#Not a lie that controlled me and made me fear all my life

[fictioninmyblood]

King Consort pt. 3

Summary: ‘Queen of the Damned’ esq, Terry’s disciplined restraint awakens a queen of the damned. Maha, daughter of Akasha, is awoken on a half moon night when the sun kisses the moon in the light of day. After surviving the bloodshed and corruption of Shelby Springs without shedding the blood he wanted, Terry finds himself under the gaze of a goddess whose thirst for balance in all things can suddenly only be quenched by his company. How did he get here? Does he ever really wanna leave?

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, the snowball is starting to go downhill and outta my control, smut, this man is haunting my dreams.

A/N: Sorry yawl, this was supposed to be a short thing but the story is taking me on a journey now. Part 4 otw.

Terry made sure that Maha leaned against him with her back against his chest, staying silent until he felt her relax all the way. He had a feeling that she had only been showing him the tender care that she’d been missing for who knows how long. He was more than happy to soothe the hardness in him by gently cupping the softness of one of her breasts in one hand and her plush belly in the other. As she rested in his embrace, head reclined into the crook of his neck and her eyes closed, he watched as the furrow in her brow completely disappeared. He didn’t know why that was what finally got him to relax himself, but he was grateful for the ease that seemed to grace both of their souls. This intimacy was just what the doctor had ordered for them both. So they basked in it for a long while, lost to time moving forward for it felt that they had frozen it just to enjoy this moment.

“You know,” Terry said as he moved his hand from gently squishing her breast to grasping her throat to tilt her head up at him his other hand still resting against her womb, “I should know the name of the goddess that’s brought me all this way.”

“Maha, my king,” she rasped out, voice filled with yearning and lust as her eyes fluttered open to hold his gaze mirroring the emotions swirling within her.

He lifted the left side of his mouth in a half smirk, wondering what she had been imagining to sound like that.

“What does it mean love?”

Maha cleared her throat a little and tried to look away to gather herself unsuccessfully when Terry tightened his grip ever so slightly. “My parents named me after Ma’at, in a time when many new languages were arriving to Kemet. Arabic and Sanskrit had been popular at the time so my mother chose Maha which means half moon in one language and mighty in the other. She always told me that Ma’at was the epitome of a half moon, capable of simultaneously showing and hiding her might, as soft and unyielding as the water the moon controlled.” Maha gulped at the look in Terry’s eyes, she didn’t know how this explanation had riled him, but it added to the yearning that pulsed through her body.

“I don’t think they could’ve chosen a better name. You hold the keys to both heaven and hell, don’t you?”

Maha shrugged her way out of his arms, suddenly feeling on fire with the way he seemed to look through her, see her past without fear but fascination, and stood to try and regain the composure that seemed to constantly flee under his gaze, “I have my moments.” She chewed on her bottom lip and tried to think of how to get out of this intense moment, but wasn’t given much time to be able to. Terry followed her easily, holding her against him in the same way, one hand against where her womb lie and the other gently grasping her throat to lift her face to meet his own.

“No my queen, you do. I could tell with that first dream that you had been sent from the other side blessed by the natural balance of this universe. Then upon my arrival you washed me in that very balance, somehow rousing and appeasing both the restrained man I am and the beast I have struggled to keep under lock and key my entire life. You’ve already made living with this beast more bearable than anything or anyone I’ve tried until this point, wrapping us in all that you are so that we have come to a state of what I daresay is collective peace. I feel at home lil mama, something that has eluded me for far too long. I am blessed to be in your presence, let alone have the opportunity to bring you great pleasure, peace, and love - maybe one day even to become your protector.”

Her breath had quickened at his words. No man had ever saw her so clearly before, had welcomed the pleasure she could produce and the hell she could raise with such clarity and disregard for their own well-being. All she had told him was her name and he seemed to read the pages of her life and longing with just that. Everything this man did and said made her believe more and more that she had truly found her king. That realization terrified her for the first time in her life she thought, true fear was not a known emotion, she had walked in the pits of night before she was ever gifted immortality. It took entirely too long for her to identify this emotion of hopeful fear twisting its way through her veins, but once she had it became nearly unbearable.

Maha tried again to move out of Terry’s grasp, but his hold tightened the longer she not-so-subtly fought to remove herself from his embrace. Terry scrutinized her face as she continued this futile attempt to stop the moment they’d been having with no problems until she started obviously overthinking and was surprised to see tears being held at bay. What had he done in these last moments to have gotten his goddess so afraid all of sudden? Terry held her closer, tighter, moving his hand so that his entire arm wrapped around her torso. He enveloped her in him and he prayed that whatever he was made of could help this woman heal and trust that she could hope for a better forever. She could trust that he was the right man to hope for those dreams again with. 

Her parents had given her the ultimate princess’ dream of life, even in the afterlife she was given choices and time to see that their love for each other survived. Blood spilled aside, they were a unit and that is the picture of her future she drew from as she finally accepted joining them. It had been the one thing she hoped to find for herself and she envied about her parents until her mother murdered him for some white boy and here this fine ass black man was making the nearly forgotten little girl awaken within. She always wanted a black prince, just like her baba and here the universe had brought a black king. Trying to escape the best way she knew how, she wondered if he could make his way up a tree to get her down just as her dad had done so many times.

Terry got out to put a towel around his waist and held one open for Maha as she got out, wrapping her up like a burrito with her arms tucked by her side. He easily scooped her into his arms and walked them into the bedroom, gently laying Maha onto the bed so he could grab the oil he seen her with earlier. Maha was trying to gently wiggle her way out of the towel to no avail when Terry came back into the room shouting a quick ‘aht aht’ that instantly stilled her movements, but quickened the heart rate in her pussy even more. God this man was making a mess of her and it was always when he wasn’t really doing anything. Maha didn’t know how much more of this she could take.

“Let me take care of you for a little bit mamas. No moving.” Terry said as he sat on the bed, dipping her body closer to him from the shift in weight.

“But you need to be taken care of more than me. You’re the human and I’m supposed to be doing that!” Maha whined. He was destroying all the plans she had of catering to him and getting him to really relax enough to give her the opportunity to see more of him than he’d usually show. Yes she wanted his beast but she had no idea how effective the subtle softness of how they were wrapped together to urge her towards submission was at producing results she’d never experienced. The more and more he drew her in with those fucking eyes that stormed like a hurricane in the bayous that had arrived from the islands the harder it was for her to try to even stop complying.

“This is you taking care of me,” Terry said with a smirk as he moved Maha with ease, somehow getting the towel from around her and turning her onto her stomach, all while keeping the towel tucked under her. He leaned in to peck the scrunch in between her eyebrows and said, “relax, please my queen, let me take care of you the way we want to.”

Maha’s pout quickly turned into a bite of her lip as Terry held eye contact leaning on one arm while he rubbed her butt with the other one. She started to look away but Terry was quick to catch her face and bring her eyes back to his.

“You know I got you, right?” he asked, maintaining that position, holding her face and rubbing that same asscheek.

They held that moment for what seemed like forever to Maha, she felt as if he was filling in a picture of what the rest of the universe that she hadn’t seen yet looked like, just by being the one to have her here, like this, as a human. A unique and well match indeed if she’d yet to exchange any kind of offerings and they had only just started. Just as the rest of her thoughts were helping her run away from her body and how he seemed to have her locked in a spell, Terry lifted his hand and popped her hard as hell. The glazed look she once had locked back into the moment and refocused on those fucking eyes and it took all the millenia she had survived to control her body from cumming. By the time she opened her eyes again, not remembering that she had even closed them, Terry had a self-satisfied smirk that did not bode well for her future. Where the fuck has this man been all her life?

Terry calmly went back to massaging that same cheek as he continued on like he didn’t just probably leave a bruise and almost make her cum without using all of his strength but still more than he’s probably used on anyone else. “That’s okay my goddess,” he kissed the spot that was still tingling, “I’m a different kind of man,” his voice turned almost unrecognizably gruff, “and I have a different kind of a beast.” He pulled away and said, “now you just lay right there and let me work mama.”

As he stood holding eye contact and grasped his towel with an, “I mean it mama,” Maha gulped and nodded. She was not prepared for the growth that Terry seemed to have had since last she got a close look at his crown jewels. Everything about him seemed… 

“I’m just gonna get myself first.”

“But-”

“Aht, you got me earlier, it’s my turn now,” Terry continued as he oiled his body and stretched a little while he watched Maha as she looked at him and got a gradually thirstier and thirstier by the look in her eyes.

“But my king, I still need to feed you the food I prepared!” Maha whined a little more earning a hard glare and internal promise to himself to add to her punishments for the evening.

“You will be feeding me everything you prepared for me.”

Maha gulped again at the way he emphasized ‘everything’ while maintaining eye contact and oiling his very full and definitely throbbing dick and balls. She wanted him to empty everything into her, to take his seed and keep it and him warm. Now! But As she stared him and that beautiful body down from head to toe, he was going to make her wait for both.

“Yes my king.”

Terry was pleased with his handiwork but he was scared too. He never lets Shadow out of his cage unless it’s absolutely necessary but Shadow was urging him to, she was worth it, she was necessary. It seemed too easy to him, especially since it was so hard to keep his cape buffalo side, a gift from his father, pleased enough to accept any woman. He’d had a short, albeit wild history considering that he was half were and not usually accepted by other supernatural beings. They always underestimated him, she didn’t though he thought as he looked at her with his arms folded and his eyes doing everything they could to pierce her soul.

“My king? May I ask a question.” Maha asked externally while internally, she was wondering what the hell happened to her voice. It was all whispery and meek, like she could be crushed beneath this mere man. Was he a man?

“Oh, now you want to ask me for permission. My goddess, I am happy to cater to you and I am truly glad that you’re already self-correcting, but tonight we’re going to have a conversation about boundaries and permission.”

“Yes my king, but may I still ask?” She looked up at him with this heartbreakingly sweet and soft look combined with a voice that was making him leak from his tip and a piece of his heart leak through the cracks in his beast.

He growled out, “fine,” but it was her responding bright smile and ‘thank you’ that nearly made the man completely buckle and worship at her feet.

“Is there a reason you’re getting bigger my king? I wasn’t sure of it earlier, but something is definitely different and your blood was unlike anything I’ve ever tasted or been able to be sustained from. I hadn’t realized it since it’s been so long.”

He smiled at her observations. “I was wondering if you would notice. Have you come across any weres in your time?”

She smiled and nodded.

“I’m only half were so it presents especially when I’m ready to mate and other special occasions,” he said eyeing the entirety of her being. Usually I’d be afraid to let Shadow out like this but I have a feeling you’ve been waiting for him as much as me.”

“Whatever gave you that impression?” she answered with a tone and twin smoldering look that nearly lit his restraint on fire.

Fed up with her teasing tugs on control of what happened next, Terry moved to her otherside and gave her left asscheek the same treatment as the right. He was pleased that she held herself together cause that smack came with a little more Shadow than the last one. 

“I’m glad to see you were listening to the lesson. We’ll do very well little one if you keep up this good girl behaviour.”

Terry got on top of Maha, letting his dick slide between her cheeks and transfer some of the oil from him onto her, half holding himself up with one hand in a one-handed pushup while he held her throat tightly, squeezing the sides and asserting the right pressure to have her eyes go rolling.

“But you keep testing the boundaries anymore, keep pushing my limits, keep poking the beast, you gon’ fuck around and find out. But when I give it to you so good you can’t speak, I don’t wanna hear or feel nothing other than you taking it, I make myself clear?” Terry finished with one lick up the side of her face and a bite to her jaw.

Maha nodded and tried not to wiggle or cum or even breath too hard. This was a certainly a well match.

[diet-cokette]

if you told me even three weeks ago id be leaving catholicism I wouldn't fucking believe you

[anantaru]

・✶ ｡ synopsis — capitano loves teaching his darling how it feels to receive pleasure by a real man <3

warnings — inexperienced reader & naive ?? reader, petnames used: good girl, size kink/size difference, age gap ? (he's mentioned as being older), fem! reader <3

the thought of capitano teaching you about pleasure and passion was unbelievably hot to the point where you couldn't wait for it to happen again and again.

yes, he's older and more experienced than you, so of course you believe whatever he tells you and certainly won't question all of the depraved things he'd ask you to do, the harbinger obviously know better than you do, correct? these thoughts never failed to echo in your mind as you found herself alone with capitano, the strongest and mysterious harbinger whose very presence sent your mind in a daze.

he towers above your smaller frame with his dark eyes piercing through the dim light of the room, the silent command in his gaze strong enough to send an entire army to its defeat.

you couldn't lie to yourself, especially not when it came to him— and you felt a thrilling mix of fear and anticipation as he sank inside for the first time, making your pretty mouth part with a high gasp as he pressed himself through your tiny hole— first his thick tip splitting you open, then his inches rubbing through you, his movements deliberate and controlled yet never too much where it could hurt you.

although before he proceeds, his scarred hand reaches out to your face, gently tilting your chin up to meet his focused eyes.

"you must trust me, you're aware of that, correct?" capitano's deep voice resonates through you, each word a promise of what was about to come as he begins to thrust into you gently, his next following words accompanied by deep grunts and groans, "only then i will teach you on how to receive the pleasure only i can give you."

you nod immediately, eager to feel more, your heart pounding in your chest as his experience in the bedroom was certainly undeniable— not only that but it was sexy, hot as the flames of a pyro user as the authority in his voice made you ache to comply, to please him too with all you can.

the rush of excitement at the prospect of being guided by someone who knew exactly what he was doing was enthralling as your body showed him such, and if you weren't so cock drunk, you'd notice just how hard and messily you're squeezing him right now, your pussy drooling and messing him up until he knows he's yours.

his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, "wrap your legs around me," and begins to instruct, his voice a low growl that made your back arch up immediately.

without hesitation you obey, your legs encircling his broad waist as the closeness was beginning to turn intoxicating, feeling like minutes before you could feel true solace as you felt the strength of his body pressing against yours the more he'd add on speed and strength.

"good girl, very good," he murmurs proudly, his breath hot against your skin as one of his hands slowly slide down your sweat covered stomach before reaching your clit, "now, relax, alright? let me show you how to feel every touch, every sensation of me,"

his hand moves with practiced ease on your clit as he pinches it, tugs and teased it, rubbing over the pearl and igniting a trail of fire wherever he applied pressure the most as your body was responding to his every touch, your senses heightened by the sheer dominance he exuded.

"focus on my touch," he commands softly, your hips curving upwards so that you'd be able to get his cock to sink even further inside of you.

"feel how your body responds to me,"

capitano fucks you with purpose, tugging your hips deeper onto his cock with every grind as your legs begin to shake, the blur in your eyes making it difficult for you to see anything more than his panting demeanor— not only that but his cock was huge, splitting you apart like he's meant to do that, as if there was nothing more than this moment in your life which was deemed important.

the warmth of his drags against your walls pooled into your veins and flesh as his cock fucks and fucks and lets you squeeze his inches in and out until you end up hiccuping of being so full and satiated, almost feeling stupid as he sent currents of electricity straight to your core.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[rafry]

Euclydia, Cults and Need for Control

Disclaimer: this analysis raises sensitive topics. if you are/were a victim of a cult and the topic triggers you, please refrain from reading further(/seek help). Additionally, I am not a specialist on said topic, nor am I a clinician. But I am a survivor, so part of the narrative may or may not be just me projecting the trauma on a silly yellow triangle. That said, reader discretion is advised! :)

The take: Euclydia is likely to be a cult-like society and the reason Bill, after years of abuse, grows up to be as he is: a power-hungry monster. Let's analyze!

For the starters, The Start. Each state has its own anthem. How lucky that we were kindly provided with the Euclidian hymn (hidden under the code "FORGETTHEPAST")! Lets take a look:

"Two dimensions to and from, You always know which way to go If you're lost, don't be afraid, In Euclydia you've got it made! Run too far too right of frame, You'll appear on left again! Jump too high, don't fry or fret, You'll pop up from the ground, I bet! In this place there is no fear, Roles and rules, always clear, Euclydia, we hold you dear…"

That tells us way more than we could've asked for, really. The most important: Euclydia is a state of Clear Rules™. Everything works perfectly thanks to The Rules and The Roles, and the state is loved by it's citizens. It's might be a caricature 2D utopia, but how it reacts when the rules are questioned?

"Eye doctor of a different kind, who wants to make his patient blind The doctor says: 'three sips a day will make the visions go away' Fussy eater, baby Billy Wouldn't drink unless it's silly..."

If there's anything about cults and the way they make people behave, is that the "wrong" ones in the community are usually ostracized and/or heavily medicated to not cause any troubles. Those people are sometimes called 'heretics', but may as well just be called crazy or insane by their peers. Oh look completely unrelated picture:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane Starting fires with his brain"

Honestly, the other time it would be it. Euclydia, if not Is, then sure does Act like a cult in some way. I could've finished here, easily, but there's something missing, isn't?

"The hell do you mean by 'The Need to Control', OP?"

I mean that the BILLVILLE is important.

There's the thing about trauma survivors: some of us, after living a life with no control over ones societal position (ostracization/isolation), body (forcibly medicated) or even mind (feeling of inadequacy), crave for some form of control to be regained.

It can turn toxic very quickly when the only form of control one has ever seen in their life is being The Leader (cult leader/shitty parent/armageddon overlord/you get the idea, it's about becoming an authority figure).

And so, Bill becomes a cult leader! Very possibly covering up the need for control and admiration with what I call "The most inefficient way to build an Interdimentional Portal ever", since, well, he's got to lie to himself every now and then, that's his thing (trauma response).

As for the details:

He uses the dead mans body — the body that wouldn't cause any resistance, thus being perfect for taking under control.

He sees the position of the interviewer as more authoritative than the position of the interviewee — and he swaps the roles. That wasn't enough though, so he demands (politely) to be called "My Lord And Master" for a good measure.

He very possibly recreates some of Euclydia-like order in his own "Town" in terms of expressing individuality. They might've been pretty decent in following scripts, I think.

So, I don't think Euclydia has ever been religious in any way, since that would left some other scars on Bills psyche for sure. But highly authoritative, ignorant, strict in its rules to the point of self-damnation? That checks. That's the place that has formed Bill, after all.

That's the place that he wishes to rebuild.

Maybe not consciously, maybe distorted by his illness and broken memory of a loving-paradise-home that has never actually been that way, but he seeks the comfort of familiarity — most of us do. Familiar stings are better than an uncontrollable too-bright future, isn't?

I hope he does well on therapy.

[filmsmakkari]

Part of Her World 𓇼

rhaenyra targaryen x mermaid! oc

Summary: A mermaid princess finds the only person who understands her in a princess from another world

Word count: 3.5k

CW: None!

A/N- I use a character name for this because it was easier for me to write but it can still be read as an x reader because that's what I had in mind writing it! I am seriously considering making this a series saurr let me know if you'd be interested!

Above the thrashing, powerful waves of the deep blue sea, a ship headed by a golden dragon cut through the tides like a swordfish. 

Rhaenyra Targaryen's hair blew wildly around her face in wild silver waves as she overlooked the sea from the side of the great ship. She was in the midst of her betrothal tour- a humiliating ritual where she sailed from house to house and offered herself up like a piece of meat to the great lords.  The young princess desperately longed for freedom, and here, during these quiet moments, alone on her ship, she felt that she could get a mere taste of it. At night, when she was meant to be getting the proper amount of beauty rest for a royal princess, she would sneak out and watch the sailors in their evening merriment. Drinking and singing shanties. Life at sea gave them freedom. Total control over their lives and fates. No one was forcing them to dress up like dolls and present themselves to bidders. Rhaenyra truly longed for the same.

As she should, a light sprinkle began to drop from the air. Rhaenyra didn't acknowledge the way the raindrops glazed her face, wishing the sea would swallow her whole.

"You should go inside, princess," the profoundly irritating voice of Ser Criston Cole cut through the soft music of the rain, disrupting Rhaenyra's peace. "I imagine the weather will only get worse as we approach the Stormlands."

"I am not made of sugar, Ser Criston," Rhaenyra said, exasperated. "I will not be washed away with the rain."

"Of course not, your grace, but in fact you are our princess. You must be protected and kept in perfect health at all times. Now, if you please," Ser Criston tried to pull her to her chambers, but she shrugged him off.

"What if I do not want to be as my father is, Ser Criston?" asked Rhaenyra. "Complacent. Too afraid to take risks, cut off from the rest of the world. What if my desire is to fly to the edge of the Narrow Sea on Syrax and find new ways  to better our kingdom. The world advances while we remain stuck in the days of the conquest."

"It does not do well to live in fantasies, princess. Now that you've come of age, your responsibilities lie at home. Your father expects it of you."

"Yes, for me to remain cooped away in that castle in isolation and fear forever. I can't live like that. I can't explain it. Perhaps it's the blood of the dragon making me restless. But even now, I can't help but feel that there's something here calling to me.

"Princess—" a violent bump abruptly interrupted the white cloak. The knight and the princess both turned. In the distance, they could see a dark cloud highlighted with thunder and lightning.

The captain noticed at the same time. "Storm coming in fast, all hands on deck!" The first mate parroted the message, and the entire ship descended into chaos. Sailors rapidly climbed the mast, desperately cutting the lines, as the first mate rushed to the helm and furiously spun the wheel, attempting to guide the ship away.

"We need a lifeboat for the princess, immediately!" Cole shouted at the deckhands, pulling Rhaenyra by her arm. 

Rhaenyra watched as lightning struck the mast, and fire quickly spread across the deck. Her eyes widened at the catastrophe. Deckhands rapidly cut a lifeboat free, tossing it into the water for the young princess. 

"Hurry, your grace!" Cole attempted to shove Rhaenyra into the boat, but she would not go.

"No! The sailors and my ladies first!" She broke free and ran, shouting like a mad woman for all the men and her ladies in waiting to board the lifeboats themselves. The sailors didn't need to be told twice, and though they attempted to encourage her to join them, she refused, searching for every soul aboard to make sure they'd escape safely. 

"Madeline!" Rhaenyra shouted her lady's name. The small girl was curled up in a corner, holding Rhaenyra's little dog, Meria. 

"Princess!" Madeline yelled, relieved. 

"Come! Quickly come!" Rhaenyra grabbed Madeline and pulled her across the burning deck. Avoiding the masts as they crashed down and the canons as they rolled from side to side. Rhaenyra helped Madeline rise to the rail and jump, the dog still in hand. Rhaenyra watched as the pair hit the sea. The violent waves separated them. While Madeline was quickly pulled aboard a lifeboat, Myria lingered behind, desperately paddling to get to the boat. Rhaenyra panicked, but suddenly, it was like a gravitational force took hold of the dog and pulled her to safety. If it hadn't been a life or death situation, Rhaenrya would have pondered how it happened. However, given the circumstances, she quickly took it upon herself to climb onto the rail. But just as she was about to jump, the entire ship turned on its side, and she fell backward into the black sea.

All she saw was fire. Her lungs filled with water as the sigil of the mighty House Targaryen burned. A flash of purple. And then it all went dark.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

Children of the sea do not have tears. It is that fact, perhaps, that separates the merfolk from the humans. Long shimmering tails and siren songspells aside, the simplest divider was that when humans were hurt, they wept. But when the young royal princess of the Carinae Sea, which humans called the Blackwater Bay, was upset, all she could do was swim for hours around her gilded cage of coral and cowrie stone. 

Princess Lerína angrily swam through the seaweed drapes that kept her grotto hidden from all others. Her powerful tail thrust behind her, creating a shining kaleidoscope of purple and blue. As she frustratedly sat down on the large rock on the ocean floor she'd made into her little sofa, her long black hair, a mass of braids and flowing curls decorated with shells and pearls,  cascaded around her head, irritating her further.

"He just doesn't understand, I don't have to see things the way he does!" she said angrily to Flounder, her childhood companion. 

The princess and the little fish had just been scolded by her father, King Oceanus, for spending time on land.

The day had started a happy one. Lerína had managed to escape the watchful eye of Kunle- the crab majordomo her father had assigned to watch after her, met up with Flounder and gone to find Scuttle- her seabird friend- to show him her recent human finds. Her latest favorite was what he called a Dinglehopper, used to create an aesthetically pleasing hairdo. She'd returned to the castle smiling, saying hello to every shark who made up her father's kingsguard and humming sweet songs. However, the day turned sour when Flounder accidentally mentioned to her father, King of The Seven Seas, that she'd been spending time on the surface again. Her father had done what he always did. Yelled, waved around that trident of his, and said that of every problem in the sea, she was his most troublesome. He'd given her the usual reminder that she would soon be married to a noble merman and that her fixation on the human world would not make her a more desirable bride. Bringing up how humans butchered the queen, however, was an unusual low blow. The reminder of her mother's fate sent shivers down Lerína's spine.

Now, as she was sitting in her grotto, the one place she had to herself, she pondered her father's words. Looking around, she took in the beauty of her human treasures: the shimmering little gold coins she'd found in a pouch lost in a kelp forest, the countless books written in a human language she couldn't understand, and the gold sphere with two glass ends that made everything bigger she'd just found that very day. 

Lerína chuckled dryly. "I just don't understand how a world that makes such wonderful things could be so bad. I just wish I could learn more about them. See them dancing, walking around on those… what do you call them?" she asked, gesturing to her fins.

"Feet!" Flounder responded joyfully.

"Oh, right," Lerína smiled. "Up there, they just walk and run wherever they want! Wandering free, without the constant eyes of crab babysitters and shark guards watching their every move. Tides, I wish I could be part of that world." Lerína looked up at the circular opening at the top of her grotto, admiring the colors the rapidly vanishing sun cast onto the ocean surface.

"Well, what would  you do there? If you could," Flounder asked.

Before the young mermaid could respond, she noticed the colors she'd admired just moments before being blocked out. A ship, she thought. She'd never seen one so close. Real live humans, so near that she imagined she could hear their voices through the waves. With the reminder of her impending doom wedding looming over her, Lerína, it occurred to Rhaenyra that this may be her first and last chance to ever see humans up close. 

Father will never know.

"Lerína, I know that look. It's the bad idea look. What are you-" The little fish was abruptly interrupted by a powerful gust created by the sea princess's tail as she rapidly swam for the surface, quite literally chasing her dream. As she grew closer to the surface, she reached out her arm in front of her, desperate to be close to humanity. 

And when she breached, she couldn't believe what she saw.

The ship was smaller than most of the wrecks she'd seen underwater, but it was still the most stunning thing she'd ever seen. The wood was a rich brown, with a golden sharp-toothed creature at the head. Lerína believed the beast to be a dragon. She'd heard stories of dragons as a child. While tails, songspells, and salt ruled the seas, fire, blood, and wings ruled the skies. She'd been told that rulers of the human world chained them up and rode them like seahorses- just another sign of how primitive they were. And at the top, two large black sheets with a three-headed red dragon on them.

Dragons have three heads? Lerína thought. I wonder how humans came to control them.

She swam up close to the ship, admiring the craftsmanship of each groove and hook. 

"Isn't this amazing?" Lerína semi-rhetorically asked. 

"NO! It's terrifying! Let's go home!" said a panicked Flounder.

Lerína shot him a look and continued on, ignoring him calling her.

She swam alongside the ship, coming across what appeared to be another boat tied to the larger ship. Only much, much smaller. She wondered what use humans could possibly have of one that size. As she took it in, she noticed two people conversing. Her heart skipped a beat. She'd never seen them this close. She wanted to get a better look, so she did something perhaps dangerous. Grabbing onto the small boat with both of her hands, she pulled herself inside the contraption, her long tail hanging out of the side.

There was a small hole in the ship's side, and she took a better peak to see the pair more clearly. The man was rather plain-looking, she supposed. Brown hair, a round face, and a strange, metallic, heavy-looking suit. He reminded her of  Tíeres- her father's kingsguard who used to follow her around. Nothing particularly special physically, besides the fact that he had legs rather than fins. But the girl who stood beside him… the very sight of her made Lerína's fins tingle, and her eyes widened with a feeling similar to awe. 

She didn't look like any of the pictures Lerína had found on the seafloor. Her hair was nearly as long as Lerína's, flowing like an ocean wave in beautiful ringlets down her back. Her skin was pale as a pearl, with pink lips like the corals her sister, Calypso, grew in her bedchamber. But the feature that stood out the most, the one that made Lerína's heart flutter, was the eyes. Lerína had never seen eyes like the girl's before. They were a beautiful shade of lavender, pure and bright. Lerína felt like she could see the girl's spirit through her eyes, a gentle yet regal and powerful one. She felt as though she could get lost in those eyes and never return.

Another thing she noticed was that the girl wore a crown. Similar to her own, but instead of rainbow abalone, pearls, and cone shells, the girl's was made out of gold, with three ruby eyed dragons in the middle. Lerína wondered if the girl was some form of a princess on land. Her question was swiftly answered as she heard the man speak.

"You should go inside, princess. I imagine the weather will only get worse as we approach the Stormlands."

A princess, like me. 

"I am not made of sugar, Ser Criston," the girl said, and Lerína knew that irritated tone well. It was the very same one she frequently used on Kunle. "I will not be washed away with the rain."

"Of course not, your grace, but in fact you are our princess. You must be protected and kept in perfect health at all times. Now, if you please," the man said.

"What if I do not want to be as my father is, Ser Criston? Complacent. Too afraid to take risks, cut off from the rest of the world. What if my desire is to fly to the edge of the Narrow Sea on Syrax and find new ways  to better our kingdom. The world advances while we remain stuck in the days of the conquest."

"It does not do well to live in fantasies, princess. Now that you've come of age, your responsibilities lie at home. Your father expects it of you."

"Yes, for me to remain cooped away in that castle in isolation and fear forever. I can't live like that. I can't explain it. Perhaps it's the blood of the dragon making me restless. But even now, I can't help but feel that there's something here calling to me.

Lerína had never felt more seen or understood by anyone. Her six sisters had all taken to their roles as rulers of their seas with ease. They knew their place in the world and fit into it. Meanwhile Lerína never seemed to get anything right, much to her father's displeasure. They could never see eye to eye, and every stroke of her tail felt like a mistake, a disappointment. She knew what happened to her mother, and yet she always felt like there was room for progress. Contact with humans could help dawn a new era for their people. She felt foolish sometimes for thinking such things. But this girl, a girl from another world, she understood.

Suddenly, the ship, and the little boat in which Lerína sat began to shake violently. A man in a pointy hat ran across the deck, shouting "Storm coming in fast! All hands on deck!"

Suddenly all the humans began to scurry around like a panicked school of fish, tugging on ropes and climbing around. The man in the metal suit pulled the violet eyed girl away- much to Lerína's disappointment. She rose up on her arms to try to get a better glimpse, but the girl was already on the other side of the ship. 

"Lerína, watch out!" Flounder's voice called out. 

Lerína turned to see a group of large rocks right in front of her. She quickly hopped out of the boat and dove into the water, escaping just seconds before the boat was destroyed. She swam around, surfacing again to see the entire ship had descended into chaos. Bright, hot wisps of orange and red were rapidly spreading across the deck, and Lerína realized that this was fire. She had previously thought fire only existed in small boxes in human homes to keep them warm, but this fire was certainly not that. Everywhere the wisps went in their violent dance things broke and shattered. The humans used knives, similar to the stone and shell ones merfolk used, to cut free more boats like the one Lerína had hid in, and quickly jumped overboard into them.

Lerína watched as the land princess helped a brown haired girl, and a furry creature with a tail jump over. The girl was able to make it onto a boat, but the other creature was being pushed back under the waves. Lerína took a risk, diving under the water, grabbing hold of the creature and pushing it towards the boat, dipping under it just before she could be seen by any of the humans. 

She swam back around to the side of the ship, looking for the girl, just barely catching a glimpse of her before the entire ship turned on its side, and the girl fell backwards into the sea. Lerína swam around the front of the ship as quickly as a swordfish, tossing away priceless human items in search of the girl. She was nearly crushed as a statue of a woman came flying at her from the ship, but she narrowly dodged it. She dove down deeper, finally seeing the girl sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss. Lerína swam as fast as she could, quickly taking hold of the girl and bringing her to the surface.

Above the sea, as the waves rocked them back and forth and the burning remains of the ship illuminated the night, Lerína felt a strange sense of calm. She looked down upon the girl in her arms, and she looked so peaceful and beautiful. Lerína's heart fluttered once again. Saving a human would go against everything she had ever been taught. If she ever came in contact with them she was meant to swiftly escape, and in the worst case, use her siren song to kill. As she looked down on the most beautiful face she'd ever seen, Lerína knew what she had to do. 

So she held the girl tighter, and allowed the waves to swallow them whole.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

She had never been this far from Atlantis before. She could feel the dry sand burning her hands and the top of her tail, while the waves caressed her fins back and forth. Her hair was damp against her back, and the land princess was in her arms.

Lerína laid the girl on her back against the sand, immediately leaning against her chest to check for a heartbeat. When she couldn't hear one through the girl's thick, fuzzy red and black garment, Lerína quickly unbuttoned it and pulled it apart, leaving the girl in nothing but a thin gown, which, in its dampened state, made the girl's breasts plainly visible. Lerína's cheeks, for no reason she understood, got hot. She shook the girl a few times, trying to rouse her. Finally, the girl coughed a few times, spitting out seawater. Lerína moved back, preparing to escape before she could be noticed. But when the princess didn't move, Lerína did something foolish. 

Taking a deep breath, Lerína closed her eyes, and began to sing. 

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

Rhaenyra didn't know where she was and she didn't know what was going on. Vague memories quickly flashed through her mind. Her tour, talking with Ser Criston, saving her ladies and her friends, and going under the water.

Suddenly, there was a voice. A voice so enchanting it flowed through the mist of her mind like a beacon of pure light. It was like a siren guiding her back home. She could barely open her eyes, only being able to make out a girl with long hair- she couldn't make out the color. From what little she could tell, it wasn't anyone she knew, and yet she felt incredibly safe and trusted her immediately. With what little strength she had, she lifted her hand and placed it above the girl's hand on her chest. But just as she was starting to regain her full vision, voices began to shout and call her name. The girl's hand quickly left her chest, and she vanished on the beach like seafoam. 

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

Lerína, hidden behind a large rock, watched as a group of men and women descended down the mountain, all surrounding the girl in a panic. 

"Princess!" "Your grace!" "Rhaenyra," they cried as they gathered around her. 

The man in the metal suit Lerína remembered from the ship lifted the princess in his hands and carried her back up the mountain, the entourage following behind him.

Suddenly, Lerína was overcome with a feeling she could not explain. But somehow she knew, from this moment on, things would never be the same as they were.

I don't know when, I don't know how, but I know something's started right now. Someday, I just know I'll be part of her world.

She watched as the princess was carried over the mountain and disappeared when she realized something—she knew the princess's name.

Rhaenyra, she thought. I'll be part of Rhaenyra's world. 

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

[awkward-walking-potato]

Beautiful Darkness

It was hard feeling like an outsider even within the community which was meant to accept you, until someone notices you.

Like always my requests are open!

The world had always feared your powers. They were a manifestation of darkness, something that seeped from within you, an ever-present shadow that twisted and turned, hungry and insatiable. Where others controlled fire, light, or the elements, you controlled something far more sinister. Your power was the ability to manipulate shadows, to bring forth the hidden fears and nightmares lurking in the minds of others. It was a gift, but one that felt like a curse—an alienating force that set you apart from everyone else.

Even at Xavier’s School, a place meant to be a haven for mutants, you found yourself on the fringes, isolated by the very nature of your abilities. The other students kept their distance, their unease barely masked by polite smiles. Even the professors, with all their wisdom and experience, looked at you with thinly veiled concern. They feared what you could do, what you might become if your powers were pushed too far.

And so, you withdrew, hiding in the shadows of the mansion’s grand halls, where your powers felt most at home. It was in one of these dark corners, far from the laughter and light of the others, that Magneto found you.

Erik Lehnsherr was a figure of power and authority, his very presence commanding respect and fear. When he appeared before you, a part of you wanted to shrink away, to avoid his piercing gaze. But another part—the part that had always longed for understanding—held its ground.

“Why do you hide?” he asked, his voice as smooth as steel.

You looked up at him, surprised by the directness of his question. “I’m not hiding,” you replied quietly, though you both knew it was a lie.

He stepped closer, his cape rustling softly as he moved. “Your powers are extraordinary, yet you treat them as a burden.”

You swallowed, the weight of his words pressing down on you. “Everyone else thinks they’re dangerous. Even here, among mutants, I’m… different.”

Erik studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Different does not mean lesser,” he said finally. “It means powerful. It means unique.”

His words caught you off guard. You had grown so used to hearing caution, fear, even pity, that his admiration was a shock to your system. “You’re not afraid of what I can do?”

“Afraid?” Magneto’s eyes gleamed with something close to amusement. “No. I see beauty in it.”

“Beauty?” you repeated, unable to comprehend how someone like him could see anything beautiful in the darkness you wielded.

“Yes,” he said, his tone almost reverent. “You command the very essence of fear, the shadows that hide the truth of the world. There is a purity in that—a strength. While others dance in the light, you thrive in the places they dare not tread.”

For the first time, someone didn’t look at you with fear or disdain. Magneto’s gaze was one of approval, of respect. It was a look that made you feel seen, truly seen, for the first time in your life.

“Why do you care?” you asked, the question spilling out before you could stop it. “Why do you care about someone like me?”

Magneto smiled, a small, almost wistful curve of his lips. “Because I have seen what the world does to those it doesn’t understand. I have felt the sting of rejection, the pain of being told you are something to be feared rather than cherished. But power, true power, comes from embracing who you are—even the parts others would reject.”

He reached out a hand, and for a moment, you hesitated. But there was something in his eyes, something that drew you in, made you trust him despite the warnings you had always been given about him.

“Join me,” he said, his voice a soft but commanding whisper. “I can help you see your power for what it truly is—a gift, not a curse. Together, we could show the world that the darkness is just as beautiful as the light.”

You looked at his outstretched hand, then back up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. This was Magneto, a man who stood against the very principles you had been taught to uphold. But in this moment, he was also the only one who saw you, who saw the beauty in the powers you had always feared.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, you placed your hand in his. His grip was firm, reassuring.

“I’m not like you,” you whispered, the weight of your choice heavy on your heart. “I don’t want to hurt people.”

Magneto’s gaze softened, and he nodded. “Then don’t. But never apologize for the power you possess. Embrace it, control it, and let it be a part of you—without fear.”

For the first time, you felt a spark of hope. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was a way to accept the darkness within you, to see it not as a monster lurking in the shadows, but as something beautiful, something powerful.

[ruwhimsical]

“I WASN’T LEADING YOU ON, GIRL!”

He was no longer the sloppy volleyball player you hung out with, but he still was your best friend—right?

cw : heavy angst , slight fluff , gn!reader , miscommunication , hidden feelings , reader has some ass friends , idk what else !!just read and find out😈

——

You invited your friends to the MSBY match, knowing they’d be more than happy to accept. They weren’t your closest friends—just people you met along the way during university—but they were better company than going alone. The thought of running into Hinata by yourself made you uneasy.

One of your friends kept gushing about how all the players on the team were “eye candy.” This was typical for them—they’d always openly talk about guys they liked during class, feigning ignorance about how uncomfortable it made you. But you never said anything, afraid they’d drop you if you did.

Right now, though, you were thankful for their chatter. It was a convenient distraction from your thoughts, especially with Hinata on your mind. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to suppress the awkwardness when you saw him. The dread was already building in your stomach, even before the match had started. You knew he’d search for you in the crowd afterward, probably try to strike up a conversation. But what did he even want from you now?

The three of you made your way to the stands, your friends ahead, engrossed in a conversation you didn’t care to join. You took your designated seats.

“I’m so excited for this, oh my god! Do you think I could get Sakusa to sign my shirt?” one of your friends exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement.

“Be so for real… he’d probably send the biggest dirty your way,” the other one snorted, earning a playful slap on the shoulder.

You tuned them out, your eyes scanning the arena. Then, your focus landed on MSBY’s number 21. Your “best friend”—or at least, that’s what you used to call him.

But that was before he cut you off. You had no right to crawl back into his life. He’d made that clear two years ago when you heard the news of his departure—not from him, but from Kageyama, of all people.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the velocity of a spike sent the ball smashing into the floor. You glanced at the scoreboard: Hinata had already scored a point for his team.

“Hey, Y/N… isn’t that orange-haired guy the one who invited you here?” one of your friends asked, piquing the curiosity of the other.

“Oh my god… are you guys secretly dating or something?” your friend giggled, leaning in with a mischievous grin, clearly trying to pry the answer out of you.

“It’s not like that,” you said quickly, offering a half-smile. How you wished it were, but that was a fantasy. “We just hung out during school. He messaged me and asked if I wanted to come, nothing crazy.”

“Bummer… but I won’t lie, he’s a really good player,” she said, slumping down in her seat.

You looked back at the arena, and there he was—Hinata, darting around the court with the same speed and stamina you remembered, reminding you of his old self. Maybe he hadn’t changed that much, after all. But then you noticed the difference—his movements were no longer sloppy. They were controlled, smooth, as if every motion had purpose. He was confident, proud, the embodiment of someone who’d truly grown.

The sight brought a bittersweet smile to your face. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of admiration for how far he’d come. But looking at the back of his jersey, you were reminded of the cold, hard truth.

To achieve his dreams, he’d had to create distance. He had chosen to leave you behind to pursue them, likely never telling you in fear of you trying to stop him. You weren’t selfish—you would have fought for him. But maybe he saw you as a threat to his ideal life. He cut you off without a word, leaving you to fill in the blanks.

Now, here he was, trying to waltz back into your life. But you knew it wouldn’t feel the same. No matter how friendly he acted, no amount of effort could erase the two years of radio silence between the two of you.

You were no longer on the same wavelength. He had become someone who lived in a different world—out of reach.

——

As the match comes to an end with MSBY claiming victory, the stands erupt with energy. Fans rise to their feet, reporters swarm toward the sweaty players, and long lines form as eager supporters clutch their merchandise, hoping for a chance at an autograph. You, on the other hand, are desperate to leave, debating whether to send Hinata a quick text with an excuse that the commotion is too overwhelming to meet him.

But before you can make your escape, your friends pull you toward the crowd surrounding the players, hoping to catch their attention. You stand awkwardly on the outskirts, silently begging for this to end. Then, a light tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you feel your heart lurch, nearly stopping altogether.

There he is—the one and only Hinata Shoyo, smiling as if the past two years had never even happened.

He stands before you, now 5’7”, his once-boyish frame replaced by a lean, muscular build honed by endless practice and the fierce Brazilian sun, which left his skin with a tan that hasn’t faded. You realize you might not have recognized him if he hadn’t spoken first. This isn’t the same 5’4” kid you used to spend your days with. He’s different now—almost a stranger.

“Hey y/n, I’m so glad you could make it,” the change in his voice catches you off guard, making it hard to come to terms with the fact that he’s standing in front of you—not as the third-year high schooler you once knew, but as a professional athlete.

“Yeah…” At a loss for words, you try to shift his attention away from your awkward demeanor.

“You were great out there, I almost didn’t believe that was you,” you shoot him a nervous smile, hands tucked behind your back.

“Of course! They don’t call me Ninja Shoyo for nothing,” he puffs out his chest, attempting to impress you—but it only makes you laugh.

It almost—almost—reminds you of how things used to be. Maybe you could pick up the pieces of the friendship you two left behind, after all. And if you’re lucky, you might even be able to make something new blossom between the two of you.

“What’s so funny? I’m being serious, you know!” He glares at you, but then, he stops. He notices the way your eyes soften, and it hits him—he misses this. He missed you. He can’t let you slip through his fingers now that you’re finally here, standing before him.

“Y/N!!” One of your friends rushes toward you, pulling you away from him before you can reply. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.” You know she’s lying, but the way she eyeing Hinata and disregarding your existence burns.

“I’m your biggest fan! You’re so fine,” your friend says, grasping Hinata’s hand.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hinata flashes his best fan smile, like it’s second nature. But the one thing that hasn’t changed? Your ability to read him like an open book.

A surge of anger courses through your veins. Whether it’s jealousy or something else, you’re not sure, but it’s enough to push you into action. You need a way out of this awkward scene—and quickly. Then, you notice the subtle glance Hinata gives you, and it sparks your idea.

“Hinata, how’s your foot? Does it still hurt?” You look at him, hoping he’ll catch on.

Quick as ever, he feigns pain, rubbing his leg. “Yeah, now that you mention it, it does kind of hurt.”

“Oh, why don’t I help you get to the first aid? It’d be a shame if you couldn’t play your next match because of this,” you suggest, shifting to offer him your support. He carefully leans on you, but you can tell he’s being cautious, not wanting to put too much weight on you.

“Bye, guys! You can head on without me!” You hear their confused, skeptical glances, but you ignore them. You escort him outside, where their prying eyes won’t be able to reach.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Hinata bends down, holding his knee while resting against the wall. He looks up at you with a small, grateful smile.

“Don’t you deal with fans like that all the time?” you cross your arms, a cool demeanor returning as you lock eyes with him.

“Yeah, but it’s not every day I get to see you,” he says, a smile that’s real, not the one he gives desperate fans. It’s the smile of someone who’s been missing you, someone who’s never forgotten you.

“If those are your actual friends, I feel bad for you,” he adds, and you can’t help but feel a mix of dread and anger. You want to keep the mood light, but there’s something inside you that just won’t let it go. You can’t ignore the hurt anymore.

“Yeah, you could’ve been my friend if you hadn’t left without a word two years ago.” The words are out before you can stop them, and you watch as his smile falters, his gaze shifting away from you—avoiding it, as if running from the confrontation. But you’re not going to let him run again.

He turns away, looking at the ground, but the guilt is clear. His posture stiffens, as if he’s struggling to find the right words.

“About that… it was kind of hard to break the news,” he admits, and you almost see red. The anger wells up in you again as you whip your face toward him, seeing the tension in his clenched jaw. He’s distressed.

Your mind spirals, hurt and confusion overwhelming you. Did he think I was a nuisance? Did he forget about me? Or worse… did he not even care?

“What do you mean? You told everyone else with ease.” You scoff, trying to suppress the rush of emotions. You thought maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to fix things. But it’s clear now—he’s not on the same page.

“You’re different…” he says quietly, his voice breaking the tension.

You’re caught off guard, the air thick with the weight of his words. You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to process it all.

“You’re special to me…” he continues, his voice soft, like he’s testing the waters. “There was just no way I could tell you without breaking down. I knew that if I told you face-to-face, I would’ve started doubting my decision. And you know how much volleyball means to me.”

“So do I not mean as much?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. You laugh bitterly. Does he think that’s a good enough excuse?

“You could’ve texted me, you know,” you mutter under your breath, but the words are sharp with the sting of betrayal.

“I know… but I had hoped if I just said nothing, then we could pick up where we left off when I got back. It’d be as if nothing had changed at all.”

Nothing had changed at all? The anger in you swells.

“You’re so selfish…” Your voice cracks, but you hold it together. “Do you know how many pitiful glances people gave me whenever your name was mentioned? How I spent months unable to function because I thought my best friend hated me? I doubted if you even considered me a friend!”

You feel your heart pounding as you try to keep it together. The frustration, the hurt, the confusion—all of it comes rushing back in a tide of emotion. The anger takes over, but beneath it is a vulnerability you refuse to show.

“I don’t hate you…” He steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to gently take yours. “I could never hate you. I loved you, okay? I loved you, and I was afraid that if we stayed in touch, you wouldn’t be interested anymore. That I wouldn’t have time for you.”

The words hang in the air, suffocating you. He’s desperate. You can feel it, the weight of the years that passed between you two. It’s almost too much to bear.

“You could’ve told me before…” The words escape you in a whisper. “I would’ve tried. I would’ve made it work. Clearly, you undermine how much I care about you. When have I ever been bored of you?”

His eyes gleam with that hope again. “We can start fresh. Forget the last two years. Let’s make it work, please…”

You want to give in. You want to run into his arms and forget everything. But you can’t. You know it won’t be the same. You know that you can’t ignore the hurt of the past two years.

“I don’t think we can…” You pull your hands away from his grasp. The scene plays out slowly in his eyes as you begin to walk away from him—the same way he walked away from you.

“I’m sorry, Hinata. I just can’t bring myself to act like those two years didn’t happen.” Your voice cracks, but you don’t turn around.

And for the first time, it was his turn to feel the anguish you’ve carried all this time.

extra :

—> FREE ME exams are around the corner and instead of studying I’m doing this lol!😂😂😂😭😂😭😂😭😂😭😂

—> gulps i hope u guys enjoyed this cause I certainly did not enjoy writing ts!!

—> help i lowkey feel like no one gets the songs the thaf i reference as my title

—> this how we coping chat ….👅

© banner and writing belongs to ruwhimsical 2024. do not repost

mlist

[thehusbandoden]

Just Let me Explain -Husband!Loid Forger x Wife!Reader

A/n: I'm not sure how good this is, feel free to let me know! <3

General info:

Genre: angst, slight comfort at the end \\ wc: 2,711 \\ posted: 03/14/24 \\ unclear ending

Summary:

You find out about Loid's mission.. how he was using you- and Anya.. that's what set you off the most. What hurt you the most.

Warnings!: a lot of angst, being used, misunderstanding, miscommunication, crying, confrontation, being ignored, ignoring, partner refusing to let go of you (briefly), Loid's mission, mentions of an orphanage, mention of an orphan, fear of putting a child back into an orphanage (briefly), mentions of a nightmare, child crying (briefly). I think that's all? Lmk if I miss any! <3

You lived the dream life. You were married to the love of your life, you had a darling young girl you’ve adopted, and you were loved by your small family unconditionally.  

Or... so you thought. That all changed when you found out your husband’s secret. A spy... he was sent on a mission to get married and have a child. Your entire relationship... was it all a lie? 

Tears stream down your face as you process the information time and time again. All of it... was for some mission of his? Did he ever even love you? You weren’t even sure at this point.  

You were currently curled in a ball on the bathroom floor, your back pressed against the door. The man in question spoke to you softly on the other side, asking for you to open the door and let him explain. You don’t respond, continuing to drown in your sorrow.  

Every minute that crawled by felt like an hour. Loid kept calling to you, his voice filling with more concern as you continued to stay silent.  

“Y/n... please... open the door. Let me explain, you’re worrying me.” 

“Don’t lie to me, Loid. I’m done with these mind games.” You whisper, your voice hoarse with sorrow. 

“Y/n... I-I don’t know what to say to that. Please... open the door.” 

“Why? So you can lie to me more? So you can gaslight me? So I can melt into your eyes and go back to believing that everything is okay?”  

“Y/n... please.”  

“No, Loid. I’m done. I’m so done with letting you control me by playing with my feelings. It was all a lie... wasn’t it.”  

Loid hesitates, his voice faltering as he attempts to fix the mess he made.  

“And Anya? She’s a part of your sick game too, isn’t she?” You mutter, your tears drying against your skin. Your sorrow was slowly growing into acceptance.  

“She is a part of my mission, yes.” He whispers.  

You let out a low chuckle filled with bitterness. “And what? What happens once your mission is finished? Do you leave? Stay with us? End us? End *me* now that I know?”  

“No, I wouldn’t ever kil-” his voice falters once more. 

You let out a low laugh that expressed your pain perfectly. “You’re a pathetic excuse as a father. I used to think you were so good to Anya. That you were the perfect father for her- but you plan on *leaving* both of us. Or do you plan on making it worse!? Are you going to end me and leave her in that run-down orphanage again!?” You snap, standing up. 

You feel your acceptance turning into anger as you throw the bathroom door open, glaring up at the man you once called yours.  

“Y/n I-”  

“Why Loid!? Why do you plan on ruining our lives?!”  

“Y/n it’s not that simple.” He sighs, moving aside to give you a path. You take it, storming out of the bathroom. You pace around the living room and kitchen.  

“Don’t give me that. You played friends until you captured my heart, gave me a flimsy love confession-” he flinched “-and then slid an *engagement* ring on my finger for some stupid mission!?”  

He opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t give him the chance to speak. “What about Anya!?” You yell, shoving a finger into his chest. Your anger boiled over at the thought of your precious little girl. She’s been through several homes already; she can’t go back to that horrid orphanage.  

“I-” 

“Are you going to leave us!? Kill me and leave her as an orphan again!? Tell me, Loid!” You demand, staring into his eyes. You used to think you would never treat him like this no matter how angry you got... but the thought of your baby losing another family threw out all self-control.  

“You know me better than that, y/n.” Loid sighs.  

“I don’t Loid. I used to think that you were a good man that worked hard to support his family, but I was wrong. All you are is a selfish pig who cares about nothing but himself.” You spit.  

Loid’s eyebrow twitches. You don’t notice. 

“Anya deserves better than this, Loid! Were you really planning on leaving us alone once your mission is finished!? Were you going to give us a goodbye or were you going to just leave!?”  

He still doesn’t say anything. Your anger slowly boils over, every second he ignores you adding another drop into the already over-filled cup of self-restraint. “I... do not know what I was going to do.”  

Another drop falls, spilling the rage over. You pull yourself away, so you don’t physically lash out. “I can’t believe I loved you!? I can’t believe that I trusted you, Loid! Was it all fake!?”  

Loid doesn’t respond.  

“Was it fake!” You repeat, trembling with rage and hurt. “Answer me!”  

Loid has an unreadable expression on his face as he looks into your eyes. “Yes, it was fake...” his eyes twinge with something you can’t read. Shrugging it off, you desperately try to hold yourself together.  

“So every time you said you loved me back. It was all a lie?”  

“Yes...”  

“Every time you told *Anya* you loved her back. It was a lie!?”  

An unreadable look in his eye makes your lip tremble. “Yes...”  

“So, you were planning on leaving us? All along?”  

“Stop asking questions, it’s annoying.” His gaze hardens.  

“Loi-”  

“I said, stop asking questions.” He glares down at you. “I do not love you, nor Anya. Either keep quiet and continue to help with my mission, or you will no longer be needed.” 

You feel something crack deep inside you. You try to hold yourself together as your hands shake uncontrollably. “I hate you.” You whisper. Loid flinched, watching you walk to the guest room. You close the door, locking it behind you.  

Once the door closes, you break down once more. Falling to the floor as your body is wracked with sobs.  

~~ 

Hours pass by before you come out again. Loid was sitting on the couch, reading a book. You would have smiled at the simplicity earlier this morning, but now all you feel is numb. You slip a pair of slippers on, grabbing your keys.  

“Where are you going?” Loid speaks up, his gorgeous blue eyes finding yours. You turn away, refusing to maintain eye contact.  

You don’t respond, walking out the door. Loid lets out a long sigh but doesn’t follow you.  

~~ 

“A-and then Sy-on boy made fun of Becky! I didn’t punch him though mama! I smiled like you said!”  

“Good job baby.” You mumble, a plastic smile on your face. The words of your precious girl weren’t registering in your head, you were too focused on the fact that your husband- ex-husband? You don’t even know anymore- is really planning on leaving both you and Anya when his mission is over. 

Glancing in the rear-view mirror, you see Anya close to tears. You immediately go into protective mode, your eyes hardening as you pull over. “Anya what happened sweetie? Did something happen at school? Are you being bullied? Did someone hurt you??” You bite your bottom lip to confine your rage, the metallic taste of blood staining your tongue.  

“N-no mama! Nothing happened at school!” Anya sniffled, trying to contain her tears.  

“What is it baby? You can tell me, I’m your mama.” You coo, rubbing her hair gently, pressing a comforting kiss to her forehead.  

“I-I u h... umm...” Anya starts to sweat, looking around the car. 

“Shhh it’s okay baby. You can tell me.” 

“B-Bond ate my peanuts!” Anya blurts out, showing you an empty bag of peanuts. There was no sign of damage from your family dog, she must have just forgotten that she ate them, which happens frequently.  

“Oh baby, it’s okay. We can buy more, alright? Next time tell mama what the problem is so we can fix it, m’kay?”  

“Yes mama.”  

“That’s my smart girl.” You kiss her forehead once more, savoring the relationship you have with her. You’ve always wanted to be a mother, and Anya fulfilled that desire. You were hoping you and Loid could have a few of your own one day, but that’s not going to happen... 

You make sure Anya is buckled before moving back to your own seat, strapping your seat belt on before pulling back onto the road. 

~~~ 

“Daddy! Look at what mama got me!” Anya squeals in excitement, bursting through the front door. She runs into the kitchen where Loid was pacing, embracing his legs. He flinches at the sudden entrance, but gives the girl a small smile, leaning down to her level. 

You walk in afterwards, shutting and locking the door. “Anya, don’t forget to change!” You call, placing a few grocery bags on the kitchen counter.  

“Yes mama!” She calls, pouting up at Loid. 

He chuckles, leaning down to ruffle her hair. “Go listen to your mother, Anya. And don’t let her see you with your shoes on the carpet, alright?” He smiles, an amused twinkle in his eye.  

You would have melted at the scene... if you didn’t know.  

Loid catches your gaze, causing you to frown. Even though he’s planning on completely ruining not only your life, but Anya’s he looks so... relaxed. 

You open your mouth to say something, when you notice it. 

His eyes... were red. Your frown deepens... you’ve only seen Loid cry once, and he never mentioned it when you did.  

~ 

It was before Anya, in the first few months of your marriage. You had woken up in the middle of the night to see him whimpering in his sleep.  

He whimpered “mom” and “dad” several times, tears slipping down his cheeks as he cried for anyone to help him. You gently woke him out of his nightmare, pulling him to your chest. He was shocked from the whiplash of being in such a traumatizing past one moment to being in your arms the next.  

He let you cradle him to your chest, his head comfortingly resting on your breasts. You stroked his hair, murmuring soft words of comfort to him, letting him recover from the terrifying dream.  

You laid with him for several hours before falling back asleep yourself. You don’t know how long he held onto you, but he was up the next time you woke up. He hasn’t mentioned it, and he probably never will.  

~ 

Words catch in the back of your throat. Before you’re able to formulate anything, Anya catches your attention. You look back at your red-eyed husband once more before turning to your little girl.  

“Anya, what have I told you about taking your shoes straight away?” You gently scold, lifting her off of the carpet.  

“Sorry mama!” Anya’s cute pout makes your heart melt, causing you to grow even softer. You sigh, placing her down in the entrance of the home. 

“Just take them off now and do better next time, alright?”  

“Yes mama!” Her giggle was worth the stress. You smile fondly at your baby girl, watching her take her shoes off.  

“Y/n.” Loid whispers, wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his head in your neck. You stiffen, clenching your jaw.  

“Let go of me.” You whisper, biting your lip.  

“Y/n, let me talk.”  

“Let go of me.” 

“Y/n-” his voice cracks. 

You pull away, walking over to Anya. Loid’s voice cracks again. You don’t turn to look at him. If you looked at his guilt-ridden face for too long, you would break. 

~~ 

Later that night. You were silently washing the dishes after Anya went to bed, your expression unreadable. Loid was in the living room, watching you work. He sighed, running a hand through his blonde locks. “Y/n?” He murmured.  

You don’t respond, your eyebrow twitching in irritation. Loid let out a strained sigh, standing up. He takes a step towards you, hesitating.  

“Y/n, please don’t ignore me...”  

You don’t say anything, biting your lip to maintain a calm composure... well as calm as you’re able to be. 

“Y/n.” His voice grew sharper as he steps into the dimly lit kitchen, his voice full of frustration and a hint of something you can’t understand.  

You continue to ignore him, causing him to let out another sigh, longer this time. “Y/n please.” He steps closer.  

Your fingers dig into your palms as you continue to ignore him. Your shoulders tremble from intense emotion, tears bubbling in the corners of your eyes.  

“Y/n...” he whispers, gently wrapping his arms around your waist. He gently takes your hands, intertwining your fingers so your nails dug into his hands instead of your own. You lift the pressure, not wanting to hurt him.  

“Let go of me.” You whisper, your voice trembling.  

“Y/n, just let me explain.” He whispered in your ear. Your breath hitched at his warm breath on your skin, wanting to give in to his comfort and break down in his arms. You get a hold of yourself, stiffening in his hold.  

“I don’t want to hear you explain.”  

“Y/n-”  

“Loid. Let go of me.”  

“Baby. Baby listen.” He whispers, shaking as he holds you close to his chest. You gasp softly, tears slipping down your cheeks. Loid has rarely used pet names for you, telling you that he thought it was childish and would much rather call you by name. You didn’t mind it, but it did make you feel so loved when you heard any pet name from his lips.  

“My love, it’s not what it looks like. Let me explain. Let me earn your trust back, just please... Please don’t leave. Don’t take my beloved away, don’t take our baby girl.” He sniffled, causing you to stiffen.  

Was he... about to cry...? 

You don’t protest any further, letting him talk. He hesitates at first, holding you tighter as he buries his face in your neck. “You’re right. This started as a mission. I was tasked to get a wife and child, enroll the child in Eden Academy, and get information on a man that is a great risk to us. It *started* as nothing but a mission, without any feelings attached.” Loid muttered, sounding exhausted and... ashamed?  

“Y-you don’t love me? Or Anya?” Your voice cracked with inexpressible hurt.  

“No! No baby I do. I love you; I love you to the moon and back. I love you more than myself- more than anyone, anything! And Anya too! I would do anything for my girls.” Loid quickly protests, holding you tighter, like he was afraid of letting you go; like you would disappear if he ever let you out of his hold. 

“B-but you said...”  

Loid spins you around, looking you dead in the eye as he fondly cradles your face, his thumbs gently wiping your tears away. “In the beginning, it was all for my mission. I’ll be dead honest y/n. When I met you, when we dated, I had zero feelings for you. But that changed. I fell in love with you-” his voice cracks, tears streaming down his own cheeks, “-I saw you for you saw how much you loved me, how perfect you are... that love confession was real. My love for Anya is real. And I would rather be gruesomely killed than ever let anything happen to my girls. I would- nor could never leave either of you. You are my world, and I cannot live without you.”  

Your tears quickened as you stared into the eyes of your husband, truth and overwhelming guilt swimming in their deep blue depths. You choke on a response, tears dripping off your chin.  

“Shhhh it’s okay baby.” He whispers, pulling you to his chest. He caresses your head, leaning his lips against your forehead. He kisses your forehead slowly and lovingly, adding another and another to the pile as you break down in his warm, comforting arms.  

“I promise baby. I would never leave you. I could never leave you. You are my world, my universe, my everything. I am nothing without you and our little girl. Our beautiful little girl.” He whispers, kissing your tears away.  

As you sob into his chest, he gently and lovingly dries off your hands before lifting you into his strong arms. He carries you to bed, cradling you to his chest as he lays down, cooing comforting words.  

You peacefully fall asleep in his arms, your face buried in his chest as you sob, listening to his soothing words as he slowly strokes your head and back.  

~~~~~

Loid's masterlist | Masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here<3

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! <33

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

[crazilust]

My thoughts on these placements

based on my last lover. PSA: this might be biased. don’t take it TOO seriously, it’s mostly for me to purge this relationship. LETS GOOOOOOO !!

1. Gemini rising

Have you ever felt hella special to someone and then you see them interact with someone else and you’re like “oh. i’m… i’m just another one of their friends.” this is what it feels to be around a gemini rising sometimes. most of the ones I know, are either extremely popular, know alot of people or at the very least just hang out regularly with a bunch of people (might just be colleagues and not necessarily friends but they’re often surrounded). And they have this way of making you feel special, and funny and entertaining but most of the times, they’re the ones controlling the discussion and the flow of it.

when it came to my ex, he knew so many people and every person he was interacting with, he knew a little detail about them, and it made the person care so much about him. Even though he didn’t as much. Somewhat flimsy, it’s hard to know a Gemini rising’ true intentions with you.

2. Sagittarius sun

Sags don’t have the best reputation in my book, and he certainly didn’t help the stereotypes. The thing with Sags sun that I find hard to understand is the constant lie they have between who they truly are and who they want to be. It’s a constant battle of “don’t look too hard into my flaws bc soon enough I’ll be this grandiose super star and therefore you can forget about the awkward nerd you have in front of you.” Most of them are nerds, truly. But they hate it. As opposed to Aquarius sun’s desire to be different and their ability to stand on their two feet even tho they’re being outcast, a Sag sun’s deepest fear is to be seen as the weirdo they are. (that unfortunately they associated with being a loser)

If you’ve never been close with a Sag, you’ll be the first to deny this claim. “What?? The Sag I met was THE life of the party! No weirdo here.” or “The Sag I met was a boss ass btch, she had everything under control and very educated!!”

And that, my friends, is what we call a front. Sure, they can be the life of the party, usually very keen on getting their diplomas, but if you don’t know them, that’s the only part of them you’ll get to see cause it’s the part they deem acceptable.

I’m not even gonna comment on the commitment issues, cause yall… you know it already lmao.

3. Virgo moon

Nobody hates an underdeveloped virgo moon more than they hate themselves. So critical, judgemental and harsh. They notice absolutely everything that you do and instead of going to you and confront you about the issue, they’ll keep it in, and throw it back to your face the minute it’s convenient for them (when they effed up). Very hard to love because they simply can’t accept that you love and accept their own flaws. I remember my ex asking me litteraly all the time “How can you love me if I’m not as pretty as before” (it was in his head, he was just as cute) “How can you love me if I don’t have a job?” (He had lost his job for only 2 months at that point) No matter what I’d say, he couldn’t believe that I loved him wholeheartedly, no matter what.

Sometimes, when I look at a virgo moon, unevolved ofc, all I can see is pain. Virgo is an already hard sign to have imo (sorry!) but in the moon placement, it’s just sad. These natives are so harsh on themselves and accept no help whatsoever. And if you do try, they’ll do everything to push you away and trust me, one thing Virgos do is succeed.

4. Libra Mars

As a scorpio mars, libra mars is not my favorite placement. But as I checked my vedic chart and I do, in fact, have a libra mars, I hate that I understand why they act the way they do.

They care so much about everything being perfect, everyone getting along and most importantly being at peace with the ones they love. The cliches are true for a reason, they dislike conflict and yes, are passive agressive but it’s because they don’t want to lose the people they love with petty drama.

So they don’t say anything, and they accomodate even tho that one thing irritated them and then when you confront them about something, they bring you everything you’ve done wrong for the past six months. That’s the part I hate, ofc, but I also hate that I get it.

I get it. They’re the biggest people pleasers and when they don’t say anything about something that upsets them, they actually think they’re doing it for the greater good. They obviously analyse everything you’re doing wrong, but they don’t mind not saying it cause they’d rather be at peace with you. So how dare you don’t do the same for them?

That’s the mentality. Unfortunately for them, it brings bigger conflict because then you feel betrayed they never said anything to begin with. UGH.

SPEAK YOUR MIND, Libras of any placements actually <3

5. Sagittarius Mercury

If you consider yourself soft, delicate, sensitive, do not date a Sag mercury. These people are ruthless. As friends, I find them hilarious and fun to be around, but as lovers I would never do that to myself again. Just never <3. They are very blunt (which doesn’t mean they won’t lie! We’re talking about a Jupiter ruled sign here yall), but in a way that won’t make you feel good about yourself. They’ll often use humour to attack you and then use it as a shield the moment you call them out on it (i.e : It was just a jokeeeeee!)

Gives very good advice, I’ll give them that. I think sometimes I can have a little bit of tunnel vision and with Sag mercuries, they’re able to tap you on the shoulder and be like “Have you consider this tho?” in the most casual way and you’re like “oh.. no. yes. you’re right”

6. Aquarius Venus

If you love the friends to lovers trope, you’ll just love dating an Aquarius venus because that friendship-like relationship will be the foundation of your dynamic. Everything feels fun, the complicity is at an all time high.

But the commitment.

Now, I’ve read multiple times here that Aquarius venus is actually very committed to the person they love when they like you. Well, I guess I wasn’t his person cause I only felt the commitment phobia.

Anyways, I still loved the dynamic of the relationship, but I can’t lie, it didn’t feel serious at all.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~••~•~•~•~•~•

Well that’s all for me, today. Love yall!!

Remember, these are the big 6 of my ex so it is biased nothing to take too personal but if it applies and resonates, great💛

B.

[wonyrs]

feeling (un)lucky

nishimura riki x fmr gnr fluff, est. relationship warnings food, threats of breaking up, physical touch (kicking used once) wc 625 + library #

‘ one mistake almost ruins the entire date (but don't fear, for nishimura riki is here!). drabble style

“are you being serious right now, riki?”

your anxiety levels peaked as u stare at your boyfriend in disbelief. he shares your panic and frowns.

“why would i lie about this, babe?” he answers, his tone nervous. niki looked like he was going to shit his pants— whereas you would’ve taken a photo of if it weren’t for the current circumstances. “please forgive me.”

“i’m so close to punching you right now, nishimura. who forgets their wallet on a date at a millionaire’s restaurant?” you whisper-shouted.

there was a server behind you two, secretly eyeing you both in suspicion while handing out the meals. any decibel louder and the security might be called in.

“i’m sorry, okay?” niki pleads, his hands pressed together in a begging motion. you sigh and shake your head.

so much for a date night.

it took both of you weeks of preparation to be able to match the restaurant’s vibe. the establishment being settled at the top of the namsan seoul tower made the prices (un)reasonably expensive.

your boyfriend, who was on your last nerve, dismissed your worries on whether the prices were too high (quote: “i got the money under control. just leave it to me, princess ;).

turns out all his smugness about the finances went back and bit him in the butt seeing as how he forgot his card at home— almost an hour from the tower AND no one is back there to fetch it for him. talk about bad luck.

“if i could just call jay-hyung to go back and bring it here then mayb-“ a voice cut him off. you turn to the sound and your heart drops down to your ass. the last possible person you’d ever want to see.

“excuse me, sir and ma’am,” the staff started off. “we’ve noticed that you’ve… um… been finished for quite some time and,” they give you an awkward smile. both of you reciprocate.

“were wondering if there is anything else you’d like to order, or if you’d like the bill now?” your eyes widen. you whip your head to your boyfriend and signal with your eyes ‘no!’. he looks indecisive and nudges your foot underneath the table.

you held back a remark and resorted to softly kicked his shin instead.

“um… we’d actually like to order this special please,” you point to the menu, “if we can.”

the waiter grins and nods his head. he straightens his posture and walks back to the kitchen, ready to inform the team of the new order.

“riki. babe. love of my life. please call jay right now, i’m afraid this distraction won’t last long,” you lean over the table and grip his hands in yours. niki’s phone was in his hand, dialing the numbers of your potential saviour.

“it’ll be fine, n/n,” he assures you, rubbing his thumb over yours in an attempt to calm you down. “the most we’ll get is a scolding- but at least we won’t wash dishes!” niki laughs.

you roll your eyes and pinch him, inciting a small ‘hey!’ from the boy. while he did relax your nerves- just a little bit- the annoyance from earlier was still there.

with other couples chat in brisk, you two are stuck in a dilemma with only one person to rely on. your hands still intertwined, niki squeezes yours as comfort- whether for you or himself, we’ll never know.

“if we finish this next meal and jay isn’t here, consider this our last restaurant date, ‘ki.”

niki’s eyes widen in fright, practically leaping over the table to grab your shoulders. he shakes you around like a ragdoll while the other customers send over weird stares, their own conversations dimming down slowly.

“wait- please don’t say that, babe!”

note hi!! first drabble kind of bad :P but its ok!! more room for improvement (also TXT at knotts?? ARGHH) @cupidhoons read this before i posted :3

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 1. - Chapter 2. - Chapter 3

Chapter 4. - Chapter 5. - Chapter 6

Chapter 7. - Chapter 8. - Chapter 9

Chapter 10. - Chapter 11. - Chapter 12

Chapter 13. - Chapter 14. - Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Word Count: 1708

Chapter 16:

Once again, and as it was expected, arguments soon rose between the coven members. Yet through those arguments, confessions quickly came to light.

Like the fact that Alice recognised those markings, and was forced to expose one of her deepest secrets.

"I thought it was me, that it's my fault that I can't keep a job, that everything I touch turns to shit, that I couldn't save her" she confessed, refusing to meet any of your gazes. "I convinced myself they were birthmarks. Even though she had the same ones"

Jen seemed to connect the dots the fastest. "Wait, are we talking about a generational curse?"

You held back a groan the best you could, and all that was heard from you was a forced sigh.

Generational curses were the worst of the curses and you had been lucky to avoid them in your prolonged life. They were almost impossible to break, their bases so dark it was almost supernatural in terms of power.

While the tensions between the group intensified, you felt a sharp acute pain coming from both your shoulders.

With a loud gasp, you leaned forward; eyes wide open as you felt as if someone had touched a torch right on your skin.

You could not help but hiss and close your eyes momentarily, trying not to let this pain make you lose focus or have you on the ground.

Once was enough, your pride was not going to let you fall victim to it again; let alone let it make you kneel.

"Fuck" you cursed as you opened your eyes, pressing your teeth against one another and watched Alice rush your way.

To her surprise, you lifted your hand and motioned for her not to approach; confusing them group. Mastering all the self-control you had, you brought your free hand, placed it on the shoulder burning the most, and started to chant something under your breath.

White magic was barely noticeable beneath your hand, but a few seconds after, you constantly repeated some sort of mantra; you felt free of the pain, and you could breathe again.

Panting faintly, you looked at your audience; only two were not utterly surprised by your actions. The rest were both curious and slightly suspicious.

"How did you do that?" Alice asked, not expecting to have another protection witch in the group.

"Anti-curse spell. Works on the caster only, " you explained, not daring to check your skin for any marks.

You would deal with them later, when you would be free of any trial related danger.

Jen narrowed her eyes. "An anti-curse spell powerful enough to keep away a generational curse?" She asked rhetorically, clearly not believing you.

You had been honest on that part, feeling no need to lie. You had to give it to Jen for not settling for the breadcrumbs you had just given them.

However, now it was not the time to go into depth how you made such spell work.

Thankfully for you, the trial or the curse were furious with your little trick and chose to attack a different coven member... Teen.

Though this time, there was no burning sensation or anything mystical.

No, this time, something invisible hit the boy with so much force; it sent him flying.

You gasped and placed your hands in front of your mouth as you saw Teen being thrown mid air, smashing through the two way mirror glass of the recording booth and landing outside; right in the control room.

Everyone rushed to check on him, fearing for the worst after such attack; none questioning why the boy was attacked differently than the rest.

Thankfully, Teen was alright or at least not critically injured. He was even smiling faintly as he noticed almost everyone surrounding him; Jen having chosen to stay in the protective circle.

"Hey." He greeted weakly. "I got attacked by the curse. Does that mean I'm part of the coven?"

His innocent question made you smile faintly, relieved that he was okay. You slowly helped him to stand up, carefully ensuring he would not collapse any moment now.

"Blessings and burdens alike." You told him, seeing his naive little smile growing.

As you all gathered back in the recording booth, you started to discuss how to deal with this curse; the time on the metronome continuing ticking but this time you didn't know just how much Time you had been left.

In the end, by inspecting the broken record; a solution was found. Since the curse came from the record played backwards, the only way to battle it is to play the song normally.

Ironically, the song was none other than the Ballad of the Witches Road; sang by none other than Alice's mother, Lorna Wu.

Also, the genius mind of Agatha made the ultimate deduction.

"What did Lorna want from The Road? What was her intention? To save her daughter. You should have burnt to a crisp years ago, but here you are. Sullen and aimless, but alive. That's because at any given moment somewhere, someone is playing that song that you hate so much. Lorna's Ballad is a protection spell. It protected you."

Agatha's words seemed to bypass any of Alice's defenses, trying to win her over and give her the courage to play the song. Every member of the coven had to participate and since that trial was related to her mother, Alice was the centre of it all.

At Agatha's words, you could not help but glance to the ground momentarily. Hearing of Lorna's love for her daughter, going as far as to create a song spell to save her daughter... it made your heart ache.

You barely knew your mother, anything about her a distant and blurry memory at the very back of your mind. At least your birth mother, that is.

You did not have a motherly figure in your life, many witches doing the bare minimum to help you, but none wished to get attached to you; even though you were a little orphan girl.

Perhaps this was what had attracted you to Agatha in the first place. Being older than you and actually interested in being part of your life, had made you form an incredible bond with her; even if someone might argue this bond was one way.

Sometimes, though, you did wish to know more.

To know if this woman you had called your mother as a child, ghe very same one tht had chosen to look after and raise you, would have done something similar to protect you, rather than leaving through the door one morning and letting you wake up alone to an empty house.

You had never managed to find her again, and as for your birth mother, you had done a lot of research and got some answere; though you wouldn't mind to know more.

However, you feared it would not be possible; not with your situation.

Feeling a pair of eyes, you dared to search for them; only to see Agatha studying you. It was her turn to read through your fake mask and read your intentions, the topic of a mother hard to both of you; for different reasons.

Trying to look the other way, you were caught by Rio. She seemed to be intensely staring at you, though her gaze was soft; and you could swear you saw something that looked like sympathy or even regret.

"So," you cleared your throat. "Who plays what?" You asked, hoping to change the topic and also remind everyone that the metronome was still ticking.

"Okay, who's good on piano? Lilia?" Agatha asked, driving to take the lead since no one else was willing to do so.

"No. No, I studied the zils." The older witch argued. "And a little pan flute."

Defeated, Agatha turned to the other witch. "Jen."

"Ballet."

"Oh, come on, guys!" She groaned, not believing they were in such situation.

Their lives were depending on a stupid song, and no one seemed to have any music experience.

"I play guitar. Sort of." Teen informed a little shyly.

You chose to join. "I also do"

Your words made Agatha stare at you with an arched eyebrow. Her expression was literally screaming 'since when?'

You offered her a plain simple smile, unable to explain to her that you learnt Guitar during a difficult new moon; and then you kept it as a hobby.

Agatha did not comment about it but you could see the twinkle of interest in her blue eyes. When all of this was done and you had reached the end of the road, she would definitely ask you more about it; perhaps even make you play something for her.

Definitely not the Ballad of the Witches Road.

After some discussion that almost led to a argument between Jen and Agatha; you all found your respective instruments.

Rio had the drums, Alice the piano, Jen the Bass, Lilia the Zils (surprising everyone such instrtument was present) and you with Teen had the guitars.

"I am not sure how well I can play this" the boy confesed to you in a hushed tone as he fixed his grip on the instrument.

You both stood side by side.

"It's not a hard one. If you get stuck, follow my lead" you reassured him, a small smile just enough to make him relax a little bit.

He did and offered a small smile in return while trying to fix the guitar strap, all while doing the best to ignore the sharp pain coming from the side of hid abdomen.

Then, you did not notice it and failed to see that his landing was not as smooth or harmless as you thought it was.

Once everyone was ready, the lightning in the room changed and slowly you started to play the beat of the Ballad.

Agatha stood in the middle, right in front of the microphone and yet before she could truly start singing; the curse attacked her too.

"Agatha!" You and Teen exclaimed, almost rushing to her side.

"Keep playing!" She hissed, having bent one knee and supporting herself on the mike stand. "Keep playing!"

Left with no choice, you all focused on the rhythm as Agatha started to sing.

Chapter 17

[thepartyresponsible]

prompt fill! someone asked for jason todd and truth serum. this was also supposed to fill the request for "who did this to you?" with phil/jason, but i didn't make it to "who did this to you?" part. sorry! i'm trying to keep these under 1k.

anyway, this one's a bit bleak, but educational. here, jason learns an important life lesson: if you go undercover as a criminal, sometimes people believe you. and phil learns to reorder his interrogation questions.

warnings for drugging people without their consent. the drug in question is a fictional truth serum.

- - -

Using this particular drug on a nonconsenting person is a crime in most of the world. A recent amendment to the Geneva Convention marked its use on prisoners of war as a war crime. There’s a blanket ban on its production and use in the European Union. In the United States, administration by law enforcement personnel was ruled a violation of the Fifth and Eighth Amendments.

But SHIELD is not at war. Nor is it a law enforcement agency. And Phil Coulson is not in territory controlled by the United States or the European Union. The man in SHIELD custody undoubtedly has rights of some kind, but the extent of those rights – and who might be obligated to protect them – is currently unknown.

“It’s messy,” he says, to Fury.

“It’s a mess,” Fury replies. “Clean it up.”

- - -

He’s younger than Phil expected. But he has no right to judge anyone for sending their young to die. After all, he looks older than Natasha, possibly older than Clint.

And Natasha and Clint might be dead. In some ways, SHIELD’s no better.

“Your name, please,” Phil says.

“Jason,” the man says, a slow, sleepy mumble, and then his eyes open, and the panic hits.

Phil’s grown familiar with panic. He’s seen it in civilians and soldiers, in diplomats and dictators. He’s seen it every time he’s encountered this drug.

When it was first developed, early adopters trotted out the old lie: if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear. But everyone has something to hide. Everyone has a secret they would swallow their own tongue to protect, and here’s a substance that takes that choice away, a wonder drug that retains awareness while negating will. A life-saving torture device.

“Fuck you,” the man says, which is far more spirit than most manage.

“Jason,” Phil says, “my agents are missing.”

“Fuck you,” Jason says, again. “That’s what happens.” He’s double-blinking, struggling to focus. Phil’s done this six times. No one's ever managed this level of control. Usually, they’re drooling by now, spilling secrets and saliva into the collar of their shirts.

Something’s wrong.

“You’ll have to excuse me,” Phil says. “We must have miscalculated your dosage.”

- - -

Medical reports back half an hour later. There was no miscalculation. The man has a tolerance they assure him should not be possible.

“We gave him a second dose. He should be amenable now,” the doctor says. “If he doesn’t stop breathing.”

Amenable, Phil thinks. He explores the hollow inside him where the horror should’ve been. It’s a terrible thing they’re doing. He knows that.

But his agents are missing.

“Thank you,” he says. And he goes back to work.

- - -

“You know,” Jason tells him, glassy-eyed, barely looking Phil’s direction, “if you ask the wrong questions, I have to kill you."

It’s an interesting threat from a man who cannot lie.

“And what are you afraid you’ll tell me?” Phil asks.

“Identities,” he answers, chest rising slower than a sleeper’s.

“Ah,” Phil says. “Yes, we’ll get to that.”

“Batman,” he adds, unexpectedly. “Nightwing.” He swallows, clumsily. When he breathes in, he chokes. Phil watches him almost drown for a moment and then he reaches across the table and tugs Jason’s head forward so he can breathe.

He barely has the coordination to breathe, but the contact makes him flinch hard enough to shake the table. Phil wonders who made a creature like him.

“Who do you work for?” he asks.

“Nobody.” And then, almost smiling, voice dropping into a guttural growl, “Justice.”

Which could be good news. Killers with a mission are predictable, once you understand their cause. “And who decides justice? Who gives you orders?”

“Nobody.”

Interesting. Most freelancers don’t work at this level, and the ones who do should have extensive SHIELD files. “Who’s been signing your checks lately?”

“Checks,” Jason says, and laughs. “Fucking checks.”

He’s been thoroughly dosed with a drug designed to make him highly suggestible and meekly compliant. Phil’s starting to understand why capturing him was such a costly undertaking.

“Whose money is in your accounts right now?”

Jason makes a noise, some gusty grumble of complaint, and then lists off a dozen or so of the very worst people alive. The most interesting names are the ones Phil doesn’t recognize, but he’ll have to get to those later. The window is short; his time is running out.

A single dose is risky. Some people never fully recover their independence. They’re rendered permanently docile, suffering from a kind of chemical lobotomy that good people across the globe have outlawed. A second dose doubles the odds of permanent damage. After the third, some people won't even breathe without orders.

They’ve given him two already.

“These people who’ve been paying you,” Phil says, “which of them is paying you right now?”

Jason sighs. “Nobody pays me. I stole that money.”

“You---” Phil pauses, looks at his notes. He re-reads the names, marvels at the insanity of stealing from any of them. “You stole from those people?”

“Stole from ‘em,” he says, “killed ‘em. Well, killed some. Gonna kill the others. It’s, you know. A to-do list. I’ve been busy.”

Phil wonders if he’s been wasting his time, if he’s drugged a delusional man. “You don’t steal from people like that before you kill them.”

Jason tilts his head so he can look up him, furrows his brow in something that is almost a coherent expression of disdain. “You never have any fun, huh?”

Phil might be dealing with someone far more dangerous than he’d predicted. “You do this for fun?”

“Yeah,” Jason says. “And for justice.”

Justice, right. Of course. “And who taught you about justice?”

“My dad,” Jason says.

Which is good. Which might be helpful. Truth has its uses, but, in Phil’s experience, leverage gets more accomplished.

“And who,” Phil says, “is your father?”

Jason’s eyes track his direction but don’t quite land. His mouth closes and then opens again. “Batman,” he says.

“Oh,” Phil says. “Shit.”

[ineylesian]

— INHERITENLY UNJUST DESTINY

AVENTURINE X READER

AO3 | NAVIGATION

WORD COUNT — 900

WARNINGS — slight 2.1 spoilers, lowk angst, word vomit about aventurine’s lack of self esteem, sappy unconditional positive regard, handsy aven bc he’s touch starved, preesetablished relationship

SUMMARY — aventurine does not understand the twist of fate that allows him to stand beside you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — the lack of official aventurine art is making me gnaw at the bars of my enclosure, sloppy headers for now!!

Aventurine isn’t sure how to feel. 

The low hues of noon cast a gentle light upon his gloves, giving light to the sea of shattered stones that lie in his grasp. A sea of dazzling green, torn and fragmented beyond repair.

He’s sure he sees it now, a reflection of the wildly wretched life he’s lived sitting in the palms of his hands. The remnants of the only control he’s managed to retain in his life frail as dust in the winds. SIlent he remains, still as a pound dog that has had its bone ripped away from it. 

It isn’t until he feels the ghost of your hands along his own that Aventurine realizes his heart is racing. You spin him to face you, and his heart lurches at the worry that etches itself upon your features. He fights with narratives in his head that play games of fallacies, yet the scorch of his devotion to you leaves his tongue tied.

Facades are a game that come like second nature to Aventurine, but he swears he will not do to you what he deems business in his schemes. Instead, he pulls at what little honesty remains in the depths of his heart and his breath shutters. 

“Guess I’m back to where I was five years ago.”

The words come out quiet, too soft for his nature and simply small. It’s a confession that makes him wonder how many other pieces of his life will break apart until the whole is severed. There’s a fear that lingers within, bubbling to the surface as he attempts to withdraw from your hold.

Aventurine does not believe that his life holds any meaning with or without the cornerstone. Yet, that title made him seem as if he truly meant something, and without it, what little reign he held over his life disappeared. 

He believes you deserve fire, yet he is no more than an ember flickering on a stoked match. He cannot burn in flames bright enough to keep you.

Silently, he awaits your scold, the reprimand that deems him as worthless as he believes himself to be. A reminder that it was all but a stroke of luck that brought you to him, a trial that has run out as you see him for who he truly is, barren and scared.

His hands shake as you guide them to pour his shattered stone into the box at his feet. Shock etches itself upon his features, and he looks to you with nothing but raw, unparalleled fear as you speak. 

“You will always be the same to me.”

Aventurine does not understand the twist of fate that allows him to stand beside you. Single handedly, you vowed to peer into the wasteland that was his soul, and devoted yourself to his inherently unjust destiny. And, even as his life’s worth is ripped away from him, you love him unchanged.

An insatiable want carves at his soul like a day yearns for night, and Aventurine knows no other place to put his hands but around you in embrace. His hold is tight, as if he imagines that you will fade away if he abandons it. Yet, the weave of your fingers through his hair is enough to tell him that you’re no illusion, a sensation that will cease to disappear as long as he lives.

“Let me see you, Aven.”

Your words flow as lost prayers on the horizon do, and Aventurine retracts his grasp on you, allowing his knees to bring him to the ground. Your hands, gentle as streambeds in the spring, cup his face, running over spilt tears from keeled eyelashes. Instinctively, his hands latch onto your wrists, desperately chasing after your warmth and attempting to sear it into his skin.

Aventurine outwardly sighs as you run your fingers along his jaw, stopping to tuck a stray wisp of hair behind his ear. Although your gaze rocks with the deepest seas of adoration, the child deep within his heart beckons him to gamble with his luck once again. A risk that trails the faint quiver of his lips, as he would utter no such words to any other being in the entire cosmos.

“Will you kiss me?”

Wordlessly, you nod, and Aventurine closes his eyes. The soft touch of your lips quells the troubles that brew within, igniting fire against endless water. His hands fall to his lap, melting in the passion of your touch, and his heart craves to continue beating as if you are the oxygen that fills his lungs. 

He refuses to leave you until there is no air left for him to breathe. Gasping for the vitality of you that runs rampant through his veins, Aventurine tilts his head upward, and your heart flutters at the gentle smile that greets your gaze. Brilliant hues of purple and blue shimmer amidst the night, and his hold on you returns, hands moving to interlock themselves with your own. It’s the same gesture that holds you in the deep of dusk, never waning as lost prayers to the universe whisper behind closed doors. 

The words that follow are never far from you, spinning like soft woven silk that rests in your dreams when he’s away. Your eyes shut as he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, spreading warmth to your cheeks that subdue the chills of frosted wind. In yearn, you wait, reveling in the soft fan of his breath over your skin.

“I love you.”

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Seventeen

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing too warning worthy, just some really creepy vibes at the end. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.5k

A/N : happy fic-friday!

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MASTER LIST

Chapter Seventeen

You sat in silence, too paralysed by fear to think rationally. There were things you knew you should be doing, like looking out of the window and trying to figure out where you were and, perhaps more importantly, where you were going. But, really, what did it matter? You’d always known that it would come down to this, that you’d end up his prisoner and, now, you knew for certain that no one was going to save you.

Your eyes drifted to the rear window, not looking at him, not even acknowledging his existence. 

The streets of New York all looked the same at night; all bright lights and crowds of people. The only thing you could tell was that you didn’t seem to be leaving the city. Somehow that made things worse, knowing that you were still so close to Billy but you might as well have been a million miles away. 

And, suddenly, despite your situation, Billy was all you could think about. He was probably at Josie’s by now, he’d probably realised that you were gone and that he’d never see you again. He was probably so angry.

“You’ll soon get tired of giving me the silent treatment,” he stated with a confidence that made you sick to your stomach, “but I’m not going to rush you. I have patience and we have the rest of forever.”

Forcing a breath, you tried everything you could to keep a blank face and not give into the scared helplessness that was filling you. Your gaze remained focused on the window and the streets you’d been so excited to explore only a few weeks ago. 

A sense of claustrophobia took hold the moment the limo turned into an underground parking structure, darkness filling the car and making you feel more trapped than ever. Then the car stopped.

You didn’t move, didn’t even tear your eyes away from the window.

Until he reached for you.

His cold hand on yours caused you to flinch and pull away, only to find fingers tightly gripping your good wrist.

“You’re going to behave for me,” he told you, the slightest hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.

“Or what?”

You weren’t sure what came over you in that moment but you were just as surprised by your sudden snap as he was.

“Do I have to remind you what will happen to your family?” He asked, leaning closer, gripping tighter. “Or maybe I should remind you what I’m capable of...”

“You don’t scare me anymore, Mr Drake,” you answered back, his name spat from your mouth like venom despite knowing you were only making things worse. 

“Please, you should call me Justin since you’re going to be my wife,” he offered with a smile that made you feel ill. “And you should be scared of what could happen if you try to refuse me again.”

“Am I supposed to care what happens to my parents after they sold me to you?”

You didn’t expect the laugh that followed, a sound that caused the dread in your stomach to continue to build.

“And what about Irene? You still care about her, right?”

The sound of your sister’s name on his lips was almost enough to cause your heart to stop. It was a lie, it had to be. She’d been gone for years, no one knew where she was or how to find her.

“You’re lying.” You decided to call his bluff.

He let go of your arm to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. A moment later you felt bile rise in the back of your throat at the picture he showed you. It had been years since you’d seen her, but there was no mistaking that it was your older sister. The sickening feeling only continued to increase as he started to swipe through pictures; pictures of a family, of two young children and a telltale bump on her belly.

“If you’d prefer I could take what’s owed me from her instead, along with your nephews and your unborn niece.” He put the phone away, no longer needing it to threaten you. He’d made his point.

“You’re a monster.”

He laughed again.

“Oh, darling, you have no idea.” He leaned to open the door and then gave a wave of his hand, indicating that he wanted you to move. “It’s up to you whether we do this the easy way or the hard way.”

For a few seconds you remained completely still, defiant.

Then you moved.

What choice did you have? You knew he could bend you to his will if he wanted to, you knew he could hurt you and those closest to you. More than that, you knew that you were completely alone. No one was going to look for you. No one was coming to your rescue.

“Good choice,” you heard him mutter as he followed you out of the limo.

You bristled at the touch of his hand against your lower back, guiding you towards the elevator but you moved regardless, knowing better than to think you could outrun a vampire in the gloomy parking lot.

The elevator doors slid shut, trapping you with him and his driver, watching as he swiped a key card for the penthouse floor. Your heart lurched along with the elevator and, despite wanting to remain steely and unphased by the situation, you found yourself pulling your arms across your chest.

It was only then that you realised your suitcase was nowhere to be seen. Try as you might, you couldn’t remember what had happened to it. It had been with you when you left Josie’s but then you’d walked into Krista and -

And after that, everything was hazy.

“Where are my things?” You asked. “I had a suitcase.”

“Gone. You don’t need it,” he answered.

Your chest tightened, squeezing out a breath. Your eyes fixed forward, unblinking, not wanting to show him how upset you were. You weren’t bothered about your things, about your purse or phone, but your heart was breaking over the stuffed beagle that meant so much to you, the last little piece of Billy that you had.

“I want it,” you demanded defiantly. 

“Why?” He asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Because it’s mine. If you want me to stay here and not cause problems, then you need to find it.” You glared at him as he spoke, as if there was really anything you could do to hurt him. 

He seemed disinterested but shrugged before giving his driver a glance. The man nodded, understanding his orders without a word even passing between them. Though, by now, you knew it was probably too late. You’d probably never see Bill the Beagle again.

As he led you into the penthouse suite, his driver disappeared back into the elevator, but you weren’t so naive as to think that you were alone with him. He’d have his goons somewhere near, in case he needed them. If you wanted to even think about trying to get away from him again, you were going to have to bide your time.

Your stomach dropped when you were led into a bedroom. You lingered in the doorway, leaving as much space between you and him as you could and, of course, he noticed.

“There’s no need to be shy,” he told you, barely holding back a smirk.

“I’m not being shy,” you answered back. 

His gaze darkened.

“I can’t say that I like this new attitude you seem to have developed. I can see now why William Russo had to resort to physical means to keep you in line,” he stated, gesturing at your broken arm.

“You don’t know anything about Billy,” you snapped through gritted teeth.

“Oh, Billy is it?” He asked, looking at you like he could look right through you, like he could tell every little thought in your head, and he didn’t like what he saw. “Got close to him, did you?”

You felt your cheeks start to burn while your hands clenched to fists at your side, and he noticed it all.

“More than that?” He asked, though he didn’t need to hear an answer. “You’re lucky I’m not a jealous man, otherwise I might have taken it out on poor dear Billy. But, then, why should I be jealous of a vampire who likes to play with his food?” 

“You know nothing about it or him.”

“Oh, I know plenty,” he answered back. “Enough to know that he’ll have a new girl in his employ, bleeding for him by the end of the week and probably in his bed just as quick, just like he replaced your friend Krista...”

You shook your head, insolent, even though some part of you wondered if he was right. Perhaps Lissa had already put out an advertisement for your replacement.

But you weren’t given time to linger on the thought. He closed the distance between you, his cold fingers grasping your chin, turning your head one way and then the other as he inspected your neck.

“Did he bite you?” He asked and you stayed silent, so he resorted to threats. “Do I have to strip you and check for myself?”

The threat was enough to break you. “No. He didn’t bite me.”

“Good. Now get changed out of those clothes, so we can have supper and discuss our future together.” A wave of his hand led your gaze to an outfit that had been set out for you on the bed.

----------------

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Billy asked as if he thought Karen might have some magic answer to explain everything that was going on.

She’d explained about Madani, about the questions the Homeland agent had about Billy, as well as the warning that she’d offered outside the hospital. But she only knew what you had shared with her and the little that Madani had been willing to say, and it wasn’t a lot. 

And it certainly wasn’t enough for Billy.

“I don’t know, I guess because she didn’t believe it, she didn’t think it was worth worrying you with it,” Karen offered, lifting her glass and taking a slow drink.

Billy and Frank had asked around, hoping someone had seen you while Karen called Madani, but the most they got was from a drunk who thought you might have gotten into a limousine with friends. By the time they sat to wait for the Homeland agent, Billy was crawling out of his skin.

“And you’re sure she didn’t believe it?” He asked, again trying to get an answer that he knew Karen couldn’t possibly know.

“Well, she saw Krista, didn’t she?” Frank offered. “Hard to think you killed someone who’s still walkin’ around.”

“But, what if -” he started and stopped as Karen dared to reach across the table, placing a hand on his arm.

“Billy, she didn’t leave because she thought you’d done something wrong,” she offered.

“No, she left because I’m like... this...”

Frank bristled at his side but didn’t say anything, though Karen could tell just how much effort it took for him to bite his tongue. She’d seen them have that argument before, and she’d been the one left to console Frank afterwards.

“We’ll find her, Billy,” Karen tried again, pulling back her hand.

“I just -” he started but stopped the moment he noticed a woman in a suit approaching them, eyeing him with very obvious suspicion.

Karen’s eyes followed Billy’s, and she quickly stood up.

“Agent Madani.”

“Ms Page,” she greeted Karen before uncomfortably eyeing Billy and Frank.

“Something’s happened and we need your help,” Karen tried to explain, waving a hand, trying to get Madani to sit. 

Between the three of them, they explained what had happened as far as they knew, up to the point where they found your suitcase on the sidewalk. An uncomfortable silence fell while Madani took it all in.

“How can you be sure she didn’t just abandon it?” Madani asked, glancing at the case.

“She wouldn’t do that,” Billy answered, his hand resting on the stuffed beagle. “Why would she leave her phone and purse?”

Madani looked at him for a few moments, saying nothing.

“And how do I know that any of this is true?” She finally asked. “How do I know that this isn’t some elaborate ruse? How do I know she isn’t dead somewhere and all of this is to stop me from asking questions later on?”

“I didn’t kill her. I haven’t killed anyone. I -” Billy started to snap.

“Bill,” Frank warned, silencing him.

“You’ve got a badge, right?” Karen asked. “The store across the street has got a security camera pointed at the street, you can take a look at the last hour and see if we’re telling the truth or not.”

Frank struggled to fight back a grin, nudging Karen with his elbow, impressed with her. Madani on the other hand, seemed a little less enthusiastic. 

“It’s not that simple, I’d need a warrant, and -”

“We don’t have time -” Karen started.

“Fuck this,” Billy muttered, getting to his feet.

Frank followed suit. “What’re you doin’, Bill?” 

“I’m going to get the security footage myself,” he answered.

“Hey, if you think I’m going to sit back while you commit a crime -” Madani was on her feet a second later.

“The more time we waste, the harder it’s going to be to find her,” Billy snapped. “And I’m not going to lose her. You can either help or you can stay out of my way, but I’m warning you, Agent Madani, I’m not someone you want as an enemy.”

Without another word, he started towards the door, Madani and Frank following after while Karen opted to hang back with your suitcase.

Billy made his way across the street, not caring if he was followed; he was determined to find out what happened, with or without help. With the way he was feeling, he’d tear the store owner apart if he even tried to get in his way. And Frank seemed to realise that. It was why he didn’t let Billy get more than a few feet ahead of him.

And Madani followed because she was almost hoping that he’d do something to prove her right about him.

“How we doin’ this then?” Frank asked just outside the little corner store, stopping Billy in his tracks. 

“That’s up to Agent Madani,” Billy answered, glaring at the Homeland agent.

For a few seconds she looked at the two vampires, hating that she was being put on the spot but realising that there was nothing that she could do to stop them from looking at the footage one way or another.

“Fine, wait here,” she answered, as she moved to step past Billy.

“What? If you think I’m -” Billy was silenced by Frank’s hand on his shoulder.

Madani waited for a beat before entering the store alone.

The bell over the door chimed, signalling her arrival to the young guy behind the counter who looked up from his phone for a split-second before dropping his gaze again. Madani strode towards the counter, reaching into her jacket for her badge and ID. For a few seconds she didn’t say anything, instead she listened to the faint sounds coming from the assistant's phone.

‘If vampire’s keep taking all the wealth and making it so honest, hard working humans can’t find a decent job that pays a decent wage -”

She cleared her throat, having heard all she needed to. Anti-vampire sentiment was still widespread and there were plenty of online commentators willing to try to make a quick buck from it, and in this situation, it was something she could use to her advantage.

“Agent Madani, Homeland Security,” she stated. The kid looked ready to shit himself at the sight of her badge. “I’m going to need to see the CCTV footage from the front of the store for the last couple of hours.”

“I -” for a moment he struggled to find the words, “- I think I’d need to ask my boss.”

“Is he here right now?”

“No, he lives in Jersey...”

Madani let out a sigh, letting the kid see her frustration.

“Listen, I’ll level with you, I’m tracking a dangerous vampire,” she told him and saw a flicker of anger on his face. “I think they’ve hurt a lot of people, a lot of young women about your age...”

“Fucking bloodsuckers,” he muttered.

“If I could see that footage, I might be able to catch him and, if I do...” she shrugged, “well, there’d be nothing to stop you from posting the whole thing online. I hear you can make a lot of money with stuff like this.”

Madani could practically see dollar signs lighting up behind his eyes. At any other time it might have bothered her just how easily influenced the kid was, but time was of the essence and she needed to know if Russo was lying to her. 

“Yeah, okay,” the kid relented, “it’s in the back here.” 

He gave a quick glance around the store, making sure it was still empty before showing her into the backroom. The set up was hardly state of the art, but it was easy enough to use - in fact, she’d used several similar systems in the past, so it didn’t take her long to scrub through the video and find the exact moment that you left Josie’s. The picture quality wasn’t brilliant and the poor lighting on the street didn’t help, but you were easy enough to spot with your suitcase.

Madani watched as someone deliberately stepped into your path before taking you by the arm and leading you towards a waiting limousine. She managed to get half of the licence plate of the limo and snapped a quick photo of the blurry figure with her phone while the kid’s back was turned, then she stood.

“Is it on there?” He asked.

“No,” she answered, forcing another sigh, “looks like the bastard managed to slip by just out of range of the camera.”

His disappointment was palpable.

“But that isn’t to say that he won’t come back,” Madani offered, “so it’d be best if you didn’t mention this to anyone, otherwise you might spook him and... well, I wouldn’t want to see you charged with obstruction after you’ve been so helpful.” 

He nodded and she didn’t waste any time in making her excuses to get out of there.

Billy was pacing by the time she stepped back outside, both men seemed to be engaged in a heated debate about something, and it looked as though Russo was on the losing end of it.

“All I’m sayin’ is -”

“What did you find out?” Billy asked, ignoring Frank and quickly refocusing all of his attention on Madani.

“I’m not sure,” Madani stated, pulling out her phone, “she left the bar and someone met her outside before leading her to a limousine. There wasn’t a struggle but... something didn’t seem right...”

“You think someone was compellin’ her?” Frank asked.

“Maybe. I can’t be sure. I got a partial plate and I’m going to call in some favours to run it, see if I can figure out who owns the limo and where it went,” Madani explained before holding up her phone to the men, showing the blurry image she’d captured. “But, while we wait, we should try to figure out who this is.”

“Fuck,” Billy grit out almost instantly.

“Goddamnit,” Frank let out a second later.

“Well, that was quicker than expected. Care to fill me in?” Madani asked.

“I knew I should’ve killed her,” Billy muttered, forcing an uneven breath, struggling to stay in control of himself.

“It’s Krista Dumont, alive and well, and still pissin’ everyone off,” Frank answered, though his gaze stayed on Billy. “You went lookin’ for her, right, Bill? Know where she might be now?”

“Yeah, I know where she lives,” Billy answered, his attention quickly turning to Madani. “You wanted to know what happened to my previous employees, right? Well, you’re about to find out.”

Without another word, he started moving back towards where he’d left his car. Frank and Madani quickly followed after, the latter on her phone calling in those favours to try and track down the limo.

----------------

You were finally left alone to change, though you spent at least five minutes searching the room, looking for anything that might help you escape. As much as you’d felt resigned to this eventuality, just being around him again had panic and dread gnawing at your insides. You had to get away.

The first thing you did was check the windows, despite already knowing that you were too high up to even consider it an option. In fact, the penthouse suite was so high up that the people on the street below seemed like ants.

Next thing you checked was the room’s phone by lifting it to your ear. No dial tone. No cord connecting it to the wall. If you could get a cord from one of the other phones in the suite, you might be able to call for help. You filled away the thought for later. 

Then you checked the drawers and the wardrobe, feeling sick to your stomach when you found several outfits that were obviously for you. They looked like the sort of clothes your mother would have picked for you and not at all like the outfits you’d enjoyed wearing over the last six months. Even the dress he’d laid out on the bed for you felt uncomfortably conservative - though you supposed you should be glad he wanted you to dress that way.

Shaking your head you tried to force the thought away and concentrate on finding things that might be helpful. 

Wooden hangers could perhaps be turned into weapons but... well, that was a line you didn’t want to think about crossing until you really had to.

“Dinner is here,” you heard his voice from behind the door. “Unless you want me to come in there and dress you myself, I suggest you hurry up.” 

As much as you wanted to be stubborn, as much as you wanted to cause him as much trouble as possible, the sorry fact of the matter was that you were scared. And you had every reason to be scared. So, you gave up your search and quickly changed into the clothes that he had left for you and stepped out into the suite.

The main room was lit by lamps, creating a romantic glow that made you feel sick.

Instead of looking at him and the table, you glanced around the room, taking note of where the phone was and how close the door was. But your host seemed to realise what you were doing.

“Sit,” he ordered, pulling out a chair at the table.

You made a point of walking around him and taking a different seat.

“You’re starting to test my patience,” he remarked, taking his own seat. 

“Already?” You remarked off-handedly, reminding him of the comment he’d made not two hours ago in the limo.

“Did Billy Russo let you talk back like this?”

“He never gave me a reason to,” you answered without hesitation, despite knowing it wasn’t strictly true.

He gave a grunt of irritation before uncovering your food. You looked down at the plate, your lips curling at the sight; tuna steak and salad. While he started to eat, you simply stared down at the plate. Even though you knew you’d never see him again, let alone bleed for him, the thought of eating anything from his list of prohibited foods. It took Justin Drake  a minute to realise that you weren’t eating, and then came the frustrated sigh.

“Are you going to fight me on everything?” He asked.

“I don’t eat tuna.”

“Since when?”

“Since I decided I don’t like it.”

“Then eat the salad,” he snapped.

You took small consolation in the fact that you were already getting to him, showing him that you were going to be far more trouble than you were worth but, again, you knew better than to push too far too soon. He could hurt you. He would hurt you if he felt like it. 

Reluctantly, you began to pick at the salad with your fork, silently wondering if you’d be able to sneak any of the cutlery away from the table.

You ate in silence, neither speaking until you were both done. He’d poured you a glass of wine, but it had been left mostly untouched and, thankfully, he hadn’t thought to order dessert.

“Tomorrow we’ll be travelling home,” he informed you. “The wedding is being arranged as we speak and, by this time next week, you’ll be my wife, so you should rid yourself of any childish notions of escaping or denying me.”

“I won’t marry you.”

“Yes you will.”

“Why? Why any of this? Why me?” You asked, anger quickly starting to bubble over. “I’ll never stop fighting you, I’ll never be yours. How is any of this worth it to you?”

He just laughed at that, sitting back in his chair and lifting his wine glass to his lips, taking a slow drink before even thinking to answer you.

“Because it’s fate.”

“What?” Had you heard him correctly? Had he called it fate?

“It was never about the money - that was just to keep your parents in line - it’s always been about you, my sweet girl.” He continued to smile as your skin started to crawl. “I knew I had to have you the first time I set eyes on you.”

Your stomach continued to churn and tie itself in knots as you thought how long ago that must have been.

“Why?” You dared to ask even though you were terrified of how he might answer.

“You look just like your great-great-great-grandmother.” He paused as if he was expecting you to say something but the shock had rendered you silent. “She was like you, she refused me what should have been mine, and she paid the price.”

It felt like your blood had turned to ice in your veins, not sure exactly what he was telling you, but not wanting to ask for clarification either. You remained silent, wondering how long he’d been tormenting your family like this and if you were the first to find yourself in this situation with him. 

“I always regretted it, once she was gone I mean. I should have handled things differently, but I was young back then, barely past my first century...” he sounded almost wistful, like he was recounting a fond memory. “But then I found you. And I won’t make the same mistake twice. You will bend to my will. You will be my wife in every sense of the word and, when you’ve finally accepted your place at my side, I will give you the greatest gift imaginable.”

You didn’t have to ask to know what he was implying.

“No,” your head shook. “I don’t want to be a vampire.”

“My sweet girl, what makes you think you have a choice?”

End Note : ... I'm not even sorry about ending it like that, I'm having too much fun getting things ready for the final confrontation. I think that there's probably only two more chapters left of this one now (depending on how carried away I get with the next part), so I hope you all enjoy what I've got planned. Also I'm sorry I picked that name for the bad guy...

As ever, thank you so much for reading/liking/reblogging/screaming at me in the comments! Have a great weekend!!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

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[mynameismckenziemae]

A Little Bit Stronger

Part 1

(next part here)

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x OFC

Summary:

Fear is the only thing Shae Williams feels after years of abuse at the hands of her ex-husband. After an encounter where he nearly takes her life, she’s finally free of him…until he finds out where she’s staying. Fear forces her to take the help of the only person who’s offered and is introduced to Bradley Bradshaw in the process.

The last thing Shae needs right now is a relationship and the fact that Bradley understands and respects her wishes makes him that much harder to resist.

Warnings: Just like everything else / write/post: this story is for 18+ only. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. It will contain smut, adult themes, situations and language. Please also note this story may be triggering due to the topic of domestic abuse (physical, emotional, sexual) violence-feel free to message me with any questions before reading.

*This is the Bradley from All of Me (Jake and Reese’s story). You should be able to be read as a stand-alone but it doesn’t hurt to start there.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

2 months prior.

“Why don’t you stay here for a few minutes,” Chad sneers, pushing his seed back inside you that’s beginning to leak out. He’s not gentle; it hurts, causing tears to prick at your eyes, but you refuse to wince, “give my swimmers a few extra minutes to find that egg,” he laughs.

They won’t. The Depo injection you got a few weeks ago at Planned Parenthood after Chad had found your hidden birth control pills will prevent that. It would be a cold day in hell before you brought an innocent child into this mess. The bruises from that beating were nearly healed now.

“Okay,” you reply, cold and numb.

“Dinner reservations are at tonight 6, so I’ll be here at 5:30 to pick you up,” Chad says from the bathroom as he starts the shower, “wear that black dress with the low back I like.”

“I will,” you lie.

If all goes to plan, you’ll be a few hours away by then, where he can’t find you.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You get up as soon as he leaves, wanting nothing more than to get out of this hellhole but needing to wash the evidence of his abuse off of your body.

Your heart is pounding as you pull your suitcases out from the bottom of your closet, already packed and ready to go. Your sweaty hands tremble, barely able to pick up your last-minute supplies to toss them in a tote.

You lift the mattress and reach under where you made a slit, locating the cash you’ve been hiding there and pulling it out before packing it too.

With that cash and the money you transferred into a secret account when you had been working, you should be set until you find a job.

You set your phone on the kitchen table and take a slow, deep breath before walking towards the door.

The handle turns as you reach out to open it; your stomach does too.

“I’m so fucking glad I installed those cameras last week when you were at Pilates,” Chad chuckles darkly as you drop the suitcase, backing away in terror.

He grabs your ponytail when you turn to run, and you cry out loudly at the burning pain in your scalp as he yanks you back. “You’re not going anywhere. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever,” he seethes in your ear. Your stomach rolls in disgust as you can feel him hard against your ass; he’s getting off on this. “You belong to me.”

He pushes you into the table by the door, causing the flower vase atop it to fall and shatter.

“Stupid, ungrateful bitch,” he seethes, stepping over the mess before kicking your hunched form in the ribs, stealing the breath in your lungs from the sharp, searing pain as you land on the hardwood.

It only takes two steps before he’s on you again, gripping your shoulder and turning you to face him. His eyes are full of rage, his pupils dilated from the line he snorted in the car as he spits, “I thought you’d finally learned after the birth control incident. I should’ve known…”

Your head whips to the side and you taste blood when he backhands you, splitting your lip.

You can’t catch your bearings as you try to appease him with an apology; pain radiating from your cheek and there’s a deafening, high-pitched ringing in your ears, “I’m sorry Chad, let me explain-“

Pain explodes in the left side of your face a second later as he punches you as hard as he can before the world goes dark.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Shae?” says a familiar voice, sounding so far away. “Shae, honey, wake up.”

Your right eye slowly blinks open to the bright fluorescent lights; the left is swollen shut and pulsing painfully. The beeping of the heart monitor increases and the pain in your ribs makes itself known as everything comes rushing back.

The police officers arriving, the EMTs putting you on the stretcher, the chilling look in his eyes as you were rolled past, the favorite doctor you worked for giving you a sedative when you arrived in her ER panicking.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Dr. Akins murmurs, putting her hand on yours, “he’s not here, he can’t hurt you.”

You slowly nod. “Where,” you croak, tongue feeling like sandpaper, “where is he?”

“Sitting in jail,” she replies.

“But-“

“For 24 hours,” she assures you, “even with his connections, he won’t be getting out early.”

You nod, still a little dazed and disoriented as you take a drink of the water she offers. “Thank you.”

“He’s why you quit, huh?” Dr. Akins asks. Not judging, just observant.

You nod again.

“What happened? Today I mean,” she clarifies.

“I was leaving,” you whisper, wincing when you look down from the pain in your eye from the movement. “He came home.”

“How did he know? Did you tell anyone?” She asks gently.

“No,” you reply, “not a soul. He said something about installing cameras last week.”

“That’s not legal in the state of California, Shae,” she says softly, stroking her thumb over your hand, “neither is beating your wife half to death.”

You nod once again, gasping from the pain in your ribs when you sit up, “I’ve gotta get out of here before he’s released.”

“Where will you go?” She asks.

“I’m going to rent an Airbnb in San Diego,” you wince as you try to smile, quickly reminded of the split in your lip, “My parents met there when my dad was in the Navy. I visited after college and fell in love. It was the first place that came to mind the…” you trail off.

“The what?”

“The last time this happened,” you whisper, “he found out I was secretly taking birth control since we started trying for a baby…he thought being a family man would help him get a promotion at work…as if that canceled out the alcoholism, drug use, and anger problems.”

“Oh Shae,” she replies. Your eyes fill as you look away when you hear the tears heavy in her voice.

She stands and gently wraps you in a hug, letting you cry for the next few minutes. She hands you a tissue before taking one for herself.

“So…you’ve got an orbital fracture that thankfully doesn’t need surgery, no concussion but you’re gonna have a helluva headache, 3 broken ribs, a split lip, and a few other bumps and bruises,” she says finally, not sugar coating it.

You close your eyes, knowing they’ll want to keep you overnight for another observation.

“There’s two officers from Sacramento PD waiting to talk with you,” she continues, “but I’ll get you discharged when they’re done. As a nurse, I trust you know what signs and symptoms to watch for?”

You open your eyes and nod, “Thank you.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You’re tight-lipped during the conversation with the officers with the entire police department in Chad’s back pocket.

You do ask for a restraining order, knowing it’s just a piece of paper, but it gives you a little peace of mind. You don’t press any further charges either; nothing will come of the ones already existing and you refuse to add fuel to his fire.

“Here’s your discharge papers,” Dr. Akins hands you the stapled stack after they leave, “and a little something from a few of the doctors here. We haven’t forgotten you, Shae.”

“Dr. Akins, you-“ you start but she interrupts.

“Just be safe, okay? My number is in there too, please let me know when you’re settled.”

“Okay,” you whisper, ignoring the shooting pain in your ribs as you pull her in for a final hug, “thank you.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You try not to, but you can’t help but cry when you open the envelope in the Uber that Dr. Akins ordered. A letters of recommendation from her and two other doctors you worked with also, and enough bills to make you feel light-headed.

“Here’s fine,” you tell the driver when he pulls onto your street and is a few houses from yours.

You feel paranoid, but knowing Chad, he’ll check the Ring as soon as he gets released. If he sees a man brought you home, you wouldn’t put it past him to look up the license plate and have his cronies at the police station pull him over; it doesn’t matter that it’s just the man’s job.

“You sure?” He looks skeptically over his shoulder at you.

“Yeah,” you sigh when you try again to smile, tasting blood again when you open the cut in your bottom lip, “thanks.”

Ed, your sweet old neighbor, comes running when he spots you gingerly getting out of the car. “Shae!” He cries when he reaches you, placing his hands on your shoulders, afraid to hurt you, “oh your beautiful eye,” he whispers, tears filling his eyes as he scans your face. “I happened to see him come home, and I knew he wasn’t happy the way he slammed his car door. I’m sorry I called 911, but I heard you yell and then a crash.”

“It’s okay,” you begin to cry too, hating how distressed he is. You’d had quickly befriended him and his wife, Jean, when you moved in. They reminded you so much of your late parents and that’s exactly why Chad put an end to the relationship. “I’m glad you did, Ed.”

“I’m so sorry about Jean,” you continue, guilt overwhelming you. “I wanted to go to the funeral so badly.”

She had passed away nearly a year ago from cancer. You earned a slap across the face when you asked Chad to go to her funeral.

“It’s okay, honey. She knew you loved her and she loved you too,” he replies, pulling you in for the most gentle, tender hug.

The gesture breaks the dam inside you and you begin to sob; body-shaking, from-the-soul sobs.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Come inside,” Ed asks when you finally relax, “Just for a minute. I’ve got a slice of apple pie with your name on it. You’ve gotten too thin.”

“Okay,” you whisper, letting him take your hand.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Do you have my number in your new phone?” Ed asks by his front door after he feeds you not one, but two pieces of his homemade pie. It was your favorite and yet another thing Chad didn’t let you have.

You insist Ed stays home while you get your suitcases, not knowing the whereabouts of Chad’s cameras. The last thing you want is someone else getting hurt, especially Ed.

You nod, “It was the first number I put it, I still have it memorized. Promise you’ll come to see me when things settle?”

If they ever settle. Your heart sinks with the thought that this mess will never stop; not until he’s in prison or one of you ends up dead.

“I will,” he kisses your forehead, and hands you an envelope from his pocket, “here honey, take this.”

“Ed, no. I can’t,” you argue, eyes widening as you feel the wad of cash inside, “Really, I’ll be okay. I’ve been planning this for a while.”

“It was Jean’s idea,” he smiles sadly, “she knew you’d get out someday and we both wanted you to have a cushion.”

“Ed,” your voice breaks and you start to cry again. Your head was pounding, your ribs screamed with every breath and you were getting more anxious as more time passed.

“Take it and use it,” he says, putting his hand in his pocket so you can’t hand it back, “hire a lawyer, get that dog you always wanted, take a nice vacation, whatever you want, honey. Besides, he can’t track cash like he can a card.”

That thought crossed your mind too before you finally nod. “Thank you,” you whisper, giving him a final hug and heading back to your former home.

•.•.•.•.•.•.��.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You step over the drips of your blood and avoid the dead flowers and broken glass, feeling nauseous from anxiety and the pain pulsing through your body when you pick up your discarded bag and right your suitcases.

Your lip still quirks in satisfaction when the wheels of your suitcase drag the sharp pieces of glass over the floor, scratching the hell out of the hardwood he loves.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Ed watches from his front door as you struggle to get your suitcases in the back, but you discreetly shake your head when he opens the door to help. Chad is going to take his anger out somewhere, and you don’t want to make Ed more of a target.

You suppress your groan as you lift the floorboard in the trunk to find your secret cell phone hidden by the spare tire and turn it on after plugging it in while you fasten your seatbelt.

After typing in the address into GPS, you take a deep breath and pull out of the driveway, waving goodbye to Ed and starting your new life.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A few weeks later (current day).

“Friday at 11,” you confirm, “I’ll be there, thank you again,” you say before hanging up with the recruiter.

You smile softly; things are looking up. You have an interview scheduled for a nursing position with a general practitioner at the Naval Base, you secured a nice apartment that’ll be ready to move into in a few weeks and Chad would be served with divorce papers any day now.

With the money you saved, the generous gift from the doctors you worked with at the ER, and the downright obscene amount from Ed and Jean, you didn’t need to rush into finding a job. So you had taken a few weeks to find an apartment and hit the beach while you healed; physically at least.

Emotionally though, you were struggling. Most nights you woke up soaked in a cold sweat, shivering in terror from your nightmares. Loud noises made you flinch. You were constantly having to remind yourself that it’s okay to go out and do what you want.

Dr. Akins checked in with you twice after letting her know you arrived. Ed texted or called almost daily; it was so nice to be able to talk to him freely.

You decide to walk a few blocks to the hole-in-the-wall restaurant you discovered on your first week here for dinner.

Taking a different way back, you come across a large, brown, and white dog tied outside a clothing shop.

The sign in the window above him reads, ‘Dog is for sale. Inquire within’.

His big, fluffy tail begins to wag when he realizes you’re approaching him and he lifts his head when you kneel, “Hi buddy.”

“Hi,” an older woman with a kind smile comes out when she sees you, “are you-“ she cuts off with a sneeze when she gets close.

“Bless you,” you smile.

“Thanks,” she sniffs, “I was trying to ask if you’re interested in him?”

“Oh,” you say, “I can’t…” you trail off as you realize there isn’t anything stopping you. The Airbnb listing said pets were welcome; same with your apartment. “Well…maybe?”

She laughs, sitting on the bench by the door, inviting you to sit beside her. “His name is Hank, he’s a 2-year-old, Great Pyrenees mix. He belonged to my daughter but…she can’t take care of him anymore; she checked herself into rehab,” she sighs sadly, “and will be for a while; she asked me to find him a good home since I’m horribly allergic and there’s too many kill shelters around here,” she answers before you can ask.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, petting his big head when he rests it on your knee, “he’s so sweet.”

“He is,” she confirms before sneezing again, “he listens well, I’ve never heard him bark and I think he’s house trained-I’ve had to keep him in the garage at my house or I can’t breathe-but he hasn’t had any accidents there. I guess he’s a little leery of men too, but she wasn’t hanging around the best crowd either. I took him to the vet-in my car which was a terrible idea, I still sneeze when I open the door,” she laughs, “but they gave him a micro-chip and updated his vaccines. He was given a clean bill of health, I have his records in the store.”

He looks up at you with those big brown eyes; staring into your soul while tugging at your heartstrings.

“I’ll take him,” you hear yourself saying as you pull out your wallet and pull out all the cash you have in your wallet; around $500. She begins to refuse but you insist, “Please. I know the vet wasn’t cheap, and your daughter will need help getting back on her feet.”

Tears fill her eyes but she eventually nods, “Thank you.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

It doesn’t take long at all for you to fall in love with Hank; his personality is as big as he is. He just had one accident the first night and hasn’t barked a single time.

“How do I look?” You ask him, spinning in front of the mirror as he watches you from his spot on your bed. Dressing up felt nice, even if it was just for a job interview.

You did your best to cover the healing yellow bruise under your eye, but it was still noticeable in certain light.

He hops off the bed and nudges your thigh with his head before looking up at you in the mirror.

“Thanks, I think so too,” you smile down at him. “I’ll be back in a little bit, you be a good boy.”

He’s asleep on the bed before you shut the door.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Hi, you must be Shae,” the pretty woman greeting smiles as she offers her hand. “I’m Reese, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” you reply.

“Please,” she gestures to the chairs across her desk as she sits, “have a seat.”

Your eyes squint when the sunlight catches your face as you sit before giving her your resume. “I also have letters of recommendation from my nursing instructor and a few of the doctors I’ve worked with,” your cheeks heat as you hand them over next.

Your stomach sinks as her gaze pauses on your concealed bruise before she scans the information given.

Your nerves settle as she asks questions and gives you different scenarios. Dr. Kerner is confident, witty and you get the impression she doesn’t take shit from anyone; which is needed when the majority of her patients are cocky men.

“Well, I’ve seen enough,” she smiles, “you can expect to from HR soon for the formal offer,” your heart soars and then sinks when her brow furrows slightly when she glances down again at her resume, “Oh, is this current?”

Your nerves come back full force and your hands twist nervously in your lap, “Yes, it’s current.”

“It’s okay,” she replies softly, picking up on your anxiety, “HR will ask why it's been 2 years since you worked last. What should I tell them?”

You feel yourself dissociate as you look out the window. “My husb-I mean, ex-husband…he didn’t want me to work.”

She nods, looking at your healing eye and piecing together where it came from. “Shae?”

You flinch slightly as you snap out of it, before meeting her eyes.

“I’m just going to tell them it was due to family reasons,” she says, watching as you sag in relief. “Are you safe though?”

“I am,” you reply, touching the slight discoloration under your eye, “I am now. He’s…a few hours away, and I have a dog now.”

“Okay,” she replies with a small smile, reaching for a pen and notepad. “Here’s my number if that changes okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, touched by her gesture. You had very few people in your corner, and they all lived hours away. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replies, rising to her feet. “Hope to see you again soon.”

“I hope so too,” you smile genuinely for the first time.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“HR will be in touch soon,” Dr. Kerner says as she escorts you from her office, smiling down the hall. “Have a good weekend.”

“Thanks, you too,” you reply, eyes following hers to two men approaching.

The blonde gives you a friendly smile before locking eyes with Dr. Kerner. While he’s attractive, it’s evident he only has eyes for her.

The darker-haired one with a mustache is downright hot. The way he gives you a quick, appreciative once over before flashing you a grin has you blushing like a virgin.

You quickly head outside, feeling an odd mixture of emotions; unnecessary guilt for looking at another man, excitement that someone so good-looking finds you attractive, relief that you can still feel attraction, and nervousness that you might/might not see him again if you get the job.

Once inside your car, you blast the AC to cool your heated cheeks as you make your way back to your temporary home.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A few days pass before receiving the call that you have the job and you agree to start the following Monday.

You hardly sleep the night before and arrive before nearly everyone.

“Ready for your first day?” Dr. Kerner smiles when she sees you at your desk.

“I am,” you answer, “I looked over your preferences while I waited. It all looks familiar so I shouldn’t have any problem getting caught up to speed.”

“I didn’t figure you would,” she replies, “let me give you a quick tour and we’ll get the day started.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

By lunch, you’re already getting the hang of things.

“I don’t know how I’ve survived this long without you,” Dr. Kerner smiles as she checks the time, “seriously, you’re doing a great job.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, flushing as you look down at your shoes, so unused to compliments.

“You’re welcome,” she replies, “I usually have lunch in here with Jake, my boyfriend, and Rooster, an old friend of mine. They’re both naval aviators.”

“Rooster?” You ask, looking up confused.

“Ah, sorry, that’s his callsign,” she laughs, “his real name is Bradley; you can call him either. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve gotta let my dog out. I haven’t found anyone to walk him yet; I’m pretty sure he’d be fine all day but I’m staying at an Airbnb until my apartment is ready in a few weeks so I don’t want to risk any accidents,” you reply. It’s the truth, but you’re still unsure and uneasy about a lot of things.

“Understandable,” she replies, “the offer stands if and when you want to.”

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile of your own.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Some friends of mine are having a get-together for the 4th at their house on the beach,” Dr. Kerner says at the end of the first day, “you’re more than welcome to come if you’d like.”

“You don’t have to answer right now,” she continues when you clam up, “and there’s no pressure, either. You can say no.”

The rising tension inside you falls when she gives you a choice.

“I’ll think about it,” you answer truthfully, “if that’s okay?”

“Of course. There’s no rush; Penny will be plenty of food and drinks either way,” she gives you a reassuring smile as she picks up her keys. “Have a good night, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks,” you smile back, “you too.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>���<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The next few weeks pass quickly and June turns to July.

You were still in the rental and hadn’t had lunch with Dr. Kerner yet, but you could feel yourself slowly opening up to her.

“See ya after lunch,” she calls as you pick up your keys to head out, “tell Hank I said hi.”

“I will,” you laugh, “be back in a bit.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Something is off when you unlock the door to the rental.

Hank, who’s normally asleep on the bed, is restlessly pacing.

“What’s up, buddy?” You ask, crouching to kiss him.

He’s distracted though, aggressively sniffing the welcome mat.

“Gotta go potty?” You ask, grabbing his leash, “Let’s go.”

He sits down right beside you when you get to the grass, sniffing the air and looking around.

“C’mon bud, go potty,” you coax.

He eventually takes a few steps to do his business but comes right back when he’s done.

“I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Be a good boy,” you murmur as you close the door while he stands there and watches, again so unlike him.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Hey,” Dr. Kerner says when you come back from lunch, looking down at her phone, “the last patient canceled, so we’ll be done early today. How was Hank?”

“Acting a little weird, but good,” you reply, brow furrowed, “he’s usually asleep when I get home, but he was up and pacing by the door. I thought he had to go potty really bad but he didn’t go without some coaxing. Who knows, probably just heard a squirrel or something.”

“Probably,” she agrees, her tone giving away that it doesn’t sit right with her.

It doesn’t sit right with you either.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

After saying goodbye to Dr. Kerner, you head home a few hours later.

Hank is again, or still, by the door.

You order food to be delivered while he eats his, sitting down on the couch with a beer while you wait.

You mull it over in your head before pulling your phone out to compose a text.

Shae: Hey Dr. Kerner, I’ve thought it over. I’d be happy to join you tomorrow if the offer still stands.

But there’s a knock at the door before you send it.

You rise to your feet, Hank gets up too, surprising you as he growls in your presence for the first time.

“It’s okay, just the delivery driver,” you coo before calling, “just a minute,” as you grab some cash for a tip.

“Wow, that was fast-“ you start to say as you open the door, but your head whips to the side. You hear the sharp slap to your cheek and eye before the pain can register.

The force of his backhand knocks you back a step and Chad follows you, gripping your arm so tightly you cry out in pain. He’s full of rage, his breath reeks of bourbon as spits in your face, “You think you can divorce me?! After everything I’ve done for-FUCK!”

Chad screams when Hank latches onto his clothed arm with a low growl. The force of his lunge pushes Chad back into the doorframe but you grab Hank’s collar to haul him off before he sinks his teeth into something more vital.

“Leave,” you say, voice shaking and barely audible over Hank’s snarls, “now.”

“This isn’t over,” he says, holding his arm as he takes taking a step back, “and that dog is dead.”

You slam the door closed behind him, locking it before falling to the floor with a sob.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Hank lays down beside you, setting his head in your lap as he senses your distress. “You’re such a good boy,” you whisper, stroking his soft fur.

But he starts to growl again a few minutes later when a loud knock startles you both.

“San Diego PD, open up.”

You hold Hank’s collar as you crack the door to verify. “Just a minute, I’m going to put my dog in the bedroom; he’s a little worked up.”

The host of the AirBnb shows up shortly after, holding the bag of your forgotten food.

Adrenaline wearing off, your face begins to throb in time with his fingerprints on your arm as you explain what happened to the officers. You feel numb as they take pictures of your injuries, but you don’t hold much hope when the officers say they’ll find him.

The Airbnb host gives you more bad news before leaving too.

You try to compose yourself as you start to pack but hopelessness of the situation begins to set in, and you feel suddenly feel completely overwhelmed. Your thoughts begin to race before you pick up the phone; feeling as if you have no other choice but to turn to the only person that might help.

Your heart races as the line rings.

“Shae?” she answers, “what’s up?”

There’s faint music in the background.

“Hi Dr. Kerner,” you say, trying to sound calm, “I’m so sorry to bother you.”

“Please, call me Reese,” she reminds you gently, “you’re not bothering me. Is everything okay?”

“No,” your voice breaks, “it’s not. Chad…my ex, he found me.”

“Where are you? Is he there now?” She asks, anxious now.

“No, he took off when Hank bit him,” you sniff, zipping one of your packed suitcases closed, “I’m still at the Airbnb, packing my stuff.”

“Okay,” she sighs, her relief evident until your last words sink in, “Okay. Packing your-wait, why are you packing?”

“The police came a few minutes after he left; one of the units heard the commotion. The unit owner came while I was giving my statement,” You answer, walking down the short hallway to the living room, “I guess the other tenants complained to him and are scared-understandably so-but said I needed to be out…tonight.”

“Oh Shae,” she says, “I’m so sorry. Let me come help you?”

“Okay.” Both of you are surprised when you agree.

“I’m at the Hard Deck-which is a bar-with Jake and Bradley. Oh shoot, I forgot we rode together. Hang one sec,” she pauses, “I’ll order an Uber.”

“They can come too,” you say, more anxiety setting in as you look at the clock, “if they want to, I mean. I…I think I need all the help I can get. I’ve got to be out in about an hour.”

“Okay,” she says, murmuring something before coming back on the line, “they’re happy to help, Shae. Text me the address, we’re getting in the truck now.”

“I will, oh…” you cringe when you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror above the couch. Your right eye is bloodshot from the trauma, below on your cheek is puffy and still red, and his fingerprints already purpling your arm. It’s nothing compared to last time, but it’s still startling, “and Reese? I should warn you, I look…rough.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: Well…what do you guys think? Did everything make sense (especially for those who haven’t read All of Me).

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs! Seriously, feedback helps me more than you know.

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[readychilledwine]

Home to Me

Summary - After the death of Beron, Lucien is finally free to move to the Day Court, and he could not be more ecstatic to have you and Elain by his side

Warnings - moving anxiety, Helion being the best father in law, fluff

Prompt - Day 4 - Adventure

A/n - Happy @polyacotarweek! I was really excited to play with Elucien and a Spring Court reader. Something about them as a trouple with another flower girl makes my heart skip.

💕Poly+ACOTAR Week Masterlist💕

Freedom was a concept Lucien so rarely knew. From living under his father's thumb to Tamlin's command to Rhysand's control, it had always felt like a goal, some far-off dream he would never reach.

Until he met Elain, of course. Elain, as difficult as chasing her was, quickly became his light. He had made her chase him in return for the years of waiting, and she had fought tooth and nail for him. He had never met someone with so much love to give, and who wished to give it so freely.

Meeting you just made sense due to that. Elain had met you in Spring as they were helping Tamlin with rebuilds where you personally were in charge of the garden overhauls due to your powers. He would never forget the way Elain ran back into the house, sliding down the wall as she held her heart, and Briar rushed to her as she whispered "Mate," over and over again.

Lucien went to where she had been and stopped. Your kind was rare, but there you were, iridescent wings tucked on your back, shifting yourself to a smaller size to move pollen from flower to flower. “Ah, y/n,” Tamlin had admired you as Lucien did. “She will be fine with all of this. They are all used to marrying in pairs.”

Courting you had been the easiest thing both of them had ever done. Lucien had joked you were a simple female. You were wooed by shiny things, by chocolates left at your door late at night, by long walks through your garden. Elain adored you first, but Lucien fell in love the hardest. You were so kind, so gentle. He could hardly imagine life without you or Elain.

Now, 10 years later, that life could openly be a reality. He put the last of your boxes into the portal Helion had opened from your home in Spring to the home you three would share in Day, clapping his hands together as it closed.

Elain was already there, unpacking and decorating the home. She wanted it to feel as safe and loving as possible for you, seeing as you had never once left the Spring Court borders in your 300 years of life.

You were the most nervous of the 3, moving to Day was a lot to ask of you, but with Beron finally gone, Lucien was free to be with his dad, to be home, and you and Elain both wanted to give him this chance. He deserved it. He had earned it.

He found you in your garden, overlooking centuries of hard work, “Blossom, are you ready to go?” His heart almost sank as you quickly wiped your cheeks before turning.

“Of course!” The lie was so obvious it was almost insulting as he walked to you and took your upper arms in his large hands.

“You're frightened?” You could only nod. “Tamlin promised to care for the home. You will be back here every Autumn and Winter along with the honeybees and butterflies. Your garden will be fine, my love.”

“It's not the garden. This whole thing is just scary.” You both paused as the sound of winnowing came followed by Elain's soft footsteps.

“Tulip?” She ran the distance to you, tugging you into her while being mindful of your delicate wings. “My heart, what's wrong?”

Lucien answered for you, pulling you both to him. “She's a little scared of the move.”

Elain hummed, kissing away the tear that fell on to your cheek. “I can't imagine how hard it is, leaving behind all you've ever known by choice. You are so brave for our happiness. Your fear is so justified, y/n. I can understand that part, trust me.”

“If you want to stay,” Lucien's throat tightened at the thought. “We will make this work. We can-”

“No,” you sighed, heavily leaning into them. “I want to be with you. Both of you. This is just a whole new experience and a new world and a new high lord.”

“If I am what you are worried about, I am pleased to inform you there is nothing to be afraid of.”

Lucien looked down at you two, metal eye whirling as the other rolled. “Dad, we're having a moment here.”

“And I am joining. Come here, sweet pixie.” Lucien And Elain released you, allowing you to move to the Lord of Day. “I know your kind was hunted outside of this court, but I promise you, you and those precious wings will be safe in my home.”

That slow realization hit Elain and Lucien like bricks. They were asking you to leave Spring, a place your kind had been allowed to make a haven, and you had selflessly agreed. “Your new home is within the walls of my palace. No guards or guests will be able to get to you without my approval, and you will have your own guards approved by Lucien and Elain. You will be safe to fly and pollinate all you wish. My gardens could use that.” Helion kissed your hand where the rose gold and pink diamond ring sat. “Give Day a chance. Let it be your first big adventure.”

You nodded at him, letting your father in law take your hand. “My butterflies and bees are already there?”

“They are.”

"And they are happy?"

"They are dining on the most exotic pollen and nectars they have ever had. They were very excited about the move." Helion offered you a soft smile as Lucien and Elain both tugged the bond.

You turned to them, taking one last moment to memorize them in the archway of Wisteria and Roses. “Alright. I'm ready.”

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Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist:

@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566