#she was nine and ten. he’s been in prison i believe for the past two years now. or at the very least one year. i hate all the lying and

[flippedorbit]

i truly wish my mom would tell my sister the truth

#Rasp Rambles #more specifically about santa and all that. because i personally hate the fact that i have to still pretend to believe for my sister becaus #our mom refuses to tell her the truth that santa isn’t real. i also am still upset with my mom from when i was about seven or eight when i #found out on my own that he wasn’t real and every adult in my life had lied to me for years about it. like my sister is twelve. i still #hold resentment over being lied to for years over this. and she’s been lied to about it for longer. #same thing about our father being a piece of shit who put all of our lives in danger. almost fucking constantly. #he drank and did drugs all the time. he never had a job and would sell weed. our mom was working two jobs most of life because he couldn’t #get his shit together even once. not even after my sister was born. and he’s been in jail or prison since my sister was about nine. #that’s three whole fucking years where my sister has had no clue out dads been to those places. he was in and out of jail several times whe #she was nine and ten. he’s been in prison i believe for the past two years now. or at the very least one year. i hate all the lying and #sheltering and overprotection. this is the kind of shit that will hurt her so much worse when she finds out on her own

[darklydeliciousdesires]

From Blood, Love and Courage - Chapter Twenty + Epilogue.

Well, guys, here are at the end, ready to wave bye bye to Lily and Angel. Thank you so much for joining me while I told their story, I appreciate all the interaction more than you could ever know! Such loyalty means the world to me :) 

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen

Words - 5,436

Tag list - In the comments, please message to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“You’re very lucky, Lils. No stitches, but just try and keep off your feet for a while, no excessive walking around, and change the dressings twice a day.” Maggie advised, sitting with Lily’s feet in her lap, after Angel had called her. He’d hated waking her up so late, but Lily flatly refused to attend the ER in order to have her feet looked at by a doctor. She and Bishop had left Josh on babysitting watch and headed right over.  

Turning back to his president in the kitchen, where they’d just worked together to sweep up every last bit of broken glass and smashed plates, he sighed, closing the door behind him. “Bish, what the fuck do I say to her? All of this we just cleared up, it ain’t out of her yet. It was only ever gonna be something she’d rid herself of at the point we put Johnny in front of her, and now that’s been snatched away. Fuck.”

God, there wasn’t anyone in their circle who wouldn’t sympathise with that, at Lily having her chance to get even taken from her in such a way, Bishop knew that, but still, he chose his words carefully. “She can still get him, it just won’t be directly. Wherever he ends up, it’ll likely be with an incarcerated Mayan. Her justice will be handled by the club, this I promise you, Angel. We’ll make him wish he were dead for what he did to her, and all those other women. She was right, wasn’t she? Thinking that this was something he’d perhaps turned to in the past, like when you told me she’d wondered if he’d date raped anyone or the like, just shortly after you guys discovered he’d left for Thailand.”  

Angel nodded, eyes widening. “Except with Lily, he knew she wasn’t an easy target. All those other chicks, I don’t know. I guess the dead body in the desert was the only way we’d know otherwise, if he’d leaned on him before. Doubtful, though.” He then paused. Something hit him as he jerked his head towards the backdoor, picking up a joint from the tin atop the microwave on the way. Bishop followed him out, taking the refuse sack full of glass and putting it into the trash before joining Angel at the table. “I just thought of something. Rapists, they’re often segregated because they’re targets, on completely different wings to where any of our guys would be housed within the prison.”

Bishop shrugged, taking the joint offered to him. “Guards can be paid off, mano. There’s always gonna be a way. Johnny fucking Boswell will get what’s coming to him. Believe me, if I could think of a way to smuggle Lily in there, I’d do it.” Taking a drag on the joint, he held the smoke deep in his lungs, recognising the sweet, potent weed to have been from the South African dealer whom Lily used to live below. Johan was an excellent purveyor, Bishop feeling his head begin to spin a little. “The most concerning thing you, or rather we, because we’re all Lily’s family now, have to worry about is her not being able to dial back her anger.”  

Angel raised his eyebrows, taking the joint back. “Yep, I hear you loud and clear, bro. It’s the stage of her recovery I was quietly waiting for, the pure fucking venom. I mean, I guess her being into MMA is perfect, she can take out a lot of that shit in the octagon. It’s just getting her to reconcile that her specific target ain’t ever gonna be the one she gets a shot at now.” He took a drag on the joint, shaking his head, supressing a cough. “I still can’t fucking believe he did it, man. Like, what the fuck? As Lily quite rightly said, they settle their beef in the octagon. They don’t do that that low down, worthless excuse of a man did.”

Bishop looked thoughtful for a minute, before revealing his thoughts. “I can’t help but wonder how many of these victims who’ve come forward, actually came after Lily’s defeat of him, him attempting to redress the balance, since her beating him in less than a minute had to have been a massive sting to the pride of a man who already viewed women so lowly as to treat them in such a way.”

Angel hadn’t actually considered that prior to hearing the statement, but it gave him pause for thought. Just then, they heard a crash from inside the house, both men sitting a little taller, wondering if this was Lily amping up for round two of her destructive rampage, before a giggle was audible.  

“Help me! She’s deceptively heavy!” Maggie cried as she appeared in the doorway, somewhat precariously carrying Lily on her back, staggering, the latter holding a bottle of tequila and a few shot glasses. Bishop was out of his seat first, lifting Lily into his arms and carrying her over to a chair, placing her feet up on the table.  

“See? At least I didn’t break the essentials,” she spoke, gesturing to the bottle, pouring out three shots, Maggie quickly heading back in and grabbing the bottle of sparkling water Lily had told her to help herself to from the fridge, on account of her being on driving duties. Angel felt his shoulders drop a little for hearing her make a joke, yet the comedy of it didn’t quite reach her eyes. He knew that beneath the exterior, she was still seething.  

“Lily, I want to vouch to you the same as I just did Angel. Wherever this guy ends up, because with all the charges against him, there’s no way he ain’t going down for ‘em, we’ll get him. I know to give what he had coming to him was what you wanted, but in lieu of that being possible, we’ll make him suffer. Don’t you worry about that,” Bishop told her, Lily nodding as she chewed the side of her thumb.  

She looked down at her feet, feeling like a fool for having such a meltdown, before her eyes found his. “I appreciate that, Bish. Thank you.” He nodded, satisfied by her answer. Angel knew, though, that it wouldn’t be so easy. And it wasn’t.  

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he spoke one morning as they got ready for work, Lily once again running Johnny’s name through Google, checking for any updates in the case.  

“Four more women have come forward, look.” Turning her phone, she showed him the article, Angel skim reading through it, feeling bile lick at his insides. One of them even claimed she’d been held hostage by him for an entire weekend. Fuck, that guy was utter dirt. “I have to keep my eye on it, I need to know what’s happening.”  

“Alright,” he began, reminding himself he needed to remain diplomatic and sensitive to her feelings, but also enforce that checking it every morning wasn’t going to do her any good. “I understand that you need to keep updated on it, but it’s making you so fucking angry all the time, baby. I mean, yesterday for example, you bit my head off for no reason, after you’d been sitting reading about it. I know that you’re pissed off that what we’d planned won’t happen, I know, but this guy, he ain’t getting away with any of it, is he? It ain’t like he’s gone on the lam and can’t be found. He’s in the next best place he can be, other than the unmarked grave he deserves.”

She sighed, taking a deep breath. She knew she’d been acting out of hand since she’d found out, but she was finding it very hard to reconcile, having her chance denied to her, to get even with him. “I know, I hear what you’re saying, Angel. I just... I need to know.”

“Does it make you feel better for knowing, any calmer?”

Fuck. He had a point. “Nope, I suppose it doesn’t.”  

“Then why are you doing it?” There it was, the uncomfortable truth she needed to face. All she was doing was feeding her aggression, her rage. While recovering, she’d taken steps not to feed her fear and sadness, letting others help her along the way. She knew right at that moment that this was what she needed to do now, too, in the next step on her path to recovery. “I can’t stand idly by while you torture yourself, querida. I can’t do it. I’m not exactly sure what I can do, or say, to make all of this better for you. Just know that I want to, and I’m here for you, like I always have been and will be.”

That helped, his pledge to be there for her as she dealt with this new shift in her recovery, the anger she couldn’t reconcile. While Angel might not have been able to find the words, she knew one man in her life would, the man who had an uncanny knack of always being able to offer something to make her feel better. As soon as he saw her upon his arrival later that day, he knew something was wrong.  

“What’s up, Lilypad? You still pissed about the scumbag?” Taza asked, joining her on the couch outside the clubhouse.

“I am, yeah. I mean, I know it was a week and a half ago now, that I found out, but I just can’t shake it. This need I have to get my own back on him, and it’s been taken from me. But then, see, then I feel selfish, because he’s getting what he deserves, and I think to myself, what if his ex and those women hadn’t have come forward, he’d have died and they’d never have gotten their own resolution. I’d have gotten mine, but they’d have been stuck wondering.”

Taza nodded, grasping her hand. “Imagine for a second, you had of given him what he deserved and beaten him to a pulp, got in there before those other women did. Then, imagine if they had come forward, and a manhunt for Johnny had followed such. That would have put all of us in a hell of a lot of trouble. That’s just a what if, though. What we need to focus on is what you’ve been left with. I understand you’re going to be angry, but really, where does that anger lead to? What does it get you?”

“Nothing?”

He nodded. “Correct. No matter how angry you are, and nobody could blame you for being so, it doesn’t change the course of events that have led us to today, and where you presently sit with it all.”  

She sighed, lifting his arm and wrapping it around her shoulder, resting her head to his chest. “I don’t know how to sit with it all though, dad. How do I make it right with myself?”

Taza beamed, feeling his heart swell. She’d gotten into the habit of it on occasion now, referring to him as dad. He loved it. “Well, the original plan to do that was to get your revenge on Johnny. You can still do that, in a way.”

Her head lifted quickly. “I can?”

He chuckled, rubbing her arm affectionately. “Of course, you can, kid. You wanna know how? You get your revenge by living your life and doing all of the things he’ll never be able to do again. He’ll be there, locked up in a cell, while you thrive, continue rising through the MMA ranks, eventually get to go pro, because we will see you within the UFC one day, my darling, you’re too talented a fighter for that not to happen, and everything else good in life you have waiting for you right around the corner. Right now, though, there’s a huge wall built before that corner, and you know what you have to do to it, don’t you?”

She did. The wall he referred to; it was her anger. He was right. She wouldn’t turn the corner until she tackled it. “Smash it to pieces?”

He smiled, tightening his arm around her and kissing atop her head. “That’s my girl.”

It didn’t happen overnight, and Lily did struggle with it, but she had so much support around her, from her family in the club and her friends, even if those friends sometimes didn’t know what a tonic they were to her, because they didn’t know the full story. Since leaving the coffee shop, Lily sadly hadn’t had much time to see her beloved Carlos often, until one afternoon when he finished work early, and decided to pop down to the scrapyard. It was, as Lily had once predicted, a sight of absolute hilarity.  

“Honey, you look dazed. Are you alright?” she asked, a wide-eyed Carlos approaching the counter and handing her a cup of takeout coffee, kissing her cheek. 

“There’s tattooed, jacked guys everywhere. I mean... oh god. Menopause. Who is that?” he cried, fanning himself as Bishop walked past the window.  

“That’s the club president, Obispo. Everyone calls him Bishop, though,” she replied, Carlos almost going into meltdown when the man himself came into the office. Immediately, her friend ran into the restroom, prompting her snort of laughter. Bishop looked between her and the space Carlos had just occupied, jerking his head in the direction of the bathroom, the sound of a tap running audible.  

“Is your friend alright?” he spoke quietly, Lily, beckoning him closer with her hand.  

“I think he has a little crush on you.” Bishop hummed a chuckle, his grin beginning to spread. “Don’t you do it!” she hissed, knowing how playful he could be with such information.  

“What’s his name?”

Lily couldn’t help but snort with laughter. “Bish!” She told him eventually, Bishop leaning back casually against the counter, greeting Carlos with a very wide grin as soon as he emerged.  

“Hey, Carlos,” he spoke warmly, winking. “How you doing?”

“Oh, papi, I am a snow cone on a hot summer’s day,” he began, Lily hissing with hysterics. “Melting!”

“I’m told I have that effect,” he nodded, trying not to laugh as he grinned, Carlos visibly flustered. “It’s nice to know I’ve still got it.”  

“Oh man, you got it about nine times over!” Carlos cried, picking up some of Lilys paperwork and fanning himself with it, Bishop finally cracking, exploding with laughter, just as Angel walked in.  

“Hey!” he began, pointing at Bishop. “You tryin’ to get some of my boy?” he yelled, approaching.  

“What? Don’t like the competition?” Bishop replied. Carlos fanned the paper so hard at that point, it was close to disintegrating.  

“Fucking coming in here, making your moves on my boyfriend,” Angel muttered, grabbing Carlos, hauling him over his shoulder and smacking his ass. “You’ll damned remember who you belong to!” He strode out of the office, Lily hanging onto the counter as she screamed with laugher, Carlos looking overjoyed through his own hysterics. Angel finally putting him down and giving him a hug. “It’s good to see you, man. How’ve you been?” he asked, walking back in, all stupid dicking around over.  

Carlos stayed for a while, calming down in the presence of so many of his ideal type of men, enjoying his afternoon visit before leaving with Lily, who ran him back over to his place on her way to the gym.  

“It was so good to see you. You look really happy, you know. I mean, I know I go on about him, and do you blame me, your guy is just fucking hot as hell, but I love Angel. For how much he loves you and makes you happy. You look all sparkly,” Carlos told her after they hugged goodbye, Lily smiling, reaching to stroke his cheek.

“I am really happy, and he’s a big part of that.” They promised to make the effort to see each other more often, Carlos hopping out of her car and giving the roof a little pat with his hand before she drove off, her smile still firmly in place as she realised something. She meant it. She was really happy. Sure, there were still moments where she felt a near uncontrollable, burning rage when she thought of Johnny, but she quickly remembered Taza’s words. She was thriving, and he was locked away in a cell, awaiting trial.  

Either that, or she channelled that anger into her training. It made excellent fuel to keep sharp, strong and decimating.  

“So, there’s a big fight night up in Hollywood in ten weeks from now, and I want you in it. You’re back at great form after your forced break, in fact, you’re sharper now than you ever have been. I think you’re ready to get back out there.” Larry spoke, while she stood unbinding her hands at the end of her session

His words were met with slight trepidation, and to be honest, Lily truly had no idea why. She’d faced sparing absolutely fine, receiving punches, kicks and takedowns without so much of a flicker of being triggered by it. Although she agreed, knowing it was taking a step in the right direction, she still discussed it with Angel later that night, while they lay at opposite ends of their new, and very big bathtub, a contented Charlie hopping around the bathroom floor, playing with an almost empty toilet paper roll he’d pilfered for himself, tossing around torn up bits of tissue and shouting with glee.  

“So, no trauma there, right?” Angel double checked with her after she’d detailed her feelings of nerves. “Because if there is, you probably shouldn’t do it. The octagon is the last place you wanna risk having a meltdown, baby.”

She shook her head, applying pressure to the centre of his foot until something cracked. He always had trouble with the left one, after he’d ended up breaking something many years ago in a motorcycle accident. “Nope, absolutely not, and it’s surprising because I truly thought I would have, but nope.” Placing his foot back down in the water, she grabbed her deep conditioner pot, beginning to coat her hair in it. “I think it might just be because I missed my last match, and people talk in our circle. I’m scared that perhaps I’ll be seen as less than, because I bet it’ll have gotten around, the reason I told Larry, at least, that I was beaten up and robbed.”  

“What, and you think people are gonna judge you for it?” he asked, frowning a little.  

Lily shrugged, placing the top back on her conditioner pot. “I hate to say it, but yeah. I think they might.”

“Well, that gives you the extra incentive to go out there and fucking kick ass, doesn’t it?” It also gave him extra incentive, too, to have a little surprise there for her at her big night, one that Lily didn’t discover until walking out of the locker room at the venue ten weeks later, floored to see the entire club standing there.  

“Oh my god!” she cried. “What are you guys all doing back here?”

“MMA fighters have big circles of their support system there to walk them out, so we figured we’d be yours,” Bishop told her with a grin, opening his arms when she moved to hug him. She only thought Angel and Taza were going to be there, so to see them all there, supporting her in her first match back on the circuit, it almost moved her to tears. If she had a family in the world, it was each of them.  

She hugged them all, turning lastly to Angel, kissing him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweet pea,” he smiled, stroking her cheek. “Now you go knock that bitch flat.” She laughed, gathering her composure then, hearing her entrance music filtering through the venue, the veil of the savage descending over her as she walked out, flanked by her guys, Larry and Ernesto leading the way, her thoughts all revolving around the octagon, where her opponent, Morgan Harris pranced and prowled the perimeter. She was a tough opponent, the two women knowing of one another and respecting each other hugely, although never having fought before.  

Still, that respect could only go so far. Lily was still determined of one thing. She was going down.  

It wasn’t an easy fight, Morgan was quick, strong and guessed her moves easily, but still, the fourth round was where Lily came alive, whereas her opponent began to tire and falter. In the past, she had channelled her anger and resentment towards her mother and used such as a driving force behind her performance, but this time, it was the thoughts of her last remaining attacker who drove her to plant her fists so venomously into Morgan’s skull, that as soon as she got a lock on her and took her down to the canvas, she won via knockout.  

Exhausted, hurting and bleeding from her eyebrow, Lily got up as the bell rang, running to the side of the octagon and hurling herself up to the top, standing aloft, her arms raised in victory as she watched the guys cheering her win, realising as she looked out over the crowd that suddenly, it didn’t matter whether she got to dish out her justice on Johnny Boswell personally. It didn’t matter one single bit, because there in the octagon, her playground of brutality, brutality on her terms and no one else’s, she’d found herself again.  

She was Lily Armstrong, MMA fighter. She was not Lily Armstrong, rape victim. After stepping out of the steel structure and taking a moment with Larry and Ernesto, she soon discovered she was about to become so much more, too.  

“Lily?” a well-dressed man spoke, just as she was about to enter the locker room, holding out his hand for her to shake. “Hi, my name is Kurt Brolin, and I’m a scout for the UFC...”  

.

.

.

Epilogue

Ten months later

“Charlie, get the green one. Come on, man, we did this. Show mama how smart you are,” Creeper encouraged, Charlie considering his choices at the array of little craft pom poms laid out upon the bar in the clubhouse. Even though Lily no longer worked at Romero Brothers, Charlie remained a main fixture, coming in with Angel every day, finally tolerating Lily’s replacement enough to share office space with her.  

Growing tired of Carol and her sour attitude, Jodie had filled the vacancy when Lily had turned pro in her MMA career almost a year previously, making a big effort to win the often-cantankerous bird over. It had cost her a small fortune in toys and trail mix, but now he happily sat on her shoulder for most of her working day when not on his day perch, or being taken around the yard on his harness while sitting on the shoulder of any of the Mayans whom he also didn’t mind.  

Charlie paced around, shaking his head before picking up the green pom pom, taking it to Creeper’s outstretched hand. “There you go! Now get me the yellow one.” Immediately, the yellow one was picked up, Creeper giving him an almond. “And with that, y’all owe me fifty bucks a pop. Told you I could get him to recognise colours!”  

“Pay the cash!” Charlie squawked, everyone in fits.

“Yeah, you tell ‘em, bro!” Creeper enthused, scratching his head. The assembled men paid up, Creeper talking half of his winnings and handing them to Lily. “Here, because he’s your bird. It’s only fair.”  

“You know what, I’m not gonna refuse!” she laughed, taking the money and kissing his cheek. She had a little last minute Christmas shopping to do, so an extra two hundred dollars definitely would come in handy, even though she was earning some damned good money now, ten months into her professional career. Travel ate up huge amounts of it, though, it had to be said, her recent trip taking her to New York, for example.  

Her notoriety was growing, as well as her winning streak, her first professional fight sadly resulting in a loss, but Larry and Ernesto drumming it into her that one loss did not speak volumes for who she was as a fighter, getting her ready to go out there and slay on her next bout, one that had been televised, her guys in the club as well as her friends all assembling there at the clubhouse to watch her, all bar Angel and Taza, who had travelled to Washington with her, supporting her there in person.  

Speaking of Taza, a little later that night, he called her over to where he was sitting at the bar, taking a large envelope from the inside of his kutte.  

“Here,” he began as she sat down. “Your Christmas present. You can open it a week early.” He just had to hope she liked what was inside, but after consulting Angel about it, felt fairly confident that she would.  

Lily opened the manilla envelope with curiosity, her hand flying to cover her mouth when she read what was inside.  

“Oh my god!” she sobbed, her eyes filling with tears. There in her hand, she held something simply unbelievable, a gesture so beautiful, she didn’t know what else to say at being presented with the paperwork needed to file an adult adoption. “Oh my god!” she cried, actually breaking down, throwing her arms around Taza’s neck. “I love you so much!”

“I love you too, Lilypad,” he told her, kissing her head.

“Are you sure?” she wailed, not able to compose her tears, Angel explaining the scene to those who asked him what the fuss was about, a chorus of soft exclamations going around the club, Lily finally laughing at Jodie’s loud squeak of ‘That’s so fucking adorable!’ over everyone else.  

Taza shrugged, beaming a broad smile. “I gotta leave my Harley to someone.” He received another huge hug, Lily absolutely stunned. “So, you wanna go down to the courthouse in the morning and file it?”  

“Yes!” she screamed. “Oh my god, you’re gonna be my dad!”  

He chuckled, stroking her back lovingly. “I’ve been your dad for almost two years now. This just makes it official.”  

“Should I change my name while we’re there? Lily Romero. I like it!” she asked, Taza making an indecisive face.  

“You might want to wait on that, kid.”

She looked a little puzzled. “Why?”

“Just trust me.”

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.

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The snow-capped absolutely everything in sight as Lily stood out on the balcony, trying to escape the noise from within the cabin of Jodie and EZ fucking the living hell out of one another. At least she and Angel had had the courtesy to keep their Christmas morning sex a little quieter.  

“For the love of Christ, man!” Angel shouted from inside. “Put some music on!” Ten seconds later, and the sound of Jodie’s iPhone playlist drowned out the sexual marathon, Angel coming out onto the balcony and handing Lily the glass of eggnog she’d requested. They were staying in cabin accommodation within a big hotel complex in Colorado, the girls spending the last few months talking about how they’d never seen a white Christmas and would love to experience it, Angel and EZ surprising them with the trip in order to make that happen.  

That year, she thought she’d received the best present ever in being adopted by the man she adored beyond measure, the surprise gifted trip only adding to it.  

“Damn, it’s fucking cold as shit!” Angel spoke, cuddling her from behind. “But seriously fucking beautiful. We should do this every year, baby.”  

She nodded, turning to kiss his cheek. “Yeah, it’d be a nice tradition, wouldn’t it? Once us toasty southern Californians get used to it being this bitter!”  

“Oh,” he suddenly exclaimed, reaching around her with a cinnamon stick and putting it into her glass. “Almost forgot that.” Kissing her cheek again, he excused himself, saying he wanted to go get his phone and take a few more Christmas morning pictures. It was while he was off locating his cell that Lily looked down at the cinnamon stick, noting it looked a little strange.  

“What the?” she began, setting the glass down on the rail, picking up the stick of spice and pulling out the rolled-up piece of paper from within. Opening it up, she read the second set of words upon a piece of paper to make her cry that week, these ones being handwritten, though.  

‘Will you marry me?’

Gasping, she spun around, looking down to see Angel there behind her and not locating his phone, down on one knee, flicking a ring box open. “Don’t you ever dare tell me I can’t be romantic.”  

“I never said you couldn’t!” she cried, clasping her hands over her mouth in shock.  

“Well, just in case you ever decide to in the future,” he put to her, grinning wider. He knew her answer already, but still... “So, what’s it to be?”

There was only one answer she could give.  

While Lily was receiving her happily ever after, there was one man who, just over a month later, would finally get exactly what was coming to him. Because of an abundance of complications, further victims coming forward, hassles with legal teams and finally, after his incarceration for a sentence of forty-three years for his crimes against a total of nineteen women, Johnny Boswell was about to receive a little extra to what had already been handed to him. A plan devised by certain other inmates at the behest of their brothers on the outside was finally put in motion one day in early February, Johnny on his cleaning duties in the back storeroom of the prison kitchens when he suddenly found his exit blocked by three very large Mexicans.  

“Can I help you?” he asked, the largest stepping forward, grasping his shoulder, leaning close to his ear.  

“Lily Romero-Reyes sends her regards.”  

“Who?” Johnny blurted.  

“The girl you raped and thought you got away with, the only one who didn’t come forward,” he began, shoving a hand over his mouth, the other two surging forward, pulling down his blue fatigues. “You made the mistake of harming a woman who is both the wife of one of our brothers, and the daughter of another. For that, we handle the punishment.”  

Johnny felt his balls grabbed before like a flash, a razor-sharp blade cut them from him, the punishment given directly from his victim’s father, the three men moving out of there quickly, leaving Johnny to howl in agony. While he bled out on the floor, Lily walked across the sand of the sun-soaked Hawaiian beach, hand in hand with her new husband, enjoying her honeymoon.  

“Hey!” she exclaimed, pointing to where Angel’s cell rang in the back pocket of his pants. “We said no phones!”

“Yeah,” he confessed, taking it out and seeing the name flashing across the display. “I think you might want to make an allowance here, though.” Answering it, he listened as they came to a stop, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist, smiling at the news before passing his phone to her. “It’s your pop.”

“Hey dad,” Lily spoke brightly.

“Hey kid,” Taza began, settling down on the couch in the clubhouse. “How’s the honeymoon going?”

“Absolutely amazing! How are things back home? How’s Charlie?”

Looking up, Taza laughed at the scene in front of him, Charlie sat on Jodie’s shoulder, throwing his snacks in tantrum and jabbering nonsense, purely because Hank had the utter audacity to be within five feet of him. “He’s his usual self,” he replied through a rumble of laughter. “Anyway, I have some news for you that I think you might enjoy hearing. The bull was castrated an hour ago.”  

She closed her eyes for a moment, nodding, feeling a lump rise in her throat. “Thank you. I love you so much.”

“Love you more, kid. Speak to you soon, alright?”

“Alright, dad. Bye.”  

It was all over. It was the very last piece to be put into the puzzle of healing, slotting in neatly, Lily handing Angel his phone back with a smile.  

“You happy?” he asked, wrapping her up in a hug.  

She leaned up and kissed him, that soft kiss all the answer he needed. Looking out over the horizon, watching the pink sunset begin to descend, Lily realised that happy was exactly what she was, now she had gotten everything she’d ever wanted.

The End.  

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[mymoodwriting]

The Forgotten Truth

F!Reader x Suho

Genre: CEO/Yandere AU

Warning: Blood, Choking, Guns, Drugs, Needles, Death

Words: 2.9K

Chapters:

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Epilogue

Prompt: After surviving a devastating car accident you awoke with amnesia, no memory of who you were, and the only connection to your past was your husband, Suho. The CEO of the biggest pharmaceutical company in the world, who loved you to the ends of the universe, even if you didn’t remember. You knew his love was true, cause you felt your love for him in your heart. Three years later you’re as happy as you can be with him, but there’s just something that’s not right, and you’re not so sure you can figure out what.

“For the last time… I work alone…”

    Johnny spit out some blood, surprised he hadn’t lost a tooth yet. It was also fortunate, his smile was very important to his charm. Suho stood before him, hands in his pockets, watching unbothered as Minho kept punching him. He had already given his story, how he planned his revenge and only had to tweak it when he discovered you were alive. He worked alone, because he knew no one else could help him take down the king.

“You really expect me to believe you didn’t have help?”

“Who would raise a fist… against you?”

“A king always has enemies.”

“And what would stop them… from betraying me… to win your favor? Hm?”

“Touche. So let’s circle back to this later.” Suho grabbed Johnny’s face. “What’s your end goal here? Take over the city? You think you-”

“No… I just want you dead… for everything you did to me… and y/n…”

“I gave you both a much better life, and you hate me for it. That doesn’t make sense.”

“You manipulated y/n… and when she rejected you… you became a monster…”

“Johnny boy, I’ve always been a monster.”

“And y/n saw that… can put that shit back in a bottle…”

“We’re done here. It doesn’t matter if you had help, you were the inside man, and with you dead, they have nothing else.”

“What about y/n!”

“What about her? She’ll be fine if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll take good care of her.”

“I don’t believe that. I never did.”

♥♥♥♥♥

    As you began to regain consciousness you could feel movement. You were moving, and when you opened you only got confirmation. You were being pushed in a wheelchair, and you could see the house before you, getting closer and closer. Except it wasn’t a home for you anymore, it was a prison, even if you didn’t know it all this time. You began to panic as the house got closer and closer, that’s when you realized you were restrained to the chair. Screaming wouldn’t help you either, the house was pretty isolated from anyone else.

“Stop… stop… please stop!”

    You looked back to see Chanyeol pushing your wheelchair, Xiumin walking alongside him. Neither were listening to your pleas, and you just started sobbing. You knew that going into that house, you’d probably never get out again. Worst of all, you had no idea what had happened to Johnny. You had collapsed at the hideout, only to wake up in the hospital with Suho there. If he had gotten caught, you knew things would be far worse for him.

    Once inside the house you didn’t know what to expect, but being taken into a hidden elevator in Suho’s study did not make you feel any better. You had a pretty good idea where you were going. You knew there was an infirmary in the house, but there were definitely other secrets below the house you never knew of. You still had tears slipping down your face, but at this point there was no reason to make such a fuss.

“Where’s Suho… I want to see him…”

“I was just thinking about you too.”

    You stopped, seeing Suho before you. There were still tears on your face, but you didn’t care. You looked up at him, turning your hands to fists.

“Where’s Johnny?”

Suho’s smile flattered. “Do you remember him?”

“Where is he?”

“Answer me, and I’ll answer you.”

“Where is my friend?”

“Hm… shall we go see him?”

    Suho gestured for the others to follow, pushing you along behind him. You kept your head up, trying to be as strong as you could be. You came into another room, your eyes immediately drawn over to Johnny. You inhaled sharply upon seeing his beat up body, wanting more than anything to go to him, but you were kept at a distance.

“I brought a guest.”

“Y/n… y/n are you alright?” You nodded. “That’s good… everything’s going to be okay…”

“Johnny…”

“How about a deal?” Suho said. “You give up whoever was helping you, and I’ll let you live.”

“I’m not working with anyone!”

“I don’t believe you, but your life isn’t yours.”

“What?”

“You give me what I want, you live, I promise.”

“Your words don’t mean shit.”

“To you, but for y/n.” Suho looked over at you. “If he cooperates with me, I promise I’ll let him live.”

“I won’t remember him…”

“But you’ll know in your heart that I have kept my word, because I do mean it. His whole little plan was because he thought you were dead, but you aren’t. He’d hold no anger in that regard towards me, so I can forgive this confusion.”

“… you’re lying…”

“Not to you, not about this.”

“You’d use her… against me…” Johnny spat. “Just to have a reason to go after one of the families!”

“What will it be?”

    Johnny looked over at you, seeing the red in your eyes from the crying. He didn’t want you to witness something so horrible, even if you would forget. At the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth. You even subtly shook your head, given the predicted outcome, no one would win in the end, no matter what.

“Fuck you.”

“Very well then. You two can take y/n now.”

“No! Johnny! Johnny!”

“It’s okay… you’ll be okay…”

“Johnny!”

    You desperately pulled on your restraints, screaming for Johnny, for mercy, but your cries fell on deaf ears. You could hear your heart pounding in your chest, the tears flowing once more. You didn’t even notice the pinch in your neck until you began to grow tired, screaming once more, trying to stay awake, but it was pointless. A door before you was opened and everything flashed a bright white before cutting to black.

♥♥♥♥♥

Months Ago

“You’ve really thought this out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But your plan does rely on our cooperation.”

“I know, sir. You’re the rightful-”

    Jaebeom put a hand up to silence Johnny. He knew where this was going, and he had heard it enough times already.

“You know how things work in this city. We respect power. The late Mr. Kim may not have wanted his son to inherit the throne, but he made a move and I respect that.”

“You’ve seen how Suho runs things. It’s not-”

“It’s stable. I may not agree with him, but if I make a move against him, this city will fall into chaos. I will not be doing that. This is my city too, and I won’t cause trouble.”

“You being complacent is why things are the way they are. You have power, you could-”

“I won’t hear anymore of this, Johnny. And for your sake I won’t say anything about this meeting or your intentions.” Jaebeom sighed. “What you’re trying to do is suicide.”

“I know I’m putting my life on the line. He has to pay for what he’s done.”

“You may be looking at things the wrong way…”

“What?”

“Forget about revenge Johnny, you’ll only end up dead.”

    There was nothing more to be said, so Johnny was escorted out. Without the Im family he knew he didn’t stand much of a chance, but he did have a backup plan. He wasn’t going to give up so easily. He laid low while in the city, not needing attention until he was ready, making his way to the docks. He was still known amongst the families, so it wasn’t hard to see the head of the Lee family on such short notice.

“Johnny, how have you been?”

“Alright, sir. How has business been?”

“Flourishing. But enough small talk. What are you doing here? I thought you’d never set foot in this city again.”

“I have my reasons, and I need your help.”

“Let me guess. You wanna attack the Kim family.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, let’s hear it. What’s your big plan?”

    Johnny divulged his plan to Taeyong, explaining how things would work out. He knew it was dangerous to tell anyone this, he could be betrayed, but he knew the prospect of a coup was appealing to the other families, especially those who knew the late Mr. Kim, so he had to hope he was right. Taeyong was silent for a long while, clearly weighing his options.

“Let’s go for a drive.”

    Johnny didn’t question it, knowing very well he could be taken to Suho, or executed in secret. The drive was quiet, and he wasn’t going to ask Taeyong what he was thinking. He was on thin ice, so it was best he wait and see how things played out. The car stopped at some apartment building and he followed Taeyong inside. The place seemed to be under construction, which made him all the more sure he was going to be taken out.

“Jaebeom, where are the welcome drinks?”

    Taeyong entered one of the backrooms, being very loud about his presence and not fearing all the guns pointed his way. After confirming who was here, Jaebeom had his men lower their weapons.

“Taeyong, how did you find me?”

“All these materials came through my dock, it would be bad for business if I didn’t keep track of such things. Especially when they are secretly for one of the families.”

“What do you want?”

“Oh I won’t tell Suho if that’s what you’re worried about. That’s your business. No, I’m here to talk about something else.”

“I’ve already heard from Johnny, so you can go.”

“Oh, I wasn’t your first pick?”

“I-”

“Joking. I understand.” Taeyong smiled. “It makes things easier. You know what’s going down.”

“You intend to go along with him?”

“And if I do?”

“Keep me out of it. I won’t cause problems for the city.”

“These things can be done with less chaos, but I’m here for something else. I know you won’t participate, that’s fine. What I want is to know that you’ll do the right thing in the end.”

“Which is?”

“Once Suho is dealt with, you take the throne.”

Jaebeom scoffed. “You don’t want it?”

“It’s not that I can’t wear the crown, but I simply know you’d do better for this city. The late Mr. Kim knew that too, and I would like to honor his choice.”

“We respect power in this city, and-”

“You won’t make a move for what’s rightfully yours for the sake of not turning this city into a war zone. It can be seen as cowardice or wisdom beyond me. Either way, I am making a move to throw that piece of shit a cliff. So, will you accept the gift I present to you when the time comes.”

“Why should I go along with this?”

“Because you have nothing to lose.” Johnny said. “If we fail, we’ll get executed, and nothing regarding you knowing about this coup will ever come to light. If we succeed, you can make the city better than it already is.”

“Then I guess we’ll see whether you win or not.“

♥♥♥♥♥

“She’ll always hate you… you know that right?”

“I’ll only know her love.”

“You’re sick.”

“And you’re a dead man. It really does hurt me, we were such good friends once.”

“We weren’t, you were my boss.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, too late for that kinda talk. Kill him.”

    Minho pulled out his gun, cocking it and aiming it at Johnny’s head. By now he had been restrained, so all he could do was lean forward and press his head to the barrel of the gun. Even if this was his end, right here, right now, he knew you would be alright. His only regret was not being able to see you again.

“Sir, we have a problem.”

    Tao’s voice caught everyone’s attention. Suho stepped away with him for a moment before ordering everyone out, including Minho. Johnny had no idea what was going on, but now that he was alone he knew he couldn’t just sit there. He startled fiddling with his restraints, figuring he might have to dislocate his thumb to truly get out. Eventually he did manage to get himself free, cautiously pressing his ear against the door to listen for others. He had no weapons on him, but he could still fight despite his condition.

    When he felt the coast was clear he carefully opened the door, seeing that the hall was empty. Something was definitely going on for him to be left alive, but his priority was finding you. Even if he seemed to be alone he was still cautious as he checked the other rooms around him. For the most part they were empty until he found what he was looking for. You were lying in bed, restrained, Xiumin checking over some of the machinery when he noticed the intruder. He drew his weapon but Johnny quickly took cover. Given the makeshift infirmary this room was, there were some things he could use to defend himself.

    It was still a rather small room, and he knew Xiumin wouldn’t shoot recklessly for fear of hurting you. He was patient, and made his move when he saw an opening. There was a bit of a struggle, but he managed to disarm Xiumin, taking his weapon, and incapacitating him. After making sure he was restrained he checked on you, quickly shutting everything off and removing all the wires and needles attached to you. He gently caressed your face, trying to coax you awake. The closest he got was your eyes peeking open, a small whimper from you.

“John…”

“I’m here, you’re okay. Let’s get you out of here.”

    Johnny picked you up in his arms, carrying you out with him. You were still under the effects of the sedative, slipping in and out of consciousness. Johnny just wanted to get you out of here. If he could just leave with you, get out of this city, then the two of you could disappear. That should have been his goal the moment he realized you were alive. Instead he had been greedy, thinking he could have it all. Somehow he managed to find the elevator that led back up to the main house. Although the first thing he heard was gunfire and immediately got down.

“Y/n… y/n, can you hear me?”

“Hm…”

“Do you think you can walk?”

“… maybe…”

“Let’s try.”

    You carefully stood up, getting your feet under you and taking a few steps. Running would be ideal, but for now walking would do. If he really wanted to get out undetected, going slow and being quiet was better. You held his hand tightly, right behind him, while he took point and held up the gun, ready to fire at any given moment. As you two snuck around you could hear gunfire on occasion, and it was making you nervous. You held Johnny’s hand tightly, wanting this nightmare to end more than anything. Then there was a shot that was undoubtedly close and Johnny collapsed.

“Johnny!”

    You were on top of him immediately, the adrenaline snapping you wide awake, well aware of the blood from his chest. You tried to apply pressure, telling him to stay awake, when you were grabbed. Suho pinned you against the wall, and you became aware of his messy hair, along with the blood on his clothes.

“What are you doing up here!”

“Suho…”

    Another shot went off and you screamed. Suho let you go, doubling over from his own injuries. You saw Johnny holding up the gun, for the moment ignoring his own pain. He shot again and Suho stumbled back. He didn’t hesitate to shoot back, Johnny collapsing this time. Before you could get to him Suho grabbed you, and the two of you collapsed, Suho pinning you beneath him. He had trouble breathing, but he kept his eyes locked on yours. You could see his panic, his desperation.

“Y/n…”

“Suho…”

“I won’t leave you…”

“What-”

    You soon found his hands around your neck, putting pressure. Your eyes went wide and you grabbed his arms, trying to get him off. Even in his condition he was still stronger than you.

“Su… Suho…”

    You squirmed under him, desperate to get him off, but you could feel yourself running out of oxygen. Your vision was already starting to go black when you could suddenly breath. Somehow Suho was off of you, but you were more focused on recovering your breath, that is until multiple shots rang out. You covered your ears, but they were already ringing. You looked over to see Suho on the ground, red starting to pool around him. Standing above him was a vaguely familiar face. They looked over at you, telling you something but you just saw their lips moving. 

    Everything had been building up and you just collapsed. The darkness was pulling you under, and you definitely didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore. As you laid on the floor you could hear mumbles, feeling someone grab you and shake you, but you couldn’t make anything out. You closed your eyes, wanting to disappear for a while. Even if you were uncertain about the fate of those around you, there was something you were certain about. One way or another this was all over, you knew that, you could feel it, and it gave you a strange feeling of peace you just accepted.

#exo #suho #lay #xiumin #tao #chanyeol #chen #baekhyun #kai #d.o #sehun #kim junmyeon #zhang yixing #kim minseok #huang zitao #park chanyeol #kim jongdae #byun baekhyun #kim jongin #doh kyungsoo #oh sehun #exo au #exo scenarios #nct #johnny

[the-fiction-witch]

a History

MOVIE LAST LEGION COUPLE: ROMULUS  RATING: DARK + SAD

Like everyone else in the known world, I remember nothing of being a baby, but I had been told the stories a thousand times by everyone around me. It’s not usually a story you're told as the beginning of what was regarded as the end though. 

I have the smallest memory, that honestly, I believe I don’t remember, I believe my memory is just my imagination trying so hard to cling to that moment. 

Before I was even born, I was trouble. 

It was no secret that Rome and the royal line had been in trouble for many years before I had even been more than stardust, The royal line and house had been due to fall for a good while even if many had plastered over the cracks and added supports both seen and hidden not yet ready to admit the fall was already happening. 

In regards to me, it began with my Grandfather Servius Cesar, even if the connection was… loose at best. The Blue blood of royalty was likely now so watered down it wouldn’t be much different from any other man and woman on the streets but still, the name was kept. Servius took the throne when he was older than most of the other emperors given he had already had his children and lost his wife. His children Claudius and Petilia being the airs after him with of course Claudius taking precedence due to birth order, and of course… having a dick. It was agreed that Claudius was to marry a Princess from the south and Petilia a prince from the east to keep alliances and bonds with people who had already begun to turn their backs on the empire and the throne in Rome. But, I wouldn’t be here if all had gone to plan. 

Uncle Claudius found himself floating upside down in the palace fountain the morning of his wedding. The South took back their princess and their allegiance.

And Petilia, My sweet mother. Found herself next in line to rule, and two months pregnant with yours truly, Her royal guard Titus and her getting closer than they meant to. The east cut their ties to leaving Rome well… fucked. As quick as possible My mother and father were married in the temple, my father was made commander of the royal armies and preparations were made. And a few months later I made my grand royal entrance into the world, Loudly. Or so I was told. They handed me to my mother and she held me for exactly six minutes before she bleed out and passed on. I was handed off to nursemaids while my father was busy. And before I was even able to walk and talk my grandfather past leaving me to be the air to the throne of all the empire my father ran most things until they deemed I could take the throne.

I barely stepped foot outside the palace, and barely spoke to anyone in my family but before I was even ten I had a crown on my head, a throne to sit in and the power over an empire.

My rule barely lasted a year before Rome was under attack I had no idea how to react, how to respond, or how to command troops I had no idea! I was nine! My father was slaughtered Rome brought to its knees and I was taken prisoner to Capri, I was tortured, abused and my spirit broken beyond repair. 

When I was eventually set loose from Capri I tried to find sanctuary trying to find anywhere safe, I eventually found people who knew who I was and didn’t want to kill me Romans had escaped Rome, and I was shipped away to Britannia I took a new name and a little house in a small Celtic village and did my best to build a life here…

#tbs #tbs fanfiction #TBS Imagine #tbs smut #tbs sex #tbs smutty #tbs imagines #The last legion #the last leigon #thelastlegion #Romulus #romulus imagine #romulus augustus #romulus smut #tbs fanfic #thomas #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #thomassangster #thomas sangster imagine #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas brodie sangster s #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster i #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas sangster smut #thomas sangser imagine #thomas sangster x reader

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 11 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Title: Succession Chapter 11

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader

Rating: NC-17 for sex and language (cunniligus, fingering, P in V, unprotected sex *wrap it up, kids*, creampie)

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village. This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter 11

You and Heisenberg sat side by side against the headboard as he told you everything.  The bed sheet was pulled up to his waist while you pulled it higher, covering your nakedness.  He reached for a cigar and lighter on his nightstand, puffing and exhaling in between the story.  You kept your eyes focused forward: on your legs under the sheets, on your hands in your lap, anywhere but turning your head to look at him.

It took him almost an hour to relay everything to you.  His story started over 100 years ago when the woman you now knew as Mother Miranda lost her daughter Eva.  You listened as he told you how she discovered an unknown organism under the village known as the Megamycete.  Heisenberg stopped periodically, puffed his cigar, and asked if you wanted a break or if you had any questions.  All you could do is shake your head and bid him to keep talking.

Your heart broke hearing him talk about how Mother Miranda kidnapped him from his family and infected him with Cadou.  The name of the organism sounded familiar, then you remembered that it was the thing in the jar that Moreau had in his laboratory.  Heisenberg explained that the Cadou drastically changed an individual...either physically, mentally, metaphysically, and sometimes in every way imaginable.  He told you that the Cadou is what gave him the ability to move metal objects with his mind.  He also shared the fact that he was able to manipulate electric fields and communicate through electronics like radios, televisions, and the overhead PA system that was installed in the factory.  

He shared that the Cadou was why Moreau was trapped in the prison that is his mutated body.

Tears slid down your cheeks at the thought of Moreau being in constant pain and turmoil because this “mother,” as he lovingly called her the last time you were with him, turned him into a monster.  But your heart also ached at the thought of Karl being taken as a child, experimented on, and left alone with a family that was not his family.  You could only imagine how scared and alone he must have felt, how much he must have missed his family, and how his real family must have searched for him for years until they all eventually died off one by one.

Heisenberg came to the end of his story, stubbed his cigar out in the ashtray, and slowly turned his head to look at you.  A part of him was scared, scared that you wouldn’t believe him, or worse, that you would run as far away from him as possible.  It was a thought that tied his stomach into knots.  He had wanted you from the moment he set eyes on you and had just gotten you into his arms and into his bed...he didn’t want to lose you now.

You shifted next to him and he waited for you to rise from the bed, put your clothes back on, and demand to be taken somewhere where you could call for rescue.  He was surprised when instead you looped your arm under his and held his bicep, resting your head on his shoulder.  He sighed in relief, a slow smile spreading over his face as he lifted his hand and placed it on your outer leg, pulling your legs closer to him.

“So what do you think?” Heisenberg asked, pressing his lips into your hair.

“It’s unbelievable,” you murmured, “but then again, I’ve seen enough of this village to know that unbelievable things happen and reside here.  I should have known when I saw that thing that looked like a tree reach up and rip off the wing of the plane..”

Heisenberg furrowed his brow at your words.  A tree?  Then it dawned on him that you were referring to the mold.  He came to the conclusion that you must have looked out of the plane window and saw it strike.  He could only imagine how terrifying it was to be on a plane and experience it not only crashing, but also being the only survivor.

“The mold...the thing you saw is called the mold.  I saw it retreating back into the village after your plane crashed.  I knew if there were any survivors that Mother Miranda would find them and infect them in hopes that one would bring her daughter back into this life.  When I saw you...you looked so frightened, so fragile...and you were so beautiful.  You never know what the Cadou will do to a host, Moreau and the lycans being the disastrous part of the spectrum.  So I grabbed you, told Moreau I would kill him if he told anyone, and here you are.”

You lifted your head from his shoulder and looked up at him.  His penetrating gaze, the scars that peppered his face, his long hair that fell to his chin, and his beard...Heisenberg was incredibly handsome.  His physical body was not adversely affected by Mother Miranda’s experimentation.  And even though he didn’t tell you why he brought you here at first, you were grateful that he finally confided in you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, smiling at him, “I understand now why you brought me here and why you were so secretive.  I would never have believed you at first and automatically would have written you off as crazy.  And the bodies in the factory...you need an army to stop Miranda.  The bodies from the cemetery, the bodies from the plane crash...you need all the help you can get.  It’s...it’s tough to think of Bruce and the others being turned into mindless soldiers, but I understand why you need them…”

Heisenberg’s eyes searched yours.  His hand squeezed your leg reassuringly.  “I’m so sorry you had to see your friend like that.  I didn’t know you had gotten to know him on the plane.  To me, they were always just tools to aid me in my battle with Miranda...but they were once people.  They had families, friends...I promise you when this is over, I will put their bodies to rest.”

You nodded.  “I’ll help you...help you bury them, say a few words...convince their ghosts not to come back and haunt you for all eternity…”

He chuckled and leaned in, kissing your lips softly.  You lifted your hand and caressed his cheek, feeling the scruffiness of his beard.  A surprised groan formed in his throat as you pushed your tongue out to lick his lips.  Both of his hands lifted, cupped your face, and deepened the kiss.

The two of you sat there, kissing and making out like a pair of horny teenagers.  You released the sheet that covered your breasts and it pooled in your lap.  One of Heisenberg’s hands went around to your back, pulling you closer, as his other hand stayed pressed to your cheek.

He pulled away from the kiss, which made you whimper.  He laughed before growling playfully and moving to his knees.  Pulling the sheets off of your body, he grabbed your thighs and pulled your body forward, making you lie back on your pillow.  “Karl!” you squealed as he made quick work of spreading your legs and lying on his stomach between them.

“I’ve only briefly tasted you...now I want to devour you…” he growled.  Both of his arms wrapped under and around your legs as his lips kissed the soft skin of your inner thighs.  You sat up on your elbows, your mouth going dry and your heart beating wildly.  As you watched him kiss up and down one thigh before moving to the other, you felt your arousal accelerate.  You had been intimate before, but you had never had a man go down on you.  It had been a fantasy for a long time.  You fantasized about it over and over as you pleasured yourself.  And now, here is this mysterious, strong man between your legs, moving achingly slow towards your pussy.

“Karl…” you whispered, your thighs trembling on either side of his face.  His lips spread in a grin as he hovered over your pussy, blowing softly on your clit.  Your lips parted and you moaned loudly, arching your hips up to his mouth.  Heisenberg laughed and kissed along the flesh of your labia, his teeth gently nibbling on it.  Desire and arousal churned in your stomach and you could feel your wetness pooling out of you.

“Do you like that, doll face?” he asked, kissing around your clit, “does it feel good?”

All you could do was nod your head and move your hips.  He was mercilessly teasing you, tormenting you with his skilled mouth and never truly giving you what you wanted.

“Mmmm...you smell so good…” Heisenberg murmured, pressing the tip of his nose to your clit and nuzzling it softly.

“Karl, for fuck’s sake...please...please…” you begged, grabbing the sheets in your fists.  His gaze fixed on yours and he smiled, slowly extended his tongue, and circled around your clit.

You tossed your head back and cried out, your lower back arching off the bed.  You panted and moaned his name as his tongue curled and flicked over the swollen nub.  The pleasure that coursed through your body was unlike anything you had ever felt before.  The feel of his hands spreading your thighs wider and his fingers sinking into your skin almost drove you insane.

“Karl...Karl...oh fuck...yes...yes...don’t stop…” you whimpered.  Heisenberg chuckled softly, closing his lips around your clit and sucking.  One hand released the sheets and shot up to the headboard, grabbing onto one of the railings for dear life.  Your body undulated and gyrated on his bed as his mouth gave you pleasure beyond anything you had ever felt before.

Heisenberg became drunk with power as he looked up at you.  The way you moved and the sounds that slid past your lips made him unbelievably hard.  He found himself grinding his solid cock into the bed, desperate for friction.  Your reaction to his mouth was better than any pornographic image he had seen in his long life.  His eyes darkened as ideas flowed through his mind.  He made mental notes of all of the things he wanted to do to you right here in his bed...and all of the ways he would make you scream his name and shout your ecstasy.

He moved his right hand from your thigh to your dripping pussy.  He pulled away his mouth momentarily in order to softly caress your opening with the pads of his fingers.  You continued to moan and pant.

“I’m going to make you cum on my tongue over and over again…” Heisenberg promised, “and I’m going to shove my fingers inside of you...fingering you and tasting every part of your delicious cunt…”

Both of your hands were on the headboard railings, your body twisting amongst the sheets.  Your hips bucked uncontrollably against his face as he pushed his index and middle fingers inside of you.  His mouth went back to your clit, flicking it thoroughly as he rubbed your G-spot back and forth.

“Karl...you’re gonna make me cum...I wanna cum on your fingers...on your face...let me cum on your fucking face!!” you shouted, all manners and discretion completely thrown out of the window.  Heisenberg growled and gave you what you wanted.  His fingers pushed in and out of your wet opening noisily, the squelching sounds of your wetness audible to the both of you.  His tongue flicked your clit hard and fast and within seconds your lower back was arched completely off the bed and your orgasm shook your entire body.  You screamed his name over and over until his mouth slowly brought you back down to reality.

Aftershocks shook you as Heisenberg crawled up your body, chuckling against the skin of your stomach.  You released the railings and brought your hands to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair.

His lips met yours and you kissed him hard.  You felt his skin pressed against yours as his arms wrapped around your body and held you tight.  The sensation of your retreating orgasm followed by his strong arms made your heart surge in your chest.  You felt wanted, desired, and protected.  He had given you more pleasure than you had ever been given by any other guy or even yourself for that matter.  The connection you were feeling with him was growing...you hoped that Heisenberg felt it as well.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he rolled his hips against your wet cunt.  His hard cock rubbed back and forth between your pussy lips, making your desire accelerate all over again.

Heisenberg’s tongue explored your mouth, sliding and nudging yours into submission.  His hands slid up your back and to your shoulders, hugging you close.  Arousal and the growing need of his body increased.  His lips kissed down your neck and to your chest, licking the thin sheen of sweat that settled on your flesh.

“Karl…” you whispered, moving one hand down along his shoulder blades as your other hand stayed tangled in his hair.  

“I love hearing your beautiful voice say my name…” he moaned, kissing down between your breasts.  You arched your hips and spread your thighs wider, aching to feel him inside of you.  Heisenberg pushed himself up on one hand while his other reached down to grab his cock.  He rubbed the tip up and down along your pussy, teasing you mercilessly.

“Karl...please fuck me again...fuck me…” you said, arching your hips higher.  You were desperate to feel him, to feel his cock stretch you out and to feel his hips hammering down against yours.

He pushed inside of you and the both of you moaned loudly.  His left hand moved up to the headboard, holding it tight as the other hand wrapped around your leg, hiking it higher up on his hip.

The feel of his hips hammering you into the bed was enough to drive you mad.  His cock pushed deeper, faster, and harder.  It was like he could no longer help himself...now that you were under him, he was possessed.

Your hands reached around to his lower back, moving up and down in time with his thrusts.  Your pussy walls clenched around his cock every time he pushed inside of you and his grunts became louder because of it.  You gripped him like a vice and he had to hold himself off from cumming too soon.  He wanted you to cum again, but this...he wanted to feel it, experience it, memorize every fucking part of your cunt.

“Y/N...oh god pussycat, you’re killing me...your fucking cunt...it’s so damn tight and wet...god dammit!!” he yelled, tossing his head back.  Looking up at him losing control and fucking you harder and desperately...you wanted to give him as much pleasure as he was giving you.

His hand released your leg and went to the back of your head, making you look down at his cock thrusting in and out of you.  His other hand pressed to the bed, gripping the sheets.  “Look at how your cunt is taking my cock...taking my cock like a good little girl…”

Your orgasm was close as you watched his hips crashing down on yours, his cock moving quickly in and out of you.  You gripped his hips and screamed his name again and again.  Heisenberg moved forcefully, the bed banging against the wall.

“Fuck, Y/N!  Fuck!!!  Oh fuck, your amazing pussy is gonna kill me!” Heisenberg shouted.  You looked up into his face, his features twisted into pleasure so primal and hedonistic.  His hair fell in his face, his mouth dropped open, and his eyes were fused to yours.

“Cum inside of me, Karl,” you begged, squeezing his cock tightly inside of you.

“OH FUCK ME!!!” he shouted, tossing his head back.  You felt him cum, his cock twitching inside of you and in seconds you came as well, your body bucking wildly, holding tight to his hips.  Heisenberg continued to curse and grunt as he pumped every drop of cum inside of you.  You trembled under him, moving your hands up his sides, down his chest and stomach, and up his back.  He released a shaky breath as he slowly lowered himself onto his elbows, burying his face into your neck.

His body rocked on top of you, still thrusting slowly.  You kissed along his shoulder and nuzzled his skin with your nose.  The feel of his hot breath on your neck and his sweat-slicked skin against yours was incredible.  You never wanted him to let you go.

Heisenberg rolled to his side, pulling you with him, his cock still inside of you.  You lifted your leg and rested it atop his hip.  His fingers slid up and down your spine, making you shudder.

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” Heisenberg whispered, his lips pressed to your forehead, “so, so amazing…”

You closed your eyes, a smile spreading across your face, as you fell asleep in his arms.

#resident evil village #resident evil village fanfic #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg fanfic #daddy heisenberg #house heisenberg #succession fanfic #succession heisenberg fanfic

[jetaime-jespere]

Prompt #125

Back on these, after a slight hiatus. Set during 6x18, if Lauren had a different ending. Slight Emily x Ian, more in memory only.

#125: Make A Wish

“Make a wish, Lauren.”

The voice behind her is as cold as the gun placed at her temple with a sure hand, his other clamped firmly on her shoulder. That voice is completely devoid of the lust it used to hold when he would speak to her, when it was the two of them, him and her, in a world of their own. A world that was dangerous yet exhilarating, yet a place she somehow never questioned if she belonged. Not that she had a choice. It started as an obligation, part of the raw deal that came with infiltrating an international terrorist organization. There was no limit in her quest to prove her loyalty, she quickly learned through the nights she spent in his bed, the mornings that followed. He worshipped her body with his own, took her past her own limits only to lull her to sleep in his embrace. She earned his trust but he also gained hers, and only after he uttered the words I love you did Emily realize just how entrenched she was, the only way out meant sure death for one of them. Ensuring her own survival meant further entangling herself in lies and believing them with all her heart. If you play, you play for keeps. The only thing she didn’t expect was for the lies to become the truth, because after a while, each time she repeated his sentiment, she meant it just a little more until she wasn't sure she knew the difference anymore.

Except this isn’t Tuscany or Galway, Rome or Dublin. Gone are the beautiful views from the balconies of his villa, where she could at least pretend like this wouldn’t all end horribly one day. The green pastures of Ireland don’t exist here, the springtime sun is gone. Instead, her ankles and wrists are bound to a chair in the middle of a cold warehouse in the middle of Boston, and she has mere minutes left to breathe, because she’s about to die at his hand.

“Lauren, are you ready to pay for what you’ve done? I told you I was going to take your life.” Emily closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths. It’s been years and yet hearing his voice again, even after all this time, is like a window into the past.

Her security was built on a web of fallacy, it had been all along. Hushed promises behind closed doors in sound-proofed rooms in the middle of European cities that it was over, that she was safe, were mere falsehoods. She left Lauren Reynolds and the world of Interpol behind years ago, a conscious choice that was never regretted, only remembered from time to time in the quiet silence accompanied by the unrelenting pull of too much alcohol. She never lingered on it for too long, wouldn’t let herself go down that path, until she had no other choice, when she saw the messages from Sean that pulled her right back in.

Ian Doyle had escaped from prison. The moment Sean uttered those words Emily knew he would find her eventually; it was only a matter of when. She just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. There was hardly any time to get things in order, to arrange for them to be taken care of, to ensure her team would be safe in the days, weeks, months, even years after she was gone. Whether that meant disappearance or death was anyone’s guess, but not a choice she’d have to worry about because it wouldn’t matter. Emily lured him out of hiding in DC, followed him to Boston a few days later as he rampaged his way through her friends systematically one by one. It essentially stole any chance of saying goodbye, and she’d turned away from them one last time, through the doors of the BAU, only giving in to the sob she’d been holding in her throat once she was safely in the car.

“Are you afraid?” Ian asks, his hand moving from her shoulder to the side of her face. His palm is rough, hardened from his years in prison, yet there’s something fleetingly reverent about it. Emily always marveled at the contrast of his hands, responsible for the pain and suffering of so many, could be so gentle and adoring with her. But that was long ago; the tables have long been turned.

“No,” she lies, and he just laughs, brushes his thumb over her jaw almost adoringly.

She straightens her back, her arms trembling and her heart pounds through her chest. The gun cocks in her ear; she feels it brush her temple again.

“Make a wish, Emily. It’s time. You have ten seconds.” When she hesitates, her body tensing at his words, he chuckles. “Close your eyes. Sometimes it helps.”

She obeys, and, it’s Aaron’s face she sees, brief moments in time as her life flashes before her eyes.

“Ten.”

It takes almost a month to speak of the first kiss (it happened after a few too many beers one night with the team) and two more weeks before there is another. The second time around they’re stone cold sober (it’s better that way), and when he asks if she’d like to go out with him sometime, she blushes with a resounding “yes.”

“Nine.”

Their first date is one she’s always held close to her heart. He’d made reservations, planned dessert, and on a whim, she bought a new dress just for that occasion even though there were more hanging in her closet than she could count. This one was dark green, with an open back, and she knew right away it was the one. Except they never made it to the restaurant, because a case in Memphis called them away the morning before. She only smiled when there was a knock at the hotel room door late on the evening that should have been spent with their heads bent together over a table in the back of a picturesque Italian restaurant. But instead he held a bag of takeout, wearing a grin while uttering the words “Plan B?”

“Eight.”

He’s still inside of her for the very first time, unable to focus his mind on much of anything because Emily is still panting his name in his ear, when he decides he doesn’t want to be with anyone else, ever again.

“Seven.”

In Colorado, mere hours after the compound went up in flames, Aaron can hardly be objective as she ambles toward the hospital exit with discharge papers in one hand, the other cautiously guarding her broken ribs. Her face is bruised, her clothes dirty, and while Reid is just a few feet away dozing fitfully in chairs, Aaron goes right to her, thumbing her cheek in a rare display of public affection. “I’m alright. It’s not as bad as it looks,” she tells him bravely, even though she’s already sore, muscles aching, exhaustion starting to cloud her every thought. “I just want to go home.” In those moments, Aaron realizes he is the closest thing to home she has right now, and he doesn’t leave her side for the rest of the night.

“Six.

As she stares at JJ’s newborn son cradled in her arms, Emily wonders, with a fleeting glance at Aaron, if she’ll ever have the chance to do the same thing. Now, she never will.

“Five.”

On many mornings, Aaron wakes her up with coffee on the nightstand and gentle hands pulling the covers from her legs, pushing the hem of his shirt past her hips as he settles her legs over his shoulders. Her eyes aren’t even open before she’s already rocking her hips up towards him, an uncoordinated hand grappling for something to hold onto. The way he moves, slow and determined, is a contrast to the speed at which they’re used to, frantically moving from one case to the next. He’s taught her to be patient; he’ll get her there eventually, but she’s not in the mood to wait this morning. “Aaron,” she breathes his name, but he shakes his head in tandem with the flicks of his tongue. “Soon,” he assures, a promise he’s never broken. And true to that promise, he sends her spiraling into bliss a few moments later.

“Four.”

“I want to tell Jack,” Aaron says one evening when they’re sitting in traffic in the middle of Dallas, on the tail end of a case as she gazes out the window. “About us.”

“Three.”

“Can Emily stay for dessert too?” Jack asks innocently, his face covered in spaghetti sauce as the plates are cleared from the table. It’s about time they told him why his father’s pretty friend from work was spending more time than usual at the apartment, why a sweatshirt was left on the couch the week before, why there’s an extra toothbrush in the bathroom and a few extra bottles in the shower. It’s been something they’ve held off on, Haley’s death still fresh and the timing not quite right. But the look on Jack’s face tells him everything they need to know, and Emily’s heart swells when Aaron smiles and murmurs, “sure, buddy.”

“Two.”

The two and a half years they spend together, in some semblance of the word, one way or another, are some of the happiest she’s ever known, the most peace she’s ever felt.

“One.”

I hope you can forgive me, for never telling you the truth, she thinks as she pictures the hurt and pain that will darken on his face when he finds her body. Emily knows they’re coming, but they’ll be too late. Tell Jack I’m sorry too.

Her eyes flutter closed again on their own accord as her lip trembles in unbridled fear. It’s so silent in the warehouse she hears the gentle scrape of Ian’s boots on the ground as he steps back, taking a steadying breath of his own, his finger curled around the trigger.

This is it. Make a wish.

The gun fires; she’s acutely aware of the throbbing echo in her ears as the sound reverberates, which confuses her, because it’s not supposed to be this way. It’s a dissonance of sounds - things she shouldn’t be cognizant of because the bullet that pierced the air is supposed to be in her head. But another voice - she recognizes this one instantly too - bellows something she can’t quite decipher, calm and steady, accompanied by the thunderous footsteps of a team of agents that sweep into the room. Glancing down at the concrete ground Emily sees Ian’s body, his gun a few feet away. A pool of blood seeps around him, her stomach lurches at the sight of his head split open, and she has to look away toward the small window, where the dawn of another sunrise has started to bleed through the sky.

They made it.

“Emily!” It’s the same voice as the one from moments before, and when she realizes what just happened, Aaron is already kneeling in front of her, frantically working at the plastic zip ties that have cut welts into her wrists and ankles. He’s shouting at someone that isn’t her, something about hurry up, and soon she’s freed, but her limbs don’t want to work correctly or coordinate at all. They don’t have to, because strong arms are pulling her into his chest, her chin hits his vest, and the scent of him nearly splits her heart in half as he lowers her to the ground.

And for the second time since this hell began, she starts to cry, her fingers clenched around the fabric of his shirt. Through the deep sobs she attempts to speak, apologies that aren’t even close to coherent, the adrenaline that’s coursed through her already starting to give way to exhaustion. But words won’t work either, and he shushes her with a finger to her lips, matted hair pushed out of her face as Aaron thumbs away the tears that collect in her eyes.

“It’s over,” he soothes, repeating the words over and over, until they both believe it. He’s unaware of the extent of her injuries, won’t risk adding to them as he signals for a medic. She breathes through the tears, her chest heaving, the only thing she’s remotely aware of is the beat of his heart, unsteady against her own.

It’s over, she reminds herself as she takes one last look at Ian’s dead body a few feet away, a reassurance to herself that this is in fact real, that he can’t haunt her again. And as she lays on the ground, enveloped in the protective embrace of Aaron’s arms, Ian’s words linger in her mind.

Make a wish.

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fic #prompts #Ian Doyle is here too #I've been sitting on this one for awhile and finally worked up the motivation to do it

[hedgiwithapen]

How about the Leverage Crew arriving in Central City in time for the that time Barry got accused of murdering DeVoe. Basically, Leverage Crew (Classic or Redeption is your choice) meddling in that plan. Because screw DeVoe. Can be in the same universe as The Central City job, or a brand new AU; your choice.

this one Long The courthouse was packed when a sleek black van pulled up to a loading zone. Nathan Ford turned from the passenger seat. “You all know the play?” “Mm, yup,” Parker said, clipping a badge to her blazer pocket. “The Boston skip.” “It’s not the Boston Skip,” Hardison snapped, fussing with his tie.. “You’re just grumpy because you have to play the lawyer again.” Eliot smirked. “Hey, you said only if it comes to a cross examine, I did my job, if you all do your jobs right and it doesn’t come to that,” Hardison’s voice pitched upwards. “If?” Sophie put on the emergency break. “If? Hardison, I’m hurt.” “Soph,” Nate sighed. “Let it go.” “For now. We’re having words later,” Sophie insisted. “Can we just get this over with?” Eliot asked, maneuvering to take the driver’s seat. “ you know I don’t like us splitting up like this.” “It’ll only be for a bit,” Parker said, squeezing his hand. “ We’ll be fine.” They left the van in twos, first Parker and hardison, briefcase and extraneous computer in hand, and a minute or two later Sophie and Nate followed-- and Nate with a plain folder tucked under his arm. Eliot drove in the direction of the police station, ready for the next phase of the plan. They hadn’t exactly called ahead, but that wasn’t going to be much of a problem. Cisco Ramon was the first to spot them. He goggled a bit. “What are you doing here?” he asked as Hardison approached the bench where Team Flash had congregated. Hardison smiled, knowing the prosecutor was watching. “I came to offer my services,” he said, sending a quick text with a thought. “ Where is Ms Horton?” “Here,” the short woman said, her eyes cutting between the two as Cisco checked his phone. “ Who are you? Cisco, who is--” Cisco looked up from the message--you didn’t see us coming?-- and relaxed slightly for the first time in weeks. “I’m part of Mr. Allen’s legal team,” Hardison smiled wide. “He’s ok, Cecile,” Cisco vouched. “ He and his, uh, coworkers have helped us in the past. With Z--wait, that was before you. Um.” “My firm helped get Henry Allen some money, after that unfortunate mess. And we’re here to see justice through again.” He hesitated. “ Or pick up where it leaves off,” he said under his breath. Cecile took in a sharp breath. “When did we hire you?” “Uh--” “Cecile, it’s really ok,” Caitlin joined the cluster. “They know about STAR. And apparently about the recent… developments.” “You think we don’t keep tabs on your crazy city? Now, Ms. Horton, as your co-lawyer, we need to discuss strategy. I’ve got some character witnesses I’d like to introduce, some crucial evidence that needs to be submitted, is there an office we might use?” He steered her away, nodding to Parker, deep in conversation with the prosecutor.

“You let that jerk stick around?” Iris jumped when she heard the voice in her ear. Turning she sighed with recognition. “ Lilli--Sophie?” “In the flesh.” She smiled. “I can’t stay long, but Eliot wanted me to ask.” Iris sighed. “If it’s Eliot asking, I guess you mean Harry. He’s been a lot better since Eliot kicked his ass, that’s for sure. And he has been helpful.” “I’m sure,” Sophie sounded anything but sure. “Listen, we’ve got this pretty well handled, but you and your friends may wish to be ready in case of reprisals. Have you upgraded security lately?” “Cisco’s worked on it,” Iris confirmed. “Good. Hardison would love to take a look, later. We’re probably going to be in the area, we’ve had word something’s fishy at that prison of yours.” When Iris opened her mouth Sophie shook her head. “Iron Heights. Point is, we’ll be around should you need anything.” “Thank you for the offer,” Iris said. She shook her head. “ These people are smart, Sophie. Dangerous.” “Not compared to my team,” Sophie smiled. “Save your worry. Look, see? Hardison’s in place, and Parker’s in the wings. I’ve got to go take care of my part. If you see your husband, let him know, will you?” “I-- sure,” Iris said, and she watched as Sophie stood and walked into a crowd. An entirely different person made her way past a bailiff and into the Juror’s box, leaning over to the man beside her and nodding in the direction of the door Barry Allen had just been escorted through. As Iris stood to take his hand across the gap between his seat and the benches, Sophie gave a little nod to the two of them. “It is strange,” the man said. “But I don’t think we’re meant to discuss the case until we’re in the back.” “Of course not,” Sophie said. “I was just thinking about it, is all. If it were a scene in a mystery novel, I’d call it too obvious.” “You do have a point,” the man agreed. “I’m actually a novelist myself.” “You don’t say,” Sophie smiled. “Classic red herring, am I right? And what a story. Two men in the same family accused of nearly identical murders…” She tapped her com, giving a quick signal. Nate was up. “Ah, a quick word?” Nate stepped away from the wall, flagging down Mrs. DeVoe and her companion. “No,” she snapped, putting on what Nate could see was a reasonably convincing mask of Grieving Widow. Convincing to a mark, maybe. But the Mako was right--you can’t con a conman. “Vultures, all of you.” “Oh, I’m not a reporter.” Nate said easily. He nodded to the tall man at Marlize’s Elbow. “Mr. DeVoe, I’m sure you’ll want to hear what I have to say.” He was pleased to see shock cross the face of Dominic Lanse. The man grabbed him by the arm, yanking him into an empty room. Mrs. DeVoe followed, locking it behind her. “Just so you are aware, there is video footage of you dragging me in here,” Nate said in his most helpful voice. “In case you decide to kill me here, probably not your smartest move.” he glanced around. “Private, though. Good.” He gave his signature infuriating grin. “Make this quick,” Clifford said in Dominic’s voice. “Court begins soon.” “Right, well, that’s going to be your problem.” Nate shrugged. “ Let’s skip the pleasantries. I know everything, about your plan at least. Your computer banks! Normal people couldn’t even find them, so you’ve got that going for you, though the security is lacking once you get past that, so B+. I am not Normal People. I have the best hacker in the multiverse, though, so,” he clicked his tongue in mock dismay, “like I said, my team and I --I’m sure you’re trying to think of who we are right now--know everything.” Marlize glanced at her silent watch, frowning. “Oh, no, no, I’m not a meta.” Nate shook his head. “But the thing is, I don’t have to be to destroy you.” “What--” “Again. I know everything, Thinker. Your basement prison, your hidden files, what you want with that satellite… you really shouldn’t have written everything down… twice even.” He fished a small book out of his pocket, and let them see the plain cover. Clifford’s eyes darkened. “That’s mine.” “Yeah, well, I also have the

multiverse’s greatest thief.” “Our home is under police protection and surveillance. There are officers--” “There right now, I’m aware.” Eliot Spencer, clutching a cup of coffee in one hand, flashed a badge at the pair of officers standing by a door. “Any trouble?” “Nope. She just left for the courthouse. Some work, huh? Just standing here.” “Hmm.“ Eliot agreed. “Though I guess if something did happen, the Flash would swoop in.” “Nine times out of ten,” the first officer agreed. “Or one of his buddies. “ “Maybe 8 times,” the second officer shrugged. “ You new?” “Just transferred from Keystone.” Eliot said. “Not so much nonsense there.” “I hear that. Good to have the backup though.” Eliot nodded. “ You do a walk through?” “Uh, no…. Like I said, no trouble, officer-- “Ted Crichton,” Eliot interrupted. “You haven’t walked through? What if someone’s in there, waiting to assault Mrs. DeVoe when she gets back?” “Well, uh, we don’t have a warrant--” “For crying out loud--” Eliot pulled a paper from his pocket. “See? Now let's go. You stay out here. Who has the back-- does no one have the back door? “ The officers hurried inside. “Don’t forget to check the closets,” Eliot called. -- “ Like I said. Best thief. Best hacker. Now, honestly--and you can run the numbers-- your best bet would be to cut your losses right here, right now. You’re already lying on the stand, so say you were coerced into implicating Mr. Allen--if you need someone to blame I do have a list of patsys that really need the jail time. You do that, put your little plan,” he waggled the book “ back in the box or write it up as the next dystopian best seller for High School English classes to dissect for decades to come, and you can walk away from this.” A laugh. “No one will believe anything you say. That book can’t be traced to me, and even if it could be, it doesn’t prove anything. So someone thinks I’m a supervillain. I’m dead. You have nothing that proves Mr. Allen innocent. You’re out of your mind, Mr. Ford.” “Oh good, you know who I am. Think a little harder.” “As threats go, it’s half baked,” Marlize challenged. “What are you going to do if we refuse? Break Allen out of jail so he can be a fugitive? He’d never go along with it. And the Flash can’t stop us.” “I’d run those numbers again, you’ve left out quite a few variables. But no.” “No?” “If you refuse, if you keep up your little game, lie on the stand, sell that sob story, maybe you're right and the Flash can’t stop you. But he doesn’t need to. I’ll destroy you.” “You.” It was not a question. “For someone claiming to be the smartest man in the world, I’m a bit worried about your memory. I said it already--I’m not here alone. But be my guest. Tell your lies. Right about now the Jury is thinking about what an embarrassment to the city Henry Allen’s trial was and how closely this resembles it… the similarities, the way the timelines don’t quite match up… “ “Really? You’re trying to convince the jury to ignore evidence and go with their hearts? A pathos appeal? That’s not going to work. There’s less than a 3% chance of that even ending in a mistrial, much less acquittal.” “I’m sure that’s what your numbers said,” Nate smiled yet again, this time sharklike. “Cute. I bet you think it’s difficult to get assigned jury duty. “ “It-- we checked all the names. We know--” “You know who they are, yes, yes. But you don’t know who we are. Another sloppy mistake. Now, the jury’s, you're right, not a total slam dunk. So, right now the prosecutor is getting word of some new evidence from a very well respected FBI agent about how helpful the Flash and Mr Allen have both been in assisting with a case against a known human trafficker--you know her, Ammunet Black. The one you bought your puppet from. FBI picked her up…mmm, ten minutes ago? And she had some very interesting things to say. You can guess what they were. Add to that the evidence--” “What evidence?” “The wire transfers between you and Ms. Black. In December and a few days ago. We didn’t even have to fake that first one, but even if the second

one looks a little fishy, the fact that--” “Nate, we got him,” crackled Eliot’s voice in his ear. “--the police just found a metahuman locked in your hall closet--Weeper, I think is what Ms. Black called him-- should make things clear. He wasn’t thrilled about having to stick around much longer but your basement is pretty hard for normal people to find so we had to nudge that a bit. But hey, you’re all for planting evidence. Anyways, court’s in ten minutes…. but the police will be arresting you in about three, if my math’s right-- care to check?-- so I can make this very quick. We have video of you threatening the Flash, holding him prisoner the same night as that wire transfer, proof of Dominic’s powers and sale--my hacker thanks you for all those cameras and bugs, by the way, made his job much easier-- and you add that all up and it sure looks like you got upset at the Flash and Allen for poking into your meta trafficking and decided a frame up was in order.” Nate hefted the folder, “and then there’s this.” “And what,” Marlize asked, shaking with rage, “ is that?” “A copy of files that will be delivered to the FBI, NSA and Dean of Husdson University if you don’t admit to the frame up.” Nate said, thumbing through them. “Proof that you, Mrs. DeVoe, fed information to certain entities across Africa and the Middle East where you were doing your research and aid work to assist in their terror attacks and human trafficking--ties in quite nicely to your work with Ammunet, if I do say so myself. And proof that the “late” Mr. DeVoe plagiarized his thesis, his dissertation, even the syllabi for his classes.” “Lies. No one will believe any of--” “Oh, it’s all very well forged. Except for the bit about the Syllabi. For shame.” Nate tutted. “And part of the dissertation. Can they take away a PH.d posthumously? Anyways, even if it wasn’t, do you really think that no one would believe a man who thinks that giving everyone on the planet late stage Alzheimer’s is going to solve famine and illness? What kind of legitimate history teacher doesn’t know about cholera or the effects of the agricultural revolution? Every lie has a kernel of truth to it.” Nate glanced at the clock on the wall. “Well, that certainly was enlightening. And before you decide to simply kill me, run your little calculations with one more variable: Eliot Spencer.” DeVoe’s brow furrowed and what little color he had drained from his face. “ That’s what I thought. Three.. Two.. one.” Nate raised his voice. “ Help! I’m in here!” The door crashed from its hinges. “The Gloat is the best part,” Parker, FBI badge swinging, put an arm over Barry’s shoulders. He stood with Iris next to her and Eliot as the DeVoes were hauled away. “You know, I think I might have to agree,” Iris said, squeezing Barry’s hand. “Or second best, at least,” she added meaningfully. “So… what now?” Joe asked. “I mean, there’s still… the red tape, but… do we need to be worried? Don’t they still have--” “Oh, that sick chair and computer set up?” Hardison asked with a smirk. “I want it.” Harry announced. “When did you get here?” Hardison asked, affronted. -- Parker held up her badge as she pushed the crate up a ramp into Lucille. “Special Agent Hagen! Let me help you with that,” Agent McSweeten said, taking the dolley handle from her. Parker beamed, patting the side, careful not to dislodge the panel on the side. “Thanks!” -- “Anyways, you can’t just call dibs. You’re too late,” Hardison added, giving Parker a fistbump. “We stole it.”

#dammit hedgi day 2021 #leverage #the central city job #the flash

[talesofstyles]

Quid Pro Quo

Another lawyer!Harry. Technically six years before this piece. Enemies to lovers with plenty of angst :))) [7k]

massive thank you to @smokeinherperfume @for-fucks-sake-h and @emotionally-imbruised​ 🥺💛

This has got to be one of the worst weeks of your professional life.

It’s only Thursday and this past week you haven’t left your office before eleven every night. You’re currently working on nine cases, two of which require immediate action, and you’ll most likely have to go to trial for at least three of the cases because the motions to dismiss that you filed were denied. Last night alone you didn’t get a wink of sleep because you were busy preparing for a deposition this morning, which turned out to be practically useless, because your client completely ignored your advice and said everything you told them not to and basically shit the bed for you.

You know this is what you signed up for when you decided to become a lawyer at a top law firm in the City. Clifford Chance is not a joke, there’s a reason why they’re number second in the UK and you knew that long before you even started working here. There’s a common knowledge which most law students throughout the UK knows, that if you work at Clifford Chance, you don’t get to sit around. Put it this way: if you let six minutes tick away without achieving anything, you’ve wasted the firm fifty pounds. Twelve minutes: one hundred pounds. Eighteen minutes: one fifty. You do the math.

It’s not that you hate your job. On the contrary, you absolutely love your job. You know you’re good at it. You love the thrill of negotiation. You like to argue and make the best point in the room. You’re addicted to the adrenaline rush of closing a deal, and frankly, nothing satisfy you more than spotting the loopholes in a contract (with the exception of sex of course but it has really been a while and you’re practically a nun these days so it’s not even worth mentioning).

 But sometimes it’s just too much. You’ve been working for fifty five hours per week, and sure, the money’s good (scratch that—the money’s great), but you don’t have a life outside of work and you’re beginning to realise that it’s one hell of a price to pay. 

The truth is, you know all this nonsense is not because you hate your job, nor because you’re stretched too thin. Interestingly, you actually thrive under pressure and you know that’s one of your qualities that makes you a good lawyer. And life outside of work? Even the thought of it makes you laugh. Your work is your life. You’ve never complained about that. This bitterness inside of you that you don’t even realise exists emerged when Harry Styles waltzed into your firm three months ago. You don’t normally make a big deal about people coming into the firm, because you’re good with people and you’re friends with everyone. But the thing is, you resent him because your firm gave him a senior partner title right away, one that you’ve been busting your arse for by working about two hundred hours per month minimum for the past year, just because he came from your firm’s rival which happens to be the number one law firm in the UK. And on top of that, he didn’t come empty handed. He brought five big clients with him when he came knocking on your firm’s door, and that sort of sealed the deal for your managing partner to choose him instead of you to be promoted to senior partner this year.

Bloody bum licker.

Your frustrated groan bounces off the thin walls of your two bedroom flat that you shared with your best friend and you accidentally slam the door a little too harsh. Luckily, she’s used to you coming home in such a state for the past three months, so she just turns her head to see you from where she’s sat on the couch in the living room, stifling a laugh.

“Harry Styles?” She ventures, smirking at you and you groan in annoyance as you throw your keys in the bowl.

“Harry,” you grunt. “Fucking Styles.”

Fran can’t help but laugh, and you give her a look that tells her you’d probably kill her if she keeps that up as you walk past her and straight into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge, so she’s back trying to stifle her laughter.

“Alright,” she replies, you can hear amusement in her tone. “What did he do this time?”

“He took my case!” you snap as you plop down on the couch with a bottle of Riesling in your hand. Fran puts her laptop on the coffee table and turns to face you, sitting expectantly, waiting for the oncoming rant. “He’s just- ugh. I can’t stand him, Fran. He’s unbelievable.”

“What?” She stares at you in confusion. “How?”

“So Luke came to the office this morning-”

“Luke-”

“Don’t-” you cut her off before she can finish her sentence. “I know what you’re about to say, and yes, that Luke. So, he came to the office this morning because he’s got a problem. Basically, his company just cut a huge deal but he needs to get out of this contract because his general counsel accidentally let them slip something into the fine print.”

“Shit,” she remarks. “That is a fireable offense.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “The guy was fired on the spot. The thing is, if Luke fulfills this order, he goes out of business.”

“And if he doesn’t,” she pauses, looking at you for a second before adding another remark. “Shit, they’ll sue him for breach of contract.” 

“Exactly,” you sigh. “I’ve been at it all day trying to spot loopholes in the contract to save his company.”

You really miss working together with Fran. You’ve been living together since you were both still in law school, and Fran used to work in Clifford Chance as well until ten months ago when she decided she wanted to focus on fashion law and moved to Addleshaw Goddard.

It’s not that you’re not happy for her. You’re glad she found something that she’s passionate about. It’s just you’re so used to working on cases and going to mock trials together and you can’t deny that you miss it sometimes. You just wish that she’d stayed, because you know it would be much easier to handle Harry if you’ve got your best friend with you.

“Right,” she nods. “And I’m guessing Harry came to you and he wanted in?”

“That bastard!” You scowl. “He just waltzed into my office out of the blue and was like, ‘I gather Luke Whiteacre needs to get out of something? I want in.’ I mean… who does that?! He didn’t even say hi when he walked in!”

Fran snickers at your terrible impression of Harry. She hasn’t met him yet but she knows there’s no way he talks like that. “And you’re upset because he didn’t say hi?”

“Fran!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” she hastily amends. “Look, maybe he’s just trying to help? He’s not taking your case, babe, believe me. You’re still on it, aren’t you?”

“Well, I am,” you let out another sigh.

“See?” She goes on. “And even if he tries to, Luke wouldn’t let it happen. He’s been your client since forever.”

“Still. I don’t like the fact that he thought he could just walk into my office and hijack my case,” you say in exasperation. “I’m gonna kill him, Fran. I swear to god I’m gonna kill him.”

Fran burst in laughter, muttering your name in a chastising tone. “Don’t. You won’t look good in prison stripes,” she shakes her head. “Really rubs you in the wrong way, doesn’t he?”

“Absolutely,” you roll your eyes.

“Come on, babe,” she continues with a smirk. “I’ve said this before, you need to shag him. Take out all those frustrations…”

“Keep that up and I’ll put your name on my people-to-murder list next to his,” you grunt, standing up from the couch and head towards the kitchen hoping to find some treats from the snack cabinet.

Fran giggles as she takes her laptop back onto her lap and begins typing. “Let’s go out,” she suggests. “Been a while. You look like you could use a night out.”

“I can’t,” you slump against the couch with a bag of chocolate buttons. “He’s on his way here.”

“What? Harry?” She looks at you in surprise. “Why?”

“Yeah,” you shrug carelessly. “We need to work on Luke’s case.”

“Have you still got some condoms in your room?” She says teasingly. “I’ve got some just in case you need them. Just-”

The sound of the doorbell rings cuts your best friend’s teasing remark. It’s definitely Harry, and you give Fran one last death glare and Ross Geller’s version of middle finger as you get up from the couch and walk towards the front door to let him in.

“Hey,” he greets you with his usual smug smile that irritates you to no end. “Lovely flat you’ve got here.”

“We better get started,” you say dismissively as you close the door behind him before you lead him into your living room. You suddenly realise that it’s your first time seeing him not in one of his expensive suits. Not that you care enough about him to notice that. It’s just he happens to be wearing a lot of Jermyn Street suits, and you know they don’t come cheap. 

This time he’s only in his crisp white button-up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbow. His arms are full with folders that you asked him to take from the office, and as the two of you walk into your living room, you see Fran turning her head to greet him. “Hi.”

“Hey, you must be Fran,” he smiles as he strides to the couch.

“And you must be Harry,” Fran replies, before tilting her head to smirk at you. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now?” Harry chuckles. “Only good thing, I hope?”

“Oh,” Fran can’t help but snort. “Only the best.”

You end up ordering Chinese because neither of you have had dinner, and Fran ends up helping both you and Harry on the case in the living room. Even with three heads brainstorming together you’re still struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

It is now past midnight and you and Harry are still working on your case. Fran has gone up to her room a little over two hours ago, leaving just the two of you in your living room. Your coffee table is strewn with photocopied draft contracts, financial reports, note-pads covered in scribbles, post-its and two cups of cold coffee from four hours ago that both of you keep accidentally drinking. Take-out boxes are littering the floor, and you can barely keep your eyes open as you read through yet another file to find literally anything which could potentially help.

“I tell you what, this is ironclad,” you let out a heavy sigh as you throw the document on the coffee table in defeat. “Houdini wouldn’t even get out of this contract.”

“We need to adjourn,” Harry suggests, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Regroup tomorrow to get to the bottom of this with clear heads. I’ve got a trial at half nine but I’ll be done by noon.”

“I can’t rest before we figure this out,” you state stubbornly, pausing for a second to let out a yawn. “But you go home. I’ll let you know if I’ve got something.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “You have to rest. If you were to come up with something you would’ve by now.”

You feel a stab of indignation. “Are you saying that I’m not capable of getting to the bottom of this myself?”

“Fuck’s sake,” Harry says in exasperation. “How did you even come up with that? I was just saying you’re knackered, well we both are, so we’re not thinking clearly. But you know what? If you wanna keep going, that’s your decision. But I’m not going to.”

“Well, I never asked you to!” you retort defensively.

Harry rolls his eyes as he gets up from your couch, heading towards the door without saying another word and you can’t help but groan in annoyance. With Harry, you’re quite capable of going from calm to seething in 0-60, and you’re too pissed to even notice Fran stifling her giggles from the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah,” Fran appears in the living room with a glass of water in her hand, staring at you with one eyebrow arched high. “There’s no tension there at all.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, give it a rest!”

***

By two o’clock you’re already exhausted and brain dead after only three hours of sleep and non-stop work since this morning. You haven’t even had lunch yet, but even just the thought of eating already makes you nauseous because you can’t stop thinking about how crushed Luke is going to be when you tell him that he’s going out of business. Truth be told you don’t want to jump that far, but what Harry said last night keeps replaying on your mind like a broken cassette. ‘If you were to come up with something, you would have by now.’ And here you are, twenty-eight hours later, still have got nothing.

Speak of the devil.

“Where have you been?” Harry asks in a prickly tone as he walks into your office. His brows are knitted together and he looks concerned. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Honestly, a ‘hi’ would be nice.

“I’ll tell you where,” you shift your attention from your computer and look at him. “I was getting screwed by Berkeley Group and trying to figure out what to do about it.”

Harry gives you a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“I went there with a dozen win-win offers and they shot down every single one,” you say stonily.

“Did you threaten litigation?” asked Harry, a bit superciliously.

“Harry, I threaten them with everything but the kitchen sink,” you flash him an incandescent look. “The thing is, this contract is airtight and they know it.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Harry says promptly with a glint of hope in his eyes. “And this won’t make Luke go out of business.”

“What you on about?”

“Slicing and dicing,” says Harry with a smug smile. 

You flash him another incandescent look. “Are you telling me that your big brilliant idea is to split his commercial division from his retail?”

The glint of hope disappears from his eyes as he looks at you. “This is the only way out.”

“Cutting someone’s arm off is not a way out!” you practically shriek. 

“It is if their life depends on it!” Harry yells in frustration, the volume of his voice matches yours and you can’t help but notice two associates stop for a second just to have a peek at you and Harry having a screaming match before they continue walking past your office.

“Look,” he begins again, and you know he’s calmed down a little because he’s not as loud as three seconds ago. “If we do this, we have a chance to get Berkeley back to the table before we cut anything off.”

“Listen to me Harry,” you venture after a pause. “I’m sorry but we’re not going back to Luke with this bullshit. Thank you for your help so far, but you’re off the case.”

“What?” Harry turns to you in disbelief.

“You heard me,” you give him a dismissive blink that makes him feel like an insect. “I’m taking back this case.”

You turn your attention back to some random document on your desk, pretending to read carefully, not daring to meet his eyes. Luckily he leaves your office without saying another word after a second or two of pause, and you slump back further on your chair as he slams your door behind him.

For the rest of the afternoon you’ve decided to keep yourself busy with your other cases, but you know deep down you won’t be able to focus on anything else before you get Luke out of the woods. You can’t let him go out of business. You just can’t. Not only because you’ve been looking after his company for years, hell you were only an associate when he first became a client, but you also saw with your own eyes how his company grew. He was only just starting his business when he came into your firm, and you witnessed it firsthand how he nurtured it into the big and successful company it is now.

On a side note, you also can’t stop thinking about what happened in your office earlier. Sure, you and Harry don’t particularly get along like a house on fire, but you didn’t have to be so rude, did you? His approach to the problem might be different than yours, but deep down you knew he was only trying to help.

So on your way to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea, you decided to stop by his office. You know you owe him an apology. 

“Hi,” his door is open but you decided to knock anyway. “Mind if I come in?”

He looks up at you instantly, pushing his chair a little further away from his desk to break his attention from his computer. “Of course not, come in.”

“Look-”

“Look-”

You both say simultaneously, before breaking into a chuckle. 

“Let me go first,” he begins with a smile, which for some reason doesn’t look smug this time and you nod. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. That case is yours to begin with, and I should’ve trusted you to bring it home how you see fit.”

“Well I’m sorry too,” you add hastily. “Guess I let my emotion get the best of me back there. I was rude when you were only trying to help.”

“Hey, no need to apologise to me,” he replies without flickering. “I absolutely understand.”

“It’s just,” you continue as you saunter to his desk. “Luke was my first client. Ever. The first time I went solo on a case, it was for his company. I just can’t let him down.”

“Look, we don’t know that yet,” he assures you gently. “And even if it comes to that point, it’s not your fault. If anything it’s the general counsel’s fault.”

“Holy shit-” you say suddenly. “Harry!”

“What?” he looks at you in confusion.

“The general counsel didn’t just make one mistake,” you go on as you look at Harry with glimmering hope. “He made two, he never ran the final contract by me.”

“Holy shit he didn’t,” Harry remarks. “Because he knew you’d catch any mistake. So he didn’t make a mistake…”

“No it was on purpose,” you can’t help a pleased little smile coming to your lips. “Isn’t it a coincidence that he just signed a contract to work at a subsidiary of Berkeley?”

“This is brilliant,” he replies excitedly. “You’re brilliant.”

“Say that again?” you joke.

“No, you need to get them on the phone right now,” Harry gives you a rictus smile. “And I need to find us some bloody champagne.”

***

Harry grins as he walks into your office and asks, as though you’re mid-conversation. “Have you made the call?”

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” you grin when you notice a bottle of Moët & Chandon in his hand. “Where did you get that?”

“Leftovers from the Christmas party,” he chuckles as he quickly opens it . “How’s it? What did they say?”

“Well, the contract is back exactly the way it was,” you begin, giving him a smug smile for a change. “Well, with a twenty five percent increase.”

He looks at you suspiciously, one of his eyebrows arched high. “Twenty five?”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes comically. “Forty.”

“Bloody hell,” he chuckles. “You don’t mess about, do you? Remind me to never mess with you.”

You laugh and take a sip of the champagne. “We need to celebrate this.”

“Do you wanna go out?”

“Oh no, I’ve got something better,” you smirk as you hand him a folder. “Take a look.”

Harry takes the folder promptly and begins skimming through the documents, occasionally taking sips of the champagne in between. “Aha, you need to get out of a deal.”

“Exactly,” you grin. “We need to get out of a deal I negotiated for a mobile payment app with our client’s credit card provider.”

“This is a three years deal and you’re only three months in,” Harry observes as he continues skimming through the files.

“Well, that’s what makes it fun, innit?” your grin widens.

“Oh, absolutely. This is fun,” his eyes twinkling in delight. “You don’t have any legal grounds to do it. Have you got something in mind?”

“Mhm,” you hum as you take another swig of champagne. “I think if I can find a reason to pay into a trust instead of to them directly then we can squeeze them…”

“Make them take a buyout,” Harry adds.

“Look at us finishing each other’s sentences already,” you make an elaborate gesture with your champagne flute and Harry gives you a shrill laugh.

“We’re best friends now, aren’t we?”

You retort at once. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Alright,” says Harry, his eyes still flashing with amusement. “That’s a good plan by the way. What do you want me to do?”

“I need precedents by noon.”

“You’ll have them on your desk by nine am sharp,” he smirks.

***

Harry keeps his promise.

When you arrive in your office at a little over nine, there are six folders from Harry waiting for you on your desk, which means that he didn’t only get you one or two but six precedents for the new case that you’re both working on. This is the boost of confidence that you need, because today you’re scheduled to go to the judge’s chamber and meet with the lawyer on the opposing side. Who knows, maybe this will be a quick one and the case will be over by the end of the day.

Well, that’s a nice thought. But in order for the case to be dismissed, the lawyer from the opposing side needs to show up here first and foremost. You’ve been sitting in the judge’s chamber for nearly fifteen minutes now, and he has warned you about ten times that if the other lawyer doesn’t show up, he would have to deny your motion to dismiss.

“Hello, sorry I’m late,” a voice pipes in from the door, and when you turn around, you see a woman with a smug smile that reminds you of Harry’s, clad in L.K. Bennett from head to toe walks into the room. She offers you a hand before she sits down, and you politely reach out yours for a handshake. “Camille Sweetings, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now?” you give her a mocking smile as you begin confidently. “Well, you haven’t lived up to your obligations and according to these six precedents, we have the right to nullify this entire deal right now.”

You really don’t like the look on her face. Any other lawyers would at least be slightly ticked to hear that, but she still has the same smug smile across her face. “You don’t have the right to do anything, you’re in violation of your contract.”

“Paying into a trust isn’t a violation,” you frown.

“No,” she agrees. “But meeting with the competition is.”

You can’t see your own face, but if you do, you’re most likely to look like you’ve just seen a ghost. How did she even know that? You try to remain calm and look at the judge. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“No,” she’s smiling as she says the word. “You just didn’t know I’d find out about it. Your Honour, I’ve got a confirmation that YN YLN has engaged in a pattern of dirty tricks, unethical behaviour and borderline illegal activity. All in the name of ‘representing’ her clients.”

Your rage simmers up into a froth. “If you’re gonna say all that about me, you better damn well be able to back it up.”

You want nothing more than to rip off the smirk across her face as she hands two files to the judge. “Here are two of Ms YLN's old cases. There you’ll find settlements withheld and meetings with the competition.”

“How the hell did you get these?!” you exclaim indignantly. “Your Honour, my past cases have no relevance here.”

“No, but your answers to my question do,” he says sternly. “Did you or did you not meet with the competition last week?”

***

You stride back into your office furiously. Who the hell was that woman? You didn’t even know her yet she apparently knew a damn lot about you. Nobody even knew you had a meeting with the competition last week, so there has got to be something bigger going on yet you just can’t seem to figure that out.

You begin to realise maybe this whole case isn’t a good idea and you silently promise yourself that you will never take on anything with getting out of contracts or deals or basically everything that Harry is good at ever again. This isn’t your thing, this is Harry’s. Your thing is everything that has everything to do with mergers, acquisitions, all that, just like Fran’s thing is everything with fashion law. This whole thing is really stressing you out and you plan to speak to Harry when you get the chance later today to just hand him the case. 

Speak of the devil.

“Hey! How was the hearing?” he sounds jovial as he walks into your office with a bright smile. “Should I get another bottle of champagne for tonight? Of course when I say ‘get’ I meant ‘steal’ from downstairs.”

“The judge bit my head off,” you scoff.

He flashes you a quizzical look. “What? Why?”

“The other lawyer found some dirt about me,” you begin, already seething as you picture her face with that bloody smug smile in your head. “She found two of my old cases and said really nasty things about me to the judge. And before you say anything, no, I didn’t do anything illegal. But I’ve got to admit it was unethical.”

“Shit,” he looks at you, concerned. “Look, there’s no way they could’ve found all those shit just like that.”

“That’s what I’m thinking about,” you reply at once. “There’s got to be something bigger going on. This is a desperate move, I tell you.”

“I agree,” he nods. “It sounds shady, and in my experience the other side only does something like this when they’ve already done something even shadier.”

You look at him with a glint of hope. “So you also think they’re hiding something?”

“Yeah,” he sounds so sure. “And don’t worry, we’re gonna find it.”

“Good,” you remark. “Because there’s no way in hell I’m gonna let bloody Camille Sweetings get the better of me.”

“Wait, who?” this time, it’s Harry who looks like he has just seen a ghost. The colours have drained from his face, and you look at him in confusion.

“Camille Sweetings,” you repeat yourself, wrinkling your nose in disgust because you hate the sound of her name rolling out of your lips. “Why? Do you know her?”

“Have they put my name on this case?” he ignores your questions.

“Yeah, yesterday,” you frown. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

He takes a deep breath before he begins, looking at you in the eyes. “She and I, well, uh, we were together for a while.”

“What?!” you can’t hide your dismay. “Fucking hell, Harry. As if this isn’t complicated enough!”

You lapse into silence for a few seconds, neither of you knowing what to say.

“I think this is personal,” he ventures after the pause. “Look, if you want me off the case now, I completely understand. I won’t fight you. But I hope you don’t because you need help now more than ever.”

“Just,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Please get out of my office.”

***

By nine pm you’ve already come up with three win-win offers, yet Camille bloody Sweetings gives you a shrill laugh every time and shoots down every single one. Honestly, she is the female version of Harry. They make a great couple, those two shady bastards. They should’ve gotten married and make a couple of shady children.

“Sod off, Harry,” you say without even moving your head from looking at your computer, but you know he’s standing in front of your office, probably waiting for the right time to come in. Honestly, he might be a brilliant lawyer but he sucks big time at a simple game of hide and seek. Behind the wall? That’s a toddler-level hiding spot.

“No,” he insists, finally walking towards your desk. “I wanna help.”

“I told you I don’t need your help,” you give him a dismissive blink that makes him feel like an insect.

He says your name sternly, making you look in his direction and finally meets his eyes. “Believe me, you do. You think I’m shady? That bloody snake is ten times worse. You need help, and I don’t care what you say because I’ve just checked and my name is still on the attorneys listed.”

“Fine,” you concede. “Take a look at this. This is as best as she could get yet she bloody refused them all.”

Harry takes the files from your hand and quickly skims through the documents, muttering one or two profanities under his breath before he puts them back on your desk. “You know what, we’re going out tonight.”

Is he joking? 

“My arse is on the line here in case you haven’t realised,” you look at him in disbelief. “She pulls shit like this again, it’s gonna cost me my license.”

Your name rolls out of his lips again and he looks at you without blinking. “Come on, we need to blow off some steam. We don’t do that, we’re gonna kill each other.”

Three hours later, you feel like you’ll never be able to get out of the comfiest bar stool you’ve ever sat on. You’ve never been to Hawksmoor, but Harry swears this place is good even though it’s filled with boring bankers with their ties stuffed in suit pockets (not that Harry’s tie isn’t also stuffed in his suit pocket, but, you know, at least he’s not a banker), so you followed his lead and let him take you here.

The salvaged furniture, low lighting, comfy seating and charming staff make it an easy place to settle into. Sitting beside you is Harry with his neat whiskey, which you realise that he hasn’t finished when you’ve already had three refills of your gin and tonics. Your head is most likely going to fall off tomorrow morning, you just know it.

“Argh,” you groan. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Right now?” Harry deadpan. “Huge quantities of alcohol.”

“Sod off,” you playfully nudge his shoulder. “By the way, you’ve got more ex-girlfriends lawyers I should know about?”

Harry laughs, his eyes crinkled and shining. “I’ll send you a list.”

“Good,” you mumble against the edge of the glass, before taking another swig of your drink.

“How about you?” Harry is smirking at you, one of his eyebrows arched high. “Any lawyers you’re seeing that I should know?”

You laugh. “I don’t shit where I eat.”

“Shut up,” Harry looks at you suspiciously, still with a huge shit-eating grin. “You’re telling me you’ve never got involved with anyone at work?”

There’s silence.

“Shit,” Harry remarks. “Who was it?”

You exhale sharply before you answer. “Luke.”

Harry takes a gulp of his drink. “Well, that makes sense.”

“You don’t even know which Luke I was talking about,” you frown. “You could be wrong, you know. There are millions of Lukes.”

“Oh, of course it’s Luke Whiteacre,” he chuckles. “Didn’t go to law school for nothing, did I? But I’ve got to say, it finally makes sense.”

“Don’t say anything to anyone,” you say sternly, starting to realise that you’ve probably made a mistake of telling him. “It was a long time ago anyway.”

“So, how was he?” he’s grinning.

You can’t help but laugh. “Are we having a girl talk right now?”

“No,” he shrugs carelessly. “Just wanna know how he was.”

“You want me to go into details?” you tease, and even though he doesn’t say anything, you know he’s glad you’re not as tense as a few hours prior. “Cause I could. What do you wanna know? Stamina? Girth? Technique? I could go on…”

“Ew!”

You’re laughing so hard that you nearly fell off the bar stool if Harry didn’t quickly catch you, and you realise this is the first time your arm brushes against his, and for a second you’ve both stilled, but you ignored it because this doesn’t mean anything. You’re both drunk anyway. “Why did you break up with she-who-must-not-be-named?” you peer at him.

“We had a pregnancy scare,” he says, looking down for a second at his drink before taking another swig.

“Shit,” you gape at him. “Was she-”

“No, she wasn’t,” he shakes his head. “But it made me realise that she’s not the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, let alone actually having children with. So I called it off.”

“Sorry,” you can’t help yourself from chuckling. “But you made the right decision. Don’t have a baby with a snake.”

“Don’t apologise, you’re right,” Harry joins you in laughter. “How about you and Luke? What happened?”

“Work got in the way,” you drain the rest of your drink before motioning for the bartender to get you another one. “I was only an associate back then so I worked so hard to get junior partner. And his company wasn’t as big as it is now so he was working crazy hours too because he was trying to expand it. We saw each other about three times a month for half a year before we called it off.”

“Three times a month?” his eyes widen in surprise.

“Mhm,” you hum, mouthing a thank you to the bartender as he hands you another drink. “We were besotted but we just didn’t have time for a relationship.”

“Do you still-”

“What? No,” you laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. The ship has sailed now.”

“Good,” he smiles at you, before hastily corrects himself. “I mean, good for you.”

You take another big gulp of your drink before you push it away. “Alright, playtime’s over,” you smirk at him. “Let’s get back to work.”

“Are you joking?” he gives you a quizzical look. “It’s nearly midnight and you’re drunk.”

“I just need two cups of coffee and a cold shower and I’ll be fine,” you reply as you hop off the bar stool, he quickly reaches his hand out for you to hold. “Let’s go back to my place so I can have a quick shower.”

“Let’s go to mine,” he offers. “Technically Maida Vale is closer from here than Hammersmith.”

“Are you trying to take me home, Styles?” you deadpan, your voice a little slurred. “Should’ve bought me dinner first, don’t you think?”

“Hey, I’ve bought you lots of dinners,” he retorts. 

“No, Styles,” you shake your head, chuckling. “Clifford Chance bought me dinners. Been using the company’s card, haven’t you?”

Harry laughs. “You’ve got me.”

***

In under an hour, you’ve arrived at Harry’s flat, had a cup of coffee, and a cold shower just as you requested. You’ve ditched your work dress and slipped into the clothes that Harry had laid on his bed for you; a blue Mickey Mouse t-shirt and a pair of black shorts, and when you walk into his sitting room, you see him sitting on his plush sofa with some clipped documents in his hand.

Your eyes dart around his flat once again as you plop yourself down on his sofa. He’s got a great taste, you’ve got to admit, because his flat is lush. It’s on the fourth floor of a beautiful, red-brick, Edwardian mansion which Maida Vale is well-known for, and the inside is modern meets classic. The gray panelled walls blend nicely with the elegant patterned wood floor, and the cream curtains really tie the look of his flat altogether. It really is a gorgeous flat, not to mention the white marble en suite and his really neat, sparsely decorated bedroom.

“Alright,” you begin, taking a document into your hand and begin skimming through briefly only to put it back on the coffee table in less than thirty seconds. “I’ve been at it all day, we’ve been at it for a while and it’s getting us nowhere. I think we need to shake down some employees.”

“And that’s all well and good,” he turns to look at you. “But if we don’t know what to ask, we’re not going to get any answers.”

“Yes we will,” you insist. “They don’t know what we don’t know, do they?”

“They don’t know what we don’t know…”

“That’s literally what I just said,” you frown.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Look, I’m saying according to this report, their accounts are growing by 200% a month.”

“Wait a second,” you remark. “If that’s true then why are they clinging to this deal like it’s their newborn and I’m Herod?”

“Because maybe they’re not really growing by 200% a month,” Harry adds. “Look, March, 5 million new users, but 60% of these card holders don’t even seem to know they have the cards.”

“Holy shit,” your eyes widen in surprise. “The people are real, but the accounts are fake. Harry, this isn’t just shady, this is the type of shit that lands someone in prison. And if Camille knows all this…”

Harry grins. “Wait til the judge sees this.”

“The judge?” you look at him suspiciously. “Why don’t we just leverage them into letting us out?”

“Because, darling, we have the upper hand now,” he says, still grinning. “We can’t give her a chance to get it back.”

“Harry, if Camille has anything to do with this it would ruin her,” you warn him. “I can’t let you do this to someone you once cared about.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about her,” Harry says harshly. “Not anymore. If she doesn’t want to be ruined she shouldn’t have gotten involved in this. And she damn sure shouldn’t have fucked with someone I care about.”

“What?”

“You better get some sleep,” he jerks his head towards his bedroom. “We’re going to the court first thing in the morning.”

***

Harry’s bed has got to be one of the comfiest places on earth.

He gave you his bed for the night and opted for the couch, which you bet just as cosy so you didn’t really feel bad. When you wake up, he’s already clad in his white button-up shirt and black trousers, swinging the fridge open to get a freshly squeezed cranberry juice.

“Morning,” he smiles when he notices you as he pours some coffee and juice for both of you. “Have some toast.”

“You know how to treat your guest with a good breakfast, don’t you?” you tease him as you look around the jars on the breakfast nook. There are several kinds of luxury marmalade, strawberry jam with champagne, wild blossom honey and even Belgian chocolate spread. Honestly, who is this man?

“No hangover?”

“Surprisingly, no,” you chuckle. “I mean my head is pounding of course but it’s not too bad, nothing I can’t handle.”

“You want some nurofen?”

“No thanks,” you shake your head and take the cup of coffee from Harry’s hand. “Harry, we need to talk.”

He sighs. “You’re gonna try to change my mind, aren’t you?”

“I am,” you nod as you look through the jars of fancy jams, trying to choose one, before going with just salted butter instead. “I can’t let you do that. She might be a snake but I’m not. We’re not.” 

Harry just look at you in silence, and you continue.

“If we do this, then what’s the difference between us and her?” you go on, trying to sound convincing. “We’re better than that. We’re good people, you know.”

“But we’re going to make her pay,” he finally concedes and you smile. “Really make her pay.”

“That I agree,” you nod. “Okay, I’ll just go home quickly to get changed then we’ll meet at the office? Need to pay her a visit don’t we?”

“We can just go together,” Harry suggests. “We’ll stop by your flat then we can go straight to that snake’s office.”

***

“Are you crazy?” Camille flashes an incandescent look at both you and Harry. “I sign that, my client will be on the brink of bankruptcy!”

“So you rather go to prison?” Harry frowns and you try to stifle your giggle. “I mean, it’s your choice, but-”

“Fine!” she says in exasperation. “I’ll sign it. But give me your word this wouldn’t go out of these walls.”

You hand her the file and pen, and as she’s signing it, you can’t resist yourself. “You go near me or my clients again I swear to god you are dead fucking meat.”

Harry can’t help but chuckling, and you both don’t waste another minute in Camille’s office before you head out with smug smiles plastered across both of your faces. 

“You’re a badass lawyer,” he compliments you as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Stating the obvious there,” you smirk as you slide into his car and buckle up your seat belt. “But thank you, you’re not a shit lawyer yourself.”

“Since we’re passing compliments, shall we do it over a drink?”

“Drinks, Styles,” you shoot him a savage smile. “And you’re buying. Not Clifford Chance.”

Harry laughs, closing the car’s door. “As you wish.”

-

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#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles drabbles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #lawyer!harry #harry styles au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles ff

[sokkascroptop]

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 3

A/N: Finally we get to see Azula’s true nature! Also, the first time we get to see Zuko!! To be clear, Azula is in this fic a lot, but this is far from a redemption fic. 

part 1 | part 2 | part 4

Zuko caught Y/N’s eyes like he wanted to ask her a million questions. But she was too embarrassed about everything to hold his gaze. She looked away hoping she didn’t look too guilty or shameful. She joined Azula in staring out the window. The cherry blossom trees were in bloom. They covered every square inch of sky as she looked out. It filled the room with a sweet scent that Y/N knew was going to permeate their clothes when they left. If she let her eyes go unfocused it looked like there was a raging fire in front of her. 

Y/N found herself outside in the palace gardens. She was running from something, but it wasn’t scary. She was laughing and she heard other girls laughing around her. She began to climb a tree, stifling her giggles the entire time. For some reason, she had to be quiet.

“You’re going to get in trouble for being up there,” Someone said from below. 

Y/N looked down between the branches to see a boy her age. He was wearing a high ponytail held with a small fire pin. 

“Why?” she asked. She jumped down to the lowest branch and sat there hanging her legs over the side. She didn’t want to get down just yet. 

He arched one eyebrow. “Just ‘cause. If the palace gardener sees you climbing the trees, he’ll yell at you.”

“Well I’ll just tell him that my new friend is Princess Azula and that’ll shut him up.” Y/N laughed again and made a start to go back up the tree.

“Well, I’m her older brother Prince Zuko and I’m telling you, you’re gonna get in trouble.” He looked like he wanted to emphasize his sentence by sticking his tongue out at her. 

“Why aren’t you playing hide-and-explode with us?” Y/N asked. She jumped down and landed lightly in front of Zuko. They were the same height, which made her feel oddly proud. 

“I don’t like playing games with Azula,” Zuko said. “I’m ten–”

“–well I’m nine and a half and I can still have fun,” Y/N interrupted. 

“You’re almost my age and you’re friends with Azula? What happened? Did you get held back?” Zuko taunted.

“No!” Y/N made a face. Suddenly she felt very self conscious. She didn’t know what ‘held back’ meant but it didn’t sound good, not when he was laughing at her. “This is the first time I’ve ever gone to real school. I just got put in her grade.” 

Suddenly a fireball landed at Y/N’s feet; sparks flew up and singed her pants and burnt her legs. She squealed, a mix between surprise and pain. 

“Azula!” Zuko snarled. He half stepped in front of Y/N, all hints of the earlier teasing gone. Zuko produced a similar fireball and threw it at Azula’s feet but she kicked it away, making it land in a nearby bush. 

“You’re it, Y/N,” Azula ordered. 

“It’s not fair, Azula. She’s not a bender,” Zuko argued. 

“Neither are Mai and Ty Lee. And they don’t whine like babies.” The last part she directed at Y/N with a sneer. 

“I’m not whining!” Y/N protested. She pushed Zuko out of the way and covered her eyes, beginning to count to twenty. She peeked at Zuko at fifteen. All the girls had already scattered but he just stood there watching her. “I’m faster than Azula anyways. I can catch her.” 

She paused and looked at Zuko who stood there awkwardly. “Are you going to hide or what?” She asked. When she covered her eyes again she heard him run away, looking for a hiding place. She waited a beat before counting again, “–SIXTEEN, SEVENTEEN..”

Y/N woke to darkness. But it was always dark below deck. The only light came from candles and lanterns hung in the hallways. Her own candle was only an inch high and fading fast from the accumulation of wax. She could feel the familiar rock of the ship lulling her back to sleep… Y/N sat up quickly. She could tell that it was morning, possibly very early but she couldn’t risk going back to sleep. She tucked the covers under her neck and over her shoulders to snuggle down to ask the important questions. Why was she dreaming of Zuko? 

The day they met was probably one of their most innocent and least notable moments. At least that’s what she thought. Or it was possible her brain was trying to make her feel guilty about what she and Azula were going to do today. That day wasn’t the last that Zuko had tried to protect her from his sister, it actually set the stage for years of him standing up to Azula in her place. Not that she needed it, she could hold her own plenty, but it felt nice to be protected. 

Sometimes she wondered if they had more time together, if they’d have become better friends than her and Azula. Even though he was a fire-bender too, he spent a lot of training with his dual swords. Time that was spent with her on the training grounds. They sparred daily until his banishment; spirits, Y/N was sure they’d even sparred the day of the war meeting that started everything. Now she was going to find him, and lie to him, knowing that what awaited him at home was not a crown but a prison cell. Y/N shook her head to clear it and slid out of the bed and into her clothes. No use in thinking of the past when her future was all that was necessary. Honor and glory and all. 

Y/N could hear Iroh and Zuko arguing a mile away. Azula and her had gotten there an hour before and broke inside the little cabin they were living in. They’d not so inconspicuously gone through all their stuff and upon not finding anything worth while, sat around just waiting. 

“We don’t need any more useless things. You forget we have to carry everything for ourselves now!” Zuko lamented as Iroh dumped a bag of seashells on the table by the door, that looked suspiciously like the same seashells next to Azula on their dining table. Neither one had looked up to see them inside. 

“Hello, brother,” Azula said. “Uncle.” Both of the men jumped. 

“What are you doing here?” Zuko asked as he stepped his body in front of Iroh’s. He looked from Azula to where Y/N was sitting in the window sill behind Azula. Her stomach dropped. This was the first time she’d seen his scarred face. Pink and red scars circled his left eye and wrapped far back enough to cover his ear. His hair was no longer long, but shaved around his ponytail. He looked so much older even though it had only been three years. Y/N wasn’t sure what made him look so different, whether it was a scar that marred his face or the anger that seeped deep beneath his pores. 

“In my country we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions.” Azula picked up a seashell and inspected it. She glided across the room to stand in front of him. She was so much shorter than Zuko and Y/N but she carried so much power. “Have you become uncivilized so soon, Zuzu?”

“Don’t call me that!”

“To what do we owe this honor?” Iroh spoke up, breaking up the fight between the siblings before it started. Y/N moved to stand behind Azula. 

“Hmm, must be a family trait. Both of you are so quick to get to the point.” Azula was still playing with the men like they were rabbit-mice. She snapped the shell she was holding in her hands. “I’ve come with a message from home. Father has changed his mind. Family is suddenly very important to him. He’s heard rumors of plans to overthrow him–treacherous plots.” Y/N looked to Zuko to gauge his reaction. His face had softened at hearing the news from his Father.

“Family are the only ones you can really trust,” Azula told him earnestly. “Father regrets your banishment. He wants you home.” Azula paused to look out the window. 

Zuko caught Y/N’s eyes like he wanted to ask her a million questions. But she was too embarrassed about everything to hold his gaze. She looked away hoping she didn’t look too guilty or shameful. She joined Azula in staring out the window. The cherry blossom trees were in bloom. They covered every square inch of sky as she looked out. It filled the room with a sweet scent that Y/N knew was going to permeate their clothes when they left. If she let her eyes go unfocused it looked like there was a raging fire in front of her. 

When no one said anything, Azula whipped her head back around to stare at her brother. “Did you hear me? You should be happy, excited, grateful. I just gave you great news.”

“I’m sure your brother simply needs a moment–”

“Don’t interrupt, Uncle!” Her voice changed from sickeningly sweet as she plied Zuko with the words he wanted to hear to savage as she screamed at Iroh. Azula had never learned to be patient, and she wanted them on the ship now. “I still haven’t heard my thank you,” She growled at Zuko. “I’m not a messenger. I didn’t have to come all this way. I could have sent Y/N for this.”

Y/N tensed at her words. She bit her tongue so hard that she tasted blood. How dare Azula think she was her messenger hawk?

“Father regrets? He wants me back?” Zuko muttered. Y/N felt like this was a conversation with himself that they were all intruding on. Y/N had to admit that the words that Azula used to trick them were sweet as honey, but also not very believable. 

Y/N touched the back of Azula’s arm. “I think that he needs time to take this in. It’s all very sudden for him.” She sent a smile in Zuko’s direction that he did not return. 

“I’ll send Y/N to call on you tomorrow.” Azula concluded and she and Y/N took their leave. 

“Why are you sending me tomorrow?” Y/N asked once they were out of range of the house. 

“Zuko trusts you more than he does me,” Azula admitted. “I figure even if he decided he doesn’t want to come, you’ll be able to sweet talk him down the hill to our little ship.”

“Zuko and I were–” 

“Oh shut up, Y/N. You two always had an eye for one another.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. “I–”

“Besides that’s the reason my Father wanted you to come anyways.” They had reached the wooden dock that the ramp to their ship rested on. 

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks. “What?” 

Azula cocked her head. “Well, I figured you’d caught on to that already the way you were making moony eyes at my brother up there.”

“I wasn’t–How was I supposed to know I was only brought here to flirt Zuko’s ass all the way back to the Fire Nation?!” 

“Just back to the ship. Once he gets here we’ll put him in a jail cell.”

“AZULA!”

“Look,” she snarled. “You’re good with a sword but what the hell is that going to do against a fire bender? It’s a fact that you being a non bender means you’re a liability in a fight.” Azula turned and marched up the ramp. That was the end of the discussion even if Y/N had more to say. 

She looked down at her toes at the blue-green water between the slats. She could feel her eyes burning with unshed tears. She blinked them away and followed Azula onto the ship. 

Y/N fisted her hands in her tunic and stalked to her room. Control your anger, control your anger she repeated over and over in her head. She wasn’t like Azula or Zuko, she couldn’t make something with the anger that grew and festered in her chest. She couldn’t throw a fireball at the nearest wall and hope that her anger dissipated like the sparks that fell to the floor. She shut her door and immediately balled up her fist and let it slam home against the wall. The thin metal crumpled easily under her hand. It stung, but that was good. Y/N let out a breath she thought she’d been holding since the dock. She collapsed onto her bed and pulled her knees to her chest. 

It wasn’t a secret that she was a non-bender. But it’s not like it didn’t hurt to be reminded that she wasn’t as worthy because she was one. 

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#sokka x reader #avatar sokka #sokka #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #zuko #azula #aang #katara #toph beifong #iroh #atla #a:tla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #avatar #avatar resurgence

[matthiasschoenaertsdaily]

Matthias Schoenaerts full interview for De Morgen Magazine (original in Flemish, translated into English by @matthiasschoenaertsdaily​)

Interview by Els Maes, published on November 28, 2020

Even a global pandemic will not destroy the optimism of actor Matthias Schoenaerts (42). Because he knows from his own experience how much beauty can emerge from the most hopeless situations. "I've had my back against the wall often enough, I'll always find a way out."

A bleak autumn day on a concrete square. There is lukewarm coffee, lukewarm Chimay and rolling tobacco. At dusk we see the silhouettes of fat rats that shoot past our ankles. And yet Matthias Schoenaerts will tell us in a glowing argument that this, here and now, is the very best place to be. That there is so much beauty to discover, he says. Le paradis c'est ici. As long as we want to see it.

"It's strange to say in this unpleasant period, but I've enjoyed the past few months enormously. It's the first time in ten years, since Runskop actually, that I'll be home for a long period of time. This is so beneficial: I am photographing, painting, writing. I can devote time and attention to the very simple things we'd otherwise race past."

"Seriously, look at that," he says, picking a leaf off the ground. "Those colors, that pattern. I can spend hours looking at the pure beauty of the things that surround us."

Above us a pigeon is wreaking havoc between the thinned out foliage. "While you are singing about the wonderful beauty of nature, that animal is going to shit on our heads," I say. "And that too will be a s-p-l-e-n-d-i-d moment," Schoenaerts answers.

Matthias Schoenaerts is Belgium's most successful international film star. But here and now, on a bench in his hometown, he is a technically unemployed actor, an all-round searching artist, but above all: fighter of cynicism. "I refuse to go along with all negativity and fear. The true battle today is cynicism versus courage. And I always choose the latter."

We're on the Oudevaartplaats, the square that everyone knows as the Antwerp Bird Market, and where Schoenaerts' childhood memories are waiting to be picked up. It comes into the conversation just like that: Brando, the cute chow chow that little Matthias got from his mom on this square, when here on the bird market puppies were still sold. "My dogs were my great loves. The home situation was often difficult, and with my dogs I found security. We had three chow chows, those fluffy lion dogs with a blue tongue. Brando was the first, I loved that animal."

"We lived in a small apartment with three dogs, anything but ideal. One day we let them go, to people with a large estate. That was heartbreaking."

There is a beautiful lesson in that, about love and letting go. It would have been selfish to keep your dogs if you could give them a nicer life elsewhere, wouldn't it?

"Absolutely, but I obviously didn't process that departure properly. Brando still appears in my dreams, after all these years. Then he returns home unexpectedly, and am I mad with joy.

"I often dream about my parents too: that reunion is so intensely beautiful and warm. Oh, there you are, finally! Those dreams are true to life, and the awakening is rock-hard."

Is that one of the reasons why you like being here in Antwerp, because here you feel more connected to the people that you loved?

"This is my home, my zero, I can't imagine a place in the world where I would rather live. When my mom was alive, and especially when she got sick, in between filming I tried to be with her as much as possible here in Antwerp. In the meantime I have an apartment here, my first permanent place of my own, but I've hardly been there in recent years. Now I can finally enjoy my home, I find peace, tranquility and inspiration there. I have seen fantastic sunsets on my roof terrace in recent months. So much beauty, and you can just admire it there, every day, for free. As long as you take the time to enjoy it.

"Normally I would have started filming again in April, and left for a hectic ride of at least two years, with projects that would follow each other quickly. I was at my limits, sooner or later I was going to bang my head against the wall. I feel how beneficial it is to slow down for a moment. David Lynch said that: 'Just slow things down and it becomes more beautiful'.

"As an actor you have to work in a big machine, according to a tight schedule. I have now discovered the pleasure of creating things for myself very spontaneously in my own cadence."

Is that work something you ever want to go public with?

"I want to do something with my photography someday, but I'm in no hurry. I'm also writing a film script, I've had an idea for a trilogy for a long time. It's a very personal project, and it takes time for it to crystallize into something very pure and proper. Maybe those films will come within ten years, maybe never.

"The most important thing is to keep busy. You have to look for something, anything, on which you can focus your passion, love and attention. Of course I would like to return to set, and those projects will come back later. But if I can't change anything about a situation, why worry about it?

"From a very young age I learned that there are not many certainties in life, I adapt easily to unexpected circumstances. There is one thing I can't stand, and that is feeling powerless. I never want to be the victim of a situation, I will always think: what can I do myself? Which way can I go? I have often enough stood with my back against the wall, I will always find a way out and take matters into my own hands."

So Schoenaerts decided to use this period to put Zenith - his artist name as a street artist - to hard work. Since the lockdown he has already created nine impressive murals, including one in the courtyard of the Oudenaarde prison, and one at the beginning of this month in the Antwerp Begijnenstraat, on the bare walls that form their furthest horizon for the prisoners. A moving event, he says. Not only by the touching conversations with inmates, and the forty-minute applause with which the prisoners welcomed him. "The mural contains a poem by my father. While I am there painting those beautiful words of my dad on the wall, I suddenly remember that my mom used to give meditation lessons to the prisoners there in the Begijnenstraat. I had completely forgotten about that until I stood there. How beautiful that is. Suddenly I felt my parents very tangible, very close to me."

It's a bit funny: a long time ago you were arrested for graffiti, now they invite you to prison to make a mural.

"I used to tag a lot, but I really don't like the vandalism that sometimes comes with graffiti. Defacing a facade, that's just ridiculous. But trains, bridges, tunnels.... frankly I think that's the max. Soon I'm going to do another oldskool graffiti wall, with some friends, back to the roots. But with permission, yes."

Scary dudes

The problems of the Belgian detention system are well known: outdated infrastructure, overcrowding and a system of pre-trial detention which means that some people are innocently stuck for years. Schoenaerts: "These are human lives that are destroyed by the Belgian state, isn't that scandalous?"

Schoenaerts' engagement started years ago, after meeting Hans Claus, prison director in Oudenaarde, who contacted him when he wanted to organize a screening of Le Fidèle, the film by Michaël R. Roskam starring Schoenaerts. Claus has been fighting for many years for a reform of our detention system, among others with the non-profit organization De Huizen, small-scale centers that are more focused on rehabilitation and reintegration of the detainee. How does Schoenaerts see his role? "Those murals are a kind of lubricant for me, to get attention for this problem. I am not the expert and I am certainly not a politician. This injustice touches me as a human being, and my message is clear: please listen to the people who have been working hard for decades to reform the system from the inside."

In The Mustang, your last feature film to be seen here before the lockdown, you take on the role of a prisoner who learns to tame wild horses and his demons. Has that role changed your vision?

"That rehabilitation program with mustangs really exists, and the chance of recidivism is almost zero percent. I had a conversation in the Begijnenstraat with the minister of Justice Vincent Van Quickenborne (Open Vld, ed.), and he told me that the chance of relapse here is 40 to 50 percent. Isn't that madness?

"That's what fascinates me most of all: what do we do with those detainees while they're stuck? How can we help to break the destructive patterns that put them in prison? Imprisonment is a punishment in itself, but someday we'll send those people back into society, so let's mainly support them in their self-development.

"In preparation for The Mustang, I visited prisons in the U.S., and talked to men who had been detained for 20, 30 years. Heavy guys: Aryan Brotherhood (powerful crime syndicate of neo-Nazis in American prisons, ed.), Mexican gang leaders... real scary dudes. You know what those say to me? That they live in fear every day, but they must not show weakness. Psychological counseling and things like that have their value, but that's often very cerebral. I especially believe in the healing power of art. Imagine that inmates can express all those fucked up emotions through art: I think that there is an enormous potential in this."

I heard you're playing with the idea of giving acting lessons to inmates?

"That's not a concrete plan yet, but I would love it if people from the creative sector would commit themselves to this: musicians, sculptors, dancers. Or writers who help prisoners put their own story into words.

"The cultural sector needs to start sticking its neck out. The sector is lying flat, and that's terrible. But we have to keep moving. We can all do something for the community, without being paid for it. Planting small seeds, doing something good for your fellow man, something beautiful always comes out of it."

Had you been to a prison before The Mustang?

"To visit friends, yes. In Merksplas, Hoogstraten, Hasselt, Dendermonde... We shouldn't talk about that any further. A prison is deep tristesse. Who dares to call that 'a hotel', shame on you."

This summer you painted an impressive mural in Paris in honor of George Floyd, murdered by American officers. And in Ostend last week a new mural was unveiled, with a 'decapitated' Leopold II. Is activism an important part of your street art?

"Graffiti used to be more of a style exercise for me, you want to create things that get noticed within the scene. But gradually I felt like communicating with a wider audience. I like to incorporate a lot of symbolism in my paintings, such as the cracks I photograph all over the world and then magnify them in another place. And the praying hands, a universal image of hope and faith in yourself. Art has the power to speak to our deepest emotions, and that is what binds us to the other. Connectedness, empathy, harmony, solidarity, that's the essence for me."

The corona crisis is one big exercise in empathy and solidarity. Sometimes we seem to lack that.

"I refuse to surrender to cynicism, and I surround myself with positive people who do beautiful things for others. This period would lead us to insights: how do we deal with each other? Do we help each other, or is it every man for himself? A human is such a wonderful creature, but we mess it up so much for ourselves.

"Yeah, I know. Some people who read this will think: this guy is smoking too many joints. (laughs) I don't smoke joints, and I'm not an unworldly idealist. But I will always focus my attention on the good, in spite of everything."

If you always want to see the good in people, are you sometimes disappointed?

"Yes, of course. I'm not a naive brat, I've learned to guard my boundaries. I can't please everyone all the time, and I don't let anyone rush me. I react badly when people put pressure on me because they want things from me. The perception of me that others have of me, I can't control. I don't let myself put out of balance easily anymore."

I saw that on your Instagram Stories you warned about fake profiles on social media, of people pretending to be you. That made you visibly angry.

"Really, that makes me angry. Every day I receive screenshots from people who have been tricked by crooks who approach innocent victims with my name and my pictures. There are stories of fans who have paid thousands of euros because they were promised a meet-and-greet with me. How disgusting is that? One person has transferred 14,000 euros to someone who pretended to be my manager.

"Of course, that raises questions about how gullible some people can be. But I've seen those chat conversations for myself: those criminals are terribly sneaky. They know how to play on the vulnerabilities of their victims in a very cunning way. This is manipulation and swindle of the filthiest kind.

"Really, I get physically unwell when I think about it. How can someone be so mean? If I ever catch these guys, I'm gonna bash their skulls in, I'm not kidding. Sorry."

Or: those crooks get a jail sentence, where you're going to give them acting lessons.

(laughs) "Okay, let it be clear that I think everyone should be punished for their crimes. My commitment to the prison system is not a plea for impunity, and I certainly don't want to romanticize crime.

"But when someone abuses innocent people's trust in such a cunning way, the question is: how did you derail so morally? And above all: how can we initiate a transformation in that person? Surely you can't lock someone up and expect that person to suddenly make better choices years later? First such a person has to take responsibility for his own actions."

Do you have something criminal on your conscience?

"No." (Thinks for a second) "No. Thank God. I couldn't live with that.

"I've probably hurt people in my life, like everybody else. Sometimes we just hurt people because of who we are, or because we can't fulfill what others want from us. But I have never harmed anyone consciously or criminally, no."

As a teenager you sometimes came into contact with the juvenile court, for vandalism. Do you think you could have ended up on the other side of the bars?

"Probably, a life can take strange turns sometimes."

What made you sit here today, and not get on the 'wrong' path?

"Wait... that's a good question. There's the one terrible dramatic event that caused a total turnaround in my life: when my dad went into a coma after a psychosis, and I was told he only had 24 hours left to live.

"I was 21 then, thrown out of school for the umpteenth time. I was doing graffiti and wanted to find my way creatively. But I was messing around, going with friends who... Anyway, there was latent danger, it threatened to go a little bit the wrong way.

"And then I got that phone call: come and say goodbye. Bam. The relationship with my father had been sour for years, we hardly saw each other. Until I stood there at his deathbed in intensive care... I only felt love, a wave of emotions that I had pushed down very deeply. That realization was rock-hard: this was it. My father and I will never get the chance to figure shit out, I thought.

"Long story, the rest is known: after 72 hours my father woke up from a coma against all odds. Like a plant: he could not speak, reacted to nothing or nobody. According to the chief psychiatrist, we had to accept that his condition would never improve. That was without the fighting spirit of my mother and me.

"It's because of that unlikely event that I've changed my whole lifestyle. For eight months, my mother and I went to visit my father every day. We talked to him, but he seemed to look straight through us. For hours we sat with him at the psychiatry department of Stuivenberg, how desperate those first months were also. We continued to fight, taught him to talk, to eat, to walk. A miracle, the doctors called it. Bullshit of course. It was love, dedication and stubbornness. Especially thanks to my mother, the lioness who kept fighting for him. And see how much beauty came out of it. My life then received an entirely different impulse.

"I suddenly think of an anecdote I've never told before. After a while we were allowed to take my father to the cafeteria once in a while, or to the garden. But he was absolutely not allowed to leave the hospital. Fuck it. I hid a bag of clothes for him, secretly dressed him in the toilet and took my father to the city. By bus, because I didn't have a driver's license. I wanted to stimulate his senses, test if any memories would come back. He was fond of Our Lady's Cathedral, so that's where I wanted to take him."

Matthiaske, why am I crying?

He plays it out. The written version here is only a dead script compared to the lived-through performance, right there on that dark square, just around the corner of the Arenbergschouwburg, where Matthias made his stage debut as a 9-year-old boy next to father Julien, as The Little Prince.

Matthias shows how he supported his frail dad, and how they shuffled in small, careful steps towards the cathedral. Dad looking at the ground to be sure not to fall. "I say, 'Dad, look up'. He looks up, and I see the tears rolling down his cheeks. I had never seen my father cry. 'Matthiaske,' he says, 'can you tell me why I'm crying?'

"I had already decided then that I would take my father into my house. Overconfident, yes, at that age, but they have become the most beautiful years of my life. Mom came by every day to help. Suddenly we were a bit of a family again, something we had only been for a short time when I was young."

It was at that time that you decided to become an actor. Why did you decide to become an actor?

"I had always resisted following in my father's footsteps. In my youth I mainly wanted to break away from my father, and seek my own path. I didn't want to have anything to do with him and all those loudmouths around him in the theater world. But most of all I was terrified that compared to the great Julien Schoenaerts I would never be good enough.

"Only now do I understand why I then decided to go to the conservatory. Not to become an actor, but to understand my father. We had so many years together, and now that we had been given a second chance, I wanted to get to know him as well as possible. By acting, maybe I could get closer to him." (pauses)

Sentimental fuss

He banishes the tears. It's one of the many things he has in common with his father, he says: they're both very emotional, but they hate sentimental fuss. "Come on, Matthias: breathe," he commands himself.

"Voilà, see how much beauty can come out of misery. What a chain of beautiful things came out of the fight my mother and I put up in the most hopeless situation. Who knows how differently my life would have turned out?"

"There are so many lessons in that. If we just talked about the rehabilitation of detainees, for example. It takes commitment. Not a workshop of two hours. You have to persevere, even in the event of a setback, with no guarantee of a happy ending. That's why I think it's so important to keep telling that story about my dad. Those are the values I believe in: dedication, stamina, attention, love. You can apply that to everything in life. Love is the fuel."

You often talk about your parents as if you want to keep them alive with your words.

"Because my mom and dad are the people I've loved most. With them I shared the most important moments, built the most beautiful memories. That loss is enormous. Life has been really fucking tough since they've been gone.

"That's what grabs me so much in this period. How many people have died of corona in Belgium?"

According to Google, today, on the day of the interview, the counter stands at almost 14,000 deaths.

"Fourteen thousand! Imagine how many people that has an impact on? How many people have suddenly lost their mother, father, brother, sister, best friend or neighbor? Behind those figures lie tens of thousands of poignant stories, of people who see a loved one torn from their lives. That is a mountain of unresolved grief, and far too little attention is paid to it."

Earlier during our conversation a guy had walked past coughing and maskless. It pissed Schoenaerts off: "And whining about masks or strict measures. Grow some fucking balls. Having to say goodbye to a loved one, that's the worst thing."

"Isn't that what this period teaches us? That our time here is limited? And what really counts in life: sharing moments of beauty with the people you hold most dear. All the rest is wallpaper. Having success, making movies, that's all fun. But the day you lie on your deathbed, you really don't think about the professional successes on your resume. No way."

#matthias schoenaerts #interviews #misc #by us

[jarienn972]

La Sirena - Chapter Ten (Epilogue)

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 

(that’s finally being completed in winter)

We have reached the finale of this @cssns tale at last. This has been such a fun and challenging experience trying to build this universe, and I hope that readers have found it enjoyable as well. Thanks for all of your lovely words and feedback along the way!

I thank you, @kmomof4, for all of your assistance and input. You rock as a beta!  And @courtorderedcake​, thank you once again for the beautiful artwork that really brought to life the imagery of the opening chapter!

And now, back to the story... Here, we pick up moments after a stubborn and confused Killian pretended to be asleep to avoid his brother. He’s about to get a wonderful surprise...

Catch up from the beginning here on Tumblr: One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Or read in full on AO3 or FF.net

The instant that Killian was certain that Liam was out of earshot and wouldn't be present to scold him for faking sleep, his eyelids sprang open wide to behold the most wondrous sight. Perched in the chair just to his left was the very same angelic vision he'd first laid eyes on back on that deserted beach days ago. She looked different with her long, gilded tresses pulled back by a ribbon and seemed a bit more diminutive while wearing a vastly oversized sailor's white uniform tunic and navy woolen trousers but he knew for certain it was her.

But how? How was he gazing upon a beautiful siren here in his own quarters? How could she be here and still be real?

"Emma? It's you!" he exclaimed, trying to sit upright to greet her properly despite the pain. "What are you doing here? How are you even here, Love?

"One question at a time," she chuckled as she reached over and placed her hand atop his forearm to urge him not to move. The moment her fingers brushed his skin, he felt a tingle pass through his entire body - one that was warm and tender. His heart was suddenly racing, but it was no longer driven by fear or anxiety. He welcomed her touch, her presence. "I'm here because this is where I belong and it would seem that even the gods agree."

"But you're a siren. I thought your home was those isles and the surrounding seas? I thought you couldn't leave without…" His voice trailed off before he could say sacrificing your powers.

Her demeanor rapidly switched from jovial to serious at Killian's off-handed, yet important questions. Her eyes avoided his for a moment, then recaptured his gaze with an intensity he'd not seen from her before. There was a new melancholy about her as she took in a deep, reflective breath before responding.

"That cove was no longer my home. In truth, it was far more of a prison for longer than I care to remember. I thought I was happy alone when I left the ranks of the siren council, but I had no idea how wrong I was - until you floated into my bay." Killian's jaw gaped in stunned silence as he watched the tears begin to well in her eyes, but she shushed him when he tried to reply. There was more to her confession that she needed him to hear before he could respond properly. "I may have rescued you from drowning that fateful day, but it was you who rescued me from an eternity of loneliness. And then watching my sister attempting to harm you only strengthened my resolve…" She paused to take a breath, unsure how he was going to react to her next words. "I guess what I am trying to say is that I am here right now on this ship, wearing these ridiculous garments because I knew I couldn't let you go. I risk sounding like a fool right now, but there is something I must confess. I love you, Lieutenant Killian Charles Arthur Jones of His Majesty's Royal Navy. Nothing in my entire lifetime has felt as right as the days I spent with you, and because of that, I asked the mighty Poseidon to make me human so that I could accompany you."

"Emma… I…," he stammered, his thoughts an incoherent jumble.

Her jaw wavered as she dipped her head, almost ashamed of her utterance. "I'm sorry if I've upset you, but after all we've been through these past days, I believed you should know the truth. I do understand if you do not feel the same as I do."

Ignoring his body's cries of pain, Killian threw off the blanket and forced his protesting limbs to sit upright, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk so he could position himself close enough to her that he could cup her cheek in his palm and brush away a tear with the pad of his thumb.

"Emma, there is no need for tears," he assured her. "While I will admit that your revelation to be a siren - and all of the events that followed - were a tad horrifying, I still knew I would gladly spend the remainder of my years stranded in that cove with you. But you, you gave up being a siren - being immortal - for me?"

"What good was being immortal if it meant losing you?" she said with a sniffle just as Killian leaned forward to capture her lips with his, neither of them even caring if Liam were to reenter Killian's quarters right then and there. For a brief moment, the universe was theirs alone until Killian's protesting rib cage caused him to reluctantly pull away, but not without more questions.

"But my brother and the crew, they didn't suspect you to be any less than human? Liam, he addressed you as Miss Swan? Since I don't believe that sirens have family names, wherever did that come from? Whatever did you tell them whilst I was incapacitated?"

"No one suspects me to be a siren, if that is your worry. Once your fellow crew members reached the cove to rescue you, I had to tell them something, so I led them to believe that I was a fellow prisoner from the sunken pirate ship. They believe that the pirates attacked my family's vessel prior to abducting you on that isle of Neverland you spoke of. It isn't as though any of them could corroborate my story with your captors. The crew also collected several damaged trunks and weathered chests that had washed up on the shore, believing them to be part of the stolen loot from the sunken ship. I happened to notice that there was a swan's head carved into one of the wooden trunks so as I boarded this vessel, I introduced myself to your captain as Emma Swan. Do you believe I should have chosen something else?"

Killian chuckled at the thought of her thinking up a surname on the spot. "I don't think anyone will make the connection. I kind of like it. You're beautiful and graceful like a swan. It suits you."

"Thank you," she blushed. "I hardly feel beautiful in these borrowed clothes. This fabric, it is rather unpleasant."

"I'm sure we can find you some attire more suitable for a lady when we next make port. Women aren't common on the high seas. There's an old legend that they're unlucky."

"What nonsense," she muttered with a frown. "But no matter. I have it on good authority that no harm will come to this ship. No creature of the seas would dare challenge Poseidon's edict."

"I still don't understand how this is possible. How does my brother not know that the expedition to the uncharted island went horribly wrong? He wants to award me a bloody commendation that I don't deserve. They think I've lost my mind."

"This will need to be our secret, but the events as you remember them never actually transpired," she stated, which of course left Killian befuddled. He opened his mouth, prepared with a barrage of questions, but she raised a hand to shush him, wanting to explain what she meant before letting him speak. "I know you will have many questions, some of which I will never be able to answer, but in simple terms, Poseidon modified all of the events that led up to your brother's ship arriving to rescue us from the cove. Everything that transpired remained in the same order, but not in the same manner. You still encountered the pirates on that island, they still took you prisoner, and the sirens still laid siege to the ship before it ran aground and sank, but Poseidon changed the scope of each event and allowed your brother's ship to pursue the pirate vessel to locate you. Your injuries were all believed to have come at the hands of your pirate captors and during the escape from the sinking vessel. They have no reason to suspect otherwise."

"But what about my crew? Does no one remember their sacrifices?" he queried anxiously, afraid that those men's lives had been lost in vain.

"Some of them were never there, never set foot on the island. Others were there but their fates were changed by the modified events," she explained, although her words did little to alleviate his confusion. "In this revised timeline, there was no actual battle with those scoundrels. You alone were captured by the pirates. I have no way else to explain, but essentially, Poseidon changed how your history played out. No one beyond our realm will ever know of the version you lived through."

His jaw remained slack as he shook his head and tried to come to terms with a turn of events that was nothing short of miraculous. "But how? Why?" he stammered. "Why would he do such a thing?"

"He said I reminded him of his daughter, Ursula, and he recognized your good heart - much like the man Ursula fell in love with so long ago. He knew you'd been wronged, as had I, and he wanted to put things right. He granted my wish to become human and accompany you, and brought your brother's ship into the bay so you could be saved by your kind."

"Do you know what became of your sister?"

"Not all. I do know that she had her powers revoked for abusing them and that she was made mortal, although not by choice in her case. I don't know if Poseidon turned her human or made her a permanent creature of the sea, and in truth, I don't care. I've made my peace with it. Now, all I wish is to be with you, if you'll have me."

"I wish for nothing else," he replied with a beaming smile. "I just don't know what sort of life I can provide for a former siren… There's so much out there…"

"And I want to experience it all!" she exclaimed giddily as she gestured towards the faded map of Britannia that Killian had pinned to one of the beams lining the walls of his cabin. "I know little of the world beyond our isles. If my time is now finite, I want to see and experience as much as possible! I want to visit these other lands and sail the other seas…"

Killian chuckled at her enthusiasm, not really sure what would be physically possible, but hey - after surviving several harrowing encounters with mythical beings and living to tell the fantastical tales, he was open to adventure.

"Whatever your heart desires, Emma. Whatever your heart desires is what I want for you," he repeated as he pulled his siren - his beautiful angel - in for another heartfelt, lengthy kiss, almost certain that he felt a surge of energy embrace them both.

A few years later…

It was a perfect morning. Only a few wispy clouds broke up the brilliant blue skies as gentle ripples made their way across the serene harbor. Crew lowered and secured the huge canvas sails of the Jewel of the Realm as Liam oversaw their arrival at the dock. His sailors worked like a well-oiled machine performing their tasks, which was a good thing since their Captain might have been a tad distracted.

Instead of supervising lines being tied off, Liam was scanning the shoreline in search of something - or rather, someone. He'd made sure to send out correspondence through courier when they last made port making sure that Killian was aware the Jewel was on its way to the port of Misthaven where they'd agreed to rendezvous.

He hadn't been particularly overjoyed when Killian had decided to resign his commission upon return to Britannia, but if he was honest, the decision hadn't come as much of a surprise. His little brother had endured a harrowing experience, one that Liam knew he could never fully understand. In the process, he'd formed a bond with the lovely Swan woman and Liam had seen all the signs that Killian had fallen head over heels in love and feared lengthy deployments at sea that would keep him apart from his love.

Liam also had to admit that he was a little envious of his brother, but it was clear that while Killian loved the sea, his calling wasn't a career in His Majesty's Royal Navy. He knew that his sibling had taken up as captain of a merchant ship, but since it had been nearly a year and a half since he had last seen Killian, he was curious to see how his brother was faring in his new pursuits.

"Ahoy, brother!" he heard a shout from the pier and off in the distance, he spotted his sibling waving like a fool. And was he wearing black leather?

Once the Jewel was safely moored, Liam gave out his instructions for crew liberty and then made his way down the gangplank with dozens of rambunctious sailors at his heels. He chuckled as they darted past him, scurrying along the pier on their way to one of the local taverns. At least one of them would likely end up spending a night in the brig for overindulgence, but Liam couldn't be bothered with that right now.

His brother awaited him at the far end of the pier, casually leaning against a stone pillar with his foot propped up on an overturned barrel. It was a far more confident stance than Liam recalled when they'd last seen each other, but it was Killian's attire that spoke volumes about his newfound fortitude. He'd not expected to find Killian sporting an ebony leather duster that hung to his knees atop of a bold crimson waistcoat and black woolen trousers that, even from a distance, appeared to be far softer than Liam's own scratchy uniform. Killian clearly seemed to be happy and must have been doing well for himself to afford such luxuries.

"You look well, brother," Killian greeted him.

"As do you," Liam replied, pulling his younger sibling into an embrace and patting him heartily on the back. "Whatever are you wearing?"

"Ah, this…," Killian smiled as he took a step back so Liam could take in all of the elaborate detail on the coat which included embroidered cuffs and lapels along with silver clasps and carved bone buttons. "This was a gift from Queen Ava. The circumstances behind how it came to be is a rather long tale that I'll not bore you with since we've little time to catch up."

"Of course…," Liam responded, raising his eyes skyward with a shake of his head. Killian always seemed to have a new, unbelievable tale these days. "Where ever is that lovely wife of yours? I expected she would be here with you."

"She's waiting for us back on our ship. It's getting a tad more difficult for her to get around these days."

"So then, my new niece or nephew will be arriving soon?"

"Soon enough. Likely before the next full moon. It is why we'll be sailing back to the port of Arendelle, leaving the day after tomorrow," an excited Killian announced.

"Arendelle?" Liam questioned. "Why are you heading there?"

"We were invited by the Queen, and one simply does not turn down the invitation of royalty."

"You were invited by Queen Elsa?" Liam asked incredulously as they ambled along the cobblestone street towards another section of Misthaven's bustling harbor that was filled with smaller fishing boats and merchant ships. He tried to figure out which of the vessels was the one Killian now owned but he couldn't be certain.

"Queen Anna, actually," Killian corrected him. "Queen Elsa stepped down from the throne last year as she believed her more vivacious sister was better suited to handle the duties of the royal court."

"Alright, but that still doesn't explain how you secured a royal invitation."

"While sailing the Northern Isles last summer, we stumbled upon the wreckage of a galleon that had partially sunk in a narrow, rocky fjord. We explored it to see if there was anything worthy of salvage and located a chest containing a crown and other treasures that had been stolen from the Kingdom of Arendelle. We returned the riches to the castle and received a hefty finders fee for our efforts and Emma made fast friends with the Queen. We've made several visits back to Arendelle and have kept in correspondence with the royal family. As soon as Queen Anna learned that Emma was with child, she extended the royal invitation to come join them in the castle. She's already arranged a midwife for Emma, and has said we're welcome to stay as long as we wish. Can you imagine - living in a castle? I would never have thought it possible…"

"I'm very happy for you, Killian, and very proud of you as well. For someone who believed himself a failure not so long ago, you seem to have fortune smiling upon you."

"It hardly seems possible, brother. I feel like the luckiest bloke in all the world," Killian gushed, stopping at the bottom of the gangplank of a decent sized ship with a single towering mast. It was far more compact than the Jewel, but still large enough to carry crew and cargo comfortably. "Here we are. This is our lovely lady, La Sirena."

"Beautiful vessel. Interesting choice of name though. What led you to christen her after such a creature?"

"Oh, I have my reasons," Killian smirked. "But anyway, here's Emma now." A broad smile lit up Killian's visage as he stared up at his wife who was leaning over the railing on the deck above them. "It's almost unfathomable how I ever got so lucky that the gods would send such an angel to watch over me." Emma didn't say a word herself but the smile that stretched from ear to ear across her own face seemed to echo his sentiment.

But then maybe she suspected that the love that blossomed from a heart that was true and good was worth far more than a little bit of luck.

#cssns #cssns 2020 #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs au ff #siren emma #la sirena

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: the forest is your only escape from the everyday troubles with your family until you find danger lurking behind the trees. or rather, danger finds you. your fateful encounter with the vampire ravn leaves you wishing for a different life. you strike an unexpected deal with the stranger that will soon turn into something more…

pairing: vampire!ravn x reader

side characters: seoho and leedo

genre: vampire!au, ANGST, romance, humour, fluff

warnings: blood mentions, major character death (kinda?), swearing (like twice), i’m back on my shakespeare shit, insecurities, secrets being revealed, slight making out, biting

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: this chapter is heavily based on beauty and the beast in case it wasn’t obvious so far

part one 🌙 part two 🌙 part three 🌙 part four 🌙 part five 🌙 part six🌙 part seven 🌙 part eight 🌙 part nine 🌙 part ten🌙 part eleven 🌙 epilogue 

You had successfully managed to stop the bleeding but Seoho was still unconscious. You were so worried. Even though your first encounter with the wizard was quite unpleasant and revealing of his hatred for humans, you still didn’t want him to die. 

Not only because he was Ravn’s best friend, but because he had come for you alongside Ravn. To save you from Leedo…This poor man had risked his own life. And you couldn’t just let him bleed out. The guilt would kill you. So, you just sat there next to him, waiting for Ravn to come back with herbs and medicines. After what seemed like eternity of pressing his wound, Seoho suddenly opened his eyes.

“Oh my God, how do you feel?” you inquired anxiously.

“Better,” Seoho murmured. “Stay back.”

“What? But I have to keep pressing the-“

He shook his head.

“I’ve got this.”            

You did as he asked and gave him some space. Then, he placed his hand on his stomach and some strange light emitted from it. You watched in disbelief as Seoho healed himself with his magic. A couple of minutes later, he was perfectly fine. He was even standing!

“If you could have done this all along, why did I have to bother trying to save you like an idiot?” you were getting frustrated.

“I couldn’t,” Seoho explained. “I needed sleep to recharge my energy. Casting a spell to find you was quite exhausting.”

“So, my actions weren’t entirely useless, then?” you had to make sure.

“No, I’m grateful,” he smiled weakly.

“So am I. You both came for me,” you whispered thankfully.

“And about what you said to Leedo about Ravn. It was all an act, right? You wanted to deceive the werewolf?”

“Of course,” you confirmed. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to go back to Ravn. But this was the only thing I could think of. I lack in physical strength, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Seoho chuckled lightly.

“I misjudged you terribly. You’re not like other humans.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You actually care about Ravn, don’t you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Speaking of him, where is he?”

“I asked him to get herbs and medicine from the castle. But seeing how well you’ve recovered, it seems to me I’ve sent him on a fool’s errand.”

Seoho looked away guiltily.

“It wasn’t entirely pointless,” he argued. “At least you kept him from making me his dinner.”

You laughed despite yourself.

“He wouldn’t.”

“I’m quite delicious,” Seoho joked. “Anyways, now that I’m fine we should go to him,” Seoho suggested. “Unfortunately, I’m drained by the healing magic, so we’ll have to walk.”

“It’s fine,” you were determined. “I don’t mind.”

“You don’t understand. I have a bad feeling,” he said. “I can’t explain it but...do you honestly believe Leedo would let this whole thing go just like that?”

“I’m not sure what I believe anymore. But let’s get going and make sure Ravn is okay.”

🌙🌙🌙

Ravn’s POV

The second I entered my castle, I stormed into the kitchen for herbs and medicine and whatever I could find that would possibly help Seoho. I couldn’t believe how shitty these past few weeks had been. First, Y/N got kidnapped by a freaking werewolf and then, I miraculously found her but said werewolf stabbed my best friend. It was so messed up.

I gathered a couple of things that seemed useful for Seoho’s wounds and meant to hurry out of the castle. Only…fate had different plans. I heard yelling and screaming coming from the outside world. When I looked outside of the window, I realized I was surrounded. By humans, mostly. And they were all led by Leedo. Of-fucking-course. Shitty weeks just got shittier.

They were all carrying wooden stakes made of juniper. Which had the ability to kill a vampire like myself. Splendid. What bothered me was how Leedo and the humans knew what could hurt me? I had only told Seoho and Y/N about the damn wooden stakes. Seoho would never tell another being my secret. Which meant Y/N had…No, I couldn’t afford the time to think about that. So what if she had betrayed me to Leedo?

I was probably going to die within minutes. It didn’t matter anymore. And she was alone with Seoho. Had she planned this all along? To keep me prisoner in my own home, surrounded by embittered people Leedo had turned against me? And Seoho was too far away to save my sorry ass. Or vice versa. I had left him there all by himself, trusting her completely…Only to walk right into a trap. It seemed too damn suspicious and I hated myself for doubting her intentions but it was the most plausible explanation. Why else would she insist on me going to the castle? Alone…

In that moment, I realized I had only two options. Option one was to stay inside for as long as the gates could hold. But without blood, I would practically starve to death. Option two was to go out there and try to fight the humans and Leedo. But with all these wooden stakes, I would undoubtedly get killed.

And even though they were all coming to murder me, I didn’t want to kill them. It would make me exactly the kind of monster people described in fairy tales. However, I was no coward and I had no intention of staying inside to die of starvation. I would leave my castle and fight. Not for myself, I no longer cared if I survived. I needed to save Seoho. If it wasn’t too late already.

So I went outside and fought as hard as I could. But they were too many and too bloodthirsty (not like me but still). And I was alone. Everyone I cared about had abandoned me. In the end, it was Leedo who stabbed me with the wooden stake. The humans were too slow to capture me but the damn werewolf had managed. In my final moments, I thought of her. Even if she had betrayed me, I wanted to see her one last time. Tell her…I didn’t know what exactly, I just missed her. But it was too late…

🌙🌙🌙

Reader’s POV

When you and Seoho finally reached Ravn’s castle, it was too late. The beautiful garden was on fire. The place seemed like a ruin. The gates were wrecked. You and Seoho exchanged a worried look and hurried forward without saying a word. Only to find Ravn’s lifeless body, wooden stake through his heart. No, no, no. You couldn’t believe it. He was…dead. And not in a vampire sort of way. You knelt down next to him, sobbing inconsolably.

“No, please, you have to wake up,” you cried out.

“He’s gone,” Seoho pointed out coldly.

“Can’t you do something?” you screamed desperately. “Heal him! Please!”

“I can’t resurrect vampires, Y/N,” Seoho responded. “If I could, I would have done so already.”

You kept crying, shaking Ravn’s body helplessly.

“What happened?” you asked Seoho, hoping he would have the answers.

“My best guess is that Leedo gathered some humans and they surrounded the castle. I can still smell them, they must have left minutes before we arrived.”

“How did they know that wooden stakes can…” you choked out.

“I don’t know, Y/N, you tell me,” Seoho accused you.

“Seriously? You think I told Leedo something?”

Seoho shrugged.

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“Unbelievable,” you scoffed. “Maybe they read about it in a book, have you considered that for a second?”

“It’s not in the lore.”

“I’m so exhausted of being blamed for shit I didn’t do,” you groaned. “I just lost the love of my life and you still won’t believe my sincerity.”

“You love him?” Seoho eyed you suspiciously.

“Of course I love him, you asshole,” as you said that a treacherous tear fell down your cheek and onto Ravn’s cold, lifeless face. You kept crying harder and even kissed him, as Seoho simply stared at the scene unfolding right in front of him. “I love you, Ravn, please, come back to me,” you were repeating the same words like a mantra. As if they could turn back time. As if it mattered. You had never told him you loved him. You had hinted it, naturally, but never said those three little words. And now that he was gone, he could no longer hear them. You wondered if he had known. It would break your heart if he had not. “I love you,” you kept saying without thinking. Your eyes were closed and you were just lying on top of Ravn, refusing to let go. Until Seoho interrupted you.

“Y/N, look! His chest is rising and falling,” he exclaimed.

You pulled away briefly to see for yourself if what he was saying was actually the truth.

“That’s impossible,” you mumbled as you witnessed Ravn’s slow breathing.

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing, you damn sorceress!” Seoho chuckled bitterly.

You stared at him in confusion but did so anyway, repeating your confession, as tears continued to fall from your face and onto Ravn’s. But he was still gone, eyes closed and unmoving. However, as you held him tightly, you realized something had changed. Ravn was no longer cold! It was so strange. His hands were warm…they almost felt…human.

“Seoho, touch his hand!” you screamed in disbelief.

The wizard did as you suggested and then, took a couple of steps back, as if to assess the situation.

“This can’t be real.”

And yet it was. You couldn’t understand what was happening but you felt like the only sensible thing to do was continue telling Ravn how you felt for him. After a couple of minutes, what you had been hoping for took place before you. A sight so dear and yet so unfamiliar. A sight that felt like home. 

🌙🌙🌙

Ravn’s POV

When I opened my eyes, I felt…different. But I didn’t have much time to analyze what was going on because I was flooded by Y/N and Seoho’s excited kisses and hugs.

“You’re alive!” they squealed excitedly.

“What…how?” I asked, overwhelmed by all the affection I was suddenly receiving.

“Y/N saved your life,” Seoho explained calmly. “She kept sobbing and saying how much she loved you. I don’t understand it myself, but I suggest we talk about it somewhere else. If the humans and Leedo come back for us, we might not be so lucky next time.”

“Seoho’s right,” Y/N agreed reluctantly. “We have to get out of here!” she grabbed my hand and pulled me up. “Let’s run!”

Seoho shook his head.

“No need, my magic has been recharged,” he shared. “I can teleport the three of us anywhere you wish.”

“Anywhere?” Y/N questioned hopefully.

“In fair Verona where we lay our scene,” I suggested which earned me another eager hug from Y/N.

“Shakespeare nerds,” Seoho rolled his eyes, but grabbed our hands and teleported us anyway.

Once we were thousands of kilometres away from Leedo and the humans who had “killed” me, safe and sound in a cosy Verona hotel, I decided it’s high time we discussed what just happened.

“Okay, first of all, I have to be honest with you, Y/N,” I started. “I’m sorry for briefly doubting your intentions before getting killed. You didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay,” she waved me off. “I’m used to it.”

“What, so when I doubt you, you throw a tantrum, but when Ravn does, you’re like, it’s no biggie?” Seoho was obviously dissatisfied by Y/N’s reaction.

“Let’s not interrupt him!” Y/N scolded my best friend. “He has something important to say. Right, Ravn?”

I nodded solemnly.

“I kept a secret from you,” I confessed. “Seoho knows about it already.”

Seoho agreed, immediately realizing what I was referring to.

“There is this myth that some vampires can be ‘healed’ of their vampirism if they are truly loved by someone pure at heart. At the time, I thought it was silly but when I met you and felt this…immediate connection I hadn’t felt before, I couldn’t help but hope. And now that I’ve had time to process, I’m pretty sure it came true.”

Y/N and Seoho stared at me, waiting for me to reveal the whole truth.

“I’m human now,” I finally announced.

“You’re what?” Y/N exclaimed at the same time when Seoho mumbled ‘I knew it’ under his breath.

“How else would you explain my warm skin, my breathing and the current craving for pancakes and pizza I’m having?”

“Aw, that’s so cute,” Y/N rubbed my stomach softly. “I’ll call room service in a minute.”

“So, you don’t mind?” I asked self-consciously. “You still like me?”

“Like?” she laughed. “I love you, silly! Vampire or human, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“I love you, too,” I said. “Even if you were a worm, I’d still love you.”

“You guys are gross,” Seoho, who was still there. “I’m heading out to get something delicious for all of us.”

“Yay! Ravn can eat human food now!” Y/N exclaimed happily as I shook my head, amused by everything. I was alive. My dream had actually come true. And I owed it all to her.

🌙🌙🌙

Reader’s POV

Once Seoho had left you two alone to get food, Ravn immediately embraced you tightly and started crying. You were so shocked you could barely move.

“Hey, what’s wrong, Ravn?” you asked him, confused.

“I’m sorry. I was such an idiot for doubting you, my love,” he spoke passionately, overwhelmed by guilt.

“It’s all in the past,” you attempted to reassure him and stroked his hair. “I would never hold it against you. I understand why you and Seoho would mistrust humans after the Xion situation.”

Ravn shook his head and pulled away from you, causing you to flinch at the loss of physical contact.

“That doesn’t excuse my unjustified suspicions. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and I…failed you.”

You gripped his shoulders firmly and looked him straight in the eye.

“Stop being so hard on yourself, darling, and just try to enjoy life, okay?”

Ravn gulped nervously.

“I don’t deserve you,” he kept saying. “I never did. Not as a vampire and certainly not as a human. You deserve so much better.”

“But you’re the best there is,” you told him and ran a finger across his cheek. “I couldn’t ask for more. You make me so happy, Ravn. You have to remember that.”

“You’re certain?”

“Both our time is limited now,” you reminded him. “Let’s not waste it.”

You climbed on top of him and began kissing him eagerly. He moaned under your touch and pulled you closer. You bit the bottom of his lip teasingly and he chucked into your mouth.

“What am I to do with you, my thirsty vampiress?” Ravn tsked gently.

“I suppose you’ll have to satisfy my hunger, my poor human,” you joked in return, earning another genuine laughter out of him.

Ravn swiftly reversed your positions so that he was now towering over you as if to help you recall who’s really in charge. Then, you continued breathing each other’s air and grasping one another as if for the first time, and in a way, it was. At least, your first time with Ravn as a warm creature with a beating heart.

“I missed you so much,” you confessed in-between kisses. “When I was trapped, I only thought of you and how badly I want to be back in your arms.”

“I know, my love,” he soothed you. “I only thought of finding you and bringing you to safety, I was so worried.”

As you were sharing your most profound emotions and getting lost in the other person, you completely lost track of time and at one point, you were interrupted by Seoho’s return and the enticing smell of pizza and pancakes.

“Ugh, my eyes!” the wizard complained, disgusted by your intimacy, even though both you and Ravn were still fully clothed!

The two of you jumped away from each other, startled by Seoho’s arrival.

“You’re back,” Ravn simply stated the obvious.

“Come on, I’m starving,” he put the food on the table.

“That makes three of us,” you smirked and gave your boyfriend a meaningful wink.

To be continued…

#oneus #ravn #ravn x reader #ravn moodboard #twilight #oneus fanfic #kim youngjo #seoho #leedo #ravn angst #romance #vampire au #vampires #writing

[aer-in-wanderland]

구미호뎐 | Tale of the Nine Tailed - Ji Ah’s Fate & the Korean Mythology Surrounding It (requested by @kestrel-of-herran)

Ask: One of the most fascinating things for me is the prophecy the fortune teller told Ji Ah when she gave him the fox bead. I feel like that's important foreshadowing for the drama's ending. How would you translate and interpret that?

Note: words/terms left in Korean require context and will be discussed below.

EP06 The Four Pillars of Fate - Ji Ah Trades the Fox Bead

Ji Ah: I’ll repay this eunhye no matter what, please? 

Fortune Teller: Okay, okay! You were a princess in your past life, do you think you’re a princess now? You think if you whine enough you can have anything. Ei! Your hand. Give me thine hand. (Ji Ah extends her right hand). Left hand!

Ji Ah: (changing hands) Left hand. 

Fortune Teller: You were born with a very special saju weren’t you! Water and fire vie on par, earth is clouded, but metal will subdue it, so though darkness should surround you (literally: all four directions, heaven, and earth), a moon rises in your sky. 

Ji Ah: I’m not sure what you mean...?

Fortune Teller: You have the fox bead! For that is your moon.

Ji Ah: Excuse me?

Fortune Teller: Give to me the fox bead. Even without a moon, your saju is overflowing enough. Therefore...!

Ji Ah: I’ll give it to you! I don’t believe in such things as palja. 

Fortune Teller: The deal...has been accepted. 

Ji Ah: Pardon? Already?

Fortune Teller: Your palm lines. Your palm lines have changed. 

(Note: I translated this working from the raw, so I haven’t seen the subs to be able to comment on them). 

Eunhye (은혜)

Commonly translated as a ‘favor’ or ‘debt,’ ‘eunhye’ is distinct from both of these both linguistically and conceptually. When Yeon says that foxes are obligated to repay ‘debts,’ he’s actually talking about eunhye. ‘Debt’ is another word entirely (빚) and it does appear occasionally. The two are distinct. The glowing ring bonds formed between Yeon and Ah Eum, and Rang and Sajang are both manifestations of eunhye. 

One Korean folktale in which eunhye features famously is the tale of the Grateful Magpies (은혜갚은 까치, literally: ‘the magpies who repaid their eunhye’). Shin Joo refers to this in EP02 when Yeon tells him about returning Ji Ah’s eyesight to her even after she tranquilized him:

Shin Joo: And you’re saying you just let her go? And returned her sight, too? 

Yeon: Since rules are rules.

Shin Joo: It’s not as if we’re magpies meticulously repaying our eunhye! Geez, how long do we have to be bound by that sort of premodern contractual relationship?

Eunhye is difficult to translate but can be approximated as ‘help or favor (as in ‘to favor someone’) given willingly.’ In my mind, rather than a debt which is a negative concept, eunhye is more of a positive concept. There’s a voluntary, good faith/good will element to it. So you’re ‘indebted’ as the result of a good deed done for you. Except it’s not so voluntary if you’re a gumiho, apparently. 

In contrast, when Yeon tells Eodukshini, ‘I’ll repay this debt shortly,’ in EP08 (could also be translated sarcastically as ‘I’ll return the favor shortly’), he uses the actual word for debt (빚) - no good will to be had here on either side. 

Saju Palja (사주팔자）

Literally ‘four pillars eight characters’ (四柱八字), commonly translated as the ‘four pillars of destiny/fate.’ The concept comes from the Chinese astrological concept that a person’s destiny or fate can be divined by the two sexagenary cycle characters assigned to their birth year, month, day, and hour. For more on that, I’ll refer you to Wikipedia. ;) 

In EP02, when Yeon asks Taluipa to look into whether Ji Ah’s parents are alive or dead, he has Ji Ah text him their saju (birth dates and times). 

I’m not sure how palmistry fits in with the concept, and am no expert in astrology, western or eastern, so I can’t offer any interpretation of the fortune teller’s prophecy, but if anyone wants to try looking into it I’d be intrigued to hear what you find. Apparently, the writer spent 2.5 years on the script, so I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that there’s actual meaning behind it. 

The Fox Bead (여우 구슬)

Fox beads are a common earmark of gumiho lore in both Korea and Japan (and probably China, too, but I don’t know enough Chinese to speak to that). In most tellings I’ve encountered, a fox can’t live without their bead, but that doesn’t appear to be the case for Yeon. I was also intrigued by the following exchange he has with the Magistrate in EP06:

Yeon: That’s the Mirror of the Moon. Do you mean to harm (literally: catch) a human with one of the four great mountain gods’ four great treasures meant to protect all creation? 

Magistrate: And so, did your fox bead protect all of creation? Or did it protect one person?

To my thinking, this implies that Yeon’s fox bead is being attributed to his status as a mountain god as much as it is to his being a fox. None of our other foxes seem to have one, but none of them are gumiho (gu = nine, ie. the number of tails), much less cheonho (heavenly foxes) like Yeon. 

I’m actually a little unclear on this front as well. According to the excerpt from the Hyeonjoong’gi (玄中記) at the start of the first episode, foxes that live to be a hundred can take human form and foxes that live to be a thousand become cheonho. Shin Joo is obviously at least 600 years old but he doesn’t appear to be anywhere near Yeon’s caliber (or even Rang’s who is half human), something he says himself, and in the spin-off he only had one tail. Yoo Ri is younger still. It’s unclear to me whether they will ‘level up' if they live long enough, or if they will never be as powerful as Yeon, regardless of how long they live. I get the sense it’s the latter. Both Yeon and Shin Joo have said that Yeon was of a different caliber from the very beginning (in EP02 and EP03, respectively). 

Finally, we haven’t been told much about the fox bead’s powers other than emitting an aura only Yeon can see (sometimes) and suppressing Imoogi inside of Ji Ah. I’m hoping we see it again before the series wraps, but not convinced they’ll have time to recover it given everything else that needs to happen.

On another note, based on the preview for EP15, it appears that the Magistrate’s Mirror of the Moon will be coming back into play. My guess is that Imoogi is going to steal it from the Magistrate and use it on Taluipa. She was shown turned to stone in the background while Yeon and Terry-Imoogi fight. That’s originally her power, so I think Imoogi may use the mirror against her similarly to how the Magistrate ‘absorbed’ the sword Yeon sent flying at him and re-directed it at Ji Ah. 

The Jeo Seung Shi Wang (저승 시왕)

The Ten Kings of the Afterlife (jeo-seung-shi-wang) [저승 시왕], as they’re known in the drama, are more commonly called the Ten Kings of the Underworld (myeong-bu-shi-wang) [명부 시왕・冥府十王]. In the subs they appear as the Afterlife Judges, which is accurate in that this is one of the key roles that they perform. As we're told in EP13, the fortune teller is actually one of them. 

Yeon: What’s the word? That fortune teller, did you find out about him?

Snail Bride: I’ve been asking around via our patrons. 

Yeon: He didn’t seem to be just another low-level native (Korean) god. What’s the geezer’s deal?

Snail Bride: This seems like just a baseless rumour, but there was talk that one of the Ten Kings of the Afterlife who rule over hell leaves his position without notice at odd times.

Yeon: Heh...Interesting. In any case, relay any news you hear about that geezer to me as soon as you hear it. 

While the Snail Bride seems to doubt the validity of the rumour, Yeon appears confident it’s true. He later relays this to Team Fox at their strategy meeting:

Yeon: Do you remember the fortune teller we met at the Korean Folk Village?

Ji Ah: Of course I remember! (Shooting Rang a dirty look) Because of someone [your] fox bead was stolen from us.

Rang: I heard rumour he’s a major big shot. Is it true?

Yeon: He’s one of the Ten Kings of Hell. 

Rang: What?!

Yeon: They say he’s also in possession of the Uiryeong’geom (geom = sword). 

Rang: No way~

Jae Hwan: What’s the Uiryeong’geom?

Shin Joo: It’s a sword that cuts evil (literally: sins). 

Jae Hwan: Cuts...evil, you said?

Shin Joo: It’s sword they say was made in ancient days by King Yeomra himself from a branch he broke off of the Uiryeongsu (su = tree) that weighs sins. But, didn’t that disappear from the world several thousand years ago? 

Yeon: (Shaking his head) Uh-uh. The Snail Bride just picked it up.

As you may recall, the Ten Kings are the ones who put a celestial hit on Rang which led Yeon to track him down and pretend to kill him (thanks for the angst), and they’re the ones who passed judgement on Yeon after he killed the mudang (shamanness) and sentenced him to time in the Snow Mountain Prison. 

It appears that there was some confusion going around that the fortune teller is King Yeomra. Given the above dialogue, I can see where people may have understood his possession of the sword to indicate that, and, in truth, we don’t know which of the Ten Kings he is. That being said, I think if King Yeomra was frequently vacating his post without notice, someone would have said something. I also think Yeomra is a big enough name that if it were him they would’ve just come out and said so. Yeomra is also Taluipa’s brother so she, at least, would know. My assumption was that he was one of the other, less well known kings. 

To conclude, this has all been a long way of saying that I have no idea what Ji Ah’s palja will mean for her fate. What I can provide is a little context. I’m not familiar with the sword, and it doesn’t turn up when I google it, so I suspect it was invented for the purpose of the show. Whether it remains a red herring until the end or shows up in the final hour remains to be seen. 

#tale of the nine tailed #nam ji ah #korean mythology #ask #totnt #구미호뎐 #남지아 #my translations #kestrel-of-herran #totnt ask

[salt-warrior]

WHEN EARTH TURNS TO ASHES

Masterlist

Chapter Seven: Loner Loser

"And how did you get locked into that classroom, Miss Linh?" Principal Strom stared down at Selene, his eyes empathetic and kind. Selene wished to tell him, but it hurt too much to admit the betrayal of her best friend.

"I, uh- I accidentally locked it." Selene glanced down at her shoes, her stomach churning with guilt. "I don't really know how. Someone might have locked it earlier and I just got shut it."

Shrugging her shoulders, Selene continued the lie. "I passed out because it just had this horrible stench of smoke. I think some kids were smoking in there before me because it was awful." Selene wrinkled her nose at the memory of the real smoke and how it had made her feel. "I have these really bad allergies and don't do well with smoke. Or cotton, for that matter." Selene coughed for special effect. She was a master liar.

Principal Strom remained skeptical, his too big shoulders hunching as he analyzed her. "And you're sure that there was no... sabotage? Are there any students who may be out to get you? Have you been bullied at all in the past or at the present?" He was on to her, but there was no way that Selene was going to let him get her.

"Nope, I'm fine." Selene smiled her most brilliant smile. She was good at pretending. She was excellent at deception. She was clever and sharp as a knife; but that had never made anyone want to be her friend. She had a brain, but no one to share her witty jokes with.

"Well," Principal Strom sighed. He looked worn and tired, and Selene felt bad for the man. He tried so hard to do his job and help kids; but at the end of the day, he was still getting lied to. "I hope that you will report any behavior that is against school policies, especially bullying. We have no tolerance for it here at OHS. Have an excellent day, Miss Linh."

Selene stood from her stiff seat, paying a brief goodbye. She knew that what Pearl and her cohorts were doing was wrong. They were terrible people— monsters even. She hated them all, but some small part of her couldn't tell the Principal; because she couldn't bring herself to believe it had actually happened.

Cress Darnel was supposed to have been her friend. She had been the only person to stand by Selene after Peony's death, but times change. She must have been the one to tell Pearl and her friends her fear of fire.

No, Selene wasn't scared of what Pearl and her cronies would do to her. She was used to pain and heartbreak— but betrayal was something entirely new to her. Selene had never opened up enough to a person to allow such a tragedy, and admitting it would hurt her more than any physical wound.

Selene had lost too much in life, but losing her friend to betrayal was the ultimate tragedy.

***

The buzz of a telephone over one thousand miles away tickled at Kai's ear. It had taken him only a few hours to locate the Linh's phone number and only a few more to figure out what he was going to say. By now, it was nine in the morning.

He had checked everything, making sure that it would all be perfect. The time zones had only an hour difference and it was a Friday morning. No one should yet have left for work. It would all be perfect.

"Hello?" Said a voice from the other end. It sounded young and feminine.

"Hello," Kai said in his chipper voice. He had only slept for an hour and a half, but he felt more awake than ever. "My name is Kaito Crown, and I was hoping to speak with Garan Linh."

Silence followed, and Kai wondered if the girl had hung up on him. "Hello?"

"You can't speak with my father." The girl's voice was angry— defensive. "What kind of sick prank is this?" The girl sounded upset now, and Kai felt bad even though he didn't know what he had done wrong.

"I'm sorry," Kai cut in quickly, before she could call him out for anything else he hadn't done. "Who is this?"

"Pearl Linh." The girl—Pearl— huffed.

"Well, Pearl, like I said, I would like to talk to your father on behalf of his ward, Selene." Kai stated patiently. He couldn't quite understand why Pearl sounded so annoyed at him, or why she wouldn't let him talk to her father. It wasn't as if he were trying to scam them or anything.

An agitated snarl sounded from the other end. The animal-like sound scared Kai into nearly dropping the phone. "What is your problem? Do you like causing people emotional pain, or are you just insensitive?" Kai flinched at her words. He had not expected such a retaliation to such a simple and easy question.

"I-I'm sorry." Kai stuttered the apology, a chink in his armor.  "I don't mean to bring up anything upsetting. It's just that Selene has been in a terrible car accident and has suffered major injuries. I know that she's been estranged from the family, but I thought that you may still want to–"

"We don't want anything to do with that monster." Pearl's voice dripped with malice. She was furious. "Not after everything she did to our family. She took away not one, but two members of this family. She's a menace to society."

Kai felt his breath hitch. He knew that many children in Foster Homes struggled and often rebelled, but this sounded serious. Maybe the girl he had saved was mentally insane, or had done something terrible to this family.

"If you don't mind me asking," Kai said, "What did Selene do to you?" Kai hurriedly explained himself, "I'm the person who pulled her out of the car. I never met her before the accident, and she's been in a medically induced coma for about a week."

Pearl sighed from the other end. She seemed to be more relaxed knowing that Kai was just a random citizen. "I'll tell you what happened only if you promise to leave my mother and I alone. She hates talking about these kinds of things. Her mental state is already terrible and I don't need it getting worse."

"I promise." Kai said, his stomach jittering with butterflies. He almost didn't want to know whatever Pearl was about to tell him, but he couldn't help himself. He was a curious person.

"My dad took Selene in when she was sixteen. He knew what it was like to have bad parents, though he had never been in a Foster Home. He really liked her and decided to adopt her into the family. My mother was against the entire thing, and I agreed with her. The only person besides my father who wanted Selene was my younger sister, Peony. Funnily enough, they're the two who got the worst of it from Selene.

"Peony worshipped Selene. She thought that the sun shone from everything that she did. I despised her. Call it psychic abilities, but I knew that she was a rotten one. I did not expect her to murder my sister, however. I knew she was bad, but I didn't think she was so horrible as to murder a child. My sister was only fourteen.

"There was no proof that Selene did it, but everyone knew. It only took her a less than two months before she realized that no one wanted her anymore, and so she left.

"My parents had mixed emotions about her leaving. My mother was thrilled, and while my dad wasn't too fond of the thing anymore, he still wanted to help. My mom told him not to tell anyone that she'd run away. After all, Selene was almost eighteen. When Social Services found out that she'd run away and my dad hadn't told anyone, they were furious.

"My father was charged with child neglect for not reporting Selene's disappearance and being her legal guardian. He was sentenced to ten years in prison for not wanting to keep a monster in our house anymore.

"I hope that accident hurt Selene, because she ruined my life. My mother is destroyed because of what that fiend did, and left me all alone to pick up the broken pieces of my family. Don't call again." A dull buzz filled Kai's ears, and he knew that he would never speak to Pearl Linh ever again.

***

Kai smeared ketchup onto his french fry, lathering it up until it was fifty-fifty ketchup to fry ratio. He hated eating naked french fries. Thorne, on the other hand barely tapped his three fries into his BBQ sauce. Kai didn't quite understand the sauce choice, but Thorne had something against tomatoes.

"So how did Selene murder the little sister again?" Thorne asked around a mouth of french fries. Kai squirmed at spotting the specks of food in his friend's mouth. He hated when people talked while chewing food.

Kai swallowed his single fry, taking time to answer by swigging his water. "Pearl didn't say. She just said that Selene killed her and then ran away."

Right after Kai's conversation with Pearl, he had called Thorne. The phone call had drained him and set his mind into panic mode. Kai had dished out the entire story to Thorne, who seemed to think of the entire thing as one fat joke.

"Great," Thorne deadpanned, picking up his burger. "You rescued a murderer from death. Maybe she'll kill you next." Thorne tilted his head downward in a teasing way, pointing a fry dramatically at Kai.

Rolling his eyes, Kai began to dip another fry. "The thing is, I have a hard time believing it. I don't just want to condemn her for something another person thought about her. For all we know, maybe Pearl murdered the little sister and used Selene as a cover story."

"Too cliché." Thorne said. "But I do agree with hearing Selene out before judging her. This Pearl character sounds a tad bit biased."

Kai nodded his head absently, biting his lower lip. The phone call with Pearl Linh had upset him more than he thought a phone call could. He didn't want to believe that Selene was a bad person, but something inside him yearned to learn more about the angel.

"I think I want to go to Olympia." Kai said, looking at Thorne to gage his reaction.

Thorne munched on another fry. "You must be getting overconfident with your looks then." Thorne said, his words mushed by food. "Because I'm pretty sure that girl would be more than happy to punch you in your perfect nose."

"I don't mean to visit the Linh's." Kai corrected himself. "I want to talk to the school, or maybe even some friends of Selene." Kai had been thinking about doing this even before his phone call with Pearl. He wanted to understand the person he was now connected to.

"How do you know if she even has friends? The girl sounds like a loner loser to me." Thorne wiped his mouth with a scratchy brown napkin. Kai threw him a glare. "I mean," Thorne continued. "If she doesn't have any friends here after two years of living here, why would she have any up there?"

Kai had never thought about that before. He always assumed that there must have been somebody that cared about Selene, but maybe there wasn't. Perhaps she was more alone than Kai could ever imagine.

"Everybody makes acquaintances in high school whether they like it or not." Kai rubbed his eyes. He may have been energized during his call with Pearl, but getting no sleep the night before was finally wearing on him. He needed a nap.

"Alright then, Mr. Superhero. Fight valiantly, die bravely. Go figure out your girlfriend's backstory. I'll stay here... doing nothing." Thorne sipped on his Coke, pinky up.

"Like you're getting away that easily." Kai smirked. "I need you to look out for Selene while I'm gone."

Thorne choked, spitting brown bubbles onto the tabletop. "No way. Aces and spades, I am not going to watch over your murderer girlfriend. I've sworn off all women, especially those who may want to hurt or kill me." Thorne shook his head adamantly. "You can go to Olympia and do whatever you want, Crown, but I have my own stuff."

"Come on," Kai pleaded, knowing exactly how to win this kind of battle. "I'll only be gone for a day or two, and all you have to do is talk to her for ten minutes. I just don't want her to be alone again."

"I'm pretty sure she's used to it by now." Thorne muttered under his breath, earning a blazing glare from Kai. "But alright, I'll visit her."

Kai grinned at his friend. "Thanks, mate."

"Anything for my lovestruck idiot best friend." Thorne reached across the table, beginning on Kai's fries.

Kai swatted at Thorne's hand, but he had already stolen five of his fries. "I am doing you a favor though," Kai said.

"How so? I thought that I was the one visiting your murdering angel." Thorne guffawed, shoving all five fries in his mouth at once.

"Because, my dear friend," Kai simpered. "I think your lady-charming skills needs some touching up. If anything, you're the loner loser, not Selene." Kai laughed, and Thorne glared.

Thorne stared at Kai's fries, a mischievous grin crossing his features. Kai yawned, stretching out his back and closing his eyes for a split second. By the time he looked back at the table, all of his fries were gone, and Thorne was laughing.

#when earth turns to ashes #wetta #a burning world #kaider fanfiction #tlc fanfiction #marissa meyer #the lunar chronicles #lunar chronicles #tlc au #kaider #linh cinder #prince kai #emperor kai #carswell thorne #linh pearl #linh garan #linh adri #linh peony #selene blackburn #salt warrior stories