#but no salt towards ves

[sleepanonymous]

Look at this twice-broken scarlet dismay Cigarette smile at the end of the day You're a mess, no Falling to pieces at best Throw stones at the mirror

Here's an example of why you should try To distance yourself from the notion of Falling in love so unnecessarily Laid low by thinking it over

Fear has an eight-legged weakness You've got to settle the scores Scream and climb up on a chair You're afraid of what you've become You're afraid of what you've become...

Spinning a web comes with no guarantees With every word that runs under the carpeting My guess is you're getting desperate To hide this stigma of yours Suddenly I understand what you said About having eyes in the back of your head but I just don’t get the way you act like a trap set waiting to spring

Fear has an eight-legged weakness You've got to settle the scores Scream and climb up on a chair You're afraid of what you've become You're afraid of what you've become...

The moral of this story captured at last Under the mouth of an overturned glass And it’s time to stop telling me you've been lied to I already know

Fear has an eight-legged weakness You've got to settle the scores Scream and climb up on a chair You're afraid of what you've become...

ALSO on the subject of spiders, here's a bit from a clickbait article he wrote in 2015. What a jerk 😤 (affectionate).

#lost media #circa 2011 #song arachnophobia #yeah october 2011 #mind = blown #🤯🤯🤯 #ves was a teenager when he recorded and posted this #hearing this one for the first time i was blown away #also i'm 100% on these lyrics this time #because they were in the old video description #except I corrected Cigarrete and Uneccessarily #but no salt towards ves #i couldn't spell in high school either #also spider warning? maybe? #no spiders are actually in this post #except here🕷️

[astrophileous]

Let's Put On a Show

Part 2 of 4 from The Countdown series.

The above image does not indicate the reader's physical appearance.

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: As his undercover life begins, Derek finds that the biggest enemies he has to battle are past memories and resurfaced feelings.

Word Count: 7500-ish

Warning(s): 18+ NSFW CONTENT (minors dni); penetrative sex; vaginal fingering; alcohol consumption; derek might be a little bit of an asshole in certain parts; talks and/or implications of illegal trades (narcotics, firearms, explosives), human trafficking, past trauma (child abuse), reproduction, infertility (mentioned), coercion into sex (not by Derek), attempted rape (not by Derek), degrading nicknames (cocksle*ve—not by Derek), noncon strangulation during sex (not by Derek), physical violence, physical torture, violence against a child; pls lmk if I missed anything

Author's Note: this one is..... y'know what, I'll let you judge by yourself. pls be mindful of the warnings I've listed above. DON'T READ IF YOU THINK ANY OF IT MIGHT BE TRIGGERING. another special mention to @avis-writeshq for beta and for bearing with me 🥺💞 with that said, don't forget to LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG <3

Criminal Minds Masterlist

It was a couple of weeks later when Temples called for another meeting at the factory.

"Everything's set and good to go," Temples informed almost as soon as you had stepped into the threshold. "Derek Miller will be reporting for duty in two weeks."

Temples handed you the tablet containing a digital file filled with documents about Derek Miller's life. You were instantly reminded by the memory of receiving a similar looking tablet, scrolling through the endless documents of the persona you had been living with for the past few years.

"How do you wanna initiate contact?" you asked as you handed the tablet to Derek.

"I called in some favors from Bastoni. He's gonna vouch for Miller," Temples explained. "I trust you can handle the rest?"

You confirmed with a solid nod.

"It's happening," Derek muttered.

"You ready?"

Derek's eyes flew towards yours. "As I'll ever be."

"Good." A gentle breeze blew against your face, as if preparing along for the inevitable storm ahead. "Let's put on a show, shall we?"

"Derek."

Wrapped in your breathy moan, Derek's name was a world-class symphony. The soft expanse of skin glided against his own in a dance that he had known all too well. Above him, you were a goddess reincarnated, writhing for pleasure and setting flames to every nerve-ending in Derek's body.

"Derek, fuck. I'm gonna—"

"I know. I've got you, sweetheart." Derek's arms circled your waist, pulling you close until your chest was pressed against his. "Feel so good around me. Shit."

It took less than a minute for Derek to finally feel you coming undone around him, the sensation of your pulsating walls triggering his own release. Derek kept rutting up against you even as he was emptying himself into the condom, drawing tiny circles on your bundle of nerves and holding you tighter as your body spasmed some more from overstimulation.

Derek's lips brushed a feather-light touch on your cheek, tasting salt where sweat and tears of pleasure had mixed. You got up from his lap as soon as you regained the first bit of strength in your limbs, pretending that your legs weren't on the verge of breaking like sticks as you teetered towards the bathroom.

He was just returning from the kitchen with a bottle of water when you finally re-emerged.

"Let's put on a show," you suggested, now clad in your wrinkled shirt that was buttoned merely halfway.

Derek handed you the bottle before settling back under the duvet. "What do you wanna watch?"

"I don't know. What's on?"

You found your way back easily to Derek's side. It was muscle memory by now, the way you gravitated towards him and the way he'd welcome you easily into his arms. The bedroom lit up in the presence of your giddy smile when you saw one of your favorite Law & Order episodes playing on the TV.

"Hey," Derek spoke after ten full minutes of silence. "A buddy of mine is getting married next week."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"That's great."

"I wanted to see if you'd come with me."

The offer caught you off guard. Derek knew it from the way you tossed your attention so fast from the courtroom scene on the TV and towards him.

"Come with you to the wedding? As... your date?"

"Do you want to come with me as anything else?" Derek deadpanned.

An intangible weight shifted in the atmosphere when you decreased the TV volume all the way to zero. Derek didn't like the way you were examining him at that moment, as if you were trying to find a crack in an otherwise immaculate ornament.

"I thought you were fine with our arrangement the way it is."

"We've never even discussed it. You avoid me every time I try to bring it up."

Your chest swelled around a shaky breath. Derek never thought a few inches could feel like an entire ocean until he stared at the distance between where the two of you were sitting against the headboard.

"You don't wanna do this with me."

"What the hell does that mean?"

There was no mitigating the hostility in Derek's voice. He thought it must have been an act of fortification when you opted to leave the bed and began pacing the room, stepping further and further from him until the previous ocean finally metamorphosed into a freaking planet.

"I can't be somebody's girlfriend, Derek."

He ignored the resonant snap in his chest. "Can't or won't?"

"I won't because I can't. It's complicated. You don't understand."

"Then explain it to me." Derek rose from the bed, erasing the distance that had stolen you away from him. His chest felt thirty pounds heavier as he stood in front of you. "Help me understand. I want to understand. Please."

You sank on the edge of the mattress, with Derek kneeling before you as though prepared to launch himself forward if ever you would need him to. His hand hovered above your knee, dithering and unsure, petrified over the possibility of you pushing his hand—or worse, him—away.

"I've never had anyone in my life aside from my brother. Nobody before you." Derek perched his hand on your thigh at your revelation. "I don't know how to be with someone. How to care for them. How to love. I've been alone most of my life, and I work better that way. I only know how to be alone."

"That's not true," Derek denied abruptly. "You know how to be with me."

"That's different."

"How is that different?"

"Because you haven't needed anything else but sex from me up until now."

Derek faltered in shock.

You didn't think you ever saw him looking so wounded.

"That's what you think? That I've only ever used you for sex?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Sounds like that's exactly what you meant to say to me." Nothing could be more fragile than the voice that roused when he next spoke, "Is it something I said? Did I do something to make you believe that sex was all I wanted from you?"

"No, Derek. Of course not. Dammit, I told you I didn't mean it like that." You ran an agitated hand over your face before continuing, "We've never spent time with each other that didn't start or end with our clothes off. That's how it's always been between us, and I'm okay with that. I'm good at sex. That's why everything has worked out so far. But a relationship?" You laughed sardonically. "I don't know how to do it. What will happen when you need me to be there for you, and I'm constantly letting you down? What will happen when you start needing more than just my body, only to realize there's nothing left inside of me to offer?"

The air thickened around your throat.

You peered up to see whether or not Derek had caught that last bit of slip-up in your extempore speech. You hadn't meant to divulge it. You hadn't meant to articulate your fear so plainly in front of him like that.

What will happen when you start needing more than just my body, only to realize there's nothing left inside of me to offer?

Slowly, as though trying not to startle an easily-spooked rabbit, Derek took a seat right beside you on the bed. The scent of sandalwood attacked your senses instantaneously.

"You have so much to offer than you realize, sweetheart," Derek murmured. "You're every good thing in my life, can't you see?"

You shook your head in rebuttal. "That's the thing. I'm not good, Derek. You can't see it now, but you will eventually."

"Sweetheart—"

"I'm gonna hurt you, you know?" You looked up at him through the pooled tears in your waterlines. Derek decided right then and there that he despised the sight of you crying in front of him. "Maybe not today. Maybe it won't be tomorrow either. But someday, somehow, I will do something—or say something stupid, because that's what I do—and you'll hate me for it."

"That's fucking impossible."

"You don't believe I'm capable of hurting you?"

"No." His hand flew to your face, dragging a comforting thumb on the anxious lines that had embellished your forehead. "I don't believe I'm capable of hating you."

You loathed being at the depot in the middle of the day, especially underneath a scorching summer like this one. It was an uncommon occurrence that you found yourself there while the sun was still out. After all, whatever business was going down in that place called for discreet logistics, and since secrecy was a nighttime affair, you rarely visited the container yard during the day.

Alas, a big package coming in from Bolivia was supposed to arrive one week ago but found itself shipped elsewhere instead. This unexpected hiccup had drowned you in a copious amount of paperwork for days, followed by a substantial scoop into The Big Boss' personal vault. The delay also meant you had to do everything in broad daylight to catch up with the tight schedule on your hands. Kreczmar wasn't happy about the whole ordeal, and frankly, neither were you.

As you stood with your back against one of the disposed wooden crates, you kept an eagle eye on the men unloading the contents of the Bolivia containers out to the yard. There were three in total: two carrying the hottest illegal substances on the market, and another one filled with smuggled explosives and weaponry.

The men were pushing off the last crate from the second container when a figure plopped next to your right.

"We need to talk," Derek announced without so much as a greeting.

"Hello to you too."

You could feel his eyes on the side of your face as he spoke, "I'm stopping by your room later tonight."

"You can't. I'm expecting Kreczmar tonight."

Derek's stare was sweltering on your cheek. Even after the two months he had spent under, Derek couldn't warm up to the idea of your arrangement with Aleksander Kreczmar. In fact, he constantly scorned it at any given chance.

"Fine. I'll stop by after you're done."

"What is this about, Derek?"

"Not now, sweetheart. Later."

You watched as Derek walked away towards the other men, leaving you yearning alone over his retreating back.

In the span of two months, Derek had managed to fit in better than you initially thought he would. Miller the Stiller, they had dubbed him. Derek told you it was because he sent any room into a standstill due to his domineering presence—to which you had rolled your eyes blatantly to his face—but chatter from the back rooms told you that the nickname came from his good looks that, apparently, never failed to render anyone speechless.

As it turned out, Kreczmar's crooks were just as vulnerable to Derek Morgan's charm as the average women were. You didn't blame them. You, too, had fallen victim to that same charm many years ago.

Derek moved with authority among the sea of men, molding into the perfect puzzle piece to slot himself in between Kreczmar's thugs. You watched every inch of his movement like a hawk, stopping only when a rugged voice slashed through your pristine reverie.

"Ghost." Jan Borowicz stood to your left with the same signature frown across his graying eyebrows. His eyes, as always, were uncharacteristically warm for a man of his repute. "Something you should see."

You followed the middle-aged man to the back of another container, where you saw a figure crouching down with a hunched head between their knees. You didn't need to see their face to know who it was.

"Paolo." The 13 year-old looked up at the sound of his name. You rushed over to his side, your hands going straight to the fresh cuts and bruises smeared on the boy's face. "What happened?"

Paolo's eyes flared with fear. The answer you searched for eventually came from Jan, "I saw him with Ralph Grader earlier."

You recognized the name almost immediately. Grader was one of the new recruits from a few weeks ago; a petty thief who worked for one of Kreczmar's smaller branches before being transferred to the headquarters. You hadn't bothered memorizing anything else about the bastard—not even his face—because you thought he would be smart enough to realize his insignificance to never cause any trouble.

Well, you definitely got that one wrong.

"Is that true? Did Grader do this to you?"

Paolo never granted you a verbal answer, but the way he recoiled at the name told you everything you needed to know.

You turned to Jan with a newfound ire in your chest. "Where's Grader now?"

"Unloading with the rest of 'em."

You helped Paolo to his feet before marching over towards where the men were working. Most of them stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw you approaching, Jan and Paolo hot on your heels.

"Grader." Your voice was ice as it traveled throughout the group. "Ralph fucking Grader."

A scuffle at the back of the crowd caught your attention. It was a few seconds later when two of the men appeared in front of you, holding up a scruffy man—whom you could only assume as Grader—between the both of them. They shoved Grader on his knees, earning a rather loud hiss from the bastard.

"Let's not waste anyone's time and get straight to the point, shall we? You know why you're here." You reached for the gun in your holster, pulling it out before aiming the barrel to Grader's forehead. "You're gonna give me the answer I need before I finish counting to three, and I may have just enough mercy to let you keep your life."

"What—"

"One."

"Wait. Wait. Wait a second—"

"Two."

"I don't—"

"Th—"

"Okay! Okay! Fine, I confess!" Grader exclaimed. "It was me. I did that to him."

"You're not fucking stupid. Tell everyone what you did."

Grader trembled like a leaf before your eyes. You could read the forgiveness he sought with his gaze—no doubt similar to the one Paolo had flashed to him before he charged at the boy—and your chest glutted with relish to see the scoundrel grovel at your feet.

"I did it. I beat up Paolo," Grader confessed.

Tension fulminated in the air. Everybody was holding their breath as they waited to see what you would do next: show compassion or assign Ralph Grader an even worse fate than death?

The moment you lowered your gun from Grader's forehead, everyone knew that you had chosen the latter.

"You know what to do," you declared towards the two men—Vin and Al—who had brought Grader to you.

The two of them each grabbed Grader's arm before dragging him away from the scene. You didn't cast a single look towards Grader's direction even when he started pleading for his life.

"You can hold down the fort on your own, yeah?" you asked Jan, to which he gave you a single agreeing nod. "Good. Everyone else, back to work."

The crowd dispersed instantly upon your command.

As you were taking the first step to your leave, your eyes caught Derek's dark ones from the distance. Without another word, you turned around and followed Ralph Grader's drag marks on the ground, shunning the weight of Derek's stare that seemed to bore a hole straight through your skull.

"You okay?" Derek murmured in your ear.

Your answer was a stern nod—one that would satisfy any other person—but Derek Morgan was never any other person to you.

The man didn't hesitate to bid a quick goodbye to the host—claiming that there was an important errand the two of you needed to take care of, despite your incessant complaints—before pulling you along to the lot where his car was parked.

"Are you gonna tell me what's going on?" Derek questioned as soon as the car left the vicinity of Jennifer Jareau's house.

"Nothing's going on."

"You underestimate my ability to read you like an open book."

In the corner of his eye, Derek could see you staring out the window as if the city billboards were playing a non-stop rerun of your favorite movie. JJ's house shrinked in the rearview mirror with every yard the car sped through, and Derek thought he would suffocate in the silence if it continued any further.

He pulled up next to a curb as soon as he saw an empty spot he could park his car in. Confusion pranced in your eyes when Derek grabbed your hands in his.

"Talk to me."

"About what you said to JJ—" you evaded Derek's eyes, choosing to glout at your connected hands instead, "—did you mean that?"

Derek's forehead creased. He tried to pinpoint exactly which conversation with JJ you might have meant.

"About having a baby," you continued before Derek could ask you to clarify.

Understanding dawned on him in an instant.

JJ and Will had called for a merry celebration with the baby shower for their second child. All of Derek's dearest friends were in attendance, and he couldn't think of a more perfect opportunity to have you officially introduced to the team that had been his found family for the past several years. Some of them had met you in passing before, but this was the first occasion Derek could finally introduce you as his.

It was a joyous occasion, and in the midst of it all—after Derek had wished JJ a safe delivery and healthiness for both the mother and the baby—his blonde teammate had eyed the two of you cheekily and blurted out, "You guys are next, right?"

To which he replied without thinking, "Hopefully."

It was a lapse of judgment on his part, but Derek never expected the repercussions to be afflicting you this greatly.

"Hey, look at me." Derek's knuckles brushed against your cheekbone until your eyes leveled with him once more. "Don't take it to heart. I was making lighthearted conversations. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Maybe." You pushed his hand away from your face, and Derek nearly groaned at the loss of contact. "But it's still something you want to do, right? Maybe not now, but later down the road?"

"Sweetheart." Derek tried to coax you into looking at him again, sighing heavily when you refused. "Do you not want kids?"

Derek's question crashed like a sinking ship in the air; slow and painful, catastrophic and dreadful. The firm grip he had on your knee would usually suffice as a life vest, but at that moment, the touch was nothing more than a stack of stones weighing you down even further.

"It's not about what I want."

"What do you—"

"I can't have kids."

There was no concealing the shock on Derek's face.

Out of everything he expected you to say, nothing could have prepared him for that admission. He didn't know how to respond to such a vulnerable confession. The way you were sitting right then, though—pressed against the door with your knees pointed away from Derek, as if you were an impala cornered by a lion—told him that any physical gesture he could present wouldn't be responded in kind.

"How long have you known?" was what Derek ended up asking after a while had passed.

"I think I've always known. It's not that I... I don't... There's no medical reason behind it. It's just something I can't do, Derek. Do you understand?"

He did.

Derek didn't think he could understand anyone better than he understood you at that moment.

As he watched your fingers trifle with the hem of your top, the abstract doodles in his head rearranged into a much clearer picture. He knew, then, that your incapability to have children wasn't caused by any physical factor. You simply wouldn't permit yourself to believe that you were capable of doing it.

It didn't take a genius to understand that this incapability was nothing less than a fear in disguise, stemmed from the years of abuse you had to endure as a child.

Derek hated to be profiling you during times like this, but the skills he had harvested from years on the job didn't exactly come with an off button. He had seen cases like this; where constant disappointment from loved ones gradually evolved into disappointment of one's self. Where the threat of projecting that same disappointment on others often led to drastic measures being taken.

In this case, the fear of turning out like your parents led you to believe that you didn't deserve to be a mother.

And that couldn't be further from the truth.

When Derek tried telling you this, you automatically shut down his attempt.

"Please, Derek. I know what you're trying to say. And I know that technically, you're right. But I just... I can't, okay? This isn't up for debate. I'll never be able to have kids. Not now. Not ever."

The finality of your words was indisputable.

Derek appraised you in its aftermath.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Not now. Not ever," Derek emphasized, grabbing your hand to circle a soothing touch on top of it. "You're in charge here, baby. We won't do anything you don't wanna do. You should know by now that I'd follow you blindly anywhere you lead me to."

"But I thought... Don't you want kids?"

"I want you more." Derek kissed you as though he was foregrounding his promise. The residual apprehension in your body evaporated at the first taste of his lips. "You're all I need, sweetheart."

The sight of your smile awakened something in Derek's chest. As he basked in your luminance, Derek could feel the shape of three little words consolidating inside of him. They frolicked around as if waiting to be said out loud, but Derek bit his tongue before they could slip past his lips.

The three little words could wait.

After all, there would be other opportunities for him to confess his undying love to you.

There were two rapid knocks on the door, a pause, a knock, a pause, and then another knock.

Derek Morgan was at the door.

It was already the third time Derek had ever been in the comfort of your bedroom, but it was the first time he stepped in there so soon after you had just finished your appointment with Kreczmar. The evidence of your time with the crime lord was still palpable in the unkempt state of your bed. Derek never thought the sight of ruffled bed sheets could feel like hot coals being shoved forcefully down his throat, and yet here he was.

"Drink?" you suddenly asked from your place by the liquor table.

There was no chance for him to respond before you thrusted a glass of whiskey in his face.

"It's not poisoned," you quipped after seeing the reluctance in his eyes. "I just got it as a gift. Old Fitzgerald. Good stuff."

Derek's jaw hardened the moment you mentioned the word gift. He didn't need further clarification to guess from whom "the gift" had originated.

"No, thanks." He put down the glass back on the table. "If you don't mind."

"Suit yourself."

The robe you were wearing spread out the second you sat down on the ottoman bench, revealing the naked length of your legs. Derek used to memorize every inch of those limbs better than he could memorize the lines on his palm.

"You said you wanted to talk?" you questioned.

Derek watched as you leaned back against the foot of the bed. Your navel was nearly exposed to him from this new position, but you crossed one of your legs over the other before you could flash him a peek. With the golden drink in your hand, you were the definition of a sinful temptation.

Derek buried his hands in his pockets and looked away. "I'm hearing chatter about a shipment coming in a couple of weeks. It's not listed in any of the existing manifests."

"Have you checked with the ones still awaiting approval?"

"I did. None in there as well."

"Hm. Interesting." You took a sip of your drink, savoring the burn while you lost yourself in contemplation. "Is the intel legit?"

"I heard it from Lascano."

You hummed thoughtfully at the name.

Mateo Lascano was one of Kreczmar's trusted right-hand men, though you'd argue that his loyalty resembled that of a guard dog just to see the man tremble with rage. You never liked the guy, and fortunately for you, the feeling was very much reciprocated. He harbored a nasty gash on his left cheek courtesy of your pocket knife from that one time he had challenged you to a spar after questioning your competence in front of Aleksander Kreczmar himself.

The taste of victory from that day was still sweet on your tongue, even underneath the bitter note from the whiskey you were nursing.

"He's an asshole, but his words do warrant some substance." You rose from your seat and headed for the liquor table to top up your glass. "I'll see what I can find out about it from Kreczmar."

"You think that's wise?"

"Why wouldn't that be?"

"He may get suspicious."

"I have my own ways with him. Trust me."

Derek's fists clenched against his sides.

You should have known by now that Derek's objections were never a matter of trust. He might still be leery about trusting you with his heart, but there was no question whether or not he would trust you with his life. Derek knew you would dive in front of a bullet for him if given the chance; a sentiment he both shared and requited in kind.

He did, however, have a strong disapproval of your so-called ways of handling things with Kreczmar.

"What's your plan, sweetheart? Fuck the bastard until you loosen his tongue?"

The drink in your hand stopped swirling. The glass fell with a loud thump when you slammed it back on the table.

"What the fuck is your problem?!"

"My problem?" Derek gritted his teeth. He stalked forward as though you were a convenient prey, blocking every possible exit until the only respite you were left with was the wall against your back. "You want to know what my problem is?!"

The next thing you knew, Derek had gripped your robe in his hand, yanking on the collar until you let out a reflexive shriek.

"This—" Derek began, his voice suddenly taking on a more gentle edge, reiterated by the touch he brushed against your neck, "—is what my fucking problem is."

You didn't need to look in the mirror to know what Derek was seeing in his eyes; to know what kind of marks you would glimpse if a reflection of you were to spawn in the middle of the room at that exact same second. After all, those bruises on your neck were pretty much identical to the ones that had tarnished your skin so many times prior. They always appeared in the ugliest splotches of blue, red, and purple, encircling your throat in the shape of Aleksander Kreczmar's hand.

You flung Derek's hands away before securing the robe tightly around yourself. There was a reason you liked that robe. It covered up your dirty little secret from any prying eyes.

Except for Derek's.

"How long has it been going on?" he asked.

You couldn't answer him.

What would Derek do if he found out that Kreczmar had been hurting you that way for as long as you had known the man?

The first time it happened, you hadn't seen it coming. Kreczmar left you gasping for air in the middle of your bed as soon as he was done, paying not even the slightest attention to the fact that you had nearly lost your life in his hand.

After numerous times going through the same thing, though, you eventually managed to learn how to ensure your survival by the time Kreczmar was done having his way with you.

It was a fucked up situation in an equally fucked up life. You made your peace with it a long time ago. This was merely an occupational hazard that you needed to learn to live with.

When you told Derek as much, the man proceeded to glower.

"Occupational hazard? That's all your life amounts to you? A fucking occupational hazard?!"

"What the hell do you want me to do here, Derek?"

"To stop being stupid, that's what."

"Stupid?" That single word was a blade through your chest. Red, fiery anger filled the gaping wound it left behind with every second that ticked by. "You're calling me stupid for doing my fucking job?!"

"It's not your job to offer yourself up as a punching bag for that bastard!"

"Yes, it is! My God, Derek. Of course, it is. You and I both know that it's part of the job description. It's a sacrifice I have to make for the greater good."

"And I'm telling you right now that you don't need to make that sacrifice. Nothing is worth putting yourself up as a sacrifice." Derek's voice fizzled to a low murmur, leaking desperation where his previously intact vigor had been punctured. "There are other ways to do this, sweetheart. I can help you find another way."

"Another way? You don't think I've thought of that after more than four years in this hell hole? Do you seriously think that letting myself be used by Kreczmar, keeping my life and my body at his disposal, was my first fucking choice?!"

Derek couldn't hide the physical reaction he had at your words. He couldn't help it. The thought of what Kreczmar had done and could do to you pained him more than what any type of injury could inflict on his body.

The man saw your knees buckle, but he could only watch you fall onto the edge of the bed after you smacked his hands away when he sprung forward to help. Derek swallowed down the bile in his throat. In front of him, your shoulders drooped as if Atlas himself had bequeathed his burden for you to bear.

"Miller the Stiller. That's what they call you, right? Tell me, who came up with the name?"

Derek frowned at the unexpected question. "Why?"

"Just fucking answer me, Derek."

"It was McCloskey."

"Justin McCloskey?" The scoff that fell from your lips echoed in the heated room. McCloskey was a drunk and a pervert who constantly begged to have his mouth taped shut. It didn't surprise you to find out that he had been the one responsible for Derek's nickname. After all, assigning nicknames to other people seemed to be one of his favorite downtime activities. "Do you know the story of how he lost the tip of his pinky finger?"

Derek could hear the blood surging in his veins. "Did you do that to him?"

"I did. Right after he tried to rape me." You rose from the bed languidly, as if you didn't just drop a bomb that obliterated every piece of Derek's whole sanity, and headed back to the liquor table to snatch the drink you left behind. "He wasn't the first. Others had groped me, sneaked into my room when I wasn't looking. McCloskey just happened to pull the short end of the stick. He used to make everyone call me a cocksleeve, did you know that?"

Of course not. Derek had no way of knowing it, and you knew that. Still, you let the question hang in the air out of pure spite.

"Those same people who worship your ass now, Derek, are the same dickheads who used to treat me like garbage. What I did to McCloskey didn't even hinder them. It wasn't until Kreczmar implied his claim over me did those bastards finally leave me alone." You ambled back towards the bed, now with a much-needed drink in hand, before sitting back down on the soft mattress. "I know you think that I brought myself into this situation, and you're right, I did. But only because it was the only way for me to survive."

A temporary silence settled in the room. Derek allowed it to simmer because he didn't know what to say.

"We're stuck in the same game but in two completely different playing fields, Derek." You smiled ruefully. "I didn't have the luxury to pick my own battles as you obviously do. If being known as The Big Boss' side piece was the only way for me to get my foot in the door, then I was completely willing to do it. It took me four years to garner the same amount of respect that you've gained after being here for only two months. So don't talk to me about finding another way, because whatever it is you can think of, I've done it. Believe me."

With everything off your chest, you gulped the remaining drink in the glass, savoring the burn it ignited all the way down your throat. The pressure solidifying in your ribcage traveled to your head at an agonizing pace. You closed your eyes to brace yourself for the incoming headache.

It felt like hours later, when in reality, it must have been mere minutes when you eventually heard the first shuffle of feet. Even without opening your eyes, Derek's presence was incontestable as it circled your bedroom. Your ears followed his movements until he stopped by the bed, directly in front of where you were sitting.

Gentle fingers hooked themselves beneath your chin, tugging upward and urging your eyes to open once more.

"What are you doing?" you asked as Derek sat down next to you. In his hand was a bottle of ointment that you had previously stored on the vanity table.

"May I?" Derek asked as his other hand reached forward, skimming above the neckline of your robe without actually touching. "Please."

Two frail nods from you were the only confirmation that Derek needed.

His touches were butterfly wings against your skin. They fluttered until the left sleeve of your robe pooled around your elbow, revealing your shoulder and decolletage, dangerously close to where the curves of your breast began.

When he rubbed the fragrant ointment on the odious bruises specking your neck, your chest deflated in an exhale.

"Does it hurt?" Derek asked.

You shook your head no.

In fact, Derek's ministrations were the exact antonym of pain. He handled you as if you were porcelain, infused with fragility and in need of utmost care. You couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched you that way—so tender and loving, without an ounce of malevolent intention buried underneath—but you were willing to bet that it had also been Derek who gave you those last few soft touches before you were rammed into this belligerent life.

You were lost in the rapture, only realizing that a moment had gone by when Derek finally shook you back to reality.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Your responding sigh was music to his ears. "Don't stop."

Who was he to deny the plea of a reincarnated goddess, anyway?

Instead of withdrawing after he was done applying the ointment, Derek opted to lean in, kissing every patch of contusion and condemning the abysmal memories tied to it away. A flicker started in the pit of your stomach for each one of his kisses, but once Derek slid further down your body, those same flickers turned into fireworks that erupted in tandem with the drag of his lips.

"Derek—"

He shushed you against your collarbone. "I'm sorry for what I said, sweetheart. Let me make it up to you. Let me make you feel good, hm?"

You were barely able to nod before he lurched forward and tugged your robe further down.

You couldn't quell your moan when Derek's mouth latched onto your nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud until you felt it standing taut. Your other breast became the object of his fingers' attention as they toyed with it, squeezing and massaging before his mouth decided to switch places between the two.

After he successfully transformed you into a panting mess, Derek pulled back and captured your lips in a desperate kiss.

It thrilled you, peculiarly, to find that Derek's lips tasted just the same as you had remembered it. Not only were his kisses the same, but the way he handled your body like a fiddle was also the same. You lost yourself deeper in the abyss of Derek Morgan, surprised to find yourself volunteering to dive deeper into him even when you knew consequences would be waiting for you once you decided to resurface.

With a heaving breath of his own, Derek murmured against your lips, "Tell me to stop."

"No."

"Good." He pressed you back until you were lying on the bed. "Because I'm gonna worship you exactly like you deserve."

At the first stroke of his thumb over your clit, you couldn't do anything else but mewl.

Derek teased your bundle of nerves while keeping loyal attention to the gasps you let out and the tics in your countenance. Your hands gripped his biceps tighter with each swipe across your clit, feeling the arousal pool bigger in your belly, but also noting it from the obscene sound of your wetness on Derek's fingers.

When he started to prod around your entrance, you couldn't contain the loud moan from spilling past your lips.

"Fucking hell, sweetheart," Derek muttered once two of his fingers were sheathed inside. "So warm and wet. This all for me?"

"All for you, Derek. Please, please, I need you to—"

"Hm? What do you need, baby?"

"Move." As if emphasizing your plea, you ground yourself down against his hand. "Please, need you to move."

With a kiss on your temple, Derek pulled his fingers back out—marveling the way your wetness coated them—before plunging the digits back inside and curling them against the spot that knocked the breath straight out of your lungs.

It didn't take long for Derek to find his rhythm, pushing you further to the brink of exultation with encouraging whispers against your cheek. You clawed at his face to pull him closer—as though his whole body wasn't caging you in already—and despairingly seized his lips in a kiss. Derek welcomed you with a groan, swallowing the needy sounds you made as his sensual ministratration picked up its pace.

"So good... Derek, please—"

"I know, sweetheart." Derek's fingers inside you never relented. He angled his hand slightly without ever leaving your heat, letting the heel of his palm smother your clit until you cried out in delight. "Can feel you squeezing me. Shit. Gripping me like a vice, baby. You'd feel so good around my cock."

Derek's words triggered another loud moan from deep within your throat. The thought of him driving into you only spurred on your arousal. This newfound excitement wasn't lost on Derek. He could tell that you were close from the way your walls were drawing him deeper.

"C'mon, sweetheart. Wanna feel you cum for me."

"Oh my God, Derek—"

"I know, baby. That's it. Gonna make you feel so good. Let it go, sweetheart."

The coil in your belly finally snapped. It jostled you into the pit of pleasure where your whole body convulsed in euphoria. Derek embraced you through it all, mollifying you with his voice, touch, and kisses, never once stopping until you were finally back down on earth.

"Where are you going?" you rushed out almost forlornly, raking the hem of Derek's shirt when he started to get up from the bed.

He smiled at your clingy display. "I'll be right back. Promise."

Derek returned less than two minutes later with a small towel in grasp. He cleaned you up carefully, his touch never a breadth too wide or an inch too deep as the towel swept over the skin of your inner thighs.

You extended your palm when he was done, and Derek accepted it happily with a kiss.

"It doesn't hurt," you said once you saw him fixated on your scraped knuckles. "You should see the other guy."

Derek brushed entirely past your lame attempt at a joke. "I did. I saw Vin and Al carrying Grader to the med ward."

"I know you don't approve of my methods—"

"If anyone had it coming, it's Grader. Especially after what he did to Paolo." The mental image of the boy's blackened eye made you shudder. "You care a lot about that kid."

It was an understatement rather than anything else. Everyone within ten feet could see how you regularly doted on the boy. Derek knew it was because Paolo reminded you of yourself; shoved into a life of violence too early in his youth, stripped of the childhood he so profoundly deserved. You never even hesitated to adopt the protector mantle for the boy, because in a lot of ways, it was something you wished someone would have done for you when you were a child.

"I know you used to have reservations about kids—" Derek continued, "—but I've seen you with Paolo. You're good with him."

"Right. Because I'm such a champ when it comes to being a good influence, right?" You rolled your eyes, skittering to sit on the edge of the bed and wrapping your body with the robe still on your back. Derek followed you silently. "I threatened a man at gunpoint in front of his eyes, Derek. You can't possibly say that witnessing something like that isn't gonna fuck him up for the rest of his life."

"Maybe not. But you're making this life less grueling for him, and that's something."

"I don't like where this conversation is going."

You stood up from the bed then, walking towards the windows of your room and popping them open to let the evening breeze in. When you spun around to face Derek on the bed, you had your arms folded defensively across your chest.

You were hiding again.

Two steps forward and three steps back.

That seemed to be the only thing Derek was capable of when it came to you.

"The incoming shipment," you began nonchalantly, as though Derek hadn't just made you orgasm until you could see stars mere minutes earlier. "What's your theory?"

Derek inhaled a deep breath before answering, "Gotta be something valuable if he goes to such lengths to keep it lowkey, even to the point of hiding it from you."

"More valuable than bombs and machine guns?"

"Precisely. Something that would make him a lot more money than those two combined."

"What? Like missiles?" Your eyes widened when realization bloomed in your head. "People. That's what you're insinuating, isn't it?"

"It makes sense, and it explains why you've never caught wind of any trafficking activity even to this day."

"They can't be using the depot, then. Too many witnesses. They must have another facility where they detain those people."

"Somewhere secluded but easy to control," Derek agreed. "And most likely, you know where it is."

"Me? What are you talking about?"

"Kreczmar profiles as a classic egotistical sociopath. It's not in his nature to do things quietly. He would want to boast, and you're the person in his life he'd want to do it to the most." Derek got up from the bed once he finished his statement. His stature somehow grew more officious as he stood in the middle of your room. "Think, sweetheart. You know the answer. You've had it all these years. You just didn't know that it was right there in front of your eyes."

Derek gauged every micro-expression zipping past your face. The wrinkle on the bridge of your nose was concentration, and the frenetic darting of your pupils was your mind flipping through the pages of memories about Aleksander Kreczmar. When your earnest gaze found his, Derek knew that it must have been the light bulb appearing right above your head.

"His guesthouse."

"Kreczmar has a guesthouse?"

"Well, a guesthouse might be a bit underwhelming. It's a freaking mansion that stands in the middle of at least two acres of land. He'd host parties there. Entertain important overseas guests or clients anytime they come by. He'd take me to the woods at the back of the property sometimes, and then he'd... well—" You cleared your throat and looked away. Derek didn't need to hear the rest of that sentence to know what you meant. "Secluded but easy to control. That's what you said, right?"

"Yeah." There was no guarantee that the guesthouse would end up being the place you were looking for, but Derek still deemed it necessary to pursue the lead. "We need to check the place out asap. Think you can set something up as a cover?"

"Don't need to, 'cause it must be your lucky day, Mister." The corner of your lips slanted upward, giving Derek a front row view of your pretty smile. He had to fight off the urge to march over there and taste the smile directly on his lips. "Kreczmar's throwing an exclusive party there in three weeks."

"He is?"

You nodded. "And it looks like you just got yourself an invitation."

Taglist is open. Leave a comment or send me an ask to be added!

Taglist: @citrusiove @kneelforloki @prentissim @bunbunbl0gs @lubunnii @alluring-andrayav @sammyrenae68 @burkayyy

#derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x fem!reader #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #shemar moore #shemar moore x reader #spencer reid #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia

[abbysleftbicepp]

What Did I Ever Do To You

A post outbreak day abby x fem reader.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, fluff, swearing, I can’t think of anymore so lmk if I missed them!

Part 2! Read part 1 here.

When you arrived to your room, Nora was nowhere to be seen. She was probably out on another night shift. You kicked your slippers off and climbed into bed, hoping you could sleep away any thoughts that would come to you. Unfortunately, you were restless. More and more memories of Boston filled your brain, making it hard for you to sleep.

~flashback~

What do you mean they're dead?!" You yelled at Marlene, top firefly in Boston QZ.

She had found you in the hideout after she found Ellie and Riley in the mall.

Riley was with us. She wasn't dead while she was gone. She must have payed Ellie a visit and then took her to the abandoned mall. I found them both infected, I had no choice but to shoot them." She explained with a somber tone.

Your heart shattered into tiny pieces. Riley and Ellie were the only people you had after your parents were killed by fedra.

"I don't fucking believe you. They can't be..dead." Tears fell from your eyes as Marlene wrapped her arms around you. "It's okay. You can come with us, we're going to the Salt Lake City outpost. There are other kids your age, I'm sure you'll settle in just fine." She announced, soothing you by rubbing your back. You felt weak. Nothing made sense anymore, why would they go to the mall without you? Why would that just leave you out? At least you would have died with them if they only took you.

el°ve already sent one of my people to grab your belongings, we're leaving tomorrow night. You can either stay the night here in your hideout or you can come with me to our safe zone." She explained softly.

"I think I'll stay here tonight. Are you going to pick me up tomorrow?" You ask, wiping your tears.

"Yeah I'll send a group to collect you a few hours before we head out." She finished before walking out the door.

~end of flashback~

It had been an hour since you'd returned to your safe place, but you were restless. The thoughts of Ellie and Riley couldn't leave your head, you hated them for not including you, but you couldn't hold it against them.

You dragged yourself out of bed, deciding you were gonna go on a short walk around the settlement to clear your mind. Putting on your shoes, and grabbing your Walkman, you headed out the door.

A few minutes passed when your head collided with someone's back, knocking you to the floor and breaking your Walkman.

"Ow-..shit!" You yelled, scurrying to your now smashed Walkman.

"No no no no no!" You said, trying to hold yourself together. You still didn't know who knocked you over. You picked up the pieces of the beloved Walkman and stood up, facing the girl who you bumped into.

Calm down it's just a Walkman, can get you another." Abby spoke.

"Just a Walkman.?! Abby this has sentimental value. Nothing can replace it to me." You whisper yelled, trying not to wake up the whole WLF. Your voice was wobbling as you tried to keep your cool in front of Abby.

"I don't understand what your fucking problem is. You spat, walking back towards your room.

Before you knew it, you heard footsteps behind you.

For fuck sake Abby can you not take a hint?" You spat again, stopping in your tracks.

“Y/n just wait please..” Abby spoke, sincerity laced in her voice.

"What do you want?" You asked, clearly pissed off.

“I’m sorry." She started. You're joking, right?

“Just leave me alone..” you demanded, your voice wobbling as you ran back to your room and cried yourself to sleep.

~flashback~

“Y/n!! Hey. Riley is waiting for us at the hideout. We have a surprise for you!” Ellie announced in a sing-song voice, dragging you by the hand. “Cmon! We don’t have all day.” She said impatiently.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” You giggled, following Ellie. When you arrived, all the lights were off and Ellie was navigating you around with your eyes closed.

“What’s going on els?” You asked, clearly confused.

“Shhh just trust me okay.” Ellie replied.

When you finally arrived to the main room of the hideout, you saw a birthday cake on the table, lit up with candles.

You covered your mouth as you gasp, you couldn’t believe they did this for you.

“Happy birthday!! We’re not gonna sing because we know how awkward that would be. Hurry up and make a wish so we can give you your gifts!” Riley said confidently.

“Gifts?” You asked, surprised.

“Hurry!!” Ellie yelled with excitement.

Once you blew out the candles, Riley turned the lights back on and they both handed you a present each, both wrapped up in old Christmas paper.

“I cant believe you both. You’re too kind.” You said, trying to not get emotional. You opened Riley’s first, revealing an old, but working, Walkman. You started jumping around happily, before hugging Riley and thanking her.

“Open mine now!” Ellie hurried you.

“Okay okay okay.” you giggled.

You opened her present to reveal a cassette, which you could play on the Walkman.

“No way! Is this queen?!” You gasped. You hugged Ellie, thanking her and Riley took the cassette and Walkman, connecting it to a speaker.

“How about we have some more fun?” She smiled before playing the first song; Bohemian Rhapsody. You all sang along, dancing. You had no care in the world in that moment, for you were the happiest you’d been in a long time.

~end of flashback~

There was a light tap at your door, shaking you from your sleep. Groaning, you dragged yourself out of bed and opened the door, immediately rolling your eyes.

“What do you not understand about the words ‘leave me alone’ abby?” You asked frustratedly.

“I just need to apologise and explain myself. I’ve been a really shitty person to you for no reason and i am not okay with myself because of it. It’s not fair for you, or anyone around us who has to listen. Just please, hear me out.” She begged, sincerity laced in her voice.

You sighed, interested in what she had to say before letting her in.

“Whatever you have to say, you better make it quick. I’ve gotta help out at the nursery in an hour.” You explained, sitting down and signalling for her to sit too.

“So why have you been such a dick to me since I got to Salt Lake City?” You asked.

“I was intimidated by you.” She said, not looking you in the eyes.

“Intimidated? Elaborate.” You demanded.

“You had lost so much in such a short amount of time, yet you had such high spirits. When you arrived to the outpost, Marlene explained your situation and asked me to befriend you. But when I met you, I felt intimidated by how strong you were mentally. I envied your cope, I envied your way with knowledge and i guess to make it go away, I had to push you away.” She explained slowly, to try and leave room for you to understand.

“When my dad died, I was in bits. I didn’t understand how you could move on so fast from your friends back in Boston, I’m still not over my dad and I’ve already gotten my revenge.” She spoke, finally looking you in the eye.

“I put on a mask Infront of everyone. It was a fresh start, I didn’t need my emotions to get in the way. Behind the scenes I was drowning in my own tears every night. It’s not so bad anymore but I still miss them a lot, and I still can’t allow myself to forgive them for leaving me.” You spoke. Abby’s face softened into a sympathetic, worried one.

“I am so sorry for how I’ve treated you. It probably didn’t help your grief, and it definitely didn’t help your mind. Me being a dick was the last thing you needed. I am truly sorry.” She spoke.

This was a side of Abby you had never seen before, she spoke with so much care and adoration in her voice, and there weren’t any snarky comments or sarcasm. It was all true to her mind.

“I can’t erase what I have caused and I don’t expect you to forgive me now, or ever. I just hope that one day we can maybe be friends? And start over?” She asked softly, looking in your eyes with care and concern.

“I’d like that.” You replied.

——————————————————

Tysm for reading part 2! This was mainly flashback based, but I feel like it was necessary for your backstory. Part 3 will hopefully be out before the end of the week. Lmk if you wanna be tagged! 🫶

Also, they have gotten rid of the gif I used :{

Tag list:

@lia-winther @paqerings @littlegingerperson2 @gaptoothedlesbo

#abby x reader #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby the last of us #the last of us #post outbreak abby #enemies to lovers #ellie williams

[lunarmoonanons]

A Lit Ember

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

The day YN was born, neither of her parents could believe she truly existed. That they created this little girl. YN Velaryon. 

Side Story to Fire and Salt but not part of the main story. 

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

Masterlist 

Rhaenyra grunted and cried out, begging the gods for a healthy baby. She had gotten pregnant a year after her marriage to Laenor, and had only accomplished one night of bedding with him. A night that involved tears, and him needing to pretend she was Joffery for him to finish. In truth Rhaenyra did not know if Laenor was her child’s father, or if it was Ser Harwin who had proven himself capable of not only finishing with only the thought of her, but also had proven to be a miraculous lover. Rhaenyra’s thoughts of Ser Harwin and Laenor were forgotten when she felt another quickening of pain and pressure on her pelvis. 

The babe was coming quick. Her labors seeming to last only hours, and the birth was happening in under an hour. Rhaenyra focused on the grip from her maid’s hand, trying to find an anchor to hold onto. There was liquid sliding down her thighs, and a weight dropping from her womb. Rhaenyra pushed, thankful for the weight of the babe that made the process easier for it to come out. And in under an hour, a little girl came into the world and screamed with healthy lungs. Rhaenyra smiled and held out her arms for the crying girl. 

“Oh my little one, my little girl.” Rhaenyra smiled and sobbed. Looking over her round flat nose, white tufts of curls that were matted to her scalp, and red skin that was covered in blood and fluids. She felt another stab of pain and handed the babe off so that she could push out the afterbirth and the cord could be cut. Once it was all done, she almost didn’t notice the messenger enter the room. 

“My… My apologies Princess but the Queen would like to see the baby. Now.”

Rhaenyra looked incredulously at the man, but resolved to go anyway. Picking up her child she stammered toward the door, kissing the forehead of her baby. It felt like miles to get to the Royal chambers, and her feet felt like they were going to stumble out. Suddenly her arm was held by her own champion, Ser Harwin. His duties must;ve been finished or haven’t started, but he came to her rescue like she always knew he would. 

“Congratulations.” He whispered, eyes flickering down to the baby. “What a triumph for you and Ser Laenor.”

“I’m sorry she’s not-”Rhaenyra stuttered, but stopped when another pain shot between her legs. “Do… Do you know where Ser Laenor is?”

“I saw him last with a knight from the Stepstones.” Harwin tried to assure her. Lifting her slightly to help her balance. “We’re almost there princess.” 

Once they made it to the chambers, Rhaenyra smiled at her knight dismissing him so that she could face the queen alone. But it appeared she wouldn’t as Laenor ran up from behind to hold Rhaenyra’s hand. He was out of breath and looked like he ran several miles to catch up. 

“Rhaenyra! Why are you out of bed? I’m sorry I missed it but I came as fast as I could as soon as I heard-” Laenor tried to explain, holding Rhaneyra’s arm, she pulled away and went through the door. A shocked looking Alicent turned to face her. 

“Rhaenyra! I-”

“Here she is. You so desperately wanted to meet her.” Rhaenyra held her child out slightly. Alicent swallowed down her response and looked at the baby, whose skin had cooled from a red hue to a light brown.

The tense situation cooled when Viserys ambled into the room. Smiling at his daughter and the bundle in her arms. “Rhaenyra! Dear one! I’m so happy to see you both well.” He peeked at the baby’s face and poked her nose gently. “She has your nose Ser Laenor. Don’t you think Alicent?”

“Yes. She’s quite the beautiful girl.” Alicent agreed. Heading out to find her own baby, Aemond. 

Rhaenyra smiled when her father kissed her hair, smoothing his hand up and down her back. She held the girl close to her, patting her back to hush her cries for milk. 

“Have you decided on a name?”

“YN.” Rhaenyra smiled, hoping her grin covered her exhaustion. 

“A lovely name. My sweet girl, you will be quite a woman when you grow up.” Viserys smoothed the baby’s forehead with his finger. “Go back to your rooms, dear one. Rest. You’ve earned it.”

Rhaenyra nodded and left, followed close by Laenor and held up by Ser Harwin. Once back in her rooms, her knight helped her to a chair and handed the girl to her father. Laenor couldn’t stop smiling at his daughter. Swaying back and forth as he hummed to the little baby, Laenor felt he couldn’t stop looking at her. She was just so small and so beautiful. 

“My little Sea Snake, my sweet YN. I can’t honestly believe you exist.” Laenor gave a breathy laugh, looking to Rhaenyra with teary eyes. Ser Harwin gave a tight smile and patted him on the back before he left the room to allow the parents to bask in the glow of their new daughter. 

“I can’t believe she exists either. Since that night… you haven’t wanted to try again.” Rhaenyra sighed and smiled at the sight of her husband holding her daughter. “Do you think we might try.. again?” 

That made Laenor stop his movements and a look of fear crossed over his face. “Oh Rhaenyra.. I can’t. Please, I don’t want to do that again. Please I-”

“We need a boy as well, Laenor. We can’t just have one child.” 

“I won’t do it again.”

“I’m sorry I disgust you that much.” Rhaenyra scoffed, reaching for her daughter and frowning when Laenor held her closer. 

“It’s not that, you know it. I can’t be with a woman. I barely was able to finish the one time we succeeded.” Laenor argued back. “Can't we just accept the miracle that is our daughter and leave it at that? Why not have a child with another man?”

“Perhaps I will. If you can’t seem to measure up to the task.” Rhaenyra bit, standing up to grab her daughter from his arms. “You call yourself her father but you couldn’t even show up for her birth.”

“I said I was sorry for that.” Laenor sighed. “I don’t want to fight here. Not in front of our daughter. Can we perhaps talk about this later?”

“Fine. Go. I need to feed YN.” She watched him leave and then unbustled the front of her dress. Bringing her daughter to her breast so that she could feed. YN latched on quick and stared up into her mother’s eyes. Rhaenyra smiled and ran her finger up and down YN’s smooth cheek. Patting YN’s underside and humming a soft tune. She was so tiny and so beautiful. Rhaenyra agreed with Laenor, in that she couldn’t believe YN actually existed. 

She did somewhat regret snapping at Laenor. It was a harsh night for her as well when YN was conceived. But now she had a beautiful baby girl to show for it. Rhaenyra stared lovingly into her eyes, swearing to all the gods that she would adore and cherish this baby. She would be her daughter, her little love. 

“You will have all my heart, my little love. My dear YN.”

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd #house velaryon #house targaryen #velaryon reader #poc reader #woc reader #laenor valeryon #rhaenyra targaryen #ser harwin

[foxydivaxx]

Gossip Girl: Bad Romance Chapter 4

Sanji is gonna drop a huge bombshell here. Warnings: mentions of rape and sexual assault

Arise and shine Upper Eastsiders. Today is the D-Day. The court showdown between Judge Vinsmoke and the Pudding family vs S. Besides the obvious court drama that will unfold, everyone wants to catch a proper glimpse of S and Z. Like what are they gonna wear to court especially S? S serves cunt every single day on a good day. The only time he did not do that was during these past eventful months. Seems like things are about to change now that he and Z have kissed and made up.

All we have gotten so far are the various paparazzi photos that have made it online and in tabloids. S and Z have not updated their social media platforms yet, probably to protect their privacy, or at least part of it. Y’all know that this couple are the most dramatic people on the planet when they choose to be, especially S. 

I smell a civil war because E and SU’s faction are not pleased by all this. Like, why would S and Z steal the spotlight from them, right? Unfortunately, no one, like no one are as badass as the Royal Couple. Ah yes, that is what the media has started calling them and it suits them tbh. 

Loads of fans are waiting outside the courtroom. They have been out here for the past few weeks now, actively campaigning for S. You can thank S’s siblings for that as they have been speaking up on his behalf during those dark times. His poor mother who has been ill for the past couple weeks has decided to show up at court today. The woman be looking fly and amazing with her beautiful red dress. I now know where S gets the dramatics and sass from. It is from her. His siblings are here too and also LE too plus S’ adoptive father and uncle. They are all out for blood this time.

Wait….is that Z’s limo I see there? Looks like the Royal Couple have arrived. May the games begin!!

XOXO,

Gossip Girl

Sanji takes in a deep breath as the limo gets closer to the courthouse. Zoro takes his hand and gives him a reassuring look. Sanji smiles a bit. Good thing he was wearing his signature black shades and he was looking hot in his burgundy suit. He does not want anyone to see the fear in his eyes. His biological father had instilled enough fear into him and the hearts of the rest of the family. Part of what led him down that dark path was him trying to come to terms with what had happened to him.

He refused to several years to properly confront the old bastard. That shit ends together. Once they pull up at the court. “Ready?” Zoro asked. Sanji nods. “Lets do it.”

Once the door opens, Sanji immediately puts on his old confident mask. The fans start screaming once they see him. Zoro takes Sanji’s hand and helps him out of the limo. Sanji smiles and waves at the fans. 

As soon as Lelouch spots him, he runs towards him and hugs his former bandmate who grins and hugs him back. “Aww good to see you Lelouch.” Lelouch was wearing a black suit. “Anything for you man. I mean, you gave me a career so it is only fair to support you.” he says. Sanji would have teared up because all this love is overwhelming. 

“Hi bro.” Ichiji and the rest of the Vinsmoke siblings join them. Yonji pats his older twin on the back. “You will be fine. We;ve got your back.” Sora hugs her son. “Go get em Sanji.” Sanji grins. “I will mum.” Zeff grins and gives Sanji the thumbs up. 

The group are directed to the courtroom. The criminals are all in orange jumpsuits and give Snji hateful looks. Not just them. Sukuna, Eren and their cronies were there too with similar nasty looks on their faces. Normally, Sanji would tremble in fear. Not today bitches.

Sanji gives them a ghost of a devilish smirk as he walks over to the front with Zoro at his side. Oh look at them. Poor unfortunate souls. I think they are on the same level as me. Yeah right. Zoro notices and places an arm around Sanji’s waist and whispers, “Man the salt is real.”

Sanji chuckles. “They asked for it.” He then takes his seat and waits for the case to begin. Soon the proceedings begin. Sanji watches as his father tries to lie his way out of the situation. “It’s true. I can never harm my children.” He shoots the man a scathing death glare which made him to slightly cower in fear. How dare he lie? Either way, he will make sure he and the rest of them pay.

Soon it was his turn. “Can Mr Sanji Bernard take the witness stand?” Game time. He slowly rises up from his seat and walks over to the witness stand. He ignores the haters and walks over to the lawyer who was helping him handle this case. Sometimes it’s great to have a boyfriend that has as many connections as Zoro.

After taking the oath, he takes his seat in the stand. Compared to how he was prior to getting here, he was now a lot more composed and calm. Usually he would be nervous and fidgeting. 

“Now what is your relationship with Mr Judge Vinsmoke?” 

“He is my biological father.”

“Can you recount what happened that day that infamous altercation between you and him happened?”

Sanji proceeds to narrate without hesitation. “On that day, I was invited to an event hosted by VH1. I did not even know that the old man was there. I was in the VIP lounge relaxing. My boyfriend Zoro went off to go get some drinks for us. Next thing I knew, Judge came over to me and began to touch my inappropriately on forced himself on me and kissed me….”

Sanji paused and takes off his glasses, trying to contain his tears and emotions. Everyone else stared at Judge who immediately looks away. Once Sanji had finally composed himself, he continues. “This is not the first time this man would sexually assault me.” 

Once everyone hears this, there was a collective gasp in the room. Even Sukuna and Eren were stunned. They did not know about this. Only those closet to Sanji like Zoro and his family knew about this.

“You say this is not the first time he did this. Do you mind me asking when was the last time he did this?”

Sanji glares daggers at his dad and says, “When I was 11, this man pulled up on the streets in the neighbourhood I was living in at the time. I was still living in Brookylyn with mum and my siblings. We moved a couple blocks away after father shot her in the head when I was 3.” 

People were shocked by that bombshell. No wonder Sanji is the way he is. “I was on my way home from school after basketball practice. His bodyguards at the time grabbed me and carried me into his van. He pulled down my pants and he and those two bastards proceeds to rape me in there. I am not the only one. He also defiled all my siblings and he threatened to kill us all should we ever reveal the truth.” Sanji then breaks down in tears.

The world came to a standstill as everyone was horrified by this revelation. His siblings and mother were in tears as well. “M-Mum filed a lot of restarining orders and tried several legal methods to keep him at bay but this bastard keeps on hsowing up at our schools to cause a scene and disrupt our lives. That was led to us moving to Atlanta to escape him. Unfortunately, it seems we could not escape his influence.”

“OBJECTION MY LORD!!”

The judge stops the defendant attorney. “Objection overruled. Continue prosecutor.” The lawyer nods and continues.

“How so?”

“First and foremost, I was unaware that Charlotte Pudding, who became my girlfriend when I was 13, knew my dad and that her parents were close friends and associates of his until recently.”

Yet another shocking bombshell. No wonder this guy has survived. That man really wants to ruin his life.

“Now we are getting somewhere. Please explain Miss Pudding’s involvement.”

Sanji nods. “Charlotte and I were discussing one day and she said she wanted to lose her virginity to me. I was hesitant because of past experiences and mental health issues. Still what does she do? She manipulates me into meeting her at the strip joint I used to work at. I did not know it at the time but she spiked my drink with something that knocked me out. I did not realize that she had had sex with me, talkless of filming our sexual encounter.”

Again collective gasp because why? Charlotte looks down in guilt. “And that brings me to this question, how are the Pudding family involved with your record label contract?”

“They are majority shareholders of the label and were part of the board of directors. I was not aware of this fact. They were watching Popstars: the rivals, the show I was a part of. According to Charlotte because she told me all this, she, her mother and Judge concocted a plan. They would give Aogiri a contract. However, my contract was different from the others. Basically, they take 95% of my allocated earnings and I just take 5% including my own solo projects like collaborations and endorsement deals. By the time, I found this out, it was too late. Plus like 3 of the members voted me out of the group. One of us Lelouch walked out and chose not to renew his.”

Again there was collective outrage about Sanji’s plight. Immediately, Eren and Sukuna leave the premises.Unfortunately, they are greeted by a series of boos from the crowd outside. The fans at least knew about their part in the contract debacle prior to the courtcase.

“That will be all Your Honour.” Sanji walks back to his seat and sits down. “This case shall be adjourned till September 8.”

With that, everyone walks out. “What you did was so brave Sanji.” says Lelouch. Sanji nods. “I had to get shit off my chest. It was the least I could do.”

“Notice that Sukuna and Eren walked out? They know what they did was wrong.” says Niji. “As they should. Bloody cowards.” says Sora.

Wow, did not expect that powerful revelation from S. But then again, I have always suspected Judge for years especially since the man got indicted for a similar crime with someone else’s kid years ago but he managed to escape. 

Z did a great job on handling this for him. But the question remains, will these folks go to jail for their sins or are they going to bribe their way out of it? Let us wait till September 8.

Noticed I mentioned burgundy suit here? That is a reference to One Piece itself. Also Sanji being called Sanji Bernard instead of Sanji Vinsmoke is because his parents divorced years ago and Bernard is his mum Sora’s maiden name.

#one piece #zosan #sanji #zoro #roronoa zoro #fanfiction #Eren Jaeger #attack on titan #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen

[junglekarmapippa]

Robbie on Robbie #19: "Who am I fooling? Well, I´ve got a list."

From: Lost (XXV)

RJ sat on the cold stone floor, back straight, eyes closed, muscles relaxed. He heard footsteps coming in his direction. He remained still and relaxed.

“Hello, Wolfie,” Camille said when she reached his cell.

“Camille,” RJ said, his eyes still closed.

“Mentally preparing for your defeat against Dai Shi?”

RJ smiled and opened his eyes to look at her. “I’m mentally preparing to defeat Dai Shi, actually.”

“Ha! As if,” the demon said. RJ remained calmly smiling at her.

“As if is the first step. It’s called visualization.”

“I can’t wait to see Dai Shi tearing your wolf spirit to shreds,” she said gleefully.

RJ shrugged. “His loss, really.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m a Pai Zhua Master, Camille, my animal spirit is very powerful.”

“Dai Shi is more powerful than any Pai Zhua animal spirit.”

“And yet he lets Carnasoar and Jellica treat him like a small child. It didn’t go past me. His masters have a lot less respect for Dai Shi than I have for my students. I’m sure it would be an improvement for Dai Shi to train with me.” He let out a small laugh, and watched with genuine pleasure how Camille squirmed as she thought of something to say back.

“So Dai Shi should what? Absorb your animal spirit instead of destroying it?” The demon asked, thinking she was being very sly.

“He’d have to train it and genuinely control it. And since he has been unable to control Jarrod’s lion spirit, I really don’t think he can handle my wolf.”

“You are worried” Camille said. “But not about yourself or your animal spirit.”

RJ gave her another smile but said nothing.

Another set of much heavier footsteps came up in their direction. It was Dai Shi, holding a tray of absolutely disgusting food. “I see you have decided to keep pretending you are in peace,” the demon asked him.

“I am in fact in peace," RJ said. “Also, wrong cell, I ordered the pizza.”

“Eat it."

"What? You are trying to make me forfeit the battle because I’m puking.” RJ said, pushing the platter away.

Dai Shi pushed the plater of disgusting food towards him. “Eat it,” he told him. “I want you at full strength.”

“Can I ask you something, Jarrod?” RJ asked from the floor, still looking at the food with disgust. “Do you really think you are learning from your Masters?”

“You will see. The battle we had will not be repeated.”

RJ chuckled at looked at him. “I have the tendency to repeat things I like”.

“Your animal spirit will be mine. Your students alone are not enough to rescue you from this, and you know it.”

To humor Dai Shi, RJ took half a spoon of what looked like lentils and put it in his mouth. They tasted as disgusting as they looked. He swallowed them as fast as I could.

“That’s gross.”

“Eat it! I want you --”

“Yes, yes. Is there anything in particular you’d like me to wear?” RJ asked, moving the food around the platter with the fork.

“The end of your life is near, I will destroy you as a present to my masters. Who do you think you’re fooling with this act of fearlessness and peace, Wolf Master?”

“Who am I fooling?” RJ pretended to think for a couple of seconds and then looked at Dai Shi directly in the eye. “Well, I’ve got a list. And you are both in it,” he added, pointing a Dai Shi and Camille.

“Eat your food, or I will have the Rin Shi force feed you.”

“Bold of you to assume your Rin Shi can force me to do anything,” RJ said, picking up another half spoon of the disgusting food. “Do you have salt and pepper? I can do magic with salt and pepper,” he asked Camille.

“EAT!” Dai Shi yelled, banging the cell bars. He walked away.

“Make do, Wolfie,” Camille told RJ and followed her master.

RJ looked at the platter, knowing very well he needed to eat it, and that he couldn’t fix it.

Well, if a bad meal was the price for the intel he was gathering as Dai Shi’s prisoner and his students getting the power-up he had made for them, it wasn’t that high of a price.

He sighed and put the fork in the food. He pinched his nose, closed his eyes and put the food in his mouth, swallowing as fast as he could.

“At least Gordon Ramsay gets to spit out the awful food."

#power rangers #powerrangers #lyrics #rj #fanfic #fanfiction #power rangers jungle fury #robbie williams #robbie on robbie #robbiewilliams #powerrangersjunglefury

[ryqoshay]

Putting on Hairs - Post Production: Salamander Fireworks

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Mentioned Pairing: AiRina Rating: G Words: 339 AU: Theater, Monsters, Cryptids Fandom: Love Live, Love Live Nijigasaki Parent Fic: Putting on Hairs - Post Production Time Frame: Sometime after the main story Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Fireworks Content Warning: Playing with fire, literally

---------

Author’s Note: Bonus 3rd entry for Oct 17th

Summary: Nico wants in on the supernatural fireworks

---------

“Maki-chan! Maki-chan!”

“Mm?” The named redhead turned to see a shorter, raven-haired woman rushing toward her.

“I just heard from Setsuna and some of the others, they used her fire powers last night to set off fireworks last night!”

“So now you want to have me do the same.”

“Obviously! Maki-chan knows how much Nico lo~ves her fire skills.”

Maki did know her girlfriend appreciated the warmth she was able to provide. And the light, on a few occasions, although they could both see well enough in the dark. Of course, she was also well aware of the fact that when Nico was overtly complimenting, it meant she wanted something. Something Maki may be reluctant to give otherwise. But lighting fireworks was easy. She’d don’t it many times on her own or with her parents or their house staff.

“What are you leaving out, Nico-chan?”

“Whatever do you mean, Maki-chan?”

Maki narrowed her eyes.

“Well, apparently, Setsuna dissolved a bunch of stuff in her mouth and would spit through a straw to make the firework.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to do that.”

“But Maki-cha~n!”

“I refuse.”

---------

She gave in.

Nico first convinced Rina to make what were basically tiny potato guns. Except that instead of filling them with gas then igniting it, Maki would fill the enclosed chamber, through the metal, with her flame until a pressure valve would release it. A burning grain of metal salt would then be shot out the end and Maki would cause it to detonate once it reached a decent height, thus creating a small firework.

Then Nico pulled her trump card, her siblings. She knew full well Maki had a hard time telling them no.

So here they were, gathered in a park, playing with supernatural fireworks. Nico, Ai and Cocoa were chasing each other with sparklers while Cotaro sat quietly, watching the show being put on by Maki. Rina busied herself filling the firework canons which Cocoro dutifully delivered to Maki.

Maki had to admit, this was actually pretty fun.

---------

Author’s Note Continued: Rushed this one a bit to get it posted before the deadline for the event; on the Discord server, not here or AO3. As such, I will most certainly come back to this one later and expand on it.

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #Putting on Hairs #Love Live #Promptober 2022 #fanfic

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

Koloským 4:5-6 5 Ve styku s lidmi, kteří nepatří k církvi, jednejte moudře a využívejte vhodné příležitosti, pokud je čas. 6 Vaše řeč ať je vždycky přívětivá a výstižná; pak v ní každý nalezne pro sebe správnou odpověď.

(5 Walk in wisdom toward them that are without, redeeming the time. 6 Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man.) — Colossians 4:5-6 | Slovo na cestu (SNC) Slovo na cestu (Czech Living Bible) Copyright © 1988 by Biblica Cross References: Ezekiel 43:24; Matthew 12:35; Mark 4:11; Mark 9:50; Ephesians 4:29; Ephesians 5:15-16; 1 Thessalonians 4:12; 1 Peter 3:15

#gentleness #wisdom #speaking #Colossians 4:5-6 #The Epistle of Colossians #New Testament #SNC #Slovo na cestu (Czech Living Bible) #Biblica

[pokeghosty]

Now that my fic is up on Royal Road let’s try this promotion thing again.

Book 1 - Setting Off

Chapter 1: Vermillion Sunset

“Vermilion City, the port of exquisite sunsets,” Celeste read the sign out loud while looking at the metropolis extending from the pier.

Tall buildings dotted the horizon, rising from beyond the piles of containers and warehouses that sat nearby. There was some smoke in the air and the smell of fried food mixed in with the salt scented ocean breeze. A Machoke and a Gurdurr passed by, carrying construction materials to a truck that was honking just behind a badly parked bus.

She watched as a large woman—the bus driver—left her post ticketing people to argue with the truck driver. There was a little Pichu on her shoulders and it looked absolutely terrified at the two Fighting-Types still loading the materials inside.

“I don’t know about that,” Celeste muttered, bringing her index finger to her chin. “This place doesn’t seem all that exquisite from where I’m standing.”

To the side of the bus, a queue was forming, and she started to think she should actually walk to town.

“What do you say, Aria? Wanna explore?” she asked, eyes trailing down to the Eevee yawning by her side. With a quiet chuckle, she continued, “Shouldn’t you be more excited?”

Aria twitched her ears and barked at her trainer, not particularly thrilled about signs or sunsets. Her lush brown fur, a little darker than the usual Eevee, shone with the bright late-summer sun and the cream-coloured fur collar around her neck rattled as she looked around for something more interesting.

“You are right,” Celeste said with a sigh. “This marina is pretty boring, but this guy back on our ship told me there are tons of fun things we can do here. Restaurants and even a nice beach towards… was it Route Six or Seven that he said…?”

A flock of Pidgey flew overhead as a small spark shot up. The bus driver’s Pichu was nervously shaking while its trainer shoved a finger right at the truck guy. She was yelling something about the virtues of patience and not honking while people did their jobs.

Ironic, considering she didn’t seem all that patient herself.

“So… walk and explore?” Celeste grinned at her Pokémon, trying to back her case by gesturing at the growing queue.

At that, Aria rolled her eyes and let out a long, sarcastic “Ve”.

“Okay, okay,” Celeste lifted a hand in a sign of peace. “We can walk straight to the Pokémon Centre.”

Another skeptic bark.

“What happened to enjoying the journey and all that?”

Aria smirked, affectionately tackling her trainer’s leg. When Celeste looked, however, her Pokémon was already sprinting away.

“Hey wait up,” she yelled. “You don’t even know where the Centre is and—”

She puffed, noticing Aria was not stopping, but wasted no time in sprinting after her best friend.

“You are not beating me to it,” she yelled, as she darted between the still arguing drivers. They shot her a confused look and the bus driver gasped, finally noticing the queue she’d left behind.

Celeste was not taking the bus, though.

With every step, her heart beat a little faster.

This was it. She was running toward her destiny.

This was the beginning of their journey. Once she got to the Centre, her life was going to change forever.

Once she got to the Centre, Celeste was going to be a real, proper Pokémon trainer.

-

Read up to chapter 2 on Royal Road

Read up to chapter 56 on Ao3 FFN SB

#pokemon fandom #pokemon oc #eevee oc #fanfic #fanfiction #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon fanart #fanart #pokemon fan character #fanfiction.net #pkmn fanart #artwork #art #digital art #digital drawing

[thehumoredhost]

The Satiated Hoarder

As he kept on collecting through time, he got more obsessive with it. As his obsession grew so did his exhibition hall.  The collection isn't miscellaneous enough to allow the ecological balance to persist indefinitely. [11] The filling up of small brooks and streams, the covering over of the canals, and Bosphorus demanded that equivalent spaces be vacant within Istanbul. [30]

the city of the dead: flesh turned to ashes: life turned into a meaningless pillar of salt. [30] vacant lots, scrub woods, back alleys, and unused hillsides. [29] It takes years for anything to happen on vacant land; it provides too little shelter, and too little "reason to be there.” [31], nothing to collect.

Bill was calm, he was happy,[25]  a state made perfect by the aggregation of all disappearing things. [6] He watched the while the residents slept… He forgot his love, he forgot forgetfulness: Who’s he! … Now he was tired and drowsiness overcoming him, he slept where he was [12] humming a song with a peace of mind, and lasting tranquillity [14]:

Mevsim rüzgarları ne zaman eserse

O zaman hatırlarım çocukluk rüyalarım

…

Öper beni annem yanaklarımdan

Güzel bir rüyada sanki sevdiklerim

Hayattalarken hâlâ

Akşama doğru azalırsa yağmur

Kız Kulesi ve Adalar

Ah, burda olsan çok güzel hâlâ

İstanbul’da sonbahar

(Translation)

Whenever the seasonal winds blow

Then I remember my childhood dreams

…

My mom kisses me on my cheeks

in a beautiful dream

Where my loved ones are still alive

If the rain softens towards evening

Maiden's Tower and the islands

Oh, only if you were here it's still so beautiful

Fall in Istanbul

[32]

[vistisenurquhart4]

hermes ostrich bag 10

Hermès Birkin Ostrich Bag It features the latest and the best from the world of extravagance and opulence. Rolls Royce has collaborated with Hermes for a one-off Phantom for a Japanese entrepreneur. “I buy leather-based so it’s tough to really feel valid in an argument towards using certain leathers. International cargo of things may be topic to customs processing and extra expenses. There is extra demand for Hermes Birkin bag than supply, that’s why they're so-hard to find. Each Birkin is hand-made with impeccable craftsmanship and precision. Buyer restriction by Hermes in Paris isn't new; one individual can solely buy two bags a year. You can have one Birkin or Kelly and the second bag is a free choice. Comedian and rapper Zack Fox makes a reference to Birkin baggage in his music "Marinate". The baggage are handmade in France using the corporate's signature saddle stitching, developed within the 1800s. Each bag is hand-sewn, buffed, painted, and polished, taking several days to finish. Leathers are obtained from completely different tanners in France, leading to various smells and textures. The firm justifies the price of the Birkin bag compared to other luggage because of the diploma of expertise concerned. The bag rapidly turned a symbol of wealth and exclusivity as a result of its excessive worth and assumed long waiting lists. wikipedia hermes ostrich Birkins are a popular merchandise with handbag collectors, and were as quickly as seen because the rarest purse in the world. Try dipping tomatoes in Greek yogurt with a small sprinkle of sea salt or a quantity of chopped mint leaves. Or enjoy contemporary cucumbers enlivened with a squeeze of lemon juice, or dipped in hummus. Sweet carrots minimize into crinkle chips can make a fun snack, and you can add selection by choosing heirloom varieties which are available white, purple, and yellow colours. Eating peas out of the pod can even make a fine substitute to fat- and salt-heavy snacks. If you find snack bars helpful in a pinch, look for those who promote a high protein content, and keep an eye on the caloric load. Collecting Luxury ensures that each one of our merchandise are authentic. “When you see the cruelty involved in these farms it really is surprising, that’s why we are asking Hermès to stop promoting the pores and skin of those ostriches,” she said. I simply purchased an ostrich Birkin this past fall in Mousse . Sizes vary from 25-, 30-, 35-, to 40-centimetres, with travelling luggage of 50- and 55-centimetres. It also is out there in quite a lot of colors corresponding to black, brown, golden tan, navy blue, olive green, orange, pink, powder blue, red, and white. The most costly Birkin was sold at an public sale with a price tag of $380,000. Not stunning that it was none aside from the Himalayan Birkin bag, and it was offered for such a hefty worth because of the albino-white crocodile pores and skin material it was crafted from. And all unique skin purses and accessories are handcrafted in strict compliance with CITES. As long as the method is suitable then you presumably can argue that it’s acceptable,” she stated. The protest comes after Peta US published an exposé of the industrial slaughter of ostriches. Undercover video recordings present younger ostriches being yanked upside down in a stunner earlier than their throats are minimize, as others watch and wait. I’ve simply bought my first Ostrich Birkin in December, see my avatar image. I am completely in love with Hermes Ostrich and considering to buy one other one already. And the bumps on actual ostrich leather have a novel irregular pattern. One plant director pointed to the pores and skin on an ostrich's back, saying, "This is where the money is made." The recognizable bumps on ostrich leather are literally the follicles where feathers was. The experience Hermès applies to each side of its design extends to the rigour of its dyeing process. Hermes personally offers a special treatment for used Birkin bags. "Jane Birkin asks Hermes to take name off crocodile purse", Agence-France Presse. In 2021, NY-based designer, MSCHF, bought $122,500 of Birkin luggage and used them to craft a new "Birkinstocks" sandal. Crafting one bag takes round 20 hours and solely extremely expert workers may go on Birkins. The Birkin bag of Hermes is the first it bag bearing the name of a star. In 1983, Hermes CEO Jean-Louis Dumas was seated next to Jane Birkin on a flight from Paris to London. Birkin placed her straw travelling bag within the overhead compartment, but the contents fell to the deck. The Philippine Star reported in March 2013, that a high-end, 30-cm Shiny Rouge H Porosus Crocodile Birkin with 18-carat gold fittings and encrusted with diamonds was sold for US$203,one hundred fifty at an auction in Dallas, Texas, US. In 1984, Hermès chief govt Jean-Louis Dumas was seated next to Jane Birkin on a flight from Paris to London. Birkin had just positioned her straw travelling bag within the overhead compartment for her seat, however the contents fell to the deck, leaving her to scramble to replace them. Birkin explained to Dumas that it had been difficult to find a leather weekend bag she liked. Photos courtesy of official web sites of hermes, therealreal, fashionfile, sothebys, Vogue, and so on. hermes ostrich birkin The Togo Birkin was the one piece that didn’t increase in value for 2020.

#ostrich birkin #birkin ostrich bag #hermes ostrich bag #hermes ostrich birkin #hermes kelly ostrich #hermes birkin ostrich bag #pink ostrich birkin bag #ostrich kelly bag #mini kelly ostrich #birkin 25 ostrich #kelly ostrich #replica hermes ostrich bag

[pentacass]

finished DC.....but at what cost.

#my time n sanity #lmao joking aside it was just....okay i guess #just ur generic white man's vision of a fantasy world (within this alliance) #besides a few well-written moments n side quests it was just bland #wasn't that invested n was majorly zoning out to get thru it as quick n painless as possible #and the dialogue was hugely skewed towards kissing the pc's bum which is. uh. i didn't like that #or maybe i'm just too used to being snubbed by altmer n dunmer lmao #i also liked emeric more than i rmbr. his dry humour is top notch n it's obvious he respects/likes the vestige as much as jorunn/ayrenn #think i got him confused with the other fuckboys in the storyline lmao anyway #that's all!!! that's all i can rmbr #the elder scrolls #tes #eso #yzstuff #yzeso #eso dc salt #gotta replay AD/EP for comparison so i know it isn't just nostalgia clouding my judgement #but my eso energy's burnt out again #so it's time to give my braincells to ms ves sw/tor yeet

[ptersparkers]

pogue v. kook

summary: after an unexpected event that leaves you in shambles, topper thorton, rafe cameron, and kelce prove to be unliekly friends. 

warnings: typos, probably. 

notes: i had this idea and posted it, to which i got some good feedback, and then @anonymous0writer​ entertained all of my ideas so i thought why not have her write some of it. i’ve also made an option to be removed from my taglist. it’s getting quite long and there will be no hard feelings if you want to be removed. 

this is my gif. please credit if using. 

You were not a Kook. 

Not by blood, anyway. Kiara and Sarah had roped you in on the “Kook lifestyle” over the years with sleepovers and other shenanigans, and despite being the only one out of the trio who was a Pogue, it never felt like you were disparaged. Upon meeting them for the first time at fifteen when you moved to the Outer Banks, you knew that these girls would be the type of people you’d want to keep around for a while. Now that all of you were about to embark on the next chapter of your lives, it seemed like the perfect summer to relax before leaving for college.

You were aware, mostly because of JJ, the attitude Pogues held towards the residents on the other side of the island. Then came Sarah dating Topper, Rafe’s insistence on annoying the absolute hell out of all of you, and Kelce’s back and forth attitude when he was with his friends versus when he was alone. It was tiring and even you had to admit life would’ve been better if you were ignorant towards the “Kook vs. Pogue” debacle. You were a Pogue through and through. 

When JJ asked you to be his girlfriend eight months ago, you felt like things were falling into place and your life was running how it should be. You two had been the first to break the sacred rule that John B. seemed to be the only one to reinforce and none of the other Pogues had any objections about your relationship as you two had been pining after one another for what seemed like an eternity. 

But a month ago was when you felt a sudden change. It was unspoken, subtle, and hard to pinpoint. JJ became less available and wasn’t as forthcoming as he usually was. You could tell he became more reserved and it looked as if he had to force himself to sit next to you on the HMS Pogue or greet you with a kiss when you arrived at the Chateau. Your mind immediately went to his home life and you decided not to ask any questions, knowing JJ would much rather deal with it on his own and come to you if he needed anything. 

However, seeing all of the Pogues laugh at the far left table on the outdoor patio at The Wreck had put the first seed of doubt in your mind. JJ was sitting next to Kiara while John B. and Sarah were in front of them, Pope on the end, laughing loudly that you were sure the other beachgoers were able to hear them from the other end. You had been walking aimlessly, wanting to breath the scent of salt air and walked the short path you usually took when you wanted to clear your mind when you stumbled upon the Pogues hanging out with one another, seemingly without inviting you. You tried not to think about it too much. 

By this time, you noticed the sudden change in JJ’s mood and attitude. When you were around, he barely spoke and averted his gaze whenever you tried to reach out for him. His muscles would tense when you’d lean on his chest or grab his hand but you noticed he had no issue letting Pope jump on his back as a joke or hold his hand out for Kiara when she stepped off of the boat. 

The hurt in your chest grew every time you’d put your hypothesis -- you being the only person he shied away from -- to the test, it left you with internal pain as you realized JJ was talking to you less. He didn’t come over as often as he used to nor did he volunteer to walk you home like he always did. JJ almost never kissed you in public, opting to kiss your cheek instead or give you a loose hug as a way of saying hello or goodbye. But when you sat the other Pogues interacting with JJ, it was business as usual. You thought about talking to the others about what you’d been noticing, but every time you saw them around JJ, it was a reminder that they were friends long before you moved onto the island three years prior. 

You knew it wasn’t your place to talk to them about the issues you were having, and you knew you were most likely blowing this feeling out of proportion. You rationalized by telling yourself what you had been noticing was nothing but your mind playing tricks on you and it wasn’t like the Pogues were ignoring you in full. The lost touches JJ failed to make up, the eyes that dropped to the floor when you entered, the hushed tones when you spoke up felt like it happened more often as you started to overthink. It left you feeling hollow inside as if there was a vacuum of space that wasn’t able to be filled no matter how many times you tried to distract yourself. 

The feeling of uneasiness in your stomach first began when you and the rest of the Pogues were lounging in the living room of the Chateau one evening. You were on the couch with JJ, you were on one side while he was on the other side when, usually, you’d be perched on his chest. Your stomach sank as JJ laughed, eyes lighting up in the way you loved, when Kiara started dancing, hips swaying to the soft beat of music pumping from her phone. As soon as your blonde haired boyfriend practically leaped up once the girl gestured for him to join her, you felt your body disconnect. Almost as if you were watching the whole scene play out from outside your body. 

There you were, sitting on the couch, frozen and Kiara danced with your boyfriend when you struggled to get him to acknowledge you. You watched silently as Kiara moved her hips while JJ’s fingertips grazed the material of her shirt as he brought her closer, dancing along to the invisible steps Kiara set in place. It was like they’d been practicing for days, learning each other’s moves before they were even made. His body moved gracefully with hers, easy and free. You weren’t sure what hurt more, seeing JJ dance with Kiara the way he used to with you or your friends encouraging their antics and not questioning why they were so close.

Your throat closed up and it became hard to swallow as your heart gave a little ache. The feeling in your gut worsened when JJ moved naturally with Kiara because when he returned to you, he was stiff and tense under your desperate touch. His eyes wouldn’t light up with joy as they settled on you, if they did at all. However, they did as he spun Kiara around, her curls bouncing as his toothy grin emerged, lighting up the Chateau. The familiar smile did nothing to soothe your bad feeling. 

No matter how much you yearned for your familiar JJ back and the ease of hanging out with the Pogues, you didn’t move. Your fingers didn’t twitch and your eyes didn’t water as you watched the Pogues slowly join the dancing pair, the four a picturesque scene painted before your eyes, and you hated it. You hated the way they’d been slipping through your fingers and easing you out of their life so easily. You hated knowing they were just fine as friends before you entered the picture and that they wouldn’t bat an eye if you left. As the increasingly negative thoughts jumbled in your head, rising to a symphony of noise, you only saw red. The tears burning the back of your eyes stung, but you refused to cry in front of them. But there was no way you were going to stay, feeling hopeless as you watched your boyfriend and friends slip away. 

Pushing yourself up from the couch roughly, you stood, anger seizing your veins. “I’m leaving.” You stated, the words choppy and lined with barbed wire. 

The Pogues stopped, halting in their easy movements as they watched you leave in a hurry, steps thudding against the wooden porch and then crunching against the gravel as you fled. John B. looked at JJ with a glance but the blond shrugged and watched the door after you left, not bothering to walk out to ask why you had left so abruptly. 

Though that was the last time you set foot in the Chateau for the rest of the week, the sick feeling sitting dormant in your gut worsened. As much as you missed your friends -- when they wanted you around -- you refused to go back to the place you felt like you lost them. 

But in a cruel twist of fate, you were forced to as you had forgotten your board at John B’s. You begrudgingly headed back with a sigh. As you walked down the worn path of John B.’s drive way, intending to just grab the surfboard and leave, you had the sickening feeling that the wave was about to break. The wave had been building all this time, and now, as you arrived at the door of the Chateau, the ripped screen door flapping softly in the breeze as your hand was poised to open it, you knew it was gonna crash. 

With a sudden rush of bravery or stupidity, you pushed open the door of the Chateau, expecting the Pogues to be on the couch talking or eating. But they weren’t there. No one except the last two people you wanted to see. 

JJ and Kiara. JJ with his hands on Kiara’s hips as she sat on his lap, tongue down his throat. Kissing. JJ and Kiara kissing.

You stood on the threshold of the doorway and dropped your metal keys on the wooden floor, causing Kiara and JJ to look at you abruptly. Her eyes widened as she jumped off of JJ’s lap and pushed him away, JJ doing the same as you tried to pick your keys up without looking at either of them. Your hair kept getting in the way as you tried to hold back your tears, not wanting them to see your reaction when you picked up your house keys and turned around. 

“Wait!” JJ called out for you. You turned around for a brief moment and watched as he ran after you with Kiara in tow, standing awkwardly at the door frame with her hands crossed over her chest. She avoided your gaze as you looked back and forth between two people you thought were your friends.

“Are you serious?” you asked softly, your voice breaking in the process. JJ winced when he heard you speak. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, but he couldn’t find an excuse in his brain that was worthy enough.  

“With her?” you asked, finding it harder to fight back the tears. 

“Hey,” JJ said, a little edge in his voice that told you all you needed to know. “That’s your best friend.”

“No, she’s not,” you said. “Neither of you are my friends.” 

“Don’t walk away,” JJ pleaded as you turned around. He jumped forward to reach for your arm, pulling you back gently to ask for your forgiveness, but you knew he was only sorry because he got caught. 

“We’re done, JJ,” you said, pointing between the both of you. You turned towards Kiara and motioned the same. “We are not friends.” 

“Y/N,” Kiara said, her voice breaking the same as yours had done a mere moment ago when her guilt settled in. “I swear we didn’t mean for this to happen.” 

“But it did happen,” you replied. “You were making out with my boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, and you feel guilty because I caught you doing it.”

“Don’t throw away our friendship,” JJ pleaded with erratic breaths. He could feel his chest compress as if someone had been throwing continuous punches without letting him take a breather. “We can fix this. We can fix us.” 

“As far as I’m concerned,” you began, throat tight, but you had to get the words out, “you threw away our friendship the minute you decided to cheat on me.” You turned towards Kiara. “How could you do this?” 

Kiara looked at you with glossy eyes and you recalled all the times you would’ve dropped everything to comfort her and dry her teary eyes, but now you couldn’t be bothered to give her a tissue. You scoffed and chose not to spare either one of them a glance as you turned away, your heart beating in your chest, running to the clearing above the beachside. 

You sat on a patch of rock overlooking the ocean below you with your knees to your chest, water droplets splashing on your kneecaps from tears you were trying to hold back. The sound of the birds chirping above you and the water roaring below you weren’t enough to drown the negative thoughts swimming in your head and you were left with a bitter, empty feeling as you wished to be one of the beachgoers who enjoyed the sunny day. 

“Mind if I sit?” a voice asked from behind you. You turned around after wiping your nose and underneath your eyes with the back of your hand and saw Topper Thorton standing, looking down at you with an expression you couldn’t read. 

“If you’re here to make fun of me,” you said, trying to make it seem like you hadn’t been crying a few minutes prior to his arrival, “I’m not really in the mood.” 

Topper shook his head and sat next to you, leaving adequate space between the both of you. When he realized you weren’t objecting or told him to go away, he mimicked your stance and pulled his knees to his chest as he looked at where your gaze was. Topper could hear your quiet breaths as you tried to calm yourself down and he tried not to look at the dark circles beneath your eyes. In truth, the boy hadn’t found any reason to find you annoying or hate you completely, but it wasn’t hard to put you into the group he never got along with. You tried to ignore his presence, finding that, for once, he was not being as annoying as he was when he was with Rafe and Kelce.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Topper asked awkwardly. You laughed ironically, wiped your eyes, and looked at him with an incredulous expression. 

“Why do you care? I don’t want to be the subject of whatever you and your friends laugh about.” 

Topper shook his head and he knew he had no reason to be mad at what you said. He knew how he and his friends were. There was no denying how brutal they could be as they teased your friends, that much Topper knew. But he couldn’t stop himself from following you when he saw you run past him hastily, disappearing into the bushes. Topper’s curiosity got the better of him and he couldn’t explain the heartbreak he felt in his chest for you when he saw your usually bright and chirpy demeanor crumble into a teary-eyes ball on the warm rock below him.

“I’m not gonna make fun of you,” he said softly, turning his head to look at you. You stared ahead and wiped your eyes once again, not knowing how to respond. “I know what you think of me and I know you have no reason to trust what I’m saying, but I just want to know if you’re okay.” 

You stole a glance at Topper and saw he was looking at you already. His shoulders were relaxed and his attention seemed to be completely devoted to you, which was an odd thought to come across. You’d never spoken to Topper without Kelce or Rafe beside him, nor did you have any pleasant conversations with the boy who claimed to care for your wellbeing. Topper made no effort to comment on your unruly appearance, or the fact that your eyes continuously leaked with tears you desperately tried to hide, but part of you didn't care. He was the first person in a while to ask if you were doing okay.

“No,” you said, your voice breaking. Topper’s heart softened. “I, uh, I just walked in on JJ and Kiara kissing.” Topper’s eyes widened. He may not have enjoyed his time around the Pogues, but even he knew how infatuated the two of you were with each other. 

“What?” he asked, surprised. You laughed in self pity and shook your head, wiping your eyes once more.

“I never thought he’d cheat on me,” you replied. “He always talked about wanting to tell the truth and being loyal to his friends but he couldn’t extend that decency to me.” 

Topper knew this feeling all too well. While his relationship with Sarah might’ve sprouted because of their parents’ expectations, he grew to like the girl more and more as each day passed and he felt as if Sarah felt the same. It wasn’t until a year prior that he learned about her infidelity, with John B. no less, and he felt as if his world was coming to a complete stop. The girl he was infatuated with had no problem running into the arms of someone he didn’t get along with, and Topper was sure his distaste for Pogues increased because of that. 

“I know how you feel,” he said quietly. He averted your gaze when you looked at him in favor of looking at the ocean. “When Sarah cheated on me with John B., I just came to terms that I probably loved her.” 

“It sucks, doesn’t it?” you asked rhetorically. Topper let out a breath. 

“It does,” he said. “Deep down I know it’s wrong, but John B’s the reason I don’t like Pogues anymore.” 

“C’mon, Topper. Did you ever like Pogues?” you joked. Upon hearing your voice sound less accusatory and more playful, Topper allowed himself to laugh. “Do you know why it’s frustrating, to me at least, when Kooks mess with Pogues?” 

“No, I don’t,” Topper said genuinely. 

“It’s because people make fun of us for what we were born with,” you explained. “I didn’t ask to be born to a family that has to work to live. It’s hard to live comfortably knowing people who have a lot of money make fun of me because I don’t. It’s not anybody’s fault for what they were born into. It just hurts a little.” 

The boy, naive in his own right, felt oddly at peace with your confession. Internally, he knew he was privileged and saw the way Rafe would boast about his expenses and privileges, and he knew neither him nor Kelce would be as vocal about it as Rafe was. Still, his friends encouraged the unruly behaviour towards the Pogues and he never second guessed it. But hearing your confession, especially when you were trying to make your voice steady and catch your breath from previously crying, made him think about all the times he’d wanted to tell Rafe to leave the Pogues alone. 

“I’m sorry,” Topper apologized sincerely. “For whatever it’s worth.” 

You smiled, the corners of your mouth curving into a small smile that didn’t go unnoticed by Topper. He bit his cheek, trying not to show how proud he was of himself for brightening your mood, even if it was by a short stretch. The both of you let a comfortable silence settle in, the sound of laughter below you while the sky remained bright and sunny. 

“Hey,” Topper began, looking at you. You turn towards him and he sees that you aren’t crying anymore. “Do you want to, I don’t know, hang out sometime?”

“Topper, if this is your way of asking me out--”

“No!” he said abruptly, clearing his throat. “I just mean that, if you want a friend, I’m here for you.” 

“Really?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I mean it. No games, nothing.” 

“Thanks,” you said, moving your hair behind your ear. Topper pulled out his phone and asked you to put your phone number in his contacts, sending you a text message to make sure you had his number. You were aware of the risk you were taking, and how you might end up being the laughing stock of the Figure Eight residents, but at this moment, you didn’t care.

It’d been a little less than a week since you fled the Chateau and Topper had found you on the rock. And since then, you felt happier. No more friends pushing you out of their life or cheating boyfriends. While you would’ve never thought you’d be friends with Kooks, especially the likes of Rafe Cameron, you liked it. You had to say you almost liked them better. The boys were outrageous in the best way and after you got used to being with them, it felt so easy to slip into old habits of trusting people with your delicate feelings. 

When Topper had initially introduced you to Kelce and Topper, Kelce was less reluctant to “initiate” you into their friend group compared to Rafe. The boy, ignorant in his own right, wasn’t afraid of hiding his distaste for you because you were a Pogue. 

“Rafe, you never have anything important to say so I suggest you think before you speak or shut up altogether.” 

Rafe shut his mouth when you spoke as you eyed him down. Kelce and Topper were laughing behind you as Rafe’s cheeks turned red with a blush, embarrassed to have been caught being called out. Begrudgingly, Rafe welcomed you onto his boat and spent the next four hours getting to know you and decided that he was wrong about the kind of person you were. With a little time and convincing, Rafe had promised to never mess with the Pogues or make fun of them for being one, and you found yourself considering Rafe as one of your best friends just as he considered you the same.  

The sun was beating on your back, the water sliding down your skin cooling you off as you returned from a dip in Rafe’s pool. You hum, leaning back in your pool side chair, the cold glass of lemonade spiked with whatever alcohol Kelce got his hands on pressed against your cheek as you tried to battle the heat. 

“You good there, Princess?” Rafe called out from across the pool as he emerged from the sliding glass doors with a newly opened beer in his hand. 

“It’s too hot,” you complained. 

“No shit, Sherlock,” Kelce said, laughing as he jumped into the pool. 

“Show off,” you muttered at his near perfect dive. 

“Okay, be honest,” Topper piped, looking at you while tipping his beer in your direction. “I’m pretty sure the Pogues think we all have a thing for you, so, if you had to fuck someone, who would it be?” 

“Is that even a question? Rafe, in a heartbeat.” 

“Don’t mind if I do,” Rafe said, sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to wink at you, 

“Please don’t fuck in front of me,” Topper said, sighing as he closed his eyes. 

“Why would you say that?” you said coyly, enjoying his reaction. “We’d never.” 

“She’s too smart for her own good,” Kelce said, joining the three of you by the pool chairs. 

“Not to be too cheesy, or anything,” you began. 

“Uh-oh,” said Rafe. “She’s about to get cheesy.”

“Shut up, idiot,” you muttered. “As I was saying.”

“As you were saying,” Kelce repeated. You gave him the finger. 

“As I was saying,” you repeated, “I know all of you know what happened between me and the Pogues and I’m really happy that I found you guys as friends. I never feel pressured to do anything when I’m with you guys and I appreciate that you let me have a life outside of this friendship.” 

“Pogues are bitches,” Rafe said. You gave him a look. “For what they did to you.”

“And you didn’t deserve to be cheated on,” Topper said. You pouted, putting your hands over your heart as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“Guys, I'm going to cry,” you teased, pretending to wipe tears from underneath your eyes. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent by the pool before moving to Rafe’s living room to watch an endless amount of movies, forgetting that the world outside existed. 

The beach wasn’t as busy as usual despite the warm weather. You and the three boys decided to head to the water after they agreed to learn how to surf upon your insistence and neither of them could deny your kind smile when your lips pouted and your eyes widened. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Kelce said, falling on his beach towel after trying his hand at surfing. You walked behind him, laughing as you watched his body lay limp on the towel. Rafe and Topper had given up not too long ago, opting to sit on the sand and dry, tanning in the sun while taking videos of Kelce trying to surf for the first time. Your skin felt cool from the ocean water and you motioned for Topper to hand you your water bottle. Rafe squinted as he watched you gulp from the spout, his sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. 

“How are you so fucking good at surfing?” he asked. 

“Been doing it since I could swim,” you said with a shrug, tossing the water bottle in your tote bag. 

“Damn,” Kelce muttered. 

“Is that JJ?” Topper asked nonchalantly, looking in the distance. You turned to where his gaze was and tensed your jaw when you saw JJ, accompanied by your former friends, kicking a soccer ball not too far from where you and the Kooks sat. 

“I don’t want to think about it or talk to them,” you said, groaning as you situated yourself on your beach towel. You brought your knees to your chest and put your sunglasses on, trying to make yourself seem smaller than you were. 

“It’s okay,” Rafe said. “We can fight them if you want us to.”

“No,” you interjected, knowing Rafe was kidding, but you knew he’d do it if you asked. “You don’t need to do that. We’re all adults here.”

“Except Rafe,” said Kelce. You chuckled, your mind temporarily distracted from the Pogues. 

You caught Kiara’s eye and turned around before she could say or do anything else, opting to keep yourself busy by straightening your beach towel. Topper and Kelce tried to distract themselves by talking to one another and Rafe, knowing how you felt about your former friends, glared at them from behind his sunglasses. 

“Are you serious?” you heard JJ say from a distance. You looked up and saw him scoff as he dropped his beach towel on the floor and walked to you, seeing you surrounded by three of his least favorite people. “You’re hanging out with Kooks now?” 

“What’s it to you?” Rafe asked nonchalantly with a hint of annoyance. JJ looked beside you, where Rafe was sitting, and scoffed. 

“You let him speak for you now?” 

“I don’t need to explain anything to you,” you replied calmly. 

“So you decided to go ‘full kook’ and abandon your friends and, what, are you and Rafe fucking?” 

You looked at him from where you sat and gave him an incredulous look, standing up from where you sat and faced him. You crossed your arms across your chest as you thought how ironic it was for him to be complaining about the company you kept when you caught him cheating on you not too long ago. 

“You don’t get to ask me that when you cheated on me with Kiara,” you said aloud, gesturing at the other three Pogues walked tentatively towards the both of you, careful to keep their distance as you spoke.

“And you chose to be friends with them?” JJ asked. 

“Listen,” you said. “All of you have been friends way longer than I’ve been friends with you and for the past few months, all of you have been acting like I’m not even there.” 

“We didn’t--”

“You did, JJ,” you said, snapping your fingers in front of his face to acquire his attention. “You pulled away from me with no explanation and got annoyed every time I would ask if you were okay. You never bothered to call or text me anymore and ignored me whenever we were together, JJ.” 

“So you’re ditching your friends for some Kooks?” John B. asked. 

“I haven’t felt like I was one of your friends and every time I wanted to talk about it, all of you shut me out. I know you’ve all been hanging out without me and I’m pretty sure you guys knew JJ and Kiara were messing with each other too.” 

“But we’re your friends,” Pope pleaded. He looked back and forth between you and the boys who were sitting next to you. 

“Well now she’s found other friends,” Kelce spoke. “Maybe she’s allowed to have other friends.” 

“Not with dipshits like you,” JJ spat. 

“I’m allowed to have other friends,” you said. “With you guys, I felt like I couldn’t be friends with anyone else because all we did was hang out with each other. I never felt like I could do anything if it wasn’t with any of you.”

“Y/N,” Kiara began, “we didn’t--”

“You don’t get to talk to me and beg for my friendship,” you directed at Kiara. “You don’t get to tell me what a good friend is when you were fucking around with JJ behind my back. You kissed my boyfriend. It’s always about ‘family’ with all of you until you feel like something’s threatening that. All of you are so dependent on each other that you can’t accept when somebody wants to have a life of their own. None of you have been my friend for the past few months and, quite frankly, I’m done being treated like a rag doll.”

“And the Kooks are better?” JJ asked. 

“They make me feel included,” you said. “I don’t feel like I have to choose. I can be my own person when I’m with them and none of them made me feel ashamed for wanting a life without them. So, yeah, the Kooks are better.” 

Even the four teenagers standing in front of you had to admit they enjoyed how the three boys stopped messing with them like the previous summer and they hadn’t pieced it together until they saw you sitting with them at the beach. 

“Neither of you,” you said, pointing between Kiara and JJ, “get to tell me how to feel. You made your beds, now lay in it.” 

Hastily, you picked up your beach towel and paid no mind to the four pairs of eyes watching you leave. Topper, who noticed you neglected to pick up your bag, grabbed it for you as he beckoned for the other two boys to do the same. Neither Topper, Rafe, nor Kelce spared the Pogues another glance and, for once, it wasn’t because of their status; it was because they made you feel less than you were.  

“You know we love you, right?” Topper asked, bumping your shoulder with his. 

“I’m glad someone does,” you mumbled, rubbing your temple. 

You left the beach without another word and sat in the passenger seat of Rafe’s car, not bothering to look at your former friends as you drove away. But you felt a newfound sense of peace as you sat in the passenger seat, watching as Rafe queued a playlist, Kelce giving you a gentle smile, and Topper patting your shoulder as a silence gesture of telling you he was proud of you. All would be okay.

***

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[justfangstvdto]

Open Coffin 2 | Chapter 04  “Word travels fast among the Damned”

Disclaimer: This is a sequel! Find Part 1 here. For some context, I´d advise you to watch The Originals to understand some occurrences.

Chapter warnings: typical TO violence and fighting, a dash of ptsd, glimpse into messed up childhood, oh and some new spells and practices, also this took so extremely long so please feel free to wait until more chapter are here

Word count: 6664

Tags & Author Note at the bottom. Feedback is my lifeblood and keeps the writing coming (eventually...lol)

Your name: submit What is this?

At certain times in life, there is this premonition, a sense of knowing that something is coming. It is felt in the air in every passing breeze, and there is nothing one can do to stop it. It blows from the environment to throw its opponent off balance. Could be a monster with sharp claws, a bullet, a virus or bacteria. Or, in your case, a wooden and deadly staff handled with ancient vampire strength. 

The attack came from the left side, poignant and with precision.  The wood colliding with the carved stick in your hands send vibrations through your arms, that travelled to your shoulders. Strike blocked. Another attack came swiftly, this time from below in an upwards angle calculated just right to throw you off balance. Blocked again. You could see it in Mikael´s face; he was growing frustrated by every passing round of attack. He threw his weight behind his next attack, that edged closer to your face. Pain erupted from the point of impact as it sliced through the skin just above your cheekbone. Mikael doubled up again and brought the staff to your knees, swiftly knocking you off balance.  You fell backwards like a sack of wood but caught yourself midair before landing on your stomach. 

He's good. 

He forced you down with the edge of the staff, burying your face in the dirt. He could kill you with a push of his weight, but he relented. You heard his feet cracking the ground beneath him as he turned his back and walked away as the champion. 

Or so he thought. 

You pushed yourself up with your dirt-covered hands, using your vampire speed and the element of surprise to your advantage. Holding the staff in a horizontal line, you went after him. He let out a huffed gurgle when you pulled back on the wood you pressured against his neck, pulling him against your torso. Mikael reacted swiftly and brought his weight forward to overthrow your chokehold like a bull trying to buckle of its rider. You let yourself fall over his back with your hand around the staff, nearing the ground with your backside, only to switch to your front as you easily grasped the staff out if his hands. Swiftly and without hesitation you plunged the staff into his face before you brought it down to his feet to trip him over. He landed into the dirt as you did before, face red with anger. 

“I told Klaus already," You said, pointing the end towards his heart, while the Mikaelson family runic crest buried itself into the flesh of your hands "never turn your back on a Salvatore. Especially not me. ”

He was hurt in his pride, that much was evident, but there was a glimmer of surprise in his eyes that made you proud. You've beaten the vampire that hunts vampires. Granted, he had lost his touch over the years on the other side, but he still had centuries on you. It was a cause for celebration, or at least it was something to hold over him if you needed to. 

Mikael scrambled to his feet, dusting off his dirt-covered clothes tainting the afternoon sun with dust particles "You fight well.“ 

"That's what happens when you grow up with two brothers that constantly had to one-up each other. You learn to fight if you're the one in the middle.” You said, sparing a thought to how you´d find Stefan and Damon in front of your house, fighting each other with their bare hands or loose wood from the barn a few ways down from the front door. You would always see them through the smudged window in the housekeeping room where your mother used to teach you what a girl should learn to become a proper woman. But you never cared for it. Instead, you would run outside your dress dragging in the dirt as you pushed your brothers apart even onto the dirt if you had to. 

You pushed that memory aside, and you bend over to grab the staff on the floor, your fingers gliding over the ornate wood once more “The crest.” You continued “What does it mean?” 

Mikael seemed surprised by your interest, even if it was covered with a loud sigh of contentment. Yet, he complied and drew the crest in the dirt beneath him “Long ago this was the Norse alphabet rune “Gebu”. It´s meaning varied from spear to gift but has been used to refer to Odin's spear Gungnir. It was believed that it had been given to Odin by Loki and is known for always hitting its mark, no matter the obstacle.”

“Always hitting bullseye no matter what? Yeah, that describes your family pretty well.” You shared a quick look with him before you turned away, heading for the cabin. You always wondered if Mikael missed his northern home - his true north so to speak- or if rage consumed him entirely without leaving a trace of the Wikingr he once was. And if the same thing will happen to you if the seething anger you developed over the last 3 years, triumphs over your sanity. Only time and its unrelenting grasp knew. 

Glancing into the window beside the door you stopped to check your phone that was still outside since last night. You turned it over and unlocked it with a click, groaning when you saw the notification. Twenty-eight missed calls. Most of them were Klaus, a few from Marcel and then…

No way. 

Stefan's name glared at you through the screen and with it a little icon next to him. He left a voicemail. What gravely thing had to occur for him to call you after years of silence? Did Mystic Fall finally burn down to ashes? Perhaps someone scarier than Klaus rolled into town and he just needed help? Whatever it was, the feeling of impending doom lingered in the air when you locked your phone and left it on the table outside. There was no time to linger in what-if scenarios. 

No unnecessary attachments. No distractions - That's how you get things done.

Opening the cabin door a swift of charcoaled sage penetrated your senses, pungent with every step you took. Kaleb stood near a table, an unbuttoned shirt hugging his frame as if he was about to embark on a tropical cruise. He had the table decked out in front of him with elongated squares of stone which looked like they were engraved with runic symbols. 

You closed the door behind you, the remnant of your late-night drinking session from the night before, collided together with the door´s vibration against the brittle wood. Last night you sparsely told Kaleb why you brought Mikael back, but your conversation quickly dissolved to more than just small talk. The alcohol loosened your tongue to a comfortable degree. It was strange to be unburdened by the fear of judgment. There wasn't any lasting damage that you had to fear, nothing you had to be ashamed of when looking him in the eyes and nothing you had to live with forever. Maybe the prospect of dying and not be burdened by anything that lasted had its advantages after all. It was easier at least. 

When you stepped further into the room, Kaleb looked up from the bowl he had in his hand. Passing him, you discarded the sheer jacket that was stained with the particles of your meeting with the dirt floor outside. You flipped open the cooler filled with the blood bags, taking inventory of how many remained. Two. Great. Hunger was plaguing you more than it ever had. The cooler was full yesterday. 

You jumped when Kaleb’s fingers gently wrapped when he turned your shoulder towards him to inspect the damage that had already healed, the only reminder of it a sheer layer of red. You pushed his hand away, regretting your action within a second after witnessing the guilty look on his face.

He shuffled back to where he was standing previously and cleared his throat before he spoke: “I don't think sparring with him is a good idea.” 

“What, do you think he'd kill me? I´m a dead vamp walking no matter what, so who cares?” 

“Don't you mean an undead dead vampire?” He joked before his face contorted into a questioning gaze “Wait…” He laughed. When you returned his laughter with a chuckle, he seemed proud, face beaming with a sense of accomplishment. 

So he likes to make people laugh. Noted.

Kalebs gaze lingered for another moment, then he glanced out of the window to watch Mikael train with nothing but the wind as his opponent." You´ve told me how you brought him back, but not why." He continued, a worried tone now coating his voice "I assume it is more than just as a sparring partner?" 

You shook your head “You should know as little as possible. They will come after you if they find out you know something. ”

“You're still not the trusting sort.” He noted, “And I thought we've bonded.”

The truth was you had bonded to a certain degree, and you were wary of the developing attachment.

“Well, do you trust me?” You questioned.

“Are you slicked? Those sad eyes might fool some people, but not me. I know what you're after.” Stoic and calculated he stared you down before his mouth contorted into a lighthearted smile “You've got a lecherous heart, Y/N! I won't be used, not for my body, nor my magic!” 

You turned your head to hide a smile, but he caught on and lid up with pride. "Speaking of magic.” You nodded towards the table next to him “How's all this supposed to work anyway?"

“This-” He stepped closer, pointing with his fingers to the runes surrounded by a salt and ash circle “Is an ancient runic foretelling. Like a, uh, prophecy.”

“So like a fancy version of tarot cards?” You said bluntly, “How is that gonna help?”

“Depending on what runes appear, we will have a vague indication of what's causing the bleeding; Spell, curse, your vampire body rejecting magic… whatever it may be. If we know what it is, we can reverse it. “

You looked at him and wondered how someone like him came across a spell this old and what atrocities he had to commit to get a hold of it. Magic like this was not given out to anybody without affiliating to one of the more eclectic covens. You should know, that's what you´ve been doing for the past years. 

You were about to litter him with questions, but the opening of the screeching cabin door made you pause, and all questions washed away. 

“What have we here?" Mikael said from the doorway before stepping closer to examine Kaleb’s spell. " I have not seen this kind of magic in centuries.“ He looked at him with questioning eyes, observing his reaction as an indication as to end him or not. “How did you come to this knowledge?”

“Well, I've read a lot. You pick up a few things over the years.” He shrugged, and it was clear he had no intention of answering any questions “For example, this is based on a Viking age foretelling where they cut off a branch and sliced it into strips and marked them with different signs and threw them at random onto a cloth. Whatever stripes they picked up was the works of the gods. This is just a more definitive version.”

“Sounds easy enough. What do you need me to do?”

“I just need your blood” Kaleb replied. 

Ah, blood. The ingredient that was most dangerous in combination with magic. It was used for curses, binding spells and all sorts of nasty spells. Could you say you trusted someone you barely know with an ingredient like this? No. But Shank´s research from two days ago was fruitless besides revealing Kaleb's last name, so you had nothing to go on but your gut feeling. 

You bit into the thick flesh of your hand, and your blood pooled in your palm, ready to be used “Where do you want it?”

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The minutes dragged on with slow intent, waiting for them to die and move on to the next. The spell brewed, Mikael had left to an adjoining back room to rest and prepare for an uncomfortable fight he claimed to feel in the air. One would write off this premonition as ramblings of a crazy old man, but you can feel it too. Eyes somewhere distant, watching your every move. Claws ready to rupture skin. The question was, whose claws would draw blood first. The list of people that want to execute lethal force upon you had gotten embarrassingly long over the years, and guessing who was on top of that list equals a horse race with bets running high at all times. 

You used the waiting time and tried to decode the unlinking spell you had been working on for the last year. But the advanced incantations and spellwork scribbled on the dusty pages were more than you were capable of understanding. Still, you had to try. Not to kill Klaus, but to ensure your brothers and everyone in his sire line was safe if his enemies decide to multiply further. Knowing Klaus, he will trample on everyone's sandcastle like a toddler to prove his point and make enemies out of everyone if he had to. 

You glanced over to where Kaleb was chanting with his eyes closed, entirely concentrated on the whispered spell that´s supposed to reveal what the hell was wrong with you. You´ve been trying to find that out for centuries, so you did not hold out hope for a spell like this to work. 

Out of nowhere, your senses alerted you of a rustle in the bushes, very soft steps were coming from behind. So faint, it was almost mistakable as the wind. Your ears twitched. Two-legged. Not an animal then.

Kaleb picked up on the sudden change of stature and paused the chanting and shared a look of alertness. "You think it's him? The original?”

“Probably. Or about a thousand other people that want me dead, take your pick. You know of all the places to die this didn't make my list. Where is the blaze of glory and a badass backing track?”

Stepping outside into the cooling night air you kept your eyes on the treeline beyond where the sound came from, but it was clear without sparing too many seconds that there was only one person who would chase you here despite all spoken cautions. And that one wouldn't hide in the bushes. He would instead break a window in or kick the door down rather than hide like some common thief. So why was he silent? Something wasn't right. 

"Hey, I'll get some wood for the stove." You stated at high volume, masking your approach to whoever was out there. Wrapping your hands around the axe that penetrated a tree stump, you stepped into the open.

The rustling sound of bushes was persistent, dominating over the deafening sound of crickets near the body of water down the way. They moved from the left to the right, your eyes impulsively trained to pinpoint their movement. 

He watched as you disappeared into the bushes, only to appear seconds later, dragging someone behind you in the dirt. 

“Got him,” You said, hurling the unconscious stranger over your shoulder. 

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Minutes easily passed waiting for the stranger to wake from his scare. But he had no intention of cutting the wait short. His head was hanging low, almost touching his knees. Softly breathing he sat there, while you waited for any sign of movement. 

“How is he still unconscious?” You sighed. 

"You gave him quite the scare, I'm sure." 

"To be fair, that guy looks like he would be scared by a kitten." You said, eying him with pity "I think a nice wakeup call is in order."

"What are you thinking? Fire?" Kaleb chimed in. 

"You do know all of this is made out of wood, right?" You asked, pointing on the wooden interiors. 

"Don't tell me you don't like to set things ablaze." 

"I'm not one for setting anything on fire these days." You muttered, pushing the rush of guilt that enveloped you down where it belonged. Only thinking about the smell of fire, the embers that sprinkle into the air and the blasting heat that melted skin from bones, was enough to wish that you could dig a hole and be swallowed into the earth without abandon. 

But there was no time for it now. Perhaps there never will be. 

"You know let's not go the magic route." You continued "Sometimes all you need is a good slap in the face to get the day started."

"Sure, who needs caffeine if a slap in the face will do." Kaleb chuckled.

You closed in on the stranger and slapped him in the face with gusto, stirring him awake like an unexpected thunder. Realisation dawned on him when he blinked through his tired eyelids and saw your face 

“Oh shit, you're Y/N.” He tried to make a run for the door, but you pushed him back where he came from “Oh God, I'm so dead.”

“See?" You looked over your shoulder gesturing your hands toward the tied up stranger "That is how they usually react. With fear. Not all cocky and all-knowing like you were.”

“Well, I find your intimidation charming.” Kaleb grinned. 

"Sure, because me being scary is such an admirable quality."

"You know numerous ways to kill a man. It's hot." He shrugged unapologetically.

“Uh... "The stranger uttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "You know I´m still here, right? Not that I don't condone this flirting but-”  

"I'm not flirting." You defended adamantly. 

"Maybe. But he is, clearly not successfully.” The stranger let out a chuckle and immediately regretted it by the way Kalebs face delved into anger.  

Was that how people saw your early partnership with Kaleb? Did they assume you'd just fall into the arms of somebody else that quickly? If a stranger saw it, everyone else would too. You could already hear them talk behind your back, laughing at your broken promises and weak composure. What if those rumors were the only thing Kol would hear when he'd walk the earth again when you were dead and gone? You could not are the thought. However useful Kaleb was maybe you had to get rid of him after all. 

“Listen," You continued "If you tell me who sent you, I might let you live. Spoiler alert, probably not.”

"He said to look out for any sign of trouble, that's it. I'm- I don't want any trouble.”

“Who sent you. I want a name.” You asked again, all the while trying to think of who would send an amateur like him after you. These days everyone knew that he'd be gutted if he crossed your path. 

Following his continued silence you lowered yourself to his seated level, and with your fingers grazing his clothed chest you said “I wonder if you´ve ever had your chest opened before? Or do you prefer something more magical like boiling from the inside? I don't have much time to spare. So If you don´t talk, you´ll find out.” 

“Marcel, okay?!”The stranger spoke with hurry, “He was worried about you hanging out with this guy.” He nodded towards the door. You looked over your shoulder where Kaleb rolled his eyes so hard you swore they'd pop out any second. Eying the stranger again you took notice of his swooped dark hair, overly nervous yet intrigued inquisitive nature and his questionable taste in overly printed dress shirts. It dawned on you that this must be Marcel's friend he had been talking about endlessly. 

“Oh, you're his buddy. Josh!” You retreated your hand from his chest and stepped out of his personal space “Sorry for the well, unwelcoming welcome.”

"Yeah, it's becoming kind of a thing with everyone that hangs out with Count Dracula."

You grimaced at his words. "Do I look like I hang out with Klaus in my free time?" 

Josh considered for a moment, then shook his head "Yeah… probably not. From what I've heard you're more the stabbing him in the back type." His face fell when you raised an eyebrow and he added "Not that he didn't deserve it." 

Ah, that word again. Deserve. Nobody deserves anything. Often neither happiness nor grievances come to those who truly deserve them. It comes to those who consume them if they're entitled to them or not. The ones that persevere and push themselves up by kneeling others into the dirt. Those are the ones that take the good parts while the ones that truly deserve it shoulder the rest. That's the way of the world. Especially the supernatural one. And Klaus was both kneeling in the dirt and pushing others in it. You were unsure if he truly deserved what failed assassination attempt you brought upon him. You were not so sure you were worthy of being the judge, jury and executioner all on your own. Not anymore, and you had no idea if that was a good or bad thing.

“So uh.” Josh looked around the room awkwardly, an unspoken question written over his face. It was nothing new, they all had one if they dared to speak it out loud. 

“Ask what you want to ask.” You sighed.  

“The stories about you. Are they true?” He asked. Kaleb was interested too as his head snapped towards you in interest 

“Most of them.” You shrugged as you leaned against the table's edge behind you. You're not really in the mood to play interview with a vampire "And I think the worst is yet to come so better hurry back and tell Marcel to call off his protectors. I can handle myself. ”

“Yeah, I'd say. You're scary.” Josh headed for the door and dipped to the right only to appear a second later  “Uh, I have no idea where I am. "

“I assume you left your car near the church?” You asked and Josh nodded “It's about 20 miles northeast from here. Cell service is fickle, so just follow the trodden path.” 

"North East. Yeah right okay." He turned on his heels and headed outside again looking left and right to determine where to go. 

"That way." You pointed in the right direction and he thanked you with a round of finger gun before he disappeared. How Marcel has not gotten rid of him yet was beyond you. 

“Why does everybody keep saying that?" You returned to Kaleb side "Am I that scary?”

“Terrifying. In the best way.” He smiled and his gaze drifted to the floor before snapping back to your face. There was an intensity in his stare, unwavering and unrelenting in a way that kept your focus longer than it should have. 

When Kaleb's fingers drifted over your hand his breath hitched and grew still, and you had no intention of moving away. His calloused fingers grazed over your skin and had it not been for the immortal-ish aspects of you, your hands would be as callused, if not worse. 

When you slowly lifted your head to look at him he was so focused on his hand on yours that he did not seem to notice your shifted gaze. Your eyes drifted over his shadowed face, trying to pinpoint what about him it was that kept your attention. There was something familiar about him. The way he held himself, this unwavering confidence and charm that revelled in his authenticity. Perhaps you've met him before when grief had its hold on you, or during one of the anger engulfed moments or perhaps just passed by him on the streets. 

He felt familiar in a way that was comforting. Like a song you heard in passing that resurfaced with questionable intention and you´re left wondering why it felt as if you´ve heard it before.  He felt like bonding on public transport travelling with the same people day in and day out, only to miss them when they take a different route. Or the passing by someone on the streets wondering if it was a ghost of the past or someone that's just bearing a similar face. 

Reality hit soon after your wondering thought and unwavering guilt crushed you under its weight. You drew your hand away and Kaleb jumped at your sudden movement. 

Get a grip. What the fuck are you doing? 

No attachments. No distractions. 

“So, uh... “You cleared your throat, putting some distance between you. “The rune thing. You find anything?” 

“Let´s see.” He burdened a smile and returned to the table to find that etched lines have appeared on the bare stone tablets. 

“Interesting. These two are next to each other, almost connecting."He said, pointing at the first two stones. The first one symbolises strength. You're bound to an unmatched power, yet no that can't be right.”

“What is it?”

“This rune," He said and pointed to the second one "It symbolises power but as an outside force. You´re not tied to your own power."

"What the fuck does that mean?" 

"You're bound to something powerful and that power depletes your own when it is being used. Like a battery of sorts." 

"Too much power for me to handle, huh? Explains the nosebleeds, I guess. But what is it?" 

"Whatever it is it's unlike anything I've seen." Kaleb's further words drifted out of focus when a shower of calculated noises drenched the room. There was someone outside yet again. 

You interrupted his foretelling, holding a finger to your lips "We have another visitor. Stay here and don't come out."

Kaleb reached for your upper arm when you turned away from him and said "Don't go out there." 

You snapped out of his grasp swiftly glaring at him as you said; "You don't tell me what to do." It was a low blow, sure, but perhaps he would keep his distance or disappear before things got even more complicated. Perhaps acting like this will cast him away.

Turning the corner on the far side of the cabin you were met with a suave demeanour full of torment and rage and a newly found hopelessness you had yet to pinpoint its location.

“Oh good, you're here. Want a drink?” You offered a swig of the bottle on the table outside. 

“I'm in no mood to socialize,” Klaus declined sternly, the darkness parting for his body as he stepped onto the splintering wooden walkway.

“When are you ever?" You deadpanned, but Klaus was far from being amused. You tried to lighten the mood, but it was of no use. He was furious. No doubt Esther or her bootlicker of a son spilt the beans about the white oak. Handling matters delicately was never their strong suit. 

"I can tell by the look on your face that you're here to kill me.” You said, trying to soothe the oncoming onslaught of judgement that was heading your way  “I assume I deserve it, but can you tell me why this time? Just so I can keep track. ” 

Klaus dragged his tongue over his parsed lips letting out a pitiful hushed laugh before he sat next to you, staring ahead. “I was simply minding my own business - ruling, killing my enemies and what not - and low and behold what do I hear? The white oak stake has resurfaced in the hands of my mother. My my, word does travel fast among the damned, now doesn't it?“

“Well, I'm sorry the world isn't arranging itself for your schedule.”  You peered back at his expectant face. Anger was flaring through your blood, an amplified sensation whenever Klaus was near. “But I don't see why this is my problem?”

“Don´t be coy with me. This has your name written all over. Disruption the order of long-established rules of battle for your twisted little schemes." He trickled his fingers against the wind as if he was holding strings attached to a marionette to control at his will. No doubt, he viewed you as a puppeteer master these days. High praise indeed, especially coming from someone as wicked as him.  

“I want to know why." His voice was quieter, soft almost, as he spoke into the wind "Why did you defy me when I gave you nothing but trust?” The way he stared holes in the floor uttering these words rattled a rush of guilt that you never expected to be directed at Klaus of all people. Klaus was confident with threats and violence, but bearing himself open was something he barely had the courage for. 

“Let's not pretend that we trust each other just because we shared a sentimental moment. Once.” 

“You know, I find it fascinating that you believe you are invincible to my wrath.” He continued harsher, covering his vulnerability “Our agreement has been made null and void by your actions, and you don't seem to care. More so you seem to enjoy it. Why is that?”

“You´re the master schemer here, tell me, what do you think I'm doing?” You leaned forward, eager to know what he had to say. No doubt he´d see right through the parts you wanted him to see. The question was if he had any idea beyond that. He was the mighty Klaus after all, and more so he was smart.

“I'd say you're playing both sides, though the recent events convinced me of something else entirely. You're bold, fearless; striking without weighing the consequences. Suspicious, isn't it? Unless you have the upper hand.” He turned his head again, observing your reaction like a hawk. “Is this charade your grand plan? Aiding my mother in her endeavors by handing over the only weapon that could kill my family? I must say, I'm not impressed.”

“You think that's the only part? Just another revenge fantasy? And here I thought you finally learned not to underestimate me.”

“It is because I do not underestimate you that I came here.” He said. It was high praise indeed coming from him, even if it came with a trickle of insult to be compared to the likes of the big bad Klaus.

“Good call, not sending Elijah then. He'd kill me just for ruining his shoes in this terrain. But if this is the only reason you came then you can go right back to your castle and rule your kingdom because Esther doesn't have the real white oak. It's s copy.” 

Klaus cocked his head to the side, the lamps fire now perfectly reflecting in his eyes. The look of distrust was written over his face, yet there was no doubt that he was intrigued by the information you laid out.

“See? I´m not trying to play games here. I give you my word.” You added with the hope that at least your word had not lost its ´s value when everything else had. 

He paused, dragging his tongue over his bottom lips swiftly, weighing his responses. “Your word means nothing until you live up to it.” You nodded, a silent promise you had no idea if you could uphold. Who were you kidding, of course, there wasn’t any way you would not place his head on the chopping block if it came to it. This whole thing was nothing but polite stakeouts as a way to keep up with the other´s schemes. Problem was, Klaus would offer you up just the same without blinking. 

The old Klaus anyway. 

If you would listen to the things circulating about him as of late, you'd think he had lost his old tyrannic ways. Found some way to soothe his grudge with the world and became a better person. It was laughable. People don´t change, you found that they mask themselves, sculpting a new life out what the fires left behind. They don´t change, they overpaint. And it was time that the ones whispering about Klaus alleged newly-found compassion, learned that lesson too or they´d head for disappointment. Either way, they'd wake up.

Shuffling from inside averted your attention to the cabin where Mikael and Kaleb were still hidden. Klaus' interest was peaked when your eyes slanted over to the side and remained there for a moment. 

“What is it?” He questioned.

You forced your eyes forward, despite the impending doom running through your veins. “Thought I heard something. Probably just an animal somewhere. Or someone who wants to kill me. Take your guess. These days I'm almost as unpopular as you.” You laughed, quickly glancing through the window again.

Klaus followed your gaze again but saw nothing but an empty cabin. He turned and walked across the porch to look into the other window and although he could not see anything, Mikael was inside with his hands around Kaleb´s throat demanding him to grant his release from your boundary spell. Klaus knew that dealing with witches- even a half witch like you- did not mean that what was in front of your eyes was necessarily what was truly there.

“Well here's to living up to my promises.” You said as you made your way to the door. I guess I'll see you back in town, yeah?” You tried to get rid of him, but it was too late. Klaus' paranoia had already sounded the alarm in his head and snapped the door closed with a push of his hand. 

"Who is with you?" His voice was dangerously low and calm, which only predicted the worst.

"No one. You know I don't do well in team scenarios." You waved him off. You had to get rid of him or this whole plan will go to hell. Plus your new friend in there would suffocate if kept fighting Mikael. 

Without being aware, you took a step back on the brittle flooring denting it enough to let the staff that was still leaning near the door fall from his resting place. It rolled on the angled flooring right towards Klaus’ feet. At first, he glanced at it, but at the second look, his eyes grew wide. He'd recognize the bearing crest anywhere. Within the next heartbeat, he dragged his eyes from the floor and you were granted a look that put hellfire to shame. 

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

 Your heartbeat beat so loudly it seemed to want to escape your chest, to flee the oncoming slaughter. You were not one to run, to hide and cower in fear. But this was different. Klaus knew you brought his hateful father back to life and he was right outside a spelt door, ready to burn this place down if he had to. There was no reprieve. You knew that the beating of your heart was numbered, counting down to your own demise.

You could´ve made him bleed, unconscious or writhe in pain, but it would not hold him down forever. Nothing could. So you headed for the door which gave you the luxury of a few more minutes before he would skin you alive. Distance was all that mattered, even if that distance was a brittle door that if not for the magic seal would break in two by the way Klaus was hammering against it.  

“If you want to fight me, why are you running?” Klaus yelled and paraded on the porch like a lion in a cage that was ready to end his captors. You turned your back towards the rattling door, your attention now focused on Mikael who still had Kaleb in his grasp.

“Release me or I will end him!” Mikael said, his fingers digging into Kaleb´s neck, cutting off his air supply, ready to snap his neck like a twig if he had to. 

You balled your hand to a fist forcing Mikael to his knees to bear the pain of your magic “You think you're in any position to make demands?” You shared a look with a heavy breathing Kaleb and he nodded while grasping his neck, signalling he was fine, though hurt in his pride. 

“Enough games, Y/N!” You jumped at Klaus´s voice which invaded through the cracks in the walls. “Let's finish this. Is this not why you brought him for? I'm not afraid.” 

You opened the door with a flick of your free hand while Mikael was kept in place with the other. 

If you cannot fight them on your own, let them fight each other. 

There you stood between the devil and the deep blue sea, one decision worse than the next, one would bring hellfire while the other would leave you stranded on the bottom of the ocean. There was- without a doubt- no silver lining at the crossroads you arrived at. If you released Mikael and held up your end of the bargain Mikael would slay Klaus and with him his entire line. Your brothers would die. You would die sooner than expected and thousands of vampires would die by your hand. Your chance of getting Kol his life back would slip through your hands like sand in an hourglass.

However letting Klaus in to fight his father would either result in the same outcome or he'd kill Mikael and with it every bargaining chip - and if necessary threat- you had hidden in your hold. Either way, you were backed into a corner, and an animal in a corner always fought back.

You took a breath that was loaded with thought. The men in the room picked up on your hesitation and Klaus was the first that dared to speak. “Let him go. I can't wait to stand over his burning corpse. Only this time, I intend to enjoy it more. ” 

He knew what was on the line for you if you let them fight. He knew. And something in his face told of nothing but victory. So you let them go and chase each other to death. Hatred was useful in a fight and Klaus had more than anyone. He will win. He had to. 

Right? 

Kaleb watched from behind as you drew the curtain open to and surely enough there in the distance, beyond the scarce line of trees you saw them fight. They managed to disrupt each of their blows but even from afar you saw Mikael had the upper hand. He kicked Klaus onto the ground and knocked him flat on his back towering over him. 

"And you're going storm after them right about…" Kaleb counted on his wrist as if checking an imaginary clock.   Now." 

You shot him a glare with the doorknob already in your grasp. You exited with Kaleb only a few steps behind. You were already vamp speeding away when Kaleb collided with the boundary spell

"Of course." He sighed and took in the room he was now trapped in "I guess it's time to set this thing on fire."

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A/N: I know it has been....months. 2020 y´all. Shit´s crazy. In all seriousness, my life did a 360 this year - as it did with everyone- so please excuse my absolute snail speed with writing these days.But thank you to everyone that´s here right now at the end of yet another chapter. Please let me know if you have any thoughts!! 

Also I was proud of my little sneak sentence when she talks about Klaus being hopeless. Because you know, he´s without Hope. I rather liked that.

Open Coffin Series Taglist: (message me if you want on or off this list!)

@shadyladyperfection @akshi8278​​ @thegoddessofvampire @newurleans @originalbish98 @acourtofhopeanddreams @bonniebird @imnoaingeal @cherryblossomllama @relmi-llorrac @piercethepottorff @maliae14  @5-seconds-of-animals @the-geeky-engineer   @rock-n-magick @flymeawayworld @givemesomehybrid @mikealsonlover @nuteller28 @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99 @drkplum @fandooomqueenforyou @free-the-fangirl @clockworkballerina @twisted1ginger @superwholocksociopath474   @pacifyprincessxo @mustachio1616 @thealyana​ @sandyclaws @unicorntrooper​ @buckysummers​ @sanity-is-overratedxp​ @lunna-star-8​ @graysonmalfoy​ @woodworthti666​ @elenavaldez02 @lilulo-12​ @selmasemlan​ @thelostallycat​ @characterobsessed​ @cococola-cocaine​ @crazyinternetgirl @codenamewitcher​ @-thatgirloverthere-​  @alwxadria345​ @trymexo​ @mizzezm​ @willieshakesqueer​ @spunky-89​ @putyourherohaironstefan​ @xxdragonagequeenxx @thegingerthatwaited​ @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven​ @hinata7346​ @controloffandoms​ @sabrielflowers

#kol mikaelson #the originals #the originals imagine #kol mikaelson imagine #the originals fanfic #open coffin

[corxunum]

Get to know the mun! Repost, don’t reblog.   ——— 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.  (PEN)NAME: Evie PRONOUNS: she/her ZODIAC SIGN: Sagittarius TAKEN OR SINGLE: happily married   ——— 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄  𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒. 1. I finished a half-marathon when I was at my heaviest, and I´m pretty damn proud of that. (I lost a lot of that weight since then, but I wouldn´t be able to run like that again now. Getting old. LOL)

2. Due to a dramatic rift caused by my parents´ divorce, I´ve not had any contact with my mum for over 20 years but we found back together last year. I could not be happier!

3. I´m a nurse at a COVID ward. Not to get political on main but let me tell you, this is neither a joke, blown out of proportion or a ploy by the government. This is fkn serious.   ——— 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.  It´s kinda funny how I got into roleplay in the first place. My gateway “drug” to the MCU were Thor and X-Men first class. After watching (and obsessing a little over) those I joined multiple FB fandom groups, and met a lot of like-minded people. Whenever I was googling material though, I somehow always ended up on Tumblr, which eventually led me to making my own first blog, a personal, fandom one. Damn, what a rabbithole! I became pretty active and my blog surprisingly popular, and I started writing my first Marvel fanfics a couple months in. But that proved not to be satisfying enough for me - I wanted to interact with my favourite characters too, and finally found the rp corner of Tumblr. I made my first blog (Nika) for the X-Men universe that I wrote on for several years, while consecutively adding more muses over time. I have partners I have been writing with since then and made so many great memories. Getting into big fandoms on here can be kind of tough, but I learned to take things with a grain of salt sometimes and I´m now happier than I ever could be, thanks to my amazing writing partners. THANK YOU ALL!

  ——— 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄  𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.  I try making muses that all have deep flaws and struggle with themselves or their life choices/circumstances, while putting on a different facade for their unsuspecting environment. I love the ambiguity and contradictoriness. Those are the most challenging and interesting to write for me.     ——— 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅  /  𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓  /  𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓.    FLUFF: I love fluff! In doses, though. Give me angst to balance it with, and we´re golden. Anybody say hurt/comfort???  ANGST: My favourite! It gets you to the edge of your seat and forces the muses out of their comfort zones. Hereby you all have my explicit permission to hit me with the angst train whenever you wish. SMUT: I was never a fan of porn without plot. If the muses develop to the point of getting it on within a reasonable plot, I´m happy to write it out - if the other mun is comfortable as well. I used to write a lot more back in the days, but most pairings on here are still pretty new and I like taking my time. If we´re cool OOC, we can, if we skip it, it´s fine too. As long as we´re all having fun, I´m in. PLOT/MEMES: I keep saying it, but I prefer having a general direction of where the muses are heading. Not a complete plot start to finish, but a goal to work towards. Memes are fun to throw in between to explore scenarios you might not have had the chance to write (yet) or to take a glimpse into their future, or even past. Memes are so much fun but not the very best to base a whole interaction on. That´s why I´m not too big a fan of open starters either. I like to be more specific, and discuss things a bit beforehand to get a feel for both muse and mun.   tagged by: @wexarethewalkingxdead - thank you :D tagging: @warrioroflondonbelow @ericbrandonrp @we-are-the-league @skyler-bane and anyone who feels like doing this!

#OOC [ mun ]

[sulfurousdreamscapes]

He dances by himself, his pale dove-feather skin a flash in the melee of the club's dance floor. The sustained firing of the drums feels like it radiates off him, efflorescent salt shimmering in a cloud, the vocals drench him in misery and ecstasy. He's living the song. He's feeling the light, now as always.

Your drink won't buy him. He's looked at you a few times already, but you're not sure if he's seen you. The way he looked at you, he was staring at your grave and etching an epitaph on it.

The drums settle, the guitars whine to a dog's death, and as the deejay transitions into a mellower song, he walks towards you. He makes a compelling case for a walking snake. Slender, elegant, like he's choreographed every step and then realised it with greater beauty.

You sense a bitter taste behind your palate. This time, black goes first.

"Nice moves," you say. No shame in checking him out, top to bottom to top. If he's going to be such a killer to you, then you'd might as well make the most of it.

"I hate the slower songs," he says. His voice is a youthful brand of deep, the sort of voice you'd hear from an overly mature teenage boy, or a demon in hell.

"Me too," you say. You fucking liar.

He takes your drink and puts it to his lips. You notice how his fingers don't all grip the glass, just the two that are necessary. He watches you while he drinks, watches you like you watch a nailgun with all the worst thoughts coming to your head.

When he puts it down, it's empty. He makes a pained expression, and he shakes his head. You wait for the explanation, and he holds up a hand for a little while, before thumping his heart a few times. His veins looks just about ready to pop off of his hand.

"It's gone," he says, clinks the glass with his fingernails. "Bad pill in a good drink."

You look at the drink again, and the lights are disorienting and the music is too loud now, and did the man always have the tattoo of an eel on his arm?

There isn't a single grain of whatever pill was in that drink.

"Are you going to be okay?" you ask. You look around, and the men look like wolves and sheep all at once. You can't even tell what or who you are anymore. You just remember a car, and a drive in the rain, and you were with your family in another time—a happy time. But the man won't let you go there.

"Here's a good one," he says, and the music picks up. He's already off of the bar stool, and his body is flowing by itself. "I'll be okay."

"I'm going to go," you say. You've been learning how to leave without disappearing. This is the first time it's come naturally to you.

"You'll be okay too," he says. You think he means it.

#writing #writeblr #words #spilled ink #spilled words #daily writing #original fiction #original prose #short story #short stories #short fiction #fiction #flash fiction #flash fic #creative writing #literature #prose #spilled prose #writers #writers on tumblr #really played with the descrips in this one #need to write like this more often #inspired by the music of bauhaus