his shoulder and cupped the back of his head. Neal leaned in and tilted his head slightly, his eyes falling shut peacefully. You kissed softly in the moon- and candlelight, holding each other until your knees began to ache from the concrete.

Requested by @strongvoiced-finwe

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[gwyvian]

Heart of the Forge

Chapter 2: Falling Stars

“I am not your hostage,” Ryder glared up at Akksul, trying to hide the tremors that rippled through her. “You don’t get to just shout at me and expect a miracle!”

“I need a way out, now,” Akksul glared right back. “If you won’t help me I will do it alone!”

Ryder shook her head emphatically. “Splitting up will get us both killed.” She tried to speak calmly, hoping to evoke the scientist in him to rationally think the situation through, but he was so infuriating that she caught herself shouting right back at him more than once now. “We need a strategy, I don’t have the same advantages now that I had when I was using the vaults, but at least I have experience using RemTech.”

“Exploring is the only way we will know if there is another way out,” Akksul replied, clearly exasperated. “And you call yourself an expert at this,” he scoffed. “How have your people even survived in Andromeda if you are this timid?”

She clenched her jaw. “It’s called ‘common sense’, something you of all people should know is essential when dealing with anything involving RemTech.”

“So you plan out every step you take?” Akksul sneered. “Had I known that beforehand I would have defeated you long ago.”

“That just goes to show that you should actually bother to get to know the enemies you fight,” Ryder smiled humorlessly.

“You only won because you used the Resistance to get to us,” Akksul retorted.

“Are we really going to nitpick how I defeated your insane plan?”

Akksul hesitated, but the burn in his eyes never faded even by a hair. “No, I am going to do something about the situation while you waste time,” he said with a grimace. Clearly his defeat still smarted; but there was also a surprising amount of doubt in his eyes mixed with that fire and that intrigued Ryder. Still, his constant needling infuriated her too much for her to pay attention to anything else except how much she wanted to do something painful to him.

“We agreed on a truce, remember? That means we should agree on how to proceed,” she gritted her teeth.

“A truce means that I don’t kill you where you stand, I do not have to agree with you,” he scowled.

“But since we’re both stuck here, we should work together.”

“I don’t need your help, human, I will do this alone if you don’t cooperate.”

“You don’t have dozens of Roekaar at your back to protect you down here! Or have you been playing at being the ‘savior of the angara’ too long to remember that RemTech is incredibly dangerous? We need to figure out this place before we go anywhere.”

“So your plan is to just wait around until they succeed in killing the Moshae?” he demanded.

“My connection to SAM is weak,” Ryder said flatly, “you need to be patient while he works out how to break through that dampening field, or whatever it is. The Moshae has all the protection the Initiative and the Resistance can muster, running headlong into Remnant bots and getting yourself killed is not going to help save anyone.”

“According to you,” Akksul scoffed. “You keep saying that as if your protection mattered.”

Ryder shook her head. “Believe it or not, it’s the truth. Now, we need to sit down and think this through,” she added; she very much wanted to take a moment to evaluate the situation properly, if only Akksul could sit still long enough for her to make use of his supposed knowledge, but the suggestion definitely came in large part from an intense desire to curl up into a ball right there on the spot and just die.

Hours had passed since Zivrel had tossed them down the gravity well, but unfortunately her assessment of how well she adjusted to SAM’s absence was proving to be inaccurate; the pain hadn’t dulled even a little and though her nerves weren’t exactly on fire as the first time, it was close enough that it put her on edge. Moving carefully, she suited her words and approached one of the containers, sinking down onto it gratefully and trying to appear at ease while feeling not even close to it.

“What is wrong with you?” Akksul frowned at her, tilting his head speculatively. It wasn’t exactly concern in his voice, but Ryder had the feeling that he was a little fascinated despite himself. At least, this was the first time that his expression wasn’t disdainful, arrogant or hostile; perhaps for the first time she was catching a glimpse of the Moshae’s beloved student.

“It’s nothing,” Ryder answered, trying to smooth the suffering from her features, though nothing could smooth away the unbearably itching desire to do anything to stop that pain. If SAM didn’t break through that barrier soon, she might just abandon dignity after a time and just thrash on the floor; but then again, if there was one thing that would keep her collected, it was the idea of Akksul watching such a display. He would not be given the satisfaction even if it killed her.

Akksul sneered. “You speak of truces and logic, yet you lie to my face. This is why I do not trust your kind, human.”

Ryder closed her eyes for a moment. This was going to be a very long wait. “SAM is intrinsically connected to my physiology. That dampening field is partially cutting him off and therefore I am in incredible pain. Happy?”

Perhaps she shouldn’t have revealed that to him; after all, it could be used against her, especially with the Roekaar in possession of that device, but she wasn’t exactly thinking clearly at the moment. I hope I don’t regret trusting you, she thought as she frowned at him, sure that he would start ranting about her weakness or humanity’s lack of elegant and efficient designs or some other nonsense. To her surprise however, Akksul began to study her rather than making the smart remark she expected. It didn’t last, of course, the moment he realized he had shown genuine interest in her unique connection to the AI he blinked at her, gave a noise of disgust and walked away from her, heading towards the inner chamber again. It had been the first thing he tried to do once their standoff ended, but this time she was afraid simple words wouldn’t stop him.

“Akksul!” Ryder called after him. “Damn you, I’m not saving you if a bot tries to kill you!”

As expected, he ignored her.

Stubbornly she waited there for minutes that took an eternity to pass, determined to be the better woman and remain calm, ready to discuss strategy when he came crawling back once he realized there was only one way out. She tried passing the time by peering around at the containers, wondering what they held, then she tried to work out what possible function this structure could serve, since it clearly wasn’t a vault based on the more uniform, spherical design, but every time a theory occurred to her she inevitably ran into the conclusion that she did need to explore the place to have any real answers. The thought infuriated her, imagining the mocking smile Akksul would flash at her the moment she turned up on his heels, but no matter how she looked at it she kept realizing that staying there was foolish.

There was no helping it; for all she knew, Akksul might have already been picked off by a bot or some trap he was sure to forget to check for, but one thing was certain: she couldn’t sit still and hope for him to turn up alive. Not to mention that if he did find another way out by some miracle, she was certain he wouldn’t come back for her. Muttering imprecations under her breath, she slid off the container and braced herself for the wash of aching pain that inevitably came every time she moved a muscle and hobbled after him. He was going to get himself killed and probably her along with him; she had no intention of letting that happen without at least putting up a fight.

I recomm— SAM’s grating voice suddenly spoke in her mind, a painful slice that sent her hands to her head.

Once the agony finally stopped, Ryder opened her eyes and blinked, trying to clear her vision and reorient herself. How she was supposed to do anything except suffer in this condition she didn’t know, only that she had to try even if it left her whimpering. When her breath came less forced and she felt a little more in control again, she started out on Akksul’s trail again, eyes roaming over everything. Clearly SAM had been trying to say something significant to her; if he had tried to recommend that she do or make note of something down here, that meant that his sensory input was still intact and that there was something worth paying attention to. That could be useful, provided that he worked out how to talk to her again without giving her a splitting headache; at the moment, however, he hadn’t said enough for her to understand.

“What did you want me to see, SAM?” she muttered, eyes travelling up the glowing pillars, watching their etchings pulse with a glow that made them seem alive. There was something rigidly symmetrical in the way they were organized here which she hadn’t seen in vaults before, but then, there was no telling if that had any significance whatsoever. She did notice, however, that the odd lights that kept popping up in the vaults seemed to be absent here, as if the place had been completely stripped of everything but the walls themselves.

Gunfire.

Ryder stared for a moment before breaking into a run as best she could, trying to accept the pain and ignore it. Twice she started down a corridor and she began to hear a subtle difference in the sound of gunfire that told her she was leaving it behind and she backtracked, gritting her teeth and promising herself things she would do to Akksul for forcing her to exert herself this much. The third time she turned around she skidded to a halt in the connecting chamber she had been trying to get out of since minutes, cautiously eyeing the silvery ferrofluid coursing around the sides gently gurgling like mystical rivers, but when faced with three identical passageways across from her she suddenly realized that she had no idea which one she had emerged from originally.

“I’m going to strangle that man,” Ryder said, picking one at random and hoping that this time it was the right one.

To her relief, it was indeed the right corridor, which she learned as a something sheared through the edge of her shields only to burn its way into a pillar behind her where the corridor bended and she rolled to the side. Tried to roll at least; she ended up an aching, tangled mess, but she made the most of it and approached the meager shelter the chamber’s archway offered, unholstering her weapon. Where were those convenient hiding places? Her experiences so far suggested that every Remnant structure seemed to have military function in that way, with choke points, shields and blast panels, although she was ready to admit that they might have served an entirely different purpose originally. Still, their absence here bothered her.

Akksul was just ahead on the opposite side, also hiding behind the edge of the archway that let into the neighboring chamber, firing shots at what looked like a writhing multitude of bots that occasionally coiled in his direction. She couldn’t see much from where she was, but from what she did see the chamber was identical to the room she just left, except maybe the light coming from the pillars was slightly different. She groaned softly; navigating this particular structure would be even worse than finding her way in the vaults.

As she cautiously moved closer she couldn’t help but study the archway itself; it was unlike any Remnant architecture she had seen before, though she wasn’t sure exactly what it was about it that was so different. She didn’t have time to contemplate it as a snakelike bot with a myriad of oddly positioned legs suddenly broke off from the mass and rushed at her; she shot it, but to her surprise the pieces broke apart and the swarm kept on crawling towards her. Worse, those ‘legs’ abruptly twisted as if alive and began to pellet her with looked like needles; it seemed perplexingly harmless as a weapon, but to her astonishment her shields began to buckle almost instantly and she rolled away again, trying to get out of its line of fire.

“Shoot the head!” Akksul shouted at her.

“Where is its head?” Ryder demanded irritably, dodging around painfully as the pieces of the snake bot tried to swarm her, heart racing from the effort and breath coming shorter each time she had to jump away or roll to the side. Why wasn’t any of it attacking Akksul?

Akksul scoffed. “The one with the eye, what did you think?”

Grimacing, she spotted one with an unusual round marking on it and shot, but missed, hand still too unsteady to aim at such a quick target properly. Dancing back to stay out of reach, eventually a bullet did find the eye and abruptly all the pieces clattered and rolled away lifelessly, the faint glow along its body fading. Gasping for air, she hobbled back to the side to avoid those needles and whatever else kept firing at them; it wasn’t a turret, but something in that room was intent on keeping them out. Every millimeter of her screamed for her to sit down and rest for a spell, but she gritted her teeth and took cover opposite Akksul, trying to lay down suppressive fire to keep more of the bots from crawling out.

“I’ve never seen these before,” she said a little breathlessly, glancing at him. She did a double take as she saw another, much larger snake bot ghosting along the walls above, aiming straight for Akksul; without thinking her weapon rose to it and she unloaded as many bullets into it as she could, hoping that at least one hit its mark, but to her horror the bullets just glanced off its plating.

“What are you doing?” Akksul demanded, glaring at her, but he didn’t have time to react before the bot struck, coiling itself around him so fast it seemed as though one instant he was free, the next he was buried in darkly metallic coils that appeared far too supple compared to how resistant it was to bullets.

“Shit!” Ryder exclaimed, leaping from her cover to run to him, firing blindly into the room and ducking her head as best she could.

Akksul was gasping for air, struggling with all his strength but the bot kept coiling and tightening around him. There wasn’t a moment to lose; ignoring the risk to herself, she reached out a hand and tried to summon the same control that coursed through her when SAM manipulated RemTech, hoping enough of SAM’s connection was in her to pull it off. A fresh wave of agony washed through her and she felt something strain…

With a keening noise and a crash that made the floor vibrate the bot fell lifelessly to the floor and Akksul scrambled out, stepping away gingerly but without delay. Ryder sank to her knees, consumed by the molten fire in her veins and the sizzling, brittle ice of her bones, trembling like a leaf. Her breath was labored and spots danced before her eyes; she couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it. She mustered energy enough to raise her head and looked into the chamber, expecting to see five more of those monstrous snake things going straight for her along with a dozen smaller ones with their needles, but all she saw was the roiling mass converging on that one central spot. She was in plain sight of all of them but to her dizzying relief they completely ignored her.

“Something got their attention,” Ryder said weakly, then cleared her throat, forcing herself to get off her hands and knees. She only managed to sit back on her heels, but at least it was more dignified; moving too much made her nauseous and the last thing she needed was to embarrass herself by emptying her stomach.

“They’re reassembling that one,” Akksul said, nodding at the bot Ryder had disabled. He looked vaguely uncomfortable, but clearly he wasn’t about to thank her. “If my assumption is correct that bot was connected to the smaller ones in some way, only a few came at me after a while… now I know why.”

“Then I suggest we get out of here before they succeed,” Ryder said, glaring at him. She risked her life for the man and all he could do was coolly analyze the situation? “Now will you listen and not run around without a plan?” She wouldn’t say anything, but both of them knew she had the leverage of having saved his life and she didn’t hesitate to press her advantage.

“While you plan and coddle yourself the Moshae could be in danger,” Akksul snarled at her, “I will not sit around and let that happen!”

“Danger you put her in,” Ryder pointed out. I can’t do that again, she thought to herself, examining her handiwork before looking down at her shaking hands. Well, she hadn’t really expected Akksul to honor the unspoken bond of saving him; considering that, next time she was determined to just let him die, even if the thought of being trapped down here alone made her shiver.

“There is a way out of here and I will find it,” Akksul continued as if she hadn’t spoken, eyes roaming over the bots, the walls and finally the bot that had almost crushed him. “Since you are no help,” he ignored Ryder’s splutter of indignation, “I have to rely on my own knowledge of the Remnant.”

“You really are a piece of work,” Ryder muttered, trying to summon the strength to stand. She managed it, feeling a little stronger now that the nausea had subsided and her nerves felt less like live wires.

Akksul scowled, turned on his heel and walked away without another word.

Ryder grimaced. “Damn you, Akksul,” she said, but his footsteps were already fading. Gritting her teeth, she glanced one last time over her shoulder to make sure nothing was following them and tried to catch up to the insufferable man, clutching her stomach and taking deep, steady breaths.

Just as she reached the outer chamber she glimpsed him striding confidently down another corridor, weapon only casually held ready. Careful to step wide of the ferrofluid, she started after him, wondering if he had any idea where he was going or if he was just as lost as she was. She paused a moment and counted nine archways in total. All of them looked identical as far as she could tell; she dearly wished for SAM and his navigation right then, but she was beginning to suspect that she shouldn’t expect his return any time soon. Not knowing what else to do, she fired a bullet by the entrance to the corridor she had just emerged from to mark the spot. Finally she caught up to Akksul where he was cautiously creeping along the side of the wall, the silvery glow from the ferrofluid conduits behind him dappling his features with a surprising softness.

“What kind of idiot strategy is this?” Ryder demanded in a low hiss, joining him in his creep forward. “You’re just going to provoke every bot down here until we have a horde out to kill us?”

“I’m finding a way out and you’re not stopping me, human,” Akksul retorted, but he also kept his voice low.

“You realize that most Remnant structures that are underground like this one have one exit, right? That means your only way out of here is the gravity well!”

Akksul rounded on her. “Then why aren’t you there trying to make your AI work?”

She met his granite-gray glare with one of her own. “Because you ran off and got yourself pinned down in a firefight!”

“I do not require your help,” he said irritably, but not as forcefully as before. Not even he could deny the fact that he likely would be dead by now without her; then again, knowing him he probably could and did.

“Well remind me next time not to save you from being crushed alive so I can save my strength,” Ryder snapped, moving past him.

“Now who is rushing ahead?” Akksul asked and Ryder closed her eyes for a moment, gritting her teeth. “You talk about strategy yet you waste whatever power remains to you on killing Remnant bots instead of activating the well,” he added and this time Ryder rounded on him.

“Yes! And I wouldn’t have had to waste it if you had waited like I said you should!”

“And trust you?” Akksul narrowed his eyes. “If I hadn’t come here you would have wasted away there without lifting a finger! Like all your kind you wait for others to serve you and fix everything.”

“Who exactly do you think I’m waiting for?” Ryder asked angrily, confused.

“Your pet AI,” he replied.

“SAM is not my pet!” Ryder glared.

A distant booming sound made them both cut off and look behind them. They exchanged a puzzled look, but both averted their eyes when they realized it. Ryder moved ahead and Akksul followed silently. She suspected that like her, he was wondering if they had inadvertently triggered something by killing that monstrous bot; either way, it suddenly seemed very sensible to keep pressing on.

It didn’t take them long to reach another archway that lead into yet another chamber, except this one was much larger than any of the ones they had seen before. Cautiously entering and looking around, she thought even her ship could fit into it lengthwise, though maybe the circumference of the chamber wasn’t quite large enough. All around there were pillars rigidly arranged equidistant to each other, glowing with a faint blueish light she had never seen on a Remnant pillar before. In the center of the room there was some sort of dais that reminded her of the entrances to the vaults, but something about this place made her uneasy in a way that no vault ever had.

“I don’t see a gravity well controller here,” Ryder said softly. Not that it mattered; if she wasn’t strong enough to operate the first one, she certainly couldn’t have used another, especially after what she had done to that bot.

“Clearly this works differently,” Akksul said, moving past her.

“Wait! You don’t know what it does,” Ryder grabbed his arm, but he slipped through her fingers easily.

Before Akksul could reply, a rumble deep underground made the floor vibrate beneath their feet and the dais began to split open, a loud whirring building in power as the doors grew farther apart. Before either of them could react, what looked like a shimmering swarm emerged from below, a milling mass of sparking light that danced with amazing precision, drawing geometrical patterns in the air.

“I don’t like this,” Ryder said uneasily; as the words left her lips the swarm expanded to fill the entire room and like a storm of comets, they fell.

[pyreo]

Yesterday was my final session of computer tutoring with the worst student I’ve ever had

She was... incorrigible. In her 70s, long bleached hair. She would literally arrive 15 minutes late with Starbucks to the sessions, only it wasn’t Starbucks, it was Greggs coffee and a sausage roll.

In the first session she talked, uninterruptable, for a further 10 minutes about how her daughter was losing her home and she needed to contact solicitors. She then spent a further 10 minutes wandering off to take calls from said solicitors. 

All I ask students to do is a light mouse movement exercise - hand-eye coordination, double-clicking, clicking and dragging, etc. She got locked into a cycle of being sent several pages back for clicking the wrong numbers. When I asked her what the instructions said, she claimed she didn’t have time to read them because she had to hurry up and finish to get to an appointment after the class.

In the second session I ask students to copy out two sentences of text to practice using a keyboard. She was able to do this, but not without explaining to me that her daughter’s possessions had all been moved to storage that morning, that her son’s fiance wasn’t talking to him because he’d beaten her, in fact he’d beaten herself too, in the past, but he’d been doing really well recently and had been out of prison for a year - nothing could stop her from typing two letters and pausing again to explain to me how the government was refusing to help her family and provide them proper housing

The third session is showing people what they can find online and how to access the internet. I tried to explain how to install broadband at home but was talked over every sentence, and also she called wifi “wi-fire”. Showing her how to look up online news was a mistake. Instantly distracted by current affairs she ignored me completely and ran commentary on everything on the screen - she was emphatic that “Trisha May” needed to be a strong leader “like old Maddie was”, and that “Trisha” had been forced into a difficult position “between Thump and Brenpit”.

I had to take a moment to flinch because I was recovering from another eye issue and apologised. She insisted that I come to her church, because she was an evangelical born-again christian (looking for a good, christian man), and that if I did they could heal me. She’s seen real, honest healings done there, she said. I politely declined. She then complained that something needed to be done about “ISIT”, which I questioned in confusion, and she explained by doing the ‘finger across neck dead’ motion. She didn’t trust any Muslims, she explained, and how could she? She’d seen a nearby mosque which displayed words for peace and against hatred, and proclaimed it untrustworthy. “They all think people hate them!” she said. “Why do they act like everyone hates them if it’s not from the ISIT people killing everyone?”

She finished that day by pointing to a Brexit article and explaining, with some distress, that we needed to distance ourselves from the EU because there were activist groups there dedicated to bringing back “hannins”. “what?” “hannins! we can’t stand for it, because you know, they got the wrong person sometimes, they hanned innocent people!” “Hangings?” “people over there!” I tried to very seriously, genuinely, slowly, say “Look. Nobody, nobody anywhere, is actually going to bring back hanging.” She remained convinced.

Week four. The final lesson (yesterday). Having learned to be pushy if I wanted to get anything done, I opened gmail to try and log in to her long-lost account and by an ACTUAL MIRACLE we succeeded the account recovery. Only after doing a mobile-text check, which she didn’t understand and kept instead pointing at the screen and the ‘Done’ button before I had put in anything in the required fields, chuckling as if I were a moron for not noticing it. She had hundreds of emails from a dating website from “christian connection”. She felt it necessary to explain to me, several dozen times, why she needed to keep them.

Imagine the words “Christian Connection is for me to meet a good, born-again Christian man. Because I need to meet a good, Christian man, they’re going to help me - (points as if I don’t quite follow this) - Christian Connection” over and over for an hour, and that’s about the size of it, except the word ‘connection’ was pronounced slightly wrong each time.

Further down there were about 200 older emails from Facebook which I cleaned up. On seeing these she started ranting about how Facebook sent her dating messages from - WOMEN - as if this was the most amusingly ridiculous thing that could possibly happen

I heard about her dating events, how she didn’t have to pay the membership fee to Christian Connection yet, but she would as it was only £50 a month. “Wait, what?” I interjected, “you’re actually going to spend £50 a month on this?” I was then told, with rolled eyes, that doing this was actually SAVING money, because the alternative was to sign up on “First Friends” and they would charge £400 or more for membership, so clearly the first option was saving her money. While gobsmacked at the very idea of wasting that much money she continued to explain - as if to a slow learner - that she knew God had told her to join “Friends First” or “First Friends” (not sure which was correct), because one time, while praying, she had looked up and seen a wedding limosine outside! Then, another time, while finding her future wedding dress (can I repeat: while looking into getting a wedding dress) the phone rang and as if by grand design, it was Tim from “Friends First”, asking if she was ready to send through her first payment to start membership, and if that wasn’t a clear sign from God, she didn’t know what was.

Time for our session was up by that point so I just replied quite bluntly “Those things just happened. You’re connecting them in ways you just made up”, but no. It was God’s will, and she as a born-again Christian would follow his advice to spend as much money as it took to get her a Good Christian Husband. (We don’t allow dating websites or some kinds of payments on the public computers in our library though, which annoyed her and she demanded to know how she could pay by phone somehow.)

I got out. Said the goodbyes and lacklustre thank yous and all that. She thanked me too and said “goodbye Claire”, which is not my name.

It’s not that I don’t get paid enough for this, I’m just volunteering to help the elderly an hour a week, I don’t get paid at all