#i’m gonna enter that theatre with blood on my face and leave a new man

[send-me-a-puffalope]

spreading the girlfailure Vanessa Afton agenda !!!!!! i need her to be at rock bottom !!!!! i need her disheveled and rebuilding her whole sense of self !!!!!

[all-about-seggs]

A Fine Specimen-

Rating : 18+, Mature, Yandere-verse

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x female reader.

Word count : 2.3k

Warning's : Dark themes, Yandere behaviour, non-con, drugging, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, vaginal sex.

The lights on the low run down ceiling kept flickering, as you try your best to pull yourself out of your trance. The room was dark except for the surgical lights pointed straight on your figure, it seemed like an abandoned operation theatre, or atleast it should be, considering its dingy state. Every effort of looking around and trying to make sense of your current predicament has been futile, even staying level headed in this strange place was a constant struggle.

Your entire body felt heavy despite the fact that you didn’t even had a thread of clothing on you, the cold air of the room hitting you body made another alarm go off in your head. You’d think you were strapped to the cold hard examination table but it was simply the numbness of your limbs that prevented you from moving. Panic started to flood through your system as you racked your brain for any possible reasoning, as to why you were being treated like a test subject. Sure you lived in a society filled with supernatural beings but you were nothing if not normal.

The gradually increasing sound of footsteps pulled you out of your reverie but judging by the situation your in, it most likely wasn’t a good thing. Soon the person who enters, will see you at your most vulnerable, half conscious and naked state, it was humiliating but you had to pull yourself together if you wanted to survive.

Your sleep laden eyes were the only part that you could move but the light shining above you made it quite straining to focus so you stayed still.

A shadow casted itself upon you indicating the person who entered was tall, probably a male and stronger too. In your current state he made you feel like a rag doll as he stared at your form. You’d describe him as a hunter sizing up his prey if you could see his eyes, which were covered by a blindfold. But that wasn’t the only thing peculiar about him, his hair was as white as snow, the lights above you giving him an otherworldly glow when he leaned on you. His pink lips that looked so smooth, shined with the slightest movement. His beautiful features screamed perfect not creep.

“Hellooo~ Y/n chan, are you awake?…..”, He asked in a sing song voice and a smile on his lips that contrasted with the sombre atmosphere of the room.

So he knew your name? It’s not surprising if he was the one who brought you here, but it was the first time you met this person and he had enough quirks that anyone would remember even without having to converse with him. You were barely managing to keep your eyes half open and speaking seemed far too big of a struggle, your body wasn’t listing to you since the moment you woke up so all you could do was wait for him to explain himself, if he’s even planning to.

A few seconds passed in silence before the white haired man continued, “You probably don’t remember but you were attacked. By a curse, I mean.”

His tone held no compassion as his cheery voice continued, “ You were hurt pretty badly and almost got swallowed, but I made it in time so it’s all right now. You need to get examined for any signs of trauma or any other serious injuries, it’s just that your doctor is running a bit late so I decided to take over”, his face drew closer as he practically breathed on your lips, the warmth radiating from his body almost giving you a false sense of relief that was short lived when you felt his hand cup your breast.

“ You don’t mind right?, I’ll make sure to throughly check each.and.every.detail”, he cooed against your ear giving your cold breast a soft squeeze the stranger left feather light kisses up your neck. You may not be a medical expert but even you knew no medical examinations include foreplay. Your body was still as stiff as a rock and even if you were injured it seemed unusual for you to lose the entire control of your limbs and voice, so you put all your strength into pulling out a broken scream from your clogged throat. It was a futile effort but you couldn’t just let yourself be fondled by some stranger who clearly didn’t looked or acted sound of mind.

“ What’s wrong y/n? Didn’t that felt good?”, There was obvious confusion in his tone, as if he doesn’t realise he doesn’t have your consent but as outrageous as it seemed to you his touch felt good, comforting even. His touch was the only thing that gave you warmth since you regained consciousness and maybe it’s your dazed state or the fact that you’ve been lying on this hard surface or its in his superficial beauty that was making your body feel at ease instead of tensing up.

The murky room that previously made you shiver, now felt warm with a sweet scent in the air, “ Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you~”, he whispered softly in your ear, moving your breasts tenderly so as to not cause you any pain, and then lightly he rolled your perked up nipple between his fingers, delighting at the sight of your face twisting up in pleasure you can’t refuse.

He tilted your chin upwards to gain more access to your throat and started sucking a trail of red marks from your jaw to the valley between your breasts, they felt tingly and soft at first, his kisses lighting you’re numb body on fire, a feeling that was undeniably delightful albeit forceful.

“ Not gonna put on a fight now sweetheart? What a good girl you are!”, His voice took a maniacal pitch, but his smile appeared to be of genuine nature as if he really did wanted to take care of you.

“ Let’s get serious now shall we?”, Saying that he moved towards your legs, he bent over your naked pussy and parted your thighs as much as your currently stiff body allowed. It was clear to him that you wanted to protest, wanted to hide yourself and run away but your slightly parted lips that couldnt make out any screams of pain or pleasure, those half lidded eyes which were struggling to focus on what was happening to the rest of your body, it was all part of what made your current violator’s desire surge through his blood .

His hand that parted your legs gave the inner part of your thighs a gentle pinch, as he kept on stroking the soft flesh. Moving his left hand inbetween them he reached for your glistening nether lips beneath curls of pubic hair, with two of his long thick fingers he pried them open. Licking his lips like he was about to devour a delicious meal he brought his face closer to your sex until his tongue made contact with your clit. He took the tiny nodule in his mouth and gave it a hard suck making you shiver and with that, every ounce of fight left in you died as you started to surrender yourself to his touch that promised the kind of tantalizing euphoria you’ve never imagine possible.

Your body was beginning to heat up to the point of burning as your senses started catching up to the white haired guy’s mouth which relentlessly worked your clit back and forth. Slipping two fingers of his right hand in your tight cunt, he made more of your white hot cum flow out, your face was the picture of bliss as he kept on licking your slick covered pussy. He shoved his fingers inside you harder and faster until you began tightening around him, your pussy started convulsing when that coil of pleasure unwinding in the pit of your stomach reached its peak. With a slight squeeze of his digits you came on his face, just like he wanted you to.

He smiled while watching you come down from your high, the mess your quivering body made was a beautiful sight for him and he wanted to savour every second of it. You though the fire that he kindled inside you would calm down after you came but your body kept on shaking even when your orgasm had ended. It was like your body was not yours anymore, like it didn’t belong to you but the guy who was in front of you. It was only when he was touching you that made your senses come back to yourself and as soon as he drew away you were left unable to control even a single limb of yours.

“ I’m glad to see it was enjoyable for you my sweetness, although I couldn’t swallow all it, I think i was able to get a good enough taste of you”, he spoke in a low baritone. “ I really wanted to hear your cute voice crying out for me but I suppose I went overboard with your medications, so I guess that won’t be happening”, his tone lacked regret but atleast now you knew why your body was acting funny and how this person was insane if he thinks drugging you is giving medication, despite your reasoning all rationality had already left your brain, only leaving you with an unquenchable thirst for his touch.

From the corner of your eye you could see him swiftly unzipping his pants to take out his hard member. He mounted on you still palming his hard on and it only now dawned on you just how huge he was, his body completely enveloped yours making you feel small as he planted one hand beside your head. He leaned down to kiss your parted lips, slipping his tongue inside, you could taste the remnants of your cum on it when he licked the roof of your mouth. His kiss was so hard it almost felt like he was sucking the life out of you not stopping until your consciousness started to waver again.

“ Haaaa… Sorry, I got carried away, breath for me cupcake, Its no good if I have to hump your unconscious body.”, With that he placed his right hand on the back of your knee and pushed it all the way up to your chest, this new position giving him more access to your still swollen and trembling cunt.

In one smooth motion he was buried deep in you, the slick from your last orgasm gave him enough lubrication that he started moving immediately. His pace was fast, but not violently so. It was the right amount of deep and long as he pulled himself out until only his tip remain inside of you before pushed it in again. He watched your reactions intently as he maintained his steady pace, though mildly, you were still able to contort your face like anyone who is being fucked so good. Soon you felt your second orgasm approach and he speed up his own actions to chase his high as well.

“ Gojo…..Satoru…..”, He said inbetween his rhythmic thrusts, “ that’s my name, so let me make you….. remember …it…..”, With a few more hard thrusts a familiar pleasure washed over you. Your pussy clenched around his cock making him follow you soon after.

Panting heavily, he leaned down to rest his forehead against the crook of your neck, beads of sweat trickling down his face as he calmed himself down. He didn’t pull himself out until both of your heavy breaths became steady, still looming over you. Raising his head he licked your lips, and with a low growl against your mouth he put one of his hand on your throat, wrapping itself around it completely, his actions sent a shiver up your spine. He started putting pressure on only some very particular spots, causing your eyes to roll back, making the already delicate state of consciousness to fade. But before you felt yourself getting knocked out you heard him speak again.

“Next time…… I’ll make you say it”, he said calmly as the man named Satoru withdrew his hands from your neck.

[anotheronechicagobog]

The Crackship Sails to Molly’s

Sylvie Brett x Jay Halstead

1

written by @anotheronechicagobog​

Warnings: swearing, implied smut, Daswon sibling bashing, background manstead

A/N: Please comment :)

Jay was on the floor, in pain. The area around his socket was throbbing in pain, and his lower back was definitely going to have a bruise. He didn’t have time to react before Antonio was back and punching him in the face again. “Oh my god, Antonio stop it!”

He wasn’t fighting it, he just didn’t have it in him to try and stop the man he called his friend, though Jay supposed they wouldn’t be friends much longer. 

Antonio had managed to get in a few more punches before he was hauled off of Jay by Voight and half of the members of 51. Jay exhaled and went to close his eyes, but was interrupted by her entering his line of vision.

Sylvie.

Her mouth was moving, and Jay could vaguely hear her speaking over the shouting men and women. “Sylvie? Are you okay?”

“Me- What? Jay, I’m not the one who just got mauled by Antonio.”

“So you’re okay?”

“Alright get up, I’m taking you to med now. No arguments.”

“Okay.”

“Oh pickles, you’re actually agreeing to go to the hospital, something must be really wrong with you.”

“As long as you’re okay.” His voice was so hoarse he almost didn’t recognize it. Sylvie sighed as he looked at her dazedly while she buckled him up in her car. “I’m okay, I promise. I just have to make sure that you’re okay too.”

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SIX MONTHS AGO

It had been months since Erin left, and months since Sylvie had to dump Antonio because of his ex-wife. Jay and Sylvie ended up at a table together, neither one was feeling particularly happy at the moment and didn’t want to be around their romantically successful friends. So they sat together, nursed their drinks, and talked about Harry Potter. They’d bumbled around in discussion for a while, not having a whole lot in common, before finding out they were both Harry Potter fans. Will, the rest of the intelligence unit, and 51 weren’t big fans of the book series, sure they’d seen the movies but that was about it. They both found it relaxing to just talk about something that wasn’t about their important work or love. 

They started to spend more and more time together. It started because Sylvie mentioned how she hadn’t grown up in Chicago and was so busy she never got to see the sights, so Jay took it as a challenge and started showing her his favourite parts of the city. Restaurants, theatres, parks, museums, galleries, all of it. He even took her to a restaurant in Canaryville where everyone who worked there had known him his whole life. Sylvie was enthusiastically told stories from Jay’s childhood. Hiding behind curtains buck naked, exposing everyone on the street to his six-year-old butt while he and Will shook in giggles. Block-wide water gun fights. Years of ding dong ditch. Sylvie was in stitches before she even got her food.

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THREE MONTHS AGO

There was a fire. A bad one. And after receiving a patient on a gurney, something in the basement exploded, Sylvie and the patient were thrown several metres away. No one else had been injured, but Sylvie wouldn’t wake up, was bleeding profusely out of a cut on her head, and she had shrapnel in her back. It didn’t look good.

“Alright everyone, gear up. 51 just responded to a fire at a suspected meth lab, it was confirmed five minutes ago by an explosion. A paramedic, Sylvie Brett, was critically injured and is currently fighting for her- Halstead? Halstead where do you think you’re going? Halstead get back here!” At the words ‘Sylvie Brett’ Jay’s blood ran cold. At ‘critically injured’ he went into autopilot. Just stood up and left. Didn’t even grab his jacket. He ignored his boss’s enraged screams. He just got in his truck and drove to Med.

He ignored the odd looks he got from those at 51. He ignored his coworkers and boss when they came by to talk to their witnesses/ask him what the actual fuck was going on. He ignored his brother and sister-in-law when they asked him why he was there. He just stayed sitting in the uncomfortable chair for hours, watching nurses and patients flitter between the doors to the ED. It had been six hours when Platt came by to yell at him too only to be interrupted by Dr. Rhodes. “Sylvie is awake and stable, I expect her to make a full recovery. We can only allow one visitor at a time, and she has been asking for Jay since she woke up, she’s pretty frantic, so you’ll have to come quick.” He stood up and almost ran past Rhodes into her room, ignoring the confused looks from everyone at firehouse 51 and Trudy Platt.

“Jay, Jay, Jay, Jay, Jay-”

“I’m here Syl, I am right here.” She sobbed as he wrapped her hands in his. “I am right here, and it’ll take an army to get me to move. Or you, but that’s basically the same thing if someone denies you chocolate.” The laugh that briefly interrupted her sobs made his day, releasing the tension he’d been holding all day. Jay sagged in relief, and just held one of her hands as he used the other to gently hug her, hold her as she cried, sobbed, hiccuped and, whimpered from the physical pain expressing her emotions was causing her. “I thought I- w- was goi-i-ing to-o die-e.”

“I know,” he choked, “I thought you were going to die too.”

Jay had refused to leave the hospital until Sylvie ordered him to. “At least shower and change, ooh, get something to eat too.”

“You just want me to bring you mac and cheese don’t you?”

“You know me so well.”

“Alright, I’ll be back in an hour, don’t watch ‘Say Yes to the Dress’ without me.”

“You will take at least three hours to come back here.”

“Sylvie-”

“You have been sitting and worrying for the past three days, take some time for yourself. Don’t make me get Maggie involved.”

“Okay, fine, I will be back in three hours. Can you still wait to watch ‘Say Yes to the Dress’ with me?”

“Duh.”

“Okay, see you later.” He kissed her on the side of her forehead that wasn’t bandaged, and left, starting an alarm on his phone for three hours. He would be back on the dot.

The second he got to the lobby, however, he was met with all of firehouse 51 and the 21st district standing up, expecting news from him. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have orders to shower and change from Syl. Apparently I smell.” Trying to use his charm to get out of a situation he didn’t feel like explaining. But, he knew everyone glaring at him well enough to know that they needed some kind of answer. “Sylvie has become a very important friend to me, that day was one of the worst I’ve had in a long time.” Fewer glares, more confusion, and a free Jay Halstead.

He returned to his favourite person on the planet exactly three hours later with two containers filled to the brim with homemade macaroni and cheese, his laptop, and a box set of the Harry Potter books. “You, are an absolute angel, Jay Halstead.”

“No more than you, Sylvie Brett. Here is your food.”

“Oh, it’s still warm. Okay, time for bridal drama and lots of carbs!”

Sylvie was still in the hospital with Jay at her side as much as possible for another week. When she was given the all-clear to leave, no one seemed satisfied with the answer that Jay was taking her home. “Gabby I’ll be fine! Jay is one of my best friends, okay? He’s gonna drive me home, insist he stay longer than he needs to, before eventually leaving me with Otis and Cruz.”

“Okay, seriously, when exactly did you become friends with Jay Halstead? And are you sure that’s all you are?”

“Three months ago, and yes, I am sure that we’re friends. I am gonna hang up now, because I really do not appreciate the third degree.”

“Oh, come on Sylvie, I’m just looking out for you and Antonio, I just want to make sure Jay’s not moving in on you guys.”

“Gabby, there is no me and Antonio. And there hasn’t been for a while. He was great, Eva and Diego were great, it was fun, but he in no way protected or prepared me for Laura. He kept from me how erratic and impulsive and rude her behaviour was. He told me that she knew about me and was fine with cause she’d dating a few guys since the divorce. But it turned out a lot of that wasn’t true. He lied to me, leaving me to fend for myself when she came barreling in on a warpath, and then yelled at me for reacting in a scared and shocked way. He was actually the one who suggested we break up. Whether he likes it or not, she is still a significant part of his and his children’s lives, as well as a significant hindrance. And please, don’t act like we’re getting back together. I loved him, but I’m done with him.” And she slammed her finger on the touch screen much harder than she needed to. “Gabby again?”

“Yes, I love her, and I know she means well, but she doesn’t know everything.”

“And she has a lot of audacity trying to tell you she does. It’ll be okay, I think that everyone is just really stressed out and confused. I think that if we just tell everyone that we bonded over Harry Potter they’ll understand and leave us alone pretty quick.”

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ONE MONTH AGO

Intelligence had set up a meet with a coke dealer to arrest him and get some intel. The buy wasn’t until 1 am and they didn’t have to start gathering equipment and double-checking everything for another three hours, so everyone was just going to eat and try to relax until then. But then Jay’s phone rang. Luna appeared on his screen with a picture of Sylvie staring at a tank of baby jellyfish with complete and utter fascination. “Hey Syl-”

“I need your help.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I know you’re working tonight, but- oh I probably shouldn’t have called-”

“Sylvie, what’s wrong?”

“The blind date I’m on right now? I- he was fine at first but I’m scared. There are red flags everywhere and I’m afraid I’ll end up in a ditch.”

“Marco’s Bistro, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, you’re hiding in the bathroom, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good, stay there until I get there.”

“Of course.”

He nodded at Voight and ignored a livid Antonio. When he got to the restaurant, he told the hostess he was here to rescue his friend from a dangerous date and she didn’t even blink. “She’s still in the bathroom but you might wanna deal with her date after, he’s getting agitated.”

“Green dress shirt by the painting of the heron?”

“Yup.”

“Got it, thanks.”

“Hey,” he knocked on the door, “Sylvie I’m here.”

She exited and before he could even make eye contact with her she wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug, despite her shaking body. “I am so scared. He picked me up, saying that I couldn’t refuse him, he knows where I live.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” 

 Jay watched her until he could see her in safe his truck before he approached the man, and he knew that Sylvie had every right to be worried. Sharp eyes, nasty temper, tan line on his ring finger, and he looked one second away from just grabbing the next person and caving in their skull. “Excuse me-”

“And just who the fuck are you pal? I’m here on a date so leave before I kick your ass.” Jay pulled his badge out from underneath the collar of his shirt and sat down across from him. “Give me your driver’s licence, please.” The douche (as Jay would call him for the rest of his life) handed it over pretty damn quick, he waved the waitress over. “This man is going to need his bill immediately, please.” She nodded quickly and darted off, then Jay pulled out his phone. “Hey Burgess, I need you to run a name for me. Arthur Garrett. Two t’s. Okay, thanks. Can you send down a couple of officers for me?” He waited until the bill was paid and backup arrived before speaking again. “Mr. Garrett, stand up and turn around. You are under arrest for failure to pay child support and failure to attend court. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.” After the handoff, he saw his least favourite thing in the entire world. Sylvie crying.

“He had an arrest warrant out, he’s being taken to detainment now. I’m sorry this happened to you Syl, you don’t deserve it.”

“I just feel so stupid.”

“Well don’t, you weren’t even the one who set up the date. Can I ask you a favour though? Let me do a check on everyone you go on a date with, please. I’ll worry a lot less.”

“After tonight? You have a deal.”

“Oh thank God, I was worried I’d have to try and convince you.” He leaned over the console to kiss her cheek, he looked into her expressive eyes and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ears. Neither of them realized how close their faces were until Jay went to speak and their lips brushed together, in a feather-light touch. “We, uh, we were going to order a bunch of pizzas for dinner. It doesn’t look like you got to eat, would you like to join us?”

“That sounds great.”

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THREE WEEKS AGO

Sylvie had gone back to Fowlerton to spend the holidays with her parents and brother, and Jay stayed in Chicago to celebrate with his brother’s family. Will was in the kitchen with Helen, he and a very pregnant Natalie were watching the looney tunes version of ‘A Christmas Carol’ in the living room with Owen. It wasn’t until Jay thought, about ten minutes into the movie, that Sylvie would love to watch this and he’d have to add this to their movie marathon lost for when she got back that he realized just how much he missed her. Her demeanour, her personality, the way she made him feel warm and fuzzy without much effort. And then he had another, much more startling realization. “I’m in love with Sylvie.” Beside him, Natalie snorted and Helen called from the kitchen “congrats on being literally the last person to know.”

“What? How did my brother’s mother-in-law-in-law know before I did?”

“She follows you on Facebook, remember? Basically everything you post is Sylvie, about Sylvie, or Sylvie related. And vice versa, I see the way she looks at you, she’s into you too.”

“It’s only been a few months, how am I in this deep?” Jay completely ignored his brother’s observation, he could barely register his feelings, he didn’t want to get his hopes up about hers.

“Take it from me, Jay, when the right person shows up it doesn’t matter how long you’ve known them or had a bond with them. If it feels good, go with it. It will only cause you pain to move away from it.”

“I don’t know if either of us are ready for that. The timings just not right.”

Nat covered Owen’s ears, “timing is a bitch.” She released a confused Owen who immediately zoned out looking at the tv again with a kiss on his tiny head, “if you don’t think that you’re ready, that’s fine. But don’t put anything down for timing or the universe, they’ll just mess you up.”

“Yeah... I’ll think about it.”

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ONE WEEK AGO

Sylvie had been all set to go camping with Gabby and Stella, she’d been so excited and Jay had spent the last three days with her helping her pack and hanging on to her every word. Watching flit around in a flurry of excitement for a girls week. He was sitting on her bed rolling up her light blue sleeping bag with white polka dots when she got a call from Gabby and her face fell. Lines and bumps moved their way on to her face which was carefree and bright only seconds ago. “Okay, Gabby. I hope you and Matt and Stella and Kelly have fun.”

“She cancelled the trip? Or cancelled you out of the trip?”

”She decided to make it couples only. She also took the opportunity to tell me that Antonio’s single again.”

“You know what? You are not going to be sad. Because you have a week off of work, and so do I because we worked too much OT the past two months. Let’s go to Universal studios, I hear they expanded Harry Potter world.”

She smiled again. Bright and beaming and in a way that was just so, so her. “I’ll look at flights.”

Thanks to a bunch of last-minute deals, coupons, and first responder discounts they were on a plane bound for Florida in three hours. And when they got there, they went into prep mode for the next day, making sure that everything was ready to get up and go to the park, and they were so busy that neither of them noticed that there was only one bed until they were both drifting off to sleep, centimetres apart.

Waking up entangled in each other hadn’t been as awkward as either of them thought it would be. It was nice, warm. And it only got better as the week went on. They spent three days at Universal Studios, three at Universal Island Adventure, and one at Disney. Taking as much time as they could at each place. They went on every ride they could, multiple times, enjoyed all the themed food, took far more pictures than they had ever taken in their entire lives, and waited until the last day to buy any souvenirs because of how expensive everything was. They even held hands every day, Jay’s reasoning was so that Sylvie wouldn’t get separated from him but because of the time of year the population of the park was sparse compared to what it could have been. Sylvie knew this, knew that she didn’t have to hold his hand, but she wanted to. Badly. She didn’t care if it was only for while they were in Florida, she could pretend while they were there that they were more than friends. Because once they went home, she had to pretend that she didn’t love him with all her heart. But honestly, they had the time of their lives. Fun, food, and unresolved romantic tension. What could be better? It was their last day in Florida, their rental car was already loaded up with their stuff and after the fireworks display at Disney they were headed back to Chicago. 

Sylvie’s hair was mussed from the long day, and while she looked tired, she couldn’t take her eyes off of the display. And Jay couldn’t take his eyes off Sylvie. The multi-coloured lights were reflected in her eyes and the wind was blowing her hair gently. Sylvie could feel him staring at her and when she turned to ask him was what wrong, she stopped, her words dying in her throat. Jay’s entire soul was playing through his eyes. It was as if there was a tether connecting the two of them. Neither of them could turn away or blink. And Jay just went for it. He leaned down and kissed her with all the emotion his body possessed. The kiss making Sylvie feel weak in her knees. She wrapped her arms around his neck in part to stabilize himself, and in part to pull him closer. They’d missed the rest of the display just holding each other, but neither of them could bring themselves to care.

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PRESENT DAY

Dr. Choi had been assigned to Jay. He raised an eyebrow at Sylvie seated on the bed beside him but made no comment, paying heed to the words of wisdom Maggie had just bestowed upon him, “she’s the only reason he’ll behave and accept treatment.”

“Alright, while I’m happy you’re not here with a bullet wound detective Halstead, coming back after a fight wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said ‘avoid lead’.”

“And deprive you of my charming personality?”

“Yeah, yeah. Now follow my finger, let’s hope you don’t have a concussion.”

It had only taken about twenty minutes to determine that Jay, miraculously, didn’t have a concussion or any broken bones. Just a lot of swelling and bruises. “Thanks, Choi.”

“No problem, while you are discharged and free to go, you can’t travel yourself, I’m actually you can see with how swollen the areas around your eyes are.”

“That’s no problem, I’ll drive him home.”

“Alright, good. Remember Jay, desk duty for a week.”

“Ugh, I’m already bored.”

“I’m sure you are, now let’s go. I want to leave before a Dawson comes barreling in here, cause I might start swinging punches too.”

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The next week Jay avoided Antonio, not intentionally though. After hearing what happened Voight decided to keep Halstead in the basement as much as possible for his desk duty. While it was boring and agitating not being in the field, Sylvie made sure to send him as many hilarious snapchats as possible, many of which consisted of her hiding in ridiculous places to avoid Gabby. The photo that had offended the Dawsons so greatly sat framed on his temporary desk. Apparently, the people behind them at the fireworks display their last day there thought they were so cute that they took a couple of pics during and after their kiss, but the new couple had left before they could be asked for contact info for the pictures. Luckily, they’d overheard them before the fireworks display talking about how while they were sad to go back to Chicago that night, the fire and police departments desperately needed them to keep their partners in line. It had been an amusing joke to Sylvie and Jay, but a way to post the photos for the people behind them. The Dawsons were already pissed that Jay was ‘moving in on Antonio’s girl’, but when they saw the photos on Facebook, with that mother posting the, admittedly gorgeous, pictures with the tags for CPD and CFD, looking for them so that the ‘adorable couple’ could have pictures from their first kiss, they were both livid. Gabby unleashing all of her fury, most of which was for unrelated things, on Sylvie at Molly’s, while Antonio just started punching.

It all came to a head when Jay was picking up Sylvie from her shift after he had finally been cleared to drive and go back to work. “Hey, you.”

“Hello, gorgeous.” Their quick peck was stopped by Gabby darting in between them and physically pushing them apart.”How can the two of you do this to Antonio? He still loves you Sylvie, even after all this, how can you-”

“Okay, you know what Gabby? You need to shut the fuck up.”

“Brett-”

“Uh-uh. I am talking now. Antonio screwed up. He lost his chance with me. So not only do you need to stop trying to meddle in my love life, but you need to stop feeling entitled to it. You have no say in who I do or do not date. End of discussion. No, ifs, ands, or buts. I am honestly at my wit’s end with you. I don’t even consider you a friend anymore because of how poorly you’ve been treating me.”

“Bu-”

“And don’t pull any more of that ‘but you dated my brother’ crap. I only did so at your encouragement. And I seriously regret dating him because of how much trouble you two are causing for me now because I choose to have a life and not let the end of my relationship with Antonio be the end of me. You need to leave me alone. I’ve already reported you to HR. I had no other choice after you locked me in the ambo for hours today without my phone or radio and wouldn’t let me out unless I got back with your brother. Goodbye Dawson. I’ll see you next shift.”

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

THREE MONTHS LATER

Sylvie and Gabby were finally back on speaking terms, but took them a while to get there. Natalie and Hailey had become her best friends. They both understood how awful it was for someone to feel entitled to your love life, and how much gossipy coworkers who were closer than peas in a pod knew how to affect you more than anyone else. 51 had originally been avoiding taking sides, something that Sylvie was grateful for, and she made sure they knew she’d never ask them to choose. Everything, barring their relationships with Antonio and Gabby, went back to normal. Stella was asking for details about Jay, Cruz, Otis, Hermann, and Boden cornered him at Molly’s one night and threatened him, Upton told Sylvie plainly that she wasn’t allowed to hurt Jay, and the two made each other their emergency contacts. Jay also made stops by the firehouse with doughnuts from the place just around the corner from the 21st district. Sylvie, a secretly amazing cook, also dropped by the station with homemade food for the unit and Trudy on long nights.

Molly’s, in a bid to get more customers, started having trivia nights. Sylvie and Jay were practically vibrating in excitement because the trivia night that night was for Harry Potter.

“What did Draco steal from Neville during flying lessons in the first movie?”

“A remembrall!”

“What was the name of Hermione’s cat?”

“Crookshanks!”

“What was the device Hermione used to go back in time during the third movie?”

“A time turner!”

“Okay, and the winning pair is... Sylvie Brett and Jay Halstead! And can I just say that even though I work at 51 and not at the 21st district, I feel like I should have known that detective I-am-a-badass-army-ranger-and-can-kill-you-twelve-different-ways-with-a-pencil-eraser Halstead was such a nerd!” There was a roar of laughter from everyone including Jay. “Laugh all you want, being a nerd is how I got my amazing girlfriend.”

“Damn right it is.” A celebratory kiss was met with cheers from the tipsy group. “Alright, alright, stop making out with my honourary sister and come get your gift card to the aquarium.”

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

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

Jay was trying to be sensitive to Antonio, really, he was. He put his photos of Sylvie in his locker, not on his desk, he took calls from her in another room. He didn’t talk about her with anyone from the unit. Sylvie was like an entity of golden light, anyone would be a fool to mistreat her or let her go, and Jay knew that both of the Dawson siblings were beating themselves up over their mistakes. But now Jay was pissed. Did he really think that Jay was so stupid he wouldn’t spot him at the table three rows down from them? That he wouldn’t make sure to take a closer look at the man sitting alone in a restaurant designed for dates, wearing all black, with a baseball cap and shades? And that was seriously the worst disguise, too. He could see numerous other couples and the staff take notice of him and they all looked concerned. Hell, even Sylvie noticed him the second he walked in! So they had decided in a little bit of revenge. They normally wouldn’t display PDA above hand-holding or a quick kiss, but tonight they’d made an exception. They were going all out, even choosing to sit on the same side so not only did Antonio have a clear view of both of them, but Jay would lean down and nibble on Sylvie’s neck, Sylvie would lean close to his ear and whisper in his ear, far, far too much physical contact. Oh, and kisses with tongue, can’t forget those when trying to make someone immensely uncomfortable.

They kept it up all throughout dinner and dessert. At some point in between appetizers and receiving the dessert menu, the PDA stopped being an act. They started riling each other up, enjoying what they were doing to each other. They finished dessert incredibly aroused, and paid the bill as quickly as possible. Jay was vaguely aware of Antonio following them but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

They made it to Jay’s apartment in record time and started ripping off each other’s clothes the second the door was locked. Jay lofted Sylvie up and carried her into his bedroom with Sylvie distracting him, kissing and biting his neck. Once they made it there everything happened slow and steamy, with Sylvie screaming Jay’s name multiple times, Jay purring and growling in her ear. They were vaguely aware of someone pounding on the apartment door, whoever it was (Antonio) had been doing so since Jay and Sylvie locked the door. But they didn’t care. They only focused on each other. They let him knock.

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

*Brring, brring*

“Mhm, Halstead.”

“Halstead, we caught a case in Humble Park. Meet Upton there.”

“Sure thing Voight.” He hung up and stared at Sylvie for a moment, taking in her soft skin, mussed hair, and even breathing. He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, Sylvie Brett.”

“Mmm, I love you more, Jay Halstead.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Your phone did. You want me to make you some breakfast while you get in the shower?”

“That would be great.” He kissed her, revelling in the feeling of his naked body against hers first thing in the morning.

Jay walked onto the scene with a spring in his step, homemade breakfast in his stomach, and a reusable take-out cup filled with amazing coffee. “You’re looking happy Halstead. How’s Sylvie?”

“She’s great. She made these egg muffins, they’re really good, she sent a few in a container for you if you want them.”

“I absolutely want them. Sylvie is so sweet.”

“She really is.”

“You are so smitten.”

“I am, I uh, I’m actually thinking about proposing.”

“Oh my god, that’s huge!”

“Do you think she’d say yes?”

“Oh, she definitely would.”

“I haven’t had a chance to talk to Nat yet, but would you come with me to help pick out a ring?”

“You got it.”

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

Jay was beyond nervous, but he was ready. He was ready for Sylvie to be his fiance, then his wife, then the mother of his children. Sylvie was just getting dressed and then they were heading to the park for an Irish festival, which would end in green fireworks. “Hey!” Sylvie jumped out from their bedroom in a deep green knee-length dress. “What do you think?”

“You look absolutely gorgeous. Seriously, I have absolutely no idea how I got lucky enough to date you.”

Later, just before the fireworks were about to begin, after they’d spent the whole day dancing and eating, Jay led Sylvie to a spot on a hill that two officers had been guarding for him, courtesy of Trudy. “This is an amazing spot, Jay. What did you have to bribe Trudy with to keep it?”

“Permission to take pictures and a speech if you say yes.”

“Yes to what- oh my god.”

“Sylvie Brett. You are the light of my life, I have never been this happy before and it’s all because of you. I love you so much and I want you to be my everything for the rest of our lives. So please, Sylvie, will you marry me?”

“Yes, of course, YES!” Jay slid the ring Natalie and Hailey had help him choose onto her finger, then he jumped up, wrapped her in his arms and twirled her in the air. He stopped, still holding her, Sylvie caressed his face lovingly before leaning down and kissing the love of her life. Completely ignoring the fireworks behind them, and the camera shutters in front of them. They were getting their happy ending, and they were going to love every second of it.

[devil-latte]

First Lines Meme

@badass-at-fandoming​ and @missn11​ tagged me for a First Lines Meme. They did this a very long time ago and I’m gonna give it a go now.

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Everyone I knew already got tagged in the last round so I tag anyone who wants to do it lol.

And hey fam, I only have 3 published fics at this point, so I’m gonna cheat. I’m going to include the first lines from a couple of... lone scene I have from my “Le Sang Oblige” fic universe. Here’s the thing, I haaaate writing opening lines. Lol, Le Sang Oblige doesn’t even have a “first” chapter yet, I skipped it so that I could make myself work on the parts I was excited to work on. XD Its like skipping the first page of a new sketchbook to avoid the pressure of creating whatever is going to end up being the viewers first impression. Anyway here goes (in backwards chronological order)

1) Damsel De-stress The moment Damsel set foot in The Asylum, she wanted to leave. The pimply young kine with their black-and-neon bedraggled outfits annoyed her. The synth-heavy melodramatic drone set to flashing rainbow strobes gave her a figurative headache. This was not her scene. 2) Le Sang Oblige: Avery Witnesses the Trial Avery downed the acrid, rust-colored liquid and waited for it to take effect. Only after he felt the mixture slide through his veins and found he could no longer see his hand in front of his face or his toes, did he lift the grate and enter the theatre.  3) Le Sang Oblige: Elric and Avery at the Bar “Remind me why I let you talk me into letting you come with?” “Because you’re a hunted man,” Avery replied matter-of-factly, “and I’m going to try to prevent you from getting sniped while getting a snack.” “Right…” Elric sighed. “Just be cool then. Let me do my thing.” “Looking forward to seeing what ‘the thing’ is.” This summoned up a in inscrutable glance from Elric.  4) Your Ambitions Close / Your Enemy Closer June 1999. Sebastian LaCroix slipped through the dusky streets of Downtown Los Angeles, heedless of the danger he courted as a lone agent of the Camarilla entrenched so distantly behind enemy lines. It was certainly not the Ventrue’s first time in Anarch territory, though he had to admit, the holds of New York’s loathsome Rabble seemed positively monastic compared to the raucous shamble that was the Free States of the west coast. He had spent no more than two days so far in this infernal city and as a proper order-loving Camarilla and Ventrue, the state of things made LaCroix’s blood boil.

5) Le Sang Oblige: Elric and Mercurio at the Diner Elric had not been a vampire for more than a week yet, and most of his nights had been spent in Mercurio’s company. Elric had quickly discovered that nights spent in association with the agent invariably came coupled with some measure of violence or, at the very least, gunshots. Despite this, the ghoul’s even temper and obvious acumen served as a calming presence to the new fledgling, grounding Elric in the unsettling new world he had found thrust upon him.

6) A Terrible Boss “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. LaCroix isn’t receiving anyone tonight.” Mercurio leaned against his fists on the receptionist’s desk, hoping that doing so would prevent her from seeing they were shaking. He managed a smile. “Sure, that’s what he says, but that doesn’t really apply to me.” Analysis: I invariably write in third person past tense. I used to have a complex about it, like straight up thought first person was inferior (thanks Twilight-clones). I’m past that now but still prefer 3rd person past with an iron conviction.

I always choose one point of view character for any given scene, so if its not the handful of times when I begin with dialogue, the opening line always seems to include the POV character as the subject. I don’t always mention the setting in the initial paragraph, especially if I’m setting up other intrigue with character interaction. 

Something I never seem to do is begin with description of setting or action not directly tied to a character. Always starts with the characters. 

[imaginesbymk]

“Someone New.”

Peaky Blinders One Shot

Summary: MK loves Luca unconditionally, but she has doubts whenever she thinks about how he makes a living, and she wonders if he ever loved her at all to begin with.

Pairing: Luca Changretta x Adult!Me (MK)

Tags: swearing & my really bad italian translations + my bad attempts of writing angst (inspo; this drabble)

A/N: this plot is so cheesy, and i know i don’t write au/personal imagines, but this is just a lil something i put together as a celebration for reaching 500 followers!!! one shots are not open! 

read my luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby fic Pink + White here.

THE cigarette butt was put out in the ashtray when MK occupied the study room. Luca promised her a fancy dinner date at one of the finest restaurants in New York City, but he was late. In fact, he wasn’t even home. He wasn’t dead for sure. He was smart enough to dodge that fate. Instead he was out somewhere in the busy streets, probably attending a meeting with a company MK does not know of, or maybe got too carried away with the attractions the city had to offer at night. Maybe it was another woman. Either way, her blood was boiling. 

MK was a floater. Booze was always kept in a cabinet that opened every now and then, but she never dove into the chaotic lifestyle of partying and prohibition. She never thought in a million years she would wind up falling for a man who had an equal fair share of both, as his business dealt with importing and exporting alcohol into speakeasies, and the people who worked with him were no stranger to weapons and violence. 

The theatre in New York City was packed and busy, but they met at the wrong place at the wrong time. MK snuck backstage to get a glimpse of the performers, and instead walked in on a different room. Luca was trying to negotiate a deal with the manager of the theatre, they exchanged witty comments at each other just enough to show things were about to end on, quite literally, a broken leg. 

Luca turned his head when he noticed at the corner of his eye that someone was watching them at the door, surprised to see a person who wasn’t looking for trouble for the first time. She looked too naive to hold a gun properly. He watched as the manager shouted at MK, asking what she was doing there since only employees and performers were allowed in the back section, and tries calling for security. 

“Okay, okay! I’m going!” she backed away, not before giving Luca another glance and taking off from where she entered.

She saw him again on a different night. She had completely forgotten about their previous awkward encounter, but when she saw the familiar face taking a seat next to her at the bar, she recalled seeing the look he had when they first made eye contact.

“Apparently a lady can’t drink at the bar alone. So can a gentleman join ya?” He smirks, the bartender pours him about three fingers of gin.

She was stunned to see him nights after that. New York City was wild, and men like him took many breaths away. She slowly nodded, not using her words.

Was she sure about this? The man seemed dangerous, and more experienced in anything than she’ll ever be. Of all the women that dolled themselves up for the occasion and looked tremendously beautiful and sexy, while she simply wore what she could afford at that time, why would he give his attention to her and not them?

After shyly looking down at her glass, she dared to look back at him. He was still looking at her. The butterflies in her stomach danced as if they were listening to the song the band was playing on stage. It was those eyes.

MK gave up and headed for bed since it was already late, and the restaurant Luca had the idea of taking her to was most likely closed by now. She shuts the lamp and buried herself under the sheets, bottling her frustration by just clenching her jaw. He was home when she woke up. She found him in the study in a change of clothes, his hair was falling forward post-gel, and his raspy voice spoke in Italian with the telephone pressed against his ear.

“Sono io. Diglielo che l’affare è ancora concluso.”

MK melted every time he spoke his mother tongue, this time she couldn’t bare to hear him speak. She was still upset about last night, she didn’t wanna speak to him, yet she had so much to say. She leaves him to wake herself up with coffee without the thought of preparing a cup for him too. Minutes go by and MK sips her beverage when she hears him enter the kitchen. Luca stands on the other side of the island counter, looking down at her mug.

“I’m just gonna boldly assume you didn’t make me coffee on purpose.”

“Buongiorno to you too, Luca.” She turns away so she couldn’t face him.

“MaryKate.” She felt an odd tingle in her spine. Luca almost never refers to her by her full name, not even by her other nickname, which was Kate. It was beyond weird. He walks over and cups her face. “C’mon. I’m sorry, okay? I got wrapped up with business. I was literally losing my mind because those bird brains couldn’t do simple math—”

MK was about as half ready to smash the half filled coffee mug on the floor. “My God, Luca. Business this, business that. It was your night off for the whole fucking week. You couldn’t make Matteo take over?”

Luca swore under his breath and walked back to his study.

“Where are you going?” she asks sternly.

“Back to work.” You gotta be fucking kidding me. MK watched him disappear back into the study room, and she let out a groan. The caffeine entering her bloodstreams increased her pounding heartbeat, but she quickly calmed herself when she followed him inside.

“Can I come with you to your next meeting?”

“Do you wanna meet Santa Claus too?” Luca said dryly.

“I’ve only been to one meeting. I can’t imagine the rush of power unless I’m there to feel it, and you won’t let me.”

“Yeah, damn fucking straight I won’t let you,” Luca cleared his throat. “That last meeting, those people tried to make you feel uncomfortable.” He looked up from his work from the desk and stared at MK. “I won’t let you see what’s really behind closed doors.”

But the few nights after took a whole different turn. MK wouldn’t listen, and managed to unlock Luca’s cabinet filled with his weapons, and picked out the one she thinks she was capable of using. She didn’t enjoy stealing, but proving to Luca she could be just like him and still be with him would bring them closer was on her mind. It ended with her sneaking up on the group of men Luca and his men were speaking to, and she pointed her gun at the presumable leader.

Luca’s eyes filled with dread as he froze in his spot, immediately recognizing her. Matteo grabbed the gun from MK, cursing in Italian how stupid she was and why she followed them. They were lucky the men backed down when they realized it wasn’t a good time just yet, but the worst wasn’t over.

Luca and MK’s shouts echoed their entire manor that it was enough for the neighbors to hear them.

“I can’t trust you anymore!” Luca shouted. “You realized what you could of done?! Putting yourself in danger like that?!”

“I wanted to protect you!”

“I don’t need your fucking protection!” he slams the table. “I didn’t need you to follow me, all right?” he began cursing in Italian, something MK was never able to fully understand his language one hundred percent. He held her by the shoulders. “If you ever do that shit again, I’ll—”

“You’ll what, Luca?” she pushes him. “Leave me? You’ve been pushing me aside, you forget our date nights, I end up sleeping in our bed alone, wondering if your body is laying dead on the ground! Do you have any idea how much that scares me? I get how insane it is being in the mafia, but if you can’t spare one night with me, then why am I here?”

“Y’know what, maybe you’re right. Why the fuck are you here?” MK looked at him with an icy shock. Instead of processing what he had just said, Luca turned to head back to his office. “When you gain back your fucking senses, let me know.” And he slams the door.

None of them spoke all day, too caught up in their anger to check up on each other. Luca occupied himself alone while MK wandered around the house, avoiding the corridor to his study. She checked his schedule, he had somewhere to be the following evening, no surprise. 

She stayed in the kitchen until she heard Luca’s footsteps descend from the stairs and out the front door. As soon as she heard his car drive off and having the house to herself once again, MK slides down the wall of the hallway and finally broke down into tears.

Once she calmed down, she walked up to their shared master bedroom, and packed everything she could carry in her suitcase. The last thing Luca said to her caused an aching pain in her chest. 

She could just walk out if she couldn’t take it, Luca could find another woman to sleep with without any issue. She wouldn’t be surprised if someone new entered his life a week after. It would hurt like hell, but it was the sad reality of it all.

MK walked out. No goodbyes. No telephone calls, no handwritten note, just an empty house.

_

HER old home was now owned by a friend of hers, and it contrasted the luxurious, spotless abode Luca let her stay in uptown. The taxi drive was quite long and she was exhausted, so she collapsed in the small bed, sleeping in the dress Luca had always loved seeing her wear. 

He spoiled her with riches and shared his aesthetic with hers, making sure she had her spot with fashion and art. In MK’s old home, it was decrepit. No one paid a visit because they hated the design, and no one saw her for who she really was, but Luca was different. He wanted her, and he got her. 

Days go by and MK still had the aching heartbreak in her chest as she entered downtown New York City at night to see a show in the grand theatre. She had to admit, she was bummed out when she saw how many people brought their lovers or husbands and wives to the show, and it seemed like she was the only one without either. She was alone.

MK picks up her pace and rushed inside to take her assigned seat and sighed in relief, staring at the red curtain on stage ready to come up and showcase the night, hoping to distract her from her inexplicable grieving.

The empty seat next to her was then taken, filling in the space between her and the next guest after. MK took in how the man’s fragrance was enriched and strong, and she could see the giant rings on his finger nearly covered some of the tattoos inked on his skin, including the crown tattoo on his hand, or the one on his neck which was a cross. His hat rested well on his lap and he hooked one leg on the other. His suit was clean as usual, and the cuffs on his wrist enclosed with the golden pressed buttons. 

No. Her heart raced as she turned to see his face. She was met with those eyes.

One thing she forgot to remember was the fact that Luca loved theatre, this was the theatre he usually goes to, and this was where they met. Of course he wouldn’t miss a show. He kept staring straight ahead as the loud cheers and applause erupted when the curtains rose. 

MK could barely pay attention to the performance. The tension rising between Luca’s presence and hers pressed together so tightly. He did this on purpose, MK thought. Fucking bastard!

Unless the last two empty seats were meant for them so coincidentally, as both of them bought solo tickets and wounded up next to each other. But this was insane. Luca was entitled enough to watch the shows up on the balcony for the best seats in the house, so why pick the orchestra seats?

It didn’t matter how, she never felt so uncomfortable in her entire life and couldn’t stifle her panic. 

Luca broke the ice, quietly talking over the music that transitioned to a slow chorus. “I made the owner arrange a seating. It was meant for another couple, but they never showed up.” He tries reaching for her hand when he noticed her tensing up. “MK, amore. calm down.” He looked at her with worry. “All right. I think we need to talk.”

MK broke out in an exhaled cry and got up. “Fuck this.” She carefully goes passed the seated guests before heading out the exit, running out of the theatre in tears until she could no longer breathe.

Luca chased after her onto the streets, pushing past people along the way. “MK, c’mon! Please don’t go.”

MK stopped and covers her face in her hands. “Don’t talk to me with that intimidating mafia shit, then!” Speak like a fucking human being, Luca!”

“Fine,” Luca pulled her from behind and held her. “I’m sorry.” He kisses her shoulder up to her neck. “I need you. It doesn’t feel right not having you here, MK.”

“You have far more important things than someone like me,” she says. “And you agree with that.” MK shivers, feeling the night cold and she hugs herself with her thin layered trenchcoat.

“You had nothin’ else to wear but that?” Luca’s eyes loomed over her outfit. “That’s not for winter.” He removed his long overcoat and wraps it around her. “You’re just as important as my work, and I didn’t take that seriously. I should of paid more attention.”

“You can’t just push me aside, Luca.” She turns around to face him. “Eventually, I’ll end up finding someone new, someone who won’t treat me like a second option.”

“I’d rather die.” Luca cupped her face. “I’ll do better, you hear me? God forbid if I ever neglect you again, I would never forgive myself.”

“Luca—”

“No. It’s hard to balance love and work, but I can’t just toss you away like that. You’re all the world to me.”

MK lookes down sadly. “Luca, I just know nothing will change. We’re so different.”

Luca shook his head. “That’s not gonna stop me.”

“But why?” MK asks. “There are women out there who would gladly take my place any day, and they’re ten times more experienced.”

“Sure, that may be true. But I can’t imagine spending my life with those women, sharing my home with them, waking up next to them, holding them, possibly having a future with them.” He lifts her chin. “Because I love you.” And he leans down, kissing her softly. MK wrapped her arms around him for support. He pressed his forehead on hers, his eyes still shut.

“I love you too, Luca.” The couple pulls away. “So, are we heading back inside?”

“Actually, there’s this restaurant I’ve been dying to take you to,” he smirks as he took her hand, and they began walking off down the streets of New York City, the lights blaring up on their bright faces like they were brand new.

_

tag list: @ladyxblake​ @lotsoffandomimagines​ @amirahiddleston​ @thethyri​ @woahitslucyylu​ @myriadimagines @obsessedunicorn24 @fangirlsarah16 @your-pixels-are-showing​

[richieisabastardman]

I Need You Tonight - Barry Berkman x Reader

Summary: Your involvement with the Chechen mafia has led to you committing a range of criminal offences. The worst being your work as a hit man. However, with the weight of such sins upon your shoulders, you look for understanding and companionship in the only person you know will understand. Barry. (Angst/Fluff/Smut)

Warnings: Swearing, Killing, Blood, Clothed Grinding, Thigh Riding, Hands on necks but not choking (and in a hot way), Barry’s a low key dom, Sexual Situations

Word count: 3718

Notes: This is so long but I refuse to have sexy stuff without a story behind it. I’d love to know whether you guys prefer longer stories or shorter ones? I like writing long ones but then I hate having to edit them after lmao. Anyway, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Heres a link to my other Barry Berkman fic

“I swear to God Hank, this is the last hit. This is it, alright? I’m done after this one”.

Barry’s eyes were furrowed and serious as he spoke to the Chechen man. You stared at him from where you sat upon a grey velvet lounge in the new and improved stash house. Your eyes roamed his body, his broad shoulders contained by a thin black sweater. His sleeves were rolled upwards which allowed you to peak at his thick forearms. His legs were unfortunately hidden by jeans that were just a little too loose for your liking. He wore a black cap upon his head, which shaded his face under the artificial light of the warehouse. You wished you could see more of his face, as his expression was difficult to read. Yes, his expression was serious. So was his voice. However, the thought that Barry wouldn’t be coming here anymore didn’t sit well with you. Something strange must have been going on for him to act like this.

You watched Barry finalize his deal with Hank before beginning to walk over to the couch in which you were lounging. His face had softened a great deal on his walk over and he appeared almost meek as he met your gaze and smiled.

“Hey” he said, standing in front you. Admiring him from such an angle made him appear inches taller than he already was.

“Hey” you returned the greeting, continuing to smile. “Come sit with me”.

Barry shuffled his feet for a moment, almost contemplating your command, before obeying. He sat on the couch next to you, but he left enough space between the both of you to eliminate any intimacy. Naturally you moved closer to him. Your hand made its way around the back of the couch, almost trapping Barry within your presence. You saw him gulp and he stared at you for a moment with wide eyes before his gaze moved to his lap.

“I heard what you said to Hank. About this being your last job. Are you really not coming back?” you asked.

His gaze moved to you again for a moment before shifting back to his lap as he nodded his head. “Yeah. I’m – I’m trying to be a better guy”.

You let out a huff and pouted your lips, feigning sadness. Barry saw this and laughed slightly, appearing to relax a little. “But I think you’re a good guy already. A great guy, in fact!” you said.

Barry’s gaze met yours for the final time. He stared at you, his eyes wider than before and his mouth hanging slightly open. His reaction to your words tugged at your heart. When Barry spoke to Hank, he was the military man you had heard about before you got the chance to meet him. His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes dark, his arms folded to halt any kind of connection to those near him. However, the first time you met him; his aura had softened. He had become almost childlike and innocent. He was always polite and almost shy around you. You began to see the difference between the man born Barry Berkman and the man he called Barry Block.

“Do you really think that?” he asked, his voice the softest you’d ever heard it.

“Of course” you replied earnestly and he smiled.

He stared at you in silence for a moment before speaking again. “Why didn’t they just get you to do this job”.

“I don’t do that anymore. I’m getting more into the drug side of this business” you grinned.

“Nice. Lots of money in that I guess” He said, nodding his head in thought. “Do you think you’ll ever do anything else?” he asked.

You pondered his question for a moment. This had been the first time you had even considered the prospect of leaving Hank and his crew. Whilst the job was dangerous, and obviously illegal, Hank had given you the opportunity to make money and have a roof over your head. He was also a great boss, very laissez-faire. He had taken a chance by hiring you, and you hadn’t thought of anything else since.

“Maybe” you answered. “But these guys have given me everything I have right now. I feel like leaving them would be … disloyal”.

Barry nodded his head for a moment before clapping his hands together and standing up off of the couch. “I have to go. Got to get to my acting class” He said in response to your raised eyebrow.

“Oh yeah that’s right! I’ve heard about that” you smiled, and he once again returned the smile. “Well, go break a leg” you said.

“Thanks Y/N” he said, and turned around to make his way out of the warehouse.

~

He shouldn’t have made you do it. He shouldn’t have. Hank had promised you that you wouldn’t have to do anymore kills for him. He had promised you that you would be able to just work in their drug trade. However, during the evening of the day in which you had spoken to Barry about his own hitman retirement, Hank had called you. You had been just about to de-robe for the day, a glass of wine in hand when you had heard your mobile ringing. Groaning and muttering profanities, you saw Hank’s name on your cell as you picked it up. It wasn’t rare for Hank to call you at all times of the day, so the panic did not hit you until you heard his voice on the other end. It was sickly sweet even for him.

“You’re gonna hate me for asking you to do this”

And he was right. You did hate him for asking you to do that for him, because he knew you couldn’t say no.

You had held it together up until you shut the door after hauling your body inside your apartment.

You held it together as you drove to the location of your target, a lovely suburban neighbourhood. You held it together when you walked into the house, passing pictures of said target and his wife and children. You held it together as you shot the man from behind as he watched TV, oblivious to your presence. You even held it together as you disposed of his body. However, the minute you let your door slam behind you, a red that was now browning staining your hands – you could no longer hold it together. You broke down, your breath coming in and out of you in rapid waves as you slid down the door, sobbing silently. You went to wipe your face with your hands before you caught sight of their colour and began sobbing again.

You dragged yourself to your bathroom, quickly turning on the shower and undressing before pushing yourself under the stream of water. You watched the coloured water turn clear as you cleaned the night off your body. The shower however could not clean the night off your mind. When you had spoken to Barry about why you couldn’t do his hit for Hank, you were only telling specific truths. Yes, you had moved into the drug trade. However, you had not done so just for the hell of it. You had always thought of yourself as strong. Hence, when you began to do hits for Hank, the weight of such a job on your soul was only minimal. But as the body count increased, the voice of your conscience grew louder. Your last hit, before this one, had almost gotten you killed. You had frozen up, panic setting into you. Your target had taken advantage of this fact. Hank had promised to find you another job.

“You’ve done so much for us. Just relax! I’ll find you something else to do, I promise”

And he kept his promise. He did, until he didn’t. And he didn’t tonight.

You weren’t sure how you were going to make it through the night alone. You wouldn’t get any sleep, you knew you wouldn’t. But you had no one to call and nowhere to go except to your bed and the nightmares there that awaited you. You stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body. You could barely feel its softness and warmth due to the numbness which had encased your skin and brain. You walked to your bedroom, feet heavy and steps slow. You pulled on a black skirt and a white t-shirt. You also placed socks upon your feet and shoes on top of them. Walking to your front door, you grabbed your car keys, your hair still wet from the shower and soaking through the fabric of your shirt. You walked down to the parking lot of your apartment block and entered your car. As you sat there, trying to focus your vision, you hear the engine of your car begin to roar. You had started the car. You didn’t even realise. Reversing out of your spot and onto the LA streets, you understood where the being that had current control of your body was taking you.

There was one place you could go. There was one person you could go to.

 ~

Barry stood upon the low stage of the theatre in which Gene Cousineau’s acting classes were held. A script gripped tightly in his hand, he spoke his lines with a forceful monotonicity to the painfully neutral faces of the audience. Sally stood next to him, delivering her responses with much more power as Barry watched in awe. He could only dream of being as good as her one day. When he was halfway through his response to Sally’s character’s plea, Barry heard the doors of the stage room open. Everyone in the room turned their head towards the intruder, confused and irritated looks clouding their faces.

You stood beyond the open doors, breathing hard. Your hair had dried up more on the drive over to Barry’s acting class. You had kept the windows open in case your body decided to remove the shame from within you as well. You stood and stared at Barry, his eyes widening in panic. He jumped down from the stage, walking swiftly towards you.

“What is going on, Barry? Where are you going? Who is this?” Gene asked, clearly annoyed, his eyes following the tall man as he raced towards your figure standing in the theatre. That is how you truly appeared to him in that moment. A figure. Because as you stood within that room and stared at him as he was upon that stage, you had never looked so deflated. He had never seen you look so scared.

“She’s a friend of mine. I’ll handle it. Just carry on without me” he said, quickly reaching you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders to lead you out of the theatres.

Once you were out in the hall, Barry turned you so that you were facing him, his hands on your shoulders. They gripped you tightly but comfortingly as he hunched himself slightly to be eye level with you. “You can’t come here, okay Y/N. You can’t come here” he said softly. It wasn’t a command of anger nor disappointment, it was one of concern. You knew right now he was Barry Block, the auto parts salesman. But you needed Barry Berkman, the man who had seen the same shit as you and could help.

You didn’t respond to Barry’s command and you could see he was beginning to panic, his jaw tightening. When a tear welled up within your right eye and fell down your cheek, he paused his panicky state. He chose instead to rub his hands up and down your upper arms slowly, still hunching to reach your eyes with his own easier.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he asked and you shook your head violently, almost like a child.

“I need you” you choked out “Please, just tonight, I need you”.

Your plea was all Barry needed to feel wave of protectiveness wash over him. A product of evolution, perhaps. Big man protects scared little woman. He knew you weren’t a scared little woman, however, which is why your current state worried him more. Despite such thoughts, he nodded his head, obeying your command for the second time that day and began leading you out of the building.

“Did you drive here?” he asked, his arm around your shoulder.

You nodded your head and he hummed. “I’ll drive us to your place. I can come get my car later” he said and led you to your car.

~

Barry led you up the stairs of your apartment block to your door. You handed him the keys, your shaking hands causing them to let out a jingle which filled the silence between the two of you. He opened your front door and led you into your apartment. Sitting you down on your loveseat lounge, he disappeared into your kitchen, returning with a glass of water. You held the glass which he had nudged into your hands, sipping from it tentatively. Finally, he sat beside you, his hands on his knees, rubbing them anxiously.

“Did you want to talk about what happened?” he asked, trying to look into your teary eyes. You continued to stare forward, sipping from your glass.

“Hank got me to do a job tonight. I didn’t want to…” you trailed off, finally turning your head to meet Barry’s gaze. He gave you a tight-lipped smile, one that communicated his understanding and encouraged you to continue. “I freaked out and didn’t know who could help… until I remembered our talk today. I’m sorry I turned up at your acting class-“

“It’s fine” he replied, rubbing your back gently with his large hands “I was just surprised”.

Suddenly, you practically launched yourself into Barry’s chest, pressing your face against the soft fabric of his shirt and wrapping your hands tightly around his middle. Your glass had been flung across the room but did not shatter. Some water remained in it still. Barry’s hands remained open for a moment in shock before wrapping around you, holding you tightly against his chest. You began to sob again once you felt his tenderness and he placed his cheek on the top of your head, shushing you quietly and mumbling something into your hair.

“What?’ you asked and Barry gently pulled you back so that he could look you in the eyes, with hands upon your shoulders.

“I said, you’re a good person Y/N”

You stared at him with wide, teary eyes and an open mouth, mirroring Barry’s own expression earlier that same day. The way that he looked at you, his eyes almost sparkling, told you that he truly meant what he said. Whilst you didn’t believe him, you appreciated the sentiment.

You moved your hand to Barry’s cheek, the stubble there tickling your palm ever so slightly. He shut his eyes at the touch and you leaned forward, gently covering his lips with your own. His eyes shot open at the kiss, however with your own eyes shut, you didn’t catch his panic. He shut them again quickly, leaning forward into your kiss and opening his mouth to allow it to deepen. He moved one of his hands to your waist, gripping there tightly, protectively. You moaned at his touch and you felt his shuddery breath in response.  His other hand gripped the side of your neck gently, his fingers just under your jaw. When his thumb moved to the other side of your neck, his grip now encasing your neck, you moaned again, and this prompted Barry to lift you from the side of the couch onto his lap so you could straddle him.

You squealed at the action but were quickly silenced by Barry’s lips once again upon yours, kissing with a passion more intense than before. His hand still encased your neck and his other hand travelled down your back and below your skirt, gripping your ass from underneath. Your once innocent view of the older man was slowly fading from your memory as this Barry, Barry Berkman, had his tongue in your mouth and his large hands squeezing your behind. He was pushing you ever so slightly against him, grinding you into him. You moved away from the kiss to place your head against his shoulder, moaning quietly. His other hand moved to your back now, holding your body against him and rubbing it comfortingly. His jeans were too thick for him to be feeling as much of this as you were, you thought. He was doing everything for your benefit, for your pleasure.

You sat up for a moment, moving away from him and you saw a flash of panic across his face before he watched you move to mount his thigh, your thighs on either side of his thick one and your core against it. He leaned his head against the back of your lounge, his mouth agape and eyes filled with awe. Your skirt and shirt still on, everything was technically hidden from Barry’s view. However, your face was still on full display, and that was all Barry needed. You began to grind yourself against Barry’s thigh, your hands on his shoulder and his hands on your waist for support. The material of his jeans against you was harsh but provided just enough texture to cause goosebumps to form and travel up your arms.

“You’re so good” Barry said lowly, his voice sounded the huskiest it had ever had. “Such a good girl”.

You picked up your pace at his words of encouragement, moving yourself faster and faster against him.  Your eyes never left his as he stared up at you. He occasionally looked down to his thigh which you were upon, swallowing down his arousal at the sight of your own arousal soaking a wet spot through his jeans. It was all so pornographic yet so intimate as he rubbed your sides lovingly. You felt yourself getting closer to your limit, your eyes squeezing shut and breaking your gaze from Barry’s for the first time in minutes.

“I think I’m-“ you whimpered.

Barry tucked a strand of hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear, his hand gripping behind your head to pull you towards him and finally kiss you again. You came the minute your lips touched, and he pulled you against his body. You gripped his back, scratching through the shirt and gripping the muscles there. You moaned into his mouth, falling apart against him and he held you protectively. As you came down from your high, you moved to lay your head upon his shoulder, lips grazing his neck as he drew lazily upon your back.

You suddenly perked up from his shoulder and he looked at you, confused by your actions.

“Let me help you” you said, your hand travelling down his chest to the buttons of his jeans. As you moved into a better position to undo his buttons, you noticed a wet patch on the front of his jeans, other than the one you had left upon his thigh.

You looked up at him and noticed he was looking to the side, his fist covering his mouth slightly in what you assumed was embarrassment. “You already-“ you started.

“Yeah, just after you did” he answered, interrupting your question in order to stop you from even asking.

“I didn’t even touch-“ you started again.

“Yeah I know” Barry said, still refusing to meet your gaze.

“That’s so hot” you said smiling and he finally turned his head to look at you, a smile creeping onto his face in response to yours.

“I should go clean-up” he said, promoting you to lift yourself off of him and back onto the lounge beside him. He began to stand up on shakey legs, still physically and mentally recovering from what had just occurred.

As he made his way to your bathroom you called his name, causing him to turn and look at you once again. “Thank you” you said, the horrors of what you had done today were now back behind a flimsy closet door within your mind.

He smiled, nodding before turning around again.

~

“You shouldn’t have done that Hank… No I don’t care! You call me if you need a hit done, okay? Not her! You do that shit again and I swear to God, you’re a dead man”.

The mans voice woke you up from your slumber. You were laying in your bed, your hand reached out to the spot beside you that was slowly losing its warmth from the body that was once laying there. You smiled at the memories of the night before. Barry had been so caring, laying with you in bed all night and holding you. He always held you so tight. He held you like he wanted to hold you, like he always wanted to hold you. You sat up in your bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you heard him enter your bedroom. He was fully dressed in what he was wearing the night before, however his pants were now clean. His stern expression softened as he caught sight of you, so sweet and peaceful and not yet burdened by the realities of the day.

“Did I wake you up” he asked, moving to sit on the end of your bed. You shuffled toward him on your hands and knees, hugging him from behind and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“No” you mumbled into his neck “Was that Hank?”.

“Uh yeah. You won’t be doing any more jobs like that. I took care of it” he replied.

“Thank you” you said, and left a kiss on his cheek.

He stood up then, his hands in his pockets and looking a bit more confident than he usually did when he was with you. “I have to go” he said. You pouted and he smiled. “But I’d love to take you to dinner tonight, if you’d let me”.

Your pout quickly turned to a grin and you nodded your head.

“Cool” he smiled and began making his way out of your bedroom, looking back at you three times on his way out.

 Tag list (I tagged everyone who liked the post, if you dont want to be tagged let me know): @tozierskaspb @thatnerdyaquarius @princess-chocolate-drop @w0nder-marie @whovianayesha @hystaerias @babyravenpuff050 @the-blackblood @godmuffin @ladyr0b0t @hecklleandjyde

[i-am-out-of-my-vulcan-mind]

To Forgive and Forget - Chapter 7

Hello! 

I've finally managed to write enough for it to be considered long enough to be a chapter xD 

Sorry for leaving you all on such an evil cliffhanger. 

Thank you to my wonderful @lurkingwhump for helping me structure this chapter. As always I'm so grateful for your help.

I hope you enjoy this chapter and would appreciate any feedback or ideas! 

Kurt waited with his head in his hands. He had gone from pacing, to being too utterly drained to even move. He was completely spent, both physically and emotionally. 

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he had been ushered out of Jane's room, but so far, he hadn't heard anything. 

He had managed to flick a quick message to the team, updating them on Jane - though there wasn't much he could really tell them, when he himself did not know what was happening. 

Another twenty minutes passed, before a doctor he didn't recognize entered the otherwise empty waiting room.

"Kurt Weller?" she asked, approaching him.

He raised his head from his hands, too overwhelmed to speak. 

The doctor took this as confirmation and took a seat beside him. 

"I'm Doctor Murphy." she introduced herself. "Doctor Thompson has taken Jane back into surgery." 

'Well at least she wasn't dead ' Kurt thought to himself.

At Kurt's silence, she continued.

"Jane's blood pressure dropped dramatically - an indication she had started hemorrhaging internally again. They've had to open her up again, to try and stop the bleed."

Kurt nodded, still unable to form words. His brain was whirring with all of the possibilities that Jane might not make it out of this alive. Doctor Thompson had said the first forty eight hours were crucial to her recovery… did this mean because she had gone backwards, that her survival rate was even slimmer than before?

"Do you have any questions?" Doctor Murphy asked sympathetically. Her eyes were kind, and Kurt could tell that she genuinely cared for her patients. 

He shook his head, unable to ask what Jane's new odds of survival were.

She patted him on the shoulder.

"Ok." she said standing up. "Someone will be back to update you as soon as possible." She offered a small smile, which Kurt could not find in himself to return, not even to be polite. 

The doctor left the room, leaving him alone again. 

Being alone in that hospital waiting room, he felt the dark thoughts starting to close in on him. The guilt was starting to crush him. He had never in their relationship, spoken to Jane like that before. Not even when she got back from the blacksite and he couldn't even bare to be in the same room as her. Even then, he had at least tried to treat her with a level of professionalism. Though this time, she was his wife. 

There was no need to treat her with kiddy gloves and because of that, when the rage surfaced in regards to Clem, he didn't even try to hold back. 

He had been so worked up about finding the girl, that he had been blind to what was right in front of him. Jane really had just been trying to help… even Kurt knew that Clem had contacts all over the world - he was almost as well connected as Nas. 

But all he had been able to see, was her naked, sprawled out on top of a man that wasn't him and all of the hurt and pain had come crashing back down. 

Working this case had definitely dragged up some painful memories, and he was ashamed that he had chosen to take it out on his wife. Especially when he knew that this case had caused some painful memories of her own to surface. The state of the basement, had been similar to the orphanage she and her brother had grown up in - but he had been so wrapped up in his own emotions, he hadn't even considered how she must be feeling. 

Now she could die… now he might never get a chance to say that he's sorry. 

He hung his head in his hands again, feeling overcome with guilt. 

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A couple more hours passed and Kurt still hadn't heard anything. He was about to lose his shit, when a familiar figure appeared in the doorway.

"Allie…" he whispered, relief washing over him in waves. He got to his feet and was pulled into a strong hug.

"I came as soon as I heard." she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Patterson called me last night before she left for the hospital… when she found out how bad Jane had been hurt, she thought you could use the support." she explain, as they both sat down on the hard hospital chairs. 

"Thank you." he choked out sincerely. 

"How is she doing?" Allie asked quietly, almost too afraid to hear what he might say. Patterson had told her Jane had been shot and that she had coded in the helicopter, but apart from that the extent of her injuries were unknown. 

"Honestly… things aren't looking great." he said sadly. "She's back in theatre now… she started hemorrhaging internally again."

"Oh Kurt…" Allie said, placing a hand on his knee. "She's gonna be ok."

He shook his head, images of her lifeless body flashing through his mind.

"They've had to remove her spleen and a lobe of her lung…  she's lost so much blood already…" he cleared his throat, choking back a sob. "They said the first forty eight hours were crucial to her recovery… but she's…" he looked up at Allie, his eyes welling up with grief. "I can't lose her Allie… I just can't." And with that he lost the battle and dissolved into a fit of tears.

"Oh come here." Allie murmured, reaching out and wrapping him in her arms. "It's gonna be ok Kurt." she said softly. "The two of you have been through too much for this to be the end." She let go of him, holding him at arm's length. Looking into his tear stricken eyes, she said, "You have to remain strong for her, ok? Jane needs you to stay strong."

He nodded softly, taking a deep breath to try and control his emotions. She reached out and wiped his tears off his face. She had never seen him like this before. The man sitting beside her was one she did not recognise. Sure, he looked like the Kurt Weller she knew and loved, but the broken look on his face was causing him to look like a stranger. 

"Even if she does wake up… she's probably going to hate me anyway." he said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Allie cocked her head to the side.

"Now why would you say that?"

He hung his head 

"We had an argument. Right before she got shot."

He looked at her confused expression and hung his head.

"We said some pretty hurtful things to each other."

Allie reached out and took his hand. 

"Kurt… when Jane wakes up… she's not going to care about a silly little fight. All she is going to care about is that she survived, and that you are right by her side."

Kurt looked gratefully up at his friend. The confidence in her voice had him believing what she was saying, could actually be true. His wife could wake up… she could forgive him. If they were to move forward from this they were going to have to forgive and forget - and honestly, after everything they had been through the last twenty four hours, that was definitely not going to be a problem for him.

"Thank you for coming, Allie." he said, his voice emotional.

"Of course." she replied matter of factly. "You and Jane are family." 

He blew out a lungful of air.

"Did you bring Bethany?" he asked, both hopeful that she did and that she didn't. 

Allie shook her head. 

"I didn't think it was a good idea her seeing Jane like this. Connor said he can bring her later if necessary…"

Kurt let her words hang in the air. 

He knew that Bee would be too young to understand what was happening with Jane, but if it came to it… he would love it if she got to say goodbye. 

He shut down that part of his brain again, trying to focus on Allie's words from earlier. He had to remain strong for Jane. She was right. There was no point dwelling on the negatives until he had all of the answers. 

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Doctor Thompson appeared in the doorway, looking disheveled, to say the least. Kurt jumped to his feet, approaching the doctor.

"How… how is she?" he stammered.

The doctor smiled softly.

"She pulled through." he replied, gesturing for them to take a seat.

Kurt collapsed back into his chair, relief washing over him. His emotions were so overwhelming, he thought he might cry again.

"We've managed to stabilize the bleeding… and honestly… she is doing really well… better than expected." the doctor offered them a small smile. "Your wife is one hell of a fighter." 

Kurt managed a smile back at that.

"That she is." he agreed. "When can I see her?" he asked, hopeful that it would be soon.

"She will be transferred back to the ICU shortly. She's already been in recovery for about an hour." At seeing Kurt's slight frown, he added. "I apologize for not coming to update you sooner, but I wanted to stay with Jane to make sure she was doing alright."

Kurt nodded his appreciation. He was about to get his hackles up at not being notified the moment she was out of surgery, but he was grateful to the doctor for keeping a close eye on her.

"We will be keeping her sedated for the next forty eight hours, to give her body the best chance at healing." Doctor Thompson explained. "But my hopes are still high that she will make a full recovery." 

"Thank you." Kurt said, offering his hand for the doctor to shake.

Doctor Thompson took his hand, giving a small nod. "Again these next forty eight hours are crucial. I don't want to lead you with false hope. She is still very unwell."

"Understood." Kurt said, knowing full well what could happen, should she start to bleed again. Her body would be exhausted. There was no way she could survive another surgery.

 "Someone will be along soon to notify you when Jane has been transferred." 

"Ok… thank you again." Kurt replied. How could one express the amount of gratitude he was currently feeling. The man had literally stood between Jane and death and managed to win. There was no way he could thank him enough for saving his wife's life yet again. 

The doctor smiled a tired smile, before leaving Kurt and Allie alone again. 

Kurt exhaled deeply, turning to look at Allie. 

"I told you she would be ok." she said, earning a lighter expression to his face. Seeing the relief running through him was like a breath of fresh air. 

"Allie… I-"

"Save it." she said, cutting him off. "You don't need to thank me again."

Kurt smirked sheepishly at her. She knew him far too well. Apart from Jane, she knew him better than anyone. 

They sat in companionable silence, both relishing in the relief than Jane had pulled through the surgery. They both knew there was a long way to go to recovery, but the fact that Jane was 'one hell of a fighter' as the doctor had put it, had them almost hopeful that she would make it out of this alive. 

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A nurse came to collect Kurt once Jane had been transferred. Allie opted to stay in the waiting room to give them some privacy.

Tentatively, Kurt approached her, reaching out and taking her pinky finger again. 

"Oh Jane…" he murmured, taking a seat beside her. "You've gotta stop scaring me like that." Like before, his only response was the hiss of the ventilator. He reached out, brushing the hair off her face as gently as possible.

"I just wanted to say again… I'm so sorry about our argument… Allie says you'll forgive me… but I know you're probably gonna be pretty pissed off at me still… you're bloody stubborn that way." he chuckled quietly. "I need you to rest baby… rest and heal so you can wake up and be mad at me…" he paused for a second, taking in her pale features. "I don't care how angry you are at me when you wake up… so long as you do wake up." 

He let a tear escape from his eye.

"No more Jane…" he begged. "I don't think I can take much more." 

He sighed, scrubbing his hand over his stubbled face. He was exhausted, but there was no way he would be leaving Jane's side until he was literally escorted off the premises. He would use the power of his badge for as long as he possibly could. 

"Sweet dreams, baby." he whispered, feeling the same sense of hopelessness that he had the last time he had said that to her. Though at least this time, the healing was up to her. There were no rare cells that needed to be found in order to save her life. He didn't think he had ever been more thankful that she was so stubborn. 

He knew if she lived, it would be out of share willpower. 

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Ties in Blood -- Chapter 27

Warning: There is cutting/suicide here. 

Here’s Aaliyah dealing with the dream fallout and coming back around. Kushiel’s Legacy is indeed a book series by Jacqueline Carey, and an awesome set of books that’s a twist on historical fiction. If you check it out, start with Kushiel’s Dart.

@mrswhozeewhatsis​ @percussiongirl2017​ @impala-dreamer​ @winchestergirl-13 @optimisticpeacecollector5 @squirrelnotsam @optimisticpeacecollector5

Chapter 27

Aaliyah slipped into the guest room that Pris had set up for her and closed the door. There had been too much that Aaliyah couldn’t let go unnoticed. With the drops of information from her siblings about her being in a tv show, Aaliyah wanted to check it out. Starting what appeared to be her laptop up, Aaliyah dug through her bag and pulled out a change of clothes. After the long trail ride and tending to the horses, she wanted a shower. Luck had been on her side when the laptop started up without the use of a password. She squinted her eyes at the results that popped up from putting her name into the search bar.

Her name pulled up her page on the database for movies and television shows, news articles about her and what she’s done in ways of giving back to the community and charity work. Most of the charity work focused on those who lived below the poverty line and barely made anything. That didn’t seem so bad. It had touched home for her childhood. Her eye caught the headline of an article that had been posted the day before she arrived at the house.

‘Kushiel’s Legacy’ Seeps into the Real Life

Aaliyah clicked on the link and scanned the article that broke the news that she had been caught having relations with one of the directors of the television show she was a regular on. The article went on with information from an unnamed person who worked on the show telling the news outlet how Aaliyah and the director had been seen to be a bit too close during times on set and would go out after the day’s shooting was done. Even showed up to set the next day as if they spent the night together.

She closed the laptop without closing the window, seeing enough of what her pretend life was like. It sounded like a good life if it hadn’t been for the outside relations the article spoke about. Aaliyah grabbed her clean clothes and headed for the nearest bathroom for a shower. Voices drifted down the hall from the dining area. She would have ignored them if her name hadn’t been said. She crept down and hid in the shadows against the hall.

“I’m surprised she had the nerve to show up with all the stuff that’s going on,” Leo said. “I mean, doesn’t she know what she does reflects on us, right?”

“Not like she has enough … fun while shooting some parts of the show,” Xander added.

“You try having actual adult moments with a bunch of people hanging around watching,” Nissa said in Aaliyah’s defense. “Besides, the guys have this … sling thing that keep ‘em down for those times.”

“Still, she had to be caught like that,” Leo circled back around. “Do any of you think she had enough smarts to not do it?”

“Who said she actually did any of it? We haven’t heard her say anything about it.”

“She could be trying to avoid it,” Xander suggested. “I’m not saying she did or didn’t do what TMZ or other celebrity news are reporting. We all know Aaliyah’s been the one who had to grow up when our mother died.”

That was true enough. Aaliyah had to lie about her age a little in order to gain a job while in junior high. Xander told her not to do it.

“She did have a tough time when we all started living together,” Nissa commented.

“Who’s side are you taking here, sis?” Leo asked.

“Think about it.”

Aaliyah heard footsteps in the kitchen; Nissa walked somewhere.

“Put us in their position,” Nissa continued. “And you had to do what Aaliyah did? Then mom married another man and we social climbed. Then you didn’t have to struggle to save money for food or thrift store clothes. Or help pay bills.”

Aaliyah didn’t hear anyone speak after that. It was her cue to slip back down the hall for the bathroom and start up the shower. It was the perfect dream life; a family, one or both parents living, and a stable job. Hearing her siblings sitting around discussing something she hadn’t done wasn’t part of that dream.

She closed the door behind her and locked it before dumping her clean clothes into the sink. Once she had the water running, Aaliyah put her hands on the sink and put her weight on them. Her breath shook before she looked into the mirror. A green and blue eye scanned her sun kissed skin. No scars or any sort of mares that she had gained from the years of hunting. Aaliyah pulled her shirt off and moved to look at the spot where the hand print should have been from the Djinn. It wasn’t there. Nothing added up.

“Help me,” a disembodied voice echoed in the bathroom.

Jerking at the sound, Aaliyah looked around to find no one was there with her. None of her siblings would have thought to pull the “hide a speaker in the bathroom” prank. Out of the corner of her eye, the mirror reflected the image of the guy in the coma at the assisted living place. Her eyes narrowed as she turned to look at the image. Sleep had been short the past few days, but Aaliyah swore she had enough to not be hallucinating things.

“Aaliyah?” Nissa’s voice was muffled by the door. “Is it okay I come in?”

She shook her head free of the image. “Yeah.” Aaliyah worked off her pants when Nissa entered and closed the door.

“Are you sure you wanna go back next week?” Nissa asked. “I mean…”

“Do I really wanna face all the criticism and backlash of whatever someone claimed I did?” Aaliyah tossed the last piece of clothing into the dirty pile and stepped into the shower. “The news broke Thursday, sis. Unless the higher ups at the network decide to pull the show before the season finale, I’m sure nothing serious has been decided.”

Aaliyah heard Nissa lower the toilet lid and saw her shadow sit through the decorative shower curtain.

“We’re just worried,” her sister said. “I mean, we’re not exactly cut off from the world here.”

Aaliyah paused in working the shampoo through her hair. “You’re worried that the rumor of what may or may not have happened will make everyone look bad.” Not that she could really blame them. “Whatever people are claiming isn’t true. Any bet it was someone who had gone for the role I got but got a lesser role in the deal. And this is their way of trying to get back at me.”

She rinsed out the shampoo with the thought that Nissa would be able to see right through the lie. Conditioner was worked through and left while Aaliyah grabbed the body wash and a washcloth.

“You’ve been here most of the day, and not once brought up the matter,” Nissa said. “We can help.”

“Not sure how much help you all will be.” Aaliyah worked the lathered cloth over her body. “I gotta handle it on my own.”

“Or … you could just stay here. There’s a few job openings at the local theatre.”

Aaliyah stopped mid leg, thrown off by the comment. It sounded like her sister made the suggestion that she quit the show and get involved in the local theatre. Why would she do that?

“Anyway,” Nissa broke into Aaliyah’s thoughts. “We’re gonna be leaving in about an hour for dinner. Thought you’d wanna know.”

Part of Aaliyah wanted to dismiss what Nissa said out of hand. It was the perfect life. Being one of a handful of rising stars, being a lead on a television series based on a book series too good for movies, and all the charity work. Aaliyah couldn’t imagine much else. Something had to be tossed in for a twist; the article. There had to be that one thing to be the wrench in the plans. Rinsing out the conditioner and the body wash, Aaliyah turned the water off and stepped out of the tub.

***

Aaliyah slid her chair under her as she sat at the table. The others were settling in as the host assured that their waiter would see to them shortly. She adjusted her shirt a little before reaching for the glass of water. Her eyes shifted around the full dining room, low conversations at each table and the wait staff moving about like a well-oiled machine. The light was high enough to be able to read the menu and see her siblings and step mother at the table, but not those at the nearby tables.

“You all enjoy your ride this afternoon?” Pris asked, putting her own glass down.

Aaliyah nodded along with her siblings. It had been a relatively uneventful ride that she would have missed in the city. If she had experienced the life everyone else remembered. Her siblings ordered their choice of wine when the waiter came by. Aaliyah glanced at the wine list before spotting the section for other alcoholic drinks.

“I’ll have … a Long Island, please,” Aaliyah ordered, ignoring the barely contained glares from her family.

“Was that necessary?” Pris asked when the waiter walked away. “A Long Island, come now, Aaliyah. How old are you?”

“I believe…” Aaliyah laid the alcohol menu down as she worked to keep her voice low and level. “That I am old enough to make that effect my life without the judgmental looks from my family.”

“Mom, can you not?” Nissa asked, her voice low. “Not here. Please?”

“Why not here? It’s as good as any.”

“Because we don’t want any more attention,” Xander countered.

Aaliyah caught his glance around to the nearby tables to see a few of the people giving sideway looks at them. “They’re right, Pris. Not here. I’m willing to talk…”

“Then talk.”

Aaliyah pulled herself up straight at the raised voice that pulled more looks from the other tables. “I will not here.” A finger teased at the folded cloth napkin, exposing the steak knife. “Do you not think for one second that I would know better than to get involve with a director?” Two fingers continued to work at the napkin, freeing the knife. “I have better morals than you give me credit for, Priscilla. Do not lump me in with a portion of the Hollywood stars that view sleeping with higher ups is a good way to get better roles.”

She watched Pris stare her down from across the table, her fingers subtle movements touched on the knife handle and slid it back within her grasp. Aaliyah caught the anger that seethed just under the surface of her step mother, wanting to lash out at her.

“I knew taking you and Xander in was a mistake,” Pris said with a shake of her head. “This whole dinner was a mistake.”

Aaliyah caught movement behind Pris as she stood. It was the same guy from the assisted living building. He lifted one arm and traced a finger from wrist to crook of the elbow. Was it that simple to escape? It couldn’t be.

“Mom, just wait and listen,” Leo protested, his voice pulled Aaliyah back. “This wasn’t a mistake.”

Aaliyah looked down to the knife in her hand as her siblings worked to keep Pris at the table and not cause the scene to disturb the other diners. It was the knife or break a glass for a shard. The short blade was cool to the touch when she put it against her wrist. With a deep breath, Aaliyah closed her eyes and pressed the knife tip into her wrist. A trickle of warmth pooled at the point before rolling down the side. She mentally counted to three before sliding the blade up her arm. The hushed argument of her family continued at the table. Aaliyah opened her eyes to see them leaning over the table, unconcerned of what she had done. She put the knife in her other hand, blood seeping from the cut, and made the same cut on the other arm.

Her sight started to blur when Nissa turned to face her; someone from another table had seen the blood on Aaliyah. A voice urged Nissa to leave the table, that the mess wasn’t their problem. Aaliyah assumed it was Pris. Leave it to an imaginary step mother to just up and leave like Casey did. Aaliyah slumped forward onto to the table, her arms dangling at her sides. The knife eventually slipped from her loose hold onto the floor.

“Aaliyah, wake up,” Nissa pled, her voice distant. “Come on, sis. Not now.”

The more Nissa pled, Aaliyah swore that her voice grew closer. As if …

**

Aaliyah shot up gasping for breath. Someone gave a sigh of relief. She sat there on the bed, allowing her breathing to return to normal. A movement at her side brought her attention to Nissa; behind her was Leo tending to the recently deceased Djinn. Aaliyah moved an arm in an effort to stretch and saw IV lines attached to her.

“We thought we lost you for a second there,” Nissa said, working on removing the lines. “It was something we weren’t looking forward to with Xander and your friends.”

Aaliyah narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Friends?”

“Yeah. The one said his name was Plant. He and his FBI partner …”

Aaliyah huffed in amusement. “That’s Dean and Sam. How’d you forget about them?”

“FBI, remember?” Nissa pulled the last line free. “There, all good. How the hell did you get caught?”

Aaliyah rubbed the spots where the needles had been and shrugged. “I don’t know. Low point, maybe. How long was I missing?”

“A few hours. At first we thought you were on to something and didn’t wanna lose the trail.” Nissa shifted on the bed. “But when you didn’t come back … Something was wrong. We went through your journal and found the entry about the Djinn. Do you know how hard it is to find a silver blade and lambs blood in the middle of winter?”

Aaliyah’s head bobbed a little. “It’s tough finding them anywhere. So, you took it out with a blow to the head?”

“One of the best ways with any monster. Come on, I’m sure the others are worried.”

Aaliyah accepted the offered hand up off the bed and stepped over the blood stain. She followed after Nissa back to Xander’s room, smiling every time her sister looked back over her shoulder. She couldn’t blame Nissa for the constant reassurance that she was still there after the Djinn attack. A hand rubbed the spot that sported the double hand print of two Djinn as she walked into Xander’s room.

“Damn it, Liyra,” he cursed when she walked in. “Nearly gave us all a heart attack.”

“Love you too, Jerk face,” she shot back. “Nissa said Sam and Dean were here.”

“Yeah, but they headed off for another case once they were satisfied Nissa and Leo had the Djinn handled.”

Aaliyah nodded, the odd sense of relief washed over her. Part of her hadn’t been ready to see Dean again, but another wanted to make sure she wasn’t dreaming again.

“Tell you what, sis,” Xander broke into her thoughts. “Why don’t we all have a movie night? I’m sure there’s gotta be a store open that’s got some movies or something.”

She chuckled. “I doubt it, but I’ll look into it.” She moved over to Xander and kissed his cheek before ducking out.

In her path to the reception desk, Aaliyah heard a whistle low enough to blend into the background noise. Glancing around, she spotted Leo who gave her a nod. The Djinn had been disposed of quietly somewhere no one would find it easily.

“May I help you?” the receptionist asked.

“I know most places might be closed,” Aaliyah started. “But do you know if any movie places and stores would be open?”

“There’s the movie store down the street open until 3pm,” the receptionist answered. “And the dollar store closes at 4pm.”

“Thank you.” Aaliyah aimed back for Xander’s room.

[thefoldings]

One of Many

A new story! Bitemebat bought my fic offer for the Rupert Graves birthday auction run by the epic Wastingyourgum on the gravesdiggers blog. She asked for sweet fluff with Micah and Jasper involving this particular situation. 

This is a one-shot! The first Foldings one-shot, I think! And it is not “Ten Years Earlier,” either, so there may be kissing. Maybe the ghostly hint of something more. 

If you prefer to read it on AO3, here you go!

“Micah.” He waited until he was sure he had Micah’s full attention, and set his palms gently against Micah’s cheeks. “Darlin’. I love you. We can do whatever you’d like.”

Micah’s face twisted, his lips pressed together, brows scrunching down but then lifting over the bridge of his nose. “But…but you should like it, too.”

He could do this.

He could do this.

It was going to be fine.

He could do this.

He was married, for the love of Meg—Had been for two years now, too. This wasn’t their first anniversary. Two solid years of working together, sleeping together, living together…how much more pressure could there be after someone had seen you naked?

Lots, apparently.

Jasper paced the lab, absently straightening and rearranging things as he passed. It looked neater if the bottle with the longer pliers was at the back, but then he remembered Micah was working inside the new alembics and using those pliers a lot, so he returned it to its original position. Then he reversed the order, putting the short pot with the oil stubs on the end, but that just looked awkward. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paced some more, reminding himself that Micah wouldn’t even notice, he wouldn’t think about it, he’d glance and grab, and if it needed moving, he’d move it. It wasn’t that he didn’t care that Jasper tidied—Micah appreciated it on an almost obscene level and had said so, and he’d pointed out how much faster he worked after Jasper reorganised things. But there was a functional, helpful level of tidying, and then there was nervous fidgeting while he waited for his lover to return to their rooms after the last meeting of the morning on the fifth anniversary of having declared in public that they intended to be together for the rest of their days. 

Jasper was a positively tragic excuse for a human being.

He’d changed clothes, then changed back. After all, that morning he’d dressed a little better than usual for a morning of overseeing chores, cleaning the bakery pantry, and going over the kitchen accounts. Nothing fussy, but he’d taken his jacket off in the pantry. Then he’d come back upstairs, paced a bit, changed, realised he was dithering like an idiot, and still didn’t know what Micah himself might have in mind for the day. So he’d changed back. That was less pressure, wasn’t it? Micah had seen him this morning, he knew what Jasper was wearing. What if he came back up and saw Jasper in his fanciest formal gear, and felt awkward proposing they go to Micah’s favourite beach? Or what if Jasper greeted him wearing nothing but a rose, and Micah had hoped to whisk him away to a night at the theatre and the performance started in half an hour? Granted, it never took him as long to get dressed as it took Micah, but the way he was dithering, it’d take two hours just to decide what to wear.

He shook out his hands, jumped in place for a bit, and groaned. The hard part was over already—his gifts were perfect. Just thinking about them made him grin even now, while his heart was trying to squirm out of his chest. Stupid lump of meat. He banged at his chest with his fist, wondering if it responded to threats from other body parts, like if the hands and brain ganged up on it.

“Swallow wrong?”

Of course. Jasper gasped, stomping one foot hard before turning to see his bastard of a husband crossing to meet him, smiling. “You think you’re so clever,” Jasper muttered, taking two hurried steps to catch Micah up, setting his hands on Micah’s hips and hoisting him into the air, catching him in a tight hug.

“Well I actually am,” Micah said, feigning offence for only a moment before bending for a kiss, letting himself be held. “You think you’re so strong,” he added when they broke apart.

Jasper set him down on his feet. “Yeah, that’s all a lie. Mirrors. Lots of mirrors. So many mirrors.”

“I knew you weren’t null.”

He couldn’t have held back his grin if he’d tried. His heart was still a bit wriggly, but now he had Micah to look at, so everything would be all right. “Lies. All of it. I’m telling you.”

Micah just snorted and turned away. “Oh. Er, you’ve…” He waved a hand at the worktable.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jasper sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets again.

“I know you always say—”

“It’s all right, darlin’. How many times?”

“But—”

“But, but, but…” Jasper wrapped him into a hug again. “I’ve stopped apologising for tidying. And what was your end of the bargain, again? Remind me.”

“I’ll stop apologising for actually using my work space,” Micah sighed, not meeting Jasper’s eyes. 

“Yes, you will. And it won’t cost you a drop of blood.”

“It does hurt, though,” Micah said quickly.

“Yeah, same pain I get not apologising, though.”

“You’re right, I know, I know…”

“Okay, best way out of this is leaving the room,” Jasper said, releasing Micah and stepping back. “I’m dying to know. What’d you pick?”

“Ah.” Micah shifted a bit, drawing his arms back and stepping away. “We have a few choices—”

“I’m up for anything,” Jasper said quickly, flapping his arms uselessly at his sides. “Seriously. You name it, I’m happy. So long as I get to do it with you, I’m…delirious.” He couldn’t stop grinning. Why was he even trying? And that bright little hint of colour on Micah’s cheeks made it impossible anyway.

“Well, I’d thought of a few options,” Micah said, pausing, scratching his lip with his middle finger.

“Honestly, Micah, whatever you’d like.”

“I—yes. Well. I’m not really sure, now.” The same finger was now rubbing one eyebrow as he looked up, head tilted.

“Micah.” He waited until he was sure he had Micah’s full attention, and set his palms gently against Micah’s cheeks. “Darlin’. I love you. We can do whatever you’d like.”

Micah’s face twisted, his lips pressed together, brows scrunching down but then lifting over the bridge of his nose. “But…but you should like it, too.”

“I will. I’ll love it. Just don’t make me stay there alone. If there’s room for two, I don’t care. We could…curl up on a shelf in the wine cellar. Honestly.”

Jasper realised his heart had stopped squirming back around the time Micah had entered the room, and it suddenly made sense. He’d been so anxious a few moments ago, and since then, the only thing that had changed was Micah’s presence. Jasper hadn’t changed clothes (again), he hadn’t given Micah a single one of the gifts, he didn’t know where they were going or what they were doing. He’d received nothing that had alleviated any of his nameless worries, whatever they were, but then Micah had come in, and Micah was worried. Whatever it was that Jasper was so worried about was nothing next to seeing his husband in distress, no matter how ridiculous the reason. Micah was upset, therefore his job was comforting him. He had no time for his own body’s ridiculous predicament. All that mattered was calm—finding some, and giving it to Micah.

And, for that matter, what had he been worried about? He knew to his bones that Micah would love his actual gifts, and wasn’t too shy to ask Jasper to wear any particular thing in their wardrobes—or stop wearing it, either. He wouldn’t give a toss about any rearranging of accessories on the worktop. He simply wanted to make Jasper happy.

He slid his hands down Micah’s arms and grabbed his hips, pulling him close. “Hey. We spend all our days rushin’ around, taking care of everybody, then snatching our own minutes and moments around schedules. We only take a few days in a year to focus on us. The only thing we have to do right now is enjoy each other, right? And we both want that. So whatever you had in mind, whatever you’ve chosen, whatever decision you can’t make, it’s fine. All of it. If I’m somehow—and I cannot stress enough how stunningly unlikely this is—not in the mood for it, I will say so. But really, right now I’m just…so excited to see you. There was a time when both of us thought this was never gonna happen, remember?” He waved a hand between them, his wrist flopping loosely. “But we did it. We got it. Two years, Micah—two whole years. A couple of months of sheer lunacy, but we’ve made it. We’ve made it this far. And I still love you—” He paused, savouring the words, the chance to actually say them, remembering the time back when he’d somehow believed this glorious man wouldn’t be interested in him. His throat tightened, but even that just spread his grin wider for a moment. “I still love you, Micah. We’re always gonna love each other. And today is just…that. Nothin’ else. Doesn’t change, not gonna change, no matter where we go.” A happy thought occurred—no, an even happier one, to be honest. “It’s not like this is gonna be our only one, yeah? We’ve got loads more anniversaries ahead of us. Just…gobs of them. So if we get halfway to dinner and think, ‘oh, bollocks, wish we’d thought of that this morning,’ well, we’ll try that next year. Or the one after. Or the one after that.” He bit his lip and ducked his chin a little, coaxing Micah to meet his eyes steadily.

And Micah did, his skin now flushed an even, rosy pink, his eyes bright and wide, flicking back and forth between Jasper’s own. “You are, without a doubt, the sweetest human being I have ever slept with.”

Jasper snapped his teeth an inch away from Micah’s nose. “Ahh, bollocks to that. Come on, if you’re still undecided, how about we start with presents?” Jasper took a step back toward the door of his cupboard. He knew exactly what was about to happen.

“No!” Micah said, fervent, reaching out. “No, you know those come at the end!”

As Micah had insisted on every formal gift-giving occasion. Presents to be unwrapped came at the end of the day, sitting together, after they’d already done the active part of the day. Usually in bed. Jasper was fairly sure that that last part of the tradition had started with him, at least—he couldn’t imagine Micah somehow gathering all his closest friends around his own bed on the evening of his naming day.

“Y’know,” Jasper said trying to sound thoughtful, “Considering how these nights usually end, some might say you’re making the kissing bit at the end seem a little anti-climactic.”

“Oh, no,” Micah said, solemn, puzzled, baffled to the edge of hurt. “You have it backwards. We have a day of making memories, then gifts that are tangible souvenirs of the day and tied to those pleasant memories, anchoring them, and then the last is sharing the gift we always share, the one that’s always with us no matter where we are or what we’re doing. It isn’t less special for being constant, but it puts the day in perspective—memories are intangible, gifts might not last, but what we have, what we feel…” He waved his hand between their chests, unconsciously imitating the same gesture Jasper had made earlier. “This is with us forever.”

Jasper stood for a moment, just looking at this beautiful, clever, wise man who’d found him and fit into his life like the second beat of his heart. “We’d better get started, then,” Jasper finally said, his voice just as soft as Micah’s had been. “We’ve got ourselves a climax to build towards.”

He did change clothes: the gorgeous black suede coat that was becoming Jasper’s favourite thing—and people weren’t things, so that was fair—in the world, the tall black boots with ornate silver work matching the coat, a shirt so white it almost seemed to glow with a harsh light of its own, and a black brocade waistcoat that was worthy of being the centrepiece of any other outfit. Micah swirled a length of thin, dull grey silk around his collar that actually made Jasper frown, until he’d finished tucking and looping it into a strangely simple masterpiece under his chin, and settling Jasper’s locator crystal into the folds. He’d been a little in awe when he’d caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror. Maybe all the praise Micah flung at him wasn’t completely unwarranted. He looked like the sort of person he would have imagined at Micah’s side, a few years ago. 

Micah had worn a new suit of his own, the coat far more structured than his usual robes. Light blue silk shimmered with periwinkle when the light struck it right, trimmed in gold and darker blue. The colour swept down from a substantial collar to tails reaching low on his calves, and framed the white shirt with lace that made Jasper want to bite, and soft grey trousers above low grey boots. 

They’d strolled through some of the Dimnoson gardens, Jasper having to be stopped from stroking some of the flowers along the way. It wasn’t his fault that he’d never noticed the furry petals before, but after Micah showed him what happened to a pebble he threw into the soft burgundy folds, he was happy to stay away. 

Lunch at a hanging-pod restaurant had followed. Jasper watched as their cozy nest was dragged close enough to the boardwalk that they could step straight into the cushioned interior, and then it was carefully lowered back into place, swinging only gently. Tray after tray of small, simple dishes floated in with no intrusion from staff, gliding into place between them on the table that was barely a handspan higher than their “floor,” which was a lot more like an extremely generous mattress than it was any surface Jasper had walked on before. They scooped together piles of the other pillows and built their own supports, lounging next to each other, not lying and not sitting, legs stretched out but food in easy reach, able to trade bites and feed each other as the mood struck. Round glass walls gave them a spectacular view of the gardens they’d walked through. They’d spent a lazy few hours, nibbling and just talking with no interruptions in a way they never seemed to get to do at home.

After lunch was another stroll, this one along a rocky shoreline through a portal using settings Jasper had never seen before. It seemed to be morning, wherever they were, with the sun low on the horizon but inching higher. A rough, fresh breeze helped wake them up, and Micah watched for a while as Jasper flung pebbles into the waves from a low cliff, teasing the kelpies in the waves below into biting at the splashes. When Micah joined in, it grew competitive. They soon had the lithe, sinuous animals spinning in circles and almost knotting themselves in excitement, and then things devolved to Jasper and Micah bickering like children over who had more horse-heads circling below them. 

A gust caught Micah’s coat, flaring it around him and nudging him a step back from the cliff. Jasper fell silent, staring in awe at a creature more graceful than all the kelpies combined, and he wondered how he’d been so lucky. The white lace of Micah’s jabot fluttered up against his lips, the curl on his forehead falling loose as he tipped his head aside. When Micah looked over at the sudden silence, all Jasper could do was smile.

The ground was too sharply rocky for lying down on, so Jasper held him up against a wind-shaped tree, watching Micah’s back arch against the curves of the trunk, one arm draped along a branch as Jasper kissed and kissed and kissed some more. There was nothing urgent; it was gentle and patient, sweet and steady. It was enough of a pleasure for him to lead Micah along, bringing soft sounds from his smooth, pale throat until the light washed through Micah’s pores. He caught his breath against Jasper’s shoulder and Jasper simply held him, stroking his back for long moments as his breathing slowed. 

When they returned to Lunule, Micah took them through a short chain of portals that had them back at the castle before the smell of the sea air was gone from their clothes. 

“I had intended—a concert,” Micah admitted, toying with Jasper’s fingers as they strolled arm-in-arm through what was now known as “Jasper’s portal,” the one in the East Hall that led to the lab. 

“What time is the concert?” Jasper asked, all of his attention focused on the foot-and-a-half area that contained Micah’s face and fingers.

“Oh, nine o’clock. If I’ve regrown any bones in my body by then, that is. We’ve plenty of time,” he added, glancing at the late afternoon sunlight coming in the tall windows of the lab.

“Ohh, bones. Pff. Those are optional,” Jasper declared, flopping down on the bed and then crawling backwards to make room for Micah, who folded himself neatly at the edge. “It’s all the squidgy bits in the middle that do the work.”

Micah snorted, a grudging smile of amusement breaking through his flush of tenderness. “You know, for someone who grew up on a goat farm, your understanding of basic biological mechanics is astoundingly lacking.”

“No, because bones aren’t what keeps you alive. That’s all the squishy stuff. We’ve got animals without bones, right? Underwater things. All the squiggly ones. They’ve got no bones, but they do just fine.”

Micah laughed, tipping his head back, his eyes crinkling with it. “And to think you write up notes for a Vedouci. ‘Squidgy bits.’ ‘Squishy stuff.’ ‘Squiggly ones.’ Very erudite. Very learned.”

“You love my notes,” Jasper said, pulling him down onto his chest and holding him there. “You love everything about me, you pretty thing. Try to deny it.”

“No. I shan’t. I can’t.”

Jasper sucked a breath in through his teeth, staring at Micah in pure adoration as he felt his heart split apart, overwhelmed by the force of his love. “Darlin’, we are the two luckiest people alive, you know that?”

“The things you say…”

“That’s nothing to the things I wanna do.”

In spite of his words, they spent another hour simply lying in bed, chatting, kissing, and laughing, enjoying the luxury of time. Micah summoned tea from the kitchen, which arrived with unexpected extras.

“Is this a joke?” Jasper asked, seeing the tray floating toward them. He’d heard Micah specify tea, but all he could see were bowls as the tray was too far above their eye level, where they were reclining on a mattress on the floor.

“I’m not sure,” Micah admitted, flicking his finger at the tray. It lowered as it neared, and as the green appeared over the edge of a bowl like the sun over the horizon, Jasper began to grin.

“Playing at derbies again, eh?” 

Micah sat up, shaking his head as he caught the tray in his hands. He lowered it, giving Jasper a significant look. “No, I think this is all Sally’s own idea,” he said.

The broccoli florets were arranged as the greenery of a small tree. The trunk was a miniature loaf of bread, the crust scored and carefully painted with butter and egg to darken in the oven so that it looked like bark. The branches were smaller shards of bread fitted into slots in the trunk, and a tiny fringe of the smallest florets ringed the base, surrounded by a pâté of chicken tinted blue with Micah’s favourite blue apples. The small ducks sitting on the surface of the imitation pond intrigued Jasper.

“She holds back when she does the formal banquets, doesn’t she?” Micah murmured, touching the tips of the branches lightly with a fingertip.

“’Course,” Jasper said, plucking off one of the florets and dipping it into the pond, scooping up one of the ducks. He chewed carefully for a moment, considering the texture and taste before identifying it. “Rice. Toasted rice. That’s kind of lovely, actually.”

“But why?” Micah asked, carefully removing the branch Jasper had left behind and nipping off the end.

“They’re too big,” Jasper said, then wrinkling his nose at the inaccuracy. “No, it’s more…there’s all those people, and the food is either a detail, in which case stuff like this is overlooked in favour of dancing and politics and whatnot, or the food is a huge centrepiece, and something like this is too small to be noticed—like if she’s doing Pandora’s bedspread, or something. Or each plate is presented individually and there’s no way to do something this perfect on every single one.”

“She could do it on a few,” Micah said, a hint of sadness in his tone. 

“What do you mean?”

“She never really gets credit,” Micah said, settling back against Jasper’s upraised knee. “So many fine chefs in the city, and she is easily in the top tier, but she goes unrecognised.”

“Why does she need recognition?” Jasper asked, seeing where this was going and realising Micah still didn’t.

“Her reputation. She deserves more.”

“I see she’s paid pretty well, you know—”

“Oh, yes, I know that,” Micah said, waving his words aside. “But—”

“No, Micah, listen—she is paid well. And you’d better believe I make sure she gets the best from the markets, and we provide a lot of things from our own gardens and farms. If she wants the kitchens altered, I see that it happens. What use is a reputation, really? It’s to make sure you get what you want, really. And she does. Plus she’s not really a one for the crowd, remember? Happy to cook for one, but she’s not gonna get up in front of one to do it. She’s got a home she loves and the best staff I can get her. And she knows she’s appreciated.”

Micah hummed, thoughtful for a moment, digging up one of the ducks on a finger and admiring it for a moment. “I suppose.”

“Honestly, darlin’. She did this for us,” he said, pointing at the tree where it was listing across the pond now. “Just because she wanted to. That says a lot.”

Micah smiled finally and turned to the pot and cups they’d been ignoring. “I suppose. Let me know if there’s ever anything I can do for her myself, though, will you, Druhy?”

“I will, Vedouci.” 

The concert Micah had passed off so lightly turned out to be a performance by some of Jasper’s favourite singers. He knew it must have involved some conspiracy on Micah’s part, as not a single one of the pieces involved any kind of acoustic magic that Jasper couldn’t hear, yet it was a full house in the large auditorium at Grossman Hall. No one else seemed to notice the theme of the repertoire, and Jasper clutched Micah’s hand tightly right through to the end. 

Afterwards, Micah seemed in no rush to leave, tugging Jasper aside from the crowd washing toward the exits. He assumed they were simply avoiding the crush until Micah pulled him through a side door that lead not to the foyer, but into a quiet corridor. A woman in the formal staff uniform smiled as they appeared, and opened another door ahead of them which led, to Jasper’s surprise, up a short flight of stairs and into a loud, crowded press of a different kind.

The backstage area erupted into a louder buzz and people surged toward them. Micah let go of his hand and moved forward to take someone else’s, laughing.

“Thank you for coming, Vedouci,” a deep, rich female voice said, and Jasper blinked over his lover’s shoulder for a moment before believing that the star alto of the Lunule Opera was shaking his husband’s hand.

“That was amazing,” Micah told her. “Truly amazing. You should perform the whole of Vexité sometime soon.”

“I’ll see what I can do to encourage that,” she said. “After tonight, you may have some surprising luck, there.”

“I know the storyline is a bit complex, but it’s simply the most beautiful opera written. I don’t think I’ve ever loved it more.” He stepped aside, reaching back to take Jasper’s arm and lead him forward.

Jasper knew he was staring, but couldn’t have stopped if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t. The woman’s long, blue hair spilled over her broad shoulders in a mass of curls that reached her ample waist, and her smile widened amazingly as she reached for his hand.

“Śi Jasper, this is Śe Kinni fe Takka. Kinni, my Druhy of Foldings.”

Her hand was soft and warm, and Jasper had the urge to kiss it. He resisted only because he couldn’t stop grinning enough to manage it. “It is the greatest pleasure of my life to meet you,” Jasper said fervently, bringing his other hand on top of hers.

“I beg your pardon,” Micah said, drawing a laugh from her.

“I’m flattered and honoured, Druhy,” Kinni said, her eyes creasing happily. “Let me introduce you to everyone, please—or would you rather have that pleasure, Micah?”

Jasper glanced away from the greenest eyes he’d ever seen, too dazed to speak as he met Micah’s smiling gaze. “No, please, go ahead.”

Their dinner was a candlelit, cheerful party on the stage, where Śe Kinni fe Takka sat on his right and Micah sat on his left. The food was plentiful and so was the wine, and Jasper had to keep touching Micah’s knee as they ate, trying to convince himself that this was really happening. He was beyond delight when a discussion of possible future repertoire turned into an argument over favourites complete with demonstrations. Hearing Kinni arguing about popular music with Śe Dolpho, singer of “She Knows I’m in Love with You,” complete with imitations of each other, almost had him choking on his chocolate cake. 

Jasper was still grinning and babbling with excitement when they got home well after midnight. “I never even thought about Kinni fe Takka and Dolpho singing together before, and now… feck it, Micah—do you really think they’re going to do it?”

“The Opera isn’t above a little publicity,” Micah said mildly, already wearing his pyjamas as he gathered their clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket. “Casting Dolpho as the comic friend is absolutely possible. It might be ambitious to hope they give him the role of Numkha, but there’s no denying he has the range.”

Jasper wrapped his arms around Micah’s waist and dragged him onto his lap, kissing away his protests until Micah had stopped laughing and was kissing him back.

“Thank you for today,” Jasper said, staring into his lover’s smoky blue eyes. “Really.”

“I promise you, it was my pleasure. Entirely my pleasure,” Micah said softly, stroking Jasper’s cheek.

“Remember this morning?” Jasper ran his finger along Micah’s hairline at his temple, down the edge of his cheek and around his jawline. “We were both all nervous about today?”

Micah tipped his head and kissed Jasper’s finger. “I certainly was. You were all calm reassurance, as I remember.”

“Nah, I was a complete mess a minute before you walked in,” Jasper assured him. “I don’t even remem—oh!” He’d forgotten all about the gifts he had for Micah. “Wait here!”

“Where are you going?” Micah called plaintively after him.

“Just wait!”

Jasper came back with a large basket in his arms, letting Micah see the colourful bows topping the wrapped boxes jumbled inside. The blue eyes widened and Micah blinked for a moment before finding his voice. “Oh! I—Jasper, you needn’t…”

“Agreed.” Jasper set the basket beside him and crawled past him to the far side of the mattress. “I wanted to, though.”

It didn’t take much to coax Micah into opening them, and he was surprisingly vicious when shredding the paper around his gifts. He examined the clamps, callipers, and crucibles closely before making the connection and staring up at Jasper. “Where did you get these? They’re utterly amazing. Perfect. I’ve never seen work like this.”

“I knew what you needed better than anyone, I figured, so I…made them. With a bit of help from Nisko, of course.”

Micah’s eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together. “You… you made them?”

“Yeah.” Jasper knew he was blushing now, but it was worth it. “It just took so long trying to explain all the details, you know? And I knew what you liked, and what you were trying to do, so…” He shrugged and gestured at the small pile of tools. “There you go.”.

“When did you even have time?” Micah picked up the nearest square steel bowl, running his fingers along the surface and turning it over in his hands. “Jasper, the smoothness of this, the regularity… how?”

“A bit of patience, plus I have access to the best, remember?” 

Micah shook his head, his mouth opening and closing silently for a moment as he waved the crucible toward the lab, then gave up and set it inside the basket. “You are amazing,” he said weakly. “You’ve…amazing. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Jasper scooped the equipment up and dumped all of it into the basket on top of the crumpled paper, then pulled Micah back into his arms for the last time that day. “You’re the only daft twirl-artist in the whole of the worlds who’ll get teary-eyed over a couple of tools, you know that?”

“Fine. I am. I—thank you, my love. Thank you so much.”

“Happy anniversary, darlin’. Lots more to come.”

[jackoftradesmakescontent]

The Seven Friendly Sins Chapter 2

The sun rose on the horizon and Richard went through his morning ablutions. The first day of work. He knew he would be in rough shape for the day, so he packed plenty of energizing snacks and bucketloads of coffee and water.

With himself and his cat fed and watered for the day, Richard made to leave the house. Of course, Jade objected to her human abandoning her for more than a few hours. With his hand on the door and the cat sulking somewhere, Richard paused. He turned back into the house and called out.

“Hey! Be nice to Jade while I’m gone, alright?”

And then he was gone.

The drive to work passed in a haze of music, coffee, and asphalt. He was introduced to his coworkers, a theatre troupe’s technical support, and led on a tour. It was familiar enough that he was able to get the gist of what he needed even through the fog in his sleep deprived mind.

Before he could start the actual work of assembling the set for the theater’s upcoming play, his boss pulled him aside.

“Hey, just wanted to make sure you’re good today.” The scruffy man, Vincent his mind supplied, looked worried. “You look a bit rough.”

Richard waved him off. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

Vincent looked unconvinced, but let Richard go to work anyway. He was given easy, menial tasks, both as a first day hazing and no doubt due to the dark bags under his eyes. Counting and sorting screws and bolts by length and width, playing Tetris with the various hand and power tools to make them all fit snugly in their drawers, and similar tedious jobs that no one liked to do. Still, Richard felt that he had acquitted himself well for the circumstances. He bid the others goodbye as his shift ended. The drive home was identical to the drive to work, but in the opposite direction.

Jade, of course, greeted Richard at the door with an indignant yowl demanding attention. He crouched down to scratch the jet black cat behind her ears.

“Hey. Those nice ghosts keep you company while I was gone?” Jade purred under his ministrations.

“Yes we did.”

Richard swore, startled, and scrambled to stand. He darted his eyes back and forth, but there was nobody else in the hall with him. The voice had been a quiet murmur, but seemed to have been said right into his ear. He shook his head, pounding heart slowly returning to its usual beat.

“Well… Thanks.”

There was no response save Jade winding her way between Richard’s legs. He sighed, rubbing his face, and carefully walked his way into the kitchen, mindful of his cat underfoot.

Richard engaged in one of his more productive methods of stress relief: Baking. Before the day was out, there was a loaf of banana bread cooling on the counter, a rack of cookies stuffed full of chocolate, and a stack of fruit-filled pancakes getting buttered.

“Breakfast for dinner. Heh. Dad’d love to hear how I take after him.”

At the thought of his father, Richard caved in to the nostalgia and quickly fried up a few eggs to sandwich between the pancakes.

“There we go. Dad sandwich. Now where’d I put the syrup…” Richard began searching through his cupboards until he heard a scraping sound on the countertop. He saw the syrup bottle slide to a stop next to his plate of food. “Woah. Thanks. Man, who’d have thunk being haunted would be so nice?”

The only answer was the sound of furniture being upturned in the other room. Richard disregarded the crashes and thumps and tucked into his food. It was gone in an alarmingly short amount of time. He could feel a presence staring at him while he washed the dishes he had made. It was already late, and so, lulled by a stomach heavy with food and an arm full of purring cat, Richard fell asleep quickly.

The next day of work was much smoother. Rested and well fed, Richard was given more arduous tasks, which he accomplished with little fanfare. It was only when Richard was told to haul a toilet from one place to another that anyone commented on his work.

“You sure you’ve got that?” A short, blonde haired man asked. Richard racked his mind until it recalled his name: Cameron.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Richard grunted, hefting the full porcelain throne onto his shoulder.

“Don’t need a hand?”

“Nope. I’ve got it.” Richard began trotting to the place that the toilet was designated for.

“Man.” Cameron sighed. “You’re tougher than I thought. Where do you hide all that muscle?”

Richard shrugged, jostling the toilet enough that he had to stop and resettle it before moving on. “Under all the meat and cheese. I care more about food than I do about my figure. Plus, I’ve got a lot of leverage to throw around.”

“Fair enough, fair enough.”

They reached the platform that the toilet was to be bolted to and Richard set it down where he was directed. Cameron went to work setting the anchors while Richard moved on to the next job. The rest of the day was similar, Richard single handedly hefting eight foot tall panels of wood from one place to another, or helping to move heavy flooring to where it needed to go.

Richard’s muscles were sore when he got home that night, but it was a good ache. The burn of a day well spent. He was grateful for the food he had prepared yesterday to tide him over, even if was just bread.

Even still, tired from work and sated from dinner, Richard found that sleep would not take him. He shifted and turned as much as he could with one arm pinned beneath Jade. Finally, thinking that night would be another sleepless one, Richard made to extract his arm from his cat. However, Jade was being stubborn, and staunchly refused to let up her cushion.

Richard was making to pull Jade off of his arm, but he felt a breeze tousle his hair. Something whispered in his ear, and finally Richard felt his eyes droop under the weight of sleep. He lay himself back down and was vaguely aware of the sensation of fingers running through his hair, and judging by Jade’s purring she was experiencing something similar. The rest of the night passed in sleep.

Richard absolutely did not want to get up in the morning. The blankets weighed heavy on his limbs and he felt as though the mattress was swallowing him up in its soft embrace. However, Jade insisted that she needed to be fed, and so Richard dragged himself from the confines of his bed. The blankets clung to him as far as they could stretch before falling limp onto the floor.

Through the haze of restless sleep, Richard began preparing his breakfast after giving Jade her own. He was chopping an apple, paying little attention to the action and letting muscle memory perform the task for him. This lack of oversight lead to Richard nicking one of his fingers with the knife. It took a few moments for Richard to process this while he continued to chop the apple, but his attention was drawn to it when the knife was yanked out of his hand.

Richard’s head snapped to follow the knife as it went whizzing through the air. “Hey!” The bloodied blade was spinning and bending, dancing in the kitchen. “Hey hey hey hey hey!” Richard grabbed the cutting board, scattering the apple slices, and started swatting at the knife while it tried to shake itself apart.

Eventually Richard walloped the knife hard enough to slam it into the floor. He quickly pinned it underneath the cutting board with his own prodigious body weight. It was still struggling to free itself. “Quit it! Are you trying to kill someone?” The knife gave an extra violent tug, but Richard had it well trapped. “Keep this up and I’m grabbing Jade and going to fetch Miriam, you got me?”

The knife finally stilled. Warily, Richard slipped his hand under the cutting board and gripped the handle. When it didn’t resist, he pulled the utensil out and put it and the board on the counter.

“You fuckers try this shit around Jade and I exorcise this house. I don’t care if you try to pull something on me, but I will make sure you all suffer if you so much as pull a whisker off of my cat.”

The whole house gave a shudder, then fell still.

Sighing, Richard turned back to where he left his apple only to find a blood smeared mess. He checked his finger and only then began to feel the throbbing of the cut along the breadth of his pointer finger, sheeting blood over his hand. He surveyed the room and realized that in his wild swinging at the flying knife, he had flung droplets of his vital fluid all over the kitchen.

Richard dialed his boss and held the phone against his ear with his shoulder while he washed and bandaged his hand.

“Hey Vince, I’m gonna be late today. Had a bit of an accident and I gotta clean it up. Nah, I’m fine, but it made a mess that’s only gonna get harder to clean if I leave it. Alright. Yeah, see you in a bit.”

It took the better part of an hour and most of a roll of paper towels before Richard deemed the kitchen clear of blood spatters, though the walls, counters, and floor bore numerous nicks and scratches from where the knife glanced off of them. He had bandaged his finger and went to work, which was made a bit aggravating from the sensitive appendage, but he worked through it, going late to make up for his tardiness.

On the way home he visited a nearby restaurant supply store and bought garlic, sage, purified salt, and pure silver tableware. He made sure to leave them in his car so that the ghosts in the house could not get to them.

The view when he entered his house was downright childish.

A giant 6 6 6 was drawn in what looked and smelled like blood on the kitchen wall.

Richard sighed, flipped out his personal knife, and slashed across his palm. With the welling blood, the owner of the house improved the smudges on the wall.

It now read 69 69 69.

If the ghosts in the house were going to be childish, Richard was glad to reciprocate. Though cutting his palm was, perhaps, a tad impulsive.

“Today really hates my hand, doesn’t it?” Richard muttered to himself as he bandaged his hand. His first aid kit was in a bathroom, and upon returning to the kitchen, there was a new addition to the blood stained wall. It was also written in blood, but in a much more angular and graceful handwriting.

‘Nice’ the note read.

[joulethieves]

👉👉👉 Number 9 for BOTH ask posts. All 4 charas/balvaan are non-negotiable.

9 [Headcanon Meme]: General Physical Contact:

Fran -

“Be still, Balthier,” Fran chides, her long elegant fingers flitting across her partner’s in calculated observance. Beneath her touch, Balthier seethes and tenses. 

“Do move along, then, would you? Ah–” Another hiss of discomfort. He hates to sass her given the circumstances he needs her help (when does he not, really), but by Ultima the splinter lodged into his finger is likely the size of a Salikawood root and no that’s not an exaggeration Fran.

The spiking throb in his hand is not much compared to the icy look she gives him here. “You will do best to practice patience. Deep, is this, and was your folly.” Her long nails press along the tired redness of his calloused hands for an easy way to pry the splinter from the flesh. Around them, lazy dust motes float aimlessly in the warm sunbeams weaving through the trees. Her touch is soft but only he knows the hardness with which they possess, her hands curved around the stock and foregrip of a crossbow or haft of a spear.

“Ow!” Balthier gripes loudly with no qualms to his partner’s ears. He bites his lip as he feels a sickening slide of wood from his flesh, and the familiar warmth of cure magic following. She spoils him, he thinks. Balthier sighs in relief, presses his thumb to the finger experimentally. “My thanks, Fran.”

“A souvenier,” she says, holding up the thin spike of wood to the sun. “I shall add this to the tally of your debt.” Her smile is in her eyes. Balthier’s is on his lips when he responds.

“I am forever in your debt, my dear. This is no news.”

Balthier -

“The theatre is a touchy-feely place. Now touch each other.”

Ffamran’s drama teacher at the Akademy always has the best quips, and the fifteen year old can’t hide his grin at rehearsal today. All in all, this is a place he can be most himself, delving into the roles of others, the worlds of others, the lives of others. He watches his fellow castmates struggle with the forbidden boundary of physical contact the Empire preaches so vehemently against in the minds of youths, and here, the drama professor attempts to beat it out of them. And if they’re going to put on a good show, may as well. With his feet propped up against the back of a chair in the near-empty theatre (against his professor’s strict command, but he is several seats up staring at the stage, so what does he know) Ffamran grins. The scene before him that his classmates are rehearsing is an impassioned dance scene of two star-crossed lovers in disguise at a ball, with just this one night to make last. 

And, with how far away they’re apart in this awkward dance, Ffamran wagers the only thing lasting will be the laughter from the audience. No, no. This simply won’t do.

Ffamran stands and walks down the aisle towards stage right, and his professor eyes him. “Ffamran. Your father bred you into ballroom dance. Care to help these two out?”

Ffamran grins. “I’d be delighted. Here,” and he walks up the stairs to join the two teenagers. He grabs the boy’s wrist and yanks him away from the girl with poorly-masked impatience he cares not to smooth over, “Let me show you how it’s done.”

He pulls her close, the crinkle in his eyes holding a smugness that doesn’t ever quite leave from that moment on.

Penelo - 

Night terrors plague the orphan and oft she is left ripped from her sleep by the sounds of her own screams. For long, she wakes alone in a room above Migelo’s Sundries, and shivers despite the dry desert warmth until sleep finds her again whether she wants it to or not. 

When Vaan returns from Lowtown after a six month leave of absence, after she thought he was dead, after Migelo refused to let her go down to the Lowers after the Imperials littered the streets and cast angry Rabanastrans down below, the first thing they do is push the two modest cots together to make one “big” bed. And the first night he is back, freshly bathed and finally fed after Faram-knows-how-long, she wastes no time wrapping herself around her friend’s middle like a vice. She feels his abdomen reverberate as he chuckles. 

“Pen, if Lowtown didn’t kill me, you just might.”

Penelo squeezes harder. “I thought you were dead. I’m gonna hug you like this, get over it. Also, you’re a good little spoon.”

But there’s nothing to get over, and they fall asleep just like that, like they will every night.

Vaan -

“Y’know, once you guys start becoming sky pirates, I’m gonna have to start charging you for this,” Vaan grins as he lifts a Lowtown orphan no older than seven from the ground by her arms and plops her above his shoulders. She squeals in delight. 

“Take me to the uppers! Let’s go! I wanna show Penelo how tall I am!” she demands, tiny dirty hands gripping his flaxen locks with more force than necessary but he doesn’t complain. 

“Roger that, captain,” Vaan responds, holding her thin ankles with his hands before taking off. Behind him, the shouts of other orphans call down the magicite-lit alleys of Lowtown.

“Come back soon! Me next! I wanna go to the fountain!”

At Migelo’s, Vaan kicks the door open and bounces in with the girl bobbing on his shoulders in child-light squeals. “Pen, look how tall Lotto’s grown!”

Penelo wants to say something about not kicking doors open of the shop where they live for free but instead just stares up at Lotto, who is smiling down at her with a gap-toothed grin. 

“Wow! How’d she do that! She must be eating her vegetables, huh.”

Both orphans before Penelo scrunch up their noses. “Ew, no way!” they both say in unison, and Lotto collapses onto his head in a fit of giggles. Vaan squeezes her ankles and winks at Penelo. 

“Anyway, gotta run. I have a few more passengers to pick up.”

“Mind the door, would you, Vaan?”

“Man, that’s a nice door,” he comments before kicking it open. He’s dashing down the street, childish giggles in his wake. 

9 [Domestic Meme BalVaan]: Do they act different when they’re in private/public?

Balthier’s limbs splay langoriously about the rickety seating in the Whitecap as he nurses his Madhu, Fran opposite him. Too long has it been since they’ve stepped foot in Balfonheim and he can say with some fondness that he’s missed it. Long has their journey been and long will it continue to be - back in the web of sea and sky pirates makes him feel a bit like his old self, before ugly wrought faces of the past decided to snake themselves back into his happy life of sin and debauchery. 

Speaking of sin and debauchery, Balthier wonders where the errant street-orphan that burrowed his way like an insistent little sandbug into his bed last night is up to on their first afternoon in the city of pirates. He thinks of the night prior, and the Madhu isn’t the only reason he’s grinning into thin air. My, a lithe boy indeed. He’ll have to thank Penelo for teaching Vaan to bend like that, no doubt. 

“Ah,” Fran’s lilted voice pulls him from his reverie, which he also must thank her for, because blood was running south fast at the memory, “it does not take him long to find the heart of Balfonheim.” Fran is looking down from their balconied perch at the door, and Balthier follows her gaze to land right on said errant street-orphan. Balthier chuckles at the sight as Vaan enters. Why, he can nearly see the boy’s heart hammering out of his chest with the pure adrenaline of it all. He’s nearly beside himself, mouth agape in a toothy grin, head turning left and right as if he were a hatchling chocobo fresh out of the nest. How cute. Balthier watches and thinks to beckon him up, but nay - Vaan has an awful knack for finding him whether or not he wants to be, it won’t be long until–

Oh.

Oh no.

Balthier nearly knocks over a chair in his haste to stand as he watches a group of nearly five burly sea pirates approach the sunkissed Dalmascan immediately with a bodily interest nothing short of licentious. Oh dear oh no this is not to happen, Balthier thinks as he weaves with little grace or regard through the packed tavern. How foolish he was to think Vaan would not be immediately regarded as - well, there are lots of plundering jokes to be made, let’s just say that.

By the time Balthier pushes aside a burly Bangaa pirate that snarls at him, he has reached a wall of muscle. A wall of five heaping hunks of muscle, adorned with tattoos and reeking of fish. Their backs are to him as they surround Vaan and why are they so tall? Suddenly Balthier is reminded why he hates sea pirates. Not a subtle lot, are they.

“I’m Vaan!” he hears Vaan say in a response over the backs of the oafs before him.

“Vaan, eh? New here, are ya? We’ll have t’show you a-”

“Ah, Vaan.” Balthier’s voice is a smooth ripple over the clanging cacophony of their choppy diction. Just because they live on the sea doesn’t mean they must sound like it. Rough and tumble, too much for his liking. Balthier slides through the sea pirates like ice across glass, and hooks an arm around the boy’s shoulders, tugging him close, very close. “Was wondering what took you so long. Come, let us drink.” 

“Huh?” Vaan grunts, and Balthier can feel five pairs of eyes narrow on their forms. 

“Bah,” one says. “Balthier always gets the pretty ones.”

Balthier wagers he should recognize the voice but cares not to rifle through the files of his memory and place why exactly he knows any sea pirate personally. He writes off the recognition as a mere stamp of his glorious reputation, and leans his head against Vaan’s. His eyes flit across his newfound audience and he grins.

“Sorry lads,” he says in a way that implies he most certainly is not. “Finders keepers and all.” And here, he presses his lips to the crown of Vaan’s sunsoaked flaxen hair. “Come along, Vaan.”

“Huh?” he says again as Balthier drags him off. “Hey, I was making friends. Did you see that one guy? He had a freaking eyepatch.”

“Vaan,” Balthier continues, guiding him up the stairs to where Fran waits with a grin, “You’ve a lot to learn about what friends mean to men stuck with only each other on a boat in the middle of the Naldoan Sea for months on end. You can thank me for teaching you the easy way.”

[hamilficsfordays]

New Beginning—Chapter Seven: Off Her Meds

Disclaimer: I try to display the struggles of an abuse victim as accurately as I can.

Also posted on Ao3

Summary: Lin and Vanessa get a sense of what Alexa is like when she’s not on her medication.

Rating: M for language, mentions of cutting/self-harming, mentions of sexual abuse of a child, mentions of rape.

Words: 6932 (Ah yes, the return of comically long chapters)

Askbox / Masterlist / Chapter Six / Chapter Eight

Tags:

@promisesandmore @justanotherfanficreader

They got lunch, picked up her prescription and headed home together. Her Zoloft was prescribed to take once a day in the morning, leaving her without medication until the next day.

Lin elected to watch The Little Mermaid in lieu of turning on the news when they got home, a welcome distraction from the constant talk about their family. Seeing her curled up on the couch in a blanket for the first time in a long time, he took to twitter.

@Lin_Manuel: You are so loved and SO important.

@Lin_Manuel: The Miranda family needs to take a personal day.

The second tweet included a photo, a shot of Alexa on the couch and highly engrossed with what was on TV.

As he continued to scroll through twitter, a few news outlets had released the information that the four boys seen on video the night of the assault had been released from custody and given a trial date. Though he was relieved they would be put on trial, the thought of them being out in the open was disappointing. Alexa didn’t notice his reaction to this news, as her eyes never left the TV.

As the day went on, one constant remained: she never left the couch. She was fixated on the screen. She didn’t speak, she didn’t even shift, just remained in the same spot. Breathing; existing.

“I think I should take her to work with me,” Lin whispered into the phone from his office, calling Vanessa who was still at work to express his concerns.

“Is she still out there?”

Lin peeked out of his room and into the living room. “She hasn’t moved an inch.”

“Maybe this is how she processes.” she offered. “It’s the first time she’s been with us in a while. She could just be re-adjusting.”

“I mean, it can’t hurt to get a distraction, can it? I’m worried about her. I’ve never seen her like this.”

“Are you sure you want to bring her there, though? It’s kind of an overwhelming environment.”

Lin shook his head. “It’s a place full of people who love and support her. She can hang back in my dressing room during the show. It’s just something else to do.”

Vanessa shrugged. “I guess.”

He hung up and stepped back out into the living room only to find Alexa in nearly the same position she was in before, this time holding one of Sebastian’s stuffed animals—a purple octopus.

“Hey Gen, what do you say we—oh.” he paused, taking in this new development. “Is that Sebastian’s?”

She tossed the toy across the room, it landing on the tile without a sound.

“Why can’t I remember anything about that night?” she asked, staring at the floor. “I thought being in familiar surroundings would help jog my memory but it hasn’t.”

“Come with me to the show tonight.” he offered, unable to answer the question. “Everyone wants to see you. They miss you.”

After a long pause, she stood up, pulling the blanket off of her shoulders.

“I should change.” she finally said.

“Maybe we should change your bandages too.” he offered, reaching for her arm.

“No, don’t touch me!” she pulled her hand away. The look of concern on Lin’s face centered her a bit as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I mean, they’re fine.” she insisted. “They put on new bandages right before I left the hospital. I’ll just change my clothes and we can leave.”

-

At the theatre, it seemed like everyone in the cast was so happy to see her again. They all greeted her with a smile or a hug, expressing how excited they were to have her back.

She had missed Lin’s dressing room, practically sprinting to the couch as soon as they got in. He laughed at the sight of her lounging as he set his stuff aside.

“I can’t wait to spend three hours playing Red Dead Redemption while you work your ass off out there.” she quipped. “That’ll probably be the fondest memory I have of this place whenever you decide to leave.”

“Sounds good to me. I have to work on Moana stuff in the meantime, so you’ll have to keep the sound off.”

Moana was an upcoming Disney animated film that Lin had been hired to help write songs for. He usually spent a few days a week working on Moana a few hours before Hamilton, leaving Alexa to her own devices if she was with him.

She turned on the Xbox and television, making sure it was muted before spending an hour focused on the game. Lin had his headphones on, hard at work.

After an hour, the effects of deciding not to eat before leaving the house were haunting her as her stomach cried out in protest.

“Hey Lin,” she paused the game, glancing over at him. With his headphones on, he heard nothing.

There was a t-shirt of his nearby on the floor, which she balled up and tossed at him to get his attention.

“Wha—what?” he turned around in his chair, pulling his headphones off.

“Why didn’t you tell me to eat before we left? I’m starving.” she reminded him.

“I wasn’t sure I could get you to move, let alone eat.” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and took out a $20 bill, handing it to her along with his key card for entry back into the building. “Just get something and come back.”

Outside, there was already two lines of fans, one waiting on cancellation tickets, the others waiting to be let inside. Alexa passed by without a second thought, surprised when several of them called out her name.

She approaches a group of teenage girls cautiously. “You know who I am?”

“You’re Lin’s daughter.” one of them said.

“Everyone knows who you are.” another confirmed. “You’ve been all over the news since that guy like, sexually assaulted you.”

Alexa could hear her heart beating in her ears. She couldn’t manage an answer.

By now, most of the nearby fans in the line had caught wind of the conversation and were paying attention.

“What happened to your arms?” someone else asked, directing to the bandages on her wrist. “Did you self-harm?”

“Oh… uh—”

“That can’t be it.” the first girl said. “I would never even think about self-harming if I was her. I would like, die of happiness if Lin and Vanessa were my parents.”

The group of girls agreed.

Feeling incredibly overwhelmed, Lex turned away and headed down the street without a response. She grabbed one of her forearms, suddenly incredibly self-conscious of her bandages among the sea of Hamilton fans.

There was a food truck at the far end of the block that she headed to, ordering a lamb gyro and patiently waiting for it to be prepared.

As the man in the truck prepared her food, he stared at her regularly as if he’d seen her before. She wasn’t exactly comfortable with it, but only a block away from the theatre, she didn’t feel unsafe.

He finished her food and wrapped it up, taking her money and handing it the wrap to her.

“I know you!” he said as she began to walk away.

“What?”

“Yes, I see you all over the news! You’re the orphan girl! The white man raped you.”

Alexa looked down, embarrassed before starting to walk away.

“Don’t be sad!” he called out. “The white man rape everyone!”

Her heart was pounding fast again, her free hand balling into a fist. She had a sudden urge to scratch her forearms that her bandages prevented. She started to wonder if they were there for more of a preventative reason than a healing one.

As she walked back into the theatre, a few more fans called out her name. She ignored them—two incidents of being known as “the girl who got raped” was more than enough. She headed upstairs to Lin’s dressing room with change, which he rejected.

“No it’s okay, keep it. Hey, are you okay?”

The distraught look on her face caused his concern, a face she then tried to mask.

“What? No. I mean, yes. I’m fine.”

“Did something happen outside?” he pressed.

“I’m gonna go eat this in the kitchen.” she took the food with her downstairs to the kitchen area where a long empty table was waiting.

She couldn’t get the incidents from earlier out of her mind.

I’m a joke she thought. A product of my tragedy.

Coming to terms with this managed to suppress her appetite. She tossed the food in the trash can nearby before waiting a few minutes and heading back upstairs.

-

Lin prepared to head onstage and left fo places at seven, leaving Alexa behind in his dressing room.

Being alone wasn’t easy for her, as her thoughts became all too consuming voices in her head. She couldn’t shake the idea that everyone in the city knew her as some kind of tragedy. The feeling was harsh, upsetting, triggering. She desperately wanted to cut her bandages off and tear into the skin on her arms like she’d done before so many times but forced herself to resist the urge for as long as possible.

Toward the end of the first act, she found herself tapping on the desk in Lin’s dressing room furiously to fight her impulsive need for self-harm.

“Shit… fuck… fuck!”

Without medication, it was hard not to snap. Finally, she left the room, pushing past crew in the small hallway and into the costuming room. There was a table of supplies near the door, a pair of scissors close by.

When she returned to the dressing room, she opened the scissors and made a weak attempt at tearing her bandages off. When that failed, she began using her teeth to tear them off. Just then Jonathan Groff entered, still in costume from being onstage. Stepping into the dressing room to head to his own, he spotted Alexa sitting in the chair in front of the mirror and furiously scratching her forearms. There were spots of blood dripping onto her clothing as she reopened wounds that hadn’t yet healed, tears falling from her eyes while she sobbed periodically.

“Oh my god, Alexa, stop—”

He tried to deter her, distract her without getting too close. As if she couldn’t hear him, she pressed on. More blood, more tears. She was fighting every voice in her head by scratching harder, desperately trying to make her negative thoughts vanish.

“Oh shit…” Jonathan backed up to the door then, running out to look for someone, anyone to help.

Non-Stop had just started onstage, the music blaring over the backstage speakers and drifting behind the curtains.

He spotted Jasmine near one of the wings speaking to Anthony, who had just come off-stage from his final scene in the first act.

“Jas,” he pulled her away and toward Lin’s dressing room. “I need your help.”

Anthony followed close behind.

“What is it?” she asked, trying to pull her arm away.

“It’s Alexa. I don’t know how to help, but she won’t stop scratching her arms and there’s blood everywhere—I don’t know what to do.”

Jasmine stopped protesting and rushed ahead of Jonathan as they headed upstairs to Lin’s dressing room.

Alexa was still scratching when they came in, causing more damage alongside the scars that were there from beforehand.

“Lex…” Jasmine carefully approached her, softly placing a hand on her shoulder. “Honey, you need to stop scratching your arms.“

Another sob erupted from the teenager’s chest as she continued to forcibly irritate her skin with no end in sight.

From the doorway, Anthony and John were watching closely.

“Jas, just grab her arms and stop her.”

“I don’t want to hurt her… or end up getting hurt,” she confessed.

The first act was nearing its end.

“Anthony, go find Lin as soon as he gets offstage,” she instructed, prompting him to run off to Lin’s exit point just in time for the song to end. There was a thunderous applause from the audience as the lights cut out, all of the actors headed in separate directions.

Anthony grabbed Lin as soon as he came through the door and rushed him toward the older man’s dressing room.

“Woah, what’s going on?”

“It’s Alexa.” was all he said.

Lin became suddenly frantic, following his co-star back to his dressing room.

Jasmine moved away toward the door when she saw Lin rush toward Alexa. He kneeled in front of her, holding onto both of her arms to force her to stop. There was blood staining his hands and the white cuffs of his costume, but he didn’t pull away.

She continued crying, burying her face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

“What is wrong with me?” she managed between sobs. He stroked her hair, shushing her in the hope that she’d eventually calm down.

By now most of the cast had gathered in the doorway watching this occur. He carefully shut the door to all of them, leaving only him and Alexa in the room.

There was plenty of blood on his costume at that point, though he was not deterred. After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door before the stage manager carefully opened it.

“Lin…” he whispered. “We just need to know if you’re going on in the second act. Javi’s on standby if you want to leave, but we’re 10 minutes to places and we need an answer now.”

Alexa hadn’t let go of him and seemed to have no desire to do so. She was shaking, her breath uneven.

He bit his lip, hesitant for a moment.

“I’ll leave.” he finally decided. “Put Javi on for act two.”

-

Within minutes, Lin had changed out of his costume. They used clean pieces of fabric from the costuming room as temporary bandages for Alexa’s wounds and they were in a cab headed uptown just after act two began.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” he asked, once they were safely headed home.

She was staring out the window, focused on the passing lights outside. She grabbed his hand for support before explaining the crowd outside and the guy in the food truck who had both managed to trigger her.

She could feel tears welling up in her eyes yet again.

“What the fuck.” she finally groaned, covering her face.

“I’m sorry,” he tried. “If I had known they would be there—”

“How is it fair that they know more about what happened to me that night than I do?” she demanded, her hands curling into fists.

“It’s not.” he conceded, rubbing her back supportively. “But this too shall pass. I think we all just need sleep.”

-

At home, Vanessa was already asleep.

Lin had gathered the hydrogen peroxide and bandages from the cabinet in the bathroom and prepared to tend to her wounds over the sink.

With his hair pulled back, he carefully removed the cloth covering her arms and poured the peroxide over the affected areas, letting it rid of any remaining bacteria.

Alexa was quiet, her face still red from crying beforehand.

After some silence, Lin offered a small smile.

“I know it’s hard,” he started. “I don’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but I also know that you can fight. You’ll come out stronger on the other side.”

She sighed. “I’m tragedy-prone.”

“You are absolutely not.” he insisted, drying her arms off.

“You didn’t know me before I came here. Every person in my life might as well have been competing on who could fuck me up the most.”

He started to wrap a bandage around one of her arms.

“Well, you coming to live with Vanessa and me was no tragedy.”

“I know.” she nodded. “It almost feels like I don’t deserve it.”

“Lex,” he paused, making eye contact with her. “You deserve nothing but the absolute best. Just because you haven’t gotten it doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

“I deserved to get raped. That’s why it happened, isn’t it?”

“What happened to you happened because a bunch of immature, poorly-raised teenage boys couldn’t get girls to actually go on a date with them so they had to drug someone just to do anything. That was not your fault and you certainly did not deserve it.”

He finished bandaging one arm and started with the other.

“It’s hard not to feel that way sometimes, though.” she pointed out.

“Well, that’s something for us to work on then, isn’t it?”

He finished with the bandage and kissed the top of her head.

“You’ll come out on the other side of this, okay? You will, I promise.”

She nodded once in response.

“In the meantime, get some rest. Things will be easier to process once you’ve gotten a good night’s sleep.”

Lying in bed that night, however, Alexa couldn’t even consider rest.

As curiosity mixed with anger, she pulled out her laptop and searched for answers about what happened to her that fateful night.

Anger became horror as she was immediately presented with evidence—dozens of photos and videos of her being violated.

Horror kept her up through the night, tossing and turning as her mind clouded with the images.

The next morning, she trekked into the kitchen exhausted and still haunted by the images from last night. The bandages around her forearms had small spots of blood on them as reminisces of the night before. Lin was feeding Sebastian in his high chair and Vanessa was cooking over the stove. She turned the heat off when Alexa came in, hugging her suddenly.

It was the first time she’d seen the teen since her return. Though V was clearly excited to see her, Lex froze, unwilling to touch her foster mother let alone hug back.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Lin questioned, seeing the bags under her eyes. “You look exhausted.”

“I am not a product of my environment, but a product of my expectations.” she stated, rather poetically, in response.

It grabbed the attention of both parents.

“Are you okay?” Vanessa asked.

“Do you know how many videos there are of me getting raped online?” she managed through a yawn.

Their concern grew exponentially.

“You really shouldn’t watch that.” Vanessa insisted. “I don’t think that’s healthy—”

“I needed to know.” she insisted, flat. “No one was being honest with me. Everyone is afraid of scaring my or hurting my feelings. You have no idea what I went through before I even met you. I needed to know what happened.”

“We just put your breakfast on the table,” Lin announced, attempting to change the subject.

He pointed her toward the dining room. Sure enough, there was a lone plate in front of one of the chairs with eggs, bacon and half a bagel on it, a bowl of fruit and a glass of orange juice beside it.

While she headed over, Lin pulled a pill bottle from one of the cabinets and followed her.

She sat in front of the meal, still warm, as he sat beside her. He opened the bottle, sliding one pill out and placing it on the napkin her utensils were resting on.

A sigh followed.

“It’s for your own good.” He kissed the top of her head. “You’ll feel a lot better, I promise.”

She picked it up slowly, placing it on her tongue before taking a swig of orange juice to wash it down.

“Good.” he nodded. “As long as you take your medication every day, things should be back on track by the time school starts next week.”

Though Alexa was hesitant to restart her routine medication, she could admit that things were looking up. Her sleep was more consistent, she had stopped self-harming, and her mental health had improved overall. She felt happier. So much so that when it was time to take her meds a week later, she figured missing a day wouldn’t be a big deal. It was the same Saturday she had agreed to go on a shopping trip with Vanessa, who was eager to improve their relationship and ecstatic to do something together. Lin was attending a formal, red-carpet event that evening, leaving Lex and Vanessa on their own. Vanessa’s mother happily agreed to babysit Sebastian while they were out.

After a short time, Vanessa quickly realized that “We can go wherever you want.” may not have been the best thing to say as they headed out.

Alexa was opting for only the most expensive, high-end stores on the Upper East Side.

Vanessa stayed silent for fear of upsetting her daughter, but her credit card limits were becoming concerning the more Alexa spent.

Still, the teen had never been so happy and upbeat around her. She didn’t want to mess that up.

-

After several stores and several thousands of dollars spent, they headed into a Valentino store when Alexa saw a red gown displayed in the window that she thought was gorgeous. She asked an associate to remove it so she could try it on.

There were small dressing rooms at the back of the store covered by curtains, one of which Alexa stepped into with the gown in hand.

Vanessa began conversing with the associate while her daughter was changing.

In the dressing room, Alexa was infatuated with the dress. The long sleeves covered the bandages on her arms—a feature she was particularly fond of. The dress boasted a low neckline and was particularly slimming. She didn’t need much convincing to purchase it.

There was a tag hanging off the back of the dress that displayed an atrociously high price. One that she certainly couldn’t afford, and one that she was sure Vanessa couldn’t either.

Peeking out from behind the curtain, she could see Vanessa and the associate distracted looking at scarves.

Thinking quickly, she grabbed a pair of shoes from the many shopping bags that she’d carried in, slipping them on to replace her black flats. She grabbed her purse, leaving the other shopping bags behind and quietly made her way from the dressing room to the front door. She sprinted out, hailing a nearby empty cab and rushing into it.

An alarm went off by the door, alerting Vanessa and every sales associate that something had happened.

Vanessa glanced back at the dressing room, seeing an open curtain revealing Alexa’s clothes from earlier among a large group of shopping bags.

“Oh no…” her voice trailed off when she realized what Alexa had done.

“Ma’am, you’re going to have to pay for that dress.” the associate beside her was adamant. “If you don’t, we’ll have to call the authorities.”

Approaching the register, Vanessa could feel her hands shaking.

“Your total is seventeen eighty-four.” The young female associate held out her hand for a form of payment.

“Seventeen hundred?” Vanessa questioned, hopeful.

“Seventeen thousand.”

V pulled out her wallet, handing the female associate a credit card. She swiped it through, handing it back to the older woman.

“Declined.”

She pulled out another card, only to have the same result. A different male associate approached the two of them, asking what the concern was.

“Just call the police.” the female associate insisted. “Someone left with one of our display gowns.”

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary.” she pulled out a third card and handed it to the associate. “I’m sure one of these will work.”

With a smug look on her face, the associate handed it back. “That’s unlikely. Declined.”

Panicked, devitalized, she knew there was only one thing left that she could do.

“Let me call my husband.” she offered.

-

In midtown, Lin was arriving at a gala event when his phone began ringing. He answered it with a smile.

“Hey V, how’s it going? Are you guys getting along?”

“You need to come here right now.” Her voice was low and worrisome.

“What? Why?”

“I’m at a very expensive store and Alexa just ran out and hopped into a cab wearing a heinously expensive dress. You need to come here.”

Lin’s publicist began waving him inside, telling him to wrap up his phone conversation.

“I can’t leave now.” he insisted. “Just pay for it and we’ll go find her in a while.”

“Lin, you need to come here right now. They won’t let me leave unless someone pays for this dress.”

“You can’t just pay for it?”

“It’s too expensive.” she insisted. “If you show up we might be able to split the cost, but you have to come here.”

Lin sighed, glancing as his publicist who was growing increasingly frustrated.

“Where are you?”

“Madison between 68th and 69th.”

“I’m on my way.”

As Lin left the event and headed uptown, Alexa arrived just a few moments later, still in the gown.

She paid the cab driver and strutted out onto the red carpet, feeling elated and energized for someone who typically went out of their way to avoid being photographed.

They asked her who she was, to which she proudly replied, “Lin-Manuel Miranda’s daughter.”

When they asked her who she was wearing, she didn’t hold back.

“I just stole this Valentino dress and came here! I know, right? I look amazing.”

-

Lin arrived at the store within the hour, seeing his wife waiting by the register. She wasted no time filling him in on everything that had happened.

“She didn’t come back?”

Vanessa shook her head. “No. We have no idea where she went.”

“Your wife has had multiple cards rejected.” the associate chimed in. “My manager is prepared to call the authorities if neither of you can pay for the dress.

“Exactly how expensive is this dress?”

“Seventeen thousand dollars.”

“Oh,” Lin shrugged, pulling out his wallet and handing the card to the associate. “Is that it?” He turned to Vanessa, who was shocked at how calm he was over such an exuberant amount. “I thought you said it was heinously expensive?”

“It is.” she insisted, almost suspicious of how calm he was.

The card worked on the first try.

“This one works,” The associate gave a knowing look to Vanessa before returning the card to Lin along with a receipt.

“Clearly we know who makes the money in that relationship.” she whispered.

“What did you just say?” V demanded, clearly offended by the comment.

“Can I help you with anything else?”

“You’re sure you have no idea where she went?” Lin pressed, changing the subject.

Vanessa did not.

“I’ll try calling her.” he offered, pulling his phone out.

Still on the red carpet in midtown, Alexa pulled her ringing phone out of her purse in front of the photographers.

“I was just looking for you.”

Lin was relatively calm when she picked up, though his voice was slightly laced with frustration.

“Lex… where are you right now?”

“I’m at your event.” she informed him with a smile.

“You’re in Bryant Park right now?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at Valentino with Vanessa buying a seventeen thousand dollar dress that I have every intention of returning.”

Alexa couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, you had to buy it for her? She couldn’t afford it?”

“That’s not important.” he insisted.

“Was she emasculated?” her voice seemed to raise an octave as if she was more excited by the thought. “Did she cry?! Oh, now I’m sorry that I left.”

“Lex… this isn’t funny.”

The photographers in front of her began calling out her name again.

“Hey, remember when I said I didn’t like attention?” she prompted to Lin over the phone. “I think that may have been the Zoloft talking. I didn’t take my meds this morning and honestly, I am loving the attention I’m getting right now. These photographers can’t get enough of me. That might be because I told them I just stole this dress, though.”

“You didn’t take your meds?” Lin had immediately gone from frustrated to concerned. “You know what? Stay where you are. V and I are coming to get you, and then we’re going to have a really long talk about what just happened.”

“If you say so.”

With that, she hung up.

-

When the three of them finally arrived home that evening, tensions were high. While Vanessa still seemed upset about the money situation, Alexa was relaxed, lounging across the loveseat in the living room; still wearing the stolen gown.

“Okay so,” Lin opted to stand to present a firm parental stance, Vanessa beside him. “This did not go well today.”

“I agree.” Alexa insisted. “Vanessa, you seem really upset about this whole situation.”

Vanessa didn’t respond to her, still glaring at Lin.

“Where did you get that kind of money?” she demanded.

“V,” Still attempting to parent, Lin was confused to find out that his finances were the biggest of his wife’s concerns. “I think the more important question is why Alexa neglected to take her meds and then stole a seventeen thousand dollar dress and left you to pay for it.”

“Which she couldn’t, by the way.” the teen added, gleefully.

“Lex…” he warned.

“What? All I’m saying is that being a lawyer clearly doesn’t pay as much as being the guy who wrote Hamilton does.”

Vanessa, still focused on her husband, pressed on. “When we first started dating, you were and English sub who had nothing. I paid the bills. I bought us dinner. Now you can drop seventeen grand like it’s nothing?”

“You were poor when you guys met?” Lex asked, genuinely surprised.

“So we both make a lot of money now!” he shot back, growing increasingly stressed with both conversations. “Why is that a problem? I thought that was the goal, V! I don’t understand why you’re so upset?!”

“I can’t picture it.” Lex continued. “I can only picture you making way more money than Vanessa like you obviously do now—”

Now equally frustrated with Lex’s behavior, they both cut her off.

“STOP doing that!” they said in unison.

“Doing what?”

“You trying to turn us against one another isn’t making this situation any better.” Lin insisted.

Finally, Vanessa seceded. “You need to talk to her about this without me here. I’m going to… sort out my finances in the meantime.” She headed toward her office. “This conversation isn’t over.”

“What conversation?!” Lin prompted yet again. Vanessa ignored him, though, leaving the room.

“I’ve honestly never seen someone so offended because their spouse makes more money than them.” Lex started once her mother had left. “What is she so afraid of? That you’re going to leave her for someone who needs financial help a la Maria Reynolds? Honestly, what a bitch.”

Lin took a breath. “Lex, you told me that you didn’t take your meds this morning.”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why not? That was a part of our deal, remember? When we left the hospital last week, you told me you would take your meds every day.”

“I mean I was going to,” she tried. “It’s just… things have been going really well since then, and I figured skipping one day wouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“You can’t just stop taking your medication because things are going well.” he reminded her.

“Why not? It isn’t that bad.”

“Because not taking your medication is causing you to make destructive decisions. Decisions like stealing a seventeen thousand dollar dress and leaving Vanessa behind to pay for it. Then calling her a bitch for no reason.”

“She is a bitch.” Lex insisted. “My saying it doesn’t make me a bad person.”

Lin was clearly frustrated and even angry at this point, an emotion he rarely ever felt.

“You would not be saying that if you knew how much work she put into getting you back here.”

The teen seemed surprised by this news. “Wait, what? She did?”

“Who do you think told me to write that speech? Vanessa came up with an incredibly thought out, specific plan that not only kept Claudia from getting wrongfully terminated but got you back to us. I was too defeated to do anything. I thought we had lost you forever. She worked tirelessly on getting you back, while being a lawyer full time, while being a mother to Sebastian, and while keeping me from losing my shit because you were gone.”

Alexa was suddenly on edge—she’d never seen Lin like this before.

“Oh my god, you’re for real mad.”

“You would not even be back here if it weren’t for her. You have no idea what she went through to get you back, and you’ve done nothing but treat her like a second-class citizen for the last week.”

There were tears welling up in her eyes. Lin had taken on the role of the closest thing that Alexa had to a friend since she had been living with them. Having her only “friend” upset with her was a looming, uncomfortable feeling.

“Please don’t be mad at me.” she managed through tears. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed. You could’ve handled this situation a lot more maturely than you did. You’re responsible for your behavior despite your mental illnesses, and you’re choosing not to take responsibility.”

The teen’s thoughts became overwhelming as her emotions rushed to the surface. She started sobbing, unable to hold back.

It took every ounce of power that Lin had to hold it together and not immediately comfort her.

“I’m not saying you have to be best friends with her, but you at least owe her an apology. However you decide to do that is up to you.”

She held a hand up to her neck, concern building. “Why is my heart beating so fast?”

Lin sat on the loveseat beside her and felt her pulse, confirming that it was faster than normal.

“You didn’t take your meds, and now you’re having a panic attack because I’m temporarily upset with your behavior. That’s not a rational response, mija. You need to take your medication properly.”

Her breathing became increasingly uneven. Lin managed to help her through the panic attack. When the worst was over, he stood up, off to handle pressing marital issues.

“I need to go talk to Vanessa. We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay? Change out of that dress—we’re returning it as soon as possible.”

-

Safely in Vanessa’s office with the door closed, Lin was hopeful to end their financial conversation on a good note.

“I need you to explain to me what about all of this is making you so upset.” he started, sitting on the small couch on the far end of the room. “I want to help, but I don’t know how.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes, turning in her desk chair to face him. “This isn’t about you helping, Lin.”

“Then what is it? If you’re upset about me spending that much, you know I have every intention of returning it, right?”

“I’m upset that you could afford that dress and I couldn’t.” she finally confessed. “It was embarrassing having all of my cards declined and then having to beg you to step in only to watch you pay for it on the first try.”

“Why is that embarrassing? We’re both financially stable. I don’t see how that could be bad—”

“We’ve never been this way.” Vanessa reminded him. “Until Hamilton came to be, I always made more money than you and we were doing just fine.”

“You don’t make any less money now than you did then.” he pointed out. “I still don’t see what the problem is. Do you not want me to be successful?”

“No, that’s not it at all,” she moved from the chair and sat beside him on the small couch. “It’s just you being this financially stable. When I started dating you, I took comfort in the fact that I’d be making more money and would inevitably be the primary breadwinner. It was empowering. As a woman, I felt more in control and that was an amazing feeling. It’s not that I wanted any less for you.”

“Is making more money than me really that important to you?” he asked, taken aback by her explanation.

“A little.” she confessed.

“I don’t-I can’t help you. Hamilton is the most successful thing that I’ve ever created and I can’t shut down the production just because you’re feeling insecure about money.”

“That’s not what I’m saying—” she tried.

“I thought we were in this together, V?”

“We are!” she insisted.

Lin could sense that their conversation was headed toward rising tension. He hoped to stop it before that happened.

“Today was a long day,” he insisted. “I think we should sleep on it and talk about it tomorrow.”

Vanessa nodded slowly, staying behind as Lin stood up and left her office.

-

The next day, Lin made absolutely sure that Lex had taken her medication.

The teen spent most of the day stressed out, after spending hours attempting to find a way to apologize to Vanessa. She didn’t know much about the woman—she was a chemical engineer and a lawyer; she was married to Lin; she had one son and Alexa, who’d been treating her poorly since the day they met.

She headed downtown in search of something to buy to make things up to her mother.

She opted to step inside a bookstore, hoping a title would catch her eye. There were an array of titles that seemed interesting, but nothing quite right for an apology.

In the children’s section, she came across one book that seemed promising. She purchased it promptly and headed back uptown.

At home, Vanessa was in the living room hard at work on her laptop over a case. Alexa approached her carefully, sitting on the far end of the couch.

She took the book out and placed it on the coffee table in front of them, using her hand to slowly slide it toward Vanessa.

Vanessa glanced at the book and then at her daughter, who elected to stare at the ground rather than make eye contact.

The book was titled Rosie Revere Engineer, a nod to one of Vanessa’s many skills.

“What is this?” she asked, calmly.

“Rosie Revere Engineer.” Lex stated, blushing. “It’s about a girl who wants to create things. It teaches the importance of failure. I don’t think Sebastian is old enough to understand it yet but when he is, you could always read it to him. I know you’re a chemical engineer, but there are no children’s books about chemical engineers.”

“Okay…” Vanessa was still cautious as if she half-expected things to suddenly go wrong.

Alexa shifted, clearly uncomfortable as she tried to speak her mind.

“I um… I take out a lot of my mom issues on you and I… I shouldn’t do that.”

There was silence as she groaned, rubbing her face as she struggled to get the words out. Vanessa waited patiently for her to continue.

“The first mom that I remember having was really sexually abusive. She kind of fucked up moms for me. I’m kind of just now coming to terms with the fact that I don’t have to take that stress trauma out on every mother figure that I have.”

Again, silence.

“I’m… sorry. For what I did yesterday and how I’ve been acting towards you. It’s not easy for me to warm up to you, but I want to try.”

Vanessa managed a small smile. She tried to put a hand on Alexa’s shoulder, but the teen moved away, rushing to the far side of the room.

“I’m not there yet.” she insisted. “I hope you don’t take it personally. It’s not your fault, I swear.”

Her mother nodded slowly. “I understand. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Vanessa wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a smile on her daughter’s face.

[notsofly]

Ties in Blood Chapter 27

@mrswhozeewhatsis @percussiongirl2017 @impala-dreamer @idreamofplaid @winchestergirl-13 @squirrelnotsam

Warning: Cutting/suicide.

Note: “Kushiel’s Legacy” is a book series by Jacqueline Carey. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 27

Aaliyah slipped into the guest room that Pris had set up for her and closed the door. There had been too much that Aaliyah couldn’t let go unnoticed. With the drops of information from her siblings about her being in a tv show, Aaliyah wanted to check it out. Starting what appeared to be her laptop up, Aaliyah dug through her bag and pulled out a change of clothes. After the long trail ride and tending to the horses, she wanted a shower. Luck had been on her side when the laptop started up without the use of a password. She squinted her eyes at the results that popped up from putting her name into the search bar.

Her name pulled up her page on the database for movies and television shows, news articles about her and what she’s done in ways of giving back to the community and charity work. Most of the charity work focused on those who lived below the poverty line and barely made anything. That didn’t seem so bad. It had touched home for her childhood. Her eye caught the headline of an article that had been posted the day before she arrived at the house.

‘Kushiel’s Legacy’ Seeps into the Real Life

Aaliyah clicked on the link and scanned the article that broke the news that she had been caught having relations with one of the directors of the television show she was a regular on. The article went on with information from an unnamed person who worked on the show telling the news outlet how Aaliyah and the director had been seen to be a bit too close during times on set and would go out after the day’s shooting was done. Even showed up to set the next day as if they spent the night together.

She closed the laptop without closing the window, seeing enough of what her pretend life was like. It sounded like a good life if it hadn’t been for the outside relations the article spoke about. Aaliyah grabbed her clean clothes and headed for the nearest bathroom for a shower. Voices drifted down the hall from the dining area. She would have ignored them if her name hadn’t been said. She crept down and hid in the shadows against the hall.

“I’m surprised she had the nerve to show up with all the stuff that’s going on,” Leo said. “I mean, doesn’t she know what she does reflects on us, right?”

“Not like she has enough … fun while shooting some parts of the show,” Xander added.

“You try having actual adult moments with a bunch of people hanging around watching,” Nissa said in Aaliyah’s defense. “Besides, the guys have this … sling thing that keep ‘em down for those times.”

“Still, she had to be caught like that,” Leo circled back around. “Do any of you think she had enough smarts to not do it?”

“Who said she actually did any of it? We haven’t heard her say anything about it.”

“She could be trying to avoid it,” Xander suggested. “I’m not saying she did or didn’t do what TMZ or other celebrity news are reporting. We all know Aaliyah’s been the one who had to grow up when our mother died.”

That was true enough. Aaliyah had to lie about her age a little in order to gain a job while in junior high. Xander told her not to do it.

“She did have a tough time when we all started living together,” Nissa commented.

“Who’s side are you taking here, sis?” Leo asked.

“Think about it.”

Aaliyah heard footsteps in the kitchen; Nissa walked somewhere.

“Put us in their position,” Nissa continued. “And you had to do what Aaliyah did? Then mom married another man and we social climbed. Then you didn’t have to struggle to save money for food or thrift store clothes. Or help pay bills.”

Aaliyah didn’t hear anyone speak after that. It was her cue to slip back down the hall for the bathroom and start up the shower. It was the perfect dream life; a family, one or both parents living, and a stable job. Hearing her siblings sitting around discussing something she hadn’t done wasn’t part of that dream.

She closed the door behind her and locked it before dumping her clean clothes into the sink. Once she had the water running, Aaliyah put her hands on the sink and put her weight on them. Her breath shook before she looked into the mirror. A green and blue eye scanned her sun kissed skin. No scars or any sort of mares that she had gained from the years of hunting. Aaliyah pulled her shirt off and moved to look at the spot where the hand print should have been from the Djinn. It wasn’t there. Nothing added up.

“Help me,” a disembodied voice echoed in the bathroom.

Jerking at the sound, Aaliyah looked around to find no one was there with her. None of her siblings would have thought to pull the “hide a speaker in the bathroom” prank. Out of the corner of her eye, the mirror reflected the image of the guy in the coma at the assisted living place. Her eyes narrowed as she turned to look at the image. Sleep had been short the past few days, but Aaliyah swore she had enough to not be hallucinating things.

“Aaliyah?” Nissa’s voice was muffled by the door. “Is it okay I come in?”

She shook her head free of the image. “Yeah.” Aaliyah worked off her pants when Nissa entered and closed the door.

“Are you sure you wanna go back next week?” Nissa asked. “I mean…”

“Do I really wanna face all the criticism and backlash of whatever someone claimed I did?” Aaliyah tossed the last piece of clothing into the dirty pile and stepped into the shower. “The news broke Thursday, sis. Unless the higher ups at the network decide to pull the show before the season finale, I’m sure nothing serious has been decided.”

Aaliyah heard Nissa lower the toilet lid and saw her shadow sit through the decorative shower curtain.

“We’re just worried,” her sister said. “I mean, we’re not exactly cut off from the world here.”

Aaliyah paused in working the shampoo through her hair. “You’re worried that the rumor of what may or may not have happened will make everyone look bad.” Not that she could really blame them. “Whatever people are claiming isn’t true. Any bet it was someone who had gone for the role I got but got a lesser role in the deal. And this is their way of trying to get back at me.”

She rinsed out the shampoo with the thought that Nissa would be able to see right through the lie. Conditioner was worked through and left while Aaliyah grabbed the body wash and a washcloth.

“You’ve been here most of the day, and not once brought up the matter,” Nissa said. “We can help.”

“Not sure how much help you all will be.” Aaliyah worked the lathered cloth over her body. “I gotta handle it on my own.”

“Or … you could just stay here. There’s a few job openings at the local theatre.”

Aaliyah stopped mid leg, thrown off by the comment. It sounded like her sister made the suggestion that she quit the show and get involved in the local theatre. Why would she do that?

“Anyway,” Nissa broke into Aaliyah’s thoughts. “We’re gonna be leaving in about an hour for dinner. Thought you’d wanna know.”

Part of Aaliyah wanted to dismiss what Nissa said out of hand. It was the perfect life. Being one of a handful of rising stars, being a lead on a television series based on a book series too good for movies, and all the charity work. Aaliyah couldn’t imagine much else. Something had to be tossed in for a twist; the article. There had to be that one thing to be the wrench in the plans. Rinsing out the conditioner and the body wash, Aaliyah turned the water off and stepped out of the tub.

***

Aaliyah slid her chair under her as she sat at the table. The others were settling in as the host assured that their waiter would see to them shortly. She adjusted her shirt a little before reaching for the glass of water. Her eyes shifted around the full dining room, low conversations at each table and the wait staff moving about like a well-oiled machine. The light was high enough to be able to read the menu and see her siblings and step mother at the table, but not those at the nearby tables.

“You all enjoy your ride this afternoon?” Pris asked, putting her own glass down.

Aaliyah nodded along with her siblings. It had been a relatively uneventful ride that she would have missed in the city. If she had experienced the life everyone else remembered. Her siblings ordered their choice of wine when the waiter came by. Aaliyah glanced at the wine list before spotting the section for other alcoholic drinks.

“I’ll have … a Long Island, please,” Aaliyah ordered, ignoring the barely contained glares from her family.

“Was that necessary?” Pris asked when the waiter walked away. “A Long Island, come now, Aaliyah. How old are you?”

“I believe…” Aaliyah laid the alcohol menu down as she worked to keep her voice low and level. “That I am old enough to make that effect my life without the judgmental looks from my family.”

“Mom, can you not?” Nissa asked, her voice low. “Not here. Please?”

“Why not here? It’s as good as any.”

“Because we don’t want any more attention,” Xander countered.

Aaliyah caught his glance around to the nearby tables to see a few of the people giving sideway looks at them. “They’re right, Pris. Not here. I’m willing to talk…”

“Then talk.”

Aaliyah pulled herself up straight at the raised voice that pulled more looks from the other tables. “I will not here.” A finger teased at the folded cloth napkin, exposing the steak knife. “Do you not think for one second that I would know better than to get involve with a director?” Two fingers continued to work at the napkin, freeing the knife. “I have better morals than you give me credit for, Priscilla. Do not lump me in with a portion of the Hollywood stars that view sleeping with higher ups is a good way to get better roles.”

She watched Pris stare her down from across the table, her fingers subtle movements touched on the knife handle and slid it back within her grasp. Aaliyah caught the anger that seethed just under the surface of her step mother, wanting to lash out at her.

“I knew taking you and Xander in was a mistake,” Pris said with a shake of her head. “This whole dinner was a mistake.”

Aaliyah caught movement behind Pris as she stood. It was the same guy from the assisted living building. He lifted one arm and traced a finger from wrist to crook of the elbow. Was it that simple to escape? It couldn’t be.

“Mom, just wait and listen,” Leo protested, his voice pulled Aaliyah back. “This wasn’t a mistake.”

Aaliyah looked down to the knife in her hand as her siblings worked to keep Pris at the table and not cause the scene to disturb the other diners. It was the knife or break a glass for a shard. The short blade was cool to the touch when she put it against her wrist. With a deep breath, Aaliyah closed her eyes and pressed the knife tip into her wrist. A trickle of warmth pooled at the point before rolling down the side. She mentally counted to three before sliding the blade up her arm. The hushed argument of her family continued at the table. Aaliyah opened her eyes to see them leaning over the table, unconcerned of what she had done. She put the knife in her other hand, blood seeping from the cut, and made the same cut on the other arm.

Her sight started to blur when Nissa turned to face her; someone from another table had seen the blood on Aaliyah. A voice urged Nissa to leave the table, that the mess wasn’t their problem. Aaliyah assumed it was Pris. Leave it to an imaginary step mother to just up and leave like Casey did. Aaliyah slumped forward onto to the table, her arms dangling at her sides. The knife eventually slipped from her loose hold onto the floor.

“Aaliyah, wake up,” Nissa pled, her voice distant. “Come on, sis. Not now.”

The more Nissa pled, Aaliyah swore that her voice grew closer. As if …

**

Aaliyah shot up gasping for breath. Someone gave a sigh of relief. She sat there on the bed, allowing her breathing to return to normal. A movement at her side brought her attention to Nissa; behind her was Leo tending to the recently deceased Djinn. Aaliyah moved an arm in an effort to stretch and saw IV lines attached to her.

“We thought we lost you for a second there,” Nissa said, working on removing the lines. “It was something we weren’t looking forward to with Xander and your friends.”

Aaliyah narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Friends?”

“Yeah. The one said his name was Plant. He and his FBI partner …”

Aaliyah huffed in amusement. “That’s Dean and Sam. How’d you forget about them?”

“FBI, remember?” Nissa pulled the last line free. “There, all good. How the hell did you get caught?”

Aaliyah rubbed the spots where the needles had been and shrugged. “I don’t know. Low point, maybe. How long was I missing?”

“A few hours. At first we thought you were on to something and didn’t wanna lose the trail.” Nissa shifted on the bed. “But when you didn’t come back … Something was wrong. We went through your journal and found the entry about the Djinn. Do you know how hard it is to find a silver blade and lambs blood in the middle of winter?”

Aaliyah’s head bobbed a little. “It’s tough finding them anywhere. So, you took it out with a blow to the head?”

“One of the best ways with any monster. Come on, I’m sure the others are worried.”

Aaliyah accepted the offered hand up off the bed and stepped over the blood stain. She followed after Nissa back to Xander’s room, smiling every time her sister looked back over her shoulder. She couldn’t blame Nissa for the constant reassurance that she was still there after the Djinn attack. A hand rubbed the spot that sported the double hand print of two Djinn as she walked into Xander’s room.

“Damn it, Liyra,” he cursed when she walked in. “Nearly gave us all a heart attack.”

“Love you too, Jerk face,” she shot back. “Nissa said Sam and Dean were here.”

“Yeah, but they headed off for another case once they were satisfied Nissa and Leo had the Djinn handled.”

Aaliyah nodded, the odd sense of relief washed over her. Part of her hadn’t been ready to see Dean again, but another wanted to make sure she wasn’t dreaming again.

“Tell you what, sis,” Xander broke into her thoughts. “Why don’t we all have a movie night? I’m sure there’s gotta be a store open that’s got some movies or something.”

She chuckled. “I doubt it, but I’ll look into it.” She moved over to Xander and kissed his cheek before ducking out.

In her path to the reception desk, Aaliyah heard a whistle low enough to blend into the background noise. Glancing around, she spotted Leo who gave her a nod. The Djinn had been disposed of quietly somewhere no one would find it easily.

“May I help you?” the receptionist asked.

“I know most places might be closed,” Aaliyah started. “But do you know if any movie places and stores would be open?”

“There’s the movie store down the street open until 3pm,” the receptionist answered. “And the dollar store closes at 4pm.”

“Thank you.” Aaliyah aimed back for Xander’s room.

[an-escapism-blog]

TWO IS EQUAL TO ONE

Two years after getting kicked out of the place she once called home, Arian Adams still struggles to get back on track. Being the sole person that she can rely on, Ari finds it difficult to survive in a city like New York. At the age of 26, maybe a little too old to be still attending university, all she wants is to finish a degree, get some high-paying job and prove herself one thing, that she can stand on her own feet without the helping hands of her twin brother.

Ari dragged herself to West 82 to grab her usual cup noodles and a can of cola. Wednesday nights meant night duties at the small coffee shop near her confined apartment. Being a cashier is not as difficult as being the delivery girl of a famous pizza place in the city, so during wednesdays, at the end of her shift, she treats herself at the convenience store. Excluding the half-awake and grumpy cashiers at the store, Ari loves everything about the place. People at that store are mostly in a hurry and usually keep to themselves and so they would not really give her weird looks for always eating alone. Not that she doesn’t have friends, but the realization that she has no family to eat with is what hurts her the most. Gulping the rest of her drink, she heads to Quad Cinema, a 24-hour movie theatre where she got her third part-time job as the operator of its snacks and popcorn booth. She works at the most ungodly hours of night until dawn but she doesn’t mind as long as it doesn’t clash with school hours. Imagine working three jobs and being a Psychology student at the same time. Ari barely has time for herself, but at least this is better than her old life, when everything she did with her twin was unlawful and illegal.

As she returned to her crummy apartment that she shared with a fellow struggling schoolmate, she took her shoes off and immediately succumbed to deep sleep for it was a Thursday which means it’s her day-off from all three jobs. She was awakened by a voice belonging to her roommate, Janise.

“Ari!” Janise screamed on top of her lungs as she called for her friend.

“You’re not seriously going to let yourself rot in this stupid apartment on Thanksgiving day, are you?” Janise nudged her in the shoulder and pulled her upwards.

Ari blinked in disbelief. How could she forget that it’s Thanksgiving already? School and work has taken too much attention from her that she did not notice all the turkeys and pumpkins that were being sold at the market. She came out of her room and saw Janise preparing a little feast for the both of them with wheat and sunflowers to match the occassion. Ari wanted to tear up. Thanksgiving day’s sole purpose is to give gratitude, but now, she can’t seem to figure out what exactly she should be thankful for. It’s been so long since she last shared a bountiful meal with someone. She missed her dad, her brothers, her whole family.

_ _

Two years ago

“Ari there’s a man behind you! Be careful! This is the most important job Dad has ever given us. Don’t mess it up, sis.” Kyeran shouted through the earpiece. Ari dodged as if expecting the man to have a knife in his hands. “Alright, there are two more incoming. One a man of my own size, the other is buff as hell. Knock them down and go straight to the alley, fight a few more guys, escort Dad personally to where the package is then our job is done.” Ari nodded at that. She loved her teamwork with her brother. They worked in complement. Maybe because of the fact that they were twins. Kyeran worked on the boring tech and genius side while she worked on the exciting stuff like throwing punches and knocking down men bigger than her size. Snapping out of her good thoughts, she slid down the alley and threw punches here and there. She signalled her Dad to come out of the car. She was ready to grab the package until she heard a deafening gunshot. She stopped for a moment, hearing incoherent shouts of her brother from the earpiece. She turned, and saw her Dad lying on the floor, chest covered in blood. Ari fell on her knees. She could not feel anything. She didn’t know how long she sat there until she was ushered away by her cousin, Bronwyn as the police sirens grew closer and forced her to leave the crime scene. They could not be possibly seen where the murder took place since everything that happened there was illegal. No matter how badly she wanted to pay respects to her father, she couldn’t.

_ _

Feeling lost, Ari just wanted a big hug from her twin. Maybe that way, it would hurt less. However, she came back to their hideout with Kyeran tossing bags full of clothes to her direction. Not understanding the situation, Ari shouted, “What is wrong with you?" 

“What is wrong with me?” Kyeran yelled back. “Shouldn’t you ask yourself that? You’re the reason why Dad is gone! Arian, I gave you solid instructions! Didn’t I tell you to personally escort Dad to receive the package? All you had to do was follow it!” He screamed as he jabbed an accusing finger to Ari’s shoulders. Ari was in tears now realizing that her brother was blaming her for their father’s death. Kyeran sighed and told her calmly, “I don’t want to see you. You’re a reminder of Dad’s death. Just.. just get out of this house.” At that, Ari lost it. “Are you out of your mind? It was a mistake! It’s not as if I wanted something bad to happen!” She told in a furious tone.

“If I’m gone, who’s gonna take care of our brother?” She asked in a mad tone. She was their 17-year old brother, Archie’s mother figure. If she left, she would have to leave Archie in Kyeran’s hands. Kyeran finally answered, “Don’t you get it? We’re not a family anymore, so you don’t have to worry about Archie. He’s staying with me, not with a killer like you.“ At that, Ari lost it, “Fine! If leaving this house would give you peace then I’m leaving. Rot in your own guilt, dumba*s.” Pain and anger were all she felt at that time, so she just left the place she once called home and left the people she once called her family.

It’s a Monday morning, holidays are over and Ari is on a bus ride on her way to school seated across a lanky man in a black hoodie. She was still feeling a little down. She misses her brothers a lot, specially Archie. Archie always looked up to her sister as a hero but now, she wonders how he thinks of her.

At lunch time, she sat with Janise in the cafeteria. Ari was feeling uneasy. She knows when she’s being watched, thanks to her sharp senses that she developed from breaking in and stealing in the past. The tall man in black hoodie was standing by the door who seemed to be watching her. However she couldn’t recognize him for his face was mostly covered.

On her way back home from her shift at the pizza place, she still felt eyes watching her so she slipped in to a narrow alley in hopes of cornering the man until her wrist was grabbed followed by a big hand covering her mouth. She let out a gasp. She turned and almost thought she was looking at a mirror. It was Kyeran. He was the guy with the black hoodie. Suddenly feeling the pain of seeing her brother, the embodiment of all the awful things on earth, Ari tried to turn the other way. Kyeran stopped her with his long arms.

“What do you need from me, stranger?” Ari asked in an irritated voice.

Kyeran sighed, and responded. “Ari, you need to come with me.”

She scoffed. “In case you need to be reminded my dear brother, you disowned me. And I can’t be with you, whatever it is that you need. I stopped doing illegal stuff years ago.”

He didn’t look surprised by what she said. “I know,” He confessed. “I- I’ve been keeping up with you all these years.”

It was Ari who was surprised by his statement. “You what?”

“You heard me.”

“Ari, Archie is missing.”

“Archie is what?” She questioned for the second time.

“Archie is missing.. Well, not technically missing. I know where he is, but-” He was cut from his explanation.

“After banishing me from our home, this is what happens? Dad’s only command was to never have Archie get involved with these things, he’s just a teenager. You did the exact opposite!”

Kyeran tried to defend himself, “It was a mistake! It’s not as if I wanted something bad to happen!” She found it ironic. Those were her exact words when he was trying to throw her out of their house.

“Do you hear yourself? Those were the same words that I told you two years ago..”

“It’s not really the right time for us to argue. Just listen to me first, Ari. It’s dangerous.” She waited for him to continue. “I got into a sticky situation with a CEO.. and he discovered my connections. Archie, our cousins, Bronwyn and Matt, even you who I stopped contacting years ago. That’s why I’ve been following you, to reach you.”

Ari almost laughed at that. “Couldn’t you have just called me?”

“Would you have answered if you knew it was me?” Kyeran asked back. He was right. She wouldn’t have answered.

Kyeran suddenly softened. “Look, Ari.. I- I need your help. We can get Archie back if we work together.”

Setting aside her anger and indifferences with her twin, she got into the car and agreed to work with him to get their brother back. She did not feel so comfortable wearing her black suit, the outfit that she used to wear during their missions. It was the suit that she wore the day her father died. An awkward silence surrounded the car ride until Ari decided to break it. “Do you even know where we’re going?” She asked. “Of course. Archie’s been taken to Albany. I tracked him a while back.” Ari just nodded at that. As expected, Kyeran was fast with information.

Arriving at the location, the twins surveyed the surroundings and looked for spots where they can break in. The building was surrounded by a dozen or so security guards. A number that Ari can easily knock down. After an hour of studying the building, they came up with a solid plan to get their brother out of there.

Kye handed Ari an earpiece. She gets to action while he gets to the tech stuff, just like how they did in the past. Ari entered the building through the rooftop, easily hitting one guard to make him fall unconscious. Kyeran had successfully gotten the softcopy of the building’s blueprint. Entering a few codes to his laptop, he instructed Ari where to go. “Ari, there’s an armed man at the other side of the wall. Throw him a knife. Don’t use your gun in that area, it’s full of metals and the sound will resonate.” Ari nodded to her brother’s instructions. She was feeling a lot of pressure at that moment. If she messed this up, she might as well just kill herself. If she makes one mistake, it was just like proving Kyeran that he was right about her being a reminder of death. Ari shook her head. She was not going to let that happen. She still wants to finish her degree and possibly, get back to her family.

Kyeran spoke from the earpiece, “Ari, stop right there. See the metal door on your right? I think that’s where Archie is.” She tried to open the door and obviously it was locked. “Can I shoot the door knob? It has passcode.” She stated. “No! You can’t just shoot things, sis.” Kyeran went silent for a while, probably figuring out what the code is. As to how Kyeran figured out these things, it was still a mystery for Arian. Perhaps it’s the result of Kyeran spending hours with their Dad down the basement to learn some nerd stuff. After a few seconds, he was already reciting a series of code from the earpiece.

The doors opened, three muscular guys were ready to fight her. From Kyeran’s earpiece, he could hear sounds of metal clicking, gasps and shrieks of pain. As to how Arian fights off guys larger than her, it was still a mystery for Kyeran. After knocking the guards down, Ari told Kyeran to come over where she is now. At the corner, there sat Archie with eyes closed, mouth covered in tape, his face full of bruises and cuts. Ari rushed to his side and hugged him tight.

The twins spent a few weeks at Archie’s hospital ward to guard him from any harm. In the midst of the room’s silence, Kyeran decided to speak. “Arian.. I-uh I’m sorry.” His eyes were darted to the floor, not wanting to meet his sister’s eye. Ari reached out to her twin’s hand. The gesture surprised Kyeran, he was not expecting such warmth from her sister, the sister that he kicked out with no pity. “You know, it wasn’t really your fault,” He admitted. “Dad’s death, I mean.” There was a long pause.

“Th-there was a sniper. I just discovered a week after the incident. It’s partly my fault, Ari. I missed that detail and failed to inform you.”

“I know, Kye.”

“You knew?” Ari just nodded.

“Then why didn’t you tell me? Why did you just leave like that?”

“Maybe partly because I wanted a normal life. After Dad died, I didn’t want to touch weapons anymore.”

Tears were threatening to run down Kye’s face. “I’m sorry,” He repeated.

Ari smiled at him and said, “I was always ready to forgive you, Kye. So long as you said the right words.”

“I was going to get you back, you know. It’s just that.. I figured you started going to school again. Getting a degree was your dream and I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“How’d you even know I got into the university?”

“I’m not a tech savvy for nothing, Ari.” They both laughed at that.

Months went by as Archie’s wounds were healing faster. The complementary twins, now as free as birds from their felonious acts and dark past, are starting anew. Kyeran, with the help of their cousin, Bronwyn, is now starting a business focused on high-tech gadgets. While Arian, as ecstatic as she could be, still could not believe that she’s just a few months away from getting her diploma. Her initial goal, to stand on her own feet without her brother’s help was put aside. She realized that they were twins for a reason. The two of them were a package after all, and hopefully, their Dad is watching them from above with a smile on his face.

//

About the author:

Lanceleine Dizon, 17, a Humanities and Social Sciences student. She’s a lover of humor, cartoons and amusement parks. With her free time spent on movies, dramas and novels, she has developed a liking to stories with female characters as the lead. She looks forward to a lot of possibilities like getting herself a Pembroke Welsh Corgi as a companion.