#in other words i have No clue how to draw mob anymore or how to draw in general in fact!!! what the fu

[kiisaes]

you're ok!!!

[mimiwrites2000]

Heal Me, and I'll Heal You

Chapter one / TWO

AO3 ~~

Pairings: Armin x Annie

Words count: 8976

* spoilers for chapter 131 and up

Summary: Annie decided that she had enough of fighting

And as she waits on the ship, watching the ocean, she visits memories from years ago, up until the night before, when she saw him for the last time.

He waved at her, with a shiny, silver ring around his finger.

A fanfic about Annie giving Armin her ring~

Armin almost crashed into Annie, his red eyes widened when he saw her behind the door. His mind exploded with a dozen questions, the first one was how long has she been standing here?

Annie opened her mouth to say anything, but her tongue tangled on itself and forgot how to form words, and her body wasn’t responding anymore.

“O-oh Annie,” Armin stuttered, his voice hoarse. He swallowed, “what are you doing here?” he almost bit his tongue when his voice cracked at the end.

“I was just passing by…”

“oh…” Armin cleared his throat, looked down, and saw that Annie’s hand was still stretched out, as if she was reaching for the door’s knob. He stepped aside and nudged his head towards the room and said: “there’s nothing much in this room, but it’s… uh, kinda quiet, if you, you know, want some time alone.”

Annie didn’t answer.

Armin could do anything to avoid turning this into an awkward conversation, so he took a precarious step down the hall: “I think I need to-”

Annie grabbed him from the rim of his sleeve, stopping him, then immediately dropped it. Her head tilting down, finding her feet interesting.

“I… can listen… if you want to…”

Armin was silent for a moment, he wanted to look at Annie's face, but her head was down and all he saw was a mob of golden locks.

He retreated his steps into the room, and opened the door wide for her.

It was dark inside the room. The soft moonlight filtering through the three small, circular windows, with thick metal frames around them. The air was chilly and cold.

Annie scouted the room with her eyes; it was empty, except for a wooden box discarded in the middle. She assumed that it was previously a storage room.

Armin sat on that box, while Annie gazed outside one of the three windows, her arms tangled across her chest.

She watched the quiet waves sway under the moonlight. The night was serene.

None knew from where to start, and none seemed to want to start.

But it wasn’t as awkward as Armin thought it might be, and for him, it felt normal, as if he was used to it…

“Why are you so quiet? Cat got your tongue?” Annie sarcastically inquired, contemplating Armin from the corner of her eye.

He chuckled; it sounded weak and forced. He leaned with his elbows on his knees, staring at a spot between his shoes: “What do you want me to say?”

Annie didn’t answer, but she swiveled her head towards him; his back hunched and his shoulders down.

Sometimes we should let others heal us, sometimes… we want them to.

With three strides, Annie was standing in front of him. He looked up, a soft smile on his face, eyes wilted with unspoken burden.

She crouched, then she was the one looking up at him.

The blue moonlight casted on his face, lighting one side of it, intensifying his features, but at the same time softening them. The blue in his eyes was put down, and even though his expression was blank, she could almost hear the thrashing of his thoughts in his mind.

Annie had so much to tell him, but she had no clue from where to start. Maybe she shouldn’t say anything in the first place.

A desire for soothing him swarmed in her chest; she wanted to talk to him, to let him talk to her like he used to for years, but this time she would respond, she wouldn’t be just a solid, lifeless rock. She would talk back to him.

She opened her mouth to say something and at the same moment, he did the same. 

Both ended up closing them, not saying a thing.

She tried once again to talk, but the longer their gaze lingered, the more her cheeks heated up. It wasn’t a good time to get nervous or blushy, she needed to use words, for once in her life she wanted to be able to talk openly with someone, no missions to be worried about, no devil to vanquish.

She couldn’t risk stuttering.

Annie lifted her hand up, swallowed, and rested it on his knee. She felt him stiffen underneath her touch, his eyes widened for a second, before they softened again. She rubbed small, mild circles with her thumb, easing his pain, all the while looking in his eyes.

“You know…” he started, and Annie nodded, denoting that she could hear him, that she would respond back to him too, “sometimes… I wonder what it would’ve been like if I… was born somewhere else… you know what I mean?” his question was in a small voice, not sure if he should ask or not.

“Yes, yes I know,” she retorted, you can ask, I’ll answer, I can answer.

Armin smiled softly, before he continued: “It’s… overwhelming, you know…”

“I know.”

“I just…”

Annie waited, giving him his time, not pressuring him to talk. The hand on his knees was firmer, assuring that she was listening, that she was all ears.

“I don’t know w-what to do… I just…” he didn’t finish his sentence; he turned his head away.

But Annie caught his eyes glistening. Something heavy plummeted to the bottom of her stomach, making her hands frigid, and her breathing quick.

She didn’t know what to do either; she could respond, react, but maybe she couldn’t really do it anyway. Maybe she’s only good at listening, and she should stick to that, and that only.

“I’m s-sorry, Annie, I’m not making any sense right now.”

“Don’t say that,” say something more, say something!

His lips parted, but he halted, before he shook his head and said: “It’s fine, really, we don’t have time for this, we should probably head back-”

The hand on his knee tightened, and he stopped talking, turning his head to her, and-

Her eyebrows were furrowed, she was focused, her eyes not wavering off of him. Armin blinked once, twice, before Annie scooted closer to him, her other hand reaching for his hands on his lap.

She slowly rested his palm onto hers, holding his gaze. His eyes widening when he felt his skin on hers. She rubbed his hand experimentally, the space between her eyebrows unwrinkling, and her touch became more steady.

Then she covered his hands with both hers, enveloping them. His warm hands inundated her cold ones, and she hated how she was gleaning out his warmth; she bit the inside of her cheek in guilt. But he wasn’t pulling back, he accepted her touch with widening eyes and a confused stare.

She eyeballed their hands; both of her hands covering his, his fingers laid relaxed between her own. 

She tried to say something, but couldn’t.

She tilted her head up, she caught Armin already watching her, and with one look at his eyes, somehow, she knew exactly what was going through his mind.

you don’t have to say anything

That’s when she finally realized it…

She nodded, in a way telling him that he can say what he had on his mind, and that she’s here to listen. That was enough.

“I…” Armin tried to say, shaking his head, but Annie’s hand tightened around his, and the next thing he knew, words were flowing from him, “I don’t think I know what I’m doing…”

Annie nodded, slow, prudent.

“I never thought we would reach this point, I don’t know if this is how I want this to end…” he trailed off, his voice weakening.

“What do you mean?” She asked, in a small voice, craning her head to get a glimpse at his face.

He took a deep breath, swallowed, then stammered: “I don’t want to fight him, Annie, I don’t want that.”

Again, he was looking away.

Annie wanted to cup his face, turn it towards her, and look into his eyes, but at the same time she didn’t want to push him too far, she didn’t want to scare him away.

“What if it’s the only choice you have?” She asked.

A beat of silence.

The silence stretched into something longer, long enough to make Annie fight the urge to fidget in her spot.

But then Armin looked up at her, straight into her eyes. Her throat tightened when she saw the tears pooling in the corner of his eyes.

“I know him, at least I think I know him,” his voice cracked, “I know that he will fight back, I know that…” a sob escaped his mouth, and he zipped it closed, not daring to speak another word, uncertain how it would sound like.

Annie held his gaze, a knot traveling from her throat to her chest, like a grip on her throat, choking her, clasping her lungs in a vise-tight hold.

She cushioned Armin’s hands in hers, caressing the skin that looked brand new, but uncountable scars charred it for years, all was gone, the touchable proof of what he went through drifted like sand in the desert. From the first glance, no one would know that he saw things no human should see, tolerated years of pain that no one deserves to go through, that he didn’t deserve to.

Tears silently descended on his cheeks, gathering at the edge of his chin, before dripping onto Annie’s hands.

And then she was wiping away Armin's tears with one hand, then both hands were cupping his cheeks, drawing circles with her thumb, but it wasn’t enough to cease the tears. So she drew closer to him, sitting beside him on the wooden box, close enough to feel his body heat, and her hands rubbing his face, mildly; she barely touched the skin.

He watched her movement in silence. His vision of her blurry, but then her hands would wipe around his eyes, and momentarily he would get a clear view of her, how the moonlight lit her profile, her lips were pressed and her eyes focused, before his eyes blurred again.

Then he was trying to speak, he was saying things that came out too slurred for anyone to understand, but Annie understood him, she knew that he was scared to see his friends get hurt, that Eren might be the one to hurt them. That he was terrified of raising his sword against Eren.

“I-I don’t want to do that, I c-can’t do that, I don’t want to, I really don’t want to…”

Annie stroked his cheeks, his eyebrows, his forehead, then her hands tangled in his hair, brushing it lightly, before traveling back to his cheeks and wipe away more tears. He was shaking, his body quivering in front of her, and she wondered how courageous he was to be vulnerable around someone like her, to expose his emotions around a past enemy.

It wasn’t the first time she heard him cry. He cried a few times when he visited her crystal. Back then, she was frozen in midair, unable to move a limb, but now she could touch his fingers, look into his eyes, run her fingers through his hair, respond back to what he’s saying.

There was no barrier between them.

And once Annie realized that, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her frame against his.

He didn’t hug back, and Annie was fine with it. For a moment she contemplated drawing back, but weak, trembling arms wrapped around her, lightly hanging around her body.

She stroked his shoulder’s blade, resting her chin on his shoulder. His heart beating against her, rapidly.

The closure washed content over her. She wanted him to feel the same way too, to give back what he was giving her.

So her fingers ran through his short hair, massaging his scalp, and this unlocked something in him; suddenly his arms around her tightened, his head buried in her shoulder, and he didn’t hold back any longer.

Sobs were freely ripping out from his mouth, ricocheting against the rooms’ steel walls. His arms hugged her tighter tighter tighter, and he didn’t want to ever let go.

All the stress of the past few weeks and the years-worth accumulated pain poured into that one moment. A cry after the other; each one held a hurtful story behind it. Each wail loosening a knot in his chest, and removing a brick off his back.

And when her arms around him rubbed circles on his back, he slackened his hold. His eyes stinging, but he didn’t pull back, he merely let his weight lean on her, nuzzling his head in her neck, as his sobs subsided, and his breathing slowed down.

He felt Annie swallow, and he would’ve pulled away, thinking he made her uncomfortable, but her grip on him was so tight, and a selfish side of him didn’t want to let her go anyway.

“It’s unfair,” she said against his ear, and he shivered, “but it’s… it’s gonna be alright.”

Once again, Annie didn’t know what to add, and she wished she didn’t say anything in the first place.

“Yeah…” he answered, closing his eyes, his hands hanging loose around her body, but not letting go.

She swallowed once again, before she whispered something in his ear, that made him stiffen for a moment, before the grip around her tightened, and he buried his face deeper into her neck.

Let me heal you too.

Before they knew it, others were looking for them, and as they stepped outside the room, something had changed within them, deep inside, something shifted, expanded, then shrunk, before it settled, unmoving.

But none spoke about it.

Armin left, as Annie sat on the deck of the harbor, staring at the dark blue water. The stars reflected on it in hazy, disorientated sparks, moving up and down with every small wave, feigning exhales and inhales, as if the ocean was alive and breathing. 

She watched him, as he talked to the engineers, following instructions and giving them. Her eyes tracking his movements, she wasn’t sure if he was aware of her wandering eyes, but if he was aware and pretended as if he wasn't, then he was doing a great job at it.

Annie swallowed, averting her eyes up to the sky,

Her hands entwined on her lap, the cold metal ring pressing against her skin. This ring that was a part of her life for so long, a ring that her father made by his own hands.

A simple, circular metal. A humble ring, that looked harmless.

But when her fingers flick its thorn, and with one scratch… that was when disasters occured.

It was her last memory of her father… this ring that she was planning on never using it ever again...

Footsteps echoed, and Annie didn’t notice them at first, but the footsteps halted a few feet from her.

She glanced to the side, and saw Mikasa.

Annie didn’t feel like inciting any kind of conversation.

But Mikasa seemed to have something on her mind, or so thought Annie.

At first, Mikasa tried to talk Annie into joining their fight, but Annie refused, she had enough of fights, had enough of battles, and had enough of blood being shed.

She had enough of faded scars.

She had only two or three years left before she dies, she wanted to spend them in peace.

Annie wasn’t aware that her eyes caught Armin when she mentioned peace, her peace, and when she noticed her act, it was too late.

Mikasa already followed her eyes, and figured out who Annie was gazing at.

Fire was lit in Annie’s cheeks. She wanted to vanish, right there and then. She wasn’t trying to be that obvious, and she blamed Mikasa for having a sharp mind. She wrapped one arm around herself, hiding from Mikasa’s confused face. If it was a different circumstance, Annie would’ve probably laughed at Mikasa’s funny expression.

“When did this start?” Mikasa started, and Annie tensed.

“What?” Annie retorted, not looking at Mikasa.

“...no, okay…” Annie could no longer feel Mikasa’s eyes on her, and for a second, she thought that Mikasa finally decided to leave her alone, but Mikasa continued: “I get it…”

Annie’s wrapped-arm tightened around herself, her jaw clenching, “When’d what start?!” even though she tended for her tone to be nonchalant, it came out incensed. She wished she could take it back.

“It’s fine, you don’t need to keep suffering,” Mikasa ignored Annie’s question.

Annie’s curious eyes peeked at Mikasa, as her arm loosened and she held it against her chest, gazing perplexedly at Mikasa’s calm, uncharastically-dreamy expression.

“But Armin’s coming with us on the flying boat,” Mikasa added, and Annie’s jaw, for some reason, relaxed for a fleeting second, maybe she was relieved that someone understood her, or maybe she was glad that Mikasa wasn’t going to ask her anymore questions, “we’re all heading to where Eren is.”

A beat of silence tranpassed between the two girls, before Annie turned her head to look back into the bottomless, mirror-like water.

The silence was punctuated with distanced voices of others preparing the flying boat, the quiet waves of the ocean harmonizing with them.

Annie took a deep breath.

“...I know,” Annie did know, she was well aware that this might be the last hours of being in the same place as him, and she knew that she can’t stop him; no one could. She conceded to brush away that thought, inquiring about the first thing that came to her mind: “so… what is it you want to do? Are you going to kill Eren in order to save humanity?”

“I’m not killing him…” Mikasa started to walk away from Annie, and Annie felt how heavy Mikasa's steps were, the burden on her shoulders pinning her to the ground, but she stood tall, her chin up, “Eren’s somewhere far away from us now, all I’m doing… is bringing him back…”

Mikasa stopped in her tracks, as if waiting for Annie to throw a comment or two at how lame her wording was, or at how far fetched that goal seemed to be, but Annie didn’t. Whether she decided to ignore it or not, Mikasa couldn’t decide, but Annie did ask about something else: “By the way, do you not wear that scarf any longer?”

Mikasa swallowed and counted to three in her mind, before she started walking again, and without looking back, she answered Annie’s question: “I have it… but I’m not wearing it right now.”

And with that, Mikasa left Annie to her thoughts, undaring to look back at her; there was nothing more to add anyway.

Mikasa walked to where the others were, everyone in a blurry rush fetching tools or discussing engineering stuff that Mikasa wasn’t exactly an expert at. Armin was the center of the conversation, commanding this and that, writing on paper before rushing to Hange, his hands flailing as he talked.

The proud-sister tumor inflated in Mikasa’s chest, even though it probably wasn’t the right time for it. She was proud of him, he learnt all that he knows now in the few years they were opened up to the rest of the world. He did deserve the knowledge because he worked hard for it, restless nights and tiring mornings.

Mikasa couldn’t help but think how things would’ve been if Armin wasn’t a soldier. He would probably be a well respected engineer or doctor, or maybe both. He would’ve published several books before he turned thirty, and he might’ve also settled down with a wife and had children…

It wasn’t foriegn for soldiers to dream about a perfect, happy life, away from ammunation and explosions, far from gun clickes and blood. They were all just dreams after all, and nothing is wrong with concocting these scenarios.

Armin was no different, he surely had his own dreams, had his own fantasies of creating a family, to spend the rest of his life with someone, in peace… but what makes Armin different is that he already found that someone, and that someone found him too.

It made sense, Mikasa thought, Armin did vanish sometimes without warning, and when he came back he wouldn’t tell where he had been, or he would try some lame lie that Mikasa would easily see through. She never pushed him to confess.

But now she knew.

He was in a dim-lit basement, surrounded by cold, mute walls, as he watched a girl, for hours on end.

The look in Annie’s eyes flashed at the front of Mikasa’s mind; the fondness, the dreamy-gaze, and something else swarming her blue eyes, a storm twirling inside her that was going to overflow out her eyes, pouring into similar blue eyes, with an identical storm behind blue orbs.

Unexplainable sensations flurried in Mikasa’s chest, she couldn’t pinpoint if they were pity or guilt, maybe it was a mix of both.

Armin, out of all people, who would’ve thought that he would have something for Annie? The girl he ratted out four years ago? Maybe Mikasa shouldn’t be as surprised as she was; something was majestic yet bewildering about these two.

Annie and Armin…

A match made in heaven, or hell, she couldn’t tell.

Mikasa deposited the equipment she was carrying in their designated place, before she turned around to look at Armin once again; he was in mid discussion with Reiner and an engineer standing beside them -she deemed that he was giving some sort of instructions for Reiner while using aid from that engineer- before they nodded at each other and separated paths, Reiner joining Jean and the rest, and that Engineer hurrying to write something down.

While Armin stood there for a second longer, glancing at the girl sitting by the water.

And Mikasa wanted to wipe off that expression on his face; a mixture of sadness, hopelessness, and straight up sickness in love. 

She looked back and forth between Armin and Annie, as if her glances alone would create a magnetic field between them and draw them together. She was determined to make it happen.

There was no guarantee what this night would lead them to, and Mikasa didn’t want Armin to live in regret. She wanted him to let out whatever he had in his mind, talk to Annie, and maybe spend a few minutes with her.

Maybe it wasn’t the best time for it, but there was a high chance that it was their last opportunity too.

Mikasa glanced one more time between them, before she walked up to Armin and put an arm on his shoulder: “Armin… I think you should see something…” 

Mikasa beckoned Armin away from the harbor, ignoring the fact that his cheeks were tinted with the slightest hue of pink. And with a questioning yet concerned look, Armin followed along Mikasa, unaware of her shooting a glance at Annie, accompanied with a wink.

They walked away from the plane and the others, and Armin didn’t complain or question it, because if Mikasa said there was something urgent, then he must follow up with her, even if she was taking him away from the task he was supposed to be involved in. One eye on the path in front of him, and the other one glancing at the blonde behind his back.

He kept glancing back at that girl’s figure, but she wasn’t looking back at him.

He turned his head, and watched his feet drag him behind Mikasa.

On their left was the ocean, a reflective mirror of the stars-adorned sky. On their right was a row of alleys divided by vacant buildings. Each alley a portal to an unpredictable darkness, an endless black that seemed to stretch on and on.

“There’s something that I think you should probably see, it’s… uh, important” Mikasa said after they had been walking for a few minutes. The flying boat was as big as a melon from their place, and Armin kept looking at it over his shoulder, as if the flying boat and everyone else could disappear at any second.

“Uh… Mikasa is everything ok?”

“Not really.”

“Oh…” Armin eyed his feet, “can you… tell me?”

“No.”

Armin was silent for a second. They don’t have any spare time to waste, and Mikasa is one step ahead of him, her feet steady and not hesitant. 

“I will not tell you,” Mikasa said, as she suddenly stopped, she swieveled her head to the right, staring down at a dark, abandoned alley, a swift smile pulled on her lips, “I will show you.”

She stepped into the alley, diving into it, until her dark silhouette was one with the darkness. The line of her black silky hair blending with dark-shadowed bricks of the narrow place.

Armin stood a bit longer outside, a sudden rush of loneliness sneaked into his veins, and he wasn’t sure what was going on, or what was yet to come. He glanced one more time at the flying boat, then beside it, only to notice that the small figure that he was watching earlier was nowhere to be seen. Armin sighed, straightened his shoulders, before he walked into the alley, his petite frame plunged into darkness.

A few alleys behind, a nervous girl was leaning against the wall, her heart racing in her chest; not only because she was sprinting just a second ago, but also because she didn’t believe that she was doing this.

She rubbed her head through her blond locks, trying to calm down her breathing. She wasn’t supposed to be nervous, there was nothing to be nervous about.

Yeah, there was nothing to be nervous about.

Inhale

Exhale 

She took one step towards the exit of the alley, but halted when she heard voices.

“Mikasa.... It’s been some time, are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

A beat of silence.

“Five more minutes.”

A very loud sigh.

“Mikasa we don’t have time…”

Annie swallowed, the sound of her gulping so loud, it deafened the ambiance.

She took a deep breath, not any longer sure if this was a good or a bad idea… she could just turn around and leave, and once Mikasa waits for too long, she’ll leave with Armin, make up some excuse, and that would be it…

A Hint of guilt weighed down at the bit of her stomach; Mikasa did all of this for her, despite it being too sudden and not discussed before, but that wink that Mikasa threw at Annie was enough explanation for Annie on what to do. 

She can’t do this, she doesn’t want to do this. After some thought, she decided that she’ll hide in this alley until Mikasa and Armin leave. She took two heavy steps deeper into the alley, encompassing herself within pitchblack darkness-

She heard sounds.

“Armin, I know, it’s ok…”

“Mikasa…?”

“I know it… it’s just…”

Annie heard shuffling, then footsteps, before Armin’s voice was heard once again.

“Hey hey Mikasa where are you going?”

“You just stay there for five more minutes, if nothing happens, get back to the flying boat.”

“Hey! You can’t just leave like that!”

Annie heard footsteps trying to catch up, then right at the exit of the alley, she saw Mikasa.

“Mikasa wait,” Armin’s voice rose again, and this time it was much more closer than before, and Annie instinctively tiptoed further down the alley, before she pushed her back against the wall.

“Wait, Mikasa.”

Annie watched as a hand held Mikasa from her wrist, halting her. Mikasa looked around, her glance towards Annie lingered a bit longer, even though Annie was sure she was immersed in the darkness and couldn’t be seen, but she still held her breath, and felt so stupid for doing so.

“Armin, trust me,” Mikasa said, a beat of stillness followed, before Armin let go of her, and retreated his steps. Mikasa glanced one last time at where Annie was hiding, before hastily rushing back to the flying boat.

Annie heard Armin sigh, then the echo of his steps as he walked back to the alley Mikasa told him to stay in.

Once his footsteps were out of earshot, Annie let out a breath that almost suffocated her lungs, and once again she was left in silence.

Annie slanted back against the brick wall, the jagged stone digging into her skin, her jaw clenching and her teeth gritting. She closed her eyes, tried to take a deep breath, but air was blocked halfway through her windpipe. She gave up on relaxing her nerves, so she opened her eyes, and stared at the far, dark sky, lit with those mesmerizing, marginal lights, twinkling on and off in harmony. 

Armin had his hands in his pockets, for the night was growing strangely cold, and he kept shifting his weight from one feet to the other, clicking his tongue, and trying to make these five minutes pass faster.

But they were going slow.

Excruciatingly slow.

After one minute, Armin debated the idea whether he should leave already. Nothing was happening, and probably nothing would.

But then, it got to his mind, that… well, if nothing was happening, and he had to spend these five minutes here anyway, then why shouldn’t he… maybe take them as a break…

But you don’t have time to waste.

Just five minutes and I’ll go back to them.

You could do many things in those five minutes.

Yes but I also can take a break.

You’re not taking a break.

I am! 

No, you’re overthinking, that’s not how breaks work.

But-

Just go back to work.

Armin sighed, kicked the heel of his foot at the wall, before he pushed himself off of it, and walked to the exit of the alley. However, something unexplainable made him stop, and some sort of an interior calling made him tilt his head up, his eyes gazing at the sky.

For a second, all the thoughts that were swarming his mind departed, and he was left alone in what felt like an endless moment of silence, an undisturbed stillness that he could get used to, with nothing to be worried about, with nothing crowding his head.

He found that, after all, he wanted to spend those five minutes -or whatever was left of them- in this stillness.

And he did, just looking up, gazing at each star for some time, before another star glistened brighter and caught his eye.

He didn’t connect shapes out of the stars’ order, nor did he think of anything. Strangely, he found each star to be an individual. Each one has its own space and its own way of shining, not more or less glamorous but just different.

And even when he tried to connect these together, he just couldn’t, each diamond was a thing of its own, and Armin found an incomprehensible satisfaction in it.

And the five minutes passed faster than he would like.

Armin realized that it was enough.

He started walking to the exit of the alley. A tiny bit of weight was left off his shoulders, and with every breath he took, his lungs were filled and the blood in his veins was pumping with renewed hope into his body.

This time, nothing was holding him back from going back to his task.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

And the moment he stepped foot outside the alley, he was startled to find out that he wasn’t alone.

“...Annie?”

~~~~~

A minute earlier, when Annie was debating whether or not she should go on with this unforeseen ‘plan’, she would’ve been grateful if the darkness swallowed her whole, just one big bite, vanishing from this world.

But she found her feet taking her to where Armin was, her mind detached from her body, and her legs grew their own set of brains, walking on their own.

The coldness of the night crawling under her skin, sending shivers down to the tips of her toes.

And after a suffocated exhale left her lungs, she was face to face with him.

The chilly, crisp night froze her in the spot. Her legs’ brains evaporated into nothing, and her mind took control, but it only screamed at her, telling her that she was an idiot for doing this, it was pointless and embarrassing and awkward-

“Armin,” she blurted his name out, barely recognizing her own voice.

“Yes, Annie,”

She was jealous of how steady his voice was, even though she emerged from the unexpected, but he was still composed, and she couldn’t help but think how their roles were switched at this moment; the flustered is galant, and the prosaic is fidgety.

“I… uh…” Annie was searching for anything to say, literally anything, but when she noticed the way the stars were reflected in his eyes, it was identical to when she was watching their reflection in the ocean, endless, limitless.

Armin tilted his head, beckoning her to continue, and all she got out was “do you have a moment?”

Armin looked right and left, as if he was checking if Annie was alone or not, but Annie misinterpreted that he was in a rush and was searching for an excuse to reject her question. Out of defence, she took a step back and held a hand against her chest: “It’s ok nevermind you’re obviously busy, nevermind really, I’m sorry, I’ll just head back-”

“Annie,” Armin reached out for her hand, letting the tips of his fingers touch it, not strong enough to hold it, but enough to catch her attention, “yes, I do have a moment.”

Annie’s eyes widened, and involuntary, her hand flinched away from his, and she immediately regretted it when a flash of disappointment and bewilderment crossed Armin’s face. She didn’t understand why she had such a reaction, however, Armin smiled, half a smile, but still a smile nonetheless, and asked what she was doing here.

“I was looking for you.”

Armin wondered Annie’s face, and for a fleeting second, he wanted to ask how she, out of all places, came to look for him there, but the way Annie was avoiding his eyes made him stop. Instead, he said: “Yeah, I mean…” What was he trying to say?

“I just wanted to, um, tell you something,” Annie continued, not waiting for Armin to finish his thought. He was still for a second, but that second stretched into a longer pause.

Annie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her arms crossing, rubbing up and down her biceps, before she cleared her throat and said, shaking her head: “You know you really don’t have to wait any longer,” she took a step backwards, “I’m sorry, I won’t hold you back any longer-”

“No no wait!” Armin reached for her for the second time, and he cursed himself for making this awkward for both of them, his hand froze mid way, stretching to touch her wrist, “I think I need a word with you too.”

A beat of silence.

Annie let her hand fall by her side. She opened her mouth to say something, but she ended up only nodding her head twice.

And then, both of them were leaning against the building, watching the dark horizon, and a bright, fluorescent spot of luminous light far from them, where the others were in the midst of getting the flying boat ready. Annie’s hand crossing her chest, and Armin’s were in his pockets.

Armin realized that Annie won’t start any kind of conversation, so he kicked the heel of his foot once against the wall, before he cleared his throat, glanced at Annie and started: “I’m sorry.”

Annie swiveled her head towards him, her eyebrows furrowed, uncertain if she heard correctly. She tilted her head questionably to the side.

“Um…” Armin licked his lips, “about earlier, in the storage room, I was… somewhat… all over the place.”

Annie’s mouth shaped in an O, recalling what he was talking about. She blinked once, twice, before she said: “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Armin chuckled and scratched the nape of his neck: “Well, I just… I thought I probably should.”

Annie hummed, not knowing how to respond to that, and her mind already at the next destination; to commence what she was here for in the first place. She took in a silent, shaky breath: “Armin.”

In response, Armin looked at her.

And she was, again, under the spell of his eyes, his blue eyes, that were a darker shade of blue in the darkness of the night. A part of her wondered if he was aware of what his eyes do to her, how they hypnotized her in an endless loop, a trance that she was cloistered within.

She wasn’t aware that he was as lost in her eyes as she was in his.

Annie looked to the side, breaking the spell, a cold wave washing over her chest, as if calling out Armin’s name drained her of all the courage that she had a minute ago, she inhaled, exhaled, and decided to just get over with it.

“I’m not coming with you.” She said.

Silence. 

“I don’t wanna fight, I don’t want to go on the flying boat.”

“Oh..” Armin couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice, he was, in fact, counting on her; Annie was irreplaceable.

“It’s… it’s not what you’re thinking,” Annie looked at him, “it’s not that I don’t believe in the plan, there are no other plans anyway, but... it’s me, I’ve had enough of fighting.”

“Annie…”

“And I’m sick of doing this, and I can’t find a reason to shed blood anymore,”

“Annie.”

“And I don’t know if this is the right thing to do or not, but I just…”

Armin put his hand on her shoulders, and Annie’s breath caught in her throat. For a split second, she forgot what she was saying, before she shook her head and caught back on from where she left: “I want to live the rest of my life in peace.”

She watched his face, waiting for him to leave, to walk away and leave her alone by herself, to tell her that she chickened out at the last moment, that she disappointed him.

But he didn’t.

He put his other hand on her shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes, and with a sad smile in his voice, he said: “You don’t have to explain yourself, it’s fine, I understand,” his hand traveled from her shoulder, up until it caressed her cheeks.

And Annie didn’t flinch back, nor did she react in any way. Time and space stopped, and she was suspended mid air, warm wind thrashing all over her body. She glanced at his hands, wondering how this simple gesture made heat tingle her skin, and she was warm warm.

Annie sighed, her shoulders slumped, and not until then did she realize the tension that was pressing between her shoulders and her tensed neck.

“I wish I could not fight either,” Armin’s hands dropped, and he glanced at his feet, before he turned his eyes back to her, “I really wish so, but… I have no choice, my case is… different than yours.”

Annie eyed Armin’s face, his eyes dropping down at the corners, maybe he was tired, but most likely thinking of how he’s gonna face Eren with Mikasa and the others drained him of energy. She wondered if he was going to break down again, and imagined herself holding his weight within her arms again, running her fingers through his hair, and telling him that everything will be ok, that it will all be over soon.

Lies lies lies.

But they sounded good enough that they would believe them.

Annie swallowed, before she took a step closer to Armin.

He tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows barely rising, but then warmth engulfed Armin’s hand, and when he looked down, he saw Annie’s fingers holding his, her grip around his palm is firm yet soft, and he kept observing her, until he felt something warm slip around his finger.

His eyelids flickered in confused blinks. He locked wide eyes with Annie’s soft ones, whose eyebrows were furrowed together, her cheeks red even in the dark of the night, a strand of hair curtaining her forehead.

Annie let go of Armin’s hand, and he lift it up to sight’s level-

A shiny, silver ring was on his finger.

Armin flipped his hand over and over, inspecting the ring skeptically. His brain was suddenly clogged with thoughts and he was no longer sure what just happened.

“It’s,,, not much,” Annie said, her eyes at the ground, watching her feet and Armin’s, “but since I’m no longer fighting… you will need it more than I do.”

Armin's mouth opened and closed several times, before he took off the ring - Annie’s infamous ring- and held it on his palm as if it was fragile glass, he frantically said: “Annie no, I mean thanks but no, this is something from your father, it could be the only thing… I can’t take it, I can’t.”

“Can’t you just shut up for a second!” Annie bursted and Armin’s eyes widened, because her face was even redder than a second before, and her fists were clenched by her side and… 

“I know, ok? I KNOW, I know this ring is… it means a lot to me, it has done many things… and I just… I…” 

And Armin stood there, watching as Annie was trying to combine two words together to make a sentence, but failing again and again and again, and Armin, through her intangible tirade, understood what she’s trying to say; she wanted to contribute in some way. She’s not completely forgiving herself to leave them behind…

Annie was still looking down, so he put a finger under her chin, tilting it up, and without thinking about it,  he leaned closer, his eyelids fluttering closed, until he felt the warmth of her lips on his, soft and tightly closed together. He lingered for a second, before he pulled away, his eyes opening, meeting her vastly-opened ones.

“I get what you mean,” he whispered, his mind still not catching up on the fact that he just kissed Annie, and that he probably fucked up because she was frozen in her place, “Annie, I get what you mean…” and he leaned forward again, his forehead resting against hers. He heard Annie’s sharp inhale, and a marginal part at the back of his mind was shocked at how he himself was this… something.

Just a few hours ago, his face was flaming hot when he told her that he just wanted to see her…

“Annie…” he whispered her name, and his own voice sounded like it was miles away, but close and deafening loud at the same time. He felt as if he was soaring up with the clouds or maybe a hundred feet under water.

Annie swallowed, her mind fuzzy and her breath erratic. She couldn’t decide if Armin actually just kissed her. His lips felt like a feather against hers, and her stomach did flips and her skin was on fire, and she hated that all of this was because of a kiss, just one simple kiss.

She watched Armin’s eyes, only inches away from her own, his eyelids half lidded and he seemed as if he was in a trance. She liked the warmth from his forehead touching hers, his breath warm on her face. She rubbed their foreheads together, a smile pulled on his lips.

She found herself mirroring that smile.

Her heart was calming down in her chest, blood was flooding back to her legs and she felt like she could finally move, so she reached for Armin’s hand, and took the ring, slipping it once again on his finger, her movement indicating finality, and that everything was settled, Armin was not leaving without her ring, he was leaving with a piece of herself.

Armin smiled at the ring on his finger, and for some reason, it was satisfying to see it around his finger, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but it was pleasing. He looked again at Annie, and in that moment, he realized something deep down inside him, something that he couldn’t find in anyone but Annie, something she was the only one who could make him feel.

And he leaned once again, meeting Annie’s lips in the middle.

His arms around her frame, and her hands on his shoulders, their embrace is getting tighter, their lips moving together. Shy, inexperienced pecks, their jaws moving in sync, lips connecting over and over and over again.

Each kiss ignited a candle in them, sending shivers rolling on their skin. Experiencing something new, exciting, but timid and intimate.

The sheepish kisses grew bolder.

Armin’s hand on Annie’s back started to roam, and her toes curled in her leather shoes, heat igniting in her chest. Something was bubbling in her stomach, a pleasing sense of bubbling, and she only kissed him harder, her kisses becoming short but harsh. He was taken aback first, but then returned her actions with similar passion. Her hand tracing his neck, up and down, until they tangled in his hair, while the other hand wandered to his cheek, cupping it gently, contrasting her bruising kisses.

Her fingers left fire in their trail, and his skin was hot and warm and he needed to take a breath but couldn’t pull himself back, away from her, away from her embrace, away from this feeling.

And it was her, she was the one who made him feel this way. He didn’t understand why, he didn’t get how a human could make another human feel this kind of way, that everything is gonna be alright, gives each other a reason to be alive. He wondered if he was made just to be in this moment, that his purpose of living is to be here, in her arms, with his frame pressed against her, feeling every curve and dip of her body against his own.

Both fitting each other perfectly, like two right pieces of a puzzle.

And soon they found themselves sneaking into the alleyway, far from any scrutinizing eyes, just him and her, focused on each other, hands running over each other's bodies, touching whatever they can with clothes as a barrier between them.

The narrow place was getting hotter, unbearably warm.

In that moment, even if it was a bubble of unrealistic-wishes, they felt like they were normal teenagers. Just a girl and a boy in love and doing what teenagers do. It was a desire that they longed for, but it was so far from their reach.

Armin pulled away with a gasp, his embrace around Annie tighter. He traced kisses along Annie’s jaw, then he dipped his head, and placed kisses on her neck.

She tugged at his hair, pulling their bodies even closer. Her mouth opened in a silent moan, as he nipped at her skin.

She wished she could stay here forever, only this moment, him and her, tangled together.

Armin wondered how things would’ve been if Annie didn’t crystalize herself for four years.

He wondered how things would’ve been if he didn’t tell on Annie, was it impossible if he found another way to solve that? Any other way? 

Armin didn’t blame Annie for betraying them, because she didn’t, she was never on their side to betray them from the first place.

She just wanted to go back home to her father, to compensate for all those lost years and live a normal life. And if Armin’s grandpa was still alive, Armin knew that he could do the impossible to be with him, to live the rest of his life in happiness with him.

“Armin…” she whispered his name, his hands and lips stopped their movements, and he opened his eyes.

Her hands reached for his cheeks, rubbing them, before she whispered, her voice out of breath: “Why are you crying?” 

At first Armin didn’t understand what she was referring to, not until his eyes got blurry. His hands wiped at his eyes; they were wet.

He stared confused at his hand, he didn’t know when he started crying, but after he was aware of it, his throat tightened, and more tears spilled from his eyes, however, no sounds left his mouth.

When he looked back at Annie, she had tears in her eyes too…

His hand wiped her tears, and she did the same to him.

Maybe they realized that this all was for nothing.

That it was already too late…

Their future in the next few hours was uncertain, and no one knew the end of it, or if it would end in the first place.

Annie’s chest tightened on her lungs, she was losing her breath, her exhales coming out as erratic blows of air, her eyes stinging, and she cursed herself, for this one moment, this one moment of peace had to be ruined by an avalanche of hopelessness, leaving her cold. She held Armin’s shoulders, and tried to clear her blurry sight, to look at his face, and memorize it forever, engrave it on her mind, so it stays in her memory for the rest of her days.

And he was doing the same, he brushed hair out of her face, and he wished he could always remember how soft it felt between his fingers, like a piece of the clouds, or at least this is what he imagined. Her eyes so blue like an ocean under the afternoon’s sun.

He wanted to wipe away that sad pout she had on her face, because he didn’t want this one special moment to go to waste, so he leaned down and kissed the pout away, a gentle kiss, long enough until he felt her lips relax against his and her arms once again wrapping around his neck.

Then Armin pulled away, looked in her eyes, before he whispered: “Thank you, Annie.”

“You better take care of the ring, and you better bring it back.”

He threw his head back and chuckled, then he cupped her cheeks, and said once again, this time his voice is clear and firm: “Thank you, Annie.”

Annie’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Thank you,” he kissed her eyebrows, “for,” then kissed her nose, “not,” a kiss on her cheek, “giving up,” and he ended his route with a kiss on her forehead.

Annie stood there, looking in Armin’s blue eyes, perplexed, not knowing how to react or what to say, her cheeks were heating up, and she would appreciate cold water to be splashed at her face.

So she wrapped her arms around Armin, and buried her face in his neck, as his hands wrapped around her frame. They stood in each other’s embrace, wishing that they could stay like that forever, but eventually, they had to let go, and Armin had to head back.

With one final kiss, they were separated from each other.

Annie watched him walk away, every few steps he would glance back at her, with a sad smile on his face, before he turned to look at her one last time, he waved, then turned and kept walking, not glancing back anymore.

Annie was glad no one was around her, she certainly didn’t like to be seen while she was crying.

She watched the blurry reflection of the stars in the ocean, and closed her eyes. She wanted to sleep and wake up when all of this was over, but that was impossible, and if she wanted to be over with it, then she had to go through it, with all its pain and beauty, with all its ups and downs, she had to go through it, to fight through it, to get her peaceful life, the life she always longed for.

Annie ran her finger over where the ring used to be. Despite the tears, a small smile pulled at her lips, as she felt the smooth skin of her finger instead of a steel circular metal, her smile growing wider as she pictured that ring on Armin’s finger.

And at the flying boat, where everyone was rushing with tools and equipment, sometimes Armin would find himself staring at the ring, recalling Annie’s soft touch on his hand, his lips on hers, then when he’s awaken from his daydreaming, he would frantically look around as if he was caught red handed, to find that the only one who noticed his little blackout was no other than Mikasa, with a small smile on her face.

He would look away and busy himself with anything.

Soon afterwards, the sun creeped from behind the ocean, coloring the water with soft streaks of orange and pink, the sky was clear with no clouds, and it was a peaceful day so far, unfair to be this serene for what was yet to come.

And when everything was ready, and it was decided that Annie wouldn’t go along with them, she was trying so hard to avoid any sort of emotional moment with Armin, she wasn’t ready to let him go, but that didn’t matter, because he was leaving anyway.

So, she waved goodbye to everyone, her eyes lingering on Armin for a long second, his eyes weren’t shiny as they used to be. She ignored the feelings that started to inflate in her chest, turning away, walking as fast as she could from all of that.

And now she is leaning against the railing of the ship, seagulls cooing over her head, the blue sky adorned with spontaneous puffs of white cloud.

Peace...

She traced her ring finger, as she observes the ocean and the sky, wondering if he was still alive, wondering if he’ll keep his promise and come back with her ring…

And Annie waits.

 .

.

.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this!!

 I kinda projected my life into this fic… I mean, the past year wasn’t the best, and life isn’t going easy on me, and… it’s something that I kinda struggle with, which is opening up to others.

Idk why, but I can’t just talk to others about what’s actually troubling me, most likely because I feel they won’t understand anyway, and another part of me doesn’t wanna annoy anyone. I don’t wanna bother, I don’t wanna complain.

And I kept all of that in me until I exploded a few weeks ago, I didn’t leave my bed for weeks, feeling like everything I do is worthless, and that there’s no point in trying.

Suddenly I’m no longer doing any hobbies, I’m no longer reading or writing, and everything is so gloomy and I can’t enjoy anything…

And… I’m certainly doing better now, I’m back at writing (not as much as I’d like, but better than nothing) and I’m reading again…

I didn’t open up to anyone, and I kept it all inside.

And that was wrong, I wished I talked to someone, anyone, but I didn’t… 

This rant is getting too long, it’s 5am and I don’t even know what I’m saying…

BUT

I just wanna say… you guys should take care of yourselves, please, find someone that you can talk to, someone you can open up to, and trust me, everything would be much more easier.

These are hard times and it’s unfair that we have to go through all of this, but… we’re stronger than this, and we’ll continue, and we’ll tell tales of how we survived a very hard time and that we were victorious.

It’s not easy, I know, but we can manage.

Ok that’s it… I usually don’t share personal feelings on any social media but I realized that a lot of people are going through exactly what I’m struggling with… and I wanted them to know that they’re not alone.

Thank you guys so much for reading, I appreciate it

OH AND ONE LAST THING 

I was thinking about taking requests, just so I can get back at writing, soooo if you guys have any ideas or prompts, please leave them in the comments or ask me on tumblr 

I WOULD LOVE TO

OK THAT’S IT LOVELIES

HAVE A GOOD DAAAYY

[anobscurename]

ocean eyes – chris evans

concept: this is more a collection of happenings, the little moments with him, rather than a whole thought-out fic. the slowest of slow burns. there will be many more parts. this is the night you met.

pairing: chris evans x reader.

word count: 1,541

warnings: none, except a bit of profanity.

author’s note: hi, this is my first time writing on here. i hope you enjoy it, i’d love any and all feedback!

Running.

He was running away from a horde of screaming fans and paparazzi, trying to prevent himself from getting mauled after he was unceremoniously outed during an afternoon to himself. And it’s not that he doesn’t love his fans, it’s just… these ones are truly psycho fanatics; the kind that faint and scream and claw at their idol in an attempt to scrape off even the tiniest scrap of DNA to clone him with. And he had tried walking away, but they had followed, and then the paparazzi were there, all but giving him an epileptic episode with their flashing cameras, goading (or attempting to goad) him into a front page worthy melt down or explosive reaction. It was too much for him – it was just too much happening. So he ran.

Not very far away, you were waiting for your date. A stupid Tinder one that you somehow got persuaded into. But, just as luck would have it, homeboy was late, and your reservation was on the verge of being cancelled.

You had even dressed up for this: a short, pretty little slip dress, strappy heels, made an actual effort with makeup and hair and… Ugh. Fuck him. Honestly, you didn’t even know why the fuck you bothered. You checked your phone again, checking the time. For a moment you debated leaving Mr Tinder a scathing message, but you glimpsed an approaching taxi that happened to be mercifully vacant. You stepped off the curb, into the driver’s eyeline, waving him over. He pulled up to you and you opened the door, about to duck inside when you heard the sound of a thousand screams, and the jumbled taunts of paparazzi.

Briefly distracted, you didn’t even realise that you’d been shoved into the taxi by the object of their desire until the door was slammed shut behind you and the unwelcome cab thief.

You supposed you should’ve been fearful – you had heard terrifying things about kidnappers and sex traffickers and strange men who follow pretty women home – but you were more pissed the fuck off than anything.

“Can I help you?” You ground out from behind grit teeth. Tonight was meant to be a lovely evening of being wined and dined by an admittedly cute Tinder match. Not whatever this was, with… okay, you’d hand it to him, he was a looker. But still, this was your cab and you were filled with a vehement annoyance.

He ignored you; obviously. His focus was on the mob that were drawing closer with every passing second, and he needed to get away. Like, now.

“Where to?” The cabbie snapped, irritation laced in his words.

The stranger looked at you for guidance. You glared at him.

“Look, I’ll pay, I just need to get out of here. Go wherever you need to go, I don’t care, just as long as it’s away from here.”

You huffed, and murmured an address to the cabbie. It was the restaurant you had reservations at. And you didn’t care if you dined alone; you looked good and you were not going to wallow at home when you knew how good you looked. Apparently, so did he, judging by the feel of his heated gaze raking over your figure in a quiet and respectful appreciation.

When you looked at him, though, he was looking out the window. His breathing had slowed to a more peaceful pace, as opposed to the erratic pants of earlier exertions. Sweat lightly slicked his skin, highlighting a chiseled jawline and the defined angular slashes of his cheekbones in the passing flashes of streetlights.

He appeared pleasantly surprised to be pulling up outside a restaurant. It was a local Italian joint – one your friend introduced to you when you had moved to “her side of the world.” It was quaint, but charming. Candles flickered on every table, the tablecloths checked in red and white in the ultimate romantic cliché. You started getting out, and a twinge of something unidentifiable tugged in your stomach. Maybe you didn’t want to dine alone tonight…

You turned and ducked your head to peer into the cab to give him a quick, studied once over. Blond hair tousled from his escape, long lashes fanning out shadows over ocean blue eyes, hooded with exhaustion.

You decided then that he wasn’t a lowlife that was going to murder you and wear your skin. Not that you were a good judge of character in any way, shape, or form, but… He seemed so familiar, and you were feeling confident and he actually seemed nice (enough to pay the cab fare) and you decided to follow your gut just this once.

So you did something that surprised even yourself. “Well? Are you coming?” You asked.

He arched his brows, a mixture of amusement and surprise curving his lips in a small but dazzling smile. “On your date?”

You rolled your eyes. It was obvious you were meant to be on a date – you were overdressed for a dinner alone – but the reminder that you got stood up caused a brief twinge in the gut. “It’s not a date. You at least owe me an explanation for your hijacking of my vehicle. Come on,” you tipped your head in the direction of the restaurant.

He fumbled briefly with his jacket, before pulling out a billfold of cash. Peeling some stray dollars from the rest, he handed them to the cabbie before clambering out, his long limbs moving simultaneously gracefully and yet clumsily as he straightened from tripping a little on the door. The cabbie pulled away from the curb after the sound of the doors shutting permitted it.

“So, not a date, you said?” He was laughing at you, you could see it in his eyes: the jovial teasing. He took in the couples at the tables, all but feeding pizza to each other with their tongues, before smirking at you.

He looked so familiar, just then. Seeing him in the light – smirk gracing his lips – he looked so so familiar, and you had no clue where you may have encountered him before. You liked to pride yourself on being a very good names-and-faces person, so this? Infuriating as hell. “Have we… Sorry, have we met before? I know your face, but I just… don’t know where I know it… from?” You were faltering, realising how awkward you must’ve sounded. Fuck, you really hoped he wasn’t someone important or easily offended or…

For the second time that night, he looked pleasantly surprised. A shocked grin broke across his face. “You don’t know me?”

“Oh, God…” You pursed your lips and cringed inwardly. You prayed he wasn’t someone you should know. Like a Nobel Peace Prize winner, or something. That would be all kinds of embarrassing. “Should I?”

“Uh…” He briefly seemed at a loss for words, before his lopsided grin became much more genuine. “No, it’s fine. I just have, you know, one of those faces. I get mistaken for someone someone knows all the time. I’m Chris.” He held a hand out for you to shake. “And to put your mind at ease, we haven’t met. It’d be hard to forget such a pretty face.” He winked as you took his hand.

Relief flooded your body when he told you the last bit. The part about not meeting each other; the cheesy line that followed earned an eye roll at best. “{Your name}. Now, can we please go in, because I’m quite literally wearing nothing and it’s freezing and I’m starving and…”

He was already tugging you inside by the hand he still held from the handshake. The bell above the door chimed as you all but fell in. You missed the look he gave you though, as you went to get your table. The look that swept you in quiet admiration, the look that included the subtle swipe of his tongue across his lower lip.

You found a booth in the back (they had basically tossed your reservation aside given your tardiness) and you waved Chris over.

You told each other about yourselves that night. Random things, like your top favourite songs of all time, your favourite films, your favourite foods. You argued and debated flavour superiority in ice cream, and presented to each other ridiculous and impossible “would you rather” scenarios. You told him about the asshole whose seat in which he now sat, and together, you both composed a drunken – but no less scathing – message of admonishment to him. And somewhere after the second bottle of wine (Chris got the expensive kind, in consolation of a failed date and a hijacked cab), the conversation became less random, more serious. You didn’t even realise you were the only ones left in the restaurant until the owner, a pleasant and elderly man, began locking up.

Waiting outside, his jacket (amusingly oversized on you) draped over your shoulders, huddled close to Chris’ body and tucked under his arm for warmth, you realised two things: you hadn’t uncovered the reason behind why he had stolen your cab.

But the second thing was: you didn’t really care anymore – you were just glad he had.

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

Darkest Little Paradise

Blue Jones Modern/Mob Boss AU ish

A/N: I have no fking clue what possessed me to write this but here we are  Im so sorry for this dumpsterfire

Pairing: Blue Jones x fem!Agent!Reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ sub/dom themes, bondage themes, orgasm denial, dubcon???, dirty talk, praise kink, THAT GIF OH GOD

Word count: ~2.5k

You were going to die tonight. You were sure of it. No one lives to see another day after double-crossing the most notorious man in the city. Let alone someone who got into his club, his lair, his bed.

Blue Jones’ strip club was just a front for his more illegal activities, money laundering, drugs and arms dealing. Youhad joined as bartender as a secondary for our colleague’s mission and you caught the eye of the head within the first week of you employment. By the next few weeks, you and Blue had christened every surface of his office. And you had gotten a good look of the ‘behind the scenes’. It technically wasn’t a part of your job but you did it just because you wanted to. And getting a look into his operations was just an added benefit.  

Things turned to shit just as quickly, when your colleague’s cover was blown. You’d been forced to cut your losses and rescue your him from the man you were sleeping with. Your tactical team had caught Blue with two of his dealers and you had personally handcuffed him and shoved him into the armored vehicle. But where you had expected to see anger or betrayal, you had only seen mirth in his eyes.

That look haunted your dreams for nights. For days, you had sat in the courtroom, being forced to watch the jury dismiss every single evidence against him as circumstantial. 

Today, the jury had pronounced him innocent. And Blue Jones walked out of the fire unscathed. An entire year’s work gone down the drain with absolutely nothing to tie the crimes to the man himself. But at least two of his dealers were convicted, your superiors told you. For them it was a win. But not for you.

—-

You kick your apartment door close, frustration getting the best of you. Your bag goes flying in one direction and you kick off your heels, storming into the kitchen looking for that bottle of scotch in your cabinet not even bothering to turn the lights on. You slam you glass atop the dining table and pour a generous amount of liquor into it.

“Hey there, sweetness,” you jump at the smooth voice that sounds from the dark behind you. “Oh no no, baby,” The voice coos when you try to turn around, the cold barrel of a gun pressing into the back of your neck. You freeze as a warm body presses into your back, pining your hips against the table, reaching around you for the glass. You hear a scoff, then the sound of glass shattering as he tosses it against a wall. “Drinking isn’t good for you, sweetheart,” This is it, you think. You’re going to die.

“Show me your hands,” you hesitate for a second and you feel him press the gun harder into your skin. “Go on sweets, I won’t hurt you,” he coos as if he wasn’t holding a gun to your neck. You lift both hands before you, suppressing the tremors that run through you at the thought of what he might do to you. You’d once seen him beat a man’s face to a pulp for trying to steal from him. “It breaks my heart that I can’t trust you anymore sweetheart,” he sighs into your neck, sounding.

You hear the rustle of cloth behind you as he whispers a soft good girl into your ear when you obey. You really shouldn’t be getting turned on when your life was on the line, but here you are anyways. Your thighs clench together of their own volition at his praise and that sultry tone. His hand comes into view, clutching his tie, which he loops around both your wrist and holds them together before lowering his gun.

“I hate guns,” he mumbles more to himself than to you as he carelessly tosses it onto the table and it clattered, coming to rest barely a few inches from you. Blue works the tie around your wrists forming an elaborate knot, humming when he was satisfied with the results. You know you can’t escape it no matter how hard you try. You’ve tried before. He nudges your feet apart with his feet, still clad in the expensive leather shoes he loved so much.

“Put your hands on the table and bend over for me will you?” It isn’t as much of a question as it is a command, and you do as he tells you, your body already complying before your mind comprehends. He’s always had that effect on you. As much as you had hated it at first, it always ended with you having one of the most mind blowing orgasms of your life. Now that you couldn’t resist, even if you tried.

Blue lets out a shuddering breath. You realize it’s a turn on for him, seeing you all spread out and at his mercy. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to concentrate on the trial with you parading around in this fucking pencil skirt?” A violent shiver runs down your spine as he presses his hips against you, his erection evident against your ass. “All I could think about was bending you over the table and having my way with you in front of all those people,” your hips buck against his involuntarily at his words. “You would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you sugar?” He was speaking to you like he usually did when you were lying naked under him on his bed. Not like you had betrayed him and gotten his men arrested.

You eye the gun lying on the table before you. Could you try to reach for it? Do you even have a chance? You could still aim a gun with your wrists tied together. Maybe if you shove Blue backwards hard eno- 

You feel him ruck up your pencil skirt letting his fingers skim against yours thighs, way too close to your sensitive nub, and a wave of arousal hits you out of nowhere. Suddenly, escape is the last thing in your mind, and the gun lays forgotten before you. “I wanna feel you honey,” he breathes above you. “Can I? Let me touch you baby,” his fingers dance along your inner thighs, drawing patterns on the sensitive skin with the tips of his fingers. A hand dips into the waistband of your underwear as you nodded, rubbing circles into your throbbing clit as you whimpered in pleasure.

Blue yanks you up by the back of your shirt, leaning you against his chest as he slips a finger inside your slick folds. Your cry of surprise immediately morphs into moans as he adds another digit, pumping both fingers in and out of you. The heady scent of his cologne and the way he whispers filthy promises into your ear has you shaking in his arms. 

“You want another finger, baby? You need three of my fingers in your greedy little cunt?” His voice sounds high and breathless, like he’s getting off on the sole act of pleasuring you. The obscene sounds of his fingers squelching in your wetness echoes through the small space. Blue pants as heavily as you and he rolls his hips against your ass. He lifts his other hand to wrap his fingers around your throat, pressing his fingertips into the sides of your neck. You hang on to the edge of the table with your bound hands as Blue thrusts another finger inside you, curling them into the spot that makes you see stars. Your eyes roll back and your knees buckle, but his grip around you keeps you upright and flush against him.

You feel yourself rapidly approaching your release and Blue chooses that exact moment to extract his fingers from inside you. A keening cry slips from your mouth as you feel you orgasm dissipate. You whine his name when you feel his chest rumble as he finds humor in your plight. “If you behave, I might let you come, baby,” 

Blue turns you around and you get a good look at him in his crisp white shirt, just missing the usual jacket. He holds you close enough for you to feel the smoothness of his shirt beneath your fingers. You lurch forward, trying to crush you lips against his, every ounce of shame and control thrown out the window. But Blue moves faster, a hand coming up to grab a handful of your hair and yanking it back. A guttural moan slips from your lips and you don’t bother trying to smother it.

“You look a little tense, sweetness,” you feel his hot breath on your skin as he grazes the tip of his nose up the column of your throat. His voice sweeps over you, so sweet and warm like honey, at odds with the way his grip on your hair sends pinpricks of pain through your scalp. “It’s been a frustrating day, hasn’t it?” 

The grip on your hair remains unrelenting as Blue coils his other arm around you, undoing the clasp on your pencil skirt. Then his fingers hook onto the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down all the way and he lets you step out of it. But he makes no move to go beyond that. You twist your fingers into his shirt in frustration.

“You want me to take care of you, sweetheart?” He nips your earlobe, grazing his teeth over the soft bone. “You know I can make you feel so good,” you squirm against him. You know he can make you feel great.

Your body is no longer in your control as he leads you to your couch, lying down on it before he pulls you on top of him, your legs straddling him, skirt bunched up around your hips. And you are grinding against him, hands splayed on his chest, trying to keep yourself upright as you frantically grinding your core against his clothed erection. It doesn’t take long for you to feel another orgasm approaching after the one he just denied you.

Until, he twists his hand into the material of your skirt, forcing you to a stop again. Tears prickle your eyes as you groan in frustration. “I wanna hear you beg for it,” Your arousal is soaking through the material of his pants, he has you all wound up and aching for him. That’s when he negotiates. 

“Blue, please,” your face burns at the sound of your own voice begging for him. “Please let me ride your cock, please,”

“What would your precious partner say if he sees you like this huh, baby?” He huffs a laugh, “Begging me to fuck you like a little slut?” You growl, pushing him harder into the couch, trying to shut him up. But it only encourages him, knowing that his goading was getting a rise from you. “Whoring yourself out to the enemy like this,” he shakes his head clucking. He hisses when you dig your nails into his chest, “You’ve got some claws, kitten,”

He releases his hold on your skirt and you shamelessly paw at his belt, trying your best to make use of your bound hands to undress him. Blue lays back, watching your desperate attempts to pull his pants down and whining in frustration as you fail. He chuckles, finally helping you push it down far enough to pull his length into his hands, giving himself a few short pumps before lining up against your dripping slit.

You lower yourself onto him, watching his mouth fall open as he fills you up, inch by inch. He throws his head back, eyes rolling back as a moan wrenches out of him. His fingers around your waist tightens as your wet heat envelopes him entirely, and his face twists in pleasure. You can’t bring yourself to look away from his gorgeous face, as much as you want to hate it. He groans your name as you start rocking on top of him.

Your real name. Not the alias you used during your time undercover.

“Just like that, you ride my cock so good, kitten.” He pants. His sweet moans and filthy words only drives you on harder. You throw your head back biting back your moans as you chase your release for the third fucking time. “I know you can be a hell lot more louder than that baby girl,” he growls, thrusting his hips to meet yours halfway. “Scream my name, baby. Show me how good I make you feel,”

And so you do. Your mind goes numb with pleasure when he grabs your waist pulling you down onto him at the same him he trusts into you. The only sounds from your mouth is the screams and moans of his name along with a few choice words that would make a sailor blush. 

“I’m gonna come,” you whimper, your pace faltering. Blue flips you onto your back, pinning your wrists above your head and pounds you into the couch. The new angle finds that sweet spot inside of you making your eyes roll back as you whimpered. Blue slips a hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles over your bundle of nerves and your vision whites out as an orgasm shatters through you, back arching skywards, breathy moans falling from your lips. You hear blue groan as your walls clenches and spasms around him and before long, he’s spilling into you.

 It takes a few minutes for Blue to recover his strength and he flips the two of you over again. He holds you against his chest, stroking your hair gently as you lay on top of him, quivering from the aftershocks of your orgasm. An inexplicable ache settles heavily on your chest as you nuzzle your face into his warm neck, breathing in the scent of his worn out cologne. 

“Why are you here,” your voice comes out breathier and a lot softer than you expect and you blame it on your previous activities. 

Blue stays quiet for a few seconds, and then he says, “You’re not one of them,”

“What?” you look up at him.

“You’re not one of the good guys,” he repeats, “You may be fooling yourself, but you can’t fool me, baby,” he tuckes a stray hair begins your ears, “The gun was within your reach on the table sweetheart, I made sure of it. You could’ve used it to escape me, or shoot me, but you didn’t. You wanted to surrender to me.”

Blue really wasn’t someone to make decisions on speculation alone. He had a compulsive need to always be right, to always have a back up plan. You learned it the hard way, you were still learning about it apparently. Realization hits you just then, and your mouth falls open. “The gun wasn’t loaded, was it?”

“Smart girl,” He chuckles, “But not smart enough,” He traces a finger up your spine, “I just came to say goodbye, by the way,”

“Why?” you frown.

“I need to take a small vacation somewhere,” A small smile spreads on him face like he was imagining something. “You see, the people you managed to put behind bars are gonna blame me for it since I walked away without any charges. Everyone knows we weren’t just auditing the accounts alone in my office. So I need a safe place to lay low for a while. I’m flying off in two hours,” 

“And you’re telling me this because you think I won’t be coming after you? Because, I want to surrender to you?” You throw his words back at him, mocking him. “I will, Blue. I’ll find a way to lock you up,” You are fully aware that you are not in the position to be issuing threats but you do it anyways. 

“I know you will,” His sly smirk tells you he had one more trick up him sleeve. “But you have to catch me first,” His lips descends on your as he kisses you fervently. You kiss him back with just as much vigor, and your entire body feels heavy like lead in exhaustion.

Wait, that wasn’t it. Your breaths become shallow as you struggle to hold onto consciousness. Blue pulls away as your head lolls forwards, suddenly too heavy to hold up right. “Shh, don’t fight it baby,” 

Your muddled thoughts came to one final conclusion. Leave it to Blue Jones to chose the most theatrical way to undermine you. That bastard had drugged you. The last thing you feel is blue gathering you up in his arms before your vision goes black.

---

Blue gently settles you on top of you bed, tucking you into the covers. He placed a soft kiss against your forehead, on top of the small frown you sported even unconscious. His heart thrums at the though of the chase he had planned for you.

You had fire, he’d seen it in your eyes when you cuffed him that night. You’ll go after him, Blue was sure of it. He was counting on it.

“See you soon, babygirl,” Blue kisses your cheek one final time before he leaves.

---

Tags: @yougottakeeponkeepinon​ @anetteaneta​ @darksideofclarke​ @woakiees​

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Gotham Comic Con”

The Joker and his girlfriend decided to attend “Gotham Comic Con” this year dressed as The Batman and Cat Woman. It took Y/N some time to convince her boyfriend but here they are about to have fun and nothing could spoil the event. Right?...

“Oh my God, this is awesome!” you giggle entering the venue designated for the yearly special event “Gotham Comic-Con” dressed as Cat Woman.

The Joker is right behind you sporting The Batman outfit and he flexes his knees a few times, growling.

“What’s wrong?” you ask although you have a clue because J’s been complaining about since he got off the van parked on Lot B5.

“I hate these stretchy pants! I don’t know how that asshole does it!”

“You’re the one that insisted to come as Batsy,” you reveal point out the truth. “You could have been anyone else.”

“Like who?”

“Cinderella,” you elbow him and your boyfriend is not a huge fan of the concept.

“Why??!!”

“The drama, obviously,” you keep walking alongside him and he’s definitely ready to blow at your insinuation when you gasp. ”Baby, I think that’s Bane!” you gesture towards a massive individual flaunting a Sub-Zero costume.

“How can you tell?” The Joker squints his eyes and the bubbly Y/N has to say it:

“I would recognize his physique anywhere! Plus, he still has the scar between his eyes,” you pucker your lips and The King mumbles a bunch of PG 13 rated things regarding his business partner.

Why?

Last week they got into a brawling and almost killed each other.

The reason?

Y/N.

The Joker believes that Bane always flirts with you (which he does since he likes to refer to you as “a breath of fresh air”); stuff escalated until you had to break it up: J ended up with a busted lip, Bane with a cut between his eyes due to The Clown trying to stab him in the head and you ended up with an inflated ego.

“Hello Mister B.,” you tap the pile of muscles and he turns around to see who’s bothering him.

“Y/N!” he excitedly exclaims, immediately unhappy at the sight of his business partner. “Joker…” the low tone greets.

“Bane…” J sneers.

“What are you two doing here?” Bane inquires.

“Having fun; I finally convinced him we should do this and mingle for once. No better way to spend the day,” the bubbly comment pleases your conversation partner. “So we dressed up and here we are.”

“I must say you’re like a breath of fresh air,” Bane admires your skin tight costume and stilettos which prompts The Joker’s disapproval:

“If you want fresh air, go outside!”

“Make me!”

Oh no! Not again!

“Are you here alone?” you change the subject and distract them from getting into a fight. Not that you wouldn’t enjoy it, but… too many witnesses at the packed Comic Con, it could end up in a total disaster.

“With my niece and nephew. I lost them for a second and I’m searching the premises; they can’t be far,” Bane reports. “Which reminds me: I should get going and find them otherwise my sister will go ballistic. I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he acknowledges you and ignores your man.

“Bye Mister B.,” The Queen snickers at the evident teasing.

“Just her, huh?” The Joker grumbles. “What about me? Did you forget we have a meeting next week???”

“Too bad and super sad: I’m not talking to you!” Bane’s attitude emerges.

“I certainly could care less because I’m not talking to you either!” The King strikes back.

“Then what are we going to do?” Sub-Zero’s better judgement brings up a good argument.

“Y/N will translate!” J proudly states.

Oh no! Not again!

That means they will snarl and make weird noises and you’ll have to guess what it means; an absolutely excruciating task that even a breath of fresh air can’t accomplish without losing it.

Maybe you should let them kill each other. 

“Fine!” Bane decides and distances himself from the couple while the Joker shouts since he has to have the last word:

“Fine!”

“Mister Batman?” the 5 years old dressed as a hobbit shily tugs on J’s cape.

“Hm?” the fake vigilante looks down. The little boy suddenly sneezes and wipes his nose with the fabric as the mad man is less than lenient at someone ruining the outfit replica he paid a fortune to have.

“Goddamn…” and he can’t finish his sentence because a large group of screaming children surround him in a heartbeat.

“Batman! Batman!” they jump up and down hyped up to see their hero.

“Go away!” J attempts to reason with the sea of kids he has no patience for. Of course nobody can hear him over the deafening sounds that attract more offsprings and parents.

“That’s so cute!” one of the moms gushes and takes a picture. “It’s delightful seeing a guy dressed as The Batman performing such a public service for our town!”

“He loves people, especially babies, “ you lie without blinking and immortalize the moment yourself.

“Awww,” a few people sigh touched by your praises.

“He must be a nice dude,” a kid’s dad concludes and you sweetly smile from under your mask:

“You have no idea.”

Somebody from the crowd places an infant girl in The Joker’s arms and the mob goes ballistic!! Rosie cheeks keeps sucking from her binky, glaring at the interesting person.

Clapping, cheering and whistling intensify whilst J feels compelled by his increasing popularity to lift the 6 months old above his head for everyone to see how cool he is.

This is not bad, The King enjoys an endless string of applause and the sudden explosion occurring in the diaper followed by quite a foul smell puts an end to his exuberance.

“Jesus!” he crinkles his nose, appalled. “Whose kid is this?” he yells and the thrilled parent waves at him, taking back the stinky, adorable bundle of joy. “Uncle Batsy needs to run!!” J makes up a random plan although nobody can hear him: the noise is overwhelming after he hyped them all up.  “Let’s bail before they trap me again! Pretty soon I won’t be able to walk, Princess. Everything is crammed in there, a total mess! I hate stretchy pants!!” he addresses his woman and quickens the pace until an atrocious abomination stops him in his tracks.

A specimen mocking The Joker wearing a purple suit is getting quite the attention: over exaggerated red lips smudged over the lip line, tattoo on the forehead that spells “Cabbaged”, a bunch of cheap golden chains from the Dollar Store around his neck and a sloppy green wig complete the assemble in a cringy manner.

You are equally speechless and The Joker manages to utter:

“What… THE HELL… is that????!!!!”

“Ummm… a Clown?” your sassy remark doesn’t score high marks as expected; you feel his eyes burning holes through you.

“You’re hilarious! Would you like to share your standup comedy talents on the stage??!” his index finger points at the platform meant to host a guest appearance from Bruce Wayne in the next hour.

Courtesy of “Wayne Enterprise” sponsoring the event: free food and refreshments for everyone under 18 years old.

You don’t answer and pout, upset J’s pissed attitude is already ruining your mood.

“I’m going to kill that buffoon posing as me!” he inhales full of spite and reaches for the knife hidden in his left boot.

“You can’t…” you hesitantly halt his movement. “Dozens of people, that’s just asking for trouble!”

“I’m not going to let a prick disrespect me!”

“You won’t, we’ll figure something afterwards. We can wait for him outside in the parking lot and take care of it without drawing attention! Please?” you beg hoping he’ll listen to you. “Pleeeaaaase!!!!“ you insist, perfectly aware he’s about to commit murder regardless. “I have a bunch of VIP passes to take pictures with celebrities. You promised J!” you stomp your high heels, exasperated. “You promised we’ll have a fun date!!”

“Why do I have to take pics with celebrities?! I don’t like anybody!”

The look on Y/N’s face: sheer disappointment; most of her features are covered with the mask yet he can tell.

“But I like you so the most I’ll do is take a selfie with you!” The Joker makes amendments on his own terms.

The Queen sniffles, trying to bottle up her emotions and she can’t help it: she bursts up in tears at her boyfriend’s candor.

Oh no! Not again!

Why?

The King of Gotham says nice things maybe twice a year and each time you struggle not to cry but it’s impossible: how can one resist such charm?!

Your complete meltdown makes him roll his eyes while your shaky hand takes a picture of the royal duo.

“Ugghhh…” J’s grimace turns your attention towards him.

“What is it baby?” you wipe your tears with his cape.

He would probably criticize such affront still there’s a pressing issue taking precedent.

“Princess, these tights are making my legs numb. I can’t feel my crown jewelry anymore.”

“Huh?” you forget to weep, startled.

“Cursed stretchy pants! I think I won’t be able to have sex for a month!” The Joker stretches his feet, uncomfortable.

“What??!!!” you raise your voice, panicked. “A month???!!”

Hell no!

Y/N grabs The Joker’s right hand and starts dragging him after her, yelling:

“Out of the way! Out of the way, it’s an emergency!!” whilst everyone is wondering how can someone wearing those 7-inch stilettos can march so fast.

“Where are we going, Pumpkin?!” J is inquiring and you yank at his arm, alarmed.

“To the car!”

“Why?”

Y/N doesn’t have time for explanations: she basically flies across the parking lot to get to section B5, opens the van’s back door and shoves J inside. He lands on his abs as you relentlessly pull on his boots, accomplishing to take them off in record time. Then you heave at his tights, huffing a storm at the stiff garment:

“I’ll be damn if I’ll wait a month for a ride in Funky Town!”

A mother and her 11 years old son pass by and she covers his eyes, horrified at the indecency as she guides him throughout the maze of vehicles.

“There are children here!” the woman protests. “Get a room!”

Luckily, she wasn’t heard by The Clown and his girl because… victory! The stretchy pants are off, J only in his boxers now.

“How are you feeling?” you roll him and he exhales, assessing the damage succeeding Y/N swift actions.

“Not sure, same?... Sit on my lap,” J offers and you don’t need a second invitation.

“Well?” you hold in the anxiety reaching high levels under these dire circumstances.

“Dunno, kiss me and we’ll see.”

You kiss him and he purrs.

“Well?” you interrogate again.

“Kiss me again!” he orders and you put more passion into it since your future happiness depends on it. “Hmm…” J groans. “I believe things are improving.”

“Yeah?” Y/N is about to have another breakdown although J didn’t say sweet rubbish; it’s just that kind of occasion.

“U-hum!”

“Then… what do you say we go home and celebrate your recovery?” you whisper in his ear.

“What about Comic Con?”

“Screw it!” you hop off his knees. “I’ll drive, you focus on your convalescence, ok baby?”

“Ok,” The Joker agrees and begins to stride around the van as Bruce Wayne’s limousine happens to drive by, the billionaire preparing to attend the event he sponsored.

“Stop the car!” Bruce commands at the weird view in the distance: a man wearing a replica of his Batman suit-- helmet, mask, gloves, cape… but no pants or boots, the bottom part of his attire consisting solely of underwear. “Right when you think you saw it all…” he shakes his head in denial, oblivious about who the person is.

Mister Wayne should at least have some empathy for the man enduring those tights for as long as he could; it might not be a record, but who could ever beat the real Batman at wearing stretchy pants anyway?!

Also read: MASTERLIST   

https://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

You can also follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[shnuggletea]

Happy Hump Day!

Not the Hump day for my collection but still a few lemons. Sorry if you got excited, I'm try to post a new chapter to Hump Day soonish.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surprised by the popularity of this fic. I wasn't kidding when I said I'd never planned to post it. I really felt it was too dark and too...raw? I really didn't expect it to be as popular or more than Cell Mates. Which I also didn't expect to get as much attention so clearly I have no clue on the subject. Thank you all for your support on this fic. I've continued it for you guys alone! Also, my keyboard has officially crapped out, making typing particularly difficult. IDK if I'm going to get a new one it what, currently in limbo on the subject, which doesn't speak sell for my writing career. Anyway, I hope you will all be patient as I get updates out as best I can.

Home Part Two

The kids were both tucked into their beds but I struggled to leave them. Something that was clear to Inuyasha and he didn't push me. He didn't push me to the bedroom either, only gently took my hand and led me there when I was ready.

Everything was quiet and even though I was tired, I felt as if I couldn't sleep. I was too afraid I'd open my eyes and be back at Naraku's.

"You want to take a shower?"

Inuyasha was reading my mind. Or telling me what to think because a shower sounded amazing after he said it.

"Can I…. join you?"

He was being meek and I didn't know why. But he still waited for my okay before following behind me into the bathroom. Helping me strip, we soon stood in the warm water together. Tentatively, he ran his fingers down my arms and it all came crashing down. The day I was taken away, the four days spent wondering if I would ever see my children again, feeling betrayed by Inuyasha, and then being rescued just before me and my baby were murdered. All of it.

My sobs echoed off the walls of the shower and Inuyasha's arms crashed around me. The water felt cool compared to the tears streaming down my face and the ones dripping onto my shoulder.

"I didn't know...I didn't think she'd do that...I'm so sorry Kagome…" I turned in his arms and wiped my tears on his chest. "She signed the divorce papers without struggle but I guess that's because she had this planned the whole time."

"How long until you figured it out?"

He squeezed me tighter to him, "I knew right away that you didn't run. You'd never leave the children. And you had no reason to."

"How did you find me?"

"I threatened her. Told her if she didn't come clean I'd tell every paper and gossip rag about how I had a whole family without her. It's all about status and money with her and a divorce threatened both."

Our tears had slowed and my hands pressed into his back. "I didn't know what to think. We had talked about marriage and baby names the night before. But she had that bill…."

"I get it. It looked real." His fingers twisted into my hair and his nose to the top of my head. "Those four days...I had to wait for the fucking warrant and I nearly lost my mind. If it hadn't shown up today I was going to tear that place down by myself. Anything to get you back." A single remaining sob released at his words and he began to whisper. "Tell me what you want to feel, Kagome. Anything you want, I'll give it to you."

"I want...I want…" I wasn't really sure what I wanted anymore. I mostly just felt numb. "I want to feel safe. And loved."

He curled into me, pressing his face into my neck. "Do you feel safe here in this house? Should we move?" I shook my head because this was our home. "Do you feel safe with me?"

If he had asked me any of those four days when I thought I'd been sold, I would have said no. "You're the only person in this world I feel safe with, Inuyasha."

With the careful tenderness, I knew him to have, he tilted back my head and pressed a heavy kiss to my lips. But that was all, washing and drying one another before getting into our bed. Even still naked, none of it felt sexual. Just natural.

With my head on his shoulder like a pillow, I still found I was restless. "So… you're the District Attorney?"

"Guilty," he said and I could hear his grin.

"Then… how the hell do you afford this house?!"

"Family money."

I shifted on him, his arm wrapped around me never moving as I worked my way onto my belly and looked down at him. "I suppose the old me would have been satisfied with that answer…"

His fingers grazed my jaw, careful of my bruise. "Since you're asking… my family was in… illegal but lucrative businesses for decades. Still are."

When I laughed, he cocked one of his brows at me. "I thought you were in the mob."

"I guess you could say I was. But then… I saw what my father did to people and left. Most of this house is paid for by money I earned but my inheritance helped."

Placing my elbow next to his head, I leaned on it heavily. "If you're the DA, what were you doing at that auction?"

"Apparently getting very lucky." He mused, running a hand down my side. "I was just an ADA back then and I was helping with some undercover work. They needed my name to get into the auction, what with being a Tenoe. I used my brother's name to get in. The plan was to get some info on Naraku. But then I saw you…" He sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling instead of me. "I was a fool. Buying you like that and then bringing you here. I never meant to sleep with you but god I was already in love with you. The last thing I expected was to see you there."

"Where else did you expect to see me?"

He hesitated, then chuckled. "I just didn't expect my night to end like that…"

"Like the two of us in your bed?"

"I didn't think in a million years I'd be that lucky but I no longer regret that night."

"So you expect me to believe that you loved me at first sight?" I asked, truly not believing him.

"Something like that."

"Why did your brother's name work to get you into the auction?" I asked even though I had a pretty good idea why.

"I got out of the family business. He didn't. That's why he's not around much. But someday I'm probably going to see his name on my docket. At least with our familiar ties, I won't be allowed onto the case against him."

"Doesn't seem like the two of you are close enough for that to bother you?"

He was drawing shapes on my hip and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't doing things to me. My libido had been silent for days and I thought it would never hum again. But the more Inuyasha touched me, loved me, the more it started to vibrate.

"Sess is still family. And Sess always supported my decision to go straight."

"Straight?!"

"Get a job that was legal."

"Oh." He was staring at me, reading my reactions to see how I would take his words. "What does your father think of you now? With your family extended?"

"He died long before I...found you."

I dropped to him, rubbing his shoulder with my I bruised cheek. "I thought you were ashamed of us all this time."

"Never."

Brushing my lips across his skin, I kissed his collar bone. Then his neck. Then his jaw. Soon I had my lips and legs wrapped around him. Straddling him, I was rubbing against his dick with folds. My libido was alive and raging.

I already had him inside me, rocking hard as I arched back and grabbed his knees behind me. "Kagome...we don't have to…"

"I want to."

He was groaning. Loudly. "I missed you...so fucking much…."

"I missed...you too."

Turning, I gave him my back and put us at a new angle. His groans turned to yells as I hopped on him. My body was tightened around him, close to coming when he sat up. Wrapping his arms around me he forced me to grind instead of hop.

"I want to see you…"

Watching me over my shoulder, I turned my head as much as possible to look back at him. We watched one another as we came. I whimpered his name into his face and he sucked my lips into his mouth.

I slowed but we remained attached. Our lips, his cock, we were one and unmoving save for our mouths as they melded together.

There was no one who would ever make me feel like this. Like I was safe. Loved. It didn't matter what he did, it would never change. I was hopelessly and irreversibly attached to Inuyasha.

Gently pulling free, I stared into his molten eyes. "I knew it. I knew you'd wreck me." He looked offended and I smiled. "You've wrecked me for any other man ever. I'll always only want you."

"Good."

oOo

Inuyasha must have known, probably doing it many times while I was...away. But when I woke the next morning after several more rounds of sex and Inuyasha forcing me to put on clothes, Sota was snuggled up to me. Moroha was snuggled up to Inuyasha.

At some point, while I was gone, Inuyasha had started to let the kids sleep in the bed with us.

It was probably the only way he could get them to sleep. And himself. I had been contemplating another round or two of fucking before the kids got up but that was shot to hell. But I couldn't find it in myself to be mad.

I disconnected myself from Sota and he curled into Moroha, Inuyasha wrapping an arm around him too. Taking a moment to drink in the image, Inuyasha and his children all wrapped up and asleep together, I left for the kitchen.

The cook didn't really do breakfast. A series of pastries, cereals, juices, and whatever else was in the fridge were what we had every morning. Making coffee was always my first step, watching it drip into the large carafe of the very fancy and Italian coffee machine was hypnotic. It took me a month to learn how to use it and even then I only made black coffee. It could make lattes if I knew how.

Only a few sips in when I nearly dropped my cup completely, Inuyasha appearing in the kitchen doorway looking flustered and freaked out. Once his eyes landed on me there was a clear loss of tension in his entire body. A body that he immediately wrapped around me.

"Waking up for four days without you has given me PTSD it seems."

I had to give him that. Closing my eyes last night had been hard, fearing I'd open them up back in Naraku's attic. "Does this mean you're going to be even more protective than before?"

"Do you want me to? Cause I'm seriously leaning towards it."

Pulling from his hold, I turned to face him in his arms. "I'm afraid to ask how that's possible. You were barely tolerable before."

The pained look on his face worried me. It didn't match our current conversation at all. "Kagome...there is something I need to tell you. More things that...you don't know involving my past. Your past. Our past."

"As long as it's not another wife, how bad can it be?"

I didn't like the shift of emotions in his eyes. Or how he gently led me to sit at the small table inside the kitchen's 'breakfast nook'. All my concerns were made worse when he didn't sit across from me. Instead, he crouched at my side as if to keep me from fleeing from his words.

"Kagome...the night your mother and brother died...I was there."

oOo

I didn't really get it but as always, I did as my father asked. It was the only reason I was hanging out with this strange kid who kept looking around as if he was just as uneasy about this pairing as I was.

"Okay, we went to the arcade. We're good now, right?"

Yep. I wasn't the only one completely bored with this evening. "Yeah, we're good."

"Cool. Look, I appreciate you being all friendly and all. I know my dad was happy to see us getting along, what with who your father is. But I'd rather not be forced into a friendship just cause my dad works for your dad."

I felt the same way. "Don't worry, Koga, no hard feelings there."

"I'm right, aren't I? The only reason Inuyasha Tenoe hangs out with anyone is because his daddy tells him to?"

He was irritatingly right but I refused to give him the satisfaction, picking up the pace back to his place. Koga caught on and sprinted ahead of me only to come to a halt less than a block away. I opened my mouth to ask his deal but figured it out quickly.

His house was on fire.

The two-story building was split into two homes and both were now engulfed. With Koga's father on the bottom floor, it would have been impossible for anyone to get out or in now that the bottom floor was mostly ash.

Koga gaped like a fish so I ran around him, getting as close as I could. The heat of the flames licked at my skin before I was hauled harshly back. "Hey, kid! Stay out of this!"

Glaring at my 'so-called' savior, I found a familiar face with the gravel voice. It wasn't hard to put things together. "You did this?"

Youns, a man who worked closely with my father and I had known most of my life, had damaged his throat from the smoke. Add in how he dropped me off here to take Koga away and his two buddies watching the place burn just behind, it wasn't an outlandish accusation.

"Your father ordered it."

"Why?!"

Youns glanced back at his men who were indifferent to my cries. Why would they? Secondborn son would never be in power and I was also just a 'kid'. But Youns has known me long enough to give a shit.

"Look...it's not my place to say but know that Koga is lucky he was spared from this."

Speaking of Koga, I found him on his knees near the flames. His face was flooded with tears, an odd sight knowing the way he was. Koga was far from spared.

Youns and his men were moving to the car to leave and waiting for me to come with. But I just couldn't make myself move from the horror show behind me. "What about the other apartment? People lived there! Did you kill them too?!"

"Calm down!" One of the other men shouted, looking around for ears listening. "They ain't home. Sick relative, they're out visiting!"

They all tensed just as hands grabbed me roughly. I turned back to find a raging Koga holding on to me tight. "You...you did this….you got me out...why? Why did you…"

Youns grabbed Koga off of me even as I protested. Koga deserves revenge. "Because your dad was the son of a bitch that helped kill the boss's woman!"

I couldn't breathe. Youns' words knocked all the air out of my lungs. My father told me, promised me, that he would get revenge for mom's murder. His was what he meant.

I hadn't said a word when he promised because...I wanted it. I wanted revenge for the bastard that killed my mother. And this was it. This was what it looked like. This was the real reason I was here. Father could have sent Sess, the older and more powerful son. But no, he wanted me to see this and be a part of it. He wanted me to help with his vengeance.

Youns was handling Koga and no one noticed me trying not to vomit. Or the little girl slowly approaching the fiery husk. I almost missed her, spiraling hard and fast. Until she started to run, dead set on leaping into the flames. I barely got my arms around her waist before she joined Koga's father and became ash.

"Let me go! I have to...I have to…"

I held on tighter, the girl fighting like mad. Her black curls tickled my nose while her little claws dug into my skin. "Are you crazy? You can't run into a burning building!"

"My...MY FAMILY!"

It was then I realized what she was trying to get to. "Calm down, they aren't home. They're visiting a relative."

She calmed at that and I thought I'd won, setting her back on her feet only for her knees to give out and her back in my arms. "No...no they're home...I went..Sota….Sota was sick…"

"What?" I asked even without wanting the answer.

"They were home! I went alone! My baby brother has...has a cold! I have to save them!"

She leapt, jumped, clawed, scraped for her freedom. But I wouldn't give it. If her family was inside...they were already dead.

"There's...there's nothing you can do. I'm sorry. You'll only die with them now." She was still fighting at my hold so I tried again. "Please. Don't let their deaths be in vain. They'd want you to live on."

I didn't need to know them to know that was true. And this girl was a fighter, trying to get away and to her death just to try and save her already dead family. It reminded me of my mother, every bit stubborn and courageous when it came to her family. When it came to me.

Every pull at my hold and scream of horror from the girl had my stomach lurching. I did this. I helped. Not only did I get Koga out of the way but I said nothing. I knew it was strange the whole time, getting forced to hang out with a lowly soldier's kid. And I knew my father would get vengeance. I had supported it, prayed for it, wanted karma to give me my satisfaction.

They say be careful what you wish for and now I never wanted to wish for anything ever again.

The girl finally collapsed from her grief and anguish. Turning her big blue eyes on me, I watched them swell with tears, puffy and red as they spilled out endlessly. "You're safe now."

A shuddering breath and she blinked away a few tears. "I don't know you."

"I'm Inuyasha. And I've got you now. Nothing bad will ever happen to you again." A promise I wanted to keep more than anything.

I held her still, pulling her into my arms and taking her back towards the car. Koga was in a similar state, Youns holding most of his weight from the ground.

"She lived upstairs. And her mother and brother were home when you guys set the place on fire!" I roared, somewhere deep inside of me on fire as well.

At least they looked remorseful, even if fleeting. "They should have stuck to their plans. Nothing we can do now."

One of the men offered but it gave little reprieve to me. The girl was a victim and I was the one who wronged her. A debt I wasn't sure I could ever repay. Koga eyed the girl in my arms for a second and then laughed with a dead look in his eyes. "That's Kagome. She's eight. Her brother was three I think. Father died years ago. So now, she's an orphan."

"She has family," Youns grumbled, "she was out visiting them. It's why she's alive!"

I stared at her small face, cheeks stained with tears. Her teal eyes stared up at nothing, flicking around while she thought things through. They were beautiful, the prettiest eyes I'd ever seen in my life. And unlike Koga's they were still full of life. This wouldn't break her, she was a fighter. Strong and willful, I could tell that already. It made my heart thump in a strange pattern at the thought. Like hell I was going to leave her here like this, watching her life burn to nothing.

"Then we should take her to them."

oOo

It had been hard, as a fourteen-year-old, to keep up with anyone on my own. It mostly meant me sneaking off and watching her from a distance. Koga was easy to keep track of, getting deeper into the family now that he had no one. For some reason, he was allowed to live in the house. I didn't question it, in fact, I welcomed it.

But Kagome? Her grandfather lived in a small apartment on the other side of town from my home. It took an hour just to get there by bus. But I did it, went to see her at least once a week.

She seemed to be doing fine. Morose, as anyone would be. No more than I at the loss of my mother. Whenever kids gave her a hard time, she didn't back down. She was ferocious and I respected her all the more for it.

The grandfather looked more like he needed her care. Hardly capable of helping Kagome with much of anything. That was why she was always the one going to the store. I had no doubt she cooked too.

Even with all she'd lost, I watched as she went to the market, a spring in her step, humming a little tune. It was easy to get lost in Kagome, her bright and shiny happy face only made her glow all the more.

It was why I noticed right away when that faded.

It had been maybe a year since she moved in with her grandfather when she stopped smiling. I worried it was the grandfather abusing her. But after a few nights spent hanging outside their door or on their fire escape, I saw no signs of anything more than a loving man caring for his kin as best he could. So what had changed?

He was coughing a lot today. So much I was ready to call an ambulance when one showed up for him. Kagome was still nowhere in sight and her school had been out for a while now.

Men helped the grandfather into the back of the ambulance, speaking of taking him away for more care while he cried out for Kagome. But she didn't come. Then or the next day. Or the next.

I searched. For months I searched for her as best I could. But barely sixteen, it was hard. Especially without any help from my father. I didn't want him knowing about my little...obsession. The last thing I wanted was for him to have any kind of leverage on me.

Months turned into years but I still didn't give up. It was going to get me into trouble but the longer Kagome's location was unknown to me the more the anxiety grew in my chest. I was barely sleeping at this point, using all my spare time to comb the streets, asking around about a girl with teal eyes. But no one could help me.

College was a good distraction, the ache of losing my bright-eyed beauty never fading from my heart or mind.

At least I had a future I could look forward to. Father wasn't pleased, informing him I had no intention of joining his side. It was made worse when I told him I wanted to go into law. But I didn't care, ever since he killed those people, Koga and Kagome's family, I wanted nothing to do with him. Well, that's not true. I wanted to be the one to lock him up and throw away the key. I needed a degree to do that so I pushed forward.

A criminal law degree gets you a lot of privileges. One of which was the help of the databases of people and faces. As well as facial recognition technology at your fingertips. I'd be lying if all that wasn't also a large motivator in my quest for success. Becoming a prosecutor was really just a means to an end.

I had to assume my father calling me to his house had to be due to me locking up some of his colleagues. Aggravated assault wasn't the worst thing they were guilty of but it was the best I could do. And I was happy with what I'd gotten. That is until I saw the smirk on my father's face, entering his office where I was led.

"Inuyasha. Good to see you."

"Wish I could say the same. What is this about?"

My eyes flicked to movement, Sesshomaru stood to the side. This wasn't going to be good, both 'bosses' here in one place?

"It's about you! And your future within this family."

I huffed, "I have no future with this family."

"I beg to differ. I need your help with something. A business merger."

"I'm not that kind of lawyer, father."

He laughed and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. "No. But you're a man of good standing and respectability. Your job and family title makes you quite an asset to me."

"What the hell does that mean?"

I was angry. Pissed because once again my father wanted to use me it seemed. And I was right but I'd never expected something like this.

"You're going to marry Kikyo Takahashi. A fortuitous and great match if I do say myself."

Seething, I struggled to speak. So I did so through gritted teeth. "The hell I am. Who the fuck is she and why the fuck would I marry her?"

"For your inheritance?" When that didn't phase me, my father tried again. "Alright. Then...for Kagome."

"What?!" Now I could barely breathe.

"I know about your hobby and I know you've been looking for her. She's in a girls' home on the south side of town. Lovely little place. She is safe and happy and...blooming. And if you want her to stay that way, you'll do as I say!"

I'd been a fool, thinking for even a second that my secret was safe. Of course, father knew. And he had far more resources than I had all these years. He probably knew where Kagome was the entire time I wasted searching. None of it mattered now, because he had her and therefore he had me. I had no choice at all.

"Fine. But you don't touch Kagome ever."

oOo

The place was disgustingly garish. I'd never held any interest in places like these but it wasn't my decision. All I was there for was to sign the checks.

"What do you think?"

Taking my eyes away from the cluster that was the place in general, Koga waited expectantly for my response. "Does my opinion matter?"

"No. It doesn't."

"Then do as you please."

Koga huffed and crossed his arms in defiance. "I hate this. But I got no choice do I?"

"No. Not if you want this place you don't," I answered, shaking my head, "you'll never be able to afford it on your own…"

"The last thing I ever wanted was your help. Or to be under your thumb ever, Asshole. So know I'm doing this cause I ain't got a choice."

"I know," he'd said it several times already, "but I owe you don't I?"

"Don't think this makes everything square. We'll never be even until I can take someone you love away from you like you did me!"

"You really want to do that? Sink that low?"

Koga grimaced as he thought it through. "Guess it would depend on who you love. If you ever love anyone but yourself."

I did love someone but like hell, I would ever tell him that. Not with him threatening them five seconds ago. It was a good thing Kagome was far away in her own little world from me. She would only ever be in danger with me. Just like my mother.

"Even your own wife left you. Do you give a shit about anything?"

Koga was still going on, trying to have some kind of fucked up conversation with the guy responsible for his father's death. The man now paying for him to open his own strip club so he was out of my family's damn business. A clean start from the people that messed up his life.

"I care about justice. Which is why you're here and why you're going to help me if I ever need it."

oOo

"I don't like it, Boss."

I didn't like how Koga was calling me Boss. Reminded me of my father but that was probably the point. Ever since the old man passed, Koga had been far more amiable towards me. But now he was getting antsy.

"He's just going to come in for a drink or two like usual. All you have to do is give me a heads up if he moves!"

"I still don't like it. He talked some of my girls into quitting last month!" Koga griped but that was important information.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"They gave notice and left. No big deal. Other than making me short staffed!"

I'd have to check into it later. For now, I had other places to be. "I'll look into it. Just watch him tonight!"

Few had questioned my ties to the Tenoe family but once I became ADA on my own merit, any and all rumors stopped. And now my name would help once again, meeting the only cop I'd ever trusted enough to clue him in on my idea as he waited a block away for me.

"Inuyasha." He smirked.

I glared back at him. "It's Sesshomaru tonight. Don't fuck this up, Miroku, or I'll have you demoted back to beat cop."

He held up his hands and looked genuinely afraid. "You got it. Boss."

I cringed again. The second time that night getting called that and neither time could I say a thing about it. Koga was being a dick using it and Miroku was just doing his job and playing the part. As was I, pulling my hair back off my neck and tying it up. Anyone who had met my brother would probably know I wasn't him so I had to hope none of his friends were here tonight.

A simple auction and yet I had to hold my vomit and disdain at bay each time a person was pulled or dragged up on the stage.

I recognized Naraku's men in an instant. They were easy to spot, knowing them all by name at this point in my investigation. They were buying humans, drugs, guns, plenty of things I could use against them in court. The only problem was I needed proof that they were buying these things for Naraku and not themselves.

The auction was almost over and it was now or never. All we had was mine and Miroku's account of the evening. No real proof at all. We would need to turn a few people over, use their illegal purchases to our advantage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a rare treat today. A martyr. A virginal martyr has offered herself up in order to save her beloved home. Is there someone here kind enough to save her?"

I wasn't the only one confused. There wasn't anything like that listed on the docket. That alone had everyone's interest, including my own. "No. No, no, fuck no what is she doing here?"

It had been years but I would never forget those eyes. They searched over the crowd even with the light blinding her. But they held the same fire and color that haunted me at night, every night.

"Let's start the bids at 5k!"

"Shit!"

Miroku eyed me carefully while I watched the bids being made all around me. They were going to sell her to the highest bidder? What the fuck was Kagome doing here selling herself as a sex slave?! She was supposed to be safe!

The announcer said she was saving her home. Not the girls home she'd been in for years now? That wasn't possible, it was under my family's protection...until my father died.

"Shit!"

"What is it, Boss?" Miroku asked, glaring back at a few who looked my way.

I trusted Miroku but not with this. "The auction is almost over. We need to turn someone before they disappear."

That had Miroku moving deeper into the crowd while I focused back on the auction of the one woman I'd ever thought about past a hindrance. The only woman I'd ever cared about was up on stage while people called out amounts to buy her and her virginity?

Something took over me and the next thing I knew I was transferring money over to some guy named Hero in the back of the club.

I had bought Kagome.

I was far from done here so all I could do was send a car to take her home. And call Koga to meet her. He was the only person who knew Kagome at all and I doubted he would recognize or remember her. Since he worked for me and I needed to get a report on Naraku from him anyway, it would be two birds.

Now I was pacing. The auction hadn't worked out at all as I hoped. I wanted info on Naraku, not buy a person like meat. But it was Kagome and if I hadn't been there she would be in someone else's hold right now. That thought alone was enough to make me seethe so I quickly changed my thoughts to ones more pressing. Like how any second now Kagome was going to walk back into my life.

What would she think of me? A man that helped murder her family bought her at a black market and brought her to the ridiculous house his ex-wife made him buy?

Probably shouldn't tell her about Kikyo. That was too much for one night.

Any other thoughts on the subject were whisked away, the door to my room opening so I shot to one of my chairs to hide. I was such a fucking loser but I couldn't help it. This was Kagome we were talking about! She was the only woman I'd ever thought about. Even my sham of a marriage, the only times sex had been successful, I imagined I was with her instead of Kikyo.

I shouldn't tell her that either. It was even more fucked up.

I'd never been able to explain how her eyes had enraptured me. How her silly sweet ways had possessed me. How I had an animalistic urge to protect her even without either of us knowing one another well at all. And that was all I wanted, to protect her.

"Strip."

My blood was boiling. What the fuck was Koga thinking? Did he recognize her? Was he fucking with me?

"I said, strip! I want to see the product!"

"That's enough, Koga." I roared.

"I just wanted to make sure she wasn't armed, Boss."

I couldn't look. This night was shit and Koga was only making it worse. I was ready to pop and kill him. "Get out." The silence left me worried that Kagome had left too but I still couldn't make myself look. "Come here."

It felt like an eternity and a heartbeat all at once, the time it took for Kagome to stand before me. The fire lit her from behind, showing me the full figure she now had as a woman. I'd been so frantic at the auction, all I'd really taken in was her eyes. Now before me in all her glory, I was blown away by the woman she'd become.

She was gorgeous.

My dreams were no comparison as all I really had to go on was black curls, blue pools for eyes, and an energy that made my heart thump hard in my chest. All of that was there and more as my heart pumped blood hard to other parts of me. It was suddenly far too warm in this room. And Kagome was shivering.

A flush covered her lovely cheeks when I looked up, visible even in the shadow of the light. And as I found her eyes, I saw the darkening in them but not what I expected to see.

There was no recognition in her eyes at the sight of me.

Kagome didn't remember me. But that was fine. Better even. I could work up the nerve to tell her who I was at some point. Until then, I'd just play the part. Because as long as she was safe I would be happy. She could finally be in my sights always so I never had to worry about her again. That would be enough.

Or I had to hope it would be, my body threatening to sweat the longer she looked at me with those doe eyes of hers. Releasing a puff of air didn't help much either with getting into character. "What the hell am I supposed to do with someone like you now?"

"I can work."

She was still scared. I could hardly blame her. All that she had been through this night alone? It only made me want to protect her more. But I couldn't have her working in the office with me. It would bring up questions. And the answers would get her hurt.

"The only place I can put you is the club and can't have a virgin working there." A virgin that looked like her would have the men pissing themselves to touch and taint her. That had me stressed and agitated too but I could make Koga keep a close watch on her at the club. "You can't even dance, can you? What can you do?"

I really, truly hoped she didn't know how to dance. I seriously doubted that she could but I wanted to make sure before I put her to work with Koga. Last thing I wanted was her up on any stage ever again.

Out of nowhere, she dropped to her knees before me. It was far too easy for her to reach for my belt too. Before she could do more and make it hard for me to stop her, I grabbed her hands and stopped her myself. "You're a virgin aren't you? Don't drop to your knees so fucking easily!"

Tossing her hands out of my hold kept me from touching her any more than that. Because I was desperate to pull her up into my lap.

I was struggling. I didn't give a shit if she was really a virgin or not but there was something taking over my mind and making me say things I really shouldn't. "Take off your clothes." She had hesitated when Koga told her to strip but when I said it, she moved too quickly. "Slowly!"

This was bad. A terrible, terrible idea. But since she stood before me, the fire at her back, and I saw her grown-up body all I wanted was to see all of it.

And now I did, Kagome stood naked before me and my body was crowing to touch, taste, and feel her. This was a really bad idea especially since I was supposed to be playing a part here. "What's your name?"

"Kagome."

"Kagome?" I played dumb.

"Kagome Higurashi."

I knew that. I'd always known it. And I dreamed about this moment many times over. Which was why I rationalized, I had her sit in my lap and put my fingers inside her.

I didn't know a damn thing about hymens. Or what a virgin did or didn't feel like. But I was pretty sure they felt like this, her tight around just one of my fingers. I watched her eyes darken again before adding another. I had lost my mind, holding Kagome on my lap, the lap of a stranger, and fingering her.

Her head went back and my mouth was on her neck without question. Tasting her skin, it was like finally getting a drink of water after being stranded in the desert. Sweet and satisfying.

And yet I couldn't stop.

Taking us both to my bed, my mind screamed at me to stop. But it was the back of my mind, buried deep now under need and want. I needed Kagome because I had wanted her for so long. I wanted her in my life, wanted her safe and happy. And a really fucked up part of my mind was whispering "you can make her happy".

Using my shirt, I tied her wrists down. Because if she touched me I didn't know what would happen. I was already out of my mind looking at her naked body on my bed. I somehow managed to keep up the lie, making up some bullshit about her scratching me. With it out there, God did I want her to scratch me. Which would be hard to explain if she did it somewhere work would see.

I didn't want anyone knowing about her. Because Naraku had eyes and ears everywhere in this town. So not even work would know about her, not until I was sure it would be safe. How many people saw me buy her today? And how many of them would share that with Naraku?

No one could know not even Kagome.

Licking her nipples distracted me effectively. Because I was getting her into so much danger being with me. There was no hope because I couldn't stop. Not when I was a teen, obsessed with my regrets and not now, a man desperate to connect himself to the only woman I'd ever felt anything for.

It was crazy because I loved Kagome and she didn't even know my name.

"Inuyasha." She looked confused, still not remembering me and I ignored the hurt in my chest, making up another lie. "That's my name. So you can yell it when you come."

She was angry but too turned on to really care. I could see it in her eyes and feel it in her body. She wanted me too. And that only fueled me more, making me cocky.

She squeezed me tight when I pushed inside. Halfway in and I was so close to coming, I had to stop. I made sure to say something dickish. That got the flames in her eyes again and also calmed mine. Enough to thrust the rest of the way inside her.

And shit, it felt good. I wasn't new to sex. I wasn't an expert by any means. Maybe that's why, my lack of good sexual experience, that Kagome felt fucking amazing. My hips agreed, moving on their own. But I had to stop them before I came too soon.

Focusing on us made my whole body purr. I was inside of Kagome, we were one, our bodies were together in the most intimate way possible. Damn, even thinking about it was going to make me come.

So I pressed on her womb, right above where I was inside her. "Kagome." Say something dickish, say something dickish, say something dickish, "I'm right here, right now.."

I didn't mean it was an insult but she knees me anyway, causing me to chuckle. Which made me tremble inside her and I couldn't stop myself from thrusting again and again and again.

"Say my name, Kagome… when you come… I want you to… fucking scream it."

I wanted her to so bad. Wanted to pretend she remembered me, thought of me as I had her. As fucked up as that was, I wanted to be her world.

"Inu...yash...ah...AH!"

She tightened around me, coming, and I came right with her, groaning as my entire body tensed with pleasure it had never known before. Not on this level. That would be the only problem with Kagome being a virgin. She would never know if I was the best she'd ever had because like hell I was letting her go again.

I wanted her. Wanted her more. But all I had done was fuck everything up. She didn't remember me at all, I was just the guy that bought her freedom and here I was, fucking her.

What the hell was wrong with me?

It was a strange mix of satisfaction and regret that billowed inside me now. And neither kept me from wanting to fuck her again already.

I had to get her out of my bed. Needed her not to be naked and looking so damn sexually satisfied.

More than anything I needed to stop thinking about how I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her because that was not up for discussion right now.

She was about to pass out so I carried her. If she stayed in my bed all night I didn't know what I would do or say to her. But none of it would be fair, not with what she'd been through tonight.

I took her to a room close to mine that had only recently been vacated by one of my former maids. It was luck actually, the maid had left to get married and left a boatload of her clothes behind. Something about shipping them to her later but now I would just pay her for them since it looked like Kagome was going to be wearing some of it. She came with nothing more than the clothes on her back. Clothes that were currently on my floor and she was ever so kind as to remind me of that. The venom in her tone was justified, I had nothing to stand on against her or it. I deserved her anger.

Because like it or not she was now in my life again and this time I was sure I couldn't let go.

oOo

Inuyasha had switched from crouching to kneeling on one knee by the time he finished his story. My mind was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

"I'm...I'm not sure what to say…" he shifted, uneasy, "I don't remember you at all from that night. I don't remember any of it, other than seeing my home on fire and someone talking to me on the way to my grandfather's…" it hit me like a ton of bricks, "that was you?"

He nodded and things made sense. Why his voice had such an effect on me from when we first met? Or rather the second time, even though I'd forgotten h I'd always thought I'd made up the person who spoke to me that night because they could only have been a cop or an angel in my mind. It had been so soft and yet firm, reassuring even though I couldn't remember a single word that was said to me.

"You were in shock the whole way to your grandfather's. So I just promised your safety and revenge." Inuyasha whispered, his tone matching my memory to a T.

"Revenge? How am I supposed to get that?"

Inuyasha has his arms around me, one on the table before me and the other on the back of my chair as if to cage me. "Right now. I told you what happened and now you can get your revenge. I love you, Kagome. Always have. So if you were to walk out the door it would break me like nothing ever has or will again."

"What?!"

"You're a free woman. You can do as you please. You don't have to be with me, you don't have to be with anyone. It's your choice and as much as I hope you'll choose me, I can't expect that. And I won't force you either."

He was asking me to choose? Nothing was making any sense. I'd just gotten home and now he was asking me if I wanted to leave it? But he had lied to me and not just about his relationship status. He had lied about a lot of things including his reasons for bringing me here in the first place.

"Is all of this penance? Did you bring me here to make up for what you did to my family?"

He was silent, staring right into my eyes as if to search for my answer while giving me his. "Sort of. I didn't want you on that stage. It wasn't where you belonged."

"Where do I belong then?"

He shook his head, "I can't answer that."

I couldn't think of a time in my life in which I had so much freedom. Never had I ever had the power of choice before. And I had no clue what to do with it. "I need...some time."

Inuyasha didn't stop me as I rose and went around him, leaving him behind on his knees in the kitchen.

One chapter left!

[rnufharose]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears - Chapter 8

Words: 2.9k

Trigger Warnings: There will be murder, violence, and post traumatic stress in this chapter. Please read at your discretion.

︻デ═一 ♥

The man stumbled backward, holding his bruised jaw before meeting the gaze of his attacker. He saw his black hair, those intense eyes, and his suit was as dark as night. He knew that man anywhere, a sneer curling on his lips before he broke into laughter, "You're him, aren't you?! Junmyeon's lapdog! I didn't think I'd find you here." Jong-hoon pulled his glock, pointing it toward Sehun, his finger on the trigger. "You sure know how to make a man angry...”

"You're way outside you bounds, Jong-hoon," the hitman said dryly, that cold expression not leaving his eyes. "If I were you, I'd leave before this situation gets worse. Wouldn't want other groups finding unwelcome guests stumbling about."

Jungkook pushed the door open. After taking a rest for a moment, he too had heard Haneul screaming. In a fit of panic, he ran into the alleyway to check on her, coming across the scene in front of him.

Choi Jonghoon of the FT Syndicate stood before them

Jungkook knew him from many news articles that showcased his violent crimes. He also saw the other man, who was most likely from another crime syndicate, but he wasn't too sure. He had never seen him before.

Following behind him was Taehyung and Bella, who noticed the way he had left abruptly. The silver-haired girl moved carefully to the side, reaching out her hand, "Neullie! Come quickly!"

The brunette snapped out of her frightened state, getting to her feet and running away from the two males, grabbing Bella's hand, and she pulled Haneul close to her.

"Take her inside," Sehun instructed in a hard tone, his eyes still on Jonghoon.

"Okay," Jungkook answered, and Taehyung ushered them back into the storage room, closing the door, leaving the two men to themselves.

"Oh Sehun... EXO's merciless hitman," the older male chuckled darkly as he raised his gun. "The boss is going to be pretty pissed when figures out you've got your sights on her. You do know she's a threat, right? She isn't as innocent as you think she is."

The raven-haired male took out his own handgun, ignoring his words. If one could hold the gun out toward the light, one would notice the small tally marks that were carved onto the barrel. "One last warning. Leave, keep your mouth shut, and you might live to see another day. In all honesty, a rat like you isn't even worth my time."

"But you're worth my time," Jonghoon hissed. "When I take you out, EXO will be crippled, Junmyeon won't have a hold of his territory, and that girl can join her pitiful grandmother!" He pulled the trigger, shooting at the hitman, who quickly ducked for cover behind the large metal trash bin.

He could hear the bullets hitting against it, leaving dents as the shots echoed through the alleyway. No doubt the civilians would be in a panic and Sehun hoped the employees in The Magic Shop would find a way to keep their customers from leaving.

Back inside, Haneul was seated in the couch, endeavoring to steady her heartbeat, the onset of a panic attack taking over her body. The events that transpired could have gone another way, but her friends had come to help her. And that man... she couldn't help but feel scared again. He looked like someone who wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone. "Oh my God," she choked. "I was almost—"

"You weren't," Bella held her hand tightly, rubbing her back. "Nothing will happen to you."

"Aish," Taehyung ran his hands through the blue strands of his hair. "If the customers hear what's going on outside, they won't feel safe..."

"I'll keep them entertained," Jungkook proceeded toward the door. "Call the cops and tell them what's going on. I'm giving them a round of drinks on the house."

"Good idea," Bella looked away from the other girl, pulling out her phone to make a call.

The gunshots kept coming until Jonghoon had run out of ammo. He made to quickly reload his gun, but Sehun took this opportunity to shoot him in the shoulder and legs, crippling him and drawing out a painful grunt. He stood from his place behind the garbage disposal, his gun still poised and his eyes narrow. "And here I thought you were going to put up a fight..." his shots were clear and concise, as expected of a merciless killer.

The other man began to whimper, crawling back while nursing his wounds, blood staining his suit.

"You wasted bullets, firing at a target you couldn't even see. Being trigger happy doesn't get the job done," Sehun continued. "It's pathetic, really. You're in such a well-established syndicate, and yet, you can't even take out one person." He towered over the cowering man now, one of his hands tucked into his pocket. "I'm at a crossroads with myself... do I shoot and put you out of your misery? Or do I take you in and see what I can get out of you? You seem to know something I'm invested in."

"I-If you kill me," Jonghoon spat. "The boss will kill you," he didn't stop cowering as Sehun's tall figure overshadowed him. "That girl is going to get what's coming to her! Her blood—her family—is tainted! Once she's killed, she won't pose a threat to the boss!"

"And what threat does that girl and her family pose?" The hitman questioned, leaning forward. "Her grandmother wasn't just as innocent as she is, and now you're claiming she's a threat? I fail to see the logic here." At this point, if Jong-hoon kept talking, he was going to end up a corpse. He was practically giving away everything he knew.

"She's the heiress to the Cho Clan!" He spoke strongly, backing up against the building. "Her father... was Seoul's most elite mob boss. He owned almost every territory before my boss took him out! We were so sure we had killed every last one of them, but instead, the man shipped his daughter off to the boondocks to live with his wife's mother! That old lady had been raising our biggest threat! One day, she'll kill your clan too!"

"And what makes you think this girl has any recollection or indication as to what her family once did?" Sehun continued to inquire. "From my view, she doesn't have a single clue. You're just targeting her for something she isn't aware of. It's scum like you that I hate the most or yours or any other group will lay a finger on her." He places his finger on the trigger. "If they do, they won't make it out alive... I'll make sure of it."

The final gunshot sounded, and the male's body went limp against the building, no longer breathing. Sehun lowered his gun slowly, tucking it away as the sound of sirens came from the distance. He faced the back door of The Magic Shop, his expression softening before he ran out of the alleyway. We'll meet again, he thought with slight melancholy. She had seen his face and he saw the fear her eyes possessed. He didn't meant to scare her, but he knew she would eventually come to know of his existence. He would have to relay the events of today to Suho later.

︻デ═一 ♥

Word of Jonghoon's murder reached the ears of the civilians. The alleyway beside The Magic Shop has become a crime scene. After the patrons left and they closed up, the police had interrogated the staff but Taehyung had instructed everyone to stay quiet about the unknown hitman that had come to take out Jonghoon. It could have been out of gratitude, or maybe it was out of fear of getting involved with the mafia. One thing was certain: none of them wanted to become targets for any crime syndicates.

Haneul had changed out of her dress and into a black shirt and jeans, laying on the couch and pushing away any thoughts of what happened hours ago. She felt dirty, like his hands wouldn't leave her body. Even taking a shower and scrubbing her skin until it almost bled wasn't enough to make her feel clean again.

"Hey," Bella knocked on the door and stepped inside, and the brunette sat up, noticing the chipped mug of tea in her hand. "I made this for you. It's chamomile. It'll soothe you."

"Thank you," Haneul accepted the mug, the warmth of the tea spreading through her hands and across her nerves, the scent already soothing her.

"Sorry about the mug," her friend chuckled sheepishly. "The rim is slightly chipped."

"It's alright," she bright the mug to her lips. "I like it this way..." After taking a sip, she placed the beverage down, smiling sadly. "Halmeoni always had tea like this... I guess the two of us are a bit peculiar..." She released a long exhaled, closing her eyes. "I don't think I'll ever catch a break..."

"Things will turn out okay in the end. You'll see," Bella assured her. "You just have to hang in there. No one expects you to get back on your feet right away. I know you want to do it quickly but you've been through a lot. It's okay to be vulnerable and ask for help."

"I know, but this isn't like me," Haneul replied. "I've lost everything and I know it's hard, but I just want to be strong. I want to handle everything on my own. If I can't do that after everything that's happened, then what kind of a granddaughter am I?"

"Neullie," her friend began, her tone firm. "You are one hell of a good granddaughter, but if Halmeoni was here, she would tell you that it's fine to break. She knows you're trying your hardest not to let her death define you and she knows it was a traumatic experience on your part, but that doesn't mean you're not allowed to grieve. That doesn't mean you're not allowed to cry after what happened today. Don't bottle it up. Let everything out. Cry if you want to. It'll ease the pain you're feeling."

"Mianhe, Bella," Haneul apologized with a dejected chuckle. "But... I've cried enough. I'm on my own now. I can't afford to cry anymore."

The silver-haired girl opened her mouth to speak again, but the rest of the boys came into the storage room, gracing then with their presence.

"Gwenchana?" Jimin asked, his eyes wide with concern as he sat beside Haneul, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a tight hug.

"I'm fine now," she patted his arm. "A little shaken up, but I'll live."

"This is scary," Beomgyu frowned. "There was a mob fight right next to us and we could have been caught in the crossfire."

"Luckily, that didn't happen and everyone was safe," Jungkook reminded him.

"If this happens again, The Magic Shop will no longer be safe," Yoongi drowned, his eyes downcast. "What do we do?"

"We stay open," Namjoon answered. "We can't give up yet. The mafia isn't going to make our restaurant a base for their crimes."

"Namjoon hyung is right," Soobin added. "We'll take extra precautions. We can't bribe the customers with free drinks every time since we need the money, but we can put on performances ten times as better."

"I know we kept quiet when the police came but who were those two guys?" Jin wondered.

"Their names were Choi Jonghoon and Oh Sehun," Taehyung said, his hands tucked into his slacks. "Everyone knows who Jonghoon is, right?"

"One of the FT Clan's hitmen," Hoseok spike solemnly. "But what would he be doing here? It doesn't make any sense..."

"The mafia are dirty people," Yeonjun pointed out. "They're involved in the use of drugs, dealing with contraband, sex trafficking—the list goes on."

"And the other man? Oh Sehun?" Taehyun rubbed the back of his neck, looking between his friends.

"I don't know much about him aside form rumors," Huening Kai said. "People say he's very scary... he's ruthless and kills people without a second thought..."

"Yeah, he's in EXO. That's why," Taehyung said to the two of them, his face indicating seriousness. "He's a hitman under one of the most powerful clans in Seoul. Whatever you all do, if you see him again, run."

Bella tensed slightly afternoon hearing that name. It did well to stroke fear into her heart. She's heard a number of stories about EXO, and the realization that one of its members was right in their alleyway made her feel slightly unsafe. What was worse was that this was the same man she served a drink to, one who she thought was a good person who was genuinely interested in her friend. If she had known he harbored ill will toward Haneul, she wouldn't have talked to him. The possibility of him taking her and keeping her all to himself made her anxious.

"I'll stay far away," Haneul promised. Like Bella, the very name made her blood run cold. Even the man's face was frightening. She didn't think she could look him in the eyes God forbid she come across him again. "If... If I see him again... I'll run... I'll hide... I'll do whatever it takes to escape."

︻デ═一 ♥

On his way to meet with Suho, Sehun remained unfazed about the night's events. Haneul's expression of fear still plagued him immensely, even though he had managed to acquire information concerning her and regarding her grandmother's murder. It seemed now, the only way to protect her was having her at his side since she had seen his face.

The guard allowed him entry, opening the door to the penthouse, and Suho looked up from his tablet, placing it onto the coffee table and turning toward the younger male. "Sehun-ah... I heard what happened. Are you alright?"

"I am, hyung," he bowed respectfully. "I acquired information on Haneul as well. I'm sure you'll find it useful as I have."

"What is it?" He questioned.

"Jonghoon may be another body added to the count, but he was useful in his short time of living," the hitman explained. "He told me everything. Haneul is the last known member of the Cho syndicate. The FT syndicate feels threatened by her and have attempted to kill her even though she has no idea about her family's background."

"I see," EXO's leader held his chin, furrowing his brows. "You said the Cho Clan, yes? Well, as it turns out, my father was in an alliance with the Don of that syndicate?"

"Abeoji was one of his allies?" Sehun tilted his head. "How do you know that?"

"You'd be surprised about what you learn once you become the Don of your own clan," Suho chuckled, crossing the living room and pouring a glass of whiskey. He handed one glass for he raven-haired male before bringing his own drink to his lips. "The Cho Clan was the biggest syndicate in Seoul, ruling over almost the whole city. It's boss married a civilian woman and eventually, they had a daughter, who we now know is Haneul. I always thought she had been killed as well once the mob war between them and the FT Clan began. Abeoji always said there were no survivors, but now we know that she was given to her Halmeoni before she could get involved and she lived a life away from the violence, not knowing her origins. The only thing we can do now is protect her. Her father would have wanted that since he didn't want her to be a part of the underworld in the first place."

"Yeah... about protecting her," Sehun frowned, looking up from his drink. "She saw my face... I'm not sure how much longer I can go watching her from the shadows. By now, she's become more aware of her surroundings."

"So... she's afraid then," the older male hummed, placing his glass down. "I'm not sure what else you can do to alleviate her anxiety other than having her by your side. Give it time if she's scared. Now that she knows you're here, she'll eventually learn about your kind side. And if all else fails, show her Vivi. That dog will certainly assuage her worries."

"I'll keep that in mind," Sehun laughed a bit, his smile fading afterward. "Guess that means she has to live with me now..." the last thing he wanted was for her to be isolated from the world, to feel like a prisoner and be so small in his presence, but he wouldn't allow that. He would make sure she was comfortable and that she saw past his merciless side. Sehun couldn't imagine hurting her. After seeing her at the funeral, closed off from other people, and then tonight, signing out toward the customers at The Magic Shop, that girl had to be protected. She was a source of light in the darkness of his world and he would preserve the light that shone from her. He will treat her with care and patience and maybe, she won't feel afraid.

[stonersloane]

This could be a fic someday but mostly here’s some Sloane Hurley backstory outline

Sloane’s mother is a wood elf Druid, her father is an affluent Goldcliff politician. Sloane grew up against the rigid structure of society expectations. Her father was demanding and strict, yet often absent, leaving her with her mother, who had broken in the city.

One day, when Sloane is around 12, her mother leaves without saying a word. The only belonging she takes with her is her gnarled wooden ring, the one the matches Sloane’s. The last sloane sees of her mother for a long time is the flash of moonlight against Raven feathers.

This does not end well. Sloane’s father is hurt, angry, and now alone with a teenage child and a reputation to maintain. He tells people his wife had left for a religious pilgrimage, a common practice in her foreign, forest culture, and would be returning in a few months at the most.

Of course, she does not come back. When Sloane is 15, her father has her mother declared dead.

<

p>Almost a year later, Sloane attends a party hosted by an acquaintance of her fathers. It is there she meet Dktiri, a charming and tempting dark elf man. They talk, dance, and grow closer. In an attempt to seduce her, Dktiri convinces her to slip away with him and takes her to his secret garage. It works, the rebellion and danger draws her in instantly. After a couple more dates, Sloane asks if she can try racing. Dktiri concedes to her request, mostly to placate her. Sloane is really Fucking good at racing. Like, scary good. Like, this probably isn’t her first time trying this. Dktiri sees an opportunity, and invites Sloane to race with him and his team (The Ranchos). She agrees of course. With Sloane as their battlewagon ace, the ranchos quickly grow out of their previously forgettable ranks and become a notorious racing gang. Of course, they don’t stop their other criminal gang activities. Sloane doesn’t like this, and tries to convince Dktiri to stop and just focus on racing. He dismisses her, again and again. She uuuuhhh does not take that well and when she confronts him, he blackmails her.

“Fine,” Sloane says, “Ok, fine. I have another idea then.”

"Yeah? What’s that?”

"Actually- FUCK THIS” Sloane casts thunder wave and says “I just sort of realized something. You’re kind of a dick to me, actually. And you use me, and lie to me, and are just generally a bad dude. Also I’m a better racer than you. I don’t need you anymore.”

"What, so you’re just going to run back to your dad?”

"No. But I’m leaving you.”

Get dunked on she leaves. But she isn’t done racing. And I’m an act of rebellion against her father and the society corruption and a big fuck you to Dkiri, she adopts the identity of The Raven, thief. She steals exclusively from those she knows are involved with the mob, gangs, etc. She is never caught, because she never leaves any clues and is thorough in her planning.

Except she TOTALLY leaves clues but they’re the wrong ones, and they always trace back to the bad guy she was targeting. Each of Sloane’s crimes end in an arrest, but never her own.

No one notices EXCEPT Sgt. Hurley, who begins to spot a pattern. When she tries to point it out, Captain Bane dismisses her for lack of evidence. But Hurley gets a good good nat 20 on that investigation check and knows she’s right. So what does she do? UH GO AGAINST THE EXPRESS ORDERS OF HER CAPTAIN, OBVIOUSLY. She starts tracking the mysterious thief, and, after a lot of rope pinned to maps of the city and like 5 gallons of coffee, she thinks she knows where the may be thief is going to hit next. So for two weeks solid Hurley stakes out this jewelry store. And on the 14th day, she’s proven right. There’s a break in, and Hurley is on the scene immediately. She bursts through the window, “Freeze, bitch, it’s the cops!”

The Raven freezes and turns. She’s surprised she got caught, she’d been so careful. “I don’t think,” she says, trying to cover the sudden anxiety with suave cool crime girl, “that’s what the phrase is. Plus, there’s only one of you.”

“Yeah well that’s all there needs to be because I’m taking you down. I know you’re the one who robbed the High Pillar bank, and the Orcshill Manor, AND the Dragonsbane Club.”

“Really? I don’t recall.” “Cut the crap! I know you left those clues on purpose to frame those men, I know it!” The Raven hesitates, and says “Is it framing if you still found them guilty.” “Well,” Hurley huffs, “Well, no, technically because uh, because they did do some pretty bad crimes. But!!! You also did crimes. Like a lot! In like a row! You’re doing a crime right now.” “Am I?” “You are literally standing in a jewelry store, robbing it right now. You’re criming as we speak” “Haven’t taken a thing…Sergeant?” “Hurley. I’m Sergeant Hurley with the Goldcliff Militia, and you’re under arrest- uh-” “The Raven.” “The what? No that’s not your name. What’s your like real name.” The Raven laughs, and Hurley blushes but she doesn’t want to think about why. “Why would I tell you my real name? I’m not an idiot, Sargent, I’m not going to turn myself in, no matter how fun it’d be to try on your handcuffs. Wink.” “W-what?” Hurley falters, flushing, “What did you- wait did you just SAY the word wink like out loud? You did.” “Uh. Well, no, I did, because i was worried you wouldn’t see me winking, because of the mask- no whatever never mind. I’ve got to be going Sargent, I think your back up is here.” As Hurley turned to follow her gesture, she could hear the sound of an approaching militia wagons. But how- oh fuck the window. She had just gone and crashed through the window oh SHIT. Ok, that’s on her, fair enough, but at least the Raven- Oh fuck the Raven! Hurley turns just as the Raven waves her hand and vanishes, the air filling with the familiar metal tang of wild magic. And leaving Hurley, alone, in the middle of a jewelry store, that she had, technically, just broken into and with no evidence that any one else had been here. Oh fuck, she’s in trouble. She is in so much trouble.

[rockrevoltmagazine]

INTERVIEW: George Lynch

KXM, the band featuring drummer Ray Luzier (KoRn), guitarist George Lynch (Lynch Mob, Dokken), and vocalist/bassist dUg Pinnick (King’s X) just released their sophomore effort Scatterbrain on March 17th to rave reviews.  The follow up to their 2014 self-titled release, which landed at #31 on the Billboard Top 200, features 13 tracks behind the engineering of Chris “The Wizard” Collier (Flotsam & Jetsam/Prong/Last In Line).  Drawing inspiration from prog, punk, metal, and ska, Scatterbrain is sure to take the listener on a musical journey.  We had the opportunity to talk with guitarist George Lynch about their journey to KXM’s second record, how this band of three diverse rockers came to be, and yes we did ask the infamous question, what’s next for Dokken?

You just released your sophomore record, Scatterbrain; can you take us through the writing process and how it might differ from some of the other projects you’re involved in?

The philosophy behind KXM, anyone that follows the band pretty much knows it, we do not pre-write anything. We are not a band that sits around, lives together, rehearses and goes on the road.  We just kind of meet up every couple of years in a recording studio and see what happens.  We improvise, and that improvisational effort turns into a record after ten to twelve days.

I’m sure it must be a bit different from some of your other projects. If so, do you like it better this way?

Well it’s not entirely different from my other projects. Lynch Mob did something similar to that when we did the Sound Mountain Sessions.  A lot of the Shadowtrain record was written that way as well.  Quite honestly, my writing style is pretty much a jam session.  The only difference with some of the recent records, when I say recent I mean recent decades, that differentiate those records from KXM would be that after the initial idea, we’ll spend more time arranging.  But generally it’s kind of how I write.  Basically the seat of my pants, spur of the moment, improvisational writing.

With Scatterbrain, are there one or two songs that you would say have the George Lynch stamp on it?

Ah, I think I’m all over everything. I think the whole point with a KXM record is that it’s not Lynch Mob;  it’s not Dokken or anything else.  It is its own unique thing.  It’s a product of the chemistry between the three of us who are very equal in our contribution to the end result.  Whereas most of my projects I’m taking on a bulk of the work on myself because of the fact that I have a guitar in my hands.  The guitar player is writing the riffs.  But in the case of KXM, that’s not the dynamic.  The dynamic is that I’m a third of the creative force.  Ray and dUg are equally contributing, and it’s a really interesting dynamic.  A different dynamic than what I’m used to.  I had to learn to take a little bit of a backseat.  So, we have this record that is just not all me, which is wonderful.  I was able to learn by getting outside my box a little bit.  Reacting to Ray’s crazy tribal syncopated drum patterns and off times is something I normally don’t do.  Normally I come up with something that’s a little more pedestrian; then the drummer comes in and matches my riff.  Just adventurous as far as the drummer is concerned.  KXM, a lot of times that song started with Ray, with some crazy tribal beat (laughing) that I had to adapt to.  It was really fun, interesting.  So, it was a whole different way of doing a record for me.  And the results are quite different from anything I’ve done other than the first KXM record.

In terms of equipment, do you change up what you use with KXM. Are there stylistic differences?

I don’t really change my gear; although, I’ve got to say that my gear selection is pretty wide. In other words, I bring in a lot of options. I’ll bring in a truckload of different speaker cabinets, amplifiers, guitars, and pedal boards.  Then I’ll do a lot of mixing and matching, changing up mid-stream with this amp and that amp, different configurations.  But it’s nothing out of the ordinary; I just got a big mess of stuff up there (laughing). Whatever is best for that particular song or that day is what I do with most projects.

Obviously those that are familiar with KXM know the story of how you got together. You were attending Ray’s son’s birthday party, and late night the three of you started jamming. KXM came together from that, is that right?

 Yeah but that’s a pretty boring story; we need to come up with a better one.  Let me think of something here.  Sometimes I lie about it and make up this crazy intricate tale about how we heard about this wizard on Mahollow Mountain in Tomacapeek.  We had this secret map and made this quest, followed all these clues, and we were able to find this wizard.  He doesn’t really accept anybody to get his direction, so we had to pass a series of tests.  It’s kind of like the musical Karate Kid (laughing), you know wax on wax off.  You know he’s a real wizard, he’s got a white beard, pointy hat, and a wand with special powers.  He lives in a cave in a mountain.  And we did the record there.  So, that’s a better story then I was hanging out at a little kid’s birthday party (laughing).

Where did the name KXM come from?

Oh that’s another boring story; it’s just an amalgamation of our other band titles which is Korn, Lynch Mob, and King’s X. It’s kind of crazy all these different projects I’m involved in and so much creativity involved in them as far as the songwriting and the arrangements.  Then at the end of the day, we could never come up with a decent band name; we fell flat on our faces.  I have such a block about that; I don’t know why.  All these younger bands – alternative bands and metal bands -have these cool creative names, and the only thing we can come up with is our initials.

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  That seems to follow you around from Dokken to Lynch Mob and Sweet/Lynch.

I know T&N, Lynch, Lynch Mob, Lynch this Lynch that, and I’m like wtf? Here’s the problem with that quite honestly for us to do records and to monetize that we have to have record deals. The labels want to call the project something that is identifiable and that is my name or the others on project names to be able to sell it.  They don’t want the Invisible Pumpkins; they want the George Lynch and Pilson or Sweet and Lynch or whatever.  Something that is identifiable.  That’s the problem I’ve had in recent years in coming up with a creative band name.  For instance, I did a record in 1999 or 2000 called Smoke This, and actually the band was called “Lynch Mob.” It shouldn’t have never been called “Lynch Mob” as it wasn’t Lynch Mob really; it was a whole different band I got together in Phoenix, AZ, and these guys were more into the rap/metal kind of vibe. That’s kind of what the record was to an extent.  The thing is the record company insisted that if they bought the record they would be able to call it “Lynch Mob.”  So that’s between a rock and a hard place that I get caught in sometimes.  I can stick to my guns and say I’m not calling it that, but guess what? Then we get no record deal.  It’s a tough position to be in sometimes.

Your name has built a brand, right?

Yeah, but if a product is really cool, people will find it. If you build something that is valid, they will come.  You know the label is important.  You want something that really identifies in a cool way.  Music is not like a widget; music is a creative endeavor, so we want to have kind of a creative cool label on it.  A name on there that is imaginative, trippy and cool and describes it in a creative way rather than just a stale way.  It’s one of my biggest frustrations in music actually is this little problem with having the naming thing.

Any tour dates being kicked around?

For KXM, no. Our philosophy on that, we debated this endlessly, is that if we sell enough records, we will be forced to tour.  Make us tour basically.  If we get to 40,000, which is a big number these days, then we will absolutely find a way to do some meaningful touring.  Actually get across the country and hit most markets, which would take about two and a half months out of the year.  A couple weeks to prep for it then to get out and hit 15 or 20 cities.

That 40,000 mark should happen as it is an amazing record. RockRevolt gave it our top rating.

Well that’s a big number these days. There’s a lot of internal reasons why that’s difficult.  It’s not the 80’s anymore; we’re not on a major label.  Major labels own the radio stations, well not actually own them but own access to them.  If you’re on an independent record label, you have no access to radio, any kind of mainstream radio.  You have college and internet and specialty shows.  That’s a big deal because without that access people aren’t aware that you exist.  There’s a lot of music coming out every month, thousands of releases, it’s hard to get through.  Everybody is struggling to climb over everybody else to get noticed and heard.  It’s a tricky tricky business.  We do everything we can; I do dozens and dozens of interviews. I never deny an interview.  I’ll sit here all afternoon and talk to people about the record.  We’ll do anything in our power to make people aware that this record is out there.  It’s definitely an uphill battle for all of us out here, new bands, older legacy bands.  Name a band from the 80’s. Ratt puts out a new record it gets noticed but not by the same amount of people that bought Out of the Cellar.  It’s a tough game.

Did you ever think of what you would be doing if you didn’t make it as a guitar player?

Oh yeah. I never thought in my wildest imagination that I would play guitar for a living.  I’ve had every job on the planet, and the concept of doing this, making money at it, seemed ludicrous and never even occurred to me.  It was just kind of a thing I fell into almost accidentally.  I was playing music obviously but just to enjoy it because I loved being in a band and playing with my friends, writing songs, and playing guitar.  I wasn’t trying to be a Rockstar or anything.  I still had a job.  I was managing fast food restaurants (laughing), worked in warehouses, a factory, I was a teamster truck driver, a plumber’s assistant.  Then I was into construction.  I’ve done just about everything you can think of.  What else did I do? I worked in a furniture factory where I built furniture for a while.  I worked in a factory that built toilets for airplanes and boats.  I had a lot of weird jobs.

You’ve held down quite a few jobs. Do you recall the moment when you realized playing guitar would be your living?

Yeah, well it wasn’t really a clean transition; it was a couple year transition. In my late twenties, I was a teamster driving a liquor truck, and I actually continued to drive after Dokken signed our first record contract.  Even our second record contract I was still driving a truck.  In fact, I remember the day I signed the contract. I had to drive my work truck to Hollywood to the record company, go in sign the contract, and then go back to work.  I kept working for maybe another year or so.  In our experience, it wasn’t we went from one thing to the other immediately.  It was a very slow transition.  We ramped up. Our first bunch of shows and tours that we did we didn’t make any money.  Our records really didn’t make any money.  It took a while for that to kick in.

Not to get too much into it, but everyone is always curious about Dokken. It’s well documented the volatility of the relationship between Don (Dokken) and yourself.  Do you think with Don being the founder of Dokken and the focal point then when you came in, maybe you took some of the spotlight away from him? Did that create some tension between the two of you? Or was it creative differences?

(long pause) Ah I don’t really want to re-litigate the whole Dokken thing. You know we did the little reunion thing last year.  We’re working on a live DVD, a live record with some new studio tracks.  Talking about doing an acoustic record.  Maybe thinking about doing some more dates in 2018.  For us we’re just putting all that garbage in the past and not holding on to old shit.  The only reason I ever talk about it is because I do interviews with people, and they bring it up. I’ve got to stop being the unfiltered, open-book guy.  I’ve got to learn to start filtering that.

Well I along with many others would love to see the four of you onstage together, so I won’t push the issue any further.

For that to happen, we’ve definitely got to let go of the old bullshit. It’s like the exes getting back together and arguing over why the broke up in the first place.

What about some of the other projects you have going on; is Lynch Mob working on anything at the moment?

That record has been in the can for a while and will be released in June. It’s called The Brotherhood. It’s a great record.  Lynch Mob is a solid band; that’s my tour band.  Oni (Logan-vocals) and I are the core of the band.  Jimmy D’Anda (drums) and Sean McNabb (bass), they were in the band in the early 2000’s.  We’re like brothers; this feels like the real band.  It’s gelled, and it’s tight – a machine.  Our records are consistent; our performances are consistent.  That’s really my foundation at this point.  So we’ve got a record coming out in June.

What about Sweet & Lynch?

Sweet & Lynch, I just finished writing that. We are in the studio right now on the East Coast tracking the drums with Brian Tichy and bass with James LoMenzo.  That will be done probably in the next few weeks.  Michael’s got almost all the lyrics and melodies written.  That will go to mix soon.

Are you going to tour on it?

That’s always the million dollar question, a tricky one. When you’ve got four guys from four different bands, they are all busy and working.  That’s a tough one.

What about your documentary, Shadowtrain: Under A Crooked Sky.

Yeah that’s Shadownation; we changed the name. Shadowtrain is the band; we put a record out a couple/few years ago.  Until There’s Justice There Will Be No Peace is that name of the album.  It’s an amazing album; it’s a two record, double CD with twenty songs.  A very personal record for me.  I wrote most of the lyrics and melodies.  I’m not saying that to brag; I’m saying that because I’m proud.  The subject matter is something very close to my heart. I’m passionate about and spent decades working on.  I just felt compelled to express myself.  In a less one-dimensional way than I normally do with just the guitar.  That’s really a jewel of a personal record, something that might have gone under the radar a little bit.  I would like to see the movie come out, but it’s just been a struggle as I’m not really an experienced movie person.  I’m learning via the school of Hard Knocks what not to do the hard way.  We’re hopefully getting close.  The film has been done, but making a film without a plan and without any money is a difficult process.  We’re getting there; hopefully this film will be out later this year.  We’ve got Tom Morello and Ted Nugent; Serj from System of A Down is in it.  I interviewed Noam Chomsky from MIT, a personal hero of mine.  John Trudell and I wrote a song on the soundtrack.  He passed away recently; we dedicated the film to John.  He was a major force in the American-Indian movement.  Hopefully Shadownation will be out before the end of the year.  I have a few other projects, and I hesitate listing off all my projects because I think it gives people fatigue.  They’re like, oh my god we can’t keep track of all this.  But I’m just going to throw it out there.  I’ve got a project called The Banishment that I’ve been working on for about five years.  The singer is Tommy Victor from Prong, and it has an industrial vibe to it.  Not pure industrial, but it is industrial like.  I’ve always been a big fan of that kind of music.  I always thought how awesome that would be to hear a band like that but with what I imagine a guitar doing.  Or with Eddie Van Halen in it or something, that kind of feel.  And I thought I would love to create that someday because I never heard anything like that before.  That’s what we tried to do.  Lastly I have this project called Ultrafonics with Corey Glover from Living Colour and the rhythm section from Tower of Power and War.  That is basically an extension of Project Nfidelikah, which is a record I put out about two years ago that has a lot of funk elements and trippier elements with the singer from Fishbone, Angelo Moore.  On this record we decided to change the name of the band because we got a new singer.  It’s an incredibly fun record with all the funk elements but also some of the 70’s hard rock, trippy elements.  The way I like to describe it: it sounds like early Chili Peppers meets old Judas Priest meets King Crimson.  It’s even got some prog elements to it.  A very interesting piece of work.  So we’ve got all the music written for that and just finishing up on arrangements.  We’ve finished three songs with Corey and another eight songs to finish up vocally.  Then we’ll mix it.  That will be coming out later in the year.

What do you think of the current political state in the U.S. and the building of the wall on the Mexican border?

Well without alienating any of my fans or potential fans on the right, we’re living in a very scary time potentially. I think people in some sense have lost track; I think really when you get down to it foundationally you have to agree on is the fact that when we take care of each other we are at our best.  That form of altruism is why we’ve succeeded as an organism long term.  And when we start taking the view that we want to be selfish, fearful, and greedy and pick up the philosophy of “I’ve got mine, fuck you” that’s when things start falling apart.  That was the fall of the Roman Empire and the decline of Western civilization.  We really need to treat ourselves and the planet that sustains us compassionately and with intelligence and new science based logic to manage ourselves.  We need to be an educated society and a compassionate society and work for the greater good.

Well stated, I couldn’t agree more. Any final words for the fans?

I would just like to express my appreciation to you and to the people that read your magazine for tuning in and giving a shit. Keeping rock n roll alive.  Music is such an important thing in these trying times.  Music is really a sort of medicine for all of us.  It’s kind of the wilderness of the mind I like to describe it as.  It has that thing that we really can’t completely understand, but it’s so absolutely essential to all of us for our mental health and well being.  We’re all creative beings and we share that whether you’re a guitar player or you appreciate music or whatever.  We are all on the same wavelength here.

Well I’ve been a fan of yours since the early 80’s, and it’s been an absolute privilege to speak with you today. I look forward to all your projects and of course your new KXM record, out now, which is fantastic.  I wish you the best of luck going forward and hopefully will see you on the road with one of your projects in the near future.

We’ll definitely be out there with Lynch Mob. And thank you.

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INTERVIEW: George Lynch was originally published on RockRevolt Mag