#we use hue to control like three rooms worth of lights so they all turned on when the wifi reset

[enby-catgirl]

i have like three fans going in my room at all times so i can’t really hear the weather but apparently it stormed bad enough for us to lose power because all the lights just turned back on and all my fans turning on woke me up

[amatchinwater]

Push it till it Breaks | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Once you realize you have feelings for your best friend, Eddie, you can't make yourself say the words out loud. Not even when you notice he has feelings for you too. So you tease the hell out of him in hopes it will make him snap. Probably shouldn't have done in in the middle of a Hellfire meeting. Well, you're certainly not complaining if it gets you Eddie.

Warnings: 18+, there's fluff if you squint, angst, explicit sexual content, spanking, hair pulling, fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v sex, unprotected sex (reader on pill), squirting, come as lube, Master kink (Eddie is the Dungeon Master, it makes sense), dom!Eddie, use of pet names, aftercare is offered but reader wants round 2 first, degradation (whore/slut), flashbacks, drug use,

Words: 6199

a/n: thank you @yourdollydreams for the request! I had a lot of fun with it! I tweaked it a tiny bit to rather teasing Eddie in a turning him on sense, she also tries to push his buttons to make him lose control. I hope that's okay! There is a scene with that, but it's not the whole premise because this ran away with me.

Requests are open, I'll take Steve and Steddie too! Send some, if you'd like! Masterlist

Not my gif!! Credit to creator!!

You’re not really sure when it happened, to be honest. There doesn’t seem like a set time that you really started to have feelings for your best friend. You can absolutely pinpoint when you realized you’d had feelings. But the realization came with a minor epiphany that they were far from a new development. Simply that your brain had caught up with your heart. Among other things. 

Eddie has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. You’ve lived in Forest Hills Trailer park, three lots down from him, ever since you were born. Wayne had gone to school with your dad and they both work at the plant together. So, most of your days were spent with wide brown eyes and heavy music. Over the years and the confusing puberty time period, you’d assumed he’d want to not be best friends with a girl anymore. 

Some archaic belief nagging at the back of your brain that you’d grow apart, that guys and girls can’t be friends. But that couldn’t have been farther off base if you’d tried. Nothing can trump the connection from years worth of playing on the same playground. Sharing lame jokes that make you both wheeze with laughter. Parental figures working nights, leaving the slightly older boy in charge of looking after you both. It’s a bond that you just can’t break. 

So yeah, somewhere along the lines, you fell for Eddie “the freak” Munson. It’s a little annoying. Not in the sense that you’re pissed it’s Eddie you want. You just wouldn’t have wasted your time kissing so many frogs in hopes of a prince if you knew that you could have Eddie. What’s annoying is you want to know when it happened. The idea of things creeping up on you doesn’t sit right. God, the day you realized, you acted like such an idiot too. 

---

“What are we watching tonight, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, sparking up a joint where he sits on the couch, shirtless, sweatpant clad legs spread. The light glow from the lamp in the living room paints Eddie in a soft, golden hue, enhancing his relaxed features. All you can do is watch as he lets the smoke spill out of his mouth before inhaling it through his nose. Your eyes fixate on the trail from his plump lips, licking your own. 

What the fuck is going on with you? 

Why are you staring at him like a creep?

Shaking yourself out of whatever the hell that was, your gaze snaps to the two boxes in your hands. “Um,” you swallow thickly, trying very hard to get your brain to read the words printed in front of you. “Stuck between The Shining and Carrie,” you fumble out. You’re about two seconds away from actually slapping yourself. 

You’ve never acted like this around Eddie before. You’ve seen him without his shirt on more times than you can count. Hell, you went with him to get both chest tattoos and the headless bat he has on his ribcage. The two of you have been friends long enough that you’ve both accidentally walked in on the other while changing, so the fact that his thin sweats do nothing in hiding what’s underneath shouldn’t be a surprise either. 

Laying an arm over the armrest, Eddie narrows his eyes to protect them as the smoke coils up from another drag. “So you just want to mentally fuck me tonight, got it.”

Warmth burns your cheeks at his words, freezing your frame still. The instinct to fire back that you wouldn’t fuck him singes your tongue. “I-” That’s not something all that weird to come out of Eddie’s mouth, nor your attempted rebuttal. So why in the hell did it send a shock down your spine like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on you? You’re not even high yet, so there goes that excuse. 

“I’m just kidding, babe,” he says, ashing the joint before leaning forward to hand it to you. “You know you can pick whatever you want,” Eddie says, your shaky hand taking the rolled paper from him. 

Inhaling deeply into your lungs, you hold your breath, hoping this will knock some sense into you. Or rather, knock enough out that you don’t have to think about what’s happening and why you’re being so fucking weird. “The Shining it is, then,” you say on the exhale. Putting the tape in, you go back over to the couch, handing the weed back before plopping down on the couch beside him. Without a second thought, you throw your legs into his lap like you’ve done countless times before, settling into the corner of the couch as the movie starts. 

Not missing a beat, Eddie’s free hand comes to your legs, running along the bare skin from your pajama shorts. Your breath catches in your chest feeling the warmth of his hand on you. Cold, chunky rings doing nothing to hide the searing heat blazing your flesh. His hand never goes more than a few inches above your knee as you hand the joint back and forth. But the way his fingers glide across the small portion of thigh he does touch lights a fire inside of you. 

You’re not even paying attention to the movie. The images flashing on the screen, but the only thing you can focus on is his fucking hand. You didn’t even realize that he was trying to talk to you until his hand grips your thigh, shaking it a bit to get your attention. “Huh?” You whip your head to face him.

“I asked if you wanted the last hit,” Eddie repeats himself, holding the roach your way. 

The question might as well have been a slap in the face the way your heart tightens in your chest. Suddenly every single thing makes sense to you. The way his hand has you so bent out of shape. The way he inhaled shooting straight to your core. How he always lets you pick the movie, or the music, and always offers you the last hit. Everything that your best friend does for you wrapped up in a tiny little bow. Why every little thing about Eddie is so noticeable and intense tonight. 

You fucking like him. 

You were so startled by his mind fuck comment and couldn’t say that you wouldn’t because it’d be a fucking lie. Subconsciously, you knew that you wanted to be with Eddie before your brain had even had a moment to process the information. 

Son of a bitch.

“I- uh,” you clear your throat, his eyebrows raising at you in waiting. 

“You alright?” Eddie asks when you still haven’t answered. 

“Great!” You say a little too chipper. “Um, I’m good,” you shake your head, waving at the burnt paper, “you can have it.” 

Eddie’s eyebrows pinch, like he knows something’s off. But he doesn’t say anything, which you’re grateful for. He only nods, taking the last hit and snubbing the remnants. After doing so, he curls his arm around your shoulders to bring you closer to him, allowing your head to rest on his shoulder. Meanwhile your heart is having a field day in your chest. 

---

So, yeah, it became pretty obvious to you that you felt some type of way about Eddie. With noticing everything about him, you started to realize that everything you liked about Eddie, he did for you. Playing your favorite songs softly on his acoustic when you had trouble sleeping. Coming over in the middle of the night when your bathroom sink broke and fixing it for you. Giving you rides everywhere because the thought of his best friend walking somewhere was ridiculous to him. Letting you decide what you were doing on days he didn’t have Hellfire or practice. 

Each and every time you’d offered to do whatever he wanted to do, Eddie would hit you with a ‘I wanna do whatever you want, princess,’ or something of that nature. And the pet names. They’d never stopped. Princess, babe, love, sweetheart. You name it, Eddie’s more than likely called you that. It wasn’t until the day that after a weak attempt to fill the Eddie sized hole in your heart with someone else only resulting in heartbreak did you realize why he always called you sweet names. When he told you that you were too good for the asshole that cheated on you all of a month into the relationship.

‘Babe, you’re perfect and if he can’t see that, he’s a fucking idiot that doesn’t deserve you,’ were his exact words. But it was in the way he held you close to his chest, peppering kisses in your hair while he rubbed your back that it hit you. 

Eddie liked you too. 

Your best friend wanted in your pants but he was just too much of a gentleman to say it outright. You’re not blind and you’re far from stupid. And to be frank, it’s not like Eddie doesn’t have warmth pooling in your gut with the smallest of actions. Maybe, in some backwards sort of way, you hope that over exaggerating your own feelings for him will let Eddie do what you can’t seem to do. Have the courage to make the first move. 

So rather than put your big girl pants on and talk about it, you teased him. The way he stuttered his words when you’d asked if he was an idiot then too was well worth it. 

But once you’d started to tease him about it, you didn’t really know how to stop. It’s become this kind of rapport you share. Him subtly hitting on you while you push it too far to get him to crack. It’s just that he hasn’t cracked. Eddie is like a stone fucking wall when it comes to his resolve. You’d thought for sure the day you’d gotten him to pop a boner class that he finally would’ve said something. 

Except that he didn’t.

You two were talking about some potential date with Jason Carver. One you’d never say yes to, mind you. But still. Word had spread that after the jock’s friend hurt you, that he wanted to swoop in and save the day. You’d rather make out with a viper.

---

“A shoulder to cry on is a dick to ride on, sweetheart,” Eddie scoffed under his breath. 

You roll your eyes, while he’s not necessarily wrong, that's probably exactly Jason’s hopes and intentions, it only lets his jealousy show. “What’s the matter, Eds?” You drop your tone, honey sweet, “would you rather it be your shoulder?” You ask, knowing good and well he’ll get the insinuation. 

“Pfft, anyone is better than Jason, babe,” he says, fiddling with his pencil. “Besides, last I’d heard,” Eddie leans over, “Carver doesn’t know shit about pleasing a woman in bed.” But the sneer on his slips does nothing to hide the meaning of his words. 

“That so?” You meet him the rest of the way, placing your hand above his knee, “tell me something, Eds.” You slide your hand up his thigh, squeezing as you go, and Eddie stills, tension locking his shoulders while he holds his breath. Just as you’re about to reach the inseam, you whisper, “do you know how to please a woman better than Jason?” You make sure to add an extra layer of sugar to the jock’s name, really lay it on thick with Eddie. “You think you could please me?” You tease, reaching your destination and feeling the hardened bulge in his jeans. 

Eddie jolts out of his stool so quickly, he nearly knocks it over, mumbling “bathroom,” to the teacher scolding him for his outburst. 

---

All Eddie did was excuse himself to the bathroom and acted like nothing ever happened come lunchtime. Like he didn’t rub one out in the middle of school because of something you’d said. It was kind of infuriating. Sure, you weren’t exactly thinking he’d jump your bones in the middle of a crowded classroom. You don’t even know what you were expecting. Some other kind of a reaction than that.

An acceptance. Some kind of affirmation. 

An agreement that he in fact could take care of you. That he wanted to. Just like you so desperately wanted him to. You’re running out of ways to tease him that aren’t just throwing yourself at him or walking into his room stark naked.

“I need your help,” Eddie’s voice startles your head out of your locker as he leans on the one beside it. 

“Fuck’s sake, Munson,” you clutch your chest, heart hammering from how hard you were yanked from your thoughts. “Are you trying to send me to an early grave?”

He only laughs at your anxiousness, “never! I like having you around too much, princess,” Eddie grins while you shove the last textbook into your locker. 

Closing your locker, you wink at him, “always knew you had the hots for me, Eds.” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie playfully swats at your arm, making you giggle. 

You’re confident in his feelings for you. But when it comes to the actual act of opening your mouth and telling Eddie how you feel, you clam up. And you’re honestly a little worried that with how long you’ve been teasing him about it, Eddie might not believe you if you said it in earnest. That you were playing some trick. If only he knew that you mean every word. So all you can do now is hope he breaks since you’ve dug yourself into a hole you have no idea how to get out of. 

“What did you need help with?” You lean against the lockers, facing him.

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, “Mike thought it’d be a good idea to get the flu.” With a huff, he presses on, “and I’m not about to get sick for one and cancel the last meeting for Hellfire before break. So, I was hoping” he reaches over and taps your nose, “you would come by as a stand in?”

“Yeah, why not,” you say. It’s been a bit since you’ve played. He taught you how when you were kids, but never got as into it as he did. Helping him plan his campaigns however, that was pretty fun. “Are you still on the Cult of Vecna? I’d hate to be accused of cheating,” you remark. 

“No, we finished that a few weeks ago,” Eddie smiles, “if the dice treats them kindly, the party will be taking down a succubus tonight.” 

“Do I have enough time to shower and change first? Gym kicked my ass today,” you tell him. 

Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulder like you didn’t literally just tell him you think you smell. “Of course,” he says, leading you towards the exit. “Gotta grab you an official shirt first anyway,” Eddie weaves through the mass of students making their way to the bus or their cars. Reaching his van, he opens the passenger door for you. As always, waving his arm out with a bow, “M’lady, your chariot.” 

“Thank you, Eddie,” you kiss his cheek, “always such a gentleman.” Even hopping in your seat, you don’t miss the way he tries to hide his blush behind his curls. 

Getting in the driver’s seat, Eddie blasts the mixtape he made for you all the way to the trailer park, not saying a word until he pulls up outside your place. Opening your door, he jabs a thumb over his shoulder, “I’m gonna go grab the shirt, be back in a few, okay?” 

“Sure thing, handsome,” you pat his chest, boots hitting the grass. Batting your eyelashes at him, you saunter towards your front door. 

Biting away your giggle at pushing his buttons once again, you narrowly miss his grumbled speech under his breath. “...be the fucking death of me.” 

Passing through the kitchen once inside, you see a note with a twenty on the counter from your dad. Telling you he had to leave early today, but to get yourself something to eat for dinner. Shoving the money in your bag, you make a beeline for the bathroom. You all but tear your clothes off in your haste to get clean, scrubbing yourself harder than necessary. But you really fucking hate gym class and were forced to participate today. 

Satisfied that you only smell like your shampoo and favorite soap, you wrap your towel around yourself and head to your room to get dressed. You have half a mind to just stand there and wait for Eddie to come back. Wondering if you being in nothing but a towel would finally let his instincts take over, throw the gentlemanly attitude in the trash and just take you. But, he’d asked you for your help and knew he would be angry with himself if he missed Hellfire. 

You want Eddie, that’s a fact. But you don’t want to prevent him from doing the things he loves. So you quickly get dressed. Grabbing a pair of wide fishnets and a short, black and red skirt and your boots. Choosing a dark red, lacey bra and panty set to match. It’s only when you start digging through your drawers for a shirt that you remember you’re supposed to be wearing a Hellfire shirt tonight. 

A wicked grin splits your face, an idea forming that you simply can’t turn down. Not bothering to put a shirt on, you sit on your bed with your bra covered tits on display, leaning back on your palms to wait for Eddie. Your front door opens and nerves settle in your chest. What if he freaks out in a bad way?

“You ready, princess?” Eddie’s voice floats through the trailer, his footsteps making their way to your room, “sorry it took so- fuck.” Eddie’s words slow to a halt when he sees you displayed on your bed. “I- um, sorry,” he covers his eyes with his free hand, burning red cheeks beneath his palm. 

“It’s okay to look, Eds,” your voice saccharine even to yourself, “promise I won’t bite. Unless you’re into that, of course.” 

“Put this on,” Eddie unceremoniously tosses the fabric in your general direction, successfully covering your chest, “we’re gonna be late.” 

“What’s the matter, Eds?” You tease further, standing up and putting on the Hellfire shirt, tying it behind your back so it doesn’t cover your skirt and exposes some of your midriff. Hearing the rustling of fabric, his hand falls from his face, expression stern. It warms your core in the most delicious way possible. You can’t help but push him harder, getting in his space, “can’t handle seeing a girl wearing a bra? Or is it me that’s doin’ it for ya?” 

“Keep acting like a brat, babe,” Eddie warns, an inch from your face, pointing at you, “and I’ll put you over my fucking knee. ‘Kay?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, smirking at the red tinge of your cheeks before walking out of your room. 

That shuts you up real quick and you follow him outside to his van.

---

As much as you wanted to poke and prod at Eddie on the way back to school, you didn’t. It wasn’t in fear of him putting you over his knee. That sounds amazing. It was the hard lines on his face as he kept checking his watch. The way he would groan and his fingers would fidget on the steering wheel at every red light you hit on the way there. You kept quiet, bobbing your head to the music, being good so that Eddie could get to his friends on time. 

Did that stop you from uncrossing your legs when his hand found the gear shift in hopes he would reach over to place his hand on your thigh? No, no it did not. Did you get what you wanted? Also no. Annoyed with yourself for not pressing him further, you didn’t even notice you’d gotten to school until your door was yanked open. Eddie’s palm up in offering to help you out of the van. 

You sat at the Hellfire table where everyone had their sheets, notes, and dice set up to play, dutifully listening to the recap of their last session. It wasn’t hard to keep up with, and you really think that if you all work together properly that you’d be able to kill the succubus. Gareth joked that he could just seduce it, win her over so that no one had to fight or die. 

The way Eddie rolled his eyes at the suggestion sealed the deal. 

This is how you’re going to get what you want. If you couldn’t tease Eddie to the point of snapping, you’ll poke the metaphorical bear and piss him off enough to.

“I think you should do it,” you say, placing your hand on Gareth’s shoulder leaning into him, “I’m sure you’ve got what it takes, big guy.” 

You miss Dustin’s muttered, “oh, shit,” and Jeff’s wince. 

Eddie’s hand falls to your thigh under the table, squeezing just enough to equally hurt and feel amazing. “Forget what I said already?” His eyes have darkened and have a glint to them that makes you crave. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but shake your head anyway. He juts his lips, giving you a curt nod and his hand vanishes. “You cannot seduce a succubus,” Eddie explains, playing off his question like it was meant for the group and not you. “She will see right through your bullshit attempt and kill you twice as fast.” 

“Come on,” your voice drips honey, rolling your eyes, ignoring Eddie to face Gareth and stroke his cheek with your finger, “Gareth’s more than attractive enough to pull it off. Aren’t you?” You coo, pinching his reddened cheek. 

You feel a little bad, using Gareth to get Eddie pissed off enough to do something. But at least you’re not lying. Gareth, objectively, is attractive. So what’s a little boost to his ego to get you what you want going to hurt? Nothing. 

“Is that really your course of action, Gareth the Great?” Eddie grits, pointing to the set of dice in front of the other boy. Brown eyes wild and his tone not even trying to hide his annoyance.

Furrowing his brows, Gareth contemplates his options, before holding up a finger and turning his attention to the rest of the group. Wanting their opinion as to whether he can actually do this or not. A conversation you’re not allowed to be a part of when Eddie’s hand grabs your thigh again, jerking your legs open and you closer to him. 

Your wide eyes meet him where he’s leaning in his throne to whisper, “you really want to be put over my knee that badly, babe?” 

“Oh, Eddie,” you purr, guiding his hand farther up your thigh, “don’t threaten me with a good time. Because all it sounds like to me is weightless threats. Why don’t you do something, Eds?” 

“Watch it,” his free hand comes up, ring clad finger pointing at you again, “keep it up and I won’t care that we’re mid session. Understand?” Eddie’s getting close and your nerves are buzzing in delight. That some part of him is accepting your advances. But the fact that he’s still trying to contain himself only eggs you on more. “Careful, princess.”

Is that so? 

Settling in your seat, you smile sweetly, “I understand, Master,” teasing his role of Dungeon Master. You smirk at the way his hand tightens around your thigh. You know what the bandana in his pocket means and you were hoping that he did too. The way his mouth pinches into a thin line only confirms your hopes. “I promise I’ll be good,” you say, lying through your teeth. 

“I’m gonna do it,” Gareth declares, happily oblivious to the conversation that just occurred, startling you two away from one another, leaving your thigh cold. “I’m gonna roll a charisma check, gonna try and woo her with my drum skills.”

“For fuck’s-” Eddie scrubs the irritation from his face, “go ahead. Don’t expect this to be easy,” he growls, “perfect twenty or you fail and I get to watch her eat you.” 

No matter what happens after Gareth lets the die fly out of his hands, you’re certain of one thing; you’ve got Eddie now. Time to make him crack. The die hits the table, bouncing a few times before rolling to a stop. Lifting from your seat, you peer over to the other side, giving Eddie a perfect view of your ass. Hearing him groan, you lean further, seeing a golden twenty on the sleek black die. 

“See, Gareth,” you plop back down in your chair. Reaching over, you run your hands through his curls, “I knew you had what it takes to please a woman.” You really hope throwing that line out that had gotten Eddie so worked up last time would be what it takes to make him lose control now. 

“Well aren’t you-” Gareth’s words are cut short from Eddie’s throne skidding across the floor from his force to stand. Silence falls after the screech. 

“Get up,” he states. When you don’t move, he drags your chair out from under the table. “I warned you,” he seethes in your ear, bending to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder. Your squeal is ignored by everyone at the table when Eddie’s palm smacks your ass. “Have fun fucking a succubus, Gareth. We’ll be back,” Eddie doesn’t bother looking over his shoulder, heading for the exit. 

You look up at the group, hoping one of them will help you or get Eddie to calm down, but they don’t. Jeff is only hiding his smile behind his hand as he shakes his head. Mike looks uncomfortable, not surprising. Dustin winces, awkwardly waving at your retreating form. Lucas mutters something under his breath that you don’t catch. Not even Gareth saves you, too strung out on the fact that he’d rolled perfectly. Because unbeknownst to you, everyone in that room knows of Eddie’s feelings for you. Your blatant teasing hasn’t gone unnoticed by any of them, they’re honestly surprised Eddie didn’t yank you out of the room the first time you touched Gareth. 

Throwing the door open, Eddie doesn’t say a word as he carries you down the hall, trying door handles until he finds one that’s unlocked. Halfway down the hall, he’s successful, pushing that door open just as hard as the club’s. “You know,” he huffs, yanking the teacher’s rolling chair out, “I tried to be nice.” 

He sets you on your feet for the two seconds it takes him to sit down before pulling you over his lap. “Eddie,” you try to scramble up, only to be slapped on the ass again.

“Quiet,” Eddie orders, situating you until you're positioned properly, one arm holding your lower back to keep you in place, the other hiking your skirt. “D’you think I’m stupid? Fucking with Gareth to get a rise out of me. Thought I wouldn’t notice?” He asks, spanking you again when you don’t answer. 

“Not stupid, Eds,” you pant, the sting warming your exposed skin, the thin lace doing nothing to hide the discoloration from his palm. “Just very fucking stubborn,” you correct him, with a breathless laugh. “Can’t take what’s blatantly offered to you.”

“That so?” Eddie rubs your ass, gripping the plump flesh before slapping it again. He dips his hand, running his fingers over your clothed folds, chuckling at the wet patch. “Aww, so wet already? Only a slut’s pussy gets wet from just spanking her. That what you are? My little slut?” 

You moan, “yes,” arching your back to try and get more contact to your aching pussy. 

“And she’s desperate too,” Eddie coos, speaking about you as if you’re not even there. Yanking your panties down, he ghosts his fingers against your slit, “I bet it hurts, hmm?” Eddie slaps both sides of your ass, hard, making you cry out and grip the chair and his legs. “I bet it does,” he kneads the flesh, “being so needy over so little. Don’t worry,” his shoves two fingers inside of you, you don’t know if you screamed or moaned, “Master will take care of you, sweetheart.” 

His voice oozes faux sympathy and your eyes roll back as he brushes that sweet spot inside of you instantly. “E-Eddie,” you moan, trying to meet the thrust of his fingers. 

Yanking you up by your hair, Eddie removes his fingers, slapping your ass. The wet digits make it sting even more. “Call me that again, and you’ll be biting down on your soaked panties for the rest of the night. Got it?” 

“Yes,” you grunt from the angle. Eddie only pulls your hair harder, making you wince, “yes, Master.” Your hair is released and you gasp, falling back to his leg. 

“Good girl,” he praises, sinking his fingers back inside, building your orgasm at twice the rate. You’re a moaning mess in his lap, writhing and ready to snap. “I shouldn’t let you cum for being such a brat before,” Eddie considers. “But fuck, babe, I wanna hear the way you scream when you cum.” 

He doubles his efforts and your eyes roll back, moaning wantonly. “Fuck,” you gasp, warmth spreading through your core like lava. Hot and thick. “Please, please- fuck,” you cry out, a harsh slap to your ass, hightening the sensations in your cunt. 

“Might put those panties in your mouth anyway, princess,” Eddie curls his fingers again and you’re sure you’re going to black out. “Wouldn’t want the rest of the group to hear how much of a whore you are. Ready to fall apart before I’ve even got my dick in you. Come on,” Eddie groans, his hard cock pressing against your stomach, thumb dipping to circle your clit, “show them what a good, little slut you are for me, baby.” 

Static washes over your limbs, a loud, broken moan falling from your lips and you gush. Squirting all over Eddie’s fingers, thighs shaking through your orgasm. Your eyes screw shut, Eddie not stopping the thrusts of his fingers, the coil winding inside of you faster than you knew it could. And before you can even say it’s sensitive, or too much, your walls flutter around him as you come again. Your head grows fuzzy from the intensity of two in such quick succession. 

“That’s my fucking girl,” Eddie growls, pulling his fingers out. You can hear him sucking them clean, “fuck, you taste good.” Helping you up, he bends you over the desk, hearing his belt unbuckle, his pants sliding down after. “Ready?” Eddie asks, rubbing the tip of his dick along your cunt. 

“Please,” you gasp against the cold wood, hands splayed as you turn your head, “please, Master. Need you.”

“All you’ve ever, ever had to do,” Eddie accentuates his words with harder rubs to your folds, “was ask.” Proving to you that had you properly opened your mouth from the beginning that you could’ve been doing this much sooner. “If it’s too much, I want you to say red, understand?” You nod, trying to push back onto his dick. But he pulls farther away, rubbing your hip softly, “I need words, baby.”

“I understand, Master.”

“Good girl,” he praises, lifting the back of your shirt to place a kiss on your spine. Finally, his cock pushes inside of you, the stretch eliciting a lewd moan from your mouth. 

“Oh my g-god,” you gasp out a throaty moan, the fullness of your walls stretching you so perfectly. All you can think about is where you’re connected. His cock full hilt, the hand bruisingly holding your hip and the other rubbing the swell of your ass. 

“Not god, baby, just me,” Eddie chuckles darkly, slowly pulling back to just the tip. Dragging himself inside your pussy in teasing strokes, going only halfway back in to pull back again. “So tight, baby, fucking perfect.” He lifts your leg up until your knee is resting on the desk and then he slams into you deep, provoking another scream. “That’s right, let it out, pretty girl. Scream for your Master.” 

You grit your teeth, the constant ramming of that spongy spot inside of you leaves stars behind your eyelids. “Fuck, fuck,” you gasp, moaning as you try to push back to meet his thrusts. 

Eddie wraps his hand around your throat, pulling you up until you’re flush with his chest, free hand groping your breasts. “Sound so pretty,” he groans in your ear, thrusting faster and your eyes roll back. “Gonna come again?” Eddie asks, leaving your breasts to circle his fingers around your clit. “Soak my cock, baby.” Throwing your head back, you scream incomprehensible sounds, your orgasm rushing through you and splashing all over his dick pumping into you at a startling pace. “This what you wanted? Hmm? Wanted me?”

“Yes,” you croak, vocal chords going through it with the way you keep screaming from his efforts. 

“Prove it,” Eddie says, swiftly pulling out to sit back down in the rolling chair. Grabbing your hips, he helps you straddle his lap. “Show me how badly you’ve wanted me, princess. It’s your turn to make Master feel good,” Eddie guides his dick back inside and you sigh, feeling him back where he belongs. 

“Wanted you for so long, Eds,” you whine, out of breath and very fuzzy. You hold his shoulders for balance, bouncing on his cock. 

His brown eyes soften only just, the hands holding your waist tenderly rubbing the skin. “Me too, princess,” Eddie says, grabbing the back of your head to pull you in for a kiss. You melt into it, grinding against his cock, putting pressure on your clit in a way that has another orgasm bubbling under the surface. You can barely think, let alone breathe when Eddie mutters, “gettin’ close, babe,” helping you grind against him faster. “Can I come inside? Mark this perfect pussy as mine?”

Resting your forehead against his, you nod, not trusting your voice. You’re on the pill, something you can absolutely tell him later once you have the proper functions to do so. For now, “p-pill,” is all you can manage. At least, you think you said it. Your throat certainly made a noise. Whether it was an actual word is up for debate. He’s doing a wonderful job making you cock drunk and you never want to look back. 

Eddie chuckles, wrapping both arms around your back to hold your shoulders, thrusting up into you with sloppy, hard movements. “That’s my girl,” he moans, pounding into you and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, that the burn of your orgasm won’t be more than a tease, your walls clench and you come again. Eddie following you soon after, “fuck, baby,” moaned from him lips, his cock burying deep inside of you as the warmth of his cum spreads inside your pussy. 

Panting and struggling to catch your breath, Eddie carefully pulls out of you. One hand rubs softly on your reddened ass, the other tracing shapeless designs on your back. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, all the tenderness in his voice returned, wrapping you in the best kind of warmth. “What do you need?” Eddie asks when you don’t answer, leaning his head back to try and get you to look at him. 

Barely opening your eyes, you half nod your head, mumbling, “just you. Always needed you,” you smile sleepily. 

“You have me, babe,” Eddie places soft kisses on your lips, coaxing your head down from the clouds. “I think you have for a while now,” he laughs under his breath. 

“Took you long enough,” you huff, opening your eyes enough to properly see him. 

“Maybe, if you realize you like me,” Eddie chuckles, out of breath from both of your efforts. “Don’t tease me so much that I think you’re just joking, just say something.” 

Sitting up, you give him a mock salute, “yes, sir,” with a dopey smile. 

His fingers dig into your hips, “what was that?” It takes you a moment to sift through the haze in your brain to notice he’s not angry, his hard cock digging into your ass. But you bite your lip once you understand what he means. “Say it again,” he grinds you against him, your eyes fluttering shut with a sigh. Lifting you enough to prod at your pussy, Eddie repeats, “call me sir again, sweetheart.” 

The tease gets to your head as much as it does your pussy, “please, sir,” you whine, trying to get him inside of you again. 

“For you, princess?” Eddie sinks you down on his cock, the sinful sounds of both of your cum making you moan, “always. Now be a good girl and come so that I can get you home and take care of you, yeah?” 

You probably won’t be making it back to Hellfire as your hips start to roll again. 

But at least you’ve finally got Eddie.

---

taglist: let me know if you'd like to be added 💚

@only4wakingup @decadentpaperduck @ruinedbythehobbit @wolfhrdds @live-the-fangirl-life @imnotsiriusyouare

[extremelyblackandwhite]

heiress

pairing: bucky barnes x oc!reader 

a/n: this is part one of a four part series based on a song lyrics sent to me by an amazing anon with a reader based on my favourite oc. 

“letters strewn across your bedroom floor. such beautiful words but you can’t remember who they’re for“

Y/N collapsed against the thin black matt again, her head thumping against the worn out floors off the compound and her hair covering the view of the younger recruits dancing in black ballerina costumes to the sound of ominous piano. She pushed her hands against the black mattress to look at her professor who was staring her down, yet he always did. He was taller than her, taller than any recruit around so if the metal arm wasn’t intimidating enough, his looking down into those storm filled eyes did the trick.

    - That was a cheap shot. 

    - There are no cheap shots in the battlefield. - he extended his hand to her but she denied him, instead using her hands against the matt to pull herself up. - You cannot expect ...

    - Fairness in battle. - she completed his sentence, arranging her ponytail while pulling the strap of her black top up. - I know, you’ve told me many times.

   - Then you should already know it. You keep this up and you’ll return to ballet.

   - You’re just a terrible professor. - she smirked, taking a few steps away to consider her next move. - You can’t expect me to expect someone to hit me in the chest.

    - I expect to see you in the Red Room. - he said, shrugging it out but she knew exactly what that entailed. The red room, the other black widows, she wanted none of that, none of that lifestyle. - You’re a good marksman. Just need hand to hand combat.

   - Best out of five?

   - We are not gonna stop until you bring me down.

   - Will you tell me your name if I bring you down?

   - You know my name. - he spoke like an authoritarian professor, perfect posture and senses as if he expected an attack from every corner. Maybe he was right in fearing an attack yet his position was almost frozen, tense even ... as if someone held strings over him and controlled him like a puppet. - C’mon, Daisy. You can graduate and become as good as any girl here.

  - I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours.

  - I know your name. 

  - I meant my real name, not my code name.

  - Stop joking around and bring me down. 

Y/N pushed her jacket up as she stepped in the middle of the street with Monica and Wanda by her side. It had only been 2 months out of Westview, 2 short months compiled of hiding from whatever was left of SHIELD, SWORD and from the identity who had created Wanda’s fake haven. The plan was simple, elemental even, yet it proved much harder to gather evidence on SHIELD and SWORD’s plan when both she, Monica, Wanda, Jimmy and Darcy had both been considered highly dangerous fugitives so whatever they did had to be undercover. The walls have ears and eyes so all care was necessary, which meant no display of supernatural abilities or anything that could connect them to themselves. HYDRA had gone underground and still seemed to be pulling at the strings of SHIELD and SWORD, as Ross was working on a new generation of super soldiers with the excuse the world needed security after the Avengers dissolved and Captain America, Steve Rogers, dropped his shield. She should’ve known, after SWORD and SHIELD started experimenting with Vision’s body. She should’ve known but with the threat of Westview, they kept both her and Monica in the dark, instead redirecting their attentions to framing Wanda as a fugitive.

     - If that SHIELD hideaway is still around, it won’t be short of traps. - Monica commented, eyes surrounding the sea of people around. - What’s the plan?

    - Yelena and Jimmy are going around and Vision and Darcy are in the helicopter surrounding the top. 

     - You do know Vision can fly, right? - Wanda smirked, yet the unbelievable thing was she had not referred to him as her husband despite the wedding band around her finger.

     - Regular people can’t fly. - Monica said, rather amused at the thought of Vision trying to go by undercover in the sky.

     - We found it. - Yelena’s voice came through the intercom on her ear. - There better be some fighting for it to be worth while.

     - Wait up, we’ll let you know when we enter. No fighting.

     - You’re no fun.

They did not know exactly what they were looking for, they were just looking for evidence. her father was always keen on scattering things around. If there was something her father was right about was not keeping everything in one place, people would find it easily. She was sure, she was sure she would find something in that place which was connected to HYDRA, even if it was a map of other locations. If she were ever to clean their names, she needed evidence and then she needed to stop them. Super soldiers should have stayed in the past yet despite HYDRAs and her father’s mistakes the very organisations who swore to protect Earth, were making the same mistakes. 

The mundane looking home appeared in the horizon. It looked less scary now, less official than when her father dropped her there to be collected by Madam B. Even now, so many years past it she could fell the snow falling on her arms as the stern woman dragged her away from everything she knew. It haunted her, it still did and flashbacks went through her mind as she yelled for her father not to let that woman take her. She begged and sobbed but he turned his back on her as if her discomfort did not matter. Almost as cold as the snow that fell from the ground.

    - Hey ... - Monica put her hand on her shoulder, soft, reassuring smile. - He’s locked up. Can’t send you away anymore.

    - Even if he tried ... - Wanda’s eyes glowed red. - He wouldn’t win.

    - Let’s get this over and done with. - Y/N sighed, looking at the door as if it was a bitter lover. - Yelena, we’re coming in.

    - Copy.

Wanda rose her hand, twisting as the intricate set of locks and codes was over ridden by the red glow of her powers. Yes, it was no ordinary way of opening a door but it was the best shoot. The once scary room was dark, filled with dust and reminders of a great time for SHIELD. Walking in, she could smell the rotting wood, gun powder, and mold. It was funny how the house which still haunted her dreams was collapsing onto itself, a simple symbol of times which were coming to an end. Yet, like her trauma, it still remained tall, in the heart of Washington. They walked in slowly, nothing but the sound of their breathing until a floor board creaked. Immediately Monica pulled out her gun while Wanda’s eyes lit red and Y/N grabbed the gun tucked in her trousers. She moved her hand slowly, the old candles in the tables lightening up. As the light engulfed the room, she found the intruders had also guns pointed at them.

   - Drop your weapons. - she knew them. Sharon Carter, Sam Wilson, and ... Bucky Barnes. Shit.

   - I’m afraid not. - Monica replied, never wavering stance which could make even the strongest of man cower. - State your business.

   - I thought you said no fight. - Yelena came up from behind with Jimmy, both holding their guns up. 

   - You’re surrounded. Drop. Your. Weapons. - Monica repeated.

   - Wait, I know him. - Yelena pointed her gun at Bucky. - You were in the Red Room.

   - Maybe you should drop your weapons. You’re the one with a terrorist who harboured a whole town of innocents.

   - Sharon, I didn’t peg you for a gullible one. - Y/N’s eyes shone dim white, before she dropped her weapon. - We’re not your enemy and we are not looking for a fight.

   - I am. - Yelena rolled her eyes.

   - Lieutenant Ross wants to build a super soldier army and he’s looking for whatever information there is on the Winter Soldier program and Captain America. They were experimenting on Vision before Wanda broke him out and then both were held hostage in a simulation. We are not criminals.

   - You’re your father’s daughter why should I believe in you?

   - Because if not it’s 3 against 7 and it’s not a very fair fight. - Wanda snarked back before moving her hand, making the three point at each other. - Or you can shoot each other. 

   - That’s just mean, Wanda. Don’t you have a little pity for your friend? - Sam looked her way. - Look, we’re on the run. We’re not looking to turn you in.

   - Then drop it. - Monica shrugged. - You’re not gonna win.

   - I only count 5, I like my odds. 

   - Vision and Darcy are outside. 

   - I thought Vision was super dead. - Sam whispered over to Bucky who shrugged at his words, them registering void as his mind rushed over the strings of his memory to try and find why the woman who had just lowered her weapon was so familiar yet his memory seemed surrounded by red tint, nothing coming. - Wanda, you know me. We’re not here with malice, there’s no need for a fight.

   - This is waste of time. - Yelena rolled her eyes, lowering her own weapon. - Can’t you make magical handcuffs, Wanda?

  - That’s a gross understatement of what I can do ... - her eyes glowed red as they usually did whenever she used her powers to a particular extreme. 

  - We’re not starting a fight. - Wanda looked Y/N’s way as those particular words left her mouth. She could feel her energy trying to slip into her mind and successfully do so. Whatever made her mind safe from her tended to waver in delicate situations and Wanda loved whenever she got to peak inside her mind. This time she merely gave her a teasing look, eyes returning to their natural light green hue. Her eyes did not lie and she guessed neither did whatever piece of her mind Wanda got hold of. - We’re under Nick Fury. The last thing we are is your foe. 

   - Hey... is this what we looking for? - Jimmy held up a file with LE-0623. The number itself made her sick to her stomach. Every memory she had somehow had that number from the black shirt he wore to train to the files on her father’s desk. There was no question they had the right file, or at least one of the files on the Winter Soldier. She remembered laughing to herself at how long it had taken for someone to find one of the soldier’s red notebooks. To her knowledge there were at least five: one with HYDRA, one at the Red Room, one with a holder and the other two at different safe houses. She remembered Madam B. telling her the soldier was more machine than man and as such, like every machine, required an instruction book. It was sick, she thought the analogy was sick and now looking at him, years after she had known him, it felt sicker. There had always been a human inside the soldier but HYDRA was not interested in humanity unless it was submissive to them.

   - You can come. - Monica suggested. - You’re not exactly America’s sweethearts at the moment.

   - Why should we trust you? - Sharon cocked her head to the side. Why should she trust a team with the daughter of a man who had taken down her aunt’s life project? Y/N wouldn’t have trust her if she were in her place. - Or is that a kinder way of saying we’re captive?

 - You really think we’d need a kind way to hold you captive? - Wanda turned around, exiting the building. She probably knew the outcome of their decision before they told anyone. 

The two man shared a knowing look between them, following Wanda out with Yelena fast on their step but Y/N stood behind. The whole room looked so much smaller yet it vibrated with memories she had buried deep into her subconsciousness. It was still there, everything as it was growing old with dust just like her childhood.  It was lost. Monica looked at her with kind eyes, drapping her arm over her shoulder like she did whenever they were both recruits at SWORD. Everything seemed so far away now, even Westview seemed far. Time seemed to pass by the two like an enemy yet it lingered in the memories which haunted at night.

   - You three should go with Yelena. - Monica suggested. - You can come with us, Jimmy.

  - I’ll go with Yelena. - Wanda walked over to the former Red Room graduate, eyes still gazing over Y/N, looking for any gaps in her mind shield which was slowly crumbling the more she looked at him. - See you at the base.

Y/N looked over her shoulder for a second to look at him. He looked different, at least as different as one who does not age can look, short hair, relaxed posture sometimes even. Her eyes met up with his, familiar looks which lingered like a long kiss, yet she couldn’t bare look him in the eye and instead entered Monica’s old jeep. Monica took the driver’s seat while she took shotgun and Jimmy sat on the back, reporting what had happened through him com to a very curious Darcy who was probably bored off her mind being stuck in an helicopter with Vision.

   - Jim, can I see that? - Y/N turned around in her seat to look at the FBI agent who shrugged and handed her the file. She let it fall on her lap, fingers tracing the name she wanted to know so much when her whole world were the walls of the Red Room. She would’ve never guessed his name, even if she tried. 

Her hands traced the edges of the file, almost afraid to find out what was inside; yet when she opened them, a few letters slide out. Daisy. She recognised the fast written name on top in messy black runny ink. 

  - Anything interesting? 

  - No. - she blinked, closing the file. - Uhm ... not that I know. Maybe Alexei might know, he was a guardian when Sergeant Barnes was a fight intructor there.

  - Think the twins will freak out when they see Sam Wilson? - Monica smiled. The twins had a huge fascination with the Avengers despite both their parents being part off the initial team. Nevertheless, Billy and Tommy did not really care and instead got wide eyed watching old footage of the Avengers. - Last time they saw Hawkeye they were hyper for a month. 

  - Not sure Fury’s gonna be happy about having three new people in.

  - The more, the merrier. 

The ride to the base was excruciating as she replayed the scene in her head although there was really nothing to replay. She knew someday at some point she would see him, she just never expected it to be that soon. The last time she had seen him was the mirage of him in Westview, one of Agnes failed tricks, and even then she got tongue tied. Seeing him now even felt more unrealistic, he felt like such a figure of her past, like an unresolved badly healed wound. She really thought that by now she would be better at controlling it, you’d think 6 years would’ve taught her best how to deal with him even after all the past events where his face was plastered all over the television. Nevertheless, despite how slow time ran for her, they reached the small seemingly deserted area which started to glow red as Wanda broke through the hex she had created to protect their designated base. It was nothing special, Wanda had told her when she brought the team to see what she had been working on. Yet, it was something special and over time their team grew to give harbour anyone who looked for shelter from SWORD, SHIELD, or HYDRA and the initial team could not be any prouder of it.

The two jeeps parked in front of the entrance and immediately Y/N spotted Tommy rush outside, holding his twin by the arm. Both clearly already knowing they had visitors, Avengers visitors. 

    - Jeez Louise, you two. What did I say about using your powers? - Wanda stepped out of the jeep, hands on her waist. 

    - Not unless it’s necessary or under supervision. - Tommy shrugged as Alexei came running behind them. - Alexei supervised us, mum.

    - Just wait ‘til your father hears about this.

    - You got kids? - Sam asked, visibly worried at the fact his old friend seemed to have two ten year olds.

    - Long story. - Monica added. - You two inside. No place for you here today.

    - But you said we could meet the Avengers, mum. - Billy complained to Wanda.

     - You can always meet me, kids. - Vision joked making Darcy roll her eyes. Poor Darcy, she was probably already done with dad jokes. 

The briefing was long and drawn up with Fury mostly filling Sharon, Bucky and Sam into what they did and listening to Jimmy about the contents of the file. There was never too much in those files and it was mostly about ensuring they had all the files so Lieutenant Ross wouldn’t get his hands on them. Besides, it was up to Sharon, Bucky and Sam’s interest to join him as soon enough Zemo would be contacted by Lieutenant Ross and until he had one of the Winter Soldier files in his possession, Zemo was also one of their enemies. She tried looking at him a few times, memories of the time they had spent together clouding her mind and better judgement yet she couldn’t forget how Bucky had pushed Sharon behind him the moment Monica and her had pointed guns at them, protecting her the same way he used to protect her. Yet, she had no business thinking about him, not after what she had done, not after she became the sole reason why he ...

    - Y/N. - Fury’s voice took her from her own mind. Looking around, the room was vacant except for her, Fury, Wanda and Monica. She was so focused on her memories, she hadn’t even noticed the remains of them leave the room. - I told you not to go on that mission.

    - I don’t work for you, Fury. Besides, I’ve been there before, I was an asset to the meeting. 

    - You’re the sole benefactor of whatever powers your father had at SHIELD, if you die then Ross inherits it. If you ever disobey direct orders, I’ll ...

    - You’ll what? - Y/N interrupted him. - Tell my father?

    - You might not want to accept he’s your father, but he is and you have to deal with the responsibilities that come with being his daughter. 

    - Fine. -  Y/N stretched a fake smile on her face as Fury left her, Wanda and Monica alone in the briefing room. 

    - Alright  ... give them to me. - Monica extended her hands towards Y/N. - The letters that were in the file and you clearly took.

    - It’s his letters. I don’t think anyone has any business reading them. 

    - I’ll give them to him then. Hand them over, Y/N. - Y/N begrudgingly handed the letters over to Monica who got up. - You let yourself be easily haunted by the past. If I let you keep these, you will never give them to him. You can’t even look at him.

    - Yes, I can. 

    - Oh really? - Monica crossed her arms. - Then come with me and hand them to him. 

    - That’s just mean, Monica.

    - We’ll talk about this later, Y/N. - she pointed at him before exiting the room. Y/N slouched against her chair, looking at the ceiling above her. 

    -  Don’t worry. - Wanda reassured, hand on her shoulder. - I did what you made me promise I’d do back in Westview.

    - Thanks, Wan. 

    - You’ll be fine ... We always have to be fine isn’t it? - she looked straight ahead with a sadness which showed all she herself had lost despite having recovered the twins and Vision. So much for a nice suburban life.

    - So ... he won’t remember?

    - He won’t remember a thing.

[nestasgalpal]

The art of antagonism

Fixing ACOSF part 7

Masterlist | AO3

Summary: It’s Starfall, the most beautiful night of the year in the Night Court. Nesta is with her friends, dancing with them, and not even his unexpected appearence will ruin it.

A/N: I AM SORRY IT TOOK ME MONTHS. I got a job and didn’t have that much time. There was so much these two needed to discuss... and there is more coming in the next chapters (WHICH I HAVE DRAFTED BECAUSE THEY WERE SO MUCH EASIER TO WRITE THAN THIS ONE). Anyway, here is the next part of Fixing A Court of Gaslighting.

Tagging:  @gwynriel​ @zoyaslai​ @clolikescloquetas​ @amelievrstr​  @t8astr8ng @wanderlustlastsforever @saltydreamcollector​ @lordlorcan​ @esrahiba​ @queenestarcheron​  @jemstan300​ @nessiantrashh​ @azrielandhawkesropebunny  @frosted-crackers  @mireillemystique​ @pataytayo​ @968sunflower968​ @caram267​ @jainadurron​ @darkshadowqueensrule​ @amphiptree @finae-bookshelf​ @niytavia​ @brainlessfruit​ @dontgetsalmonella​ @messyhairday-me​ @sunsummoner​  @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens​ @wannawriteyouabook​ @psychoticminx​ @misswonderflower​  @drielecarla​ ​

The night was even more beautiful now that Nesta laid on the cold grass, Gwyn dancing nearby with her feet bare. Stars rained over them.

The training yards on the rooftop took most of the space, but there was enough room for the three of them to lay on the soft grass that started to grow with the early spring weather. Emerie was not with them yet. Her sister said Azriel would go sought her, but it was taking him a little longer than she had anticipated. 

Gwyn sang. She did so quietly enough that Nesta only grasped some of it, the soft melody flowing between them. Her friend literally glowed covered in stardust, like a goddess who looked down to the city of light and shone for its citizens. Her presence there -out of the library at night- a blessing to them.

Nesta got up from her mat and joined the improvised dance to the rythm of Gwyn’s light mutter. Nesta made her twirl and then catched her in her arms, laughing at how clumpsy the manuver came out. Gwyn laughed too, and Nesta knew she had made the right decision when she left Feyre’s party.

She wanted to spend her first Starfall -the first Starfall she would remember- with her new friends.

Stars zoomed in the sky, fast and beautiful. Nesta let Gwyn spin her and then take her hand, the other one now resting in the priestess shoulder. They moved together in harmony, not performing the choreography or any real dance she knew, yet swinging with grace.

Then, Emerie arrived. Only it was not Az who brought her to them, but Rhysand.

Nesta’s joy vanished in a heartbeat. What was he doing here? Emerie run to them. She looked unharmed, smiling as she approached and waving her hand with excitement. Nesta walked past her, straight to Rhysand.

“Feyre asked me to bring her here” he explained before Nesta said a word.

“Did she?” not a single syllable was free of poison and distrust.  She knew it was a lie, her sister hadn’t asked him.

The High Lord didn’t try to deny the silent accusation. Because he didn’t really care that she knew it had been his idea -that he had asked Feyre to be the one bringing Emerie to Velaris, and she had agreed. He wanted Nesta to know that after the last fight with his mate, he had been forgiven, and her sister trusted him blindly again.

Silence didn’t have time to settle between them before Nesta found the strength in herself to answer to his silent jibe with just as much pettiness. “Well, that’s good. For a moment I thought you were here to join us. And you know, we usually don’t accept new members when they’ve threatened the life of one of us.” Nesta shrugged, her face not showing a pinch of the bad blood she felt. Her eyes did that for her, as did Rhysand’s in return.

“I already apologized for that” was all he said. Yes, he had apologized to Feyre. And to Cassian, who had been comfortably talking to him in the balcony.

But not to her. The one whose life he had threatened. He didn’t think he had to. And nobody expected him to do so either, apparently.

Facing him wasn’t something she had anticipated for tonight. She didn’t feel prepared at all.

Learning to respect herself enough to keep going with her life was not an easy path, and her sister’s mate was still the biggest obstacle she would have to face after she came to terms with herself.

Not tonight, please. Not now.

Rhysand had threatened her multiple times. And he hadn’t apologized to her once. It wasn’t fair. That much, she knew. In theory, this should be easy -facing him and demanding respect. But in practice it wasn’t. Nesta found herself struggling to keep control of her emotions, her anger, her guiltiness. There was a learned habit of believing his words to be true because everyone else seemed to agree with him and it was either accepting them as well, or be left alone to stand against him.

He had the same confident grin he had worn the day Feyre sent her here. That disgusting grim Nesta dreaded. She knew that if he had tried to look only a little more intimidating, she would have fallen back in line, accepting that she was still his prisoner in The House of Wind, a building she couldn’t escape from. But the way his confident eyes looked down on her made the mist in her mind vanish, her rage rising up like a shield -her old reliable walls.

She was done with being the only one who was held accountable for her mistakes.

A high-pitched laugh came from where Gwyn and Emerie were sharing a welcome hug. Only a few little lanterns on the floor lightened up the space, stars doing the rest.

They oozed joy as Nesta turned her back to them to face her sister’s mate again. She wanted to join her friends, but had to do this first. Because Nesta had endured too much already, and wasn’t willing to let this male ruin the most beautiful night of the year for her. She was determined to have fun with her Valkyrie sisters, so if Rhysand wanted trouble, he would have to wait.

They would have a confrontation another time, and it would be on her terms.

“You should go back to your party. You have guests.”

The High Lord nodded. His semblance was relaxed, comfortable. In control. “You do too. Though it looks like you are missing one. Do you want me to bring Elain up here as well?” Nesta fought the impulse to tighten her jaw and fists. She made herself breathe through the anger and keep her mien blank. “Get one sister, loose the other, I guess”. He shifted on his feet, his hands now in his pockets, the image of a confident male. He waved his hand to her friends behind her, a smile on his lips that didn’t meet his eyes. “I’ll never forget Elain’s tears when she came back from visiting you that last time”.

“And I’ll never care about what you think of that.”

Nesta tried to make her words heavy with venom. Unmoving stone against his constant pushing. She intended for them to sound like a final statement. But truth can’t always be bent like that, sometimes it flungs free. Against her will, her voice was light, syllables one after the other coming out of her mouth as naturally as breathing.

Not cold, not welcoming or tinted with any hue of sentiment at all. Her words were a simple and transparent truth: She didn’t care what he said, what he thought of her or what he did. She never would, no matter how many traps and punishments Rhysand devised for her, or how strong his High Lord abilities affected her psyche. There was no room inside her left to care about this male in front of her anymore. Specially, not now.

Because he would never change who he was, or how far he was willing to go to see his goals materialize. Nesta was beyond caring, anyway. Beyond trying to earn his pardon.

Nesta told herself she was the master of her own fate, as her sisters and every other person in her live controlled their own. She repeated the words like a mantra, an exercise to convince herself and keep her cool. Whatever I want, I can work for it with or without his approval.

Nesta took in the image presented in front of her. The delicate embroidery of his tunic, the carefully styled hair. The overall perfection of his appearance. And concluded that he wasn’t worth the effort of coming up with witty insults. He simply needed to leave her party and go back to his own.

“You’ve made your loved ones cry a fair amount as well, and they found a way to forgive you. If what you’ve done to others can be excused, then I’m sure my sisters and I will find a way to work things out as well. We are long-lasting creatures now, We are in no hurry.”

As his only answer, Rhysand fixed his gaze behind her again and smiled, a wicked grin darkening his beautiful features. Emerie’s burst of laughter echoed in the rooftop. He kept his stare there. Nesta could almost hear his brain at work, but didn’t get a clear reading of his thoughts.

There was a weird feeling about his presence there, the way he kept looking at the illyrian and the priestess. He was monitoring them, as if making sure they were okay. That’s when it clicked -the reason why her sister’s mate had insisted on winnowing Emerie himself. He didn’t travel all the way to Illyria to provoke her, he was actually making sure Nesta wasn’t a threat to her friend’s safety.

He had already warned her once about that on that same spot of the House of Wind.

Why did he insist on making of Nesta such a monster in his mind?

The only reason she even met her Valkyrie sisters was him locking her in that damned house carved in the mountain. It had been his idea to make her work in the library with the priestess. It had been an order of his that she went to Windhaven to train. Why did he insist of making a threat of her even when he was the one moving her around and controlling her every movement?

“Haven’t you taken enough from me already?” she asked when the silence became too much, anger rising in her stomach and burning all the way up to her throat.

She really needed to know. Because as days went on, she started questioning what did her sister’s mate even expect from her. To what end had he engined this plan? What did he want from her before he let her out? That’s if he ever intended to do so...

Does he only want to see my spirit broken?

Nesta was well aware of how her choices had hurt Feyre. Cassian. Even Elain. But what had she even done to him? Why did he go around pretending her life and her future belonged to him so fiercely she had almost believed it as well? Why was he so convinced of his entitlement to grant her a pardon or not, even when the rest had already made peace with her?

That, she didn’t understand. That was precisely what made her shake and be scared of the future. That she didn’t know. That she didn’t know if the rest did either. That they saw and heard him act like that... and didn’t say anything.

That was what made her fall and fall again under his power. Whenever she felt like his treatment was unfair, she looked around and realized she was the only one who had a problem with it. She doubted herself, how reliable her own judgement was.

But she had to come out of that darkness.

She had to, or else she would really crumple up and perish once and for all.

When Rhysand looked back at her, he scanned her features as if she were a puzzle, a mystery. His own personal challenge that didn’t exist beyond his own perception. A hint of pity shone for a second in his pupils, then disappeared as if it had never been there.

“Don’t you think you deserved some of it?” he asked back. When Nesta didn’t answer, he decided to explain it to her with the condescension only those who didn’t belong to his circle knew from him. “You don’t even know how deeply your actions have hurt her. How much damage you have caused.” Rhysand gave a step closer. Nesta didn’t back down. “She keeps forgiving you because she’s already imagined what her life looks like with you by her side and wants it desperately. You prey on her innocence -on her unconditional love. You take advantage of it and fail her time after time.” The High Lord was gritting his teeth “Yet she keeps coming back to you. I refuse to allow this behavior from you anymore. I must put an end to it before you drag her down with you to that well you seem unable to escape. If you want to be miserable, so be it. But I won’t allow you to ruin my mate as well.”

Oh.

So that’s it.

It hurt. It hurt way more than she could have anticipated. Nesta had spent countless hours looking between her memories for the most painful ones. For those times when she had been so awful there was no room for redemption. She had been the first one to use them against herself in those long nights of self-loathing. Nesta had gone over and over those times when she picked on her sisters, she had memorized every insult thrown at them until the words lost their meaning and no longer could be used to hurt herself.

Nesta thought nobody could use that against her better than she already did and make her hate who she was more than she ever did. So it hurt to listen to Rhysand and understand what was hidden behind his words. There was an underlying truth that she had never even considered. A new layer to the High Lord’s character that she had never known. Yet suddenly, it all made sense.

And it hurt.

It hurt to realize that Rhysand wouldn’t stop trying to keep her away from Feyre because he was jealous. He was jealous that it didn’t matter what he gave her -a crown, a court, the world itself... Feyre wouldn’t have the life she wanted until she had her sister by her side to enjoy it. It almost made her laugh, hadn’t it been the cause for almost a year of missery.

It was sad and pathetic to realize this male was using every weapon at his disposal to ruin her because of his own insecurity, his own fear of not being enough.

She had been suffering this nightmare for him. For his ego.

“I did kind of deserve this” she answered with honesty, her arms spreading at her sides to point at the space. Her open sky prison. “The first time a High Lord used a fake law to manipulate me and my family to his will, I was unprepared. But this second time, I kind of deserved it. I should have known.”

Rhysand’s eyes widened as she spoke, but Nesta wasn’t finished yet “Do you get like a manual, or something, when you sit on the throne? How to trick stupid girls into giving up their freedom? How to keep them quiet when they refuse?” she mocked.

His eyes were voids of blackness that seemed to swallow her, his dark essence flinging free around them. To say his performance was a threat would be a stretch. It wasn’t a threat, it was the preparation for an attack. The scent of his anger hit her senses and almost knocked her out, a death promise painted in his fine features.

Don’t you ever compare me to him, he growled in her mind.

But Nesta had faced death too many times to be scared of it anymore.

She took a step closer as a savage grin formed in her lips. Unafraid. Because she was sure his threats would become true, and the thought of it made her shiver. But so would hers, if the male in front of her even considered hurting Feyre, her friends of Nesta herself again. “Then stop doing the same shit he did”.

Her words came out as a whisper, soft in the way a lion’s fur was to the touch. A softness that didn’t make its jaws even slightly less dangerous when it prayed upon its victim.

And they hit their mark.

Rhysand’s hands were fists

Nesta was already preparing her next jibe. She wanted him to leave, to stay away from her. But if he refused, then she was ready to fight him to filth. To make him see for himself how hard it was to make peace with everything she needed to mend, every person she had hurt, when he kept going after her for the fun of it. She would make him go through it if that was the only option he left her.

But when Nesta met his gaze, she thought she saw a kind of hurt deep in his pupils so familiar that she wondered if the black in his eyes was only reflecting her own. “I only want to protect my mate” he said at last, his eyes endlessly tired now. She would have pitied him. Had he ever granted Nesta a little consideration before dismissing her as a monster, as a threat, as the cause of every single inconvenience in their lives, she would have pitied him. It wasn’t the case.

“Then go sought her, and leave me alone.” 

He did. Without any last comment to torment her evening, without a last threatening glare to let her know that she had won this fight, but not the war, Rhysand went for the stairs, and got lost in the darkness.

Nesta gave a step back, not wanting to turn her back to the stairs... just in case. Only when she made sure her sister’s husband wasn’t coming back and her erratic breathing became normal again, she went to meet her friends.

Gwyn was barefoot and sited on the ground, her hair all the colors except the auburn shade the Mother had given her. Emerie was standing by her side.

“Is everything okay?” the illyrian asked.

Nesta forced herself to open her mouth in a broad smile for her friends to see.

“Yeah, it was just a misunderstanding” they didn’t look convinced “Family stuff. Sometimes it’s hard to draw the line between family business and the obligations of one’s job, you know.”

Emerie’s hand found hers and gave it a tug. “Well, whenever it becomes too much to handle, come find us.”

“You can always count on us, Nesta. We’ll be here for you.”

Gwyn raised from the grass with some help from her hands. She moved her arms around them, her lips forming a smile that showed all her teeth. When Nesta thought the redhead was going to hug them, she opened her fists in their faces, stardust  flowing from them and into their bodies.

Emerie coughed, Nesta only burst out a loud laugh that resonated in every balcony of the House of Wind. She had been taken by surpise. And it had been fun.

Nesta forgot about every other person she had met that night and the presence of those two females by her side became so obvious and indubitable, she almost cried for a second time.

Her friends. She was going to spend Starfall with her friends. The family she had chosen. Who had also chosen her.

Emerie was giggling too, but she hadn’t appreciated the surprise as much as Nesta. “Why did you do that?” she reprimanded Gwyn, the amusement impossible to hide.

“You were too clean. I think I have stardust even under the tunic” Gwyn said. Her slippers, abandoned in a corner, were for sure coated with light blue glimmer.

“They are spirits, Gwyneth Berdara!” Emrie corrected. “It’s not dust.”

Was it not? Nesta didn’t know about that, or how spirits could take this form at all. She had always imagined ghosts as ethereal beings, not shooting stars.

“Doesn’t matter, let’s just enjoy the night. You probably don’t want to be bored by a history lesson” she joked.

“I do.” Nesta sat on the grass, Gwyn was quick to follow. “I want you to tell me everything about it, please”.

Emerie had to give in and let the smile she was hiding shine on her lips. Pretending she wasn’t as eager to share legends and stories about her Court with them as they were to hear her talk, Emerie started her tale.

Stories about our Court, she corrected herself. Because it was now a home for the three of them.

[hpdabbles]

If your taking prompts I would like to ask for Naruto being corrected on Remus' name and other things in that AU.

Naruto vetoes Dog-man's childhood home the moment he saw the bland dead stare the older man gave the house. It was the same kind of look Sai gave the old Root bunker they had been assign to clean out when it was discovered sometime after Pain's attack.

He knows some people think emotions shouldn't get in the way of missions but Naruto also knew those same people would gladly go back to war for no other reason than bloodlust.

If they could give in to the desire to harm others just because then Naruto had the right to throw a fit in the Hokage's office until Sai was removed from the mission and didn't have to go back.

He also had the same right to do the same about Grimmauld Place. The woman in pink that Naruto had forgotten the name of- he mentally refers to her as Pink Lady- had pursed her lips but Naruto had complete control of the decisions thanks to the Honor Clash.

The rest of the council had gone into a frenzy once they realized that Naruto had won and it took 'Emus cautiously suggesting everyone is bonded by an Unbreakable Vow so the knowledge of the deal wouldn't be able to leave the room as to avoid encouraging others from fighting their way out of the law, in order to calm them down.

Naruto didn't care one way or the other as long as the deal for Dog-man remained.

There was a lot of paperwork that had to be filled but 'Emus took care of it for them after Dog-man claimed him as his "Vassal" which meant 'Emus had the right to make choices for them or something.

The three had walked out together with Dog-man's arm wrapped around Naruto's shoulders like he was afraid the ninja would disappear if he didn't. Naruto didn't mention it though because even he knew when to keep his mouth shut about something.

Pink Lady then offered a Potter property in the far countryside of the country, practically isolated. She was upset that they refuse to use a "noble and ancient ancestral home" but Dog-man looked far happier to not have to go back it was worth making her life just the slightly more complicated finding them a new place.

The moment Naruto saw it he knew it was home. It was a large manor with a dense forest, and while the trees weren't as large as the Leaf's nor as bright, Naruto didn't care.

He was finally back among trees.

The building itself was covered in overgrown rose vines and wild grass. It's also rather old, more dust and possibly molds than wood but it made him happy so the three sign the forms, and Pink Lady left them to settle.

Naruto chooses the last bedroom on the right side of the building because it's closest to the forest and something in his chest settles when he throws the window wide open to listen to the rustling of the leaves.

He leans on the windowsill, watching the light die over the trees and enjoying the breeze brushing his hair. It's peaceful, with no sounds of cars or the bustle of a suburb. Just nature.

That's how 'Emus finds him two hours later.

"Are you hungry Harry?"

"Straved!" Naruto chirps turning his head to the man who smiles at him shyly.

"Sirius and I are thinking of going to the muggle town for some food. Would you like to come with us?"

"Will there be ramen?" Naruto doubts it as he hadn't been able to find one in his old home and he lived in the city. But it doesn't hurt to ask.

"No, I'm sorry I don't think there is. But I saw a pizzeria if you prefer?"

"That sounds good 'Emus." He hops away from the window, frowning slightly at the distance. It seems no matter his life he is doomed to be short.

"I've been meaning to talk about that. You do know my name is Remus? Remus Lupin." The man says following the energetic child down the large but aged hallway to the sitting room Dog-man is waiting in. They travel by fire here which is the strangest but most interesting form of chakra he's ever seen.

"I know." Naruto chirps grinning up at the man with mischievous glee "I like 'Emus so I'm going to call you that. I used to call my older master Pervy Sage and nothing made me change that either."

"...I see." The other jinchuriki responds in a tone that means he doesn't understand anything but is too worried to ask for more details. Naruto gets that a lot.

"Master?" Dog-man questions making Naruto's smile impossibly wide even as a hint of grief bleeds into it. He knows in this world it's not common to refer to their teachers as masters.

"He taught me how to fight so I call him master. He was a master of his field so I call him that to respect for his title."

"Will we ever get to meet this great master?"

"He's dead"

Dog-man's grey eyes dim slightly "I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure he would be proud of how far you've come from his teachings"

"Thank you." Naruto dips his head to hide his blush. This body is just as expressive as his old one but somehow his checks tended to dye pink far easier.

The three stand in silence for a moment. The wizards were awkward with each other due to the ten years they have been separated, with all the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. Meanwhile, Naruto, who dedicated ten years of his new life to finding them now didn't know what to do that he had found them.

He like to make them his friends but their interactions were weary and cautious as if though the two men didn't know how to speak to him. They also saw him as a young child even though Naruto is mentally twenty-seven (including the ten years he's lived as Harry Potter) which made things even stranger.

"You said something about pizza?" Dog-man finally breaks looking through his now cut and wash hair to offer 'Emus a slight strain grin.

"Yes. I know there was one when I went earlier for cleaning supplies. We can rent a room at the hotel there until we get this place ready to live in while we are there." 'Emus looks slightly relieved at having something to grasp on to turning his body to face Dog-man, with his chakra flashing into a warm hue.

Naruto tilts his head studying it, squinting his eyes when Dog-man's own chakra warms in response. "Are you two together?"

Both men go alarmingly red and Naruto finds himself smirking at their stumbling babble of denials. "I don't mind if you are. I like girls and boys if you think I have an issue with you being both males."

"Oh." 'Emus blinks while Dog-man suddenly finds the rotting wallpaper very interesting. "You're awful young to know that about yourself aren't you?"

"Not really." Naruto shrugs wondering if they will have a problem with him liking both like the Dursleys did. Not that it would matter or change anything, but it would disappoint him. "Do you have a problem with it? My uncle and aunt did. They said it was unnatural"

"No of course not." Dog-man jumps in, frowning. "It may be strange to a muggle but same-sex marriage has been legal since the early 1800s in the wizarding world. It's...just surprising you have it figured out so young is all. Right, Remus?"

"Yes, of course. I'm glad you shared that with us Harry. Thank you." The other man sounds sincere and Naruto can't help but give him a grin so wide it makes his cheeks hurt a little. "Just so you know, I like both too."

Naruto knew there was a reason he liked his fellow Jinchuriki.

"I just like men," Dog-man adds shrugging his shoulders as if though it meant nothing but the way he glances at 'Emus from the corner of his eye says otherwise. " Since we are going to be living together from now on maybe we can get to know each other over a nice pizza."

Naruto agrees though he is a bit amusing that neither man fully out denied wanting to be together but they need time to reconnect and that he could understand.

"Let's go get something and then we can do proper introductions." The ninja chirps, reaching out to grab onto 'Emus sleeve while Dog-man lights the fire.

"We already introduce ourselves." 'Emus says amused

"Yeah, but it wasn't proper so it doesn't count"

"How are they proper?"

"You have to say your name, likes, dislikes, hobbies, and dream for the future."

"What if you don't have a dream?" Dog-man says in a joking manner but his charka gives away his sadness and his uncertainty. Years being blamed for a crime he didn't commit, his youth rob from him in a way that can never return has done this.

Naruto waits until they lock eyes in order to answer.

"Then we find a new one. Together."

[levis-little-nuggie]

nuggiiiee!! i wanna request something if it's alright with u!! <3 "10. “If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god! You’re on the couch for a month!!”"with levi and nsfw if you're up for it 👀 they/them pronouns pretty please ily 🥰🥰

Peach!! 💜💜 I'm SO SORRY for how long this took me to write 😭 but I hope you enjoy!! 💜💜

Warnings: Reader uses they/them pronouns with male genetalia, bottom!Levi, penetration, not sure what else to add but will add more if need be 💜💜

10. “If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god! You’re on the couch for a month!!” NSFW with Levi

You had an agreement with the brothers. Once a week, every Wednesday after dinner, the bathroom with the giant bath tub had your name on it for three glorious hours. You never really needed the fully allotted time but it was more for security in case you lost track of time.

Every Wednesday was like clockwork. Dinner would be over, you'd get all your bath supplies and a book or your handheld gaming system and head to the bathroom. Lucifer would be there to put up the barrier on the door keeping everyone out and you'd have your peace in the most luxurious bathtub you'd ever been in.

Levi had tried mentioning it before, more like he’d hinted it through stutters and a fierce blush before giving up and changing the subject, that his bathtub was just as nice. You'd even pieced together that he seemed to want you to take a bath in his room. Your interest was piqued, but also didn't want to ask him about it in case you'd misinterpreted.

Sitting by the tub, you turned the faucet and waited for the water to heat up. You waited.

And waited.

And waited.

20 minutes later and the water was still barely warm as it ran from the faucet. You sent out a group text to the HOL brothers.

Y/N: Is anyone using the hot water?

Beel: Belphie and I finished cleaning the dishes a while ago but we didn't use that much.

Asmo: Oh Y/N, is the water too cold? I'll come warm you up~~

Mammon: Oi leave my human alone! If anyone's going to warm them up it'll be me!

Satan: You know they're probably naked right? This is their weekly bathing ritual.

You pulled your robe tighter around your body as if any of them could see you.

Y/N: I'm not naked!

Asmo: Darling that's not how you take a bath, but I'd be more than happy to show you how~~

Mammon: Asmo! Don't you dare!

Satan: Oh sure, are you going to run in to save them?

Lucifer: Enough.

Lucifer: Y/N, there's a problem with the water?

Y/N: It's been almost 20 minutes and it's barely lukewarm.

Lucifer: has anyone heard from Levi?

~~

Meanwhile,

The otaku cackled as the water ran cold from his faucet, following along in the group chat. He'd successfully wasted all the hot water. Drafting up a private text outside the chat, he bit his lip and hesitated with his thumb over the "Send." His face was warm, the aquarium tank reflected the reddish hue across his cheeks.

"How are they able to talk about Y/N like that, about being n....nak..." the word died in his throat as he felt his sin stir. Why wasn't he given at least a smidgen of the confidence they had? Why was it so hard for him to be upfront with you, to make a move like he'd seen his brothers do so many times before.

"Henry would do it, he'd have the confidence to go after someone who'd caught his eye. If he can go after them, so can I!" With newfound confidence, Levi sent the message and pushed his chair back to his computer desk and drummed his fingers on the surface.

~~

Over in the bathroom, you were completely unaware of the meltdown the otaku brother was currently going through and followed the chats as they came in. The boys kept talking but you weren't getting any closer to figuring out what happened with your hot water.

And then you noticed a separate text come in.

Levi: the hot water still works in my room

"Unbelievable," you scoffed then snorted in laughter. He had used up all the hot water and now was trying to coax you into taking a bath in his room. You weren't sure where his confidence came from but you weren't about to lose out on your Wednesday night bath time. Tying the bathrobe tighter around you, you gathered your stuff and padded down to his room, knocking before you walked in.

Levi had his hands in his hair, his chair spinning but quickly stopped himself as you entered, his face a bright red. He couldn't look you in the eyes. Sure enough as you neared the tub, it was filled with steaming hot water, just like he knew you liked it. Dropping in a bath bomb, you untied the robe, looking over your shoulder and smirking when you saw he was still watching you.

"I didn't know I'd have an audience, Levi." He yelped and turned his chair to face the desk and buried his face in his hands. He was muttering and all you could make out was "bad idea" and "so stupid." Clicking your tongue behind your teeth, you took out your handheld gaming device to power it on. You untied your robe and let it fall to the ground.

Levi heard the familiar tune of your device turning on and snuck a glance over at you, but snapped back his computer screen. He knew you'd be nude for your bath, but he wasn't expecting to see that much of you; of your legs, the expanse of your back, and the curve of your hips and your ass. He gulped, shifting in his seat as more of him started to wake up. For a moment, he listened to the game music and water rippling around from your movements and mentally debated if he should leave or not. Your eyes caught movement from him, frowning as he got up and headed for his door.

"Wait," you called out and he halted, body frozen but not turning around and not responding. You licked your lips and spoke, voice soft, afraid he'd run away. "I was hoping we could play together." Your request was innocent enough but the words, coming from you, made him flinch.  He slowly turned around, eyes looking everywhere but at the tub, a hand scratching the back of his neck.

"P-play with me?" His mind short-circuited as he assumed you meant you wanted to play with him, in the bathtub, naked. He gulped, mouth going dry. "W-why uh, why would you want to p-play with me? I'm just a gross otaku Y/N, I'm not worth playing with. How could you-"

"Levi," you held up your device, pointing to it, "I meant Pokemon Shield." His lips formed an "o" as the realization struck him and he hung his head, a hand coming up to hide his tomato-red face.

"Y-yeah okay, I can do that," he shuffled back to his desk and opened the game, the light from his monitors casting a glow over his warm skin.

Some time had passed, both of you had collected more pocket monsters and filled out your respective pokedex, made various curry dishes, and spent time playing with each other's mons. Gearing up on supplies, you both decided to go den hopping to catch more powerful and rare mons.

"Hey Levi," your voice called out, shifting in the water to rest your arms over the lip of the tub, you paused the game and tossed your device onto your robe. He hummed in response, eyes still glued to the monitors. "Leeeeeviiii," you called out again, resting your cheek on your arm waiting for him to turn around.

Feeling your stare, he paused his game and turned around, eyes widening to see your shifted posture, your eyes lidded and a soft smile on your lips. "What, ah, what's up?" The way you were looking at him, he felt his pants only tighten in response. He had dreamed to see you look at him with the soft, loving, accepting expression you were currently wearing. He wondered what other facial expressions you could make, just for him. His hands clenched the fabric of his pants on his thighs, but he couldn't take his eyes off your face. You couldn't tell in the dim light of the room but you swore his eyes darkened, the thought making you shiver even though the water was still comfortably warm. You lowered your voice and added a slight husk to sound sultry, testing out a theory.

“Did you use up all the hot water on purpose? To get me to bathe in your room?” Your feet splashed in the water a few times to emphasize your question; a subtle hint but you were watching his reactions. The glow from the monitors highlighted his Adam’s apple bobbing with another gulp and you found yourself smirking. Stretching an arm out in front of you, you beckoned the demon over with a come-hither motion. Whether he knew it or not, Levi actually started making his way over to the tub, kneeling down in front of you, his eyes a darkened amber. He stayed silent, the blush on his cheeks growing more evident giving away his ulterior motive.

“Oh Levi, if you wanted me naked in your room, all you had to do was ask.” Pushing against the floor of the tub, you reached out to plant your lips against his, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling yourself with him as he gasped, jumping back in shock. Not wasting the opportunity, you plunged your tongue into his mouth and moaned against his lips in a silent plead for him to kiss you back. As you brushed your tongue against his, you flicked your tongue against the slit in his own, and he started responding instantaneously.

Your body was laying in an awkward angle and started to slip back into the tub. As you felt yourself being pulled backwards, Levi moved with you, his own hands wrapping around you, fingers dancing around the back of your neck and along your waist. His mouth ravaged your own in a flurry of kisses, his own tongue bypassing yours, thrusting itself right to the back of your throat.

He stuttered your name and you fought to control your breathing. “Y/N are you sure? W-with me?” You responded, nodding feverishly, a lust-induced fog clouded your mind chanting yes over and over. You pulled yourself up to kiss him again and he whined against your lips. “But I’m just a gro-”

“If you call yourself a gross otaku again, I’m going to climb out of this tub and edge you until my three hour bath time is over.” His cheeks burned a bright red, a moan fell from his lips, and he allowed himself to melt into you. You lost your footing in the tub and found yourself slipping down. Levi’s arms wrapped tighter around you as he crawled over you, laying you down in the tub, his clothing soaking up the water. You shivered as his hands grazed your torso, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin making you moan as your own hands worked to remove his shirt. Nipping at your lips, Levi pulled back with a small chuckle.

“If you wanted me naked Y/N, all you had to do was ask.” You stuck your tongue out at him as he teased you with your own words and tossed his shirt off to the side, landing on the floor with a plop and descended back onto your mouth. Raking your nails down his torso, Levi sucked in a breath through his teeth and instinctively ground his hips into yours, his erections evident through his pants. Clutching the waistband of the offending material, your fingers fumbled looking for the clasp, humming in victory as you successfully undid the buttons and zipper. Levi lifted his hips helping you push down his pants as far as you could before taking over and removing his pants the rest of the way, tossing them over near his shirt.

Now that he was hovering over you, fully naked and erect, Levi was starting to have second thoughts and it was evident in the hesitation in his face. Grabbing his hips, you thrust your pelvis against his, your grinding against his and you both moaned from the friction.

“I want this Levi, I want you.” Your words renewed his confidence and he rolled his hips down into yours, drinking in your moans with his lips sealed over yours. With his tongue in your mouth, this time you closed your lips around it and bobbed your head, sucking on his tongue. His eyes flew open in shock to see your eyes hooded, staring back into his. He didn’t even notice your hands until they were wrapped around both of him, sandwiching your own erection between his and started pumping in tandem with your mouth on his tongue.

You drank in his reactions as his eyes rolled back, moans and whines crawled out from his throat, his hips bucking into your hands. Releasing his tongue with a pop, he leaned in to lap at the saliva dripping from your mouth, down your chin, and you littered his throat with love bites, teeth nipping and tongue soothing the skin.

“Y/N, please,” he whined and you slowed your hands, coaxing him to continue, humming against his throat.

“Yes Leviathan?” You asked while pressing kisses along the column of his throat as his voice trembled above you.

“I w-want to, want y-you to, to,” his face was beat red as you pulled away to look at him. He was averting his gaze, seemingly ashamed of what he wanted. Releasing one of your hands, he looked at you with wide eyes, almost worried you were about to reject him but was pleasantly surprised when your hand came up to cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb along the tender skin.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Levi? Is that it?” You felt his cocks twitch against yours and you smiled to offer reassurance. “That sounds like a perfectly normal request and I would be more than happy to oblige,” you leaned up to kiss his forehead and he mewled. You had to resist the urge to snort from how adorable it was and instead littered kisses around his face. Your hand moved back down to grip him, your fingers dancing down his entrance but found yourself blocked by, his tail? When had he shifted into his demon form?

Oh. That’s why he looked so embarrassed. Mindful not to tease him about it, you pressed chaste kisses along the skin of his neck as your hands worked his shafts, paying more attention to the gestures and movements that had him reacting more, louder, trying to coax more vocal reactions from the demon. Levi’s arms were losing their grip on the rim of the tub so you ushered him to sit up, shifting positions till he was sitting in your lap. His tail moved to wrap around his erections and he lowered himself. You positioned the tip of your cock against his entrance and looked up at his face to read any signs of hesitation or anything that might tip you off that he didn’t want to do this.

Levi felt your eyes on him and he flashed a smirk, thrusting himself down into your lap, fully sheathing yourself inside of him. You threw your head back at the sudden heat that gripped your length, your hands flying to grip his hips as you muttered a string of curses. He didn’t give you much time to adjust before he started moving, raising his hips till just the tip was inside and thrusted himself back down, eliciting a moan to tear its way from your throat. Your mind went blank as his pace increased, your grunts and moans intertwined as the water splashed about, your fingers dug into his hips and his hands gripping your shoulders to keep him steady.

Your name fell from his lips like a mantra, increasing in pitch as his pace became sporadic and uneven, his grip tightening around you driving you mad as you neared your own orgasm. Moving your arms to the edge of the tub to give you leverage, you rolled your hips up to meet his thrusts. Levi’s body froze as his orgasm crashed through him, his muscles clamping down on you pushing you over the edge, releasing into him and following him into the orgasmic afterglow.

You both fought to catch your breath, Levi reverted back to his human form and your arms wrapped around him, fingers running through his hair and pressing kisses to the side of his head. Slowly, his hands moved to hug you back, accepting your embrace and nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. Feeling your breathing and heart beats slow, you hummed and readjusted your positions, flinching when you realized the water was no longer clean.

“We’re probably going to need to take a shower, Levi.”

“Yep.”

You both were reluctant to move but eventually you found yourselves making your way down the halls towards the communal bathroom and hopped into the shower to get cleaned off. Halfway into the shower, Levi pounced causing you to laugh, accepting that it was his turn to take control this time. Before you could get any further, there was a cough from outside the shower and you both froze, watching as Lucifer stood there, arms crossed and foot tapping. Levi’s arms tightened around you, his sin of envy showing itself as a growl rumbled low in his throat.

“Relax, I’m leaving. I was checking on the hot water but it seems to be working fine.” The eldest brother made his way to the door but before leaving and closing the for behind him, Lucifer turned to glare at you both, his crimson eyes glowing with the promise of punishment. “If either of you use up all the hot water again, I swear to Diavolo you will both be sleeping on separate couches for a month.” Lucifer slammed the door and you both settled for a quick shower, faces burning with both embarrassment and unresolved , to avoid that punishment.

[ratedbangtann]

Divided; KNJ

𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗕𝗶𝗴𝗛𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴; 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙬 𝙞𝙩 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮? You just landed your dream job, fought through the audition process to be here when one Kim Namjoon takes an interest in you. Perhaps you let him get a little too close... And now, you’re in more trouble than you bargained for...

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Pairing Kim: Namjoon x Reader Warnings: Angst, graphic depictions of violence and distressing scenes. Word Count: 9.5k Please consider supporting me here: Tip Jar & Commissions ********************

Never, in your entire life, had you felt as loved as you did with Namjoon. Waking up next to him was the bliss, the peace you had been seeking for years.

You woke up entangled in a mess of limbs and sheets, laying on his bare chest much like you had been when you had fallen asleep. Looking up at him you smiled fondly at the light snores that left his mouth, hanging open a little. His hair looked completely dishevelled; whether that was from sleep or your hair pulling antics the night before, you couldn't be certain. But he just looked so peaceful.

The hand that lay across his chest started tracing patterns along the ridges of his muscles, feeling how soft and smooth the skin was. You noticed the light trail of hair from his bellybutton down to where the sheets covered his modesty; he wasn't a hairy man, just enough to sculpt some definition.

You hadn't even noticed that the snoring had stopped, and Namjoon's eyes were watching your fingers trace pictures into his skin. He didn't want to disturb you; perhaps this was the only time to relax you had had in a long time, he thought.

Until your eyes flickered back up to him, you weren't aware he had woken up.

"Oh... Sorry, did I wake you?" you whispered.

"I don't mind," he said with a smile, sleep making his voice groggy first thing in the morning. "How did you sleep?"

"Better than I have in a long time," you blushed. He chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around you and pulling you further up the bed to lay your head on his shoulder.

"I don't want to go to the studio today," he said firmly. "I want to lay here, with you, and do nothing."

"Well, good job I don't have to be in today then, hmm?"

"And suddenly, I've got a nasty tickle in my throat. I suppose I'll have to stay home." He grinned from ear to ear, his dimples sinking into his cheeks. You laughed, pulling the sheets up over your shoulder to cover you.

Breakfast was an interesting event; everybody in the dorm was suspiciously quiet, but you would catch them sharing little glances with each other, or smirking at one another. You didn't feel uncomfortable just... a little wary?

Namjoon had made you both toast while the others pottered around the kitchen grabbing something to eat and sitting at the table with you. All apart from Jimin, of course, who was still showering.

"We're gonna have to get you some essentials if you're staying here for a while," Namjoon said, crunching another mouthful of toast. Taehyung and Jungkook looked at each other - another one of those looks - and snickered. You narrowed your eyes at them, wondering what was so funny about that.

"Hey, Joon-hyung; you left me all alone last night. I was hoping we could cuddle," Jungkook whined, pouting dramatically. Taehyung couldn't stop his laughter beside him.

"Sorry Kookie, my cuddles were needed elsewhere," Namjoon retorted, crumbs flying past his lips. And again, Taehyung and Jungkook looked at each other and laughed. The others smiled at each other, annoyingly sharing the same thought.

Before you could question them, Jimin walked down the hall fully dressed but still towelling his hair dry with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Ah, y/n, Namjoon! Good moooorning," he sang.

"Good morning..." you replied, hesitant and suspicious.

"Don't you look sprightly today, hmm? Good sleep?"

"Yes, thanks," Namjoon deadpanned, ignoring the shit-eating grin carved into his cheeks.

"I should think so. You must have been exhausted after uh... well, y'know," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. And then you realised.

They had all heard you. You and Namjoon, when you had... They were laughing at you both.

Your face changed colour almost instantly, a red hue painting your cheeks as your eyes widened. The others couldn't keep it in any longer, the laughter consuming the room and Namjoon scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, fighting a smile himself.

You hid your face in his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around yours, rubbing your arm with reassurance.

"Don't worry, y/n. Sounded like Namjoon did a good job. You should be proud of him!" Jimin teased. Namjoon threw his slipper at the younger, hitting him in the chest. "Namjoon-aaahhhh!" he whined, sitting down in the empty seat at the opposite end of the table.

"Eat your granola, Jimin," Yoongi scolded playfully, smirking. Jimin pouted, pouring himself a bowl.

The others decided to take the day off themselves too; by this stage in their career, they were allowed to every so often; provided it really was just once every so often. Before you had joined them for breakfast, they had all discussed it, wanting to spend the day making you feel better and hopefully coming up with a plan...

After a shower and some clean clothes - Namjoon's again - you had sat with them in the living room, talking about possible solutions.

"I need some kind of proof; that's the biggest problem. I don't have any..." you sighed.

"There's CCTV in the halls of BigHit; would they have caught him dragging you to the elevator?" Yoongi asked.

"Maybe... But, that's not sufficient proof of long-term abuse," Jin was right, it wasn't enough.

"Is it enough to go to Bang PD-nim for help getting a restraining order?" asked Tae, hopeful.

"No, we're not going to him. If he took it the wrong way, y/n could be out of a job," Namjoon said sternly.

This was useless, you were going around in circles.

"Can we please just hire a hitman?" Yoongi said, a little venom lacing his tone. He was getting frustrated too. He hated knowing his friend was in trouble, being bullied by a pathetic excuse of a man.

"Waste of money, I'll do it myself," Jungkook mumbled, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back into the couch.

"I know you're kind of joking but... please don't," you said weakly, fiddling with your hands. You hated the thought of any more violence, especially from such wonderful men.

"Sorry, y/n..." Jungkook apologised. A moment of silence passed as everyone thought once again.

"We could google it? 'How to catch a domestic abuser'?" Hoseok suggested. You flinched at the words.

Domestic abuser...

You'd never thought of Sangjun as that, never labelled him as one. But hearing it from Hoseok's mouth, you now realised that was absolutely what he was.

Any other time, you may have laughed at Hoseok's suggestion but you were getting desperate and frankly, it seemed like a good shout.

"Let me go get my laptop; left it in my car last night," Namjoon stood up, grabbing his keys from the hooks by the front door and heading down to the parking lot to grab the bag he had left in his car in a rage last night.

He opened the passenger door, grabbing the strap and slinging it over his shoulder when he heard something drop to the floor by his feet. When he looked, he saw the stupid little dash cam that had fallen off the windshield when he's punched the wheel.

He sighed, picking it up and crawling into the car to stick it back up, but again, it wouldn't stick.

"Useless," he muttered, giving up.

And then, he had an idea...

A horrible, terrible idea, but an idea nonetheless.

When he joined you again, you could see a look of anguish settled on his face. Something was wrong.

"Joonie?" you turned on the couch to look at him stood there, the rest of the guys following suit.

"You said you needed proof, right?" he asked, his tone full of regret and despair.

"Yeah..?"

"I think I know how to get some..." He held up the little dash cam he had tried to stick back in his car. He didn't have to say anything to tell you what he was thinking.

You could plant it, in your apartment. Somewhere Sangjun wouldn't notice it. You could catch him in the act; one assault would be enough to show the police, enough to get a conviction.

"That's brilliant, Joonie!" You seemed happier than you perhaps should be, naive to the reasons Namjoon was so brokenhearted about his idea.

"But... it means you'd have to go through it again. One last time..." You heard the sadness in his voice, the gravity of the proposal weighing heavy on you now. You'd have to let Sangjun beat you again. You'd have to get hurt again.

"No. No, we can't put her in that position again Joon, are you mad?" Jin stood up, angry at his brother that he'd suggest such a thing.

"Do you think I want to see her hurt, Seokjin?!" he yelled, losing his temper. "Do you have any other suggestions? Because I sure as hell don't!"

Jin stayed quiet. Logically, he knew this would work. You all did. But everyone was hesitant to admit it.

"...I'll do it," you squeaked. One last time, for a lifetime of freedom and a possible conviction; worth it. You'd taken it for so long, you could take it one last time.

"It'll be kept under control, though," said Yoongi. It confused you.

"What do you mean?"

"We'll be outside. Waiting. We'll give you a word, you'll yell it at the top of your lungs when it gets too much, if he goes too far. We'll barge in, take him down, get you and the camera out." He was so matter-of-fact, military even. No emotion, just straight talking.

"That's a good idea," Hobi praised, "that way you have control. When you think you have enough evidence you can call to us. We'll just pull him off you and get you out."

"It works..." you pondered, thinking it over. "I'll have to go back home eventually. When I do, he'll be mad... I'll need to plant the camera while he's out. He goes to the gym every day between three and five, then he comes to pick me up from work. But I don't know if his routine will change now; he doesn't know where I am, he could still be out looking for me."

"We'll watch the apartment... see if he's home, see when he leaves. But he knows my car..." Namjoon said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Doesn't know mine though. I'll watch him," Jungkook offered.

"When are we doing this?" asked Tae. Well, the longer you left it, the worse his mood will be; the worse the damage will be. He'd already be livid that you disappeared yesterday, this was time sensitive. With every passing second, Sangjun would only let his anger bubble and fester away, growing and growing...

"Today," you said confidently.

The others were stunned into silence. How could you be so willing to surrender yourself to such a horrific ordeal yet again? So soon?

"A-are you sure, sweetheart?" Joon asked, hushed and leaning over the back of the couch, taking your hands in his. "We don't need to rush this, we can take our time to really go through it and-"

"Actually, we do need to rush this..." you gripped onto his hands, looking up into his wide eyes that were so full of dread. "I just want to be free, Joonie..." you whispered.

Namjoon looked down at your hands in his, running his thumbs along the backs of yours and fighting back the tears. He couldn't bare the thought of you getting hurt again, couldn't bare the idea that you were so willing to get hurt again for your freedom.

"Today it is," he agreed, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a sweet kiss to it. "You'll be free, soon..."

****************

Sat in the backseat of Jungkook's car -  far fancier than Namjoon's - you couldn't sit still. You were terrified. Namjoon sat with you, Jin on your other side and Hoseok in the front. The others were waiting in Tae's car just a couple of blocks away.

Having switched your mobile phone on before you left the dorm, you had seen the 134 missed calls and 249 messages from Sangjun. Progressively, the texts became angrier and angrier...

Why weren't you at work?

Met your boyfriend. Where the fuck are you?

y/n, answer my calls.

Stupid girl. Get home, or I will drag you home myself.

Stop being stupid. Where the fuck are you?

ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE. NOW.

You'll regret this.

That last one sent a chill down your spine that made every hair stand to attention.

All of this was simply more evidence stacking up over and over. You took screenshots fo the messages and the call receipts and sent them to Namjoon for back up, in case something were to happen to your phone. You were trying to think of every eventuality.

"There he is," Jungkook broke the still quiet, shuffling in his seat to get a good look as you all watched Sangjun exit your apartment building and get into his car parked out front with his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He drove off down the road, turning the corner to head off to his workout. He'd be gone for an hour at least.

"Let's go," Namjoon took hold of your hand, pulling you out of the car and towards your apartment.

Inside, he helped you to set up the camera, hiding it in the bookcase next to the television in the living room. You changed out of your borrowed clothes into something of your own, handing Namjoon's back to him. It wouldn't do to have Sangjun get even more angry, seeing you in another man's clothing.

As Namjoon was about to leave, to hide back in the car until Sangjun made it home, he turned to you with a look on his face you couldn't quite read.

"What are you going to yell through the door? When it gets too much, I mean..." he asked, shuffling his feet and looking everywhere but at you.

"I'll just call to you, so... Namjoon," you shrugged. Your hands trembled with fear and you twiddled your thumbs. He nodded.

"We'll be waiting, okay?" he cupped your cheek with one hand, standing a little closer to you.

"Uh-huh," you agreed.

"I'm sorry we have to do this..." his voice broke, cracking under the weight of his regret.

"It's the only way..." you sighed.

He closed the distance between you, pressing a kiss to your lips so softly you almost couldn't be sure he had done it. At least, until he pressed a little firmer. You returned the gesture, both of you needed the moment of tenderness before the oncoming storm you knew was about to happen.

"You're so, so brave..." he pressed his forehead to yours.

"Someone once told me bravery was just another form of stupidity," you chuckled.

"Not at all. You're the bravest, but also the smartest woman I have ever met."

A moment passed, just enjoying being close to one another until you knew he needed to leave soon in order to get in position.

"You'd better go," you said reluctantly, pushing at his chest until he took a step back. He turned towards the front door, opening it up and looking back at you with one final glance.

"I love you, y/n."

"I know," you smiled. "I love you too."

And with that, he left you alone with the little dash cam rolling and recording everything...

An overwhelming feeling of dread lingered over you as you sat on the couch, waiting... You watched the clock constantly, knowing he would return around 5pm. It was 4:49pm now, and a sickness bubbled in your gut at the thought of what was to come.

You pulled the sleeves of your sweater down over your hands, the anxiety bringing chills to your skin and shivers to your spine.

It'll be over soon, you assured yourself. He'll be stopped. This is going to work.

It had to. This was your only hope, your only conceivable attempt to get out of this hell. Namjoon and his brothers were waiting, they would save you. Just a little more pain, a little more agony...

4:57pm; the sound of a key in the lock made your heart rate elevate to that of a hummingbird; this was it. You heard it shut softly and footsteps in the hall, heading to where you sat. And then they paused in the doorway.

"Y/n..." His voice sent a violent electric shock through your body, but... he didn't sound angry.

This was always worse; when he started out calm. He would always be more violent, terrifyingly so.

You turned your head to look at him, like a scared little girl getting scolded by her headmaster in his office.

"Oh my god, y/n..." he dropped his gym bag to the floor and ran to you, enveloping you in a tight hug and lifting you from the couch as he did so. Your body didn't react, simply staying limp in his arms, hands by your sides in a state of shock that he didn't immediately smack you to the floor when he saw you.

He put you down, holding onto your shoulders and rubbing his hands up and down them, searching your face for signs of any trauma or terror.

"Where were you? You had me worried sick! I went to pick you up from work and you weren't there!" he cried, worry in his tone. You looked up at him, bewildered. Why was he so worried? Why wasn't he beating the shit out of you like you had expected?

This wasn't going to plan. At all.

"I-I was just..." you stuttered, trying to think of something to say.

"You know what? It doesn't matter... I'm just glad you're okay, you're safe!" he pulled you in for another hug, crushing you to his chest but still, never hurting you. Not once.

****************

Outside, Namjoon waited. As soon as he had seen Sangjun walk into the apartment complex, he had signalled the others in Tae's car with a text message, and waited a few minutes for him to get up the first few flights of stairs before exiting the vehicles and following after him.

At the front door, Namjoon could hear everything, every word being said. The others were with him, crowding around the front door to eavesdrop.

He heard the concern in Sangjun's voice, confusing him.

"Why is he acting like that?" Taehyung whispered, voice the thoughts of every one of them. Namjoon's brow creased, overthinking.

Inside, Sangjun acted like a normal, caring boyfriend.

"Do you need anything? Something to eat? Drink? Do you wanna watch a movie?" he fussed over you, sitting you back down on the couch and crouching in front of you.

"She said he'd be angry, what the hell is he doing?" Jimin whispered.

"Wh-what if... what if she was..?" Hoseok began, but he stopped himself. The thought was too horrendous.

"What?" Namjoon whisper-shouted, still never raising his voice enough for you or Sangjun to hear from inside.

"What if she made it up?" replied Hoseok.

"No, she wouldn't..." Namjoon shook his head violently, returning to his position to eavesdrop and ignoring the idea completely. He couldn't entertain the idea that you had lied. He knew you hadn't been honest with him in the beginning, but surely you wouldn't like about this... Would you?

The niggling doubt in the back of his head was quickly silenced by Seokjin speaking the sense he needed to hear.

"You didn't see her, Hoseok. You didn't see the bruises, or watch him drag her through the halls at the studios. Don't you dare question her right now," Seokjin whispered, scorning the younger. He couldn't help getting mad at him for questioning you after what he had seen. Something was wrong, that was for sure, but it most certainly had nothing to do with you fabricating your history of abuse.

****************

Inside, Sangjun was making tea; the most mundane activity you could imagine.

"How many sugars, babe?" he called to you.

"J-just two..." you stammered, feeling more anxious now than you had before he came home. What was going on? Why was he now so concerned for you? Why was he making you bloody tea?!

But what you didn't know, was Sangjun was being clever.

He hadn't seen the camera; it was well hidden. He hadn't seen the boys; they were meticulously quiet.

But he had seen the fancy cars in the neighbourhood as he came home. He had seen the black Bentley around the block that belonged to Tae. He had seen the black Mercedes across the street that belonged to Jungkook. They looked out of place, and he recognised them from the parking garage at BigHit. He knew those license plates, those fancy models...

Sangjun wasn't stupid.

He sat down on the couch with the tea, handing you a mug.

"Do you want to talk about what happened? Where you were?" he asked, feigning concern and innocence. You shook your head no, unable to think of a lie quick enough. You were too busy figuring out what the hell he was playing at.

He was acting so normal; more normal that he had for weeks. And you'd just be MIA for 24 hours...

Your brain ticked over until finally, you realised what was happening. He knew they were waiting for him.

You didn't know if he'd seen them out of the corner of his eye on the stairs of spotted them in their cars but he knew; he had to. He was acting to get them to doubt you...

You had to do something; you had to make the switch in his head flip. You had to make him so angry, he couldn't help himself.

"A-actually, I... I need to tell you the truth. About where I was last night..." you started, your breathing shaky but you knew you had to do this. It was your only shot.

"Hmm? Okay, baby.. what happened?" he asked, placing his tea down on the little side table next to the couch.

"I-I... I stayed with BTS," you lowered your head, scared to look up at him. He was quiet though, simply taking in a long, deep breath.

"Okay... So you stayed with your friends; that's fine," he smiled through his words, but had you looked up you would have seen the anger in his eyes. You would have noticed the smile that didn't quite sit right on his face.

"Y-yeah I did but," you took a deep breath, shutting your eyes as you told him the truth, "I slept in Namjoon's bed. With him."

The more you confessed, the harder Sangjun found it to keep his cool.

"Did you fuck him?" he spat, clenching his fists and staring at you with such harsh eyes you felt the gaze burning into you without looking up at him.

One last truth to push him over the edge...

"Yes."

****************

From outside, the boys listened intently.

"What's happening?" asked Yoongi, from the back of the group.

"She's... I think something is wrong, he's making tea?" Jungkook whispered back. "Why isn't he going mad?"

Namjoon ticked over everything in his head; did he know something was wrong? No, not possible. Right?

"The cars..." Namjoon gasped, leaning back from the door with wide eyes.

"Joon?" Tae saw the look on his face; pure dread.

"He saw the fucking cars... He knows we're here," he whispered to them with anger, frustrated that they overlooked that detail. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been. Of course a Mercedes and a fucking Bentley were going to be noticed in a neighbourhood like this...

"Shh!" Jungkook hushed them, his ear pressed to the door. "She's telling him the truth..."

"What?" Namjoon snapped his head to look at Jungkook.

"She's provoking him," he deadpanned.

There was a moment of silence before all seven of the boys heard a loud smash, like pottery smashing against the floor.

Namjoon tensed immediately, the overwhelming urge to break the door in already to save his princess already becoming too much. he fought against it, knowing he needed to trust you, knowing he needed to wait. You needed the evidence; he understood that.

But the array of noises he could hear through the door were building and worsening, so startlingly distressing that he turned to Jin and Hobi with glassy eyes and grit teeth, the tendons in his neck straining fiercly.

"Stop me, hyungs... Don't let me in until she calls..." he begged.

****************

You had confessed. You had told him you slept with Namjoon.

And much like a seismic shift in the earth's tectonic plates causes a volcanic eruption, your confession made Sangjun explode.

Immediately he was on you, knocking the mug out of your hand and ignoring it as it smashed to the floor, spilling tea across the laminate dramatically. He lunged for you, fisting your sweater in both hands up pulling you up to stand in front of him.

"I knew it. I knew you fucked him, you dirty little SLUT!" he screamed, throwing you to the floor amongst the mess. Tea soaked through your jeans and the shards of pottery stuck into your side, luckily not sharp enough to cut.

Sangjun immediately sat over you, holding you to the floor by your shoulders. You saw him retract his hand quickly and before you had time to register it came hurtling towards you face, smacking you across your already bruised cheek. You cried out, a stinging sensation burning through your face.

You didn't have time to compose yourself before the next slap; a backhand to the other cheek. He clipped your nose though, a sharp pain rushing through the centre of your face like it had been cracked open. Blood began to pour out of it as he gripped onto your collar, pulling you up and thrusting you against the wall near the entrance to the hallway.

You tried to push him off, tried kicking his knees to make him buckle but he was wise to your tricks and dodged every single hit you tried to land.

Instead he landed another hit to your face; this time his entire fist slammed into your jaw. You cried out again, wounded and in absolute agony as your whole face felt like it was throbbing.

Blood dripped from your nose, down your face and to your sweater, coating your lips in the strong iron taste that filled your mouth. Whatever he had done to your nose, it was bad. You were almost 100% sure it was broken.

He landed a few more punches to various parts of your body; one to the left shoulder, one to the ribs, one to your stomach. You lost your breath, your diaphragm going into spasm and unable to get the oxygen you needed into your body.

Without the breath you needed you couldn't think straight, couldn't even fathom the idea of screaming to Namjoon let alone actually forcing your vocal chords to work. All you could do was struggle for air and cry out incoherent noises inbetween.

"Where is he now, huh? He's here, isn't he? I saw the fucking cars outside, y/n. DO YOU THINK I'M FUCKING STUPID?" he screamed, landing another punch to your gut. "WHO IS HERE? YOU THINK THEY'LL SAVE YOU, HUH? YOU'RE MINE, Y/N. MINE AND MINE ALONE!"

He wrapped his hands in your hair, pulling it by the roots and dragging you out into the hall.

****************

"She can't breathe, hyung... Listen to her!" Jungkook panicked, hearing your winded state on the other side of the door.

Namjoon stared at the door with his hands tearing his own hair out at the roots, panic in his eyes.

You hadn't called to him yet... That was the plan. When you called, they'd break in. But could you even attempt to if you couldn't breathe?

He battled with himself, his head scrambling through an inner monologue at twice the normal speed to try and draw up a conclusion as to whether he should just get the hell in there right now, or not.

"We need to get in there, Namjoon..." Jin had his hand on Namjoon's shoulder, trying to talk some sense to him but he just kept thinking; she hasn't called, she hasn't called... She needs the footage, she hasn't called yet...

If only he had known you had more than enough footage to go off by now.

All of the boys heard Sangjun screaming at you; they heard him claim you as his, heard him scream of his knowledge that they were there. They all looked at each other, eyes darting between them but before anyone could react they heard a loud and unmistakable thud on the other side of the door.

The front door shook, like something had collided with it. Jungkook fell back from his crouched position, falling at Namjoon's feet. A few more little thuds hit the door from the other side, and the sound of strained breath was once again the most alarming noise they could hear through the wood.

****************

More pain, radiating from the top of your head right to the base of your spine as Sangjun threw you up against the front door by your hair. He let go of the strands and pushed his hands up against your throat, pushing his leg between your knees and pressing himself up against you tightly. You had no wiggle room, no way to get away.

His eyes stared into yours, pupils blown out and rage coursing through them. Slowly, the fingers around your throat started to tighten, like a boa constrictor tightens itself around it's prey, taking its time...

You felt every pad of his fingertips, every tendon in every digit at it pushed the pressure onto your windpipe, cutting off the airway and leaving you breathless once again.

You squirmed and hit out, hitting your fists against his chest. You couldn't look away from his eyes, like when you see a spider across the room and watch it in case it moves.

Namjoon is on the other side of the door, you thought. They all are...

If you didn't get their attention now, Sangjun could easily render you unconscious. Or worse...

But with his hands so tight around your throat you couldn't scream, you couldn't even whisper; there was no air in your lungs to be able to make a sound.

You stopped struggling against Sangjun, instead hitting out and kicking against the flat surface you were pushed up against. You used all the strength you had left in you thump and pound on the door, hoping to get their attention.

Please, please get in here...

****************

Namjoon heard you pounding on the door, struggling for breath. They all did.

"Shit, get IN THERE!" Yoongi yelled.

Namjoon pushed against the door with his shoulder, trying to force it open to no avail. It was going to take more than that to get past a large wooden door, your body weight and Sangjun's strength.

"FUCKING HELP ME!" Namjoon yelled to the others. Jungkook scrambled to his feet, Jin and Hoseok readying themselves to help. They stepped back, the four of them gearing up to break it down.

"One, two, THREE!" Jungkook yelled, and all four of them threw themselves at the door in an assemblage of shoulders and feet using their power to get in. It wasn't enough.

"AGAIN!" Namjoon yelled. They stepped back in unison. "One, two, THREE!" They hurtled towards the door again.

"Keep going, you'll get there!" Jimin yelled, wishing he could help but knowing there wasn't enough room for another person to get in and push.

"He's right on the other side, he's stopping us!" Hoseok yelled as they all stepped back again, ready to throw themselves at it again.

"NOTHING IS GONNA FUCKING STOP ME GETTING IN THERE! ONE, TWO, THREE!" Namjoon screamed, the boys colliding with the wood again. This time they heard a faint crack.

"The hinges are coming off, Joon!" Yoongi yelled, "Keep going!"

The four stood back again, a little further this time, and rushed headlong into the door. Another crack, this time louder. Namjoon could now visibly see the wood splintering by the hinges.

"ONE MORE! LET'S GO! ONE, TWO, THREE!" One final run up, and the door broke of its hinges.

With you still on the other side, it didn't fall down immediately. Sangjun's strength managed to keep it relatively upright but his grip on your throat faltered and you fell to the floor, just as white spots had started to appear in your vision.

Namjoon immediately pushed his way through the gap between the oddly angled door - now off its hinges - and the wall. His hands reached for Sangjun, grabbing his shirt and pinning him to the wall with as much force as he had in him, Sangjun's head hitting the plasterboard of the wall. The remnants of the door hit the wall opposite, leaning against it while Namjoon held Sangjun in place.

"FUCKING ANIMAL," he screamed, landing a vicious right hook to Sangjun's jaw. "YOU'RE SICK, SICK IN THE FUCKING HEAD," he shook him by the collar, followed by another right hook.

Jungkook and Yoongi moved the door out of the way and pushed past Namjoon and Sangjun, coming to your side to assess your state. You lay on your front, face down on the floor covered in a puddle of your own blood and spluttering, oxygen finding its way back into your lungs after being starved for almost too long.

Seokjin and Hoseok rushed to Namjoon's side, Hoseok holding onto Sangjun and Seokjin holding Joon's arms behind his back, doing everything he could to stop him from knocking the asshole out.

As much as Jin thought Sangjun absolutely deserved it, he couldn't see his brother going down for assault and battery.

"Namjoon, hey! HEY! Cool it!" Jin yelled, pulling Namjoon back. He struggled against him, anger ripping through him. The pathetic little man in front of him needed to learn his lesson, needed to know how it felt to be beat down to a fucking pulp.

On the floor, Yoongi rolled you onto your side, Jungkook helping him to pull you up into a sitting position against the far wall of the hall. Your eyes had swollen so much, you could barely see past the blur of tears leaking from the agony your body was feeling.

Your head lolled forward, chin resting on your chest as more blood dripped from your nose to your lap. You still struggled to breathe, the punches to your gut and your ribs making you feel like you were being stabbed with every breath.

"Jimin, call an ambulance! Tae, the police!" Yoongi yelled back to them. Both pulled their phones out immediately, dialling the emergency services.

"I'll go wait outside, stay on the phone Jimin," Tae instructed, running for the steps and hastily making his way down them to wait for the first batch of help to arrive.

Amongst the chaos, Namjoon was still fighting against Jin, trying to lay into Sangjun some more. He had seen red, he was screaming at him; never had Namjoon lost his tempter like this and honestly, Jin was a little scared of him. He knew he would never turn on any of the boys, but he wasn't sure just how much strength he had in him with the adrenaline and pure fury pumping through his veins.

Yoongi did his best by your side, lifting your chin to look at your swollen and bloodied face and checking your breathing, your pulse, everything... just making sure you were okay, that you were still alive. Jimin had found his way inside, passing instructions from the paramedics to Yoongi next to him.

Jungkook looked on in fear, watching Namjoon fighting against Jin to get past Hobi and wrap his hands around Sangjun's damn throat.

"Namjoon-hyung! NAMJOON! StOP!" he yelled, nothing working to calm the chaos.

Through your blurred vision you could only see shapes, violently moving in front of you. You could hardly hear anything, your head clouded with concussion; you felt like you were watching from underwater.

"J-Joon..ie..." you choked, trying your best to speak, to get his attention. You needed to calm him, you didn't care about yourself right now. Your damage had been done, but Namjoon could do so much more...

He heard you, his head finally snapping to look at your broken and beaten body laying up against the wall. He saw your beautiful face, swollen and bloodied and the way your body fell limp with exhaustion and suffering.

He stopped fighting immediately, letting Jin pull him a few feet from where Hobi was restraining Sangjun - who by this stage, had given up trying to get away. Jin let Namjoon go, watching as he fell to his knees by your side, holding your hand in both of his and planting soft little kisses to your knuckles as you sat there, broken.

"I'm here, I'm here... I'm so sorry, y/n. I'm here," he repeated, over and over again. Guilt welled up inside him; you should have been his first thought when he burst through the door, but instead it was your revenge he had craved. He let anger cloud his mind and he lost control.

Jungkook went to help Hobi, cornering Sangjun so he couldn't attempt to run. He had given up though; police had been called, the jig was up.

It took a few minutes for paramedics to arrive, and a little longer for police. You were immediately heaved onto a stretcher and wheeled out to the parking lot outside where an ambulance and police cars were ready and waiting.

Namjoon held your hand the whole time, from the moment you were on that stretcher, down to the parking lot and inside the ambulance as you were checked over at the scene. He refused to leave you alone.

Statements were taken from each of the boys, and Sangjun arrested and shoved into the back of a cop car. Each of the boys made sure to tell the cops about the camera you had hidden to catch the evidence of his abuse, affirming the truth.

It was over. After four years of absolute hell, of agony and terror... you were free. ****************

Hospitals had never been you favourite place on earth, but waking up in one surrounded by beeping monitors and brilliant white lights was - for a change - totally welcome. You didn't mind the annoying, monotonous noises you could hear; they were almost comforting.

As you had opened your eyes, you could only see the bland tiles of the ceiling above you but after a moment of consciousness, you felt the dull ache all over your body, radiating from your face. You winced, trying to sit up in the uncomfortable bed but you arms were too weak to push you up.

"Hey, no... stay put. Hold on," a voice said from beside you. And then you heard a mechanical whirring, and you were slowly sitting up as the bed rose. You turned your head slightly to the side to see Yoongi, sat in the chair beside you with the controls for your bed's mechanics in his hand. "Hey," he said simply, a soft smile on his features.

"Y-Yoongi..." you croaked, your throat strained and dry from the lack of moisture.

"Oh, here..." he picked up a bottle of water from beside the chair, unscrewing the cap and standing by your side you pour a little into your mouth for you. Immediately, the dry burn in your throat was extinguished. "How are you feeling?"

You weren't sure how to answer that, having just woken up, but you didn't feel good; you knew that.

"Hurts," you mumbled, your face aching with the movement of every muscle in your cheeks. There was something attached to your face, covering your nose that muffled everything you tried to say. You raised a hand to touch it, feeling the cold metal brace that was attached to you to hold your nose in place.

"Want a run down of your injuries?" Yoongi asked cautiously. You nodded, bracing yourself for the worst. "Okay, your left eye socket is cracked slightly... Your nose was pretty smashed up, they had to reconstruct it; hence the brace holding it in place now. Two of your ribs are cracked, your lungs were in shock but have since stabilised and you had a pretty bad concussion. Other than that, just bruises..."

Wow, that was... better than you expected. But now you understood the agony in the centre of your face and the ache in your torso.

You noticed the drip attached to your hand too.

"To keep you hydrated, while you were out," Yoongi noticed your eyes following the tubes.

"Where's Namjoon?" you asked.

"Probably asleep in the waiting room with Jin. It's..." he checked the time on his phone, shoving it back into his back pocket, "around 3am. You've been out for almost two days, with surgeries and stuff..."

"Why are you up so late?" you questioned, your face stinging as your creased your brow. You let out a little wince of pain.

"Night owl," he said simply, smirking. "I told Joon I'd wake him if you woke up."

"Oh, no, let him sleep..."

"No can do, my sweet. He'd murder me if I did," he reached for your hand, giving it a comforting and light squeeze, before turning to exit the little room you were bundled into.

Alone with your thoughts for a moment, you let your mind run over what you could remember from the other day.

You remember Sangjun losing his temper, being thrown around... You remember him shoving you against the front door and hearing Jungkook's panic at realising you were being held by your throat. You remember a crash and falling to the floor, but not much else. Only being checked over in the back of an ambulance and whisked off to hospital.

You couldn't be sure if Sangjun was arrested, or if the police had got the footage you had caught. You prayed they had...

The door clicked open and Namjoon's sleepy face poked through the gap, puffy eyes searching for you. You raised your hand off the bed a little, waving meekly.

"Hey," he pushed the door open further, his voice laced with sleep and shut it behind him, coming to drag the chair closer to your bedside to sit with his hands enveloping yours. "How are you feeling?" he asked, concerned.

You sighed internally. You were going to get that question a lot, weren't you? In fact, there would be a lot of questions thrown your way very soon...

"I feel like I was hit by a car," you groaned.

"Yoongi-hyung has gone to find a nurse, try and get you some morphine to numb it," he reassured.

A moment of silence passed by as Namjoon scanned your body from head to toe. He'd seen the state you were in plenty over the last couple of days but seeing you awake and wincing in pain with every small movement hit different. He hadn't known what to expect, and he knew it wouldn't be good, but he couldn't help feeling so incredibly guilty for how things played out.

"I should've got in sooner... I shouldn't have waited, I-"

"Namjoon," you squeezed his hand, stopping him. "You did what you could, it's okay. You got to me when I needed you, that's what matters."

"Yeah but-"

"No... No buts," you silenced him again, watching as he looked down at the floor in shame. Another silence settled over you, the big question on the tip of your tongue. But you were so afraid of the answer, so terrified that you had gone through all of this for nothing.

But you had to ask.

"D-did he... Was he arrested, Joon?" Your voice trembled, your bottom lip quaking.

"Yeah, at the scene. Not before I laid into him a little, mind... He's in custody. The police want to talk to you," he spoke so softly; it was so comforting to you, just having him there.

"The camera?"

"Yoongi-hyung gave it to the police. They have the footage, so he's been convicted. The police just want your statement and background; how long he's been doing it, what he's done etc. They need to compile a list of other charges for court."

Your shoulders relaxed, releasing tension you didn't know you had been holding until then. Another wave of pain flooded through you as you did, and you winced aloud yet again.

"Forgot about court..." you sighed.

"You'll only need to see him once more. And then he's gone, for good." Joon ran his thumb over the back of your hand comfortingly. "He'll be in custody until then. No one is willing to pay his bail."

"No, his family don't speak to him."

"Figures," Joon muttered. "There's maybe something you should know..." he mumbled, fiddling with the drawstrings on his hoodie. You waited, looking at him nervously. "The press got wind of the story. Local journalists caught the incident on the police scanner and came to the scene to see what had happened. You and I had already left in the ambulance but they saw the others giving statements to the police. Bang PD was forced to release a statement..."

Your heart sank. This was how your career was going to start; the career you worked so hard for... And Bang PD knew. Was he mad at you?

"So Bang PD knows everything..."

"We had no choice... But hey, it's okay. He's not angry you kept it from him; he gets it. He's hired the best lawyers and is spending all his time looking into Sangjun's background. He's protective of his own, y/n. We're a family," he reassured. "And actually, he's been very supportive of... well, if we were to... y'know..." he trailed off, not knowing what your relationship was at this point or wanting to ask you; this was not the time nor the place.

"Joonie, I told you I loved you. I mean that," you said, squeezing his hand a little. He looked up, eyes hopeful and smiled shyly.

"Well, once all this is over with... maybe I can take you on a date? A real one. We can..."

"Be together," you finished his sentence for him, sensing his shyness. "I'd like that..." His smile grew again, dimples turning into craters the moon would be jealous of.

A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. A nurse wondered in, a cart in tow and Yoongi following in behind, shutting the door.

"Hi sweetie, good to see you awake," the nurse smiled sweetly. She was a pretty young thing, very petite and friendly. "You must be in some pain, so I'm gonna change your drip over for a solution with morphine in, keep it to a minimum," she explained everything as she did it, changing the tube to fix onto the new bag and strapping it to the mechanism next to your bed.

"Give it around 20 minutes, you won't feel it anymore. If you do or there's anything you need at all; food, a drink, there's a call button right here," she pointed to the little red button on the remote Yoongi had left by your side, smiled at you again, and wheeled the cart out, leaving you with Namjoon and Yoongi.

"Did Joon tell you that..?"

"Yeah, he's in custody. Thank you Yoongi; for giving them the footage," you smiled, noticing how awkward he looked with his hands shoved into his pockets and his foot kicking the floor.

"He was amazing, y/n. He took care of you, when I was... well, too preoccupied with beating the life out of him... He did everything the paramedics told him to, knew exactly what to do when we got inside," Joon explained, smiling fondly at his friend. Yoongi scratched the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly.

"Did what I had to," he mumbled.

"Thank you," you smiled. "To all of you. You may well have saved my life," your throat constricted as you swallowed down tears, your face stinging and aching with the force.

"Don't you ever thank us, y/n. You don't need to," Namjoon ran his fingers through your hair and brought your hand up to his lips, pressing soft little kisses to your knuckles.

****************

"Byun Sangjun, you entered a plea of not guilty for the charges against you," the judge began in the courtroom. You sat nervously in the stands with Namjoon and the boys one side of you, and Bang PD on the other side. Namjoon had been right when he said he was supportive. Work went out the window; he focused solely on your recovery - which was going well; bruises yellowing and swelling going down, but bones still extremely tender and healing - and getting as much evidence against Sangjun as possible.

He even found you an apartment close to the boys' dorm complex, which Namjoon had been staying in with you on the sly on the nights you hadn't spent at the dorm. You couldn't bare to be alone; not until Sangjun was behind bars for good.

Sangjun stood in the docks, hands cuffed together in front of him and a vacant look on his face. He looked tired, his cheeks sagged and eyes puffy. Any other person, you'd have felt sorry for. Not for this monster.

Namjoon held your hand in his tightly, jaw clenched as he stared at Sangjun with a fire burning in his eyes. He couldn't look at the man without wanting to beat him into the ground. Your fingers shook in his, fiddling with a little thread hanging from the sleeve of your shirt. You waited patiently, knee bouncing.

The judge continued.

"Therefore, with the evidence against you and the victim and witness testimonies, I have no choice but to come to a conclusion based on the facts presented in my court room today.

"The court has seen the vile footage of abuse recorded during the most recent incident and based on other testimonies and Ms. y/l/n's medical records, we have no choice but to find you guilty of not only repeated domestic violence, but one count of attempted murder for the monstrous attack weeks prior to today. Therefore, this court sentences you to twelve years in prison, with a minimum serve of 10. Dismissed." The judge banged his gavel, and stood to leave the court room.

In your bench, the boys all seemed to let out a long breath of relief at the same time, Namjoon turning to you and enveloping you in a hug. You sat very still, the realisation still not sinking in. You couldn't take your eyes of Sangjun, who was now being escorted out of the court room by officers to his holding cell before transferring to whatever hell-hole prison he was assigned to.

Just as he reached the door, he looked back at you with an expression you couldn't read. Was it...defeat? It almost felt like he was trying to tell you, 'okay, you got me. Fair enough'.

An officer shoved his shoulder roughly, nudging him through the door. That was the last time you would see his face, and the relief that washed over you felt incredible.

You turned to Namjoon, burying your head in his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head, holding you as you started to sob and the rest of the courtroom filed out.

"Shh, hey... It's over now. He's gone," he whispered into your hair.

Bang PD turned to you, his hand on your shoulder. You couldn't believe how sweet he had been throughout the weeks following the incident. You reached your hand to his and squeezed appreciatively.

"Thank you, sir," you whimpered, lifting your head to look at him. His expression was so soft that you felt guilty for ever having doubted he would kick you to the curb or be mad at you for any of this. Never could a man as sweet as him do that to anyone in their time of need. Especially one of his own.

"Pleasure is mine, y/n. Your future is yours now," he smiled, glad to see you out of this hell with the closure you rightfully deserved. You nodded, smiling genuine happiness with tears seeping down your cheeks.

Namjoon led you out of the courthouse with his arm around your shoulder, Bang PD on your other side and the boys trailing behind you.

A flurry of reporters were waiting by the courthouse steps, rushing to you as soon as you appeared. Of course the local reports of a woman attacked had grown into international headlines when they realised BTS were involved somehow.

Bang PD's statement was very matter-of-fact and clear that you - BigHit's new trainee - had been trapped in an abusive relationship for years and the boys had figured something was wrong, rushing to your aid to find you being attacked viciously. That was the official story. Of course they didn't know that they had planned the rescue, or that Namjoon and you were technically together; some things were better left unsaid.

Bang PD had needed to release a second statement when rumours started about Namjoon and you; he simply said you and he were close as friends and colleagues for the moment, as he was your 'producer'. But he had slid into it that if a relationship were to blossom between any of his idols in the future, he welcomed it warmly. You had found that so sweet.

Cameras flashed in your face and you cowered against Namjoon, Seokjin rushing to your side too to dispel rumours of a relationship yet again. You gripped onto him knowingly, having become accustomed to not favouring Namjoon in public. The others crowded you, offering their support also. Bang PD stepped forward, ready to address the press who quietened down, holding audio recorders in his face and clicking their cameras.

"Justice was served here today, and we as a company - a family - at BigHit are elated that our beloved trainee, y/n, is now safe. We would now like to move forward and focus on the wonderful talent that exudes from her as an artist and bring her the career she has worked so hard to obtain. Thank you," he bowed respectfully, keeping it short and sweet.

The chorus of reporters snapped their pictures of you with the boys and Bang PD as you made your way to the two waiting cars, finally leaving this horrific chapter of your life behind.

****************

Six months had passed, time healing the wounds on your body and slowly, the wounds on your soul too. You had gone back to work a few weeks after court, insisting you were ready to pour your heart into your debut.

Songs were finished in a matter of weeks now that you were free to work whenever you wanted, for how ever long you want. Choreography was created for your songs, which after the majority of your wounds had healed, you started to learn day in, day out. Music videos and concepts were created, centring around the idea of rebirth; fitting.

And now, you were stood backstage at MNet, waiting for your chance to debut on national television. The buzz surrounding you and your debut was of course heightened by the unfortunate events of your time as a trainee, but surprisingly it had worked in your favour. People were so interested in who you were, to see how you could come back from such a horrific ordeal.

Namjoon had watched your proudly in the run up to your debut. He had, in fact, become like a producer to you; spending his spare time working so hard on your music with you. His name was in the credits to your songs, on albums ready to be shipped out to stores at 6pm KST. But besides that, he had been your rock; there for you when PTSD woke you in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, trembling. There for you when you needed to vent, to let out your frustrations. There for you when you needed someone to take care of you, cook for you or just to hold you.

And yes, the two of you had become an item in the meantime. God, how you loved him. You adored the ground he walked on, and he the air you breathed. It was no longer a secret, more statements being released to inform fans of your relationship a month prior to your debut. The overwhelming reaction was positive - of course there were some nasty comments, but no boycotting and certainly not enough anger to create a stir.

So now, as you stood at the side of the stage at MNet, you gave a little wave to the love fo your life sat in the sound booth above the audience, looking down at you. He grinned and waved back, excited to see you finally debut.

While he had heard the songs, you refused to let him know anything else about your music. He was as much in the dark about your concept and choreography as the fans were. He had been practically giddy that morning, the other boys mimicking his excitement. They all appeared in the sound booth window too, waving excitedly. You giggled, waiting for the stage director to usher you out to begin the filming.

When the time came, you danced and sang your little heart out, perfectly in time with the music and the rest of your dancers and sounding like you had swallowed the CD. The fans ate it up, already having created an official fan-chant for you and screaming support at you when you ended the first cut. You filmed the song three times over from different angles to make sure they had all the footage they needed, and the fan's buzz never dampened.

Your song had brought Namjoon to tears in the booth, so proud of his baby girl for getting to this stage after everything you had been through. He was watching you live your dream, reliving his own debut and so immensely proud of you; he couldn't help the happiness leaking from his eyes.

You recorded the takes of your second song too after a costume and set change, and once again the fans ate it up. You had never felt so encouraged, so worthy in your life. They were happier for you than you could fathom, loving the girl who had been through so much and yet came out on top, like this.

You were a ray of hope, a beacon of belief that no matter what the hell you have been through, it does not define you, and it will not control you. And you were absolutely certain that this would be your message going forward; you would continue to spread that for as long as your career lasted.

No matter what the hell you have been through, it does not define you and it will not control you.

Fin. **************** Part One | Part Two | Part Three A/N ~ Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this fic, please let me know. You can find my other work in my masterlist below, and if you’d like to leave a tip or commission your own fic from me, the link it also below.  Masterlist Tip Jar & Commissions

[starrybbarnes]

high flying, pt. 3 | [b.b]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x superhero!Reader

Summary: bucky has no memory of you using magic. certain teammates are catching on, but you’re standing your ground. trouble brews as you’re training yourself. 

Word Count: 1932 (more substance! i promise this one is worth it)

Author’s note: originally, this was supposed to be a 3 part thing, but i’m pretty sure there’s be 4 total. don’t worry I’ve tried to make these next two as long as possible, but also still entertaining. but, the main attraction is coming soon. as i’ve said before, i appreciate all of your feedback! :)

Warnings: more swearing, some more magic, and a cliffhanger.. maybe. I’ve sprinkled some fluff to make up for it. also if you know someone from mit, i apologize in advanced.

Part 1 Part 2

Smack smack smack went your feet across the padding... It became mundane as you kept fighting the still punching bag, and much more tiring. 

While practicing some combat moves, you started thinking about the meeting. Surely, no one was able to identify you, but you’re sure as hell Steve and Bucky might have an inclination. And rightfully so, as you partially wiped the mind of a friend. 

You thought about the moment Bucky stared you down in the conference room, his mind trying to put two and two together, but alas couldn’t make a connection. Maybe he is that clueless, you thought to yourself.

However, if Steve is able to connect the dots as to why Bucky can’t remember certain moments of certain days, then you might be into some hefty trouble. And if he were to find out you casted a spell on his best friend, you might jeopardize your job.  

But at the same time, you thought about your own safety, your privacy. You weren’t ready to take on a huge role, much less when you’re not used to your powers. It was a tug and pull, but you were committed to letting everyone know once you had the capacity to control it. 

You were deep in thought when you felt yourself levitate slightly. It was a force of habit, but you let it happen, letting your thoughts occupy you.  

As you stood, er- floated, there while pondering, you heard the gym door open and you quickly grabbed a hold of the pull up bar. Making their way towards you is Steve and Bucky, both carrying duffle bags on their side. The boys stare at you incredulously as you’re holding onto the bar.

“How’s it hanging down there?” you half joked, as Steve rolled his eyes and Bucky was suppressing a smile. 

“Very funny,” Steve said, “we were looking for you all over, figured this might be the last place to look.” 

“Well,” you started, still on the pull-up bar, “your inclinations were correct.” 

Bucky eyed you, gears churning in his head, trying to see why you doing pull-ups felt… off. 

You sensed Bucky’s confusion as he stared at you just dangling from the bar, and so you thought fast. You fell on your knees as you abruptly let go of the bar and planted onto the floor. A loud oof was heard as Steve audibly gasped at the sight.

“I’m fine!” you said nonchalantly  as Bucky scooped you up and stood in front of you. 

Bucky shook his head and began to speak, “we came by to find you—”

“You came to find her,” Steve interrupted, “I just came to support Bucky because he’s always afraid to talk to ya.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” Bucky interjected, “but anyways, the team and I are headed out of the country for 5 days. Ireland, specifically. I think it’s business related. So we won’t be long.”

A slight hum escaped your mouth, nodding at the statement Bucky had said. “Look at you two, being business-y,” you joked as Bucky cracked a smile, while Steve rolled his eyes.

“Well, sweetheart, I’ll have you know I’m all business, all the time,” he added, earning a groan from you and Steve.

You stood in front of the duo. If anyone knew awkward, it’s definitely these two centenarians. Another moment of silence overcame the gym, as three of you just stared at each other, and you crossed your arms, waiting.  

“Oh, for god’s sake Buck,” Steve sighed, “Y/N, Bucky told me he was going to miss you and he didn’t know if you felt the same way.”

You raised your eyebrows at the duo, Bucky blushing ever so slightly and Steve looking more exasperated than usual. 

“Well,” you coughed, “Let Bucky know that I will miss the team equally… but, I’ll miss him slightly more.” 

Bucky smiled at the last comment and went to hug you. Steve came in for a hug too and broke away and said they should get going, as they shouldn’t be running late. Bucky slowly let go and sheepishly waved goodbye as the duo started to head out. 

As the two walked away, you carefully shot some magic their way, a safe travel spell, and he closed the door. You saw through the windows that Steve and Bucky  looked confused at the slight lavender aura around them, how they smelled of rose and vanilla all of sudden.

Steve shoots you a look through the window, and all you do is laugh and shrug. You go towards the back of the gym, and reveal your silver staff hiding in plain sight, and begin to twirl it. It begins to glow with its purple hue, and you start practicing with it.

Maybe they’ll figure it out, it doesn’t matter. But, it is kind of fun messing with the guys. 

。。

6:45 pm, 5 days later

The compound had been eerily quiet the past five days, and you were elated that your friends were coming back in a couple of hours. Most importantly, Bucky was coming back.

You promised yourself it was now the time to make a move. You pondered for hours with your stuffed animal and your best friend, the latter being slightly more responsive.

You also let your friend Betsy know that you have completely gotten a hang of your powers, and your friend suggested that you  might be ready to fight alongside the Avengers.

You hesitated at that suggestion. You were really good, but that’s only because you kept practicing in the simulation room at the gym. Sometimes you're thrown a curveball in the real world. But you knew you’d have the support of your friends whenever you’re crime fighting. 

Betsy asked about Bucky’s flight back. It left at around 7 this morning, so you predicted they might come around the afternoon. She commented that a normal flight from Ireland usually is 8 hours long, if there are no layovers. 

That means they should’ve arrived here at around 3. The quinjet is fairly punctual, and it isn’t like the team to be taking that long. Especially with the time differences, everyone would’ve been eager to come back home to sleep off the jet lag. 

You asked FRIDAY if there was any GPS location of the quinjet the team was boarded on, but oddly enough there wasn’t any. FRIDAY reported that the last signal was sent from Queens, which meant they were almost here. Flying from the city to upstate New York took an hour, tops. 

“This isn’t looking good,” you said to your friend with concern. Both of you kept throwing off ideas as to why there was a delay, when FRIDAY notified you of an incoming message.

You opened up the hologram and there said a message that read: In trouble. Top of building. Call backup. B. 

 “Call backup?” you questioned, “but there’s no one except me and Peter. All the other other Avengers were either with Steve or they’re doing other minor missions. And I’m pretty sure other agents don’t have the clearance to do this type of stuff… right?”

That only leaves once choice, Y/N, your friend commented. You’re gonna have to brave this out with Peter.

“Peter’s a child,” you argued.

When he wants to be, your friend interjects. He can put up a fight, I’ve seen him on the news. 

You keep weighing your options, when you hear a knock on the door. 

“Uh, Y/N?” Peter asked, “did you get that text from FRIDAY? I think the guys are in trouble. Most importantly your secret boyfriend is in trouble but that’s beside the point. I want to do this, but I’m by myself and I can’t do the saving by myself, I mean I can, but I need your help.”

Peter is dressed in his suit, minus the mask, and he peeks inside more to see you talking to your friend. You look at your friend, back to Peter, to the message, back to your friend, and then back to Peter. 

You opened your closet and then opened a secret drawer. You saw your suit, and next to it, your silver staff. 

“Peter,” you sighed, “Let’s grab a small jet and get to the bottom of this. Lord knows I’ve prepared myself for this.”

。。

As the jet got closer to the main city, you and Peter tried to intercept any signal or clue to find your friends. You put the jet on autopilot, and pulled up a map of the city to see the roofs of any tall building. 

You groaned slightly, “this is hopeless, there’s no way we can pinpoint a place quickly.” 

You wondered as to how a quinjet of such size can’t be detected by just plain eyesight. Either that, or it was time to get your vision checked out. 

Then Peter started to sense something: it was by a building on Liberty Street. He then pulled up a hologram and started zooming in on the roof of that building. It was difficult to see, but there was a ball of light sort of floating above the roof.

You were called over by Peter to check it out, and as the jet slowly started to get closer, and you pulled out some binoculars, you can vaguely recognize some burly men all bunch up together. 

“Peter, try to land on the roof that is two buildings over from that building,” you suggested. As the jet neared the roof, you decided to turn off the engines and used your magic to safely land the jet. It was no easy feat, but it was done. 

Getting out of the jet, you and Peter went towards the roof’s ledge that got as close as possible to the building with the floating light ball.

Using your binoculars once again, you got a clearer image of who was on top. 

It was the boys. And they were surrounded by a bunch of guys dressed in black, with one scrawny dude standing by a weird contraption. 

“That doesn’t look pretty,” Peter commented through his suit. His AI was explained to you and Peter that the scrawny was an ex-Stark employee, and the machine was used to keep the Avengers captive, while also a finding way to try and blow up the compound. Karen, the AI, proclaimed that the machine had major flaws and said it wouldn’t take much to take it down. 

“Can you tell Karen that while that sounds optimistic, there are also only two of us, and bunch of bad guys,” you groaned. This definitely wasn’t in a gym simulation.

“Sure... but,” Peter started, “we do have your powers, and my strength, and my ability to distract people. Also, I think it’s your time to shine, I think we’re both ready to do this.” 

You looked over to the other roof. You vaguely saw Bucky’s arm glistening in the sunlight. He looked confused and afraid. It looked like was looking upwards in every direction, trying to find any sign of backup. Luckily for him, it isn’t that far away.

“Peter, you’re right,” you replied. “And I think I have a surefire way to save our boys.”

You took your staff out of the sheath that was on your back. It slowly started to glow, and your whole demeanor changed. Now wasn’t the time to back down, it’s time to fight. And fight hard. 

“Karen, give us a rundown of our surroundings. I have a plan that will make sure than Peter and I can kick scrawny intern ass.”

[randomfandomfamily]

uhhhmhmjlots of angst one shots lately i see,,,you should write something fluffy w/ gary, avocato, & little cato,,.., you can never go wrong with those 3 interacting in a cute/happy way right?

---

You know what? You right. Have some fluff.

Avocato hadn’t seen much of the arcade, but when he heard Quinn and Gary shouting from that general direction, he figured it was worth investigating.

Though when he found Quinn and Gary, he was confused. They were peering into vents and calling out Little Cato’s name. “What’s going on here?”

Quinn looked at Gary. “You wanna explain? Or should I?”

Gary took a deep breath. “Don’t be mad-”

“Already off to a bad start,” Quinn commented.

“Okay, I didn’t know a root beer float was going to give him a friggin’ sugar high, Quinn,” Gary said, “I just thought ‘Hey! Little Cato’s never heard of a root beer float before, maybe he should try one.’”

“He didn’t have a root beer float, Gary,” Quinn shot back. “He had five of them because somebody left him alone at the soda parlor!”

Avocato looked at Gary in confusion. “What the hell is a root beer float?”

“Is this seriously just an Earth thing? There is a soda parlor on this alien ship, and you’re telling me no one has had a float ever?!”

“It’s ice cream and soda,” Quinn answered for him. “Basically just caffeine and sugar.”

“But root beer doesn’t have caffeine in it,” Avocato interrupted.

“So you’ve heard of root beer, but not a root beer float,” Gary muttered, “That makes perfect sense

Quinn and Avocato ignored Gary. “Usually it doesn’t,” Quinn said, “But turns out the ship is stocked with a Earthen root beer called Barq’s, which does.”

Avocato shot Gary a look. Gary shrugged sheepishly in response. “I didn’t know it’d affect him this bad, otherwise I wouldn’t have given it to him.”

“Great,” Avocato said, “How long has it been since you’ve seen him last?”

“Fifteen minutes?”

Avocato bit back a frustrated growl. He loved Gary, lovable idiot that he was, but he was about two seconds from punching his co-parent in the face. “Alright, let’s just find him before-”

“GARY!!”

The three adults turned to see Ash and Fox running towards them. “Ash? Fox? What’s wrong, are you okay?” Gary asked.

Ash’s eye was wide with panic. “I think something’s wrong with Little Cato.”

Fox nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know what happened to him, but he’s tearin’ through the ship like a madman!”

“He knocked HUE over just a few minutes ago,” Ash said, “And Sheryl, too.”

Gary fought back a laugh. “Wait, seriously? He knocked over my mom?”

“Gary,” Quinn said firmly.

He shook his head. “Right, right, right. Focused, I’m focused.” He looked back to Fox and Ash. “Do you know where he went?”

‘I do.’

“AVA?” Avocato was still unused to her voice. And HUE with a body was weird too. “Where’d he go?”

‘He’s currently in the ventilation system,’ she replied, ‘But he’s heading for the bridge as we speak.’

Avocato was going to kill Gary. “Let’s go before he gets into the control room.”

‘You won’t beat him there,’ AVA said helpfully.

Fox and Ash backed away. “Y’all have fun with that,” Fox said, “We’re staying far away from that little hell cat.”

“Yeah,” Ash agreed, “I’m gonna stay here and play games.” Avocato wasn’t too reassured by that, but he figured it couldn’t be all that bad. Right?

Quinn gave Gary a smug smile as they ran for the control room. “I told you to wait and ask Avocato but noooo, you just had to give the hyper kid caffeine, didn’t you?”

“Now is not the time, Quinn!” Gary said. “AVA! Is he in the control room?”

‘Yes,’ AVA replied, ‘Though I would advise against entering the bridge at this time.’

Avocato halted outside the door to the bridge. “Why?”

‘Little Cato appears to be trying to take over the ship.’

“That means we should most definitely be in there!” Gary exclaimed. “Open the door!” Not needing a second prodding, Avocato opened the door and ran in, his gaze darting around to find his kid. “Avocato, look out!”

He barely had time to register Gary’s warning before something dropped onto his back. “INTRUDERS!!”

“Little Cato?!” Avocato reached back and pulled the kid off his shirt. “What are you doing?”

Eyes shining with glee, Little Cato said, “I’m takin’ over the ship! This is my ship now!” He managed to wriggle out of Avocato’s grasp. “This is my ship, and y’all are intruding!”

Gary crossed his arms. “I don’t think so, mister. I’m the captain around here.”

Little Cato climbed onto the captain’s seat and put his hands on his hips. “I, Little Cato, declare this ship mine! Forfeit the ship to me, for I am the superior captain!”

“You can’t do that!” Gary protested.

Quinn interjected, “Sure he can. Provided the grounds on which he claims to be a better captain are supported.”

Avocato turned to her incredulously. “You’re encouraging this?”

She shrugged. “I’m curious.”

“I know how to pilot the ship.” Little Cato spun the chair in circles. “Oh, and I know how to fix it, too! And I have the most experience out of everyone here.”

Quinn frowned. “I’ll grant you the first two, but not that last one, I’m pretty sure you’re the youngest one here.”

Little Cato stopped spinning in the chair. “First of all, how dare you.” He pointed at Quinn disapprovingly. “And second of all, respect your elders! I am seventy-four years old, and I will kick your butt!”

Avocato rolled his eyes at his sons caffeine-induced antics. “Okay, now you’re just being ridi-”

“No, he’s actually right about that one,” Gary interjected. “Long story. Explain later, grab kid now.”

“Ooooooh, I like this game!” Little hopped out of the chair and braced himself to run. “You shall not defeat the captain!”

Gary cracked his knuckles. “Oh ho, you wanna bet?”

Quinn looked at Gary apprehensively. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Something my old man used to do with me whenever I had energy to burn,” Gary said, “Wrestling match.”

Avocato put a hand on Gary’s shoulder. “Nope. Bad idea. Gary, as your friend and the co-parent with the most experience: do not.”

“Too late! We’re doing it!” Gary and Little Cato ran at each other, Little Cato launching himself into Gary’s chest.

The kid was light enough that Gary barely stumbled, the real problem was when Little Cato scrambled over his shoulder, grabbed his arm and pulled it back. It wasn’t enough to really hurt, but it was enough that Gary could no longer use it.

Gary tried to pull Little Cato off like Avocato had, but it was considerably harder with his arm wrenched behind him. “Hey! Get off me!”

Little Cato cackled and jumped off, still holding Gary’s arm. With a small Ventrexian attached to the end of his arm, Gary was off balance and fell easily, landing hard on his rear.

“Ow! You little-” Gary stood and started aggressively taking off his jacket. “Alright, let’s go for real!” But as soon as his jacket was about halfway off, the idiot managed to get himself stuck somehow.

Avocato crossed his arms. “This’ll end bad.” He glanced at Quinn. “Should we stop him?”

“Nah. I’m interested to see where this goes.”

And where it went was Little Cato grabbing the ends of Gary’s half empty sleeves, still flapping in the air from where Gary had partially shrugged it off, and tying them into a knot. “Oh what the-? What is this?!” Gary struggled with his tied sleeves. “Explain to me how I’m supposed to get this off!”

“You don’t!” Little Cato giggled.

Quinn sighed. “Okay, now we intervene.” She gently nudged Little Cato to the side and untied Gary’s sleeves. “How about we find a different way to burn Little Cato’s energy.”

Gary readjusted his jacket and harrumphed. “Alright, like what? He’s about to vibrate through the wall!”

“I can see into another dimension,” Little Cato said to Avocato while Quinn and Gary bickered.

Avocato patted his head, hoping Quinn would come up with something to wear out this kid. “No, you can’t.”

“I can see it,” Little Cato whispered, “The floating roots of beer have shown me worlds beyond worlds.”

There was no response to that other than, “No.” Nothing had prepared him for this part of parenting. There wasn’t a book on ‘How To Deal With Your Kid on a Caffeine High’.

Little Cato bounced on heels. “I’ve never felt so alive.”

“You’ve got too much pent up energy,” Avocato said, “Why don’t we go for a walk or-”

His son suddenly waved his arms in the air frantically. “Oh! Oh! Pent up energy! Need to release!” He pointed up at the ceiling and shouted. “AVA!”

‘Yes?’

“The captain demands Loggins!”

Gary pumped both fists into the air, startling Quinn. “Oh, hell yeah, Spider-Cat! Let’s get some tunes up in here!”

“What’s a Loggins?” Avocato asked.

“Gary does he mean Kenny Loggins?” Quinn said in disbelief.

“What’s a Kenny Loggins?!” Avocato was growing more confused with each passing second.

“LoggiiiiaaaaaaAAAAAHAHAHA!!” Little Cato broke into excited laughter as music started blaring over the ship’s sound system.

Avocato stared as Gary and Little Cato started dancing in a weirdly synchronized way. “What is happening?”

Quinn sighed. “It’s an old song from Earth called Footloose. It’s stupidly catchy and it will be in your head all day.”

“Dance with me!” Gary took Quinn by the hand and swung her around.

Little Cato followed suit by grabbing his hand. “Dad, dance with us!”

“I don’t-”

“Obey your captain!” Little Cato demanded. “Dance with us!”

Avocato couldn’t help the laugh that slipped through. He still didn’t dance, but he watched Little Cato, Quinn, and Gary dance around the control room. At one point, Avocato even found himself humming along.

Quinn was right. This song really was stupidly catchy. He didn’t even notice that it was playing on loop until the fourth time through, that’s how catchy is was.

After fifth playthrough was over, Little Cato clapped his hands. “Yes! Aw, that was awesome!”

“Sounds like you’re starting to come down a little.” Avocato noticed.

“A little bit.” Little Cato rubbed his eyes. “Man, that wore me out. How’d that wear me out so bad?”

Quinn patted his head. “You’re about to crash.”

“Crash?” Little Cato asked. “I don’t wanna crash.”

Gary laughed. “She means you’re about to be real tired.”

“Oh… yeah, that sounds about right.” Little Cato rubbed his eyes again. “Note to self: limit the caffeine and sugar.”

Avocato put a hand on Little Cato’s shoulder. “Wanna go lay down?”

Little Cato nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Good.” Avocato ushered him out of the room. “Because I’m gonna punch Gary in the face now.”

His son paused outside the control room. “Wha-”

“Nothing, go lay down.” Avocato closed the door and turned to Gary.

Gary shrank away. “Are you gonna punch me now?”

“No,” Avocato admitted, “But the next time you wanna give our kid something full of sugar, either moderate him or come ask me first.”

Sighing in relief, Gary said, “Deal.”

Quinn smiled and rolled her eyes. “Told you so, you moron.”

“Hey!”

[serendipitioussurvival]

They Call Her Alpha - Pt 1

Fem!Stiles/Peter Hale

<Next>

“They call her Mother, Destroyer… they call her Alpha.” she was supposed to instill fear into all who opposed her, hope in all that worshiped or called for her. She was supposed to be powerful, not this twig of a teenager giving him the most pitiful glare he’d ever received in his life. “They swear by her like she is a Goddess. She leaves no enemies alive, no records of her face or what she looks like, and all her people are unfalteringly loyal. The only vague description we’ve received of her looks is from the Oracle.” what, exactly, was so inspiring about the little sparkling in front of him? 

She wasn’t too attractive - her hair had multiple hues of red, honey brown, black, and chestnut but was much too oily - though he did find himself sort of enthralled with mapping out the moles and freckles dotting the expanses of fair skin he could see. 

“It’s not rare for scents to be shared.” he reasoned while turning to face his sister, completely dismissing the almost human in front of them. “She doesn’t exactly strike fear into me, sister dearest.” when she seemed unable to stop staring at the girl he let out a small, irritated growl that was quickly answered by a flash of her ruby red eyes. 

“I would remember my place, brother.” she snapped dismissively then turned her attention back to the young woman in front of her. “Isaac,” a young man with cherubic features and curly blonde hair to match stepped forward, hands shaking ever so slightly as the only indication that he was nervous - much to Peter’s pride. “Take the tape off her mouth.” 

Peter had severe doubts that this strange wannabe witchling was the dreaded spark they were looking for, those doubts all flew out the fucking window when Isaac moved into her personal space. Whiskey eyes turned almost beta gold, her anger simmered into something calming and comforting that had his inner wolf prowling from underneath his skin. When Isaac pulled the duct tape off of her lips he did so with steady hands and in a fluid motion that he quickly bowed his head in apology for. He blamed biology for paying close attention to the pink tongue that came out and wetted peach lips. 

“Pretty sure Kidnapping is still illegal, declared or otherwise.” if his wolf was prowling before it was now right underneath his skin, ready to pounce so it could get closer to her. “Heard rumors that the new queen was a ‘were, guess this war has been beneficial to you and yours.” the few Enforcers of the Hale Pack stepped forward with claws extended the moment their Alpha Queen snarled, Isaac - still relatively new to the pack - and Scott - another new addition who was the same age as Isaac - both shrunk back. Peter did not miss the way the supposed ‘Mother, Destroyer’ glanced once towards them before settling back on his sister with a tight anger that he, strangely enough, understood. 

“No war has been formally declared,” Talia reasoned after recollecting herself. 

“Oh? Might want to tell the victims that then. Humans and traitors to both sides are the casualties of your ‘peace’ war with the Unseelie Queen and her geriatric psycho fuck Pappy.” a snort of amusement escaped him before he could even think to control it. “Oh?” her eyes centered directly on him, unnerving and pleasing at the same time. “Think the death of traitors and humans is funny, do you?” she tsk’ed and eyed him up and down, “Bad dog.” 

“Then you are the ‘Alpha’?” Talia snarled while drawing her Enforcers back. 

“Alpha? I’m no wolf,” she snorted and leaned back against the chair, “You mean The Mother, though, don’t you?” she sighed heavily and rolled her shoulders. “Might as well just kill me now then, won’t get anything useful out of me.” Peter sauntered forward, grinning wide when her attention focused back on him. 

“Why’s that sweetling?” he actually laughed when she recoiled away from him in disgust. 

“Ugh, okay Uncle Bad touch, let’s just keep you over that way.” she actually did a ‘shoo’ motion with her foot, “You could totally make Creeperwolf over here a torture method,” she remarked casually to his sister but centered her gaze directly on him when he took another step towards her. “No, go away, shoo.” 

“You’re really not attracted to me,” he murmured, amazed, even as he leaned into her personal space to get a good whiff of her scent. 

“Yeah, no dip Sherlock. Yo, Queeny, what the fuck? Can you tighten the leash or something on him, this is totally borderline sexual harassment.” She was amusing, no one - aside from powerful Dark Fae - ever spoke to his sister like that. For that alone it was almost worth keeping her alive. 

“You will watch your tongue when you speak to the Seelie Queen, ant.” ah yes, cousin Andrew. How Peter adored the fanatic cousin that believed devotedly in his sister. 

“Hmm, Ant, new one. Well, your ‘Oh, most powerful light fae, Seelie Queen, unmatched in lighty goodness’-” He had to turn away from her lest she see his grin. Little tart was a mouthy one wasn’t she? Damn, he was already half smitten. “What can this humble Spark in training do for you?” 

“You’re the Alpha, the Mother.” she actually laughed for a spell before she realized that no one else was laughing with her. 

“Oh my - okay, open your lil wolfy ears and hear me when I say; I am not the Mother, Alpha, or whatever the hell else you’re searching for.” that fact that her hummingbird heartbeat remained steady and that her scent remained clear of deceit had Talia deflating just a little. “There, okay, can I go? I know it may seem hard to believe but I’m not exactly overflowing in the friend department. I’ve only got one and we kinda got a codependency goin’ on, so if you don’t mind?” she wriggled so the chains keeping her confined to the chair would jingle. Peter liked her, mouthy brat she was. 

“You were fighting a Strigoi from taking two Pup’s, why?” the girl sagged back into her chair and eyed Talia with a fatigue that dulled her vigor. 

“Because they were full shift wolves and the bastard wanted to enslave them and sell them back to Psycho Bitch Barbie and her cult of meanies.” Peter couldn’t help his laughter even if he wanted to - which he definitely did not - when he registered that she was calling Kate Argent, current Queen of the Unseelie Court, a Psycho Bitch Barbie. That took balls, it took either a tremendous amount of stupidity or courage and this little sparkling didn’t seem all that stupid. Evidence to the contrary. “Is that why you thought I was the Alpha? ‘Cause I did a little whoop ass on the Dark side Jackasses?” 

“You fit the description we’ve received, vague though it may be.” Peter’s warning growl for her at giving too much away was cut off by intrigue when she leaned forward, smelling of vanilla joy and curiosity. 

“I did? Itty bitty badass me?” Talia’s eyebrows pinched in frustration. Either because of her or because of the case of mistaken identity, Peter couldn’t tell. 

“We were clearly mistaken,” she shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts and murmured something to Scott. Nearly all watched as he left the room before they centered wearily on her. “Were you declared before?”

“Before I sided with the humans and those abandoned by both sides? No.” she settled back with a huff and kicked a single leg out to test the strength of the chains. He adored the way her grin was just a tad blood thirsty when Andrew growled warningly at her, Beta blues flashing as a warning. 

“What is your name then, Spark?” 

“Polish, you can’t say it.” She sighed and looked around, clearly bored with the current conversation. “Also an Orphan, so no known surname. Life’s a bitch, innit? You can call me Stiles, if you want to try niceties, but I’m not declaring Seelie.” 

“It is an honor-” Andrew started vehemently, drawing twin eyerolls from both Peter and ‘Stiles’. 

“And now I know that I will be avoiding you at the next siore.” he didn’t know what enticed him more, the fact that she said soire so perfectly or the fact that she could clearly speak multiple languages. 

“So, French and English. What about Polish?” he crouched in front of her, knowing that his jeans hugged his thighs and ass just right when he did so. Little tart didn’t even glance. 

“Well well, Uncle Bad Touch, you ain’t so bad at sleuthin’. So I got three languages under my belt, care to guess at which one is my native one?” he grinned and leaned in closer, ignoring his sister’s warning call of his name. 

“I’d rather get under your belt myself,” she tsked again and sighed as if disappointed with him. 

“As much as I like trading barbs with you, Uncle Bad Touch, I will have to gracefully decline. Her head tilted to the side, exposing her pretty neck and the trailing of moles that he wanted to trace.

With his tongue. 

“You wound me,” he joked, hand clasped dramatically over his heart as he rocked back on his heels. 

“I’d like to,” she glibly returned, eyes gleaming her joy and flooding the room with her vanilla pleasure. 

“Enough!” Talia snapped, drawing him back to her side by his wolf. He hated when she did that, when she took his control and snapped it to achieve her own goals. “Enough. As an undeclared you are not bound by our laws. We will let you go,” she rose her hand to quell the disagreements that rose from her decision, “but we will be keeping an eye on you. If we so much as suspect that you play a bigger part than what you seem to then we will collect you again. Make no mistake, Spark, if you so much as move a foot in a direction I deem suspicious I will make you declare a side to either be punished or governed as seen fit.”

“You know,” the Spark mused as Scott began unlocking her confines. “You’re not so bad, Queeny, but you’re hopelessly misinformed about the actual state of things. I’m sure your Seelie losses have been big,” dainty fingers rubbed at the red indentations on her wrist, “If you were aware of the actual losses your ‘not-war’ has caused-” she trailed off as she got lost in her own thoughts. “Well, whatever. Can I get dropped off where you’re people kidnapped me from?” A better man wouldn’t have taken the time she was walking away to check out her ass, a better man would’ve probably felt sympathy for the sparkling. Peter was not a ‘good’ man, but he wasn’t a bad one either, so when she looked back at him from over her shoulder he tore his gaze from her tempestuous ass to wink at her. Of one thing he was certain, she was either on the cusp of her twentieth year or she soon would be. She was much too interesting to kill or enslave, he hoped she stayed that way. 

“Peter, I want you to keep an eye on her.” sweet, sweet victory. “She’s hiding something but I feel we’ll have a better chance at finding out what when she thinks she’s not under scrutiny.” 

“With pleasure, sister.” 

[simonlovelazy]

Sun, I miss you - Vamp!Ray/MC fic

Belated happy Valentine’s Day!

Title: Sun, I miss you

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Pairing: Vamp!Ray/ MC

Tags: post-apo AU, vampires, angst, brooding vampire with a thing for bad metaphors

Word count: 2580   

Summary: The lower the sun set, the harder it was for Ray to resist his second nature.  

or read on AO3

Behind the curtain, just enough to see without being seen.

MC was leaning over a shrub, her falling down hair successfully hiding her expression, but Ray could imagine what it was like. Halcyon. Peaceful, as she felt the warm kisses of the sun, immersed in the abundant perfume of the brilliant summer day, with the delicate petals between her fingers. Petals as blue as the sky.

Sometimes it stung, this mixture of happiness and sadness when he was looking without being seen.

Ray slunk back, deeper into the shadows.

Rusty hues were spilling over the earlier pristine skyscape. It was time to go back to her.

Ray corked the test tube up and put his observations down in his journal.

The method has so far shown no results. No indication why the test subject is immune.

He slipped his worn lab coat off, adjusted the ruffle on his shirt, and put his jacket on.

Rushing through the slowly lighting up corridors, he was vaguely wondering if the colourful clothing did anything to liven him up.

She was in – he could hear the rustling pages, her low humming, the rhythm of her heart. This time she was to notice him.

A sharp intake of air – unnecessary but at the same time so very needed – and then a knock at the door.

“I’m here to collect the dishes.”

The moment she saw him in the threshold, MC lowered the book and placed it with the cover facing upwards on her knees. “You came! Please do, but why don’t you sit down with me for a while first? Rest a bit.”

“I—” he shook his head. Cutlery clattered loudly against the tray as she tried to help him tidy up. It was... nice. Being asked, that is. “I cannot. But I’ll be back soon with your dinner.”

MC shot up from her seat in the armchair, the book landing softly on the carpet, and handed him the dishes. “You’re doing it again.”

“What do you mean?

“Ignoring my invitations. Stay – nothing bad’s going to happen if you let yourself relax.”

Standing next to the window, she had her profile bathed in the dying out sunlight. Her eyes lit up with trust. She was so wrong.

He pressed his lips into a thin line as if that could seal the threat off.

“Later, I’ll bring you your food.”

Preparations for the next day’s examinations took longer than usually. He was tugging at the sleeves of his shirt, un-cuffing them as he strode to her room, the jacket left at the back of his seat in the laboratory.

He hated it, how pitch dark sky glimmering in the passed windows put him at ease. No need to omit the blots of natural light on the floor, to squint his eyes. Darkness was so easy, so safe.

But he missed the sun. It allowed flowers to bloom, added colour to pale cheeks, and never failed to raise on the following day. And it wasn’t for him anymore – the most he could do was to step back and, fixed behind the pane, observe the spectacle of life and death that went on without him.

It was harder to keep safe distance now that MC was here. She was everything that he could no longer dream to be. And even worse, she was dangerously trusting.

Still, he was the airhead here. How hopelessly he clung to the scraps of humanity her ignorance allowed! To – just for a while – talk to a human and be seen as one was worth all the consequences he was likely to face afterwards.

The way MC gazed at him and called his name – oblivious of the effect she had on him; unknowing that her soft smiles and kind words filled his thoughts long after he’d left her room. Even if with difficulty, he was able to control his vicious nature while handling her blood samples, but somehow a mere glance at her drew him like a moth to a flame. It wasn’t only about his condition, if at all, there was something else in MC than blood that tempted him, something he was scared he wasn’t able to refrain from much longer.

Without doubt she would curse him once she knew, but until that... he was going to keep clenching his fangs and squeezing his eyes.

He couldn’t bring himself to stop loving the sun despite the pain it entailed.

Ray stopped by the kitchen, heated up the soup and roast he’d prepared in advance, and headed to MC.

“I was held back by work. I’m sorry to bring you food this late.”

She was sitting in the same place as the last time he’d seen her, but this time her gaze was wandering about the vast greenery outside. Her expression unreadable.

“Eat with me,” she said, finally looking in his direction, “You brought more than enough for two.”

The tray made no sound as it was placed in front of her. “Thank you, but I’ve prepared it just for you. I’ll eat later.”

MC took a spoon and stirred the smooth surface in the bowl. A slight line appeared on her forehead as she tasted the soup. Did he put too much spices? Or was it too bland?

“You think I haven’t noticed. How you look wistfully outside, but never join me in the garden. You always reject food, and yet you always seem hungry. Eat with me.”

Were these tears that added shine to her eyes? No... was is determination? He took a sit opposite her.

“No, but I can accompany you a little if you wish so. When I invited you here for the tests, I believed I would get to spend more time with you. I apologise if you are being bored here.”

“Bored?” MC spoke over the mouthful of food. He’d almost starved her here! He had to remember from now on to bring food more regularly. “No, not bored. Just alone at times. But I’m really glad I can help.”

For the most time MC ate in silence, speaking up only to lavish praises on his cuisine. She ate with such appetite, he regretted he couldn’t join her.

“So, what have you been doing today?” she asked.

“Ah. I run some tests and prepared for tomorrow. Everything’s looking good so far, I think you’ll meet the Saviour in the matter of days.”

And then you’ll know the truth and hate the thought of being with me in one room.

“Saviour,” she repeated. “Ray, what exactly happens after the oath ceremony? Will I become a member like you?”

“No. I would never allow them to do that to you.” He stood up, the armchair scraping the floor. “I see you’re almost finished, I’ll leave you to get some rest.”

He wasn’t expecting this, so he couldn’t react in time when she moved to grab his hand. Thankfully, she held onto the part covered with the glove, which saved her from discovering the unnatural cool of his skin. “Let’s visit the garden before you go. Please, it will mean a lot to me.”

Ray was about to refuse, but something in her face didn’t let him. After all, it was his fault that she was sitting here all days virtually without anyone or anything to occupy her time. And while his desires were by no means his priority, he really wanted to see the garden with her.

He nodded.

“It’s different than during the day,” said MC, walking three steps ahead of him, “but it’s no less beautiful.”

Ray considered her words with curiosity. He was used to visiting the garden in nighttime, tending to it to fill the sleepless hours. There was no arguing it was different, but could it really be compared to the lively spectacle of the day?

Following her, Ray tried to look at the familiar trees and patches with the borrowed enthusiasm. The majority of flowers had hidden their buds, but there were night flowers too, evening primrose and night gladiolus, opening only now to fill the air with their fuddling sweetness. The buzzing of bees gave way to the cicadas’ concert. None of it was new to him, but somehow he found himself smiling, enchanted by his own garden.

“I wish we could see the moon,” she said dreamily, and turned to Ray as if remembering something. “Aren’t you cold? Maybe we should head back inside, I’d hate it if you caught something because of me.”

“It’s fine, we can stay longer if you wish.”

She tilted her head slightly sending him a quizzical smile, “Tell me if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

The distance between them was comforting, but MC waited for him. Ray entangled his hands behind his back, anxious not to touch her. When he caught up with her, she filled his senses with a doubled intensity, a unique fragrance putting all the exquisite flowers to shame.

“Ray? About what you said in my room... Are you alright? You know you can tell me if there’s something bothering you, right? ”

His new name was a constant reminder of what he’d lost, but it rolled so innocently off her tongue, without a shade of doubt that it could possibly not suit him. The first thing he had heard as a reborn, unwittingly filled with tragic irony. A “ray” doomed for darkness.

She took his wrists in her hands and even though this time Ray had seen what she was about to do, he did not move away. If she noticed his body temperature she hid it well or did not mind.

“Right?”

Her blood vessels pressed against his flesh, pulsating with vital energy, hot and quick, inviting.

Ray gulped. He shouldn’t be here. He really wanted to be here.

“Please, forget what I said.” He couldn’t look her in the eye, he knew her face was flushed, her lips lightly bitten on. Instead, he redirected his attention above her – to the leaves, swishing in the night breeze, to the moths hovering over the bushes. Only one part of the garden had fallen asleep, the other lived on, partaking in the cycle of life, still here even if easily overlooked.

“You were right about my garden. It is beautiful.”

“Is it really yours?” Her head whirled around taking the view in as if she saw it for the first time. “I haven’t seen a garden like this in... never actually. How is it possible?”

“It was an accident.” She raised her eyebrows and he couldn’t help but giggle. “A couple years back I discovered a substance, by chance, really, which temporarily reverses the contamination of the soil.”

“Temporarily? Will the flowers wither soon?”

“Isn’t it how nature works?” he smiled lightly, but the sadness did not leave MC’s expression. “Don’t worry, they will grow the way they would have before the Crash if I keep the soil fertilised.”

She nodded slowly, and he wandered if it was only now that she realised that beauty could not last. Each attempt to congeal it in time could at best lead to making a caricature out of it. A fleeting sense of acceptance, a glimmer of happiness – that was all. He was lucky to get to experience these once more after his time had already passed.

MC let go of him, but not for long, his hand was soon after clasped in her smaller one as she led him deeper into the garden.

“I especially love these,” she said, and even before she stood next to them, he had known which flowers she meant.

Her fingers found the bud like so many times before, but this time he was next to her as she felt the petals. Her other hand grazed lightly at his, and he found himself cursing his gloves.

“I never knew that before the Crash roses came in so many different shades.”

In this variety of flowers she had to pick blue roses. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her. Would she hate them if she knew roses would never grow like this on their own? Would she hate him?

That’s when her finger slipped onto the stem, harvesting a glimmering bead of blood when it hooked on a thorn.

He froze.

Without a blink, she put it in her mouth.

“Isn’t it nice?”

“W-what?”

“Being in your garden like this. You should come by more often, you deserve it – doing things that make you happy. I wish—“

Her words were drowned by the rushing of her blood in his ears, interjected rhythmically by her quickened heartbeat.

Was her body finally sensing the danger she had got herself into?

The small cut on her finger became the centre of his universe before his eyes followed the mesh of veins, blue under her thin skin, leading up her arms, higher and higher.

You deserve it. You deserve it.

It was the movement of her lips when she got closer that hinted to him she was speaking. He looked her in the eyes. As trusting and filled with life as ever. He would never. He’s better than that. He started breathing in and out just to calm himself.

“—happy too. If you feel the same and if you let me, I’ll be telling you how dear you are to me every day for the rest of our lives.”

Her hands wandered up and rested on his shoulders. She was so close he could see a lost eyelash on her cheek, and moved to take it off before he could think about it properly.

“Let me care for you, for a change.”

His mouth was taking the shape of rejection, and he knew it would take only one word for her to leave him alone. She wouldn’t do anything against his will.

And this was why he bent a little and met her lips halfway, instantly melting into their warmth. Softer than he’d ever dared to imagine.

She threw her hands around his neck, and he didn’t know where his hands went, so completely he got lost in the moment; his rationality drown out by her raging heartbeat, so deafeningly loud.

Absently he noticed how desperate her movements were getting, losing their initial shyness. Their mouths opened more widely in unison, but she was the first one to caress him so carelessly.

He gasped in surprise when one of her hands tugged lightly at his hair. MC giggled, but didn’t stop, instead turning his attention back to her tongue, which was now gliding over his lips.

Another kiss – deeper and more hasty than the previous ones, and he parted unwillingly to let her breathe, grazing his teeth over her lower lip and pulling at it in a way mirroring her own teasing games.

She jumped back, yelping.

MC patted with the back of her hand on her puffed lips, but Ray knew what she would see. A droplet of her blood almost burned a hole in his tongue.

Slowly, she raised her eyes to his. Only then he realised that his own mouth was hanging agape. He draped his hand over the offensive view, but it was too late.

“R-ray? What...?”

He shook his head heavily as if it could nullify what had just happened. Now she knew. It was over. It was all over.

He managed a choked out “sorry” before running off.

He was going to miss her.  

[oneeyeddestroyer]

Sharing Skin: The Home Game (Part 1)

Atmospheric and sensual, Sharing Skin has produced a handful of you mentioning just how much it makes you want a good bath. The goal of the prose was to create a unmistakable relaxing vibe with just the right touch of decadence. The bulk of my planning period for this fic was crafting the delicate details of each bath, piece by piece. Every aroma, every color, every bubble, every bath bomb, every drink, all the way down to the flower petals and the snacks, was hand picked to build an ambiance (as Eliot would say) and indicate the overall mood of the characters in that scene.

As a little treat, I wanted to curate some of my favorite bath essentials*. Recipes, products, mood lighting and wine pairings for your nerves!

We’re going to take it bath by bath to help you guys recreate the magic of each chapter. That was super fucking cheesy, but I bet you lived for it anyway. I think El and Margo are really starting to rub off on me. 😉

Bath One: What We Deserve

Upon entering the room, Margo’s fingers twist intricately and the room fills with cool, flickering light. She’s always loved the way Eliot’s skin looks in blue.

The first bath is pretty simple: brisk, refreshing air, cool toned lighting, sparkling wine, bubbles and a quick smoke.

While I can’t magically alter the tone and color of the lighting, I do have this pretty fucking best oil diffuser with color changing lights. There are a few really neat ones on the market, and I’ll link to a couple I have personal experience with. Easy to use, you add a few drops of essential oil into a small amount of water in the basin, and let it do all the work of diffusing a fine, gorgeously scented mist of your own creation. The lights change color in a slow, fluid movement, and some can be made to maintain a single color light with soft pulsing effects. Mine is Bluetooth compatible so I can play all the Enya I want as I take a soak.

Recommendations:

1. Colorful Essential Oil Diffuser

2. Ultrasonic Bluetooth Oil Diffuser

If you’re a drinker, sparkling wine is easily the best part of any bath. A nice, chilled wine is both refreshing and lovely balance to the heat of the bath—it doesn’t hurt to have a glass of ice water in the side as well. I’m not a huge fan of proper champagne, so I’ll share some of my favorite sparkling wines instead.

Something Dry

La Marca Prosecco is affordable a delicious. Not too dry, but certainly not too sweet either. Super lovely for people who are a little shy on dry whites.

Something Sweet

Bartenura wines are so fuckin delightful. If you like sweet wines, these are definitely for you if you haven’t already tried them. Fruity and fun, and also Kosher if I am not mistaken

A Rosé

Grapefruit isn’t everyone’s jam, but if you’re down to try something new, this shit is fucking delicious. A lot of wines get described and crisp and refreshing, and this is the first time I fully experienced what that could mean for a wine. It’s definitely worth the shot even if you’re not super keen on grapefruit. Eliot and Margo would definitely want you to try new things. 😉

For the bubble bath, instead of recommending a product, I wanted to share an easy recipe to make your own. Hand making bath and skin care products is a low key hobby of mine and it’s a ton of fun.

Simple Bubble Bath Recipe:

½ cup warm distilled water

½ cup liquid castile soap, scent of your choice (find unscented castile soap here)

¼ cup vegetable glycerin (find organic glycerin here)

a few drops of essential oils of your choosing

Combine all the ingredients and stir them until they're even and smooth. Over time they may separate, so just give them a quick shake in the container until they mix back together, just don’t shake too hard or it will froth up before it’s time for your bath. There is a premature ejacualation joke in there somewhere, I’m sure of it. 😂

I’m not a smoker, and I certainly do not smoke indoors, but I have had a casual smoke after a bath before, it really hits the spot if that is a thing you do. Some hookah, a vanilla clove, or handmade cigarettes of herbs like lavender and damiana can be truly lovely if you’re so inclined. Or, you know, you could just smoke weed like a normal 20-something, your call.

Bath Two: Intertwined

A quick dance of her fingers around each other causes the candles lining the tub to ignite, one by one. The warm flickering illuminates the room with a soft glow.

For best results, wait for a rainy day and bring a friend.

A minimalist bath after a rough night. Budget whiskey, candles, and maybe a good smoke at the end of it all before calling it a night.

Floating candles are a great way to create a simple but relaxing vibe. You can go through the delicate balancing act of lighting real candles and keeping them afloat without putting them out, or you can use these nifty, waterproof LED floating candles and save yourself the trouble. Maximum vibe for minimum effort is Eliot and Margo as fuck.

Whisky recommendations (Eliot takes his in a flask here, but feel free to have yours in a glass, maybe with a spot of water or over cold stones):

Bushmills 10 Year

Jameson Black Barrel

Knob Creek Straight Bourbon Whiskey

Bath Three: Winner’s Circle

Margo nods her approval as she settles against Eliot’s chest. With the bubble situation under control, the soft, rosy gold water is visible where their bodies emerge from bubbles. As their movements still, the water shimmers with brilliance that could make the night sky jealous as the light catches individual flecks of glitter.

Confession: I spent way too much time on the Lush website trying to dream up this bath. I suffered through hours of product reviews and ASMR videos of “Lush Cocktails” before I finally settled on the right mix of products. I will never look at a strainer the same way again.

If you’d like to soak in your own gloriousness a la Bath 3, you’ll need to pick up Sunnyside (a lovely citrusy bubble bar with glitter for DAYS) and The Comforter (the classic black currant bubble bar that many considers Lush staple, and a personal favorite) from your local Lush or order them from the website. Combined, they make the prettiest rose gold. It’s everything, I promise! The bubble bars are designed to be broken apart and used in small chunks, because they create a serious amount of bubbles. I’d cut them in pieces and use a small chunk of each, or you can go buckwild like El and Margo, but expect some serious overflow if you do it right.

Oh! And bonus points for setting up a trophy to gaze at as you soak.

If you liked one of the wines from the first bath, you can easily pair it with this bath too, or you can use one of these. I will alway have more wine to recommend.

Something Dry

Ruffino Prosecco is lovely, dry and fruity. It can be a touch pricier than La Marca, but not by much. Totally affordable—as most proseccos are— and tasty. Even if you don’t really like dry whites, it’s hard to go wrong with a prosecco.

Something Sweet

Martini & Rossi Asti. Affordable, sweet, Italian sparkling wine. It’s self explanatory and delicious.

A Rosé

I told you guys I live for Bartenura wines. The Malvasia di casorzo is seriously one of my favorite wines. Sweet and fruity, it’s just really fucking good. I won’t try to sell you with somm lingo and flavor notes like “wilted vines” and “fresh tennis balls”, just drink the wine. If you like sweet, it’s awesome.

Bath Four: Delusions, Major and Minor

Notes of ripe, juicy peach, and hint of honey fill the air. The bath water is a bright, creamy orange with a soft light glowing from beneath the surface. Their subtle movements create a shimmer as they stir the water.

**

Margo lightly strokes the water and hums as she considers her next choice. She brings her hands together, rolling her wrists over each other before stitching her fingers together in an intricate shape. A deliberate tap of the surface of the bath with her middle finger causes the water to turn pink beneath her touch. The color ripples out from the point of contact in concentric waves, quickly changing the entire bath. With the same finger, she traces a small sigil on the back of Eliot’s left hand to tie him into the spell. Eliot makes three quick taps along the surface of the bath. Orange, yellow and red diffuse into the water, the edges of Eliot’s colors are much more feathered and frayed than Margo’s. The colors swirls together, blending into beautiful gradients when they come into contact with each other and the pink hues from Margo. The result is somewhere between the light of a setting sun and an abstract painting.

I have a couple of ways you could recreate this bath if you’re so inclined. If you want to go for the bright, peachy vibe complete with Bellini, a peach scented bath bomb while you rub yourself down with scrubee will give you that mix of ripe stone fruit and honey. (And don’t skimp on scrubee, that bad boy will leave your skin silky smooth and hydrated as fuck and the scent is incredible) The bath bombs I wanted to recommend seen to mostly be out of stock, but I hope a few come back for the summer months.

Peachy by Lush

Pretty as a Peach by Bath & Body Works

Honey Peach by Sabon

Basic Bellini recipe:

One part peach nectar

2 parts prosecco

If you want to get really fancy with it, you can purée a couple of peaches and mix one part of that with 2 parts prosecco (or you can flip those proportions if you want a more fruit heavy cocktail), but if you want to get fancy without doing a ton of work, you can buy a peach nectar instead. Just make sure it’s the good stuff, actual peach nectar, and not some sugary “fruit juice blend” where none of the fruits involved are actual peaches. I’ve used both Goya and Jumex. I always garnish with a peach wedge or wheel.

If you don’t want to go with the peach bath, you could do a multicolored bath instead. Hot Topic has a cute dragon egg bathbomb that changes a colors as it fizzes and finally settles into a nearly black final bath color. It’s super fucking huge and so much fun.

Continued in Part 2

*I am not paid or sponsored in any way shape or form, nor am I associated with any of the above brands, licenses, etc.. I’m just overly enthusiastic about a fanfiction I wrote and a slut for good bath vibes.

[beheadingofmakai]

“Baller”

Lance “The Monster God” @tainbocuailnge hit me with:

for writing prompts, how about someone drunk bidding on a sword (or other weapon you're the one who knows shit about weapons) on ebay only to find out when it arrives that it is a magic and/or possessed sword that /desperately/ wants to belong to some mythical ancient hero despite it being the good old year of 2018 and if it has to whip its new owner into shape then so be it

So sit back, grab your pop corn, and let Uncle Drimo Beheading tell you the story of an unemployed man who drank a little bit too much and got in a scuffle with a mysterious man with an anime avatar, an event that changed his life.

                                                          ———  

“...And who the shit has an anime avatar on ePay?! You mean this freaking nerd outbid me? Get the hell out, let’s see what other deals he’s in, you’ve crossed the wrong unemployed drunk, shithead.”

The dark room’s sole source of light was the monitor’s light blue hue, reflected on a man’s glasses that sat in front of two tired, drunken, furious eyes.

2:38 AM, three bottles of schrobbeler, twelve cans of stout and a small army of discarded potato chip bags. It was a particularly bitter Friday, now Saturday, for Jan, and what better remedy for the sorrows of modern life than senseless spending? Like syrup finding is way down one’s throat, vigilantly hunting for a cold, the act of burning money seems oddly cathartic. It’s very much just pretending one’s current problems aren’t there by simply creating more trouble for oneself in the future. And sometimes, this future trouble is worth it if one’s splurging involves spiting someone with an anime avatar and a lot of booze. Not really, but it sure as hell seems so during the heat of a bid war.

“You think you’re hot shit, xX_KimikoKisser937_Xx? That I’m gonna let you flaunt your weight around just because you got some disposable income? I’m gonna shit on your sofa!”

Bills are a pain in the ass, aren’t they? Water, light, real estate, food expenses, cab fare... We’re lucky these brutes haven’t found a way to pipe oxygen and charge us for it yet, but it is what it is. And for bills, you need a job, for you kill those with your paycheck. Things were rocky, but stable enough the last few months for Jan Wildemors, but just yesterday, Fate decided to be that unlikable bitch we all hate and that hates us back, and he was laid off. No feedback or reason given, either. He was handed his stuff in a box that was missing a flap, and told to go, thank you for your hard work the last eight months, which is a very polite and corporate way of saying “go choke on a cat-o-nine-tails composed entirely of dildos”.

“Hah! Really regret on screwing me over with that keyboard now, don’t you, jackass?” Jan adjusted his glasses as he proudly asserted his dominance, victory his, not really sure what he just bought, but satisfied with the knowledge that he did. Hooray, unhealthy coping mechanisms! With his objective complete and his body at its limit, Jan went down like a glorious baboon that just missed a branch during its jump, his face smacking his desk as he lost consciousness like an ape plummets down a tree: With a lot of drool and a dull thud.

                                                          ———  

“Now, hold on just a second, let me check one more time with my bank, and--”

“Hey, you bought it, I just deliver it, now please just sign up already, and with all due disrespect, wear some pants next time. The day’s not even begun, and your hairy legs already ruined it. And yesterday too, retroactively.”

As the confused, unemployed man signed the paper on the clipboard (with a lent pen, of course), he was left one on one with the fruit of his idiocy: An ornate box, long and purple, the most expensive thing in the small apartment by far without even accounting for whatever it contained. “Oh man, oh man, I really messed up last night...”. Well! Whatever! It’s here already, so might as well open it! The best part of messing up is when you finally realize there’s no use in crying over spilled! Hooray, unhealthy coping mechanisms!

Inside the long and purple box was nothing other than a longsword, ornate and majestic. It was at this point that our dearest Jan propped a chair close to the window and prepared himself to just fucking throw himself out of it headfirst into the speeding traffic from the fourth floor.

“Welp, that’s that. I went and bought a sword. A sword. I can’t buy anything fancier than instant ramen or soggy lettuce leaves, not even the whole thing, I just got laid off from my job, and the first thing my drunk ass does is buy a sword. No wonder I had no cash when I checked in the morning. Well, alright, I’d like to thank my father for my ethics, my mother for my sense of humor, and neither of them for my savvy with finances, now let’s check out heaven, alley oop!”

“A moment, if you would.”

“Oh, sweet, the delirium is starting to kick in, I can hear voices! I love nervous breakdowns!”

“Face me when I speak to you, boy.”

Jan froze in place. This was the first time the panic voices ever were so untoward. He considered, for just a second, that maybe he truly wasn’t alone in this room, that perhaps, against all odds, that which was inside the box was the one...

“...Yes, it is I that speaks to you, now turn around and face me already, you unruly child.”

In the words of Oscar Wilde himself: “Holy shite”. 

“Hold on, what, no one told me swords could speak.”

“And they normally don’t, but I am not a normal sword.”

On top of the chair, wearing only a sleeveless white t-shirt and coffee stained boxers, Jan Wildemors faced the sword in the purple box, a faint silver aura blanketing it, the two staring at each other while Jan comprehended, little by little, that his mundane life was about to end. The faint glow of the morning sun that filtered in through the closed blinds accentuated this scene, the young man’s face stained with lines of bewilderment and amazement.

He then faced the window and tried to throw himself out again.

“H-hey, stop trying to kill yourself for a second and hear me out, will you not!? What kind of reaction is this to the honor of being addressed to by Moonflare itself!”

“Yeah, no thanks! I’m not only unemployed and in debt, now I am being plunged into some magic nonsense that I want no part of! This truly is the end for me!”

“Wait, you’ve no job and you owe money? That’s less than ideal, young one.”

“And now a sword is criticizing my life choices! This sucks!”

“Just hear me out, damn it!”

“Aaaaaa!”

“Aaaaaa!”

                                                        “Baller”

                                                          ———  

“Coffee or juice?”

“I’m a sword.”

“Yeah.”

The young man sat in front of the sword, sipping his coffee, finally wearing pants, the weapon unmoved from the purple box, its faint silver flow still emanating like a candle at the end of a long, dark hallway. A resigned sigh is all the young man could muster, lifting his arms in very real surrender.

“Alright, let’s do this. What’s up?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s up’? First your purchase me and now you wonder what the dickens I am? Where is it that I came from? How could you possibly acquire a Resonant Arm without knowing? Is this some manner of jest?”

“Yeah, look, I’m not going to lie to you, Monsieur Sword, I--”

“Moonflare.”

“Hm?”

“I’m no Monsieur, nor am I a Madame, I am a sword with a name, and that name is Moonflare. Be sure to use it.”

“Yeah, sure. Anyways, so yesterday, I was laid off from my job, so I got real damn drunk, and decided, yeah, Imma buy a gaming keyboard! It’s a sound investment! It’ll improve my morale and help out with my job hunting!”

“Uh huh...”

Jan stretched and sipped from his coffee, making keyboard motions with his free hand. “No, for real, reward yourself, and then be responsible without a regret! It works! Sometimes! Unfortunately, the model I wanted was the last one in stock in ePay, this bidding website for online transactions--”

“You bought me online!?” Moonflare cut in.

“What, that weird?”

“I’m a Resonant Arm! It’s akin to saying someone bought a priceless relic on the internet!”

“Well, about that...” Jan produced his smartphone, tapped it a couple of times, and pointed the screen to the hilt, where he assumed the sword’s “eyes” were. Jan is no sword biologist, so we hope you’ll excuse his beginner’s mistake. “...People kinda buy really expensive things like the Mona Liz--”

“Someone bought the Mona Lizard!?”

“On the internet.”

“Curses!”

“Yeah, so I guess you ended up being sold off online, and whether your previous owner knew about you being a Restaurant Arm or not is anyone’s guess, but the fact is, the keyboard I wanted was ripped from my bloody, splintered fingers by some asshole with an anime avatar that outbid me at the last second. So I got mad and went to outbuy him in something else he was putting money in for.”

“...What for?”

“A foolish and short-lived sense of satisfaction and spite.”

“Marvelous, and that’s how you came to own me.”

“That’s the whole shebang, ya.”

If the sword had eyes, their revolutions per second would create a localized cyclone. It was clear this was a six piece McNobody who just obtained them as a consequence of bad impulse control and good taste in alcohol.

“...Well then,” Moonflare finally let out, as if forcing words out of its sword throat. “You know, at least you’re honest. Well, this might just be what you need.”

Jan’s eyebrow raised inquisitively. “...What do you mean?”

“This could be destiny at play, young man. No job, crippling debt, the end of the road, that’s what life is for you right now. And at the moment of most need, when you see the horizon as a guillotine encroaching on your throat with each passing day, cooped up in this cell that no doubt will be subjected to embargo, you come across me, Moonflare the Pilgrimbreaker, Resonant Arm... No doubt you see where this is going, right?”

“What are you suggesting...?” Jan inquired, his interest thoroughly piqued.

“You can be a Hero. I can make you a Hero. One worthy of wielding the real me. Look around you, you know you want this. Say, what’s that poster over there, above the couch?”

Jan looked to where the sword had verbally pointed and found his old Funny Fantasy VII poster, with its protagonist boldly wielding his weapon in an action pose.

“It’s my Funny Fantasy VII Collector’s Edition poster. It’s my favorite game ever.”

“And who is that brazen, courageous man showcased oh so prominently in the forefront?”

“That’s Clown Strife! A failed JESTER who didn’t have it in him to make it big in the ranks of the CIR.cus organization! After taking to wandering as a mercenary, his freelancing eventually landed him smack in the middle of a huge, world-class incident!”

“Poetic, is it not? You’ve just been released from your own job, you’re swamped in debt, and nothing seems to be going right... And that’s when we cross roads. It’s not only that you don’t really have a choice, this is the right choice. We’ll make it big.”

For the first time in years, Jan’s eyes shone with a fire they had long forgotten. Hopping from job after job, doing shit he didn’t wanna do, forcing smiles for nasty bosses who didn’t give a damn about him... It could all be over. It could all remain in the past, were he to become a Hero.

“I’ll do it.” he said, resolution dripping from his voice and fire emanating from his eyes like a faulty smelter. “Let’s do this!”

                                                          ———  

“Let’s not do this!”

“Quit whining and give me ten more laps!”

“Stop giving me more laps!”

“Then stop whining, cur!”

It’s been a week of this tragedy. Day after day, night after night, the sword and man duo engaged in this pitiful play. Moonflare, the sharpest drill sergeant in town, attacked the would-be Hero with arduous routine after routine, if one could call “20 hours straight of morbidly harsh training” a routine, by any stretch. When he was finally done doing suspended midair push-ups with a tire, Moonflare gave the signal (which is a disappointed sigh, by the way), and Jan finally came down.

“You’ve got the physical condition, Jan, you are fit and can move well, but you don’t take pressure well.” the sword chided. “How are we going to achieve fame like this?”

“...”

This silent reply didn’t go unnoticed.

“Is there something that’s bothering you, young one?”

“Yes, actually. You keep mentioning ‘fame’. We need to be the best to cause an impression this, we need to be at our peak condition that, you seem really obsessed with fame. Isn’t a Hero’s role to save people in the first place?”

But now, the silence came from the sword.

“...Hey, I’ve put up with this for a week, you could at least tell me what a Restaurant Arm is already in addition to answering to what I just said. I’m breaking my back, almost literally, here.”

“You make a good point.” the sword replied with what almost was a sigh. “A Resonant Arm, and please get ‘Resonant’ right already, is a weapon crafted with a fragment of a powerful weapon of legend. In this body, I am powerful sword with capabilities far beyond regular weapons, yet, I’m still a shade of my true potential. It’s because only a shard of my original body is in this shell.”

“Oh! So wait, you’re not just some delirium or haunted sword with delusions of grandeur?”

“I ought to pierce a lung of yours for that statement, hmph! Indeed, I am not a figment of your desperate psyche, I am indeed THE Moonflare, the Pilgrimbreaker, the Discipliner, the...”

Jan scratched his head as he drank some water as Moonflare went on and on with his titles before he interjected. “I’ve never heard of you.”

That window shattering in the distance? That’s Moonflare’s confidence you just heard. “...Yeah, that’s the problem.”

“Hm?”

“...I am a legendary weapon, but I am unsung, because my previous master didn’t care for fame in the slightest.”

Jan simply looked at the sword, as if telling it to go on.

“...Centuries ago, I belonged to The Pilgrimbreaker, a very unknown Hero. There’s no records of her real name, for she refused to announce it, there’s no records of her face, for she always wore a helmet that shrouded it, and there’s no records of where she went to after the Mana Turbulence, for she disappeared without saying a word after all was said and done. Just a few souls in this world know about her, hence why I’m an unsung legendary weapon.”

“Huh... I was thinking she was small time, but the Mana Turbulence was a big deal way back in the day, wasn’t it? Was she weak compared to the other Heroes or something?”

“Nonsense!” Moonflare suddenly raised its voice in stark contrast to its usual calm bearing. “Pilgrimbreaker was the real deal! I never could see eye to eye with her, but I will never tolerate illspeak of her!”

“W-woah!”

“Her form was perfect, her mind impenetrable, her defense unbreakable and her aggression irresistible! She struck fear in whoever was in the wrong side of her blade! Do you know where she got the moniker of Pilgrimbreaker, boy!?”

“Moonflare, calm down, I didn’t mean to--”

“She singlehandedly infiltrated the dread cavern where the Pilgrims Of Brozarok held the Ritual Of Turbulence, which would’ve torn the world’s apart thrice had it been completed, and killed every last one of the wicked dastards! Her arm swished left and right, which each move an impact responding, each swipe a life taking, over and over, dodging curses and enduring maladies! She fought for an entire two days, killing every single Pilgrim in the cavern. By the time four hours had passed, I had gone dull from the sheer and excessive amount of cleaving, and yet, she relented not! With myself as a blunt hunk of moonsteel, she kept going, going, and going! What once were slashes now were blunt strikes, but her sheer strength would break them apart all the same! By the forty eighth hour, when she had broken every Pilgrim and stopped the Ritual, her own sword arm lay shattered and her muscles swollen. She saved the world! She saved us all...”

“...But she’s not famous, not unlike the other Heroes whose names are now in history books, huh?”

Today, Jan learned that swords could indeed cry. “Indeed... The other Heroes actually acknowledged and respected her. Some admired her! They worked together many times, and they were all equally instrumental in stopping the Turbulence. However, she always insisted in others not singing her praises. She foolishly refused to reveal face or name, and eventually, history forgot her.”

“...I guess that explains why you were sold as an antique at best online. No one knows the true of your previous Master, and thus, of your deeds.”

“...Yes. I suppose that makes sense.”

“So I guess your true body, that is, the true Moonflare is elsewhere, if only a fragment is built in you?” Jan inquired, going back to that topic not only because of his genuine curiosity, but also to change the topic, as it clearly was a sensitive topic for Moonflare.

“Yes and no. The ‘true’ Moonflare would imply I’m a fake one. I am indeed Moonflare, just, not in my true body. This blade was forged with a fragment found in the cavern where the Pilgrims met their end. As thus, I have consciousness in this ‘body’. Resonant Arms are called a such because they resonate with their true bodies, and can thus direct their owners to the real legendary weapons. Since it’s my body, I know where it is -- where I am.”

Jan’s eyes shot wide open and he choked on water. “Pwaah! H-hold on, if we can go get your real body, then why haven’t we done that?! We’ve just been wasting time for a week!”

“It’s not that easy. I need to make sure you are worthy. Not anyone can handle a legendary weapon, and you need to show me your physical and mental aptitude. That’s why, today, we’ll have a little test.”

“What? What’s this test? If you make me run more laps, I swear to Aunt Jemima I’ll--”

“We’ll go and do heroic deeds! The streets are dangerous at night, no? We’ll go and stop a crime! Then, I shall judge you!”

“Oh!”

It was finally time. After a whole week of this tiresome nonsense, of pushing his body to the utter limit, of ragging his muscles to shreds, it was finally time to engage in the whole Heroing dealio! And Jan, our strapping would-be Hero, simply couldn’t wait.

                                                          ———  

The streets of the city aren’t exactly what you’d call safe. In fact, they are not what you’d call “oh they are alright as long as you stay in the main streets and by the light”, either. Every back alley you see is a brave new world of armed robbery and assault, with your neck and wallet ripe for the taking. The ideal place to truly thrive as the scum of society and get your doctorate in banditry. Why, just now, a helpless office worker, on her way back from overtime, has found herself tangled in an interesting business proposition between herself and a switchblade pressed against her neck. The switchblade’s companion, a rather forceful fellow with an iron grip and a neck covered in veins, currently yells at her politely, suggesting she voluntarily makes a generous donation to his wallet. How beautiful they are, the streets of this city, rife with opportunity and bankrupted in morals and safety.

Little did the streets know that a brand new market element was about to change their business dynamic.

“Hold it right there, fiend!”

The sudden voice blindsided the mugger not from behind, but from above. As his neck craned to see just who in the world would dare interrupt such an important business meeting, he soon found his answer: It was the man wielding a longsword that currently plummeted towards him.

“The fu--!” The mugger moved out of the way in time to avoid feasting on boots, finally finding himself face to face with the vigilante. The lady that was being mugged couldn’t help but stare in disbelief at the cloaked figure of justice, its silver blade glimmering under the moonlight with unnatural fervor. The billowing cape and the small domino mask made it abundantly clear that this was no mere civilian, this was a vigilante who meant business.

“R-repent now, wrongdoer! Surrender yourself peacefully, and you may yet know mercy!”

“Oi! What’s wrong! Don’t stutter your lines!” Moonflare whispered.

“H-how do you expect me not to!? These lines are so cheesy and stupid...! J-just let me handle the script, yeah?”

“Absolutely not! Who is the seasoned legendary weapon here? If I may be so bold, I believe I know more about this whole Hero business than you do! Just follow my lead and we’ll rake in the fame I de-- we deserve! Now shush!”

With a sigh, Jan simply surrendered and went along with it, dramatically pointing the sword towards his foe. “Hark! Release the dame or taste the righteous fury of the Pilgrimbreaker, miscreant! Know that I shan’t stay my hand a second longer!”

“...pfff...”

A small chuckle finally interrupted the monologue of the would-be Hero. It wasn’t the mugger that let it out, however, it was the victim.

“pppfff... I-I’m sorry, but wow, you are extremely lame. A domino mask? Cape? Really? What C-list telenovela did you jump out from? Shouldn’t you be looking for your missing baby? Maybe slashing ‘Z’s on walls like a loser? Please do me a favor and let me get robbed, it’d be far more dignified than letting you save me, Costume Party.” the lady mercilessly commented, performing Herculean efforts to contain her laughter.

“Shit, I know, right? Who goes, ppfppfffffff, who goes all ‘reepehnt villuns!’ anymore? Did your mom slam dunk you when you were a child, guy? Cloak and mask over sweatpants and a sleeveless wife beater with coffee stains? Really?” the robber added, shaking his head.

“A full outfit is expen--”

“Then don’t wear any at all, idiot! You only look like an overgrown manchild going out trick or treating! You really looked at yourself in the mirror and thought, ‘yeah, this is cool, I look like justice itself, I’ll drown in pussy!’?” the supposed victim harshly mocked, her laughter now out of control.

“Pffff, yeah right, this guy couldn’t score in brothel. His birth certificate is an apology note from the condom factory. Imagine being this asshole’s mom!”

“Oh, fuck off! Someone carried this thing for nine months! Imagine looking at this dude’s FateBook and seeing him posting pics of his outfit, like, ‘Yeah! Ready to fight crime! #Herointhemaking’, and then thinking, yeah, I did this, I made this, I was irritable and in pain for 9 months so I could bring this specimen to the world. At that point, I rip my ovaries out with my own hands and play ping pong with them.” she mercilessly chided.

“Bwaaahahahaha! Hey, you are really funny, and pretty cute, now that I look at you.” observed the criminal, apparently taken with her, now that he could see her better, out of the darkest reaches of the back alley.

“You are not bad yourself... I like a man that can handle a knife. Say, are you free right now? I’d like to unwind after work. We had a meeting today and my bitch of a supervisor, who happens to be why I drink, was on one of those moods today.”

“I’m down for that. I know a really good place here, they have craft beer really cheap, since they make it themselves, and the steak is to die for. Let’s leave Captain Virgin behind and get started!”

The mugger and the victim looked at each others’ eyes with just an inkling of passion for a few seconds before walking away, arm in arm, leaving behind our would-be Hero, the night young and ripe for their taking. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship that would steer the young man towards rehabilitation and for him to abandon the ways of the petty street criminal, working long and hard for his doctorate in electrical engineering, a career he dropped out of, with the loving support of his girlfriend, whose own lifestyle greatly improved thanks to his good domestic skills and the encouraging fire of his pep talks. Together, they had three children (two of them twins) and lived a happy, humor filled life, growing old together, hand in hand.

Anyways, back to the present, where Jan’s self-esteem was shattered into so many pieces that you couldn’t even vacuum clean them.

“...What did just happen...?” Moonflare inquired, confused, no scratching his sword chin with the sword hand it didn’t have.

“C-crime successfully prevented! A-all part of the plan!”

“Are you crying?”

“Of joy!”

“Are you also trembling of joy?”

“Y-yup!”

“...In your parlance, this ‘sucked’, didn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“I really don’t know what to say, Jan. This is the first time I see an attempt at crimestopping end up in matchmaking. You might be cut out to be a Cupid more than a Hero, perhaps. Well, no matter, let’s try with the next--”

“Oh no no, look here, we’re not doing this again.” the would-be Hero vehemently declared, ripping his tiny domino mask off and throwing it in a nearby trash can. “No way. This sucks. Your way sucks. I’m absolutely not doing this your way. Look, we’re doing this my way, or it’s the highway for you.”

“Fool, I’ve got more experience, you must listen to me, and then we’ll be famous!” argued Moonflare, its silver glow intensifying as if to show irritation.

“You’ve no legs, so the highway means I’ll dunk you into the nearest river and call it a day. Now, you listen to me and you better listen well, Moonflare.” Jan’s voice finally hardened up, much like his grip on Moonflare’s hilt. “I’m neck-deep in debt, out of a job, stuck with a stupid sword that talks like a shitty Shakespearian secondary character, humiliated and ready to go and throw myself off that window, just like I should have. You either take me to your real body right now, or I’ll really make sure no one can find you. I’ll take a damn loan for a shovel and some scubba gear, dipshit. I’ll bury you at the bottom of a river or a lake, and no one will know.”

“Jan, please wait, you are clearly making a hasty decision here, your body and mind are not ready for the brunt of a legendary weapon,  just follow my lead and--”

“And keep playing Cupid to victims and their would be assailants? Fuck off and fuck you. You’ve three seconds to start leading the way.”

Seeing as there was no convincing Jan, Moonflare finally complied, giving in to the demands of Captain Vir-- Jan.

                                                          ———  

Marble tiles, ivory pillars, and a massive sanctum lit only by mysterious floating gems that shone a dim blue. This was the Sanctum Of Moonflare, hidden deep within the underground, a place impossible to reach unless you know of it, as the path to it will capriciously twist and curve to kick you out if you don’t, leading you back to the entrance, no doubt all part of the arcane architecture that the gnomes who built this place are known for. Only Heroes, or those with the aptitude to become one, could reach this place.

“Well, it’s awfully convenient that this was located under the sewers of my city. What are the odds?”. Jan wore his trademark sleeveless white t-shirt and black sweatpants, without the silly cape and mask, of course. The majestic room clearly had gotten his attention, his eyes scanning the place thoroughly with child-like admiration, whistling at the intricate handiwork of the engravings in the ivory pillars that held the place together. “Sure looks like a place where you’d find a legend!”

“Odds had nothing to do with it.” curtly replied Moonflare. “We are no longer underneath your city. We are far, far away, in another country, actually.”

“Oh, quit it. We just went down a manhole, don’t try to embellish your shitty tale more than you need to.”

“I speak the truth, cur. This place is not subject to the physics and logic of the world. All Sanctums that hold a legendary weapon are hidden away in places that would be impossible to reach physically, and instead, one must know of the place and fulfill a certain number of rules in order to reach them. My Sanctum, as an unsung weapon, hasn’t difficult rules, as you can see.”

“I assume they are something like ‘knowing about the place’, ‘travelling underground while intending to reach it’, and ‘carrying a fragment of Moonflare’?”

The sword didn’t respond for a few seconds. “...That’s spot on, actually. Those are the three rules. How did you...?”

“Intuition. Places like this turn up in games and novels a lot. Perhaps they were inspired by the real tales of old Heroes in the first place, with no one knowing any better.”

“...The era of mass information is terrifying.” the sword lamented, still not used to the 21st century.

In the center of the massive Sanctum, a staircase led to an altar where a protrusion with a sword planted in it could be seen. As the duo approached the gorgeous marble staircase, the engravings of the ivory altar, which turned out to be runes, glowed with the same dim blue at the crystals that floated aimlessly, resonating with the fragment in the incomplete Moonflare, the structure making a noise that was simultaneously organic and mechanical.

“Well, it’s ready. Try and fail so we can get out of here.”

“...So, you are a sword in a stone that only the worthy can pull out, huh?”

“Good, seems you’re familiar with the concept. Saves me having to explain it to you. This is what I meant when I said you were not ready. Now, give it your futile go so we can go back and apply ourselves to accruing fame.”

As Jan’s hand approached the indigo hilt of the true Moonflare, just inches away before he could grip it, Jan and Moonflare were interrupted by a slow clap behind them.

“Bravo! You actually made it here. My compliments! Now, would you please turn around and face me, you thief? I’d so love to see your face.”

Surprised by the sudden personage, the duo turned around to see a man dressed in an exquisite purple suit, two long and curved blades hanging on his hips, one on each side. “What do you mean, ‘thief’? I ain’t taken a thing from you.”

“I disagree, you lout. That sword you insolently grip right now should have been mine to begin with.” he replied, his footsteps echoing in the ample hall as he approached Jan.

“Hold on... xX_KimikoFucker456_Xx!? Is that you!?”

“Kisser! xX_KimikoKisser937_Xx! Get it right!”

“So it is you, the weeb from ePay that outbid my keyboard! You asshole, I should’ve guessed only someone with an username like that would wear a tacky purple suit and carry two... Ppfff.... Two katanas! My goodness, you really are a disaster! Where’s your fedora? Shouldn’t you be at home complaining about the fairer sex?”

“These are tachi, you ignorant, insolent nobody! And the plural of ‘katana’ is ‘katana’, which you’d know if you knew anything about weaponry. You’ve got a lot of nerve to outbuy me for a Resonant Arm, but... I wager you had no clue it was one, am I wrong?”

“Oh, please, of course I kn--”

“He had no idea and everything you say is correct”

“Moonflare, shut up, the people with opposable thumbs are talking right now!”

“You’re telling me this is all because you were mad that I outbid you for a gaming keyboard? You went a got in a bidding war with me for a legendary weapon just because you couldn’t accept that someone took a blasted keyboard from you?”

“Ye.”

“Incredible.”

“Indeed, I said the same.”

xX_KimikoKisser937_Xx sighed and simply took a stance, his hand on the left tachi’s hilt. “...My name is Clement Marmaduke Solaris, and I challenge you to a duel for the Moonflare that you currently hold. In the impossible case that you defeat me, I shall gracefully relent and admit defeat, pursuing you nevermore.”

“Hey, quick question.” Jan shot at Clement as he readied his blade in a stance unlike anything Moonflare taught him during the hellish training week. “Does everyone involved with legendary weaponry and Heroes and all this jimjam talk like a loser nerd? Is it part of, like, a contract? Why do none of you speak like a fucking real person? Is it too hard to not be immediately unlikable as soon as you open your mouth?”

“...Do you accept my duel?”

“On one condition. If I win, you gotta give me the keyboard.”

“You’re still going on about that, Jan!?” the sword chastised, but Clement simply laughed.

“Very well. If I win, I get Moonflare, and if you win, you get the Palanquin Corsair K195 RGB Platinum Gaming Keyboard.”

With a nod, both men agreed to the terms of the duel, and not ten seconds passed before they were at it, the two clashing as the altar with the true Moonflare served as their judge. Eschewing all of the sword’s antiquated teachings, Jan’s fighting style was far more fluid and natural than the proper sword technique Moonflare would rather he used, involving tumbling on the ground and spinning, launching unpredictable slashes and thrusts from every direction and angle.

“Jan! What in the world is this!”

“Breakdancing! I do this a lot, hence why I was in shape before your training. Your formal style is too stiff and old, this suits me better!”

“We’ll never be famous with a silly style like this! Just use the proper style of Pilgrimbreaker, and--”

“Fame, fame, fame! It’s all you talk about! Put a sock on it, already! I don’t give a fuck!”

But just because he was doing much better didn’t mean he had the advantage. Clement’s technique was equally unorthodox, drawing his blade with lightning speed and re-sheathing it, shooting out attacks with immense force as he attacked and defended at the same time.

“Impressive, Jan. I didn’t think you’d last a second against my Iaijutsu.”

“Just like a weeb to use freakin’ Iai... But I hate to admit that you are really good at it.”

“Oh, you flatter me, but you’d seen nothing!”

Jan spun and flipped in the air to attack Clement with a smashing overhead, but the man in the suit, with practiced mastery and a cool head, blocked the attack using his tachi’s pommel, paralyzing Jan with the impact, and subsequently launching him across the room with a powerful sheath thrust to the gut, saliva and tears shooting from Jan’s face.

“Phwoo! Sh-shit... He’s really good...” Jan struggled to say as he cough and barely managed to get back on his wobbly feet, the air knocked out of him. “...He may be a loser, but he’s a strong one...!”

“Cease this child’s play and use the style I taught you already, Jan!”

“I’m afraid there’s no need to. I’m done playing.” Clement approached the duo, none the worse for wear, the pressure around him increasing tenfold compared to what it was before. He was clearly holding back, but playtime was over. “You are a disappointment, Jan. I held back to see if you truly had what it takes, but you don’t even clear the minimum requirement. That Moonflare and you are opposites, and thus, without ever agreeing on what your purpose should be, nay, in how you should even move, you’ll never unleash its true potential. Ready yourself.” Without letting go of the hilt on his left hip, Clement’s left hand now reached for the hilt on his right hip.

“...Wait, no way, are you really gonna--!”

“Hwaa!”

He was less a man and more a raging storm. With speed that defies comprehension, Clement’s attacks doubled in both velocity and quantity, employing iai strikes with both swords at the same time. If the flurry of one such blade was already difficult to keep up with, defending against this storm of steel was impossible. The sheer impact and velocity of the bladed tempest lifted Jan off the floor, silver and blood dancing around his helpless frame as his clothes were ragged to tatters, his mangled body landing square on the altar, next to Moonflare.

“H...Holy shit... I can’t fight that...”

The footsteps approached him. “Indeed, you can’t. Now, surrender the sword. You can’t keep going.”

There simply was no way for Jan to win. With a pained sigh and a bloody cough, he mustered the strength to extend Moonflare towards the Iai master. “Yeah, it makes sense for you to have it... You’ll make a better Hero than me in every way...”

“Hero...? What are you talking about?”

Jan twitched, confusion tinging his face. “Huh? Don’t you want Moonflare to become a Hero?” The statement was apparently a devastating joke, for Clement could barely contain his laughter.

“Of course not, silly. I just want Moonflare in my collection! I’m a collector of weapons who travels all across the world finding different antiques and relics, but alas, I’ve grown tired of simple mundane masterpieces. I’ve set my eyes, thus, on legendary weapons, and with Moonflare as my first, my collection will reach the next level.”

“Hark!” Moonflare interrupted, shining a furious silver. “I’m no ornament! I refuse to gather dust in your vault when there’s heroic deeds to be performed! You can simply commission a replica if you must! You have a fragment of me, as well, don’t you? You wouldn’t be able to come here otherwise.”

“Hah! Indeed, a fragment, albeit one too small to even house your consciousness. I’ve waited here for little over a week for you to show up. A weapon ought to obey, for without an owner, you are nothing. Simply sit tight in my basement as the crown jewel of my collection, O mighty Pilgrimbreaker, and cease your yapping?”

“...Don’t give me that bullshit.”

Blood oozing from his wounds, muscles tearing from the exertion and damage, Jan stood up, a new fire in his eyes. “You know, I was ok with losing to you. Moonflare’s a dick, but it’s a strong sword. If it was in the hands of a capable swordsman, no doubt it could mete out some ridiculous amounts of justice, enough to clean up the streets easily! I was ok with that Hero not being me! But you...”

“Jan...?” “Oh?”

Jan pointed at Clement. “You are no Hero! You’re just a selfish little cunt who wants to feel good by filling his basement with shiny things! I’ll never give Moonflare, the Pilgrimbreaker to you! Not such a storied blade with a bright future in front of it!”

“Hah!” Clement could only laugh. “And how, I wonder and ponder, do you expect to make good on that? You are no match for me. Will you seriously throw yourself to the grinder for these ideals? Heroes are a thing of the past, and should remain so! They have no place in the modern world!”

“Oh, fuck you. Moonflare! I finally understand Pilgrimbreaker.”

“What do you mean...?”

Jan simply took a deep breath and approached the sword stuck in the stone of the altar. “Pilgrimbreaker was a real Hero precisely because she didn’t give a damn about fame. You only held her back, but she still managed to save the world.”

“What!”

“You’re obsessed with fame. You just want the glory of other weapons and their Heroes, and I kinda do feel for you, but that’s not what Heroism is about. You know what my job was before I got fired? I was an insurance agent. I got fired because I kept giving people benefits. Insurance is supposed to be there for when tragedy strikes.”

“...” “Oh...?”

“When you have a car accident, when your parents die, when you get sick with a complex illness, insurance is supposed to cover for you. But my boss kept insisting that we find ways to screw our clients over, to bring up the small letter of a contract and fuck ‘em over! I ignored it, gave our clients our support, and that meant loses for the big wigs on top, loses they recouped by kicking me out. I thought I could make the world a better place, yet, it was another dumb pyramid scheme, the insurance game. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of all this shit!”

Jan grabbed the sword’s hilt. “Moonflare! Pilgrimbreaker was the same! Heroes are all about public image, but she kept fighting as silently and anonymously as she could! Fame didn’t cross her mind! She wanted to make a difference! I admire her, I didn’t know about her until this week, but I wholeheartedly admire her! You should be ashamed of disrespecting her style and respecting only her strength!”

“Jan, I...”

The silver glow of the blade turned gold, and strength seeped into Jan’s body. The golden glow of affinity, achieved only when user and weapon are one mind and one soul, shone brightly from both sword and man, Jan’s words striking chords Moonflare didn’t even know about.

“...Interesting. Still, you won’t be able to draw that sword. A little bit of determination isn’t enough to change the world, which is exactly the kind of power that Moonflare requires to be drawn.”

“Bite me, nerd. Moonflare! Your methods are old, but your power is real! What you need to become a Hero in the modern day is to be a baller!”

“A... A what?”

“Baller! One who can do, no, who does what needs to be done. One who can make a difference, and makes the difference! Not one with the potential, but one with the intent! If we are to change this cynic piece of shit world, you need more than tradition! You need innovation! And with this innovation, we’ll pull out your body!”

“Jan, that’s fine and all, but it’s not how it works! But...” The sword’s golden aura intensified. “Whatever! We’re doing this your way! Let’s do this!”

Jan gripped the true Moonflare with all of his might and pulled, pulled, and pulled. Even the massive power boost from synchronizing with Moonflare didn’t seem to be enough. “W-we can’t do it...! You don’t have the power to change the world just yet, it’s nothing one can achieve overnight! That’s why I didn’t want to bring you here!”

“I don’t have the power to change the world...”

The altar rumbled.

“I don’t have the wisdom, either... The tradition... The pedigree...”

Cracks began to form on the floor surrounding the altar.

“But I have the heart! And there’s no way I’m surrendering you to an egoist jackass like this! I don’t have the power to change the world, but I sure as hell have it to draw one stupid sword--!”

The floor quaked wildly.

“--And start with the small things, like the streets! I don’t have the power to change the world, but that won’t stop me from trying!”

With a sound as loud as an explosion, rocks flew everywhere and a wall of dust obscured Clement’s vision as Jan let out one final scream. When the dust finally settled some, Clement couldn’t believe his eyes. In front of him, Jan stood boldly, the True Moonflare resting atop his shoulder... Still embedded to the rock and the altar, which he simply carried as if it was nothing.

“Y-you what!? You just ripped the altar off the ground?!”

“I got no time for these dumbass traditions and tests of worthiness you losers like so much! This sword is rotting away down here when it could be saving lives and making the world a better place! If I have to take it with stone and altar and all, so be it! I like clubs better than swords, anyways!”

“This is unprecedented...! No one ever ripped the whole altar along with the sword! You technically didn’t draw me, but at the same time, you practically did! Is this the modernity you speak of?”

“Damn right! I’ll drag the entirety of the Sanctum if I need to. A little altar stuck to the sword is nothing! Now, Clement... Clench your teeth.”

“You dastard...! Hand over Moonflare!”

“Take it from me, bitch!”

Clement once again turned into a cyclone of steel, his infinite slashes approaching Jan faster than a ballistic satellite could catch, but Jan stood calm, took a deep breath in, and swung the altar-sword forward, like a baseball bat, with all of his might. The holy altar clashed with the furious steel, and the steel shattered into pieces. Behind the steel was the arm that held it, and the arm, too, was shattered into pieces, mere bone unable to withstand the impact of a ton of ivory and righteous Heroism. Behind the arm that held the steel was a body, and the body was, too, shattered into pieces, the single deft swing enough to incapacitate Clement easily, his mangled body rolling away from the sheer force of the impact, a few lucky bones in his body unbroken.

“W...Wha...? H-how...?”

“The thing is, Clement, you ain’t a baller. You are simply a selfish rich boy who looked at people’s hope and saw an ornament for his wall. You could never swing this blade meant to serve the people. You ain’t shit, Clement.”

                                                          ———  

“Hey, we’re on the newspaper again!”

“...Is it another collateral damage report?”

“...Y-yup...”

The sword sighed.

“We sure are stopping crime and accruing fame, just, not the kind of fame I wanted...”

“Hey! We’re saving people! What if a few cars or buildings get smashed in the process? I-It stimulates the economy!”

“Maybe if you were more careful when swinging me! I have a whole boulder-like altar stuck to my body!”

“Ok, ok, mom, chill. Let’s just go home now. We keep at it like this, and crime’s a-gone in a few weeks. No one wants to risk being clobbered by an altar, after all.”

The duo jumped from rooftop to rooftop, Jan lugging the massive altar casually atop of his shoulder still, less sword and more comically oversized hammer. 

“You just wanna keep gaming with that new keyboard, don’t you? I swear... You should be training to be able to draw me properly!”

“You can’t rush Heroism, Moonflare! As long as we keep being ballers, we’ll get there eventually!”

“...Heh, you’re right, Jan. Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

What is a Hero? A beacon of hope for the people? Or someone who acts for their safety in the shadows? Both are valid definitions, and many more kinds of Heroes exist, too. There’s some that are Heroes due to their lineage, while others are self-made, defying expectation and rising to greatness, all that truly matters is that you seek greatness for yourself and others, regardless of how you go about it. Some prefer the bombastic splendor of the spotlight, while others feel comfy in the shadows, but as long as you are excellent to one another and keep going and going, no doubt you’ll become a Hero in your own way, be that sticking to old tradition or carving your own path.

For Jan and Moonflare, the path to being a Hero is to be Ballers.

“...But really, stop causing collateral damage, your debt is only getting worse, you idiot.”

“Oh, shut the hell up.”

...Even if it’s expensive sometimes.

                                                                                                             End.

[wolfliving]

What’s in Stacey’s smart home for July 2021

*Not a lot, by her standards.  Only about 55 devices.

What's in my smart home in July 2021 It's been two years since I moved from my home in Austin to a rental home on Bainbridge Island outside of Seattle, and one year since I moved into my permanent home here. Which means I've had ample time to set up a new smart home infrastructure that will wow you with its awesomeness and functionality!

Except...I haven't actually set up much of a smart home. Part of this stems from having spent so much of my time handling renovations amid the pandemic, but a larger part is the realization that most of my devices aren't worth the time and trouble to implement. Before you think I'm about to dump on the smart home again, I need to clarify that I'm actually more in a holding period. More specifically, I think that by this time next year I will have a plethora of new gear on hand that works together more easily than it could now, thanks to the Matter protocol.

— This is my new Nanoleaf setup, which consists of 22 panels worth $800. It's my most recent smart home purchase. Image courtesy of S. Higginbotham. 

In the meantime, however, I have about 55 Wi-Fi devices on my network, roughly 30 of which are smart home-related. Some even entered my home thanks to the pandemic and the switch to everyone working from home, validating a trend that many analyst firms have highlighted. So let me show you what I've got so far.

Lighting – The most connected elements in my home are lights. I have a half-dozen Lutron switches in most of the main rooms, seven Philips Hue bulbs and bridges (plus a motion sensor), four Wyze bulbs, a Nanoleaf Essentials bulb, and two sets of Nanoleaf light panels. My husband has also set up three connected Elgato Key lights for his work-from-home camera setup that are tied into an Elgato Stream deck so he can hop on a video call and optimize his lights in one quick tap.

All of the lights are connected to Amazon and Google's smart speakers for voice control and some automation. But my favorite two setups are the storeroom lights, which use Philips Hue bulbs and a motion sensor to turn on whenever the door is opened and off whenever motion goes undetected for more than five minutes, and a button that we use to turn the lights on or off in my teen's bedroom to signal to her that we need her upstairs.

I also have two full-spectrum LEDs plugged into Wyze-connected outlets that are scheduled to turn on and off so I can light my plants during the winter.

Kitchen stuff – I swapped out my original June oven for the latest model. I still love it with all of my heart, although I wish I could connect it to Google so I could tell Google to preheat it (I can do this with Alexa, but my Echo is in my bedroom, so it's not really useful). I have an old Lenovo Google Smart Display in the kitchen running through photos; we also use it for timers, weather, watching YouTube, playing music, and settling disputes. My fridge has Wi-Fi, but I haven't connected it. I also have a connected sous vide cooker somewhere, but I haven't pulled that out since we arrived. My Delta faucet has an Alexa capability, but I haven't connected it because I don't have an outlet by my sink and because I don't have Alexa in my kitchen.

Living areas – The living room has three different versions of connected lights, so I have them all grouped to turn on as a unit if needed. I also have two Nest Audio speakers, which I loved until I discovered that they hate staying on my Wi-Fi network. Swapping routers didn't fix the problem, so I now have to sporadically unplug them after they drop off the network for the hundredth time. My den downstairs has a second Google display that doesn't see a lot of use, but is nice for dimming the lights for movie night and for blasting Spotify while we work out. There's a Roku box that's connected to what would be a smart TV if I connected it to the internet. And my den has a section of overhead lights connected to a Lutron switch.

I also have an Ecobee thermostat upstairs, but I need to shell out for a sensor to monitor the temp downstairs, which can vary by as much as eight degrees. I know this because I have two air quality monitoring sensors scattered around the house. One is the Awair Glow smart plug, and the other is the Airthings Wave Mini device. There's also a connected Roomba vacuum we named Terrance, who as I type this is cleaning dog hair from my bedroom floor.

The boring stuff – As you might be able to tell from my collection of air quality monitors, I've gotten pretty into boring devices in the last year. One, called Ting, monitors electricity fluctuations in my home so it can warn me if it detects a fault that might lead to an electrical fire or other problem. Another, from Aquanta, monitors the temperature and electricity use of my water heater; it also has a leak detection sensor that lets me know if anything is going wrong. Finally, I have a Phyn leak monitoring device plugged into my upstairs guest bathroom that tracks water usage and any leaks in my home.

Security – I have too many doors in this house, four of them being patio-style sliding doors for which I can't find connected locks. This makes me sad, as I really want to build a goodnight routine that locks all my doors and stops me from having to run all over the house checking them before I go to bed. I have three doors with traditional deadbolts and two of those have connected locks on them. My front door has the WiFi-enabled Schlage Encode, which is super handy, although I haven't opened the app since my first install. The back door has a Z-wave lock from Kwikset that only gets used because it has a keypad. I dumped all of my Z-wave hubs earlier this year after throwing in the towel on Wink.

I also have a Ring mailbox sensor that is more of an annoyance than it is useful, a Eufy connected doorbell that we purchased because it was the best option that didn't require a subscription, and a Chamberlain MyQ garage door opener that I love because we tend to leave the garage door open in this house more often than we did back in Austin. I also have a door in the garage that leads to the outside (so I suppose that's eight doors!) that I'd like to get a smart lock on, but I'm waiting for some Matter-certified locks to hit the market next year.

I have a Wyze cam and two Arlo cameras that I put out when we leave town or I am trying to monitor something weird in the yard, but those are only intermittently on my network.

Outside – I have a Lutron outdoor plug that controls some Christmas lights, and I'm waiting eagerly for the Orbit B-hyve faucet controller to arrive so I can hook it up and create a good watering schedule for my garden. I also need to get a septic monitoring device as part of my boring IoT gear, but have been dragging my feet on that.

Bedrooms – Speaking of sleeping, our bedrooms have connected light bulbs or switches depending on whether there are overhead lights or not. My bedroom and my daughter's bedroom each have Amazon Echo devices, with mine being the latest fourth-generation Echo and my daughter using the original 2014 Pringles that I purchased as part of the original Echo beta. I can't believe it still works! My daughter also has a smart outlet from Wyze that controls her fairy lights using voice.

If I look at all the smart gear in my home, it mostly falls into the convenience or entertainment categories, and few things — other than the June oven or the boring elements monitoring my home — are truly smart. This list doesn't include my various wearables or Bluetooth-enabled sensors, exercise gear, or trinkets that are also scattered around the home. For 90% of these devices, once they are set up, I never use the apps, preferring to use automation, voice, or physical buttons to control them.

I no longer spend an hour or so each week futzing with smart hubs and different radio protocols, which is nice, but I also admit that the smart home I have is pretty far off from the smart home of my dreams. I'll check back in a year or two post-Matter and let you know where I'm at then.

[daniloqp]

Amazon Prime Day 2021: 48 Best Kitchen, Home, Kids Deals (Day 2)

Amazon Prime Day 2021: 48 Best Kitchen, Home, Kids Deals (Day 2)

https://theministerofcapitalism.com/blog/amazon-prime-day-2021-48-best-kitchen-home-kids-deals-day-2/

This year finds us in a much different place than last. Instead of hunkering down for a chilly, lonely winter, we’re flinging aside our face masks and getting ready to return to the outside world. However, if you’re having friends over for the first time in more than a year, you might still need help vacuuming the living room carpet. Or maybe you’re styling your hair to appear in public for the first time in a loooong time and have forgotten how to do it! If that’s the case, we can help! We perused all of Amazon’s Prime Day deals for the second day to find the best ones for you, your kids, and your dusty corners and kitchen counters.

Note: We regularly update articles and strike through items that sell out or rise in price as of publishing, and mark discounts based on recent product pricing or average price, not MSRP. Be sure to check discounts for yourself. Our picks come from research and our extensive experience reviewing products. You’ll need an Amazon Prime subscription to get most of these deals.

Updated Tuesday: We’ve checked links and updated pricing throughout. We’ve also added the Primula Burke coffee maker, Nest Audio, SimpliSafe’s security system, Nooie’s smart bulb and security camera, and Nanoleaf’s ambient lights.

WIRED’s Prime Day Stories

If you buy something using links in our stories, we may earn a commission. This helps support our journalism. Learn more.

Smart Home Deals

Eero Pro Mesh Router

Photograph: Eero

Since Amazon bought Eero, it has dropped the price on it during deals holidays, along with Kindles and other Amazon devices. However, that means this is still a good time to pick up a Wi-Fi extender if you recently moved to a bigger property, and Amazon promises the devices won’t spy on you. If you need more coverage, you can buy three Eero Pro routers for $349 (150 off).

This is our favorite air purifier for small rooms, rated up to 361 square feet. It’s attractive, slim, and won’t take up much space in the corner of a room. It’ll automatically kick on when it detects pollutants in the air, though it’s not the quietest.  

Smart bulbs can add up in price, so even if this deal is small, it may be worthwhile if you need to swap out multiple bulbs. This is our favorite smart bulb. You get multiple hues to switch to, the ability to schedule the lights to turn on or off, and you can control it via Google Assistant or Alexa. Another one of our favorites, the Yeelight, is also on sale for $24 ($6 off).

If you want to spruce up the lighting in your home, we like these panels from Nanoleaf. You stick them to your wall and connect them together in any particular shape or design you want (you can buy expansion packs to add more panels). The companion app has tons of colors and effects to choose from. The triangle kit is also on sale.

If the floors of your house get serious wear and tear from multiple pets or kids, this all-in-one vacuum and steam cleaner is an affordable way to clean carpet, rug, and hardwood quickly and easily. I (Adrienne) own the larger version of this steam-vac and use it when my preschoolers have gotten the carpet mysteriously funky.

Photograph: Amazon

We’ve loved the basic Kindle for years, and now that it comes with a backlight, it’s the model we recommend in our Best Kindles guide. This is the best price we’ve seen in 2021. Plus, it comes with three months of Kindle Unlimited, which lets you read a huge number of ebooks for free. It’s $10 a month after the trial.

If you can spend a little more, and you’re a bathtub or beach reader, the Kindle Paperwhite is worth the extra cash. It features an IPX8 rating, which means you can chuck it in 2 meters of water (not that you should try that). Otherwise, it’s very similar to the standard Kindle. Read the differences here. This price is for the 8-gigabyte option; if you listen to a lot of audiobooks (which take up more space), you might want to spring for the 32-gig model for $105.

Roborock S6 MaxV

Photograph: Roborock

This is the lowest price ever for this robot vacuum. It’s in our Best Robot Vacuums guide, and you can read more about it in our review. If you have a pet, it’s great. It has powerful suction and has cameras that can identify and avoid obstacles (even pet poop). Our top pick, the Roborock S4 Max, is also on sale for $310 ($120 off).

I (Adrienne) test a new robot vacuum every month, and I am continually shocked at how iRobot Roombas remain among the best-performing models for the money. I’ve tested several Roombas in the 690 series, and this is the best price you’ll find for one outside of Black Friday or other holiday sales.

This is the lowest we’ve seen this robot vac drop in several months. It’s much more expensive than the Roomba above, but it comes with the added luxury of emptying itself for up to 60 days before you have to think about it.

We reviewed SimpliSafe’s security system and really like it. It’s simple to set up, and subscribing gets you 24/7 professional monitoring, as well as dispatches to police, fire, and medical teams in case of emergencies ($15 per month). Included in this kit is the base station, which has a built-in siren, a keypad to disarm the system, an entry sensor, a motion sensor, and a keyfob to disarm or arm it. The keyfob also works as a secret panic button. 

The August smart locks fluctuate in price a lot and drop to this price during big sales, but this is the lowest price that we usually see. These Yves Béhar-designed locks install in minutes, use your deadbolt, and work with Siri and HomeKit.

Ecobee Smart Thermostat

Photograph: Ecobee

The full discount appears at checkout. Ecobee’s smart thermostat is still my favorite smart thermostat. Extra sensors pick up the temperature in different parts of your house and adjust your HVAC system accordingly so that you never lunge out of bed, sweating, in the middle of the night or find your fingers turning to icicles in your office. 

The price on the Ecobee camera is about $10 less than previously seen deals on the net, though this camera has been on sale for $80 a few times this year. This is a useful camera to choose if you like Ecobee’s smart thermostat or whole-home system.

This is one of our favorite security cameras. It’s attractive, offers 1,080p video quality, and has pretty great motion detection. Even better, there’s two-factor authentication for the app for extra security. You can supply your own MicroSD card to store clips, or subscribe to a cloud storage plan. It can’t swivel a complete 360 degrees and lacks pet detection.

Google’s new Nest Audio (8/10, WIRED Recommends) has officially replaced the original Google Home from 2016. The design looks completely different, like a soft pillow, but you get much-improved audio, and you can pair two for stereo sound. 

A smart display one-ups a smart speaker by offering visual information instead of just audio. Google’s latest version of its 7-inch Nest Hub (7/10, WIRED Recommends) does this really well and is perfect for bedrooms because it doesn’t have a camera. It can even track your sleep, though this feature will require a subscription next year. 

Many people, including us, find Wi-Fi-enabled security cameras to be immensely useful. On the other hand, it’s hard to find a brand that we trust that hasn’t had a security breach or doesn’t share info with law enforcement. In our testing, we’ve found Arlo cameras to be reliable and the picture crisp. An outdoor floodlight adds an extra layer of a deterrent to would-be yard invaders.

Even with the advent of Apple’s AirTag, Tile is still one of our favorite trackers to find all your stuff. This two-pack comes with both a Pro and a Slim tile. The Pro attaches to your keys, and the Slim slides in your wallet, making it a perfect one-two combo for your three-point check before you walk out the door.

Kitchen Deals

Photograph: Amazon

If you’re trying to reduce your plastic waste, we’ve recommended these reusable bags for years. I particularly like that they don’t need an extra attachment to seal the bag, so you can throw them in the dishwasher and put them away without looking for another part. 

If you’re a fan of sparkling water, you can also reduce the number of single-use bottles that you use with this slim countertop carbonator. Just add your own flavorings and push the button on top to add the appropriate amount of fizz.

Photograph: Primula

This is the best cold brew coffee maker for most people. It’s dirt cheap, especially with this deal, and super simple to operate if you don’t mind making your coffee 24 hours before you drink it. We’ve rounded up deals on more coffee gear here.

A gleaming array of All-Clad pans is a worthy wedding registry addition. But for most of us, solid nonstick cookware can be had for a much cheaper price. I (Adrienne) own several pots and pans from this set, and they’re sturdy, don’t stick, and heat evenly. What more can you ask of a pan?

Lodge Enameled Dutch Oven

Photograph: Amazon

A Le Creuset is also a worthy purchase, but my cast-iron Lodge pans have lasted just as long and required equally little maintenance. Six quarts is big enough to make stew for a family dinner, and it comes in a wide range of colors.

This is the lowest price ever for this wine preservation system. We’ve written about Coravin before and the gadgets have a bit of a cult following. It essentially lets you pour wine out of a bottle without removing the cork, preventing it from oxidizing and thereby making the bottle last longer.

Keurigs aren’t the most sophisticated coffee makers that we’ve tried, but they’re extremely convenient, compact, and reliable. You can also use refillable pods if the waste bothers you. A similar but more stylish version is also on sale for $60 ($40 off), but it has a smaller water tank capacity.  

Zojirushi’s rice cookers have a microcomputer (or “micom,” to use the Japanese portmanteau) that makes minute adjustments to avoid burned spots and soggy bits, whether you’re making white rice, brown rice, oatmeal, or steaming vegetables. This is probably the deal that I (Adrienne) will end up buying.

This is perennially one of our favorite travel mugs. It’s attractive, durable, compact, comes in a variety of colors, and keeps coffee hot for hours. (I have to let my coffee cool a little before sealing it.)

Is it even Prime Day without an Instant Pot deal? Lots of Instant gadgetry is on sale, including its first-ever air purifier, but this is the Instant Pot that I (Adrienne) use almost every week, years after purchase. You can also turn it into an air fryer with a lid attachment.

Kids and Parenting Deals

Nixplay Digital Picture Frame

Photograph: Nixplay

If you have long-distance, tech-phobic family, a digital picture frame is the best way to feel connected—much less complicated than telling your grandmother how to operate a tablet. Our favorite frame, the Aura Carver, is also on sale for $169 ($30 off), but it’s been that price on and off for a while. We have several more picks in our roundup of the Best Digital Picture Frames.

This is also a very exciting deal, as this enormous Magna-Tiles set has never been this cheap. I (Adrienne) never quite understood the appeal of Magna-Tiles until I had preschoolers and saw them making everything from multilevel castles to ice cream cones and drum sets.

The price is $78 until checkout, which is a good discount, but if you click the 5-percent-off coupon button, it drops a bit further. Even our most cynical Gear Team parents love the Osmo sets for taking activities off the screen and into the physical world. There are a bunch of Osmo sets on sale, but this is a good one to try if you haven’t used them yet. (You’ll also need an iPad that runs a minimum of iOS 10.)

If your kids are starting to venture into the wild, this is a great price for a starter explorer kit. It comes with binoculars, a magnifying glass, and a butterfly net for catching any creepy-crawlies around your house. The $2 discount here is pretty sad, but the kit should still make kids very happy.

We generally prefer RF baby monitors over Wi-Fi-enabled ones, but there’s no denying that being able to check in on your kid from anywhere, and being able to pan and tilt the camera, is immensely useful. This is a much cheaper Wi-Fi-enabled alternative to our top pan-and-tilt pick, the Eufy Spaceview.

This K’Nex set comes with battery-powered motors suitable for putting together Ferris wheels, cars, and maybe even a drone if you or your child has the nerve. It comes in a convenient suitcase box and is probably best suited for older kids.

Amazon Echo Dot Kid Edition

Photograph: Amazon

The kid version of the Echo Dot includes a year of Amazon Kids+, which remains my favorite content platform for younger kids. It also sounds great and has a two-year, worry-free guarantee, in addition to a variety of cute spherical faces. I use one to set alarms for my kids in the morning, to check the weather as we’re getting dressed, and to tell stories during quiet time.

Cubcoats makes some of our favorite face masks for kids. These are big on smaller kids, but my daughter is now 6 and they fit reasonably well.

FridaBaby has made waves for making cute, cheeky baby and postpartum recovery kits that are indispensable for new parents. This is the lowest price we’ve seen on this postpartum kit for new moms, which includes everything you need for the first critical few weeks after birth.

The NoseFrida is part of the Baby Basics Kit, and it works

Photograph: Fridababy

Because my children are now preschoolers, I (Adrienne) already own everything in this kit. However, I may order it again for replacements. The Snotsucker is a necessary tool for de-snotting toddlers with a cold, and you can never have too many tiny nail clippers.

My family has gone through so much Play-Doh during the Covid-19 pandemic. This set comes with 12 colors and 47 (47!) types of modeling tools.

Parenting includes dogs, right? BarkBox’s monthly subscription box is half-off until June 22, and it comes with two dog toys, two bags of dog treats, and a chew (you can choose a box based on your dog’s size). Just remember that it will auto-renew at $35 per month, so set a reminder to cancel it if you don’t want to continue subscribing.  

Amazon is having a pretty big Lego sale for Prime Day. This intricate set with over 1000 pieces will be a great display piece when it’s done.

A lot of Legos are on sale, so it was hard to pick just one. We like the A-Wing because, as we all know, it’s extremely fast and maneuverable though difficult to pilot and too small to fit an astromech droid behind the cockpit. (We watch a little too much Star Wars here.) This set is $5 cheaper than the lowest price it’s ever been and will appeal to kids and adults alike.

These sets usually go on sale only once or twice a year. My (Adrienne’s) children own a smaller version. If I never hear “Marble ruuuuun!” ever again, I would be happy, but they would be extremely sad. It’s endlessly entertaining and teaches them about gravity, in that marbles go down but also run all over the floor and under my feet.

Bathroom and Personal Care Deals

Withings Body Cardio

Photograph: Withings

The price on this smart scale drops frequently but never quite this low. Of the smart scales that we’ve tried, this one can be a bit finicky since it doesn’t have exposed electrodes. But we like that you can recharge it via Mini USB, and Withings’ app and its suite of health care tools are very simple.

Click the coupon on the page to get some of this discount; the rest is taken out at checkout. This is our favorite electric toothbrush. It’s more affordable than any other smart brush we’ve tried when it’s not on sale, and this is the lowest we’ve seen it. It’s slim and light, with accurate tracking via an app that shows you exactly where you’re missing. Better yet, you don’t have to have the app open every single time you use it. You can still collect points (which translates to a few dollars off replacement brush heads) by connecting the brush to your phone every 10 days.

I (Adrienne) wouldn’t say that I liked the Halo, and you may not either, but it is also the only fitness tracker I’ve ever used that purports to track emotions. As I discovered, it can be a useful tool if you’ve found yourself squabbling with your partner after a stressful year.

The price of 23andMe’s genetic test kits drops numerous times each year, but at 50 percent off, we still think this is a great deal. Just do your best to make sure you have as few skeletons in the closet as possible before you send in your test.

The prices on Fitbit’s more affordable trackers also drop pretty regularly, but not predictably. If you’ve been looking for an affordable fitness tracker to jump-start a new exercise habit, I (Adrienne) like the Inspire’s small size a lot, and Fitbit still has the best user interface for beginners. The Sense is on sale as well.

Photograph: Hot Tools

Most people have heard of the cult-favorite Revlon One-Step for drying and styling your hair, but Hot Tools makes a version with a detachable top that can work with a variety of attachments. I like the round brush here, but you can also buy the volumizer or paddle brush separately.

This is a great little massager that adds a heating element to the handle—being able to soothe sore muscles with both heat and pressure is a huge upgrade for a relatively cheap percussive device. Plus it’s compact and light, so you can bring it with you wherever you need, like the gym or for a midday massage during work.

$150 seems like a lot for a toothbrush, until you get used to using one and your teeth feel vaguely grotty without it. This brush is attractive and effective, even if the app and its smart features leave something to be desired. This is also the lowest price we’ve seen on the DiamondClean for years.

If you’d like to check more deals yourself, here are some links to sales going on this week.

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[creativitytoexplore]

The Canister By James Rumpel https://ift.tt/31YrahY Desperate scientists risk the Earth to send a message of warning back through time; by James Rumpel.

2063: The canister sat in the middle of the elaborate mechanism. Its metallic surface sparkled as it reflected the device's myriad of lights which constantly flickered on and off. Two individuals, each dressed in a lab coat, stood silently staring at a control panel. Eventually, one of the men broke the silence. "You are sure there is no one else out there?" "I am," replied his cohort. "Since the last round of mega-storms, every known base and individual contact has been silent. It has been two weeks. If there was anyone out there, they would have answered our transmissions." "Are we absolutely certain we want to do this?" asked the first. "Creating a wormhole on the planet's surface will destroy it. It will rip the Earth to pieces." "The Earth is already dead. If there's any chance of us getting a warning back far enough to stop this, we have to take it." Both men heard a thunderous roar. A klaxon began to blare, sounding a warning. "That's another super-sized tornado. We can't wait any longer." "But what will happen at the other end of the wormhole? We have no idea where or when the other end will open. It could cause the same damage there that it will here. Could we be destroying history?" "Our ancestors have already lived their lives, and look where that got us. I'm initiating the program. Maybe someone will get the message and we can avoid all of this." He entered a code into a keypad adjacent to the monstrous machine. He shrugged his shoulders and hit ENTER. "Here goes nothing."

1407: Ottucke crouched to examine the dew-covered grass. The Wampanoag tribe's most experienced hunter easily located two small drops of blood. The deer, an arrow stuck in its left flank, had passed this way. It would have made its way into the deep woods in search of a hiding place. Many of his tribe were fishermen. They harvested the gifts of the great water. Ottucke preferred the woods. He enjoyed every aspect of a hunt. Ottucke slowly rose to his feet and silently walked towards the edge of the forest. His eyes searched the ground for any other indicators of his prey's trail. As he moved gracefully through the clearing, he noticed a strange flash of color in the deep grass and flowers to his left. He carefully approached the area from which the glimmer had appeared. Resisting the urge to notch an arrow, he parted the grass with his hand. What he found was something that he could not begin to understand. An object, the size of a small wolf, lay amongst the yellow goldenrods. It was the shape of a tree trunk, round at both ends. He found the courage to reach out and feel the mysterious item; it was cool to his touch. Ottucke could not identify the material of which it was made. It was hard as stone but smooth like the pebbles found by the shore of the great water. He noticed strange, unfamiliar, symbols on the surface of the object. Ottucke was happy with the simple life he lived. He considered the many questions he would be asked if he returned to the tribe carrying this strange thing. Others would be curious and want to know more about its origin. He did not need or want to know. Instead, he left his discovery right where he found it. He had a deer to track. He quickly relocated the trail and continued his pursuit. The canister remained mostly hidden in the weeds and flowers. There it stayed for a long long time.

1695: George Masters and his son, John, had made great progress in clearing the underbrush and stumps from what was soon to be their new field. This particular piece of land was a significant distance from the settlement and their home, but was not as overgrown with large trees as most of the woods. George steered the oxen and plow along the left side of the cleared area. John swung his ax downward into a large stump. The dark soil, along with many roots and stones, folded away from the blade of the plow in waves of brown and green. As George neared completion of the third furrow an unusual clanging sound drew his attention. On top of the upturned soil was a cylindrical shaped object. Its silver hue gave the appearance of a valuable item. George stopped the oxen and moved to examine his discovery. He bent down to pick up the item but stopped, frozen by fear. There, etched into the side of the object was a message. "John, come see this," he shouted. George's teenage son immediately obeyed. He rushed to the side of his father. "What is it, Father?" "Look at what has been turned up by the plow. Do you have any idea what it is or how it got there?" "It looks like a small barrel, but made of iron or some other metal. Maybe someone from the town was storing something in it." The young man was just as confused by the appearance of the object as his father. "But, look at the writing on its side." John bent down to inspect the canister. He read the words engraved on the silver surface.

PLEASE GIVE THIS CANISTER TO THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA BETWEEN 1960 AND 2020. THE EARLIER THE BETTER. IT IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT THAT YOU DO SO. THE FATE OF THE EARTH IS AT STAKE.

The message was followed by a list of names.

JOHN KENNEDY, LYNDON JOHNSON, RICHARD NIXON, GERALD FORD, JIMMY CARTER, RONALD REAGAN, GEORGE H.W. BUSH, BILL CLINTON, GEORGE W. BUSH, BARACK OBAMA, DONALD TRUMP.

"Some of those words do not mean anything to me," proclaimed John. "And I do not recognize any of the men listed." "It is some form of witchcraft," decided George. "What should we do with it, Father?" "We cannot take it to the village. We would be accused of sorcery. Go back to the cabin and get a quilt. Do not tell anyone why you need it. Do not tell anyone about what we have found. We will wrap the quilt around it and add rocks for weight. We will then throw this aberration into the river." "Yes, Father," The younger man took off running towards the family home. George knelt and began to pray.

1891: Finally, one of the nets seemed to be offering a tiny bit more resistance. The morning had not been productive for Aaron Keefer. His first three attempts at catching fish off the New England shore had only produced a few undersized cod. This cast, however, seemed to promise more success. Sure enough, as Aaron pulled the net into his fishing boat, he spied a fairly large number of the brown and white colored fish. The fisherman dumped the contents of the net into the hold and was surprised to hear a distinct metallic clunking sound. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the glint of silver amongst the flapping fish. He pushed the fish aside and scooped a cylindrical canister from the hold. The object was about two feet long and less than a foot across. It was much lighter than he expected it to be. Aaron placed the strange item on the deck. It was tightly sealed. Whatever its contents were, they appeared to have been protected from the ocean for however long they had been hidden in the water. He was about to begin to attempt to open the container when he noticed some writing on the side. After pushing some mud and scum aside, Aaron read the message. "Now, that is very strange," Aaron announced to no one. He had a habit of talking to himself: an understandable consequence of many long hours alone on the boat. "I should take this home and see if it is worth anything." For about a week, the mysterious canister was worth a couple of drinks and a few hours of conversation. No one in the small fishing village knew anything about it or cared much beyond initial curiosity. The trip to Washington DC would have been too time consuming and expensive. Eventually, Aaron went on with his life, forgetting about the strange object. The canister found its way into a crate in a crowded corner of the basement of Aaron's cottage.

1954: Thomas Keefer dropped another load of junk onto the tiny lawn of his great-grandfather's home. How had the old man collected so much garbage? It was bad enough that Thomas had been forced to attend the amazingly boring funeral and wake of his great-grandfather, but the fact that he had been coerced into helping clean out the musty old house was torturous to the nine-year-old boy. He had never been that close to Grandpa Aaron. In fact, Thomas had always been a bit spooked by the old man. He always smelled weird. "Can I be done now, Dad?" asked Thomas. He hoped there was just enough whininess to his tone that his father might feel sorry for him. "Go get one more crate, then you can take a break," responded his father as he sorted through the previous load of junk. Nearly everything that had been brought up from the basement of the dilapidated old cottage had gone directly into the waiting dumpster. Thomas sighed heavily and slowly began descending the stairs into the hell that was the old man's basement. He glanced around, looking for the lightest remaining box. "What's that?" he asked himself as he noticed a shiny silver canister tucked behind a pile of rotted and decayed fishing nets. The boy pushed the useless equipment to the side and grabbed the container. Using the dim light that seeped through the warped glass of the lone window located high on the wall, Thomas examined his discovery. He was amazed at how light the large cylinder was. He was even more interested in the strange message carved into it. "This could be really important," he thought. "I better keep this and give it to the president in 1960. I'll be a hero." Thomas grabbed a small box of jars and proceeded to take them to his father. After being granted a short rest period, the boy quickly snuck back into the basement and grabbed his discovery. He raced back to his own home which was only a few blocks distant and found a hiding place for the canister in the storage room above the garage. Thomas had no desire to share his find with anyone else. He alone was going to deliver the cylinder to the president when the time came.

1963: Thomas Keefer had the canister concealed inside of a large burlap sack as he approached the White House security guard. He had completely forgotten about the mysterious object until he rediscovered it while packing for college earlier that fall. When he had found it and once again read the first name of the list engraved on its side, he knew he had to deliver it to Washington. He still wanted to be the sole person credited with the discovery. He had been waiting for the first opportunity to take a road trip and make the delivery. With fall break and Thanksgiving coming the following week, he had found a way to get out of Friday classes and made the trek from Boston that morning. The guard looked confused as he examined the canister Thomas showed him. "I'm not sure what I am supposed to do with something like this," said the guard when he finally spoke. "Let me go get someone who might know how to handle this. You just stay here." A second guard remained with Thomas as the first walked away. The canister remained in Thomas' bag. It was nearly an hour later when Thomas finally took a seat across a desk from a chief security officer. "You know," said the middle-aged, balding man. "We get all sorts of things delivered here, most of it we just toss or put into storage somewhere. What you brought, however, is very strange. It is so odd that we're pretty curious about it. We're going to have some experts from the Smithsonian have a look at it. If they think it's worth it and safe, they'll give it to the president." He clipped a tag onto the cylinder. "Where did you say you got it? "I found it in my great-grandfather's house about nine years ago. I noticed..." The phone rang, interrupting Thomas' answer. "Just one minute," the security officer raised his hand toward Thomas as he answered the phone. "What?" The officer uttered only a single word but the horror and shock it portrayed were unmistakable. The man was already rising from his chair as he hung up the telephone. "I'm sorry, you're going to have to leave. We have a much bigger emergency to deal with. The President has just been shot." The guard took the canister from Thomas, haphazardly tossed it into a bin with some other packages and immediately escorted Thomas out the door. Thomas, shocked by the announcement and his hasty removal, did not put up any resistance. He had done his duty. He had delivered the canister. Maybe when it was opened, if it contained anything important, he would be contacted.

2048: President Susan Cheung was sitting in the main office of the temporary capital in Springfield, Illinois when her chief assistant entered the room with a stack of papers and an odd-looking canister of some sort. "Do you have the death tolls from the Colorado flooding?" asked the President without any pleasantries. This was not the time and the President was not in the mood for pleasantries. "Yes, Madam, the destruction is far worse than we thought." The aid handed over a packet of papers. "I've also got estimates on the food shortage in the upper Midwest and the latest on the three hurricanes approaching Florida." "There aren't still people living down there, are there?" "A few stragglers, but most were permanently evacuated last year." The President took a deep breath. She noticed the silver canister that the assistant had set down near the desk. "What is that thing?" "The people at the science institute asked me to show it to you. It was found by one of the divers exploring the remnants of DC after the most recent tidal wave. As near as we can figure it was found in the 1960s and was supposed to be investigated by the Smithsonian but it appears to have never gotten there for some reason. It was found in an old warehouse..." "You still haven't told me what it is," interrupted the President, a slight hint of frustration made its way into her voice. "Sorry, Madam President. Here's the interesting thing, they think it was sent from the future. It contained all sorts of warnings about the greenhouse effect and climate change. It even had blueprints and computer files on how to produce clean renewable energy. You know, stuff that was discovered in the late 2030s." "Well, a lot of good that does us," scoffed the President. "If it was too late to reverse the damage fifteen years ago, it is clearly too late to help us now." "The scientists are guessing that they used a wormhole to send it back in time, hoping to get the message to the past early enough to prevent the global damage. If someone would have opened the canister in the 60s maybe everything could have been prevented." The President paused, biting her pinky fingertip. "Well, it doesn't do us much good now. Send it off to one of the research bases. Maybe they can find something useful, something that might help delay the inevitable." The aide nodded his head. "Yes, Madam." The aide quickly left the office. President Cheung glanced out the window. A black wall of clouds approached from the west. Multiple bolts of lightning flashed in the sky and thunder shook the building.