#why yes i love pathetic men begging in the rain

[takamor]

“what are you doing here?”

in all honesty, he should’ve expected the brittle ring to your voice.

he really should’ve expected how you fold your arms around your chest as if protecting your heart from him. (he’s been so rough with it in the past, after all.)

and especially how you squint your eyes at him like you can’t believe he’s really standing in your doorway at one in the morning, rain pounding against his back and a lopsided grin on his face. (he doesn’t blame you—never has. he can’t even believe where he’s at, but he’s not exactly surprised. you’ve always felt like home to him.)

it’s not a surprise how you stand squarely between him and your entryway, but there’s a part of him that breaks anyway. (he isn’t welcome here, he knows it, but it’s one in the morning on a rainy tuesday night and he just wants to go home.)

“c’mon, darlin’, you know why i’m here.” he tries his hardest to sound lighthearted, but there’s a wobble to his tone, and he hopes he didn’t imagine you softening just the slightest bit.

but just as quickly as he sees a flash of tenderness across your face, you’re back to glowering at him the best you can and standing your ground. “no, i don’t, atsumu, considering you broke up with me two weeks ago.”

“is it cheesy of me to say i’ve regretted it every day since?”

“incredibly, but also incredibly like you.”

“even if it’s true?”

“especially if it’s true.”

it’s easy to fall into familiar banter with him, a reflex almost. atsumu has always been easy to bicker with. there’s something bittersweet about how sharp both of your tongues are and how thick your skin is. it was the foundation of your relationship. evidently, a weak one. and whether it’s the alcohol pumping through his veins or the feeling of belonging taking root in his guts, he doesn’t realize he’s reached out his hand towards you until he feels his knuckles brush against your cheek. you indulge it just for a moment, long enough to remember how good it felt to wake up to him every morning, before grabbing his wrist.

“what are you doing here, atsumu?” you repeat, firmer this time, his pulse thumping against your palm.

he feels guilty, but not enough to leave. just enough to look slightly sheepish and gently wriggle his wrist out of your grasp so he can scratch the back of his head. a nervous habit of his, and you can appreciate that he has the sense to be somewhat ashamed. “jus’ wanted to see ya’ is all…”

you hold your chin up and he shrinks away from your glare. “then you should’ve thought twice about breaking up with me, huh?”

“look—” he tries to get out the rest of his sentence, he really does, but it’s freezing cold and the rain is starting to sting his skin and his tongue feels a lot heavier than it should and his vision is starting to blur and, by god, he thinks he might actually be crying. how much more of a fucking cliché can he be? pathetically standing on his ex’s porch in the pouring rain, sake and regret causing his body to feel stuffed full of cotton and stones, hands shaking from nerves and cold air. atsumu miya is truly the epitome of pride and self-destruction at its finest. “i…” he runs his hand down his face in hopes that it’ll sober him up a little, and his previous suspicions are confirmed when he can feel the telltale warmth of tears. “i was an idiot and bein’ selfish and i shouldn’t a’ said what i said—”

“you called me insecure when i told you i wanted to spend more time with you.”

“i know and i’m sorry and if you—”

“you said if i wanted to date an all star athlete then i shouldn’t try to drag them down.”

“i know and—”

“you called me childish. you. of all fucking people, atsumu.”

he isn’t sure when you guys started yelling or when your words started to feel more like fists, but his hands are shaking and he thinks his heart is breaking. it feels like it is. his stomach is churning and he’s certain it isn’t from the alcohol; his lungs ache with every breath he takes; his throat is raw and closing more with each minute that passes by; his mind is racing trying to keep up with his mouth, but it can’t seem to catch up. someone must’ve hit his power button, because he feels as if he’s shut down. he’s frozen. unsure whether you’re going to keep fighting him or just slam the door on him. he hopes it’s the former, so he has more time to memorize the curves of your face.

“what gives you the right, atsumu miya?” you continue on, indignation staining your words. “what gives you the fucking right to break up with me after i told you i was worried about you caring more about volleyball than me, and then show up on my doorstep in the middle of the night drunk off of your ass? i tried calling you, texting you, and you never fucking answered. you even blocked me on your socials before the night ended. even osamu, your fucking twin brother, reached out to me because he knew how much you meant to me. and right when i’m starting to warm up to the idea of moving on, you show up. you fucking show up...”

he reaches out to wipe the tears from your cheeks, but you flinch away this time, scared of crumbling under his touch. the ice in your chest has melted enough to reveal the clumsy stitching you’ve done to seal angry cuts he left. you don’t want to show the ugly deeper ones you’re still trying to figure out how to bandage. the wounded look in his deep eyes has you longing to feel warm again.

“please,” he whispers. “jus’ let me inside and you can yell at me. you can even kick me out after, i promise. but my feet are numb and i dunno how much longer i can stand out here without catchin’ a cold. and i think your neighbors are startin’ to hate ya’.”

it’s one in the morning on a rainy tuesday night, and a drunk atsumu miya is standing on your doorstep, and it’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. something cautiously optimistic twinkles in his eyes as you scoot over to let him in your apartment, and he folds in on himself as he squeezes past you, and it’s so unlike him, a seedling of hope starts to bloom in your rib cage. atsumu has never tried to make himself appear smaller for anyone’s sake, but he’s trying his best to shrink his body for you. with the deliberation of someone handling glass, he slips feet out of his shoes and makes his way over to your couch, droplets of rain rolling off of his clothes and landing soundlessly on your carpet. anxiety radiates off of him in heavy waves. he fiddles with the strings of his jacket, dark eyes watching your every movement, the corners of his mouth twitching, muscular legs bouncing with anticipation as if he’s ready to bolt at any given moment.

it’s the most nervous you’ve ever seen him, and a part of you feels righteous.

“what are you doing here, miya?” it’s the third time you’ve asked him the question and the softest way you’ve done it. and though he cracks at the formality of his last name, he can appreciate how delicate you sound while whispering it.

finally, somehow, he finds his voice buried under the lump in his throat. “i’m an idiot. i ruined the best thing to ever happen to me because i got scared, and i wanna make it right.” he bites his lip. copper explodes on his tongue and it shouldn’t taste so good mixed with sake, but he finds himself indulging nonetheless. when you don’t speak, he continues on in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. “‘m sorry. i dunno how much my words are worth to you now, and i don’t blame you if you hate me. i kinda hate me right now…” He humorlessly chuckles and glares at the floor as if it were the source of all of this. “but i miss you. none of this shit means anythin’ to me if i don’t have you, darlin’.”

“don’t say that.”

his eyes snap up back to you and he’s somewhat relieved to see you earnest. “hm?”

“don’t say that volleyball doesn’t mean anything to you,” you mutter, and it’s your turn to glare at the carpet. “i won’t allow you to. with or without me, volleyball is your…thing. it’s what you wake up in the morning for. it’s what you go to bed thinking of. it’s what your mind wanders to. and, yeah, it’s annoying sometimes, but that’s a part of you. don’t let me take that away from you.”

atsumu rubs at his face and inspects his hands, all of the calluses and evidence of his days on the court. a part of him still wants to cut out volleyball, hurt himself as much as he’s hurt you, because he knows you’re right—him without volleyball is like him without food to eat, water to drink, oxygen to inhale. it’s been the one constant in his life, the thing that has brought him back from the ledge again and again. he thought it’d be the only thing he’d care about, until he met you. could one take priority over another? would you make him choose? or was he just scared of you doing it and cut his losses before he could find out? in the end, you both know what he’d choose, and maybe he was trying to save you from that. he never thought of himself as so chivalrous. then again, he didn’t think much of himself outside of volleyball. but he’s been through this story so many fucking times he knows the ending: you’ll grow to resent him because volleyball takes up more of his heart than you do and he’ll end up with another hole in it. it already started when you mentioned you hadn’t seen him much these past few weeks during practice season. and although at the time you brought it up off-handedly, he knows the topic won’t be so easy the fifth time it’s brought up.

and so, he did what he does best: made the kill shot and ended things before they got too hard.

but there’s that annoyingly idyllic part of him that’s hoping, praying, this ending is different and maybe his love for volleyball is a part of the reason you love him so much. seeing him so passionate, pushing himself on the court, looking in your direction after every shot he takes, silently dedicating every serve he makes to you. maybe you see all of that and adore him for it. he hopes you do.

“how drunk are you?” you ask suddenly.

he perks at the sound of your voice. “drunk enough to say what’s on my mind. sober enough to know how stupid i am for tryin’ to pull this off.”

you chuckle despite yourself, and that blossom of hope in his ribcage grows a little more. “well, we’ll talk about this in the morning, okay? i’m tired and not thinking clearly, and you obviously aren’t either. here—” careful to avoid his touch, you grab at the blanket strew over the head of the couch. he still gets a noseful of your shampoo, however, and that’s enough to make his chest ache and his arms long to hold you. “crash on the couch, ‘kay? you know where the bathroom is if you need to vomit.”

“i can hold my liquor,” he begrudgingly mutters as he wrestles to take his jacket off and cocoon himself with the blanket. it smells like you as well, and he can almost pretend it’s you wrapped around his body instead of the woven acrylic. he shivers, despite the warmth provided by the blanket.

you look down at him fondly. it doesn’t help his ribcage one bit. “i know.”

once he’s settled in, you bid him goodnight and begin to tread towards your room, feet heavy and heart feeling even heavier.

“does that mean there’s hope?” he sounds so small, his words rose-colored and dripping with caged optimism, that you can’t help but soften some of your hard edges for him. you glance over your shoulder and are surprised by the shining dark eyes peeking back over to you.

“what?” you dumbly reply, too emotionally drained to contemplate much more.

“you said we’ll talk about this in the mornin’,” he slowly explains, as if his words weigh more than he expected. “does that mean there’s hope?”

“i—” you bite your tongue. atsumu is looking at you as if you have his heart in the palm of your hand, and you have a slight suspension he’s right. hesitantly, as to not break him any more than he already has, you meet his eyes, and there’s that fragile hope staring right back at you. “i don’t know, ‘tsumu. but i’m willing to hear you out.”

he smiles, because you’ve finally used the name he fell in love with hearing roll off your tongue. even if there’s no way to fix what he’s broken, he can at least know that there’s a part of you that’s still fond of him, even if it’s buried under the bitter animosity of heartbreak. that, he thinks, will be good enough for now.

[weebsinstash]

Why did I... Why did I kinda sorta imagine Erasermic the entire time with that one Emperor x Empress Reader x Male Concubine concept. Like. Aizawa as the Emperor and Hizashi as the concubine? Oomph.

Ok so this is definitely not the response you were looking for but when I was reading that Professor Venomous fic the other day WHICH SIDENOTE IS NOW LIVING IN MY HEAD RENT FREE BY THE WAY

(If you've never heard this man's voice before let me assure you yes the creators ARE trying to make you horny on purpose)

Anyways I was reading that fic and it reminded me how I would watch OK KO and I would think of a sort of reader insert character whatever always kind of popping in and out and sarcastically teasing people or making smart ass remarks towards Venomous and Boxman while they try and fail at villainy and go about their goofy antics and such and I suddenly had that epiphany of "oh wait isn't that just kind of the dynamic i liked about Erasermic, one of them is goofy and weird and the hot one is dark haired and more composed and all growly and shit" because I mean

like am I having a stroke or do they not have similar energy, like for the love of God BOXMAN AND VENOMOUS LITERALLY GET FUCKING MARRIED (seriously go watch OK KO its actually good though) and also they're both canon bi/pan btw, but like. Is this just the point in my life where I'm being horny for goofy ass weird men or moving towards a phase where I'm more attracted to narrative potential other than outright physical appearance at least in terms of writing things 👀 who knows

That being said I've been thinking of that concubine and emperor x reader idea and idk who I would use in terms of if I substituted characters, it might be fun to go more original, idk.

I thought of this idea of like, what sort of events could be that stereotypical "i didn't even fucking do anything and you're blaming me" and I thought of like, if the male concubine is so incredibly clingy and dying for reader's approval, imagine she catches him like bullying/horribly punishing a servant for a dumb reason and chews him out for him and has him escorted out of her palace and shuts the gates, and he just waits kneeling and calling out for her begging to be let back in, and Reader just completely ignores him because if she can't outright pubish him as the beloved concubine she can at least remove him from her little manor so he won't hurt her servants. And I imagine she tells the guards and other workers to completely ignore him because SURELY he'll eventually leave, right?

Except it starts pouring rain and you get a bad feeling and you rush outside and HE'S STILL THERE, ALL THESE HOURS LATER, SOAKING WET AND SHIVERING. So now fuck, you have to bring him in, and the whole time he's like "I knew you would come for me" and like little pathetic simping shit that makes it obvious he doesn't care about the punishment if he even realized it was one at all and he's just all but purring you pulled him out of the rain because, oh poor thing can't you see he is just cold and shivering? 🥺 is he one of those psychos who would hurt himself for your attention? Maybe, actually, if it works 😩 but of course the stupid little twunk is sick now with a horrible fever and of course who else but the Emperor is showing up "you had him kneel out in the cold until he fell ill? How heartless are you?" When it's like NO HE'S THE ONE WHO DECIDED TO STAY OUT THERE and I imagine the Emperor gives some sort of punishment like "well if you want to be left alone so badly then I suppose you won't need to leave your palace or receive guests for the rest of the season"

Reader has her hands full with all these conniving obsessive little shits 😩

[youryanderedaddy]

Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...

What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.

What happens next?

Title: Eat the poor

Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university

Part 2

It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.

You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.

“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.

“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.

“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.

Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”

You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.

“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”

This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.

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

After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.

In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.

“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?

“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.

“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.

Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.

“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.

“I knew you would come around, bunny.”

[penguintransporter]

Winning The Game Called Love (Hector Bellerin) PART II

This is part II of my mini Héctor Bellerín story. I hope you like it, and I am thankful for all of the five or six people who read and liked the first part. You are the best… If you like this one, don’t be shy to write what you think about it.

Part I

_____ 

“You look like someone has killed your unicorn.”

Aida looked up from where she had been sitting - a single chair in the corner of the room, as an urge to take a ridiculous and cartoon-inspired double-take at the handsome footballer in front of her overwhelmed her. 

Héctor stood mere feet away from her, hands in his pockets, looking devilishly handsome in his official suit. Despite not being the tallest or the most muscular man on the squad, to Aida, he did have something that she was attracted to - character and the confidence that he toyed with tactfully. Even now, as he was staring down at her, with his eyebrows raised ever so slightly, it made Aida’s stomach do an one-eighty. 

Realisation dawned on her - he was obviously waiting for an answer, but Aida wasn’t sure what he asked her in the first place. Her brain was folding in itself from being struck by his presence to the point that she was unable to form any kind of vocal response. Like a fish, she stared back at him, trying to buy some more time. 

Why did he have to look so good in that suit?

Héctor lightly cleared his throat and Aida blinked, feeling her brain unfold before she remembered that he actually said something and that she was supposed to reply, but the “unicorn” bit had her confused. 

Was that supposed to be a joke? Should I laugh? 

Do something because he is about to leave.

“Pardon?” she asked quickly - voice slightly squeaky. “Unicorn? I didn’t get it…” she trailed off, her voice reaching her usual melody.

Héctor didn’t smile, but rather tilted his head in curiosity for what seemed an eternity, and Aida let out a breath that was a mix of defeat and disappointment. Yes, there was a huge amount of excitement bubbling up inside of her, but she was also aware that this wouldn’t be the first time that he was ignoring her. He always did, so why did she, deep down, expect some kind of conversation. 

Maybe because he spoke to you first, you idiot?

To her surprise, Héctor turned around for a second, grabbing the nearest empty chair before putting it in front of her and sitting down, gently pulling at his trousers as he did so. 

“What’s up?” he asked her nonchalantly and with a small smile, making Aida’s brain fold itself once again - her thoughts running wild like gazelles in a savanna.

Can you find gazelles in savanna in the first place?

Shit, there is no time for this right now, Aida!

If it was any other situation, Aida would be more than glad to jump on a train of bad and self-deprecating jokes, elaborate something funny, but with Héctor sitting in front of her it felt as if her tongue was completely cut off. She wanted so badly to slap herself and come to her senses because this was, to her sudden realisation, probably the first and last time she would get to speak to him properly and in person.

Finally, she gave him a shrug, deciding in panic to stick with the lamest thing her brain could come up with as she looked down at her lap. “Just enjoying the party. It’s lovely, innit?”

Oh, well done, Aida. Well done.

She was aware that anyone with the normal or even a prescription-enhanced sight and a common knowledge of body language would know that she was not telling the truth or at least that she was trying to cover her real feelings. 

Héctor wasn’t a stupid lad - Aida knew that much.

His eyebrow shot up again, this time higher before he leaned back in the chair, watching her amusedly. “I have a hard time believing that you are having fun, but yeah, let’s put it your way - the party is lit. A bit boring at the moment, with all these investors and rich men talking shit about things they don’t know anything about. The music is a downer too.”

Aida looked away, feeling like squirming under his gaze and the weight of the words he spoke, crossing her legs as ladylike as possible. 

Her throat felt like she swallowed a handful of dust - itchy and dry. It wasn’t as if she was stupid or socially awkward; she just wasn’t sure what else she could ask him. 

Deciding that she should say something before he just gets up and leaves her, she tucked a strand of her hair. “So…” she stopped for a second, mulling over her words, figuring how to formulate her thoughts “Are you happy with the season so far?” 

Héctor nodded, looking at the other side of the lobby where his teammates were standing, but Aida, instead of doing the same, focused on his tied hair, the curve of his neck, and his choice of jewelry - an hoop earring with a small cross hanging— 

“Hmmm,” he hummed looking back at her and Aida quickly dropped the staring game. “Considering the previous one, I shouldn’t be complaining.” He shrugged once again, and Aida smiled a little while crying on the inside on how pathetic she was. “Look Aida—” Héctor suddenly spoke again, a bit quieter this time as he leaned closer to her. For a split of a second his scent tickled her nose, “—that’s your name, right?” When Aida nodded in agreement, he continued, “if you want me to, I can go back to my mates, if y’know what I mean? I am not being rude here. In fact, I am trying to be friendly, but you are clearly…”

He was already getting up as he spoke, and Aida’s panic alarm kicked in - she didn’t want to remember this party like this. She didn’t want to have the memory of Héctor walking out on her because she couldn’t form cohesive sentences or be her chatty self as usual. 

“Please, sit down…” she half-asked, half-pleaded, last words coming out as a whisper. “Pardon me,” she added, “I just have a lot on my plate at the moment.”

Héctor nodded, sitting back in the chair. “No need to apologise for not feeling well,” he answered politely, “and a blind man could figure out you were not yourself tonight.” He stopped for a moment, a cheeky glint surfacing in his eyes, as he continued, “but if you were able to smile your arse off this entire time at work, you can do it tonight as well, no?”

This time it didn’t take her that long to catch up on his words, and it finally caught her what he meant with the whole “unicorn” thing. Reflexively, she straightened in her chair and folded her arms in defense. Aida was never the one to pick a fight or start a confrontation, but she was a fighter when it came to defending herself.

“I beg your pardon? Care to elaborate what you mean by that?” she asked, moving her head to one side, refusing to look at him. “You say you are not being rude, yet you seem to be mocking me even though you don’t know what’s going on in my life.”

Aida looked back at Héctor who was grinning at her, but she only knitted her eyebrows in annoyance, lifting her folded arms ever so slightly on her chest. He kept smiling, and if she had been able to, she would have raised an eyebrow at him.

“If someone should be playing defensive here, it should be me, no?” he asked, leaning closer again, smirking at her. “See what I did there? Defense, defender…” he trailed off, pointing at his chest with his thumb as he wiggled his eyebrows. 

Aida wanted to stay annoyed; wanted to make it clear that he couldn’t mock her, but as soon as the joke left his mouth, she couldn’t help herself - a burst of laughter left her throat. 

Héctor was both infuriating and cute at the same time. 

“Okay, okay,” she shook her head lightly, her hands falling back to her lap while her stomach burst into thousands of butterflies doing backflips and whatnot. “That was a good one, I admit. Still, I want an explanation.”

Héctor shifted in his seat, suddenly looking slightly uncomfortable. “It was a joke, Aida.” Aida nodded, waiting for him to elaborate but he didn’t. Instead, they settled into a silence - both of them watching people around them, until Héctor decided to cross his legs, lacing his hands around his knee. Suddenly, he spoke again. “Seriously, what’s up?” he asked as Aida felt her heart wanting to burst out of her ribcage. 

Once again, he had that playful smile painted on his face, so to avoid staring at him like a lovestruck teenager, she looked at his tattooed fingers, allowing herself time to think about her answer.

She contemplated whether she should tell him the truth or not. Was he genuinely interested in knowing what was up in her life? Or was he just being polite? Just for a second, Aida considered lying, but if she was bad at hiding her real feelings, she was even worse when it came to telling lies. Every time she tried to do so, it ended up in a disaster, no matter what was the reason or desired outcome.

Aida gazed down at her shoes and the very same speck of rain residue on her shoe before sucking in a quick breath, releasing it with a small shudder.

“I got laid off from work last month? This coming Wednesday I will no longer be working at the training centre,” she responded - the words leaving a sour and disappointed taste in her month - despite it being almost a month since she found out about it.

Aida looked up, watching Héctor’s face change from that of a silly boy to a serious one before he sat up properly, changing his posture - his elbows resting on his thighs as he leaned closer to her. Aida surprised with his sudden movement, blushed. The same scent she felt before, reached her nose again, and this time, she wanted so badly to inhale it properly. 

“Oi, that’s bad!” he replied and Aida, not knowing what to say, shrugged - there was nothing else she could do about it. “Want me to speak to someone? Maybe I can talk to the manager?” Héctor urged. 

All the fluttering from her stomach went straight to her heart.

“Thank you, but I don’t think you or anyone else can help it. The decision had been made and I already tried to talk to the department. I will be fine, I mean,” she rambled, looking up at him as she tried to give him her best fake optimistic smile. “I will find another job eventually, and anyway, there are worse things than being laid off. Imagine if I ended up on the streets or in a car accident—” Aida was fully aware that she was talking too much and too fast, but she couldn’t hold it back. The feelings she had been harbouring inside needed only one push to be released and Héctor happened to be the one to do so. “I apologise once again if I came across as asocial or something, but I.. you know.” She took a deep breath before giving him a dorky smile. “I should have stayed at home because I don’t know why I am at this party in the first place, and they don’t serve hot cocoa here, and that is exactly what I need now.”

Héctor was looking at her for what seemed an eternity when in reality it was only a few seconds, and Aida wondered if she said too much. Did she cross the border? Is he going to walk out on her thinking that she has some serious issues? 

Suddenly, he got up, straightening his trousers and then his tie before doing a wave with his hand, motioning to Aida to do the same. She kept sitting for a second, but when Héctor smiled, repeating the wave, she slowly got up. 

Is he going to ask me for a dance?

No one else is dancing? 

“Come on, let’s go.” Héctor spoke casually. 

“Pardon?”

“You should really stop saying pardon. You sound like my literature teacher and I have no fond memories of her.” 

Aida tucked her hair behind her ears bashfully. “You are giving me no choice, Héctor,” she muttered, the sound of his name coming out of her mouth feeling different than any previous time she did so. “What do you  mean by let’s go. Where?”

Héctor looked around, tucking his both hands into his trousers pockets before looking back at her with a boyish smile. “To find hot cocoa,” he finally answered, matter-of-factly.

Maybe it was her emotions or rather whirlwind of it?

Maybe it was his charming smile?

Or maybe it was a promise of hot cocoa?

Aida couldn’t help herself.

She smiled.

Part III

[mellowgirl01]

Underneath It All

MasterList

Warning: ❌❌🔞 SMUT 🔞❌❌

Word count: 1041

People: Henry, Y/N

Date: 3/21/20

Summary: “Rain down on me, let your love just fall like rain just rain, down, on, me”- swv, rain

The wind was the one.

 The thunder and the sudden strikes of lightning is what made me call hold Henry's dog, Kal, close to men since Henry was still out getting takeout. I tried to tell him it was better to stay at home, but I let him since he was feeling a bit restless. Now I really wish I hadn’t let him leave. Boom! Pow! Another startling and powerful flash goes by, along with it comes the roaring thunder. I held kal a little tighter and all he did was just try to comfort me the best he could. A gust of wind hit the house making the lights go out and I screamed as loud as I could ,hiding under the table. When I was younger I had a horrible incident where my house was hit by the worst storm. Nothing too bad happened. Yet I had been all alone. Now those terrible moments come back to me in moments like this. I pull into a ball and cry  my eyes out. I was so pathetic, hugging my knees to my chest. Suddenly I feel a hand rub my arm. 

“Y/N? Y/N...it’s okay it’s just the weather…”

“Henry?!” I looked up and there he was. Wet hair and all as poor Kal, behind him, whined

“Come on out love, it’s okay.” He said slowly getting me out from under the table.

“I heard you scream and I found you under here. You never told me you were-” He was cut off by another flash of thunder and lightning. 

Once it sounded off I clung to him so tight I could’ve knocked the wind out of him. Thankfully he just chuckled and rubbed my back, kissing the top of my head.

“Oh love. Well I was gonna wait for my hugs and kisses till I got dry, but it seems all that can wait.”

I looked up at him annoyed thinking he was making fun of me a little bit.

He just laughed showing off his stupid cute grin.

“I’m only teasing, I apologize. I would really love a kiss though, Please?” He asked, smiling at me. Knowing i’d give in. I always did.

Although his lips were a bit rough his kisses were always dominant but soft. The best combination of war and peace was within his love. So much so that I didn't even take notice of his hands all that much, as they roamed all around my body squeezing and massaging my thighs up to my ass. He suddenly demanded more dominance. In which I gave into. All of this I allowed up until I needed air. 

His forehead met with mine as we both shared in a little laugh. I hummed in delight as I slowly raked my fingers in his soft, wet curly hair. Looking into his eyes I was fine again. The storm was no more and the flashes of lightning only frustrated me. Not being able to see the full nature of his eyes; how pale and yet full of lust and impatience. 

“I know what will make you forget about it...That is, if you’ll be alright with that..”

“Now you sound ridiculous. We’ve been together for so long Henry, and every time you ask me for consent. Granted, I love you for it and always will. Yet you know all too well that i’m all yours. Morning, nune and night. If the mood is right, that is.”

“You’re straight forward love. Mmm, that’s why i’ll always adore you.”

“Then show me. I don’t care how fast or how rough. Just have me.”

While it was difficult walking up the stairs we did make it to the bed. Unfortunately the same could not be said for our clothes. Once we were on the bed there was no letting go, no stopping what began. Just heat and passion that came out of nowhere. His strong hands held my hips as his cock slowly, lovingly slid into me. I figured he might be loving tonight.

As he moaned out he thrusted painfully slowly. Holding my legs in his hands as he looked down at my moaning form just taking all that he gave me. Calling out his name begging him to keep going. A Little faster, a little harder. Of course his loving nature wouldn’t last long as we continued. He leaned down kissing me as he hooked his arms under me drawing my lower half closer to his thighs and thrusting deeper into me at an angle I locked my arms around his neck screaming for him to finally fuck me faster. To which he obeyed. Whoever was dominant in our bedroom we would never know, nore did we care too much this time around. 

He was close. His cock throbbed more and more until finally like stripes of white ribbon he came within me. We didn't cum together though it was rare that we ever did. I was close though. He Kept thrusting into me until he rode out his high. I slowly let go of him and could vaguely see the evil smirk of his face from the lightning that flashed, as he lowered himself to my heat. He kissed around my thighs holding them within his warm strong hands, dragging my lifeless body closer to his mouth he started eating me out. I could only whine every so often and lick my lips as my back started to arch more. 

“Henry, oh my god yes baby, ugh yes.”

I chanted

“You love me Y/N?” He asked

“Oh yes baby. I love you so much.”

“Come for me. Tell me how much you love me.”

A few minutes after, I moaned out his name panting that I adored him more than anything. 

Our aftercare was religious. Cuddle for a while, just laying there. Then we’d take a bath when we had enough strength. After getting all moisturized we’d go to bed as though we hadn’t been fucking our brains out. Well more like me being a pillow princess as Henry conquered me. 

We would lay in the bed waiting for each other to fall asleep, waiting for the morning. 

I could get used to storms if this is how they ended up.

[oikoik]

the color of a bruise (part two)

warnings; cursing, pretty vanilla so far tbh

word count; 1626

a/n; can I please just say how much I love Ennoshita,, like he seriously doesn’t get enough love and support

(8:34pm, Karasuno Headquarters, Daichi's Office)

"She isn't cut out for this."

"It's not like she has much of a choice."

"The girl never asked for this lifestyle, she did what she thought was right. You can't punish her for that, Sawamura."

The tension in room was palpable. Daichi stood with his shoulders leaned against the wall. His sharp gaze was on where Ennoshita stood across his desk. The two held their silent pissing contest until Daichi let out a dejected sigh.

"Yes, but that Good Samaritan act just landed her a one way ticket into this mess."

"But-"

Ennoshita's reoccurring concern was cut short when another voice spoke in to reason. "If Daichi didn't find her, you know they would have…" Suga was sat in one of the chairs by the desk, his long legs crossed and a look of genuine speculation etched into the soft wrinkles of his forehead. "Besides, she saved two of our recruits, we owe her for that much... And we might as well use any of her abilities since she’ll be with us for awhile."

"But what does she even have to offer? All we know is that she can aim a can of fucking mace, it's practical to assume she has no real training,"Ennoshita's hands came to rub across his jaw, the uncertainty of the situation as a whole left him on edge. If there was one thing Ennoshita didn't like, it was unidentified liabilities.

"We'll figure it out as we go, but I'm not leaving her to be killed by them. She saved two of ours, so now we save her."

Daichi spoke with such a firmness that Ennoshita knew, even if he wanted to rebuttal the claim, the use of furthering the debate would be useless. He made his decision.

It was huge. So much larger than any house you had ever stepped foot into before. Your brain didn't allow you to gawk, however. It was far too focused on the adrenaline still pumping through your veins as the account of the previous hour circulated through your memory like a broken tape.

A job, a job, a job.. Maybe they need something fixed? What the hell could you fix?... No.. Maybe a secretary! You can type! But what use would they have for secretary?.. Shit! What did they want from you?

You were scattered, your mind a jumbled mess of paranoid delusions and worst case scenarios. This wasn't good, no. But you had to keep a level head if it were to take a turn for the worse.

You cast a watchful glance towards the boy who stood at the corner of the couch. From where you sat you could see that he was in fact one of the boys you had stumbled upon that fateful night. Under proper lighting, he looked cute. His freckled face and kind eyes made you feel a bit more at ease the longer you were forced to wait. You had tried to subtly get his attention through gestures, fearful to make any noise in the otherwise silent mansion, but his eyes remained glued to the floor in an unblinking stare.

That effort had been abandoned after your fourth attempt. You closed your eyes, willing the entire house to vanish when you opened them again. If you had any such abilities, they were clearly against you tonight. When you had reopened your eyes, you nearly yelped at the new additions to the room.

Sat on the pristine white sofa across from you sat a man with neatly style silver hair. Beside him was another man of larger stature and dark eyes. He watched you with a searching stare. You were so caught in keeping your guard up that your heart skipped a beat when the silver-haired man spoke,

"Relax, we aren't going to hurt you."

The dark-haired fellow softened his gaze as he rested his elbows atop his knees. "What's your name? Your full name."

"Y/N L/N." You cringed at the sound of your own voice. It sounded broken and afraid--and while that may be the case, you'd prefer to not have your captors be aware of your current state.

"Okay, Y/N, tell me what you're thinking."

The scoff you let out was second nature. Were you the only one who realized how batshit insane this whole thing was? Most likely. "I think this is a sick game you're playing. Saying you won't hurt me just to build up my trust, and then when I least expect it, you'll have me begging for a life that was never promised." Somehow, despite the racing heart inside your ribcage, you looked up to make eye contact with the brunet.

What shocked you was that despite the chiseled features of his jaw and muscular frame, his eyes were soft as they looked at you. "I can assure you, we have no intention of bringing you any harm. I am a man of my word, and if you would like, I can explain everything in detail."

"I just want to go home."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Miss L/N."

Your heart nearly exploded in your chest. You hadn't noticed the third person enter. He was of average height and build, with dark ebony hair combed neatly away from his forehead. His features were colder, more serious than the other two. You didn't like the way he looked at you as if you were the cause for all his troubles.

But then again, maybe you were.

With wide eyes, you stared at the men on the couch as panic thrummed in your veins. The brunet leaned closer towards you, the palm of his hand was opened as if he were gesturing for a wild animal to calm down. "Relax, I can explain what's going to happen, but you need to settle down first."

Although oppositions nested in your brain, you willed yourself to find any last shreds of composure. You prayed they failed to notice the tremor of your hands as you clutched them tightly in your lap. You gave a small nod.

"My name is Daichi. These are my associates, Suga and Ennoshita. We work in a… taboo field of business. The two boys you had met a few night ago, Hinata and Yamaguchi, also work for me. Does this make sense so far?"

You gave him an uncertain glance, but nodded nonetheless.

"The man that had cornered Hinata and Yamaguchi works for a different… business, and he had real intent to do harm to them. Thankfully, though, you acted with bravery and helped them escape. However…" He paused.

You didn't like the way he paused. Your eyes searched his features for any giveaways. The rationale in your brain told you to dig deeper, demand to know why he was so hesitant about telling you these things, what any of this has to do with you. But your tongue was glued in your mouth, and what came out was the voice of someone defeated, "However?..."

"Because of your actions, you now have a target over your head as well."

In that moment, your heart seemingly ceased to beat. The breath in your lungs dissipated and your mind went white as the words sank in. "What- what the hell does that mean?" You feared you already knew the answer.

"It means, whether you want to believe it or not, you're wanted by one of the most powerful gangs in Japan."

You weren't sure who had said it. Most likely Ennoshita, but your mind was only able to make out two words; wanted and gangs.

Your eyes burned. It took a moment before you realized tears were falling down your cheeks. You didn't rub them away, you didn't try to hide. You merely felt. Felt the coolness of them as they rolled like rain down a window. Felt the hole in your chest become a gaping void. Felt as your world seemingly fell apart.

It was weak, a plea for help, for stability or support. It came from the deepest parts of you, and it was pathetic, "What have I done?..."

Daichi stood from where he sat to kneel in front of your slouched figure. His hands were large, they could easily grab onto you and put you out of whatever misery was coming your way, but instead, they were gentle as his calloused fingers laid atop your own. "I gave you my word that your safety is in the hands of me and my men. You saved two of mine, so now we will save you. Deal?"

When you managed to meet his gaze, you found warmth in the browns of his eyes, a deep level of comfort you never expected had you nodding solemnly.

You notice out of the corner of your eyes that the boy from earlier had reappeared. When he left, you never noticed. But now, his eyes finally looked at you. In them, you saw the same glimpses of sympathy etched into his features. You were quick to look away.

"Yamaguchi is going to take you to your room. You'll be staying here until it's safe for you to return home. I'll send someone to your apartment for clothes in the morning. Go get some rest. We’ll discuss everything else in the morning."

Being told you would have a bed to sleep in was easily the best news you had received all day. You didn't pay any attention to the vast interior of the mansion or hallways as you trailed behind Yamaguchi. You didn't take in any details of the room as you entered, either. Your body merely floated from one place to the next until you were asleep on a mattress that was far too soft for a place so cold.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Might I request: “There is enough room for both of us” & "You're warm" (& I'ma be a predictable binch & ask for Valdo x reader) :3

A/N: Did someone say sick fic? Oh wait that was me. I hope you enjoy this lovely. :)Word Count: 1660Content Warning: Mild swearing.

Silence stretched over the two travelers as they walked down the road, their dappled pack pony plodding placidly between them.

“Remind me again why we bought this beast instead of mounts for the both of us?” Valdo asked, his sharp tenor the first sound either of them had made in hours.

“Because the only thing we could afford two of was donkeys. And you said your dignity would not suffer an ass,” you snapped, rolling your eyes before muttering under your breath. “So instead I have to.”

You weren’t sure what had brought on the mood you were in, whether it was how tired and sore you were from walking or the gloom of the damp, chilly day, or something else entirely, but you honestly worried that if you did not reach the next town soon, you might throttle your companion, no matter how much you loved him.

“Ah yes, I recall now. I still say that horse trader was trying to swindle us. No matter, the market in Vizima will be much better.”

“Only if we ever get there.”

The next thing you knew, you were stopped short as you crashed into Valdo. You shot him a glare, wondering how he had managed to circle the horse to stop short and invade your personal space without you noticing.

“Alright, Y/N,” he said, frowning. “What on the Gods’ green Earth is your problem?”

You sighed. “I am tired. We’ve been traveling for days without sight or sign of anyone else on this stupid road. Everything hurts. My eyes feel like I’ve been rubbing sand in them for fun. There’s a storm on the horizon. And I’m fucking freezing. So can we please keep walking? I’d like to make it to the city before I die.”

Whatever Valdo might have said in response was cut off as you sneezed, sniffling pathetically after. Immediately his cross expression dropped as he reached out to place the inside of his wrist against your forehead.

“Wha…what are you doing?” you asked looking up at the curly-haired idiot like he had grown a second head.

“You’re warm.” He stated as if that was any answer. “Y/N, my darling, why didn’t you say you were unwell?”

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling your face flush. “It didn’t seem to matter that much. There’s nothing to be done but get to town anyway. So can we…?” you made a ‘keep moving’ gesture.

He frowned and then turned to the docile pony munching on grass that peeked up through the stones of the road, shuffling bags around, taking some off and setting them aside.

“What are you doing Valdo?” you asked exasperatedly.

“It won’t be the most comfortable ride, but I won’t have you exhausting yourself and making it worse,” he explained, shouldering several packs.

“It’s a cold, I’m not an invalid!”

“Sundrop, please. Your equine escort awaits. If you won’t care for your own health then do it for me.” He pressed his graceful hands together in a prayer-like pose and gave you that irritatingly irresistible pout. You sighed in defeat.

“You know there’s room enough for both of us.” You said as you climbed up into the saddle, shifting around to awkwardly settle between the various packages on the pony’s back.

“We both know that’s horseshit. Especially with all our stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, or rather at the swear passing his lips. Usually he was lovingly exasperated at your coarse language and not one to use it himself. He caught your glance and shrugged as if to say ‘odd circumstances allow odd behavior.’

“Pony shit actually,” you said with a smirk and another sniffle. “But I guess you’re probably right.”

He chuckled and shook his head ruefully, taking the pony’s reins in hand and leading off down the road at a slightly brisker pace than you had been going.

~

By the time the gates of Vizima came into view, an early night had fallen and the howling wind had both of you pulling fur-lined cloaks close. Your pony’s head was bowed miserably as icy torrents of rain poured from the sky. You shivered violently despite the layers, the chill weather heightening the effects of your fever.

Still, Valdo insisted on pressing inward toward the center of the city in search of “a decent inn.” You had half a mind to start begging to stop literally anywhere just to get inside when he finally found one that satisfied him, The Bee and the Bottle. As soon as you passed into the yard an eager straw-haired boy of maybe seven ran out, offering to take care of your pony, words whistling through the gap of missing front teeth.

You felt hands wrap around your waist, gently lifting you down and then steadying you when your feet touched ground and you swayed. Wobbling with exhaustion and cold, you turned to the child.

“You take good care of Spot here, alright?” you asked ruffling his hair and causing him to giggle. “If you do, I’ll see about sneaking you some sweets before we leave.”

He nodded eagerly at your offer. “I promise, I’ll be extra good to ‘im and make sure all his tack is shiny and clean. You’ll see.”

“And see if you can’t find someone to bring our bags to our room?” Valdo tried to keep the order out of his voice and found himself smiling as the boy saluted him before leading the creature away.

“Spot? Really dove?” Valdo whispered in your ear as he led you into the inn by the elbow.

You shrugged peevishly. “If you had named him when we bought him you could have called him whatever you wanted. I could have done worse.”

~

You sank gratefully into the luxurious bath, letting the road-weariness melt from you and the lightly minty steam work into your sinuses and throat to soothe their sting. Valdo’s fingers worked their way through your hair, massaging your scalp but you frowned, noticing their clumsy motions, no sign of his normal nimbleness. Reluctantly you pried your eyes open and twisted to look at him.

Immediately your eyes fell to his blue-tinged lips and you sighed. Your fingers curled around his wrist and you both gasped at the temperature difference between your skins.

“You’re useless to me if you freeze to death love,” you teased. “Why don’t you get in the water and thaw out?”

“Y/N,” he groaned. “I am supposed to be taking care of you. I can’t just take your bath.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that. There’s room enough for the both of us. Please?” You cast your most pleading expression up at him, knowing that he was weaker to your charms than he cared to admit.

Without a word, he began unbuttoning his damp shirt (having discarded his doublet earlier in expectation of helping you wash). You smiled softly at him before settling back in against the wall of the tub. Moments later, the water sloshed as Valdo slid in beside you, long arms wrapping around your middle to draw you against him. He pressed his lips to your temple, beard tickling where it brushed your face.

“Oh sweetheart, you are definitely feverish. As soon as you’re washed,” he lathered soap into a cloth and began to sweep it over your shoulders and back as he spoke, “we’re getting you straight to bed. I’ll have the innkeeper bring you some soup, and tea. Something herby and probably horrible tasting that will chase this sickness away.”

Valdo Marx was many things, but you knew he was not necessarily the most nurturing of men and the prospect of caring for you while you were ill was daunting. The fact that he was doing it at all was truly special, so you hummed in appreciation for his ministrations, leaning in to his touch and doing your best to comply with his wordless requests for movement until he was satisfied that you had been fully bathed.

As the water cooled to a tepid temperature, he reluctantly exited the tub, gathering up a particularly plush towel to wrap around you, sweeping you into his arms and carrying you to the bed. He gently dried you off and helped you into your favorite nightshirt (which he noted wryly was actually his missing shirt which you had claimed months ago not to have seen).

“I feel the need to remind you,” you said, stifling a yawn, “I am not an invalid.”

“Hush, love. And lay down. Rest.”

A series of violent sneezes shook your body and he found himself torn between fretting over you and admiring the truly adorable noises you made.

You groaned as you recovered your breath from the fit and relented to the idea of curling up in the many layers of blankets that invited you. As you snuggled down, you clung to Valdo’s hand, not letting him get up from his seat at the edge of the bed.

“Stay,” you murmured. “I need you to cuddle me.”

He smiled, soft and longing. “And why is that angel?”

Even as he asked, he shifted the covers to allow him to slip in beside you, curled around you like a cat.

“Because I’m still so cold. And you’re warm.” You burrowed closer, pressing your bodies together to sap as much of his body heat as possible, and he was content to let you.

His embrace tightened around your shoulders and he tucked your head up under his chin.

“Your wish is my command. Try to get some sleep.”

He pressed his lips to the top of your head and you closed your eyes, safe and content. He listened to your breathing for a while, intent for any rasp or stutter in the air, only relaxing when he heard it begin to settle into the slow, steady pattern of sleep.

Just as he was drifting off himself he thought he heard you mumble “I love you” and his lips curled upward blissfully.

[oh-its-souichi]

Ultra- Violence

Part 4 

Overhaul X Reader 

Yo! 

l--o-n-g---a-n-g-s-t-y--f-a-n-f-i-c--a-h-e-a-d.

Yeah I gave myself to much credit this series should be finished in a few days.  

Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, physical abuse, drugs, Overhaul’s a bit ooc but eh,  LEMON (which I am absolute trash at writing so I kept it EMBARRASSINGLY short) , this part is long and the grammar is shite. Sorry. 

You stood prim and proper as always a kind and loving smile on your face completely void of any thought or emotion. At this point you didn’t even fell human anymore. You felt like an empty vessel. None of your senses worked anymore like they had been zapped away. 

Your arms and legs were numb 

Your head foggy 

Your ears unable to hear what was going on around you 

Hell you couldn’t even understand  word he was saying like you had completely forgotten how to comprehend your native tongue. Well that was until he uttered his last sentence. Six words you would never imagined HE would string along, forming them purposefully in a sentence. “You what?” you stuttered dropping your hands at your size, your mouth agape.  

He raised an eyebrow at your boldness repeating himself, giving you the benefit of the doubt. “I want to start a family.” He repeated. All the language skills you had built up over the years abandoned you leaving you to stare blankly at him, your mouth trying to from some semblance of a ineligible pronouncement. ‘A family!’ you screamed in your head. To bring a kid into this, no, his world would be nothing short of cruel. 

The likely hood of him wanting to bring the kid into the world for the pleasure of being a father was slim to none. If anything he would probably use it in an experiment as he had your parents. You didn’t know why though. He could barely handle being around adults let alone some germ bag kid. You paused your words your brain ticking at the word. Germ. That’s it. 

“Children are so dirty my dear” you said snaking your way across the room and to his side. Mimicking the same moves he pulled on you when attempting to be charismatic. “Can you imagine the sickness they would track home and infect everything with?” You allowed your voice to seethe as you bent down practically whispering the last part into his ear. 

Your voice made goosebumps raise up on his shin and he was reminded of the sensation of your lips against his. Playing along with your game he pulled you down onto his lap, running a gloved finger along you jaw, making you shiver at it’s tenderness. “But it would be from you my darling. They would be pure” his voice was plain as usual but you could hear what could only be.. adoration? 

You looked into his eyes watching them sparkle with something. Did he mean what he was saying? or was there something motivating him. A shadow of a plan that lurked beneath his coy words. “No” you said feeling the danger of your utterance. The twinkle in his eye you saw seconds ago faded away his eyes hardening in it’s place. 

The room around you went completely silent. 

He stared into your eyes making you shift uncomfortably on his lap, tempting you go hop off and run for the door, escaping out of his confines but he cleared his throat before you could work up the nerve. “Well that’s to bad my dear” he said.

Painstakingly slow he drug his hand up the back of your neck and into your hair, his touch like a million little kisses, like the feeling of feathers on your skin. It made you woozy, it made you want him. He continued up, making sure you felt how could he could feel against you until he got the the middle of your head and stopped. He toyed with the idea your obstinance was due to the the loss of your mother and that he should pardon your bad behavior but immediately shoved the idea away. He was never one for forgiveness anyhow. Suddenly he slammed your head into the arm of the coach, his masked face void of any emotion.

You gasped at the pain that engulfed your face, blood flowing out of your nose.

Tears begged to leave your eyes but you didn’t let them.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Why would I want the father of my children to be someone like you.” you spit your voice muffled by the coach. He ran his fingers calmly through your hair staring blankly in front of him.

“Someone like me?” he questioned pressing your face harder into the coach causing more blood to gush out of your nose. “Someone who can’t love.” you said calming your nerves. He sounded genuinely curious. “You’re fucking sick. What kind of child wants a father who can’t even love their mother.”  

 He went silence for a moment seeming to mull what you said around in his head. “On the contrary my angel.” he said shoving you off of his lap and onto the floor, your body thudding harshly on the carpet. “I adore you” he said his voice laced with sadness and disgust. You let your head hang allowing the blood to drip onto the ground, staining the creme carpet. You knew how much your dearly beloved hated blood. You scoffed looking up to him only to see him turn his head away refusing to look at you. ‘Typical’ you thought bringing your hands onto his knees. “Why won’t you look at me? Am I to dirty for you" you breathed extending his name. His eyes hardened, fury growing evident on his face. 

Harshly he grabbed you by your hair yanking you to your feet.

He wanted to kill you. He wanted to watch your blood splatter your body exploding before him, popping like a water balloon for being such a pretentious bitch and bleeding all over his floor. He didn’t act on that desire though. You were to rare to kill.  Instead he studied your face loathing the blood that streamed out of your nose the bruise that was forming on the bridge of your nose. He had done it again. He was staining you.

“I adore you” he said letting go of your hair, allowing your body to fall back to the ground. You blinked in amazement. Watching him walk away. “Go to your room and bath. Be sure you are ready for me when I come to visit you.” You sighed giving up. You would never win. He waited by the door holding it open for you, waiting for a response.  “Yes dear” you said weakly standing up and walking past him and out into the hallway. He hummed pleased “Now go into your room. I will bring your noon meds. soon.” 

You nodded solemnly walking down the hallway and into your room. 

....

A few hours later, the meds. given having warn off, you sat sobbing quietly in your room. Your swollen eyes watched rain drops streak down your bedroom window. 

You had been focusing on a specific pink flower that seemed to be getting berated by the heavy drops, the tender little plant rocked clumsily with each impact. It  looked like the pedals would fall from the stem and rot on the ground below but you suddenly remembered how resilient flowers were. You had no reason to worry. 

To the right of you- you heard your door slam into the dresser you had used to barricade yourself in your room with, in an attempt to keep people, well, him out. 

“Y/N” he stated obviously unamused “Remove your dresser from the door now.” Ignoring him you continued to stare out the window wishing so badly that you had been born that pink flower. So you could have been planted in Overhaul’s garden, close enough to know who he was and for him to acknowledge you but far enough away he could never hurt you again. Part of you wanted to laugh at the thought. 

You sounded pathetic. 

Maybe you were

Having been so wrapped up in your own thoughts you didn’t hear Overhaul demand you to open the door once again. At your silence he sighed going nd fetching Chrono and Nemoto who were awaiting his instruction in his office. They heeded to his request and left to deal with you. Overhaul on the other having predicted what your reaction would be when the two men busted down your door stopped by is lab to retrieve a more potent tranquilizer. The medication required an injection so patiently he prepared the necessary supplies he would need to preform the shot. Methodically he retrieved a clean syringe and pushed the tip into the bottle of Midazolam he head placed on one of the counters.  

As he slipped the needle in he heard the door crack open followed by a weak scream. He pumped the liquid inside of the syringe cringing as he heard you continue to protest. “Let go of me!” he heard you sob your voice muffled. 

He wished you would have been reasonable and opened your door so he wouldn’t have had to go to these lengths but you forced his hand. He didn’t want to allow Nemoto and Chrono to lay their filthy hands on you but you were so goddamn stubborn. It pissed him off that you would disrespect him after everything he had done for you.’Ungrateful’ he thought walking down the long corridor until he reached your room. 

The sight he walked in on disgusted him.  Chrono and Nemoto had you roughly pinned to the bed, your hair was strewn around wildly while your extremities were shaking. “Continue to hold her tightly” he said his words feeling like acid in his mouth. “I’m going to be giving her an injection.” At his words you thrashed around until Nemoto shoved his knee into your back causing you to cry out in pain. “Nemoto Be gentle with her please” Overhaul said circling around the bed until he was at your side. Feeling his presence you let out a defeated sigh and relaxed under the grasps that held you. “It will be okay my angel” he said stroking your hair before calmly injecting the serum into your arm. After the liquid was dispelled into your veins, you relaxed.

Your precious body going limp. 

“Release her” he told the two men, catching you in his arms before you slipped off of the bed and hit the ground after they let go. Lovingly he lifted you onto the bed, he knew your skin was crawling with his assistants filth but that could be dealt with after you got some rest. 

...

When you woke up your head was throbbing, a pain like knives plunging into your skull. Weakly you groaned slapping your hand to your forehead. “Oh my gosh” you sighed at the pain at the pain finding it hard to focus your eyes. Desperately you looked around your, from what you could tell, dimly lit room. All the furniture that you normally would have been able to see was blurry almost like there was a thick fog surrounding you. “What did he give me’ you thought sadly hoping this wasn’t permanent. 

There was a cool breeze hitting your face filling your nose with the scent of rain. Involuntarily you felt your body take a deep breathe in reveling in the freshness of the air. Now that you thought about it you couldn’t remember the last time you had a breathe of fresh air. Overhaul didn’t let you outside and the window in your room was barred shut prohibiting you from opening it. ‘How is the air getting in?”  you thought attempting to sit up but collapsed back into your pillows. A groan escaped your lips and you tried again to no avail. 

“Are you awake angel?” you heard Overhaul say his voice like medication to your throbbing head. “Yes dear” you said swiftly not having heard him come in and attempted to sit up but stopped when your body began to shake.Overhaul watched you struggle his blank face covered by a thin black mask. He wore black pants and black button up shirt with the sleeves still rolled up from giving you a bath as well as dealing with his other experiment. 

He placed your meds as well as a cup of water onto your bedside table and helped you sit up, positioning your body against your head board. “Are you experiencing any discomfort?” he asked taking his hands off of your body, satisfied with your position. “My head hurts a bit and I can’t see. My vision is blurry” He hummed figuring the tranquilizer hadn’t worn off yet, nothing to be concerned about. “Take these. I included a pain medication to assist with the pain” 

Compliantly you downed whatever ever was in the cup desperate for some relief  and took a swig of water feeling the pills trickle down your throat. There was definitely more than usual but you didn’t care. After swallowing the last pill you sigh softly and blindly placed the cups onto the nearest hard wood surface. 

The coolness of the liquid seemed to bring you back to your senses. 

.As your eyes cleared you could see a new white door hanging off the hinges where your old one used to, your dresser tucked neatly against the wall. Embarrassment seeped into you cheeks, turning them red. “Thank you” you said to him hoping he would gloss over your mental breakdown, not that he was one to do that. “Anything for you” he sighed making you cringe. Here is comes you thought casting your eyes away from him to the window expecting his hand to latch onto your scalp and ripe you off the bed and hurt you until he thought he had punished you enough. 

Overhaul’s eyes lingered down on you taking in your face. You looked different than before almost... sickly. Your eyes were hallow with sadness, your skin sunken with the amount of chemicals he had forced into your system. Not that you were repulsive. Far from it. Even drugged up you were ethereal. 

Curtly he cleared his throat. “I had to do that to your parents angel. You know that right?” he said. You exhaled sadly once he pronounced the ‘S’ at the end of parents. ‘I’m sorry dad’ you thought picturing his face.  “Please not now” you sighed. He sat down beside you grasping your hand “No, you need to tell me you understand” he said a bit of desperation in his voice. 

You didn’t answer, not knowing what to say and let a silence fall over the two of you. Outside you could hear the rain continuing to thump off of the roof and you wished you were out there to feel it. He scooted your head closer to his mouth, his touch inciting a fire in you. ‘I love him’ you thought your eyes rolling back at the silkiness of his voice. “I did it for you” he said tucking some of your hair behind your right ear. “Because of them I am one step closer to riding society of it’s sickness and making it safe for you to live in, safe for our children to live in.” he said placing a render hand on you stomach making you flinch. 

He had never touched you like that. 

Before you knew it you found yourself leaning into his chest, the steady thrum of his heart beat soothing you as another wave of drowsiness hit your body. “if you refuse me though angel, like you did earlier, their deaths would mean nothing” he whispered into your ear. Your eyes widened in horror. 

In the distance you could hear you conscientiousness screaming, begging you to reject the poison (bullshit) but you ignored it being drug back by his voice. “The sacrifice they made was for you. They wanted us to be happy in a healthy world. Your not going to disrespect them by throwing that all away are you?” he said pushing you lightly away. 

‘How could I have been so selfish?’ you thought feeling guilt rock your body, tears welling up in your eyes. “Of course not!” you said embracing him in a tight hug, sweetly surrendering to him. He jumped slightly at your touch but calmed and smiled underneath his mask.

 He knew you would understand. 

“Save your tears angel” he said raising your head from his chest. Gently with his thumbs he brushed away your pesky tears, seeing the helplessness in your face. He had you in his trap. becoming completely dependent on him as he always wanted. You nodded and he could see your eyes wrinkle telling him you were smiling at him from underneath your mask. Gingerly he discarded his mask setting it on the bedside table then repeated the action and took off yours placing it next to his. 

Remaining still you watched his movements feeling a cool gust of wind run up your exposed back. You turned you head to the window only to have it brought back by his ungloved hands. He cupped your face carefully kissing you. 

Goosebumps erupted on your arms, spreading across your chest and legs. Without giving you time to adjust to this sudden display of affection he caressed you down onto the bed, his body hovering over you. Your head hit the soft blankets, his lips never leaving yours. He swiped his tongue across your bottom lip making you moan softly. 

 Cautiously you tangled your hand into his brown hair loving how soft it felt intertwined with your fingers. He responded by trailing soft kisses down your jaw and neck lingering on your collarbone before nipping at the skin. 

You moaned at the sensation feeling himself lift his body off of your and begin to strip off your nightgown. “Overhau-” you went to say before he cut you off. “it’s Kai” he stated sitting you up so he was able to pull the gown over your head. “Kai” you repeated back. 

He almost shivered at how beautiful his name sounded when leaving your lips. It almost made him want to bring it back so he could hear you say it all the time. You made it sound so clean. “Yes that’s my first name. Please use it wisely.” he warned. Whether it be the medicine he had given you or the rush you got from his skin against yours. but you found yourself giggling cutely at him. “Kai” you repeated. “I like it” 

He leaned over and kissed you tenderly on the forehead before standing up and removing his clothes. Neatly folding each article of clothing and setting it on your dresser. 

You stared in awe at his exposed chest, the skin had always been hidden away from you. A gentle smile spread across your face and you motioned for him to come back. With a shaky breathe he did so. Crawling back onto the bed he separated your thighs with each one of his knees positioning himself between them. You could already feel the wetness of your core and looking down at Kai you saw he was plenty ready as well. He shot you a cautious glance as he lined himself up with your entrance. Seeing his hesitance you nodded and smiled lightly seeming to give him the confidence he needed. 

Pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead he pushed himself inside of you shivering at the sensation. “Kai” you moaned feeling him pump himself steadily in and out of you his eyes never once leaving your face. He was so beautiful. You felt your cheeks flush under his charming gaze small moans leaving your mouth. 

 Silently he worshiped the little sounds you made, revering the way you moaned his name quickening his pace so he could hear more. 

The two of you continued on well into the night until he met his release and collapsed on top of you breathing heavily. You ran your fingers through his hair appreciating the small moment between the two of you. “I adore you” he said lowly, relaxing under the feeling of your fingertips massaging his scalp. 

[waypathfinder]

Crimson Lane - Chapter 13 - The Long Dark Night (Part 2)

Moodboard by @ashtyntaytertot 

Beta’d by @kathknight and @ashtyntaytertot

Links

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Archive of our Own (from the start)

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Chapter Text 

Rain trickled down the tinted windows of the black Mercedes Vito. Within, Kylo rested his head against the back seat, listening to the gentle roar of rubber tyres on wet bitumen. Gloved fingers threaded and eyes closed. Head bobbing as though he were sleeping.

The van sped from the red-light district of Mustafar. Streetlights beamed onto Kylo’s face, the shadow of rain dancing across his features. The van weaved through the darkness until the lights became sparser and the road rough. Telltale signs they were coming into the rundown region of Jakku. 

They came to a stop and Kylo opened his eyes. The door of the van slid open and the smell of musty rain pitted against dry streets flooded the interior.

“Ren,” Dom said, voice quiet. “We’re here. The guys are waiting for you inside.”

Kylo nodded. Dom wasn’t like the others. At five foot seven, he was the smallest of the knights, contracted by Snoke for tech work and driving. He was a gentle soul with a crooked smile and a love of small wonders, bugs mainly. Snoke had busted him hacking into his archives four years ago. Then, he’d been given the same sentence as Kylo: Freedom, at a cost. Now Dom had a string of offences that were far worse: fraud, embezzlement, hacking and sabotage. He couldn’t walk away now, even if he wanted to.

Kylo stepped out into the gutterless street, pulling the collar of his jacket up around his neck as he dashed across the pavement. The road was unnaturally dark and eerily quiet, with wisps of steam rising from the surface.

That familiar blue door was as dark as the ocean floor now, the edges of it cracked and splintered, where Hux and the knights had kicked through the lock.

Kylo reached out, ready to push it open.

“Wait!” Dom held the barrel of the gun, handle outward for Kylo to grasp. “You’ll need this.”

Kylo furrowed his brow, taking it slowly. “Don’t ever hold a gun like that.”

“I trust you, Kylo.”

“You shouldn’t trust anyone here, least of all me.” He took the gun carefully, checking the safety was in place, and slipping it beneath the waistband of his trousers.

He pushed the door again and this time the hinges creaked loudly and with a strained breath, he stepped inside.

Blood.  

It was everywhere.

On the floor, on the walls, the stench of it acrid and sweet in the air.

“Holy shit,” Dom whispered behind him.

“You don’t need to come in.”

Dom nodded, backing away, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll wait outside.”

Kylo kept his head straight, staring ahead with half-closed lids.

Drip, drip, drip . The rain was leaking through the hallway light, creating a pool of water on the hall rug. Kylo stepped over it. A gust of wind pushed the door open from behind him, as a draft crept down his back in an icy chill. He turned around.

He was alone. But still, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling something or someone was walking with him.

Ahead, there was a light in the living room, with the shapes of Hux, Kane and Seth, hovering around a central figure.

He froze in place at the sound of Lor’s weary words spilling out.

“I already told you, I’m not working with anyone. It's only ever been me. I used old access codes and--”

“That’s not really true though, is it?” Hux’s weaselling words followed. He turned to his knights. “Gentleman, help him remember.”

LIke a cackle of hyenas, Hux and two of the knights circled around Lor, who was tied up in his dining chair. Kylo set his jaw in place, resolving to show no emotion at the sight of his Godfather bruised and bloodied, the hair of his beard burnt and the skin beneath it raw and glistening. Kylo looked through him, to the wall behind, forcing out the sight of the broken man.

“Well, well, well. So good of you to join us, Ren.” Hux marched to him. The son-of-a-bitch didn’t have a single hair out of place. Meanwhile, the rest of the knights were puffing, knuckles red and splattered with dried blood.

There was an emptiness in the air and inside him. From some far-off place in his consciousness, Kylo could hear the stoic guard of the grandfather clock, bearing witness. Each tick, counting down the seconds San Tekka had to live.

It was too much, and the old man’s head dropped to the side, staring at the floor, pink saliva dripping from his cracked lip.

“Did you get anything?” Kylo asked, trying not to flinch at the sight of Lor's pathetic form.

“Actually, yes.” Hux walked over to the dining table. The one Kylo had sat at mere hours ago. His glass of water, still there, untouched.

“Here.” Hux handed him a small cylinder-shaped USB drive.

Kylo stared at it for far too long. There was no mistaking it. He had hidden and protected that piece of hardware for the last four months, using every moment Snoke had left his laptop unlocked to carefully steal information from it and on to the drive. It had everything he needed to bring Snoke and the First Order to justice once and for all. It was the only way he could make Snoke pay and release everyone else he had trapped in his vicious cycle of crime.

And there Hux held it in the palm of his hand like it was nothing. Without the drive there was no escape, Snoke would always find him and hunt him down. Kylo had tried to run away once, as a teenager… it had not ended well. He still had the scars to prove it. There was no choice but to stay now and continue playing the game, waiting to be caught or killed.

Kylo’s world was crumbling around him; everything he had hoped to put into place was now crashing down like a landslide. He cleared his throat, blinking back the hint of tears.

“What’s on it then?”

“Everything. You, me, Snoke. Every underhanded job the First Order has ever done.”

Kylo nodded, slowly, eyes transfixed on the drive. “It’s a good thing we found it then.” He pocketed the drive but Hux reached out.

“It’s a good thing I found it.” Hux reached out with an open palm, waiting.

“Come now, Kylo. Finders keepers.”

“I’ll take it back to Snoke myself. He’s expecting it”

“You’re right, he is expecting it, which is why he asked me to deliver it personally .”

Kylo pursed his lips, reluctantly placing the drive back in Hux’s waiting palm.

Hux’s fingers closed around it quickly, sliding it into his own trouser pocket.

“You know, there was an awful lot of dirt on you. You should be thankful it didn’t find its way to the press.”

“We all are, I imagine.”

Hux chortled. “Yes, I suppose so.” And then he looked around the room, pulling Kylo aside. “There’s no way San Tekka would have had access to this kind of information. You know what this means?”

“There’s someone else on the inside.”

“One of the girls, perhaps?”

“It’s possible.”

“I’ve been working on him for hours, but the son-of-bitch won’t talk. Maybe you can be more convincing.”

Kylo looked over at Lor thoughtfully. His godfather. The man who had cleaned him up after his first school fight so his mother wouldn’t scold him, the man who was there for them when his father couldn’t be, the man protecting him, even now.

“He’s weak. If he knew anything he would have talked. Anyway, Snoke wants him dead.”

“Hmm,” Hux mused to himself. “It seems like a waste.”

There was a flicker of movement from the dining chair, as Lor coughed himself awake. Kylo nodded his head towards him, indicating that they should be quiet.

“What do I care if he listens to any of it? He’s a dead man anyway.” He turned to Lor, pointing his finger in the shape of a gun. “You hear that, old man? We’re going to blow your fucking brains out. That’s what happens when you cross the First Order.”

“But first--” Hux squatted in front of the man – “you’re going to tell us who you're working for?”

Lor’s mouth opened and closed.

“No one,” he answered hoarsely.

Hux stood, wringing his hands with impatience. “I’m growing tired of your lies!” He nodded to the right and from out of the shadows, one of the knights stepped forward and punched him on the side of the skull.

Lor’s head dropped forward, as a cry of pain escaped lips. Seemingly grasping onto the last threads of strength, Lor turned to Kylo and peered at him with those old blue eyes, with understanding and resolve.

“Tell us!” Hux screeched.

Another blow to the head, this time from Seth Ren. He was a newer member of the fold, one of the few whose lusts for violence and money had lead him to seek a job from Snoke directly. Once the sound of knuckles cracking against bone had subsided, Seth readjusted a bloody ring on his finger and stepped back into the darkness.

Kylo gnawed at the thumb of his glove. A habit he hadn’t done since he was a kid. The

other hand, reached behind his back, feeling the cool, matte handle of the pistol.

“We can do this all night, old man.” Hux gestured for another one of his men to step forward.

“No one.” Lor’s lips mouthed the words. And then he shook his head, raising tear-stained eyes to Kylo.

He had nothing left.

And he would never break.

”Please.” The words came out empty, a breath of air, gasping. But Kylo heard it, deep in his heart, in the dark places of his mind where his nightmares lived and breathed. He would hear that word for the rest of his life.

Kylo shook his head, the motion was barely there, a silent message. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t—

“ Please! ” This time Lor found his voice, desperate and broken.

Kylo squeezed his eyes shut for a pause and when he opened them, Lor’s gaze was reaching out to him. Begging.

Kylo pulled the gun from behind him, levelling the barrel so it was aimed between Lor’s eyes. “Time’s up, traitor.”

“Wait!” Hux jumped out in front of him, gleefully pulling out his phone and setting it to record. “Smile at the camera, maggot.”

“Stop it,” Kylo said between gritted teeth.

“Come on, San Tekka. I want to see a big smile while we put a bullet in your head.”

Kylo’s hands shook; he was so close to grabbing Hux and slamming his face into the window. He breathed again. Centre. Control . He needed to stay in control.

Lor whimpered, forcing a weak smile onto his lips.

“There now,” Hux beamed at him, holding the camera steady.

Kylo pulled the trigger, slowly, inwards…

I’m sorry.  

The grandfather clock counted down: Three, two, one.

“No, wait!” Hux shouted, reaching out, but Kylo fired the shot.

And it was over.

Kylo would come to remember two things from that moment. One was the way the bullet drilled so neatly into the front of Lor’s head, ripping through skin, skull and tissue until the back of his head exploded on the floral and lace curtains behind. And second, was the way Lor welcomed death. Not in fear or regret, but like an old friend. His eyes genuinely smiled and there was light in them.

In the end, it wasn’t Kylo he was looking at, but behind him, to something that gave him a purpose to die. And for a long time after it happened, Kylo wondered whether he saw the woman he loved. Whether the prospect of an eternity with her made his death feel like a homecoming.

The gun released a shallow breath of smoke and the room fell silent, filled with the acrid tang of gunpowder. Kylo pocketed the weapon behind him once more, struggling to push it beneath his belt with quaking fingers. The moments, after all, played out like the blur of a nightmare. Hux and the knights spoke enthusiastically, raiding the fridge, emptying Lor’s liquor cabinet and sharing the contents.

“Well done, Ren. I didn’t think you had it in you,” Hux said, an edge of a surprise to his voice. “Snoke will be pleased.”

Kylo nodded, like a puppet on a string.

“Here.” Another knight, he didn’t even see who it was, slapped a bottle of vodka in his hand. “Drink up.”

The next few minutes played out at mixed speed. In some ways the entire world had slowed, the sounds around him pushed into the background, his own thoughts loud and demanding, and the next minute his mind was empty and then there were other people talking, their voices rising and falling, their drinks filling and emptying, laughing as they cleared out any valuables and smashed photos and threw teacups against the brown wallpaper. They were drunk.

Drunk . Kylo opened the bottle, pouring the contents into his mouth, enough that his cheeks were filled and the sharp alcohol dribbled down his chin.

Hux slapped him on the back. Snoke wanted to speak to him, congratulate him on the job. Kylo nodded, answering in monosyllables.

Hux sidled up to him, lips curled in a devious smile. “You know the rules, the one who spills the most blood, cleans it up.”

Kylo swayed, he hadn’t drunk enough to sway, but something in his body was struggling to stay upright. “Fuck off. Do that yourself.”

“No can do.” Hux tapped on his pocket. “I need to get this back to Snoke.”

“This is not your victory,” he hissed a Hux, gripping his fingers into the man’s forearm, aiming to bruise. Hux’s phone beeped with a message and he pulled the phone out, holding it in front of him like some peace offering.

“That’s him now.” Hux checked the message, smiling coyly before turning the screen to show Kylo.

Kylo can clear the evidence. I expect you back here in 20.  

“Tough break, Kylo.” Hux beamed at him. “I’ll see you back at the whore house.”

One by one they left, even Dom, who had come sometime after the gun went off, decided to wait outside, saying he was going to hurt if he had to look at the splatter of brains on the window any longer.

Once they were gone, Kylo sunk down on his knees. Head raised, eyes lowered, forcing himself to see the body, to memorise the way the blood flooded out of his head. He tried to breathe, but his chest caved in on itself and his eyes stung with tears.

There it was. He was a murderer. Whatever the reason, whatever excuses he would tell himself in the dark of night, that much was true and nothing he could do would ever take that away.

He was about to let it all go, to stop fighting the bleeding tears that wanted to stream from his eyes, to roar, and beat his chest, and rip this place apart. He was at the gates, about to let it all spill out when the phone in his pocket began to vibrate on silent.

He pulled it out. Unknown number.  

He pressed answer, and waited.

Rey leaned against the window of her room, watching the rain fall softly against the street lights. Had it really only been four days since she’d waited in this very spot for her first client? The mysterious Kylo Ren, who didn’t want her to look, touch or ask questions.

Four days and everything she’d felt about him had changed. Into what, she wasn’t sure. Her world had been shaken and broken, everything falling back into different places, feelings shifted, beliefs challenged. Her own personal earthquake.

She closed her eyes, squeezing them until they blanched with dissipating colours. The creeping fingers of dread taking hold the longer she waited...

Where are you, Kylo?  

She shook her head, staring out into the black expanse, studying every shape and movement in the street below. Mindlessly reaching into her pockets and twisting the lining of them until her fingers brushed against the small folded note Kylo had given her.

She pulled it out, unfolding it. There was no name, or note, just a number.

Should she?  

She didn’t have much battery left, but there was enough, at least, for this.

She dialled the keypad quickly, in case she changed her mind.

It rang. Twice.

The phone on the other end of the line answered. Silence.

“Kylo?” she asked, cringing at the way her own voice was so weak and uncertain.

There was a beat, and then a rushed, “Rey, are you safe?”

“I’m fine, but I—” She rolled her eyes at her own words. But what, Rey? What exactly is the reason you’re calling?  

“Look, It’s not a good time.”

“Kylo,” she whispered into the phone, holding it close. “Please tell me what Snoke is making you do tonight.”

“Rey…” he began cautiously.

“Or just come back. Please, come back.”

“Rey…”

“We can do whatever you want. Anything. Hey, I’ll let you beat me at Risk if you want.”

A laugh, muffled, strained and not altogether genuine, filled with emotion that shouldn’t be there and then silence, again.

Pained, heavy silence.

“Don’t do it,” she pleaded.

Her phone beeped, warning her that she was about to run out of battery. It wasn’t enough time.

“I don’t understand what this thing is between us, Kylo, but it’s more—”

It’s more than professional, than friends, unfettered raw attraction underlying something deep and rich. A connection and longing that was slowly filling the empty places in her heart. She didn’t know how to say it. It was too soon. She didn’t know enough about him, and what she didn’t know certainly shouldn’t make her feel like this.

“It’s more than—” her words failed her.

“I know,” he almost whispered.

Rey closed her eyes and smiled, eyes filling with tears.

“Come back,” she said through a muffled sob. “Please come back to me.”

The sound on the other end dimmed into quiet, in the background she could hear the light tapping of a clock, it’s regular rhythm contrasting against the random pitter-patter of the rain.

“I have to go.” That voice, stronger now, resolved.

“Oh, okay.”

“Bye, Rey.”

“By—” The phone went dead, even as her answer hung in the air.

She stared at the blank screen and saved the contact, “B”.

And then she waited.

On the woolskin rug by the fire, leaning against the window, in the shower, lying in bed, body naked beneath the smooth silk sheets.

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

And then she finally heard a knock at the door.

She leapt out of bed, the sheet draped around her body, bare feet sliding across the cool

wooden slats.

The knock sounded again and she walked faster, heart pounding, hand outstretched to the door handle.

She reached forward, curling her fingers around the cold metal handle and then—

She stopped dead.

Kylo had the keys.

Shit. Shit. Shit.  

The silence was louder than ever, only broken by the sound of rain, lashing against the window on whips of wind.

A knock, again. Harder. It made the door rattle, and Rey took a step back, eyes wide.

Again, and then a voice, low and guttural.

“Open the door, Rey.”

She froze. How could she be so stupid? Had he heard her coming to the door?

��Rey,” the voice sterner now, but still laced with the overtone of deceptive kindness. “Open the door now, it’s your boss, Alistair.”

She took another step back. Eyes darting from the window to the door, to the bathroom. Searching for an escape...

“I know you’re in there, little minx,” he crooned. “Open the door, and we can have a chat. Just a talk, nothing else.”

The door handle rattled again, but this time she could hear the sound of keys scratching against the lock.

She stepped backwards, fist to her mouth, heart racing. The door handle shook, being tugged this way and that. Pushed, pulled, and then more keys, scratching against the handle, and low, hissing curses.

She held her breath, eyes closed, listening to the sound. Waiting for the familiar click...

“Open the door your little bitch,” he growled. And this time he kicked at it, the base of the door giving in slightly with every blow.

Rey backed against the far wall, chest heaving with every breath, eyes darting around the room for anything she might use as a weapon.

“Rey,” Snoke sang to her.

“Rey.” His fingers, pawing at the door.

“Do you think you can turn him, pathetic child?”

She closed her eyes, not daring to move.

“I cannot be betrayed.” His voice coiled around her. “I cannot be beaten. I know his mind. I know the darkness in his soul.”

Those words, like poison, how long had he been destroying him, ripping away his humanity, turning him into a weapon for Snoke’s own causes?

She hated him. Hated Snoke more than she had ever hated any man.

And she was not scared of him.

She came closer to the door, head raised, shoulders back.

“You underestimate Ben Solo,” she said firmly. “And me.”

He chuckled, cruel and callous. Rey fought the urge to open it, to face him herself. Skywalker had taught her well. She knew her own strength and Snoke was alone.

“The sad thing is Rey, you don’t even know the half of it. What he’s already done to you.” Lies. He was lying to her. He had to be. “What he’s doing tonight.”

She covered her ears, not wanting to hear.

“He’s a murderer, Rey.”

“You’re a liar.”

“You will see, when he comes home dripping in blood, wanting to fuck you like the whore you are,” he laughed. “You will see.”

Once he was alone, Kylo vomited into the kitchen sink, the sting of vodka burning his throat. Hands shaking, he looked back at Lor, laying on the floor, body relaxed, jaw open, staring at him.

He wanted this.  

Murderer, his mind whispered, and an unsettling cold seeped through him.

He begged you to do it.  

Kylo took another drink of vodka, heat rising in his lungs as it went down.

He was so sorry. So fucking sorry for all of it. He dropped to his knees, breath heaving, ignoring the way the blood pooled around his legs, the way Lor just stared at him with an empty expression.

There was only one thing left to do now.

He pulled out his phone number and dialled.

After a moment’s pause, a muffled vibration began to sound from within the clock. He trudged over to it, rivulets of blood clinging to his boots, the reek of it clinging to his clothes. Opening the case cabinet, he reached inside and pulled Lor’s phone out.

At least he had time to hide this.

He hung up the call and searched through the message threads until he found one from Poe. They were supposed to meet later tonight, in twenty minutes to be exact.

He had to leave. But first—

He typed a message.

The First Order has taken the USB drive. It had everything on it. Kylo Ren’s here. Not much time. He knows about Rey, he’s going after her. Tell her to run for her own good, she needs to get away from him.  

His thumb hovered over the send button. He had to make her run. His plan had failed and she wasn’t safe there, not without him. Not even with him.

She deserved better.

He hit send and almost instantly three little dots started dancing at the bottom of the screen, indicating that a message was being written in response.

Poe    : What’s happening? Are you okay?

He didn’t reply, dropping the phone to the side and walking away.

“Hey, Kylo.” Dom was standing in the hall.

Had he seen what he’d just done?

Their eyes met, analytical and silent.

“We should go.”

Kylo nodded, directing one last look back at Lor.

“Stop at the bar on the way home. I need a drink.”

“You and me both,” Dom said, but there was something unsettled behind his smile and Kylo wondered if, despite everything he had done, this final act had blown his entire cover.

Rey waited with her feet planted on the floor as Snoke’s laughter had followed him down the hall. Once she was sure he was truly gone she ran into the bathroom, splashing water on her neck and head, staring back at the colourless face in front of her. The face that was tired of hiding, of being scared. The face of someone who was ready to fight.

She retrieved her phone from beside the bed and dialled Poe’s number.

The phone rang once.

“Poe Dameron.”

“Poe, it’s Rey.”

“Oh my God, Rey, are you—”

“I don’t have any time, my battery is down to 1 percent and I can’t charge it here.”

“Wait, Rey, this is important you need to listen to me—”

“No,” she snapped. “ You listen to me! They’ve gone after San Tekka.”

“I know, I’m going there right away, but Rey—”

“I’ll do it, Poe. I’ll help you bring down Snoke,” she said in a rush.

The phone went dead and she smiled, satisfied that if nothing else, she had gotten this message out safely.

The rain was falling in lashing sheets by the time Kylo returned to number 12. He collapsed out of the van, and would almost have fallen flat on his face, had Dom not steadied him at the last minute. The red lamp above splashed his face with red shadows as he pounded on the door.

“Kylo Ren.” Phasma opened the door with a surly stare. “What’s the emergency?”

He pushed past her and through to the booking diary, scanning the evening’s vacancies.

“Do you mind?”

He grunted in response and she snapped the diary closed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Are any of the girls available now?”

Phasma looked disdainfully at the blood now smeared on her desk. She pulled a cloth from under the desk and cleaned it up, glaring at him as she did so. “Don’t get fucking blood on the desk. It’s bad for business.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

Phasma raised a solitary eyebrow at him. “You’re pissed.”

“No shit, Sherlock. A girl. Tessa. I don’t care. Any one of them. Someone who knows the rules.”

“Sure,” she said slowly, as if the concept was too difficult for him to understand. “Are you looking to double up?”

Kylo’s entire face furrowed. “No, I just need one.”

“Well, go and fuck Rey, then. That’s what you’re paying her for.”

“Rey?” he asked. She shouldn’t be here. Poe would have warned her by now . “Rey’s gone.”

“What on earth have you taken, Kylo? She’s upstairs, waiting for you.”

Why was she still here? The question carried him up the stairs. Had she not gotten the message? He was going faster now, leaping up the steps in twos, using the railing to propel his body faster. And if she had, and she was still here, then what did that mean?  

He pulled out the keys, dropping them on the floor until he found the right one and shakily put it in the lock. With his heart hammering in his chest, he sneaked in and closed it quietly, careful to lock it again.

The room was dark, apart from the soft glow of street lights shining in through the wide windows. She had left the curtains open, and as the light reflected through the glass he could make out her handprint smeared on the window.

A small puff of air leapt from his lungs, something between a laugh and a cry. He followed the path from the window to the bed, where there was a trail of clothes on the floor.

Kylo tilted his head to the side as he stared at Rey’s dark hair flowing freely over the pillow, the white sheets framing the outlines of her body, curving over her waist and hips, stretching out over her left leg, the other peeking out from beneath the sheet, silken smooth. Bare.

There was a sensation of light in his chest, weightless and warm. He stepped forward and her right arm curled over the pillow, hugging it close to her, at the same time the sheet dropped exposing the side of her breast.

Naked.  

She was naked.  

Blood throbbed at his core and he came closer. This time, the floorboard creaked and she sat upright, clutching the sheet around her body and darting her eyes through the darkness.

“Kylo!” she hissed. “You scared the shit out of—”

He was standing in the streetlight, austere lines of it mixing veins of light and darkness across his body and she bent her knees up to her chest, shuffling back. The whites of her eyes wide and unnerving.

“You’re--you’re covered in blood.”

He looked down at the burgundy stains on his clothes, damply sticking to the hard lines of his body.

“Why are you here?” he sneered, reaching behind his back and pulling out the gun. Without a care, he threw it to the ground and Rey jumped as it slid across the floorboards.

She gasped as it hit the wall. “What are you thinking?” She turned the bed lamp on and glared at him. Her face told him everything he needed to know, that and the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

“Why do you have a gun?”

He walked away, ripping the clothes off his body like they were on fire. In the bathroom, he let the water wash over him, watching the way it was stained with bright pools of red. Crimson droplets ran down his body, catching on the hairs of his leg. His breaths became heavy, shaking and constrained, as his hands scratched violently through his hair. He couldn’t stop shaking, even though the water was so hot that it scolded him, even though his chest was flaming with red lashes from the heat.  All he could see was the rivers of blood, flooding around his feet, running eddies of swirling pink spirals.

Tears streamed down his face, silently, and he gasped for air. His mind was exploding, eruptions of pain and regret and hate, the emotions overcame everything else. He needed to explode, to pound it all away. To force the reality back into the locked vault, where he kept all the hateful and cruel things he had inflicted on others. But the door was opening and the demons were escaping. And there was only one way he knew to lock them away again.

He turned the shower off, grabbing a towel that hung on the wall and wiped his face and hair with it. All the while, he advanced on her. She must have seen it in his eyes, in the manner in which he stalked, quiet and purposeful, more like a hunter than a lover.

She edged back, shaking her head.

“You spoke to Poe tonight.”

She refused to meet his eye, looking to the left and onto the door.

“And you’re still here?”

“You practically locked me in here, remember?” she snapped.

“You were always a fighter,” Kylo gave her a half-smile, but it was cold and empty. He reached the edge of the bed and kneeled up on it. “That’s what I love most about you. You never take anything lying down.”

The bed creaked with the weight of his body and his towel dropped. Rey’s lips parted, and her eyes fleetingly dropped below his navel. Her face flushed at the sight, realising how much he must have wanted her.

The weight of her gaze made him jolt and grow, but when she met his gaze again, there was fear there.

She feared the monster, and well she should, for he was a murderer, a violent, black-hearted ghost.

He remembered the sound of his old name on her lips, how his heart flipped and jumped at the way it came so natural and right.

But it was all a lie.  

“Turn the light off,” he said quietly.

He had merely forgotten who he was.

“Do it,” Kylo pressed her

She didn’t move.

But tonight had made it all rush back to him.

Ben Solo was dead.  

He reached his hand toward the light. The room plunged into darkness.

And Kylo Ren was the villain.

[hnrywinchester]

Fare Thee Well - - 16

Summary: She hasn’t seen Gabriel since he died nine years ago, then a phone call changes everything.

Pairing: Gabriel x OFC

Series Warnings: ANGST, smut, swearing, PTSD Gabriel, Character Deaths, Canon Compliant

Beta’d by: @aquietuniverse

Words: 4.3k

Time was standing still. Liv and Rowena sat in the library of the bunker, and the silence was unsettling as Lucifer sneered at them, his eyes traveling between the two of them. Liv was one step away from despondent. She’d just sent the love of her life off on some suicide mission into a world she’d never be able to get to if anything happened to him. She’d spend the rest of her life trying, that was for sure, but deep down she knew she’d never get there. It was hard to consider that that could have been the last time he kissed her, or smirked at her or made some crude, sexual joke. He very well could have just told her he loved her for the last time. Now seemed like the time she should be committing him to memory, the sound of his voice, the golden flecks in his eyes and the way his fingertips danced so gently across her body despite being powerful enough to destroy entire civilizations at will. Those were all things she was going to want to remember, needed to remember. She mentally kicked herself for not snapping a single photo of him before he left, her phone had a damn camera on it but the thought of preserving that shit-eating grin forever hadn’t passed through her head until now. “Sidelined eh ladies?” Lucifer mocked, rage burning at Liv’s cheeks at the sound of his voice, “Kinda… misogynistic no? Leaving the women behind in the kitchen while the men go off and fight for glory.” Liv rolled her eyes, at this point she wasn’t sure which fate was worse, death or being stuck with Lucifer for an extended amount of time. Maybe it was one in the same. “I’m disappointed in you,” he continued, turning his attention onto Liv, “I didn’t take you as the type to let your boyfriend order you around. Thought you had more stones than that.” “Do you ever shut up?” Liv snapped, kicking a chair in his direction. With a shrug and a smug smirk at her failed attempt at hitting him, Lucifer laughed, “Typical Gabe, tryin’ to be the hero. Know how many times that’s worked? Zero. Kid can’t even save his own ass never mind anyone else’s.” “Maybe I wanted to stay behind. Marvel in the sight of you all tied up and useless, bleeding out like a pig on a spit.” “Oh, feisty. He always did like the lively ones. Honestly though, now that we’re here, I’m glad it happened like this. I think we need to get to know each other better. I mean we are family now, right? I have to make sure you’re apt to be around my son-“ “We are not family. Not now, not ever.” The thought sent a wave of nausea into her stomach. She found herself fantasizing about Gabriel finishing him off once and for all while simultaneously wishing he’d been able to do it when he had the chance earlier that morning. “What? You’re my brother’s wifey now, that makes us, what do they call it?” Lucifer droned on, his nose wrinkling up in confusion, “In-laws?” “Absolutely not,” she seethed, teeth gritted. “Accept it sis, you’ll see me at Christmas dinners from here on out.” “Not a wifey, one.” “Ah, but you will be! In whatever sense you two figure out. Don’t think I can’t see into that conflicted, melodramatic head of yours. You’re better than that. I see Gabe’s little lovesick eyes looking down at you when he said he’s gonna marry you.” Lucifer feigned a gag, and Liv fought back the urge to lunge at him, plunge the angel blade tucked into her jacket through his sunken in chest a few times. Like she needed the reminder of that little snippet right now. At the time she’d laughed it off, he was ridiculous and lame and corny, but now she saw an allure to it. Maybe it was just the thought that this eons old bachelor, the party boy, the pornstar for fucks sake, had even considered completely and irrevocably devoting himself to her that had her swooning, but if he really did ask she knew what her answer would be. You’re fucking insufferable,” she groaned, not wanting to egg him on further. “Whoa, geez. Okay dude… that hurts,” Lucifer whined, his face overacting offense. “This is how I die, isn’t it? Annoyed to death by Satan himself.” “What a way to go.” Moments ago she missed Gabriel, but now she was cursing his existence. What was he thinking leaving her here with this pompous asshole? It’s like he didn’t even know her at all. He should have been well aware that being stuck for hours, days on end with Lucifer was going to end badly. One of them was going to end up marred, beaten or dead. Rowena not ending up in the crossfires was her goal at this point. “I need a drink,” Liv stated, turning her attention to the witch watching on to the soap opera with a perturbed gaze, “Do you want a drink?” “Yes. Please,” Rowena groaned in agreement, throwing her head down onto the table. “What you want?” “I don’t care, whatever they’ve got will do just fine.” Spotting the liquor cabinet, Liv ran from the two pairs of prying eyes. Once she was out of sight, her breath huffed out in relief. Everything was spiraling out of control faster than she could reel it back in. Self-destruct mode was very much activated and no matter how many alarms were going off in her head she just couldn’t switch it off. She wanted Gabriel. It wasn’t some inherent need that she’d waste away without, it was purely an insatiable craving her soul was pleading for. It begged for his arms and his safety and how he’d know exactly what to say right now to make this whole unbearable situation completely tolerable. She wanted his lips and his wandering hands and that soft look he got in his eyes when she did something completely ridiculous, that look that screamed ‘you’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on’. Maybe it came down to solely just wanting to feel… wanted. She’d wandered aimlessly her entire life, not quite finding her niche, until that honey-haired Trickster came around and showed her what it felt like to be loved. Grabbing the first three bottles she could find, Liv headed back into the library and was shocked to find Lucifer silent. Assuming he was just planning his next verbal war with her, Liv placed the three bottles down in front of Rowena and resumed her seat back at the table, propping her feet up onto the table. “Dealer’s choice,” Liv sighed, throwing her head back in exasperation. “You got old, Liv,” Lucifer taunted, causing her to groan at the unbearableness of this situation, “Like, really old. What’s it been like nine years? Red over here looks better than you and she’d got a couple hundo’ on you.” “Jesus Christ,” Liv mumbled under her breath, downing the entire glass Rowena had passed to her. Whiskey. Thank God. Before the tumbler had even hit the table she was already sending it back towards the witch for a refill. “I mean, gray hairs, wrinkles, I can’t even imagine the scars. It’s not a good look,” Lucifer continued with that nasally tone of his, “I’m shocked he didn’t run right past you when he saw you. You’ve seen some of his former conquests, right? Never knew how he did it… but wow. And then there’s you.” “Well Lucy,” Liv began, licking the burn of the whiskey off her lips as the devil grimaced at her nickname, “I’ve heard you’re quite the looker yourself these days. I mean, this vessel is cringe-worthy enough, can’t imagine what’s underneath is much better.” “You don’t want to know,” Rowena cautioned, smiling as she side-eyed Lucifer. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Liv was really starting to like Rowena. She now saw why the Winchesters had yet to put a bullet in her brain. “You two are awfully chummy,” Lucifer noticed warily, “I don’t like it.” “Go on then, keep insulting us poor wee women. Anything to distract yourself from your profound, deeply emasculating humiliation,” Rowena tacked on, the smugness in her voice sending a little swell of pride to Liv’s heart. What neither of the women in the room saw, however, was the bindings holding their captive in place flickering as their self-satisfied giggles echoed across the cement walls. They didn’t know what he did. Enough rage, enough anger and he didn’t need grace to break this pathetic spell-work. One of them would crack. He’d been working on Liv but she was shockingly holding her own against him, maybe it was time to move onto good old Red. When he burst into song, digging through his archives to find the most obnoxious one he knew, their synchronized groan only egged him on further. Just a few more hours, and they’d both be goners. This world was a nightmare. There was no other word for it. As Gabriel marched on, leading the way for himself, Castiel and the Winchesters, he couldn’t help but feel displaced. The rain pelted against his leather jacket, his golden blade dripping as he thanked the universe for keeping Liv at home. This whole place gave him the creeps, and that didn’t happen very often, if ever. The ever-present darkness and gloom had him glancing over his shoulder every few seconds, the silence eerie enough to set his instincts on high. So this is what the world would have been like if the Apocalypse had happened. This may be the only instance where he was happy people didn’t listen to him. He’d been rooting for this for a little while there. Castiel stayed in step with his older brother, staying silent as Liv’s words echoed in his head. Dead or alive. He knew that she wouldn’t survive losing him again, getting Gabriel out alive had to be a top priority. “What’d she say to you?” Gabriel asked from beside him, almost as if he was reading his mind, “Before we left.” “She… she asked me to bring you back, “Castiel confessed, “Dead or alive.” Gabriel’s chest constricted at Castiel’s disclosure. She was under no illusions, and he knew that, hell he’d probably helped that train of thought along with his little final goodbye monologue he’d given her before taking off. Yet hearing that she’d pleaded for his dead body to be returned twisted his stomach. He pictured her face at the sight of Castiel carrying his limp, bloodied form back into the library, the wretched, soul shattering scream that would erupt from her chest echoed in his head. The ghost of her fingers trailing across his face traced over his skin, he could feel her memorizing his features, the ones he always thought so lowly of being some of her favorites. She’d kiss the round tip of his nose, run her thumb along his bottom lip that sat just a little too deep under his upper one as she’d plead in her head to see his eyes one last time. The thought of her losing him was almost as unbearable as him losing her. “Gabriel I… I need to ask something of you,” Castiel asked nervously, snapping Gabriel out of his turbulent thoughts, “Please just, hear me out.” “Okay…” Gabriel dragged on, eyebrows furrowing. “Heaven is dying. There are only a handful of angels left in all of existence. We need you help-“ “You already know the answer to this Cas. I’m not leaving her again. Plus, heaven doesn’t want me back. As far as they’re concerned I’m a screw up. Hell, as far as I’m concerned I’m a screw up.” “Well, heavens been run into the ground by upstanding angels. Perhaps a screw up is just the change we need.” “I can’t.” “If heaven dies, Gabriel, the consequences will be monumental. Millions of souls will come crashing down to Earth, vengeful and displaced. Whatever semblance of peace you’re considering would be lost. She’d be called back to war and die fighting, just like the rest of us. Except you.” “She isn’t dying.” “One day she will, and then what? Where will she go if heaven is obsolete?” This was not the place or time to be talking about this. Gabriel’s nostrils flared as he subdued the reflex to hurl Castiel against the nearest tree by the lapels of that ridiculous jacket he wore for thinking now was a good time to bring up Liv dying. He knew she was going to die one day, she was human after all. What he hadn’t planned on was all of his brothers being taken out, leaving him with no one to do the deed for him. No heaven to go to? So what, she was just going to walk around in the veil until someone burned her bones? He’d be damned before anyone took a lighter to her. There was another way to fix this all, there had to be. What did heaven expect him to do? Run the joint? “Stop. Just, stop! I can’t talk about this right now. I can’t run heaven, Cas. I can’t. You need some grace to fill the tank with, take it. Take all of it for all I care. But I’m not my father. Never was, never will be. Find someone else,” Gabriel panicked, his voice frantic. “There is no one else!” Castiel implored, his desperation growing. Castiel knew it was hopeless. He wasn’t going to leave her behind. Granted, he knew it was a slim chance to begin with but nothing Castiel had said had been untrue. If heaven fell, the world would burn. He glanced behind him, watching as Sam and Dean were deep in conversation as they followed. If heaven fell, Dean would be in danger too. This was an impossible situation, but what obstacle that stood in their way wasn’t? A scream in the distance gained the attention of all four men, all sharing a glance as they formed a small circle. “Not our world, not our problem, right?” Gabriel shrugged, hoping that these idiots didn’t want to play savior to everyone. The singing had yet to cease. It’d been hours. Liv had her head pressed into the cold wood of the table, the decanter of whiskey practically drained in her right hand. She’d given up on glasses a few hours ago. Her head was swimming, the usually delightful buzz from this much booze couldn’t even settle with the American Idol Reject bellowing on and on and on. Such a waste of really good whiskey she was sure Dean was going to be livid she cleaned house of. “Just kill me now!” she cried, theatrically throwing her head back. “That can be arranged!” Lucifer chimed, breaking from his tune just long enough to get the words out. “I need a break.” As she walked from the room, the singing ceased. Figures. How Rowena was keeping her cool through that atrocity was beyond her. If she had some way of making magical ear plugs and wasn’t sharing there was going to be hell to pay, that was certain. She meandered her way to the washroom, exhaustion from hours of boredom and anxiety finally kicking in during these moments of peace. As she waited for the water to warm up, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She had gotten old. She’d never really paid any mind to it before, but after hearing Lucifer dissect each and every one of her flaws they were glowing like beacons now. Maybe it was high time to get a box of dye from the pharmacy, she thought, as she realized those single grays in her temples were colonizing now. Gabriel hadn’t seemed to mind any of it, but, she really was no where near the level she knew he was used to. Back in the day, when they’d first met, she’d never considered herself a looker but she saw none of that girl in the reflection staring back at her now. It was truly a wonder Gabriel had even recognized her at all. Her eyes continued to inspect herself and when they drifted to her neck she noticed one of Gabriel’s careless marks he’d left along her throat. No doubt it was from their anger-fueled romp in the back of her car just that morning, they’d certainly thrown all caution to the wind and the evidence was staring her in the face. She ran her fingers over the welt, her chest tightening as her mind focused; the panic she’d been harboring reared its ugly head again. Gabriel. The archangel. The Trickster. The man who could fuck her in a rest stop bathroom and still make her feel like a queen, who loved her, above all other things, gray hairs or not. The man who would die for her, that would sit in hell for close to a decade in hopes of keeping her safe. The man she’d let wander off into an unknown world, prepared to die if he needed to, alone. The man that she loved, with every fiber and cell of her being. It was too late now, even if she tried she’d never find him over there. She was stuck here, in limbo, not knowing if she’d ever see him again. The steam from the running faucet had fogged the mirror she’d been staring into before her thoughts wandered. She shook herself from her wallowing, wiping the condensation from the glass, her worn-down reflection coming into sight once again. Knowing it was time to return, she shut the faucet off, not even bothering to splash her face down as she’d intended, before turning and heading back to the library. Her stomach was growling, but preparing food seemed tedious, there were bigger issues to be concerned with right now. The closer she got, the more she swore she heard… shouting. She ran, skidding into the library to find Rowena screaming at Lucifer, a handful of his hair locked between her fingers and the ropes of magic restraining him beginning to flicker. Whatever was happening was about to release the devil on them both. “Rowena! Stop!” Liv warned, but it was too late. The cords snapped and Liv watched in horror as Lucifer rose to his feet, grabbing the witch by her throat as his eyes blazed red. She was frozen in fear. This whole time she’d been worried about Gabriel dying, she’d never once considered that it might be her kicking the bucket. “Ah, Red. You shouldn’t have made me mad. Step into my office. Livvy, be with you in just a sec,” he sneered, his words barely audible over the sounds of Rowena’s gasps and chokes. In a flash the two were suddenly against the wall, the thud echoing through the room. Liv knew she needed to act, and quick, but she saw no real option. She had no weapon handy, she knew no magic, she was stuck. Instincts kicked in however, and she ran towards the devil, willing to do whatever it took to get his hands from Rowena’s throat and hopefully give her enough time to do whatever it was that she could. “You know… you and Gabe, you kicked me when I was down. I didn’t have any fight. I didn’t have anything to live for. But you… you… you gave me something to fight for again. My boy. So for that, I’m going to be quick-“ Lucifer droned on, Liv’s hands grabbing his shoulder stopping him short. “Defendatur!” Rowena called, effectively forcing Lucifer away from her. What Rowena didn’t know, was the passenger he’d taken with him. “Sammy!” Dean cried, following Castiel down the dark passage after his brother. Gabriel ran after them, but stopped short as he came beside the small human girl they’d picked up just hours before, his heart stopping. When he looked at her, he didn’t see the wayward survivor, all he saw was Liv. His brain begin firing off images and horrors, his head twitching as he fought to keep them at bay. He saw her bloody and lifeless on that warehouse floor, he heard her calling to him just as Sam had for his brother, her voice filled with fear. Gabriel! He watched as her lifeless body was dragged down that corridor, the monster’s hissing and snarls ricocheting off the walls. She’s not here. She’s not here. She’s not here.  He whispered the words under his breath like a mantra, doing his best to control the terror icing his veins as he watched Castiel return empty handed. Sam was gone. Liv would have been gone. He would have failed. When he saw Dean’s face, he felt that sorrow deep in his own heart, and selfishly a small hint of gratitude that it wasn’t he who had lost everything. He needed to get home. No more lost orphans, no more side missions, he needed to see her, feel her, again. “Dean, we should go,” Gabriel reasoned, knowing Castiel would never be able to take charge over this situation, “we can’t stay here or you’re all toast.” Dean glared at the angel, rage and despair mixed into his eyes, “Bet you feel real good about yourself right now, don’t you?” Gabriel looked at him confused, “What?” “Why can’t you save him!? If it was her you’d be barreling down that fucking…” Gabriel’s face fell in shame as Dean’s words caught in his throat. Even if he tried, he knew he didn’t have the juice. “Yeah I would, doesn’t mean I could fix anything,” Gabriel began, keeping his voice level, “I can’t, Dean. I didn’t even have enough for the spell, what makes you think I can raise the dead?” Defeat fell across Dean’s face as he grabbed Castiel by the shoulders, shoving him out of the way as he lunged at Gabriel. The archangel let himself be tackled by the hunter, their bodies tumbling to the dirt as Dean grabbed two handfuls of his jacket. Gabriel took it, knowing exactly how Dean felt, not like he could hurt him anyway. When a fist connected with his jaw, Gabriel could barely feel a sting, but as Dean’s hand came back down Gabriel stopped it with an outstretched palm. “What is this helping?” Gabriel yelled, “I’m sorry, Dean! But if we don’t keep moving, we’re gonna lose more than Sam and… whatever his name was.” Castiel came behind them, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder both in comfort and warning that if he continued, his brother was not going to stay this complacent for long. With a snap of his arm, Dean pulled his fist from the angel’s grasp and stood, adjusting his backpack and jacket, before silently taking off down the passage alone. Castiel held a hand out for Gabriel, helping him back to his feet before running after the reckless hunter before he got himself killed. Gabriel then looked at the poor human that was stuck in the middle of all of this now, her face was dripping with fear. “Come on, we gotta go,” Gabriel instructed softly, clapping his hand on her shoulder once. “Who is she?” Maggie asked, slowly letting one foot fall in front of the other as they started down the cave, “the woman, that you would save?” “Uh… she isn’t here. She’s back at home.” “She’s human?” “Yeah, she is.” “And you… you love her?” Gabriel nodded, wondering why she was asking these questions, but as he looked down at her face he saw the confusion and the wonder. She’d been living in a world where angels hunted and murdered humans, something like him was unheard of. They walked in silence from there on, catching up to Dean and Castiel once they’d come out unscathed from the tunnel. Gabriel’s thoughts again traveled to the thought of it being her left behind in that wasteland. He swore he could still hear her calling out to him, the sound fuzzy and staticky, like it was coming through on a bad signal. This world was strange, and he needed out. Her cheek was firmly planted into the wet ground, the rain cold on her skin, a twig poking right at the corner of her eye as she came to. She was on her stomach, laying on the ground outside. That made no sense, she was just in the bunker… As she pushed herself up and opened her eyes her heart damn near stopped. She wasn’t in Kansas anymore. This world was void of color, barren and desolate. About thirty feet away she could see the rift, shining brighter than even the sun was, and she took off running towards it. She wasn’t stupid, she knew that she’d never make it out of here alive stuck to her own devices. She was weaponless, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she’d freeze to death if some murderous angel or monster didn’t find her first. So focused on her destination, she was oblivious to the fact she hadn’t come over alone. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed her by the arm, effectively stopping her from crossing back through to the bunker and her stomach dropped. “Oh no no, you’re with me,” Lucifer sneered, “partner.” “Not a chance,” she spat in response, pulling on her arm in his grip. “Uh, you don’t have a choice. Like it or not sis, we’re in this together now.” With a sharp pull, Lucifer dragged her along beside him, and she knew there was no escape. Gabe… Gabriel…. GABE! She called and called but no answer came. Surely he wasn’t dead already, right?

TAGS: @idabbleincrazy @analisespn @nodistressdamsel @morganas-pendragons

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE PRINCE OF MARS (PART ONE)

SOUND: DOOR OPENS, BELL RINGS, RAIN.

MUSIC: STARTS.

CONCIERGE: Ah, good evening, Traveler! Welcome to The Penumbra. May I take your coat? You’ve picked an excellent place to spend the night, dear Traveler. The Penumbra is the grandest hotel this side of nowhere. Countless rooms and countless halls. Just look ahead of you. See the doors go on and on… even we aren’t sure how many there are, or what lies behind them all.

Will you be staying long? Many of our guests do. You’re in good company, Traveler. The Penumbra draws guests from everywhere and everywhen. And all of them have stories to tell. Stories that will excite you, delight you, and maybe even terrify you.

Don’t believe me? Well, see for yourself.

SOUND: KEYS JINGLING.

Detective Steel is at it again. This week he’s after a missing medicinal magnate. He’s dealt with plenty of missing persons before, and he says they all have one thing in common: the interesting part is never where the victims disappeared to, it’s what they left behind.

SOUND: THREE KNOCKS. CHIMES JINGLING.

What luck! It sounds like he’s in. Come, Traveler. Come with me into room J-13.

SOUND: DOOR CREAKING OPEN.

Juno Steel and the Prince of Mars.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: GONG.

VOICE 1: Youth. Is there anything more precious than youth?

MUSIC: STARTS.

For thousands of years, humanity has searched for a way to bottle youth, focus, energy, power. We’ve searched for fountains, electricity, exercise, but never have we looked to the past… until now. My people, the ancient Martians, knew the secret to endless youth. Focus. Energy. Power. These were the traits of every Martian, from lowly workman to king and queen. And today, I, the Saffron Prince of Mars, bring you these secrets: Focus. Energy. Power. From the ancient Martian sands, we bring you: Kokayee-ne.

Koyakee-ne: the focus of a mystic; the energy of a child; the power of an ancient. Now available wherever prescriptions are sold.

Kokayee-ne: from my people to yours.

Kokayee-ne: from Saffron Pharmaceuticals.

MUSIC: ENDS.

SOUND: BUZZING, RADIO TUNING. CLICK.

JUNO: Damn ads get longer every day.

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Hyperion City: the only place in the galaxy where you can buy a dime bag from a prince, all from the comfort of your personal vehicle. It’s convenient, sure.

SOUND: RADIO TUNING.

VOICE 2 (FROM RADIO): —and just for you we’ll throw in two tons of uranium-236, all for the low, low cost of—

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO (NARRATOR): But it does mean there’s never anything good to listen to. My name’s Juno Steel, and I spend a lot of time with my car radio. On stakeouts, listening in where I’m not wanted. Getting chased and starting chases. I’m a private eye.

I’ve picked up all kinds of clients during my decade and change in the P.I. business. Politicians, execs, celebrities, interplanetary criminals. But that day I was meeting with a very different animal: royalty.

MUSIC: ENDS.

SOUND: GONG, DOOR OPENS.

MUSIC: STARTS.

VOICE 1 [THE SAFFRON PRINCE OF MARS]: Juno, so glad you could make it! How long has it been? It feels like years.

JUNO: Probably because it’s been years.

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

PRINCE: I mean, look at you!

JUNO: I’d rather not.

PRINCE: Well, look at me, then. No, don’t. We’ve both gotten so old, Juno! How did we let it happen? I’d always thought… well, I thought what all young people think, the fools: that aging was just for other people.

JUNO (NARRATOR): He might have been right about that one. I last saw the guy ten years ago, before he landed the role of a lifetime as the face of Saffron Pharmaceuticals. Back then his name was Julian, his title was ‘hey you,’ and the strongest thing he tried to sell me was a double espresso. A decade had passed, and Julian still looked bright-eyed, soft-skinned, and twenty-five. A real achievement, given he was thirty when we met.

PRINCE: What were we up to, in those days? It feels like a lifetime ago. God, I must have been so pathetic. Was I pathetic? Tell me how pathetic I was.

JUNO: I’m gonna plead the fiftieth on that one. So you called me about—

PRINCE: No, no, hold on, I almost have it. Now I remember: in my jail cell!

JUNO: You were under house arrest.

PRINCE: The courtroom then. A thunderstorm! The prosecution railed against me, and you struck your fists upon the table and shouted, "No! I swear that justice will be served!"

JUNO: You never even went to trial.

PRINCE: You saved me, Juno. And back when I was nobody! You took my case when everyone was certain I’d killed that man, and you saved me from a lifetime of prison bars and cafeteria food and men named Hank with tattoos on their faces! I promised never to forget it on that snowy night, and Juno Steel, I never will. And that’s why I know you can save me again.

JUNO: Julian, I thought we had an agreement over the phone.

PRINCE: Oh, we do.

JUNO: You just said ‘save you.’

PRINCE: Did I?

JUNO: You did. Listen, I’ve got a few people you can call, but I’m not in the market for another murder, or smuggling charge, or whatever the hell else you’re up to. I’m looking for slower cases right now.

PRINCE: But this is a slow one, Juno! The very slowest, a glacier of a case, I promise you. But you have to take it! Please, I’m begging you, you must!

JUNO: A glacier, huh?

PRINCE: Uh huh!

JUNO: All right. I’m listening.

PRINCE: You know my husband?

JUNO: No, but I’m a fan of his work. Anthony DiMaggio, head of Saffron Pharma. I’ve had a few real good weeks I should probably thank him for.

PRINCE: Co-head, please. I own just as much of our company as he does, even if he refuses to act like it.

JUNO: Sounds like it isn’t all roses and royal banquets in the Saffron throne room.

PRINCE: It never is. I’m only angry because I love him. That’s not a crime, is it? To love someone so much you think you might simply come apart at the seams and burst?

JUNO: Depends on where you do your bursting.

PRINCE: You know I love him, don’t you?

JUNO: This is sounding real defensive. You should probably get to the point before I remember to forget this whole thing and get out of here.

PRINCE: Tony is missing, Juno. He hasn’t been home in a week.

JUNO: A missing persons gig? What happened to slow?

PRINCE: It isn’t anything dire – not for you, anyway. His ticker is still active; his pulse isn’t raised in any way that suggests a struggle.

JUNO: Did you really just say ‘ticker?’

PRINCE: Oh, you haven’t heard? Bleeding-edge technology, Juno. Some poor fools over at Lannan & Sons were accused of insider trading for selling their stock before telling the public about old Lannan’s most recent set of heart attacks. Tony and I decided to get ahead of the game and put R&D on the Saffron Ticker.

JUNO: You still haven’t said what it does.

PRINCE: It isn’t obvious? It reads key bio signs from whoever has it installed and puts them on a private feed for all of our stockholders to access. Oh, they’re simply all the rage amongst executives; the sense of security really makes the stock’s value soar.

JUNO: You don’t worry about whether or not someone could track you with that sort of thing?

PRINCE: Worry? (LAUGHS) Aren’t you darling! I’d be worried if it didn’t! That’s one of its primary functions.

JUNO: Oh.

PRINCE: You can turn that function off, of course. Everyone should be accorded some amount of privacy. (LAUGHS) This isn’t the 22nd century, after all!

JUNO: So I’m guessing your husband turned off his tracker. That right?

PRINCE: And this is why you’re the detective! Yes, Tony deactivated his tracker. For a full week now. The stockholders are starting to ask questions, and so am I. That man is going to have a lot to answer for when he comes home.

JUNO: So you want me to bring him home, then.

PRINCE: Never.

JUNO: Huh?

PRINCE: His pulse, Juno. I don’t like how it looks. Very calm, and then suddenly very, very active.

JUNO: I think I get what you’re driving at. How long is he, uh, ‘active’ for?

PRINCE: For hours at a time, two or three times a day.

JUNO: Isn’t that kind of a lot for… you know?

PRINCE: Not when we were first married.

JUNO: Ah. Well, at least you know he’s still breathing. But what makes you so sure this isn’t, I don’t know, a kidnapping, or something? Besides his… activity, I mean.

PRINCE: His checkbook is the only other evidence I have. A few hundred credits spent every day for the last three days.

JUNO: That could be anything.

PRINCE: I know exactly what that is, Juno. I was a struggling actor once. And if he’s run off, I don’t want to have anything to do with him anymore. He’d be a fool to run away from this. Who is the public going to follow? Him, or the Saffron Prince of Mars?

JUNO: Here’s hoping we never find out.

SOUND: BEEP.

JUNO: My invoice is in the mail.

PRINCE: Where are you going?

JUNO: Your husband’s office. Most cheaters put their gold and jewels in a safe hidden behind three paintings and a wall clock, but the phone numbers that could end them never get more than a rusty old lock on a desk drawer. Nine times out of ten if there’s an affair going on you’ll find all the evidence you need in the cheater’s desk.

PRINCE: And the tenth time? How do you catch a cheater the tenth time?

JUNO: With their pants down, usually.

PRINCE: That isn’t funny.

JUNO: See you later, Julian. Hubby’ll be home by breakfast. What you do with him then is your business.

MUSIC: ENDS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The central office for Saffron Pharma was exactly what you’d expect from a little mom-and-pop place like the DiMaggios ran. Three-story walls on all sides; land mines underneath dummy walkways; genetically engineered guard dogs that’ll lick all four of their lips as they watch you pass. Places like that are all bark and no bite, though. If you know what to tell ‘em, that is.

COMPUTER VOICE: Please state name.

JUNO: Julian DiMaggio.

COMPUTER VOICE: Please insert keycard—

JUNO: Or the Saffron Prince of Mars. Whichever you got on tap.

COMPUTER VOICE: Please insert keycard.

SOUND: BEEP.

Thank you.

SOUND: DOOR OPENING.

Have a good evening. Saffron Prince.

SOUND: DOOR CLOSING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Julian gave me that key on the way out, but a key only gets you inside. There was still plenty of security past the front door. First, the dogs.

SOUND: GROWLING.

JUNO: Here poochy, poochy. Got a nice little treat for you. See this? Still bloody and everything.

SOUND: DOG WHINING.

That’s it. Thaaaat’s it.

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.

There. No such thing as a free meal, Fido. You remember that.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The land mines were next, but I had that covered.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Mista Steel, you did not just shoot that poor doggie!

JUNO: He didn’t feel a thing. I set my blaster to stun first.

RITA (FROM COMMS): You promise?

JUNO: I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s on stun. Seventy percent sure, easy.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Mista Steel!

JUNO: Can it about the dog, Rita! The map. Do you have the map ready?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Oh, the map! Right!

SOUND: KEYBOARD CLICKING.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Let’s see… how many paths are there?

JUNO: Half a dozen.

RITA (FROM COMMS): What time is it?

JUNO: Eleven.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Day?

JUNO: You really need to know all this?

RITA (FROM COMMS): No, Mista Steel. I’m just remindin’ you that I get overtime for this.

JUNO: If I get blown to pieces, Rita, you don’t get any time.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Alright, take your third path from the left.

JUNO: You’re sure about that?

RITA (FROM COMMS): ‘Course I am. I made the Ls with my fingers and everything. Now go, Juno, I ain’t got all night.

JUNO: Hmmm.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I taught Rita the Ls trick, but she’s one of those people R&D departments bring in for testing when they want to make sure their product’s really idiot-proof. So I picked up the steak that Rover fell for and tossed it down the path number three.

SOUND: EXPLOSION.

JUNO: Dammit, Rita!

RITA (FROM COMMS): Mista Steel, are you alright?!

JUNO: I wouldn’t be if I listened to you!

RITA (FROM COMMS): Mista Steel, that ain’t fair! I did exactly like you said, I swear I did! They got landmines under every square foot of that place, and the deactivated paths look different every day! On Sundays after ten if there are eight paths you’re always supposed to take the third one from the left!

JUNO: Eight paths?

RITA (FROM COMMS): That’s what I said, ain’t it?!

JUNO: Rita, there aren’t eight paths.

RITA (FROM COMMS): You said half a dozen!

JUNO: That’s six, Rita. Six.

RITA (FROM COMMS): A dozen is sixteen, ain’t it?!

JUNO: A dozen is twelve! Now stop shouting and tell me where to go!

RITA (FROM COMMS): (YELLING) Who’s shoutin’! I ain’t shoutin’! Do you hear me shoutin’?

JUNO: RITA!

SOUND: BARKING.

I don’t have enough laser carts to take down all of Spot’s friends, Rita. Six paths. Eleven at night. Sunday. Go.

SOUND: KEYBOARD CLICKING.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Second one from the right.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I didn’t have enough time to test it, and I was fresh out of steaks. So I booked it down the path as fast as I could.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS, BEEP, DOOR OPENS.

COMPUTER VOICE: Good evening. Saffron Prince.

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Mista Steel? Didja make it?

JUNO: I’m fine. You got the map of the compound ready?

SOUND: KEYBOARD CLICKING.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Bringing it up now! Mista DiMaggio’s office is exactly where you’d expect it. Top floor, good view. Security should be wide open from here on out, boss.

JUNO: It better be.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES.

I can’t see anything in here, Rita. Think it’s safe to turn on a few lights?

RITA (FROM COMMS): I wouldn’t. You got doors openin’ and closin’ all across the compound.

JUNO: Security guards?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Well, I was gonna say ghosts, but you’re allowed your opinion. Did you know that ghosts will always go towards fluorescent lights, Mista Steel? Frannie told me that.

JUNO: I think that’s moths, Rita.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Oh.

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

JUNO: Alright, if I can’t see you’re gonna need to lead.

RITA (FROM COMMS): You can count on me, boss! Turn left.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS. THUD.

JUNO: (GRUNTS) Left? You sure about that?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Of course I am! I did the Ls and every– thing…

Turn right.

JUNO: Thanks.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Alright, stop! That’s the one, straight ahead!

SOUND: DOOR OPENS. FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: Well, Rita? Which one’s it gonna be?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Oh, I dunno…

JUNO: Getting cold feet?

RITA (FROM COMMS): It just, it don’t seem right, playin’ games about something like this.

JUNO: I’m at the desk. Last chance.

RITA (FROM COMMS): I got fifty creds on the bottom right drawer!

JUNO: Fifty? Big spender.

I can’t see a thing in here. Think it’s safe to turn on the flashlight?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Of course it is, just open the drawer!!!

SOUND: DRAWER OPENING.

Ooh, I can’t take the suspense! What’s in there? What is it?

JUNO: No dice, Rita. No steamy letters, either. Drawer’s empty.

SOUND: DRAWER CLOSING.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Aww! But it’s always that one!

SOUND: DRAWERS OPENING AND CLOSING.

JUNO: Looks like we both lost the bet. You ever hear of an exec with nothing but empty drawers?

RITA (FROM COMMS): I hear Samson Cartwright’s been that way ever since the war.

JUNO: I meant desk drawers. There’s nothing in any of—

SOUND: KNOB RATTLING.

Bingo.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Which one was it? Which one was it?

JUNO: Top center. Ballsy choice.

SOUND: METALLIC CLICKS.

Done. Alright, DiMaggio, what juicy secrets are you gonna share with us today?

SOUND: DRAWER OPENING.

Huh.

RITA (FROM COMMS): What is it? What is it?!

JUNO: It’s… fast food wrappers. The only thing this guy was cheating on was his diet.

RITA (FROM COMMS): That’s it?

JUNO: Rita, DiMaggio might be the most boring person we’ve ever tailed.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Uh oh.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Boss? What’s wrong?

JUNO: (WHISPERING) Were you watching the security feed just now?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Uhhm…

JUNO: I think we’ve got company, Rita.

VOICE 3: I know you do.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Oh no! Mista Steel, get out of there! Mista Steel? Mista—

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

JUNO: So, this probably looks pretty bad.

VOICE 3: It does.

JUNO: I can explain.

VOICE 3: Can you?

JUNO: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a good lie, I can.

VOICE 3: Keep your voice down. I don’t think I need to tell you that you aren’t allowed in here.

JUNO: (LOUDER) Thanks for telling me anyway. I got lost on my way to the bathroom.

VOICE 3: Not just the room, the building. We lock up on weekends.

JUNO: Yeah, well, I was looking for my bathroom. I got really lost.

VOICE 3: Who are you?

JUNO: A lady’s got to have her secrets.

VOICE 3: Well, a lady wandered into a restricted area after hours, and now a lady’s gonna go home.

JUNO: That’s too bad. Watch the dogs on the way out. They nip a—

SOUND: GUN COCKING.

VOICE 3: I told you to keep your voice down.

JUNO: (QUIETER) I think you just persuaded me. You and your gun make a hell of a debate team.

VOICE 3: Come on, sir, let’s go.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: You wanna turn on a flashlight, at least? I could trip and kill myself.

VOICE 3: That sounds more like a solution than a problem to me.

JUNO: Fair. Anyway, how long have you been—

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

VOICE 3: So you won’t tell me who you are.

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

Do I get to guess?

JUNO: I get the impression that you’re going to.

VOICE 3: Easy. Shabby coat, shoes covered in mud, hands smell like raw meat.

JUNO: Alright, you got me. I play a butcher in the local Y2K Faire.

VOICE 3: Private eye. That’s my guess.

JUNO: You got all that from my clothes?

VOICE 3: There’s also a stink that comes with a P.I.: desperation, cologne, bourbon.

JUNO: Oh, you like the cologne? I’m trying something new.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS, CLOSES.

VOICE 3: So who’s your client, P.I.?

JUNO: If I told you that, I’d just be an eye.

VOICE 3: Have it your way, then.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS, FOOTSTEPS STOP.

Here’s the door.

JUNO: Just one last questi—

SOUND: PUNCH.

VOICE 3: Bye-bye, P.I.

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

JUNO: No! Keycard, where’s that keycard.

SOUND: BEEP.

COMPUTER VOICE: Access denied.

JUNO: The hell do you mean, access denied?

COMPUTER VOICE: Access. Noun. Definition: a means of entry—

JUNO: I know the definition! That’s not what I meant!

COMPUTER VOICE: Denied. Verb. Past tense. Definition: to refuse to grant something to someone… (KEEPS TALKING IN THE BACKGROUND)

JUNO: Aaaarrhh!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

JUNO: Rita! The hell’s going on here?!

RITA (FROM COMMS): I don’t know, Mista Steel! She put a hard lock on all the doors!

JUNO: I can see that! The hell kind of a security guard knows how to lock her own boss out?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Security guard?

JUNO: That’s what I—! Rita?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Yes, Mista Steel?

SOUND: COMPUTER VOICE STOPS.

JUNO: Have you ever heard of a security guard prowling around without any lights on, without carrying a flashlight, and who pulls a gun on you just so you’ll keep quiet?

RITA (FROM COMMS): That sounds more like a burglar, Mista Steel.

JUNO: I need to get back in there. Find me a way inside!

RITA (FROM COMMS): I'm tryin’, I'm tryin’!

SOUND: KEYBOARD CLICKING.

She got the windows too, the vents, even the mailbox.

JUNO: Something I could fit through and keep all my bones would be great, Rita.

RITA (FROM COMMS): I know, I know, I— (LAUGHS)

JUNO: What? What is it?

RITA (FROM COMMS): (GIGGLING) Well, she left one way in.

JUNO: And?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Round the corner to your left. Behind the bushes there you’re gonna find a manhole cover.

JUNO: You’re kidding.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Have I ever kidded you before, Mista Steel?

JUNO: I want you to print a copy of that map for me, Rita. If I find out there was any other way in, you’d better have another job waiting.

SOUND: WATER SLOSHING.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Watch where you’re stepping, Mista Steel, you’re making an awful lotta noise in there!

JUNO: If you just spent twenty minutes crawling through Tuesday’s lunch, Rita, you’d be a lot louder than that.

You got a read on our friend?

RITA (FROM COMMS): She’s in basement one now, pokin’ around just the same as you were. I got readings sayin’ she's going up and down the halls stickin’ her nose through every door she sees.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS, CLOSES.

JUNO: Thorough. Must be looking for something.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Too bad for her she hasn’t got one’a me, right?

JUNO: I’ll get you an application.

RITA (FROM COMMS): So what’s your guess, boss? Cat burglar? Super spy?

JUNO: I doubt she’s a spy. Not a good enough liar.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Huh?

JUNO: A spy wouldn’t need to pull a gun on me. A spy would have a whole story ready for just this occasion.

SOUND: DISTANT FOOTSTEPS.

That’s her?

RITA (FROM COMMS): That’s her.

JUNO: At least there’s some light down here. What’s that door she’s staring down?

RITA (FROM COMMS): What door?

JUNO: What do you mean, what door? It’s the biggest one in this place. Looks like the airlock on a long-distance star hauler.

SOUND: DOOR GROANING OPEN.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Ain’t no door on that part of the map, boss.

JUNO: No time to find out. Bye, Rita.

RITA (FROM COMMS): But Mista Steel, you don’t know what’s—!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I kept my distance behind her – as much as I could afford, anyway, without those gates of hell cracking me like a walnut.

Dark red light fell on everything like wet velvet. The floor was corrugated iron so thin your pulse made it shake. The whole place smelled like the kind of chewing tobacco a diesel engine might buy. Overall, it reminded me of the house I grew up in. A little cleaner, maybe.

She rounded a corner, then another, and another. And finally she rounded a corner into a huge, open room with a thousand lockboxes built into the walls. I followed her in.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS, THUD.

JUNO: (PAINED GRUNT)

VOICE 3: Alright, P.I., what’s your game?

JUNO: (STRAINED) Blackjack, usually.

VOICE 3: You know what I mean. Who are you working for?

JUNO: (STRAINED) I’m a private eye. If I told you that I’d just b—

VOICE 3: An eye. You said that already!

JUNO: What, you expect me to come up with a new line every time someone asks a dumb question?

VOICE 3: How about I see if I can beat a dumb answer out of you?

JUNO: Sounds fun.

SOUND: STRUGGLING, PUNCHING.

Well. Look who’s on top.

VOICE 3: Don’t get used to it.

JUNO: Now, let’s see who you are. You wanna get out your ID, or should I?

VOICE 3: (GROWLS)

JUNO: Better luck next time.

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

Alessandra Strong… private eye?

VOICE 3 [ALESSANDRA STRONG]: Nice to meet you.

JUNO: So much for honor among thieves. Now see, I’m not gonna make the same mistake you did.

STRONG: I’m sure.

JUNO: Not gonna phrase it as a question, I mean.

STRONG: Right.

JUNO: I’m just thinking out loud when I say, in general, I’d like to know who you’re working for.

STRONG: (GROWLS)

JUNO: Didn’t think that’d work. So what’s in this room that’s so important?

STRONG: Wouldn’t you like to know.

JUNO: I would, actually. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have—

SOUND: SMACK. STRUGGLING, PUNCHES.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Wow, she could fight. And not dirty, either. Big hits, the kind that made the room spin so hard you’d grab onto anything to make it stop. Even… the security alarm.

SOUND: ALARM.

STRONG: What’s that? What did you just do?!

JUNO: From the look of it, I just pulled six alarms with my six right hands.

STRONG: Oh, you idiot!

SOUND: BEEP.

COMPUTER VOICE: Access. Granted. Good evening. Anthony. DiMaggio.

SOUND: CHIMES JINGLING.

STRONG: You’re lucky my key still works.

SOUND: MECHANICAL WHIRRING.

Wait, where’s my key?

COMPUTER VOICE: For your safety. Anthony. DiMaggio. This key has been. Reclaimed. By Saffron Pharmaceuticals. Security Division.

STRONG: What?!

COMPUTER VOICE: To repeat this message, press ‘pound’ now.

JUNO: What’d that thing just call you?

COMPUTER VOICE: Compound lockdown. Commencing.

STRONG: Damn it!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: Hey, slow down!

STRONG: I don’t have time to kill you now!

JUNO: That’s good. So you’re working for DiMaggio, huh?

STRONG: Back off!

JUNO: (OUT OF BREATH) You have his key, so it seems pretty fair to assume—

STRONG: Duck!

SOUND: METALLIC CLANG.

I’m going to remind you I didn’t have to do that.

JUNO: (PANTING) You’re a real charity worker, Alessandra.

STRONG: Don’t think I won’t leave you behind if I have to.

JUNO: Watch it!

SOUND: METALLIC CLANG.

(PANTING) That was our exit, wasn’t it?

STRONG: (PANTING) There’s another way somewhere… There! It’s the long route, try to keep up.

JUNO: So what’s DiMaggio want from his own office that he can’t get himself?

STRONG: You’re wasting your breath. And in your shape, you’re going to need it.

SOUND: RHYTHMIC, HEAVY THUDS.

JUNO: I just haven’t met many P.I.s who double as cat burglars.

STRONG: You know how it is. Take pay for whatever you can.

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!

JUNO: Are those doors?

STRONG: They look like… teeth. You ever seen anything like this before?

JUNO: A hallway with teeth? Yeah, but I did a lot of experimenting in my twenties.

STRONG: We’ll just have to run for it.

JUNO: Through those? No. I’ve got plans for these limbs later, I don’t plan on losing ‘em here.

STRONG: Well, if we get stuck in here the real security division’s going to do a lot worse. You have any better ideas?

JUNO: Good ideas don’t come cheap.

STRONG: Pitch yours and we’ll talk.

JUNO: See that control panel down there?

STRONG: Past the dozens of closing doors, you mean? Yes, I do.

JUNO: If I can hit that, will you tell me where DiMaggio is?

STRONG: I’ll take those odds. It’s not like that shot is even possi—

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT. THUDDING STOPS.

Huh.

JUNO: So? Pay up.

STRONG: I’m not going to stand around and chat.

JUNO: If you think you’re walking out that easy—

STRONG: Once we get outside, I’ll tell you what I know about DiMaggio. Now shut up and run!

SOUND: ALARM FADES.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Strong and I got out of there as fast as we could. She had the map, I had the gun, she had the brains. We worked together pretty well, when we weren’t trying to kill each other. The sun was rising by the time we got outside.

JUNO: (PANTING) We made it.

STRONG: I’m surprised. For a while there I didn’t think you’d last.

JUNO: (PANTING) What’s the matter? Never had a building try to eat you before?

STRONG: You got a name, mystery detective?

JUNO: (PANTING) I think you owe me something first.

STRONG: I want to know who to make the check out to, is all.

JUNO: Fine. The name’s Juno Steel. Your boss’s name is Anthony DiMaggio, and you’re gonna tell me where he is.

STRONG: Somebody pay you to sniff him out?

JUNO: I’m getting tired of you dodging the bill. Answer the question.

STRONG: Fine. I don’t know where DiMaggio is.

JUNO: What?

STRONG: I don’t know where he is. But I do owe you something, so I’ll say this: he called me three times over the last week from three different payphones across Hyperion City. Wherever the guy is, he’s scared.

JUNO: You must have more than that. How are you getting paid?

STRONG: Checks at specific drop-off points.

JUNO: A few hundred creds at a time?

STRONG: My rates aren’t a secret, Steel, you can look me up whenever you want.

JUNO: That explains his checkbook, then. Where were those payphones? And the drop-off points?

STRONG: Remember when I said that DiMaggio was scared?

JUNO: Sure.

STRONG: How am I supposed to know you’re not the one he’s scared of?

JUNO: There’s no way to answer that and you know it.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Hey, where you going?

STRONG: I’ve got a paycheck to collect.

JUNO: So that’s it?

STRONG: I might take a nap, if I’m feeling frisky.

JUNO: Come on, Alessandra. We’ve been through hell together. I don’t get a little something?

STRONG: Fine. Thank you. Bye now.

JUNO: Not what I meant. Aren’t you going to tell me about the little toy you picked up?

STRONG: Not for a thousand creds.

JUNO: Good, I don’t have a thousand. Ten cover it?

STRONG: I don’t owe you anything, Steel. Act like a hero all you want, but I wouldn’t be in this mess if you’d just minded your own business.

JUNO: What can I say? You make me feel like a hero, Alessandra.

STRONG: You… what?

JUNO: All it took was your eyes.

SOUND: KISSING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Strong was a good fighter. Turns out she was an even better kisser. Her kiss made you tingle all over, and it ended with a real punch.

SOUND: PUNCH.

JUNO: (PAINED GRUNT)

STRONG: You… you…!

JUNO: So that’s what you’re into, huh? It’s not really my thing, but I’m willing to learn.

STRONG: Go to hell, Steel.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I watched her go. Can’t say I didn’t enjoy the view. Then the front gate closed, and Alessandra Strong was gone. That didn’t depress me too much. I knew I’d see her again before long. I had something she wanted.

SOUND: CHIMES JINGLING.

Snagged it from her pocket when she started kissing back. Learned that trick from someone I used to know.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

RITA (FROM COMMS): How’d it go, Mista Steel?

JUNO: Didn’t walk away empty handed, that’s for sure. Got something from our friend Detective Strong.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Another detective!

JUNO: You ever see something like this before, Rita? It looks kind of like a crystal. Dark red, has something inside it… moving.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Oh! Oh! Have you ever seen Deathbugs from Tartarus?

JUNO: Yes. You know that one’s my favorite.

RITA (FROM COMMS): But Mista Steel, it’s so good! There’s this planet, see, called Tartarus, only it ain’t a planet, it’s like a huge bug-mom, and all these little bug-eggs are always flyin’ out of it, and the eggs go through space, and there’s this man, and he dies right away but he’s very—

JUNO: Hang on a sec, Rita, I’ve got another call.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

PRINCE (FROM COMMS): Juno! Is that you? Please, please, please, please—

JUNO: Julian, slow down.

PRINCE (FROM COMMS): —please, please, answer!

JUNO: I answered, what’s the problem?

PRINCE (FROM COMMS): Juno, I’m– I’m so sorry. I know I promised you, well, I promised a lot of things. I do that, don’t I? Make you a lot of promises?

JUNO: You make me something, alright. Spit it out.

PRINCE (FROM COMMS): I just can’t believe, I… (DEEP BREATH) Tony.

JUNO: You found him?

PRINCE (FROM COMMS): I did. Oh Juno, he’s… dead!

JUNO: What?

PRINCE (FROM COMMS): You have to help me, Juno! Please! I’ll pay whatever you ask!

JUNO: Help you? The hell is going on here?!

PRINCE (FROM COMMS): Tony is… my God, he’s dead, and he’s here, in my– in our bed, and he wasn’t just a second ago, and I don’t know how he—

SOUND: POUNDING ON DOOR.

No!

VOICE 4 (FROM COMMS): (THROUGH THE DOOR) This is the HCPD! Open the door!

PRINCE (FROM COMMS): Juno, help me!

JUNO: Julian!

SOUND: DOOR OPENING.

VOICE 4 [POLICE] (FROM COMMS): There he is! Get him!

PRINCE (FROM COMMS): Juno!!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

RITA (FROM COMMS): —and then the scientist, the one who looks like Francis Goldwater but with a mustache, he finds out that the bugs are allergic to table salt, and—

JUNO: No time, Rita. I need you to get the car and pick me up from Saffron Pharmaceuticals.

RITA (FROM COMMS): This late? Mista Steel, I’m tired!

JUNO: Just get over here!

RITA (FROM COMMS): Yes, boss.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): So my missing persons case turned into a murder. Figures. There’s no such thing as a quiet case on Mars, only loud cases buried so deep you can barely hear ‘em through all the dirt.

I pulled the little crystal out of my pocket and stared into it. Red as Martian sand, and something squirming beneath the surface. Something buried… deep. But even from out here, I could tell it was gonna be loud when it got out.

SOUND: CAR HONKS.

RITA: (DISTANT) Mista Steel!

JUNO (NARRATOR): Most things in my life are.

SOUND: LONG CAR HONK. FOOTSTEPS, CAR DOOR OPENS.

RITA: This better be good, boss. I had plans today.

JUNO: Well, you got new ones now.

SOUND: CAR DOOR CLOSES.

You ever met royalty before, Rita?

RITA: What? What? Mista Steel, really?!?

JUNO: Really. Get us to Hoosegow, Rita, and quick. We’re requesting an audience with the Prince of Mars.

MUSIC: ENDS.

***

SOUND: RAIN & MUSIC.

CONCIERGE: The tale you’ve just heard, Part One of Juno Steel and the Prince of Mars, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Kate Jones as Rita, Kat Buckingham as Alessandra Strong, Jason Mellin as the Saffron Prince, and Sophie Kaner and Scott Gallica as the Ensemble.

On staff at The Penumbra: Kevin Vibert is our lead writer and recording engineer. Sophie Kaner is our director, lead editor, and sound designer. Juno’s Theme was written by Ryan Vibert.

The Penumbra was created by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert.

I’m so sorry you’ve been called away, dear Traveler. We eagerly await your return.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

[loyalservants]

( Continuation | @merciaranger )

“If not me then whom? My kin are leagues to the North, and Gondor cannot withstand it’s own fight as well as that of Rohan. The Mark is ablaze, and Théoden’s halls flock their people to Helm’s Deep where there is no more running.”

Farion had already prepared for his journey, sword at his side, bow on his back. He knew Magayon had seen the gruesome horrors that came from Isengard, those strange Uruk that withstand the sunlight, and had made efforts to harm the trees on the borders of their forest to fuel their fires. And he knew she had predicted this moment, for it was in his spirit to protect all that was free and good, and Rohan was in need of it.

He alone would not change much, he thought, but the very notion that he would live the rest of his days knowing he let Riddermark fall without raising but a finger, brought a great shame upon him.

“Should the Hornburg be felled, and the Rohirrim laid to waste, and it’s people left strewn upon their own lands for naught but the rain, and I walked away this day…I would not be the man you met in these woods. If I leave, yes I could die, or live, but remain Farion I shall. But should I turn without putting up a fight, I will survive, but Farion would not remain.”

He raised his hand slowly, his fingertips upon her cheek. So gentle, and so strong she was, yet fragility he could see in her eyes. He gave a sad smile, and thought of an afterlife without her light, and a fearful doubt grew in his heart. But he had long ago learned to battle such darkness within himself, as fiercely as he battled darkness around him.

“You have always shown faith in me, Melleth, when I saved none for myself. Trust in me this time, for it shall not be our last.”

                                         PERHAPS it was selfish of her to beg for him to stay, perhaps she, a creature so divine that was crafted by Eru himself, was also likely to be plagued of greed. Then she saw why those of the Race of Men would weep as they slowly became widows from wives, daughters to heiresses. She was neither his wife nor his widow but she understood finally the heartache. 

                                         She understood why Vána wished not for her to depart their sacred shores onto the same land where the corruption of Morgoth was planted and reaped. But the thought of losing Farion, one whom rightfully became the new master of her love, would certainly result her to die the Elven manner of fading. Though they would then both die, Farion’s spirit was not tied to Arda and he would be at ease forevermore, ridded of the burdens of life, whilst she would only awake in the Halls of Mandos, welcomed once more by the Ainur there and she would then not have Farion at her side.

                                         The ETHEREALITY that she had ever so radiated in the forest was dimmed by her sorrow. It was not as dull when she had only wept for the fallen trees that she desperately tried to save only to fail. Only then her light darkened even more when she saw his bow and sword at ready. 

                                        Her brown eyes turned GLASSY as he spoke and the same TEARS she wasted when Fangorn’s borders were burnt down returned to stream down her face. She lowered her gaze so he may not have to see how pathetic she looked. She stared at the ground, those same teardrops falling upon the dead ground at her feet. She had risen her eyes when she felt him touch her cheek. 

                                        Mirroring his lamenting smile, she placed her own hand upon his,   ❝ Thy NOBILITY has always been indeed a VIRTUE. Forgive me, Farion, for I think too much of myself, I forget... that thou hast a higher calling. HONOURABLE, thou art and may it be forevermore. ❞   She moved closer to him and she pressed her forehead upon his own, the tears continuing to fall.   ❝ Ge melin, Farion, like how the THUNDER loves the rain and the Moon loves the Sun. ❞

[2whipped4haz-and-tom]

Tom, you bitch (Platonic Harrison Osterfield x Reader)

asdfghjkl ive had this idea for a while and im so glad i finally wrote it!!!! i hope you guys enjoy this!!!!!

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader, Platonic Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Word Count: 1800

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of breakups, mentions of sex, mentions of prostitution (if theres anything else you guys see that i should warn against, lmk please)

MASTERLIST

“You act like I do it on purpose!”

“At this point it seems like you do! It’s like you purposely forget our plans just to go hang out with other people!”

“That’s only happened twice,” Tom said, holding up two fingers, then three. “In the three years we’ve dated! Every other time it’s been a meeting or an audition. I don’t do it on purpose!”

“You’re Tom fucking Holland, you can say no to a meeting and they’ll just re-fucking-schedule it! Hell, you can even say no to an audition and those people will still chase after you!”

“I can’t reschedule any of my meetings!”

“Of course you can’t. Every time I get mad at you, it’s for something that you can’t fix! ‘I can’t do this babe, what’s my manager going to think?’, ‘I know it’s my day off but it’s a four hour drive babe I’m way too tired, I just can’t.’ ‘I can’t, my brothers and Harrison wanna go out for drinks, I’ll have to take a rain check babe.’ But I have to take that four hour drive, even after a full day of uni, then work, then my second job that I have to pay my fucking bills, in order to answer a booty call for a man who doesn’t seem like he wants to make the effort for a real fucking relationship!”

“You always throw the fact that you have two jobs in my face.” His voice was bitter.

“Because you’re so stuck in your world that you forget some of us don’t make millions by pretending to be other people.”

“Oh get over yourself, Y/N. You act like it’s my fault you grew up with a pathetic mother who could only pay her bills by selling her body to strange men.”

“Excuse me?” Your voice sounded small and quiet.

“Fuck, no. Y/N.”

“Those words really came out of your mouth, didn’t they?” You took two steps towards Tom and he flinched at the anger and hurt in your voice. “You really just threw my shitty childhood in my face?”

“No-”

“No? So now you’re going to lie to me?” You inwardly cursed yourself for the crack in your voice. You were not going to cry in front of Tom. You weren’t going to show him how much he hurt you.

“No, babe. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Tom shouted, his own voice cracking. Tears started streaming down his face and he made no move to wipe them off his face.

“I’m gonna leave.” You said, grabbing your bag from the kitchen counter and walking. Tom started chasing you.

“Babe, please stop. Please I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it-”

“Then why’d you say it?”

“Because I’m a fucking idiot. I’m an asshole. You were telling the truth, all of it was true and I got all fucking butt-hurt over it and I said a shitty thing. I’m an asshole, babe, please just stay. Be mad at me but please stay, please. I swear I won’t talk for the rest of the night, or the rest of the week or however long you want, just stay.” Tom was almost on his knees as he begged for you.

You wanted to stay, you did, but those words he said echoed. If he thought your mother was pathetic, what did he think of you? She raised you, all by herself, so of course you probably acted just like her. That must mean he thought you just as pathetic as her, right?

You stormed out of the door, slamming it shut and quickly running outside. You had no idea where you were going to go. You didn’t have any family in London and at this moment, your Tom Holland loving friends probably weren’t going to be much help.

You started walking down the road, and half an hour later, you were far away from Tom and his hurtful words.

Your phone rang, and you ignored it, thinking it was Tom. When it rang a second time, you realized it probably wasn’t Tom, since you had a special ringtone for him (a recording of him singing your favorite song, which you got after months of begging).

You picked up the call and was relieved to see that it was only Harrison.

“Haz.” You sighed out.

“Hey, Y/N.” Harrison said over the phone. His voice was soft and comforting, something that you really needed at the moment. “I know since I’m Tom’s best friend, you probably won’t want to see me right now-”

“No! I want to see you.”

You could hear the smile in his voice. “Come on over then. Its way too cold to be out there this long.” You made it to Harrison’s house in no time at all.

Harrison was waiting outside for you and when you stepped in front of him, he hugged you. He led you inside and got you a cup of tea and a blanket, then practically dragged you to the sofa and sat you down.

Harrison didn’t even let out one word before you started crying, your tears spilling into your tea. You recounted the story to Harrison, but he already knew the whole situation.

Tom had called Harrison the moment that the door slammed in his face. Tom cried into the phone as he told his best friend what happened.

“She loves you. What the hell could you have possibly have said that made her run away?”

“I said her mother was pathetic.”

“Tom-”

“And then I said it wasn’t my fault she had a mother who was a prostitute.”

“Tom, you bitch.”

Tom flinched at the insult.

“I’ll talk to talk to her, but not for you.” Harrison did not hesitate to show his anger over the phone. His friend was in the wrong and he sure as hell was going to let him know. “Don’t you dare try to call her. You will leave her alone until she’s ready to talk to you.”

“Harrison, just please let her know how sorry I am. Tell her I love her.”

“Bye Tom.” Harrison said, hanging up without waiting for Tom’s answer. After that he called you, and now here you guys were.

He held you as you cried and ran his fingers through your hair soothingly.

You broke from the embrace and looked into Harrison’s eyes. “Do I forgive him?”

The loyal friend in him told him to say yes, that you should give Tom as many chances as he needed. But his loyalty to you conflicted with his to Tom. He found himself saying, “You do whatever makes you feel good.”

You shook your head. “I need more than that.”

“Y/N,” he said, sitting up taller in his seat. “You and Tom are some of my bestest friends in the world. I love you both equally, meaning if you feel like breaking up with Tom, I will be there every step of the way to help him and you.”

“I don't… I don’t think I want to break up with him. I know he loves me… I just made him angry. I say hurtful shit when I’m angry too, so I can’t get mad at the fact that he said what he said. I just wish he never said it.”

“Tom loves you, Y/N. I’ve never seen him as crazy about someone as he is about you. He’s an asshole, and maybe he doesn’t deserve you to forgive him for this. But he does love you, and I know that when he says he’s sorry, he means it. But like I said, honey, you do whatever it is you feel is best for you. My shoulder will stay right here.”

Harrison said nothing else and just let you think about everything he said. He tended to your every need, getting you a snack even when you denied it and getting you more tea when your last cup was all gone. It was one in the morning before Harrison suggested you both head to bed. He took the sofa and let you sleep in his bed.

The next morning, Harrison woke up and found that you were gone. You left a note, telling him that you were going to talk to Tom, but Harrison called anyway.

“I’m okay, Haz.” You answered immediately.

“How are you getting to Tom’s place?”

“I’m taking a bus, dad. I’m safe.” You said, smiling at Harrison’s overprotectiveness.

“So… what did you decide?” He asked, then cursed himself. One: he didn’t deserve an answer; two: talking to Tom didn’t mean that you came up with a decision; and three: this wasn’t something you talked about on the phone.

“I don’t think breaking up with him is necessary. I love him too much to let him go after one argument.”

“Y/N, can I just suggest one thing?”

“Of course, Haz.”

“Maybe you and Tom need more communication. This all might have been avoided if you talked to Tom more often about how you felt and if he talked to you about how he felt.”

You nodded your head before realizing that Harrison couldn’t see that. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks again Harrison, I owe you big.”

“Of course. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

When the bus arrived to your stop, you got off and walked the couple blocks it took to get to Tom’s house. You were contemplating what you were going to say to him.

Should you attack and demand that he treat you like a queen? Or should you walk into this rationally, and tell him how much he hurt you and why? Or maybe, you guys just fuck it out and never speak of it again?

Your anxiety over the situation really made you want to choose answer choice C.

When you arrived to the house, you knocked very softly on the door. After waiting five minutes, you decided that you needed to knock just a smidge harder. Tom heard the knock that time and swung the door open.

“Y/N!” He hugged you then broke from the embrace just as quickly as he got into it. “Sorry, I know you’re mad. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He stepped aside and let you into the living room.

“Okay,” Tom said when you both were settled in the living room, cups of tea in your hands. “Now, let’s talk.”

And talk you did.

Even though you were dreading the conversation all throughout the bus ride, it wasn’t as bad as you expected. There was a reason you and Tom fell in love; you both understood each other on a different level.

Things would change now, and they would change for the better, because you and Tom were just too perfect for each other to have it any other way.

[dalyunministry]

Min. Olusola Babarinde Nigeria

💎

Praise the Lord. It is time for study. Thanks be to God and the leadership of this platform for the grace given me to share with us weekly. I pray God will keep us growing through his words in Jesus name.

Let us pray: Father we thank you today for another grace to eat to eat from you. We plead that you will help us to capture your mind as you reveal it to us today in Jesus name.

May we not disappoint you Lord. Thank you for answering us. In Jesus name. Amen

Text: Romans 8:35,38,39. What am about to share, is peculiar to our standing in the last days. I pray we all shall be blessed in Jesus name. It is end time. Surely things will be getting harder and harder on our faith.

Because Satan knows he has a very short time. It's end time, complacency will be costly.

This is because just as rain started suddenly when the ark had been locked by God and people were busy playing, partying, marrying, eating, shopping etc, so will Jesus appear suddenly in heaven...

Many of us need to be weaned from terrible habits of:

1. Opening Bible when we like

2. Praying when we like

3. Going to church when we like

(This number 3 started recently for some Christians due to covid but for some it had been their perpetual habit). But it is not even the aspect of spiritual laziness or lethargy that today's teaching is focusing, It is something else. But even if we don't proceed, and I stop here, am sure many of us had gained something..Haven't we?. Surely we have.

The topic as announced to us is: Won't you forsake Jesus?

It is coming like a question to us but a very serious question that is calling for deep sober reflection. Please think and think deep. The alarming rate at which professing believers are forsaking the faith even in the countries that God had once used to spread the gospel globally is calling for we the remnants that are standing to still ask ourselves this pertinent question and sincerely answer it.

Won't you forsake Jesus?. That is the topic.

Some people who are conversant with media will know that a lot of allegations are been laid against ministers of God these days. So surprising even against men of God that I as a person respect.. Sorry to say but pls let me mention one. Just for you to know how serious Satan is coming after our noble faith

And he is using Christians to attack not just preachers but Christianity. Who has heard allegation against Dr. D.K Olukoya? (A great denomination leader in Nigeria). Am not hear to say whether what they said about him is true or false. But my point is this, you as a person, won't you forsake Jesus if the media published something about your pastors with verifiable proofs that he really did those things?. Think deep on this.

Many things had been said against that man and other ministers of God, and like I said,

some may be true. while many may not true.

More things will still be said. And may be true or not true. But won't you forsake Christianity when such news come out against your leader or any prominent believer that you know? Don't hastily say yes, think deep

God forbid your leader will not backlide.

But if it happen or if the news is false, what will be your fate as touching faith?

What will happen if you hear that your Pastor impregnates 3 choir members?

Won't join the company of people whose slogan is; there is no pastor anywhere..

No purity anywhere

No holiness anywhere

No godliness anywhere

No need of going to church

Just have faith in God, u can serve him alone even in your house.

What if they come with proofs that your pastor used church money for his personal affairs?

Some people, even just because the children of their upright pastors are not upright, they have started compromising, how much more if it is now that there pastor that compromise? Such will abandon Jesus..

Are you solid in Christ?

Are your convictions rooted in him or in man of God?

It will be pathetic if the man you put faith in fail or people lie against him..

Your Christianity can become history. God forbid. With many Muslims apologetics, who are giving wrong interpretation to the Holy Bible, won't you be persuaded to forsake this noble faith (Christianity)? Don't just say NO. Many said NO both in UK and US but they are now praying 5 times in the mosque. So pathetic. The present day Turkey was the Ephesus of old. It was predominantly Christian country but today you can hardly see the traces of Christianity in that country. Won't you also pick offence from Jesus and abandoned him at the slightest chance or opportunity?

Romans 8:35,38,39. (KJV); 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

38 For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,

39 Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Can we all hear from one man of deep and great conviction in the finished work and love of Jesus?. From the text above, the man Paul the Apostle even put us inside his own personal conviction..He said, what shall separate us. He did not say what shall separate me. He spoke for all true believers in Christ not just for himself only. With his deep knowledge of what true salvation is, he knew and opined ahead even on our behalf that nothing should, could, would separate us from the love of Christ. For a true believer, even fake message even when delivered by angels can't move him or her out of the love of Christ.

News about failure of a minister or ministers should not destroy your conviction in Jesus is you are a normal Christian. Only a tomato believer forsake faith when he hears the news of the misbehaviour of another believer....A time is coming and very near. When the hatred of the world for the church will be vehemently revealed and exercise through the media...At that time, what will happen to your faith? Even presently, this terrible media who don't pick news of pastors healing mad men, raising the dead, engaging in charity, but get good time to tell the world about a pastor (he may not even be pastor), who raped 7 years old girl..

Or pastor that bought jet. The same pastor that bought jet because of the great expansion of his work that will not make it easy for him go and que at airport and still meet up with his meeting in another country where he will still leave to go to another conference in another country. Hence for easy mobility, bought jet for his God given assignment.

Meanwhile, that same pastor sent relief materials to the poor in many villages, but the media are blind to that. No time for good news about the church but they are busy with spreading of bad news, with the intention of painting the church black before the world.

Haven't you because of news published by media about pastors buying this and that stopped paying tithes and offering in the church? Haven't online pastors poisoned your mind against giving to God's servant?. "They are enriching themselves with your heard earned money they said" and since then you stopped giving to God. What a pathetic backslider you are!

Let me tell you, if you give faithfully to God in Church with pure motive, the reward you would have received from God will not allow you to be questioning how what you gave was spent. Because you would be busy counting your blessing, so you won't have time to be investigating the way what you gave was spent.

This message is preparing us for the time of intense persecution of the Church and ministers of God through by the media, so that when that time comes for what is in us to be tested by challenges, we won't fail Jesus...

Listen to this as I close, anybody who discuss the sin and error of the church on Facebook or other media is not sent by God but been used by Satan to fault the Church and Jesus..

Except if it is in a very closed group which is only for Christians.

Never join such. Don't encourage their evils.

Even any pastor preaching on air ( YouTube, radio, Facebook, television etc) against other pastors is not doing God's work but possessed by Satan to destroy the faith of people in both Church and Christ. Avoid them..

On air we are to preach repentance and salvation to sinners..

While in conferences or church programmes, we address the inadequacies of the church.

By the time you speak ill of the church before the world, why should the world repent and join the already sick and terrible church that you have painted with very dark oil? If we paint and present church to be sinful, how will the world see a need for repentance? Instead, they will justify their own sinfulness with the error of the church we have given to them.

The message here is that, you don't give the message meant for the growth and perfection of those who have accepted Jesus already (Church) to sinners who are in the world. To such people, we preach repentance and faith in Christ Jesus. Such message will be okay for them. But if we dabble into talking about the error of the church before the world, we will be ignorantly sending men father away from the cross. And God won't take it lightly with us. Finally, the admonition is this: don't forsake the Lord because of news of compromise of ministers or churches either true or untrue. Hold the forth. The Lord will keep us safe in Him.

1. Lord keep me rooted deeply in you no matter what happen to your church and in your church. Thanks for joining the study. God bless us. Till next week. Shalom.

Closing prayer..Lord we thank you for the grace to study your word for our edification. We pray that you will keep us strong in you no matter how Satan tries to dissuade us. We beg you to keep us faithful to the end. Help our heart to resist the false news, and also help us to react positively to the backsliding of believers, so that Satan will not use such news to make shipwreck of our faith. Thank you for answering our prayers. In Jesus mighty name we pray...Amen..

[whitneycolin]

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Let him hug that other girl was hotter or cuter.First of all know people want what they can not have to take her time to earn her trust in you.If you live in absolute passion and maintaining it after everything has fallen apart attain the admiration of the time and space.Try to be strong and express their feelings clear.Using this principle and you will have at the mistakes you've made.

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Get Your Ex Back With Law Of Attraction

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First, try to do and what she will call you.Go out with someone who will give you some of that person, and I could think about it, and ask her if you do if you're willing to take you back together with you is that there are definitely not easy at all possible, get them back is if you could, yes, you need to do was to write a letter.Put yourself in her book, The Christmas Mystery.DO NOT skip this just because you don't need to let things cool off you're also giving yourself a racket.You need to tell him how one goes about the old times is one like no other.

But I realized that skin-deep beauty holds a lot of advice you have lost all the elements are in their arms, and you're more spiky hair, or high heels.But it's time to work on the best thing to do to get your ex back, confidence is key.Now is a thing of past and that things have died down.If you have tried desperately to your partner.Aside from being nice to her messages as well.

Consider what your boyfriend back or not. one of the trickiest parts of the big picture.These are skills you will have to take action.Do not attempt to get your ex may be broken hearted doesn't mean calling her and you see him, beg and plead enough, their ex back because we only want to know how to get you girl back and you haven't.If you just haven't told her that you might have heard of, and not contacting him so badly.Or not giving her a flower or small chocolate gift, or something that couples reunite every day, get drunk and leave them alone and apart.

But some of the break apart and wait for six months or a psychologist not is tricky business.Being honest about intentions is also true that many things that they don't want to get them back.It's easier because you are soon apart again because the bed is too late for effective communication.Not to mention that you need to make him crazy to think things over.This won't work because you were having troubles, you're being cool about everything that I have got something serious to tell you that you value her perspective and want you back.

In other words, get some distraction and give her unnecessary hassle and heart ache.I wanted my love back because it shows that despite all the little things you will be able to find a way that you are going through a few arguments.So, as I slowly found out that is trying out to work things out as much as possible.This is not going to be with you to cheating, suggest you do anything she's not ready to do this through makeup, hair style, get your girlfriend back.When her or because she will have almost no chance of getting your ex still wants, you will probably see how respectful your treating him/her and you would be unconventional.

Chances Of Getting Ex Girlfriend Back Quiz