#I woke up to a message about this and I almost cried with joy

[dannyisababyking]

SOMEONE MADE A TV TROPES PAGE FOR MY FIC AND I’VE NEVER FELT MORE VALIDATED???

[suna-reversed]

Talking to the moon🌙

Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

minors DNI‼️

3k+ words

(quote^^ by- Richard Siken)

warnings/tags- blood and violence. oral (f.recieving), vaginal sex, anal, dacryphilia, slight praise, slight degradation, fingering. age gap. toxic relationship. mentions of harassment. yandere themes implied. heartbreak, moving on. fluff. angst. hurt/comfort. (all characters are aged up!)

Gojo Satoru is the moon. Ever changing and radiant. Beaming with light, even when he doesn't have any of his own. And much like the moon, parts of him stay hidden in an ominous darkness as he leaves you cold and alone in the tangled mess of sheets, wondering why your lover disappears at the crack of every dawn.

You had met him a while ago when he had first come into the bakery you worked at part-time, dazzling pearls on show as he ordered every single flavour of mochi off the menu. You didn’t know where it started; how the simple exchanges turned into conversations that lasted up to hours, your manager practically having to shoo him away so that you’d stop getting distracted.

You got used to him visiting you in the day during work, sitting on the barstool near the bakery counter, talking your ear off about the most random of things while he stuffed his face with mochi. You sometimes wondered how you happened to have so much in common with a man so much more older than you. 

You couldn't exactly remember how those innocent conversations turned into you being splayed across the marble kitchen countertop of your apartment at 3 am, the joyous man now turned into a ferocious beast as he devoured you whole, holding your legs apart, tongue licking in between your folds with such fervour that made it seem as if it was the last meal of his life. 

In all honesty, you didn’t know a lot about him, except for the fact that he worked at a private institute and often travelled overseas. He’d be as silent as a mouse as he slipped out of your place before sunrise each time. He never told you why, and eventually you stopped asking- the warmth and comfort of his body too addictive to have to give up for the question of ‘what are we?’ being answered.

On days that you’d find yourself waking up early, you’d simply let your eyes roam over the muscles of his back, adoring the dimples at the bottom of his spine, memorising each blemish, scar and mark as if you’d never see it again. You sometimes found yourself wishing he’d take off the peculiar fabric covering his eyes- your mind could barely fathom the shade of his orbs.

You knew that he was always aware of you being awake. But he didn’t acknowledge it, whether by accident or choice, you could never tell. So every time he’d finish pulling his shirt over his head, you’d roll away, focusing your mind out the window on the half disappearing moon instead of the crushing weight on your chest. 

Perhaps, this was the love they never told you about. The love that wasn’t afternoon picnics and obnoxious public displays of affection. The love that wasn’t late night grocery runs and feeding each other food at cafes.

Instead, this was the love that had you deleting messages and cleaning up the strands of ashy hair from your shower drain. The love that had you lying to your friends about the marks on your neck and pretending like he didn’t just have you pinned down beneath him the night before as you served him coffee.

Every morning that you woke up alone in bed, sore and unclothed from the events of the previous night, you found yourself thinking of ways that you’d turn him away the next time he showed up at your door. But then the bell would ring, and your feet would be carrying you to the half broken man covered in bruises and blood before you could think of it.

This time, you’re sure you tell him to go away, to stop treating you as if you were some toy, slamming the door in his crestfallen face. But then why do you find yourself clutching onto his scarlet stained jacket in the bathroom? The first aid box discarded to the side as you sob into his chest, a hand stroking your hair as he assures you he’s fine. 

That night, you find him buried deep inside of you, your heavy breathing filling the silence of the air, your back to his chest. The arms around you feel unbearably tight as he pulls you even closer to him. Why is he trying to snatch all the warmth from your body?

The hot breath of his mouth is right next to your ear. He’s telling you he wants to be tender and merciful while his teeth are digging into your jugular, the hand around your throat tightening as his hips rut into you harder. He does not wipe away the tears flowing freely down your face.

The next morning, you find a burning sensation rising in your chest as you stare at the empty space next to you; his underlying scent of strawberries and citrus still lingering.

What had you been expecting? Why would this night have been different from any other?

That question is answered when you realise the unfamilair feeling of a cold metal wrapped around your ankle while climbing out of bed. Looking down, you see that it's a thin silver anklet with two charms hanging off of it.

His initials and a crescent moon.

You can’t help the smile that’s on your face for the rest of the day.

--------

You're panting, the drumming of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, vision blurring as you try to make it back home. You’re gripping onto the walls to keep yourself from falling, the pain in your body near unbearable as you somehow manage to unlock the door, not even making it past the entrance as you crumble apart right there, curling in on yourself as broken sobs leave your chest. 

The sound of footsteps has you shutting your eyes, flinching from the pain and fear of knowing you can’t fight. The terror of your attacker being in your home makes your cries even louder.

Instead, you find your senses being flooded by the familiar scent of strawberries and the cologne that you bought him- warm muscular arms come to wrap around your figure, lifting you up. You’re still crying as he settles you down onto the bed, gently pulling your hands away from your face.

He lifts your shirt to reveal the expanse of wounds littered across your abdomen. An unreadable expression remains on his face as he skillfully cleans off the blood, fixing you up like you’ve done for him a dozen times. You don’t remember telling him where you were injured. Could the blood be seen through your shirt? None of it matters as he pushes you back down onto the plush mattress, your eyes fluttering close you as fall into a deep fitful slumber. 

It’s a full moon tonight, the light cascading through your window providing you an odd sense of comfort. You turn over in the dark, gasping a little as your eyes lock onto a pair of strange azure ones. Your mind is still heavy from the medicines you took, perhaps that’s why you don’t react, simply staring into the unfamiliar eyes on a face that you recognised better than the back of your own hand.

His slender pale fingers are trailing over the skin of your abdomen. Shouldn't it hurt more? A hand comes up to your face, gently cradling your chin as he examines the scratch on your jaw. Your heart skips a beat as his soft lips press a chaste kiss onto your brow. His voice is low and tense, anger barely restrained as he asks,

“Who did this to you?”

You try to form a response, but all you can hear is the shallow echo of the beating of your half-dead heart. Your chest feels hollow as words finally rise to the tip of your tongue, eyes dry as you tell him all of it. How a strange force had pinned you against a wall when you were walking back home, how the man who appeared from the shadows of the dark alley didn’t even lift a finger, yet it felt like each bone in your body was being cracked apart. How you barely felt the pain of the broken bottle that impaled your flesh as you were thrown aside, the stranger parting from you with just four words,

“Consider this a warning.”

You don’t care how crazy you sound as you explain the bizarre events that occurred. You don’t care that his orbs are as blue and twice as deep as the mariana trench. You don’t care that for once, his eyes hold something other than just lust as he looks at you.

Your throat feels raw by the time you finish, and it hurts to look at his pitiful face so you roll onto your side, fixing your eyes on the shimmering celestial body outside your window. You both lay in silence for a while.

“I liked thinking of you as the moon at times.”

The calm in your voice startles Gojo, but he remains quiet, wanting you to continue. It doesn’t matter if it's gibberish, doesn't matter if it’s words of hatred, of doubt, of regret; he’ll take it as long as there’s something- as long as you’re speaking. His arms tremble around you a little as a bitter laugh escapes your chest. 

“But at the end of the day,” you pause, taking a deep breath, “...all I am, is a mere star in a galaxy full of constellations.”

The raw sob that rips from your chest is a surprise to both you and Gojo.

“Tell me who cares about a star that burns out and explodes?” your voice is barely above a whisper as you turn around to face him.

For once in his life, Gojo Satoru can’t joke, fight or fuck his way out of a situation. A strange weight has been on his chest ever since he saw your eyes. The light and joy stripped out of them as he found himself staring back at his own reflection. 

His eyes glance down at the dip of your collarbone, the arch of your shoulder that he wanted to reside in forever, now covered in small scars. He knows who hurt you. 

He pulls you closer to him, tangling his feet with yours, the strip of metal around your ankle clinking at the movement. Perhaps it was a huge mistake to have bought you something so carelessly, knowing that the eyes of a few dozen enemies followed him wherever he went. 

He finds himself at a loss for words, opting to convey his emotions through touch instead as he melds his lips with yours. You sigh into his mouth and he kisses you even deeper, almost desperately as if trying to pass over his own breaths to you- as if trying to bring you back to life. He finds the taste of salt on his tongue and the wet drops falling onto his cheeks makes his flesh burn. He doesn't know whose they are as he continues to try and cling onto the shell of what was once a whole person. 

“Please” he finds himself mumbling as he pulls you even closer, heart cracking as you continue sniffing into his chest. 

“It hurts- it hurts- so much” You’re sobbing now, his own body shaking in tandem with yours.

Who is he to deny you when you look up at him, the broken plea leaving your mouth, 

“Make it stop please.”

---

Gojo finds the cold metal of his own initials pressing against the side of his face as he hoists your legs over his shoulder. His fingers are pressing down against your sensitive nub, spreading around your slick before he pumps two of his fingers into you. You buck your hips up, cries escaping you as his tongue licks your clit, suctioning it into his mouth as he increases the pace of his fingers.

You’re cumming undone within seconds, begging him to fill you up. He’s never so easily given in to your demands, but tonight, it’s as if he’s only there to serve your wishes. The sickening thought of getting hurt again just so that you’d get this treatment creeps up in the back of your mind. 

You moan as you feel him line his thick girth with your entrance, the tip catching onto your sensitive bundle of nerves as he rubs it between your dripping heat. He leans forward, pushing your legs up and safely tucking them against your chest, before crashing his lips against yours. It’s messy and rushed; tongue against tongue, spit drooling out as he pushes himself inside of you in one long stroke. The burn of it has you groaning into his mouth, hands moving to tangle into his hair. His thrusts are deep and angled, the feeling of it settling deep in your belly. 

“Fuck- you look so-fucking-pretty underneath me like this”

His words of praise are muffled against your lips, further drowned out by your moans as one of his hands moves down to play with your clit. You’re screaming his name as the coil in your stomach snaps, his own restraint breaking as he finishes, painting your walls with his seed. 

It’s not the first time you find yourself screaming and moaning that night. His cock is inside of you in one way or the other through the entirety of the next few hours- whether it be deep down your throat as his hands pull your hips down to his face, moaning at the taste of himself leaking from your cunt - or stretching the walls of your puckered asshole, the lube he pumped in with his slender fingers dripping out as he presses you to the shower wall, a hand coming forward to fondle your tits as his face falls onto your shoulder, grunting into your ear while he pistons in and out of your tight hole. 

You can barely move a muscle by the time you’re done, body and mind numb from both the exhaustion and overstimulation as he pulls the covers over the two of you, limbs entangled with each other’s, skin against skin, his hands rubbing circles onto your spine.

“No one’s ever going to hurt you again.” 

You’re barely conscious as he whispers that, humming and burying your face deeper into his cozy heat as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You do not notice the solemn drop of moisture that escapes his eye, falling onto your cheek, a thumb brushing it away just as quickly, as if it was never there. Just as he wishes he could brush away his own existence from your life- no- just as he was going to.

“...I promise.”

---

When your eyes flutter open, they are not met with the moon.

Instead, the light of the rising sun casts a rosy hue across your room. And for once, you do not feel cold as you spread out your legs to take more of the space on the expanse of your empty bed. The sunlight does not feel like a curse anymore, even if the nostalgia of the moon’s glow stays buried somewhere deep in your heart. 

But at least there’s no more crying going to bed alone each night; no more hours of scrolling through social media looking for someone who doesn’t exist; no more one night stands and low grade hookups trying to fulfil the ever-growing void in your heart. 

In fact, you find yourself going out more, singing along to songs in the shower once again, even making friends with a regular trio that starts coming into your bakery every other day. They told you they’re college students too, all around your age, and you find yourself smiling a little more than necessary at one of them, even if a pair of ocean eyes floods the back of your mind each time that you do. You’re still hurting and healing, but at least you are moving forward. 

“At least he kept his promise”  You find yourself thinking as you climb out of bed, sighing in disappointment at the clinking of charms around your ankle. 

—-

“At least I kept my promise.” 

It had become Gojo’s new-found mantra. Every time he saw you drunk out of your mind at a bar, deftly bribing the bartender to replace your ordered shots with water instead. Every time he saw a random body pressed to yours, their tongue exploring your sweet mouth as you pushed them into your apartment. And especially that one time he found himself standing over the half-beaten body of the man who had tried to grope you on the bus. 

“At least I kept my promise- at least she’s safe.”

He knew his actions were of a mad man. Even though he took care of the problem which had hurt you in the first place, he still found himself paranoid. Following you around every other night, making sure you were still here- still alive under the same sky as him, under the same sun and moon and stars. He told himself he was doing it for you- even if he found his heart swell every time he saw the familiar glint of the silver trinket around your ankle.

-----

“No way!” You find yourself laughing around a mouth full of mochi.  

“No- I swear he likes you, he just doesn't want to admit it, you know how he-” 

“What are you two talking about?”

You both immediately snap your mouths shut as he returns from the restroom, sliding into the seat on his side of the booth. 

“Nothing!” you reply in unison. 

“Anyways, do you want me to get you anything else? Something that this idiot wouldn't shove into my mouth?” You joke, tapping your pen against the notepad. 

“Hey! I just wanted you to taste how delicious the mochi was!”

“I know- I made it!”

A loud cough breaks your banter with the light haired boy, 

“I-I do actually want to ask for something”

“Of course, what can I get you? The ginger tea you like?”

“Well- what I want is-” he pauses, and you don’t miss the mischievous glint in the eyes of his friend sitting across the table. 

“I’d like to take you to the festival at the park.”

You’re halfway through writing it down on the notepad before you realise what he’s asked, your head snapping up to see the slightly flushed tint on his cheeks as he glares at the howling boy across the table. Your own face heats up as he looks towards you expectantly. 

“You don’t have to if you-”

“Pick me up at 4”

“Oh” butterflies race in your stomach at the smile that he gives you, “...okay, 4 it is.” 

------

Weeks go by and you don’t realise the slow mending of your heart. Your broken pieces coming together each time he holds your hand, each time he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, each time he whispers words of affirmations into your ear, and each time he comforts your shaking body, apologising for kissing your brow- even if he doesn’t understand why it made you cry. 

Eventually, you learn to not mind being just a mere star in the vast expanse of the cosmo.

You didn’t care because he looked at you like you held the universe in your eyes, cradling your face with such gentleness as if you were precious china. You didn’t care because when his lips came down onto yours, it felt like the collision of stars- your own little supernovae in the curve of his cupid’s bow. You didn’t care because when you woke up, you’d find him peppering kisses across the purple constellations he left the night before. 

You didn’t care because you never woke up cold and alone anymore.

------

“I’ll be back in just a second.” 

You find yourself saying as you move your head off his lap, waving to your other two friends, their own counterparts lounging beside them. 

“Is everything okay?’ 

He’s always so tender- except for when he has you splayed across the bed on your stomach, hips thrusting into yours as he tells you what a good slut you are for him- just for him. Heat crawls up your face at the memory from a few nights ago. The fingers wrapping your hand snap your mind out of its perverse refuge. Looking down, you find concern-filled eyes staring back at you. 

“Yeah, I just want to take a walk alone by the beach- get some air.” You reply, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips.  

The sound of the waves lapping against the shore in the dark and the fresh sea breeze on your face is refreshing. You make a mental note to thank Nobara for dragging you onto this trip. You stop as you find a cozy spot in the sand, giving you a perfect view of the moonlit sea.

You don’t know how long you sit there, thinking of a particular set of emerald eyes and long lashes, your smile faltering as the promise ring on your finger grazes the forgotten metal on your ankle. Your face remains neutral as you unhook it, even if it feels like cutting your own hand off, but that’s all there is to it - familiarity and nostalgia. There’s no blackhole in your chest, ready to open up and swallow you whole, there are no tears shed as you bury the piece of junk into the sand, and there is no looking back as you walk away, back into the arms of your precious ‘gumi. 

Gojo stands at the rooftop, one hand clutching the sand covered jewellery, the other pulling down a side of his blindfold as he watches you entangle yourself in the arms of another, laughing as he places a kiss on the top of your brow. You’re happy, that’s all that matters- still, the irony of the situation pricks at him - especially after all he did to keep you away from his world. 

He had initially found himself at a loss for words when you had told him that he was the moon, and you, just a star. If you were to ask him again, Gojo would agree, but with only half of it.

He may have been the moon, but you were a galaxy full of stars and planets that harboured dreams and wishes he could never fathom. His mind kept flickering back to the constellations he littered your body with as he now watched his own disciple press kisses into the crook of your neck. 

Nonetheless, he found his own lips twitching upwards- almost tragically, but the warmth in his chest was real as he saw the joy on your face. You were right; he was the moon after all. He had shone as bright as the sun itself despite not having any light of his own. Now he stood there watching the same light reflect off the dark-haired boy who held you in his arms, and suddenly, it all made sense.

Perhaps he should have found another way back then. Perhaps he shouldn’t have underestimated his ability to be able to protect you. Perhaps- 

it didn’t matter now. 

perhaps at the end of the day, the moon was nothing but a dreamer.

© suna-reversed — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated.

[books-and-catears]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write some headcanons on how the brothers would react to the alternate timeline MC (the one killed by belphie, rip) haunting the house of lamentation? I just think some angst would be neato. Keep up the good work! I love your writing <3

Oh how much I love this concept. With all the ghost MCs I've been writing this fits in perfectly. How I love writing angst hehehe thank you for this wonderful ask

Thank you so much for your kindness. I hope I can do this justice :')

It has been months since you've been gone. Your body buried in the human world, and yet your soul still felt like it was lingering.

They could see you - a glimpse here, a whisper there and your presence everywhere. Almost as if you just walked past them into your room, and lay curled up in bed with Satan's new books or Levi's new manga. Only you weren't.

The bumps in your bed were just pillows and blankets. The extra chair stood out like a sore thumb. They would so often call you and then feel stupid for expecting a response. Except you had started answering back now.

Lucifer could often hear paper rustling in his sleep. And when he woke up he found the paper work was done more than he remembered doing.

He found his favourite tea brewing whenever he was too tired. And it tasted exactly how you used to make it.

At first he thought it was some sort of sickening joke from his brothers so he threatened to punish them if they didn't come clean. But it was none of them.

Then...MC? Did you come back somehow?

He went into a secret frenzy, looking for you everywhere. Sometimes when the house was empty, he screamed out your name, he could hear your voice softly calling back from your room.

Soon those soft vague sounds became his only comfort - he became super strict about silence in the house. He refused to have any other tea than the one he found magically brewing. He'd always kiss the cups before drinking from them, and his eyes would sting with unshed tears.

___________________________________________

Mammon might be scared of ghosts. But not you. Never you. Especially when he could feel your weight in his arms whenever he missed you too much.

Maybe the sensation was more vivid, since he was the last one to hold you alive. He could also see you. A faint shadow that walked beside and waved to him whenever he was in your room.

And though the shadow had no face, he could tell it was smiling. He felt calm around it. Like you never left. He denied your death the most and now there was reason to.

He barely left the house and most of the time he just stayed in your room. That's where he had most memories with you. Sometimes he found coins and Grimm strewn around your bed, as if you'd left it there for him. He took them and stored them away, never to spend them.

He was overjoyed when he saw your shadow in his room. He started talking to it like it was you, pressing his lips against the walls where you appeared and watching your shadow reaching up to touch his shadow, holding it tight. In those moments he swore he could feel your arms around him again. And on those nights, his pillows would be drenched with his agony.

___________________________________________

Leviathan first noticed it when he saw that Player 2 was always logged in, in all of his games. Even the ones that came months after you were longer there.

And while player two didn't actively play, he found boost items in his game inventory that he didn't achieve himself. You used to hunt down boost items to help with his battles and he protected you during the fights.

He starts getting even more into gaming, to the point where he forgets to go out for meals. Mammon and Satan have to drag him out to eat. He often just sits there talking to himself as if you're still there.

Then one day, in the group texts of the game, he sees you text. Player 2: 'Go get him Levi! I got your back; we have a lot of ammo!" He forgot the game altogether desperately typing back a message.

You don't text as often as he would like, but he's always waiting for whatever you say. It's easily the best part of his day. If he fell asleep in front of the screen, he would wake up covered with a blanket and good morning message on screen. His brothers claim to never have gone inside so he knows it's you. He cries into the blanket you covered him with cause he misses you.

___________________________________________

Satan came to feel your presence in the strangest way. There was a particular cat that you were attached to. That cat started finding ways to sneak inside the house, in the library or Satan's room, holding small books in its mouth.

When Satan opened them up, he found petals of your favourite flowers tucked away in some particular pages. It resembled the way you marked your favorite chapters using colored bits of paper or bookmarks.

He figured out a way to talk to you. He made something that resembled an Ouija board and left a little cat shaped button on it. He tried it out in your room, and it worked. You were talking back. Not whole sentences but broken phrases and words. So he used yes and no questions from then onwards.

He often found new books in his room, a hint that you wanted him to read them. While reading, he could swear he felt your head rest on his shoulder as if trying to read with him. He also left books in your room to read. Though he missed your touch and your voice, the fact that you still talk to him gave him so much joy. He often kisses the books he gives you, hoping they reach your fingers and litters the pages with tear stains in hopes you'd see them and come back.

___________________________________________

Asmodeus screamed the first time he saw you behind him in the mirror. You were transculent, barely visible. But it was you and your distinct smile and wave of the hand, leaning against his bathroom wall, long streaks of dried blood near your neck. He could even smell you - your scent like flowers, firewood and old books.

He tries to talk to you, even tries to hold you but you're just an image. A reflection that reflects nothing but empty space. You don't seem to talk but you nod or shake your head in reply. He presses himself into the mirror as if trying to hug you tight.

But lately he hears whispers, very faint and barely there but he hears them. Always calling him somewhere where there is a mirror. Cause that's the only place he can see you. If you thought he was obsessed with mirrors then, you should see him now.

He almost covered his whole room up with mirrors so he could see you from all angles, making you feel as alive as he possibly could. He screams your name into his pillows. Maybe you would respond if he was louder?

___________________________________________

Beelzebub often passed by you room, all covered now, just like Lilith's. The door was always kept open but he didn't dare enter. But one day, a strong gust of wind blew it wide open as if urging him to enter. So he did.

On the bed he found some fresh treats placed right in the middle of your bed. It was the treats he loved to eat together with you. How did they even get here?

He sat on the bed and absent mindedly started eating. When he ate, he could hear your laughter and you talking - a surge of memories flooding his senses. And when he was done, he could swear he felt your fingers wiping his mouth.

Eversince then he refused to eat anywhere except your room and his brothers had to drag him to the table during breakfast and dinner. But whenever a new bakery or restaurant opened, he would bring all the food back only to eat it in your room. And he would smile, listening to saying how delicious the food is. He would often clutch at his chest and cry, missing the way you used to hold him whenever he was sad. Won't you come hold him now, MC?

___________________________________________

Belphegor couldn't feel a thing. The only way he knew you were still here was when he brothers acted strangely. He'd ask them of course, but they'd never reply to him. He was the reason MC was gone. Why would MC show themself to him?

So he observed his brothers, always cautious for every little thing that was out of place. He'd caught all his brothers crying at some point or the other. Especially in your room. So he'd curl up in your room to spend the night in there hoping to feel you like his brothers. Only he never did, and Mammon and Satan would scream and drag him out the next morning.

None of the brothers would let him inside of their own rooms either. They couldn't save you when it mattered. So now it was their way of protecting whatever essence was left of you.

Feeling dejected and guilty he went and locked himself inside his old attic. He rested his against the bars that locked him in. Isn't this where he first met you, MC? Sigh. You'd been nothing but kind to him so why did he-

"Belphie.." Then he heard it. For the first time in forever, he heard your voice again. Soft and kind - just like before. He looked up and through the bars, he saw the most familiar sight. You smiling at him through the bars, your fingers wrapped around yours. And just like that he broke down. He started howling in pain, as he tried to reach you, but his fingers slipped right through you. "I'm sorry I'm sorry come back please come back!" He cried as you disappeared into thin air again.

My Masterlist .

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

My Darling Cat Roommate

lmao this isn’t lambden, as the title may suggest. sorry folks

@stinastar hit me with some feels over and modern roommate au where Geralt just doesn’t know what to do to make Jask feel better and this happened. 

Warnings: We go into some Seasonal Affective Depression stuff here so like be careful with that if it triggers you, jask beats himself up a little, mentioning feeling numb at things that usually bring him joy, i swear in this one. I haven’t changed, dont worry lol

_______________________

Jaskier trudged home from work on Friday, exhausted but relieved he had the next week off. He wolfed down the leftovers Geralt had heated up for him and almost fell asleep on the couch before Geralt hauled him up and walked him into his room, where he promptly fell asleep on top of his duvet in jeans and his shoes. Sometime around when early morning coffee workers were getting up he undressed and snuggled under the warm blankets. 

When he woke to Geralt making a smoothie he was prepared to launch into a full ‘morning people’ rant, only to check his phone and realize it was 2pm. So, maybe he’d needed rest. 

It was still grey enough out that he shrugged and went back to sleep. 

When he woke up again it was dark and the TV was going. He wrapped up in his comforter rather than putting on sweats and shuffled out to the kitchen only because his stomach growled when he tried to roll over.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Geralt called over his shoulder as he floated past with the pasta he’d left in the microwave. 

Jaskier just grunted a small “Thanks,” before he disappeared back into his room. He scrolled through various apps as he ate and rolled back into bed. 

He might have fallen asleep, he might not, but he certainly didn’t get out of bed until his bladder absolutely demanded it on Sunday morning. 

Geralt intercepted him in the hallway before he could make it back to his room, “You feeling okay?”

“Hm? Why?” Jaskier took a moment to respond, staring at Geralt like he’d grown a second head. He knew his hair was probably greasy but he couldn’t look that bad.

“You slept all day yesterday.” Geralt looked like he was diffusing a bomb rather than talk to his roommate, “Did something happen at work?” 

Jaskier just shrugged, “I’m just tired.” And a little numb.

Geralt nodded, “I’m headed to the store. You sure you don’t want me to pick anything up for you?”

“I’m okay, Geralt…” he sighed, slipping past his brick wall of a roommate to slink beneath his blankets once again and make himself as small as possible. 

It was late January and the Seasonal Affective Depression was in full swing. He should have bought that fucking happy light when it was on sale. Should have bought the Vitamin D tablets he saw last week. Should have let Geralt drag him to the gym a little more when he felt the initial dip. Should have blah blah blah. He thought over every little thing he knew would have helped that he just hadn’t done and sighed, pulling his blankets tighter around him. He knew he wasn’t going to do any of it until it got bad enough that his hair would stick to his forehead once he hit this point. Might as well hurry it along so it could be over with. 

Geralt knocked on his door, snapping him out of his mini spiral. He hummed, not even bothering to turn over until he heard the rattle of the doorknob. 

“I know you didn’t want anything, but… uh. I was in the bulk section. Got you the peach things.” Geralt’s voice was lower and softer than usual as he raised the frankly massive bag of peach rings for emphasis before he set them on Jaskier’s desk. 

“Than-” Jaskier coughed when his voice came out raspy and broken, “Thank you.”

Geralt leaned against the doorframe for a moment, a curious frown on his face, “Bake Off is on in an hour if you wanna watch it.”

Jask forced a smile and shrugged, “We’ll see.”

Geralt pursed his lips and nodded, pausing a moment before pushing off the doorframe, “Okay.” 

Jaskier stared at the peach rings for a while after Geralt closed the door. Eventually he compromised with his brain and rolled out of bed onto his knees, waddling a couple of steps until he could reach the rings then launch back to bed. 

Normally he would have almost cried with happiness that Geralt had gotten his favorite treat. He loved it when Geralt did little things for him or thought of him enough to give him something, but he felt rather indifferent as he shoved the twentieth peach ring in his mouth. 

Without warning his door opened just enough for a plate to appear and be gently set on his desk.

Geralt muttered, “For the sugar high…” before his hand disappeared and the door once again shut. 

Jaskier almost smiled when he saw the neatly arranged concentric circles of Totinos Pizza Rolls on the plate. He got to his feet to fetch them this time. 

Around ten that night there was another knock at his door that pulled him from an hour long scroll through tiktok.

“Jask?”

“Yeah?”

Geralt held a big grey bundle in his arms, “Do you- Uh. I thought- weighted blanket?” He held his arms out with a hesitant smile. 

Jaskier sat up, “But don’t you use it to sleep?”

Geralt shrugged, unfolding the bean-filled blanket and laying it over Jaskier’s legs, “I’ll be fine.”

Jaskier stared at the ceiling for a while after he left, confused by Geralt’s suddenly attentive behavior. He would have expected the grouchy man to enjoy the silence that came with his bad days. For how much Geralt complained about his loud music, he certainly wasn’t expecting gifts. 

Geralt left a note in the kitchen Monday morning saying he’d made Jaskier a breakfast sandwich with instructions on how to warm it up without it turning soggy. Jaskier stood in front of the panini press reading and rereading the note as he heated his breakfast like it was in Old English. He ate at the kitchen table this time, annoyed with the crumbs in his bed, and counted up all the little gifts he’d been brought. He could come to only one conclusion.

Geralt was part cat. 

He’d stopped functioning and Geralt kept bringing him mice. 

He smirked and sent him a quick text, “Thanks for the breakfast. 👌 V  good.”

After breakfast, he decided maybe he could change his pajamas, but he stayed tucked under Geralt’s weighted blanket for most of the day. Every now and then Geralt would text him something stupid Eskel or Lambert did, or a meme he found on his break, and every time Jaskier would grin and send back an emoji. Words were out of reach but Geralt frequently only communicated in emojis and one-word sentences. He should get the message.

Jaskier fell asleep around two, really asleep not just the fitful light sleep he’d been having the last couple of days. He was rousted from a dream about a talking panini press by Geralt tripping over a pile of laundry and softly swearing as he tried to right himself without crashing into the bed or Jaskier’s lute. 

“Geralt? Darling, what are you doing?”

Geralt finally caught himself and nearly blinded Jaskier with a smile as he straightened up, “Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

Jaskier sat up and scratched at his hair, “Yes, but doing what?” 

“Oh! Yeah. Uh. I-” Geralt, still grinning, pointed to a small fern in a bright orange clay pot sitting on his windowsill. 

“You got me a plant?”

Geralt was practically beaming when Jaskier glanced back at him. 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a cat?” 

Geralt snorted, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “You’re feeling better?” 

Jaskier tilted his head, “I think so? What makes you say that?”

“You called me ‘Darling’.” 

A hesitant smile crept on Jaskier’s face. There was an echo of the usual all-consuming warmth spreading in his chest that he usually felt when Geralt smiled at him. He may indeed be feeling a bit better. Come to think of it he actually wanted to shower.

“I taped Bake Off. If you’re feeling up for a trek to the couch,” Geralt offered, forced nonchalance dripping from every word. 

Jask nodded, “Let me shower, then we can finish off the peach rings.” 

Geralt’s smile nearly stopped his heart, a sure sign he was nearing the land of the living again, “I got lasagna on the way home too,” he chirped as he jumped up and made his way to the door. 

“Hey, Darling?” It felt a little forced and goofy saying the pet name like that, but Jaskier just couldn’t help himself, “Thank you.”

Geralt’s smile softened, “Anytime.”

[vecnawrites]

For a short one, maybe a hundred words or so, how about Faunus ruby is about to into her heat so she asks jaune to tie her down in her bed, but come morning, jaune is the one who is tied down.

(Well, went 1,289 words over one hundred, but I don’t think you will be complaining...hope you enjoy this!)

Ruby panted, her tail wagging wildly. Already she could feel the uncomfortable warmth filling her body. It was happening, her heat was coming upon her. She would need help staying still; she was a right terror during it from what Yang said.

But Yang wasn’t here. Nor was Blake or Weiss, nor even Pyrrha or Nora...not even Ren! All of them having gone somewhere or other for the day, leaving only her and…“Jaune!” she gasped, shooting up and her cheeks flushed red as she thought about her crush, the boy she had fallen for over the months they had been at Beacon. She knew that he would help her without making a fuss out of it!

She rolled out of her bunk, nearly collapsing to the floor as her soaking panties pulled along her pussy, her legs quaking as she tried with everything she had to not just collapse on her face. Still, she found her core utterly drooling, lines of her sweet smelling honey oozing down her inner thighs.

She shuddered as she grabbed a bundle of Blake’s ribbons (she hoped her teammate forgave her for borrowing them, but she was certain she would, she had heats as well) and fumbled for her scroll, doing her best to type as the heat within her belly grew and grew, becoming stronger every moment.

~~~~~

Inside Team JNPR’s dorm room, Jaune blinked as his scroll dinged, notifying him that he received a message. Setting down his homework, he grabbed it and opened it, frowning as he read the garbled message that came from Ruby.

‘pEse cum 2 dom. Ned helP!’ well, it wasn’t like he could rightfully ignore that in good conscience, now could he?

Getting up he quickly made his way out of the dorm room and across the hall to RWBY’s dorm room and knocked, swiftly entering the dorm room and closing the door behind him.

Turning around, Jaune blushed brightly and turned away, cheeks on fire as he stared at the wall resolutely. “What the hell, Ruby?!” he gasped out, skin bright red as his mind ���helpfully’ played the image of Ruby completely naked in his mind on a feedback loop.

“Sorry, sorry! But...but I need help!” Ruby’s voice was heavy and shaking, panting almost, making him turn back, peeking over his shoulder to see her holding ties, no, ribbons, in her shaking hands, her tail wagging quickly behind her...although her felt things happening as that wag translated to other parts of her body deliciously, like her surprisingly sizable breasts shaking and bouncing, her nipples taut and hard.

“M-my heat is coming on, a-and I n-need to be restrained!” a loud whipping noise filled the air as her tail went into overdrive as she looked at him hopefully. “W-Will you help me?” she asked, silver eyes wide and bright with hope.

Jaune swallowed, cock bulging outwards in his pants at the thought of tying a naked Ruby down, hovering over her-he bit back a groan as his cock throbbed hard; he had always thought the cheerful wolf faunus girl as beautiful, but he had never wanted to risk the friendship they shared by trying anything...avoiding Yang’s wrath was certainly another plus as well.

But to hear such earnest pleas for help...he couldn’t say no to her.

Turning around (and making very sure to keep his eyes on her face), Jaune took the ribbons from her hand, missing how her pupils dilated and she froze completely still. “S-So you want me to restrain you, Ruby?” he asked, pleased that his voice didn’t crack, but pausing when he received no answer. “Ruby?”

Glancing down, he was met with a face full of rose petals, causing him to sputter, before he was slammed in the back and knocked into the bottom bed, his world spinning as he landed on his back.

“OOOOOOFFFF!!!” he grunted as something landed on him, hard, before his arms and legs were yanked apart and tied to the head and baseboards. Looking up, he saw a naked Ruby straddling his thighs, her tail going absolutely wild behind her as she stared down at him hungrily.

“Hah...hah...sorry, Jaune…” she panted, her orange-sized breasts heaving, nipples hard and taut, pussy absolutely drooling down her inner thighs and leaking onto his jeans. Her fingers stroked his bulge gently, her tail wagging even faster somehow, her eyes getting even more hungry before-

-RRRIIIIIPPPP!!! Jaune couldn’t help but release a loud yelp as Ruby tore his jeans and boxers open, his hard cock flopping out and standing tall and proud. His thighs bunched in a vain attempt to hide himself as Ruby pulled more, tearing the fabric further, exposing his hips and his balls in full.

His cheeks burned more as Ruby squeaked in joy and cradled his cock in her warm, small hands, nuzzling her soft cheek against his hard flesh. This position happened to arch her rear end up, allowing him to see the jiggle of the bubbly swells of her rear as she sniffed delicately along his cock, burying her nose in his sack, inhaling deeply, her tail practically vanishing from how fast it was moving. “Mate...mine, mine, mine, mine, mineminemineminemine~” she chanted, before hopping up onto his lap properly, hovering above his shaft and rubbing his leaking tip with her soaking lips. “Mineminemineminemine-”

Schlickt!!

Jaune cried out and Ruby howled as she sank down on him, her swollen lips wrapping around his cock firmly, her inner walls clenching around him tightly and flexing, like a hand moving around his hard shaft.

“Ohhhh...matematematematematemineminemineminemine~!” Ruby chanted, hips immediately vanishing in a blur as she activated her semblance and rapidly moved upon him, whining, whimpering, howling as her walls flexed and squeezed around Jaune’s cock in an attempt to pull all the cum from his balls.

Which she received with a vengeance.

Jaune growled in pleasure, bucking upwards as his balls tensed, pulsing in his sack as they expelled large thick shots of their backed up contents, delivering them straight into the depths of Ruby’s flexing and grasping core, filling her womb.

Ruby howled, even louder than before as she clamped down hard on her new mate’s cock, her walls swelling and locking down around the thick stalk of flesh, flexing and milking it for everything it was worth. She whined and shifted, her pussy going wild as she slumped down, landing face first on her mate’s chest, hearing the heavy thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat, smelling the spice and salty tang of sweat clinging to him as she rolled her hips, tugging the hard flesh back and forth.

“Matematematematemate…” she hummed, turning her head and kissing his chest, her sweaty hair sticking to his chest, her boobs squishing against his torso as she trembled in prolonged orgasm, her walls continuing their suction and job of emptying Jaune’s balls. A canine grin stretched across her face as she heard Jaune grunt underneath her and felt more hot wetness shoot up into her body, filling her with more of his wonderful warmth. Pussy flexing more around him, she snuggled close to him, breathing deeply if his scent.

Licking his skin, she decided on a small quick nap before continued lovemaking. “mmm...love you, mate…” she growled softly, happy and truly content for the first time in a long while, as she slowly drifted into a state of rest.

Jaune’s eyes widened as he heard Ruby’s words, his mouth dry...although that could be because all currently bodily fluid he had was being sucked slowly out of his cock. He hadn’t expected this to happen when he came in, or for feelings to be revealed...especially after she had tied him down and mounted him like a pony.

Taking a deep breath, he searched his feelings. How did he feel about Ruby? He knew he cared for her deeply, thinking of their interactions with one another. “Holy...I love-nghhh!” Jaune was cut off as another orgasm was milked out of him, his balls trembling as they expelled another thick load of cum into Ruby’s grasping depths.

He panted, looking down at the peacefully napping wolf girl on his chest. Feelings could wait until Ruby woke up, he supposed, trying to settled as best he could while his cock was being so constantly stimulated…

...but there were much worse fates to go through to be sure.

[aerial-jace]

In the name of The Father, and of The Son, and of The Holy Spirit

Many thanks to @mallowstep not only for inspiring many, many aspects of the Baby Brother Lionblaze AU with his own fantastic Human Misty AU, but also for giving me the prompt that led me to write this whole thing. If anyone has any more requests or questions feel free to send them in. I’d like to work more on this, and other AUs I’ve written about in blog posts here, in between our work together with the exile AU.

Jayfeather climbed onto the back of the car and Hollyleaf drove them away. Talking it all through with Leafpool had taken them most of the day and neither of them knew yet what to think of it all. It had been a rough time for everyone ever since the arson, but at least this loose end they could say they were making progress on tying up. The car ride back to the apartment they were renting while they sorted out their new house was silent.

"Oh, hello!" called Squirrelflight as they entered, her tone chipper as always, almost as if nothing had happened. Neither realized she'd be out of the hospital today. "Want to come meet your little siblings?"

"Sure," Jayfeather replied in a tired voice as he made his way to the space in the couch where his mother sat. He guessed Hollyleaf must've shook her head, as he heard her footsteps going in the direction of her room instead.

"His name is Alderkit," she said as she handed him the bundle to hold. "And his sister is Sparkkit."

Being in there, holding his little brother in his arms, Jayfeather let himself feel at peace for the first time in a long while.

***

Jaypaw was suddenly jerked away from dreamless sleep as he felt himself hover above his own body. Had he been able to he would've groaned. He hated it whenever his sleep would be interrupted in the middle of the night for this. At the very least he'd learned to tune out that sensory overload from feeling like everything in his room was up close and within his touch.

He lingered there for a moment, his body feeling limp and unresponsive. And then a sensation of warmth washed over him. He heard a booming voice call his name, the kind of voice that would say "Be not afraid!" Jaypaw wanted to put his hands to his ears badly, but he still lay there, limp, floating, feeling the texture and shape of every object in his room as if it was right to his hands.

Jaypaw woke up hyperventilating. Cursing under his breath at the experience, he went back to sleep. When would God get the message that he didn't want anything to do with him?

***

"I think Sparkkit's hungry!" Jayfeather called out as she heard her wake up with a cry. And sure enough as Squirrelflight came to her, it was indeed that. Over time he'd gotten a hang of what each of their cries meant. He surprised even himself from time to time with how much accuracy he could diagnose the problem just from paying a little extra attention.

Now that Hollyleaf had returned to campus, he didn't have much to do to pass the time other than studying. The babies were good companions, at least for now. Most afternoons he could just sit with them as they slept away, and with Squirrelflight still within reach, whatever came up could be swiftly resolved.

For a moment, he tried to remember what Lionpaw had been like this young. A surge of affection grew within him as he let himself reminisce, remembering the sheer joy he and Hollyleaf had experienced from the moment they first got the news. That night, he pulled Lionpaw into a hug, for a moment letting himself forget that terrible night.

***

Every Sunday, the same words, the same songs, the same stand up-sit down-stand back up routine. It grated on Jaypaw more and more each time they repeated it and he wondered what kind of narcissist would need this many sycophants. Why did everyone even keep praising that guy? In his opinion, he'd done a shit job with the world. And he had the audacity to keep demanding obedience from them? It was that part that got on his nerves the most.

***

If Alderkit proved to keep being this difficult, Jayfeather couldn't imagine lasting very long before he tore out all his hair in frustration. They were running out of ideas for what his issue could be pretty quickly, and it didn't help that he'd been up for God knows how long. Would he even have been able to interpret his cries had he been well-rested?

And the worst part of their temporary accommodations was just how no one was safe from the noise. It'd gotten to the point where the best they could try was just to keep rocking him in hopes he would calm down eventually. Brambleclaw, Lionpaw, and himself were gathered on the couch, waiting with heavy drooping eyes as Squirrelflight took charge.

The moment Alderkit shut up, Jayfeather basically dropped to sleep right where he sat. At least he'd learned now, those two couldn't be calm forever. In the morning he woke up with a blanket draped over him. He gave a loud yawn and before he began with his morning routine he took a moment to visit Alderkit at his baby basket, where he mercifully still lay sleeping like a rock.

***

"Are you sure you're not coming?" Hollypaw asked, her voice filled with hurt. They'd made a stop at their aunt Leafpool's house to pick her up and drop him off with Mothwing.

"I'm sure," Jaypaw replied, a thorn stabbing through his heart. He and Hollypaw had always done everything together but this was just one thing he couldn't do.

"You're not getting confirmed with me," she reminded him as if he didn't know. Her tone was turning into more of a plea, more of a sob. "Please, don't you want to be there for me?"

The no that he wanted to say to her got stuck in his throat and she reached a hand to his own, holding it with a shaky grip. The guilt that raced through his mind was immense and in that moment he wanted against all his wishes to say yes. He wanted to do anything to stop her sister from feeling bad.

"Hollypaw," came Brambleclaw's voice just in time to save him from saying something he'd regret. "Your brother has every right to not want to go."

Defeated, she let go of him, and he went into the house with his aunt. At least he'd have company as the feeling of guilt kept swirling inside him.

***

"You don't have to come inside if you don't want to," Hollyleaf reassured him as the rest of his family exited the car.

"I want to be there for them," he told her.

"It's their baptism, they won't remember," she replied. "I know how much it bothers you. Seriously, it's fine."

Jayfeather sighed. "It's at least in part about them, and I want to be in there for that part."

"If you say so."

They walked together to the reserved pew in the front row and they took their seats. Jayfeather remained at the edge of it while she sat right besides Lionblaze closer to the aisle. He shifted around in his seat a little as he remembered the familiar texture of the furniture, the smell that was soon to be drowned by the fragrance of incense, the chatter that would soon be replaced by the same collection of sycophantic hymns. It made him sick to his stomach to think he'd agreed to this, but he'd endure it.

He felt someone sitting to his right, laying her hand on top of his which rested on top of his leg. He could recognize that touch anywhere: his aunt Mothwing had picked a place just besides him. He took her hand into his own, and took a few deep breaths, grateful for the silent support.

It was agonizing sitting through a whole service, but at least he could focus on Mothwing's touch whenever it was just the routine words and not an addition for the baptism. And though she did stand most of the time as she was supposed to, when the congregation stood to recite the baptismal vows, she remained seated in solidarity with him.

Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight took their seats after the prayer for peace, and Jayfeather slipped away to wait out the Eucharist and the final blessings. As he slumped on the back seat of the ca, he felt the sickness from before fade away, replaced by a warmth he didn't realize was there before. He lingered on it, letting a smile creep on his face. If only for this moment, it'd been worth it.

***

"Jayfeather?" Alderpaw asks, standing at the entrance to the kitchen. His older brother is preparing to cook breakfast for himself and Sparkpaw; he and his parents will eat on their way back from the Sunday service.

"Yes?" he calls back, closing the fridge door as he pulls out a milk carton.

"Do you believe in God?" he shyly mutters out, swallowing back the knot on his throat.

"Of course I do," he replies non-chalant as he continues going about his routine.

Alderpaw shifts about, unsure of where to go next. "Do you only stay back because of Sparkpaw then?"

"No," he replies, raising his head towards the approximate direction of his younger brother. "I don't see why I should go there once a week, do that whole song and dance, beg forgiveness from such a-" Whatever he was about to say, he bites back. "I don't get along well with God."

"But aren't you afraid?" Alderpaw asks.

"Of Hell?" Jayfeather asks, his voice almost incredulous. "If I go there it'll be my own choice. Getting tortured for all eternity will just prove my point, really."

Alderheart stays silent for a moment, still shifting about as Jayfeather resumes his cooking. He is unsure if he should say something more and just as he's about to speak up again, his brother says takes the initiative, "Are you beginning to doubt?"

"Yes," Alderpaw admits, releasing the tension building up in his throat.

"Hollyleaf doesn't believe, she'd be better to talk to about this stuff," he replies simply.

"But she goes to church with us whenever she's visiting," Alderpaw protests, his voice rising in surprise.

"I don't know what she sees in it either," Jayfeather replies. "But it goes to show it's not an all or nothing." Once again he turns away from his cooking and faces his brother. "You have your whole life to figure it out. Don't rush into it."

"Alderpaw! We're leaving!" calls out Squirrelflight from the front door.

"I'm coming!" he replies. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Jayfeather says back to him as Alderpaw turns around to leave.

[lafox]

Hello, I've been reading I lot of your fics and fell in love with them. You writing is great♡♡

Will it be if I ask for Zenigata x Injured Reader? Like the two of them are partners on a case and they get hurt protecting . Thank You. :>

Thank you so much for this request!! i was waiting in my dark, gloomy room for this one hahah!

It’s gonna be pretty angst XO

This is going to be pretty long cause i really got carried away! but i really hope you enjoy. Prepare you tissues and a pillow to squeeze your frustration! Please send me more Zenigata stuff i beg!

You were both on your daily mission to get Lupin in his gang over the cold, rusty metal bars. You had planed out what could possibly be the tricks and outplays that could play out throughout the day. Zenigata was a dedicated man and you learnt that throughout your journey with him. He was creative, strong and a bit clumsy but how can you not with such a strong figure walking around.  

"So we have everything ready?" you asked inpatient. He started at our notes and blue prints intensively.

"Almost." He paused and lifted his head to meet your eyes. 

"We just need to confirm everything." You groan but deep down, you enjoyed spending time with him, even if it was things that wasn't your cup of tea.

After checking once more and giving each other quizzes on the different situations, the only thing you had to wait for the radio to alarm us of any Lupin activities. You stood up out of your spot and directed yourself to the kettle siting on you right. You reached the top drawer and took two noodle cups. He formed a smile on his face and closed his eyes in approval when you showed him the cup. You were both eating when you asked a question that wasn't in the blue prints.

"What do we do if one of us gets hurt..?" You said with hesitation. His eyes widened as he raised his brows. For a split second he didn't move until he swallowed his noodles. He looked away, trying to think for an answer. 

"What are you saying, it will never happen cause I'm here!" You laughed at his response and smiled at him.

"Seriously Koichi-" You stopped your trail of words as his eyes were looking through yours. Was it a mistake that you called him by his first name? He frowned and looked away.

"Well if it happened then-" Zenigata get's cut off by the radio signals and quickly reaches for it. 

"We have located Lupin and his gang around the Louvre Inspector."

"Do not move until I command you too!" He replied. He grabbed his coat and you followed him. At the scene the both of you join Zenigata's officers and salute them. They salute you back and explain the situation. There was a high chance that they would be more gangs than Lupin's so Zenigata had to take a decision. Haft of his forces on the hunt, the others on the watch. They would take the main door to the Louvre as both of you would take the exits. Everyone were ready, like robots with their own commands.

"They are... very well disciplined." you said uneasy.

"We only have the best for these kinds of cases, that's why you are here." You said as he flashes you with a smile. You didn't budge until we started to move. You followed him, still flustered about his comment.

You were almost at the exits of The famous Louvre until you heard something from afar, Inspetor Zenigata didn't move or react to it until it was too late. 

The cop was right...

 You saw the light afar and push the inspector way. 

It happened so fast.

You never felt this kind of pain before.

The intense warms in your lower abdomen told you everything you need to know about the situation.

You fell to the ground almost unconscious. 

Zenigata grabbed his gun in a flash and shot at the right direction. There was a heavy silence. You looked at the city lights, concentrating on the beautiful Parisian lights.

Someone called a name, multiple time, until you realized it was yours. You opened your eyes a bit more and felt your body being flipped to your back. You saw the Inspector's face of worry but, it reassured you. He was a comforting presence to be with.

You saw him call the radio in panic until he ripped your shirt to see the wound. He got to work and took the ripped part of your shirt and covered the wound for it to stop bleeding but- 

"Stay with me would ya!" 

'I'll stay.. i'll stay' You said to yourself. You knew you were losing a lot of blood, 

You knew,

He knew. 

"Please don't close your eyes and look at me!" He yelled. It woke you up a bit of your thinking. 

"I-" You managed to say as you grit your teeth when his hands pressured your wound.

"What do we do." You exhaled,

"If one of us get hurt?" you finished. His eyes widened at your question.

"Tell me." You struggled. You budge him out of his shock.

"We stop the mission, we stop everything!" he answered.

"Why?" Zenigata frowned and grit his teeth. You saw his sweat slowly falling down his cheek to his chin. He took his hat off and gently put it on your chest. You help a grip on it, of all the strength you had to not fall unconscious. You felt your slowly being heavier and heavier. 

"Don't leave me like Laura did..." That was the last thing you heard. 

The next thing you knew, you felt a sheets covering your lower body. You tried opening your eyes but the room was so light. You blinked a few times before your eyes fully opened. You looked down at your arms already habited by needles in your skin. You were still holding Zenigata's hat, now it was all bloody from the event. You looked to your right and you saw the grey door, closer to you the liquid going into your body, standing there. You slowly turn you eyes to your left. You saw a big figure, sitting there with his eyes closed and crossing his arms like the men in their 40's sleeps like when they sleep on a couch. You didn't want to wake him up until you accidently knocked out the radio sitting on the left little table between the two of you. You couldn't reach it from down here, your abdomen was on fire. His eyes met yours, you felt like you were caught.

"Good morning." You said with an awkward smile. He reached for the radio and put it back on the table. He was silent in his movement. You didn't budge a centimeter, it was unlike him to be the silence type. His got closer to you with his chair. You felt yourself being wrapped up in his big arms, your head was resting on his chest. after a few seconds, he let go and you looked back at him. He looked horrible, he had dark circles under his eyes, yes, even more than usual and his eyes were red, like he cried.

"Are you okay?" you asked him. he didn't respond to you and laid his head on the bed close your waist and became silent. You understood his message and laid down as comfortably as you could be and watched him sleep. You really wanted to run your fingers on his hair but hesitated. Now isn't the time to show that kind of affection, so you put your hand on his shoulder and rested.

 Later on when a nurse came in to check up on your condition, you signaled them to be quiet as Zenigata was in a deep sleep. You talked to the nurse a bit and learnt that Zenigata had stayed all night and all day to keep a watch of you. You didn't even know how long that must've been. More detailed came out the nurse's mouth. He almost never let go of your hand, cried some nights and always pushed his work away. You looked back at Zenigata's sleeping figure and sat there, shocked. After the nurse left, you felt horrible and had many questions in mind;

-Why did he not continue and chase Lupin?

-Why did the other cops didn't come to help?

-Who is Laura?

-How many people did he lose?

You looked at Zenigata and directed your hand to his head, running your hands through his hair. It felt satisfying, it gave you some sort of serotonin boost. You stopped to concentrate on a book you request from the nurse. Suddenly you felt a hand gently grabbing yours, he directed your hand around his hair. You smiled and ran your hand in his hair again. You heard a a sighed of satisfaction from his and you continued reading your book.

Later that day, Zenigata woke up from his slumber. He opened his eyes to see you, reading your book in peace. He bolted of joy and raised himself of your hospital bed. 

“You’re awake, you’re awake!” he said. You only chuckled at his childish side and he sat back down. Last time he woke up, he was so exhausted he forgot. 

“Good afternoon Koichi.” You smiled at him. He paused his tracks and looked away all flustered. You smiled at him and put your book down. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked. 

“Only some abdominal pains, nothing more.” You responded. He grabbed your hand and enfolded it with his hands. You directed your eyes to him and he closed his. 

“I won’t let this happen ever again, I was not focus, I'm sorry.”

"Koichi..." You sighed.

"I am just glad, that you are still living why did you do it!"

"Well..." You paused.

"We only have the best for these kinds of cases, that's why i'm are here"

Koichi only smiled and stayed next to for the rest of your trip at the hospital. He was glad, glad to have one the best partners in the world.

__________________________

Thank you so so much for this request!

You probs have seen that i'm way more active. Thats because school is almost over so i have some time off YEY! So there will be more writing from now on!

-Chlo

My Ask is still closed sorry..

[killian-spey]

Death Would be Kinder [ch.1]

[Drusilla/Spike/Calendar!Reader]

Words: 2626

Fic Concept: Jenny Calendar’s sister spends some “quality time” with the Season 2 Vampire Squad. [Ch.1 takes place in BtVS S2 Ep14]

TW/CW: Kidnapping, Violence, Nightmares.

AN: Check out the [Prologue] first if you haven’t already! :D

Tags: @prose-for-hire , (Comment below or send an ask to be added!)

You had run through the sewers for hours before you pulled yourself out of a manhole halfway across town. Escaping from the factory had worn you out completely, and you made your way home, hoping that Angel and Buffy had done the same.

When you got home, Jenny was asleep on the couch. It looked as though she'd been waiting up all night for you. You tucked a blanket over her and took her empty tea mug to the kitchen before going upstairs, where you flopped into bed and immediately found sleep.

You opened your eyes in the dark and two stormy grey eyes were staring into yours. You sat up confused as your eyes adjusted to the dark. A moment passed, then a new pair blinked into existence; they were blue, cold and unmoving. Their faces grew recognizable and a pit of anxiety grew in your stomach. Spike was leaning against your window sill. Drusilla was laying on your bed, reaching for you with one hand. You stumbled backwards with a yelp, falling onto your floor. Yellow eyes flashed once in your peripheral and then everyone was gone, just as quickly as they'd all appeared.

As you stood up, you found yourself in the factory. It was brighter here, but cold and empty. You spun, looking for an exit. Flashes of images knocked you off balance like punches. A red dress, flowing ribbon, blonde hair, black hair, crooked smiles, pointed teeth. Bells rang in your head, you saw a wheelchair, then painted red nails, then a ridged face. Your head was spinning. You were spinning. Faster and faster until you felt nauseous.

It stopped suddenly. A single thought pierced your adrenaline-rushing head. Soon-

You opened your eyes with a gasp, staring at the ceiling of your bedroom. It was morning and your alarm was going off. You stayed there a few minutes, snoozing the alarm so you could let your heart catch up with reality -or rather slow down to reality- before you got ready for the day and hopped in the car with your sister. Seems Buffy wasn’t the only one having bad dreams about vampires that should've been dead. Lucky you...

As it turns out, Buffy and Angel didn’t check in after last night’s screw up at the factory; thankfully Buffy came into school a couple minutes later to confirm she was still alive. The same couldn’t be said for Angel though, so tensions were high among the Scoobies while researching the Judge.

You were asked to use your artistic skills to draw the Judge to the best of your memory while the others looked into tomes with written references. The world tended to pass you by when you were drawing, so you almost didn’t notice when your sister left the library. She had been summoned by your Uncle, but for what you didn’t know. Not long after, the lights went out.

You stalked out of the library, seeing Xander, Willow, and Angel in the lobby of the school just down the hall. Willow was making her way towards Angel when-

“Willow, get away from him.” Jenny came from the left, holding up a cross as she stepped towards Angel. Oh. Oh no. You pulled a stake from your belt and called out to Willow as calmly as you could muster.

“Willow, walk back towards me.”

“What are you two talking about? It’s just A-”

Angel lunged forward and grabbed Willow by the neck. Familiar yellow eyes peered out of the darkness of the hallway as Willow yelped, struggling against the choke hold.

“You’re not Angel anymore, are you?” Jenny walked closer to Angel.

“Wrong. I am Angel, at last.” He pulled Willow back away from Jenny, “I’ve got a message for Buffy.”

“Why don’t you give it to me yourself?”

The two of them exchanged words and fought, allowing Willow the opportunity to escape Angel’s clutches and join your huddled group on the outskirts of the fight. Buffy got shoved into the water fountain, dumbfounded as Angel walked out the door laughing. The fight was over as quickly as it started, and a blanket of stunned silence covered the whole group. After what felt like an eternity of numb, unmoving shock, you and Jenny gave each other a knowing look. You’d failed. Angel was gone.

You don’t remember how long you’d been sitting in the library, vaguely listening to the group tell Giles about the confrontation with Angelus. Jenny was trying to keep Giles from panicking, and you sat numbly with your guilt. You only looked up when Buffy fled the room, Giles calling after her. You wanted so badly to apologize, but if Buffy ever found out what you’d known, she might kill you herself. You excused yourself from the library, mumbling to Jenny that you’d be in the studio back home.

-----

The garage door creaked as you lifted it. Jenny had given you one of the car bays to use as an art studio while you lived in Sunnydale. Your studio was one of the only places you knew where you could truly be alone with yourself. Jenny had never judged you or your art. Ever since your parents died, she’d stepped up and been supportive of you. You brushed your hand along the top of your canvas stash, picking a large, almost square canvas and setting it on your easel.

Painting had been a way for you to cope with strong emotions for as long as you could remember, but with the events of today you felt lost. You sat on your stool in front of that blank white canvas for what must have been hours. You eventually decided that nothing could convey what you were feeling in the moment, so you decided to paint something the opposite.

You used cream-white, gold and rust to block out a background; it was light, idyllic, and serene. It would be a white-stone conservatory, full of hanging candles and lanterns with a mezzanine balcony covered in ivy. Over that you dropped bright, vibrant tones of yellows and reds and greens. You blocked them into the spaces you would put dancers in flowing gowns and painted blues where you would place their partners. It would be full of life. You stood back a moment, studying. The scene was missing something; joy and innocence, maybe. You place a few, short splotches of pinks and light yellows for younger girls. They were running in a small stampede, weaving through the forest of colorful silks on the dance floor- chasing after fairies or some magic that existed only in their imaginations. There it was. You had vague shapes and a vision, and you were intent on chasing it.

You painted all through the night, and well into the morning. Jenny had left for the school hours ago, but hadn’t said anything. The painting was finally done. You sat in your stool and wiped your hands on your jeans. It was done, you had worked for hours, you had cried for Angel, you had smiled for the imaginary children, and for a moment you were satisfied... Then you noticed it.

In the center of your painting was a lone dancer. She wore a red gown with dark lace over the bodice and had equally dark hair. Your painting was somewhat post-impressionist, preferring interesting shapes over pinpoint detail, but it was unmistakable. In a ballroom of strangers, you’d painted her. Drusilla. You didn’t know what to think about that.

You stared at Drusilla in the painting, stuck in an introspective daze until a creaking sound pulled you back to reality. Your uncle had opened the garage door and stepped into the studio bay with two cups of coffee. You pulled up a stool for him and he handed you one, sitting beside you in front of the painting.

“Janna called,” he began cautiously. “She is on her way home with your friend, Buffy. I don’t know how, but she knows.”

“She’s going to hate me for this,” You scanned the sweeping lines of a yellow skirt somewhere else on your painting, trying not to let the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes.

The door to the garage opened behind you both and you looked down into your mug, anxiously tapping your nail against the ceramic. You couldn’t bear to look Buffy in the eyes, your guilt returning in full force.

Your uncle lit a pipe and stood up as he spoke,

“She told me you would be coming. I suppose you want answers,”

“Not really.” The voice wasn’t Buffy’s.

You snapped your head towards the door to find Angelus leaning against the door frame, blocking your exit. You scrambled, picking up a fistful of wooden paint brushes off your work table in a desperate search for weapons. You spun back towards Angelus just in time to watch him snap your uncle’s neck. An arm smacked against your leg as he dropped onto the concrete floor- a sensation you would no doubt remember the rest of your life. You snapped a large paintbrush in half to give it a pointier edge, but Angelus grabbed your wrist before you could even make a move on him. This was the sickening moment you realized just exactly how tall Angelus was. Exactly how far above he loomed over you.

“Ah, ah.” He tutted at you with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to go angering the guy who holds your life in his hands, now would you?” He twisted your wrist until you let go of the brush, then wrapped his other hand around your throat and pushed you onto the worktable.

“You know, it really is embarrassing that you’re so darn fragile!”

He was laughing, but he was right. In comparison you were a mouse fighting a lion, you had no chance against him. You clawed fruitlessly at his hand, but he just squeezed harder. Your vision was already fuzzing out, and it was getting difficult to even see Angelus’ face clearly as he taunted you.

“Oh, stop squirming, you’ll be unconscious in a minute, kid. Lucky for you, I need some bait. So you get to live for a while, isn’t that exciting?!” His voice was giving you something tangible to focus on, but it was no use. Another moment and you were unconscious.

-----

Your head pounded like a drum when you woke up. You opened your eyes, but it took a while for them to adjust to the dim light. You tried to rub your eyes, but your hands were tied down to the armrests of the chair you were sat in. Your eyes darted around for any sign of Angelus, but found none. Everything was empty. Silent. Against your better judgement, you called out into the empty factory.

“Hello?”

You waited. No one responded, but you felt you were being watched.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you heard a small, soft melody coming from behind you. Humming. Your heartbeat kicked up a notch as you scanned the room.

“I can hear you going pitter-patter from here,” Drusilla had spoken from a place you couldn’t see. You heard each of her footsteps click closer and closer behind you until you could feel her standing just inches away. You let out a shaky breath and she shushed you quietly.

She ran her hands through your hair, dragging long red fingernails across your scalp. She began detangling your hair with her fingers, idly humming once again. You let your head tip back as she picked lightly at a particularly bad snag, dismantling it and continuing her exploration of your hair. By now you’d noticed you were crying, silently terrified and unnerved by the ministrations of the vampire behind you. She yanked a new snag in your hair and you couldn’t help the small yelp that escaped you.

“Is the doll hurting?” She pulled her hands away when she realized you weren’t going to answer her. She walked agonizingly slowly around your chair, stopping directly in front of you. “It’s rude to ignore people.” You stared at the floor, avoiding her gaze. You did notice, however horrified, that she was wearing a new, yet familiar, red dress with black lace.

You could feel her staring down at you, almost willing you to look at her. When you didn’t, she dropped to her knees to meet your eye line, resting her cheek on your knee. You studied her face as she ghosted her hand up and down your left thigh, occasionally picking at the smatterings of paint that were still all over your jeans.

“You’re an artist. I like artists,” She picked up her head and you chuckled nervously as she looked at you. In a morbid way, you were glad she liked you, whatever that meant. It might mean I live a little longer.

You looked up at the ceiling uncomfortably, then scanned the room for an escape, for something, anything you could do. She dragged her finger from your thigh up to your neck as she looked up at you. For a moment, you were scared she’d slice your throat, but she wrapped her hand around your jaw and pulled your face down gently to look at her.

“You’ll be my little pet Artist. We’ll have lots of fun together,” She stared into your eyes with a dangerous smile. She rubbed her thumb against your jawline -her hand still holding your face as she stood up- until she burst into a fit of giggles. She dropped your face and pulled her hands together, close to her chest, as she walked backwards a few paces.

As if she’d sensed him coming, Spike rolled into the room and stopped his chair just next to you. Drusilla gracefully perched herself on Spike’s lap and after a few minutes of flirting, Angelus came down the spiral staircase with the Judge, who voiced that he was ready to leave.

“About time.” Spike gave Drusilla a kiss and told her to have fun.

“Too bad you can’t come with, huh?” Angelus was taunting Spike and -despite your fear- you were studying the interactions for a better understanding of the relationships at play. Spike was staying behind under the pretense of watching you, but it was a thinly veiled jab at his current handicap. You watched silently as Angelus practically stole Drusilla off Spike’s lap before they left the factory. Spike stared at the doorway they'd left from for a while before he glanced back at you, staring at him. You dropped your eyes immediately, but it was too late.

“What are you lookin’ at?” He wheeled himself to the other side of the table.

“I won’t be in this chair forever. I’ll get back at him.”

“Of course you will.”

He squinted at you, probably just as surprised as you that’d you’d actually spoken back at him. He turned his chair and got up close to you again, murder glinting behind his eyes.

“Are you being funny? ‘Cause I could kill you in half a second, you know.”

“No, no jokes,” You shook your head at him, weakly lifting your hands within your restraints in surrender. The last thing you wanted was for him to prove just how tough he still is.

“Good, cause I would,” he pointed his finger at you as he continued on, “...kill you, I mean.”

“Right.” You squinted, processing.

“You’d do well to remember that.”

You pressed your lips together and nodded awkwardly. He stared at you about 7 seconds longer than he needed to before huffing and rolling off to another room. As soon as you were alone, you sighed in relief and stared up at the ceiling; only one thought in your mind.

Oh. My. God.

[warriorrazor]

Alright ya’ll we got some more content and context for the Spooky Family AU!

((And here’s some context for the context!))

This’ll be explaining how Lila came to learn about Pump being neglected by his father. I wanted this to be more of a summary, but I got a little too into it and it’s basically a drabble/mini story now (I even made some lil doodles to go along with it!) I had fun with it, but I’ll put a tl;dr at the end if y’all find it a bit too wordy.

Also quick warning, this post will most likely be darker than the other things I’ve posted about this AU so far! There are some parts that go more into the details of the kind of abuse Pump has been facing.

Since it’s a bit long, the story begins under the read more:

Lila started suspecting something when she noticed Pump getting noticeably skinnier and clinging onto her a lot. She became even more suspicious when she heard him mention to Skid that he doesn’t have many toys and that he doesn’t remember the last time he visited the doctor’s.

However, Lila didn’t want to assume anything. She had never even met Pump’s parents, and Pump always seemed to be in high spirits for the most part, just like Skid. The most she felt she could do was make sure Pump had fun whenever he came over.

That was until one fateful night.

Pump hadn’t had anything to eat for five days. He would always wait until his father would give him a meal to eat, usually once or twice a day. Some days his father would forget... or maybe he just didn’t care. Pump didn’t quite know at this point. He didn’t want to sneak food though, he was afraid his father would yell at him, or shove him away. Pump didn’t exactly know what neglect was, he only knew that he felt very, very alone. He would often find himself wondering, is this normal?

Pump couldn’t fall asleep, he was too hungry. He sat in his bed only surrounded by the darkness of his room. He thought about Skid and his mother Lila, and how she would always give him plenty to eat when he was there. He never felt hungry, upset, or lonely when he was there. He wished there was something he could do...

Thankfully, there was. The Eyes of the Universe, who had taken quite a liking to Pump, could sense his distress. He sent Pump a message in the form of uncovering a buried memory. Pump suddenly remembered a fleeting moment of when Lila sat next to him, patted his head, and told him that if he ever felt sad, alone, or unsafe, he would always be welcome at her home.

This sudden vivid memory was the boost Pump needed. He threw his covers off, ran out of his dirty room, snuck down the stairs, and dashed out the door. It was the middle of winter, but Pump didn’t think to bring a coat, or anything for that matter. His only thought was to make it to Skid’s house, the place of comfort, safety, and belonging.

Lila was sleeping soundly when she was suddenly roused by a loud banging coming from the door downstairs. Thinking it was probably a group of child pranksters, she covered her head with a pillow and waited for them to get bored and go away... except they didn’t. Now thoroughly pissed, Lila stomped downstairs and made her way to the front door. The banging had suddenly stopped. Curious, Lila took a peek into the peephole and saw... Pump? Feeling her heart drop, she opened the door to see him looking at her with wide eyes. He was shivering from the cold and tears were streaming down his cheeks. He ran over to her and wrapped his shaky arms around her. Lila hugged him back tightly, stroking the poor boy’s back.

She scooped him up and took him inside. Pump told her how he hadn’t eaten for a while (he couldn’t remember exactly how long), so she cooked him up a full course meal right then and there, in the middle of the night. Pump was afraid Lila would send him back home, but instead she carried him upstairs and tucked him into her bed. He clung to her arm as he slept, now full and safe.

.....

Lila knew she absolutely had to do something. With all the time she and Pump had spent together, he was like a second son to her. She wasn’t about to let Pump continue suffering. She woke up early in the morning, snuck out of bed without waking Pump, and immediately called CPS to report child neglect. She then proceeded to fight tooth and nail to gain custody of Pump (which was of course difficult because she is not a family member), but she does her research and takes every step possible. Pump’s father doesn’t make it easy. While he does neglect Pump, he’s still not giving up his son without a fight. But Lila is ready. She filled out all the paperwork necessary, she underwent a home study, she hired a lawyer and discussed everything that she needed to do and what evidence she needed to provide. She went to court completely and entirely prepared in every way. Though it was a long and grueling process, in the end the decision was made that Lila could gain custody of Pump. She almost cried of joy right then and there in the courtroom.

Now fully knowing what Pump has been through, Lila often punches herself for not acting sooner. But now that Pump is a part of the family, Lila tries her best to make up for this by giving Pump all the love and support she can.

Sometimes a child may become jealous if another child is doted on by their parents. Not Skid. In fact, he is incredibly happy that Pump is his brother, and he knows that Lila has more than enough love for the both of them. Seeing Lila care for his best friend and now new brother brightens his day.

.....

Tl;dr:

Lila suspects something is up with Pump since he’s become noticeably more skinner, clingy, mentioning things like not remembering the last time he went to the doctors, etc. Her suspicions are correct, and one night Pump is lying in his bed starving since his father hadn’t given him anything to eat for five days. Pump runs to Skid’s house and Lila feeds him and provides him comfort. Now knowing his situation, Lila fights for custody of him. She succeeds, and Pump is now a part of the family.

*****

Thank you so much for reading! At first I wasn’t quite sure how in-depth I wanted this AU to be, but receiving so many kind comments and ideas has helped me to flesh out this AU more than I thought I could! As always, feel free to add any comments/questions/asks/additions you may have, they’re super appreciated and help me so much with my writing and world building!

Now that I’ve written this out, I think I’d like to work on some doodles (maybe even minicomics) of this AU, especially because some really awesome people have come up with really great ideas and scenarios that can take place. Like seriously, y’all are so big brained, I love and very much appreciate all the ideas that have been offered for this AU.

[stevesharrlngtons]

what i want.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: takes place in s1 of hemlock grove just after roman’s coma and the aftermath.  

word count: 3.1k

a/n: yeaaahhhh so i know this is st related but it felt more right to post this here over my marvel account? anyways, i just really really wanted to write for roman and this poured out of me yesterday (which is surprising bc i can’t remember the last time i wrote a fic all in one day) but even though i already know this is gonna flop, i wanted to post it anyway just for fun (: i hope you enjoy and if you do read, please let me know that you think!!!!

With an ear pressed to his chest and a hand cradling his neck, you counted the rhythmic beats of his frail heart.

He looked the same, felt the same, smelt the same; but the man we lay still below you wasn’t Roman. Not in the metaphorical sense at least. This man who’s lashes lay gently against the apples of his cheeks obscuring his large doe eyes, wasn’t your love. He was still and quiet and lacked the emotion of your Roman. Your Roman who could never hide how he really felt, who wore every feeling on his sleeve, unable to mask his emotion.

At least, always around you.

A soft french ballad played in the background as you hunched over his hospital bed in the attic of the Godfrey home. You could hear the faint scratch of the needle against the vinyl, more so when there was a lull between songs.

Heavy footsteps entered from your right and you knew before they reached you that it was Shelly to fetch you for school.

“I know, Shell.” You said quietly, like you might wake Roman from his restless sleep if you spoke any louder, “I just need a few more minutes with him.”

The tall girl loomed over you both, watching you stroke Roman’s cheek lovingly with your thumb, the rest of your nimble fingers still holding his thin neck.

She had never experienced the kind of unequivocal and palpable love that she did when she observed you and Roman together. She often wondered if all the tales of true love and soulmates that were regaled in some of her favorite novels were actually true? Because the way you looked at Roman, and the way Roman looked at you, could not be fabricated or faked.

After a long beat of silence, Shelly gripped her phone and typed out a simple message to you.

“I miss him, too.”

She could see tears forming in your eyes once more. Your eyes that seemed to have not ceased their perpetual filming for the last two weeks Roman had been under.

All you could was nod in response. When Shelly placed a dense hand on your shoulder, you silently wept.

It all felt so surreal. But Roman was always larger than life, you probably should have prepared for something like this. You were just so scared.

That night two weeks before, when he had come to you in the pouring rain, drenched to the bone, you had been scared then, too. Roman was dramatic, yes. But never anything like this. He trembled fiercely and his fingers twitched and his muscles rippled with fear.

He didn’t seem himself as you wrapped him in blankets and placed him in your bed to warm his icy bones. You had wound your arms around him as he cried into your neck, tears and snot streaking your skin as you soothed him the best you could.

“I’m ugly, I’m a monster, I am unlovable and disgusting.” He chanted between hiccups and deep intakes of breath, like he was under a spell.

“Please stop, please don’t say that. You’re not, you’re not, you’re not. I love you, I always will.” You whispered sincerely to him, beginning to shutter yourself at the uncharatieric behavior he was displaying.

He startled you even more when he grasped your wrists together with one hand and flipped you onto your back, meeting you with a fierce kiss before you could comprehend his actions.

It was all teeth and tongue and labored breathing as Roman pulled your strings in only the way that he could. Once he was inside you, he only became more brutal. It was more pain than pleasure as he looked at you with soulless eyes and his mouth agape. But everything Roman was, was good. Even now he felt like heaven.

When he had finished and pulled two orgasms from your body, he collapsed on top of you. You cocooned him with your limbs, whispering loving words and frightened questions as his body seemed to pass out from sheer emotional exhaustion, anchoring you beneath him.

The next morning, you were dressed in nothing but Roman’s cardigan and tucked underneath your duvet with no knowledge of his departure the night before.

It was only minutes after you woke that Olivia called to curtly inform you of Roman’s condition.

You placed your own hand, the one not holding Roman, over Shelly’s and squeezed it.

“He is so lucky to have you.” You said, swallowing thickly to look up and give Shelly a smile, “He loves you so much, I know he’ll wake just for you.”

Shelly knew you were trying to soothe her as well, something you had a knack for since you came into the two Godfrey’s lives. She appreciated it greatly, but wished you would let yourself swim and stop trying to make sure she stayed afloat.

“You, as well. He will wake for us.” Shelly typed and you squeezed her hand in a tight pulse.

“We can only hope.”

You dropped Shelly’s hand as she went to turn the music off while you kissed Roman goodbye.

“Where, today?” Came Shelly’s mechanical voice as the music ceased.

“His left eyelid.” You replied, standing up and stroking Roman’s porecelain cheek.

You had taken to kissing a new part of Roman each day as you left him. To cherish him even while his mind was missing. You were saving his lips for when he woke, hoping his subconscious would crave your mouth on his enough to jar him from his slumber. Roman was never quiet about his appreciation for your lips.  

“And tomorrow?” She asked.

“The other.”

As you sat in english class, you couldn’t help but feel Peter’s absence in the seat next to yours. With neither him nor Roman around, you felt off kilter. The boys had been going through a rough patch lately, but Peter was still your friend when Roman wasn’t looking. Giving you winks that would reply with an eye roll, and chatting between classes. You believed you could mend the fence between the two men by simply being Switzerland, but after the police incident, Peter wasn’t so sure.

But you and Roman were alike in many ways, you told Peter as much.

“You two will work this out. Even if it gets hard.” You say flippantly one day as you rummaged through your purse for a tube of lipgloss.

“Yeah? And how do you know? Are you an oracle and just haven’t told me?” Peter jokes as you take the cosmetic from your bag.

You remove the fuzzy doe-foot applicator from the pink make up with a loud squelch and smirk at him.

“Because not only do I know everything,” a swipe of the goods on your lips, “But, I always get what I want.”

Now, his absence along with Roman’s seemed to be significant. Connected.

And then you got a call.

And the ID almost gave you a heart attack.

You fled the classroom without the formality of an excuse. It wasn’t any secret that you and Roman were a couple, so some teachers had been far more lenient with you since he had fallen under. Thankfully, Ms. Day was one of them.

You ran from the class and around the corner for the veil of privacy before you picked up the call.

“Roman?”

“God, how I’ve missed your voice.” He said, punctuated with his melodic laugh.

You burst into tears, clenching your phone tightly in your sweating palm as Roman cooed to you.

“Hey, hey, no. No tears, baby. Too fucking hot to be sad, you know that?”

“I’m not sad, God no! These are tears of joy, of fucking relief.” You felt suddenly very fatigued from the worry and dread escaping your body at the sound of Roman’s voice, and slid down the wall to the grey linoleum below.

“Good, hate to think you’d forget about me after two weeks out of commission.” You could see his smile in your minds eye and your stomach twinge with love.

“You know I could never forget about you.” You replied, whipping your damp cheeks on the back of your hand.

“I’m glad. I was counting on it.” You can see his smirk now.

“Dick.” You laughed and he did as well.

“Eh, you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

There was a silence and you wished so helplessly that he was in your arms. Your Roman. Not the still and sterile one. The one with a wicked tongue and a beautiful smile that he offered to you so freely.

It was in this silence though, that you heard the purr of an engine.

“Baby, are you in a car? Are you with Olivia?”

“Uh, no. Not exactly.” And the bubble of joy popped just as it had formed.

“Roman, where are you? Why are you in a car?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, my love.” He hummed quietly his adoration and immediately you knew what was happening.

“Put Peter on the phone.”

“How did you-”

“Just fucking do it, Roman.”

You could hear him curse, then the shuffle of the phone being passed between hands.

“Hey, (Y/N/N), how’ya doin’?” Peter asked, faking a calm tone.

“Let’s forget the goddamn pleasantries, Peter. What in the living fuck are you doing trying to track this wolf when Roman just rose from the dead?”

“Rose from the dead sounds a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Does it sound like I give a shit?”

“Frankly, no. It doesn’t.”

“And what does it sound like I give a shit about?”

“Probably Roman not doing this right now.”

“Bingo, Fiddo. Now you either take him back to his house or I am coming to find you two and I promise you, I can be scarier than Olivia.” You hissed into the receiver, looking around to make sure no rouge students in the halls were hearing your conversation.

“Oh I don’t doubt it. But this was his choice, (Y/N). Nothing neither of us can do anything to change his mind.”

“Peter, I swear to-” This time, you were the one cut short.

“Baby, listen,” Roman said after commandeering his phone back.

“No, Roman, you listen! I know you have some attachment to helping kill this thing, but now isn’t the time.”

“But it is. It’s complicated, but you just have to trust me on this.”

“I do trust you, Ro. I do. But I don’t trust whatever this thing is.” You sighed, leaning your head back against the wall, “Unfortunately I do trust what it is capable of. Which is a fuck tone pain.”

“I’ll be safe. I have Peter, Peter’s got me. I got this. We know what we’re doing.”

“Wish I could believe that.”

“Baby, I promise. I swear, even. We are gonna find some answers and then I’ll be home to you in one piece.”

You pause and Roman calls your name from the phone, his voice vulnerable.

“It’s funny. This morning you were in a coma and you were more safe then than you are right now.”

“I love you.” Roman says firmly.

“I know.”

Another pause and you know you can’t scold your way out of this one.

“Just… please call me when you get back. I don’t think I can take another minute of being away from you.” Your tears were beginning again.

“Me too. You’re all I can think about,” Roman sniffles, “I need you, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You both sit in silence on the line before Roman tells you he needs to go.

“Ok… but hey, Turner?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Hooch to be careful. Both of you just… be careful.”

“Always.”

And the line goes dead.

After school you debated going straight to the Godfrey residence to wait for Roman to return, but decided against it. You weren’t sure exactly what Olivia knew and didn’t know, and didn’t feel like being alone with her while you figured it out.

So, you waited anxiously in your bedroom, doing everything possible to quell your shaking nerves. You had a perpetual tremor in your body as fiddled with your phone to try and distract yourself. Which was partly true, the other reason your phone was glued to your palm was so you would know the second Roman contacted you.

Though, as the sun descended in the sky and the night sky spanned for hours, you were becoming more restless. Whatever Peter and Roman were doing was no doubt dangerous and time sensitive, and it made you sick that it was nearing midnight without any word from either boy.

As the night continued to wear on and your mind ran away from rationality into an amalgamation of pure fear and absurdity, you decided you couldn’t sit around anymore. You weren’t going to wait for Roman to call and tell you he was home safe. You were going to drive to his house and wait for him there, and if he wasn’t back in an hour, you’d go out looking for him yourself.

As you put on a pair of house slippers and a sweatshirt over your nightgown, your phone vibrated on your vanity. Your heart began to speed up in your chest as you rushed over to the table and picked up your buzzing phone. On the screen was a text alert from Roman, with only one word present:

Come.

And you didn’t need to be told twice.

When you arrived at the Godfrey’s, you fled your car so quickly you almost forget the keys in the ignition. You ran up the front steps and banged both fists on the door needing to use your excess anxiety and adrenaline for something. And while you didn’t want to face Olivia’s wrath, your judgment was clouded by the chance of seeing Roman, alive and well.

When Roman finally opened the door, you wasted no time throwing yourself into his arms. He stumbled at the impact of your embrace, but was quick to remedy his shock by wrapping his arms around you. The feeling of this made your throat constrict.

“Jesus fucking Christ I missed you.” Roman all but growled as he firmly smoothed flyaways from your hair and placed his strong hand on the back of your neck.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, Ro.” You said, voice thick with tears as you began to pepper kisses anywhere you could reach.

Neck, jaw, ear, temple, cheek, shoulder, trap, clavicle, repeat.

Roman groaned appreciatively in your ear as you covered him in your lips.

“You scared me half to death you know?” You said between kisses.

“I know, I’m sorry. Things have been… odd. I still can’t remember it all.” Roman says, his tone confused.

“Well, Olivia said-”

“I know what she said. I just don’t know if I believe it.”

You furrowed your brows and tried to wiggle in his hold, silently signaling for Roman to place you back on your feet, but he only gripped you tighter.

“Not yet. Just, stay a while.” His voice wavered.

You finally pulled back to look at him, his eyes red from tears and shadowed. Sometimes it was difficult to look at him, his beauty and pain were just too much.

“I’m staying, Roman. You couldn’t get me to leave if you wanted to.” You reply.

A wash of emotion washes over his features as his lip quivers and his eyes attempt to blink back tears. You opened your mouth to try and alleviate him of whatever he was feeling when his mouth crashed to yours.

You forgot how good his lips felt against yours as your mouths meshed together. The velvet of his tongue and the mint and smoke on his breath. His hands gripping you everywhere as he pressed you impossibly close, moaning into you with deep primal noises sounding from his chest.

“Roman, baby,” You pulled away for air and Roman promptly moved his attention to your neck and clavicle. “I need you. Take me upstairs, I can’t wait any longer.”

Roman groaned and bit you hard on the shoulder before hitching your legs higher on his hips and running you both up the winding staircase behind him.

Bruises, at the behest of his mouth and fingers, littered your body as you lay on Roman’s chest as you both still reeled in the blissful aftermath of your climaxes. Roman’s fingers idled along and spine while his unoccupied hand rested behind his head.

He had begun to tell the tale of his night, of Peter and the turn and Chasseur and his mother. He told you Peter was upstairs unconscious and that he was unsure what was going to happen when he woke.

“So, after all this, everything’s still shitty? Is that what you’re saying?” You muttered.

“Essentially. But I have hope… we’re going to figure this out. I know it.” Roman nodded, like he is reassuring himself more than you.

“Me too. You two are smart,”

“You flatter me.” Roman chuckles and looks down at you.

“Just trying to butter you up to get into your pants.” He laughs again and slaps your ass.

“Clearly it’s working.” He replies.

“Well that, and I always get what I want.” You say with a content smile.

Roman hums, “Don’t I know it.”

“You enable it.”

“Again, I know.” He kisses your forehead and you burrow closer to him.

You two lay in silence a bit longer before he sighs.

“I think we should move to sleep in the attic. Just in case something happens with Peter and he needs us.”

We. Us.

The small implication in his word choice makes you smile and once again fall under a wave of emotion, just so happy that your Roman was back to you.

You don’t know what you had done if there was no we or us with Roman any longer. But you choose to not fixate on the past.

You just nod and kiss the underside of his chin. Roman gives you a small grin and begins to get up. As you do the same, Roman throws you one of his white button downs, giving you a stern look as you raise an eyebrow in question.

“Just put it on. I got two weeks to make up for, baby. It started with reuniting, then fucking, and now you in my shirt.”

You try to hold off the wide smile that was threatening to take over your face and put on the shirt, buttoning it to just above your cleavage.

“Yeah? And what’s next?” You ask, watching Roman round the bed toward you.

“Sleep.”

Now in a pair of threadbare silk pajama pants and nothing more, Roman extends his hand to you.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.” You reply, taking his hand, weaving your fingers as he led you to the attic.

i hope you enjoyed even though it was for a different show!! and if you did, pls i’d love some feedback (:::: also let me know if you would possibly want another roman fic bc i have other ideas lol

[cora-vizsla]

The Broken Jedi

Every Choice Has A Consequence

For those of you that are used to my writing, this story is a bit darker. I do have an authors note* if you’d like to read that first. If you have any questions about triggers feel free to message me and I'll be happy to let you know what may be coming up. <3

I was running as I laughed. There was something about being able to run freely that cleared my mind. It was one of my favorite things to do, even if I wasn’t very coordinated. The moon lit up the tall grass, but I knew that I would end up tripping and falling. I always did even when I was focused, and right then I was laughing too hard. I could hear the footsteps following me, which only made my laughing fit even worse. I turned my head back, which was a mistake, and I was falling to the ground. I caught myself with the force right before my face hit. I turned my head to the side as I heard a thump next to me. I pushed the grass down that was blocking my view and was instantly greeted by a smiling face.

“You need to learn to use the force more. You would be less likely to fall.”

I continued to laugh as I let myself fall down to the ground the rest of the way. I kept my face turned towards him, watching his face in the moonlight. He was still breathing heavy after out impromptu run. His raven hair was splayed out across the ground around him.

“I was being chased. Kind of hard to focus.”

His face became more serious as he rolled to his side to look at me.

“You could be chased during battle, Aurora.”

“Me? No.” I laughed. “I’ll always face my enemies. Square on. No running needed.”

The end of this memory was supposed to be him smiling and telling me that I was beautiful when I was stubborn. He then reached forward and gently brushed the hair out of my face as my cheeks flushed. Suddenly things started to change in a way that was new to me.

His eyes turned red and a sick smile spread. His energy turned sickly and wrong. I started to scramble away from him, unable to unlock my eyes from his.

“You’re wrong, Aurora. You will run, but I’ll catch you. And when I do...”

I tried to get up and run, but I felt his hand pull my ankle out from under me. He climbed on top of me, pinning me down.

“I’ll kill you.”

He growled it in my ear as I felt my sight go black. I let out a scream as the pain overwhelmed me.

The scream carried over into my consciousness, waking me up. I groaned as my muscles contracted from the effort of trying to jump. I wiggled my fingers trying to get some type of relief. The straps on my wrist were tight, but I was still able to wiggle a bit.

XXX

Every time I woke up, I made an effort to get the blood flowing. I didn’t think that I would be able to walk after being strapped down for so long, but I didn’t want to lose use of my extremities either. I lost track of the cycles that I was strapped to the damn table, but I wouldn’t ever give them the information they wanted. It didn’t matter how many beatings or torture they put me through.

I was almost thankful for the strap holding my head in place. It made my neck sore, but it meant that I couldn’t actually survey the damage done to me. They had droids, troopers and officers all in there trying to get information. I was sure that every bone in my body had been broken at some point.

I laid there focusing on the pain instead of how shaken up I was over the dreams. It had been at least fourteen cycles since anyone had been in to harm me, but that was when the dreams started. The dreams made it easy to remember the cycles, because they left me shaking. I couldn’t ever seem to forget them, and each one added onto the fatigue. I figured that was a new way to try to break me. My body didn’t matter to me. Pain didn’t phase me. I had learned at a very young age to work through the pain.

I was rubbish at working through my mental torment though.

The only thing that I could focus on was just how damn tired I was.

My eyes had started to flutter shut, despite my attempt to keep them open. It felt relieving to move what little parts of me that I could, but it also made me exhausted. My captors had hooked me up to tubes for nourishment and hydration. It kept me alive but weak enough that even if I found a way to get out of the straps, I wouldn’t make it very far.

“You are a particularly strong being, you know. Most of those we capture give up information within a few hours.”

I opened my eyes to see the red headed man that usually watched my beatings standing above me. I blinked and licked my chapped lips, trying to prepare to speak. It had been so long since anyone had spoken to me.

“I to-told you. I won’t tell you anything. I won't do anything you command either.”

“Hmm. Yes. You did say that.”

He crossed his arms behind his back and looked at me almost as if I were an experiment.

“Then why is it so surprising that I have yet to crack?”

“Oh, you have started. Our Supreme Leader has made sure of that.”

I let out a painful scoff as he moved down towards my feet.

“Only children are bothered by nightmares.”

“Ren seems to think the particular route that they will be using is going to work.”

“Ben has always underestimated me.”

He let out a laugh as he moved back to my side.

“Don’t let him hear you calling him that, child.”

I grit my teeth. The man staring at me couldn’t have been much older than myself. Probably born into a rich family and appointed as a leader because of his last name.

I resented him calling me a child.

“Ah, did I touch a nerve? Would you prefer I call you prisoner?”

“Yes.”

“Unfortunately, for you, I am not in the business of making you comfortable.”

“I can clearly see that by the straps digging into my skin. I mean I understand keeping a prisoner uncomfortable, but did you need to have your men strip me down first?”

“You are an obstinate little thing, aren’t you?” He grinned. “Some would find that endearing.”

“I am not one to find much endearing. Unless you wanted to answer all my questions right now. That may possibly be considered endearing.”

I let out a soft laugh and moved my eyes back up to the ceiling. “That is what I figured. I would wish you a good evening, but I doubt that will be possible.” “Thank you for the kind words.” I snarked.

I heard his footsteps as he walked out, leaving me alone again. I wiggled my body, wincing as the straps dug into my skin. I figured that the more I moved the tighter they got, but it was hard to not try to shift and move. Meditation had gotten me through the beginning, but I couldn’t afford to fall asleep anymore.

As I fought to keep my eyes open, all I could think about was just how damn tired I was.

I was tired of the straps digging into my skin. I was tired of the beatings and torture. I was tired of the masked man that used to be my rock standing by as I was ripped to pieces. I was tired of waiting to be saved.

I was honestly just tired of existing.

It didn’t matter though. I had to continue fighting. I had to keep pushing forward and holding strong. I had no idea what was going on in the rest of the universe, but I knew right then my purpose was to stay strong.

I just had to stay strong.

XXX

I was running as fast as possible as my chest heaved. It felt like I had been running forever. Normally running had been exhilarating for me, but I felt nothing but terror. I was tired of running, but the darkness following me kept me moving forward.

I ran down the hallway that seemed to stretch on forever. I pushed through the pain and my lungs that I was sure were literally on fire at that point. The further I ran, the more I noticed that there was a light up ahead. I pushed myself even harder, knowing that the light would always be able to fight the dark. Even if small battles were to be lost, the light would be my saving grace.

I felt a smile spread across my face as my body found its second wind. The darkness was falling back as I moved forward. The light was almost blinding as I got closer. I felt a laugh bubble out of my chest, out of relief. I started to slow, knowing that it was almost over. I wasn’t sure if it meant death or salvation, but anything was better than the black tendrils trying to pull me back.

I saw a hand reach out, finally, to help me the rest of the way. I reached out, letting joy wash through me as our fingertips touched. I blinked into the light, trying desperately to see my savior. I smiled as I tried to still move forward.

Suddenly, the hand gripped tightly onto my hand as I felt another grab my other wrist. I winced as the grip tightened onto me, crushing me. I cried out as I felt my bones start to bend.

“You thought you could get away from me so easily, Aurora? The light can’t save you. There is nothing but darkness.”

My heart sank as I heard the words come from his voice modulator. His towering frame came into view as he walked me back towards the tendrils that were now dancing around my ankles, getting tighter and tighter.

“Just give up. It’s so much less painful if you would just give up.”

“I can’t!”

He paused briefly before he pushed me back. I clawed in the air, desperately trying to hold onto him to stop my descent. I cried out in pain as the tendrils pulled me deeper and deeper. The dark was suffocating but all I could see was Kylo Ren watching me fall deeper.

Give in child. Just give in.

“I can’t! I won’t!”

The pain will stop as soon as you give in.

Before I could answer, the tendrils pushed into me deeper. I screamed out in pain, just wanting it to stop. I begged for it to stop but it just hurt more. The more I struggled the more it hurt.

XXX

I woke up to tears streaming down my face. My whole body was on fire and I could feel the blood running down the now open cuts from the straps holding me down. I let the sobs wrack my body as I tried to calm myself down.

The nightmares had been relentless no matter how long I tried to stay awake. The moment I would let my eyes shut, I would be thrown head first into pain and torment. I was trying to stay strong but the exhaustion was finally getting to me.

I heard the door open and knew I should try to stop crying. The tears just kept streaming down my face as I stared up at the ceiling. The footsteps stopped as soon as they got close to me.

“Get her up.”

“Yes, Lord Ren.”

I felt the straps fall off me as the troopers released them. Sobs continued to escape me, no matter how hard I tried to stop them. I screamed out in pain as the troopers dragged me off the table. All the blood flow was returning to my body just as much as the cuts were being aggravated.

“Bring her to the Supreme Leader immediately.”

“Yes, Lord Ren.”

My hair fell in my face as they dragged me forward. I tried to move my feet to keep up, but I couldn’t get them to work.

“Supreme Leader wants to see her bleeding and naked?”

I turned my head to the side to see the ginger standing there next to Kylo Ren. I shuddered, having the memory of my nightmare flash through my head. I couldn’t shake the feeling of his hands crushing mine.

“She isn’t a doll, General Hux. She is a prisoner and will be treated as such.”

“Very well.”

The troopers dragged me down the hallway, pausing just long enough to let the Monster and General lead the way. I gave up trying to move my legs, opting to just let them drag me. We got to the door and I realized that we must have been moving slowly, because we were being waited on. I almost felt ashamed for being waited on, although it was their fault that I was in that condition to begin with.

The doors opened and Kylo Ren grabbed my arms, taking me from the troopers. I flinched, still reeling from the damn nightmare. I felt as if I were being dragged to hell by the creature all children were told to fear as they sat around a fire. As we moved forward, I heard Snokes laugh ring out into the room. I picked my head up as much as I could, though it wasn’t much to be proud of. He still looked just as hideous as I remembered, if that was even possible.

“Drop her there, apprentice.”

I crashed to the ground, barely able to catch myself with my hands and knees. My long hair was matted but still somehow fell around my face. My whole body was shaking with all of the effort I was putting forward.

“You walk among the living, Aurora! Well, barely I see.”

If I could have spit venom at that point, I would have.

“Are you feeling alright? You seem a little.. weak.” He sneered.

“I am.” I said quietly.

“You are what? Weak? Tired? How have your dreams been treating you?”

I forced myself to pick my head up to look him in the eyes as a sick smile spread across his face.

“Oh, if looks could kill. There is still so much fight left in you, child.”

I grit my teeth at the name. I was a fighter, and here I was reduced to nothing but a bleeding mess.

“Oh, dear Aurora. You came to me so strong and full of life. Now you look as if you’ve fought off an entire army. What happened to you?”

I grit my teeth, not wanting him to ever see me that weak. I felt tears sting my eyes from the pain and embarrassment. It wasn’t bad enough that I had been tortured, but now here I was absolutely exposed as well. I wondered what Master Skywalker would think of me, seeing me so low.

“He would think that you gave it your all. But I am sure that he would still ask for more of you. The Jedi never seemed to be understanding of pain and anguish. It’s always about their order and their code.”

I looked back up at him, letting the tears stream down my face. The salt stung the wounds, but it was honestly nothing in comparison to the shame I was feeling.

“I know it hurts. I know every part of your body is screaming in agony. You yearn for a bed and a good nights sleep. You wish you could smile and laugh again. You miss your darling Ben and the future you dreamed up.”

I dropped my head back down, afraid to look at him more. “I can give you proper food and a bed.”

“I need nothing from you.”

“Clothes? A shower?”

“And what price would I have to pay? How many innocents would I need to slaughter in your name?”

“Just do as you’re told. You do whatever Kylo Ren tells you to do. Renounce the Resistance, Master Skywalker and the Jedi. Submit yourself to your new master and the First Order.”

“You’re asking me to be a slave? To give in to the Dark side and be a slave to your.. your lap dog?”

“I’m telling you it’s how you will survive.”

I growled in frustration, trying to will my body to stand up.

“Think of it as being a guest here.”

“A guest with chains.”

“Our slaves live better lives than our prisoners. Aurora, anyone with an ounce of self-preservation would do what I am telling you to.”

“I won’t give you any information. That hasn’t changed.” “You don’t need to. You have other ways of being useful.”

He was promising me a shower, clothes and even a bed. Real food. I hated the fact that it even sounded remotely appealing.

“The nightmares will stop.”

“How can I believe anything you say to me?” I whispered.

“You don’t have any other choice. Either choose to go back to the table, or to a warm bed. It is your decision and you must live with the consequences.”

[writefinch]

Family-Owned Small Business

(CN: incest, sex work, mentions of sexual assault & suicidal ideation)

The worst part of my job is administration. Last-minute rescheduling when a client flakes on us. Chasing up payments. Booking accommodation at short notice. Answering messages! Jesus, every time in the last year when I've slumped, sighed, and thought to myself "fuck working, I need a break from all this" it's been when I've opened my messages and seen thirty different texts that need a reply. Some people are fine with it I guess, but for me it's boring, time consuming, and stressful.

Big deal though, right, I mean nobody loves doing admin, why even bring it up? Well, if I tell someone that for work last night I ate a client's cum out of my mom's pussy, I'd expect that they'd get fixated on the sex work and the incest. I'd expect them to freak out and not pay attention to the specifics of what I'm saying. So, first, I'd like that person to know that the thing I hate about my job is probably the same thing that *they* hate about *their* job. I would rather lick my mom's asshole for five minutes than answer emails for five minutes, and I answer a lot of emails.

Do we have to worry about violence, danger, cops, and legal trouble? Yeah, we do. Am I scared of these things? Yeah, sometimes, but I had to worry about all of those things before I started doing sex work. At least now we've got the money to buy our way out of the worst of it.

I'm not saying that what I do with mom is an objectively healthy relationship, let alone a perfect one. If you took me back in time and told me I could pick a completely different life for me and my mom, I'm sure there's a bunch of choices I'd pick over this one. But I never had that choice. I got hurt a lot growing up. I feel like I've finally escaped the things that hurt me, but I know that I've barely started to recover from them.

That's why I'm writing this. We've saved enough money to afford some therapy and my first session is next week. I want help with the fear, the nightmares, the mood swings and insomnia, I want to stop the rush of rage and terror that flows through me every time I see the word 'dad,' I want help untangling the stuff that came out of being told I was a pansy when I was growing up, then figuring out I'm gay, then figuring out I'm a girl, then figuring out I'm all three of those things while I was living in a place that kept trying to kill me for it. What I don't want is for the psych to pin it all on the two least harmful and least fucked-up things about my life, and worse, I don't want them to make me believe it. This journal is a prophylactic, an assessment of my job, my relationships and my life that I can refer back to if and when someone sticks their fingers in my brain and swirls them around.

I'll start with a problem statement: my dad. The memories that hurt the most are the ones where he almost appeared human, the flickers of joy, curiosity and humor that stood out from the bland cruelty that made up the rest of his personality. I'll remember him buying me ice cream or talking about a book or a movie with me, I'll doubt myself and wonder if I just went crazy and cut him out of my life for no reason, and then my brain will hook onto a random act of sadism he inflicted on me.

The physical abuse was bad all on its own, real psycho shit like driving me out into the woods and making me pick through the brush for a switch he could hit me with and a whole lot more I won't go into, but the emotional abuse was worse. When I was eleven, I forgot to feed my cat one day. He gave her away to my uncle, but told me that she'd developed malnutrition and had to be put down. I didn't find out the truth for another two years, when he just let it slip at Easter. He bragged about it, even, like he'd invented a really smart child-rearing technique. I don't want to write too much down here because I don't need to, if anything I want therapy to *stop* everything he did from running through my head. He's a punishment-obsessed sadist, a Baptist, and he works as a judge. Did he ever sexually abuse me? No. Parent of the year, right? He kicked me out for being a fag the day I turned eighteen, so it's ironic that my biggest fear is that he comes looking for me. He doesn't even know I'm a girl.

On the other hand, my mom has had an interesting life. She's kind of a fuck up. When I was one year old, mom and dad split and dad got full custody--being a judge helped with that--while mom left the state. She spent a decade trying to kick a heroin habit and a year and a half in prison for related stuff, got banned from even entering the state I lived in on account of her parole--again, dad being a judge helped with that--illegally emigrated to Canada for a while, and went to Oregon by mistake, doing a mixture of bartending, delivery driving, MDMA dealing and whoring to stay afloat.

The only reason we met again is that I was in the same city staying with friends, also whoring. I don't remember the first time I saw her, but the first time we talked was in a mutual friend's tiny studio apartment with a few other hooker friends. We ended up comparing our Pest Lists, shared a few drinks, and swapped numbers. A week later we fucked, and a month after *that* we realized that we'd Oedipus'd ourselves. It seems funnier now than it did at the time.

That was an emotional time. We cried with joy that we'd found each other, we started tip-toeing around the ideas of rebuilding our lives together, and we agreed to pretend that the sex had never happened. Of course, we got drunk together a week later and fucked again. She's hot! I have a thing for older women, I have a thing for breaking taboos, and I have a thing for being mommied in bed. Blame dad for raising me like this, I dunno.

We started doing sex work as a team after she got a dental abscess. The bill for the hospital stay and the tooth removal was insane, and the dentist straight-up told her that she'd end up with another in a different tooth within a year if she didn't get two root canals. Even when she was recovering, we could only afford fish antibiotics off of Amazon. We crunched some numbers and made some inquiries, and figured out that we could pull in two week's worth of our combined income with one night of mother-daughter stuff.

Our first joint session was with a real estate pervert I'll call Stan, a chubby balding powerlifter in his fifties who we'd both had as a client before. Mom took me over her knees and switched between spanking me and fingering me while he watched. I sucked him off while mom made out with him, made out with my mom with his cock between our lips, licked his balls as mom licked my ass, then let him fuck my ass while mom sat on my face. That was the first half hour. He came six more times before we passed out in the early hours of the morning, and I drifted off nursing his finally-limp cock in my mouth. He paid us the price of a used Volkswagen for our trouble, and I blew him one last time before we left as a thank-you.

Six months later, mom's teeth were fixed, I was on spiro, and we had just under a dozen clients for our "doubles sessions." Only a few of our appointments are ones with me and mom together, three or four a month, we mostly work alone. That's not out of a deliberate choice, it's just that we've got a strict criteria for who we'll double up on.

Trust is one thing: depending on the lawyers we can afford, what we're doing is either kinda illegal or extremely illegal. Since my dad is presumably still a judge, I don't want him to ever find out about this. He'd put us in a prison or a mental institution. We won't do a double session with a client unless we've both had individual sessions with them.

Money is the other thing. Getting your dick sucked by a hot mom while her daughter sucks your balls costs a week's wages for the average person. Hiring us for the night is more like a month's wages. Even in a city like this, there's only a few thousand people that can drop that kind of money on hookers. Then, they've got to *want* to fuck a trans girl and her mom together. Don't get me wrong, more people are into mother-daughter incest than you'd expect, but it's not a universal thing.

Clients are, on average, annoying. It's a fact of life. The thing that all clients have in common is a ton of disposable income and a fondness for fucking hookers. They're not necessarily bad people, but there’s a heavy ‘What can a banana cost, ten dollars?’ vibe to them. It’s not that they’re adrenochrome-drinkers who don’t see regular people as human, it’s more that they don’t have an intuitive awareness that other people don’t have savings accounts, health insurance, an investment property, and four figures of walking-around money at any given time. I guess I'd feel differently if I was like, a concierge or a PA, but there's a lot more pillow talk in my job.

I've had bad and dangerous clients before, there's been at least two occasions where I was pretty sure I was going to die--one where the hospital afterwards stay wiped out four months of income, not counting the month where I couldn’t work--but they were all before I met mom, when I couldn't be so careful about screening prospective clients and dropping them if they threw up red flags. I'm sure we'll get bad clients in the future, but we're in a better place to deal with them safely.

I also wanna write down what a "normal day" is like. Friday was a good example. I woke up early at 9am and cooked breakfast for mom. She was up already doing the laundry. We entertain some clients in our apartment, so we go through a lot of clothes and a lot of sheets. You can't fuck a guy on top of another guy's cum stains, that's rude. Some of the job is Housework But More. We don't really use the main bedroom or the sitting room because we treat them like bed and breakfast guest rooms. It's annoying but every time we have a session without getting an actual hotel or motel room we save like $50 minimum.

After breakfast I epilated, showered, and went for a run. Personal grooming isn't that big a deal in terms of time, I'm not saying I don't spend a lot of time on it, I do, but I'd be spending that time even if I worked in a bar or an office or something. Look: I'm hot. I might have been a weird-looking spotty nerd when I thought I was a boy, but as a girl I'm a fucking dime. I could get like, 25% uglier before it had any impact on my earnings. The only part of personal grooming that's necessary for sex work and I wouldn't do all the time anyway is power-washing my guts an hour before every session.

After lunch, mom went to see some friends and I played Magic for a few hours. At two pm, the actual work started. I picked up the work phone for the first time that day and began answering texts. An hour later I'd cancelled the 6pm appointment, blocked out all of Sunday evening, checked in with a few regulars, and provisionally moved three guys to the 'Time Wasters' list.

I spent a while sexting with a good prospect. He was a good prospect because he paid up-front for the sexting instead of treating it like a free samples platter at Costco. We scheduled a tentative appointment for next Tuesday, when his wife would be out of town on a business trip. Most of the guys I fuck have kinks, and I swear that 'cheating on your wife with a sex worker' is the most common one there is. Do I feel bad about it? At my hourly rate, absolutely not.

Mom got back at half four, so I took a break. We made tacos for lunch together and ate while watching Billions. She nudged me and told me that I need to do my injection, and, well, we have a little ritual for that. I'm scatterbrained and I'm not great with needles, but mom has been incredibly supportive with my HRT, and when I told her I was having problems taking them on time, she came up with a way to make me as comfortable as possible. As soon as the needle is ready, I laid down in her lap and she cradled my head in her arms, pressing her bare chest against my face. I took a nipple into my mouth and nursed it softly while she stroked my hair. She called me a good girl, telling me how proud she is of her daughter, how much she loves me, and asked if I was going to take my medicine like a big girl. On good days I inject myself while she pets me and coos over me, and on bad days she takes the needle and does it for me. As soon as I dropped the needle in the sharps container, mom pressed a Hitachi against my cock and took one of my nipples into her mouth, called me her big brave girl, and asked if I was gonna cum for mommy.

As usual, the answer was yes.

Late afternoon and early evening is when the messages start flowing in, especially on Fridays, when the kinds of people with hooker money have either left work early and thinking about getting laid, or are still held up at work and are desperately thinking about getting laid. This kind of messaging gets trickier, because it comes down to what I'm providing. Like, setting up a session is the kind of normal administrative stuff that's baked into the price of a session. It's also partly a sales job, so I'm naturally flirty and solicitous, and because I do sex work I talk openly about sex.

However, *sexting* is not normal administrative stuff. If I'm sending you messages for jerking-off purposes, I can charge by the hour or by the text but I will insist on charging for it. Also, it's not just sex that me and mom provide. There's a reason that 'companionship' is an old euphemism for whoring, it's because whores are good company. I'm a good listener and I don't judge, which means I'm like the fun parts of a therapist but without all the homework and self-improvement. I'm (unsurprisingly) friendly with all of my clients, and I have more than a few clients and former clients who I'd consider good friends and vice versa. I talk to a bunch of them outside of a business context, especially the ones I met outside of my job, and that's a normal part of maintaining a pool of clients for any sales job, but on the other hand... it's a demand on my time and it's a part of my services. I can and have bluntly told guys that they're wasting my time when it comes to uncompensated sexting, but the platonic stuff requires a lighter touch.

One of my regulars, Fintech Pete, sent me a message. Two messages later, he sent me $100, and we're off. Describing in gratuitous detail exactly how I'm going to suck his cock, begging him to fuck me until my clit is drooling all over the sheets, sending him feet pics, things of that nature. Pete is great for sexting because he barely jerks off while he's doing it, he saves all the messages and pictures and jerks off to them later, because he's got some biohacking routine where he only cums once a week. He said once that part of the reason he hires sex workers is that he takes each nut a lot more seriously if he's paying three digits minimum for the privilege. He does this teleconferencing report with the board of directors at his company four times a year, and every time he hires me to kneel under the desk in his home office and suck him off while he makes his presentation.

Anyway, while we were going back and forth like that, he mentioned that I'd made a joke one time about doing a joint session with my mom. I told him it wasn't a joke, and to cut a long story short, half an hour later I was asking mom if she was up for an overnight session starting at 9pm. She agreed, Pete confirmed, so we both got ready--think getting dolled up for a night out but with a more thorough enema--and drove to his place. He lived outside of town in a two-bedroom suburban home, alone with his two dogs.

As soon as we were parked in his garage I did the safety call in front of him: I rang a friend of mine, told her we were visiting a friend, told her it was at the address I sent her earlier, and told her we'd call her again tomorrow morning. Was it really necessary to do that with someone like Fintech Pete? No, but practice makes permanent. If you let these things slip when there's no danger, eventually they'll slip when there is danger.

Now, I don't want to imply that I'm in a lot of danger! There's a reason that most of the faces you'll see on the Trans Day of Remembrance are of poor black and brown women, because real danger comes when you can't turn skeevy jobs, when you can't afford to take precautions, when you have to make the choice over and over between maybe starving and maybe getting murdered. I'm white, I've got a good support network, and I've been relatively lucky in that I can do all these things to minimize my risks. I've still got to do them, though! Things like safety calls are a good habit to get into and it helps all sex workers if there's an expectation that they've all got someone looking out for them.

...I get that there is some bravado creeping into this journal. I start off saying that admin is the worst part of the job and a page later I flippantly mention that the job has put me in the hospital. On a day to day basis yeah, the admin is the bit that sucks the most, but if you offered me a deal where the admin is twice as bad but I never took that session, I’d take it in a heartbeat. This job has left me with some scars. Any time something cold touches my wrist I get a vivid flash of the first time I had my hands zip-tied behind my back in a cop car. I've had nightmares all my life, and more than a few of my nightmares are about stuff that's happened since I got into sex work.

If it seems like I’m downplaying it, it’s because the harrowing stuff is where the job has gone wrong, it’s not baked into the everyday stuff, and most importantly it has nothing to do with my mom. The work I've done with her is some of the least stressful and dangerous I've had since I started this job, and whatever wounds I have, she's not the one who caused them.

On a more positive note, a cool thing about doing sessions with my mom is that we can dress pretty conservatively and still have it come off as insanely lewd. Mom wore a black cocktail dress with an imitation pearl necklace and her hair up in a bun, I was in a white blouse under a lambswool sweater, a pleated short skirt, cheap dark tights--Pete has a thing for tearing them--and patent leather shoes. When you're going to suck a guy's world entirely off alongside your mom, the more modestly you're dressed, the more perverted it looks. Out in the suburbs it also means you get to avoid the microskirts and fishnets look which screams to the neighbors 'I've just hired a pair of hookers' or the mid-range raincoat over microskirts and fishnets look which screams 'I've just hired a pair of pricey hookers."

Pete's living room looks like the back room of a Radio Shack, computer guts everywhere, every surface turned into a makeshift workbench. It's not a suitable place for lovemaking; I don't want to have to pull shards of a soundcard out of my perineum. His bedroom is a lot neater, with a king-sized bed to sit on, a ton of pillows to lounge up against, and a TV mounted on the wall. Mom poured out some wine, a mid-range red zinfandel that we'd picked up on the way, Pete brought out some imported dark chocolate that costs like $40/kg, and I swung my legs over his lap and turned on the Food Network. I took a bite of chocolate, mom took a sip of wine, and before either of us swallowed she pulled me into a deep kiss, mixing the wine and the chocolate. It's a good combination, and Pete enjoyed the show.

The night started off with chatting. None of us were in any rush, not with an overnight session, and since Pete has been a client for each of us for a while it was a pretty relaxed atmosphere. Pete's fingers danced over my thighs, absent-mindedly plucking ladders into the fabric as we talked baseball, business, sex work, the difference between the gentrified fag bar downtown and the really gentrified fag bar downtown, programming and other nerd shit, local politics, the contestants on Cutthroat Kitchen, just normal stuff. Mom and Pete started talking about fancy cooking stuff so I started annoying them both by claiming that sardines are just fully-grown anchovies, that DOP labels are all fake, and that instant grits are better than the regular ones until mom jabbed me with a finger and told me that my mouth should be put to better use elsewhere.

You know how some people say "Cilantro tastes like soap, that's why it's good?" Same thing for how weird it feels to go down on my mom. The first time I ever jerked off, watching a 144p clip of Rocco Sifreddi fucking a girl in the ass while flushing her head down a toilet bowl, knowing that this meant I was going to go to Hell unless I begged God for forgiveness and never did it again, I came so hard I passed out. It feels good, it feels wrong that it feels so good, and it feels even better because it feels so wrong.

She was already wet when I got between her legs. I kissed her clit and started licking, her bush tickling my nose and her thighs squeezing my ears. Fabric rasped over my head as she hiked her dress up to run her hand through my hair. Everything was muffled but I could hear kissing and clinking, and I knew that mom was undoing Pete's belt and jeans to give him a Catholic-quality handjob.

I got mom worked up, bucking her hips and getting all breathy, until she asked me to get up here and give her some help. I crawled up to his groin and winked up at him. He blushed and grinned back. Pete's not a bad-looking guy. I mean, I don't care about looks in general, I guess I can look at someone and say that objectively they're ugly, and if someone is beautiful it adds something to the experience, but like... it doesn't really figure into it. Obviously most johns don't look like supermodels but they're not uniformly ugly, as I said before the thing that johns have in common is being horny guys with a lot of disposable income. Still, Pete is towards the better-looking side of that scale.

...Okay there is one thing about him that's weirdly common for my clients, I call it 'John Balding:' where a guy is losing his hair but in a slow, uneven, and kinda weird pattern, so that even when they cross into being more bald than not, they never bite the bullet and shave it all off. Pete is only like 30% of the way through that process so it doesn't look terrible yet, but he's on that track.

Anyway, back to the sex. A fun thing about double blowjobs is that you can take them a whole lot slower than solo blowjobs. Me and mom have had a lot of practice so we go at about 1/4th speed and it feels twice as good. She started off by wrapping her hand around the shaft, slowly stroking it while she softly kissed the tip, and I licked his balls, gently lapping at one, then the other, cleaning away the day's sweat and musk, carefully taking both of them into my mouth at once. Mom swallowed half his length, and I started kissing my way up his shaft as she pulled back up, my lips touching the head as hers reached the very tip. She grabbed me by my hair and pulled me into a deep French kiss with his cock in the middle, precum mixing with spit, moaning as we felt him twitch and grunt, mom's hand on his balls and my hand on his shaft. We broke the kiss and repeated it in reverse, taking his cock in my throat as mom kissed her way down to his balls. He came after five minutes of gentle little schoolgirl kisses on each side of his cock from the pair of us. The first rope caught mom on her cheek, the second hit her hair, but I wrapped my lips tight around the head and sucked him dry before he could spill another drop.

You can't give a client a mother-daughter blowjob and not snowball the cum back and forth in front of him. We've done it enough times to get the timing down: wait until he sits up straight, because if you don't he'll be too dazed from nutting in your mouth to really appreciate it. Make sure he's looking at you, move your hair out of the way so it doesn't obstruct his view, open your lips so that a trickle of jizz almost sloshes out, move in close to your mom so that your noses are touching and it's clear that you're about to kiss, sink a palm into her tits as she grabs your ass, and then you gotta really go for it: wide-mouthed, feral, energetic, like you're trying to reach each other's sinuses. If a little bit of cum spills out because you're being so sloppy, that's a sign that you're doing it right. You're going to lick it up afterwards anyway.

We broke the kiss, I licked mom's face clean, and we took a break. We drank some more wine, he offered us cigarettes--the coolest clients are the ones that let you smoke indoors--and we cuddled and relaxed for a while with Guy's Grocery Games playing on the TV. Pete went to get some water, and returned with three bottles and a strip of Cialis. He downed two pills, we both stripped off--it was sweltering by that point--and got ready for the next round.

Mom played with his nipples and I got between his legs again, this time going lower than his balls to eat his ass out. Rimming is a trusted client privilege like the mom-daughter stuff is, except it's less about trusting them in the legal sense and more about trusting that it won't be grainy down there. I like it when a client is clean enough to rim, because I'm extremely good at it. Mom says she's better, she claims she once made a guy no-touch cum with a rimjob, but I don't fucking believe her.

He got hard after a minute of digging my tongue into his ass, but his cock was still super-sensitive so we figured we'd tease him for a while longer. We swapped places, mom ate his ass while he made out with me, squeezing my tits and playing with my cock. I like it when guys touch my tits, my cock is... fine, I guess? I don't viscerally dislike people touching it but it doesn't do much for me. After a minute of that he reaches around and works a finger into my asshole, which is much more my speed.

By the time he was two knuckles deep I looked down and saw his cock twitching, leaking precum onto his stomach. He seemed pretty worked up. I kissed his neck, nipped at his ear, and whispered, "Do you wanna breed me, Mister?"

He sure did.

I use condoms unless I've got an extremely compelling reason not to, and mom has a cool trick for getting them on. She grasped Pete's cock around the base, placed her lips around the tip, deepthroated the entire thing in a single stroke, and as she slowly lifted her head back up, his cock was neatly fitted with a condom.

As soon as I lubed up he put me on my back, pushed my ankles up to my ears,  pressed his cock against my hole and sunk into me inch by inch. He muffled my moans with a kiss and rutted me into the bed. I gotta give it to him, all that biohacking and cardio is doing something right because he railed me at a fast, steady pace until my dick was leaking all over my tummy and I couldn't form sentences in my head any more. Mom made out with him as he finished, and at that point I was just babbling nonsense. He was gentle and cautious as he pulled out of me, stroking my hair as I reached down to take off his condom. I poured the contents out over my tits, slumping back against the headboard as mom licked them clean.

It wasn't yet midnight by then, and we went on like that through the night. Licking his feet, mom-daughter 69, him sucking my cock while mom rode his dick like a Sorority cowgirl champion, more wine, more double-blowjobs, tacking an extra $200 onto the fee for the privilege of pissing in my mouth instead of having to get up to go to the bathroom, a whole buffet of fun whore stuff.

We woke up at around ten in the morning, stayed for breakfast, then said our goodbyes. Me and mom thanked him for his custom, and he thanked us for a good time. By midday we were at home, we both showered, checked our calendars, messaged our evening clients to confirm that they were still on, and then... well, the rest of the day kinda evaporated. I played Demons' Souls until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, passed out in bed, and woke up when my alarm went off in the evening.

That's one of the things I don't like about overnight sessions: you're technically only spending like, ten to twelve hours with a client, and for some of that time you're either not fucking or actively asleep, but it kinda feels like it destroys two days. By the time it's scheduled, everything in the rest of the day is either preparing for it or doing it, and when you get back it takes the rest of the day just to recover. I don't like that part of my job, and if I sit down I can probably go through a whole bunch of things I don't like about my job. I still know that my job isn't a *bad* job, because the last time I had a bad job it was at a chicken processing plant. Know how I know that the chicken job was bad? Because I excused myself for a bathroom break four hours into the shift, walked off site, and never came back.

You know what, there's another reason I know that this isn't a bad job and that mom isn't a bad mom, and I guess it's part of the reason I've written all this down in the first place. I was seven years old when I first wanted to die. By the time I got to high school, suicidal thoughts were just the radio static in my brain. I can't remember any point after like, grade school where I didn't daydream about suicide every single day.

Now? I sometimes go for weeks without thinking about killing myself. It hasn't gone away completely, it still pops up when I'm upset or stressed out or tired or really hungry, but what I do is I talk to mom about it, and she talks me out of it. I feel guilty sometimes about putting that pressure on her, and taking that pressure off is part of the reason I'm going to therapy I guess.

I hope it works out.

I really think it will.

[mirismuffins-ovo]

Plant Palace pt 9.2🌿

(Second part of chapter nine)

Eddie sipped his morning coffee, Bitty and Leafy curled up in a little patch of sun. Spring was coming around the corner and Eddie couldn’t wait. He was about to release his band’s EP called ‘Calling”. Each member wrote a message to their future self to listen to about their past to remind them that this was one part in their lives. He was quite excited.

It had been a month and a half since John returned to his home, to the girls. Eddie finally convinced him to go home to care for the girls while he finished up. Well after this weekend, he would be able to see John and the girls. The previous day Eddie had gotten a letter.

It was addressed to him in gorgeous handwriting. Bitty rubbed up against it so he knew it was from John. He felt his heart swell with happiness when he began reading it. It wasn’t from John like he had originally thought, it was from John’s mother. She was inviting him to come to their location, with directions and a key. He was going to respond, but he thought a surprise would be better.

That Friday night after the EP release party, he returned home to grab his things as well as the cat carriers. Bitty was calm but Leafy was meowing up a storm. Eddie reached a small town outside of the camp and decided to stay the night, knowing it’ll be much better to see everyone in the sun. The cats slept with him on the bed and in the morning after a nice shower and wrangling the cats back into their carriers, he set off.

A dense forest of trees placed perfectly was perfect to throw off anyone traveling in this direction. John’s mother mentioned it was the work of another Abnormal to throw illusions at strangers who didn’t have an invite or a key. But soon he could see a gated area and a few people posted at the front.

He showed them the key and allowed them to pass through. Eddie followed the letter’s direction until he came to a parking patch. He parked the cars and got the cats out. Bitty was in her carrier scratching to be let out, smelling her cat dad everywhere.

“Bitty, calm down sweetheart. I’m excited to see him too.”

As he broke off from his car, a few other people, a few Abnormals, started to look at him weird, almost looking terrified. Carrying the cats, he started to make his way towards one of the small homes. She had written that this was John’s house in the camp. As he got closer, he could see three little girls running around in cute dresses and playing. He’d set Bittys carrier down and opened it,knowing she would stick close.Just then the door opened to the small house, John coming out with a tray of a type of nectar in glasses.

Right then, Bitty let out a huge cry, causing John to look up.

John looked up at the sound of his little cat darting towards him, her lovingly pressing up against his legs and churring. “Oh hello lil Bitty” he laughed softly and looked up, still holding the tray of glasses. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Eddie walking up carrying luggage,a smile grew on his face. Setting down the tray on a small glass patio table he took off his apron and ran over to Eddie. John threw himself on Eddie,lovingly embraced Eddie glad to see him again,giving him a sweet kiss while standing on his tiptoes.

Eddie chuckled as he pulled out of the kiss “hey luv” he smiled as his eyes met Johns. Holding him buy his little waist.

“I missed you!” He chirped happily “Oh! Are you ready to meet them?” John was practically vibrating with excitement as he looked up at Eddie with his green emerald eyes “they’ve been wanting to see you for so long” it was just then little Blossom ran up holding Bitty in her arms chirping happily. The two other girls running after her, wanting their turn to hold Bitty.

“Daddy! I found a kitty! Can we keep it??”

Juniper budded in “I’m the one who found her!”

Willow shyly listened to her sisters bicker over the cat. John laughed at the small girls who had been so caught up in Bitty they hadn’t realized they were standing in front of both their parents for the first time since they’d been born.

John scooped Bitty out of Blossoms arms “Be gentle with Bitty girls” he smiled and stepped to the side to show the taller man standing next to him “your all being awfully rude to your father” he teased when he saw the sudden excitement and shock on all of the small girls faces.

Eddie set down Leafy’s cat carrier as well as Bitty’s empty one. The girls, Blossom and Juniper, had run up to him, tackling him in a hug.He was shocked at how strong the two girls were. Willow stayed close to John, too shy unlike her sisters.

Eddie held the younger two close, giving them hugs. He cried and laughed and eventually Willow came over to give him a hug too but went right back to John after. He finally stood up and let Leafy out but on his harness. The girls went to play with him, Willow offering to take the leash while they played with grass.

The musician stood back up, smiling, happy to finally have this moment. “They’re perfect John.” He wondered though if they would be able to live among humans. John mentioned when he was expecting them that they might be more plant-like, but they didn’t seem so to Eddie. Despite their floral hair, they all looked human enough.

“They really are...I’m so glad you gotta meet them finally” John had to wipe his face,he’d been tearing up from the joy. He took a deep breath and smiled up at Eddie “come inside my luv” John took Eddies hand and walked him into the small house. Letting Eddie set his bag down,Bitty following them inside beginning to sniff everything. John showed Eddie around the house there wasn’t too much to see though. There was a small kitchen with clean dishes drying on the rack. Only one bedroom and a full size bed in the middle and a small closet with only a few articles of clothes hanging,each child having only a few articles and John having a sweater,one outfit hanging which were his pajamas,and he was wearing his only other outfit,his day clothes. Then there was just the living room,there wasn’t any couch, just a few pillows lying on the floor near the back porch and little wooden dolls that John hand made for the girls. “This is the house” John shrugged and led Eddie out back on the porch to sit on the steps,the girls sitting in the grass and playing with the cats.

John gave Eddie a side glance and a smirk as they sat down. “Oh and I’m pregnant again”

Eddie was caught up thinking. The house was cute, but way too small for his liking. He started to think about a house he could buy that could fit the two of them and their three little girls. He hoped they were well enough to be with humans. But the government was still passing laws to accept them into schools, live privately together, and be able to have private relationships. Each of the girls could have their own room to express who they are, be homeschooled if they needed to be since the right to an education wasn’t illegal, just attending a school was.

Distantly he heard Johns words.

“Oh.. I’m pregnant again-”

Eddie short circuited when he realized what he’d just heard, just staring at John with saucer sized eyes.

“WHAT!?” Eddie didn’t mean to shout. “What!? When? Who? How long!?” He was starting to panic, forget a house, He’d have to buy land and multiple houses! John could be pregnant again this time with 4!? “How many this time!?”

John shushed Eddie and placed a hand over Eddies mouth. “quietttttt they don’t know yet Eds” He looked at the girls who were now looking at them and John motioned for them to keep playing. John felt his face hot with blush “I guess I’ll answer those questions. When-,I started throwing up a bit after I got back from my visit” he cleared his throat “who-,it’s YOU got ME knocked up,I’m not sure how many this time but I think maybe 7 or 8 weeks?” he shrugged keeping his voice soft.John scooted over and leaned on Eddie. He was a tired dad,and waking up so early throwing up wasn’t helpful,cause they all slept in the same bed and each time John woke up it meant trying to get the girls to go back to sleep.

“I’m not sure what I’m gonna do,I’ve gotta see the doctor soon,plus I haven’t told my mom” He rested his eyes leaning on Eddie still. “It’ll get difficult to take care of the girls while i move forward with the pregnancy” John gave a soft smile and loving touch to Eddies leg “but all I care is that this is our first one together...it’s both of us this time”

[unlikelymilkshakedream]

A/n: Hello! Really important, before you read this, this was inspired by @negans-lucille-tblr 's Daddys Little Princess one-shot. Please read that before you read this or it won't make sense. She has many more amazing fics so read those as well. Enjoy!

*tw* sexual assault, rape

**Flash forwards 3 weeks after the original story**

It all just started as a typical night, your brothers and dad on a hunt as you sat in the freezing motel room with an involuntary shiver running down your spine.

As you lay on the couch, not able to fall asleep, watching the stupid soap opera on the black and white TV, your mind traveled and you wished it hadn't. It hadn't been long since the night you came home from a party, clearing showing signs you had had sex.

The only problem is, you don't remember it. You do however remember the fury you saw in your fathers eyes when your two brothers brought you home and he saw the state you were in. You were sure he was going to shoot you on the spot. You didnt want him to be mad at you, you hadn't even remembered the sex.

As soon as he saw you, you knew he was doing his best to keep from grabbing a knife and stabbing you. You were more scared than you've ever been in that moment because he's never been mad at you ever. To see him like that had you thinking of an escape plan. He instead decided to get the hell out of dodge.

So there you were laying in your motel room three states over, with the thinnest blanket ever. You hadn't even know you had fallen asleep until the door swung open and the lights flicked on. You covered your head with the blanket and let out an audible groan.

"Y/n? What the hell are you doing?" Your brother sam asked you.

"I was sleeping, turn off the fucking light." The absolute worst way to wake someone up was by turning on the lights.

"Y/n, language. Dean get the lights." Dean walked through the door and turned off the lights.

"Where were you guys anyway? Nothing can be open at this hour." You sat up and rubbed your eyes, stretching your back and your shirt rode up a little. You failed to realize the quickly averted eyes of sam and dean.

"Salt n burn. Quick and easy, sorry to wake you sweetheart, go back to sleep. In fact that goes for all of you." John said as he kissed your head.

"Okay daddy." You yawned as you layed down and fell asleep again.

The next morning you woke up and only sam and dean were there. "Wheres dad?" You asked as you walked into the kitchen, your shirt settling on your hips nicely.

"Coroner's office, they called and said it was urgent." You grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down next to dean.

"And you guys didn't go with him? If its urgent why wouldn't you go?" Sam shrugged.

"He said he wanted us to stay with you until you wake up. Now that your up, we have to go into town. A woman called and said her house was broken into. Figured we check it out for dad." You nodded sipping your coffee. Soon enough sam and dean left you.

"Alone, once again, oh joy." You said to yourself. You decided to take a nice long hot shower. Going to the bathroom, you turn the water on, temperature all the way up. Once your shower was over, you threw on some shorts and a hoodie. You walked out and turned on the TV, watching the film that was on.

As the hours ticked by, you hadn't heard anything from anyone. You called your dad but got no answer, called again and got no answer so decided to call dean. As his voice-mail started to play, you found it incredibly weird that no one was answering. Just then the door burst open and in walked sam and dean.

"Hey y/n, whats up?" Dean asked as he set down food on the table. Sam followed and you sighed relief.

"I called you and dad multiple times. Got no answer. Where were you all day?" You stood and walked to the table annoyed.

"Well we went to the woman's house and looked around. Guess what we found." You looked at him annoyed. "Sulfur." Your nose scrunched up.

"How? I thought dad said there was a ghost not demon." You sat down across from your brothers who were devouring their food.

"Well he must've been wrong because we went to the hospital and saw a pattern. Every victim went to the same house on the old road outside town. Dad decided to go take a look at the house." You swallowed your food.

"Again, why didn't you go with him?"

"We were hungry and he said if he needed anything he'd come get us." You nodded and finished your food. You looked outside seeing the dark sky night.

Just then, your phone buzzed multiple times. You looked at it and saw a text from someone from the school you had gone to 3 weeks prior, the one your dad fled from. It was the only person from there you still had the number of. You look at sam and dean who are looking at you.

"Apparently California has an earthquake. A news app just alerted me." You lied. They both nodded and went back to their food. A second later, the phone buzzed in your hand, not nearly as loud at the previous messages. You look at your phone and see a video from Caleb, the kid you kept the number of.

"Hey I'm gonna use the bathroom." Both of your brothers nodded. They didn't think anything of your behavior. Both of them quickly decided they would never tell a sole what they did, seeing as you didn't know anything. They were going to take the secret to their graves.

Once you got inside the bathroom, you opened the text conversation between you and Caleb. You saw three new texts with a video. The texts confused you.

There's no way this is you, right?

Did you really do that?

Im so sorry you had to see it this way.

You were so confused, you opened the video and saw something you never thought you'd ever see. It was a video of the night of the party, the night your dad took you from the town you were in. You were seen laying on the bed, your eyes closed and you saw the guy above you. You recognized him from the school and hated him instantly.

As the video played, you saw your brothers come into the room and stopped the guy, you were asleep and it was clear he was trying to take advantage of you. You saw your brothers beat the guy and kick him out of the room. You didn't think that much of it, in fact you were proud that they protected you like you knew you would protect them.

You didn't think anything of it and were about to close the video when you saw dean start touching you, in places he shouldn't.

You eyes were glued to the screen as your jaw fell open and all thoughts left your brain, except 'there's no fucking way.' You watched as sam and dean opened your legs, as dean started fingering you and as sam watched. You realized it was from a corner of the room, a security camera possibly.

When you saw dean take his dick out if his pants and move yours down, you felt tears slip down your cheeks. You kept silently begging it not to happen, but then it did. You watched as dean put his cock in your pussy and start fucking you, you saw sam watching and getting hard. You saw dean holding you down. Tears were streaming down your face and everything in you told you to turn it off, but then something even worse happened.

Dean pulled out and came on your stomach, and you saw sam hesitantly come between your legs. "No sammy," you whispered as more tears streamed down your face. You watched as sam started fucking you and moaning, seeing you laying there with no control over what was happening, you felt sick to your stomach. You watched as you started to wake up and dean held you down and you cried even more.

You watched as sam grabbed your thigh, and you looked down at your current thigh, seeing a bruise that looked like someone grabbed you. You had it since that night and then it hit you, sam gave it to you.

At this point, you turned off the video and started pacing, you were having a panic attack as you tried to disbelieve what you had just witnessed. 'There's no way, there's no way, there's no way that just happened.' But it did and you couldn't deny the gut wrenching feeling of the so dark truth you knew.

Just then, you heard a knock on the door, followed by deans voice. "Y/n, you die in there or something?" You froze, dean. The same dean that, no, that raped you. They both, truly raped you. It hit you like a freight train, your brothers, raped you. "Y/n?" He knocked again.

You took a deep breathe and tried to compose you voice. "Y-yeah, give me a sec." You said in the most wobbly, broken voice you had ever heard. You mentally cursed yourself, now he knew something was wrong. "Y/n, open the door. Now." You were shaking at how scared you were of him. "Y/n open the god damn door!" He screamed. You knew sam was next to him and were so scared by both of them. You tried your best to wipe your tears off of your face.

As you opened the door, you saw sam and dean at the threshold, staring at you. It was sam who spoke up.

"Y/n, are you okay? What happned?" He reached for your arm, which you recoiled harshly at, that certainly didn't go unnoticed by either of them. All your effort to stop the tears failed as you looked up at them.

"What did you do to me?" You whispered so quietly, they almost didn't hear you. With tears streaming down your face, you showed them your phone, the video still on your screen. Sam looked like he'd seen a ghost and dean looked like he just shit himself. As dean went to say something, the door to the motel room burst open and in came you father.

"Sam, dean, y/n, let's go. We got a house of demons outside town that need to be killed- whats going on?" He was packing his guns in a hurry but stopped when he saw the three of you frozen to the spot. Both of your brothers looked towards you.

"Nothing daddy, just cramps. Where're the demons?" He walked over to you as sam and dean walked away.

"Baby do you need to stay here? We need your help but if you can't I get it." You shook your head, tears completely gone.

"No daddy, I'm fine I promise, I can help, I want to." You needed to help your father, but you were so scared of sam and dean. He started packing his guns and you went to his truck with him. "Sam, dean follow us, come on sweetheart." As you climbed into his truck, you didn't dare look at sam and dean. They got into the impala silently as you and John left the motel.

The ride to the house was silent in johns truck. As you pulled up, he explained that there were five demons inside, the men responsible for majority, you help if you can without getting killed. The entire time you were at the house, you didn't dare be alone or near sam and dean. Fear of them was constant on your mind, but you needed to help your dad so you tried to not think about it.

Sneaking around the back alone, you saw a demon alone watching through a window. You took your chance and threw holy water on it, instantly burning it as it looked towards you. You started fighting the demon and were winning until John, Sam, and dean came around the back after killing the others. Dean and sam took care of the demon as John rushed to you, checking you for wounds.

When sam and dean killed the demon, you kept your gaze on John, not looking at sam and dean, who shared a glance, remembering your encounter with them.

You got back in johns truck as you watched in the rear view mirror as dean got into the impala. John started the truck and you all went back to the motel. Before the trucks engine even died down, you were at the motel door heading straight to the bed. You layed down as the three men entered.

"Y/n? You okay sweetheart?" John asked. You didn't look at anything besides the wall in front of you.

"Yeah, daddy, I'm fine, just tired, gonna go to sleep." You shut your eyes and heard them shuffle around for about 10 minutes. You of course did not see the way sam and dean were looking at each other. Eventually they went to sleep at which point, you got up and started packing your bag, so hurriedly, you for sure grabbed something that wasn't yours. You looked at your phone and decided against it, knowing they could track you from it.. You didn't know where you were going or how you were gonna get there, but you just knew, you had to get away from sam and dean before they try to rape you again. You were guided solely by fear.

You knew you couldn't leave from the front door, you didn't want to be tracked at all and figured someone might see you. You didn't leave a note or anything, you grabbed your bag, and a wad of about five hundred dollars and went to the bathroom. You shut the door, opened the window and climbed out.

You walked across the street to the gas station, looking at a clock seeing it was about 2 am. You looked around hoping for someone or something to get you out of town and away from sam and dean. You could feel the tears streaming down your face and heard a car pull up next to you.

Some blonde guy reached over the seat and opened the door. "Hey, you look like you could use a ride." You looked around one last time, at dads truck, at the impala and at the motel and climbed in. "Yeah, thank you."

You said wiping a stray tear. "Where you heading?" You sniffled.

"Anywhere, I don't care, just anywhere but here." With that the car started up and you drove into the night, feeling a little easier knowing that sam and dean would never find you again. You didn't care if they would be worried or if they thought a monster had got you. You knew now that you were going to be okay, Sam and dean would never see you again.

Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it, again this was inspired by @negans-lucille-tblr 's post so go look at her page, she has amazing fics and is an amazing writer.

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 4

Double feature tonight! Here's chapter 4 as well. Last night I was inspired and I did managed to write a few chapters.

As usual... some Gaelic for you:

A bheil Gàidhlig agad - Do you speak Gaelic? mo charaid - my friend

Some of Elias' words seem funny, but he speaks Scots as well. And he is so damn sexy while doing it.

All the locations I mentioned they are real. Rowan's bookstore it's the only fictional place.

Happy reading!

------

Aelin woke up quite late the next morning. After her fight with Rowan she had spent the day at the marina and wondered around the town. She had felt empty and could not bring herself to do anything. She finally managed to speak with Lysandra and cried. She cried her heart out and her friend had listened. Like she always did. She had gotten home later in the afternoon and felt exhausted. She spent the rest of the afternoon in the living room reading her books. That brought her joy at least, although dreaded going back to shop to collect the last book. She could not face him. Not yet. But that morning she had woken with a renewed motivation. She had prepared breakfast for herself and admitted she missed Maeve’s apple turnovers but could not risk going back there at the moment. She had to put some distance. So she ate her own breakfast, prepared a couple of sandwiches and got her backpack ready for the next adventure. Today she was driving south toward Harris. She had learned that Lewis and Harris were one big islands but Lewis was the Northern part, full of moors and peat land. Harris, was the Southern part, much rockier and with some stunning beaches and a famous road called the Golden road. Ten minutes later she was in the car and ready to go. She set her sat nav and she left. Over an hour later the sat nav announced one last turn to her final destination: Luskentyre beach. She had a look at some photos online and she could not believe such a gorgeous place existed.

She parked the car and opened the door and got out. No internet image had prepared her for the view in front of her. The beach was massive, the stretch of sand never ending and the sand was so white that it almost hurt the eyes. And the sea. It was the purest green mixed with blue that she had ever seen in her life. She was speechless. For ten solid minutes she leaned against the open door of her car and observed the stretch of paradise in front of her, incapable of doing anything else. Trying to burn in her memories the colours. She would take pictures but doubted they would ever do any justice. Finally she moved and grabbed her backpack, locked the car and walked to the beach. Once she reached the sand she removed the shoes. No way she was going to walk on that sand with her shoes on. The sun was up and the sand was warm at the touch and she let the feeling sooth her. Around her there were a few people walking dogs and couples walking hand in hand. A pang of sadness hit her, and absentmindedly she touched the spot where her wedding band should have been hating herself straight after, for missing Chaol. He made his choice. She had given him his freedom. Tears threatened to appear once again but she fought them back and resumed her walk along the beach. She followed the beach and walked in the water ignoring that it was cold. She walked for hours then she decided to sit and eat her lunch. Her sandwich was gross compared to Maeve’s and in her packed there definitely was no chocolate cake. She sighed. A young man was walking his dog and she noticed the animal coming her way. The man called him a few times, but a moment later the dog was at her feet, his tongue lolling from his mouth and was staring at her sandwich. Aelin laughed and gave him a bit and he ate eagerly. “I wouldn’t do it if I were you. You might never get rid of him.” The man was now in front of her and was scratching the dog ears. “It’s fine I was done eating anyway.” And she gave the rest of her lunch to the dog. She lifted her eyes and stared at the man. He was wearing shorts and a navy blue polo shirt. His hair was black as the night and his eyes a light blue edging on grey. Her breath caught and she felt herself blushing. “You are not a local.” He said as a matter of fact. “That obvious?” “Your accent. Definitely not from here.” His smile left her breathless. He had dimples. On both sides. He was quite cute. “Where do you bide?” Aelin looked at the man puzzled “Bide?” “Aye, where do you stay?” Understanding dawned on her. The word must have a different meaning in Scots “I am staying in Stornoway.” “Bonnie place. I live in Callanish. Ye, ken?” Aelin was stuck again. Was he even speaking English? So far all the other people had done their best to speak English with her. “Sorry, bad habit. I didn’t mean to be rude. I meant if you know Callanish.” The man sat beside her on the sand while the dog was running free on the beach. “Yes I was there a couple of days ago. I went to the standing stones. Such a fascinating place.” “I have one of the smaller circles just outside ma hoose.” He confessed turning his head to her “There are actually few more different sites scattered around the area. The main one at the visit centre is Callanish I.” He explained, then he extended his hand “I am Elias by the way. I have been yapping non stop and forgot to introduce myself.” “Aelin,” she said taking his hand. “Aelin…” her name on his tongue sounded perfection “In Gaelic means bright or shining one.” “So, are you a tourist? Visiting friends? Family? Boyfriend?” Aelin giggled “Status uncertain at the moment.” She said, then looked at Elias and explained a bit further “Tourist at the moment, but things might change.” “So, where are ye fae?” She guessed his question and she hoped she got it right “London.” She replied. “Been there for work a few times. I am an engineer and I have been down there for a few conventions.” Aelin was too busy listening at his sexy accent to pay attention to what he was saying and she felt embarrassed when she had to ask to repeat his answer. “Nae worries. I said I am an engineer and I was in London a few times for work.” “Cool what type?” The guy was fascinating and seemed much more willing to chat that a certain grumpy one back in town. “Environmental. I am working with Calmac at the moment. That’s the company that runs the ferry you used to get here if you travelled by sea.” He explained while the dog came back and licked his fingers quite happily. “I am a doctor. I was…. Still am… it’s complicated.” She cut short and noticed the confusion in his face. “Long boring story.” “What type?” “Cardio thoracic surgeon.” He whistled “bad ass woman. Love it.” His grin reached his eyes and she felt heat spread inside her. Definitely more than cute. And those dimples… She was having a good time but she had to keep going, she still had a few things to do. “I am enjoying the conversation but I still have quite a lot to cover.” She stood and turned to him. The main smiled “Of course. Care for some suggestions?” Aelin nodded. “If you are driving south, right after Borve there is another lovely beach. Stop there as well. Not as famous as Luskentyre but amazing as well. Then continue all the way down to Rodel. It’s the village at the end of the road. There is a lovely church called St. Clements. Worth visiting. Once you are past Rodel make your way back via the Golden road. It’s a very narrow road but it’s a pleasure to drive if you want an Hebridean adventure. Once you are almost at the top before Tarbert, make sure you stop in Drinisiader. There is a fascinating wee museum about Harris Tweed. But just hide your purse. They have some amazing stuff and you might want to buy the entire shop. Then you are in Tarbert and from there it’s an easy drive back to Stornoway.” “Tapadh Leat.” She said and Elias gave her a huge grin in response. “A bheil Gàidhlig agad?” He asked and she realised she had to stop trying to use Gaelic. “I just know thank you and good morning.” She explained almost embarrassed. “That’s okay, lass. I am not a native speaker either. I learnt it later on in life. My parents don’t actively speak it, but my gran did. It was the only way I had to communicate with her. My parents were parts of the generation that grew being taught that speaking Gaelic was not proper, so they never did. My mum understands it because of course her mother was a speaker. But she used her dad to translate. It’s a very long complicated story.” He stopped and looked at her. “Looks like we both have a complicated story to tell each other.” Aelin’s stomach fluttered in excitement. He grabbed his wallet and removed a business card from it. “Sorry for being so direct, but you seem quite an interesting person. Call me or message me if you need a guide.” He held the card to her and Aelin debated for a moment whether to take it or not. Lysandra had told her to go to Scotland, enjoy herself and get a Scottish man in the process and forget her ex husband. She took the card “I’ll call you.” “Do it, mo charaid.” She smiled warmly, grabbed her backpack “It was nice meeting you, Elias.”

She was driving along the Golden road and she had to admit that the road was a real adventure. Large enough for a small car to pass, she had to constantly focus on the road to avoid ending in a ditch or in a loch beside the road. But no matter the stress, she was loving it. Until the sheep arrived. One moment she was alone on the road. The next moment she was surrounded by sheep. A massive flock stretched for some length along the road. She got off the car, she took a picture and sent it to Lysandra with the caption traffic jam in the Hebrides. A moment later the phone rang. “Are you kidding me?” “No Lys, I swear I am surrounded by sheep. They are everywhere and I can’t go anywhere. Guess someone will come and collect them soon.” She heard Lysandra laugh “Sounds like you are having a great time.” “I am.” she confessed not entirely convinced. The memory of the fight with Rowan still stung and she was wracking her brain to find a way to fix things with him. She was… intrigued by him. He was brooding, infuriating and handsome at the same time. Plus he was the owner of a bookstore which was not bad. She wanted to be his friend but it looked like he was not interested. He had made that abundantly clear. Nothing I want to give you. Tears threatened to appear once again but she fought, not willing to let sadness spoil such a lovely day. So she had decided to put some distance. She would go to get her book when it arrived and then limit her visits to his shop, for as much as it pained her. He didn’t want to have anything to do with her. Well, she was granting him his wish. “How is going with Aedion?” She changed the subject. “Well, we have only been on a date but he’s great.” “Already planning your wedding?” Aelin joked and Lysandra laughed in reply. “Nah, just imagining having sex with him for now.” “Eew. I didn’t need to know that” “Seriously… the man has amazing hands and I spent the evening thinking what he can do with them. And if all the other parts are just as big as the rest of the body…” “Eewww. Ewwww and eeeeew.” “Since when you are such a prude?” Aelin laughed she wasn’t but she had no interest in listening her best friend talk about her boyfriend’s body parts. “Get a move on finding a man of your own and then you can fantasise about his body parts.” For a brief moment Aelin’s mind thought about Rowan’s hands and… No, stop. She could not go there. That was dangerous territory. “We’ll see.” Was all that she added. “I need you to come back to me happy.” “What if…” she paused for a second “what if I am not coming back?” “What do you mean?” In the distance Aelin noticed a tractor and the sheep began moving again. “Sheep are moving. Gotta go back home.” “Ok. Keep me posted.” She say bye to Lys and she was positive she felt a note of sadness in her friend’s voice.

The sheep finally moved and she spent the journey home mulling over what she had said to Lys. She could not see herself going back to London. Something had broken inside her. Maybe it was her that was broken. With her skills and experience she could easily find another job in another hospital. So why the rejection from one place hurt so much? And Chaol… London was a very big place, the chances of her bumping into him on the streets were minimal. However, they had loads of friends in common. She would have to give up her friends to avoid him. Give up her gym, her favourite bookstore and cafe, because he was a regular in those places too. She would have to give up her life to avoid him and the pain that seeing again would bring. She had felt relieved after the divorce. She still had no regrets. But forgetting almost a decade together was proving more difficult than she expected. She pushed on the breaks quite hard, forced the door open and run to the field near the road. And then she collapsed on her knees and screamed, letting out all the frustration festering in her. Her hands began shaking and she felt the symptoms of a panic attack starting to manifest. Breathing was getting harder. So Aelin stayed in the filed, and cried and shook. Until she had no more tears left in her.

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 2637

today was a good day too! i slept in which was nice because i needed it, and then from there it went immediately to stress and chaos! it all wound up being okay, even though i didn't have enough supplies and people left and i had to turn people away and when i did get more, it was half an hour late and i was reasonably frustrated about it, so when i shot a sarcastic "took you long enough" to the person who was bringing it to me, he literally yelled at me. in front of my panel. like, really?

(i later learned that he then went down to lisa and grabbed her and yelled in her face about it. so.)

i ended up apologizing later because i learned that he's not good with sarcasm, and then i learned later that he's not bad at sarcasm, he's just an asshole. so. he was nice to me after i apologized.

the best news, though, was that even after getting yelled at and needing to apologize, i didn't cry. another con person came to me and said with glee in his eyes, "how'd you handle it??" and i said, "i didn't cry!!" we were both pleasantly surprised about that. it would've been so much worse had i cried.

(this whole situation wound up being a major point of discussion, and honestly, he's been an ass to everyone for years, and he finally crossed a line he won't be able to uncross. i think this year he'll get the boot. so i feel like i did something right, even though it went the wrong way. does that make sense?)

i ate lunch today! kianna messaged me when i woke up and asked me if i wanted something, and around two i sent a message of "i hungy, pls am food need," so i sent her what i wanted and an hour later, she sent me another message asking if i'd received my lunch, which i hadn't, so she and aj made it themselves and brought it over to me personally, along with a big bag of snacks. which was super sweet of them. i was so appreciative to eat a goddamn sandwich that i nearly fuckin cried from joy. it was a decent sandwich, but god i forgot how much i missed real food.

i ended up taking a break in the middle of the afternoon and taking a brief nap before my evening panel of parasol painting.

when i went down to gather the boxes of parasols, i was pointed to a singular, long box on one of the back tables. i opened it.

there were ten white umbrellas.

i gave one to ashley to use for her panel tomorrow, and i took the rest and went upstairs.

and to my great horror, i saw a line of people all the way down the fucking hallway.

holy god above, i thought to myself. they're going to be so upset.

i was partially wrong. i was partially right. they were mostly disappointed.

word got out, because one of the doors was open, that i had almost no parasols, so about half of the line ended up leaving. the rest came in ten at a time after i had been able to set up everything, and i informed them of the situation. the VIP attendees got the parasols, as well as the people who had been there the longest. everyone else i gave the option of two things: painting fans because it uses the same materials and it's less area to paint, and making the monster buddies from the morning with all of the material i was given too late in the game to use.

it wound up going really, really well.

and i'm so glad it did.

i had a little bit of help setting things up and organizing, and i had help from two attendees in terms of the monster pillows, one of whom had been in earlier and had a hard time tying the knots, so i tied them for her and she came back in and finished him up after stuffing him. overall, people ended up being pretty happy about it.

i also had enough supplies leftover that i'm going to be able to do another round of monster pillows tomorrow. they were a big hit, really. this morning the whole room was full. the room fits 80 people. about 35 left and i had to turn away another twenty. so tomorrow, i hope they'll be able to come in and enjoy some tiny friend-making time.

after my panel was done, i cleaned for a while while some people finished up, and i ended up having joel's friends come in to set up and get ready for their panel which was at 9, and they helped me clean up, too. it was super sweet of them, and i was super grateful for the help.

after cleaning, i went down to con ops because i was needed there, and i ended up being the support for our 2iC downstairs, the one who controls all of the scheduling and makes sure panels go off without issues. she'd been so stressed all goddamn day and she also had to deal with the whole thing of me AND lisa AND THEN SOMEONE ELSE getting yelled at by the same asshole, and then her getting into an argument with him, too, because he was fucking wrong and wouldn't accept it for an answer. so i held her and talked to her as she cried and it was okay because no one is supposed to hold it together for the whole time. and that's okay. so we talked a bit and she ended up feeling better a little bit later and i'm glad i was able to help. she's an absolute angel and i adore her, and she deserves the entire goddamn world. she's fucking fabulous.

i went back to joel's panel where my burger was sitting for me (blessedly, i was so fucking excited to eat something real and meaty and big enough for me to not be "huh im hungy again" in ten minutes) and i sat and listened to this goddamn fucking trainwreck of a panel which was so hysterical i almost cried a few times. they were playing a campaign with the avatar legends game system, and we in the room sat in and made commentary and generally enjoyed the incredibly fucked up campaign joel's best friend came up with. it was so fucking funny.

after the panel finished, i went up to the green room where i learned of a lot of things, including the rest of the situation with the asshole, was incredibly proud to report that i didn't cry, overheard joel coming to my defense (he said "he made her cry, so i'm gonna fuckin beat the shit out of him" and honestly that's the sweetest thing joel has ever said), and are some nachos while discussing random shit. at that point i definitely wanted a drink, but i didn't make one, because i was able to drink enough water that was more than a single fucking gulp and some juice that was enough to sate my fucking dry-ass throat.

and then i came back to the room after hanging out there for a while, and i was invited to the traditional nerf gun fight which i had to decline because i was too fuckin tired and now i am here, still too fuckin tired, so i'm gonna check the schedule again and make sure i set my alarm to get up on time for things tomorrow.