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anitalenia · 11 months

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━━━ 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 ₓ˚. ୭

pairing: Ben Miller x fem!reader

synopsis: Ben Miller was a reckless man at times, always taking on more than he could chew just to prove himself more than he already has. After he got shot on a simple recon mission, and didn’t even acknowledge the possible consequence of his actions, you were sent into a tizzy. It wasn’t until you were taking a relaxing bath in the lake did Ben come to you to reconcile, taking you in the water to prove to you he’d never leave.

content includes: unprotected sex, sex in water, lake sex, dirty talk, pet names like baby, pretty girl, honey, sweetheart, some angst at the beginning and middle, aftercare-ish, make up sex, near death experiences, reader oblivious to the dangers of a random lake, fingering, titty play, nipple sucking + biting, p cumming in v, overstimulation

warnings: sexual content 18+, bad words and cussing, mentions of guns, bullets, gunshot wounds, and blood. a little inner turmoil too but who doesn’t love that.

authors note: honestly, I love me some Benny fr 😫 also, probably made this a lot more dramatic than it needed to be but oh well.

LINKS ੈ♡˳·˖✶ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 | 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒔

⤷ BY THE LAKESIDE, continue reading

BENNY’S HEADY STARE BURNED INTO you from across the fire, heavy with guilt and glittering with the orange flame of mild annoyance. His strong jaw was clenched, dirt smeared on his cheeks and clothes, his hands in tight fists inside his hoodie pockets. He was angry with you for being angry with him, angry that you were making him feel guilty for what reason? He didn’t know, and that made him all the more irritated.

You could feel it, his blue eyes boring into your skin and washing over you like hot oil; it made your flesh prickle. You refused to acknowledge him though, sat next to Pope as the both of you leaned back on a tree stump. Your body ached but your heart was shattered, and you could do nothing but stare into the orange flames with a tense frown, your eyebrows furrowed and lips tight together as the heat warmed your nose and cheeks. The group of five was silent, basking in their own aches and pains, almost scared to say anything and break the tense silence that had comfortably settled over them like a weighted blanket.

It was quiet besides the sounds of a crackling fire and the buzzing of crickets; the occasional ruffle of the trees when a soft breeze would dance through them. Nothing really needed to be said between each other, at least not until the next day. Everyone was still recovering from recon gone terribly wrong; still tense and jumpy at every little sound that sparked around them. This was true, but you were oblivious to the real reason why no one wanted to speak quite yet, for it was clear that the tension brewing between you and your beloved had everyone on high alert, sharing uneasy glances between each other and fiddling with leaves and knifes to distract themselves from it.

The fire hissed out smoke and ash like it was regurgitating the effects of your own anger back at you; right in the middle of you and Benny as you couldn’t sit next to him like nothing was the matter. You stared into the flames intently, absentminded and irritated. The memory of earlier that day kept replaying in your mind like some shitty movie; and you were forced to sit there, a front row seat to the unraveling of your own sanity.

Benny, being cocky like he could be, walking out onto an open road with guards standing right at the gates, thinking his own mortality was just a mere suggestion, that he could just survive a flurry of bullets aimed at his head like his life was limitless. Thankfully, all he had gotten was a bullet in the forearm before Will was gunning the guards down to save his idiotic younger brother. You were thankful he was alright, that some mystical force orchestrating your lives had not cut all his strings just yet, that they let him spend just a little more time with you. But… you couldn’t even begin to describe the pain and panic in your chest when you saw Benny fall down to the gravel, like you had just been shot your self.

You saw the way the dark red pigment of his blood poured into the gravel like his very life force was swimming away from him, the way his face twisted in pain and the way he crumbled to the ground. It was like your whole existence and being had been frozen in time, your body going numb and your mind going blank as your whole life flashed before it like a taunting joke. Your heart stopped beating and your mouth went dry as all you could do was watch from your position in the tree line, your ear piece buzzing with four panicked voices at once like muddled chatter.

It was the worst feeling you had ever experienced, and ever since you couldn’t get rid of that sick feeling in your stomach that made goosebumps rise on your arms, or swallow away the dryness in the back of your throat.

Even then, even if you could’ve recovered from the incident, Benny himself couldn’t admit that what he did was wrong, especially not to you. He didn’t even acknowledge the fact that he could’ve died, left you all alone with nothing but the ghost of his memory. After he had patched up his arm, he bounced right back like nothing had gone wrong in the first place. He didn’t reassure you, hug and kiss you and make all your worries go away like he was supposed to. You weren’t sure he remembered you were even there, camouflaged in the brush way up in the trees, unable to leave your post and possibly ruin the mission even further. You were forced to wallow in your own terror, unable to speak and unable to breath, scope shaky from your trembling hands.

And then, and then, the boys found themselves laughing about it just a little while after, on the trek back to the campsite, once Ben was better and too riled up with adrenaline and excitement to consider your feelings. It was almost like they were mocking your worry from where you lingered behind them; you knew they weren’t but you couldn’t see it any other way. You didn’t find it funny, you didn’t even understand how Benny could just brush it off like he didn’t just almost ruin both your lives forever. How could he be smiling like he didn’t just stomp on your soul and rub it in the dirt? How could he be laughing like his own arrogance and stupidity was the funniest thing in the world?

You had been distant ever since, sitting in this one spot and avoiding anyone who tried to talk to you. Benny had even tried to, sensing your bad mood and wanting to fix it. But his concern had come far too late, and you didn’t feel like entertaining him and his ego. So you brushed him off just as he did you, giving him a curt just leave me alone that had his skin going cold like someone had poured a bucket of water over his head. The boys could sense your vexation as well, and even they weren’t sure what had soured your mood so much but they knew better than to pry. They gave you your space, even set your sleeping bag out for you when you isolated yourself at the bonfire with that steely frown on your face.

That had been four hours ago, in the orange glow of the sunset when even the sun couldn’t stand Benny’s indifference any longer. Now, it was late at night, stars twinkling in the dark sky and the full moon staring down at them, witness to your depression. The group was surrounded in darkness and trees only illuminated by the soft glow of the fire, tense and tired as their muscles melted down and their guards softened, sleep weighing down on their heavy eyelids. Gnats buzzed around the fire light and even buzzed past your ears, but you weren’t tired, just frozen.

Benny Miller had been in a confused slump over that time, gradually getting more and more frustrated the longer you refused to talk to him, or fuck, even look at him. There was nothing worse in this world to him than your sorrow, and usually he was the one coddling you and kissing your tears away, rocking you in his arms and protecting you from anything that could’ve hurt you. Shit, even when you were mad at him at least you acknowledged him, screamed at him, called him an inconsiderate asshole and anything else you’d say just to hurt him. But this, this he had never seen.

You weren’t yelling, staring at him with bloodshot eyes and red cheeks, rocking in his strong arms or crying on his shoulder. You were just there, a couple feet in front of him that felt like miles away, thinking about something that had you stressing yourself out and had you pissed off at him along with it. It was the not knowing that irritated him the most; you weren’t talking to him about it to try and fix it, just soaking in it like a hot bath until you were drowning in the idea of it, whatever it was. You weren’t letting him save you, comfort you, hold you and make it all better like you usually do. You were just a cruel statue, and he couldn’t stand it, racking his brain for what he could’ve possibly done in the span of five hours to have you hate him completely… and there was nothing. He had absolutely no clue, and it made him want to punch the ground and take his anger out on something.

But all he could do was stare and hope it bothered you enough to look at him, maybe even tell him to stop. But you were too enraptured in your own mind to give him the time of day, and it made him feel sad and angry and sick to his stomach that you were this mad at him. He felt guilt and regret bubbling in his gut for something he wasn’t sure he even did, and he wanted so badly to vomit out all the apologies and sorry’s you wanted to hear, anything to have you be with him again and make all these bad feelings disappear. But he had a sneaky suspicion that all of his inner turmoil was just some spiteful part of your punishment for him, a consequence you intended from the start.

His mind was just circling and circling, jumping from conclusion to conclusion, replaying the days events over and over and over like he’d find a missing clue to his crime the longer he searched. But it was nothing… nothing, nothing, nothing, and he couldn’t fucking stand it.

You could see the dark outline of Benny’s legs peeking through the flames, and you found yourself staring at his calf’s before you could stop yourself. You forced your eyes to not look further up despite wanting to, knowing it was best. You did love Benny, you loved him a lot, so much so that even if you were mad at him you still subconsciously yearned for him; it was a deeper part of your mind reserved solely for Ben Miller that had been programmed to love every bad part of him ever since you met him. It was sending shocks throughout your body and pulses in your brain, wanted so badly to look at his face, run your hands through his blonde hair and kiss his chapped lips. It made your skin feel cold without his arms around you, your lips tingle at the memory of connecting with his. And it was that love for him that always made you break so much sooner than you wanted to.

But not this time. This wasn’t one of your normal arguments when Benny would forget to text you, forget what you needed from the store, or eat all the food in the fridge without asking. This was life or death and he had just tiptoed his way into the latter, and you weren’t going to break this time, cry and hug and say you’re sorry. You needed space, you needed to think and try and gather some strength back so you could talk to Benny in the morning. You weren’t going to let this slip, let him off the hook like he didn’t almost die and then forget to tell you about it.

You were going to be strong and you were going to let him suffer just as you have suffered.

You turned your head to Pope who was sitting next to you, his legs outstretched in front him and his hands in his lap, fiddling with a stick like it was the most perplex thing in the world. He had some blood stained on his green cargo pants and gray t-shirt, and you couldn’t believe you didn’t notice it before. You swallowed at the sight of it, an anxious feeling sparking up in your chest like a flare until you managed to look up at Pope’s face instead.

“Hey, Pope?” You mumbled quietly, not wanting to speak too loud and scare away the calm.

Pope was almost startled by the sound of your gentle voice, lost in his own head as he thought over battle strategy as always. He turned to you, curious with what you had to say since you hadn’t spoken in quite some time.

He hummed in response, a soft look lurking in the shadow of his brown eyes as he looked at you, not wanting to set you off any further.

“You guys can go ahead and sleep, y’know. I’m gonna go down by the lake and try to wash all this dirt off me. I look a mess.” You gestured down to the dirt matted on your clothes with a small smile, trying to joke with him so he knew you weren’t angry with him or the other guys.

You had seen the lake when you had set up camp the day before, walking around the perimeter as a safety precaution. Right now it seemed like the perfect escape, away from Benny, away from the light, and away from the temptation. You could feel your resolve crumbling, the pull in your gut was taut like a rope wrapped around both your waists, begging you to get up and plop yourself in Benny’s lap like you always would. He was pulling you closer and closer with every long minute that dragged by whether he knew it or not, and you knew the longer you stayed around Benny the quicker it would fall, and you’d be right back in his arms like you were the who did something wrong. You couldn’t let that happen, you just couldn’t. If Benny wanted to talk to you he would have to come up to you, apologize to you for being the stupidest man on the planet and almost giving you a heart attack.

Until then, you just needed some alone time.

Pope nodded his head, eyes flickering around your face and the way you half-assed a smile. He could see the frazzled look in your eyes though, and despite not wanting anyone to drift off from the group he could see the faint desperation on your face; he knew you needed some space.

“Okay, that sounds good. Take a knife or something with you, just in case. And if something happens—“

“I know. I’ll scream as loud as I can like I’m not a trained military soldier with skills of her own.” You interrupted with a playful roll of your eyes, already pushing off the ground and standing up on your own two feet. You felt your limbs pop from being locked in for four hours straight; the stretch felt good on your sore thighs and arms. Everyone looked at you as you stood, disturbed by the noise. Even Frank, whose eyes had been closed under the rim of his cap, in a soft sleep against a tree, looked up at you, moving his hat out of the way.

Benny couldn’t help the hope that piqued in his heart, thinking this was finally the moment he was waiting for. He stared up at you, his eyes running over your frizzy hair, noting the dirt on your hands and neck but still an Angel bathed in the golden light to him. He was expecting a confrontation at least, or even a look cast his way that he would knew what it meant. But nothing, you just walked towards the tree line like he was nothing but a ghost in the forest, haunting the camp fire with his lamentation.

“Where do you think you’re goin’, young lady?” Frank asked in a playful stern tone, making you crack a small smile at him.

You turned your back to look at him, “I’m going for a swim. Don’t wait up.”

You turned back around and stepped over Pope’s legs, the sight of blood in your peripheral, heading in the direction of the lake with twigs and leaves crunching under your boots.

“Ay, be careful, hermana.” Frank pointed at you in warning, but you just waved a hand in the air in acknowledgment before putting them in your jacket pockets, walking further into the night and staring at the ground as you went, the frown back just as quick as it left.

Benny sank down once more, staring after you like a lost little puppy with some bite behind his bark. He grind his teeth with a small scoff at your behavior, looking away from your back as it disappeared into the darkness, away from the light and away from his eyesight. His chest felt sore like it had just been stomped on, taking heavy breaths to calm himself down as he settled back against a tree, taking a hand out of his pocket and adjusting his hat on his head like a comforting reflex.

Will shared a look with the other two, smacking a knife against his palm from where his elbows rest on his arched knees. They all wanted to say something but knew it was in their best interest not to, especially when it came to butting into Benny’s relationships like they knew better or something. At least, that’s how Benny always took it.

Will shared a knowing look with Pope and Frank, who got the message.

“We’re gonna head off to bed, alright guys? Don’t stay up too late. Remember we have to be up before Gomez if we want things going smoothly this time.” Pope, always the levelheaded leader, gave Benny and Will a pointed look once he got off the dirt, putting his hands in his pants pockets. His dark hair was dusty with dirt, blood from Bennys wound dried on his shirt and pants.

Benny just nodded his head once, not listening to a word.

Frank got off the ground as well, glancing at Benny sympathetically as he adjusted his cap on his head just as Benny did.

“That means no more shootouts, eh?” Frank grinned, making a jab at Benny as he slapped Pope on the shoulder with a light shove. Benny saw as he walked past Pope and to the direction of the sleeping bags just a few feet away, annoyed with the sound of laughter because all he wanted to do was sulk in his misery.

Pope chuckled at that, turning back to the pair of brothers.

“Besides that, it was good work today. We got a lot on shit on Gomez and tomorrow’s gonna be the day we get his ass. For real this time.”

“Yeah… I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Santi.” Will exhaled, looking up at Pope with a tired expression, bags under his eyes and blonde hair a ruffled mess. He slapped the blade against his palm once more, feeling pessimistic from the mishap that happened earlier today and not having much confidence in Popes plans for tomorrow. Shit never went according to plan with them, should’ve learned that from the last time.

Pope just nodded at that with an understanding expression, knowing that was a conversation best left unopened. He looked back up at Will, “Get some sleep. The both of you.”

He turned with a lingering look to Will, then glanced at Benny before fully turning around. He started towards the sleeping bags where Frank was already passed out with his hat over his eyes, giving Will and Ben the space they needed to have whatever discussion they needed to have, always unable to show vulnerability around anyone but themselves.

A few beats of silence passed besides the crackling of the dimming fire, Benny anticipating whatever advice Will obviously had for him. He wasn’t clueless, knew Pope and Frank only left so him and Will could have some sort of heart to heart and so that Will could share his perspicacious advice and wisdom. Honestly, Ben wasn’t even sure he wanted to hear it. There was no advice for a man who didn’t even know to use it, especially one it would hold no real value to. Besides, Benny really didn’t want hear his brothers advice on relationships.

Benny glanced at his brother, who just stared into the fire with a dull gaze.

“So what? Gonna give me some relationship advice now? You’re a little late, bud.” Benny grumbled with that southern accent of his you loved so much, the flames flickering in the cool warmth of his eyes as he leaned back against the bumpy tree trunk with a heavy sigh.

Will cracked a small smile at that, shaking his head as he looked to his left at his stone faced brother.

“Nah, man. Nothin’ I say is gonna make it any better.” Will mumbled, turning his head to look at the empty darkness in the trees where you had disappeared into, licking his chapped lips.

“But whatever you did, bro, she’s pissed. You gotta handle that.” Will exhaled, looking back at the side of Ben’s face where sweat had beaded alongside his hairline.

Benny side eyed his brother as Will patted his shoulder encouragingly, getting up with a tired grunt and putting the knife in his pocket.

Benny looked up at him, his skin hot from the fire and his heart beating steadily in his ears. He gave a stubborn shrug of his shoulder in response, an ache shooting down his left arm at the movement.

“She can be pissed all she want. I ain’t runnin’ after her every time there’s a stick up her ass.” Benny said stubbornly; but even he knew that was bullshit. Benny would follow you anywhere and has, for reasons less than this. He just couldn’t help but think you were being completely unreasonable about the whole situation; expecting him to chase you down like a dog, kneel at your feet and beg for your royal pardon and make him atone for his sins. But it pissed him off even more because he would, if that’s what it took to hear your voice again, to be able to look into your eyes again and feel your hands on his. He’d kiss your shoes and lick the dirt off of them in that’s what it took, beg for your hand and never stop spewing apologies. All you had to do was ask.

But no, you just treated him like he was the worst person you’d ever met, avoided him like he was a parasite leaching off your love and he couldn’t fucking stand it. He was more than that, you were more than that. Your anger chipped away at his pride like a brick hammer second by second, and he hated that sick feeling twisting in his gut that made him feel lightheaded.

And Will knew it just as much Benny did, which is why he couldn’t help but smirk knowingly at that, looking back at his brother with a cocky little smile that rubbed Ben the wrong way.

“Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Ben stared at his brothers back as he walked away into the shadow, Will’s words lingering in his head because he knew his brother, especially him, wouldn’t believe Benny’s bull shit if he handed it to him.

Benny rolled his tongue on the inside of his cheek and clenched his jaw, looking back down at the fire as his neck tensed with irritation. He didn’t want to be the one to reconcile things, too stubborn and prideful and ignorant to his own error. He was still pissed at you for reasons unknown, one part of him frustrated with your silence but the other part aching to reach out to you despite his own bull-headedness. He hoped you’d appear from the tree line and curl up next to him with an apology on your lips, wrap your arms around him and lay your head on his shoulder and fix his broken world. But no, he knew that wouldn’t happen from his spot glued to the dirty ground, alone by the camp fire spitting out ash like it was yelling at him.

He knew what he had to do, just wished he hadn’t.

The lake was beautiful, bathed in the silver light of the moon with the stars reflecting in the black water like a kaleidoscope of gems. They stared back up at you, twinkling in your eyes and you couldn’t help but be in awe of it.

It was a large clearing inside the valley of a mountain, hidden away like it’s beauty was almost too much for Mother Earth to find. You couldn’t see how far back it went, only the black tree line that blurred with the edge of the water quite a ways away from the shoreline you stood at. The water was calm and still, so different from your racing heart and shaky hands. It was cooler here, cooler in the dark as the gentle breeze swept through your cheeks and tingled your neck.

The air smelt of lavender and dirt, earthy and natural, and you inhaled a big breath through your nose as the scent calmed you. Purple flowers littered the shoreline, tall and vibrant with stones hidden along the outskirts. You could hear the buzz of crickets in the tall grass, see the bright yellow dots floating along the air like the fireflies were beckoning you into the water.

It had been beautiful when you discovered it a day prior, when the sun was shining down on the blue water and the trees reflected in the horizon, birds dancing in the sky. But, here, now, nightfall was a whole different experience entirely. You felt like you had been pulled straight into movie with the way a light sheet of mist covered the ground and overlapped your boots, cascading along the surface of the lake.

You sighed happily, a smile making its way onto your face as you realized this was exactly what you had needed. The stress in your body began to fade as your skin thrummed, eager to finally go in the water and feel it’s soothing waves wash over you, wash over your mind and clear the muddled thoughts of Ben Miller from the crevices of your brain. He haunted your thoughts too often, had burrowed himself inside your heart and mind like a virus.

Your skin felt itchy and hot from the humidity of the forest as you quietly walked to the edge of the water, not even a soft wave crashing into your boots as you stared down at your murky reflection through the mist, the croak of frog sounding from somewhere around you.

Your hair was frizzy, tied back in a loose bun that morning that had fallen apart during the day, dirt and sweat smeared across your cheeks and neck and your lips cracked and dry. Your eyes were dull and your lips were pulled into a frown, a faint scratch on your collarbone from when a branch had nipped you. You were only joking when you said it, but you looked a mess.

You frowned even harder at that, disappointed with your appearance and how manic you looked, all because of a person who had all this power over you without even knowing.

You took a step back at the thought, not seeing the point in wasting anymore time as you managed to find a seat on a rock and slip off your combat boots. Your body was sore for some reason, and upon taking off your socks and standing up to take off your thick black pants, you noticed the faint yellow color of bruises dusted along your thighs and knees. You knew they had to have been from you being stationed on a tree top for hours, staring out your scope with it pointed right at Gomez, just in case he did anything you didn’t like; having to stay perfectly still.

Gomez, yet another crime boss in the middle of a lawless jungle terrorizing innocent people. You and your team had been tracking him for a while, even had one failed bust way back when. But tomorrow, tomorrow you were going to finally take him down after a long three day reconnaissance mission. But now, now you were here, standing in front of this beautiful lake with your clothes in a pile next to you. You didn’t have the time to think about tomorrow because then you couldn’t focus on the now.

The soft wind felt so good on your bare skin, running through your hair you had let down and caressing your flesh with a gentle hand. For the first time that day you felt content, bathed in the glow of the moonlight as it shined down on your naked form, littered with dirt and cuts and sweat.

You tried hard to push Benny into the back of your mind as you took gentle steps towards the water, leaving your negative thoughts in the dirt. As you reached the shoreline, skin dotted with goosebumps, you tentatively dipping your foot in as a chill swept through your skin at the cold sensation. The cold against the hotness of your skin felt like a much needed smack to your nervous system.

You took a calming breath, ignoring the sting of the cold water as you walked further into the black lagoon, your legs and thighs and hips being enveloped by the mist and welcomed in by the still waters, until you were waist deep and your toes were digging into the gray sand underneath the water. A shiver prickled your sweaty skin as a tickling sensation ran up your spine.

You felt weightless, floating in air as your muscles relaxed like melting candle wax, the water swishing around your arms in soft waves as you softly moved them around you, feeling the lightness slip through your fingers. You closed your eyes, basking in the coolness of the water as a peaceful silence buzzed in your ears. The breeze ran through you and chilled you to the bone, but the cold felt nice against your buzzing skin, gave you something to think about other than Benny.

You walked a little further in until the tops of your breasts were floating in the water, the anxiety you had melting away as you dipped your head back in the water, letting the droplets slide down your forehead as you lifted your head back up. You couldn’t help another shiver as the water poured down your back and shoulders, trickling back into the lake. You felt cleaner already, could almost feel the sweat and dirt on your skin evaporating as the memory of that day washed away into the lake.

However, as you stared at the water around you, you couldn’t help the longing that pulled at your heart at the thought of sharing this experience with the one person you wanted so badly; have his strong arms wrapped around as you splashed in the water, stare at the moon nestled between two mountain peaks with your head on his shoulder and love swelling in your chests.

You could feel yourself frowning again at the thought, your eyes beginning to blur with tears as your emotions finally overwhelmed you. The thought of him dying, actually leaving you alone, ash in a vase… it had your stomach in knots as hot tears starting running down your cheeks.

You brought a hand out of the water and wiped away the tears falling, the droplets splattering into the water with the action. You couldn’t help but feel silly for crying over something that didn’t happen, but you couldn’t even fathom the thought of Benny dying, and all the stress from that day had finally dawned on you in the moment you had no more distractions from it. Your chest burned and your nose was starting to become sniffly, lips trembling as you brought a hand to your mouth to muffle the sob that shook your shoulders.

You closed your eyes and tried to take a calming breath, eyelashes wet against your cheeks as you felt tears slipping down your neck. You loved him so much, put his life higher than yours and cherished him more than he knew. But he was so fucking reckless, always trying to one-up Will or prove himself to his friends like he needed to prove to them he belonged. Even in those underground fights of his you’d always be anxious when he’d come back home with a broken nose or busted lip, standing on the sidelines and flinching every time he got knocked down. His pain brought you pain, and you just wished he’d realize that, take precautions, just be fucking careful.

You sniffled some more as your tears died down, hugging yourself as you opened your eyes again and stared at the moon, praying to whoever was up there they could watch over your boy, please please please let him be okay.

You felt the water moving behind you all of sudden, your body stiffening in high alert as the small waves smacked into your back. You turned your head ever so slightly, listening for anything.

Then, you heard the deep breath of someone a couple feet behind you, exhaustive and oh so familiar. Your chest almost burst, stomach falling at the realization of who it was.

“Can you look at me, please?”

Your eyes widened at the soft voice of Ben Miller behind you, gentle like he was trying not to scare away a baby deer, but still scratchy from his deep voice and accent. You couldn’t believe he had followed you out here, cornered you in the water like you were one of his boxing mates, leaving you no where to go but to him.

Your eyes flickered around the water like the waves held the answers you seek, hoping they’d pull you under the surface and bury you in the ground until you were hidden from his sight completely.

You sniffled as quietly as you could, subtly wiping away the last of your tears to gain your composure back, thankful the lake made it look like water cascading down your cheeks. You didn’t want Ben to know you’d been crying, knowing it would only make him feel bad and make him less prone to take you seriously.

You angled your head so he could hear you clearly, but you didn’t dare turn around even if your heart beat faster at hearing his so close behind.

“Please just go away, Benny. I don’t wanna talk to you right now.” You said quietly into the air, knowing your voice would crack if you spoke any louder. The buzzing of crickets chirped around you, the light fog slowly moving past your shoulders. You could feel your eyes stinging again at the presence of him, your arms wrapped around your chest to comfort yourself as another breeze had your skin prickling. You tried hard not to cry, a lump in your throat that you couldn’t swallow away.

Benny clenched his jaw at that, not wanting to lose his temper with you as the sweet sound of your voice he’d barely heard all day washed over him and made his skin tingle. He was only a few feet from you, staring into your wet hair despite wanting to come closer, not wanting you to run away from him like you did the last time he approached you. The water was cold, up to his stomach from the height difference between you, but if this is what it was going to take to get your attention.

His heart fluttered for you, yearned to wrap around you, his stomach in knots at the sound of your scratchy voice. He knew that voice, knew it all too well and knew you better than you thought. His hands itched to bring you into his chest, wrap his arms around you and shield you from the cold, surround you in his love and concern and finally let himself breath again. His lungs felt muffled, like water was clogging his chest and filling in the space there.

He clenched his hand, itching to touch you.

“Will you just stop that shit, already? Why are you crying?” Benny had to stop himself from scoffing at that; fuck no he wasn’t going to leave. He took a small step forward, furrowing his brows at you as the cool air chilled his bare skin.

You clenched your jaw, feeling that tense feeling in your bones as you suddenly felt too overwhelmed at the situation. You planned for this conversation in the morning, not right now in the middle of the night, in the middle of a lake, in the middle of no where.

“I wasn’t crying.” You sniffled again, tone firmer, but even you heard the crack in your voice that couldn’t convince anybody that that was the truth. You stared at the water, the weightless, joyous feeling you experienced earlier replaced with a dull sorrow… it made the water feel bland and the buzz under your skin turn to fuel for your annoyance. But… you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction at the fact Benny had actually managed to approach you. Usually, you were the one having to initiate things, so this was a surprising reprieve.

Benny knew that was an obvious lie, fist clenched as the urge to walk up to you had his arms twitching.

“Come on, don’t lie to me. Can you just turn around, please? I’m fucking begging you here…” Benny sounded borderline desperate, still keeping his voice low as he stared at you in desperation, heart jumping when he saw the slightest movement from you. He really couldn’t fucking stand this, teetering on the edge of confusion and unfamiliarity. He didn’t know what to say, what to do, how to make you feel better. He felt useless and horrible, just standing there while you obviously cried.

You swallowed thickly, eyes closing in consideration of his plea as another tear managed to fall down your cheek. Benny always knew how to get to you, he really did. It pained you to hear him be so distraught, that your body instinctively tired to turn around and run to him, kiss his cheek and meld into his chest like a vine growing from a root.

You opened your eyes, bright from the moon, then tentatively turned around in the water with your arms crossed over your chest. He couldn’t really see anything anyways. The sound of the water swishing around you sounded dreamy, if only it wasn’t given during the situation.

Benny’s eyes were stuck to you, frantically running over all the skin he could see to make sure you were alright. Your hair was slick down your back, water falling from your shoulders and cascading down the smoothness of your skin. You’re eyes were pink and veiny, cheeks puffy and lips a darker red. He frowned at the idea of you crying, almost reaching out to you but catching himself.

He sighed heavily, “oh, honey…”

You gazed up at him, eyes running over his bare chest, chiseled with muscle and the occasional scar, then to his strong jaw and greasy blonde hair messily slicked back on his head. Your eyes had lingered on the white bandage wrapped his left forearm from the where bullet had shattered his skin there, and you felt your stomach jump and legs go weak. Benjamin looked at you like you were fragile glass, eyes dark and worrying, brows furrowed and lips downturned. The moonlight shined down on him like he was a diamond, bright and tantalizing, and you hated how gorgeous he looked when you were still a little pissed at him.

At the sound of his pitiful voice you felt your eyes burn again, lips frowning as you tried hard not to cry at the very sight of him and that stupid wound, another wave of sadness crashing through you as your chest swelled up and your eyes went blurry. You missed him, had missed his touch, missed his voice, missed his slicked back hair. You couldn’t imagine feeling like this for the rest of your life, which was almost a very real reality.

It was almost like a dam had broke within you as your emotions crashed through you once again, your hand flying to your mouth as a sob wracked through your body and tears rushed down your cheeks.

Benny felt his own flood of emotions as he quickly went towards you, water splashing around you both as he scooped you into his arms and held you tight against him, one hand on the back of your head and the other on your back. He felt your tears run down his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist and burrowed your head into his heart, the warmth of him comforting the entirety of you. You held onto him tight as he murmured words of comfort into your hair, hand rubbing the expanse of your back soothingly.

“Shh, sweetheart, shh. It’s okay, baby. Just breathe for me…” His deep voice rumbled against you, a low and comforting thrum that managed to calm your hiccuping breaths, the sound of his beating heart and the vibration of his voice against you like medicine for your soul.

You took slow deep breaths in, adjusting your head so your cheek laid on his chest and you could feel the cool breeze on your warm face. Your eyes were still closed, sore from crying as you sniffled some more. You tightened your hold around Benny, unable to stop yourself from acting out on the giddy feelings he gave you, like his bear hugs alone made flowers blossom in your chest and made your lungs feel like they would burst into daisies.

Benny squeezed you back despite the sharp ache in his arm, laying his chin on your head as he felt your breaths stop shuddering, whispering the occasional shh as he resumed rubbing the skin on your back like he was petting velvet. He felt sick to his stomach that you were in so much distress, heart beating quickly as worry kept pumping out of every artery.

He didn’t want to confront you yet; not even giving a damn to if you were in this much pain about it. He just held you and you let him, feeling refreshed and warm and like you were coming back home after a long vacation from it.

The water trickled around you melodically, and the sound of it felt nice against your pounding ears. A few beats of comforting silence passed as bugs chirped and wind whistled before you found your voice again.

“Please don’t die…”

Benny heard your scratchy voice croak out something tiredly, your breath hitting his tan skin. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking down at you.

“What’chu say, baby?” He asked, feeling yourself curl into him tighter than you were before, snuggling your head into his chest. He let you, arms still tight around you.

You sniffled some more, opening your eyes and staring out at the water as words just left your mouth before you could think.

“Earlier today… you got shot. You could’ve died and you didn’t even care and what was I supposed to do—“

Benny could feel your shoulders start to shake again, feeling more confused than ever as he interrupted your oncoming sobs, shhing you and rubbing your back some more just as you liked.

“Hey, it’s okay, honey. It’s alright now, shhh.” He had a confused look on his face as he thought about your words; thinking about earlier when he got shot, thinking about how you started acting funny after that, thinking about how much of a god damn idiot he was for not realizing it before. He clenched his jaw and shook his head at himself, holding you tighter against him like you’d fall out from under him if he didn’t. He was so fucking stupid, his chest wringing in pain at the thought of what he had done.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby… you know that ain’t never gonna happen.” He mumbled, voice thick with remorse.

You cried softly a little while longer, until your throat ached and your eyes swelled. You took a hand and shakily wiped away your snot and tears, almost humiliated with yourself that this interaction had gone exactly like you didn’t want it to.

You found yourself calming down again though, really this time, as you picked your head up from under Benny and took your arms out from around him. Your bare breasts were smushed up against him, but this wasn’t a situation where either one of you needed to acknowledge it, far worse things lingering on both your minds.

Benny let you separate from him, his arms dropping down to your waist as he stared down at you curiously. He felt terrible for what had happened, knowing now why you acted the way you did. At times, Benny forgets his life is just as meaningful to other people like it was to him, forgets that he has someone who cares for his well-being and someone who loves him fully. He wasn’t used to being the priority all the time, hence he always carried this reckless attitude with him because if he died, at least it was only him who would. He didn’t even think about seeing if you were okay after it happened, assuming he was okay and that meant you were too. He felt like he had just crushed the world in his hands on behalf of your pain, genuine guilt swirling in his tummy as his sad eyes ran over your tear-ridden face.

You sniffled some more as you leaned back to look at him, your eyes flickering to his arm at the bandage he wasn’t supposed to get wet. You felt lighter again after crying it all out, like the blanket had been pulled off you and you were ready to get out of bed. You knew he felt guilty, seeing it dawn on his eyes as he looked you, felt in his hands glued to your waist like the water was going to carry you away.

You took your hands out of the water and brought them up to cradle Benny’s face, the water sliding down his neck and chest and making his skin shudder from the coolness of it.

“You were stupid. You could’ve died, thank god you didn’t but what if you had? I would be alone, you would’ve left me alone. I can’t be without you. You can’t ever die on me, Benjamin, I mean it.” Your voice was soft with urgency, staring into his eyes and making him look down at you as you spoke. He could hear the pain behind every word and closed his eyes to calm himself down, wanting to hug you again and soak up all your pain for himself if he held you tight enough. He hung onto your every word, taking a small step closer to you as the consequence of what’d he done stared into his face.

“You have to be more careful, even if you think you don’t have to be. You have to be careful for yourself, for me, for us, for the guys. You have no idea how scary it was seeing you fall to the ground like that and not being able to run over and make sure you were okay. I felt like… I felt like the whole world had just caved in on me and-and… just don’t ever do that shit again, okay?” You gently squeezed his cheeks for emphasis, your voice raw from all the crying you’d done. You looked deep into his eyes, flickering between the two, before you felt his hands come out of the water and cradle your face, his hands much bigger on your cheeks that they covered your jaw.

He brought himself to you, your hands slipping down to his chest as he looked down at you with a somber expression.

“Hey, hey, you listen to me. I will never leave you, woman. I’ll always come back to you, when have I never? Don’t you know after 2 years that you got me already? I couldn’t die if I wanted, you fucking own me. If I died and left that behind I’d be the stupidest motherfucker I’ve ever met.” His accent bled into your skin like sweet honey, thick with emotion but still trying to make you smile for him. You could hear the earnestness in his soft tone as he stared down at you with those fierce blue eyes of his, bright and dark and full of love.

You felt relief at his words, melting against him with tired limbs. You were glad you had gotten that off your chest, feeling reassured. Benny got even closer to you, his head just above yours that you had to look up at him to see him.

“I’m sorry, baby. You know that, right? I love you. Man, I love you so fucking much…” He rasped out, gently squeezing your cheeks underneath his warm palms as he spoke, his hot breath hitting your nose as you felt your heart flutter like a petal in the breeze; happy and weightless, bound by nothing but love and direction.

You felt another tear fall down your cheek, a small smile stretching across your pink lips as you picked your hands up and wrapped them around Benny’s neck, bringing him down until his forehead touched yours. You couldn’t describe the happiness you felt at that, his big hands sliding down your wet skin to wrap around your waist again, pressing you against his naked body with ease.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry for being such a bitch.” You laughed gently, the sound twinkling in Benny’s ears as a smile cracked on his own lips.

He had his eyes closed against you, nose bumping yours as the feel of your warmth surrounded him. He could feel a familiar spark stirring in his belly as you breathed against him, bare chest against his and your arms around his neck.

“I love you…” He murmured huskily, giving your nose a small peck, then your cheek, until his head was resting in the crook of your neck, rocking you against him slowly as the pair of you stood in the lake in a romantic embrace.

You couldn’t help but smile widely at that, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter until you were so close to him neither one of you could tell where his heart started and yours ended, interlocked as one.

It was silent for a while besides the sounds of nature and trees around you, the water still once more as neither one of you wanted to move away, content in each others arms, skin on skin and heart to heart as your face was laid on his broad shoulder, eyes closed as you pet the nape of his neck.

Feeling him against you after so long without him felt bizarre and needed, your nerves on high alert as your skin purred. You felt happy again after a long day of not feeling anything, and you couldn’t be more grateful that Benny was here with you, in your arms and holding you like you did him. Of course, there was always that possibility that one day he wouldn’t be, but for now you were satisfied with what you had, happy with the outcome of the now as you stroked the back of his neck and latched onto him. The combination of his breath against your cold neck and his fingertips doodling on the small of your back had your body tingling pleasurably, both of you sensing the heavy shift in the air.

You squeezed Benny a little harder, breasts pressing into him as your lips brushed against his neck, his hands digging into your flesh as he inhaled heavily. You felt electricity spark in the air as the two of started to get antsy, hands itching to explore more of each others skin and feel the energy thrive under your fingertips.

His hands squeezed your hips under the water as you slowly moved your hand down to his shoulder, igniting a trail of goosebumps that sent a pleasurable spark straight down to Benny’s cock. He swallowed thickly, breathing heavier against you in soft pants.

You both could feel the excited thrumming of your hearts in your chests, hands eager to touch as they moved from your hips to your waist, from his neck to his shoulders. The air felt hot and humid as you breathed each others air, skin buzzing and tingling with unforeseen desire.

Benny gulped, licking his lips as he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you out off the water slightly as he pressed his lips into your ear. You inhaled sharply at the sensation, burrowing your cheek into his as he spoke, your breath just has heavy his as it brushed past his ear.

“You want it?” He breathed against you hot and heavy, the feel of his semi-hard cock rocking into your hip as your pussy tightened around nothing, slick with want underneath the water and begging to be filled by him already.

Your hands explored his chest and arms hungrily, nodding your head with a simple, “mm-hmm.” Unable to speak words as the thought of his hard body against yours had your mind fogging with salacious need.

He clenched his jaw at that, sliding his arms down your body until they slipped under the water, gripping your thighs and easily wrapping them around his narrow waist. You tightened your legs around him, a hand coming up to clench onto his hair as he brought a hand up to lay flat against your stomach. The water splashed around you at the motion, but Benny didn’t care about the cold droplets splashing onto his warm skin as he brought his lips to your ear again.

You bit your lip, eyes closed in ecstasy from his skin on yours alone, your bare pussy rubbing up against his happy trail just beneath his belly button, his cock running up against your inner thigh, taunting your wet hole like it knew it belonged there. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, your thighs tense as your clit throbbed almost painfully, sending distress signals to the rest of your sensitive body.

“You want my cock inside you, baby? Hmm?” He rubbed his nose on your neck, hand sliding up your stomach until it was grabbing your right tit, pushing it and massaging it like it was cookie dough in his big hand. He always loved playing with your tits, mesmerized by the softness of it.

You gasped softly at the sensation, your body highly sensitive as your lower regions basically ached for him, your clit pulsing as it rubbed against his stomach with every little movement. You instinctively took your hand out from around his neck, your hand sliding to cover his much bigger one that molded your right breast, encouraging him to squeeze it harder as pleasure jolted through your stomach at the sting of it.

Benny loved the weight of your breast in his hand, picking his head up and looking at your face right next to his. You had your eyes closed and lips parted slightly, gripping onto him like he was your lifeline. He felt hot and needy, feeling your pussy lips rub right above his thick cock, your legs tight around him as you clenched around nothing, craving him just as much as he craved you.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” He rasped out with that fucking accent of his, eyes heavy with want as he breathed hotly against your cheek, watching for every little movement of pleasure that crossed your face and enjoying being the cause of it. You let out another small whimper, and he felt it run through his skin like a current. He always got off on the pleasure he gave you, and the fact that he was barely doing anything to you yet just showed how needy you were for him, just as he was for you.

You dumbly nodded your head, lost in the feeling of him as you held on tightly to the back of his hand, almost guiding the motion of it as he rubbed your breast in circles.

“Hold on a sec…” He muttered huskily, putting his hand back down to hold your thigh against him. You could’ve pouted at the loss of him, stuck in a daze already, feeling the water swish around you as he turned his body around with you attached to it, walking forward until you felt a hard, cold sensation dig into the expanse of your back.

Your eyes opened groggily as you breathed heavily, tightening your thighs around Ben’s waist and pushing his cock harder against you in desperation.

You could only assume he had leveraged you between himself and one of the rocks along the water, feeling the wet cold of it poking into your skin and making you shiver. Your arms ran over his broad chest, water sliding down his skin and back into its origin as you leaned back against the rock to look at him fully, staring up at him with those pretty eyes that were practically begging him to do something to you.

He was big and tall, all muscle and man as he looked down at you with hungry blue eyes and a heaving chest, cast in the moons shadow as water softly dropped from the ends of his blonde hair onto his shoulders. The silver mist circled around you both as the wind whistled between you, the trees rustling above you. He was so handsome and pretty, so everything and most definitely all yours. You could feel another jolt of excitement shoot through your nerves like a wildfire at the sight of him, tracing your fingertips against his warm skin.

Benny looked down at your provocative eyes, dark with lust as your thighs pushed him further into you like a magnet to its match, his hands going above your head and trapping you between his forearms as he braced himself on the rock and leaned down towards you, smelling grass and lavender on your skin.

Your hands slid up to his shoulders as you were shroud in the darkness of his shadow, his head covering the view of the moon as he leaned down towards you with a predatory gaze.

“You love me?” He said against your lips when your eyes began to close at the erotica of it all, eager to feel his lips on you, his tongue on yours, his thick cock buried deep inside you. Your pussy couldn’t help but want the same thing, throbbing almost sufferingly in longing for the stretch of him. You almost whined against him at the feeling, frustrated and desperate to feel something, your impatience always such a nuisance.

“You know I do, Benny…” You whispered back as he stared down at your mouth when you spoke, your hands gliding up to his shoulders as he licked his lips.

He felt satisfaction tingle down his spine at the want in your voice, cracked and needy just as he liked it. Your hands gripped at him as your thighs squeezed around his hips, trying to push him harder against you. He brought a hand down from the rock, wrapping it around your jaw and forcing you to look up at him.

You didn’t fight it, enjoying his dominance a little more than you’d admit, feeling any fight you might’ve had in you dwindle into nothing as you looked up at him with slanted eyes and parted lips, bewitching him even further as he glanced down at your parted mouth.

“You my girl?” He hummed against you, his hooded eyes looking over your face as he made you look at him, fingers digging into your cheeks. His voice was low and gravelly with a dash of a southerners charm, making your pussy pulse fervently for something, anything. Benny’s accent always had this hold over you, especially when he sounded like that. Your skin crawled with arousal, nodding your head once more to appease him as the need to satisfy him overcame your need for words.

He smirked at that, taking a step closer to you as he finally leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, adjusting your head for you and turning it upwards towards him. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as your eyes closed, your hands flying up to his hair and pulling at the golden strands. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, knowing his was too.

He groaned hotly into your mouth at the sharp sting in his head. sucking your tongue between his lips as you let out another whimper. He took his hand off from your jaw and slid it down your body, his rough hand grazing over your perked nipple and making you jolt against him. You felt him smile a little at that, his hand continuing down but making sure to feel every pore and inch of your skin as it did.

You found yourself following his lips when he would move a little too far back for your liking, your hands pushing his head down into yours as you breathed in his air, his mouth hot and wet against yours as your tongue played with his, not caring for decorum as you moaned against him once more. The kiss was messy and hot, all swollen lips and tongue like they’d been separated for a millennia, reacquainting with one an other as a small trail of spit slid down your chin. Benny and you both liked it that way, aroused by the depravity of it all.

He slid his hand under the water, his knuckles grazing your inner thigh as his fingers eagerly found the space between your thighs, your lips slick and smooth as he pushed two of his fingers through until they were enveloped in the warm slick of you, moving in and out of your hole as you stuttered against his lips with a shaky gasp. He wished he could hear that familiar squelch he would if you were on his bed, legs spread and soaking his sheets.

For now, this would have to do as the water smacked around his moving arm, your head thrown back against the hardness of the rock from the much needed intrusion as you cried into the air louder than necessary. Your nails scratched down to his shoulders, toes curling behind his back as your body arched up into him. Your body felt weightless and heavy all at once, stuck between a rock and a hard place as you gasped for air, the drawl of his long fingers inside of your most sensitive place sending pleasurable sparks throughout your body.

Benny didn’t stop to stare at you like he usually would, too pent up and horny that he just kept moving his lips down to your wet neck when you separated form him, tasting salt as he licked the droplets off your skin. He wanted no space between the two of you, wanted you against him and wanted to taste your skin, gone far too long without that luxury. As he fucked his fingers into you, knowing you could really only fit two, he felt your soft walls clamp around his knuckles as he stroked every ridge he felt with his fingertips, memorizing each one he counted as he sucked into your skin.

“Oh, fuck… Benny…” You whined as he took his other hand and gripped your breast, licking down your collarbone and arching down, putting your hard nipple into his warm mouth and licking it with his tongue. One hand was on the rock as the other was in his hair again, holding his head against your tit as he sucked on it, his eyes closed as he massaged the piece of skin where his mouth didn’t reach. He moaned against it, loving the taste of you against him, his teeth nibbling into your areola as you gasped at the sting of it.

His fingers stayed as deep as they could go inside of you, never quite pulling out before Benny would thrust them back in, pushing into your upper wall and pressing down on that one spot that had your limbs stiffening and your eyes welling up with tears. You felt so good, feeling your whole body light up like a firefly from the pleasure he gave you, ringing through your body and pulsing at your core. It almost hurt feeling so good, the small groans Ben let out as he sucked on your nipple doing nothing but making it worse for you.

You couldn’t stop the moans that rang out from your mouth, shrill and never ending because of the overstimulation of pleasure Benny was giving you, from your sore nipple his hot tongue played with to your throbbing pussy gradually reaching its climax. It was a wonderful combination you hadn’t expected to ruin you so quickly. But there you were, whining like a bitch as your hands clutched his hair, eliciting another deep groan from Benny that had your whole right side shaking with painful elation.

You felt his rough fingers slide in and out of you, coaxing you to cum as your toes curled behind his back and your eyes blurred with tears. Your pelvis felt so tight, bunched up in a knot the longer Benny stroked your insides like he was writing a message on your walls only he would know.

“Ohhh, Benny… feels so good, please, please, please… aghhhh…” You gasped out as your stomach tightened even more, his fingers moving quicker inside you in response to your high pitched pleas. He could feel his own pleasure from you stirring his cock even harder, the sound of your moans and breathy gasps making his spine tingle and his balls tighten. He just wished he had you in his bed, where he could see your cream ring around his fingers and cock as they slammed into your gaping hole over and over and over until you begged him to slow down.

He picked his head back up from your bruised nipple, bringing his lips to your ear in a hot whisper, “Come on, baby, cum for me. Cum on my fingers, pretty girl, come on…”

Just as soon as he said that you felt that knot in your stomach snap like a cord, your mouth flying open in a silent scream as your eyes closed, thighs tensing as wetness gushed out of your hole and all over his hand, blending into the water around you.

You breathed heavily from the throbbing in your lower half, your muscles melting against Benny like warm syrup. He kissed your cheek softly, lovingly, giving you a minute to calm down from your high as he gently pulled his fingers out from you and brought his hand to your side, massaging the skin there. He cuddled his head into your neck, his chest against yours as a nice breeze blew around you; it felt refreshing against your hot skin as your vagina throbbed and your thighs trembled in the after shock of your orgasm.

You loosely wrapped your arms around Ben as you breathed heavily, your heart pounding in your ears. You enjoyed having him against you, comforted by his closeness instead of overwhelmed by it, holding him close as you caught your breath. Your cheeks were hot and your thighs tense still, but you could still feel Benny’s hard dick poking into you under the water, and you wished so badly to see it like you had many times before, see the pink head swollen with need as precum beaded out of the tip, then you’d lick it up as it drizzled down to his heavy balls. You felt another wave of arousal quickly stir in your tummy again at the imagery, tightening your hold on him.

“You okay, honey? You ready for me now?” He spoke softly into your ear, caressing your sides as he waited for your consent. He was so painfully hard; seeing you get so riled up was always all he needed.

Your throat was dry as you swallowed, thighs tightening around him to beckon him forward. He didn’t fight it, falling right into you and clenching his jaw at the feeling of your pussy rubbing up against the base of his strong cock.

“Just fuck me already…” You mewled, wet and clenching all over again at the muscle memory of how good he felt inside you.

Benny didn’t even answer, reaching down and grabbing himself from under the water. He was hot and heavy in his hand, guiding himself to your entrance and pushing past the stickiness of your folds. He clenched his jaw and groaned at the feeling of his tip prodding at your tight entrance, eager to push in and slam into your warmth, give you both what you’ve been yearning for.

You gripped his shoulders as you felt his thickness push into you, a sharp cry ringing out at the stretch of him. Benny bit into your neck, muscles flexing as he picked his arm back up from the water once he was inside you, moaning quietly at the feel of your tight wet walls squeezing around him.

“Fuck…” He groaned into your skin, pulling back out despite your walls squeezing him in, then sliding back inside as an attempt to loosen you up a little more for him.

“Oh my god…” You breathed out wistfully, tremors of indescribable pleasure coursing through you at the feel of his cock moving inside of you, back and forth inside of your tight hole that cried for him. You stared into the sky absentmindedly, unable to breath as he rocked a little harder inside you, one hand next to your head to stabilize himself against the rock and the other gripping your forearm as he hid his head inside your neck, panting against you.

He soon developed a rhythm, the water smacking into your skin as his hips went back and forth, his cock bullying it’s way inside your dripping cunt as he mumbled obscenities into your ear. He was lost in his own pleasure, slamming into your soaked pussy as his balls slapped against your ass.

“Fuck, baby. I’d never leave you… could never leave this good pussy…” He grunted into your ear, his lips brushing against it as you basically sobbed from the intensity of his girth slamming in and out of your hungry pussy. Your arms clutched around him as you jolted against the rock from the force of his hips slamming into you, moans cracked from every movement that had your lungs shaking.

You moaned and cried, shrill and unashamed into the night as he fucked you, fucked you against a rock with his grunts and groans hot against your skin. You felt so beyond good and filled, your pussy clenching around him like it wanted to keep him inside your forever, which you know you did. He was so big, so long, his balls slapping into your ass and that vein that ran along the underside of his cock rubbing against your walls.

Your tits bounced against him as he pushed into you, angling his hips to hit that spot inside of you that had you keening for him.

“Fuck, Benny… you feel so good, baby…” You whined in his ear as he brought his hands down and gripped your thighs, pushing you hard against the rock so he could really pound into you, the waves smacking in between your stomachs.

“Yeah? My cock feel that good, baby?” He teased, biting the skin of your neck as you let out a sharp whine, throwing your head back at a particularly hard thrust that had your thighs tensing and toes curling in on themselves. You almost went cross-eyed, staring into the stars as you felt your orgasm approaching once more, your skin buzzing and your throat so so dry as you gasped for breath. All you could do was breath in Benny’s scent and air, and it intoxicated you, made you clench around him harder.

“Yessss, It feels… feels so good…” You babbled as he pressed your thighs up a little higher, feeling his balls tightening the more you clenched around the length of him. His skin felt hot, cut up from your nails as you scratched at him, blonde hair a ruffled mess. He still couldn’t quite grasp the situation, how quickly things seemed to have unfolded between you. He was just glad it was over, but the sharp pain in his arm was a dull reminder of his truth; that he had fucked up but now he was making up for it. He really couldn’t even think, moaning into your neck as pleasure sparked down his spine like fireworks, his stomach tightening as he knew he only had a short while left before he’d bust inside you.

“I’m gonna-gonna cum inside that pussy, baby. You want that don’t you? Yeah, fuck, I know you fucking do…” He grunted into your ear, pulling all the way out until the tip of him was at the edge of your entrance, then slamming back in until he was buried to the hilt. You almost screamed at that, moaning so loud you swore birds flew from a tree in the distance. You were always able to take all of him, from his tip down to the base until he was balls deep inside your sweet pussy he loved so much. There was no fucking way he was ever going to leave this pussy, not today, not tomorrow, not until someone tore him away if they even could.

“Yes, yes, I want it, please, please, please…” You pleaded desperately, knowing it wasn’t long before you’d cum all over him once again. He groaned against you, big hands digging into the plush of your thighs as he quickened his pace, brows furrowed as he concentrated on getting you both to the place you needed so badly to be.

Then, with no warning, you suddenly felt the dam in your tummy break as your orgasm flooded around Benny’s cock from where he was nestled deep inside you, releasing a long moan as your back arched into his and your sore nipple rubbed against his skin. You panted, feeling spent and completely overstimulated as your thighs twitched and body slumped against him.

He came with a hot groan a short moment after, encouraged by the tightness your pussy gave him as you creamed around his length for the second time that night. His cum shot up into you and it made you hiss at the tingle it gave your sensitive legs.

He fell limp against you, breathing hard as he rested his sweaty head on your shoulder, the water lukewarm against your pruned skin as you held him against you, petting his hair as your thighs dropped down lower on his waist. You both could feel exhaustion taking over, but at the same time you both needed to just feel each other once again.

A few peaceful moments passed after your orgasms while the pair of you caught your breaths, racing hearts dying down to a calming thrum as the cold evening air cooled down your hot skin. Your thighs felt sore and achey, back probably bruised from the sharp corners of the rock you’d rubbed against. The space between your legs still throbbed, and when Benny slowly slipped out of you you couldn’t help but feel empty from the lack of him, frowning at the uncomfortable feeling running through your core that missed the feel of him.

You could hear the buzzing of flies and the chirp of crickets ring through the air, the moon bright and daunting in the sky as you stared up at it. You gently smiled as Benny gave your neck a tender kiss, stroking his back as he settled his hands on your waist once more.

You held onto him tight as he cleared his throat, his eyes heavy and his body satisfied and spent. His arm ached like a motherfucker, a thin patch of pink peeking through the soaked bandage but he didn’t care. If anything, every time he would look at the scar there he would always think about this moment, how beautiful you looked in the moonlight, remember your moans and the way you felt around him, remember that there was someone out there who really loved him like he deserved. He was grateful for you, loved you more than you knew. He couldn’t believe that you ever thought different.

You sighed blissfully, gently reminding Benny that the two of you needed to head back, not wanting him to feel rushed. He just nodded, but didn’t let go of you, still hugging you to him like you were the ghost of someone he once loved. You didn’t complain, just hugged him back because you needed this just as much as he did, needed to feel his heart beat against yours and feel his breath wash over your shoulder. You smiled at that, closing your eyes and resting your head against his shoulder as he did you, feeling content as another cool breeze wrapped around your molded forms.

You shivered against him, but he just held you tighter, his heart swarming with his love for you as he vowed to never worry you like that again.

thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. and always remember that you’re loved and important <3

#˖⁺. 𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙖 .𖥔 ݁#benny miller x reader #benny miller #will miller x reader #will miller #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #frank morales x reader #frank morales

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imperiuswrecked · 6 months

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I’m so sorry to ask you to do this, but you seem to have a relatively big platform on here. If you’re comfortable doing so, please urge your followers to research the Ben Gurion Canal Project. It is a canal that would connect the Red Sea to the Mediterranean and would be a 3rd longer than the Suez Canal, it’s one of the reasons why the US and the rest of the west is so adamant on eradicating Palestinians.

This is a map of Egypt, Sinai Peninsula, and Palestine. What is happening right now is the mass genocide of the Palestinian people in the Gaza strip and other mass murders in the West Bank. Israel wants to push all the men, women, and children they didn't murder from Gaza into the Sinai Peninsula which is a desert. They want complete control of Gaza, look at how small Gaza is, look at how small. There have been the equivalent of Hiroshima levels of bombs dropped into a place that is barely a few miles long. Palestine is NOT BIG, and Gaza isn't a country it's a part of Palestine, its a city.

I posting these to show the difference, I won't post all the gore and death pictures of the victims, people can look that up for themselves.

Gaza houses millions of Palestinians, many of whom are refuges from the 1948 Nakba, where their homes and lands in the north, south, and center of Palestine were destroyed or stolen by Israeli Settlers. Despite that they have a beautiful city, they built their lives there, through all the wars Israel waged on the Palestinian people they built beauty. This isn't the first time Gaza is being bombed. Gaza has been an open air concentration camp for 16 years, the people inside cannot leave, no one who isn't cleared by the Israeli Military can enter. They have cut off the people of Gaza from the rest of the world for years. No amount of peaceful protest by the people of Palestine asking Israel to take down the wall, to let them have rights, to let them return to their homes, to visit any other part of their country has worked. They murdered the peaceful protestors. This time though they don't want to just make war on Palestine, or drop the annual bombs, they want to eradicate the people of Palestine in Gaza. They are leveling this place to rubble. They have bombed grocery stories, schools, bakeries, universities, churches, mosques, hospitals, cancer centers, more hospitals, they have murdered over 10,000 people in one month, UN workers, Doctors, Journalists, civilians, babies, children, women, men, the elderly, the queers, the Christians, the Muslims, everyone, even the Israeli hostages they keep screaming about, 60 of them have been murdered by Israel themselves. Every form of life they can find they kill. They have cut off all aid. They have cut off all water. They have cut off or destroyed any sources of food. Even before this they have ships in the sea to stop fishermen from fishing too far out. They saw the starving people of Gaza fishing for food in this ongoing massacre, they bombed the boats. This is a genocide. They have been very open about how this is a genocide, there is no confusion here this is the deliberate genocide of the Palestinians. Israel has the support of America. Israel and America will not do a ceasefire. This is very deliberate. Why? The land is so small, they already have almost all of the other land, so why? Besides hating all Palestinians, besides that, why?

Gaza has oil/gas, the resource belongs to the Palestinian people. Israel has already made contracts for companies to come mine the resources. They don't have that right. It belongs to Gaza. Palestine has been slowly suffocating under the Israeli Occupation for 75 years, no human rights, no way for the economy to make money, no self determination, olive trees are burned, farmers land have been stolen, Israel pushes their own products for sale, everything is controlled by Israel. This resource would have brought in money to the Palestinian Economy, it could have lead to more jobs for people. They wouldn't have to rely on trying to get work visas to work in the occupied territories.

But the biggest reason? The Ben Gurion Canal Project.

We all know the Suez Canal, how could anyone on tumblr forget the Ever Given and the Suez Canal?

The Suez Canal brings in over 9 million dollars yearly to Egypt. Egypt controls the canal. Western Powers, America, UK, etc. don't like that. Israel wants to cut Palestine, they want to tear into its earth, they want to rip a scar down Palestine to make Ben Gurion Canal. If they did this, then they would control the canal, and all those millions of dollars would go right back to Israel and America and their allies. All that money made from the blood of innocent people. Built on the destruction of stolen land. Paid for with the lives of Palestinians. This is why Israel is will not stop murdering people. This is why America gave them the green light to murder as much people as they want. This is why they do not care about the history, bombed old historical buildings like the 3rd oldest church in the history of the world. This is why they do not care about a single Palestinian life.

It's not about religion, it's not about "arab terrorism", it's not about any of the lies that they tell. This is about leveling Gaza to dust so they can build their canal and bring more death and more control over neighboring countries and controlling resources in the middle east.

If you want to learn more about Palestine then follow @palipunk who has great resources, there are lots of books, and information out there just ready to teach people about who we are and why we fight so hard to survive. We deserve to live free on our land. Don't just listen to lies the Western and Israeli media tells everyone, do your own research and share if you all can.

Palestine is small. It's a country that wants to be free, from the British, from America, from Israel. Palestine has been fighting for so long to be free, all the people want is to live on their land, to grow their olive trees, to fish in the sea, to create, to love, to be able to visit each other without walls or soldiers controlling us, to pray, to share in humanity, to be respected and seen as humans. Palestine is old and small and beautiful. Palestine is made up of so many beautiful people and religions, we have such a rich culture and history, we love to sing, we love to dance, and write poetry, and tell stories, and cook, we love to learn, did you know we have the highest literacy rate per population? We love each other, we love the world. Palestine is our hearts, they are killing our hearts.

#imp answers #palestine #history #current events #sorry I got carried away but its been very emotional for me these past weeks

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suzannahnatters · 4 months

Text

My final Love Like the Galaxy reaccs!!! the tl;dr: I loved it and it's the sort of show that probably demands to be seen twice because TWISTS and HINDSIGHT so IDK, one day maybe! Anyway it's either on Viki or on YouTube for anyone who wants to see what happens when Jane Austen comedy of manners meets The Count of Monte Cristo, but, like, in Ancient China, featuring an epic romance between a naive sledgehammer engineer girl and the terrifying murder general who cannot help looking utterly besotted with her every time she drifts past: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLZZZLpfFwcBprNI6msl3NWt3pdX6F-eGs And now: for the reaccs for episodes 43-56, including the famous Murder Party (TM), check under the cut!!!

If Yang Yang ends up with Smug Scholar instead of her sweet little marquis I WILL throw things (thankfully, the sweet little marquis is getting actual screentime with her)

oh I LOVE this: the Empress apologises to Consort Yue for stealing her husband, and Consort Yue points out that if it's anyone's fault it's the Emperor's, and why should the Empress apologise? it's the little things, you know?!

I love that in amongst all this scowly strategising and betrayal and people's families in mortal danger…there's a whole running joke about whether the armour Niao Niao made her beloved makes him look more like a chicken or a mandarin duck

cdramas asking the real questions

wow they really kept like 90% of the action budget for this episode and money well spent say I

once again murder general is rushing off to save our girl, only this time he guesses precisely where she is and what she's doing, and knows she's probably doing a great job of it :')

GASP we are suspicious of Elder Brother Snacks now???

I've got a bad feeling about him and the crown princess turning out to be bad eggs - almost as though we're building up to a BIG BETRAYAL between our babies

Wan QiQi swaggering into prison in a wedding dress is the energy I aspire to

Hmm… Lou Ben feels very very foreshadowy of an obsessive man making a self destructive choice to grab what he wants no matter how it hurts the woman he loves

All the foreshadowing is REALLY mounting up now - Snacks still caring about NN but not wanting to see her after what she's done, NN observing of another couple that they were birds on the same tree but flew apart when trouble came

Anyway we are all headed for a heck of a third act breakup aren't we

is zisheng,,, allergic to almonds

what an absolutely bonkers twist

poor little Wang Ling! how terrible does her family have to be that she is trying to save her murderous traitor of an elderly husband, just because he treated her better than anyone else in her life?

"he even had a flower garden planted in my courtyard to please me, although he has life-threatening asthma! which means that he can't visit me very often! he's the best husband, Niao Niao!" okay Mrs Charlotte Collins

"Cheng Shaoshang, it seems you really don't know anything about Ling Zisheng" OOOOOOHH

Smug Scholar: a voice of reason. a stickler by the rules. an indefatigable drama queen who is quite ready to beg murder general to go right ahead, be his guest, do crime, because then Smug might get to marry Niao Niao instead

torture is always wrong, revenge kids! that said, it's very funny that murder general has been busy with hot iron and boiling oil all night and found out nothing, while NN has put herself fully abreast of the situation armed with nothing more than…a conversation with a female acquaintance

"wait - all that stuff you did in my name was ALSO in pursuit of your revenge plot? who are you really?" this show keeps serving the best stuff

matching bite marks on the arm is a way cooler idea than matching tattoos tbh

why are you not telling her, zisheng, she already knows!!!

she's sworn up and down (with bitten arms!) that she won't mind, it's keeping this from her that she can't forgive, get a clue!!!!!

ooooo - we have been cordially invited to a MURDER PARTY love the gearchange from Jane Austen Romcom to Jacobean Revenge Tragedy

OK LET'S GO, WHERE'S THAT MURDER PARTY I WAS PROMISED

Glad that we were given this scene of Marquis Chengyang being delusional and Chunyu being Justly Terrified that the young man obsessed with revenge has finally agreed to come to his father's birthday party, it doesn't quite explain how nobody realises this is Very Bad News but at least lampshades it

Since filial piety is the norm in this society, I guess it's hard for the elders to realise just how at risk they are from someone unfilial!

I LOVE that Chunyu (sp? the stepmother) gets a whole speech to point out the hypocrisy of HER continually bearing the blame of "climbing into the master's bed" after so many ppl in the show have ridiculed her for it as though it wasn't a decision made by the marquis

oooooooooooohhh this is amazing: Yang Yang is disturbed that NN's farewell before the wedding sounds like she doesn't ever intend to return home. and from NN's response, she KNOWS murder general is about to do something crazy and is fully prepared to suffer the consequences alongside him

it's…really amazing that during the stretch of the cdrama when the male lead traditionally starts Machinating and Scheming and lying to the female lead about it, THIS show keeps the heroine's agency intact, she sees right through his lies, she is still front and centre. Chef's kiss.

she knows where it's happening; she knowns when it's happening; she's sending someone for news. she's amazing and so are these writers.

meanwhile: murder general refusing to enlighten the marquis as to his true identity is Irene of Athens-level pettiness and I love it

the way this show keeps this whole episode focused on the story's main character even though she has little to do with -

oh wait never mind she has decided to involve herself anyway!!! now we get the entire Cheng family charging into battle? with NN at their head on a black horse? EPIC?????

well THAT was the best of Jacobean revenge tragedy

shocked to discover that Zisheng has Always Known who was really behind the fall of the lone city - he's just been quietly, methodically working through the destruction of all the perpetrators, COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO style

I love a protagonist who holds cards so close to his chest that not even the audience knows what's going on

more than that, it really adds nuance to the show's themes about revenge. Sometimes the system is broken, & even in a good system people will sometimes get away with murder. What to do then?

I can't support the vindictiveness of the leads (& I'm not sure I'm meant to) but as revenge plots go, I like the weightiness of the themes - how to fight for yourself in a world where laws and manners tell you you shouldn't? - better than Dumas' more superficial take.

where did these two henchmen come from, because they are NOT being paid enough to be part of this absolute disaster

also WHEE Niao Niao gets to swoop in and save HIM for once! Well done our girl!

oh what an idiot. what an absolute peanut.

I was pulling for you, murder general, but I'm not sure how you'll manage to come back from doing the One Thing (abandoning her) she asked you not to do

she's still calling him by his false name T_T

something something she only ever knew him by his false name and identity not his true one

moment of silence, please, I'm experiencing an emotion

well, duh - of COURSE Third Prince is here to collect NN to go help him plead for murder general, who has obviously been quietly helping him all along. even better: we don't know if NN is just figuring this out now or has known it for months but she understands it perfectly, just like we do, the moment she sees Third Prince's face

!!! murder general has been deceiving everyone in so many other ways too???????

it's not just that he knew all along who was responsible for the lone city's fall and has just been working silently to gather evidence on them: he ALSO has been playing four dimensional speed chess with palace politics, supporting a totally different faction to the one he was supposed to be aligned with?

IT WAS HIM IN THE PAGODA ALL ALONG????

I just love the sort of character who plays certain things SO close to the chest while also being utterly open and vulnerable about certain other things. like, as long as we trust their judgement for hiding the certain things and know it's not for purposes of control. and while NN does interpret his secretiveness as control, due to her upbringing, it's also easy in hindsight to see things from zisheng's POV: he is playing not one but several high stakes political games, treading a tightrope between the prince he is supposed to be supporting versus the prince who would clearly be a better choice, and now suddenly thrown into the middle of all this is a naive and well-meaning sledgehammer fiancee who is an absolute force of nature but who is not yet quite insightful enough to see and understand where the deep waters run; she's simply driven by personal loyalty to protect her empress' son. and she keeps forcing choices on him: protect her, or serve the Third Prince? and he makes tremendous sacrifices, as with the Tiger Tally, to save both of them. so is he going to take the risk and tell her and trust in her, or is he going to keep her in the dark just about this, until the game is over (it's so close to being over) and he can be as candid about these things as he can be about everything else?

but at the same time, he was so frustrated with her for not being candid with him, for not telling him when the mean girls tried to KILL her, for lying to him about choosing to help the crown prince - he should have known better than to reproach her about this when he was doing exactly the same things to her all along.

I love that the show just doesn't support him in this. for two people who both say they want to work as a team, these two both spend an awful lot of time keeping things from each other. and it's only after going away and thinking about it that I start to see his side of the story at all, because she is so totally front-and-centred in the way the story is told.

oh wow - now she gets a whole speech and thesis statement about how just because she's a woman she shouldn't be shut out of her husband's confidence, and ends: "Ling Buyi is my most beloved person in the world. But I am still me."

I love this show so much

It's really wild that murder general, who everyone knows went on a murderous rampage to kill the entire Ling clan, goes from being condemned to death to the apple of the emperor's eye based on his surname changing

no doubt it's historically accurate and murder uncle, at least, deserved it - but for me it's just another sign of how irretrievably this system is broken, that bloodline so clearly outweighs right and wrong.

I'll be chewing over the question of whether this last-minute aversion of filial impiety ("it's ok! he was doing it to avenge his REAL father!") undermines NN's previous point about the right to filial reverence depends on a parent's conduct, or whether it's an author's saving throw to secure a HEA

"but I can never forgive him for abandoning me - he even swore it was for my sake" aha! How To Critique The Break Her Heart To Save Her Trope (Without Actually Using The Trope??????) this show didn't HAVE to hunt down and kill every bad Asian drama romance trope like this but is that stopping it? no

Empress telling NN that whatever decision she makes, she will support her in - hits like a punch because the only person who's told her this till now is murder general. On the other hand it is comforting, and underlines the themes of NN being a whole person without him, bc she still has love and support!

as an aside, I also like how the show has handled NN's terrible parents. by the end of the show, she's fought for, and won, their respect and support, & has come to understand the pressures they are under. but she will never love them the way she loves the Empress, bc they haven't earned that love. I feel this consolidates the filial piety critique.

we finally get to hear murder general's side of the story - and it's fascinating to hear him say that he failed. he did everything to bring ling yi to justice - and couldn't. the murder party was his failure.

I'm finding the murder party less problematic at this point than the Censorate beating

whoah, the empress is sailing in to admit that she spoiled her children until they were useless, so she's not upset about the crown prince being demoted? seems a rather unfortunate theme if children are only ever bad because of bad parenting

NN still taking absolutely no prisoners in the romance, though: "oh, I understand you perfectly. the problem is that you never understood ME" that's quite a burn

The Empress is now requesting to be deposed, and it's a complicated scene - is she blaming herself, or voicing regrets? I think she's regretting not fighting for herself: as she points out, her accepting a menage a trois has not spoiled Consort Yue's life so much as it has spoiled her own chance at love.

while the show has sometimes been finger-wagging, it's saved here bc she also blames the Emperor for going along with the flow, too, and tamely accepting a three-way marriage.

meanwhile at home, everyone's like "Niao Niao is so mature now!" and I'm sitting here like NO SHE'S NOT, SHE'S HAD ALL THE HAPPINESS CRUSHED OUT OF HER and…….along comes Not-Quite-So-Bad-Mum to say that precise thing, and confess to having been wrong all along???? This show just keeps hitting.

Love that NN's 3rd brother is completely on her side at this moment. he understands the assignment ("break up with murder general and send him away with a flea in his ear") and executes it with prejudice.

oh…mum has repented too late. I'm not sorry for her, but I AM sorry for the way NN chooses to spend the next forever - when there were so many things she wanted to see and do!

and now: five years' worth of mutual pining in excruciatingly aesthetic slomo, thank you

meanwhile everyone in the Cheng family is getting married? Yang Yang is getting married? Mum's warrior maid is getting married? Good for you warrior maid!

Smug Scholar, otoh, has remained UNmarried for our girl, and I actually love the choice he's presenting her - NN doesn't much care who she marries if it's a business arrangement; she just won't marry the man she loves knowing he was willing to lie to her and abandon her

is it really weird that I suddenly want to write the story about the coldly pragmatic fake marriage of convenience between NN and Smug Scholar

!!!! she IS going to get engaged to him??? murder general is going to come back from five years of picturesquely scruffy suffering to find her engaged to Smug Scholar??!?!?!!!??!

oh this will be GOOD

"thanks, but I can ride without stirrups these days" I love that this show is allowing the heroine to establish a life of her own apart from the hero - they have to be complete on their own before they can be good for each other.

and now: a break from reality for an absolutely bonkers carriage chase, which, because this is a cdrama, comes complete with one of the parties trying to extort a proposal of marriage from the person chasing them

I swear this is the third time this exact same cliff has cropped up in this show, one would think that people would know better than to gallop madly down the DEAD END CLIFF ROAD

Empress pays her last respects to the emperor: "I know that if it wasn't for Emperor Li's tyranny you would have asked nothing more than to live a simple life" LIESSSS this man requires a constant stream of drama to live, how would he have survived as a gentleman farmer?

"if you are truly filial, don't exchange your life for mine. Live well." while this show has come down in the end in favour of filial piety, I think that for the most part it keeps filial piety where it belongs: subordinate to ethics - and that's something I can get behind.

With NN decided that murder general is not the man for her and murder general determined to accept her decision, I really don't see how this will get believably sorted out in the next…3 eps. Bc she's absolutely right, he had his chance and he blew it. That said, I was really worried the show would blame her for being unreasonable, but only the recent antagonist has done that

even NN's mother is now telling him: we don't need you to perform guilt for us, we also had our chance with NN and blew it, now we can only defer to her conscience AND YOU SHOULD TOO

so, I guess we're headed for an "undeserved grace" ending, and I hope they make it a convincing one and not cheap, bc it's too late to show him doing any work to prove his repentance.

oh I love this scene: she tells him she forgives him but cannot trust him, and he without defending himself, vows to live well and take care of himself (because quietly protecting the people she cares about is the one last thing he can do for her)

and he won't ever tell her that he's been doing this because he knows it would only make her despise him more!!!

time for the bad family to apologise, the grandmother in particular for trying to control her children, and Niao Niao to decide no longer to carry resentment, but to dwell on the people who love her instead

I love that the themes have largely to do with resisting control, even when it's from family members, and fighting for yourself. Even more, I love that the highest expression of this theme comes in the trust there's supposed to be between husband and wife. Sometimes, lack of communication IS an attempt at control - although on thinking it over I'm not sure it always has been that on murder general's side. but if there's one thing the past five years must have taught him, it's that he's going to have to be be particularly open with this particular woman, because her family HAS tried so hard to be controlling in the past, and she can't take even the appearance of it from him.

somehow, yet another of NN's old enemies has an overly complicated plan to kill her sigh

loving how murder general jumps into this trap and promptly becomes useless and it's time for the lil henchmen to save the day

stop shouting his name and figure out how to open the trapdoors Niao Niao, smoke inhalation is no joke

murder general looks amazing for someone who was just blown up

TEARFUL RECONCILIATION SCENE

ahaha Snacks has fallen in love with his wife, we love to see it

Smug Scholar, meanwhile (exact words): are you all done flaunting your love?

EXPLODING PICKLES

flailing I love it NN is deploying her secret weapon….the family Cheng

"you can't be in two places at once, General!"

maybe not, but wifey and he can

"i'd like to see who interferes with my best granddaughter's marriage!"

*smash cut to the emperor having a hissyfit because he can't interfere with the marriage *

it's over? pokes couch cushions for spare episodes

OK I LOVED that murder general's grand gesture in the final ep comes in the form of a dilemma. should he go rescue his beloved as everyone is telling him - or should he stay on task, submit to everyone's ridicule for not protecting his woman, and risk her thinking he's abandoned her again?

his answer shows that at last, he has come to truly understand her (five years after she told him he'd never understood her). it's not physical abandonment she truly fears. what she fears is not being trusted & allowed to act as his equal. So he leaves her to protect Guo village while he stays on HIS task. His grand gesture, after so many rescues, is not to rescue her at all.

SCREAMING at that moment when Third Prince is like, seriously, mate, you'd better not abandon her! she needs help!!! go on I'll be fine!! and Zisheng VISIBLY WAVERS and then pulls himself together and shouts GUO VILLAGE HAS NIAO NIAO! GUO VILLAGE WILL BE FINE!!!

since the root of the contention between them was always him not treating her as an equal, this is probably the best proof of change we could get in the screentime. and the show is very insistent to tell us that if NN bends to take him back, it's because it's what SHE wants, not bc she can't survive without him.

the show does give her that moment of fright during the explosion to rush her past her abandonment issues, but since the real issue was always about control, I can make my peace with it. Similarly, she taught him a 5-year lesson about not consulting her. He knows - & her family makes it explicit - that he can never pull something like this again.

final overall thoughts: I have rarely seen such a well done romance in Asian drama, especially cdrama. The show was long & got repetitive, especially in the 2nd half, even though it had some of my favourite stretches as NN starts fighting for respect & equality within her marriage.

The themes about family, state, and fighting for oneself got fingerwaggy at a lot of points, many side characters were brutally humiliated and many of the numerous female characters became nonsensically villainous just to give NN antagonists. So, I would say the show is quite flawed.

that said, what this show does well, it does SO WELL. I was absolutely invested in this romance to an extent that is very rare for me. I was delighted by the way the show critiques asian romance tropes, there's a wonderful Dumas-level revenge plot, the fight scenes while rare are terrific, the show remains laser focused on its female protagonist all the way to the end, and if you are not delighted by the utterly besotted looks murder general serves up five times per episode, I don't know what to do with you.

#love like the galaxy #lltg #ling buyi #cheng shaoshang #cdrama #asian drama

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shoyoist · 2 years

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Hi rekhaaa! I was wondering on what are the Tokyo revengers boys' quirks r gonna be if they're in mha!! Any thoughts??

𝐓𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒' 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀

been a long time since i got over my bnha phase but this shows that i'd enjoy giving tr characters quirks and writing spin offs for them LMAO — not proofread, but i had a lot of fun thinking of these <3 (i did say my inbox is closed for reqs) but if you sent me individual characters that i havent done, i'll answer w/ quirks for them too!! short hcs are fun hehe

ぞ | hmmm, TAKEMICHI would have the ability to see glimpses of the near future. if he were the protag of bnha, his story would be that he wasted the potential of his extremely useful quirk by choosing to live a plain, ordinary life without aspiring to become a hero. then something absolutely terrible happens, but he gets the opportunity to turn things around for himself and for everyone else, if he goes back in time and claims the rank of top hero and saves the world. op music starts playing and takemichi starts his hero's journey ☆☆☆

ぞ | MIKEY would have the ability to put people to sleep. not just sleep, actually, his quirk enables him to turn people's systems off and render them comatose. if we're talking side effects, he's just sleepy ♡♡ and falls asleep real quick when he gets tired. he's quiet, a little shady but also very sweet, and whether as a hero or a villain, he'd be super powerful and useful <33

ぞ | i'll do DRAKEN a favour and let him have his motorcycle body. he's a cyborg. like genos from one punch man !! he has to get his prosthetic limbs removed and maintained regularly, and needs oil changes LMAO. imagine being the mechanic that takes care of him though <33 or the scientist that creates new body parts and weapons for him.

ぞ | BAJI is like Four Arms from Ben 10 SKHFHKH, he's big and muscley and has four arms. the perfect person to turn to, when you need a good sukuna cosplay. by the time he graduates hero school, he stands at 6'10" ♡♡ and so popular with everyone. holds fan events and meets, is super fun and friendly, good with kids — and he never turns down those calls asking for help bec a cat got stuck in a tree and needs saving LMAO

ぞ | ok ok KAZUTORA would have blood iron manipulation. realistically, your blood doesnt have THAT much iron so this is leaning towards the fictional side — but yeah, he can control your blood (maybe the flow of it out of your body, after a slash?) via the iron in your blood cells. he would be a hero turned villain <33

ぞ | MITSUYA definitely works in the rescue division. he has restoration abilities. i'm not calling it regeneration because it doesnt work on living creatures or people. it works on non living formations and structures, like stone and all. he's one of the front liners of the rescue teams. they locate people trapped under fallen buildings and such, and then mitsuya carefully restores walls and pillars, fixes cracks in the ground, and creates a safe path to reach the people from. he's also really pretty, a good leader, and skilled at providing guidance and reassurance, so everyone has a lil crush on him <33

ぞ | PAH-CHIN would have super strength. he's a lil like sakura from naruto (are there other sakuras? bec i dont know lol) and he would work in rescue, too, but in the opposite way that mitsuya does, i guess. he breaks down obstructing structures like walls and rubble, and paves way towards the people in need of saving.

ok that's takemichi + the toman ot6 but let me think of some more.

ぞ | of course KISAKI has an intelligence quirk. his ability allows him to make foolproof, precise plans that lead him straight to his goal— the catch being that they're only arranged according to his heart's desire. every step of his vision has to be followed out thoroughly to completion, to reach the end goal. however, some steps are incredibly self indulgent (step four: kill takemichi. LMAO) therefore, he's a loner at work, and more of an anti hero type. he does what he wants, how he wants, by himself. unless he met someone that was fine with doing things all his way <3

ぞ | HANMA can speak to the dead. if you come to him with enough grief and longing in your heart, for someone that's dead, he can summon their soul by channeling the power of your longing, and bring their spirit back to the edge of life for a short period of time. he would be a villain with a tragic backstory that's only revealed much later — and he works as the recruiter for his organization, by scouting people with useful quirks that have lost loved ones. "hey kid, if you do this for me and my boss, i'll let you see your sister one last time." that typa beat.

ぞ | i feel like SANZU would have some sort of energy absorption quirk. he absorbs fear. growing up, he was timid and more afraid of others than others were afraid of him, so his quirk was kept in check. however, once he joined the villains' side, he became ruthless — his gruesome murders, skilled escapes and endless number of successful heists make him his organization's beloved poster boy (which honestly only helps people to recognize and therefore fear him even more u_u).

ぞ | SENJU has a camouflage quirk. she's able to change her body to match the colours of whatever she places both her hands against — and therefore, she's part of almost every stealth mission the heroes carry out. she's leader of her division, and gets invited to a lot of workshops and expos — she's got a million fans, and the bnha universe twitter is full of senju stan accounts i just know it !!

ぞ | KOKONOI has charmspeak. it fits him really well — he's an excellent talker, silver tongued to begin with, so when he applies his quirk and slides in, he's able to coax information out of anyone he wants, and get his way no matter what the circumstances. he would've considered being a hero as a kid, but then he gets strung into a villain organization, where he decides to stay.

ぞ | if i mention koko i must mention INUI, who has a shielding ability. he's able to reflect the effect of quirks off him to some extent, giving him some level of immunity to quirk based attacks — and he uses this alongside physical shields provided to him by the hero association's weapon devs, to be both a physical and a mental shield to himself and any one he partners up with.

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infernalodie · 2 years

Text

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐞 || 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

“𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦? 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭? 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘕𝘈𝘚𝘈, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺“

Inspo: Raleigh Ritchie - Time in a Tree Billie Eilish - The 30th

Pairing: Billie Eilish x Black!Male!reader

Summary: You had a cycle of trauma in life Billie was the one left to suffer with your loss.

Warnings: Angst only and attempted suicide!

Words 1722

DN IF YOU’RE SENSITIVE TO WARNINGS ABOVE!

Billie had been stuck thinking in the closed-off space of her green room. Her brother and parents have given her space to cry her eyes out before her show. Phone open scrolling through photos of you and her from months prior. Tears wetted the screen and smeared as she mindlessly continued to swipe her thumb across.

A soft smile on her lips seeing pictures of you smiling. She hated how well you faked a smile. How good you were with hiding so much behind smiles. You were amazing at lying to her about you being okay. But she was allowed to be angry at what you did. She could be angry that you had been selfish enough to leave her as you have. A broken part of her that she never expected to meet ever again.

It’d been 16 hours since she got the news. Since she saw news outlets showing your car wrapped around a telephone pole. She could still remember when she drove past the location but never stopped because she had been able to figure it all out when she got home. Finding pictures of you and her circulating the internet with her fans making tributes to you and mourning your loss. Giving Billie their blessing’s in an attempt to ease the pain and weight off your shoulders.

But in some way, Billie had suspected this for a while. She remembers the first time she came home and found you in the bathroom, door locked with the sound heard inside.

“Y/n?” Billie’s closed fist knocked on the door, a slight urgency in her body surging in rapid flows. “Y/n, honey, can you answer me?”

Still, there was nothing. And the longer she stayed there, waiting for you to respond to her, her fears grew tenfold. So, with anxiety, she slammed her shoulder into the door. Soon enough, she burst through the door to find you sprawled out on the floor. A bottle of pills in your hand and body deathly grey.

She still remembers how her vocal cords felt after screaming your and Finneas’ name that night. Thankfully, you survived, but she had checked you into rehab. You couldn’t look her in the eyes out of shame, but she continued to tell you that she loved you. For a time, she felt her darkest thoughts grab at her, and if it wasn’t for music she might’ve not been here. So, she understood to a certain extent of what you were going through.

“I’m scared, Billie.” Your soft voice filled the vehicle that had been filled with Ben Howard, at your personal request. The girl glanced away from the open road and to you, finding you staring out the window. Sun shining brightly on your oiled chocolate skin beautifully.

Although, she could see the tears brimming in your eyes. Confirming that you had confessed your fears. She knew you hated the idea of separation as you’d dealt with it a lot of your life. But she had to remind herself that this was for your own good. That this would help you get better and allow the two of you to follow through on the plans the both of you made.

Nonetheless, she was also afraid of what might happen. She hasn’t ever been this far from you and for this long, ever. You two have been joined to the hip since childhood and only became an item two years ago. So, this was as new to her as it was to you.

“So am I.” Billie looked over at you seeing you inhale shakily and exhale, sinking into the seat. Dread spreads throughout your body.

But here she was now, thinking back on times when you were happy. Maybe even just a bit okay. Looking at videos that she would be doing something dumb and then show you lost in your thoughts. She wished she saw the signs ahead of time. Discover how you would stare into open space for unknown periods of time. Or how you would eye the bottle of liquor and just contemplate downing the entire thing.

She hates herself for not seeing the signs, but she found a large part of her blaming it on your family. How they’d abandoned you at such a young age with your aunt. Not finding strength in themselves to take up the responsibility of raising you and saving you from a tragic future. Your aunt tried her best, but the damage was already done.

Closing her phone, Billie stared at the engagement ring cuffed around her finger. Twisting the gold ring repetitively as her legs bounced constantly. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth with tears running down her cheeks. She wiped desperately, trying to not ruin her makeup, but the tears erased were only replaced with new ones.

A knock sounded at the door and Billie looked up to see Finneas. “Hey, do you still wanna do the show?”

Billie didn’t respond at first, trying to regain her bearings as she blinked rapidly. “Uh, y-yeah.” She paused for a moment, feeling that familiar sting behind her eyes as she hesitantly looked up at her brother. “Can we play one of his songs?”

Finneas felt his own eyes sting at the crack in his sister’s voice. The thing was, the O'Connell’s were like a second family for you. And with having you guys planning on getting engaged and starting a family, they were practically your family. So, Finneas had some amazing times with you creating music and just hanging around. He had been your brother for such a short time, but he wouldn’t take that time for granted.

So, you brought his sister into a hug and nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”

They stared there for a while before they both exited the green room and departed down their own paths. Billie got onto the platform that she request not launch her and instead steadily raise her before she sat down. Hearing one of the mics above her turn on, letting her know it was her brother.

The crowd was screaming in excitement, but Finneas made his way down to the front of the stage. “Guys, I need to say something really quick!” He stated, the crowd toning down to a simmering level of volume. “Yesterday night, we lost someone important to us, but most important to Billie. At 11:13 PM last night - Los Angeles time - Y/n Eilish died.”

The lift Billie sat on slowly began to lift as she listened to her brother. “Now, I’ve seen a ton of people giving us their prayers, but tonight, I’m going to need you to keep it calm tonight, alright?” He said. “But when it's time for those crazy tracks, I want you all to tear the roof off this place. This performance is for Y/n.”

In response, the crowd screamed in agreement, before growing louder with Billie finally appeared. A small forced smile on her lips as she waved. She was so used to knowing that you were either in front of the stage, watching her perform or even side stage. But knowing you weren’t there felt weird. It felt like a whole new experience to a performance she hadn’t ever tried. So, she was undeniably nervous.

“Um, I was thinking about not doing the show tonight,” she confessed into the mic as the crowd cheered, which understandably frustrated her. “Guys, can I please get some silence?”

A few moments later, the stadium was primarily quiet and she smiled. “Thank you - But I wasn’t planning on performing tonight, but I knew my fiance would’ve wanted me to. So, if you see me cry, just ignore me.” Looking back at her brother, he nodded. “But Y/n had been making an album after he got out of rehab and we were given the rights of the music after his passing, so we’re going to play a song of his in tribute.”

There was the twinkling of distorted keys from a piano and even the faintest sound of birds that filled the air. “I guess rules are there to break. But I make mistakes like they were handed on a plate.”

For a long time and likely even now, Billie thinks you’d still blame yourself for your parents not being there. It was a cruel punishment you had placed on yourself that Billie tried to help you relieve. But whatever she tried to do, nothing worked. You had been swallowed by this guilt to the point that it was practically impossible for her to pull you out. And after listening to the song - and the entire album - she thinks a lot of it was about your past and your present. But the shining problem being your depression and parents.

“When I try to leave sometimes, I'm standing in the way I'm on the edge of crying all the time, ‘cause I can't human right.” Billie tried to put on a smile, and hide the tears. But hearing your voice project through the speakers, broke her down. Causing her to sing along tearfully, choking on sobs.

“I've seen things that I never should have seen. Said too many things I didn't mean. Hurt myself too many times to count. I need to let it out, and just release.” The crowd was filled with phone flashlights waving methodically back and forth. Billie stared out at the ocean of light with a warm feeling in her heart. Wondering if you were seeing what she was seeing up in heaven. “Been lying to myself too long. Been trying by myself too long I can't relax, I'm too distracted I can't hack it, hmm.”

A warm feeling overcomes her. Almost like a pair of arms wrapping around her and holding her comfortably. She didn’t shake it, she let it continue to envelop her as she cried. “I'm needy, greedy. Love me, feed me. Let's be a family. It'll take a village to make a man of me. So why couldn't you love me? It's all I need.”

The song soon came to a simmering level where the crowd cheered and chanted your name. Billie could only watch with a tearful look. Hoping that you were able to see that you mattered and for however long, Billie would still love you.

#billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish angst #billie eilish x male!reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #x male!reader #billie eilish x male reader #billie eilish x black!male!reader #billie eilish x black reader #billie eilish x black!reader #poc reader #x poc reader

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transgenderer · 1 year

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okay so i was reading the wikipedia article "jews as the chosen people" and there's this section, which starts with

According to the Rabbis, "Israel is of all nations the most willful or headstrong one, and the Torah was to give it the right scope and power of resistance, or else the world could not have withstood its fierceness."

which is kind of a fun post. its like rock lee and the training weights (well not really). anyway this seemed really odd so i checked the source, its bezah 25b, which is a section of the mishnah (called egg cuz thats the first word), anyway i went there and its kind of bizarre? its like, rules about what to eat but theyre mixed together with metaphors about god and the nature of the religion? its confusing and strange. the section this is from is more focused thogh:

The Gemara considers another aspect of the character of the Jewish people. It is taught in a baraitain the name of Rabbi Meir: For what reason was the Torah given to the Jewish people? It is because they are impudent, and Torah study will weaken and humble them. A Sage of the school of Rabbi Yishmael taught the following with regard to the verse: “From His right hand went a fiery law for them” (Deuteronomy 33:2); The Holy One, Blessed be He, said: Based on their nature and character, these people, the Jews, are fit to be given a fiery law, a hard and scorching faith. Some say a different version of this baraita: The ways and nature of these people, the Jews, are like fire, as, were it not for the fact that the Torah was given to the Jewish people, whose study and observance restrains them, no nation or tongue could withstand them.

And this is the same as what Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish said: There are three impudent ones: The Jewish people among the nations; the dog among animals; and the rooster among birds. And some say: Also the goat among small cattle. And some say: Also the caper bush among trees.

(side note: the dog is surely one of the least impudent animals. they can be trained, almost uniquely so! maybe they used to be more impudent)

The Nation of Israel is likened to the olive. Just as this fruit yields its precious oil only after being much pressed and squeezed, so Israel's destiny is one of great oppression and hardship, in order that it may thereby give forth its illuminating wisdom.[27] Poverty is the quality most befitting Israel as the chosen people.[28] Only on account of its good works is Israel among the nations "as the lily among thorns",[29] or "as wheat among the chaff."[30][31]

other ways jewish people are like olives: mediterranean. olive skin arguably. salty. mostly water by mass

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nemo-of-house-hamartia · 2 years

Text

Word Counts: 5036

Warnings: None

SFW, Fluff

Pairing: JacobxDottie

8th May 1869,

London

“I should have never agreed to this,” Dorothea thought, pacing back and forth with nervous steps. She glanced nervously at the gargantuan bell behind her, and she gulped, feeling an uneasiness stir within her.

Of all the places in London to meet, he had suggested Big Ben.

The Clock Tower.

That was the most peculiar place to give an appointment to see a friend, if she had ever heard about any. And yet, even in the idiosyncrasy of that idea, she had found herself eager to comply with it.

When she had found his letter, hidden away in a small cavity underneath the orange tree in her mother’s greenhouse, and after she had read his proposition, she had found herself unable to contain her joy or refuse his request.

Her constant grinning hadn’t gone unnoticed by her mother and father’s ever-inquisitive gazes, but they had seemed to believe her when she had told them that they were caused by the arrival of summer and the imminent beginning of The Season.

For a moment, Dorothea took the letter out of the pocket of her own gown, and the same sweet smile that had accompanied her all the previous days appeared again. She dared to scour through the words once again, although she didn’t truly need that. She had read it so many times, that she could recite it by heart.

Dear Miss Goldilocks,

As no opportunity has presented itself at speaking to you lately alone, I venture to address you by letter, and I assure you my happiness greatly depends on the reply with which you may deign to favor me. So many days have passed since we last had the pleasure of a few moments of conversation together. May I ask for your presence on the top of Big Ben, on the evening of the 8th of May, at 11.30? I am well aware that the timing might seem peculiar, but much like our epistolary exchange, it is better if this particular encounter is to happen under the protection of the darkness. Enclosed to this message of mine, I took the liberty to send you one of your favourite flowers, a lily, like the one you had embroidered on your lapels the day we met. Wear it for me, if it pleases you. It would certainly make me happy.

Ever, Dear Goldilocks,

Your True Friend,J.F.

Dorothea felt her cheeks prickle as blood rushed to them. Even now, she could see him leaning over his desk, sleeves all rolled up, suspenders gracefully hanging from his hips, as he wrote that letter under the yellow light of an oil lamp.

She loved the way his calligraphy was so neat and round, so vastly different from her own, and yet so beautiful to behold. It had become a familiar and rather welcomed sight, after the egregious number of letters the two of them had exchanged in the past year, one she always found herself waiting for most eagerly.

All of sudden, she heard the cawing of a crow in the distance, almost a sign to come back to reality.

Once more ever since she had arrived on top of the Clock Tower, Dorothea took her timepiece out of her pocket, a refined watch of exquisite manufacture - a gift her cousin Charlie himself had made for her - and checked the time.

It was close to midnight.

Unable to stand still, she moved close to the parapet, and scoured the city beneath, hoping to see him somewhere, but failing. The few souls still awake at the time of night were as small as ants, from where she was standing.

He had given her an appointment at 11.30, but because Dorothea could never forgive herself, had she been late, she had arrived at 11 and climbed countless flights of stairs until she had reached the top, breathless but with time to spare.

But now, her disquiet was increasingly growing with each ticking of her timepiece.

Raising her eyes toward the endless vault of the sky, she soon found her stars, the familiar comfort of her own childhood in Dover, and smiled with fondness.

She had always been grateful to Byron for teaching her how to read the sky and to look up toward the vast blue, whenever she felt in doubt.

It always managed to make her feel less alone, somehow.

Unable to stand still, Dorothea moved to the other side of the tower, the one that faced the Thames.

Her eyes could see all of the city even through the haze of the nocturnal mist, and they trailed toward the borough of Lambeth, where the Asylum was.

A cold shiver ran up her spine, engulfing her whole body, a shudder so sudden she couldn’t really explain.

There was something about the whole borough that always gave her the chills.

“It must be the cold.” she thought, turning back once more, tightening her wool capelet around her shoulders, and moving once more toward the side of the tower that faced the borough of Westminster, where her house was located.

She tried to find it through the mist, but despite remembering the general direction, she couldn’t truly make out the exact position.

For a moment, Dorothea thought about what her gentle mother and kind father would think of her and her behaviour, their dutiful daughter sneaking out the house past the hour that was proper for a lady to be out, completely unchaperoned, and meeting with what her cousin Phillip would consider “a miscreant of no station good for nothing”.

Only, Jacob wasn’t a miscreant, nor he was a “good for nothing”.

He had a kindness that she had rarely experienced in those that were of higher station, a wit that he often masked with quite an impertinent yet endearing humor, and a heart as big and warm as the Sun that each day rose from the east and set in the west.

It was true, she felt the guilt for sneaking out of the house without her parents' consent; it was gnawing at her stomach.

But, she mused, as determination grew in her chest, she couldn't deny her heart's desire one day more.

Dorothea wanted to see him again. She wanted to hear his laugh, to see his twinkling eyes and his mischievous smile, to feel his solid presence close to her, like all the times they have walked together around London, in one of the city’s parks.

She bit her lip, blushing, as her thoughts flew to the way his hand would always touch the brim of his hat whenever he greeted her or the way he would adjust his hair if said hat would happen to be caught by the wind and fly away.

What she would give to be able to feel those big hands folding around hers, she thought with a sigh, as she blushed some more.

Dorothea dared to look down the parapet one more time, hoping to see any sign of him, as her anticipation started to slowly make way to barely concealed disillusionment.

“Maybe…maybe tonight it was not meant to be,” she thought to herself, wringing her hands when she saw nothing, her shoulders slumping down.

She took her timepiece again.

Only five minutes until midnight. Already twenty-five minutes past the agreed time.

She sighed, a fire of disappointment flaring up in her stomach.

Squaring her shoulders and holding her chin high, composing herself with all the dignity she was capable of, she walked toward the manhole whence she had come from, ready to go back to the safety of her home’s wall.

She felt tears pooling in her eyes, but with a quick gesture of her hand, she dried them away before they had the chance to find a way on her cheeks.

She would not allow herself to cry at something like that.

Not until she was safe and sound in the privacy of her rooms, away from prying eyes.

As she knelt to open the manhole, she heard the sound of rustling clothes and breathless pants.

Dorothea turned her face and her eyes widened when she saw a man climb over the balustrade with apparent no effort, landing with a loud thump on the floor, his face covered by a dark hood.

She barely contained the smile that erupted on her lips, relief fluttering in her chest like a bird taking flight.

She would recognize that hood everywhere.

“Mr. Frye!” she squealed, her voice a miscellany of surprise and relief. “You are finally here!”

“Sorry for the delay, Goldilocks,” he mumbled as he brushed his pants and coat. With a quick gesture of his hand, he lowered the hood of his coat and took out a foldable top hat, that he wore on the top of his dark hair. “Trouble was a-foot in the neighbourhood, and I had to take care of things. It took me longer than I wanted to,”

Dorothea felt her cheeks prickle under the beautiful smile he gave her, but her brows knitted, as her eyes carefully scoured his face, looking for possible wounds.

“Trouble in the neighbourhood? Are…are you alright? You aren’t hurt, I dare hope and pray?” she asked, forcing her trembling hand to stand by her side, even though all she wanted was to caress his cheek to make sure that he had no wound or ailments of any sort.

Jacob gave his trousers one last loud pat, raising a small cloud of dark dust that looked suspiciously like gunpowder.

“You needn’t worry, Goldilocks, I’ve never been…better,” he murmured before his breath caught in his throat once he met her eyes, silver meeting hazel.

He felt a surge of electricity coursing through his entire being as he let his gaze wander all over her figure, completely enveloped in those cumbersome gowns she always wore. It had been so long since he had last seen her, that the memory he had of her didn’t give her any justice to how comely she actually was.

For a moment, he forgot to breathe, as he dared to look at her openly, his heart in his throat throbbing with each beat of it.

He hadn’t lied.

Troubles had been brewing in Whitechapel for a good while, and he had to take care of it, lest he was to be subjected to another one of Evie’s reprimands if the situation were to get out of control.

But the truth was that his delay hadn’t been caused just by a brawl with a bunch of drunk Blighters.

He was late because he had to work up his nerves at the prospect of meeting her once again.

This time, completely alone and away from prying eyes.

It was one thing to go into the ring and fight against the brutes Topping sent against him each night; and for that, he had courage aplenty.

Meeting the woman that had been his only recurring thoughts in the last year, on the other hand, had taken another kind of courage altogether, one he wasn’t sure he possessed.

And yet, here he was, standing closer than ever to his Goldilocks and with his silver tongue having forsaken him.

Dorothea stared at him, embarrassed by that silence that had suddenly fallen upon them.

“You-you looked rather…distinguished, tonight, Mr. Frye,” she said, clearing her throat as she looked at the exquisite embroidery of his coat. Daring to be as bold as she had ever been, she brought one gloved hand toward the metallic shoulder pauldron, where the resemblance of a bird’s skull was etched in the metal. She took the gloves off, and caressed the bird with a featherlight touch, letting her fingers dance against the cool, smooth metallic surface.

Jacob looked with the corner of his eyes, and swallowed the lump in his throat, drowning the wish he had to have her fingers caress him instead.

“This pauldron is truly peculiar, but it complements your outfit and yourself, Mr. Frye, “ she murmured, taking a step closer to admire the details.

Jacob grinned at her words, opening his arms and making the scarlet cape that hang from his shoulder fly backward.

“Just a little somethin’ I found by chance close to Saint Paul,” he chuckled, tipping his hat a little higher on his brow, his eyes twinkling with that mischievous light that made Dorothea’s heart melt on the spot. “I thought it’d be appropriate for meeting you, tonight, of all nights.”

Dorothea blushed, suddenly very aware of how little the distance between the two of them was, and despite herself, she took a step back.

“How-How thoughtful of you!” she said, quickly wearing her glove once more, as she started to look around to dissipate her embarrassment. Her eyes fell on the metallic surface of the bells behind them and she froze, suddenly extremely aware of what would happen soon enough.

“We need to hurry, though,” she said, glancing nervously at the bells behind them. “ Once the bells start ringing at the stroke of the hour, we will certainly be deafened,”

Jacob crossed his arms against his chest, giving her a crooked smile, his eyes beaming with devilishness, as if he was aware of a secret she didn’t partake in.

“You don’t need to worry, Goldilocks,” he lowered her voice, winking at her. “ I took care of them.”

Dorothea stood silent for a brief second, her big eyes now glancing at him with curiosity.

“Does that mean our dear Big Ben will never sing his tune again?” she teased, now her turn to grace him with her crooked, impish smile.

“What? No!” he fumbled, blushing to the tip of his nose. “I...A friend helped me block the bells. There’ll be no chiming so long we will be here.”

“You would think the dear people of our city will take notice of the missing singing, though.”

“Oh, I think they will be able to go without it, what with them either sleeping or busying themselves in other -ahem- activities, to be sure,” he murmured back with a smile and a wink that made her blush to the tip of her nose.

At the high teas and dinners her mother always organized, she didn’t have any problem socializing and talking with her guests. People often praised her for her sensitive speech and ability in entertaining the gentleladies and gentlemen of the Ton with the greatest variety of subjects.

She smiled and then let the silence fall between the two of them once again.

She felt so embarrassed.

But what to talk about with the man whose eyes she dreamed so often? How to look at him without blushing and letting through how much she had been thinking about him? How to talk with him without letting her love transpire through each sentence, each word, each breath?

She felt all her savoir-faire abandon her, leaving behind a mere husk of awkwardness and a sense of want that she had never experienced in all her life.

“This is such a beautiful night,” she murmured, clearing her voice and approaching the balustrade of concrete, as she looked down and tried to ignore her nervousness, focusing instead on the city below them: London was so quiet at that time of night, so incredibly different from the daily ruckus that inhabited the streets. It was the first time she got to see the city after sundown, and a thrill of excitement run down her spine at the thoughts of experiencing such freedom, far away from the Master Templars always accompanying her everywhere.

She turned to look toward Jacob once more, a big grin tugging at her lips.

“So this is what it's like to be you, Mr. Frye? Free to run around London, to climb up high where only the birds dare to go? Completely unencumbered by the daily routine that instead grip our beautiful city?” She turned once again toward the city, her eyes scouring the roofs, where small puffs of smoke raised from the chimney, contributing to the mist that veiled the horizon.

“You could say that,” Jacob chuckled, casually leaning against the balustrade, closer than he had ever been to her. He felt his arm brush against hers and when he saw her leaning back against him, ever so slightly, he couldn’t help but feel butterflies in his stomach. “Although, I wouldn’t consider myself completely “unencumbered” by responsibilities, at least not as much as I’d like to. If you were to speak with my sister, she might actually suggest you give me a thesaurus to look up the meaning of the word ‘responsibility’,” he scoffed with a roll of his eyes, although a smirk appeared on his lips afterward.

Dorothea chuckled, turning to look at him.

“That’s what sisters are for, I dare presume,” she murmured with a giggle, tapping her hands against the parapet.

“You don’t have any siblings, Goldilocks?” he asked, realizing, at that moment, that he knew so little about her family.

She rarely spoke about them, even in her letters, and he always thought better than asking them directly. But he wanted to know everything about her: every single detail that made her happy or sad, every single memory she had ever held in her heart that had brought her joy or sorrow, longing or desire. She was so diametrically opposite to how he was, and yet, he couldn’t help but find himself intrigued by that young woman that always seemed so proper and reserved, and yet, each time he smiled at her, would blush as if he had given her the moon.

“I don’t,” she answered with sobriety. “I am the only child my father and mother have. But I do have two cousins that I grow up with, and that I consider like brothers, and I suspect that one of them-” she said, thinking about Phillip’s pompous, buttoned-up expression.”-would truly give your sister a run for her money, as the people say,”

“That’s somethin’ I’d love to see,” he chuckled, leaning just a little bit closer to her, moving a wayward lock of pale hair away from her fair brow. His fingers caressed her skin, barely touching, so delicate in their trail, yet Dorothea felt a jolt of electricity run through her whole being at that small contact, and once more she felt her whole chest, neck, and cheeks prickle while blood came rushing to her head. She didn’t break that contact. She would never break that contact if it meant being close to him.

“J-Judging by how easily you have climbed up here, with that sort of harpoon you have at your wrist, I imagine that it wasn’t the first time you did it,” she mumbled, trying to regain her natural composure and hoping with all her might he couldn’t see her face burning.

But despite her efforts, Jacob could see her, could feel the pull he had toward her and the one she had toward him, and that made him hopeful that the night would go as he had envisioned.

“Nor it will be the last time, I assure you, Goldilocks, if it means meeting you alone again,” he dared say.

She turned to look at him, her eyes blinking in surprise.

“So...is this the reason you asked me to come here?” she asked, as she finally found her words again.

He cleared his throat, licking his lips, as he started to feel nervous all of sudden, his heart galloping in his chest.

"A little bird has told me that today was your birthday, Goldilocks," he whispered, reaching for something in his pocket.

Curious, Dorothea looked as he frantically searched for something, until he found it and presented it to her.

When he opened his hand, he had what appeared to be a small jewelry box, exquisitely engraved and hand-painted with a couple of small robin redbreasts, fluttering from one branch of holly to the other, snow softly falling on the green, prickly leaves and brilliant red berries. They were so beautifully etched on the pale case, that Dorothea was sure she could hear them chirping.

She held her breath, bringing a hand to her cheek for the surprise.

It was beyond beautiful.

“This is magnificent,” she babbled, her lips trembling with incredulity. “May I?”

Jacob looked at her, and she saw the softest of light in his eyes, as he looked at her with a gaze that made her feel as if her skin was kissed by the warmth of the sun itself.

“It’s your birthday gift, Goldilocks, you don’t have to ask. But first,” he said, reaching for his neck. He took away a cord where a small key and a silver coin were hanging. "Allow me,"

He reached for the small box and charged it up with a few simple moves. Once he was done, he adorned the pendant around her neck. Dorothea couldn’t stop the small sigh of surprise that left her lips at that gesture.

it wasn’t a jewelry box.

It was a music box.

And the melody that came from it was something she has heard him singing already once before. Something that reminded her of the gentle dance of snowflakes on a cold winter night.

“Jacob-,” she murmured, before stopping herself in her tracks and bringing her hands to her lips. She looked up at him, her cheeks burning, crimson like two ripe apples. “F-Forgive me, Mr. Frye for my impropriety, I must have forgotten myself for a moment, I-I didn’t mean to-”

He let out a sweet chuckle, daring to move another lock of hair away from her face.

“I like it better when you call me Jacob. 'Mr. Frye',” he scoffed, smirking. “Makes me feel like my father, and the heavens forbid that I was ever to end up like him,”

“Well...Jacob,” Dorothea said, her heart thumping in her chest. She felt elated at the prospect of finally being able to utter his name aloud, a name she has whispered against her pillow so many times, before falling asleep at night. “This is the most beautiful gift I could ever hope to receive for my birthday. Thank you.”

For a moment, he stood quietly, looking at her with a catlike grin on his face.

“What is it?” she asked, returning the smile.

He looked up toward the sky and saw that the clouds had cleared. The moon was shining brightly once again.

“May I?” he asked, his lips thinning even more in an even wider grin.

Unsure of what to do, Dorothea smiled back and allowed him to take her hand in his. Her heart sped up when she felt his fingers gently caress her gloved palms, as he delicately found the tip of her gloves and let them slide away, one finger at a time, at a slow, almost sensual pace.

“We won’t be needing these any longer, for what will happen now,” he murmured, his eyes staring into hers for the entire time. “And you needn’t worry: I’ll warm you,if needed,” and before she could say anything, he made her turn and lean against his chest, as he enclosed the small hand holding the music box in his own. Realizing how delicate her hands were without their gloves, especially compared to his, he whispered against her ear. “Forgive me, I’ve rough hands,”

Dorothea sucked a small breath at his words, feeling her heart pounding so strong against her ribcage, she was sure he could feel it too. She had never been that close to a man, in her life. Never.

But oh, how many times she had dreamed of being close to him, safe and sound in his arms.

“I-I wouldn’t want them any other way,” she answered, fighting the impulse - the need -to bring his fingers to her lips and cover them in kisses, as she had wanted to do for so long.

Jacob felt his heart in his throat, his mouth dry when he felt her leaning fully against his figure, daring to be bolder than she had ever dared before. Mindful of his own strength, he wrapped an arm around her waist and kept her steady without constricting her against him, while the one hand cupping hers guided her to hold the music box just above her head, so that the moonlight would meet the small case.

“Look at the box again now, Goldilocks,” he said.

Dottie lowered her eyes and saw what Jacob meant: the moonbeam was hitting some prism inside the lock of the music box, and projected a shape on the floor.

“That’s-That’s the Ursa Minor and it’s so beautiful!” she said, holding her breath. She turned to look at his face, her eyes wide in wonder. “How did you know?”

"Well...do you remember that tea we had taken together, that one time you had called and enquire after me at Henr-Mr. Green’s Shop? You had forgotten a paper there, a poem you had written, and I…I have to admit: I read it. You were wishing for those stars so much, to touch them, to bask in their light...so, for your birthday, I thought about bringing the night sky to you, Goldilocks," he murmured, hoping that his words wouldn’t stumble. She was so close to him, closer than she had ever been before

She held her breath, her small mouth slightly agape in surprise.

"You...you remember my poem?"

He shrugged, smiling. "Maybe,"

He couldn't tell her that he had laid in bed so many nights and read it more times than he cared to remember, imagining her small hand tracing those perfect letters, thinking about her sweet face and gentle eyes as she gazed at the vault of the skies, looking for inspiration.

He couldn’t tell her that he had planned that evening ever since he had discovered when her birthday was, hoping -praying- that the weather would be merciful and the stars would be smiling upon them so that he would be able to bring to her the sky she so much yearned.

He couldn’t tell her that he had dreamed of her smile each night ever since he had finally realized that he was utterly, completely, hopelessly in love with her.

She let out a small sneeze, and Jacob couldn’t help but smile at how endearing she looked when she turned once more, with a shy smile and embarrassed as she was by that small inconvenience.

“My apologies,” she murmured with a smile. “I am afraid I am not used to the damp night air and being out for so lon-”

Before she could finish her sentence, Dorothea felt Jacob encircling both his arms around her waist and gently pulling her backward until she was completely pressed with her back against his chest, only their garments to act as barriers between them.

“I told you, Goldilocks,” he said with a low husked whisper, his lips close to her ear, thinned in a soft smile. “ I will warm you, if needed. I can’t run the risk of having you catch a cold, now, can I?”

For a brief moment, Jacob could feel the sweet, balmy perfume that came from Dorothea’s skin and couldn’t help but wonder: what was that fragrance?

He remembered sensing it even the first time they met...but now that she was in his arms, so close to him, he could feel it so distinctly.

It was her perfume. Hers.

And that proximity to her, after having thought about her for so long, gave him butterflies in his stomach: the way she looked at him, with those eyes gleaming with adoration and warmth...he couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at him like that.

Almost as if he was the Sun itself.

“Dorothea-” he murmured once more, his breath catching in his throat as he uttered her name.

“Y-yes?” she answered, her heart quickening under the intensity of those hazel eyes she loved more than anything.

“Can.. I- I mean, Would you…Am I allowed to be so bold as to give you another present for your birthday?”

“You have already been so incredibly generous with me, Jacob….What-what more could I ask but the beautiful night you have given me?” she murmured, as she turned to face him entirely.

His eyes, whose hunger he could barely conceal any longer, wandered all over her sweet face, caressing her freckle with her gaze, one by one, running from her fair brow toward her cheeks, until they found her soft lips. He couldn’t help but wonder if they were as soft as they looked.

One of his hands found its way to her cheek, now fully touching, unafraid, cradling her round face with such attentive tenderness, Dorothea felt a whole chasm opening in her stomach at that contact, so incredibly yearned.

Jacob felt his heart thundering in his ears, galloping like a wild horse on a prairie, and before he could stop himself, he brushed her lower lip with his thumb, his eyes boring straight into hers the whole time.

“We-we are committing an impropriety, Jacob…” she said, her voice a sound somewhat between a whisper and a sigh of eagerness.

He leaned closer to her until his lips were a whisper away from hers.

“You cannot even imagine how much you make me want to be improper, Dorothea,”

One heartbeat, suspended between them in a fragment of time.

The blinking of eager, desirous eyes.

A tiny, wanting breath.

And his lips found hers in a kiss that had all the yearning of a wait long endured, a desire withheld for longer than their souls were willing to wait, under the gleaming sky, with the stars as their only witnesses.

They broke their kiss only to catch their breath, as Jacob brought both hands to cradle Dorothea’s face, resting his forehead against hers, as he looked at her with adoring eyes.

“Happy Birthday, love,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against hers.”A hundred more years of happiness for you,”“May them all be as beautiful as today, Jacob, and may you always be the reason of such joy,” she giggled with the brightest smile, a moment before she felt his lips on hers again and again and again.

Soooo.

I finally managed to finish BOTH the drabbles and the artwork that goes with it, and lemme tell you, I AM EXTREMELY PROUD OF BOTH.

I honestly had in mind to write just a small drabble underneath, something maybe around 400 words or something?

I am extremely happy with how the artwork has turned out, I took my sweet time to finish this (it took me more than a month), but I really put all the details that I wanted to put there, and I had SO MUCH FUN drawing the art nouveau background, filling it with all the symbols that I have associated with Jacob and Dottie (the Lilies for Dorothea, the Star/Sun for Dottie and Jacob, and the Rook protecting the Morning Star with the six little stars that are going to be their children -this one I actually mentioned in the third chapter of my story, "In The Heat of The Moment"). I am actually so happy with how it turned out because it will be the cover for my story for Jacob and Dottie, once I am done writing it and printing it on paper for myself!

WELL, I AM THE TEXTBOOK EXAMPLE OF "YOU THOUGHT, BITCH".

Because, as usual, I ended up writing a whole one-shot. BUT I HAVE NO REGRETS.

I love Jacob and Dorothea, I love writing about them, and they are my absolute comfort. Their relationship just makes me so insanely happy!

PLUS.

Today it's the 8th May, and it's my dearest Dorothea's birthday, so I was extremely happy that I managed to finish everything today, JUST IN TIME.

Also, credit goes to Mr. Nemo for the BEAUTIFUL idea he had about the gift Jacob gave Dorothea for her birthday. He had a fabulous idea, it was truly perfect for both of them!

Anyway, I hope you will like both the artwork and the story!!!

--Nemo

#Assassin's Creed Syndicate #Jacob Frye #ac syndicate #assassin's creed #Dorothea Starrick #Jottie #CanonxOc #my oc #my art #my writing #Nemo writes #Nemo Sketches #ocfairygodmother #ocappreciation

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becauseweareoddlydrawnfriends · 1 month

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Snippet I'm working on:

Peter Parker has been unrelenting hope stripped off its naivete. He can't be, not with what he has seen. Blood stains his hands and seep past spandex. Even if he wasn't the one to hurt them, does it matter with the things he is able to do?

Between helping old ladies across the streets and rescuing cats on trees, lurk the bloodier rescues: from desperate muggers with blood on their teeth, from fires licking away at skin and smell like burnt hair, or trigger-happy bank robbers. He remembers each person he helps; he remembers each person he can’t.

When he swings over to Hell's Kitchen, he finds Daredevil's horns gleaming under the moonlight, his face, shoulders tensed as he listens to the city’s heartbeat even mid-fight. Peter thinks that Daredevil is hope's other side of the coin, not pessimism, but the chartreuse tint of jade wrapped in Catholic penance. It burns with righteous fury. He thinks of helplessness and impossibleness. When Hell freezes over? He’s the devil of Hell’s Kitchen, he will make it happen no matter how many bruises it takes.

Queens bleeds just like Hell's Kitchen, and Peter thinks the man without fear has it covered right now. As dawn drips over the city like oil, he swings over to the quiet two-bedroom apartment in Queens, following May's familiar heartbeat. He finds her sleeping on the second-hand couch, burnt meatloaf and leftover pad thai on the table, so Peter kisses her cheek and drapes a blanket over her.

"Good night, May," he whispers and then turns to the empty spot she always leaves on left side of the couch, "Good night, Uncle Ben."

Neither of them replies.

#marvel #mcu #spiderman #peter parker #matt murdock #daredevil #tw: blood #tw: violence #may parker #ao3 fanfic #fanfic snippet

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wildroseofarran · 4 months

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From the Wastes Into the Rain, Part I || Kelly, Rune, Quintane, & Pete || November, 2023

Rune: This trip was in dire need of reflection and meditation. Just his luck was normally a positive phrase in his regard. Having wandered too far in his sleep, somehow managing to cross doorways left and right, Felix Rune was startled awake by the sound of someone’s excruciating scream. Male, seemed like, and broken by the strain. The mage grabbed at his left ear, spinning towards the noise, only to see… nothing. Nothing beyond the sepia rain, sagging splintered trees, and broken cobblestone path being eaten by the crumbling nature of this dominion.

This was the Wasteland, and a waste of time. No one was ever truly here. An unmitigated realm of atrocities immortalized well before his existence. Before the existence of his mother, and a thousand generations before her. The realm was every Catholic’s nightmare. Every appalling torment and passive suffering man could fathom made its way here. Not to punish, not to dwell, but to teach. The Shadowlands were south of here. Battlegrounds lie beyond the rain. Wraiths were not interested in this place. They had an entire universe to themselves, and their own private Hells.

This was a beast in and of itself, and he must have walked here for a reason.

Rune lowered his hand from his ear. The small scars on the left side of his face warmed and his body stilled as the man screamed again.

He wasn’t real. This was just… a memory. That’s all this place was. If he kept his eyes forward, focused on just the one, the others could fade from his periphery. A woman in a chained box begging for food; a man crawling on his belly, dragging his dead and mangled feet by the sinew.

First come first serve. This man had screamed first. Must mean something.

“Ben je nog in leven?”

Rune: The stench of smoke hit his nostrils hard, but it was the stink of burning hair and flesh that slowed his pace. He tried again. Called out in his native tongue. Called out in Japanese. In hesitant Spanish.

“Are you still alive?”

Why couldn’t he find the carnage? There were memories here he didn’t want to see, and this one, the only one he wanted, he couldn’t.

The air had become hot and viscous. The Gauntlet. His hands rubbed vigorously together, warmed by primal static, he rubbed his palms against the brown gummy surface. The depth of color, the black at its core, reminded him of obsidian.

Harder and harder he rubbed. Like body heat against cold oil. Eventually, after what felt like an hour of diligence, a slit had been made just wide enough to squeeze through.

The sooner the better. He couldn’t have shimmied fast enough through the already tightening exit. This realm preferred its solitude, and couldn’t be bothered remaining open to the realm of its creation.

Autumn trees and cold grass. The threat of honest rain above and the scent of nearby hydrangeas. This wasn’t London. This... wasn’t London at all. Not where he had fallen asleep, anyway. Something in his gut told him he wasn’t anywhere in England.

But that could wait. Just five minutes. Covered in a sticky residue, having fallen out of – ah yes, a tree. Of course a tree. Just give him five minutes.

Kelly: Kelly Rose dug the heel of his hand into his hip and closed his eyes, cursing the coming rain for all he was worth. The bath he’d taken to ease the myriad aches in his body had helped but not enough.

Nothing was ever goddamn enough.

He limped into his kitchen for a bottle of water. It was darker now than it had been when he’d gotten into the bath. It was only afternoon, but the thick layer of storm clouds hanging over Edenton gave the appearance of late evening.

“Probably gonna rain all fucking night,” he sighed to himself, popping a couple of Vicodin. Just his luck.

He glanced out the window, vaguely wondering if it was dark enough for the light above his shed to have turned on, only to frown.

“What the f…”

He grabbed his cane and stepped out of the kitchen door and onto the back porch, staring at the man who had appeared in his yard.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my property?”

Rune: Despite the steam rising from his clothes, the prone man was shivering, hand hovering over his left ear, but it was all he could manage for movement. Stepping sideways to and fro through the Gauntlet was an arduous task. Exhausting despite a century of practice.

But what he had heard was English, and having the authorities called would be a pain in his ass. He had no excuse for the primal slime covering his body, and couldn't think of anything better to do than raise a shaking finger. The index, for starters.

Kelly: Kelly’s eyes narrowed as he studied the man before him, his head at an ever so slight inquisitive tilt.

Something was…off. Besides the fact that a man in a suit was in the middle of his yard, of course. There was the steam sure, and the presence of some kind of something all over him that was visible even from his distance. But there was also a scent in the air beneath the humidity that seemed at once foreign and familiar, and with it a niggling sensation that he should know what it was.

Unfortunately for the stranger, this was the wrong man to ask for patience in a situation like this.

“Are you drunk? High? How’d you get into my yard?”

Rune: With a groan and a sigh, Rune rolled onto his back, eyes forced open despite the rain. What kind of luck had him sidestepping into even more rain?

But that voice... he tried to focus his gaze.

"I'd like to be."

The stranger's face was young, but that cane added years. He didn't mind the scar. Had some of his own. He was no Verbena.

"You wouldn't believe me."

Kelly: Both the rain and a healthy sense of survival kept Kelly firmly rooted to the porch. He’d already had one experience with being caught off guard recently and he wasn’t looking for a second one.

Just because this man looked harmless laying on the dying grass and being pelted with cold rain didn’t mean he was harmless.

“Try me,” he said, eyes still narrowed in suspicion. There wasn’t any hostility in his gaze or in his voice (for now), just a heavy and palpable caution.

Rune: "Prima," the mage took a breath, tried to sit up, and managed to lean on his elbows. "I fell through that tree, I think. I was at a friend's house in London, then I was sleepwalking, and then ik - I think I heard your voice."

Let's just leave out it was the Atrocities Realm, and I think I know why you sound like a walking pack of cigarettes.

This had to be the screaming man. The scars, the cane, the voice; he just didn't know why. And it was nearly impossible to concentrate in this cold.

Kelly: An ordinary person, having heard the explanation this stranger gave, would have gone back inside with a quickness and called the cops.

A person like Kelly, by contrast, gave the tree in his yard a long, speculative look.

The man said he’d fallen through the tree, not out of it. Now, as far as Kelly knew, the tree wasn’t a portal, and certainly not a portal to London. For someone to have entered his yard through it, a portal would’ve had to be created.

Then there was the matter of his voice…

“You think you heard my voice,” he repeated in a neutral tone. “What makes you think it was me?”

Rune: Rune was just hoping his luck would rear its head in a minute. He didn't want some persuasive spell between them, tainting this acquaintance so soon.

"I'll freeze to death before I can explain," was his throwing a baited line.

Kelly: “Don’t be dramatic. Worst you’ll get is pneumonia.”

That being said, it was annoying having to talk across the yard and through the rain, however wise it was to do so. But he wasn’t about to let this man in his house just because he supposedly heard his disembodied voice in London and decided to trespass about it.

Kelly nodded toward a bench beneath one side of the porch. The stranger could have shelter from the rain if he so wished.

Rune: Ah. There was his luck. Still, his arms were heavy, and his legs were like jelly. Too much adrenaline in thinning the Gauntlet without previous existing tears in the rift. He felt his age when hobbling to his feet, taking a moment to rest, hunched over with his hands on his knees.

You play poker to not feel this way, he thought. And people looked forward to that? Idiots!

The closer his approach, the stronger the scent of mint and pine cut through the tar-like stench left behind by the Umbra. His invitation was taken before an objection could be made, leaving behind the sticky residue without so much as a warning as he dropped his full weight on the bench.

Kelly: Man, if Kelly didn’t know any better he would assume this man really was just drunk. Going through a portal didn’t normally cause the sort of fatigue he was seeing on display here.

Normally being the operative word there. With every passing second, it became more and more apparent that exactly nothing about this was normal.

Only the substance clinging to his visitor and the scent he assumed it was emanating were of interest to Kelly. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that he should know what it was.

“You’re out of the rain. Start talking.”

Rune: Dark eyes roamed his host from toes to eyes. Lingered on his angry scar, not bothering to pretend otherwise. He was in the middle of an internal debate, about how to even explain knowing someone's voice based on their scream. He'd lived long enough to know.

What he decided to go with felt just a little too intimate.

"I know your scream."

Kelly: His host, standing with his arms crossed, was dressed comfortably in sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt that covered the majority of the scars on his body. His hair was still damp from his bath and smelled of some sort of citrusy shampoo.

He would almost seem cozy and relaxed if not for cold skepticism in his eyes.

“You know my scream,” he repeated, perhaps a bit more sarcastically than he intended. “And apparently heard it all the way in London. Do you know what I’m about to say to you?”

Rune: Sarcasm or not, skepticism or not, the man was... pretty to look at. He needed some eye candy after his night.

"Know what not calling the police says about you?" The mage squinted. "You know screams have accents? You know what fire does to a voice?" That should confirm, shouldn't it?

Kelly: “I don’t scream.” It wasn’t an answer to any of the questions posed to him and positively reeked of layers and layers of defense mechanisms but intimate comments should always expect to meet a wall of resistance.

“You can’t identify someone based on a scream and even if you could, that still doesn’t explain how you ended up in my yard or why. Don’t be so quick to think I won’t call the cops.”

Rune: This wasn't a duel. Couldn't be called a battle of wits or any dispute. This was a trial, and a trial required evidence. He could have hobbled away by now. Could have forced himself back through the Gauntlet and hoped to keep his sanity, but he wanted to see how far this could go. Morbid curiosity.

"I followed your scream until I smelled smoke, extra crispy skin and hair. I followed until I hit a wall."

He scoffed and shook his head, droplets of water and muck flying every which way.

"I didn't hear you in London. I heard you in the Wasteland."

Kelly: The lightbulb finally went off in his head, prompting a very long, supremely exhausted sigh.

“You came out of the fucking Umbra. Of course you goddamn did.” Out of the Umbra and for his rotten luck, into his life.

The allusions to smoke and burning flesh would simply not be acknowledged, just like the comment about what fire did to voices. Acknowledging it would more than likely be interpreted as a willingness to answer questions or talk about it, which was most definitely not happening.

“Well, you found me. Consider your curiosity sated.”

Rune: "Hey, no fucking blasphemy."

Fingers combed through his hair, only to wince with surprise. Surprise out of plain forgetfulness. Now that he had found his man, he was finally aware of his body. More than adrenaline, he felt suffocated.

"I need a shower."

Kelly: “This is my house. I can blaspheme all I want. If god has a problem, he’s got a storm already brewing. He can strike me with fucking lightning.”

Kelly uncrossed his arms and leaned on his cane, nodding toward the side of the house as he opened the door.

“Hose is over there.”

Rune: Reckonings came in many forms, he almost said. He wanted to stay in whatever graces this was, so he kept his mouth shut. Maybe for an hour longer.

Fine. Guaranteed Umbra tar-jelly would make something interesting out of his grass. He'd call this probably-not-bluff and walk back into the rain. There was already a human-shaped darkness where he had landed.

At least it was never boring. The Mirror Zone made puddles surrounded by various mushrooms. The Null Zone caused sinkholes and enough tunnels to impress a gopher. What would the Wasteland create?

Kelly: A human-shaped darkness and weird happenings with the grass wouldn’t be out of place among everything else this particular yard had endured in the time Kelly had been living here.

Anything short of the house being swallowed up by the ground could be dealt with.

He had more important things to consider right now, like whether to call Leslie.

Leslie would probably get a wet stranger in his yard a towel…

Fine.

Rune: His host would return to a grumbling half-naked mage, muttering about the cotton fabric of his suit and never being able to recover his precious clothing. Soaked from head to toe with hair over his eyes and a puddle of unfortunate grime at his feet as he soaked his suit jacket with the hose. His shoes, his only salvageable possessions, sat neatly on the porch.

Kelly: While Kelly had been getting the towel, it had occurred to him to grab a garbage bag as well. He seriously doubted there was a single item the man had been wearing that hadn’t been ruined.

The bag was offered first. “There ain’t a hose in the world that’s gonna be able to save that suit.”

Rune: Where the hell was that accent from? he wondered. He looked from the hose to his precious suit to the bag with contempt.

"Did you bring me a shirt?"

Kelly: Kelly had to fight not to roll his eyes. Was this man really about to get precious about throwing his clothes away?

“You can borrow one after you shower.”

Rune: While one fought rolling his eyes the other was fighting a smile. Hello again, Lady Luck.

"Bedankt knapperd," he winked, stuffing his wallet into his shoes and stripping then and there what remained of his clothes, hesitating on his equally precious Calvin Klein boxers.

Those could wait.

Kelly: Kelly picked a spot above the stranger’s head and kept his eyes fixed there as he held out the towel, feeling distinctly like he’d just lost somehow.

He blamed Leslie Issott.

“Dry off before you step inside so you don’t drip all over the floor.”

Rune: "Aye aye, Captain." He had no name to give, so he couldn't be blamed. He'd make his way back around to dry off, otherwise that towel was useless.

Kelly: As soon as the towel changed hands, Kelly pushed the door open with his cane and pointed toward a corridor to the left of the kitchen.

“Bathroom is the first door on the right.”

Rune: A salute later, Rune made his way inside, as casual as he pleased. Wanting to take in his surroundings and anything outwardly unwelcoming.

Kelly: To say the surroundings were sparse was putting it generously.

There wasn’t much in the way of decor and the furniture had been chosen with an eye toward practicality rather than style, but the house was clean enough to pass a military inspection.

The only personal touches—if they could even be called that—were the grab bars around the bathtub in the bathroom.

Rune: Either he was ready to leave at a moment's notice, or hadn't the energy to try. Not at all colorful like his house in Curaçao. Not that he was ever there. The house had probably collected all the dust on the island.

He made his way to the bathroom and locked the door.

Kelly: With the click of the lock, Kelly finally felt like he was able to breathe out. Just what the hell had his life become in the last half hour?

First order of business.

He went into his bedroom and selected a plain black shirt he didn’t care if he ever got back and a pair of joggers. They were too big for his visitor but they had a drawstring. He could deal.

He grabbed a chair from the kitchen, set it outside the bathroom door, and put the clothes on it.

Second order of business.

{Text to Leslie} There’s a stranger in my shower and it’s your fault

Rune: Leslie stared at his phone for an entire sixty seconds of consternation.

{Text} What did I do?

Kelly: {Text} You got inside my head and made me be nice

Rune: {Text} Ok so you made a friend?

Kelly: {Text} Not exactly

{Text} Some guy fell through a portal in the tree in my backyard I didn’t know even existed

Rune: {Text} Since when did we have portals this close?!

Kelly: {Text} I don’t fucking know! But I’ll tell you what, it wasn’t there before

Rune: {Text} Sure it was a portal? Heard a loud thunderclap kinda noise?

Kelly: {Text} Man I don’t know, he was laying in my yard when I got out of the bath and said he fell through the tree

{Text} He was covered in umbra gloop, what else would it be if not a portal

Rune: Ohhhh. Oh. Leslie stared for another sixty seconds before calling Kelly's phone.

Kelly: “I only have a few minutes,” Kelly greeted in a low voice. “I don’t know how long he’s gonna be in the shower.”

Rune: "Kelly, I love you to death but why are - you don't think he's dangerous?"

Kelly: “He isn’t armed and if he was going to do something, he would’ve done it as soon as he saw my cane.”

Rune: Leslie wanted to protest the last remark but refrained.

"You said goop? Gloop. You're familiar with it?"

Kelly: "Familiar enough to know what it is and where it comes from."

Rune: Not a vampire, given the hour. Could have been anything else. What was he supposed to say?

"Never had a porter take me anywhere and wind up with gloop."

The word had put a smile in his voice.

"Glad you're safe, but the moment you're not, you know the song, ain't no mountain high enough. Have fun I guess." Something about those parting words hit his ear wrong. He rubbed at an itch on his chest.

Kelly: "If the tree wasn't a portal then he had to have created one right? Or fucking something, people don't just pop out of the Umbra and into people's yards." Kelly cast a glance toward the bathroom. Just what kind of power did the stranger in his house have?

"Have--Les, there's a rando in my house who's probably a mage! I want him out!"

Rune: Oh, he couldn't help the snort Kelly heard. Leslie squeezed at his nose and that helped a little. That was the response he was hoping for. This was still his Kelly.

"Mhm."

Kelly: Would Leslie be able to hear his frown? "What, you think this is funny? I should've left him outside to get pneumonia."

Rune: "That's not you. Wouldn't do that to me."

Kelly: "And you have the nerve to ask me what you did. This is your fault!"

Rune: "I didn't make you be nice!"

Kelly: "Yes you did! Your voice in my head told me to get him a towel and let him shower!"

Rune: "If you really thought he was dangerous you woulda covered my mouth!"

Kelly: "He was all pathetic and wet and you would've gotten him a goddamn towel! I wasn't thinking about danger, I thought he was just drunk."

Rune: "A drunk mage from the Umbra covered in gloop?"

Kelly: "He's not drunk, that was just the most plausible explanation at the time. Tell me how to get him out."

Rune: "How would you kick me out?"

Kelly: "He's not you, I wouldn't kick you out."

Rune: Leslie scratched vigorously at his chest and rubbed the back of his head, trying to think quickly. About to ask what had been said when the bathroom door creaked open. Brown eyes looking around and landing on the chair.

Kelly: Fuck, time was up.

"Gotta go, bye," he said in a hurried whisper, hanging up the phone. Now to switch back to text.

{Text} He finished showering

{Text} Tell me what to do

Rune: {Text} What has he said?

Rune had used most of his time washing his shoes and boxers. He would be damned walking around naked in a stranger's house. That's what this man still was. Names had to be exchanged at some point, but he didn't feel compelled to rush.

Shoes lined the edge of the tub. Boxers wrung and hung over the sink.

And an arm was reaching desperately for the clothes, fingers flailing before catching the sweatpants, slipping back between the gap.

Kelly: Now it was Kelly who felt something uncomfortable itch at his chest. In the moment he'd been able to dismiss what the stranger said because saving face was vital, but that didn't mean he didn't understand the implications of what he'd been told. He did.

And he hated that someone else did too.

{Text} He said he heard my scream in the Umbra

Rune: {Text} That's a whole thing I'm not familiar with. I just know the name.

Leslie bit his lip and leaned against his kitchen counter. Debated on telling Tristan, but his merman would have no answer, either.

{Text} Not in a menacing "I want more!" kinda way?

Kelly: {Text} It was the answer he gave when I asked him why he was in my yard

A far from satisfactory answer at that.

{Text} I don't know. But he's sure it was me and was curious enough about it to end up here

Rune: {Text} If he's telling the truth, it must mean something. I wouldn't kick someone out knowing something like that about me without knowing more. Aren't you curious?

This coming from the same witch that found a former angel vessel and invited him home for eggs and tea.

Kelly: Kelly sighed. It did mean something. It meant that no matter how much time had passed or what he did or where he went, god still fucking hated him and wouldn't ever stop reminding him.

{Text} I'm pissed is what I am

{Text} A stranger has no business knowing something about me that I wouldn't voluntarily choose to share

Rune: Ever the optimist, Leslie texted back with his own perspective.

{Text} Maybe he didn't want to know either and wants answers.

The bathroom door opened fully this time. Dark brown hair with black roots towel dried to chaos. Warm skin dry and bare from the waist up. A black and brown crucifix hung around his neck.

At least now he could walk out and grab the shirt. Had this been a friend's home he would have been just fine with his nudity, but not today.

Kelly: {Text} Well then he's gonna be disappointed because I have none to give

Kelly looked up and immediately looked back down at his phone, and there his eyes would remain until he was spoken to. Why the hell hadn't the man put on the shirt at the same time as the pants?

Rune: Since he wasn't looking at his guest, he wouldn't see him make himself at home on the couch. Knees brought to his chest with a tired sigh. Like a cat allowed in a stranger's home, one might think this was his domicile.

Kelly: He waited a moment longer to see if Leslie would reply. When he didn't, Kelly slipped his phone in his pocket and went to plant himself at the entrance to his living room, arms crossed.

What the hell should he do with this intruder?

"I let you shower and gave you something to wear. You indulged your curiosity. I think you know what comes next."

Rune: Let's subvert those expectations a bit and pat the other side of the couch.

"We... listen to the news and complain about how the world's gone to shit."

Kelly: Let's not and say we did.

"'We' don't do anything. I get back to my life and you go back to London or wherever it is you came from and we pretend none of this happened."

Rune: "I can't just pop back to London. That's not how it works."

Kelly: "We both know that's exactly how it works."

Kelly pulled out his phone again.

{Text} Les, can I have your porter's contact info?

Rune: "Captain Cane, I was sleepwalking. I'm tired. I'm fucking drained. You're the only thing that woke me up."

{Text} I can see if he's available but he doesn't like me giving him out like that.

He'd already gotten an earful when giving his information to Bo without his permission.

Kelly: "Not my problem. I didn't wake you up because I didn't scream. Feel free to go back to sleep anywhere that isn't here."

{Text} If he needs to be bribed I will pay him whatever he wants

Rune: {Text} Is he threatening you or something?

Rune just sighed. Planted his forehead on his knees. This man wasn't getting it. He really, really didn't want to talk about this. Understandable, but the last time he'd ignored an obvious sign, people had gotten hurt. He didn't know why he was here, and he didn't enjoy it either.

But he wasn't young and willfully blind.

He had an idea.

His head popped back up.

"Name's Rune, from Amsterdam. Yes, I am a mage." He tapped his good ear. "You get me out by talking to me. No, I don't bite. Not in the mood."

Kelly: Kelly took a deep breath and tried to summon some patience from somewhere. Anywhere.

"I have nothing to say to you, Rune from Amsterdam. I don't know you, I didn't tell you to come here, and I'm not playing this game. I have to go to work soon and if I have to call the cops to get you to leave, then that's what I'm gonna do."

Rune: "What are you afraid is gonna happen if we talk?" Too strong of a question out the gate, but it was his way. He held his hands out, arms resting in his knees, as though he could catch his question.

"Look, I'm... " he sighed, "I'm... an exorcist." He never liked the title, but it hadn't rubbed off in a century. "Just... tell me you're okay."

Kelly: It was the wrong think to ask. The wall that slammed between them at Rune's question was almost palpable.

A fucking exorcist? Was this guy serious or just grasping at straws to get him to talk?

"Then let me save you some time. I'm not possessed. I'm not yakking up pea soup and my head doesn't spin 360 degrees. I don't need an exorcism."

Rune: All this bait and no catch. He had better luck with Russian roulette than he had with this man. He tried not to make this a matter of pride, but it was tempting.

He had been awoken by fire. Could have been anything. A house fire. An explosion. He looked around the room while his host bricked his wall. A photograph. A plaque of honor. A uniform. Something.

The room was impeccably neat, but anything?

Kelly: There was nothing in the room save for the cleanliness of it that gave away anything about the man who owned it. There was a couch, a coffee table, a lamp, and a rather nice television, but no personal effects. No personality reflected anywhere that was currently visible to Rune.

There wasn’t even a plant.

In fact, the only indicators that his host had a personality were his carved cane and the small hoops in his ears.

Kelly sighed. This wasn’t working. “Look, if you don’t believe me you can press that cross you’re wearing to my forehead.”

Rune: Dark eyes returned to his host. Now that was an idea. Actually, what it was, was progress. He didn't have a framed photo to go by, but he did have that cane, and more confusion than he'd started with.

But he was intrigued.

Rune got to his feet and tugged at the crucifix buried deep in his shirt. Every stranger underestimated him. He didn't look at all as one would expect from an exorcist. Everyone wanted the stereotype.

But with a cross in his hand, it might as well have been a witch's wand. A gentle warmth would wash over Kelly's body as he neared. His movements slow, wanting to avoid having the cane broken over his spine.

His right hand laid flat over his host's heart. The cross to his forehead. Host might have expected nothing, but that warmth had become a comforting blanket over his being. Tension lessening in his muscles, as though experiencing the aftermath of a massage.

Kelly: Really? Kelly hadn’t been expecting him to actually do it but if that’s what it took to convince him and get him to leave then fine.

Kelly’s eyes flashed with warning when he was touched and if possible, he stood even straighter and stiffer than he had been already.

Rune was correct in thinking that his host hadn’t been expecting anything to happen, so when something did—benign though it was—it made him flinch. Not exactly what he wanted to have happen when he was trying to convince someone he wasn’t possessed but he couldn’t help it.

Shying away from comfort was second nature. It had taken years for him to be okay with it from Leslie and this man wasn’t Leslie.

Kelly leaned away.

“See? No sizzle, no burn mark. I’m not possessed. Satisfied?”

Rune: Heading towards 162 years of age, and the only benign creatures to ever flinch were those reliving trauma. He had tried to avoid touching his skin, but holding an object so close, it was bound to happen.

The cane had been an obvious sign but seemed a little on the nose. Now that he knew, he didn't know what to think. Standing there, watching dumbfounded as the wolf retreated.

He was healthy, and not healthy at all. Their connection hadn't been long enough to feel anything beyond the conspicuous, and it was fucking irritating.

The cross was squeezed in his fist. He didn't know how to approach this any other way than his own. He was a blunt object at best. This was a strike on his confidence, despite miniscule gains.

This discovery had awakened the insatiable. He needed some time to think.

"Okay."

Still holding his necklace, he turned his back on the Garou, retreating to the bathroom for his shoes, wallet, and underwear.

Kelly: Kelly was fully aware that in their world, a touch could betray just as much as a confession, if not more.

That wasn’t why he broke it. His knowledge of the Umbra had already given away that he wasn’t a mere mortal and Rune himself had confessed to being a mage. They were on a fairly even playing field.

What difference did it make if the man knew he was a wolf?

Kelly watched Rune with a frown. Okay? Had it worked? Had he actually managed to convince this man to leave him be?

It appeared that way but he wasn’t counting his chickens just yet.

Rune: Rune made his way into the kitchen, looking around for any sort of rag or towel to dry the inside of his shoes. A fruitless endeavor, seeing as he was about to walk back into the rain. What a shame this man was going to just allow that to happen. The world outside was howling, and as tempting as it was to play pitiful, he had said okay, and he was a man of his word.

Kelly: There was a dish towel hanging by the sink and a roll of paper towels on the counter, beside which sat Kelly’s forgotten water and a half-empty prescription bottle of Vicodin.

As for the man himself? Rather than follow his guest into the kitchen, he was rooting around in the coat closet for a stupid umbrella because he could still hear Leslie’s voice in his head.

Rune: Rune lowered to read the name. Considering the day he'd had, he could have this. Did he look like a Kelly? Maybe if he smiled.

His loafers were as dry as he could manage and still he winced from the cold.

Kelly: Kelly finally came into the kitchen, looking from Rune to the pill bottle without a single word.

He offered a clear umbrella handle first.

Rune: And Kelly was looked at with fresh eyes. Kelly Rose. And this Kelly didn't even have his full name.

He took the umbrella with a small bow of his head, and made an attempt at civility, just to see, offering his hand.

Kelly: It was safe to assume that the cat was already out of the bag. Rune probably knew what he was and now he also knew his name. There wasn’t much more that a handshake could give him that he didn’t already have.

Kelly took his hand and shook it.

Rune: The same handshake Leslie gave, pressing his index finger into his pulse. The mage shuddered, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from flinching.

Kelly: Kelly pulled his hand away as quickly as he could but it was too late. He noticed Rune’s shudder and it told him that, brief though the contact had been, it hadn’t been brief enough.

Something had been felt or seen that Kelly probably didn’t want to be felt or seen.

Rune: The same familiar gesture, but the old mage witnessed more than the young Verbena could. More than Rune had intended, and he had intended to pry. He needed something. Anything. Kelly had a stranger in his yard, but it was Rune who had traveled across an ocean, away from the comforting acrid haze of cigarettes and rotting wood, two-hundred-year-old playing cards and dirty carpets. Away from the sanctuary of a centuries-old hole in the wall, for this.

That scream began to replay. The sensation of torn muscles and charred skin.

This was why he drank. Was this why they both drank? Something to drown.

"Why are you afraid of being seen?"

Kelly: This man was determined to ask impossible questions, determined to open doors he had no right to open and that had been shut for a reason.

And for what? What exactly did he think he was going to change by doing it?

“Tell me where it’s written that I have to be,” he muttered, taking the pill bottle and tossing it back in its drawer. “I don’t owe anybody a damn thing.”

Rune: "You thought you did?" was all he could think to ask, taking a deep breath from his nostrils and out his mouth. Slow, so as not to draw attention. Probably didn't matter.

Kelly: “You asked a question and I answered it. There’s nothing that says I have to be ‘seen’ and I don’t owe anyone my indulgence while they try.”

Rune: "You don't have to do anything," he echoed. "It's so easy. You don't have to look in the mirror. You don't have to look back. You don't have to think about anything. It's so easy! You can just exist. Yeah... so easy," he said to himself, shuffling towards the door feeling more like Kelly than Rune.

Kelly: Sure, Kelly thought, shaking his head. Judge the cripple for trying to make it through the fuckin’ day.

“Facile, mon cul.” He snatched his water bottle from the counter and went into his bedroom to change for work. He trusted Rune could and would see himself out.

Rune: The hours rolled by, and the mage named Rune was nowhere to be found. Leslie text back well after his departure, explaining his porter's refusal to work with any changing breed. The paragraph of apology that followed was rushed and dripping with Leslie's tone.

Rune had walked and walked, managing a mile from Kelly's doorstep before squatting down to breathe. Feeling as though he'd been holding his breath with every step, lungs burning and skin hot.

The umbrella was planted against his back, forehead to knees as he collected himself. What a strange fucking afternoon. What a broken creature. What a waste of time.

The thoughts that had followed him out the door hadn't tapped his shoulder since his youth. A broken creature, but a powerful one. Power granted by torment was especially potent. Might as well have been a sorcerer.

Rune rose to his feet and continued. Not nearly strong enough to hunt for rifts or attempt one of his own. A hotel would have to suffice.

But he could only last so long, lying on the top covers, hands on his stomach, staring at a popcorn ceiling. At least he had somewhere to return. A pub would do just fine.

Kelly: Kelly couldn’t even find it in him to be annoyed at Leslie’s porter. Not now that there wasn’t a need for him anymore.

He reassured Leslie that everything was fine and that he didn’t have anything to apologize for. He told him that the stranger had left on his own but made sure to leave out what had transpired.

That was for Kelly to overthink as he donned his black button-down and dark jeans and made himself presentable.

Why are you afraid of being seen? Why the hell did it matter? And what did Rune from Amsterdam care anyway? It wasn’t like he could actually do anything. Talking about the past never changed or fixed anything, all it did was tear open wounds and let people indulge their curiosity about things that weren’t any of their business. He didn’t need some nosy pretty boy mage coming in and poking at him just because—

Kelly paused with one arm in his jacket. Pretty boy mage? Where the hell had that come from?

He shook his head and finished putting on his jacket. “Don’t go there, Rose,” he told himself, grabbing his keys.

Strictly speaking he still had some time before his shift, but he was hungry, and he remembered Bobby saying something about making clam chowder for the dinner special today.

He’d go in, have himself a good meal, and he wasn’t going to think about Rune or the look on his face when he’d pressed his cross to Kelly’s forehead one second fucking longer.

Rune: His name was becoming a mantra. Kelly Rose. Kelly Rose the werewolf. The werewolf with burns he could not heal. With a scream so sharp he was never the same.

He almost blasphemed, sighing through his nose as he entered Pete's Pub. Not at all like a dive in London, but it had its charms. Very... American. The music especially.

Still dressed in Calvin Klein loafers and Kelly's rags, his shoulders wide and confident, Rune took a seat at the bar.

If only he could have a cigarette. He'd sell a year of his life for a proper Elysium.

His new umbrella was hung from the bar, leaning forward on his elbows, only to plant his forehead on the cold wooden surface.

Pete: This time of year and this time of day, Pete’s pub was filled with mostly locals having dinner and a post-work drink. With the storm still raging outside, the fire roaring in the hearth, and the mix of blues-rock and conversation, the atmosphere was positively cozy.

And with Kelly Rose the werewolf tucked away in the pub’s kitchen having his dinner and talking to Bobby, it was Pete who approached this new forlorn-looking patron.

“You all right there?” he asked.

Rune: "Jet lag," sighed his customer.

Shit, how much money did he have left? He sat up and smiled, reaching carefully between his legs, opening his wallet and losing his hand beneath a portal the exact width of the leather. Blindly he felt around his dresser in Willemstad. He needed to remedy this before having to resort to gold coins.

The texture felt right. He pulled from the dresser, through the portal and - fuck. Why did he still have yen?!

A slew of Dutch curses left his lips as he lined his money on the table. Yen, euros, pesos - why pesos? When was he in Mexico? - zloty - thank you, Lord! Thank you for one last Benjamin Franklin.

"What'll this get me?"

Pete: Pete looked on in amusement as currency after currency appeared on the bar, much to his customer’s apparent dismay. He couldn’t place the language he was speaking but the sound of swearing was universal.

“You weren’t kidding about that jet lag,” he chuckled. “Looks like you’ve done a full lap around the planet.”

He smiled at the hundred-dollar bill. “In here? Just about everything. Pick your poison. If you’re hungry, I’ve got a menu you can look at. Special today is homemade clam chowder.”

Rune: The bartender's amusement was contagious, and for a moment he felt just a margin improved. Money was stacked alphabetically and stuffed back in his wallet - the actual wallet this time.

"Don't think my stomach can handle milk."

Rune perked. "You have genever?"

Pete: At least he looks a little less depressed, Pete thought. It was the gift of the small town bartender to put people at ease and he was very good at it.

“You’re in luck.” He turned to the shelves of bottles behind him and took the one he needed after a quick scan.

“Want it straight or you in the mood for a cocktail?”

Rune: "Just nectar in a glass. Stop me when we've reached Benjamin."

He was hungry, but right now he was also poor, and this wasn't the kind of pub with gambling, from the looks of it.

"Where can someone play poker around here?"

Pete: “You got it,” said Pete, pouring a healthy measure into a glass and placing it in front of his customer.

He gave him a curious look at that question. Not something he got asked every day.

“For pleasure or profit? If it’s the former, I can point you in the right direction. If it’s the latter, you’ll have better luck with pool.”

Rune: Rune stared for a moment, taking a little longer than usual to translate back to Dutch before raising his chin in understanding.

"Not snooker?"

Pete: “Not here, but there’s a place the next town over if pool’s not your thing. But…” Pete thought for a moment. “My bartender can probably give you better answers than I can.”

Rune: Next town over without a car. So pool it would be.

"Okay," he said into his glass.

Kelly/Pete: Pete looked toward the door that led to the back and smiled. “There he is. Hey, Kell, any places in town to play snooker?”

Kelly shook his head as he made his way over, distracted by the apron he was in the process of tying. “Nope, just pool and just at the Brig right now. Charlie’s table is still being re-felted and it’ll be another…few…weeks…”

As he finally looked up and saw who was sitting across from his boss, he could swear he heard god laughing at him.

“You cannot be fuckin’ serious…”

Rune: Rune was staring as well, lips still on his glass and unsure whether or not to be confused or pleased. What was it? Former or latter? Was this destiny his captain loved to go on about, or was this luck?

He would just ignore that last comment, looking at what he assumed was the owner, given his comment.

"Where's - you have a brig?"

Pete: “Uh…” Pete looked between the two of them, more than a little surprised at Kelly’s reaction to who Pete thought was some random tourist.

“No, um, The Brig is another bar here in Edenton. They have pool tables. Do ya’ll know each other?”

Rune: Well, Kelly's reaction had let it slip, might as well have fun before he finished his drink.

"One wild summer. Married in Vegas. Divorced the next day." He leaned his head toward Kelly, eyes playful. "He's a wild one."

But his smile was quick to fade. The Benjamin was placed on the table and slid across.

"Where's this Brig?" he said to just one, not even casting a glance.

Kelly/Pete: “Is that right,” Pete chuckled. Something weird was going on here. He couldn’t remember seeing Kelly like this with anyone in all the years he’d known him.

The wolf didn’t look hostile or anything, but he had the face of a man begging for the earth to swallow him whole.

“I’ll let Kelly tell you where it is while I get your change.” He took the money and disappeared over to the register before his bartender could protest. A perfectly reasonable thing to do but just for a second there he’d felt a June-like urge to meddle.

Telling himself to be professional, Kelly took a deep breath.

“Gimme your phone.”

Rune: "You've seen me half-naked," he said into his drink. "I don't have it." He could reach through his wallet or create a spontaneous portal, but the truth of the matter was he'd be feeling around blindly and with the potential of his London host finding a floating arm in the middle of the day. That wasn't going to happen.

Kelly: As if mocking him, a flash of that very image came unbidden into his mind before it was viciously chased away.

“Right.”

Kelly reached into his apron pocket for a pen and his notepad and began drawing Rune a map. He told himself it was just to get him out of here faster, but he was also going to the trouble of adding some landmarks and other useful places in town just in case.

In case of what? He refused to think about it.

“You’ll hear it before you see it,” said Kelly, ripping the page off the pad and offering it. Because the sleeves of his button-up were rolled up, more of the scarring on his hand and arm were visible, no longer hidden beneath the T-shirt he’d worn earlier.

At his chest, the couple of buttons he’d left undone revealed more of the same.

Rune: He must have been comfortable at this job, Rune thought, having finally looked up from his empty glass. It wasn't like him to avoid a glance, or even sound the retreat, but he knew staring would only summon his curiosity. He wanted to touch those scars. Abstract art they were.

And he wasn't ashamed of that thought.

"Lot of gambling?" he asked, taking the map between his index and middle finger, keeping his touch strictly to paper.

Kelly/Pete: “It’s very present, let’s just say that.” Most people went for the dancing but there were a good few who lived at the pool tables. “Just don’t piss off the bouncers and you’ll be fine. And if you know what’s good for you stay away from the preppy asshole and his friends, you’ll spot them right away.”

“They have a second home in one of the holding cells in the sheriff’s station,” Pete said as he returned, handing Rune his change. “They play dirty and when it doesn’t work they like to wait for people outside to gang up on them.”

Rune: "Preppy people? Sweaters over shoulders preppy?"

And why was Kelly telling him any of this? Made more sense coming from the other man. Seemed well-intentioned enough.

And looking at the map, he had quite a bit more walking to do. And once more curious why the extra details.

"How many miles?"

Kelly/Pete: “Couple miles.” Hell if Kelly knew why he was bothering to tell Rune all this. Wasn’t like a mage couldn’t take care of themselves. Maybe he was feeling a little guilty.

Or maybe he was just getting soft.

Pete nodded. “Yep. Polos, sweaters, boat shoes. The type that look like their life is just one long brunch.”

Rune: "That's half the men in Amsterdam," he smirked.

It was something to do. He was ready to turn what he had left into profit. It would suffice until he had the strength to riffle through all of his caches.

"Thanks for the drink. Time to walk."

Pete: “Walk?” Pete repeated, turning to look out the windows. The storm that had begun earlier that afternoon showed no signs of letting up. “In this? You don’t have a car?”

Rune: "I just dropped out of the sky." He shrugged. "Seen worse."

Kelly/Pete: Kelly threw Rune a pointed look as he pulled a beer for a customer who’d just approached the bar, as if telling him to mind his comments.

They were in public, after all.

“You’ll get sick if you go walking in this mess. I can give you a ride. It’ll be a lot quicker.”

Rune: Rune just tilted his head in return. The wilder the story the less he was taken seriously. Fine in most aspects of his life. Saved him a lot of trouble.

Unless a certain wolf gave him away with that grave look, he was in the clear.

What did he care, anyway? The question was becoming as much of a mantra as his name.

"You're a prince if you do."

Kelly/Pete: Pete shook his head. “Hardly. Just don’t want you to have to deal with a cold on top of the jet lag. Hold the fort for me?” he added to Kelly as he took off his apron.

“You got it.”

“Thanks. I’ll bring my car around. Gimme two shakes.” And with that, their buffer disappeared through the door behind the bar.

Rune: Rune was willing to let the silence stretch. Fingers traveled up his shirt - Kelly's shirt - feeling for his necklace, his crucifix just below his chest.

He didn't have to look directly at him to watch from his peripheral.

Kelly: In watching Kelly—and the people he interacted with by extension—it would become obvious very quickly which patrons were locals and which were tourists. The locals called Kelly by his name, asked for their regular orders knowing they were remembered, but otherwise didn’t really treat the bartender any particularly noteworthy way.

The tourists stared. They looked at Kelly’s facial scar instead of his eyes when they spoke to him and when they weren’t speaking to him, they stared at the scars on his arm, neck, and chest. It wasn’t uncommon for him to have to repeat things because they simply weren’t listening.

It got old real fast but fortunately for him, there weren’t too many tourists tonight. Some good came from the rain after all, even if it had also dumped a mage in his yard that he could feel looking at him.

Rune: One of the men staring Kelly down was being watched in return. Two fingers tapped at his cross as his lips thinned tight.

He could say something. Do something. He wanted to, and it hadn't crossed his mind to question reason.

He could stare. All he pleased. He wasn't staring in horror. He was admiring. It was his right.

A corner of Kelly's map was torn. His pen swiftly borrowed to sketch a little symbol.

Rune made his way over to the stranger, leaning over, he made a show of bowing.

"Sorry. Sorry. You look familiar. Do you know Marco?" Putting on his best Japanese accent, he played the role of confused tourist, and slipped the piece of paper into the stranger's pocket. The accent, the question, the bowing, all distractions, and no one, save Kelly, the wiser.

"So sorry, so sorry." Dumbass.

Kelly/Pete: Kelly’s brow furrowed ever so slightly as Rune put on his little song and dance with the tourist and slipped him something. Where had that accent come from? And why?

He watched from the corner of his eye just like Rune had done with him as the guy confusedly brushed the mage off and said he didn’t know any Marco, then moved away from the bar entirely in favor of a table.

Kelly was almost smiling to himself when Pete came through the front door and waved Rune over.

Rune: No more avoiding his gaze. Kelly was looked in the eyes, given a wink. "Good luck."

His map was gently folded. It was useless now but pocketed regardless. Just like admiring Kelly's scars, it was his, and his right.

And back into the rain, leaving his umbrella behind.

Peter's ride was given a whistle of approval before slipping in.

Kelly/Pete: The wink only made Kelly more curious about what Rune has done. So much so that for a second he even forgot to look annoyed at him.

But then Rune was going out the door and Kelly was distracted by a patron and the moment was gone.

“You like?” Pete said, beaming with pride as he gripped the steering wheel of his car. “It’s my pride and joy.”

Rune: "It's really nice!" His smile lingered, awkward, and then, "What is it?"

He hadn't bothered with a seat belt, but knew better than to raise his knee and rest his foot on the seat.

Pete: “Cadillac,” Pete chuckled as they got on their way, immediately glad he’d offered this man a ride. Rain was really coming down.

“So how long you been in town? Enjoying your stay so far?”

Rune: "Cadillac." The word just didn't fit his accent. Sat heavy on the base of his tongue.

Rune fought a smile. "Just a day. Had my clothes stolen."

Pete: "Stolen? Damn." Pete was silent for a moment, head tilting curiously after a beat or two. "That why you're wearing Kelly's clothes?"

Rune: "Hmm." He held the shirt again, to what was hidden underneath.

Kelly was about to have some entertainment. Not seven years of bad luck, but one horrific evening was going to unfold before him.

"You memorized his wardrobe?"

Pete: "You smell like him." Which, when he'd initially noticed, Pete had taken to mean that the two of them knew each other on a very personal level. He'd never seen Kelly with anyone but that didn't mean the man was a monk.

Rune: "I pity your nose."

Might as well see. He offered his hand, eyes on the road.

"Rune."

Pete: He laughed and reached over to shake Rune's hand. "Pete. That's just what happens when you spend a long time in proximity to someone."

Rune: Rune hummed again. Like with Kelly, his finger pressed into the driver's pulse. Natural age. Healthy. Not... Garou. A bear! That was a first.

He shouldn't say anything. Self-preservation demanded silence, but he wasn't concerned.

"A bear and a wolf walk into a bar..." he shook his head. "Are there no vampires in this place?"

Pete: If Rune had picked literally any other two animals, Pete would've thought nothing of it. He would've laughed it off and chalked it up to small talk. But it was just too specific a comment, especially once the vampires were brought into the fold.

Still, his smile remained easy and casual. He trusted that if this man was close to Kelly Rose--close enough to let him borrow his clothes--and meant any harm, then Kelly never would've let Pete give him a ride, much less be alone with him.

"Oh, Edenton's practically a storybook," he chuckled. "Everyone lives in harmony."

Rune: "Storybooks I read usually end with hunters." Some people just loved to tack that title to his collar, but it just wouldn't stick. He didn't care what Kelly was, or Pete, or the vampire down the street. He had only one rule: don't be an unhinged psychopath.

"You don't want to purge them?"

Pete: He shook his head. "Nothing like that, no. Everyone who lives here understands that it's best not to cause any trouble and keep to themselves. Edenton and its surroundings are an Elysium, you might say." For everyone and everything that lived within its borders.

Rune: Ah. He knew that word very well.

"Everything but the humans," he said, leaning against the car door and his forehead to the chilly window.

"No judgment," he sighed, suddenly feeling tired.

Pete: "It extends to them, too," Pete said thoughtfully, thinking of his youth and how very normal and safe he had felt growing up here. He knew now that back then there had already been vampires in his hometown but he'd been an adult before he realized it. Maybe it was inexperience or naivete, but he thought that was a sign that the Elysium was functioning as it should.

"Granted, people are gonna be people. Take the wannabe Heathers at the Brig for instance."

Rune: "You know this?" It was curious for a changing breed to know as much as this one. To sit cozy with a vampire and not feel compelled to rip the body in two.

"Heathers?"

Pete: Pete nodded. "I do."

Even though they were speaking relatively openly, just coming out and saying 'oh, I thought I was human for most of my life and a vampire and a Druid taught me the ways of the supernatural world' was a bit much to be sharing with someone he didn't know.

"The movie. Ever seen it?"

Rune: Rune had his doubts, but only because in all his years, it was difficult to fathom every recipient of a vampire's bite to be consenting. Then again he had no room to judge, given his proclivity for gambling. There were mortals walking around with shaved years because of him, and he felt no shred of remorse.

"I don't watch TV. Not interesting after Technicolor."

Pete: Technicolor? Just how old was the man sitting next to him?

“There’s a lot of great stuff that’s come out since then. Might be worth giving it a shot one day if you’re bored.”

Rune: He placed his hand on his chest. "Not to sound like an old man, but there are better things to do. Games, music, books, fucking."

Pete: Pete laughed. “You don’t sound like an old man. There’s no single thing that’s gonna be for everyone. As long as you’re enjoying yourself, who cares.”

Rune: "You're a hippie, aren't you?"

Pete: He laughed again and shook his head. “Not really, I just calmed down like we all do as we go through life.”

Rune: "Says the bear."

Rune bit his lip and sat up. There was a question on his tongue, but it could make or break his plans.

He decided to make a play with casual.

"How long's Kelly been here?"

Pete: “Hey, being a bear is a very peaceful existence.” At least it had been for him, minus the first couple months.

“Uh…around about three years now, I think. Give or take six months. Why do you ask?”

Rune: Just a noncommittal sound and a shrug. Better to stay vague in this instance. His chin in hand, he looked back out the window again.

"Are you taking the scenic route?" This ride felt so long. He'd blame the rain, or maybe this Pete was up to something.

Pete: “This whole town is one big scenic route.”

There was no stalling or anything underhanded afoot. Pete’s speed was in deference to the rain but even so, it was only another moment or two before the bass pumping out of the Brig would start to be felt and the building came into view.

“We’re here. This is The Brig.”

Rune: The map was referred to, making a mental note of where Kelly's house was and the distance to Wayside Inn. He could make a night of this place and ignore the rain, if he was determined.

"I owe you, Pete," he smiled, getting out of the car before he could refuse.

Pete: “Don’t worry about it,” Pete called after him. “Just watch out for the Heathers!”

The rain might have been slowing things down over at Pete’s pub, but it was the opposite at The Brig. The bar was as packed as usual with locals and tourists alike, drinking and dancing and shooting pool under the watchful eye of the bouncers.

Rune/Q: This wasn't the worst fashion Rune had ever endured, but he certainly missed his comfortable suit when he walked through the door. A few lingering faces were expected. This was a small town and his face was nothing familiar. The hair, the shoes, the sweats, he looked nothing short of homeless.

He hardly noticed the curly-haired bartender staring him down, looking at the bouncer behind him with a raised eager brow.

"He's pretty," Q mouthed, smiling across the room at his best friend.

Tane: The town may have been small and Rune's outfit may have been unusual, but this was an environment accustomed to the unusual and whatever attention he garnered would soon shift in favor of something else. No one ever looked twice at a place like The Brig.

At least, not the patrons. The employees were a different story.

Tane smiled back at Q and followed the newcomer with his gaze, giving his bartender a nod of agreement. He was pretty. Tane just hoped he wouldn't be one of the ones to cause trouble tonight.

The group at the pool tables was already forcing him away from Q and the bar just so he could keep an eye on them.

Rune/Q: Q flipped a bottle of vodka and set about making a dirty martini for a local. He could and would stare as he pleased, but only after orders. The job came first.

Rune argued with wants vs needs, standing at the end of the bar, watching a game of pool happening between a biker and what looked like a living breathing fisherman stereotype. He couldn't come off too eager, begging for a waged match.

So he forced himself to sit at the bar, counting what was left of his money. He needed a drink in his hand, at the very least.

Kelly/Tane: Tane didn't like the look of that biker one bit but so far all there had been nothing that required interference. Trouble was more likely to come from the Abercrombie crew at the next table if they kept knocking drinks back at the same pace they had been for the past half hour.

Wouldn't be the first time, Tane thought to himself, recalling the last time he'd had to haul them out. They hadn't gone quietly then and they wouldn't now, he was sure of it.

Those same boys were on Kelly's mind as he stared at the umbrella that had been hanging on the bar, though it wasn't them so much as someone who was now in proximity to them.

All that bellyaching about not wanting to freeze to death and the damn mage had forgotten the umbrella. If he got pneumonia he'd have no one to blame but himself.

So why the hell did Kelly keep thinking about taking it to him?

Rune: He was shit out of luck for a glass of Holland's best. The cheapest strongest drink would have to do. Smelled like rubbing alcohol and didn't taste much better, but it was something to have on hand as he approached the tall round table between the two groups. One of the Heathers, as they were not-so-affectionately called, seemed to have taken notice of his clash of fashion.

For now he would watch, sizing up east and west for the most favorable option. Eventually holding out fifty dollars, taunting who was ready to lose their money and their jacket to a tourist.

Kelly/Tane: Well, well, well. It looked like their pretty newcomer was going to join the crowd at the pool tables, which meant that Tane got to have a nice long look at him. It made a good consolation prize since he couldn’t be within flirting range of Q.

Whether there was going to be trouble was yet to be been, but the second money started being waved around, the potential for it went way up. Those Abercrombie boys were never ones to back down from a challenge and it was clear even at this distance that they’d already written off the pretty boy as an easy mark.

Moving it out of sight hadn’t helped.

Even though he couldn’t see it anymore, Kelly was still thinking about the stupid umbrella and about whether or not he should do anything with the stupid umbrella and about that damn mage by extension and it was all starting to annoy the daylights out of him.

When the annoyance reached a fever pitch, he pulled out his phone and sent a message to his dealer asking him to meet. He needed a top up.

Rune/Q: Q couldn't help but look. It was his way, his drive, and he enjoyed watching Tane work up his appetite. Their understanding of each other had spanned years. No conversation needed to be had; no hint of jealousy.

Nothing but luck. Rune agreed to a game with the Heathers, checking the table for roll-off before a lag shot against his opponent.

Card games were more his speed, but the Noble Game of Billiards had been a part of his life since childhood. Underneath a table was where he would often find his father after days of neglect.

Pocketing half the balls on his first break might have silenced the Heathers, but disallowing his opponent even one turn at a stripe was perhaps a bit too petty. He had been warned, and taking his money, thought it best to turn his attention to the laughing biker and his fisherman friend.

Kelly/Pete/Tane: Tane exhaled a laugh and shook his head, silently glad for the pretty boy. Although if looks could kill, those Abercrombie boys would be nailing his ass to the wall.

The biker and his buddy would probably be better sports and maybe more enjoyable company, but Tane doubted the others were going to take their defeat and walk away.

Oh well. That’s what he was for. He’d keep his eye on them and hope for the best.

It was half an hour before Tony got back to Kelly and it would be another hour on top of that before he’d be able to meet him.

And that was assuming Tony wasn’t late which he always fucking was. At least this time Kelly wasn’t desperate.

Near the appointed hour, Kelly took off his apron. “Got an errand to run. Shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

Pete nodded and gave him the go ahead. “Drive safe, it’s still pouring.”

“Yep.”

Kelly grabbed his jacket and the umbrella and headed out the back.

Rune: The Heathers had been about pocketing their money. The biker and fisherman were going to be much more enjoyable company, given their good-natured humor. Rather than fifty, Rune slammed down a quarter and earned another laugh.

Of course, he wouldn't call himself an exorcist. As far as anyone here was concerned, he was a professional gambler. The biker, Eagle, and his best friend Jerry didn't give two shits, and their conversation was much more stimulating.

Didn't stop the hard looks from the next table over, but it wasn't their money anymore, now was it?

Kelly: He was just going to meet his dealer. No other reason, no ulterior motive. He was halfway through his Vicodin and needed a refill, that was all.

That was what Kelly told himself the whole drive to the Brig. He was running an errand, not rushing off to give some mage he didn’t even know an umbrella, because that would be an insane thing to do and he was not an insane person. He was just being practical.

And a champion of denial like him could tell himself he believed that and almost manage to do it.

He didn’t look for Rune as he entered the Brig, instead making a beeline for the quietest side of the bar and immediately flagging down Q.

“Club soda when you get the chance.”

Rune/Q: Rune had every intention of allowing himself to lose a game or two. Though he hadn't walked in with a cue in hand, he doubted an Elysium as Peter had described harbored no other mage. There were some things you just didn't do around other mages. Gambling was one of them.

So far, he hadn't found an opening. Skill was to blame. Eight-ball was just a little too easy once the law of reflection was understood.

That was, until Rune heard a familiar voice, looking up as he took his shot, not even bothering to call out the pocket. Eagle threw his head back and cackled as the cue ball fell into a corner pocket.

"'Bout goddamn time!"

"Don't blaspheme," Rune sighed.

Q slid Kelly his drink. On the rocks without even asking. There was another interesting specimen. Reminded him of Tane. Apparently, he smiled to himself, he had a type.

"Thought you were at work tonight," Q greeted, looking back over at the opposite pool table.

Kelly: No one could appreciate a small town bartender like another small town bartender. There was a strange comfort in having someone just know what you wanted without having to ask.

Kelly gave Q a grateful nod and took a sip. “I am. That’s why I’m not ordering bourbon. Just came in to catch up with our mutual friend.” Who, as expected, was late.

There were too many competing scents in here to be able to distinguish any single one, so he’d have to rely on casual scans of the crowd unless he got lucky and was able to pick out a voice above the music.

Not that he wanted to, of course.

Rune/Q: At least... he thought he had heard - the man was working. Two miles away or whatever at some other pub. Between the crowd back and forth from the dance floor and the patrons sitting at the bar... must have been his bum ear playing tricks on him.

Q leaned forward on his forearms. He knew exactly how much time he had for a quick little chat.

"Thought you just got some." But his smile was devilish. "Want some pain relief, can give you that in the bathroom. Have you all better in five minutes."

Kelly: Q’s smile was met with a gently amused look. The suggestion wasn’t entirely unappealing.

“Unless a quickie in the bathroom is gonna stop the rain, I still need that refill. The cold doesn’t like me.” And it was only going to get worse as the autumn wore on and turned into winter.

Had he left? Where the hell—there. At the pool tables.

Kelly sighed into his glass.

Rune/Q: "Babe, you need, like, Utah or Arizona or some shit." He gave a quick pat to his cheek and turned back to clean a few glasses.

Skin-to-skin touch affected more than one this evening. That simple touch was enough to warm Q's skin, causing a sigh of his own. The look he gave Tane was one he had received before. Many times. His bartender was aching for stimulation.

Rune hadn't taken notice of the fact that he was being watched. Not only by Kelly, but the blond behind the trio. Jerry had, sitting at the table with his beer, waiting patiently for his turn against whomever won.

"What chu want, son?"

Rune looked up at Jerry and behind at - he didn't catch his name.

"You. Let's go again."

Rune looked around the bar, assessing the square footage before sighing. A lot of that going around tonight.

"With my arm behind my back? Let you go first? What about with my eyes closed?"

Kelly/Tane: In this whole town there were only a few people Kelly was okay being touched by, and Q was one of them.

“Mormons and the desert are depressing as fuck. I’d rather be in pain and perpetually waiting for Tony to learn how to read a clock.”

Tane had only looked away from the pool tables for a second to wink at Q and somehow in that split second, trouble had managed to brew from at least one party.

“Don’t take the bait,” he said under his breath as, unnoticed by him, Kelly Rose’s attention zeroed in on the same scene.

Rune: Rune wouldn't say he was at the end of his patience, but when his thoughts began to filter in his father's language, he knew he was reaching his limit. He reached for his drink on Jerry's table, only to be stopped by a pool cue. The sharp thwack cause several to jump.

"I want my money back. Let's go, goddammit."

What was it with Americans and this word?

"Don't fucking blaspheme."

Just two fingers, a quick, harsh flick to the tourist's scalp.

"Do somethin'."

Kelly/Tane: Oh hell.

Before Kelly could debate with himself about interfering, Tane was already doing it. The man could cross distances and cut through crowds with remarkable speed, especially when he was prepared.

And, since Kelly had seen him watching the tables, he knew he had been.

Tane grabbed the blond kid’s arm and shook his head. He was bigger and stronger and one flick was all the kid was going to be able to do.

“What did I tell you the last time about fucking around and finding out?” He pulled the kid away from the pretty boy. “You gonna cool it or you gonna get the hell out of my bar?”

Rune: "Don't fuckin' touch me!" Phones were coming out, as expected, and Rune put another foot of distance between himself and the ordeal.

"He's cool, man," said the only Heather without his phone at the ready.

"Hey, he can't touch me!"

Tane: “Get your pal under control or I’m tossing him out,” he said to the calmer of the Abercrombie boys, releasing the kid for now. Glenn had long ago given him permission to ban troublemakers at his own discretion and tonight could very well be the night to break that particular camel’s back.

But whether it was or not, he wasn’t going far. Maybe the silent threat of his presence would be enough deterrent.

Rune: Of course he wanted to stay. He had a bone to pick with the skinny Asian prick. He faked a toothy grin and threw a peace sign at his target. The last man to be given a peace sign, it didn't end well.

"Still want my money."

"Oh, shut up, kid," Eagle frowned.

Kelly/Tane: Tane didn’t like that taunting bullshit one bit but unless the kid tried to pull something else, there was nothing he could do. His hands were tied.

The singular silver lining was that the pretty boy knew how to show some restraint.

Kelly felt every bit as annoyed as Tane as he watched things settle at the pool tables. Hadn’t he told that damn mage not to go near the Heathers? Hell had he been thinking?

Before his mood really got a chance to simmer, Tony finally showed up.

“Do I need to buy you a watch?” Kelly muttered, shaking his head. “I told you I was working, I need to go back soon.”

“Stop riding my dick, I’m here aren’t I?”

And thus began the usual song and dance. They’d play their part, just two friends catching up over a drink while under the table, their exchange was made. There’d be no negotiating from Kelly over the amount he was given this time since this was really just an excuse, which Tony was grateful for.

Kelly was barely listening to his hushed lecture about having to be cautious. Most of his attention was at the pool tables. That preppy bastard was cooking something up, no doubt about it.

Rune: There was a part of Rune that wished the voice he had heard was real. But then again, he wondered why, and why he had followed that voice through the Umbra to begin with. First come first serve was usually the policy, but why? One incident some hundred years ago he could barely remember. Traditions made from nothing more than a single unique experience.

Rune looked at the money he had earned. He wanted to call this a night, but he wasn't yet finished. The stupid American succeeded in sucking the energy out of his eyes.

Rune turned back to the Heathers. What was one more game?

The only one with sense stepped forward, tried to smile.

"Look, man, he didn't mean nothin' by it."

Rune placed a quarter on their table. Another quarter, and another. Then every dollar in his possession.

"Match it. Let's go."

Kelly/Tane: “Goddammit,” Kelly hissed under his breath as Rune placed his money on the table. Hadn’t he told him to steer clear? Why hadn’t he fucking listened?

“What’s that?”

He turned back to Tony and shook his head. “Nothing, don’t worry about it. We square?”

The dealer nodded. “Yep. Pleasure doing business.”

“Great, thanks. Quin.” Kelly flagged Q down again and paid for his drink before he made his way closer to the pool tables, keeping a low profile.

Tane didn’t notice Kelly’s approach. He had the sheriff’s station’s number pulled up on his phone, finger on the metaphorical trigger in case this pool game ended the way he feared it would.

Rune/Q: Q didn't think he'd ever be accustomed to hearing that name. Back home he was Quintin. With his brother and the rest of the world, he was Q. That hybrid in-between had turned his legs to jelly the first time Kelly had ever said it. A warm feeling lingered in the pit of his stomach with its utterance ever since.

One of those clients he would miss when no longer required.

Rune pointed to the rack. By now he was bitter, petty, and tired. He would have the insufferable jackass choose his cue for him. Of course, the blond would choose the lightest stick. Out of his own spite, he insisted Rune break again, believing wholeheartedly lightning couldn't strike the same place twice.

Rune rubbed one of his many rings. A gold ring with an onyx center as he stared a hole into the green felt.

The mage chalked the tip of his cue, lowered, and lined his shot. The sharp snap of cue stick to cue ball succeeded by the pocket of every last stipe and solid. The cue ball slowly rolled back to position, and there Rune stood, staring the blond down as he leaned against the table.

"Your turn?"

Q kept busy, wiping down the length of the counter and watching for Tane's reaction, scoffing.

"Guy's about to get his ass whooped."

Kelly/Tane: Knowing something was caused by magic didn’t take away any of the wonder of seeing it, but Kelly couldn’t even feel it over the profound sense of foreboding.

If Rune knew what was good for him, he’d grab that money fast and get out. The lead Heather wasn’t going to take another humiliation well but he wasn’t going to get the chance to do more than yell if Kelly had anything to say about it.

He could do a lot more damage with his cane than some preppy blowhard could do with a pool cue.

Tane was in a similar boat as Kelly, looking absolutely floored as he pressed the call button on his phone and looked from the pretty boy to Q with an incredulous shake of his head.

Who the hell was this guy?

Rune: The look on everyone's faces was quite similar. Shock, confused, impressed, and furious. All save the blond. His cue stick was placed on the table. Hands up. He just laughed. Everyone was waiting for something and he knew they were. He was seeing red, but managed to fathom a plan in his drunk haze. There was no way this smuggle little asshole had taken his money twice.

"Kay." He finished his drink, raised his hands again, and headed for the door.

Rune remained perfectly still as he watched and waited. That wasn't the outcome he'd expected, and he hated being wrong.

His money was gathered and stuffed in his oversized sweats. At least now he could afford some decent clothes. Maybe a meal. His arms were feeling rather weak.

"Eagle, Jerry, been a pleasure."

Rune turned towards the door and stopped in his tracks.

Oh.

Kelly/Tane: No way that little punk had miraculously found some common sense and was actually walking away. Tane didn’t believe it for one fucking second.

He followed him to the door at a distance, ignoring the looks from the crowd as he spoke to the sheriff. It was better to be safe than sorry, especially when dealing with people that didn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt.

Yeah. Oh.

Kelly didn’t pause. He simply kept walking toward Rune and as soon as he reached him, he would place his hand on Rune’s shoulder with surprising gentleness with the intent to lead the mage toward the door.

Rune: Had it been Kelly's voice all along, or a vague whisper between minds? He stood there, staring, until finally moved by that massive scarred paw.

One question at a time.

"What are you doing here?"

Kelly: Good. Rune wasn’t resisting Kelly’s efforts to get them both out of the bar. That made things a lot easier.

People were quickly losing interest now the show was over, but a few curious souls still threw some looks their way as they made their exit. Like Tane, Kelly ignored them.

“Running an errand.” He nudged the door open with his shoulder and made for his truck.

Rune/Q: Q was certainly watching. The last he had expected was for Kelly to know some random foreign tourist. Evident in the look given to Tane. They could be confused together. He certainly was.

A figure stood in the shadows, leaning against the wall of The Brig with a cigarette between his lips. Of course the blond hadn't left, but he'd expected to catch this man alone. At the very least with one of those fat old fucks.

He knew Kelly Rose. He had enough sense to know he'd be fingered for his retaliation.

The broken-off tree branch he'd been holding was dropped.

Rune was oblivious to the sound, but something had dawned on him in almost the same instant.

"Where the fuck are we going?"

Kelly/Tane: Tane shrugged and shook his head. ‘What the fuck?’ he mouthed.

Kelly wasn’t.

Despite the rain, he managed to catch the soft thud of the branch hitting the ground and turned toward it, immediately spotting the human shape in the darkness.

The blond Heather was well-hidden from most, but not from Kelly. He pinned him there with a look of warning, eyes seeming to glint in the low light for just a moment before he turned away to unlock his truck.

He ignored Rune’s question until they were both inside the truck and the engine was rumbling to life.

“One thing,” he muttered. “I asked you to do one thing and you just couldn’t help it.”

Rune: The figure froze against the wall, pressing his back against the brick as his mind tried to make sense of what he had just witnessed. Delirium came into play long enough for Kelly to throw his truck into drive and put their backs to the bar.

So long as Rune remained in Edenton, this wasn't over. But it was over tonight.

"Tell me where it's written that I have to obey." Knees were brought to chest. "You have nothing to say to me, remember?"

Over a day of fasting, only alcohol in his system was taking its toll. His head lulled back against the seat, refusing to look in Kelly's direction.

"Got my money. Geld maakt mij gelukkig," he snorted.

Kelly: Kelly’s jaw twitched as Rune threw his words back in his face. He knew this had been a mistake. He should’ve ignored the stupid umbrella and left well enough alone. If the damn mage had forgotten it and got sick as a result, that was his problem. He was an adult.

Why the hell did Kelly even care?

“Where are you staying?” He would drive Rune there and wash his hands of this situation once and for all.

Rune: His eyes were closed. He tried to keep his hands at his knees, but they were simply too weak. Seeing Kelly this soon hadn't been his plan. There was no plan. He didn't know what he would have done differently. Might have made an effort to eat. Prevent this pathetic trembling.

"Water," he said, managing to maintain his smile.

"I was fine."

Kelly: That gave him zero helpful information. They were in a goddamn fishing village; everything was near the water.

But rather than play twenty questions, Kelly was just going to take them back to Pete’s. He needed to get back to work anyway.

“Fine, my ass. Your blood sugar’s in hell.”

Rune: "More genever helps." He motioned to the world outside of the truck, but forgot what he was going to say. Something about a wayside. Kelly was a nice distraction.

"My what?"

Kelly: “Your blood sugar. You’re shaking.” Bobby could make him something for dinner if he didn’t want clam chowder. Bobby was good like that.

Rune: "Don't let it go to your head." Another snort. His smile was quick to fade, staring out the window again.

"Wayside," he sighed.

Kelly: Ah, an actual answer. Well, it was too late. Kelly wasn’t turning around so Rune would just have to deal. Eating at Pete’s was cheaper anyway.

“Why would I do that? You’re the one who didn’t eat until your body started to complain.”

Rune: "I had no fucking money, Kelly."

Kelly: “Bullshit. Managed to pay for two drinks just fine.”

Rune: "Had a reason to drink."

Kelly: With no room to comment on that, Kelly chose to keep his mouth shut. It was for the best. Absolutely nothing he was saying was making any damn sense to him and he was starting to get sick of himself because of it.

The rest of the drive back to the pub would be made in silence. If Rune wanted to fuck off once they got there, Kelly wouldn’t stop him. If Rune chose to follow him inside, Kelly would lead him in through the back and to the kitchen.

Rune: The silence was uncomfortable. Downright unbearable and he couldn't think of anything worthwhile to say that wouldn't be met with another denial, another flinch. The same flinch that hadn't left his thoughts since leaving Kelly's house.

The mage sighed, felt for his wallet and sighed again. He should eat. He was here... for some reason. Why didn't Kelly take him to the inn? Why had he taken him at all, and why had he just complied without complaint?

Questions left at the door as he followed quietly into the kitchen.

Kelly/Bobby: “Oh hey,” Bobby greeted as Kelly stepped into the kitchen. He was at the counter putting potatoes through his fry cutter. “Where’d you go?”

“Errand,” said Kelly, gesturing behind him. “This is Rune.”

“Oh!” Bobby’s brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before giving Rune a smile and a nod. “Good to meet you, man.”

“He hasn’t eaten. Mind if he eats in here with you?”

The cook shook his head. “It’s cool. What’ll you have, Rune?”

Kelly excused himself.

Rune: Rune managed a smile, and as with Kelly and Peter, offered his hand to figure out what exactly he was talking to.

Sometimes he wished he hadn't memorized this rote.

"I'm a stray off the streets." In this case, the truth was adjacent. A glance was given to the wolf before dropping his gaze entirely.

"Potato sounds good."

Bobby: Unlike with Kelly and Pete, Rune would find nothing out of the ordinary. Bobby was an ordinary human, in both good health and good spirits.

“Well then you’re in luck! About to fry these up. What you want with them? Got some fish I can fry up for you, got clam chowder, got some leftover clams I can make into a po boy. What are you craving?”

Rune: Rune could have hugged the man had he been more familiar. Nothing against Kelly, but against him completely. A sweet oblivious human was rare in his circles, and to be treasured. Perhaps he was in the wrong for his manner of thinking; little different from a human petting an adorable animal in a pet store.

He wiped at his mouth at the mention of milk. God, please no.

"Salt, pepper, vinegar. How much?"

Bobby: “Ah, worry about that later. Just the fries though, you sure?” Bobby asked as he walked over to the sink and gave his hands a quick wash.

“Not to brag or anything but my po boy making talents are coveted by more than one in this town. Got people trying to steal me away from this place every day.” He nodded toward one of the stools at the counter. “Take a load off.”

Rune: "I'm," he scoffed, shook his head, "so hungry I'm not hungry." That had to make sense to someone who wasn't tortured for the knowledge, surely.

Kelly was right. He needed to eat. Had he gone back to the inn, he would have raided the mini fridge and passed out on the edge of the bed. This was arguably better. Arguably.

Bobby: Bobby nodded sagely. “Dude, I’ve been there. Feels like your stomach is digesting itself. Sucks. But I tell you what. I’m gonna make you these fries and start prep on this sandwich. Guarantee it’ll sound more appealing once your system gets going.”

Rune: "I can take it with me." If he remembered. That is, if he didn't sleepwalk away from his leftovers. Fuck... that might very well be the case.

Rune leaned against the counter, looking around the room as though his solution was somewhere in here. A sigh.

A sense of dread washed over him. Stomach and throat tight and hot. That wasn't the alcohol. An attempt was made to clear his throat.

"Talk to me." Shit. "Um... about this town. Where am I?" he tried to laugh the question off.

Bobby: “Perfect.” He dropped the potatoes in the fryer for their first round, chuckling at Rune’s question.

It wasn’t his first time hearing it by a long shot. Hell, he’d asked it himself more than once.

“You are in Edenton, North Carolina, my friend. It’s not much, just a fishing town, but we’ve got good food and nice beaches.”

Rune: "I saw some... Wayside." Seemed the prettiest place in town, but he was biased for anything nautical-themed.

He looked up, watching the door where Kelly had disappeared. Wondered if he could hear them.

"How long has he been here?"

Kelly/Bobby: “Oh, you staying at the Wayside? Good choice. It’s a real nice place, restaurant’s good too.”

Bobby looked up from the fryer. “Hm? Who?”

Pete’s wasn’t as packed as the Brig, but it was busy enough to keep Kelly occupied and as was his custom, he tuned out everything but the patrons in front of him.

Rune: He had that going for him and had no idea.

"The," knappe mannen beest, "big... fellow. Kelly."

Rune stared at the many bits of linen and paper in his wallet, pulling out the newest crisp twenty, looking to Bobby for confirmation.

Bobby: “Oh, gotcha. Kelly’s been working here about…three years-ish? Somewhere around there.”

Bobby shook his head at the money. “That’s way too much. Wait.” He gave Rune a curious look. “I thought you knew Kelly.”

Rune: So, Peter and Bobby had a consistent timeline. Helped hearing from more than one. Asking the same question again only served as an opening to ask something else.

"Word gets around fast," he scoffed.

Bobby: He shook his head. “It does in a town this size but that’s not why I mention it. Kelly isn’t really what you’d call the social type. He doesn’t have a lot of friends.”

Rune: "That answers if he's always this cheerful."

Rune stared off into space for a moment. The twenty was placed on the counter despite Bobby's protest. He was paying for information. Cheaply.

"Goes hand-in-hand."

Bobby: Bobby chuckled. Rune hadn’t really answered his question but it was fair to assume there was some connection between him and Kelly. Otherwise Kelly wouldn’t have brought him here.

“Pretty much, yeah. He’s prickly but don’t let that fool you. He’s a good guy.”

Rune: He had him hose down in the rain. Brought him into his house. Took care of his clothes. Allowed him a shower. Indulged his persistence. Followed him from one bar to another just to bring him back.

Saying it like that, saying it all together, he was... nice.

Still a prick.

He was staring off into space again.

"Tin man has a heart. Just needs some oil."

But to change the subject, "Smells good."

Bobby: “Believe it or not, what you’re seeing is the Tin Man already oiled. He used to be even pricklier. Downright surly even.”

Bobby beamed with pride as he seasoned the fries and poured them into a basket for Rune. “Damn right it does. Best in town. Eat up.”

Rune: English wasn't his first language. Not even his third, but a few seconds of buffering and Rune smiled, nodding his gratitude for something to eat. The fries could have been absolute trash and he would have moaned.

But what luck, they were perfect.

"What fixed the Tin Man?"

Bobby: “Same thing that fixes everything. Time.” With fries done, Bobby started preparing the clams for Rune’s sandwich.

“Wouldn’t really say he’s fixed though. People aren’t leaky pipes, no one ever gets fixed. He’s just less prickly and speaks in complete sentences now.”

Rune: "I thought therapy and sex fixed everything."

This man, this mortal, he was special, wasn't he? He was... wholesome. Must be the small town mentality.

"Mm."

Bobby: Bobby snorted. “Yeah, those help, too. Doubt someone like Kelly would ever go to therapy though. Doesn’t seem like his thing.”

Rune: "Someone with the same experiences will always be better." But that was just his opinion.

Bobby: “Probably true for a lot of people.” But Kelly? Who could tell, honestly. Man was an enigma and about as forthcoming as a clam.

“Anything you don’t like on your sandwich?”

Rune: "Milk," he snorted. Another glance at the door. This was probably a lost cause. He should head back to the inn and fall asleep with his head over the tub. Maybe a bottle of something strong. He'd certainly earned it.

Bobby: “No milk, copy that,” Bobby chuckled. “I won’t put milk on this. How you feel about mayo and mustard?”

He gave Rune a curious look. Why’d he keep looking at the door? Was he waiting for Kelly to come back?

“Missing someone?”

Rune: "Hmm?" Annoyingly perceptive. Wait, no. He was just thinking. He wasn't missing anything. Or anyone.

"Just mayo." He pointed to a nearby lemon. "And that. You don't have Joppiesaus?"

Bobby: “Dude, I gotta be real, I have no idea what that is.”

But mayo? That he could work with, as well as some lemon juice on the clams as soon as he got them out of the fryer and started to put the sandwich together.

Rune: Bobby was just given an exasperated sigh. Not his fault, but didn't make the cultural differences any less frustrating when it hadn't been his idea.

"Thanks."

Rune crossed the room to the back door to assess the rain.

Kelly/Bobby: The rain had yet to let up, just as Kelly had feared. Calling Tony had been an excuse but he was starting to feel very glad he had as the painkillers he’d taken earlier began wearing off.

When he went to go grab a couple more, he noticed the umbrella still with the rest of his things and realized he hadn’t given it back to Rune like he’d intended. Was the mage even still here? Had to be. No way Bobby was letting him leave without a meal.

Sighing, Kelly entered the kitchen just as the cook was wrapping a sandwich.

“Oh hey,” Bobby greeted.

Rune: Sonofabitch, why had he left the umbrella? Because he thought the rain wouldn't last this long. Just... that. It wasn't his. Maybe hoping Kelly would do exactly what he did.

That was saying too much. That was thinking too much.

But why, of all of the voices in the Wasteland, had he first heard the sound of someone still alive.

Rune was off in his own little world, staring out the door when Kelly returned.

Kelly/Bobby: “Hey,” said Kelly, watching Rune’s back for a moment before crossing to the counter and placing the umbrella on one of the stools without a word.

“There any Gatorade in the fridge?”

Bobby nodded. “Yep and to answer your next question, I did get blue ones. Want a sandwich?”

“Maybe on my break.”

Rune: It was the sound of the umbrella that stole Rune's attention, standing straighter with a soft flinch, looking from the umbrella to its owner.

"What's blue supposed to taste like?"

Kelly/Bobby: Bobby just smiled and shook his head. “They didn’t even bother coming up with a flavor to put on the label. It’s just called ‘cool blue’.”

Whatever it was, it appealed to Kelly. He grabbed a couple of pills from his pocket and downed them.

Rune: "This is where I insert an "Oh, America" joke."

Bobby: “And you’d be right,” Bobby laughed. “We love our artificially colored and flavored beverages. They hit the spot.”

Rune: Rune was staring at Kelly, at where he'd placed his pills, and back to the rain.

"Thanks for the sandwich."

Kelly/Bobby: Kelly, meanwhile, was focusing very intently on the drink in his hand. He didn’t want to catch Rune’s eye lest either he or the umbrella be questioned.

And although the pills had come from Kelly’s pocket, neither he nor Bobby seemed to think very much of it. Casually taking pills in the kitchen seemed rather a common occurrence.

Bobby nodded. “You’re welcome, man. Guarantee you’ll be back for more after trying it.”

Rune: "We'll see."

He looked at the umbrella and back to its owner. Took his wrapped sandwich and tucked under his arm.

The umbrella was taken with some reluctance, unwilling to open indoors. For the last time, he looked at Kelly, wanted to say something... but couldn't imagine anything profound with an audience.

"Goodnight."

Kelly: Only when Rune made to leave did Kelly finally look at him again. The lack of privacy prevented them from speaking openly but would they even if they could?

He didn’t know what to say or if he should say anything at all. A part of him almost resented thinking about that to begin with. He’d done enough, hadn’t he? Rune wasn’t being tossed out with nothing and besides, he could take care of himself.

So why did Kelly feel oddly responsible for him? Just because Rune happened to appear in his yard? That didn’t mean anything.

It didn’t, Kelly repeated in his head as he nodded.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly.

#From the Wastes Into the Rain #nihiladditaenihilperdidi #rune #kellygeorgerose #petegraham #qtraxler #tanelukela

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