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wiypt-writes · 4 years

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Riding On

Ch24: The Wheel Fell Off

Summary: There are some perks to having your own, personal mechanic…and Fliss isn’t the only one who notices.

Warnings: Bad language.

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: So I gotta give a shout out to @sweater-daddiesdumbdork as she came up with a few gems of dialogue for this!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 23

And the wonder of it all is that you don’t realise how much I love you.

July 2020

Frank looked around at the team assembled in his office for the daily Stand-Up and nodded. “Okay, so I’ve nothing else to add, anyone got any other business before I call it?”

“Are we far behind on the repair time KPI for the Dolphin Tour fleet?” Mick, the finance manager looked at Frank and he shook his head.

“No, a day or so. Tim says he’ll have made the time back by Friday so we’re good.” Frank replied. “I’m not concerned. It shouldn’t have an impact on the incentivisation payments”

Mick nodded and Frank waited for a second. When no one else spoke, he dismissed the team and turned to his computer, leaning over to check the rest of the meetings and tasks for the day. He was midway through a very complicated spreadsheet detailing incoming repairs and timescales when his phone rang.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He greeted Fliss, leaning back in his chair a little. “Everything okay?”

��Yes, well, no. I was in the menage harrowing the surface and the wheel fell off the Quad Bike.”

“What do you mean the wheel fell off?” Frank pulled a face, scratching at his temple.

“Well, you know how it had four wheels? Now it has three,” came the sarcastic response.

“Dickhead.” Frank shot back and Fliss’ laughter hit his ears.

“Well, what did you think I meant?”

“You know what, I’m sorry I asked.” He rolled his eyes. “I suppose that means you want me to come fix it?”

“Yeah but it can wait until later if you’re busy, we managed to get it out of the way. Dad’s here snagging the extension to the tack room so he had a look and he says the bolt has sheared off so he can’t put it back on without a spare and I don’t know if you have any lying about in your Man Cave.”

“I will do from when we changed the wheels last year.” Frank clicked into his calendar to double check his schedule and smiled. “I’ve got no meetings this afternoon so I’ll come home at lunch. I can do the stock inventory at home.”

“My hero.”

“You know, if you carry on being sarcastic you can shove it up your ass.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic!” Fliss laughed. “You know I love the fact that you can fix all this shit for me.”

“No you love the fact I get filthy fixing all that shit for you.”

“Well yeah, that’s one upside to you being good with your hands.”

“One?” Frank grinned, leaning back in his chair. “So there’s more?”

“You know it Sailor. I gotta go babe, my next client is here but I’ll see you soon, and if you can’t don’t worry it’ll wait.”

“I’ll sort it. Love you, sweetheart.”

“You too.”

True to his word, Frank left the office at midday giving his team the instruction to call his cell if needed. Once home, he parked up, headed inside to change out of his office attire and pulled on a pair of worn, light jeans and a t-shirt. Once done, he grabbed his shades, went into his work shop and picked up his tool box along with a couple of spare bolts and wandered over to the yard. As he walked, he stopped for a moment to take in the building work and smiled. The extension to the office and tack room area was complete, giving Fliss a huge extra space to organise all her tack and equipment. The paint and plastering had been completed a few days before and the fittings had all been finalised yesterday which was what Bill was in there snagging, making sure it was all as they’d specified. The storage units and racks were all on order and due to arrive at some point tomorrow so Frank knew he’d most likely be busy fitting them in the evening, not that he minded. He loved being able to be involved and help out.

The diggers were in place, hollowing out the additional riding paddock at the bottom of the yard, this one slightly smaller than the current one, but would give more than enough additional space for people to ride, and the hedge along the bottom field had been cleared to lead out to the additional three acres of grassy space they had acquired, with a new gravel path to be laid as a walkway once the post and rail fencing was done. They’d also asked for trenches to be dug for water pipes to avoid the stable hands having to lug buckets and tanks up to the horses.

All in all, it was coming along really well and on schedule, the whole thing set to be completed by the beginning of August, well in time for their wedding, which was now just ten weeks away.

Frank made his way onto the main yard, Fliss waving at him from where she was teaching in the paddock and he waved back, wandering into the newly-constructed building as Bill was busy pointing to something on the wall.

“Yeah, that needs patching up.” He nodded as the guy besides him produced a packet of small stickers in the shape of yellow dots. He placed one on the area Bill was clearly not satisfied with and Frank looked around, noticing a number of them in various places in the room. Bill glanced over at him and smiled. “Hey, son.”

“How picky ya being, Bill?” Frank smirked and Bill let out a snort.

“Nah, the actual building and electrical fittings are all sound.” He gave a nod. “This is just cosmetic. The door frame is chipped, this plaster here is rough and there’s some patches where it’s too thin but other than that it’s good.”

“I’m glad you’re doing this as I wouldn’t have noticed any of that.” Frank mused, leaning in a little closer to examine what it was that Bill had spotted, and the older man shook his head.

“Well, I have over thirty years in the trade and my eyes are still pretty sharp.” Bill chuckled. “Anyway, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me she dragged you out of work to fix that Quad!”

“It’s no problem. Got nothing on this afternoon so I can work from home.”

“She’s got you wrapped round her little finger.” Bill shook his head and Frank arched an eyebrow.

“I could say the same for you.” He accused. “And with Mary too for that matter. And Verity. You’re a soft ass for your girls, Bill and you know it.”

Bill shrugged. “Guilty as charged. Some would argue I’m a soft ass for my boys too, all of you.”

Frank smiled back, his neck feeling a little warm as the sentiment of Bill’s words sunk in and he took a deep breath and jerked his head towards the door. “I best go do what I came to do before her majesty accuses me of slacking.”

Bill chuckled. “It’s in the barn,” he informed, waving him away and Frank emerged out into the hot, midday July sun and strode round to the rear of the yard. The Quad bike and offending wheel were indeed stored in the barn, which was slightly cooler than the outside and Frank dropped his tool bag to the floor before he knelt down to take a look. Bill had been right, the bolt had snapped but it was an easy fix.

Or so he thought.

Ten minutes later, after a lot of cursing, heaving and straining he’d finally managed to work the broken bolt loose. Standing up, he cracked his neck and back, tossing the broken item into his bag with a contemptuous glare as he wiped his sweaty forehead and reached for the wheel. Thankfully, that was easy and took him two minutes to fit, and once he was happy it was sorted he pushed the quadbike out to make sure it was on properly.

“Did you fix it?” A small voice asked him and Frank glanced up to see a little girl, who can’t have been much older than four, stood looking at him as she grinned, her dark pigtails poking out from underneath a cap.

“Sure did.” He smiled.

“It was funny when it fell off.” She giggled. “Fliss screamed and then she swore.”

Frank snorted. “Yeah, she has a potty mouth.”

“Alicia!” A woman spoke and Frank turned to glance up at a slim, dark haired lady, dressed in a pair of bright, beige jodhpurs and a tight, baby-blue polo shirt, both items of clothing looking like they’d never come into contact with a horse at all. “Don’t run off!”

“I just wanted to see if the wheel was back on.” The little girl protested and the woman rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” She smiled, flashing off a set of perfect white teeth from behind a set of glossed lips. “She’s so nosey.”

“Kids for ya.” Frank smiled, shaking his head.

“Don’t I know it?” She laughed, a perfectly manicured hand flying to her chest as Frank straightened up, wiping his hands on the back of his loose fitting, slightly grubby jeans. At that point, Joanne came round the back of the barn and she smiled.

“You ready for your lesson, Leesh?” She looked at the little girl who gave a cheer. “Come on then, Fliss is waiting.”

“This is the best Phys-Ed ever!” The little girl grinned and shot off after Joanne.

“Phys Ed.” Her mom rolled her eyes. “Damned private tutor education. I swear, I could kill my ex-husband for suggesting this.”

“You don’t ride yourself then, I take it?” Frank asked and she shook her head.

“No, but when she decided she wanted to, I thought I should make an effort. I think it’s what they refer to in the business as possessing all the gear, but having no idea.”

Frank gave her a smile. “Yeah, well, when my girl decided she wanted to learn I wasn’t particularly keen either but, well, she’s hooked now.”

“Oh, your girl rides too?” The woman flicked her hair back over her shoulder and Frank studied her for a moment, her painted on eyebrows and heavily bronzed face arranged into a genuine look of interest. He realised then that she had absolutely no idea who he was. “Does she do that here?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” He chuckled.

“Huh.” The woman scanned him up and down a little, her eyes blatantly flicking to his left hand. “Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing coming here after all.”

Frank took a deep breath, recognising the flirting for what it was and he gave her a little smile. “Well, I better get on.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m sure Fliss has a list of a hundred other jobs for me to so.”

“So, are you like her mechanic or something?” The woman continued and Frank looked at her, his face remaining straight.

“Something.” He gave her another nod and moved to walk back onto the yard, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, well, we’re new here. We’ve not been here long. I’m Michelle.” She offered, following him.

“Nice to meet you, Michelle.” He looked back over his shoulder as she paused a few steps behind him.

“I err, I didn’t catch your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t give it to you.” He stopped, turning to look at her, a smirk flicking across his face. She bit her lip and grinned back.

“Are you gonna?”

At that Frank let out a bark of a laugh. “Frank. Frank Adler.”

“Nice to meet you, Frank.”

“You too.” He smiled politely, as he slid his aviators back down from the top of his head onto his eyes, before he realised they were dirty. Taking them off he pulled the bottom of his shirt up slightly to wipe at the lens and when he returned them to his face he caught Michelle’s focus was still on his waist line. Her eyes flicked up to his and she shrugged a little.

“Sorry.” She wrinkled her nose. “Can’t blame a girl for looking, huh?”

Frank blinked, glad his eyes were hidden, a little shocked at her forthcoming nature, before he let out a snort.

“Well I’ve done my fair share of looking in the past, not any more though. My fiancée would have my balls hung up on the wall.”

“Oh, erm, sorry, I didn’t, wow.” She blinked and ran her hand through her glossy hair. “That’s embarrassing.”

Frank shrugged. “I’ve been in far worse situations, believe me.” With that he turned, and as he began to walk along the side of the paddock he looked up to see Fliss was watching him over the fence, her hands on her hips. Her eyes were hidden behind her wrap-arounds but he could tell from her demeanour she wasn’t best pleased. With a groan he approached the white post and rail that ran round the ménage and leaned on it.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Her tone was friendly enough, despite her frosty body language, as she walked over towards him. “You get it fixed?”

“Yeah, took me a while to get the bolt off but it’s all good.”

“Thanks.” She slid her hat up a little and wiped at her brow with the back of her arm. “Fuck, its warm today.”

“Well, take your clothes off.” Frank grinned. “It’ll help you cool down.”

“Pervert.” She snorted, before she nodded behind him. “I see you met Kim.”

“Kim?” Frank frowned. “She said her name was Michelle.”

“Yeah, but Joanne calls her Kim Kardashian.” Fliss wrinkled her nose. “On account of the botox and fake boobs.”

“You two are bitches.” Frank scoffed and Fliss shrugged, before he frowned. “Hang on, her boobs are fake?”

“Keep talking, Sailor.” Fliss slid her glasses down and glared at him over the rims and he let out a laugh.

“Baby, I’m joking.” He looked at her and she gave a hum as she pushed them back up her nose as he leaned over the fence a little. “Come ‘ere.”

Fliss stepped towards him and Frank dropped his head to press his lips to hers. “Love you, baby.” He ginned, flashing her his best cheeky grin.

“You can’t get round me that easy.” She shot back and Frank shrugged.

“Who says I’m trying to get round you?”

“I know you, Adler.” She scoffed, stepping back. “Look, I gotta get on so I’ll see you at home. You wanna pick Alex up tonight?”

“Sure, I’ll get him. Is Mary getting the bus home from Summer Camp?”

“Yeah, I told her one of us would pick her up but she insisted.” Fliss shrugged and Frank smiled.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a couple of hours then.”

“Yeah, love you.”

“You too.”

*****

It was gone five before Fliss had finished at the yard. She’d hardly had time to breathe, let alone think about what she’d seen that morning, but that said, it was there, nagging in the back of her brain. She bid Joanne a good night, before she headed down the little path to the house. She was hot, sticky, uncomfortable and ready for a cool shower and a very large glass of white wine. As she walked down the drive, she passed her newly acquired white Hyundai SUV and stopped as she caught her reflection in the tinted rear mirror.

“Oh, Jesus.” She mumbled, moving closer to take a better look. Her skin was the colour of a fucking beet, her hair was all over the place from where she’d removed her cap and tossed it on her desk, her polo shirt was full of all sorts of stains and she was pretty sure she could smell herself and her riding britches were hung a little low on her hips, her soft stomach visible beneath the tight cotton of her top.

And then, from nowhere, came the image of fucking Michelle and her fucking size two figure, with her fucking perfect tits, model smile, stupidly glossy hair, and impeccable eyebrows and straight nose…

Fliss hastily pulled her pony tail out, fluffed out her sweat-damp hair and retied it, before she smoothed down her top as best she could and headed into their yard and through to the utility room, Thor trotting behind her.

“Hey!” Frank greeted her from where he was led on the rug, building some form of tower out of a set of large, brightly coloured blocks as Alex sat next to him, his little hands curling round a few of the bricks. The baby looked round and made an excited noise at the sight of his momma, and shuffled a little onto his knees and hands, crawling towards her.

“Frank, I stink.” She held her hands up in warning and Frank hastily rose, quickly picking Alex up off the floor before he could get much further towards her.

“A little dirt won’t hurt him.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, but I look and feel like I’ve been rolling on the muck heap all day so I’m going straight for a shower.”

Frank chuckled as she gave Alex a quick kiss on the head, moving out of his way before he could grab hold of her. “Well, I think you wear the dirty, stable hand look well, Honey.”

“Sure.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back down in ten, do you mind starting dinner? I was gonna do a quick chicken salad.”

“Course.” Frank nodded, looking at her for a moment and she simply smiled back.

She could feel Frank’s eyes burning into her back as she headed out of the family room into the hallway, trudging up the stairs. As soon as she was in their bedroom she stripped off her sticky, dirty clothes, tossed them onto the floor and climbed straight into the shower, turning it to an adequate temperature. Tipping her face up into the stream she let the lukewarm water cool her slightly, as she blinked back tears of frustration.

Michelle had at least had the good grace to look a little sheepish when she’d realised exactly who Frank was, but fuck, it had still pissed Fliss off to the point she’d wanted to smash her face straight into the floor. And more to the point, Fliss felt annoyed that it had riled her the way it had. It wasn’t exactly like it was an unusual occurrence, everywhere they went Frank seemed to attract female attention, he was gorgeous, but today had been on her home turf, somewhere she was Queen Bee, and to have someone else buzzing around her hive in such a way made her feel uneasy.

Real uneasy.

With a deep breath she washed her hair, sorted herself out and turned off the shower before she wrapped herself in a towel and headed back into the bedroom. As she was brushing out her hair, her phone went off and she picked it up, snorting at the message from Steve which showed a baby-grow with the words, “party at my crib, 3am, bring a bottle,” on the front. She sent him a quick response, pondering for a moment at just how fast Sian’s latest pregnancy seemed to have gone, she was approaching her sixth month now, and seemed to be glowing just as she had with the twins. Mary had been very happy when they’d announced they were expecting another boy, declaring proudly that made her Bill’s only granddaughter, something which, according to her, made her special.

And of course, none of them had corrected her, because it was the truth.

Tapping her nails lightly against the surface of the vanity unit, Fliss scrolled down to her message conversations and found the one to Bonnie, sending her a quick text to ask if she was free. She set about her quick face care routine, before she braided her damp hair, and then her phone began to ring.

“Hey!” Bonnie greeted her. “I’m driving so thought I’d call you…erm, I’m not doing anything in particular, why?”

“Well, I know Si’s outta town on business so I wondered if you fancied company for a few hours?” Fliss replied, keeping the details as sketchy as she could. “Me and a bottle of white? God knows I could do with one after today.”

“That bad huh?” Bonnie chuckled. “Sure why not. I’m not working tomorrow after all. Did I tell you I had many weeks off?”

“You might have mentioned it.” Fliss replied, laughing a little. “You teachers have an easy ride.”

“Fuck you.” Bonnie shot back and Fliss snorted.

“I’m joking, well I’ve no lessons until later tomorrow so I can have a few.” Fliss scratched at her temple. “What time works for you?”

“Well, I’m just on my way to have dinner at my mom’s so, I can pick you up on the way back?” Bonnie offered. “Be about seven ish?”

“Perfect.” Fliss smiled.

“Awesome. We can get down to some Hen Party planning!” Bonnie’s voice was laced with excitement. “I found this awesome villa in Miami that will accommodate everyone.”

“Can’t wait to see it.” Fliss smiled.

After a little more conversation, Fliss placed her phone back down and dressed in a pair of denim shorts, a khaki green boat necked short-sleeved top and shoved her feet into a pair of flip-flops. She took another look in the mirror, scowling once more at her reflection, before she rolled her eyes and headed downstairs.

She walked into the family room and smiled as she saw Mary was sat on a stool at the island whilst Alex was sat in his high chair, munching on a piece of cucumber. Frank was busy tossing things into a salad bowl, and he turned to smile at her as she greeted them all, dropping a kiss to Mary’s head, then Alex’s in turn.

“Feeling better?” Frank asked as she slid her arms round his waist, pressing her face into his t-shirt.

“Yeah, much. God, it was disgustingly hot out there today.”

“Yeah, that’s one thing I don’t miss about working on boats, the lack of air conditioning.” Frank chuckled as she stepped back and moved to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine.

“My face feels burnt, but I don’t know how that’s possible.” She shook her head, thanking Frank as he reached into the cupboard and pulled down a glass for her. “I had a cap and shades on.”

“It doesn’t look too red.” He looked at her and she took a large gulp of wine, giving a satisfied sigh.

“Been waiting for that all afternoon.” She closed her eyes, savouring the taste before she opened them again. “Oh, that reminds me, I’m going over to Bonnie’s later, just for a couple of hours. Hen Do planning, that okay?”

“Course it is.” Frank nodded. “You want me to drop you off?”

“No, she’s at her mum’s so she’s going to come get me. I can Uber back.”

“I’ll pick you up.” Frank looked at her. “We can take the kids and Thor down to the beach for a little flashlight walk on the way back.”

“Flashlight walk?” Mary suddenly spoke, excitement lacing her tone. “The last time we did that it was so cool, we saw all those hermit crabs and the dolphins!”

“Don’t be so nosey.” Frank looked at her and she shrugged.

“You weren’t exactly whispering.”

He rolled his eyes and turned to Fliss who chuckled. “Sure, sounds good. I won’t be long, just a few hours.”

Frank shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, not like Mary needs to be up early and Alex will probably sleep the entire time anyway if he’s in the carrier.”

She gave him a small nod before she set about helping Frank with their dinner. It wasn’t long before it was ready, and they decided to eat outside. Mary chatted away, filling them all in on what she’d done at Summer camp, Frank listening, but all the time keeping one eye on Fliss who seemed to be taking it all in, but wasn’t saying much.

They finished, cleared their dishes away and Mary headed upstairs for a little while, whilst Fliss took Alex for his bath before she brought him back down, ready for bed to give him his bottle which Frank had ready.

She passed him over as Frank made his way to the sofa, dropping down to feed their baby, and Fliss watched for a moment, before her phone beeped.

“Bonnie’s outside.” Fliss stuck it back in her pocket and turned to Frank as he gently shifted Alex so he was a little more comfortable, his small hands curled around the bottle as he drank his milk.

“She not coming in?”

“No point, we’re only going straight back out.”

“Right.” Frank nodded as glanced back down at Alex. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking up at her and Fliss nodded back, a little too quickly, the way she always did when she was trying to hide something and Frank took a deep breath. “Liss…”

“I’m fine.” She shook her head. “Just a little wiped after today, that’s all.” Frank sighed and Fliss narrowed her eyes as she turned towards the kitchen. “Don’t sigh at me like that.”

“I’m not sighing at you like anything.” He replied as she pulled out a bottle of wine to take with her. “Just wish you’d tell me what the problem is.”

“I don’t have a problem.” Fliss rolled her eyes. “I’m just going to Bonnie’s for a few hours. Is my life that sad that whenever I socialise it always has to be because I have a problem?”

“I didn’t say that.” Frank replied, calmly.

“Good, because that’s not why I’m going.”

Knowing he was beat, and that if he pushed it any further they were going to end up in a full scale argument, Frank nodded. “Okay then. Have fun, call me when you’re done.”

Fliss blinked, almost as if she was waiting for him to push her again, before she simply shrugged and leaned over to gently run her finger down Alex’s chubby cheek. She then turned to Frank gave him a quick kiss.

“Love you.” He pressed his lips to hers a little deeper, before she stepped back and he was pleased to see her smiling.

“Love you too.”

Frank watched her go, taking a deep breath as he glanced back down at his son. A few minutes later, Mary bounded into the room and Frank looked up at her.

“Did you hear back from the vets, you know about Cleo?” She asked.

“Yup.” Frank grinned, “wanna read the email?”

“Dur!” She grinned and Frank pulled his phone out form his pocket, scrolling with one hand to the email that had arrived earlier that afternoon before he handed it to her.

“Dear Mr Adler,” Mary read, “I’m pleased to inform you that Sandybrook Cleopatra has passed her five-stage-vetting, bla bla bla,” she skipped on a few lines, “negative worm count, negative for equine influenza, rhino-erm, what’s that?”

“Pneumonitis” Frank read as she turned the screen to him. “I’ve got no idea, some disease, obviously.”

“And Streptococcus Equi, oh I know that one. That’s strangles.” Mary nodded.

“Whatever you say, Stack.” Frank smiled.

“As such, please see attached the completed and fully executed Export Health Certificate. Upon arrival in the USA, your animal will require a further three days quarantine which you must organise ….bla bla bla!” Mary grinned up at him as she handed him his phone back. “So that’s it?”

“Yup!” Frank nodded, as he glanced down at Alex who was now turning away from his bottle, signalling he was done. ”Everything’s done, Jo’s sorted the stuff with Department of Agriculture at this end, el ponio is being collected by the UK transporter tomorrow morning and will be on a flight later that evening.” He paused to rearrange Alex over his shoulder to burp him. “So, if all goes according to plan, she’ll be arriving here after her quarantine mid-afternoon on Fliss’ birthday.” He nodded, before he mumbled. “Thirteen thousand bucks lighter.”

“Thirteen thousand!” Mary spluttered. “Holy shit!”

“Hey, watch your mouth.” Frank looked at her sternly as Alex gave a loud burp. Frank turned his head to look at him. “Better out than in, Bean.”

“Sorry but, Dad, that’s a lot of money. I thought they did you a deal and knocked half off her price because it was Fliss?”

“They did.” He shrugged as he stood and carried Alex over to his pack and play. “She still cost me three. The rest is the cost of the vetting and the transport. But, Poppa B and Nanny V have said they only want half back and Uncle Steeb is chucking in a couple of hundred towards it, so it’s kind of like a joint present.”

“She’s worth it!” Mary grinned and Frank chuckled, heading to kitchen area.

“The horse or Fliss?”

“Mom, of course.” Mary scoffed, hopping up onto a stool at the breakfast bar.

“She sure is.” Frank agreed as he opened the fridge. “But I’ll be telling her that’s her birthday this year, birthday next year, Christmas and first wedding anniversary present all rolled into one.”

“First anniversary?” Mary looked at him. “You ain’t even married yet!”

“I know but now I don’t have to think about buying her anything for like twelve months.” He shrugged, smirking to himself as he leaned down for a bottle of beer, knowing he was talking utter shit. There was no way that was gonna fly, and he didn’t even want to try for the simple reason he loved buying Fliss stuff that made her smile. Still, it was fun trying to watch Mary decide if he was joking or not.

“What about Mother’s Day?” She asked after a moment.

“She aint my mom,” Frank looked at her, “as the eldest the responsibility for that falls to you.” He twisted the lid off the beer as Mary narrowed her eyes. “You want a beer?” He waved the bottle at Mary.

“Really?” Her eyes grew wide.

“No, just wanted to see how much crap I could tell you that you’d actually believe.” He smirked. Mary blinked, before she let out a low groan, realising she’d been had.

“You’re such an idiot.” She shook her head, and Frank watched, chuckling to himself as she bent down, picked Fred up and stalked to her Den, Thor hot on her tail.

*****

“So, I thought,” Bonnie grinned, turning the laptop to face Fliss as they sat at her kitchen table, “that this one sounds perfect. It sleeps up to twelve, has a pool, hot tub, is a short walk to the beach, not far from down-town and also literally a five minute walk to the hotel we stayed in, where we can get a really good deal on a Day-Spa package. And, we can also get someone in on the Saturday to do a grill and cocktails for us, if that’s what you wanna do.”

Fliss gave a small smile, and Bonnie frowned. “Or, not. Sorry, is it not what you wanted? I thought-“ Fliss sighed, her hand laying on Bonnie’s arm. “No, that…” she took a deep breath and smiled, “it sounds perfect, Bonnie. Honestly it does.”

“So, why are you making me feel like I’ve given you a dog turd on a plate and told you it’s your dinner?”

At that Fliss choked on the mouthful of wine she’d taken and looked at her best friend. “You know, for a teacher, you really have a way with words.”

Bonnie chuckled, as Fliss shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s not you. I’m just feeling a little…actually, I don’t know what I’m feeling. Pissed off, maybe?”

“Why, what’s happened?” Bonnie looked at her.

“Just…oh, you know what, it’s nothing.” Fliss brushed it off, necking the remainder of the wine in her bottle. “Can I get a top up?”

“I’ll get it.” Bonnie nodded and stood up from the table. A moment or two later she returned, and held the bottle up. “You speak, and I’ll pour.”

Fliss blinked, realising she wasn’t going to get away with it, so she sat back and blurted everything out. How she’d felt seeing Frank with the bimbo at the yard, how she was feeling a little insecure over how she looked because she’d once upon a time been that groomed, perfect looking person. And the more she talked, the more tumbled out about how she felt sometimes that Frank was way out of her league before Bonnie shook her head and cut her off.

“Are you listening to yourself?” She scoffed. “Jesus Christ, I haven’t heard anyone talk this much shit since Simon told me he was gonna run a marathon.”

“Hey, you asked what was wrong.” Fliss looked at her, her temper flashing a little. “I’m just telling you!”

“Yeah, and I’m just telling you, you’re a fucking moron.” Bonnie shook her head. “Fliss, you’re beautiful. Honestly, like, if I have kids and end up with your figure after, I’ll be over the moon. But that aside, Frank loves YOU. Not the way you look, or the way your hair is styled, or the way your eyebrows are painted on, he loves you.”

“I know.” Fliss nodded, sniffing a little. “I know he does, and I know he’d never cheat on me, I get that. I just, oh I don’t know, I don’t know why I feel like this. I can’t explain it.”

Bonnie side eyed Fliss as she topped her glass up before she sat down at the table, taking a deep breath. “Do you think this has anything to do with your ex?”

Fliss frowned, shaking her head. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, you told me he used to put you down about how you looked, compared you to other women he, well, fucked behind your back.” Bonnie trailed off. “I don’t know, I was just thinking maybe that deep in your mind, you kinda still think you should have a face caked in make-up and boobs pushed up to your chin.”

Fliss gave a snort at Bonnie’s description before she shrugged. “I don’t feel like that, not really. I’ve never bothered about anything like that whilst I’ve been with Frank. But something about her just pissed me off, more so because she was doing it right there in my own back fucking yard.” Fliss took another slug of wine before she bit her lip. “Maybe you’re right, maybe it’s because she reminds me of that past life.” She tapped her nails against her glass. “But, I was fucking miserable, and now I’m not, so why would I even bother about some bimbo flirting with my man? It’s not like he did anything or was gonna.”

“So, basically, we’ve come to the conclusion that this woman is a tramp and you’re an idiot.” Bonnie nodded and despite herself, Fliss laughed.

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“Hmm,” Bonnie sipped her wine. “Okay, I’m glad we got that sorted.” She took another sip before she gently reached out and squeezed Fliss hand. “You got nothing to worry about. Frank adores you, to be honest, me and Simon always say it’s kinda gross the way he’s always like looking at you with stupid doe eyes or touching you whenever he can.”

Fliss smiled, a fond look crossing her face as she knew what Bonnie was saying was true. Any chance Frank got he would touch or cuddle her, and it was never in a dominant way like it had been with John, it was because he simply wanted to, it was his love language. “Yeah, he’s touchy.”

Bonnie smiled and sat back as Fliss took a deep breath. “But you should talk to him, tell him how you feel.”

Fliss shrugged. “Maybe, like you said, I’m being an idiot.” She gave her friend another smile before she nodded back towards the laptop. “But, now for the fun stuff. Show me what you got planned for our weekend of debauchery in Miami, Maid Of Honor!”

**** It was a little before ten when Fliss called Frank to say she was ready for pick up if he still wanted to come get her, which was a dumb question, because of course he did. He packed the kids into the car, and drove the fifteen minutes or so to Bonnie’s and Fliss clambered into the passenger seat, her cheeks flushed a little from the wine. After giving him a quick kiss, she turned to smile at Mary who beamed at her, her head torch already in position, Thor’s flashing light up collar sitting pretty around his neck as he perched in the middle seat between her and Alex who was in the baby chair, fast asleep.

They drove down to the Public Access, the same stretch of beach they would be married on in a matter of weeks, and all climbed out, Frank gently settling Alex in the carrier that hung over his chest before he offered Fliss his hand and they headed onto the moonlit sand. They walked in silence for a while, the air finally cooled enough to be enjoyable, Mary running ahead of them, Thor gambolling in and out of the waves, giving a little bark of enjoyment as he chased the surf.

“He’s gonna be soaked when he gets back in the truck.” Frank groaned and Fliss laughed.

“Should have come in mine, he could have sat in the trunk.”

“He can ride home on the flatbed.”

“Don’t you dare.” Fliss nudged Frank with her elbow and he chuckled, his arm sliding round her shoulder as he pressed a kiss to her head.

“You gonna tell me what’s bothering you now?” Frank asked as they continued to stroll up the beach.

“Nothing.”

“Lissy.” Frank spoke sternly and stopped to face her. She let out a sigh, her hand reaching up to smooth over Alex’s hair as he lay slumped against his dad’s chest.

“I’m being an idiot, I know that. But seeing you before, at the yard I just…”

It was Frank’s turn to sigh as he shook his head. “Honey, I-“

“No, I know what you’re gonna say but, I just, well, she was there looking like a fucking model and then there was me, and I used to be that size, and I used to be that person, that looked half decent, you know? I can’t remember the last time I actually wore any form of make-up bar a bit of tinted moisturiser or mascara, or when I last straightened my hair, let alone painted on my damned eyebrows! And then she’s flirting with you flashing her perfect teeth, and her perfect fake boobs and her line free brow and plump lips, all full of fillers and botox and-“

“You want Botox?” Frank cut her off mid rant and Fliss let out a groan.

“No I don’t want fucking Botox, Frank!”

“Well shut up talking about it then!” He laughed. “Look, I don’t want that fake shit either. Do I look like the type of guy who wants someone who is just one step away from being a Malibu Barbie? Fuck that!”

“You look like the type of guy who should want a Malibu Barbie.” Fliss replied, somewhat sullenly. “You don’t see the looks you get every time we go out.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You know, girls like that are ten a penny down on the boardwalk. But you’re the one I took sailing.” “Thanks a backhanded compliment.” Fliss narrowed her eyes and Frank laughed, cupping her face in his hands.

“Look, Sweetheart, I love you.” He shrugged simply. “Because you’re beautiful, inside and out and because you’re my Lissy.” He pulled her face up to meet his, placing a soft kiss to her lips, his nose sliding against hers.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I wasn’t mad at you, just feeling a little low I suppose.”

“You know I get it too.” Frank smiled, dropping his hands to take hers. “You think I don’t notice the looks you get when we go out?”

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” Frank assured her as he entwined their fingers together. “But I don’t care. Because I know you’re mine, and I’m yours. So please don’t think for a second I’d even think about anyone else that way.”

He dropped a soft, slow, deep kiss to her lips and when she pulled back, she smiled.

“Sorry, I know, I was being an idiot.”

“Yeah.” He nodded in agreement and she chuckled as he returned his arm to round her shoulders and they continued walking, the sound of the waves against the shore a perfect back drop to Mary’s excited shouts and Thor’s little barks.

“When you said you said you wouldn’t think about anyone…” She started and Frank was pleased to note her voice was full of mischief, his playful Lissy was back.

“Well,” he wrinkled his nose, shrugging a little, “maybe if Rihanna came knocking then I’d have to give it some serious consideration.”

“To be fair I’d give it some serious consideration, too.” Fliss mused and Frank arched a brow, teasingly as he looked down at her.

“Yeah?”

“Damned straight. I’d do her, she’s hot.” Fliss shrugged and Frank’s face split into a dirty grin as he stopped them both, using the arm round her shoulder to spin her into him as best he could with their son placed between them.

“Now there’s an image!” His voice was loaded with suggestiveness and Fliss laughed as his lips brushed hers.

“Pervert.” She whispered, her hand once more sweeping over the back of their sleeping baby’s head.

“Only for you.” He smiled, before he looked up, considering something. “And Rihanna.”

**** Chapter 25

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #frank adler fanfiction #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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mammons-tax-returns · 4 years

Note

"for one muse to kiss the other's scar" w satan pls? 👉🏻👈🏻

masterlist / 600+ followers event

Thank you for your request, anon! No pronouns were specified so I hope you don’t mind masc mc :’)

I kept getting scared that this was getting too lengthy (i have a short ass attention span so ik i cant read long stuff LMAO) so I redid a bunch of parts, i hope it’s not too apparent!

✖️MALE MC✖️

Anything with history is an eye-catcher to Satan.

Just like a good novel, things with meaning and origins deeper than surface level are so much more enjoyable and genuine than things that simply are there. Who says an Avatar of Wrath can’t be poetic?

But it’s often that things with such overwhelming sentiment that Satan feels become an eye sore much quicker than anything else. Some things of personal importance are meant to be remembered, but not belabored to the point of ruin.

He is forced to face this fact today when Lucifer pushes a boundary that may not have even existed before. At any rate, it does now. Skipping past the point of negotiation entirely, Satan now finds himself pacing his room, cursing his brothers name under his hissing breath.

MC patiently watches as Satan goes through his breathing exercises on his own, knowing that if Satan has learned to calm down on his own before, he can do it again. Just being in his room with him is enough.

On the other hand, Satan isn’t too keen on that idea.

Things have become enstranged between him and Lucifer— Even more so. At this point, it’s hard to tell that MC’s help had brought them any closer at all.

The recent fights and arguments continuously end in Satan peering at the long, winding scar wrapping around his wrist and forearm like a ravenous snake. Just its faded presence is enough to make him conflicted.

He received this scar long ago, at least thousands of years ago. From a day that Lucifer got a bit too close to Satan when he was angry.

Maybe that was the day that set the precedent. The precedent that stated that no matter how smart or calm he presents, there will always be some turmoil within him brewing like a storm.

The disappointment and weariness that shows in his own family’s faces when he gets worked up is so evident he wishes he could be anyone else than who he is. Even if just for a day. But isn’t it unfair to only expect chaos from him? Certainly he’s been doing better to keep his anger in check... Right?

Besides... It’s just his nature to be angry. So, maybe... No, he still is held accountable for his actions. He definitely should just—

“Satan? Are you... Are you okay?” MC quietly calls his name from his bed. Perhaps he should have called Satan’s name a little earlier? The demon stood staring at his clothed arm in absolute silence for a number of minutes until now.

Satan’s eyes open a little wider. “Huh..? Oh, I’m sorry. I must have spaced out... How uncharacteristic of me.” He can’t find it in himself to smile, and instead uses his left hand to hold onto his scarred forearm, pushing it aside in hopes to shake off his intrusive thoughts.

“Moreover... I feel like I have calmed down significantly. Thank you for being here MC, but perhaps you’ve been bored out of your mind here.” He gives a firm smile and quickly looks away. “You may leave if you’d like.”

MC doesn’t quite listen to his offer. Satan seemed more tensed than normal when he would have “calmed down”. If he were a danger to be around at that moment, he would have said so, anyways. And if there was any chance of being able to help him before he does something risky, MC would take it.

“Well... It wouldn’t hurt to stay just a bit more, would it?” MC gave him a small smile, in which Satan seemed to become a bit flustered upon seeing.

Satan wonders how to respond. MC was right. And it may just hurt more if Satan is alone with his thoughts. “Oh, MC.” He sighs with unsaid appreciation, then makes his way into bed beside the human, who is still sitting on the edge. “Sometimes I wonder who truly are the angels of the exchange program.”

MC giggles, rolling over so that the two males lay side by side. “I’m no angel, but humans aren’t so bad... Occasionally.”

Satan smiles to let him know that the response was well received. Lord knows how grim his expression was while he was subconsciously considering his past just moments ago.

“But, that aside...” MC turns his head to look at the blonde. “What’s wrong, Satan? I’m not forcing anything out, but I’m thinking I should start to worry.”

Satan could almost laugh at those words. Worry? For him? A demon who embodies fury and unrelenting rage? It’s... A little odd to picture.

“Hmph. Well... Now that I have to put it in words, it seems a bit silly when it really shouldn’t be...”

MC raised a brow. “Based off of how you were glaring at your hands earlier, I doubt that this is about it being silly, and more about you trying to downplay it. But I’d say that’s a rather common coping mechanism.”

Satan felt as if he were see through. A mere glass pane. How could someone see into his mind so well? He had barely gotten into his explanation at all. “Er. I guess you could say that...

“It would appear that the tension... Between Lucifer and I has caused some rather distasteful memories to surface.” Satan mumbles the words as if they would reflect his character poorly. As if they were something to be ashamed of.

MC picks up on this, and a frown deepens his features. “Satan...” He pauses to think about what to say next, “You see, this is the part where I have no idea what to add because you guys have thousands of years of age on me.”

Satan ruffles the male’s hair when he sees the small pout on his lips. “You’ll come to learn that most demons are petty, shallow creatures with personalities about as deep as a puddle,”

Coming to a stop, the Avater of Wrath subconsciously began to pull up his sleeve to reveal the very edge of his scar. However, he hesitates, and his throat tightens just barely.

What in the hell was he doing?

“...” MC can’t look away from Satan’s hands, and it seems that time has stopped for a moment. Even the air that previously entered and exited MC’s nose seized.

Satan suddenly relaxes. It’s just MC. A human that knows all too well that this household could be dangerous and frightening. So he continues to pull up the bit of cloth covering peach skin.

“And sometimes, we tend to give into vainglorious temptations that only end up hurting someone, or everyone.” Satan finishes, voice barely breaking the border between a whisper and mutter. “I suppose I could have gone about pushing Lucifer’s buttons in a smarter way... But I didn’t, unfortunately. So I’m left with this loving scar from my brother.”

MC supresses a gasp, and gently takes hold of Satan’s arm. “It looks like it was super deep... I’m sorry this happened to you Satan.”

Satan watches MC trail his fingers calmingly along the edge of his river-like line along his arm. He rotates his forearm so that he can follow its path all around his arm.

“I appreciate that, MC... But I’m ‘over it’, for lack of better words. You see here, the scars actually make the silhouette of a cat on the untouched skin. It’s rather cute.”

MC laughs at the revelation. It was cute. But as much as he could admire Satan’s turning of an unfortunate event into a moment of entertainment for the two of them, he couldn’t ignore the weary look on Satan’s face.

“Awh... That’s adorable.” MC lightly mocks a babyish tone, and rubs his finger on the head of this imaginary feline. “It’s like a mini Satan cat.” He feels Satan’s shoulder move as he chuckles breathily.

“I value your adoration for my unsightly skin, MC. But if you’re so affectionate to this mere imagery of ‘mini Satan’ , perhaps you could spare a moment or two paying more attention to me.” He’s not sure if Satan means to sound dismayed rather than playful, even through the smile on his lips.

So he decides to gently grab onto Satan’s arm and press his lips against the indented skin on his forearm.

“M-MC-..!” Satan jumps, free hand freezing mid-air. His body heat is rising, and he’s sure MC can feel it.

“You’d better not be talking about Mini Satan like that, Satan.” MC mumbles against his skin. “He’s not unsightly. He’s wonderful and handsome, just like you.”

Satan can’t find a way to respond. Was he supposed to feel his heart squeeze? This seemed too menial of a response from MC for his heart to be racing like this. He simply smiles and shakes his head helplessly.

“Thank you, MC...” He lets out the breath he had been holding in.

Perhaps he could afford to be transparent every once in a while.

#obey me satan #satan x mc #male reader #obey me #satan

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a-quiet-detective · 2 years

Text

Roleplay Rules

1. Please don’t reply with one word/short liner responses, as they are harder to think of a reply too in return. Sentences don’t have to be literature level in length, but something semi-lit would be appreciated.

2. I’m okay with doing shippy roleplays with anyone from the three games, mainly V3 as that’s the cast Shuichi is closer to, of course. Just make sure to let me know if the RP will take just a platonic path or turn into something romantic. OCs, Fangan characters, and characters from non-dangan series will stay platonic. Of course pedophilic, abusive, incest relationships are never allowed.

(For comfort reasons, I would prefer any interactions with Kokichi Ouma to remain platonic.)

3. This is mainly for OCs but don’t force any headcanons or relationships onto the muses, like “They’re supposed to be in love!” If you don’t tell me how you want the muses to play out, then I’m just gonna reply like he’s meeting them for the first time (unless it’s V3 of course.)

4. When sending a starter, ask, etc. you may specify if you want grown up (🍵) or little (🍼) Shuichi to reply, by either with the emojis or just saying so. It is also recommended to specify if a question is going to the mun or the muse.

5. With school and general depression/tiredness, motivation to think of a reply can be very spotty, so it might not always be instant. I don’t mind a gentle reminder if it’s been a few days or so, but please don’t rush me or be rude.

6. Both mun and muse are 18+, so somewhat risqué asks are allowed, but nothing too gross and do NOT direct them to Shu when regressed. Excess grossness will result in a block.

7. There may be talks and mentions of babyish things like diapers on this blog, which will be tagged with #ageredips so you may block it. Usage and talk of them will not be in a sexual way, and attempting to be gross about it will result in a block.

#roleplay rules #rp rules #ask blog rules #rules

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bogkeep · 4 years

Text

hmmmmmmmmmm maybe i’ll write an Introspective Musing Post about my relationship to religion and their depiction in stories because i’ve pondering about this topic lately

so for those who are reading this and DON’T know what’s been going on... there’s this webcomic i fell in love with some years ago, about six years actually, that depicts a post-apocalyptic fantasy/horror adventure set in the nordic countries. it had, and has still, some very uncomfortable flaws regarding racial representation, and the creator has historically not dealt very well with criticism towards it. it’s a whole Thing. my relationship with this comic has fluctuated a lot, since there are a lot of elements in it i DO love and i still feel very nostalgic about, and like idk i felt like i trust my skills in critical thinking enough to keep reading. aaand then the creator went a teensy bit off the deep end created a whole minicomic which is like... a lukewarm social media dystopia where christians are oppressed (and also everyone is a cute bunny, including our lord and saviour jesus christ). which is already tonedeaf enough considering there are religious people who DO get prosecuted for their faith, like, that’s an actual reality for a lot of people - but as far as i can tell, usually not christians. and then there’s an afterword that’s like, “anyway i got recently converted and realized i’m a disgusting human being full of sin who doesn’t deserve redemption but jesus loves me so i’ll be fine!! remember to repent for your sins xoxo” and a bunch of other stuff and IT’S KIND OF REALLY CONCERNING i have, uh, been habitually looking at the reactions to and discussions around this, maybe it’s not very self care of me but there’s a lot of overwhelming things rn and it’s fantastically distracting, yknow? like, overall this situation is fairly reminiscent of the whole jkr thing. creator of a series that is Fairly Beloved, does something hurtful, handles backlash in a weird way, a lot of people start taking distance from Beloved Series or find ways to enjoy it on their own terms, creator later reveals to have been fully radicalized and releases a whole manifesto, and any and all criticism gets framed as harassment and proving them right. of course, one of them is a super rich person with a LOT of media power and a topic that is a lot more destructive in our current zeitgeist, and the other is an independent webcomic creator, so it’s not the same situation. just similar vibez ya feel as a result of this, i have been Thinking. and just this feels like some sort of defeat like god dammit she got me i AM thinking about the topic she wrote about!!! i should dismiss the whole thing!!! but thinking about topics is probably a good thing so hey lets go. me, i’m agnostic. i understand that this is a ‘lazy’ position to take, but it’s what works for me. i simply do not vibe with organized religion, personally. (i had the wikipedia page for ‘chaos magic’ open in a tab for several weeks, if that helps.) i was raised by atheists in a majorly atheist culture. christian atheist, i should specify. norway has been mostly and historically lutheran, and religion has usually been a private and personal thing. it turns out the teacher i had in 7th grade was mormon, but i ONLY found out because he showed up in a tv series discussing religious groups in norway later, and he was honestly one of the best teachers i have ever had - he reignited the whole class’ interest in science, math, and dungeons and dragons. it was a real “wait WHAT” moment for my teenage self. i think i was briefly converted to christianity by my friend when i was like 7, who grew up in a christian family (i visited them a couple times and always forgot they do prayers before dinner. oops!), but like, she ALSO made me believe she was the guardian of a secret magic orb that controls the entire world and if i told anybody the world would burn down in 3 seconds. i only suspected something was off when one day the Orb ran on batteries, and another day the Orb had to be plugged in to charge. in my defense i really wanted to be part of a cool fantasy plot. i had no idea how to be a christian beyond “uuuuh believe in god i guess” so it just faded away on its own. when i met this friend several years later, she was no longer christian. i think every childhood friend of mine who grew up in a christian family, was no longer christian when they grew up. most notably my closest internet friend whose family was catholic - she had several siblings, and each of them took a wildly different path, from hippie treehugger to laveyan satanist or something in that area. (i joined them for a sermon in a church when they visited my town. my phone went off during it because i had forgotten to silence it. oops!) ((i also really liked their mother’s interpretation of purgatory. she explained it as a bath, not fire. i like that.)) i have never had any personal negative experiences with christianity, despite being openly queer/gay/trans. the only time someone has directly told me i’m going to hell was some guy who saw me wearing a hoodie on norway’s constitution day. yeah i still remember that you bastard i’ve sworn to be spiteful about it till the day i die!! i’ve actually had much more insufferable interactions with the obnoxious kind of atheists - like yes yes i agree with you on a lot but that doesn’t diminish your ability to be an absolute hypocrite, it turns out? i remember going to see the movie ‘noah’ with a friend who had recently discovered reddit atheism and it was just really exhausting to discuss it with her. one of these Obnoxious Atheists is my Own Mother. which is a little strange, honestly, because she LOVES visiting churches for the Aesthetic and Architecture. we cannot go anywhere without having to stop by a pretty church to Admire and Explore. I’VE BEEN IN SO MANY CHURCHES FOR AN ATHEIST RAISED NON-CHRISTIAN. i’ve been to the vatican TWICE (i genuinely don’t even know how much of my extended family is christian. up north in the tiny village i come from, i believe my uncle is the churchkeeper, and it’s the only building in the area that did not get burnt down by the the nazis during ww2 - mostly because soldiers needed a place to sleep. still don’t know whether or not said uncle believes or not, because hey, it’s Personal) i think my biggest personal relationship to religion, and christianity specifically, has been academic. yeah, we learned a brief synopsis of world religions at school (and i remember the class used to be called ‘christianity, religion, and ethics’ and got changed to ‘religion, beliefs, and ethics’ which is cool. it was probably a big discourse but i was a teen who didnt care), but also my bachelor degree is in art history, specifically western art history because it’s a vast sprawling topic and they had to distill it as best they could SIGHS. western art history is deeply entangled with the history of the church, and i think the most i’ve ever learnt about christianity is through these classes (one of my professors wrote an article about how jesus can be interpreted as queer which i Deeply Appreciate). i also specifically tried to diversify my academic input by picking classes such as ‘depiction of muslims and jewish people in western medieval art’ and ‘art and religion’ when i was an exchange student in canada, along with 101 classes in anthropology and archaeology. because i think human diversity and culture is very cool and i want to absorb that knowledge as best as i can. i think my exchange semester in canada was the most religiously diverse space have ever been in, to be honest. now as an adult i have more christian friends again, but friends who chose it for themselves, and who practice in ways that sound good and healthy, like a place of solace and community for them. the vast majority of my friends are queer too, yknow?? i’ve known too many people who have seen these identities as fated opposites, but they aren’t, they’re just parts of who people are. it’s like... i genuinely love people having their faiths and beliefs so much. i love people finding that space where they belong and feel safe in. i love people having communities and heritages and connections. i deeply respect and admire opening up that space for faith within any other communities, like... if i’m going to listen to a podcast about scepticism and cults, i am not going to listen to it if it’s just an excuse to bash religion. i think the search for truth needs to be compassionate, always. you can acknowledge that crystals are cool and make people happy AND that multi level marketing schemes are deeply harmful and prey on people in vulnerable situaitons. YOU KNOW???? so now’s when i bring up Apocalypse Comic again. one of the things i really did like about it was, ironically, how it handled religion. in its setting, people have returned to old gods, and their magic drew power from their religion. characters from different regions had different beliefs and sources. in the first arc, they meet the spirit of a lutheran pastor, who ends up helping them with her powers. it was treated as, in the creators own words, ‘just another mythology’. and honestly? i love that. it was one of the nicest depictions i’ve seen of christianity in fiction, and as something that could coexist with other faiths. I Vibe With That. and then, uh, then... bunny dystopia comic. it just... it just straight up tells you christianity is literally the only way to..?? be a good person??? i guess?? i’m still kind of struggling to parse what exactly it wanted to say. the evil social media overlord bird tells you the bible makes you a DANGEROUS FREETHINKER, but the comic also treats rewriting the bible or finding your own way to faith as something,, Bad. The Bible Must Remain Unsullied. Never Criticize The Bible. also, doing good things just for social media clout is bad and selfish. you should do good things so you don’t burn in hell instead. is that the message? it reads a lot like the comic creator already had the idea for the comic, but only got the urge to make it after she was converted and needed to spread the good word. you do you i guess!! i understand that she’s new to this and probably Going Through Something, and this is just a step on her journey. but the absolute self-loathing she described in her afterword... it does not sound good. i’m just some agnostic kid so what do i know, but i do not think that kind of self-flagellating is a kind faith to have for yourself. i might not ever have been properly religious, but you know what i AM familiar with? a brain wired for ocd and intrusive thoughts. for a lot of my life i’ve struggled with my own kind of purity complex. i’ve had this really strange sensitivity for things that felt ‘tainted’. i’ve experienced having to remove more and more words from my vocabulary because they were Bad and i did not want to sully my sentences. it stacked, too - if a word turned out to be an euphemism for something, i could never feel comfortable saying it again. i still struggle a bit with these things, but i have confronted these things within myself. i’ve had to make myself comfortable with imperfection and ‘tainted’ things and accept that these are just, arbitrary categories my mind made up. maybe that’s the reason i can’t do organized religion even if i found one that fit for me - just like diets can trigger disordered eating, i think it would carve some bad brainpaths for me. so yeah i’m worried i guess! i’m worried when people think it’s so good that she finally found the correct faith even if it’s causing all this self-hate. is there really not a better way? or are they just trusting she’ll find it? and yeah it’s none of my concern, it’s like, i worry for jkr too but i do not want her within miles of my trans self thANKS. so like, i DO enjoy media that explores faith and what it means for you. my favourite band is the oh hellos, which DOES draw on faith and the songwriter’s experience with it. because of my religious iliteracy most of it has flown over my head for years and i’m like “oh hey this is gay” and then only later realize it was about god all along Probably. i like what they’ve done with the place. also, stormlight archive - i had NO idea sanderson was mormon, the way he writes his characters, many of whom actively discuss religion and their relationship to it. i love that about the books, honestly. Media That Explores Religion In A Complex And Compassionate Way... we like that i’ve been thinking about my own stories too, and how i might want to explore faith in them. most of my settings are based on magic and it’s like, what role does religion have in a world where gods are real and makes u magic. in sparrow spellcaster’s story, xe creates? summons? an old god - brings them to life out of the idea of them. it’s a story about hubris, mostly. then there’s iphimery, the story where i am actively fleshing out a pantheon. there’s no doubt the gods are real in the fantasy version of iphimery, they are the source of magic and sustain themselves on slivers of humanity in exchange. but in the modern version, where they are mostly forgotten? that’s some room for me to explore, i think. especially the character of timian, who comes from a smaller town and moves to a large and diverse city. in the fantasy story, the guardian deity chooses his sister as a vessel. in the modern setting, that does not happen, and i don’t yet know what does, but i really want timian to be someone who struggles with his identity - his faith, his sexuality, the expectations cast upon him by his hometown... i’m sure it’s a cliché story retold through a million gay characters but i want to do it too okay. i want to see him carve out his own way of existing within the world because i care him and want to see him thrive!!! alrighty i THINK that’s all i wanted to write. thanks if you read all of this, and if you didn’t that’s super cool have a nice day !

#rambles #i wrote this for me and theres no obligation to read it

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nosixth · 3 years

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URL MUSE PLAYLIST

—create a playlist that encompasses your muse using only the letters of your url. ( multi-muse — specify which muse(s) each song makes you think of. ) repost, do not reblog.

NO CHILDREN —— THE MOUNTAIN GOATS . ( ❝ and i hope when you think of me years down the line / you can’t find one good thing to say ❞ ) OH NO! —— MARINA . ( ❝ 'cause i feel like i’m the worst / so i always act like i’m the best ❞ ) SARCASM —— GET SCARED . ( ❝ sticks and stones could break my bones / but anything you say will only fuel my lungs ❞ ) INTO THE UNKNOWN —— STARSET . ( ❝ take the path less traveled / face the darkness on my own ❞ ) XO —— THE EDEN PROJECT . ( ❝ i don’t think i love you no more / you never seem to call me lately ❞ ) TWISTED —— MISSIO . ( ❝ everybody in the world knows i’m a little twisted ❞ ) HALLELUJAH ( I’M NOT DEAD ) —— CITIZEN SOLDIER . ( ❝ living on a razor’s edge / danced with demons, tasted death ❞ )

#— ⟡ . * ( HEADCANON . ) ┇ ❛ NOT EVERY OPEN WOUND IS SIMPLY HEALED BY TIME . ❜#( this was harder than i thought it'd be DSKJDKJ it was fun though!! )

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venusofthehardsells · 4 years

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No Rest for the Wicked [Dea ex Machina part one]

John ConstantinexAngel!Reader Summary: You travel to a remote island to put a murderous spirit to rest, but things get complicated when you run into one John Constantine. Warnings: swearing, mentions of mental illness, blood, smoking, ghosts, pining, is slowburn a warning? A/N: My first Constantine fic on tumblr, yay! This was originally written for a challenge aaages ago, but it got away from me and I couldn’t meet the deadline. I had so much fun with this though, Constantine is a great character to write for! There will definitely be more stories about him and this particular angelic reader in the future ♥

I’ve mixed elements from both the Vertigo comics and the NBC TV series, as well as from the general DC Universe, so don’t expect accuracy when it comes to canon. A special thanks to @nellblazer for support and linguistic aid, you’re the best! ♥ Let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged ~

Contrary to common belief, there had never actually been any ravens on Raven’s Rock. The tiny, windswept fleck of land in the North Sea had been named a few hundred years ago by a fool of a sailor, who hadn’t been able to tell a raven from a severely lost and consequently very confused Scandinavian pigeon. Said sailor had regrettably also been of some importance in his homeland at the time, meaning no one had bothered to correct the unfortunate mistake for fear of losing a head. Even though everyone who since came upon the island only ever managed to find gulls and puffins and various other seabirds, it had still kept its misleading English name.

The Celts, who by rights had been on the island long before the British, had chosen to play it safe and completely forego the bird names (although it had been suggested several times in later centuries to change it to the Gaelic word for seagull, or even pigeon, as a taunt). Instead, they had most likely looked to the ancient ruins that specked the island, jutting up from the rocks like broken teeth and, all things considered, had endured well beyond memory and history and legend. Or perhaps they had still been reeling from the mad determination that had brought them and their wooden ships so far from home. Whichever the case, they had called the stubborn, little rock Innis Seasmhach, “the steadfast island”.

That was its official name to this day, though most people, especially those who didn’t speak Gaelic (which in all fairness are not very many), still referred to it as Raven’s Rock.

The locals shrugged and simply called it “the island”.

There was only one village on the entire island, whose population on a good day might reach a hundred and thirty people. That usually only happened a few times during summer when the ferries from Stavanger and Aberdeen docked at the same time. The tourists came to see the ruins, buy a souvenir fridge magnet of a raven or a puffin, complain about the frightfully bleak weather and leave again on one of the ferries that departed before evenfall, secretly happy they didn’t have to spend any more time on the island.

On the day you arrived, the population on the isle of Raven’s Rock, was an astounding one hundred and forty four, which was quite unheard of in the middle of October.

What was even more unheard of, however, was the reason for all these untimely appearances.

A night ago, a pair of fishermen had discovered the body of a man in a small, secluded cove on the north side of the island. The body was placed so that it could only be seen from sea, unless one were to venture down a rocky and extremely narrow trail into the cove itself. It wasn’t hard to imagine someone slipping and ending up on the stony beach below. That kind of unfortunate death was of course tragic, but it hardly warranted the wide array of policemen and journalists the death had attracted. No, the reason for the sudden interest was the gruesome way the body had been displayed.

The dead man had been stripped bare and splayed out on the rocks like a cross with his arms stretched away from his torso. His skin was almost completely covered in symbols and writing no one could make sense of, though one expert, when consulted by the mystified and slightly desperate police, vaguely suggested it was possibly a rare pre-Arthurian dialect.

The more macabre specifics had so far been kept out of the press.

One was that the writings on the body had been done in blood, the corpse’s own, and another was that it came from where the head had been crudely severed from the rest of the flesh and spiked close by on a piece of driftwood.

Even hypnotised, the young sergeant who had told you, had looked slightly green when he related the information. You had padded him sympathetically on the shoulder before moving on. He wouldn’t remember revealing the details to you, but the information itself was seared into his mind forever.

His, along with the rest of the islanders’, you mused as you continued from the harbour and on into the village.

The locals called it “town”, but in truth it wasn’t really big enough to warrant that title.

It had one store that sold a little bit of everything depending on the weather, a church, a pub, a repair shop (it wasn’t specified what exactly you could get repaired there) and a public building, functioning as city hall, police station, post office, library and school in one. All the police reinforcements from Aberdeen had been moved into the city hall, seeing as the only two policemen permanently stationed on the island had never handled a murder case before. Meanwhile, the reporters and TV crews covering the case were taking up the pub’s five tiny bedrooms, both B&Bs and every single rental cottage Raven’s Rock could boast (nine in total if you counted the back room in the garage of the repair shop). Because you had left for the airport in a hurry and jumped onto the first plane to Norway, you hadn’t had time to secure a place to sleep on the island. You had pondered it on the ferry, but when it came down to it, you didn’t want to stick around longer than a day. If you worked fast, you could probably be on your way back to the mainland in the morning and wouldn’t need to worry about finding a bed. You had spotted a bench down by the harbour; it would have to do.

Besides, you didn’t have any time to waste as long as the murder case was unsolved. You could still hear Madame Xanadu’s words in your head like some annoying ominous echo.

A restless darkness will carry its evil across the water to be unleashed upon the twice-named rocks. The steadfast land will drink the blood of the laughing magician.

Fate was a menace when you had to deal with it like this, grounded and fumbling through the world with nothing but scraps to guide you. Not like in the old days when you had all of Heaven at your disposal… Being a proper angel had really had its advantages. You scoffed and walked faster. At least this prophecy had been pretty straightforward, which was far from what you were usually given to work with, you thought sourly, folding your arms around yourself against the wind.

A malevolent spirit that should have passed on, but hadn’t was easy enough to figure out; it happened all the time and you could deal with that. The location of the spirit had also been a walk in the park with so many hints to go on.

What really worried you was the second part of Madame Xanadu’s little mystic insight.

The steadfast land will drink the blood of the laughing magician.

Blood drinking was never a good omen in prophecies. It hardly ever meant vampires, usually just death. And the laughing magician, well, that one was always the same. The reason Madame Xanadu had called upon you to restore the balance in this place.

John Constantine.

Whenever one of her foresights indicated that the blonde warlock was walking into something he couldn’t handle himself, she sent you after him or, in this case, ahead to clear his path for him. Most times, he didn’t even know you had been there and you preferred it that way.

Like now.

The last you had heard of John was that he was in the States. Sufficiently far away, you thought. Even if someone had alerted him to the murder on Raven’s Rock, it would be at least another day before he could reach the windswept little island and by then you hoped to be long gone. It was best if you two didn’t meet at all.

You chewed on your lip as you thought of him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him, it was just… easier if you didn’t. The things you did, the jobs you took were simply too dangerous if your focus wasn’t a hundred per cent on the task in front of you. And with John around, your newly mortal heart had a tendency to make your better judgement evaporate.

You passed a phonebox on the main (and only) street that looked as though it had seen better days and a small tourist information office/part time bakery with its doors and windows shut for the night, before you reached the seemingly only building in town with light and, admittedly subdued, noise streaming out of it: the pub. Apart from the city hall, you reckoned it must be the oldest building around, but also by far the one in best repair. The wooden sign above the heavy green door was, unsurprisingly, in the shape of a very sinister looking gull and it swayed in the wind with an ominous creak that made a shiver run down your spine, as if trying to dissuade you from entering.

Well, it wasn’t very likely that you would get any information elsewhere. With determination in your steps, you walked the last few cobbled steps to the door and went inside.

Your eyes quickly scanned the room, the patrons, the energies... and you froze on the threshold.

On a stool by the bar sat the very man you had hoped to avoid. He had taken off his signature trench coat and his back was towards you, but it didn't matter; you would recognise him blindfolded. He was so thoroughly cloaked and shrouded in magical protections of all sorts that the space he occupied was practically a vacuum. It was damn near impossible to locate him by magic, you knew. If one weren't looking directly at him, like you were now, no sixth sense or intricate spell would reveal his whereabouts. But his was a vacuum you had come to know very well. So well in fact, that by now you could pin him down by his apparent lack of magic, rather than by his well-hidden magical signature, and yet, there he was, sitting only half a room away from you with a drink in one hand and one of his ghastly Silk Cuts resting between the fingers of the other. And you hadn't noticed. You hadn't even done a quick scan to see if there were other magical presences on the island when you arrived. Worse, you hadn't cloaked yourself as thoroughly as you normally would have done and your own signature reached him before you could even think to try and prevent it.

From the way he straightened his back and immediately snuffed out the cigarette in an ashtray as if someone had shouted at him to show some care, you could tell he knew you were there. He shifted ever so slightly as if making room for you and you sighed. There was no getting out of this one.

Getting rid of your raincoat, you went over and crawled onto the empty stool next to him.

You were met with that wicked smirk of his that made your heart stutter and stumble in your chest.

"Now, there's a pleasant surprise to brighten this hellhole," he greeted, raising his glass at you. "Must confess, I never guessed I'd be running into you on this godforsaken rock, luv."

"Hello John." You did with a nod, trying to keep your voice even. "Can't say I expected this to be your sort of retreat either."

The warm light in the pub shone in John Constantine's dark eyes and his smirk grew into a grin.

"It's good to see you, luv. I've missed that disapproving pout o' yours. The fact that I never know when I'll see it again makes it so much sweeter."

You rolled your eyes at him, but didn't attempt to hide your burning cheeks. The bastard couldn’t possibly know exactly how brightly your torch for him was burning, but he always acted accordingly.

"So, what are you doing here then? Odd place for playing tourist, innit?"

He leaned on the counter, his hand moving closer to where yours was resting and there was that little, dark gleam of hope in his eyes that always appeared when he looked at you. As if there was somehow some other reasonable purpose you could have to be in a place like this, at a time like this.

You shrugged, biting down a smile.

"I find the climate rather agreeable."

John threw his head back and laughed at that. Even the barkeep, who had overheard your words, snorted. You caught his gaze before he turned back around and ordered a sparkling water.

"Right. And I just happened by to see the sights, eh?"

"Well, what do you think of them then?"

You raised an eyebrow at him and took a sip of the fizzy water the barkeep placed in front of you. John grinned and gave you an obvious once-over. Your dirty boots and high-neck jumper didn't seem to put him off.

"Much improved since this morning. At this rate, I can't wait to see how they'll look in the night."

"Oh, I ought to slap that smirk off your smug face, wizard," you sighed, feeling how your stomach was practically fluttering at his suggestive tone.

"Is that a promise, luv?"

"You're insufferable."

"Aye, that I am, luv, but you keep coming back for more. Must be doing something right, eh?"

You bit your lip and looked down; he suddenly felt too close. And the general level of noise inside the pub from people chattering wasn't as high as you had hoped. It would be easy for others to overhear anything you said. Given the island-wide unrest over the murder, you were sure ears were perked more than usual and you didn't want to draw any attention to yourself, or John. You would have to gather more information some other way.

"I missed you, too," you confessed, staring at the bottles lining the wall behind the bar as if they were all of a sudden exceedingly interesting. "But I... I thought you were helping out a certain green vigilante overseas these days."

John visibly tensed up.

"Who told you that?"

You shrugged, still not looking directly at him. The truth was that he couldn't really hide from you, not even in your current state. If he found out though, you didn't doubt for a second that his heated flirting would be switched for a literal knife in the back before you could even think the word "portal". Well, perhaps not literal, but you had no doubt the outcome would be fatal for you anyway.

"Who told you to come here?," you countered, raising an eyebrow and John scoffed.

"If you must know, I got a call from an old friend. Looks like she's been scrying on her own and this little spit of land kept drawing all her energy. Didn't seem like something I could ignore."

"You should've," you mumbled, taking a large slurp of your water and doing your best to ignore the persistent little spark of envy starting to gnaw away at you at his choice of words. What old friend? It had to be someone he had slept with, it always was with him. Why couldn't you just not care? "Take my advice, John, leave. Go home and lay low. I'll handle this island."

"Is that concern for old Johnny I hear, luv?," he asked with mock-surprise.

"Maybe. Don't let it get to your head, your ego won't be able to fit into that coat of yours."

He chuckled, but the tension was still there and you didn't know how to break it without giving him the truth, or at least something close.

"Your turn, pretty bird. I don't believe in coincidences like this, so tell me. How'd you know to come here?"

Lying to John Constantine was out of the question. As was being honest with him.

You chewed on your lip a bit, weighing your options. It wasn't like him to accept any kind of help unless he was downright desperate and that was still a long way off. If you challenged him though, he was most likely to flee, that much you knew. But you didn't want to get on his bad side unless you had absolutely no other choice.

"Leave," you repeated. "This one's out of your league, John. Let me take care of it, please."

The way your eyes were pleading with him made him frown and you realised you might have shown too much of your hand.

"I'm not going anywhere, luv." His hand was on top of yours on the bar before you could move it. To anyone looking, it seemed like an affectionate gesture, but he was effectively pinning you in place. "Not until you give me a bloody good reason not to give you the same treatment as whatever beast it is we're dealing with on this island."

"Let go of me."

Your voice wasn't very loud, but you knew he could hear you. He answered by pressing down harder on your hand and you winced.

"Why is it so hard for you to believe I just want to keep you safe?," you all but hissed at him, emptying your drink with a sour expression.

"Oh, I trust you just about as far as I can throw you, luv. Every time I see your pretty little face it means there's trouble brewing just around the corner."

"I saved your life in Tennessee. And in Derry," you tried, but his hold didn't loosen. If anything, John was now gripping your hand so hard no blood could possibly flow to your fingers. "I am trying to do your stubborn Scouse arse a bloody favour, why can't you just for once in your damn life listen to me?"

"Tell me your name then and maybe I will."

Fuck. Somehow it always came down to that.

"Xanadu," you snapped through gritted teeth, eyeing John with what you hoped was an appropriate amount of ire. "Xanadu contacted me and told me about this place. Happy? Obviously, she wasn't going to tell you now, was she?"

John withdrew his hand from you as though you'd burned him. It felt about as pleasant as a punch to the teeth, but you tried not to let it show on your face.

"I suppose you're right...," he admitted. "What did she tell you then? Her usual cryptic nonsense I reckon?"

"For someone in your line of work, you're not at all keen on prophecy reading, are you?," you sighed, forcing a bit of humour into your words.

There was no love lost between John Constantine and Madame Xanadu, that much had been clear to you from the beginning. But even though she couldn't stand the sight of him, she believed John was instrumental in keeping the world safe and had begrudgingly agreed to help you protect him when she could.

"Not really my style. I prefer things more tangible, to the point. Besides, I don't need to worry about divination when I have you."

"You rarely do."

"Not by my choice, luv."

Your eyes flickered back to the empty glass in front of you and you had to take a very slow breath to try and steady yourself. His effect on you was too strong for you to be safe around him. Your job required a clear head - for both your sakes.

"A restless darkness will carry its evil across the water to be unleashed upon the twice-named rocks," you recited, steeling your voice as you averted his unspoken question the way you always did. "It wasn't that cryptic at all for once."

He didn't need to hear the other part. You could feel his eyes roaming your face, trying to figure you out, looking for something without fully knowing what. It was at times like these you missed your wings. Keeping secrets in a human body full of emotions and urges and reactions beyond your immediate control was frustrating at best. It was another reason you were better off keeping your distance.

After a while of searching your features, John sighed and gave up.

"Alright. So it's probably some kind of malevolent spirit then, wreaking havoc. Don't see why you're so worried luv, sounds like any other Tuesday to me."

The barkeep was close enough for you to signal for a refill to you both. He grunted something unintelligible, obviously not too keen on all the Brits suddenly hanging out in his pub. You made sure to send him a grateful smile as he filled your glasses, yours with sparkling water, John's with whisky.

"My weeks are all Mondays," you said and raised the glass to your lips; just as you had hoped, John did the same. "Did you get here in time to see the body?"

"Only after they moved it. Wasn't pretty..." He took another swig while staring at the wall with a distant glaze clouding his eyes that told you he wasn't seeing the wall at all. "Pathologist told me the man had been alive when 'is head was severed. The, er... the inscriptions..." John looked just as sickly green as the constable had done and very gently you put your hand on his shoulder. A small gesture of reassurance. "I'm tired," he whispered suddenly. He turned his head to look at you and your heart ached when you realised how glassy his eyes had become. "I am just so bloody tired. Demons, vampires, curses, spirits, the lot. No matter where I go, there're always more and people die, it never stops. Innocent people, good people... I just want a fucking break, but if I don't stop the darkness from spreading, who will?"

His voice was thin and on the verge of breaking entirely. You wanted nothing more than to lean forwards on the stool and put your arms around him, somehow make him know he wasn't alone, but the risk was too great. You were in too deep already.

"Sometimes I wonder whether it's all worth it..."

"Of course it's worth it, John," you said quietly, clenching his shoulder. "We do what we have to so they...," you gestured discreetly towards the patrons, ”they can go on living their lives and not... not know and see the things we do..."

"I know, luv, I know. I just... I want..." The gloom that was always lurking just below the surface of his existence was spilling into his eyes. He was weary to the bone, deep into his very soul. For a moment, you thought he was going to let the tears burst. "I risk my life every day and it's never bloody enough, is it? A man got his head carved off by some wretched spirit who should have been resting in peace. Fuckin’ Hell..."

He rubbed his eyes hard and you decided then what to do. You didn't like it one bit, but seeing John this worn down, well, you liked that even less. It meant you had been sleeping on the job.

As subtly as you could, you put your hand in your pocket and found the tiny zip-bag with a pinch of purple powder in it. It wasn't something you used often and it had never been meant for John, but you couldn't in good conscience let him go after a rogue spirit in his current state. While he emptied his glass again, you drizzled the powder into your hand and braced yourself.

"John, look at me. It's going to be alright. You are John Constantine and without you this world would have ended twelve times in the last decade, maybe more. And right now you are going to save this island, because that is what you do. So get off your sulking arse and stop feeling sorry for yourself. We have a job here. You're going to find that spirit and put it out of its misery before it hurts someone else, got it?"

He huffed, but even so raised his head and managed a small grateful smile at the reprimand.

"Yes. You're right. Thank you, luv. You always know what to say..." His eyes darted to your lips and for half a heartbeat, you did nothing, just sat there and waited for him to lean in the rest of the way and kiss you. It was far from the first time it had happened, but you still felt at war with yourself. There wasn't a single atom left in you anymore that didn't crave his affection. He was drunk and emotional and between the way he looked at you and the way there suddenly seemed to be less and less space separating your bodies, there was no doubt about his intention. It would be so easy just to finally give in and let it happen.

"Don't thank me."

Before he could lean back or ask you what you meant, you blew the purple powder straight into his face.

His eyes widened in shock, but his body immediately began to turn relaxed and pliant.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me...," he mumbled, but his gaze was already unfocused.

"I'm so sorry, John," you whispered, gently guiding his torso onto the bar.

He tried to say something more, but his words were slurred and within a few seconds, he was gone.

You had gotten the sleeping powder from a dealer in New Orleans, who had told you the effects would last at least four hours. They always oversold their stuff, but hopefully John would be out long enough for you to deal with the entire affair if you hurried up and took a few shortcuts. It was a messy solution, but then again, you hadn't planned on him being here. Desperate times and all that.

"He gonna be lying there all night?," the barkeep grumbled with a raised eyebrow at John when you hopped down from your stool. You put on the best smile you could manage under the circumstances and slid 50 quid across the counter.

"He'll come ‘round soon enough. If not, I'll be back for him in a few."

You practically fled the pub before he could ask you any more questions.

The road outside was deserted and you hoped no one was watching as you marched to the lonely phone box you had spotted earlier. It didn't look like anyone had used it in several years, but when you picked up the receiver the dial tone was there alright.

You took out a stained, battered playing card from the depths of one of your pockets (the seven of diamonds) and slid it into the credit card slot. You didn't own a mobile phone and neither did most of your acquaintances, but still you had memorised the few numbers you occasionally needed.

"Hey Chas, it's me," you said when the answering machine finally picked up. "I'm at the island with John and I haven't got much time. I don’t want to get John involved in this so I need to work fast. There's no need to worry, really, I've got it under control, but... just in case something unforeseen happens, uhm... if I don't call back in let's say ten hours, will you let John know where to find my body? He can't track me in his usual ways, so he'll need your help."

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. What you were about to do was risky, maybe even reckless.

"I'm going to the beach where they found the dead man and work my way from there. If... if I don't succeed..." It was as if your throat was suddenly full of gravel. "Chas, please, just make sure John isn't the one to take on that spirit. He is not ready for that." Too late, you held the receiver away from your face while you tried to suppress a sniffle. So much for convincing Chas Chandler that you had things under control. Forcing your voice to even out, you continued. "I have to go. Just help him if I can’t, okay? And don’t worry too much. I’ll probably see you in a couple of days.”

Before you could say anything even more stupid, you hung up and slid your helpful seven of diamonds back into your coat. Handy little thing to have on you.

You left the phone box in the last light of day and made your way down to the beach. It took you twenty minutes to reach the cove and less than one to sneak under the police tape unseen. There were just two constables standing guard at the scene and they only looked when you wanted them to. For an active crime scene, the site was unusually quiet, but you attributed your luck to the dusk that made searching for clues almost impossible.

Of course, that went for you as well, you thought sourly as you carefully stepped around the little plastic numbers the police forensics had put up all over the little stretch of beach. You could make out the bloody piece of driftwood and the large dark spatter running down the stones where the corpse had lain, but nothing smaller than those. Even if the place was rather secluded, you didn’t dare light a torch with the uniforms standing idly guard so close by.

Sighing, you closed your eyes and concentrated.

The place was tingling with dark energy and it became clearer the more you felt around, using your own magic.

A spirit, just like you had anticipated. A lost soul preying on the living for… revenge? Yes, the bloody traces sang with the mad desire for vengeance that so often kept the dead from their rest.

Bloodshed, the thirst temporarily quenched. Then what?

The movements of the spirit became blurry after that no matter how hard you tried to focus. The leftover energy had been disturbed and mixed with the signatures of all the people who had been to the crime scene since the discovery of the body and it was impossible to make out without assistance, even for someone as experienced as you.

If you couldn’t locate the soul, you couldn’t send it packing.

Luring it via séance required more people and it was too risky for everyone involved anyway. Without its name, summoning it was out of the question as well.

You groaned when you realised what you had to do.

Making sure for the last time you couldn’t be seen from the line of police tape above you, you took off your backpack and dark raincoat and shoved both of them under the nearest rock. Next, you loosened your boots and sat them next to the backpack, then your thick scarf and woollen jumper. With short, angry movements, you rolled your trousers down and folded them hastily, ripped off your socks and wriggled out of your top.

“You’re so bloody lucky I love you, John,” you mumbled through clenched teeth that were starting to rattle in your skull. With fingers already numb from the cold, you unclasped your bra and slid down your underwear before you could change your mind, and with a deep breath, you stepped into the waves.

Even before you went into the sea, your body had been covered in goosebumps from the chilly October air, but the surfs rising around your legs now made you heave for breath with every step forward. The rocks under your feet were dull compared to the sharpness of the water. When it reached you mid-thigh you had to stop and wait for the pain to subside enough so that you could get further out. You were too close to the beach and the water was still too shallow for your purpose.

A tangle of seaweed drifted past your ankle, or at least you hoped it was just seaweed. It was hard to tell for sure in the dark.

Your submerged muscles were screaming as you forced yourself out until the water reached your ribs. If only that wretched spirit hadn’t chosen the middle of the bleeding autumn to throw its tantrum.

“Sacred Nanuet, your humble servant speaks to you,” you intoned through gritted teeth and held out your hands on either side of you so the gentle waves touched the palms of your hands. “She beseeches you; allow her the honour of sharing in your wisdom. Blessed goddess, lend her your sight and expand her understanding, your humble servant begs of you, great Nanuet…”

The ancient language you muttered your request in felt strange on your tongue as always, but your flattery worked. You could feel the magic start to sing under your hands and so you took a deep breath and lowered yourself completely into the sea.

The stranglehold of the freezing water somehow got pushed into the background of your conscience and within a beat of your heart your mind was alight with images. Through the water, you could see most of the world, but you focused on Raven’s Rock and the little beach behind you. The water had seen it all. From the depths of the ocean, it rolled onto the sand and sneaked its way under the island’s rocks, seeped into the soil and was drunk by the hungry roots of The Green, stretching into the light above ground…

It wasn’t long before you managed to zero in on the exact event you needed. The Sight of Nanuet allowed your mind to access the memory of the watery abyss, which included as good as all water on Earth and not a lot of people mastered navigating it anymore. You had been forced to use a lot of wordly magic since you lost your wings and so had learned to find what you needed relatively easy.

Through the Sight, you saw the murder of the man on the beach, how the spirit severed his head and lapped at the blood before turning away from the scene. It lost some of its shape then, but through the dewy grass above the cove and the moist air, you managed to follow it away from the beach and across the land.

The spirit held its physical form, or at least the overall contours of it, and it made it easier to trail. From what you could tell, it definitely had been human when it had been alive. Poor thing. If only it hadn’t gone and murdered someone, maybe you could have sent it to rest.

But would you even be there if it hadn’t?

When the spirit finally settled, you had followed it to an old, abandoned stone house with no windows and a door rotting away on the hinges. The place must have been a farm. There were several small outhouses scattered around the main building and indents in the earth marking former animal pens. The roof had been a thatched one, but now it was more moss than straw and what still remained beneath the heavy green patches had long since turned mouldy and dark. A few shards of glass jutted from some of the window frames like crude, predatory teeth waiting to chew up whoever was unfortunate or foolish enough to get close.

You went after the spirit through the remnants of the front door.

A voice in the back of your head told you it was enough, you should get out of the house and the Sight and the water. You had what you needed for now.

But the way the spirit slumped through the dark rooms and up a ramshackle staircase, as if it had done it a hundred times before, as if it belonged there in that house, intrigued you. It didn't match your original theory, the reason you didn't want John involved.

Curiosity piqued, you followed the lonely ghost up the stairs, where it turned left and went into a room with what had been two alcoves in the wall but were now mostly caved in. The room didn't have any windows and it was hard to make out the details, but the flimsy shape of the spirit trudged towards one of the beds and with motions as if the bedding had still been intact, it lay down and pulled the memory of a blanket over itself.

You slowly got closer, unsure of what to do. The visible shape of the ghost was gone now that it was no longer in motion and the general gloom of the empty house made it near impossible for you to see anything clearly. But the person the ghost had been once seemed so at home here. You couldn't feel any hostility from it at all, not even a trace. Only peace, comfort. Quiet.

This had been its home once when it had lived, you were almost certain of it.

But the desolate little stone house, out of the way even for the island's standard, must have stood abandoned for several decades, maybe even a century or two. If the ghost had lived here it was much older than you had initially thought.

Which meant you might have knocked John out for nothing.

Fuck.

You had to find out more and fast, but it was unlikely the memory of the house before your closed eyes would yield anything further. Even if it was dark and late in the evening, you would have to go there physically. The chances of finding something would be higher, and besides, you couldn't stay in the water forever. You were almost human, after all.

The thought had barely crossed your mind before the reflex to breathe kicked in and you could feel the freezing seawater rush down your throat. One inhale was all it took for your lungs to feel heavy as a pair of burning bricks. A fleeting realisation, that drowning was one of the most unpleasant sensations you’d had the misfortune of experiencing since losing your wings, faintly made it to the front of your perception before the back of your head hit the sand on the ocean floor. Then the only thing you could focus on was the pressure of the water and the way your body grew ever more numb…

The room still flickered before your eyes, slowly losing definition as you lost consciousness. Strange, you mused with your last bit of coherence, that an angel from Heaven should die looking up at it from so far below, in the cold embrace of the sea. It wasn't even painful anymore, the water, but oddly comforting, lulling you to rest, holding you tight.

The only regret you had was leaving John…

The last thing you saw before your eyes fell shut was his face above yours and a faint smile moved your lips. How very considerate of your mind to conjure up his image as the last thing you would ever see.

You could feel his arms around you even, fingers digging into your skin, his body pressed down against your own…

“Bloody fucking Hell, let her go!” The words didn’t make sense to you and they sounded so awfully far away. “She isn’t yours, you stupid paegan relic, let go of her! Let go!”

But you were, you were letting go, there was nothing more you could do.

“Christ, luv, which heathen tosspot did you enlist to drown you?! Yam, Ægir? Tiamat? Nanuet? Nanuet, isn’t it?” At the invocation of her name, you could feel the ancient goddess slacken her hold on you, as if in surprise, and you vaguely realised that the embrace you felt didn’t belong to her or the water, but to John. “Oh, you always were a fickle tart. Let go of this servant or so help me God, I, John Constantine, will destroy you and every last shrine still bearing your blasted name! Let her go!”

With a cry you weren’t sure was even coming from you, your face broke the surface of the waves. You violently coughed up seawater and if it weren’t for John’s arms, you would have fallen right back down into the deep. Your head was spinning. The numbness gave way to a cold so freezing you might as well have been rolling in needles. Everything hurt. Your legs felt unsteady, no, your entire body felt as if someone had replaced your bones with straw and your muscles with jelly.

“J-John…,” you coughed, but he shushed you, keeping you close to him in the water.

“I know, luv, it’s a bloody miracle you aren’t dead, you’re welcome for that. Now let’s get you out of the water, yeah?”

He was really there, drenched in the North Sea in the middle of October at what might as well have been the edge of the Earth, just to save you from drowning. His white shirt and black trousers clung to his frame like film and from what you could make out in the light from the moon, he was shuddering from the cold, too. You had never wanted to kiss him so badly before.

“I c-can’t m-m-move,” you got out through teeth rattling painfully in your skull, suddenly all too aware of your proximity and your own state of undress. As much as you wanted to cling to him for warmth, for closeness, the logical part of your muddled brain was screaming at you to keep your distance. That was what you did, wasn’t it?

“‘Course you can’t. How long were you under for, anyway? Completely off your rocker summoning a paegan goddess alone at night in the middle of the bloody ocean! What were you thinking?”

“I-I saw the g-ghost,” you weakly tried stammering through your clattering teeth. “Saw h-how it killed-ungh!”

You let out a groan as John swiftly picked you up and started carrying you towards shore. Your severely tested heart felt as though it might give out entirely. Never had you been reckless enough to let him touch you like this before, to let him hold you, as if you were a lover who would readily indulge in such intimacy. If it weren’t for the fact that you were very likely about to freeze to death, your cheeks would have been on fire. Every inch of your skin would have been scorching.

As it were, you were too cold and too exhausted for your body to produce that kind of heat. Surrendering to the fatigue in your bones, you allowed your head to rest against him and closed your eyes. He could carry you to shore or to Hell on his hands. You weren’t going to argue. For the first time in all your human life, you completely let your guard down.

#john constantine x reader #constantine x reader #john constantine #constantine #john constantine fanfiction #hellblazer #vertigo hellblazer #nbc constantine #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #dc x reader #dc x you #john constantine x you

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seascrapes · 3 years

Text

[ URL Playlist - SeaScrapes ]

[ Create a playlist that encompasses your muse using only the letters of your url (multi-muse — specify which muse(s) each song makes you think of). Repost, do not reblog ]

Same Oul’ Town - The Saw Doctors The bell still tolls, I heard it there For the final journey, up to the square

Echo - Trapt Close my eyes, let the whole thing pass me by There is no time to waste asking why

Any Other Day - Bon Jovi On any other day, I might just stay in bed Sit down in a sea of blankets, pull them up over my head

𝄞

Seeing Angels - John Butler Trio Why do I deserve such a visit, from the one I thought I'd never meet Beyond my greatest expectations, you exceeded everything

City of Devils - Yellowcard Find somebody to learn, boy you gotta love someone more than yourself I can feel the fire of the city lights burn, It's hard to find angels in hell

Rändajad - Ubran Symphony They wander from one day to the next, they wander from one time to the next It weaves an invisible path, it waits until you are ready to take the risk

All The Right Moves - OneRepublic They got all the right friends in all the right places So yeah, we're goin' down

Pale - Within Temptation I have to fight, 'cause I know in the end it's worthwhile That the pain that I feel slowly fades away, it will be alright

Ever After - Marianas Trench Once upon a time, I used to romanticize Used to be somebody, never mind, don't miss it that much now

Something To Die For - Caroline Liar Peel me off the hook, that's something to die for Heal me, help me see what the hell did I lie for?

Other Music Lists: x | x | x | x | x

Tagged By: @finnigan-seahart

#I had to get at least one Bon Jovi song in there since they are my absolute favourite #FF!Tal #video/music #Muse Related Questions #thanks for the tag/mention/reblog for me #FFXIV #homemade

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hhoriginalworks · 3 years

Text

here's to luck | g.w

"Merlin, George, how are you not shaking?" You breathed, your hands still unsteady from watching Harry just nearly survive the first task. "I can't believe they're going to make us sit through two more of these. I swear, if I have to watch either Cedric or Harry get drowned, I'll petition against this tournament."

George just chuckled, pulling you into his side. "Oh, y/n, always the worrier. Although I see why you're worried for Cedric- he's just a handsome bloke with a teeny-tiny brain."

"Oh, shove off it, Georgie," you chuckled, walking alongside him, feeling giddy. "We both know you're just upset that he beat you fair and square last year."

"Yeah, sure, let's call that 'fair.'"

"Aww, George, I didn't mean to spoil your mood, especially since I heard Gryffindor is throwing a party to celebrate Harry," you joked, reaching up to ruffle the tall ginger's hair. "Though, I imagine you'll have to party some without me."

"What why?" George suddenly stopped, pulling you to the of the main path back to Hogwarts. "You aren’t seriously going to the Hufflepuff party, are you?"

"No," you drawled out, attempting you pull George back onto the path. "Remember how you stopped me from finishing my charms homework last night, and the night before that, and the night before the night before?"

"I don't reckon that sounds familiar," George hummed in response, feigning innocence. "Although, I imagine if I did, I had a good reason. Like, perhaps, I can't sleep as well without you, my best-est friend besides Fred, by my side."

"Oh, how lucky for you that your ‘best-est friend besides Fred’ doesn't snore," you laughed, playfully nudging him with your arm. "Might I attempt to imitate you? 'UGGGGGGGG.'"

"Sod off, y/n, you love me," George chuckled, slowing getting back on the path with you. "Now back to business- one shot of firewhiskey?"

"No," you quipped, sticking your tongue at the pouting redhead. "We both know that one shot actually means three, which in turn, lands me hungover in bed with you and my charms homework still undone."

George let out a grin as you spoke, walking in front of you to slow you down. "Harry lives through the first task, and you don't even want to celebrate a little bit? You can't honestly look me in the eyes and say that firewhiskey and a party in the Gryffindor Common Room aren't a little tempting," George coaxed, turning around, so he was walking backward.

"Oh, it sounds more than tempting, but, as I said, Georgie, I have charms homework to do. Not all of us can fall back on good looks and impeccable business skills," you commented, ignoring how George's face fell. Ordinarily, you would have already agreed to your second drink at this point, but you were determined not to give in to George's brown eyes and saccharine smile. "Now, George, stop slowly leading me towards the Gryffindor tower. You know that if I go in, I won't want to come out."

"You're a genius? Did you know that? I mean, you're so bloody brilliant that you solved my ingenious and slightly diabolic plan. Which, might I add, is the reason that you can just not turn in this one charms homework," George attempted again, moving to walk beside you. "Tell me, love, how many drinks do you think it would take to get Lee to streak?"

"Um, fewer drinks than he would care to admit," you laughed, beginning to part from George.

George quickly reached out- his slender fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you into his side. "But I can show you how to have a good time, y/n, and who knows, maybe we'll end up in a broom closet... again," George smirked, mumbling the words into your ear. "Tell me that doesn't sound like a perfect way to celebrate Gryffindor's own Triwizard Champion."

"You and me in a broom closet? Please, Weasley, only in your dreams," you scoffed, shaking your head at the redhead's cheeky words.

"My dreams? Sometimes, but it plays in my head more from memory," George mused, skillfully avoiding your attempted to swat the back of his head. "So, was that poor attempt at a swat as yes to letting me show you what a good time looks like?"

"I don't need you to show me how to have a good time. I was the one who taught you how to light your alcohol on fire and still be able to drink it." You could help but roll your eyes at George; he may not be the most responsible student around, but Merlin, was he persistent.

"Okay, fine, but I still need you," George pouted, a sly grin slowly finding its way onto his face. "Remember what happened last year after celebrating the O.W.Ls being over?"

You couldn't help but toss back your head onto his shoulder as you laughed about the incident that George swore he wouldn't ever bring up again. "I'm sorry, could you specify? I think my memory is a little fuzzy about the incident you're talking about."

"Haha, you're lucky I even mentioned it," George huffed, his face turning a light pink color. "In all seriousness, I need you to be with me, so we don't have a repeat of, well, you know."

"Oh, yes, I know. I seemed to have suddenly remembered when you and Fred got absolutely trashed and somehow thought it would be a good idea to race on Hippogriffs... butt-naked. But, Merlin, I seemed to have forgotten who had to pull your drunk asses into the greenhouse before McGonagall caught you," you teased, shooting George a wink. "Who was it again?"

"You," George muttered, looking around to make sure no one was listening.

"I can't hear you- perhaps I need to ask the question louder?"

"You, oh so lovely y/n, pulled me into the greenhouses and forced me into my pants," George mumbled louder, sticking his tongue out as you smiled at his response. "And I don't want a repeat of it tonight, so you should come with me."

"I don't know, Georgie. I think the blast-ended skrewts would love a bite out of you," you joked, pinching his arm. "Imagine they would love the taste of you."

"You would know," George snickered, earning a not-entirely playful smack on the arm. "Ow, you can't hit me for true facts!"

"Oops, I just did," you chimed innocently. "Now, George, please let me go study, and I promise to meet you in the Gryffindor common room afterward."

"Damn, I should've known you we're going to 'y/n out,'" George grumbled, his eyes widening once he realized what he had said out loud. "Hey, don't get angry, y/n. I swear there is a logical reason as to why you heard something come out of my mouth when I didn't actually say anything."

"What did you just say, carrot-head?" You hissed, narrowing your eyes at the Gryffindor.

"What, y/n? I didn't hear anything, did you, Lee?" George asked, grabbing Lee Jordan, who was passing by with Fred and Angelina. "Angelina, the smartest Gryffindor I know that also has flawless hearing, did you hear anything?"

"Oh, you are so in the doghouse," Angelina replied, shaking her head at George with pity. "I told you that if you kept saying it that one day you would slip up and say it to y/n's face."

"You turned my name into a verb? And, even worse, you've been doing it behind my back? "What is 'y/n out' even supposed to mean, huh? Is it supposed to mean being a responsible student? Come on, Georgie, I expected better from you," you scoffed, stepping away from George with a glare. "I guess you got what you wanted, Weasley. I'm no longer in the mood to do homework. No, I instead feel like yelling at you for the next hour."

"Now, y/n, we haven't heard Lee's opinion. Lee, the best announcer that Hogwarts has ever known-"

"Sorry, mate, but you got yourself into this one. I promise to save you drink once y/n's gotten a chance to yell at you," Lee chuckled, cutting George off. "Make him grovel, y/n, he deserves it."

"Oh, I will, Lee," you promised, waving the boy goodbye. "Oh, Georgie, how I look forward to seeing you charm your way out of this one."

"So, you think I'm charming?" George quipped.

"Very much so, which is why I think you should start with begging for my forgiveness," you offered. "Then, you can flatter me with comments, and finally, if you're forgiven, you can pour me a drink."

"Then, we make our way to the nearest broom closet?" George asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Only if you're really really lucky, Weasley. Now, come on, you have all night to make it up to me," you chuckled, wrapping your hand around his wrist and pulling him through the portrait entrance.

George quickly made his way over to the table of drink, pouring himself and you a plastic cup of what smelled like a butterbeer and firewhiskey concoction. "Well, here's to being really really lucky," George smirked, raising his cup and placing a kiss on your cheek.

#holyhead-hufflepuff archive

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danddymaro · 4 years

Text

Erron Black X Reader |Pt.3

Previous: A Familiar Sense

Thoughts are italics in quotations = ‘Example’

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

Fixed

Wordcount : 8111

Pt. 3 | The Big Bad Wolf

His dark, espresso-colored eyes lazily fell over the captive female, eyeing the silent, somber woman as she sat across him.

She was still bound and helpless, her face set blank as she slept, yet again escaping reality through her slumbering moments.

‘She’s out again,’ He thought to himself, emitting a low blow of air that flew up to the flat under-piece of his hat. By then he’d quickly caught on to her ingenious, little plan, taking it in with growing exasperation,

“ Nearnin' three days and not a bite,” he told himself before standing, rolling his shoulders with a low, little groan escaping him before he strode over to her.

He knew that if she kept up with her act, she’d starve before they made their way to their destination, something that would definitely reduce his pay, bringing the number down to zero if she so happened to perish while under his watch.

‘That has to be your plan...right?’ He mused while he stepped towards her slumped form, quickly reaching over to where she was, soon looming over her just as a shaken breath left her.

It was as though a cold gust of wind had violently struck her, but he knew her reaction had nothing to do with the weather.

It was still sunny out, the last bit of heat the day could provide slowly dying out, but not enough to bring anyone to such violent shivers.

‘Sunny... Well as sunny as it can get in this godforsaken place,’ He told himself, looking up to see the blinding brightness of Outworld’s star spread its last bit of light out to the realm before it retired.

'Pretty soon we'll see sundown,' He thought to himself, '...And I can't help but wonder...Just what are you're thinking of little miss...’ He wondered while bringing his eyes back down to his sleeping captive, his gaze instinctively drawn to her.

He’d formally wasted what felt like short minutes gazing at her, when in reality they were hours of silent entrancement.

It had occurred earlier too, soon after her messy outburst, following his discovery of her lovely orbs.

Even after he'd been cautious, moreso, unwilling to fall under any little spell she would have set for him, he still found himself entranced by her.

However, he reasoned that technically, it was part of his assignment.

So silently, he sat back and watched, interested in just what lay deep within the crevices of her mind, haunting her.

‘Just what does she see?’

He briefly wondered just what had her so shaken and helpless, however, the interest was easily overrun by the annoyance he felt at the small act of rebellion, because all it did was make his job harder.

- All it did was threaten his pay, and that was what it was all about.

The pay.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“- Not a scratch on her,” The masked man said with an icy undertone present in his already curt way of speaking. “Do you hear me?” He pressed on.

With rolling eyes, Black agreed, not needing to be told twice about the done deal, because by then, it’d become almost insulting.

"- Got it." He replied back nonetheless, his tone calmed as he wiled out all of his annoyance from the short response.

“That is the only rule I have; that you bring her to me in one piece.” The cloaked male added while handing the brunette a sack of golden coins along with many other little treasures in the bag, none of which could outweigh the value of the woman within the mysterious man’s sharp eyes.

“Here. This is only a small portion of what is to come,” His new employer said with a nod full of certainty, promising so much more in exchange for the job.

“Riches await you, So long as you complete your task.” He added while he blew out a little huff of amusement, well aware of who he spoke to, having personally asked for him, because until then Erron Black hadn't had a single blunder to his name.

He knew the language the native Earthrealmer spoke, aware that so long as there was profit, there was a way to convince him.

And that was just who he needed,

- A man willing to spare no expense if it meant success.

Holding the bag within his own hand, Erron stared down at the handsome pay with widely peeled dark orbs, struck by a small stun of disbelief,

“You mean to tell me there’s more than this?” He asked with a small chuckle, tickled by the high pay he started off with, weighing the contents with his outstretched hand.

‘All this for a woman,’ Black thought while shaking his head, amused at how much the man before him was willing to pour into his hands just to have the female delivered to him.

Black was of course, a man; one who’d lived a long life.

During all his time living, he’d become aware of just how much a single woman could reign over a fool, but even then he was still in awe at the situation he was in.

But who was he to complain?

‘I’d be a bigger fool to let you take your business elsewhere,’ He thought while he chose to stay silent, swallowing down his own opinions.

“There is plenty more, but remember Erron Black, your pay will depend on the state you deliver her to me.

Take care of her throughout your travel, and make certain she is steered from danger,” He specified while he lifted his chin up, aiming to the sky as he gazed at it.

Simultaneously, while his sight properly aligned up to the heavy clouds, the sky above them roared with a mighty cry, the vicious sound echoing for miles to where the man hoped it'd reach his darling beauty.

'Hear the sky cry out; be aware of my existence as I am yours,' He thought to himself.

“Do whatever it takes, and do not fail me,” he then went on, his already dark eyes dimmed, “ And If you have to get rid of anyone that blocks your path, then do so,” He added, caring of only the end goal.

All he cared about was having (f/n) with him.

“Soon... Soon the spring will be invaded by the rain, and they will exist as they should. " he declared.

" Together, as one.” He added softly, the mask which hid his face not only hiding his identity, but the small smile that played at his lips as well.

The expression was touched by a linger of sweetness that then reached his eyes, infecting every bit of his being.

“My dear goddess… soon she will be within my arms,” He mused aloud, the change in tone apparent.

“Only you are worthy…” He added lowly, still referring to the woman and all her splendor.

“- Very well,” Black murmured while taking hold of the brim of his hat, lightly tipping it as he performed a single nod, a hidden smirk curling his lips as he agreed with the condition, taking in all of the other man’s odd behavior with astounded amusement that had yet to cease.

‘All this… All this for a woman,’ Erron thought to himself while he was also handed a scroll that gave him all of the information available.

‘It’s easy pay,’ He mused while his dark eyes scanned over the illustration of the woman, making sure to remember it down to the last detail.

With his small, personal booklet in hand, he recorded down every bit of information he had of her, including her location.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the precise location, but it narrowed down the search considerably.

‘ (F/n)’ He thought to himself while he scribbled the name onto the once blank page,‘ That’s your name little missy..,’ He thought to himself while he found himself staring down at the dark ink delicately painted onto the paper in hand.

“I’ll get back to you soon,” Black said before he whistled loudly, the call responded to by his snow-haired steed as it approached the two men with an assertive bray, letting his master know he was at his disposition.

“Good boy,” Erron said while his palm fell over the side of its long, strong neck before easily mounting the creature with a leap up,

“ And don’t worry, I’ll be back soon,” He repeated while taking the reins of the saddle, turning to his employer with a wide grin, “ Very soon...with your goddess,” he added with a tickle of amusement, shaking his head at the praising address.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey...You,” Erron said while lightly tapping the side of his boot onto her leg, repeatedly doing so until the action caused her to stir, the (h/c) haired young woman seemingly bothered by the disturbance, but not enough to immediately wake.

Instead, A fussy, little groan then fell past her, the small sound rousing a grin from him as he detected the annoyance weaved within it,

“Rise and shine Darlin',’' He said while nudging her again.

Her dark lashes slowly fluttered up as she opened her (e/c) colored orbs. Soon, her glazed eyes slowly found his as she looked up to see who woke her, a little pout then performed right as her sights landed on him.

“-Glad you’re awake,” He said flatly, eyeing her shining (e/c) colored eyes for just a moment before his own strayed, falling down to what he had in hand instead.

“I’ve noticed a certain someone hasn’t been eating,” he started, “so... here," he said while shoving the piece of meat over to her, immediately glaring at her as she turned her head, her lips pursed together as she showed her notable disdain, not even wanting to give any consideration to the offer.

‘After being kidnapped by him…

Tied up so uncomfortably...

Forced to be so close to him…On that damn saddle too!’

She thought with a little huff, the muscles in between her legs involuntarily squeezing, causing the soreness that previously settled onto her to become more prominent.

‘After seeing only just part of who you truly are… I wouldn’t dare take anything from you,’ She thought with hard resolve.

‘Because despite what you think…

Despite what you may find amusing…

I’ll make sure to find my freedom.

I’ll make sure that even if I don't get to escape… I’ll ruin every bit of satisfaction you can get from delivering me!’

There wasn’t anything she could do while being tied up, and she despised the fact.

‘I hate you! I really hate you!’ She repeated while yet again her muscles strained, ‘And I don’t want to get on that horse again!’ She added while biting her inner cheek, not thinking she'd ever get used to it.

They’d spent nearly two days on foot, and in her opinion, it was much better than the other form of transportation.

‘I’d rather walk,’ She thought with a low blow of breath being released, deciding that it was much better than the humiliation he put her through during the first time.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“There you go!” he mused, watching her glare at him as he perfectly sat her on his horse’s back, having let loose of the binds on her legs to do so, but not giving the same treatment to the ones binding her hands together.

He played it safe by altering the position of her arms, tying her wrists up in front rather than back for the ride.

“Come on, lighten up doll,” He told her, reaching up to give her thigh encouraging little pats, the little contact causing her to jump at the first tap.

“It’s much better than walking,” He assured her, knowing she was already dog tired.

Soon after, an actual shiver then ran through her as he mounted the creature himself, sitting right behind her, his arms draped over her bound ones to take the reins.

“Don’t wanna chew gravel, right?” He asked her, his strong arms at each side of her, holding her still,

“- So just stay still...no squirmin," He advised her.

Momentarily, her eyes fell down to the dirt ground, swallowing hard as she realized that if she did struggle against him, she’d only end up hurt.

‘He's right...I’m so high off the ground…’ She thought while hanging her head, her chin aimed to her chest with hopelessness.

Anxiously, she tried to squeeze herself tiny, not wanting any contact with him. Little by little, she tried to inch forward, her torso leaned ahead to try an attempt at even the slightest bit of distance, failing altogether as he took the opportunity to press his chest to her back each and every time, knowingly irking her.

‘I don’t want to be pressed to you,’ She inwardly cried, straightening her back from the uncomfortable slouch she had set it at.

‘The very idea disgusts me…’ She added while the warmth of his body was shared with her via the contact.

‘And the action itself...’ She went on, trailing off while her stomach churned, her heart set into anxious mode as she slowly caved.

By then the air began to mellow down and grow colder, the woman begrudgingly appreciating the comfort of his heat whilst the wind began to pick up, and the sky began to darken furthermore.

She tried to not think much of it, wanting to put every bit of memory she had of him down a deep, dark abyss to never think of him again, but finding it nearly impossible.

‘I detest this more than anything in the world…’ She thought while her vision began to blur, her stiff shoulders falling as she was lulled to sleep, the slow, careful beating of his heart which bounced off his chest and melted with hers providing a strange sense of comfort that overwhelmed her.

The rest of the travel was silent, save for the occasional soft hums he released out of sheer boredom, something that was normal during his travels.

What he did find surprising was that throughout the ride, she'd let out not a peep.

'I guess they're not all bad then,' He told himself, beginning to think that perhaps she had a nice dream every now and then.

' Or don't tell me…. ' he then thought while grinning, a stupid little thought coming to him and livening him up,

'Darlin'...have you taken a liking to me already?' He mused with a powerful grin, the thought so far stretched, it was almost comical.

'The second you realize what you're doing… I know it'll give you all the more reason to want to kill me,' he went on, by then having the sleeping woman leaned back to him, for the most part, cradled by him as he made sure she was safely secured within his grasp.

"And here I thought you hated me," he said whilst he came down to her little ear, certain that it'd be an action that would bring her back to reality.

-And he was right on the money because not a second after she stirred.

She had awoke to the sound of warm chuckles and what was the unmistakable touch of gloved hands grazing her forearms with slow strokes.

Groggily, she answered back, emitting a soft groan in response that was preceded by yet another sound of amusement by him,

“I see...” She heard the awful man speak, “Taken a liking to me already sweetheart?” He asked her, her tingling spine shooting up stiffly straight as over the course of her entire body, cold shudders raked her.

The events afterward happened in a blur, perhaps because she tried hard to forget it, that, or her mind was so frazzled by him that she could barely focus.

It was all fuzzy to her, but through it all, she could hear him chuckle, the deep, warm sound twisting her already knotted stomach as she tried to sleep yet again, attempting to ignore him after he had the nerve to sit her back down and tie her up again, moving her around like a little sack of potatoes.

‘ Just one,' she decided with certainty, biting her lip, convincing herself that she just needed the chance, whatever slim it may be, to slip away.

‘ And then I can go back home.

I can make my way back…

And I can wait for you there,’ she thought while for just a moment her mind drifted back to the hazy vision of the woman.

‘ I’ll wait for you there,’ she said again, ‘ because I know deep in my heart that you'll make your way to me.’

Sure he'd been able to catch her easy, but she wasn't going to let him win in the long run.

She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, and what was much more, she'd make certain she'd get away.

'I need to get away from him.

Far ...Far away from him.'

"hm...What a rude, little lady," he said lowly, taking the piece meant for her in between his own teeth, taking a bite as he watched her, studying her and every twitch of her face as an array of emotions broke through.

It wasn't like he had anything else to do but watch her anyways, so entertained, he watched her display her truths.

She went from stubborn bitterness to a hard resolve, slowly but surely melting in a softhearted expression that was touched by sadness before she came back full circle, her lips pursed as she willed herself into the same bullheadedness.

'I won't take it…' she thought to herself, ' I don't want to…' she went on, trying to convince herself, 'but…' she thought while she swallowed hard, trying to brush away the empty feeling she felt, and what was much more, the desire she had to sink her teeth into the savory, smoky scented piece.

Her pressed lips then loosened in the slightest, the bottom one lightly sinking into her mouth as she continued to watch him, (e/c) colored eyes trained on his chewing mouth.

Longing invaded the lovely shine of eyes as she watched him, but stubbornly, she continued to deny him the satisfaction, not wanting to give the man any more reason to reign over her.

However, despite all the effort she made to seem collected, her stomach rumbled, the sound immediately drawing his eyes to her pathetic, little figure.

Catching the little twinkle in his eye she swallowed down fiercely.

Instantly her face grew warm, color blossoming over her cheeks from being so easily put to shame, all by her own roaring tummy.

“ Stubborn too.” He added with amusement, eyeing the warm color sitting on her shamed face.

‘I see… so that really was your plan,’ He mused, watching her determination slowly crack. ’Good to know,’

It'd been a hunch, but now he was convinced she purposely starved herself, be it for the reason he’d assumed or not, that was her intention, and now he was certain.

Seeing his notable enjoyment at her dismay, she tightened her teeth together, glaring at him viciously, still willing to keep up her front despite her humiliation, which always came at his hands,

“ I'll die before you get me there!” she said through gritted teeth, her words filled with malice as all the while, her face showed the same evident embarrassment that had yet to leave her even while she desperately tried to fight it.

‘ I swear… I swear I’ll find my way home,’

“You won't get a single coin for me! Not One!” She taunted him, snorting, picking at the mercenary like a madman poking a sleeping bear,

‘Because I know well enough that whoever paid you to take me wants me unscathed,’ She thought with assurance.

‘So you can either let me go….Or let me die,’ She went on, the latter being a path she didn’t want to take.

‘I don’t want to die…’ She thought to herself, pained at the thought, her heart aching, ‘ I don’t want to meet an end where I feel such incompletion, but...but if I were to continue to live, What would be my fate?’ She wondered, afraid of all of the horrible things she could be subjugated to.

‘What awaits at the end of this journey?’ She wondered helplessly.

‘Who...Who awaits me?’

“Oh really?” He said amused. “You think so?” He asked her, continuing to eat, unbothered by her threats, interested in provoking her in order to see just how far she’d really go, because he hadn’t known she could bark so much.

He thought she was meek.

He figured she was easy to break, but he was slowly being proven wrong.

At the sound of his entertained tone, she strained against the tight ropes, “I know so !” She answered back, roaring at him with a voice that held a dangerous firmness within it,

“I don't know who paid you to do this…” she started, in her own mind trying her damn best to figure out just who in the world wanted her so bad that they'd pay some armed mercenary to whisk her away.

"But they won't give you anything seeing me dead!" She cried out, her arms still attempting to pull away from each other, wiggling on her seat on the floor, attempting to do the same with the restraint on her legs.

“I’m starting to see that you’re really stubborn,” he muttered, watching her waste her energy, seeing her waste the lovely, flickering flame that had him entertained.

“You’re barkin’ at a Knott. Wiggling so much won’t get you anywhere, so all in all, I’d say that once we get there, you’d just wasted that breath of yours,” He informed her, watching her continue to shift with the knowledge that she’d stay bound regardless of what she did.

'Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!'

Fuming, she stopped squirming, refusing to answer him back, instead looking up at the sky, her nose turning up to it as she inclined her head back to gaze at it fully.

Up there in the sky….

‘ Does anyone see me?’ She wondered. ‘Can anyone save me?’ She continued to ponder, wishing that somehow the ropes that bound her became unwoven, somehow unthreading.

(F/n) continued on, ignoring him instead as her thoughts strayed up to the sky with a yearning gaze, sadness dancing with the little shining specs in her (e/c) colored orbs.

‘If you know I need you…

If you know where I am…

If you come to me in my hours of sleep…

Then why don’t you save me from this nightmare? From this horrible isolation and sorrow?

Why don’t you show yourself?

Why have you abandoned me?’

Hearing no reply back, Erron took a step closer, staring down at her from his upturned chin, glaring down at her with an irked twitch to his brow.

“So...After all that, you're ignoring me again?” He asked her, approaching her again and crossing his thick arms above his chest.

He saw her jaw move, tensing up and tightening as she kept her eyes up to the dark sky, seeming to grow more and more annoyed by his presence, and nearing an approach to yet another explosion of hers.

He knelt down to her, his eyes fixed on her, staring at the woman dead on yet, still being ignored by her as she continued to reside in her thoughts instead, choosing to do away with his presence the only way she could.

“Really now?” he said with a low sigh,” After all that bark you plan on giving me the cold shoulder ?” He asked her, receiving a cold, desolate silence in return, irking him, the woman easily crawling under his skin with her little act.

'Stubborn little brat…' he thought while huffing.

“...I’ve said all I need to say to you,” She said lowly, still not bothering to look towards him, instead, gazing up at the air, the dark, night sky soon in her line of vision,

“...You rotten man,” She added with a clenched jaw.

"Alrighty then,” he said with a nod, “That's just fine,” he told her, shrugging disinterestedly. “Fine by me if you keep your mouth shut,” He retorted, “But you know… I can't have you starved,” he informed her.

“ Dying on me…” he added nonchalantly.

“So eat,” He told her, receiving a brisk and snarky No in return.

“ It’s not good for my business, you know?” He told her, and as he spoke he could see a thick shiver run through her, rattling her as he put in his complaint.

“Bringing in a dead body won’t do me any good,” He added, almost as though him telling her about his little dilemma would convince her otherwise.

“Screw y-”

Not letting her finish, he caught her nose in between his two fingers both his thumb and index pressed on either side, squeezing tightly and cutting off her airflow.

At that, her eyes bugged, arms flailing to tear his hand away, but as she did, she was left with the same helplessness as the restraints which bound her didn't budge.

Being trapped, she couldn't really fight back, and the best she could do was shake her head, but even then, his grip was firm, causing tears to bubble in her eyes as the sting of his press and lack of oxygen overwhelmed her,

“Ah!”

It didn't take long for her to gasp, her mouth flying wide open, and with a quick hand, he shoved the last of his morsel in her mouth, offering her a satisfied grin while he succeeded.

She would have spit it out had it not tasted so heavenly, especially while she was starved.

He watched as she begrudgingly ate, satisfied with himself, "’atta girl," he muttered, making her scowl, her eyes once again glowing with a fierce fire.

“ If looks could kill,” he started,” by now I’d be dead, dead, dead,” he mused, “ right honey?” He asked her, making her scoff before she swallowed down the bit of food with a dried mouth,

‘ How dare he…

How dare this… this… rotten man toy so much with me!’ She thought with dismay, convinced that every thing he did was to bother her.

If it wasn’t bad enough that he’d caught her and had her at his mercy, he seemed to enjoy picking at her and making her suffer.

‘But then again…’ She mused while a sudden thought came to her as she saw an open window, ‘It's to my advantage…Right?’ She thought to herself, slowly finding her voice, her (e/c) colored eyes drawn to his boots, not daring to look up at him, knowing her eyes could betray her,

‘If he finds me to be so vulnerable…

If he thinks I’m so helpless… then wouldn’t that mean he sees no threat in me?

Wouldn't that mean that he doesn’t expect me to get the best of him?

Isn’t he too confident?... Enough for me to take my needed chance? ’ She wondered with hope.

‘I’m nowhere near as strong as he is...’ She thought with certainty, ‘But maybe I don’t have to be,’ She thought while momentarily bringing her eyes to the weapon strapped to his side.

‘Maybe I just have to be smarter,’ She added.

‘If I can get it away from him... and maybe even use it myself...’ She trailed off, biting her lower lip,

‘If he can get closer to me...and give me just a moment...’

“Can I...I have some water? ” She asked him softly, making him chuckle.

“ You have to be sweeter than that honey. After all that big talk I'm a little hesitant to get closer to you… Who knows right? “ He asked her. “For all I know you could try and bite me.

From that little devilish look in your eye, I can only assume you're on the shoot.” He told her, betting on the chances of her planning to escape.

“I’m parched,” She told him, which wasn’t too much of a lie because she actually was thirsty.

“ I haven't had anything to eat or drink,” She said to him, giving him large doe eyes, the sudden look of plea hitting him with surprise.

Again, her little stars were shot to him, causing his jaw to lock at the sight, remembering just what they did to him the last time, figuring she was making the same attempt,

'She's a damn witch,' He told himself, convinced she had some sort of magic to her as he reached towards his water canteen, unscrewing it as he approached her yet again.

He then kneeled to her, coming closer to her level while his right hand began to tilt the opened container just over her mouth, his left hand momentarily running his fingers over the soft skin of her chin, lifting it up with the tips of them to make sure she didn't spill anything.

"Open up," He murmured, his actions making her frown, the expression instantly washing over her as he leaned in.

"C-Can't you let me go?" She asked him, having expected him to untie the restraints to let her drink," I can drink on my own," she said softly, barely uttering the words, because as she spoke she knew she was being too hopeful and that he wouldn't take a bite to her bait.

- But she had to try.

She had to take every chance she could.

Adorning a little smirk, he chuckled, " I sure hope you don't take me as a fool darling," he said while watching her stiffen.

"Insincerity...It really isn't in you, is it?" He asked her, having noticed how little she could hide her true self.

"You want me to let you go, don't you?" He asked her, placing the canteen aside, moving it out of the way before he trailed his left hand down from her waist to her thigh, moving down even more to reach her ankles where he'd tied her up.

All the while she stared at him wide-eyed, watching him undo the knot that held her before he made his way to the other tie, both knees pressed to the ground as he placed himself before her, his arms fully around her figure.

" You know...All you had to do was ask," He told her, his grin present as he was pressed to her, momentarily working on the binds while she basked in his strangely warm, sweet scent of leather.

"If you'd just kindly asked me before...there'd be no need to try and fool me," He murmured, the thickness in his voice causing her to swallow down strongly.

"After all, I'm a sucker for pretty girls..." He informed her, her face blooming with color at the statement.

During then the tip of her nose was pressed onto his chest, breathing in his smell with tightly shut eyes,

'It's overwhelming,' She thought to herself, having already been surrounded by the scent while they'd rode on the hooved creature, but not having been encased by it as she was now.

It was inescapable and tantalizing.

Unlike before, now she was facing him, and it felt so much more intimate to be pressed together in such a manner,

'-But...wait...what...what's going on?' She wondered with confusion while the pit of her stomach warmed, a strange, yet sweet, and warm feeling spreading out to the rest of her body as it was surrounded by him.

" You think I'm the big bad wolf, don't you?" He asked her with a small hum, hearing her reply to him with a nearly soundless sigh, having nothing more to really respond with.

' No. I think you're awful...I know you are...' She thought to herself, trying to ignore the strange, and foreign feeling that washed over her.

'You're...You're the worst,' she reminded herself.

"But really... I'd only bite if you gave me a reason to...If you'd tempt me to..." He added while drawn so close she felt uncertain on whether or not he could actually feel the wild pace her heart ran with.

'You must know what you're doing to me...

Whatever it is you’re doing to me...You have to know...' She silently spoke, wanting to draw back from him, yet left stupidly stilled.

Unwillingly, a little, anxious whimper escaped her, causing his chest to rumble with yet another chuckle, the sound surrounding her, causing her skin to bump up, the woman becoming thoroughly flustered.

'You must be enjoying this...' She thought with perturbation. 'Toying with me like this... making me feel so helpless and small...I...I...Just why do I even feel like this to begin with?'

He suddenly stopped, his voice low, beneath his breath, sounding clear as day to her as she was at such a close range, daring to ask a question that needed no answer,

"Am I making you nervous?" He asked her, teasing her, causing the tension between them to thicken furthermore.

It had always there. The same thick, uncomforting feeling as the villain was pressed so close to her was always present, however, somehow, with just the single teasing utter, he'd made the air became almost unbreathable and suffocating.

'Is it just me? ' She wondered, suddenly feeling warmer, the feeling somehow similar to standing near a blazing fire.

She felt so nervous and small, her vulnerability making her feel delicate beneath the rugged man who she was growing certain remained unmoved.

" what do you want from me?" She then asked him, her chest heaved as she shook, wanting to know just what his plan was.

She was aware that he was dangerous.

She knew he wasn't there out of the kindness of his heart, and that the only reason their paths crossed was because of who he already was.

‘You’re someone who’s done awful things.

You’re someone who doesn’t care about anything but himself and what he can get back.‘

She knew it, and yet, within such a short time, the warmth of his body had already become familiar to her, melting over her sweetly, and leaving a mark that now responded at any form of closeness.

‘You’re not someone I should be comfortable with in any way...

So why is my body responding in this way? '

"Why me?" She asked him in search of a concrete answer.

Why her of all people?

" Someone just wants you that bad..." he replied, answering briskly.

"Who?" She asked him anxiously, all while pleading.

'Just who,' she thought with fright.

" Can't say," he answered back because truth be told, he had no idea.

He'd only ever met the man once and during then his voice was slightly muffled by the mask he'd worn. And if that wasn't enough, he'd also worn a long hood, hiding most of himself save for his dark gaze.

The almond-shaped eyes clicked in his mind, but not enough to give him certainty on just who it was.

" But we'll see when we get there," he told her.

"In the meantime-"

" Why don't you just let me go?" she interrupted him, questioning him in the same hushed tone of before, "You can let me go," she assured him, her glimmering eyes pleading as she inclined her head back, gazing up at him.

' If there is any good in you, please... please let me see it.

Please let it shine through.' She thought with growing faith. ‘ This feeling...give it reason.’ She went on, searching for a soft spot within his glaring dark stones, trying to weave through to a portion of his heart that held mercy.

"And why would I do that? What do I get in return?" He questioned her, scoffing at her plea, because she couldn't really believe it was just that easy, right?

Did she think she could give him puppy eyes and she'd be set?

His resolve then hardened even more as he looked down at her, challenging her, letting her understand that if she thought a look from her eyes was enough to bind him again, she was sorely mistaken.

It wasn't going to happen another time, because he was a strong man, one that wouldn't be caught off guard.

- One who would cave down to no little woman.

Just then the ropes fell, and in that instance of freedom her hands went up to his chest, intent on pushing back while he did the contrary, slowly falling onto her until she was left supported on her elbows.

' Do you understand..?' he mused while he was coming close to her, ' I'm In charge...and for now... I make the rules.

So don't think you have anything over me.

Don't think you can play me in any way. '

Her hand then moved to snake over to the side his gun was strapped to when he spoke, stopping her,

" Tell me Darlin', if we were to cut a deal....what would I get from you?" He asked her, the question making her eyes widen.

The featherlight hope within her grew, her eyes gleaming with the lovely look of trusting faith causing him to shake his head in disbelief. He was amused she really had so much optimism in her despite being trapped beneath him, and that all in all, she was stuck at the mercy of a man that made his living spilling red.

" Anything," she said nodding, starry-eyed and happy, "Anything you want," she breathed.

"Oh? And How much is that ?" He asked, interested, "How much can you give?" he asked her, "You might be able to buy your way out of this," he informed her, knowing there was no way in hell she could, but entertained by just what she'd give,

What did she think was valuable?

" I already told you, you can have anything you want!" She said desperately, not understanding why he pressed on so much.

Didn't he understand that anything was better than being sold off?

Didn't he get that all she wanted to do was make her way back home?

"Just let me go home and leave me be!" She exclaimed.

"So..." he started, dragging out the word with a little teasing grin, "You're willing to give me anything I ask for... You want to be free that bad?" He asked her, and with a furious nod, she agreed again.

"Please..." she airily murmured.

' I don't know what I've done...

What I've done wrong...

But if it gets me back home, I'll owe you my life.'

A miserable, little smile touched her face while her wet eyes looked up at him, holding onto the small string of hope he'd tossed at her.

"Well..." He started, idly running the fingers of his left hand beneath one eye to catch any escaping drops, the sweet touch giving her a soft form of comfort.

The hand so close to the weapon withdrew fully, moved to his kind hand, offering a lax hold to his wrist that assured him she was thankful and appreciative.

‘There is something in you then...something that is good,’ She began to think.

"Now that you mention it, there is just one thing," He said to her, continuing to smile, leering down even closer to her, the proximity causing her breath to hitch as he fully climbed over her, caging her down.

" I know there's one thing you could pay me with," he added. " Hell...I don't think you've shared it with anyone yet," he said chuckling, running the same hand's fingers down over her neck, falling to her chest to where his touch became nearly nonexistent, ghosting over the bosom until he went down to her ribcage.

All the while, his eyes were glued to her ripening face as it glowed and realization dawned onto her.

"Mind sharing it with me? "He asked her, his husky voice falling over her little, heated ear as he whispered the offer.

'Did it cross your mind?' He wondered, 'Or are you that innocently foolish?' He went on, interested to know what went through her mind.

During the entire time, he'd been just toying with her, but even then he felt a small twitch, growing excited as he caught a whiff of the sweet scent she carried around.

The smell that emitted from her (s/c) flesh was eerily similar to fresh wildflowers, and it was only really noticeable as he brushed his nose over her flesh, the little arousing aroma only just letting itself be known.

' I'm starting to see how you could make a man go stupid,' he thought to himself, recognizing that she was arousing from sight to scent.

"Not! Not that!" She cried out, literally shaking at his fingertips, the woman growing as delicate as a brittle leaf,

"Get...away..." she said with harsh pants, her voice trembling.

"But you said anything, right? " he said in a low murmur, reminding her of just what she had said, making her realize just how stupid she was.

' You thought you'd strike a chord in me and that I'd cave.

You really thought this world worked that way.'

"So convince me," he said whilst his lips grazed over her neck, the little contact tickling her, causing her to shiver.

A little sound that she'd never produced before set free from the confinement of her strongly heaved chest and soon after, A sweet, virginal moan struck him.

With a tight bite to his lip that slowly raked over the flesh, he then took a long breath through clenched teeth.

"No... no..." she shook her head, tears bubbling in her eyes as she wanted to pull back every promise she made, swallowing down the words of compromise she had given him because by then she had become thoroughly frightened.

" ...Off," she weakly begged, her hands which were still on his chest fisting his shirt before she resorted to pushing her balled hands toward his chest, feeble, shaken strikes bumping him.

'For just a moment...For just a measly second...I actually trusted you!' She thought with growing anger.

' You made me think that there was a shred of kindness in you when you're nothing but a sick...

Degenerate...

Awful...

Rotten man!'

The little quakes that had overcome her ceased, as she clenched her teeth tightly, barring them with a low snarl, "Get off of me now!" She demanded, her voice suddenly stern and certain, filling with spite.

Her right hand flew up to his face, her palm greeting his flesh with a vicious contact that echoed out, the quiet silence of the desert land interrupted by the clash.

His head moved with the force she used on him and blankly, he stared off to the side, feeling the bothersome sting left on his cheek after the well-deserved assault.

"You actually went and struck me..." he said slowly, his brown eyes glaring down at her, darkened down to near black as he watched her fierce features then melt, regret gleaming in her eyes as she realized just what she did.

His tongue slowly ran over his top lip, a heavy breath passing through his parted lips as he inhaled, sucking in a low breath.

His two hands then reached for her wrists, one pinning her left over her head with unkind force, the other lifting up her right hand back up to his face, forcing the offending hand to lay over the stinging spot it had struck.

Under her touch the spot was pulsing hot, throbbing with pain which overall left him impressed,

"I didn't think you'd actually go ahead..." he said chuckling, no true show of malice or rebuttal being reflected.

'Serve's me right, right?' He thought to himself cheekily.

" I Didn't take you to be so brash," he admitted to her, because despite the spikes of strength that glowed in her eyes, he hadn't figured she'd be brave enough to actually take a strike at him.

"Not with these hands," he added, continuing with the same amusement, feeling her shake, the little quake present even in her fingertips.

‘These little hands that were so sweet to patches of weeds, ‘ He thought to himself as he remembered how sweetly she interacted with her garden.

" Little miss sweet and innocent; Miss I wouldn't hurt a fly..." he jeered, "She has some poison in her, doesn't she?" he said while watching her, the said venom which had previously brewed not there, replaced with fear.

"It's a real shame..." he murmured, pressing his lips over her stinging palm, giving it a quick, playful peck that lingered.

' I know it hurts darling'...it hurts you more than it does me, doesn't it? ' He mused while his lips rested on her warm palm.

‘ I can only assume you detest violence. You loath it as much as you say you hate me.

Maybe because... To you, I am violence.

To you, I’m a complete nightmare. ’

There was so much shame in her eyes that she shut them close, not wanting to be ogled by the man that had already greedily drunk in their sight.

' It is such a shame...

A shame I can't touch you,' he thought with the same excitement.

' It’s A shame your nothing but an inexperienced girl at that,' he added with a shake to his head, his mind wandering to territory he knew shouldn't be threaded upon, but was unavoidable.

He dared her to stop him again, willing to take her command if she found her voice,

' Tell me no and I'll stop.

If you can...

If those pretty lips can form the words...I'll step back now,' He thought while in the end, she stayed silent, leaving his warm mouth stuck to her, not moving from the little spot it’d landed on.

Afterward, he let her limb fall, retreating and ultimately, leaving her little body to lay with haggard breathing that was difficult to ease.

It was then that her hands reached up to her risen chest, scrambling back further from him, wanting to run, but left a wobbling mess.

Her erratic heart was in desperate need of a steady hand to grasp it, and helplessly, she clutched her chest, her wide, teary eyes following the man, afraid of him, and yet, somehow excited.

It was all too much for her.

What was much worse, the present excitement she fizzled with had her in a poorer state, the woman wondering why her body had grown so hot, as well as questioning why the sight of him caused her chest to ache so much.

' I can't stay here... I just can't,' she told herself, watching as he seemed unaffected, the light of the fire being put out by the sand he gently kicked into it.

'I have to leave...' She told herself, letting the precious time slip past her fingers as she stayed motionless instead, watching him in quiet silence until he decided to pay her mind again.

As his eyes landed on her, she couldn't help but shrink furthermore, much more as he went to her, the bind in his hands yet again, having already given her enough time to enjoy being unbound.

'She didn't try anything,' He told himself, somewhat surprised. ‘She didn’t even move an inch,’ He observed.

" Time for some shut eyes darlin," he murmured lowly, suddenly seeming somber, all the traces of amusement he typically wore drained out, the overall sentiment having been vacant throughout the entire two hours of calm quietness.

Reaching towards her, he pulled her dangerously close to him as he carefully knotted the rope around her wrists and ankles, each twist done with slow carefulness, making certain it was secured, yet kind.

‘Since you’ve been good...I suppose I’ll be nice.’ He silently spoke to her as he finished up restraining her, doing so in a much more comfortable manner, leaving her arms before her rather than behind.

" We're heading out in the morning, just before the sunrise," he informed her while draping a small, woolen blanket over her, her little, balled body covered by it.

"So rest up..." he added while going back to his previous spot across her, keeping his eyes on her until he was sure she was out.

Again, the same small sounds of discomfort he'd become familiar with drew from her, making his lips press together firmly, his head shaking.

Inclining his head back, he then stared up at the stars, leisurely counting them until somewhere along the count he closed his eyes a final time, his eyelids grown to heavy to blink open.

‘A good night’s rest,’ He thought to himself. ‘That’s all I need.’

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Next Part: I Know I shouldn’t

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