#the way i made her was inspired by a simmer i follow but i forgot what their url is lol oops
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ecofinisher · 4 months ago
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Ecofinisher's crediting list for the "Ecofinisher 2.0 Sims 4 Game File" (Version 2)
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(This is basically the same version, just switched the screenshots and added missing families. I meant to edit the other one, but I have no idea, Tumblr doesn't let me or my knowledge of this page is just too low)
https://www.tumblr.com/ecofinisher/747830238720016384/ecofinishers-crediting-list-for-the-ecofinisher?source=share
About two months ago I think, I was thinking about wanting to do another save file again on Sims 4, but I didn’t know when exactly. During a procrastination moment I got into with fanfic writing, I took a small break and did other things, got from a work friend a couple of notebooks since she knows I love to write and I wrote down something I dreamt once wondering if it could be turned into a plot…..then as it was actually something for Sims, I thought about writing it down as a family summary. Around that week, I gathered more ideas and noticed down, what I had in mind to do. From an instruction video, I read the many variations people used in their save files and I decided to use the content only from the gallery. Content made by other Simmers. There are a few families out there, that I still created or downloaded from my starter-times in the game, because it wasn’t enough or I didn’t have any family in mind to fit the plot.
Notes:
- This save file contains objects and clothings from the following pack: Get To Work, Cats and Dogs, Werewolves, My first pet (Free/UTB free) and Holiday Celebration (Free/UTB free).
-The following worlds were used in the save file: Willow Creek, Oasis Springs, Newcrest, Magnolia Promenade, Brindelton Bay (1 new lot, the rest remains the same), Moonwood Hill. (1 new family is located there)
-The game should be free from any CC. There’s a possibility, that it could have something I have missed.
- I recently installed MasterController and some things I have fixed with it, rather than manually. *coughs* career.promote-cheats….you know, that way.
Moving on, here is the link, and it's packed inside a ZIP-file with a PDF file of all the buildings I screenshotted straight from the gallery with the original creator's name. The screenshots were too many for this single post only and it would be annoying to make more posts solely for that. The PDF file consists of 30 pages, but most of the sheets are just screenshots and the family that lives in it.
On the rest of this post, I have the crediting list for the households I downloaded from the Gallery. Go under the cut to check the screenshots out.
Link via Sims File Share:
Click down here:
Households (Inspired by Sims-media)
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The Alto family. The red-marked is the original one from the gallery from user gemz123. The one you'll find in my game has base-game content only. I only have the mentioned packs above and tried to stay closer to the original.
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The Alvi-McIrish household. (McIrish are based on the mother-daughter duo from Ts3's Single Moms household and the Alvi are the ones with the single divorcee Dad from Sunset Valley) I had the Alvi's saved a long time ago in my gallery and I couldn't track back the right creator. I assume it was hestiah23. I only remember redesigning their clothes back then. McIrish as seen in the red square was made by gemz123.
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From gemz123 I have gotten her parents. As far as I know, the user hasn't made its own version of Blair as far as I know. So my current favorite version of Blair is from this user mentioned in the image. (Oh I also took screenshots to facilitate for everyone, when looking for those versions on the gallery.
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Taken from my other save file I shared back in 2023. Here you see hestiah23, the original creator and the clothing were put into owned games to prevent them from being "naked" (Oh and Judy's a scientist, lol I forgot about that)
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The Goode and Bad household from Twinbrook. Ah from the last sales I bought Ambitions and played with them. (It was the only family I was familiar with 😂Wish I had got the game earlier)
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Where are my former PSP gamers at? Do you all remember Annie Howell, the bar girl? I remembered her existence and had to add her in the game as well, knowing that she was a werewolf in the game and I had the pack as well! TengGong had made a great Sims 4-version of them. If you own said packs, you're definitely going to enjoy having them in your game. I had to go with what I had and follow somehow the PSP design.
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I had a different plot for them, but changed at a later point. I was meant to focus on either Kaylynn or Parker, but ended up getting the idea to make Iliana "the main character" Iliana being the workaholic we know suddenly finding herself lost and needing to find her way back to reality. The Langeraks and Zelda are shared separatly, but were made by the same user. Also gemz123. The dog is from the user rnr1975 and is the house dog of Iliana and served as her therapy dog during her low days. I picked a Leonberger, which only exist in the gallery by other users as the game didn't own one in the breeds list.
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The Jones-Brown family. Also from Twinbrook. They're not part of the plan, they are homeless. I thought about adding Jenni, because of the summary of the Goode and Bad household.
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Yeah, I gave Mortimer parents in the game. They're also from the gallery, just one of the two happens to be dead now. - They also are dressed differently in the game. Very hideous, sadly :/ If you got the packs above, you'll get this look as DolphinSimmer13 made 😍
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The Sekemotos - OK, in the game they live separately. Yumi lives in a smaller house in Newcrest and Leighton is located in Oasis Springs with his toddler Sam. Everyone's favorite "legacy daddy" lives just like in the OG Sims 3 as a single Dad, just he might be interested in someone in this new town. If something is going to happen between them in the future.....it's up to you.
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The Ursine household - Like girl, screw Jared Frio and everything, that happened in Sunset Valley. Take your daughter to a new place and raise her on you own. You have seen in life more men and women were doing the same with their kids and it's possible. Also from gemz123 - Simmers, seriously all his Sims 3-inspired Sims look so close to the original. This user so far has impressed me with how detailed the results were.
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The Wainwrights - Owning the Get to Work park, they deserved to make an appearance somewhere in the game as well. "Eco, what idea did you even have for them? People barely know them?"
I stuck with the same plot as in Sims 3, just it progressed here 😂 I had read recently, that Oasis Springs is basically Strangetown, so....military, science freaks, weird shit.....why not?
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Ok Ignore the name there, I had to remove their original kids from the save file and that was just my "emergency save name" - Just in case I save households during CAS, because you know.....freezes, crashes and mostly at the wrong moment. Luckily nothing has ever happened to me in the past weeks, but you never know. (As an avid fanfic writer I learned to press CTRL-S every 10 seconds to avoid trouble 😭)
They live separately in the game. Thornton had an affair with Jamie, while being married to Morgana. Both women figured it out and broke his heart and became friends. What happened next? Guess, who fulfilled Morgana's deepest desires? 😏
Households (Inspired by other media)
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The Ritchi household. (In other names "The Megamind household)
They were both variations of them alone or together already. I preferred these two versions from two different users and set them together in the game. Roxanne doesn't need a lot of packs and Megamind is base game, so you wouldn't have a problem, when downloading them from the gallery.
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Time & Space household (Inspired by youngest children of Clavell Jr, Langerak Jr and Caliente household)
On the right side, you'll see after whom the adult Sims are inspired by. If any of you have played or seen my previous Save File reviewed by Savythatsimmer around July 2023. This is where the Sims are from, just they're adults here. The household name already reveals that they're "time travelers" which are for some reason in this save file.
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Kurtzberg household (Inspired by previous save file & Miraculous LB)
I had created them along with their "fanon kids" of mine in Sims 4 back in 2019 and reused them in this save file. Just like most of the families they didn't have a lore back then, so I made one based on their oldest daughter, who just like her father was shy and reserved, but things would eventually change in her new home in Willow Creek.
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Couffaine (Inspired by Miraculous Ladybug and a post of Simmer Nikethesimmer)
Luka already existed in my game married to Marinette and their common son, Rouven. I had in mind to create a different family, but remembered I had Adrien somewhere in the gallery with his family and switched everything up and gave them kids with CAS-DNA thing two kids, then killed the kids' parents off for the drama of the summary 😂I can't recall the exact info of the summary, basically Luka saw Marinette on her dead-bed and promised to raise her children, despite not having any relation to them. Sounds weird? I dunno, it didn't back then. (Oh yeah they drowned in the game, because there is no other way to "make them have an accident"......Or I can say they died on a cruise like Toby's parents in Tales of Arcadia....Good idea....
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Rodriguez household (Inspired by Snow Queen Mirrorlands and the two boys' "in-law rivalty" 😶)
Because canon didn't care about showing their relationship in the new movie nobody asked (OK we did, but SOMETHING WAY DIFFERENT) we can improvise with Sims 😂 Here Gerda is engaged with her boyfriend Rollan and lives with him together in a new house, but invited her younger brother Kai to live with them until he's old enough for an independent life. Kai has a hard time accepting Rollan in Gerda's life after a past incident and despite things having changed for the best, he still can't help it. Perhaps it's a brother-sister thing. It's up to you to see, if their relationship improves or not.
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Lopes household (Inspired by the family of the same name from Mar Salgado, a Portuguese soap opera)
About the Live-Action pictures, they're just portraits from the channel's page of character introduction, this is why the clothing is so random. I had used another screenshot for each character and the family was created around 2017. The summary in the game is just like in the show, just downplayed.
I just ran out of pictures, the next family would also belong to the same show, but it would consist of 7 pictures, but I don't want to start or remove anything from here :/
This is all I got, if you want some bonus here are names of non-mentioned families :D.....Without pictures of course :/
Herzog = Inspired by random names in Dutch,.
Sarutobi = Names from Anime characters.
Kaufmann = Random gathered
Blanco = Enrique Iglesias and Nazaré novela parody.
Furtado = Based on Sims 3 character of mine. (Look he exists since 2009, Furtado I just took from Nelly Furtado, cause I liked her songs back then)
Disaster = Inspired by one Simpsons episode.
Lucia Noceda = Inspired by Luz Noceda from The Owl House and Lucia from GTA 6
Stanford - Inspired by the Madagascar movie.
Werewolves = Random wolf-themed names.
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adaodinson · 4 years ago
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Thank you
I got the inspiration for this since I watched Rush again (one of my favorite movies). I really enjoyed writing it so I hope you enjoy reading it :)
And well my obsession on Daniel Brühl makes no sign on leaving any time soon, so I’m putting that to good use.
Summary: Niki notices his new neighbor the second she moves in next to him, will you notice him?
Warnings: swearing, assholes and Niki being a little shit that knows what he’s doing.
Relationship: Niki Lauda x fem!reader.
You sighed as you carried the last box into your new house. You had started taking everything inside with a rather positive energy, but after four hours you were exhausted. Everything was now inside, but as you closed the door and turned to look at your small living room, the sight made you want to cry. Sure, everything was inside, but it was still packed up.
-You know what- you talked to the air- I´ll do that tomorrow, I´m gonna treat myself cause this was fucking exhausting-.
You walked towards your new kitchen. Of course, the only things that were unpacked were your writing tools and cooking tools. As you walked around the counter a sudden feeling of tired happiness filled you. You had finally found a job you adored, and at the need, you didn´t hesitate in moving out from your country into this new, small place. It was perfect for a person or two; or as your case happened to be, one person and two cats. You were starting, doing what you loved, and you knew it was going to be tough, but you weren´t expecting anything else.
Almost automatically, you started settling all the ingredients for spaghetti bolognesa on the counter, and since you knew the recipe by heart, the only thing you used your phone for was to play your favorite music. As you danced and sang around, you moved gracefully, working with the stove, chopping what was needed and mixing expertly. You had always loved cooking, and you were pretty good at it, if you said it yourself. But you never saw it as a career. Your thing was writing.
As you waited for the pasta to cook and the sauce to simmer, you looked outside the window when a sudden light in the next-door house was turned on. It was pretty close, so you had a good sight of the inside. It looked cozy, but it seemed whoever lived there didn´t spend most of their time inside. Curiously, you waited to see if you could get a glimpse of the person, but after a few minutes passed, you gave up and went back to the kitchen.
Niki was just arriving to his house. He was, as usual, exhausted. All he wanted was to finish the phone calls he needed to do and go to bed, but an amazing smell that he immediately recognized as bolognesa caught his every action. He headed for the window, and that was when he saw you. You were wearing a pair of dark blue pants and a purple hoodie, and even though your mother would have said you looked like a homeless person, Niki thought you were insanely cute. Of course he always kept that kind of thoughts to himself, but he couldn´t help but staring as you danced around the kitchen, checking on the pasta and mixing up the sauce. He could get a rather low volume of your so inspired singing, but what he managed to hear was beautiful.
-Huh, she´s pretty, dances, cooks, and sings… what a sight I get from here- He said to himself, allowing his mind to take you in and think of you, not only in a bit of a sexy way, but in a cute one as well.
From that day on Niki caught glimpses of you many times, doing different things. He learnt so much about you, but at the same time, he knew nothing. It was obvious you had two cats, and that they loved you as much as you loved them. His heart had ached the first time he saw you laying on your small garden, with your back facing up, and with both of your cats cuddled on top of your back as you slept. For those moments, he allowed himself to feel, knowing it wouldn´t lead anywhere. But it was only for those few minutes that he saw you that he let his mind find somebody so cute and not try to find something wrong with them. He never expected people to know who he was, but he thought someone like you wouldn’t have gone unnoticed at the races, not just by him, but by the other drivers as well, so he knew you probably didn´t know him for his career.
You had seen your new neighbor a few times, and God wasn´t he attractive. You swore you had seen him somewhere, but couldn´t quite place your finger on where. You knew nothing about the guy, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop making fake scenarios in your head; ones in which he would look at you for the first time and fall for you, but you knew it was normal to fantasize that way. The day you finally talked to him though, was a... weird one, to say the least.
You had bought a new couch but forgot to specify in the delivery form that you needed help taking it inside, so when you saw the huge furniture, you felt like screaming.
Niki was arriving from a morning of work with Clay. It was one of those rare days in which he got an afternoon for himself. After parking his car, he walked towards his house, and as he reached for his keys he stepped on something and fell on his ass with a hard smack.
-OUCH- he whined as he tried getting up. The second you felt something hit your foot you knew something was going to go wrong, and when you turned to see your cute neighbor (that happened to have an Austrian accent) on the ground with an angry face, your fear came real.
-What the hell was… watch out next ti…-He yelled but couldn´t finish. The second he saw you on your knees holding the wrap around the couch, he realized he had stumbled with your foot, and his angry face immediately changed into a soft one.
-I´m sorry, is your foot okay?- He asked, feeling stupid at the second the words left his mouth. You looked at him with a confused and embarrassed look.
-What? No, don´t you apologize, I´m sorry, I should have been more careful as to where I was sitting. Please don´t apologize, are you okay?- You said as you stood up and offered your hand to help him get up.
-Yeah, I´m fine, do you need help with that?- Niki knew there were first times for everything, but he cringed at the words that were coming out of him, they seemed to make you happy though, so it didn´t bother him for that long. He wasn´t always an asshole, but he definitely wasn´t used to being nice either. Around you it seemed to come out automatically, and he hated it but loved the way it made you smile. He had so many mixed feelings that he was actually feeling nervous. What the hell is wrong with me, he thought.
-Oh yes please! If it´s not too much trouble, I´ve been trying to take this inside for 40 minutes and well, you can see how good that´s going- He chuckled softly and you felt your heart skip a beat at the sound.
Without another word, he headed for one side of the couch as you grabbed the other one, but before you could lift it, about three people with shirts that spelled “James Hunt” interrupted.
-Hey rat face- a tall, dark haired man said as the other two behind him laughed- hey cutie, is the asshole bothering you?- He said looking at you. Who the hell does this idiot think he is?
Niki´s face was serious, just serious. He didn´t even look at the guy, almost as if he was used to that type of thing happening, and he made no sign to want to do anything about it. It impressed you how it seemed like he genuinely didn´t care about this guy, but you weren´t taking any of it, so before any of the idiots said anything else, you spoke.
-No, actually, the ugly assholes bothering are you three shitheads, so if you could walk on and leave us alone, I would mostly appreciate it- You said with a harsh tone and a serious grin. Niki dramatically turned his face with a shocked and amused expression towards you. The three guys didn´t seem to have any clever response, but their heads were too filled with ego to actually leave.
-Hey, you heard her! Go away assholes!- Niki finally said. They walked looking at each other. They clearly weren´t expecting any of you to talk back.
-Thank you- Niki said with an almost inaudible tone.
-Don´t thank me- you said with a smile- the idiots only wish they were as handsome as you are...- That last part came out without you wanting it to. You immediately covered your mouth with your hand and tried to ignore the surprised but hugely amused grin on Niki´s face.
-I´m sorry, I´m sorry, I didn´t mean to say that I…-
-Do you really think that?- You would have liked to say he was genuinely asking, maybe he was, but now it was pretty clear he was teasing you because of the stupid smirk that covered his face.
-Maybe…- You said as you looked to the floor.
-I´m Niki- He said as he took his hand from the couch and placed it for you to shake. That smirk was still plastered in his face.
-I´m Y/N…- You said hesitantly as you shook his hand, not looking at his face.
-You´re beautiful, you know?- Niki stated with a proud tone. Oh he knows what he´s doing.
You weren´t even able to answer, your face was redder than the apples that were hanging from the tree in front of your house, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn´t come up with any way of teasing him back.
-So, let´s take this inside- He said as he lifted the couch. You only nodded and followed. Niki was dying. He found it so insanely cute and amazing how just a few seconds ago you were being a badass against the assholes that bothered him, but when he complemented you, you couldn´t even bring yourself to answer.
You had no stairs, but it was a relatively long trip, so you really appreciated his help. As you settled the couch on it´s place, both of you fell dramatically into it and sighed at the effort.
-Let me make dinner for you, as a thank you- You said shyly but with a little bit more confidence.
-I´d love that, gorgeous- He said as he winked, and you felt your insides melting. Once again, he had you wrapped around his finger, you both knew it, and you both loved it. You led him to the kitchen and as you pulled out the ingredients, you felt two hands hesitantly grabbing your waist. Hesitantly not because he wasn´t sure he wanted to place his hands on your waist, but because he didn´t want to overstep.
You leaned into his touch and he got the answer he wanted. All afternoon you spent dancing with Niki behind you, talking with you and complementing how amazing everything smelled. You secretly thanked your past self for forgetting to ask for help on the couch, since that mistake led to one of the best things in your future: Niki Lauda.
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sharksimmer-blog · 8 years ago
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have this hot bitch to make up for the fact I haven’t been posting any sims of my own lmao
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thecandywrites · 5 years ago
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Of Heaven and Fire Part 4
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SO. I would officially like to apologize for this part because ANGST because I am a big meanie. But I SWEAR, it’s gonna be ok...eventually. This is gonna have a happy ending, I promise, but the plot- much like a strong wave of the sea, took out my knees and ankles and sent me into a faceplant. And like in Liar Liar when Jim Carey is in the bathroom beating himself up. And is going OW OW OW. That was me, writing this. and that’s probably going to be you reading this. Oh also you know that vine of a guy scaring this boy who looks like he’s like- 9 and he screams like a little girl and then stares death at the person who scared him? just remember that scream for halfway through this chapter. That was my inspiration. 
In case you missed it- Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 
Tagging @probablyclever​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ and @imherefortheforthefanart​ Enjoy. 
You changed your outfit and folded the blanket up and returned it to Brock’s room but he was gone. You knocked on Cugas’ door but he wasn’t there and when you peeked onto the deck, only the night crew were there finishing up their shift as the sun rose over the horizon. 
“Wow, you’re an early riser miss.” Cygla, the night captain, noted as he saw you peek your head up. 
“I am.” You smiled as you came up on deck, your moura cloak turning into a fur coat to keep out the chill in the air as you looked up and noticed the clouds. 
“Oh no,” you groaned in realization as you recognized the cloud formation and even now you coud see certain beings gearing up for something big. 
“Aye, there be a storm brewin’.” He agreed. 
“Yeah, a storm.” You huffed a laugh as you just shook your head. 
“Do you know where the captain is?” You asked him. 
“Probably having breakfast.” He mused. 
You nodded and walked down below deck and walked to the galley where the chef was making both breakfast for the day crew and dinner for the night crew. 
“Goodmorning Miss Yana,” the cook Ms. Avag, Cygla’s wife greeted you cheerfully. 
“Good morning, have you seen the captain?” You asked. 
“Not yet, ya hungry? I got honey cakes today.” She noted as she gestured to a stack of pancakes sweetened with honey. 
“Yeah, I’ll take one,” you nodded before she got a bowl and put one in there with an extra drizzle of honey and a piece of fried steak with some scrambled eggs before she sent you on your way as you carefully walked through the ship- looking for either Cugas or Brock as the day crew were still sleeping as you searched but didn’t see anyone before you felt a pull on your waist and looked down to see the belt pulling you towards the stairs again and decided to follow where it led you.
You found yourself at the stairs to the bottom of the ship where a huge tank of water sat where they would keep the fish once they caught them as Brock was explaining last night’s events to Cugas who was laughing hysterically as Brock was just a flustered mess. 
“You’re not helping!” Brock complained as Cugas wiped the tears from his eyes and stood up straight from being bent over. 
“The woman of your dreams healed you and then slept with you half naked, you’re the only straight man on the planet who would think that’s a problem.” Cugas chuckled as he held his gut. 
“She still hates me though and she’s getting suspicious and I...I don’t know what to do.” Brock complained. 
“Well I mean you took a step in the right direction, you made her a space of her own and took off that barbaric chain, which frankly, I’m still appalled you kept it on her even when she showed you her true self.” Cugas pointed out. 
“I know, I know, I didn’t...I just didn’t realize it or think about it until I saw it.” Brock groaned. 
“Then why the fuck is the shackle still on her?!” Cugas demanded. 
“Because she’ll fly away, I can’t lose her yet.” Brock defended as Cugas groaned in aggravation. 
“Brock, she’s already gone. Her body is here, but her soul and spirit stayed on that mountain. She has rage like a wildfire simmering just underneath her sweet exterior and the only way she’s going to calm that and the only way she’s going to really be here- is if she’s free to choose to be so. There isn’t a room or even a palace big enough that you could build for her that she won’t feel like it’s a cage and she will fight you until she draws her last breath. The fact that we’re sailing to the black waters just so she can try to talk to some water dragons- which is still all kinds of stupid dangerous which she’s putting her life in the line for- just to be free- no one should have to do that. Now that we know what we’re dealing with now we go about fishing so that we won’t ice the boats anymore. In my book- just her figuring that out would be enough to earn her freedom. This is just ridiculous, call this off, free her.” Cugas insisted. 
“No,” Brock argued. 
“And it’s your stubbornness that will lose her for good. It’s a matter of time before her brethren come for her. And when they do, they’ll ask for more than any or all of us are willing to pay and when she leaves, none of us will see her or her kind again. And what would it solve?” Cugas asked. 
“That’s not your problem to fix.” Brock growled. 
“Yeah it will be because when her brethren come for her- it’s your head they’ll ask for and who would you rather lead the clan? Me or your brother Acosh? Who’s still only 11?” Cugas asked. 
“It’s not going to come to that.” Brock insisted. 
“Wanna bet?” Cugas asked just as someone came up behind you and scared the shit out of you, making you scream and jump up and cling to the ceiling just as Brock and Cugas came running up the stairs to see you laughing as you still clung to the ceiling, your wings sprouted from your back, covering your body as your hands and feet became clawed to hang onto the rafters as the poor crewman was knocked a good 20 feet away by your protruding wings as you crawled on the ceiling towards him, asking him if he was ok as he was laughing himself. 
“Are you ok?” You asked him. 
“Yeah, I’m ok, lessoned learned, never sneak up on a moura.” He chuckled as he found his feet as Brock and Cugas got up the stairs and stared at him before they looked up and saw you clinging to the ceiling with your wings out. 
“What happened?” Cugas asked. 
“I was looking for you and just as I found you- he startled me and it must have triggered my angel reflex.” You answered as you tried to get down but it was like you were glued to the ceiling and once you let go, you stayed up there. 
“Well, fuck.” You chuckled as you tried to push off the ceiling to the floor but it was like you were a balloon filled with helium and you bobbed right back up. 
“OK so talk to me- explain what’s going on so we can figure out how to help.” Cugas invited as you tried to figure out how to get down. 
“My angel reflex kicked in, heavenly moura have an ability to turn off gravity’s hold on them and become lighter than the surface air, that’s why they can walk on the clouds like you would walk on the grass. Only heavenly moura are in this reflex all the time and why and how they can stay in the heavens and fly so effortlessly. And up until now, it was believed that mountain moura lost this reflex because we’re half breeds not full bloods. But the problem is- I’ve never experienced this reflex before so I don’t know how to turn it off.” You explained as you struggled against the ceiling like your body was trying to pull through the wood itself and it was incredibly exhausting fighting against it before you had to stop struggling and rest for a bit because the longer you were in this reflex, the stronger the pull became. 
“By the way captain, a storm is brewing out of nowhere.” The crewman informed Cugas. 
“It’s not out of nowhere.” You argued. “It’s a heavenly moura holiday, last night was the beginning of the fourth lunar month, that means every heavenly moura will be coming for the celebration and how they celebrate is they like to fly in a cyclone, problem is- with billions of heavenly moura, flying in a big circle causes hurricanes for those on the surface. If we had left a couple of weeks ago, we’d be back home by now and be out of danger.” You insisted with a look to Brock. 
“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Brock demanded. 
“Because I forgot all about it until I saw it this morning when I was looking for you on the top deck, the hurricanes get downgraded to storms by the time they reach the mountains and the mountain mouras need the rain.” You explained as you felt yourself grow hot with anger as your body started to glow before you heard a singe as you looked and noticed your form singed the wood before you tried to roll over and at least get on your hands and knees so you could crawl on the ceiling as your wings seemed to want to be glued to the ceiling and rafters around you. 
“Fuck these wings are heavy.” You cursed as you struggled to move just a couple of feet before you just collapsed and your face was smooshed against the ceiling, even your hair was splayed out around you like you were laying on the floor. 
“Oof,” you exclaimed as you just laid there. So much for saving some reserves.
“We’ll deal with it when it comes, right now, we need to focus on getting you off the ceiling.” Cugas insisted to keep Brock from arguing further before you got an idea. 
“Brock- get the chain.” You told him. 
“Why?” Brock asked. 
“Just get it, I have an idea.” You urged him before Cugas pushed him towards the stairs. 
“Well go! Do you have to be told twice?” Cugas urged him before he barked orders at the crewman to get him a ladder and once he got the ladder, he told the crewman to tell the first mate his orders while he dealt with this. 
“Ok, so what’s your idea?” Cugas asked as he stood on top of the ladder and got as close as he could get, so that he could reach you and he tried going down the ladder but the force pulling you to the cieling was stronger than his own weight and strength and he didn’t want to hurt your delicate wrists or hands. 
“Well I was going to wait until we got to the black waters to reveal this but if it will get me off the ceiling now, it’s what I’ll do, so, my dad, he’s not entirely human, his mother, my other grandmother- is a siren. I’ve only changed into a siren form once when I was little but if it’ll reset my body by changing form, it’ll turn this off.” You explained as you managed to roll over again, your wings spreading out over the ceiling as you just laid there and waited for Brock to return. 
“So what’s the chain gonna do?” Cugas asked. 
“Luckily the cuff is now my belt, attach the chain, use to pull me down and drag me to the tank for the fish, pull me down enough that you can put a net over me and then, tie an anchor to me or some kind of heavy weight and basically- drown me, my body should change before I die.” You explained. 
“No, absolutely not.” Cugas immediately shook his head no. “There has to be another way.” He insisted. 
“Look, with my other abilities I have a measure of control over them, but this- I don’t. I didn’t even know I had this. It’s the only thing I can think of.” You explained as he sat on top of the ladder as he waited for Brock to get back. 
“Thank you by the way.” You said softly after a moment. 
“For what?” Cugas asked. 
“For fighting for me. I got to hear a little bit of your conversation with Brock, thank you for trying to get him to free me.” You thanked him. 
“You’re welcome, seeing you chained is...well it’s just plain wrong. And every time I look at that thing I get sick and panicky, like it’s on me too.” Cugas explained with a hateful look at the silver belt as you grinned knowingly. All mouras hated enslavement with a passion and were incredibly empathetic. You mused his moura genes were incredibly strong, why else would he love the freedom of the open ocean? 
“By the way do you even know what it is?” You asked curiously before Cugas huffed and breathed in and before he could speak Brock came down the stairs with the chain in hand. 
“Oh good, we got a ladder.” Brock noted in relief before he started to climb it before he reattached the chain, standing on the ladder to do so. 
“Are you going to ask her what her idea is?” Cugas prodded. 
“She’s a moura, mouras are very intelligent, I’m sure it’s a good one.” Brock answered as your heart melted- just a tiny bit before Cugas barked a scornful laugh. 
“Ha! No, Yana, tell Brock your plan, Brock- for the love of all that holy- actually listen to it.” Cugas implored. 
“So what’s your idea?” Brock asked. 
“Ok, so, my dad isn’t entirely human, his mom is a siren, so if you can drag me to the holding tank for the fish and manage to pull me into the water by attaching this chain to something really heavy, I should change and it should turn this angel reflex off.” You explained. 
“That’s an awesome idea, why do you hate it?” Brock asked Cugas who just gave you a meaningful look. 
“How many years has it been since you changed into a siren form?” Cugas asked you. 
“Oh only a few,” You answered dissmissively before you bit your lips anxiously as you wouldn’t look either of them in the eye. 
“How many years exactly?” Cugas pressed. 
“Eleven.” You answered a little sheepishly. 
“So you were seven.” Cugas pointed out. 
“And a half.” You argued. 
“What were the circumstances of your changing?” Cugas pressed. 
“Well, uh, we were swimming in the lake.” You answered vaguely. 
“Really? You touch water and magically you turn into a siren?” Cugas questioned. “Well... not exactly.” You answered. “Look, we’re wasting time, just drag me to the tank and I’ll change it’s as simple as that.” You insisted. 
“No, no it’s not, tell Brock exactly what he has to do to get you to change because I sure as hell ain’t doing it.” Cugas insisted. 
“What do I have to do?” Brock asked. 
“You have to tie me to something heavy and basically...try to drown me.” You finally confessed as Brock’s eyes got wide before he looked at Cugas who was giving him the most emphatic shake of his head ‘no’ and a dangerous look. “Uh, so tell me exactly what happened that you turned when you were seven and a half.” Brock insisted before he sat on the other step. 
“Ok so- funny story- my siblings and myself were swimming in the lake and I got too deep and I wasn’t that good of a swimmer and everyone else was distracted and I started to drown but before I died, I changed and suddenly I was able to breathe water and I had a tail and everything and I scared the literal shit out of my big brother when I swam up to him and grabbed his leg, I had never heard a boy scream like he did.” You answered with a fond smile at the memory. Indeed your big brother had screamed in an octave you thought he had grown out of. 
“That’s not a funny story, you almost could have died!” Cugas chastized you. 
“How did they get you to change back?” Brock asked curiously. 
“My dad had to come and he walked me through it, I basically had to drown in the air as he held me and coaxed me through it.” You answered. 
“Have you been to the lake since?” Cugas asked. 
“Not really no.” You answered. 
“Can you even swim?” Cugas asked. 
“Well, um…” You stuttered as Cugas dragged his hands down his face and took a calming breath as he clenched and then unclenched his own hands before focusing back on Brock. 
“You hear that? You have to drown her to get her to change, are you gonna drown her or are you going to listen to sense and take off that damn shackle and just let her fly free for the god’s sake and when she figures out how she can turn it off, she figures it out. Period, we still have time, we can sail back to the harbor, we’ll make it before this hurricane hits.” Cugas insisted. 
“Not necessarily-” you argued as Cugas looked at you like you grew five heads. 
“If the fleet stays in the eye, it’ll be ok, the eye shouldn’t move too much.” You assured them. 
“Brock please, it’ll work, we’re so close.” You pleaded and Cugas was about to pull his hair out. 
“Ok,” Brock agreed before he grabbed the chain and tried to pull you off the ceiling with his body weight but it was like he weighed a fifth of his real weight and was nearly to the floor by the time you budged from the ceiling as Cugas growled in frustration. 
“Both of you have lost your goddamn minds!” He complained as he got a board and shimmied it behind your back. 
“You’ll break her spine pulling on her like that.” Cugas groused before Brock stopped and wrapped his hands in his shirt and wrapped the chain around his wrapped hands so it wouldn’t cut his hands up as Cugas climbed back up to the ceiling and put a rope behind the board and tied a net around you and the board so you wouldn’t slip away and pulled too, together both of them managed to pull you off the ceiling. 
“How in the world did you manage to get on your hands and knees with a pull like this?” Cugas asked as he and Brock worked together to pull you down and towards the stairs before the first mate Karsu came down and saw what was going on. 
“What the hell?” Karsu asked. 
“Help us drag her to the pool.” Cugas ordered and the three of them managed to get you down the stairs but the lower they went, the stronger it got. 
“It’s like the pull’s getting stronger.” Cugas noted before Karsu called for help as the night crew that were going to bed came and dragged you over the pool as more ropes were pulled over you as the whole night crew managed to pull you until you were above the water. 
“Are you absolutely sure you can do this?” Cugas questioned. 
“As sure as I’ll ever be,” you answered as you looked around. 
“I need that ballast.” You nodded before Cugas’ men got it. 
“Now drop it in. Who’s a good diver?” You asked before everyone looked at Cugas. 
“He’s the best.” Karsu answered. 
“Oh no, this is as much as I’m gonna help, I’m not going to have a hand in actually drowning you.” Cugas insisted before the men paused and looked at each other before Brock just jumped in and grabbed the ropes and chain and swam with all his might before he tied it around the ballast before he had to swim back up to the surface before he ran out of breath, leaving you only a foot under the surface. 
“You fucking piece of shit! I can’t believe you did that!” Cugas yelled at Brock as he punched Brock in the face. “She’s supposed to be the love of your life and you’re killing her! You don’t fucking deserve her!” Cugas spat before he grabbed a knife off of one of his men and dived in, cutting all the ropes just as your wings started to flail in the water, the water itself starting to boil and steam from your wings touching the water as Brock dove back in to stop him as you screamed your last breath, the sound making everyone cover their ears as their eyes had to close because the light emanating from you was too bright to look at before the light faded and Brock and Cugas both looked to see you start to float down, unconscious before your body landed gently onto the bottom of the hold and Cugas, in a fit of rage- stabbed Brock before he dove down to you and held you, tried shaking you and blew his last breath back into you but it was no use- you were gone, he was about to jump to the surface before Brock’s blood wafted in front of your face and your eyes snapped open as you breathed in Brock’s blood causing Cugas to try to swim away before he watched your wings pull into yourself and your body transform into the prettiest mermaid he had ever seen, your eyes now pitch black before you smiled, way too many teeth lining your jaw as you did so before you kissed Cugas sweetly as now it was his turn to freeze at the display of affection. 
“Thank you so much for trying to help.” You thanked him, your voice having an ethereal quality to it as your whole body then lit up with bioluminescence, lighting up the hold beautifully as you gestured for him to go up to the surface. 
“You stabbed me!” Brock yelled at Cugas as Cugas finally made it up to the surface. 
“Yeah but your blood got her to change.” Cugas smiled as he treaded water and watched as you untied the chain from the ballast before you picked it up and swam it to the edge and chucked it out of the hold. 
“Holy shit, even as a siren she’s strong.” Cugas smiled as he just watched as you swam over to Brock who was hanging onto the side as you tried to gently coax him from the side. 
“Come on, time to heal you again.” You giggled as Brock just stared at you again as you held his hand. 
“It worked!” You smiled, your smile literally from ear to ear as Brock just stared in horrified awe at the three rows of very sharp teeth greeted him before you went to his side that was still bleeding before you gently coaxed his hand away from the wound before you took a deep breath and pulled more magic from your core and blew it into his wound as a bioluminescent gel that stuck to the wound as Cugas swam over to Brock and helped him stay afloat because Brock wasn’t the best swimmer himself. 
“How do you keep getting so lucky?” Cugas teased him. 
“You fucking stabbed me!” Brock accused. 
“Because you drowned her.” Cugas answered defensively.
“Yeah but it worked, her idea worked.” Brock argued. 
“I still think we could have done it another way.” Cugas argued as he watched as you coiled yourself around Brock before you pressed your hand over the wound and just hugged Brock, the marks on your body starting to pulse as you did so. 
“What does it feel like?” Cugas asked curiously. 
“Like she’s put ice into it.” Brock answered with a wince as he watched, noticing you were swimming up so he didn’t have to as Cugas had a hold of him and you were managing to keep both of them up. 
“It’s hypnotizing isn’t it.” Cugas whispered in awe. 
“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” Brock whispered back before he noticed his own tattoos start to glow and pulse too. 
“Woah,” Cugas breathed before he let go and got a little bit of space before he dove down to get a better look. 
“Hi,” you greeted. 
“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice muffled by the water before you just shook your head and blew a big breath at his head before his head was encased in a huge bubble. 
“Oh this is the most amazing thing to ever happen to me.” Cugas giggled with glee as he was able to stay under water and breathe from the bubble as you giggled. 
“It’s an undiran, for someone who wants to breathe underwater but doesn’t want to change to a merperson, siren or otherwise.” You smiled. 
“So why are his tattoos glowing?” He asked as you had to think of a half truth to tell him since this wouldn’t let you lie completely. 
“Orcs have magic too, I’m calling to it to help heal him, you stabbed his liver, it’s taking quite a bit to heal him, I’m having his own being do half the work.” You explained. 
“Oh, awesome.” Cugas nodded in understanding. 
“You stabbed my liver?!” Brock asked as he glared at Cugas. 
“You drowned her!” Cugas argued back before you uncoiled yourself from Brock to reach out and grab Cugas. 
“It’s ok, it worked, that’s what matters. Please give the orders to stay in the eye of the oncoming storm, I can feel the currents down here, tell them to find the circle current, it’ll keep you around the black waters and in the eye of the storm.” You gently urged him. “Please.” You added. 
“I can’t say no to you.” Cugas complained. 
“Thank you Cugas.” You thanked him sweetly before he came back up to the surface, his undiran popping once it touched the surface as he gave more orders and left you and Brock in the hold as his men left and gave you some privacy. 
“You’ll be ok.” You reassured Brock as you coiled around him again, your tail underneath to gently swim to keep his head above water so he didn’t have to tread water himself as you sat in companionable silence again for a moment. 
“Yana,” Brock suddenly murmured, his voice softer than you had ever heard it before. 
“Hmm?” You asked, craning your head up from where it had been resting on his chest. 
“Please don’t ever ask me to do anything like that again.” Brock requested as his arms seemed to gravitate around you as one seemed to find the back of your hand, his fingers threading into your hair.  
“Afraid that Cugas will succeed in killing you next time?” You tried to tease but the look on his face told you that this wasn’t a matter light enough to joke about. 
“That was really hard for me to do and I took a big leap of faith that you knew yourself better than any of us do. I can’t…” His bottom lip quivered for a moment as his eyes got glassy as emotion choked out his voice. 
“That was really dangerous and we almost lost you. Kids can be physically resilient but mentally fragile and as we age that reverses. I know you’re strong and powerful and you have abilities I can only dream of. But everyone has their limits and this was beyond mine. I knew it was a mistake before I even did it and I don’t blame Cugas for reacting the way he did and frankly if I had lost you, I never would have forgiven myself and no one else would have either. Please, don’t ask me to do anything like that again.” Brock pleaded and you were moved by his words. 
“Ok.” You agreed as you nodded in understanding before he just hugged you and held you while you healed him and this suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world and just as you finished you felt something hit the bottom of the ship as you heard the whole crew start to scream and panic before the tank doors at the bottom of the ship were pried open and you quickly got Brock on top of you as you quickly swam him to the side against the suction of the water pulling you down before a big hand reached inside and grabbed you. 
“Brock!” You called before you were pulled out of the hold and the doors were shut behind you before you dragged to the dark, dark depths.
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justjessame · 4 years ago
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A Reluctant Hero Chapter 7
Kelsey followed me home when I retrieved my car from the bar parking lot. Once at the house, she mentioned she was going to take a nap, and I rolled my eyes as she gave my cell phone a loaded glance. Honestly, just because I had JD’s number now, didn’t mean I was going to call him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, aside from the fact that even drunk me had great taste in wanting him naked and sweaty, I hadn’t exactly been at my best when we met. And knowing that he was fresh out of a situation of his own wasn’t all that inspiring for starting up something with him.
Rebound. That’s what we’d be for one another. If I called him up, if we pursued whatever spark we might have felt, it would flare hot and bright and then fizzle out. That’s what rebounds were. The way to cleanse the palette before you find a lasting relationship. Hell, books were written about this shit. Not that I’d ever read them, but still. It was common fucking knowledge. No matter the age, you don’t stay with whomever comes right after a breakup.
With that in mind, I didn’t call him. I tried very fucking hard to NOT think about him between shit I did to keep busy. Stuff like editing my newest book, or starting another story. No, JD Richter was NOT going to work for a rebound. IF I gave him a call, it wouldn’t be for a fast and hot affair, because even drunk, hungover, and a tad bit stupid, I knew that JD would be wasted as a rebound fling. He was the type of man that a woman should want to hook, mount, and keep forever. Anyone who didn’t see that was a fucking idiot.
He broke first. Four days after I woke up in his bed, my phone rang and I didn’t even pay attention to who the caller was because I was engrossed in the writing of a new chapter to a new book. Answering it almost absently, it took a moment for my brain to disengage from the computer in front of me and HEAR the voice speaking to me.
“I’m sorry, who did you say was calling?” No, I thought, it couldn’t be-
That deep rumble of a laugh and I could swear it vibrated through the phone and I could feel it in my toes. “Forgot me already, Ani? That stings.” I swallowed loudly. Shit. “JD? Kelsey’s dad? Prince Charming since I put Cinderella’s shoes back on?”
I had to shake my head at that comparison. “Pretty sure Cindi didn’t lose her shoes because she was shitfaced, but I won’t deny that you were my hero.” Another chuckle from his end. “Sorry I was in the middle of writing and-”
“I should let you go?” He was asking, not agreeing.
“No,” my voice had grown quiet, and I wanted to smack myself from how needy I sounded. “It’s fine, I can pick it back up anytime.”
“I’m sorry I had to rush out the other day,” he offered, and I thought I heard the sound of liquid flowing into a glass. “Work, it never ends.” Kelsey had filled me in on how he’d lost his license, but after the truth had come out, fought to get it back.
‘Work’s important. Pays the bills, right?” I stood up from my desk and wandered to my kitchen. “I hope it wasn’t something gruesome.”
We chatted about what he did for a living, and as we spoke, I made a late lunch. “What’s that noise on your end?” He asked, clearly picking up the sound of me setting the pan on my stove, and the sounds of me assembling my ingredients.
“I’m making lunch,” looking at how late it was, I realized it was too late for even the latest lunch. “Maybe dinner, actually.”
“You cook?” The interest in his voice was clear.
I grinned as I worked at chopping and measuring. “Well, I have to eat, so learning to make something a little more filling than peanut butter sandwiches seemed like a good idea.” I could swear I heard him smile. “You don’t cook?”
“Never seem to have the time,” he answered and it was my turn to smile. “I haven’t had a home cooked meal-”
“Are you jockeying for an invitation, JD?” It went quiet on his end, and I considered taking it back, but then I thought fuck it. “There’s more than enough for two.”
I heard rustling from his end, and then the telltale jingle of a set of keys. “I’ll be right over.”
Once I had dinner steadily bubbling and baking, I took a look at my appearance and was thankful that I’d taken that very cold shower earlier. Rushing to my bedroom, I grabbed something that was attractive, but not overly done up. Another pair of skinny pants, this time in a faux buttery leather and a loose fitting tank, my hair was piled up on my head and I forewent shoes. My house, no need for heels.
I was back in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the simmering pots, when my visitor was announced. Giving the OK for him to enter, I waited as he made his way to the dining room, and called out for him to take the door to the right. I made a note to have my AI, Pandi, freeze frame the look on JD’s face when he walked into the room.
My kitchen, like the rest of my house, was dark wood and rustic looking. The stove wouldn’t have looked out of place in a restaurant, nor would the refrigerator and the huge stone sink was always an eye opener. I gestured for him to have a seat on one of the stools lining the huge island, and asked him what he’d like to drink.
“I thought the rest of your house was impressive, but this?” He was still taking in details, and I smirked as he finally met my eyes. “Wow.” Giggling, I asked him what his drink preference was again, and he finally accepted a beer.
I waited until he took a long drink, and shook my head at how easily and comfortable he seemed to fit into my house. I had a glass of tea, since I was planning on keeping clear of any type of alcohol for the foreseeable future, I moved back to the stove and once again we fell into conversation.
I was taking out a dish from the oven, along with the bread I’d put in to warm, when he finally asked the most important question of all. “What are we having, Ani?”
Italian, my preference on any given day, was what we were having. And we ate at the island, side by side, talking as he complimented me on every single part of our meal. I loved watching people appreciate the meals I cooked, Kelsey raved every time she came over for lunch or dinner, and her dad was no different. I had a flash of Roger not being all that interested in what I cooked, his focus more on eating things that would keep him fit and trim, clearly to catch all those willing coeds.
“You just flinched,” he offered, as he swallowed another bite. “What were you thinking about?”
I huffed out a breath that was a cross between a laugh and a snort. “Roger, the ex.” He was studying me. “I just realized, he never seemed to like what I cooked.”
“Fucking idiot.” JD muttered, and I smiled. “That man must have been blind and stupid.” He was still staring, I could feel the heat of his gaze even as my attention returned to my own plate. “What kind of moron screws around on-”
I stopped him. Too dangerous territory. Too close to crossing that invisible line that I wanted him to fucking know existed. “Yeah, well, hindsight.” Taking a sip from my glass, I changed the subject to work.
He helped me clean up, putting leftovers in bowls, one of which I insisted he take with him and loading the dishwasher. We were seated in my living room, a fire flickering in the fireplace because that’s the entire point of having a fireplace, JD nursing a second beer and me still drinking tea.
“Tell me about your family,” he asked, his chair facing the sofa I was lounging on.
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I sat up and set my glass on the coffee table. “My family?” Leaning back again, I thought about it. “My mom died when I was really little,” I was five, she had passed away after a long illness, one that even my dad couldn’t fix. “Dad’s a doctor, infectious diseases, and he didn’t really understand my artsy nature.” I smirked, thinking about how aghast he’d been when I came up with a B- for my science classes, and that C for math would forever haunt him. “He liked the outdoors, and since I’m his only kid, I learned to like them too.” I loved the outdoors, the forests, the rivers. Lakes and mountains were my playground growing up. “He really didn’t understand my choice in men.” Like Dr. Aaron Myles, his coworker who was very slightly younger than him, who he caught bending me over a lab table when I was nineteen. “Other than my parents, the extended family isn’t really close. Reunions, holiday cards, you know, the normal.”
“Other than the idiot box you dated recently,” I chuckled at the description. “What wasn’t understandable about your choices?”
Damn inquisitive minds, I thought, but shrugged. What the hell, let’s warn him ahead of time. “Older men, usually his colleagues.” I heard, rather than saw, JD’s inhale. “I was an adult, I swear,” most of the time, I flashed on that one fling and felt a blush rise. “It’s just that-” I was very very irritable at the idea that I had daddy issues, so I had this conversation a LOT over the years. “Men who have more experience, tend to treat women better, you know?”
My eyes met his and I realized that JD was older than me. Maybe not as old as my dad, maybe not as old as my oldest lover, but he was. And his eye color, that molten caramel that had drawn my interest when I’d finally been able to focus my eyes, had gone so dark that pinpointing his pupils would have been a challenge. I bit my lip and his eyes focused on the movement. Shit. Not good.
“How about your family?” I tossed out before we both did something that I would fucking regret when it went to shit.
JD smirked, clearly understanding my attempts at diverting the conversation into safer territories, but I had to think he didn’t really know why. He reminded me that I knew Kelsey and had met his ex wife, but I shook my head. “So you were hatched from an egg and didn’t know your parents?”
He laughed, full bodied at my silly joke. Then he told me about his upbringing. His stint in the military. His path to his current profession. He gave out his life’s story as easily as I did, which wasn’t as common as people might think.
“And you just got out of a-” I stopped, shocked at my line of questioning. Shit. Nope, Ani, not that.
“Molly,” he offered, his eyes still on mine. “Molly Woods.” I nodded. “That was a very weird situation.”
I waited, unsure if I wanted to hear about the woman he kept company with before. I knew his ex wife, the mother of his daughter, but this was fresh. “You don’t have to-”
“It’s ok,” he smiled at me and I had to return it. “I’m a grown up, I can handle talking about it.”
I nodded and he told me about meeting her at a crime scene. How he thought she was insane, given where she’d been staying it made sense, but then he found out the victim had been pregnant, just like she’d warned. He told me how it went from her roofieing him to him being called a terrorist for helping her. How that snowballed into intimacy and how, eventually, he realized that she needed her people more than the two of them needed one another.
“Do you still talk?” My fucking curiosity was going to make me want to jump off a cliff soon.
“Not much,” he answered, leaning forward to sit his beer down on the coffee table. “What we had wasn’t supposed to last, Ani, but we became friends.”
I smiled and let my eyes focus on the view behind him, outside the panel of glass. The green of the forest creeping closer, the darkness not obscuring the leaves that seemed close enough to touch.
“Ani,” my eyes found his again, and I swallowed at the look in his eyes. “Come here.”
Oh no, not happening. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” My tongue felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
He bit his lip as he studied me and I felt the burn from that simple gesture all the way down my body. “Why isn’t it?” Shit.
“Rebounds are never a good idea, JD.” Still sounded as dry mouthed as when I woke up in his bed. The thought of a bed and JD increased the burn.
“Then don’t call it a rebound, Ani.” Fucker, I thought, trying for logic and wordplay. “Come here.” He crooked his finger this time and I could swear he had a fucking string attached to it and my body, the yearning was so strong to give in.
“No,” I wanted it to come out strong and clear, but instead it sounded scared and uncertain. “You come here,” wait, what? Fuck, Ani, not helping.
And then he was over top of me, his weight pressing down on mine, and at the first touch of his lips on mine, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I had fucked up majorly. Because I had no fucking doubt whatsoever that when this ended, I’d be crushed. Fucking crushed, because with one kiss, I was addicted to JD Richter, and we weren’t even fucking naked.
We didn’t get naked. Not when Kelsey’s voice called out from the door that connected her apartment to the house.
“Ani?” She was growing closer, and JD had pulled back and was grinning as he stayed hovering over me. “I saw Dad’s truck outside and-” She was standing in the threshold of the living room when she stopped speaking and I felt the burn go from lust to embarrassment that his daughter and my best friend had caught him on top of me, with my hands locked around his neck and his slithering under my shirt. “Ah, hey, Dad.”
He was chuckling as he answered her greeting, and I felt like sinking into the sofa and dying. It was one thing for Kels to tell me that she was alright with the two of us, but catching us? That was too fucking much.
JD left a little later with his leftovers, and I had to shake my head as he ignored his daughter’s presence and kissed me with enough passion to make the wood of my house catch fire. Then he smirked down at me, promised to call, and was gone.
I turned to face Kelsey and rolled my eyes at her trying to hold back her own laughter. “Really?” I asked, shaking my head and heading back to the kitchen. “Want me to heat up dinner?”
“Gonna use your face?” She offered, still laughing. “The red of that blush is throwing off enough heat that I have to believe the microwave won’t be needed.” If I keep rolling my eyes, they’re gonna stick that way. “Jesus, you’re a fucking adult, Ani, why are you so embarrassed?”
I shot her a look. “Because he’s your DAD, Kels.”
Shrugging, she took the plate I’d fixed for her from my hands and sat on the same stool her dad had earlier. “So? He’s not YOUR dad, Ani, that would be cause for fucking embarrassment.”
Jesus, the Richters were going to be the death of me.
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elejahfanfic · 5 years ago
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The Vampire Files/5
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Fanfiction
Part 5
AU story with tvd/to characters, but also with many others from different fandoms like Nick Amaro _Law&Order svu, that I am borrowing here. And Joel Goran from Saving Hope etc.
Main pairing_ Nick Amaro and Elena Gilbert
Nick and Elena are FBI Agents investigating supernatural activities and homocide caused vampires and demons.
Expect witches, demons, vampires. Inspired by X-files, Twin Peaks, and many other shows
✺◟(❛‿❛)◞✺
tag_ @miguelsbrat​
thanks so much for reading xoxo
♡♤◇♧
“Right- I’m gonna go” Nick took his coat from the chair.
“No- we still didn’t finish discussing the latest,” Elena said shooting a very significant look at her partner, “plus Jenna is making her special lasagne and you got to try it.”
Nick wavered for a second, and then put the coat back on the chair, and sat down at the table.
Elena turned to Joel, now asking him to follow her to the small entrance hall.
“I’m sorry, but we got to work on the case.” Elena said to the surgeon.
“Yeah, I see” Joel said. “I should have called.”
“Yeah, you should have” Elena nodded a little, biting a nervous gulp back.
“Ok” Joel inhaled, twisting his lips. “I’m not going to keep you - I just - wanted to tell you that the other night was amazing and it made me realize that I fucked up and - I won’t give up”
“Joel” Elena started, but he now stopped her before she could continue, pulling her into a deep, long kiss.
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In the living room, Nick couldn’t help but overhear them. Unexpected feelings rushed through him, causing his heart to strangely pump with jealousy. Where was this coming from? He barely knew Elena. And these feelings welling up inside him were something he now tried to shrug off.
Sometimes, someone comes into your life, so unexpectedly, takes your heart by surprise, and changes your life forever.
Camille’s words shot out of nowhere. Yes, he cared about her and that was it. There was nothing more.
He now tossed his phone on the table.
“Amaro, everything all right?” Elena said as she walked back in the living room.
“Yes, why?”
“I hope you are not angry that I kind of invited you to stay for dinner. I just -”
“Hey - what are partners for - “
“Yeah - this was so childish of me - it’s just - things are complicated between me and Joel and - “
“You don’t have to explaind.It’s all good. I would have grabbed some food on the way home from the diner. But home cooked is always better.”
“It is. Ok - a beer?” Elena offered and then remembered that there was none. “Ice-cream?”
“Well, actually, I will have some ice-cream.” Nick then said.
“Chocolate chip fudge mint? Or plain chocolate?”
“Plain chocolate, thank you.”
As she served him the ice-cream, they went on discussing the case, which was scrapped after Jenna returned from a shopping spree. She was more than pleased that Nick stayed for dinner.
Darkness was consuming Elena, and Jenna wanted so badly to get her out of it, although she knew that that could never be. But, at least, she could balance it with some normalcy, and that night the trio enjoyed some time out form the world, sharing stories of their childhood, laughing and joking.
***
Days passed by and the investigation about Elena's attack led to yet another dead end. Stefan and Valerie still didn’t let themselves be defeated. There was more to dig and so they continued digging, which led them to Lorenzo St. John, an eighty year old man, in the heart of New York.
In Whitmore
"She wore a very ancient cut of the Lapis lazuli. The one that counteract the wiles of the spirits of darkness and procure the aid and favor of the spirits of light and wisdom." Bonnie said to her fellow forensic science professor, Damon Somer.
"So, she is not just an FBI Agent?!" Damon said.
"I don't know. According to the myth, only a demon huntress wore one"
"So, you think she killed the vampire?" Damon asked.
"I went back to the woods and there was no trace of it. So, if she is the huntress- then- huh, I couldn't save Lexi-" Bonnie's eyes watered.
"Stop beating yourself up. You did your best. You have no magic anymore. There is nothing you could have done"-Damon tried to comfort her.
"You know that others will come"- Bonnie then said.
Damon just sighed.
"I have class- so, see you later?!"- Damon said waving goodbye to his friend.
Bonnie went back to her work. But her mind remained restless.
***** In Washington, D.C., the following day
Elena walked into the office. Nick was already there, finishing some paperwork.
Without any particular hello, Elena asked for the file on Lexi Branson.
"How did it go upstairs?" he referred to her meeting with the Field director passing the file to her.
"The usual. I kinda managed to convince him that all is interconnected and he kinda agreed we work with Stefan- Agent Salvatore and Agent Tulle"
"Kinda?" Nick looked at her accentuating the word.
"We still don't have the green light, but - we will get it. Till then it's just shuffling intel" Elena explained.
"No green light, no shuffling!" Nick said firmly.
Elena narrowed his eyes at him. Being so by the book made her blood start to simmer slightly. She had to live with many loopholes, otherwise she would not have survived in the world of demons and darkness. And yet he was there to balance things out, as the director put it out to her.
She sat down at her desk and went through the file.
"Didn't we close this case?"
"She was not just any kind of random kill," Elena said,"she moved to Mystic Falls from Portland. And look at the tattoo on the neck"
Nick walked over to her and she gave him the picture.
"Ankh-Egyptian sign - life!" Nick remarked.
"I don't think it's a random tattoo. Witches wore it."
"Where are you going with this?"
"Trying to make a connection between all the desiccated women. They all had a tattoo on the neck" Elena said.
"But they were not Egyptian?!" 
"No. But each of the women had some connection with the occult."
"Serial killing -desiccating in different States for an occult purpose?!" Nick concluded.
"Something tells me that this not the end" Elena put her thought out to him.
"You still believe it is connected to the attempt on your life?"
"It could be. And then it could not" Elena said closing the file.
An e-mail alert on the computer swayed her from the topic. 
"One thing is for sure -there is no rest for the wicked" she said as she read a report that had just come in.
Nick opened the e-mail himself on his computer and read,"Desiccated woman, age 22, found near New Orleans, Bayou, with bite markings on her wrists"
"Now do you believe me?" Elena said tilting her head poignantly.
"Believe? All this is not a coincidence? Yeah. There is a network of serial killers on the loose." NIkc said picking up the phone scheduling the next flight to New Orleans.
He glanced at Elena. Her face went grim. It looked like it lost all the life in her. She browsed rapidly through her files.
"Want to share?"
"No. Just checking stuff on New Orleans- sending you mail on your phone, so we are n'sync," she said,"when is our flight?"
"5:40 p.m." Nick said.
"Right. We have time to meet Bonnie Bennett"
"The forensic from Withmore?"
"Yes. I called her"
"Her report was very thorough," Nick said,"but I guess this is about the talisman she wore?!"
"Exactly. I did some digging. It is worn by a Wicca Society, well, a very ancient Wicca Council - five covens of very powerful witches put their chosen witch to protect the source of all magic"
"This is all about someone messing with the source of all magic?!"
"Bingo! You are really good! I am impressed."
"You are not serious?!" Nick looked at her slightly gone out.
"I'm deadly serious!" Elena cocked an surprised eyebrow at her partner.
Elena knew that his rational brain was not yet willing to accept that there was this whole other world out there that divided this world with the other by a thin veil that people like her encounter all of their lives.
Her phone buzzed and she now read Jenna's message.
"E's adoptive mother is a Dumas werewolf"
**** In the courthouse
Caroline put her phone down not happy with the intel she got about a case. Klaus approached her reading from her sour face that there was trouble.
"They found McKenzie dead. Drowned in his bathtub"- Caroline informed him.
"Not surprised" Klaus said.
"Montgomery is going to walk!! Ugh!" Caroline was fuming as the case was going to collapse without their key witness.
"Come on, we both need a large bourbon. I'm buying" Klaus invited the feisty assistant D.A.
"I am a Martini girl"  Caroline said.
"Three olives?" Klaus said.
"Yeah- how do you know?" Caroline was amazed that he knew that particularity.
"Last Christmas you sent the drink back cuz the waitress forgot the three olives!"
"Well, she didn't do her job of listening to me when she took the order" Caroline fought her corner.
"You being particular is one of your strong points. You run the office way better than I do at times.” he complimented her.
"One day I plan to take it over" Caroline said without flinching.
"And so very ambitious!"
"What you see is what you get" Caroline said as they got out of the courthouse.
For quite a while he loved everything about her but kept it to himself.
***
At the same time in the park, near Elena’s favourite diner, Elena and Nick met up with Bonnie. Elena showed Bonnie two photos of a shaman and a woman, who carried the same protective amulet as she did.
"Have you ever met them before?" Elena asked straight forward waiting for Bonnie's reaction.Bonnie didn't hide the fact that she knew them.
"That's Rayna Cruz and Xander Drummond," Bonnie said,"we were at college together. They are now in CSI NY"
"What do you know about the Council of Five?" Elena continued to quizz her.
All Bonnie's suspicions about Elena were now confirmed as her look was telling her that she was not going to accept partial truths, indicating to her that she was part of the same darkness that had been enveloping them from birth.
"It's something like a Dead Poets Society" Bonnie replied.
"Right. Seize the day thing," Elena said, "don't believe you"
"That's what it was. A college thing. We loved the movie so much, so we made out this group- and we still meet once a year. We are something like a sorority/fraternity but different"
"Can I become a member or is it a closed off thing?" Elena then asked.
"If you wish," Bonnie replied,"we do a mean barbicue"
"Where are you meeting this year?" Elena continued with the inqusition.
"Whitmore" Bonnie said.
"Great. Count us in"- Elena finished.
Nick, who was letting her quiz Bonnie without interruptions now looked at Elena with wtf expression on his face.
"Thanks for coming all the way out to D.C. - but I really needed you to identify these two officers." Elena said getting up, “Thank you for coming.”
As they left the diner, and got into the car to head to the airport, Nick could not keep his discontent to himself.
"I guess you and Kenner often played off each other in bizarre situations as these, but, seriously wtf was that about?"
"Stefan and - Salvatore and Tulle" Elena corrected herself,” found out that the Council of Five is connected to a case - Francesca Guerrera involving Kai Parker."
"Kai Parker, who disappeared in 2011," Nick said,"which has never been solved"
"No." Elena said, and was cut off as they were interrupted by an important phone call.
“It’s Benson.” Nick said and took the call.
Elena's mind swayed to the Parker case. Although she and Jackson were not directly involved in it, she was consulted about certain artefacts they found in Kai's apartment.
Flashback
"The Parkers are members of a very powerful witch coven. Gemini" Jackson said.
"But there was no proof of it anywhere. Those artefacts proved only that he was into voodoo, bringing stuff over from Haiti, but there was no proof of practice" Elena said.
"You and I both know it was planted there, to sway them from the real truth"
"That they killed their own son and disposed of him in a way that I don't even want to think about?!" Elena concluded.
"Well, you know that anything is possible. The myths about demonic covens says they don't stop at nothing"
"Double negation!" Elena joked a little.
"Gilbert?" Nick repeated twice to get her attention as it was obvious she was somewhere far away in her thoughts.
"What?" Elena muttered turning to the Agent.
"You switched off," he said."Right. I was just trying to connect certain missing dots."
"Resulting in?" he teased a bit."That I actually need a triple shot of moccacino and a tub of ice-cream. My brain is not really functioning"
"Well, we are soon going to be in the Big Easy so I can imagine you will stuff yourself with sweet potatoe pie!"
"I am actually looking forward to beignets!" Elena gave him a there you have it look.They got out of the car and proceeded to the departure lounge.
***
In New Orleans
Marcel sat down with Aya, a witch asking him to lay his left hand out ready to cut in the palm.
"The nightmares will go away, you promise?" he asked for assurance.
"With this you will be rid of your past"- Aya reassured him-"there will only be future from now on. So, once again, are you sure you want to do it?"
Marcel hesitated for a moment, but then agreed-
"Yes, I want it gone. Forever"
Aya cut into Marcel's hand and as the blood dripped into a bowl with other ingredients already prepared the witch chanted an old spell making all the memories of the past erase from his mind. The strange spell had a very powerful effect on Marcel, making him drowsy, which gave the witch a moment to collect some of his blood in a separate bowl.
*
There'll be no rest for the wicked There's no song for the choir There's no hope for the weary If you let them win without a fight I let my good one down I let my true love die I had his heart but I broke it every time
_to be continued
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mooosicaldreamz · 5 years ago
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please do a song by song review of lover i beg u
oh......u didn’t have to beg!!!! i’ll give it to you 4 FREE.
I FORGOT THAT YOU EXISTED: what i enjoy about this song is that it is fun and not especially mean, just like, shrug emoji. i think sometimes when ur in a relationship that is not especially amazing and you reach the point where you forget that you dated someone is the funniest thing and its such a strange moment. it’s a good tonesetter for the album, bc its so fun and chill and like, whatever. it has the same energy that i think we are never getting back together wanted to have. i LOVE the “i just forget what they were” breakdown. what a fun, bouncy song. easy listening to start the album. calvin harris rip.
CRUEL SUMMER: i love jack antanoff vERY much and have liked his work with fun. and as bleachers, and i think his production on lorde and taylor’s albums has been so wonderful. this song just reeks of him and it’s so like, ascendent, how it builds up and up into the chorus. i think it’s interesting that she reaches so high on the chorus. “summer’s a knife/i’m always waiting for you to cut to the bone/devils roll the dice/angels roll their eyes.” the breakdown is once again wonderful abt crying in the back of the cab on the way back from the bar - i feel like this album and its concept brings a much more natural version of taylor that i think has largely (and perhaps rightfully, considering the evolution of her fame and craft) been in hiding since probably red but maybe even since speak now. “I LOVE YOU AIN’T THAT THE WORST THING YOU EVER HEARD // HE LOOKS SO PRETTY LIKE A DEVIL” while she’s screaming it is more exuberant than ANYTHING on 1989 or rep (and i love both of those albums). 
LOVER: i love how sleepy soft this song is, i love how simple it is, and it’s made me cry like, six times. the wedding band sound is just, so fun and beautiful. it really makes me feel like i’m drunk, happy, and dancing really slow on an emptying dancefloor. i’m going to assume that was the vibe. it’s so soft. god it feels like a cloud. i enjoy how simple the lyrics are in this song, and how the words get to breathe and simmer. they take on a lot of meaning bc of how much space they’re given by the echo and by pacing. it’s so nice. i’ve gone back and forth on whether i like the wedding vows thing, but i think it might be nice. i love “swear to be overdramatic AND TRUE! to my lover”
THE MAN: the bumpy sound of the bass beat is really fun, and i think the song is a good bop, but it doesn’t say anything i don’t already know - but i think taylor bringing up the back end on the Woke train, trying to reach all those people who still aren’t totally sure about the gays or feminism but also think trump is terrible and are now reconsidering their life choices is a fine enough goal for her social justice initiatives. also i just realized she says “getting bitches and models” which she already does, you don’t have to pretend taylor
THE ARCHER: this song is sonic perfection the rolling synths the dreamy voice, the awful awful breakdown at the end of “they see right thru me / can you see right thru me / i see right thru me” “help me hold onto you” i just ... can’t handle this song. it’s perfect. i like the implication throughout this album that taylor is in Love, the big real kind, and i support her and joe bc i think it’s obvious their relationship has totally like, taken her to a new and good emotional space. anyway i like the implication that taylor fell in real, big Love and realized that love is still a fucking mess, like it doesn’t solve all the problems. “ALL OF MY HEROES DIE ALL ALONE” i mean come on. i hate her
I THINK HE KNOWS: this song is a bop “i think he knows his hands around a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it’s mine” is a stn move. the rumbly noise in the chorus and the synthy breakdown is a beast, it owns itself. there’s a real comfortable self-confidence that i, once again, maintain has been missing from taylor’s music up until now. also that moaning noise distracts me every time. “hand on my thigh/we can follow the sparks/i’ll drive” tAYLOR! inappropriate. i’ve seen some takes on this song that it’s not a fave, but it’s a fun song and people are wrong. there’s not one song on this album that i’m like this is bad in the way that i DO NOT like some songs on rep
MISS AMERICANA AND THE HEARTBREAK PRINCE: the first thing i thought when i heard this song is that it sounds like lana del rey. give it a re-listen, it does. sounds just like idk, “high by the beach” but it also rings a bell for me of electra heart era marina and the diamonds (like “teen idle”). i like this song a lot, even though it’s relatively oblique in my opinion on what it’s.....actually about. “you play stupid games / you win stupid prizes” is a great lyric in masterful taylor swift fashion bc it looks stupid when u write it on paper. i like the shouting breakdown thing that happens on the back end of the song with go/fight/win (OH I JUST GOT that, it’s like cheerleaders shouting). i’m a fan of it, but it’s an oddball on the tracklist.
PAPER RINGS: this song rings with a lot of red’s chaotic energies but with the adult sensibilities that she’s rolling with on this album. i love the sort of down-home shouty stuff happening on the verses, and the “kiss me once / kiss me twice / three times” bridge. it’s a good one. “i hate accidents/except when we went from friends to this” is a fun and good lyric. i LOVE the key change i LOVE the “wrap your arms around me baby boy” for some reason very much. 
CORNELIA STREET: i mean obviously this song is wonderful. i’ve seen much Discourse about this song being related to Kaylor which seems plausible. it’s clear that taylor wrote some of these songs in the present tense when they’re in the past, which i think is really interesting. i LOVE “jacket ‘round my shoulder is yours” what a good inversion of the phrase. i love the way that the phrase cornelia street breaks up the lines in a really weird way, because of how its syllables run. it’s a good song. it’s a soft boi
DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS: early frontrunner for my fave song!!!!! love the opening repeating noise, and the simple guitar plucks initially. taylor’s voice takes up front and center bc it isn’t especially altered/layered/echoed like it is in some other spots on the album. it has an amazing rolling pace on its verses that’s followed by the slower pace on the chorus. “i ask the traffic lights if it’ll be okay and they say i don’t know” i am certain that this song is about karlie kloss and i will not accept any other possibilities i know she said it was about a movie but i don’t care. “my hips my heart my body my love / tryna find a part of me you didn’t touch” wow taylor god what a gifted lyricist i hate her
LONDON BOY: this song is fun. “i saw the dimples first / then i heard the accent” i love the rising effect on “walking on the afternoon” resetting with the horns. it’s just a song that makes you bob your head. she does sound like she’s throwing out as many english references as she possibly can which is amusing and i don’t know what the legs are on this song bc of that - it could come across as somewhat kitschy. but! also i’d like to start some discourse bc i think it’s CLEAR that taylor isn’t afraid of using pronouns or even very direct references to who she’s with (this song is basically an I LOVE JOE ALWYN shirt), and it makes it even more clear when she’s avoiding using pronouns or direct description. the two songs before this don’t do that in the same way that this song does. 1989 barely uses pronouns at all. i’m just saying. taylor is bi is what i’m saying.
SOON YOU’LL GET BETTER: obviously this song is sad and it makes me cry i have no further commentary except that it’s a wonderful, simple song that has an excessively odd placement on this album following after london boy
FALSE GOD: this song is sexy! and interesting. the horns come back again, which is good and her voice is lower. honestly the line “the altar is my hips” is just..........a lot for me to compute. “i’m golden when you touch me / hell is when i fight with you” the bridges are really fun, sexy, soft. this song is like when lover ends and a song with a little more of a sultry feel comes on but ur still drunk so its a little sloppy.
YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN: obviously this song ruined my life. it sent me to the heights of elation and then i sort of had a hangover on it but i’m back around on it guys! it’s a fun, fun, summery song. that chorus with the oh-oh is just .... pop perfection. the bumpy synth noise that goes ba-duh-duh-duh like it’s reverberating is absolutely perfect for the pacing of the song. it’s excessively well-crafted to the point of slickness. it should have been the lead single but what do i know about anything
AFTERGLOW: i know that i wasn’t supposed to be into i pinned your hands behind your back but i was so. this is a continuation of the theme of like, i’m in love but i’m still a mess!!! sorry :) i like this song but it does not inspire me. 
ME!: i don’t know why the exclamation point is there and it sounds much more like a brendon urie song than a taylor song, but it’s fun! i don’t hate it! i can see why it was picked as a lead single - to really illustrate the tonal change from rep to here, but still. spelling is fun, tho.
IT’S NICE TO HAVE A FRIEND: this song is simple and so, so so sweet. i love the childhood friends to lovers narrative, and i just. like it. so much. it’s so sweet. and then obviously the horns come back for this one, but don’t overwhelm. this song is a good palette cleanser after the bombast of me!
DAYLIGHT: i tweeted about this but this song reminds me of clean and long live (particularly long live, it for some reason really sounds like that in my head). but i like that it really relates a feeling that i feel sometimes of like, my life was a mess and sometimes still is a mess but bc i’m in a stable and good relationship, things feel approachable, like, if everything goes wrong again, i’ll at least know for sure i have this, and i think this song sort of shows that off with the  “I don’t want to think about anything else.” it’s nice. it’s calm. i read an oral history today about the kanye storming the stage moment at the vma’s because it’s been 10 years since it happened - and i feel like this album and this song, in many ways, are a plateau on the meteoric catapult of taylor’s relationship with fame that really had started to run before that moment but certainly started rolling after that. i think this song is a demonstration of the growth that she’s gone through over the last ten years that we’ve all watched with such close attention. it makes me feel happy for her. i hope she gets to keep this the way it is. i’ve read that she thought for the longest time that this album would be called daylight and i’m honestly? not sure it shouldn’t be. but the vocal note at the end sort of draws it back thru.
it’s a good album. i think the back half of it doesn’t hang as tough all the way thru as the first half, but overall, i think it’s overall quality is better than reputation even though i think reputation, as a concept album, works very well. it’s a great evolution and a real, authentic thing. very impressive that she’s managed to produce four very different albums successively where as many artists don’t change that much from album to album. but i think that’s evidence of the work that’s gone into them, to be honest. death by a thousand cuts is my early fave. 
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sopheronipepperoni · 6 years ago
Text
Infatuation
[In which the Sara and Liam literally run away from a problem, eager to make the most of some shore leave.  Loosely inspired by the ‘kissing to hide from someone’ trope.]
Her omintool pinged, and Sara couldn’t help but groan.
“What is it?” Liam walked beside her, hands in his pockets as he turned his eyes to her.
She was jabbing at the device with more force than necessary, shutting off the alert function, practically glaring the thing into oblivion.  Liam raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment.  He did, however, hear the words, “Insufferable,” “Tann,” and “ass,” grumbled under her breath.
Louder she said, “We’re here for some leave, doesn’t he have any concept of ‘shore leave’?  As in, ‘I ignore all of my responsibilities for 24-hours’ shore leave?”
He chuckled.  “Not sure that’s possible as the Pathfinder, but I’m game to help you try.”  His hand was warm as it enfolded hers, softening it from a tight fist.  She relaxed beside him, her annoyance simmering down as they continued to walk along one of the Nexus’s outer walkways, reminiscent of the Tempest’s docking bay.  Greenery had been added to areas like this, Hydroponics making use of the spaces to run soil tests, and try growing flora native to Andromeda.  The particular path they were on reminded Sara of some of the parks in the Citadel’s Presidium she had seen as a kid.
Life lately had consisted of scouting some of the farther clusters, searching for any information that could give them an edge over beating the Archon to Meridian.  And when they weren’t killing Kett or battling the other local hostile fauna, they were helping out the settlements.  It felt like it was always on to the next thing.
But amidst the business and the stress, Sara and Liam had still found energy to make time for kissing.  Lots and lots of kissing.  Yet somehow, still entirely not enough kissing.
She was exhausted —they all were— and so when Lexi had finally put her foot down and nearly threatened to induce mandatory sleep cycles for all of them, Sara had made the call to put in for shore leave the next time they hit the Nexus.  She had nearly cried when Liam, one night en route to the station, had suggested another date—one he’d plan, not a vid, he’d said, and Sara loved him for doing that, even though she knew he was just as tired as she was.
Hence walking along the Nexus’s slowly-opening “parks”, such as they were.  Compared to the level of action they’d been seeing lately, she certainly wasn’t complaining about doing something more…leisurely.  So leisurely and relaxed, in fact, that both had foregone wearing their normal Initiative gear in favor of donning some clothes they’d brought from Earth: a dark —and incredibly soft— hoodie for Liam, and a favorite worn henley for her.  Something more in cognito as more people were being woken up from Cryo, and civilian clothes became more common as people had off-hours.  
They’d gotten a few looks, still, but less than usual.  Aware of the heat of his hand against her skin, Sara was content to spend the rest of the afternoon like this.  Going for a walk, debating the strengths and weaknesses of classic superheroes, flirting, maybe —hopefully— some kissing…all of the normal things other people did.  She thought she’d kill to have more normalcy in her life, and with a start, she realized that she actually had killed in order to feel normal—to make Andromeda a normal home for them, whatever that word meant now.
She had just opened her mouth to respond to Liam’s teasing remark when someone behind them said, “Hey, that’s the Pathfinder!”
The annoyance bubbled up again, hot and sudden, even as she stopped for half a second to flash the growing crowd a pasted-on smile and a wave.  Her grip on Liam’s hand tightened as she turned away before they could start asking for autographs or interviews or help—she was on shore leave, dammit, didn’t that mean anything to people?  Liam, for once, wasn’t laughing, and a glance at his face showed an uncharacteristic tension around his eyes and mouth.  She made a split decision, as much for him as it was for her, as the footsteps of the people continued to sound behind them, their voices clamoring as they talked to her and about her, less than twenty feet away.  
As soon as they reached the corner of another row of planters, Sara yanked Liam with her, before taking off at a run.  “C’mon, Liam!” she urged, a surge of giddiness swelling within her.  He stumbled a step, but recovered quickly, easily keeping pace with her.
“This is a new one, Sara—literally running away from people.”  
“C’mon, Kosta!”  She glanced behind them, before picking up the pace, nearly dragging Liam in her wake.  “Go faster!”
“Not when you normally say that, but I’ll run with it.”  He was smiling now; she could hear it in his voice, and a wide grin split her face even as she rolled her eyes.  They raced through rows of plants, and down walkways—anything to outpace the people still dedicated enough to follow them.  If she had to guess, she’d go with reporters—always too tenacious to know when to leave a story alone, even in a completely different galaxy.  At least some things were constant.  She let out a whoop of laughter at the absurdity of it all.
Spying a darkened corner, a bit off of the path, Sara abruptly beelined towards it; the alcove was shadowed by a few stacks of shipping containers, and a covered walkway.  Perfect to throw their pursuers off their trail, and buy them a moment to catch their breath.  They had just enough of a lead—
Pulling Liam in after her, Sara’s back slammed into the wall, a giggle escaping her lips.  Not missing a beat, Liam pulled his hood up over his head, before pressing a finger to her lips as he peered through a crack in the crates blocking them from view.  She fought to quiet her mirth, and was suddenly aware of how close they were, close enough for her chest to press against his as she fairly gasped for air.
Faintly she heard the crowd’s grumbling as they moved off in another direction, thankfully paying no heed to —at least what was in her mind— an incredibly obvious hiding place.  Some part of Sara’s brain asserted that they all must have been terrible at hide-and-seek as children, and evidently something to that effect made its way out of her mouth, because Liam turned back to her with a rumbling chuckle.  It came from his chest; she could feel the vibrations of it faintly against her ribs, and her face flushed.  
Shadowed though his face was, there was no hiding the light in his eyes as he murmured, “You’re something else, Sara Ryder.”  
For a second she forgot how to breathe, and then in the next moment the front of his hoodie was in her fist as she pulled him down to her, nearly knocking against his nose in her eagerness.  He chuckled again, his fingers coming up to brush against her jaw before settling in her hair; his arm was firm around her waist as she fought to get closer to him, always closer.
He broke away first, resting his forehead against hers, eyes closed.  She noted, with satisfaction, that he seemed just as out of breath as she was.  “I’m not complaining, but what’s this all about?”
She nearly shivered at the way his words ghosted across her lips, and her hand tightened where it fisted into the fabric against his shoulder.  “Not enough kissing on this shore leave.”  There went her mouth again.  Wow, she really had a one-track mind when it came to him. Her cheeks flamed anew.
But Liam didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. His hand was cupping her jaw again, his body a firm anchor against the smooth surface of the wall.  She did shiver when he murmured against her lips, “Couldn’t agree more.  Let me help fix that, yeah?”
His lips fastened over hers once more, in that way he knew she loved, and she promptly decided that they would be taking shore leave and running away from people more often, if it meant they got this time together.  Especially if it meant he’d kiss her like that.  She’d do almost anything to get him to do that again, she felt so weak—
A thought popped into her head—quite rudely—and she put a hand on his chest; his lips tried to follow hers, before he blinked at her.  “Sorry for derailing your plan for our date.”
Adorable confusion colored his face, before realization dawned on him.  “No need.  While snogging had firmly been on the itinerary, I’m seeing that I didn’t allot nearly enough time for it.”  His hand brushed her side, and she curled into him.  “Walking, talking, drinks at the Vortex, maybe some dancing, before rounding out the evening with a tumble on the Tempest.”  She swallowed, as he amended, “Multiple tumbles on the Tempest.  If that’s okay.”
“That sounds great,” she blurted. “Way better than ‘okay’.”  His eyes snapped onto hers with laser focus, his fingers stilling from where he’d idly been tracing patterns against her hip.  Her stomach flipped.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”  She was reaching for his hand again.  “Although maybe…”
“ ‘Maybe…?’  I’m all ears.”
“Maybe we take the drinks and dancing back to the Tempest.  Don’t want to give people an accidental show between the dancing and the tumbling.”
“You’re a genius, Sara Ryder.  Way better plan.  I’m all in.”
She pressed up for one last kiss before leading them from their momentary refuge.  She peered around the corner of the nearest planter, seeing the coast was clear.  Quirking an eyebrow, she turned back to Liam.  “Race you back to the Tempest?”
His teeth flashed in that smile that made her all wobbly.  “You’re on.”
As they took off, hair whipping around her face, Sara laughed again. This was quickly shaping up to be the best shore leave ever.  She’d really need to remember to thank Lexi tomorrow, and take leave more often, if this is what it got them.  Time to take a breather, step away from the desk for a day…
And kissing.  Lots and lots of kissing.
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three-houses-text-files · 5 years ago
Text
hilda/raphael
c-a support + paired ending
c
Raphael: Right, then this goes here. Hilda: Hello, Raphael! H: What exactly are you doing with that piece of wood? R: Hey, Hilda! I'm just doing this! Hyaaah! H: With your bare hands! Impressive that just the outer ring is left. It makes quite a nice circle. R: Yeah! I just gotta polish it up and paint it, then the base of the necklace will be ready. H: Sorry, did you say "necklace"? R: How’s it look? I bet it's the right size too. And this tree bark smells amazing! R: Now I just need to carve these boar tusks to hang from it. H: Boar tusks? R: I almost forgot! I was going to add these wolf claws too. And I could even add some color to them... H: And wolf claws?! R: Huh? Is something wrong, Hilda? H: That necklace! It has a certain, ah, rustic charm? R: You’re right, it really does! Want me to make you one while I'm at it? H: Oh no! I wouldn't want to trouble you. Besides, I think it would look better on you than on me. R: It would definitely look good on me, but this one's actually a birthday present for my little sis. H: For your sister?! I mean, ah... H: Don't you think she might like something more feminine? Something cute! R: Something cute? What's wrong with something tough and rugged? This necklace is gonna have tusks and claws and stuff! H: But girls don't usually go for tusks and claws and stuff. There should be flowers, or gems, or... H: Here, I can talk you through it. If you're making a necklace for your sister... H: You might try putting a pretty little flower in a small crystal bottle, and sealing it with resin. R: If you say so. But where would I find a flower that was pretty enough? H: Oh, honestly, I don't know much about flowers. But, hm, now that I think about it... H: I remember hearing about a splendid flower that only blooms near Fódlan's Throat. R: Fódlan’s Throat? That's on the eastern edge of the Alliance! I'd have to leave now if I'm going to make it back in time. H: Huh. Yeah, that does seem like a bit of a stretch. OK, let me think... H: Um, where'd he go? Well, no matter.
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b
H: Who is it? R: It’s me! Raphael! H: Oh, Raphael! I'll get the door. H: What are you up to? Oh, whoa! H: What an enormous crate! And look what's in it. Crystal vials, shiny rocks... R: And I got this too! H: Aw, what a splendid flower, and so fresh! H: Hey, wait a second, is that for your sister? R: Yeah, I finally got my hands on "something cute," just like you suggested. H: That's so nice! But...wait a second. Is this that flower from Fódlan's Throat? R: Of course! I had to run to make it back in time. It was a lot farther than I thought! H: You ran all that way? And while we're on the topic, aren't these Almyran crystals? H: Such fine carvings on them! They must be the work of a true artisan. It couldn't have been easy getting your hands on these. R: I figured I should follow your advice! You know more about what's stylish than I ever could. H: Well done. I'm sure your sister will be pleased. All that's left is to make that necklace! R: Yeah, about that... R: I don't know how to put it together! I've spent so long trying to figure it out that the flowers have started wilting... R: There are only a few nice ones left. H: Huh. That's not good. H: I could try telling you how to make it, but you can't afford to lose any more flowers... H: Oh, all right. Looks like it's Hilda to the rescue! I'll take it from here. R: Seriously?! You're really gonna help me? H: Sure! I make myself things from time to time. And this is definitely easier than teaching you how. H: But you owe me for this! I expect to be paid back. R: Don’t you worry about that! I'll find something really nice to pay you back with. H: It couldn't have been easy finding all these trinkets. He must really love his sister. H: Still, older brothers can be so dense.
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a
H: Hey, Raphael. I finally finished that necklace for you. Here you go. R: Huh. Oh! Whoa! This is incredible! And so shiny! R: You’re like an artist, Hilda! How did you do this?! H: Just like I told you. I put the flowers and the shiny rocks in a bottle, and then poured in some resin to preserve everything. H: I thought the flowers you had were looking a little pathetic, so I added a few of my own. H: It was hard work, making sure the flowers and the stones were spread evenly, getting rid of the air bubbles... R: What’s this? The part you hang around your neck? I thought you'd use the one I gave you... H: Oh, yeah, no. That's a cord I braided. I was going to use metal, but some people are allergic to metal, so I figured, better safe than sorry. H: Anyway, you didn't give me much to work with, and look what I pulled off! I'm a miracle worker. R: It’s gorgeous! Beautiful! I've never seen anything like it! Thank you, Hilda! H: Whoa, hold up, what's with the blubbering? R: It’s just... I bet my sister never got anything so pretty in her whole life! R: She’s had to deal with so much because of me! I never got her anything this nice and cute before! R: She’s gonna love it...and be so happy... H: Ah, um, OK. Yes, OK, that's enough. Come on, you're embarrassing me here... H: If you're really that happy, I'm glad I put some effort into something. For once. R: Don’t— Don't you always put effort into things? H: Hah! That's sweet of you, but no. I don't want to put in effort and then disappoint people. It's dispiriting, not to mention tiring. R: But what if they're not disappointed? Then they'd feel great and you'd feel great too! H: Yeah, you have a point there. I guess I'm realizing that now. H: You know, thanks to you, I'm starting to see things from my brother's perspective. R: What do you mean? Do you have a big bro too? H: I do. I've always thought of him as an overprotective nuisance, but now I feel thankful. H: Looking at you, I couldn't help but think, "Eh, sometimes big brothers are OK." R: I didn't do anything special though. It's natural for a big bro to look after his little sis. R: Oh! That reminds me! I still haven't found anything special enough to repay you for the necklace. R: I got an idea though. How about I help you make a tough looking necklace for your big bro? H: No need. I have a better idea. H: When the war's simmered down, why don't you and your sister come visit me? R: Really? That's it? H: Yeah, I want to make sure it suits her. And then I can adjust the cord, if I need to. R: Of course we'll come visit! I told my sis all about you and she already wants to meet ya! H: Well, good. I look forward to it. In the meantime, hold me close to your heart. R: Uh…what? H: That's what the necklace would say, if it could talk! "Hold me close to your heart."
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paired ending
Raphael returned to his hometown, where he served his liege lord as a knight for a time. Later, he gave it up to help manage the inn that his family had opened up during his time away. One day, to the great joy of Raphael's sister, Maya, Hilda came to visit. Maya had always treasured the necklace Hilda had made for her. Moved by this, Hilda gave Maya a new gift of a hair band, which inspired Maya to suggest that Raphael convert the inn into an accessory shop. Hilda decided to stay and help out, and eventually became the shop's proprietor and chief artisan. She moved in with Raphael, and the two spent their lives happily dealing in fashionable accessories.
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wistfulcynic · 6 years ago
Text
Their Way By Moonlight: In The Aftermath (Chapter 3)
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a/n: I don't think I’ve ever been screamed at so much as I have over the ending of the last chapter. I wish I could apologise, but I’m not sorry. I delight in your agony, in fact. Bwah hah hah. 
It doesn’t let up much either, I fear. This one is definitely going to be angsty. Also mysterious, and I hope I can keep track of all the threads of it. Enjoy, and please keep your questions and theories about the curse coming! 
(This chapter contains allusions to a non-consensual relationship, due to the circumstances of the curse. If this is triggering for you please proceed with caution!)
Summary: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time the Saviour is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from her son and anyone else who might help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Hook are soulmates, working together within their shared dreams to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from the clutches of evil yet again. (Alternate 3B, set in the What Dreams May Come universe)
Rating: A hard M (and earning it in this chapter!)
Tagging: @teamhook @wellhellotragic @rouhn @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @let-it-raines @bonbonpirate @thejollyroger-writer
Anyone wishing to be added to or dropped from this tag list, please let me know!
Read it on AO3
In The Aftermath: 
Killian Jones, over the course of his long, long life, had experienced many things he wished he could forget. At times he felt steeped in bloodshed, in the violence and cruelty that had defined him for centuries, both as perpetrator and victim. He had been inches from death more times than he could count, had been stabbed and shot and beaten, and wielded as a weapon by those even more villainous than he. Yet the memory that haunted his dreams more than any other was not of battles or murder or treachery, it was of the icy, claw-like hand of Rumplestiltskin as it plunged into his chest and gripped his heart, threatening to tear out what he had no right to touch. There were still nights when he jerked awake in a cold sweat, breaking free from dreams in which the crocodile had finished the job, had ripped his heart from his chest and crushed the life from it. 
Watching Emma introduce Walsh as her husband, Killian sincerely wished he had. All the torments he had suffered at that demon’s hands, or those of Pan, or Cora, or any number of others over the long tread of the centuries, not one of them matched this, the sensation of his still-beating heart torn from him not by his most hated enemy but by the woman he loved. 
It’s the curse, he reminded himself, forcing the reminder through the red haze of hatred and fury swimming before his eyes. Only the curse. It’s not real. 
Which did nothing to alter the hideous reality of Emma standing before him, smiling into the eyes of the creature responsible for their current miserable circumstances. The hideous reality that he had no power to stop her, to change this. Not here. Not yet. 
And so Killian did what he had always done when he found himself overpowered, outmatched, backed into an impossible corner. He survived. He forced down his pain, buried it as deep as it would go and prepared himself for action. 
It was a measure of how far he had already travelled down the path away from villainy that this action did not take the form of ripping Walsh apart, and damn the consequences. Such impulses, as temporarily satisfying as they may be, had never ended well for him in the past. The bigger picture, he reminded himself. You have a plan. Stick to the bloody plan. 
Not to mention that this realm tended to frown on violent homicide. Another thing that had taken some getting used to.
So he arranged his face into a polite smile, grateful for the hours of practice that helped it slide naturally into place, nodded at this man who had stolen so much from him, shook hands and took his leave. The moment his back was turned to them the mask fell from his face, replaced by a fearsome determination. “Henry!” he called.
The boy turned, his cheerful smile fading to nothing as he took in Killian’s thunderous expression and the straining tension in his posture. 
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s your mother,” Killian snarled, no longer able to keep the rage from his voice. “She’s married to Walsh.”
“What?” Henry stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk and Killian hustled him along with a hand on his shoulder. “But how?”
“It’s the curse, of course. Someone has a bloody vicious sense of humour.”
“Does he know? I mean, does he have his memories?”
“I’m not sure. No, lad, don’t look!” Henry turned his head back, looking chastened. Killian put his arm around the boy’s shoulders, partly in comfort, partly to ensure he walked quickly. “We mustn’t attract attention,” he said. “What we need is to get back to the shop and reconnoiter. Marshal our resources and make a plan. Come, hurry now.” 
Arriving back at their new residence they collapsed on the sofa and sat in silence, lost in thought as the minutes ticked by. Finally Henry spoke. 
“What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know,” replied Killian, feeling frustrated and useless. “I don’t know that there’s anything we really can do, other than stick to the plan. Though it’ll be a damn sight more difficult now to pull it off.”
Henry lapsed into silence again, but his face wore the expression it got when he was thinking hard. “We need to find out how much she thinks she loves him,” he declared finally. “I think that might tell us how strong the curse is.” 
“What do you mean, lad?”
“Well, I’m spitballing a bit here, but I think we might be able to gauge the strength of the curse based on how strong the cursed relationships are.”
Killian considered that, and nodded. “All right, I’m following so far, tell me more.” 
“Okay, so like under the first curse, my granddad was married to Kathryn, but he didn’t really love her. He thought he had memories of loving her, but his real feelings were for my grandma.”
“Yes, but wasn’t that because David was in a coma and wasn’t given his cursed memories until he awoke and Regina was able to— to download them?” Killian struggled to remember what Emma had told him of the circumstances under the first curse. “So they would naturally be weaker than memories that had been created by the curse, when it began?”
“Maybe, but I think it’s because Mom was already in Storybrooke, already weakening the curse. It wasn’t just my grandparents, everything started to change when she got here. I think if she isn’t certain of her cursed feelings for Walsh then it may be a sign that this curse is weakening. We need to know that. We need to… to test the limits of her cursed feelings. To test them against her real feelings.” He gave Killian a sidelong glance, reluctant to meet his eyes. “If you see what I mean.”
“Aye. You’re saying that what I have to do is seduce a married woman.”
“Er— yeah. I guess.”
“Well, it’s not as though I’ve never done that before.” Killian sighed and ran his hand over his face and through his hair, forgetting for a moment who he was speaking with. “Though I confess I feel rather less enthusiasm for the venture than I once did. Not to mention that no version of Emma, cursed or not, is going to be terribly receptive to the idea of adultery.” 
Henry snorted a small laugh, and Killian looked at him sharply, feeling a twinge of guilt. He should definitely not be speaking so frankly of such things in front of the boy. Henry was so precocious that Killian sometimes forgot he was only thirteen. “What, lad?”
“It’s just ironic.” Henry shrugged. “You and Mom committing adultery with each other.” 
‘Indeed, though I fail to see any humour in the situation.” 
“Gallows humour, isn’t that what they call it?” 
“Ah, but when you have actually stood on a gallows with the noose around your neck, even that humour doesn’t inspire much of a laugh.” 
“Wait, you were hung?” Henry’s eyes widened in fascination. 
“Hanged, lad, and aye very nearly.” 
“Wow, okay you have got to tell me that story!”
Killian found himself smiling, cheered as he always was by Henry’s bright enthusiasm. Although he greatly enjoyed entertaining the boy with tales from his pirating days, heavily sanitised of course, the case of his near hanging was one that would not easily be scrubbed up for teenage consumption. “Perhaps later,” he said vaguely. “For now I believe we have established our plan for the moment, distasteful as it may be, and there is still rather a lot of work to be getting on with in the shop.”
“I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” grumbled Henry. 
“No such luck, my boy.” Killian clapped him on the shoulder, forcing cheer he did not feel into his voice. “Look lively, now! We have bookshelves to arrange!” 
That evening Killian took his time falling asleep, both because his mind was too agitiated for easy slumber and because he knew Emma would be waiting for him in the dream, and he feared what he might do when he saw her. Fury still simmered like a noxious potion in his gut, and anger management had never been his forte. 
He indulged in a long shower then spent nearly two hours attempting to read, forcing his attention to remain on the pages though the words danced before his eyes and refused to be absorbed by his brain. Gradually, despite his determined efforts, his body relaxed and his eyes drifted shut and he is in their bedroom, there among the familiar beloved surroundings as though nothing has changed, as though he could stand here assailed by memories of all the times they have made love in that bed and not feel the wrenching pain of all that has been taken from him. Emma is perched on the edge of the bed, waiting, looking apprehensive. With a snarl and a wave of his hand, Killian tears them away, brings them to the living area of his new abode, an acceptably neutral venue although its edges and corners are indistinct, his memory of the place too inexact to replicate it precisely. They are firmly clothed, clad in their typical styles. They need to talk, and he does not wish to attempt conversation whilst distracted by her naked form.   
She sits beside him on the couch and says nothing, waiting for him to speak. 
“How?” he says after a long silence, his voice an agonised croak. “How can it be him? How can he be here? I thought we’d dealt with him!”
“He did say he wasn’t easy to get rid of.” 
“Emma, you pushed him off the bloody roof! He turned to dust!” 
“Maybe that doesn’t destroy them, it didn’t in the dream.” 
“Flying bloody monkeys, of all the demonic things! And now you’re married to one!”
“Curse married!” she cries, her careful composure finally breaking. “It’s not real, Killian, you know it isn’t!”
“It’s real enough when you’re living with the bastard,” he snarls, “when you believe he’s your husband.” 
“Babe, I’m—” 
He winces as the endearment he secretly adores pierces his heart. “Don’t call me that!” His voice breaks. “That’s what you called him.”
She slides closer to him, reaches for his hand. He lets her take it, though her touch burns him. “Killian, my love, my soulmate, the only man in my heart,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, but I tried to tell you. You had to have suspected this.” 
“Aye,” he says bitterly, “I suspected you may be— involved with someone under the curse, but I thought it would be Baelfire! He at least loved you once. He at least is a man. The idea of that heartless monster in your bed, touching you, touching my—”
“Shhhh,” she soothes. “Don’t think about it.” 
“How the bloody hell can you possibly expect me not to think about it!”
“I just don’t want you to dwell on it!” she says, irritation creeping into her tone, her own anger and frustration and guilt seeping through. “You know how you get when you brood. It just makes your darkness harder to fight, and I need you to stay in the light, Killian. For me and for Henry, and for yourself. We have to stick together, fight this together. But we can’t fight anything if you hold on to anger. Believe me when I say I hate this situation as much as you do— more, even, as I’m the one who actually has to live it— but we can’t stop it unless we stay strong, and stay together.”
He knows she is right, and though it does nothing to lessen his fury he is able to push it down again, and to take her in his arms. She sighs in relief, snuggling close. “I’m sorry, Emma,” he whispers. “I promised not to falter, and at the first challenge here I am, faltering.”
“It’s not faltering, you have a right to be angry. I’m freaking furious. I hate being stuck in this and I hate how much it’s hurting you.” 
They sit wrapped around each other for a long time as Killian debates whether to ask the question he needs an answer to, not wanting to disturb their pleasant moment but knowing he has to ask. He swallows hard, loathing the words as he forces them from his throat. “Do you love him?”
She buries her face deeper into his neck and he can feel tears leaking from her eyes. “I— I think so. I’m so sorry.” 
Even though he knows they are speaking of her cursed self, even though he knows none of this is her fault, he can’t stop the fury rising again, this time woven through with ugly streaks of jealousy. 
He clenches his fist, sending the dream whirling around them and they are back in their bedroom, naked, and she is handcuffed to the wrought iron headboard. She gives a startled gasp, pulls experimentally on the restraints then looks up at where he stands next to he bed. He dares her with his eyes to make something of it, knowing that she could whisk the shackles away as easily as breathing, knowing also that she won’t. She nods, and he knows she understands that he needs this, needs to work out some of his frustration and fury on her body. 
He has the hook now, sharp and gleaming in the soft light, and she bites her lip as he brandishes it. She knows he won’t hurt her, but the fact that the potential for pain is there excites her. Captain Hook excites her, and though Killian is sometimes not sure how he feels about that he is grateful that she loves all of him, even the ugly parts. 
He drags the hook up the inside of her thigh and over her mound, tickling the golden curls atop it, watching with dark amusement as she holds her breath and tries not to writhe. She wants the hook on her clit, he knows, he knows exactly how she likes to be touched with it, but tonight he is not in the mood to give her what she wants right away. He wants to torture her a bit first, wants her breathless and helpless, begging for what only he can give. 
He wants reassurance that he is the only man she loves. He knows he is, but tonight he needs to feel it.
He teases her with the hook through her curls a few moments more, applying pressure that has her squirming but not slipping it into her folds. Instead he traces patterns up her belly, around her navel then along the underside of her breast, dragging the sharp tip across her flesh just hard enough for her to feel it, not even leaving the faintest mark behind. Hundreds of years of practice have given him a finesse with this appendage, a delicacy of touch that seems incongruous to the heft and intent of the hook. She is whimpering now, though he doubts she is aware of doing so, her eyes shut tight and her hands gripping and releasing the headboard she is chained to. He brings the hook up to her nipple, circling it with the curved edge before pressing the tip into the centre of the hardened bud. She gasps, and the chain of the handcuffs clangs against the headboard as she struggles against her bonds. He applies pressure that falls just short of pain, and through the haze of her mindless arousal she forces out a single word. 
“More.” 
“What’s that, darling?” he inquires, as though he hasn’t heard her. “Do you wish me to stop?”
“No! More. H-harder.” 
His brow furrows slightly. Any harder and he will definitely hurt her, but he complies, increasing the pressure and tilting the tip until it sinks into her skin, not enough to draw blood but barely shy of it. She makes a low, keening noise he’s never heard from her before, part pleasure but part a twisted sort of yearning that springs from the same dark impulses that drove him to restrain her. She is doing penance, he realises, assuaging her guilt over hurting him by bringing pain upon herself.
Part of him wants to let her do it. Instead he pulls his hook away. 
“No—” she whines.
“Swan.” 
“Killian, please.” 
“You needn’t do this, love.”
“Yes I do, I need it—“
“Darling—” 
“Damn it, Hook! I need you to fuck me and not be gentle about it, and you know you need that too!” 
He hesitates. She is right, he is simmering with violence that needs an outlet, but he doesn’t truly wish to hurt her. A bit of teasing with the tip of his hook is one thing, actual punitive pain quite another. Killian is a broad-minded man but true pain has never turned him on. He’s known far too much of it for that. If she is determined to make amends to him —though there are none owed— she can do it simply by letting him have his way with her, putting herself at his mercy and letting him fuck her as he pleases. 
“Very well,” he says, “But we do this my way.” 
She nods eagerly and he returns the hook to her nipple, stroking its curve over the small pinprick of a bruise that has formed there, at the same time biting hard on the other breast, sucking another bruise into her skin. She thrashes beneath him, on-edge and desperate, and he chuckles against her flesh. This is the kind of pain he prefers to give her. She won’t be coming for some considerable time. 
He sucks a line of bruises along her collarbone and the curve of her neck as his hand slips slowly down her body, coming to rest between her legs. He presses the heel of it against her, rocking it gently, stimulating her clit without direct touch. Her heels dig into the mattress as she lets her legs fall apart, wordlessly begging him to touch her properly, but he ignores her plea. His cock is rock hard and aching, his hand already drenched with her arousal, but he pays them no mind, instead licking a trail up her neck, soothing the marks he’s left there, making her shiver. 
“Damn you,” she whispers, but there is no heat behind the curse. “Why can’t you just fuck me?”
“All in good time, my love.” This is torture, after all, and he is a very patient man. 
He reaches out with his mind and manipulates the dream, and shackles appear on her ankles to match the ones on her wrists, spreading her legs wide. He kisses down her belly and over her mound, nuzzling his nose into the wet curls. She is intensely aroused and she smells amazing, musky and sweet, his favourite smell in the world. He wants to bury his face in her cunt and lick it clean. Soon, he promises himself. Very soon.  
He kisses lightly over the damp hair, humming as he gets a taste of her, the vibrations making her buck her hips, her scream of frustration very nearly drowned out by the clang of the shackles against the bedframe. He waits. She is better at managing the dreams than he is, she could put a stop to this at any time, could reverse their places and shackle him to the bed. She’s done it before. But the dream remains unchanged, and he feels a rush of love for her. She understands. No one has ever understood him as she does. 
Slowly he parts her glistening flesh with his tongue and licks patterns through it with just the tip, still teasing, allowing neither of them what they truly want. She is moaning and twisting, straining to bring him closer to where she wants him, her range of movement limited by the shackles on her ankles. He licks deeper, caressing her swollen flesh with the flat of his tongue, dancing around her clit until she screams at him, damns him, and finally begs him in a broken voice to let her come.
This is what he has been waiting for. He drops a kiss onto her curls and sits up, taking just a moment to position himself before plunging his cock deep inside her. She’s so wet she squelches, and despite the tightwire tension in their bodies they both snigger at the sound. Normally the dream smoothes over such things but tonight they are both longing for what feels real. He removes the restraints as he begins to move inside her, and she wraps her arms and legs around him, blanketing him with her love and nourishing him with her strength. He thrusts hard and relentlessly, looping his hook through the iron sworls of the headboard, and she clings to him, letting him ride her, fuck her deep into the mattress. This is what they have both been craving, and it’s not long before they come, crying out in unison as pleasure engulfs them. 
They cling to each other in the aftermath. The dream never lasts long after they finish, and none of their attempts to prolong it have yet been successful. Her arms are tightly wound around his neck and she is crying again. 
“I don’t want to let you go,” she sobs. “I don’t want you to be a stranger the next time I see you.” 
His heart breaks for what feels like the millionth time, and he wonders at the resilience of the organ, how it hasn’t crumbled into dust ages ago. “I know, my love,” he says. “It hurts more than I thought it would. But we will get through this, somehow, you and I. Together.”      
She nods, but her tears are still flowing. He brushes them away with his thumb and smiles reassuringly even through his own agony, groping for the words she needs to hear. “I’ve not believed in much in my life,” he says finally, “But I believe in you, Emma Swan, and I will fight for you. I’ll never stop.” 
“I know you won’t,” she whispers. “I love you so much, Killian.” 
“I love you too, darling.” 
Killian woke with a start, as was common after a shared dream. Less common was waking to the sounds of sobbing from the other side of the wooden divider. Quickly he cleaned himself up with the tissues he’d left on the nightstand for that purpose and slipped on some pajama bottoms, slid his feet into the sheepskin slippers he’d lined up neatly next to the bed the night before, then padded silently over to Henry’s curtain. “Henry?” he said softly, wishing he had a door to knock on. “Are you all right, lad? May I come in?”
There was a moment of silence, apart from sniffling. Finally Henry replied. “Come in.” 
Killian pushed aside the curtain and approached the bed where Henry was curled, his tearstained face pressed into his pillow. 
“What’s this, my boy?” asked Killian gently, sitting down on the edge of the bed and brushing the hair from his forehead. “What’s troubling you?”
“I was just thinking about my mom,” said Henry. “And how she’s stuck with Walsh and she doesn’t know what he is. And my other mom, we don’t even know what her life is like now. And my dad, I— I kind of thought he might be with my mom here, but now we don’t know where he is either, and I just feel like everything’s wrong! I’ve got three parents and none of them know me. No one who loves me even knows who I am!” He sobbed again, and buried his face in Killian’s shoulder. 
Heart breaking yet again —how could it keep doing that?— Killian wrapped his arms around Henry and hugged him tightly. “I love you, Henry,” he said. 
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” said Henry, his voice muffled in Killian’s t-shirt. 
“I would never insult you with such a deception, lad. I know I’m not really your father, but I certainly couldn’t love you more if I were.” 
“Really?” The hope in Henry’s voice wrenched at him, and Killian tightened his arms. 
“Of course. How could I not? You’re Emma’s son, Baelfire’s son. Milah’s grandson. Very nearly everyone I’ve ever loved has had a hand in making you.”
“What about Rumplestiltskin?”
“Aye, well, let’s not dwell too heavily on his contribution, hmmm?”
Henry chuckled through his tears. 
“And even if that weren’t the case, I would still love you for yourself. Your courage and your optimism and your imagination have kept me strong throughout this whole ordeal. I truly don’t know what I would have done without you. Something dreadful, no doubt.” 
“No, you wouldn’t’ve,” said Henry earnestly. “Don’t think like that. You’re not a villain anymore, you haven’t been for a long time. A villain wouldn’t have taken care of me all this time, no matter who my parents were. And I love you too. Dad.” 
Killian smiled as tears prickled behind his eyes, touched beyond measure by Henry’s faith. Sometimes the lad was just so much like Emma. He stroked Henry’s back until he fell asleep, then eased himself away, pressing a kiss onto the boy’s hair before he left. 
The next morning they awoke to rain, sheets of water pouring down the large windows of their loft, lightning and thunder cracking and booming off the distant shore. By unspoken mutual agreement and after a quick trip to the grocery store, Henry and Killian spent the day indoors, arranging the shop and preparing for the delivery they expected the next day. In the evening they cooked dinner together, baked fish and vegetables at Killian’s insistence (and which Henry no longer objected to very strenuously; once Killian learned that the spices which in his realm were valued more highly than gold could be had in this one for mere sheets of their odd paper currency, he had taken to applying them lavishly to everything he cooked, vastly improving it in the boy’s opinion) and curled up on the sofa to eat it, watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Henry’s choice. Despite everything, in that moment Killian felt happy. He wanted this to be his life: Henry and Emma and quiet days where nothing happened, no lust for revenge, no looming threats or reasons to hurt people. He missed his ship, terribly, missed the freedom of the open seas, but he didn’t miss being a pirate. It occurred to him that if he’d been able to choose all those centuries ago, that young, upright, wide-eyed version of himself, if he’d had the luxury of choosing the path his life would take he’d have chosen this. A family, a respectable career, a peaceful existence. He knew he’d done nothing to deserve it, but he yearned for it nonetheless, and was prepared to do whatever was necessary to secure it. 
The following day dawned bright and sunny, with the fresh-washed feeling that comes after a heavy storm, and Killian declared that it was time for Henry to go to school. 
“You’re all enrolled,” he said, pouring milk into two bowls of breakfast cereal. “You just need to report to the principal’s office to collect your schedule.”
Henry made an indistinct noise that Killian interpreted as reluctant consent. 
“Do you wish me to walk with you?” he inquired. 
“No, I’ll be fine. I went to that school for years, remember?”
“Aye, of course. It’s still a new start, though.” 
“Yeah,” said Henry rather glumly, mashing the cereal with the back of his spoon.  
Killian wondered what this could be about. Henry was usually quite an enthusiastic student. “Is everything all right, lad?” he asked, attepting a casual tone. 
Henry frowned and thought before replying. “Are you sure I have to go to school today?” he said finally. You don’t need me here for anything?”
Aha, thought Killian. This must be what the books called “separation anxiety,” uncommon in children as old as Henry but not unknown, and quite understandable in this case. It had been just the two of them for so long Henry was naturally reluctant to go off on his own. “I’m always glad of your assistance, but you must go to school,” he said firmly. “And don’t forget, this is part of the plan. You’re our undercover agent, collecting intelligence. Report back to me this afternoon on anything you can learn about the curse and how it’s affecting people. What their new identities are, any hint of who might be behind this. You know what to look for. Your mum and I are relying on you.” 
Henry perked up slightly at this and nodded. “I can have a spy notebook, and write things in code,” he said, his clever mind clearly already forming plans. 
“That’s the spirit,” said Killian, smiling to himself as Henry began to eat his cereal. When he’d finished he collected his backpack and permitted Killian to hug him goodbye before heading out the door, the habitual spring still in his step. Killian watched him through the wide front window, feeling a small twinge when he disappeared around the corner. He missed the lad already. Perhaps separation anxiety went both ways. 
To distract himself, he made a cup of tea and went downstairs to spend a relaxing hour setting up the accounts for the bookstore. It was something he flattered himself that he was quite good at, having discovered to his considerable amusement that running a business was in many ways not dissimilar to captaining a pirate ship. As captain he had been responsible for keeping records of their takings and ensuring that each crewmember received his fair share, while as a business owner he would need to keep records of the store’s sales and he hoped eventually pay himself and any employees a salary. On his ship he had maintained inventories of their provisions, set and enforced duty rosters, made plans for where to hunt their next take — or how to grow his business, to use the terminology of this realm. All of which turned out to be skills he could transfer to the relatively sedate task of running a bookstore. Who would have guessed that all those years he’d actually had a profession that was considered respectable in this realm, he reflected with a smirk. Of course, the reputation for ruthlessness and bloodlust he’d taken great pains to cultivate was not exactly standard procedure for businesspeople in this realm, but from what he’d read about many of the more successful CEOs his methods had been almost tame by comparison.
He was startled from his musings by the sound of the shop door opening, and a voice calling “Hello? Is anyone here?”
Kilian rose and went down to the ground floor, startled into momentary dumbness at the sight of the woman standing hesitantly in the centre of the room. 
“Swan?” he said, once he had found his voice. “What are you doing here?”
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mss4msu · 6 years ago
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“Do I Wanna Know?” (Chapter 1)
Summary: On a visit to a local nightclub, the lounge singer catches your eye. Soon becoming a regular at the club, the way you look on the dancefloor gets his attention. You begin to hear stories about the notorious crime lord who owns and operates the small nightclub. When your friends worry that you’ve gotten mixed up with a mobster, you wonder if it’s better to be left in the dark and find yourself asking, “Do I wanna know?” if you’re getting involved with one of the most revered mobsters in the city.
Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Reader
Words: 2041
A/N: I went to an Arctic Monkeys concert and the lead singer had serious Seb GQ shoot vibez and I decided I needed a gangster fic featuring Arctic Monkeys songs so here it is. The fic (and this chapter specifically) are inspired by “Do I Wanna Know?”
Read the Full Story Here
The song in this chapter can be listened to here
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“Come on, (Y/N), let’s gooooo!” your best friend, Jess, banged on the bathroom door.
“Give me one sec, I’m almost done!” you called back, applying one more coat of mascara and a last layer of red lipstick. You swung open the door of the bathroom.
“Dayyuumm!” Jess yelled at you, looking you up and down. You had chosen to wear your simple black dress that really accentuated your cleavage. “Alright, let’s go, Rachel’s meeting us there and we’re gonna be late because you took so long getting ready.”
“Oh, shut up,” you grabbed your purse off its hook, checking that your keys and wallet were inside and adding your phone. “How are we getting there?”
“I forgot you never go out,” Jess laughed at you, “I looked it up and the bus that stops right outside your place runs by it, so we’ll take that there and then grab a ride-share back here?”
“And why can’t we just take your car?”
“Because I don’t want to drive, because this place has the cheapest drinks in the area, so you know I’m going all in on those.”
“But the police just issued that new warning about public transportation at night….” you nervously replied. You had been reading through the newspaper this morning and seen that the mob activity in your area was increasing and the police were warning pedestrians to avoid particular bus routes, such as the one in front of your apartment, to cut down on potential innocent involvement.
“I’ve taken this exact bus route to this club before and I’ve survived. Plus, as long as we get on the bus now, there’s enough light that it shouldn’t be a problem. Now, come on, the bus gets here in 6 minutes and I don’t want to miss it and half to wait another 30.”
You didn’t bother arguing with her, and just followed her to the bus stop. You boarded the bus and couldn’t help but look anxiously around until Jess hit you to stop. She began chatting with you about meaningless things to keep your mind off the idea that mobsters could take over the bus at any minute.  
“Alright, this is our stop,” Jess said, grabbing your hand and pulling you off the bus.  You followed her like a lost puppy. You knew you could trust her, but your irrational side was terrified that mob guys were behind every corner and hidden in every shadow. You didn’t even know what a mob guy would look like, but you were terrified of them anyway.
You got to the door of the club and gave your IDs to the doorman. He seemed to linger on your ID longer than he did on Jess’s, but eventually he gave you a nod and opened the door for both of you to enter. A hostess met you inside the door and led you to the only open table in the very front of the dark club. With only dim candles to provide you light, you could hardly read the drink menu.
“(Y/N), stop trying to read that menu. Even your cheap ass can afford a drink here. There’s literally nothing over 10 dollars,” Jess snapped at you. “Rachel’s here!” She waved towards the door trying to catch Rachel’s eye in the dark room.
“Good luck getting her to see you. I don’t think I could even find my purse in here if I took it off.”
“Stop being a grump,” she told you as Rachel got to the table.
“Hey! (Y/N)! I can’t believe Jess got you to leave the house on a Friday for once! To what do we owe the honor?” Rachel asked you, sitting down.
“I had a long fucking week with Mr. Stark and I needed a night out,” you replied. When you were hired as Tony Stark’s personal assistant you had thought it would be a glamorous job full of cocktail hours and million dollar deals that you would take notes on; instead it was a whole lot of getting coffee, picking up dry cleaning, and late nights ensuring his many employees were properly scheduled for their work shifts. For whatever reason, Stark’s business had a high turnover of employees, so you had to continually update the schedule.
The waiter came to your table to take your orders. As you couldn’t read the menu, you simply asked for the cheapest thing that contained alcohol. Just a few minutes later a tallboy of PBR was placed in front of you. You downed it as the waiter gave Jess and Rachel their drinks, giving you a chance to order another.
“Damn, (Y/N)! I don’t even want to tell you to slow down!” Jess said.
“Yaaasss girl! This is gonna be a good night!” Rachel chimed in.
You caught up with both of them and learned all about their love lives and their work struggles. As your life basically revolved around Tony Stark, you didn’t have much to add to the conversation.
“Alright, It’s almost 9:00! (Y/N), get ready to see one of THE hottest men you have ever laid your eyes on!” Jess told you excitedly.
“I thought we came for the cheap drinks?” you asked confused.
“The cheap drinks are an added bonus, the lounge singer is the main event,” Rachel told you. “This man has the voice of an angel and the face of one too.”
“Alright, this was definitely a good night to come out then!” you replied, finishing your second beer and beginning to feel a buzz.
The lights on the stage came up, and a silence fell over the crowd. The curtain opened and you saw a tall, muscular man in a well-fitting suit standing behind a microphone, joined on the stage by a bass, a piano, and a drummer.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, The White Wolf and The Howlers,” an announcer voice said from somewhere off-stage. Applause filled the club.
“A one, a two, a one, two, three, four,” the man at the microphone, whom you assumed was ‘The White Wolf’, counted in with snaps. The drums began and the bass and piano joined in to create the beat. The White Wolf swayed side to side, feeling the music. He began to sing:
Have you got colour in your cheeks? Do you ever get the fear that you can't shift the type That sticks around like summat in your teeth? Are there some aces up your sleeve? Have you no idea that you're in deep? I’ve dreamt about you nearly every night this week How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I found That makes me think of you somehow And I play it on repeat Until I fall asleep Spilling drinks on my settee
You most certainly did have color in your cheeks as you audibly gulped, looking at Jess and Rachel. They quietly laughed at your response and Rachel whispered, “told ya!” in you ear. You could not believe how incredibly handsome this man was and couldn’t figure out how his voice could sound so smooth and yet slightly (and very sexily) raspy at the same time. Everything about him was perfect and you turned your attention back to him, not wanting to ever part your eyes from his face.
(Do I wanna know?) If this feeling flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hoping that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For saying things that you can't say tomorrow day
Crawling back to you Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? ‘Cause I always do Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new Now I’ve thought it through Crawling back to you
If you didn’t know better, you could’ve sworn that his eyes were locked on your just as tightly as yours were on him. It sent a tingling feeling through your stomach and up your spine.
So have you got the guts? Been wondering if your heart’s still open And if so, I wanna know what time it shuts Simmer down and pucker up I’m sorry to interrupt, it’s just I’m constantly on the cusp Of trying to kiss you I don’t know if you feel the same as I do We could be together if you wanted to
Now you knew he was staring at you as he mocked a kiss in your direction, causing Jess and Rachel to squeal. You had always laughed at those old romantic stories of women swooning, but you were convinced you could swoon any minute, as you were suddenly feeling very hot.
(Do I wanna know?) If this feeling flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hoping that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For saying things that you can't say tomorrow day
Crawling back to you Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? ‘Cause I always do Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new Now I’ve thought it through Crawling back to you
(Do I wanna know?) If this feeling flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hoping that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For saying things that you can't say tomorrow day
(Do I wanna know?) Too busy being yours to fall (Sad to see you go) Ever thought of calling, darling? (Do I wanna know?) Do you want me crawling back to you?
The lights on the stage went out and the curtains closed.
“What I wouldn’t give to have him crawling back to me right now,” you moaned to Jess and Rachel, causing them to both giggle. “Is that it? He just does one?” You were practically begging him back on stage.
“He always opens the night and then a few other acts come on and then he closes the show,” Jess told you.
“Holy shit, he was amazing,” you gushed.
“Yeah, he never disappoints,” Rachel replied.
You motioned for the watier to come to your table, “Dear sir, another round for the three of us on me in honor of my introduction to this very fine,” you looked at the stage, “establishment!”
The waiter brought you the drinks and you slid him a large tip, feeling extra generous now that you had been blessed by the voice of the angelic White Wolf. The rest of the night dragged on as you waited for the White Wolf to return to the stage for his closing act.
“Ok, this should be him up next!” Jess told you.
Your heart started racing as the curtain closed as the group currently on the stage finished.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to announce that The White Wolf and The Howlers have been called away to another gig. Our closing act for this evening will now be The Freightcars!”
“What the fuck!” You immediately covered your mouth, not meaning to swear out loud, but you had had 2 drinks too many and couldn’t control your language.
Jess and Rachel laughed. Rachel pulled out her phone to order a ride-share to pick you up.
“Come on, (Y/N), let’s get you home,” Jess grabbed your arm and helped you up, steering you towards the door.
The ride back to your apartment was filled with you gushing about how incredibly hot you thought the White Wolf was and how you needed to have him in your life. Jess and Rachel fed your obsession, trying to help you find him on social media. They successfully found the band’s Instagram page and you immediately liked it and in a drunken haze liked every single photo they had ever posted.
“Rachel, Jess, thank you for a wonderful evening that has changed my life forever. Same time next week?” You asked, unlocking your door and hugging them goodbye before they went to Jess’s car.
“Sure thing!” Rachel replied, laughing.
“I’m glad we’ve found something that’ll get you out of the house and away from the office!” Jess giggled, getting in the car.
You laid in bed scrolling through The White Wolf and The Howlers’ Instagram until you fell asleep.
CHAPTER TWO
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heartofhryule · 6 years ago
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Breath of the Wild: Captured Memories - Chapter 7
Preface and Disclaimer; First and foremost; SPOILER WARNINGS. If you have not played The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, or completed the Captured Memories Quest and want to stay unspoilered for it, DO NOT READ. Keep Reading link provided for that reason. 
So I am writing these as I play through BotW for the first time - which means they probably won’t be ‘one-a-day’ consistent - I have finally gotten all of the memories, but not yet gone for the final fight at Hyrule Castle. #Soon. I will post them as I can though! Promise! I also plan to include links to the cutscene for you to watch at the bottom, if so desired - at least for the ones I can find. Any other warnings that become necessary, I will add for content as I go. For now, enjoy! [All Chapters here for your reading enjoyment.]
Y’all… Dammit Salty Bird. I got irritated all over again rewatching the scenes to get the dialog for Revali’s scenes. He’s SUCH a well written character... and I hate him. Well, hate is strong. But I really, really dislike him a lot. Even when he “gets better” he’s still a !@#%%^&^er. But, I like this chapter, and I hope you will too. Chapter 7 - Revali’s Flap
The Rito Village, and land surrounding, was genuinely breathtaking. The wood and canvas huts that served as both homes and shops were built around the landscape’s large peaks of sandstone. This design allowed wind to blow through the village unhindered without disrupting structural integrity. At this altitude and in the region, Link was chilled. Pretty much constantly. But, he’d bought some new armor from the nice Rito vendor in trade for some amber and a few sapphires he’d found. Now he was nice and toasty warm.
Sitting by the cooking pot inside a part of the village’s inn, Link stared into the fire as his dinner marinated. He’d been here before. He could feel it, and this was not a place soon forgotten. It might have been if it was the first place he’d come, but even then the striking beauty of the land, difference in architecture, and the colorful individuality of its inhabitants were like nothing else in all of Hyrule.
Maybe that was the opinion of an ignorant Hylian child that he had once been. He had grown up in and around the Zora Domain in the Lanayru Province. This knowledge was coming back to him slowly, and explained why he’d gone there first. It also meant the Zora had never seemed odd to him, though consequently neither had they seemed particularly awe inspiring in a long, long while. The Rito however, were a different story.
Ladelling out his dinner from the pot, simmered fruit for the moment as he was cold, tired and in need of foraging for some supplies, Link leaned back against the solid wood support beam of the hut. Simmered fruit made him think of his mother - now that he remembered her face. She made the best, and had taught him long ago. It always made him feel better.
He needed that right now. There was a long way to go for him to find all the locations in Zelda’s album, and take back control of two more Divine Beasts from Ganon. He was tired, and had only arrived less than an hour before, deciding that he was going to eat something before speaking with the Tribe Chief. In the sky overhead, Vah Medoh let out a shrill and bone chilling cry. The enormous ancient technology flew overhead in the shape of a bird, stone and metal kept aloft by gigantic propellers and magic. Glancing up, and giving a good, long look at the Calamitous energies pulsing through the construct, Link ate his simmered fruit quickly.
No rest for the weary, as it were.
After eating, he asked directions to speak with the Rito Chief and had the oddest interaction. It was as though the Chief could tell he was the fallen hero, but couldn’t accept it. Link had stopped bothering to try and explain it to people months ago at this point. He was told of Teba, and that perhaps the warrior could help him, if nothing else the Chief was worried.
But it was the following conversation with Teba’s wife that ignited something in Link. She showed him Revali’s Landing, a flight platform just outside her home named for the Champion of the Rito from a century ago. Looking at it, Link was taken by a memory.
***
Standing out on the center of the flight platform, Link craned his neck and shielded his eyes to look up at the impressive Vah Medoh high above him. It truly was an impressive piece of ancient technology, and he’d listened intently to Zelda lament at great length that she would never be able to set foot on such a marvel. The sky was the clearest blue surrounding the Divine Beast, and wind cool despite the sun’s warmth. But then, it was always cool in the Hebra region.
Just as Link had the thought he should probably go find the Rito Champion, as that was whom he had climbed the peaks to see on behalf of Zelda, the wind picked up. At first it was small, but it rapidly build to a steady cyclonic breeze that seemed to come from beneath the platform.
In the blink of an eye and the flash of dark grey feathers, the Rito Champion appeared from below. Shooting up into the air high above, Revali spread his charcoal and white feathered wings, gliding down to a light and graceful landing before Link.
“Impressive, I know,” the Rito archer said in his normal, smug tenor. “Very few can achieve mastery of the sky. Yet I have made an art of creating an updraft that allows me to soar. It’s considered to be quite the masterpiece of aerial techniques, even among the Rito.” Revali turned to pose dramatically, one wing lifted where he was backlit by the sun in the beautiful day.
Link managed to not roll his eyes at Revali’s grandiloquence, giving him a tight-lipped smile. Revali didn’t like him - Link knew this. The Rito felt within his superior self image that he should have been the Princess’s appointed knight as he was clearly the most capable and worthy of the Champions. Clearly.
Though the Rito had never said those words exactly, it was the undertone of every word, sneer, snort and action the Champion took while in Link’s presence to date. Somehow the Hylian knight had a feeling this interaction would be no different.
Link found Revali cutting him a sharp look, speaking again before the knight could give a syllable of proper greeting. “With the proper utilization of my superior skills, I see no reason why we couldn’t easily dispense with Ganon,” be boasted with a bow. Hopping down from the railing on which he’d perched, Revali tucked his wings behind his back as if about to give a dissertation (which Link had no doubt he was going to do just that). Strolling forward, Revali’s expression was one of barely contained detestation. “Now then, my ability to explored the firmament is certainly of note… But let’s not- and pardon me for being so blunt-” he said as his tone changed from fairly condescending to outright patronizing, “Let’s not forget the fact that I am the most skilled archer of all the Rito.”
“Oh here we go,” Link muttered to himself into the wind.
“Yet despite these truths, it seems I have been tapped to merely assist  you. All because you happen to have that little darkness sealing sword on your back. I mean, it’s just… asinine.” The only thing that prevented Link from drawing his sword then and there and teaching this megalomaniac of a Rito a lesson, was self control. As Revali’s red-feather rimmed, green eyes cut snidely to him, Link crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. The absurdity of this entire monologue was as laughable as it was insulting. Clearly, Revali liked hear the sound of his own voice.
“Unless,” the Rito Champion added after a moment, “You think you can prove me wrong?” He took one large step closer to Link. The bird man who was a good head taller than the Hylian leaned in, beak to nose and invading Link’s personal space aggressively. “Maybe, we should just settle this one on one.”
Link opened his mouth to say that he had no problem with Revali… not until this conversation at least, but the archer turned away and continued his drama. “But where?” he asked the wind, one wing crossed his chest as the other pretended to stroke his beak in thought. “Oh, I know! How’bout up there?!”
With a grand sweep of one wing, Revali motioned to the sky, where Vah Medoh was soaring past, making its rounds. “Oh! You must  pardon me,” Revali chuckled, his tone even more supercilious than before, “I forgot you have no way of making it up to that Divine Beast on your own.” The last words were spoken with actual open aggression as the Champion spread his wings sharply, and took to the skies, leaving Link behind on the platform.
As Revali grew smaller towards Vah Medoh, and the vision began to fade, the Rito’s parting jab echoed the skies. “Good luck sealing the Darkness!”
***
As he came back to himself, Link was being stared at oddly by Teba’s concerned wife. Apparently she’d asked if he was alright, while he’d been lost to the past. “Oh, I’m sorry, yes - thank you ma’am.”
Giving him an uncertain look, she touched a delicate wing to her beak. “If you’re sure… you seemed… angry? Irritated at least. Are you well?”
Cracking his neck at the legitimate frustration Revali’s personality had left him with, he nodded. “It was… just not a pleasant memory, ma’am. Sorry to space out like that- but I promise, I will find your husband, and bring him back alive.
“Oh thank you!” she said sincerely. “Please… be safe.”
---
The knight held his shoulder and looked around the topside of Vah Medoh. The Windblight Ganon creature that had held control of Vah Medoh for so long was gone, fallen to the Master Sword. Well the Master Sword, and a not insignificant amount of bomb arrows.
Staring at the Main Control panel ten yards from where he stood, injured and exhausted, Link smirked to himself. He should just sit down, right here, and bake some apples to eat so he could regain a bit of his strength. It had been a hard fight! It had taken a lot out of him! And Revali could sit around and complain all he wanted, since there wasn’t anything the spirit of the Rito Champion could do about it.
He deserved as much for the prickly and haughty manner in which he’d been speaking while Link tried to subvert Ganon’s corruption. Though the change in tone as the hylian’s repeated successes went on had not gone unnoticed by the knight.
No, No Link wouldn’t keep him waiting… that would have been cruel. With a sigh, Link closed the distance between himself and the Main Controls, setting the Shiekah slate on the tablet as he had so many times elsewhere. The bulb, large as a room and intricate with ancient energy, changed from orange to blue, and pulsed once… twice… three times as Vah Medoh was not returned to control of the Champions.
“Well I’ll be plucked,” Revali’s echoic, ethereal voice said from behind him, “You defeated him, eh?” Link cut his eyes over his shoulder and turned around, braced for a potentially long and self absorbed speech. There Revali stood, incorporeal as both Daruk and Mipha had been, green spirit fire dancing around him where he had just landed. Spreading his wings wide, Revali seemed reserved… for Revali. “Who would have thought?”
Looking at each other a long moment, Link felt… differently than he had before. Mipha and Daruk had been his friends, people he cared a great deal for. Revali and he had not been friend, and even actively disliked one another a century ago. And yet, there was still a sadness in Link’s heart, seeing the Rito Champion’s spirit.
Noting that the archer dropped his gaze and looked away before he spoke, the Rito’s next words were surprising to the hylian. “Well done.”
But Revali continued, and the moment was over. “I suppose I should thank you now that my spirit is free. This returns Medoh to its rightful owner.” With a grand gesture to the sky of one wing, Revali straightened, clearly meaning himself. “Hmph,” he added with a callous expression. “Don’t preen yourself just for doing our job.”
Link pressed his lips together and raised one eyebrow. “Oh yes. We could never have that from any Champion,” he mumbled sardonically. If Revali heard, he didn’t show it.
“I do suppose you’ve proven your value as a warrior. A warrior worthy of my unique ability. The sacred skill that I have dubbed Revali’s Gale!” Despite the posing and flapping of wings, Link forgave the Champion’s drama in the face of the nicest thing  Revali had ever said about or to him.
With yet another set of dramatic movements, Revali’s spirit summoned and sent an orb of green spirit energy hurtling at Link, and as it entered him body, a familiar, strong whirlwind kicked up, lifting Link from his feet and tossing him into the air quite unexpectedly. With a flip and twist, Link landed without injury on one knee, and looked back up to the Rito… in gratitude.
“It’s now time to move on and start making preparations for Medoh’s strike on Ganon. But,” Rivalli gave a small smirk, “Only if you think you’ll still need my help while fighting inside Hyrule Castle.” It wasn’t an apology, but even a small admission that he’d been wrong so long ago was enough to inspire forgiveness entirely in Link’s heart. Revali quickly ruined the moment again by added, “Feel free to thank me now.”
Rolling his eyes, Link noticed the now familiar gold light that meant his time on the Divine Beast was over, and was shocked to hear Revali say, “Or.. .nevermind. Just go. Your job is far from finished you know.” The Rito Champion was glancing at him sidelong. Finally turning away and lifting his beak to the sun, Link was fading away already when he heard the final words of his old self appointed rival.
“The Princess has been waiting an awful long time.” Revali’s Flap - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=doMVZikgnNE Freeing Vah Medoh - https://youtu.be/uxP8BqemAvc?t=1413
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quotespicture · 6 years ago
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https://quoteswithpicture.com/the-handmaiden-2016-movie-review/
The Handmaiden (2016) Movie Review
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By Savannah Gisleson (Los Angeles)
  For all the visual opulence in Park Chan-wook’s The Handmaiden, a point is to be made through it.
The full frames mimic that of an oil-painting: soft, warm, sumptuous. However, if the film were to be an old portrait the pink rose petal lips of the protagonists simmer – smiling, letting their secrets barely breach the surface. However, once their quiet simmers boil over, their transgressions and secrets explode through the canvas, slapping the viewer in the face. This is The Handmaiden’s modus operandi. Park winks at the audience, as if to let us in on a secret, to let us know something is coming, that something big is going to happen. And once it comes, nothing is shied away from – everything that was once in the shadows bursts into the light.
There is nothing subtle about Park’s direction in this way. We, as the audience expect something to happen, and then it does. What draws us in is the how, the why, and especially the what. Many say the collective imagination is often more grand or disturbing than what a director could show or portray – I reject this in the case of Park and The Handmaiden.
The plot is a complex one, inspired by Sarah Waters’ 2002 novel, The Fingersmith, a Victorian story in which a handmaiden falls for her mistress. Park and co-writer Chung Seo-kyung take the basis of the story and set it in 1930’s Korea during the Japanese occupation, politicizing the already twisted love story. Two women already from different classes, different countries, and different ethnicities find each other in a Victorian home, each trying to dupe the other.
Lady Hideko, played by a wonderful Kim Min-hee, is the trapped, cynical, and frigid Japanese lady who has been trained by her Uncle Kouzuki (Cho Jin-woong) to read classic erotica to audiences so that he might sell fakes of the books and maintain the fortune of Hideko’s family – alongside a plan to marry his her. This all unravels once “Count” Fujiwara hatches a plan to marry Hideko, inherit her fortune, and then lock her in a madhouse. He enlists a famed pickpockets daughter Sook-Hee (Kim Tae-ri), to push Hideko into his arms so that all works out to plan – which of course it does not.
The Handmaiden involves love, lies, and deception amongst all four of these characters, and is split into three pieces to fully explore all. The audience initially follows Sook-Hee from the slums of Korea to the lavish and foreboding home of Lady Hideko and Kouzuki, coming to understand her developing lust and love her new mistress until the last moment the two see each other. Then we jump back in time for Lady Hideko’s perspective on the romance, learning that things were not what they seemed.
Initially, nothing is what it seems in this film. Appearances are deceiving. We see this most with Lady Hideko – she goes through multiple transformations throughout the film, and yet she changes very little. It is about how she is presented to the audience by Park. First naïve and stupid, then cool and frigid, then evil and conniving, then finally a hero. It is not only the characters and plot that peel backwards, revealing what truly lays underneath, the visuals match this trend.
The deep colors of wood, burgundy, and jade of the home in which the majority of the film takes place in are luscious. Grand oil portraits and cherry blossom trees litter the grounds, interiors and exteriors of the home. The library is full of well-loved valuable books. Expensive tapestries and curtains hang from the walls. The entire home is grand and beautiful – however it is a lie. It acts as a cage, trapping Hideko amongst the finery. The library is a lie – all of the expensive and rare books are fakes. The cherry blossom tree is a lie – it is not a symbol of hope and Hideko’s home of Japan – it is the tree her aunt hung herself from. The cherry blossom is a sign of death and despair. Above all else the gilded cage that Hideko sits in is a disguise – it sits upon a basement that houses the ugliest terrors known to man. The basement is what makes people go mad. This is alluded to from the moment Sook-Hee first arrives at the house. The rolling blackouts that the head maid explain to her are the first indications of evil within the house. The light does not shine there permanently. The evil is not expressed fully until later but Park hints at its presence from the beginning.
It’s Park’s attention to these details that allows a good script to transcend to a poetic masterpiece. There are symbols in every scene, every set, every character – symbols that also double down as hints.
This is not to say that The Handmaiden is all doom and gloom. It is far from it. One of the most striking things about the film is its use of comedy in the darkest moments of the film. In one instance, when Hideko attempts suicide vis-à-vis the same cherry blossom method of her aunt, and Sook-Hee saves her at the last moment, both act very cartoonish. They make funny faces, and even use physical comedy to pretend that Sook-Hee forgot about the fact that Hideko is hanging from her neck, and drops her for a moment. This is true in the more romantic scenes as well – in their first consummation of love, Sook-Hee sees Hideko’s bare nipple and exclaims, “it’s so cute!” in a baby voice. She then goes on to call Hideko’s nether regions “s-s-s-spellbindingly beautiful!” The entire love-making session is explicit and calls to mind the humor in real and true sex, by calling attention to the comedy of it.
Park gives the two women the depth needed to laugh together in the face of monsters, death, and rape.
Not to say that Park sticks solely to reality – he does in regards to his characters, but many elements of the film lay far outside the realistic with no explanation as to why or how. In these moments Park only gives us the what.
Once all comes to light, all bets are off. At no point does the sexual demonstrations that Lady Hideko performs with a wooden dummy seem unlikely. Nor does the sexual act with the bells – the bells of freedom- that the girls perform in the last moments of the film seem far-fetched. When we finally see what lurks at the depths of the basement it comes as a surprise, sure, but we do not doubt Park at this point. The traditional Japanese sexual torture device, that is a giant squid, fits in this world. As do the blue carbon monoxide cigarettes that cause instant death. We buy this heightened and poetic reality, regardless of how dark or fucked up it gets.
And we do not question Park – this director is so self-assured in the worlds and stories he creates that the audience never doubts him.
In The Handmaiden Park weaves together black comedy, melodrama, and fantasy together with sexual sadism, Korean history, and lesbianism to create an intricately textured silk cloth. Lies and truth transcend reality, giving us something else, something grand.
Rating: 5/5
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demonwriterx · 8 years ago
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“Singing like us” (Martin and Martha) zootopia drabble
“Singing like us” 
It was her big day. Martha White had been preparing for an opportunity to sing on a stage for years, and tonight she finally got her wish. By standing in for a sick singer, who got mange, meant she will be filling in for months. Martha sat in front of a large vanity mirror in her new changing room, surrounded by red furniture and beautiful costumes. She found a silver dress that sparkled and a cap with golden beads that made her look like a goddess. With a dash of red lipstick, she was ready to catch the audience eyes but only if she overcomes her crippling stage fright. She kept shaking in her seat in front of the mirror, anticipating the time when they will call for her. She was so nervous, she was afraid of fainting before she even reaches the stage stairs.
She jumped when she heard a knock.
“C-come in!” she called out, immediately getting up, she didn't want to disappoint her boss who gave her this opportunity. He was wary at first because she was so timid, but she begged for a chance. Now, she was wondering if she was ready for it.
A black muzzle appeared, and she immediately felt calmer when she saw Martin, wearing his dark trench coat and suit. Having just finished a case in the ZPD, he wanted to pay her a visit, when she called him to tell him the news.
He tossed his hat aside on a couch in her room, giving her a wolfish grin.
“Look at you.” He growled happily, circling her. “you're a star already.”
Martha nervously chuckled and blushed. “T-Thank you, I thought the audience might like me more if I came out like this.”
“I certainly do,” Martin replied. “Must be working, oh wait...you always had.” He grabbed her paw, making her look up at him in surprise. His eyes narrowed in concern. “Are you nervous?”
She sighed heavily and touched her head. “I-I am so afraid, Martin.” She admitted, pulling away from him and collapsing onto the couch, resting her head on at armrest. Martin bit the inside of his cheek and slowly sat down beside her.
“When Helga got sick, and Franky wanted a stand in, I was the first to raise my paw. Oh!” She shook her head in disbelief. “I begged him to give me this one night, I even bet my job on it! But now-I feel so sick, I can't stop shaking, it's actually making my body ache, and my head won't stop pounding.”
Martin grabbed her shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “Calm down, calm down, Cottontail.” He crooned. He had never seen her as a nervous wreck before. He wondered if that was the life of a diva, which meant she was born for the job. His ears went up when he had an idea.
He pressed his muzzle next to her ears, whispering to her gently.
“You feel sick with anticipation, Martha.” He began. “You're shaking because you're excited to see the lights on you, and taking the attention of every mammal in the room.” Martha’s head slowly lifted up. “And your head is pounding because of the applause you hear in that little head of yours because you know you are going to be great!” He pulled away when she saw her ears went up. She sat up in surprise.
“I never...thought of it that way.” She murmured, followed by a smile. “Thank you, Martin, you always know what to say.”
He chuckled when he leaned back against the couch. He opened his coat and took out a cigar out of his breast pocket. “Anything for you Cottontail.” He replied as he patted down his chest, trying to find his lighter.
He stopped when he felt Martha’s paw on his chest as she leaned against him, holding a spare lighter. Martin’s ears went down he saw her large ruby eyes staring right at him.
“You should really stop smoking, I heard it's not good for you.” She cooed, flipping the switch. “I read an article that it can make you sick, darling.” He puffed slightly as his eyes scrolled down to her freshly painted ruby lips. She ran her paw across his suit and brushed against it. “All this ash is also dirtying your clothes, Marty, I have an excellent detergent at home perhaps I can do something about that.” She gave him a smile, making him blush and suddenly forget to breathe out the smoke. He lurched forward and let out a set of coughs, which sounded more like he was hacking. Martha’s ears went up in alarm.
“Martin! Are you alright?” She asked patting his back as if he was a child choking. Martin got up and put out the cigar against an ashtray that was set on her vanity.
He coughed again. “I-I'm fine! I just...need some water!” To escape from the embarrassment, he went to the door. “I-I'll see you on stage!”
He slammed the door behind him, leaving Martha alone in confusion.
He shoved his face against the tabletop in front of his friend, Ben, a young bachelor lion who is his partner on the force. Ben ran his finger around the ring of his class cup.
“What happened?” His friend asked with a smirk.
Martin sighed and rested his chin on the table. “I forgot to exhaled when I was smoking in Martha’s room.”
His friend laughed loudly as he slammed his massive paw on the table. Martin gave him a glare when he shook the table. “And you coughed and spit all over her like some pup!”
Martin felt his face heat up. He sunk into his seat and shook his head. “Ugh, she probably thinks I'm some sort of fake-out, I'm clutched for sure.”
“Ey, let's cool it down,” Ben said pouring him a drink of bourbon. Martin chugged it down to try to forget about his situation. “So you're a bit of a goof, but you're still a cool cat. That classy chassie of yours probably still thinks of you as a hip fox.”
Martin still wasn't sure of that and frowned. “We have just started dating for a week, but...with all of the hate against...you know-.” He said keeping his voice down, his friend leaned over from the hard topic. In Zootopia, inter-species relationships are unheard of and are seen as taboo, any animals caught in such an affair is persecuted, sometimes even violently.
“Hey, I gotcha.” His friend, Ben replied in a whisper. Martin nodded.
“I wanted to take her to one of those passion pits to see a movie. No one would suspect a thing, it's dark, and my windows are tinted, so I thought it will give us the chance to relax with each other, but now, I'm too much of a punk to ask her after what had happened.”  
He took another gulp of his drink and leaned against the palm of his paw, as he propped his elbow up on the table. The Tundra Club was filled to the brim, and the Bar had its counter full of drinks and animals trying to look for a good time with music and beautiful baristas. One barista, noticing Martin’s empty glass, strolled by. Martin barely looked up at the snow colored arctic fox dressed in gold, colorful flapper outfit, which actually hurt his eyes. He squinted slightly when he saw her wink at him almost flirtatiously.
“Enjoying the club so far, gentle males?” She asked as she balanced a silver tray on her paw as she poured out of a bottle with the other.
“Yeah, it's a gas!” Ben replied with a chuckle when Martin hummed a response. “Thanks, doll.”
“When is uh, Martha gonna sing?” Martin asked. The fox flicked her tail to the side and blinked at him.
“Who?” She asked in almost a ditzy, high shrill voice.
“Martha White,” Martin said in a hard tone, which suddenly made her remember.
“Oh, the little bunny...maybe in ten minutes, darling, but I wouldn’t worry about her. She is just a barista fillin’ in for a sick singer, she’s nothing worth seeing.” Martin gripped on his drink in annoyance, which made Ben, clear his throat nervously and push his drink away. The arctic fox brushed her cheek when she smiled at Martin. “I mean, I heard her sing her little heart out in the dressing room and between you me-” She leaned down to him which made Martin glare at her. “She’s as mediocre as a pup in the choir.”
Martin tilted his head back, and with a finger, he knocked his glass over, accidently (but actually, intentionally) spilling his drink on the barista. She gave out a shout when her skirt got drenched in liquor and whirled at Martin in disbelief. He gave out an audible gasp before giving her a smirk.
“Sorry, doll.” He wiggled his fingers at her. “Butterfingers, you know I get this way when I have too much to drink. Better send the bottle back.”
The Fox gritted her teeth at him and huffed when she took the two glasses away and stomped off. Ben let out a whistle and crossed his arms at him.
“That was a little harsh,” Ben said making Martin snort at him. “Now what I'm I going to drink? Club Soda?”
“Please, that little tramp never heard my Martha sing, she sings like an angel.” He said in a “matter a factly” tone. “She was probably jealous of her.”
“Well simmer down, or else you might get kicked out of this place before you could hear Martha sing.”
The lights suddenly went dimmed and a spotlight shined on the large stage. Martin grinned widely.
“Looks like we didn't need to wait long.” He and Ben looked on with anticipation as they heard the soft music of the piano play. His ears went up when he saw Martha in her brilliant and shining dress capture every animal’s attention. Their hushed and impressed whispers silenced when she began to sing to the crowd, her favorite song. Martin recognized it as the song “I wanna be loved” by the Dinah Washington. Her voice filled the club with her amplified sweet voice, in perfect harmony.
I wanna be loved with inspiration I wanna be loved starting tonight Instead of merely holding conversation Hold me tight
The room was immediately infatuated by her siren voice, even Martin was swooning at the sound of her beautiful voice filling his body. He sighed in contentment as he closed his eyes.
I wanna be loved with inspiration I wanna be loved starting tonight Instead of merely holding conversation Hold me tight I wanna be kissed until I tingle I wanna be kissed starting tonight Embrace me till our heartbeats intermingle Wrong or right
He didn't even notice she finished until he heard the thunderous applause. His eyes snapped open from his daze and stood up, clapping his paws. Before he knew it, Martha was receiving a standing ovation from every animal in the room. He could see her smiling at the crowd when they began to shower her with roses. She gave them a curtsy, even blowing a shy kiss to the crowd before bowing out to retreat into her dressing room. Martin immediately took his leave and rushed towards the back of the club and back in front of her dressing room door.
He was about to knock before he heard a voice inside, talking to Martha. He recognized the small, and annoying little voice as the owner of the Club, Franky, a Weasel.
“You did great out there kid! Tell you what, I am now hiring you to perform three nights a week!” He exclaimed.
“Really?!” Martin heard from Martha. “Oh thank you, Franky!”
“Don't get sentimental, kid. Just remember, mess up, and you are outta here.”
“I won't let you down, Franky!” Martha replied with confidence.
“Alright, I'm stickin’ my neck out for you-”
Martin heard the door click, which made him duck behind a set of curtains to avoid being seen by the boss. Once he saw Franky leave, he went inside the room, closing the door behind him. Martha was gushing at the mirror, and when she saw him, she immediately went to her feet and hugged him.
“Marty! Did you see me? Oh, I was amazing! Everyone loved me!” She exclaimed, making his wince when she squeezed him tightly against her.
“Of course I did, I told you didn't I?”
She let go of him and jumped in joy. “Oh, I'm going to be a singer, Marty!” She sighed softly and wrapped her arms around his torso again. “And it's all thanks to you.”
Martin chuckled and stroked her ears down. “Y-you know, I was wondering, to celebrate…” he scratched the back of his head when Martha tilted her head at him. “That we can go...to the cinema, a drive in, that just opened up tonight.”
Her ears went up. “A picture show! How exciting, yes I would love to!” She grabbed his paw and gave him a quick kiss on his knuckle before grabbing her casual clothes from off a rack of costumes. “Give me a moment to change!”
“Okay.”
Martha glanced back and saw Martin still standing in the room, she blushed slightly and motioned her paw at him.
She giggled softly. “Wait outside, Marty.”
Martin grinned. “Are you sure you want me to?”
She gasped and laughed slightly when she pushed him to the door. “I am serious!”
“Okay, okay! I'll wait outside!” He laughed when he went out the door. He closed the door and leaned against it. He closed his eyes and began humming her song to himself, as he imagined her singing up on stage.
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sariasprincy · 8 years ago
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Where it Happened ii - ItaSaku - Grey’s Anatomy AU cont.
Oh no...it has begun. The muse won’t stop!
(Important note: This was originally called ‘Heartbeat’ - changed to ‘Where it Happened’. Inspired by Hamilton’s ‘The Room Where it Happens’)
Part i    Part ii (here)    Part iii
Where it Happened part ii
A soft sigh passed between Sakura’s lips as she roused from her sleep. She woke slowly and a bit confused as she became aware that neither her alarm nor her pager had pulled her from her rest. It was then that she realized she was not alone in the small bed in the hospital on-call room and with groggy movements, she rolled over until she could peer through the darkness at the figure next to her.
It was Uzumaki Naruto. He was on his back on top of the covers with his hands draped across his stomach as he stared absently at the ceiling. Through the darkness, she could see he was dressed in his scrubs, his shoes still on as he traced the shadows on the wall, a dejected look on his face.
“Hey,” she murmured sleepily. She was unperturbed at finding the male in bed with her; it was something Naruto had been doing since they had been in medical school together when he was upset or just needed silent company. “Rough night?”
In the quiet, she heard him take a deep breath but his bright blue gaze never wavered from the unlit overhead light. “Yeah,” he murmured after a moment. “My baby died this morning.”
A frown fell across her face at the news of the little patient he had been working to save every day for nearly two weeks since it had been born. She knew Naruto was a great pediatric surgeon, but even she had been doubtful of the infant’s survival when he had first described its condition to her. Nevertheless, she pulled her arm out from under the covers and laid it over his own. They were doctors, they would move on, but for now she would offer him comfort until the next case came along.
“Is your shift over?” she asked after a moment.
He huffed humorlessly. “My shift ended yesterday. I’m supposed to be in surgery in a couple of hours.” With her hand on his chest, she didn’t miss the quiet yawn at the end of his sentence. “What about you?”
“Mm…what time is it?”
“Quarter to six.”
Rolling over onto her back, Sakura stretched before she pushed herself up and wiped at the mascara that was sure to be smudged under her eyes. “I’m helping cover the pit this morning. Need to be there soon.”
“Sounds like fun,” he murmured insincerely. “Tell ‘Kashi I say hi.”
Sakura smiled fondly at the male before she stood from the bed and reached for her scrub top. She pulled it on over her undershirt before she gazed back at her longtime friend again. His eyes had slipped closed and she knew he was close to falling asleep with his slow, steady breathes. Quietly she pulled on her athletic shoes and murmured a soft ‘good night’ before she stepped out of the room, ensuring the door closed soundlessly behind her.
The hospital was already bustling with activity, even given the early morning hour. Nurses were updating attendings while residents and interns received their orders for the day. Sakura easily skirted around them, stopping in the attending’s changing room to properly fix her makeup before she headed down towards the pit.
As always, she made a quick stop in front of the surgical board to see which surgeries were lined up for the day. She was working on pulling her hair up into a secure bun as she read when she heard a familiar voice: “-well let’s just say I wouldn’t say I wouldn’t rush out of an on-call room if he came in.”
With a smile forming on her face, Sakura turned to find Ino and Tenten, an attending in Orthopedics, leaning against a nurses’ station as they gazed down the hall. Silently she walked up behind them and leaned over Ino’s shoulder to see who it was that had become the topic if their obviously inappropriate conversation. To her disappointment, she found their gazes were locked on none other than Itachi himself.
He was standing at the other end of the hall, speaking to a third-year resident. Even from this distance, Sakura could see the poor woman’s nervousness as she accepted his orders and she was unable to hide her audible scoff, “Please don’t tell me you two have the hots for him too.”
The pair jumped and whipped around only to relax as they recognized her. “Dammit, Sakura,” Ino complained. She brushed her long, blonde ponytail back over her shoulder before she crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter. “Where the hell did you come from? And what does it matter if we have the hots for him? Half the women in this hospital do.”
Sakura just rolled her eyes, but there was a smile playing about her lips. “That’s because half the women in this hospital are unattached and haven’t yet had the pleasure of working with him. He may be hot, but his arrogance his definitely worse than his reputation precedes.”
Ino merely shrugged. “Maybe he’s one of those cool-and-arrogant on the streets, hot-and-steamy in the sheets types.”
Tenten giggled as Sakura fought back her smile. Her best friend was such a flirt it was to the point of ridiculousness. “Didn’t you have a date or something last night?”
Her question forced an exaggerated sigh from the gorgeous woman as Tenten attempted to bite back her laugh, “Apparently, he was a high school dropout.”
“What!”
“It’s not the dropout part I had a problem with,” Ino said, holding up her hands defensively. “I get it; shit happens. Hell, I dropped out of high school for a year before going back. But it’s the fact that he dropped out, never went back and then started his own business, which apparently went bankrupt like five years ago – something he conveniently forgot to mention – and is now living at home.” She crossed her arms over her chest with an agitated sigh. “He actually asked if I wanted to get a drink at his place. I would rather stitch my own wound with a rust needle.”
Sakura couldn’t help but laugh at the woman’s misfortune, but whatever response she was about to make was left unsaid as the very resident that had been speaking to Itachi suddenly rushed past. The three women perked up and watched as she hurriedly disappeared down the hall before they glanced at each other.
“I wonder what that was about?” Tenten murmured.
Sakura glanced to where she had last seen Itachi to find him reading a chart nonchalantly. There was a set to his shoulders and a way in which he held himself that made her roll her eyes. She got the impression he was intimidating the residents just to mark his territory, but she turned her attention away as he turned and disappeared down the opposite end of the hall. “She just finished talking to Sir Glares-alot. What do you think it was about?”
Both Tenten and Ino snorted at the nickname before the older woman glanced at her watch. “Well I have to go make sure my resident is prepping my patient for surgery. I’ll see you later.”
They murmured a farewell to Tenten and watched her leave before Sakura turned back to her blonde friend. She was looking at her expectantly. “What?” Sakura asked.
Ino merely shrugged. “You seem rather intolerant of your new boss. Any particular reason?”
Her blue eyes were piercing, and Sakura quickly shot her a look. “I know what you’re thinking, and no, he doesn’t remind me of Gaara. I just don’t like arrogant men who strut around here like they own the damn place.”
“I’m just saying it seems like you judged him quicker than you normally would,” she said, holding up her hands. “It’s possible you’re right and he is just a gorgeous bastard, but it’s also possible there’s more to him than what we’ve seen. Not everyone is like how Gaara was.”
Sakura frowned as her friend walked away, her blonde hair swaying behind her. She tried not to let their conversation ruin her mood, but the reminder of the redheaded Neurosurgeon she had once shared a bed with almost a year ago had left a bad taste in her mouth and she found herself glaring as she turned and made her way towards the pit. Her time spent with Gaara was not a fond memory and annoyance simmered in her chest that Ino had brought up the topic when her best friend knew she hated thinking of the man. By the time she walked into the ER, she was almost relieved to find doctors and nurses rushing about wildly as they tended to what appeared to be half a dozen traumas.
“Haruno, I need you!”
She glanced towards Hatake Kakashi, their Head of Trauma, as he helped push a patient towards a trauma room. Immediately she followed him as she finished tying on her gown. “What do we got?” she asked as she snapped on her gloves.
“A twenty-three-year-old male was hit by a bus. Massive injuries to his chest and abdomen,” Kakashi said as they got the man settled and began cutting the rest of his clothes away. “It’s going to be a long one.”
That, she was grateful for. ## Itachi navigated the long corridors of the surgical ward in silence. There were a handful of nurses and residents doing evening rounds, but none disturbed him as he walked, his attention focused on the chart in his hand. In fact, many of them seemed to scurry out of his path as he approached, but he didn’t pay them any mind as he continued on. He had surgery in an hour and there was another case he was needed to consult on before he could begin.
Rounding the corner, he ventured down the series of halls that would take him to the elevator that would lead him directly to Emergency Room. He rounded a nurses’ station and was about pass the surgical board when movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Slowing, he glanced up from his chart only to draw to a complete halt when he saw that the slot his surgery had been written in only hours before was not only empty, but was now being written in with an entirely different surgery. He recognized the person as the head of Trauma immediately.
“Hatake, I have a surgery scheduled in that OR in an hour.”
The silver-haired male stopped writing to glance over his shoulder at him. “The head nurse took it off. I had assumed it was free to use?”
“The head nurse?” he asked. His tone was sharp, betraying his annoyance. “Who gave them the authority? Where are they?”
Kakashi said nothing. He merely nodded toward the nurses’ station and Itachi followed his gaze until he spotted a woman a few years his junior standing behind the desk. She was sorting through paperwork but looked up expectantly upon his approach. “Doctor Uchiha, right?”
He tried not to glare at the woman. “I had surgery scheduled in OR 3 in an hour. Why was it removed from the board?”
Her brow arched in surprise. “Billing said they were going to call you. They said we had to cancel the surgery due to your patient’s insurance being revoked.”
“Revoked?” he repeated, his anger suddenly gone.
Immediate dread filled him as he recalled his patient’s mother telling them that their insurance had been giving them trouble lately. He had done his best to push the surgery forward as quickly as possible to get the procedure done before the family had to choose between either being stuck in unfathomable debt for the rest of their life or forced to deny their child the lifesaving surgery he needed. He could only guess what they had been pressed to do.
“Dammit,” Itachi cursed.
Without asking, he dropped the chart he had been reading onto the nurses’ station before he returned down the halls he had just come. He rushed towards the center elevator banks and waited impatiently for the lift to arrive before he hurriedly made his way up to the pediatric ward.
Upon arriving at his patient’s room, he found the young child sitting in bed, dressed and watching his mother as she packed up their personal belongings. She looked so dejected he could physically feel the emotion in the room.
“I just heard what happened.”
The woman stopped her packing and looked up at him. She pursed her lips to hide their waver before she took a deep breath. “We all saw this coming. The insurance has been giving us trouble ever since…” she trailed off as her voice cracked slightly. “Ever since Haru’s father got injured at work. We thought we could just pay for the surgery ourselves, but the hospital is telling us that our income is too low to cover even the lowest monthly payment plans.”
She glanced at her son and Itachi followed her gaze to see the young boy had taken to playing with one of his many stuffed toys. He was far too young to understand their conversation or even comprehend the current situation, and against his better judgment Itachi felt his heart go out to the family. He knew not to get his emotions involved, but he knew this family would not have flown out to this hospital if it hadn’t been for him. He had encouraged them to come see him after he had moved his employment across the country and he knew he could not just allow them to get on an expensive flight without helping their son first. It was amazing he had survived the journey there at all.
“We may have one other option,” Itachi finally said.
The young mother gazed up at him with timid hope shining in her eyes. “There is?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “However, it may take me some time to get the paperwork together. Would you mind waiting just a little longer?”
“The nurse already said she was bringing us our discharge papers.”
“Do not sign them. If anyone tries to discharge you, have them page me,” he told her. “I will return as soon as I can.”
A frown settled upon the woman’s face, but eventually she nodded, her hands going slack on the backpack she had been filling. Once he was sure they would stay, Itachi backed out of the room, sliding the door closed behind him, before he took off deeper into the heart of the hospital. He had been to the Chief of Surgery's office only a handful of times previously, but he recalled the fastest route and made his way there with hurried steps. He had a plan, but he would need permission first and there was only one answer that would satisfy him.
The moment he was outside the Chief's office, he knocked twice before he pushed the door open. "I apologize for interrupting, Chief, but I must speak with you."
Behind her desk, Senju Tsunade looked up, her hazel eyes peering at him over the top of her glasses. She arched a single brow at him, the simple gesture displaying her authority more than any words possibly could. "Well by all means, come on in." He didn't miss the obvious tone of sarcasm in her voice. “This better be important, Uchiha.”
“It is,” he nodded.
"I guess we should finish our conversation later then."
Unaware there was another person in the room, Itachi glanced into the corner that had previously been out of his peripheral. To his surprise, he found none other than Sakura lounging almost casually on the small office couch. She wasn't glaring at him but he got the feeling she wanted nothing more than to tell him to get out of the damn room. However, she didn't voice her opinion as she slid her cool, emerald gaze off him and stood. She brushed out the wrinkles on her scrubs before she glanced at the Chief. "I'll come back later."
Tsunade nodded once before Sakura turned and headed towards the doorway. Itachi stepped aside to allow her room to leave and she slipped past him without a glance, their arms nearly brushing in the small entryway. He caught a faint trace of her shampoo and laundry detergent, but it quickly faded and he watched her leave until she disappeared down the hall before he closed the door.
Returning his attention back to the Chief, he approached her desk until he was standing a respectful distance before the older, blonde woman. "I want to perform a Pro Bono valve replacement."
As he expected, she sat back in her chair, an incredulous expression on her face. "That is a very expensive surgery. Why the hell would I approve that?"
Taking a deep breath, Itachi answered.  ## Sakura trailed her fingers lightly over the spines of the many books lining the bookshelf. She skimmed their titles quickly until she found the one she had been searching for and easily plucked the thick text from the shelf and flipped it open.
The research library was unsurprisingly empty given the time of night. Most interns and residents were too busy completing evening rounds to be in the room, leaving Sakura the freedom to read and the freedom to do so in peace. It was a form of relaxation for her – to be able to sit when she wasn’t busy with patients or surgeries; a chance for her to unwind after a busy shift, even if Ino usually poked fun at her for being such a nerd. She didn’t mind going out with her best friend to the bar after work – a lemon drop or three usually loosened her tired mind – but tonight, there had been an interesting case study plaguing her and she had been itching to know more.
For some time, she read in silence, but being an attending – and one with many friends within the hospital at that – she was hardly ever left alone for long. The newcomer was kind enough to let her finish reading her paragraph and once she reached the bottom, she looked up expectantly. Her brow arched curiously at finding Itachi standing at the end of the bookshelf she was leaning against, a patient but cool expression on his face.
“Uchiha.”
He nodded politely. “I wanted to apologize for interrupting your conversation with the Chief. I was unaware you were in the room.”
“It’s fine. It seemed like whatever you had to say was pretty important,” she said offhandedly. She closed her book slowly, her fingers marking her page. Then she fixed him with a stare. “But I know you didn’t come here just to apologize, so what can I do for you?”
The corner of his mouth twitched before he pushed off the bookshelf and approached her until they could speak more privately. With his height, she was forced to crane her neck to meet his eyes. They were dark and intense, and she tried to ignore the way her skin warmed under his attention. He was an ass, but he was still a handsome ass.
“You are right. I have something to ask of you,” he admitted. “I am performing a Pro Bono valve replacement on a five-year-old and I was hoping you could assist me.”
Sakura’s eyes widened in surprise. She shifted the book in her hands until her arms were crossed over her chest as she adjusted against the bookcase to fully face him. “Pro Bono on a valve replacement? And the Chief actually cleared it?”
Itachi nodded. “She did.”
She huffed in quiet disbelief. “The Chief isn’t really known for her generosity around here. You must have put up quite a fight to get her to say yes.”
Surprisingly, Itachi just leaned back against the shelves, his arms crossed loosely and his expression vacant of the haughty look she had come to associate with him. “It is a case worth fighting for.”
His words made her stubbornness fade some, but she held her ground as she cocked her head at him. “Even still, a valve replacement is a four-hour surgery, even longer if there are complications. You want me to assist you free of charge?”
She could see she was testing his patience, but he surprised her further by remaining courteous as met her gaze evenly. “I know you do not care for me very much and I respect that you have remained professional about it, but this case is important and I would appreciate it if you did me this favor.”
His honesty took her aback. She had been expecting him to pressure her or at the very least fix her with that simple but commanding look he had been walking around with for weeks now; but instead she found herself standing across from the very influential man, his presence unimposing and the usual arrogance he displayed absent. It made her wonder if this case was important to him.
Relaxing her stance, Sakura lowered her crossed arms to hold her book across her stomach as she pursed her lips, her obstinacy slowly dissolving. She hadn’t thought this conversation with the man she had come to consider as proud and egotistical to be so amiable, and she sighed to herself as she wondered if Ino had been right. Perhaps she had formed her opinion of him too quickly; she had been critical of his every move ever since their first encounter.
“Shit,” she murmured to herself. She was the one being the ass this time.
After a moment, she met his gaze again, this time her hostility and sarcasm gone. “I don’t dislike you,” she finally said. “I just haven’t found a reason yet to like you. But this…this just might sway me. What time?”
He blinked in surprise. “You will assist?”
She shrugged nonchalantly but there was a smile playing about her lips. “I was never going to say no. I have a thing for sick kids. Can’t ever turn away.”
He seemed almost flabbergasted at her answer, but then he straightened from the bookcase as a soft huff of amusement escaped him. “I will schedule an OR for ten then.”
“I’ll be there.”
He nodded and made to leave only to pause as he turned back to her, his expression more open than she had seen before. “Thank you, Haruno.”
She couldn’t bite back the small smile on her face. “You’re welcome, Uchiha.”
And like it had never disappeared, the confident tilt of his chin returned as he cocked a brow at her. “Actually, I prefer Sir Glares-alot, if you do not mind.”
Sakura froze. Her eyes widened as she stared at him and wondered how he had learned of the nickname she had given him only earlier that morning, but that thought quickly vanished as she anticipated the reprimand that was sure to come. However, it never did and she stood unsure of what to say or do as a barely noticeable smirk crossed his face. “I look forward to our surgery.”
Then he disappeared around the bookshelf, leaving her to her scrabbling thoughts amongst the vast rows of medical books. Her heart was still hammering against her ribcage as she wondered if she should apologize or pretend the whole thing never happened. He had to have known she hadn’t poked fun of him benevolently, but the fact that he hadn’t immediately benched her did calm her some.
However, it was that most peculiar look on his face that made her not immediately return to her book as she stared at where he had disappeared as a most confusing thought fell upon her. Had he just teased her? She didn’t know but she chose not to think on it as she took a deep breath and opened her medical text once more.
She was in for a very long surgery.
to be continued...
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whattheschmuck · 8 years ago
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Intellectual property has been stolen from me.
Not just me, this was stolen from @darktonic​ too--seemingly with the intention of posting its content in personal works given the context of the situation. I really didn’t want to have to actually call out the person I’ve been having problems with and potentially identify them but this is something I can’t ignore. Before I continue, I’m going to objectively give context for the situation and explain what happened and also clarify that the issues are only between me and [person]. So, here goes...
About a week ago I had a fight with a now-former friend and collaborator. Now, this person has been in a pretty shit position so I, doing what I felt was right without being asked to because that’s just the type of person I legitimately want to be, decided to try to be there to help said person because I did care and I did want to help. This isn’t the reason why I was so livid with the individual in question but it is important and it is related. Let me be clear, the way this entire situation started wasn’t so bad. It was enough to piss me off (which is very difficult to do, might I add) but it wasn’t something that I’d hold a grudge over. It’s what happened afterwards that made it bad. It all goes like this: in the past I’ve already had some quarrels with [person], and the thing in this instance in particular was an issue that has come up several times in the past. And every single time it has come up I felt like it was very clear that I was bothered by it.
I was excited because I met a pretty awesome girl on a dating app (Her) and was expressing that. As some of you may realize, if you live in/go to school in a conservative area of a conservative state like I do, a lot of LGBT people try to fly under the radar (myself included for a time) for their own safety...thus making it really difficult for me to find a girlfriend the “organic” way. So Her is more than just a last resort, it is the only safe way that I currently know of to find a girlfriend. [Person] knows this.
Despite that fact that [person] knew this, they once again made me feel kinda bad for using “lame” dating apps because I wasn’t meeting people “organically.” Given the fact that I have had this debate several times prior to this, I became irritated and reminded them that I have been punched in the face at school for being gay. For being gay. So yes, I thought it was really insensitive to say that when [person] knew I was attacked. I also thought it was doubly insensitive given the fact that [person], who isn’t a U.S. citizen, knew what was happening with Trump and knew how anxious I was about the entire situation. Despite this, in response to “yeah, but you’ve never been punched in the face for being fucking gay,” [person] said “no I haven’t, but I have been for being white, for sticking up for someone, for no reason at all, etc. etc.”
I wasn’t insinuating in any way shape or form that this type of stuff only happens to gay people. But the point is that we get attacked for the same reasons and then some! I can’t walk up to random women and start flirting with them--the fact of the matter is that being gay is not as socially acceptable as being straight. Redneck guys will punch you in the face like they did to me. You will be sexually assaulted for being gay...like me. Yes. That happened. I managed to get away before it got really bad but that still freaks me out to this day. I said all of this in the conversation and then because I was so livid, I just said “fuck it, just forget it,” and left the chat to cool down. But not before being further angered by their response: “Don’t get sore at me over nothing, you brought it up like it only happens to gays or something. Jesus.”
So by this point, I’m completely pissed off and it normally takes me a few days to simmer down before I can have a calm discussion after the fact. But here’s the thing: they just kept going. And I kept getting more angry. First of all...
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1) I had confided in [person] about the issue a while ago because it had happened a while ago. It is not my problem if this was not deemed important enough to remember. 2) Since when was making a point equated with weaponization? What right-minded individual would want to weaponize sexual assault? I did not appreciate that insinuation, and I was still really livid at the time so I just didn’t respond because, again, I knew things would escalate if I did. So I’m already a bit stung by that on top of still being angry but I let it go to calm down instead. Then I got another message about 14 hours later:  “This is getting out of hand. What you're doing is >actual emotional abuse<, and I know you know how it affects me, because we've talked about it before. You're being cruel.”
Now tell me something, how is taking time to simmer down suddenly equated to emotional abuse?! I know I said I was going to be objective but what?! I was actually emotionally abused up until I left for college. I think I know what emotional abuse is, and I would never emotionally abuse an individual. Never. And after how much I cared and was there for [person]? That hurt. A lot. Because it basically told me I was an abusive POS and that my help apparently meant nothing. That despite the fact that I always drop everything to be there for anyone at anytime, I’m abusive and cruel? I made it very clear after that point that I was angry, that it took a lot to get me that pissed off, that I need time to simmer down, and then I told [person] to leave me alone until I could calm down.
They didn’t leave me alone. They continued messaging me. Then they essentially decided our friendship for me before I even had a chance to calm down by deleting/unfollowing me on all forms of social media. Then they’re still actively monitoring my social media despite not following me anymore, actively venting to a mutual friend over posts that I had literally just made, seeing every single post as being about them, and then they started to message me again after reading a post I made on here expressing how hurt and emotionally exhausted I was.
This was really befuddling to me considering they removed me from all social media and essentially sent the message to me that they didn’t want to be friends, and yet just because they randomly changed their mind I owed them a response after all of that? They also tried tactics like pretending to get Skype call notifications from me when I had very apparently not tried to call them just so they could get a response out of me. They tried again and again but after being as hurt as I was, I was to the point where I didn’t even want anything to do with them anymore. I was also deeply unnerved by how much they were messaging me and I was also unnerved by some other stuff that I know happened that I’m not going to discuss on here to be respectful. So, it got to the point where I was forced to block them.
So getting to the theft now with this context... [Person] collaborated on a fic with me and Dark in the past and they apparently wanted a part they wrote. I was obviously leery initially because it came across as very sketchy and seemed like another attempt to get my attention (why did they need to ask me for it? They could have asked the other collaborator). I didn’t know their intentions for writing material from a fic that is currently being rewritten. Ultimately, it was determined that the excerpt was indeed 100% theirs and we released that and nothing else--we weren’t going to give them access to all of the fic for obvious reasons. Anything that is collaborative is not any one person’s property and should not be used for personal submissions if other people have participated in it. I also want to clarify really quickly that we are not using any of [person]’s ideas in the fic rewrite because we have more integrity than that.
So fine, but now I’m finding out that they’re trying to claim that chapter 17 of the fic is basically entirely theirs too which it very much is not. Then I checked the Croft Manor e-mail to see that it had essentially been hijacked and the recovery e-mail changed. Then I saw that they stole a copy of the chapter in question for themselves--seemingly with the intent of using its content for their own submissions. I feel like I don’t need to tell you why that isn’t okay but in case I do, let me be very clear: just from looking at the doc’s detailed revision history I found that out of 7712 words in the chapter’s content, and based on criteria like who had the ideas behind content and stuff I wrote in the chapter alone/with [person], I own 3590 words. 47%. And I could probably claim more if I decided to look through my old writing notes. Just writing something doesn’t mean you automatically own the ideas/concepts behind the content.
So no, that chapter is not entirely theirs and it is plagiarism if they even try to post it. So that’s why I’m posting this. And that’s why I put images of the chapter in the beginning (with the slashed-through parts being the parts that I actually own to my knowledge so far). They do not own all of the ideas in there. The scars thing? That was inspired by a poem that I wrote. I own that idea (I forgot to slash out the content associated with it so my word total is actually probably closer to at or above 50% ownership). They do not own any of the past fanon referenced via character dialogue and if they try to reference that, they are plagiarizing a collectively collaborative work’s canon. In all reality, they only have a right to naked Salara woundcare and that. Is. It.
If they post anything else, they are thieves and they are plagiarizing my intellectual property as well as the intellectual property of others and gaining a readership off of mine and Dark’s fic. Yes, they worked on it but they are not entitled to anything. Just like how Dark and I wouldn’t be entitled to anything either. Because we only have a partial ownership of the fic. So I’m telling you now, if they publish this chapter in any way, shape, or form whether it be verbatim or including my writing or ideas they are thieves and deserve to be treated as such.
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