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robin-the-enby · 1 year ago

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Hello ! Could you do an gomez x fem reader x morticia where you meet them when you pick up your sister to school and they get really taken by you and start invinting you to things and you get overwelmed by the affection and tell them they are very nice but a relationship its not what you are after

I never see a reader who doesnt want a romantic relationship, it would be nice to see one who just wants a physical one

Thank you !

It has no appeal

Pairing: Gomez Addams x f!reader x Morticia Addams

Summary: After meeting the infamous Addams family, you can't help but feel drawn to them. But when you notice that the attraction is mutual, you start to worry if you can give them what they are asking for.

Warnings: female reader, queerplatonic (?) relationship, a teensy bit of angst (happy ending tho), use of (Y/N)

A/N: I have successfuly graduated high school and got into university, so I finally have time to write! However, I am still sorry it took me this long to get to this request. I was thinking while writing this and I absolutely love this dynamic, especially maybe the dynamic between the reader's sister and the Addams children, so maybe I'll do something else with this dynamic in the future :) And as an (possibly) aromantic person, I am so delighted to be able to write this piece! I took a spin on the relationship dynamic that might not be exactly in tune with your experience, so be aware of that 😅

Waiting in front of the tall building, you looked at it with melancholy. You used to go to the same building for years and now, much later, you're picking up your younger sister here. It was a strange feeling that reminded you just how fast time flies and you quickly stomped it down before it got out of hand.

You recently found a small flat in your hometown after your last...relationship...ended. You had a thing going on with a really nice person in the city you studied at, but recently they admitted that they were looking for something you simply couldn't give them and so you parted ways. And life went on.

You thought that a change of scenery would do you good and so you moved back in with your parents, just until you could find something for yourself. In exchange, you helped them around the house and ran some errands for them. But one of your favourite "chores" was picking up your younger sister from school. It felt nice, walking the same streets you grew up in and seeing the teachers that used to teach you. And, of course, the quality time spent with your sister was a great bonus.

She was a lively young girl, who in a few years would go to middle school and you remember how big of a deal that was at your age, so there was lots to talk about. You loved gossiping about her classmates and teachers and hearing about the adventures she had with her friends.

One of them stood out to you. His name was Pugsley and he was a year or two younger than your sister. Every recess they spent time together, playing and discussing very important things, which she always told you about and you gave your insight on. You also learned that Pugsley's sister was your sister's classmate. Her name was Wednesday and although your sister didn't have any problem with her, she told you that she was quite strange, and could be quite mean to Pugsley. You thought it was mighty cute, imagining your sister standing up for her friend during recess against his sister, who had the strangest game ideas from what you've heard.

You talked about it with your parents, asking if you should talk to someone, just to ensure everyone's safety, but they only looked at each other and than at you with strange uncertainty. Apparently, the children were the daughter and son of Gomez and Morticia Addams, who moved into town just when you left for uni. You vaguely remember hearing about someone moving in and you'd certainly be more curious about the newcomers if you weren't preparing for a new big chapter of your life that was colledge.

Your parents explained that the Addams family was a strange bunch, with a strange lifestyle and beliefs. But, as odd as they were, they were actually lovely people and completely harmless, although most of the other citizens avoided them, due to their interest in all the dark, gloomy and macabre things. However, they never seemed to mind the ostracism they faced. So you let it go. Your sister continued to be friends with Pugsley and talked Wednesday out of harming him on the school grounds. Most of the time, that is.

Even after you found a place of your own, you continued picking your sister up from school, because it helped your parents, who were very busy even with your help, but you also just really enjoyed it. And that's where you were now, listening quietly to the excited chatter of children around you, walking hand in hand with their parents and telling them about the day they had. You would've pondered more on the strangeness of a child's mind, but somebody crashed into you, trapping you in a tight hug.

You turned your head and ruffled your sister's hair "Hey you. Long time, no see. How was school today?" You greeted her. She looked up at you with a grin "Hi sis! You won't believe what Micah did in art class today!" You smirked "Oh really? Well, what's the tea then?" Your sister mimicked your expression and was about to speak, when her eyes focused on something behind you. Suddenly, her whole face lit up and she raised her hand to wave it enthusiastically. Turning your head to see who your sister was waving at, you saw a young boy who was just reciprocating your sister's gesture. You didn't know most of your sister's friends personally, but seeing the slightly taller girl standing next to him with her arms folded and a slight frown on her face, you had a hunch of who it could be.

You didn't quite hear your sister's confirming exclamation that the boy was, indeed, Pugsley Addams, because your eyes locked with the two people standing proudly behind the two children. The women, presumably Morticia Addams, was tall and slender, with a visage similar to that of a ghoul, pale skin, raven black hair that shone in the sun and black clothes that, in contrast, seemed to swallow all the light that fell upon it. Her lips were painted a deep red colour and her eyes were just as dark as the rest of her, making it impossible to tell their colour. And yet, she had an almost...angelic aura around her. Like the forbidden fruit, looking perfect on the outside, all beautiful and evoking the feeling of security and peace. But, and you couldn't quite explain why, even if you tried, you felt that underneath it all, was a great power, that you almost feared to uncover. Maybe it was the way she was looking at you. There wasn't anything...malicious or hostile in her gaze. Just something...magical. Wise. As if she knew a lot more than you. And you found yourself believing it.

Blinking a few times, you managed to break the intense eye contact with Morticia and looked at her husband, Gomez. He was shorter and quite the contrast to his wife. Where she was calm and collected, he seemed to vibrate with energy, even while standing still. He, too, was looking at you, but in his eyes, was just a spark, as if he was inviting you to come over and talk. He seemed to be enjoying himself so much and yet, he was just picking up his children from school. His appearance and mannerisms were energizing and uplifting.

And suddenly you saw your sister skipping over to the strange family, running straight towards Pugsley. Your eyes widened and you rushed after her. As she threw her arms around Pugsley, blabbering about something excitedly, you placed your hands on her shoulders. Throwing a short, apologetic look towards Mr. and Mrs. Addams, you gently reprimanded your sister "You can't just run off like that, without permission or letting me know at least..."

Your sister looks up at you, a sad, guilty look in her eyes. With a face like that, you can't really stay mad at her. "I know you were excited to see your friend, but you can't just run off like that. If something happened to you, I wouldn't know where you are." you explain to her as you pet her hair softly. She smiles with appreciation before nodding and apologising. You reciprocate her smile before turning your attention to the family that was watching your interaction silently, but with interest.

"I'm sorry for my little sister, she can be excitable around her friends, she doesn't mean to be rude." you excuse your sister, but Mr. Addams just waves his hand "Oh nonsense! We know from Pugsley here that your sister is a good friend of his, and any friend of his is welcom with us anytime." he smiles energetically and you can't deny that his smile is rather attractive. Right after that thought you remember his wife is standing right next to him, but before you can start to feel bad, you notice the warm look on her face as she looks at you, still with that...knowing look on her face.

You smile at Mr. Addams "Well, I'm glad we haven't caused any trouble. I'm (Y/N) by the way. It's nice to meet you...mister Addams, right?" you introduce yourself. Mr. Addams takes your hand, giving it a firm handshake, although you can't help but feel he is holding your hand just a tad longer than is appropriate. "Oh please, drop the formalities. Since our children seem to be good friends, we might as well be too, if you'd like. The name's Gomez."

You wonder briefly if Gomez's wife is as enthusiastic about the proposition as he is, but when you turn your gaze to her, she is already reaching for your hand, holding it gently, but confidently in her own. She gives you a charming smile and when she speaks, it's as if a siren is calling out to you, a helpless sailor on the wide, wide sea "I think my husband is right. My name is Moricia. This is our daughter Wednesday," she gestures to the infamous girl, who is still sporting a very neutral expression, although she seems to be staring straight into your soul, as if assessing you, before giving a slight nod "and this is Pugsley, as you may know." The boy smiles warmly at you, giving you a polite greeting.

"Well, it was very nice to meet you all, but I'm afraid we have to go, otherwise our mother will be worried about what happened to us." you chuckle and smile at the couple. They seem like wonderful people, you can't understand why anyone would have anything against them. "As a mother myself, I can completely understand that." Morticia smiles "And we would not want to keep you any longer. But I was thinking, would you like to come over for a visit? The children will surely have fun together and we would be delighted to get to know you better. We've heard you recently moved back here?" as she says this, she grabs ahold of Gomez's hand as they both smile. You feel the intensity in their gaze, and et there is no pressure that would force you to agree. You look down at your sister, who looks at you with pleading, hopeful eyes and mouths the word "please", before you turn your gaze back to the couple and grin "Yes, that's right. And that sounds amazing!"

You exchange numbers and go your seperate ways. You register, out of the corner of your eye, them getting into a fancy looking, oldfashioned car, apparently with a personal driver. You don't think much of it and continue to walk home with your sister, who was excitedly skipping along the sidewalk, asking about when you were going to call them the entire way.

It didn't take long for the date of the visit to be set. Morticia called the next afternoon and you agreed to come over with your little sister at the end of the week, so that your sister wouldn't have to rush home and prepare for school.

Once the day came, you were actually pretty nervous, although you didn't really understand why. You blamed it on the fact that you're going to a stranger's home and you wanted to make a good impression. Because it definitely wasn't the fact that you were attracted to a married couple. Yeah, as if.

When you the big house the Addams' lived in, you had to say you were impressed. Sure, it was...unorthodox, but it had a strange charm. And when you were invited inside by a rather tall man, who, although his skin was almost gray and his expression somewhat...dead, seemed pretty nice, you almost felt...homey. The atmosphere of the home, paired with the type of people that lived there, was actually cozy. Gomez gave your sister directions to where she can find Pugsley and Wednesday and she promptly ran off, leaving you alone with the couple.

When she was out of sight, the man took your hand delicately and placed a simple kiss on your knuckles. A simple gesture, that was made much more sensual by the way he looked at you from below, his eyes glinting with...admiration, you would say, if it didn't seem so wrong. Still, you smiled politely and tried to think nothing of it. But you made a mental note to stop these kinds of actions if they would appear, thinking of his unfortunate wife.

Morticia was in the living room, sitting by a grand fireplace, reading a book. You didn't recognize it, but when you asked, it was revealed that the book was in French. You felt...uplifited, being in the presence of such stylish and intelligent people, that weren't snobbish, like you've encountered in the past.

They sat you down across from them on a small sofa and asked if you'd like anything to drink, or perhaps to eat. You declined the food, but you couldn't resist a nice drink to complement the lovely afternoon. The pair sat on another sofa across the small, seemingly old conference table, slightly turned towards each other, hands intertwined. But their sight was only on you. Both of them watching you intently, but their faces were gentle and their smiles welcoming. A thought crossed your mind. Maybe Morticia wasn't an unfortunate wife with a philanderer husband. And when Gomez started passionately retelling a story from his quite adventorous past, you couldn't help but let your mind wander. You wanted to listen, you really did, but his passionate movements, his grin, the lively glint in his eyes...And the way Morticia was listening to him, posed and collected as always, but oh so devoted to her husband, body, mind and soul, her gaze so tender...They looked so beautiful. A forbidden fruit that you could never experience the taste of.

"(Y/N), are you alright?"

You snapped out of your thoughts and you saw the pair look at you, their faces showing concern, a little bit of curiosity and perhaps a hint of slight disappointment. You shook your head, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks. "Oh, yes, I'm fine." you reassured them quickly "I am so sorry, my mind just...slipped. I promise I wanted to pay attention, you have a lovely way of telling stories, Gomez." you said, still not really used to being on first name basis on them in such a short while.

Lucky for you, they seemed to not take it personally. Morticia assured you that sometimes, the mind does what it wants and drifts where the body can't. In no time, you all finished your drinks and as Morticia went to put them in the kitchen, you stood up and offered to wash the dishes in return. She seemed hesitant, but you told her firmly you weren't going to take no for an answer and a smug smile bloomed on her face. When you looked back on it, she must've seen something in that action that drew her to you just as much as you were drawn to her.

You stood in the kitchen, side by side, you with your hands in the sink, scrubbing glasses and the woman of the house next to you, with a dish towel in her hand, drying and putting away different utensils you cleaned. You agreed to do all the dishes, since you were already at it. Once you were done, Morticia did something you didn't expect. Instead of vocalising her gratitude, she leaned towards you, placing one hand on your arm, and pressed a delicate kiss on your cheek. You were left wide eyed at the kitchen sink, the sponge still in your hand. She handed you another towel, and you dried your hands, noticin Gomez, who was stood leaning on the entry to the kitchen, smiling as smugly as his wife. So that's how it is...you thought.

You went to check up on your sister, who was playing a pretty suspicious game with the siblings, but she seemed unhurt and happy, so you let it go, gently reminding her to stay safe and not do anything she doesn't want to. Then yu spent the rest of the afternoon chatting nd getting to know the unsusual pair. You also met the other inhabitants of the house - Gomez's brother, Fester, Lurch, the man who opened the door for you, the grandmother (you didn't know her name, or if she even was related to the family, but she was very sweet) and lastly...Thing. You couldn't deny you were a little put off by a sentient severed hand, but you calmed down when he offered you one of his fingers to shake. Despite the strangeness, they were all so polite and lovely and fun to be around. But, you had to go home in the evening.

After that, your sister started to come over the Addams' household more and more often. And every time, you accompanied her, of course. While her days were spent having all kinds of adventures with Pugsley and Wednesday, yours were spent calmly with the parents. Gardening with Morticia, listening to Gomez and running little rerrands with him or simply reading in the living room, all the while flirting, first subtly, but the more time you spent together the more...serious it was.

You were now sure that there is a mutual attraction going on and that there wasn't anyone who was unaware or not consenting. It felt...nice, for a while. Slowly starting over, getting close to someone again. But you were beginning to feel afraid of what was to come. You tried to enjoy everything while it lasted, before they inevitably approached you with the proposition of becoming more than just friends. You were afraid of hurting them, and yourself, just like last time. But at the same time, you couldn't make yourself pull away from the affection.

It was on a fateful Tuesday night. The Addams' planned a sleepover for your sister, which obviously meant you would come as well. Somehow, you knew this was going to be the fateful night, the moment you were dreading for a long time now. And it seemed that time wasn't on your side either. Time spent with Morticia and Gomez always seemed to fly right past you.

They had prepared a big dinner, that, although it looked questionable, tasted amazing. Paired with a nice drink, you put the children to bed and soon you were relaxing on an elegant sofa, you in the middle, the pair surrounding you from both sides. Your shoulders were touching and even though you knew what was going to happen, that you would maybe never se them again, the places where your skin touched theirs felt electric, sending shivers down your spine.

Of course they took notice. They were both so intune with your emotions and body language, it was amazing and dreadful at the same time. Gomez placed an arm behind your shoulders, Morticia placing her hand softly on your thigh, both rubbing soothing circles.

"(Y/N)..." Morticia started. "Our dear (Y/N)..." murmured Gomez, his head leaning closer to your shoulder. "You know you are an amazing person, dear?" Morticia asked, and you looked at her, not finding words to respond. She must've seen the turmoil in your eyes, because she smiled reassuringly. "I believe you are very smart, our darling." she continued "And that you can see that...we like you." "Oh, I think like is not even close to how we feel about you, corazón." Gomez said, placing a kiss on your shoulder, making you gasp. Morticia sent him a look "Gomez, behave yourself. We need to talk this out first and foremost. And I believe our trésor has something important to say." She looked at you just a intently as always and yet so tenderly, like only Morticia can. Your heart was beating out of your chest, your hands clammy as they clutched at your clothes. You took a deep breath. Now or never.

"Yes, I've noticed you have feelings for me. And everything you've done for me, and my sister, and everything you continue doing, I appreciate it. You don't even know how." you start, wanting them to know you care about them, just..differently. "But, I'm afraid, I cannot give you what you deserve. I'm sorry to tell you that...I'm not interested in a romantical relationship." And the truth was out. There was no return. Yet, you had to continue. "I...I care for you, and your family. You are amazing people and together, you both are so beautiful, it's almost ethereal sometimes..." you chuckle "Whenever you touch me, I feel as if my very soul was on fire. But...romance is not something I can give you." you finish and study their faces intently.

For once, the pair isn't smiling. You almost start to take it as a bad sign, an omen of a near end. But, Morticia looks up from your face to her husband and after some silent conversation between them, they nod at each other, once. Only once and they know exactly what the other wants, what they're thinking. Oh how you admire them, you think, as a small ember of hope still prevails inside your chest.

"Cariño..." Gomez takes your hands in his, stealing your attention. His eyes are soft and his face adorned by a sympathetic smile. "Don't apologise. There is nothing to apologise for. Some things we cannot help. And while you will belong to us, body and soul, we won't ask of you to return anything you don't feel you have. If you'll agree to that, that is." he smiles at you and nods and you actually feel like you might shed a few tears, happiness and relief washing over you and blooming in your chest with such force you think you might burst.

You feel hands on your shoulders and Morticia lays her head on your shoulder "What do you say, notre cœur?" And you laugh. You laugh happily, your eyes glinting. Instead of saying anything, you take your hands from Gomez and turn to Morticia. And cradling her face softly, you seal your answer with her lips. And then Gomez's. And then you seal it again, and again, and again.

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cougheemedicine · 4 months ago

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Twisted Fairytales; Twisted Wonderland Fantasy!au - Prologue

Will include all main cast x GN!Reader

Summary: A nameless adventurer with an incredible amount of friends in high places. Each more infamous and conniving than the last. The things those friends are willing to do for you is only a glimpse of how a so-called "Nobody" ensnared the most powerful in the continent.

A/n: A little au I'm cooking up. Not entirely sure where this will go so I'm not going to put any warnings/specific content until I get the individual chapters out. If this goes anywhere I'll probably add Neige, Che’nya, Rollo, etc. I already have come ideas cooking up for them. Have fun, dear adventurer~ 〜(￣▽￣〜)

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

Night Raven College. An incredibly prestigious academy, whose history goes so far back in time that only the oldest Fae of the Briar Valley can even begin to fathom the legacy that such a renowned institute holds, and whose reputation reaches even the darkest corners of the kingdom. Aristocratic families from all over the continent vie to send their children to study the art of magic in its' hallowed halls.

You had attended such a college, once upon a time, though you are far from noble. You met the esteemed headmaster by chance one day, but you didn't know at the time. You had sold him a newspaper, and he grinned at you from under the beak of his mask and patted you on the head. He flipped a single gold coin into your shaking hands, it was the most money you had ever seen at the time. When you had turned around to thank him, more than ready to drop onto your knees and praise the dirt he walked on, he was gone. Leaving only a lone, ink-black feather in his wake.

You can only assume he took pity on you. Some unclaimed, nameless child, too old to be taken in by an orphanage but too young to be sent off to the mines. In a village so small and far North it didn’t even have a name. The old crones of your small village would wax poetic about his benevolence and graciousness (only after they prattled on about his villainously handsome face). You couldn't even read, let alone weave illusions from incantations or summon a beast from a bubbling brew.

But he appeared before you nonetheless, with a flurry of his feathered cape. He offered you his hand, that which dripped in gold, and swept you off to Night Raven College. Over the years he taught you everything you know now. He taught you how to paint and juggle, how to fluently read and speak every language used on the continent, even some more eccentric practices like how to identify cursed objects, how to weave certain sprigs of herbs together to create the most powerful warding charm, even which nerve to pinch to have any assailant drop unconscious instantly.

While under the roof of Night Raven College, you met creatures from every walk of life. One could say you were popular, even. Everyone wanted to get to know the charge of the infamous headmaster Crowley. You grew close to many, some you would even call your friends. Some others, maybe more. But they led very different lives than you. Friendships fade, it's simply a way of life. Even if waving goodbye to them as they graduated and left you behind stung in a way you don't really wish to name.

You stayed at the college longer than most. Not taking classes, simply acting as an errand runner for the headmaster as a way to repay him for guiding you to a much better path in life. But even he, past his grandeur and games, could see that you wished to spread your wings farther than the astronomy tower and botanical garden.

With a final pat on your head, he sent you away to pave your own path. His name and the beautifully detailed dagger on your hip, an ivory crow head for the hilt, as your only weapons. On your own you ventured for more years, gaining wisdom from those you met on the way. You had all but forgotten your old friends from your school days. All until one fateful day.

Sat on the edge of the cliff, you gazed down at the view below you. The sun was setting, painting the sky in vibrant hues. You were in your own world, leaning back on your arms and kicking your feet over the edge of the cliff. Until a shrill meow drew your attention elsewhere. A scruffy grey cat emerged from the undergrowth. Eyes too blue to be a normal feline blinking up at you. A black and white bow tied neatly around his neck. In his mouth was a letter, the envelope only the most ornate of finery. The crest on the wax stamp was that of a noble house.

The cat curled up in your lap as you used your dagger to cut the envelop open. The parchment inside just as luxurious as what housed it. You scanned the words on the page, language so flowery and formal it may as well have been another language of it's own, but you got the message.

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

Where will you go first, dear adventurer?

Heartslabyul Manor, the home of the ruthlessly strict Grand Duke Riddle Rosehearts and his cronies. They say he bows to nobody but the queen himself.

Savanaclaw tavern, the home base of a ragtag group of mercenaries. Rumor has it their roguish leader, Leona, isn't of this land, and that his reputation is far from good where he’s from.

Octavinelle Gambling Den, a house of luxury and debauchery. The head, Master Azul, is said to be incredibly kind and benevolent. For the small price of your darkest secrets.

Scarabia Merchant's Guild, a travelling guild with gold flooding from every crack in their coffers. The ever-so-kind Master Kalim is said to only be the face of the guild. His servant is who really runs things.

Pomefiore palace, the main residence of the illustrious Queen of the region, Vil Schoenheit. His past is stained red, as is the story of how he managed to sit on the throne. But the people adore him, so what is there to see if not perfection?

Ignihyde tower, the hiding spot of the forsaken Lord Idia Shroud. Head chair of the Magic Council. His brilliance is said to be unparalleled, but people talk... and sources say he hid himself from society after committing a sin to magic itself.

Diasomnia castle, skeptics say that centuries ago, the old castle at the northern border was occupied by Fae royalty. Now it seems there's life in those haunted halls once more, for an air of regality hangs heavy in the fog surrounding the grand castle.

Many a path to choose, and you have all the time in the world. But, even still, do you think it wise to keep them waiting?

I wish you luck,

Choose wisely, my dear adventurer~

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

work belongs to @cougheemedicine, all forms of plagiarism, modifying, translating, reposting are not allowed.

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presidentlokis-hornyhelmet · 1 year ago

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A Purr-fect Distraction

Part 2 >> 🕸MASTERLIST🕸

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar x black cat!Fem!Reader Summary: Pavitr aka Spider-Man is swinging through the dark streets of Mumbattan with his ✨amazing hair✨ when a thief in a catsuit catches his eye. Tags: Attempted Theft, Horrible cat puns, distraction, pav being cutesy, complimenting his hair is pavitr's weakness XD

Also Read on AO3

🎶🎵Do you wanna play a game, Do you Gotta catch me if you can, Catch me if you can You can try, Maybe wanna stay Catch me if you can I'm a runaway🎶🎵 'Catch Me If You Can' by Alan Walker

Pavitr Prabhakar, aka the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, swings through the crowded streets of the never sleeping city, Mumbattan. The chilly midnight wind flows through his hair, curled locks moving like waves under the silver moonlight.

He catches his reflection on a glass tower and takes a detour, leaning closer to inspect his beauty. "Hey, stud muffin!" he praises himself, making finger guns to his reflection. Pavitr runs his gloved fingers through his locks, revelling in being the proud owner of such amazing hair.

It was at such a moment that he catches movement in one of the closed shops down the lane. A woman in a black catsuit and long white hair is moving the display glass, obviously trying to break in.

"Halt, theif!"

Pavitr at once springs into action, yelling as he swings over to the shop in less than a second and webs up her hands together.

_____

"Halloween come soon for you, miss?"

You startle at his voice, raising your arms when you realise they're stuck together by some sticky fluid. It is only then that Pavitr gets to see you clearly -well, except for the mask framing your eyes that hold him captive.

Neither of you speak for a while, Spider-Man entranced and you confused. It was kinda insulting: a kid in a Diwali dress making you stand like an idiot in the middle of the road.

"Wow, who are you!", he sighs dreamily and only seems to remember himself when you raise a brow. He clears his throat. "I meant, who're you?"

"Don't know me? I'm the infamous Black Cat. I do petty crimes like theft, picking pockets and occasionally kneeing assholes in the crotch. Want a demo?"

You throw your leg up to kick him but he's quick to grab it in a tight hold.

"Curious profession", he says, words thick with sarcasm.

"Nah, just a passion", you shrug, ripping off the webs easily and wiggle out your leg from his grip, swiftly climbing up the wall like a feline.

"Hey, hey, I never said you could leave, kitty!" He tries to get you to stop by webbing you up once more, but you evade his shots easily.

You smirk. "Amazing hair, by the way!"

"Thanks", he blushes under the mask, rubbing his neck and you use the distraction to get away, "nothing much, just coconut oil, prayer, some gene- hey!"

You lose him, but sadly not for long as he stands right next to you when you reach the top of the building. Dang it. You try you weasel your way out but he's blocking your path.

"C'mon", he says, keeping a friendly warm hand on your shoulder, "I can see you have powers; use them to fight crime, be a hero."

You smirk and tilt your head in amusement, "You say this to all your villains, Rangoli-face?"

"FYI, I'm Spider-man. And you're not a villain, just a pretty theif."

"I'll be no less pretty when I kick your ass."

Quick as a flash, you pounce on him with your claws but he dodges you. Thanks to spidey sense, Pavitr misses all of your swift hits, blocking your punches and throws. You're quick, but he's quicker. You jump high in the air aiming a kick to his face, but spidey spins his toy, tying you up to a pole easily.

You struggle against the thick web solution. What the heck was this thing made of!?

"Let. Me. Go! Unless you rather I scratch your face off, Mr. Gorgeous."

It doesn't seem to have the desired effect, making you frown. He raises a brow, taking his spin-toy and begins to play with his webs. Is this dude for real?!

When it feels like he'll just stand there and watch, you sigh in exasperation. "Bro, why do you insist I change? I hardly know you."

"Doesn't matter. Think about it, you could help me patrol the city; one more hand to prevent crime. I'm paw-sitive you'll make the purr-fect paw-tner", he chuckles at his own pun.

The thought is amusing but you aren't in the mood. You are, after all, supposed to distract him from the real heist -which you've obviously succeeded. Your partners would be done by now. Maybe you'll take him up on his offer after you've split the fortune.

You quit struggling and send him a sweet smile. "Hmm.. can't say I'm not tempted. Can you release me now, please?"

Spider-Man sighs as he takes out a tiny blade and cuts through the web. You stumble out, feeling the blood rush to your leg as it wakes up after. Ow, that's horrible feeling.

"So, is that a yes?", he asks, eyes big through the colourful mask. Aww, he looks like one of the Golu dolls up close!

He freezes in place when you suprise him with a kiss to his cheek, the pleasant shock throwing off his spidey-sense. You kick him down while he's still dazed and get on the balcony, about to make your inevitable escape when he realises he's been tricked.

You smirk, throwing him one last glance behind your shoulder. "Only if you catch me!"

With that you jump off the building and disappear into the night, Pavitr finding no trace of you even though he follows right after.

He smiles to himself, standing atop the highest tower of Mumbattan as he looks over the lively lit city.

"Oh, I will, kitty cat."

-----

Hope you enjoyed it! Reblogs and comments feed my fic dragon <3🐲 [pspspspsss Can you tell I googled Indian festivals?]

#pavitr x reader #pavitr x you #pavitr x y/n #pavitr prabhakar x you #pavitr Prabhakar x reader #pavitr prabhakar x female reader #pavitr prabhakar x fem reader #pavitr prabhakar x y/n #spiderman india #pavitr x fem reader #pavitr x f! reader #astv #across the spiderverse #black cat reader #pavitr prabhakar x black cat reader #pavitr x black cat reader

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revacholianpizzaagenda · 11 months ago

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Nuclear hot take on a possible motive for the Lund sisters. We know what they did (erase themselves from history) and we know they wanted to do it (they knew where they'd end up and were looking forward for Zigi to join them there eventually), but why?

It starts from the infamous "Luiga says that he and Kurvitz say that a certain forum post is is correct in positing that Dora is, somehow and to some degree, actually Dolores Dei herself". Specifically, the post says that there was a human Dora who was overtaken by something like an archetype and lost herself into being Dolores Dei.

As a secondary premise, it is possible that Noid was literally right when he suspected Dolores Dei in particular of being somehow not entirely human, an immortal of some kind: in the final dream, she mentions the something or something else of immortality, crown scepter and thingamajig that were "passed onto her by the rulers of late antiquity". She just might have already been around in Perikarnassis' time, before the isolas split. Like, separate from the Dora thing, the game tells us that Dolores Dei was chummy with the rulers of late antiquity, a good few thousand years before her historical relevance.

My impression is that this same... potential for being Dolores Dei... ...somehow... is shared by the Lund girls. Source:

similar if not outright same surname (after all, Jean lampshades twice that he's not sure about Ingerlund being Dora's surname, in a way that may hint at some upcoming twist),

the whole peaches of immortality detour (I'll leave the specifics to Estonian speakers but I'm told it's functionally the same as Dora's apricots, to the point that an older pdf had a stray "apricot" instead of peach)

and, most importantly, Zigi's omen of destruction as he meets Charlotte. She's flat out described as having footsteps that spelled the destruction of Iilmaraa, which just so happens to be where Perikarnassis was, bundled with its rulers of late antiquity (I can do the geographical conspiracy board on a separate post if anyone's interested).

I think that Dora meeting Harry and Charlotte meeting Zigi is the beginning of the same story, one that may have been repeating since antiquity if we take this literally as well. Harry and Zigi, too, famously share an archetype of sorts, by virtue of being overt, straightforward Kurvitz expys. We even have the same emphasis on their cool leather jackets. For the middle class girls, this contact outside their gilded world sparks change. But here is where their stories diverge: Dora eventually rejects this change and falls into the comfort of being bourgeoisie incarnate. The Lund sisters, on the other hand, emphatically go "fuck all y'all" and choose to annihilate themselves.

Sooo, based on these totally solid premises that aren't a stretch in any way whatsoever (source: my beautiful mind, also it was revealed to me in a dream, and also fayde dot co dot uk), here's the take:

By virtue of this parallel between them and Dora, I think it's... not completely impossible... that it was precisely this aspect of themselves that they tried to annihilate, maybe subconsciously. A potential they felt was so wrong that they tried to erase it from history entirely, just walking into the pale wouldn't have been enough, it needed to be scrubbed at its root.

#If I had to type all this on a rickety phone for a reddit convo you people get to suffer through it too #mine #dolores dei #lund sisters #PJÕL #separate post incoming for the jackets thing because ough.#disco elysium #püha ja õudne lõhn #sacred and terrible air

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batsplat · 5 months ago

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I saw the post about assen 2016 and Marc cutting the chicane and was wondering if Marc did that a lot to his competitors like the imitation of mind games. Cause I’ve always thought of Vale as the one who used the mind games more. Did Marc use mind games a lot and was just more subtle?

(assen '16)

if you're interested in reading more about marc marquez mind games, then boy do I have a post for you

anyway, I can't really think of anything that's all that similar to assen 2016 because that's such a specific situation... not every day that you have something as memorable and as easy to visibly imitate and as controversial as cutting the final chicane. of course, if we're talking about imitation, it's pretty hard to avoid mentioning how marc did infamously copy two out of valentino's three most well known career overtakes within half a year of joining the premier class, and was also pretty shameless about the whole thing. but at least there you can say it's all about the race situation marc happened to find himself in - and there will only have been so much premeditation possible with both incidents

more broadly speaking, then, targeted behaviour where he's trying to send a message to one of his competitors during non-race sessions... well, that's fairly common. he loves using non-race sessions to study and stalk and at times deliberately harass his competitors. I'll give a little more details on one specific incident here to demonstrate what I'm talking about. it's related to towing, as it so often is with marc, and I ended up only briefly mentioning it in the post linked above. for context, marc spent a fair bit of time in 2019 trying to mess with the rookie revelation fabio quartararo, sometimes during the races themselves and sometimes outside of them. nothing wrong with hazing your young challengers, right? so one of the more widely discussed incidents took place in sepang 2019 qualifying (tw crash):

big fan of how the article very strongly implies that when marc says the words "honestly speaking", he was not, in fact, honestly speaking. did a single person on this planet believe marc when he said he just happened to end up right behind fabio? who knows, maybe there's someone out there, who knows...

obviously, marc and his team weren't really trying to hide what they were doing, which makes it even funnier that marc just goes for this completely shameless 'oh it was all just a coincidence' routine. and of course, this entire episode ended on a pretty sour note for marc. even though he tried to shrug it off in the moment, this incident did come with consequences for him:

which, yeah. lot's to be said here, lots to be said. but let's return to the actual point of the post, the mind games

in the end marc did do a rather nice salvage job in the race, p11 to p2 - and fabio didn't win the race, which I'm sure was appreciated. here's a nicely in-depth description of the incident that I'm going to liberally steal excerpts from. it's a good bit of extra insight on both the episode itself and what it represented in the broader context of the dynamic between the pair of them

it's part of the established playbook when it comes to dealing with promising young talent: you try to rough them up in the races and you try to rough them up outside of them. you try to make them nervous, maybe you even try to scare them. and so the cycle continues

this is the thing, right, marc really does view all on-track sessions as time to 'work' on his rivals. he's never been focused solely on himself during these sessions - and the towing thing has never just been a matter of practicality for him. 'the race doesn't just happen on sunday' 'great riders, champions, are bullies' 'they don't just want to win, they want to rub the rest of the world's noses in it'... marc has always adopted that philosophy in his racing (and he learnt from the best). he's never been shy in his tactics of intimidation - in his efforts to undermine his rivals' confidence and make them suffer. it's all part of the game

and then, of course, there's the bit of insight we get about how marc was reportedly worried about fabio because of his talent and fearlessness... a rookie who hadn't even won a race yet. and yet marc's "been doing his best to instil fear" into fabio. unfortunately it's not always easy to spook young talent, especially when they're so very brave... it's a tricky line to toe - by marking out your rivals like that, you are also letting them implicitly know you see them as a threat. which if anything can help motivate them and make them more confident. inconvenient

anyway, l'll include some more of the description of the incident, which helps illustrate just how little effort marc was going to in attempting to hide his underhanded behaviour (and how that may have been the whole point):

inherently, right, this 'battle of nerves' is a really important element of the whole towing strategy. it's about your read of the other rider, your analysis of their character, how you think they will play the situation... how much you think they're willing to risk, how much you think they'd be motivated to just fuck you over regardless, how prepared they will be to call your bluff. and in the context of sepang 2019, with that year's title very much sealed up, marc decided that he was prepared to play this game for as long as he had to. marc had won the last five races, fabio was still searching for his first ever win... marc knew young and hungry fabio would blink before he did

which, yeah. less than ideal to engage in mind games in a way that ends up getting you injured. this whole incident does serve as a good illustration of marc's overall approach, but obviously this specific episode wasn't particularly successful or indeed wise from marc's side. all in all, it probably wasn't all that intimidating for fabio when marc crashed behind him

anyway, here's some more bits talking about how marc was perhaps not being 100% honest in his post-qualifying interview:

even though in this specific example marc did admittedly fuck it, a lot of this kind of behaviour isn't bad long-term investment because it's meant to be cumulative, where you're just consistently putting pressure on someone... as it says above, "every ounce of energy spent worrying about you is one which can't be spent on trying to go faster". so you're hoping to distract your opponents, you're hoping that this constant tension will eventually unsettle them - or that you've spent so much time studying and analysing them that you can figure out how to bother them more effectively (*coughs* 2008 *coughs again*). or maybe you just can't help yourself in messing with your opponents and sometimes it is counterproductive because you've shown them how seriously you take them as a rival. maybe sometimes it's a bit of all of those things!

on fabio's reaction:

which is a pretty friendly response, it has to be said! but anyway, of course 'if he wants to follow us we are doing a good job' is probably the most healthy and useful takeaway from the whole thing. that's the thing with bullies, isn't it, you do have to figure out a way to stand up to them. fabio might have been annoyed while marc was picking on him, but he's not picking a fight with marc after the fact. he's just making it clear that he's not been intimidated - and has bagged himself pole in the process while marc started from eleventh place. as fabio says, "it's a little bit part of the game". but it is a game, and it's one that marc has always been more than happy to play

#is marc really THAT much more subtle? I think it's a bit tougher to pin him down given proportionately it's more on-track #but the question is more *how* marc does it - not *that* he does it... I mean this kind of thing I wouldn't really describe as 'subtle'#I used to be more plugged into motogp forums so idk if marc's reputation has gotten an unexpected makeover in general #or if it's just website-specific. the mind games were for sure something people always associated pretty closely with marc #like he does have a pretty rossi-like reputation lol. people think he's less prone to feuding... but less prone to *mind games*? eh #not a criticism anon I just think this reputational stuff is interesting in its own right!!#brr brr #fabio quartararo #//#fq20 #batsplat responds #somehow the child bullying post is the most lighthearted thing i'm scheduling today... ah well #this was all another thing that got cut out of the mind games post... I mean ig if I keep getting marc marquez mind games asks lol #*sigh* everyone was so pumped for this rivalry... such an interesting case study to see if the relationship WOULD have deteriorated #*whispers very very softly* you know which other rivalry with a six-ish year age gap -#- reportedly included dodgy behaviour in non-race sessions in the younger bloke's rookie season...#mind u if marc did this to rookie casey there is a non-zero chance casey would have quite literally punched him on the bike

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the-writing-mobster · 10 months ago

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Where I can read your fics? They seem pretty interesting!

Thank you for the ask, love! Fic links, anyone?

You can find all of my fics on Ao3! I need to make an actual like... Official link post, don't I? I used to have one pinned but other things take priority.

So I guess I'll sprinkle the links to my fics here for your immediate viewing pleasure instead of sending you on a wild goose chase ;)

IMPORTANT NOTE — A lot of my fics are locked so only people with confirmed AO3 accounts can read them. This is because of AI scraping, obvs. TMDG is the only one that I think is unlocked since it's fairly new. But it'll eventually get locked as well.

| The What Do You Want Duology | 🥀 💀 |

(YWIW, the sequel, still lies unfinished, unfortunately, but WDYW is completed and currently under revisions!)

Summary (for those still not in the know):

Frisk spent most of her life fighting to survive in a cruel world where her only upper hand was her soul's Determination and her feminine charms. After angering the most dangerous man in her life, she is thrown down into Hell to be ripped apart and destroyed by the demons said to inhabit it. With her soul refusing to give up, of course she survives.

However, when she is taken hostage by the infamous Gaster brothers, she finds herself trapped in the strange, abyssal gaze of Sans the Skeleton. With political and sexual tensions on the rise, can these two work through their differences? Or will they forever be asking each other, "What Do You Want?"

—

| Baby Face - UF Highschool AU | 💖 🤘🏻 |

Technically an au based off of my characterizations of the UF characters in wdyw. This one is tooth rottingly sweet and set in a surface Ebbott City in the 90s. Inspo was movies like Clueless & the documentary Kid 90. I actually loved this story so much I completely reworked it and turned it into an original novel.

Important to note that this fic isn't really a romance. It's more about platonic love and friendships than it is about Frans romance.

Summary:

Seniors should not date freshmen. No matter what. Not even if the freshman is hot. Not even if the freshman says it's ok. Not even if the freshman makes moves. That’s the mantra Sans lives by, and even though Frisk, one of the cutest girls according to all of his friends, catches a crush of epic proportions on him, he makes it a point to keep his distance. She’ll thank him later.

Sans is in a rock band and Frisk has a big ole unrequited crush on him.

—

| The Most Dangerous Game | 💙 🔪 💔 |

The dreaded serial killer dead dove fic we've all been raving about recently!!!

It's important to note that this one isn't a romance. They are (albeit obsessive) enemies through and through.

Summary:

Frisk Starling should've been used to cases like these. After all, it was her duty to investigate. Give the victims their voice back, catch the sick freak who did it and give the broken families the justice she couldn’t have for herself.

That is until a string of murders throughout the tristate area begin to appear. Women used like toys, mutilated and disposed of for the cops and journalists to find with only the tiniest slivers of useless evidence and the glaring fact that all the women...

Every…

Single…

One…

Look almost exactly like her… Frisk begins to wonder if maybe… the monster she's hunting down has turned her into the hunted.

And God, does she make the most exhilarating, delicious prey yet…

—

Honorable mention One Shots:

| The Witch, The Judge & the 3 Card Gamble | ♠️♥️♣️ |

Probably my best prose ever. Genuinely.

Summary:

After suffering a gruesome bullet to the ribs, the vengeful Witch hovers over a dying fire, praying her campsite isn’t spotted by vagabonds who’d surely make her pay for existing…

But as a shadow blots out the stars if not for the two red pricks of light glaring her down, she fears her true nightmares have come to claim her after all; The Grim Reaper, the judge of her fate.

And she doesn’t like her odds.

—

| We'll See - Christmas Rom Com | 🎄 💕 |

I wrote this as a secret Santa present to @themsource. It is very cute and fucking funny if I do say so myself. It puts the comedy in Romantic Comedy.

Summary:

Sans has some inhibitions about Christmas, clouded with cynicism and bitterness. But if there's anyone to make him have a change of heart, it's Frisk; Ebbot City's own Little Miss Mother Teresa.

—

☣️ HONORABLE MENTION SMUT ONE SHOTS ☣️

| French Kisses | Smut | 🫧💓 |

Summary: Sans has landed a well-paying position as a senior accountant and Frisk has a few ideas on how to reward him — one of those ideas involves a French Maid dress.

| The Librarian's Assistant | Smut | 📚💓 |

This one was pretty steamy...

Summary: Frisk's days working as a librarian can get pretty quiet and repetitive... Until a new patron with an obvious infatuation with her starts becoming a regular visitor.

Eventually she can't help herself...

I hope you are satisfied with my thorough answer! If you do end up reading, I'd love to hear from you again on your thoughts! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

‼️ Also — join my discord for readily available updates and fun discussion! DM me for the invite since those invite links expire ‼️

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ananke-xiii · 6 months ago

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“Regarding Dean” is an okay episode, the perfect episode to place between “Lily Sunder has Some Regrets” and “Stuck in the Middle with You”. It feels filler-y but it’s totally not because it shows us where Sam and Dean stand as far as s12 main themes are concerned: family&love.

To the surprise of probably nobody, we find out that Sam is struggling a lot when it comes to how he positions himself within his family and around the people he loves. Dean, on the other hand, is walking on a much safer ground (which seems like a joke since the ep is literally about Dean slowly losing his memory but I’ll get there), he’s ready to move on to the next chapter of his life, a chapter where his relationship with his brother is not his only&main focus.

Who are the other members of Sam and Dean’s family? This episode tells us it’s Mary and Cas. Even though, so far in the season, Mary has come and gone, Cas has spent a considerable amount of time with none other than Crowley and the brothers have spent a couple of months in prison, the episode explicitly highlights multiple times that Mary and Cas are their family, no matter the amount of time they all actually spend together: what matters is the infamous bond between them.

And who’s feeding this bond? Who’s actually keeping in touch with Mary and Cas? Who’s the primary point of contact? Dean, of course. At the beginning of the episode, when Sam meets Dean at the waffle joint and realizes Dean is maybe drunk and his smartphone is dead, he says: “All right, well, I'll text Mom, make sure she knows to get a hold of me in case of emergency. And Cas, in case he tracks down Kelly”.

So it’s safe to say (and it is because we’ve already seen in past episodes that Sam is definitely not the one playing games and texting with Mary, nor the one calling Cas or receiving calls from him: people in this family know who to contact and it’s not Sam) that Sam is somehow detached from this family dynamic and, we’ll later discover, doesn’t really know what to make of this.

After Sam discovers that Dean is not hangover but hexed, the first thing Dean says is: “Look, we could figure this out, okay? Don't go callin' Mom or Cas with this”. Mmmm, interesting. We’re back to Mary and Cas. Again. And why shouldn’t Sam call them? And, maybe more importantly, why Sam doesn’t call them anyway? So maaany questions :P

The last time Mary and Cas are mentioned together again is in the mirror scene. Dean is regarding himself in the bathroom mirror, trying to remember who he is and he defines himself as follows: “Ahh. Okay. My name is Dean Winchester. Sam is my brother. Uh, Mary Winchester is my mom. And Cast—Cas is my best friend”. So Dean defines himself based on his relationship with the different family members: brother, son, best friend. Once he starts forgetting who these people are he also starts forgetting himself:

“My name is Dean Wi—Winchester.

My name—My name is...

My... My... I don’t know”.

This is crucial. The scene is quite tragic but it’s telling us an important truth: what matters to Dean, what’s important to him to the point that it defines who he is, is his relationship with his family, with the people he loves. I said that it’s quite tragic because, at least to me, it’s a bit bleak that Dean doesn’t know who he is without other people. But I’ll come back to this point later.

So who is Dean? The reply comes right after the mirror scene from Rowena’s mouth: “Oh, you're a killer, Dean Winchester”. And this is super interesting because just before we had this dialogue:

Rowena: You can really remember nothing, can you? What a gift not to recall the things you've done.

Dean: What have I done?

Are people the things they have done? Rowena could’ve said “You kill people, Dean” but no, she says “You are a killer”. And okay, the use of the verb “to kill” can start a debate on morals&justice&law (what’s the difference between killing and being a killer etc) but not the point here. The point here being that Rowena, regarding Dean, is confusing being and doing but Dean is not. He replies: “Wait, I... I kill people?”.

Rowena continues in her “misunderstanding”:

Rowena: But... but... though you may be a stubborn pain in the arse with the manners of a Neanderthal and the dining habits of a toddler, everything you've done, you've done... for the greater good.

Dean: Oh, and that's supposed to make it okay?

Rowena: I wouldn't know. You help those other than yourself. But me, I've done horrible things, and I told myself it was fine. It was the price of power. And power's what matters, right?

Then I met God and his sister. The two most powerful beings in the universe, wasting it on squabbling with each other. I thought, if—if they can't be happy, or at least satisfied, how can there be any hope for me?

Okay, so now we maybe have a clearer picture of who Dean is: he’s a killer (or he kills people) but he does so for the greater good. To help people other than himself. This is not exactly news to us, I mean, this episode is not telling us anything actually NEW about Dean but the catch is that it’s not about him, it’s about regarding him. How people perceive him and how he perceives himself. The last being the most important thing, we’ll have the answer at the end of the episode.

Rowena also drops the “happy” bomb. She’s talking based on the assumption that she must do things in order to be happy, even if these are horrible things, things she tells herself she's fine doing them because it’s the price of power. We’re starting to see the old theme of the “price of happiness” and Rowena thinks she’s paid it but she’s still unhappy and she’s becoming hopeless.

(Cas' love declaration in s15x18 echoes Rowena's dialogue, apart from the Dean thing (you're not a killer aka you're not how your enemies regard you, you're the most caring man aka you're how the people that love you regard you etc), Cas' words circle around the same concept: happiness is not in the having, is in the being or, maybe even more importantly, is in the giving oneself permission to be your true self)

Now we need to talk about Sam. While Dean is having an existential crisis in the bathroom, Sam drops another fucking bomb: “You know, I've seen my brother die, but watching him become... not him... This might actually be worse”.

Excuse me, sir? I mean, this is a very very loaded thing to say. To Sam Winchester seeing his brother dying might be better than watching him become not him. Which is also incorrect, because Dean is not not becoming him, he’s just Dean without "the weight" of the past on his shoulders. (btw, will somebody please give a hug to this giant man who's lived a life where death is o-kay and what's worse is living and not knowing how to move on? Please??? He needs it!) I think this says more about how Sam feels about himself than about how he feels about Dean and his relationship with his brother. And I think I’m right because at the end of the episode Sam explicitly says he was jealous. Sam really should be the one regarding himself in the mirror (and it’s a fucking shame that we didn’t get something like this for Sam because god, it’d be bomb) trying to remember who he is because Dean might be losing his memories but Sam is totally lost and in the dark.

He doesn’t call Mary or Cas because ??? but he does call Rowena for help, Rowena magically teleports and immediately arrives (okay she has an agenda but she does come super quickly, let’s give her that), she agrees to help them and to all of that Sam says: “I obviously don’t trust you”. Which, to be honest, fair, Sam I approve your long-lasting distrust of everything that has to do with Crowley because you have real reasons to do so. But it’s also time for you to learn to create meaningful connections and you cannot do so if you’re not willing to trust people. (important: Rowena tries to steal the Black Grimoire in this ep, the same book that she’ll try to steal in s13. Sam will then give her the one page she needs for her spell, so, you know, way to go Sam! It takes him one whole season to trust Rowena with one only page of the book but, progress).

Okay, time to wrap this rambling up with the final scene. We have this dialogue right here and it’s so gooood:

Sam: So how you holding up after the spell?

Dean: That thing kicked my ass.

Sam: You know, I gotta be honest. I was actually, uh, a little jealous at first.

Dean: Of what? The curse that nearly killed me?

Sam: No, just, you know... some of the things we've done, we've had this weight for... forever. And seeing it gone, uh, you looked happy.

Dean: Huh. Well, look, was it nice to drop our baggage? Yeah, maybe. Hell, probably. But it wasn't just the crap that got lost. I mean, it was everything. It was us, it was what we do, you know? All of it. So... that's what being happy looks like? I think I'll pass.

Sam and Rowena were a little jealous at first. Because Dean showed them life without the weight of the things they carry, the things they’ve done. Dean looked HAPPY. We can infer that Sam and Rowena are not happy, they do feel the weight of the things they’ve done and they would like OUT. They still have a long walk ahead of them to discover who they are apart from what they do and decide what’s next, what they decide to do, who they want to be and what are the actions that can lead them there.

But Dean, Dean is almost there, people. He’s not lost at all, even though he was the one with the brain almost gone. “It was us” and “it was what we do”. The distinction for him it’s clear. And he has weighted the pros and the cons and he has decided that IF that's what happiness is, if happiness is just forgetting about the crap, forgetting about the past, he will pass. He’s not willing to pay the price for a happiness where he doesn’t have a connection with his family, where the people he cares about (and for whom he does very bad things) are not there. The price for the supposed happiness is not worth Sam, Mary and Cas.

Earlier I said that I thought it was bleak, you know, not knowing yourself apart from other people. But the last scene where Dean is riding Larry (and he’s not yet under the spell so he’s Dean-Dean there) gives a lot of unexpected hope.

The song in the background is nostalgic and, frankly sad:

“So dream on, little Broomstick Cowboy

Dream while you can

For soon, you'll be a dreadful thing

My son, you'll be a man”

But it’s appropriate. Dean has accepted that, for him, caring for the people he loves is what constitutes his happiness. He has accepted that “horrible things” have been done and maybe will be done in their names. Acceptance is key: he’s on the right path to discover new parts of himself. He doesn't want to lose "the crap" because losing it means he'll also lose the people he cares about. And without the these people, without Sam, Mary and Cas, he doesn't yet know who he is. But he wants to find out. He wants to move on. And he wants to move on with the people he loves, doing "the good and the bad", not alone, oblivious and fake-happy. It’s bittersweet as all changes are but it must be done. He’s ready to grow up, ready to be a man, ready for love, ready to start a family, guys :").

(unfortunately it'll all go to pieces when Cas dies and Mary disappears in the AU (OF COURSE Dean will lose his will to live after that, because he was still in the process of differantiating himself from others, but he was SO there ffs) so thanks for nothing s12)(s14 "Lebanon" thankfully comes back to this theme and there Dean finally says, again and out loud for the people in the back, that he's okay with the choices he's made because they resulted in this crazy-ass, totally weirdo, supernatural family and he loves it and he's good with that. PERIOD)

#spn #supernatural #spn rewatch #spn season 12 #regarding dean #dean winchester #sam winchester #rowena macleod #spn s12 #spn meta #phd in spn s12

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theseeingfawn · 3 months ago

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Summary:

The infamous Shadowsinger finally reveals himself to the new gang in town, sending shockwaves through the criminal undergrounf. Meanwhile, Elain struggles to come to terms with her growing desires. As tensions rise, Azriel and Elain embark on a charged first date, unable to resist giving in to their powerful mutual attraction.

Elain

Why is it the moment you know you can't have something that's suddenly all you can think about? Last night, after Azriel left, I spent the rest of the evening in a daze. I washed the tea set we had used so many times I ran out of soap. I decided to binge watch Peaky Blinder but had no idea what was happening. I tried to take a bath but the one thing the water couldn’t cleanse were the dirty words Azriel had said in his deep shadowy voice. Gods the way he looked at me, somehow touching me without using his hands. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking of him. His words echoing in my mind, playing on repeat. No fucking. No fucking. No fucking.

My body felt like a live wire of restless energy with no outlet. It took me hours to fall asleep. HOURS.

When I finally managed to drift off, I dreamt of him. He was doing the very thing he said he wouldn't.

Now it’s morning and I’m barely awake floating between dreamland and reality. My skin is flush, my clothes feeling too restrictive. A part of me thinks he planned it. He seems devious in that way. Like he’s playing some reverse sex mind games on me and godsdamn him it’s working.

The sound of my phone going off reminds me that I have to return to the real world. It’s Cerridwen begging to let her in the shop. In my panicked daze I throw together an outfit that doesn't make me want to die from heat exhaustion. I rush down the stairs and let her in. She whistles, “damn girl, you're looking hot.” I squint my eyes at her, “Why is it so hot in here? Is my AC broken?”

She looks at me with concern, “it's a normal temperature, what has gotten into you? Oh shit, do you have a fever?” She slaps her hand onto my forehead. “Nah, you feel fine. But maybe you are fighting something? Do you know anyone who's sick?” I nod and mutter, “Azriel.”

“What did you say?”

I don't bother responding, I just head straight into the walk-in freezer for some relief.

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

“I’m telling you, it's a crime wave.” I hear Pauline shouting all the way from the kitchen. It's the morning rush when the townsfolk come in for their coffee and pasties. My shop is the first business open on Main Street and everyone, and I mean everyone , comes here before the day gets started. That's why I am scrambling from one end of the kitchen to the other preparing and finishing up orders. Usually I work up front but I'm not feeling up to socializing, despite the three shots of espresso I've had. I'm grateful I opted for less clothing today, with the heat of the ovens and me running back and forth, I am liquid fire.

Cerridwen pops her head in looking flustered, “are you finished with those orders? I'm dying out here.” Cerridwen and her twin sister Nuala are my best friends and coworkers. They help me run the bakery. Sometimes, they even run it without me so I can take time off here and there. They’re the only people I trust to take care of my baby. So, when one of them says they need help, I know all hell has broken loose. “Let me plate these quiches and I'll be right out.” I finish up my task and carefully balance five plates on my forearms and hands. When I step out of the kitchen, I see what Cerr meant. It's standing room only and there is barely any standing room.

“I'm telling you Lucien, first Gabriel was streaking and now Lainey’s got her tits and ass out.” I nearly drop my plates. Thankfully, Cerr is there to lighten my load and help me out. Lucien has his back to me and gently pats Pauline on the arm, “Now Pauline, I told you Azriel was just running. It's not unusual for a man to take his shirt off while exercising. Besides, that is why we have the citizens watch.” Pauline huffs, “that's what I'm trying to tell you Lucien, our citizen watch has a report on Lainey.” I sit my plates down at their respective tables and walk up to Pauline.

“What the hell Pauline?” She gasps like we’re on a soap opera, “Lainey, don't you run that potty mouth around me. Look at you dressed like a harlot and cursing like a sailor, what is happening in Hewn Hills?”

Lucien looks me over, utterly bored. I glare at him until he turns his head away. “It's called a mini skirt Pauline,” I deadpan. She scoffs, “Well, Lucien, what are you going to do about it?” I cross my arms and look at him, “Yeah Lucien, what are you going to do about it?” I'm in no mood to humor the citizens watch today. I'm cranky, hot and out of fucks to give. Azriel has given me permission to be bad, and after my terrible night of sleep, I’m more than willing to embrace the dark side. Lucien sputters, “well I… you see… Look Pauline, Elain isn't dressed like a harlot. So, I don't see an issue here.” She narrows her eyes at him, “Not like a harlot? She's all sexed up!” I hear Cerr snickering in the distance. The whole bakery goes quiet and turns toward us. Lucien looks me over one more time, “I don't think there's anything sexy about it.”

Pauline guffaws, “I see what's happening here. It's like a boiled frog situation. You are so used to Elain's naked body you don't recognize when she's barely clothed.”

I feel my whole body shake with rage. Enough is enough . “Pauline, Lucien has never seen me naked. We are not in a relationship!” There is an awkward pause before Bob, the hardware store owner, says, “Didn't you two just go on a date?”

Oh for the love of… how is my every move tracked by the people in this town. Lucien just stands there silent, not saying a word. It dawns on me that his unwillingness to speak up and clarify things has hurt me just as much as the gossip. All he has to do is set the record straight, say that we aren’t dating or he hasn’t seen me naked. Or heaven forbid I’m not required to date him. That I don't belong to him like I'm some sort of broodmare, but he doesn't. He is content with the status quo because it isn’t hurting him the way it’s hurting me . That spark of confidence, or maybe rage I felt earlier returns. “Lucien and I aren't dating. I'm… I’m seeing someone else.” I'm not exaggerating when I say the shock that filled the room was like a thunder clap.

Before the town can scrape their jaws off the floor, I walk back to the kitchen and hide in the freezer. Not that I can escape the torrent of messages currently flooding my inbox.

Feyre: You're not dating Lucien? *read*

Nesta: Who is the mystery man I need to kill?! *read*

Cassian: Get it gurl! 🍑💦🍆 *read*

Rhys: Elain, Please respond to your sister. *unopened*

Hewn Hills Hussies group chat:

Nu Nu: 🍾 girls night stat

Cerr: we need the deetz

*read*

Mr. Naked: Got something you want to tell me?

Elain: I didn't name drop I swear! I just panicked.

BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ

“Well … well… well if it isn't Mrs. Naked.” I groan. He laughs. I bang my head against a 20 lb sack of flour. “It’s not funny, I panicked Azriel, I couldn't handle the whole town thinking Lucien’s seen the goods.” He hums, “yes, they are clearly concerned for you.” I let out a long suffering sigh.

I hear loud music and talking in the background, “Where are you?”

“A bar.”

I laugh nervously, “Why are you at a bar at 8 am? Why is a bar even open at 8 am?”

The echo of pool sticks clanging fills the air, “I'm at work.” What kind of job does this man have?

The image of him smiling wickedly as he said “bad things done extremely well” pops into my head. He rendered me speechless with those words, so much so that I forgot to press further. If he thinks I'm going to drop it he's delusional. I'm nosy and love a good secret. Nothing will keep me from finding out. But he doesn't need to know that. I can play the long game.

“Well, your job seems a lot cooler than mine and I'm in a freezer.”

“Why are you in the freezer if you're barely clothed, Mrs. Naked?”

I groan pathetically, “I'm not naked Azriel, I'm wearing a mini skirt and a crop top.”

“And no bra.”

I gasp. “What!?” I nervously look around. Does he have spies everywhere? Maybe he is James Bond. “How do you know that?”

I can almost hear his smug smile. “Did you know there is a town discord?” I shake my head, the horror of my reality hitting me at full force. I let out a pathetic little, “No.”

“Well there is and according to slimjim46 you're not wearing a bra. Sadly no pictures though.”

What in the hell is going on?

“Ughhh, how do you know about the town discord but I don't? And my chest is no one's business.”

“It's my job to know these things and some might say it's your boyfriend's business.” Before I can respond he asks almost tenderly, “Do you need to give them my name so you come out of the freezer?”

My stomach does a little flip. He's willing to take on the insanity that is this town for me and gods know what with his job. “That's sweet of you to offer but I need to woman up and clean up my own messes. Besides, it's more fun to leave them guessing.”

I can hear his grin through the phone, “it's also the bad thing to do.” I agree and whisper, “so bad.” I swear I hear a groan before he says, “tell me Elain, what's got you so hot and bothered?”

I roll my eyes, “who says I'm hot or bothered?”

His voice dry and straight to the point, “you're currently hiding in a freezer and your teeth aren't chattering. Seems like something or someone has gotten under your skin.” The arrogance of this man is unbelievable but my gods is it a turn on.

“Elain, I told you we can't fool around.”

I let out a very unconvincing, “pfft that's not what's going on here.”

I sense his damn smug smile again, “Good, then you are ready for our first lesson in being bad.” I swear he pauses for dramatic effect, leaving me waiting on bated breath.

“I’m busy the next few days but I can take you out on our first date on Thursday night, if that works for you?”

I pretend to think about it, “Yeah, I'm free.”

“I’ll send you instructions, and Elain be sure you’re dressed to ride.”

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

It took me several minutes to realize what he meant by ride. Hello gutter, have you met my mind the last twelve hours? He meant a ride on his motorcycle… obviously. The problem is I don’t have any cool clothes for riding a motorcycle, but I know someone who does. I spend the rest of the day dodging questions at the bakery and avoiding my growing list of unanswered text messages and voicemails with the exception of one person… Nesta.

She usually avoids me and everyone else for that matter unless she needs something. Which is why she attends Inner Circle dinners, Rhys and Feyre are bankrolling her life. I take a deep breath and text her…

Elain: Can I come over after work?

Nesta: 🙄 fine but you better tell me about your boyfriend.

I worry my lip with my teeth. There is no way I am telling her about Azriel but as long as I can get my foot in the door, I can sweet talk my way into what I want.

I change out of my skirt and throw on a pair of cut off shorts. I am still feeling overheated and decided to ride my bike over to Nesta’s place just so I can feel the wind in my hair. Her studio apartment is located in a less desirable area of Hewn Hills, which doesn’t mean much since the whole town is beautiful. What makes the area rough is the slightly overgrown lawns and the occasional abandoned vehicle. I knock on the door and wait for Nesta to answer. I hear the sound of empty cans and bottles being kicked around before the door cracks open. The light from outside reveals a sliver of one of Nesta’s cold gray eyes looking at me. She slides the chain off the rail and opens the door wider.

Her apartment is littered with empty alcohol containers. It smells of spilled beer and stale sweat. I take a steadying breath, trying to remind myself that she doesn’t want my help, no matter how many times I offer or down right beg. That doesn’t mean I don’t bring her food when I can or find excuses to bump into her. She turns away and slinks back to the ratty used couch she found near a dumpster. She plops down and covers herself in a throw blanket before she barks, “What do you want?”

I take an uneasy step inside before I say, “I came to see if I could borrow some clothes.” She eyes me suspiciously and nods her head toward the rack of clothes near the bed. I start to comb through my options when she asks curtly, “so, the boyfriend. Who is he?”

I close my eyes and brace myself for the interrogation before the fight, “No one you know.” I hear her stand from the couch and approach me, “where did you meet him?” I avoid looking at her, “I met him in Velaris, after my failed date with Lucien.” It was close to the truth, I did see Azriel after my date with Lucien. The best lies always hold some truth to them.

“Does he have a name?” I exhale sharply, “Yes, but as I said you wouldn’t know him.” My hands catch on a pair of black leather pants. They are dark and sleek, they remind me of Azriel. Not my usual style but that's why I'm here, to step out of my comfort zone. To break out of the box I've been in my whole life. Maybe I'm not the kind of girl who wears leather pants but I'll never know unless I try. I pull them off the hanger and ask Nesta if I can borrow them. She raises a sharp eyebrow at me, like she can’t quite believe what I am asking. “You want to wear those?” she says incredulously. “Yup,” is all I can manage.

She scoffs, “They're a bit sexy for you, don’t you think?”

Before I can answer, she barrels ahead, “Do you need to impress this new boyfriend? Is he not into prim flower girls?”

I cut my eyes to her, “Why do you care?”

“I don’t. It just seems rather sad that you have to pretend to be dating someone. When are you going to grow a spine and tell Lucien to fuck off?”

I sigh and take a calming breath before I reply, “Lucien knows I'm not interested and I assure you, he is not interested in me.”I hate the way she makes me feel, like I need to answer to her, that she is the arbiter of my life. I try to remind myself that she is in a vulnerable place right now. What she needs from me is patience. T his is what Nesta does, she lashes out before anyone can hurt her. And I always have to be the bigger person, the kinder sister, the one willing to bend so nothing else breaks.

I remind myself that deep down Nesta is sensitive, she loves fiercely and that’s why she behaves the way she does, she is frightened. She hasn’t been the same since our fathers death. Despite her claims she hated him, she was deeply hurt by his years of neglect. She hasn’t truly healed. I’ve learned the hard way that there is no helping Nesta unless she wants to help herself.

I settle on avoiding a confrontation that will lead nowhere, “Can I please borrow the pants? I promise to return them.”

She sighs, “Fine.”

I mutter a thank you and head for the door. “Good luck with your fake boyfriend Elain, don’t come crying to me when it blows up in your face.” I’m two steps outside her front door when a lonely tear falls down my cheek. I take the small bag of groceries from the basket on my bike and I place it on her doorstep. I pull away and wait for her to open the door and take the food before I go home.

Azriel

I end my call with Elain and look at the photo that’s now saved in a secret folder hidden among the apps of my phone. I lied, there was a picture of Elain on discord and she’s wearing a skimpy little outfit, so far from her typical attire I’m surprised she owns such a thing. I, of course, tracked down the user who posted it and got his IP address. The background check is in the works and I fully plan to ruin his life. I take one long look at the picture before I block her from my mind for the next few hours.

The email Devlon sent me yesterday included a report of a bar fight where an unregistered handgun was seized. One of the suspects was reportedly wearing a leather vest with a gang emblem associated with The Attors, a broken crown with three drops of blood. Hybern’s crew has officially made their move and now I can make mine. After I left Elain’s, I spent most of the night staking out the bar from the safe house. No gang members were spotted until this morning. One of the peculiar things I’ve noticed about this bar is that it never closes. A sign the Attors’ are up to no good. Which is why I am now sitting at the bar first thing in the morning waiting to strike. The code phrase worked at getting me inside but if the weary looks of the patrons are any indication, my presence is both noted and unwelcomed. I suppose they are not used to seeing people this early in the morning who aren’t a part of the “business.” I feel more than see a figure come to stand behind me.

“Are you new to this area, friend?” I refuse to turn and look at him, if he wants to talk he can look me in the eye. Sensing my unwillingness to bow to his display of intimidation the man steps forward and sits beside me. I note the hint of an accent and the vest he’s wearing. I fight back the smug grin threatening to reveal itself. It’s go time.

“No, but you are.” I note the barely perceptible tick of his jaw as he glares daggers at me. Clearly not used to losing the upper hand. The nervous bartender comes forward and places a wobbling glass of whiskey next to the Attor. I use this opportunity to pull my hand out and place it on the bar. The bartender stumbles back and mutters a curse. A wave of awareness sweeps through the bar. The faint whisperings of Shadowsinger sound like screams in the now quiet bar. The scars on the back of my hand have become something of a signature. A grim calling card that not only echoes my fathers cruelty by my own reputation. I can feel the confidence of the man next to me slip, suddenly unsure of the situation he now finds himself in.

“You are in my town, friend .” The throat of the Attor bobs in apprehension. “Let’s get acquainted, shall we?” I let myself smile, one I reserve for men like him and unsheath the dagger at my side.

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

It takes an hour to scrub the blood off of my body. I am barely dressed before Devlon calls and congratulates me on a job well done. My little show at Amarantha’s has already sent a shock wave through the criminal underground that the Shadwosinger is back in Windhaven. “Lucky for you that your father’s legacy hasn’t faded in all of these years.” I don't respond. The only legacy my father left is fear. The same legacy I’m leaving behind. Devlon takes my silence as an incentive to keep talking, too often silence only breeds more drabble. “The local police called to beg for our help already, you should be proud.” I snort. “The local sheriff told me that organized crime has been down over the last few decades, it’s a good thing you showed up when you did.” I grunt like a brute because that’s exactly how I feel after the little display of violence at the bar.

“Why Devlon, that almost sounds like praise.”

”Yeah well, don’t let it go to your head, your ego is already over inflated.”

I should feel proud but instead I just stare at my hands and feel shame. This is why I need to keep my relationship with Elain superficial. She can’t get close, I can’t expose her to this side of me. I tell myself I do the things I do for work to help make the world a better place. But the truth is I enjoy it. I like taking power and exerting control over someone. I like the sound of them pleading. Whether it’s because I was once weak and fragile I don’t not know. What I do know is Elain deserves better. I close my eyes. Rhys was right to be worried. To warn me away. But, I am a selfish bastard and I can’t keep away.

Elain

The next few days pass in a blur. The rumor mill about who I’m dating was in full swing and I noticed more than a few people keeping a close eye on the bakery. Feyre calls several times but I let them all go to voicemail. I’m grateful she’s too wrapped up in Velaris to give me the full weight of her attention.

I join Cerridwen and Nuala for a girls night where I tell them about my new boyfriend. I don’t give them Azriel’s name but I share what I can about him. Including the sex embargo he’s imposed. They listen intently, they don’t tease me or pressure me to reveal more information than I am comfortable with. That’s one of the things I love most about them, they meet me where I am and never demand more than I am capable of giving.

“He sounds like Jason Bourne or maybe a mafia don.” I nod, “That’s what I’ve been thinking!” Cerridwen pours a generous helping of margarita before plopping down on my couch. “Have you Googled him to see if you can find anything?” offers Nuala. “Of course I Googled him but he’s off the grid. Not even a social media profile.” They give each other knowing looks, “definitely a spy then.”

Nuala giggles, “Wait, is that why you were so flustered the other morning?” I feel my cheeks start to heat, “umm… yeah, that was after the whole no fucking talk.”

She thinks for a minute, “Maybe penis is broken?” I choke on my drink,“No, I don’t think it’s that.” They both take a minute to think it over before Cerridwen adds, “Maybe he’s afraid of intimacy, those strong brooding types always are.” That makes more sense than the broken penis thing.

Nuala gives me a devious smile, “You should test him!” I glance at her confused, “test him?” She nods and sits her glass down, “you know, see how committed he is to abstaining. If you are this hot and bothered there is no way he is unphased.”

“I don’t know he seems like the type of man who is unflappable. Besides I get the feeling he won’t like being pushed. He’s been more than kind so far, I want to respect his boundaries.”

Cerridwen rolls her eyes, “Uh huh, aren’t you supposed to be bad?” I smile at her, “baby steps.”

Nuala claps her hands excitedly, “I know what you need!” She reaches for her phone, fingers flying as she types. Nuala looks at Cerridwen. They do that creepy twin thing where they communicate without speaking and then say in unison, “vibrator.”

“I’m not sure that’s what I need.” They both wave their hands dismissively, “Come on Elain, you are dating a hot man who refuses to dick you down. And you're too nice to test him on it. How else are you going to survive?” I pause for a second and realize they have a point. Before I can answer Nu ominous replies, “it’s done.”

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

The next day, date day, I find a manilla envelope under my door. Inside is a note from Azriel addressed to me:

Elain,Meet me at the townhouse at 6 PM. Don’t deviate from the plan.

-Azriel

Inside is a map with detailed instructions on how to walk to the townhouse without being detected. There are handwritten notes in the margins explaining which position is better and why. There are timestamps and coordinates. I half expected the note to self-destruct after I finished reading it. One thing's for certain the man is thorough which begs an intriguing question of what it would be like to kiss him. Noooope I’m not letting myself go there.

I put on the leather pants and stare in the mirror. I feel a little bit like Sandy in Grease when she goes through her bad girl makeover in an attempt to win over Danny Zuko. But mostly I feel like I'm on the cusp of a fundamental shift. Like I'm finally becoming who I've always wanted to be. Someone bold, adventurous and willing to be a little dangerous. I trace the curve of my hip and a thrill shoots down my spine. I'm about to jump off a cliff leaving the old Elain behind. I'm going to embrace the side of me I've hidden away. The part of me that's clawing to be let out.

I look over at the pink package that was delivered this morning. The vibrator Nuala ordered taunts me like it knows exactly what I’m thinking. But I can’t go there, not now.

Inhaling long and hard, I focus on the plan. I’m to meet Azriel inside the townhouse garage. He claims he will orchestrate a diversion so that we can pull out of the garage on his motorcycle undetected. Listen, this is high stakes stuff. Even Jack Ryan would be sweating if he were faced with the potential of Pauline’s discovery on one of his missions. I might as well go on Instagram Live with it because everyone from here to Velaris will know that Azriel is my secret boyfriend before I even have time to ride his motorcycle.

I snake my way through trees and hedges just as Azriel instructed, clinging to the shadows. I ignore the weeds in Josie’s flower bed that need to be pulled and the whining of Bob’s hound dog begging for pets. I slink my way around corners and alleyways as I make my way to the townhouse. I spot the side door of Feyre’s garage. It’s left cracked just as he said it would be. Here’s the tricky part. I have to sneak in undetected. There is just one neighbor with a clear shot of the door. Azriel said to wait until exactly 5:55 pm. That’s when Sam, the town’s only accountant, will leave his home office for the rest of the day. I peek up to see his window is cracked and he’s on a business call. My cell says it’s now 5:56 and I start to panic. I’ve followed his instructions perfectly at this point. Should I just run for it? Do I not care if Sam see’s me sneak into my sister’s house? Before I make a decision I hear Sam end his call and the sound of his footsteps fading. I rush for the door and slam it shut behind me. A thrill runs through me, I feel dangerous, my blood pounding and my chest heaving. I’ve never felt this way before and it’s intoxicating.

Azriel

I turn to see a panting Elain pressed against the side door, her eyes pressed closed and a small smile forming on her lips. I’m far too pleased to see that she followed my instructions. “Hi,” I say, looking her over and holy gods.“Hi yourself,” she says in a flirty tone. Her long golden hair is braided and draped gently over her delicate shoulder. She’s wearing skin tight leather pants that hug her supple curves. They look so good on her, like she’s destined for the dark side. My eyes trace up her form and snag on the sheer white t-shirt that reveals a hint of the baby pink bra underneath. The sunlight from the door window lights up her heart-shaped face. I swear the sunlight hits this woman differently than other people. The golden rays sink into her skin and make her glow.

The urge to run my hands over those curves causes my fingers to twitch at my side. Desire punching me in the stomach. I can’t help it, I keep staring - and everything gets so much worse as Elain turns around to look out the window, making sure the coast is clear. My gaze sweeps over the dip of her waist to the swell of her perfect ass. My cock twitches.

As hard as it is, I remind myself to focus and pull out the amethyst gift bag I’ve stashed away. “For the ride,” my voice is more husky than I anticipated.

Her hand gently grazes mine as she takes the gift from me. A pulse of energy sends a shiver down my spine. I watch as she pulls out the black leather riding jacket I spent way too much money on. Her fingers sweep over the supple buttery material and dance over the delicate flowers embroidered down the forearms and along the collar. The pattern is a mix of bright red roses, plum colored violets, and pink begonias intricately stitched with verdant leaves. The letter E is elegantly sewn along the left lapel. It’s probably too much but it reminded me of Elain and I wanted her to have it. Even if all we get is this one ride together it's worth it.

She tugs on the jacket an asks, “How do I look?”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, “Perfect.” More than perfect . Elain walks toward me, placing her warm hand on my arm as she stands on her toes and kisses my cheek. “Thank you.” The gesture takes me by surprise and nearly unravels me. All the brooding self deprecating thoughts from earlier this week melt away with that painfully sweet gesture.

Clearing my throat, I turn my attention back to the point of our date and gesture Elain toward my motorcycle. We walk through the proper way to get on and off a bike. Noting to avoid the muffler pipe on the side that will get hot enough to burn. I explain that we’re going to ride to the base of Ramiel, a mountain in the Illyrian steppes. Her eyes sparkle with excitement as I pass her a helmet. I lean forward and gently tighten the strap under her chin. Unable to resist the opportunity to help her, to touch her, to do more.

Swinging my leg over the bike, I turn to her and pat the spot behind me. Her soft thighs press into mine and a thrill runs through me knowing how intimate riding together will be.

As we take off, I hear the explosive I put in the neighbors trash can go off, providing us with the perfect distraction to ride off and leave the world behind.

“Hold tight and don’t make a sound.”

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

I try to take in the sensations of riding but all I can think about is the feel of Elain’s soft body pressed against mine. The way her hands grip my waist. Despite all the layers of leather we still feel impossibly close. It takes awhile for my thoughts to clear long enough to feel the familiar rush of the wind as it moves past us. How the motorcycle hugs the curves of the road. I increase the speed, feeling the familiar rush of blood pounding in my ears as adrenaline takes over. I feel free. I feel alive. I hear Elain giggle in my ear. Like she can’t help the burst of joy that springs free as we fly down a steep hill. I laugh with her, unable to mask my own happiness. “Oh, I didn’t realize the helmets have mics.” Her shyness quickly fades as we round another curve. “This is amazing,” she shouts like she might burst with joy.

For the next half hour we make our way around the winding road that leads to Ramiel. I point out interesting parts of the terrain. I find myself sharing funny stories of my childhood with Rhys and Cass. It’s always easier to open up with Elain, even when I have every intention not to. When we’re not talking I relish the peaceful quiet moments. Content just to be here with her, where I don't have to share her with anyone else.

The summer evening is fading into the golden glow of dusk. Ramiel looms ahead like a great mythical beast. “There is a small bar up ahead that we can stop and eat at. It's nothing fancy but it's one of the only places in Illyria I like.” I hope she doesn’t hear the subtext of my statement. Unlike Cassian, I loathe Illyria and my past here. But she doesn't push me. As someone whose worst days constantly define her present, I think Elain sympathizes with my reluctance to share my darker memories. I try not to think about those now. Not while I'm with her. I don't want to tarnish this precious time I have with Elain for anything.

We pull up to a small building, aged and weather worn, there is a rustic sort of charm to it which is why I felt safe bringing her here. It’s not the type of spot tourists would visit but a hidden gem that only a local would love. The parking lot is gravel with a few motorcycles parked out front. The sign was faded but legible enough, ‘Siphon Station.’ We park the bike and get off. Turning to Elain. I gently unbuckle her helmet and offer her a scarred hand to help her down. I watch as she nervously messes with her braid, making sure it is suitable.

I gently place a hand on her lower back and walk us through the front door. The place is smaller than I remember, there’s the familiar bar with eight stools, a few booths on the far side and a pool table in the back. Adjacent from the pool table is a dart board on the wall. Some of my favorite memories of Illyria are from this bar, getting drunk with my brothers and emptying their pockets when I beat them at every game we played.

There are just a couple of other customers scattered around and a barman. They all stop and stare at us as we walk in and they quickly avert their eyes. I see Devon is right, my presence has already spread like wildfire . I lead us to a booth where Elain sits while I grab us something to drink. The barman pours us two whiskey shots while avoiding looking at me. Before I can pull out my wallet he mutters it’s on the house. I walk back to Elain, who is carefully taking in our surroundings. I hand her one of the glasses and sit across from her.

“Is this bar you called me from the other day?”

“No, that was a place in Windhaven.”

She nods, “What kind of work required you to be at a bar so early in the morning?” There she is. No one else dares to ask me such direct questions, especially not about my work. I like that she isn’t afraid of me, that she feels safe asking but I can’t share that part of myself with her. So, I down my drink and stare into her eyes, “the kind I can't talk about.”

I can see the urge to push me on it, to fight the rules I laid out. There is a quiet rebellion in Elain, one that tells me she doesn't like to do what she's told. Neither do I. That fact that we share that same defiant spark turns me on. I rub my hand through my hair, in an attempt to clear my head of my treacherous thoughts.

“Have you checked out the town discord yet?”

She shrugs, “I'm afraid to look, why?”

“There's a poll on who your secret boyfriend is.”

“Oh gods,” she groans and puts her head on the table. “I'm half afraid to ask but, who are the contenders?”

I pull out my phone and show her. The options are Lucien, Graysen, Mr. Naked and lastly Elain is lying. Currently the last option is winning with Lucien not far behind.

“Well, it looks like our secret is safe,” she says. Elain doesn't seem surprised by the results. She sighs heavily, “Nesta said I was making up a boyfriend too. I don't know which is worse, that they think my love life is their business or that they don't seem to know me at all.”

The barman places two plates on the table with sandwiches and pub chips. We eat quietly for a few moments before I ask, “Can I ask you something?” she nods. “Why don’t you tell them how you feel?” She looks at me confused, ”Who?” I give her a knowing look, “your sisters, the town, Lucien, you know… all of them.”

She mulls it over for a minute, “I don't want to hurt their feelings.” I shake my head, “You just walk around all day worrying about other people's feelings?”

She gives me a bewildered look, “Yeah, don't you?’

“No.” Then more teasingly I ask, “Elain, how do you get anything done?”

She gives me a small teasing smile, “It's really hard.”

I laugh. A deep belly shaking laugh. She is so funny when she’s not hiding herself away.

“What would you do if you didn’t have to worry about what everyone else thought or expected?”

She takes a deep breath, like no one has ever asked her the question before and it makes me angry and sad for her. “Well, I’ve always wanted to travel. Anywhere really but if I had to choose where to start, I would want to see the tulip fields in the Netherlands first.” I listen, completely mesmerized by the quiet passion in her voice as she explains the cultivation process and the wide variety of bulbs used. She raves about how special the flowers are because they bloom for such a short period of time.

Desperate for me I demand, “What else?”

She looks at the rose on my hand and nods to it, “I’ve always wanted a tattoo.” I lean forward, feeling more than a little pleased.

“Why haven’t you?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know. It would be too shocking. It would be out of character.”

My eyes meet hers, “It seems to me, Elain, that you are waiting for someone to give you permission to be yourself.”

She lets out a ragged breath, “That’s not true.”

I click my tongue and run the pad of my thumb across her lips, “Did you know, you press your lips together right before you lie?” She closes her eyes, as if savoring the touch. She's so beautifully responsive. It makes me want to lay her out on the pool table and see how many little gasps and moans I can draw out of her.

She says softly, a barely perceptible whisper, “I don’t know how to be anything else.”

I release her face, “that’s not true, the hiding is the act, who you are is already there.”

She looks at my hand again, I see her fingers twitch as though she’s tempted to trace the ink there. She says shyly, “I’ve always admired the tattoo on your hand.” I look at my mottled hand and a wave of affection sweeps through me at the memory.

“I actually designed this, I got it for my mother.” My heart squeezes a little. I wanted a reminder of the beauty in the world, a reminder of all the happy moments with her and I could think of no better place than my mutilated hand. My mother has always been the only person I could feel safe with, the only one who truly loves me no matter what. Before I realize it I start to speak.

“When I was a child, I rarely got to see her. I told you of how she taught me about flowers and told stories. Her favorite flower is a rose and she had these massive hedges of them in her backyard. Roses of every shade and variety. They were so beautiful. I would play there pretending in those hedges like they were part of my enchanted gardens. When it was time for my father to come and get me I would hide in those hedges. I knew he couldn’t reach in and grab me without cutting himself on the thorns. He didn’t know all the secret ways to slip in without getting scratched. I was safe there, tucked away in my mothers roses. Since then roses have reminded me of my mother, of the beauty she cultivated and the safety they provided.”

I notice her watching me closely and I know what she’s thinking. “Come on - don’t give me that look, please.”

“Am I giving you a look?”

“Yes, a heavy one.” I bite the side of my cheek, “I’m fine now, it’s in the past.” Her eyes soften as she looks at me with concern.

Her soft finger grazes over my jaw, “If I press my lips together when I lie, then you bite the inside of your cheek when you do.” I turn away from her touch, stunned by how well she can see the truth behind the carefully constructed facade I hide behind.

I turn my attention back to the topic at hand, “Let’s figure out what tattoo you should get.”

She gives me another look, like she might push me but to my relief she decides to drop it instead.

“Hmmm… I don't know, maybe a slice of pie or a piece of cake here.” She points to the delicate skin on her wrist. “Or even here.” She turns and runs a hand along her ribs and underneath her breast. I let myself imagine it for a second and I run my tongue along the front of my teeth. “You should definitely get that it would be very sexy.”

“You think I would be sexy with a tattoo?”

I snort out a quick laugh. She must be joking. “No Elain. Don’t get it twisted. I already think you’re sexy without a tattoo. So I know you would be with one.”

She shifts uncomfortably, a look of anger and maybe even disappointment on her face. Something I said struck a nerve but before I can ask she quickly adjusts her expression. She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s the smile I’ve seen her give Lucien a thousand times. Never once has it been directed at me. My hands clench and I want to demand for her to tell me what’s going on in that head of hers but she didn’t push me on my childhood and the least I can do is let this go. For now.

“Anything else?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I was a fan of Sons of Anarchy. I’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle. So, thank you.” I give her a mischievous smile, “You want to drive it?” She stares at me unsure if I’m sincere, but she nods emphatically. I stand up and reach out my hand, “then you'll have to earn it.”

I hold onto her hand and take her over to the dart board. “You'll have to beat me if you want to ride.” The tension from a moment ago is gone and is replaced with something else.

She crosses her arms over her perky chest drawing my eyes to the lace peeking through the thin fabric. “and what do you get if I lose?”

I grab a handful of darts and walk toward her, “if you lose, you'll have to get that tattoo.”

“But I've never played before.” Her doe eyes batting at me innocently. If she thinks I’m going to go easy on her because she’s beautiful shes got another thing coming. I have a reputation to uphold. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy myself though. I look her over and a plan is starting to form. If she wants me to teach her a lesson, I’ll be more than happy to. In fact, I'm going to see if my theory is correct, that she's been thinking about me as much as I've been thinking of her.

I tug her in front of the dart board and sweep my hand down her arm, appreciating the trail of goosebumps I leave behind. I place a dart between her unmarred fingers and bring her hand in front of us. She smells divine like jasmine and honey and I fight the urge to press my face into her neck.

“The trick to darts is in the wrist. Keep your elbow up at a ninety degree angle and use your wrist to propel it forward.” I let my hand skate back down to her elbow and grip her there adjusting her position.

Pressing my lips to her ear I whisper,“There you go honey, show me what you've got.”

I smile as I feel her shiver in my grasp. She’s clearly still worked up from earlier this week. I decide to be nice and step away from her so she can focus on taking her shot.

Elain sends the dart forward and it hits the far left side, narrowly missing the board.

She turns to me disappointed. Swaggering up for my turn I give her a pat on the back for effort and then easily send a dart into the red circle in the center.

“Now let’s try this again. Remember to flick your wrist like this,” I say as I take her hand into mine and move it back and forth. She bites her lip as she leans back into me. “And I keep my arm up like this, right?” My hand tightens on hers. I’m momentarily lost to the feel of her ass pressing into my cock and I imagine Cassian in the sauna to try and keep an erection from forming. Thankfully that does the trick. “Azriel?” Elain asks completely oblivious to where my mind has gone.

“Yes, just like that,” I manage to say.

She steps out of my grasp and I watch as her shoulders relax and she loses the dart and it lands directly in the middle, a perfect bullseye. Almost too perfect. She turns to me with a satisfied smirk on her face. I narrow my eyes at her, “Elain.”

Her smile drops ever so slightly, “beginner's luck?” she says innocently.

“ Elain .”

She steps toward me, “maybe, you're just that good of a teacher.”

Her eyes meet mine, a twinkle of wicked delight is dancing there.

“ Elain .” I nearly moan.

“What's the matter? Afraid you'll lose?”

I know she’s bating me. I know she’s using my competitiveness against me. I’ve been played and I’m too turned on by her devious smile to be mad. I want to taste that smile. I want to pin her against the wall and see what other little games she’s like to play. But I also want to win.

I scoff, pressing forward, nearly nose to nose with her. I lean down to press my words into the hollow of her neck, “if you learn one thing about me honey, it’s that I never lose.”

I reach down and pull the dart from her hand. I stalk toward the board, determined to get what I want. I always get what I want, one way or another.

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

When we get back to the motorcycle, Elain has a faint pout on her lips. I would have never suspected her to be a sore loser, though she's too polite to admit it. Those brown eyes meet mine and I feel a little bit guilty. Normally I wouldn’t feel bad for winning so decisively but this is Elain. I never planned on denying her a chance to drive my bike. As if I could deny her anything. We get back on the motorcycle and I explain how there is an old dirt road at the base of Ramiel where she can safely practice driving. She whispers faintly through the mic, “Thank you, Azriel” and I smile to myself.

All around us are beautiful views. We’re elevated enough to see the rolling hills below but far enough down to see the peak of Ramiel standing proudly ahead. I bring us to a stop and help Elain off the bike. Then I slide backwards and pat the space in front of me. Placing my hands on her full hips, I gently guide her down until she is seated in front of me. I’m aware of her every move as I feel her lean back into my lap. My hands graze down the sides of her arms, placing her hands on the handle bars. I describe how to use the throttle and break, all the while I let my fingers hug hers as we practice gripping.

“You think you got it?” She nods, I slide my hand down to her plump thigh and give her an encouraging pat, “‘whenever you’re ready.”

Elain gently eases the throttle forward and we start moving, tentatively at first but with encouragement she becomes more confident in her ability. Her giggles of excitement fill my ears as she drives us down the road. I let my hands snake up to the middle of her waist, my hands nearly covering the entirety of her. The thought of it thrills me. I can’t resist the urge to pull her further into me. “There you go honey, you’re doing so well.”

We near a curve and I bring my arm fully around her waist, pulling her tight, “lean into the curve with me,” enjoying the feeling of her ass pressing deeper into my lap. The route is quiet with nothing but views and the fading sun to keep us company. I focus on the road as best as I can. But I feel Elain everywhere. The sensation of her in front of me and the smell of her hair somehow getting through the face shield of my helmet. She presses her back into me and my grip on her tightens. Without realizing it, I find myself tracing circles on her lower belly. I need a space if I am going to maintain any sort of composure.

I direct Elain to pullover at a clearing up ahead. She awkwardly tries to break, failing to slow in a steady manner. I lean into her taking the handlebars to help. The change in the angle pushes her down beneath me and I swear I hear a faint whimper through the mic. She quickly takes off her helmet like she wants to avoid being heard. The last bit of the sun is falling behind the horizon. Dark blues and pinks paint the sky as the end of day nears. “Thank you for bringing me here, it’s beautiful.” Her expression is so open and trusting.

I changed my mind, the last thing I want is space. I wrap my arms around her and she leans back into my frame. “It’s one of my favorite spots in Illyria.” My head suddenly racing with how wrong it is to hold her like this, to want her when I shouldn’t. How she wouldn’t want my touch if she knew what my hands had done. Suddenly the image of the blood that coated them earlier this week flashes before me and I flinch.

She tilts her head back to look at me. My breath catches, my head suddenly quiet. I tenderly rub my knuckle across the apple of her cheek. For a moment, I think about kissing her but I remember the flare of hurt from earlier and can’t resist asking. “Elain, earlier when we talked you seemed to get upset with me. I'm sorry, if what I said bothered you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Azriel.”

“I do though - I called you sexy and you seemed upset. I think I crossed a line and I want to apologize.”

“No, oh gods,” she buries her face in her hands, “I’m so embarrassed. Let’s just forget about it.”

“I’m sorry but I can't do that. What happened Elain? Are you upset I think you’re sexy? Are you afraid it’s going to change things between us?”

“No. I’m just upset because you’re teasing me!”

“Teasing you?”

“Yes, teasing me! I was finally opening up about the things that I want and you were mocking me. I felt silly because you are you and well I’m angel Elain. I forgot who I was supposed to be and you reminded me I’m nothing like the girl who gets tattoos, wears leather pants and seduces men in bars. It was just too much, it felt like a lie.” I press my hand against her lips to silence her.

“None of that was a lie Elain. I swear to you I’m not mocking you. I certainly don’t think you’re silly. And the part where I called you sexy is true you are unbelievably sexy. You weren’t even trying and you were seducing me.” And that’s when I notice the tears welling up in those honey colored eyes. I shift my hand from her mouth to her cheek and rub the tear rolling down her face. “Elain why does that make you cry?”

She turns her gaze from mine and shakes her head desperately like she’s hoping to shake her feelings away. “Because no one has ever said that to me before.” Those eyes open again and a burst of potent feelings hit me square in the chest. “They say it about Nesta and Feyre - but never me. I’m always praised for being sweet and kind and obedient. I’m the girl next door, the innocent one. I’m never viewed like that. Just the other day when I was at the bakery Lucien,” she trails off.

“What did Lucien say?” I ask, feeling every muscle in my body go rigid.

“Pauline was demanding he do something about my outfit and he said I wasn't sexy.”

“I’ll murder him.”

“Azriel,” she reprimands me with a surprised laugh.

“I’m serious Elain. That guy doesn’t deserve to go on living for making you feel so shitty.” She laughs and I shift my hand around the back of her neck pulling her to face me completely. Not willing to let her go. “And he’s wrong about you. First, he was wrong about you being boring. You say you aren’t the type of girl that seduces men in bars but you had me eating out of the palm of your hand. Even when you think you’re doing something wrong you’re so godsdamn tempting that I wanted to lay you out and do things to you in the middle of the bar so filthy that they would have arrested us for public indecency. Second, how can you be boring when you light up every room you walk in with that perfect smile. My gods, you are drop dead gorgeous. So beautiful it’s hard to look at you and continue persuading myself that kissing you would be a mistake because of our agreement. And third, that ass.”

She gasps, “What about it?”

“Your ass is a masterpiece. Soft and curvy, it kills me. Your ass kills me Elain. And I need you to know if we weren’t just dating in the short term I would have already…” I let the sentence dangle as my eyes rake over her, implying everything I’ve dreamed of doing with Elain but not saying it out loud because I’ve already said too much as it is. In fact I think this is the longest I have talked in ages. What scares me the most is how much I enjoy talking to her. How I enjoy teasing her and coaxing out her reactions. I’m so good at playing games at seducing women. At strategically moving pieces around so that I can be seductive without having to actually give anyone a piece of myself. Without risking my feelings. But just now I was more honest than I’ve ever been in my life.

I’m not playing games with Elain - I’m practically spilling my heart out to her. When our gazes lock again, her tears are gone. Instead her cheeks are rosy and she’s pressing a smile into the back of her hand. I gently angle her face closer to mine, “do you believe me?” She nods silently. And then her gaze drops to my lips. “You were wrong about something.”

“What’s that?”

“It wouldn’t be a mistake to kiss me.”

My heart pounds inside my chest. “It wouldn’t.”

“No. In fact, I think we should kiss because I could use the practice.”

“Elain, I told you we have to keep things PG.”

She smiles at me, “Kissing is PG according to the British Board of Film Classification.”

I fight back a smile. “Besides,” she adds, “I want to change the terms of our agreement.” She shifts until she is sitting facing me on the bike. “The whole thing started with me wanting to prove I’m not boring like Lucien said. That I can be bad… but the more time I spend with you, the more I feel myself coming to life. Something I can’t quite pinpoint but I don’t want to lose either. You make me feel different. I feel free when I’m with you. I feel adventurous and… curious.” A naughty twinkle sparks in her eyes and I feel my stomach clinch. I don’t respond, I have to know where this is going.

“So, I was wondering if you’d be someone to help me practice taking risks with, doing new things, and… maybe finding out who I am now?”

“Is that really what you want Elain?” I ask, dragging my thumb across her lower lip.

“If it’s not too much to ask,” she says in a quiet whisper.

“And tonight, you want to try kissing?”

Her chest rises with a heavy breath, “I haven’t kissed anyone in a couple of years. I need to shake off the cobwebs. See if I’m any good at it.”

That stuns me.

I wrap my arms around her tugging her closer. I ask, “No one has kissed you in years Elain? How is that possible?” I’ve wanted to kiss her every second since I’ve met her.

I feel her tremble against me. “Maybe there is something wrong with me. No one ever tries. I think my reputation makes men think I don’t like this stuff.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” I push back the hair that’s fallen loose from her braid and do what I’ve been fantasizing about since the day we met and sink my hands into her thick golden hair. I tug her head back and angle her face just the way I want it. I bend down to the corner of her mouth and whisper, “Nothing’s wrong with you honey.”

“I might be bad at this,” she warns, eyes wide, watching me as I tease the edges of her lips.

“I’m prepared.” And then just as I am about to close the gap, an idea hits me and I pull away. She looks disappointed, she thinks I’ve changed my mind.

“We still can’t fuck Elain, not unless you’re ready to fall in love with me.” She looks relieved that I still plan to kiss her. Those doe eyes are heavy lidded as if she’s intoxicated, “Good idea,” she adds and I smile. It’s not clear if she agrees with me that we can’t sleep together or if she thinks it's a good idea that we should. Either way, I like the ambiguity of it. It will drive me crazy later wondering what she meant. The tension between us is cracking and I can tell she wants me to rush this and kiss her already, but the truth is, I love drawing it out. I love taking my time torturing us both. Truth be told there is no one I love torturing more than myself.

Wrong - so wrong. It has never gone this far before. But I don’t care. I need to know what the skin of her neck tastes like. What those perfect lips taste like.

I sink my face down to her throat and lay one soft kiss there at the base. Her breath catches and I move to kiss under her jaw, opening my mouth to feel the warm press of her skin along my tongue. She shivers and I smile, moving up to kiss the corner of her mouth. The moment her warm, plush lips press into mine, my world spins. Any finesse or control I feel is destroyed, and I am suddenly at her mercy.

She presses her body into mine and even though we aren’t doing more than pushing our lips together it already feels impossibly good. I force myself to keep it light even though I want nothing more than to have her bare and writhing beneath me.

I only intended for it to be a quick luxurious kiss to get her blood warm. But damn . Her lips respond to mine as she rises to wrap her hands around my neck and my body thrums. My fingers curl into her hair and along the skin of her back. She’s so damn supple and as I slant my lips against hers I can’t help the slide of tongue into her mouth.

Elain sighs the sweetest moan into my mouth as she parts her lips for me. Inviting me in to take more of her. She presses up and wraps her legs around my waist and our kiss quickly turns from chaste to devouring. I’m pulling her against me, my head swirling like I’ve had multiple rounds of whiskey. I savor every gasp and flick of her delicious tongue, every intentional press of her body into mine. And as I adjust myself back allowing her to climb even further into my lap the bike rocks unsteadily underneath us. What the hell am I doing?

I want so much more than a kiss from her, and that’s why I pull away and slowly unwrap her arms from around me. “We should stop.” I say with a shaky voice. She doesn’t protest, seemingly agreeing with my thoughts.

I rub the back of my neck. Get a grip Az it was just a kiss.

“Was that okay?” Elain asks, self-consciously, and the very question is so absurd I nearly laugh. How she can doubt how sexy she is, how she unravels every ounce of my control. With my hand still on my neck I look at her knowing she can see how utterly wrecked I am by her. “Yes, honey, that kiss was more than okay.”

Elain turns away just a fraction and smiles to herself, and then does something so innocent, so honest it tears my cynical, terrified heart in half. She rests the tips of her fingers to her lips and smiles.

As we pull into the garage later that night I have to ask, “Out of curiosity, what is your favorite flower?”

She drops her gaze to the flower on my hand and smiles. “Roses.”

#elriel #azriel x elain #elain x azriel #elriel fic #elriel fanfic

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not-a-big-slay · 9 months ago

Text

Until it doesn't hurt

kaz brekker x fem!reader

summary:betrayal leaves some wounds behind, but even more questions when you can't figured out from whom it really came from.

warnings: violence, cursing

type: fluff

part: 12/13

previous part: part 11 masterlist

a/n: please, please, PLEASEEUHH im SO SO SORRY! it has been almost a FUCKING YEAR SINCE THE LAST CHAPTER?! HELLO?! WHO TF DO I THINK I AM? i need to keep myself in line cuz this aint normal! i have been hiatus for soo long i need to pull it together. anywayy, its finished finally. its long ahh hell and im gonna be working on another part immediately so it wont be another 50 years dw. dont mind any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language and i have written one half of this in 2023, so i really dont feel like redoing it lol. i dare you if you can recognize where exactly i picked this draft up again. anyway, pleasee enjoy!!

also, sike, its not the last part hehe, there will be part 13 AND an epilogue

taglist (hi yall :'))

@chickencouncilrep

@venomsvl

@happy-nico

@twlegit

@ravenmedows

@blathena

‎

She had lost again.

That would be the third time tonight. Her change was getting thin and she predicted it would take one more game before she had to go kill someone for free again. So much for making a ton of money with this job. The girl watched her opponent spoon the coins from the table with one hand, laughing: "One more game and I'll have to dig up another grave, Y/N." Others laughed, so she wasn't the only one thinking that after all. It was logical, she really had to stop playing with grown men, they wasted away their old nights playing poker at this very table and she had other, young people things to do. It would be wise to get up and leave, no one would judge her for that. They would maybe even cheer her on, finally making a rational decision, no one ever seen that before when it came to her. Yet the thought of doing so was being blocked by a high indestructable wall, one that never goes away and will only be built higher.

If she does leave, she has to go home.

Her mother is probably fast asleep already, it is possible she could go to bed unnoticed and leave early in the morning. This option she used very little as Y/N never wanted to come back there. A year ago, after her mother left her blood soak through the wooden floor, Y/N made promise into her scars that she will never lay eyes on mother again. She successed in that for a year so far, becoming a hitman that was quite infamous in town. But her fame started growing from mockery, as she was really addicted to poker.

Her eyes gazed on Tim, the cemetary worker, the buryer as she liked to call him. He was one of the granpas at this table, but one of the peaceful people in town. He never wanted her to kill, just to help him with his work, although Y/N hated it more than the murders, she didn't like the aftermath of her work. Tim, being satisfied, started organizing the coins on the table. No, she cannot go home tonight.

"So what's it gonna be, kid?" asked the other player, Miyka. Her green eyes stared on Y/N's face, her wrinkles scrunched in excitment. Oh, how she hated all of them. The girl faked thinking about it before tossing dramatically her last money onto the table. "I bet 20." It didn't sound as good when she started that low, but it was all she had left. Intstead of the usual giggle and witty lines and jokes they threw her way before following up on her bad choices, they sighed, almost in dissapointment. It frustrated her, it seemed like they cared what she does instead of what amount of money she holds. It seemed like they cared about her. A wave of fear pushed her like a tsunami at this thought. People that cared ended up hating her, hurting her.

"What!" she snapped. Miyka looked at Lios, her brother, in concern, while Tim silently reorganized his coins. She looked around the table, frown getting deeper and frustration blooming wider. What was wrong with them. "Well, Y/N" Lios began, "We are just kinda...worried about you. That's all." Miyka took the word next- her previous question has been an obvious tease, the girl was dissapointed. "You clearly have nowhere to go, so you are spending your time here which is.... we get it, but." She sighed, trying to find the right words. "It's not good." Tim helped her and smiled at Y/N as if it would calm her. It did not in fact, she felt more and more anxious about their care, anxious situations made her angry. She wondered why she didn't kill them all instead of those free targets, she would never have to pay another debt again, because there would be no poker players left to play and her addiction would dissapear. "So that's it, huh? You ain't gonna play because you are scared I could actually win?" she said in her defense. Nonsense, she knew, but her heart was sweating and she was glad it didn't blow up yet. "We just care, Y/N, that-"

"Care?! Remind me Lios of just how many people I killed for you, then talk about caring for someone's life!" she spat as she stood up. Lios was more than content to her way of paying, she had no idea why he apparently cared when he could have another enemy at his feet if he just played one more game. Miyka tried to calm her down, touching her hand softly only for Y/N to flinch, hard. Her vision began to blur, the floor shook beneath her and sweat poured on her face. It was like the room was on fire, but she was the only one feeling it. Other people at the pub, being entertainted by the game or simply just hanging ot there, looked worried, some even disturbed by her behaviour.

What was happening to her?

She leaned on the table with her palms, the wood trying to ground her as she closed her eyes to not feel theirs. Voices of the players echoed her head as sounds in a cave and they felt distant, but still could make her more nervous with their caring attitude. They soon fell in whispers, driving her insane. Then, she caught one voice that silenced all the muttering, it was clear, quiet yet she felt as if its breath was in her ear. "Why play, when you can take a life for the exact amount of money laying on this table?"

She recognized the voice, it belong to the fourth player, Haltt. His voice was known only in the game. Hearing him say a sentence was unusual and therefore very powerful. It was deep, low, hard. It had authority and respect and it didn't need to ask for it. He had everyone's attention, he controlled the room with only his silent voice.

Y/N's eyes looked into his dark ones, she had to find them in the shadows floating around him, as if he commanded to them as well. "What are you saying?" she asked carefully, not knowing why. Haltt observed the table, his salt-and-pepper- although more salt than pepper- short beard surrounding his mouth as it counted the cash, then let out a little chuckle that brought goosebumps to everyone close to him. "920 Neredi. Being a hitman, a respectful hitman, would make this amount your pocket change." He grabbed the rest of her money she threw on the table and looked over to Tim. The buryer shook his head hesitantly, knowing what Haltt wants to do, but all it took was the man's neutral gaze for Tim to fold. Y/N watched him slowly scooping the money and anger took over. She pinned his hand to the table, not looking away from his face. She could hear people drawing breaths in fear, but she was free from all the anxiety now, she was grounded by his scary presence, she liked it even.

Haltt's head slowly turned to her direction, his eyes creating a straight path to hers, his eyebrows climbing up as he said softly: " You want this?" When she didn't respond, he stood up, took her hand off of his gently, not letting go as his freed hand reached behind his back, pulling out a gun. She observed quickly, it was an older model, it was small and only one bullet fit into it- however she knew a man like Haltt would only ever need one bullet- he then rotated her hand and placed it in her palm. He released her only when she seized it. Y/N let her hand warm the handle before looking up at Haltt again. "Then go make it." he finished his statement and sat back down in the shadows. Y/N checked the inside of the gun and she confirmed her knowledge about it.

She scoffed. "One bullet" Haltt nodded as if he answered to her statement. "That's all you need, I know your skills." his glass clincked when his rings touched it, raising it to his lips. She waited until he drank the remainings of his whiskey, having the suspision he might continue. "You kill the target, you'll get double of this." Her surprise was voiced by everyone around her, gasping and unbelievably whispering. Lios looked at Haltt, telling him he cannot do this. But Haltt only looked at her. "No one here wants you to play. You made them care, something a hitman shouldn't do." She squeezed her free hand into a fist, knowing his eyes are reading her like cards on the table. He leaned in: "Take your reputation back, make them fear you instead." he said quietly and it seemed only she heard it. He retreated back into his seat, letting her simmer in his words.

She knew people stopped perceiving her as a threat, a force to be reckon with, a fearful killer, and started to look at her as a 15 year old that sometimes threw tantrums. People smiled at her, old men laughed at her when they drank beer at the bar, as if she was their granddaughter doing silly things. Once, she was feared, but now she behaved like an old woman trapped inside a teenage body with gambling addiction and alcoholism. Everyone treated her as a kid she never was, but Haltt seemed to remember who she was 6 months ago, to trust her potential, her skills she never lost, but used them to not drown in debts, not to her job. She suddenly became so connected to him, she was hypnotized. The sound of the chatty room blurred again as she explored the gray ocean behind Haltt's eyes. He let her, grinning as he watched her back straighten and her nose breathing in deeply. Then came the question:

"Who is the target?"

Halt's smile stabbed through his cheeks as he answered.

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Inej didn't allow herself a break until she got the that exact building Y/N told her to. She was nervous to say the least. If everything goes right, Pekka Rollins will be dead. It was unbelievable to even think about. The moonlight caressed her back and the salty wind danced around her in excitment. Ketterdam is cheering for them, it will be better off without Rollins. She thought of ways how to carve his heart out, she wanted to make a heart-shaped hole, but it was too complicated making the curves, it would take too long and she didn't want him to die before she was finished. She needed something quick, but symbolic. After all, when the stadwatch will find his body, her work should be admired. Or Deln's work, she hated he will take credit for it, but it's definitely for the best.

Soon, the spider heard two sets of footsteps beneath her. She looked down carefully, confirming it's Y/N. In the dark, she couldn't much see her 'friend', but she could feel the disgust and fear Y/N had from above, suspecting he might not be an actual friend after all. Another secret of hers she wished to uncover after this is over. The way Jesper talked about this girl is riling up an interest in her. She wanted to get to know her better, her fate might not much differ from her own and she would like to hear her story, she would like to see why Kaz seemed to hate her so much. She also hoped Y/N will stay with them after this. For Jesper's sake and maybe for Nina's nerves as she looked worried about her.

As Y/N dissapeared into the alley, Inej grabbed her knife, Sankt Petyr, that she sharpened moments before. The wind picked up and she stood motionlessly at the edge of the building. She watched lightened windows in the Smeet Residence, hoping no one will think about looking outside tonight. The house reminded her of one she encountered at the southern colonies of Novyi Zem. It was in a horrible shape compared to this, but it was a haven for the citizens there, they admired it like people in Ketterdam admire The Exchange. It was luxurious given the state of the land.

Her train of thought stopped before it reached a station, because her ears picked up a subtle voice, then a laugh. The sounds got louder as they slowly approached her. Rollins must be pretty nervous of the meet-up if he talked to himself, or he was not alone. A slight panic rose in Inej's chest and she prepared to make the uninvited dissapear. If Rollins truly had some company, she would have to wait until he saw Y/N to take it out, otherwise he might see her and change his mind. If we won't do it, somebody else will brought out fire in her stomach. The girl was right, if they won't try the lovely dessert of revenge, others might eat it whole with no crumbs left. She suspected Pekka is the main character in many unfinished death threats and planned out vengeances.

The Wraith took a deep breath as her eyes closed, slowing down her rapid heartbeat filled with excitment. When she opened them, the bright windows from the residence, along with the dimmed lights on the streets aluminated two beings walking. One was definitely the leader of one of the most dangerous gangs in Ketterdam.

And so was the other one.

She silently gasped, panicking again, her heartbeat picking up. What the fuck is Kaz doing here? And why was he bent over with Rollins' hand around his neck. Even though they were right across her, Inej was oblivious to their conversation- well, monologue if she was more accurate- because she was way too busy feeling the plan fall apart. This wasn't supposed to happen, Kaz was meant to know nothing and then just cheer and celebrate once they'd be done. Why did he always took matters into his hands?.

When she came back to reality, they were almost in the alleyway. The spider quickly followed them, never taking her eyes off of Kaz's helpless form. Her hands always gently grazed any surface she incountered, her feet always landing on the tips of her toes, her moves inspiring every ballerina in Kerch, yet now her hands were sliding off roughly and she had to bent her knees to make the landing silent. Her fear of her friend manipulated her body and she almost fell over the edge when the sharp turn of the building made an appearance, luckily she awokened from the feeling and stopped herself.

She was above the meeting place now.

On her right was Y/N with the strange man. Y/N was anxiously pacing around, obviously worried as they all were, even the man next to her who stood still as a pole was taking almost unseeable shuttered breaths. When the girl faced her direction, Inej wanted to warn her of the unexpected turn of events, but she wouldn't be seen anyway. As it turned out though, she also wouldn't have the time to catch her attention in time as the target slowly showed up on her left side, Kaz still in his grasp. Up close she could see the knife he held to his neck, already cut into the flesh. The man on her right stopped breathing and tried to hide his widened eyes, Rollins smirked as he saw him, shaking his head in disbelief. But the tension really sparked up when Y/N finally saw them, her eyes instantly digging into Kaz, while his were already screaming at her. Only two words bound them all together as they appeared on every present mind.

Oh fuck.

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

Silence started perhaps being uncomfortable for Deln, yet Y/N only cared about the boy 5 meters in front of her. He wore blood, a lot of blood. His face showed bruises for every Barrel rat and every drop of blood that fell next to his feet tore a piece of her heart. But the worst thing was his expression, it was no longer hateful, nor angry. His eyes sinked into her and they washed her with almost a relief-like feeling, like he was happy to see her, or maybe upset to see her here, in a dangerous street that will be painted red by more than one person. His gaze was soft, almost pleading her to either run away or get closer to him.

He was worried.

"I told you to come alone if my memory is still serving right." Deln began the conversation, dragging both of their attention to him. He earned a chuckle from Rollins and a response as he squeezed Kaz's neck, straightening him up: "Well, I thought I might get the lovebirds back together, eh?" The knife retreated back to his pocket, revealing a red line on the boy's neck. Y/N allowed herself to let one tear roll down her cheek as an apology to him. Pekka must have kidnapped him, because there was no other explanation on why was he present. Deln was confused, he didn't know Dirtyhands as far as she knew, nor about her time with Hertzoon. "Aw, look at 'em, already pining for each other." Rollins mocked and pushed Kaz off of his hand. Y/N had a hard time keeping it together.

Deln sighed annoyingly and the hitman was glad he kept the plan on track. It was hard to admit he was actually a big help to her. "Whatever, let's talk business shall we? It's cold tonight. Don't wanna be out late." he said offered and Rollins laughed in his face again: "What, gotta read the slaves a goodnight story?" If she wasn't still in shock from Kaz, the plan would skip to the killing part very quickly. "Well, not anymore since you took 'em all away, didn't you." the slaver stated and wiped the smile off of Pekka's face quickly. Y/N had to admit he played the role she made for him perfectly and let the conversation rest in his hands, as she continued to worry silently about the bloodied boy.

The Dime Lions' leader seemed to get upset about Deln's forwardness, he probably thought he could talk his way out of it with his disturbing charm. He put his hands on his hips and shrugged. "It ain't my problem you keep 'em in a dirty warehouse. I offered them a room with a comfortable bed and good money if they were willing to smile. That ain't no crime, lad."

"I'm not interested in your architectural opinion on my slave-keeping. I am upset you stole my property." Y/N was very invested in the conversation she almost forgot her role was against Deln. Her tied hands turned him to her side by the shoulder and pierced him with her eyes. "Don't speak of them like that." she warned and he simpy scoffed her off. It wasn't much, she must admit, but it was enough to voice her stand in this matter. "HA! And what do you think you'll be after we're done here? You will be lucky if I allow you to work in my brothel." the last sentence was a warning, he could be so much cruel to her, like he was in his house. She was present finally, all worry stepped aside to make space for the anger she held and the focus she held earlier tonight sat back down on her mind.

"You won't touch her."

Ready to speak, Y/N was taken aback by his raspy voice with scary undertone. He spoke to her like that, not long ago. It was almost unreal he was defending her. As much as it brought shivers down her body, Rollins was unfazed by the threat. "You can barely stand, boy. What can you possibly do to me." he stated the obvious and continued once he looked her way again. "Besides, she really isn't worthy of your protection." He put one foot in front of the other slowly, walking over to her. She was on alert, if she had the opportunity, she wouldn't wait anymore and strangle him with her tired hands and her desire to dig his grave. He stopped few steps from her and reached into his pocket again, pulling out something else than a knife this time. "Lost this?"

A thin, almost not visible in the dark, black string was held between his fingers. The bracelet she lost. The one Kaz gave her on the last day they saw each other. She lost it in Rollins' office. Her temptation to reach for it was unseen by Y/N as her first instinct was to look at Kaz, who also drowned in the vision of the string. She broke her promise, a childish one, sure, but it destroyed her still. It always served as a reminder of her failure. How she failed to warn him and Jordie, how she wrapped his heart around her finger without knowing it and allowed Hertzoon to shatter it. The girl promised herself to not mess up this promise, at least one thing she could keep. In the end, she lost it too.

How does she deserve to live after destroying all good in her life?

"Yeah, cruel isn't she? Do you really think she cares about you, or anyone for that matter?" he talked to Kaz that was still mesmerized by the sight in Rollins' hand. Deln was silently watching the scene, the situation out of his hands now, the plan off of track. "You don't know anything about her, boy-". " You're wrong." she interrupted him. He turned to her, waiting to elaborate, the string still lifted between his fingers as if he was trying to hypnotize them. "I told him everything." Y/N continued as she silently wished with the last bit of hope he would take the bait. He didn't:

"Everything, eh?" he echoed as he turned his back on her and focused on Kaz fully. As he reached his personal space, his hand streched to him, giving him the bracelet. The boy fixated on it, swaying with the wind due to his trouble standing on the one good leg for this long. Rollins watched him closely, feeling Kaz's hand taking it almost immediately. When his coffee-like eyes reached his snake ones, Pekka uncovered Y/N's lie:

"Do you remember Ms. Hertzoon?"

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"...You what?"

"Don't you dare be offended, you manipulated her and then left us. You're as bad as I am."

That made them punch her strongly in the stomach. Funny, Rollins wanted to watch her suffer, but was too lazy to torture her himself. They were on this for 2 hours now, or she at least thought so, she couldn't tell if the ringing was only in her ears. Rollins had her sit on a chair and then asked questions. The first were stupid and simple, almost like a small talk: Did she rob him, why is she back, when did she get back, etc. She earned 5 different punches in this round. Then the latter began. They wanted to know what happened after the con trick- as he called it- which resulted in her split lip and first blood drawn. Then another small talk, remembering all their time together and then, the truth. "Where is your mother?" it began and ended in countless of other painful things she couldn't be bothered to remember.

"How." he almost whispered, it was so dramatic that Y/N would laugh if she wasn't wheezing with every breath. "Oh, please. Like you care." she fully expected the hit for that one, though it still hurt like hell. "How!" he ordered her and watched her grow a grin with her painted-red mouth. She could still feel the little gun in her little hand, standing at the foot of her mother's bed. She watched her sleep for a moment before she truly aimed. Haltt was right, it did get back her reputation. He gave her the money and she counted every single coin to make sure it really was doubled. Fortunately, he was an honest man.

"One bullet was all it took."

To say she regretted it would be a lie, the biggest one in history maybe. She second-guessed it on her way home, sure, but she more doubted Haltt's promise than her actions. However, once she really saw her mother's chest rise and fall, nothing was easier than to pull the trigger. If she was a monster in her eyes, she would become one in her memory.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!" was the last thing she heard from him, then her ears were filled with ringing and also pain when her nerves couldn't take it anymore. Everything went dark after a while, she was sure she couldn't breath and her eyes zipped themselves tightly, but even though she lost consciousness, she was sure she never stopped smiling while it lasted.

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He always suspected some part of her story was left out, it would be unwise to tell him everything and she was not stupid. While Kaz did predict that something happened with the mother, he didn't expect this. He answered her eyes as they asked for connection and tried to assure them of his unchanged opinion. So what? He also done horrible things, they all have, especially Rollins. Such a hypocrite, that man. When he finished re-telling the story of Y/N's torture, he retreated from the boy's space, fortunately for him, because Kaz would have no hesitation in twisting Pekka's neck. Everything was silent for a while, the wind whispered cold around them as they all studied each other. Kaz looked at the building's roof next to them, seeing only darkness, but feeling her presence. He hoped that whatever Y/N planned to do with Inej would be useful. And what did he know, maybe this situation is going extremely well for them.

"Well, that is truly shocking, but unfortunetely, Y/N's dead mom won't solve this conflict. So let's solve it ourselves, shall we?" The slaver spoke and grabbed the girl next to him by the bicep, dragging her with him closer to Rollins. Kaz took a small, unnecessary step forward as a move to help her. Seeing Deln's hand on her made the water rise around him, he could feel her discomfort and felt it himself. They stopped and he threw the girl in front of him lightly, so she wouldn't fall, but aggressively enough, so she would sway. "Pay me for the slaves and she's yours, as promised." the boy's fist turned white at that, wishing he could hang Deln's organs at the lamppost. "Hmmm" groaned Rollins in thinking. "How much do ya want?"

"3000 kruge."

"Pardon?"

Deln rolled his eyes. "It was 100 slaves you stole from me, every slave is expensive and believe me, I'm giving you a discount right now." Rollins nodded at his explanation. At this point, Kaz thought about getting out of there. He was being ignored and would be forgotten in a while. Rollins couldn't see him, Deln could, but he doubted he would care. However, she could too, and his heart radiated an unfamiliar feeling at the thought of dissapearing without Y/N. If this situation happened with anyone else, he'd be already at the Slat, drinking shots and drowning in silence of his room. Dirtyhands planned the escape, Kaz refused to go through with it. He refused to leave her. "Alright, alright. How about this." Rollins spoke his thoughts. "I'll give you half of what they make me from now on and if you ever wander in the Sweet Shop, you won't have to pay." Deln was silent, but he was clearly concidering it.

"Huh? Sounds good?" Smiling Pekka streched out his hand and waited for a handshake. Every set of eyes watched Deln's movement, from his step closer, closer to Rollins, closer to Y/N, until he squeezed Pekka's hand, reflecting his expression. "That's a deal, then." said the robber. "Deal." said the slaver. Kaz didn't know what that meant and from the girl's face, he could tell the confusion was shared. Although, he truly realized this wasn't part of their plan after Deln quickly reached for Y/N's belt with the same hand that just closed a deal, pulling out a small gun, one that could barely fit a bullet, and aiming it at the hitman. She was frightened, taking steps back, but she didn't got very far when Deln grabbed her by the collar, holding her close to his body.

"Like mother like daughter."

He was instantly on the move, as fast as he could, trying to prevent what was about to happen. The bullet was faster though. Before hearing the gunshot, they heard Deln's scream. Y/N felt to the ground and Kaz was at her side immediately. His eyes panicking, trying to find the wound while his heart sounded the alarms and awakened fear. Not like this. He couldn't lose her like this. He soon found the gunshot and without thinking threw his hands to press it down. They never made contact with it, Rollins' knife already found its way back to his neck, pulling him away from her. "You didn't think I forgot about you, did ya?" he laughed in his ear before Kaz threw his head back, hitting him in the nose. The grip got loose and he turned around, sending his anger and frustration in his fist. Rollins tumbled and he kicked him on the ground, getting him closer to the place he belongs.

Deln moaned in pain and the boy finally saw the reason. Below his bent over form, a puddle of blood formed and in it swam his thumb, right above Sankt Petyr. The corners of his mouth lifted a bit, he couldn't remember how did he survive all this time without Inej watching over him and the crows, it made him grateful she is back for now. His eyes were set to find Y/N again, but he only saw a red trace from where she laid. She must've gotten away. Good girl.

He couldn't follow her steps, because Rollins already got up from the cobblestones, ready to strike. He breathed heavily, supporting the place Kaz kicked him in with his hand. He couldn't understand why Rollins always came back into his life. He tried to avoid him all his time in Ketterdam, yet life always brought them together. Or death, he wasn't sure, maybe they were destined to destroy each other. Pekka Rollins was like a mosquito bite: itching to be noticed and when Kaz does so, he feels a brief satisfaction before the itch comes back and is worse than before. He was also as annoying. It needed to be finished right here and tonight

The boy braced himself and waited on the mosquito's move, straightening himself. Little did he know, the shadow from above already closed in on the man. Kaz watched as she kicked his knee from the back and caught his hair, stopping him from falling fully on the ground again. Sankta Lizabeta could be soon visible above his heart, the tip waiting to be pushed in. Only then, Dirtyhands quietly sighed in relief.

"He still can't do it without ya, huh? Tell me boy, when will you start being a man and do things on your own?" Rollins mocked them as he recognized the face, which currently held the future of his heartbeat. Kaz limped slowly closer, feeling Inej's eyes on him. He lowered his head once he entered Pekka's personal space dangerously deep. "When my brother will get his revenge in hell."

As soon as the menacing words reached Rollins, his lips twitched up at the sight of Sankta Lizabeta slowly painting an imaginery outline of the man's heart, being applauded by his blood-curling scream. Inej wasn't the one for torture, but he could see the bit of joy in her eyes and the relief on her face. She deserved to be the one that would free Ketterdam from this parasite and he let her have it, already searching for the bloody trail Y/N left behind.

His eyes alerted him when they caught it and he began to follow the path, slowly, limping as Deln's whines cheered him on.

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The stars were with her, sometimes changing their position or widening in her eyes as they waited to claim her. Salty waterdrops tapped her tired legs, reminding her of where she sat. She imagined death many times, it wasn't unusual for someone in her profession. She remembered Tim talking about the peace that comes with it, saying it is kind, so it would be easier for the soul to leave the body. For her, it was obvious. Everything would be kinder than life. However, nothing could prepare her for the last moments. Y/N realized that no matter how much you imagine it, it will always surprise you. The knowing that this is the last time she is going to exist in wasn't something her brain could comprehend. Maybe that was the mystery death held, that was the fuel for the fear in others, not understanding until it was too late.

Wind played softly with her hair while it kissed the bruises of her now untied hands, and she tried hard to feel everything at the same time. The clothes touching her skin, the numbness in her feet, her shaky breath as it entered and left her system, but mostly, she tried to memorize the pain in her stomache and the bullet inside her body. It was an intense feeling, so she wanted to feel it as much as possible, before it would fade and with it her heart.

The hitman got hit.

This is how her victims probably felt. She brought this feeling to numerous lives. Her mother felt this way too. Y/N couldn't decide if dying felt good or disgusting, but she could be certain it was lonely. Even if people surrounded her, it wouldn't be better. It was an experience for her soul, no one from the outside could empathize.

She wondered where her grave would lay as the slow footsteps got closer. Y/N heard him limp next to her and it seemed like the stars noticed him too, because they stopped moving once he sat down, as though they only wanted to be seen by her. He was visibly tired, still bleeding from his neck.

Maybe he was feeling the final presence too.

Maybe her starts would take them both.

Silence and the waves crashing made the space between them comfortable, maybe too comfortable for her liking. His breath was disrupting hers as it naturally tried to match the rhythm. The moment became so peaceful, she almost forgot about their history. It felt like nothing happened between them, they were just kids, sitting by the port, watching stars and listening to the ocean. They weren't Dirtyhands and Saskia. They weren't the Bastard of the Barell and Snowflake.

They were Y/N and Kaz. As they were always meant to be.

"Do you believe in faith?"

It felt like yesterday since he asked her that question. Every shared memory of them felt so close to her now, as if time was all messed up. Maybe death was already doing its job. Kaz was taking his time with the answer, breathing heavily, as if the air had to fill his words first before she could hear them.

"Yes...I do."

He exhaled, his low empty voice responding. Her lips lifted into a messy smile, her muscles were losing their power all over her body, but that didn't stop her from reaching into her coat and pulling out a folded, bloodied paper that her fingers swiftly grabbed from her slaver's back pocket before he could shoot her. It was almost bizzare, how a small, easily rippable piece made her revisit the demons of the past. She wondered if Deln wanted this all along. Maybe he wanted Rollins to kill her, so he could make his deal with him. Or maybe it was just faith, wanting to see how far she would go for a false sense of freedom.

"It doesn't mean anything." Y/N stated as she felt Kaz looking at the release paper. "I just needed proof that I'm not under anyone's influence anymore, but..." her eyes followed the ongoing waves. They looked like on a leash, as if someone released them, so they could explode onto the harbor's walls, only to pull them back again shortly after, reminding them they were still being controlled. It seemed torturous, humiliating. It looked like her. "...I will never be free of him."

Y/N couldn't look at the boy, even if his burning gaze could only be extinguished by an eye contact. He was right, she was a monster. She could see it now and she wouldn't hide from this fact. She would accept herself before her heart would stop singing. It was the least she could do with the very limited time, coming to terms with her own self.

The stars started moving again slowly as Kaz spoke: "He can't control you anymore..." His tone showed certainty. Inej had to claim her souvenir of revenge by now, but he still managed to squeeze out a scoff from the hitman. She couldn't believe he allowed himself to be so naïve. Rainbow won't repair the damage done by storm, same as killing Pekka Rollins won't erase his actions and the following conciquences. His influence made her do things beyond his leadership. It scarred her for life, and those scars bled onto others without the possibility to heal. She bled on him too. She killed his brother for fuck's sake.

"The things he caused precedes him." Y/N finally looked at Kaz, his eyes seemed to be glowing in her hallucinating mind. "I can't be changed." She whispered, knowing he would hear every single letter. The moon illuminated him perfectly. His features casted a soft look under its light and Y/N was glad this would be the appearence of him she would take to her grave. She was happy to become one of the stars that would continue to shine on him.

Suddenly, death seemed very pretty.

The girl saw his hand on hers before she could feel it. It was weirdly warm, even though he barely touched her. His eyes demanded her ears' attention as he spoke, slowly, so she could feel the words. "You don't need to be changed."

Her mind was confused. How could he even speak such things?

"I am a killer." she reminded him.

"Not by choice." he argued.

"I killed my own mother and enjoyed it." she was restless in making him hate her.

"Your mother's conciquences of her own actions." he dodged her attempt.

"I killed your brother." was when she knew she would win. It wasn't excusable. Nothing could possibly erase this from Kaz's mind, no apology was enough, she was certain. That was the reason she couldn't understand why Kaz's hand began to hold hers more tightly as his eyes studied the wound in her stomache, covered by her arm that desperately tried to prevent the blood from pouring out, but it became more and more hopeless. "You're dying and not doing anything about it." he aknowleged. Y/N smiled briefly, from pain and also from his slow understanding of her plan.

"I deserve it." she spoke weakly, every word felt heavy on her tongue and she was about to give in to their weight. He only observed her, as her body was slowly losing the ability to move, as her energy was being sipped by the waves below. It suddenly felt a bit scary for her, she was in the process of dying and it strangely ignited the last bit of her will to live.

Kaz did nothing, he only asked: "Why?" She looked at him, her eyes shooting fear. She guessed she would engage with every emotion before turning off. Maybe the nature granted this privilege to every person, so they would get to have the proper goodbye to their body.

"I never done anything good, I only brought pain." her lips responded, making Kaz nod slowly. Y/N gasped softly as the fear intensified. This feeling was unlike any before, like her life was slowly slipping through her body, through the wound. Her arm pressed tightly, as much as she could to slow down the inevitable, but it was too late. "Maybe it's time to change that." Kaz spoke. She wouldn't be able to change her ways if she died, the only thing she would remember about this life was how she made it difficult for everyone else.

Y/N sighed, death was almost touching her, heart was losing its music. She no longer felt the waterdrops on her legs and the stars dimmed their light. "It's too late."

The port beneath her began to sway, as if it would tip over to the ocean anytime. She gripped the concrete edge, slipping her hand from Kaz's to do so, trying to stop it from moving, only for it to sway more. She picked her eyes up at the sky, seeing only her five stars in the black treacle sky, as her body pushed closer to the waves.

Death awaited her.

Like those waves, Y/N was suddenly pulled back by someone's hands, feeling her body lift up from the port, supported in the air. Her form bounced with every other step and another warm breath kept mixing with hers. She imagined those arms were of an angel, bringing her to heaven. Or a devil, bringing her to hell. She gave into its touch nonetheless.

"I know you're not very good at keeping them, but would you promise me one last thing?" a voice asked her, a low and a tired one. One that could only belong to an angel the way it kept her dying heart beating. The girl could only hum, agreeing to the angel's request. The voice sounded serious, threatening almost, but she could hear the worry hidden behind it, as it spoke.

"Don't make me lose you."

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Nina whined, having trouble with breathing as her hands shook from the need to be put down. She saved the Dregs numerous times from a certain death, yet Y/N exceeded her expectations. The heartender tried her very best to wake her heart up, while Jesper and Wylan panicked to pull out the bullet and seize the wound, so no more blood would be lost. What wasn't helpful, though, was Brekker, constantly yelling at them for trying harder. She understood that his anger was powered by the fear for that girl, but that didn't put out the urge to fill his face with more wounds, maybe a broken nose even.

"I swear, Nina. If she dies.." he exclaimed again, not helping the situation in any way.

"It will be on you!" Nina barked at him, frustration clearly visible not only on her tone, but her tired features. Her eyes shot to Jesper and Wylan an apologizing look as she saw their hands bloodied and faces worried. The door swinged open behind her, revealing Inej. Nina felt relief wash over her as she saw her. Kaz would maybe stop being such an asshole in her presence.

"Is she breathing?" Inej asked and immediately moved to Y/N's lying form, putting her cheek above her nose. "Barely." Wylan answered stressfully. Kaz's worry shifted to fear, Nina could sense that, even when her full focus was on the hitman's weak heart. She was barely alive, but the heartender was still surprised it could beat. She was strong and Nina hoped she would continue to fight.

Jesper gasped heavily and looked at her. "The wound's sealed!" he sounded so hopeful and it brought Nina some strenght to see him like this. She had to take quick breaths before tightening her hands in the air one more time, fastening Y/N's heartbeat. Fortunetely, it worked. "She's breathing again!" Inej said with a small smile, causing Kaz to limp closer to see for himself. His own wounds weren't yet treated, but Nina didn't even try to convince him. He had trouble looking after himself when one of them was hurt, she could imagine how much worse it was in this case, where his heartbeat's fire was on the brink of death.

She could feel the heartbeat pick up to a slow pace. It wasn't yet normal, but at least she didn't have to control it now. Nina put her hands down and fell down on an armchair beside her. Everyone in the room fell victims to exhaustion, Nina closed her eyes for a moment, just focusing on her breathing. Wylan was the first to stand up and slowly make his way out of the room with the words she'll be alright, Nina, you did a great job. Jesper followed, squeezing Nina's shoulder and nodding shortly at Kaz, before the door closed after him too.

"You either let me treat your wounds or you will go and get some sleep." she offered to the man, her eyes fixated on Y/N. She was glad he, at least, wrapped his neck in a bandage during this hard time, but he had other quite serious wounds she had to treat sooner or later. Kaz allowed himself to be predictable as he stared at the hitman and then slowly limped out of the room. Before he did though, he surprised her after all.

"Thank you."

Nina's head snapped his way and watched him leave, she didn't expect that. Inej sat next to her on the armrest, following her eyes to the laying girl. "You should rest as well, I know how tired you are." the heartender studied her features with a caring look. Her friend fought the sleep well so far, which she hated to see. "I'm not leaving you alone." the spider said with a decisive eyes connecting with hers. She knew the heartender couldn't sleep herself, as she had to look out for Y/N's heart. Nina flashed a defeated smile. She was grateful for her presence, she missed her a lot, but it would ease her mind if she went to sleep. However, knowing her stubborn mind, she scooted over to the very side, creating a tiny space for Inej to sit, which her friend accepted with a smile.

"Alright then. Tell me how you killed Rollins and DON'T spare any details."

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