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smolvenger · 2 years

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Stella of Essex, or The Vicar's Wife Betrayed Series. Chapter Eight: Rhodendron

Fix-It Fanfiction Series of The Essex Serpent

Pairing: Some Stella Ransome/William Ransome, mainly Stella/Being Happy, and William/Being Held Accountable and Facing Consequences for Cheating Eventually Stella Ransome/Male OC

Series Summary: Stella must come to terms with not only her mortality but her husband's heartbreaking affair. A picture of a marriage of love and bliss torn apart by a husband's infidelity. And Stella herself in the center of it all, torn between a wife's duty and her own quiet but present rage. Where in the midst of devastating heartbreak she gains her strength, finds her voice, and dares to seek freedom, hope...and even revenge.

Chapter Summary: Stella flees from her husband's house and asks for the aid of an old friend in her predicament. She writes testimonies of William's infidelity to be sent and shared.

Warnings: Eventual Major Character Death, Female Rage, Good For Her, ANGST, WHUMP, HURT/COMFORT, DRAMA, Discussions of Adultery, and the Trauma of Being Cheated on, discussions of marriage, children, mentions of death, religion, drinking, brief cursing, and mentions of illness. Being Anti-William and Anti-C*ra, so if you like them or the pairing be warned.

A03 Link

Ko-Fi Link

Prologue//One//Two//Three//Four//Five//Six//Seven

“There is a vision I have…Of slender women…who are born and raised to be perfect women. Who take whatever punishment we give them, and bounce back, strengthened by love, unconditionally. It is a vision that has become my life…there are still women. Women willing to sacrifice themselves for the love of a man. Even a man whose love is completely without worth”- M. Butterfly, David Henry Hwang.

“OPHELIA: I hope all will be well. We must be patient, but I cannot choose but weep”- Hamlet, Shakespeare.

I moved slowly, but I reached town. No one was around—no one around to recognize, stop or force me back to his house. I was fortunate in that. It was getting to be evening. The clouds were dark, and the wind picked up. I stared up into the sky, then closed my eyes and clasped my hands together.

“God, please protect me. God, give me strength.” I prayed.

I opened my eyes to the dark grey clouds and crossed myself solemnly as the few rain drizzles broke. I then continued further into Aldwinter.

By the time I reached Fanny’s house, it burst into a torrent of rain. I covered the bag beneath my coat and removed the money from my pockets quickly into the bag. So, help me, the money and letters would not be damaged beyond their use!

I had not exerted myself like this in a long time. My knees wanted to give in from exhaustion beneath me. The rain splattered from an angle and hit a part of me. Trying to gasp in a breath, I reached up with one shaking hand and began to knock on the door.

From the inside, I heard Fanny.

“Have you heard something? A noise? Let me take Carrie to her nursery..."

I knocked again. My wraps were fewer- but still urgent. I leaned against the wall to keep from collapsing.

“Oh God, no…it couldn’t be….” She fretted.

“You don’t think?” I heard the Austrian accent of her husband, Vince Kroeger, add on.

“The snake!”

How long could I stay out here? Any minute I could black out and collapse outside! Shakily, I used the doorknob to pull myself back to my feet, I kept pounding on the door with a fury, and I begged with what loudness my voice could muster.

“Fanny! Fanny! Please let me in!”

I heard footsteps at the door and the click of the lock.

“That’s no snake!” Vince commented.

Fanny opened the door and gasped seeing me. Her husband, a tall, muscular, strong-chinned man with wheat-colored hair slicked back, followed behind her. My tired legs finally collapsed beneath me. He caught my hand and pulled me up so I would not fall onto the threshold of the door and home.

“Why, it’s Stella!! Dear God, Stella! Here! Like this!” Fanny yelped.

“Get me inside, please! Quickly! And shut the door, now!” I begged.

He walked me over to the parlor they had. It was a red and white room with a tea table, a pink couch, white decorations, and a pretty grandfather clock. They placed me to lay down on the couch. It must have been shocking- me in a coat covering only my nightgown beneath and my hair was undone and free and a little wet in my face, hair, and coat from the storm. Fanny even squinted and put her finger in my hair. She pulled out the blue wildflower.

“What…what is this? Have you walked all the way here in the rain? Why are you here? Why are you scared?”

I heard the door close and lock.

“Mrs. Ransome, should I fetch your husband, does he…” Vince offered.

I shook my head desperately.

“No! I’m here because of William!” I interrupted.

From inside my coat, I pulled out the bag. I reached into it, retrieving the letters. Thankfully, there was no water damage to them from the rain. I began to file through them rapidly. The ones I knew were love letters I moved to the front, keeping the others to the back.

“What do you mean?” Fanny asked.

I placed the pile of letters on the little tea table in front of the couch.

“The children- Has he hurt them?” Vince asked seriously.

His green eyes lowered down onto the letters in curiosity.

“The children are safe…” I answered.

“Then what is it? Why are you out of your sick bed? Your house? What did Father Ransome do?” Fanny questioned.

She too tilted her head at the letters.

“What are these?” she asked.

I placed my hands together, hardly believing the words myself. They struggled to come out of me but did.

“W-W-W-William…. William is having an affair. I saw him with her, making love to her in the forest.”

“What?!” Fanny yelled, leaning back.

Vince swore, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Then I found these!” I answered, picking up one of the love letters and offering it to them. I set it down in a pile before them on the tea table.

There was a pause. Fanny and Vince began to take the letter and read it together. Then Fanny focused on it as Vince moved on to the next one under it. They saw The Woman’s name clearly and began scanning them through. What if they didn’t believe me? What if they thought me mad and burned them? Would I have to jump into the fires and fetch them before they burned and move on somewhere else?

You could tell that they reached where the contents became more amorous. Fanny blinked rapidly and then placed a hand over her mouth. Vince’s jaw dropped as he read the back of the second letter and then placed a hand on his forehead as he finished reading it. I removed the letter from her hand and clasped both of mine onto hers, begging again.

“Fanny, I know you have a spare room. I knew at least you of all the women here would pity me! Please, let me stay here! I told my children they could find me here- I cannot be with him anymore, not after this. If you cannot- then take me somewhere else, I can stay! Please! Please don’t let me go back to William’s house!”

She placed a hand over mine, her lips pressed together.

“Do you…do you believe me? Both of you?” I asked.

Fanny nodded, her brown, squinting eyes brimming with tears.

“Yes! Yes, I do! Oh, dear God, Stella! Christ almighty-Father Ransome himself an adulterer! I never could have imagined the day! How terrible! You poor thing! Poor thing!” she wailed.

“I never thought ever he would even think of this…and not now I’m…I’m…He never loved me!” I confessed. “Not after everything I did for him all those years! None of it was enough for him!”

I crumpled down onto the couch, burying my face in my hands to sob again. never thought there would be enough tears I could shed over William’s apprehensive betrayal.

Fanny leaned me in for an embrace and let me cry against her. She went “shhh” and patted my back and hair as I cried it out again. I felt her head turn towards her husband.

“Could you make some Chamomile tea, darling?” Fanny asked softly.

“Yes, mein Hertz,” Vince confirmed.

I heard his footsteps in the kitchen and some water running. Fanny then pulled me up and held my shoulders, looking into my eyes.

“Have you told William you know about it?” she asked seriously.

“He had not returned home by the time I departed. I left him a note to him saying I knew. Left some to the children too. Their notes said I would be here. Fanny, I couldn’t abandon them! What mother am I if I did that! What mother am I to do that…” I answered.

“But that means William could find their notes!” Fanny pointed out.

I nodded. My hands felt clammy beneath me.

“Please, Fanny, please don’t let him in! I can’t stand to even look at him anymore!” I pleaded.

“Of course not! she confirmed.

In the other room, I heard the tea kettle whistle.

“May I stay here?” I repeated.

“Yes, as long as you would like….” Fanny answered.

Vince returned with three steaming cups of tea. He handed one to each of us. He continually asked if I was alright as I drank my own liquid, sweetened with honey. Fanny continued to read through the letters, frowning as she skimmed over each and every page on the pile. Finally, she curled up her fist and slammed it onto the table, shaking the papers.

“God! William! And with her too! Her! The Londoner Widow!” Fanny cried angrily.

Vince gulped down his tea, then went over to check the guest room. I heard their infant daughter babbling from her nursery. Fanny then looked up at me, and then bowed her head low.

“I thought I saw something between them…” she confessed.

“Between them?” I asked.

First, she looked down and away, and then at me, eyes shiny again and frowning sadly.

“At the dance. They danced together and they seemed very passionate about it as they did it. How he looked at her that night I... I wondered if it was…was a look of longing. But I thought, William is a vicar and a loving husband, he would never, not to you, he wouldn't….and that I was only making up something silly and then I got distracted with my little girl. I’ve been…been terrified for her since Naomi …"

I nodded. Sadly, in the past, William had to lead the funeral services of Vince and Fanny's first three children. Finally, they had a little girl who was healthy. I could not blame her vigilant fear of her daughter, especially with word of The Serpent.

"But now…now I…” Fanny babbled on.

She wiped a few tears with her hands and sniffled.

“Stella, I’m so sorry. I should have warned you or told you about it…” she confessed.

“I was the one who encouraged him to dance with her at that party in the first place. And you weren’t sure about what you saw and wanted to look after your child! it wasn’t you; I was the one who made him stray,” I added on.

We embraced each other, letting the waves of crying and guilt wash over us again, released and free.

She took my hand to help me up. She walked by me into the guest room. It had white wallpaper with blue flowers and green foliage dotted across it. There was a tall bed with white blankets and next to it a desk with a mirror on it. A chair with a pink pillow sat next to an unlit fireplace.

“I was the one who introduced you to him in the first place! All those years ago! Oh, all those years we all swooned and giggled over William, who would have thought!” she muttered with anguish.

I made no reply. She led me to sit up on the bed. I looked down at the diamond shapes on the carpet and began to comment on my thoughts.

“But you see…I let him be with her. I just never thought…never imagined…. Fanny I- I thought it was just at most a little infatuation with her, like every other man in town. I thought it was me he truly loved. I let them walk together for the Serpent. I let them dance. I let her dine with us. I never thought…I never imagined once that…. not until…”

I wrapped my arms around myself.

“I practically pushed him in front of her! It’s my fault! It’s my fault I got consumption! It’s my fault for encouraging him to do this! It’s my fault I told him to dance with her! And it’s my fault he betrayed me!” I mourned.

She handed me a handkerchief to sob into. I began to cough some blood into it as well. Her fists clenched at her sides.

“Did you…ever tell Will to sleep with her? Not dance- sleep with her!” she asked.

“No, I never did,” I answered.

“Of course, not… it’s not your fault, it's his! He did a vile, wretched thing! Your husband should be the one crawling to you for forgiveness! You’re the innocent one, you’ve not done one bad thing since your marriage!” she replied.

She removed my coat. She then hung it up to dry on a rack on the wall.

"I've done bad things, Fanny..."

“You made us dinner countless times, grew flowers for my wedding, and even helped delivered my Carrie, Stella! It’s the least I can do for you! You helped every woman and person in town! You should hear what the other people discuss about you when you’re not around! What they’ve all said about you for years! About how Father Ransome was gifted with the sweetest, most virtuous woman on earth to be his wife and mother to his children! How lucky he had been to have you at all!” she commented.

“Really? I…I thought for years I was the one lucky he picked me….” I muttered.

I felt myself smile from the praise.

“Oh no, really, all this time, it was the opposite!”

I bent my head and folded my arms, but then looked back up at her.

“I never…but I’m not that…I…I…I thank you, Fanny….”

A bit of rain from the coat dripped onto the carpet leaving a little stain. My nightgown had been stained not only with a little blood and a little rain but also with the green stains of the grass from the forest. I felt Fanny’s eyes lead down to them.

“Can I…can I have a change of clothes, please? I think we’re the same size…” I asked.

She left, and then returned with a new nightdress. She helped me change into it. Vince arrived with a small plate of leftover dinner and then left, giving us space to talk. Surprisingly, I was ravenous and finished it quickly. Fanny lighted up the fireplace with a bit of wood and a match. She then gripped me by the shoulders, almost knocking over the plate on my lap onto the floor.

“There is one phrase I want you to repeat to yourself throughout this, Stella…it is not your fault! Do you hear me? Let me hear you say it!” she ordered.

“It…it is not my fault…” I repeated.

“Good!”

The baby began to cry.

“Ah! Little Carrie! I’ll be back soon- she must be hungry…” she excused herself.

She stomped out as Vince closed the door. Despite the infant’s crying, I heard another angrier, adult crying right outside.

“Scoundrel! The nerve of him! Cruel, heartless man! I ought to strangle Father Ransome myself when he’s on the pulpit on Sunday!” Fanny ranted.

“Calm down, dear, the baby! I can go to her if you cannot!” Vince assured her.

“No, no! That’s her hungry cry! Let me!”

She let out a frustrated sigh and stomped off to the nursery, uttering numerous curses that would make a sailor blush beneath her breath.

Vince cracked the door open and poked his head through.

“Mrs. Ransome…I do have a telegram and operate where I work. Tomorrow…I can, uh, walk you through the back door…and-and do you know where your own family lives?”

“I know their addresses, yes,” I confirmed.

“You can use it to send a telegram to your family. First thing tomorrow…I’ll even pay.”

“No, I have money-“

“No, let me!” he insisted.

He was right. I could only access wages through my husband and then they were his, not mine. This would probably be the only money I would ever access. They had to be used carefully.

“Alright. Tomorrow, if I’m still alive…take me there and I’ll send them. One more thing…do you have stationary, Vince? May I have some, please?”

“Yes.”

He left and then returned with piles of paper and a pen and then left me to write.

Outside thunder boomed. The baby wailed again, and I heard Fanny shushing her. I lowered my head onto the desk away from the papers and ink. I took in what shaky breaths I could. Then I jolted up with a fear that left my insides feeling watery.

What if tonight was when the consumption won over me at last? What if this was the hour?

Then I couldn’t stop now. I had to act. I would not die without the town knowing. I would not die letting William get away with this. I would not die letting this become a secret between friends.

I took out a piece of paper. I felt another tear roll onto my nose. I had to confirm this. Confirm to them and myself that my worst nightmare had come true.

“Dear Congregation,

Here, I lay, a charge against my husband, your Rector, the Reverend William Ransome of the Aldwinter Vicarage. His crime is that, without my knowledge, without my acquiescence, he had formed and consummated an extramarital affair with…”

I finished the rest of it. Then I got another piece of paper and wrote some more. My urgency steeled me forth.

“Dear Ladies of The Aldwinter Bible Study,

I write to inform you that I am in dire need of help and comfort. My husband, Father William Ransome, is having an affair.

I saw him meeting with her. They were kissing, embracing, and committing unspeakable acts in the forest within miles of our house. I then discovered the letters from and to William documenting their passion and having them in my possession. I shall reveal his lover’s identity should you ask me unless you have your suspicions. You are probably correct as to who she is.

I have no desire to see him anymore after this. I will no longer stay in his house.

I am staying at Mrs. Kroeger’s for the time being. I need your support immediately. I need you to bring my children to visit me whenever they can without their father in their presence. If you may, look after them, shelter, feed, and protect Joanna, John, and James! You shall send letters to me through Mrs. Kroeger. I ask you, do not allow my husband to even enter the Kroeger household.

Most of all, I ask you, if there is nothing else you can do, pray for me. Pray that I have the strength to bear this great pain, not only in my body but in my heart. If you can send the comforting words and presence of a friend! Or a prayer- a prayer that someday, I will feel what it is once more to be happy, now as I lay on what might be my deathbed!

Sincerely,

Stella Ransome.”

As it finished drying, there was a furious knock on the door. I jumped out of my skin.

“Mr. Kroger! Mr. Kroger!” a familiar voice cried out from the outside of the house.

Of course, It was only a matter of time until he came here! What if he found and read the children’s letters on their beds, as Fanny and I feared?

But then- the letters between him and The Woman! They were in the parlor! If he got into the house, even if Vince and Fanny kept him at bay, he would see them out there and retrieve them! He was a tall, strong man fond of running. It would be easy for him.

Shaking uncontrollably, I hurried into the room quietly. If I had to rip them from his large, handsome hands, so be it, I would do it.

But he wasn’t there. William kept knocking again and again at the door, continuing to ask to be let inside.

Fanny and Vince walked into the parlor and then froze, staring at me with big, frightened eyes. I put a finger to my mouth for silence and they nodded. Then I scurried to the tea table, picked up the letters, and Fanny quietly shooed me back into the guest room. From inside, I locked the door.

William continued to plead with desperation, “Mr. Kroger- it’s your Rector! I must speak with you now!”

“He’s coming!” Fanny assured from inside with false cheerfulness.

I hid every letter- mine, The Woman’s, and Williams, and then the bag of money within the sheets of the bed and settled back there quickly. I then lay on top of it, letting my weight feel the crinkling paper. I forced myself still, despite my shaking. If he got in here and burst through the door, they would be hidden. I rarely saw William extremely angry. He wasn’t the type to lose his temper and destroy things, God forbid he would rip out the bedsheets his dying wife was laying over! Even if he burst in here, forced me in his arms, and carried me home like a hunter with his prize, the letters, and even the money would be safe.

I heard Vince’s footsteps towards the front door.

“I’m coming, Father Ransome,” he answered calmly.

Like a child, I covered myself under the blankets and placed another pillow over my ears, squeezing my eyes shut. I held myself tight and would not let go. My heart roared in my ears, and I fought back any urge to cough, no matter how much blood I tasted in my mouth. I tried to think of anything, anything to distract myself. Trying to play songs in my head, reciting scripture, poetry, bits of my books and love stories, my father’s Greek myths, anything to block it out. I couldn’t bear to think what was happening outside, that any minute I would be forced back into the house and bed of my husband. I had to remain silent. I would not give a hint in the house now I was here should he enter.

I heard male voices from outside, but they were muffled by the thunderstorm getting louder.

Some time passed. There were no voices. Only the rain and thunder. I was almost partway through trying to remember Wordsworth when I heard a knock on my door that made my skin crawl.

It was Fanny’s voice that said, “He’s gone, Stella.”

I let out an exhale and let go of the blankets and pillows. I went to the door.

“What did he say?” I asked in terror.

“He asked if you were here or if I saw you, Mrs. Ransome, he said you were missing from home,” Vince informed. “I told him you were not here; I hadn’t seen you all day, and that William should ask somewhere else or look in the morning.”

“You lied to him!” I cried in amazement, a hand flying over my mouth.

“If he can sin, then so can I…” he remarked.

“But rest assured, he is no longer here, and he won’t be welcome in here…if we have to lie a hundred times, we’ll do it!” Fanny promised, she reached over and squeezed my shoulder in comfort.

I took one of the black blankets from the guest room and draped it over my shoulders. I took out the letters I wrote and found the envelopes where I left them. I folded and inserted the second letter in one and addressed it to Mrs. Lee’s house for The Women’s Bible Study as well as her, our eternal hostess. I wasn’t sure where to mail the first letter. If I mailed it to the church or asked for it to be printed in the bulletin, William would find it and read it. Most likely, he would destroy it easily to absolve the public knowledge of his affair.

No, it would need to be spread, I mused. Not only the Women’s Bible Study, but the congregation and every person in Aldwinter-had to know the truth about their priest. One easily destroyed letter wouldn’t do. I took out another piece of paper and began making a copy of it. And then another. Word would spread and if one was destroyed, then Hydra-like, another would appear in the next house in its place.

I hoped that at least the women of the Bible Study would read the letter for them and would use their most common weapon, the one they unsheathed at every study meeting before and after the Bibles were opened, my small sin, the one indulgence I gave myself to every time in the past- they would talk. And talking spreads.

Please, please, let them talk! I prayed.

I began to take out more pieces of paper and copy down the letter by hand as much as I could. I had managed a tenth letter when it chimed midnight. I sat at my chair, staring at the fireplace as it slowly burned the small logs.

Logs.

Wood.

The tree.

The tree with the blue ribbon.

The tree where they sinned in front of me.

I took out the pink pillow and hugged it to me. I heard a gentle knock.

“Stella, are you awake?” Fanny asked.

“Yes.”

I unlocked the door to see her and Vince.

“Do you need anything else?” Vince asked.

“Mr. Kroeger, you’re already taking me to the post office in the morning… Fanny, tomorrow, this letter must go to Mrs. Lee’s house. And these- these are copies of the same letter- if you could send them to any member of the congregation or anyone in town who knows of me, even. Please- put it in their boxes and slip it under their doors. I’d be grateful.”

She nodded her dark, curly head. I placed the envelopes into her small hand. Vince leaned closer to her and placed an arm over her shoulder, kissing the side of her forehead.

“My wife always was a little Valkyrie! All the more reason I love her!” Vince boasted.

To think I once had a love like that. I thought I would be happy dying as I was William Ransome's wife and the mother of his children. Back when I thought he loved me. Now here I was, to die without the love of my husband. A husband who I still loved, but could not return to.

I knew I had the love and loyalty of friends. I had to now learn to content myself with that. I didn’t know if a romantic love could ever enter my heart again after this, should I live even to the next week. I've learned my lesson from William. I couldn’t allow that anymore. No, I would only be opening myself to be hurt again.

“Of course, I will, first thing tomorrow morning…I’ll even lock them in the safe until then,” she promised.

Fanny looked down at the letters reading them. She swallowed hard, but her eyes were hard and resolved.

“Keep them safe as you walk and make sure they are delivered directly,” I requested.

“We shall…but Stella, it’s quite late!” she insisted. She even looked at the clock, frowning.

I looked back at the burning logs in the fireplace.

“I cannot sleep…I cannot stop thinking about William and…William and C-C-C-could you perhaps make another cup of tea for me?”

Vince put his hands on his hips and then turned halfway away to the parlor.

“I think tonight you need something stronger than tea, Mrs. Ransome!” he said.

He went out and returned with a huge decanter of golden whiskey in one hand and three glasses in another. He poured me a generous amount in one cup and forced it into my hands.

“But Vince…I really ought not to drink when it’s not a holiday…” I asked.

“When men learn they are dying, they drink. When men learn their wives have fucked another, they drink. You’re both- so twice the reason. Let’s drink. All of us…” Vince said.

Fanny poured herself a glass. I sat on the chair and they were on the floor. I stared into the liquid in my cup. I still didn't get rid of it, the unfamiliar smell and color fascinated me, enticed me. I felt myself raise the glass closer to my lips. Then it froze in hesitation.

“It will relax you…” Vince promised.

“If there is one night you become a drunkard, it’s this one…” she suggested.

Vince raised his cup. Fanny and I followed.

“Here…to Stella! May Reverend Ransome one day rot in hell! And may Stella Ransome live a little longer!” Vince toasted.

“To Stella!” Fanny repeated.

“To…to me…” I replied hesitantly.

I began to take the first drink in tandem with them. I coughed a little at the burn. Fanny brought a little water and a plate of fudge.

“You might need some sweets as well after today…” she offered.

Vince downed his whiskey in two big swigs.

“Who could imagine it? Mrs. Stella Ransome, The English Rose herself, drinking in my house!” Vince joked with a laugh.

Outside, I heard the rain pelt right over the roof and the grandfather clock chimed a quarter past.

“Well, who could imagine Father William Ransome an unfaithful bastard!” Fanny responded bitterly.

She frowned and drank hers. She kept a tight grip on the glass as if she wanted it to shatter in her hands.

I ate some fudge and sipped on the water. Then I sipped the whiskey again. Vince was right. The whiskey, far stronger than my occasional cup of wine, was relaxing me. I even felt my eyelids become heavy and I loosened my shoulders.

When I looked at the fire, I noticed that the center of the flames and the very bottom of it were a bright, light blue. Small, but present and in the heart of the fire. Slowly, I nursed at the whiskey until I finished it. Fanny led me to the bed and tucked me in. They left. The room became darker save for the fire’s glow. It was warm and comfortable. For once, I could be a child again. Some of the old lullabies my mother sang to me in girlhood entered my mind:

“Lavender's blue, dilly dilly, lavender's green, When I am king, dilly dilly, you shall be queen”

In my younger days, I shared a bed with Elliott. When I was ten, I shared a bed with Edith, my little sister. Her now being old enough, Elliott being too old, and there being only a few beds to go around in the Harris houses. Edith and I still shared that bed when we moved to Aldwinter. It cut down on the cost of Father buying two separate ones. Then I entered William’s bed as his bride. I never had a whole bed all to myself until that night.

For that, as well as many things- the kindness and courage of Fanny and her husband, their belief in my word, their shelter, their protection from my husband, the food, the drinks, the access to papers for letters, the room that could lock, and now, this soft, warm bed that was completely mine if only for a night- I was grateful.

I grew more and more sleepy and even more at peace. I soon fell asleep in peace and woke up, rested, to sunshine late the next morning.

Vince managed to find extra clothes for me to wear, as well as a coat, shawl, and a hat not only for warmth but to avoid recognition. With his careful arm to steady and keep me up should weakness stir my legs, he walked me the back way into the post office where he worked, led me to a room, and seated me in front of a telegram machine, showing me how to form the message into it.

To think how different everything was just a year ago. I had my health. I had my husband. Now I had lost both, I thought, trying to think of what I could tell my family.

Vince sat over the chair and kept an eye out for any unwanted eyes or visitors in the tiny, musty, brown room.

“It costs you per word. So, my advice- make them short and put ‘stop’ in between them,” he warned

I began the first one.

WILLIAM HAS A MISTRESS. STOP.

HURRY TO ALDWINTER SOON AS YOU CAN. STOP.

I could hardly realize the words as I wrote them to be typed and sent off to my family members where they were. That was to be sent to my parents. I began the one for my brother, Brian.

WILLIAM HAS A MISTRESS. STOP.

HURRY TO ALDWINTER SOON AS YOU CAN. STOP.

My other siblings had to be notified too. I kept writing the words over and over each on different scraps of paper I ripped off. I kept typing again and again at an anxious and desperate speed, the words glaring back at me.

WILLIAM HAS A MISTRESS STOP.

HURRY TO ALDWINTER SOON AS YOU CAN. STOP

WILLIAM HAS A MISTRESS. STOP.

WILLIAM HAS A MISTRESS.

WILLIAM. HAS A MISTRESS.

STOP.

I finished the last one. Vince made sure of the rest- that they would be sent off to my family members. We then quickly returned to his house without incident. I made sure the curtains on the windows were closed once I got back in the room. I had just removed the hat and coat when a knock on the door made me jump. Vince peeked through the curtains and confirmed it was his wife.

Fanny then entered the parlor, smiling triumphantly with a clenched hand over her head.

“I sent the letters without interruption- to Mrs. Lee and to each Congregation member I could!” she reported.

Now all I had to do was wait.

Wait for a response to my letters. For a word from friends. For a word from my family. For William’s knock. For a visitor. For help. For my children. For death. Anything.

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imagine-it-to-be-true · 3 years

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Fix You - Caius Volturi x FemOC Three Shot: Part 1

Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading. Hope you like the one shot. I do take requests! Please have a look at my list of characters, and the rules. Feel free to reach out.

Notes about the One Shot:

Summary: As Caius walked around the streets of Volterra, he came across a girl being assaulted and badly injured. He couldn't explain the pull he had towards her, but all he knew was that he needed to save her. Caius Volturi x Fem!OC. Mentions of blood, injury and death. Nothing too gruesome though. Also posted on my Fanfiction page.

Word count: 2679

Firstly, I don’t own Twilight, the Volturi, or the image used.

I sincerely apologize for my Italian and Greek phrases; I don’t speak a word of the languages and was at the mercy of Google Translate.

Caius’ wife Athenodora does not exist.

Also, imagine him how you want but I much preferred his appearance in New Moon, so that’s how I described him.

~ Enjoy :)

Cloud cover in Volterra was a rare sight. Most days the sun shone brightly, making the town not particularly an ideal place for vampires. Yet here they were, the powerful three, the ancient kings who were tasked with up-keeping and enforcing secrecy of the vampire world, in a town where they remained inside the walls of the Volturi Castle. Caius often wondered why the coven chose to remain there, and not move to a less sunny place. A lack of opportunities for outings meant that he was falling intellectually behind. One need not look further than his clothes, not to mention his mentality to see he was not one for modernity. Not that he cared. Humans and their achievements were so minuscule in his eyes. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the opportunity to venture out into the town, feel the cool breeze on cloudy days like today and observe the lesser kind. It was remarkable for him how the world changed since his childhood in Ancient Greece, yet the scape of Volterra harked back to it with its old buildings.

Caius was lonely. He was angry and cruel; many would even say sadistic. But no, the last part was not true. After over 3000 years of living alone, never aging, never moving forward, being forced to hide himself, and never seizing to hunger, it’s no surprise that one would become angry. But he was not a sadist. He did not enjoy the pain of others. He fed only when he could no longer contain his thirst, not over-indulging himself. But he understood the need for justice, and was not tolerant when punishment was due. This was often mistaken for sadism.

Volterra was extra busy lately due to an overwhelming influx in tourism. One could no longer walk in peace. The pushing and shoving of the crowded streets became too much for Caius. He looked around him, and noticed a less busy street to his right. The more he followed, the less people were there. He kept going until he was left alone, in peace, and stopped, and leaned his back against the wall, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. And that is when he heard it.

From his right, came a feminine scream. It snapped Caius out of his thoughts. It sounded desperate, and then quieted down before he heard the female’s voice again, yelling in English with an American accent, “PLEASE! Somebody help me!” In one swift motion, Caius pushed himself from the wall and walked towards the pleas. He rounded a corner and between two buildings, there was a thin, dark alleyway. It was there that he found the source of the commotion.

A tall, heavy-built balding man had a significantly smaller female pinned up against the wall with his body. His left hand grasped her around the neck, while the other clutched a gun to her head. Caius spoke Italian - one of the many languages he’s mastered - so he understood plainly the filth coming out of the lowlife’s mouth as he barked at the poor girl. She, however, was clueless and sobbing, begging him to leave her.

In the split moment that he observed the scene, Caius’ eyes landed on the female. She was small, about 5”2, looked to be in her early twenties and very slim. Her hair was golden blonde, long and fell in thick, luscious curls down her back. She did not appear to be wearing much makeup, yet her eyebrows were naturally prominent and neat, and her lips were full, petal pink in colour. But it was her eyes which Caius noticed immediately. They were large and the most captivating colour: a mix of emerald and sapphire. It was as if staring into the waters of a deep, stormy ocean. However, when they met his eyes, they were full of terror. She quieted her struggle and looked at him, as if calmed by his presence, mentally begging him to save her.

Typically, Caius did not give two thoughts about humans. Yet this time was different. The girl before him stirred something inside of his frozen ancient heart. His eyes shifted from the girl and landed on the lowlife.

“Togli le mani da lei, feccia.” (Get your hands off her, Scum.) he snarled.

The man jumped in surprise and turned towards Caius. When he saw him, the lowlife sneered. Compared to him, Caius did not look all that threatening. He was tall and well-built, but thinner than the scum. His fashion choices didn’t help either. His near-white blonde hair combed to perfection and pushed behind his ears. He wore a blood-red dress shirt, paired with a black blazer and black dress pants, topped off with a silky red scarf. He looked like an escaped runway model, not a man that could do damage.

The man Caius addressed continued sneering and chuckling.

“Cosa hai intenzione di fare al riguardo, bel ragazzo?” (What are you going to do about it, pretty boy?)

Caius took a large step forward and retorted, “Strapparti la testa e bere il tuo sangue è divertente?” (Does ripping your head off and drinking your blood sound like fun?)

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise at the viciousness, but still obviously not taking the situation seriously. He laughed and turned back to the girl.

“Vedi, bella ragazza? Sta cercando di mettersi in mostra per te. Ma è solo un ragazzo. Lascia che ti mostri cosa fanno gli uomini.” (You see, pretty girl? He's trying to show off for you. But he's just a boy. Let me show you what men do.)

Before Caius had a chance to comprehend or react, within a fraction of a second, the gun pressed against the girl’s temple was lowered. The scum aimed it at her stomach and shot twice. She screamed in pain, and dropped to the ground, gasping.

Caius took a second longer than normal to realize what had just unfolded. The man had the gun pointed at him now. He aimed at his chest and fired. When Caius was hit, he did nothing but stand there. Then came the second shot and to the scum’s surprise, he did not drop. A smirk began to form on the vampire’s face, before he simply said, “Avresti dovuto scappare quando ne avevi la possibilità.” (You should have ran when you had the chance.)

As the man continued pointlessly shooting at Caius, the vampire closed the distance between them in less than a second. He grasped the man’s neck with his right hand and pressed him up against the wall, lifting him up with one arm. The man squirmed and groaned, futilely attempting to free himself. Caius didn’t enjoy hurting people. But this time was different. He snapped the man’s neck and threw him down, like discarded trash. He took a breath and turned to the girl on the ground.

She was no longer making sounds nor moving, but lay there motionless, face down on the ground. Caius could see a large red spot in her stomach area, with blood seeping through the thin fabric of her white summer dress, her blonde curls hanging like closed curtains over her face. Caius leaned down, extending a hand to gently move them aside. He pushed the curls behind her ear, running his knuckles down her soft cheek. Those beautiful storm eyes were closed.

“Can you hear me?” He whispered to her, but she did not stir.

Caius felt a deep pain in the pit of his stomach, and a pressure rising up to his throat. He felt anger, rage, but most prominently sorrow. He had this feeling like he never wanted anything more in his life than for her to look at him and say she was alright. The situation was not made easier by the fact that her deliciously smelling blood was pooling more and more.

Quickly, he reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out his iPhone. Alec had gifted it to him the year before, and this was the first time he’d use it. He couldn’t figure out the damned thing; books and scripts were more useful anyway. With some effort, he found the number he was looking for in his contacts and dialled it. The ringing seemed to go on for ages, until finally…

“Dr. Carlisle Cullen speaking.”

“Cullen. You are speaking to Caius.” He barked into the phone. A silence followed before Carlisle hesitantly responded, a hint of fear in his voice at what the Volturi king might want.

“Lord Caius. I was not expecting you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I am with a human. She was shot with a gun in her stomach twice. There is a significant amount of blood. She is not responding to me. Her eyes are closed and she is not moving. What shall I do?” He spoke in a hard, fact-based tone.

“Well Caius, it sounds like she might be dead…” before Carlisle could finish his thought, Caius cut him off.

“You are foolish to think that I would waste my precious time calling you to hear something so unacceptable. Tell me how to fix her!”

“Okay, I’m not sure if she can be. But let’s try. I need you to put the phone on speaker.”

“What is that?! Talk quickly Cullen, her bleeding has not seized!”

“Okay, Caius, you see the small picture of a loudspeaker on your phone? Push it.”

Caius did as he was told. “Now what?”

“Put the phone down on the ground. I need you to turn her on her back. GENTLY! Don’t forget you’re a lot stronger than her.”

Caius gently pushed the girl’s shoulders and was able to turn her on her back, grabbing her head so it did not hit the concrete. It was then that the significance of the wound became apparent, as did the scent of her blood. It became nearly too much for the vampire. He was close to damning it all and indulging in her sweet taste. But then he looked at her perfect face. How he longed to see those beautiful eyes again.

In a struggling voice, he spoke, “Alright, it is done.”

“Now, take your index and middle finger and push both to her neck, under her chin, on the side of her throat. You should feel her heartbeat if she’s alive.”

Caius did as he was told, but initially could feel nothing. After a few failed attempts, he hung his head. Just as he was about to remove his fingers, he felt it. So faint and tiny, but it was there.

“I feel it! It is very faint! But I feel it.”

Carlisle waited a moment before speaking. “Can you describe the wounds to me? Where are they specifically?”

“They are both in the same place. One is at the base of her ribs to the left, and the second is just under it.”

Carlisle sighed and softly spoke, “Caius. She’s not going to make it. She’s on her last few breaths now, and we can prolong her suffering, but we can’t-“.

“No!” Caius cut him off, “She will not die. There must be something to be done!”

“Well… you could always change her.”

Caius let out a breath. He would not wish his own endless existence on anyone. Not to mention the unbelievably excruciating pain of the process. After 3000 years, there was one thing he remembered with vivid accuracy: his own change. But at the same time, he was in a panic. He was not sure what it was, but the thought of her dying was destroying him inside.

He swallowed and spoke in a gentler voice to Carlisle, “Is there any way to manage her pain during the change?”

“Morphine. It needs to be injected before the venom. Give it 5 minutes to take effect and then change her.”

“Thank you,” Caius whispered before hanging up.

He immediately gathered the woman into his arms, lifting her up with ease, and began running back to the castle. He made it in a matter of minutes, storming through the doors of the great gathering hall, where Aro and Marcus were speaking to Jane. Immediately, all eyes were on Caius and the little bundle in his arms.

“Brother,” greeted Aro with his child-like smile, “you came home with takeout, I see,” he cackled.

“No! Do not approach me now brother. I wish to change her, and so it will be. No one comes near her!” Caius exclaimed. His two fellow kings looked at each other, befuddled. “Jane,” Caius turned to her, “find me a shot of morphine immediately and bring it to my chambers.” With this, he stormed out of the hall.

Aro, with a confused look on his face, took a step to follow, only to be held back by Marcus. “He cannot just bring some random off the street and claim her as his own!” He exclaimed, but Marcus shook his head and smiled.

“I felt their bond. He has bound himself to her. Neither might realize this yet, but they are mated. She is his now.”

———

Caius rushed her to his room. He gently placed her on his bed, which he hadn’t used in years for obvious reasons. As he laid her down, the girl began to gain consciousness. She began feeling the pain of her injuries. Tears started fall down her cheeks and she softly, weakly moaned in pain.

Caius sat down next to her, brushing her tears away with his thumb, gently pushing her hair back away from her face.

“Shh, it’s alright. Breathe.” She seemed to respond to this by attempting to open her eyes, yet not having enough energy to do so. Caius was dying inside, seeing her suffer. He couldn’t explain why. This was the first time in 3000 that he cared so deeply about the well-being of anyone, let alone a weak human.

“Breathe for me. That’s it. You’re alright.” He whispered. She tried, but couldn’t. She attempted to say something along the lines of “I don’t want to die,” but was only emitting squeaks.

“Shhh, don’t talk. He’s gone, I’ve got you. There is not a place in the world safer than here with me.”

Just then, Jane burst through Caius’ doors with a large syringe filled with clear liquid. She quickly handed it to Caius and stepped back, lingering. Caius turned to her and harshly barked, “Leave!” She bowed and turned on her heels, heading out the door.

The girl had opened her eyes briefly and saw the large syringe. This frightened her, and she attempted to cower away. Caius returned his attention to her.

“Shhhh. Don’t be afraid. This will help you stop hurting. I will fix this. I will fix you,” As he spoke those words, a tear formed in his own eyes and rolled down his cheek. He was about to change her. Was it really fixing her, or was he selfishly wishing she would fix him? Give him companionship he so longed for? He didn’t care. He took the syringe and injected the morphine into her quickly, being as gentle as he could. Then, he waited. He needed her to stop crying. This would indicate the pain was gone and the morphine had taken effect. He held her hand, whispering sweet nothings to her. When she began quieting, he gently asked her.

“What is your name, omorfiá mou?” (My beauty), the last part in his native Greek.

She gasped and whispered, “Andromeda.”

Caius smiled and thought about how fitting the name was. The pain was gone now. He turned to her and brushed her hair out of her face.

“Close your eyes, my beauty.” He gently brushed her hair back away from her neck. Leaning down, he brushed his lips on her ear, whispering “do not be afraid. You will live forever. You are mine now, and I will never let anything hurt you again.”

With that, he sunk his teeth into her soft skin, and the journey to her transformation began.

#twilight #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #volturi #caius #caius volturi #one shot #hurt comfort #romance #caius volturi imagine #vampire

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the-huntress · 3 years

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Little Moth - Chapter 1 - The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning

[Hi guys, welcome to my fanfiction. This is a Resident Evil inspired fanfiction, I wanted to incorporate a number of my favourite characters, and especially our beloved Magnet Daddy. Slow burn, soft smut impending, beyond that who knows… But to be safe I will say that this is for 18+ years of age only. Let me know if you’d liked to be on a tag list for future chapters. Masterlist is pinned. Thank you to everyone that has read so far. <3]

Masterlist

Trigger Warnings: Mention of menstruation, swearing.

Y/N Protagonist, female. Reader X Karl Heisenberg [18+]

Summary:

Your lifelong friend, Leon Kennedy, has mysteriously gone missing two years after the events of Racoon City. You make a discovery that could lead to his whereabouts; dare you enter the Village?

[Photos are my own] You weren’t sure exactly what you were looking at for a moment, arching your back forwards over the desk in the dimly lit room, the glare from the laptop the only source of light. Several windows had been left open on the screen, and despite the turmoil that Leon’s apartment had been left in, this was what had really grabbed your attention.

The most notable of which was a photo, the resolution was grainy, a scan from a black and white film photo, it looked almost like a foetus, but you couldn’t be sure. Was somebody pregnant? It was almost akin to the sort of photograph that expecting parents would show at a baby shower, but this was… different. You had a feeling of impending doom just by looking at this thing.

Next, another very grainy photo of a town, it almost looked like some of the places from back home in England; a church steeple, a castle or maybe a mansion in the distance? A quaint looking village in the snow. And lastly, a very cryptic email;

10/10/2000

Leon,

Know not what I have done, but what I believe must be done now.

Half of the results of good intentions are evil; half of the results of an evil intention are good.

You have the information that you need, please make haste.

A friend.

Well, that’s ambiguous as fuck. You thought to yourself, pushing the chair back and pulling the lighter from the little band on the side of your cap. You reached to your shoulder and cursed. That’s right, you’d given up, “for health reasons”. Putting the lighter back you reached instead for your camera, a notepad and a pen. You’d been tempted to just take the laptop and the scattered papers, but after several years in the police you knew it was beneficial to leave things as they were. Your eyes flitted from paper to paper, taking notes of numbers, flights, times, place names, anything that you could until you’d filled a couple of pages. One page for practical info, and one page, now that you looked at it almost sounded like a fairy tale;

A village, four kings, four lords, and a mysterious ‘Mother Miranda’. You bit the end of the pen and pondered. It was like nothing you’d ever heard of before, what had he got himself into…

Several days ago you had received a text from the man himself;

‘Y/N I am going to be out of

town for a while, something has

come up. Please don’t worry,

will explain soon. Leon. X

P.S. I’ve left Timesplitters in

your mail box, play you again

when I get back! :] ’

And now here you were. You scoffed knowing he’d have had to pay double to send that one, but he was mad to think that you wouldn’t worry, he was like a brother to you, hell, the only family that you had. After a childhood growing up in rural England you had moved to the states with your father and stepmother when you were in those vulnerable years of your teens during the early 90s, but were lucky enough to have met Leon in school. The two of you had become best friends quickly, and even graduated from the same police academy. It was Leon that saved your butt two years ago when all hell broke loose in Racoon City, him and Claire.

You shifted on the collapsible chair in front of the usually neatly tidied desk which was now strewn with various papers and articles. Your thoughts of Claire continued, and you pulled out your Nokia, opened a message and then faltered. It was late. Later than late you realised, seeing the time; 02:08 AM. What am I doing? You didn’t want to wake her, so you put the phone back into the pocket on your belt.

You swept a strand of your hair behind your ear, the outgrown bangs jumping back in the way and you blew at them irritated. You heard a grumble and moaned, looking down at your stomach. Padding across the shiny, tiled floor you left the desk and headed to the kitchen, opening the fridge where you knew there would be left-over pizza. Sure, it was from over a week ago when you were last here hanging out, but hey, it’s pizza, right?

‘Ugh dude, always with the anchovies, why?’ you mumbled, flinging a small fish into the bin and mentally backhanding the back of Leon’s head. Of course, it was his side of the pizza that was left over, probably trying to stay in shape in case he bumped into ‘Ada’ again. You weren’t keen, but then, you didn’t trust her. You looked at your phone again, left on the desk besides the laptop, Leon would be much better off with Claire, but sadly you felt perhaps that ship had set sail long ago.

You went to sit yourself back down at the desk. CRUNCH “Shit!” Your eyes darted to your right knee. “Fuck… you’re not giving me a break are you.” Letting out a sigh you closed your eyes for a moment. Since you were a child your knee had given you problems. A few dislocations, hospital visits, insteps, braces and physiotherapy. You’d had to grit your teeth hard through every physical training session during academy, but you’d made it. Fortunately for you it wasn’t something that many people would be able to notice or spot. You could run for miles with no problem; it was the recovery time in the days that followed that was tough. You knew it was getting worse, and had been reading about how much longer you might have before you’d need a full replacement, but you knew that it could jeopardise your job, you knew you’d likely not get put on the jobs that you wanted, and the thought of being put into the office answering calls made your heart sink.

And then you spotted it, the corner of another window was sticking out from under the others, exposing the corner of a third photograph. Instantly recognising the symbol you felt as though you were falling.

“What…”

Dragging the window and clicking it to full screen you could see this photograph clearly; some kind of mural, was it in stone? It looked as though there were four crests, family crests maybe. And at the centre; “Umbrella.” You breathed. You stared at it for several minutes and quickly took a photo of the screen on your camera, no point trying to get that old thing to work, you thought, looking at the printer at the other end of the desk. You couldn’t help but smirk, memories of Leon trying to print page after page of game walk throughs, whilst trying to find all the secrets in your favourite action/ adventure game, and laughing your head off at him, mouthful of noodles spilling back out into the carton as a hundred pages shot out at him, flying all over the room with cheat codes for a scantily dressed version of the playable character.

You looked at the clock again, time to go. If you were going to do this, you needed sleep and to get going as soon as you could the next day. It might drain your bank account, but it would be worth it. You didn’t have a good feeling about any of this, and more often than not, your gut instincts were right. Grabbing your R.P.D jacket at the door, you took one last glance at the room. It really did look like a whirlwind had hit it, not like Leon when he was in a better mental state at all. You knew that when he wasn’t his best he’d reach a for a drink and then some, but you could see that nothing was broken, and it was mostly clothes scattered, some bits of equipment and where he’d clearly got the luggage bag down from on top of the wardrobe. Nothing to worry about in regard to kidnap or a break in at least; as if that was enough to stop you from worrying about whatever lay ahead in this ‘Village’.

It started to rain just as you got into your apartment building, and you smiled. You’d always liked the rain. Stopping to quickly check your pigeon-hole for mail and seeing nothing you felt something press up against you calf, rubbing itself against the tops of your boots. You looked down and grinned, scooping up a slender, black cat in one hand and kissing the top of her head. “I’m going to miss you Boo, keep an eye on my mail for me while I’m gone, you know how crammed that thing gets.” You winked at her as you set her back down outside Mrs. Little’s door and fished a sandwich bag full of the leftover pizza anchovies out of your R.P.D. bag. “You didn’t think I’d forget you, did you?” Leaving Boo hastily munching into her treats you jogged up the stairs, your knee twinged, but it wasn’t too bad. It just had its moments.

Your apartment was pretty standard for this part of the city; both you and Leon had left Racoon city some time ago, though it wasn’t far from here. It had been destroyed and bordered off and that was all there was too it. You had to tell it to yourself that way to cope. Leon’s apartment was slightly swankier, but then again, he did like his gadgets and liked to keep things tidy, when his thoughts weren’t somewhere else. You on the other hand were happy to know that while everything had its place, sometimes that place would be on the floor… next to the thingy and nestled safely under a cereal box; and that was okay! You picked up the thingy, and looked at it fondly, before folding it up and putting it away with the others.

Stretching and yawning you looked around you, making a mental note of what needed to be done; pack, shower, sleep. You’d get the tickets the next day, and some money too, you’d have to stop off at the currency exchange. What currency did they even use there? Equipment, keep it simple; knives, pistol, rounds, lighter, fluid, compass, torch, camera, medi-kit. A couple of spare pairs of clothes, and you had your light armour that also fit into the case. You knew the contents would raise suspicion, but you had your badge, at the end of the day another cop had gone missing, and your team knew too.

You whipped off the remainder of your uniform and jumped in the shower, the bathroom filling up with steam and bubbles quickly and you sang along to a few songs on the radio. Wiping the mirror to see yourself more clearly you felt all your insecurities flood to you at once, as well as seeing yourself for the natural beauty that you were. You pursed your lips, staring into your own eyes and promised you’d find him safe and bring him back. He’d yell at you for going in the first place, but you knew this wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right. Traipsing out from the bathroom, you felt the cool air attack your flushed skin. You liked it, you were always a window open kind of person, no matter the weather, the fresh air just soothed you. Of course, that meant the odd moth now and again, like now as you heard the tiny body plummet time and time again against the spherical glass shade of the dim lamp besides your bed. Snuggling up into the loose blankets you smiled at the little creature and pulled the cord on the lamp, smiling again as you felt the moth settle on the side of your head.

After that you actually fell to sleep very quickly. It had been a long day after all; a 6AM start, patrol, arresting some juvies for petty crimes, followed by yet another zombie scare, (false alarm thank God), before filing up all the paper work and heading to Leon’s. Sleep fell like a veil of cool clouds, taking you in and raising you up into the inky blue skies of the night. The next thing you knew, you were butt naked in a dark green forest, dew drops shining on moss like a trillion tiny emeralds. Mist hung thick in the air, and thousands of tiny moths flew up from the ground? No. From you. You were raising your arms up to the skies, the moss covered forest floor moist under your bare feet and between your toes. Behind you the silhouette of a deer… antlers, but much, much taller. In front of you a pair of cold silver-gold eyes in the dark. You felt drawn, ever so drawn, taking one step forward, and then another, your arms coming down now, hands outstretched in caring caress, your heart swelled, your lips bloomed, taking in a short breath, and then; blood. Gushes of it, soaking into the moss, reddening Earth’s green carpet, and dripping down the trunks of the trees, the moths falling from the air around you, their wings sticking and stopping in the thick, red mess.

“Shit!” You fell back down onto your bed, several items around you also crashing down. Hand to your head, you looked wildly about. It happened again. Whatever had fallen this time had been heavy. You turned to see half the cutlery that had been lying on the kitchen tops now on the floor, and the knives and pistol that you’d placed earlier on top of the luggage bag were now in the middle of the floor. A sudden feeling of loneliness washed over you. The same dream, but longer, and this time with blood. “Shit” again, you put a hand to your pants, pulled the covers back and saw red. “Well, that’s one more thing I need to bring with me.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes, and throwing yourself back onto the bed.

Song Suggestion: ‘The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning’ by The Smashing Pumpkins

#resident evil #resident evil fanfic #resident evil smut #resident evil 8 #resident evil 2 #resident evil village #leon kennedy #Karl Heisenberg #mother miranda #resident evil heisenberg #karl heisenberg fanfic #karl heisenberg fluff

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mystiiknight3 · 3 years

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The Pirate and The Geisha

Something I have been working on her is part of the story, Katakuri has been one of my favorite in One Piece, I decided to create a female character for him. *Side note all my One Piece fanficts are connected just wait and see* **I don’t own any rights to One Piece or its story**

Katukuri and Misako

Misako braided her long black hair into a bun, her deep blue eyes were covered with eye shadow and make up at only 29 the makeup made her look much older. “He is just another client Misako don’t worry it will be over soon” she whispered to herself. A knocked loomed at her door when it open, she saw the extremely tall man walk in she was already ten ft tall herself, but he had a good six more inches on her. He had tan skin and pink spiked hair he wore all long scarf around his mouth, and he was wearing an all-black biker outfit with boots too match. “I take it you are Misako?” his voice was stern and deep. “Yes sir,” she replied looking down, his biker looks scared her men especially pirate was harsh to the women who worked here, she hated working at this brothel. She undid her kimono allowing it to fall showing her curvaceous body, Katakuri stared he wasn’t here for that, yes, he paid for her “comfort” but was here for information nothing more.

Her beauty was flawless though she had long pale legs and wide hips she had a little fat on her stomach but her breast was full and supple her height intrigued him as well she had to be a part of either the giant tribe or the long-legged tribe. “You can put that back on Misako, I am not here for that.” he spoke, she looked confused at his statement, “I am confused sir, what are you here for then.” she asked picking up her kimono and wrapping her body up, she was relieved he wasn’t here for that but why else pay so much for a whore? “Your most recent client he stole something form my mother Big Mom I am here to find him and the object that he stole.” he moved in closer to the room and sat in the chair. “Sir I cannot tell you who has purchased my services.” she sat at the end of the bed head still hanging low.

He could feel her fear, she was sweating and trembling like she was ready to cry. “Why not?” he asked? “Because my customers value my discretion and secrecy and even if you paid me more money to tell you their secrets my master would have me beat and take any money that you give me, so I apologize sir I cannot help you.” she sobbed, Katakuri could see the bruised along her arm. “His name is Sho, he was a pirate from my mother's crew he has brown hair kind of fat and sloppy he is rough with women I come to understand he was rough with you, we can help each other” Katakuri was trying to reason with her, he didn’t want to get violent with her she had seen enough of that.

Misako began laughing, “sir I been roughed up enough times and I know exactly who you are talking about, he was cruel with all of us especially the younger ones, but the head master of this brothel told us to please him what ever took because he was from a famous pirate Crew and that he worked directly under you, so forgive me but it seems whether I tell you or don’t tell you pardon my language I am fucked either way.” she retorted. Katakuri was surprised at her speech while she was correct, and he felt for her he needed to know where Sho went. “He left town a day ago saying he was going to travel to the land of Wano to join Kaido, that’s all I have I know nothing of the item you speak of.” she sighed knowing nothing good could come out of her kindness. Katakuri rose to leave, he dug in his pocket and gave her the money he had in his pockets it was a few hundred dollars. “I will make sure that your master knows nothing of this, this Is for the excellent service you provided, miss Misako.” he walked out the door.

“Ahh Master Katakuri I hope that Misako was to your liking she is our most prized woman here.” the short greasy man greeted Katakuri, “she was perfect I wonder how you acquired such a beauty?” he asked. “Before she was here, she was a whore at a very classy brothel in the city their top girl people would pay billions just to watch her dance, she killed some high ranking official and was sold to me as punishment.” he shrugged. “So, she was always a slave?” katakuri inquired further. “That I do not know good sir.” Katakuri grunted and walked away from the man. “Will we be seeing you again?” he asked. “Most likely no I have had my fill of this place.” Katakuri replied.

Misako sat on her bed she hid the money in s secret place hopping that no one would find it. The whores here were not like the ones she was used to and grew up with, they had morals and class, there was loyalty between the women a sister hood, here the women are savages all fighting to please their master, what she wouldn’t give to just go back. “Misako!!” Henry shouted from outside her door before he burst in. “You did very well Katakauri –sama seemed pleased with you and he even gave me a hefty tip. Well, done you can clean yourself up and retire for the evening no more work for you tonight.” Henry rubbed his hands together he waited in the room, “thank you Master Henry I am glad I could please him and you.” she smiled faking the gratitude she hated the little runt. He left the room, she walked to her private bath, the blessing about being the bottom bitch was privacy when you bathed.

Katakuri arrived back at his ship where his brothers sat in waiting for him, Daifuku and Oven sat at the table waiting his arrival, “how did it go?” they asked in Unicent. “He is heading to Wano with the information, you two go catch him the woman said he left a day ago you should be able to catch him; remember to bring him back alive. Mama will surely want to deal with him personally.” he stated sitting down at the table. “What will you do big brother?” Oven asked? “I will stay here no need in all of us going besides we should expand mama’s territory this little island is not too far from the island it can be a scout look out for enemies.” he stated. “Or there is something else here that has your attention brother.” Diafuku stated, “Leave it alone Daifuku no one asked your opinion just go.” Katakuri stated.

Chapter two

Misako laid in her uncomfortable straw bed, it was a restless night she wasn’t going to get any sleep party goers were still in the bar loud and noisy, and small knock loomed at her door. She jumped out of her bed scarred she grabbed the knife hidden under her pillow she held it close to her chest as she walked to the door. “Who is it?” she spoke fiercely “It is Katakuri.” he spoke calmly knowing she had a knife on the other side of the door. “I am off duty Katakuri-sama master Henry does not want me entertain tonight.” she spoke in fear that he actually came back to sleep with her. “I spoke with Henry, he said it is alright if I came to visit you since I just paid him.” he stated. She sighed and open the door.

Katakuri sucked in his breath as he looked at her with no makeup, she was stunning and gorgeous even her pale skin was flawless like a porcelain doll her eyes a sharp blue he couldn’t miss now that she didn’t wear the eyeshadow. “I brought wine and some sweets for you.” he stated lifting up the basket in his overly large hands. She was hungry and had not had anything sweet since she had been sold here it was too expensive. She moved aside so he could come into her cramped room he looked extra big in the small room like she did, she was always hitting her head on the ceiling and banging her legs on the tables.

Furthermore, He sat in the chair as last time as he watched her peak through the basket there were donuts, cakes, candies, shortbreads, and brownies. She bit into one of the donuts and savored the flavor in her mouth; Katakuri watched in aww how she ate the donut he also enjoyed the donuts they were his favorite. She opens her eyes to see him starring at her, she stopped eating the donuts. “They are not poisoned Misako; I promise I would never taint such a delicate treat.” he stated. She couldn’t tell if he was talking about her or the donut. “Then why don’t you have a bite so I know it's not?” she asked handing one over to him. He shook his head no, “I don’t eat in front of people, I would have to kill you if you saw my true face.” he spoke so calmly she knew he wasn’t lying.

Moving on from the thought, she went back to eating the treats, “I heard you were a dancer?” he asked. She looked up at him with a frown. “Not one of those dancers I was a Geisha before this I danced Kabuki, it's not just dancing its acting and singing as well.” she smiled. “Where did you learn that?” he asked? “In my home land before I was sold to be a prostitute, I was studying to be one my parents spent everything they had to send me to lessons, but." she stopped talking as she held the cup of wine tight. “Before everything fell apart and I was sold.” she sighed. “Would you do it for me I would love to see it.” he questioned? She smiled it had been a while since anyone had asked her to dance. “Well, I guess so you did pay for my services.” she smiled and stood up. She unclipped her long black hair and went to grab her shamisen and began to strum it, she played and beat and recited her favorite poem of a prince and a poor street girl; they fall in love and before their wedding the girls far kill her because he says she should know better than to try to rise above her station.

Katakuri watched with delight her voice was soft and pure angelic as she told the story. “That was beautiful Misako.” he stood up to give her a standing ovation she bowed before him. “Thank you Katakuri-Sama" she blushed, in her head she had counted five mistakes she made but he stared in amazement. There was an awkward silence between the two of them. “Misako I was going to ask if it would be alright If I invited you to my ship for an actual meal? If you were ok with that?” He inquired; she could see his cheeks getting red from embarrassment. “I would love to go Katakuri-sama but Henry doesn’t let his girls leave the brothel.” she looked down ‘a little sunlight and fresh air would be nice’. She thought to herself. “Nor do I want you to keep spending your money to see me and not sleep with me sir, no offense but that also bothers me.” she smiled trying to ease the tension.

Katakuri sighed he knew she as uncomfortable with the fact that he had not tried to sleep with her he was wasting three thousand berries a night to enjoy conversation. “Do you find me repulsive katakuri-sama?” she asked, he shook his head no, “To be honest when you wore your make up I thought you were older that what I see now, your quite a beauty without it, I am not the type of man to buy his woman, if I want you I want you to want me, I have thirty six sisters in total and if any man touched them or treated them in a way that they didn’t approve of I would kill him on sight.” he declared.

Misako was shocked at his statement, “thirty-six your father must have gotten around.” she gasped. “Contrary to belief my father only fathered my brothers and I we are triplets, my mother birthed 86 children in total.”Katakuri spoke calmly, as if having eighty-six siblings was the norm. “Ok Color me impressed so are you saying if I wanted to sleep with you right here right now you would oblige my indulgence?” she asked him, she sat seductively on the bed. Katakuri smiled at her under his scarf, he liked her flirty side but, he would not have her here not in this small shack of a room. Katakuri walked over to her and leaned down so that he was towering over her, he whispered in her ear, “my dear I would happily oblige your every whim and desire like how a woman should be treated.” she could smell his cologne it was strong and manly; he pressed his solid body against hers, she could feel him against her thick thighs. “But sadly, not here, there is not enough room” he stated pulling away from her. He took a deep breath trying to regain his composure. “I will talk to Henry let him know I am not kidnaping his best girl and pay him three times the normal amount. Just be ready tomorrow night I will be back to come get you.” he fixed himself before he walked to the door, “sleep well Misa-kun" he stated leaving.

She almost fainted from the term of endearment he used on her name, why was he so interested in her all of a sudden it wasn’t like men like him pirates to actually care about the whore they were sleeping with.

The next morning

True to his word Katakuri convinced Henry to allow her out of his brothel. “You better come back her Misako.” he commanded as he handed her some fresh clean clothes. “I will Henry, you branded me and have people following me to where I am going, I am sure he wouldn’t pay that much to keep me from you.” Misako stated undressing to put on the new clothes. Henry rolled his eyes and left the room. Shira a younger girl walked in she was tan skin with pale purple eyes her dark midnight blue hair was in a messy bun. She frequently came to Misako for advice, and someone to talk to. She was fifteen sold here because of her parent's large debts to the crown. “Miss Misa your leaving?” she asked. “Only for the day I will be returning tomorrow.” Misako sighed. “You aren’t going to wear make-up? ” Shira questioned “The person I am seeing prefers me without it actually.” Misako voiced; she left her hair out it fell to the middle of her back.

The kimono she wore was too short especially with her the long legs. But it was the best that she could afford to give Henry with the little bit of earnings she had. “Shira keeps an eye on my room, let me know if anyone comes snooping around in here while I am gone.” she requested of the young girl, she reached in the cleavage of her breast and grabbed some cash for the girl, “will do ma’am.” Shira snatched the cash.

Katakuri waited outside the brothel waiting for Misako to come out, he couldn’t find a reason why he was doing this with her she interested him her beauty was flawless, she couldn’t be more different from the women here, the others were sloppy not well kept, her on the other hand even in these drab conditions she remained classy and elegant and beautiful. She should not be here he thought she be longs free dancing and reciting her poetry in front of thousands of people or doing whatever she wanted. When he saw her walk outside, he was stunned by her beauty she wore a short blue kimono her black hair flowed effortlessly around her body. She wore light lipstick and a small amount of light blue eye shadow that brought out her eyes. Now outside the building he could see her height while she was a few inches shorter than him still she dominates over the other females walking by they stared at her afraid. While the men tried to gawk under her kimono. “Misa-Kun you look marvelous.” he complimented her. She blushed at his compliment, “Thank you Katakuri Sama.” “Let's get out of here.” he grabbed her hand and led her to his ship.

#one piece #katakuri #charlotte katakuri #katakuri fanfiction #fanfic #anime / manga #anime #onepeice #monkey d. luffy

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thebearroom · 3 years

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Introducing the mods of The Bear Room!

Here are all the admins for this podcast in development! Right now we're working on audio/video edit teams, art teams and commentary teams! So in the mean time, get to know us! We also have a discord! Please join here<3 https://discord.gg/pYyxkZtv

Hey hi hello there! My name is asshat and you’re watching disney channel - gets slapped- Sorry sorry, sometimes I’m just really weird as you just saw. But anyways, my name is Lilly or Mod Chiaki and I’ve been stuck in sekaiichi hatsukoi hell for 84 years (read: 2-3 years). I am a 16 years old (turning 17 in July) mess who fell in this rabbit hole. This show is the reason why I started writing fanfiction again. What do you want to know about me? Well, I’m a biromantic demisexual (who uses she/her pronouns!) I am a Domestica fan first, Yoshino Chiaki kin second and human being third. Even though I’ve been in the fandom for a short amount of time, I am absolutely loving all of the beautifully talented people here. I’m here to entertain, screech about how much I love Domestica and just to have a good time with some amazing people. If you want, follow my tumblr @yoshiunova 💜 - Mod Chiaki

Heyo! My name is Cammie! I'm a 21 year old disaster bi (and single hehe so if clumsy bookworms are your type hmu) and I'm just happy to be here, honestly. Mod Ritsu, at your service 🌻 I'm Ritsu in human, female form, which is proven by my inability to understand romance, as well as my love for books, coffee, and Masamune Takano. I'm 95% Ritsu kin, 5%, Takano kin, and 100% A Mess™. I'm just here to have a good time and scream about Nostalgia, as I unfortunately love them and they are everything to me. I'm really looking forward to this! You can find me @literally-ritsu! - Mod Ritsu

Hi, my name is Isaac/Puppy and I’m an 18 year old enby trans guy with a lot of feelings. I love Junjou and Sekaiichi very much and I would do anything to show my love for the series. I also made and own the discord server! Please enjoy our hard work, love yourselves, go take your meds and read junjou romantica nonstop. Self care, amiright! Woof! :3 My Tumblr is @nutton-of-tata - Mod Puppy

hey ya’ll its me mod groovy smoothie. I’m just an 18 y/o pan trans guy who unfortunately discovered junjou romantica and now i'm stuck in nakamura’s hell hole. Don’t make the same mistake i did. Dont look behind you. Run. - Mod Groovy Smoothie

Hi, I’m Vera aka You, Me, and Teddy Bears. I’m your local poly, pansexual housewife. My entire life revolves around Junjou Romantica. I am the queen of over analyzing this series, the creator of The JRSIH Timeline Project and I would do anything for Usami Akihiko - Mod Vera - Mod Suzuki

hi im tie and oversharing is my passion. i'm revisiting my middle school hyperfixation and my last braincell went apeshit. anyways, usami akihiko has a fat ass and so do i, muah - Mod Tie

Hey hey heyyy its ya boi uhhhh mabry aka megalodony. I’m basically your 21 year old pocket john mulaney. If there's two things I enjoy in life its Junjou Romantica and Discourse so here I am!!! Ps. I love love love my dog sammie :))) - Mod Mabry

Hello hello, you can call me Ryan or Mod Misaki, either is fine. C: I have been a fan of the SIHJR series for around five years now and I look forward to having discussions about the series and its characters! Some info about me: I’m a trans guy, almost 18, love playing games, and am an artist. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do!! <33 - Mod Misaki

Ayo, Gem here coming at you live. Major Romantica simp and Misaki’s honorary mother. I’m the newest addition to the mod group, but I will do my best to try and make an entertaining addition to this wonderful group of people and surely, you will care about these aries as much as we do. I guess it gives a little snippet on me as a human being. I’m 18,lgbt, and poc. I speak english and want to learn spanish and japanese, and I adore being a welcoming person to new people so please don't hesitate to come to me for all your troubles. I've been in these fandoms since 2015, I want to create more content for it, and I go by Mod Gem or Mod Big Sis! *kisses* - Mod Gem

#the bear room #podcast #meet the admin

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

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Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.5k

Warnings: Smut, swearing

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 6 Part 8

Part 7

Liam's phone rang. He ignored it and let it go to voicemail. When it rang again, he made a noise of disgust and took his phone out of his pocket to look at it. "It's my publicist. I had better take this."

Liam answered the phone and went outside to talk. I turned the oven on and started to unpack the groceries. Then I got the roast, put it in a baking tray, poured olive oil over the top and seasoned it with salt and some pepper. I got out some onions and garlic and started to cut them up to place around the roast to give it some added flavour.

"That looks great," Liam said when he came back in.

"Thanks," I said, and I gave him a grin. I took the tray and put it in the oven. I got my phone and put an alarm on, giving myself time to cook the veggies before they finished. A thought came to me, and before I could bite my tongue, I said, "They do say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

"Really?" Liam licked his lips, looked down at his pants and said, "I'd say they were aiming too high."

It took me a minute to work out what the joke was. When I finally did, I couldn't help but laugh and hide my face in my hands.

"You've gone so red!" Liam appeared to be having fun with my inability to control my blushes.

"Oh, my God!" I said, still hiding my face and laughing. "Alright, that was funny."

It took me a while to stop laughing. When I did, Liam said sombrely, "Sweetheart, I have to tell you something."

"Uh, oh, it doesn't sound good."

"It's not bad. I don't know how you will feel about it." Liam then told me that his publicist had called to let him know there were pictures put on Instagram and Twitter of the two of us kissing at the pub last night. "Your name hasn't been mentioned, and the photos look to be shot from pretty far away on a mobile, so someone in the pub took the pictures. Sarah says they probably aren't going to tell who you are by the pictures unless someone who knows you well comes forward."

I think if my eyes bulged out of my head any further, they would have fallen out and rolled on the floor. "That quick?" It was all I could think to say.

"Yeah. It's hard to know what will come out and when. A lot of times I go out, and no one notices me, but other times I have paps or members of the public following me for hours."

"Who's Sarah?"

"My publicist." Liam reached across the bench and took my hand in his. "Are you ok?"

"You say they don't know who I am?" Liam nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn't happy but what was I going to do about it? I picked at my nails. I needed to paint them; the pale pink polish was starting to chip.

"You ok?" Liam asked again

I shrugged. "Your life is weird."

Liam chucked. "You keep telling me that."

"So, what happens now?"

"Well, usually Sarah would say to private all social media, but she had a look and said she could only find a Facebook profile for you which was already private. Do you have any others? Instagram? Twitter? Snapchat?"

"No. I have a YouTube account that I use to watch videos, but that isn't linked to my real name or email. Also, a Tumblr account, again not associated with my name. And no pictures of me."

"Tumblr?" He raised an eyebrow. His fucking lip twitched.

"I was a confused 22-year-old ok?" I said a bit defensively. "I haven't used it in years," I remembered then the dating site we met on. I quickly logged on and selected the options to hide the account.

"Ok, well, there's not much else right now. A few rags called Sarah for comment. She said the standard no comment and asked for my privacy to be respected. The rest is up to you."

"Up to me?" I asked, confused. "What's up to me?"

"When you want to confirm the relationship and release your name."

"Liam, I met you less than 24 hours ago and have known you only a few months. I'm not ready for that. I like you a lot, but maybe you pick your nose and eat it, and I'll have to dump your arse tomorrow and then it's been a big song and dance over nothing." I joked. The mood had gotten too heavy for me. I wanted to talk about something else.

"Sweetheart, I'd never do that." He smiled sweetly, "I'd make you eat it."

"Ewww!" I screamed.

"Get over here." He chased me around the bench, and after a few evasions and some more squeals, he caught me. Perrin came in through the doggy door and barked at Liam a few times. Our behaviour obviously scandalised him. "Perrin," I called. "Come here, boy."

"You think your dog can save you?"

"Of course, he's very protective of my honour."

"We will see about that." Liam bent over, and I thought he was going to tackle me. Instead of flying backwards, I was hoisted forward and found myself over his shoulder. I screamed as I heard a loud crack, my hands flying to my bum.

"Did you just smack my arse?" I must admit I was finding all the manhandling arousing. I wasn't going to let him know that, though.

"Yes, I did. Want another?" Liam was heading down the hallway, taking me to the bedroom.

I giggled. "No!"

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Liam quoted. Shakespeare sounded good with his accent. I giggled some more, and I got another one. Yes, very arousing.

Liam hummed. "I quite like the view here." He rubbed my bottom and took me into my bedroom.

I was very close to his round bum. "This view is not so bad either," I said and smacked his arse. Unfortunately, it probably hurt me more than it hurt him. His butt was tight!

Liam dropped me onto the bed at that point, and the look on his face was hysterical. I couldn't stop laughing, and tears were rolling down my face. Then I did the most embarrassing thing: I snorted.

That was it. Both of us couldn't stop. Every time I calmed enough to think I could speak, one look at Liam's face, and I'd be off again.

Eventually, we stopped, and I was able to say, "Oh my God, your face! That was so bloody funny." I wiped my eyes.

"I think that may have been the first time someone's done that to me."

"Really? Didn't you go to an all-boys school?"

"Yes, but it wasn't the US." Liam tried suppressing a grin as he said, "we got ball taps."

I tried not to laugh. I really did. "Oh, my God!" I was off again.

We watched the original Mad Max before I had to go and finish dinner. I was horrified when Liam said he hadn't seen it before. I immediately made him watch it. He said it was ok, the concept was great, but he didn't love it. I told him he needed a brain scan.

When I went to make dinner, Liam offered to help, but I told him not to be silly.

Liam sat at the kitchen bench chatting to me while I chopped and blanched the vegetables. After a while, he said he had to call Sarah and his assistant Ryan to make sure he had organised the dog walker to take Cole for a walk and play.

"Any update from Sarah?" I asked Liam when he returned. I feigned disinterest while I finished slicing the roast.

"All the same right now. Some sites have posted the pictures, saying I was spotted drinking with an "unknown female companion." The pictures have circulated a bit on Twitter, but it's mostly just by fans. They haven't hit the mainstream yet. It's all fairly standard, and it will go away by tomorrow by the looks of it."

"Good," I said. A look I couldn't interpret passed over Liam's face. He masked it pretty quickly. I opened my mouth to ask if he was ok but shut it again. I said, instead, "dinner's ready." I passed Liam his plate.

"Thank you," Liam said, leaning over to kiss me before eating. I watched as he cut up some beef and started chewing. "Pretty good. Almost as good as Mum's," he teased with a wink.

I elbowed him, and God bless him; he pretended it hurt.

We ate in silence for a while. I gave a few pieces to Perrin. He was so old, and I couldn't help but spoil him occasionally. He won't be around forever.

After dinner, Liam insisted on helping me clean up, and we stacked the dishwasher. Watching him bend over, his jeans straining as he put the plates in, stirred some feelings. Erotic feelings.

"Want to watch another movie?" He asked.

"Not really," I said. "I'm in the mood for some dessert."

"Ice-cream? I can't have any, but you can."

"Not ice-cream," I said, shaking my head. I looked at him with my very best bedroom eyes.

"What do you want then? Want me to go to the shops?" He said, not catching on. I put my arms around his waist. "If you let me borrow your car, I'll go. I can just go on my own."

"No, you wombat." I met his hips with mine, his eyes widened. "What I want is right here." I wriggled against him. Liam grinned widely, his cheeks creasing in such a sexy way.

"I thought you were shy."

"I am getting used to you," I said. "The real me is coming out." The truth of my words took me by surprise. I looked away, second-guessing myself. Why did I do that?

"I like her," Liam said hoarsely. If he hadn't spoken then, I think I would have stopped. But when his hands went into my hair, and he pulled, stretching my throat, I knew I wasn't going to stop. He kissed me there, and his teeth grazed my skin. My fingers reached under his shirt, and they gripped his back. My nails dug into his skin.

"Bedroom?" I whispered.

"Bedroom," he agreed and walked me backwards to my room.

"You promised me something earlier today," Liam said in between kisses. We were close to my bed.

"What's that?"

He stopped kissing me and cupped my face with his hands. "You said I could undress you."

Liam took hold of my t-shirt and waited. I nodded. He slowly lifted my shirt up and over my head before dropping it to the ground. He tilted his head as if contemplating and gently turned me around.

I felt Liam gather my hair and put it over my shoulder. He caressed my back with his fingertips, making me shiver with pleasure. I heard him give a satisfied hum before undoing my bra. He turned me around again and took hold of my bra straps, pulling them down my arms.

When I dropped my bra beside my shirt, Liam took a step back. He looked me up and down, his eyes hungry. I wanted to cover myself under his intense gaze, my earlier courage wavering under his scrutiny.

My arms started to move, and he gave me a stern look. "You're not thinking of hiding now, are you?"

I shook my head and forced my arms back by my sides. "Good, because I want to look. You're quite the sight." As if to emphasise his point, he adjusted himself through his pants. I felt a thrill of excitement flow through me and felt the familiar throbbing between my legs.

Liam got down on his knees and kissed my belly. His rough stubble tickled. "Your skin is so soft," he said in a low voice. He undid my jeans and kissed a trail down as he unzipped me. His breath was warm, and I felt it through the cotton of my briefs, his last kiss placed just above my slit.

It was almost agony. I moaned at his teasing breath and lips. Then Liam pulled down my underwear and kissed my mound. I felt his tongue part my lips, and when he found what he was looking for, he flattened his tongue and moaned into me.

I didn't know what to do. For a moment, I wanted to stop Liam, but it felt too good. I could feel my resolve waning. I didn't want to wait. Why should we wait? What was I waiting for? I had to stop thinking and go with it, enjoy him, enjoy the experience. I put my fingers in his hair as he licked and sucked at me. He seemed to remember what I liked, and soon I was close to my peak.

One of his fingers played at my entrance. I silently begged for Liam to put it in. My core was desperate to be filled. His finger slowly entered me, and I was lost. I needed him. At that moment, all I wanted was to feel more of him inside me, have him fill me.

I felt like this was the moment. If I don't ask Liam now, I probably never would. If I didn't want him now, why am I even allowing this to happen? I wanted him. He excited me like no one had done since Andy. He had knocked down the defences I'd built to keep myself alone. Keep me in my grief and guilt. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I wanted to feel desired again.

"Fuck me?" I asked. The words just tumbled out. I knew at that moment I would beg if I had to. "Please, Liam, I want you to fuck me."

I wasn't sure if Liam heard me. He increased his attention, and I felt the pressure building. His hand gripped my arse, his fingers digging into my cheeks as he pulled me closer to him. The short rough hair on his cheeks and chin tickled against my thighs. My legs buckled. I couldn't stand up anymore. He held me there while I panted and moaned, seeking release.

I felt my climax arrive like a bolt of lightning. It was sudden and intense. My body contracted as waves of pleasure exploded over me. Short, wordless shouts came from my mouth until it was over. I collapsed onto the bed.

I laid there a while, eyes closed, trying to catch my breath. Liam was shuffling around and heard his belt come undone. I felt the bed dip, and I opened my eyes to find Liam naked, climbing up the bed until his face was above mine.

Liam supported some of his weight with one hand and laid on me, our whole bodies skin to skin. He was warm to touch, and he almost felt hot to my now cooled skin.

"Ask me again," Liam said.

Part 8

#original story #original fiction #romantic story

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fics-of-my-mind · 4 years

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Trust - Chapter XII.

Just like at our last encounter, I recognized his unique scent before I even saw him. I imagine it didn't take him long to find me, not even with my face in the cover of my palms. When I did look at him, Nick was standing in front of me, hiding us from the prying eyes.

He was wearing a black suit with an also black plain T-shirt and he looked extremely hot. His hair was styled in its usual way, his stubble made him even hotter. Nick's posture was composed, but at the same time commanding. He stood with his hands in his pockets, giving me the illusion that this was just going to be a friendly, 'no-worries' chit-chat.

For a long minute, he didn't say anything and neither did I. His eyes didn't move from me as I was inhaling the cigarette smoke. He waited until the last drag, until I put it out, and tried finding something else to calm my recurring nerves now that Nick was standing in front of me, so close.

'Go, gather your stuff and say goodbye to your friends,' he said after, his voice quiet, but his tone nowhere near asking or suggesting. He didn't give me the chance of resisting – and maybe I didn't even want to have it. 'I'll wait for you by the back entrance.'

There was this sudden urge in me. To tell Nick to go, fuck himself, or just to simply walk away from him. He couldn't order me, he had no right. This wasn't just one of our fantasies, where he could just control me, hell, this was real life. And after these past few months he just couldn't expect me, jumping at his every order.

Except I wanted to. So badly, that I even scared myself a little. I wanted to go with him, I wanted him to order me around, to control me. Clearly, this was the submissive part of me, the one that only showed up when I was around Nick.

As much as I hated it, as much as the educated, stubborn individual in me wanted to say no, one more glance at his hard eyes convinced me that there was just no point. This needed to happen at some point.

So, I just nodded, going back to the crew and gathering my leather jacket.

Warnings: mature content, BDSM content Pairing: Nick Jonas / Other Female Character This fanfiction can also be found on Wattpad by fnntth

I don’t own Nick Jonas or any other recognizable characters. This fanfiction is completely fictional, its only purpose is entertainment.

Chapter XII. - Insane, inside the danger gets me high

Recommended song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yzVQkO92wNw

I was the one that walked away, so me being hurt that he didn't reach out had no base. I still was, though. I've expected Nick to call, text or something, yet it was three days later and not a single thing happened. I've found myself with my fingers hoovering over his name in my contact list more than one time, but decided against it. Part of me was proud, the other – saner – part knew that nothing changed between us just because I moved to LA. I didn't move here for him, I kept telling myself. I didn't let him know that I was here for a reason. I didn't need more drama. I couldn't take more heart break.

So, I tried forgetting that it happened. I ignored Erica's questions on why I suddenly felt the need to leave, concentrated on work and getting myself familiarized with my environment. Days later I could almost perfectly clear Nick Jonas from my mind once again. There was only a microscopic chance of ever running into him again, wasn't there? Two times it could happen, but three... I didn't believe in those things, at least not anymore.

We went out with my coworkers (mainly Erica) three more times in the next two weeks. Two of them were dinners in edgy and cool restaurants, the third one was to a club, much less known and popular than the one we went to that night. All three times were amazing, though I was looking around like a lunatic, afraid that I was going to run into Nick. I was a little bit paranoid to be honest.

Almost exactly three weeks later Erica brought up the topic of going back to the first club, the OAK. I even surprised myself by agreeing. Ever since the first encounter, I've gotten more and more used to the idea of the probability of running into Nick again, and as surprising and unexpected it was the first time, I've accepted that what had to happen would happen anyway.

Not saying that I wouldn't feel awkward, or if I'd be able to handle the situation perfectly, but getting to know these laidback people, the LA crew, they somehow made me worry less. It was a sharp contrast with my usual attitude to things, but I really tried to fit in and to let loose a little. Maybe I needed it.

When on Thursday night we were sitting by the bar with Erica and a few of her friends and our coworkers, I felt so balanced. It felt like I was making friends, that I wasn't so alone as I felt, that I could really fit into this crowd. It was great, finding like-minded people in a foreign city, away from home. They made me happier, calmer, and I was having more fun than I've ever expected.

Actually, I was in such a relaxed space of mind, that I didn't even flinch when, from the other side of the bar I found myself once again face to face with Nick. He was looking at me from an approximately 20 feet distance, leaning on his elbows, a drink between his hands. I felt the grin freeze to my face, but other than this, I think I handled the situation better than expected. I was surprised – finding it ridiculous that this was the third time we were just running into each other if we count Barcelona -, but not nearly as shocked as before. Now I had the chance to prepare for meeting him, and made my peace with it as much as it was possible.

This time I did no turn my glance away, neither did I start running from him. I just sat there in my seat, with my coworkers around me, still talking about something, oblivious to the fact that I wasn't listening. All my attention was on Nick and him only. I don't think I saw anyone else from the hundreds of people around us, just Nick. His face was completely expressionless, yet he did not look at anything else, only me. His eyes looked at me with a hard glance, which I stood for what seemed like long minutes.

I only looked away when Max, one of the only – gay – guys from the office handed me another drink, making me turn my eyes to him. I thanked it, then took the drink and my purse and announced that I was going to go out for a quick smoke. I needed it, even if I wasn't as stressed as last time when I was in the same room with Nick.

Not turning around to see if he was still at the other end of the bar, I walked to the back area of the club, one of the designated smoking places. It was still quite early – barely midnight – so there weren't many people outside. I choose a spot by the wall of the club, hidden by some big and beautiful cycad palms, trying to get a private moment, and just inhale the calming smoke. I've been smoking less since I was here, which was weird. I didn't found it too important, probably it was because of the 'healthy' living style of this city.

I closed my eyes, trying to quiet my screaming thoughts, my screaming desire to go and find Nick and ignore any principles I've had before. This connection we've had... It was something I've never experienced before. Never did I believe it when you read in novels or see in series that they couldn't stay away. Something like that just couldn't be real. You couldn't feel that for another person. Except I did.

So, I just nodded, going back to the crew and gathering my leather jacket – something I couldn't let go of, even if we were in LA and it was still hot. I said my goodbyes and even though I was faced with Erica's prying eyes, I just smiled at them, saying that I'll see them on Monday.

Nick, loyal to his promise, was waiting for me at the back entrance, clearly to avoid attracting the attention. He just silently acknowledged my reappearance and stepped out of the way, letting me exit first.

'Are you okay to drive?' I asked when he lead me to a black, expensive-looking car, my first words to him this evening. We were, after all in a club and I did see him with one drink in his hand.

'Wouldn't drive you otherwise,' he nodded, opening the passenger side door for me. You see, with Nick, little gestures like this, like opening a car door, or putting my safety first... They were to blame for me having these feelings.

We got in and after making sure I've fastened my seatbelt, Nick started driving. He looked good behind the wheel, but then again when didn't he look good. The car was posh, yet not something that people would notice right away. It wasn't too big, not like a Range Rover – the go to celebrity car – and even though I paid no attention to the branding, I was sure that it was something American, after all cars from home were the cars Nick liked.

Neither of was saying anything, only the low sound of the radio broke the complete silence in the car. It should've been tense and uncomfortable, yet I felt more comfortable than ever since our 'no worry' day in Stockholm. Being here, close to him again, running into each other against all odds... I just felt like I had to be in this car with him, like I was in my perfect place.

I'm not trying to state that I wasn't nervous about what was going to happen, because I was. But Nick's presence next to me made my anxiety almost completely go away. It's not like things could be worse between us than they are now... Really, I couldn't imagine anything worse than not speaking to him for months – and this was a thought that calmed my nerves instantly.

I desperately wanted to ask him where we were heading to, but didn't find it in me to break the silence. I trusted him anyway, more than I'd like to admit. I was sure that he had a concrete idea in mind, and I felt perfectly comfortable with trusting myself to him. He made me feel safe, safer than I felt since I moved here.

Nick wasn't looking at me at all, so I tried focusing on the road too, not wanting to stare too much. It was extremely hard though, I wanted to watch him drive, hold onto the steering wheel and occasionally turn the volume of the radio up or down. I wanted to reach out, hold his hand.

We drove for about half an hour, through neighborhoods that I didn't recognize (no surprise there) and ended up at one of the spots on the outskirts of the city, where you have that amazing view to all of the lights. Like the place where they were dancing in the beginning of La La Land. The true LA spot.

I was surprised and quite honestly in awe of the amazing view. I could feel Nick's glance on my face as he turned off the engine, but I was way too preoccupied with the city before me. That was probably the first time that I felt some kind of love for Los Angeles.

He didn't get out of the car, just unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned back in his seat.

'What are you doing here, Milla?' he asked after a few minutes of letting me admiring the night lights.

'I was fired,' I started, not looking at him, but still out on the windshield. 'then I was relocated. So now, I guess, I live here.'

I made sure that my voice had barely any emotions in it, not wanting to get all emotional with him again. As much as I trusted him, the proud part of me didn't want to let him see, how much the whole thing has affected me. I'm pretty sure he knew anyway, after all he did know me better more than pretty much everyone else.

'Since when?' he asked, his voice not telling me anything.

'For a little over a month now,' I shrugged, not even blinking.

'Seriously? A month?' I could hear the annoyance in his tone. 'Look at me when I'm talking to you, Kamilla,' Nick said, which made me turn my head towards him without even thinking. He used my full first name, which was the first reason. The fact that his tone was authoritative and full of repressed anger was the second.

'Yeah, what's the big deal about it?' I asked, even though I knew exactly what his problem was. My words didn't exactly make Nick happier, instead he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. His beautiful dark brown orbs were glistering with many emotions, anger for one.

'The big deal?' he asked, frowning. 'Did it ever occur to you to tell me?! To not let me find out by making me think that I'm hallucinating you in some club?! Is that really too much to ask, hm?'

Nick was angry. He was actually mad at me. I've never seen him like this before, his eyes even darker than usually, his face prim, and his tone cold. I felt like a kid at his scolding, someone that was instantly regretting her actions, whereas I knew for sure that I did the right thing by not contacting him.

'What difference does it make?' I asked, raising my eyebrows, my tone annoyed with his reaction, with him thinking that he had a right to tell me off. 'It's not like me living here changes anything.'

It didn't. Our situation was still the same.

Sure, we were now in the same time zone, but this has always been just one of the obstacles between us. I had no idea why Nick was this upset, what he saw in this thing that I didn't, why this was such a big deal for him.

Nick looked at me silently for a second, his face still full of passion. My mind was working in a strange way, but in that moment, I wanted to close the distance between us and kiss him.

'It changes everything, don't you get it?' he exclaimed, his handsome face losing the control he so preciously treasured and letting all the emotions run freely. 'Fuck,' Nick mumbled, and without another word to me opened the door of the fancy car and got out, shutting it behind him with a bang.

I was shocked. Probably because I've never seen him be this upset, or because I didn't understand where most of his anger was coming from, but I felt really confused. Nick started pacing in front of the wooden fence, keeping us from falling down hill-side. I gave him a few minutes, using the time to regain my composure after his sudden outburst.

When I followed him and got out of the car, closing the door behind me much softer, he turned towards me for a moment, then stopped in his place, in front of a wooden table and bench, leaning to the table. This time he was the one not looking at me.

'Nick–' I started, but he cut into my words immediately.

'After I saw you in the club,' he started much calmer than a few minutes ago. I walked around the car, stepping closer to him, but keeping a good two feet distance. I wanted to be closer, to hold his hand, to kiss him, yet I had to control myself. One of us at least had to hold on to the control. 'I went home to Priyanka and... I couldn't do it,' he said, slowly shaking his head.

Not like I expected him to suddenly break off his marriage. That wasn't the reason I moved here and honestly I was shocked that he'd even think so.

'It's okay, I—' was cut off again.

'I told her that I couldn't call myself her husband in good conscience when I was having feelings for another woman.' This was the moment he raised his brutally honest glance to meet mine. I froze. He. What. I... I parted my lips, then closed them again, not finding my voice. 'She left the next morning. She's been in India ever since. We're separated.'

Nick told this with objectivity, clearly making sure that no emotions were audible in his voice. I could see that he was waiting for a reaction from me, but I wasn't sure that once I found my voice I'm going to be able to respond the way he expected me to.

He left his wife. He did it. He left his wife, Priyanka Chopra for me, without talking to me at all. True, I was the one that ran away three weeks ago, but still. My brain froze, trying to process this information.

I was so... startled. I felt the sea of emotions, anger, relief, guilt, nausea happiness, love. This wasn't something I would've expected, not in a million years. And as in awe as I was, part of me was also annoyed with him for this.

'What do you expect me to say?' I asked eventually, still keeping my distance from him and crossing my arms in front of my chest. Nick raised his eyebrows at me.

'Well, a little more than this, to be honest,' he said quite coldly, making me even more furious. 'I did, after all, just leave my wife...'

'I've never asked you to!' I exclaimed. 'You knew it, you knew that I never wanted to be the woman you leave your wife for! I never wanted to break your marriage!' I was shouting at him and I felt gratitude that he brought us to a place where there were no people other than us.

How could he do this? I couldn't understand, I just couldn't. He spent months lying to his wife, then another few months trying to fix their marriage that she didn't even know was broken. And after just seeing me at some club, he suddenly decides he just can't take it? What was this? What was going on in his mind?

'I didn't leave her for you!' he screamed back. 'I left her to be able to look into the mirror. I finally did the fucking right thing and this is what you are angry with me for?!' I looked at him with parted lips. Was he really, doing the right thing? Was this how things should've happened from the first night? 'This is just about you being scared again,' he added in a much quieter tone.

'I'm not scared!'

'Really?' Nick raised his eyebrows. 'Not calling me to tell me you moved here, running away when you see me at the club, being angry when the last thing keeping us from having a chance gets out of the picture... It seems to me, Dear, that you are, in fact, terrified of this turning into something real.'

I was. I was terrified of this. Never being in love, only experiencing heartbreak and never unconditional love in my life... Having almost zero experience... These things didn't exactly make me confident about starting anything with anyone, especially with Nick. And him, the person that knew about my history, about my doubts and fears being the one to throw it at me, felt like he just betrayed my trust a little.

'Fuck you, Nick,' was all I could say, then I turned around and starting to walk back to the passenger side.

I only got a few steps away when I was yanked back by my arm with such force that I collided into Nick's muscular chest. There was a moment of pause, my hands on his chest, one of his still on my arm, while the other around my waist, us looking deeply into each other's eyes.

I knew what was next and as much as I wanted to walk away from him, as furious I currently was with him, I couldn't stop it. After all these months, after imagining this moment for thousands of times, I wanted this. I longed for this, I needed this. And, after not finding real resistance in my eyes, Nick was the one closing the distance between us.

The moment his lips touched mine, every last bit of my anger towards him was gone. He pulled me closer by the waist, running his other hand from my upper arm into my hair, trying to make sure there was absolutely no distance between us. First it was just out lips that touched, savoring each other. Nick tasted like sweet, like peppermint, bubble gum and whiskey. God, I never wanted to let him go.

When Nick's tongue asked for permission, I instantly granted it. The moment our tongues touched, I couldn't hold back a deep moan, running one of my hands to the back of his hair, which earned a groan from him, while gripping onto his T-shirt's material with my other hand.

It was extremely hot, sloppy, yet such a turn on that I was sure my panties were already ruined. It didn't stop me from grinding up against Nick, especially after he spread my legs with one of his thighs between mines. When one of his hands slipped down to my bum, pushing me even harder onto his thigh, creating friction – yay black mini dress – I couldn't help but gasp. I felt Nick's excitement by my abdomen and as hot and steamy as this was, and as much as I wanted him, this wasn't the place or the time.

This kiss was everything I was waiting for the past months, ever since I met Nick – well, probably even before that - and I never wanted to let him go. When neither of us could catch any more air, we slightly parted, our foreheads leaning onto each other. I was still tangled in him, his leg not moving from between mines, his hands resting on my waist, while my hands laced behind his neck. Even our lips were still lightly touching as we both grasped for air.

'I don't want you to be scared,' Nick mumbled softly on my lips with so much affection in his eyes that I could almost feel myself blush. 'Not with me.' I was still at a loss for words, so I just nodded. As scared as I was of this, Nick was the person I trusted the most on this word. 'Let's get you home.'

The ride to my apartment was similar to the one here, except the moment we sat inside the car, Nick reached out and laced our fingers. I couldn't hide the stupid smile from my face and he looked much more relaxed too.

Not like anything was resolved between us. Not like we got anywhere. But quite honestly, I didn't care. The boy I've been in love with for way too long has just told me that he was technically single, and that he had feelings for me. He just kissed me. And I wanted to enjoy this moment. I had time to worry tomorrow.

'I'll walk you to the door,' he announced the moment the car stopped in front of my apartment building and got out right away, walking around the car and opening the door for me.

'I want to invite you in so badly,' I said, when we reached my door. It was true, I wanted him to come inside and never leave. 'But...'

'You need to think,' Nick nodded, immediately understanding. 'It's okay, Dear,' he said with a soft smile on his face, still holding my hand. 'How about I come over tomorrow afternoon?'

'Okay,' I nodded, smiling up at him, deep into his beautiful eyes. I had so many things I wanted to say to him, to do to him. 'Nick, I...'

'Shh,' he shushed me, as if recognizing that my head was all around the place. Nick stepped forward, closing the distance between us and kissing me on the forehead delicately. 'We'll talk tomorrow, okay?' I just nodded, the urge to kiss him flaming up once again. I stepped even closer, minimizing the distance between us, and standing on my tiptoes – in my heels – so I could reach his lips. Nick didn't pull away.

This kiss was much more innocent than the one before, our lips barely touching, yet it felt so intimate. Nick's hands were on my waist, while mines rested on his upper arm and neck. It didn't last for long, yet it was the perfect ending to this night. Nick gently pushed me away before it could get any more heated.

'I need to leave, or you won't be able to stop me from fucking you right now,' he mumbled onto my lips, sending heat through my body with his words. Would that be such a bad thing? I wanted him, he clearly wanted me. There was no Priyanka to stop us.

'Who says I want to stop you?' I asked with a playful smile on my face, raising my eyebrows. Nick stepped back a little.

'The first time I'm inside you after all this time,' he started, never moving his glance from mine. I could feel the blush creeping onto my face. 'I don't want it to be in the heat of the moment. I want it to be just like you and I both imagined it.'

'And how would that be?' I licked my lips, which made his gaze instantly lower, following my actions.

'Passionate, raw, earth shattering,' he chuckled. Nick raised his hand, running a finger on my chin, not letting me move my glance from his eyes. 'When we're having sex, I don't want your mind racing. I don't want you worrying, or thinking about the outside world. I want to be the only thing on your mind. And if we let it happen now, that wouldn't be true. Your thoughts are all over the place, and as much as I'd like to spank them out of you, not the first time I have you.'

'So, you'll come over tomorrow?' I asked again, biting my bottom lip, blushing at his raw honesty.

'I'll bring you dinner,' Nick nodded, and with a last kiss on my temple, he turned around, leaving me by my door.

I couldn't help but raise my hand, touching my lips, where moments ago Nick's were. I felt so incredibly happy.

#nick jonas fanfiction #nick jonas imagine #nick jonas fic #nick x reader #Nick Jonas #jonas brothers fanfiction #jonas brothers imagine #fanfiction

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iam-kenough · 4 years

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Will you ever notice me? (Arthur Morgan x Orgininal Female Character)

Summary: During they wandering in deep snowstorm, man from van der Linde gang found odd looking girl and Dutch decides to take her to camp to see if she can be any use, leading life of outlaw with them. Quickly, new girl develops feelings towards Arthur, but he sees her just as a kid…and she won’t take that! It’s an original character story that starts in the place where Arthur, Dutch and Micah were supposed to first meet with Sadie. Instead she’s already with them.

Authors notes: It’s another chapter and you can find the rest of them following masterlist on my blog if you want to read more of my fanfiction. Hope you gonna enjoy it! Word count: 2576 Chapter 10 Fire was finding away and Iris looked at it passively. She just lost everything she thought she had and even more, counting in baby that no one knew about. It was somehow strange, like Iris was watching a movie with her and Arthur in starring roles. People wanted love made for movie screens or books, but... All she wanted was just someone's warmth. Arthur seemed to have it but Iris had to face the fact that it wasn't meant for her. He had Mary. Girl bit on her lip, thinking about the woman. She was gorgeous, she was grace and the way Arthur looked at her - Iris couldn't help but to shrink. It was understandable he chosed a woman he knew instead of sticking to a girl who was all new to these things. What did she had to offer? She couldn't even kiss properly or fight for him, her flirt reminded more awkward calling for help rather than something hot. - Ah, I can't enjoy my evening seeing thing like you there - Micah sat down by the fire and spitted. Iris shivered with disgust. - I'm leaving, you are right. I know I look like shit. - What happened - he asked suddenly. Maybe it was the booze but he wasn't feeling like fighting. He had soft spot for woman in need, surprisingly. - Nothing you would care about, I think. We're not friends. - I am wasted so we can be, I'm gonna forget by the morning anyway so use it wisely, spill the beans. Iris wasn't sure, she was afraid but she didn't have someone at this moment. Mary-Beth was angry with her for chasing Arthur over and over and forgetting about her when it was good. And she had every right to be mad, Iris knew she's terrible friend. - Let's say...I have a lot on my plate, okay? - Go on, probably it's nothing I haven't heard about, dumbass. - I got shot and lost the baby. - Holy shit - he rised his head - Morgan would be a father? - Yes - Iris curled up, her knees under her chin. She was small but now one could tell she was suddenly shrinking - He won't know anyway. He's after Mary now. - Weren't you stupid flattering yourself enough to believe he would look at you - Micah snorted and then came the rest of the sentence - he's too old to stick to babygirl in attractive package, can't blame him for that. - That's what I was thinking. Maybe with a little bit of hope it's my low self-esteem talking but there you are. - I ain't friend of yours and that's good. Won't sugarcoat. Morgan is weird, as I noticed. He doesn't seem to care for anything if it was love related beside that Mary girl, he was talking about her a lot and then stopped, leaving gooey self behind and turning into cold motherfucker again. But on the other hand - Micah took a sip from his bottle - Even you can do better, you are step ahead of him being younger and less sentimental. - I hoped...I thought he's different at first. But I think you're right, eh? At least I'm young, gotta recover quicker - she shook her head - thanks for listening me anyway. - Wasn't listening, as I said I'm gonna forget everything by tomorrow. Don't flatter yerself, missy - he waved her off and looked away, his face empty and numb. -Another letter from that Mary girl - Mrs Grimshaw handed Arthur piece of paper. Iris was sitting near enough to hear, sipping on a cup of coffee - Thought you over that, she's funny business that woman. Arthur just quickly analysed the letter and put it inside his pocket. Iris was looking at him in descreet manner, concealing behind her hair. Man looked worried even though he just got letter from his lover. What is going on inside his head? - Mind if I join you? - Mary-Beth approached, half smiling. It's been a long time since their last girl talk. Iris was almost sure Mary-Beth just ditched her forever. Who would've listen her whines. - No, of course I don't mind - Iris immediately made space for her - What's up? - No, I am here to ask you what's up. Let's forget that you ditched on me to mingle with Mr Morgan and now you are happy to see me when he left you. I wanna know what's up despite that. - Listen, I can't - she looked around. Arthur was listening and even peeking at her thinking she didn't notice - Let's find ourselves a place. Mind if I poured myself somethin' stronger, eh? -No - Mary-Beth said with deadpan voice, squeezing her glass so hard her knuckles went white - it's simply not true, it can't be. - Don't pity me, please. I'm slowly adjusting myself to it. - How can you be like that when he simply left you for another with a child? - I was "another", Mary-Beth, thinking I can compare. I'm nothing he would need in his life, I know he's dreaming about children. He looks like the type of family man, especially when you notice how loyal he is towards everyone in the camp or how he's taking care of Jack. And I'm just a kid who's terrible in locating their feelings. - You can't just let him go, not now?! You basically lost part of you in sake of this wild romance! Now there's no turning back. - I gave up, Mary-Beth. We wouldn't work out anyway. Let's drink for me not falling like a fool again. It was first time in a while when they took a task together. Iris dressed herself in manly clothes, with coat, hat hiding her hair and gunbelt around her waist. There was a bounty, easy one for girl searched by law for robbery. What a wild times it is, forcing woman to things like that or to find themselves a man just to mean something. Alone they were considered as useless. Arthur decided that it's gonna be the best for them if he's gonna be formal. Harsh maybe. Girl was clearly over him but now he wouldn't wish to trigger any awkward situations. He was looking ahead, ignoring her presence. Iris grabbed her hip-flask from horse cargo. They were heading mountains and the cold was slowly getting to her. But there was remedy, whiskey. She gulped on golden liquid and blush caused by alcohol appeared almost straight away on her face. The closest to hug it could get for her. Whiskey was a good lover too, Iris discovered that it can lulle her to sleep just like lover would. Now she get why her daddy liked it alot. - Need ya sharp minded today, kid, so slow down a little - Arthur's voice was harsh and cold. It was just like the day they met, Iris reminded herself. First time they were a team, searching for John Marston. Back then he also was looking ahead, with this ugly smirk on his face, visible scar on chin with beard trimmed harshly, probably by dull razor. He was tall and beefy, large and surely intimidating. Now, when it was over Iris could look at him as a stranger, again, with clear head. She wasn't happy to discover he caused butterflies in her stomach, even bigger now, since she knew what was hiding under navy-blue coat. Iris looked away with shame. - Don't worry, just warming myself up, I'm freezing - she put on leather gloves and fixed her hat, hoping it will hug her ears a little bit more, since tips of earlobes were going numb. Arthur ignored it, but only on the outside. Inside him there was a war. He just stepped away from girls life, numbed himself a little so he won't notice her anymore. It wasn't that Mary was better now, after years. It was just smart choice, him being an old outlaw, he would hurt Iris even more staying with her and making her life miserable with his presence. That's why he tried not to give a shit, he was good at it. At the end of the day he was cold headed feller who would shot someone's head of if it was needed. Iris jumped off her horse, grabbing her pump-action shot gun and loading it with amo. When she was younger she didn't knew much about guns, but had to find out about them soon if she didn't want to starve. Her aim was shitty thought. She got better with time, observing Arthur, just like almost with everything, from skinning an animals to being as much intimidating as him when needed. At least girl tried her luck with it whenever she could, 'cause she was a woman, a girl after all. That's why she was bounty hunting with Arthur Morgan, no one dared to treat her like child in his presence. - After you - he said, putting out a cigarette with a shoe, bad habit of his. Iris pretended she haven't noticed, it wasn't her place to make comments. Not anymore at least, but now when she was thinking about it, it never were. They just had sex few times, to have fun, right? Iris expected that the cabin, where thiefgirl were supposed to be hiding could be a bait. She could notice them too, first and preparing a trap now. So without hesitation she kicked the door in, holding her weapon tightly. Even if the opponent was also a girl she wouldn't underestimate her. Iris remembered how Sadie was. But there was one one inside. She stepped forward and that was careless. Woman they were hunting jumped at her straight away, as she was hiding behind the door before they came. It was trap that even child would be aware off. But now Iris wouldn't take shit from anyone. Few moves and opponent was under her, trying to escape. Girl catched a rope from Arthur's hands and hogtied thief. - Get off me, bitch! - I ain't likin' the way you speak to me, babydoll - Iris growled and decided she doesn't have to be nice today. She grabbed woman's hair and knocked her out by smashing her face against he floor. Arthur whistled. - Where did ya learn to be cruel like this? - I have someone to learn from, ya know. Clean this up - she said, pointing at woman under her. Of course she was talking about him, he was the scariest man she knew when he wanted to be one. Iris and Arthur took woman to closest sheriff's office and collected their prize. It was nice amount of money. Iris started saving lately again. When she saw that being a couple with Arthur was just her wet, girlish dream she decided to save some money. Vision of moving away somewhere nice was really nice. - Thank ya, Mr Morgan. See ya around - she said and turned to walk away. Saloon was her new favourite direction, a glass of something stronger and all worries were easier to put aside. - I am heading the same direction, ya know. Don't bother yourself anyway. - Sure - she shrugged and entered the saloon, taking place at the bar. Arthur's taken sit right next to her and placed coins on bar surface. - Two rounds for me and the lady. Iris threw him suprised look. - You don't have to, I have money. Have it back - she said and give him few coins as a recompensate. His brows furrowed and he took them. - I don't get it, you always liked being treated - he said suddenly. -...yes. I still like it when someone important in my life does that - she said without hesitation. That was harsh but Iris didn't care. World is harsh too and so is Arthur Morgan's love. She was sitting next to him as he was getting visibly drunk. Time was passing as he wasn't looking like he's leaving, but it was already dark outsite. If she knew he's gonna pull that on her she would just go do another saloon in another town. - I'm getting back - she said, putting on her hat and gloves - Ya stayin or goin' with me, Mr Morgan? - Don't be silly, you drank nothin'. One more, on me. - Nope, I had enough and you had more than that. I am no one to scold you about it though, that's why I asked simple question. Are you going, or nah? He frowned, his eyes hazy, lips forming in thin line. - Okay, in this case I'm coming with ya. You gonna wonder around and get yourself hurt without me. Iris wasn't planning oto change Arthur's mind, it was easier to lure him outside in this case. She knew him long enough to know he wanted be helpful and he wanted be needed. But that was the end of brilliant plan, as soon as he got up she noticed that he's gonna fall from the horse right away. He ignored her arm and was going straight ahead bumping against everything and everybody. He forgot all his belonging so she collected them. For fucks sake, it was always like that in her life. - Where are ya going, cowboy? - her gaze went up from his head to his shoes. - To the camp, I have more booze there - he hiccuped and catched balance by holding against the wall. - Like hell, look at yourself. I'm gonna pack you inside the hotel room and you gonna catch up tomorrow. Dutch won't be mad if it's gonna be me telling him that. - Yer not going anywhere - he gestured widely, showing he's totally not okay with this plan - Yer gonna get yourself killed in the middle of the night! - I have guns and I'm perfectly fine on my own since you left me, Mister. His eyes opened slowly like he was stroked with what she said and looked up at her face. - Iris? - Arthur was totally surprised that she was standing in front of him, like he wasn't along her all evening. - What the fuck, did someone put some drugs to your drink? F'course it's me, I've been sitting her with you last few hours. - I love you, girl... - his gaze become hazy and his eyes were dreamy. Oh, he was drunk as hell, she could tell that. He barely stood by himself and all those hiccups assured girl that Arthur is gonna puke. - Oh, bite me. Come, you need to lie down as soon as possible - she grabbed his arm and with visible difficulty lead him towards hotel, hoping the owner won't flip out and let them in, seeing Arthur in this condition. Then he hiccuped once more and puked on her, starting with her coat and finishing on shoes. - Christ almighty, I could've predicted that. Sit there - she placed him on a bench and started wiping herself with visible disgust, breathing deeply. Now she was close to puking too. - I'm sorry - he burped. She passed him water canteen. - Grab yourself a water and get yourself together, Mister. - I want more booze...- he burped again - I need to drink... - Hell no! Look what've just done to me, you need water and some greasy breakfast in the morning. I will treat ya if you gonna come with me, hmmm? He did.

#arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x original character #arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan angst #arthur morgan romance #arthur morgan smutt #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2

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chris-evans-indian-fanfic · 4 years

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Across Seven Seas

Chapter 1

Description: This fanfiction series is set in the year 2022, after the horrid COVID-19 has finally come to an end. In this fanfiction, Chris Evans holidays with his family in India and meets Meera Shankar. The story explores their rollercoaster journey and raises a question, whether two people, from two contrasting backgrounds and cultures, can build their future together?

This series is Chris Evans x OFC with Chris Evans' family and friends having recurring appearances. Please find below a lot of Original Characters-

Meera Shankar - The female lead

Meera's Mother

Poppy - Meera's maternal grandmother

Rohan - Meera's elder brother who is 6 years older than her.

This is a work of fiction. The names of the hotels and companies have been changed to avoid copyright issues. Meera Shankar and her family is based on the author and her kin. No offense is intended.

Chapter 2

FIND MORE CHAPTERS BY CLICKING ON MY BIO

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

...

Chapter 1

5th September, 9pm - Boston, USA, Chris' childhood home:

Passport? Check.

Visa? Check.

Mobile charger? Check.

Airpods? Airbuds? What the fuck are they called? Pods? Buds? Whatever, check.

Dressed in a simple black Henley with blue denim, Chris checked the list for the upteenth time, making sure not to leave anything behind. It didn't help that his faithful canine was nuzzling at his knee, begging for attention. Somewhat satisfied with the list, Chris finally locked the suitcase, keeping it besides his carry-on duffle bag.

"Hey bud", he knelt down, gently petting the Mutt, "I will be back soon, you know that right? I have to leave... You know why... I'm sorry, you know I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to, right? I'm sorry, so sorry. I'm really sorr... Hahahaha get off me!!!!" Dodger had started licking his face, begging him to stay. Soon Chris was on the ground, with Dodger safely secured in his arms, dropping kisses on his furry head. Scott chose that moment to barge into Chris' room. "There you are! I have been calling you, whistling for you, yet no reply!! What do you have to say for yourself Dodger Evans?!" exclaimed Scott, hands on his hips, trying his best to mimick their strict mother. Dodger wriggled out of Chris' grip and put his front paws on Scott's hips. "Uh huh young man, your puppy eyes are not going to work on me this time. C'mon, Tara is here to take you."

With Chris closely following the pair, they headed towards the living room. "Do we really need to leave him here?", Chris asked again. "Chris we have been over this, it would not be advisable for Dodger to travel all the way to India. It can affect his health." "But why do we need to go to India in the first place? Can't we go somewhere closeby?" On hearing those words, Scott turned just enough to give Chris a knowing look. "We discussed this before, we need to go to India. YOU need to go to India." As they entered the living room, Chris muttered, defeated, "I really don't...."

6th September, 6am - Mumbai, India, Meera's House:

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Meera woke up with a jerk. Her eyes still adjusting to the darkness in her room. Fumbling for the phone, she set the alarm to snooze, hoping to get 10 more minutes of precious sleep. She could already hear activity in the house. Resting her head on the pillow, she almost fell back into a deep slumber when...

KNOCK KNOCK

"Meera! Get up! It is 6:30 already!" her mother shouted. Scowling at her door, Meera shouted back, "It is just around 6 Ma! No need to exaggerate! 5 more minutes!" KNOCK KNOCK "We will get late for the flight, hurry!" Sighing in resignation, Meera groggily woke up.

Heading downstairs for breakfast, she stumbled upon the luggage in the living room. Irritated, she scowled at her elder brother, "Rohan, I asked you to move the bags na? Why are they still in the way?" Looking up from his plate of buttery parathas (Indian bread), he flashed a wicked smile from the sofa, "Why should I move them? You move them if you want to." Rolling her eyes, Meera grabbed a small packet of cornflakes from the kitchen, shoving handfuls of the crunchy goodness in her mouth. Her mother looked at her with defeat, "Bala (meaning child in local language), at least use a bowl. I don't understand how can anyone eat raw cornflakes just like that." "I like them crunchy Ma. I cannot imagine eating cornflakes with milk or water. YUCK!" said Meera, shuddering. "Is that all you want to eat now? Won't you get acidity if you eat less?" her mother inquired. "No Ma, I am good. I hate waking up so early, and eating a heavy breakfast on top of that? Impossible. Not going to happen."

"Look at me, I already ate 3 stuffed parathas, Ma is making a fourth one now", her brother proudly exclaimed. "I don't think I have ever seen you not stuffing your face, fatty. Stop eating or you will not fit through the doors of the plane!" teased Meera. "I am not fat, I am plump 😄. Now pass me some green chutney." It was Meera's turn to wickedly smile now, "Why should I give it to you? If you want it, then get off that sofa and take it." "PLEEEEEEEEAASSEEE," begged Rohan. "Shut up! Absolutely not."

"Arey (often used as an exclamation in Hindi), give it to him, he needs it to eat with his parathas," softly chided Meera's grandmother as she entered the living room. "Only because Poppy asked me to," Meera said to her brother's smug face.

As family of four got comfortable on the sofa and the chairs to finish breakfast, Meera's mother suddenly exclaimed, "Meera! What are doing wasting your time?! Finish your breakfast and go and take a bath immediately! We will be late for the flight!" Trying to reason, Meera said, "Calm down Ma, our flight is at 12:30pm. It is 6:34am right now. It's alright. Even Rohan hasn't taken a bath yet." "I am not taking a bath," he said with his mouth full. The room was filled with disgusted "eww"s and "tsk"s at that announcement. "Bala you need to take a bath. How can you travel for such a long time without taking a bath?" said their Mother. "You are 35 years old! Do you still not know how to take a bath?" a disgusted Meera chimed in. "That is unhygienic," added Poppy. "I bathed 2 days ago, and we are going to Mussoorie, an icy cold hill station, so I am definitely not going to waste my time by taking a bath," proclaimed Rohan. Scrunching her nose, Meera said, "The whole plane will stink now." "You worry about your odor, I will wear my cologne. Now go take a bath or else we will get late," and with that, the smug smile was back on Rohan's face.

Same day, 9:45pm - Boston, USA, Chris' childhood home:

"Oh my God Chris if you repeat yourself one more time I swear to God I will throw something at your head!" shouted an irritated Tara, "I know how to take care of Dodger. This is not the first time you are leaving him with me. Just go on your vacation already!"

A myriad of emotions crossed Chris' face. Agitation, frustration, sadness, anger, helplessness to name a few. "It is not too late, we can still cancel the trip and go somewhere nearby. How about a shopping expedition to NYC? Or Disneyland? How about Disney World? We will even go to Harry Potter land if yo.." "First of all, it is called the Wizarding World and not Harry Potter land," Shanna interrupted Chris' protest, "Secondly," she continued from the couch, "Why are we still discussing this when there are only 7 hours left for our plane to leave?"

Chris' lips turned into a thin line. Shoulders slumped, hands in his jeans pockets, he tried his best to come up with an excuse. Anything at all to cancel this trip. He needed to stay here, at his home. He needed to think about what had happened. Where did it all go so wrong? How did he not see the signs? How could he have been so careless? As his mind started drowning into questions, his mother put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Remember when you went to India all those years ago? You were seeking peace and you found a way to deal with the chaos in your life. After A Starting Point...," she paused, "After everything that has happened in the last two years, maybe you need to find yourself again?" "But Ma I had gone to Rishikesh, a city well-known for yoga and meditation. We are going to Mussoorie! It is just a fancy hill station." "OH MY GOD! Not this again!!" shouted Carly from her room, "I told you the hotel has an amazing meditation and yoga course! You can do that for 3 weeks. Plus, the kids are excited about the indoor-pool and the gaming lounge AND we all love the view from the hotel! Do you know how many months it took me to arrange this entire vacation? DON'T. YOU. DARE. cancel this trip. Do you hear me?" Carly threatened Chris. Raising his hands in defeat, Chris set about arranging everyone's luggage near the door.

"Don't you pout now. I am sure this trip will change your life, FOREVAH!" said the ever-dramatic Tara. Smiling wistfully, Chris looked around his childhood home, already beginning to miss it. Chris knew that 3 weeks in a 5-star hotel in another part of the world would not change a single thing in his life.

If only he knew how wrong he was.

#chris evans #ChrisEvans #India #vacation #fanfiction #Chris Evans fanfiction #Boston #Chris Evans fanfic #Chris Evans x India #evansedit #Chris Evans vacation #chris evans family #chris evans x oc #chris evans x plus size reader #oc appreciation day 2020 #OCs Are People Too

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queencatherynerhys · 4 years

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Stuck With You - White Collar Story

Prologue

Summary: Neal Caffrey had met his fair share of interesting women over the years. Once or twice he thought he had known what love meant. But he learned what being in love was like when he met her. Now he must face a future without her. How will he survive?

A/N: I know I haven’t been non-existent in Tumblr world and TRR fandom. I’ve been working on this story for a while. I was looking through fanfiction stories and realized there's never really been a Neal/Female OC angst story that caught my eye. I just don't know why, so I decided to write one of my own.

The character's voices might be a little different than you've come to know if you’ve watched the amazing show. If not, I highly recommend it. White Collar is one to binge through these uncertain times we live in. I’ve rewatched it several times now.

I apologize for any errors. I feel like I didn't capture it very well. But please leave a like or better yet a comment if you like it and I will post the next chapter.

Disclaimer: Characters mostly belong to Jeff Eastin. OCs and the plot concept are mine.

Peter was in his car heading towards his home to have a quick lunch with his wife. He didn't normally do it since he's always so busy with a case, but he found himself with a rare opportunity of nothing to do for a couple of hours since he delegated all that needed to be taken care of to Neal, Diana, and Jones. He turned on the police scanner in his car. He didn't need to listen to it because he normally doesn't respond to the calls, but he uses it anyway to get an idea of which road to avoid in the case there was traffic accident. He didn't expect the call that came next.

The female voice informed nearby officers to respond on a gunshot female victim on the corner of 2nd Ave. and East 17th street. Peter crinkled his brow upon hearing the street corner. Why does that sound and seem familiar? He thought to himself. Isn't that where Stuyvesant Park is? Stuyvesant Park…that's where she's supposed to meet the buyer…it can't be…he thought as he connected the dots. He immediately turned on his siren. Better to be safe than sorry, right? What's the harm in making sure it's not her on the radio? He thought as he pushed on the accelerator to drive faster. He pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and called Neal and told him to meet him where on that street corner. He didn't give him a chance to ask what it was about before he hung up and concentrated on getting to his destination fast.

Flashing blue and red lights shone in the distance. Firefighters and EMT rushed about to attend to the emergency while policemen secured the area. Onlookers and bystanders paused from their daily routine to watch the commotion unfolding in front of them. Some of them were whispering to each other. Others had a look of misery and sadness as if knowing that the grim reaper had come to collect another soul.

Peter hurriedly arrived on the scene after being alerted in his radio about the gunshot victim. He flashed his badge to the policeman guarding the yellow tape. He stood aside and lifted the caution strip to let the special agent inside.

Peter's worse scenario was confirmed when he saw that it was her that was lying and bleeding on the ground. He watched with a worried face as the medical team encircled her. He saw as her eyes fluttered weakly towards him. She tried to lift her hand and beckon him.

"Ma'am try to relax, please," one of the EMT workers said.

"Peter," she ignored the advice and groans as she coughed up a bit of blood.

Peter knelt by her and held her reaching hand for comfort and support. He was not one to be squeamish around blood, but how was it possible to have so much around her? Was it his imagination? His guilt? It looked as if she was covered entirely in a pool of red. So bright and accusing that it was all he could see.

"Kell…it's Keller…" she warned. Peter's face fell and became red with anger as he heard what she said. He looked down and shook his head with disbelief as he pursed his lips The bastard was back in his city. He still hadn't forgotten what he did to Elizabeth, and now he'd come after one of their own again. But he couldn't worry about the dastardly criminal right now, his attention needed to be on the young woman in front of him fighting for her life. He saw her open her mouth to say something, but just groaned and coughed up more blood.

"Ryne, save your energy," he pleaded.

"One more thing…Tell Neal…I'm sorry…and that…that I love him…please, Peter…promise me…" she whispered before her fearful, begging eyes closed. He felt her grip weaken. Her breathing became more shallow. The medical team tried to hide their panic looks. They worked even faster to prep her for transport to the nearest hospital. Even though, she was unconscious Peter still felt the need to reply to her wish.

"I promise, Ryne, but you're going to be ok. You're going to be able to say those things to Neal, alright," he told her with feigned encouragement because he didn't know if she really would be able to. He didn't know if she heard him, but he hoped she did. Her wounds looked ghastly. He noticed that it looked like she suffered two gunshot wounds, one on the abdomen and the other on the chest.

The EMTs shooed Peter away so they could rush Ryne to the hospital. He went back and stood to the side trying to manage the shock and the gravity of the situation she was under. Ryne was able to tell him who shot her, but he was more worried about what Neal would do once he found out. Peter glanced at his hands and saw that her blood was smeared all over it. He realized that she was lying on the sidewalk slowly slipping because of him. It was his fault.

At the other side of the block, Neal rounded off the corner casually strolling where Peter told him to meet immediately. Even though his friend sounded rushed on the phone, he didn't bother walking faster as he thought it was just another break on the case they were currently working on. A conman was never late, everyone else was simply early.

Neal's eyes were immediately bombarded by the blinding, flashing lights of the emergency and police vehicles. He saw Peter exit his black government car and rushed to where the commotion was happening. He decided to pick up his pace then as he still had a bit of ways to go to reach the street corner, and now he had to fight the increasing throng of bystanders trying to make their way to the site to catch a glimpse of what was going on.

He saw Peter kneel and hold a woman's hand. Neal tried to look around the growing crowd and immediately stopped in his track when he saw the face of the woman beside his kneeling friend, whose hands he was holding. Everything disappeared around him and all he could see was her face. It was as if the world was in slow motion. He didn't hear the busy sounds of the concrete jungle. All he could hear was the nervous beating of his heart.

His face went ashen with fear and shock he had never known followed by an unbearable stab of pain in his heart. Before he knew or realized it, his feet were leading him in full pace towards where she laid. His panicked blue eyes were only trained on her. He saw the scene in slow motion. He saw her lose consciousness. He saw her once youthful glow become deathly pale or was it his imagination? He ran even faster to get to her in time.

"Let me through…excuse me…get out of my way…" he pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the barricade and a uniformed officer stopped him from entering.

"It's alright. Let him in. He's with me," Peter said behind the policeman. He nodded in response and let Neal in. He arrived just as the EMT lifted Ryne's unconscious body and started rolling her towards the back of the ambulance. He tried to rush by her side. His hand touched her cold skin before Peter grabbed and held him back.

"Ryne! Ryne!" All he could do was shout her name.

"Sir, please, let us do our job and take her to the hospital. If she doesn't receive immediate treatment her chances become very slim," one of the technicians said but he didn't hear any of it on the account of the blood rushing to his head. Neal trashed in the agent's arms, but his grip was stronger. He just stood and watched as the team lifted her gurney onto the back of the truck. As soon as she was inside, Neal heard deathly loud tones coming from the machine attached to her. When a second ago he couldn't hear anything, now all he could hear were the harsh fast beeps of the heart monitor.

"She's going to cardiac arrest. Prep the defibrillator. And get me an oxygen bag just in case," the lady paramedic said to her partner.

Neal watched them work around each other. He couldn't believe what was happening. He thought it couldn't get any worse, but he was wrong. His worse nightmare became a living hell. He saw her body shake uncontrollably until all he could hear was a flat tone signaling the sign of no life.

"No! No! No!" Neal screamed as he struggled in his friend's arms. That was the last thing he heard before the ambulance doors closed. He wanted to touch her soft and warm skin, to see her beautiful eyes open, to hear her heavenly voice. But all he did was watch her be driven and taken further away from him.

Neal didn't realize he was crying until he tasted the salt on his lips. As a world-renowned con artist, he trained himself to always put a mask and never show his true face or show vulnerability to the public, but who cared about that now when the love of his life was slipping away from him. He turned to face Peter and to demand some answers.

"Peter, what the hell happened?" Neal cried breathlessly. When he saw Peter's hands covered with blood, his knees almost buckled out of nausea. He didn't have to ask to know it was hers. Bile threatened to come up, but he quickly took hold of his fear to prevent looking more vulnerable and weaker especially in front of the bystanders watching them, or more specifically, watching him.

Peter led him away towards his car. He didn't answer his question or said anything else he just guided Neal to the passenger seat. When he sat down, Peter made his way towards the drivers side and sped away to the direction of the New York Presbyterian Hospital. They didn't speak during the ride and tension built within the small confine of the vehicle. Peter kept glancing at Neal, but he only stared ahead unblinking.

Not more than fifteen minutes later, they arrived and burst through the door of the emergency room. Neal ran to the reception desk to ask the status for a Ms. Ryne Beneventi. The receptionist typed in her computer and spouted off typical medical jargon.

"She arrived not long ago. They managed to restart her heart. She was rushed to emergency surgery, so it will be a while till you hear anything," she recited almost monotonously as if she didn't care about what happened to her.

Neal controlled his anger and just walked away towards where the vending machines stood. He paced back and forth the tiny hallway. He clenched and unclenched his hands over and over again. He felt so weak and tired. He leaned on the side of one of the machines to rest and shut get away from all of it for a second, but all he could see was her unconscious body. He thought of Ryne and how he would give anything to trade places with her right now.

He couldn't hold his emotions in anymore and he burst into tears as he slid down the side of the machine. He was so close to losing her. He still could. He rested his elbows on his raised knees and covered his tears with his shaking hands.

Peter's heart broke as Neal fell apart. All he could do was watch. He didn't know how to help, but he thought a simple gesture would be a start. He knelt in front of his friend shielding him away from the eyes of people passing by. He reached out and patted Neal's shoulder lightly to let him know he was there to support him.

Neal willed himself to calm down. It took most of his strength, but he managed to hold his tears back in. Even though what he wanted to do was scream at the world, he didn't. Instead he sealed his emotions temporarily and put on a steely face. Not for himself but for the love of his life. He knows she's fighting to come back to him, so will he. He will fight and be strong so when she wakes up, he's there to welcome her. Slowly, he stood up and dusted his Devore suit and faced his friend.

"Peter, what happened?" He asked again this time determined to not be ignored. Peter hesitated to look his friend in the eye, afraid of what might come when he tells him of what he learned. But if he learned anything about Neal over the last several years was that he'd stop at nothing to learn the truth, so he didn't really have a choice but to tell him Ryne's last words.

#whitecollar #white collar #neal caffrey #nealcaffrey #neal x oc #neal caffrey x oc #peter burke #mozzie white collar #angst #romance #hurt #comfort #neal x peter #friendship

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burnouts3s3 · 4 years

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Last Meal, a Yu Yu Hakusho Fanfiction

https://amzn.to/3pPKgR8

(Disclaimer: This is a non-profit fan work. I do not own or claim to own the property known as Yu Yu Hakusho. Yu Yu Hakusho is copyrighted and owned by Shueisha, Weekly Shounen Jump and Yoshihiro Togashi and is licensed and localized by Funimation Entertainment. Please Support the Official Release.)

Last Meal

Former Spirit Detective Yusuke Urameshi made his living running a small Ramen stand. While the profits were meager at best, the shop gained a very favorable reputation for anyone who managed to drop by for a bite. Long gone were the days of Yusuke chasing after demons and criminals. Having quit his position from the Spirit World, he had long settled into his new role as the smart mouthed cook who often mouthed off to ungrateful customers.

After a long day with no customers, Yusuke took the moonlight sky as a sign to close up. He was just about to turn the lights off when a figure approached him.

“Sorry, pal, we’re closed,” Yusuke said, his face turned the other way.

“Not even for your old Principal?” an elderly but warm voice asked.

Former Principal Takenaka looked particularly out of character. Instead of wearing his usual beige suit with blue tie or the black suit he wore to Yusuke’s wake, he was instead in a Red Tracksuit, as though he came back from a long jog. His blonde hair now had streaks of grey in it and began to recede. Yusuke could also count much more wrinkles on Takenaka’s face.

“Sure, why not?” Yusuke turned around and began heating up the stove.

As Yusuke prepared Takenaka’s bowl of ramen, his mind wondered back to his Junior High days. Before Yusuke’s death, Yusuke often thought of Takenaka as an authority figure meant to nag him into submission while being a hypocrite. Yusuke unfairly placed him in the same category as Mr. Iwamoto only to realize, at Yusuke’s wake, that Takenaka thought more highly of him than that. Shamefully, Yusuke didn’t really keep in contact with him during his Spirit Detective days or his three year trip into the Demon World.

“You’re looking well,” Takenaka said.

“Sorry, I don’t take tips in the form of compliments,” Yusuke continued to have his back turned as he finished up the ramen.

“Am I so transparent?” Takanaka smiled.

“Not as much as you think you are,” Yusuke placed the bowl of ramen in front of his principal.

“I’m glad to see you doing so well for yourself,” Takenaka said, separating his chopsticks and picking up a hearty helping of noodles.

“Oh, you should see me during my off hours,” Yusuke said. Of course, Yusuke wasn’t sure how to put ‘by the way, I was almost king of the Demon World this one time until I was knocked out by this other asshole and lost the tournament I started in the first place’ into a conversation without making it terribly awkward.

“It’s good!” Takenaka said before taking another bite of ramen.

“Well, my wife’s a cook after all,” Yusuke washed the other dishes he intended to leave until the next day. “She’d be pissed at me if I gave somone a lousy meal. It’d give her family a bad reputation if she married someone who couldn’t make ramen.”

“I’m glad to hear Keiko’s doing well,” Takenaka chuckled.

“How’s retired life treating you?” Yusuke took a rag and started to wipe down various parts of the stand.

“Not as comforting as I had hoped,” Iwamoto said. “I’m going to miss that school.”

“Don’t tell me Iwamoto or Akashi took over!” Yusuke yelled. The thought of Iwamoto becoming the Sarayashiki Junior High principal stirred something inside Yusuke so fiercely, the former Spirit Detective was tempted to use his Demon powers to blow up his former school.

“Of course not!” Takenaka said, affronted at the idea. “I wouldn’t let those vultures near my school. In fact, one of my last acts as principal was to fire those two.”

“Some good news for once,” Yusuke sighed.

“Yusuke, do you remember that boy you saved that day you got hit by a car?”

“How could I forget?” Yusuke replied. Saving that boy started everything for Yusuke: taking his trial, returning to life, becoming a Spirit Detective, training under Genkai, taking on Team Toguro at the Dark Tournament, hunting down Sensui and discovering his Demon ancestry and going into the Demon world.

“You’ll never believe this, on his spare time, he volunteers as a crossing guard!” The older man chuckled.

“Yeah?” Yusuke asked. “Good for him.”

As Takenaka finished the ramen, he set the empty bowl down, placed the chopsticks on top and reached into his suit’s pockets.

“Darn, I think I forgot my wallet,” Takenaka continued to dig deeper into his pockets.

“Woah, I wasn’t serious!” Yusuke said, waving his hand off. “I’m not going to charge my old principal for a meal!”

“You’re too kind,” Takenaka slowly got up from his booth seat.

“You know Yusuke, out of all the students I had, you were, by far, the biggest pain in the ass.”

“I get that a lot,” Yusuke smirked.

“But you were also the one I was most proud to see graduate,” Takenaka smiled.

“Easy, or you’re going to make me blush…” Yusuke scratched the back of his neck out of a nervous tick.

“I’m glad to see you made something great out of yourself,” the former Principal smiled.

“Ready to go?” A female voice said. Yusuke didn’t need to turn around to recognize Botan’s voice, her signature oar she was currently riding on, or the bright pink kimono she was wearing, but did so anyway to wipe the countertop around Tanaka’s meal.

“That’s right,” Takenaka said, turning to Botan and taking her hand.

“We usually don’t allow ghosts to enjoy human meals,” Botan tucked a blue strand of hair behind her ear “You should consider yourself grateful.”

“I am,” Takenaka smiled.

“Any message you want to pass onto Koenma while I’m there, Yusuke?” Botan asked, gripping one hand onto her oar with the other holding Takenaka’s hand.

“Tell Pacifier Breath I hope he’ll graduate to pull-ups this century,” Yusuke smirked, picking up Takenaka’s empty bowl and placing into the sink.

“Still have no regard for authority, eh, Mr. Urameshi?” Takenaka sighed.

“I can’t grow up too fast!” Yusuke smirked. “Otherwise you wouldn’t recognize me!”

“Goodbye, Yusuke,” Takenaka smiled, holding onto Botan’s hand as she flew them upwards towards the night sky.

“What’s he saying goodbye for?” Yusuke sighed. “I’ll see him soon enough…”

(A/N: For those of you who don’t know, Brice Armstrong, the voice performer for the Dragonball Narrator, the original Captain Ginyu in Dragonball Z and most notably, in my opinion, Principal Takenaka from Yu Yu Hakusho, passed away at age 84. So I decided to write this quick one-shot to honor his memory. I give my condolences to his friends and family. Thank you for your performances.

Until then,

Keep writing!)

https://amzn.to/3pPKgR8

#yu yu hakusho #yyh #yoshihiro togashi #hunter x hunter #hxh #wsj #shounen jump #justin cook #brice armstrong #yusuke urameshi #urameshi #yusuke #funimation #funimation entertainment #Shueisha #rest in peace #botan #cynthia cranz

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inyri · 4 years

Text

Equivalent Exchange (a SWTOR story): Chapter 39- Extinction Burst

Equivalent Exchange by inyri

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Characters: Female Imperial Agent (Cipher Nine)/Theron Shan Rating: E (this chapter: M. Trigger warning: graphic violence.) Summary: If one wishes to gain something, one must offer something of equal value. In spycraft, it’s easy. Applying it to a relationship is another matter entirely. F!Agent/Theron Shan. (Spoilers for Shadow of Revan and Knights of the Fallen Empire/Knights of the Eternal Throne.)

Comments are always appreciated! Visit me at:

Archive of Our Own

Fanfiction Dot Net

(Yes, yes, I KNOW. A new job, two moves and a new baby- four months old now- will rather put one off one’s writing game. Mea maxima culpa.)

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Extinction Burst

The wire bites in; a memory surfaces.

***

She is sixteen years old.

The final combat examination is tomorrow and she ought to be in quarters but she begged an extra hour before curfew from the matron; the training rooms aren’t kept locked, as a rule, and she needs every minute of practice she can scrounge. If her mark isn’t in the top five she may as well forget the advanced course next year and that means goodbye to any hope of an Intelligence traineeship, which is entirely unacceptable. She hasn’t worked this hard to wind up stamping travel papers on some backwater planet, another factory-molded cog in the machine of the Diplomatic Corps. Father would be so- he’d be-

He’d be-

-angryashameddisappointedIraisedyoubetterthanthispathetic-

( oh, that hurts, oh, oh- a blank space in the memory and then it keeps going, like a stutter in an old recording-)

Not that ImpInt would be any less of a machine- she isn’t so naive as that. This is the Empire, after all.

In any case, her favorite room at the end of the hall’s empty. Setting the program to random- not nearly as good as a live partner but being out of quarters is bad enough, even with permission; any two of them caught together now after stupid Taima ratted out last weekend’s party’d mean a week locked in at least- she squares off against the combat droid.

Half an hour and three-quarters of the way through the fifth training sequence later, sweat prickles on her back beneath her shirt as the door slides open behind her and chill air from the corridor wafts into the room.

“Matron Rossi gave me a pass,” she pants between dodges, lifting her right arm to block and then counter the droid’s swing. It must be one of the patrolling guards, she thinks- heavy steps behind her, booted soles scraping on the duracrete floor, not another cadet soft-footed in standard-issue trainers. Turning around now would be dangerous; whoever it is, they’re disrupting the program. Rather rude. “But it’s in my trouser pocket so you’ll have to wait until the end of this sequence.”

Two more steps, drawing nearer as she aims a punch at the center target- stupid guards, they never did listen worth a damn. Against her better judgment she turns her head to look and suddenly she can’t breathe- something wraps around her throat, stiff and unyielding under her scrabbling fingers, tightening, tightening-

(It wasn’t a wire, then. But she was only a child, really, still fighting training dummies and shooting practice guns at printed targets between arithmetic and elocution and Imperial history lessons. A strap, one would think, ought to have been enough.)

She can’t cry out, she can’t get her hands beneath it, she can’t breathe, oh stars -

The room’s going dark. Did the lights shut off? She can barely see the combat droid as it lurches forward to flank her, still working its way by rote through the program; it’s going to catch her right in the teeth if she doesn’t move but that’s really not going to matter if she strangles first, which frankly seems more likely (what are you doing , stupid girl, think or you’re going to die here, MOVE)-

- until she finally, finally remembers the lesson from three weeks ago’s grappling practice and pivots toward him, throwing her weight sideways as hard as she possibly can.

The pressure eases on her throat just a little. Balling up one fist, she drives it hard into her attacker’s groin. He- thank all the stars it’s a he, that’d have been properly useless on a woman- flinches and she tries to snake her hand up the gap between his arm and body, searching for leverage. Whoever he is, he’s got probably a quarter-meter of height and a few dozen kilograms of weight on her and she’ll never be able to throw him over but if she can at least get him off-balance she might stand a chance. With the little breath she has she tries to scream; he claps a hand over her mouth and she bites down hard, wishing for pointed teeth like Nyssa’s or Dzurai’s because she only tastes leather and not blood and he’s got both ends of the strap in one hand, now, twisting it roughly around her neck and pulling her down until she’s bowed over-

She’s been hit by the droid dozens of times in her training. She remembers the sound and the feel of it, a dense slap of metal on flesh hard enough to leave welts for days, and wonders why it doesn’t hurt this time- she hears it strike home, that same awful thudding sound and then a crack, sharp, like dry kindling breaking underfoot. She should feel it. It should hurt. Why doesn’t it hurt?

The strap slips away, sliding against her skin. The combat droid’s tinny voice chirps accusingly, warning light flashing in the corner of her vision- SEQUENCE FAILED. She needs to run, needs to get away; she starts to stumble toward the door and trips over something underfoot, falling to her knees, crawling.

SEQUENCE FAILED.

Her hand comes down on the man’s face. Frantic, she yanks it away but he doesn’t stir, doesn’t even move and-

SEQUENCE FAILED.

His eyes are open, vague and staring, his head twisted on his neck at an awful angle-

SEQUENCE FAILED.

(It was pure stupid luck how the droid had hit him, though her would-be assassin had had it coming: couldn’t even kill a half-trained girl and he was stupid to boot, leaving the last message from Ellix’s father- fucking Ellix, that lazy little shit, it wasn’t her fault all his family’s money couldn’t buy him decent marks and that she’d thrashed him in the preliminaries last week- on the commpad in his pocket for security to find. But she’d never seen anyone die before. She’d never killed anyone before, even if indirectly, even if it was an accident and she was only trying to run.

He’d had it coming. She had let that thought soothe her in the moments when his face filled her dreams.)

She takes a deep breath in, and screams.

***

It isn’t the first time Nine’s had a garrote around her throat; it likely won’t be the last. But she has two things in her favor that she didn’t at sixteen.

Even as the wire cuts at her skin she can feel the attack angle’s not quite right, meant to snare someone taller- as it is, it nearly hits her jawbone and bites into the soft flesh beneath her chin. On someone Theron’s height- on Theron, it would have been Theron here if she hadn’t intervened - it would have caught him just at the pulse-point, through to the carotids maybe even before he lost his breath. Their nasty little mole sprung his trap on the wrong person and it took him a few seconds too long to realize it, long enough for her to start to shift to counter him. Too bad for him.

The misjudged angle alone might have let her survive, even unarmed. But the second thing in her favor is that unlike all those years ago she’s armed with more than her bare fists tonight and (all right, maybe it’s three things in her favor) she gives precisely zero fucks about how badly she’s about to make him hurt.

Fighting the reflexive urge to grab at the wire, she moves her right hand to her belt instead and draws her knife. It springs into her fingers, blade humming but inaudible beneath the scuff of boots on duracrete and her desperate ragged breaths; she reverses grip and drives it straight backward into her attacker.

(She hopes. If she misses she can strike again, of course, but even at a bad angle the wire’s still making mincemeat of her throat and there’s only so much time before- well. Best not to test whether Valkorion really does mean to keep her alive.)

If Theron’s scars are anything close to par for the SIS course, its agents take twice as many beatings as she ever did in Imperial Intelligence. Whether that’s down to bad luck or subpar training is a matter of debate, but all the thrashings in the galaxy still can’t prepare one for a vibroknife to the groin and when her strike hits home- more in the thigh, really, she feels the blade bite through fabric and into muscle without the telltale skitter-scrape of metal on bone- she twists it hard.

It’s enough. For a fraction of a second the wire pulls tauter and she smells blood before she feels it, trickling down into her collar, but then he lets go with one hand to push her away, to put some distance between himself and her knife. When the blade rips free he snarls, the first meaningful sound she’s heard him make since she entered the room. He hadn’t expected that, clearly. Theron too often only carried his blasters or at best a utility knife and it would have been a tricky shot; if he’d hesitated for even a moment-

Theron always tried to talk his way out of things. But it’s hard to talk with an opened throat.

Her attacker- human or near it in this light, with the sort of face one could pass in the street and forget a moment later- starts to duck back behind the crates that had hidden him initially. As he moves out of sight she reaches for a kolto syringe, then thinks better of it. It would only take a few seconds and he won’t be getting at her neck again but what else is he armed with? A few seconds might be long enough for her to find out the hard way.

The stack of crates casts a dark shadow in the flickering light. He’s only a step or two ahead of her now, slowed by the wound, and she closes the distance with a leap and throws all her weight at his back. Grabbing with her free hand at his collar, she manages a fistful and holds tight to it, clinging fast to drag him down. He staggers and braces himself against a corner as she gets her blade arm up around his throat, then the other.

“Yield,” Nine hisses in his ear. “Or-”

She barely hears the shot go off.

It misses, more or less; the bolt of energy only grazes her right thigh, a split second of heat and pain that she dismisses before the sound of it leaves her ears. He would have had to shoot through himself to hit her anywhere vital but still- now she’s brought a blade to a gunfight and he appears to be going for or.

Oh, well. Too bad for him.

When she won’t let go he turns instead, putting her squarely between his body and the crates behind, and her back slams against the corner with enough force to rattle her teeth once and then again and then again. Between blows she slashes at his side; his throat would be easier but she wants him to talk, not bleed to death on the storeroom floor. The blade skitters off something hard beneath his jacket, raising sparks within the shadows. Armor. This isn’t going to-

She hits the crate a fourth time and it knocks the air out of her.

Oof. Change of plan, then.

He rocks forward once more. This time, though, she lets go and drops before he can pin her, tucking into a sideways roll that takes her just clear of his feet to the left as she throws her knife to the right. It clatters across the duracrete and with her weight suddenly gone he pauses, turning in the direction of the noise. (It’s a little disappointing he fell for that one, really. Oldest trick in the book.) She flips on her stealth generator in one quick movement and by the time he looks back toward her she’s gone.

“Stop fucking around, Cipher.” His voice is softer than she would have expected and subtly hoarse. Unfamiliar, though clearly he knows her- or of her, at least. “Let’s finish this.”

A single larger storage box, perhaps two meters tall, sits further to her left amid the stacked-up piles. If she can get on top of it she’d have a better angle to get a shot off, or a dart-

“You’re bleeding,” he says, not moving; she takes a silent step toward the box and then another and another, glancing down at the ground around her feet. Maybe she ought to have used the kolto after all; the best stealth tech in the galaxy can’t mask a blood trail. “You think you can hide?”

She’s behind the box now. She reaches up, hands outstretched, gripping the lid. Keep talking, idiot. Keep talking.

Click-click-click, the sound of an augment screwed onto a blaster barrel. “Don’t bother going for the door, by the way. Got it covered.”

Oh, now he’s just being insulting.

Slowly, carefully, silently- her belt clasp knocks slightly against the lip of the lid and she freezes in place, one foot atop the box, until she’s certain he’s not moving toward her- she pulls herself up and edges toward the far side. Where is he? She can’t quite see him. Hiding up against something, maybe- his voice hadn’t moved, but he could be projecting it or- shit, what if he’s got stealth tech, too?

No. He hadn’t been cloaked when he struck at her, she’d just been distracted. He’s hiding, and probably telling the truth about a sightline on the exit: he thinks she’s prey. He thinks she’s wounded, bleeding, frightened. He thinks she’s outmatched and trying to escape, to regroup and find allies to come back and finish the job.

(Cipher, Cipher, run away, live to fight another day. Valkorion’s voice sing-songs in the back of her head. A pithy little rhyme. Isn’t that what you were taught?

Nine grits her teeth. Shall I just let him lop my head off, old man? How long will your ghost last after I die?

Spirit, Valkorion murmurs. Spirit. But I can show you where-

Be silent, she says, and loads a sedative dart into the launcher on her wrist. I’m hunting.)

Crouched atop the box, she scans the room. Think like a ‘pub- he expects her to break before he does. Where would she have holed up, were she him? No stealth and a leg injury- somewhere ground-level but with cover, a niche in the wall or a well-placed column-

There! The tip of a blued-out blaster pistol peeks out beyond the edge of a ration crate, reflecting just enough light to be visible from her perch as it tracks back and forth along the line of the exit door. Target located. Step one, complete. Now to step two- three quick hops ought to put her just above him but only if he doesn’t get punchy at the first hint of a sound, and if he’s already wiggling his fucking gun around like a stimmed-up infantry grunt she’d bet he’s the punchy type.

She can think of a quick way to fix that, of course: can’t get punchy if he can’t hear. Hylo won’t be happy with her, but to mangle the metaphor one can’t make an omelet without breaking a few crates.

Sorry, Hylo.

She pulls a flashbang off her belt and yanks the pin with her teeth, holds the grenade clenched in her fist as she starts to count down the fuse. Five. Four. Three- she lofts the grenade and watches as it soars, landing a meter away and rolling toward the SIS agent’s feet as he peeks out of cover at the noise - two - and she presses her hands firmly over her ears. One.

The moment the glare fades through her pressed-shut eyelids she’s moving, launching from her perch to the next-nearest stack and then the next, knocked out of alignment by the shockwave and wobbling alarmingly, and then one last leap to just above where her opponent’s now bent over and shaking his head back and forth like a half-stunned bantha. His bowed head creates a perfect target, a wide strip of skin exposed between hairline and collar.

She fires the dart into the back of his neck.

She waits.

He keeps moving for another six seconds (quicker-than-average metabolism; she makes a mental note) before his legs give way and his blaster falls from his limp fingers. Slumped against the crate, he slides down into a half-seated sprawl, head turning slowly from side to side as he squints into the dark.

“Where-?” He’s slurring now. Good. “Gonna kill me now, Cipher? Too ‘fraid to not hide?”

Switching off her generator, she jumps down to the floor beside him and kicks his blaster well out of reach. “Hardly afraid.” She doubts he can even hear her after a flashbang practically to the face. “You’re going to have a nice little nap, and then you and I-” he’s nearly unconscious now- “need to have a little talk.”

He heard that much, at least. Making a face, he grits his teeth and she hears something crack just as his eyes start to roll upward and one cheek starts to spasm.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Amateur.

“You’re not getting out of this,” she sighs, reaches into a belt pouch for the antitoxin injector she always keeps there, flips the cap back and jams it roughly into the man’s neck, “nearly that easily. Sleep well, agent.” His eyelids flicker, then drift fully shut; she slaps him hard- he deserves it, after all, for what he would have done to Theron and for her mangled throat; she’s still bleeding where the wire bit in and it’s worse than she’d first thought, shirt soaked down to her collarbones now and the smell of her own blood filling her nose even over the lingering oxidizer- and he doesn’t rouse. “We’ll chat again soon.”

No answer.

Good.

“SCORPIO?” She activates her comm but suspects she doesn’t need to. That droid has ears everywhere. “SCORPIO, I need you and Lana at my location- and Doctor Lokin. And a pair of restraining cuffs.”

“Of course, Commander.” A pause, and then- “Transport?”

“And a duffel bag. A large one.”

SCORPIO never smiles; her chassis isn't capable of it. Given how smug she sounds, that's almost certainly for the best. “Of course, Commander. En route."

#inyri writes #equivalent exchange #swtor fanfiction #nine #imperial agent #wow it's been a long time #but baby girl's finally sleeping through most nights #so maybe I'll get a little free time back now #maybe

32 notes · View notes

mandowh0re · 4 years

Text

Devil’s Advocate

Chapter 1

Summary: After a violent breakup with her now ex-boyfriend, Liza is ready to give up on relationships. In an attempt for safety, she moves to a city across the country. That’s where she finds herself now. In her new apartment, staring into the eyes of the devil, who claims to be in love with her. Also, since when is the devil a woman?

Word Count: 2186

A/N: Wassup my lovely fucks! I am in quarantine and have decided to show myself once again! This is a story that is NOT marvel related but I’m working on stories outside of fanfiction to practice writing my own characters. This will be an 18+ story. I really like this one so far, so even if you followed me for marvel content, please give it a try?

P.S. I am not a doctor so this will be filled with medical inaccuracies, sorry.

Warnings: domestic abuse, descriptions of injury, scene with a violent fight (I will warn when the scene starts and ends)

Happy reading!

“... Twenty-four year old female… multiple….”

“... C.T. is ready…”

“... We need to…”

“... Liza? We need you to…”

(!!!)

“Where are you going?”

Liza nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Luke’s voice. He was supposed to be at work for another three hours, and she needed all the time she could to pack her things.

Slowly, Liza turned around to see Luke standing in the entryway of the living room. He looked mad. He always looked mad.

“Hey honey, you’re home early.” Liza replied, not answering his question and fighting to keep her voice even. If she showed fear this would be even worse.

“You weren’t answering my calls.”

Shit.

“I’m sorry, I was cleaning and I guess I didn’t hear my phone-“

“You’re lying. Don’t lie to me. Where are you going?”

Liza’s eyes flickered from Luke to the nearest exit. She knew in her bones this wasn’t going to end well for her.

The closest exit was past Luke, but there were multiple objects she could use as a weapon. The wine bottle at the bar seemed the best.

“I was headed to Jess’. She’s really sick and needs someone over there-“

“You see,” Luke interrupted as he stepped closer, his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained on Liza, “I gave you a chance to tell me the truth, and I warned you not to lie to me. I stopped by the hospital, Jess was there. Said you felt sick so you stayed home today.”

Liza could feel her heart in her throat. She couldn’t very well argue with him. Jess, bless her, had tried to cover for her. Because the reality of it was that she had quit. She had planned on leaving an hour before Luke got home. She needed to leave him or he would quite literally be the death of her.

In a last minute attempt to save herself, Liza bolted towards the bar, but was stopped short when Luke grabbed her wrist.

He spun her back to face him, and punched her square in the face.

“You thought you could leave me? After everything we’ve been through?” Luke asked, as he backhanded Liza and threw her against the wall, “I did everything for you. I was so good to you. I loved you! And this is how you repay me?”

Another punch, this time to her stomach. Then another. And another.

Liza coughed, and blood dripped from her mouth. She knew the only way she would get out of this alive was if she called for help now.

Luke was currently going on a rant, so while he was distracted she quickly tumbled towards the couch and grabbed her phone from her bag. She unlocked it, found the app that Jess had made her download weeks ago, and pressed the panic button multiple times before a wad of her hair was grabbed and she was tossed across the room.

“You fucking bitch! You listen when I talk to you! Are you leaving me for another guy? Huh? Is that it you slut!” He added emphasis on ‘slut’ as he reared his foot back and kicked her ribs, “I bet it’s that fucker, Dennis? The one at the coffee shop you like so much?” Another kick to the ribs, “I’ll fucking kill him!”

Luke dropped down on top of Liza, grabbed her hair and slammed her head into the floor several times before adding another punch to the face.

Liza was wheezing and coughing, trying to keep awake and from choking on her own blood. Tears stung her eyes and she felt herself slipping. She faintly heard the sound of sirens, but they were too late. She saw the metal glint in Luke’s hands.

She was dead.

Luke leaned down so that his face was right next to her head.

“I’ll kill him,” he whispered, “Right after I kill you.”

At first there was pain, and then, there was nothing.

***(!!!)

Sounds. Sounds came back first.

The first thing she heard was beeping. Then as she began to come out of her sleep she could make out the faint sounds of voices.

Next was smell.

Wherever she was, it smelled clean. And oddly familiar.

Suddenly, like a train, all of her senses crashed into her at once as she realized where she was and why she was there.

Her eyes flew open, as much as they could, and then there was a loud alarm next to her.

She knew that alarm. She needed to get her heart rate down.

But it didn’t matter. Because Luke could come find her at any time and she had to hide.

She threw the blankets off of her and went to stand, but fell to the ground, bringing her IV drip with her.

Several nurses suddenly burst in the door, as well as a security officer.

“Ma’am, you need to stay in bed,” One nurse tried telling her as the other nurses tried to get her back on her bed.

“No, he’s going to find me!” Liza shrieked, fighting against the nurses, throwing weak punches where she could. She vaguely registered someone yelling out for a sedative.

“No! No you can’t do that! He’ll find me and he’ll finish what he started and-“

“Liza,”

That voice. She knew that voice. She opened her eyes, which she hadn’t realized were closed, and saw a blurry image of her friend in front of her.

When had she started crying?

“Jess?”

“Hey girlie. I need you to calm down okay?”

Liza’s chest heaved as she forced in a breath. Jess was here. Jess always kept her safe.

“But… But Luke-“

“Is in jail.” Jess said with a certain finality to her voice, “The police found him when they got to your house. At first they thought…” Jess swallowed the lump in her throat and Liza was vaguely aware of the other nurses inserting new IVs.

“But they rushed you into the ER. They paged me saying there was a critical Jane Doe. But I knew, I knew it was you. When I saw you I- It took everything in me not to go and kill him myself.”

“So… He’s... gone?” Liza asked, her voice shaking.

Jess nodded, “Yeah. He isn’t going to hurt you again. So could you please lay your stubborn ass down so I’m not constantly on the verge of a heart attack, please?”

Liza smiled, or tried to, it probably looked like a grimace. She laid back down with the help of the other nurses.

Now that she was up and the IV had unhooked for a few minutes, her brain fog had cleared enough to let her understand the situation.

“How bad?” She asked.

Jess placed a hand on the shoulder of another nurse, who Liza recognized as Rhonda. She was always nice to her. She always looked out for Liza.

“I’ve got this,” Jess spoke quietly. Rhonda nodded and finished the IV she was placing before leaving the two friends alone.

It was quiet for a moment before Liza asked again, “Jess?”

“You won’t remember anything I tell you right now. They’ve got you on some pretty strong stuff. Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up and I’ll tell you.”

She wanted to fight, but Liza felt the medication pulling her under and she just didn’t have the energy. So she let the darkness wrap around her once again.

***

Jess was sitting in a chair next to her bed. Liza was finally moved out of the ICU and demanded that her friend tell her what all Luke had done.

“... Contusions everywhere. Ruptured spleen. And a stab wound to the abdomen that pierced multiple organs,” Jess sniffled and wiped a tear off her cheek, “They lost you twice in the first surgery. They wouldn’t let me in the room, said I was too close to the case. Honestly, everyone was shocked you made it out alive.

“You were in critical care for the first several days. On a ventilator for the first four. God, when you started breathing on your own I actually threw up, you know. I was so nervous.”

It was silent for a few minutes, Liza soaking up all of the information she had just been given.

“How long was I out?” She asked.

“Almost a week and a half. After you woke up the first time they put you into a coma so it wouldn’t happen again.”

It was quiet between the two for several minutes before Jess sniffed and swiped at her tears again, “You need to rest.”

Liza nodded and leaned back onto the bed once more, and attempted another smile when Jess squeezed her hand before leaving the room.

***

“So I was thinking we could find you a new apartment, one of the fancy ones with extra security. Then when you’re feeling better you could come back to work-“

“I’m still leaving.” Liza cut off Jess’ thoughts, “I mean, I don’t want to. But I also do. I don’t feel safe here. I want to restart. Somewhere where nobody knows me.” Liza was poking at her food with her fork. Suddenly, she had no appetite.

“Oh, okay. Yeah. I get that. I just, I guess I thought it would be easier… But you’re right,”

“Jess, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no need to be sorry,” Jess sniffled and gave a watery smile, “You need to do what’s best for you. I’m just going to miss my best friend, is all.”

“I know. I’m gonna miss you too. But you’re gonna come out to visit me as soon as possible, right?”

“Duh,” Jess gently pushed Liza’s shoulder and the two of them giggled, “Jack and I are coming out as soon as I have enough vacation saved up.”

A pang of guilt hit Liza. Jess had used up most of her vacation time while Liza was in the hospital, a majority used after she had woken up the first time.

A feat that the doctors couldn’t figure out how it had happened, she learned, since she hadn't been weaned off the sedatives yet.

Liza barely remembered that. Jess had to tell her what had happened. Though she supposed it was a good thing she didn’t remember most of that incident. Apparently she had nearly gone berserk.

“Hey,” Jess’ voice stirred Liza from her train of thought, “You okay?”

Liza cleared her throat, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

“Yeah, of course. You should rest. I’ll come see you later.” Jess got up and pulled the small table Liza had been eating on to the side of the bed and pulled the blankets up to cover her.

Grabbing the food tray, Jess snuck out of the room and headed to the nursing station, dropping the food tray on the cart as she passed.

“Hey, she sleeping?” Lynne, one of Liza’s nurses, asked.

“I don’t know if she’s sleeping. But she’s resting.” Jess said as she slid into one of the empty chairs.

“That’s better than nothing,” Lynne looked back up from her paperwork, “Why do you look constipated?”

Jess shot a look at her friend before pinching the bridge of her nose, “She still wants to move. And I get it, I do, but I can’t keep her safe if she’s all the way across the country!”

Lynne sighed, “Jess. Honey, she was half way across town and was very nearly killed. I know you feel responsible. But you were doing everything you could. From what she told us, you were helping her get out,”

“I should have given her a way to defend herself.”

“You can’t dwell on the past. Not anymore. Because that’s all she’s going to do, and you need to be strong for her. You need to be that beacon of hope, even if you’re clear across the country.”

“How do I keep her from finding someone like him again?” Jess didn’t dare speak his name. It was like poison. And she didn’t want it on her tongue, “Because, Lynne, if someone lays a hand on her one more time, I might actually go to jail. No, scratch that. I definitely will go to jail. I would have that night if Doctor Tiruneh didn’t physically pull me into a supply closet and refuse to let me leave until I calmed down.”

Lynne blew out some air, running a hand down her face, “You can’t guarantee she won’t find someone like him again. In fact, it’s entirely possible she will. Some people end up in a cycle they can’t break, some people can break it after one relationship gone bad. Hopefully, this was enough for her to break that cycle. All you can do is be there for her and try to guide her.”

“I should have called the cops when I saw the bruises the first time,”

“That wasn’t your call to make,”

“Yeah, well, look where it got us.”

“She’s alive. That’s all that matters,”

Jess sat there for a few more minutes before she stood abruptly and headed out. She needed fresh air to think.

------

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Complete Review: Insanity: Jeff the Killer by Neesha Nickleson

DISCLAIMER: There are spoilers in this review. I highly doubt you will have any plans to read this book, but if you don’t want it to be spoiled, just don’t read the review until after you’ve read the book. To take a break from Empress Theresa and the pain that it has been causing me, I decided to read a fanfiction that Neesha Nickleson, self-published and sold via Amazon. Insanity: Jeff the Killer is significantly shorter than Empress Theresa, at a grand total of 76 pages. On the Amazon listing, Nickleson admits in ‘Videos for this product’ section that she wrote the book when she was fifteen, which in itself is almost endearing to me. Apparently, she wrote it for a contest that Nickleson claims to have won. I’m not entirely sure what the contest was for, but kudos to her. Nickleson also comments that there’s a sequel to this book, however, I haven’t been able to find it. Neesha if somehow by the will of the fates if you find this review; Please, I just want book two. When will you release book two for purchase? I need it in my life. The Summary: “Bullies and liars beware: A new threat is arising. Naomi Jansen just wanted to have a normal carefree life until she met Jeff at summer camp. Jeff is a laid back teenage boy with a dark secret. Then one morning at camp, Naomi hears that one of her long time bullies, Mallory, was found dead in her cabin. Naomi suspects Jeff at first but then decides that he’s too sweet do something like that, until a series of events changes her mind and her outlook on sanity.” This summary isn’t terrible, to be honest. I’ve read far worse, though personally there are a few things I don’t like about it. First of all, revealing that Naomi’s bully was killed. I know this isn’t much of a plot twist because it happens within the first couple of pages in the book, but it gets rid of a sense of mystery. Second, we don’t really know anything about the characters right off of the bat besides general characteristics. I would have preferred if Jeff’s characteristics were written from Naomi’s first impression, for example: “Jeff seemed like a laid back teenager, though when Naomi hangs out around him, the air feels off.” Not the best that could be done considering I literally just threw that out there, but there are small revisions that could be done to give more of a sense of mystery to the book and the characters without pulling from the content of the summary itself. I do know that this book is quite literally about the Creepypasta, Jeff the Killer, so it isn’t as if anyone reading it has no idea who Jeff the Killer is, but I do feel like the point still stands. Just because a reader has an idea about the content of the book doesn’t give an author the excuse of revealing plot points in the summary. I do also understand that it was written when Nickleson was a fifteen-year-old, so I don’t hold much against her in that regard. Hell, I wrote shitty fanfiction when I was fifteen. However, if you are willing to publish your work online and even sell it, you are going to have to expect criticisms and reviews. The Characters: Naomi Jansen - The main female lead, Neesha Nickleson’s original character. Jeff Woods - The main male lead, based heavily on if not is completely a mirror of the Creepypasta, Jeff the Killer. Liu Woods- Jeff’s brother, both in the story and in the world of Creepypasta. Based off of or mirrors the character of Liu Woods. Mallory - Naomi’s bully. Randy - As per Nickleson’s descriptions, the “average-sized” skater boy. He’s the boss of Troy and Keith. Troy - the “fat” skater boy and can apparently run very fast. Keith - the “skinny” skater boy Plot Summary and Breakdown: Considering that the book is only 76 pages, there’s not much plot to it, but there is a plot. The entire book follows Jeff and Naomi around, from their first encounter at a summer camp to the ‘first day of school’ and finally to the moment when both of them snap and kill their families. It’s a fairly simple and straightforward plotline, which works to the advantage of the story at some points. At other points, however, the rapid pacing of the book can be incredibly confusing and makes little to no sense. There are a lot of logical gaps throughout the story that can leave a reader confused or holding their head in their hands, which I will go into as we delve into the storyline itself. Nickleson also has a tendency to flip between Jeff and Naomi’s perspective throughout the chapters, which is a problem within itself. Thankfully she does label in big and completely capitalized letters when she is switching perspectives, which makes it easier to follow along. There can be a few problems with jumping perspectives in the middle of chapters because we lose connection with the character who was just narrating at times, though it can certainly help the book from becoming repetitive when you want to repeat a scene from a different perspective. In this case, however, it would have been best to completely write the book from third-person rather than jumping between first-person perspectives. First-person can work incredibly well for emotional impact and drawing the reader in, however, in my opinion, it is still possible to do that in a third-person perspective. Perhaps an author wouldn’t be able to do it as well, but in the case of Insanity: Jeff the Killer It would have worked just fine. We start off the book from Naomi’s perspective as her mom is dropping her off at Summer Camp. She is dropped off at a Summer Camp every single year, though this is the first year that she’s seen Jeff, so we could make the fairly logical guess that Jeff is new in town. Namoi’s first opinion of Jeff is that he’s a ‘weirdo’ for wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer. I honestly can’t blame Jeff for wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer because I do the exact same thing. Admittedly, the hoodie I wear in the middle of summer is a lightweight one, but I do. If I could go all year without ever having to stop wearing my jackets I would be so content (So, let’s stop global warming pls. It’s getting harder to wear jackets in the middle of summer. This is a terrible reason for wanting to stop global warming, but any reason to stop it is decent enough in my opinion). We don’t really get Jeff’s first impression of Naomi, but he does follow her and sit next to her to introduce himself because I guess she gave him a weird look. This is when we meet Mallory, who somehow already knows Jeff despite the fact that I thought he was new in town. Mallory is a little asshole, ‘nuff said. Just kidding, I have more to say. Mallory calls Jeff her “future husband Jeffy”. She also absolutely adores the color pink which we find out because she’s covered head-to-toe in pink. We also know that Mallory is Naomi’s longterm bully from the back summary, yet, she already knows who Jeff is despite the fact that I’m fairly certain that Jeff moved in. This was a little confusing for me, but I decided to just take it as a sign that Mallory had met Jeff when he arrived at camp and she decided right then and there that he would be her husband. It’s not entirely unreasonable for a teenage girl to say that about a boy that she finds attractive, right? I mean none of my friends ever said that about anyone that they found attractive, but it’s something that I’ve heard about happening. Mostly in movies, but I’m sure it happens elsewhere. I think. Maybe. Anyways, Mallory basically attacks Naomi with a fucking pink and sparkly knife that her mom gave her. She cuts up Naomi’s arms, legs, back, and waist to prove that she’s better than her. This is where we learn that Mallory is a psychotic fucking bitch, and this is where Mallory kisses her life away. Naomi doesn’t tell anyone who could do something about it that Mallory did this to her and instead just fixes herself up. She does meet up with Jeff a little bit later and shows him what Mallory did, he feels bad about it because he just watched before passing out (I think). A little later on Naomi goes to bed and has a dream about Jeff killing Mallory, we move on to the next chapter and SURPRISE Jeff killed Mallory and her entire cabin. Here’s where the first logical fail comes in; Rather than keeping everyone in the camp to be interviewed by the police or to keep the potential killer from running away, as soon as it is found out that Mallory and her entire cabin were brutally murdered, the camp decides to send them home early. From what I can gather, there’s a little voice in Jeff’s head that tells him to commit these violent acts, though it really only crops up when someone has hurt Naomi. This seems a little ridiculous to me considering that he literally just met her and as far as the book goes, it doesn’t seem like he had these violent tendencies before he knew her. However, Jeff doesn’t want her to find out that he was the murderer so when Naomi’s mom is giving them a ride home, he tries to hide the fact that there’s very clearly a bloodstain on the pocket of his white hoodie by saying that it’s spilled kool-aid. The bloodstain came from the knife he used to kill Mallory, which as far as I could figure out, isn’t a small knife. How Jeff got away with this, I will never ever know, nor do I think I could ever hope to know. Naomi excuses this and accepts it without question because she believes that Jeff is too sweet to have committed a brutal mass murder. I don’t know if this is naive or endearing that Naomi already seems to be falling for Jeff, though this is mostly from my own inference rather than any emotion that has been implied. Emotion tends to be another problem throughout the book. There’s no emotion in it. The characters seem to be cold and blank slates, even when facing some pretty anxiety and adrenaline-inducing situations. Even when they’re potentially facing death, we don’t get much emotion out of it, and in this regard, the book tends to be pretty disappointing. The way that the plot is laid out, emotion is incredibly important to the story and so are their thoughts and opinions because it is supposed to be a total spiral into madness. When Jeff and Naomi both snap and lose their sanity, we don’t see that spiral, it’s sudden and jarring. There was no slow spiral or thoughts that circled down the drain faster and faster until both of them gave in. A little bit of that is implied with Jeff, which I’ll talk about later on, but the reader doesn’t get any of that from Naomi, making her sudden transition to insanity abrupt and with no foreshadowing other than it being blatantly stated on the back of the book. However, I digress. Moving back onto the plot, we meet Liu when Jeff is dropped off at his own house. I assume Liu is around the same age as Jeff, though I’m not entirely sure on that point. This is were another logical fail comes in; Despite having been told only pages before that they were being sent home early from camp, apparently, the first day of school is tomorrow. The rapid pacing of the book created this failure of logic and made me pause for a second to question just what I was reading. It only took a few seconds to remind myself that this was a book written by a fifteen-year-old and originally was posted as a fanfiction. Of course, that’s not to say that all fanfictions are bad, there are some absolutely amazing ones out there, but I do have yet to find one written by a fifteen-year-old that doesn’t have some error in logic. Nickleson just so happens to have more than a few errors, especially towards the end of the book. Before the first day of school however, Jeff texts Naomi and tells her to go watch the news. So, she heads downstairs and turns it on. It’s a live report of Mallory’s mother accusing Naomi of killing Mallory. And, as it would turn out, they’re right out front of Naomi’s house as well which is rather convenient because they want to interrogate her on live TV and ask if she killed Mallory and why. Because, you know, having someone interrogated by the news rather than having the police interrogate them always goes well. Naomi exposes the cuts that Mallory gave her and essentially just calls Mallory a horrible person. There was no questioning here, the news reporter just accepting it without a single word and declaring Mallory a horrible person. Ultimately this whole episode and everything that Mallory has done is inconsequential to the rest of the book and everything is pointless. I’m dragging on the longer side here, so I’ll try to speed things up so my review doesn’t end up as long as the actual book is. The first day of school comes and Jeff and Liu are waiting at the bus stop with Naomi. We meet the three skater boys here, Randy, Tony, and Keith. We realize that Jeff and Liu really are new to town because Randy tells them that the new kids have to pay a bus fee because they’re new. Rather than paying it though, they decide to fight. Jeff stabs Keith in the legs and the arms though this never really matters because Keith is fine. Jeff and Liu run to their house and Naomi runs to hers. A short while later Naomi shows up at Jeff’s house and claims to have knocked out the three boys with a metal baseball bat, though right after she did Randy somehow cut open her arm. Blah, blah, blah, they watch a movie, eat some pizza, and then Jeff makes his love confession to her by kissing her. Naomi reciprocates the love and BOOM I guess they’re dating now, how lovely. Despite the fact that this is supposedly the first day of school nobody is questioning just why they’re playing hooky from school and just accept the fact that they’re not at school. A little while later they go back to Naomi’s house and we learn that Naomi’s mom was home the entire time. So why she didn’t go to her mom for help is beyond me. Naomi shoots at Randy with a bb gun and they all run off after coming after her and Jeff again. She then goes back to Jeff’s house with him for reasons even I don’t get because it seems like they’re just jumping between houses at this point. Liu gets arrested here after saying that he was the one who beat up the three boys, covering for Jeff. Jeff is upset about it and for some reason, Naomi is as well because she thinks that she could have had proof to stop them from arresting Liu despite the fact that she said only moments before that he’ll spend two days in jail at most. Liu doesn’t get a trial for this whole thing, which only makes it more confusing why he’s spending a few days at a Juvenal Detention Facility. Related story time: When I was 12 I got into a big fight with some of the kids, enough so that the cops were involved. It was mostly just some throwing of hands and the boys shouting “punch her in the boob.” It happened because one of them, threatened to grope my 8-year-old sister, and as the big sister of the family, I couldn’t let that happen. I called him an idiot and we got into a fight. Nobody was arrested, nobody got into trouble with the police, just with their parents. There were a few bruises and a couple days later at school, the boy came up and apologized to me. Look, I know Keith got stabbed in Jeff’s fight, but honestly, it’s never mentioned again and Keith runs like he didn’t get stabbed at all and acts like he didn’t ever get stabbed so I honestly don’t know if Nickleson remembers that Jeff stabbed Keith. As such, I think it’s a little ridiculous that Liu, a child, was arrested, and sent to Juvie without trial, for a fight when the three skater boys weren’t arrested either. Moving along from that whole mess, Jeff and Naomi go to an 8-year-old’s birthday party because Jeff was invited by the kid’s mother after Jeff and his family moved into the neighborhood, and Naomi babysat the kid. Randy and Co. show up to the party and Naomi send all the children inside. The Co. have guns and are aiming them at the adults so they don’t try to interfere. Randy lunges at Jeff and Jeff fucking murders him. Keith obviously is upset by this and breaks a bottle of vodka over Jeff’s head after dropping his gun. I don’t know why he had a bottle of vodka or where he got it, but he has one. He then chases Jeff upstairs and to the bathroom and another fight breaks out. A bottle of bleach from a bathroom shelf falls onto Jeff and douses him in bleach. Keith points out that Jeff is now covered in bleach and vodka and proceeds to light him on fire. Bitch what the f u c k. I will admit, I do think that this is a creative solution as to why Jeff has bleached skin and does follow along well enough with the actual story of Jeff the Killer, so I am inclined to believe that Nickleson either did a bit of light research into his story or had some prior knowledge about it. This is one thing that I will give the book kudos on. Jeff wakes up at the hospital, after the bandages are removed he finds out that his skin is bleached and he says that he loves it. Naomi apparently loves it as well and nobody in his family concerned in the slightest that Jeff loves it. We find out that Keith was caught though Tony managed to evade the police because as the reader learns earlier in the book, despite being larger in size, Tony can run like the fucking wind. This becomes a problem later on in the book because Tony comes back and shoots Naomi. Yes, Tony shoots Naomi despite insisting much earlier on that she wasn’t part of the dispute, only Jeff was. Jeff hears the gunshot and grabs the biggest knife he can find and from what I can tell, he murders Tony as well. There’s a little bit of a typo in this section, as instead of saying that Jeff murdered Tony, Nickleson says that Jeff murdered Keith. This threw me off a little bit before I realized that it was a typo. Jeff goes to the hospital though in the ambulance that Naomi’s mother called when she heard the gunshot. Because when you hear a gunshot, your first instinct is to call an ambulance and not go see what happened to see if everyone is fine first. This is really the first bit of emotion we see in the book because Jeff is pacing back and forth so much that Liu, who is out of juvie at this point, points out that Jeff is going to wear a hole into the floor. Turns out, Naomi is fine because the bullets missed her brain and her heart by a millimeter. Now I’m not a doctor, but I’m at least 80% sure that could still kill you. Not only would a bullet near the brain shatter the skull and cause hemorrhaging from the distance it was, but it would screw a lot up. The impact of a bullet that close to your heart would probably still do a lot of damage as well, and yet, Naomi is released from the hospital that night. I’m more than certain that the doctors would have kept her for observation, but I suppose not. Before Naomi gets shot, we do get a decently sweet scene of Jeff dancing with Naomi, fulfilling a daydream she had of herself and Jeff dancing to a song called Fallen Angel. The artist of the song is never stated but apparently, it’s really good music for dancing and is appropriate enough for Naomi to daydream of herself and Jeff dancing to it in a ballroom. If anyone would care to fill me in on what song it could be, it would be much appreciated. The scene is short-lived though and doesn’t have as much emotion put into it as I would have liked. I think that it could be a beautifully sweet scene, though it isn’t. It isn’t a beautifully sweet scene simply because Nickleson doesn’t write descriptively enough to fill us in on what the characters are feeling. She tells us what they are feeling occasionally, but even then, it’s only on occasion and a story like this could greatly benefit from having emotions tied into it. After Naomi gets shot and released from the hospital Jeff snaps. He can’t see how beautiful he is when his eyes are closed and when he’s sleeping, so he goes and burns off his eyelids and cuts his cheeks so he’s always smiling (as per the actual story of Jeff the Killer). He then murders his parents and stabs Liu. I’m not sure if Liu actually dies or not as in his story, he survives though Jeff cuts a smile into his face rather than just stabbing him. Jeff then goes over to Naomi’s house, potentially to kill her and her parents, I’m not sure. He finds Naomi playing the piano and when she turns to him, she has “a cut along both of her eyes and a heart carved into her cheek.” I assume that she has a line cut over the top and bottom of her eye, rather than on her eyes because holy fuck that would be intense. But she reassures Jeff that she finds him beautiful still and shows him that she murdered her parents too. Jeff and Naomi go missing after this and are only seen again when they show up at an interview with a ten-year-old boy whose parents they murdered. They had nearly killed him though they didn’t get the chance, so they decide to take action and killed him and the interviewer in the middle of the interview. Jeff and Naomi then make a promise to come and kill everyone else. In the epilogue of the book, they show up to Slender Mansion, where they are warmly greeted by our friend, Slenderman whose movie in 2019 holds many nostalgic feelings for me but also sucked ass. If you don’t know what the Slender Mansion is, you can read about it here. It introduces you to what it is and is essentially just a giant rant about why it shouldn’t exist because it basically tells the canon of the creepypasta universe to fuck off as it does what it wants. It’s rather amusing, actually. Rating: 4/10 Ending Thoughts: Overall, it was an enjoyable read when you didn’t think about it too much. It brought me back to my days of loving Creepypasta and everything to do with it. It was an endearing fanfiction to read, even if not written amazingly well. It was still better than Empress Theresa and was a much-needed break from that shit show of a book. I also want book two Neesha. You said you had book two and it was better than this one. Where is book two, Neesha? I don’t know what I’m going to post next because I am genuinely dreading reading the next portion of Empress Theresa. It will probably take me longer to get through it as I want to do a couple of chapters in one go. Up next I’ll probably ready a book called The Rose Council, written by a man I absolutely despise. I’ll explain more in that post when I get around to doing it. Or perhaps, I’ll write a review on an actually good book for once.

#review #insanity: jeff the killer #neesha nickleson #book review #bad book #okay book?#entire book #creepypasta

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