#as the examination progressed it became clear it was slow. and that something had been happening to her at home

[mobbothetrue]

Had a dream I was watching a medical drama that covered really bizarre and obscure cases. I watched multiple episodes but the one I remember the best was this little girl, Holly.

She was at her elementary school, and she had tripped at the exact same time the school cat was lunging forwards to eat a bug— the cat wound up biting her fairly deeply in the skin around her eye.

She wound up infected with mange, and this progressed until the little human girl had been fully morphed into a big fluffy cat. While looking for a cure, it turned out that this was a case with a precedent. And that Holly could never be human ever again.

See, a human consciousness could be flayed down to fit in a cats mind— Holly knew how to eat, to sleep, to live, and in fact still recognized a number of people, but a cat consciousness could not be expanded into a human one. The previous case would up catatonic, and eventually died from shock. Holly was, essentially, dead. This then lead into difficult questions, such as medical care, who would keep her (the parents didn’t want her) and, well… spaying.

The episode was titled Schrödingers Cat.

AND THEN in a THIRD ACT TWIST just as things were beginning to resolve and people were finding peace with cat Holly the SCHOOL DOGS decided to SUE HER. THEY TOOK HER TO COURT. FOR EMOTIONAL DAMAGES.

[elizabethsnuts]

Hey! Could you do a Chicago med x teen daughter one ( either Will or Connor’s daughter) where she plays a sport and goes down injured then tries to finish the game but her coach takes her off then her dad is looking after her while she’s really annoyed that she can’t play?

Injury on Ice

Connor Rhodes x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You hurt your leg while playing ice hockey, but despite the injury, you try to insist you’re fine to keep playing.

———

Connor sat on the cold bleachers, his breath visible in the chilly rink air as he watched his you weave skillfully across the ice. You were a natural, your movements fluid and confident. At just fifteen, you had already gained a reputation as one of the most promising young players on your ice hockey team. Connor couldn't help but feel a swell of pride every time you took to the ice.

Today’s game was especially important, a decisive match that could push your team into the playoffs. Connor cheered along with the other parents, his heart pounding with excitement and anxiety. You had always been tough and resilient, traits you’d undoubtedly inherited from him. As a single parent, he had tried to instil in you the importance of perseverance and determination.

The game was intense, with both teams neck and neck. You had just scored another goal, bringing your team into the lead. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Connor couldn’t help but stand and applaud. But as the game progressed, the competition became fiercer.

Midway through the second period, you were racing down the ice, eyes focused on the puck, when an opposing player came in hard, checking you into the boards. The impact was loud, echoing through the rink. You crumpled to the ice, clutching your leg.

Before the referees could blow their whistles, you were already trying to push yourself up. Your determination was palpable, and Connor could see the tears in your eyes as you gritted your teeth. One of your teammates, Sarah, was watching you trying to stand back up on the ice. You tried to skate, pushing off with your good leg, but your injured leg buckled, sending you back down.

“N/N, stay down!” Sarah’s voice echoed across the rink, but you shook your head, attempting to rise once more.

Connor's heart dropped. He was on his feet in an instant, his breath caught in his throat. He watched as the medics rushed onto the ice, their faces grim. Your coach, Coach Stevens, knelt beside you, speaking softly.

The medics tried to help you to the bench, but you waved off their help, insisting you could stand on your own. Coach Stevens was talking to you, his expression a mix of concern and sternness. Connor could tell you were arguing with him, your determination clear even from a distance.

Finally, the coach made the call. He signalled for a substitution, and you were taken off the ice, your movements slow and painful. You slammed your stick against the boards in frustration, your face a mask of anger and disappointment.

“Stupid game…” You grumbled angrily.

Connor hurried down the bleachers, his mind racing. He found you sitting on the bench, your head in your hands. You looked up as he approached you, your face mixed with anger and pain.

"How bad is it?" Connor asked gently, kneeling beside you.

You shrugged, trying to downplay the injury. "It's fine, Dad. Just a bruise or something. I could have finished the game."

Connor looked at you with a raised eyebrow, clearly not believing you. He examined your leg carefully, noting the swelling and bruising around your knee. "You need to take it easy, Y/N. You might have done some real damage. We need to get this checked out properly."

“Dad, I could’ve finished the game,” You said, your voice thick with emotion. “I was fine. Coach Stevens shouldn’t have pulled me.”

Connor knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his. “Y/N, you took a hard hit. There is no way you can keep playing.”

“I don’t care,” You snapped, pulling your hands away. “I just want to play. This game was important.”

Connor met your gaze steadily. "Your coach did the right thing. Playing through an injury can make it worse, and you know that. You have the playoffs ahead of you. It's not worth risking everything for this."

Your shoulders slumped, your anger giving way to tears. "But I wanted to help my team. I hate sitting out."

Connor wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "I know, sweetheart. I know how much this means to you. But you have to think long-term. Your health is more important than any game. We'll get you patched up, and you'll be back out there soon."

You nodded reluctantly, wiping your tears. " Fine. I guess you're right."

Connor smiled softly. "I always am. Now, let's get you home and ice that leg. I’ll take you to the Med first thing in the morning."

As you left the rink, you leaned on your father's shoulder, your steps careful and slow. Connor felt a pang of empathy for his daughter, remembering his own determination and the hard lessons he'd learned along the way as he grew up. He knew that your spirit would be unbreakable, and with a little time and care, you’d be back on the ice good as new. For now, he would be there to support you, as both a doctor and a father, guiding you through this setback with love and patience.

[dirichletttt]

It's... complicated to boil down Heisenberg to just a Nazi. **To be clear.** Yes, he, like many Germans, was a German nationalist who was dissatisfied at the outcome of WW1, though never formally joining the Nazi Party. However, he also very explicitly supported the works of his Jewish colleagues in relativity and quantum, to the extent that the SS investigated Heisenberg for promoting "Jewish Science" which was built by the likes of Einstein, Schrödinger, Born, etc. From Wikipedia's page on Heisenberg:

"During this time [Heisenberg's candidature for the head of the university at Munich], Heisenberg came under vicious attack by the Deutsche Physik supporters. One attack was published in Das Schwarze Korps, the newspaper of the SS, headed by Heinrich Himmler. In this, Heisenberg was called a "White Jew" who should be made to "disappear". These attacks were taken seriously, as Jews were violently attacked and incarcerated. Heisenberg fought back with an editorial and a letter to Himmler, in an attempt to resolve the matter and regain his honour. ... The three investigators who led the SS investigation of Heisenberg had training in physics. Indeed, Heisenberg had participated in the doctoral examination of one of them at the Universität Leipzig. The most influential of the three was Johannes Juilfs. During their investigation, they became supporters of Heisenberg as well as his position against the ideological policies of the Deutsche Physik movement in theoretical physics and academia."

In some interviews after the war, Heisenberg and many members of the nuclear research group claimed that actually creating a bomb was impossible for Germany at the time (which seems to be true) and that they attempted at directing efforts away from the bomb in the hopes to slow down its progress. This is, of course, to be taken with a grain of salt, as with the words of any scientist who formerly worked under the Nazis. From Heisenberg's interrogation at Farm Hall by the British:

"The whole structure of the relationship between the scientist and the state in Germany was such that, although we were not 100 percent anxious to do it, on the other hand we were so little trusted by the state that even if we had wanted to do it, it would not have been easy to get it through."

This article discusses a book which investigates some of the interviews conducted on the Heisenberg's team post-war. From what I understand, to this day, his loyalty to Germany and his willingness (or lack thereof) to develop the bomb are in question, though there is evidence for and against both.

I am not a historian, just someone who is interested in STEM history. If I have made any factual errors or misrepresented something, please let me know and I will try to amend it.

I really liked Oppenheimer. I know it's not for everyone, but as someone who is interested in STEM and STEM history, especially pertaining to physics, this movie pushed all of the right buttons for me. I think it did a good job at showing just how flawed and utterly human many of these mythologized historical figures were in real life, and how the Manhattan Project was riddled with internal and external political factors from even before its conception.

I also appreciated just how utterly fucking powerful and eldritch they made the bomb. Obviously a significant portion of the movie is dedicated to the creation of the bomb, but it's often sort of a looming figure in the background. It's the increasing number of marbles in the jar, it's the steady theoretical and experimental progress, it's the dropping of dates for those who know the historical timeline of events. And when it's finally revealed, it's Fucking Terrifying. You pretty much never see the full mushroom cloud in frame; it's always a small portion of it or the flash of light shining on our characters. And the sinking feeling you get when the screen is lit up and you just know, you're anticipating that deafening blast from the shockwave because sound travels slower than light. And you feel guilty in a way because you have the privilege of knowing what's coming, while in your mind you know the victims of such devices had no idea before they were either vaporized on the spot or severly traumatized. It conveys so well the perspective of the scientists on the project, that you've challenged god and, although maybe not surpassing it, made something equally as terrifying.

Character-wise, I don't really have much to say. I do like that the latter third of the movie slowed down a lot to focus on the accusations made against Oppenheimer, which helped to flesh out a range of characters who were sort of just set pieces to Oppenheimer himself before the interviews. And despite my previous statement about breaking down the idolization of historical figures, I was indeed excited like a Marvel fan whenever one of my physics blorbos showed up on screen. "Holy shit it's Niels Bohr!!" "omg Edward Lorentz my scrunkly wunkly!!!" "ITS BONGO GUY OMG BONGO GUY I KNOW HIM" like yeah a lot of them turned out to be Not Great People in their personal lives but I can acknowledge that while also geeking out at their recognition in mainstream media.

All in all, very good movie. I intend to watch it with my mom when I get the chance.

[oscar-lettjohanssonloveme]

I dont know whats real anymore (Delia x reader)

warnings: talking about death

You have to take these pills, Y / N .." Cordelia said firmly, holding out the two pills.

She watched the tears well up in your eyes and how you moved as far away from her as you could on the bed. You sat frightened in the corner of the bed, knees wrapped around your chest and your arms around your shoulders.

"Please Cordelia .. I can't .." you whispered.

"Honey, you're sick ... and if you don't take these pills you won't get well ...", her voice softened.

"The doctors said that too .." you whimpered softly and pushed me further into the corner.

The doctors? Cordelia frowned. Four days ago you showed up at the academy in the middle of the night. Your clothes soaked from the rain and tears made their way on your face. You didn't need to be a doctor to predict your cold in advance.

You haven't said much about yourself since you've been here. She knew your name and that you ran away from home. What she also knew was why you had come to the academy; you could talk to the dead and because you could no longer help yourself, you came to her.

"I don't know which doctors you're talking about .." Cordelia began and sat down on the bed. "These two pills only ensure that your fever is lowered and you can sleep ... nothing more .."

"I don't believe you .." you whispered, your eyes glittering. She got up, grabbed the wrapping of the pills, and tossed them into your lap before she sat down again.

"Please .. subsided on your own .." she said and bit her lip.

With trembling hands you examined the packaging and found that Cordelia was right. Without a word, you held out your hand to her and she let the two pills fall into the palm of your hand. She watched with satisfaction as you washed the pills down with a glass of water.

"Thanks Y / N..I just want to help you ..", she said and got up. "You should sleep now and let me know when you wake up .."

As she started to leave, your hand grabbed her wrist. She spun around and looked into your pleading eyes.

"Please don't go .." you whispered. "If you go, they talk to me .."

By they you meant the dead in this house.

Cordelia squeezed your hand gently and gave you a warm smile before she sat in the chair in the other corner of the room. You turned away from her because you were uncomfortable sleeping in front of her, but even with your body against the wall you could feel her gaze on your back and although it made you feel uncomfortable, it was still better than to be yelled by the ghosts of this house. Even now they were standing in this room and whispering things to you. Bad things. But it was much easier to ignore the dead in the presence of someone who couldn't hear them.

Cordelia sat cross-legged in the chair, her head in her hands, and watched your breathing slow down and become a steady rhythm.

After a few minutes, when she assumed you were asleep, she got up and let out a sigh. You had been here for just four days and she could safely say that no one had been this complicated in a long time. The problem was, that she couldn't figure you out and she didn't want to talk to you until you were really healthy.

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

Weeks passed. You got well and started moving around the academy and taking classes. Everyone was nice to you, but you knew that most of them just found you weird for talking to people, that they couldn't see. It was not uncommon to see you arguing with someone who didn't exist to them and of course the other witches thought it was strange. Cordelia had tried to talk to you several times, but you always avoided her and she couldn't explain why.

It was Saturday afternoon and most of the girls weren't home. Cordelia was walking down the corridors of the academy as she often did when she heard your screams.

"Leave me alone .." you screamed.

Alarmed, Cordelia ran to your room and threw the door open.

You stood in the middle of the room with both hands wrapped around a knife and held it trembling in front of you.

"Y / N ..", Cordelia began slowly and entered the room. "Take the knife down .."

"I dont know what's real anymore ..", you sobbed and held the knife to your throat.

"Please Y / N." Cordelia's voice was low as she kept walking towards you. "Look at me, I'm real .." She wanted to grab your hand, but you back away.

"They're yelling at me, Cordelia ... they want me to kill .."

"Who should you kill Y / N?", She was almost in front of you.

"You!" You screamed.

Cordelia stopped. She was confused. "Me?" You nodded. "Yes ... all the others too.. I'm scared ... "

She was standing in front of you and had her hands around your wrists as she led your hand with the knife away from your neck. "I'm so sorry .." you uttered and started to cry. Cordelia, who had taken the knife from your hand, tossed the blade away and wrapped her arms around you.

"You don't have to apologize honey .." she whispered against your ear "Everything will be fine..". Her left hand wandered through your hair while her right pressed you against her.

"I just want to be normal .." you sobbed into her chest.

The next 5 minutes remained like this, you cried yourself in her arms while she whispered the sweet things in your ear.

When your crying subsided, she pulled back to study your face.

"I think we should finally talk .." she said softly and sat down on your bed.

You nodded slowly and sat down next to her. "So .. what brought you here?"

"Uhm .. I think it all started when my grandma died .." you started playing nervously with your fingers. "My parents told me, she was dead, but she was right behind them. At first I thought it was supposed to be funny, but then I realized that they were serious ... well and when I told them I could still see her and then talked to her, my parents took me to a doctor. But the doctor just said it was my own way of dealing with her death. It was weird to be at her funeral, even though she was still alive to me .. "you laughed nervously.

"One night two complete strangers were standing in my room, claiming to be the deceased owner of our house, then I realized that something was wrong. It got worse because there were more and more dead people talking to me and it became difficult to distinguish who was really alive and who was dead. At some point I could no longer hide it from my parents and they took me again to a doctor, who diagnosed me with schizophrenia. From then on my life became pure hell. I forgot how many nights I had to spend in clinics, but I remember every moment when doctors chained me to the bed and forcibly injected medicine into me. Then I was only allowed to leave the house under supervision and all objects were removed from my room, that I could hurt myself with. It was all bad, but worst of all were my parents. They no longer saw me, their daughter, they just saw this disease and the monster doctors made me ... and I tried so hard to improve, but it was impossible to ignore them, the dead ... and then one day I found this academy at Internet and somehow I felt like it was the only place, where I wouldn't be considered sick .."

When you were done you carefully looked up at Cordelia. She was lost in thought and was staring intently into your eyes, as if this enabled her to look into your head.

"Cordelia, I-" you started, but she cut you off.

"What do they say to you, the dead?"

"Um different things .. most of them want me to kill somebody .. they want their revenge. It's like I'm their bridge from the dead to the world of the living .. They yell at me and promise to leave me alone if I kill for them ... Then there is something else, when I was locked in my room after I was released from the clinic, sometimes they told me death was my salvation and how free I would be if I were one of them..Sometimes I am myself not sure if they told me that or if I did .. "you said. She didn't answer and just kept staring into your eyes.

After a while she cleared her throat and sat up straight. "I want to be honest with you..I can't make it stop or make them leave you alone..but I can teach you how to ignore them and how to gain control over them .."

You nodded quickly. "There's just one more thing .." you started. "It is incredibly difficult to sleep when dead people scream at you with their plans for revenge ...". You smiled at her crookedly.

"How long haven't you slept?" She frowned. Only now did she notice your dark circles.

"Couple of days .." you mumbled. "Since I stopped taking sleeping pills, I wanted to ask if I-"

"No Y / N." She said firmly. "I'll see what I can do, maybe there is some spell that can help and until then come to me if you can't sleep .."

When she got up from your bed, you got up too.

"Thanks Cordelia .." you said and meant it.

"I haven't done anything yet. I'm just sorry, that we didn't talk to each other earlier ...", she said and bent down to reach for your knife. "And as long as the situation doesn't improve, such items have no business in your room, understand?" She asked sharply.

You nodded quickly.

"Good ..", she smiled again. "I'll go now and see what I can do to help you .."

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

Again some time passed, Cordelia began to teach you privately because you couldn't get along with most of the other girls and you didn't feel like telling the others about your past. For that you got very close to Cordelia and started to trust her completely. Your ghost problem was also progressing, it got easier to ignore the dead. Because you had not left the academy since your arrival, you now knew which of the people were still alive here and which were not. In addition, Cordelia had made a list for you at the beginning with all the names of the other witches and at first it really helped you to find your way around who was dead and who wasn't, but now you don't need the list anymore. But the list was still hanging over your bed, simply because you liked the thought of Cordelia did it for you.

As beautiful as it was, there was still a problem: as much as you could ignore it during the day, the way the dead screamed for you, it was all the more difficult at night. Still yelling in your face, they were standing in the corner of your room and staring at you. Even though you stopped talking to them, they still wouldn't leave you alone, because they knew it was robbing you of sleep. Cordelia had said you could come to her if you couldn't sleep, but somehow the thought felt weird and you didn't want to burden her any more.

That's why you looked for another way to find sleep: sleeping pills. It wasn't particularly difficult, you knew where Cordelia kept the pills and it was not uncommon for one of the other witches to take a pill when she couldn't sleep.

You usually got the pills while the others were in class, but you couldn't today, because Cordelia had rescheduled your class until the morning, so you snuck through the academy after everyone went to bed. Only to find that the pills were gone. You let out a frustrated sigh.

"Are you looking for something, Honey?"

Cordelia's warm voice behind you made you whirl around. She stood behind you, only dressed in a dressing gown, her perfectly manicured fingers holding the sleeping pills in her hand.

"Cordelia ..", you mumbled and wanted to come up with some explanation, but she got before you.

"How long have you been taking this?", Her voice was emotionless.

"Few weeks ..." you muttered, looking away from her.

"A few of weeks ??" she uttered aloud.

"I'm sor-" you started, but she interrupted you.

"You always say, that you are sorry .." she hissed and grabbed your hand. "Come with me .. I don't feel like waking up the other girls with my screams ..."

Without a word she pulled you through the corridors of the academy to her room.

"Sit down .." she growled softly after closing the door. She pointed to her bed and you sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Didn't I make it clear that you shouldn't take these pills?" She paced up and down her room.

"yes .." you answered quietly.

"I didn't hear you ..", she stopped and glared at you.

"Shit .. yeah damn .." you yelled at her while your eyes filled with tears.

"Hopefully you are aware, that if you are addicted to these pills now, I will have to take you to a doctor ..", her voice was soft and dangerous. At her words your eyes widened. "No..Delia please don't .." you pleaded.

"Don't call me like that .. It's your own fault ..". Cordelia put her hands on her hips and chewed her lower lip.

"I know .." you said.

"Oh you know? ..Argh Y / N.." She ran through her blonde curls. "It is my top priority to make sure that my girls are okay and that means for you that you follow my rules .."

You nodded guiltily.

She stared down at you. You didn't have to look into her face to be aware of the flames that burned in her eyes.

"Is that your pajamas?" She finally asked.

"What?" You let out confused and lift your head.

"Whether these are your pajamas .." she said impatiently.

"Uhm..yes?"

"Perfect .." she muttered

"I don't quite understand-" you said, still confused, and watched her pull the curtains over the window.

"You sleep here today, you idiot .."

You stared at her in amazement. Were you serious?

"You really don't have to-"

"You think, I would do this for you? ", she laughed. "Do you think it would be nice for me to send you to your room, knowing that you couldn't sleep for the rest of the night? "

You didn't answer and watched her go to the other side of the bed. "In your first week here when you were sick, you wanted me to stay with you until you fell asleep, because then they would leave you alone .." she said, pulling off her coat to reveal a nightgown bring to. You still didn't know what she was getting at.

"And because I don't feel like watching you fall asleep, because I'm also tired, that should work too .." she finished, lifted the covers and climbed into the bed.

You were still sitting lost on the edge of the bed.

"Honey, you shouldn't watch me sleeping, you should sleep yourself, so move your pretty little ass now into my bed ...", she said with closed eyes.

You blushed at her words, but did what she said and lay down next to her under the sheet before she turned off the light.

Now you both lay stiffly next to each other in the dark and stared at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry that I was just so angry ..." Cordelia began, her voice finally back to normal. "It's just ..-", she paused and looked for the right words. "Why didn't you come to me? I thought you trust me .." Her voice was full of regret and disappointment, and when you heard her that way, you couldn't help but feel bad.

"It's not that I don't trust you .." you whispered.

"But?" She asked before sitting up and leaning over you. The blond curls tickled your face.

"You've done so much for me and I'm really grateful for it, but I didn't mean to worry you any more than I already do .. I know I shouldn't say that, but you shouldn't waste your affection on me, Delia .. ". If it had been light, Cordelia would have seen the tears running down your face. Why were you just so emotional?

"God Y / N, you're so stupid .." she sighed, before leaning down and gently pressing her lips to yours.

To say you were surprised would have been an understatement and to say you didn't want it would be a lie.

It just seemed so impossible.

She was like an angel of God with broken wings, but so beautiful. And you were just that little heap of misery that knocked on her door in the pouring rain.

"Was that just something to get me to sleep?" You smiled softly as she pulled back.

"No .." she laughed and pushed your hair back from your face. "Definitely not.."

From then on, things finally got better. You would still hear the pleading cries of the dead, but Cordelia would always be there to ground you.

love of my life google translate

[mymelodyheart]

All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 11 ~One More Day~ The Final Chapter

Previously in Who the Hell is Harry? ...

They lay there like that for a long while, listening to the fireworks subside until only a few isolated booms from a distance could be heard. Their breathing and heartbeats harmonised, bodies interlocking to fit each other. Finally, Jamie eased himself off Claire, kissing her lips tenderly before disposing of the condom. 

Moments later, when he returned, she was on her side, watching him with a satisfied smile. "Happy New Year," she said hoarsely.

Jamie got into bed, pulled her into his chest, and bit her earlobe. "Happy New Year to ye tae. That was the best New Year firework display I've ever seen." 

She laughed and slid an arm across his waist. Nuzzling her nose on the hollow of his throat, he felt her smile against his skin, but her hold on him remained only for a few seconds before she passed out cold.

Not wanting to disturb the perfection of the moment, he gathered her closer and whispered, "I love you," into her hair, hoping and praying that the New Year will bring them together for good.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

  Laughing, Jamie and Willie noisily strode in from the kitchen backdoor at ten in the morning with Rollo in tow. They found Annalise and Claire making shortcrust pastry for the Cornish pasties and preparing sandwiches for lunch. Apparently, the boys were expecting a few of their mates to come over and help with a project.

With no forecast of rain for the whole week, the brothers had decided to knock down Jamie's old shed and build a new and bigger one. A day ago they'd torn it down, cleared the debris, levelled the ground for the extension, laid down some slabs for support and poured the cement for the foundation. This morning, they've completed the base and put up the wall frames, including the waterproof sheeting.

"Good morning, ladies." The brothers said simultaneously, making the girls smile in acknowledgement. Willie gestured for Annalise to follow him, leaving Jamie and Claire alone.

Jamie washed his hands, made himself a coffee and came around to where she was stood dropping cubed butter into the flour. "Have ye seen our progress with the new shed yet?" he asked. But before she could reply, he leaned in and gave her a swift kiss on the lips, making her knock the carton of milk over. 

Claire gasped, and Jamie grinned with triumph for catching her off guard. He brought his cup up to his smiling lips and winked.

"I have," she laughed, picking up the milk and wiping the countertop. "Are you sure, it's a shed you're making out there and not a small house?"

He leaned back against the counter and smiled. He'd taken off his jumper and was now only wearing a white long-sleeved t-shirt that stretched across his chest, showing the definitions of his toned muscles and broad shoulders. His eyes gleamed in the soft morning light, and Claire thought of how handsome he looked, making her heart pick up a little.

"It's a shed, but I thought while I'm in the process of restoring it, it would be a brilliant idea to build an additional extension for when ye come over for a visit, and ye wish to write. I'll have a huge window facing the field so ye can look out when ye need an inspiration. It's a grand view overlooking the greens. I'll even soundproof it for ye, so ye willnae be distracted by outside noise."

She arched an eyebrow in surprise. These past few days, she started to notice a lot of new items cropping up in Jamie's cottage. There were a couple of floral throw cushions she'd never seen before. And after Annalise had casually mentioned how much Claire missed her mermaid blanket, a handmade crochet mermaid tail blanket had shown up one night on his sofa while watching a movie. His cupboard was now fully stocked with her evening herbals such as chamomile, Valerian root and lemon balm tea. There was even a pair of soft fluffy memory foam slippers, waiting for her whenever she stayed over. Somehow, she was sensing a sense of permanency and more and more each day, she was starting to feel she belonged to him and his home.

Claire tried not to examine it too deeply and focused more on enjoying the moment, but it was getting harder. Because as each day slowly neared to her departure date, the hollow in the pit of her stomach became wider. And tonight was her last night with Jamie.

"Well, I suppose I won't see the finished product until I come over for a visit," she said with a little sadness in her voice.

Sensing the shift in mood, Jamie put down his cup and closed in on her, his fingers coasting past her jaw into the back of her neck, gently urging her in. He stilled for a moment, smiling an inch from her lips, as she inhaled him, his masculine smell, the coffee on his breath, the faint intoxicating scent of his aftershave mixed with sweat. Then he closed his eyes and kissed her.

"What do ye want to do on yer last night? Fancy going out?" he breathed against her mouth.

She swallowed and shook her head. "Shall we stay in?"

He cupped her face, opened his eyes and held hers with his. "I was hoping ye would say that." 

"You don't want to say goodbye to Annalise? It's her last day, too," she half-teased. 

"I think she'd want to spend her last night with Willie," he said seriously this time. He glanced down at her lips. "As I do with ye. But I want to spend the evening, not saying goodbye but making memories." He looked back up at her. "Memories that will bring ye back to me sooner."

Her heart pounded. She knew what Jamie was trying to say to her. 

She smiled at him. "I'd like that too, Jamie."

"Good, that's settled then."

..........

When Claire and Annalise brought out the Cornish pasties, sausage rolls and sandwiches for lunch, they arranged them on a makeshift buffet made out of wooden planks so the men could help themselves. Although it was in the middle of winter, the sun was out, and it was a lovely day to sit outdoors and soak up the heat. The hungry men descended on the food and sat on the benches Willie had earlier put out. Jamie filled his plate and grabbed a can of cider, and they sat on a thick blanket-covered ground, away from the rest, making sure the sun was on them since it was very chilly in the shade. 

"The shed is going to be massive," she observed, her chin in her hand. 

"That's the plan," he said, smiling at her, taking a huge bite of the Cornish pasty and humming in his throat to let her know how much he was enjoying his food. "Once the exterior is done, I'll send ye some photos, and then ye can tell me what colour ye want yer writing studio to be painted in." 

Claire looked at him for the longest time and then sighed. "Why are you doing all this, Jamie? It's not like we've known each other for a long time."

"But it feels like we've known each other for a long time. Ye know it too." He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "And if ye dinnae like the wee studio, I can always turn it into a workshop."

She smiled. "At least allow me to put some money into it."

He shook his head. "Dinnae fash. Most of the woods we're using are from work, and I got the rest of the stuff from the reclamation yard," he explained with the eagerness of a young boy, his eyes all lit up.

She wanted to kiss him right there and then, and realised how much she would miss this place, especially him. He looked so rugged and at peace with his surrounding and very much part of it. And knowing that he wanted her to be part of his world, made her even more determined to wrap up her work in London as soon as possible and start that writing career she'd always dreamed of. Although a little niggling voice in her head was telling her to slow things down, she dismissed it, knowing that for once, her life had a direction she could look forward to.

She noticed, he hadn't put back his jumper on and was only wearing that long-sleeved shirt.

"Aren't you cold?" 

He shrugged. "Here in the sun ...no' at all."

"I'm sat in the sun with you, but I can still feel the chill. Even after working all morning next to the oven, I could not for the life of me just wear a thin shirt like that in this Highland weather. Are you sure you're warm enough?" She frowned, looking over him.

"I am. Do ye want to sit on my lap so I can warm ye up? I have a few ideas on how to quickly achieve that." His eyes gleamed.

She crumpled a paper napkin and threw it at him. He laughed out loud, making the group of men look their way. 

The sun rose higher, and the sky was cloudless, a rarity at this time of the year. Somewhere on a speaker played a Simple Minds song  Don't You Forget About Me,  and Rollo and another dog ran back and forth in the open field. 

"I have something to ask you," she said, plucking a weed from the ground and watching the dogs frolic. "At the risk of sounding clingy and needy, I want to know if you've had a lot of girlfriends ...or say, sexual partners." She shrugged and looked down at her hand. "I-I can't help but wonder ...well, you know, not that I have anybody else to compare you to, but I must say you sort of know things, like when we touch and love each other. And you seem to be good at it. So I figured that maybe you've had a lot of experience." Her eyes suddenly widened when she realised what just came out of her mouth. She waved a hand. "I mean, I'm no prude or anything, and I understand a lot of people are early bloomers and have had a lot of sexual partners. I-I just wanted to understand ...if  it  comes naturally to you."

He grinned at her over his sausage roll as if he was pleased to hear the possessiveness in her tone. "I'm thirty years old, Sassenach, and in as much as I would have loved the idea of ye being my first, I must admit I didnae live the life of a monk. So aye, probably ye can call it that ... experience. But if ye must know, I've never been drawn to anyone like I am with ye."

She cleared her throat. "Fair enough, and since we're sharing our thoughts, I want you to know, I feel the same way." She bit her lower lip and thought over the words she wanted to say. "You kissing me on a first date, making love to me on our second, running after me at the airport on the third day. Very rash, I'd say." 

"Only with ye." He laughed. 

He slugged the last of his drink, and she got up and grabbed him another cider. "How about your ex-fiancee? Any lingering feelings for her still floating around in the ether?" She asked, sitting back down in front of him. 

Looking at her straight in the eyes, he took her hand and rubbed the inside of her wrist. "I will always care for her, Sassenach. But what I feel for her is nothing more than friendship. She's about to be married, and she wants me to be the godfather of Simon's child. And if ye must know, I'm thrilled she's found somebody to share her life. I think Simon would have wanted that for her too as do I ...someone who will take care of her and their child." He twined their fingers together. "What we have between us is rare. Like what ye said, I was rash, but that's ever since meeting ye. Somehow I've lost the ability to guard myself. When it comes to ye, I lose all perspective and control. It's chaotic and scary at the same time, but I wouldnae wish it to be any other way."

She gave him a smile. "Sweet and convincing as you sound right now, I'm still not allowing you to come to London and visit me. It's too risky. I want you to get better first, and one day you will. I believe that."

"I believe that too."

They stared at each other for a while, their surrounding fading into a haze, and it felt like there were only the two of them left. Until the dogs' barking reminded Claire, they weren't alone. "Right now, I would like to kiss you," she said softly. "But I don't know what I feel about people watching us."

A gradual grin crept across his face as he let go of her hand. "Weel, I dinnae see how I cannot oblige ye. Just close yer eyes and dinnae mind them lads."

Smiling, he leaned in close and brushed his lips on the corner of her mouth. When she thought they were done and started to pull away, he caught her lower lip with his teeth, keeping her still. After a few heartbeats, they began to kiss, achingly slow and gentle, his tongue probing into her to tease, taste and mate.

The cheers, sallies and whistles from the men nearby kicked-off almost instantly, and even Rollo started to howl in unison. Intent only on each other, they ignored the raucous banter in the background and continued to kiss.

"Ye ken I'm gonnae get a lot of pelters for this," he murmured against her smiling lips, his eyes closed.

 "Well, you might as well make it worth your while." 

His chest rumbled with laughter, as he kissed her again, causing more cheers to intensify, utterly oblivious to their surroundings.

"Ah, here's my not so wee brother!" a voice cut through their own bubble, making them both jump.

Jamie tore his lips away from her, and they both glanced up. "Jenny!" He immediately shot to his feet and hugged the petite woman wearing a puffer jacket, black jeans and a pair of wellies. "When did ye get back? I thought I'd see ye just after Christmas."

"Aye, had a last-minute change of plan. I left yer pressies in yer kitchen, and Ian says he'll call one of these days to see ye. He's just got some catching up to do with work."

Claire absentmindedly wiped her hands on her jeans and got up, noticing the other woman's delicate features and black hair tied in a high ponytail. At first glance, Jamie's sister could be mistaken for an adolescent with her five-feet height and small frame. The only tell-tale sign that she was a Fraser was the same blue eyes and dark hair she'd inherited from Brian.

"I told ye no' to bother ..." Jamie's voice trailed off as he looked past her sister's shoulder. "You brought company."

Still not acknowledging Claire, Jenny beamed at Jamie and then motioned for the beautiful tall dark-haired girl standing several yards away to come over. "Ye remember Geneva? Aye? Met her at the centre today and we're going for coffee after. Actually, she told me she's going to be yer new therapist. Yer former one had to leave temporarily for the south of England because of some family emergency. Now isnae that grand Geneva's back? She's going to stay here for good."

The girl, Geneva practically skipped, stopping short of throwing herself in Jamie's arms as her eyes briefly caught Claire's. "Jamie!" she greeted breezily, giving him a slack embrace. "Nice to see you again."

"Aye." Jamie nodded, looking perplexed. "It's been a while. Didnae realise ye were around." Not waiting for Geneva's response, he grabbed Claire's hand, drew her to his side and planted a kiss on top of her head. "By the way, this is Claire, my girlfriend," Jamie said, with a hint of finality in his tone. It was almost as if he was giving a warning to his sister that there would be no discussion about it. 

He must have noticed Jenny ignoring her presence and wanted to reassure her he was on her side.

Claire offered a polite smile, a few words of greeting and shook both women's hand, all the while conscious of Jamie's comforting hand on her back. Its weight served as a reminder the promise he'd made to her at the airport, lessening the sting of Jenny's lack of warmth.

"Weel, Jenny, Geneva, nice seeing ye both but I'm afraid I have to cut this short. As ye can see, I still have work to do and Claire and I are in the middle of discussing some personal matters. So if ye'll excuse us, both." Jamie gave his sister a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks for the pressies."

"I'll give you a call one of these days to arrange for our first round of session," Geneva said, smiling at Jamie.

Jamie nodded and then he firmly grabbed Claire's hand as they edged past them, without another word. Once alone in the kitchen, Jamie pulled her in his arms and sighed into her hair. "Dinnae mind my sister. I'm sorry she wasn't as welcoming to you as the rest of my family."

She swallowed. "I'm fine, really, and I understand. Jenny is only concern about you. Who is that girl, Geneva?" she asked.

He exhaled and stroke her hair. "A friend of my sister. She used to live in the village but moved to Glasgow a while ago. I guess she's back and will be my new therapist."

"Oh, alright."

Jamie hugged her tight. "I want ye to know, it's ye and me now, Sassenach. I need ye to trust in that. Ye with me?"

She buried her face against his chest, as Jamie's words plunged deep and unearthed the truth she'd been grappling with ever since the count down to her departure date begun. For years she'd been living in a fog in London with no sense of direction searching for something she never had a name for. Now that she'd found it, she didn't want to spend a long time analysing it while doing a job that never gave her a sense of fulfilment. She knew now Jamie would follow her anywhere in the world, but she didn't want him to do that and lose a piece of himself. This was the place where he belonged, and she would find a way to belong here too, with or without Jenny's blessing.

She snuggled closer into his hold. There was a reverence in the way he held her, and all she could think of how cherished, safe and anchored she felt. More than ever, she felt secure in his affections and more optimistic about their future. Jamie was right. All that was left was them. Who would have guessed a month ago she would have her life all planned out around this man in such a short time. 

Shivering slightly with excitement, her mind flitted through the countless tasks that needed to be done before she could start her new life. To get back to her Jamie.

Looking up at him, she smiled. "It's you and me now, Jamie and I trust in that. Always."

He looked relieved as he relaxed in her arms, telling her something had lifted off his chest.

..........

That night, Jamie watched Claire from the sofa as she rearranged her suitcase for the umpteenth time. His parents had given her a boozy fruitcake, homemade preserves and a bottle of single malt to take with her, and she'd insisted she didn't need another bag to make everything fit in.

Though her beautiful face looked concentrated and determined with the task at hand, her whisky eyes looked haunted, already dreading the time when she would leave. They'd had a light supper earlier and made love twice, and there was only one truth that mattered. They loved each other. Though he didn't want her to leave, he needed to let her go, for now, be the voice of reason and the face of courage for what might be a lengthy separation. God knows, he understood what she was feeling, but he didn't want their last night together to be filled with uncertainty. He wanted tonight to be a celebration of their love and the future to come. 

How many times had he thought of persuading her to let him come even for just a few days? But then again it wouldn't be fair to her if she had to worry about him every single minute of the day when she would be better off concentrating on the work she needed to do. He had enough on his plate as it was with his arboricultural business and his own mental health, and he needed to refocus his attention on that. 

He told himself, it was a wee sacrifice, and this time next year, she would be here for good.

With a sigh, he slid down to the floor and picked up her travel diary. 

He glanced up at her, waiting for her permission. When she nodded, he smiled. He liked that they sometimes communicated without talking, like it was their own wee secret, instinctively knowing how the other felt or when the other was looking trying to get one's attention.

He carefully opened the travel diary which was thick with postcards Claire had pasted on its pages. A few photos slipped out. Thinking they were postcards, he was about to slide them back into the diary, when he realised he was looking at one of Claire's family photos. His heart leapt, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on Claire's father, confirming his suspicion.  Harry is Henry Beauchamp! But how and why?  Goosebumps coasted down his back. He didn't know what to feel other than have this urge to laugh out loud. He'd never believed in spirits or ghosts, but something inside him told him tonight was not the night to delve into it. He needed to talk to his godfather and find out more about Harry. And find out why Claire's father's spirit was helping him.

He felt Claire's eyes on him, and they stared at each other for a few moments. He put the diary down, and he opened his arms, and she slid into his embrace and onto his lap. 

He breathed in the clean scent of her hair and savoured the length of her body, fitting perfectly to his. His hand travelled down the curve he'd memorised and worshipped with his lips and tongue and touch. And he realised this woman had healed him, with her presence and humour and stubbornness.  Harry must surely approve.

Her whisper drifted to his ears like a wisp of smoke. "I have to leave tomorrow." 

"I ken." 

"Oh, God, but I don't want to." 

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I ken." 

She tilted her head back, a soft smile curling her lips. "Speechless for a change, huh?" 

He laughed, even though his heart was ripping apart at the idea of her gone from his bed and everyday life, realising what a gift she'd given him this holiday season. "So many things to tell ye but we have little time left. So I'm just gonnae hold ye like this to make up for the long winter ahead."

She blinked twice, a moist sheen apparent in her eyes. "Always the sensible and practical one, aren't you? " 

"I willnae be tonight." 

Claire caught his intention, and the longing they thought was already sated rose between them once more. He kissed her slow and thorough, taking his time, savouring the taste of chocolate, whisky and sweet honey, sinking deep and demanding everything. And she gave it all and much more, as they made love until all their energy had been spent and fell into a deep sleep in each other's arms.

..........

Claire walked out of the cottage and found Jamie waiting for her, her suitcase already deposited into the rental car. Willie and Annalise were in their own bubble locked in each other's embrace, whispering promises and secrets. She smiled at them, her heart hurting. Though Annalise's and Willie's relationship looked seamless, they'd had their own share of teething problems resulting in a couple of fights. Claire was glad they'd made up already before their departure. Claire walked with heavy feet over to them and cleared her throat, making Willie grinned boyishly at her. He let go of Annalise and gave her a big hug. Jamie did the same and enfolded her friend into a tight embrace.

"My brother and I are going to miss ye both" Willie whispered into her ears. 

"Me too. I heard from Annalise, we'll be seeing you in a couple of weeks. Is that right?"

Willie laughed and drew away. "Aye but unfortunately, I willnae be taking my brother with me. Someone has to be here to run the business." 

"I know." 

"I'll bring ye his love letters though," he teased.

She laughed.

With one last squeeze, Willie let her go. Claire watched Jamie said his own goodbyes to Annalise, making her friend tear up even more. Who would have thought, Annalise would be reduced to a bumbling mess when she had always been the one who had everything under control. Claire watched them both laugh with moisture in their eyes, both trying to downplay what they were feeling.

"Take care of my lass," Jamie whispered gruffly. "Ye have my number in case anything happens. Ye can call me anytime."

Annalise laughed and pulled Jamie in for another hug. Claire knew Annalise was trying to hide her own tears "You have my number too. Send me some candid photos or videos of Willie, whenever ye can."

"I will. I have a few embarrassing ones already on my phone. I'll send them once ye're in London."

Annalise wiped the tears with the back of her hand. "I'd love that."

Willie motioned Annalise over for another final goodbye. 

Her friend looked at Jamie before walking over to Willie. "I'll see you when I see you." 

Jamie nodded, smiling.

Claire faced Jamie, sliding her arms around his waist. "I don't like goodbyes," she whispered. "I wish I could teleport myself now to London, so I could just go back to bed and sleep off this feeling." 

Jamie caressed her cheek, his soft blue eyes filled with adoration. "Dinnae be sad, Sassenach. Enjoy yer trip back home and have a few laughs with Annalise. I took ye away from her a lot of times, keeping ye all to myself. Maybe ye can both catch up with whatever ye lassies talk about." 

"I'm glad I'll have her with me on the way home. She will at least keep me distracted from being sad." 

"Ye'll keep one another distracted."

They smiled, and Claire was about to say something when a loud excited barking filled the air, and she glanced over to see Rollo bolting towards them, tongue lolling with excitement. She laughed and let go of Jamie. "I haven't seen the kitten. Where is he?"

"Oh, Adso?

Claire frowned. "Adso?"

"Aye, I've named the wee cheetie, Adso. My ma used to have a cat called Adso, and I couldnae think of any other name, so I'm calling him that."

"Goodness, what a horrible name!"

Jamie laughed. "Try saying that to my ma. Anyway, he's at Mrs Fitz's for now until he's big enough to be on his own."

Smiling, Claire got down to her knees and hugged Rollo, burying her face into its warm fur and inhaling the doggy smell. "Going to miss you, handsome," she murmured, stroking the dog's back. "I'll never forget our first breakfast date. You were a perfect gentleman." 

Rollo replied by nudging her neck with his snout. 

She unfolded herself from the ground and walked towards the car, where Jamie waited. Annalise was in the driver's seat already while Willie leaned on the window talking to her.

Claire glanced at her watch. "I'll call as soon as we arrive home." 

"Looking forward to it." 

"Well, this is it." She stuffed her hands in her jean pocket and looked away, rocking to and fro on her heels. "Try that mediation I told you about so you don't have any nightmares at night." 

"I haven't had them for almost a fortnight, so I guess you have to talk to me on the phone until I fall asleep," he joked.

"That's very good, Jamie," she said, looking at him thoughtfully, this time ignoring the jest that was common in their conversation. "But try to look into meditation. If it isn't your thing, then at least you've given it your fair shot."

"I promise I'll give it a go tonight."

She smiled. "Good."

"And one more thing, Sassenach."

"What?"

"This." He braced her jaws with both hands and kissed her tenderly, the warmth and feel of his mouth, making her sigh, and her heart expand. When he raised his head, he had a beautiful smile etched on his face, almost beatific if it weren't for the mischief that always seemed to shine from his eyes. "I love ye, Sassenach." 

"I love you too. See you around?" Claire whispered, suddenly feeling the odd lump in her throat.

"I'll be waiting." 

She stepped away from his hold and quickly got into the car, allowing herself to take one last look at Jamie through her window. Time slowed in that instance, as if her brain needed a mental photograph, a keepsake to give her strength in the times to come. With his legs braced apart, one hand on Rollo's head, his coppery hair blowing in the wind, the leashed strength radiated in waves around him as his pale-blue eyes locked with hers. Annalise started the car, bringing her back into this moment, and he smiled and raised his hand in goodbye. She knew that took a lot of effort to keep that happy expression plastered on his face, so she smiled back, though wobbly, and blinked back the tears. A choked sob rose up from her throat, and it felt like she was losing a piece of herself she'd just found. 

With one deep fortifying breath, she tore her gaze away from him and looked straight ahead, as Annalise reversed and drove away. 

This time, she didn't look back. 

She knew if she did, she'd never leave.

Dear Readers, 

Well, here we are ... the final chapter of All I Want For Christmas. I thought I'd still be writing this until Easter. 😂 My problem with me is I get so focused on one scene and write too lengthy details about it, instead of quickly moving to the next. But hey, we live and learn. And the main thing is, I finished this story, even though two days later than I projected. 

If you think the ending to this chapter is sad, please don't be disheartened because there will be an arc or Part 2 as I wish to call it. 

As I mentioned in the previous chapter, I have decided to make this story into a series. The title of the series is, WONDERWALL. So if you wish to subscribe to the series, click here. As for part 2 of this series, I still have no definite date when I will publish it, but you can always subscribe on AO3 here or check my Tumblr blog if you wish to be updated.  

My plans are to start publishing the second part around holidays/special days. So either before Valentine's day or St. Patrick's day, all depending on how well I've rested and how quickly I can put the story together. 

Having said that, I thank you all for being part of the journey with this story, and I look forward to writing part 2 of Wonderwall for you. And also thank you so much for the kudos, feedback and follows. It warms my heart to know that you enjoy my story. Big hugs for that! 

So for now, I wish you good health and strength in these strange times. Keep the good vibes up, take care always and sending you all love. X 

PS: I will be updating the Masterlist of this story soon here.

[starlightmaker17]

So about Stolitz...

So I have been looking at the relationship on Blitzo and Stolas in Helluva Boss.... and I like to think it is a complex ship that could develop into a great one.

For starters, those who have seen the pilot can somewhat agree that Stolas was pretty creepy with that phone call- not exactly a good first impression (who cares- it’s hell). But upon further examination on Instagram and showings of episodes in progress, I have some things to mention.

Start with Stolas:

It is very clear that Stolas at least cares for the well being of Blitzo. Given, we don’t know of his relations and treatment to everyone else other than with his daughter and wife. But he seems to be in friendly terms with the IMP team and vise versa. He even buys them coffee. The guy can draw, garden, and is shown to be a very devoted father to Octavia (who shows typical teenager behavior- just as loving but also seeming embarrassed). On top of that he has dorky moments, but this could easily be due to loneliness or lack of social skills.  It explains why he didn’t have an Instagram account until his daughter convinced him to doing it- he likely has no friends (his wife’s status is yet to be determined). He barely gets along with some Overlords. He is morally grey on some situations- given he is a prince of hell (but Charlie is princess and she is her own case). He really could be just a lonely soul forced into an arranged marriage and didn’t have anyone to talk to- until he came upon Blitzo.

Now, onto Blitzo:

The guy has lots of issues going on with him, down to the point of obsessively intruding his coworkers’ personal lives and overspending their business fundings without thinking of the consequences. The guy’s only true hobby is stalking them or obsessing over his horse, or his business. Based on little background we have, it is implied that Blitzo and his sisters worked in a circus at some point and had a less than supportive dad. There was little to no mention of the mother being involved, so this creates a scenario where if the parents are not involved enough in a child’s life, then that child will look for that attention elsewhere. Hence, the circus. This certainly explains the over-the-top behavior he exhibits in trying to promote his business, even when it is slowing down. Furthermore, because he had little family involvement and memories, he tries to compensate that by comparing his business as his family - it’s all he most likely has, and will do whatever it takes to keep it running. Is it sane? Not at all- but it shows he cares at least about his employees, even if they treat him like garbage or a nuisance at times. He even lets Loona get away with inappropriate behavior and misconduct. So long as he gets the attention, he does not care.

This leads to him meeting Stolas. The guy has the money, a means to keep his business going, and links that could get him A LOT OF ATTENTION. Blitzo already demonstrated no sense of chain in command etiquette, so this probably got Stolas’ attention as he’s most likely treated like a prince all the time. It is unknown how their affair started, but perhaps they made a business deal (considering how little Stolas seems to care how Blitzo uses the grimoire other than getting caught). Literally, Stolas had no reason to give an imp a powerful family heirloom unless there was something in it for him - maybe he was doing it for the sake of the thrill and ease his boredom. He would get into potential trouble with the Royal Family regardless.

Maybe something happened to where Stolas kept getting sincere (if a bit blunt) treatment from Blitzo and Blitzo finally got attention from someone important. This developed a bond that became rocky - Blitzo got his business running, and Stolas has someone interested in talking to him as an equal. Over time, the more the business began to plummet, the more Blitzo went to schmooze Stolas for more investment. This may make Stolas think Blitzo became more interested in him as a person rather than as a business investor, and at some point their affair became more frequent. Soon enough, it gets to point Blitzo becomes uncomfortable at the sudden closeness they develop and tries to keep his distance, and Stolas tries to woo him back. It’s literally a game of tug-o-war: Blitzo goes to him for help but pulls back when he finishes business, and at that point Stolas keeps pursuing  someone who seems to care for him as a person and not as a royal. It’s possible that Blitzo may be aware that Stolas is falling for him, and is conflicted of his own feelings since he primarily went to Stolas to save a business he treasured more than anything else. Meanwhile, Stolas tries to keep that bond strong, even instigating more communication despite the imp’s cold shoulder.

It’s not uncommon that a person who wants love is hesitant to accept it - they’ve been hurt/deserted before, so it could happen again. In Blitzo’s mind, he didn’t plan to have an ongoing affair- it most likely just happened on a whim. He has no dating history (that we know of) and came from an emotionally strained childhood so he has no healthy means of knowing how to love properly. It’s even possible he only accepts Stolas’ advances out of guilt or obligation, but that doesn’t mean  he is not capable of learning to accept it and possibly returning it.

As for Stolas, he may be too obsessed having that one person finally seeming to understand him on an even level. This can be dangerous and sometimes delusional, as there is a reason why it’s called rose-tinted glasses or the grass-is-greener syndrome. He at least knows boundaries when they are needed, but lacks emotional and social intelligence. But same applies to Blitzo as well- they are being silly dorks.

We know very little of their lifestyles outside of work and business, but it seems they like to hang out together and even enjoy some of their get-togethers. It is also heavily implied that Blitzo does not like being bribed into sex for favors (which is sort of hypocritical, considering that’s what probably started the affair) and rather wants to have a relationship that isn’t too casual, but committed. Despite being married, Stolas seems to agree on this on the emotional concept. He wants to be committed to someone on  his own terms, not that out of obligation.

Their needs match each other almost very well. Blitzo wants love, Stolas is willing to give it. Blitzo wants attention, Stolas gives it (more than needed sometimes). Stolas wants honesty, Blitzo gives it. Stolas has real expectations, Blitzo can work on that. Stolas doesn’t like being lonely, Blitzo can relate.

So how would I rate this ship?

8/10.

I can see great potential in it now, but it depends how it flows from here on out. We haven’t really seen them in arguments besides Blitzo being caught so that’s another factor needed. There’s too little details on them still so we’ll need to wait to see what happens. 

Regardless, I stand by Vivzie’s decision 100%. This is her world and creation - I only implement my thoughts about it.

[senju-sekhmet]

The Leash (Part 9)

Summary: Your rescue was supposed to be as smooth as these missions can be. However very quickly, Tobirama faces off against an enemy that has no form, color or smell - and time is running short, very fast. Unless he figures out what truly holds you hostage, your life will be lost. Warnings (for the finished work): Blood, illness, descriptions of heavy injuries and graphic violence, torture (both depicted and implied), needles, morally grey territory, human experimentation, panic attacks, character death, angst with a happy ending ~6000 words (this chapter, finished work: 80.000) Previous: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6; Part 7; Part 8 Read on AO3!   Disclaimer below the cut! more updates. is it really a disclaimer still, i wonder lmao

DISCLAIMER! we are nearing the grand finale of this fic!! please stick until the very end okay?! i know this chapter might be a little bit of a drag - it’ll get better, promise. <3 Other than that: enjoy my very self indulgent work, filled with my own headcanons and angst galore. Let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading!!!! ________ Leaving you had been a real test of will. Not only were you in such a deplorable state overall, but also your request - it was quite obvious you were putting on a brave face, but the truth of the matter was you weren’t faring well, at all. It was the little signs that gave you away - the slight tremor in your voice sometimes. The gallows humour. He didn’t want to think about what the withdrawal had been like for you. But he could well imagine. And as per usual, he was helpless except to unravel how to produce more of this damned leash. He couldn’t even heal you or alleviate some of your exhaustion at this point. 

By the time he had reached the laboratory he was frustrated beyond measure, sick from guilt and his heart was aching that if he didn’t know better, he might as well think he was sick. He wasn’t, of course. But eliciting such bodily responses due to his emotional state was something entirely foreign to Tobirama. He was - always had been - subject to his moods, sure. And the people around him would know his sour moods, especially. But would he carelessly act on them, or physically feel them like this? No. Luckily it was the middle of the night and there had been nobody around to witness the somber scowl he was wearing. Not that he cared, anyway.

In the grand scheme of things, that was the least of his concerns.

He had contemplated testing his newest result on another prisoner, but ultimately decided against it. The best he could hope for was a prolonged time of muting the victim’s chakra. What he really needed to start working on now was to weave the second component in, the disruption. And since he had four vials available, that offered a variety of options. He’d leave one untouched, to be safe - and work on one for now to start with that.

The first problem was to imagine how he’d want the disruption to kick in. He knew from examining your blood and also the reaction you’ve shown that it took some time for the disruption to kick in. He had deduced it must be because of the chakra muting component - it covered the disruption up to leave a timeframe in which a victim was not threatened by it. When it faded, only the disruption remained, the lethal withdrawal kicked in. Therefore, the chakra needed for this would need to last longer, adhere to the victim almost like a brand and be intense enough to cause these effects. He did have a vague idea how to achieve this - but to compress it into such a small vial was… daunting.

What’s new, he somberly figured to himself.

And just as he imagined, this proved to be even more complicated than weaving the first component in. Not only did he have to treat delicately, but also be extremely careful to not destroy the structures he had worked so hard to get into that vial in the first place. He didn’t quite succeed in that - partly, the muting component took damage. The whole process felt as though he needed to weave chakra inbetween what was already in the vial - as if he was transplanting it onto the already delicate structure he had created. It was endlessly frustrating. Frankly everything about this was so demanding, at times he wondered if there really was no other option to get a cure.

Like torturing the prisoners to a maximum.

The more time he spent threading the more he became convinced there must be some trick to it. That, or it required an intense amount of training. If it was the latter, then he’d be facing a new problem. 

He’d deal with that when it came to it. His plate was full as it was. 

Once he got a hang of how to weave it in without wrecking the delicate structure of the first pattern, his gaze swept to the clock. It was long past midnight. Time for a small break. As much as he hated it, he didn’t want to use his clones yet again - he needed to figure this out more, firstly. If he had no real idea where to truly go with this, his clones’ works would just ramp up more exhaustion. More he needed to sleep off. Besides, this would not be so much of a break - though you were stable, he simply didn’t like the thought of leaving you alone. Not after your request - not after seeing you in your frightfully weak state. He had to check on you, as he promised.

He teleported back into your dimly lit room. Briefly, he gazed out of the window - the sky was clear, the moon shone bright and there were a million stars alongside it. It was beautiful. Silently, he walked to your bedside again to find you had your eyes closed. Finally - finally your face seemed peaceful. Gaunt, for sure, but not in pain. Tobirama settled down into his chair and laid his hand on yours, as lightly as he could to not wake you up. Very slowly he let his chakra skim over your network to find it dormant as well, pleased you still were asleep. Equally slow, he increased the connection to examine you as softly as possible. As usual, the injuries, microscopic tears, tissue damages and healing bits were too numerous to count. And there also was the general lack of reserves overall - a result from the strain put on you by the stretching of the interval no doubt. Even so, your cardiovascular situation was superior and no organ showed any sign of dysfunction. A pleasant surprise - compared to before, you were doing even better. Seems that aside from the exhaustion you had recovered well from their first stunt. He withdrew quickly before you could notice his presence and leaned back in his chair.

Had they gone by their normal schedule, you’d be left with four and a half days now. And Tobirama hadn’t even yet produced something that was anywhere near the leash. For all the grief it had put you through, it was a small victory. Admitting this felt wrong, though - despicable. It was the method. And he wasn’t sure how much time they’d gain from this, overall. His medical expertise wasn’t comparable to his brother’s, but he didn’t think you’d keep up lengthier intervals. Maybe if you’d been in peak physical condition.

He groaned slowly, rubbing a hand over his face.

Part of him didn't want to think anymore, now. He felt stretched out, thin. Spent. But of course, his mind wouldn't stop.

He vividly remembered the first time you went into withdrawal. The torment you had been going through. Just because you hadn’t been writhing or screaming now didn’t mean it was more bearable - no. You had been sedated this time. Tobirama was quite sure the whole procedure was hell for you, nonetheless, and all that kept you together was your unbreakable will to live.

If that ever faltered…

An ice-cold shiver ran down his spine. He closed his eyes. Already his heart pumped painfully against his ribcage, he had expected it. The all too familiar ache, the grief. The guilt.

I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you.

It was all he could do. Though he caustically surmised, so far he had done a less than stellar job.

He returned to the lab as soon as his concentration felt up to the maddening task yet again. Having seen you again quite possibly helped a great deal to spur him on again despite the hour and how daunting it all felt - he just  had  to produce some kind of breakthrough now. He knew it. He could feel it. This is the way. He didn’t allow himself another break from the delicate weaving process until finally he inspected a vial containing both components now. Using his sensory skills he sent a weak, short-range chakra pulse through it.

The substance was not like the leash, no. If the leash was shining like a beacon, his copy was a torch, at least. It was progress, compared to the last time. He silently wondered if adding the second component had done this. Then came the next test - examining it directly. Again, the result was that his vial seemed inferior: while the chakra swirled in it in a quite complicated pattern, finely woven, he did distinguish the two different components after a little bit. The liquid made it difficult as it stayed ever in motion, but it was as though he was seeing two different colors.

It was a step forward, at least. He’d be testing this soon. Based on that - and the test subject’s blood work - he’d draw new conclusions. Still, there was more time to work on this vial further. The weaving itself was becoming something of a craft - with each moment he’d learn new tricks to it. A taxing one that seemed entirely focused on details, tiniest nudges and using small amounts of chakra at a time, but a craft nonetheless.

Had he not been so pressed for time, he might’ve actually found it interesting. But right now, all he felt was your torment breathing down his neck, wrenching his heart around and stealing his breath.

He wanted this over with.

It was early morning when he finished his work - not that he’d call it that, but he decided there was more merit to testing it out now. Even so, he’d check up on you again first. The world lurched with the use of his hiraishin seal, and a moment later he was in your room.

The first rays of dawn filtered in already, drenching the wooden hospital furniture in red hues once more. Low rustles were coming from your bed. Tobirama stepped over swiftly to find you stirring under the sheet irregularly, your head tilting from side to side. Briefly, he wondered if you were having a nightmare - but your eyes were open.

And recognizing him. “Tobirama,” you breathed, surprised.

“What’s wrong, Y/n?”, he inquired, wasting no time to step closer even, the worry already growing. 

“Just … trying to get more comfortable,” you whispered, attempting a weak smile. “Looks like my strength returned a little bit more.”

He frowned slightly. “Don’t force it.” He couldn’t have prevented the sternness from seeping into his voice if he wanted to.

You sighed. “No,” a light shake of your head, “Just help me get on my side. Please?”, you extended your left hand for him to take, which he did with a small sigh. At least that way you wouldn’t try to do it yourself. And while he was extremely  adamant, as Hashirama had eloquently put it, about your rest, it still tormented him to see you lacked the strength to turn on your side by yourself. Of course he knew it was common for patients in your condition - but this was you. He placed his right hand around where your hip and the small of your back would be under the blanket after his left had grasped your hand and pulled you towards him very slowly and gently so you tilted onto your side. You groaned a little, but sighed once you had adjusted to your new position.

“Thank you,” you hushed, meekly almost. The lack of strength was just as obvious to you. Tobirama took his seat at your side again and shook his head dismissively.

“Of course.” He still frowned, though. “How are you feeling?”

You closed your eyes and sighed again. “It’s… starting again. I can feel it. I’m feeling dizzy and… weaker.” Your voice shook from a slight tremble. Fear, Tobirama concluded.

He clenched his teeth and breathed through the tight feeling in his chest. “Y/n, we don’t need to stretch the interval as much-,”

“No,” you interjected firmly, eyes snapping open, giving him a sharp look. “We do. You know it. I know it.”

Now was Tobirama’s turn to close his eyes. “I don’t want you to suffer,” he whispered, his baritone voice near breaking again just from uttering these words and yet firm all the same. The tight feeling became worse

“I know,” you replied, haunted. “I know.” Your gaze was sorrowful. Knowing. Tobirama leaned forward to grasp your hand again and enclose it in his, letting his chakra coat your networks in the familiar, warm way. He didn’t know what else to do for your comfort. “Thank you,” you muttered again, forming yet another weak smile.

His head hung low as he simply basked in feeling you like this. The small nudge you were giving his sensitive network made him gasp slightly. 

The moment was interrupted by the door swinging open. Tobirama’s head shot up to find his brother standing in the doorway. Looking more rested than he himself did, most likely. When he had reapplied his face paint after washing himself, there definitely had been dark rings under his eyes.

“Good morning,” Hashirama announced warmly, rounding the bed to stand beside Tobirama when he realised you were on your right side. “How are you?”

As you explained your condition to him, Tobirama gently grazed over your chakra network once more before drawing back slowly to free your hand. He’d be on his way soon, anyway.

Hashirama nodded. “Very well. I singled out a few medications that should help us stabilize you, as I mentioned. It’d be best to take them while you’re still, ah, responsive.”

“You mean when I’m not spitting it back at you?”, you deadpanned. Tobirama near froze at the image. All he could think of was how his hand had forced your mouth open, then poured the torture drug in and forcefully constricted your airway to make you swallow it.

Hashirama cleared his throat. “Well, you haven’t managed that so far.” Tobirama snorted in quite a cynical way then, earning him an arched eyebrow from you. Hashirama shot each of you a meaningful glance before continuing slowly. “Still..., it might be necessary to draw additional seals to release the medications transdermally.”

Tobirama’s head whipped to the side to stare at his brother. “That will aggravate the overload.”

Hashirama held up his hands defensively already. “The seals I have in mind for this purpose only add very, very little of the user’s chakra to the patient.” Tobirama wasn’t quite convinced yet as his scowl indicated. But then forcing things down your throat wasn’t gentle, either. 

“And we’re also going to modify your nutrition, accommodating for the duress you find yourself in,” he added softly, but no less serious.

That made you snort now, but in a disgusted way. “Oh, I know what that’s going to taste like.” Every shinobi in the field on long missions knew that, in fact.

Tobirama wasn’t having any of it though. Already, he became riled up. “Y/n, we're not going to discuss-”

“I know, I know,” you already deflected exasperatedly, waving your free hand to calm him down. He leaned back in his chair then and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright. Now that that’s out of the way,” Hashirama sighed, stepping closer to you. “May I?”, he extended his hand to take yours.

That was Tobirama’s clue. He wasn’t of any use here right now. He leaned closer to you yet again, expression mellowing. “I’ll be back soon, Y/n,” he promised for the lack of a better phrase. Anything else - anything mundane like ‘take care’ - just seemed wrong at this point. You nodded, trying another brave smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. Tobirama hoped his did.

He left the hospital to head straight for the interrogation and information headquarters, then, after having picked up his latest experiment with him.

It was already bustling with activity despite the early hour. Perhaps another mission finished. He didn’t dwell on it, really. Instead he headed to where he knew to find Ikuro; nodding towards the few familiar faces he made out. Apparently news about his task had made the round since nobody stopped him on his was through the small corridors past various offices. For a group that was euphemistically described as ‘interrogators’, everything seemed awfully quiet here. The walls must be thick. 

Ikuro indeed was behind the desk in the sparsely decorated office that adjourned the cell block holding the six prisoners. He greeted Tobirama with the oddly warm smile and a nod. “Back again,” his voice was quiet, deceptively soft.

“Back again.” Tobirama repeated, raising an eyebrow. Exchanging pleasantries was something he really had no time for - given his - your - predicament. Any waste of time felt like a crime at this point. And then again, he never liked chitchat much. “Any news?”

Ikuro shook his head. “Not regarding your problem, I’m afraid, given we know Zenji is the only one to interrogate about that. I take it you made progress, however.”

That was unsurprising. Despite all that happened, it had only been a day. A single day. “Something to test out, yes.”

Ikuro’s smile spread slightly. Tobirama wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but quickly decided he didn’t care enough to form an opinion just yet. “There is one question though,” his smile faded. Tobirama frowned. “Now that we know Zenji is the only one who knows how to make the leash, do you want to use it on him again? I know we did the last time, however, if we permanently injure him…” He trailed off, but Tobirama well caught the implication.

He crossed his arms then. A fair point that he hadn’t considered yet. Since there were six prisoners in total, he had more than enough test subjects to choose from. But picking Zenji had the additional possible merit of gleaning more information about the leash during the interrogation, at the cost of, well, risking him. It all boiled down to whether Tobirama was confident enough in his work to not harm a person permanently, or not.

He hated it. But, “The substance I brought with me today will be more aggressive than the one I used last time. So, no. Let’s pick someone else. If it works well, we’ll focus on him again.” He was set on giving that man hell until he gave up his secrets. Or Tobirama had figured it out himself. Either way.

Ikuro nodded then. “Alright. We’ll pay a visit to Kimi.” The smile was back again.

Tobirama instead scowled, his tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Why do I get the fleeting notion that is the loony one from the far end?”

Ikuro bellowed a sudden laugh that startled him, both eyebrows rising. He wouldn’t figure this man’s humour out, really. “You are as perceptive as they say, Tobirama.” Then he rose to full size and Tobirama followed with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. The walk down the cell block was accompanied by the well-known feeling of eyes on him. Not that Tobirama cared for those, either. Except for one pair. 

Zenji’s. His scarlet eyes darted to the side when they passed the middle cell. Tobirama was satisfied to find his black-bruised jaw was swollen. The look the man gave him was nothing short of hateful. He never broke his stride and followed Ikuro, surprised Zenji didn’t holler anything after him. Perhaps the jaw just hurt too much, hm.

Finally they reached Kimi’s cell. Like all the others, she also was chained up and sealed away. Her gaze seemed empty, staring a hole into the ceiling. That would soon change, Tobirama knew. Ikuro unlocked the cell. “Kimi,” he greeted warmly, like she was a friend.

“Go fuck yourself,” she shot back instantly but perfectly nonchalant. Tobirama’s eyebrows shot up. So much for friends. Her blue eyes locked with Tobirama’s. “Oh,” suddenly, her tone was infused with a shrill kind of adoration. “A high visitor!” Tobirama had to refuse the urge to cover his ears. “Tell me, tell me,” she chanted, swinging back and forth in the chains that held her. “How’s Y/n, how is she? Mhm?”, she exposed surprisingly bright teeth in a grotesque smile.

Tobirama didn’t even find her worth talking to; he could only roll his eyes and sigh exasperatedly. Enemies like this he knew to take serious - erratic behaviour covered up some of the most impressive techniques. But this wasn’t a fight. And he wasn’t about to try and converse with the likes of her. Not even in a cynical banter. He gazed at Ikuro. “Shall we?”

Kimi moaned loudly. “Awh, come on!”, it was an obscenely wanton sound. “Gimme a shred, please, please, please? I’m missing Y/n so, so much!”

Tobirama started to wonder if he had to break another jaw here. The ire that started to burn in his veins again surely provided enough fuel. His head tilted forward slightly as his stare narrowed, darkening.

Ikuro was already next to Kimi, shaking his head. He must’ve guessed at Tobirama’s thoughts - not that his body language wasn't enough of a giveaway. 

Kimi wasn’t helping her situation. “Tobirama Senju doesn’t find me worth talking tooo!”, she screamed then in a most offended way, loud enough for probably everyone in this building to hear. Not that she was wrong in any way. This woman would be better off without her vocal chords.

“Kimi,” Ikuro began, still sugary sweet. “You’re going to help us a little.” His hand seized the back of her head already, grasping her brown hair firmly.

She stiffened immediately, but the smile that spread over her lips now was nothing short of malicious. Typical, Tobirama figured - completely mad behaviour, but far from idiotic. “Oh.” It was a sharp sound. “My turn to get your itty-bitty-wannabe-leash?”

Tobirama’s mien remained completely impassive. “Are you going to open your mouth or are we going to have to force you, like your compatriot?”, entirely unfazed by threatening her with violence.

Not that she was fazed, either. And smart enough to know better than to put up a fight now. “I always wanted to taste the stuff, mhm,” she tried to nod her head, but Ikuro’s grip was iron already. “No need to break my jaw like dumb Zenji’s. Show me what y’got, Tobirama Senju, show me,” she then moaned again, lasciviously almost.

Tobirama’s lips drew into a disgusted scowl. “Good grief, how do you work with these people,” he scoffed. Ikuro was grinning widely. “I should’ve picked Zenji,” he added almost inaudibly. Kimi opened her mouth wide and stuck her tongue out, licking over her lower lip in distasteful ways. Still, he didn’t trust her for one second. And the contents of this vial were too precious for this maniac to spit back at him, which he was sure she would. His free hand seized her jaw tightly so that if she bit down, she’d seriously injure her cheeks. Kimi already spluttered. The moment Tobirama felt she wanted to speak more, he simply applied more pressure. He had enough of this nutcase.

Swiftly, he poured the contents of his vial into her mouth and in a well practiced move pressed down harshly on her nose and mouth to force her to swallow. Her eyes became glassy - luckily, he had been wise enough to keep her mouth shut, because he was perfectly sure she’d have licked his hand or done something equally disgusting had he not.

Not that much was needed. Obediently, she swallowed.

Followed by a shrill scream. Tobirama’s patience was a candle that burned on both ends at this point. He didn’t even put it past Kimi that this was precisely what she was aiming for but by all that he believed in, it worked. The woman let out a heavy tirade of sexually loaded metaphors about what she was seeing and feeling that might have turned a more innocent person bright red on the spot.

It elicited nothing but fast growing annoyance out of Tobirama, however. And Ikuro was grinning as he closed his eyes. He gave him a dark glare. The man had known, for sure. This better yielded good results. When he reached for her throat to examine her, his hand grasped so tightly Kimi’s voice got stuck in its tracks and all that remained was a small rivulet of obscenities at Ikuro, who had begun to invade her mind again. Squeaks, no more.

Much more bearable.

Now to examine her. He made no effort to be gentle about this whatsoever. Ikuro’s work was marvellous as before. Unsurprisingly, Kimi’s mental defense was nothing short of impressive. Perhaps Tobirama was imagining it, but Ikuro’s methods seemed different here - more brutal. More smothering. Akin to what he had done to Akio - less thought to the risk he was running. Was Ikuro himself fed up with her? The thought darkly amused Tobirama.

Kimi stayed completely stable throughout the whole procedure. Her chakra flow was almost as muted as yours was after indigestion of the leash, however it picked up again during the session. Tobirama had expected it, but with the additional experience in the whole weaving process, it gave him clues on how to improve on that. Briefly he stopped monitoring her to take a blood sample. Not an easy task as there was no patch of skin exposed save for her neck and head, so he had to go for the jugular artery as the veins would be collapsed. It bore a slight risk - but none that Tobirama even cared about. Unceremoniously he stabbed the needle in where he felt the pulse after having released his choke hold on her throat - an opportunity she used to gargle out profanities at both him and Ikuro, but the mental assault heavily impaired her ability to form coherent sentences. What was coherent by her standards anyway, Tobirama figured. After he had gotten what he needed from her neck, he continued to monitor her. The half-frozen state of her chakra remained steady for a while before it dropped more.

Ikuro began to retreat then, slowly. 

“Wait,” Tobirama instructed. His presence lingered then, still keeping Kimi in a mental choking hold.

As her chakra became less and less mute, the disruption kicked in more. And with it, for the first time there seemed to be genuine distress in the prisoner, indicated not by crude insults, but a genuine groan of pain. 

“Interesting,” Tobirama muttered, smugly, almost. Kimi whimpered while Tobirama took time to thoroughly investigate how her chakra tried to repel his disruption, over and over again - and each time, the reaction became worse for it, accompanied by a never ending stream of pained expressions. Watching the agony unfolding inside of her.

He felt no satisfaction, no. But he was pleased. A success, finally.

After a while of monitoring, he took another blood example. Ikuro was frowning now. “I’m not sure how much more she’ll take, mentally,” he announced.

“Well, physically, she’s well off. I won't say anything about her mental state, that has been debatable to begin with," Tobirama grunted. This was nothing compared to what you went through. The plight they ultimately had put you in.

Ikuro withdrew then, but Tobirama had to stay. After all, the disruption first had to fade at some point. He knew it would - this wasn’t the leash,  yet . But it was the right way. Slowly, Kimi’s body started to clear out the disruptive components alongside her chakra - another fascinating realisation that was different to when he had examined you. In you, the leash stuck - no matter how much your unmuted chakra and body battled it, it just kept on disruption and repelling it, thus causing the detrimental health effects. But Kimi’s cleared Tobirama’s out.

He withdrew then. Ikuro raised an expectant eyebrow. “She will be fine,” Tobirama announced, turning on his heels to leave the cell. He had new material to work with.

Ikuro followed swiftly after locking the cell containing the now limp Kimi.

The glare Zenji gave Tobirama now was decidedly murderous. Tobirama grinned back, darkly. Arrogantly. Zenji might as well know he was on their heels. His threats have not been empty. He almost had passed the cell, when Zenji’s strained voice echoed through the cell block: “Four more days, Tobirama fucking Senju,” the pain was obvious. Good. Nobody had healed the fracture, then. “Don’t think for a second you’re anywhere near perfection yet! Y/n’s gonna die so fucking miserably!”

Tobirama kept on walking, ignoring the new flare of ire in his veins. The urge to turn on his heels and break his jaw in new ways. Hell, rearrange his damned face. No, Zenji was beneath him he kept telling himself as he ground his teeth so hard his own jaws hurt. Back in the office, Ikuro closed the door. “I’m impressed, Tobirama.” His gaze was appreciative. For a split second, he believed this to be about reigning his temper in and was about to reply in a most impolite way to such a condescending remark, but he quickly realised this was not the case.

“Thanks.” Try as he might, he couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice. The praise for his work was hollow when he reminded himself why he was doing this - and that it was far from perfect yet. “I’ll be back soon. I trust you didn’t learn anything pertaining to my task?”, not that he thought so, but he had to ask anyway.

“Sadly, no. It was a fruitful session, especially considering it was Kimi, but it seems Zenji’s slip up was not a false lead. She really does not seem to know about the leash’s creation.” Then, he frowned. “But, she adamantly guarded anything relating to the leash. Perhaps there is more to glean from her.

Tobirama’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Well, then we know to build up more pressure.” 

Ikuro nodded, surprisingly somber now. “Indeed. I’ll inform you if anything from the other prisoners might come up.”

Tobirama bowed slightly. “Thank you.” Ikuro was a good man to work with. 

A second later, the world lurched and the hiraishin seal transported him back to your room, where the little victory he celebrated dissipated swiftly.

The mood was dreary - and the innate hum he felt due to his sensory skills had picked up from the last time. It could only mean one thing. By now it was high noon and the sun’s light reflected off of the room’s pale furniture. Hashirama’s back was turned to him but the blanket was pushed aside - revealing your marred legs. On them, more seals, which he couldn’t make out precisely at this distance. Instantly, Tobirama rounded your bed swiftly, to find Hashirama working on the heart seal. Still, he couldn’t help but gasp when he saw your whole form revealed like this: a shadow of your former self and almost no part of you that didn’t bear a barely healing mark of torture. It didn’t deter him from analysing the situation, but it’d never fail to drive a proverbial blade through his heart.

Your breaths were quick and shallow again and Tobirama was sure to hear a rumble in there. Not good. Your lung was affected. Combined with the fact your body definitely was paler than before and the sheen of sweat that covered your skin, the situation was obvious.  You didn’t move - and in your face, the grimace of pain was etched into your skin.

It was worse than before. And they hadn’t stretched the interval as much as before, yet.

Hashirama’s gaze swept up to him when he had finished what Tobirama guessed was strengthening the seal that supported your heart. His mien was grave. “We can’t wait much longer.” He gave Tobirama a quick rundown of what had happened: the withdrawal had kicked in again as before, but the symptoms developed faster, and more severe. As he had guessed, your lung was starting to suffer damage not just on the slight, microscopic level Tobirama had witnessed during the first stretch but in a greater margin. Your cardiovascular system required more support as your heart struggled, too. He still hadn’t intervened directly, yet.

Tobirama swallowed finally and nodded and nodded. Then, he looked down on your legs. Each bore another seal meant for transdermal release of the agents the seal in the middle was soaked in. “You drew more seals?” he inquired, terse again.

“We had to,” Hashirama explained, his hand back on your arm and his eyes closed. “Her lucid intervals are too short to ensure her taking the medication by herself. This is more effective and safer.”

“Safer?”, Tobirama shot back, sternly. “There are six seals on her now. Which means we barely have any room for additional chakra based options, if any, without overloading her.”

Hashirama clicked his tongue. “I am well aware, Tobirama,” a slight hint of strain had snuck into his voice now. But instead of angering him, it did the opposite - Tobirama realised how serious your condition was for his brother to even let a sliver of exasperation slip into his tone. And besides. He didn’t say any more.

All they were doing here - it was all dangerous. Too dangerous. They were running into dead ends, either way - be it the leash or the withdrawal of it. And to make you suffer, for a few precious hours? Tobirama swallowed hard against the shortness of breath that gripped this thorax tightly suddenly. “Anjia, I don’t think we should continue. Y/n is suffering and I -,” he swallowed again as his scarlet gaze swept to your face and the hurt in his heart was near unbearable again, “I cannot condone this.”

Hashirama’s eyes flew open and he gave Tobirama a deep frown. “She doesn’t want us to stop. So don’t.”

His gaze wandered to his brother, frowning himself now. “If she dies from the withdrawal, then it was pointless,” he nearly growled, voice stern again, if just to cover up for the gaping hole that the ache was boring into his chest in a most agonizing way.

“She’s not dying. Have more faith in me, Tobirama - and most importantly, her,” he gazed back at you then, voice becoming softer, fonder. Tobirama would never fail to be amazed by his brother’s optimism.

In a very sarcastic way.

“I’m not doubting you or her, anija,” and the sheer notion of him doing so did well enough to distract him from the terrible heartache simply for how furious it made him, “What I am doubting is what we’re up against - effects of something I haven’t fully understood yet or been able to recreate!”

Hashirama took a sharp breath. “On the other hand, we can evaluate her condition, react accordingly and adjust the figurative sails. We will not run a risk. You said so yourself. That, we do know.”

Tobirama looked back on your tormented form. Then he closed his eyes slowly. He hated it - he hated all of this - but he knew, deep down, he knew it - they’d need to continue down the path they had chosen. All of this - it would end soon. Either way. All he could do was to ensure it ended favourably, swiftly. And for as long as it lasted he’d need to remind himself of the promise he had made to you. No matter what. If Hashirama found your condition stable enough to continue - he’d trust him. He had no other choice but to.

“How much longer until the next dose?”, Tobirama asked then, the numb feeling spreading again. He welcomed it. The numbness muted all of the grief, of the ache. His focus returned.

“Not much. Might as well prepare it.” Hashirama instructed, politely refraining from commenting on Tobirama’s falter further.

He nodded and made for doing just that. Not twenty minutes later, they administered it - again, you were stirring from the force with which Tobirama had to pry your mouth open to pour the hated liquid in. The pained way in which you groaned echoed quietly in the sparsely furnitured room as he focused on not spilling a drop while gripping your jaw with vice strength again and holding it open. Uttering apologies he knew you couldn’t hear but he made nonetheless. After he made you swallow it you stilled again.

It had whatever brief respite - if it could’ve been called that - they had gained by stretching the intervals and thus making for more time null. Impressively, it had been shown you paid the price in proverbial blood and if it continued, literal blood might follow.

Tobirama’s only rest would be when he literally crashed, now.

[ailec-12]

Ahhhhhhh congrats to reaching 100!!! It‘s super deserved! Could I request something for House Potter, please? Like, maybe something with Sev and Sirius along the lines of hurt/comfort? But no pressure, if that is too much or would be too fast-forward into the story! :) thanks!!

Thank you so much, Anon, you're so sweet! I'm sorry you've had to wait so long to see this prompt done —I hope you'll actually see it!—, especially since it was the first one I started to write back in October. I just got a little stuck with it halfway through, but I loved it and hope you'll enjoy it, too.

I decided to take today off to rest and, though I know I probably shouldn't have, I couldn't help sitting down and finally finishing this prompt. I don't have the energy to edit it, but I wanted to post it anyway.

So, this is set in the future, but let's imagine Sev and Sirius have made no progress whatsoever in the meantime. Also, the Potters have either moved out or gone on holiday.

Also on AO3.

No Harm Done

He told himself, as he took James’s broom without breathing a word of it to anyone, that it was okay. James did let him have it, so it was none of Sirius’s business what Severus did with it. A voice in his head begged to differ, but he ignored it and ploughed on.

He was nervous and excited, although, in all honesty, it was hard to distinguish one feeling from the other. After all, the clench in his stomach and the tingling in his fingers seemed to fit well together. It was the first time he would be flying alone and his mouth had become completely dry long before he had sneaked out the broom. Still, he had no doubts about wanting to carry on with his plan and Sirius, who had come to watch over them and was currently sleeping on the sofa with Harry, did not ever need to know.

The day was clear, if a little windy. Severus mounted and kicked the ground once, firmly. The broom took off at once and he gripped the handle tightly before relaxing his grip ever so slightly.

Flying felt great, exhilarating. Any fears he may have harboured stayed well below him.

He was not confident enough yet to try some of the stunts that James performed as easily as breathing. However, he enjoying riding higher than any of the adults would likely have allowed as well as going round and round in progressively smaller circles. He was enjoying himself so much that, when he started to descend, he miscalculated the higher speed he had achieved. When he saw the ground come closer far too fast, he pulled up the handle abruptly and the broom responded with a sharp jump. Startled, Severus saw his own fall in slow motion: the way his hands failed to regain hold of the wood, how his body flew a bit higher than the broom and how the ground greeting him face first. The world around him went deadly silent.

The impact left no air in his lungs. He tried to take a breath and succeeded after a few desperate attempts. The pain came afterwards. Gingerly, he sat up to examine the damage. Although the grass had surely softened his fall, one of his arms hurt from the wrist to the elbow. His jumper was covered with green stains, as were his jeans. Luckily, he had not ripped anything off, but his knees hurt when he stood up.

All these thoughts were forgotten once he spotted the broom. James’s racing broom, the once he had used for matches at Hogwarts. Severus’s blood ran cold. If he had broken the damn thing…

His hands were shaking uncontrollably when he took it, but his heart began to beat again as he observed no major damage. There were some sticks that stuck out of place and a few scratches on the handle that would not look amiss in a well-worn broom —that is, if James did not keep his in prime condition. He was bound to notice, Severus knew, fearing the moment. He might be lucky enough that James may just think he forgot to fix it before putting it away the last time he rode it. Severus was aware that he was not half bad at lying and, although it left a bitter taste on his tongue sometimes, he was too much of a coward to take the blame if he could avoid it.

And yet, his thoughts were useless, for he never had the chance to do any of it. Halfway through the house, the back door slammed open and revealed Sirius, thus freezing Severus on the spot.

“Where the—” Sirius started to yell. Then, he saw Severus and strode in his direction. The boy gripped the broom, but did not move. “What the fuck, Snape? You were flying?”

His hands were trembling again as he offered the broom. He had been caught, so there was nothing to do but manage the damage.

“I didn’t break it, it’s fine,” he said mulishly, as if that could cover up the fact that he was unable to look up, instead keeping his eyes focused on Sirius’s tight fists.

“What the hell happened to you, though? Did you roll down a hill? Wait, did you fall while you were flying?” Sirius did not snatch the broom while berating him, as Severus had expected. “Fuck, you’re hurt.”

His tone became strangely flat when delivering the last sentence and the boy was unsure how he should interpret it. What could Sirius plan to do with that information?

“I’m fine,” he snapped, just in case.

Sirius’s fists relaxed a little.

“Really? So blood just comes out of your knee on occasion?”

His black eyes snapped down and he saw a darker stain than the ones from grass and dirt. His cheeks became warmer and he faced Sirius’s smirk, offering a scowl of his own.

“I’m fine. May I go to clean up?”

His heart was beating very fast. What if Sirius said ‘no’? Severus did not understand why that was so frightening. The most the man could do was not let him get out of his dirty clothes, maybe force him to stand in a corner all day until Lily and James got home past his bedtime. Sirius could not hurt him, they would not allow it —they had promised. And yet, Severus waited with bated breath for the answer.

“Let me check first. I don’t need anyone come down on me ‘cause I neglected you.”

For some reason, that did it. Severus dropped the broom and made a dash for the door that led inside the house. ‘Stupid,’ he would think a second later, when he realised he should have run in the opposite direction, even if the open field did not feel any safer when the other was a grown wizard with a wand.

Before he was aware of what was happening, there was something encircling his waist and trapping him.

“L– Let me go!” He could not help the way his voice sounded high pitched and scared. He did not want anyone to know he was scared.

He hit Sirius’s arm and tried to kick him, too. He struggled for a while and did not stop to see whether he was doing any real damage. He felt numb and detached and maybe fear was still there despite his best efforts.

“Ow, ow! Snape, stop! Bollocks, you twat, I was j– Okay, that’s it!”

And then, the ground under his feet disappeared. He may have let out a pathetic shrill until he got hold of himself, shut his eyes very tightly and kept still. His breathes were the only sound for a short second. Then, a likely livid Sirius carried him inside the house, stomping all the while. He took him to the living room and put him down in front of the couch. Nearby, Harry was playing with his moving animal toys.

“Sit down,” Sirius growled and Severus obeyed.

At the same time, Harry stumbled over them and demanded,

“Sev, play!”

The older boy only shook his head, leaving Sirius to explain just in how much trouble he was at the moment.

“Harry, I’ve got an important mission for you,” Sirius said, solemnly but still warmer than he ever addressed Severus. The toddler looked up. “You watch that Snape stays put till I come back, all right?”

Harry nodded, reciprocating the solemnity, and turning back around, repeated his request to play together. Severus refused in silence, letting his hair fall on his face and focusing on not letting fall the tears that had started to gather in his eyes.

He had mucked it up really badly that time. He had panicked and attacked an adult —a man that James considered his own brother. The world was a blur and his ragged breaths flooded his ears.

“Snape.”

An impatient voice broke his train of thought. Minutes could have passed, or perhaps hours. He looked up and saw a very irritated Sirius holding up a familiar blue bottle in one hand and his wand in another.

“Calmer now, aren’t you?” the man huffed. “Roll up your trouser leg, let me see what we’re dealing with.”

Severus shook his head vehemently. He did not understand what was going on, but his eyes were still fixed on the wand. His breathing was still making that horrible sound.

“Hurt?” pipped up Harry somewhere next to him.

“Yeah, mate, Snape’s hurt and too ruddy stubborn to let me help.”

Help? What did Sirius understand for help when it came down to a brat like him?

“No ‘Nape, Sev!” Harry corrected all of a sudden, drawing Severus’s attention to the pair.

There was a small chubby finger pointed at him and, when he looked at Sirius —his face, not his wand—, the man had a bemused expression.

“Right,” he said after a moment, turning his terrible grey eyes towards Severus. “Well, Sev, will you please roll up your trouser leg so I can heal your knee?”

Sirius dragged the short nickname with all the smugness he was able to muster and the boy found he did not like it any better than hearing his surname.

“I’m fine,” he tried once again, but his voice sounded small and frightened as his anger failed to rise.

Sirius let out a weary sigh and handed him the blue bottle. After looking between the children, he decided to put his wand between his teeth. Then, with no hurry, he proceeded to pull up Severus’s damaged trousers himself.

The bottle trembled in his grasp. The boy bit his lip and tightened his fingers around it. Staying still was his only task now.

Sirius was excruciatingly slow until he finally revealed the cut on his knee. It had stopped bleeding and clearly did not merit so much care, but there was no comment on it or the mess it had made. In fact, for once, Sirius forwent his habitual cutting remarks and kept mostly quiet, only speaking to assure Harry that everything was okay.

Severus was pretty sure he stopped breathing when the wand came near him. Yet, he did not move. He felt something warm and, when he looked down, the cut had disappeared. A cold feeling ensued as Sirius washed the dry blood away with a cloth under Severus’s fascinated gaze. The bottle was taken from his hands as Sirius began to apply it on his knee, even though the bruise had not appeared yet.

Next, the man rolled up his other trouser leg.

“Does it hurt here, too?”

Severus was about to shake his head again, but Sirius was staring at him intently and the boy knew his lie would be caught.

“Just a little,” he mumbled, looking back down.

Some balm was applied on that area as well without another word. Severus pondered whether he could ask for some for his wrist and elbow, but Sirius proceeded to examine his arms himself. The boy could not help a sharp intake of breath when Sirius took hold of his wrist.

“This has swollen.”

“It’s not broken,” Severus hurried to assure.

Sirius frowned at him, although he did not look angry.

“No, it’s not, but let me…”

And he moved his wand in a different pattern until both the redness and swelling had faded away. Still, he applied some balm there and on his elbow. Severus had no idea whether he should be more surprised that Sirius was healing him or that he apparently knew where to look for injuries.

At long last, they were done and Sirius obliged Harry by sitting him on his lap. A dense silence settled between him and Severus, who tried to still his fingers by burying them in the hem of his jumper. Eventually, the boy was the one to break the quiet.

“The broom…” he started, peeking at the open door, in the direction where the magical object remained lying on the grass.

“Accio Prongs’s broom.”

Harry was very excited to see his father’s broom flying towards them and Sirius let him grab the end of the handle while he examined it. Severus could not relax completely, but at least the man’s face was not giving him any more reason to panic.

“We’ve all fallen on our arses while riding; more than once, actually,” Sirius remarked, almost offhandedly. Then, he looked up, straight into Severus’s black eyes. “There’s no harm done, so I suppose no one needs to know… as long as you’re careful next time and let someone know before flying off.”

The unexpected reprieve from Sirius of all people took a moment to register in Severus’s brain. He hurried to wipe the shock off his face and nodded with all his might.

“I will, I swear!”

The man looked at him for a bit longer, until he turned to his godson with a big smirk.

“Harry, you up for beating Severus at Exploding Snap?”

[nothisis-ridiculous]

Take Me Home Now: Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen: Teardrop In My Eye

Set after the events of ME3.

A rewrite. Ao3.

FemShepxKaidan

"Smith, you are being relieved of duty."

"Sir?" Jane stumbled, her smile turned downward.

The man laughed, clapping her on the shoulder, "only for the day, thought it would get you."

She sneered, "always an ass."

"Though," his green eyes sparkled, it was not settling, "you have company."

Fuck.

She pulled the elastic from her hair, attempting to pull her blonde locks from the day-long wear of a ponytail. In the end, it was pointless, she had thrown it up wet- a braid would have to hide the indent. Jane could do nothing for the simple hoodie and slacks she had thrown into her locker that morning. Forcing herself to take a seat, she pulled in slow breaths until her mind took heed. It was small potatoes.

Gingerly, she finished the jaunt outside of the Human Embassy and combination C-Sec building.

Evelyn slammed into her side, a good three inches added to the kid, "we're going to space!"

"We would have rang, but you know," Roy pointed to his wrist, his smile cautious.

Jane had avoided anything technology-related, she would have done it much earlier in her life if it were not for necessity. This was an old game, the response a sheepish smile. It was an act of avoidance. But she was trying to do the moving on thing: she had an apartment and a stable job. Sure, it was working as a guard for the relay that led to the Citadel, but it was moving in a direction she was comfortable... if not bored doing. It involved a lot of people watching, as using the relay was not the most sophisticated way to the station. The last person had fallen in drunk and almost drowned upon arrival. Now it functioned more as a memorial for all those lost in the war. She kept the peace and that was enough.

"Are you here to visit the Memorial?" Jane jabbed her finger toward the building, it would give her an excuse to spend some time with them. To clear the air.

Rahna suggested she may be ready.

"We're here to see you, silly!" Evelyn cooed, taking the woman's face in her hands, "you're a little less glowy."

"You're a little less short."

Evelyn returned with a moderately careful headbutt. Helen didn't look too approving as the child sauntered away but cracked a grin. Roy still couldn't manage a full smile.

Jane needed to clear another thing.

"What did you need me for?" she was careful, trying not to let the statement come out in a bark. These visits would always end in the same question, and it was getting harder to say no.

"We're hoping you'd watch our place while we are gone, " Helen finally chimed in, the stern look had softened over months. The strange silence between them never improved much, "we know it's sudden, but if we didn't have to go through Rahna to-"

"Helen," Roy soothed.

"We got it all approved, and we'd even pay you on top of it."

"I'm sure the beam won't miss you-" he paled at his words.

"I'm sure Harold won't miss you-" Roy tried to diffuse Jane's bubbling before it could erupt. The hand on her elbow gripped tighter as she tugged away. It devolved to his full strength pulling around her as she screamed, pleading that they didn't take the Reaper away. Bargaining became a barrage of hate and seething words, still, he held his recruit tightly until she collapsed.

If it was once, the guilt might have faded.

But Jane was stubborn, requiring steady arms until the derelict ship was nothing but an imprint in the ground. The woman didn't leave the crater left behind for the next day, her gaze avoiding him at all costs.

Jane looked up, if only to avoid the sudden turn of emotion, "I suppose it wouldn't."

When this is over, I'm going to be waiting for you. You'd better show up.

Don't get me wrong, I'm gonna fight like hell for the chance to hold you again.

"Is that a yes?"

His evident enthusiasm worked a giggle from the blonde, "it would probably do me good to get out of this city. I heard the English Bay is nice." Jane offered out a hand to him.

Roy swallowed her into a tight embrace, disregarding if the simple gesture was out of forgiveness or striking a deal. It had been far too long, and his recruit been left far too long without proper fatherly affection. Or he was giddy from good news, it was hard to tell.

"When do we need to leave?"

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jane examined the scattering of personal items in the apartment. Living light on military ships (excepting pets) followed her through to civilian life. Everything she owned could fit into a footlocker without fancy folding. A knife for whittling if she got bored. Shower supplies, her underwhelming supply of clothing, the M-77 because why not. But her eyes stopped on her bedside.

A blank picture frame and the chit to an omnitool would be innocuous to anyone else. It was everything in the world she refused to touch but couldn't look away from. Was it love for her own misery? Or owning up to herself. That other person knocked. She wasn't ready. Couldn't she be ready?

Her fingers graced over the chit, watching it light and unfold. The device would only unlock for an authorized user, and somehow she was that user. Anderson's face popped in on the screen. The panicked expression was no longer a surprise as he searched for something out of shot from the recording, but his eyes eventually returned to the device.

"Shepard, I-"

Jane cut it off, the device flickering away as quickly as it formed. It was two words further than the last attempt. It would have to count as progress.

The picture frame came next, but not even a jolt of power betrayed a change. It was empty, devoid. Still, as if it was familiar, her thumb caressed over the glass surface.

"Kaidan, I-"

Jane's throat seized, the name was still hard to form, "eight hundred and fifty-one days. Tomorrow will mark eight hundred and fifty-two days."

She had long surpassed the days he had in waiting for her not to be dead. She had kept her promise. She had waited, was waiting. Now, Jane had to go. The landlord given notice, her job with a note of apology attached to a resignation letter. Jane felt afraid.

"I'm sorry."

The picture flickered to life, the bubbling of the tank behind her a dull murmur. It took a few rounds, but she settled into the chair, staring at the frame like it was supposed to do something. Her ear tilted for the door, hoping that it would slide open. Wasn't that how the time before a suicide mission was supposed to go? A last-minute confession, sex to blow off some steam before the genuine threat of death.

Mary was waiting, nor would she question the miracle that would have to bring him here.

"Shepard, I could patch you through," Edi chimed in gently.

Slow breathing, counting, clenching her jaw and releasing it kept her busy for five minutes before she let herself consider it. It was her way to leave him on unread, but is that how she wanted to go out again? Was that immaturity the memory she wanted to leave for Kaidan? In the same thought, a call wasn't mature either, but if she died the shame would be short-lived after all. She wanted nothing more than to hear his voice, to feel something akin to comfort. Mary was afraid.

"Edi, send the c-"

Her tool blipped, "I've already programmed a block."

"Thank you, Edi."

Mary fawned over the code, re-entering it several times until she felt a little less panicked. The first attempt ended a few counts after the tool attempted the connection. She shouldn't. What could her greed jeopardize?

She settled back in her chair, sending herself through another wave of madness. The email running through her mind again. She didn't want that to be the last thing she heard from him. Besides, what was he to Cerberus if she was gone? Her greed entered the number again, this time it patched through. Connecting, connecting, connecting until it timed out.

Mary held back on questioning Edi.

She waited again, promising herself this would be the last try. 'Connection' scrawled on the screen within seconds.

"Hello?"

Kaidan's voice was groggy, his rasp evident that he had just woken wherever he was.

"Hello?" he tried again, with mild frustration.

"Look, this is a secured-," he spat, but his voice dropped, "if this isn't- if this- dammit."

The voice waited, but Mary was frozen. She hadn't planned a word, this was a terrible idea. Stupid.

"This is a little insane," he let out a small chuckle, "and will look bad if this just ends up on the extranet. But, just in case," he paused again, pulling in a steadying breath, "if it's what, who, I think it is. Really, the Omega 4 relay? I-I thought Ilos was bad, that is a whole new level of-"

Kaidan cut himself off, waiting, questioning if he should continue. But it made a strange kind of sense. Who else could it be? She wouldn't call unless it were dire.

"Whatever you are doing, be careful. The galaxy needs you back, I ne- just, be careful."

Both parties lulling to sleep at the memory.

Jane set the frame down, it could be a gift for the next tenant. Perhaps they could program it with something/ The chit slipped into her pocket, her gaze winding to the door. She waited, shook her head, and swept up the handles of the black footlocker. Again, Jane stared at the door. Praying for a miracle.

The rigors of hauling the footlocker at a clipped pace down several flights of stairs did nothing to stop the shaking. Echoes of footsteps turned into the voices of her crew, the bad, the ugly, and all of the good memories. Garrus's mandible quivering in silent frustration as she made the shot atop the presidium, Tali's indignation at the 'induction port' as she tried to slip it into her suit. Liara always deep in thought, scanning over the work of the Shadow Broker, Javik who never got his wish of dying with the rest of his kind. Vega's shock as she decimated his pull-up record, and Edi taking up Joker's hand in a quiet moment. Tears splattered on the steps. Was this the end?

She couldn't stop them as she stepped into the light of day, awaited by three figures.

"That's all?" Roy huffed, taking the luggage from her.

Helen placed a hand on her shoulder, "it will get easier."

The older woman forced Jane to look her in the eyes, dark brown meeting blue, "you should make the call."

"But you-"

"You know Roy won't let it go until you're all settled."

The LT was always worried about her, even if they weren't on speaking terms. Jane knew all she had to do was reach out, but the pang of guilt was too much. It was always this way, and her soul grew tired of the mind that housed it.

This was a horrible way to treat the family that kept coming back for her months after they had returned home to Vancouver. They kept worrying when she struggled to care about herself. They kept asking her to return home with them, to give her a new life. They hadn't stopped loving her after every no, despite her asinine rigidity to an old promise. Despite the lingering secrets she barely kept from them. Jane was sick of herself, too.

Jane nodded, pulling in a deep breath.

"It will get better," Helen murmured, "after you've taken the time to be pissed off for a while."

She didn't fight a grin, nodding again just to make sure she was assured. Leaving the woman to enter the room her fingers didn't hesitate this time. Entering the code she had memorized too long ago.

Three calls later- silence was her answer.

Unable to save face, Jane stormed past Helen.

"I'm sorry for how I left last time," her head hung, but this time she returned the touch, briefly touching the hand on her shoulder.

The older woman shrugged, pointing her at the shuttle.

Jane nodded, wasting no further time by sliding into the back. Evelyn chattered into her ear; Jane tried to keep paying attention but found her mind wandering. The familiar stirring of her stomach starting within moments of take-off. She had grown a little used to a hardsuit that would deliver the meds into her system.

The paper bag landed in her hands without a word.

The vehicle fell silent, save for the buzzing of the radio-

"The Normandy returns to the Citadel after a Victory run spanning over-"

"The Normandy is back?" Jane bleated meekly through the bag.

"Oh- yeah! Our son made it," Roy smiled, but it was partially forced, "sounds like this 'Shepard' wasn't so lucky."

Jane's stomach emptied into the bag, Happy Birthday Shepard.

[annerly-san]

Progression - [Chapter 1: Differential]

Primary Character Pairing: Choso x Reader/Female OC Story Summary: Life is never stagnant. It progresses and changes as does the people who live through it. Like a complex differential equation, it twists and curves with its ups and downs with each person having their own unique curve. But for her, the rate at which she progressed in life was zero as she moved linearly despairingly with no end in sight. That was until she met a cursed spirit who set her life back in progression. Chapter Navigation: Next Chapter

The concept of family leaves a foul taste in the mouth.

Obligations to owe and expectations to fulfill are but a few of the countless other burdens that come in conjunction with what a family entails.

And within this world of magic and curses, family is but a burden.

She continued to uphold her well-rehearsed, demure smile despite being worn and absolutely exhausted. Her opponent in front of her casually stood there with a hand on the hip and his head tilted to the side— unfazed and unbothered by her persistent barrage of attacks earlier. The fluff of white hair pulled up and back by the blindfold stood as a testament to remind her that she wasn’t even an opponent to be considered seriously.

He didn’t need to pretend to be tired at all.

“How much longer do you think you can keep pretending to smile like that, Gojo-chan?”

The words were spoken in snide mockery as her opponent bore the same familial name.

“You jest, Gojo-sensei.” The retort was short and spoken without the intent to play along with any insinuations.

Satoru Gojo had not changed one bit since she had first met him.

“She doesn’t look like me at all, does she, Suguru?”

He towered over her at the time. She remembered seeing those strikingly clear, blue eyes— sharp and piercing as they bore into her with a scrutiny unwarranted for a child at the time.

Two hands had reached out and grabbed her at the sides as she was hoisted several feet in the air to be turned back and forth, handled and examined like she was just some doll.

“You should put her down, she’s clearly uncomfortable.” Suguru, as he was referred to, placed a hand on Satoru’s shoulder whilst giving a firm glance of disapproval. He shot her a sympathetic smile as she was put down by the pouting teenager.

“How can she be uncomfortable when she’s smiling like that?” He begrudgingly asked his companion before putting two hands up in the air as to showcase his resignation. “But still to think that this little distant cousin of mine is supposed to bring in a new line of techniques for the clan is making me feel already less special~,” Satoru whined in jest as Suguru gave him a playful whack on the back. The white-haired sorcerer had wandered off, leaving her with an upset feeling of unsettled unpleasantness broiling in the pit of her stomach.

Those feelings were temporarily put on the side when his companion crouched down to meet her at eye level.

“Don’t worry about any of that, ok? If you’re ever sick of this guy, you can always come to find me.” Suguru reached down to pet her head in a strangely reassuring way. Comfort and ease had taken over her and her smile had unknowingly slipped off as the soft timbre of his voice lulled her in a sense of warm solace that she had never felt before. “My name is Geto Suguru. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Her head felt warm from where he had placed it before, and she had watched him catch up to her cousin’s side with a lopsided smile on her face.

The rate of those thrown punches coming at her were slow; she made them as such. Her innate ability, “Differential”, functioned on the rate of change principles from calculus and mechanics. Mathematicians, engineers, and scientists have long seen and quantified the inner workings of the world through equations. “Differential” allowed her to perceive the differential equation which models the behavior or qualities of an object and apply a “derivative” to it in order to adjust its rate of change. Simple equations such as the rate at which light refracts from the cornea of the eye to see are constant; taking the derivative of it amounts it to zero and thereby allows for someone’s vision to stop working. In this case, her perception of the logarithmic speed (ln(x)) of those punches have been derived to the equation of 1/x and will increasingly become slower and slower as more time passes.

It was a mutated trait from the original Gojo family’s “Limitless” technique. While the original skill operated under the fundamental principle of a limit with techniques operating under the mathematical principles of convergence and divergence in summations and series, hers was more focused upon the rate of change at a “fixed point” existing on a specific plane. From its proofing from calculus her technique took the limit as it approaches zero between two points allowed for the rate of change to be solved for and adjusted.

And so for things that move through time and space, she can easily avoid and counter them.

She dodged the first three punches with ease before countering with a sweep kick to the knees; however, the activation of Infinity didn’t allow for the attack to land as intended.

An upwards kick was evaded as she jumped backwards several steps to place sufficient distance between herself and Satoru.

“Hmmm~. We’re at around twenty minutes now. How are you holding up? Still smiling as always, I see.” She watched intently as Satoru leaned back and stretched out an arm lazily. “Should we call it quits now? You’re lasting longer than our last spar by around five minutes. That’s impressive growth, but you haven’t reached your fullest potential yet.”

She wondered if things would have been less tense or awkward between herself and Satoru had they not hailed from the same lineage. Resigning now to rest would only prove as a setback and insult to what was expected of her in addition to her own self-worth. There would be no resignation. No matter needed to be put forth on her end.

“I-I can continue, Gojo-sensei.” Her smile did not fall from her face despite how tired she was.

She stood up straighter and calmed her breaths.

Her still outer demeanor did not match the thoughts that were racing within her mind.

His Infinity was an issue. She would not be able to do anything about that nor about his convergence and divergence techniques of red and blue simply due to the nature of it resulting in something either undefined or unusable when taking the derivative of an abstract such as infinity, sums, and series.

But perhaps this would work.

The distance between the two of them was approximately fifteen. She needed five to try out her new method.

A breath in.

A breath out.

She dashed in to close the distance.

~~~

“Wow, I can’t believe that you were actually able to do that, Gojo-chan!”

She awakened and opened her eyes to see up to the ceiling of the infirmary. Gojo-sensei was sitting at her bedside with a tilted head, quirky smile, and a book that he must have been reading in the meantime while she was asleep. “Was that a new application of your “Differential”? I can’t believe that you actually rendered my Six Eyes blind for a good minute there.”

Her head hurt as she tried to recall the events of the sparring session before she had blacked out.

Upon closing the gap between them, at the five meter mark, she had Gojo-sensei in range.

Activating Differential, she was able to see the six constants that were governing the rate of perception for Gojo-sensei’s Six Eyes. She drew a shaky breath as she applied “Derivative” six times for each ‘eye’ and watched with elation as her teacher’s face became overcome with a sense of shock and surprise.

She quickly threw a punch aimed at his face in the hopes that the deactivation of his Six Eyes would affect the automatic response of Infinity somewhat.

That hope was dashed as her fist was stuck hovering in front of his nose, unable to proceed further to tangible result.

Leaping back, she stumbled as an sickening nausea overcame her and imbalance struck at her legs. Her vision was blurring and a strange ringing sound overcame her ears as she heard what was vaguely her name.

For some reason, she was kneeling on the ground with both hands in front propping her up. She bent her head up to see a white blur of what may have been Gojo-sensei running towards her, but her head was heavy and her vision was strangely red. Letting her head drop back down, she blinked and saw what seemed to be drops of blood dripping to the ground.

It was the last thing she saw.

“-Anyways, I was SO shocked that you started crying blood or something. You almost looked like a curse, ahahaha!”

Her thoughts were drawn back to reality as she tuned back into listening to what Gojo-sensei was saying.

“Man, if I didn’t manually activate Infinity, you might actually have hit me and gave me a bloody nose!”

She smiled and let out a breathy laugh. “Is that so?”

Gojo-sensei leaned in closer to the bed railing and placed a hand on her head.

“Yes. You did good.”

There was a warm elation in her chest from being praised. It didn’t happen often, though it left a strange feeling in her from being praised by Gojo of all people. It filled the cavity in her chest, but those words didn’t seem to be the ones that she was waiting for. Whatever it was she was feeling, it disappeared as quickly as it came for her teacher said his next words.

“Ah, but it seems that taking the differential six times is your current limit. Man, I don’t know how I’m going to deal with you and your younger siblings when they enroll next. I heard a lot of stuff about them~.”

Ah.

Her younger siblings.

The mention brought a bitter taste to her mouth and the lurking of a foul emotion within her heart. But she smiled as though it wasn’t the case.

“Hm, yes, my younger siblings. My sister definitely has more talent with the technique than I do, and my brother is well on his way. They might be the ones that’ll give you the most trouble, Gojo-sensei.”

She watched her teacher laugh.

Behind that coy smile and blindfold, she wondered if he could see through her facade and see her true feelings beneath.

But even if he could, he didn’t make a comment on it.

“I told Hakari, and he’s worried about you, you know!” Gojo-sensei continued. “We both keep telling you that you’re being too hard on yourself! Shouko keeps complaining to me about caring for my students more, you know!” He pouted. “I care about my students.” He rubbed her head as to prove a point.

There was a simmering frustration that was building in her abdomen.

“I know that, sensei. I’ll be more aware about that. Is Hakari alright?”

Her fellow classmate in the college, Kinji Hakari, was a third-year student like her. Due to the incident last year, he was on suspension.

“Oh he’s alright. He keeps saying that he’s bored to death being suspended and all and that he’s worried about you killing yourself when he’s not there with you.”

Perhaps it was said with good intentions. But it seemed patronizing. Maybe it was because it was spoken by those who were born with naturally strong talents compared to her who had worked to the point of injury in order to be a contender as their equal. That emotion in her stomach grew and started to burn and corrode away at her insides.

She laughed softly. “Please tell him that I appreciate the concern. I’m waiting for him to get back as well.”

Gojo-sensei had stood up muttering something about being a messenger boy and was readying himself to leave. As though he forgot something, he suddenly exclaimed aloud.

“Aha! I almost forgot to tell you too.” He whirled back around to face her. “There’s a whole queue of missions for you. All grade 2 or lower. It shouldn’t be much trouble for you, but be careful since you know-“ he gestured to the infirmary bed that she laid in as to drive home the point. “You get the idea.”

He left the room.

And she let out a sigh before slumping back down in the bed and closing her eyes.

It felt as though there was a crushing weight against her chest.

Taking care of the assigned curses was a simple task.

Despite her teacher’s reluctance at sending her out to the initial mission when she had gotten so adversely injured during a simple sparring match, everything turned out alright.

It had been a good while since that had passed on the order of months, but with the shortage of jujitsu sorcerers and Hakari still on suspension, it was only natural for her to handle things like this.

She stared down at her hands, which have unconsciously and naturally formed firm fists sitting in her lap.

With being tasked with an onslaught of more and more missions, she quickly rose to the rank of semi-grade 1. She was grateful for the opportunity as she needed this as a chance to raise her rank and further her worth.

She wasn’t talented, after all.

From the moment she was born, she remembered the crushing weight of anxiety bearing down on her at each step and misstep she took. The looks of disappointment, the yelling and screaming, the endless lectures, and the unbearable weight of it all.

Maybe it would have been better to have been born a disappointment to begin with. So that no one would make her carry these expectations on her weary back.

Her grandmother was actually the one to first develop the “Differential” ability. But the woman was originally an outcast of the Gojo clan and took her technique personally as a means to spite the ones that had looked down on her before. It carried the unbelievably petty burden of one day being able to surpass the main line of Limitless techniques.

So when her father, uncles, and aunts failed to inherit any of the “Differential” traits, they were marked as failures and the family was laughed at for daring to think that they could surpass the main line of inherited techniques.

That was until she awakened.

Up until the age of five, she was treated as a worthless and filthy object. Her mother was someone able to see cursed spirits, but had no innate techniques to deal with them, and despite having spite for the main Gojo family, her grandmother viewed her mother-- and by extension, her-- as a taint on the family line of sorcerers. Her first-cousins, unable to see curses much less use techniques though borne to two sorcerer parents, were treated with delicate care and spoiled by her grandparents beyond belief. And she was treated and called as the vermin of the bunch. Her father did nothing to refute that claim while her mother took out the insults of inferiority and stain on her as the byproduct and embodiment of that she hated. A living burden that tied her down to a family clan that did nothing else but mock her.

But that changed.

Suddenly one day, while her mother was hysterically screaming and cursing the old hag within the confines of their home, a stray curse wandered in.

She remembered what it looked like.

At the time she was patting her sister’s back, trying to turn invisible in the midst of her mother’s rage as she did her utmost to not earn her ire. Her younger sister, a toddler barely learning how to walk, cried incessantly at the loud banging and clashing of pots and pans as they were flung about the house.

The clanging stopped briefly as the air chilled and silenced; a grotesque hand of oozing purple goop clutched at the hallway corner.

A cry broke out. Her sister.

Loud gurgling sounds rang out as her mother desperately avoided looking at the monster as to not warrant its attention as one that can perceive it.

But she didn’t know better.

The curse had several green eyes embedded in the goop of mess that constituted its body and it let out a warbling bellow as all those eyes narrowed in to meet hers in a chilling stare.

It took a step forth.

She held her breath as she continued to stare at it with an intense fear.

It began to approach her rapidly.

And she remembered begging in her mind for it to stop. She didn’t want it to approach her anymore.

It stopped.

Not much was remembered after that as adults came and well-qualified sorcerers took care of the curse that was just frozen in place.

She had passed out by then and woke up to a new world that was unbelievably scary and confusing. A new world of just so many expectations.

This sudden twisting change from being viewed as less than trash to invaluable gold crushed and suffocated her.

From cultivating this new skill, surpassing some “Gojo Satoru”, shoving it in her grandmother’s face, and so, so, much more. It was dizzying. Nauseating.

One misstep signaled Armageddon. One pause meant weakness. One tear was failure.

As she sat on the bus bench in the lonely countryside, her breaths felt labored like she had to push a stone brick weighing several tons off her chest a few millimeters so that she didn’t suffocate under its weight.

Her promotion isn’t too far away. She was a semi-grade 1 at the moment and was handling missions smoothly and effectively. It’s only a matter of time before it will all be over.

The road was dull and illuminated with the yellowed lights of the street lamp.

Her thoughts traversed back to the events of present day back at the school.

There was buzz on things happening back at the school, but she had not had the chance to listen in on the details of the news. The Sister Exchange event would have happened around now. She’s missed it now unfortunately, but she thought that she had heard something about the first years being roped in to fill in the third year’s vacancy and they did well enough. What was interesting that she had regrettably missed out on hearing more about was the first year student, Itadori Yuuji, who was apparently the vessel for Sukuna, the King of Curses.

She wondered if he was feeling as burdened as she was. He probably had heavy expectations too.

Footsteps were heard and a strange presence of cursed energy lurked nearby on the road.

Senses were heightened as she pulled away from her mind’s musing to hone in on the present at hand.

There was one curse. No. Three.

Her eyes followed the curved line of the road to where it bent behind some trees, and she saw three shadows walking along it without much caution or care.

A chill went down her spine. The combined auras was overwhelming. They were at least a grade higher than hers— at least Grade 1, but it would seem that all three could very well be Special Grade curses.

There shouldn’t be a cluster of special grade curses like this.

While there shouldn’t be, she did recall hearing about the strange events and appearances of strong, special grade curses with a sentience recently.

She hoped that this wouldn’t be the case.

The first one out of the shadows was a man. He looked extremely tired with prominent purple rings around his eyes and an odd rectangular stripe across his nose. He wore baggy pants and a loose, long sleeved shirt paired with a series of black sashes wrapping around his waist, shoulders, and neck. As he walked, his wild, messy, black hair tied into two prominent bunches on his head flounced around.

He took up physical space and appeared human if it were not for the immensely crushing amount of cursed energy that shrouded around him like a dense fog.

His other two companions slowly came into view. The other two were definitively curses. One was turquoise with a hunched back. It had a prominent mouth on its middle that dripped blood and a humanoid husk of a face where its head would have been.

The other held similar form but significantly more humanoid. In the center of the abdomen was a pair of red eyes and a smaller mouth. This curse was flesh colored with a more defined human form and a similar deformed humanoid head on the top.

“Nii-san, is she the one we were supposed to be looking for?” The turquoise one spoke seemingly to the most human of the group.

“That’s right.” His voice was low in timbre with a strange sense of calm and echo to it. “That amount of cursed energy and presence... It’s most definitely the relative of Satoru Gojo that we were supposed to find.”

Her breath was caught in her chest.

They were most definitely Special-grade curses. Beyond their appearances in taking physical form through some sort of manifestation, they were sentient and individually held a tremendous amount of cursed energy.

What was worse was that their target was her.

If it was simply one, then she may have handled alright against a special grade with some collateral damage, but against three her odds of victory were slim.

There wasn’t a chance to escape with the three of them having locked onto her like this, and even if she did manage to, she would most definitely return as a failure sorcerer who flaked when faced with what her purpose in life should be.

There wasn’t a choice.

She breathed out.

The wind blowing calmly around her as the three curses continued their approach lulled her into an odd sense of tranquility to brace her for what was to come.

The fight was here.

[enigmainvestigations]

AO3 post: ???    Series link: ???

Some of the paint was chipping off the mural. Its massive length spanned almost the entire wall of the walkway, making it almost fifteen feet long. The painting was rather crude in its depiction of the island, juvenile, as if it was created by an unskilled artist. Most of it was large blue strokes to represent water, with a large slab of green floating in the middle in an attempt to resemble the island. Blots of green brush strokes depicted trees, with blue four-leafed flowers speckling the landscape. The island was void of any buildings, except for a tiny mansion perched on the top of the green blob. At least the artist hadn’t taken too much liberty with the scale and hadn’t tried to make the mansion appear much larger than it should. There was tiny writing next to the mansion. It read: "Gotham House of Madness and Ill Humors"

Edward Nigma took a step back from the mural and concluded that perhaps it wasn’t supposed to be some beautiful depiction of a rich family’s property. But it did seem odd. What was the point of the mural if it was only going to be a slab of green painted over a slab of blue? And that begged the question: why was it painted at all? He tilted his head to look down the walkway to the mural’s end and heard someone call his last name from the hall behind him. They were far away, and he decided he didn’t need to hurry with his examination. Looking down to the other end of the mural, he saw there was a tiny blotch in the water, and Edward assumed it was supposed to be a boat. Strange to paint only one, he thought.

“Nigma.” The voice called again. This time it was much closer, and followed by the sounds of heavy footsteps advancing in his direction. They slowed as the orderly drew nearer and came to a stop at his side. “I know you heard me calling you. If ya wanna know what I think, that’s not the best way to start your first day in the wing.”

Edward ignored him and lifted a finger to point at the mural. “I’ve never seen this before.”

The orderly looked at the mural and shrugged. “Welp, you’ve never been in this wing before.”

“Doesn’t it seem strange to you?” Edward asked.

“Out of all the strange things I see in this building, it’s probably on the least strange side a’ things.” The orderly shifted his feet and waved a hand in front of Edward’s face to break his concentration on the painting. “You can stare at this later, alright? Dr. Leland wants ta see you.”

Edward found that odd. He had spoken to her yesterday morning, and she had implied it’d be a while before they’d speak again. A chime broke out over the loudspeakers, signifying the guard shift change. Edward let out a deep sigh and turned toward the orderly, noting the slight show of fear in his eyes. “Alright then, ready when you are.”

The man looked suspicious, yet grateful of Edward’s compliance. “Thanks, Edward. I’ll escort you over there.”

Normally, that suggestion would get on Edward’s nerves. It was understandable that a patient might need supervision, but it always felt like they were implying he needed babysitting, as if he’d fall down the elevator shaft if he was left on his own. Currently, though, he didn’t mind the offer. Not all of the guards were aware of his transfer, and the last thing he needed was for one to spot him and sound the alarm in fear of his attempted escape. That was the last thing he wanted, he didn’t feel like being tackled to the ground today.

As the two men proceeded down the hallway, the vapid sound of speech hit Edward’s ears. He was coming to the decision he didn’t like this ward as much as the Rutan Wing. Initially, he’d found the more populated wing to be more exciting. The groups of people were a welcome change after his previous surroundings outside the asylum, but those feelings were wearing off quickly. At least the Rutan Wing was quiet and mostly empty. It wasn’t entirely a “Wing” of the asylum, just a smaller ward, but his room had a decent view of the Trigate Bridge. The dayroom was typically empty, and he’d spent most of his time reading or listening to the guard’s radio at the security station. At the time, he felt that the lack of activity was dull, and he was itching for a change in the environment.

But, last night the orderlies and guards had come to his room and said he was being transferred. He’d assumed they were taking him to a more secure area of the asylum. But they’d brought him here, the wing at the front; the least secure wing in the whole building. At first, he’d seen this as an achievement. If Dr. Leland was moving him to the front wing, it must be a statement about his progress. That he could be trusted with less supervision, and that he was getting better. He’d never even seen these wards before, and it was fascinating to see how the non-threatening patients experienced the asylum. They were allowed to wander around the halls freely -- well, mostly freely. But, it was certainly much more freedom than Edward was used to on this island.

The issues that arose became clear rather fast. Since the other patients had more freedom, it meant he had to interact with them more than usual, and they interacted with him with much curiosity. He started to find the chatter, noise, and hectic energy of the ward unsettling. So unsettling that he found himself wandering the halls until he found a spot where the echoing voices were much quieter. His tiny room in Rutan was starting to sound like paradise compared to this.

The orderly motioned Edward down the hall that led to the main clerical offices. He’d been there a few times during his frequent lock-ups in the facility. Usually, it was during his multiple escapes from his cell -- either breaking into offices to snoop for information, or for stealing certain supplies to aid in a more dramatic escape from the asylum. He’d always enjoyed watching the police and guards try to figure out how he’d disappeared, or how he’d gathered the supplies to enact his theatrical exit. It had always been an exciting experience being here, until the Bat had designed him a new cell. Then he began to understand why the others disliked their confinement in Arkham so deeply.

The two men stopped at Dr. Leland’s office door, and Edward watched as the orderly knocked and opened the door for him to enter. “Nigma is here for his appointment, doctor.”

Dr. Leland thanked the orderly and motioned for Edward to sit in the guest seat in front of her desk. Sitting down, he made himself comfortable, though it was mostly for appearances. Dr. Joan Leland wasn’t an unintelligent woman, regardless of her sense of morality that certainly made her do stupid things. She was one of the “good ones,” believing that the patients in this asylum were capable of rehabilitation and living normal lives. This belief had remained firm, even after the magnitude of evidence she’d witnessed that proved she might be wrong.

Edward watched the doctor finish filing some paperwork, and he resisted the urge to fidget his fingers. Dr. Leland was smart and observant; she would certainly notice his unease. But Edward knew that she also didn’t do things without reason, and there were too many odd occurrences to indicate something was going on with his situation. Putting a file away in her desk drawer, the doctor finally looked at him -- right in the eye, as she usually did.

“Hello, Dr. Leland,” Edward said, trying to sound casual.

“Hello, Edward. How are you liking the Thayer Wing?” Dr. Leland asked with her typical direct approach.

“It's okay.”

“Just okay?” Dr. Leland arched her brow.

It looked like she found that in conflict with what she’d assumed, so Edward adjusted. “I'm enjoying the broader freedoms. I spent all morning in the library, that was enjoyable.”

Dr. Leland eyed him closely. She did this quite often, and it was obvious she did so when she was trying to decipher if Edward was lying. “That's good, I had a feeling you'd take advantage of that amenity immediately.” She scribbled down a few notes, then gave him a calm smile. “How are you adjusting to the people? The wing is much more populated than what you’re used to, has that been a concern?”

“No.” Edward lied.

Dr. Leland didn’t catch the deception and began writing down a few more notes in his file. “I see. I know it's just been one day, but how do you feel about the new schedule?”

Edward found that a bit strange. He hadn’t been told of any schedule changes, but he decided not to dwell on it. “It's alright.”

The doctor nodded and flipped through a few pages in his patient logs. “I see your stitches were removed… you have a clean bill of health.” Signing off on some of the papers, she finally looked him in the eye again. “Are you still in communication with Ms. Quinzell?”

“No,” Edward said, a slight chuckle in his voice.

“Really?” Dr. Leland’s brow arched again.

Edward sighed. “You monitor everything I do, doc. You'd know before I would if she was trying to get in contact with me.”

The doctor leaned back in her seat, tapping her pen between her fingers as she examined him and Edward examined her in return. It seemed strange that she was more concerned about his contact with Harley than his adjustment to the new wing. He was starting to feel like she was going down some kind of checklist, but for what, he couldn’t imagine.

“If she does try to contact you, what would you do?”

Edward huffed. “I doubt she would, but I would just tell her to leave me alone.”

“You would?”

“Yes,” Edward answered, annoyance showing in his voice. “I'm sorry, doc, but what is going on here?”

“What makes you think something is?” After the words left her mouth, she appeared to catch herself and waved an apologetic hand in his direction. “I'm sorry, Edward. Sometimes it’s difficult to get my mind to drop old habits with you.” Dr. Leland set her pen down and rested her elbows on the desktop. “Edward, we had our meeting with the superintendents today. When Dr. Young heard about your progress, she was very impressed.”

That wasn’t the answer he was expecting, and he found himself confused on how best to respond. “Is that a good thing for me?”

Dr. Leland paused, and her eyes averted from Edward’s for a brief moment. “Things are being run differently here now. With new head doctors, new procedures --”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Edward cut her off. “Jerry is dead, and now things are different. I’ve heard all of that enough since I’ve been back. Can I ask you to please skip the public relations speech and just get to the point? Or would that request be considered part of my unproductive personality traits?”

“You're being released, Edward.” The doctor said flatly.

“I'm what, now?”

Dr. Leland paused again and folded her fingers together in an attempt to seem more forthcoming. “The head doctors think that, since you've progressed in your treatment, and you aren't exhibiting any aggressive tenancies -- they think you're a good candidate for the supervised release program.”

Edward stared at her, his disbelief apparent on his face. He let out a small chuckle. “This is a joke. This has got to be a joke, right?”

“No, it's not a joke.”

His eyes narrowed and his mouth was slightly agape as the weight of what she’d said set in. “Have you all gone insane? Has everyone in this building lost their minds? You can't release me.”

Dr. Leland jumped on that statement, quickly adding, “Why is that, Edward?”

“I can't go out there! I'm me!” he exclaimed, though tightly gripped the armrests of his chair to control his temper. Dr. Leland was watching him closely, her eyes searching for something as if she was looking for a clarification of some sort. Edward could feel his pulse rising and a tremble beginning in his hands. He leaned forward and spoke calmly, yet directly. “Look me in the eye, doc, and tell me you think I'm ready to be a part of society.”

The doctor contemplated that question for a moment before averting her eyes again. “You are no longer a danger to yourself or to others. That is the major reason you were the property of the state.”

Edward scoffed. “Oh, so now that I'm not dangerous I'm suddenly not "crazy" anymore, and I get kicked out?”

Dr. Leland’s eye very subtly twitched. “That's the way the rules work.”

Edward’s grip tightened on the armrests, his eyes darting around as his mind tried to come up with a solution. “Can I re-admit myself?”

“We're an asylum for the criminally insane, Edward, so, no. But you can admit yourself to a different hospital.”

“I can't believe this,” he said as he threw his hands up in exasperation.

Dr. Leland leaned forward, and lowered her voice in an attempt to calm him. “Edward, I know this is frightening. But you will have another doctor to continue to help you adjust --”

“I don’t want another doctor, I want you to be my doctor!” He noticed a somber realization flicker in her eyes, and he tried to slow his breathing. She had been his most frequently appointed doctor whenever he was at the asylum, and, once he’d made the decision to reach out, she’d been willing to listen to him. But that had taken years of sessions, years of him playing with her mind and refusing to speak. He’d had time to observe her, and he knew she would honestly provide assistance. The thought of talking with someone new was inconceivable.  

Edward released his grip on the chair and rested his elbows on the desktop in front of him. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to just -- to start taking this seriously, and start letting my guard down?”

Dr. Leland leaned in more as well. “I know that was very hard for you, and I know that you can do it again.” Her expression was strong, as if she was trying to show him how much she believed those words. “Your new doctor won’t have as many patients, they’ll be able to give you more personalized care. It will be better for you.”

“Who are they?” Edward asked in a huff, “Who is my new doctor?”

A hint of sadness flared in Dr. Leland’s eye, and she tried to cover it up with a small smile. “I’m not sure, yet.”

“Wonderful.” He sighed and flopped back in his chair.

“Edward, you can do this,” she said, and her strong expression returned. “You need to keep reminding yourself why you wanted to make a change in your life. Keep that as your cornerstone, and try not to lose focus.”

He shook his head, still in disbelief, “I don’t… have anywhere to go.”

Dr. Leland gave him another sad smile. “You’ll be put on an assistance program. They’ll help you find a place to live, a place to work, and you’ll have some money to help you pay your bills.”

Edward chuckled at that. Yeah, I bet plenty of landlords in this city will be jumping at the chance to have you as a tenant, his thoughts chimed in, and he immediately tried to ignore them.

“How long?” He asked.

“I’m sorry?”

“How long until you all kick me out of here?”

“It takes about a week to get all the paperwork in order.” Noticing the cynical look on his face, Dr. Leland continued, “You can spend that time wisely. You should be thinking about what profession you’d like to go into.”

“What?” That statement yanked him from his internal thoughts.

“Well, you won’t be a criminal, and you’ll have a stamp of approval from the asylum. You should start considering what you’d like to do for employment. You’re very good at gathering information, perhaps you could be a journalist, or a researcher for one of the papers.”

Edward began fidgeting in his chair, and the trembling in his hands started to die down. That was a thought, but completely out of the question. If he was going to be out on the streets, the news of his release was going to spread like a wildfire in the underworld. And working for any news outlet would put him too close to the criminal activity in the city. That line of work would be unreasonably dangerous for him at the moment, but the suggestion had triggered his thoughts to wander. There were other professions he could get involved in, especially if he wanted to stay off of everyone’s radar.

Despite what the state might intend, he was sure they were going to have difficulty finding even a grocer that would allow him to mop their floors for a few measly cents a week. He could already see the hurdles they would have to jump through to find him employment, and something he’d heard on the guard’s radio in Rutan snuck into his memory. The city was desperate for new business owners after all the carnage on the streets the last few months. Many people had had to close down, and migration into the city had trickled down to nothing. The newscaster on the radio often mentioned the officials’ constant complaining about the dwindling funds in the budget.

His doctor shifted in her seat, and the movement pulled him out of his thoughts. She was staring at him, still examining him with those searching eyes. Dr. Leland normally would allow him to get lost in his thoughts, and she rarely interrupted him when he did. But, this time, she looked more curious than usual.

“Did that help calm you down, Edward?” She asked.

He slowly let out a breath, “Yeah.”

“Good. Just remember, you have more possibilities now than you did before, and many more options at your disposal. You don’t have to leave here and get lost again.”

Edward looked her in the eye, “Can I ask for something?”

“That depends on what it is.”

“Can I have some reading material?” Seeing her apprehension, he swiftly explained. “I just want to refresh my memory on the laws, and the current services available for opening a business.”

Dr. Leland tilted her head. “I don’t see why we couldn’t get you some books on the requirements. However, you’re going to have a lot of paperwork to go through the next few days. There is a lot of information you’ll need to get familiar with concerning the current services available to the survivors.” She picked up her pen and scribbled down something on one of her notepads. “I’d suggest you read through all of it, no matter how daunting the volume might be. Those conditions and services apply to you, too, remember.”

He gave a weak shrug. “I’ve never been intimidated by large volumes of information, doctor.”

She attempted to hide a smirk, and gave him a stern look. “Read through all of it, Edward.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll read through it.”

She nodded her approval, then turned her attention down to her notes. She pretended to contemplate them for a moment, and then looked back up at him and fixed her gaze with his. “I know we already went over this, but I’d like to go back to the subject of Ms. Quinzell.” She ignored Edward’s eye roll and set his large patient file aside. “It is a source of concern for me, Edward. I want to ensure that I have explained my position fully before you leave this facility.”

“What else is there --” Edward stopped himself, and his lips thinned. Taking a deep breath, he let it out and motioned for her to continue. “I’m sorry, doc. Go ahead, what is your concern?”

Dr. Leland seemed pleased with his composure. “I know you said you aren’t going to be in communication with her, but you haven’t ever fully explained why you two were in such close communication while she was here. The two of you haven’t ever been hostile toward each other, but you two also never paid much attention to one another. My concern is that something is going on.” She set her pen back down, and her shoulders slumped. “I’m not trying to pry into your personal business, but I’m afraid that if she contacts you then you will talk to her. I don’t think that is a good idea.”

Edward nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but Dr. Leland beat him to it.

“You are doing the hard work to try to live a better life. Ms. Quinzell spent her time here exhibiting her usual behavior, and then escaped from the facility. In my opinion, she is not on the same path that you are, and any communication with her would be detrimental to your rehabilitation.”

Edward fidgeted in his seat and nodded again. “I know, doctor. I think my reluctance to talk about this situation might have given you the wrong idea. Harley and I just -- we had very different experiences during the lockdown. I know it will sound cruel of me to say so, but I was genuinely really surprised that she survived. I was just curious how she did, that’s all. Honestly, doc, that’s it.”

Dr. Leland wasn’t buying that explanation, Edward could see it on her face, so he kept going. “And, I felt like I could talk to her about our experiences. It was easier to discuss it with her, since she was there, albeit under different circumstances, considering her side.”

Dr. Leland perked up, but she did a decent job of not letting her eagerness show too much, “You spoke to Ms. Quinzell about your time on the island?”

“Yeah. As I said, it was easier to talk to someone who already knew a lot of the circumstances.”

“Did it help to talk to her?”

“Kind of. Not really, actually.” Edward ruffled his hair, mentally kicking himself for bringing up the subject. “She understood some things, but -- I mean, it helped at first, but, now, I don’t know.” Edward adjusted his glasses and looked his doctor in the eye. “You don’t have to worry about me talking to her. Harley made her position quite clear, she has no intentions of quitting her criminal behavior. I don’t even see why she’d contact me, since I made my position clear as well.”

Dr. Leland stared at him in silence. She wasn’t showing any tells, but Edward could see it: she was still suspicious. Eventually, she stood from her seat and gave him a final look, “If she contacts you--”

“I won’t speak to her,” Edward confirmed.

The doctor nodded and picked up his patient file, setting it on the filing cabinet behind her. “I apologize for having to cut this discussion short, but I have a patient to assess. I’ll see to it that we get you those legal texts. If you need anything from me, just tell one of the nurses or the orderlies that you’d like to speak with me.”  

Edward agreed and stood from his chair. The doctor stepped around her desk, and Edward moved backward toward the wall to keep a safe distance between them. Watching him, a smile crept across Dr. Leland’s lips. “You don’t need to keep your distance from me, Edward. You’re not in Intensive anymore.”

Hearing her words, he felt a bit foolish. He nodded to her to show that he understood, but remained standing by the wall. Dr. Leland took a step toward him, her smile shifting to a calmer one. “You’ll be alright. Just try not to let your negative thoughts hold you back, and stay on course. If you need me --”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I know where you work, I’m sure I can find you if I need you.” Edward said, triggering a small chuckle from Dr. Leland.

He walked with her out of the office, and she motioned for one of the guards to get Edward an escort. “So, thinking of making your own business. What line of work were you thinking of going into?”

Edward gave her a weak smile, “Finance.”

Dr. Leland gave him a suspicious look, but returned the smile. “Not a bad idea. Lots of money to be had in the world of taxes.”

“Yeah, that’s why I decided I should brush up on the laws.” Despite his honesty, she still looked concerned, though she didn’t voice it. She bid him good day, instructed him to follow the rules, and he watched as she hurried off down the hall to her next appointment. It took a few moments before an orderly showed up to take him back to his wing in the asylum, and he found himself bewildered again. He wasn’t used to being treated with so much lack of concern, and it was beginning to make him feel nervous.

As the two walked back to the Thayer wing, the orderly tried to make some small talk, though his choice in subjects made Edward quickly lose what little interest he’d had in the discussion. As they arrived at the heavy dividing door, the orderly motioned for Edward to go ahead of him and locked the security door behind him with a loud clang. The wandering patients took note of Edward’s return, and he hurried back to the empty hall to avoid the curious stares. His eyes landed on the mural immediately, and he slowed his pace as he walked up to it.

He found himself staring at the tiny, lone boat in the water, and a different sensation hit him. As he looked over the painting, he found that it had a charm to it he hadn’t noticed the first time. The starkness of the island felt calming, and the little blue flowers didn’t look so juvenile now. The blue void of the water was serene, as if it was a protective barrier surrounding the land. He was starting to feel like he understood what the artist was trying to convey. It was something that didn’t require masterful artistic skills to explain, which was probably why they didn’t bother. The island was a sanctuary from the outside world, a tiny home locked away by a river of water. Somewhere where the struggles on the lands surrounding it couldn’t touch. Though the mansion at the top still looked creepy.

Oh, so you’re happy being locked away on islands now? The thought came from nowhere, and he willed it to stop, but his mind persisted. The outside world is too frightening for you, so now you want to be like whatever patient painted this? Locked away in a cage where you’re safe, so the scary bad men can’t hurt you anymore?

His eyes narrowed as his temper began to rise. That wasn’t it, he just wasn’t ready to leave yet. Despite what the doctors said, he knew he hadn’t made enough progress. There were too many issues he was dealing with. He kept telling himself to keep things simple. To keep his world small, and not worry about the larger issues at hand. It wasn’t an emotional decision, it was a logical one. He wasn’t being a coward.

But he couldn’t shake the feelings, now that the thoughts had pointed them out. It could be that he was scared. That he was wasting valuable time sitting around in this cold building. The doctors didn’t want him here, and he’d lost his sanctuary of isolation from the other patients. He wondered why he felt so desperate to stay.

It’s because you’re afraid of what waits outside these walls, his thoughts concluded.

All at once, the mural in front of him had lost its appeal, and he had the impression of being right back where he’d started.

[yootaesowlwrites]

Requested by: Mi1234ll

Request: Can you do b2 and B25 with Lando please?

Prompts: B2*- “You Got Started Without Me.” & B25*- “Let Me Watch You Touch Yourself.”

Warnings: Masturbation, slight nipple play, teasing?, vibrator, nudist, slightly handjob, safe sex (Always be safe). explicit language, explicit, detailed sex scene.

Word Count: 3K

【 • Primary Masterlist • Drivers Masterlist • Lando Norris Masterlist • Fan Fiction Masterlist • 】

【 • Prompt List • Smut Prompt List • Scenario Prompt List • Alternate Universe Prompt List • 】

【 • List Of Characters & Drivers I Write For • Rules & Request • 】

The air felt warm in the bedroom and the only sound that could be heard was the hard breathing coming from (Y/n) as she laid on her back with her legs spread with her hand between her legs holding a vibrator above her clit, her skin had become warm and a barely noticeable layer of sweat coated her skin as she masturbated and tried to make herself cum, Lando hadn’t given her a time when he would be home and she had suddenly started craving for a release and decided to turn to her vibrator she had got for the nights when he wasn’t there, she didn’t think he would be home early since he hadn’t been home early for the entire week, so why would today be any different? She could feel her muscles contracting as her orgasm neared, her mind focusing on the pleasure between her legs.

“(Y/n), I’m home!” Lando announces himself from the front door, her eyes widen as she pulls the vibrator away from her, she rolls off the bed pulling her skirt back into place, and fixing her shirt, she pushes the vibrator underneath the covers and steps over her underwear as she quickly made her way towards the bedroom door, she exits the bedroom only to almost run into Lando as she did.

“Oh, sorry.” (Y/n) says, he could see how flustered she looked and became concerned.

“Hey, are you okay? You look flustered.” Lando says, she nods her head.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just a little hot.” (Y/n) says. “I  uh thought you would be home later?”

“Me too, but then I finished early and decided to come home early,” Lando says, he heard a buzzing sound coming from the bedroom and tilted his head in confusion. “What’s that noise?”

“What noise?” (Y/n) says, but she could hear it and cursed herself for not turning it off.

“That buzzing sound,” Lando says.

“Oh, it must be my phone, I have it on vibrate.” (Y/n) says. “Let me go check.” She quickly steps back into the room, closing the door in his face before speed walking towards the bed, she begins searching for the vibrator when the door opens and Lando walked in.

“I can still hear it,” Lando says as he walks towards the bed, his eyes fall on her phone lying on the nightstand. “Let me help, we’ll find it faster together.”

“No!” (Y/n) quickly says, she clears her throat. “I uh, mean no, go get yourself something to drink, eat and I’ll be right with you.” (Y/n) says, she swallows as she felt her nerves building, she didn’t want Lando to find the vibrator nor did she want him to know that she had one, and she had just used it, but she didn’t know that she had been caught already.

“Nonsense,” Lando says, he grabs the sheets and tosses them to the ground to reveal the buzzing vibrator lying on the bed, (Y/n) could feel her cheeks heat up while he reached for it, he picks it up and examines it. “You got started without me?” He shuts it off, the room becoming silent.

“I uh, um…” (Y/n) begins, but she had no idea how to respond, she was caught.

“You couldn’t have waited for me to get home?” Lando asks as he could feel the blood rush to his cock as he could only imagine what she had been doing with the toy in his hand.

“I uh, just, I couldn’t… I didn’t.” (Y/n) stutters as she searched for words. “I didn’t know when you’d be home.” Lando nods his head and walks around the bed, moving closer to her before moving behind her, his eyes falling to the thong on the floor by her feet.

“Clearly you were in a hurry when you heard me,” Lando says, her eyes fall to the floor to look at her panties, he wraps his arms around her from behind. “Am I doing something wrong?” She could feel his eyes burning into her. “Am I not touching you the way you want me to?” She could feel his breath on the back of her neck.

“No.” (Y/n) breathes out. “You do everything perfectly.”

“Am I not pleasuring you enough?” Lando asks.

“It’s not that.” (Y/n) says, she could feel his hands moving up underneath her shirt, the vibrator still in his hands and moving over her skin.

“If you say so,” Lando says, she could feel his hands stopping underneath her breasts, his hands touching the thin lace fabric from her bra, she sucks in a deep breath as she felt him move the vibrator between her breasts, she had no idea what he was planning or thinking, the vibrator switches on and moved towards her left breast, she could feel the vibrations slowly inch closer towards her swollen nipple.

“Mhm.” (Y/n) hums as she throws her head back against his shoulder, he circles the vibrator around her swollen nipple. “Oh.” Her bra being the only thing separating the toy from touching her skin, Lando could feel her body reacting to his actions.

“You like that, hm?” Lando asks in a low voice.

“Mhm.” (Y/n) could only hum in response.

“Hm, I can feel that you do,” Lando says, the air surrounding them was becoming heated as things slowly progressed between them, she turns her head to look at him only for his lips to brush against hers, capturing them in a heated kiss while continuing to tease her nipple with the vibrator, his other hand slides down her body leaving a burning trail on her skin, his hand inches closer to her skirt, her mind trying to focus on what his hand was doing and where it was going but the sound the feeling of the vibrations on her nipple distracted her, she barely felt him push her skirt down her hips and left it to pool around her feet, she was suddenly aware where his hand was when she felt him rubbing her inner thigh, he pulls away from the kiss, her lips swollen from the hungry kiss. “I can really tell how wet you are and I haven’t even touched you yet.” His fingers were close to slipping between her folds.

“Please.” (Y/n) says, her voice begging him to touch her.

“Please, what?” Lando asks, he wanted to hear her say the words.

“Please touch me.” (Y/n) breathes out, she just wanted to feel his fingers inside her, pleasing her and giving her what she’s been graving for almost an hour.

“Mhm, that sounds inviting,” Lando says, he moves the vibrator down her stomach, the vibrations creating goosebumps on her skin. “But I’m gonna have to decline.” He could see the disbelief on her face as her eyes widen and her nose crinkled as she pouted.

“Wh-what?” (Y/n) asks. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been a naughty girl,” Lando says, his tone husky. “And naughty girls don’t get rewarded.” She could feel the vibrator moving over her hip bone, he must have been messing with her otherwise he would’ve pulled it away by now. “Naughty girls work for their rewards.” The vibrator suddenly shuts off and the room became silent without the buzzing, she lifts her head away from his shoulder wanting to pull out of his grasp, but he held her against him, feeling his breath on the back of her neck before feeling his lips brush against her ear. “Let me watch you touch yourself.” He whispers, he could hear her suck in a deep breath and felt her muscles tense underneath his touch, he unwraps his arms from around her, tossing the vibrator towards the bed and reached for her shirt, he begins lifting it upwards, his knuckles brushing against her skin as he does. “Arms up.” (Y/n) lifts her arms up as she still processed his words, he removes her shirt and drops it to the floor. “I don’t want you to hold back.” He unclasps her bra and pulls the straps down her arms, his knuckles brushing against her soft skin, sending shivers up her spine, his felt gently against her soft skin, the bra falls to the ground, and she stood completely naked.

“I Uhm, okay.” (Y/n) softly says and climbs onto the bed, quickly getting comfortable on the bed, she felt nervous about touching herself in front of him, she had never done something like it before and had no idea how to feel or react, she reaches for the vibrator lying by her feet only for Lando take it away.

“No, no, no,” Lando says. “I want to see you use your hands.” She nods her head, more unsure how she would do it, it was a new feeling for her, and she wasn’t sure if it excited her or not, she could hear Lando putting the vibrator down on the nightstand, just out of her reach. “Don’t be shy.” She was already wet and had no idea where she should begin, she just wanted to dive in and give herself an orgasm, the orgasm she almost had when Lando arrived home, she craved to have that feeling again. “Do you feel comfortable with this?”

“I uh, yeah.” (Y/n) quietly says, she didn’t want to say no, not before she tried it. “I think, I’m nervous.” Lando nods his head.

“Take it slow, if you don’t feel comfortable you don’t have to continue, yeah?” Lando says, he always reassured her during sex and wanted to make sure it was what she wanted, she reaches for her breast with one hand, running her fingers over her swollen nipple before cupping her tit, her other hand moves closer to her mound, she could feel Lando’s eyes watching her every move, she moves her hand between her legs parting them a little more as she started to feel a little more comfortable, she slides her fingers up and down her folds while her other hand played with her nipple, gently pinching the erect nub, she closed her eyes as she momentarily forgets that Lando was watching her, her mind now only focusing on the pressure slowly building up again, her fingers slip between her folds and slowly circles around her sensitive clit, Lando could see her body reacting to her touch as her fingers speed up while circling her clit.

Her eyes open as she felt the bed dip by her feet, she looks down and saw Lando had sat down and was watching her as she touched herself, almost instinctively she opened her legs wider as she felt more confident and comfortable, she watched his reaction as she moves her fingers back and forth over her clit, he could see her muscles reacting to the touch and heard her breathing shorten, but he was mostly focusing on the wet sounds coming from her pussy as she moved her fingers around, it sounded so sinful, and he could feel his cock hardening in his jeans as sinful thoughts filled his mind as he watched her, he felt in a trance while watching her, her stomach sinks in as her muscles tighten, she pinched and twisted her swollen nipple, gasping at the pleasure it caused her.

“Mhm, Lando.” (Y/n) moans his name, hearing her moan his name when he wasn’t touching her made his cock twitch, her eyes fall close as pleasure runs up her spine and her toes curled as she took her throbbing clit between her fingers, her breathing becoming heavier. “Oh, Lando.” Her muscles contracted, and she becomes enveloped with pleasure, her mind became clouded, and she could only focus on the pleasure she was causing herself, the rolls her clit between her fingers. “Oh, mhm, yes.” The pressure builds. “Lando, yes. “ A visible layer of sweat forming on her skin. “Oh.” Her legs begin shaking as the pressure suddenly vanished and was replaced with pleasure running through her, warmth travels up her legs as she played with her clit, her hand falls away from her nipple and onto the soft bedsheets, her hand forming a fist as she twisted the soft fabric between her fingers, he licks his lips as he sees her wetness spilling from her slit as she cums, the pleasure running through her was indescribable, she pulls her fingers away from her pussy, he could see her fingers glistening from her own wetness, his eyes slowly move up her body, her chest moving up and down as she caught her breath, her eyes lazily staring down at him, seeing the lust in his eyes, he could feel his cock pressing against his jeans, needing to be free.

“That was hot,” Lando says as he stood from the bed, he quickly discarded his shirt and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, he removes his shoes and pushes his jeans down, (Y/n) could see the tent that his cock hard formed in his underwear as he stepped out his jeans, he carefully removed his underwear and pushed them to the side once he steps out of them. “I want you to ride me.” (Y/n) pushes herself into a sitting position before moving to the side of the bed, she opens the nightstand drawer and takes out a box filled with condoms, she opens it and takes a packet out.

“You sure?” (Y/n) asks as she hands him the packet, he takes it from her grasp.

“I’m sure,” Lando says, she shuffles closer to him and moves onto her knees, she wraps her hand around his cock, feeling each vein underneath her touch as she moves her hand around his cock, she bites her lip as she lifts her gaze to stare up at him. “Fuck.” Her thumb moves over his tip, spreading the pre-cum dripping from his cock over his cock.

“Mhm.” (Y/n) hums satisfaction, she unwraps her hand allowing him to roll the protection over his erect cock, he lays down on the bed after making sure the condom was secured, she quickly climbed on top of him, her warm soaking pussy hovering just inches above his cock, she wraps her hand around his cock and carefully moves him between her folds, coating his cock with her wetness before placing his tip into her slit, she unwraps her hand and placed it on his chest as she slowly lowers herself down on his hard cock, feeling each inch filling her. “Oh, mhm.”

“Look at how well you’re taking my cock.” Lando says, she sinks lower, feeling her walls clench around him as the pleasure of him filling her felt tremendous, the feeling of her warm walls enveloping him was incredibly pleasurable, he couldn’t explain the feeling, she throws head back in pleasure as her eyes fall closer, she takes her lips between her teeth. “You feel so good.” She lifts her hips before lowering them again, she repeated the movement as she rode his cock, her hands rested on his chest, and he could see her arms squeezing her breasts together, she was too caught up in the pleasure she hadn’t noticed Lando moving underneath her as he reached for the vibrator on the nightstand, she felt his arm brush against hers but didn’t think much about it as her mind was too focused on the pleasure coursing through her, she barely heard the buzzing when he switched it on, he pressed it against her thigh causing her to open her eyes as she felt the vibrations, she looks down and saw him moving the toy over her skin.

“Oh, go-“ (Y/n) moans as the vibrations reached her clit, she throws head back again. “Oh.”

“You look so good riding my cock.” Lando says as he moved the vibrator away from her thigh, as she lowers herself down on his cock, her clit made contact with the vibrating vibrator, he had moved it closer to his cock, and he could feel the vibrations against his skin.

“LANDO!” (Y/n) screams in pleasure, she could feel a pressure quickly building.

“I can feel your walls clenching around me, baby,” Lando says, she stayed still on top of him as eh vibrator was pressed against her clit. “You better keep moving or I’ll take it away.” Not wanting him to take it away she lifted her hips and continued moving up and down his cock, her clit coming in contact with the vibrator each time she lowered herself down, motivating her to move faster, her walls clenched around his cock and Lando could feel himself edging closer to an orgasm, he could feel pleasure running through him as the sounds of her wetness and their skin slapping against each other filled the room along with their panting.

“Mhm.” (Y/n) moans as her nails scratched his chest as her toes curl in pleasure, the immense pleasure clouded her mind. “Lando.” She cries out, he could feel her movements becoming quicker as she edged closer to her release, she lowers herself down and her throbbing clit touches the vibrator once again, her muscles contracts, and she was swallowed by pleasure. “LANDO! OH, LANDO!” He could feel her cumming around his cock as her movements became slower, her mind being lost in delight, her walls continued to clench around him as she released around him.

“Oh, go- fuck, (Y/n).” Lando moans as his cock twitched inside her, giving almost no warning before pleasure washed over him, and he filled the condom with his cum, he moves the vibrator away.

“Oh, mhm.” (Y/n) whimpers with pleasure, she slowly comes to a halt as she lowers her head to look down at Lando, the vibrator laid on the bed next to them still buzzing, her legs feeling shaky from the orgasm she had experienced, the only sound filling the room was their breathing and the buzzing from the vibrator, she stayed on top of him unmoving with him still inside her, it was silent between them as they inhaled deeply.

“Shower?” Lando asks as he broke the silence between them.

“I could use one.”

[xlady-saya]

Hello! I don’t really use this account a whole lot but I wanted to go ahead and make a pinned post, which I’ll hopefully remember to update frequently lol. Anyways, here’s a collection of the fics I’ve written for aftg, andreil, and others so far ^^

progress comes in small steps series [complete]

and we’re just starting to get it [Rated T, 11.1k]

Neil is nothing and everything all at once, the entire universe for Andrew, however small of a universe that is. Even Aaron is starting to see it, though the pieces still don't line up.

And Andrew is trying to convince Aaron that he's never jealous? Yeah right. You don't spend your entire life being denied, being hurt, going through foster care with nothing to call your own only to be okay with someone else trying to take the one bright piece of life you call yours.

Or, Aaron is done with Andrew's shit and makes it his job to prove his brother wrong.

there’s always more to learn [Rated T, 12.3k]

The subject of Katelyn and Neil hasn't felt like dangerous territory in a long time, but Aaron feels the bomb countdown already coming to an end before Bee even opens her mouth.

"Well, the two of them are so alike," Bee goes on, oblivious to the tension leaking into the space. Her smile is pleasant, teasing. "It just goes to show how you and Andrew have similar tastes despite being so different."

The world freezes on its axis.

Andrew inhales a little too loudly the same time Aaron chokes on his spit. "W-What?"

trust is a slow process [Rated T, 7.3k]

If Katelyn had been stealthier, she could've escaped the crowded dance floor without Andrew seeing her.

But of course, she's no Neil.

Or: Katelyn and Andrew spend some unwanted quality time together, and Katelyn sees things for what they are.

someday there won’t be scowls [Rated T, 8.1k]

Neil finds that even with his mind's best efforts to hang onto the wounds of the past, his opinion of Aaron just isn't what it used to be. He can thank Andrew and Katelyn for a lot of it, but his own observations certainly help.

When he sees Aaron like this, the mix of worry and adoration on his face as he thinks of Katelyn, Neil can't help but feel too exposed himself.

It's a start.

I want this touch to be familiar [Rated E, 38.1k]

Deep down, Andrew knew he would always reach this crossroads, a time where the thought became too strong to ignore.

Going all the way with Neil. It's not something he can continue to avoid thinking about. When Andrew looks back to the days where he held Neil's hands down, when he never got off with him in the same room, he's forced to acknowledge how much he's allowed.

Not allowed. Welcomed. Wanted.

But that’s not all there is to it, and the desire to make a decision finally makes itself known.

if magic exists, you’re the closest thing [Rated T, 16.2k]

The concept of love is not one Andrew understands.

For a long time, it escaped him. It's always fuzzy, always distorted. He'd given up on it long ago, so why is he still chasing answers?

Whatever the reason, he's content to blame Jean Moreau for a lot of things, Katelyn too.

It's their fault he's here, at the happiest place on earth.

this red is for you [Rated T, 10.8k]

Katelyn never considered herself capable of doling out violence.

It has always been a far away thought, dampened by college courses and late night dates with her boyfriend. She lives a stereotypical life, despite everything she's been through with Aaron. Aside from her growing connection with the notoriously troublesome Foxes, nothing much about her life has changed.

Even then, she's learning she's still able to surprise herself. When Katelyn witnesses Neil defending Andrew, her own protective rage rears its head, ready to be explored.

And maybe that's a good thing.

an unconventional crossing [Rated T, 8.1k]

Aaron likes to believe he and Andrew have a lot more practice navigating their conversations now. And he’s right, mostly. But sometimes, challenges arise at the strangest times, and especially when their significant others are concerned.

In which Andrew and Aaron run into each other at the grocery store, and choose not to part ways.

the roads I traveled with you [Rated T, 35.5k]

When his brother gets engaged, Aaron doesn't expect it to send his head spinning as much as it does. Marriage has always felt like a dream, or a nightmare, one he never thought either of them would be able to achieve.

In that moment, Aaron remembers what he's always known, what keeps his head above water. He wants to be with Katelyn forever. That's never been a question. But marriage hadn't been brought up. For so long it was this abstract concept, a fantasy. He'd always reasoned with himself that it would happen, rationally of course it would, but now...

Now Andrew has made the idea a reality, and Aaron has to confront his own wants for his future.

one shots/multichapters

I’ve had a love of my own [Rated T, ongoing]

Despite everything Neil could’ve imagined for his life, he never thought he’d be here, finally giving the world the interview they’ve always wanted.

It’s been decades, but even with his numerous accolades and sports wins, he finds that they’re the least important thing about his life.

Neil can’t help but laugh. Andrew would be so annoyed if he were here.

Of course, Neil only wants to talk about him, and the life they spent together.

slurred [Rated M, 1.6k]

They're not the type of people to give up control, but with each other they're willing to bend the rules.

growing pains [Rated T, 10.6k]

Stuart knows it’s perfectly normal for teenagers to have crushes. That’s why he’s not surprised in the slightest when Neil starts acting strange; lighter, happier. However, what he doesn’t expect is for the crush to leak into his everyday life—or literally take up residence in his house. Or: five times Stuart knew Neil was hiding a nighttime guest, and one time he actually met him.

your hands are mine to hold [Rated E, 6.7k]

It has taken a long time for Thea to accept a lot of aspects of their past. Her eyes track the fear in Kevin's eyes, emboldened by how his own resolve wears it away year by year. She'll never take that sight for granted.

It's hard to ignore the weights on both of them, with their lives so eaten up by the Exy world and memories of the Nest, but one thing has always remained consistent.

Thea trusts Kevin Day with her everything, and she'll never hesitate to follow him into battle.

better than a night light [Rated T, 7.3k]

Neil hasn’t had the chance to examine the feeling of fear in a long time. He’s all too familiar with it though; from the nightmares, to the memories of a cold basement floor, he knows the feeling like the back of his hand.

But this fear is new, loaded with ridiculousness and a complete lack of reason. It’s nothing more than pixels on a screen, far away theories that can’t hurt him like his past can.

Maybe that’s why he’s beginning to not mind it as much. It doesn’t hurt that Andrew is also there to hold him through it.

Playtime [Rated E, 6.7k]

There was a time when Andrew might've questioned being so into this.

Not anymore.

take what you want [Rated E, 5.4k]

Laila has come a long way from her freshman year, past all the worries and pressure to behave a certain way. She never thought she’d realize it here, lounging poolside with her girlfriend.

The urge to seduce Alvarez is just too good to let go.

a product of absence [Rated T, 7.8k]

It’s funny, Andrew thinks, that this would be seen as a curse in any other situation. Two people, thrown apart by time and circumstances, desperately searching for one another.

But Andrew has never doubted Neil’s return. He’s not running, he’s not worried. It’s perhaps the only waiting game that’s been worth it, that he understands, because this bond with Neil has only ever made sense to him.

In another life, Neil made this much clear: they would always find each other in the end.

here I am, there you go again [Rated T, 17.5k]

There's many things about the past Neil chooses to leave behind, and most of the time it's for the best. For some reason though, his brain can't help but cling to the last memories of him.

"My Ex." Neil bites his tongue at the word, because it never feels right. At this point, so many years later, that man is no one. A stranger. He shouldn't presume to know him anymore than his ex should presume to know Neil.

If he remembers Neil at all.

But Neil should know better than anyone that the past always has a way of catching up to him, and this time, he's not as willing to run as he might've initially thought.

losing battle [Rated M, 3.4k]

It's always been Nicky's dream to be closer with his cousins. However, when he opens Andrew's mail to find more than he bargained for, he finds himself regretting the wish. Unfortunately, no matter how much Andrew's warmed up to him in the last few years, Nicky's pretty sure he'll die (literally) if Andrew finds out.

Nicky's mission begins.

temper, temper [Rated T, 3.7k]

"You paid for the deluxe package," Neil says as he scrolls through his payment history to find his client's invoice. His system is simple:

Basic Package: Fuck you. A general statement of displeasure and a brief description of the wrongdoing.

Intermediate Package: Fuck you, with passion. Everything in the basic package, but with additional insults. Customizable for an extra fee.

Deluxe Package: Fuck you to hell. Everything from the first two packages, for an extended period of time, and with extra viciousness.

And it looks like Andrew Minyard is the unlucky soul today.

a new contract [Rated T, 7.2k]

Neil’s request is simple on its face, but infinitely complicated given his history.

“Convince your team to sign me.”

And this was Andrew’s deal: If Neil can prove that he’s serious, that he can build a new life for himself so that he doesn’t end up crawling back to Riko, Andrew will convince his coach to recommend him for recruitment in the fall.

Yes, it was meant to be black and white…

But Andrew should’ve known better. Nothing ever is.

What a Rush [Rated E, 1.6k]

It's always Andrew's goal to stretch Neil's pleasure to its limits, and he's barely begun to scratch the surface.

locked together [Rated E, 8.3k]

Andrew licks his lips and tugs on the tail of the beast inside him, righting it so it can point him in the direction of what he's searching for. Neil looks good on top of him, panting and giddy, and it's rare that Andrew doesn't want to flip them over and make Neil fall apart.

But...every once in a while...

Well, he's relaxed today. He wants to listen, he wants orders, he wants to be controlled so long as the control comes from Neil.

do you like scary movies? [Rated T, 22.5k]

To say Andrew has never seen the benefit in the make-believe would be a lie. However, he finds less and less use for it as he grows older. He especially fails to see the benefits of anything from the horror genre; he’s made plenty of his own mistakes, has seen more than enough to terrify him in his life. He doesn’t need to rely on jump scares and idiotic protagonists.

But when he meets Neil, self-proclaimed horror archivist, he finds that maybe he never gave the genre the credit it was due, and he ends up thanking the dull movies eventually…

They lead him to Neil, the realest thing he’s ever known.

[be11atrixthestrange]

Step 9: Making Plans

From 12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Hermione Granger

Making Plans

A successful relationship means aligning your future. It's important to include one another in decisions, communicate your goals clearly, and remember your choices will affect your partner. Moving the relationship forward is a joint effort, and clear communication will make clear plans, and help manage the unexpected.

*****

If Ron could pinpoint one major difference between himself and Hermione, it would be this: Hermione was a planner, and Ron was not. During their school years, Ron frequently relied on Hermione's revising schedules before exams, or at least he tried to before inevitably entering examination rooms at least somewhat unprepared. During the horcrux hunt, he figured the best way to do something was just to do it, and he felt that Hermione's strategizing slowed them down quite a bit. They ended up going into the battle of Hogwarts without a plan, and everything (for the most part) worked out just fine— nothing that planning more would have fixed.

More recently, Hermione made an itinerary for a vacation to Italy. They managed to sync time off from their busy schedules, and Ron was ecstatic about some free time in a new country that he'd never been to before. Then he saw Hermione's hour by hour schedule for the week, and suddenly, their holiday felt like another busy week at work. She had spreadsheets— some barmy muggle organizing systems— to keep track of their shared finances and bills, and she planned each purchase before she made it. She meal-prepped, and bought groceries accordingly. She even had a system for apartment chores— the kitchen was always cleaned on Sundays and laundry was done on Saturdays, and if Ron shook it up it caused a domino effect that he couldn't even begin to predict.

He loosened her up quite a bit though. After seeing their Italy itinerary, he encouraged her to cross out half of it, and just wing it. She obliged, but not without scowling, and as a result, they discovered new corners of wizarding Italy that they would never have found in guidebooks, because Ron met the right person in a bar. When she got her end of year bonus at work, he encouraged her not to save all of it, just be a little bit irresponsible for once, and he came home to find that floor to ceiling bookshelves now lined the walls of their sunroom, filled to the brim with new, crisp, untapped stories. There were those nights when Ron convinced her to dress up and dine out with him even when she'd already made a plan for dinner. She might act inconvenienced at first, but there was always a gleam in her eye when she donned that fancy dress that never got worn, and they split not one, but two bottles of wine and ordered food they couldn't even pronounce. And of course, their home was usually spotless thanks to the chore schedule she'd made for them, but Ron liked it best when the laundry piled up a little, and dishes were left in the sink, and they distracted each other enough not to care.

Hermione begrudgingly agreed that she could let go and life happen every now and then, and Ron was quite good at adding a little bit of the unexpected into their relationship. And ultimately, Ron respected her commitment to planning, and admitted more of it would serve him well. That's why the next day would test both of them.

On their date tomorrow, Ron was going to ask her to marry him. He had it all planned out, down to every detail. The entire day was scheduled for them, just how she liked it. But the best part of the plan was that she was not expecting it at all.

They'd discussed it of course— he was quite confident she'd say yes. He wouldn't dare ask her otherwise.

Their discussions of marriage had evolved over the last few years. The first time he brought it up was after one year of living together. Ron figured that was enough time together, and engagement seemed like a logical next step for them.

He didn't propose to her, he simply asked her what she'd say if he did. It took him quite a bit of courage to ask her that, and unfortunately, her answer was not one Ron wanted, nor expected. Between "it's too soon" and "not enough time together" and "way too young" he regretted asking.

Granted, he didn't bring it up in an ideal manner. It was after a Friday night at the bar with Harry, Dean, Neville, and Seamus, and Ron hadn't exactly demonstrated the most mature version of himself. They were both drunk upon their return home, so his slurred inquiry fell upon the most stubborn, uninhibited, and emotional side of Hermione. Ron, who was slightly hurt by her response, reluctantly put the subject to rest.

He brought it up two years later at her cousin's wedding. Holly— Ellie's younger sister, who bore a striking resemblance to Hermione— wore a beautiful white dress that Ron couldn't help but picture on Hermione. He danced with her all evening, similar to the way they danced at his own brother's wedding years prior.

"Holly's dress is beautiful, isn't it?" she asked him.

Ron nodded against her head as they swayed on the dance floor. "It would look better on you." He braced himself for an unfavorable response. He was afraid she'd react the way she did that first time, but she needed to know it was on his mind. "I'd love to see you in a wedding dress someday, Hermione."

His heart was pounding, and his ears grew warmer, but he relaxed a little when she settled more heavily against him. "Someday, you will."

Not even a flock of canaries could have wiped the goofy grin from his face.

A year after that, Harry proposed to Ginny. Hermione was her maid of honor, and as expected, she jumped whole-heartedly into planning. The combination of Hermione's immaculate organization skills, Ginny's creativity, and Harry's money made their wedding one of the most fun and extravagant events Ron had ever been to.

Ron remembered waking up next to her the morning after. The periwinkle bridesmaid dress Ginny had chosen for her looked even better crumpled up on the floor beside their bed, and she'd never been more gorgeous with her matted hair and smeared makeup. They felt like hell— both had taken advantage of the open bar after fulfilling their wedding party duties, and neither could remember apparating back to their bedroom, but no one was splinched, and that's what mattered.

"Well, that was something," said Ron, recalling the blurry details of the night before. The live band, the five-course meal, the chocolate fountain, and Harry and Ginny's mystery cocktails made for the most memorable night that they couldn't recall.

"Is it bad that I'm glad it's over?" Hermione asked groggily.

Ron laughed. "No. It was a lot of work."

"Tell me about it," she said turning toward him. "When we get married, let's do something simple."

Ron was quite taken aback by how casually she mentioned this future wedding he'd heard nothing about. "When, or if?"

She smiled, as if clarifying was part of her plan. "When."

Ron beamed, and pulled her closer. "In that case, I'm going to propose to you, Hermione."

She beamed back. "Are you doing that now?"

"No," he said. "It's going to be a surprise."

"I hate surprises," she said cautiously. "So just so you're prepared, I'm going to say yes."

*****

The rest of the winter holiday break passed without many hiccups. Sure, there was a bicker every now and then, but it was nothing compared to their Hogsmeade fight, and always maintained a rather playful tone. They spent the majority of their daytime with Harry and Ginny, occasionally popping by the burrow for a meal. Molly mentioned they seemed just as comfortable with each other now than they did that summer, "as if no time had passed." Harry and Ginny's eye rolls and sarcastic comments just reassured Ron that no one had noticed the rift they had recently repaired.

Hermione seemed to be making a visible effort to show affection, and Ron appreciated her for it. Upon learning that he needed just a little more reassurance, she had buried any qualms she once had about holding his hand under the table at the burrow, or chastely kissing him in the garden when they weren't alone, or even leaning up against him on the living room sofa, and gently stroking his hair while his brothers smiled knowingly. She was even less inhibited in the bedroom. They spent their evenings thoroughly exploring each other's bodies, now that a new door had been opened. Sex quickly became Ron's new favorite activity, although he felt like a walking teenage stereotype admitting it. It wasn't just the physical pleasure— something about the new level of knowledge he now possessed about Hermione solidified his status as her partner. As if a new book in a series had just been released, he suddenly felt like his favorite fantasy world had expanded. He made it a goal to absorb this new knowledge as respectfully and with as much admiration as he possibly could, taking immense pleasure in the fact that he was even allowed to be there.

Ron had dreaded the second half of the holiday, because he had to go back to training, and she was leaving for Australia to visit her parents. Knowing Pigwidgeon would never be able to make that flight— not once, not twice, not nearly as many times as Ron would actually consider enough— he mentally prepared himself to go an entire week without hearing from Hermione. He also decided to call that progress— since two weeks ago, that would have felt like nothing.

They woke up together on the morning she had to leave. When she attempted to slide out of bed, he slipped his arm around her to prevent her.

"Don't leave," he mumbled into her hair.

"I have to," she said sadly. "I wish you could come with me."

"I can't." He tightened his arm around her and pressed his lips to her neck. "I wish I could write to you."

"Oh that reminds me," she said, wrestling out of Ron's grip. "I have another present for you." She leaned over the bed and pulled something shiny out of her bag.

"What's that?"

"Here," she said, placing one small gold coin in Ron's hand, and keeping another for herself.

"A galleon?"

"A fake one."

"Hold on, is this one of our DA galleons?"

"Yes! But I enchanted it further. Watch." She pulled out her wand and tapped the tip to the center of the coin, concentrating hard. The words "Hi Ron!" appeared. She showed him her coin, and the words had appeared on both.

Ron was dumbstruck. "We can communicate without owls?"

"Yes!" said Hermione.

"How did you think of this?"

"It's based on muggle technology, actually," she said. "My parents use pagers to communicate."

"I love muggles," said Ron, pulling her in for another hug. "And you."

"Love you too," she said, before pressing her lips to his. Her hands started to wander, and Ron forgot about the DA coins for the next few moments.

The new DA coins got quite a bit of use over the next week while Hermione was in Australia, and to Ron's excitement, when she went back to Hogwarts. It suddenly Ron felt like a wall had crumbled, and he had access to her daily life and thoughts. There was nothing better than feeling the gold coin in his pocket warm up, and seeing a short but telling message scrawled across the front. The short snippets of conversation helped him stay caught up on her thoughts.

...

Hermione: I just took a shot with my dad, what is happening?

Ron: Been there! Did he at least give you his expensive gin?

...

Ron: I'm pretty sure Harry is singing to himself in the shower. He's not bad, actually.

Hermione: You should join him!

Ron: …

...

Hermione: What are you up to?

Ron: Eating.

Hermione: Go figure

...

Ron lived for these kinds of conversations. "Don't accidentally spend it!" was what she had told him, as if anything would be remotely worth it.

Although the coins were great for constant access to communication, they were not ideal for detail. When Hermione went back to school, he continued his weekly letters, and was pleasantly surprised that she did too.

The letters picked up where the coins left off, and rather than catching each other up on their daily lives, they used them to make plans. With the letters, they could fully detail their Hogsmeade plans, provide more context for their texts, and even begin discussing their ideas for term-end. Ron used a letter to suggest that Hermione move into Grimmauld Place with him and Harry after graduation, and he was thrilled that he didn't have to wait anxiously for pig to bring back her response, which was a resounding yes.

They didn't include all plans in their letters, because Hermione still managed to surprise him for his birthday. He came home from work on March 1st to find her sitting at their kitchen table with a big smile on her face.

"How did you get here?"

"Floo!" she said as she launched into his arms. "I told McGonagall it was an emergency."

"And what was the emergency," Ron said, hugging her so tightly that he lifted her off his feet.

"Your birthday!"

"And she let you leave?" he asked incredulously. She nodded. "I thought you hated surprises," he continued.

"I do, but I know you like them."

"I love them," he told her. "But I have to work this weekend —"

"No, you don't!" she said. "Harry's covering for you."

Ron beamed. "Really? He's in on this?"

She nodded. "Least he can do, for all the years he spent, you know, getting in our way."

Harry was not there to interfere that night, and thankfully, she had even more surprises planned for him. Ron didn't wake up predicting sex that day, and he definitely hadn't expected her to be wearing lacy lingerie under her school robes. One of the best surprises was how confidently she led him to his room, and pushed him onto the bed, expertly undoing the buttons of his jeans while her mouth never left his. His attraction to her was only multiplied by how unafraid she was to tell him what she wanted, and less surprising, but still unexpected, was his discovery of how much he liked being told what to do. Auror training had given him plenty of practice in taking orders, but until that night, he'd never enjoyed being so obedient.

It was the best birthday that Ron could remember. They spent the entire weekend in bed, either making love, or not making love, and he was grateful for all of it. Only three more months until they could do this every night, which reminded Ron to continue the disjointed conversation they'd been having over enchanted galleons.

"So I know you were planning on moving in here," he started. "What if we got our own place?"

"What about Harry?"

"What about him?" asked Ron.

"Won't he be lonely without you?"

Ron snorted. "He'll have Ginny."

Hermione looked at him through narrowed eyes. "So he told you she's moving in?"

"I knew you knew!" he said playfully.

"You're ok with it?"

"No, but I don't want to live with it, I would feel better if we got our own place."

They agreed to wait until term ended to officially start apartment hunting, so that Hermione could fully focus on completing her NEWTS and job applications. When she went back to school, their communication faltered a little bit, but it didn't bother Ron as much as it did their first term, because he knew exactly why her letters were shorter, and he was thrilled she was making the effort.

Her letters were still detailed enough that he knew of each job application she submitted, and he could feel her excitement about one particular one— an entry-level position in the office of magical law. The open position specifically dealt with updating and passing laws regarding the rights of magical creatures and Ron felt that Hermione was completely mental to think she was anything but a shoe-in.

They planned to meet at the ministry for lunch before her interview, and Ron showed up expecting nothing short of panic from Hermione. He sat through lunch acting as an interviewer, and let her rehearse her answers and talking points for her entire meal. He probably asked her more questions about S.P.E.W that day than he ever did during their school years, and he was quite impressed to learn how much she knew about magical law, even though it was never a subject at Hogwarts. He might be biased, but if he were really interviewing her, he'd hire her on the spot.

"You're going to be amazing, you know that?"

"I'm going to fail."

"They'd be lucky to have you," he told her, leaning in for a kiss across the table. He truly felt that way, they'd have to be idiots not to hire her, but again, he might be biased.

She trembled the whole way into her interview. Before she entered the interview room, he stopped her, and pulled her into his arms. "Just take five deep breaths, Hermione." He held her there, syncing his breathing up with hers, just like he did when she had a nightmare. Eventually, he felt her shoulders relax, and her spine straighten. "You can do this. You're brilliant."

"Thank you." She smiled gratefully and kissed him goodbye, or at least what she thought was goodbye. What she didn't know was that Ron had taken the afternoon off, and would be taking her out for a— likely celebratory— drink when the interview was over.

He sat down on a hallway bench and waited.

Hermione was beaming when she left the room an hour later, followed by two older, official-looking ministry employees. Ron stood as they each shook Hermione's hand. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but they appeared to be making plans.

She bid them goodbye and turned to see Ron standing there. Ron smiled nervously— he knew she hated surprises. "You're still here?"

Ron nodded. "I figured you'd need a drink—"

He was interrupted by her flinging herself into his arms. "They hired me!"

Ron lifted her off her feet and kissed her, and in a way, it felt like their first kiss in the Room of Requirement. He didn't care that people he knew were passing them in the hallways, and some of them might be Hermione's future coworkers. He didn't care that snogging his girlfriend in a crowded ministry hallway contradicted the excuse he used to get out of work early— he wasn't coming down with anything contagious other than genuine elation.

They apparated back to Hogsmeade, and he took her out for a celebratory butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. It wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend, so the bar was relatively empty, save for a few professors, but Ron and Hermione didn't care. They made their way to their favorite booth in the back of the bar, and toasted to Hermione's new job, because their plans were falling into place beautifully, like dominoes that had been so precariously set over the past eight years they'd known each other.

They spent that evening making plans, and all of their plans came true. Hermione aced her N.E.W.T.S. She graduated with top marks, and celebrated at the burrow with his family. She moved into Grimmauld Place temporarily, and after just two short weeks of researching and touring apartments, they moved into their very own flat. It was in a muggle neighborhood, but had a second guest room and was right on a train line so her parents could visit, but the thing that made it perfect was that she lived there. In a way, that evening at the Three Broomsticks felt like the first day of the rest of their lives— their future finally felt clear, and they could plan for it. But when she unexpectedly ordered another round, not of butterbeer— of firewhiskey, and suggested they rent a room at the Hog's head to keep celebrating, he realized some of the best parts of his future with her would be entirely unplanned.

[cosmic-has-moved]

The Vamp & Wolf - Chapter 2

Early the next morning Alcina walked Hayden to a small library and sat him at the table, next to him was a maid who had several books and a single pen in front of her. He looked at the maid for a few seconds, before looking up at the Mistress in confusion.

Turning away Alcina began walking away, “I’ve gotten this maid to help you learn, it’s quite obvious that you lack common and important information.” She glanced back at him. “You better behave and treat the maid with respect, or else.” Those last words almost had a bit of a hiss at the end. She walked out after that.

Hours have gone passed since Alcina left him with one of the maids, she was surprised that there were no screaming from the library yet. Standing up off her bed she made her way downstairs, while making her way to the library she noticed the door was closed. She grabbed the handle and opened it, ready to see the damage.

In the room was just Hayden who was calmly waiting at the table, the maid wasn’t anywhere in sight. Alcina frowned and walked over to him arms crossed, “Where is the maid I assigned you?”

“Getting some fucking tea.”

There was a short awkward silence between the two, the Mistress blinked a few times. This was the first time he spoke and it was quite vulgar, so she shot back.

“Watch your fucking language.”

There was another short awkward silence before the maid walked in with a tray of tea and biscuits. She bowed to the Mistress before placing the tray on the table and pouring Hayden a cup of tea, Alcina waited until she was done before pulling her aside to question her.

“How has he been behaving so far?” She asked the maid in curiosity.

She was informed that it took him sometime but he managed to speak, it was hoarse at first but became more clear the more they spoke to each other. The maid did push as to why he uses such language but even he was confused and even looked conflicted to answer, but Alcina had an idea on why and waved her back to Hayden before informing her to help him use more formal words.

Lady Dimitrescu rubbed her temple and walked off, a nice glass of wine sounded nice.

________________________________________________________________

A few months have gone by since Alcina gave Hayden to the care of the maid, she’s been doing a wonderful job so far. He’s been dressing nicely and eats normally, he can speak properly now with no vulgar language but chose to keep quiet most of the time. He’s even become slightly polite to her daughters. Daniella still disliked him, but Anna and Novella slowly grew comfortable around him.

The maid is definitely getting a day off.

The Mistress strolled around the castle looking for the young man, she knew she shouldn’t have left him alone with no supervision.

Whilst walking around her ears caught the sound of piano keys in the distance, that’s when she immediately knew where he would be. Making her way to the source of the sound she walked into the private music room, where Hayden stood examining the piano.

“There you are!” Alcina exclaimed before walking over to him, “I thought you went and escaped again.”

Hayden blinked at her blankly before looking back at the piano and pressing another key and another, each sound emanating from it causing him to flinch slightly. The sounds seem to startle him but quickly fascinate him right after.

A frown grew on the tall woman’s face, he was like a child discovering for the first time. A person his age shouldn’t be acting like this at all.

Pulling the wide chair back and sitting on it, Alcina patted the extra seating next to her gesturing for him to sit next to her. Upon him sitting next to her with a puzzle expression, she placed her hands on the keys and proceeded to play a tune. Hayden watched in amazement as she played, the reaction made her smile warmly.

The music went on for a while before she ended it and grabbed his wrist. “Why not play with me, Hayden.” Placing his hands on the keys she went on to play another tune, but slowly. “Just watch my fingers and mirror its movement.”

Playing the piano at a steady pace, she glanced over to see Hayden watching her hands before proceeding to play along. It was slow at first and weren’t good sounds, but after many attempts he got the hang of it.

The smile on his face became wide as they both played at a comfortable pace, this continued on until his fingers ached. Satisfied with their little play time, Alcina got up off the chair and turned around.

“Play around with it more if you want, just don’t break it.” She went to walk away but was stopped by a tug on her dress, looking back she furrowed her brows at him.

Hayden looked up at her with sheepish expression, he didn’t say a word but she knew that he wanted her to stay. Letting out a slightly annoyed sigh, the Mistress sat back down to his enjoyment and continued playing the piano with him.

________________________________________________________________

Mistress stood over Hayden with a deadly serious expression on her face and a pair of scissors, it would’ve been clear that he was glaring but his long hair was covering his face. He also would’ve escaped if it weren’t for the daughters holding him still.

The snips of his hair getting cut were loud, but the nonexistent sound of discontent coming from Hayden was louder. It took some time but his hair was cut to a reasonable style, it was good to see his face again though.

Alcina huffed proudly at her work while the girls played with his freshly cut hair, she told them to leave him alone so he could wash and watched them leave the bathroom. She stayed behind and crossed her arms.

“The full moon is going to be tomorrow night and it’ll be your first full transformation, so I will have to keep an extra close watch on you and lock you up.” The sentence caused Hayden to look a bit disheartened but he nodded in response, and with that she left him alone.

Walking down the hallway she looked out the window and stared at the almost full moon, it’s been decades since she’s seen a full werewolf transformation and she wasn’t excited. The first time ones always lose control of their body and go rouge on everything, it’s bothersome having to deal with the aftermath.

She looked away and went towards her room, she had some preparing to do. As she made her way inside her room the phone started to ring, talk about time. Going over to it and picking it up, she greeted the person over the phone. It was one of the higher power people.

They wanted to know Hayden’s progress and she told them what, making sure to leave out the part about her going through his car. They seemed happy with this and told her something that made her stop in thought.

“The group have put their word in and I have decided it was best that you keep him, think of him as a guard dog.”

And before Alcina could say something, they hung up. Putting the receiver down and cupped her mouth to think about what they said, it’s almost as if they planned to give him to her since they never even asked for her opinion. Letting out a sigh she rested her arms on her desk, “Well never mind them, he practically belongs here.” A smiled grew on her face before she got ready to rest for the night.

Later that day the Mistress got a few servants to ready a room for Hayden, she also made sure he had plenty to eat. After all was set he was put into the metal surrounding room, chains around his neck and arms. Alcina stood at the doorway staring at him, watching his body shake and drool. He had early signs of transformation earlier, his eyes reflecting from the light seeping from outside the room.

“Want to know some facts about werewolves?” Without getting an answer from him, she continued. “Despite their turning being painful, transformation afterwards isn’t, just a slight pressure against their body.”

She leaned against the doorway. “The books say that wolves turn every full moon, that isn’t true. Their first full transformation is on a full moon, but they can turn all they want afterwards, it’s funny how little people know.” She smirked. “Don’t even get me started on vampires, that’s a whole other story to ramble on about.”

“Here’s one last one before I go. Full transformation afterwards is like going through second puberty.” She stood straight. “Which means you’re going to be a huge pain in my ass after this.”

Hayden went to attack her but the chains stopped him. She sighed and smiled at him. “I’ll be back, the girls and I are going hunting.” Stepping back and locking the door, she walked away.

________________________________________________________________

Prepping themselves with the needed clothes, the women left to collect more food.

Daniella being the stubborn oldest one had decided to go hunting with Novella the second oldest following along her, Alcina was frustrated at first but knew her daughters could handle themselves now. But Anna being the youngest and less experienced, she decided to stay with her mother.

After looking around for victims and collecting what they could, Alcina noticed a familiarly unwanted presence near them. The growling and many glowing eyes from behind the trees had confirmed her suspicions, readying her claws and moving Allah back, she glared back at the eyes.

“Make a sudden move and you’ll be dead in a second.” She threatened with a hiss, to which was responded with more emerging from the trees and bushes. She could tell by the sizes of a few of them that they were young werewolves, cursing herself since she wasn’t allowed to kill the young ones.

Sighing and allowing her claws to deduce in size, she crossed her arms. “If you’re here for a fight, I’m afraid that can’t happen, there are rules here and we must follow them”

Before she could say anymore three of them ran towards her. With visible annoyance, the Mistress got her claws out and stabbed them in the legs. She couldn’t kill them, but she could stun them.

As more came to attack them the more difficult it became to defend, the young ones were always annoying.

While having her back turned to check up on Anna, a wolf jumped up to pounce her. She didn’t have time to attack it and went to shield her child.

But the wolf was tackle by another yet bigger wolf, she watched in quiet shock as the bigger wolf roared and tore into the young wolf before attacking the other wolves. It only took her a few seconds after getting a good look at their fur to realise who it was.

“Hayden?” The name slipped out Dimitrescu’s mouth in a questioning manner.

The wolf stopped and slowly stood up, the moonlight showing his ashy blonde fur and his green eyes slightly glowing in the dark.

Letting go of the heavily injured werewolf in his maw, the tall furry creature slowly made his way to the two women. Anna stayed behind Alcina who reassuringly held her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, she should ready herself from an attack from him, but his presence towards her had no signs of dangers.

With an annoyed sigh after wiping her face, Anna put her weapon away and gave Hayden a pat.

Getting on all fours, Hayden sniffed Alcina before moving his muzzle over to Anna who held her weapon close to his face. With a sly smirk forming on his fuzzy muzzle, Hayden slapped his tongue on her face and dragged it up before sitting down. The motion was met with the poor girl yelling out in disgust over having dog spit on her face, Alcina couldn’t help but giggle.

With a satisfied smile on her face, Alcina patted Hayden’s head. “Good to see you didn’t try to kill us.” She looked over at Anna and waved her forward. “Go on, thank him.”

Soon enough Daniella and Novella found their way back to them, Alcina did have to stop Daniella from attacking Hayden but overall the hunting was a success.

While on their way back with Hayden being the one to carry the supplies, the Mistress wondered on how he managed to escape his restraints. Hopefully the servants were alive to tell her.

Upon reaching the room he was held in and opening the door, she saw that the barred window along with a good portion of the stone wall was gone. Getting a closer look to see more of the damage, the chains appeared to be chewed off judging by the bite marks and a few of his teeth on the ground. The servants weren’t even aware of his escape.

Alcina was quite impressed by this and crossed her arms, she would’ve been angry with him for disobeying her, but since he saved Anna’s life, she could let him off the hook.

She left the room and towards the main living room, seeing Hayden sitting in front of the lit fireplace still in his form. Her daughters have gone to their rooms to do their own thing, so she decided to take a chair and sat near him.

There was now nothing but silenced mixed with the crackling of the fire, it was quite relaxing to Alcina. She looked over at Hayden who just sat there, he could’ve been asleep but it was hard to tell with his furry back face her.

“Hayden” After seeing his ears perk up and his curiously look at her, she continued. “Come here.” She ordered in a calm voice.

Crawling over to her Hayden sat in front of her and rested his head on her lap, for his scary size, he was quite adorable.

Gently stroking his head and watching him rest his eyes, Alcina almost felt a different yet familiar warmth towards him. A warmth similar the one she feels towards her daughters.

Hayden lifted his arms up on her lap resting under his face. A short flashback appeared in Alcina’s mind, is was quick but she knew what it was. A memory of Daniella when she was a child in the same position, it was so long ago that she had nearly completely forgotten.

Without a second thought she got up, causing him to wake and sit back in a startled manner.

“Good night.” Was the last thing she said to him that night before walking off.

________________________________________________________________

The next morning felt less colder than usual, but it was nice.

Alcina talked to the maids about cleaning up the mess from last night, Hayden was still in bed recovering from his first transformation. The hole was an easy fix along with the bars and shackles, it was the injured pups from last night that was worrying the Mistress,

Mother Miranda gave simple orders, no harm comes to the wolves and your family, especially the young ones. The rule was made after an incident where nearly half the werewolf population were killed by an unwanted guest from outside.

They weren’t killed but the adults would clearly still not be happy about it. Hayden would most likely be punished by Miranda. The thought of what she’ll do to him worried Alcina, Miranda when angered was a terrifying being not worth trying to fight against.

A knock at her door snapped her out of her thought process, she leaned back on her chair and turned to her door, seeing Novella holding an empty wooden box.

“We’re out of the Kava kava and maca roots, I have asked Daniella to come with me to get more.” Novella closed the box and sighed, “But she’s busy with a maid”

Getting up off her chair and going to her closet, Alcina grabbed her thick winter cloak. “Say no more, I’ve been needing to go out anyway.” Giving a slight nod, Novella left to go get ready.

________________________________________________________________

Whilst walking out towards the small village, Alcina glanced down at Novella who was just staring blankly in the distance. She was always like that, didn’t really care for anything big or small, she only cared about getting the job done when needed. But she would show more than one emotion when she got a rush, it was rare though.

“What do you think of Hayden?”

The question caused Novella to blink her eyes back into focus, “He’s alright, he’s useful and knows how to piss Daniella off.” They walked into the village. “He may be a stubborn moron but he has his quirks, plus kept Anna safe last night so I guess he gets a few good boy points from me.”

Letting out a chuckle, Alcina stopped in front of the shop. “Well that’s good to hear.”

________________________________________________________________

Walking up the snowy hill towards their castle, Novella turned Alcina’s attention to a Carriage near the gate. It was quickly clear to her that Mother Miranda was here and most likely for her or Hayden.

They watched a familiar hooded figure walk out of the castle, it was her. She entered her carriage and without even acknowledging the two, the carriage went passed them back to where they came. After they were out of her vision, Alcina swiftly made her way back inside.

She marched upstairs and towards Hayden’s room, many thoughts ran through her head as she walked and opened the door.

Hayden laid there in his bed eating a bowl of what looked to be high quality beef soup, he looked up at her startled by her sudden entrance. He didn’t appear to be harmed visibly, but she knew something was up.

“Did a woman besides the maids and my girls visit you?” Alcina asked calmly as she closed the door behind her, grabbing a chair and sitting next to him.

After Hayden finished swallowing his food, he answered. “Yeah, never got her name other than that she was a family friend. She did ask about last night and I was honest, I didn’t remember anything other than feeling that someone was in great danger.” He used the spoon to stir his soup. “She mentioned something about you and needing a mixed species, but I couldn’t hear it fully.” He lifted the bowl up to his mouth and drank the broth.

“Mixed species?” She thought to herself, the sentence confused her but she continued listening.

Putting the bowl down and licking his lips, he continued. “’She also gave me this delicious soup, wish she brought some for you and the rest though.” He said with a bit of sadness in his voice.

Alcina looked at him slightly wide eyed, “That’s not something she would do out of pure kindness, there was definitely something in that meat.” She internally said to herself before glancing at the now empty bowl.

Grabbing the bowl and standing up, she excused herself. “Well other than that, it’s good to see you awake and well.” Walking towards the door and grabbing the doorknob, she looked back. “I’ll speak to you soon.” Hayden watched her leave and close the door.

Collecting herself with the information she got from him, she made her way down the hallway to hopefully get some sort of clue as to what was in the food. But she was stopped by Daniella who looked slightly concerned, somewhat out of character for her but it was clear she might’ve met Mother Miranda.

“Anna and I told her what happened last night.” She spoke up, this quickly interest the Mistress. “After we told her, she just smiled and said that it was already dealt with, also mentioning that we shouldn’t have to worry since they attacked first and weren’t killed.”

This relived Alcina a bit but was still worried, “That’s good to hear, you two shouldn't worry now since she left.” She placed a hand on her child’s shoulder. “But make sure to get me next time she visits while I’m gone.”

Daniella nodded making her way to her bedroom. After watching her enter her room, she rubbed her temple and sighed. “At least there wasn’t much trouble caused today.” She said to herself.

That’s when she could hear her phone ring, it must be Mother Miranda. The Mistress swiftly made her way to her room and placed the bowl down on the table before answering, “Hello?”

“Good Evening, Miss Dimitrescu.” The voice on the other end was definitely her. “Terribly sorry for leaving without speaking to you, I was in quite the rush.”

Holding back a sigh, Alcina knew what kind of person Miranda was but she still can be unpredictable. “I understand, but I do have a few questions and I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

“Ah yes, you already know that the cub situation is handled with, so I suspect you’re wanting to know about the little chat Hayden and I had.”

“Yes, I’ve known you for a long time. You don’t give other’s high quality goods with expecting something in return, not to mention you saying something about mixed species.” Letting out a sigh, Alcina continued. “Mother Miranda, what are you planning?”

There was a short pause before a slight laugh came out of Miranda. “I was going to tell you at some point, remember years ago when we were working on a wolf and vampire mix?”

She did, it ended horribly. First experiment was getting a werewolf to digest vampire blood, the wolf died days later from their skin burning to ash. The second was getting a vampire to be turned by a wolf, that person died from their body uncontrollably snapping in all sorts of places.

The third was breeding, getting a werewolf and vampire to mate. Tried two times, the female did get pregnant, but the baby never made it.

“Yes.” The Mistress responded. “I remember. I also remember that every attempt failed.”

“That was decades ago, Alcina. You may have stopped researching, but I haven’t.” Alcina could almost hear her smile at the other end. “I wish no harm upon you’re little pet, I can tell you’re fond of him. So I’ve given him a little something special.”

The tall Mistress’s teeth gritted a bit. “What did you give him?”

“You’re blood, I let it dry and turned it into a powder before mixing it up with some other herbs I have.”

Alcina snapped “YOU WHAT?!” She stood up off her chair, phone still pressed against her ear. “Giving him my blood will kill him!”

“Worry not, I have high hopes that no harm will come to him. Yes he might feel sick but that’ll be it.”

Before Alcina could speak, Mother Miranda hung up.

She stood there gripping the receiver for a while before slamming it down on the table, breaking it and the table. She panting heavily from anger before taking a deep breath and calming herself, she knew there was no time nor room to lose herself.

Taking her time to calm down and relax, she decided that a glass of red wine sounded nice.

She went to her bedroom door and opened the door, looking down at her daughters who were obviously eavesdropping. “While I appreciate company, Mommy needs a drink and alone time.” She walked passed them as they swiftly moved out of the way. Hearing them whisper to each other in worry.

________________________________________________________________

The tall Mistress stood out of the castle balcony, sipping her glass of wine and looking out at the cloudy sky. The small flame of rage still trickling inside her over Mother Miranda’s actions, but there was also that inner question she’s been ignoring. Why did she care so much over Hayden?

Sure he’s now considered a resident of her castle and is treated as more than a servant, the girls practically treat him like a little brother the more she thought about it, but he wasn’t part of the family… Right?

Alcina rested her head in her palm in thoughts of contemplation. He’s only ever addressed her by Mistress as far as she’s heard him, and she’s only ever addressed him by his name. Does he consider her as something other than a friend? She’s never really thought about it until now.

She groaned loudly in annoyance, “Why do I care so much about this?!” She shouted angrily. “He’s just a wolf that was forced into my care for his damn stubbornness!” Her grip on the wine glass got tight enough that it shattered, wine dripping down her hand, but it caused her to snap out of her rage and calm down.

“I need to sleep.” Was all she said before she walked back into the castle and rest.

[inklingowl]

O.o elaborate on the alpaca tags

So fair warning, the depressed alpaca story is not a happy one. TW animal illness and death.

Back when I was in college, my friend and I got summer jobs at a horse farm in the Catskill mountains. It was a small but lovely little farm expertly tended by the owner. In addition to the 20 or so horses there were two alpacas on the farm co-owned between the barn owner and her sister in law. The sister in law initially wanted them for their fiber, both selling it and using it herself. Since there was already a farm in the family, it was easy enough to obtain a stall and pasture space. Alpacas couldn’t be that much different then horses anyway, right? They’re both herd animals, they each have four legs, they eat hay, just treat them basically the same, easy peasy. Unfortunately, over the course of that summer everyone on the farm got a crash course in just how not true that assumption was.

As the days passed my friend and I started to be concerned that the local sheep/alpaca shearing guy still hadn’t made it out to free our fuzzy friends from their wool coats. Daytime temps weren’t too terrible yet but we were well into June at this point and it was only going to get hotter. Not wanting the poor things to get heat stroke we offered to shear them ourselves. After all, we’d body clipped horses before and already owned large animal grade electric clippers. It’s the same basic concept, what could go wrong? The alpacas were clearly unhappy about us invading their personal bubbles with noisy clippers but other than some concerned humming they just laid down and let us do whatever we wanted to them. We went slow and gave them frequent breaks- which is what you do with horses to minimize their stress. I now know that this is NOT what you’re supposed to do with alpacas. It’s more beneficial for them to make the process as quick as possible in order to limit the total amount of time they are stressed. After a few hours the job was done and we went to bed satisfied that we had helped make them more comfortable.

The next morning it was apparent that something was very wrong. The alpacas couldn’t stand, kept falling over out of their kush position, and kept bending their heads backwards to stare up at the ceiling. The large animal vet was immediately called out. After examining them, he explained that their symptoms matched a meningeal worm infestation. White tailed deer are the intended host for meningeal worms but they can also infect other ruminants such as alpacas. These worms can cause spinal and brain lesions that cause neurological affects similar to human polio. The vet believed that the stress of shearing the day before may have also stressed the parasites and sped up the neurological damage which is why it appeared seemingly overnight. One of the alpacas ended up being euthanized a few days later, as his neurologic issues were severe enough that he did not respond to treatment. The second alpaca responded better and was up and walking, rather wobbily but walking, after a day or two of medication.

My friend and I felt horrible and responsible for what happened so we became determined to nurse the remaining alpaca, Remy, back to health. We took him for walks around the farm multiple times a day to try to build back up his muscle strength and coordination. Shearing him had also reviled a rash on his belly, similar to a diaper rash, from the excess fleece holding urine too close to his skin. To treat this we had to wash the affected area and apply ointment daily. He hated this and objected with a combination of glares and deliberately laying down whenever we tried to wash/medicate his belly. We ended up having to devise a sling system of soft ropes under his abdomen which were then tied to the wall to keep him standing during this daily procedure. It was an utterly ridiculous set up but it worked, while simultaneously earning us yet more dirty looks from Remy. 

As much as he frequently got irritated with us he also seemed to get upset whenever we walked past his stall and didn’t take him out. It became increasingly apparent that he did not want to be left alone and would rather tag along with us whenever he could. We started spending a lot of time on alpaca husbandry web sites trying to figure out how to improve the quality of life for our sad little wobbily muppet friend. Turns out, alpacas are so bonded to their herd mates that you should never under any circumstances keep just one. They should always be kept in a group, minimum two, three or more is better. If kept alone they will often get so stressed they will die.

Naturally we took this information to the barn owner and told her it was in Remy’s best interest to either rehome him to a farm with other alpacas or to buy him a friend. At this point the barn owner was feeling pretty out of her depth with caring for this poor little train wreck of a creature and she was willing to find him a new home. Remy’s co-owner however wanted to keep him. They’d already invested a lot of money between the initial purchase price of two animals and all the repeat vet visits. Not to mention they already lost one of them, she didn’t want to go through all that just to lose custody of the second alpaca as well. The one thing they both did agree on was that they couldn’t afford to spend a couple thousand dollars to buy a replacement to be Remy’s companion.

As the summer progressed we started to feel hope, Remy did in fact improve. His rash cleared up, and he got strong enough that he was able to be turned out in a pasture with two of the oldest and most gentle horses on the property- whom he pointedly ignored. He’d come tottering up to the fence whenever we walked by though. We were still his surrogate herd. Unfortunately as we feared, his improved health did not last.

My friend and I went out of town one weekend and when we returned we were told that Remy had bloated when we were gone and the vet had been called out yet again. Bloat is a type of gas colic and it can be fatal. The vet recommended a mixture of dish soap and baking soda be syringe fed into him to help counteract the bloat. I still am unsure exactly what this does digestive chemistry wise, but I’m told it’s an old treatment for gas colic in ruminants. All I know is Remy hated it. It was the only time I ever saw him spit at people. He recovered but bloated yet again just a few weeks later, once again when my friend and I were out of town for the weekend. By this point the barn owner was noticing a pattern. In addition to him bloating whenever his preferred humans missed a day of visiting him, when he was found bloating he was always laying upside down on a slope in the pasture- head pointing downhill and feet pointing uphill. It was unclear if he was laying in that position due to discomfort and pain or if laying in that position is what was triggering his bloat episodes. Either way, he would make no effort to right himself. It was like he would just give up on life and lay down to die.

I know that it seems like I'm just anthropomorphizing by implying that he might have been intentionally trying to end his own life but it really seemed like that's what was happening. Remy was a very sensitive and dramatic individual, which as far as I can tell is a pretty standard personality for alpacas. Combine that with what we read about them frequently dying of stress when kept alone and you can see how we could come to that conclusion.

My friend and I started to get very concerned as the summer came to a close and we packed up to move back to college 3 hours away. We'd gotten very attached to our depressed alpaca charge, and felt responsible for his wellbeing. Unfortunately he wasn't ours and thus we couldn't just take him with us. We once again pleaded the case of either getting him a friend or rehoming him and hoped at the very least he'd bond with another human or horse in our absence. Alas, within a month of us leaving, he bloated yet again and didn't pull through that time.

So yeah, not a happy story. The moral of it is to do lots of research before getting an animal, routinely deworm your livestock, and accept that sometimes it's in the best interest of the animal to find a new home. It doesn't matter if you would lose a financial or emotional investment, part of being a responsible pet owner is acknowledging when you can't give them what they need and finding someone else who can.