#and it can feel pretty intense and difficult in the moment sometimes

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia

Why did Gary growl and cover Efnisien's face/mouth when he said the safeword? Was he angry and trying to stop Efnisien from saying it so he could continue? If yes how did he manage to pull himself back from the brink of doing something unforgivable?

I think Gary was so uncoordinated in that moment, he wasn't thinking 'I need to shut you up' but there was definitely an instinct of: 'How dare someone tell me to stop.'

There was a visceral war with himself when he growls vs. when he places his hand on Efnisien's face, almost like he's trying to feel his breathing and his voice. It's a very quick motion, and while Efnisien assumes it's to shut him up, I actually think Gary was literally very out of it in that moment and was kind of bracing himself to even understand what happened.

Like, this is a guy who didn't respond to a lot of basic language and sentences for three days, or when he did, mostly could only do so in basic sentences or even single words. So while the peak alpha grokked the 'how dare you' pause, I think it was like a 'wait is an alpha trying to stop me from taking what is mine' level of confusion. He places his hands on Efnisien's face, almost like he's trying to find where the words came from, in my mind. Like someone who is blind who is trying to find a fan switch in a new place. They don't quite know where it is, but they know it's important in hot weather.

He then does hear more of Efnisien's voice (in the form of a distressed shriek) and immediately stops.

I really don't think this is as clean as 'he was fully aware, heard something he didn't want to hear, and made a choice to make sure Efnisien couldn't safeword again.' I don't even think he knew at the time what he heard, or how to understand it, only that he heard it and that he had to stop.

If yes how did he manage to pull himself back from the brink of doing something unforgivable?

Tbh Gary has the safeword to literally stop himself from doing the unforgiveable. And he does it with an immense amount of willpower that almost no human will ever really comprehend. Dude was barely even conscious at the time. Just like Efnisien spent many hours in a heavily dissociated receptive headspace, Gary does the same but from a more dominating peak alpha side. Literally just ruled by hormones in a very primitive way.

I'd say he's one of the only peak alphas in the world who can actually listen to a safeword at all in that state. I don't even think Temsen could.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 34: The Whole Truth

Summary: In life, we will be confronted with difficult choices. Sometimes you won't know you've made the wrong choice until it's too late

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 12,582 words

Warnings: Dead dove: do not eat, Angst, graphic violence and torture, mentions of predatory behavior towards a minor, Phillip Graves is a major creep, lots blood and injuries, kidnapping and its aftermath, hostage situations, anxiety and panic attacks, language, very explicitly described torture, ‘mega gets hit a lot, choking, biting, ‘mega gets stabbed with an ice pick, author can’t write COD missions, vomiting, lots of heavy emotions, detailed descriptions of pain, guns, background character dies on screen, descriptions of guilt and grief, lots of POV changes, some descriptive language of gore and blood at the end, rehashing of ‘mega’s injuries from the last chapter, a lot of angst and very heavy content, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe

A/N: This chapter deals with some pretty heavy content. Please, please, please read and heed the warnings. I have included content warnings for the more graphic parts before they happen, so if you don't want to read those, you can skip ahead to the next part. I suggest taking breaks if you need to, read it in installments if necessary. And I cannot stress it enough, please heed the warnings.

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“Hi darlin’.” His grin widens like he’s happy to see you. “Been a long time.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, your brain still sluggish. You feel sick as you try to process, try to figure out why and how. You try to move your arms again, but your wrists are stuck, hands burning as you pull. You desperately want them free, desperately need them free. 

“Easy,” Phil says, putting his hands on yours, pushing them flat against the arms of the chair. They’re warm and calloused, the same hand that had been on your face a few moments ago. “You’re gonna hurt yourself. More than you already have been.” He lifts your left leg, making you groan quietly as a deep ache throbs down to your foot and up to your hip. 

Running. A gunshot. Pain.

“He had strict orders not to harm you.” Phil says, adjusting the bandage wrapped around your calf. “Don’t worry. We got you all fixed up.” He sets your leg back down gingerly, his touch lingering for a moment before he looks back up at you. 

“Why?” You croak out, trying to make sense of what happened. 

Corporal McKinney broke into the barracks and chased you into the woods. He shot you and drugged you and now you’re here, restrained in a chair staring at a man you haven’t seen for years. A man who was once your dad’s best friend. 

“A lot has happened since we saw each other last.” He says, pushing himself to stand. “I left the Marines after a few years, formed my own group of military contractors. Invited your dad to join, but you know how he is. All honor and duty and serving the country. Of course, you haven’t seen him in quite a while, have you?” 

You stare up at him, starting to get scared. You never liked Phil. There was always something about him that put you off. He always stared too long, always sat too close to you. He always greeted you with a hug that lasted too long, squeezing you too tightly against him. He was sweet on you in a way he wasn’t with anyone else. He could be intense, brash and almost downright rude sometimes. He was a firm believer in traditional packs too, even if he never spoke about his own pack, his own omega. He had to have one, if he was as dedicated as he said. 

He was far too much like your father. 

Phil was always kinder to you, though. Softer. Not quite as callous and bellicose as your father in public. He was polite, always happy to lend a hand, always glad to roughhouse with your brothers to get their energy out. You saw the way your mother looked at him though. Perhaps her apprehension bled into you, those dormant omega instincts picking up on something she was projecting. 

He made you uncomfortable, and she knew it. 

What could an omega do, though, in a world where they don’t have opinions, they can’t argue, they can’t disagree. Your mother never said anything because in the world your family existed in, the world Phil existed in, she couldn’t. 

“He was so angry when he called.” Phil continues, staring down at you. “Ranting and raving about how his oldest daughter betrayed him by presenting as an omega. He couldn’t stand having such a useless child in his perfect pack.” You flinch at his words, even though you heard your father spew those very words after your presentation firsthand. 

“He called you?” You ask, the pieces starting to come together as your brain finally snaps fully into awareness. You knew he called someone, but you hadn’t thought it would ever be Phil. 

“Of course.” Phil chuckles. “We were good friends, pals, buddies. He knew I could help him.” A shiver runs down your spine. You know what he’s going to say next. “So I did. I have some contacts in some high places, people who owe me favors. So I made some calls, pulled some strings, got you into FIOT immediately, with some strings attached of course.” He leans down so you’re almost face to face. “I wanted you. They put a note in your file. You wouldn’t be placed in the registry when you were old enough, you would go to me and my pack.” 

Bile churns in your stomach as you process his words. It all makes sense now. The stares, the hugs, the closeness with your father, your rapid enrollment in an institute that can take weeks to process applications. It was all so you could be his. Something he’s wanted from early on. 

“You would have been mine,” He pushes himself up straight again, starting to pace back and forth in front of you. “If the fucking CIA hadn’t gotten involved!” You flinch as his voice raises, the frustration starting to darken his scent. “They froze your file, made the claim null and void. All for what, their little initiative that never really existed in the first place?” He huffs out a laugh, a smirk tilting his lips. “Small world, though. Who knew we’d be seeing each other again after so long.” 

He steps closer, looking down at you. You hold his gaze, suddenly feeling afraid. Even though you know him, even though you spent a good part of your childhood around him, you’re afraid of him right now. Your mind starts to revert back, the urge to lower your eyes, break eye contact like you’re supposed to flashing through your mind. 

Don’t stare alphas in the eyes. They’ll take that as a challenge. It’s not your job to challenge them. Your job is to be subservient. 

You would have been subservient to him if the CIA hadn’t gotten involved. You would have been under his control, bowing to him and his will. You’d have pups by now, at least one. He’d always talked about having a big pack with lots of pups someday, always glancing at you when he said it. 

You’re going to vomit all over him. 

It’s not just the truth that scares you, though. You’re being held captive here. That thought has registered in your mind now, the reality settling in as you get over the shock of the last few minutes. Corporal McKinney kidnapped you from base, and now you’re restrained in a chair surrounded by unknown alphas. Phil isn’t going to help you, take pity on you. He’s not here to be nice, to have a little chat and catch up on life.

That possibly ended as soon as he was denied what he wanted. 

His hand cups your chin, holding your face up as he looks down at you. His thumb is rough as it strokes your jaw, a tickling feeling starting in the back of your mind again. There’s an almost bittersweet look in his eyes as he holds your gaze. You refuse to lower it, refuse to give him that satisfaction. “You’ve grown up a lot.” He says, his hand sliding down your neck to the collar of your shirt. “You always were cute, though. I knew early on you were going to be an omega. You were far too...calm and compliant compared to your brothers. Always so polite and eager to please. You can tell if you pay attention, you know. Those dormant instincts start to show themselves long before presentation.” 

His hand pulls your collar to the side, revealing your mark. His eyes harden as he stares at it, his lips turning down into a frown. A shiver runs down your spine as the darkness in his scent intensifies. He’s not holding you hostage just to tell you about what could have been, what direction your life might have taken. He’s here for a reason, and you know your pack is involved. Something has happened, something behind the scenes, something John was looking into. 

“What’s going on?” You ask as he releases your collar, taking a step back. 

“Well, you’re being held hostage.” He says, like it isn’t already obvious. “You’re...shall we say...leverage to ensure your pack follows orders.” 

You blink at him. You haven’t heard from or spoken to your pack in weeks. You should be relieved that they’re apparently still alive, but what if you had been right and they don’t want you anymore? Why would they take you if your pack has abandoned you? Or did they take you to ensure they wouldn’t...

“Laswell stuck her nose somewhere it shouldn’t have been.” Phil says, crossing his arms. “It’s only so long before your pack finds out. Let’s just say...they’re not going to be happy about it. So, to ensure they don’t do something impulsive and reckless as they are known to do, you’re going to play hostage.” 

You gulp as you stare up at him, suddenly feeling very afraid. Your scent spikes in the air, clouding it with the bitter scent of anxiety. It was the plan all along. You knew it even if you hadn’t been told outright. Deep down you’ve always known it wasn’t about strengthening packs. It wasn’t about studying how an omega would increase or decrease the efficiency of military packs. With the events of the last few months, the idea had started to form in your mind. You know you weren’t alone in those thoughts. John and Simon were digging into the cameras for a reason. They were put up for a reason. 

It was always about control.

That was the point of the initiative. That was why they put cameras up, that was why General Shepherd was so invested in the state of your pack and if you had been mated. He needed to ensure you were close enough to them so if something happened that wasn’t supposed to, you could be used against them. 

You’re nothing more than leverage. 

Your scent spikes in the air, clouding the room as reality sinks into you. Something happened that caused this. Something called your pack away to isolate you, to leave you vulnerable. They wanted you alone as a contingency. 

Something did happen. 

Now you’re here, being held captive by a man you used to know, a man who could have been your alpha had things not played out the way they did. The thought has your stomach churning. How far will they go? How far will Phil take things? Could he be merciful because of your history? Or will his ruined plan make him more ruthless? 

You’ll be punished for something you can’t control. 

Phil makes a soft sound as he looks at you, shaking with fear in the chair. “Don’t be scared. As long as your pack does as they’re told, I won’t have to hurt you.” He turns the light back to face you, nearly blinding you. “Now, smile for the camera.” 

They’re safe. 

It had been close. A rough position to be in, but they managed it. He never doubted them and their abilities, but four against nearly fifty with no backup were not good odds. He’s been in tighter places before, and while he had his doubts, he is grateful Johnny and Simon were sent in when they were. Even if it was a bit suspicious.

“All accounted for.” John says as he sinks down onto one of the jump seats next to Kyle. 

They’re all battered and bruised from their final fight. He’s ready to get home, ready to get back to you. From the sound of it, things were not going well, according to Johnny and Simon. He has a lot to make up for, a lot of apologies to make. 

“Fucking Russian PMCs.” He says, speaking to Kate over the comms. “It’s not a coincidence Kate.” 

Kate lets out a sigh that crackles through the comm. “No, it’s not. My team and I came across some information while we were digging into the cameras.” 

“What information?” He asks slowly and carefully. He doesn’t like being kept in the dark, especially when it comes to his pack. Especially when it comes to you. 

“Not just information on the initiative, but information on General Shepherd.” 

“What information?” He asks again, slower this time as Johnny and Simon move in closer. 

“Shepherd was the one that sold those weapons to AQ and the Russians.” 

John looks at the other three members of his team. He knew something was wrong, something was off about the way Shepherd had acted while informing them about this mission. “He wanted those missiles found and destroyed so he could cover his own ass.” He says, his stomach starting to twist. He doesn’t like the way this is going. 

“But we found out the truth before you could find all the missiles.” Kate continues. “He sent you on a wild goose chase to give himself a chance to escape.” 

John’s hand tightens into a fist. “Where is he now?” 

“He’s gone dark. Totally off radar.” 

John pushes himself up to stand, the adrenaline pumping again. “I’m going to find that bastard-” 

“John.” Kate says, cutting him off. “There’s something else.” 

The twisting in his stomach intensifies. There’s a bad feeling tickling in the back of his mind. He doesn’t want to entertain the dark thoughts that are brewing. “What?” 

“They took your omega.” 

His stomach clenches, his breath catching in his lungs. The other three shift on their feet, all of them stepping closer. The scent in the plane thickens, anger and confusion mixing into a toxic cocktail. He hopes he heard that wrong, that there was some kind of interference in the connection and his brain made up the words he missed. “Repeat that.” 

“They took your omega.” Kate says again.

He lets out a long breath, his muscles tensing. He’s had a bad feeling tickling in the back of his mind for the last few days. Something was wrong, something was off. He should have known it was all a ruse. Why would AQ and the Russians store a missile in any of the places they had been sent to in the last week? It hadn’t made sense, and he had wanted to voice his doubts, but the consequences of a missile being launched because they decided not to look in one place was greater than his own perceived doubts. 

They had been right though. 

Of course it had all been a plan. Of course there had been something fishy about it. He’s hardly ever wrong. He’s been praised on his instincts on the field and off. He should have known. Pulling Simon and Johnny when they did should have been enough evidence, even if they had been needed in the end. 

“You’re positive?” He knows she is. There’s no mistaking something like that, there’s no doubting it. 

“There’s a video.” Kate says, John’s stomach dropping. “I’m sending it to you now.” 

John pulls out his phone, his fingers white as he holds it up. He’s angry, beyond angry. If they’ve laid a hand on you...if you’ve been hurt because of his own failings, his own inability to see the truth...

He clicks on the video when it comes in, a familiar face popping up on screen. “Hi boys. Been a while.” 

“Fucking Graves.” Johnny growls, his hands closing into fists in anger. 

“I have a little something of yours I think you might be interested in.” He turns the camera around, your face popping up on screen. You’re restrained in a chair, wrists red from the zip ties, but there’s a glare on your face, looking as mean and threatening as you can. There’s a bruise on your cheek and what looks like a healing cut on your lip. Someone hit you. 

“Smile for the camera.” Graves says, a bit too cheerfully. 

You don’t smile, your glare sharpening as the camera gets closer to your face. There’s still fight left in you. Whatever has happened hasn’t been too bad. Yet. 

“Let’s make this simple.” Graves says. “You stay away from Shepherd, and I won’t have to hurt this pretty little face. She is pretty, isn’t she?” 

You shift in the chair, your leg lifting before you kick outward. 

“Ow, you little bitch.” The camera jostles for a moment before it’s straightened back up, a hand shooting out to wrap around your throat. There’s no sign of any struggle, the glare still prominent on your face. “Feisty thing. Gotta keep up with those wild boys somehow.” 

The hand tilts your face just slightly, showing the mark on your neck. It is you, not that John doubted that from the beginning. It may have been almost two months, but he wouldn’t forget your face that easily. 

“Like I said,” Graves continues. “Follow your orders and she’ll be released unharmed.” 

The screen goes dark and John resists the urge to throw his phone. He shoves it back into his pocket, turning towards the wall of the plane. He throws his fist against the metal as hard as he can. It hurts, but he can barely feel it over the rage burning hot in him. 

“Fucking Shepherd!” He shouts, rearing back to throw his hand against the wall again.

Graves has his omega. Graves has his omega and now you’re being used as leverage. They’re all being played like puppets. 

A hand catches his fist before he can punch the wall again, easing him back. “Easy.” Kyle says, trying to soothe him as best he can. “We have proof of life, we know that she’s alright for now.” 

“For now.” He growls, looking around at the members of his team. “But for how long?” 

“They knew we’d go after Shepherd as soon as we learned the truth.” Simon says. “This has been in the plans for a long time.”

“They’re trying to get us to make a choice. Focus on getting our omega back while letting Shepherd escape, or go after Shepherd and let our omega be tortured.” Kyle says. 

“Those fuckin’ wankstains.” Johnny says, shifting on his feet. He’s angry, the bitter scent filling the enclosed area of the plane. They’re all angry, angry at those responsible, and angry at themselves for falling for it. “They were usin’ us the whole time.” 

John lets out a long breath. It’s a hard decision to make. Go after Shepherd and cut the head off the snake, or go after you and let the person orchestrating all of this escape. Graves won’t stop, even if they do manage to take out Shepherd. He has his orders, and he will follow them, with or without Shepherd pulling the strings.

There might be a second contingency. They kill Shepherd, you die too. 

No matter what, you won’t be safe. If they go after you, Shepherd escapes and if they try to hunt him down later, he’ll use you again, or worse. They don’t have to kill Shepherd, though. They have proof he’s a traitor. He can be brought to justice if he’s caught. Death is too gentle of a punishment for what he’s done. He deserves to rot in prison for the rest of his life. 

They have to make sacrifices for the good of the world. 

“We’re going after Shepherd.” He says, taking a deep breath. “None of us will be safe if we don’t.” 

“That’s dangerous, John.” Kate says. “We don’t know how far Shepherd or Graves will take this. You know how Graves is. He may not be able to be stopped, even if Shepherd tells him to.” 

He takes a second to breathe. His pack is silent, all three of them staring at him, waiting for him to make this decision. He is pack alpha, he is their Captain. They do what he tells them to do, follow his orders no matter what. Kate is right, this is a risk, but sacrifices have to be made. Hands have to be dirtied to keep the world clean. 

He just hopes you’ll forgive him. 

“We’re going after Shepherd.” John says definitely. 

“This is a bad idea, John.” Kate warns him. 

“It’s the only option we have. They’re trying to draw us away. It’s a risk we have to take.” He can see the apprehension on his packmate’s faces. They’re all feeling it, the drive to go after their omega, but deep down he is right. They’ll never be safe until Shepherd is taken care of. Going after Graves only removes one small piece of the puzzle. The job always comes first. 

“Get us locations, places he might try to dig in and hide.” He says, heading towards the cockpit. “We’ll find this arsehole and kill him ourselves. 

***

Kate lets out a sigh as the comms close off. It’s a mistake. She knows it is. The guilt is eating her alive. She fell for this, she brought you into this, and now you might get hurt because of it. How she didn’t see the reality has shame burning through her. They were all blind, all led astray, all fooled by the red herring. 

There was never an initiative. It was never about strengthening packs. It was always about control. They wanted a way to control packs. Shepherd knew if the secret ever came out, there would be no stopping the consequences. Legal or illegal, retribution would come for him if the truth was revealed. 

This was his way of stopping it. 

That's why the 141 were the guinea pigs. 

They are the most dangerous threat to Shepherd, and he handed them a way to control them under the guise of strengthening packs, experimenting on how their dynamics and efficiency would shift with an omega added in. Even worse, they all fell for it. 

John is making a mistake. Graves won’t stop so long as Shepherd knows they’re coming after him. The last thing she wants is for you to get hurt because of their decisions, their mistakes. Shepherd won’t order Graves to kill you. That’s too much of a risk. It would give the 141 nothing to lose, and that would put them at their most dangerous. 

Will Graves listen to that order? 

She can send out a team to get eyes on Graves, find his position at least. That way, if things do take a turn, she’ll at least have a direction to point them in. 

They were all too trusting and ignorant. You’re innocent in all of this. 

It’s her fault. 

They’re going to need help. 

Christine can’t sit still anymore. She can't take it. It’s been almost eighteen hours since your disappearance and there’s been nothing. No word, no news. She knows you’re alive. Kate had confirmed that, but that hasn’t eased the burning questions eating away at her mind. What is your current state? Who took you and why? Where is your pack and are they even aware of what’s happening? 

She’s been sitting and twirling her thumbs. She can’t bring herself to do any paperwork, any research. What is there to do besides sit and worry? She doesn’t have a patient to take care of because she lost the one she was supposed to watch. 

She huffs out a breath, pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing Kate. If Kate won’t call, she’ll call herself. Kate’s probably busy though, so Christine can’t blame her too much for not calling. She’s probably so far from the front of Kate’s mind right now. 

The phone rings twice before Kate answers, sounding tired and disheveled, just as much as Christine feels. 

“Laswell.”

“Kate, I need to be there.” She doesn't hold back, doesn’t try to make small talk. There’s no time for it. She knows how Kate is doing, and it’s not great. 

“Christine, I don’t know if I can take that risk.” She says. 

“I need to be there. I can't take sitting around here anymore, and when you find her, she’s going to need someone she knows there, someone that knows how to take care of her.” Christine lets out a breath, the relief of getting her thoughts out taking some of the weight off her shoulders. 

Kate sighs, but she has to know Christine is right. She’s not sure what state you’re in, and depending on how bad it is, and where your pack is, you’re going to need her. Even if you think she was behind this. “I’ll have a plane ready to go in thirty minutes.” 

“Thank you, Kate.” She says, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Don’t miss the flight.” 

Christine hangs up, gathering a couple things from her office before closing and locking her door. She nearly runs to her barracks, packing a bag quickly. She’s not sure what to bring, or how long this will take. She’s not even sure exactly where she’s going. 

She hurries to the airfield, phone in hand. She’s not sure where the plane is or which one she’s taking. She’s just relieved Kate is doing this for her. 

Her phone buzzes as she reaches the tarmac, making her puse. She lets out an annoyed sigh before answering the call. 

“Of course you have to call at the worst possible moment.” She says. 

“I’ve always had the worst timing.” Alex’s voice comes through the speaker, and she can almost hear the smile on his face. 

“I can’t talk long. I’m about to board a plane.” She says. 

“I know. We’ll pick you up on the tarmac.” 

She blinks in surprise. It’s been years since she’s seen her brother, months since she’s spoken with him. Ever since he retired from Delta Force, his regular calls have been happening less and less, and they’ve reached near radio silence over the last couple years. Now he’s involved in this too? 

“Kate called in a favor.” He continues, and that’s all she needs to know. “We’ll see you in a few hours.” 

“Yeah.” She says, tears brimming in her eyes as she smiles. Despite everything, she’s glad she gets to see her brother again. Glad she has some support in this. Your pack will be mad. They’ll blame her. She’s not afraid of them, but she knows Alex will stand behind her no

**Content Warning: light torture, ‘mega gets punched, further injury to previous injuries, panic attack**

Your hands are starting to go numb. The constant attempts to free yourself from the zip ties isn’t helping, but you’re beginning to get twitchy. Your omega is scratching at the back of your mind, begging to be free, but you know you won’t survive it. The room is full of armed mercenaries, and you’re sure if you tried to take out Phil first, you’d be pumped full of bullets before you could even do any damage. 

He’s leaning against the wall far too casually, staring at the phone he’d used to record the first video of you. His explanation had been simple. Your pack stops going after General Shepherd, you don’t get hurt. The longer they chase Shepherd, the more Phil gets to torture you until they decide your life is worth more than Shepherd’s. 

Will they choose you over Shepherd? What if they’ve already decided to abandon you? What if your fears were right and they’ve given up, and that’s why they were gone so long? They won’t care what happens to you, if they have written you off as a burden, as a loss. They’ll let Phil torture you to death and they won’t even blink an eye. You’ll just be another casualty. 

It makes your stomach hurt, the idea of your pack letting you die. Even the idea of someone who had once been a friend of your family being so cold towards you has nausea bubbling in your belly. He doesn’t care. His only worry is money, not the past. He doesn’t care. He’ll do the bidding of whoever offers the highest price. 

He lets out a sigh, pocketing his phone as he pushes himself off of the wall. “Looks like your boys don’t follow orders well.” He bends down, putting his hands on his knees so he’s face to face with you. “They’ve decided to leave you here with me. Looks like Shepherd was wrong. They don’t really care about you as much as everyone thought they did. Makes me sad, them abandoning you so easily.” 

You try to ignore his words, try to convince yourself he’s doing it on purpose, trying to mentally break you. Yet you can’t deny those words play exactly into your doubts, your fears. Have they really left you here, choosing Shepherd over you? Would they decide to do that? How easy had that decision been made?  

Tears blur your vision as you stare up at Phil, your eyes burning as you try to put on the bravest face you can. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to you, playing into your fears. 

“Unfortunately, that means I have to hurt you.” He stands up straight, staring down at you for a moment before pulling his fist back, hitting you across the face. 

You see stars for a moment, your head snapping to the side. The left side of your face is numb, the taste of metal flooding over your tongue. You’re bleeding, blood pooling in your mouth. A hand grips your chin, pulling you back so you’re sitting up straight in the chair. You stare up at Phil, the fear fading away to anger as you glare up at him. Your face is throbbing, and you know it’s going to swell and bruise later, more than it already has thanks to Corporal McKinney. 

Traitorous bastard. 

They all are. 

“I do feel bad for hurting that pretty face.” He says, stroking your jaw with his thumb. 

The movement is impulsive, the anger becoming too much. You spit the blood in your mouth in his face, the droplets splattering across his skin. He turns his head away for a moment, bringing his other hand up to wipe at the blood. 

“That wasn’t very nice.” He says, looking down at you. 

“Fuck you, you fucking creep!” You yell, kicking at him with your bad leg. 

He releases your face, catching your leg easily. He pushes his thumb against the bullet wound, all the fight leaving you as pain tears through your body. You let out a scream, trying to pull your leg away but he won’t let you. He holds his thumb there as you scream, the tears streaming down your face. 

“Okay, okay please! Please stop!” You beg, the pain radiating up into your hip and side. You can’t take it anymore, your brain starting to go fuzzy as you hyperventilate. 

He releases your leg, his hand wrapping around your throat to lift your face. The tears are streaming down your cheeks, mixing with the blood from the cut on your cheek. There’s no sympathy, not even regret in his eyes as he stares down at you. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, but if you can’t behave, I’ll have to do just that.” He releases you as you continue to hyperventilate, your eyes starting to glaze. You’re distressing. Will Phil help you? Will he do what he has to do to keep you alive? If you die, there won’t be anything stopping your pack. The entire plan will be over. They’ll go after Shepherd, then they’ll hunt down Phil. 

Cold ice water hits you in the face, shocking you back into clarity. Phil is holding the cup of water he’d been letting you drink from periodically. You blink at him as water drips into your eyes, your breaths hitching but far slower than they had been. You’re awake and aware now. 

You didn’t even know it was possible to do that. 

“Don’t distress on me now.” He says, putting the cup down. “We have so much ahead of us.” He moves around to the back of your chair, bending down until his breath hits your ear. “Besides, you make me help you out of distress, I might not be able to stop myself.” 

Your eyes pinch closed as his lips brush the shell of your ear before he stands back up, tears mixing with the icy water still sliding down your face. 

Christine nearly runs down the ramp once the plane has stopped on the runway. She’s jet lagged and worn out after eight hours of worrying, but she’s eager not only to finally get some news on you and your status, but to see her brother for the first time in a long time. 

It’s not hard to find him. 

“Chrissy!” He grins, hugging her tightly. 

She has half a mind to complain about the nickname she’d endured her entire childhood, but she can’t find it in her as she hugs her brother tightly. She’s missed him, more than she realized. Their jobs have kept them busy, her with her medical studies and practice, and Alex with...whatever it is he does. 

“It’s been far too long.” She says, pulling away from him. She’d love to stand there and hug him for an hour, but she can’t. They have more important things to do. Time is of the essence, if her worst fears are true. 

“A lot has happened, a lot has changed.” He says. 

She looks him over, spotting the more noticeable changes in comparison to the last time they were face to face. “You could say that.” 

“We can talk about it later.” He turns to the other person with him, a woman. “Christine, this is Farah.” He introduces her. “Farah, this is my baby sister Christine.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Farah says, shaking her hand. 

“You as well.” Christine looks between them for a moment. She knows that look in Alex’s eyes as he looks at Farah. 

“We should get moving.” Farah says, ignoring him. 

“Laswell has moved off the grid.” Alex says, opening the driver’s side of the SUV. 

Smart, if things are as bad as she thinks they are. 

Christine gets into the back, letting out a long breath. She’s closer now to finding out what’s happened to you. The guilt is still eating her alive. If she just hadn’t left, if she hadn’t believed the phone call, put it above your safety. 

Things might have been worse if she had stayed. 

“Kate filled us in about everything.” Alex says as he drives away from the airfield. “At least in regards to the pack and your involvement.” 

“There’s some things she’s not telling us.” Farah says. “Though if things are as bad as they sound, I don’t blame her.” 

“I don’t know much of anything.” Christine says, staring out the window as they drive out of the city. “I feel like it’s my fault. If I hadn’t left her alone...” 

“It’s hardly your fault.” Alex says, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “If this was all planned, there wouldn’t have been anything that would stop it from happening.” 

“They might have done worse if you had stayed there.” Farah says, speaking Christine’s own fears aloud. 

“I wish I could see her. Make sure she’s alright.” Christine says. “If something happens to her...” 

“From what I hear she’s a hardy omega.” Alex says, trying to comfort her. “She’s withstood a lot. She can survive the 141, she’s probably giving them hell as we speak.” 

**Content Warnings: light torture, choking to the point of almost passing out, blood, very detailed descriptions of pain, non-fatal stabbing**

It’s getting hard to breathe. Phil’s grip around your throat is getting tighter and tighter, less and less oxygen getting to your bloodstream and your brain. Your mouth has an almost permanent metallic taste as blood drips down your chin. Blood stains Phil’s arm from where you bit him, teeth marks red and angry looking from where they broke the skin. 

“You fucking bitch.” He growls, jaw clenched. “Your alpha should have taught you some manners.” 

His hand squeezes tighter, cutting the air off entirely. You begin to panic, tugging against the restrains with your raw, cut up wrists. Black dots begin to dance in your vision, your legs straining against the zip ties keeping them attached to the chair. Your hands and feet are going numb, your entire body tingling. This is it. You’re going to be choked to death. 

He holds his hand there for a moment, letting you struggle before he lets go and you suck in a gasp of air. You slump over in the chair, blood splattering on the floor as you cough, your throat raw and sore. Tears burn in your eyes as you heave, trying to get the oxygen flowing through your body again. 

Phil bends down to your level as you sit there, head hanging as blood drips from your mouth. Your tongue is raw from how many times you’ve bitten it. It’s impossible to tell how much time has really passed. There’s no windows in the room. The only light source is the cracks around the door behind you. Even then with the bright light in your face constantly, it’s hard to tell anything anymore. 

“Feisty still, but everyone has their limits.” His hand cups your chin as he stands, lifting your face to follow him. His hand holds the back of your head up as he wipes at the blood under your nose and on your chin almost gently. 

Tears stream down your cheeks as you stare up at him, unable to even care anymore that his hand is so close to your neck. All he has to do is move it down just slightly and squeeze and you’ll be unaware of anything around you, at the mercy of his bidding. 

That would almost be a relief. 

He dumps another icy cup of water over your head, keeping you from slipping too much into a panic. The cold water stings the cut on your chest and the one on your arm as it slides down your shoulders. You’ve lost the ability to feel the throbbing in your calf, numb to most of the pain in your body. 

Why haven’t they come for you? Where is your pack? 

Have they written you off for good? Was finding Shepherd more important than you? 

Phil’s phone goes off, your stomach dropping. He stares at the screen for a second before turning back to you. 

You shake your head, the tears cascading down your cheeks. “No,” You start to shake. “No, please-” 

“You know I have to, darlin’.” He moves behind you, tugging on your hair to keep your head up as one of his men stands in front of you with a phone in hand. 

He counts down on his fingers before pressing record. 

“Seems you boys still can’t follow orders. Your omega sure wishes you would.” Phil says as he reaches around your head, holding your chin in his hand. He tilts your head back making you look up at him. “Don’t you, darlin’. Tell them. Tell them how much you wish they’d follow orders.” 

You’re still crying, unable to stop as you stare at the camera. They really have given up on you. They’ve deemed you unworthy of saving. They’ve let you sit here and be beat up and tortured all because they put the job first. 

They really have given up on you. 

Are they even watching? 

“Please,” You croak out, half begging your pack to care, half begging Phil to have mercy. 

“Since you can’t seem to bring yourselves to care about your own omega,” He shifts slightly, someone handing him something behind you. You catch a glint of metal, your heart rate picking up. You’re panicking, breaths coming in shaky gasps. You know he can do worse. He’s threatened worse, but what is he going to do? “It seems you need a little more...motivation.” 

You try to wiggle out of his grasp in panic, wrists bleeding again from tugging at the zip ties. They’re coated in your blood, your leg throbbing but you don’t care. You need to get away, get free. “No, no-”

You let out a scream. 

It’s sharp and piercing, but nowhere near the sharp pain in your neck. It fires through your very nerve endings, making you aware of the very cells in your body. It shoots up into your brain, igniting every neuron in your brain. Your very blood feels like it’s boiling, your skin on fire from the pain. Every inhale feels like you’re breathing in sand, and every exhale is like glass shards dragging through your lungs and up your throat. The tears streaming down your face may as well be slicing through layers of skin, every wound pulsing and throbbing with a new kind of angry vengeance. 

You’re sobbing, nearly choking on air as the pain continues to pulse in your body. It’s too much, every sensation inside and outside of your body meshing together in an agonizing harmony. 

“Shhh.” Phil tries to shush you as he bends down, his cheek resting against the side of your head. “I know, I know. You’ll be alright.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head before letting you go limp in the chair. 

Your scream still hangs in the air even after the video ends. 

It’s otherwise silent in the room, all eight of them feeling the weight of their decisions on their shoulders. The scents in the air are full of pain and regret and guilt and anger. 

“Was that fatal?” Kate asks, breaking the tense silence. 

“No.” Christine chokes out, her voice shaky. Her hands are trembling where they’re tucked against her sides. Her arms are crossed over her chest, trying to bring herself some kind of comfort after what she had just watched. “He went for the scent gland. It’s not a fatal injury, unless you go too deep, but he knew what he was doing.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “It’s just incredibly painful.” 

Her words hang in the air for a moment, all of them still trying to process what they had just seen. 

John slams his hands on the table, all of them jumping. “I fucking told you.” He says, his voice laced with the deep growl of his alpha. “I fucking told you Kate, she should have been flown out here as soon as you made the call.” 

“I know.” Kate says, undeterred by his anger. She’s seen it many times, though she’s rarely been on the receiving end of it. “I know, I made a bad call. None of us knew they would take it this far.” 

“But we knew something was going on behind the scenes.” John says, still radiating anger. “All precautions should have been taken.” 

“There was no guarantee her being here would have stopped them. She might not have been any safer here.” Kate says, trying to ease his anger, even though she knows it’s completely warranted. “This goes far deeper than we thought it did. Even before this plan was set into motion.” She waits a moment, letting the air settle. “A year ago, a convoy was smuggling missiles and other weapons into the Middle East in an off-the-books operation. The convoy was attacked and the missiles and arms were stolen by a Russian PMC group. The operation was conducted under the command of Shepherd, and the soldiers in the convoy were all Shadow Company.” 

“That’s how Graves is tied into this.” Kyle says. 

“It goes deeper than that.” Kate says, pulling up a file and displaying it on screen. “The missiles and weapons being smuggled weren’t being sent to aid allies in the Middle East. Shepherd sold them to AQ and the Russians. The PMC group that attacked Shadow Company was hired by Shepherd to make it look like an ambush.” 

“Fucking weasel.” Simon growls. 

“I don’t know how much Graves knows, or how much he helped hide the entire operation, but his ties to this go even deeper.” Kate says, and they all shift closer. “Graves has history with your omega.” She says, pulling up an old photo. “We combed through one of her brothers’ Facebook pages. Found an old photo of her dad with Graves. They served on the same base when her family lived in Texas before Graves left to join MARSOC. She would have still been a child at the time.” 

They stare at the photo, Graves clearly identifiable as he stands next to another man, beers in their hands. There’s two other boys in the photo, young and grinning at the camera. Standing in front of Graves is a little girl, a happy grin on her face. They’re all in various combinations of red, white, and blue. 

4th of July, they assume. 

“That’s how she got into the institute so fast.” John says, staring at the photo. He’s never seen a photo of your father before. You must take after your mother. “Graves pulled the strings.” 

Kate nods. “He did, but under the condition he would be the one to claim her when she grew old enough. The CIA wiped out that claim when they froze her file.” 

The 141 all shift on their feet, sharing looks. John feels a sick twisting in his stomach at the implications. Your position in the photo suddenly makes sense. Anger burns in him, deep and bubbling like magma. He’ll kill the bastard. 

“This is revenge then.” Johnny says. 

“In a way, I think.” Kate says. “We took away what he wanted. Graves wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity. He’s not afraid to get his hands dirty.” 

“This all is what the initiative was created for.” Christine says, leaning against the table. “A contingency in case this all was uncovered.” 

“A way to control us.” Kyle says. 

Kate nods. “Yes. It was all a plan to give the 141 a weakness, a way to be controlled should the situation arise. In this case it just so happened to be the uncovering of his traitorous arms deals.” 

“We were all pawns in this.” Christine says. 

“We let them walk right in and take control like that.” John says, turning to Christine. “You let them walk in and take our omega.” 

She turns to face him, undeterred by his agitation and anger. “I did what I thought was right at the time. I got a call from one of the front desk workers in the med center saying that someone was waiting in my office for me.” She explains. “They wouldn’t say who it was, and the whole thing felt off. I knew whoever would be visiting me was not going to be friendly, so I felt it was safer to leave her in the barracks than take her with me and risk something happening in a place she doesn’t know well. In the barracks at least she’d know places to hide and barricade herself.” 

She takes a deep breath, still facing down John fearlessly. He’s coiled tight like a spring, ready to jump at any moment should he deem it necessary. It’s those protective instincts, the knowledge that his omega is somewhere else, taken unwillingly and being tortured feeding into that need to fight. 

“My office door was open when I got there.” She continues. “I always leave it locked. I went in prepared to fight, but I was attacked from behind. Hit over the head and drugged with something fast acting, something that would keep me incapacitated long enough for him to strike.” She stares up into his eyes, projecting her scent just a bit to try and get him to calm down. “We all made mistakes here, things we thought were the right choice at the time.” 

She’s not wrong. They all know it. They had just seen proof of it.  

“The assailant?” John asks, turning back to Kate. 

“Corporal McKinney.” Kate says. “He was in Shepherd’s pocket from the start. Someone who could watch first-hand. Someone who could sneak into the barracks unnoticed without many questions. He was likely the one that put the cameras up.” 

“Fucking wanker.” Simon growls. “He approached her once in the mess. Early on. Tried to introduce himself to her. Backed off as soon as I intervened. Never tried again, at least that we know of.” 

“She never mentioned him.” Christine says. “Or anyone else on base that might have tried to approach her.” 

“Where is he now?” Kyle asks. They’re all angry, frustrated. How had they not seen this happening? 

“Local police tracked his car to an abandoned airfield not far outside of Hereford.” Kate says. “He was dead inside. Police ruled it suicide.” 

“I’m sure it was.” John says. 

They all know it wasn’t. 

“Shadow Company likely picked her up from there with orders to stage a suicide.” Kate says. 

“One less loose string to worry about.” Simon says. “Covers their tracks in England.” 

They all go quiet. How this had all happened right under their noses? They’re all guilty of falling for it, for being too trusting in a world they know they can’t be too careful in. Allies can turn on a dime and become enemies. Betrayals can be easily bought. Things can turn downhill within a blink of an eye. They’re supposed to be prepared for the worst, ready for every possibility. 

They had written this off as a conspiracy, and now their omega is paying for it. 

“We need a plan.” Farah says, breaking the silence. 

“We can’t let Shepherd get away.” John says. 

“We cannae just leave her.” Johnny argues against his alpha. It’s a brave thing, considering his alpha’s current mental state.  

“I don’t know how much more she can take.” Simon backs his beta up, the desperation and pain on your face still visible in all of their minds. 

“Let us go after Shepherd.” Alex says, offering up a solution. “He’s obviously watching for you to come after him.” 

“We can move undetected.” Farah agrees. “He’s less likely to expect us. You need to focus on your omega. Shepherd will show himself again eventually.” 

“Do we have a lead on their location?” Kyle asks, turning back to Kate. 

She nods. “We do now. I sent a team out to try and track location through the videos and where they were being sent from.” She pulls a map up on screen. “We have a location.” 

“Texas.” Alex says. 

“He took her home.” Christine says. 

“We have a plan then. We go after Graves, Farah and Alex start tracking Shepherd. Kate is eyes in the sky for us.” John says. 

“She’s going to need medical attention as soon as possible.” Christine says. She looks at Kate. “Where is the nearest military base from their location?” 

Kate types on her computer. “Naval Air Station Joint Reserve Base in Fort Worth.” 

“Get me there and I’ll be waiting. She’s going to need someone she knows.” She says, looking at John. “She’s not going to just let anyone close to her after this. She may not even let you close.” 

John stares down at her for a long moment. She stares back unflinchingly. She doesn’t get intimidated easily, not after years of dealing with institutes and alphas alike. 

He lets out a breath, staring down at her for a long moment before he nods. “I trust you.” 

“Short reunion this time.” 

“I’m just glad I got to see your face again.” Christine says, looking up at Alex. 

“Things are...complicated.” He says. “Maybe after all of this is over we can go and get some coffee. Talk about our lives...as much as we can.” 

The corner of her mouth twitches up in a smile. “I’ll hold you to that.” 

Alex pulls her into a hug, holding her tightly. “You’re doing good work, Chrissy.” 

She shakes her head at the nickname, but she holds him just as tightly. “I’m trying to.” 

Alex pulls away, squeezing her arms. “I’d say you are. You care a lot. To the point some might call it a character defect.” 

She scoffs, slapping his chest playfully. “Not like you’re much better.” She glances at the car where Farah is waiting patiently. “I’m happy for you.” 

“Oh, we’re....” Alex blushes to his ears. “We’re not...” 

She gives him a look. “Mhm sure.” She looks up at him one more time. “Be safe.” 

“As best I can.” He says. “Take care of yourself. Don’t be too hard on yourself either.” 

“I try not to be.” She squeezes his hand before stepping away. 

She watches the SUV drive off, stomach churning with nerves for both of them. Shepherd is dangerous, but Alex has fearlessly faced down danger since he was a kid. He’s always been brave and determined, loyal and unafraid to do what he thinks is right no matter what. She trusts him to take care of himself, she trusts Farah to help him, even if she only met the woman today. 

She trusts them both to take care of each other. She trusts them both to help put an end to this. 

**Content Warning: Blood, vomiting, 'mega forces herself into a panic attack**

Your body aches, muscles screaming. You can’t take much more. Your cheek throbs painfully, swollen to the point you almost can’t see out of your left eye. The pain burning from your neck makes the other pain in your body nearly irrelevant, nearly nonexistent. It’s like electricity, burning through your very cells. Every movement seems to make it flare, makes the electric shock jolt through you. The burning pain that follows makes you whimper, a pathetic choking sound squeaking out from your bruised throat. 

The pain makes you nauseous, vomit staining the front of your shirt and pants. It’s mostly bile and the little food you’ve gotten since your kidnapping. 

Nutrient bars, meant to keep you fed and nourished for a short period of time. 

You may never be able to eat them again. 

“Fuck.” Graves curses, staring at his phone. “They’ve backed off.” He steps up to you, looking down on your pathetic form. “Looks like your boys do care about you after all.” 

Do they? Are they really coming for you, or have they simply given up chasing Shepherd because they lost all their leads. Will they come for you, or will they leave you here to rot? What will Graves do then? Try to take you as his own omega? Kill you out of anger? 

Your stomach churns and you can feel the bile rising. 

You vomit again, the warm liquid splashing into your lap. You can’t lean far enough anymore, not without the risk of not being able to pull yourself back up, not with the pain burning your every movement. You can’t even lift your head anymore, your body weak and battered and bruised. There’s blood everywhere, on you and on the floor. You can still taste it in your mouth, mixing with the sourness of bile. 

Graves gives you a disgusted look before turning to the others in the room. “Duran, Lewis, keep watch. The rest of you come with me.” 

He leaves the room for the first time in what you assume is days. For once the cocktail of scents begins to disperse, all but two of the alphas finally disappearing. Where they’re going or what they’re going to do, you don’t know. You can’t bring yourself to care either way. You just want to go home. You want to see your mother again, your brothers and sisters, even your father would be a welcome sight after this. You want your alpha, you want him to hold you, to take you in his arms, keep you safe.

He abandoned you. He left you to suffer like this. 

Your breathing picks up as you sit there, chin to chest as you stare at your bloody shirt. The smells in the room are awful, the scents no longer there to block out the sour bile and metallic stench blood. Tears are streaming down your cheeks, pink tinted splatters dripping onto your pants. What are you going to do now? What are they going to do to you now? Will they keep you alive long enough for your pack to arrive then kill you in front of them? Will they torture them too, make them watch as the life slowly leaves your eyes in revenge for chasing after Shepherd? 

A sob rips through your sore throat up out of your lips. 

You just want to go home. 

You just want to be free. 

You can be. 

Distress. The final defense. The last ditch effort omegas have to save themselves. Distress will lead to your omega taking over, and if nothing else, a quiet death you won’t even realize is happening. Your body will give out and you’ll be safely tucked into the back of your brain, comforted by your instincts. You won’t have to worry anymore. You won’t have to care. 

If nothing else, the pain will be over. 

I’m sorry. 

You begin to breathe heavier, ignoring the pain in your body as you push yourself to hyperventilate. The alphas behind you might do something, might try to stop it. They could, but would they even know how? Would it even work if you got too far? They’re not your alpha. They can’t comfort you, bring you back from the edge without forcing you. Will they even bother? 

You tilt your head to the side, putting pressure on your injured scent gland. You sob at the pain, the burning flowing straight into your very cells, making them scream. You push through it, your wrists twisting against the zip ties, digging them further into your already damaged wrists. The pain pushes you to a point of panic, your heart rate through the roof. You can feel it, the tightening of your muscles, your joints locking into place. 

You’ve never done it purposefully before, but in this state, it’s not hard. 

They left you. They’ve abandoned you. They’ve given up. It’s all your fault they left. They’re not coming for you. You’re not worth it. 

The thoughts send you down the spiral, the edges of your vision starting to go dark. You’re floating away, hands and feet going numb as your wheezing, shallow breaths block the oxygen from getting to your brain. You’re sinking, your body floating as you begin to retreat into the back of your mind. The cage is open, your omega soothing you as you drift off, curling up in the back recesses of your mind. 

You’re safe now. She whispers. 

There’s no going back. 

You’re going to get out. 

Even if you have to do it yourself. 

The last breath you remember taking is shaky, making you cough before your vision begins to fade to grey, then to black. You’re getting out of here no matter what. You’re going to go to sleep. If you fail, you’ll never know it. Your death will be quick and gentle and you’ll never know it happened until you’ve moved on to whatever is next. 

You won’t remember any of this. That’s your only consolation. 

Your vision fades to black as all memory and awareness leaves you. The last thing you remember is the snap of the zip ties around your wrists as they break. 

“Graves has moved with some of his men to the western building. It’s likely the hostage is being held in the eastern building. Gaz and I will go after Graves. Ghost and Soap will try to secure the hostage.” 

“Keller is on her way to NAS JRB as we speak. They’re on standby for medevac.” 

“Stealth is our priority. They know we’re here, we risk losing the hostage. Quick and quiet, take them by surprise. The faster we do this, the sooner it will all be over.” 

**Content Warning: blood and slight gore, someone gets shot offscreen, some gorey and explicit imagery towards the end**

He’s not unfamiliar with high stakes missions. It’s his specialty. He’s cool and calm under stress and pressure, which is why he gets chosen for them. He can detach easily, get the job done and then go home and forget. 

So why are his hands shaking? 

This isn’t a high stakes mission, not like one he’s used to doing. The stakes are higher, higher than he’s ever had before. It’s not just eliminating some faceless target, it’s not just rescuing some faceless hostage. 

It’s rescuing you. 

He hates that you were involved in all of this. He hates that they all fell for it, blind to the truth, blind to Shepherd’s traitorous actions. They refused to entertain those conspiratorial thoughts, and now you’re paying for it. He knows why Price made the decision he did, he understands the logic behind it. 

He hated it, though. 

How far would Graves have taken it if they had chosen to go after you first. Would things have gotten this bad? Or would he still have hurt you, tortured you just out of sheer anger for what happened between the two of you? He wouldn’t give up just because Shepherd told him to stop. He’s ruthless and uncaring of who he hurts and why. He gets his orders and he completes them, no matter what, so long as whoever is giving those orders can pay a high enough price. 

How much did he get for this assignment? How much did he settle for once he learned you were involved? 

Far too much despite that fact, most likely. Maybe he should become a merc. Less rules and more money.

It’s not a bad idea. 

He lasers his focus on the building as they creep through the trees, moving silently. Two against however many are inside. It was impossible to tell with how many were moving between the two buildings constantly. 

He brought the whole squad. He planned on putting up a fight regardless. 

At least they have the element of surprise on their hands. 

“We move silently through the building.” He says as they approach the door. There’s two guards standing outside. “They know we’re inside, things could go downhill quickly.” 

“On you, LT.” Johnny says, taking point beside him. 

“Drop one, I’ll take the other.” He says, aiming at one of the two Shadows guarding the door. 

It’s quick and quiet, their bodies slumping onto the damp dirt. Simon scans the area before moving forward to the door. It’s unlocked, Johnny pushing it open slowly to check for a trip wire. 

None. 

Sloppy, or perhaps on purpose. They can’t be too careful. Shepherd will have let Graves know they’re not on his trail anymore. He’ll be expecting them. 

They split up, combing the bottom floor of the building. He takes out two more Shadows, checking every room for a sign of their target, but they find none. 

“Second floor.” He says, waiting at the base of the stairwell for Johnny to join him. 

“You think she’s in here?” Johnny asks as they creep up the stairs, careful not to make too much noise. 

“Well, we’ll find out.” 

It’s far too unguarded to where they’re holding you. Graves will have assumed they’d split up. He must have moved most of his men to the western building to put up as much of a barricade as possible. He can picture Graves standing there, the smirk on his face as he holds a gun to your head. Will he take that risk, shoot you in front of them and give them nothing to live for? Or will he use a knife, letting you die a slow, painful death in front of them? 

Or, maybe he moved them to the western building to make them think that’s where you are. Focus their attacks there so they leave you behind. He gets cornered, he send the word to kill you before any of them can get to you. 

More red herrings. 

He pauses before he reaches the top of the steps, taking out the shadow standing down the hallway. They split up again, looking through rooms at the top of the stairs, making their way down the hallway. 

One of the doors is open, and he silently motions for Johnny. He counts down silently in his head before rounding the corner, rifle up as he scans the room. His stomach churns as he looks inside, taking a couple cautious steps forward. He’s seen a lot of things in his time, done a lot of things, but this is different. 

“Screaming Jesus.” Johnny says, lowering his rifle as he steps in behind Simon. 

There’s blood everywhere. 

It’s coating the floors, leaving a sticky residue as it dries. It’s the room you were in. He recognizes it from the video, and the bright light in the corner is a dead giveaway. The chair in the middle of the room has been broken, the wood of the arms snapped off and splintered. There’s four bloody zip ties on the floor, along with several instruments on the floor including the ice pick. 

He wants to shove that into Graves’ eye for what he did to you. 

There’s two bodies on the floor, one of them dead in a pool of his own blood, the other choking as blood seeps onto the floor under him. He steps up to the shadow, putting his boot on his chest and pushing. The Shadow lets out a groan, coughing up blood. 

“Where the fuck is she?” He growls, staring down at the quickly paling face. 

“Fucking bitch went crazy.” He chokes out. “Went running.” 

Simon steps back, pulling out his handgun and firing two bullets into the Shadow’s head. 

“Price, we found the room.” He says into his comm. “The hostage isn’t here. A half-dead Shadow said she bolted.” 

“LT.” Johnny says, motioning to the door, the only other exit from the room. There’s a bloody handprint on the door, one too small to be one of the Shadows’. 

“I think she managed to get out.” He says, staring at the handprint. His stomach drops, his hand tightening around his rifle. He glances down at the bodies, throats cut and faces bloody. “I think her omega took over.” 

“You and Soap go after her. She’ll do the one thing she knows to do, the one instinctual thing she can do if she has nothing to fight.” Price says. “We’ve got Graves cornered.” 

Simon pushes the door open, cool air flowing into the stuffy room. There’s bloody shoe prints heading down the stairs. He can see the rapid turn on the concrete below before they head off towards the trees. 

“I’ve got a trail.” He says. 

“Go.” Price says. “Simon...you know what you have to do.” 

He does.

He motions for Johnny to follow before hurrying down the stairs. The longer they delay, the further you’ll get. He doesn’t doubt some Shadows followed you if you made that much of a ruckus. The more time they waste, the more dangerous things get, and not just because they might lose you or the shadows might catch up. 

He races towards the treeline, rifle in hand, but there’s no one else standing guard. Price and Gaz will have taken care of those in the other building, and those that were outside probably went after you. 

He slows once they break the treeline, trying to catch any hint of your scent that might be left. His only hope is that you’ve left a trail. He’s a tracker, he knows what he’s doing. His senses are stronger, more in tune. He can find you. He can track you down. He has to. 

The guilt is eating him alive. If something happens to you, he’ll never forgive himself. He’s right here, so close and yet so far. You’re running on borrowed time and there’s only so much of it left. Eventually you have to slow, eventually your body will start giving up. Will it be too late then? If a Shadow finds you when you can’t fight back...

“Dead Shadow ahead.” Johnny says, motioning to the slumped over body ahead of them. “We’re on the trail.” 

“Let’s hope she left more markers on the way.” He says, kicking the Shadow, but the stab wound in his neck is all Simon needs to know. “Keep going straight.” He says, continuing on the path they’ve been following. He needs just a whiff, a hint of your scent. Something. 

They come across another dead Shadow, this one off to the side of the path they had been following. He turns, making an adjustment before moving forward. Johnny keeps close, both of them watching for more Shadows, or for any glimpse of you. All they can hope is they’re on the right path. 

He nearly sets off in a run as he hears a sound ahead. It’s a yowl, almost like a mountain lion. It sends a tingle down his back, his alpha blaring warning alarms. A threatened omega is a dangerous thing. Fierce and protective of themselves, capable of great feats and lethal if you get too close. 

It’s you, no doubt. 

Price had been right. 

He has no choice. 

He pushes forward, his steps quick as he makes his way through the bushes. He spots you near a boulder, trying to fight off a Shadow. He’s got the upper hand, using his size against you. You’re getting tired, your movements slowing. Simon aims with his rifle, a shot to the head dropping the Shadow. You drop into a crouch, surveying the trees. You’re covered in blood, a knife in your hand as your wild eyes search for them. 

“Distract her.” He says to Johnny. “Make yourself as unthreatening as possible. I’ll go around and get her from behind.” 

He doesn’t even wait for an acknowledgement before he’s moving, slipping around to the side of the boulder. Johnny steps into the clearing slowly, holding his hands up, talking to you quietly.

“Easy, kitten. Ye know who I am.” Johnny is careful not to get too close, his steps slow as he moves to the side, getting you to turn. “We’re just here to help ye. Get ye home and safe.” 

You’re holding the knife up, brandishing it at Johnny. Simon isn’t sure if you’ve ever thrown a knife before, but he doesn’t put it past you to try in this state. 

He hopes Johnny’s reflexes are fast enough. 

He slips out from behind the boulder as you pause, wasting no time as he races up behind you and grabbing you before you can bolt or go for Johnny’s neck. You let out another yowl, struggling against him as he wraps an arm around your chest. Your teeth sink into his arm and he lets out a curse, but he doesn’t let go. He lets go, they won’t get another chance. It’ll be too late. 

He doesn't want to do it. His mind flashes back to his father and mother, one of the few times his mother fought back. It hadn’t lasted long before her body went limp, practically a ragdoll in his father’s hold. Simon had grabbed Tommy and ran, barricading them in his room. They didn’t want to see what was going to happen next. 

He doesn’t want that kind of control over you, he doesn’t want to put you through that trauma. The disorientation, the fear, the confusion. That must have been what it felt like after being sedated during your heat. You had been sick for days, crying in Johnny’s room. He had heard every sob, every attempt to soothe you. 

He put you through that. He made you face that down despite the fear on your face as Johnny escorted you to the med center. 

And now he has to do it again. 

He has to this time. He has no choice. His only other option is to let you die. Price will never forgive him. Johnny won’t even look at him again. He’d betray them worse than you did, worse than Shepherd, worse than Graves. 

You never really betrayed them in the first place, though. 

You were afraid, untrusting of them, unsure because of your past. He had been foolish to blame you, foolish to think it was somehow your fault. You acted out of fear, out of terror. How you must have felt in those moments when that beta showed up, when you faced down Shepherd alone, when you returned to find your space invaded and those cameras all over your room. They weren’t there to protect you, they weren’t there to support you. They left you alone and you hid it from them because you didn’t know any better, because you were so afraid. 

He’s a goddamn fucking prick he’s been. 

Tears blur his vision as he tucks his free arm behind you, shifting your position just enough so he can get his hand around the back of your neck. You kick out with your legs, releasing his arm, your head tilting back in a last ditch, instinctual effort to protect yourself. 

His eyes squeeze closed as you let out a yelp, his fingers digging into the back of your neck. It’s hard enough it will leave a bruise, but he has to be sure. It’s the only thing that might save you. It’s his only option, his only chance to keep you alive. 

“There you go.” He says quietly into your ear. “Need you to relax for me.” 

Your body goes limp in his hold, head resting back against his hand as he holds you there. Your muscles twitch as the tension leaves you, eyelids fluttering before they close. His arm stings where your teeth had sunk into his skin, hard enough to draw blood, but he doesn’t care. 

“Keep resting.” He says, easing his hand from the back of your neck as he shifts you in his arms. “Gonna get you somewhere safe.” 

You’re like a ragdoll in his arms as he lifts you up, cradling you against his chest. You’re warm, hair sticking to your forehead. 

“Call it in.” He tells Johnny, his eyes still glued to your face. “We need that medevac now.” 

“Price, we got her.” Johnny says into his comm. “We need medevac stat.” 

You look so peaceful despite the blood soaking your body. Partially yours, partially the Shadows you killed in your escape. You look like a gruesome painting, a gorey depiction of an omega pushed too far. Something they’d put on display in a museum, a photo that would win prizes in celebration of such a natural state caught on camera. It would be circulated for decades, something talked about centuries from now. 

A raw view of humanity’s inner beasts. 

He can’t stand it, seeing you like this. They did this to you. They are the reason you’re like this. They made the bad call in the end, they put you through this. You won’t forgive them, not after everything. You went weeks without them, without a word and then this happened. Innocence tainted in the blood of the guilty. The bloodstained omega held in the arms of the blood-tainted alpha. He should be the one covered in their blood. He should be the one carrying the weight of torture and desperation on his shoulders. 

The guardian dog covered in blood in the name of protecting his innocent sheep. 

How he’s failed you. How they all failed you. 

He pushes past the pain, past the grief, past the guilt and the horror of what they did to you, what they put you through. 

They’ve got you back. You’re safe. 

It’s over. 

NEXT ->

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[barcaatthemoon]

fade into you || lena oberdorf x reader ||

lena takes your virginity.

minors dni, 18+, smut warning.

not proofread because i have 30 minutes to get to work and still need to eat breakfast.

the move from manchester to bayern was a big one, but you hadn't made it alone. your older sister keira's best friend, georgia, had transferred with you. with georgia there, you practically had another older sister there with you. and it was great, up until you met lena.

the bayern and wolfsburg games were pretty intense, but you loved it. english soccer hadn't necessarily been physical enough for you, aside from your very heated games against arsenal. lena could match your aggression and put you on your ass if she really wanted to.

at first, there had been a couple of close calls. georgia had gotten herself carded arguing with lena twice before someone said something. after that, you had players like magda and pernille, your team mothers, who looked out for you instead. they were a lot more protective, not even letting the german player talk to you after games.

lena hated the way that they watched over you like a hawk whenever she was around. all lena had wanted to do then was talk to you, and she had to wait months before she finally had a good chance to do so. georgia had tried to step in to "protect" you whenever lena approached you after an international game against each other, but she wasn't nearly as intimidating as magda.

"(y/n)!" lena called out as she chased you down in the tunnel. you froze on the spot, unsure of what lena could have wanted with you. that game had been difficult to say the least. tensions had been high, and several players on both sides had gotten a little sketchy with some of their tackles and challenges. "do you mind if we talk for a minute?"

"you want to talk to me?" you tried not to sound so surprised, but you couldn't help it. lena nodded as she extended her hand towards you. georgia looked a bit angry as you took it, not noticing the looks from leah, lucy, and your sister behind her.

"i'd prefer to do it alone," lena told you as she led you away from everybody else. "i've wanted to talk to you for a long time, but there are always other players around. your friends don't seem to like me too much."

"they are protective. we have a tendency to go a bit harder after each other than anybody else," you pointed out. lena couldn't argue with you on that one. she admittedly did play a bit rougher with you than she did with other players. however, lena knew that sometimes that was what it took to stop you from trucking through their defenses.

"i like how you play. i can't wait to be on your team." lena rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. you studied her for a moment, just long enough to be distracted by her features. your eyes bounced all around her face and body, shamelessly checking her out a bit. "before that, though, i'd like to get to know you better. maybe we could go on a date when you get back to germany?"

"why wait that long?" you asked her. lena looked surprised, like she couldn't believe that you wanted to spend time with her so soon. "i won't be drinking with the rest of the team tonight, and playing cards in my sister's room can wait. you guys leave tomorrow night, and i think that leaves just enough time for us to go out together for a night."

"the whole night?" lena asked. you were quick to shake your head, but refused to elaborate any further. lena didn't know that you were a virgin, she couldn't have. not a lot of people actually knew that, and while you had been told that it was nothing to be ashamed of, you couldn't help but feel like you were lagging in your age group.

"i'd like to see where things go first. hooking up isn't really my thing," you said quickly. you hoped that it came off casually, but you knew better than that. you weren't that lucky, not when it came to relationships. you had only ever dated one other person, and it had ended so badly that you kind of thought you'd never date again.

…

naturally, as your relationship progressed, lena eventually learned about your lack of experience. she had been kind about it once you told her. a lot of things that you had done over the past few months made sense to her. lena had known that you were shy, but now she understood why certain things messed with you as much as they did.

"good morning." lena greeted you with a kiss as you walked into the kitchen. it was her first week in her munich apartment, and she had asked for you to stay with her. the two of you had been together for nearly half of your first season at bayern. now, you'd get to play at the same club together, so she would be there to keep you company instead of georgia.

"this isn't good for my german," you told her. lena shrugged it off and wrapped her arms around your waist as she pressed several kisses to the side of your face. "i really do want to learn, lena."

"liebe, you are doing fine with the german. relax, we practice together every single day. rest your brain for a morning, it will be fine," lena said. you sighed as your body sank back against hers. you hadn't been with lena for very long in the scheme of things, but you knew for sure that you were in love with her. keira had once told you that love was a feeling that often took you by surprise, and your feelings for lena had blindsided you early on in your relationship.

the two of you had expressed your love for each other in words before, but you wanted to do more. you wanted to give yourself to lena fully. the thought was beyond terrifying for you, but you also knew that lena was trustworthy. she would take care of you, just like she had been doing for months. more than that, you trusted lena fully and wanted to show her just how far your trust reached.

"what are you thinking so hard about?" lena asked you. her voice was full of concern, breaking the blissfully relaxed energy that had been filling up her room. you had been ready to tell her exactly what you wanted, but when you opened up your mouth and looked at her, your words died out on the tip of your tongue.

"i want-," you paused, unsure of whether or not this was the time. lena would never push you towards anything, but you hadn't considered whether or not she wanted sex from you. everybody around the two of you had made a teasing remark here or there about sex, only to be shut down by an extremely defensive lena.

"it's okay, take your time." lena pressed a kiss to the top of your head as she pulled you to rest against her chest. you gave yourself a couple of moments to relax where she had guided you. once those moments were over, you shifted so that you were sort of leaning over her. "everything okay?"

"yes, i just, need to ask you something. lena, i'd like to have sex with you," you told her. lena's normally expressive face went completely blank as she stared at you. a wave of panic overtook your thoughts, but lena didn't let it get far enough for you to retract your statements.

"this is a big deal, are you sure liebe?" lena asked you. it was true, this was a big deal for you. some of your teammates had tried to play it off as something that didn't matter, but to you it did. lena knew this, and she had been fully prepared to wait until marriage if that was something you had wanted. a part of her hadn't expected you to want to talk about it again so soon, but she was glad that you trusted her.

"yes, of course i am. i love you, and i want to show you that," you said sheepishly.

"there are other ways to show that you love someone. it's not like i can give you this experience back if you decide that i wasn't the right one." for a moment, you thought lena was trying to talk you out of having sex. that idea was promptly snuffed out whenever you finally looked her in the eye. lena looked almost to tears, but there was no sign of anything other than joy on her face.

"i'm sure. i want you, and only you." lena had never heard you speak with such confidence or conviction before. you were shy, always keeping to yourself or your very carefully selected circle of friends. "just, please remember that it's my first time."

"always, we will take it slow," lena promised you.

…

neither you nor lena had really brought up having sex again for the remainder of your stay with her. you had assumed that lena had forgotten, not that she was working on making the last night of your week together so special. for the most part, you had been completely oblivious until she was practically shoving you out of the house to go shopping with sydney and laura.

they were nice, but still very much lena's friends. you had a lot of fun with the girls, who had definitely talked you into spending more money than you meant to. by the time that you headed back to lena's, you had enough things to fill an extra suitcase.

"lena?" you called out into the apartment. it looked empty, but lena had obviously cleaned and rearranged a few things. you could see the table set very romantically, and you wondered for a moment if you missed some sort of anniversary. all of those thoughts were practically thrown out of your head when you saw lena walk out of her bedroom. "you look amazing."

"i know that we did not talk about this before, but i really want to be with you before you leave. only if that's okay with you," lena said. she brushed a strand of your hair back behind you ear as she stepped into your space. there was never an invasion with lena, she was always welcomed eagerly with open arms.

"i'd like that. i've been thinking about it a lot," you confessed. lena smiled as she pulled you in for a kiss. something told you that lena would have kissed you either way, but this kiss felt different. this kiss built to something bigger, something that your body had been anticipating for a couple of weeks now.

lena pulled back from the kiss to lead you to the table. you sat there a little awkwardly by yourself while you waited for her to return. lena had obviously put a lot of effort into the meal, preparing things that you recognized as supposed aphrodisiacs. you noticed the distinct lack of alcohol at the table, which lena explained away as not wanting anything to possibly taint the experience.

"how are you feeling?" lena asked you. she leaned back against the counter as she watched you put the last dish in the dishwasher. you had fought her about leaving the dishes in the sink for tomorrow and cleaning up, but lena relented in the end. she had rinsed a few of the pots and pans before you were even home anyway, that was enough help as you'd accept.

"nervous, but in a good way. i trust you though, just show me what you like i guess," you told her. lena smiled as she pulled you in for a kiss. this one was soft and sweet, a gentle press of her lips against yours. the next couple ventured away from that territory, right up until lena was pinning you against the counter by the kitchen sink and kissing you absolutely breathless.

"i'm going to find out all of the things that you like. maybe it'll take more than a night, but we have the rest of our lives to figure everything out." lena picked you up with ease and carried you into her bedroom. every part of the house had been done up for tonight, so it shouldn't have come as a shock to you to see the candles and flowers all over the room.

"you spoil me. what if i want this every time we have sex?" you asked her.

it was a teasing question, but lena answered you with complete sincerity, "then i will do this every single time. there is nothing i wouldn't do to make you happy."

"i love you," you told her. lena blushed as she pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"i love you too," she mumbled. you threaded your fingers through her hair and lifted her head up so that she was looking at you. she repeated herself, suddenly a little afraid that you hadn't heard her. you pulled her in for another kiss, opening your mouth almost immediately to welcome her tongue.

lena dropped onto her knees on the bed to lay you down gently. her body quickly covered yours once again, and lena slotted herself in between your legs. the two of you had laid like that before, but now it felt different. both of you knew where this was leading, and while lena would assure you that you could turn back whenever you wanted, you knew otherwise.

you were grateful for lena taking her clothes off first, even if you had been head over heels for the outfit. it was rare that you got to see lena out of her kit or the sweats that she liked to wear around the house. and while there was little hotter to you than lena walking around in a tank top and sweatpants, the black slacks and white button up that lena had worn for tonight drove you a little crazy.

however, you were glad to not feel quite so underdressed for the occasion. you hadn't changed from the jean shorts and t-shirt of lena's that you had worn out for shopping. lena had barely let you go whenever she saw you in her shirt that morning, but you had compromised with her by cuddling on the couch until laura and sydney came bursting through lena's apartment doors.

"can i touch you?" lena asked as she motioned towards your bare chest. she was almost completely naked above you, only wearing her underwear. your shorts were still on, lena slowly making her way down your body. your lips were bruised from kissing her, and there were little wet spots from lena kissing along your neck and jaw.

"please do," you told her. lena smiled, dipping her head down to press a kiss to the little dip in between your collarbones. lena's hands massaged your breasts as she littered kisses all over your chest. you could feel that you were wet, but you didn't want to rush lena. as many times as she had told you that this was for you, you had reminded yourself that this was also for her as well. it was your first time, yes, but it was also your first time together.

with each inch that lena moved down your body, you felt your arousal and anticipation grow. you were practically shaking by the time that lena finally reached your shorts. she opened her mouth to ask if you still wanted to continue, only to be met with you impatiently shimmying yourself out of them. lena had the tact to hide her amusement, but you didn't miss the little glimmer in her eye.

it wasn't the amusement that you had mistaken it for. after your show of enthusiasm, lena let her own eagerness be known. the kisses that lena pressed to your hips and thighs were messy, much messier than the ones placed on your chest. lena paused and sucked a hickey onto the inside of your thigh, barely an inch away from where you were practically frothing at the mouth waiting for her to touch you.

"mine," lena muttered sweetly as she ran her finger over the hickey.

"make me yours," you begged her. you weren't sure what had compelled you to say that, but if lena's reaction was anything to go by, it was the right decision. lena grabbed your thighs and held them apart. you heard her swear as she really got a good look at you spread out in front of her.

there was nothing that could have prepared you for the feeling of lena's mouth on your cunt. you had kissed her hundreds of times already, but her lips felt completely different between your legs. you blindly reached around for something to grab until you felt lena take your hands in hers. it was sweet and grounded you, distracting you from your rapidly approaching orgasm.

"i don't want to cum yet," you whined. lena lifted her head to look at you. there was something reassuring in her eyes, something that quelled the panicked thoughts about embarrassing yourself in front of her.

"it's okay, let it happen. it always happens faster than you'd like the first time." lena spoke gently, more so than you had ever heard her before. you closed your eyes and tried to only focus on the way that lena felt as her tongue moved between your folds.

you couldn't stop the moans and all the little noises that normally would have embarrassed you. lena hummed appreciatively at each noise you made, like all she wanted was to hear them again. the focus of lena's tongue switched from just lazily lapping at your cunt to zeroing in on your clit. you felt a finger press against your entrance, rubbing teasingly as if she hadn't planned on actually entering you.

"lena, i think i'm gonna cum," you warned her. lena just sort of squeezed your hand as she continued with a steady pace. lena didn't want to overload your senses, so she tried to keep things going a little slower. she paid attention to every little signal that your body was giving her, helping you reach your peak and work yourself through it.

"you did so good," lena praised as she littered your face with kisses. your cheeks were flushed and your chest was heaving. you had made yourself cum a couple of times before, but it was nothing like having lena touch you. the feeling of lena touching you made you never want to even try to get yourself off ever again. "how are you feeling?"

"i've never felt like that before," you told her. it was a good feeling, but you couldn't quite articulate that yet. lena nodded, seemingly in understanding, and cupped your cheeks to pull you in for a kiss. "i can't believe i didn't ask for that earlier."

"go on to the shower. i'm gonna put the sheets in the wash," lena told you. she tried to move away, but you clung to her like your life depended on it. "liebe, we have to clean up."

"yes, and you can come shower with me. then, when we're out, you can put the sheets in the wash while i pick out something to watch in the living room." lena wasn't going to argue with you, especially not when your plan included a chance to shower with her. you knew that you had won when lena didn't try to argue with you, so you pulled her out of bed and towards the bathroom. your legs were a bit shaky still, so lena held onto your hips to steady you the whole way.

[walkingstackofbooks]

A 9-year-old Julian Bashir who has had nightmares about evil doctors in an alien hospital for as long as he can remember. He doesn't tell his parents though because "he's a big boy now" and nightmares are for little kids, so he knows he should deal with them alone. And even if he'd like a hug sometimes, his mum only gives him hugs for doing well, not for doing badly, so he figures there's no point bothering her

A 15-year-old Julian Bashir who realises that the nightmares he used to have were based on the apparently very real alien hospital his parents had taken him to as a kid, and spends hours trying to figure out what were real memories and what his mind had made up over the years as he slept. The nightmares come back with an intensity, but they're nothing compared with how he's feeling when he's awake, and pretty soon they become a normal background noise of his life.

A 19-year-old Julian Bashir who's finally been moved into a solitary room after his third roommate in as many weeks complained about the almost-nightly screams. His advisor asks if he wants to speak to anyone: he claims they're just night terrors and he doesn't actually remember them. Besides, even if he could talk about what was in them, he probably wouldn't, because he's fine - he's used to them by now.

A 24-year-old Julian Bashir who gets woken from his nightmares by warm hands and gentle kisses, and learns what is like to be soothed back to sleep by the soft voice of Palis Delon

A 32-year-old Julian Bashir who has a different nightmare every night. The last year's been difficult. But then, it's been difficult for everyone, and he knows he's far from the only one to be suffering from nightmares at the moment.

A 34-year-old Julian Bashir who can't stop dreaming about the torture he went through four weeks ago, who's missing Ezri and who Miles is increasingly concerned about. When the O'Briens offer him their spare room for a while, he warns them multiple times about his nightmares, and is pathetically grateful when that doesn't change their minds. "We have nightmares too, Julian," says Keiko. "We can cope with yours."

A 34-year-old Julian Bashir who is confused when, three days later, Miles remarks, "You are having a bad run of those nightmares, aren't you?"

"They've been better than usual, actually," he replies awkwardly. "It's been really nice being able to go back to sleep afterwards, for once -- you and Keiko have been so generous in coming and checking on me."

"Course we're gonna come and check on you," says Miles gruffly. "You woke up terrified. We're not letting you do that alone."

"I'd be fine, Miles," Julian reassures. "I'm hardly going to expect one of you to come in every night."

Miles pauses. "...How long are you expecting to have them 'every night' for?" he asks, with some concern. "I mean, after a thing like this, how long does it usually take them to settle down?"

Julian stares at Miles. "I... have nightmares, Miles," he replies, frowning. "Just like you. Nightmares happen every night."

"No, they don't," says Miles, equally confused. "Don't get me wrong, they can do: after something big then sure, they're like that for a few weeks - a couple of months, even. But eventually they fall down to once, twice a week..."

Julian is looking at Miles incredulously. "That might be how it works for you," he says. "I guess my brain's different to yours. Mine don't stop, they just... mix. Change. Get confused with one another, eventually. I've had more dreams about being genetically modified by Sloan in the Dominion camp than I care to remember, you know?"

Miles' concern has turned into abject dismay. "You're saying you've had nightmares every single night since the Dominion took you?" he exclaims.

"Well, maybe not every single night!" retorts Julian, a little unsure what Miles is getting so het up about. "I do have some days when I don't... But yeah, pretty much. I've had nightmares most nights since I was fifteen, it's just how my brain processes stuff."

"Fifteen?"

...

A 34-year-old Julian who finds out that having nightmares every night for two decades is, apparently, "not normal" and something he should be seeking help for.

If Ezri comes back alive, he supposes he might take it up with her.

[just-a-ghost00]

Pick a main character & I'll give you 13 facts about your secret admirer [part 1]

Images found on Pinterest. Deck used : golden thread tarot.

Group 1

7 of swords, 5 of pentacles, King of cups, Empress

You have no idea who this person is because they've lied to you about their real intentions. You'd never suspect this person to admire you in secret.

This is someone that tends to get lonely and remains guarded around people. You never know what they think, who they truly are, what they want from you. They may be refered to as a "cold", "heartless" person.

You are not in contact with this person at the moment.

Despite how people may perceive them and their harsh exterior, this person is incredibly loving and caring. They are the safest person to be with and they wouldn't hurt a single soul.

They are either a heavily Scorpio or Taurus influenced person.

This person misses you dearly and wishes they could be closer to you.

Most people get scared of them because of their depth and intensity. They get wrongly accused of being a bad person or someone dangerous. Most people never see beyond the surface and keep them at arms length.

Despite their very bold demeanor and independent attitude, this person is very feminine in nature. They could give everything they have to the people they trust.

Once you gain this person respect, it is very hard to lose it. You must be the biggest piece of sh*t if you ever cross this person. Because the last thing they want to do is to hate on people and be in conflict with them.

This is someone that feels extremely lonely because most people don't understand them.

They are incredibly smart and witty but most people don't get to see that from them. People tend to underestimate them.

They are very protective of their loved ones and their private space. If you touch anyone they love, you're a d**d man.

They give the best hugs and can be very reassuring, comforting, nurturing. They also cook the best meals and enjoy baking. They are also very good in bed so whoever manages to win their heart will be very lucky.

Group 2

ace of wands, 5 of cups, king of wands, 10 of swords

They cannot stay in place. They always feel the need to wreack havoc, stir some trouble, put some spice in the pot. That includes bed time activities.

They got their heart broken more times than they can count. They tend to be deceived in love because they grant their trust too easily.

They have a bad temper and they can be pretty stubborn. But they're also extremely brave and communicative, they are not afraid to state their mind and say what needs to be said.

They have a very combattive, competitive spirit. They can't stand losing to someone else, whether it's in games or in life, especially when it comes to relationships.

They are jealous af. But also kinky af. It is hard to get them to stop once you've set them ablaze.

This person has gone through hell. It's a miracle they're still breathing. They're a force to be reckoned with and whoever messes with them is going to face retribution one way or another.

They are sooooo petty. They could wait for years to see a project come to fruition, even if it is painful and difficult, only to be able to prove everybody wrong.

They've struggled with depression and may still be going through it at the moment.

They are amazingly creative. This person is a wonder and they make people question their sanity sometimes. They can create anything out of nothing and often times get incredible ideas that make people go "where the heck do you get all these thoughts?!".

Speaking of thoughts, they got many of them. Too many for their own good. And most of them are R-rated. But they would never admit it.

This person enjoys sports of all kinds. But I'm specifically picking up on running and working out at the gym.

They're a huge flirt. They're "too sexy for their shirt". And one of the reasons why they often get in trouble is because they can't keep their eyes and their tongue in check. Basically, they have an "act first think later" type of mentality that isn't always beneficial to them.

They may have a lot of mood swings and have a hard time dealing with their emotions. One day they're super cheerful and friendly, the other they're gloomy and sarcastic. Or maybe they're just a Gemini. You never know which side of the coin you'll get.

Group 3

4 of cups, High Priestess, ace of pentacles, 10 of pentacles

This person is incredibly shy and reserved, so much so that not even their own family knows them. They are so secretive. Even psychics wouldn't be able to see their core.

Speaking of psychics, this person could be one. If not, they have the ability to but may not be aware of it.

They enjoy their own company and are not afraid to be alone. They are not used to mingling with people. The reason why they admire you remains a mystery to them.

They are very generous with their time, money, advice, care. They never look down on people and never take for granted what they have.

They are highly educated and/or come from a wealthy family. If not, they are well established and have built a life they can be proud of through constant effort, hard work and patience.

They are incredibly resilient and loyal to a fault. They're also very stubborn, opinionated and unwavering. Once they have an idea in mind it is hard to stop them.

This person has a very magnetic presence and they can be quite intimidating. But the curiousity always gets the best out of people. No matter who you are, you just simply can't ignore this person's aura.

Ironically, people would never expect this person to be as wealthy and well established as they are, as strong and determined as they are. This person is often times underestimated or overlooked. It's like they just can't accept that someone like them can be succesful. That may be because of their roots.

This person puts tradition and family above anything else. They give a lot of importance to rules and moral codes. They value dedication, authenticity and honesty.

They could be religious. Or at least they are spiritual. They make offerings and kindly give out anything they may own if that can be of help to others.

This person enjoys community work, sharing of knowledge and experience. They like to garden, cook and enjoy the simple pleasures of life.

They fear rejection but they'd rather d** than admit it.

They have strong boundaries and won't settle for less than what they deem worthy of their attention. They're not afraid to step up and stand their ground, even if it may draw attention or make them look arrogant.

[harmoonix]

Fairytale - Astro Notes

The night will hold us close

And the stars will guide us home

Your lips were soft like winter

In your passion, I was lost

✿❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉✿

Mercury in Capricorn/Scorpio don't like to share all the things they do or did and rather keep it only for them in order to respect their privacy

Moon - Mars intense aspects: The native can get easily angry and can go through a rollercoaster of emotions, usually they end up having a breakdown in order to let themselves feel calm as at peace. They have an very intense nature (This can apply if you have semi-square or the other minor aspects aswell.

Scorpio Placements tend to have a very difficult time when it comes to love, they might feel that is always something to struggle with, their partners, emotions, feelings, etc... Some of them can easily end up heartbroken

Sagittarius Mars can get very scary when they are angry, this placement can indicate having a destructive side of you (kinda like a destroyer), and most times they don't think when they are angry and mostly act based on what they feel in that moment. Omg i imagine this placement as a Volcano erupting when they get angry

Neptune - Sun/Moon aspects: Radiating a very calm and peaceful aura, they can have a very calming personality and you can feel safe around them. For some reason i imagine this placement as someone who is like "Don't worry I'm here everything will be fine if we are together"😭 ( I love this)

Jupiter - Moon aspects can make the native to express their feelings more calmly and peacefully than other Planets. The native has a very powerful inner world, and very powerful intense emotions if you have conjunction between these too you can feel people's emotions without them telling you how they feel. This is also a very lucky to have, Jupiter helps the native to reach their goals and their dreams by using the power of emotions make sure to always understand your inner world

Mercury - Uranus aspects: The native can have a different accent than others while talking, they can have a very different writing style too and people always feel charmed by these natives due to their unique communication style. Also Uranus can make Mercury sometimes to talk too fast and sometimes to stutter during this

Pluto - Mercury aspects: Yes their sexy voices can rise all the hormones in your body, but these natives are very powerful at communicating and talking, knowing how to use the words at the perfect time. But omg yes another honorable mentions because of their voices!!🔥🔥🔥🔥 Men with these aspects are very attractive they can have a very deep gentle voice

Jupiter in the 8th house: Besties you know what time it is😍. It's time to become rich 💲👄💲, if you are attracted to men this placement can mean you will marry someone rich (Especially after marrying it says in the prophecy that usually these people have very successful marriages) + Abundent sex life because is the 8th house

An advice from me, for everyone with Venus - Saturn/Venus - Neptune/Venus - Pluto harsh aspects: Don't force love, love is supposed to come naturally. If the love doesn't come naturally and you have the feeling you need to force yourself for love...there was never love ❤️��🩹

Usually people with 8th house in Water Sign (Cancer, Pisces, Scorpio) are very sensual in bed and might hold an infinity of kinks while if you have a fire sign in the 8th house (Leo. Sagittarius, Aries) you might have kinks that imply rough romantism. Omg men with Leo in the 8th house are in their natural element

Uranus - Mars harsh aspects: Breaking bed marathon, addiction to sexual activities, these natives can be pretty horny and dirty minded 😭

8th house in an Earth Sign (Virgo, Capricorn, Taurus) usually like to have ✨ Quality time ✨ so before going to sensual part they tend to spend time kissing and talking with you and when they go to action... 😍 While 8th house in an Air Sign (Gemini, Libra, Aquarius) might be into touching and communicating trough love, usually these people are very comforting during and after sensual time. I kinda feel like they are "Don't worry I'm here we do this together vibe" is so cute. I know they are good people when it comes to after care 😍✨

People with Mars - Saturn aspects: They usually have really godly bone structure, if they do gym in order to take muscles this might come in time and the result is 😍 100% good. Men with those aspects can be very strong physically

1st house ruler in the 10th house means that the native is gonna focus a lot on the career and professions about their career. They have big chances for going in high professions of our world

1st house ruler in the in the 4th house means that native main focus is their family, their are family lovers and love to spend time with their love ones

1st house ruler in the 8th house means that the native main focus is the transformation, they will evolve and transform a lot of times and going through a lot of stages in life. Rebirthing and learning through the experiences of life

1st house ruler in the 12th house means that the main focus in your life is spirituality and meditation, especially soul healing, tend to have a very powerful intuition and have a very powerful subconscious

- Hello guys 😍 is been a while since i posted my last post so here i am for another post, i love to make those fairy tale inspired aesthetics, a new post a new style kind of thing💕😊!

Love and peace to you all 😊💕 also never forget as i will always say... If you feel this doesn't reasonate with you make sure to check your vedic and sidereal charts💕!

If you need help with that 1st house ruler thing in my post I'm here to help you! 😊💕

1st house ruler in the 4th house. = What's your rising bestie? Let's say for this post that I'm an Pisces Rising (i love you all Pisces Risings so much, I'm rooting for you)

Pisces Rising = Pisces first house (Ruled by Neptune/Jupiter) now watch where Neptune and Jupiter are in your chart 😊if they are located in the 4th house this thing will be called (1st house ruler {Neptune, Jupiter} in the 4th house 😊💕! And the things goes on for the other placements!

If you are a Pisces Rising but you have Neptune in your 7th house that is called (1st house ruler in the 7th house) !💕😊

My 1st house ruler is located in the 1st house (Basically i have the ruler of the ascendant in the 1st house) in my tropical and in my sidereal is located in the 7th house, where is your 1st house located?

Maybe this can help you if you are new to astrology and want to learn about the house rulers 💋!

Harmoonix 💋

[xinmin-exe]

Safe Wording with the League

League of Villains Reacting to You Safe Wording

Characters: Dabi, Shigaraki, Compress, Twice, Toga with female!reader

Warnings: overstimulation, biting kink, sir/master kink, role playing, dom/sub themes, sex toys, oral (female receiving), degradation, edging, begging(?) , mentions of knife and blood play, alluding to past traumas (let me know if I missed warnings)

Note: practice safe sex, and talk about safe words and boundaries if you need to

Dabi

Dabi and you typically have fairly intense sex anyways

But tonight, dabi and you were going pretty hard

Dabi had been eating you out for a while now

“What a little slut, can’t even handle my teasing”

By this point, you had cum more times than you could count, crying and overstimulated

“No more.. please” but all dabi did was smirk before assaulting your swollen cunt even more

You tried pushing his head away but his grip on your thighs only tightened

Before dabi could even come up with some snarky remark, you safe worded out

He almost didn’t hear you, almost

But he did, and stopped before sitting up and looking at your crying face

He didn’t know how to feel, you had never safe worded before and hell if he knew what to do

He got up and left to get a rag to help clean you up and got you come clothes and blankets

Once he was finished, he got you a glass of water and sat next to you on the bed

“Need anything else?” His eyes were planted on your crying face as you tried to form a sentence

You sleepily shook your head as Dabi settled into bed next to you and wrapped an arm around you

Shigaraki

Shigaraki liked to play the Master with you as a servant or maid, or even sometimes a pet

Tonight was no different, but unlike the other times Shigaraki was already having a bad day 

Unfortunately for you, it meant taking his anger out on you while doing the deed 

Now, neither of you have ever shied away from degradation before but something about Shigaraki’s tone made it feel real 

Like he actually saw you as all the things he claimed you were and that was too much 

The moment he heard you safe word, his body stopped and his mind raced 

Did he do something wrong? Were you okay?? 

Almost immediately his hand reached down to your cheek/neck as he pulled out and pulled you into a sitting position

For once in his life he felt like the world ended 

He didn’t know what to say, but he knew how to take care of you and that’s what he did 

cleaning you up and making sure you were warm and in all the clothing you found the most comfortable

The night ended with the two of you wrapped up in each other 

you both had a serious talk in the morning about what happened and how to prevent it later in life 

Mr. Compress

Out of all of the people in the league, Compress knew where the line in the sand was, even without you two talking about boundaries 

He had a couple partners in the past that had become sexual and given his theatrical personality, he always made sure to talk about safe words and the such 

You were no different and he valued your input and your opinions

You had used your safe word in the past so he knew what you needed

But he is a gentleman first and foremost so he cleaned you up carefully before tending to other things

Need a bath? He’s already getting out your favorite candles

Need some time to recover and decompress? Done! He’s right there, holding you and letting you do your thing in comfortable silence

Need reassurance? This man has you covered. He’ll praise you and promise you that you did nothing wrong and that he’s proud of you for safe wording

Overall, compress is the best person to safe word with

Twice

With twice, it’s a bit difficult to get intimate with him

Yes, he finds you attractive (who wouldn’t find you attractive??) but with his spilt personality it can be hard

But you don’t mind the challenge, and even encourage both of “him” to engage in play

While this is a bit tricky to navigate the first coupes of times, you do get the hang of it.

Though, sometimes his other side does take it too far

Sometimes even going as far as making twice stop what he’s doing and blurts out something along the lines of “you can never be good enough for us”

And it’s those times when you safe word, which trigger twice into a protector mode

He immediately rushes over to you, gently cradling your head and asking what’s wrong

You two always find yourselves having a long chat that ends with soft kisses and the best cuddles

Toga

Toga doesn’t know what safe words are

Hell, she may not but just doesn’t care

But she cares with you, she cares so much for you and your safety

She even has dull, blunt knives to use with you

She always ensures that you are okay with her biting you or using a knife with you

And, you two have a wonderful, pleasureful experience

Until today, when everything was piling up and up and up until all you could feel was your worries and anxieties

Toga tried to use pleasure as a way to help you destress, which usually worked

But today it had the opposite effect and it only heightened your anxiety

When you safe worded, toga couldn’t believe what she had just heard

She felt.. betrayed almost, she was just trying to help you!

So she left, leaving you to try and clean up by yourself

But compress saw her upset and upon figuring out, told her what to do and how to help

She came back, albeit begrudgingly, and helped clean you up and get you warm

It took a couple of days for her to even talk to you after that, but once you explained what happened she went back to her bubbly, homicidal self.

[grison-in-space]

You know, I've been reading things written by people on the internet for my whole life, or at least my whole life after I was about ten. I'm thirty three now. That means there are people whose words I read on the internet twenty years ago who are presumably still around and occupying the internet—sometimes using names I can recognize from back then, too. (hat tip to my fellow "changing usernames is unnatural actually" brethren; I've only changed one myself twice in the whole world since I was about fourteen or fifteen.)

Sometimes I think about a person I see around occasionally on the internet. That person wrote a story about a character in a rather silly fandom we shared, and I read it as a child just beginning to conceptualize being someone whose opinions might matter. And I remember reading that story at some point, because at that age I had a hyperfixation on that character in that fandom at that time and I read pretty much everything in the genre. I never really got to talk to anyone but the inside of my head about it. My friends didn't read fanfiction, and my parents viewed my reading fanfiction as some kind of depraved, shameful secret. Anyway, I read that story and I remember having some kind of deep realization about how adult humans work while I was reading it.

I learned something about the world from that story. (It was one of those insights that are now so molten alongside my core that it's difficult for me to disentangle them from myself, like "people outside you have their own perspective on your behaviors, but that doesn't mean they have to be right.") And I remember that they know it, because they taught it to me, without meaning to. One of the anonymous impacts on readers that writers never see unless they're extraordinarily lucky.

And I smile, because it's lovely to see them again, and they showed me a skill I still use today. We don't have a relationship of any kind—it would be very difficult to recognize me, I think—but they did me a favor a long time ago. And I remember. Now I get to be reminded that this person still exists, and is still a pretty cool human to be around today, at least for the specific circumstance of internet neighbor. Well, and our modern level of concern about once beloved elders from the distant past going terrifyingly cult-addled and bigoted on short notice.

That has not happened in the slightest. They're just still a pretty nice fandom person who is a bit older than me, who is recognizably the same person they have always been, but more intensely and thoughtfully—like a distilled brandy, not a sour vinegar left out on a countertop too long.

Weirdly, that's a thing I find comforting: this tiny, one way, invisible affection. Every so often I feel this intense affection for a person I've never spoken to or about, because I see them and I love them intensely for a moment and then we both go about our days.

Think about how many interactions you have with people as you go about your day. Wouldn't it be nice to imagine that other people feel like that about you?

I think I'm going to imagine that there's one person that read something I said and thinks that about me. I don't need to ever actually know if it's true: I can just imagine someone who happened to be at a formative moment when they learned something against the background of my words. We'll never know each other as our screennames are lost along the years and we move in and out of touch with parts of ourselves, but we still have that little fond impact on one another, those fingerprints in one another's clay.

It's a nicer world to imagine than the one where no one is paying attention to me, or the only people paying attention to me are mean. And there's really no way to ever know for sure, so why not inhabit the pleasant end of the imaginatory pool if you can?

[prettyboykatsuki]

“Their bodies fitting together like they always were intended to become one.” - with my pookie…u already know him…pretty please…

✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader (use of word cunt), dry-humping (my dearly beloved), purple prose about astarions general neediness, smut is very light but there so 18+

✮ a/n ; sorry about this tumblr user nanamimizz. dont yell at me

The tightness in Astarion's chest takes permanent residency. Love is, decidedly, not for him.

He lets his eyes wash over your expression in the moonlight. Your own are blown wide, tinged with embarrassment about the state of affairs. Astarion would prefer to tease you about this. Make an off-handed comment about such a thing, the kind that leaves you pouting and huffing. You like when he does this, calls to your own bids for connection. Makes you feel desired. The kind of thing that gives him an edge over you.

But he can't, at least not tonight. His own expression would betray him instantly he knows, because it has been a long time since he's seen you. He's glad to have saved the world, glad to have been at risk of a parasitic infection. He met you during that.

But your likeness becoming the cities strength takes more of a toll on him than he cares to admits. Sometimes he won't see you for a tenday, and you can only return to each other briefly. In moments like those, it's difficult for Astarion to think clearly. He allows himself to wash away in your attention. To lay in it quietly, without taking.

He is strangely afraid of his desires. It's something that's easy to forget, somehow. Odd, since Astarion knows so clearly what he does not want. Wanting is a different affair. Desire is something so heavy he cannot shoulder it on his own, despite thinking he understood his so well.

Astarion cannot put any specifics to the intangible desires. He wants you somehow. In some way that makes his own body feel hot despite running so cold.

It's not lust. Just want. No more than want. A want to take.

A want so intense, he can't muster up the words to cause you fluster or strife. Even as a student of deception, the desire to be entangled with you is so great the words do not make it out.

Your hand reaches for his shoulder, squeezes thoroughly as you lay underneath him. The firelight warms you, casts a gold to your skin that makes his breath hitch.

"You're staring an awful lot," You say, a characteristic coquettish quality in your voice that Astarion only really likes on you "Is something the matter?"

"It's been a long while, my dear." He replies, raking his eyes over you. Eyes wide and... beautiful and perhaps easy "I wondered if you'd abandon me,"

"Please don't say such a terrible thing," You scoff, frowning "As if I could do something like that."

Right. As if you could.

"Is something on your mind?," You ask, noticing his distance "I'm more than happy to just lay with you."

"And leave you high and dry? Surely you don't think so little of me, darling?" He proclaims, dramatic and overstated. He masks his fondness, waits till your giggling with your eyes closed to smile "It's fine. Really."

You mumble something of him being sure. He tries not to let it bury him, instead opting to shift you until your legs are more open. Until he can press himself against your clothed sex, his own cock pressed. Hard and desperate against the warm, wet outline of your cunt. You squeak, nearly try to shuffle away.

But Astarion holds your hips, lets himself rut into you. He sinks into the desire, into his own want - sucking air between the sharp space between his teeth as you moan so desperately from the friction. That friction alone could bring you to orgasm makes his head feel light

. Over and over, until you're whining so beautifully. Like you need him.

Maybe Astarion can list one of his desires. He likes when you need him, at least half as much as he needs you.

"Like I told you so valiantly," His breath is shorter as he wraps your legs around his waist, lets his teeth brush against your neck "It's fine. I'm more interested in this."

You whine, your eyes fluttering open - mouth widened like you'll drool from so little. Terribly sensitive to the touch, Astarion can't help but push his hips up into you again. Desire to make you needy, make you feel pleasure that he knows he is able to provide. He can give you this much.

Your bodies fit together so perfectly. Limbs entangled and twined together between long, panting breaths. Like they were also so perfectly intended to lock with each other, become one in a way he damn near finds righteous.

You look up at him with a look so dazed he laughs in how sorry he feels. His hand grips around your waist, face buried into your shoulder.

"Don't fret, my love," He hums, soft "I can't wait much longer than this, either."

[save-the-villainous-cat]

hero with chronic pain 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Some days were worse than others.

The hero couldn't recall the last time they actually felt alright. One moment had changed everything, had bound them to a wheelchair for weeks and now that they could finally walk a little, they dreamt of hope. But it wasn't alright, in fact, they were quite far away from it.

At first, forgiveness had been out of the picture entirely. They wouldn't forgive the villain, no matter how many flowers they brought and despite the daily visits. The hero had told them several times that they didn't want them in their hospital room but the villain had come anyway, begging for forgiveness. A few times they had actually cried and they had looked so rough that the hero had forgotten all their anger for a second.

But it had taken time to come to terms with their new reality, with the pain and the villain's presence. The villain, who was trying everything in their power to make the hero's life easier now. Many times they had told them it was an accident, that they hadn't expected the hero to show up that evening.

Sometimes, the hero doubted their good intentions. However, eventually they had forgiven them.

"How are you doing?" they asked.

"My doctor said I should take it easy. Less walking." The hero shrugged and closed their eyes. A few weeks ago, the hospital had allowed them to go back home. It was strange, though. They had gotten used to the steril smell and the blinding LEDs.

"Are you still pushing yourself?" the villain asked, "I thought we made it clear that you need to rest between physical acitivies."

"It doesn't matter if I rest or not, I am still in pain," the hero answered. They were beyond frustrated. They should've been on the city's rooftops by now, capturing criminals left and right.

"It'll get worse if you start jumping around. Or it'll never go away." The villain's eyes were on the hero, focused and intense. They looked concentrated and determined. Every now and then, the hero had noticed their little habits. Biting their lip when they were nervous, fidgeting hands when they were embarrassed, awkward laugh when there was silence. The hero had thought they would never forgive them but they were wrong about that.

"I don't wanna argue with you. I would lose anyway," the hero said and waved their hand to make sure the villain would realise that they wanted to move on with the conversation. "You're right."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I mean, you're doing pretty much everything. Cleaning, cooking, groceries. I don't know what else I could ask for."

"Do you need more time alone? Or do you need someone else to talk to? Maybe I could invite some of your friends. But I don't think they would like to see me. So, maybe I should stay at my place when they're here. I don't think they know what to do when your leg gets worse or when you need help though, so maybe I should stay close? So you can call me when you need me? Maybe?" Lip biting. The hero smiled.

"That's very sweet of you. I don't think I'm quite ready to see my friends again, though."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a superhero and I'm not supposed to be weak," the hero said. They could feel a sharp pain travelling down their back, setting their spine on fire. Again, they closed their eyes and tried to ignore it as best as they could. Sometimes, they would wake up in the middle of the night because of the pain, tossing and turning in bed with tears running down their cheeks.

A couple of times, they had called the villain. It wasn't that surprising that they would show up as quickly as they could.

"You're not weak, you're recovering from an injury most people wouldn't have survived."

"Either way, I don't want any of them to see me this vulnerable," the hero responded. "It's still a little difficult for me to accept."

The hero thought about their next words carefully. They were sure the villain was aware that there was something else behind the hero's behaviour. Something the hero hadn't told anyone yet. It wasn't easy for the hero to admit but right now, the villain was the only one who cared like no other.

"Being a hero is kind of the only thing I have. I'm not good at anything else. I'm not a genius, I'm not an artist, I am not too big on sports. I don't have a skill, I don't have any talents. It's the only thing I am relatively good at and now I am...nothing. I'm this broken thing that's useless. I need to be a hero again. I need to fight again."

There was silence. No awkward laugh. The villain's eyebrows knitted together and the hero realised that they weren't too happy with that observation.

"You know, you say that as if it's a well-known fact. But you do have talents. You're great with kids, you're great at speeches, the way you think is astounding. You notice things no one else does. You're a social person, you're a kind person. Skills have to be mastered and you've mastered being a decent human being. You're not useless. You're kind of everything to me." The villain looked at their hands. Sometimes the hero wondered what had happened if they hadn't been injured. Would they still fight each other? Would they have killed each other? "So, allow yourself to rest. I still need you."

The hero only noticed now that it was pretty hot in their living room. They had never noticed these things nor thought about it in that way but the villain was someone so close yet out of reach. Maybe they were right, maybe they were exaggerating. Whatever it was, the hero wanted more of it. Out of the villain's mouth, this sounded like a confession.

"I'm not perfect."

"I disagree," the villain said. "You forgave me when you had no reason to. I admire that. But let's not argue and let me help you with your back."

For some reason, the villain always knew when the hero was in pain and trying to hide it. This time, the hero was a little more flustered than usual and as they tried to fall asleep on their bed that evening, the villain's words echoed in their mind.

[spidervee]

just a little spicy!seresin because it’s Saturday and we all need more Jake in our lives 🌻 18+ Jake seresin x fem!reader smut; fwb; sex; praise kink; dirty talk

“You look so pretty, sweetheart,” Jake grins down at you, the heft of his body over yours, so close you can feel the heat radiating off his skin.

“Stop,” you whine, a hand coming up to cover your face. Suddenly you’re embarrassed. It’s not the first time Jake and you have taken a tumble between the sheets, but each time he gets soft with you, makes you imagine this might ever be more than a friends who sometimes fuck situationship, you feel the need to curl into yourself, to hide from how badly you want that.

“C’mon,” Jake breathes out a laugh and gently pulls your hand away so he can look into your eyes, gaze intense as it meets yours. “I see you baby girl, I see you. Don’t be shy.”

You decide to save face by playing coy, closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip. “Can’t help it,” you whisper, threading your free hand through the hairs at the nape of Jake’s neck. He shifts slightly between your legs, his cock rubbing up against your bare core, movement easy through your slick.

Jake makes a noise somewhere deep in his throat—a grunt of amusement—before he places a soft kiss on your forehead. “You gonna make this difficult, hm?”

You only groan in response as his fingers leave heated trails over your skin, journeying down, tweaking your nipples, splaying a large hand over your belly, pinching your hips, circling your clit.

“Y’know what I’m gonna do now, sweetheart?” Jake is teasing, his voice deep and dripping with the lilt of his Texan roots. You manage a nod, but Jake makes a tutting sound and you open your eyes to watch him. He repeats his question with a particularly firm press to your clit. Your back arches up and he grins like the devil.

“Fuck me,” you breathe, “You’re gonna fuck me.”

“Good girl,” Jake sighs, positioning himself at your entrance. “So good for me.” He slips in slowly, every inch of him making you ache deliciously, filling you like he was made to be there, inside you, as close as possible.

With his hips flush against yours, Jake gives you a moment to adjust before you wiggle under his grip and whine, urging him to move. Each thrust is quick and hard, followed by the throbbing drag of him as he pulls out agonizingly slow. He helps you rest your legs on his shoulders, his hands on your hips.

“Lift.” Jake’s instruction is short and direct and you listen automatically, lifting your hips. His hands splaying out on your ass, holding you up as he continues to pump in and out of you with abandon.

“Touch yourself.” Another instruction, another immediate response. Your hand moves down to where your body is melded with Jake’s and you feel heated as he watches your fingers work alongside his cock. He continues to whisper how good you are and it doesn’t take you long to unravel around him, making him throw his head back at the pulsing of your cunt. Your legs are shaking, knees quivering, and it feels like you’re going to fall into the mattress, but Jake is still there, still holding you.

“I got you, baby,” he whispers, still fucking you through your high, “I got you.”

[anxious-witch]

Part two of this analysis aka Edwin, Charles and asexuality and why I personally like hcing Charles under the ace umbrella rather than Edwin.

Previous part was about why I don't see Edwin as ace and this one is about why I can see Charles as being on ace/ace spectrum.

So, you might be thinking, what the hell is he talking about? Charles clearly flirts with Crystal from the start and is attracted to her!

And to that, I say, yes....and no. He flirts with her from the start, absolutely! I'd even say he likes her immediately and think she is pretty. But given we aren't in his head, we can't really know exactly what he thinks. His reaction certainly isn't as extreme as the one Edwin has to the Cat King, which clearly showed instant sexual attraction.

So, the way I see it, I think he likes Crystal and very quickly develops a crush on her. But those are romantic feelings, not sexual ones. And we all know how intense Charles' feelings are, especially when it comes to devoting himself to someone.

"He literally agrees about being a nice addition to her body count! And he seems to know ghosts and human can have sex!" Yeah. Which is why A) I hc him as demisexual aka only feeling sexual attraction when he already has feelings for someone and B) as an ace person myself, believe me when I say that researching sex as a concept by an ace person is not uncommon. It's interesting part of human experience, whenever you wish that for yourself or not.

But I digress. Back to my point and that is, when does Charles seem to kiss (and if you believe they slept together after that one scene)? When one or both of them are in need of comfort.

We know Charles is physically affectionate person in general, so while I understand the whole thing was muddled with him and Crystal, I do find it odd he never kissed her due to being excited, or relieved. It would be so very in character for him and yet??? We see them kiss, if I remember correctly, after Charles has his breakdown over not being able to stop anything or after the Devlin's house? I mixed up those two in my head but regardless-it's a form of comfort. You know how a lot of ace people who like sex describe why they like it? Because it makes them feel closer to their partner, because yes, the sex itself is enjoyable, but there is no need for it, no attraction to spur it on. But when you care about the person, you want to make them feel good and you want to feel closer to them.

So for Charles, who constantly craves positive validation, especially through touch? I feel like he'd be either sex positive ace or as I mentioned earlier, demisexual. He doesn't seem spurred by it by attraction.

Hell, after Crystal has a nightmare, what is his first instinct? To kiss her. Because he feels helpless with how to help her other than get her closer to him! But , no offense to Crystal, I find it a bit difficult to believe Charles looked at her in that moment, traumatized by the nightmare and thought "god you look so hot right now I have to kiss you".

And again, we see this repeated when Crystal is about to leave for London and she kisses him goodbye. They never kiss as a consequence of something happy. Which yes, can definitely be contributed to the general narrative of that relationship likely being there as more of a comfort but still.

When we talk about headcanon sphere, because I don't pretend like the writers planned on making Charles ace coded, I think it would make sense.

Also why he doesn't clock Edwin's meeting with the Cat King for what they are! He is suspicious, we could even say he is jealous, but up until Edwin doesn't bring up his feelings for Monty, Charles doesn't connect the two. Which I find odd. Charles doesn't seem surprised that Edwin is gay, so how did he not make a connection about the Cat King until that moment?

Unless he usually connects sex with romantic feelings! Of course, he knows other people sometimes don't but surely not Edwin? Surely Edwin would think like Charles and want to love someone before feeling any sort of attraction? Right? Right??

Wrong. You sir, give strong demi vibes.

No but in all seriousness, I feel like Charles being demi/ace doesn't have a lot of uncomfortable implications that Edwin does? And it doesn't play into the stereotypes either. Why not hc someone flirty and easygoing as ace for a change?

Not to mention that he can be flippant around sex because that's what's expected. We know Charles is not above putting up a front if it makes it easier for everyone around him. To feel accepted.

So he likes a girl. She is pretty and powerful and she alive. Of course he is attracted to her. It's natural. That's how attraction is meant to feel like. Right?

And especially with demi hc, I feel like that fits very well bc he is used to having to "convince" himself before he feels the attraction.

Another cool point I could see being raised is how, he thinks Edwin isn't interested in anyone for the longest time, so Charles in turn, fully turns out any possible romantic feelings for him. And in turn then, he never think he can be attracted to Edwin because he could be like oh! No romantic feelings? No attraction either. Cool!

But yeah. Again, just hcs in general, but if we are talking about making someone ace, I feel like Charles is a more logical than Edwin, personally

[razzle-dazzle-writes]

Going Down on Them feat. Weiss, Winter, Cinder & Pyrrha

Weiss Schnee

Oral is one of the parts of sex that Weiss enjoys the most. There's a deep intimacy to be found in it for her which only adds to the pleasure it brings her on its own.

She doesn't force you to go down on her, but doesn't make it a secret how much she enjoys it. Both in the moment and afterwards you are made well aware of how much she enjoys cunnilingus.

She keeps herself completely bare. She finds that shaving is the simplest and cleanest option that the both of you can be happy with for going down on her.

A small bit of teasing doesn't go amiss in the moment. Kisses on her thighs, taking your time to reach her cunt. Building the anticipation only makes things more sweet for her when she finally is given what she wants.

As soon as your tongue begins work she has her hand at her lips, trying to contain the loud expressions of pleasure that emanate from deep within her. She can't help it, she just loves being eaten out.

She'll lay on her back at the edge of the mattress and let you do as you please. She usually gives up trying to dampen her moans pretty quickly, the sounds dripping from her lips to encourage you further.

Her body trembles every time your tongue passes over her clit, the small bump sending waves through her. Her slick walls quiver at your touch, the juices brought forward from arousal leaking from her entrance.

Weiss doesn't have a whole lot of stamina, it doesn't take more for a couple of minutes of oral service for her to come onto your tongue and lips. Deep breaths bringing her chest up and down as she comes down from the intensity of her orgasm.

She likes to kiss you afterwards to show her affection and appreciation, even if her come is still covering your lips, she doesn't mind enough to stop her.

Winter Schnee

Winter has a stressful job that puts a lot of weight on her shoulders day in and day out. A lot of nights when she finally has the chance to retreat to your quarters she's stressed or tired. Sometimes, being able to take a moment to stop and maybe get eaten out is just what she needs.

She'll never say anything, but it isn't difficult to tell when she wants you to go down on her. She'll greet you before collapsing onto the bed, too exhausted to do anything else for the moment. Read into what she wants in the moment how you will, but going down on her is usually a pretty good answer.

She doesn't stop you when your fingers hook around the waistband of her underwear and pull them down her legs so that you can spread her thighs to get closer to her cunt.

Her let down hair spreads out beneath her as her tired body lets itself relax for the first time in what seems like an eternity. She groans unashamedly in relief, the tension in her body slowly releasing while your tongue spreads her open.

She keeps her pubic hair neatly trimmed and controlled, she isn't completely bare but you'll almost forget that there's any while you're tongue fucking her cunt.

Winter has a deep-seeded sense of pride even during intimate moments between the two of you, her vocal expressions are restrained and controlled. She doesn't speak while you eat her out, keeping herself to quiet sighs and breaths of pleasure.

Her typical exhaustion will in most cases have her leaving the work to you, she knows that you understand what she wants and she doesn't need to intervene to control you to reach a satisfying orgasm.

Winter's stamina is slightly above that of the average person but is by no means remarkable. One orgasm after a few minutes of attention from your tongue and fingers is enough to leave her content and far less stressed than she was beforehand whether she feels the desire for further physical intimacy or not.

Any thanks she gives you afterwards is short and simple, Winter isn't one to waste words. Still, the understanding between the two of you that she greatly appreciates the small effort to help her out after a long day remains ever present.

Pyrrha Nikos

Pyrrha, even some time into your relationship, feels awkward asking you to do something solely for her pleasure and therefore a lot of the times you go down on her will be reading in the moment what she wants.

She never stops you however, any time you sink to your knees to eat her out she happily accepts your affections with an a appreciative smile on her lips.

Whether she's sweaty and showering after a training session, already naked and anticipating in the throes of passion or just taking the rare chance to stay in bed for the morning with no responsibilities for the day, she'll always eagerly accept the chance to receive cunnilingus.

Pyrrha is quite laid back in shaving her pubic hair. She keeps it in control for the most part, but she is certainly not shaved bare either. Something about the sight of your lips pressed to her hairy cunt lights a fire inside of her. Whether the carpet matches the drapes is something I'll leave to your imagination.

No matter the position, she will have a hand on your head, fingers tangled through your hair as you eat her out. She doesn't want to control you, but the waves of heat coursing through her wave any inhibitions she may have about restraint.

She mewls and whines loudly through the entirety of your servicing. It brings a bright blush to her cheeks thinking about how shameless she must sound, but she wants to show you how much she enjoys your work and doesn't see the need to hide how she feels between the two of you.

Pyrrha's body is no less subtle in showing how she feels than her voice. Her hips buck whenever your tongue flicks over her clit, her liquid affection drips onto your tongue as it delves into her core and her body shakes as she draws ever closer to her orgasm.

Pyrrha often comes quite quickly. Despite her honed endurance as a fighter she doesn't have that much stamina for sex, the orgasm is enough to satisfy her if it stands alone, though she still has the energy to reach another during penetrative sex if it follows.

She will always thank you afterwards despite your insistence that she doesn't need to, she just feels bad if she doesn't. Please go down on her whenever you have the chance, she really quite enjoys and deserves it :).

Cinder Fall

In all parts of her life Cinder takes what she wants and that has always extended into your sex life. If she wants you to go down on her you will be going down on her, there is no question about it. You're her boyfriend/girlfriend after all, its your job to eat her out whenever she desires it.

Whether the two of you are already in the middle of a moment of intimacy or whether its completely unprompted apart from her deciding she wants it, her way of telling you what you are required to do for her is to push you onto your back.

Cinder more often that not sits on your face, the control it gives her over you gives her a power rush which only feeds her desires farther than they've already grown. In her more vulnerable hours, such as when she was debilitated after Beacon, there's more of an ability to let you be in control of the flow of things however.

Cinder does not shave her pubic hair. Maybe she'll give it some attention every now and then when it gets too out of hand but never is she bare. She does not take suggestions on this topic either, in her own words "get used to it".

She is very vocal while you eat her out. Not so much in sounds but in the river of expletives that come out of her lips. She talks the entire time she's atop you, muttering her praises of your efforts amidst all the "fuck"s coming forth.

Cinder doesn't tell you want she wants, she knows at this point that you understand her desires, additionally her sitting on your face gives her more agency in controlling the pleasure being given to her. She grinds her cunt over your mouth as she pleases, pulling herself up to let you take a moment is a rare luxury.

There is no impulse of self control inside of Cinder and she will work in conjunction with your tongue with her hip movements to orgasm as soon as she is able to. Her stamina is also quite impressive, often she will immediately keep the cunnilingus in motion for a second time if not switching the two of you into something else.

When she does come it is very noticeable, both in the trembling that runs through her body, the further streaming expletives flowing from her mouth and the aggressive, sudden rush of liquid that she releases atop your lips.

Cinder isn't really one to say thank you, firstly because her stamina usually means that your physical intimacy isn't over for the time being and because her ego holds her back from expressing genuine appreciation. Still, she tells you how beautiful you look beneath her with your tongue buried in her cunt and in her more vulnerable moments that she loves you.

[coloursflyaway]

Won’t Fear Love (2/6)

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.500

Read on AO3

„We should go a date“, Charles says on a perfectly bland Tuesday, looking up at Edwin from whatever he is doing at the moment. If Edwin wasn’t dead already, he would suspect that Charles is trying to kill him. or: Five times Charles takes Edwin on a date to figure out if he could fall in love with him, and one time when he has an answer.

tagging all the lovely people who wanted to give this fic a read: @itsablueberrycow @piristephes @assignedpeanutallergyatbirth @mylu @oneweirdbean @lifeinvirtualreality

“A movie?”, Edwin asks, and Charles nods, almost a little too enthusiastic. He is aware that Charles enjoys movies quite a lot, and Edwin has to admit that there have been those that also captured Edwin’s imagination, but…

“Is that not quite antithetical to the idea of a date?”, he asks, slightly puzzled. Granted, he doesn’t have much experience, but it seems like a pastime that decidedly doesn’t invite conversation. “I was under the impression that dating was mainly about getting to know someone, not sitting next to them in silence while being entertained by something external from both of you.”

His confusion is obviously highly entertaining to Charles, who starts laughing even before Edwin has finished speaking. “Edwin, mate. That’s the most you thing you could have possibly said”, he explains while still chuckling, and Edwin would be miffed, if Charles didn’t sound so fond while saying it. “I’m pretty sure the point of it is to talk about the movie afterwards. And, you know. Maybe hold hands in the dark or something.”

“But I will know what you will think about the movie”, Edwin answers, still befuddled, and resolutely ignores the implication of holding hands, because even if it is, of course, impossible, he feels like he is blushing just thinking about it. On cases, they have held hands before, for spells or as not to lose each other in the dark, but that was before. Now, it would mean something, and now, he cannot even consider it without wanting it with an intensity that is almost frightening.

“Oh, I know”, Charles replies and he’s still smiling, still sounds fond. “That’s exactly why I want to take you to see one.”

Charles, of course, takes him to see a movie. He is excited about it, too, to the point where Edwin cannot even pretend to mind it, because his eyes are glowing with joy when Edwin eventually agrees to it, because he talks Crystal into getting them physical tickets (“So we can keep them, of course! I think that would be nice, having something to remember our second date by, don’t you, Edwin?”), because he dresses up nice again, as if his state of dress could ever matter to Edwin. And, of course, because of one very simple reason: he genuinely seems to want to take Edwin out on a date.

Although he tries his best not to take it too seriously, since Charles just gets like this sometimes, excited and almost overwhelming in his happiness, it’s difficult not to when it’s this. Because the thought that maybe, just maybe, Charles thought the first time he took Edwin out was a success (he cannot bring himself to call it a date, not now, maybe not ever), is almost too much to bear.

The thing is, Edwin never expected Charles to reciprocate his feeling.

Looking back, he isn’t even sure if it was part of his thought process, if he considered the possibility before he was standing on the steps to Hell, looking at Charles and thinking, I’m so glad he knows he’s loved.

So, the thought that Charles is considering it, giving it a chance, giving Edwin a chance, is almost unfathomable.

And yet, Charles is standing in front of him, the biggest smile on his face, because he gets to take Edwin out again. It’s very difficult not to hope at least a little.

“You alright there, mate?”, Charles asks, brows furrowed, and Edwin realises he must have spaced out for a few moments. He should say no, be honest, but instead he nods so he can watch the smile bloom again on Charles’ face. “Aces”, Charles says and he is right, it is aces, it’s magnificent, it’s brills, it’s every other positive adjective Edwin can think of, because they are on a date together and Charles is looking at him like he really wants to be here.

In the end, Edwin can’t even remember the title of the movie, nor the contents of it (there were explosions in it, he’s fairly certain, one or two scenes that made Charles chuckle), and not for not trying, either. It’s not his fault at all, in fact, that he hardly paid attention to any of it, but Charles’.

For not even five minutes into the film, Charles had taken his hand. Not to show Edwin something, not to drag him somewhere, but just sitting there, Charles had taken his hand and woven their fingers together like he didn’t mean to let go and then he just… hadn’t. Instead, he had held Edwin’s hand for the entirety of it, sometimes squeezing it, presumably if something exciting was happening on screen.

Which Edwin wouldn’t, couldn’t have noticed, because, well. Because Charles had been holding his hand. It had been the strangest thing, because it had felt so natural, like something they had been doing for decades; because it had felt like the single most thrilling thing to happen to Edwin in the entirety of his existence.

Of course, he couldn’t really feel Charles’ fingers in his, but he knew them to be there anyway, like he could feel Charles’ energy brushing up against his, and it had been… glorious. It had been warm and familiar and electrifying, and more than enough to make focussing on anything else impossible, lest he miss a second of it.

Which poses one unfortunate problem: Charles asks him about the film when they are leaving the theatre amidst the crowd, a stranger’s arm phasing through the graceful arch of his shoulder.

“Well”, Edwin starts, certain that if he had the appropriate anatomy still, he would be blushing. “I am not entirely certain, I’m afraid. It seems I was a little… compromised during it.”

He cannot say it out-loud, so instead, he just raises their hands, because their fingers are still intertwined, and Charles stops moving in the middle of the hallway to look at him. Edwin stops, too, can’t really do anything but that, unless he lets go of Charles’ hand.

“You don’t know if you liked the movie because we were holding hands during it?”, Charles asks to clarify, sounding amazed and slightly disbelieving still. And Edwin has to nod, and although it should be humiliating, it isn’t, because Charles’ fingers tighten around his reflexively, almost like he doesn’t want to let go, either. His lips part as if he wanted to say something, but then Charles just ducks his head, smiling, before he looks up at Edwin a few seconds later.

“That’s pretty cute, actually”, he states like it’s a confession of some sort, and Edwin’s very soul seizes up, curls around that word. Cute. “And, like. I enjoyed it, too. It’s nice, feeling that you’re next to me.”

And when Edwin doesn’t answer, because how could he, when he wouldn’t be able to remember how to breathe if he still had to do so, he squeezes Edwin’s hand again, deliberately this time. “But don’t worry, mate. You would have hated it anyway.”

“You know, I was thinking, maybe we should make this a more regular thing”, Charles says when they are walking home, because Charles is still insisting on this, and if Edwin is honest to himself, he finds that he doesn’t mind. It’s a nice thought that Charles might not want to let the evening end, because Edwin feels the same, and not only because they are still holding hands. “What do you mean?”

Charles grins and Edwin is so weak around him, it’s preposterous. But then again, maybe it’s not his fault, maybe it’s just Charles, maybe everyone around them feels like their knees might give out under them when Charles smiles at them like this. He’ll have to ask Crystal about that in a quiet moment.

“You know, give it some regularity. We could do every second Wednesday of the month”, Charles replies easily, “Gives me a bit of time to plan and you won’t have to look like a very frightened deer every time I bring it up.” Again, that smile, so bright it almost lets Edwin forget to be offended.

“I absolutely do not look like a deer in any way whatsoever”, he still shoots back, even if a moment too late. He has a reputation to uphold after all. “You kind of do, though”, Charles tells him, his nose scrunching up a little. “It’s cute. But I would rather have you not scared, so what do you say? Monthly date nights?”

There it is again, that word. Cute. Edwin tries his best not to think too much of it, lest he stop thinking about anything else.

“That would be agreeable”, he replies. Cute. “Is there a reason for it to be the second Wednesday?” And Charles reacts like he has been shot, putting one hand across his unbeating heart and pulling a face, eyebrows drawn together like Edwin has wounded him deeply.

“Edwin”, he all but whines, looking at him with wide brown eyes, glittering with mirth in the glow of the street lights. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our first date already! That was on the second Wednesday. As is this one, actually.”

And he’s right; it’s the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for him, and Edwin grips Charles’ hand as tightly as he can, and tries his best to think anything but please, let me have this. I’ll never ask for anything else. Just this.

[shirefantasies]

All the Pretty Things- Eowyn x F!Neurodivergent!Reader (Drabble)

Happy birthday to me 🥳😁 25 feeling alive man hence the self-indulgent fic only I can relate to 😂

“And it can be done so simply?”

“If you know how,” you replied with a nod, turning your tool in your hand as you glanced up to Eowyn.

Altering jewelry had become a hobby of yours- what had started as a simple habit to craft things according to your desire had blossomed into something which surprised and sometimes even delighted others who found out about it. It brought a shaky smile to your face how something which could bring about discomfort could also arouse wonder. After all, the day you lost a ring was burned in your memory.

~

All your friends had looked at you with confusion, question, or even a lost disillusion in your eyes when you asked for something to put about your finger. Waved your hand a bit, unable to concentrate on much beyond the naked, bare feeling.

Until Eowyn. Smiling, she tied a bit of twine about your finger and gave you the kindest blue eyes as she asked if it was better. Of course it was. Immeasurably. In every way. Feeling understood nearly surpassed the utter clarity and relief rushing to your heart and mind, your whole body metaphorically sighing.

“I know it isn’t the same as the one you lost,” she begun, but you cut her off.

“It was just an old clay one someone had made. We are not even in touch,” you shook her head, smiling in a way you hoped was half as reassuring as hers, “This one is better.”

Body language was difficult to read, but had you spotted a sigh of hers, too?

~

And there you were forward in time and joy, for it had been indeed. Somehow by the blessing of some force beyond your comprehension she returned your feelings. That strong, dedicated, fearless woman. One who was so many things you could not help feeling you weren’t.

And yet you were enough. Enough and willing to work to maintain that every day, even through little things like redesigning Eowyn’s old pieces. It felt symbolic to you both, in all honesty: she enjoyed watching you loosen and remove pieces, keep only the ones that mattered. Add new charms of beauty to a fine, yet alterable, foundation.

Her hand rested on your shoulder as you worked, breaking, bending, and completing.

“It’s beautiful,” Eowyn told you as you finished, gently lifting the necklace to dangle over her hand, “Why, you could add it to your shelf if you wished!”

“Don’t you think my shelves are full enough?”

“Not until you do.” Squeezing your shoulder, she slid her grip down to take your hand.

Her gaze, beautiful and blue as it was, was intense. Glancing away for a moment, you smiled down upon your work table and collected yourself, tightening your own grip upon her hand. Her skin felt cold compared to yours which had been at work- just as you wanted it. She had well earned the rest. For all Eowyn’s noble blood, after all, idleness never suited her. No, she was far better with a sword.

Feeling a flush at the memories of her in armor, you brought your gaze back up to meet hers; she was still beaming down at your seated form.

“You don’t mind it all?”

“My darling,” Eowyn simply laughed, a sound musical to your ears as ever, “Who can fault you for finding beauty in the world? You see it in places others do not.”

Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to your lips, deepening it when she felt you smile against her. Neither of you separated until all the air had left you, forcing you apart by sheer necessity. Even then Eowyn kept her forehead against yours, an earnest grin of you across her face as you tied the necklace around her.

“You deserve all the pretty things,” she whispered, breath tickling your cheeks.

“No wonder I have you, then,” you answered in a whisper of your own, hands holding onto her shoulders.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @evattude @kpopgirlbtssvt @rivendell-poet | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🖤

[tokoyamisstuff]

nsfw hcs for the priest please, if that's okay for you

ya dirty lil' heathens...👀

gn! Reader I general smut/kink warning

A/N: clearing out my drafts to distract myself while on bedrest. so don't be shy, keep the requests coming!

Oh, he's very difficult to convince.

It took an eternity only to accept his feelings for you, but even then he never took it any further than hugging, hand-holding or occasionally a chaste kiss.

Sexuality is highly condemned due to his strict religious background. So he kinda feels like he'd taint you, and he simply values you too much for that.

The temptation definetly is there, though, and it's driving him crazy. His mind constantly wanders off to impure ideas, even without much of your own intervention. Feels very conflicted about it and needs lots of reassurement.

Is most likely demisexual, meaning his physical attration is inevitably tied to his emotional attachment. And since he's hopelessly, completely and utterly in love with you...

Hesitates not only because of his chastity, but this man could quite literally break you like a twig. He always loses his self-restraint when he gets too excited during fights, and figures lust has the same effect. Not that he has any proof, but he's not eager to find out the hard way.

Additionally that man is so touch-starved, he gets turned on by basically anything. Little to no effort from your side involved. Stare at him lovingly for a while and he gets a hard-on. Straddle his lap or kiss him a little more intense and you instantly feel his reaction press to your stomach. Will carefully lift you off of him and preach about your poor seduction attempt, sadly.

Since praying those fantasies away doesn't work he'll resort to masturbating as the lesser evil. Turns out that makes his horniness even worse. Starts disappearing randomly a lot, when it's too much to take - sometimes even mid sermon - and people start to get worried.

Still, that man has an incredible willpower. I feel like you'd need to find the perfect moment for him to give in to his desire, maybe when you caught him in the act or another very vulnerable moment.

Once he finally bends it's like you've opened the Box of Pandora. Man's insateable.

Sneaks his hands under your clothes at every opportunity just to feel your skin, even in public or among others. He's very skilled at going unnoticed. Will pull you into the next secluded place just to violently make out and touch you. Super scared to be caught in the act though.

Everything about that man is huge, but he's incredibly careful and preps you well so don't worry.

Is actually pretty insecure about his body? Pretty sure there's a dad bod under that robe, and he's not the youngest anymore. Kiss his scars and hell whimper. Melts at any praise or affection you offer.

Your body however? Magnificent. Divine. A perfect creation by god. No matter what, everything about it is perfect.

Opposite to public consensus I think he'd never wanna use anything related to his religion or priesthood, it's simply too sacred to him...but on the other hand so are you. Loves worship of your body and soul with both words and actions.

Not very willing to experiment, since the bible doesn't allow anything besides the standard babymaking procedures. At least man's flexible and strong, so you'll be able to try out many different positions.

For the same reason as above, he always finishes inside of you and loves to see the mess he's made. Forbids you from cleaning up and makes you walk around with his cum dripping from your legs.

Easily comes in general, but he's a walking powerhouse and can go as many rounds as you like.

It's not like he doesn't have any other fantasies, he's just very ashamed of them.

Kinda somnophiliac? There's just something innocent about you lying so peacefully next to him that makes his mind go blank. You'll often wake up with his cock buried between your thighs. Always says something like god doesn't look so closely upon sleeping sinners.

Will absolutely implement his other interests in the bedroom, once he gets more comfortable. For example roleplaying that he hunts you down...at some point won't be able to use a bayonet anymore without getting hard. Awkward for his real enemies lol

Has a lot of pent up anger and if youre into that too, he'd love punishment games. Choking, spanking, hair pulling, nothing too wild. Also does vile dirty talk, you'd be shocked the words coming out of this holy priest's mouth. He's a gentle giant, but if you like it too he's definetly able to fuck you as if he hates you. Not a must, though.

Seems to make him way more even-tempered to put his negative energy into making you cum your brains out.

Is a tad bit masochistic too, maybe due to his regeneration. Loves the feeling of your fingernails digging into his back or thighs, drawing blood. Will go insane if you bite him.

Prays before or after and sometimes even during the act. It's still sinful after all.

Expect sublime aftercare. Your well-being is his utmost priority. Also, lots of cuddles! He definetly wants to be the small spoon.