#But instead they get wiped in 2 pages and left behind

[completeoveranalysis]

[6]

COOL YEAH THE ONE THING THIS ABSOLUTELY NEEDED WAS EVIL WOLVERINE POPPING IN TO DESCRIBE THE THINGS THAT JUST HAPPENED 

BECAUSE HE JUST CANT HELP HIMSELF EVEN NOW

THERE IS NO-ONE TO ACTUALLY TALK TO AND NO-ONE TO HEAR HIM BUT HE JUST ABSOLUTELY NEEDS TO BE THE ONE TALKING SO HE SUMS UP WHAT JUST HAPPENED AND ALSO HOW IT HAPPENED AND PLEASE PUT HIM IN A BLENDER THIS IS BAD ENOUGH WITHOUT HIM ADDING NOTHING TO IT

WELL THE GOOD NEWS IS THAT LAVA LAMP STILL HAS A HEAD

THAT’S WHERE THE BAR IS AT THE MOMENT

OH

OH SO WE DON’T GET TO HEAR WHAT HE SAID?

PURE CLAMP-ISM 

EXACTLY WHAT I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED REALLY

ANYWAY ENJOY THIS LINGERING SHOT OF SYAORAN DRAGGING THE UNRESPONSIVE BODY OF LAVA LAMP PAST ALL THE CORPSES AND UP TO EVIL WOLVERINE’S PORTAL

END OF CHAPTER

AT LEAST HE’S EFFICIENT!

[cathnospam]

Love your fics girlll, if your taking requests can I please have a Katsuki x black female who is his secret(?) girlfriend comes to visit him at UA Dan be sfw or nsfw🫶🏾

When I made this page I really didn’t wanna do requests because I like writing self indulgently but this was a very cute idea. So. I’ll make it an exception. Hope you like it. Thank you <3

Warnings: Smut, Mentioning Oral, Breeding(?), Reader is mentioned to have braids and bilingual, Bakugo speaks German, Fluff turned to smut, Established relationship, College UA AU

-

“Where are you?”

“Turn around.”

It’s been a couple years since you and Bakugo became in an exclusive relationship and despite you living in America, and only visiting during the summer you managed to get an intern job at a hero Agency in Japan relatively close to UA.

You swore this relationship wouldn’t work, but Bakugo was oddly persistent in you being his, and it didn’t take long to convince you your relationship would last simply because Bakugo never had eyes for anybody else. So it was either you or nobody.

He would occasionally send you package gifts of Japan snacks you wanted to try, and even sent you a bracelet that can send vibrations of the word “I love/miss you.” On it that you both never take off. It was hard only seeing him for 2 weeks out of an entire year for 3 years but it was worth it when you both graduated from high school.

You and him were mentally counting down the days and seconds when you were finally moving down to Japan for good and seeing your taller, and more muscular blonde boyfriend in his cut sleeved shirt made you squeal.

He looked even sexier from behind and in person.

“You’re choking me, girl.” You can hear a slight playfulness in his voice as he carries you up to hug with one arm. “Finally. Took you long enough.”

“I knoooowwwww. I’m so glad to be back!” You giggle down to land him a small peck on the cheek which left him already boiling in embarrassment.

“Tch.” He mumbled, gently putting you down, patting your ass in the process before taking your bags. “You got your damn gloss on me.”

You fake pity him to wipe off the smeared lip combo you left on his cheek but he dodges your hand.

The ride back to UA was a bit nerve racking for your Blondie. He never told anybody about you, it wasn’t necessarily a secret, but it definitely wasn’t something he just outed to tell people. The only person that was aware of you and met you in his life was his parents and Aizawa mainly because he needed his approval for you to come to his dorm before you head to stay at your hotel.

You on the other hand was excited. Finally get to see some of Japan’s future amazing hero’s . You heard a lot about them through social media and Bakugo.

Upon entering the first person you encounter was Deku walking past and he freezes seeing you.

“I—oh hello! My name is Izuku—-“

“Izuku Midoriya yeah I’ve heard about you.” You grin, Deku immediately getting warm in the cheeks hearing your slight accent as you speak to him in Japanese. you sounded so cute. “Nice to meet you I’m Y/N.”

It didn’t take long until Denki walked in, then Sero, Kiri, Mina, and everybody else swarmed around you. Assuming you were a new student for the college semester, but it annoyed Bakugo seeing how close and interested the guys were getting towards you, and even Mina giving you a few flirtatious compliments he had to clear the air.

“She’s my girlfriend.” He deadpanned. Which left the entire common room to go radio silent.

“Your WHAT?”

Bakugo wasn’t sure if he should blast the room out or just take you to his room and be done with this. But you spoke up for him instead.

“Yes, me and him met a few years ago during high school and—“

“That mission we took overseas?” Shoto asked softly. You nodded.

“So THAT’S why you disappeared so many times—“

“SHUT UP NERD.” Bakugo cut Deku off from possibly yammering aloud what he recalled from that week.

You didn’t go into much detail of your relationship besides how long you both been dating and why you’re here. Eventually a few questions about your hair, you had on Boho Braids and many of the girls were so amazed on how beautiful your skin and hair was.

Eventually the questions began to die down and your boyfriend was getting antsy waiting for you in his room.

It was a blessing and kind of annoying because he took your baggage in his room and freshened it up a bit for you to feel comfortable.

You said your goodnights and goodbyes , hearing a few snickering and giggles from Denki and Sero as Bakugo comes to snatch get you back to his room.

“They were so nice.”

“And a pain in the ass.” He grumbles locking his door.” They didn’t ask you any uncomfortable questions did they? “

“Oh no of course not.” You reassured him before giving him a proper kiss on the lips.

You could feel his mouth curl into a smirk. A very familiar one that you haven’t seen since the first time you both slept together.

And that’s been a whole year.

….

“‘Suuuukkiiii~” You whined into his pillow that smelled like him, which was making you more intoxicated from what he was doing between your legs.

“Gatta be quiet.” His voice rumbled on your clit making your back arch. “Next time we’re fucking in your hotel room.”

……

“Y/N…” He groans in your ear, his arms so tightly wrapped around your waist as you feel every inch of his dick stretch you out more until his pelvis snaps against yours.

All you could hear was the outside chatter of class 1-A and the shallow breaths of you and him being exchanged.

“Ganna fucking cum if I move just wait.”

The smell of your pussy on his breath made you clamp down on him. Swallowing his broken moan into your mouth because he was exactly what you missed. He suckled on your fat bottom lip and kissed your beautiful brown, sweaty skin on your neck as he pushes your braids to the side.

You heard his bed creak as he slowly began to move in and out. He whispers in your ear how many times he’s fucked his hand to the thought of being inside of you again, how much he missed you, how badly he needed you while you were away.

He always got like this when he was inside you, a dirty talking mess.

On occasion Bakugo would breath out words in German, but you couldn’t hear exactly what he said just the accent and that alone drove you insane, because the tired rasp of his natural voice coming out made you melt in his arms.

“Y/N….where…where can I…?”

“Inside, Baby inside. I’m—-I’m on birth control—ah!”

The moment he got your approval he began to pick up the pace, your legs now over his shoulder and your knees touching your own shoulders you officially were feeling all of him and you could not do anything but take whatever he was giving you.

Your throat just aching to let go and moan his name and he knew so he put his hand on your mouth.

“Sssh shhh shhhh N/N…. I know…” Bakugo knew if anybody heard you two that’d be the topic of discussion for WEEKS.

Everybody in his class has had sex, but nobody ever thought whether Bakugo has or not, but after tonight and from the way you just couldn’t shut the fuck up.

They know now how Bakugo gets down. :P

[bytemee]

crying on stream (not clickbait) — yu jimin.

synopsis. you really need to stop playing random horrors at 2 am.

pairing. karina x gn!streamer!reader

warning(s). reader cries at a horror game, emotional support gf karina, this is so silly and sweet, let me know if there's more

words. 639

authors note. 1/2 drafts im posting tn before all the freaky stuff and angst floods my page. this is also based off this tiktok i saw

masterlist. navigation.

you had no idea why you thought playing a horror game at 2 a.m. was a good idea—especially with karina asleep in the next room. but here you were, curled up in your chair, gripping your keyboard like your life depended on it. your chat was loving every second, spamming laughing emojis and "you're so cooked" messages.

then, it happened.

the door behind your character slammed shut. the screen flickered. a deep, guttural noise rumbled through your headphones.

you froze. your breath caught in your throat, hands hovering over the controls, but you could not bring yourself to move.

"no, no, no, no, no..." you whispered, barely making a sound.

username LMAOOO YOU'RE SO DONE username WHY AREN'T YOU MOVING HELLO?? username NAH THIS IS BAD 😂

your fingers twitched over the keys, but before you could even think about getting out—

the screen went completely black.

your headphones crackled. a distorted whisper slithered through the speakers, low and scratchy, like something breathing right into your ear. then, for half a second, the lights in the game flickered back on—

the killer was right behind you.

you slammed the pause button.

your whole body locked up, muscles so tight it felt like you might pass out. chat was going insane, but their messages barely registered.

you couldn't scream. not with karina asleep. you couldn't even let out a proper gasp.

instead, a quiet sob slipped out before you could stop it.

you pressed a hand over your mouth, shoulders shaking as you tried to breathe. tears welled up, but you blinked fast, trying to keep yourself together.

username ARE YOU CRYING BRO?? username NAH THIS GAME REALLY BROKE THEM username this is so sad but funny at the same time 😭😭😭

after a few deep breaths, you forced yourself to unpause.

you needed to get out.

with shaky hands, you turned the lights back on, unlocked the door, and ran. the second you stepped out of that room, you ripped your hands off the keyboard, dropping them into your lap as a deep exhale left you. a few stray tears slipped down your face, and you wiped them away, sniffling.

"oh my god," you muttered, still feeling the adrenaline in your veins.

then—

a tap on your shoulder.

you screamed.

the fear you'd been barely holding in came crashing down all at once. you flinched so hard your chair almost tipped over, another choked sob slipping out as you panicked.

your chat lost their minds.

username HELPPPP username THAT WAS NOT THE GAME?? username DID Y'ALL SEE THEIR SOUL LEAVE THEIR BODY username I THINK THEY JUST DIED IRL

then came the worst part—a soft, familiar laugh.

your head snapped to the side, eyes wide as you saw karina standing there, looking impossibly amused despite being fresh out of sleep. dress in your an oversized hoodie, her hair a little messy, she smiled at you before shaking her head.

"you're so dramatic," she whispered, barely containing her giggles.

you didn't even have the energy to argue. Without thinking, you reached for her, pulling her into a hug off-camera. she easily melted into you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and resting her chin on your head.

username WHO IS THAT???? 😳

username WE CAN SEE THE SHADOW WTF username THE WAY THEY JUST WENT SILENT TO HUG THE AIR LIKE BFFR

karina ran her hand up and down your back, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before whispering, "you okay?"

you nodded against her shoulder. "i hate this game."

she snorted. "then stop playing horror games at night, hm?"

you sniffled. "never."

she sighed, but she didn't let go. for a while, you just stayed there—holding onto her, ignoring chat's growing curiosity, letting your heartbeat finally slow down. eventually, she whispered, "wanna sleep now?"

you exhaled. "yeah."

with a final squeeze, she pulled back and grabbed your hand, and you turned back to your stream, rubbing your eyes before clearing your throat.

"alright, chat," you muttered, voice still wobbly. "i'm ending stream. i need therapy."

the last thing chat saw before you disconnected was your teary eyes, ruffled hair, and hand out of frame, fingers curled like you were holding onto something—someone.

then, you were gone.

[yaut-jaknowit]

In Front of the Clan

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4237

Summary: We'ar-ow decides to speak to her clan about the situation and brings you along. As We'ar-ow speaks, people interrupt and speak falsehoods about the situation. Rumors within the clan always spread around. When the meeting gets a little out of hand, you stand forward.

Author Note: There's only four planned chapters left guys! We're getting closer to the end of this duo.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

A plate of alien food was set before you. The corners of your mouth quirked up in an appreciative smile towards the large pink Yautja. She grunted before sitting down next to you and leaning into your side. Her warm scales pressing into you while We’ar-ow peers over your shoulder to look at the tablet laid open on the counter.

After learning that she has known about your plan for escape, you only use the tablet to play games now. There was no other use for it. We’ar-ow hasn’t even restricted the access to internet or deleted any of the information you’ve saved. Either she trusts you or she knows you can’t escape even if you tried without her knowing.

Before learning We’ar-ow knew, there was a possibility of actually making it off the mothership and homebound. Yet, she has her claws sunk into your skin. You were never going to escape now… nor did you? Did you want to leave?

That got you thinking. If you had the chance to leave, like an open door back home, would you take it? Leave all this behind. The troubles of not getting hunted down by your ex-mate, or the mess of confusing feelings about the massive alien leaned against your side. The fact the only two people you could safely converse with are her and Xilomere. That was a sad thing to think about. Such a lonely life.

Then, there was We’ar-ow. A creature that always demands, always commanding. She takes no shit from anyone. If she wants something done, she’ll do it herself. She’s protected you from the harms Dwainet attempted to bring down on you. The fact he wants you dead. We’ar-ow won’t throw you to him to get rid of her troubles. No, she’s fighting for you.

You glanced over your shoulder to find her orange eyes on you. “What?” you questioned, concerned there was something wrong. The alien chuffed and reached out with her hand towards your face.

Instantly, your first reaction was to jerk away. Instead, you held your ground. Her thumb swiped at the corner of your mouth then wiped whatever was there off on a napkin. You cursed inside of your brain the way that made your body flush. You bowed your head to look back down at the tablet.

A game was pulled up, the dog hunting one. Where you level up your hunting dogs and breed the best ones. So far, after little less than two months have gotten you far in the game. With nothing else but to pass time now, you are stuck it. There are other games you have downloaded but this one is your favorite.

Plus, with the fact you don’t… need to plan an escape anymore, it’s all you can do to pass the time. With We’ar-ow gone during most of the day – despite her attempts to coax you along with her, you have to do something not to go insane now.

We’ar-ow reached out once more and slid the tablet closer to her. You grumbled a noise of disagreement but continued to munch on the food she cooked for you. She did give it to you, nor could you stop her if you tried. From your hunched over spot, you watched as the Yautja tapped away on the device until getting to a page. She turned towards you.

From English to Yautja, the words on the page were returned to their native language. “Hey! What did you do? Now I can’t read it,” you complained and gave her a deadpanned look.

In all of your time around these creatures, you’ve not once learned about their language. The way they spoke it made it seem impossible for you to replicate. You don’t have the proper vocal cords to make such sounds. Seeming some of the words gave you head. Like, how does thirteen words equal a simple ‘how’ or something. Of course, it wasn’t perfectly translated over so it could mean a little different. Yet, still.

“It is time you learned. You are on my ship. I will teach you if you like it or not. At times, I will turn off your translator and test you. Understood?” she explained then tapped the screen. “Find where you can turn it back to English.” Your lips parted at her words.

“But-but I don’t know how to read your language!” you bickered and glared at her. The Yautja’s expression didn’t change. “How do you expect me to navigate through it to get back to English.”

To probably frustrate you more, she patted your cheek with her rough palms. “Sink or swim. This is where you show me what you got. Then, I shall go from there.” You couldn’t believe this! She just changed her soft personality like one-eighty on you. How can you even get to the settings to change it back to normal?! The translator behind your ear only did verbal words than also words on a paper or screen.

“Come on, don’t do this! My puppers need me,” you begged her, not expecting her to let you sink like this. There was no chance you were able to get to the settings and return it to English.

“I have faith in you, little ooman.” We’ar-ow left your side, stealing away the comfort her presence brought you, and stood up from the stool. “I’m going to finish preparing myself for the day. Once, I’m done, I have a meeting with the clan I must attend.”

That caught your attention. You dropped the spork you were using and spun around. This was serious. This must mean she was going to face off with Dwainet.

And instead of hiding here, you needed to be there.

“Can I come with?” you finally asked after three weeks of refusing to leave the safety of your space. Not when Dwainet or one of his goons can come up and snap your neck. The bruises lasted until last week.

We’ar-ow’s eyes lit up for a fraction of second before dipping her head. “Of course. I will warn you. Every eye in this ship will be upon us. I must address the unrest building within the clan and kill it before it becomes a problem,” she warned and hooked her finger under my chin to ensure I keep my gaze on her. “You are free to stay but I promise to keep you protected and safe in and out of this room if you are to join me.”

Your heart began to thunder in your chest at her intimate touch. It was starting to get harder to deny the way your stomach fluttered at gestures like this. The lump in your throat was swallowed down. “This is about me. I’m the center problem. I… I can’t show how afraid I am, can I?” you retorted yet with a soft voice. There was no time to show your fear to the crowd despite how terrified you are in this situation.

One of her upper mandibles quirked up. “You are learning, little one,” she purred and dragged her thumb claw along your fragile lips. You shuttered yet continued to keep eye contact with the large beast before you. “Yes. Now change into something more presenting for a meeting with the clan.”

A deep breath filled your lungs before you slipped off the stool, leaving behind the tablet for a later time. You grabbed your plate and put into the sink then headed into the shared bedroom. We’ar-ow shadowed behind you.

All of the clothes Ruach made for you were hung in the expansive closet before you. Your eyes raked over each strip of clothing, brain mauling over which would be the best for this time. Something grand, something to show you have power despite being a pet in everyone eyes.

Blues, purples, whites, and golds. An array of colors decorated the pieces you chose. Light in fabric, the top of see-through. You didn’t let that bother you as We’ar-ow helped looped strands of golden metal around your neck. Other jewelry decorated your wrists and ankles alike.

Royalty. You looked like royalty.

The bulk of We’ar-ow towered from behind. Each of her hands engulfed your shoulders before one slipped off to wrap securely around your throat. Despite knowing you should be trembling at her hand placement, all you felt was safe. You tilted your head back to find her eyes on you. Her grasp tightened for a fraction of her strength, still not worrying you a bit.

There was a slight pressure pressed onto the spot behind your ear for a moment. The translator. Words of her native language fell from her fangs like water over jagged rocks. Your brows creased, confused on what was spoken to you. The language is completely unfamiliar to you. Since day one, you’ve relied on it to get through everyday life within the Yautjas.

Another small graze over your skin. The translator was back to life. “Hey, what was that for?” you whined with a small pout. Why did she have to force you to do this? That’s what the translator’s for. There was no need to learn Yautja. Maybe the reading part but the speaking, not so much.

The hand shifted so her thumb ran over the scar that marred your skin on the back of your neck. You shuttered at the feeling, head still stretched back. “What did you say?”

A playful glint entered her eyes. “You’ll know once you’re ready,” she spoke ominously. You groaned and leaned against her with the pout still etched into your face.

“You’re not fair. How am I supposed to learn if you won’t teach me what you had just said?” We’ar-ow stepped back to create space for a moment and used her hand on your shoulder to keep you steady. At first, you felt a bit heartbroken she had moved away. Only to slightly tense up when her fangs touched the crook of your exposed shoulder and neck.

Your throat bobbed but you made no move to stop nor to encourage her. A part of you, deep down, wanted for her to take the bite, to latch her teeth onto your fragile skin. You felt them add just the tiniest of pressure to create divots in your skin. Your breath was caught in your throat, unable to move, frozen and at her mercy.

We’ar-ow retracted her head then patted your shoulder. “We must go or else we risk being late. That would not look good on us.” You pulled fresh air back into your weak lungs and dazedly nodded your head.

What was wrong with you?!

Everyone’s eyes were on your forms. The sea of people parted. We’ar-ow stepped forward. No one dared to step in her way, let alone look at their Monarch in the eye. They bowed their heads with respect her. You shadowed at her side, head level and refusing to look at anyone. A steeled expression etched into your face as you refused to shy away from the crowd.

Pet or not, you held a power within the clan. They couldn’t touch you without We’ar-ow baring down on them within the same instant. You gripped that power by the reins tightly as you strutted next to her.

The two of you ascended to her throne. You faltered for a moment, realizing you had to sit on the steps. Heat rushed to your cheeks instantly before you reeled in the embarrassment, ready to find a seat.

Suddenly, your feet left the ground. You squeaked minutely, on the verge of flailing in reaction. When your butt was placed on a warm thigh, you instantly paused your dramatic reaction. For a moment, you stared off blankly, regretting all of your decisions in the moment. Then, you relaxed against We’ar-ow looked down upon the sea of Yautjas crowded at the base of the steps.

The entire room was filled to the brim with the masses spilling out into the hallway. Though, it was heavily overcrowded with faces you couldn’t begin to recognize, you spotted a familiar figure moving through.

Xilomere. Others you learned that were part of the council climbed the steps as well. They stopped short of the last two steps to the throne and spread out. Xilomere and a female Yautja stood the closest, on either side. The alien mentioned by name gave a cheeky wink to you. Heat rushed to your cheeks, knowing the position in her lap wasn’t very professional.

Your hand snaked over to clutch We’ar-ow’s still holding your hips from when she grabbed you. Her other limb was resting on the armrest of her throne. You shifted around to find a comfortable spot to sit in. Which was your back to her chest, one of your legs crossed over the other, head held high. This wasn’t the time to show weakness in front of everyone.

Her fingers widened and allowed for yours to card through them. We’ar-ow trapped your digits between hers, refusing to let you go. This was an action you couldn’t tell was for your support or hers.

Behind you, We’ar-ow leaned in close to your ear. “No matter what happens, I will protect you, my little ooman,” she promised then returned to her original spot. She was attempting to calm your racing thoughts and thundering heart only for them to worsen. It made it seem like she was preparing for a revolution to break out.

We’ar-ow slammed her fist down with an ear shattering roar that echoed after the room fell silent. After a few long seconds to let this sink into everyone, We’ar-ow spoke in voice you’ve deemed to be her Monarch voice. Only used in the presence of her fellow clanmates.

“Many of you know what this about. Rumors spread. I am here to quell this outrage at the source.” Her voice carried out into the room. At first, you tensed your shoulders. Immediately thinking this quelling would include your death once and for all… but We’ar-ow wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t take the easy way out.

“My pet is here to stay despite what that scum decides to try next.” You nearly curl up into her torso at her words, seeking protection. But Dwainet isn’t here to cause chaos. No, he’s locked up. “Number two, if you have an issue with my ruling, either bring it up to me or leave. I don’t need weak Yautjas part of my clan. Only the strongest, only the most skilled are sought after. You don’t have a place amongst the elite.”

“And three, if you don’t see me fit to rule, challenge me. There’s always been a clause to allow any of age to issue a challenge.” Her commanding voice sent chills down your spine. She squeezed your hand tightly. You returned the gesture the best you can.

“How can we trust that you’re strong when your pet is a feeble soft meat?” Someone from the crowd shouted. Others joined into the calls and spitting of harsh words.

“We were blinded by the last Monarch and her horrible rule.” Other agreed with whoever said that. You don’t know who or what happened during the last reign but We’ar-ow wasn’t anything like the sort. She’s a person who deserved to have this position.

Anger fell over your features. With a snarl, you ripped yourself from We’ar-ow hold and lap then stood before her, overlooking the room. Fire sparked to life in your eyes. “I know I haven't been here long, but I have seen the way she rules. A ruler that is strong enough to be gentle and knows when to use her strength,” your voice boomed loudly over the shouting match.

Everyone silenced themselves at first.

“Oh, look at that, the problem only causing more chaos in the mixture,” another voice drawled then scoffed. “I should gut you like the prey you are. Then, you’ll see how weak you truly are, soft meat.” You knew the use of ‘soft meat’ was a terrible insult to humans, but you simply brushed it off. It didn’t hurt to be said to you. Though soft, you could still cause damage.

Due to their words, you instantly knew We’ar-ow was going to step in. But, you had to act fast. “Maybe you’re right. I am weak. I am prey amongst hunters. Yet, here I still stand, with power you could dream of. I sit upon a throne while you grovel at our feet, paying your due respects to a Monarch whose blood, sweat, and tears have been put into this job.”

We’ar-ow stayed seated in her throne, yet eyes watched with rapture.

Then, your eyes drifted over into the direction of the other Yautja who before this one. “You’re right as well. I haven’t been here long. Long enough to know We’ar-ow could put you in your place. All of you in your place. Yet, here she is, choosing a path of peace rather than destruction.”

A new silence filled the tense air. Any eyes willing to meet yours, you glared at. You didn’t care that anyone in this room could kill you at the moment. Right now, this needed to end.

“Do you want discord? Or do you want peace?” you snapped and curled your hands into fists. None of your hits would do damage but it was the thought that counted if anyone dared to step up those steps. Plus, We’ar-ow promised you.

From behind you, We’ar-ow stood up placed her hands on your shoulders. Her thighs pressing into the middle of your back. Knowing that hunter stood at your back, you felt more power fill you instead of terror. She or anyone on this ship may be able to snap your neck, but We’ar-ow would never.

One person started it. They knelt down on one knee, hand splayed out to cover their face, head bowed. Once it began, others followed in their wake. Until all but eleven showed their respect to their Monarch.

Those who refused to bow glared daggers at the two of you. You snarled. Inside of your brain, you’re ready to throw down hands on any of them who didn’t respect the hardship We’ar-ow has endured. We’ar-ow tightened her grip on your shoulders and brought you from your boiling thoughts. You felt the way they twitch, nearly attempting to incircle your throat. Yet, they stayed glued to their spots.

“What paths shall you take? Leave or challenge. I will not tolerate any more disrespect from any of my clan members. I won this place, this title. I will continue to show why I deserve to be here,” she growled and tugged you tightly into her thighs. Her form continuously towering over you.

“We side with Dwainet. We see the flaws that will cause detrimental damage to our clan. You will be our downfall. We will not allow that to happen,” one snapped and stomped his foot down, arms splayed out at his sides in display.

A growled from the pits of hell tumbled from We’ar-ow’s throat. Yet, the Yautja didn’t move from her spot. “Dunkot, detain these foolish younglings,” she demanded a yellowed colored Yautja.

Without hesitation, he began his pathing down the stairs. A short growled fell from him. Others from the crowd moved towards their targets and did what their Monarch ordered them to do. They were escorted out and away. You breathed a sigh of relief and titled your head back to look up at her. Her fingers twitched and ghosted over the column of your throat before returning to their original position.

Her words made you realize. Only those under two hundred years were part of this revolution. Dwainet himself was barely even a hundred years old. They were only stupid young adults playing fire before they even knew it would burn them.

Once they had been hauled out, We’ar-ow gazed out into the crowd. “Does anyone else have something to say to either of us?” she demanded. Everyone stayed bowed but raised their heads to look upon their Monarch again. No one spoke up to voice their concerns again.

“Meeting adjourned.” With that, everyone took their, except Xilomere and the unnamed female Yautja. Though her color was different, her facial features were similar to We’ar-ow in a way that had you unsettled.

Said Yautja spun on her heel and moved along the steps to stand before you. Even at a couple steps down, she still had the same giant form as We’ar-ow. A playful smirk on her fangs. “Such a little thing to cause an uproar, sister. I love the fact you’ve kept them around,” she laughed.

Sister? This is the sister?! Jesus Christ. You don’t know why but you felt the need to impress her in any shape or form.

Xilomere joined the group as well and held out his own fist towards you in a very human fashion. You fulfilled the gesture. “Look at what you did. You’re just as good as We’ar-ow here.” His gaze flickered up to We’ar-ow. “You chose good.” You looked back up at her behind you.

“To be honest, if she wasn’t here, I’d be a shredded mess of meat and shattered bones on the ground right where I stand,” you nervously inputted and leaned more against We’ar-ow’s thighs. Her hands squeezed once more on your shoulders. It was the horrible truth.

He raised a brow and gave you an up and down look. “You are unarmed. Any honorbound Yautja wouldn’t attack you. Prey or not.”

Hidden on the side of your waist band was that knife thar random Yautja gave you a while ago. The fabric that flowed over your shoulders was enough to cover it apparently. “Well,” you drawled then unsheathed the blade carefully. “About that.”

The beautifully crafted blade was shown the group. We’ar-ow bristled behind you then snatched it out of your hand. “Where did you get this?!” she scolded and spun you around to face her. “This isn’t one of mine. Who gave this to you?” You nearly shied away from her due to instinct but held strong.

“A merchant named Wourk. He tried to trick me but I knew better. He gave it to me, free of charge. I needed something to protect myself. I have to show myself as capable without always being seen as this pathetic little creature,” you argued and tried to reach for it but she kept it out of reach. “This issue with Dwainet isn’t resolved. I could be killed by one of his goons.”

She growled and grabbed your throat, pulling you in close as she leaned down to your height. “No you won’t. I told you I would protect you as you are mine. Dwainet nor any of his followers shall lay a digit on you again. This blade will only put you at risk more. You will be seen as huntable prey with it,” she explained then plucked the sheath from your waist band with the hand around your neck.

You spun to look at Xilomere for help. “Help me. Don’t you agree me having a blade would be better than nothing?!” you rallied for him to side with you.

That look on his face told you otherwise. “I agree with her. If you hold a weapon, you are considered worth to be hunted. Without it, you are unhonorable to kill you. She’s just protecting you, ooman,” he resolved. You didn’t dare to turn to the unnamed sister, knowing she too would side with We’ar-ow.

“None of you realize how powerless I feel in this situation,” you growled, hands shaking then glared up at the pink Yautja. “Without you, I would be dead, ten times over. If it wasn’t for you presences alone, many would kill me. I just want to protect myself!”

Your voice carried out into the expansive room. Then, it turned to silence.

Both Xilomere and the sister bowed their heads to look somewhere else as you stared We’ar-ow in the eye.

“Well, I’ve got things to do. See you two later!” Xilomere announced his exit and was swiftly to fast walk down the stairs and out the room. We’ar-ow’s followed after him after giving a wave at the two of you.

Once the door was shut and offered privacy otherwise. Your neck was snatched in firm grasp that didn’t hurt.

“I do not know what it will take to get it through your thick skull. But I will protect you. You are mine to protect. My ooman!” Her fangs roughly clack together then spread wide. “Dwainet will pay for his crimes. He will die by my hand. He will suffer for the trouble of wasting two years of your life.” Her thumb rest upon your pulse point, feeling the way your heart raced.

The words in your throat died. Your chest heaved with each breath as the two of your stared into the other’s eyes. You licked at your lips. Her eyes darted down for a fraction of second during the motion. Long enough for you to notice.

This claim she continues to make felt different this time.

A deep huff dropped your shoulders. “Fine. But can I at least keep the blade? It’s pretty,” you asked, hoping she would let you. Despite the fact it could put you into danger for just having it, you liked it.

Her eyes glanced at it in her hand. “No.” Goddamn her.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

[kabr0ztrousers]

A cat hybrid gets bought taken in by a wealthy but lonely human who decides that they will be good company...something something....they get close and affectionate something something

Kabr0z Writes Episode 96: Maid Service

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: oral sex; some power imbalance; orgasm denial; facesitting;

A/N: Who's ready for a catgirl maid story written by someone who's had only very incidental contact with the tropes? I sure am!

#########################################

You reviewed the dossier as the taxi brought you to the flat. A year contract, paid in advance, staying in residence in a central London flat. The client certainly wasn't shy about throwing cash around. Your contract isn't cheap, and a 2-bed flat in zone 1 certainly isn't either. Hell, he even paid your cab fare on top, just for good measure. Not that he needed to, the flat was a skip and a jump from Charing Cross on the tube. The cab dropped you off beside a door between two retail units. A quick last-minute check of the paperwork and your precise location while the driver unloaded your suitcase, then you pressed the buzzer.

The intercom clicked, and you gave your best pose for the camera "Nya! Neko-chan cleaning services!" Jesus H Christ you hated that part. Sadly this is one of the best-paying gigs going. Not many cleaners can retire by 35 on a six-figure per year pension, that's for sure. All because of the kind of weirdo that just buzzed you into the atrium. The lift was dead-silent even when in motion, accelerating so smoothly you weren't sure you'd moved until the door opened on the third floor. Only two flats on this floor, you knocked on 302 and struck that same pose: knees twisted in, hands up at shoulder height, wrists bent to emulate paws, a slight tilt of the head and that signature wink to seal the deal.

The door opened. The man standing behind it wasn't the kind of sad loser you'd normally see spending their life savings on a couple of weeks with you. He actually looked like he could afford you to start with. He wore tailored dark blue pinstripe suit, accentuating his athletic build. He looked like the guy from any given Hallmark movie. As you stepped into the apartment, you noticed something else. Or rather, you noticed the lack of something. It didn't smell. A usual job would normally start by deep-cleaning the entire property until you didn't need a peppermint-soaked rag tied to your face in order to stop yourself retching. This place was... Fine? Dusty in places, sure, but there wasn't a pile of fetid socks, or a stack of magazines with pages fused together. A catgirl maid service attracts a very specific clientele.

You made your introductions, and dragged your case into your room. His name was Clyde, and he ran a nonprofit of some description. Hell knows how a nonprofit gets you a house within easy walk of St. James's Park, but that's not your circus. Supposedly his work keeps him busy enough he doesn't get chance to clean much or to maintain interpersonal relationships outside of work. So instead, he hired you. Two in one: housekeeper and friend for hire, with all the profit motive that comes with that.

You set to work. Dusting bookshelves and wiping surfaces, cleaning the occasional dish that may have been left on a desk from the evening prior to your arrival. Nothing major. You started to smell a rat. You found him in his office "Hey, was there anywhere in particular you needed me to clear out?"

He didn't look up from his computer, face lit by the pale glow of the spreadsheet he was working on "Not particularly, just keep everything nice and tidy"

What a weirdo.

Weeks passed. You kept the house dusted and tidy, not that there was much to clean. Preparing meals was simple, Clyde wasn't into anything particularly fancy preferring simple filling food. You barely even saw him between hours of 8 in the morning to seven or eight at night when he spent his time in calls or buried in spreadsheets.

One day, a warm summer's day, he approached you while you were brewing him more coffee. You looked up from the scales and smiled at him. This time dressed in his tan 3-piece with his navy tie. "Need anything?" You're so glad he doesn't want you to keep up with the anime catgirl schtick.

"Actually, yes. There's this gala coming up tonight and, well, I don't have a plus one"

Your smile widened "And you need a woman on your arm to keep up appearances?"

He scratched the back of his head as he avoided your gaze "I do. Only problem is I don't have too many close friends outside of work. I don't suppose you'd be amicable?"

"I'll pick out a dress"

The gala was honestly pretty boring. Too many people with plummy accents, too much posturing by people who'd never worked a day in their overly-long lives about who was most generous. At least the wine was good, and you did find where the staff went on their smoke breaks, so you got some gossip on who's secretly sleeping with who's wife. That brightened your day.

Clyde was a lot warmer than usual in the taxi back to his flat. Maybe it was the large donations he'd managed to extract from the other guests, maybe it was the scent of wine on his breath. Either way, he couldn't keep his eyes off you as you rode through the quiet late-night streets.

As you rode the lift, you became acutely aware of how much taller he was than you, almost catching him sneaking glances down your dress. Your tail swished under the fabric as you waited for your floor, following him out and into his flat when the door opened.

You stood at the door to his room. He stared at you with those sky blue eyes, you met his gaze. One of his hands stroked your hair as the other lightly held your hand, scratching gently behind your pointed ear. He kept almost saying something, almost voicing some desire, before stopping himself. You stepped into him, rubbing your head into the crook of his neck as you pushed the door open "Sounds like a lovely idea" you crooned into his ear. Technically you're not meant to sleep with the clients, but as long as no formal complaints get filed there's never a problem.

You pushed him down onto his bed, pulling off his clothes as you went. Your hands traced patterns on his chest and his toned stomach, gently tracing your manicured claws over his skin as you worked your way down. Inch by inch you stroked and kissed his skin as you dropped to your knees, feeling his cock harden under you as you went. You reached his crotch, kissing around the base of his cock as he stroked your hair. Your hand closed around it, gently tapping it against your cheek as you licked and sucked on his balls. He still seemed shy, even as you buried your face under his cock. "Where do you want me?"

He didn't reply, but gently guided you up his shaft to the tip, poising you at his tip, one hand pointing it at your lips. Your mouth opened for him as he gently pushed the tip in before you took over.

His fingernails scratched at your scalp as you worked over the top few inches of his cock, listening to his groaning as you sucked on him. Your hand held the base of his cock, rubbing it in time with the bobbing of your head. You could feel his balls churning in your hand, moving around as his noises became more insistent.

You took your mouth off him, giving a couple of kisses on the shaft and admiring how your lipstick left stain on his skin where you'd got the first couple of inches in your mouth.

His hands on your arms, then your ribs, then waist, he guided you up on top of him, one hand pressing his cock into your already moist cunt.

You rocked your hips slightly, welcoming his cock into you. You gasped a little as you lowered yourself onto him, feeling him fill you up as you bounced on it. Every move drew him deeper into you until your hips met, his tip just kissing your cervix. You stayed there a moment, grinding your hips against his, teasing his cock as his face relaxed into a blissful calm. Then you started again, leaning back to press the tip into your upper wall as you rode it. You could feel it rubbing against your g-spot as you placed a hand over your pubic zone, fingertips teasing your clit as your palm pressed on the slight bulge his cock was making in you. You could feel it coming, just a little more and you'd be there...

Clyde groaned underneath you, his cock pulsing. You could feel him unloading into you as you rode him harder. You groaned with irritation, the rapidly softening cock robbing you of your release as it pumped the last few drops of his cum into you.

You pulled him out, his cock dripping with both of your fluids. Holding him down, you crawled over the man below you. His face was in your cunt now, held there by sharp-clawed hands. Your tail whipped angrily from side to side as you commanded him "Eat. Eat if you want to breathe."

He ate. Tongue licking and slurping at your soaking cunt. He moaned into you, tasting his own cum as he eagerly licked it out of you. You rode his face hard, rubbing your clit on him as his tongue lapped at your folds. You were nearly there again, just a little more. Just a little.

You got it this time. A great yowling orgasm as you sprayed him with your juices. You felt your clenching cunt forcing out his seed back into his mouth with every wave of pleasure that rolled over you. You held him to you, keeping there until he tapped out on your leg before realising what you were doing and letting go.

He gasped under you. Hot breath on your satisfied cunt.

"There's a bonus in it for you if this becomes a regular thing"

Becoming a whore for this rich asshole?

Fuck it. You've been paid less to do worse. "Only if I get to be on top"

#######################################

I'm not sure how well this one turned out, kinda lost faith in it when I turned in last night to try and finish this morning. That's the problem with doing one of these a day, some are bound to miss, and often when you realise it, it's too late to scrap and start over.

[deepdisireslonging]

No Cum November Part 2: Study Session Number 1

Dean is hungry for something only the reader can provide.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings/Promises: misuse of the bunker library, SMUT, oral (both receiving), voyeurism

Word Count: 800

Note: I really need to work on overcoming my “too-many-words” writing habit. Have a long ficlet while I practice. Reactions are always appreciated. Happy reading!

Part 1: The Proposition

When the book landed next to you, you jumped. Dean winced with an apology. “Sorry, Baby. Sam’s found another case.” He frowned. “He won’t let me clean the gear.”

You hid a giggle behind your hand. “Were you pointing the guns at him and saying ‘pew pew,’ again?”

“Maybe.”

“Not the safest thing in the world.”

He slumped into the chair next to you. “All the bullets and clips were on the other table. Safety on and everything. But we’re on research duty until he finishes.”

With a shrug, you scooted your chair closer to him to look over the pages about the next monster. Focused on the text at hand, you didn’t notice Dean’s fidgeting until he slid a hand over your thigh.

“Need something, dear?”

“Yeah. A snack?”

You leaned back in your chair. “Oh?”

Chest heaving, Dean pushed the book to one side and sat you in its place. “Yeah.” His hands slid up and down your thighs. His pupils were lust-blown, and kept flicking between your eyes and looking at your lips. “You’re always good for me, aren’t you? You gonna be able to hold back? Not cum, like we’ve asked?”

“Mhmm.” You tugged him close by the buttons on his flannel. “Dean- “You sighed into the kiss he answered with. He leaned into you, pushing you back and back until you were laid across the table. You arched into his touch. His hands wandered over you body, gripping your hips and pushing open your thighs. He snapped the waistband of your sleep shorts, Sam’s extra boxers. Removing them, he sank to his knees.

As he sucked and licked you to a soaring extasy, you dug your fingers into his hair. It was nothing new for Dean to be insatiable. But now you had the challenge over your head. Every zing and jolt was a pleasurable torment. Dean didn’t take long to make your breathing come out in desperate pants. Your grip tightened as your heartrate thundered in your chest.

“Dean-“

“Hold off for me, sweetheart.” He nipped the inside of your thigh. “I’m almost there.”

As well as he knew you, you also knew that he was about ready to spill his load in his pants without ever feeling you around him. But it was too soon. You weren’t sure you could hold back. So you tugged on his hair, making him whine and pulling him to his feet. You silenced his protest with a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Then it was your turn to sink to your knees.

You didn’t tease. You didn’t toy with him as you usually would. Instead, you mercifully opened up his jeans just enough to get at his cock and swallow it down. His head fell back with a groan. More than anything you wanted to let one of your hands drift down to your sex. Instead, you dug your nails into the denim over his thighs. You scratched your nails down the fabric as your tongue worked over his length. He managed to glanced down at you; watching you watching him. You hollowed your mouth and sucked, making Dean brace himself against the table, turning his knuckles white by gripping the edge. You were just reaching around his ass to pull him closer when his free hand gripped into your hair.

“Baby- I’m-“

His load filled your mouth and throat. Quickly, you swallowed so as not to spill and make a mess. Between your thighs, Dean had already left an unsatisfied mess.

While Dean recovered, you wiped your mouth and stood. He whimpered your name as you nuzzled and kissed under his jaw. “Enjoy your snack?”

“Yeah-“ he replied hoarsely.

With a hum, you kissed Dean deeply, feeling your arousal sink to a simmer. As you laid your head on Dean’s chest, you noticed movement at the door to the map-room. “Hi, Sam. Enjoy the show?”

Leaning against the door frame, Sam shook his head. “I thought I sent you to do research.”

Dean didn’t move more than hugging you closer, uncaring of being caught. “We were, ah- just getting a taste of what might be in store.” It only took a second to tuck himself away. He flipped open the book and spun it towards his brother. “See?”

“Right.” Sam stalked over to the both of you. He reached between your legs, feeling the mess Dean had made of you. “It’s a start.” He sucked his fingers clean, keeping a solid eye contact with you that made you rub your thighs together. “Once you’ve… recovered, you should gather your gear.”

“Where are we going?”

“Pack for a fall semester.”

You smiled and detached yourself from Dean. “I’ll be sure to pack my short plaid skirts.”

“Hey- hey, now…” “A little mercy please-“

You left with a laugh to go pack.

***

Part 3: Good Clean Fun

[storiesofsvu]

Solace in Solitude Ch 2

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, medical/injuries talked about (i googled, don't come for me if they're not 100% right), hurt, minor anxiety, two buttheads not getting along.

You were right, Emily was exhausted. And she was annoyed. Both that she was so tired and that you had been right about it. Not that she expected to be full of energy bounding around the room, she’d just wanted to pull one up on you, prove that you were wrong, that she could and would do better. Instead she’d ended up sleeping most of the rest of the day, her brain still foggy, not fully able to pick up whatever French programs were playing on the television. With her attention lacking, she drifted off more than once, only waking up when a nurse was back in the room prodding at her body again. Her body ached, even just getting out of the bed and making it the eight steps to the bathroom winded her, which of course just made her more tired and even more annoyed.

This whole recovery thing sucked.

At least you weren’t so early on your rounds when you checked in on her today, she was awake, half paying attention to the television, a breakfast tray on the small table at the bedside.

“Morning Valerie.” You greeted with a smile, “how’re you feeling today?”

“Bout the same.” She grumbled.

“Have you managed to get up at all? Even within the room?”

“A couple of times.”

“Good.” You flipped open her chart, checking any additions since you’d left the night prior, “let’s keep that up for a few days and then we can start with trips down the hall, make sure your body’s up to it.”

“I didn’t think you meant it when you said I’d be this tired.”

“Yeah, anaesthesia can be a bitch like that.” You commented, checking a few of her vitals before you eyed the still full tray of breakfast, “not to mention your body needs fuel if it’s going to heal.” You moved back to the foot of the bed, scribbling into her chart, “you need to eat.”

“They’re withholding coffee.” She grumbled, sinking back into the bed.

“And you thought that warranted a hunger strike?” You huffed a laugh, “without a spleen you’re going to need to limit your intake of coffee, among other things. Didn’t a nurse drop off those pamphlets?”

“Yeah.” Her gaze drifted over to the bedside table where they sat untouched, she figured her life was already altered enough she could go another day without knowing every other change she would have to accommodate just to survive.

“Then eat.”

“Would you touch that?” She gestured toward the tray, wincing at the pain in her side as she did and you let out a soft sigh. The tray had a container of applesauce, a banana, a couple pieces of bread, “who eats jello for breakfast?”

“I would if I had just had my spleen and part of my stomach removed and it was advised and instructed by my doctor.” You cocked a brow in her direction as you continued to update her chart, she simply scoffed at you.

A nurse wandered in to check on a couple of things and make sure there was a large fresh bottle of water left on the table. You seamlessly swapped over to French while they were in the room, continuing to check in with Emily about how she was feeling, getting more specific on details and you checked over the stitches on her incision before the nurse finally left.

“Your French is really good.” You commented, readjusting her gown back down and loosely tucking the bedding in before peeling off your gloves, “you speak anything else?”

“I dunno.” She grumbled, rolling to face the window, “am I allowed to talk about that?”

“Ah.” Your lips pursed, holding back a sigh, “well, I’ve got some other patients to see. They can page me if you need anything and I’ll check on you before I leave. And you better have eaten something by then.”

Emily didn’t dare move; she didn’t dare breathe until she was certain the door was shut behind you before she suddenly let out the choke of a breath. Tears welled in her eyes and she couldn’t help as they rolled down her cheeks, not bothering to wipe them away, this didn’t just suck, this was absolutely horrible.

*

She’d barely managed to calm herself down by the next time a nurse came into the room, this time they seemed to be focussed on her breathing and heart rate. Whatever panic soaring through her was being reflected by the machines she’d forgotten she was hooked up to. The nurse talked her down until she felt like she could breathe again and Emily curled up on her side with her back to the door when it was suggested she try to eat something. There was a pit in the deep of her stomach, heavy and lingering, almost creeping through her body with waves of nausea and she was certain that food wouldn’t help with that, no matter what medical professionals said. Reaching out she hit the button to send more pain meds into her IV, the stifled cries and deep breaths sending shooting pains through her side, her hand gingerly clutching where the stitches were, moving to rub softly at the ache in her ribs. She didn’t want to be doing this, didn’t want to be here especially not like this, without someone by her side. The longer she was conscious the more memories she found were coming back to her, she could see the haze of Derek hovering over her as he pleaded for her to hang on. Penelope’s voice strangled with sorrow on the voicemail she’d left. If it hadn’t been for you mentioning a blonde she would’ve thought she was going crazy, that her mind was sending her some kind of guardian angel in the form of JJ while the ambulance sired blared, she could almost feel her hand in hers.

It had already been over three weeks and she couldn’t help but wonder if her team was already beginning to forget her. If she would be nothing but a long lost memory to them by the time she was finally able to get out of here. She caught herself spiraling, wondering if she ever actually would be allowed out of here, if she’d ever get the chance to go home, maybe this was supposed to be home permanently now.

*

You spent the majority of your day switching between the ER and the OR, there had been a couple of call ins of other doctors so you were actually kept relatively busy. A handful of smaller injuries, stitches to be done, tests to run to rule out worse conditions before sending them back home or off to a different specialty, an easy appendectomy to spice up your day with a little bit of surgery. You got outside for your lunch break, thankful to breathe the fresh air without the smell of hospital for an hour, it always helped you relax a little bit more. You’d been thumbing your way through a novel with the intention of getting a chapter or two in over the break but the words were all starting to blend together. After countless amounts of paperwork in French your brain was starting to not want to comprehend it anymore, practically begging to revert back to English. So you let out a soft sigh and closed the book, hopefully your afternoon would involve more cutting than paperwork.

Reluctantly, you returned back inside the hospital, checking through a few charts before you got called off to another surgery, thankful that you could immerse yourself into that and not have to worry about anything else for the next few hours. There were no issues, the patient pulling through perfectly before being sent off to recovery and you headed back to the nurses station to finish up on a few things. You made sure the chart was updated with details from the last surgery and assigned a nurse to keep watch on them overnight in case anything popped up.

The day was winding down and everyone could feel it, the extra excitement buzzing through the air thanks to it being Friday, chatter of weekend plans, date nights, family outings all around you. You were going through your patients charts to see how everyone had faired through the day and if there was anything you’d need to check up on before taking off, adding in notes here and there, signing off that you’d seen them. Across from you a few of the other doctors were wrapping up their own things, asking if the others were doing something that evening. When the resounding answer was no there was an invite for drinks, one that extended to another nurse as they walked up to the desk. Your eyes flitted up briefly but the group was so wound up in each other they barely even glanced your way and you huffed quietly. While everyone here was professional and approachable enough, they’d help out if you had questions or needed something but there was absolutely no interest when it didn’t happen within the four walls of the hospital. You’d been rather friendless for the past three weeks and you highly doubted that was going to change anytime soon.

Emily’s chart was the last one in your pile, the last thing you had to go through before you achieved freedom. Naturally, that became a bigger obstacle than you’d been hoping for. As you read through the updates from her day and checked through things you let out a frustrated groan, letting the chart fall shut before you tossed it back into the rack. Just as you pocketed your phone you heard someone speaking French but this time, actually directed to you.

“Your VIP girl?”

“Yeah.” You grumbled back in the same language, “turns out the ‘p’ is for pain in my ass.” They chuckled,

“Sucks. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Gracing them with a friendly smile and a small wave you turned from the counter, wandering down to Emily’s room. As per usual, the door was shut, thinking maybe killing with kindness would help you gently knocked, waiting a moment before slipping into the space. Emily’s eyes flicked up from the book in her lap, practically glaring you down as the door swung shut behind you.

“Great. What’d you want?” She grumbled, looking back down to the book.

“You to realize that dumping your uneaten breakfast in the bathroom garbage doesn’t go unnoticed by the nurses.”

“Maybe if they weren’t so nosy.”

“Valerie you need to eat.” You let out a quiet sigh, folding your arms onto the table at the foot of her bed, “I know you might not be hungry yet but your body needs nutrients to heal properly, even if it’s just a couple of bites at a time.”

“Whatever.”

“You know, we see this a lot in people who have gone through traumas, that’s part of the reason I pushed for someone to come down from psych today.”

“That was you!?” Her gaze shot up to you, cutting you off instantly as she glared you down, her voice hardening as she spoke, “you sent in the shrink? Why would I need a shrink?! You’re being ridiculous.”

“I get that you’re upset, but you really don’t need to be mad at me about following hospital policy. It’s standard procedure for patients like yourself. At the very least, just let me make sure the paperwork reflects that we’re doing the right thing?”

“Paperwork said he was here, he was here. Believe me.”

“Okay.” You held up your hands in submission, “normally we do wait a week or so depending on everything else but considering the whole food thing I thought it might be worthwhile. Clearly I pushed too soon.”

“Yeah. You did.” She glared, “I’m fine.”

“Well… for what it’s worth I do think it’s a pretty good idea for you to talk to someone.” You stated, readjusting your stance against the table.

“Oh? So what, now you’re gonna shrink me?”

“Not my specialty.” You shrugged, “but if you decide to open up to me then so be it. Otherwise I can put the call in to psych and have someone come down again when you’re ready.”

“You want me to open up? Really?”

“That’s the general idea of talking to a shrink, yeah.” You nodded and her eyes narrowed in your direction, you could see the tension building in her body as she spoke.

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that when I’m supposed to pretend that I died a month ago? You want me to talk to someone about what happened that night but half my medical records are redacted, destroyed or simply don’t exist. When I woke up this morning? I couldn’t even remember the name that was on my hospital band, and you want me to be able to twist up some weird fake stories to help my mental state?!” Her voice shook, the raw emotion starting to break her cool façade, and she took a heavy breath, dropping back into the bed, “you say it was a car accident, it was a car accident.” She held up her hands to signal that that was it, “I clearly had a head injury, I don’t remember the details and I’m not about to do a cognitive interview on myself, okay?”

She picked up the book again but you could tell her eyes weren’t focussing on the words and you could see the shimmering of tears in them, knowing just how frustrated she felt. Emily truly didn’t understand how this was supposed to be helping, she just had to keep shoving everything down until this was all over, she was good at that, she could do that, but not if you kept prying into her life and shattering the illusion that it was going to be okay.

“Well,” you let out a sigh, “then I guess if you’re ever ready to talk, you really are stuck talking to me.” She didn’t reply, keeping her gaze on the book as she did her best to ignore you so you pushed off the table, “if you’re not gonna talk at least do me a favour and eat something. If you haven’t by the next time I see you I’m putting in a feeding tube, understood?”

“Sac a merde.” She muttered and you let out a small laugh.

“I’m fluent, remember?”

“Vai a fotterti.”

“Ah, Italian, now we’re getting creative.” This time she did look up, a glare still on her face as you pulled the door open, “eat your dinner.”

With that last warning you were gone from the room and Emily was left to let out an angry growl, tossing the book onto the bedside table. There was still a pit in her stomach but this one was beginning to gnaw away at her and she was starting to think maybe it was hunger related. She picked up the bottle of water to take a couple of sips, her eyes landing on the brochures one of the nurses had brought by earlier. Maybe if she read through them she’d understand what was going on with her body a little better, maybe it would make this easier.

*

Unlocking the door to your apartment you let out a sigh of relief, kicking off your shoes as you entered the code for the security system. You’d picked up dinner on the way home, you couldn’t be bothered to cook, not now, not with the limited amount of mental energy you had left. You needed a drink. A stiff one.

Keys were dropped on the counter along with your bag and dinner before you disappeared into your bedroom to change out of work clothes. Once you were cozy in a pair of shorts and a tank you padded through the apartment, tidying up a couple of things you’d left out during the busy work mornings. You pulled down a wine glass, filling it higher than usual with merlot, scooping up your phone and food to take out onto the balcony. This was one of your saving graces, the nightly ritual that had been to unwind out in the cooling air, taking in the views of the city as the sun sunk in the sky. It calmed you down after long days at the hospital and you certainly needed it tonight. This entire project had been one you’d been apprehensive of from the start but you’d at least had time to let things sink in, to get used to the new routine in a new place. It had been considerably easier when Emily was still unconscious and you let out a groan at the thought of having to deal with her again in the morning.

A chorus of laughter burst from down in the street below and you felt a wave of melancholy shoot through you, thinking about the others from work out on the town tonight. You understood being on the outside and you understood why you were, but it would be a lie to say that some nights it didn’t get a little lonely. You’d thought that maybe you and Emily would’ve bonded over that, being trapped in a life that you didn’t necessarily want. That you’d be friends, have each other’s backs until this whole thing was over. You took a hefty swig of wine, shaking your head at yourself, at how naïve and ridiculous you’d been. She wasn’t going to be your friend, that was for sure, it was almost like she blamed you for waking up in Paris, like you had personally made the call and lugged her halfway around the world yourself. Your gaze drifted out onto the horizon, watching the last few rays of sunlight dancing through the sky as you let out a small sigh. You’d let her keep playing the victim card a little longer, after all, she did have the reason to be miserable. You knew she’d tire out of it eventually and come around, it would just be a test of willpower to see how long it would take her to cave.

At least you weren’t trapped in a hospital bed. You had some sense of freedom around the city, a freedom she was likely jealous of and that certainly wasn’t helping things. Hopefully things would change once she was discharged.

________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @scorpsik @prentiss-theorem @strongsassysexysloane @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @theclassicgaycousin @regalmilfs4me @kalixxh @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @tommyriddleobsessed @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @iluvsreid @kmc1989

[notxjustxstories]

Workplace... Rivalry?

@smlgbtqweek day 2: lonely/company ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66828994

summary: Minako and Kaia are part of a secret program dedicated to solving crimes by patching into the minds of the deceased. Romance between employees is strictly forbidden, but rules have never stopped them before. ship: Minako Aino/Kaia Luthor (Beryl) wordcount: 1,094 tags/warnings: secret relationship, Stitchers AU

Minako Aino tag | Kaia Luthor tag | Minako/Kaia masterlist

“Like hell she can!”

Minako bit her lips together to hide a grin as her coworker marched up the stairs, still dripping wet from the tank. She looked from Kaia to their boss, watching the older woman sigh in frustration.

“Minako, you know she won’t be able stitch if she shuts out her navigator,” Miko Bando declared. She turned her head to Kaia. “And you cannot shut out everyone who doesn’t work fast enough for you.”

“Why not?” Kaia demanded, suddenly tilting her head and whipping a bit of water from her ponytail onto one of the many computer screens in the lab.

“Hey, watch the tech!” Kaede snapped, running up and wiping the water away. “These aren’t regular computers you can get at Best Buy. If one of them breaks, we could be out of commission for weeks!”

“Good, you can find me a new navigator in that time,” Kaia quipped back.

Miko raised an eyebrow and held out a file towards Kaia. Just as the redhead reached out to grab it, Miko shifted to present the file to Minako instead. “Minako, you’re lead on getting the new navigator caught up,” she declared. “Kaia, give this one a chance; he got a higher score on the screening than any of the old navigators.”

Kaia just rolled her eyes, nearly pouting, and Minako had to hold back a snicker.

Minako held up the file briefly as she threw in, “I’m gonna go study in Conference Three.” She left the group and headed towards the conference room, sitting down to review the new navigator’s profile.

Jason White, age 29, recent transplant from America and an expert in linguistics. At least that explained how he got such a good score on the screener- stitching was basically translating the dead’s memories into reality. Every other navigator had been a programmer.

He’d been fairly popular in high school and college, but as of late he’d been sticking to his employer and home, avoiding going out for drinks after work or engaging in any community events. What changed? Minako wondered.

“So am I gonna break this one, too?”

Minako looked up from her work to see Kaia in jeans and a light grey sweatshirt, hair released from its ponytail to air dry. She closed the door behind her and sat down across from Minako. “Well?”

Minako sighed and flipped over to another page, then turned the file towards Kaia. “Maybe, maybe not,” she replied. “He’s not a programmer.”

“Thank god, one more of them and I was gonna strangle someone.” Kaia looked down at the file. “He’s cute.”

“Careful, I might get jealous.” A smirk sat on Minako’s face as she teased, watching Kaia break out in a smile as well.

“You know no one could ever tear me away from you.” Kaia slowly reached out across the table, seeking Minako’s own hand.

Minako glanced at the glass wall of the conference room, checking to make sure no one was looking before she took Kaia’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m not getting any suspicion off of Miko; are you?”

Kaia shook her head. “I think we’re safe for now; she still thinks we hate each other.” She slowly pulled her hand back. “You’re different here. You act like lonely Venus, the weight of worlds on her shoulders.”

Minako shrugged and averted her eyes. “We’re dealing with murder victims; I’m supposed to be serious. Besides, it’s good to separate who I am at work from who I am at home.”

“Sure it is.” Kaia didn’t sound convinced. She slid her foot forward, rubbing it against Minako’s.

Minako furrowed her eyebrows, giving her girlfriend a worried look. “What exactly did you see in the last stitch?” she asked. “You’re clearly experiencing residual emotion; you’d never risk being this affectionate at HQ.”

Kaia sighed and leaned back, crossing her arms. “Her husband was cheating on her; she tried saving the marriage by being more physical.”

“Poor thing,” Minako mused. She pulled the file back towards her. “Well, we can’t do much about her relationship now, but when we get home I’d be happy to get real physical.”

“Oh?” Kaia asked, sitting up and leaning back in. “When can we leave?”

Minako glanced up to see Miko walking over, and she cleared her throat, straightening her back. “Look, I know you’re a giant misanthrope, but this guy might actually be a good navigator for you.”

“Just because I don’t think everyone is secretly good and selfless doesn’t mean I’m a misanthrope,” Kaia objected, immediately falling back into character as Miko walked in. “I’m here, aren’t I? Helping solve these crimes?”

“Back to your corners, ladies,” Miko sighed. “Isamu went to the victim’s apartment, but her husband wasn’t there. While he tracks him down, I’m cutting you loose. Go get some sleep.”

Kaia let out a dramatic huff and rested back in her chair. “Finally! God, I thought I was gonna fall asleep during the last stitch.”

“Good, then I expect you both to be in at eight am, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

Before Kaia could object, Minako replied, “We’ll be here.” She stood up and closed the file on Jason White, tucking it under her arm. “Come on, roomie.”

The two got up and headed out, making their way back to their own apartment.

——

Once they were settled in bed, Kaia’s head resting on Minako’s breast, the blonde finally asked the question that had been on her mind all evening. “Do I really act like Nanaya at work?”

She heard Kaia’s breath stutter, pulled from the beginning stages of falling asleep. “Is that so bad?” she asked in response.

“Nanaya didn’t notice you were being groomed by Metallia,” Minako replied. “She dismissed your concerns. You must have felt so…”

“Lonely?” Kaia offered. “Seems there was a lot of that going around in our past lives.” She propped herself up on her elbow, looking down into Minako’s eyes. “I knew we would never work out when I fell in love with Nanaya. I knew we were doomed from the start, but I wanted you anyway. Nanaya was loyal, principled, courageous. All the things I fell in love with Minako for. It doesn’t matter that Nanaya was stoic and Minako is easy-going; you’re the same person I fell in love with, and I’d fall for you a million times over.”

Minako smiled, going doe-eyed as her girlfriend spoke. “And you’re still just as loving and authentic as you were back then.” She reached up, cupping Kaia’s face. “We never have to be lonely again.”

[levis-coffeecup]

chapter 28| The Aftermath

WC-4.5k

Summary

The underground is filthy and dark. Dim lights, dull alleys, and desperate hearts. A place Levi knows as well as the back of his hand, and a place he would do anything to get out of.

Chapters of life roll by and with the turn of a page, things drastically change. In front of him is the opportunity to live on the surface. And the flimsy bridge that he has to cross. From an uncivil criminal to a disciplined soldier.

But life on the surface seems tougher amidst all the mockery, civilities, and the gaping hole left in his heart, after the demise of his dear friends Isabel and Farlan.

Content/Warnings

canon- compliant, canon-typical violence, spoilers for No Regrets OVA, descriptions of PTSD, grief, depression, heavy angst and themes, strong language, self-hate, physical assault.

Author’s Note

Hiii guyssss,

This is the last chapter of the storyyy! And I can't wait for you guys to read it! (it's so hard to believe that I've finally completed this)

To everyone who's continued to put up with my erratic updates, I am so so grateful to have you here!! I hope this story was as enjoyable for you to read, as much as I enjoyed writing it!

This chapter takes place after the Rumbling, (aftermath refers to the aftermath of the Rumbling)

I hope you like this chapter as well! And this ending gives you all the feels lol!

Song for this chapter is The Joys And Sorrows Of Life by Johannes Bornlöf

Chapters

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

Masterlist | Playlist | Other Works

JUN 854

The city of Jinae looks different without the walls.

The sun is scorching, and the streets are a blur of the heat waves rising from the cobblestone. And somewhere in the distance, someone argues about the morality of the Rumbling.

Mae is tired, maybe it's the afternoon heat, or maybe it's just the baby in her tummy that has made her womb so big. She drags her feet through the alleys of the market, wiping the sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand.

The produce looks fresh, excellent for the apple pie she's planning to make.

Raz trails behind her too, with a pained look on her face. She rests her hands on her knees, taking a moment to catch her breath. "Mae...You need to be at home resting... Instead of wandering in this horrible heat for a pie you want to make."

Mae halts for a minute, throwing a wistful look ahead at what's left of her lover. "But I want to make something for Levi... Don't you see how miserable he looks? He's not even spoken a word to me since he's come back from his mission."

And Raz presses her lips into a thin line, silencing her frustration.

"You know, the smell of my pies always made him happy. He would always take an extra slice when I wasn't looking." A warm smile crawls on Mae's face, and she remembers all the good times spent over pies and tea.

Her gaze falls down at the growing swell of her stomach. It's huge now, so huge that she can't see her toes when she looks down. And a cheeky grin spreads on her face.

She can't wait to make pies for both him and their child.

"Mae please," Raz sighs, tears well up in her eyes, and she increases her pace and catches up to her. "It's painful to watch you like this."

"Don't worry about me Raz," She beams with pride. "I'll be patient with him, I've always been patient with him."

What stands in front of her, is a ghost of what Levi used to be. His face is gaunt and pallid, and his sunken eyes are filled with emptiness. And yet she smiles back at him, patient and faithful.

The love in her eyes never fades, no matter what condition Levi might be in.

A couple meters away from her is an old lady sitting with baskets of apples. "Don't these apples look wonderful!" She exclaims, hoping to pull a reaction out of Levi.

The old lady smiles. "They are very juicy and crunchy, the best batch we've got in months."

"Ahh!" Mae exclaims. "It would make an amazing pie filling then, am I right?" She looks at him again, but no matter what she does, the lifelessness in his gaze never changes. And his mouth still remains pressed in a grim line, devoid of any hint of a smile.

Her patience runs thins, and her pregnancy hormones catch the best of her,

"You know it's rude not to reply back, DON'T YOU?" She yells, agitated. She's dripping in sweat, carrying her 6 month pregnant belly, and he can't even acknowledge her presence.

The people around her turn, caught off guard by her sudden outburst.

And Raz pinches the bridge of her nose. "MAE STOP IT!."... She scolds, as she grabs her wrist, and drags her towards the end of the market.

The walk is short and soon the scenery changes. The liveliness of the market drifts into the haunting silence of a cemetery.

And Raz pulls Mae through the hundreds of headstones planted over the grass, until she finds the one of the Lance Corporal. She knows the route like the back of her hand now.

The Lavender flowers they kept on his grave 2 days ago have wilted.

And Mae shudders as she steps closer to it. All her illusions shatter and she's held hostage to the cruelty of the world once again.

"N-No Raz," her voice crumbles, and she takes a step back, nodding her head in denial. " H-he was s-supposed to come back after the w-war."

The silence is haunting. And Mae recalls seeing this scene a million times before, in the dreams that would terrorize her sleep.

"I-its a bad dream... it's just a bad dream." she croaks, almost tripping on another gravestone behind her.

And she waits for Levi's arms to pull her out of this never ending nightmare. She waits to feel his tight embrace.

But there's only silence.

"He wouldn't have left me alone." The disbelief in her voice is palpable.

This is the reality of war. Some are lost, some are sacrificed, and some survive.

But rarely, do they remain whole enough to thrive.

"Enough of this foolishness Mae," Raz snaps.

It's the same routine everyday. With Mae pretending that Levi is next to her and alive, and Raz dragging her to his grave until she breaks down over and over again.

Her fingers latch onto Mae's wrist and she pulls her away. "It's been 2 weeks, and y- you need to take better care of your child.... come home with me right now."

But Mae stands paralyzed,overrun by the possibility of what could have been.

Her mind drowns in dissonance, and her heart outrightly rejects the thought of him leaving.

They were supposed to have two kids. They were supposed to open his tea shop as well. There were dreams she had nurtured with so much patience.

So how did they wilt before they got the chance to bloom?

And how did the plans she held so close to her heart become unattainable?

She feels numb. And she hides her voice in a broken whisper. " H-he can't leave me Raz... I-I gave him everything I could... A-all my love... All my e-energy a-and time."

Far away on the ground, lies a crumbled newspaper.

'Humanity's Strongest shattered to pieces due to a thunder spear explosion' it says. And just below the heading is an illustration of him, bleeding on the grass with scars on his face, and 2 fingers amputated.

The earth trembles. The lavenders grieve beneath their violet blooms. And the roses quiver by the tombs, lamenting the departed who rest beneath the hush of the graveyard.

"Fine then," Raz resigns, as she starts walking away ."If you're gonna keep being such a wreck then go be it. Come back to me when some sense has been knocked into your skull."

And Mae turns to the stone that is left of her lover. The moment draws, there's silence, loss and an unfinished promise.

Its gray falls dull compared to his eyes.

And then she breaks. Falling to her knees on the grass.

Grief leaks from her so violently, it frays her voice.

She sobs like a child who's lost in the dark. And his name falls from her lips like a dying wish. She whispers it over and over, as if saying it enough could bring him back.

Her ears crave to hear his voice. But there's nothing.

Languidly her arms drape around his stone. But the stone is cold. And Levi Ackerman is gone

A shining star in the colossal sky. So beautiful, so unattainable.

And just like she'd told him that day, he ran too fast. He left her behind.

When she opens her eyes again, there's rage in them. She wants to scream. She wants to hurt all over her body like it does deep inside her heart.

"You didn't come back to me, Levi," Her bitterness burns her into the edge of destruction and she punches his stone, until it makes her knuckles bleed. "How dare you break my heart like this?"

The wind turns cold, and darkness envelopes.

The grass is lush, and below that is Levi.

With no more loyalties, promises and responsibilities.

For years she loved the remnants of him. What was left of him after the Survey Corps took his best.

There were tales he didn't pay attention to. There were letters he didn't respond to. And she waited for years, hoping that one day he would come back with his duties behind him.

But the war consumed him before she ever could.

She didn't even get to see his body, before he got buried underground.

"I was saving all along to buy you your tea shop," Her voice shatters... "I almost had the entire amount." She traces over the carving of his name on his stone.

The walls are gone, and the world is at peace, but there's chaos in her life. And peace shall never touch her, not when the pain of losing her lover drags her into hell.

"What sins am I being punished for?" She weeps. Damned, absolved, condemned by her love. "Why am I always the one being left behind?"

The petals of the Lavenders she kept, fly off with the wind. The cold claws at her skin.

The road back is long and home is nowhere to be found.

And Mae lays down on his grave, with the harrowing void in her heart. Hoping the god of death blesses her with a visit soon, just like he did to her lover.

_______________________

The Survey Corps headquarters stand long forgotten.

The bricks, once a vibrant red, have faded to a muted rust, some crumbling and others overtaken by ivy and moss. The windows are translucent now, their glass fogged with grime, and dust.

The sun is long gone, and the headquarters look ghastly. But Mae doesn't want to go back to Raz, not when the sight of her and her husband living happily burns holes through her heart.

It takes her all of her strength to open the heavy door. The handles are rusted, and a cloud of dust welcomes her as she manages to push it open.

The interior of the headquarters is doused in darkness.

The fire from the torches is long blown off. The air is thick with the scent of decay and there's dust everywhere.

These hallways that were once vibrant with laughter and activity, are now soulless. Everyone's gone and an eerie silence has taken their place.

Levi would have hated seeing things this way.

Soon she reaches the gate of his quarters, and her heart shudders as she pushes it open.

The darkness is overwhelming, but she walks into it nonetheless. Just like the cemetery, grief awaits her here too,

All the time she's spent in these quarters makes them familiar. And even through the darkness she manages to walk to Levi's desk and pull a candle out from the first drawer.

The room comes alive with the flickering light of the candle. AndMae's eyes rove around, vision blurred with tears.

The ghost of his love haunts the bedroom, ever present in the bed that they made love in, and the couch where countless minutes were spent in silence.

It's a bitter reminder of how much she has lost.

And she wants to trash this place around.

His promise to save the world, ended up destroying hers.

And now she doesn't know how to live anymore.

Her grief comes crashing down on her, all over again. And Mae sulks, close to regretting her decision to be with him years back.

His room is exactly as she remembers, with a single bed under the window, and a small wooden cupboard on the opposite end.

And as she walks closer to it, her attention is caught by the fabric of his shirt that is pinched between the doors of his cupboard. He must have left in a rush.

She walks towards it, to shut it close. But as she opens the doors, a pile of his clothes falls to the floor.

He must have really left in a hurry, unless someone came in and snooped into his room.

It's a bit of a struggle to bend down, with her pregnant belly. But Levi hates messes and so she sits amidst the clutter of his clothes. Folding them in the same meticulous way he did it.

And that's when she notices the big cardboard box far at the back, kept at the bottom shelf.

It's probably all his belongings or a dump of his paperwork, but she pulls it out nevertheless, hoping to find anything that could give her closure.

The box is heavy and she puts it down on the floor.

The first thing she sees are all the letters she's ever written to him. Stacked in a tidy pile, in one corner.

Her breath catches in her throat. And the more she sifts through the box, the more she realizes that everything inside is just about her.

There's an empty box of a premium tea she got him for her birthday, and there's containers of all the spices she would get to make his food at the Survey Corps less bland.

There are books that she would read to him, and even a tag of a pair of socks she got him for the winters.

Her hands start to tremble.

Levi has preserved everything she's ever given him. Even the dried petals of the flowers she would gift him on his birthdays are neatly kept in an envelope.

Time slows down- and every moment is like a stab through her heart. Their entire journey as lovers passes through her eyes in a painful flash.

And she remembers being beyond the moon when she heard about the successful mission in Marley. Levi was alive, and he'd come back valiant.

She couldn't wait to see him again.

But then he wrote her a letter saying that Sasha was dead and to keep her distance, since Zeke was around.

She never thought that was the last time she would hear from him.

Everything that she once held close has been snatched, ripped apart from her heart. His presence has assimilated back into the soil that he came from

And she can only suffer, until she forgets the texture of his voice, and the butterflies she gets from his calloused touch.

It feels like the weight of the world has come crashing down on her shoulders. The feeling is agonizing. And she buries her head into the teddy bear she gifted him on the day he was shifting.

At the bottom of the box is an unassuming white envelope. It's paper isn't yellow like that of all her letters. And she gulps as she sees her name written on top of if, in his neat handwriting.

It feels heavier than usual, and her hand trembles as she breaks the seal open.

Inside is a single sheet of paper, folded neatly. And as she tilts the envelope to take the letter out, something metallic tumbles out, clinking softly against the floor.

Her eyes widen, and she slaps her hand over her mouth.

It's a wedding ring.... the same expensive, pearl ring that she saw in the market at Mitras.

Guttural sobs leak out of her mouth, and she wonders if the clenching inside her heart will ever stop. Because right now, her grief feels larger than the life she has ahead of her.

And with the last of her strength she opens his letter and reads it.

To my dearest Mae,

I remember the last time I was with you. The morning before I left

There was a heaviness in the air, wasn't it? You were busy making breakfast for me. And I could see the sadness that you were trying so hard to hide. For some reason I was scared to wipe your tears away, because a part of me knew I was the reason behind it.

It pains me to see you sad. It pains me to be away from you as well.

Today as I'm writing this, the world around me is on the brink of collapse. The future is so uncertain, and we don't know if Eren is on our side anymore.

I can't seem to read through anyone's intentions. Zeke is still an emotionless bastard, pretending to have compassion. And Eren... for once all the sacrifices I made seem useless. My squad died for this... Erwin died for this. A war seems inevitable, yes... and that is the only thing I'm sure of.

But this letter is not about me, it's about you.

War....Its destructive, its quick decisions taken against the fear clawing your mind. Its finding a way to win with a blade pressed to your neck. It's something you can never process until it finally ends.  All my life I've known war. All my life I've won things through violence. I've taken quick decisions, not having too much time to ponder. But I hope you know that after a million of quick decisions and unforeseen hurdles , you're the only one that's felt right.

Sometimes I wonder how I got to have you by my side for so long. I can't believe we've come so far together. But I believe my luck has run out and my reprieve is over. I'm a sinned man after all.

Lucky would be the man, who gets to come home to you.

All my life I've known to survive. But you taught me to take a break and live. Thank you for staying by my side, when I gave you a million reasons not to.

You asked me if I believed in the afterlife. And I said yes, because somewhere the concept of all the people I have lost being together, and me having the chance to meet them, gave me comfort. But what is gone is gone. It can never come back. And fantasies like the afterlife hardly bring much solace to me, now that I stand at the edge of this war.

But I still hope that one day I get to meet you again. If not in the afterlife, then in another lifetime perhaps.

If you're reading this letter, then I'm probably dead. There's now way I'd let anyone touch this letter if my body was alive.

So go and be with someone, who'll have the courage to wipe your tears away. Go be with someone who'll be able to give you the love that you gave me. Be with someone who'll write you letters everyday.

The promise we made that night is still etched in my head. And you know how I am with my promises. You best believe that I've kept my part and now it's time for yours.

This letter is long, I can't believe I've written all this much. I hope it makes up for all the things I've kept bottled all along.

This journey has been painful, but if given a choice, I would do it all over again.

I hope that we have left this world a better, a safer place.

So go, live your life. I know you have a habit of sulking, and you're probably crying as you're reading through this. So stay with Raz and be kind to yourself.

Go walk on the grass, when the sunlight is warm.

I'll be watching over you.

-Yours always,

Levi

_______________________

The sunlight slithers past the gaps in the curtains, forcing the darkness of the bedroom to fade away.

The light is overbearing and unwelcome. And Mae struggles to blink her eyes open.

It's been a week since she's caged herself in his room. And she's still here, lying in a pile of his clothes that are slowly losing his scent.

She believes she's cried so much that she's out of tears.

It feels like the pain she feels, has found its abode in her heart and permanently

settled there.

She's lost the privilege of being able to trace over his scars. Or taste his lips as she captured them in a kiss. She'll never be able to hear his voice again. And no amount of memory can make her feel the warmth of his skin.

He's gone from this world, and she has lost him forever.

The storm that ripped her life apart, has finally settled down, and Mae is getting used to living in the destruction it has caused.

She believes that the entire world's grief has been spilt through her eyes.

And the state of Levi's room tells. It's as chaotic as her mental state.

There are pages scattered all over the floor. His cupboard is open, and its contents are littered all around. The bed is a mess as well, filled with the clothes Levi once used to wear. And his blanket is wadded at the foot of the bed.

It's quiet as usual, devoid of the sound of his movements. Outside the window, a twig from a tree drops to the ground.

And Mae watches its fall, still devoid of the strength to step out.

Knocks on the door startle her and she stirs, forcing herself to get up. It's probably Raz.

She came looking for Mae, the next day, awfully guilty and embarrassed for leaving her all alone at the cemetery.

Raz was nice enough to get her food twice everyday. Without her, Mae's corpse would have been rotting on the bed.

But what awaits her on the other side of the door is not Raz. Instead, in front of her stand two burly men, armed with guns in their hands.

They size her up and the mess of the room behind her.

She must be someone close to the Captain. Her state can tell.

All of a sudden, one of the two is stepping closer. With his fists balled at his sides, and an evident scowl on his face. "Who were you to that Traitor of a Captain?" he spits.

And Mae narrows her eyes at him.

They called him a hero before and then they called him a traitor.

The courageous captain. He was rude and selfless, deadly and kind. Proud, humble, strong-willed and reckless. And he was also so much more.

He was the lives he carried on his tired shoulders. He was the strength to keep moving forward even in the moments that broke him

But at the end of the day, when he took off his ODM gear, and stood in front of her without the weight of the world on his shoulders. In his scarred skin, and his broken bones. With the tidiness of a maniac and the patience of a ticking bomb.

It didn't take a genius to realize that Levi was so much more than the glory of his battles.

All of a sudden Mae can taste the salt of her tears on her lips. "He wasn't a traitor...He fought for humanity, all of humanity," she chokes.

He was his bravery, but he was also his restless mannerisms. He was the piece of his mom's gown that he wore as his cravat. And he was the pink on his cheeks when she called him beautiful. There were parts of him that were only hers to love, and to accept.

He was her pride and joy. Her hope in this godless world. And if the Yeagerists weren't around, maybe Levi could have gotten some medical assistance and survived.

"If you are one of the Yeagerists, you're not welcome here." She hisses, absolutely appalled. And then her voice turns into something sadder. "It's not like he can harm you anymore."

And just as she's closing the door, the other soldier steps in, putting his body in the closing gap.

It doesn't take him much strength to push the door open. Afterall he is a member of the military and she's weak from all her grief.

Mae's eyes widen with fear. She would have never thought they would stoop low enough to hurt a pregnant woman.

But he has a softer look on his face, which somehow contradicts his rough appearance. "Ease off, miss. We're not Yeagerists." And then he throws a glare at the soldier before he huffs. "Also Samuel... cool down please."

"We're not Yeagerists, but it wasn't fair for Commander Hange to kill her comrades, and to side with the outside world." Samuel scoffs, brimming with resentment.

Turmoil is thick in the Eldian Empire now. There's always been two sides of a coin, and hostility has spread its claws, holding it's people in the vice grip.

"Sorry, his brother was killed at the Paradis Harbour... in the fight to take the flying boat."

And Mae stays quiet, replaying his words in her mind. She has no consolation in her heart for his loss. The flying boat took off... but Hange never came back, nor did Armin, Mikasa or Jean... For all she knows, they were also crushed, just like the outside world.

Ships were sent two days after the Rumbling to see what was left of the world. But it's been a month and there hasn't been an update yet.

Guess that tells plenty about the extent of destruction caused by Eren. She can't believe she used to once feed snacks to that nervous little child.

"We're the Royal Queen's guards." The calmer soldier speaks out again. "My name is Claus. And we're here to empty out the headquarters... The Survey Corps no longer exists, and so it's the Queens Order-"

"The Captain's belongings will go nowhere." Mae cuts him off. " I'm taking everything with me."

And Samuel laughs sardonically, eyeing her pregnant womb. "And who exactly are you to the captain... a road gig? I'm pretty sure the Captain never married anyone."

And Mae knows she's supposed to defend herself. But she can't. The thought of putting together a few words makes her feel like she's going to plummet.

The world has given her so many trials. It has tested her at every age. She's tired now, so tired that she just wants to rest.

Get up and face the world. The message comes to her like a ray of light, in pitch blackness.

Get up and face the world. That's what Levi has always done.

It's as if she can hear his voice thrum somewhere in the back of her mind.

And that's what she will do. For the part of him that's growing inside of her.

She raises her right hand to make their allegations stop. And the pearl ring in her finger shines bright in the sunlight.

"I'm the widow he left behind."

Author's note:

I see you've made it to the end:)

I know some of you must be surprised with Levi being dead, but Floch was the only one who thought Levi might still be alive, and Floch died, so I think the news that would have gone out to the newspapers would be of Levi dying.

Also let me know if Mae being pregnant came out of nowhere.

I had left small clues of Mae being pregnant in the last chapter (her crying so much because Levi was leaving and wanting him to stay, and her placing his hands on the swell of her belly). Don't know if it was obvious though, please let me know if I should mention it more directly in her thoughts in the previous chapter.

Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. Any comments really make my day, and I would love to know what you thought of the fic!

Many thanks!

Also since I'm a graphic designer and I really want to get into illustration, I will make a book cover for this book and get one copy printed for me (let me know if you would be interested to see that, just incase)

(PS: this is not the last chapter lol. I was just messing with you all lol. Last chapter will be out in 2-3 weeks as I'm still not done with it)

[corawithfanfiction]

La Belle Et Le Belle I Prince!Tom Hliddleston

Edge Of Seventeen (Episode 3)

Toxic (episode 2) - Take Me To The Church (episode 4)

MY MASTERLIST! - EVENTS! - HOME!

This is an original story and may not be copied or translated into another language without permission!

summary: Lia voluntarily goes to the monster's palace instead of her cousin. And as she begins to meet the people of the cursed house, she takes her first step into the unknown.

warning: body deformation, non-consensual abduction, gothic architecture, depression, curse

With every step, a new page of a new life was opening. As she followed Lumiere, she did not neglect to examine the surroundings. The fear in her grew with each step, while a hopeful excitement blossomed.

This place was very different from the place where Lia was born and raised. She wanted to touch every single tile behind the wall she passed and read about the lives she had witnessed.

Yet the town she came from, the house she grew up in, was home to shallow and monotonous lives. A group of people who only cared about raising their daughters to be beautiful brides and making good marriages, a bunch of people who called themselves socialites, but who could not even pass through the back streets of the royalty.

Lumiere made a noise to announce his arrival, but Lia was so lost in thought that she didn't notice. When Lumiere gently took Eftalia's arm, the young woman winced at the warmth she felt, and it was the only way she could get out of her thoughts.

“I'm sorry Mademoiselle, I didn't mean to hurt you. I just called out but you didn't hear me,” the man in front of her said embarrassedly.

Lia smiled and said it didn't matter. Lumiere opened the door they were standing in front of and went inside. Then he motioned for Lia to come in as well.

The room they were in was furnished in the Victorian style of the eighteen hundreds, relatively small and modest considering the chateau. It was, of course, considerably larger than any room in Lia's house, but it would have been unreasonable to compare it to any other house in town.

“Mademoiselle Eftalia, this is my least favorite friend, Cogsworth.” He said, directing Lia to the man in front of her. After seeing Lumiere, Lia had thought that everyone here was surrounded by the same curse. Bodies turned to wax, hands giving off heat, and beams of light coming out of the slits in their faces. But as soon as she saw Cogsworth, she realized that this was a curse that belonged only to Lumiere.

Cogsworth was very different. It was as if the middle-aged man in front of him had turned into a machine. There was a half wheel covering the right side of his face. The other half of the wheel was invisible, but you could see the cracks under her left eye where it had entered her face. Horrified by what she saw, Lia didn't know how to react. She shook her head, trying not to lose her composure, and held out her hand to Cogsworth, trying to keep it from trembling.

"Mademoiselle Eftalia, it is an honor to meet you, sir. Personally, I was expecting Mademoiselle Zoelle to be the butler of this castle, but we will stick with what we have, won't we?" He giggled as if it was a very funny thing to say and wiped a tear from her eye. Then she turned around and said "Madame Garderobe, please escort Mademoiselle to her room, she must be tired, let her have a good rest and then we will see."

The person he recognized as Madame Garderobe stood up from her seat and came to them. She was a very beautiful woman. Her onion-orange hair was shadowed by no curse. Gold inlaid reliefs in the Classical Baroque style, in the shape of 's' and 'c', framed her body, starting from her arms and extending to her neck. Lia could not help admiring the woman's curse. She was probably in a lot of pain, but she was also beautiful. From her neck to her face, the golden varakkar rose vaguely, and there was a dimple that started around her left eye and wrapped around her right eye. In stark contrast to the reliefs, this pit surrounded her eyes like a mask. The blood from the ditch around her eyes had dried over time, giving Madame not only a horrible expression but also a very vampy look.

Lia was finally able to put her fascination aside, return to reality and stop examining Madame. Turning to Cogsworth, she could only ask, "The room?" When Lumiere and Cogsworth looked at her blankly, she felt the need to explain himself. "I thought I would stay in the dungeon, after all I know I am not here as a guest, Monsieur Cogsworth." She explained herself. No matter how strong she tried to keep her voice, it began to tremble towards the end. Lumiere smiled at her words and Madame made a 'Uh-huh' sound. After glancing at Lia, she said, "Come on, honey, let's get you to your room so you can get yourself together, the real festivities haven't even started yet."

As Eftalia followed Madame to her room, she couldn't stop thinking about the three people she had seen and what had happened. The words of the woman she was following echoed in her mind as she tried to figure out what she meant by the evening's festivities. At the same time, he still had not met his 'masters'.

Madame, on the other hand, looked at the thoughtful girl who was following her with a glimmer of hope. This was not the girl they were expecting, in fact Zoelle was much more beautiful, with silky blonde hair, quiet and calm, the ideal town girl. But Zoelle's cousin volunteered for her family's predicament and willingly came to the Beast's castle. And at the risk of living in a dungeon. She wondered what she had come here thinking. How she had prepared herself to save her family from a fearful monster. Not even Madame knew what her literary friend, the Master, would do to this young girl.

The townspeople talked incessantly about Eftalia. Of course, these conversations reached Madame's ears. Callous, stubborn, disobedient, naughty, tomboyish, sullen bitch and many other words were used to describe the young girl. But when Madame looked at the girl following her, she saw something completely different. After all, she was cursed to see more than meets the eye. Madame knew it the first time she saw the girl in front of her, trembling with fear but at the same time trying to hide her admiration and amazement.

Eftalia pressed her full lips together, restraining herself not out of fear but because she wanted to say what was on her mind to people who deserved it. Her auburn hair was unkempt not out of tomboyishness or callousness, but because she couldn't bear to be bound in the face of her free spirit. The coldness in her blue eyes was not because she was a sullen bitch. It was because she was fighting against the absurdity that in a male-dominated world, the only goal of all the women in her family was to be good wives. She was a cold bitch because she didn't want to marry every man she saw and wouldn't give in. She had no problem with that. She wanted to live her life on her own two feet, wherever her free spirit took her. Maybe one day she would meet someone she would really fall in love with and share something with, and then, contrary to her family's expectations, she wanted someone who would share a future with her, apart from being a good wife. In love with art, breathing in cultures, she could not waste her days knitting and preparing meals for her beloved husband every evening.

Despite all this, she had come to spend his life in a dungeon, leaving everything behind, disregarding his free spirit. Moreover, contrary to all his truths and dreams.

Madame had only one question on her mind as she waited to publicly express her admiration for Eftalia's courage.

"Could it have been her?"

As he took his steps with relief, he was aware of the monster watching him from the inner balcony of the West Wing.

But there was only one question on the Beast's mind.

"Who would willingly come to a monster's castle? Who could love an ugly monster? Could this girl be that girl?"

TAG LIST: @winterswonderland01 @lonelydreamxer @yutoorion @gracewills @scopyroris @meh1217 @michellewgrt @jennyggggrrr @jeconomos @chokilaufeyson @eleniblue @bluenote40 @nekoannie-chan @slavicangelmuah

[theinsanecrayonbox]

Sabretooth War part 10

alrighty kids, we are FINALLY at the end of this mess. we all agree it won't be satisfactory, but let's see just how much of a let down it really is

It was 28* pages. the whole book was 55 pages. an average issue is 22 pages. i get it, it's the 50th milestone, and we're also doing the Wolverine anniversary, but sill... (*there are several splash pages/2-page spreads so my reader read those as singular pages, so it might more more??)

also, this is kinda one of the most lack luster out of the covers for this saga. it's not that engaging, it's kinda stock posed (especially for them) and it's just...not cool? we're at issue #50, we're doing anniversary stuff, this should be more appealing

we pick up where we left off; Logan vs Graydon on the beach while the Pit Gang and X-Force have ringside seats. Graydon saying his only goal in life is to be a wiener; yes, that's fine. Logan admitting he's a terrible parent after it's pointed out; that is good. Logan trying to talk Graydon into being a good guy; no. when Logan has done nothing but tear down Victor into being something pure evil that has no chance of redemption, as an immutable taint on existence itself, why would he assume anything connected to him could be anything good? do i think that; pft no, but i think Graydon's a wiener. but we're not talking about my perception, we're talking about Logan's and everyone in-universe. they all believe that the Creeds are vile and should be erased, that every bad action they have ever committed, no matter the reasoning behind it, is punishable. Graydon should NOT be exempt from that idea (not to mention he IS that terrible, deserves that treatment, and has NEVER tried to be anything other than that)

oh shutup, it would indeed

oh...never mind, the wiener boy is taken out IMMEDIATELY WITH NO FANFARE OR ANYTHING. WHY DID WE DEVOTE PLOT TO HIM IF HE'S USELESS AND WORTHLESS??? you built him up to be a big bad, but nope, he died like a wiener like he always does. i'd be less mad about this if we hadn't devoted such a big deal to his return and betrayal and yaddayadda. because you know what; those pages could've been used to develop the SabreSquad, or to delve into Vic's psyche better, or heck even give the Pit Gang or X-Force more to do (yes i'd've been hap[pier to have given more time to make the OTHER superfluous parts more important). but no, we have Victor's biggest regret in life show up to highlight his own shortfalls and vulnerabilities...to just get unceremoniously stabbed and dead yet again. he made no impact on anything, aside from a board wipe that could've been completed with those idiotic Stark Sentinels.

there is indeed no justice in this world

Logan's line could be impactful of we'd ACTUALLY took the time to point out the times he HAD CARED about people, and contrasted that against how his acre for them were their ultimate doom. we BRIEFLY touched that with Birdy, Holo, Bonnie, and heck even Graydon; he cared for each of them, and as a result they each died...and in the case of Graydon he sacrificed his own humanity to save him from hell only to see wiener boy not make something better of himself; with that second chance but just perpetuate the Creed curse of self hate taken out on the world enmass. seeing THAT should've been heart breaking. instead we get a dick measuring contest

but see that's the thing, this isn't about Victor's tortured psyche and his fall from grace, this is about "those with the powers make the rules" and "might makes right" and "unhinged animal vs the calm of man" or something, because of those lines up there, "You got no powers little man" "I don't need powers to put you down"

their powers are being animals; Victor has always embraced and not denied his nature, while Logan has always had to "fight the animalistic urges" and thus has made himself the pariah that all love. now he doesn't have that crutch; he has no powers, he is just man, while Victor has looked inward and rejected his own humanity to embrace nothing but the animalistic rage and power that brings. it is savagery vs civilized. but it's not done well, not at all...

good ra that was all before the opening text crawl X.x

last cast lineup, and Arkady is still absent despite being on screen, while Aurora and Northstar are still present despite not being in the book since part 2 or 3

no, nothing on the island works, where have you been

who are you to talk Mr OC, we still don't know you, none of us know you and none of you actually know Victor

i can't...i can't keep commentating on every little thing...

oh that's nice, a panel of Laura and Arkady fighting together to distract and calm me down (does he not have a ponytail?? is that one of my hair styles???)

we leave the B Teams to deal with the remainder of the Sentinels, so Victor and lure Logan away from them to go fight alone in the jungle. ok, fine, movement, logical progression for the stupid in progress. ok. we're in the Blob's tiki bar i think? fight scene, mysterious tunnel, mk......to the Council of Dumb's chambers. wtf. actually you know what, no, idc; the island is fallen into ruins, screw logical architecture. fine, Council chamber

he's mind melded with the Pit. i...fine. makes enough sense, eat Logan now please

he's not gonna stay down there though is he?

oh look another panel composed to distract and calm me down strategically placed (who's watching me????)

so yeah, Logan's gets eaten by the Pit and internal monologs about how Vic isn't playing fair by doing this now (baby >< )

the skewed panel borders are a very nice subtle unnerving detail; kuddos layout team

that aside, interesting that that's Zora/Silver Fox II

i am actually into this sequence...to bad it's cut far too short

i'll assume it's because of Tom they got pulled out, but where'd Laura's backup mask come from?

oh no it was the Cuckoo. that's dumb. you're dumb

X-Force all gangs up on Victor while eth Pit Gang sits back and smirks, and Cuckoo is going all holier and mightier than thou until Logan says "leave him to me"...

oh and he has his powers back because the Forge Armor had a Deus ex Machina in it to fix him. so once again, another highly built up plot point of super duper importance is just swept away pointlessly

splash page of pointlessness!

and another

sadly that's how the writers think about YOU Victor

so Logan cuts off Vic's hands, then move sin for the killing blow with the internal monolog being all "this is for my friends and family and all the people you ever hurt blahblahblah"

why is Graydon on the symbolic revenge reflection? he was a BAD GUY WHO WANTED TO MURDER YOU. i just...i can't, this is dumb

and he's dismembered. i'm not going to show that because i have used far too many images already and it's not even that intriguing. Logan is standing over a dismembered pile of Victor with a satisfied smirk while the B Teams stand behind him also smirking, and there's an angelic triumphant glow as if this is all super good and was super hard. all hail our infallible savior Wolverine >>

epilogue time; Cuckoo and sitting on a cliff with Quinthead (don't worry he gets better), the Pit Gang fly off into the sunset (don't worry Pya comes back), Logan stares into said sunset internal monologuing about how Krakoa was the best ever and he's learned to love again or something (i can't be bothered to care at this point) before looking to X-Force and taking up leadership of them for the umpteenth time.

SO as a FINALE to this whole 10 part saga...it's about on par with the rest. overly graphic for the sake of unpleasantness, and sacrificing actual character depth to make Logan look like the best eva and Vic is the ultimate evil that needs to be put down foreva and eva. as a Finale to the Lavalle trilogy...it's terrible. it was completely mishandled, so many threads started and left loosely hanging. what little character depth it had was probably from Lavalle, but he should've touched it more. this was a story that we've done before; we didn't tread on any new ground. the biggest new thing was the over the top gratuitous gore fest and that is not appealing. being unpleasant for the sake of being unpleasant is not appealing.

and honestly, i'm sticking to my conspiracy theory that Arkady was supposed to not appear in this at all. the panels in this issue were less drawn in afterwards to me, BUT his contributions were very nil and his inclusion did not add anything.

uhg i have half this issue left for just bonus Logan celebration stuff...do i care enough to do it? ok, sure, summaries though

Mutants on the edge of town: well it looks 97ish. some soda shop jerk kid has a Sentinel in hid barn...i find it very sus that doesn't know/recognize it as a Sentinel, but whatever. Logan and Jubes check it out and it wakes up so fight. interesting that it could detect heterochromia and defines THAT as a mutation worth capturing, thought it went after X-genes. but it blows up, the end. it's a fine enough bonus story i guess.

Endless: ah Percy, still at it with the overlt dramatic internal monolpg that sounds super deep and important but is just not. however i give you, he's Logan your life is one giant circle because we must repeat reapeat repeat.

oh...ok i know i said no pics for these, but this...this i liek and approve. you actually acknowledge that Arkady has become a good boy and that Beast is terrible. i...ok i give you a point for this sequence, thank you.

other than that, it's kind of an even more abridged Life of, but also the goodbye letter i guess since this is Percy's last run with Logan (except it's not)

then there's his actual good bye letter. and then solicits for other wolverine to read until the new titles launches in Sept with some previews that look very similar to Origin...repeatrepeatrepeat

so once again, the easiest summery: Victor is dead-dead yet again (he was decapitated, so there's a chance it'll stick (but Savage wasn't decapitated...) ), Arkady isn't dead and still with X-Force, Daken is dead-dead, Laura 2 is not dead, Graydon is dead yet again, and Logan sucks. the end

now to wait for August with the anniversary special *dead*

[allie-campbell-bradshaw]

Chapter 13: Wait

A/N: I can’t lie, I am not the biggest fan of this Chapter! My writing seems choppy and I was cringing the whole time I was editing this. Maybe it’s the anxiety of writing in Bradley’s POV after Friday night…I’m not sure. I thought about doing away with it, but I felt it was crucial that we start to see Bredley’s determination in wooing Allie. Please know, other chapters are much better than this one! I mention this in my notes for every chapter, but just in case you missed it– I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted without credibility. If you do want to post this story to your page, please be sure that you tag my account or at least mention its original source in your post. 

Also: This story is sequential…please go back and read my other chapters, in order, for the best results!

Again, thank you for being here and I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter 13: Wait

BRADLEY’S POV

I cleared my throat as everyone kept their gaze on me. Even the bartenders were staring at me as they wiped down the counters. The bar wasn’t as full as it was earlier in the night during my whole act, but there was still a considerable amount of military men there.

“Holy shit” I heard an upperclassman, who was sitting at the table next to me, mutter under his breath. I walked over to the piano, grabbed my aviators, and placed them over my eyes. 

“Yeah,” I muttered under my breath as I strutted my way out of there, pursing my lips as though I was about to whistle, but nothing came out. I could only imagine what everyone was now saying in there, and what people were going to be told at the Academy.

I slid into my blue ford bronco and made my way back to campus. Javy, Emmett, and Natasha had plans to play poker in the recreation area. It didn’t interest me as much as going to Mission in Acton did, and now knowing what was destined to happen to me there, I’m glad I went!

Before I knew it, I was parked in the student lot. I opted to leave Allie’s sweater in the car to avoid any other rumors. The rec. was packed with students, mainly those under 21 that were too chicken shit to get fakes. Natasha, Javy, and Emmett all had one, and normally they would be down to go out, but apparently this poker game is a big deal! The winner gets a shit ton of money and lots of favors done for them until the next tournament. I walked over to the tables of students playing. Natasha and Emmett were still in, but Javy was standing behind Natasha’s chair, obviously out. 

Emmett did a double take between his cards and me, landing his eyes on my own at the third glance, obviously taken aback by the fact that I was now here.

“You’re back early.” Natasha stated. It was true, when I went out to the bar, I would be gone until 1 or 2 in the morning. Today was different. Completely different.

“And you’ve seen some action.” Javy said, eyeing me up and down. That’s when I realized how uncomfortably cold I was as my soaked clothes were drying in the intensely air conditioned room. The adrenaline that I had from talking with Allie masked how uncomfortable I was by the damp clothes up until now.

“Only a little.” I responded to him. All of them looked at each other, making it obvious that they were predicting my actions earlier in the night.

“Allie?” Emmett questioned. I didn’t say anything. Instead, I slightly smirked, turned on my heels, and made my way to the door.

I didn’t see them behind me as I continued to walk, but I did hear the sound of two hands clasping together. In my mind, Emmett and Natasha were shaking hands, as if to congratulate each other on their accomplishments. An accomplishment of getting one for their good friends laid, which hadn’t happened yet, but one could only hope.

I smirked as I exited the rec. room, feeling the stares of students as I left.

***

“Now do you understand!” I panted, frustrated with having to explain myself a second time to this nurse that just wasn’t caring enough to listen to me. It was now Sunday morning, and just an hour ago, I realized that the napkin that contained Allie’s number had been ruined when we were in the water. I figured I would just go to the hospital and see if she was working. Just my luck, she wasn’t. So here I was, explaining myself to one of her co-workers, wanting so desperately for her to understand my plea and give me Allie’s number.

It wasn’t working. This woman was more frustrating and cold than Allie was, and that was saying a lot! She had her cold eyes sinking into me. Her expression was completely stone-cold. I rolled my eyes to the back of my head and let out a deep sigh before returning my eyes to hers. Her deep complexion and light pink scrubs were piercing. I didn’t know what it would take to get me through to this woman!

“So,” I said, taking a calm approach to see if she would let up, “Is there anything you can do for me”?

She just stared at me, her expression the same as it was these past 5 minutes. I’m not even sure she blinked.

I barged into the hospital, not even waiting for the sliding glass doors to open completely before I was fully in the lobby, noticing the two women at the receptionist desk.

I looked at them and gave a wave as I made my way to the doors that led to the right wing, knowing I would have more luck talking with one of her nurse friends than them.

“Hey, you can’t do that!” I heard one of them yell, but I didn’t care. I needed to get her number and I needed it now.

There was only 1 nurse at the nurses station. She had a dark complexion and pink scrubs on. She was wearing a white coat over her pink scrub shirt. The coat had pastel bears, bottles, and binkies on them. Thank God! A nice one. Her hair was up in a bun that was directly behind her head. “Hi!” I said to her, smiling brightly.

“How can I help you?” She said, seeming less friendly than I had imagined, but she was an older nurse, and I know how burnt out they get after doing this job for decades.

“I was wondering if you could give me the phone number of one of your nurses on staff.” I said, getting straight to the point.

This caused her to sit up straight, becoming more attentive to our conversation than before. She crossed her arms and held them tight to her chest. “And who may I ask is the nurse in question?” She asked, with a real attitude.

I hesitated for a moment, knowing full well how she was going to react when I said her name, “Allie Campbell”. I let it slip out, sooner than I would have liked.

She rolled her eyes to the back of her head and let her head fall slightly, before exiting our conversation by uncrossing her arms and going back to her laptop.

“Look, you don’t understand okay.” I snapped back, reaching over and shutting the screen of the laptop. She let out a deep sigh and looked at me, not saying anything, so I knew she would at least listen for a moment, “We had an…amazing time together on Friday night. And she left her number, but it got destroyed in my pocket when we were dancing in the moonlight in the water of Acton Cove”.

She had the biggest ‘what the fuck’ look on her face, not even knowing what to say. “So,” I said, reaching over and grabbing one of the pale yellow sticky notes that was at the front of the station, taking the liberty of also grabbing a pen as well before continuing, “I was wondering if you could write it down for me and just leave it on the desk and I can indiscreetly grab it from you. I won’t tell anybody.”

I looked at her with hopeful eyes but hers were just plain, expressionless, “Boy,” she said loudly, “Are you out of your damn mind!”

This took me by surprise. I thought nurses were supposed to be the friendliest people, doing anything they can to help their patients. Me. “Yes” I finally muttered, quietly, but loud enough that I knew she would hear.

We looked at each other for a moment, neither of us daring to move, “please” I whispered, it was more of a beg than anything…like an owner getting the neighborhood together to look for their lost puppy.

She didn’t budge, but shifted her body slightly, to show that she was growing frustrated. I looked down and nodded a little before looking back at her, “Then I’ll wait here until you leave and steal her file”.

Her eyes grew wide at my threat, and I immediately sunk into my insecurities, knowing full well that that was the wrong thing to say. “Then you must think I’m a damn fool if you believe I’m going to let you out of my sight for one second”.

“You’ll leave here eventually”, I said, matching her tone.

“I am 10 minutes into a 24 hour shift. I have a record of going 8 hours straight without using the bathroom, and lucky for you, I have an aid that comes and brings me my meals which I get the ‘privilege’ to enjoy at the nursing station so I can monitor the newbees that are hired here on base, and when I’m not here there are always 2 more nurses that are monitoring the area, to make sure moronic dipshits like you don’t steal any patient information…or in this case, employee information”. 

I looked down, completely put in my place. She kept her stare on me as I thought about my next move, glancing over at the empty lobby, “I guess I’ll wait then.” I said to her, as I made my way to a chair in the lobby, plopping down and looking over at the nurse whom I just had the ‘pleasure’ of getting to know. She kept her eyes on me as the beige colored doors to the wing of the hospital closed between us. 24 hours. Here we go!

After sitting in the chair for some time, lost in thought, I glanced over at the clock behind my left shoulder, “9:15”. Fuck! It had only been 30 minutes. 

I resumed my thoughts, thinking about the most random of things, letting my mind drift in whatever direction it wanted to go. No matter what I was thinking about, my thoughts always went to Allie.

Around 10:30, I approached a receptionist and asked for a paper and pen, doodling at my chair, making patterns of diamonds-shading in every other one. I filled 3 more papers with random shapes and patterns until the pen ran out of ink. After noticing the looks I got from the receptionists (obviously now filled in with what me and the Black nurse talked about), I didn’t dare approach them and ask for another pen.

It was now noon, and I was starting to wander around the waiting room. A few people had now occupied some of the other chairs, watching me like I was a crazy person. After a few minutes, I started to do some pushups. My goal was to be able to do 100 by the end of the year. I got to 36, easily, when I noticed some whispers of other people in the lobby, so I aborted my plan.

At 12:45, the nurse in pink came out to the waiting room, eyebrows raised but face still emotionless. I could tell she was surprised to have seen me still there. I looked at her with a “war-like” expression, making it clear that I was not giving up. She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she grabbed some clipboards from the receptionist desk and made her way back to her nursing station.

The two women at the desk must have felt bad for me, because after sitting around doing nothing for another hour and half, they put out a box of trinkets and toys. I found a paddleball game and decided to work on my motor skills with that. After about 45 minutes, I had mastered the objective and put it back in the box.

It was then that I excused myself to take a restroom break in the bathroom on the east side of the waiting room. When I came back out, I noticed there was a plate of food and glass of milk on the table. It was from King Hall, steak, potatoes, and mixed vegetables, all covered in brown gravy. I looked over at the receptionist desk, which was empty. It took me a second, but I finally managed to put the pieces together…realizing it was from the nurse that I talked to this morning. I accepted it gratefully and ate every bite, not noticing how hungry I actually was until the contents were melting on my tongue at the first bite.

The rest of the evening was spent people-watching. One man came into the emergency room with blood gushing from an injury on his stomach. The nurse in pink was one of the ones that ran over and tended to him, looking at me and taking notice of my presence on her way.

About 20 minutes later, she came back from the left wing and looked over at me, like the way a babysitter looks at a child that comes out of their room after bedtime. I hadn’t moved, determined to do this the right way. She had a look of doubt on her face as she walked back over to her station on the right wing. She examined her area and had a shocked/impressed expression on her face when she saw that nothing had been moved or manipulated. Truly, I didn’t even notice that the nurses station was unguarded and unoccupied until just now.

I gave her a smirk as the doors closed, making us drop our gaze on each other.

The lights eventually dimmed and I pulled a chair over so I could recline my legs. Before I knew it, I was waking up from my slumber. To my surprise, I found that my head was resting on a white pillow, and a fleece navy blanket had been placed over my lap. Damn Martha (I unofficially named her)!

I looked over at the clock. It was 2:00 in the morning, only 5 more hours to go!

I drifted off again and woke up to the sunlight shining brightly on my face. The doors to the right wing of the hospital opened and ‘Martha’ came out, carrying a black purse on her shoulder. I groggily looked over at the clock and saw that it was 6:00am. “They let you off early?” I asked her in a tone that was way too friendly to match our true relationship status.

“I gotta give it to you Bradshaw, I’m impressed”.

“How did you-” I was about to ask how she knew my name before I froze, assuming the answer to my own question. I’m sure everyone in this hospital knew my name.

I rubbed my eyes, feeling the soreness and stiffness radiating from my whole body. I made a face that was a mixture of exhaustion and pain as I moved my muscles around, adjusting from the uncomfortable position I was in.

“You’re maybe a little too good,” she said, smirking at me. “I’ll let Allie know you stopped by.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, my eyes still adjusting to the light. “Well, isn’t she coming”?

“She doesn’t work today. She isn’t a full-time staff member during the school year” Martha said as she made her way to the door.

“She isn’t-” I muttered to myself, realizing what that bitch Martha had just said. “Why didn’t you say something!” I yelled to her as she made her way out the door

“Have a good day!” She yelled back from outside, smirking as she turned the corner.

Are.

You.

Fucking.

Kidding.

Me.

[ottororin]

[START ID: A long scroll format comic with a limited color scheme of white, dark blue, and light yellow details. It goes as follows:

– PAGE 1 –

Recalling scenes from her past and future in single snapshots, a character laments in narration, “You know, people weren’t joking when they called it a life cycle. You’re born, you live, you die…and when the world tires of the space you left behind, new life will take your place, and the cycle moves on.” 

She remembers a scene from when she was just a little baby girl with dark, curly hair; then pauses on a home video where she dramatically cries and wails on her third birthday; then after recovering a happier memory of herself graduating school with medals around her neck, she pictures a scene from the future, when she’s, maybe, ten years older than she is now, rushing out of the chapel as she had just married the love of her life – but for now, her partner’s face had been burned out. The perspective character imagines death to be a deep, dark abyss, and the continuation of life on earth to be like little, bald babies in space popping out from bright, white stars.

– PAGE 2 –

Back to reality, there is a young, black man walking down the street at night time. The narrator explains, “My baby brother is 23 now.” 

We understand this “baby brother” to be Devon Reilly, and he had just graduated art school. Devon has a curly fade and small hoop earrings, and was carrying what appears to be a diaper bag. On his left hand is a small heart tattoo, and a ring. (Except, artist note: I made the mistake of drawing this on his right hand, instead. Sorry. Anyway.) Around his arm is a cheerful woman with short hair and glasses named Jessica Madueke; she had been with Devon since childhood, and she, too, had a ring on her finger, and a small heart tattoo just peeking out under her shirt. She’s seen to be pushing a stroller.

Finally, the narrator says, “I’m an aunt,” introducing herself as Daisy Reilly, a fat, white(-passing) woman with long, bleach blonde hair and sleeve tattoos. A short bullet point list under her name reads, “Summa cum laude, aerospace engineer, free babysitter.” In the same panel, she’s carrying a happy toddler named Zachorie (spelled like that); his description reads, “just learned how to walk.”

 – PAGE 3 & 4 –

“Nothing happens anymore; that’s a good thing” Daisy says, wiping drool and snot from little Zachorie’s face. “But with no greater need for me to fill,” she adds, now viewing herself in a dissociative manner; from a convex street mirror just blending into the rest of the faceless crowd, “I can’t help but feel as if my time is ending.”

(Random detail: This scene/panel is scattered with reminders of mortality, like a crack on the convex mirror that resembles the hands of an analog clock, a sticker of a skull, and a sticker of a goofy old woman playfully – yet threateningly – captioned, ‘GETTING OLD?’. At the bottom of the page, there is a newspaper with a headline that reads, ‘Local Hag Dies at 32’.)

 – PAGE 5 –

Daisy’s gaze empties as her thoughts continue to take over. “So all I could do now is just sit by…watch…and wait until the world tires of me, too.”

While she wasn’t looking, Zachorie leaped over his aunt’s arm, and slipped out her weakened grasp, just so happy to be on the move.

 – PAGE 6 & 7 –

Jessica, Devon, and Daisy panic, as it had just registered to them what happened. Their faces read a mix of shock, parental fear, and regret.

Pushing Jessica and Devon away, Daisy rushes to the front and yells, “ZACH!!!”

But by that point, the little boy was already too far gone to listen.

The screen fades to white.

 – PAGE 8 –

The final panel of the comic shows the series title logo which reads “Daisy and Kylie’s Wife Simulator” – “Episode one: Part one”

END ID:]

wanted to make something that encapsulates how existential thesims4 makes me feel, so hi tumblr, here's a comic!

[churipu]

Can I get a HEADCANON where jjk men have a really super duper sensitive reader and reader won't stop crying about what they did.

a drizzle feels like monsoon !

featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro x reader !

warnings. none, just pure fluff (a lil angst) and lovesick jjk men <;33

note. my very first ask, i'm going to sob, thank you anon. thank you for the 100+ notes on my first post :') and i couldn't write for all the jjk men in this post alone, also sorry if it's not up to par, and if you'd like a part 2, please lmk! <;33

GOJO SATORU.

it didn't feel nice to be forgotten. you hated that feeling where you're excited about something, and it just doesn't end up happening the way you thought it would.

i feel like gojo would be extremely busy with his work, he's a strong man, and he's a teacher.

you'd always tell him that he should prioritize his work over you, since people could be dying.

the first time satoru had forgotten about you was when he promised to pick you up for a date, which never happened as he texted you that he had a sudden mission. but you told him it was fine since it was business related.

the second time was also business related, and you again forgave him for that.

the third time was your final straw because it wasn't business related or he didn't have to save lives. he just...forgets about you and left you hanging without any texts or calls.

[satoru, i'm going back home. call me if you see this.]

he's strong so you guaranteed anything happened to him, and

gojo woken up from his slumber to be greeted by your messages and a few missed calls.

he has never felt his heart beat that fast since the last time he got into a fight with megumi's father, toji.

my god he didn't even bother changing out of his attire or get rid of his bed hair, he just wanted to see you, the only thing that mattered to him at that moment was you.

he had an extra key to your home and upon arriving, he could hear the vivid sniffles from inside your bedroom. lord, you have to see the crestfallen look on his face when he realizes you were crying.

one thing he hated was you crying. and him being the reason behind it didn't help much.

"y/n...honey, i'm so sorry." he pulled you into his arms, not even caring about how his sweat made him sticky, he didn't have any excuses, it was his mistake and he was willing to admit it.

"you forgot, didn't you?" the way your voice cracked made his heart ache and he tightened his hold on you.

"y/n, i'm not going to give you white lies. i did not forget..i was asleep, and i swore i put up an alarm before but..." he sighed, "i put the alarm in my calculator instead, that's why it didn't ring. i'm so sorry," he grazed your cheeks gently, wiping your tears.

"...so you didn't forget about me?" you hiccupped, and he shook his head, brushing a few of your h/c strands that stuck onto your face thanks to your tears.

"how could i forget about my baby?" he cooed, "how can i make it up to you? cookies? hugs? do you want to go out now? you name it."

it bothered him that your tears still managed to crawl out of your eyes, so he planted a soft kiss on each of your eyelids, "please don't cry, i don't like seeing you like this..."

you nodded, "i don't know why they're still coming out, satoru." you tell him, "can we just stay at home? watch a movie? order take out?"

he nods with a smile, "as you wish, princess."

that day, he separated the calculator app from the clock app on two different pages of his home screen.

NANAMI KENTO.

nanami's a calm and reserved man, and you're quite the opposite of him, energetic, loud and pretty sensitive. but they said opposites attract, right?

the smallest things hurt you, but at the same time, the smallest things make you happy as well. there's no in between at all.

"ken, look!" was probably one of the most heard things in nanami's dictionary - honestly, he doesn't seem to mind at all. he finds you endearing, getting excited over the simplest things like butterflies, water fountains, playgrounds, or kids toys.

but he seemed to be stressed out especially today, work hasn't been great and he was in the verge of just; quitting. basically everything.

"ken, look!"

"not now y/n."

well it managed to shut you up for the next couple of hours, and it was getting too quiet. too quiet to nanami's liking, so he had to stop what he was doing and check up on you.

"y/n?"

you were all curled up on the bed, hugging a small heart shaped pillow, "hm?" you hummed, trying to pretend that you haven't been crying for some time.

"have you been crying?" you shook your head, back still facing towards him. and then you felt the bed dip down a bit, "y/n," he grabbed your arm, forcing you to turn to look at him.

and just like he suspected, you were indeed crying. tears cascading down your face, and the big blotch of tear stain on the bedsheet. nanami, pulled you closer, "is it because of what i said? i'm sorry."

"you were busy, it was my fault," yet you were still crying, your voice cracked a little.

"it wasn't your fault, darling. i just couldn't control my emotions. what were you going to show me, hm?" he wiped your tears, although it kept coming out, you smiled a little.

"it was a video...but i'm not sure i still have it, i scrolled past it." you murmur out upsetly. your head ached from how long you've been crying, and you felt undoubtedly out of energy.

"are you tired? don't cry," he placed a kiss on your forehead, "go to sleep, yeah? i'll be here with you."

"really? what about work?"

"you come first. don't worry about my work," he caressed your cheek lovingly, "i'm sorry for making you cry. i love you."

"i love you most."

"impossible."

"uh-huh possible."

TOJI FUSHIGURO.

he's a little big shit.

quiet brash, straightforward, and he doesn't care about what he said or the effects that comes after it.

you find that about him bothersome so you tried telling him he should try to stop doing that. toji would only agree, so he stopped doing that to you. but to everyone else? he could give zero fucks about them.

"toji, can you help me get that, please?"

usually he'd do it without any words, but today, he's been especially moody and everything around him seemed to be annoying him. including you.

"take it yourself, ya' have hands and legs don't ya'? stop bothering me like a fuckin' kid."

god, it took him a few seconds to realize what he just said and he darted his face to where you were standing.

you were silent, but he definitely noticed how your lips quivered and the tears that slowly dwelled up on the corner of your eyes.

he couldn't say anything before you darted out of there into the bedroom.

"hey, shit! wait." previously, he was sitting on the couch, slouched and his eyes were focused on the tv screen in front of him, "y/n." he followed after you into your shared bedroom.

"leave me alone.." you told him.

he sighed out exasperatedly, scratching the back of his neck. everyone knows the man sucks with saying sappy stuff, sorry, pleases, and thank yous. so obviously this was a pinch for him to be in, and he always tries to avoid having to be in this kind of position.

"fuck, 'm sorry for saying that.." he murmurs out softly, squatting down so he could see your eyes. and you were definitely crying. not the kind of crying where it would just be a few tears.

you were crying crying.

toji never liked it when you cry, but he had never said that to anyone before. he made a promise to himself that he'd fucking kill anyone who made you cry, and guess it's a conflict when it comes to himself, "y/n, 'm sorry." he mumbles out, placing his arms on the bed, right by your thighs, trapping you so you couldn't run anywhere.

"why'd you say that?" you ask him, a little hurt.

his teeth sank onto his lip, he didn't know. everything today had ben so aggravating, and it was his mistake to take it out on you since you striked a conversation - and it just...came out.

"i don't know, 'm sorry for makin' you cry." he used his large hands to wipe your tears away, "i'll take whatever you wanted, so don't cry."

his voice was rough, but you could tell that he was genuine with it, and so you mustered out a smile, "you said sorry three times, that's a new record.." you sniffled.

he threw his gaze to the side, the tip of ears turning light red, "no, you misheard."

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[theywantedplayer]

-requested- Heyyyy I was wondering if you’d write a Mitch marner one shot with the “you were crying.” And the “you’re warm.” Prompt where Mitch comes home from an away game and the reader is crying on the couch with Zeus because of stress then mitch takes care of her and takes her to bed

Mitch's been gone for about 2 weeks,Only 14 days and you were overwhelmed with Work,school,Taking care of Zeus and taking care of the apartment. You had a huge paper due in an hour,you've been sitting on the couch for 2 hours with Zeus hoping he’d help calm down.

Mitch always said Zeus helped him when he was stressed but it wasn't helping. You just stared at your laptop screen, at a bank page not knowing how to start. Your tears started to spill out again, your hands came to your face to try to hide. Your head Swung to the door at the sound of the door being unlocked, you quickly whipped the tears off your cheeks and took a deep breath.

The door swung open “HONEY I'M HOME!” Mitch yelled dropping his many bags to the floor

You were happy to see him but still a little shaken up

“Mitchy!” you sung running over to him 

“My girls are happy to see me I see” he smiled, pulling you into a hug, his arms wrapped around your waist. “Now gimme a kiss”

You quickly pulled him into a kiss. Mitch held onto you a little tighter, smiling into the kiss. When he pulled away his soft smile quickly faded into a confused look

“You were crying” he told

“What n-no i wasn't” you tried to play off shaking your head he brought up his thumb to wipe away the smudged mascara under your eye. Fuck you forgot about the mascara 

“It's just Smudged Mitch nothing to worry about” You tried to calm his Concerns but it was no use Mitch was on to you 

“When you cry your eyes get red and they lookin pretty red to me” He softly laughed “What's going on?”

You took a deep breath not wanting to start crying again. Mitch began to rub the sides of your arms to help you calm down.

“I've just been really stressed out with school then on top of that work, then when you left for the roadie i had to look after Zues and the Apartment”  you sighed “It was just a lot” you smiled trying to make it seem not as big of a deal.

Mitch felt bad, he knew it wasn't his fault but the fact you were back home stressed and on top of that crying while he was out with the team made him feel horrible.

“why didn't you tell me I would have called my mom or someone to come and help” He said  He pulled you back into a hug “Next time tell me ok?” he looked down at you 

“I didn't want to be a bother” You admitted

“Nothing you do is a bother ok?” he  corrected

“ok “ you mumbled into his chest  you two stayed like that for a while until Mitch started to  pull away 

“No,no stay please” you pleaded holding on tighter 

“Y/n it's late you're Literally about to fall Asleep in the middle of our apartment” he laughed

“Thats ok” You mumbled Pushing your face deeper into his chest 

Mitch laughed again “Ok hold on” He picked you up bridal style and carried you over to your Guises bedroom. You both flopped on the bed zeus following behind and you both got Situated under the covers. Mitch pulled you into his chest as he slowly rubbed your back.

“Your warm” was all you mumbled clearly starting to fall asleep “Like a personal space heater”

Mitch just smiled. He was glad to be home and sleeping in the same bed as you Instead of Auston. He laid a kiss on your forehead as he slowly started to follow you into sleep.

[c-estmabiologie]

Pangs (Candela Obscura fic)

I'm still obsessed with Arlo. Another character study based on where I thought the her Bleed Scar was going for a little while. Spoilers for episode 2.

CW: body horror, cannibalism (mentioned, lightly implied)

Also on AO3 ! Usually Arlo didn’t leave the bath until the suds had vanished and the water had gone cold. Today, though, she was restless; steam had still been curling off the water’s surface when she’d gotten out. She was standing in the middle of the bathroom, leaving footprint-puddles on the marble. 

There was still a towel draped over the chair from when Auggie had bathed earlier, not getting any drier with the steam from her own bath filling the room. Auggie. They’d had a lovely time this afternoon, picking out new suiting.

It was nice to have a friend. 

But now, she was alone again, naked and dripping in front of her mirror, the condensation wiped away so she could take a good look at herself. She craned her neck to see exactly how far the dead grey flesh crawled up her throat. Her blouse collar could still take care of it, mostly, but she’d have to be careful. No more occult rituals if she wanted to still be presentable. (Lately, much to her family’s chagrin, she found herself caring less and less about respectability, less and less about the costs that might come with frequenting the grimier parts of the city and keeping company with people who would never even dream of setting foot in Briar Green. The currency she held by being from the Black family was undoubtedly helpful, even with the fussiness of her connection to the Eastons and, by mere association to Eddie, their disappearance...but she thought that, perhaps, she might have to find a new sort of social cachet. It had been so bizarre to have to explain about Eddie earlier without everyone in the room already knowing him and trying to remember him as best as they could. Arlo tried to remember him at least three times a day so that she could be sure she was remembering him best of all: how his hair stuck up in tufts no matter how it was brushed, how his teeth looked when he laughed, how he would rub the skin behind his ear when he couldn’t think of something to say. Sometimes those three things formed a touchstone and tufts - teeth- ear was all she could remember, instead of remembering Eddie as an entire person. But if she had at least that she could be somewhat grounded. She couldn’t explain any of that to the Vassal and have them understand. Anyway.)

No more occult rituals if she didn’t want to feel how else the Bleed might change her. Her greyed hand had been unchanged for years; she hadn’t even imagined that it could change, become worse than before.

“You should definitely do something about this,” she said to her reflection. You should cut your hand off. Before you become a monster. 

She looked at her hand, at the void that ripped her palm open. Would the rest of her become the same, hollow and unfillable? What would happen once it reached her heart (or her mind)? Would some magick keep it beating (thinking)? Would she have to become some new creature? The idea left her cold. She didn’t want to become a skin filled with void. A monster.

A gurgle resonated from deep within her and she pressed her hand to her stomach. She was hungry and it wasn’t a usual sort of hunger. Her stomach had been complaining with the same simple, gnawing need she’d felt when she’d examined Mr. Ferris’s hand, and that had only grown when she’d taken on the Gredarn demon in the sewers. She’d thought the bath would have helped more; hot water and bubbles and thick, fluffy towels had always been curatives before for whatever ailed her after working a case, but not this time. Her arm couldn’t seem to get warm. Her body couldn’t seem to forget.

She’d brought her occult text with her to read in the tub — not an unusual pastime for her — but she hadn’t stayed in long enough to desire to read. Now, with damp fingers she turned the pages in her book until she found the entry again. The passage on Gredarn was short, just references to feeding and Oldfairen folk tales. She flipped to the next page and back again, but she hadn’t missed anything the first time. There was nothing to tell her what to expect next from having connected with it so deeply.

Her stomach growled again. The demon had consumed people . It had absorbed flesh and limbs and people fucking in their hotel rooms. She couldn’t do any of that. But she was starving, and if she was hungering like it was, would she develop a taste for human flesh? The idea terrified her, but still she poked her tongue out and licked the palm of her hand, testing. Her skin tasted like salt and soap and it was not unpleasant, but neither did it spike the pressure in her gut. Curiosity spurred her to lick the palm of her right hand, too, to see if it tasted of bleed or death or anything . The tip of her tongue tingled with how she imagined incandescent lights might taste. She inspected her tongue in the mirror for any tell-tale signs of Bleed, but it looked pink and alive.

She’d have to find another way to test the edges of her craving.

--

Where am I?

Seconds crawled by as she got her bearings. She was outside and she was still in Briar Green, that much she could tell immediately, but she was barefoot in the garden of someone else’s estate. She remembered deciding to go out — a constitutional to ease the teeth gnashing in her belly — but she’d been certainly wearing boots when she’d left home. She had a vague sense that she’d spent some time tailing a stranger in broad daylight for no reason other than that her gut had told her to, but she had no idea what had become of him or when she had decided to let that quarry go. (She did not think she’d done anything to him except follow him, but her teeth felt fuzzy and her tongue tasted sour. Her ungloved hand felt like it was filmy with grime, like something might be cakes under her fingernails, but it looked clean enough. She mustn’t have done anything because she was still so, so very hungry. Anyway.) The grass around her was tall and prickly underfoot. As she walked toward the house, she realized that the windows were boarded up. She was at the Eastons’. 

The realization gave her pause. It was better, she thought, to look forward. Closure could only be in the future, after all. It wasn’t in an empty home, and certainly not this empty home. But still she found herself climbing its steps and testing its door just in case it was unlocked.

She hadn’t been inside since that day when the portal had opened up and taken Eddie from her. Every room she wandered into looked like a storm had blown through it. Glass and porcelain was shattered, rugs were tossed, floors and tabletops were chipped and gouged. She picked her way through carefully, sometimes stopping before putting all of her weight into her step so that she wouldn’t cut her foot open on something broken.

She tried to see everything through the eyes of her past self: this was where she and Eddie had sat many times and talked for hours. This was where she had taken meals with his family. This was where Eddie’s mother had given her a cameo as a welcome to the family after their engagement had been announced. This was where she had imagined a very different future. 

But this was also where he had been taken from her. And because of that she was a different person now. 

Could I have saved him? she thought, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last. Years of studying occultism had so far told her that she could not have, but maybe that was just because she hadn’t read the right text yet, or studied the right ritual, or spoken to the right person who just happened to know why and how portals yawn open and suck people away.

She pushed her sleeve up to check her detector: everything was soaking with Bleed. Even after all this time. 

She was still so hungry. 

--

As she crept back toward her rooms she could hear her parents’ voices drifting out from the sitting room. 

“—And that young man she brought home looked like an overgrown urchin. I didn’t realize we were in the habit of clothing the local riff-raff.”

“Don’t be ungenerous. We raised her to be a philanthropist after all.”

 “We raised her to be a credit to the family name.”

Arlo didn’t need to hear any more. She still believed in who she was, but she found it admittedly challenging to be a person in the way that it was expected. She fidgeted with the fingers of her glove. The easy thing to do would be to blame what had happened to Eddie, and her parents would accept it regularly. They saw Eddie as a good man from a good family and that their daughter had been happy with him. Losing that sort of happiness would change anyone. But if she was being honest, it was really everything that had happened after that had shaken apart how she understood the world and her place in it. She knew what she was supposed to do, she just couldn’t seem to do it anymore.

“Auggie is my friend,” she burst out, surprising herself as much as her parents.

“Arlo! We thought you were out!” Her father said, at the same time that her mother sputtered, “Arlo! Where in God’s name are your shoes?”

Arlo tucked one foot behind the other, as if that would hide their nakedness.

“He’s a part of my Circle. We do a lot of good work.” That was about as much as she could explain to her parents about Candela Obscura. They thought it was a social group.

“Of course, darling,” her mother said, more composed this time, “but you know you needn’t work.”

“It’s the sort of work that’s no work at all. You know: charity work. Philanthropy.” Sacrificing some part of your soul to kill monsters was certainly charitable if you looked at it sideways. Certainly more generous than just giving money.

“Yes, and your  …Circle has helped you so much since the incident—” Arlo smiled. No one ever seemed to be able to call it anything but the incident , a term that she felt tidied up the horror that it had been too neatly. A crashed car is an incident. An uncovered affair is an incident. A portal filled with demonic entities that sucks away your loved ones and renders your flesh dead should be given a different name, but it was just another incident because no one else who had witnessed it remained. Anyway.

“—You’ve been holding up so well,” her mother looked down at her hands instead of into Arlo’s face. “I was just telling your father how beautifully I think you’re doing.”

Arlo kept smiling, unsure if she was supposed to thank her mother for the lie and pretend that she believed it. 

“I’m going to have a bath drawn. My feet are dirty.”

--

In her second bath of the day, she stared at the ceiling, memorizing the patterns in the plaster. It was dull and beautiful at the same time.

The ache in her stomach wasn’t getting stronger, but neither was it going away. She soaked in the tub, thinking of what she could tear to pieces if she were a monster. (Maybe it would be a relief.) If the feeling didn’t go away, she wasn’t sure she could keep it a secret.

She imagined telling Auggie. He’d be the easiest to tell and the one she’d like to tell the least. Because he was such a sweet boy, and because she was certain he would still be sweet to her even if she were a hideous thing. 

If she told Charlie she’d wrap an arm around her like a mother. Tell her that everything would turn out fine, even if they both knew it wouldn’t. They’d find a way to approach fine as well as humanly possible. 

She couldn’t tell Howard. He would be fascinated. He would just treat her like an experiment. But maybe what she needed was the experimental. It wasn't ideal, but if the rest knew he'd have to know, too.

Anyway.

Arlo waved her hands through the bathwater, one pink and one deathly grey, and decided that this time she would let the water grow cold with her in it.