Part 3 - Blog Posts

ONLY 2 DAYS LEFT

PLS BRING HIM BACK

Operation: Calling Amane to come back in chapter 100

This… is one little ghost! He always put his own good aside to others that he loves. He is ready to do anything to protect those he loves. He is incredibly awesome.

Cute boy's real identity is Yugi Amane, he took on the role and is now known as Hanako Kun.

He also likes to joke. For me his jokes are amazing and this is the best joke Amane!he is beautiful,cute,good-looking,good-hearted boy and also love to make jokes and he is good with them.

I'm waiting for me more when you come back!

Kuroo Left Side ¾

Bokuto Left Side ¾

Jungkook Bon Voyage Left Side ¾

YOUNG KUVIRA (The Edge p.3)

Part 3 with Phantom's POV and more misunderstandings:

Updating on AO3 as well;

He struggles sometimes, even now. He’d lost himself for a long while – he couldn’t be sure for how long, decades or centuries. Time was weird in the Realms; a minute in one region could be 3 days in another.

But he knew that without his star, without the literal other half of his soul that he’d go into a spiral. A spiral of hate, of despair. He’d be just, but he couldn’t muster the emotions needed to be kind.

And then he’d come back. Phantom had known it was going to happen – had gone straight to Clockwork when his human side had died, and had been reassured that he’d be reborn. That had been the only thing keeping him from going on a spree, taking the Realms with him.

He’d known the instant that Danny had gotten his memories back. He wanted to tear through the realms, tear through countless dimensions to find him, but Clockwork had stayed him.

Told him to wait, to make sure that the timeline could reach the most favourable outcome. He’d wanted to snarl, wanted to say ‘Fuck the timeline’, but one pointed look at the shrunken core of Dan was enough to stymie him.

So he waited. And waited. And waited. It felt like centuries. It felt like days. Time was weird in the Realms.

But they’d reunited, had laughed and cried and talked about what each of them had missed.

It was weird.

Dann – Damian, had been apparently bought up as an assassin? His retelling wasn’t the most coherent, and there were clearly some things he skirted around, but imagining his human side, who’d been bullied and shoved into lockers by Dash Baxter, as a sword wielding assassin was surreal.

He looked mostly the same – lithe, and the impression of wiry muscles under a ridiculous costume. He laughed when he heard that that was a vigilante costume, and that Damian was meant to be working during the night.

He tracked the other changes too - darker skin tone, but piercing green eyes – the exact same shade of his own. Facial structure was different but not too dissimilar to what he'd looked like before. They looked like siblings now, rather than the exact same. He found that he liked it, despite the changes.

He could feel emotions coming back to him; emotions that he had thought had been gone forever. Laughter, sadness, anger. He’d been numb to all emotions except protectiveness, and justice. He could feel a part of him that had been missing filled in, a perpetual ache gone.

Damian had had to leave then, their reunion too short. But he looked more settled, younger even – as though his trek had aged him, and seeing his other half had soothed him.

Desiree had escaped then, trailing into the natural portal that Damian had found. She found herself in that dimension, wreaking havoc and granting wishes everywhere.

Phantom had gone after her, intent on dragging her back. He’d done it too – but not before they’d been noticed, a hoard of heroes after them.

He’d acquiesced to their questioning, even when they had become pointed and rude.

Who was she? What was she? Will she be back? Where did you both come from? What species are you? How did you get here? Are you dangerous?

He answered the bare bones, before a drunken man had come in, blonde hair swept back and a 5 o’clock shadow. One look at him, and he paled, dragging Batman – and really what sort of name was that? – away, before he came back apologising profusely after a whispered conversation.

He heard the zeta tubes announcing people coming up, and then were far more people in the space station than had been before.

He’d seen Dan-Damian, and he smiled, a soft thing that he wiped after seeing other members of this Justice League staring at him.  

Time passed, and he was getting bored. Damian must have seen it because he walked towards him, and they started talking softly about the past few days. They must have deemed him as not too much of a threat, because aside from a few glances their way, everyone went back to their own conversations.

That was – until Damian had laughed at something he said. He laughed loudly, head tilted back, and he saw from the corner of his eyes the shocked looks of his family. It wasn’t obvious, but with what Damian had told him of the family, he could pinpoint it – the widened eyes, the sudden drops of shoulders, the pause in conversations.

He’d seen one of them square his shoulders as though he was volunteering to be shot. He walked over; false smile plastered on and had grilled him, trying to make it look as though he wasn’t.

Red Robin, he called himself. There was a beat where he had contemplated what to say to him, and his eyes had flickered over to Dan-Damian, where they had a conversation in a glance.

Red Robin was smart – the smartest of Damian’s siblings. If there was anyone who had worked out that they were two halves of a soul, it had to be him. He’d come forward, volunteering, so he likely already knew, and was just trying to confirm.

He saw the mask fall, and was delighted by it; it was a subtle sign, but to Phantom, and to Damian, it meant that Red Robin knew and trusted them!

He continued the conversation, and he heard even more hints – RR definitely knew, but was trying to keep it under wraps for now.

He was so happy that he started floating, relaxing slightly as his hair billows out.

Damian gave out another titbit – and Red Robin makes a small noise, to which Damian widens his eyes.  Their little game of hiding true answers beneath normal ones reminded him of politics in the Realms.

And then he messed up, almost calling Damian by a name he no longer had. He’d stopped himself in time, but the speed that Red Robin had looked at Damian said it all – he knew.

So when Damian had gripped his wrist in a gentle grasp, with a furtive glance too quick for Red Robin to notice, he nods slightly; Damian then gives out the biggest clue, enough to have Red Robin confirm his suspicions.

“نصفي الآخر” “My other half”

Phantom sees by the way his mouth falls open slightly that the clue had reached its mark. He congratulates himself, and knows by Damian’s expression that he’s doing the same.

One day in this dimension and his first couple of steps in helping to reveal their bond was already done.

What a job well done!

Dcxdp #22

Danny's human half dying as collateral during a fight. That human half goes into reincarnation and is reborn as Damian Wayne. He isn't born with all of his memories but he definitely feels that something is wrong. they would get their Memories Back at about 8 and have a horrible time dealing with being an assassin. Danny would try to stick to the personality they already had before but there's definitely slip-ups of them being like yeah this is wrong and Talia thinks they take after their father because of it. 

The first thing Danny does when they're not being monitored by their mom or the bat family is to look for Phantom. Phantom to have run away to the ghost Zone and has built a reputation as a merciless ruler. He's a good ruler and he's not a tyrant but  he doesn't have the reputation of kindness. Damien as the moral compass of the duo is really funny to me.

 There's a situation later that involves ghosts which is where Danny/Damian and Phantom meet again. I want there to be a very big misunderstanding that heroes think Phantom is obsessed with Damien but in reality they are literally other halves of a soul. Phantom keeps doing and saying things that no one else would get away with around Damien. Phantom would be saying things like making fun of his height or giving him nicknames but as far as anyone else sees Davian doesn't even flinch.

Danny/Damian and Phantom have lived Separate Lives for a while so they don't automatically fuse into one person. I think they would fuse for a few hours just to feel themselves be one Soul again but they have Separate Lives so they can't stay that way. The bat family is very concerned with Damien continuing to talk to the obsessive ghost that keeps possessing his body.

eren in the new episode was so

Today Jotaro !!!(*･ω･*)

The Beginning part 3

Kaaru jumps out of a window as the bank alarms go off, the alley boy under one arm and a duffle bag of cash under the other. 

“You’ve done it now!” She says, running down the street.

“It was a red button what was I supposed to do?” The boy whines, tears in his eyes as she climbs onto a building and starts to run along the roofs. 

“Not touch it!” She yells, frustrated with the boy. “We can’t have the cops on us!” She adds as she slides down a fire escape and uses the alley way to get back to the hotel, the cops far behind them.

“It’s 2057 it’s not like it was labeled “alarm”.” The boy cries as she throws him onto the bed and stuffs the duffle bag in the closet. 

She huffs and looks at him. He was young and naive. Not the best combination in this day and age. 

“How old are you?” She questions and he looks away from her.

She grabs his arm and yanks him to look at her. 

“How. Old. Are. You?” She growls at him and he whimpers, his tearstained face puffy and red.

“I’m seven with no last name, no family, and no education besides the biblical school the nuns sent me to.” He says, being stubborn and ornery. 

She huffs and looks him over more, his brown eyes staring back at her with a fire of hatred. She lets go of him and folds her arms. He turns away and sniffs, wiping his face sloppily. She sighs and gets a wash cloth and kneels by him.

“I’m going to wash your face, okay?” She says and he frowns at her. “Now don’t give me that. You want to hear the rest of the story right?” She says and he looks up.

“Promise to be gentle?” He asks and she nods.

~storytime~

“What do you mean it had our insignia?” Genji says, dropping his katana.

“She had carved the sigil into the grip of her gun on one side. I didn’t get a good look at the other side.” Hanzo says.

“I need to get a look at it.” He declares and Mccree grabs his forearm. 

“Are you nuts Genji?!” He hisses at him and Genji glares.

“She may be a spy sent to kill us.” He says and Hanzo stands.

“Brother, if you approach her, she might just kill you. I doubt Angela will be able to bring you back again.” He says and Genji nods.

“But we need to see that gun.” Genji states.

“No. What you need is someone gullable and stupid.” Mccree says, looking to Junkrat.

“The australian trash man?” Hanzo asks, folding his arms with a brow quirked.

“He ain’t trash. Just misguided and willin’ to do absolutely anythin’ for a good wad of cash.” Mccree says.

“I question your intel Mccree, but I am willing to try it to get that gun.” Hanzo says before the gun is slid to them from where K-M-S-M sits, her eyes open but half lidded with exhaustion. 

“Save your money. I’d rather commit seppuku than let him touch me. Or my father’s gun. He handmade it for me and carved my family insignias into it. As well as my real name into the bottom of the mag. Taught me how to shoot. If you want your answers, you look at it and ask me questions. I’ll tell you the answers when we’re back at the base.” She says, shifting. “I’m not supposed to even be here.” She mumbles and Hanzo looks at her.

“Are you in trouble, child?” He asks and she looks away, petting her dog. 

“. . . You’ll get your answers at the base.” She says as Toby pants and licks her hand. 

Genji gasps, looking at the gun on the ground, the shimada insignia staring up at him. He picks it up and looks at the gun, tracing the carving. Mccree looks at it too. 

“It looks like my handy work.” He says, confused and Genji rolls his eyes.

“That’s not possible. Unless you’ve been hiding a daughter from us.” Genji says and Mccree shoves him, taking the gun and pulling out a little piece of wood he was carving on the flight to the mission. “Holy shit. They’re identical.” Genji says as he looks between the two carvings of the insignia. 

Mccree turns the gun over in his hand and nearly chokes, staring down at his own deadeye symbol carved into the other side. 

“Shimadas! Mccree! Sit your asses down! We’ll be landing soon!” Soldier 76 yells to them, making them sit down and buckle up. 

“This don’t make a lick ah sense. She’s got my symbol on here too!” Mccree says. 

“She’s not telling us something.” Hanzo says. 

When they land K-M-S-M is the first off and the last to enter the lobby with changed clothes and washed hair, the galaxy static as Toby curls up in her lap. Mccree stares at her, confused and upset he hasn’t gotten answers yet. Hanzo brings in cups of coffee. 

“She’s upset.” Hanzo says, handing his boyfriend his black coffee. 

“No shit. But so am I and I’m gettin’ some goddamn answers.” Mccree says, setting his coffee down; he sat himself down next to her and glares. “I want answers you tye dyed haired bitch.” He says and she sighs. 

“What is my name?” She asks and he looks at her. 

“What?” He spits at her like poison.

“Read the bottom of the mag aloud. Then I will answer whatever questions you have.” She says and he looks at the bottom of it.

“ ‘Belongs to Karru Mizuki Shimada-Mccree’.” He reads and Hanzo chokes on his coffee as they both look at her. “Who the hell are you?” Jesse says and she looks at them with a blank face.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m your daughter.” She says and they back away from her.

~reality~

The boy gasps as Kaaru tucks him into bed. 

“Yeah?” She laughs. “Well that’s enough for today. Good night kid.” She smiles. 

“Jesse.” The boy says. “My name is Jesse.” He says and she smiles. 

“Goodnight Jesse.” She says and turns off the light before going to sleep on the couch.

Part 1    Part 2 

Color this page with me! Drawing Miles Morales from ATSV - FINAL PART!

Color this page with me! Drawing Miles Morales from ATSV - Part 4

Color this page with me! Drawing Miles Morales from ATSV - Part 3

Brazilian Dubbing and Characters who have the same Voice as them in the Brazilian Dub

The Owl House Edition

Part 3

9-Lilith

10-Principal Bump

11-Boscha

12-Darius

13-Vee

Lets go with Part 3 of The Resume of The Beniko Order in The Sith Resurgence!

In part 2, i talked about both Aliana's Grandmother and Mother, but now lets talk about Aliana. How she became what she is in the fic? Well, lets say that Lily have a very different vision on how "Fixing" bad movies should go.

1-The Mother Killer

Last post i told about Tahleea working as a Slave Trafficker to have money and take care of her daughter. According to an old post of Lily, this was because Republic Money dont have value on Outer Rim (Because Prequels said so and somehow it remains the same in Sequels timeline), so she would need Hutt Money for living. But the consequences of doing so made her getting to do extreme things for her daughter. While doing these extreme things, however, she managed to have time to raise and love her daughter. When she noticed Aliana was Force Sensitive, she decided to train her to become a Sith, wich was sucessful because of Aliana being literally born on the Dark Side of The Force, a thing that came from Legends. During this training moment, Tahleea also trained teen Darth Talon, but this is a plot hole that never got fixed.

The moment where everything changed in Aliana's life was in her 14th birthday, where after leaving a job she asked her Mother to train closer to the Core, as they already had visited all worlds of Outer Rim. And because it was her birthday, Tahleea decided to do it. They went to the Corellian System, to train and explore. Ironically in this fic universe, Luke Jedi Academy was working around, and Luke Skywalker felt their presences, deciding to check-in.

And after seeing their Red Lightsabers, he knew they were Sith, so he attacked them without thinking twice.

Luke Skywalker however was not alone. No, he was with his Padawan Ben Solo, wich fought Aliana while Luke fought Tahleea.

The thing now about Luke in this fic is Lily claims Luke is not a good fighter neither a good lightsaber fighter, so Tahleea was better than him at everything, specially because both the fic and the wikia sells Tahleea as being the most powerful Sith Lord in Sequel Era. The fight however was not fair because she noticed that Ben was surprisingly strong for its age and extremely violent, also taller than Aliana, so even if Aliana was a better fighter he got the advantage in this. In fact, Ben was the main reason of Tahleea death because at some point in the fight Tahleea threw her lightsaber towards Ben to stop the fatal blow he was about to give to Aliana, and got herself disarmed and distracted, giving enough time to Luke just behead her swiftly.

After seeing this, Aliana screams in despair and gets hit in the shoulder by Ben lightsaber, falling down in the cliff they were fighting. She wakes up later, seeing that not only Luke took her mother lightsaber but he also burned her body in a cerimonial jedi pyre, leaving the planet afterwards. After seeing this, Aliana swears revenge on the Jedi and Luke Skywalker, and that is the moment according to the fic she gets her Sith Eyes.

2-Wandering 10 Years in the Space

After losing her mother, Aliana found her ship intact and met her family Droid 2V-R8, an Old Republic droid that is not only a 3000 years droid that still works after this long time but he also is the equivalent of Alfred to her.

But also, he is her Great Great Grandparent, as one of the members of the Beniko family, Darth Mecani, actually married him, but he never talked about it to any of them.

Living with 2V made her life after losing her mother slightly easier as Aliana, even being extremely good at anything related to the Sith, The Force and the history of the galaxy, was actually extremely bad at using machines, specially piloting her own ship. 2V did most of the job by taking control of machines around her, while Aliana somehow learned how to use the Force to give a boost to the Ship actual speed and resistance, making everytime she pilots her ship a cheat as she is not actually piloting it but using the Force to move it. But Aliana had to learn it alone.

After Tahleea death, Aliana spent 10 years around the Galaxy, mainly the Outer Rim as the New Republic influence was extremely weak in that region. However she did not hid herself from the galaxy but became a notorious figure to the point everyone knew her as a "Sith more cold blooded than Darth Vader", like Talon once compared her in the fic. Mostly of these 10 years are not revealed by Lily, but she said that she had 2 main Jobs during her lifetime: One being a Guard for the Zitta Bordello, an all female brothel, and the other one is working to her mother old boss Niima the Hutt, not as a slave trader anymore but on a mix of mercenary, smuggler and Bounty Hunter. However, this become a plot hole later mainly because of another part of Aliana life in these 10 years.

The part she becomes a hero somehow.

3-Hero of the Outer Rim... How?

Basically one of the biggest moments in the entire fanfic is when Aliana calls out a giant fleet to help the Resistance, claiming all members of the fleet come from planets she saved from opression and that they all decided to follow her. But not only this scene was made to disown Lando Calrissian from the history it was also made to show that Aliana was "Better at unifying the galaxy than everyone else".

But how she managed to do it?

Its implied in the timeline she made that not only she was by herself most of the time (Considering she got herself 71 booty calls during this said time), the first 4 years of her life were working with the Zitta Bordello and the other 6 years were doing lots of random stuff while working from the hutts. Lets also not forget that in 6 years she managed to become enemy of the hutts and free dozens of planets by herself while self-training and learning all by herself lots of random shit. Also she finished Talon training...

And they fucked at some point too but its ok, its Aliana, right?

Well, the fucking part may have some serious complications, mainly because of another controversy.

The SILK CONTROVERSY

4-Silk or Aliana? tw: Prostitution, Teenage Grooming mention

Silk is a character that its mentioned in the Sith Resurgence wikia, who apparently was a girl from Zitta Bordello known as to be one of the most popular girls who worked on there. But unfortunally, she disappeared, and even when Aliana Empire rose to power, she was unwilling to know about her whereabouts.

This however just wakes up more doubts specially about one thing: Silk disappeared around the same time Aliana entered in the fic timeline. This mistery also grows more in the beginning of "Scent of Engine Oil", a currently deleted and incomplete spin-off of Sith Resurgence made by Lily where in the beginning of the fic Rey recalld People on Zita Bordello calling Aliana by the name Silk, and Aliana avoiding these People by claiming she is not her. Rey dont care about this, as she doesnt wanna pressure Aliana into revealing secrets of her past, and the chapter goes onward. However, we must remember one thing.

Aliana worked in the Zita Bordello as a bouncer around her teen years. And Silk was a very required member of it. As Lily never really specified anything, we can only assume one thing...

Besides being a Bouncer, Aliana was a young sex worker.

That could explain outside of the main fic reasons why Aliana developed Depression and decided to take the drastic decision that would change her life forever.

It all started with the Sun.

5-ALIANA ALMOST THROWS HERSELF IN THE FUCKING SUN.

Around Aliana 24 years, her depression became worse, mixed with some undiagnosed health issues like autism and adhd. And because the New Republic, wich in this fic is represented as a greedy capitalism gouvernment like USA, keeps meds difficult to buy, Aliana is not fine. Her issues keeps getting worse, to the point People around the galaxy knows her as a very evil person, to the point that looking at her in a way she didnt like could cost your life. Besides, Aliana also got bad meetings with other Jedi Beside Luke, because in this fic Luke Jedi Academy managed to generate some Legends Stuff. However, Aliana killed all of them, specially those who she discovered were Jedi and didnt gave them the chance to defend themselves. In fact, at some point before Aliana felt Kylo Ren destroying the Jedi Academy, and she felt delight with it.

However, even the fall of her enemies didnt gave her peace. Aliana literally got Hunted all around the galaxy by People just because she was a Sith. No one likes them. Even though she tries to claim that she is not the same as those who caused all the pain the galaxy suffered, they wont believe her. When she try to claim that the Jedi and the Republic were using their influence to destroy a religion who did not bow to them, they didnt believed. When she tried to call herself a victim for everything that happened to her...

No.

One.

Believed.

Her.

Aliana got tired of it. Tired of everything. So she decided to do a thing: Throw herself and her ship into the sun of Jakku, consequentially destroying not only every single trace of herself but also all knowledge the members of her lineage gathered around the galaxy. However, when Aliana was about to finally get her peace, her ship broke because of a piece. Because of that single piece, Aliana had to land on Jakku.

And thats when the fanfic The Sith Resurgence starts.

And thats part 3. Sorry for being late, my life is a Mess but part 4 will be coming soon with a resume of the main fic

See you soon

okay, BIG BRAWL ATE!!

zara losing sponsorships left and right, kwon now DECEASED. that #keenrykarma came THROUGH!

tory vs iron dragons ate so bad, i’ve absolutely loved her so much this season. she’s amaze.

hair on 10. face card on 10. body on 10. outfits on 10. fights on 10. my girl really did her big one.

the way robby FLUNG zara off tory so quick. he said he don’t play about his!!

and the ‘you’re really gonna choose her over me’ ‘its not even close’ IDK what zara stupid ass was thinking. girl you weren’t even in line, you were never gonna get chosen? stupid delusional bitch.

also zara getting jealous of tory was such a highlight for me. like queen cobra really go you that pressed? LOSER.

‘KISS THIS BITCH’ TORYYYYY TENSSS ACROSS THE BOARD

so ready to see my queen kick ass for the last time in 2025.

slow burn or love at first sight (both)

fake dating or secret dating

enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers

oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence

hurt-comfort or amnesia

fantasy au or modern au

mutual pining or domestic bliss (both)

smut or fluff (I can't choose, so both)

canon-compliant or fix-it

reincarnation or character death

one-shot or multi-chapter

kid fic or road trip fic

arranged marriage or accidental marriage

high school romance or middle aged romance

time travel or isolated together

neighbors or roommates

sci-fi au or magic au

body swap or genderbend

angst or crack (these are so hard ughhhh, both)

apocalyptic or mundane (can't choose 😤)

...

Clumsy Clark Kent, pt. 3

"Lauren Lawrence," Clark said, placing down the folder on the desk in front of Perry White, editor in chief of the Daily Planet. "Our way in," finished Lois Lane. She and Jimmy were standing, arms crossed, just behind Clark in Perry's office.

He smiled. "Impressive," he said. "How'd you do it? And what exactly is she our way into?"

So the three friends recounted the story of how they had arranged to meet on the roof, and the notes and pictures in the file folder. As usual, Perry was not one for patience. Five minutes later, Jimmy Olsen was worrying a keyboard as he waited for the computer to finish- ah- retrieving some footage from Lexcorp grounds. Clark leaned over the desk to watch the progress bar slide slowly towards completion. Lois was pacing a few feet away. Then Clark's hand slipped off the edge of the desk and he banged his head on the corner of the table on his way down. Lois took the time to snort before resuming her pacing.

As Clark got to his feet, Jimmy gave a victorious whoop.

"One hundred percent!" he shouted. "We're in!"

Lois and Clark peered over Jimmy's shoulders to look at the footage.

It was of a lab, with a particle accelerator. Scientists milled about, checking energy levels and measuring charges. Lex Luthor slammed his fist down on a random table and shouted something. The video didn't have any sound, but whatever he'd said, it sent the scientists scurrying. They just managed to make out one word by watching his lips- lawrencium.

"Isn't that, like, really dangerous?" Jimmy asked nervously. "And... currently impossible to synthesize?"

"It is Lex Luthor," Clark said. "Maybe he's figured it out... or at least thinks he has."

On the furthest right side of the periodic table are the noble gases. They have a ring of 8 electrons on the outside. That's what all elements want. The closer they are, the more unstable they are. The ones missing one electron are called halogens. The ones with one too many are called alkali metals. (Don't spend too much time around these) Also, the further down you go in the periodic table, the more radioactive things get. The most radioactive halogen is more radioactive than the most radioactive alkali metal. It's called-you guessed it- lawrencium. Don't stand near it, if they ever do synthesize it. So, with that knowledge, let's continue.

The video showed a woman in a lab coat with cornrow braids getting into a large machine. The trio recognized her as the spokesperson for Lexcorp's scientific department. One lab-coated gentleman pulled a switch, and then there were a few seconds of screaming and... silence. The camera had gone out after that.

"You guys thinking what I'm thinking?" Lois asked.

"We expose that in our first front-page worthy article?" Clark replied, before promptly falling on his face again.

"Sounds good to me," Jimmy finished.

To be continued

Songs To Listen To Right Now, part 3

Heart of Gold-Johnny Cash

Bring It On (2000) background cheerleaders (Part 3)

BONUS, Football Players:

Part 1 Pics: https://www.tumblr.com/scaryspears/756840972701384704/bring-it-on-2000-background-cheerleaders-part?source=share

Part 2 Pics: https://www.tumblr.com/scaryspears/756841686060122112/bring-it-on-2000-background-cheerleaders-part?source=share

Can I try again?

Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

I was rereading poa and got carried away

Old man yaoi

Remus: Sit down.

Sirius: I'm sat.

Sirius: My kink is doing stupid shit and watching Remus speed-run the five stages of grief as he realises that he still wants to fuck me.

twelve years of it, in azkaban.

Every Second Counts - Part 3

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: *Deep breaths* Are you ready? 😉

Word Count: 4.4K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Russell, perilous situations, violence, character death, and another (literal) cliffhanger…

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 3: "Timer Starts Now"

As he drove away from the museum, Colter could see it even more clearly. 

“You like her,” he said, giving his older brother a smile. 

Russell glanced at him, then rolled his eyes. 

“Focus on the road,” he said. 

“Just admit it. You like her,” Colter smirked. “And the fact that she called you for help isn’t a coincidence.”

Russell made a sound of annoyance and shook his head. At this point, he knew Colter wasn’t going to drop the subject.

“All right, we went out on one date,” Russell held up a finger. “It was fun, but we agreed that I’m just not relationship material.”

Colter sobered at that, at the wry tone of his voice. It sounded like Russell liked you even more than he was willing to admit.

“Do you have a timeline on that brewery?” Colter asked.

Russell chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m just a few dollars short on that one.”

He stared out the window for a while, but he eventually turned back to his brother.

“She called me because her brother’s a vet. Because I know what it’s like to deal with the assimilation process, coming back to civilian life. Trying to figure out where you belong, you know?” he said.

“You think you’ve assimilated?” Colter asked.

Russell shrugged. “Best I know how, anyway.”

“You can’t really call yourself a civilian though, can you?” Colter pointed out. 

Russell shot him a look. “Yeah well, neither can you, Colt.”

That created a kind of tension in the car. A call from Bobby, Colter’s analyst, mercifully broke the silence. He’d gotten some useful information on Eddie Mendez, the man Charlie was supposedly working with, or for.

“Well, he’s not the most upstanding citizen,” Bobby said. “He’s a cocaine dealer by trade. Other fun items on his rap sheet include illegal gun possession, theft, and domestic violence.”

“All right, thanks, Bobby,” Colter said.

Great, Russell shook his head. Just what had your brother gotten himself into?

They were getting closer to the bar, and it mentally brought him back to his date with you.

Okay, maybe he did like you. But he also respected and understood your reasons for cutting things short that night. Usually, he was okay with being in a new town every other week, the occasional one-night stands, the skeevy motel rooms and the fast food. It was all with a goal in mind, and that made the hustle easier.

He’d started to wonder though, what it would be like to set down roots somewhere. Doug made it work with his wife and still did his contract work, even if there were some major pros and cons to that too…

Russell was only broken out of his thoughts when he got a call himself, from Dory. He answered it and held the phone to his ear.

“Hey, D. What’s up?” he asked.

“Russell, something’s wrong,” she said. Her voice was panicked.

He frowned, his brows furrowing. “What? What happened?”

The more he listened, the more his eyes widened in shock. He looked to his brother.

“Colter, turn around. Now.”

Russell and Colter arrived back at your house, where Dory was parked out front. She came out of the safety of her car when she saw them. Russell got to her first. He laid a hand on her shoulder in the driveway.

“What happened?” he asked. 

She tearfully explained that she found your purse in the bushes, but your phone was missing. She had just picked up your call when it suddenly cut off. 

“But I heard her scream,” Dory said, with a stifled breath.

Russell’s mood darkened in response, and the longer he took in the scene. He looked over at Colter, who also wore a frown. 

The tracker examined your car and driveway first. Already he found signs of struggle. He noticed a couple pieces of dark glass on the pavement, and when he scrutinized his surroundings further, he picked your broken phone out of the grass. The screen was cracked beyond repair.

Next, he climbed the three short steps of the porch, up to the front door of the house. There were marks on the doorknob, likely scratched by a key. He spotted the Ring Camera next.

Good. He took it right off the wall.  

“Do you have her keys there?” he asked his sister. Dory handed them to him and he let himself in. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

The three of them entered your house and found it dark and empty. Colter switched the lights on and got to work, after going back to grab his laptop from the car.

Russell stayed with his sister on the couch, a supportive hand on her back. He tried to shove his anger and upset deeper below the surface.

Meanwhile, Colter had Bobby retrieve the data from the camera. Within a few minutes, he sent Colter a video file, which Colter then played on his laptop. The three of them watched you approach the door.

Someone with a man’s build grabbed you from behind, wearing dark clothes and a mask that obscured his face. You screamed and tried to fight, but the man dragged you away as you struggled.

Russell’s frown deepened as his body tensed with anger again, his jaw ticking as it clenched. And then came the self-loathing.

Rookie fucking move. Should’ve made sure she got home safe, he thought. Better yet, should’ve kept her with me.

Dory covered her trembling mouth and dissolved into tears. Russell tucked her against his side, rubbing her arm. Colter laid a hand on her shoulder as well, but he continued to analyze the footage. He couldn’t make out the attacker’s face with the mask he was wearing, but Colter saw a blue sedan in the background. It peeled off after you were hauled off-screen.  

“Why would they take her? What the hell is Charlie into?” Dory said. She sniffled and wiped at her face.

“To keep her quiet after she started digging into his disappearance, possibly. Or for leverage against him,” Colter said, leveling her with honesty. “Someone doesn’t want us to find Charlie. I’m betting it’s whoever he’s working for.”

He thought it was safer if he didn’t tell his sister exactly who Charlie’s employer was.  

Dory shook her head in worry. “We need to call the police.”

Colter shared a grim look with his brother. He knew Russell understood the score here. 

“If we get the police involved, it’s at least a 50% chance that whoever has her and Charlie…will kill both of them,” Colter said. Dory sucked in a trembling breath. 

“Our best bet is to keep digging,” Colter said.

“Let’s go,” Russell said, nodding at him. He stood, parting from his sister with a hand squeezing her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Dory asked. She got up to her feet along with her brothers.

“Howley’s. It’s our only lead on Charlie’s employer,” Colter replied. 

“Okay, but wait—” Dory reached out for Russell’s arm. It was a reflex as she tried to wrap her mind around all of this. 

Russell grasped her shoulders gently enough, but he made sure she saw the sense of urgency in his eyes.

“We don’t have time,” he said. “From here on out, every second counts.” 

After a beat, Dory nodded in acceptance. She let go of his jacket. 

“Okay, keep me updated.”

“Will do,” he said, and he swiftly followed Colter out the door.

The brothers drove in silence to the bar. Colter noted his brother’s tension, and the grim set to his jaw. 

“Hey,” Colter said, earning Russell’s attention. Colter gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her. We’ll find both of them.”

Russell exhaled. “Yeah.”  

Oh, he knew he’d find you eventually, and your brother. He just didn’t want to think about how he might find you.

Once they got back to Howley’s, they started by questioning the bartender about Eddie Mendez. 

“He’s not here. But that’s a couple of his friends over there,” the bartender said. He pointed them in the direction of a couple of guys drinking near the back. Three of them were sitting at a table playing cards. 

Russell recognized two of them. One was the same guy who made the mistake of hassling you by the pool table. He’d gotten a bloody nose for his trouble. Russell smirked at the memory. 

“Pete, make a fucking move already,” said one of the guy’s buddies.

Russell caught it as he and Colter approached them. This time, Pete seemed at least somewhat sober, even with his second beer in hand. Another bottle sat empty beside his arm.

“Hey, fellas,” Russell greeted the table. “Little Blackjack, little booze. Looks like a good night you’re having.”

“Do I know you?” Pete asked. His face showed a spark of recognition when he took in Russell. 

“Well, you’re about to. We’re looking for one of your friends, Eddie,” he replied. 

Pete set his beer down on the table. Predictably, he crossed his arms and closed up.

“I don’t know no Eddie.”

Russell resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“I realize it’s hard for you, but don’t be dumb. Eddie Mendez,” he pressed. 

Pete glanced at his friends, then he stood from the table, drawing himself to his full height. He was a bit bigger than Russell, but a beer gut wasn’t everything.  

Russell seized up the man in front of him with an almost lazy grin. By contrast, his eyes were sharp, betraying his true thoughts. 

“Now remember. Whatever you start, I’m gonna damn well finish,” he said. 

That sure ignited Pete’s memory. He seemed to be remembering your smaller fist nearly breaking his nose. His face fell with an angry frown. Russell smirked.

Colter laid a warning hand on his brother’s arm.

“We’re not looking for trouble. We’re just trying to find someone Eddie might know. Charlie,” Colter said. “Do you know him?”

“No, I don’t,” Pete claimed.  

“Like you didn’t know Eddie?” Colter replied, raising a brow. “Where can we find him?”

“Now you are looking for trouble,” Pete spat. “Fuck off, Timberlake.”

Just then, Colter’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and saw a text from Dory, asking for an update. He ignored the message for now and put his phone away.

Hearing a commotion, he quickly looked up in time to realize that Russell had wrangled Pete into a stronghold with his arm behind his back and had slammed him onto the table. Drinks and bottles rattled and spilled; playing cards fell to the floor. Pete’s friends got up with angry, threatening gaits.

“I think you can point us in the right direction before I break this meaty arm of yours. How about that?” Russell said. 

“Hey! No fighting!” the bartender called from the front. “Take that shit outside.”

Colter internally sighed, but he’d have to roll with this, even though this wasn’t how he’d wanted to play it. 

“I wouldn’t test him,” Colter advised. “That’s gonna be a bad break. You got good health insurance, Pete? You’ll probably need surgery, expensive bills, a little physical therapy, a few months of recovery time.”

Pete seemed to weigh Colter’s logic, albeit with an angry huff. He waved off his friends and caught his breath while pinned against the table. 

“I can’t talk to you,” he said. “I’ll get myself killed.”

“I’d worry more about your odds right now, Pete,” Russell said. He tightened his twisted hold on the man’s arm, earning a strangled sound of pain. 

Colter weighed the options here in record time, and he came to a decision. He grasped Russell’s arm firmly.

“Let him go,” he said.  

Russell gave him a look of disbelief. “Colt?”

Colter implored him with his eyes. Trust me.

After a few more seconds, Russell’s lips pursed, but he let the guy go. 

“Ah, fuck,” Pete muttered. After he was able to straighten up, he rubbed his aching arm and shot them both a red-faced glare. 

Colter steered his brother out of the bar before a real fight could break out. He knew it’d become a bloody mess, and they didn’t have time for a night stay in a county jail cell this time.  

“You better have a damn plan,” Russell whispered, as they neared the front doors of the bar.

“You know I do,” Colter replied.

They later sat in his truck while it was still turned off. Just waiting in silence.

A few minutes went by before the back doors of the bar opened to Pete and his gaggle of delinquent friends. As Colter suspected, one of them made a call. It lasted no more than a couple of minutes. Then, they piled into Pete’s car and pulled out of the parking lot.

Colter started up his own car, and he followed them.

You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.

Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement. 

“No…” 

That voice was all too familiar. 

The bag was finally ripped off your head, the edge of it catching in your frizzy hair. You blinked wearily at the florescent lights above, and you wiped at your tears and smudged mascara. Your breath left your lungs when you saw your brother, Charlie. 

He was tied to a chair, shirtless and shoeless, beaten and bloody. Some parts of his skin even looked burned. His jeans remained, at least. But his face was hard to look at. His left eye was swollen, his lip split, his cheek cut and bloody. Both his eyes were red-rimmed, and he was sweaty and dirty, as if they’d been keeping him down here like an animal. He looked thinner too.

He stared back at you in dismay, your name falling from his lips.

You tried to scramble over to him, but someone grabbed you by the hair and yanked you back. You cried out in pain.

“Eddie stop! Don’t hurt her!” he shouted. He drew enough strength to pull at his restraints. Your hands reached back on reflex to grasp at the hand holding your hair. 

“No, you did this,” Eddie said. He clicked the safety off his handgun and pointed the barrel at your head, right between the eyes. You gasped and froze where you sat. 

“You couldn’t make it easy, huh? Well now, I’m making it real simple for you,” he continued. “Even more simple, now that we cut out the middleman.”

Eddie gestured to what looked like a woven potato sack laid behind Charlie’s chair, but really, that was just part of it. As your eyes scanned over, you saw the narrow shoulders of a man with a familiar dark blue blazer. It was stained red with a bloody hole carved through the back. Your breath stilled in your lungs.

Eddie glanced over at you, his lips curving. He walked over to the dead body, turned it over with his boot, and dragged off the potato sack to reveal the lifeless blue eyes of Dr. Feinman.

Your eyes widened.

You let out a blood-curdling scream that startled a pigeon out of the warehouse, from where it had been perching on a high support ledge. You leaned back on your bound hands, but you could go no further as one of Eddie’s men grabbed your shoulder, pinning you on the ground. His annoyed face told you to shut the fuck up.

Charlie grimaced and turned his face from the sight of the body. Both shame and hate filled his eyes when Eddie bent down to face him.

“Tell me where you hid the goddamn weapons,” he demanded.

Your lips trembled as new tears brimmed over and streamed down your cheeks. You’d suspected the truth, but it was different from being faced with the reality. Charlie was the one who stole from the museum. He’d likely been doing a lot worse for the past few months. And somehow, Feinman had gotten in between. He’d also paid the price.

Your brother saw your disappointment, and he accepted it. But lacking an answer, Eddie pistol whipped you in the face, earning a pained cry from you as you fell back onto the ground. You had to blink the stars out of your eyes.

After his shock wore off, Charlie’s face hardened with fury.

“Oh, don’t give me that fucking face,” Eddie said. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, startling another sharp breath from you. “If you don’t tell me what I want to know, what I did to you’ll be child’s play, compared to what I’m gonna do to her. And you’re going to watch.”

Against your will, tears filled your eyes while you stared at your brother. You were terrified, and Charlie knew it. He was scared too, but he also knew then what he had to do.

“I buried them,” he admitted. 

“You buried them?” Eddie repeated. He brushed back his dark hair with the same hand that held his gun. “Ain’t that ironic. All right, where did you bury them?”

“In the national forest, less than an hour out,” Charlie replied. “But you won’t find it without me.” 

Eddie shook his head on a sigh. “Of fucking course.”

He gestured to his men waiting nearby. He wordlessly gave them the order to untie your brother. 

“All right, Charlie. Let’s go for a drive,” he said, and gave you a sleazy smile. “You too, sweetheart.”

He hauled you up onto your feet and kept you close to him, with a hand like a vice around your arm. God, you hated a sweethearting man.

You held your breath. You could only pray that Dory had noticed you were missing…and that Russell and Colter could find you before it was too late.

Please…

It was still dark out, but the sky was beginning to lighten when Colter pulled to the side of the road. The car they followed had stopped in front of a warehouse near an industrial downtown area. Colter spotted the blue sedan from the Ring Camera footage. It was parked out front. 

With a shared nod of understanding, Colter and Russell climbed out of the truck and took the time to arm themselves properly before scoping out the warehouse.

“What does a drug cartel want with museum artifacts?” Russell remarked as they were gearing up. “That’s still not adding up for me.”

“It is odd, but maybe the idea came from Charlie,” Colter said. “He had access. Maybe he saw it as a way to buy their trust.”

“Okay, then what went wrong? Why’d they take her?” Russell replied. “I don’t know, man. Something feels off here.”

Colter nodded in agreement. “We don’t have all the pieces yet.”

But they were about to get them. They moved closer to the warehouse, with Russell heading towards a side door and Colter going around the back. They saw a few men crowded around a TV in the corner of the warehouse. Behind them were crates upon crates of what surely was product. Probably tens of thousands worth of coke.

Jesus, Russell thought. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but still. This was a serious operation.

Colter caught sight of a lone chair under a bright corner of the room. It was stained with sweat and blood, and some cut ropes hung from the seat. He alerted Russell to the scene with a subtle gesture of his raised gun. Russell’s face turned grim. He nodded minimally, then pointed with his eyes at the group of unsuspecting men. The brothers drew in closer.

Russell fired a shot directly into the TV screen, making it crash onto the ground. The men startled like rats, but they soon faced Russell and Colter’s guns. When one of them reached for the gun tucked in their pants, Colter aimed directly at him.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Colter warned. 

“Where’s Charlie?” Russell demanded. “And his sister.”

He aimed his .45 caliber M1911 at their friend Pete, who had Cheeto stains on his shirt. 

“How about you, Pete. You finally wanna share with the class, before I blow your fucking face off?!” Russell shouted. 

The depths of his voice reverberated widely in the warehouse. It set the tone for things to come, if he didn’t get some cooperation.

Pete shifted on his feet, betraying his nerves. His forehead was starting to sweat too. 

“They’re not here,” he admitted. “They left a while ago.”

Russell flexed his finger over the trigger of his gun. 

“Tell me where,” he said.

Eddie wasn’t exactly an outdoorsy kind of guy. He kicked his boot against a tree while leaning against it.

“Fucking rock in my shoe,” he muttered angrily.

He was getting more and more frustrated with the uneven terrain (and the mosquitos) the longer the five of you trekked onwards: including you, Charlie, Eddie, and two of his men, Rick and Kevin. Both of them had guns trained on your back and Charlie’s. 

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said quietly to you.

You shook your head. Disappointment didn’t even begin to cover what you were feeling as you looked at him, but at least they’d given him a shirt to cover his beaten torso. His face wasn't so lucky.

He righted you when you struggled on the gravel and loose dirt in your ankle boots. Your hands were still tied together too.

“What the hell happened to you?” you asked, as you caught your breath. 

“I needed the money,” he said, though he knew it wasn’t an excuse. “I was his bodyguard.”

“He’s a drug dealer,” you snapped. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“He was my dealer,” he admitted, though his gaze was heavy. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, but…a few weeks after I left rehab, I slipped. I never really did quit. Just got better at hiding it.” 

You let out a sharp breath, and tried to blink past your tears. Another disappointment, another heartbreak for the books.

“But when he offered me a job to pay off what I owed, he wanted insurance that I’d stick around. To prove myself,” Charlie explained. “He came up with the idea to rob the museum.”

“Why was Dr. Feinman involved? Did he find out?” you asked.

Charlie nodded with a sigh. “He caught me the first time I tried to steal the artifacts. I…I lied. Told him we planned to sell them. So instead of turning me in, he wanted to be cut into the deal.”

“What? Why?” you said. Your former boss was many things—a stuffy, self-important man chief among them—but you’d never taken him for a thief.

Charlie gave you a wry look. “Owed his second wife up to his eyeballs. Alimony’s a real bitch.”

You shook your head. That explained why Charlie hadn’t yet been a suspect in the theft. Feinman had probably helped cover Charlie’s tracks. But whatever shortcomings Feinman had, he hadn’t deserved to die like that. A shudder went through your body, remembering his lifeless eyes. You breathed out slowly and tried to rid yourself of the nightmarish image. You managed to push past that to ask your next question.

“And who chose the Native American weapons?”

Charlie’s lips pursed. He glanced over his shoulder. “He did. Thought they looked cool.”

Eddie smirked and waved his gun at him, spurring you both onward. Charlie kept walking and turned his attention back to you. 

“The way I figured it, the museum shouldn’t have them anyway.” 

Your lips pursed at that. You sort of saw his point there, however convoluted his justification, but putting those artifacts in the hands of a drug dealer was even worse.

“And this is so much better for them,” you said pointedly. 

“That’s why I couldn’t go through with it. Tried to get out of the whole damn mess,” he said. “I know what you would’ve said to me. And I knew if I ever saw you again, I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes.”

Your tears welled up again, when you saw the sincerity of his gaze.

“Okay, this touching little scene is making my balls itch,” Eddie said. He grabbed Charlie’s shoulder and turned him around. “Where the fuck are we going? If you’re trying to pull something smart here, Charlie, I promise you, you’re gonna regret it.”

He cocked the safety back on his gun and pointed it at Charlie’s chest. Charlie raised slow, placating hands.

“It’s just a little further,” he promised. 

“If you’re giving me the runaround—” Eddie started.

“Then what? Without me, you’ll never find it,” Charlie barked back. 

Eddie’s face tightened, and he pointed the gun at you instead. You sucked in a breath.

Charlie quickly held up his bound hands again in surrender. After a beat of tension, he pointed up when he heard rushing water. 

“Hear that?” he said. “I buried it on a cliff near a waterfall. We’re getting close.”

Another stretch of silence filled the clearing. 

Eddie weighed Charlie’s words. When he was mollified enough, he lowered his gun away from you. At his command, Rick and Kevin kept you and your brother moving. 

Charlie glanced to his right side. He realized that you all were walking near the edge of a steep hill that careened downward. Taking in a breath to center himself, he turned to you.

“I love you, you know that?” he whispered.

Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but you found the look in his eyes suspicious. Like he was saying goodbye. 

That was when he swiftly turned. He snapped the heel of his hand into Kevin's throat and grabbed his gun while he was choking. Charlie shot him in the chest, then he clipped Rick in the shoulder. 

Just as Eddie began to raise his own weapon, Charlie met your look of shock with his own determination. 

He pushed you down the hill.

AN: I know, I know. Two cliffhangers in a row is cruel, but I promise we're getting to even more fun action and cathartic moments in Part 4! 😘

Next Time:

Russell called your name as he searched through the dense trees. Sunlight was beginning to filter through their leaves in dappled color on the trail. It gave him a better view ahead.

He stopped short when he saw a splatter of blood on the ground, painting the dirt and some dead leaves. A well of unease rose in his gut.

He headed toward the sound of running water, and he soon found another cliff. Just beyond it was a waterfall, and river below. Seeing no signs of life, he pulled back and continued to call your name, and all the while, pushing down his worry.

“Russell?!”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4

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Wake Me Up - Part 3

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Get ready for some angsty, but fun attempts at memory jogging. 😅

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 4.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some...mature talk lol. Angst and hurt/comfort, fluff, PTSD, protective Ben, tinge of spice~

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 3: “When You Hold Me”

Those first few days were the hardest ones.

Marie ran out of paid time off, which meant she had to go back to work. That left you alone with Ben during the day.

He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms crossed, and glaring at you after you’d just pushed away the bowl of bland instant oatmeal he’d “made” for you.

“We’re not gonna have this discussion again. You need to fucking eat,” he said. “I could feed you, though I promise you’re not gonna like it.”

His surly, frowning face was annoying you. His deep voice was annoying you. His tall, ridiculous wall-of-man body in your line of vision was annoying you, clothed in the rumpled shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.  

Everything about him annoyed you right now.

But that could also have something to do with the pounding ache in the back of your skull, radiating forward and between your eyes.

“Bro, I’m on like, three kinds of medication,” you replied in weary irritation. “With what appetite do you expect me to eat?”

Bro? His eyebrow twitched. He saw the pain and tiredness written across your face though, and the way you were sitting hunched at the breakfast bar, arms crossed on the counter. He softened a little.

“Look, I get it,” he started to say.

“No, you don’t,” you snapped. Your eyes closed as the pain sharpened. You lifted your hands to either side of your temples. “You don’t know what this feels like.”

You huffed and dropped your hands flat on the counter in frustration. Your eyes opened, and you looked down at the various healing scars littering your arms. You knew there were a few more across your neck and chest, and even your thighs. No matter how you stood, sat, or laid, it was painful to move your body. Even your face still hurt, with the fracture and bruises.

“You’re not the one who looks like Edward Scissorhands had a party,” you said, gesturing at yourself as you glared up at Ben. Emotion began to rise in your throat. “Or for a reference you’ll actually understand, how about this: I’m the Bride of goddamn Frankenstein. A fucking patchwork quilt.”

Ben hardened again, even with the deep pit forming in his stomach.

“That’s enough—”

“And despite what little you, or my mom, Grace, Annie, or even the doctors have told me, I can’t even remember who did this to me or what the hell happened,” you said. Hot tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped at them furiously and turned your face away.

“So no, the indestructible supe doesn’t understand. You literally can’t!” You pushed away from the counter and did your best not to lose your balance when a wave of vertigo hit you.

Ben started toward you, but you held up a hand against him.

“Just leave me the hell alone,” you muttered.

It wasn’t the first time you’d ever said that to him, but somehow, this one cut into him worse than the last.

Over the next several weeks, you did begin to heal from your injuries. Your doctor even noted that you were healing better than she expected. Bruises faded, wounds slowly became scars, some of their stitches removed, and with the right topical medication, a couple of them began to disappear.

The memories remained—at least for Ben. Finding you in that dark, disgusting place, breaking your chains, seeing how thoroughly that piece of shit had worked you over…

It still made him angry at times. He’d broken a couple of mugs, and one near-empty beer bottle. (You’d only caught him once, though he’d given you some bullshit excuse as to why.)

Your memory, on the other hand, still didn’t return.

And you weren’t an easy patient. That episode in the kitchen wasn’t the first, nor was it the last. Often the pain made you crabby and irritable, whenever your medication wore off. The head injury was also causing vast mood swings that Ben could barely keep up with.

It was all he could do to stop himself from snapping back at you at times (and sometimes he failed). He wasn’t exactly Mr. Rogers.

Marie was the only buffer. At least, when she was home. On more than one occasion, she’d had to try and diffuse the tension.

She was working during the day though, which of course, left you with Ben.

You were prone to headaches and dizziness, so he was careful with you, more than he’d ever been. You were starting to notice how he sometimes had to correct himself before he touched you, or forced himself to be deliberately slow when he helped you. 

Your mom had also been doting on you, laying out your clothes, brushing your hair, trying her best to cook for the three of you in the evening. Apparently, she’d been taking lessons, though she still couldn’t cook for shit. Ben often suggested takeout, since he was also no “Betty fucking Crocker,” in his own words.

Still, it was a foreign feeling to be taken care of. It often left you unbalanced, even after your vertigo settled, or your headaches eased.

You considered it while you and Ben were channel surfing together from opposite ends of the couch in the living room. Your mom had just given you a blanket to cover your shoulders, before she went off to water your potted plants on the balcony for you. It was a Saturday, so she had the day off work.

You watched her go with a measure of disbelief.

“Look at Mother Theresa go,” you remarked. “You’d think they replaced my mom with one of the Stepford Wives.”

Ben snorted, because he actually knew the movie you were talking about. You’d forced him to watch it with you a few months ago, mostly to tease him.

“She’s never babied me this much in my life,” you said. “Not even when I was still old enough to be babied.”

Instead of commiserating with you, Ben just sighed, shaking his head a little. He glanced away from the History Channel on the screen to shoot you a glance.

“Maybe you should cut your mom some fucking slack,” he said. “She’s doing a hell of a lot for you. Even more than I am.”

You raised a brow at him. While you had a feeling that wasn’t so easy for him to admit, something about his words annoyed you.

“You clearly don’t know her like I do,” you said.

Your childhood had been no picnic. While you didn’t necessarily blame your mom (anymore) for staying with your father when you were a kid, you had never truly been a child. Your self-imposed job had been to protect your sister’s childhood, and sometimes, your mother too.

Ben gave you a more direct look.

“I know plenty,” he said.

And in his eyes, you saw that he did know something. Perhaps too much. You gathered the throw blanket closer around your body and sank further into your side of the couch.

The last thing you wanted to talk about was your messed up childhood, let alone your father. You couldn’t even remember his death, though Marie told you that you had been there. And so had Ben.

You snuck a look at him while his attention had returned to the TV. He’d settled on Ice Road Truckers. You weren’t impressed.

“Ugh. Can we watch something else?” you asked. “Something funny maybe, like How I Met Your Mother?”

Ben shot you a look. “Sounds like a chick show.”

“Not true! It has universal appeal,” you argued. Slowly you raised yourself from your corner of the couch, grimacing just a bit as it disturbed the delicate equilibrium of your still-fractured skull. It was healing, but that, of course, would take the most time. Your headaches would turn into migraines if you weren’t careful.

Ben knew that full well as he watched you move towards him across the couch. He couldn’t help but reach out a hand to steady you by your arm. You gifted him with a smile and grabbed onto him.

“Please?” you implored.

Ben tried to remain unaffected, but that smile of yours was endearing. Plus, it wasn’t often that you willingly reached out to him, touched him.

“I’ll do you one better,” he said, turning off the TV with the remote. You gave him a curious look. He turned to you with a smile.

“Let’s go for a ride.”

Of course this man would have a Benz, you thought. The car was black and sleek with beige interior, and it was both comfortable and decked out with all the modern bells and whistles.

You wondered if he knew what half of these buttons did as you gazed across the dashboard, but the path of your eyes continued until you settled on the man himself. Ben was casually dressed in a burgundy sweater and dark brown slacks, a silver Rolex on his wrist. He had one hand casually on the wheel and the other resting in his lap.

Part of you itched to take his hand, but you decided against it. You could admit, if only to yourself, that you were warming up to him.

Maybe you even liked him.

You knew you didn’t always make it easy, but he had been as patient and gentle as he could be with you, for a man who clearly wasn’t used to being either for anyone.

Despite his gruff exterior, however, you knew he had to care about you to put up with all this. It made you more willing to trust him…and even more curious about him.

“What’s my favorite color?” you asked.

Ben gave you a furrowed look. “What?”

You crossed your arms over your blouse.

“We’ve supposedly been together for a year,” you reasoned. “You should know what my favorite color is.”

He shook his head in disbelief.

“Come on,” you nudged his arm, trying to get him to smile. You succeeded, just a little.

“I don’t know…blue,” he guessed. Your mouth fell open in shock.

“How do you not know my favorite color’s red?” you said. “That’s the most basic thing ever.”

“What are you, five years old? Who fucking cares?” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I do!” you said. “Well, fine, Mr. Grump. When’s my birthday?”

With another shake of his head, he did correctly answer that question, at least.

“What’s my favorite food?” you asked.

“What’s with the goddamn quiz?” he retorted.

“I’m seeing how well you actually know me,” you countered. “Come on. Impress me.”

Ben slowed to a stop at a busy intersection. He’d been trying to jog your memory by passing certain landmarks he thought you might recognize, like the grocery store you two always shopped at, or the park where you liked to go for walks. So far, you seemed disinterested in the sights and more interested in grilling him.

Despite his longsuffering sigh, he had to wrack his brain in order to come up with something for you.

“The Beatles are your favorite band. Specifically the Abbey Road album,” he said. 

That didn’t exactly answer your earlier question, but…he wasn’t wrong. 

“Okay, you get a point there,” you said.

“And you fucking love Christmas,” he said, somehow with both annoyance and fondness. “Tacky as hell, with the…the ribbons, and the red flowers, and the jingle balls, and whatever the fuck else you can get your hands on. You love that shit. Because when you were a kid, that was the only time of the year your family got any peace.”

You were smiling at his description, but you sobered when he got to that last bit. Ben met your gaze. 

“I know that you’ve had three boyfriends before me,” he said. Then, a smirk grew across his face. “But I’m the only one who’s made you come. Every time. Like a goddamn faucet.”

You gaped as your face grew red with a hot blush. “Excuse me—”

“You claim to like getting taken from behind the best. And you do. You’re all too happy to get bent in half for me. Hair pulling, ass-slapping, the whole sticky nine yards,” he continued, with an even fonder gleam of memory in his eyes. His hands caressed the leather wheel of his car, long fingers flexing.

“But you actually like it better when you can see my face, watch me work. I don’t blame you,” he added, smiling. “I mean, if there was an Oscar for laying it the fuck down, I would’ve taken that shit year after year. Would’ve beat out Burt Reynolds by a fucking landslide.”

You thought you were about to combust, whether from indignation, or straight up embarrassment, you didn’t know. (And you were going to ignore the little tremble of heat between your legs.)

But just as you were about to blow your top, figuratively speaking, Ben’s expression became more serious when his gaze returned to you.

“I know that you’ve had to take care of yourself. And that you’ve been alone all your life,” he said. Then a slight pause, before his attention went back to the road. “That’s something you and I have in common.”

The light turned green. Your anger and embarrassment settled, somewhat, into contemplation. You didn’t know what to make of this man.

He was infuriating, with all kinds of audacity. He was crass, and at times, he grated on your very last nerve.

But somehow, he knew you. He seemed to know the parts of you that you didn’t even want to know.

Sensing your angry gaze on the side of his face, he turned to you with a devil-may-care grin.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Ben, I’m not dressed for this,” you said, leaning in close to whisper to him.

He’d taken you to a nice steakhouse for dinner, on the even more affluent side of town. You still couldn’t believe you’d moved out of New York City to Scarsdale, of all places.

Ben wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you closer, enough for you to feel his body heat.

“You’re just right,” he looked down on you with a teasing wink. It made you blush, despite yourself, with a small smile.

You went with him to a secluded booth in the back, by his request with the hostess. They seemed to know him, so maybe he was a regular. Or more likely, both of you were regulars. This place was only vaguely familiar, but when you saw the menu, you knew you were going to get the salmon.

Ben snorted when you said so.

“Yeah, that’s what you always get,” he said.

He smiled though—at the fact that this little outing was helping you make progress after all.

He didn’t need the menu either. He always ordered the dry-aged porterhouse steak. You couldn’t drink on the medication you were on, but he ordered a glass of bourbon for himself.

When the meal eventually came out, you glanced at his enormous plate with wide eyes. That had to be the biggest damn steak you’d ever seen, along with a huge loaded baked potato and a side of broccoli. You doubted the greens would do all that much for him, nutrition-wise. 

“Whoa. Did they cut up a stegosaurus back there?” you quipped.

Ben chuckled. He’d actually missed your sense of humor, no matter how dumb it was sometimes. He unwrapped the steak knife they gave him from his napkin and started to carve a big piece.

You raised your brows, but shifted your attention to your fish and mashed potatoes. It was delicious. Like melt-in-your-mouth good, and you weren’t sure fish was supposed to be “melty.” No wonder you two liked coming here.

But then, your thoughts were entirely derailed.

Hearing the sound of his knife hitting the plate, carving into the meat—it struck a discordant note in your mind. You looked over, and the sharp, silvery gleam of it caused a vision to flash across your eyes…

Of a blade sliding against your skin, over and over. Along with questions. The same questions being asked of you, over and over.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

“Tell me!” a man demanded. “Give me something.”

He grabbed your face, squeezed your neck until you choked on blood and spit.

“Hey!” a more familiar voice cut through it all. “Come on, sweetheart. Answer me.”

You blinked and caught yourself mid-gasp, staring into the deep green of Ben’s eyes.

Your head was resting on his shoulder, his hand pressed to the side of your cheek, which stung slightly, as if he’d had to try and wake you. His arm was wrapped around your waist in the booth.

He was gentle in sliding your hair away from your face, but his own was hard and almost angry, as his brows were knitted together. His gaze then traveled across the room, and you realized that there were other people in the restaurant now watching you and Ben. Even the servers stopped what they were doing at the sound of his shout.

He gave them all a pointed glare.

“What? Nothing to fucking see here,” he snapped. Most of them were wise enough to turn away, back to their meals and conversation. Ben focused on you as you caught your breath. You were finally able to support yourself, though you stayed leaning on his shoulder. He wasn’t about to let you go either, until he got some answers.

“What the hell happened?” he asked. You frowned at his gruff tone, until you met his eyes. Somehow, you could see that there was worry there.

You glanced down, and you closed your eyes when you saw it. You pressed your face into his arm to steady yourself.

“The uh…the knife,” you whispered. “It made me see something…remember something.”

“What did you remember?” he asked quickly. You sucked in a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.

“Nothing good,” you whispered.

You felt him pause. You heard the shuffle of silverware, a thump on the table. Then his hand came up and cupped your cheek.

“It’s okay. I put it away,” he said.

Tears burned behind your eyelids, and you buried your face harder against his chest. At this point, it wasn’t just about seeing the knife. It was knowing that whatever had happened to you, it had truly been hell. Unlike anything you’d ever been through before.

“You want to go home?” came Ben’s voice, deep and steady in your ear.

You sniffed and nodded, as your tears seeped into the fabric of his sweater. He rubbed your back, holding you more securely.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Unfortunately, the episode at the restaurant led you to a migraine. Ben carried you to the master bedroom and laid you down, helped you undress down to your underwear, and gave you a shirt you liked to sleep in. He turned all the lights off and made sure the curtains were closed tight.

Marie brought you your pain medication with a glass of water. Ben hoped there was enough in your stomach that the pills wouldn’t make you nauseous as well, like they occasionally did.

After you took the meds, you curled up on the bed and closed your eyes tightly, trying not to whimper like a child. You’d dealt with pain before; that was nothing new. But this was getting ridiculous. 

Ben gave Marie a certain look. “I’ve got it from here.”

She gazed at you with sympathetic tears in her eyes, but she nodded and touched his arm.

“If you need anything, just call for me,” she whispered.

Ben nodded, but he closed the door behind her and began by taking off his watch, then his shoes, pants, and sweater. He changed into a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt.

You were too busy hugging your pillow and pressing your face into it. You didn’t realize he was still with you until the bed dipped behind you.

Ben turned you around and gathered you into his arms. You inhaled sharply, but then you clung to him. His chest and middle were warm, a bit unnaturally so.

“You’re hot,” you muttered, splaying a hand against his chest. “Like a radiator.”

Ben quirked a smile. “Yeah, you tend to complain about that.”

You shook your head and pressed yourself closer to him. “Not today.”

He wiped the tears from your cheek and laid a kiss on your forehead. He held you that way for a while, just silence and the sound of your breathing covering the room. Eventually, the pain medication began to kick in, helping to ease your pounding skull.

You pulled back enough to see Ben’s face. He was still awake, but he opened his eyes and met yours in the dim light. You reached up and touched his bearded cheek, hesitantly.

“Why can’t I remember?” you asked, in a broken voice.

Ben’s brows furrowed. He curled his hand around yours and let out a breath.

“I don’t know,” he said, but all he wanted was for this to be over.

“I could take this from you,” he said. “What’s the big fucking deal about a blood transfusion?”

Your fingers stilled against his cheek. Your tearful eyes averted from his, but you weren’t as opposed to the idea as you were before.

“The last time, it healed me?” you asked.

“Within the hour,” he said. His hand tightened a fraction on yours. “It’ll be like it never happened. And your memories could even come back.”

You sighed, briefly closing your eyes. Your hand fell from his cheek, but you nodded.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” you said.

Ben’s frown remained, but at least it was a step in the right direction. He took your chin and slowly tilted your face up to his. You stared up at him with shining eyes. He didn’t like the pain he still saw there, but he did like the way you glanced down at his lips.

He took a chance, and he leaned down to meet you with a kiss. What first was a gentle touch, soon became heady as your hand slid up his arm and into his hair. He brought you flush against him and deepened the kiss, when his tongue swept past your lips and brushed against yours. You welcomed him in with a surprised moan.

He hadn’t tasted you in so damn long, it was like indulging a craving he’d been denying himself. It was even harder to slow down and ease away from your lips.

You rested your forehead against his chest afterward.

“Wow,” you breathed. “Okay.”  

Ben chuckled. But unlike the movies, a kiss didn’t break the spell. You were his, but not completely. 

He wanted nothing more than to show you how much you could be…but your body was still weak. He would have to continue protecting you, even from himself. 

“I want to stay here tonight,” he said. 

Despite his earlier thoughts, he didn’t think he could take one more night of not being with you in this bed. He could control himself. He just wanted to make sure you were all right, and safe with him.

It took you a moment to decide, but you nodded. 

“You can stay,” you agreed, with a more teasing smile. “I don’t think your old man back can handle the couch anymore.”

He snorted in amusement. There was some more of your sense of humor peeking through. 

Meanwhile, you still weren’t totally convinced that him sleeping in the bed with you was a good idea. A good part of you craved his nearness, and how he made you feel safe…but you also weren’t sure if you were ready to continue being so vulnerable with him. 

Just when you were about to put some distance here between you and tell him to stay on his side, Ben rolled you back around so that your back was pressed to his chest. He slid a warm, strong arm around your waist. His lips pressed to your bare shoulder. The sleep shirt you wore (one of his old shirts) had ridden down your arm.

“Just relax,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

And you actually believed it.

You felt comfortable and secure in his embrace. Soon enough, you relaxed into him.

Sleep wasn’t easy, but you got there in time. It even lasted for a while.

Just not long enough.

In your dreams, there were flashes of things that didn’t make sense. They were jumbled together like white noise on a TV, occasionally screeching with color, and mostly red with blood.

You woke up shaking and sweating.

Ben was a light sleeper at best. He was startled awake in confusion, disturbed by how you had been tossing and turning and making sounds of distress. He turned toward you and moved his arm to make room for you, but he decided he would let you come to him this time.

You didn’t disappoint him. You reached for him and buried your face in the crook of his neck for a while, trying to ground yourself in him. He held you and rubbed your back until you calmed down.

When you pulled away slightly, and spoke his name in the dark, Ben looked into your eyes. For a moment, he could’ve sworn you were there. The real you.

“Thanks for staying with me,” you whispered.

Ben was disappointed. This wasn’t you remembering. But at least, this was you being you, thanking a man like him.

He just nodded and guided you back into his arms. You let him hold you for the rest of the night. 

AN: So close, but yet so far. 🥲

But just wait for the last part...

Next Time:

You brushed your fingers over that picture in wonder. You didn’t remember that day, even though you were sure you must have been there…

It was so odd to see so much of your life in pictures, yet it was all still so fuzzy, or entirely blank in your mind.

You paused, blushing once again when you saw the picture of you getting out of the shower with the towel barely wrapped around your body. Why the hell would this be in a photo album?

You quickly moved on. Though you stopped next at a picture of you and Ben in what looked like a dark nightclub. The way he was holding you, looking at you like he was ready to devour you, and the way you were looking up at him, with a smile that said he’d better damn well try…

It made a sharp pain lance behind your eyes.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4 (Finale!)

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