#I hope this reaches the intended audience SOBBING

[glxtchdraws]

I’m working on an animatic loosely based on IDW Dark Cybertron Screamer/Megs!! BUT I HAVENT READ EVERYTHING SO IM HERE TO ASK FOR HELP

Yall who have read like everything and know extensive lore, where can I find moments where Megatron is belittling/abusing Starscream? Or like forsaking him entirely? Please I want to draw but I am like 2 years new to the fandom RAHHHH

[kyliesnaked]

The Mommy Protocol

Chapter 2

I look in the mirror and try to remember a time when I didn’t look like this. I haven’t been this way for long, but the days were beginning to blend together. I knew all the important stuff and I struggled to hold on that as my only means of hope. My name is Alexis Reynolds. I’m twenty two years old, five foot four inches tall, blonde, thin, and beautiful. I’m in perfect health and fiercely independent. At least, I was.

Now, on my hands and knees, in a tee shirt that’s too small, and…something else. I’m now none of those things. I’m made to look like I feel, infantile and helpless. I can’t ignore the truth any longer, no matter how much I plead and beg, this is my new reality. I’m being babied by someone I can’t bargain with. Or reason with. There is no pity, or remorse, or fear. And it seems like it absolutely will not stop…ever!

I shift slightly and am again reminded of what’s been happening to me. The torture. The torment. Taped around my waist is the most humiliating thing I’ve ever experienced. A diaper. You read that right, a diaper. An honest to God diaper, like what babies wear, only bigger. Hell, before I became trapped here, I had no idea that diapers were even made this big. It was taped so snugly on my hips that even if I wanted to slip out of it, I couldn’t. Not without making a bunch of noise. And noise drew unwanted attention.

What was worse was the expectation that came with them. They were, after all, diapers, and were intended to be used as such. In fact, they were expressly put on me so that I had no choice but to use them, further adding to my torture. I was forbidden from doing my business anywhere but in them and even if I could take it off without being detected, there was no toilet to use. Sure, there was a tub, but the door was locked unless I was getting a bath. And I never took baths unsupervised. I never did anything unsupervised.

I crawled across the plush and well padded carpet, crinkling as I went. Being in one place for too long would prompt investigation, both of my activities and of the state of my diaper. You have never felt the level of embarrassment that I have, being a grown woman and having the back of your diaper, that you don’t need to wear, mind you, pulled open to see if you pooped. I learned quickly that it was unavoidable. Worse than that I had to do it with an audience. Everything I did came with an audience.

I sat my poofy butt in front of my toy bin and grimaced at the noise I made. Every movement made noise, a constant barrage of shifting plastic. Day in and day out, this is where I spent the majority of my time. There were various types of toys in the bin, an old wooden chest that looked like it belonged in a museum or some antique store. There were action figures for boys, dolls for girls, alphabet themed wooden blocks, and kid friendly plastic building blocks, among many others. The toys that were way too childish had since fallen to the bottom of the bin. Although I was made to look like a baby, and play like one, even I couldn’t bring myself to stack colored rings on a post all day.

I began to pull some of the dolls out and spread them across the floor. There was a doll house next to the toy box that was secured to the floor so I couldn’t move it, but it had three layers that I could reach from a sitting position, a fourth if I kneeled. Themed as the ultimate beach house, it had tables, chairs, a bed, bathroom, music area, surfboard area, and elevator, a spiral, staircase, and even its own pool. If I sound overly excited about it, it’s because it is all I really had to interact with. There wasn’t a television to watch, my cell phone had been confiscated weeks ago, and I had no way of contacting the outside world. So this beach house was the only way I could keep from curling into a ball and sobbing all day.

My stomach growled and right on cue a warm bottle tapped my shoulder. I look up and take it, trying to muster the right face that will earn me some pity. I get none. A large bulbous nipple adorns the bottle, large enough to allow for adequate flow of liquids. I was watched as I took it, my bottom lip quivering, knowing what was expected of me. I tilted and slowly rolled onto my back. I held the bottle in my hand for a moment, my passive resistance, before a hand reached down and guided the bottle by the base to my lips. Another tear rolled down my cheek as the nipple pressed against my lips. My teeth parted and I allowed the nipple into my mouth. The bottle was held there until I started drinking from it. The hand retreated and I was watched until I had drunk half of it. It was milk, warmed to a pleasant temperature, mixed with a nutrient supplement powder. It didn’t taste bad but like everything else, its delivery was tormenting. I knew full well how to drink from a glass.

I emptied the bottle and handed it back before sitting back up. I burped softly and returned to pulling out my dolls. In an hour or so, I would be subjected to the high chair and spoon feeding, but for the moment, I was left alone. Nearly all of my waking moments were routinely structured. After breakfast would be another bottle, and likely a diaper change. The amount of fluids and fiber enriched foods being pushed on me all but guaranteed that I would have to use my diapers, a concept I found revolting and humiliating. The practice was by the far the worst thing that I’ve ever had to do, and I have no choice in the matter. It’s constantly on my mind that I have to endure it over and over again, then be carried to the table where I’m put on full display as I’m cleaned, knowing that if I make any attempt to interfere, I’ll lose use of my hands.

My life was currently a never ending nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from, no matter how hard I tried.

[hellfiremunsonn]

This Godforsaken hell of a dimension. Eddie Munson x Reader

This Godforsaken hell of a dimension. 

Summary: Reader runs to Eddies side after the demo bats fall around him. She’s not going to let him die here. 

I do not allow my writing to be republished anywhere other than my own blog without my consent

(this one is suitable for younger audiences, but all my work is labeled 18+ and will be titled otherwise if it is suitable for younger audiences to read)

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Word count: 1440

Warnings: pregnancy, blood, comfort, hurt, fem reader, no smut

Screaming and falling to my knees as I watched the boy I love get attacked by the swarm of demobats. I couldn't get close enough without risking my own life and knowing Eddie, he would do everything in his power to keep me away from him. "Eddie" I choked out, heavy sobs escaping my chest. Clutching my stomach attempting to hold myself together. Hold together the small bit of hope growing inside, that gave me the courage to run to him when the bats suddenly dropped. Just as quickly as they swarmed they all suddenly dropped. Every single one of them just fell to the ground. Rushing over to Eddie as quickly as I could I dropped to my knees a second time pulling his head into my lap. "Eddie, are you okay?" His smile was weak but he reached a hand up to caress my face. "I didn't run away this time right?" He choked, small spits of blood coming out of his mouth.

"No baby you didn't" I cried, tears rolling down my cheeks. "You're going to be okay, I won't let you die on me"

"I don't know (Y/N) they got me pretty good" He said glancing down at this stomach which had been bitten multiple times.

I shook my head. "No, it's your year Munson, I'm getting you out of here, even if it's the last thing I do, I will not let the man I love, die in this godforsaken hell of a dimension before I tell him how much I love him"

"Love?" Was all he could say. A single tear rolling down the side of his temple and into his now frizzy curly hair. His eyes began to flutter and I knew I had limited time to get him back into the trailer and somehow back up through the gate in his ceiling. "C'mon baby, let's go, you can do it" With all of the strength I had I lifted him forward so he was sitting, and he limply got to his knees groaning when he fell into my side. Staggering a bit to keep his weight elevated I started walking, attempting to keep him held up as best as I could.

We only made it a few feet before I noticed Nancy, Robin, and Steve emerge from the forest. "Steve!" I yelled and his attention snapped towards me. "I need help, Eddies hurt!" Steve ran towards me and onto eddies other side, supporting him more than I could and we walked a bit faster towards the trailer. "Where's Henderson?" Steve asked grunting slightly.

"I made him go back up, I didn't want him to get hurt" I said and Steve looked so relieved.

After making it back up into the real world we rushed Eddie to Steves, the closest and safest place we could get him to. It was a rush of towels and bandages as we essentially taped him back together as best as we could. I wanted to take him to the hospital, but I couldn't risk the cops trying to take him away, or one of Jasons goons trying to kill him. They all still thought he was this murderer, this 'freak', when he was the farthest thing from it. He was kind, and gentle, smart, and funny. Sure he was loud and a bit eccentric but he was the most loveable and least judgemental person I knew. His heart was too big for his own good, and he used it in every way that he could. Including when he ran, with those stupid bats chasing him, even when they swarmed him and knocked him to the ground. I knew every minute of it, that his heart was right there with him on his sleeve like it had been every day since the day I met him.

I had pulled a chair up as close as I could next to the bed Eddie was laying on. Checking his pulse every five minutes, just to make sure he was still alive, and never letting go of his hand. I knew he would been unconscious for a while, and I hope to god that he would wake up eventually. I could feel my heavy lids threatening to close, but the alarm I continued to reset every five minutes, kept me from sleeping. A soft knock at the door tore my eyes from Eddie. It was Robin. She stood in the doorway, hugging herself with a sympathetic look on her face. "You need sleep" she said softly. "I don't care" I said looking back towards the beautiful man, who looked calmly asleep if I ignored the dirt and blood he was covered in. "The unborn child growing in your literal uterus will say otherwise" she said gesturing to my stomach, my other hand gently placed over it.

"I can't leave him" I said but it came out as almost a whisper.

"I'll stay with him. You shower and come back, and then you can sleep next to him and I'll stay awake watching him" She came to kneel in front of me. Taking the hand from my stomach into both of hers and squeezed it. "I'll keep him safe, I promise" she said reassuringly.

I showered as quickly as I could returning to Eddies side. His side I didn't leave for days. Nancy somehow acquired IV fluids and had him hooked up to it for a few hours and he stirred every so often. The gang came and went every so often, checking on Eddie but also checking on me. Steve constantly made sure I had something to eat, and something to drink, whether it was water, or something sweet to keep my blood sugar up. He seemed to be the most concerned about my pregnancy and wanted to make sure I was keeping myself and the baby as healthy as I could, especially over these past few days.

Leaning against my hand I could feel myself starting to doze off, but a cough from Eddie snapped me back to reality and I sat up holding his hand tightly. "Eddie?" I whispered. His eyes fluttered slightly and they opened, he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light.

"Eddie!" I gasped. I stood from my chair to kneel next to him on the bed cradling his face in my hands.

"Baby" He said hoarsely. "I'm not dead am I?" He asked weakly reaching a hand towards me.

"You are very much alive my sweet boy" Tears began to fall and I buried my face into his hand, fearing the pain he was probably still in. "I was so scared you weren't going to make it"

"No way in hell would I leave the woman I love behind" He said repeating my words from the ground of the upside down. "Women" I corrected him.

He smiled lightly. "Yeah I guess Nancy, robin, and max have some of my love as well, but not as much as you"

"No, I mean" I took a deep breath. Shakily taking one of his hands and pulled it up to my stomach. The small bump of my stomach unnoticeable to anyone other than people who knew, able to pass it off as bloating. "Women" I repeated. "I uh, I'm pregnant..." I said quietly.

He removed his hand to attempt to lean up slightly, groaning and wincing as he did so. "No baby stay still" I said reaching towards him but he slapped my hands away.

"No I want a better look at my girls" Sitting against the headboard he motioned for me to come closer to him and with both hands he placed them on my belly, smiling.

"I'm thinking of the name Hope... If it wasn't for her I don't think I would have had the courage to continue after watching those bats..." I trailed off not wanting to reminisce again on what happened.

"Hope" He said again, a toothy grin spreading across his face. "Hope Munson?" He hesitated.

"I'd want her to have your last name, so she can grow up with the same name as the hero who saved his friends"

"And the woman he loves" he added.

"And the woman he loves" I repeated. Leaning forward I gave him a light kiss.

"He's awake!" A voice screamed from the doorway and I turned to see Dustin rush in and to the other side of the bed grabbing hold of Eddies arm. "Holy shit I thought you were a goner Munson" tears filled both their eyes.

"Nah, it's like I told you Henderson, this is my year, I can feel it" He looked back at me, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

[arcadianmoonshadowjedi]

Moving On...

Hey y’all! This is my first fanfic I wrote for the TOA fandom and I’m excited to finally share! Since I felt pretty unsatisfied and disappointed by the ending of ROTT, I felt the urge to write my own version rott fix it fic. This is a pretty bittersweet ending I came up with where Jim makes a different decision with the Kronisphere. I hope this provides you with closure and most importantly, enjoy!

~~~

Heart Shattered, speechless, Jim just couldn't accept that Toby was gone. Tobes, his lifelong best friend since they were kids, gone. If it weren't for his sacrifice, Jim wouldn't have defeated Bellrec and saved the world. When he finally let go of Toby's hand and stood up, he was hugged tightly by Blinky, his surrogate father. He couldn't stop trembling as everyone around him cried. Claire ran to him for a comfort hug. He knew that no one was able to recover from everything they've been through. He was already missing Toby now.

"Master Jim," started Blinky as everyone looked at the green ball rolled towards them. "The Kronisphere" Jim wiped his tears and knelt down to pick it up.

                        The Kronisphere will make everything right.

Nari's soft voice rang in Jim's head as he figured out its purpose. Time. He could start all over and bring back everyone he loves. Toby, Strickler, Nari, Nomura. Not just them, but everyone he'd lost on his trollhunting journey, Merlin, Draal, Vendel. He noticed everyone around him staring at him waiting for him to make a decision.

"It's your choice, Master Jim," Blinky smiled at him. "Just know, you will always be my son. My magnificent son." Jim knew that behind that smile was a lot of wariness. Aja and Steve held hands tightly and lovingly as they looked on. Then there was Claire, the love of his life who stood across from him with teary eyes. They've been through so much together and he couldn't ask for a better soul mate.

The heroes of Arcadia have all been through so much together. They defeated Gum-Gums, Morgana, Morando, the Arcane Order. Jim turned to look at his fallen best friend and burst to tears once more. He and Toby went through so much in their trollhunting adventures and have had so many victories together leading up to this. Jim clenched the Kronisphere in his fist.

"No" he said as he tossed it. "We've made it this far. We've finally won! We can't just go back and let that all go," With Excalibur in his hand, he lifted it into the air and delivered the blow that would destroy the Kronisphere once and for all to prevent it from ever falling into the wrong hands.

Jim had never been this determined before despite all the pain he felt. "Toby and everyone we lost sacrificed their lives to save the world we live in. If we go all the way back, we not only throw that away, but we bring back everything we fought to destroy." Jim paused and took a deep breath. "We need to honor their memory by moving forward and rebuilding Arcadia for the better,"

He finally knelt down by his best friend and held him tightly in his arms one last time. "Goodbye Tobes," he whispered as tears fell from his eyes onto his friend's cheeks. "Thank you for everything buddy, you'll always be in my heart." Finally everyone knelt down and paid their respects to their fallen friend. Aaarrrgghh, finally recovering from his mental breakdown, approached and knelt down by Toby, grabbing his hand. "Goodbye... wingman,"

*** 

In the days to follow, on a dark, gloomy morning, the remaining trollhunters gathered along with the Arcadian citizens to mourn those they have lost along with the destruction of their home. All dressed in black and surrounded by rubble and debris, they held hands and sought to comfort one another. 

After giving Toby the proper burial he deserved, Jim walked up to the podium and grabbed the mic, looking ahead at the grieving audience. Darci grieved her beloved T.P. as her father and Mary held her tight to comfort her. Nancy Domzalski wailed uncontrollably in Varvatos's giant arms. "I should've said goodbye to my Toby Pie when he went off to college," she sobbed harder as Varvatos stroked her gray hairs with his three fingers. "Your grandson fought with valor and honor. He had... a glorious death," 

Claire stood with Barbara who was grieving her fiancé and they held hands as they looked towards Jim, encouraging him before his speech. He cleared his throat and finally spoke. 

"Tobias Domzalski was more than just my best friend and fellow Trollhunter, he was my brother. He's always been there for me  since we were kids. He always supported me in all my adventures and I know for a fact I wouldn't be the trollhunter I am today if it weren't for him. I couldn't have asked for anyone else to find the amulet that day in the canals. He was with me from the start, and he will always be with me," Jim placed his hand over his heart and looked up to the sky, smiling with tears in his eyes. "Rest in peace Tobes. I'll always remember you," 

As Jim stepped away from the podium, a round of applause along with sniffles came from the audience. Everyone walked towards the pictures of Arcadia's fallen heroes and placed flowers and other things they've remembered them with. 

Jim and Claire walked towards each other and reached out for a heartwarming hug.

"You did great up there," Claire whispered in his ear as she stroked his hair. He held her even tighter and buried his face in her shoulder. They looked at each other tearfully and lovingly as they held each other tight. 

"I love you Claire, always and forever," 

"I love you too, Jim Lake," 

They held each other once again, not intending on letting go anytime soon. 

*** 

In the years to come, the citizens of Arcadia all worked together to rebuild their beloved home while Blinky and Aaarrrgghh rebuilt Heartstone Trollmarket from the revived heartstone, inviting the trolls from Hoboken, the quagawumps, and from all around the world to come help them and live there. The citizens of Arcadia were eventually welcomed to Trollmarket as friends and trolls would always be welcomed to Arcadia to spend the night with their fellow humans. 

As for the fallen heroes, they each had statues built in Arcadia. Despite the Hero's Forge always having previous Trollhunters chosen by Merlin, Toby had a statue of him built there by his wingman with his warhammer in his hand. To honor one of his valued customers, Stuart renamed his taco truck Toby D. Burritos. Strickler's portrait was hung at the school where everyone would see. The museum honored Nomura by showcasing troll, extraterrestrial, and magical history and promoting harmony. Last but not least, a vast, colorful garden was planted in the center of town in memory of Nari. Each and every one of their stories, along with those of everyone who fought for Arcadia and the world, would continue to be told for centuries to come. 

The remaining heroes of Arcadia all went their separate ways, but not after a heartfelt goodbye. They each promised to stay in touch and to unite wherever the fight takes them. Douxie traveled to Hong Kong after receiving a spare Horngazel from Trollmarket to save Archie and Charlemagne, always keeping a flower pot with him. Steve moved to Akiridion-5 to be with Aja and to become a co-Earthen ambassador with his fellow Creepslayer Eli. Nancy was unable to stay in Arcadia any longer on her own, so she moved to Akiridion-5 to be with Varvatos, but always kept her Toby-Pie in her heart. Krel stayed in Arcadia and helped advance the technology available on Earth and promoted further education on extraterrestrial presence at the high school. Barbara continued to save lives in the hospital while also strengthening ties between humans and Trollkind. She never stopped wearing Walt's engagement ring and always made sure to keep his memory alive. 

As for Jim and Claire, they eventually married and built their home in Arcadia. They had a girl, Deya Nuñez-Lake and a younger boy, Toby Nuñez-Lake. The two kids would never get bored of hearing their parents' trollhunting adventures and the story of Toby's heroism and sacrifice before bedtime. They were always eager to accompany their parents to Trollmarket and role play their parents' adventure with their favorite troll Aaarrrgghh. They also loved when Blinky would share trollkind's marvelous adventures from the start of time. 

Arcadia had become an attraction site known worldwide for all the crazy magic and extraterrestrial activity that people would crave to visit in their lifetimes. It may have been at peace in recent times, but that doesn't mean there wouldn’t be any future threats to come. But the trollhunters battled life-threatening wars in the past, and would be ready for whatever comes their way.

~~~

Thank you so much for reading this! This definitely took a huge toll on me to write and I was pretty emotional but writing this helped me cope with my disappointment with the movie’s ending. I do plan to do another fix it but with a happier ending where Toby and Strickler are alive so stay tuned!

[firstdegreefangirl]

If you are open to Ted Lasso requests, then Roy Kent/Keeley Jones + sickfic and snuggles?

Oh, nonnie, this got WAY out of hand. But I had SO MUCH FUN writing it, so thank you! There's a lot going on at the beginning here, but I swear there are sickfic and snuggles under the break. I hope you like it!

Read the whole thing in one click HERE on ao3!

The morning gets off to a late start, right out of the gate. The team bus leaves late when they lose Nate again (this year they knew to check the luggage hold, but no one thought to look in the upstairs bathroom, where he was “looking for a little extra privacy, sorry”) and there’s more traffic than anyone could have predicted.

Altogether, it means that the team hardly makes it to Sheffield with time to drop their bags at the hotel before they’re due at the stadium for the game.

Roy tosses a duffel bag onto one of the double beds in the room he’s sharing with Ted tonight (not by choice; it turns out relegation means there’s not enough money in the team budget for all four coaches to have separate suites. Last away game, he and Nate had been roommates, but Ted has some big idea about everyone spending equal amounts of time together in the name of ‘equitable morale,’ and apparently coaching staff isn’t exempt.)

Really, he should have taken the job with SkySports.

At least then, he wouldn’t be pulling a furry green unicorn out of his bag and sitting it carefully by the pillows.

“Security object, Roy?” Ted points from across the room as Roy reaches for his phone. “Respect. No shame in a man seeking a little comfort from-”

“Fuck off,” he snaps, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Phoebe’s mad her mum wouldn’t let her come on a sleepover with the team this weekend. Asked me to bring Captain McKibbin along instead, the little idiot. I … promised to send pictures. As proof.”

“Hey, I get it. My boy’s done many a Flat Stanley in his day.” Clearly, Ted expects him to know what this means, so Roy nods if only to save himself the explanation. “Anyway, we’ve got to meet the fellas in the lobby, head over to the field – pitch.” A full year in, and Ted still struggles with the vernacular sometimes. It’d drive Roy nuts, if the guy hadn’t done so much to help him and his career. “Is, ah, will Captain McCarlson be joining us for the-”

“McKibbin. Captain McKibbin, and he will not. Phoebe says he can stay here, to ward off any bad dream monsters.”

“Well you be sure to let her know that I intend to sleep snug as a bug in a rug tonight. No, two rugs!” Tim points at Roy with both hands, then spins around and opens the door to the hallway.

He still hasn’t gotten a chance to catch up with Keeley before the match starts. She and Rebecca had driven out separately – something about girl talk and lattes – but he knows she’s around somewhere. The owner’s box is a little different everywhere they go, but never too terribly hard to find, and he catches a glimpse of her bright pink peacoat when he looks around during the opening lineup. She's sitting between Rebecca and Higgins, and as soon as she notices him watching, she waves happily. He lifts a hand in response, then tucks it back against his chest, turning back to the pitch and squaring his shoulders as the first half begins.

Richmond is playing well; Isaac has stepped up and really filled Roy’s shoes as captain, and all the lads are on the same wavelength, without having to say much of anything to one another. He hates to admit it, but Roy wonders if the seamless communication doesn’t have something to do with the scavenger hunt they’d hosted in the locker room last night. Ted had blindfolded half of the players, and made the other half sit on the bench and shout directions. The whole thing had been a mess, but then they’d passed around the bottle of vodka he’d stashed behind the clean boots as a prize, and everyone had left smiling. If that’s it, Roy can’t deny the results, but he’ll damn sure try.

That’s what he’s thinking about a few minutes later when he turns around again, looking for Keeley in the stands. He’s always looking for her, when he doesn’t have to be watching every second of the match. She’s almost always watching him right back, before he’s even looking at her. And half the time, he’ll feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. Even if he can’t check it until halftime, he knows it’s a comment on the quality of the plays, or the other team’s kits, or how much she likes the view of his ass from the box.

But now, when he looks, he can’t find her anywhere. He looks again, trying to pick her out in the sea of Richmond jerseys. Most of the faces are strangers, but he can distinguish between them. All the way at the top, where Keeley had been sitting before, it’s just Rebecca and Higgins now, an empty seat folded up between them.

Roy stares for a moment, waiting for her to reappear with a soft pretzel or something. But she doesn’t. Eventually, Rebecca catches his eyeline, and shakes her head. Her lips move, but there’s no way Roy can make out the words. All he knows is that Keeley has disappeared, and judging from Rebecca’s gesture, she’s been gone for more than a few minutes.

Something isn’t right; he can feel it in his stomach. And in his knee, but that’s more from the impending winter. The feeling about Keeley, that sits deep in his gut, twisting and knotting around his organs as he turns back to the pitch.

The lads are lining up the next play, but Ted, Nate and Beard are spread out along the sideline. Roy sidesteps around Beard, almost trips over Nate when he moves back just as Roy passes behind him, and finally comes to a stop next to Ted.

"Coach?”

“What’s up, Roy?” Ted doesn’t turn toward him, but he leans in Roy’s direction, and he knows he’s got the man’s full attention.

He hears the announcer take notice of his new position, the commentary echoing around them.

On Richmond’s side of the field, former team member turned coach Roy Kent is vying for the attention of head coach Ted Lasso. The players are lined up; what could he be saying?

But Roy doesn’t say anything. He just points, arms still folded across his chest, until Ted looks up to the stands behind them.

Both coaches now, looking up at the audience. Surely they’re not surprised at the show of support for the Richmond Greyhounds? They’ve sold out almost every game since their relegation …

The rest of the announcement fades to the background when understanding spreads across Ted’s face. Roy knows he’s seen the empty seat, knows he’ll understand the concern Roy can’t put into words. He raises an eyebrow when Tim looks back to his face, and the other coach nods.

“Just be in the locker room for halftime, yeah? The guys are countin’ on you for a speech to hype them up for the rest of the game.”

Roy jerks his chin up and down, then heads for the tunnel that’ll take him out of view of the crowds. The announcer’s voice comes behind him again.

Coach Kent, now heading off of the pitch. Makes you wonder what’s going on for the Greyhounds. Have they sent a coach away in the middle of a match, or did he ask to be excused? And why? But gameplay continues without him …

It’s only a few steps before he’s in the locker room, trying to shake off the memory of the last time he’d left the pitch before a match was up. It’s empty, no signs of another occupant, but the solitude gives him an opportunity to fish his phone out of his pocket.

No texts, no missed calls. Right away, he dials Keeley’s number.

If you’re looking for the PR Manager for the Richmond Greyhounds, leave a message for Keeley Jones after the beep. If you’re trying to reach your best friend Keeley for a round of drinks, hang up and text me. Oh, and Rebecca? If it’s too long to text, I’ll check my emails soon. Kisses!

“Oi, it’s me,” Roy all but grunts into the speaker when Keeley’s voicemail recording is done. “You’re not in your seat. Not that you have to be, but Rebecca hadn’t seen you, and I didn’t …” he trails off, suddenly afraid of sounding clingy and controlling. “Anyway, call me when you get this.”

He stares at his home screen after he hangs up, a selfie Keeley had nabbed his phone to take. He’s got an arm wrapped around her shoulders and his lips pressed against her temple, and her face is scrunched up in laughter. It’s ridiculous, the first time anyone but a blood relative has ever been his background, but he can’t help smiling at it, even as the worry knots itself tighter in his stomach.

When he can’t stand it any longer, he texts Rebecca.

You seen her?

Her reply is almost instant.

Not since she left. I have her coat, phone is in the pocket. Heard it ring.

Well, shit. She doesn’t have her phone, and as far as Roy knows, nobody has any idea where his girlfriend is.

But then there’s a sniffle from inside one of the toilet stalls. He’d know that sound anywhere; it’s the same noise Keeley makes every time they watch a Disney film together, right before he teases her for crying and she pokes fun right back at how he’s not.

He’d peered under the doors when he walked in, checking for feet, but he knocks on the stall anyway.

“Keeley?” He calls, pushing the door open slowly. Sure enough, she’s inside, sitting with her feet tucked up onto the seat, head wedged between her knees and hands clamped tightly around the back of her skull. “Babe, what’s going on?”

“It’s so … it’s so loud out there,” she whispers, but doesn’t look up. “All the yelling and shouting and cheering. It’s a good thing, I know, that the fans are engaged, but it was just pounding on my brain, making my eyes go all spotty. I tried to stick it out, Roy, really; I know how much these games mean to you, to the whole team. But then I felt like I was going to vomit and-” Keeley chokes on a sob. “I couldn’t find anywhere else quiet to go.”

“Right, well come on,” Roy reaches out slowly and squeezes one of her shoulders. “There’s got to be somewhere better to sit than a men’s toilet stall. You’ve met the lads, they’re disgusting.”

Keeley chuckles, thick and teary, but drops her knees and lets Roy pull her to her feet. As soon as she’s standing, she wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest. It can’t be too comfortable; he hasn’t taken off the Richmond windbreaker he wears for every game, but Keeley relaxes when Roy doesn’t push her away. Instead, he locks his arms around her shoulders and walks them both slowly back until he can drop onto one of the benches. Keeley stays leaned against him, but brings one hand up to cover her eyes where the harsh lighting seeps in.

“Alright, now, what is it?” Roy asks, when Keeley hasn’t said anything for a while. “You seemed alright when we left this morning.”

“I was. Or, I thought I was anyway. Just a little tired, maybe, but that was all. It was fine until the car ride, but then I got really queasy, and my head started throbbing.” Roy reaches up to scratch his fingers gently through her hair and she sighs. “It got a little better when we got out of the car, but then it was just so-”

“Loud, I know,” he finishes for her, then they both fall silent.

Exhaustion. Nausea. Headache. His sister had those symptoms once, just shy of eight years ago.

Shit.

“Keel. You don’t think you’re … You – we – couldn’t be … you aren’t …"

“What?”

“Um, pregnant? I know we’re careful, but …" Keeley cuts him off with a laugh that turns into a whimper, and he tightens his hold on her.

“No. Definitely not. Not this week, for sure. Just a migraine, I think. Used to get them sometimes, but it’s been a bit.”

“Good,” Roy sighs. “I mean, someday, maybe, but not …”

“Not yet,” Keeley agrees, and something goes warm in his chest, knowing that they’re on the same page. Right now, they don’t need to worry about anything except getting Keeley back in fighting shape.

“Have you taken anything?” She nods against his chest.

“This morning, um, in the car. It didn’t help much. Just need it dark. And quiet.”

“OK, that’s alright,” Roy whispers, dropping his voice even quieter. “It should be almost half, what say we find somewhere else for you to hole up before everyone comes barging in like heathens?”

He’s not sure exactly where they can go, but he knows he’s got to get Keeley out of the locker room before they clear the players off the pitch. She shrugs half-heartedly, and lets Roy pull her back to her feet. He doesn’t have a plan yet, but he starts walking them slowly toward the door as he looks around. There are no offices in here, no treatment rooms or storage closets.

He hasn’t checked the time since he found Keeley, but he’s played enough years of football that his body’s internal clock can feel the seconds ticking away. There’s maybe two or three minutes left, and Ted wants him to give the halftime pep talk. If he asked, if he explained everything, he could probably get out of it, maybe trade Beard for next week or something. Keeley needs him.

But the team needs him too.

All at once, it hits him.

Rebecca.

Rebecca doesn’t have a role in the halftime routine. There’s nothing happening on the field and she almost never comes to the locker room before the match ends. And she’s got a car here; that’s somewhere quiet Keeley can sit, at least until the second half gets underway.

He wiggles his phone out of his pocket again and reopens the text thread.

Found her in locker room. Migraine. Can you meet us and take her outside for halftime? Ted wants me to give speech.

Rebecca doesn’t reply, but a minute or so later, Roy hears the steady click-clack of her heels coming down the hall. Keeley whimpers, and he presses a kiss to her hair as the door swings open.

“Hey,” he says, shifting around to look at Rebecca.

“Hello,” she whispers back.

“Hey, Keeley, Rebecca’s here now,” Roy tips his face back down to whisper against the shell of her ear. “Think you can make it outside with her?”

“We can head back to the hotel, Keeley, if you think that’d help? It’s only a few minutes’ drive.”

“Yeah, ‘s quieter there,” she says, but doesn’t move.

“And I’ll meet you there just as soon as the match is done, hmm?” He runs his fingers up and down her arm, shifting away slightly. “Here, want to take my sunglasses, block out some of the light?”

At that, Keeley squeezes her eyes shut and turns her face up toward Roy. He chuckles and slides his glasses over her eyes, then brushes a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Alright then, off you go,” He lets Rebecca take her by the arm and lead her back out of the locker room, trying to ignore the way his heart clenches at the sight of her trudging away, hunched over against her own discomfort.

He’ll be back with her soon enough. But the door has no more than swung shut behind them when it bounces open again. Jamie and Sam are leading the pack, the whole team piling in around him.

As usual, their energy is infectious, and Roy finds himself slapping hands and patting backs as he makes his way across the room to where Ted is bringing up the rear.

“Hey, Roy, you get everything all squared away?”

“For now. Rebecca’s taking Keeley back to the hotel; she’s not feeling well.” He should have known better than to hope that Ted Lasso would ever let anything drop with a simple explanation.

“Well that’d explain the text message I got from Boss Lady asking if she’d be alright rooming with me tonight.” Roy’s eyebrows go up at that. “And I’m guessin’ from the look on your face that she didn’t mention anything about that to you? Aw, geez, I hope I didn’t spoil a surprise or anything. But the cat’s out of the metaphorical bag now, isn’t it? So I might as well tell you that I told her that I was a-OK with switching up the room arrangements if that’s what’s best for everyone tonight. Thataways you can keep an eye on Keeley, and down the hall we can have Biscuits with the Boss: Evening Edition. How’s that sit with you?”

“Honestly, Ted, I have no opinion on what time of day you eat biscuits,” Roy sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But thanks. I think. For making sure I can be there for Keeley.”

“We’re all on the same team here, right? What’s good for the goose and all that, we’re at our best when everyone is at their own, individual best. Hey, speaking of, there are some guys in here, waiting for someone to put a little extra pep in their step for the back end of this game. If you’re not up for it, I can see what Coach Beard has up his sleeve, or-”

“No, it’s fine,” Roy cuts him off before the rambling can reach full speed again. “I’ve got this one.”

He turns back to the group, and yells for everyone to listen up. When he’s got their attention, he takes a deep breath.

“What you’re doing on the pitch today, it’s fucking amazing,” he starts. “Not the score, though that’s pretty alright too. But that doesn’t matter half as much as how you’re playing. Hell, you assholes keep communicating this well, you’re going to put us coaches out of a job. I know Ted’s all about the rhymes and anecdotes and shit, but that’s not … I’m not a walking greeting card store,” everyone chuckles, Ted included. “But get back out there, keep working together, and dammit, make the four of us redundant!”

There’s a round of half-sarcastic applause, then Ted steps forward.

“Alright, y’all heard the man. Don’t get tired, get us fire—well, actually, don’t get us fired. That’s not … take the sentiment of what Roy said, but do me a favor and don’t take him literally. I like working with y’all. Anyway, Coach Beard’s gonna take it from here, walk y’all through a couple plays for the second half.”

The players cluster around Beard and his whiteboard diagram, and Ted finds his way back over to Roy at the back of the group.

“You know, if you need to head out a little early today, we can pull through without you. Sometimes a team is strongest when it’s split up to work on all the different things it needs to get done. Like taking care of each other.”

Any other day, he likes to think he’d insist on staying for the rest of the match. But if he’s honest with himself, he knows that he’ll put Keeley first anytime she needs him to.

“That’d be great, Ted. Thanks.”

“Hey, no problem, Roy. I’ll come check up on y’all when we get back?” Roy nods and shakes Ted’s hand quickly, then slips out of the locker room while Beard is saying something about the Sheffield players having “lots of power, like a high-watt light bulb.”

He doesn’t have a car, doesn’t feel like waiting on an Uber, so it’s a half-hour's walk back to the hotel. When he gets there, Rebecca is already waiting for him in the lobby.

“Ted gave me your room number,” she starts, as soon as they’ve said their hellos. “Keeley’s up there lying down. I, uh, I assumed yours was the bed with the unicorn on it?”

“It’s Phoebe’s,” he groans. “But yes.”

“I’m sure.” But she’s smirking like she might not be. “Anyway, Ted’s things are already taken care of, and I think I got everything of Keeley’s into your room, but she unpacked her entire suitcase first thing, so I might’ve missed some shoes or something.”

“No problem. She’ll get them back, I’m sure. Thanks for taking care of her.”

“Anytime, Roy. Really. I’m just down the hall, if either of you need anything.”

Roy nods his thanks and steps into the elevator.

He swipes his key card to unlock the door, then turns the handle and pushes it open slowly. The lights are turned off, and the curtains drawn, so he makes his way carefully, trying to remember if these rooms have any wayward furniture for him to stumble over.

Thankfully, the walkway is clear. He sits gently on the edge of his bed, smiling when the Keeley-shaped lump of covers shifts closer to him.

“Hey, babe,” she mutters.

“Hi,” Roy presses his lips together and pats what he thinks is probably her knee through the blankets. “Feeling better?”

“A little. Rebecca gave me water. And it’s quiet here.”

“Yeah, it is.” He’s not sure what else to say, but Keeley saves him from having to carry on the conversation.

“There’s a unicorn on your bed. ‘S soft.”

“His name is Captain McKibbin,” Roy replies, rolling his eyes even though he knows she can’t see from here. “I’ll tell Phoebe you like him.”

“Please do.”

“Anything else you need?”

“Just you,” she says, and it’s so quietly honest that if Roy weren’t already pretty sure he’s in love with her, it would have sealed the deal. He toes his shoes off and shimmies out of his windbreaker and trousers.

“Alright, well shove over then,” he teases, nudging her shoulder until there’s room for him to lie down beside her. When he pulls the covers back, he recognizes the hoodie she’s wearing as the one he’d crammed into the top of his bag when he packed last night. It’s three sizes too big, and she’s got one of her own just like it, but she looks far better in Roy’s than he ever will.

As soon as he’s lying down, Keeley is turning over and fitting herself against his side, tucking her face back into his bare chest. It’s still early in the evening, and Roy knows that if he falls asleep now, he’ll spend all week regretting it. But Keeley needs the rest, and there’s not much he can do without turning on the TV or lighting up his phone screen.

Besides, one afternoon nap never killed anyone, right?

So he closes his eyes and listens to her steady breathing. When Keeley wakes up, hopefully the worst of the migraine will have passed, and she’ll feel more like herself again. Roy knows they’ve got a pass on team bonding tonight, if they need it, and he doesn’t want to push Keeley into anything she’s not up for. But rumor has it that Beard found a pub with a bowling alley in it, and that’s bound to be entertaining, no matter the scores at the end of the night.

For right now, though, the only thing that matters is Keeley, curled up against him and warmer than all the blankets stacked on top of them. She’s asleep, and he’s following close behind, and nothing matters beyond the comfort they share.

Not migraines, or bowling, or trick plays, or shoes that might have been left down the hall, or anything but Roy and Keeley and this moment together, in the dark and the quiet.

Just them.

[legoshi-plz]

Captivity (Legoshi x Reader)

Summary: You and Legoshi are kidnapped and forced to breed. That’s it.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW 18+), Dark Themes/ Elements

A/N: @jiffygis requested a Legoshi x Omnivore! Reader so I went with a Dog because it fit the narrative of the story a little better.

///////////

“HELP! ANYONE PLEASE!” You scream as you’re thrown into the cellar. The floor is cold and hard, you scrape your knee on the way down.

“Y/N? Is that you?” You recognize that voice but it’s much too dark to see.

“Oh shit, that right you can’t see. It’s me, Legoshi,” Your heart leaps at the familiar name.

“Legoshi! Where are you, I can’t- I-,” you flail your arms until you come into contact with the soft warmth that is his fur. He takes your hand.

“Where are we?” You whine, a tremble of fear lacing your voice.

“I don’t know, I was with the rest of the art department setting up for the festival and next thing I knew, I woke up here. Do you remember how you got here?” You could hear in his voice he was trying to be rational and keep the panic at bay. For that you were grateful because you were already on the verge of tears.

“N-no,” you choked back a sob.

Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it tog-

“Well well well, what do we have here,” came a loud voice as the lights finally came on. You could finally see that the cellar wasn’t a cellar at all. It was a room with a large glass wall that revealed the source of the voice on the other side.

An older ram with horns so big they could have only been surgically enhanced stood on the other side. He wore an all red suit with gold cuff links and was flanked by two equally luxurious bulls, his protection no doubt.

“I see the boys weren’t lying when they said they’d brought me a prize. Quite the specimens indeed,” he grinned manically, revealing a set of pristine veneers.

“Who are you? What do you want from us?” Legoshi asked, subconsciously pushing you behind him in case things went astray.

“Ah yes, I suppose an explanation is in order. [Redacted]’s my name and I’m what you’d call.... a breeder. Used to breed for the Black Market but there’s no real money in that. Not like in Brawls that is.” Your heart sank at the words.

Brawls were an evolved form of antiquated Dogfights. They were illegal which made the underground circuit that much more profitable. You cringed at the thought of him entering you two into such a life. Legoshi was strong, an Alpha male, a wolf; he’d make it for sure. Yourself on the other hand? You were a Dog, a [Y/D/B] to be exact, one of the most domesticated species out there. You didn’t even eat meat for goodness sake! You wouldn’t last a minute in one of those bloodbaths.

“Seeing how easily my men brought you in, I can tell that neither of you can put up a fight. Looks like you’ll just have to serve a higher purpose.” The Ram guffawed a hideous laugh, his lackeys joining in obnoxiously.

“Please just let us go! We won’t tell anyone!” You yelp, still clinging to Legoshi’s hand.

“Oh I intend to let you go, dearie. After you’ve earned your freedom. You two are gonna breed me pups. Grey Wolf fighters will dominate in the ring and you’re going to give me a whole army of them.”

“But I’m not a Grey Wo-

“That’s clear to everyone in this room, Dog. But you’re young, healthy, and ripe for being bred. With genes as strong as his, they’ll run right through you.” He fished through his jacket pocket, pulling out a cigar and lighting it.

“Now.... how old are you two?” His lust-tinged eyes raked over the two of you.

“We’re highschoolers!” Legoshi spat, baring his fangs.

“That don’t answer my question.”

“Eighteen.” Legoshi said through gritted teeth.

“E-eighteen,” you sighed in defeat.

“Thought so. A little too young for my taste, so unfortunately I won’t be joining you for your first few breeds but maybe in future romps. However, my boys will be staying behind to make sure Wolfie gets the job done right.” The Ram began to make his exit, pausing right before he reached the doorway.

“And if he doesn’t get the job done right, my men will be sure to give you both a hands on demonstration on how to breed. And I assure you, no one breeds quite like bulls.”

The door slammed and you felt your heart drop. You looked up at Legoshi but he was refusing eye contact, his glare focused on the 2 enormous bulls on the other side of the glass who pulled up 2 chairs, waiting for the ‘show’ to start.

“Look we’re gonna give you about 15 minutes to get your shit together. Talk it out, foreplay, whatever you gotta do but if when the times up, we don’t see any fucking, we’re coming in and I’ve got a hard-on you wouldn’t believe, sweetheart,” One of the goons smirked, winking at you. You dropped your head in disgust.

“Legoshi, what are we gonna do?” You whined, tugging at his sleeve.

“I- I don’t know,” he covered up his face with the one hand you weren’t clinging to for dear life.

“I don’t want them to... to...” you couldn’t even say it, which in a way felt worse and somehow darkened the atmosphere even more.

“Legos-

“TEN MORE MINUTES,” The bull called and you felt a chill run down your spine.

“Look Legoshi, we don’t have a choice, your going to have to-

“Don’t! Don’t say it!”

“Legoshi look at me!” He forced himself to finally face you. “You’re going to have to fuck me. We don’t have a choice in this and we can’t wait around anymore. Just... I don’t know, close your eyes and pretend I’m someone else if you have to. We just have to get the job done,” you lamented, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“What- what if I hurt you?” Legoshi’s eyes softened and you caught a glimpse of the turmoil behind his eyes. You could see you needed to grant him permission.

“You could never hurt me worse than they will if they come in here. Now please Legoshi, I need you,” you could see the resolve settle in his eyes and he sighed in defeat.

“Should I... or did you...? Your, um, clothes,” he said gesturing to your uniform.

“Oh, um, I guess whatever will get you going,” Legoshi seemed torn so you decided to proceed taking off your own clothes.

“C’mon, we don’t really have time for this. What can I do to get you hard?” You asked throwing off your top and dropping your skirt.

“I-I don’t know okay...” Legoshi said as he started peeling off his own clothes.

“Legoshi.... are you? Are you a-

“FIVE MINUTES RUNTS!”

“Yeah I am,” he cringed kicking his shoes off. He seemed mortified.

“Wow I never would have imagined,”

“It’s pathetic, I know.”

“No! It’s not pathetic at all, I’m one too. I just thought... I mean look at you, you’re the farthest thing from unattractive. And then you’re so.... well... such an ideal partner, especially in the Carnivore community, not to mention your kind of mysterious which is also desirable to most girls on top of being so kind and considerate so I just naturally assumed....” you trailed off when you noticed he was undressed already except for his underwear, taking in everything you said with an unreadable expression.

“Sorry! I’m just rambling because I’m nervous.” You unclasped your bra, revealing your chest to all three of the small audience. You heard a lewd whistle from one of the Ram’s henchmen.

“Let the show begin Sugartits, and you better make it a good one!” The Bulls roared with laughter. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves before you dropped to your knees in front of Legoshi.

“W-what are you doing?” Legoshi gasped, his ears and tail nearly standing on end.

“This won’t work out for either of us if you’re soft,” you said yanking down his underwear. To your surprise, though not at maximum potential, he was far from ‘soft’.

You took his awakened member into you hands and pumped it twice before capturing the head between your lips. He was warm, oh so warm. You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling, the sensation in turn causing him to tremble.

He began to really grow in your mouth, it seemed as if the more you took of him, the more there was. You began to really get into it, using both hands to pump him while taking as much as you could down your throat. You had never been in this position before so you glanced up to see if he was even enjoying this only to find him with both his hands placed firmly behind his back, his teeth gritted.

“Legoshi...” you called in a thick voice that came out lustier than you intended, “relax, you’ve got to enjoy this to some degree of we’re going to get you to cum.”

You released his pulsating member and stood up, so that you could pull his towering frame down to lay on the ground. It was easier said than done but once he laid down, you mounted him.

“Calm down, Legoshi. Forget about them, okay? It’s just us here,” you whispered, nuzzling into his neck, hoping to calm him down. You were met with a strained growl in return. He was still holding back.

Your knowledge of sex education began and ended with sexual relations between Dogs, however, your own curious nature had more often than not tempted your porn searches towards the Wolf genre which was shockingly similar. You desperately tried to rack your brain to think of what to do in this situation but in almost every instance of a domesticated canine and a Wolf, there was very little for the canine to do other than simply.... submit. And that was exactly what you were going to do.

“Legoshi... let it out. You don’t have to hold back. I’m ready for you to take me,” you moaned, nipping along his jawline.

In an instance you were on your back. Legoshi hovered above you and you could tell something in him snapped. He was ready to finally let the Wolf take over.

He practically ripped your underwear off your body, prying your legs open and inhaling a long, pointed whiff of your natural essence. He started salivating immediately, seeming almost intoxicated off your sent alone.

He dove right in, not wasting a second in tasting you. His growls became louder as he lapped at the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he growled against your sex before diving back in. You moaned as your paws found their way into the fur on his head, tugging lightly. If Legoshi was anywhere near inexperienced, he definitely wasn’t showing it.

His tongue pulled you closer and closer to the edge until you felt yourself go lightheaded. You could feel your orgasm already at its brink.

“Legoshi,” you moaned, your grip on his fur brutal as you came in ecstasy. Legoshi finally rose, his eyes feral with need. He wasted no time aligning himself with your entrance before he began to stretch you out as slowly as he could being this consumed with lust.

His growl was absolutely menacing as he bottomed out inside you, your body feeling full to the brim. He started off with a few weak thrusts before the sensation drove him to increase to a near bruising speed.

You were in heaven at the foreign feeling of being connected with another animal in such a primal way. It was like Legoshi was everywhere, hovering above you, caging you between his massive arms while he harrowed at your womb.

You were still sensitive from the previous orgasm he’d given you so the second one came suddenly, catching you completely by surprise. You cried his name in a strained, desperately horny voice that sounded almost nothing like you.

Legoshi’s thrusts became harder, with more force as his knot began to lock into place. With a few more pumps, he came with a howl, his body locked into yours by the swollen knot. You both caught your breath as the reality of the situation began to dawn on the two of you again.

“Shit, Y/N are you okay? Did I hurt you?” His exhausted eyes filling with a light panic. You brought your hand to the side of his face to stroke his fur in an attempt to calm him. From the way he nuzzled into your hand, you’d say that it worked.

“I’m fine, Legoshi. More than fine. That was.... incredible,” you didn’t miss the way his tail began to wag at the praise.

“Y/N, I-” he was cut off by the sound of the door slamming. You both looked over to see the Ram’s henchmen had taken their exits, their jobs done.

Your eyes began to feel low, and you struggled to keep them open. Legoshi noticed your spent state and wrapped his arms around you, flipping the the two of you so that you were lying on his chest. You buried your face into his soft as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

“Y/N.... I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now...” was the last thing you heard before slumber claimed you, Legoshi’s confession falling of deaf ears.

[fandom-collective-writers]

Caramel Love (Isaac Newton x MC)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Isaac Newton x Reader

Prompt: Caramel apple

Warning: Smut!!!

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 1,773

Requested by: anonymous

Written by: @lordsister​/@lordsisterxotome (Click here to support me on ko-fi!<3)

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Vampire or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost this on any other website.

Other notes: Honestly kind of a mess, but I’m going with it. Sometimes you need kind of a mess. Let’s hope it’s an enjoyable mess.

       She didn’t know what she was doing to him, did she? 

       Swallowing, Isaac shifted in his seat for the twelfth time (he’d taken to counting as a means of distracting himself). His pants were feeling uncomfortably tight, his “problem” growing more and more notable as time passed and she kept making those noises, licking that goddamn candied apple.

       “Isaac, are you okay?” MC called from her place on the sofa, her voice painfully innocent, and his eyes darted away from where he’d unknowingly taken to staring at her out of the corner of his eye, unable to meet her gaze and form coherent words at the same time.

       “F-Fine,” he grunted, his voice squeaking strangely at the end, and his grip on his pencil tightened as he stared holes into the page in front of him.

       MC was silent for a moment and Isaac could feel her studying him, but then she continued licking the treat in her hand, the soft slurping noises and satisfied hums she made going straight to his groin. 

       He needed release so badly, wanting nothing more than to feel that mouth wrapped around his cock, making those sinful noises. An unreasonable jealousy had taken root in the pit of his stomach that some caramel apple would be the cause of those noises instead of him. He could practically see it now, echoing through his mind from memories of her writhing beneath him on his bed, begging for more as he plowed into her. Without realizing it, his hand was already reaching to palm his erection through his pants, biting his lip to keep his whines from escaping. Hunching further over his desk, his hand moved faster against the bulge, pressing harder as his breathing grew more ragged.

       Isaac didn’t notice the object of his desires calling his name until gentle arms wrapped around his shoulders, making him jump as his hand scrambled away from his crotch. The caramel apple was still in MC’s hand, the amber colored candy shell shining faintly in the light of his room, and as he watched her pink tongue darted out to give the sweet another long lick. His breathing caught in his chest, and MC chuckled as she pressed herself further against his back so he could feel her breasts straining against his shoulders. 

       “Well,” she idled, her hand smoothing down his chest. He wasn’t proud of the way his ribcage stuttered under her touch, heart fluttering. A choked groan fell from his lips when her fingers finally reached his crotch, dropping his pencil in favor of digging his nails into his palms as he resisted the tingling urge to buck into her touch. “You’re so hard already, darling. How long have you been suffering with this?” 

       He couldn’t answer, his hips twitching with the need for more friction. The slight relief he felt at the pressure against his clothed cock only made the ache even worse, silently begging to feel more as electricity fizzed beneath his skin.

       Isaac gasped, teeth gritting, when she squeezed hard, hips bucking helplessly under her teasing ministrations. “Answer me,” she purred in his ear, nipping at the lobe as he choked on his words.

       “S-Since you started - oh god, please! - eating th-that candy apple!”

       “That’s no good~” Said confection landed on his desk with a sticky thud before MC took one of his fisted hands and brought it to her lips, pressing feather light kisses to his knuckles and fingers. “You need me to take care of it, baby?”

       “Yes,” he bit out before suffering another hard squeeze. “Yes! Please, god!”

       She smiled, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot beneath his ear before easing him up and guiding him over to the bed. Sitting him down, she knelt between his legs, prodding his thighs apart as her hands went to his belt. 

       “Do you want my mouth or my pussy?” she asked, glancing up at him from beneath her lashes. Isaac’s cherry blossom eyes were dark with lust, lips parted around gentle pants, and his cheeks were already painted an endearing pink color, deepening by the minute. 

       “Mouth,” he breathed, fidgeting. She smiled and nodded, nuzzling him through the cloth of his trousers as her fingers finished with his belt and started work on the buttons. Apparently, she wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking because a soft whine of, “Please…,” sent a tremor through her body, his pelvis rising from the bed to grind against her face.

       Lifting his hips, she helped him shimmy his pants down enough that his cock sprung free. Isaac sighed in relief at having been released from the tight confines, and MC took in his neglected erection, flushed red and seeping precum at the swollen head as he panted, leaning back on trembling arms. Longer than he was girthy, if she looked closely, she could see it throbbing, begging for her attention. It looked painful. 

       She blinked, jumping, when Isaac growled, making her gasp when a sudden roll of his hips brought the head of his cock brushing against her cheek, smearing precum across the skin. There was a glint in his eye when she looked up at him, and she knew that if she didn’t do something soon, he would.

       He inhaled shakily when her hand finally wrapped around his length, feeling the velvety skin throb beneath her fingers. Agonizingly slowly, she gave his member a single pump. “Please!” he moaned in frustration, digging his fingers into the comforter. “More!”

       Squeezing a little tighter, MC gave him another slow pump, a teasing smirk threatening to curl the corners of her lips. “Like this?”

       Groaning, Isaac bit his lip as he peered down at her, her fingers teasing the vein that ran down the underside of his cock. Reaching to lace his fingers in her hair, he gave the locks a warning tug. His tone was husky, radiating virility, as he ordered, “More.”

       For just a moment, he was suddenly so overwhelmingly masculine that it caught her off guard, stunning her for a couple of heartbeats and sending a wave of arousal to soak her panties. Part of her wanted to test this side of him, see how far she could push him before he simply shoved himself down her throat or pinned her to the bed and took what he wanted from her, but a larger part of her just needed to feel him writhe under the pleasure she gave him, all pretty and flushed and begging for more. Testing Isaac’s dominant side could come later.

       Leaning forward, she swiped her tongue over the head, tasting the salt of his precum. Isaac shuddered above her, his hand tightening in her hair as she took the tip into her mouth. Peeking up at him, she drank in the sight of him, ruddy with pleasure and panting as she teased his slit. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he nearly sobbed when she pulled away from him, his hips trying to follow her retreating mouth as his eyes flew open.

       “Look at me, baby,” she coaxed, stroking a hand along the top of his thigh. “Watch me while I suck your dick.”

       He bit his lip, but didn’t turn away, his eyes looking even more lust-clouded now as he nodded. Returning to her work, MC pressed kisses down the side of his throbbing member until she reached the base, her hands sliding up his thighs to fondle his balls.

       He was getting louder now, his head thrown back and his body trembling as the discomfort from before was replaced by rising pleasure. Her lips felt so soft on him, her mouth so warm and good, and Isaac thought he was going to lose his mind when her hand squeezed his balls, making him buck in her grip.

       It always surprised him when they were intimate like this, the way she took him into her mouth, his cock disappearing down her throat, unlike anything he’d ever seen before. It was so erotic, so beautiful to him that she was willing and wanting to give him this pleasure simply because she loved him. 

       MC’s free hand busied itself at the base of his cock, pumping and stroking what wouldn’t fit into her mouth, and he grunted, teeth gritting, when she took him a little too deep and gagged around his cock, her hand tightening unintentionally at the discomfort to her throat.

       Pleads for her to keep going fell from his lips without his notice, too engaged in the feel of her and the need for more. Always, always more. The imagery of her licking that candy apple arose in his mind, unbidden, and he bucked roughly into her mouth on a strange wave of jealousy, all restraint lost as his hips writhed and rutted. 

       He didn’t realize how close he was until a hard suck made him gasp, a rush of fiery pleasure flowing through his veins and setting his body alight. Combined with the laving of her tongue along the bottom of his length, it was all too much.

       A heartbeat too late, Isaac tried to warn her of his sudden release, feeling his balls tighten and the heat curling in his abdomen explode. She made a surprised noise, coughing a little at the hot liquid filling her mouth, but managed a few hasty swallows, some of the excess dripping past her lips to run down her chin.

       Falling back on the bed with a sob, Isaac laid there, panting with an arm thrown across his face, while she swallowed the last of his release, the lingering taste of the caramel apple lending a sweet aftertaste to the thick whiteness as it oozed down her throat.

       “Are you okay?” MC asked softly, climbing up on the bed next to him so she could run her fingers through his hair.

       “That was incredible,” he answered after a few moments spent catching his breath, peeking out at her from beneath his arm. There was something hot in his gaze, something insatiable. He didn’t give her time to wonder at it.

       He moved so quickly she didn’t even see him. One moment she was on her side, lying next to him, and the next the air left her lungs as he tossed her back against the pillows, tearing her ruined panties off her legs and bunching her skirt around her waist.

       Lying between her legs, Isaac’s eyes glinted as he licked his lips, looking for all the world like a wolf about to devour his prey, and she was more than happy to let him take whatever he wanted, her caramel apple flavored lover.

[ververa]

heeello, I have a request!! Can you write a Leonore Osgood x Reader where the reader is her seamstress? ✨💗Something where Leonore starts to order more dresses as an excuse to see her more often and flirts with her at every good opportunity. I think Leonore is a very confident woman, so she may have taken the initiative to kiss the reader as soon as she thought she had a chance, not being able to withstand a rejection

thank you and sorry if I made mistakes, I'm not very good at writing in english :/

ps. I love your blog💖

“Beyond The Wildest Dreams”

A/N: Thank you so much for this request!!! I had a lot of fun writing it 🤗😅 It's longer than I intended and it's only a few of all the ideas I had for this fic 🙈 So, I actually may write a 2nd part or since I have a few requests for Lenore I may combine them

Anyways I kinda feel like it's not exactly what you wanted, but I hope you will enjoy it!! 😇

Also many thanks to @misssmephisto who always supports me and who helped me a lot with this fic!!! 💜💖💜💖💜

Lenore Osgood x fem!reader

Word count: ~5k

The moment you saw Lenore Osgoode for the first time the whole world simply stopped existing. People around you, models, photographers, former and possibly new clients, even your nervousness - caused by the very first fashion show of yours, was long forgotten, as you watched the gorgeous blonde taking a seat at the audience, right in the first row. She didn't quite fit with the rest. She was fabulous.  No other in the room stood a chance with her. Self confidence radiated from every fibre of her body, not to mention that one look was enough to tell she was an enthusiast of refined style. She was with no doubt upper class. Her outfit itself indicated that she was one of those filthy rich people. Normally you tried to stay away from them, not feeling well in their company, yet this one time you were ready to make an exception. Who could ever blame you? Lenore truly distinguished herself and looked absolutely stunning dressed in a long, red dress and a mink coat. 

She was beautiful and tall - you could put on her whatever you would want to and it would drape perfectly, only adding to her captivating charm. But clothes were more than that - for you at least. It wasn’t just about materials draping nicely or the person looking good. You considered clothes to be a person’s second skin. A layer supposed to not only cover all the imperfections, but also hide their dark secrets and sins, at the same time giving out a hint of their attitude. And that particular approach of yours combined with your skills made you an exceptional designer and  a wonderful seamstress. On the other hand though, it made you misunderstood by many people - especially your fellows - which seemed to be the dark, less nice side of your profession, but you didn’t care about it at all. You were too busy, positively bedeviled with work, to spare your precious time to think about it.

As your eyes set on Lenore you immediately knew that you wanted nothing more, but to dress her up in all the finest materials you could get. Tailor her clothes to fit whatever was her guilt, to match the darkest parts of her soul. You looked her up and down, for what felt like a hundredth time that evening, and still you couldn’t get enough. You were ready and highly likely to come up with yet another project just like that. You knew for sure it would be something different. It had to be special, exclusive, hand-selected, designed just for her and as spectacular as the woman appeared to be.

The images of Lenore in taffeta and silk kept crossing your vivid imagination. You were just having some debate with yourself on what colour would suit her best, though much to your dismay you were brought back to reality by one of the assistants working there with you.

“Miss Y/L/N, we have a little problem backstage”

You turned towards the young man, resigning from watching the blonde and reluctantly giving your full attention to the man. 

“I’m coming” you nodded and - after glancing at Lenore one more time - you followed him to find out what kind of problem he was talking about.

~~~~

Lenore sat and watched, but she didn’t even bother to pretend she was interested. She had a sense that being there was just a waste of time. And as a worldly woman that she beyond any doubt was - she hated wasting her time, especially in places like that.  Shabby and tasteless. Full of inelegant, crude people who tended to get above themselves way too often, while in reality they had absolutely no idea what true sophistication and fashionability were. They came there to watch the show, but it had nothing to do with them being interested in fashion. It was just another way of exposing their self-importance. Lenore knew it better than anyone, but that was all right with her. She used to be like them too, though she no longer needed to prove anything to anyone. That's why for her being there was more like a torture.

If it hadn’t been for her impulsive and capricious decision to fire her tailor she wouldn’t even think of attending such a ridiculous event like a fashion show in a small, prospectless town. What could she possibly see there? Nothing. Those were simple people, not accustomed with high standards and clearly not ready for any fashion revolutions. Lenore hadn’t expected anything spectacular. There was no use in getting her hopes up, since she was there only because she needed a new seamstress. Enjoying the show was far from probable and she was well aware of it. Yet she went and stayed there. Fairly sick to death, but determined, hoping that if she put up with all the inconveniences, she would manage to find what she was looking for. 

Cheap clothes and shoddy jewellery - was all she got to see for the first hour or so and that was enough to drive her crazy. Lenore wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. Those people's taste or rather lack of it - cried to heaven. Calling something like that a fashion show appeared to be some barbarous jape. And at that point Lenore was fed up and ready to leave. It was so naive of her to envisage witnessing something groundbreaking, but there was still one more line of clothes supposed to be walked out - and that was it. A real breakthrough. Something out of the ordinary. Something that Lenore wanted, but didn’t know it before.

She watched - suddenly interested in everything that was happening on the runway. Models walked down one after the other, then disappeared, but each one of them - presenting another outfit, left Lenore even more astonished than the previous one. 

Lenore Osgood had always been a material girl, but she felt no remorse about it. Clothes were her own kind of cakes and ale and she felt no shame choosing the perfect fabrics and jewelry that would suit her fancy, after all she had enough money to afford whatever she desired.

At that point all she wanted was that one particular line of clothes. The show wasn’t over yet, but Lenore already knew she was going to be the one to buy all those outfits. She kept waiting though - well aware that the last outfit was supposed to be the most extraordinary one. However she didn’t get to see it, as instead of the last model some man appeared on the runway - informing there was going to be a short break, because they had some problem. 

Lenore huffed. She had never been a patient person and so - obviously - she wasn’t going to wait like others.The heiress stood up, flicked her long coat and not paying any attention to people - who intently observed her every move, not even trying to be discreet- she headed out to the backstage. She couldn’t care less about the rules or the fact that unauthorized people weren’t allowed there. It did not apply to her - that was how Lenore perceived every prohibition she encountered. She had never been the one to care much for the commonly accepted norms. She simply did what she pleased, completely unbothered by the possible consequences. Even more so at that moment - she just needed to meet the designer face to face. After all it didn’t happen often that someone managed to captivate her like that.

How surprised she was when instead of a man - as she incorrectly assumed the artist to be a male - her eyes set on you - a young woman. That’s when her amazement doubled. 

At first Lenore stopped, slightly confused. She didn't speak up immediately. You weren’t there alone and she couldn't interrupt you and deprive herself of the opportunity to watch you working.

Some young, very tall and skinny woman stood there next to you. Lenore figured it must have been the model, supposed to walk down the runway as the last one. Lenore examined the woman’s body and immediately noticed that the dress she was wearing did not quite fit her - that was the problem apparently.

Lenore stood a few meters away. Not too far, so that she could see what you were doing, but still not close enough for you to notice her presence.

The blonde observed how your hand reached for some pins and then how you put a few of them in your mouth.

"I'm sorry, Y/N" the model said, sobbing

"Please, stop apologizing. Everything is alright" you mumbled, not really able to speak, because of the pins you kept between your lips.

"I destroyed the dress..."

"You didn't destroy anything. Now calm down and let me fix this little malfunction" you said, crouching behind the girl.

You took a seam ripper in one hand and held the fabric of the dress with the other. Normally seam rippers were used to help with occasional mistakes, but you were prone to experimenting with different sewing tools. Necessity is the mother of invention - you often said. And just like that, in one swift move you ripped one of the seams - only to pin it back together with pins within seconds. Except after that little operation of yours the dress became a bit looser. Not too excessively, but just enough to fit the model. 

“See? It’s fixed.” you said, proudly looking at the result of your work and zipping the dress “Now, stop crying. There’s no need to cry” you reassured.

“But I couldn’t put it on…”

“Because it was too small”

“Exactly… I-I… I need to lose weight” she said in a breaking voice.

“No” you shook your head “Clothes are supposed to fit you, not the other way. Now go”

The woman nodded and rushed out, passing by next to Lenore, who was standing there with a cigarette in her hand - shamelessly checking you out.

“I must say, that was very impressive” the heiress stated, thereby making you aware of her presence.

You quickly turned around and were instantly met by the blue eyes and probably one of the most entrancing smiles you had ever seen. There she was. One and only Lenore Osgood in the flesh. You couldn’t help the gasp - she looked even better up close.

“I… Umm… Can I help you, madam?” you asked, internally scolding yourself for taking so long to say anything.

“Actually, you can, darling”

“I’m listening” you said, trying to act as natural as possible, despite the fact the nickname she used made your heart skip a beat.

Lenore pulled at her cigarette, then smiled - obviously pleased with your answer.

“You are the one who designed those close” she stated, but with a hint of uncertainty. 

“That’s right” 

“Well then, allow me to felicitate you. It was a wonderful show - the last part at least” she stated, rolling her eyes as she remembered how sorely dull the beginning of the event was.

“Thank you” you beamed at her words.

“You are welcome, darling” her smile got even wider - making you wonder if she realized what effect that goddamn nickname had on you.

“Now, let’s say I have an offer for you. What would you say if I asked you to work for me?” she continued.

How could you say no to her? You would most likely be out of your mind if you had denied such a proposal. Her invitation was one of those you could not and definitely did not want to decline. How could you do it after she bought all the outfits from your new collection - paying even more than they were actually worth. Not to mention that working for her was what you dreamed about ever since you saw her.

That's how you found yourself standing at the door of Lenore's mansion the very next day. She wanted to know what other ideas you had and see different projects of yours, so you took your binder and sewing planner with you. As you nervously waited for someone to open and let you in, you held the items tight, pressing them to your chest - as if they were some precious treasure.

"Miss Y/L/N? Come in, Ms Osgood is waiting for you" an older woman informed, as she led you inside.

You followed, looking around - taking in every detail of the house interior and trying to memorize it. You always held to a particular belief of the house being the image of its owner's soul. Some people found it ridiculous, but in that case it was true. Lenore's house was as superior, noble and remarkable as the heiress herself.

"Y/N!" the blonde called and you turned round. You immediately stopped, when you caught the sight of her.

Lenore was slowly descending the stairs - looking as gracefully as ever. You smiled to yourself, when you realized she was wearing one of the outfits that you created. You had never felt such joy and pride seeing your previous clients wearing something that you designed. But to be fair, none of them radiated with such regality as Lenore. No one could ever match her dignity or a sense of majesty, and apparently that was what made your projects look even more exquisite.

"Is it alright if I call you by your name, dear?" Lenore asked, stopping for a moment to allow her little monkey jump from her shoulder to the shoulder of the woman who let you in.

"If I'm allowed to call you by yours" you smiled.

"Absolutely, darling" the blonde said enthusiastically, as she moved towards you. A smirk appeared on her face, indicating that she did not miss the way you blushed at the nickname. "Let's sit down, shall we?" she suggested, pointing to a spacious room, where a white sofa and armchairs stood.

You nodded, as you moved to sit in one of the armchairs.

"Would you like something to drink, Y/N?" Lenore asked.

"Just a glass of water, please"

"Darce! Bring Y/N a glass of water" she ordered, clicking her fingers.

You shifted in the armchair. The woman in front of you made you feel nervous for some reason, but you tried to act professional.

"You wanted to see my projects, so I brought my binder…" you said, a bit hesitant.

"Wonderful!” she exclaimed, grinning “May I?" she asked, as she reached out for the item.

"Of course" you passed her the binder and then observed, as she intently studied each page.

"Your water, Miss Y/L/N" the older woman said, handing you the glass.

"Thank you" you smiled, carefully taking the vessel from her.

"What a talent and creativity!" Lenore praised, glancing at you with a smirk on her face, not paying attention to the other woman.

You smiled, taking a sip of the water - hoping it would actually help with calming your nerves.

Lenore spent almost an hour on deciding which of your projects she would like to get. She obviously liked them all, but she needed her clothes to be different. She needed them to be extraordinary, fancy and expensive. And so you suggested creating something just for her.

You were a hardworking person - used to staying up late to finish sewing different outfits. You always went all out and thereby made your clients satisfied, but with Lenore you wanted more. Making her satisfied simply didn't seem enough. You wanted to impress her, blow her away. Little did you know that the heiress already was spellbound - not only by your projects, but by you yourself.

Lenore had never met anyone who delighted her so much. Such manners, such a style and sophistication. Not to mention you were so extremely accomplished for your age. All that impressed her in a way, but also fascinated her. She was truly enchanted by you. No wonder. You had a peculiar background, attitude and approach to the real world. You were a rare sample and Lenore happened to like thinking of herself as a connoisseur. She liked uncommon things. That's why she desperately wanted to have a taste of that extraordinary, magical power that radiated from you. A taste of that particular thing that made you so special. Though before she decided to do anything, she needed to make sure you would not disapprove of her. Because rejection was something Lenore didn't take well.

Lenore figured out that taking things slow was a good thing to do. She decided to warm you up a little and make sure that she actually had a chance. She didn't want her intentions to be too obvious. Lenore had always been a little skeptical of displaying any sort of affection. She'd rather play around. Yet she couldn't deny it felt sort of different with you.

Lenore loved teasing you more than anything. You always seemed so stressed and flustered whenever you would come to her house to deliver yet another outfit - and she found it adorable.

~~~~

At first you would come to her house once a week. Each time bringing with you a different dress and a few of new projects for Lenore to have a look and either go with them or tell you what she would like you to change. She rarely wanted to make any adjustments though. Lenore appreciated all of your ideas - only occasionally asking you to make a particular outfit in different colour or use another kind of fabric than you had intended to at first, but she never criticised you. As a matter of fact, she was always praising you. Maybe even too excessively. She complimented basically everything about you - from your creativity and ideas to the way you dressed. It appeared that she knew exactly what to say to make you blush - of which she was not only aware, but also took pride in succeeding in doing it. However, as much as you loved it, you could not quite help all the worries that clouded in your head - when you began realizing that Lenore became someone more than just your client and boss.

It had been going on for months. You grew so used to spending time with her and designing clothes for her that at some point your life turned to be all about Lenore. Everything either reminded you of her or inspired you to make another outfit that would fit her and only her taste. Lenore and even her monkey became such a huge part of your life, that you couldn't picture yourself not doing all of the things  you were doing and you definitely could not stop thinking about Lenore. To say that it scared you would be an understatement. The realization of your true feelings made you freak out completely. So much so that you did not know what to do. So much so you couldn't act the way you used to before. That's why you decided to take a break - hoping it would help you distance yourself. 

You enforced your idea immediately - as instead of informing Lenore face to face, you called her.

"Ms Osgood, I need some time off for… personal reasons" you told her.

Lenore agreed of course, though that sudden phone call took her by surprise. She knew something wasn't quite alright, when you used her full name, but she didn't ask any questions.

She kept repeating everything that had happened the past week, yet she couldn't figure out what was actually going on. You had never taken time off before and the way you called whatever was happening - "personal reasons" caused her a lot of distress. What did that even mean? Were you in trouble? Was she supposed to do something? And why was she so worried about it?

At first Lenore tried to convince herself that she didn't really care. But she did. Her little game turned into something utterly different without her even realizing it. You turned out to be far more than just her seamstress and she appreciated you for more than only your brilliant mind or skills.

Lenore truly cared about you and missed you dearly. She missed your smile and seeing you blush at her compliments. She missed listening to you talking about your projects - so passionately. 

Lenore was a grown-up and experienced woman, however she had never felt the way she felt with you. With you everything was different, new. And whatever she desired at the very beginning changed.

While you locked yourself in your apartment and lost yourself in work - as an attempt to distance from her, Lenore kept thinking of all the ways she could get closer to you. She was so desperate, so lovesick that she - the great heiress was ready to beg, even bow before for you if that was what it took.

You didn't expect Lenore to turn up at your door. It had been three days, you were sure everything was on the right track and you would manage to cure yourself of your fascination. Though, the moment you opened the door and saw Lenore in all her glory, everything came right back to you. All your feelings hit you again - that time with doubled power.

"Lenore… w-what are you doing here?"

"It's nice to see you too, Y/N" she said, passing by you - not waiting for you to invite her inside.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down. How could anyone be able to make you feel so weak and yet so empowered at the same time?

Lenore walked in, then looked around your apartment. It wasn't too big, but she had to admit it was classy - you perfectly combined living space with workspace. But your flat wasn't what interested her the most. The heiress turned round to face you and offered you a cocky smile, as she took in your form. Lenore was used to seeing you in various dresses and heels, though that day you looked completely different. You were not only barefoot, but also instead of a dress, you had a white shirt and denim overalls on. Your hair was put in a messy ponytail and a measuring tape was draped around your neck - signifying that you were working.

"So, how can I help you?" you asked, not looking at Lenore.

The blonde smiled. "I was just passing by and thought I'd check on you"

"Check on me?" you repeated, raising your eyes.

"Yes" Lenore said calmly "Would you mind if I stay here for some time?"

"I-" you were about to protest, but it was too late, since Lenore sat down on one of the chairs and lit her cigarette.

"So, have you managed to resolve those personal reasons of yours?"

"Not really, I guess" you said, watching Lenore cross her legs.

The way you stared at her body didn't go unnoticed. Lenore didn't miss how flustered you got either, but she said nothing. It wasn't the right time - not just yet.

You sighed, approaching a table on which you had different materials laid. You got back to work, trying to ignore Lenore's presence. It was hard to focus on anything though. It was impossible when she was sitting there and watching you, but you kept trying anyways.

Lenore didn't speak for a few minutes. She simply enjoyed the moment - the possibility of watching you work and being around you in general.

"Is this a new project?" she asked, dragging on her cigarette.

"Actually yes. It's going to be your dress for the party that you're attending next month"

"Oh. Well, it looks nice"

You laughed at her words.

"It doesn't look like anything yet"

"I'm sure it'll be wonderful. Every project of yours is, darling"

You looked at her, not able to contain the smile caused by her compliment.

And that smile was what motivated Lenore to make the first step. 

"You know, I was thinking about you for the past few days," she began, as you focused on pinning the fabric together again.

"They don't appreciate you enough. I mean those men you're working with. They're wasting your potential. You should work for your own brand and not for theirs"

"Well…" you were about to say something, but Lenore cut you off.

"And I figured out there are two ways I could help you in"

"Yeah?" you said, but still didn't pay much attention to her words.

"Yes" Lenore stubbed her cigarette and stood up, as she continued "I could either become some kind of your patroness. This is the first option, but personally I like the second one more" she explained, as she stopped on the opposite side of the table.

"What's the second option then?" you asked, reaching for yet another pin.

"Well" Lenore smiled. You were still so oblivious "I could be your sugar momma" 

"Shit!" you cursed, as you accidentally hurt your finger with the pin "W-what?" you choked, looking at her. Your eyes were wide open, as Lenore approached you and carefully took your hand in her own. She then slowly brought the finger you had just cut to her lips and kissed it.

"I said…"

"No. I k-know what you said… I… I just…" you stuttered, not able to form any coherent sentence.

"Which option do you like better, sweetheart?" she asked in a low voice.

"I…" you gasped, staring at her lips.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak, so instead you leaned in and kissed her. You could feel how her lips formed a smirk and even though your eyes were shut at that point, you could see that damn sly smile.

"I was hoping you'd go with the second option" Lenore chuckled.

You wanted to respond to her words, but before you managed to regain the ability to think properly - Lenore lifted you up and made you sit on the table.

"Your dress…" you tried to protest, but were immediately cut off.

"I'd rather take you this time" Lenore said and captured your lips once again.

That definitely wasn't what you had expected when you accepted the job offer. You hadn't even dreamed about it. And even if you had, being so close to Lenore, feeling her warm hands on your body and her soft lips pressed against yours was beyond any wildest dreams you could ever have. 

Tag list: @midnight-lestrange, @natasha-danvers, @stopkillinglilyrabe, @welshdragonrawr, @saucy-sapphic, @yang12e, @xixxiixx, @pradababey

[swarmkeepers]

rickyesther 1 and/or figayda 21 for the prompt meme?

21. believing in you even when you couldn’t do it yourself + figayda (prompts linked here)

(some post-show hurt/comfort heavy on the hurt on the phoenix tour after sophomore year. thank you, anon, i find ayda very fun to write but this is my first figayda! i hope you like it. )

Fig knows she’s being unreasonable, knows that she’s being childish, knows that the skin-itchy hell-rumbling feels bad feels bad feels bad ripping through her mind right now is wrong and stupid and yet why can’t she stop thinking it.

That’s the thing about this particular kind of bad show—that she knows it was a bad show, and Gorgug knows it was a bad show, but if you hadn’t been listening to the same set for the days and days and days of tour for their second year now, you wouldn’t know. They keep the rebellious-happy smiles on their faces and they still jump and dance across the stage and the Infaethable Bass still makes glorious noise and Fig pours her heart out into a show even when from the very first chords she can feel it’s wrong, wrong, wrong. 

Fig doesn’t know if it’d be better or worse if no one else in the world knew it was a bad show, and she doesn’t know which one is true anyway. But inside her own head it’s grating and terrible and Fig barely held it together until they got up to the hotel room here before she let herself collapse, angry and upset and unreasonable and not caring or knowing about any of it. 

The roar of the crowd tonight felt like mockery when Fig could hear every ever-so-slight way her solos weren’t quite right, could feel her fingers scrabbling to turn a mistake into a riff when she screwed up, could feel the talk sets not quite landing even when she puts every point of her charisma into it. The stage spotlight effects were just the tiniest bit late, and it feels like a perfect and perverse kind of validation when Fig would rather have ripped their too-hot too-red glow off her face before they could highlight every mistake she made, every fake smile pasted on.

She’s being childish, but right now Fig has wedged herself under the desk in this hotel room that’s the same as every other hotel room for two years of tour. Her horns are scraping the underside of the desktop with an excruciating sound that just might as well happen, and her back is pressed into the mess of cords sprouting from the outlet under the desk, and Fig’s digging her pointed fingernails into her own knees as she hugs them tight and feels like a toddler in a tantrum, unsure if she wants to scream or cry or hide or demand attention or destroy things or walk out into the city and keep walking until she’s far far away. She kicked the rolling chair somewhere away and couldn’t tell you where it went for all the gold in Solace. 

Her bass doesn’t fit under here with her, and Fig’s tossed it on the bed with more upset carelessness than she’d ever usually show her instrument. Fig picks at the rips in her jeans and scowls out of the opening of her little desk den, an opening that feels too big, letting too much of the world in even when that world is just the bed across from the desk, with frumpy sheets and a bed skirt that’s the same as every other motel anywhere in Solace, which Fig knows from experience.

Gorgug knows it was a bad show, and Fig can faintly hear him in the bathroom on the phone with Zelda, quieter and lower than other nights on tour. He called his parents earlier, too—she heard him singing quietly to them over the phone. 

Ayda knows it was a bad show. Ayda was in the green room and in the audience tonight, watching Fig fall apart, knowing so much more than Fig knows all the time, deserving so much better than the mess that is Figueroth Faeth on stage and off. Ayda knows it was a bad show and she’s not even in the hotel room with Fig right now, having disappeared somewhere off down the hall. Fig was too angry and caught up in her own mind to pay attention, which is just another reason Ayda deserves better right now. Anywhere that Ayda is right now is somewhere better than dealing with Fig in all her skin-itchy unreasonable childishness right now.

There’s a little tic tic tic of giant talons on hotel carpet and a whoosh of fire-warm air as Ayda appears in the doorway, as infuriatingly and as luckily as if Fig had said her name thrice and summoned her. Fig keeps quiet and watches her girlfriend turn first one way, then the other, looking for her in a room with neither Fig nor Gorgug visible.

“I’m having a bad time, Ayda,” Fig says, voice quiet and hoarse both from the show and from whatever silent-sobbing-tantrum she’s been having under the desk. She doesn’t even know if she intends Ayda to hear it, but then Fig sees Ayda whip around and move towards the desk, even faster than walking as she beats her huge wings once to take a flying, bounding step.

Ayda doesn’t listen to any warnings Fig might try to give about how it’s “really a bad scene under here, you don’t want to see me like this” and just crouches down so she’s under the desk with Fig, spreading her wings to block out everything except the two of them in this ridiculous position. Fig can’t see anything except her girlfriend and her big concerned eyes darting around Fig’s face and her fiery wings blocking out the world for her. 

Fig doesn’t even say anything, just reaches out and scoots closer awkwardly on her butt on the floor in the small space. Ayda doesn’t need her to say anything, just tangles her legs with Fig’s and loops strong arms around Fig’s back, holding her close. Fig takes an angry, shaky breath and feels it push against Ayda’s arms.

“You’re upset,” Ayda says simply, fingers tracing a shape on Fig’s back as she waits to see if Fig wants to talk or just wants to be held. 

Fig hisses through her teeth, irritated but not wanting to take it out on her girlfriend who’s barely been here for half a minute and who’s already making her feel so much better. Ayda’s fiery hair and wings are the only light in this little space Fig’s wedged them into, and they’re casting bright bright light over the both of them. Fig reaches out and tucks her face right into the crook of Ayda’s neck, so close to the fire of her wings that she can feel their warmth. Fig can’t see anything except the curve of her girlfriend’s neck and a little bit of her back and flame, flame, flame. She wonders if there are tear tracks visible on her face. The nice thing about tiefling skin is that no one can tell if her eyes are red from rubbing at them; the nice thing about Ayda is that her girlfriend doesn’t need to be able to see them to tell something’s wrong.

“It was a bad show, Ayda,” Fig whispers almost too quietly to hear except that she’s doing it inches away from Ayda’s ear. “I hate this.”

“I’m not sure I understand?” Ayda says, fingers slowing on Fig’s back as she picks her words carefully. “You are the expert on this, and if you do not want to elaborate that is perfectly okay, but all of your shows are good ones to me.”

Fig turns her head so her cheek is resting on Ayda’s warm shoulder and says, “It’s just little dumb things going wrong. And that’s why I’m doing this dumb thing, which is sitting under a desk and thinking you don’t want to see me.”

Ayda’s fingers circle over the knobs of Fig’s spine through the leather jacket Fig hasn’t taken off. 

“That doesn’t seem dumb,” Ayda says. “I understand wanting to get away from the world when it feels like everything is going wrong. Under a desk is an excellent location, because it is dark and quiet and Gorgug is in the bathroom so you can have this space for yourself.”

“Oh, Ayda,” Fig breathes. Ayda keeps talking, and Fig watches just the corner of her jaw moves as she talks. Ayda talks to her gently, like you’d talk to a slightly skittish animal. Every part of Ayda looks soft and warm, including the fiery feathers tickling Fig’s face.

“Your lyrics are extremely meaningful. I have memorized many of them, but I am still impressed all the time that you have written all of them.” Ayda says it matter-of-factly, and Fig blames the way that the words make her want to cry on the fact that it’s just been an extremely emotional day. “You are a very accomplished musician, and an even better writer, and an even better person.” 

“You’re very smart, Ayda, but how am I supposed to believe you when I can’t even deal with one show going wrong?” Fig tries not to wail it. She doesn’t know if she succeeds. Ayda’s wings make a soft roar, the sound of air and flame, and Fig pretends that it’s loud enough to hide the tremor in her voice. The childish panic. 

“I do not need to believe in you. Belief implies that my trust in you is something constructed in my own mind, when it in fact is, as far as I have been able to tell, something I can back up with evidence and fact.” Ayda says, and Fig pulls back indignantly.

She whacks the back of her head on the wall behind her, but it’s worth it for the little smile she can see as she leans just a little away from Ayda.

Fig smiles back, and she believes it too. Or doesn’t need to. 

from the prompt list linked here! (i’m closing prompts from this particular list because i have so many ones to get through already, but thanks!)

[ahgaseda]

wolf boys || chapter 18

⇥ synopsis : being the young alpha female over a pack of misbehaving werewolves is no easy task and is made even more complicated when the time comes to choose a mate...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring violence or mentions of blood, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

You sat by the window, staring through the glass and letting out a whine in the back of your throat. There was a hole in your chest, left by Jaebeom’s absence, and only he could fill it.

You needed to know he was safe, but he had passed far beyond what you could sense and feel. The territory was expansive and he had neared the outskirts before your powerful bond with him faded. Your magic could only go so far at such distance between you. Only wisps of him reached you now. He was alive. And angry as hell.

It was misery, plain and simple. To go from spending every waking moment in someone’s arms, being tangled together, to being without him.

With another sigh, you let your head rest in your hand, eyes ever dutifully on the window waiting for a glimpse of him.

Mark approached, sliding in behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You welcomed his warmth, soothing your loneliness, and leaned back against his chest.

“How much longer?” you asked impatiently.

“You know Jaebeom,” Mark huffed with a comforting smile. “He won’t rest until the intruder is as far away as can be.”

“The male sensed I was in heat. I’m not in heat anymore.”

Mark interjected, “Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try to impress you with a display of violence. You’re an alpha female. Not many of you left.”

Your first instinct was to place a hand over your stomach at the mere mention of violence, but Mark tightened his arms around your waist, assuring you. The gesture never failed to make you smile. You brushed your palm over his arm in silent thanks.

Mark’s breath was hot on your neck before he placed his lips at the curve of your shoulder. You shivered, surprised at first to feel his kiss, all things considered. But you purred softly, letting him know the affection was not unwanted.

“Trying to distract me?” you asked sheepishly, tilting your head to give him more access.

Mark slowly trailed kisses up the side of your neck and rasped in your ear, “Is it working?”

“A little,” you replied, biting your lip.

Mark skimmed his teeth down the same path of his kisses across your flesh and you shuddered at how swiftly he made your pulse race.

The protective grasp of his hands around your stomach made you smile. The wolf boys would protect any baby you and Jaebeom made as if it were their own. It was a sacred law among packs.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, reaching to thread your fingers through his hair. Mark kissed and sucked at your neck, making you forget your misery for a moment.

The back door opened and you peered over to see Jinyoung and Jackson returning from their short rounds.

Jackson took one look at Mark’s precarious position and whined, “Oh, real slick.”

Mark pressed a chaste kiss at the base of your neck in farewell, replying coolly, “The sigma serves the alpha.”

“A serving of dick apparently,” Jackson retorted, glaring insincerely.

You would have laughed, but you were looking too intently at Jinyoung for a report.

Jinyoung met your expectant gaze and said, “I could sense him only for a second, he’s so far.”

Your shoulders slumped with disappointment.

“They’ve fought, but the other alpha isn’t conceding yet,” Jinyoung continued, not too terribly worried. “It may take a few rounds to drive him out.”

You glanced around at the boys and asked, “If I order one of you to go join him, would you listen?”

“Not this time, alpha,” Jackson replied softly, shaking his head in dissension. “Our priority is keeping you safe. Especially if you can’t phase if you’re pregnant.”

You glanced down.

“Sense anything yet?” Jinyoung asked curiously, taking the seat beside you as Mark headed for the kitchen.

“A tiny whisper,” you spoke quietly, failing to hide your sadness. “It was there and then it was gone.”

Jinyoung felt his heart aching. He wanted only to comfort you. “I know it’s easier said than done, but try to relax,” Jinyoung crooned, wrapping an arm around you and tucking you close. “It will happen.”

You buried your face against his neck, resisting tears. “I don’t know what I’ll do if it didn’t take,” you murmured, voice trembling.

They would never know what it was like. To have given so much of yourself and your magic in the hopes of creating a life.

You rose abruptly, agitated. The waiting was torture. Waiting for Jaebeom to emerge victorious and return home. Waiting for your baby to make itself known inside you.

“I’m going outside,” you barked, heading for the door in search of fresh air.

Jackson didn’t hesitate to move himself in your path, holding out a hand to block you. “I can’t let you,” he said gently, eyes sympathetic.

You rounded on him and snapped, “You can’t let me? Are you out of your mind, delta?”

At hearing his rank, Jackson lowered his head, trying to show submission and stifle your wrath.

Jinyoung called your name worriedly.

“Everyone has forgotten I am just as much alpha as he is,” you hissed, pushing past Jackson and shoving the door open.

As you trudged across the porch, Jackson breezed past you and landed on the lawn in his lupine form, ready to bar any further progress.

It hurt your pride, being treated like a helpless pup. You planted your feet and glared at his challenge, ready to put the stubborn wolf boy in his place. Then, you stopped, glancing down at your feet and then back at him.

You couldn’t phase.

A soft whimper left you. “I can’t...,” you whispered, on the verge of screaming your frustrations at the top of your lungs.

Jinyoung and Mark gathered behind you, not knowing what to do.

Tears streamed down your cheeks. “I can’t phase,” you cried, legs folding beneath you. On the stairs you sat, hiding your face in your hands.

Jackson approached tentatively before his eyes gleamed. Inching closer, the brown wolf pressed his nose to your stomach and his tail began to wag furiously.

“What are you doing?” you choked on a sob.

I smell it, he told you. Before I could only smell you, but now...

You blinked in surprise, cheeks hot with tears. He was in true form. His senses were stronger.

The wolf before you panted with excitement, stamping his paws. It’s not just you anymore, he said with glee.

Eyes wide, you turned and called, “Jinyoung?”

Jinyoung didn’t hesitate to become the grey wolf at your side and his nose twitched. He didn’t have to come any closer to say, I smell it, too. There’s another scent blended with yours.

You laughed in disbelief, rubbing away your tears with a fist. “How can you sense it before me? That’s not fair,” you quipped, trying to alleviate the tension you had caused.

The two wolves wagged their tails in unison.

Mark came forward, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you back inside. Jackson followed as the primary protector, while Jinyoung turned to the woods, let his head fall back, and howled to the winds.

Days passed.

You slept between Jackson’s furry outstretched paws. He lay himself in a crescent, shielding you with his massive body. Little pulses of magic would touch you when you least expected, and each time you would smile.

“Hi, little one,” you would whisper, knowing life had blossomed in your womb and your magic was pumping into their veins.

On the fifth day, you sat complacently in Jinyoung’s lap as he poured over yet another novel. His hands were warm and soft as they held you to him and you considered his chest to be your favorite pillow.

Then, your eyes snapped open. A scent tickled your nose.

Jinyoung grunted when you leapt off of him, watching you race to the back door. He began to call after you until he picked up on the scent too.

Smiling, you barreled outside in time to see the ebony wolf emerge from the trees. He took a single glance at you and groaned, warping in place until Jaebeom stood where the beast had been.

He was tired, that much was certain, but healing with every passing moment. You descended the stairs, eyes glistening with tears.

“Hello, alpha,” you greeted tenderly.

Jaebeom approached, scanning you from head to toe. You were a sight for sore eyes. Without warning, you took his face in your hands and kissed him deep. He was surprised at your eagerness at first, but collapsed into your embrace, relieved to be home at last.

The two of you broke away to look into each other’s eyes. Unspoken words passed between you and him. Then, you guided his hand to the soft plane of your belly.

Jaebeom froze in place.

“Do you sense it?” you asked gently.

Jaebeom had been so enraptured by you that he hadn’t yet noticed the tiny presence within you. Your scent had always been so strong, so powerful for an alpha female, but another scent was flourishing inside of yours. He pressed his broad hand to your stomach and tears pricked his eyes.

“I feel...,” he murmured, voice trembling.

You stroked your hand up and down his arm in comfort.

Jaebeom nuzzled your nose with his own, pressing his forehead to yours, and whispered, “I feel our baby.”

You smiled.

chapter 17 ⇤ chapter 18 ⇥ chapter 19

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[jobrookekarev]

I Remember it All Too Well Chapter 2

Chapter Two of Six: Now I'm in Exile, Seein' You Out

Words: 3000

Chapter Summary:  Alex goes to see Meredith in Seattle and catches a glimpse of Jo and Asher while they are staying with Meredith.

Story Summary: Alex knew from the moment he signed the divorce papers that leaving Jo and Seattle was the worst mistake of his life. As Alex works his way back to Seattle, he sees Jo again four times before she allows him back into her life.

Or

The four times Alex saw Jo after their divorce, and the one time they finally got back together with her, plus a soft epilogue.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Jo Wilson, Alex Karev, Meredith Grey, Zola Grey-Shepherd, Bailey Grey-Shepherd, Ellis Grey-Shepherd.

Rating: General Audiences

Additional Tags: Regret, Longing, Pining, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Foster Kid, Adoption, the Pandemic.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

……………………………………………………………………

Alex stared up at the big gray house in the Queen Anne neighborhood, suddenly afraid to go up to it. It was never a feeling Alex had before, the house had always been home or at least a place that could be home. The frat house was always open to him, even when Meredith hated him, but so much had changed in the past year since he left. Meredith still called him, at first it was just to yell at him for what he’d done, but then they started talking again. However, it wasn't like it was before. 

They were still friends, but Alex could tell that Meredith was still mad at him. She told him that in the divorce, she was taking Jo’s side. That she loved Alex but, she couldn't stand how he had left Jo for Izzie. Alex couldn’t help but love Meredith even more for that because he had left Jo alone and he was glad she had Meredith. The one thing Meredith told him that Jo wasn’t mad at him for doing was leaving to be with his kids. He had left to be a father to his kids and Jo understood why, just as he knew she would. Alex loved Eli and Alexis and he didn't regret a second of his life with them. However, he did regret leaving Jo and Seattle to do it. 

Alex had screwed everything up, everything with Jo and Meredith in Seattle and everything with Izzie, Alexis, and Eli in Kansas. So here he was back at the start trying all over again to do what he should have done from the start. Things with Izzie had gone from bad to worse and they were officially separated. Alex was hoping that the week he had the kids he could have them in Seattle. He had missed Meredith and his work at Pac North. He'd missed Seattle, it felt like nothing made sense in Kansas. Seattle was his home, but it wasn't just the city that he missed. He missed his family, especially Meredith.

Alex worked up the courage to walk up and knocked on the glass of the front door. He waited until he heard Zola yell that she would get the door and smiled at the thought of seeing his niece again. The glass door swung open and there stood Zola. A year older and nearly half a head taller than he remembered her. Her jaw dropped when she saw him and she smiled.

Zola jumped up to wrap her arms around him as she hugged him. “Uncle Alex you're back! I knew you'd come back, wait you are back, right?”

“Well, I'm hoping to be?” Alex said, as she squealed and pulled him into another hug. The baby girl that he brought over from Africa with the surgery program would always have a special place in his heart.

“Good, we miss you a lot, especially Mom and Aunt Jo,” Zola said as Alex finally sat her down. 

“Really, Jo missed me too?” Alex asked, he got bits and pieces from Meredith and his mother, but they were still hesitant to tell him about Jo. Alex didn’t push it as he tried to respect her privacy. 

“Well not at first,” Zola said, going quiet and she looked back into the house through the open door. “It was Mom who missed you and me too, a whole lot!”

“Well I'm hoping to move back to Seattle and I'm looking for a place to live, you think I could be your roommate again,” Alex teased her and he put his hand on Zola's head. Something that was a little awkward as she was so tall now. 

“Yeah, you could take Aunt Maggie’s old room and Aunt Amelia and Uncle Link have moved out too, I'll go get Mom,” Zola said, excitedly running inside and leaving the door open.

Alex looked at the clear frosted door as he remembered seeing Jo dressed up as Tinkerbell on the other side. After she admitted she was wrong about his father, that was the moment he realized she wasn’t just a woman that he loved. Jo was worthy of forgiveness. Out of all the women he had ever dated Jo, was the one person who had always admitted her faults to him. In return, he did the same, and throughout their relationship together they worked to fix things whenever they messed things up.

Alex remembered opening the door on their wedding day and seeing her in curlers, waving around a piece of paper, and jumping around with excitement at the prospect of getting the Mass-Gen Fellowship. He remembered how she couldn't stop kissing him and she got so excited that she kissed Arizona as well. Alex missed her kisses and he missed the way her smile would brighten his day.

Alex lingered in the doorway for a moment staring into the house that was once his home. Although Zola had probably intended for him to wait, Alex walked into the entryway to the house. It was still the same except for a few new pieces of furniture and toys scattered around. He could hear multiple voices in the house including Meredith and Zola talking in the kitchen. Then Bailey and Ellis came running around the corner. They shrieked excitedly when they saw him. Alex bent down to pick them up, swinging them around in excitement as they laughed. 

“We missed you, Uncle Alex,” Bailey said, wrapping his arms around Alex's waist and giving him a tight squeeze as he tried to squeeze Alex’s guts out like he always did.

“I missed you too and I can see you've gotten stronger,” Alex managed to say as Bailey squeezed him too tightly.

“I miss you too, Uncle Alex,” Ellis said, giving him a kiss on his cheek. 

“I missed you too, Ellie belly,” Alex said, leaning down to kiss her head. 

“Alright let your Uncle Alex breathe,” Meredith said, putting her hand on Bailey's back. “Zola, could you take your siblings upstairs for a minute?”

“But Mom,” Zola whined, looking over at Meredith with puppy dog eyes. 

“You can come back in a second, just let me talk to Uncle Alex for a moment,” Meredith smiled at Zola and ushered her upstairs.

Alex put the kids down and they reluctantly went upstairs, giving him one last wave before they all disappeared upstairs. Meredith then pulled him into a hug for the first time in a year. The person Alex was looking forward to seeing the most was Meredith. They had been through so much together and she was a constant in his life for the past sixteen years. Meredith had always been family, she was his best friend and she was like a sister. She crawled in his bed at midnight and went on and on about her marriage and her life and her career. As much as Alex hated it, he missed it. He had no idea how he made it through the past year without her. Without Meredith, he didn't have anyone on his side. Fighting with Izzie the past year had made him realize that he needed his family, Meredith, more than anyone. Meredith pulled back and put her hands on his shoulders as she looked him over. 

“You look older, tired too, and grayer,” Meredith said as she reached up to stroke the gray strands of hair that had developed in his beard.

“Gee thanks,” Alex said, despite how he knew that it was true. The past year had been hard and his body reflected that. 

“You're welcome,” Meredith said with a laugh as she hugged him again. 

The sound of a baby excitedly screeching as they continued to loudly babble, caused Meredith to look back at the kitchen. 

“Is that Scout? Is Amelia here?” Alex asked, smiling at the thought of seeing her, Amelia was like a little sister to him and he was excited to see her too. 

Alex walked over to the kitchen before Meredith protested. He paused in the hall as he realized that it wasn't Scout babbling. Jo was standing in the kitchen with Asher who babbled she held him close to her chest and just stared at Alex. Their eyes met and he looked her over. Jo’s long and dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail that cascaded down her left shoulder. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and she looked so good. She looked like a natural mother with Asher in her arms and he just stared at her. 

Jo had that expression on her face, her eyes were a little wide and her mouth formed a little o. It was the same expression that he had seen across her face a million times when she was a little hopeful, but a little hesitant. It was the same expression she had when she knocked on the door of Meredith's house. After DeLuca had recanted his statement and the assault charges against him were dropped. She had hugged him, clinging to him for a moment before she pulled back and walked away. Seeing her expression now, Alex knew that Jo was happy to see him, but she wasn't ready to take him back. However, it gave him hope that he could repair his relationship with her again. 

“Hi Jo,” Alex said, the words falling out of his mouth before he realized it. 

His voice seemed to break the spell she was under as Jo blinked and inhaled a shaky breath. She turned her head to look away from him and Alex could see the tears collect in her eyes. It broke his heart to see her cry and know that he had caused her pain. Jo brushed away the tears and turned around to face the sink.

“Alex, please,” Jo asked him, and she didn't need her to elaborate to know what she wanted. 

“I'm sorry, I'll go,” Alex said, turning away from her as Jo let out a sob and Asher started fussing in her arms. His presence had made her cry and Alex hung his head as he walked past Meredith who just sighed. 

“Come on, let's go talk outside on the porch swing,” Meredith said, putting a hand on his back, she glanced back at the kitchen with a worried expression, but led him back outside. 

Alex knew that coming back would mean seeing Jo again, but he never wanted to push her boundaries. He realized that it was a mistake to show up to the house unannounced, and vowed never to do it again. Meredith put an arm around Alex’s shoulders and led him over to the porch swing where he collapsed. He looked out onto the street as the Seattle rain that he had missed so much started to fall. Alex swallowed as a lump swelled up in his throat. He closed his eyes taking a second to breathe as he tried not to cry as well.

The last time he ever heard Jo’s voice was on the video call she had made to his mom. Alex could still hear how excited she was as she sat down to talk to Helen. However, the last time Jo had spoken to him was the voicemail she had sent him before he sent out the divorce papers. Jo was crying and begging him to tell her what was going on because she loved him so much that she would jump in front of a bear for him. All of her last words to him had replayed in his mind over the past year. Her last I love you, her last, I miss you, her last words pleading him to talk to her. Alex didn't know what to expect from the first time he talked to Jo, but he wasn't surprised at this. 

“Will you tell her I'm sorry, I didn't know she would be here and I wouldn't have come if I knew she was,” Alex said, finally looking over at Meredith just who nodded.

“Jo’s staying with me for a little while. Now that the adoption has been finalized, and the pandemic is mostly over she’s looking for a house for herself and Asher,” Meredith said, with a sad smile as they sat back and stared at the rain together. “She's rented the loft to Levi, as he was staying with her after you left. If I'd known you were coming I would have asked you to come at a later time while she was at work or out.”

“No, it's okay. You shouldn't make Jo leave just because I want to see you. If she’s staying with you, I won't come by again. Just tell Zola, I’ll be her roommate another time,” Alex said with a slight smile as he sat back and rocked the swing back and forth.

“Come by again?” Meredith asked as she returned his smile with one of her own. “Does that mean Zola was right, you're coming back to Seattle?”

“Yeah I am or at least I hope so. Izzie and I have 50/50 split custody of the twins, and I just couldn't stay in Kansas anymore. I had to come back. Seattle's my home, you're my home, you're my family. I want my kids to grow up with you as their Auntie Mere. I talked to Bailey this morning, she's hesitant to give me my job back, but I guess the pandemic made everyone realize the need for more hospital management. I'll still be a Peds attending, but she’s also offered me a position as her Vice-Chief. I guess it's my best option since Pac North blew up while I was gone.”

“Yeah, pretty much everything blew up after you left.”

“I'm sorry, I was an asshole to you and to Jo. I left and I know that you two had each other, but I was her husband. I promise to be there for her and I wasn't,” Alex said looking back at her from where he had been staring at the rain. “I know that when I left I hurt you two. I promised to be your person and I wasn't.”

“After you left I realized I had more people that cared about me and I had Jo. We kinda spent the whole year talking shit about you, and boy did we talk shit,” Meredith said with a laugh as she nudged his shoulder, and Alex couldn’t help but smile and laugh as well. He was an ass and he deserved all of the bad words they exchanged. “But in the past year, I've forgiven you and I missed you. I'm glad you're back.”

“Thanks, me too,” Alex said as he nudged her back and smiled. 

He turned and looked in the window that looked into the kitchen. He could see Jo smiling and holding Asher as she sang to him. The sweet lullaby barely reached his ears but he could still make out the lyrics of the song. She had Asher laying in her arms as she lulled him to sleep. Jo swayed back and forth in the way he’d seen so many mom’s sway to comfort their babies. Alex always knew that she would be an amazing mother and she seemed so utterly content with the baby in her arms. He was happy for her. All he wanted for her when he left, was for her to find happiness and it seemed like she did.

“Jo seems really happy.” 

“She is, but she’s still pretty mad at you. There's something else you should know, Jo's an OB-GYN now. I'm only telling you this because I know how often Peds and OB overlaps. She switched specialties last May and she just finished her fellowship with Carina,” Meredith explained as she also looked back at Jo with a smile. “At first I thought she was crazy to quit surgery, but she's studying fetal surgery as well, and we still work together on the mini-livers.”

“Oh wow,” Alex said, as he looked between Jo and Meredith. “And she’s happy, being an OB, it's what she wants?”

“It is and she's happy. I think she loves being an OB more than she loved general surgery, and she's such an amazing OB, Alex. She cares for her clients and their babies so much and she’s doing this amazing research on endometriosis. She took your hospital shares and started sitting in on board meetings. She’s really good with that sort of thing and we gave her an official board seat a few months ago,” Meredith said as she talked, she seemed so proud of Jo, and then she gave a little shrug. “Maybe it's better that she saw you today. That way Jo can get used to you being here and then when you two see each other at work it won't be so awkward.”

“Yeah,” Alex said with a nod and a little smile. “Maybe it is better.”

He looked back at Jo and Asher. He was looking forward to the chance to work with her again and now that she was an OB maybe he could see her more often. He wasn't sure how much she would allow him to work with her, but he’d take it slow. Alex would respect if Jo didn't want him on her cases. 

He hoped that she would at least give him the chance to explain why he divorced her and why he made the choices he made. He didn’t expect her to forgive him. He knew that he didn’t deserve her forgiveness, this time around. He knew she had a whole life without him, and Alex was happy for her. Alex left her and Jo moved on. He wouldn’t try to ruin her happiness by inserting himself into her life.

[riversongg]

Pairing: Castiel / Dean Winchester 
Warnings: Swearing (Is this a warning?)
 Word Count: 1087
 A/N: This is something I wrote a while ago and planned to post as a later chapter of a fic I started, but due to work/life commitments I haven’t been able to post in that fic as much as I would have liked, so instead I am just posting it here today to celebrate the 2021 Valentine’s day Destiel wedding!!!If you enjoy I would LOVE to hear what you think! 
 Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day after the events of Season 15 except Cas came back and no one dies. Dean and Cas get married and everything is soft.

Dean snuggles into Castiel, his arm around Dean’s shoulders where they lie. Dean has no idea how he ended up as the little spoon, but he’s too happy to care. He reaches up to Castiel’s chest, intertwining their fingers. He revels in the moment, in the feeling of pure happiness. But it’s more than that. He knows happiness, he’s felt it before. It’s a rare feeling, sure, but what he’s feeling right now is beyond happiness. It’s something he doesn’t think he has ever felt before.

Peace. 

He breathes slowly, deeply, closing his eyes and simply existing in Cas’s arms. He pulls Castiel’s hand to his lips and kisses the ring that is now sitting on the ex-angel’s finger. It’s cold against his lips, the silver standing out against the warmth of his husband’s skin.

“Mr Winchester,” Dean says with a smile. 

Dean feels Castiel untangle his hand from his as he reaches to cup Dean’s jaw. 

“Dean,” Cas says, his voice full of more warmth and love than Dean ever imagined he deserved. But he does. He deserves this. He deserves Cas. He leans towards his husband and their lips meet in the middle, soft and chaste but sure. A promise lingering between the two of them. A promise of tomorrow. A promise of every day after. They breathe each other in, eyes closed, content to exist in each other’s orbit.

“I don’t think I will ever be ready for this day to end,” Dean says as he pulls away. He leans back against his husband’s chest, hooking his left hand around Cas’s thigh. The arm around his shoulders gives him a squeeze, tight and reassuring.

“I know,” Cas says simply. “Today was the best day of your life.” Dean shoves him teasingly. “You know it’s true. Everyone you have ever loved, all in one room. Everyone happy, no pain…” He pauses. “Except when Crowley decided it would be a good idea to try karaoke.”

“Heh,” Dean laughed. “Yeah, no one needed to experience that, no matter what they have done to deserve it.” They smiled at the memory of that evening, a drunken ex-King of Hell swaying on stage to a terrible rendition of Air Supply’s All Out of Love. 

After a few minutes Cas presses a soft kiss into Dean’s hair. “You will see them all again tomorrow, you know.” Dean nods. “And Jack has given them all the choice to stay.”

“Cosmic consequences be damned,” Dean quotes, “yeah, I remember.” He sighs. When they told their son that they would be getting married, Jack had told Cas and Dean that he wanted to do something for them, a gift, to make their wedding the best possible day in existence. He’d been away for a while, busy revamping Heaven. Changes were coming, they could all feel that. 

Dean first understood the shift in their reality when Jack told them that he had offered all monsters on Earth the option to be “cured”. He had said that he didn’t want to force a cure on them, that it wouldn’t be fair to those who lived a good life. “Like your friend Garth,” he had told Dean, his face so earnest and hopeful. 

Jack explained that Purgatory would cease to exist. The afterlife would not be the same. Any demons in Hell who wanted to start again as a human would be given the chance. Everyone else would simply exist no more.

And the same thing was going to happen to Heaven. Dean remembers the way it felt when Jack had told him that the souls in Heaven would simply drift away into nothing, the way his heart felt like someone had taken ahold of it and squeezed, never letting go. 

But of course, Jack, kind and good as he is, had one surprise up his sleeve.

Everyone that Sam and Dean and Cas had ever loved, had ever cared for, had been brought back. “Cosmic consequences be damned,” Jack had said with a bright smile. “This is how it is meant to be.” 

Dean had felt happier and lighter than he ever had before. Everyone. They were all coming back. Holding Charlie in his arms, sobbing into her hair as she stroked his back had been a weight lifted. 

There had been a very strange reunion between Sam and Jess, especially when he introduced Eileen into the mix. 

Even John Winchester had been brought back. Castiel punched him on the nose in principle, breaking one of his fingers. That had been a fun trip to the hospital. 

“You will never be ready to say goodbye to any of them,” Cas says. “I understand.” 

For the most part, everyone was excited to stay on Earth, give living another go. Not many people get a chance at a redo, and this would be the last time anyone would ever come back. But Jack didn’t want to force people to come back. He had explained it would be unfair, especially after he understood how painful and difficult it had been for Mary that first time.

Some people had decided not to stay. They would stay for the wedding, for one last hurrah, of course. But on February 15th they would be saying goodbye.

Forever. 

“Hey, Cas?” 

“Yes, Dean?”

“You know I love you, right?” He hates how insecure he sounds. Cas laughs, his voice low and quiet.

“I think the fact that we just got married in front of all of our loved ones, Dean, tells me how much you love me.”

“Okay,” he says. “Just checking.”

“I love you too,” Cas says, “more than anything.” 

And Dean leans in again, kisses his husband with all the love and passion his body can muster. He wants to show Castiel just how much he is loved, cherished, valued. He wants to make his husband feel good, and happy, and pure. 

Things quickly become heated between the two of them, and as Dean sinks into Cas, becoming enraptured and enveloped in their passion, he allows his mind to drift back to earlier that day, to the one moment he never wants to forget.

Dean stands in front of his husband to be, hands joined tight between them. The Roadhouse has somehow been rebuilt - Dean reminds himself to thank the kid for that later - everyone he has ever loved sat in one room. Dean never imagined that something like this would even be possible. But here he was, standing before the person he loved the most in the world, ready to tell the whole world. 

“Castiel,” Claire says, because for some reason she insisted on officiating, “I believe you have prepared your own vows.” Cas nods to her, his face stoic and serious. Dean watches as he takes in a deep breath, preparing for the speech he has prepared.

“Everything I have done since the day I pulled you out of Hell has been done for you,” Cas begins. “Because of you. The good, the bad…” He trails off, a small smile growing on his face. He looks down, away from Dean, and lets out a small huff of laughter. “Yes I may have been misguided at times, made some bad choices.” His eyes reach Dean’s again. “But I did everything for you. All I ever wanted was a better world for you, Dean Winchester. I wanted to create a world that you would be proud of.” Dean squeezes Cas’s hands even tighter. 

“Dean.” Cas says his name so simply. It’s just one word, one small syllable. But the way he says those four letters speaks so much love and affection into the world that a part of Dean wants to run from it. It has taken him a long time to accept that he does deserve the kind of love that Castiel, ex-angel of the lord, and love of his life is offering, but sometimes Dean doesn’t know how to truly comprehend that he is allowed this kind of happiness. 

“I know for the longest time you have thought that I have only stayed by your side out of obligation,” Cas continues. “You feel, you worry, that I think I owe you something, and that is the reason why I stay. You taught me how to love. You taught me how to care, how to be human. 

“I know you still sometimes think that I stick around because it’s convenient. But every day, every moment of my life, it is an honour to be able to exist in your orbit. Knowing you has been the biggest pleasure of my life. Simply standing here, getting to exist next to you… It would be more than enough to make me happy until the end of time. But getting to be with you, to hold your hand, to look into your eyes, to exist with you, that is more than I could have ever dreamed.” 

Cas is well into his speech now, and Dean definitely does not feel his through tightening, a tear forming in his eye. Definitely not.

“I knew a long time ago that I intended to spend the rest of my life loving you. I have told you before that I learned to love everyone, the whole world, Sam, Jack, our family, because of you. But my love for you… That’s something I will never be able to quantify. It’s not only a part of me, but it has made me who I am. And I am so grateful that you have given that to me.”

Dean can feel his heart beating now, harder than it has ever beat before. 

“I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, Dean Winchester. If you’ll have me, I want to do it by your side, holding your hand as we walk Miracle, kissing you good morning despite your awful morning breath,” - that earns a chuckle from their audience- “pretending I like Led Zeppelin more than I actually do,” -and that earns a protested “Hey!” from Dean, a chuckle from Sam, and an understanding nod from Jack- “practicing my baking skills until I make the perfect pie… all of it. I want all of it with you.” 

“You are not only the love of my life, Dean. You are my life. My love, my joy, I would never have understood any of it if not for you. If you will have me, I will spend every day in the rest of my existence thanking you.”

And then Castiel turns back to Claire, giving her a small nod to indicate that he is finished. Everyone is quiet. Everything is still. No one moves.

Claire clears her throat and turns to Dean. 

“Well, shit Cas,” Dean says finally, a laugh escaping as a single tear manages to escape, “how the fuck am I supposed to follow that?”

Everyone laughs. And everything is perfect.

Read on AO3. Credit to @sunforgrace​ for the banner

[longitudinalwaveme]

Merry, the Boy Wonder

The multiverse is filled with endless possibilities. For example, in our universe, it was Dick Grayson whose parents, a pair of circus performers, were killed by gangsters in Gotham City, and who subsequently became the first sidekick to the mysterious Batman. But what if things had gone a bit differently? What if, instead of Dick Grayson, it had been one James Jesse whose family had performed in Gotham that fateful night? This is the story of the world where that happened….

“Great news, Helen! Haly’s Circus had to pull out of their planned appearance in Gotham City due to a scheduling conflict, so our circus has been called in to take their place!” Giovanni Giuseppi, known better to the non-carny world as James Jesse, the youngest member of the Death-Defying Jesses, looked up from his book at his father’s exclamation. 

“Really? That’s wonderful!” His mother replied. Giovanni grinned. This was perfect! Not only was being offered to perform in a huge city like Gotham a sign that Big Circus had finally, well, hit it big (pun completely intended), but it also meant that he would be able to perform with his new airwalker shoes in front of a much larger crowd than he had expected. 

“We’ve finally made it, darling! This the Death-Defying Jesses’ first step on the road to worldwide renown!” With that, his parents kissed, and Giovanni made a face. True, he himself had made out with Alessia, a cute knife-thrower, two days ago, but when his parents did it, it was just weird. 

“This is awesome! Today, Gotham City, tomorrow, the world!” he exclaimed. His mother laughed. 

“Well, we hope so, Giovanni,” she said. 

“We’ll be leaving Happy Harbor and heading for Gotham tomorrow morning, son, so I expect you to get a good night’s rest. No staying up late to read about that outlaw Jesse James, understand?” his father added. 

“I understand,” Giovanni replied, crossing his fingers behind his back. 

“I’m glad to hear it, Giovanni. Your father and I don’t want you to get any ideas from those books of yours,” his mother said. Giovanni had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Marcello, a joey, and Georgio, who ran a garbage joint, had been teaching him how to cheat at cards and perform sleight-of-hand tricks since he was five years old. If anything was going to cause him to become a delinquent, it wasn’t going to be history books about Jesse James. 

“I won’t, mamma.” 

“In that case, you need to get to bed. It’s already almost 11 o’clock,” his father said.

“Already?” Giovanni asked. 

“Yes,” his father replied sternly. 

“Oh, all right. Night, mamma. Night, papá. Love you,” Giovanni said. With that, he went to his bed, and, after about thirty minutes of reading his latest book under his bed covers with the aid of a flashlight, he fell asleep, mind filled with images of his airwalkers, applauding crowds, and one very pretty knife-thrower. 

Giovanni woke up at six the next morning and spent the next three hours helping the other members of the circus prepare for the jump. Once everything was prepared, the entire circus spent the next three and a half hours traveling from Happy Harbor to Gotham City. Giovanni spent this time alternatively reading, bugging his parents, and tinkering with his airwalker shoes. When the jump concluded, the circus burst into action again, setting up the big top and the joints, unloading the baggage wagons, distributing all the props, and generally preparing for the opening night of Big Circus’ date in Gotham. In fact, Giovanni was so busy that, although he saw almost every member of the circus, including the ringmaster, while helping to set things up, he didn’t see his parents again until two o’clock in the afternoon. By seven-thirty, however, even the business of setting up a circus came to an end, and Giovanni was free to search for Alessia. Giovanni was passing by one of the floss joints when he heard a voice he didn’t recognize. Curious, he snuck closer, then hid behind one of the gilley wagons. 

“And if you pay us, we protect you. Get it, Chandler?” Chandler was the owner of the circus. 

“Yes. I get it. You’re gangsters! It’s a protection racket! If you don’t leave immediately, I’ll call the police!” Chandler replied. 

“You don’t want to die, do you? Be sensible. Pay us and protect your show from “accidents”,” a second unfamiliar man said. 

“Get out! Big Circus does not make deals with criminali!” That time, it was Alessandro, Alessia’s father and the ringleader of the circus, who spoke. 

“Alessandro is right. I won’t pay your kind for protection,” Chandler added. 

“Okay, buddy. It’s your funeral. But remember...accidents will happen,” the first unfamiliar man replied. With that, he and his companion walked away. Slightly concerned, but confident that Chandler and Alessandro would be able to handle the problem, Giovanni decided to continue his search for Alessia. He found her a few minutes later, and the two spent the next three hours chattering excitedly about the next day’s upcoming performance, making out, and eating floss before returning to their respective trailers. By the time he entered his home and bid his parents good night, Giovanni had forgotten all about the gangsters who had visited the circus. 

At five fifty-five  the following evening, the entire circus was in an uproar. The show would begin in only five minutes, and everyone was running around trying to find costumes, props, and other kinkers. 

“Where are my knives?” Alessia asked. 

“I don’t know. Where was the last place you put them?” 

“Right here. But they’re not there anymore!”

“I’m hungry!”

“Then you should’ve visited the pie car an hour ago!” 

“I found your knives, Alessia!” 

“Where were they?”

“Under my clown costume.” 

“We’ve got a straw house tonight! Every seat is filled!” someone shouted. Giovanni’s father beamed and turned to his mother.

“You hear that, Helen? This is it. We’re going to be famous,” he said. As he fiddled with his airwalker shoes, Giovanni grinned, too. He couldn’t wait to show his family-and the world-his new death-defying tricks! 

“I heard, Jacob.” 

“Giovanni, I’m so nervous! What if I’m awful?” Alessia asked. 

“Don’t worry, Alessia. I’ve seen you practice. You’re terrific,” Giovanni replied. 

“Thanks, Giovanni. You’ll be terrific, too,” Alessia said. 

“Alessia, don’t forget your hat!” another knife-thrower yelled.

“Sorry, Giovanni. I gotta go. See you after the show!” With that, Alessia ran off.

“Giovanni, you remember your part in the act, right?” his father asked him. Giovanni nodded. Sure, he planned to make his own slight addition to the plans, but he knew what he was supposed to do. 

“I start climbing the ladder once you and mom have met in the middle of the tightrope, kissed, and started walking back to the platform,” he replied.

“Good. We’re so glad to finally have you as part of the act, Giovanni,” his mother said. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to what will no doubt be the most thrilling, astonishing, and stupefying experience of your life!” Alessandro was starting his opening. The night’s performance had officially begun. Giovanni and his parents were scheduled for the second act, right after the clowns. To pass the time, Giovanni pulled a yo-yo out of a box of props and started messing around with it. Ten minutes later, the clowns were heading to the backyard, and Giovanni quickly stuck his yo-yo back in the box. 

“And now, for the amazing feats of the Death-Defying Jesses, performed on a tightrope sixty feet above the ground!” Alessandro exclaimed. Giovanni and his parents entered the ring, waved to the natives in the crowd, and then walked over to the tightrope ladders, with each of his parents heading to the ladder on one of the sides and then scaling it. When they reached the top, they both carefully stepped out onto the high wire, and then started walking towards one another...only for the wire to suddenly snap! The next few seconds felt like hours, as his parents fell towards the ground below...then landed with a sickening, but surprisingly quiet, thud. After several seconds of staring at the scene in horrified shock, Giovanni ran to his parents, oblivious to the screams of the audience members. 

“Mamma! Papá! Be okay! Please be okay!” he exclaimed. He kept waiting for them to yell “Surprise!”; for them to reveal that it had been some particularly clever trick used for the act...but deep down, he knew the truth. His parents were dead; life having played a cruel trick on them by killing them on what should have been the night of their greatest triumph. Giovanni burst into tears. How could this have happened? After several minutes, Alessandro gently led Giovanni back to his trailer, assured him that the Gotham City date would be folding due to his parents’ deaths, and then left him alone, something for which Giovanni was grateful. He didn’t think he could handle having anyone else around right now. A few minutes after he was left alone, he started sobbing again. His parents were dead. If the wire had broken a few minutes later, he would’ve died, too. How had everything gone so terribly wrong? 

A few hours later, Giovanni decided to go outside in the hopes that doing so might clear his head and help him make sense of what had just happened to him. However, he didn’t get very far before he heard unfamiliar voices once again. 

“Too bad about that “accident”, Chandler.” 

“Yeah! But there wouldn’t be any accidents if you paid us to protect you!” Giovanni realized with shock that he’d heard the voices before...and suddenly, the earlier conversation Chandler and Alessandro had had with the men they had called criminals came rushing back to him. 

“You murderers! All right, I’ll pay, but only so that no one else will be killed,” Chandler replied weakly. Giovanni felt as though he’d been punched in the stomach. His parents hadn’t just died-they had been murdered!

“Those crooks...they killed my parents, and now they’re extorting the circus. I’ve gotta call the police,” Giovanni muttered to himself. 

“No, boy. Not yet!” a deep voice exclaimed. Giovanni spun around to see a tall, well-built man who was cloaked in a deep blue-or possibly black, it was hard to tell in the dim light-cape. Giovanni was used to strange-looking people-after all, he lived with the circus and was currently wearing a blue-and-orange striped uniform-but this man had them all beat. 

“Who...what... are you?” he asked. 

“I am Batman. I want to help you bring the men who murdered your parents to justice-but you can’t go to the police. Come with me, and I’ll tell you why.” Normally, Giovanni would have scoffed at such an offer-it did, after all, sound exactly like what a kidnapper would say-but at the moment, he was too consumed by grief to really care. If this weird guy helped him get justice for his parents, great. If not….what else did he have to lose? The two people he loved most in the world were already gone. 

“Okay.” 

“What’s your name, boy?” 

“Giovanni Giuseppi. James Jesse is-was-my stage name,” Giovanni replied. “Batman” nodded curtly and proceeded to lead Giovanni to a really nice-looking car, and the two climbed into it. 

“Don’t touch anything.” Under normal circumstances, this order probably would’ve been necessary, as Giovanni knew he had a bad habit of pressing buttons and grabbing things out of curiosity, but right now, he had no interest in doing anything of the sort. What he was interested in was finding out whether or not this “Batman” could help him.

“Why can’t I call the police?” he asked. 

“Because this whole city is run by Boss Zucco, a powerful mobster. If you told the police what you knew, you would be dead in an hour. Because of that, I’m going to hide you in my home for awhile,” the man replied. 

“Why? Why do you care what happens to me? I’m not even from around here. I’m just some carny kid,” Giovanni asked. 

“Because my parents were also killed by criminals. Because of that, I’ve devoted my life to wiping them out...and protecting their victims, like you.” At this reminder of his parents’ death, Giovanni started to cry again. How had this happened to him? 

About twenty minutes later, “Batman” pulled into what appeared to be a very large cave….that for some reason contained a boat, a bunch of gadgets, a large computer, several costumes that resembled the one “Batman” was wearing, a giant penny, a huge playing card, what looked like a dinosaur, and...a butler? What was this place? 

“Get out of the car.” Giovanni complied, still mystified by the whole situation, and followed “Batman” to the butler. 

“Alfred, this is Giovanni Giuseppi. Giovanni, this is Alfred Pennyworth, my butler.” 

“If I may be so bold as to ask, Master Bruce, why have you brought a child into the Batcave?” The butler, who was apparently named Alfred, sounded very British. 

“His parents were killed by Zucco’s mob. To protect him, I’m planning to have Bruce Wayne adopt him,” ‘Batman’ replied. Giovanni started crying again. He didn’t want a new father-he wanted his old one! 

“My, my. The poor child. Are you sure that adopting him is really the right decision? After all, you don’t exactly lead a….conventional life.” 

“I’m sure. I was in the audience, Alfred. I watched his parents die just like he did. If I didn’t offer him a home after that, I couldn’t live with myself.” 

“Very well, Master Bruce. Who knows? Maybe a child will be good for you.” With that, “Batman” turned back to Giovanni. 

“Giovanni, you are about to be let in on a secret that only two other people in the world know,” he said. With that, he pulled off his mask, revealing a handsome young man, probably in his late twenties. 

“My name is Bruce Wayne. I am the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and-” 

“You’re the guy who purchased the most expensive grandstand seat! The...the billionaire!” he exclaimed, stunned. He wasn’t exactly used to talking to billionaires-after all, most carnies could barely rub two nickels together most of the time.

“Yes, I am. When I was eight years old, my parents were gunned down in front of me by a mugger. Since then, I have devoted my time and money to becoming the Batman-the world’s greatest crimefighter,” Bruce Wayne/Batman replied. Giovanni pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. This was insane! Billionaire Bruce Wayne ran around in a bat costume to fight criminals? And wanted to adopt him? Why? He was just a poor carny kid...and besides, he was already fifteen years old. If Bruce Wayne really wanted to adopt a kid, why not adopt a baby? Surely a baby would be easier to mold into an heir for Wayne Enterprises than a teenaged nobody. 

“And you’re revealing your secrets to me? Why?” 

“Because you’re going to be living in Wayne Manor with me. Since you seem to be fairly intelligent, you would almost certainly have discovered my secret at some point even if I didn’t tell you, so I decided it would be best to inform you about it upfront,” Bruce Wayne/Batman replied. 

“You’re...serious about this adoption thing? But I don’t know the first thing about being rich or running a company or…” Giovanni began.

“When I became Batman, I promised myself that I’d never let criminals orphan another child in this city. When I failed to prevent your parents’ deaths, I broke that promise. Adopting you is my way of making it up to you and to myself. And besides, you’re pretty young to be left on your own,” Bruce Wayne/Batman cut in. Giovanni frowned. 

“I don’t want a substitute father.” 

“And I’m not trying to be one to you. I know no one will be able to replace your parents. Just think of me as an ally who’s giving you a home.” 

“Well...I…” Giovanni wasn’t sure what to think. On the one hand, he didn’t want to replace his parents with this guy he barely knew, and he was pretty sure that he would stick out terribly in high society, but, on the other hand, Bruce Wayne did seem to know what he was going through, and had promised to help him bring his parents’ killers to justice. 

“If you’re really opposed to the idea, I can return you to the circus,” Bruce Wayne/Batman said. That settled it. Giovanni knew he couldn’t handle returning to the circus where his parents had died, no matter how much he liked the other carnies. The emotions would be too much for him. 

“Well, if you really want to adopt me...I guess I’m okay with the idea of an ally like you.” Bruce Wayne/Batman nodded. 

“I’m glad to hear it. In that case, Alfred will show you to your room,” he said. 

“Follow me, Master Giuseppi.” The butler gestured to a flight of stairs. 

“Just call me Giovanni.” 

“As you wish, Master Giovanni.” That hadn’t been exactly what he’d meant, but whatever. He had more important things to worry about. Giovanni followed the butler up the stairs, through what appeared to be a grandfather clock, through an enormous library, and to the largest bedroom Giovanni had ever seen. It was as big as his family’s whole trailer! 

“This is all mine?” he asked, stunned.

“Yes. Are you displeased with it, Master Giovanni?” the butler asked. 

“No. I’m just...not used to having a room this huge,” Giovanni replied. 

“I can fetch you one of Master Bruce’s robes, Master Giovanni. If I had known about your arrival, I would have ensured that a suitable wardrobe was prepared for you, but, under the circumstances, I will have to make due with what I have on hand,” the butler said. Giovanni shook his head. 

“Nah. I appreciate the thought, but I’ll be fine sleeping in my clothes. I’ve done it before,” Givoanni replied. 

“Very well, Master Giovanni. Is there anything else you need?” Giovanni yawned. 

“Tonight I think I just need some sleep. It’s been a really, really long day,” he replied. 

“In that case, I will take my leave of you. Good night, Master Giovanni...and I express my strongest condolences for the tragic loss of your family,” the butler said. With that, he bowed and left the room. Giovanni walked over to the enormous bed and laid down on it. It was incredibly soft, and that, combined with Giovanni’s emotional and physical exhaustion, meant that sleep claimed him quickly. 

The next week passed in what to Giovanni was an utter blur. He attended his parents’ funeral, bid good-bye to Alessia, her father, and his other friends when the circus left Gotham, was formally adopted by Bruce Wayne thanks both to the billionaire’s fortune and his own lack of living relatives, and was enrolled in a ritzy private school. And so it was that Giovanni Giuseppi, a carny kid who’d never been in a classroom in his life, entered through the doors of one of the most exclusive high schools in the country, Gotham Preparatory Academy. On Alfred’s insistence, Giovanni arrived at his first class early-so early, in fact, that he was the first person other than the teacher to arrive. 

“Hello. My name is Mr. Cunningham. I’ll be your American History professor. You must be Giovanni Giuseppi, the boy Bruce Wayne recently adopted. I look forward to having you in my class,” the teacher said. 

“Yeah, that’s me.”  

“I heard that you used to be part of a traveling circus. If that’s true, I’m sure this must be very strange for you.” Giovanni nodded.

“No kidding. This is the first time I’ve been in a classroom. My parents homeschooled me before...before…” He managed not to start crying, but it was a close thing. 

“I understand, and I’ll do my best to make the transition easier for you.” 

“Th-thanks.” The teacher nodded, and, soon after, other kids started entering the room. One of them, a tall, brown-haired kid, came up to the desk he was sitting at. 

“I’m Jared Vreeland. You must be one of the new kids,” he said. 

“Yeah. My name’s Giovanni Giuseppi,” Giovanni said. 

“Giuseppi? I don’t know that last name, so you must be the circus kid Bruce Wayne adopted,” the kid replied. 

“You’re right, I am.” 

“Then you don’t belong here. Bruce Wayne’s always been eccentric, but adopting some circus vagabond and pretending that he’d fit in high society? It’s the craziest thing he’s ever done, and that’s saying something. I bet you’ve never even been to school before.” Giovanni frowned, now on edge. 

“And I bet you’ve never understood basic manners.” 

“I don’t need to be polite to vagabonds with no class!” 

  “Mr. Vreeland! That is entirely inappropriate! Sit down and leave Giovanni alone, or I will have you sent to the headmaster’s office!” Mr. Cunningham barked. Vreeland scowled, but complied, and Giovanni decided that he was definitely fond of Mr. Cunningham. About six minutes later, just as the bell was ringing, another kid rushed into the room, almost tripped over the flagpole, and then sat down in the seat to Giovanni’s left. 

“I’m sorry I was almost late, Mr. Cunningham. I got lost,” the skinny, red-headed kid apologized. 

“That’s all right. I take it you’re the other new student?” 

“Yes, sir. My name is Hartley Rathaway,” the kid said. Giovanni noticed that he had a distinctly different accent than Bruce Wayne, Mr. Cunningham, and his other peers. That was odd. True, he sounded different from them, too, but he hadn’t been born in Gotham. Was it possible that this kid wasn’t from Gotham, either? 

“It’s nice to meet you, Hartley. I’m Mr. Cunningham, your American History professor.” With that, the school day began, and, while the strict scheduling and multiple teachers were going to take some getting used to, Giovanni didn’t think he would have too much trouble with the coursework itself. What he was starting to suspect he was going to have trouble with was his peers. Apparently, Vreeland wasn’t alone in his anger at the idea of a circus kid being at their fancy school, and their hostility made him miss his parents...and the circus...even more than he already did. He had belonged there. 

Roughly halfway through the day, the students broke for lunch, and Giovanni sat himself down next to the red-headed kid from his history class, who was apparently the other new kid at the school. He’d always been a curious sort, and he wanted to know the story behind his fellow newcomer. Besides, talking to the kid would help keep him from thinking too much about...about...not thinking about it! 

“Hi! You’re Hartley, right? Mind if I sit here?” The kid looked surprised. 

“I suppose not. Who are you?” Giovanni smiled (a bit weakly), sat down, and unwrapped his lunch. 

“Giovanni Giuseppi. You sat next to me in history class. I’m the other new kid.” 

“The one Bruce Wayne adopted?” 

“Yep. I’m the carny kid...and apparently a lot of people here are unhappy about that.” 

“I heard. And before you ask, I’m not one of them. I actually think it’s rather neat. I’m sure you’ve gotten to travel a lot, if nothing else. And...and I’m really sorry about what happened to your parents,” Hartley said. Giovanni smiled. It was good to know that at least one kid at this ritzy school wasn’t going to hold his being a carny kid against him, even if the kid had accidentally brought up painful memories that he’d been trying to suppress. 

“Thanks for the condolences. And you’re right, I did move around a lot. Let’s see…I’ve been to Coast City, Star City, Opal City, Happy Harbor, Gateway City, Hub City, Ivytown, Central City, here…” He really didn’t want to think about his parents, so hopefully Hartley wouldn’t bring up what had happened to them again. 

“You’ve been to Central City?” 

“I was like three years old, but yeah. Why?” 

“Because I’m from Central City.”

“Really? That explains why you don’t sound like anyone else from Gotham, then.” 

“Yes. I’m the son of Osgood and Rachel Rathaway, the billionaire publishing magnates.” 

“Never heard of them,” Giovanni replied honestly. Hartley smiled. 

“You have no idea how refreshing that is.” 

“So, what’s a Midwestern boy like you doing in Gotham City?” 

“Well, I’ve been tutored at home for most of my life, but now that I’m high school aged, my parents had an excuse to send me away from home, supposedly so I could “meet the right people”. Of the schools that met their criteria, Gotham Prep was the furthest away from Central City, so they shipped me off here.” 

“You make it sound like they’re trying to get rid of you,” Giovanni replied. He couldn’t imagine his parents...no, not thinking about it! 

“They are trying to get rid of me. They sent me here so that they can hide their embarrassment of a son,” Hartley said quietly. 

“Granted, I’m a nobody carny kid, so my standards are probably different from your parents’, but you don’t seem like an embarrassment to me.” In fact, as far as Giovanni could tell, Hartley looked and acted like the perfect heir to a huge corporation. In response, Hartley removed something from his right ear and handed it to Giovanni. 

“A...hearing aid?”

“A very expensive, advanced one, but yes. A hearing aid. I was born deaf, and my parents have been disappointed with me ever since,” Hartley said. Giovanni handed the hearing aid back to him and, now a bit uncomfortable, decided to change the subject. 

“So, do you have any hobbies?” 

“I play the flute. And the violin. You?” Hartley replied. 

“I’m the best cardsharp this side of Vegas, and I know loads of tricks you can do with yo-yos. And I’m an acrobat, of course,” Giovanni replied. Unfortunately, talking about his hobbies reminded him of his life at the circus, and that made him start to cry. Bruce Wayne, Alfred, Mr. Cunningham, and Hartley were all good people, but no matter how good they were, they weren’t his parents. 

“Are you all right?” Giovanni shook his head.

“I...I miss my parents.” A few minutes later, he managed to calm down enough to stop crying, but he still couldn’t stop thinking about what he had lost. Those gangsters had killed his parents and destroyed his life, and all for some cash? How could they have done something like that? And why had it happened to him? 

“I know that this won’t make up for what happened, but I’m so sorry for what happened to you. You obviously loved your parents very much,” Hartley said quietly. 

“Why did they have to die? They never hurt anyone!” 

“I don’t know. Probably the same reason my parents wish I didn’t exist.” At that, Giovanni looked back up at Hartley and gave him a slight smile. While their situations obviously weren’t exactly the same, in a way it was comforting to know that he wasn’t the only kid his age who had been hurt for reasons he didn’t understand.

“You know what, Hartley? I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.” 

About three weeks later, Giovanni returned from Gotham Preparatory Academy to be greeted by a very grim Bruce Wayne/Batman. 

“Giovanni, I’ve got proof that Boss Zucco was behind the murder of your parents. Tonight, Batman will bring him, and all of his cronies, to justice.” Giovanni smiled. This was wonderful! He was finally going to be able to avenge his parents’ deaths! 

“I’m coming too,” he said.

“No.” 

“He killed my parents! I want to help bring him in.” 

“I said no. Even if it wasn’t incredibly dangerous, you don’t have the requisite physical training to fight crime.” Giovanni scoffed. 

“Don’t have the requisite physical training? I’ve been practicing acrobatics since I was old enough to walk!” 

“Crimefighting isn’t just a physical discipline. It also requires intense mental fortitude.” Determined to convince Bruce Wayne/Batman to help him bring in the men who’d murdered his parents, Giovanni rushed to his room, put on his airwalker shoes, and then ran back to the billionaire. 

“I’ve got mental fortitude! I invented shoes that let me walk on air,” he said as soon as he caught his breath. Bruce Wayne/Batman looked skeptical. 

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” In response, Giovanni activated his shoes and ascended several feet in the air. Once he was high enough for his feet to be roughly level with Bruce Wayne/Batman’s face, he stopped. 

“Now do you believe me?” 

“You invented those all by yourself?” Bruce Wayne/Batman actually sounded surprised, and Givoanni grinned. Surely he would be allowed to come along now! 

“Yep. You see, when I was a kid, I was afraid of falling, so I decided to invent shoes that would make sure that I never fell. Pretty cool, huh?” 

“If I don’t let you come, you’ll follow me regardless, won’t you?” Giovanni returned himself to the ground. 

“Definitely.” 

“All right. I know when I’m beaten. I’ll take you with me to bring in the men who killed your parents...but first, you must swear that you will fight with me against crime and corruption, and to never swerve from the path of righteousness!” Bruce Wayne/Batman exclaimed. Giovanni thought that that sounded a bit intense, but he would agree to anything if it meant that he could get closure for the deaths of his parents. 

“I swear it. Can we go now?” Bruce Wayne shook his head. 

“Not yet. I want to see the extent of your physical capabilities first.” Giovanni sighed, but allowed Bruce Wayne/Batman to lead him to Wayne Manor’s enormous gymnasium anyways. When Giovanni saw the trapeze, he grinned. True, his parents had primarily been tightrope walkers, but they had taught him a good deal about trapeze artistry as well. After a brief warm-up, he launched into his most complex routine, and executed it flawlessly. He’d never had more motivation to get the routine right than he did right now. 

“I’ve been doing this since I was four years old!” he exclaimed as he landed. Bruce Wayne/Batman actually nodded, clearly impressed. 

“As far as swinging ropes go, you could probably teach me a thing or two!” 

“Told you I was good.” 

“Don’t get too cocky. You’re obviously in good shape, but that doesn’t make you a trained fighter. If you want to help me take down Zucco’s mob, you have to promise to follow my orders to the letter. In this business, getting cocky can get you killed. Do you understand?” Bruce Wayne/Batman replied. 

“Sir, yes, sir!” Giovanni mock saluted, feeling more like himself than he had in weeks. It was such a relief to finally be able to do something for his parents’ memories. 

“I’m going to regret allowing you to join me, aren’t I?” 

“Probably. Now are we ready to go?” Bruce Wayne/Batman shook his head. 

“Not quite. You still need a costume and an alias. I don’t want people questioning why Bruce Wayne’s adopted son is running around fighting crime with Batman.” 

“Gotcha. I’ll be right back.” With that, Giovanni ran back to his room, retrieved his old circus uniform, and then returned to Batman. 

“What is that?” 

“My costume.” Batman looked at him incredulously. 

“A costume is intended to hide your identity, not make it even more obvious. The fact that you were part of the circus before I adopted you is well-known. Wearing that outfit is basically like wearing a sign saying that you’re Giovanni Giuesppi, Bruce Wayne’s adopted son. And even if it wasn’t, that costume is the most hideously garish outfit I’ve ever seen.” Giovanni scowled. His uniform was not hideous. What did Batman have against bright colors?

“Do you have uniforms in my size?” Batman frowned. 

“Well...no,” he admitted. 

“Then I’m wearing the circus uniform. If anyone gets suspicious, we’ll just say that I’m obviously not the kid running around with Batman. I was traumatized by my parents’ deaths-why would I want to run around in an outfit that would remind me of how they died?” 

“Fine. But you’re at least going to add some accessories to it,” Batman replied. With that, he led Giovanni to the library, through the passageway behind the grandfather clock, into the cave, and to what appeared to be a dressing room of sorts, one that was full of costumes and accessories. Giovanni quickly ducked behind the divider in the middle of the room, changed into his uniform, and then returned to Batman. 

“What other accessories do I need?”  Batman handed him a yellow belt and a pair of black gloves.

“The belt contains a variety of useful crime fighting tools. The gloves prevent you from leaving fingerprints. Both are vital for our line of work.” Giovanni put the belt on, discarded the black gloves, and donned a pair of powder blue ones that were much more to his tastes. 

“The belt’s a little big.” 

“That’s because it was made for me. If you pull it taut, it should stay put.” Giovanni nodded and complied. 

“Anything else?”

“You need a mask.”  Giovanni nodded, picked up a black domino mask...and then noticed a huge blue cape. Grinning, he grabbed the cape, and proceeded to don both cape and mask. 

“So, how do I look?” “Like a colorblind acrobat.”

“Because a giant bat is much less weird, right?” Batman frowned.

“You’re skating on thin ice, Giuseppi. That being said, your costume is basically complete at this point. Now all you need is a code name.” 

“I know! You can call me the Trickster!” 

“No. That sounds like a supervillain name.” Giovanni didn’t think so, but whatever. 

“All right, how about the Prankster?” 

“Taken.”

“The Joker?” 

“Very taken.” 

“Are you sure we can’t call me the Trickster?” 

“Yes!” Briefly stumped, Giovanni pondered possible names for a few seconds...and then beamed. 

“I’ve got it! You can call me Merry.” 

“I suppose that’s acceptable. Merry it is.”

“So are we ready to go now?”

“Yes. But remember to do exactly as I say.” With that, Batman and Giovanni-Merry-entered the Batmobile and headed into Gotham City to take down Boss Zucco. 

FIN

[themidnight-ghost]

Try

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Anne Boleyn lost everything when she accidentally resurrected Henry VIII. Now it's all up to her to fix her mistakes, but hopefully, she won’t have to do it alone.

Anne Boleyn was usually a heavy sleeper. She slept and continued sleeping until around 10 am when Jane would practically drag her out of bed. But tonight, on Cathy’s floor, Anne was restless.

Earlier, the 2nd and 6th queen had a heated discussion about who would sleep on the floor and who would sleep on the bed. Anne refused to go anywhere near Cathy’s mattress until she’d made things right with everyone, and they both knew Anne didn’t deserve the treatment she was getting anyway. Cathy eventually gave up and pulled out a book.

Now, the Boleyn girl was tired yet unable to sleep - everything was a distraction. Cathy’s rhythmic breathing, the occasional taxi which sped past the open window, the drunk shouts of men walking home from the pub down the road and of course, Anne’s thoughts.

Eying the open window, Anne thought back to a time when everything was okay. She’d spend hours on the roof with Anna talking about their inner demons and the guilt they felt. For Anna, it was surviving and having a good life. The 4th queen always thought she shouldn’t be the one crying. As for Anne, it was more to escape the prying eyes of her family and country; they all painted her as a failure.

Anne was the quietest she’d even been as she tiptoed over the floor and past Cathy’s papers so she could reach the window. Upon arrival she pried the latch open and slid under, grasping onto the ledge as she made her way towards the highest point. Anne let the occasional whisper-curse slip from her lips as she adjusted her footing amongst the tiles. It was harder not being in the attic.

Reaching her destination, Anne propped herself against the sloping walls and drew her legs close to her chest, hugging herself. The air was fresh and pure like it was filtering through a fan, Anne gazed up at the stars with longing and a spark of hope in her eye. She enjoyed being alone with the moon shrouding her face. It helped her make sense of her thoughts and contemplate her actions, or in this case, the rising feelings she had for Catherine Parr.

With or without Anna, Anne remembered when she wrote poems about Cathy once she discovered her feelings. Anne never imagined that it would work out, though. They were reincarnated Tudor queens who had been previously scared by love but found comfort in each other. Cathy was the only person who succeeded in breaking down her defences and the only queen Anne had a real connection with when dismissing Katherine.

According to history, the whole thing was bullshit. But you should’ve seen Cathy’s face when Anne kissed her after their performance at The Olivier awards and opened up to the writer about her feelings. The youtube clip had been watched 13 million times and the gasp from the audience when Cathy finally nodded and admitted that her feelings reciprocated always made Anne chuckle.

“Boleyn?”

Anne squealed at the arrival of another person and quickly tensed up when she realised it was Cleves.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Anna’s tone wasn’t malicious; instead, it was quite humorous, and the 4th queen chuckled as Anne fumbled for an answer.

“It doesn’t matter.” Anna sat beside Anne before looking up at the stars, “I figured it was only a matter of time before Cathy smuggled you into the house again. She couldn’t stop asking about you - it drove Jane bonkers. How long have you been here, anyway?”

Anne was taken aback at Anna’s hospitality, “It’s my 2nd night here.”

“Weird that-” Anna hesitated, “Cathy stopped mentioning you about two weeks ago.”

“She found me living on the street and decided to help by giving me money. Eventually, she couldn’t hide it anymore and started talking to me herself.”

“The street? Jane said you were in Malibu with henry?”

“Malibu? You have to be shitting me!” Anne scanned Anna’s face for any sign of a joke. “I left that wanker the moment he wouldn’t stay true to our deal. The plan was to resurrect the kids for the good of everyone else, but he bolted. When Jane kicked me out, I went looking for him so we could continue our deal. I found him in a local pub, running away from everything.”

“Damn, Jane really hates you.”

“Are you serious?” terror traced Anne’s face, “I always thought that was a stage act?”

“Oh, it was. But now, Jane really hates you.” Anna responded nonchalantly.

Anne froze. Jane hated her? Anne may have done some terrible things, but she never wanted to hurt anyone and surely didn’t want anyone to hate her. These people were her family! To know Anne caused them pain was an unbearable thought, and the Boleyn girl could feel her walls crumbling. Let’s just say there was a reason for the cuts on her wrist.

“Do you hate me?” Anne’s voice cracked, and she pressed her nails into her biceps to stop her tears.

Anna stopped to contemplate the 2nd queen’s question. Unfortunately, this pause was too long, and Anne's walls tumbled.

It started when a tear-streaked her left cheek and Anne cupped her mouth to prevent her sobs echoing into the night and waking the other queen’s. With all boundaries gone, Anne turned and cried into her friend’s shoulder,

“Am I a bad person Anna? Please don’t hate me.”

“What the-” Baffled by the sudden emotion-explosion, Anna pulled the 2nd queen closer to her chest, “You’ve never been a bad person, babes. And I could never hate you.”

Anna was never good at comforting anyone and often referred back to her own experiences. However, she had always been there for Anne before and wasn’t stopping now.

“Besides, I’m technically the bad one here; I couldn’t stop Kat from hurting herself.”

“Kat hurt herself because of me?” Anne’s heart broke before falling further into her stomach, giving the Boleyn girl a sick feeling of guilt and sorrow, “I’m the villain in this story, not you.”

“Woah,” Anna turned to face the 2nd queen, “Don’t say that, you didn’t mean to hurt her!”

Anne curled into herself, “But I still did! It being an accident doesn’t change anything!”

“Anne, listen.” Anna held Anne’s face, so they looked into each other’s eyes, “There isn’t a villain here, just a bunch of kids who made mistakes.”

“But I-”

“The thing with us is that we’re not bad people. A bad person is someone who deliberately causes harm or pain to others. You may be painted as a bad person to some, but it doesn’t mean you’re genuinely a bad person. Mistakes happen. Get over it and start living your life.”  

“You should hate me?”

“But I don’t.” Anna brushed her hair back with her hand, “And you shouldn’t either.”

With that, Anna of Cleves slid down the roof and back into her room, leaving Anne alone under the stars.

With no more tears left to cry, Anne felt empty. She didn’t intend to disclose everything to Anna, but it did feel good to get everything off her chest. She briefly closed her eyes in silent prayer and wallowed in the silence, palming the roof tile to pass the time.

‘I want to tell you everything, all the words I never got to say the first time around. But you are just a fool to keep pretending that you love me so even if I said anything, It wouldn’t matter.’

☁️ Anna was not qualified to deal with an emotional outburst at 3 am but honestly neither am I. Comments and Kudos are always appreciated. x ☁️

[rat-father]

Part 2!

After this things will go down a weird route, and Mynci will become more ✨sassy✨

Tagging; @jordanstrophe

-- tw;; captivity/slave whump, intimate whumper, blood mention, accidental self harm, threathening --

Pora looked at the thin pole in fear. They couldn’t even balance normally, how were they supposed to balance on that with one foot? Mynci made it look so easy, but he had years and years of experience with balancing on all sorts of things. He jumped back down from the pole, grinning at the slave.

“Go on, you do it now.”

Their heart started beating even faster as they slowly approached the pole, it was higher then they thought. They pulled themselves up and stood on the top with one foot. It didn’t last long as they quickly lost balance and fell to the floor. Pain shot through their arm and they bit back a scream.

Mynci sighed in disapproval. Such a basic thing and they couldn’t even do it.

“That was hardly 5 seconds!,” He shook his head. “Next is trampoline jumping, you better not mess it up again.”

They groaned as they got back up. Trampoline jumping didn’t sound too bad, but of course he was going to make it hard for them. They hurried to catch up with him as he lead them to the trampoline. He went up first to show Pora how to do it, he did a series of acrobatic stunts, they had never even seen half of them before. They weren’t athletic at all, nor did they know how to copy what he did, but the punishment would be worse if they didn’t try.

So hesitantly they went up, silently praying they’d be able to do at least of the tricks. They actually managed a backflip, which was a win in their book, but their mind was already blank on the other things he had shown them. Surely he couldn’t see that they weren’t actually doing them with that blindfold on right? He always relied on hearing after all. They jumped around for another couple seconds before getting off.

“You failed yet again.” Mynci said.

“What? But I did it!”

He sighed and pulled the slave closer by their collar. “I’m not fucking stupid. I can tell you didn’t actually do it.” He let go of them. “I’ll punish you for lying later.”

Pora let out a shaky breath and silently followed him to the small stage. Behind the curtains there was a box with various balls, knives, torches, hats, cards and some other stuff he regularly used while performing for kids. He took out four of the small knives and casually strolled over to the middle. Then he started juggling them, and the slave could feel their heart drop to the ground.

“Ever learned to juggle, dear?” He smiled at the slave, showing too many teeth.

“No, sir.”

He stopped juggling and caught the knives in his hands. “Well in that case,” he handed them to Pora. “I hope you’re a fast learner. Try not to drop them, each knife you drop is another hour I’ll make you perform in front of an actual crowd.”

They were supposed to juggle knives? They shouldn’t have been surprised. That Mynci was sadistic was clear, but they never expected him to do something like this. They took a deep breath and tried to copy what he did, throw the knives in the air one by one and catch them, simple enough. One of the blades fell directly on one of their palms making them cry out in pain, the other knives clattered to the floor as well.

Pora was holding onto their wrist, desperately looking up at Mynci, hoping he’d help. He reached out and pulled the knife out of their hand, and they cried out again. Blood was pouring out, dripping to the floor.

“You dropped all of them, couldn’t even juggle 1, I’m very disappointed.” He sighed heavily and started to make his way out of the tent. “Go to your room. You have a long day ahead.”

The slave sobbed and stumbled off the stage, heading to the back room. They were pressing on the wound as hard as they could, trying to stop the bleeding at least a bit. Were they even going to survive? If they did, Mynci could probably just bring them back using his magic. They sat down in their corner and closed their eyes. They didn’t try to hold back tears, it was useless.

The sound of something being placed in front of them made them jump and look up. Val was staring at their hand with her big eyes, she had a first aid kit with her. She took some supplies out the kit and gently took their hand in hers. Taking a moment to inspect the wound, she poured disinfectant over it, then bandaged it up carefully. They made eye contact for a moment before she left just as fast as she came.

Pora looked at their hand trying to figure out what exactly just happened. Did Mynci send her? Maybe she heard the screams and just came to check. Either way, it felt nice to have human contact, contact that wasn’t intended to hurt them. They knew tomorrow was going to be filled with pain, they should rest and hope that the audience would be gently on them for once.

They woke up with a not so great start. First of all, they were inside a cage, one small enough to keep them on their knees. And secondly, they were inside a different tent by the looks of things. They’d seen the yellow and purple walls before, but never been inside. There was hay covering the floor outside the cage, some big buckets of water tucked in the corner and smaller buckets with food in the other. They assumed that this is where the horses stayed, at least during the night. But why were they here? What was going on?

Faint circus music was playing somewhere nearby, probably in the tent just next to it. They assumed they were doing a morning show with the horses. That didn’t explain much about why they were in there. The sound of crunchy footsteps made them look up.

“Hey sleeping beauty, took a nice nap? You can be quite the heavy sleeper, you know. Almost thought you were dead!” Kins laughed at himself, his voice echoed in the room.

They didn’t know how to respond and remained silent. He didn’t seem to bothered by it. The jester leaned against the wall and sighed.

”Things were nicer before you came here, honestly. Whenever Mynci got bored he’d come to me and ask me to tell him jokes, when he was frustrated he’d ask me to play my music..now he just goes to you instead,” he made eye contact with the slave, then turned around and started walking in circles. “Not to blame you, but I’m kind of blaming you. Anyway, Mynci said you’re gonna be part of the performance tonight, as punishment or something. Not sure how doing something so cool would be considered a punishment but whatever. You get to walk the tight ropes! It’s really fun, I’ve been practicing myself. Honestly you’re lucky you get to do the fun stuff and I don’t.”

He fell silent staring at the door for a couple seconds.

“Just be ready, that’s all I’m saying.” He muttered as he left at a fast pace.

[fandom-collective-writers]

A Warm Rain (Shingen Takeda x Reader)

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Pairing: Shingen Takeda x Reader

Prompt: Rain

Warning: Self-indulgent angst

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 2,214

Requested by: anonymous​

Written by: @lordsister​

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Sengoku or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost or reblog this on any other website.

       A thundering boom shook the walls, nearly drowning out the sound of your cries from beyond the sliding doors he’d been forced to wait outside of. Exhaling a slow breath, Shingen closed his eyes against the tears blurring his vision, a steady stream of silent prayers escaping slightly parted lips as he curled in on himself. Yukimura stood nearby, tapping his foot without a word. The older man could tell he wanted to speak and was grateful that he didn’t. In all his years of fighting, he had never been so terrified before, and all he wanted to do was shut down if he couldn’t do anything to bring an end to your suffering. 

       He just felt so useless.

       Had it been days or hours? Shingen couldn’t tell when each pained scream wrenched at his heart and made him tremble. He had already left bloody crescents in his calloused palms from how hard he’d been clenching his fists, yet he knew the agony he was feeling was nothing compared to what you were going through.

       The rain had started last night, the beginning of what promised to be a serious summer storm making its way across Kai, and had continued through the night, gaining intensity. Just that morning - or was it yesterday morning? - Shingen had been sitting with you, watching it drench the garden and the rest of the castle from your shared room. He’d held you safe and sound, sitting between his legs with his arms wrapped around you and your hands covering his as they rested on your pregnant belly. 

       You had mentioned you’d been feeling pangs when you woke up that morning, but had dismissed them as false contractions. They had occurred a few times in the past few weeks as your due date loomed closer, but you were still a good month away from giving birth. You didn’t seem overly concerned so Shingen decided to trust you on it, but he was still a little concerned, so he insisted you let him pamper you, massaging your sore body from time to time.

       Since you had found out you were pregnant, the love and affection he liked to shower you with had increased exponentially. Every spare moment he had was spent with you, to the point that Yukimura liked to grumble that he was attached to you at the hip. You could barely walk a few steps without Shingen at your heels, asking where you were going, if you wanted anything, if you were feeling okay. It annoyed you sometimes when you were trying to sew in peace, but you couldn’t deny him when he was practically buzzing with joy. 

       “My goddess is pregnant with my child.” Every time he pressed his ear to your growing belly, listening to the sounds of his child moving within, a gentle smile would spread across his handsome face, and he would look up at you with so much love it made your heart swell for the man you’d fallen in love with, for the life you’d created together. “I won’t jinx it by wondering if I deserve to be this happy.”

       Neither of you could wait to meet the child that had been born of your love, a little Takeda prince or princess to love and fawn over and fill Tsutsujigasaki Castle with the sound of little pounding feet. Shingen may have been more excited than you actually. He’d been waiting for a family for so long and now he only had to wait a month longer until his angel added another blessing to the list.

       That morning he was holding you as he usually did when your back was aching or your feet hurt, letting you lean into his chest as his hands rubbed gentle circles into your belly and he pressed kisses into your hair. Every time the baby kicked, he would smile and tap back, chuckling into your neck. “Restless today, huh?”

       “Mmm,” you hummed in agreement, leaning your head back against his shoulder and exposing your neck to him for kissing. “It feels like they’re trying to fight their way out. Definitely a warlord’s kid.” 

       Laughing, he caressed your stomach soothingly, murmuring, “Calm down for Mama, huh? There’ll be plenty of fighting later when Kenshin decides you're old enough to hold a sword.”

       You grimaced and he laughed some more. Of course, you knew he was kidding. There was no way Shingen wasn’t going to let the battle-obsessed war god anywhere near his child for a long time. The thought of Kenshin’s bloodlust rubbing off on his precious baby…

       Suddenly, you gasped and he flew into serious mode, his grip on you tightening protectively. “What? What’s wrong?”

       “Shingen, I - my water broke!” Narrowed gaze snapping to your stomach, he felt you jerk in his arms, a pained yelp escaping your lips. “The baby’s coming!”

       He didn’t waste a second, even though he was panicking inside. Wasn’t it too early? There was still a good month left before the birth was supposed to take place. Had something suddenly gone wrong? ‘God, please no.’ 

       Lifting you in his arms, he took you back inside and settled you onto the futon, pressing a quick kiss to your head before unwinding your fingers from his and running into the hallway. His booming voice filled the hall, rising above the pounding rain and thunder, and soon enough your shared room was filled with other people, Yukimura trying to pull him out even as Shingen remained rooted at your side, brushing sweaty strands of hair away from your forehead and letting you strangle his hand.

       “Shingen-!” you gasped, eyes wide. You knew it was too early and you were scared, scared for your life and the life of your child.

       It took every bit of his rapidly fraying composure not to give you the same terrified look in return, pressing his lips hard against your temple instead. It was a wonder he was able to keep his voice steady as he said, “You’re amazing, my love. You can do this. You're stronger than anyone I know. It’s going to be okay. You and the baby are going to be okay.”

       “Lord Shingen, we can’t stay in here!” Yukimura insisted, tugging harder. The maids and midwife echoed him, but he barely heard, feeling his heart throb painfully as another contraction wracked your pained form.

       “I love you,” he managed before finally letting himself be pulled away, his eyes never leaving you until the sliding door slammed into place before him. It echoed the sound of his heart snapping into pieces, and a sudden flash of lightning made him jump.

       Thus began what felt like the longest wait of his life, the only news to go off of the sound of your cries. He ached to be in there with you, holding your hand and supporting you through the pain, but he didn’t want to get in the way, especially if something really was wrong. 

       Yukimura attempted to talk to him a couple of times as Shingen paced back and forth, but stopped when his lord crumpled to the floor, his strength leaving him as he trembled and prayed to whatever gods were listening.

       He’d been sitting there for hours now, his pain numbing to a blinding ache as the seconds, minutes, hours crept by, each cry chipping away at him in a way he hadn’t known was possible. It was fear and pain and despair sharpened to knife-point and steadily being used to stab away at his hope. The storm made it worse, lightning and thunder adding an ominous sense to his terror and bringing out his worst fantasies. Something was wrong. It must be. It was taking too long, and there was no way he was just going to sit here and let you suffer alone.

       He stood with a snarl and Yukimura startled, reaching for him as he moved to tear open the screen doors. 

       “Lord Shingen, no!” The other man wrapped his arms around his lord’s waist who rounded on him with a glare.

       “Something’s wrong, Yuki. Don’t you dare stop me.”

       “I’m worried too!” he tried to insist, grip tight around his lord’s wrist. “(Y/n)’s my friend! She’s like a sister to me!”

       “And she’s my wife!” he growled, the rumble of thunder answering as he turned to the door again. “Giving birth to our child! I can’t sit here anymore!”

       “I understand, but please wait a little longer!”

       “For her to-?!” he cut off abruptly. He couldn’t say the word, he couldn’t even think it. You couldn’t! Not you! Instead, he ripped his hand out of Yukimura’s grip and reached for the door again.

       A cry interrupted him before he could open it, however, making him freeze. It wasn’t a cry from you, tiny and new instead of the pained groans he’d been listening to for hours. His fingers closed on the door before he fully realized it, yanking it back with a resounding slam.

       Shingen was so scared of what he might find, he practically collapsed in relief when his gaze landed on you. You were a mess, covered in blood and sweat, but you were alive, blessedly, wonderfully alive. 

       He was at your side in a split second, scooping your exhausted body into his arms and cradling you against him. For the first time in hours, he felt safe, holding you safe and sound where you belonged.

       “Sorry. Did I scare you?” you panted, a breathless chuckle wracking your limp form. 

       He tried to laugh back, but a choked sob came out instead. The tears he’d been trying to hold back for hours suddenly rushed forth, streaming down his face as he pressed it into your hair, shoulders shaking. Shingen was so grateful that you were still alive, he couldn’t think of anything to say. All he could do was hold you.

       “Would you like to meet your daughter?” you murmured softly, reaching up to stroke his hair. 

       His watery eyes shot open, his mouth opening and closing before he regained his voice. “A daughter? We have a daughter?”

       You were so tired and weak, but there was a beautiful sparkle in your eyes, a smile on your lips as your gaze shifted away from him and to an approaching nursemaid. He looked as well, and more emotion and anticipation rose in his throat as his eyes fell on the squirming bundle in the other woman’s arms. He couldn’t tear his gaze away as your outstretched arms embraced the bundle, laying it against your chest as he finally beheld his child’s face.

       She had been crying before, but she quieted now, nestled against the familiar warmth of her mother. Shingen could see that she had inherited his coloring, maroon fuzz covering her head and large grey eyes blinking up at him, but he recognized your nose and jawline. He took a shuddering breath and reached out, smiling through his happy tears as a tiny hand wrapped around his finger.

       “You couldn't wait another month, huh?” he chuckled, to which she just blinked at him, cooing as she wiggled. “Is she healthy?” 

       “Yep,” you replied, stroking your thumb across her head. Looking up at him, you asked, “Do you want to hold her?”

       He blinked owlishly at you and nodded, his heart jumping in his chest. Fussing at being handed away from you, she quieted as soon as Shingen had her steady. She looked so tiny in his large hands, little limbs kicking in her swadlings, and he could feel her heartbeat, fluttering like a bird. His tears dripped down his face onto her as his heart swelled in his chest, love for his family drowning the last of his fear. 

       Holding the new Takeda princess in one arm and his goddess of a wife in the other, he pressed his lips to your hair. “Thank you.”

       Leaning up, you kissed his cheek in answer before settling back against him, closing your eyes as 20 hours of labor finally got to you. You felt yourself being laid back onto the futon, and heard the maids ushering your husband and child out again to clean you up before settling to sleep, a smile on your face.

       At the same time, Shingen was still gazing down at the baby in wonder, watching her take in the world around her with pride. There was so much more inside him now, the final pieces falling into place. She’d broken his heart coming into the world, but put it back together just as easily. How amazing was that?

       Sitting down, he smiled as the tiny life in his arms yawned and closed her eyes, tucked safely against his chest. Looking up, he noticed the rain had started to let up, bits of blue sky peeking through the grey. As he watched, a rainbow flared to life, making his smile grow even wider as he reached out to catch the last few raindrops in his hand.

       This day could have gone so much worse. The rain could have been so cold, drenching him as he mourned the loss of what heaven had so graciously given him, but it felt warm instead, life-giving. The future he dreamed of remained perfectly intact, his heart blissfully full.