#the longer i am in this house the more i feel like a small beetle

[thetangibleghost]

bitch

[lucky-clover-gazette]

prince's gambit highlights & annotations

chapter 17

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

If Damen was rougher than he needed to be, it was because he didn’t approve of this plan. Hearing it described, he’d felt as though his body was under a weight, a hard pressure. Now he released Enguerran in the tent and watched him get to his feet without helping him. Enguerran had a wound in his side that still leaked blood. Laurent, entering the tent, pulled off his helm, and Damen saw what Enguerran saw: a golden prince with his armour covered in blood, his hair sweat-dampened, his eyes unsparing. The wound in Enguerran’s side had come from Laurent’s blade; the blood on Laurent’s armour was Enguerran’s.

lamen back at it with the strategic improv. we love to see it

He wanted no part of what was about to unfold.

support your boyfriend’s tactical theatrics, damen. let laurent get a little silly with it

‘I see. So you need me to get inside Ravenel. That is the real reason I am alive. You expect me to betray the people I have served for ten years.’ ‘To get inside Ravenel? My dear Enguerran, I’m afraid you are quite mistaken.’ Laurent’s gaze travelled over Enguerran again, his blue eyes cold. ‘I don’t need you,’ said Laurent. ‘I just need your clothes.’

i love the little moments where laurent explains his plan with like. total seriousness. but the plan itself is something that would happen in a dungeons and dragons game or animated film.

Damen was repelled by the disguise. He had argued against it. The deception was wrong, the pretence of friendship.

going crazy with that nice vs. good theme lately damen. i wonder if there’s some other reason you’re particularly opposed to the idea of disguising oneself and poisoning a friendship with deception at the moment

The brazen audacity of this was characteristic of Laurent, though dressing up his entire troop was on a different scale to walking into a small town inn with a sapphire in his ear, batting his lashes. It was one thing to disguise yourself, another to force your whole army to do it.

As the heavy latticed iron beetled above their heads, Damen found himself wanting it, wanting disruption, a cry of outrage, or of challenge, wanting it as a release to this—feeling. Traitor. Stop. But none came. Of course it didn’t. Of course the men of Ravenel welcomed them, believing them to be friends. Of course they trusted in the face of a deception, leaving themselves wide open.

this is sooooo mean (and clever) of pacat, given the interpersonal stuff between damen and laurent rn

Barrels were upended into a courtyard fountain, so that men could scoop wine out as they pleased.

love this detail

He dispatched men to take Touars’s nine-year-old son Thevenin and hold him under house arrest. Laurent was developing quite a collection of sons.

well someone has to be nice to children in this fucked up world

Then Laurent turned and saw him, and the pressure in his chest grew like pain as Laurent greeted him, half-stripped and bright-eyed. ‘How do you like my fort?’

laurent is especially fascinating as things really heat up between him and damen. it’s part cognitive dissonance, but also… i think damen has changed his mind. i don’t think laurent hates damen anymore. i think everything that seems to have developed between them, actually has developed both ways. even if laurent goes back on it later, and says mean things, damen has at this point completely changed laurent’s initial perception of him. damen is damen, who laurent knows and trusts, and not damianos. that’s where the cognitive dissonance comes in—not in any kind of false impression of damen himself. it’s, again, sad in a different way to read with the context i have. because laurent is being true here, despite the lie, and i just wish they could come by this with total honestly. but that would never have been possible for them, with their history. and the auguste thing will have to be reckoned with, eventually. laurent just has it on ice for now.

All right,’ said Laurent. ‘You see? I’m learning to take your advice.’ He spoke with an unselfconscious little smile that was wholly new.

i don’t think laurent is enjoying damen’s turmoil. i don’t even think he notices it. while he definitely respects damen, laurent still doesn’t expect him to stay past the point of his given freedom. and that’s why he flirts, and is friendly, and fucks him, despite the auguste thing. because it all ends tomorrow anyway, by damen’s choice. so laurent might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

of course, laurent underestimates damen’s devotion, as usual. even when he has sex with damen, i’m sure laurent thinks damen is counting it as just another conquest that he’ll forget about the day after. so it doesn’t matter, and it doesn’t have to matter—which good, because if it did matter to damen, it would matter SO MUCH to laurent as well. and laurent knows that his brother’s killer can’t matter to him, because that would be insane. so it’s good that damen just sees him as 1) partaking in an agreement that he (damen) will leave as soon as he’s freed and 2) a piece of ass. yep. that’s definitely it, laurent. good job.

He said, ‘What will you do next?’ ‘Bathe,’ answered Laurent, in a tone that said he knew perfectly well what Damen had meant, ‘and change into something that’s not made of metal. You should do the same. I had the servants lay out some clothing for you that befits your new station. Very Veretian, you’ll hate it. I have something else for you as well.’ He turned back in time to see Laurent move briefly to pick up a half-circle of metal from a small table by the wall. It felt like the slow push of a spear into his body, the awful unfolding inevitability of it, in front of servants, in this small, intimate room. ‘I didn’t have time to give this to you before the battle,’ said Laurent.

ohhh laurent’s going full delusional here, riding the high of his previous act. but this isn’t an act, not really. but it has to be an act, for laurent to be okay with it. just how laurent performed cruelty in book 1 with hate in his heart, he’s performing affection here with love in his heart. but it can’t be true—it can’t NOT be in some ways a performance, and laurent has made sure of that by keeping the lie going for this long. this man is in a heaven/hell of his own design. it’s honestly impressive how deeply he manages to complicate things for himself. he made his own bed and now he’s getting fucked in it

The last thing he heard was Laurent saying, ‘See to my Captain. Tonight he is to have anything that he asks for.’

HELL yeah he is

‘We are lucky the Prince’s messenger got through with his signet ring,’ Damen acknowledged. ‘What messenger?’ said Torveld.

lmaooo i think the messenger was about loyse’s whole reveal? like VERY long game?

‘I’m a Captain through your help. I owe you a great deal.’ Shyly, after a pause: ‘I told you that I would repay you. You did so much to help me in the palace. And . . .’ Erasmus hesitated, looking over at Torveld. When Torveld nodded that he should speak, he lifted his chin, uncharacteristically. ‘And I didn’t like the Regent. He burnt my leg.’ Torveld gave him a proud look, and Erasmus flushed and made obeisance again with perfect form.

eugh i haaaaaate the way the akielion slaves talk. it’s especially jarring after not having to see them for like an entire book. i know it’s supposed to be off-putting though so job well done i guess

Damen repressed another instinct to tell him to stand up.

buddy you're so close don't repress it!

He looked at Erasmus, the demure limbs and the lowered lashes. He had bedded slaves like this, as pliant in bed as they were out of it. He remembered enjoying it, but the memory was distant, as though it belonged to someone else. Erasmus was pretty, he could see that. Erasmus, he recalled, had been trained for him. He would be obedient to every order, intuit every whim, willingly. Damen turned his eyes to Laurent. A picture of cool, difficult distance confronted him. Laurent sat in brief conversation, wrist balanced on the edge of the great table, fingertips resting on the base of a goblet. From the severe, straight-backed posture to the impersonal grace of his cupped yellow head; from his detached blue eyes to the arrogance of his cheekbones, Laurent was complicated and contradictory, and Damen could look nowhere else.

LET'S GOOOOOO

As though responding to some instinct, Laurent looked up and met Damen’s eyes, and in the next moment Laurent was rising and making his way over.

‘It can wait. You just won me a fort,’ said Laurent. ‘Let me spoil you a little.’

yeah he’s just going all out he knows it’s over tomorrow nothing matters

‘That wasn’t a play against my uncle. That was a play against Nicaise. Boys are easy. At thirteen,’ said Laurent, ‘you could have led me around by the nose.’ ‘I can’t believe you were ever easy.’

an untraumatized 13 year old laurent would have been soooooo fucking weird around damen

‘Torveld tells me that in Akielos, it’s the slave who feeds the master.’ ‘That’s right.’ ‘Then you can’t have any objection,’ said Laurent, picking up the morsel, and lifting it.

laurent i think you forgot who’s the sl—you know what it’s fine they’re roleplaying again

He took a second bite. He didn’t look at the food, he looked at Laurent, at the way he held himself, always so controlled, so that all of his reactions were subtle, his blue eyes difficult to read, but not cold. He could see that Laurent was pleased, that he was enjoying the acquiescence for its rarity, its exclusivity. It felt like he was on the edge of understanding, as though Laurent was coming into view for the first time.

laurent really just said “fuck it i’ve got one night left time to be a freak about it”

Damen’s attention was on Laurent’s ivory and gold colouring, the overfine skin, the last traces of bruising from where he’d been tied up and hit. Damen’s gaze travelled, inch by inch, taking in the proud lift of his chin, the uncooperative eyes, the arch of his cheekbone, and dropping back down to his mouth. His sweet, vicious mouth.

Everything would be simple in the morning.

definitely

‘I thought you helped them out of compassion.’ ‘No, you didn’t,’ said Laurent.

He’d never stood against his father for anything. He’d never needed to, so closely had their values aligned.

damen please keep pulling at this thread and think about why that might be

‘I never questioned the way my father saw the world. It was enough for me to be the kind of son he was proud of. I could never bring shame to his memory, but for the first time I realise I don’t want to be . . .’ His kind of King.

YESSS GOOD JOB DAMEN

Father, I can beat him, he’d said, and he’d ridden out and returned to a hero’s welcome, to have his armour stripped by servants, to have his father greet him with pride. He remembered that night, all those nights, the galvanising power of his father’s expansionist victories, the approbation, as success flowed from success. He had not thought about the way it had played out on the other side of the field. When this game began, I was younger. ‘I’m sorry,’ said Damen.

the apology for auguste… ohhhhh my god. damen you’re having a character development!!!! you’re questioning things!!!!

Laurent gave him a strange look. ‘Why would you apologise to me?’

okay shut up let him have this you know why

He said, ‘I didn’t understand what being King meant to you.’ ‘What’s that?’ ‘An end to fighting.’

:)

‘I wish it could have been different between us, I wish I could have behaved to you with more honour. I want you to know that you will have a friend across the border, whatever happens tomorrow, whatever happens to both of us.’

damen you behaved with an insane amount of honor. and don’t make promises you can’t keep

‘Friends,’ said Laurent. ‘Is that what we are?’ Laurent’s voice was tightly knotted, as though the answer was obvious; as though it was as obvious as what was happening between them, the air disappearing, mote by mote.

Damen said, with helpless honesty, ‘Laurent, I am your slave.’ The words laid him open, truth exposed in the space between them. He wanted to prove it, as though, inarticulate, he could make up for what divided them.

my reading of this line is that damen is admitting his metaphorical devotion to laurent. like forget the cuffs or whatever, he’s just helplessly down bad. not suuuure if that’s the point of the line, though. the last line also implies that he wants to be with laurent as if they're equals, despite the power imbalance, soooo badly that he doesn't even care about the power imbalance

The touch he offered was accepted as it had not been last time, fingers gentle on Laurent’s jaw, thumb passing over his cheekbone, soft. Laurent’s controlled body was hard with tension, his rapid pulse urgent for flight, but he closed his eyes in the last seconds before it happened. Damen’s palm slid over Laurent’s warm nape; slowly, very slowly, making his height an offering, not a threat, Damen leaned in and kissed Laurent on the mouth. The kiss was barely a suggestion of itself, with no yielding of the rigidity in Laurent, but the first kiss became a second, after a fraction of parting in which Damen felt the flicker of Laurent’s shallow breathing against his own lips.

all the little details of laurent’s reactions continue to really touch me. for reasons previously mentioned. the contrast of words like “gentle” and soft” with “tension” and “rigidity” is very good

It felt, in all the lies between them, as if this was the only true thing. It didn’t matter that he was leaving tomorrow. He felt remade with the desire to give Laurent this: to give him all he would allow, and to ask for nothing, this careful threshold something to be savoured because it was all Laurent would let himself have.

a kingdom or this babyyyyyyyyy

do you think laurent is thinking something similar? it seems like he’s been thinking that all evening. this is the only true thing, and damen may be leaving tomorrow, but it isn’t tomorrow yet

They broke apart at the voice, the burst of sound, of nearby footsteps. A head was cresting the stone steps. Damen took a step backwards, his stomach twisting. It was Jord.

is this a lamen hr complaint? they did go somewhere private, it’s more of a jord hr complaint, like he’s at fault here. i won’t count it.

[aristotlemcdonald]

Forfeiting My Mystique

It is pretty to be sweet and full of pardon like a flower perfuming the hands that shred it, but all piety leads to a single point: the same paradise where dead lab rats go. If you live small you’ll be resurrected with the small, a whole planet of minor gods simpering in the weeds. I don’t know anyone who would kill anyone for me. As boys my brother and I would play love, me drawing stars on the soles of his feet, him tickling my back. Then we’d play harm, him cataloging my sins to the air, me throwing him into furniture. The algorithms for living have always been delicious and hollow, like a beetle husk in a spider’s paw. Hafez said fear is the cheapest room in a house, that we ought to live in better conditions. I would happily trade all my knowing for plusher carpet, higher ceilings. Some nights I force my brain to dream me Persian by listening to old home movies as I fall asleep. In the mornings I open my eyes and spoil the séance. Am I forfeiting my mystique? All bodies become sicker bodies. This is a kind of object permanence, a curse bent around our scalps resembling grace only at the tattered edges. It’s so unsettling to feel anything but good. I wish I was only as cruel as the first time I noticed I was cruel, waving my tiny shadow over a pond to scare the copper minnows. Rockabye, now I lay me down, et cetera. The world is what accumulates —  the mouth full of meat, the earth full of meat. My grandfather taught his parrot the ninety-nine holy names of God. Al-Muzil: The Humiliator. Al-Waarith: The Heir. Once, after my grandfather had been dead for a year, I woke from a dream (I was a sultan guzzling flies from a crystal boot) with his walking cane deep in my mouth. I kept sucking until I fell back asleep. There are only two bones in the throat, and that’s if you count the clavicle. This seems unsafe, overdelicate, like I ought to ask for a third. As if anyone living would offer. Corporeal friends are spiritual enemies, said Blake, probably gardening in the nude. Today I’m trying to scowl more, mismatch my lingerie. Nobody seems bothered enough. Some saints spent their whole childhoods biting their teachers’ hands and sprinkling salt into spider- webs, only to be redeemed by a fluke shock of grace just before death. May I feather into such a swan soon. The Book of Things Not to Touch gets longer every day: on one page, the handsome puppy bred only for service. On the next, my mother’s face. It’s not even enough to keep my hands to myself —  there’s a whole chapter about the parts of me that could get me into trouble. In Farsi, we say jaya shomah khallee when a beloved is absent from our table — literally: your place is empty. I don’t know why I waste my time with the imprecision of saying anything else, like using a hacksaw to slice a strawberry when I have a razor in my pocket. To the extent I am necessary at all, I am necessary like a roadside deer —   a thing to drive past, to catch the white of, something to make a person pause, say, look, a deer.

[wastedawayagaininmargaritaville]

Forfeiting My Mystique by Kaveh Akbar

It is pretty to be sweet

and full of pardon like

a flower perfuming the

hands that shred it, but

all piety leads to a single

point: the same paradise

where dead lab rats go.

If you live small you’ll

be resurrected with the

small, a whole planet

of minor gods simpering

in the weeds. I don’t know

anyone who would kill

anyone for me. As boys

my brother and I

would play love, me

drawing stars on

the soles of his feet,

him tickling my back.

Then we’d play harm,

him cataloging my sins

to the air, me throwing

him into furniture.

The algorithms for living

have always been

delicious and hollow,

like a beetle husk in a

spider’s paw. Hafez said

fear is the cheapest room

in a house, that we ought

to live in better

conditions. I would

happily trade all my

knowing for plusher

carpet, higher ceilings.

Some nights I force

my brain to dream me

Persian by listening

to old home movies

as I fall asleep. In the

mornings I open my eyes

and spoil the séance. Am I

forfeiting my mystique?

All bodies become sicker

bodies. This is a kind of object

permanence, a curse bent

around our scalps resembling

grace only at the tattered

edges. It’s so unsettling

to feel anything but good.

I wish I was only as cruel as

the first time I noticed

I was cruel, waving my tiny

shadow over a pond to scare

the copper minnows.

Rockabye, now I lay me

down, et cetera. The world

is what accumulates — 

the mouth full of meat,

the earth full of meat.

My grandfather

taught his parrot

the ninety-nine holy

names of God. Al-Muzil:

The Humiliator. Al-Waarith:

The Heir. Once, after

my grandfather had been

dead for a year, I woke

from a dream (I was a

sultan guzzling flies

from a crystal boot) with

his walking cane deep

in my mouth. I kept sucking

until I fell back asleep.

There are only two bones

in the throat, and that’s if you

count the clavicle. This

seems unsafe, overdelicate,

like I ought to ask for

a third. As if anyone

living would offer.

Corporeal friends are

spiritual enemies, said

Blake, probably gardening

in the nude. Today I’m trying

to scowl more, mismatch

my lingerie. Nobody

seems bothered enough.

Some saints spent their

whole childhoods biting

their teachers’ hands and

sprinkling salt into spider-

webs, only to be redeemed

by a fluke shock

of grace just before

death. May I feather

into such a swan soon.

The Book of Things

Not to Touch gets longer

every day: on one

page, the handsome puppy

bred only for service. On

the next, my mother’s

face. It’s not even enough

to keep my hands to myself — 

there’s a whole chapter

about the parts of me

that could get me

into trouble. In Farsi,

we say jaya shomah khallee

when a beloved is absent

from our table — literally:

your place is empty.

I don’t know why I waste

my time with the imprecision

of saying anything else,

like using a hacksaw

to slice a strawberry when

I have a razor in my

pocket. To the extent I am

necessary at all, I am

necessary like a roadside deer — 

a thing to drive past, to catch

the white of, something

to make a person pause,

say, look, a deer.

[loosejournal]

Forfeiting My Mystique by Kaveh Akbar

It is pretty to be sweet and full of pardon like a flower perfuming the hands that shred it, but all piety leads to a single point: the same paradise where dead lab rats go.

If you live small you’ll be resurrected with the small, a whole planet of minor gods simpering in the weeds. I don’t know anyone who would kill anyone for me. As boys

my brother and I would play love, me drawing stars on the soles of his feet, him tickling my back. Then we’d play harm, him cataloging my sins

to the air, me throwing him into furniture. The algorithms for living have always been delicious and hollow, like a beetle husk in a spider’s paw. Hafez said

fear is the cheapest room in a house, that we ought to live in better conditions. I would happily trade all my knowing for plusher carpet, higher ceilings.

Some nights I force my brain to dream me Persian by listening to old home movies as I fall asleep. In the mornings I open my eyes and spoil the séance. Am I

forfeiting my mystique? All bodies become sicker bodies. This is a kind of object permanence, a curse bent around our scalps resembling grace only at the tattered edges. It’s so unsettling

to feel anything but good. I wish I was only as cruel as the first time I noticed I was cruel, waving my tiny shadow over a pond to scare the copper minnows. Rockabye, now I lay me

down, et cetera. The world is what accumulates —  the mouth full of meat, the earth full of meat. My grandfather taught his parrot the ninety-nine holy

names of God. Al-Muzil: The Humiliator. Al-Waarith: The Heir. Once, after my grandfather had been dead for a year, I woke from a dream (I was a sultan guzzling flies

from a crystal boot) with his walking cane deep in my mouth. I kept sucking until I fell back asleep. There are only two bones in the throat, and that’s if you count the clavicle. This

seems unsafe, overdelicate, like I ought to ask for a third. As if anyone living would offer. Corporeal friends are spiritual enemies, said Blake, probably gardening

in the nude. Today I’m trying to scowl more, mismatch my lingerie. Nobody seems bothered enough. Some saints spent their whole childhoods biting their teachers’ hands and

sprinkling salt into spider- webs, only to be redeemed by a fluke shock of grace just before death. May I feather into such a swan soon. The Book of Things

Not to Touch gets longer every day: on one page, the handsome puppy bred only for service. On the next, my mother’s face. It’s not even enough to keep my hands to myself — 

there’s a whole chapter about the parts of me that could get me into trouble. In Farsi, we say jaya shomah khallee when a beloved is absent from our table — literally:

your place is empty. I don’t know why I waste my time with the imprecision of saying anything else, like using a hacksaw to slice a strawberry when I have a razor in my

pocket. To the extent I am necessary at all, I am necessary like a roadside deer —  a thing to drive past, to catch the white of, something to make a person pause, say, look, a deer.

[flowerwrites06]

break my mind’s eye IX — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 

Word Count: 9k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation 

Three Months Later

In the deep quiet hour of the night, Belles’ stomach jolted her awake to a dark room. For a moment, when her bearings were not quite right, fear settled as if she transported to a strange place. Quickly turning her gaze there laid Jungkook with his back facing up and an arm around her torso. For the first time she let out a sigh of relief seeing the man’s face knowing that her location was at least familiar.

It became all too familiar now. Yoongi pretty much moved in as their own private medic despite his knowledge on medicine being phoned advice from an actual doctor. Belle did not protest however, having the male close by helped dealing with these past few months. Nausea every single morning, cramps in every single place that had the potential to do so while a lingering worry that she would have to see her child grow up in a world full of betrayal and pain.

Right now her stomach grumbled for a different reason. Looking down, Belle could slowly notice a more prominent swell poking out from her white cotton night gown with Jungkooks’ toned arm gently over it as if to shield it somehow. Once again she felt a rumble and the thought of chocolates brushed her mind.

“Jungkook…” Belle whispered, squeezing his arm a little. When the male didn’t respond she shook him softly. “Jungkook wake up.”

Jungkook shifted with a drawling hum under his breath, one eye opened momentarily before exhaustion pulled him in again and he closed it. “What is it?” He spoke into the pillow.

She slowly pushed herself to a sited position as his loose arm slid onto her thighs. “I want ice-cream.”

“What?” His brows furrowed automatically despite his eyes still comfortably shut.

“What you big boss men never heard of ice-cream?” Belle caressed his forearm which really only helped him fall asleep more.

With a light groan, Jungkook moved his arms to prop himself up enough for both his eyes to open and scan the room. Turning around he glanced over to check the time on the phone. “Baby, it’s 2 in the morning.” He mumbled attempting to meet her gaze but sleep was even more stubborn, most of his curls either sticking to his face or up to the ceiling.

Hand caressed over her swollen belly with a slight pout across her lips. “There’s late night ice-cream parlors.” Belle muttered under her breath without giving him a glance.

Jungkooks’ eyes immediately flickered down to where she affectionately brushed over her cute belly. Clearly it was not only her cravings he had been stirred awake to satisfy. Sighing, he forced himself to sit up properly as one of his hands attempted to brush his hair down. “Alright…”

Belle couldn’t help the accomplished smirk tugged at her lips as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed to walk to the wardrobe. Although the slight heaviness caused more of a waddle than a proper walk. “Make sure to wear your mask, it’s cold.” And their faces were all too recognizable nowadays especially after the wedding. Three months had already gone by but it made more relevant than ever in the media making it harder to keep this pregnancy as secret as possible.

He hummed in agreement tapping a name on his phone before pressing it to his ear. “Jongho, put in the address of the closest late night ice cream parlor in the sedan.” Jungkooks’ voice still rung raspy from sleep as his hand rubbed his eyes to make himself more alert.

“A-I’m sorry could you repeat that sir?” Jongho asked politely, stammering a little.

“The closest late night ice-cream parlor.” He enunciated his words as dramatically yet clearly as he could.

“An–an ice-cream parlor?”

“Yeah you never heard of an ice-cream parlor before?”

Jongho cleared his throat lightly. “Yes, sir sorry I’ll—I’ll bring the car in right away.”

Belle pushed the sleeves off her shoulder, letting the gown easily drop to the ground leaving her in the slight cold air. Eyes quickly settled on any piece of comfortable warm clothing she could find. Grey sweat pants, loose T-shirt and a soft pink hoodie which let her body relish back into the embrace of heat.

Jungkook walked into the wardrobe squinting in the bright light, pausing in his tracks for a moment as he watched Belle put on a pink mask that pleasantly matched her hoodie. The corner of his lips twitched up looking at how much more comfortable she looked, possibly even more than she did in the night gown. Rare it was to see Belle in such a relaxed state when the woman spent most of her days looking perfectly presentable.

Making his way to corner, he quickly pulled on some black sweatpants with a hoodie and mask while noticing Belle tapping on a moisturizer on her skin with her mask hugging the underside of her chin. “Trying to look pretty for the ice cream?” Jungkook mused.

“You saying I don’t look pretty already, Mr. Jeon?”

“Positively glowing.”

“You’re good at flattering, I’ll give you that.” Belle chuckled, exiting the wardrobe towards the main bedroom, her arms automatically hugging her stomach.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as he rushed over to her side, placing a hand on the small of her back.

Through the doors of the bedroom, Belle immediately say Nana pad over with the deep red blanket in her arms. “You’re already warmed up.” She chuckled before handing over the thick and small fabric. “It’s a little tradition thing but it was Jungkooks’ when he was a baby. Good to keep over the belly when you leave the house.”

Belle accepted the blanket with a smile, an odd tingle down her spin at the realization of how small Jungkook used to be. A little being full of wonder who smiled at random things before reality destroyed every remnant. “It might be colder outside who knows.” She tried to reassure the older woman somehow.

“Thank you.” Jungkook lightly squeezed her shoulder as they walked past the woman who bowed with a smile in response.

Jongho already stood at the edge of the entrance to the living room, bowing as soon as he saw the couple. “Your car is ready. The drive to the ice-cream parlor will be about fifteen minutes.” He announced though he still felt like this whole thing was part of some prank.

“Thank you, Jongho.” Belle grinned, almost skipping past the guard in glee.

“You know I’m the one driving to the parlor right?” Jungkook sassed, a brow jolting up.

“Well you’re the father, honey, it’s your job.” Belle walked towards the entrance as the guards opened them like some grandiose banquet.

Black sedan shone like a beetle under the moonlight when they reached outside. Crisp nightly air flowed through even their warm clothing except for the blanket Belle hugged around her belly.

Jungkook opened the door for the woman letting her climb in carefully before walking over to his side. It had been a while since he went on a drive for something so leisure and relaxed. He couldn’t help but feel a rush of content maybe even a little excitement at this spontaneous late night trip.

As he sat in the car reacquainting himself with all the controls, Jungkook noticed from the corners of his eye how delicately Belle placed the blanket over her belly as if she was tucking it goodnight.

Then they drove off.

Fifteen minutes stretched out a little longer than Jungkook expected but eventually they saw the pastel and neon lights in the shape of an ice-cream cone hit their area of vision.

Parking closest to the shop, Jungkook hurried over to Belles’ side and helped her walk out.

“I can still climb out of cars.” Belle giggled at how attention he was trying to be.

Jungkook held onto her hand while they walked into the parlor with their masks fully secured.

Bright lights touched their half-sleepy eyes while the blanket hung over her free arm. People continued on their normal conversations without turning their heads in recognition which brought a rush of relief in her body. No one knew about the pregnancy since Belle formed a talent in choosing outfits that hid the growing bump. Of course at some point it would get hard to conceal it.

Jungkook and Belle padded to the counter to choose their flavors. Her eyes and taste buds immediately leaned towards the chocolate while the male simply followed her lead. The man had not enjoyed ice-cream since he was a child when Nana would serve it to him when he was upset usually because both his parents were out to work. He figured chocolate was the best way to start up the taste in his mouth again.

Once the orders were done and they were served ice-cream in cups, they walked to one of the tables in the corner and sat across from each other.

Belle, once again placed the blanket over her belly in the same delicate fashion while her mouth practically watered watching the ice-cream just sit there waiting.

“People really come here at this hour just to have ice-cream?” Jungkook glanced at the couples and friends happily eating ice-cream at their tables as if time stood still within these walls.

She shrugged, scooping her first bite with the tiny neon green spatula. “It’s just fun, I guess. Every now and then to break the rules of regular schedule.” Bringing the spatula up to her mouth, Belle suckled on it letting the sweetness grace her tongue and soothe her cravings little by little.

Jungkook poked at his ice-cream, mostly watching the woman enjoy her order and already feeling full. “Have you done this before?”

“Once.” Belle mumbled. “When I first started at Saito, my boyfriend at the time got really drunk so I took him for ice-cream at 2 am to sober him up.” How strange it was speaking out a past self. Someone who she used to be. A person with her own decisions, who knew her own dreams and aspirations while working hard to gain them. She was a damn fighter.

He pressed his lips together for a moment, bitter taste on his tongue. “What happened between you two?”

“I started making more money than him and he didn’t like it.” Belle replied simply.

Jungkook hummed in a little wonder. “So he was weak.” He scooped up a decent bite, some of his dark curls hovering over his eyebrows.

“Yeah he was.” Belle had a small smile slowly playing on her lips. “Did you have anyone before me?”

He nodded in a slight nonchalant nature. “One. We were going out for about two months.”

“What happened?”

“She was a red angel in Sangria House.” Jungkook admitted. “Someone married her with a huge sum and I just wasn’t ready enough for the commitment at the time.”

“So you’ve never actually gone out with someone in a normal way.” She pointed the neon spoon towards the male before licking the remnants off of it. “Do you even know to how to?”

Jungkook chuckled before shaking his head. “Dating lesson wasn’t really part of my regime when growing up. Marriage and kids, yeah but anything to learn before that kind of got fuzzy.”

Belle tilted her head watching the way his expression turned a little faint, almost borderline sad. It was that burst of a moment where she realized that Jungkook never really had a real childhood or any sense of the matter. Growing up learning nothing but business and building legacy with no sense of true warm compassion and empathy created a good mob boss. Not a good family man. Her hand immediately rubbed over her plump belly once again silently reassuring the growing being that she was going to keep them safe from this mess. “I don’t want our child to feel fuzzy.”

“He won’t.” His tone grew serious now. “I promise he won’t be raised like I was.”

“He?” Belle grinned.

“Or she. Sorry my aunt kept saying ‘he’ on the phone, I think she’s infected me.” He scratched his brow.

“It’s okay. They are okay with girls, right?” Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when the thought crossed her mind.

“Daughters are treated just as well in our family, don’t worry.”

“That’s good. Cause I don’t want her to be raised like I was either.” It was bad enough Belle spent her whole childhood always being told she wasn’t good enough to be like her brother. But the thought of her possible daughter going through it sickened her to the core.

Jungkooks’ fingers absentmindedly played with the hem of Belle’s hoodie sleeve. Those same fingers traced to her own, intertwining them together in a light lock.

For a brief moment Belle forgot everything again. They were back in their fantasy bubble where things were warm and welcoming. Jungkook was a sweet man who did nothing but give her affection in ways no one had ever done. He dedicated so much of his time and energy to taking care of her.

His empire, on the other hand, still tried to tape itself back together while a wrecking ball slowly hurdled towards it.

-

As the murmurs died down, Yoongi creeped outside of his bedroom door through the dark hallway. Quiet and a little chilly as sock covered feet slowly pattered across the floor. Only sound he could catch was Nana carefully walking down the stairs with a big basket full of laundry. He had the strong urge to help the woman but it would make it ten times harder to sneak towards the second living room.

Time had been running out. Four months really stretched over the amount of time he was supposed to be inside working but Yoongi knew what he had to get. With Belles’ pregnancy, Jungkooks’ attention fizzled and moved rapidly from the career to his new building family which usually ended with him out of his office more than he should be.

Belle once again proved her power in the Jeon mansion when a simple ice-cream parlor date seemed to get the dangerous drug lord out of the house in minutes at ungodly hours of the night. Though Yoongi honestly was not completely sure whether it was a ruse or just a rare strike of luck that she had cravings at this perfect time.

Ears pricked up when he heard a light crash from the right, clothes flying in the air and the sound of skin slapping onto wood roughly. Yoongis heart jumped seeing the older woman fall at the end of the stairs. However before he could step forward to help, three guards already rushed over immediately to her side like a pack of medics.

They huddled over Nana while she tried to laugh it away. “Just a little clumsy.” Her eyes seemed to flicker up exactly where Yoongi was standing. Only for a split second where he wondered if it was simply a random action.

Though if he stripped himself of any piece of naivety he had then it might not have been a random action at all.

While the three guards were preoccupied, Yoongi padded over as casually but quickly as possible out of the main living room towards the second living room.

Not glance over his shoulder but his heart still pattered and yearned to turn around. He had to be quick.

Across the second living room, his feet sped up until Yoongi couldn’t even keep up with it anymore.

He stood in front of the door of Jungkooks’ office which is when he finally looked over his shoulder to see the place empty aside from the sounds of Nana being helped at the stairs. Fingers wrapped around the golden knob, twisting it slowly hoping it didn’t squeak.

Turning and turning until all the door could was be pushed open.

Yoongi sneaked through small gap, entering the dark office before closing the door behind him.

Once the door closed, there was nothing stopping him from rushing towards the table almost making the wood underneath his feet squeak. He stood at the table where Jungkook would usually sit, gaze frantically searching anything that looked remotely helpful to what they needed.

Rustling through the papers, Yoongi found handwritten letters confirming deals and hard-copy information on secret funding towards dens. Patting the pocket of his pajama pants, he felt his phone, pulling it out and taking a picture as steadily as possible despite his hands trembling under the pressure of getting caught. He was at the heart of the nest now. If the guards saw him snooping around here, he would be dead instantly.

In his attempt to reorganize everything back again, he stumbled across one letter that looked unfinished. Yoongi had his phone ready until his eyes finally caught who it was written to, in Jungkooks’ handwriting.

‘Dear Mother and Father…’

Brows furrowed, slowing his pace for a moment while his chest still rose and fell in the heat of the moment. When Yoongis’ mind began gain a more steady pattern he began to read.

‘I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that I got married recently. I want you to be one of the first to know that Belle is carrying my child. I apologize for being unable to tell you sooner. She’s doing really well, doctors appointment have been doing good.

The reason why I’m writing this letter is not only to inform you but to also carry out something I’ve been wanting for a long time.

When the baby is born, I’m stepping down. This world. Everything. I began a relationship with Belle hoping to make all of you happy by marrying the perfect woman. She was it. Unfortunately she was too perfect. I’ve grown fond of her.

Everything about her makes me feel calm and warm like I can be normal around her. I’m not even sure what is but it’s a good feeling from what I’ve experienced. My wife and child’s happiness need to come first. I want to grow a normal family with her.’

Yoongi felt like his hands were dirty reading the letter now. He was going to step down. Then that’s it, right? It was going to stop and maybe there could potentially be some form of normalcy in all their lives. He kept reading the few words left.

‘However protecting this empire before I’m gone also holds the utmost importance. In the remaining months of Belle’s pregnancy, I am devising a method that should get rid of our Park Chul situation once and for all…’

Heart moved back to its original speeding pace when there were no more words to explain just what Jungkook had planned. Yoongi almost crumpled the paper a little but quickly dropped it onto the table, taking a few more pictures before placing under the pile of extensive work.

His eyes flickered up to see a little light coming through the open gap and his stomach dropped, seeing Taehyung glance at the male and at the desk. Yoongi wrapped his fingers around a pen tightly not wanting to hurt him truly but they were so close. So close to getting this over and done with. Especially now that Jungkook had some plan to strike back at the one strong source they had to take him and his empire down.

“Kitchen. Now.” The younger male stated glancing over his shoulder to see anything oncoming.

Yoongi relaxed his grip on the pen and let out silent sigh of relief watching Taehyung walk away from the office and disappear to the side. He hurriedly tip-toed across the room looking back to see if he missed anything before sneaking through the gap again and closing the door.

When he looked over the guards seemed to be chatting in the center of the living room instead of peering towards the second living room for any disturbance. Yoongi could only hear their murmuring and light chuckling before blindly following Taehyung past the fireplace towards the door that led to the kitchen.

The kitchen had been modified significantly compared to the rest of the mansion which still had an vintage feel to it. White marble with subtle gold details shining in the dimmed warm lighting.

Taehyung padded over and stood at the kitchen island. Fingers tapping on the surface of the counter with a sigh passing his lips. “Okay look Angel already told me what’s going on.”

Yoongis’ brows furrowed. “Jesus Christ, is this an undercover mission or a party?” He kept his voice to a whisper, hands on his hips.

“Apparently Seokjin said there was no point in hiding it anymore now that Belle knew.” He shrugged although a confused expression still adorned his features. “Said if she’s involved, everything will fall into place.”

“So he’s playing Gandalf now too?” He retorted. “How much more is everyone gonna ask from Belle?”

Taehyungs’ heart dropped as the question lingered in the air, head hanging. That nagging feeling was slowly fading away but now it replaced with something so much more painful. A guilt of what cost had be paid for this recovery. He never truly paid for his debt. Belle did. “You’re going to help her out of here, right?”

“I’m trying.”

“That’s not a good enough answer.”

“I know it’s not.” Yoongi spoke through gritted teeth. “But it’s all I can give you right now.”

Taehyung nodded, body deflating a little despite the slight ray of hope that all this might change for the better. “Is there any way I can help?” Ever since this whole mess began, he had not been able to ensure his little sister that he had her back. Because he didn’t for a while. All his thoughts seemed meld into one hazy need to get rid of the pain he felt. Except that time the pain never identified itself. Taehyung knew why it hurt this time. He wanted his sister out of here, towards a better life just like she did for him.

Yoongi searched the mans’ expression turn into something a little more desperate. He succumbed to drowning in that same feeling. Nana’s honest words ringing in his ears. This is not just an undercover mission anymore. He hadn’t even been there for that long; not as long as Taehyung but god, he could feel it. That aching tug wanting to hold onto Belle and take her away from all the pain she didn’t deserve. That fucking burning anger at the people who used every piece of her patience and good heart only to rip it away from her permanently. It sickened him knowing the woman never wanted all this in the first place.

His hand tightened around his phone when a thought jolted in his mind. “Do you trust anyone in the Sangria House?” Yoongi asked.

Taehyung had no hesitation in any nerve of his body or part of his soul when he said: “Yes.”

-

A familiar outing now waltzing into the Sangria House early morning when the air was cool and the sun just almost took its highest point in the sky. Brunette hair flowed to the side as he walked across the pathway through the entrance door with everyone immediately recognizing his face.

However today Taehyung walked in a less relaxed demeanor than normal as a tiny object in his jacket pocket grew heavier, forcing him to walk slower. You’re doing this for Belle. He knew Angel told him the truth about everything but something about this still felt like he was diving into a pool where he could not see the end.

Into the private room he was lead, the white coat opened the door and Taehyung saw Angel standing in front of the table

Angels’ smiled immediately adorned her glowing features as Taehyung walked into the room. As soon as the white coat closed the door behind him, she broke all manner of rules and jumped on him, arms wrapping around his neck and face buried into the crook.

Whatever knotted nerves he had loosened when Angel embraced him, warmth radiating from her body onto his and the scent of vanilla gracing his nose. His own arms wrapped around her waist, nose nudging into her shoulder to take in more of her aroma and ease all troubles.

“I thought you weren’t coming back.” Angel murmured. A month had passed since his last visit and it was embarrassing to admit that she grew a little worried. After all the two were not really doing anything exciting other than talking. At some point people would get bored and move onto someone who would easily provide better services.

Taehyung hummed in near bliss, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “I’m sorry.” His voice muffled against the fabric of Angels’ dress.

She gently pulled away from the hug even though Taehyungs’ arms were still secure around her. “Don’t apologize. I just get worried.” Angel chuckled shyly. Another bright smile tugged at her lips now as she broke his embrace but held his hand, leading him over to the table where a colorful array of rice cakes on a plate rested. “They made more flavors this time because you liked it so much.”

Taehyung could hear the delight in her voice making his heart warm. For a moment, he wished this was just a casual visit as they sat down next to each other once again. “Thank you…” His voice merely came out in a whisper. “Angel—” He placed his hand over hers, caressing it softly. “There’s another reason why I’m here.”

Angel’s smile softened now, not so much as a frown but an kind expression to show she was listening in all seriousness. “What is it?”

“You’ve already helped me so much.” Taehyung wrapped his longer fingers around her small, soft hand turning his body around so he faced her completely. “I need you to help me just this once. For my sister.” He grinned. “Are the cameras on in here?”

“I asked Seokjin to turn it off.” She smiled shyly. “It’s—it’s so I could hug you without the guards barging in.”

Taehyung grinned leaning in, forehead pressed against hers. “I wish I could stay longer…I really do.” He whispered. “But we’re not going to be able to see each other for a while.”

“I know.” Angel whispered, voice shaking ever so slightly. “What do you need me to do?” There she was again with the award-winning smile ready to do whatever she was required no matter what the cost.

“Please—I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He shook his head. “Say no if you want to.”

Angel caressed his chest gently as a way to comfort him. “I’m always safe, Taehyung. Believe me, I’ve probably been safer than Belle this whole time.” Shining eyes met his gaze giving him a more faint but hundred times more genuine smile. “No one deserves to have their life taken away like that. I want to do this.”

Taehyung had a bitter taste on his tongue hearing those words. Belle had been less safe than members of the Sangria House. Her own made-up home and equally fake family could not keep her safer than Seokjin did with his angels. “Okay.” He whispered, reaching into jacket pocket and pulling the tiny object. He placed it on his open palm making the thing look absolutely miniscule.

A USB stick, dark almost matching the color of Taehyung’s jacket. Angel accepted it and placed it in the last place anyone was coming looking. If they did, it would end in a heap load of trouble. Once the object was in her hand, she stuffed it in between her breast until it lay securely in her bra but unseen.

He bit down the wide smirk tugging at his lips watching the USB stick traveling down the valley of her breasts, hiding in the forbidden area for safe keeping. “Was that to tease me?”

Angel giggled reaching out and caressing his cheek. “Maybe a little.” She scrunched her nose.

Taehyung absolutely melted at the adorable sight, taking the liberty of the shut cameras to lean in and press the quickest kiss on her lips. “I-I know it’s against the rules.” Before he could explain himself any further, he felt soft plush lips quieten him down again, his heart jumped out of his chest.

Quickly pulling away from the kiss, she bit down her bottom lip to hide her grin. “There’s no rules anymore between you and me. Just don’t take too long getting back, okay?”

He chuckled and nodded. “You know what to do?” Taehyungs’ eyes absentmindedly flickered down to her breast.

With all her usual elegant confidence, she smiled. “You and your sister will be safe soon.”

-

The air was thick with elegance and style, vibrant colors of yellow, sky blue and rose pink gracing every corner twinkling in diamonds. Growing up Belle watched in awe every fashion show or design video imagining her own name etched on the curtains for all the critics and admirers to see.

Belles’ own attire was simple, long white dress with long, layer frills that helped conceal the bump to the best of its ability. Worst case scenario people would think she let herself go but really the news should be coming soon considering a four month bump already proved to be difficult to hide no matter what the dress looked like.

Makeup artists actively moved about each model almost like machines while Belle checked every outfit was fitted to perfection.

Only thing that doused the fire of energy was the aching. Her back, limbs and belly kept sending either dull or sharp pains ever since this morning which caused Belle to have a less than enthusiastic demeanor while preparing for everything.

Boyoung explained that it was normal to have these aches during the fourth month of pregnancy so Belle let it be. Except now she wished she had time for a small appointment with the doctor just to check everything was okay.

“Madame Belle!”

Saito’s voice brought her back to reality while she was fixing a models’ earring. Belle turned over her shoulder to see the woman wearing a white attire as well to ensure colors did not clash with the actual designs. A grin tugged at the corners of her lips, kindly giving the model good luck before turning to see the older woman. “Am I allowed to be called that yet?”

“Sweetie, you deserved to be called that long before this fashion show.” Saito chuckled, rubbing her arm. “How’re you feeling?” She tilted her head searching the youngers’ expression.

Belle took a deep breath feeling a jolting ache on her back but she smiled nonetheless. “I’m okay. A little nervous.”

“Good. It’s good to be a little nervous. That means you care.” Saito squeezed her shoulder gently. “I’ll be here with you the whole time.”

“Thank you.” Belle’s eyes flickered to the side where she saw a familiar figure in a suit walk backstage with his gaze looking around for something. “Excuse me, Saito.” She muttered before moving past her towards Jungkook.

When Jungkook finally set his eyes on her, his expression softened and a smile tugged at his lips. “You ready?”

She nodded mimicking his smile absentmindedly. “You came, I thought you had meetings.”

Jungkook shrugged non-chalantly. “I’m their boss. They can wait.”

Belle chuckled lightly watching Taehyung make his way backstage but one person still missing. “Where’s Yoongi?”

“He’s at his seat already.” The man nodded to the side. Jungkooks’ hand almost automatically reached out to caress her belly gently before quickly pulling away. “I’ll—see you at the end of the show.” He smiled.

“Yeah…” She whispered, giving him a bright grin.

For a moment he thought to just turn on his heel and leave but he couldn’t resist. Leaning in, Jungkook chastely pressed his lips against hers. Slowly he stepped back pressing his lips together before walking away.

Belles’ smile disappeared as soon as Jungkook was out of sights. Maybe to him the kiss meant a sign of good luck for the show. To her, it was a kiss to say goodbye.

-

Fingers caressed the warrant like his first born child, brush of light cool air bringing even more relief than Namjoon already had. God how many years did he sacrifice his health, sleep and sanity to come to this moment? Where he had a car parked just outside the gates of the Jeon mansion awaiting the clear sign for them to enter.

Of course the captain had some reluctance in giving them the warrant but a direct order from the mayor had him quaking enough to give the approval.

Every nerve in his body tingled in anticipation, looking at the paper before staring at the majestic mansion. All that power was about to crumble down to the state it deserved to be in. Obsolete.

Granted the male was not naïve in thinking that this infiltration will end everything. The Jeon family had roots so deep in this city that it would take ripped out the entire land just to get rid of everything. But this was a first step to ensure the empire never grew too big for its own good.

Every King needed to lose their crown every now and then to learn that they were just a person underneath all that luxury and power. Easily breakable.

And Namjoon felt oh so pleased finally being able to break Jeon Jungkook in his tyrannous reign.

In a perfect pattern, that thought led to the gates finally opening with two police officers signaling to him that the coast was clear to enter.

-

“It’s time. Places, everyone!” Belle called out and all the models rushed over to the area they needed to come out from. Her own heart pounded faster at every second and another ache jolted in her abdomen now strong enough to make her wince. But she held her composure with all the strength could muster.

Then the first model walked out onto the runway and her stomach jumped knowing her path to any possible reputation as a designer now began its course.

Camera flashed even more violently than before as Belle caught a few happy murmurs from the crowd. She smiled before another searing burst of pain hit both her abdomen and back forcing her to stop for a moment to take deep breaths, her hand caressing her belly to somehow soothe it.

“Just bear with me for a minute, sweetheart.” She whispered to the belly as it seemed to getting more and more violent in its power.

Halfway through the show, Belle succumbed to leaning on anything close by with the constant pain but her smile stayed intact. She felt something uncomfortable between her legs as if a period came along without her knowing.

That was when worry sunk in. Before she could place any attention on it however, one of her models’ dress got snagged with the necklace. Belle almost could not catch her name being called but the woman quickly got herself back and rushed to separate them to ensure no thread was out of place.

“Belle?” Saitos’ hand hovered over her back with a worried expression on her face. “You okay?”

No. That was the initial answer that formulated in her mind as she once again leaned back on one of the vacant vanities. “I’m okay it’s just—a little sore.” The description had been underwhelming to describe whatever was happening to Belle. Her knees were losing all its power to hold her body up, even her hearing ability became a little muffled as if trying to conserve energy or to numb more of the pain.

Saito nodded though not looking completely convinced since she could see through the younger female on any occasion. Gaze flickered down to her belly before meeting hers again. “Tell me if you need to stop. It’s just a show, okay?” She briefly caressed her cheek before glancing over at the models coming in and out, trying to analyze the situation. “Two more outfits left then we’ll go to the doctor.” She muttered. “Alright?”

Belle took another deep breath, cheeks puffing out a little in the process but she nodded putting herself back on her feet again. “Alright.”

All the models made their way to the stage showing off a final viewing of all the outfits in all their glory and the crowd soared. Anyone who knew Belle could feel the success simply oozing from this show. The sheer extravagance yet simplicity with subtle connections to the beautiful expression of nature during spring time brought an impressed smile even on the harshest critics.

If only the designer herself could completely enjoy this achievement without her whole body being overwhelmed with discomfort and pain.

“You have to go out for a bow.” Saito explained gently as Belle tried her best to focus only on her breathing.

Aside from her muffled hearing, her whole body now burned like a furnace making Belle a little lightheaded. It’s almost done. It’s almost done. One more smile.

God, that was the last thing she wanted to think on her first successful fashion show.

Once again the woman nodded giving Saito a big smile which she returned before turning on her heel and walking to the stage. Step after the other carefully trying to keep her composure as best as she could.

Then all Belle saw was a bright white light, her hearing now resorted to a high-pitched drawled out beep making her think she was watching a muted video in front of her. Shaking fingers intertwined with one another, the girl stretched her exhausted lips into a wide grin. Heavy head lowered into the most decent form of a bow without her legs giving out.

Keep it in. Keep it in. She repeated to herself, trying to focus on her breathing while barely being able to hear anything.

Camera flashed and the crowds applause tried to push the barrier of mute suddenly formed in her ears. Belle could see the smiles however. That was all she needed. They liked it. They liked her designs. Her work paid off just like she always dreamed. That thought kept her standing on the stage in the best composure she could muster. Another bow given to each side ensuring they knew how grateful she was.

Maybe for a brief second, Belle forgot her whole body was warning of something in messages of deep ache and lack of orientation or balance.

Though it quickly came back for another reminder. This time more persistent. Belle felt like her belly was being jabbed by something sharp in such a ruthless manner, she worried she could collapse right here on the floor. Even her legs trembled and the discomforting feeling between her legs now almost felt wet like it soaked through her panties.

Belle kept her smile though it was trembling significantly before she backed away out of the stage, almost running but there was hardly any strength left for that anymore.

The white light now faded away and she was away from the stage, coming in backstage.

As if something snapped in her willpower when Belle felt her legs stumble onto the floor just past the closed curtains. Knees crashed against the wooden floor leaving a thud echoing across the room.

Both Saito and Taehyungs’ smiles disappeared watching the bright looking woman drop to her knees, only thing they could hear now was her agonized whimpering.

Saito sped towards her before anyone else truly gauge the situation, heels slamming onto the floor before her arm over the youngers’ shoulder as she almost fell on her side. “Belle?” She turned her around to see mascara coated tears dripping down Belle’s cheeks. “Belle what’s wrong? Tell me please.”

“It hurts…” Belle cried out, lips trembling and the drenched feeling between her legs leaking down the insides of her thighs and making her dress stick to her skin. “The baby…” She whispered before gasping.

For a few seconds her vision turned white making her whine shakily as her lower belly felt like it was being ripped apart with someone’s bare hands. Cold tears under her eyes, unable to close her legs from the sloppy sensation and the pungent smell of blood. Belle tried to look down but all she could catch was a glimpse of her white dress now glistening in deep red.

“You sick fuck get out of here!” Taehyung grabbed the reporter by the collars just after the flash of his camera. He had every nerve in his body to punch him until his nose fell to the floor but the sound of his sister sobbing made him stop.

Three guards immediately rushed in and carried the reporter off backstage while they tried to thrash around like a dirty insect.

Taehyung breathed heavily grimacing at the pig before looking at one of the guards who looked equally distressed. “Get Jeon here now.” He gestured.

Eyes shone in delight as Jungkook looked at the audience chatting away with an air of enthusiasm. He could almost see his wife climbing up this ladder of success. She deserved every bit of it especially since the man now saw the designs for himself. Growing up seeing Saitos’ designs, it was pleasing to see that the style may have changed but the quality never diminished.

A guard then walked over to him, reluctantly tapping him on the shoulder and leaning into his ear so his voice could be heard only to them in the crowd. “Sir it’s your wife… there’s been an incident.”

As soon as those words were muttered in his ear Jungkooks smile disappeared. He knew there were cameras around but nothing else seemed whirl around his mind except Belle. His body grew cold at those horrid words that he hoped would never come together.

Feet bolted, passing the guard to backstage even though his increasingly pounding heart made it hard to move faster.

Yoongis’ stomach and heart were already dancing in distress this whole night after getting a call from Namjoon that they would be infiltrating Jeon mansion tonight and then arresting him as soon as possible for the amount of concerning evidence. The police would be waiting for Jungkook to be taken away at his own home. It was a cruel fate in a normal context but for a man like Jeon Jungkook, it was what everyone knew he deserved.

However then the guard rushed in to whisper something in Jungkooks’ ear and without even the slightest warning or preparation, Jungkook stepped into a run backstage.

If his nerves were not in knots already, now they were just tangled up forever. Not asking for any kind of clarification, he simply followed the younger male in the same pace knowing only one thing and one thing alone could have Jungkook so worried to be in such a rush.

Once Jungkook arrived backstage, breathing heavily and sweat already forming on his neck, his stomach twisted at the sight in front of him.

Saito wrapped dark burgundy cloth around Belle’s waist area, his wife’s white dress tainted with red while the models either wept or just looked utterly worried.

Taehyung had a phone to his ear speaking through gritted teeth possibly to a doctor attempting to give instructions.

Jungkook rushed towards the woman, tears already burning behind his eyes just looking at her sobbing in complete pain. “What’s happening? What do we do?” He whispered. For the first time in his life, the man had fear seeping through his tone.

Belle gripped onto Saitos’ clothes feeling her vision blur although she wasn’t sure it was from the tears or the lack of her ache ceasing. Before she could get her bearings, something hooked under her back and knees. Her body lifted from the ground and cold rush flowed through her from the speed she was being moved in.

Then all Belle could see was black. Everything shut down almost as if she was lulled to a deep sleep.

-

Yoongi practically kicked the door down as they tried to get out the backdoor. He opted to drive before anyone else could, running to the driver’s seat of the black sedan waiting just in case paparazzi rushed in too thick at the entrance.

Saito and Taehyung ran out with Jungkook following close behind, carrying Belle as securely as he could despite his stomach lurching.

Taehyung opened the door while Saito moved to the other side and climbed in.

Jungkook tried to place Belle laying down on the car seat as gently as possible before climbing in at the same time Taehyung sat in the passenger seat.

Before they could even close their doors, Yoongi drove off definitely breaking a few speeding rules as he practically burst into the streets, tires screeching against the tar.

-

“Go to the J District, there’s a shortcut button there.” Jungkook nodded to the GPS, city lights passing across his face.

“This isn’t time for a road trip, Jungkook.” Yoongi seethed.

“We need to go to the private house and get our own medic.” He argued.

Taehyung pressed the button even though anger still burned in his body. “Why can’t we just go to a fucking hospital? It’ll be closer.”

“Hospitals are public places, alright? The minute one disloyal nurse gets a glimpse of any of us, the press will be outside in seconds.”

Yoongis’ grip around the steering wheel tightened so much, he could feel his pulse through his palm as his knuckles grew white. “I swear to god, Jeon. This isn’t one of your damn danger missions.” Something cracked inside him and the male couldn’t seem keep any of the usual composure he had around the power figure.

Jungkook sighed looking over at Belle who struggled to keep her consciousness while her blood soaked through his own shirt. “Just do it.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

“Taehyung, dear get a medic to the private home now so no time is wasted.” Saito broke into the tension with her gently yet firm voice while her slightly blood stained hand brushed through Belle’s hair. “If she doesn’t get treatment quickly, it might cause an infection.”

Yoongi glanced at the rearview mirror, his heart feeling empty not being able to see Belle from this line of vision but he increased his speed anyway taking a quick left.

“If anything happens to her, Jeon I’ll kill you, I swear to god.” Taehyungs’ eyes were reddened and glossy, a phone pressed to his ear again as he called for a private medic to go to the Jeons’ private house immediately.

-

Belle jolted awake for a moment seeing a grey ceiling and a blurry vision of a face looking down. Some voices spoke but they were heavily muffled. Then her body felt like it was being moved again. As if she was flying or levitating somehow through her locations. “Tae—” It was the only name she could breathe out.

A burst of bright warm lighting hit her exhausted eyes making her close them for a moment. It left her trying to get her hearing together but they were still difficult to pick up. She heard a familiar deep voice. Her big brothers’ voice. Most of them seemed familiar except one who from whatever she could catch had a calm demeanor.

Her vision cleared just for a second but Belle was welcomed with blood dripping from something thick around her waist. At least she thinks it was from her. It tainted the wooden floors nonetheless.

In a few more heartbeats, she felt a soft surface under her body and Belle fully melted into it without any hesitance.

Jungkook backed away reluctantly as the doctor leaned in to examine Belle. A tear threatening to escape at the brim of his right eye.

Taehyung bit down the urge to sob looking at the amount of blood his baby sister shed on the floor. He looked around for some kind of cloth and found white hand towel with golden lettering. Grabbing the cloth, he crouched down to wipe off the trail of blood on the floor while his tears mixed in with it.

“We need to get some cleaner clothes on her.” The doctor stated looking over at Saito who quickly nodded.

“There’s some nightgowns in the cupboard.” Jungkook muttered, gesturing towards the white closet next to the vanity.

Saito shrugged her jacket off leaving her in her shirt tucked into her skirt as she opened the luxurious cupboard and pulled out the most breathable nightgown. Walking back to the bed, she climbed on the other side after pushing her shoes off.

The doctor took out some scissors and cut the middle of her dress so it could be ripped off easily since it was mostly ruined as it were. Saito helped the piece of clothing get shrugged off her shoulders.

Belle whined at the sudden cold feeling passing through her body. It definitely didn’t help since the blood began to stick to her skin.

Jungkook noticed the little sound and rushed to the fireplace, crouching down and switching it on to add more warmth to the room. His disoriented focus had to stare the running fire for a moment not able to gain any kind of patterned thinking. Shrugging his jacket off his shoulder, he threw it onto the chair to his side where his mother would usually read.

“May I have only one extra person in this room?” The doctor asked kindly.

Jungkook looked over his shoulder, snapping back to reality as Taehyung got up to his feet.

“I’ll take care of her.” Saito reassured the both of them.

Niether one of them opposed knowing there was really only one person who always took care of Belle without her having to give something in return.

Both males padded out of the room. Jungkook gave one final glance towards Belle before closing the door in front of him.

-

Once they reached the private home and Taehyung and Jungkook were preoccupied with getting Belle acquainted, Yoongi stopped at the entrance to shakily grab his phone. A light groan passed his lips when he couldn’t get his thoughts together to click the number. Eventually the memory came in and he typed the number in, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Yoongi we’re ready, where are you?” Namjoon muttered into the phone.

“Something’s happened, it’s Belle. We’re at the private home at J District. Get yourself fucking ready here now.” Yoongi quickly informed and hung the phone up, trying to delete the number on his phone as calmly as he could. His hand reached into his holster to feel the harsh object giving him some form of relief aside from the ache in his heart.

Walking into the private home, he saw Jungkook pacing around worriedly while Taehyung leaned back against the counter with his arms folded over his chest.

Yoongi found it so strange how a man of such power could look so vulnerable in front of him. It was the perfect time except he had a bitter taste on his tongue calling it ‘perfect’. To think it took Belle to go through an immense amount of pain for this to happen made him look more like the villain than the murderous druglord worried for his wife and heir.

-

It felt like eternity had passed and restarted again when Belle finally woke up without her vision being blurry or her hearing almost completely lost. The wet feeling between her legs now completely dry and even comfortably warm. Pain slowly subsided though there was still very faint ache that also slowly passed.

Reddened eyes flickered over to the side where she saw Saito listening to a man in a white suit talking to her in a soft murmur.

The expression on Saitos’ face only spoke concern or maybe pity.

“Saito?” Belle tried to speak but it came out in a raspy whisper, throat a little ticklish from how dry it was.

Saito looked over at the younger woman, sighing before meeting the doctors’ gaze. “I’ll tell her, you just inform the three men out there.” She gave him a reassuring nod.

“Of course.” The doctor agreed before opening the door and disappearing behind it.

Once it was just the two of them, Belle tried to shift in the bed to somehow sit up but the ache only increased making her wince.

“No no, stay still.” Saito quickly sat down on the edge of the bed, soothing her still swollen belly and held onto her hand.

“What—what happened? Where am I?” She looked around the strange bedroom before glancing down at her belly. “I–I can’t…” Belle placed a hand over her belly. “There was so much blood.” Her breath hitched in her throat.

“Belle…” Saito tried to keep her voice as calm as possible even though her heart dropped seeing the look of confusion and fear ridding the youngers’ face. “The doctor said your baby may have had a heart defect of some sort…” She gulped down. “It couldn’t survive, sweetie.” She tried to soothe her chest. “I’m sorry.”

Belle shook her head, feeling a burning behind her eyes. “No…no the–the doctors’ appointment—said everything—was fine.” She tried to breathe through her frantic sobs. “Why would they say it was fine?” She pulled herself up, wincing as tears collecting at the brim of her eyes. “Why would they say it was fine if there was a heart defect?”

Saito took a deep breath, squeezing her shoulders gently. “Sometimes they can’t catch it. These things are very difficult to predict, Belle.”

She had already been unconscious before now something else seemed to turn off inside her. As if the whole world did not crash or explode. But simply stopped working for the arrival of cruel fates’ plan.

-

Torturous amount of time passed before the doctor walked through the door with a solemn expression on his face giving none of them any sense of reassurance. Because there wasn’t any to give. He looked at all three of them who had stopped in their usual tracks to gaze at the older male. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon.” The doctor looked more at Jungkook now. “Your wife has had a miscarriage. I’ve cleaned everything up to ensure there was no infection but I do suggest that she go to a proper hospital for proper checkups.”

Jungkook looked completely frozen as the news lingered in the already thickened air. He backed away a little, balance on the edge of a study table of whatever it was the man didn’t care. Tears brimmed at his eyes trickling down his already flushed cheeks without a care in the world.

If Yoongi didn’t feel like a villain before, he did now.

Taehyung turned away to face the wall but he could still hear the light sobs passing his lips.

Yoongi faced the doctor and led him out of the home.

Out in the dark night, he smiled at the doctor giving him thanks as he opened his car door for him.

Once the doctor drove off onto the road, Yoonginoticed from the corners of his eye the figures moving around in the bushes around on his left and right. Blatantly the man turned to notice the dark uniforms even from the distance, their badges glimmering just a little in the light. On the right he heard the sound of metal moving.

It was time. This had to happen here and now or never.

Licking his lips he let out a deep sigh and walked back inside, once again, checking his holster before entering the house again.

-

Sound muffled to non-existence as the room seemed to get progressively smaller, walls hugging her still body. It ached everywhere. She could feel the burn and still smell the pungent stench of her own blood tainting the now soft, dry surface. Back cramped, lower belly so weakened as if it was punched a hundred times with spiked metal fists. Exhaustion clouded Belle’s mind, pulling this broken shell into a decent lull to slumber but her eyes stayed wide open. Unblinking. She stared at nothing and everything.

Mind finally accustomed itself to the new setting of the Jeons’ private home. Deep warm lighting from the lamps at each corner, dark wooden floors and a running fireplace facing the front of the bed. Belle remembered catching a glimpse of it when they carried her in here leaving a wet red trail on the floor as she was moved. Her body barely moved however, limbs burning but frozen at the same time. Belle told herself to try and wriggle her toes or move her fingers. Not a single nerve responded.

She had one thing in common with her mind now. Loneliness.

So strange to think that a being barely grown to be called a full human could place such a heavy weight on Belle’s head. The loss now brought this in this feeling of being alone. Belle was once two. Now she was one broken thing. Barely able to move or function.

The door clicked open but Belle still refused to move whether out of exhaustion or just lack of care. It didn’t matter what anyone said, that empty feeling was still there.

Saito stayed silent as long as she felt it was necessary. But the words seemed to fall out of her without control. “I really can’t say anything to make you feel better, honey. There’s no easy way to comfort someone who’s lost something that could’ve been.”

Persistently unmoving as the woman was, her eyes still flooded on its own accord, burning and liquid flowing onto the pillow. This wasn’t Belle’s fault. It wasn’t anyone fault. Nothing but fate once again showing how it never had it out for her in the first place.

That was the problem though, wasn’t it? Belle spent so much time praying for fate to do something right for her but it only gave her more pain. What was going to happen for the better if she just stood and smiled at all the suffering thrown her way? Fate gave her a fake marriage, forced her to fall in love with a man who only cared about his reputation. Fate allowed her to be impregnated against her will. Fate stood by while Belle lost the child she grew to love. The child she had envisioned to raise and protect was now gone.

“It’s a good thing.” Belle whispered, still not shifting from her position nor looking at Saito.

The older womans’ brows furrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

It had to stop. It had to stop now or never.

Belle pursed her lips together before swallowing down the lump in her throat, preparing the words that kept swirling in her mind for months. Begging to escape so she could be free. Finally she moved her head to meet Saitos’ gaze. Despite her weak nature, her eyes held firm onto hers to ensure that the woman heard and understood everything she was going to say.

“There’s something I need to tell you…about how Jungkook and I met.”

<< PREV CHAP | NEXT CHAP >>

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

just full on bodies you with a semi NEW FIC JUST DROPPED BABES

we are leaving cute high school world and entering pain town. this story will have mentions of self harm and suicidal ideation. Please take care of yourselves and don't engage if that sort of content is triggering to you. (be nice to yourselves, i love you)

The worst year of his life starts out the same as so many good days, it almost makes him dizzy to think back on. He feels, later, that a start to this much torment, this painful, should have begun completely fucking miserable, but it had been just any other day. It starts the same way so many days before it starts. His eyes open. He’s in his bedroom, in his bed, like normal. He’s staring up at his black ceiling, wrapped up in his bedspread. His phone buzzes, and he groans, reaches for it, scans messages. A good morning from Barbara, an unread goodnight from Adam, a text from that talent agency that there was something they could use his voice for. He throws back his blankets, rubs sleep from his eyes, and dresses.

In high school his uniform had been an oversized striped hoodie, but for his birthday a few years ago, Charles had bought him several nice dress pants, suit jackets, and collared shirts, and he’d sort of settled into that as his new everyday. He likes how he looks, because this shit is expensive, custom, made to fit his more generous frame, and both his partners always say he looks handsome in a jacket and tie. (Sometimes Barbara yanks him around by the tie. Sometimes Adam snaps his suspenders.) And besides, his dad had taken his preferences into consideration, because all the pieces he’d been gifted had that pattern he was drawn to, thick black and white stripes that absolutely stand out in a crowd. He dresses quickly, throws on his suit jacket over his pinstriped shirt. He adjusts his tie, and gives a grin. Too many teeth, too sharp, and he waves a hand in front of his mouth, and tries again. Human teeth. There we go, B-Man. He lifts his legs, not especially in the mood to walk, and begins to make his way downstairs, for breakfast. He passes by Lydia’s room, and considers harassing his sister, but he remembers how bad he needed his Saturday sleep-ins at fifteen, and takes pity on her, floating past her door silently.

His father, always an early riser, is already in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee, and Betelgeuse lets his feet hit the floor, so that his heeled boots clack against the kitchen tile.

Charles knows the sound, doesn’t even turn around. “Morning, BJ. Any plans for today?”

His relaxed, not exactly actively working lifestyle is not his dad’s favorite, but he’s got a long time, a lot longer than any other person, to work a job. He's just enjoying the time he gets with all his favorite breathers, before he doesn’t have it anymore. At least, that’s always been his excuse. It's not that he can't find work, or that he’s unhirable to a normal job, it’s that he’s trying to enjoy life. Obviously.

But there's good news this morning.

“Got a text from th’ agency. Some voice work,” he grunts. His insanely gravely voice is not always in high demand, but it's been getting some attention lately, mostly because the last commercial he did voice over for, he had to sing, and the request for more of that has been promising. The big goal is some acting gig, on stage, preferably, but he’d take TV, too. He loves the attention, he loves the rush, he loves entertaining. Unfortunately he’s got a demonic aura that makes breathers nervous on principle. He knows if he could just get a break, he’d have a lot to give… but he’s maybe not working on getting that break as hard as he could be.

“Very nice,” Charles finally turns, and smiles, clearly approving. He sets a cup of coffee in front of his son, and BJ glances at it. “Be a pal and wake your mother up?” “This early? On a Saturday?” He squints. “You tryna take me out via Emily attack?” “We’ve got that check up to go to,” Charles says. “I don’t want to be late.”

He shrugs, takes the cup, and vanishes from sight, appearing upstairs, next to his mother. Emily is still wrapped in the bedsheets, snoring lightly, but he knows the trick to rousing her. The coffee cup is waved around her nose, allowing the aroma to hit her senses, and, eyes still closed, she reaches for it. He pulls the cup back.

“Come on, ma,” he scratches gently at her scalp. “Time to get up.” “Coffeeeee,” she groans, reaching at it blindly again, and he grins, and walks backwards, setting the coffee on the dresser, across the room. “Coffee’s over here, Deetzy,” he tells her, and she finally cracks an eye open, and groans. “Evil. Evil son.” “Yup,” he agrees, easily. “Come on. Chuck says you got some appointments to keep.” His mother groans, and kicks back the sheets, before standing.

He’d been twelve, and herself only about thirty when she’d found him, and now, ten years later, at 40, her age is showing, a little. She’s been growing in gray hair for the past few years, and it hasn’t taken over her natural sunshine yellow, but it’s becoming a bit more noticeable, and the slight lines forming around her mouth and eyes are a new addition to her features. Chuck’s aging in much the same way, but with fewer laugh lines. The hair at his father’s temples is going gray, and if he really looks, he can see the beginnings of salt and pepper in his father’s beard. He doesn’t like looking for it, though, and doesn't like the feeling gnawing in his guts at seeing his parents age. If he had his way, they’d stay frozen in time, the way he probably will. Demons don’t age, past a certain point, and he’s pretty sure he’ll be hitting it, soon enough.

He watches his mother shuffle across the floor, and claim her prize of coffee. She takes a long sip, and then groans. “I don’t want to go to the doctor,” she complains to him, and he pats her shoulder. “I know, ma,” he gives her a very sympathetic smile. “But you gotta. Or Chuckles will throw a fit. It’s just a check up, right? No biggie.” She rubs at her temple, and winces. “Getting old sucks,” she tells him. “I’ve been having the worst headaches, recently.”

When they make it back downstairs, Chuck's got breakfast going, and Lydia is sipping her own coffee. Black, like her heart, she always says. He passes her by and ruffles that mop of long blonde hair. “Beetle breath,” she greets him, as he takes a plate from Charles, and sits to eat.

The voice over work isn't as big a deal as he was hoping. He adjusts his tie, fiddles with the collar of his pinstripe dress shirt, and steps out of the booth. “Fuckin’ peanuts,” he complains, and his agent just shrugs. “Gotta start small, BJ. We need someone to do some crooning for this other comercial, some car sale, or something. You feel like playing Sinatra for a bit?”

Not especially, but he does it anyway, and then meets Adam and Barbara for lunch. Adam’s taking classes for business management, and he’s just about done. He wants to take over his grandpa’s hardware store, outside of the city. Way outside, actually, in some little town in Connecticut. They’ve got shared plans, shared dreams, and all of it hinges on this little store in this little town. BJ isn’t too worried. His boyfriend’s hobbies come and go, but Adam really, really enjoys woodworking, and getting to own a place like that sounds like getting to own his own playground.

Barbara, meanwhile, is stuck in clerical work, which she finds mind numbingly dull, but it's a steady paycheck, and it’s afforded her a ticket out of her dad’s place, so that’s something. She and Adam share a tiny studio apartment in Queens, and for all the time Betelgeuse spends there, he might as well live there, too. But three people in a studio isn’t any of their idea of a good time. Speaking of…

“I was on zillow, today,” Adam starts, and he and Barbara lean over with varying degrees of interest, as Adam shows them his phone. It’s a house, predictably, but a nice one. Old fashioned, and a little creeping looking. He likes it.

“She’s a bit of a fixer upper,” he says, admiring the house. “But the price is right, and look at all this character. Classic Queen Anne, with the original crown molding! Tons of space, lots of room for the three of us.” “Maybe a forth,” Barbara smiles brightly, and he matches her enthusiasm. She’s wanted to be a mom since he’s known her, six pretty amazing years, and while a lot has changed in that time, her maternal desire is as strong as ever.

“Maybe a fifth,” BJ grins, wiggling his eyebrows at her, and she flushes. “One from each of my boys.” She agrees, and she reaches across the table, for his hand, which he gives her. Adam takes her other hand, and they’re lost in that fantasy for a moment. He’s not actually sure he can give her what she wants, since he’s not exactly human, but Adam can, at least. And he gets to be part of it. Goddamn, he’s lucky.

“So? Tell us about this commercial you just did!” Adam smiles at him.

“S’not a big deal, just some radio ad,” He tells them, but he’s flattered that they’re always overly enthusiastic about his bit parts. “I heard you on the radio in the office, a few days ago!” Barbara remembers. “My coworkers couldn’t believe that was your real voice! You make such a good villain.” Of course he does. He keeps the smile on, because he knows Babs, knows that she means it in the sweetest, most lovey dovey way possible, but he’s never going to play the hero, because no hero sounds like a demon. He can’t get in his head about this, not right now. Not when the weather’s so nice, and he’s sitting across from the people he loves the most.

“I am the villain, babes,” he grins at her, and stands, leaning over to kiss and rub his stubble into her neck, until laughing, she pushes him away.

“Maybe you should come to the office with me, tomorrow,” Chuck says, over dinner. BJ resists the urge to stab himself through the eye with his fork. “M’not that into real estate, pop,” he tells him, and Emily smiles. “You know BJ’s an artist.” “I just think if he gave it a try,” Charles says, looking to his wife. “That he’d excel at it. I mean, good lord, all real estate is, is making deals and fast talking. He’s built for that sort of thing.” Betelgeuse grimaces. “But then I’d have to spend any amount of time around your coworkers, an’ those other big money creeps.” “Those big money creeps write the checks that paid for this house, BJ,” Chuck reminds him.

“I’ll be sure to send Maxie Dean a fruit basket.”

“Skip the fruit, just send that freak ass a basket of snakes,” Lydia says, and he grins. “Do not do that.” “Psh. Whatever, dad,” he pitches his voice into a teenage whine, and his father gives a dry smile in return. “So, that doctor appointment?” Lydia looks to Emily, and their mother smiles. “Got some scans done, no biggie. Checkups just suck. I’ve been having those migraines, recently, but the doctor didn’t seem to think it was a big deal.”

He’s staring down at his mother, in hospice, and those words echo around his mind. No big deal. The doctor didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. Just a couple migraines. Just some dizziness. Just some nausea. Just a tumor. Just another breather’s life, coming to an end.

Her bedroom is dark. The curtains are drawn. He’s sitting to her left, Lydia dozing to her right, and Emily is sleeping, dozing lightly. Chuck’s talking to the nurse in the hall. The last twelve months are a blur. He can’t remember individual days, can only remember when those test results came back. He remembers, vaguely, holding her hand during treatments. But there’s nothing any breather alive can do about the tumor, about the placement of it. At least she’s at home, at least she’s laying in her own bed. At least she’s not stuck in the hospital. Her sun colored hair is gone. Her smile is gone. That mischievous glint in her eyes is gone. All Emily does is sleep. All they can do is wait. read the rest of this chapter, plus the second one i couldn't help but post, over here, on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/32243065/chapters/79911316

[ibis-gt]

@roccy989

accidentally deleted the ask bc i have the brains god gave unto a beetle BUT luckily i'd taken a screenshot. have some wholesome family fun plus a small bonus scene at the end

**********

Cam, fifteen years old and fifteen feet tall, lay sprawled across the loveseat, stretching himself out as long as he could be. Since the loveseat was built for his thirty foot tall mother, he could just about press his hands to one side and his feet to the other if he really tried. He sighed. It would have to do. 

Growing up in a house built to a completely different scale wasn’t easy. When he was younger and about his father’s height, he could use the walkways and ladders built to human scale to get around. Now he just had to make do. He stared at the ceiling and tried to fight down the feeling that he would always be out of place.

“Hey, scoot over,” came a small voice from nearby. Cam turned his head and caught sight of his father, Felipe, leaning his crossed arms on top of the seat cushion, standing on the ladder set up against the loveseat. “You’re taking up the whole thing.”

Cam huffed and resumed his staring at the ceiling. “The armchair’s free. Sit there.”

“Yeah, but I wanna sit here. I don’t need much space, just scoot a little.” Felipe reached out and poked Cam’s head with a tiny finger. “Or I could sit on you.”

Cam shrugged. He was in a sour mood and he could tell his father was trying to cheer him up. “Whatever.”

“Okay, you brought this on yourself.” Felipe pushed himself up on top of the cushion and took a moment to get his balance on the soft surface. Then he stepped onto Cam’s chest and took a seat, treating his son like little more than furniture. “I’m not too heavy, am I?” he teased.

Cam fought the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. He was trying to sulk, here, couldn’t his dad respect that? Felipe was only about a third of Cam’s size, and being half giant gave Cam some extra innate strength, so to him his dad really wasn’t all that heavy. But Cam gave in and played along.

“Ugh, you’re squishing me!” He complained, putting a hand on Felipe’s side and pretending to try and fail to push him off.

“Oh nooo, Cam!” Felipe cried, falling over backwards and throwing a hand dramatically over his eyes. “What have I done! I’ve crushed my only son!”

Cam made strangled noises and flailed vaguely, being careful not to actually throw his dad off. He gurgled through his fabricated death throes, and finally lay still with a final “bleeehhh,” letting his head fall to the side and his tongue loll out. Felipe sat up again and turned to cup Cam’s face in his hands as best he could, letting out a wail of sorrow and pretending to sob over his son’s corpse.

“What are you two up to?” Anya asked, poking her head in from the hallway. “You sound like you’re wrestling a goose.”

Cam and Felipe caught each other’s eye, and that was it. They both burst into laughter, unable to keep up their facades any longer. Cam sat upright, sending his dad tumbling into his lap.

“Dad killed me,” he announced. “I’m a ghost now.”

“So sad,” Felipe said, running a finger down his cheek like he was tracing a tear track. “We’re gonna have to have another one, honey.”

“I’m planning to haunt you till the end of your days, so good luck,” Cam said, and wrapped his hands around his dad’s middle, hoisting him up in the air and waving him slightly side to side, making an “ooOOOoo” noise.

“Whoa! Check it out, I can fly!” Felipe held his arms out to either side like a bird’s wings and beamed at Anya, who snorted fondly at her two beloved idiots.

BONUS

i was going to combine this with another prompt but never ended up settling on a 'verse for it so here is a short dialogue only scene. it's cam and luther but which cam and luther? use yr imagination i leave it up to you

**********

“Ugh, you’re squishing me!”

“What? I’m not squishing you. This is what it would be like if I were squishing you.”

“Hhghk - That’s - not - better!”

“Don’t mind me, just gonna get comfy here, maybe take a little nap.”

“Don’t you dare - ow - get off me, you stupid - stop pretending to be asleep!”

“Can’t hear you. Very asleep.”

“I hate you.”

[backdroplock]

“Forfeiting My Mystique”by Kaveh Akbar

It is pretty to be sweet and full of pardon like a flower perfuming the hands that shred it, but all piety leads to a single point: the same paradise where dead lab rats go. If you live small you’ll be resurrected with the small, a whole planet of minor gods simpering in the weeds. I don’t know anyone who would kill anyone for me. As boys my brother and I would play love, me drawing stars on the soles of his feet, him tickling my back. Then we’d play harm, him cataloging my sins to the air, me throwing him into furniture. The algorithms for living have always been delicious and hollow, like a beetle husk in a spider’s paw. Hafez said fear is the cheapest room in a house, that we ought to live in better conditions. I would happily trade all my knowing for plusher carpet, higher ceilings. Some nights I force my brain to dream me Persian by listening to old home movies as I fall asleep. In the mornings I open my eyes and spoil the séance. Am I forfeiting my mystique? All bodies become sicker bodies. This is a kind of object permanence, a curse bent around our scalps resembling grace only at the tattered edges. It’s so unsettling to feel anything but good. I wish I was only as cruel as the first time I noticed I was cruel, waving my tiny shadow over a pond to scare the copper minnows. Rockabye, now I lay me down, et cetera. The world is what accumulates —  the mouth full of meat, the earth full of meat. My grandfather taught his parrot the ninety-nine holy names of God. Al-Muzil: The Humiliator. Al-Waarith: The Heir. Once, after my grandfather had been dead for a year, I woke from a dream (I was a sultan guzzling flies from a crystal boot) with his walking cane deep in my mouth. I kept sucking until I fell back asleep. There are only two bones in the throat, and that’s if you count the clavicle. This seems unsafe, overdelicate, like I ought to ask for a third. As if anyone living would offer. Corporeal friends are spiritual enemies, said Blake, probably gardening in the nude. Today I’m trying to scowl more, mismatch my lingerie. Nobody seems bothered enough. Some saints spent their whole childhoods biting their teachers’ hands and sprinkling salt into spider- webs, only to be redeemed by a fluke shock of grace just before death. May I feather into such a swan soon. The Book of Things Not to Touch gets longer every day: on one page, the handsome puppy bred only for service. On the next, my mother’s face. It’s not even enough to keep my hands to myself —  there’s a whole chapter about the parts of me that could get me into trouble. In Farsi, we say jaya shomah khallee when a beloved is absent from our table — literally: your place is empty. I don’t know why I waste my time with the imprecision of saying anything else, like using a hacksaw to slice a strawberry when I have a razor in my pocket. To the extent I am necessary at all, I am necessary like a roadside deer —  a thing to drive past, to catch the white of, something to make a person pause, say, look, a deer.

[beetlebitchywitch]

Vampire!Scarabee (The Conglomerate Beetlejuice Mafia AU) x F!Reader: A Venomous Endeavor

I promised I would post this and it took me awhile but HI HELLO HERE IT IS! I’m legitimately really really proud of this fic, it’s 18 pages and I just love writing Scarabee from the bottom of my heart, so I really hope y’all enjoy this!

Imma tag a few people like last time because I’m a slut for validation!

@realmonsterboyhours @go-commander-kim @vicunaburger @gegehaddock @justsassysworld @young-erstill @humanransome-note

WARNING: SMUT AHEAD

The night was gray and damp as you hurried down the rain-slicked streets of New Orleans, the streetlights reflecting golden orbs in the asphalt marred by the steady drizzle. Those who knew well enough to stay off these streets past dusk had long since turned in for the night, yet you could still hear the raucous laughter of late night merriment even blocks away from Bourbon Street. Unfortunately, a night of libations was not in your foreseeable future, and the further your steps took you away from the party center of the city, the more anxious you grew. Here, the streets were dark and winding, lit only with dim lamplight that flickered ominously as you passed, your coat clutched tightly across your chest as the rain continued to fall, soaking you nearly to the bone. Here, you knew, was where the magic that had long gone dormant in other parts of the city still thrived, electrifying the streets with an undercurrent of dark energy that practically swallowed you up, enticing you further down your path towards your sordid destination. It felt like ages before you finally reached a tall, foreboding mansion on the corner of two cobblestone streets with flickering candles lit in the windows, dancing as if to invite you closer. Above the door hung a simple wooden sign, with only a large, green beetle etched into the grain, glinting in the light of the street lamp as you approached. Looking down at the business card clutched tightly in your hand, you saw an identical beetle, right down to its metallic sheen. This was it. 

You paused for a moment, taking a few deep breaths to buck up your courage before lifting your hand to the door and rapping sharply, pulling away as if it had burned you the second you’d finished. Oh God, this was a terrible idea, you should’ve turned back ages ago, you couldn’t do this-

The door swung open. In the entryway was an incredibly tall man, broad and barrel-chested, staring down at you with a curious expression. You almost had to crane your head up just to look him in the eye, and God, those eyes, one green and one purple, both glowing dangerously in the darkness of the night. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away, nor could you seem to move your lips enough to form a proper sentence. You must’ve looked like a fish freshly plucked from the sea and floundering on the dock, and the longer you struggled to string together your words, the more shame rushed hotly into the pit of your belly. The man quirked an eyebrow, seemingly struggling not to smirk down at you. 

“Can I be of service to you, madame?” he asked formally, his deep voice floating richly through the air to reach you and somehow shocking you out of your reverie. You cleared your throat, steadying yourself enough to firmly meet his gaze.

“I’m looking for the home of Scarabee Shoggoth,” you said, handing the man the business card you’d been desperately clutching between your fingers. He took it gingerly, holding it up to examine it in the light. His eyes flickered back to you, traveling down to your feet and then back up your body as if examining you. 

“And what business do you have with my...employer?” he asked, his distrust evident in his tone. You tried not to let this deter you, instead choosing to steel your expression and hold your ground. 

“I’d like to tell Mr. Shoggoth that himself, thank you,” you said firmly, trying not to let the strangeness of his eyes dissolve your nerve as you held firm, even if your fingers still trembled clutching at the edges of your coat. “Could you show me to him, please?” 

Again, he paused, watching you carefully as he pocketed the business card. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to have found it, because with a heavy sigh, he stepped aside, beckoning you inside the mansion. You ducked in thankfully, the ends of your hair dripping onto the gorgeously polished hardwood no matter how quickly you tried to wring it out into your sleeve. Still trying to dry yourself off, you didn’t realize how close the servant had gotten to you until his hands suddenly fell on top of yours, pulling a soft gasp from your lips. They were gentle despite their size, and he made quick work of ridding you of your coat, hanging it on the coat rack just by the door. You were still damp, but drier without your outer layer, so you gave him a thankful nod, which he returned before guiding you slowly down the main hall. The house was quiet, with no other servants to be seen as you were led into a large living room with plush armchairs surrounding a roaring fireplace, likely for entertaining guests. There, in the chair closest to the fire, sat a man dressed in a fine suit jacket of golden paisley and a sweater of deep, rich purple. His eyes immediately met yours as you entered the room along with the servant- one green and one purple. Funny… You shook the thought away as the man rose to greet you, a somewhat amused smile gracing his lips. 

“Well, it’s quite a late hour for visitors,” he mused, swirling a glass of amber liquid in his hand as he looked to his servant. “Thank you, Wasp, that will be all.” 

Wasp. An interesting name, you thought. With a quick nod to both you and the man you now knew to be Scarabee Shoggoth, he was gone, his heavy footsteps fading away into nothing as he disappeared down the hall. Now, left alone with the man you’d walked nearly half an hour in the rain to see, your nervousness returned with a vengeance, swirling angrily in the pit of your stomach. He seemed to notice your sudden change in demeanor and chuckled beneath his breath, opening his arms welcomingly to you. 

“Ain’t no reason to tremble, cher,” he crooned, his accent sweetening his voice like honey as it lilted through the air. “Except for the rain, I suppose. Come, ma petite, take my seat by the fire. You looked chilled to the bone.” 

Despite your nervousness, you smiled gratefully, moving past him to slip into his plush seat only a few feet from the fireplace. You’d smelled his cologne as you passed, rich and spicy, and did your best not to shudder, choosing to focus on the wonderful way the heat seeped into your bones, already working to dry off your dampened clothes and hair. Scarabee moved to take the seat across from you, gazing at you curiously with those eyes that were so similar to Wasp’s. Perhaps they were brothers? But he had called him his employer…

“Your mind is workin’ rather fast, darlin’,” he quipped, interrupting your thoughts that indeed had been racing. He took a slow sip of his drink, not even pulling a face as the liquid likely burned on the way down. “Tell me. What business brings you to my home at such an hour?” 

God, you honestly hadn’t expected to get this far. Part of you suspected you’d be turned away at the door, but instead, you were seated comfortably by the fire, expected to explain yourself to the man that, at this point, was likely your only hope. 

“Well…” you began quietly, rubbing the pad of your thumb anxiously across the back of your other hands. “I’ll be frank, Mr. Shoggoth. I’m in need of some...otherworldly supplies, and I heard from some trusted sources that you were the man to see.”

Any fear you had of offending him melted away as he grinned almost wickedly, his strange eyes crinkling under the weight of his excited smile. Clearly, you’d heard correctly. 

“And if I am?” he asked smoothly, downing the rest of his drink before setting the glass firmly on a side table. “What sort of,” he chuckled beneath his breath, “otherworldly supplies could you possibly need, cher?” 

You took a deep breath. 

“...Vampire venom.” 

The room fell completely silent other than the sound of wood crackling from the heat of the fire. His eyes, almost comically wide, scanned you the same way Wasp’s had, trying to somehow glean more information simply from the sight of you. You shrunk beneath the weight of his gaze, feeling your cheeks flush with shame now that you’d finally admitted your need. You and he both knew what vampire venom was used for. 

“...Well I’ll be,” he said nearly breathlessly, running his fingers through his tousled hair. “I certainly wasn’t expectin’ this tonight.”

“If it’s too much to ask, Mr. Shoggoth, I can go!”

“Scarabee, please, ma cher,” he said insistently, wiping the look of shock off his face. “Ain’t nothin’ too much about it, not at all. I was simply surprised, is all. Goodness, what use could a young lady such as yourself have for vampire venom?” 

You knew, of course. Your need for the venom was utterly selfish, so selfish that you felt ashamed to even attempt to admit it, but you knew Mr. Sho-Scarabee would not simply hand over a vial of venom without knowledge of its intended use. After all, the effects of it were known to be rather powerful- the harm that could come to his reputation if it was misused could be irreversible. With a heavy sigh, you met his gaze, your anxious hands finally still in your lap. 

“There’s a man,” you began softly. “We’re betrothed, you see. And I know it’s rather improper to...know him before we’re wed, but I needed to know what he would be like before I was bound to him forever. The first time we tried...I couldn’t. Nothing he did could please me, nothing at all, and I think there might be something wrong with me, so-”

“So you suspect the venom could help...move things along, as it were,” he interjected, nodding with understanding. “I see your dilemma, darl’. Rest assured, I have what you seek, and plenty of it…” His lips suddenly quirked up in a small smirk. “For a price, of course.”

Ah, and there it was. The price. You knew that in dealing with a man such as this, there was no telling what he might ask of you in exchange for what you needed. You’d stashed as much money as you could in your purse, not concerned in the slightest with how much he’d ask of you, but...something about the look in his eye told you that money was not what he was after. 

“And...what price would that be, Scarabee?” you finally asked, his name feeling warm and pleasant on your lips despite the fear coursing through your veins. He simply smiled, rising from his chair to take hold of a gilded cane, taking slow steps with it in his hands until he reached the fireplace, gazing into the golden flames. 

“Ain’t nothin’ to be too worried about, cher,” he said softly, his eyes flitting over to yours. “Just a little experiment, is all.” 

Experiment? You were expecting your engagement ring, your dog, perhaps your firstborn child, but an experiment? Given the nature of his activities, the prospect both intrigued and alarmed you. What use could he possibly have for you as a test subject? Seeing your apprehension, he chuckled, leaning against the wall with one arm. 

“Does that frighten you, petite?” he asked curiously, a soft grin playing on his lips. “Ain’t no reason to worry. I simply wish to satisfy a sudden curiosity of mine. It will only take a minute, and you won’t even have to leave that chair...I must admit, I am intrigued by your apparent inability to experience arousal. If you don’t mind, I’d simply like to give you a once over.” 

He watched with muted glee as you mulled over his offer. You were legitimately concerned that there was something wrong with you, and if it would only take a minute...well, possibly getting an answer to your problem seemed too good to be true, with a short exam a comparably small price to pay for something that could help you a great deal. You looked up to meet his gaze, your stomach tightening when you saw him staring down at you intently, awaiting your answer with one eyebrow quirked. With a shaky sigh, you nodded your consent, trying not to shiver when you saw the white hot excitement glowing in his eyes.

“Good choice, cher,” he hummed, setting his cane aside and approaching you slowly, carefully. Your hands clutched absentmindedly at the plush arms of the chair, trying to keep yourself from shying away from him as he knelt down in front of you, your eyes now at equal level. There was something intense in those strange eyes, something that made you barely keep from shivering as they dragged over your skin, reddened from the heat of the fire and the blush quickly crawling up from your chest. His smile was encouraging, but tinged with a hint of wickedness, one hand reaching out to cup your cheek with a trepidatious touch. “This alright?”

Your breath coming a bit faster now, you nodded, gulping as his thumb rubbed a soothing circle into your cheek. His hands were surprisingly cold, especially given the way your skin had heated from the roaring fire, and it genuinely felt rather soothing, given the circumstances. You relaxed only slightly in the chair, but it still caught his attention, pulling a low chuckle from deep within his chest.

“That’s it, ma cherie,” he crooned, letting his hands drag from his cheek down over your jaw and to your neck, feeling your pulse point thrumming against your skin as your heart began to beat even faster. “Just relax for me now.” 

You did your best to obey him, sinking firmly into the armchair as his other hand joined the first, trailing delicately down your bicep and down toward your wrist while rubbing his thumb across the front of your throat. His touch was featherlight and cold, scraping delicately over your skin as he simply explored, lingering at whatever patch of skin would cause you to shiver when touched. Christ, what was he doing?

“Somethin’ the matter, darlin’?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. When you met his gaze, you shivered at its intensity, feeling as if it would set you alight from the inside out if his touch didn’t beat him there first. You didn’t know what he was playing at...but you wanted to.

“N-No,” you stammered unconvincingly, struggling not to press more firmly into his hands. He chuckled lowly, leaning in close to press a slow, lingering kiss to your cheek. Despite the coolness of his lips, your skin felt like it was on fire.

“Good,” he whispered, letting his lips linger there to feel you tremble beneath them. His first hand remained clasped loosely around your throat while the other dropped to your thigh and, oh God, trailed firmly down to your knee, his thumb curling around to press into your inner thigh as he dragged his hand firmly down your leg. You could feel it so much easier now that there was nothing between you and him but a set of nylon stockings, and you couldn’t stop yourself from shivering again, the sensation sending heat pooling in your core as he chuckled again, his breath rushing hotly across your skin. Oh God, this was wrong, this was so wrong, you were engaged for Christ’s sake, but...when he pressed yet another long, sensual kiss to your cheek, you didn’t care. You didn’t care one bit, not when his hand was dragging back up your inner thigh, his nails scraping deliciously against the nylon as the tips of his fingers just barely, barely grazed the edge of your panties. Any concerns you had for propriety flew out the window at that glorious, barely-there touch, because no man had ever made you feel this way, and the more he touched you, the more you craved to be touched. You could barely even feel your engagement ring weighing on your finger when he trailed his hand back up with a wide, dangerous grin, the tips of his fingers pausing for a moment before pressing firmly against your panties. He pulled back just a bit to watch in delight as you finally let out a low, hushed moan, the scent of your arousal filling his nose and telling him all he needed to know. 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, chaton,” he murmured playfully, his eyes alight with glee at the sight of you. “But there’s nothing wrong with you.”

You paused, your mind so heavily fogged with these new sensations that you barely registered what he was trying to tell you. There was nothing wrong with you...oh. There was nothing wrong with you. Then that meant-

“But...the venom…” you said, cutting off with a whimper when his fingers pressed little circles through your panties, grinning with delight as you struggled not to let your eyes slide shut.

“The venom cannot change who you are attracted to,” he explained softly, his other hand curling more intently around your throat. “It can only intensify what is already there. But, if you’re still curious…”

He moved away just slightly, enough for you to be able to gaze into his eyes. He let his mouth open just slightly, holding your gaze to gauge your every reaction as slowly, two identical, razor sharp fangs distended, glinting in the golden light of the fire. Your eyes widened, your heart pounding away so violently in your chest that he could practically hear the blood rushing through you. His grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly, holding you firmly and forcing you to take in what he truly was. 

“...Then how would you like a taste from the source?”

You couldn’t help yourself. You shuddered violently in his arms, your eyes finally sliding shut with a whimper. The thought of those fangs sinking into your skin frightened you, and that fear somehow intensified your arousal, the two intermingling in your body until they were one and the same. His fingers were still against you, yet you were ready to beg until you were hoarse for them to take you apart. And if all of this could be wrought from you with only a few simple touches, you could hardly imagine how you’d feel with his venom coursing through your veins, your blood staining his lips scarlet… 

“Got somethin’ to say, darl’?” he asked, the sound of his voice dragging over your skin like velvet, soothing and warm and everything you didn’t know you’d needed until this very moment. You had half a mind to tear your ring from your finger if this was the kind of pleasure a man could bring you without even taking your clothes off...and oh, taking your clothes off…

“Scarabee,” you murmured, fighting the fog in your mind to open your eyes, meeting his with desperation. “Please.” 

And with that, you let your head lean to the side, willingly baring the side of your neck to him. 

In less than a second, he was pulling you out of the chair and into his lap, nosing sensuously up the column of your neck and inhaling deeply. The way your heart was pounding, he could smell your blood rushing just below the surface of your skin, and God did it hunger him. He pressed a slow, almost apologetic kiss to your pulse point before baring his fangs and piercing your neck, groaning gutturally at the hot rush of blood across his tongue. You cried out sharply, the pain present for only a brief moment before you were overwhelmed with a delicious heat, spreading from where his fangs were sunk firmly into your neck all the way down to your fingertips and toes. You shuddered as he fed from you, pumping more venom into your system with every second, the pleasant heat beginning to pool in your center where his fingers had begun rubbing circles again. You bucked into his hand, whimpering as the pleasure was intensified with every drop of venom entering your system, growing nearly unbearable by the time he pulled off, licking over your wound with a hushed groan. When he pulled away, you shuddered at the sight of your blood on his lips, a single drop running towards his chin before he licked it away, leaving only a dull red stain in its wake. You couldn’t help it, your hands were clutching at his suit jacket and forcing it off of him, throwing it to the side before grabbing at his sweater and pulling him in for a kiss. The coppery taste made your mind swim, but you really didn’t mind, especially when the tip of his fang just barely pricked your tongue as you swept it languidly over his lower lip. He deepened the kiss with a groan, his hands wrapping firmly around your waist as your tongues met and tangled deliciously. You pulled away, your breath coming in short pants as you ran your fingers up into his hair, intoxicated by the way his strange eyes bored into you, staring down at your body as if he couldn’t stand another second of it being hidden from his gaze.

“How do you want this?” he panted, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. “God, you fucking tasted delicious, cher…” He trailed off with a heady groan, burying his face in your neck again to lick up the last remnants of your blood where it seeped from your wound. 

“Scarabee,” you whimpered, the barely-there pain only intensifying the pleasure that was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. “I...I don’t care, however you want, anything, just please!” 

Your desperate pleas broke down any self control he had left in Scarabee, and with a growl, he had you on your back, laid out on furs by the fireplace that was starting to diminish behind you. You fumbled wildly with your clothing, struggling to force down your stocking when with a snap of his fingers, you were bare, your skin glowing in the firelight with his equally bare body hovering over you, the paleness of his skin only now striking you now that you knew what he was. You expected to be self-conscious given your sudden nudity, but the pleasure aching in your core was only strengthening, so you were quick to spread your legs around him, the scent of your arousal reaching his nose and making his eyes roll back into his skull. 

“Ain’t you just a pretty sight, mon amour,” he crooned, leaning down to begin kissing from the bite in your neck to down between your breasts, his fangs scraping deliciously across your skin. “I’d bet my finest moonshine that you’ll be even prettier when we’re done.” 

God, you didn’t want to be done, you’d never want to be done, not when his mouth continued its hot trail of kisses down to between your legs, where you pussy lay bare and wanting. He groaned softly at the sight, unable to tear his eyes away as his fingers began to explore, trailing to your entrance to gather your wetness on his fingertip. He grinned wickedly at the way you shuddered from such a simple touch, the venom clearly working its magic on you given how wet you already were for him. Holding your gaze, he brought his fingers to his lips, cleaning your slick off of them and moaning at the sweet taste. No matter where he fed from you, you were delicious. Hungry for more, he parted your legs further and ducked his head, dragging the flat of his tongue up the length of your pussy and groaning brokenly at the taste. You threw your head back with a cry, the coolness of his tongue feeling absolutely incredible against your superheated core. 

“By the time I’m done with you,” he snarled, quickly pressing two fingers into your waiting entrance and marveling at the tightness as he slid them inside, “You’re gonna be tossin’ that ring in the fireplace.” 

You let out a wild cry at the mere thought, the ring suddenly weighing heavily on your finger as he drove his fingers into your pussy, angling them just right while he stretched you out, readying you for the cock hanging heavily between his legs. His fingers were thick, the stretch paired with the way his fingertips drove perfectly into your G spot sending stars dancing in your eyes. You would’ve been embarrassed by how wet you were for him were it not for how fucking gone you were, shivering under the intensity of his gaze as he watched you come undone simply from his fingers. 

“Bet that sorry excuse for a man can’t make you feel like this, can he?” he snarled, curling his fingers just right and revelling in your broken moans. “Come on, darlin’, tell me how this feels.” 

“Ungh, it-oh God-it feels so good,” you cried out, nearly screaming when his mouth descended once more to latch onto your clit, sucking greedily at the sensitive nub while he slipped a third finger inside you. You suspected you’d need it, given his size. “Fu-hngh-uck, never felt like this befo-oh!” You whined at the feeling of him slowly removing his fingers, his mouth leaving your clit to suck them clean. He pulled off, his smoldering gaze turning to you as he crawled back up your body, both hands reaching under your thighs to wrap them around his waist, his cock now lined up perfectly with your aching pussy. 

“Mmm…” he hummed, cupping your cheek lovingly before moving to hook his thumb into your mouth, pulling it open and pressing it down against your tongue. “Let me hear you now, cher.” And with those strange eyes watching you intently, he pressed inside you, a hot bolt of pleasure rushing up your spine as his cock stretched you more than his fingers ever could. You whimpered against his thumb, the vibrations making him grin wickedly as he bottomed out in a single thrust, his fangs bared as he bit down on his lower lip at the feeling of your tight, wet heat surrounding him. He paused, watching you for any sign of discomfort while you breathed slowly, adjusting to an entirely unfamiliar stretch. The venom helped a great deal, considering this was your first time, so within a minute, you felt comfortable enough to gaze up at him from beneath your lashes and wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking sensually with a clear invitation shimmering in your eyes. Scarabee’s eyes widened at the feeling before his mouth spread around growled laugh, his lips replacing his hand as he captured yours in a desperate kiss. He distracted you with his kiss while slowly pulling out, waiting until he was nearly about to slip out before pushing back in with a rough trust, groaning brokenly at the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him. He picked up a rough, fast pace, hilting with each thrust and using his grip on your hips to pull you down onto him. Resting his forehead on yours, his breath puffed out against your lips as he panted, little groans intermingling with the heavy breaths as he lost himself in the feeling of you. 

“Scara-ah!” you cried out, letting out little whimpers against his lips as his cock dragged so fucking perfectly inside you, his girth stretching you fucking deliciously while the head of his cock angled up to drive into your G spot with each desperate thrust. You combed your fingers through his hair, pressing little kisses to his lips between every broken whimper. “O-Oh God, please…” 

“That’s it, darl’,” he crooned, holding tightly to you as he took you harder, intoxicated by the sound of his cock thrusting into your nearly dripping pussy. “Beg for me, scream for me…”

And scream you would. The harder he took you, the louder you were, until he was thrusting into you with every ounce of strength he had and you had your head thrown back, your mouth wide open around loud cries that echoed throughout the room. The venom coursing through you was amplifying every thrust of his cock inside you, every press of his lips to your overheated skin, every drag of his fingertips across your hips as he took you. It was perfect, it was all too much, and you were quickly barreling towards a peak you’d yet to experience. God, you needed it, you needed him-

“Scarabee, please,” you whimpered, clutching tightly at his hair as the drag of his cock threatened to send you over the edge. “Oh God, I- I think I’m gonna cum, I need to, pleasepleaseplease let me cum!” 

Your begging words only succeeded in sending Scarabee into a tailspin, one hand reaching down to circle your clit with a desperate snarl. 

“Cum,” he commanded roughly, and oh, just that little extra stimulation had you clenching around him and screaming out your climax, clinging to him with all your might as the pleasure raced through you violently, your entire body trembling in his arms. The feeling of you fucking milking him with your own orgasm had him growling out his own, not being able to keep himself from sinking his fangs into the other side of your neck, letting the rush of blood over his lips only intensify his pleasure. You cried out at the brief moment of pain before, oh God, the new venom was elongating your orgasm, sending waves of pleasure through you so strongly that you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, the intensity only beginning to die down after a solid minute and a half of you shaking like a leaf in Bee’s arms, pumped so full of his cum and his venom that you thought you might burst. When it finally dissipated, you slumped down to the floor, panting harshly and letting out a little wince as he pulled his softening cock from your pussy, a rush of cum quickly following and rolling down the cleft of your ass and to the floor. Bee settled down next of you, propped up on one elbow as he watched you come down from the most intense, and only, orgasm you’d ever had. 

“Are we feelin’ better now, cher?” he asked cheekily, stroking a hand through your sweat dampened hair. You could only nod, eyes fixed solely on the ceiling above as you struggled to come back into your own head. Christ, he’d practically torn you to pieces. It was only when you’d fully come back down to Earth that you felt the suddenly heavy weight of your ring on your finger. Glancing down at it as it sparkled in the dim firelight, you knew what you had to do. You looked Bee in the eye as you slid it from your finger, propping yourself up on one elbow to watch as you tossed it into the flames, watching it darken with ash and feeling no remorse. When you turned back to Scarabee, his eyes were widened, his mouth hanging open to reveal those crimson-stained fangs.

“Ma cherie, when I said that, I didn’t entirely mean it,” he said in hushed awe. You flopped back down to the floor, still panting and starting to feel the gentle soreness between your legs. You sighed, meeting his gaze regrettably. 

“He’s been fooling around with my cousin for a month now,” you admitted, your eyes scrunching shut at the thought. “I...I thought if I could manage to be with him, he’d-” 

“He’d want you,” he finished, a sudden look of understanding crossing his face. “And that’s why you needed the venom...goodness, I can’t say I know what that feels like, but…” His eyes traveled over the ring smoldering in the flames. “...I suppose that doesn’t bother you now, does it?” 

“Not in the slightest,” you said breathily, shifting a bit and wincing at the somewhat pleasant soreness in your body. “I...It’s a bit late. And I walked nearly half an hour to get here.” 

“Well,” Scarabee said, almost shy as he cleared his throat. “I have a guest room that I could have prepared for you...unless, of course, you’d like to join me in my bed.” 

You let a soft smile grace your lips as you nodded, nuzzling into his chest. The thought of sharing a nice warm bed with Scarabee was suddenly the only thing you could possibly want, and he simply chuckled, holding you close and enjoying the warmth of your post-sex body. 

“I usually don’t sleep at night, but...for you, cher, I suppose I could make the exception...cher?” 

When you didn’t answer, he glanced down at you, smiling softly at the sight of you, eyes slid shut and nuzzling unconsciously into him as sleep had clearly taken you. Careful not to wake you, he slipped his arms under your body, whisking you off to his luxurious bedroom for the night.

You could talk about the smoldering remains of your ring in the morning. 

[peppersonironi]

For @duketectivecomics‘s Duke Week Day Five: Leadership (A day late, I know, but I had wifi trouble)

Summary: Nightwing offers Signal a chance to lead a small group for a mission. Duke is wary, but accepts the challenge. He proves to be a rather great leader.

Notes: Takes place after Season Two of Young Justice, and ignores Season Three (I still haven’t seen it, unfortunately).

“So will you do it?” Duke looked over at Dick, who had decided to brave the day as Nightwing in order to ask a favor.

“I’m not sure, Nightwing, That’s your team, and I’m perfectly happy taking care of Gotham.”

Dick pouted and dramatically flung himself over the nearest gargoyle. “You sure? I could really use the help. Don't you want to lend aid to your poor, poor brother?”

“You are literally a billionaire.”

“Ha ha, Signal. You know what I mean.”

Duke sighed and joined Dick beside the gargoyle. “Yeah, I do. Are you sure you need me? Why not Tim? Steph? Heck, even Damian would love the chance to boos those guys around.”

Dick sighed. “I told you, The mission occurs at the same time as one on the opposite side of the world, which I already have Tim scheduled for. Steph is woking a case in Hong Kong with Cass. And Frankly, I doubt the Team would appreciate Damian's … style of leadership. This one is smaller, and less of a priority. I have some of the newbies and more older members on it, but none of them have experience with leading stealth missions.”

“So give one of them the experience!” Duke was getting a bit exasperated. Why did Dick think it would be a good idea to handle a mission on a covert team he'd never even met before?

“It's not that simple.” Dick frowned. “This mission is time sensitive, and delicate. It really does need someone with experience leading it, but all my best people are elsewhere.”

Duke tilted his head, considering. “Why me?”

Dick laughed. “Why NOT you? Seriously, Signal. You handled a whole group of Robins, by yourself. No Batman. You proved yourself, and you've earned respect. I trust you with this.”

Duke considered, thinking through everything Dick had said. “Alright,” He sighed, “What's the mission?”

*****

“Team, I'd like you to meet Signal. He'll be joining you on the mission, as well as over seeing things.” Nightwing stood at the front of the group of heroes, turning to where Duke had just come in from the zeta tubes.

Duke walked forward, surveying the group. “ 'Sup?” He asked, unsure of what else to say.

“Signal, meet Beast Boy, Kid Flash, Wonder Girl, and Blue Beatle.”

Duke nodded and extended his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“I've been waiting to meet you for so long, dude!” Kid Flash said, racing forward to shake Duke's hand. “I've heard all about you, but the dates on when you actively joined the guys in Gotham were murky, and since I couldn't ask Nightwing or Robin – wait, does that mean Tim's no longer Robin? Why didn't he say anything? Unless the history books got it wrong, in which case woah, sorry I said anything – anyway  it was a bit of a tricky situation. Of course, I probably could have looked it up on the internet, but that feels like cheating y'know?”

Duke blinked several times. “Um, thanks, I guess? I didn't really think anyone bothered with me.”

“Are you kidding?!” Kid Flash was literally bouncing at this point. “You're one of the coolest bats! You patrol during the day, for one thing, plus your costume is pretty crash. Not to mention you're literally the only meta human Batman has ever let stay in Gotham! Although Black Bat might be one, no one was ever really clear on that.”

“You're a meta human?!” Beast Boy asked, shoving Kid Flash to the side. “Seriously? And you work with Batman?! How does that work?”

Duke laughed. “Yes, I am a meta. No, Black Bat isn't. She's just awesome. And I was Batman's protege before I gained my powers. When we found out, we kinda just rolled with it.”

“Translation,” Nightwing added, “He grumbled a bit before deciding that the rule only really covers Green Lantern.”

“Didn't it always though?” Duke asked his brother.

Nightwing laughed. “Probably. He never seemed to keen on Superman either, to be honest.”

Duke frowned. “Wait, then why did he stop by for tea last week?”

“Wait, he did?! Why wasn't I invited?!”

Duke shook his head and tsked. “Downside to no longer living at the house dude, that's all I'm saying.”

The Team was looking back and forth at the exchange. “Wait,” Blue Beatle said, holding up his hands. “Superman comes over for tea, at Batman's house, which you live in, but Nightwing doesn't anymore?”

“Yup,” Both of the bats said.

Blue Beatle blinked, then nodded. “Alright then.”

“What are your powers,” Wonder girl asked.

“Light stuff, basically,” Duke said. “I can see in several different light spectrums, lets me do a bunch of stuff, like limited x-ray vision. I can also 'replay' what happens in rooms, due to the light residue. I can also see a few seconds into the future.”

Everyone blinked at him.

“Not to mention you can control shadows!” Nightwing added helpfully.

Duke cringed. “Yeah, but that's new. I'm not really familiar with it.”

Everyone stared, except Kid Flash, who just continued bouncing.

“Alright,” Nightwing said after a moment, “Let's get on with the briefing.”

*****

The mission was simple: Infiltrate a high rise owned by Lex Luther in San Francisco, and retrieve information that was being stored on a hard drive. Said drive was only going to be present in the tower for twelve hours, nine of which Lex was also present. Hence the need for a small team, and the precise timing.

The infiltration was scheduled at 1400 hours, after Lex had left for lunch, and before the buyer of the information had arrived. Duke had been given the plans of the building, and multiple suggested strategies. One of these strategies was modified by Duke, and was what led Beast Boy (who insisted Duke call him Garth) turning into a fly in order to get through the vents.

“Are you sure I can't go for something more fun?” Garth asked on the way to San Francisco, “Like a snake? Maybe even a monkey!”

“No,” Duke had said, “A fly is the best option, it's the least likely to set off motion sensors.” At the disappointed face, however, Duke conceded, “You can be a monkey when you open the side entrance.” Garth had whooped in triumph, and Duke had to crack a smile.

Once Beast Boy had managed to get into the building, he made his way to the main security center and dismantled whatever detection systems Lex had in place, allowing Kid Flash (Bart, Duke learned) and Signal himself to make their entrance. The trio made their way to Lex's office, only needing to take out a single guard, and retrieve the hard drive from one of Lex's many (There were like thirty, sheesh) safes in the room. The cracking of said safe took longer than initially planned, but Duke managed to hack the system in time for the guard change. Boy was he glad Tim taught him how to hack.

With the target in hand, they made their way out to the back alley, where Blue Beatle (Jaime, he said his name was) and Wonder Girl (Cassie) were keeping watch. They were almost caught at one point, but Duke saw the guards coming and quickly shoved his teammates into a closet, along with himself. In the end, two guards who were lagging behind on their shift change intercepted them, but Blue Beetle knocked one out, and Wonder Girl got the other.

“Took you long enough,” Cassie said with a grin when she saw the trio returning.

Duke grinned right back at her. “You have any trouble?”

“If these two count as trouble,” She replied, kicking one of the goons.

“Sounds crash!” Kid Flash replied. “How about we get out of here before something blows up?”

Duke frowned. “Why would anything blow up?”

Everyone turned and gave him a look. “You'd be surprised,” Blue Beetle said.

“Better not jinx it, then.” Duke spook, and the team made their escape.

*****

“ - Complete insubordination! Do you know what you did?!”

Duke paused at the doors, looking in on the meeting room where he and the others were supposed to go for their debriefing. Turns out, the other part of the Team was already there, and being chewed out by Batman himself.

“This was supposed to be a covert mission, and you go and get the entire building blown up!” Huh, they weren't kidding about explosions, Duke thought. “You clearly disobeyed the mission parameters, opting instead to joyride with the robots you were sent to destroy! Do you know how many lives you put in danger?!”

“It wasn't our fault!” Tim Drake, better known as Red Robin (Though Duke thought Bart mention that he still went as Robin here? Boy, Damian was gonna be pissed!) told Batman. “The robots got activated remotely, and dragged us along. In the end, they self destructed!”

Batman sighed, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “I let Kaldur go one one vacation …”

“You can at least acknowledge we got the job done.” Tim said, and Bruce sighed once more. He looked so tired, and Duke could barely hold in a grin. From the scared faces of everyone else in the room, Duke gathered that no one else found it quite so funny.

“Yes, you got it done,” Batman conceded, “But your methods are far from acceptable! All of you need to reevaluate how you-”

“It's almost kinda funny when I'm not the one being chewed out!” Duke turned to find Jaime and Garth standing in the door beside him, the latter of whom had spoken.

“Oh it's definitely funny,” Duke replied. “I've had front row seats to these types of things since I joined the bats. I”m almost never the one in trouble. Surprised it's Tim, though. Usually Nightwing.”

Both of their eyes widened. “Nightwing is the one in trouble?”

“Yup. We – the other bats and I – have a running bet on how long the rants last. B's best record is two hours, fifty minutes, thirty-seven seconds. It was right after Nightwing spray painted the bat-suit glittery pink, though I'm pretty sure Spoiler helped.”

Jaime opened and closed his mouth for a few moments. “Wow.”

Just then, Bart and Cassie showed up. “Are we late for the debriefing?” The latter asked.

Duke shrugged and pointed into the room, where Batman had moved onto a rant about aerial combat and unneeded fuel. “Nope, There's is running late.”

The group turned and went back to viewing the scene before them. After another fifteen minutes, Batman said. “I have another team coming in soon for debriefing, so let's hope that they were at least partially competent.”

Duke thought that would be as good a place as any to make an entrance, so he brought his fist to his mouth and coughed a bit.

Everyone turned slowly to find the grinning group standing at the doorway.

“Signal,” Batman said, and Duke knew he was relieved, “Did you just get back?”

“We've been standing here for twenty minutes, B. Seriously, your lecturing skills have not gone unpracticed.”

Batman sighed, putting his fingers on the bridge of his nose, not a sight unfamiliar to Duke, but from the gaping mouths, Duke was pretty sure no one else thought anything about the exchange was normal. “Please tell me your mission went well?”

“Without a hitch,” Duke replied grinning. “We got in and out easily. Had a tad of trouble with hacking the safe, but we got it open.” Duke turned to Tim, “Thanks for those lessons last week, they really paid off.”

Tim grinned “Welcome. Wanna continue when we get home?”

Duke nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Were there any complications?” Batman growled.

“We took out three guards quietly, and avoided two more that I saw coming right before they turned a corner, but other than that, no.”

Batman glared suspiciously down at Duke, who only smiled. “Any explosions?”

Duke frowned. “What is it with this team and explosions?” Batman glared some more, “Calm down B, no explosions. Everything was quiet.”

Batman nodded. “Good job, Signal. You dropped off the target with Nightwing, I assume?” At Duke's nod, he continued, “You get head back to Gotham, then. Finish your report in the cave, and finish up your patrol if you want. I'll make a note on the file if we ever need you again.” He paused, and looked critically at Duke. “Would you?”

Duke looked back at Garth, Jaime, Bart, and Cassie, who were all nodding their heads furiously. “Sure,” Duke said, “Why not?”

[homosaretherealforbiddenfruit]

Forfeiting My Mystique

By Kaveh Akbar

It is pretty to be sweet

and full of pardon like

a flower perfuming the

hands that shred it, but

all piety leads to a single

point: the same paradise

where dead lab rats go.

If you live small you’ll

be resurrected with the

small, a whole planet

of minor gods simpering

in the weeds. I don’t know

anyone who would kill

anyone for me. As boys

my brother and I

would play love, me

drawing stars on

the soles of his feet,

him tickling my back.

Then we’d play harm,

him cataloging my sins

to the air, me throwing

him into furniture.

The algorithms for living

have always been

delicious and hollow,

like a beetle husk in a

spider’s paw. Hafez said

fear is the cheapest room

in a house, that we ought

to live in better

conditions. I would

happily trade all my

knowing for plusher

carpet, higher ceilings.

Some nights I force

my brain to dream me

Persian by listening

to old home movies

as I fall asleep. In the

mornings I open my eyes

and spoil the séance. Am I

forfeiting my mystique?

All bodies become sicker

bodies. This is a kind of object

permanence, a curse bent

around our scalps resembling

grace only at the tattered

edges. It’s so unsettling

to feel anything but good.

I wish I was only as cruel as

the first time I noticed

I was cruel, waving my tiny

shadow over a pond to scare

the copper minnows.

Rockabye, now I lay me

down, et cetera. The world

is what accumulates — 

the mouth full of meat,

the earth full of meat.

My grandfather

taught his parrot

the ninety-nine holy

names of God. Al-Muzil:

The Humiliator. Al-Waarith:

The Heir. Once, after

my grandfather had been

dead for a year, I woke

from a dream (I was a

sultan guzzling flies

from a crystal boot) with

his walking cane deep

in my mouth. I kept sucking

until I fell back asleep.

There are only two bones

in the throat, and that’s if you

count the clavicle. This

seems unsafe, overdelicate,

like I ought to ask for

a third. As if anyone

living would offer.

Corporeal friends are

spiritual enemies, said

Blake, probably gardening

in the nude. Today I’m trying

to scowl more, mismatch

my lingerie. Nobody

seems bothered enough.

Some saints spent their

whole childhoods biting

their teachers’ hands and

sprinkling salt into spider-

webs, only to be redeemed

by a fluke shock

of grace just before

death. May I feather

into such a swan soon.

The Book of Things

Not to Touch gets longer

every day: on one

page, the handsome puppy

bred only for service. On

the next, my mother’s

face. It’s not even enough

to keep my hands to myself — 

there’s a whole chapter

about the parts of me

that could get me

into trouble. In Farsi,

we say jaya shomah khallee

when a beloved is absent

from our table — literally:

your place is empty.

I don’t know why I waste

my time with the imprecision

of saying anything else,

like using a hacksaw

to slice a strawberry when

I have a razor in my

pocket. To the extent I am

necessary at all, I am

necessary like a roadside deer — 

a thing to drive past, to catch

the white of, something

to make a person pause,

say, look, a deer.

[monsterlovinghours]

Hey mom? Who are the 5 Mafia!Beej leaders and their bases? they sound really cool!

hoo boy i am so glad you asked i actually made an outline for each of these suave motherfuckers

Italian Don: Scarafaggio, or Gio

Fronts: Private museum owner. Deals in black market art and artifacts.

Speaks: Italian

Appearance:

-Hair slicked back, always one little errant strand lying across his forehead. Black at the roots, green at the tips.

-Wears impeccably tailored suits, pinstriped in black and white. Occasionally they’ll be a red scarf in his breast pocket or a red tie. 

-All five have a pinky ring with a beetle etched into it. 

-Gold tooth

-Wears a lot of jewelry; expensive watch, lots of rings, etc. 

-Owns a lot of leather driving gloves, even though he never drives himself anywhere.

-Usually carries a cane, prefers dark wood with silver or glass heads.

Personality:

-Rather hot-headed, shortest fuse of the three

-Goes absolutely feral on people who disrespect his s/o or his business partners. 

-Doesn’t really do displays of affection, has a hard time expressing emotions.

-His love language is gifts, he’ll absolutely shower his s/o in presents.

-Has a taste for luxury and decadence.

Attributes/Skills:

-Best at first aid/patching up and bandaging wounds. Has sewn his own gashes before. Lots of scars underneath the clothing, though none on his face. Yet.

-Sings beautifully, has this rich baritone croon. Loves to sing a duet with his s/o

-Drinks scotch, brandy, cognac. Always the top shelf stuff.

-Smokes Cuban cigars. 

-Actually a decent cook, but never does it unless s/o is doing it with him.

-Can do the Jitterbug and the Charleston. Refuses to unless his s/o is his partner. Slow dances are just swaying with your hand in his and his palm pressing to your back.

-Quite a good artist, hides his talent.

Russian Don: “Zhuk.”

Front: Luxury resort owner, general investor. Deals in illegal firearms.

Speaks: Russian

Appearance:

-Tall. Very tall. Barrel-chested, broad-shouldered. Built like a brick house.

-Longer hair, about down to the back of his neck. Not long enough to pull into a ponytail, but long enough to play with. Like Scara’s, his hair is black at the roots, but there aren’t much roots showing through. Most of his hair is green.

-Wears almost all black all the time, very monochromatic. Black turtlenecks under Armani suit jackets. Very sleek.

-Has tiny rectangular reading glasses. His eyesight is fine, it’s all just part of the appearance. Makes him look intelligent.

-Tiny streaks of silver at his temples that don’t change with his mood ring hair. 

-Aside from the pinky ring, he sometimes wears a gold chain. Has a nondescript but very expensive watch around his wrist. 

Personality:

-The most even-tempered and calm of the three. Exudes an air of dignity and refinement. 

-Slow to anger, though when angered is absolutely the most fearsome.

-Does not tolerate self degradation. 

-Definitely has the most top energy of the three.

-Despite his size, he's incredibly gentle with his s/o, both in touch and in tone. 

-Protective. Has a tendency to hover if he's worried.

-Is not shy about showing affection or telling s/o exactly how he feels

-Authoritative. Expects to be obeyed.

-Showers his lover in praise, in a mix of English and Russian. The only trouble is, the praise and the dirty talk are spoken in the same gentle tone, so his s/o doesnt know which it is until he lapses back into English.

Attributes/Skills:

-Drinks vodka almost exclusively. Kind of a snob about his liquor. 

-Smokes hand-rolled cigarettes out of a little chased-silver case he keeps tucked in his coat pocket

-Plays the piano. Can also play the harp, but he’s not as good at it.

-Has a soft spot for animals, dogs in particular. 

-Is the most partial to baths of the three, most likely has his own persona sauna and bathhouse

-Can ballroom dance; despite his size, he's quite graceful.

-Has a scar across his left eyebrow.

-Very much into the predator/prey play, though he doesnt have much a tolerance for games or teasing. If he's hunting you, you'd better come up with a strategy or it will be short.

Irish Mafia Don: “Ciarog,” or Cia

Front: Pub owner. Runs an illegal bare knuckle boxing ring

Speaks: Gaelic

Appearance:

-Long hair, little bit past his shoulders, all green

-Freckles across his cheeks, all down his arms

-Heavily tattooed, especially on the hands and arms. 

-Shortest of the five, though he’s only an inch or so smaller than Gio

-Wears earth tones, greys and greens mostly. Button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, green vest, grey wool pants, and a flat newsboy cap

-Wears a rosary around his neck. Like Zhuk’s glasses, it’s just for show. 

-Has thick calluses on his knuckles, as well as lots of scars on his hands. They’re hardly noticeable with all the tattoos, but close inspection reveals them. 

-Wears more rings than Gio, though his are of slightly worse quality. They’re not for show, they’re meant to deal damage to whoever he has to pummel.

Personality:

-Laid back, very flirty. Almost doesn’t seem like a mob boss at first, always cracking jokes.

-Loves games of any kind, especially riddles and guessing games.

-Quick to anger, but quick to calm as well. 

-Likes being outside more than the other two, has an appreciation for nature

-Definitely a switch. 

-When he gets excited or angry, he'll speak in a mix of English and Gaelic. The more emotion he shows, the more Gaelic slips out.

Attributes/Skills:

-Can play the violin/fiddle. Knows just about every drinking song there is. Loves performing in his pub with his s/o

-Has an extensive knife collection. 

-Doesn't have the steps of any particular dance, but can whirl you around a room so fast your head will spin.

-Whiskey and scotch are his preferred drinks.

-At any given moment has at least three weapons hidden on his person.

-Most lenient of the three

-Can use fae magic, even though he's not exactly on friendly terms with them.

-Collects enchanted trinkets. Between his knives and his trinkets he's a bit of a pack rat

Cajun Crime Lord: “Scarabee,” or Bee

Front: Riverboat casino runner. Distributes moonshine and runs illegal gambling dens

Speaks: French Creole

Appearance:

-Same height as Gio

-Hair colored like Cia’s, all green, but cut shorter than the rest and styled into a bit of a pomp.

-Wears a suit of gold paisley, has a necklace of various species of teeth (some animal, some human) around his neck, along with silk gloves on his hands

-Carries a cane, but unlike Gio’s his is connected to his magic and glows to match his hair. 

-He’s got a bit of a crazy eye, when he grins, he can look a little unhinged. The heterochromia doesn’t help that, with one green iris and one purple

-His teeth are inexplicably a little bit sharper than the other’s.

Personality:

-Playful, teasing, not shy at all

-Biggest top after Zhuk

-Has the biggest bloodlust, likes to get his hands dirty

-The angrier he gets, the bigger he grins, and it’s a little terrifying.

-Also expects to be obeyed; he and Zhuk get into a lot of pissing contests over this.

-Definitely the type to throw elaborate, crazy parties in his manor or on his riverboat. 

-His accent gets super thick when he’s excited or angry, so much so it’s hard to tell the difference between English and Creole. 

Attributes/Skills:

-Actually a really good cook, loves sharing recipes with his s/o

-Skilled in voodoo and witchcraft, has shadow powers

-Has pet gators that live in the swamp out back of his property. Please don’t ask what he feeds them.

-Drinks pretty much anything, but is partial to moonshine

-Smokes Virginia Slims

-Definitely gets high on a regular basis

-Terrific swing dancer. 

Spanish Crime Lord: “Escarabajo,” or Bajo

Front: Owns a string of private nightclubs. Operates a drug running ring, cocaine and marijuana

Speaks: Spanish

Appearance:

-His dress is very monochromatic, sticking mostly to black and white. Sometimes you can catch a flash of red.

-Open-throated shirts and tight pants. Very Zorro-esque.

-Wears a silver medallion around his neck with the Virgin Mary on it. Like Zhuk’s glasses or Cia’s rosary, it’s all for show.

-Silver teeth. Some back teeth, but most noticeably, his top canines. 

-Slicked back hair, like Gio’s is mostly black with green just at the tips, but closer in length to Zhuk’s. Has the thickest hair of the five.

-Black leather gloves. Unlike Gio and Bee, who are always wearing theirs, he’s seen without them just as much as with them.

Personality:

-The most flirtatious. You thought Cia was bad? Bajo is on thirst hours 25/8.

-It takes a lot to make him angry, though he’s quick to cool down. Most level aside from Zhuk. 

-Tells a lot of jokes. His are only a little bit better than Cia’s.

-Likes leaving little gifts and trinkets for his s/o. More often than not, you’ll wake up to find a single rose on your pillow.

-Most charitable of the lot. They have orphanages and boarding schools set up in each of their home countries, and it was his idea to start them.

-Oddly wise. The best to go to for life advice (if you want to avoid one of Zhuk’s lectures, that is).

Attributes/Skills:

-Plays the guitar. He and Cia often duet.

-Amateur sharpshooter. He won’t be winning any contests, but he’s by far and away the best shot of the five.

-Has a green thumb. Loves to grow things; flowers, fruits, vegetables, herbs, you name it. Has land dedicated to his plants on each of their shared estates, as well as his own small farm back home.

-An absolute god at the tango. 

-A switch for sure, but is probably the most eager bottom of the five. 

-Praise kink? Praise kink.

(tagging @yankyo @realmonsterboyhours @beetlejuicebeadoll @sapphic-florals @dilfyjuice @wolfie-doggo and the other members of my discord just in case i’ve forgotten something or if they would like to add anything.)

[katehuntington]

Title: Changes - part eight Word count:  ±4800 words Summary “Changes”: Huntress Zoë Sullivan (OFC) crosses paths and swords with the Winchesters, when the brothers stumble on a case she’s already working. When complications arise, they are forced to work together. Summary part eight: Zoë meets with Terry Cliffer, or is it the shapeshifter? She tries to find out fast, but can’t prevent bullets from flying. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Demon possession, supernatural creatures/entities. Smut, swearing, alcohol use/addiction. Kidnapping, mentions of torture and murder, illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks.  Music: Boulevard Of Broken Dreams - Greenday. Author’s note: I couldn’t be more excited to share Supernatural: The Sullivan Series with you. There are quite a few people I want to thank: @coffee-obsessed-writer, @soupornatural & @mrswhozeewhatsis, who edited the early drafts, and my girls @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish & @winchest09 who are deciphering the recent version. Everyone who encouraged me to go for it, you are awesome!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist 01x01 “Changes” Masterlist

     Zoë sips her cappuccino as she observes the foam floating on top of her hot drink. She’s at Beetle’s, sitting on a stool at the bar. Cigarette smoke fills the air, and even though she would love to light one, she ignores the smell. Instead the huntress stares at the bottles across from the counter, exhibited on the shelves, the back wall is a mirror to create the illusion that they have a lot more drinks in store. It’s a modern kind of place, the only history it shows are some pictures, pinned to the wall. The current number one hit Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Greenday plays in the background. She listens to the lyrics, the song appealing to her.      I walk this empty street, on the boulevard of broken dreams      Where the city sleeps and I'm the only one and I walk alone      My shadow's the only one that walks beside me      My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating      Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me      'Til then I walk alone

     The long nights are taking their toll. Although strangers still see a stunning young woman, she herself notices the signs of fatigue in her reflection, despite her makeup, that is a little more prominent than usual. Zoë finds it thrilling to pretend to be someone she’s not. She traded her leather biker outfit for a white blouse, a black blazer, matching suit pants and pumps. Her straightened dark hair is combed back and tied together in a bun. It’s funny, leather or business, she still gives away the same message; don’t mess with me. 

     Her eyes capture the bottle of Johnny Walker Red again. She would kill for a glass, but having a shot wouldn’t be a smart thing to do. Focus is the issue here; no way she’s letting her guard down. The damn bastard shot her once and she doesn’t feel like peeling a bullet out of herself for the second time today. But one glass wouldn’t hurt, right? Zoë shakes her head, deciding against it.           This appointment can go two ways: either the shapeshifter shows up and this bar and its customers are going to have the most ‘exciting’ evening of their lives, or Terry Cliffer shows up and this will be nothing more than a boring interrogation. Not to mention, this case will once again take longer than anticipated, because by now, the fucker could’ve easily shifted into someone else already. 

     She finishes her coffee and leaves the empty cup on the bar. Carefully, she glances over her shoulder. Zoë can’t put her finger on it, but she can feel a pair of eyes burning in her back; someone’s watching her. The shapeshifter maybe? She remembers Sam’s words and realizes that even if she meets Cliffer within fifteen minutes, the son of a bitch might actually be here right now. Suddenly, she hears something sweeping towards her over the wooden bartop. Startled, she turns to the bartender, who still has his hand folded around a glass of whiskey.      “You’ve been eying that Johnny Walker bottle for twenty minutes and you look really tense. You need a drink, on the house.”

     She looks him in the eye, trying to decide whether or not to trust him. She smiles politely and takes the glass, but doesn’t drink, just yet.      “Thank you,” she says, observing him. “You’re the owner of this place? Rob Michaels?”      “That’s me,” Rob answers while he polishes a glass.      We’ll see about that, Zoë thinks to herself. The bartender could be the shapeshifter, for all she knows. She needs to figure out if he is, without giving him the impression that she’s suspecting him.      “Then you probably know most of your regulars, right?” she questions.      “Right…” Rob hesitates. “Am I being questioned?”      “Whatever you wanna call it,” she flashes him her FBI identification.

     He raises his eyebrows. He thought there was something more to her than just a businesswoman who’s getting a drink after work, but a fed? He had city police over, even state police at one point, this is a new one. He leans in for her to hear his whispered words.      “Something shady going on in my bar?” he asks, looking around for anything suspicious.      She puts her ID away in the inside pocket of her blazer, after which she folds her hands together, ignoring his question. “What do you know about Terry Cliffer?”            Rob chuckles. “Are you kidding me? Terry wouldn’t hurt a fly.”      “We’re not just around to catch the bad guys, Mr. Michaels. We actually intend to prevent crimes from happening, too” she states, pretending to be insulted.      “Is he in trouble?” the bar owner wonders.      “I think I’m the one who’s doing the questioning here, Rob. Can I call you Rob?” Zoë grabs a hold of the conversation again, not impressed.      “S-sure,” he answers, intimidated.      She glances at the clock, it’s 5:55. Then she continues.      “Tell me what you know.”

     Zoë’s eyes are penetrating, yet calm and the bartender soon begins his story, but he doesn’t start off with anything new. Shy guy, father of two, yada yada yada. Her thoughts wander off to the whiskey bottle on the shelf again, as she partly listens. Shit, she wants that heavenly brown liquor, and she wants it bad. Although there’s a full glass in front of her, she still refuses to drink it. Zoë hasn’t actually seen him rinse the glass, nor if he poured the whiskey straight from the bottle; it could be spiked. The huntress contemplates on dragging him over the counter and cutting him; if he screams out in terror, he’s not the shifter, if he doesn’t, he is. Yeah, maybe not such a great idea, Zo, she thinks to herself. And all this time she keeps staring at the Johnny Walker Red.

     “He moved into town a few years back with his family. I believe he still owns some property about a mile or three out, though. Somewhere on 110th Ave,” Rob says with a lowered voice.      Suddenly there’s the sound of glass breaking. The bartender turns around and is surprised to find the bottle of whiskey in pieces on the floor.      “Ah, damn it! Must have left it too close to the edge,” he mutters as he kneels down to pick up the biggest pieces of shattered glass.      Startled, Zoë stares over the bar, recapturing what just happened. Did she just… Ah shit, not this again.      “That’s a shame,” she comments to break the silence.      “Sure is,” he agrees, but then pulls his hand back with a little screech. “Ow!”      He gets up and Zoë immediately detects the bleeding cut on his finger, which causes Rob to hiss in pain. A shapeshifter wouldn’t feel a thing when being cut by glass; so much for her theory. As if she was waiting for the lights to go green on a racetrack, she puts the glass to her mouth and lets the whiskey ooze down her throat. My God, she so needed a drink. 

     In the meantime Rob takes off to the kitchen, probably to bandage the cut. It’s when the door closes behind him, that his last words sink in. 110th Ave! Cliffer owned land there? She quickly gets her ducks in a row. She knows O’Brien, Middleton and Gibson, the missing people, have all been at 110th Avenue over the last month, but no one actually owned a place there. This might be a major lead! Why didn’t she learn about this sooner? She has to find the exact address and pay a visit as soon as she’s done here. 

     As the place gets more crowded during these after work hours, Terry Cliffer walks in. Zoë straightens her back and looks over the crowd. Insecure, the guy in his mid-forties searches the place, then he carefully approaches the bar. He’s not a tall man and he seems thin. It surprises Zoë that the shapeshifter chose his body to copy in the first place.       He glances behind the bar, probably looking for Rob to ask if there has been anyone around looking for him. By this time, Zoë has hopped off the bar stool and walked up to the guy. Her gun, loaded with silver bullets, hangs from her belt and burns in her flesh through the fabric of her dress pants. If he attacks, runs, or does something else that she doesn’t like, she’s going to shoot him.            “Terry Cliffer?”      He turns around and looks her in the eye. Not a sign of recognition. The shapeshifter would recognize her, after all, she is the one hunting him. Nothing strange, nothing out of the ordinary happens, he just puts out his hand to greet her.      “Are you the FBI agent?” he assumes, carefully.      “That would be me, yeah,” she takes out her federal agent identification again. “Shall we take a seat?”      They move to a table in the far corner and sit down. A good spot, one she picked out the moment she walked in. From here, she has a clear view over the entire place, yet it’s private. She signals Rob, who probably took care of his little problem and is back behind his bar. In a few seconds he halts next to their table.

     “What can I get you?” he takes out a pen and a small notebook.      “A beer, if that’s okay?” Terry glances at the woman across from the table.      “Be my guest,” she approves and looks up at Rob. “Plain water please.”      “Oh, and can I get something to eat? I didn’t actually get the chance to have dinner, yet.” The last sentence was more directed to Zoë than to the bar owner, excusing himself again in that self-conscious way.      “The usual?” the owner of the place asks.       Terry nods.      “Anything else?” Rob glances from one to the other.      “No, I think we’re fine,” Zoë answers.      “Okay then, coming right up.”

     Rob leaves the table and finally Zoë can start her conversation. She begins with an attempt to break the ice, since Terry seems to be pretty tense. It’s not every day that you have a one-on-one with an FBI agent.      “Not planning to have supper with your family?” she assumes.      “Not today, my wife took the kids to their grandparents for the week, down in Preston,” Terry tells her.      Good, they are safe, Zoë notes. She folds her hands together leaning on her forearms on the edge of the table, ready to start the interrogation, but Terry beats her to it.      “I don’t want to be rude, but I expected to meet a man today,” he admits with a nervous laugh.      “Right, I heard you talked to my partner. He called in sick,” she makes up quickly.       “It was really odd, he didn’t know your name,” Terry tells her. “For a moment, I thought I was being pranked or something.”

     Uh-oh. Is he suspecting something? She has to come up with something good now to keep a good impression.      “I actually got married a week ago,” she lets a smile play on her lips, turning her mother’s engagement ring on her finger, drawing attention to the piece of jewelry.       “I changed surnames. What can I say, he doesn’t like change.”      “Congratulations!” Terry smiles back, seemingly buying it.      Pfew, that was a close call. Now it’s her turn to ask some questions, because all she has been doing during the last five minutes is covering the Winchester’s fuck ups. Just as she takes a breath to begin, Rob shows up next to the table with their drinks and a cutlery set for Terry. Zoë lets out an annoyed sigh and looks away.

     “One beer and plain water.”      He puts down the glasses from his dinner-tray, which he holds up with his left hand. As he sets down Terry’s beer, the meat knife slips from the plate and falls, the sharp edge pointing down. Zoë looks up just in time to see the knife penetrate the hand of the man she’s about to negotiate. She almost lets out a moan of disgust, but strangely enough, Terry doesn’t even notice it until he glances at his hand.      “Terry, Jesus Christ! I’m so sorry, it - it just fell off!” Rob stammers, but neither of them hear him.      It’s not a silver knife, it’s stainless steel, Zoë realizes instantly. Slowly the person  - no - creature, on the other side of the table lifts his head until he looks directly at her. His facial expression is no longer insecure and friendly, but self-confident and sadistic. For a brief moment his eyes flash white, as the eyes of a cat reflect when it stares into a pair of headlights.

     “You son of a--”      There’s no time to finish her sentence. In a split second, the shapeshifter draws his gun and Zoë is just in time to flip the metal table over on the side. She goes for her Smith & Wesson as well, as the shapeshifter backs up, causing his chair to fall over. Several people turn around to see what’s going on as Rob turns pale and steps back. Just before he unleashes a bullet on her, she shouts a warning.      “Everybody on the floor!”            As screams are let out by people inside the bar, the shifter fires two bullets at her, but by using the steel table as a shield, she stays unharmed.      “No way you’re gonna shoot me twice, fucker,” she snarls as she aims her gun over the edge of the table and pulls the trigger.      Making sure not to injure any civilians, Zoë fires three shots in a row. She’s not sure if any of them hit the target, but he’s still running.      “Fuck!” she curses as the third shot shatters the glass of the front door.

     Quickly, she follows and intends to run outside. Good thing she takes cover behind the doorpost as she glances around the corner, because the huntress stares right into a barrel. Just in time, she retreats and the two bullets shoot by her. Stumbling back inside, she takes a short second to catch her breath with her back against the wall and her gun tightly gripped in both hands and pointing it down. Several frightened and panicked eyes look straight at the FBI impersonator. One face stands out, Rob stares at her as if he just saw a ghost.      “I hope you’ve got insurance, Rob,” she comments, out of breath from all the excitement.      He nods his head, dumbfounded, unable to get a proper ‘yes’ or ‘no’ out of his mouth.      “Good, have a nice evening. Sorry ‘bout the mess.” She smiles uncomfortably and gives him an awkward wave.

      After gathering her courage, the huntress exits the bar. With the gun pointing ahead and her index finger off the trigger, Zoë clears the area, but there’s no one there but a bunch of thrill seekers who probably heard the gunshots. Zoë lets out a sigh and lowers her nine mil; she’s back to square one. There’s no need to follow him, he could be anywhere and anyone by now. She moves back to the small alleyway next to the bar where she parked her Harley, still expecting an ambush behind every corner. When she walks up the street, she notices a shiny fluid on the sidewalk, which catches her attention. Curious she kneels down and touches it with the tip of her finger; it’s blood. A grin appears on her face; looks like she managed to hit him after all. 

     When she looks further she notices a blood trail leading to a manhole in the center of the alley. The shifter left the cover off, allowing the huntress to stare down into the black depth.      “Hope my bullet hurts as much as yours did, fucking lizard!” she bellows down.      Zoë gets up and makes her way to the Harley, thinking through her next move and forcing herself to focus, even though the adrenaline is still rushing through her body. Terry Cliffer’s property at 110th Avenue; that is her first priority. She would bet money on it: this has to be the location of the shapeshifter’s lair.

     It’s quiet in the parking lot when Zoë pulls up to the motel, but she doesn't pay much attention to the silence, determined to close this case tonight. She rushes inside while taking her helmet off, doesn’t bother to pay attention to the man behind the counter and quickly opens the door to her room. Her Macbook is still buzzing softly and as soon as she presses a key, the screen activates. She selects a tracking website from her favorites and types in the information she has. After several seconds a complete address shows: 3841 110th Avenue NW. Quickly she kicks off her pumps, changes her dress pants for jeans and her blazer for the new leather Harley Davidson jacket. As she’s lacing up her biker boots, when three loud bangs on the door startle her. Cautious, the huntress takes her gun in her left hand, finger still off the trigger, and silently approaches the door.      “Mrs. Johnson! I know you’re in there!”            She recognizes that voice, it’s the owner of the motel. Quickly she puts away her weapon and opens the door. The old man is waiting with a phone still in his hand, he doesn’t seem amused.      “I just received a call from one of my guests who was dining at Beetle’s Bar, said he saw you shooting up the place,” he recalls.      “I can explain that,” she states, calmly.      “I bet you can. You know what? I’ll bet your real name isn’t even Johnson. I want you out. I said I didn’t want any trouble,” he insists, pointing down the hallway.      “Just give me a sec.” She goes for her ID in her inside pocket while her other hand makes a calming gesture, then she shows it to him.      “My name isn’t Johnson, you’re right. It’s Evans, Sarah Evans. I’m a federal agent and I was working undercover,” she explains.      “FBI? Yeah, right. I don’t give a damn. Now, get out of my motel,” the man decides.      “Alright, let me get my stuff,” she sighs, putting back her identification.

     Instead of pulling back her hand empty, she grabs a small flashlight, turns it on and points it in the old man’s eyes. Her suspicion is confirmed, because his eyes flash white. For a brief moment the shapeshifter is overwhelmed by the reveal, enough time for Zoë to drop the flashlight into her striking hand, breach the space between them and slam her fist right up his nose, giving him one hell of an uppercut. He goes down in the hallway and looks up at her, staggered.      “Come on. Did you really think I was gonna be that easy?” she chuckles, flipping the torch up in the air and catching it skillfully.

     She grabs him by the collar and drags him inside her room, shifting the fight between four walls instead of on the corridor, not wanting innocent bystanders to get caught in the crossfire. She drops him to the ground, glaring down on him with disgust as she takes her gun from behind her waistband. The shifter clears his throat, wiping crimson red from his lip.      “Actually, I did. I almost shot you twice. Reckoned this would be a piece of cake,” he gloats with a grin, after which he struggles to get on his feet, holding his hands up. “You wanna shoot me in a fully booked motel? Try to explain that to the neighbors.”      Zoë narrows her eyes at him, mentally kicking herself for leaving the gun suppressor in her storage locker the last time she was there. The bastard has a point; shooting what looks like the owner of Motel 6 through the heart, will definitely draw attention. She scoffs, pursing her lips, then she takes the magazine from her weapon and lays it on the bed.      “We’ll finish this the old fashioned way, then,” she agrees confidently.

     They face each other, challenging. Zoë adjusts to a back stance, putting her left foot behind her and bending her knees slightly. Her hands lift up in front of her face as she flexes her fingers, ready for anything that son of a bitch is going to throw at her.       “I have to say, you got me fooled. Making me believe Terry Cliffer was going to be your next dress-up party, while he actually was your first. Smart,” she admits.      “If you admire me so much, why waste me?” he tests, blood dripping from his nose.      She smirks at that, entertained by his arrogance. “Don’t give yourself too much credit.”

     He steps towards her, but she beats him to it. In a quick move she defends, blocking his attack with her forearm and swings her back leg up with force, kicking the shifter hard against his temple. He goes down, shaking his head to ward off the black spots that are inevitably swimming in front of his eyes. When he looks up, the huntress has taken her rear foot stance again. One fist with her palm up on her hip and ready to strike, the other is ready in front of her to defend.       “Gotta say, you fight pretty good for a girl,” He gets to his feet again, wiping his brow. “Or should I call you the Karate Kid?”      “Oh, I’m not a kid. I’m more like a ninja,” she smirks, staring him down.        “Ninja or not, you’re no match for me.”

     He charges her, faster than humanly possible. Despite his supernatural speed, she dodges his jab and releases another kick, against his ribs this time. The creature locks her leg before she can retreat, however, and steps in while Zoë has lost her balance. With a fierce strike, his fist hits her in the jaw, hard. He still has a hold of her leg and twists it, forcing her on the floor, pulling a groan of agony from her as the ligaments in her knee stretch further than possible. Not giving up that easily, she pushes her left foot from the ground, using the leverage of him still holding her right leg tight to swing the other to his head, hitting him on the side of his face with her instep. He releases her and she breaks her fall, rolls, and gets up again, all in one swift movement. The arm that had a strong grip on her only seconds ago, is now twisted to the shifter’s back. Roughly, she  forces him to his knees; he can't go anywhere. 

     “What did you do to those people?” she demands, not asking very nicely.      “Oh, don’t worry, I don’t actually kill them. It’s far more fun to watch them suffer,” he responds, sadistically.      “You son of a—”      She doesn’t have time to finish her sentence, because the shapeshifter throws his head back and hits her hard in the teeth. Sharp pain shoots through the roots into her skull and for a moment there she’s sure he broke off a tooth or two; so much for looking fabulous.       In that split second, the chameleon manages to fight free, grabs her by her arm and violently throws her over his shoulder. Zoë lands on her back, the air slamming out of her lungs. She gasps sharply, unable to catch her breath. No time to recover from the pain, though, because she receives a kick in the gut a moment after. 

     Losing control over the fight fast, she tries to push away from her attacker to buy herself some valuable time, but her opponent takes the liberty to help her up, forcing her to stand by pulling her hair, before she suffers a blow in the chest with a strength that exceeds that of a human being. The huntress slams into the table, the edge bruising her lower back, feeling the tight grip of the shifter's hands on her throat when he roughly pushes her into the wooden surface.       With a devilish grin on his thin lips, he chokes her, clearly enjoying the display: how his victim fights for air, trying to pull in desperate breaths as he crushes her throat under his fingers.  

     “You know what I do to them? I keep them somewhere safe, safe from the world, where no one can find them,” he tells her, his speech eerily slow, as if he’s reading a chapter of a horror novel.      Zoë glances aside briefly. Although she can’t move her head, she notices the empty whiskey bottle she and Dean left last night, still laying on its side in the window sill. She reaches out, almost touching the glass, but the bottle remains out of reach by an inch or two. The shapeshifter laughs at her attempt and continues his story, as if he has all the time in the world to tell it.      “Humans are such strange creatures, you know? If you keep them together in a tiny cage for a while, they tend to behave like spiders. They attack each other, eventually kill and actually eat their own kind out of pure desperation. How amusing is that?”

     Zoë can’t hold back a gag, but forces herself to concentrate on the bottle. It vibrates almost unnoticeable, then the bottleneck turns towards her slightly. Focus, Zo! You can do this! She sends all her energy through her stretched out arm towards the nerve endings on her fingertips. It works, because the bottle flies into her hand. With an unexpected strike Zoë breaks the bottle on the shifter’s head, who stumbles back, finally letting go of her neck. Trying to suck oxygen down her painful windpipe, she coughs uncontrollably. Alright, that’s enough. A fair fight seems noble and all, but having a face off with a supernatural being, might not have been one of her smartest ideas. The huntress reaches for her gun and takes the magazine from the bed, swings around, aiming at… nothing? The room is empty.      “Fuck, not again,” she curses, bummed that she can’t put twenty years of jujitzu training in good use because of the runner.

     Before bolting out the door, the experienced huntress glances both ways down the hallway, her gun ready. Shit. No sign of the shifter. She lets out a frustrated sigh and  moves in, rolling her tongue over her straight teeth in the meantime, checking if they got chipped after the nasty headbutt she received.       When she clears the foyer, she is surprised to find the real motel owner, tied up to a chair in nothing more than a shirt and trunks, his mouth taped.      “Are you alright?” she asks, as he ‘hmm’s’ loudly.      In a quick movement she rips the tape from his mouth, unleashing a rant of curses and shouts.      “Ouch! That son of a bitch! Where is he?! Where is that bastard who did this to me?! I’m gonna kill him! I swear, I’m gonna--”

     Zoë stares at him for a moment, feeling a headache coming on, then grabs the roll of duct tape from the counter. While the manager keeps on raging, she rips off a piece of tape and presses it over his mouth. There is no way in the world she’s gonna release the pissed off elder; he needs some cooling down time. Casually she picks up the phone and for a moment considers dialling 911, but decides this isn’t really that much of an emergency and calls the local police.      “Hello? Yeah, hi. I just found an old guy tied up to a chair in not much more than his undies… Motel 6, 2107 Highway 52 North... My name? Yeah, it’s Not Interested.”       She hangs up and clears her throat, wiping her prints from the horn, then walks away, bored, with the roll of duct tape in her hand, leaving the furiously moaning motel owner behind the counter.

     Back in her room, she gathers her things and stuffs them in two duffels, which fit into the two big leather saddlebags on her Harley perfectly. She makes quick work of getting rid of all the evidence, including the glass she shattered on the shifter’s head. With both bags on her shoulder, she takes a last look around and leaves the room, waving at the motel manager on her way out while hiding her face from the security camera.       The cover of the manhole in the center of the parking lot is removed; her shifter went underground again. He's running back to his hideout, only he doesn't know that she knows exactly where that is.      “3841 110th Avenue Northwest,” she mumbles to herself as she gets on her bike and puts the helmet on her head.

     That’s where she’s going, that’s where this is going to end. The Harley engine roars loudly when she accelerates. Its back tire spins for a moment before the motorbike takes off as the evening sets in. This is going to be her last night in Rochester and his last night on the face of the earth. Zoë is determined: this hunt ends tonight.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

Read part nine here

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[dansnaturepictures]

Sixth instalment of my 10 wildlife/photography highlights blogs for 2020: My great butterfly (and moth, dragon/damselfly, beetle, flower and other insect) year Part 2

As I said in my post on Monday, due to the level of writing I have done about my butterfly and other insect/flower year for these posts this year I have, like I do with birds in this thread every year, done two posts about them this year. I had the opportunity to do this as the pandemic meant our June Anglesey holiday was postponed to next year and some day trips that would in other years get their own highlights post were amalgamated into my highlights post about my week off in June my last post when they occurred. I began writing the part 2 for butterflies etc. literally the day after that week off so it makes this week very chronological for the posts when I was well into the writing of these posts. I toyed with the idea of doing a separate post about some of the other insects and flowers I’ve seen this year for these blogs, an idea as a backup in case I got slots freed up I have every year for these posts but a lot of notable other insect/flower moments happened the same day or right after butterfly ones so it made sense to keep notable days/walks this year together. This therefore is descriptions of the best bits of what happened next in my butterfly year from late June onwards with mentions of the other insects/flowers.

The day after the week off on my Lakeside daily exercise walk it was great to see Small Skipper and Marbled White still plentiful as I said they had become at Lakeside towards the end of the last butterfly post, I even saw some away from their usual grassland on the concrete by beach lake. Ringlet, Comma, Meadow Browns still very plentiful, Common Blue Damselfly and some other interesting looking insects also stood out for sightings that day. The next day it was nice to see Ringlet and pyramidal orchid again at Lakeside looking nice in the rain, a walk where it was nice to see raindrops on flowers something I loved noticing this June and throughout the year a simple joy I found in life on the walk and at home and the area I nickname ‘Marbled White meadow’ looking a nice yellowy and red colour compared to when I saw it last before leave with certain flowers out. The next day after seeing and photographing a bee on it as mentioned in my last butterflies highlight post and seeing Large White checking out the others of the plant we have in the back garden during my week off I was happy to see one of my favourite butterflies the Red Admiral on the butterfly bush out the front. In more overcast, humid and showery conditions that lunch time with some sun poking through here and there I saw my first Gatekeeper actually at Lakeside of 2020 a key cog in the summer butterfly wheel here which was nice. That walk on a day I got so many intimate wildlife moments was one characterised by seeing nice views of lush green vegetation against grey skies and also as I had noticed in weeks before some early autumn leaves. On a completely unrelated note really but I had nowhere else to mention a notable event this year in these blogs that night I witnessed a sky phenomenon of a really nice orange and red sunset against dark, big and black clouds, some rain coming out of them therefore for the first time ever for me with a sunset a rainbow about too in my best ever year of rainbows. Through both the east and west facing windows of our house I was witnessing one of the most dramatic sky scenes I had ever seen! And even better everyone else in the house and my Dad at his noticed it and loads of people on social media posted pictures of the sky too so it was a real unifying moment and standout one for me this year. That night a key memory is walking into my room to do something and thinking “Oh why have I left the light on in here” when in fact it was the glow of the sky scene outside lighting up my room. The next day I saw loads of Ringlets with wings open at Lakeside at lunch and a Marbled White moving about looking quite freshly emerged. One of my best 24 hour periods during a working week this year for photos and wildlife I think coming nicely after the week off. The next day it was nice to see Small and Large Skipper battling each other a brilliant view of the latter which I took the first picture in this photoset of it was great to see both together and get a rare chance to compare them the Small Skippers really are much smaller, Ringlets, a landed Gatekeeper, Holly Blue, a great Brimstone view and more at Lakeside.

The weekend that followed on quite a sunny day I had a nice walk at Stockbridge Down where upon seeing Dark Green Fritillary I reflected on what a wonderful year I have had for seeing this species at local places here and Martin Down and Durlston in my week off where I might not normally get the chance to visit and see them I saw so many and so well and close up across the board I really enjoyed them this year. It was also great to see Silver Y moth here, my fairly long-awaited first Cinnabar moth caterpillars of the year on the everywhere emerging it seemed ragwort a classic little part of summer those small orange and black caterpillars I love seeing them I had seen the adults here the time we came here before that so it came full circle a great chance of a species to see adult and caterpillar each year and some nice common red solider beetles. I saw some more of the latter with one flying nicely too at Lakeside in the week that followed a great addition to my great year of beetles and starting to learn and love them more in 2020 this species helped define my summer.

In this rich, colourful and precious meadow habitat the day after National Meadow day other key butterflies I saw that day were; Peacock, Comma, Marbled White, Small Coppers, many Marbled Whites, Gatekeeper well as well as Small Heath, Meadow Brown, Ringlet, Common Blue, Adonis Blue, lots of Red Admirals and Large Skipper. On lunch time walks during that following week at Lakeside in quite grey conditions at times it was evidence of the peak butterfly season time of year July is that Ringlet and Gatekeeper were commonplace with great views too at times, alongside Marbled White, Large White, Small Skipper, Meadow Browns and Holly Blue seen well.

The Thursday of that week at Lakeside I snuck in a ‘Big Butterfly Count’ survey a week ahead of its start date as the website allowed you too submit sightings/counts then. I always do this at Lakeside quite often more than once in a year and usually after work. So it made a nice change to do one on a lunch time with working at home and it’s always one of the points in a year and summer I look forward to most, it really like the ‘Big Garden Birdwatch’ feels like I’m doing my bit for nature and finding out what species are where and how they’re doing so it felt both thrilling and satisfying to take part again. One of the reasons I love doing it is that it’s done in July into August deliberately to focus on the key species Butterfly Conservation want to monitor in particular as it’s the point of the year the greatest number of species are about. Gatekeeper’s arrival onto my regular Lakeside butterfly scene this year and longer and longer grasses set the stage for the count at Lakeside for me with the species I always see in them all about. But I had this desperation to get a count submitted ahead of time as I’d been seeing Marbled Whites and Small Skippers for over a month at this point so I wanted to get them in on a count as well as Ringlets that never seem to last long at Lakeside before it was too late. That Thursday I did count eight different species, Meadow Brown, Marbled White and Small Skipper the most numerous on sixteen, nine and eight seen respectively. The perhaps still early Gatekeeper and Large White were next on three each, this walk also presented me the chance for my first macro and open winged Gatekeeper photograph this year, then a standout one Common Blue and also one Large Skipper and one Ringlet completed my sightings. As I walked through the meadow by the woods during the 15 minutes of counting I suddenly remembered the unique charm of it as you walk through fields and just see one Meadow Brown and Gatekeeper after another in particular you distinguish between them and try to keep track of them. A great thing to be overwhelmed by in a sense its good news in this world if you are inundated. It was quite high numbers for a grey day walk which did have a sun trying to poke through but had slight rain as well. This really got me well in the mood for the survey proper. It was also great to see yet more common red soldier beetles on the flowers that day too.

I did another warm up ‘Big Butterfly count’ at Lakeside the next day and despite a bit more obvious sun other than that similar conditions I saw less butterflies but the same amount of species. Meadow Browns dominated again with six seen, I saw three Large Whites again and three Ringlets more than the day before, less Small Skippers but still some with three, two Gatekeepers and one Speckled Wood I also saw in the 15 minutes of counting. It was also great to see two Common Blues, I remarked how for a butterfly I barely saw at or associated with the grasses of Lakeside for years which I often see in Big Butterfly counts when I am perhaps really looking more deeply I have this year started to see them consistently here and it makes sense with the habitat but it’s still nice to see them close to home. I took the second picture in this photoset of a Common Blue that day. I also made it – technically – a third Big Butterfly Count running I’d seen a Brown Argus in at Lakeside that day with one seen it’s becoming my tradition to see one here one that’s quite a rare butterfly for the site I guess an urban one whilst doing this survey. The one thing I really wanted to do this year in the Big Butterfly count whilst working from home and having the time to be at Lakeside so much was do them at different bits of Lakeside and compare results. It was interesting the Thursday which I didn’t on the Friday I walked through the meadow by the woodland patch entrance in the south west of the site beside the lake. This area was teeming with butterflies and the results reflected that with more individual butterflies the day I covered it so I found this area I don’t often or ever in years visit to watch butterflies really where I’ve spent so much time at is rich in butterfly life and quite interesting as it’s a relatively small isolated patch compared to the others. That night in more consistently sunny and quite hot conditions I did another Lakeside walk as I often did on Fridays and I did an impromptu second ‘Big Butterfly Count’ of the day when a Comma kept landing on me briefly, a Red Admiral one of my favourites was about and I saw Ringlet and I got a great view of a Large White landed in the tree and path area behind the visitor centre and steam railway station. Nice bright sunny light against very green trees and a Swift gliding against a blue sky helped make this a perfect summer evening and memory this year.

I spent a section of our walk the next day at Whitefield Moor in the New Forest butterfly counting too with some of the target species seen, on an afternoon 10 years after the point I consider the moment I got interested in butterflies where I also saw my first Common Grayling of 2020 one of my favourites and such a precious butterfly for me. I wrote about this afternoon fully in my third of these posts last week about our New Forest trips this year. I celebrated this big butterfly anniversary for me a lot on social media. Beforehand that day a pretty hot and sunny one it was brilliant to see a Large White in the back garden on the buddleia and just enjoy the buddleia in the evening in really amazing summer light. The next day at Stockbridge Down I was absolutely thrilled to see my first Chalkhill Blues of 2020. We saw many of these speciality here and silky and milky butterflies one of my favourites and it was a true honour to see them again on a hot day, exactly what July is all about for me really. This special butterfly was my milestone 40th this year I was elated to reach 40 butterfly species for the third year running and at that stage it made my year list my third highest ever for butterflies. I also had a stunning moment when we realised an ambition and saw a Hummingbird hawk-moth flying around our first ever and one we’d wanted to see for ages. A headline really of a smashing list of new moths I’ve seen this year for me in a very strong year for seeing them for me where I have learnt and got a little more interested in them. I was happy to see it. The amount of butterflies around in a meadow area and on some bushes on this hot day defined the day. There were just so many species and a butterfly everywhere I looked I did not know where to look at times. It was like the seabird cliff equivalent of butterflies really something I love so much seeing dozens and dozens on birds in a short space this was vibrant meadow today teeming with life. I photographed so many butterflies that day as well as brilliant flowers I saw that I kindly had identified for me in Twitter’s “#WildFlowerHour” common restharrow and rosebay willowherb which I had seen here the Sunday before dominating the landscape too. It turned out a Large White in a key photo I took that day was on a devil’s-bit scabious a flower I would later learn, I noticed this in November when I used the photo for my #AButterflyADay one of a few daily past photo tweeting activities I did during lockdowns this year. I would go onto to contribute to and look at #WildFlowerHour a lot more in line with the PlantNet app I downloaded in my delve into flowers this year. The rosebay willowherb became one of my standout flowers this year seeing so many of them in a year I really delved into flowers. I could not resist submitting some data again to Big Butterfly Count this was some of the most butterflies I’d seen together at once this year something I found so precious and really felt a lot. The results I kept and submitted for the species they want records for was; Meadow Brown 20, Marbled White 7, Gatekeeper 6, Chalkhill Blue 5, Dark Green Fritillary 5, Large White 5, Red Admiral 3, Peacock 2, Small Copper 2, Ringlet 2, Brimstone 1, Comma 1, Brown Argus 1, Green-veined White 1, Holly Blue 1, Large Skipper 1, Small Skipper 1, Silver-washed Fritillary 1 and Small Tortoiseshell 1. That day I also saw Large White, Small Tortoiseshell and Yellow Shell moth flying over or in the garden which was great. The next day back at Lakeside it was great to see a few Black-tailed Skimmers again a brilliant dragonfly to have so close to home.

That following Thursday on the official eve of the ‘Big Butterfly count’ it was great to see so many of the species I saw a lot during those weeks again at Lakeside as well as a burnet moth flying, as well as get cracking views of Cinnabar moth caterpillar which I took the third picture in this photoset of and a Banded Demoiselle which was nice. I did another ‘Big Butterfly Count’ in the meadow area by the entrance to the woods in the south west of the site that Friday a very hot and sunny day. In the count I saw 15 Meadow Browns, 6 Gatekeepers, 6 Six-spot Burnet moths funnily enough including two mating, 4 Large Whites, 4 Small Skippers, 2 Peacocks and 1 Brown Argus, Common Blue and Marbled White in the 15 minutes. A pretty similar amount to what I counted at this location the Thursday before when you could submit results. During this time here I also saw more common red soldier beetle and cinnabar moth caterpillars on ragwort. Beforehand I submitted more count data when I saw two Large Whites from home in and around the garden again. When at Lakeside for another walk that evening I did another ‘Big Butterfly Count’ at the Marbled White meadow area a name I give the meadows of the south eastern bit of the site. Gatekeeper came out on top with 8 seen in a tight race beating Meadow Brown into second with 7, I also counted 6 Large Whites, 3 Small Whites, 1 Common Blue, 1 Green-veined White, 1 of one of my favourites the Red Admiral and 1 Speckled Wood. Again similar numbers to when I counted at this part of the site the Friday before, and a little less than the place by the woods as it was the week before too. Which proved my theory about more butterflies being at that point at Lakeside whilst there were absolutely so many at both. The two big species observations are that perhaps I was right to do some counts around the weekend before here and elsewhere early as I only saw one Marbled White that day and didn’t see any Ringlets so some species technically in this early butterfly year could have had lesser numbers during the count. The other is from doing them the week before the Gatekeepers seemed lower and could not compete with its partner as the most numerous butterflies each year really the Meadow Brown. The Gatekeepers emerge later even they emerged earlier this year though but we were a week on in their season and there’s was more about then we were still quite early in their season so it makes a difference. It at that stage meant there were only two of the Big Butterfly Count target species I was yet to observe in a 15 minutes of counting so far which felt great. More great fun had counting butterflies that day it really is so rewarding to do and makes your mind feel so focused and enriched when out on hot and sunny days. Also nice to see a Black-tailed Skimmer at Lakeside that day. I took the fourth picture in this photoset of a lovely ladybird that day. The next day I saw Large White really well in the garden and a Holly Blue flying over which I submitted to the count after seeing lots of butterflies at Fleming Park that day a very hot and sunny summer day. On the day after I saw a storm of Gatekeepers, Six-spot Burnet, Meadow Brown and Small White butterflies during some more butterfly counting at Lakeside on another lovely relaxed day, but a greyer one so this was nice. Large and Small Whites seemed to be recorded very well by me and others and have a good year in the Big Butterfly Count 2020.

I began that next week with a butterfly filled and very hot and sunny day off first going to Peartree Green, where I did another big butterfly count in which I managed to see my most butterflies of one species at that stage in the 15 minutes with 25 Gatekeepers seen. This felt amazing. It was probably when we were there at the height of a hot morning the most individual butterflies I had counted in this survey this year at that stage all together, as I also saw 12 Large White, 2 Meadow Brown, 2 Small Skipper and 1 Holly Blue, Marbled White, Peacock and Red Admiral each. We then moved onto West Wood when my Mum based on walks she had there without me on hot and sunny days this year said I would see a lot of butterflies and sure enough we did walking along the paths. As we approached a bubbling piece of buddleia or butterfly bush I did another big butterfly count. This patch of counting absolutely topped the one in the morning for amount I saw and Meadow Brown regained its crown as the butterfly I have seen most of at once with 31 seen, the Gatekeeper was less numerous but still present here as I saw 10. There were also 15 Peacocks, more Large Whites with 11 seen. A pleasing 8 Ringlets they had quietened down at that stage as well as 6 Small Skippers, 5 Red Admiral, 3 Brimstone 1 Comma, 1 Dark Green Fritillary, 1 Green-veined White 1, 1 Holly Blue, 1 Large Skipper, 1 Silver-washed Fritillary and 1 Speckled Wood completed the count. As we walked on we reached a patch of flowers and thick vegetation where my Mum had said she’d seen hundreds of butterflies together before. This was no exaggeration as on these plants it was absolutely covered in butterflies. It was sensational to see and was like a seabird colony covering a cliff for scale and magnitude. There were particularly masses of Peacocks one of my best ever moments with this species. But Brimstone, Red Admiral, Comma, Meadow Brown, Large White and Large Skipper were also present. This was absolutely a sight to behold, it was an unimaginable amount of butterflies all soaking up the sun together. And I found it a real leveller. Some there were my favourite butterflies, some quite rare, other more ordinary but together they made this scene adorable, captivating and unbelievable. I didn’t get any butterfly year ticks that day or see anything new but I can still describe it as one of my best ever days of butterfly watching which whilst it’s not always about the lists still speaks volumes I think. I had simply never seen scenes like this in ten years of butterfly watching. A wow moment in nature. I was so lucky to have this at this supreme patch of butterflies. That day I also got perhaps my best ever Scarlet tiger moth views really seeing this stunning moth one of my favourites and a quintessential part of summer with its amazing colours so close I took a standout picture in my year of this one. I also saw another amazing beetle my first ever black and yellow longhorn beetle fitting into this year well which was great. Away from insects a Roe Deer crossing the path closely to us a couple of times was very pleasant that day too. That day I took the fifth and sixth pictures in this photoset of a Large White butterfly and Brimstone and Large Skipper together a photo of the likes I’d not taken before getting two species together in focus in shot which was what the day was all about really. In hindsight that day was one of my best wildlife and photography days of my year with how much I saw so well, but when doing my end of year posts and others that involved selecting my strongest pictures of the year photos from this day of which I took around 30 I think especially the insects cropped up again and again it had so many of my favourite pictures that day.

On another very hot and sunny one the next day I did another Big Butterfly Count on a pleasant Lakeside lunch time that began as soon as I got out the door with two of fourteen Large Whites counted in the time in our garden. As I walked along the path at the north of the site a Gatekeeper stronghold in the bushy vegetation above the grass down the side came good as I saw seventeen of these, at that stage the highest of any one species I’d seen in a count at Lakeside this year. Three Meadow Brown and Common Blue and two Speckled Wood completed the count. It was also great to see Small Skipper and Brown Argus that day as well as Blue-tailed Damselflies and Emperor dragonfly at Lakeside and a dragonfly I didn’t quite get time to identify flying towards me in the estate as I got home. The Gatekeeper fest continued the next day at Lakeside another great day as I saw 26 during another big butterfly count. Large White and Meadow Brown continued to do well with 12 and 7 seen respectively, as well as 2 Small Whites and 1 Comma, Common Blue, Brown Argus, Peacock and Speckled Wood. That day I also got another brilliant view of a Roe Deer close by walking through the grasses in the south east of the site. The next day I did an impromptu big butterfly count whilst walking around the lakes at Lakeside when I spotted Brimstone which I hardly ever see there and one of two Speckled Woods I counted during the time. Also in the count I saw; six Gatekeeper and Large White, three Meadow Browns their numbers were heading down on my Lakeside counts they had been out for so long that summer there by that point with Marbled Whites not present at all really at that stage there, one Common Blue and as I walked up the path from the lakes to the entrance between the fenced off nature reserve I saw a Six-spot Burnet moth not far from the spot I saw my first burnet moth 10 years ago a Five-spot Burnet which started my love affair with burnet moths a key stage in my little interest in moths early on which we’re obviously in the anniversary year for so that was nice. I had a dragonfly bonanza of sorts that day with yet another brilliant and close up Emperor view and another Black-tailed Skimmer over the lake. I got a fitting great few views of dragonflies that week for national dragonfly week. That next day the Friday I saw more white butterflies in the garden possibly a small this time as well as whites made our garden their home, a day sunflowers in the garden had began to really come out a bit seeing these iconic flowers in our garden and photographing them was a joy. I also saw Red Admiral and another dragonfly outside the house and at Lakeside which was nice that day. I did a big butterfly count again at lunch time on my walk focusing on the bushy areas beside Lakeside Country Park to the north in which I saw; 8 Gatekeeper, 5 Large White, 3 Meadow Brown and 1 Holly Blue, Ringlet, Small White and Speckled Wood. That evening I made the most of summer and light, sunny, hot and peaceful evenings and being based at home for work by taking my by that point regular Friday evening walk to start the weekend which felt great. The next day on a walk it rained from start to finish the other side of the upper car park at Martin Down I still saw quite a few moths, and it was remarkable to see a big snail a Roman or Burgundy or (which I preferred as a name) Edible snail they’re all among various names for it a brilliant species to see very distinctive, pretty and hard to miss. I photographed this as well as a slug in the garden when home making the most of wildlife on a wet day in the summer.  

The next day I had one of my most memorable afternoons of the year at a colourful looking largely cloudy but with sun coming through Stockbridge Down, one of my best days of 2020 as Man United my football team progressed into the Champions League beating Leicester City to finish third in the Premier League. At Stockbridge Down I was treated to scores and seas of Chalkhilll Blues flying over the rich meadows with many landed, both male and female. I took the seventh picture in this photoset of one. I saw perhaps more together than I ever had before that day a local speciality at the peak of their summer season. I really got to appreciate them as one of my favourite butterflies that day male and female, another experience this summer I loved seeing lots of butterflies at once. Of course impressively for how cloudy it was at times I did another big butterfly count that day, during this I saw 15 Meadow Browns, 6 Large Whites, 5 Gatekeepers, 4 Six-spot Burnet moths, 1 Brimstone, Brown Argus, Dark Green Fritillary, Peacock, Ringlet, Silver Y moth to mean the only species I was yet to see on one of these counts the species they are after sightings of was Painted Lady at that stage and also 1 Small Copper and Small Skipper. It was interesting the little local variations in my top 3 butterflies for these counts this year. Large Whites I saw a lot of everywhere. But I seemed to see Gatekeeper as the most I saw during a count more in urban locations but I saw more Meadow Browns in the rural locations. But the other did tend to do well in the counts for their not so strong area each time. That day I also loved seeing crickets flitting about and other little moths. That day it was nice to notice and photograph harebells, some fantastic and pretty purply flowers one of my favourites to learn thus year. When home I saw a bee on one of the sunflowers in the garden which was lovely.

On the Wednesday that following week I did my next big butterfly count as a hot and sunny patch which I had my lunch time walk within brought out so many in the grasses of Lakeside. I saw especially lots of Six-spot Burnet moth like the one in the eighth picture in this photoset, Common Blue and Brown Argus there which was great with three, four and six seen respectively whilst counting. I also saw; more Large Whites than anything with twelve, four Meadow Browns and Gatekeepers and one Brimstone, Holly Blue, Red Admiral and Small Skipper. I saw a dragonfly but couldn’t quite see what too on a very memorable walk that day for photos and wildlife. It felt quite fitting as this year 10 years on from seeing it the anniversary year I worked out from a photo what I thought was my first ever Six-spot Burnet at Lakeside in 2010 which I got excited about was actually a Five-spot Burnet. So I realised it was that species that made me fall in love with burnets, but I was so excited about Six-spot Burnet back then and still love them now so that and other times especially during the big butterfly count where they are a target species I have seen them has really made me celebrate and appreciate them views of them really stood out that day. I saw another decent batch of butterflies the next day on my walk at Lakeside a very hot and sunny one, submitting some more data to big butterfly count. It was interesting to see both blues booming that week with more Common Blues and a Holly Blue close to the house as well as a Small Heath my first for months on the green outside adding to the variety of butterflies I have seen immediately outside home this year. That Friday on the hottest day of the year at that stage it was nice to see a Small Tortoiseshell close beside the house. And I saw slightly less numbers possibly because of the heat so they weren’t flying to alert me to them possibly because a lot of the species seasons were getting on in a big butterfly count I found interesting to do at Lakeside in very hot conditions. This included a notable 8 Speckled Wood in the woods, 9 Large White, 4 Meadow Brown, another notable haul of Common Blues seen with 3, 2 Gatekeepers and 1 Brown Argus in the time counting. It was still a very decent amount of butterflies it was lovely to see dancing along on a very hot and sunny day for sure making me really feel at the peak of summer days as I did a lot that week as perhaps things looked to go a bit quiet with day flying moths and butterflies but then that week I saw so many and was reminded the peak peak season was still upon us. I also saw two more quick dragonflies I couldn’t quite see what that day and a Cinnabar moth caterpillar, ladybird and cricket in the grass.

Our August began at Emer Bog and Baddesley Common reserve in Hampshire where on a sun in and out and even at one point slightly rainy afternoon half of the productive first half hour of the walk was spent doing a big butterfly count with an impressive 23 Gatekeepers seen with one Meadow Brown and Common Blue and other butterflies later on in the walk. That day on one piece of booming ragwort I saw one of the Gatekeepers, of course Cinnabar moth caterpillars and common red soldier beetle once more on this flower and also another insect that seems to like ragwort my first ever Antler moth a very pretty one to see. A fifth new identified moth for me in 2020 at that stage as zooming in on nature in my walks rather continued and this being a year I really celebrated moths and noticed and enjoyed them which was great. I took a picture of this one where you could see the yellow from the plant on its antenna which was great. The delve into moths continued that day when we saw a striking caterpillar later on in the walk which turned out to be a Buff-tip moth caterpillar. A fantastic walk of insects and more headlined by these two. The next day back at the beautiful looking Magdalen Hill despite a few showers in the walk on a sunny start and sunny at times I did another big butterfly count. In this it was the first time ever for me I think that Common Blue came out on top in the 15 minutes with 13 seen, the mass second emergence of blues I’d seen at that point continued with two Small Blues the latest in the year I’ve ever seen them and it does seem they emerge a second time in late August so again the butterfly year was shown to be ahead and 1 Holly Blue. Of course my three other leaders in counts this year Gatekeeper with 1, Meadow Brown with 2 and Large White with 4 also featured as well as 3 Six-spot Burnet moths.  As this walk went on it was lovely to see many more Chalkhill Blues this year. Beautiful sights, as was a few poppies in the fields there I took a standout picture of one, meaning that was four species of blue seen that day quite memorable. I did a more specific big butterfly count in the nature reserve area at Lakeside the next day seeing five Meadow Browns, two Large Whites and one Gatekeeper. I also really continued to see and photograph the many brilliant sunflowers we had in our garden over those two days I really did love seeing them this year. On that Wednesday it was a goal achieved this summer to count a Small Copper at Lakeside during a big butterfly count again as I had in my first ever count in 2016. Seeing this one very well and taking a picture in the south eastern meadow areas of the site, alongside 19 Large Whites, 7 Meadow Brown, more great blues with 3 Common and 2 Holly, 2 Small White and 1 Brimstone, Comma and just the one Gatekeeper as they went a bit quiet on those days and Meadow Browns increased a bit, was part of a real burst of butterflies I saw so many again on a hot and sunny walk. It felt fantastic. That night we were lucky and happy to see a bat flying around out the window my first of the year.

I had a great insect day at Lakeside on my walk at lunch time 6th August getting cracking Black-tailed Skimmer and Emperor views a day after seeing a Common Darter there reflecting on with those two especially how I have discovered whilst working from home just how good my local Lakeside is for dragon and damselflies. That day I also saw scores of common red soldier beetles on some nice white flowers which was great. Butterfly wise I loved seeing Brimstone and Large White really well on that walk, I photographed two Speckled Woods late on memorably along the woodland path to the west of the site. That day I didn’t do a big butterfly count I did a memorable one the day before but I reflected with it coming to an end how much I had enjoyed taking part again and again for that month or so. I thought Butterfly Conservation did a fantastic job running the count again it was so easy to do and I just loved having the chance to tell them what butterflies were about and how many in my local Lakeside and other strong butterfly locations in a national and regional context in Hampshire. I felt I was doing my bit and I especially loved the leaderboard on the website at that stage I was 40th out of the millions that took part in terms of how many butterflies I had seen in all my various counts I had counted nearly 700 butterflies in the counts which opened my eyes it was rather good this year for how many butterflies I saw in the summer I must say but to just how many butterflies I do see whilst out in summer especially. The next day was the hottest UK August day since 2003 and I had the pleasure of two Friday Lakeside walks which were very atmospheric that lunch time in the sun with many people enjoying it and relaxing and time full evening vibes it was so light, still, clear and summery. During it all I saw many butterflies; lots of Gatekeepers and Meadow Browns at Lakeside, Large White and a blue possibly in our garden beforehand, some others I didn’t see well enough to identify and a moth or two with one coming in the house that boiling night too. A bee had nearly flown in my room that day and I saw memorable flowers at home and in the wild the sunflowers, fuchsia and buddleia in the garden featuring a lot again I loved seeing them this year as I produced nearly 40 pictures that day! Something that would become common especially for Fridays as the year went on.

As the heatwave continued we went to Farlington Marshes where I had an amazing time for seeing butterflies that Saturday. We firstly finally saw my first Painted Lady of the year a very key species for me to see this year one I always aim to see. It was lovely to see this one and another and what’s more I was able to then include it in a big butterfly count a day before it closed. Meaning for the first time since I started doing this citizen science project in 2016 that every species you can submit sightings of I managed to see at least once in a count which I was proud of. That day was rather stolen though by views of well into double figures of Wall Browns flying around, great to see after getting a quick view of my first of the year flying over the car park at Portland in June. They really were so in place in this dry coastal habitat on one of the hottest days of the year, it was actually the first I had ever seen in Hampshire my home county, and it seems loads emerged in the country over the first part of that heatwave so it was brilliant to be part of it. I also saw as I often do at that time of year here a good few Small Heaths. Completing my butterfly count there were seven Gatekeepers, three Meadow Browns, two Common Blue and Large White and one Peacock and Small White. All of this really underpinned what I’ve learnt the last couple of years and our last visit here in the late spring that this nature reserve we’ve always known for birds is a fantastic location for butterflies too with so many about in the season. It does stand to reason actually as its renowned for its rare and varied grasses I was once told on an information tour round there but it’s something I never truly embraced before. I enjoyed seeing some lovely rock samphire flowers that hot day too.

The next day on the last day of the survey the big butterfly count came to the best possible end for me when among two that day at different locations the other I wrote about in my New Forest highlights post I did an epic one at the beautiful Old Winchester Hill in the South Downs National Park on one of the hottest days of the year. Old Winchester Hill is just a charming meadow adorned landscape in the downs, it simply one of Hampshire’s most beautiful spots in my eyes so it was amazing to be there on what is a now annual visit for us it’s come back into our lives majorly since 2018 thanks to butterflies it was somewhere we discovered early last decade possibly late the one before that. It was another day this year where I saw hundreds of butterflies, 40 Meadow Browns in the 15 minute count led the way as well as 6 Gatekeeper, 6 Large White, 4 Common Blue, 1 Brimstone, Red Admiral, Six-spot Burnet and Small White. That day I also saw many Small Heaths, Brown Argus, Adonis Blue and hundreds of Chalkhill Blues overall once more probably some even tried to land on me which was a sensational intimate wildlife moment for me this year and seeing them all again was just incredible. But most notably on that scorching walk at Old Winchester Hill I saw my first Silver-spotted Skipper and Clouded Yellows of the year seeing three each. It was amazing two of my best butterflies of the year simply, ones I could not guarantee I would see but this place more so for the former but with the latter in my head too gave me the hope to see them and I was so happy I did. I loved sitting on the grass photographing a Silver-spotted Skipper close up and seeing a Clouded Yellow dart past and another land put me in heaven it was more intimate moments. It was one of those utopian afternoons where everything I hoped to happen did really with top birds seen too. The Silver-spotted Skipper and Clouded Yellow sightings together with that Painted Lady at Farlington took my year list over two days from a worthy 40 to a magical 43, overtaking my 2018 total and making my 2020 butterfly year list my second highest ever behind last year. This is no less than my 2020 butterflies deserved for how amazing it’s been, with the amount of butterflies I saw and how positive it all was because from the spring emergence onwards it was to the harrowing backdrop of the huge impact on everyone’s lives the coronavirus had and the lockdown and that. Seeing butterflies were an amazing thing to keep me going during the initial bits of that time. But the restrictions easing to allow slightly further afield travel to exercise happened at the right time for me to luckily see my usual variety of butterflies in years as spring marched on. Then as we hurtled towards summer there was the most notable thing of my butterfly year being how early everything was with my first sighting of nearly every butterfly this year being either my earliest or second earliest ever sighting of one in a year. The whole season was a little ahead. Fitting that the Silver-spotted Skipper was my earliest and Clouded Yellow my third earliest ever sightings of the species in a year. Then through summer the big thing for me I think was the amount of days I saw hundreds of butterflies usually with one lead species but many species together which were exceptional moments and that day was definitely in the top four so far for that. But like the day here last year I saw the Silver-spotted Skipper happiness at this happening at the height of the heatwave was tinged with a little sadness these were my last additions to my butterfly year list this year. What a quick it seemed but sensational journey I have been on for sure. But I’d have taken 43 before the year began and would have jumped at it when lockdown which was needed I would never argue against that the health and wellbeing of everyone came first made it look like it may be difficult to see many of the usual species this year due to locations they are at. I knew there were two species geographically I would not see this year. So to miss out on very few I could have seen is phenomenal I feel and made me so happy. So I was just thrilled with how I’ve done. That day I also saw some brilliant flowers in the meadow everywhere during wildflower hour on Twitter I was told two were Perforate St. John’s-wort and Small Scabious both I had seen a lot of other places this year both were beautiful.

Small Heath and Meadow Brown were lovely pretty butterflies to see quite well as the heatwave continued that following week at Lakeside. That night a lovely big moth flew in to the living room and bounced off the walls, ceiling and light brilliant to watch. As was a reddish insect possibly a moth in the woods south of the bowl at Lakeside a nice fairly secluded little path I’d found the next day and a Meadow Brown surprisingly in this shaded area on another very scorching and sunny day. On a peaceful evening that night to the backdrop of a nice sunset sky I saw another lovely little moth as I went in my room after coming back from a socially distant visit to my Dad’s house that night. My light was off at that point and it flew and fluttered towards the window so I opened it with it on it in case it wanted to get outside. If they’re attracted to a light on inside I’ll probably leave them in for the evening but this one had probably got in either tonight or last night and wanted to get out. After I photographed it on the window it flew off outside into the summer night and there was something quite magic about that. Seeing it against some red in the sky was very interesting in the heat wave. The next day I saw a third Small Dusty Wave moth in the house this year getting very close to it, and alongside some butterflies a beautiful female Common Darter starred on a Lakeside walk that lunch time I took a picture of it so a great couple of moments. On that Friday I saw Meadow Brown and Large White at Lakeside on a lunch time walk it was brilliant to see many pond skaters on a lake and photograph one another lovely insect to enjoy seeing this year. That night belonged to moths with including the Small Dusty Wave from the day before four moths flying into our living room and settled at once. One we didn’t see landed for very long so couldn’t tell which, one was a Yellow Shell one I know well on the eve of my 10 year anniversary of seeing my first ever and the other turned out to be a Heart and Dart one that landed very nicely and I took a macro photo of which I was pleased with the ninth in this photoset one of my best moth photos this year. Another new moth for me this year and this capped off a super summer week of moths for me with so many seen and I felt so interested in and engaged by them. It’s interesting as the butterfly year showed signs of slowing down a bit with my last year ticks, moths then took centre stage as so many are about as the summer gets later. The next morning on a showery day a massive bumble bee came into my room through an open window and tried to get out the closed window. It climbed up the window repeatedly in anticipation then slumped back down when it realised it couldn’t fly out of the top. I stood on my bed beside with a glass and an envelope with something in it to attempt a rescue. I watched it and connected to it, studying its movement and picking my moment. I struck just right and interrupted its rhythm to perfection it seemed by putting the glass over it to capture it. I checked the bee was in the glass, and slid the envelope over the bottom. As I moved the glass and envelope away I just caught sight of it moving in the glass. Then I hung it out of the window with the envelope removed and it flew out. As I watched it fly back into the open air I was relieved that this glorious wild creature was back out into the wild. A rewarding moment. And talking of glass that evening when home I took another picture of the Small Dusty Wave moth in the house on the mirror in the living room which made it a very interesting and unique photo opportunity showing its reflection.

At Hayling Island’s Earnley Triangle and oyterbeds that Sunday that followed I saw some nice butterflies on a rainy turned sunny in the end day including Peacock and Comma and a nice little moth which was great. I photographed a Yellow Shell moth that stayed in the living room a bit that night. I enjoyed the Yellow Shell again the next night, a Monday at Lakeside at lunch I saw and photographed Large White butterfly and saw Meadow Brown well in a sunny patch of a changeable weather day as a whole. That hot period of time I was thrilled to see Large White and Red Admiral in the garden one of my best garden butterfly moments this year it was very precious when I got home. The next day I noted lots more Large Whites at Lakeside in patches of sun which was brilliant to see. I am not sure if it was the decrease in variety of butterfly species at Lakeside making them stand out but Large Whites seemed to be on the increase those few days at Lakeside which was nice for mid-August really. When home that day I was delighted to take a picture of an orange flower one of a patch I took loads of in the garden especially in sunny conditions this year and enjoyed with a lovely minute snail on it in the sun. The next day a very wet one alongside seeing and photographing garden birds in the rain which was enjoyable I noticed perhaps something they helped to create by scattering a seed on the balcony a lovely sunflower there I’d never seen one on the balcony before and when I went to take a photo I noticed a bee on it in a strong year for sunflowers at home I loved seeing them whilst working from home. The next day a much sunnier and hotter one I saw Meadow Brown, Comma and Large White at Lakeside as well as a great view of a lovely male Common Darter in the sun. That night I saw my first ever Box tree moth at home adding to my year and especially summer with so many about of moths well they are so beautiful a lovely black and white moth very striking. Over those next few weeks we had loads around the house and garden. A day I had amazing times on the eve of Devon as I said in my second favourite birds post taking one of the highest amounts and some of my best pictures whilst working from home that day. The next morning we left for our Devon and Cornwall weekend away which I posted about in the eighth of these posts talking about butterflies, other insects and flowers seen during it. The night we returned home we got a very interesting and pretty moth in the house a very unique looking one. I later found out it was an Orange Swift thanks to the kind help of MothIDUK on Twitter a tool I have used so much in my deeper delve into moths this year one of the best moths generally and new moths I have seen for me this year.

The night we returned from Devon I loved photographing a sunflower on the balcony again as I did a lot and we saw a further moth in the garden that Wednesday lunch time another nice one a Willow beauty, before I went on a walk where I was reminded strong butterfly experiences could still be had late on in the peak season in the grasses of Lakeside as I saw many Large Whites what a year I had for them and got really close to and photographed a female Common Blue another Lakeside star for me this unique year. Very nice moments, with one of a few lovely crickets seen this year seen nearby. That Friday I was delighted to see a common green lacewing in the kitchen on the ceiling another fantastic, beautiful and unique insect for me to see especially locally this year. I also loved seeing Great Willowherb at Lakeside flower wise that day not the first time I had seen some here I saw loads late summer this year in my deeper delve into flowers but it was the first time after I found out what it was so I enjoyed taking a picture! I was delighted to get a great Small Copper view as well as see Meadow Brown and Large White and a Southern Hawker flying and looking us in the eye as they are famous for in mid-late summer at Hook-with-Warsash the next day August bank holiday Saturday. I saw Small White and a nice moth later that day when we moved onto Farlington Marshes. In a time when seeing butterflies in a day wasn’t a given anymore with the peak season coming to an end on August bank holiday Monday it was nice to return to the beautiful Old Winchester Hill mostly for birdwatching purposes this time and see Speckled Wood, Peacock and a few Meadow Browns and Large Whites. That day I marvelled at its landscape once again we walked a different way at the top of the place mostly, and it was especially lovely seeing its meadow habitat still in full flair and supporting insects I saw another nice snail that day too and being reminded you can see down to the coast from this big beauty spot I saw the Isle of Wight and Fawley Power station that day. A very memorable day.

The next day at Lakeside it was nice to see another female Common Darter very well a great moment, as well some more St. John’s-wort flower a lovely yellow one I have seen so many this year especially at Lakeside and that night a nice dark brown moth a form of Box-tree moth came in the house which I photographed among a few others seen which was great. The day after I saw some Large White butterflies at Lakeside, another Box tree moth on the buddleia outside as we were inundated with them and some smashing red flowers growing beside the house possibly a snapdragon as I saw some of these growing outside our fence further up and photographed them and enjoyed them this year. The next day I was delighted to see a Common Darter dragonfly a star of those few weeks outside of the house around the vegetation such a lovely species to have so close to home. The next day I saw Speckled Wood and Large White at Lakeside which was nice, as other insects stole the show rather including my first ever known sighting of a really fresh, bright, colourful and lovely looking cyrphus ribesii hoverfly what a beautiful creature to see. I noticed it on the green out the front on my way to Lakeside that lunch time whilst looking at a wonderful spider I saw really well and photographed in a nice web. A generally special and packed day for wildlife and photos for me this year that Friday. I also saw some great flowers that day such as bird’s foot trefoil which I saw so much of in the grass by Lakeside this year and musk mallow which was the same story. The next day as I saw Large Whites at Pennington on a sunny afternoon I decided that day to add three species to my list of favourite butterflies, Green Hairstreak, Marbled White and Brown Argus formerly on my B list of favourite butterflies achieving a promotion after I had a strong 2020 for all and decided I loved them enough to call them favourites. I added species to both my bird and butterfly B lists that day too I like to have thinks and make additions/promotions in March and September each year now, mammals and dragonflies I have a list of favourites but not B lists and whilst I added no mammals Black-tailed Skimmer and Four-spotted Chaser joined their keeled and broad-bodies relatives on my list of favourite dragon and damselflies alongside the Emperor that day too. Alongside the whites dominating the usual species hanging on at the end of the summer on the 6th September the next day I saw I think my latest Common Grayling in a year at Ashley Walk in the New Forest a lovely faded one adding well to the ones I saw in July. I photographed hebe, rose and sedum in the garden that day beforehand which was nice.

To start the new week in early September I enjoyed seeing another spider in my room in the shower a small one and more Common Darters at Lakeside. I also had one of my best ever flower days in the year I am waking up to flowers and learning more and more of them with a greater appetite to notice and photograph them with my new macro lens and with my PlantNet app in hand to help ID them. I got stunning views of as well as nice flowers at home at Lakeside an array of wild flowers I had seen a lot of at Lakeside already this year; Great Willowherb, Purple Loosestrife, Bird’s-foot trefoil, Meadow-cranes bill and buttercup some I learned and consolidated my knowledge on what they were and this just scratched the surface of amazing flowers I saw that day. It was a brilliant botanical year for me up until that point with some of my greatest moments of my year seeing flowers but knowing what more of them were really gave my flower days substance and made it even more exciting to learn and watch them. In autumnal times these flowers in the sun here gave me a slice of summer. The next day there was more of a slice of summer with hot and sunny weather bringing out a good few more butterflies on my daily Lakeside walk notably Speckled Woods one I got very close to and took a picture of and Large Whites, I also saw Emperor and Common Darter dragonfly there that day too a day a wasp flew into my room. Speckled Wood, Large White, Common Darter and Emperor were stars the next day and the day after at Lakeside too, even if it was the peak season end signalling sign being the day I noticed most of Lakeside’s meadows had been mowed with some bits left on the margins with flowers and for insects, in something of an Indian summer for butterflies and those two species in particular in hot and quite sunny weather. I enjoyed fantastic views of an early autumnal boom of the bright and big orange Californian poppies and other flowers on the patch of flowers in the estate I always love seeing and enjoyed immensely photographing them so many times macro shots and views over or the bed in views that week.

I had a monumental moment in my late peak butterfly season when I saw a pale form of another Clouded Yellow on the green outside the house on my way back from Lakeside on 11th September. What a moment to see the something of an enigma of a charming butterfly twice in a year (a month and two days after my first 2020) sighting for the second year running and for the third September on the trot. Seeing an almost white one is not something you see every day either but seeing a butterfly of this calibre which I hope I’ll see every year but it’s never guaranteed more or less outside the house was phenomenal and I loved it joining other notable species I’d seen on this green for the first time ever in this area this year something working from home walks were so good for. I also saw Speckled Wood with Large White in the garden I’d never seen the former in our garden before when I got home and Common Darter and other dragonflies well at Lakeside. Finding some poor man’s weather-glass lovely little red flowers another standout one I’ve seen and learned this year in on the green among more great flowers that day stood out too including daisy like ones I’ve had the best year especially locally for daisies from the lovely oxeye down to the little ones. The next day at Farlington Marshes where we had seen one before in 2018 I was delighted to see a Clouded Yellow fly over in the grasses by the stream. It marked the first time I’d seen this butterfly on three occasions in one year and first time I’d seen two in two days as in a brilliant period of hot and sunny September weather it became a boom year of Clouded Yellows for me really. Exceptional to see, alongside a few of the reserve in late summer specialities I’ve noticed Small Heath, Comma, some Large Whites and a dragonfly that flew very fast and many flowers. It was a good moth night that night too with two great ones seen and I photographed at home including my first ever Garden Carpet moth another great one to see this year.

The next day we went to Martin Down I had never been in September before and whilst you could make out subtle differences to coming when I normally do in the peak butterfly season like angles of sunlight it being so sunny throughout and the high temperature out during a patch of very warm and sunny weather it felt very much like coming here in high spring and summer. Quite confusing in my mind out of context then that the meadows were still brimming with wildflowers which looked lovely but the circus of butterflies was barely there. That was only because a lot had just come to the end of their seasons and were not around anymore. But I did see a whole host of all-season and re-emerging butterflies here that day, most notably Small Copper and Small Heath with some great views of so many of both that afternoon two very nice butterflies. Large White, Peacocks and Meadow Brown were also around on another top day for lots of wildlife seen generally a memorable one. It also became a day for wildflowers largely with so many great ones seen of different colours and shapes I loved that variety of these special organisms, in my growing flower interest the ones I recognised or found out what they are were devil’s-bit scabious, small scabious, common/yellow toadflax or “butter-and-eggs”, common knapweed, rosebay willowherb, harebell one of a few in this group I had seen and photographed before elsewhere this year and enjoyed and some yellow ones possibly a type of ragwort as I love seeing hebe, sunflower and more in the garden before and after our walk that day and getting photos. The next day in a very hot and sunny one in the heatwave I had a brilliant day for butterflies, other insects and other wildlife/flowers at home and Lakeside as I enjoyed seeing Small Copper at Lakeside, Brimstone in the garden for the first ever time I think battling with Large White on the buddleia in the back garden I took the tenth and final picture in this photoset of the Brimstone, my first damselfly for a while a Blue-tailed Damselfly at Lakeside, some dragonflies flying very fast likely an Emperor included, agrimony flower at Lakeside a long yellow one I enjoyed seeing so much of at Lakeside in the meadows this year, a brilliant view of a slow worm at Lakeside, the Californian poppies and others at the flower bed in the estate looked very big which I found interesting that and by them on a really nice spider web I saw a cranefly which was interesting.

I had one of my dragonfly moments of the year the next day at Lakeside seeing another incredibly special one for me I never imagined were at Lakeside really so it showed me once more just what I can see when I open my eyes as in the midst of the heatwave that was upon us I was thrilled to see a special Migrant Hawker over the lakes. My first of the year and only third ever which was a truly brilliant moment with one of our best and mostly lovely coloured dragonflies of the brown, blue and black it was a male I had not often seen the males. This was a good moment for me to continue to learn the species quite a bit too which I liked a strong memory of this Indian summer. This added a late bit of gloss to my dragonfly and damselfly year list as it reached a figure of 14 I was happy with. That afternoon I saw a little dock bug in my room and photographed it before letting it out back into the wild, Common Darter was also a star at Lakeside that day. When I got to Lakeside on my walk on another extremely hot day the heat once more carried on a resurgence of butterflies being about in that period, both Speckled Wood and especially Small Copper are ones I saw in great numbers then alongside Large White at a few locations including here some newer ones emerging perhaps and I loved in the sun taking pictures of Speckled Wood and Small Copper with my macro lens. A great walk seeing them in the sun that day. That night like many as I sat after work the evening was set to a nice almost lazy shine of the sun creating a shaded garden and atmosphere which with the sun setting earlier and earlier as summer made it’s long exit made me nostalgic to how it was at this time of day when I first began working from home in March into April. I was enthused to check the sun setting that if I could after hearing about the dust plumes that had come from the US wildfires coming over to create dramatic sunsets a quite sombre but in a weird way beautifully natural thought showing we are all connected and this could travel and I was delighted to see another nice one that week a beautiful end to a beautiful day. The next day on the balcony I saw a wasp and a spider in its web. I believe the wasp had been ensnared and was to be fed on as I watched it desperately try to escape whilst the spider supervised. I was lucky to witness a though brutal quite fascinating piece of nature up close that day. On my Lakeside walk I enjoyed views of Red Admiral, Speckled Wood again, Small White, Migrant Hawker dragonfly again and Common Darter, a nice big brown moth and some speedwell flowers too as I saw another sunflower around the house in the front garden when home. The next day I liked seeing dragonflies again at Lakeside, another sunflower at home in the patch of flowers outside the fence a nice flower moment despite seeing the beautiful patch in the estate mowed all over which was sad like the mushrooms I mentioned that were in my next of these highlights blogs about autumn, Box Tree moth outside at Lakeside and on the green rather than at home and a Comma and a few other butterflies at Lakeside. I had some great butterfly (and other insect and flower) moments when we went away to Norfolk the following week which I post about in my ninth of these blogs.

On the Saturday we returned from Norfolk I enjoyed seeing hebe, dahlia, fuchsia and more in the garden in bright sunshine and a very nice “T-shaped moth” a plume one I believe in the kitchen. The next day at Fleet Pond in nice sunshine I enjoyed seeing Specked Wood and Migrant Hawker, as well as a growing patch of flowers comically for us situated outside of our fence including sunflower, the snapdragons I noticed frequently here and others. Highlights on my walk to and from Lakeside that lunch time on the Monday that followed included a late Comma I saw one the next day too, a broad-leaved clover I liked photographing and a crane fly and a worm I got pictures of and enjoyed seeing too. I enjoyed seeing Common Darters at Lakeside the next day too. On that Thursday at Lakeside Country Park I loved seeing two Common Darters joined together so in the middle of mating as I had done with damselflies in the spring here and a Migrant Hawker flying over in a nice bright sunny patch. Some white flowering on nettles possibly bee nettles caught my eye at Lakeside that day too as did a pink flower at home in the garden that lunch time. That Saturday as stormy weather emerged and the peak butterfly season was really quietening down I did enjoy a Speckled Wood and quick views of an unidentified dragonfly at Farlington Marshes which was nice. That next Monday I liked seeing a late Large White really on the green out the front and forget-me-nots more lovely flowers to observe over Lakeside on a strong day for flowers where I took lots of pictures of them in the garden one memorably a picture of one on the balcony in slight sunlight reflected onto the screen of the fence. That day I also took a memorable picture of a bumble bee and a hoverfly on the buddleia bush as this plant still really provided into the autumn for these which was so nice. The next day I saw a few Speckled Woods at Lakeside getting one of my best butterfly moments of the year with one seeing it up so close and getting a picture I was happy with. I got nicely close to it on a sunny patch of a day and the way it was flying and landing it was an though it was newly emerged which was interesting. This intimate and connected to nature moment made me really realise how close to the end of the peak butterfly days and days I could take photos of them we were I wasn’t seeing butterflies every day at that stage in changeable weather. I enjoyed a lot of great late butterfly moments here with Speckled Wood this season. A fantastic natural moment, and I loved seeing Migrant Hawkers again at Lakeside that day and Common Darters flying over a flooded area stuck long in the mind.

I saw a few species of butterflies at Lakeside on Wednesday 7th October in some nice sunshine, Speckled Wood and Large White then a dark and orange one I couldn’t quite make out a nice reminder of summer that day. I also enjoyed seeing and photographing a bee nicely and Common Darter dragonflies at Lakeside that day and I had magical moments with more plume moths in the house this year with two seen on the roof and one photographed and another landed on my face, hand, laptop screen and glass which I had a little bit of juice left in so this was a great intimate moment. I got a brilliant Speckled Wood moment that Thursday lunch time as well seeing two together with one flying into the closed wing landed other and regularly opening its wings they both landed on leaves well at Lakeside’s northern path area I enjoyed taking a picture of one of these too as I really enjoyed a late Speckled Wood surge at the start of October. That Friday at Lakeside in grass by a lake by the lake I saw a Common Blue butterfly which was a surprise. Then I saw two dragonflies which I am seeing a lot of over Lakeside during those weeks Common Darters and Migrant Hawkers with pairs of both looking to mate which was really interesting making it memorable for a sunny day. I also enjoyed seeing some blueweed there and taking picture of it flowers I liked seeing in early June too. That Sunday at Pennington by the coast the marshes I liked seeing Large White and some sea aster photographing the latter. I saw a lot of nice and late flowers those weeks both at home and in the wild alongside some more autumnal perhaps bramble flower that I really enjoyed a lot at Lakeside as I really noticed this year like no other how late flowers last in years as a whole. Or it being my first year of deeply observing flowers I didn’t really know but others observed that this is a notable thing of 2020 so many flowers staying out later. On Thursday 15th October on a very hot and sunny day I got another fantastic Speckled Wood view almost walking into it focusing my eyes on a bush and then all of a sudden seeing it there in front of me. I noticed nice flowers and joined-together Common Darters that day too, I saw both of these things the next really sunny day too. That following Sunday night a plume moth in the house landed on my water bottle lid right beside me making for a great photo opportunity, it stayed on my untouched in that time bottle lid for an hour or more a really intimate wild moment. I really did see so many of these plume moths in the house this year which was fantastic. I saw all sorts of insects in the house and whilst working from home really took notice of lots of lovely little insects which was a key theme of my year. The plume was still around the next evening after I walked at a still quite green looking Lakeside that Monday and all through the sunny walk I was delighted to see Common Darter dragonflies still doing well in October. That day it really was teeming with them I did see so many. The highlight of the day was seeing a male and female together, they were mating I got a nice picture of this or just starting mating as mating dragonflies are usually in a heart shape from the two of their bodies together quite beautifully. These two clearly had their reproductive organs connected but they were flying about and landed briefly so it was perhaps before the heart shape was formed to complete the copulation. I had seen the Common Darters particularly and other dragonflies do this at Lakeside a lot of times this year those few weeks being joined together in such a strong dragonfly and damselfly year I’ve had generally and at Lakeside. This moment and that day a strong part of that this year. That Thursday on a very sunny day I enjoyed seeing another spider in the house which was lovely as well as enjoy lots of flowers at home and see a another broad-leaved clover flower at Lakeside. The next day I loved seeing another Migrant Hawker there on a sunny Friday lunch time.

The following Monday I enjoyed seeing a Common Darter at Lakeside again as it became a bit of a day of flowers with broad-leaved clover and daisy seen very well by me on the way out of Lakeside and I took pictures and I took pictures of some pink and red ones in the garden which I had looked forward to doing so that day a sunny one, an interesting small moth possibly a brown house one as I had seen before was in my room that day too. I enjoyed seeing a hawker dragonfly either migrant (most likely) or southern by the Lakeside entrance that Wednesday still hanging on nearly into November by that point. I saw lots of daisies and broad-leaved clovers around those weeks flower species really hanging on. It stood out getting into the winter seeing the clovers alongside other stars of my flower year really nicely seen a great reminder of summer sea aster and common toadflax the next day at Lymington in the Lymington-Keyhaven nature reserve at the bottom of the New Forest. In my bonus eleventh highlights post this year about my November and December I also wrote about topics covered in this blog.

[moonscarsandstars]

please try to enjoy this ancient artefact that i wrote long ago.

~~~

An eleven year old James Potter was much lonelier than he thought he'd be. Everyone else seemed to know where to go, and they all knew each other except for him. Everything was fine when his parents were with him, until he stepped onto the train and realised he hadn't the first idea what to do.

Platform nine and three quarters was so much better than he expected it to be. Bustling families everywhere, laughing and smiling. Many other kids his age and way older running around, catching up on what they had missed. 

James really couldn't wait till he was a part of this happy, free crowd of children.

And he was filled with excitement, until he realised how lost he really was. His parents didn't tell him what to do on the journey. Didn't they mention a sorting ceremony at the start? He really wanted to be in Gryffindor. How was supposed to do that?

James wandered down the aisle, to find a compartment that wasn't filled with huge sixth or seventh years, who practically looked like adults. 

Each compartment was filled with groups of people who all seemed to know each other. Except for one at the end, which James checked inside, and saw only one small kid, practically hiding from the rest of the school. And he didn’t look okay.

He had three deep scars running down his face, and looked a bit paler than he should've been. He was somewhat tall for a boy around James's age, and looked pretty lanky, with his robes hanging off of his body. Messy, light brown hair covered his head. His hazel eyes were filled with fear, with dark shadows under them. The boy looked positively terrified at the sight of another person. 

The kid looked pretty young, and was hopefully also a lonely, scared first year that James could befriend.

"Hey, is it okay if I sit here?" His voice sounded less brave than he wanted it to. The hazel-eyed boy seemed to consider the idea for a brief moment before quickly nodding and muttering something that sounded like "sure."

"So, um..." said James, trying to make conversation. "What's, uh, what's your name? I'm James, by the way,"

"Uh, hi James," said the boy in a quiet, somewhat raspy voice. "I- uh, my name is Remus. Remus Lupin." With the shy smile he gave, the boy looked slightly surprised at the idea of someone talking to him. "Are you also a first year?"

"Yeah, I am! Nice to finally see another one of me!" said James with a huge grin overtaking his face. His usual confidence came back after seeing the boy smile.

The other boy seemed to warm to James, as he curiously asked "Do you have any idea what Hogwarts is like?"

"Not really, my parents didn't tell me that much about it. But they talked to me about the different houses! Have you heard of them? I really want to be in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart, like my father!" He wielded an imaginary sword, with an exaggeratedly proud and noble look on his face, making Remus laugh a little.

Another young-looking boy walked in, interrupting the moment. He had combed, black hair, that reached just above his shoulders, and warm but intense, grey eyes that were filled with emotion. A serious expression occupied his face, but James could see it was masking fear and anger underneath. Why?

The boy's entire body broke into relief at James’s offer for him to join them. Remus stared at the boy, with an interesting, somewhat captivated expression on his face. Awe? Anger? James couldn't tell.

"Please tell me you're also first years," mumbled the boy in a guarded voice. 

Seeing the other two eagerly nodding, he looked much happier. "I'm Sirius," he said, much more relaxed, with a wide grin taking over his face.

"I heard you talking about Gryffindor from outside, and I have to say, I couldn't agree more," the boy- Sirius- said excitedly, making James light up. "But everyone else in my family's in Slytherin," he finished, with a hint of disgust.

"And there I was, thinking you seemed decent," said James, with mock sadness, which followed with Sirius adding almost fearfully "but I don't think I'm going to be in Slytherin!"

The three chattered on throughout the journey, though Remus stayed guarded and seemed unwilling to reveal much about himself. Sirius seemed like a worthwhile person, and Remus was definitely someone to stick around.

But something told James that they were both definitely hiding some secrets of their own, no matter how cheerful and friendly they both seemed. By the time they reached Hogwarts, James could've said he'd made two new friends.

The castle could be seen far away as they reached the station, and Merlin, it was beautiful. The huge, bricked, grey walls towering over the cliffs, with the greenhouses on one side, and a huge quidditch pitch that made James's face light up with joy and excitement. They reached the station, where a giant, jolly man with a huge beard and loads of hair welcomed them, and told all the first years to follow him.

The giant, beetle-eyed man, whose name was Hagrid, cheerfully lead them towards a small river, or a big stream, where a dozen or more small boats were floating atop of. James, the two other boys in his carriage, and two other kids climbed into one of the boats.

"What're your names?" James eagerly asked, earning him a tired scowl from Remus.

"I'm Lily, and he's Severus," replied the redheaded girl, who was sitting next to a miserable looking boy with greasy black hair. James thought she looked really pretty. "We've been friends for a really long time now," she added.

"Cool, well I'm James, and these are-"

"I'm Sirius. Sirius Black, and..."

"I- I'm Remus Lupin," Remus said in a soft voice, while staring at the floor. Lily's gaze seemed to linger on him for just a second longer than the others.

While excitedly chatting with everyone on the boat, James figured he didn't like the look of Severus, who remained quiet while glaring outside. Exchanging glances with the other two he'd met earlier, he could tell that they didn't like him either.

The girl, Lily, however, seemed really nice, and was liked by even Remus, which was surprising, as the quiet boy didn't seem to like any of the others they'd talked to on the way. Her intense green eyes went well with her fiery red hair. Everything about her was fierce.

They clumsily climbed out of the boats, as there seemed no graceful way to do it, and made their way toward the giant gates ahead of them. They could see the entire castle, and Merlin, was it beautiful. The giant walls stretched out high, and had a sort of ancient, full-of-wisdom feeling to it. James could swear he felt the building radiating magic. The entire place seemed surreal, and in a way, enchanting.

The gates opened, revealing the interior, which was even more magical. Huge staircases leading up to giant doors. Giant moving portraits decorated a few of the walls. James couldn't wait to spend his school years here. He could hear Remus loudly gasp, while Sirius audibly exclaimed different variations of the word "wow," at least five times.

At the top of the staircase, a woman was waiting for them. She was wearing emerald green robes with black lining, and had a stern face, and a tight, black bun. But her eyes, though the rest of her face was scary, were smiling at the crowd of eleven-year olds eagerly waiting for their journey at Hogwarts to begin.

And though they didn't know it yet, that's where their story started.