#bear with me a while till i can find my feet again

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

you know what's delicious? yn who started wearing flavored lip balm/lip tint because of suguru — so that every time suguru ate a curse, he could just easily pull the man into a kiss to get rid of the disgusting taste suguru hates so much ((bonus points if yn also pops in a candy/sweet/chocolate in his mouth before feeding it to suguru through a kiss — anything to help suguru forget the taste of curses)) yeah... just... suguruyn for the win man 😋🫶

((even more bonus points when satoru finds out later and he gets all jelly because 1. he doesn't know the lip balm/lip tint can come with a flavor so he felt blindsided and of course, he humphs and puffs because of it and 2. he wanted a chocolatey sweetness kissies too!!!! and of course lastly, 3. he felt left out because he never knows that suguruyn always makes out every single time suguru ate a curse so he's all pouty about it — ask him to join in next time!!!))

❝ He's just like candy, he's so sweet ❞

polycule (Satoru x r! x Suguru)) | alternate universes (Suguru is not a cult-reader), fluff, NSFW | vers. bottom. reader (AMAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 3.6k

warnings: foodplay, threesomes, pouty satoru & smug suguru, semi-public sex, d/s dynamics

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

author's note: in this au, they slayed the links that made me lose my mind (thank you @xuxitheii for making me squeal and kick my feet): geto suguru : gojo satoru : gojo satoru being a big baby

Curses. Ugly as sin and tastes just as foul. Suguru remembers the first time he discovered he could devour them; how awful it felt as it went down his throat, bulging out and staying there — blocking his airway as he struggled to find it in himself to swallow.

The way his teeth ached. His throat convulsed and his instincts forced it back up but his fingers blocked it from doing so. It warbled in the back of his mouth, begging to be let out and 7-year-old Suguru just knew he couldn’t bear for it to disturb him again. He couldn’t handle it speaking nonsensically into his ear, slinking under his bed or even staring right at him as it grinned so wide Suguru swore he could see his reflection in its yellow, wicked-sharp, teeth.

The pills his parents (his poor, non-sorcerer, parents) had given him to help with his “hallucinations” made him feel as though a thick fog was obscuring his brain. His thoughts faded and his movement groggy, his emotions caged while his body still felt the anxious tremors that ran through him when he saw them.

The curses made him feel like he was constantly in a deep pit of despair. Everything wrong in the world, the depravity and impulses of humanity that manifested into these grotesque creatures in the palm of his hands made his nose sting, till this day, as an 18-year-old; it made his eyes well with tears.

Suguru can't describe it in a way people could understand. But if asked, he’d used the viscera of a vomit rag being forced down your throat.

But the strong protect the weak. While your lips protect them from his ire. This one goes down with a loud gulp, his fingers blocking his lips as he tosses his head back. The worst is almost over, the aftertaste will linger but not for long. Because then, he feels your weight on his chest and Suguru is pliant as you gently pry his fingers away.

“You did a good job, baby.” Suguru flutters his eyes open and he can’t help the way his lips twitch eagerly. Your lips are glossier than usual, he can smell the cherry flavour on them. His hands wrap themselves around your waist. It’s a firm grip.

Mine, he says without speaking, mine — all mine.

He pulls and a huff of air escapes you in a series of chuckles. “I know we haven’t been out in a while, but did you miss me that much, Su-Su?” Suguru frowns at your jest. It’s rare for him to pout. That role is often delegated to your boyfriend, Satoru. So this must truly upset him.

Because, yes, he did.

You’d been called overseas to complete a mission. It was the norm for sorcerers considering the population of sorcerers in Japan; outsourcing they called it. Your curse technique was needed for this mission and truly, it didn’t take long but Suguru had done solo missions and he missed you.

Three solo missions. Three disgusting, dog-shit, vomit-stained rags, down his throat. Three days without you by his side.

He hated it.

“Don’t ask a silly question like that ever again,” he mumbles. Silly. The way he scolds you always makes you smile. Never crass or rude — his voice reminds you of the symphony of leaves singing with the wind as they danced and speckled light onto the forest floors and cool water bubbling over rocks.

“Why? Why can’t I ask silly questions?” You tease, placing your elbows on his shoulder and hanging your hands behind him. Purposefully lax despite the coquettish smile on your face.

“You already know the answer.” He speaks with such sincerity. Every word is heavy with nothing but candour and adoration. It makes your eyes soften and Suguru squeezes you closer.

“I do?” He nods at your words, the tip of his nose brushing over yours and his tan skin so flushed on the apples of his cheeks.

“Kiss me like you miss me, baby.”

Suguru’s lips land on yours like a feather. Supple as always he begins it with a long-lasting peck. Pouty lip against pouty lip. His hands climb up your back and he presses between your shoulder blades to somehow hold you closer; his jaw opens and yours does the same. There it is — that heaven that’s your mouth. Suguru groans and you feel his tongue sneaking in, devouring you like a starved man.

The cherry flavour on your lips, the sweetness of the candy you let melt on your tongue, the way your fingers grip his hair, the way he can feel your breath on his cheek as you try to breathe. He wishes that the two of you never needed air. Suguru wants nothing more than to kiss you forever and ever and ever —

“Hey!”

You part with a gasp, cheeks warm and lips almost bruised as the line of spit between the two of you breaks. At the mouth of the alleyway was your boyfriend; Gojo Satoru.

His arms are crossed and he taps his foot in a cartoonish fashion. Despite that, both of you know that the frown on his face is very much real. “What gives? I exorcised the other curses and I came back to the two of you making out. So unfair!”

Suguru parts with a sigh, rolling his eyes to the side and pouting his lips to the side as he muttered about Satoru having FOMO. It makes you giggle and he smiles when you lean forward to place your face right under his jaw.

“S’toru, you’re being a baby. Suguru did a lot of work and I was just thanking him.” Satoru unfolds his arms and flaps them around in protest.

“I did work too!”

And it has begun — Satoru’s famous little tantrums. Oh, he could go for a full hour if he was really worked up but there is a saving grace in him having them. He closes his eyes when he’s yappering. Suguru is listening to his huffy boyfriend but then you kiss his chin and he tilts his face down to look at you.

“Hm?” your teeth brush over his lower lips, then plant firmly on his. “Baby?” he smiles in the lip-locking and you whine about it because his lips should not stretch into that handsome smile, they should be pursed outward and part to let you in.

He tastes chocolate on your tongue. The creaminess of the chocolate makes him groan along with the citrusy notes. That combined with the fruitiness of the cherry tint on your lips makes the taste of the curses he’d ingested (exorcised) all but disappear. Your hands climb to the lobe of his ears and his breath hitches when your fingers trail the curve of it, he protests a bit as you undo his bun; then you whisper his name and Suguru tightens his grip on your waist.

“Hey!”

Satoru is whining again but this time he’s closer. Close enough for Suguru to grab a fistful of Satoru’s white button-up and pull him in. As his face turns you giggle, wiping away some smeared gloss as you watch Satoru turn red from Suguru’s heated kiss.

Satoru groans with his eyebrows twitching. Listless in his attempt to remain angry at Suguru. He pounds his fist against Suguru’s shoulder and attempts to crane his neck away. When he turns, he gasps as you steal his breath.

Satoru’s graceful legs tumble over themselves as his boyfriends press him to the rough wall of the alleyway. There’s a constant hum of an A/C machine and the noises from the pipes keep the intimate noises between the three of you contained. Suguru’s blunt nails drag onto the faded plastered-on advertisements — yours grip onto the bars of the window that had been covered up by old newspapers.

Satoru’s grip onto the front of both of your shirts. His glasses go askew as he struggles to keep up with his boyfriends. Suguru misses Satoru so much. He’d been away too, the Higher Ups sending him overseas at the same time as you and Shoko had to deal with a depressed Suguru for those 3 days.

“Mah, Satoru,” you drag your lips to Satoru’s sensitive neck. His hands don’t seem to know what to do with themselves. It grips and pushes and stutters. “I always give Suguru special kisses after a job well done, you’ve just always been too busy to notice.”

“S’not fair,” Satoru retorts with no real venom in his words. “I deserve special kisses too, don’t I?” Suguru chuckles, forcing Satoru to look his way and shut him up. Satoru glares over the rim of his crooked glasses as Suguru’s thumb presses down on his canines.

“What a jealous brat.”

“Can’t even handle a little teasing.”

Satoru would heavily disagree with that. A little teasing? You called being pushed to a wall, groped, kissed, and bitten by your handsome and powerful boyfriends a little teasing?

Satoru was a sign of change, his birth instantly tipped the scales of the sorcerer world, but he was still human!

Suguru grins that irritatingly pleased grin when Satoru’s protests die out thanks to your hands slipping down his pants. “Oh shit,” he hisses. His speech is odd with Suguru’s thumb in his mouth, casually inspecting it. But you laugh anyway.

“You know, since he has been away too, maybe he does deserve a bit of sugar from you, (Y/N).” You glance at Suguru, your cock chubbing up in your pants as he pointedly motions his gaze to the ground. You kneel in front of Satoru and drool slips down his chin as his pupils chase after you. Suguru chuckles, wiping it away and wiping it off on Satoru’s shirt — to which he hears no complaint. Suguru stands behind you, bending at his waist to peer down. It’s unfair how pretty he is from any angle. The Gods took their time making him. Of that, you are certain.

“Ready, sweetheart?” you nod, opening your saccharine-sweet mouth; Suguru pats your cheek as praise and undoes Satoru’s pants for you. His cock springs out, nearly bumping into your nose as it strains and twitches in the open air. When Suguru holds it, Satoru grunts and raises his hips. Fucking into his fist like a dog in heat. Suguru regards this with a shake of his head and guides Satoru to your mouth. You form a fist around your thumb, looking up at Satoru through your lashes as you wrap your lips around him.

Suguru straightens his composure. He takes in the sight.

Satoru and you know better than to be handsy. The pale-haired man grabs onto the bars of the window behind him, breathing through his nose as the toe of his shoes dig into the floors. You slip your eyelids close and languish in the taste of Satoru’s cock — breathing through your nose as well as you bob your head.

Fuck, Suguru missed this. He really did. He could get off on this alone. Just watched as both of you enjoyed the other. His darling boyfriends, who so obediently listen to his whims even if he didn’t say it out loud.

Who could ask for more?

Suguru strokes over your eyebrow and barely stifles a laugh when you tilt your head so Satoru’s tip pokes your cheeks.

“Good boy. My sweet boy.”

His voice alone makes you want to give in to whatever it is he asks of you — it’s insane how much power and sway he has. Your charming Suguru.

Satoru moans, swiftly reaching out and gripping onto the collar of Suguru’s top. They kiss. Fighting for dominance because Satoru needs to be pushed into submission. He relishes being put in his place — smacked around a little.

You could pinpoint this kink originating from his frivolous childhood and naturally talented self needing some sort of edge to sink down into a more fuzzy headspace.

Or perhaps Satoru was just a brat and he trusted his lovers enough to relinquish that control. Both theories worked.

Suguru grunts as Satoru tugs at his hair, the pleasant tinge of pain making his dick strain against his loose pants. You spot it from the corner of your eyes, an obscene slurping sound coming from you as you attempt to not make this blowjob too messy. An impossible task, really. But a worthy effort.

“Your lips taste like cherry, why?” Satoru’s question catches Suguru off-guard. He expected Satoru’s usual quips and huffiness. He indulges.

“(Y/N) wore cherry-flavoured lipgloss.”

The proof is in the coloured streaks on his dick. You feel it twitch on your tongue and pull away, your hot breath on his cockhead making precum leak out of his blushing tip. You rest it on your velvet tongue, unabashedly pouting to kiss the tip and then taking him inside again. Those slightly shimmery streaks made Satoru grit his teeth.

“I didn’t know those came in flavours,” Satoru moans. “How come you don’t wear that for me too?”

“Because it’s for me, you little shithead,” Suguru growls lowly. Their foreheads touch as he tightens his grip on Satoru’s neck, the pressure making Satoru’s eyelids flutter for a second. “It’s my prize for exorcising curses.”

“You jealous?” you wonder out loud. The answer was clear but there was a rush to make Satoru admit it.

“Yes, I am!” He curses for a moment as you descend further down to lick at his balls, looking up at him still as if this conversation was taking place over a dinner table and not in an alleyway with society just a few meters away. As if his dick wasn't on your face while you feel his balls tightening up on your tongue.

Seriously, if somebody peered down long enough they would most definitely catch sight of the three of you here.

“I just – just...fuck, I missed the two of you too. It’s completely unfair you’ve been keeping this from me too! I’ll never forgive you.”

Suguru grabs the back of your neck and pulls you backward. His large hands effectively push your head down further and further until your nose is at the neat patch of pubic hair Satoru has. You relax your throat and jaw, eyes watering while you brace your hands on Satoru’s thighs.

“So why didn’t you just tell us that, darling?" Suguru purrs. "Instead, you chose to be a brat and stomp around. You’re better than that, Satoru. Aren’t you? Hm?”

You gag but Suguru holds you in place. His hand barely has any real strength behind it. If you jerked backward, he would not hold you in place. No, no. Suguru’s power comes from the lack of strength he needs to exhibit. His dominance is in the ease Suguru commands it.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You needed him inside of you.

“Screw you, Suguru,” Satoru chokes out.

He pulls you off. You cough, spit staining your chin as you smile loosely at them. Suguru then pulls you onto your feet, pushes you to the wall, and undoes your pants. You bite down on your lower lip, staring at Satoru as you brace your hands onto the wall just next to him. Satoru watches on, trying to keep himself strong by pretending he isn’t affected by the sight before him.

Suguru gathers spit in his mouth but pauses as he feels the candy wrapper in your pockets. The chocolate brand makes his brows raise. It’s expensive. No doubt Satoru’s influence had rubbed off on you. Only one company in the world made this chocolate, its pink colour is a dead giveaway. No wonder your cherry-flavoured gloss tasted so strong, it was complimented nicely by the leftover taste of this ruby chocolate.

He lets your pants pool around your ankles while he takes a bite. It wasn’t disgustingly soft, but your body heat made it melt quickly on his tongue. He spreads your ass apart and spits a thick glob of his spit and pink chocolate. The sensation sends shivers up your back and you arch your back further, unsure about the new sensation.

“Suguru, that was expensive — ngh!”

Your eyes widen as he presses his cock inside. You were thankful for your morning romp with them. It loosened you up enough that Suguru’s impatience didn’t cause pain and only mild discomfort — he reaches forward to jerk your cock off to ebb it away and you moan out his name.

“Shh, shh, not so loud. We’re still outside, baby.”

Satoru groans, reaching to toss his glasses away as he turns his back to the entrance and gives you his full attention. He’s craving touch. To taste or to mark you up. To do anything, really. He is goddamn hypnotized by the way Suguru’s dick thrusts in and out of you. Suguru gives you a good fucking for too short of a time — pounding into you like a jackhammer and making you nearly bite your tongue off in an attempt to keep quiet before he pulls out.

Your knees buckle, thighs twitching as you try to keep yourself upright. Satoru’s knees thud onto the floor and he greedily laps at Suguru’s cock, moaning at the creamy taste. The same flavour leaks out of you while you catch your breath. The mouth of the alleyway is quiet but there are still the faint noises of the city just there. A few big strides away. But there. It excites you. You imagine it’s exciting your equally perverted boyfriends too.

"Satoru," Suguru groans at the sight of him. You peel yourself from the wall. Shoulders thudding onto the hard surface while your pants drop to your ankles. Shakily, you use your feet to push it all the way off, eyes trained on Satoru savouring the flavour of Suguru and the ruby chocolate. He pulls away with a breathy 'pwah!' and strokes Suguru's creamy dick.

You're tempted to join Satoru. Just sharing Suguru's cock, kissing Satoru with his cockhead between your lips. Fuck, just the thought has your dick slapping lightly against your navel. Suguru plants a hand near your head, turning his head to kiss you while the other is tugging on the roots of Satoru's head. a

"Both of my boys are being so obedient," he says after a deliciously deep groan of Satoru's name. "We missed you," you reply in a whiny whisper.

"Missed you so much, S'guru..."

Satoru moans, pulling away as he catches his breath and shares a heated gaze.

"Fuck, I missed you so badly. Missed this dick too," Satoru turns to your crotch and kisses the underside of your dick. It makes your breath hitch, hips jerking forward. The wetness of your precum smears on Satoru's cheek a bit but he doesn't even mind. Nor does he seem to notice.

"These cocks are the only ones that make me this hungry."

Suguru glances at the alleyway. You're not loud enough to draw attention. Still, better safe than sorry.

"Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure." You throw your head back to laugh. A veil was meant to conceal, protect those outside of it, and maintain secrecy. To use it so improperly.

The three of you were truly perverted.

"What's got you all giggly?" Suguru speaks against your lips. Tilting your chin upwards then squeezing the sides of your neck just to relish in the way you bare your neck to him.

"You used a veil," Satoru speaks for you. He raises, ignoring Suguru's pointed glance in favour of unbuttoning your shirt and kissing down your chest. His lips are sticky, smears of pink tainting you but you find it hard to care. "He's laughing because he thinks we're perverts."

"What are you? A mind reader now, Satoru?" You huff.

"I might as well be, huh?" Satoru smirks. He's so handsome that it makes your chest hurt sometimes. You're against the wall, exits blocked by Suguru and Satoru and you wouldn't have it any other way. "You know, I missed you too. It's been weeks — "

"Three days," Suguru and you corrected.

"Weeks. And this morning wasn't enough. We did such a good job, those wrinkle bags can't complain if we just so happened to work overtime, right?"

Ijichi can't stop his cheek from heating up. It's painfully, painfully, obvious why the three of you took your time for this mission. He had waited in the car for the first hour, then occupied himself with some coffee at a nearby cafe but by the third hour, Ijichi almost called Principal Yaga.

Three Special Grade Sorcerers took that long to exorcise an abandoned building. Surely, something must have happened!

Yet, seeing you sleeping on Suguru's lap with your legs across Satoru's lap confirms the real reason why it took the three of you that long.

Satoru has a weighted eye mask, head tossed back as he recuperates. This gives Ijichi a clear sight of his marked-up neck. Your shirt is wrinkled, hitched up from the bend of your waist, and giving him the whispers of handmarks. Suguru met his gaze from the rearview and Ijichi whispered out an apology.

"No, please. We're sorry for keeping you waiting." Suguru is brushing your bangs back, gently wiping down some residual stickiness on your cheeks with wet wipes (that Ijichi had made a point to stock up on in the car after earlier missions involving you three).

"No, I understand," he says with a shaky voice. Sighing a little he laughed awkwardly from the driver's seat.

"You must've been missing them a lot for those three days they've been gone, Mr Geto."

Suguru's expression softens, leaning one shoulder down when Satoru leans to place his head on his shoulders.

"It's hard not to. I love them."

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

I have always had a hard time gaining muscle since I have a genetic problem in that area and I look younger than I am because I am a pasty white ginger. My dream has always been to be one of those huge hairy lumberjacks. I wish you could get me a job as one and within a few days I grow into my new roll.

Gingers are amazing. It sounds like we just need to set you on the right track. Sleeping through the night you have dreams of muscle. Hair. And being a lumberjack. Little did you know that while you sleep your body begins to change. Getting on the right bath. You grow taller from 5’6” to a giant 6’2”. You feet hang off the bed ! And muscle begins to grow. Real hulking your frame up. Massive arms hang from your sides while massive pecs form over a strong core ! And hair grows. And lots of it. Soon you’re a wirey mess of hair and muscle. Sweat is pouring off your body and staining the end sheets. Even dripping off your thickened large feet.

Waking up you are shocked to see such a grand change over night. You’re flexing and can’t help it ! You can’t wait to show off your new lumberjack body. This is really a dream come true ! Your friends come over and are shocked at your transformation. They don’t even believe it’s you but they can still see it is. Your face even though covered with hair is still recognizable under the thick pelt that’s now on it. They demand to know how this happened. What did you do! And you just smirk and say “well wishes come try to people who ask the right person” and indeed you are right 😈

You enjoy the rest of the evening with your friend. Loving it up as they call you name like ginger bear and the walking barrel! You’re huge ! One downfall so far though is that you notice how much more you sweat. How much hungrier you are. You don’t think you stopped eating all day ! But a growing bean like yourself needs all the calories you can get don’t you? That night you pass out. Those 15 beers really did you in!

While you sleep just like the night before you begin to change again. Hair thickening. Becoming more prominent on your arms and hands even your feet. But one other thing happens. Age. You begin to quickly lose that youthful appearance as you take on a more rugged look. One that is fitting of a lumberjack. One that been doing it for a couple years or so. Lines forming on your face and your muscle growing less defined but non the less till there. You wake up the next morning sore. You sit up in bed and don’t notice anything right off hand other than you back slightly hurting. Calases on your hands and feet have formed. It that’s from being a true lumberjack right? You walk to the bathroom and you’re shocked to see a man I of at least 40 staring back at you !

You step back from the mirror. What is going on!? Your mind is in a panic but your face registered none of these emotions. A lumberjack doesn’t freak out. If anything your body as if on auto pilot gives rush same smirk again and you get dressed. You go out for the day. Getting a beer here and there. Eating! You try to reach out to your friends and they respond back asking who you are. You’re too old to have friends their age now anyway right ? So it’s all part of the magic. You’ll need to find new friends that str more inline with the same path you’re on.

You make it back to your home which you see is slowly changing. Becoming more of a log cabin it looks like. Busting through the door with some tightening shoes and some sweaty pits you stumble to the kitchen with your case of beer. Another 15 in and your already passed out on the couch. And now it’s time for the final change. You age another 10 years. 50! Now you’ve really got some serious life experience as a lumberjack. A thick great beard grows across your face as your timberland boots burrs open at the toes from your feet growing another 4 sizes. 17!! Your nipples point downward on hard slabs of muscle the sag only slightly. You’re snoring louder than ever as your stomach pushes outward. Holding the same rock hard appearance and feel that it has before. But now forcing a massive rock hard muscle gut onto your frame. When you wake up and see the changes this time youre shocked. Internally screaming again. But your body won’t respond to this emotion. Instead. Instinctively open another beer and chug it. And another. And another. You stand up from the couch and kick off your trashed shoes. Your socks have holes in them as you make your way to the bathroom. Stripping off the remnants of clothes that won’t fit anymore you stare at your massive finger bear body in the mirror. “Damn I look good!” You growl. Distended abdomen. Bulging bulking muscle. Massive feet. And so much hair you look like you’re wearing a damn sweater. You smile at your sweaty body. Now the only problem. You’re a lumberjack….but without clothes.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

The head of the baby bursts into my waiting palm. My chest is beating a mile a minute seeing your throbbing vagina bulging with our child's waiting shoulders. Your taut stomach heaves fluidly, free from a contraction for now.

My phone buzzes rapidly in my pocket. With my free hand, I pull it out. Our brother-in-law had already called me three times when I was trying to find you.

"Hey, man where are you guys? You can come in the room, Liz just had the ba-"

"Kelsey's giving birth! Send a nurse or something to the women's bathroom!" I yelled into the phone.

Our brother-in-law babbled for a second before I heard him waving down a nurse. I close the call and turn my full focus back to you. Your belly is starting to tense again and your voice rises in desperation.

"Need em out, oooooh god~"

"I don't know what I'm doing here, honey, you gotta wait till the nurse comes," I support the head with one hand and steady a firm, gentle hand on the bulging shoulders.

[Part 1]

I grasp your shoulders as you’re kneeling between my thighs, carefully holding the head of our child. My belly is taut and solid, wracked with the force of another contraction, and I pant and squirm trying to hold off from bearing down.

“Ngghhh…. Ohhh god….” I groan, fingernails clawing into your strong and sturdy frame. “It’s too much, there’s so much pressure— oh god I can feel it moving!”

The strangest sensation fluttered from within; first the baby kicked and then they turned in the birth canal preparing for their grand entrance.

“Oof— need to- need to move…” my feet planted back on the tiled bathroom floor and I tried to push myself to standing.

“Whoa! Kelsey, what are you doing?” You blurted, panicked trying to keep hold of the head as my body moved.

“I’m not giving b-birth on a toilet….” I grunted, heaving myself to my feet, legs obscenely wide around the baby’s born head.

As the contraction ramped up my strength drastically waned, feeling my knees start to tremble my hands flailed around to find something to hold on to and I gripped the very top of the narrow cubicle walls. I practically hung there, knees dipping slightly in a half squat, hips circling, while my fingers hooked over the sides of the cubicle. It was strange but the position somehow felt right… with gravity and open hips.

“Mmmhhh…. Babe… I don’t think I can hold off from pushing much l-longer—” I gritted. My eyes were closed, blocking out the visuals of where we were, trying instead to tune in to my body.

Your hand affectionately rubbed the inside of my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Breathe through it honey, I’m sure the nurse will be here any second.” Your voice trembled nervously giving away your panic.

Instead of fading away the squeezing of my womb ramped up another level, my body firmly protesting being held in this painful limbo. I growled, the pressure screaming at me to give in. The shoulders of our baby were nestled right there, pressing heavily against my opening and trying to get out.

“Oh no— it’s… it’s happening now… ohhhhhh-baby’s-coming—nghhhhhh—!!!!” My knees buckled, hanging off the sides of the cubicle I sank deeper into the squat bearing down hard.

• ☕️ •

Anon! You beautiful person you! These asks give me so much LIFE!!! Thank you!

[fortheb0ys]

BOTTOM WEREWOLF PHILLIP GRAVES × TOP VAMPIRE MALE READER

Happy Halloween!! This has been plaguing my mind non-stop. I love me some American boy🇺🇸🦅

CW: blood kink, monster fucking, breeding kink, rough sex, master kink, puppy play, last bit has cannibalism ( sorry lol.

FEM+MINORS DNI

Your teeth were buried in the back of Graves' neck, tasting his blood as you thrust into him. Your brain all haywire from the pleasure of Graves' tight heat and as red liquid coats your tongue.

You were fucking him doggy style, perfectly fitting your puppy boy.

Graves was pushing back on your every thrust meeting you halfway. His tongue his lulled out, drooling on the bloodstained sheets below. He was panting loudly, like the dog he is. His breaths came out short and ragged.

"God, puppy, you taste heavenly." You release Graves from your bite and lick you lips clean, wiping a trickle of blood that ran down your chin.

Pulling back to rest yourself on the heals of your feet while still being buried into Graves, you admire your work. Not in just the place you had just bitten but all along his back and shoulders were littered with bites both deep and shallow. His back red with blood. Any normal mortal would be dead but not Graves. He was a good boy. A terrifying werewolf turned into your puppy cock slut.

Your hand find it's way up to the red spiked collar around his neck, pulling him back, keeping him on your cock. A gold tag engraved with 'Blood Bank' on it, jiggles with each trust.

Graves felt shameful hearing himself be reduced to such a state but everything felt too much. Too good.

Whenever Graves was overwhelmed emotionally or in the case psychically, he would lose all control of his tail. It would just mindlessly wag. Whether if he was happy or mad. He wouldn't even noice till someone would point it out or more often than not, he'd hit it off someone. But in this instance, someone. That someone being you.

The quick wags of his tail was charming at first. Proud that you had fucked him cock drunk and stupid. But now it was hitting you against your side. It wasn't painful but it was more so beginning to throw you off.

After having enough, you let go of his collar and roughly grab Graves' wayward tail and pull him back onto your cock with it. A loud, surprised yelp sounds from Graves.

Your hand doesn't slow, pulling him quickly. His moans only get louder. His pathetic noises and the loud slaps of your balls hitting his ass rang loudly in Graves' ears. His ears being more sensitive than mortals, it was almost too much to bear.

He claws at the sheet, the pain and pleasure overwhelming him more than he thinks he can handle.

He justs wants to cum. His walls squeezed tightly around you. Graves brings his hand to grab his cock but you quickly stop him. Not gently, no. But by giving him an unexpected slap against his ass.

The hard slap shook Graves to his core and a jolt to his cock.

"Heel. Be a good boy and listen to your master. Can you do that?" You gently command, giving a little pat than messaging on the now blooming red mark on his backside. The gentle gesture in contrast to your rough treatment was sending Graves brain into a haywire frenzy. He tried to think of the words to relay an answer but when he opened his mouth to speak only heavy breaths were heard.

Tried of waiting for an answer, you lay two hard smack one after.

"I asked you something. Speak." Your tone now harsh again. Graves takes in short, quick breaths in, trying to will the strength to speak. He licks lips, noting how dry his throat was, he manages to muster up a weak, 'yes.'

Your grip on his tail tightens again, pulling him back even harder. Any harder, Graves could swear you'd be able to rip it clean off of him. A whimper escapes his throat as his hand finds itself back to the ripped sheets.

He closed his eyes as the humiliation settled in, his face red. He whimpered once more and you began abusing his prostate, hitting it with every trust.

" 'M a good boy. P-please let puppy cum."

Your cock throbs inside him. Hearing him beg always made something stir in you. Just hearing a feared commander come undone at your every whim and well was something to be proud of.

"God, you whimper like a fucking puppy." You sneer, fangs beared.

You begin to slam harder into him, knocking to breath from his lungs. Your hold is still on his tail, as you pull it to meet his thrusts.

"You'd look so good bred. You wanna be fucked full, don't ya?" You tease farther.

"P-please..please." Graves crys out, tears now streaming down his face. He was sure what he was asking for. They were just all the words he could manage.

"Almost there. Your doing so good for me."

You feel your release near, your thrust begin to get sloppy. Graves cries became louder as moans and incoherent sentences fell from his tongue.

"M-master. I want to see your face." He did want to see your face but he more so he wanted your grasp off of his tail. He prayed you'd have mercy and do want he wanted. They were answered when you let go of his tail and let your cock slip out. A sense of relief washed over him but was quickly cut when you flipped him on his back. You push his legs till he was practically folded in half. With one quick, rough thrust, you bury yourself back into his ass.

You pace is set fast once agian, chasing release. Graves cries with each thrust, tears are pooling in his eyes. His legs are trembling under your palms. You sink your teeth into his thighs, the taste of blood touches your tongue. You bite than lick the blood off, moving to another spot when satisfied, repeating the cycle again.

You look up from between Graves' legs and your eyes meet, pupils blown out with lust. Behind Graves' eyes there a plea. Seeing it you know what he wants before he could get the words out. You decide you'll give what he wants and bring you hand up to jerk him off. With just a few tugs, he cums into your palm.

You aren't far behind him. With one final bite to his thigh, you cum deep inside him with one rough thrust.

You both lay with the glow of sex. The only thing that could be heard was tired, deep breath. After a few moments you sit back, releasing Graves' legs. You pull out of Graves, watching your cum spill from his ass. Graves whines at the empty feeling, now missing you filling him to the brim.

You bring your hand to his face, still dripping with cum.

"Lick."

Graves diligently opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue at your one word command. You let his cum drip into his mouth. He brings his lips to your palm, lapping like a thirsty dog.

Graves licks the cum that dripped down your arm, moaning at the taste of himself. Without thinking he gives your skin a little nip. Much like you, he was a bitter. He looked at you apologetically. Bad dogs who bite get in trouble.

"It okay, puppy. You did so good for me. Good boys deserve a treat."

Now with your permission, Graves sinks his teeth farther into your arm. You could feel your flesh and muscle tear from bone beneath the iron grip of Graves' teeth. The pain was overwhelming but god, did it feel good. The smell of iron and cum hung heavy.

He rips off a large portion of your forearm. He innocently blinks up at you waiting any further commands. You can feel your missing flesh heal, knitting back together muscle and skin.

"Go on. Swallow."

With one gulp, Graves feels it go down his throat. Your taste was overwhelming. His tail begins to wag as he smiles happily at his job well done.

"You're such a good boy, Graves." You smile back at him, giving him a pat on the head. He buries his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent.

"I'll always be your good boy, Y/N."

[shalomniscient]

Hello, first I would like to say that I hope you and yours can stay safe and take care during the holidays and that you have a merry thanksgiving.

That said, I also come bearing a gift as yet another shameless thirst has stricken me and left me plagued with both wonderous and terrible mental images.

This may be something I make into a ficlet on here and ao3, but for now I bestow it upon you.

P.S. NSFW Ahead, let the SS Thirst set sail.

You recall the maid cafe idea I sent you?

Imagine that the chief decides to surprise some of the Sinner women by dressing up as a maid and taking care of them, namely imagine the reaction of Rahu and Shalom when they return from an assignment to be greeted by the Chief wearing a maid outfit and waiting for them.

Imagine she has made them their favorite meal, drawn them a bath, with the chief helping them bathe, and even gives them a massage to help them relax, that said massage includes a 'happy ending' that leaves them a puddle of contented warmth as the reader asks them if they want anything else, maybe something tight and hot and wet?

Or maybe they would prefer something thick and hard, maybe made of cold plastic or maybe it is made of warm and pulsating flesh and is already dripping from the tip?

Or maybe they are spent already, and just want to bask in the comforting warmth of the chief's body and lay together in the bed and cuddle?

Some, such as Rahu and Zoya, would be all to eager to take the opportunity and have some more fun, while I can imagine others like Shalom are already spent and while they may like to play more, they enjoy the idea of resting a bit more.

For those that want to sleep and cuddle, they find themselves either lifted off their feet, Shalom swooning as she is cradled against the Chief's body, and tucked into bed beside the chief, their head nestles against their chest with the heartbeat of their beloved echoing in their ears as the chief lovingly coos at them and strokes their hair till they relax and drift into slumber.

For those that want to keep going, the chief smiles at them and guides them to the bedroom, where they begin to undress until they have all of their clothes neatly arranged on the ground around them as they take a naked dogeza position as they tell the Sinners that 'This Chief is all yours, please use them till you are satisfied.'

If Shalom had not been tired after the massage, then this is the point where she goes full body red, just as Rahu and many others would I imagine.

After all is said and done, the Chief and the sinner sleep like it is described above, with both falling into a deep slumber.

As you can probably tell, I don't do ideas halfway lol.

That said, take care and stay safe.

hey hey back at it again !! and merry thanksgiving to you too my liege :)

once more, holy fucking shit ??? love love love the domestic/fluffier side of this, especially pampering the sinners when they get back from a long mission 🥺🥺🥺 shalom my darling my beloved ,,,, she would SO appreciate coming home to you. just, the fact that she has one is so special to her already. so many years spent as a tool to only go from one problem to another, never able to find somewhere to rest and take this burden off her shoulders—until now. until you. she doesn’t need any particularly grand gestures either, just waiting for her in the living room so she can fall into your arms at the end of the day is good enough for her. her home has always been you, anyway—she’d follow you to oblivion and back. AND RAHU 🥺🥺🥺 sometimes rahu wld take a massage over sex im ngl, being a bodyguard is hard work, much less a soldier for p*aradeisos. a nice, warm bath would be so heavenly to her that sometimes she straight up falls asleep in the tub LMAO she’ll give you lazy but sincere kisses in thanks before flopping into bed and wrapping her arms around you, ever so protective even in sleep. dgsgdhshdgksh in conclusion, the intimacy of domesticity with ptn women (might offer more brainrot about this down the line…………. who knows)

side note to be 100% honest w you the maid stuff is kinda secondary to me in that it’s cool but i’m kinda neutral about it lol ?? BUT ur brainrot is still fun to pick apart and expand on my liege and i appreciate ur asks nonetheless :) take care !!

[concubusbunni]

So no art for this post as I'm a writer and not gotten back into art in a while and need to find time to improve my art skills.

So I did a team of 6 knights that would all occasionally come to earth to fight monsters from different backgrounds and due to their unique injuries they never stay long and have to find new and creative ways to stay on earth and experience it.

I hope that a few aren't breaking canon and that people dig them, took me a while to make these guys, really fun writing them and I'll be writing a short story based on them in a few hours on their daily life as knights.

Name: Amara Bello

Age: 28

Race: Lion goat hybrid

Pronouns: They/ them

Orientation: pansexual

Personality: cheerful, excitable and brash

Mortal wound and Weapons: head- flail shotgun and torso- javelin canon.

Martial arts: capoeira

Ability: destruction wave: can send out a wave of energy or beam or orb that will destroy or damage anything it touches.

Appearance: runner fit body, goat horns, lion man, lion claws, goat feet, coat is the usual cool brown and white and brown of their goat parent, a lions face, apart from their mortal wounds that have scars on legs and arms as well as piercings on tongue, lower lip, septum and left eye brow.Pink hair with deep brown goat eyes. Arms, legs and tail amputee.

Amara is an anthro hybrid transfem enby that lived in Nigeria till they sacrificed themselves for a dear friend that was in danger, they took the attack of some monster and had their body severed.Thanks to that they have multiple weapons, but a single hand book.Arms, neck, torso, tail and legs got severed in a devastating slashing attack that killed them almost instantly.Thanks to that though they got to leave their boring job of working in an office to fighting monsters, they had pondered on what it would be like to be one of those heroes.

Name: Yuuki Hayashi

Age: 48

Race: Panda

Pronouns: He/him

Orientation: straight

Personality: strong willed, courageous and selfish

Mortal wound and Weapon: gut- ring blade.

Martial arts: MMA

Ability: metal conjunction: can summon magic metal from his body in any shape that he desires.

Appearance: a short bulky bear with defined wrestler muscles, panda body patters and ear piercings.White hair with black eyes.

Yuuki is an anthro man from Japan with a tendencies to get into trouble and had dealings with the mob/ criminal gang and usually watches over one of the bosses children. One faithful day they came under attack by a demon and having grown attached to the daughter he's watched over the past few months he managed to defend her at the cost of his life. Firing a hole in his abdomen he dead on the floor with the cries of the little girl.When he woke up he vowed to never again turn a blind eye to evil or wrong doings.

Name: Ava Clayton

Age: 22

Race: human

Pronouns: She/her

Orientation: Omnisexual aromantic

Personality: quiet, ignorant, meek and anxious.

Mortal wounds and weapons: left side of head, head shot- rapier.

Martial arts: jiu jutsu

Abilities: blood conjugation and manipulation.

Appearance: pale muscular youth with a tired expression, nose ring and tongue piercing, blonde with green eyes.

Ava Managed to save a stranger in need of her assistant from a monster attack and then meeting their end but got clocked in the dome by a stray bullet that hit her.

Name: Dee Nye

Age: 26

Race: Ferret

Pronouns: She/ her

Orientation: aspec

Personality: excitable, bubbly, mischievous and rude.

Martial arts: karate

Mortal wounds and weapons: split head- whip sword.

Abilities: pyro wind manipulation.

Appearance: brown fur, red hair, brown eyes, fit climber body, piercings on tongue, lips and ears.

Dee saved someone before falling down a great height and having her head crushed from the impact and now have a scar along their head. Dee and Dell are twins.

Name: Dell Nye

Age: 26

Race: Ferret

Pronouns: He/ they

Orientation: bisexual

Personality: bubbly, mischievous, sneaky, crafty.

Martial arts: karate

Mortal wounds and weapons: split gut- whip sword.

Abilities: cryo wind manipulation.

Appearance: brown fur, red hair, brown eyes, fit climber body, piercings on tongue, eye brow, lips and ears.Dell Nye is a twin of Dee.

Dell young demi boy that died a few months after their sister did saving a bunch of comrades from a monster attack and had their gut split and bled out.

Name: Marie Belrose

Age: 23

Race: human

Pronouns: she/ he

Orientation: demisexual bisexual

Personality: selfless, brave, laid back and nonchalant.

Martial arts: savate

Mortal wounds and weapons: amputated feet and feet gauntlets.

Abilities: friction manipulation: super speed.

Appearances: ear and lower lip piercings, runner body, burn scar on face, blue hair and green eyes, light skin.

Marie is a bigender lean runner that is into getting people out of trouble through their fast and fit body, but they met their end one day when they couldn't be fast enough and the person that they were trying to save dying soon afterwards. Losing their feet and have energy feet to replace the ones that were devoured.

[twistedtummies2]

The Scarlet Pirate - Chapter 3

This is the third of a six-part "Chapter Story" for my OC for Twisted Wonderland, James Killian - based on Captain Hook from Disney's Peter Pan. (Also featured are Smitty McCarthy, based on Smee, and Matthew Satyr, based on Peter himself...oh, and Nakoda - my Kaa OC - also has a role here.) The basic premise of this story has been in my mind for almost as long as James has, but for numerous reasons, it wasn't till just within the past few weeks I finally got a chance to develop and write it out.

The result is, I think, the single longest "Chapter Story" for any of my OCs for TW I've created so far. Take that information however you will. So long as this tale, that it went from a planned three-parter, to a planned five-parter, to now being a six-parter, standing at approximately 150 pages in total! Hopefully, all the work and length will be for the best. XD

As is typical for my Chapter Stories, I will be posting this one chapter at a time per day over the course of this week. For future reference, you can find the previous chapter here.

You can find the next chapter here.

WARNING: While this story, throughout all six parts, does not FOCUS on my kinks, there are instances of very mild stuffing/belching related content sprinkled throughout, as well as various instances of implied or near vore situations. If you're into these things, good on ya. If you aren't, just be warned they will show up here and there, although not with any degree of spectacle.

With that said...I hope you enjoy.

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

Once you and your friends decided to join in the skirmish, the ambush at the Dwarf’s Cottage became a real battle. Azul raced to Sebek’s side, the octopus and the crocodile holding out their Magic Pens like wands. The Royal Sword students had their own magical equipment at the ready. Two of them - one dressed in a rabbit-skin hood, the other in a similar garment resembling a red fox - stepped forward, and thrust out their Pens, sending sparkling white shots of Cosmic energy at the Night Raven pair. Azul and Sebek swiped their pens through the air, summoning protective barriers to parried the shots, then each thrust out their own magic conduits. From Azul’s side, a pillar of water suddenly burst out of the ground, soaking the Fox and knocking the sputtering RSA member over. He floundered as he loosened his grip on his Magic Pen; it fell to the ground as he toppled, drenched to bone. He began scrambling in the mud to try and find it…only to yelp sharply and begin to “dance” as Azul began to send icy darts shooting his way, aiming at his feet with a sinister smile. Meanwhile, Sebek used Leaf Shot, over and over again, launching bundles of floral power towards his enemy. The Rabbit, however, guarded against each shot, and then raised their own Pen, summoning a bolt of light energy to try and strike Zigvolt down. The crocodile-fairy, however, was quick to dodge the strike, leaping to the side. He smirked as he twirled his pen tauntingly. “Is that how you want to play?” he grinned with a sort of eager growl. “Then let me show you THE TRUE POWER OF DIASOMNIA!” What looked like a stormcloud formed over Sebek’s head; the Rabbit stepped back worriedly as vibrant green sparks of electrical power seemed to surround the half-fae. Sebek’s eyes began to glow brighter, till they were pools of neon-green light, as he crouched into an almost predatory stance.“Strike through the stormy heavens, O Lightning!” Sebek intoned, in a strange incantation, then roared with victorious intensity: “LIVING BOLT!” ZOOM! Sebek darted forward, his whole body shrouded in electricity, and slammed into the Rabbit. The RSA student yelped and flew backwards from the mixture of speed and strength combined. Another pair of RSA students saw the attack on their compatriot - the ones dressed as a Bear and a Skunk, respectively - and hurried to their aid, Pens at the ready. They hardly had time to even think up a spell, however, before Sebek thrust out his hands and sent volleys of lightning shooting towards them. The pair yowled as they were shocked violently, then fell to the ground, knocked unconscious by the power of the spell. Sebek snarled and cracked his neck, his eyes returning to normal as he breathed heavily, letting his power die down. Azul had paused in his torment of the Fox, clearly quite startled. “Goodness me,” he murmured, and slowly smiled. “Most impressive, Sebek, I must confess! I can see why you’re so proud of your abilities!” Sebek smirked over his shoulder. “Ha!” he barked out, jabbing a thumb at himself. “Such ability pales in comparison to the Great Malleus, but no proper guardsman of his worth should have any less skill!”

“Indeed!” Azul agreed, a hint of greed in his eyes (which Sebek did not catch). “You know, perhaps there’s another way to use your power, provided the expenditure of energy isn’t too great. There ARE a lot of people worried about overusing electrical-” “ASHENGROTTO, BEWARE!” Sebek suddenly shouted in warning, pointing towards the Fox. Azul had barely enough time to whip around before the Fox pounced on him bodily, knocking the octopus-man’s Magic Pen out of his hand as he tackled him to the ground.Sebek worriedly shuffled as he watched the pair roll about on the forest floor, kicking up dust; the Fox had spotted the edge of the paper clue in Azul’s pocket, and was trying to snag hold of it, while Azul was trying to keep him from doing that. Sebek knew he should do something…but with the pair tousling around the way he were, he was afraid any offense or defense offered might affect Azul instead of his opponent.

While the crocodile and the octopus were dealing with those four, Smitty McCarthy was not idle. He’d tried to slip away from the direct line of combat…but he hadn’t gone far before a golden spark suddenly flashed in his face, nearly blinding him. The spark was a yellow pixie. She hovered in front of Smitty’s face and blew a raspberry at him, tauntingly twitching her wings. “K-Kes!” squeaked McCarthy, and suddenly frowned as he clapped his palms together to try and catch her. “C-Come here, you little…!” Kes thankfully darted out of the way. Smitty, not fully realizing this, opened his palm to see if he’d gotten her. Which gave Kes a chance to shoot forward and force the cap over Smitty’s eyes. The small man squealed and blindly staggered around, trying to grab hold of the pixie, who easily avoided his grabbing fingers. Finally, Smitty gained better balance, and tore the hat off his head and away from his eyes. “Hey!” he snapped. “That’s not very nice!” Smitty swung his red cap around and around his head as he tried to catch Kes inside of it. The sprite (being, appropriately, spritely) darted about his head with astonishing speed, swifter than any buzzing insect as she flitted about, jingling her pixie bells teasingly. She swooped down between Smitty’s legs, and as he tried to catch her, he twisted himself about and yelped as he caused himself to trip over his own feet and fall onto his bunce. Kes came swooping back again…but Smitty - now QUITE irritated - successfully swept his hat up and caught her inside it. “Gotcha!” he grinned…but his amusement was short lived as, suddenly, Kes jerked inside the hat and - WHAP! - ended up smacking Smitty in the face with his own headgear as she flew about inside the small cloth prison. Smitty yipped and yapped like a puppy, stumbling and staggering as his own headgear seemed to cartoonishly attack him, the pixie dragging him around with uncommon strength for a creature so small. “S-Stop moving!” yelped Smitty. “Come on, Kes, I’ve already…YIKES!” The pixie dragged Smitty clean off his feet and into the bushes nearby, where he tripped a second time, and went rolling down a small incline on the other side. As he lay at the bottom - clothes dusty, glasses askew, empty hat in his lap. Kes zipped into the air with a smug smile, crossing her arms boldly as she looked down at him. Smitty just pouted and fixed his glasses. “Kes,” he said, with darkness that would have sounded threatening if ANYONE who WASN’T Smitty McCarthy had used it, “This means war.” Kes giggled in reply, and zoomed away, with Smitty scrambling to his feet, slapping his hat back onto his head as he gave chase. Of course, yourself and Grim could not be left out of the picture. You weren’t sure what you could do on your own terms, in magical combat…but you hadn’t gotten this far by being totally helpless. You still had your wits, for a start. You hurried to stand beside Grim. The cat-like creature hissed, fur rustling and bristling, as the Twin Raccoons approached you both, wielding their Magic Pens. “Aim for the one on the right,” you suggested. “Nya! On it!” grinned Grim, and took a deep breath before sending a jet of cerulean flame in their direction.

The First Raccoon wasted no time, and jumped into the air, flipping over his twin as they swapped places. The Second then somersaulted towards you, decreasing the distance; as he landed on his feet, he aimed his pen, and shot a bolt of cosmic light your way. You ducked the attack, while Grim yelped and bounced out of the way of a similar strike from the First Twin. The pair of Royal Sword students giggled mischievously, and - seemingly just to show off, they both cartwheeled in opposite directions, passing each other in parallel patterns and then bouncing off the trees, flying through the air as they shot at the same time, each aiming for one of you. Once again, you both only barely managed to sidestep the magic shots. “Wh-where do I aim now?!” Grim exclaimed, rather puzzled by the movements. “Keep your aim on the right,” you said through your teeth, as you both backed up, the pair of Twins nimbly landing and beginning to creep towards you. “It doesn’t matter which one is which; what matters is beating them. Don’t fire till I tell you to.” Grim nodded to show he understood. Moments later, the Twins in the Raccoon hoods threw themselves back to back. They each aimed again and fired once more. Once again, you and your feline-esque friend managed to dodge the magical strikes…and the pair began to somersault, one spinning so that they somersaulted at the same time, with one’s legs in the air each time the other’s made contact with the ground. “Nya! Now they’re both together!” whined Grim. “That’s perfect!” you insisted, and pointed, perhaps more dramatically than you meant to. “FIRE NOW!” Grim grinned and once again breathed out a jet of blue flame. The one in the air at that moment yowled, as sparks of fire ignited the seat of their pants. Alarmed, their Twin stalled; knees buckled and they both tumbled to the ground, the one with their pants on fire rolling to try and put out the flame. “Hit the other one!” you shouted. “Right!” yapped Grim, and sent a second volley of fire towards the untouched Twin…who soon was left in the exact same position as his brother, the pair comically rolling about about in the dirt. You and Grim smirked at each other, and the little demon jumped up as you gave each other a high-five.

All the while, as this was going on, Matthew Satyr and James Killian continued to duel. Thrick-thrack-thrick-thrack! The cane and the metal baton clipped against one another in quick, precise motions from either side. Satyr grinned all the while, while James glared back, his own expression damnably serious. Finally, Satyr swiped at Killian…but instead of blocking or parrying, the man in red skipped back, before thrusting in a powerful lunge.

Nakoda Spivak watched all of this action, unsure of what to do. It seemed like everyone else was managing quite well without him. He looked up towards one of the nearby trees and smirked…perhaps there was still a way he could contribute. Hissing in his usual snickering way to himself (or perhaps snickering in his usual hissing way, take your pick), the naga ran over to the tree and began to climb. Matthew - who was still hovering a small way above the ground, having not touched down once at all - flew up higher into the air, and flipped over James’ head. He spun back to face Killian, just in time, as James whirled about and swung at him harshly with his chosen staff. Satyr ducked out of the way, and as he came up, swung his baton in an uppercutting motion. James blocked it readily, and the two weapons scraped against each other as each backed up and circled the other. “Sure you don’t wanna throw in the towel, James?” teased Matthew. “Not today, Satyr,” sneered his opponent. “I awoke this morning with a tune in my soul: ‘Yo-Ho, Yo-Ho, I’m going to win today!’” “Nicely sung! Shame it’s a lie,” giggled Matthew. James just narrowed his eyes. “Your tongue is as unimpressive as your abilities, half-fairy,” he responded. “My victory is inevitable. If I were you, I’d just give up.” “If you were me, James, I’d need a haircut.” “BAH!” exclaimed James, and whipped out his cane again. Satyr blocked the strike, and then another as James spun around and swiped in a wide arc with his “blade.” The crimson battler then swung the weapon in a low arc, as if to try and smack against Satyr’s knees. Matthew, however, lifted his legs, and hovered upside-down in mid-air, before parrying another strike. Seemingly surprised by this skillful defense, James stepped back, hesitating for just a moment… …And at the same time that hesitation took place - “AHA!” - a shrill cry came from the Fox, who leapt off of Azul, holding up the rolled-up piece of paper in one hand as Azul tried to scramble to his feet. “MATTHEW!” the Royal Sword Student called out. “I’VE GOT IT! I’VE GOT IT!”

All froze and looked towards the source of the sound. The fallen RSA students sat up, alerted and awakened. You and Grim halted your cheers, while Kes and Smitty - who had been running around in circles - paused in their merry little chase. All were focused on the boy in the Rabbit’s hood, holding the paper aloft. Only James and Sebek moved. Sebek lifted his Magic Pen, ready to attack the Rabbit. At the same time, with Matthew’s back to him, James finally saw a chance, and prepared to hammer the heavy end of his cane - the golden topper - onto Satyr’s skull, intending to conk him out. Matthew Satyr must have sensed something, though, because he rocketed out of the way. James spun around clumsily, thrown off-balance by his own momentum. Satyr then shot forward and reached for his ally. “Grab hold!” he called out, and the fellow in the Rabbit hood reached up and took hold of his captain’s arms. Matthew managed to pull Rabbit out of the way and into the air…at the exact same time Sebek sent a ball of fire flying forwards. FWOOSH! “WHA-A-AGH!” screamed James, as he wound up getting hit by the fireball instead. When the flames finally stopped pulsing, James stood there, clothes and face humorously blackened and scorched. He coughed out smoke, eyes crossed… “S-Smitty…” he wheezed out…and promptly collapsed flat on his back. “AH! JAMES!” Smitty yelped, and jogged over to see to his friend. At the same time, Matthew set Rabbit down, and made a gesture to his team. The RSA students all went scampering into the woods, disappearing from view. Satyr grinned and tauntingly waved the clue around in the air like a flag, well over all of your heads. “Looks like the game’s gonna go to me!” he teased. “Anybody wanna try and stop me?” “Ssspeaking.” WHAPP! Matthew Satyr cried out in surprise as, without warning, what looked like the end of a large, fat snake’s tail wrapped around one of his legs. He looked to see Nakoda Spivak - in his true form - finally make his presence known. He grinned smugly at Satyr, even as the Royal Sword captain tried to kick free. “H-Hey! HEY! LET ME GO!” Matthew yelled. “Sss-sss-sss-sss! I sssussspected you might try to essscape through the air!” taunted Nakoda, and then looked down. “Sssomebody, quick! Take a shot!”

Sebek responded to Nako’s call by reeling back, ready to send another spell towards Satyr. James, however, was sitting up at that moment - Smitty had cast a spell to mend his outfit and clean him up - and when he saw what Sebek was doing, an almost feral look came to his eyes. “LEAVE HIM, YOU CURSED CROCODILE!” he roared at the top of his lungs, and suddenly sprang to his feet and charged forward. “HE’S MINE!” Sebek let out a grunting snarl of confusion, as James crashed into him shoulder-first. The attack wasn’t enough to knock Sebek over, but it did throw off his aim. A shot of dark magical energy went flying from his Pen, not towards Satyr…but right into Nakoda’s face. “SSSYAGH!” screeched Nako, clutching said face as the energy exploded against him. “MY EYES!” Matthew took the initiative to whip out his baton once more. Using it and Nako’s distracted state to his advantage, he managed to not only work his ankle free of the snake’s grasp, but knocked the end of Nako’s thick tail off the tree entirely. Thrown off by all of this, Nakoda suddenly let out a scream as his whole body lost control, and he went falling, tail-first, from the tree. He was sent spinning around the a thick branch some of his sales rested upon, then smacked his face against another on the way down, before finally collapsing into a bundled heap of coils on the ground, his humanoid form laying senseless atop the pile. “Oooooogh,” groaned Nakoda, his eyes spinning not with hypnotic power, but with pure dizziness. Matthew laughed so hard he had to clutch his stomach, then winked down at James. “Thanks for the help, old pal!” he taunted, and saluted with the hand that held the paper. “See ya when we get the chest!” So saying, Satyr let out a shrill crowing sound - like a rooster’s call - and flew off, disappearing into the treetops. “Nako!” you cried out, and ran over to check on the naga. “Are you alright?” “Not even the ssslightessst amount,” moaned Nakoda, slowly unwinding himself and massaging his jaw where he’d struck one of the branches. “Ssso much for that plan…” The naga began to unwind himself…and suddenly blinked as he heard Grim giggling at your side. “And what is ssso funny, pray tell?” he sniffed. “You've got a knot in your tail!” Grim answered, and pointed it out. Sure enough, somehow or other, during the fall, the end of the naga’s thick, fat tail had gotten twisted into what looked like a figure-eight knot. Nako glared, baring his fangs. “‘Oh, ha ha ha, you’ve got a knot in your tail!’” he babbled, mocking Grim’s words and voice. He then sighed before returning to his usual tone as he worked to try and tug the knot open again. “Urgh…keep sssniggering at that, and I’ll make you PART of my tail, ya sssilly little…!” “BUFFOON!”

Sebek’s shout startled you and Grim, making you turn around. You saw James and Smitty backing away as Sebek advanced on them both angrily. “I HAD A CLEAR SHOT! THE SERPENT HAD HIM IN HIS GRIP!” roared Zigvolt. “WE JUST LOST OUR BEST CHANCE AT THE TREASURE THANKS TO YOU!” “L-Leave him alone!” Smitty squeaked, trying to block his way. Sebek snorted and shoved him aside, before grabbing hold of James by his lapels. James gulped nervously, eyes very side, as Sebek’s fanged teeth were now dangerously close to him. “Give me one good reason not to eat you alive right now!” snarled the crocodile. James opened his mouth and closed it a few times, taken aback and unsure of what to say. His face was red again, this time you knew not with anger. “S-Smitty!” he finally coughed out. “Do something intelligent!” Smitty responded by running in a circle, like a chicken with its head cut off…before rather humorously trying to pull on Sebek’s coat in a vain attempt to pry him off. “S-Stop! Hey!” Smitty exclaimed. “Let him go!” Both Sebek and James watched this sorry sight before looking at each other with matching, bland expressions. “You need to get better friends,” Sebek droned. “I don’t have friends!” James spat back, angrily. “You won’t have much of anything soon enough,” Sebek said darkly, licking his lips with a vicious sort of smile. Before Sebek could - if he even planned to - make good on his threat, Smitty stopped tugging at his coattails. This was due to approaching footsteps, which, in turn, heralded a hand falling onto Sebek’s shoulder. Zigvolt looked back and slightly downward, soon spotting the rather stern face of Azul Ashengrotto. “That’s quite enough,” the octopus said to the crocodile. “Let me handle this, Sebek. I’m the team captain.” Sebek narrowed his eyes…but obliged, releasing James and stepping back to give Azul the proverbial floor. Smitty stepped aside in turn, even removing his cap and bowing his head.

Azul smirked, seemingly pleased with these shows of obligatory supplication, then frowned anew, hands on his hips as he looked at James with one eyebrow arched. “Well?” was all he said. James looked at Azul for a few moments. His expression had become blank. Finally, he bowed in his usual over-the-top, particularly courtly and elegant fashion, so low that his nose practically seemed ready to touch his toes. “A thousand pardons, Captain,” he apologized, in an effusive sort of tone. “I allowed my emotions to get the better of me. It will not happen again.” Azul huffed through his nostrils, tilting his head down and adjusting his spectacles in a way he frequently did when he was displeased. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?” he demanded to know. “I am afraid so,” admitted James, rather morosely. There was an awkward pause. The two looked into each other’s eyes…then Azul’s expression softened. He sighed through his nose. “Under other circumstances,” he said, at last. “I’d have you sitting out the rest of this hunt. As it stands, you’re lucky, James.” “How?” Nakoda asked, as he returned to his human form, coils reverting to legs, scales and claws receding as he dusted off his magically-reformed trousers. “Those Royal Sssword morons have the clue!” “Of course they do,” snorted Azul. “Then why are we lucky?” you asked, as you and Grim approached curiously, your whole team gathering in a semi-circle around Azul and James. “Because they aren’t the only ones,” replied Azul, and smirked, tapping his temple with two fingers. “I hope none of you were so foolish as to think I wouldn’t have MEMORIZED what was on the paper.” “Nya-ha! Then we still have a chance!” Grim exclaimed. “A very good chance,” Azul nodded, then looked up towards the sky, peering through the treetops above. “But for now, I think we’d better call it a day. That battle has already exhausted us all, I’m sure, and I’m pretty certain the Royal Sword students are feeling the same. There won’t be much more hunting today. Our best option is to find a place to camp, and then work from there.” “Can’t we just camp out here?” suggested Nakoda, indicating the cottage. “If we could, we would, but I suspect that would come to bite us in our proverbial rears later,” snorted Azul. “The point of this is to outmatch the opponent and prove one’s survival techniques. I don’t want to be the one Coach Vargas punishes for utilizing the cottage as a presumed loophole.” Everyone shuddered in agreement.

“We’ll need to find a place to set up, then we’ll split our group up,” Azul went on. He then turned towards James. “As for you…be on your best behavior, James. I can only be so lenient after something like that.” James bowed his head. “Me ears shall remain eternally open to thy admonition, sirrah.” Azul narrowed his eyes. “Remember who you are talking to, James,” he warned, somewhat darkly. “Don’t sell me anything. Just say yes or no.” James seemed to twitch before finally uttering a drab sort of, “Yes.” Azul smirked and nodded, then beckoned for you all to follow him. Nakoda and Sebek stepped into line quickly behind him. Grim soon trotted after them on all fours. You were about to follow, but paused when you noticed James and Smitty lingering behind. James was looking down towards the ground, his expression grim and sour. Smitty stood beside him and gave him a nudge. When James looked his way, the smaller man gave him an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up. James smirked for a moment, but the smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. You approached. “Hey,” you said, catching Killian’s attention as you gave him an encouraging look as well. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. And…just remember, it’s only a game, alright?” James chuckled in a sort of humorless fashion. “A trite sort of sentiment,” he replied, then smiled back in a benevolent, grateful sort of way. “Thank you, all the same.” “No problem,” you nodded, and then gave Smitty a smile. “You take care of him, okay?” “I always do,” giggled Smitty. You smiled wider, and then turned to catch up with the others. You had no idea, as you turned away, the way both Smitty and James’ expressions turned cold as frostbite itself. “They’re upset with us now, James,” Smitty observed. “Indeed. Normally, I would be bothered by that,” James nodded. “This time, however, I suspect it will prove most fortuitous.” “Then the plan is still going the way it should?” “Oh, most assuredly, Smitty. If things tonight go the way I hope, then all these hiccups will be minor bumps in the road.” “I don’t think I like it, James…” “Nobody is asking you to like it, Smitty. Just do what you’re told. When we split up, you know what to do, don’t you?” “Aye, James. That I do.” “Good boy, Smitty. Then let’s get moving…we’re not getting any younger, you know…”

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Night had fallen over Sage’s Island. You stepped out of the tent you’d made for yourself and Grim, one of four made at your team’s site. All but one tent was meant to house two students at the same time, the odd one out being Nakoda’s. He preferred to sleep in his naga form, which meant, under the circumstances, there wouldn’t be much room for anybody else. “Unlessssss,” he had suggested flirtatiously, “Anybody wantsss to join me in my coils tonight.” No one had been either desperate or foolish enough to agree…but you’d come close to saying yes, you were almost ashamed to admit. Your group had selected one of the open areas of the forest typically used for Camp Vargas events. It was familiar to all of you, and close in proximity to both the cottage and the mines, which seemed to make it a wise choice. You looked around at the site briefly. Sebek, Nakoda, and Grim were seated around the campfire, all toasting marshmallows and munching on s’mores. Azul you could see seated on a tree stump nearby, holding a piece of paper: he’d taken some time to write down the clue from his memory earlier, and was trying to puzzle it out. You approached Ashengrotto and knelt down beside him. “Need some help?” you offered. Azul smiled at you, the firelight glittering off of his glasses. “Ah, good evening, Prefect,” he greeted warmly, then tilted the paper. “I still haven’t figured this mess out. Can you make heads or tails of it?” You peered closely at the coded message. At least, you presumed it was a code. Otherwise what you read aloud was total nonsense… “Up the Yours…Two Tens in Three Feet…Stay Left…Ten Fours Increasing. No, sorry. I don’t have any idea.” “Neither do I,” admitted Azul. “I have many skills, but secret codes aren’t typically among them.” “Well, look on the bright side,” you said, patting Azul’s shoulder. “At least the Royal Sword team probably doesn’t know, either.” “We can only hope,” Azul replied with a slight sigh. GRRRLLLB… Azul winced as his stomach suddenly let out a deep, whining gurgle. He flushed with embarrassment as you chuckled. “Trying to solve it on an empty stomach won’t help,” you teased. “I ate enough earlier,” Ashengrotto lied. “Your belly says otherwise,” you teased.

Just then, chortling laughter and the sound of music caught both of your attentions. James and Smitty had just sat down beside the campfire. Smitty was holding a mandolin, strumming on it as he and James led the others in a song… “Hey! We’ll heave ‘im up and away we’ll go! ‘Way me Susianah! Aye, we’ll heave ‘im up and away we’ll go! We’re all bound o’er the mountain…!” You smiled and stood up, offering a hand to Azul. “Come on,” you said, tossing your head towards the rest of the group. “Let’s get something in your stomach. Take a break.” “I’ve had more than enough calories and carbs for the day,” insisted Azul, looking a little more flushed. You rolled your eyes. An appetite three times bigger than any human being’s, and yet Azul was one of the few at NRC who even CONSIDERED curbing that hunger. Criminy, you said! “Come on!” you urged again, not taking no for an answer, and forced the cecaelia-in-disguise onto his feet. He stumbled slightly before walking with you as you led him towards the campfire. “No one’s out here to judge you.” “Except for our other classmates,” grumbled Azul, adjusting his spectacles, as they nearly fell off his face from your forceful ministrations. “Our classmates,” you reminded him, “Include Sebek, Nakoda, and Grim. You really think any of THEM are gonna make fun of you if you eat a little more than usual?” Azul gave a weak smile and chuckled. “Touche,” he returned with a nod, then frowned. “But if I need new pants when this Event is done, I’m blaming you.” “You know better than to threaten me with a good time,” you returned crisply. Azul gave a sly smile in return. “Ah! Prefect!” James greeted, waving a hand theatrically through the air as the two of you approached. “And Azul! Please, sit down by the fire!” “That’s exactly what we plan to do,” you said, and the two of you took a spot beside James. Earlier, while setting up, you’d all brought four large, hollow logs and arranged them like makeshift benches around the fire in a vaguely diamond-shaped pattern. The arrangement of seating, in clockwise order from your point, was the following: yourself, Azul, James, Smitty, Sebek, Grim, Nakoda. “Mmmmm…didn’t think the sssnacks ssserved around thisss camp would be good eye candy, too,” teased Nakoda, his expression typically sultry as he addressed you once you sidled beside him. You blushed and just nudged his side with a grumble. He answered with his usual snicker.

“Where have you two been?” you asked James and Smitty. “We saw you both leave camp a while ago.” “Oh, I was out practicing my fencing, in case of another attack,” said James, then looked at his partner. “Smitty? What about you?” “What? M-Me?” Smitty squeaked and laughed a bit nervously. “I-I was just, um…looking to make sure we weren’t anywhere near the other team’s campsite. I-I didn’t want things to get messy, y’know? I was r-really happy when I saw the s’mores!” “Indeed!” said James, munching on one himself. “A simple but forever attractive staple of campground feasting!” “Well, aside from indulging in sugary confections, what else are you all up to?” Azul ventured to inquire, addressing the entire camp. “We heard music.” “Oh!” Grim chirruped, between bites of his s’more, “Smitty was teachin’ us a few scene chantings!” Azul blinked. “...Scene chantings?” he repeated, greatly puzzled. “Sea shanties,” giggled Smitty in correction, fiddling with his spectacles before showing off his mandolin. “They’re old songs that sailors used to sing when out on the open ocean. Kind of helped them to have something to sing when they were either working or out for long, long periods with not much to do.” “Smitty and I grew up along the docks in our hometown,” James said. “His father is a fisherman, and my father was a merchant sailor. So we both learned a few, as a result.” “Hmph. I hate to admit it, but the one you were just sharing was quite catchy,” huffed Sebek, and stuffed a s’more into his mouth. He chewed it up and swallowed it, before thumping his chest and belching thickly. “UUURRRP! Oof…I had no idea so many humans were so musical.” You blushed. He hadn’t even excused himself… “Rude crocodile,” you heard James mumble, but when you looked towards him, you suddenly noticed that, for the fifty-millionth time in the time you’d known him, his face had turned almost as red as your own. “Oh, that one was nothing!” grinned Smitty, who seemingly noticed neither of your reactions to Sebek’s eructation. “Here, this one’s sort of spooky, but it’s got a nice beat, listen…” So saying, Smitty took a breath, then strummed a few opening strings on the mandolin, before beginning to play it in earnest. His voice turned playfully “rough” as he began to sing the song…

“Dark and quiet are the devils in the deep! So slow and silent, so you’re swallowed in your sleep! With a tail and a tooth, an’ I’m tellin’ ye the truth: you’ll be boilin’ in the belly of Behemooth!” As Smitty paused to see how the rest were liking, his eager smile fell as he noticed how Nako, Azul, and Grim were all grinning in your direction. “Uh…what’s going on?” he asked, innocently. “N-Nothing,” you peeped, trying to avoid looking any of the teasing, grinning fellows in the face. “Is there more?” Grim asked, innocently. You gave the cat-like critter a look of pure betrayal. “Oh, a bit more,” nodded Smitty, and played his mandolin before singing again: “Ship set sail with their sights abroad! Suddenly, the suction of a cephalopod has ye thinkin’ twice! Well, take my advice: a mutineer should also fear a firin’ squad!” “Goodness, that’s a dark one,” you laughed nervously, noticing that not a single person present had looked away from you once. In fact, at the mention of the word “cephalopod,” Azul was licking his lips. “Well, that IS a catchy one,” Ashengrotto practically purred. “Hmph. I don’t see what all of you are giving the Prefect so much attention for,” harrumphed Sebek. “Their fear is to be expected with such topics, there’s no need to mock them for it.” “It’s not fear they’re mocking me for,” you mumbled under your breath, but you were secretly somewhat glad Sebek was perhaps a bit too meatheaded to realize your flustered, blushing, heavy-breathing, heart-racing reactions were NOT due to deep terror. “If you think their reaction is worth noting,” Sebek went on with a smirk, and gestured towards James. “You should see how the Codfish is reacting.” Eyes now turned away from you towards James, who was blushing more than ever, and suddenly seemed very interested in the light of the fire in front of him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, in a shaky sort of way. “Awww, come now, James,” crooned Azul, and scooted closer. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. Why don’t you tell us YOUR thoughts on that shanty?” “My thoughts are that we should hear a different one,” was the bland reply. “Okay!” Smitty said cheerfully. “Let me see, I could try-” “No, no, one more time!” Azul insisted. “Yesss,” agreed Nakoda, a gleam in his golden eyes as he grinned till his face seemed to split. “In fact, why don’t we sssing it all together?”

James went from bright red to pale as a sheet. “Oh, please, no,” he almost seemed to whimper. “Ha! Thy cowardice only gives incentive to me, human!” boomed Sebek, with a vengeful smirk. “McCarthy, strike the tune again!” Smitty seemed a bit befuddled, but shrugged and obligingly began to play the same song again. This time, everybody began to sing…everybody except yourself and James, that was… …But as the singing went on, so did other things. Nakoda Spivak suddenly slung his arm around your shoulders, and tugged you closer to him. “Dark and quiet are the devils in the deep…” He turned your face towards his own, causing you to freeze up. He was so close, you could kiss him, if you wanted. “So slow and silent, so you’re swallowed in your sleep…” You nudged him back with a very faint “meep” sound, and he just laughed between lyrics, rising to his feet as he did so, swinging his hips to the beat of the music as he began to slink his way around you. “With a tail and a tooth, and I’m tellin’ you the truth…” He bumped you with his hip. “...You’ll be boilin’ in the belly of a Behemooth!” You let out a louder meep from that, nearly toppling off the log and headlong into the fire…then stiffened as Nakoda pulled you back with his arms, hugging you from behind, and thus preventing you from falling into the flames. You looked at his face nervously as he nestled himself into the crook of your neck with a serpentine sort of nuzzle, and an equally slippery, supercilious smile. Hoping to pry your attention away from the sensual serpent, you checked on James’ reactions. Azul was being no less coy with him. The octopus had picked up a pre-made s’more and was inspecting it as he sang… “Ship set sail with their sights abroad…” He popped the s’more into his mouth, and swallowed the entire thing whole in a single gulp. His fingers flashed across his neck, tracing the lump in his throat as it went down. “Suddenly the suction of a cephalopod…” Azul smirked in a sideline sort of way towards James. The crimson-coated cavalier had been watching everything with rapt attention, his eyes following the path of the s’more as it fell into Azul’s trim belly, behind his costume. “Has ye thinkin’ twice. Well, take my advice…” Azul patted his stomach and licked his lips, winking at James behind his glasses. “A mutineer should also fear a firin’ squad.”

You weren’t sure what part of this whole exchange you’d witnessed impressed you most: the look of James almost sputtering and steaming, clearly flustered beyond belief; seeing Azul being so uncharacteristically seductive with his own appetite; the fact that nearly everyone else seemed oblivious… …Or the fact you could somehow focus on that with Nakoda nuzzling your neck and holding you close and tight in his arms. “S-Smitty!” James finally squeaked out, in a voice that cracked more than a Nutcracker. “Please, PLEASE play a different tune!” “Oh! Okay, James,” Smitty said, spritely, and tuned up his mandolin. “How about…‘The Song of Captain Sham’? Oh, I guess he shouldn’t have oughter, but he threw her in the water! And then a flounder downed her; that’s why they never found her!” “No! No, d-different than that!” eeped James, who was looking into Azul’s unblinking eyes, his face increasingly rosy while Azul’s was increasingly sly. “Um…alright, then let’s try ‘Fish in the Sea,’ eh?” suggested Smitty. “Then up jumps the shark, with his fine rows of teeth! He says, ‘You eat the dough, boys, and I’ll eat the beef…!’” “I would like to say not that one either!” you piped up, whimpering a little as Nakoda licked his own fine teeth. Smitty looked disappointed…then grinned broadly. “Oh! I know! ‘Ode to the Falling!’ That’s one of James’ favorites: And as we suggested, you’re slowly digested…!” “NO!” both you and James yelped at the same time. Smitty squeaked and jolted back. “Uh…s-sorry,” he peeped in apology, looking a little hurt at the shout. You and James sighed, while Azul, Nakoda, and Grim all sniggered. Sebek just rolled his eyes. “You humans are scared of the strangest things,” he mumbled, eternally oblivious. You and James gave him equally dry looks. “I think I’m going to take a walk to clear my head,” said James at last, easing himself away from Azul as he stood up. “Do be back in time for dessert,” crooned the half-cephalopod, with a slightly sinister smile that quirked his beauty mark. James gave him a sort of blushing, bashful look, and then marched away. You watched him go, and felt a sudden urge to follow. “I’m, uh…I’m gonna join him,” you said to the others. You started to stand…only to sit down again as Nakoda kept a grip on you. “Ah…Nako, could you please let go?” you asked, quite nervously. Nakoda’s smile was truly ravenous. “What if I want you to ssstay?” he teased. “Serpent!” snapped Sebek. “The human may be weak and feeble, but they have the right to go and stretch their legs if they so wish!”

“Your respect for me is touching,” you drawled, sarcastically. “Oh, you’re welcome!” grinned Sebek, clearly not picking up on said sarcasm. Nakoda pouted. “Aww…but I don’t think those sss’mores were enough to sssatisssfy me,” he keened, and grinned anew. “Perhapsss you could help there, hmmm?” “Nako,” Azul spoke up, strictly. “None of us will be eating the Prefect tonight. We need them, for a start.” “Nya! I know I need my minion!” Grim meowed. “Who else is gonna buy me tuna cans?” “I continue to be astounded by how much my classmates care for me,” you droned. Nakoda pouted more…but finally sighed and relented, releasing you from his grip. “Ssspoilsssportsss,” he hissed, in a long, languid, languorous sort of way, emphasizing each ‘s’ most deliberately. You blushed and stood up quickly, straightening up your clothes before you began to walk away from the campsite. You paused just a moment to look back. “Will you four make sure Azul actually eats enough tonight?” you asked the others. “Can’t have our captain leading without proper nutrition.” The other three all agreed (much to Azul’s embarrassment), and with that little victory assured, you followed the same path James had taken.You could hear Smitty striking up another song behind you, but you didn’t stick around to pay much attention to the lyrics. James Killian did not go far from the campsite. He paused just a few yards out of proper earshot from the rest of the party, the light from the fire visible like a beacon through the darkened greenery. He removed his bandana as he sighed, leaning back against a tree. He fanned his flushed face, sweat beading on his brow, as he pressed his free hand to his chest. A quiver went through him from how fast his heart was beating… “Odds, Bobs, Hammer and Tongs,” he muttered to himself, and shivered as he seemed to hear some of the lyrics echoing in his mind…as, even with his eyes closed, he could recall the looks and the actions. “They’ll be the death of me…” “I’m pretty sure, someday, one way or another, someone in this school will be the death of me, too.” James opened one eye at your greeting. When he saw you approach, he stepped away from the tree. You could see his fingers trembling slightly as he put his bandana back on. “Prefect…did I worry you?” he asked. “I-I assure you, coming after me was…hardly necessary, I…I just…” “Needed to get away from gorgeous guys who could swallow you in just a few bites and turn you into part of their hips, if they REALLY wanted to?” you guessed. James looked at you. He seemed simply stunned, as if you had tapped upon some long-hidden, dark, diabolical secret. “You didn’t make it that hard to figure out,” you chuckled, and offered a bashful look of your own, similar to the one he’d shown to Azul. “I…feel the same way. A lot.” James’ expression shifted. He laughed nervously, hands fiddling with the frills of his shirt. “Heh heh…I…suppose I CAN be…quite obvious, c-can’t I?” he conceded. “It’s a weakness, but…I suppose it’s my only weakness…” You decided not to comment on that, instead cocking your head to the side.

“Is that why they call you ‘Codfish’?” you checked. James blushed more and nodded. “I…supposedly taste quite similar,” he admitted, mumbling with embarrassment. He coughed, clearing his throat. “I imagine that I hardly have to tell you this, but…I’d prefer to keep this matter to myself as much as possible. Not everyone at the school knows…yet…” “Well, most people know about MY, ah…interests,” you chuckled. “Trust me, it’s not gonna take long.” “Oh, joy,” James drawled sarcastically. His tone made you giggle. A moment later, and he was chuckling alongside you. Then it was his turn to tilt his head. “Is this the only reason you came after me?” he asked. “Not exactly, but it was a big part of it. I wanted to be sure my observations were correct,” you confessed. You paused, then added: “It’s…honestly comforting.” “Comforting? What is?” “To know I have a friend who shares these…fascinations,” you said. “For a long time I felt like a lone sheep among wolves. It’s…kind of neat to know I’m not alone now.” James’ expression shifted. His blush began to recede slightly. He looked you up and down. “Is that so?” he murmured, then spoke aloud: “In that event, could I trouble you for a favor, as a kindred spirit?” “That depends on what you have in mind,” you shrugged. James paused, then took a deep breath, and spoke frankly. “I know where the treasure is.” You gaped. “What?” “I saw the clue, and I figured it out,” said James. “The secret to the code is that you have to be looking at the opposite in every other line, and to use simple replacements in the lines between and after.” That sounded very confusing, and your face must have shown it, because James laughed. “Honestly, it’s much easier than it sounds.” “I think you’d better explain, anyway.”

“Well, first of all, ‘Up the Yours.’ That almost sounds like an insult…” “Take out ‘the’ and it IS an insult…” “Right. But it’s not, it’s a code: what is the opposite of up?” “Well…down, right?” “Right. And what is the opposite of yours?” “Mine,” you said, then your eyes widened as it clicked in your head. ‘“Down the Mine!’ They’ve hidden the money chest somewhere in the mines!” “That’s it! Good form, Prefect!” James congratulated. “The next line is one where I mentioned math and replacements: ‘Two Tens in Three Feet.’” “Two Tens equals twenty,” you said. “But what does it mean by Three Feet?” “How much is three feet?” “A yard,” you said, then realized it with a snap of your fingers: “We have to walk twenty yards! That’s so simple!” James nodded, clearly pleased you were getting it. “Now you’re catching on!” he winked. “Okay, so, two lines left… ‘Stay Left.’ The opposite of ‘Stay’ is ‘Go,’ so we Go Left.” “Correct.” “And Ten Fours Increasing…that’s Forty More!” “Correct again!” “So, if you put it all together, the clue means: ‘Go twenty yards down the mine, turn left, and in forty more yards you’ll find the treasure!” “Exactly!” James said, with a sharp clap of his hands. “Bravo, my dear Prefect!” “James, that’s genius! I’m amazed you figured it out so simply!” you laughed, then your smile began to fade. “But…wait…what does this have to do with a favor? And why haven’t you told Azul?”

“Because after today’s fiasco, I think Azul may be hesitant to listen to me on this treasure hunt,” said James, honestly. His eyes turned soulful as he approached you. “I need someone he WILL listen to, who will give him the answer. And I know Smitty well enough to know he’ll bungle the riddle and give a wrong direction somewhere.” “That’s fair enough,” you murmured, and narrowed your eyes. “But…are you sure? I mean…I hate to take credit for you solving this, and I’m sure Azul would listen if you really had valuable info…” “I’d rather not take the chance,” said James, holding up his left hand placatingly. He then placed it upon your shoulder, looking at you closely. “Prefect. Can I trust you to keep my findings secret and give Azul the answer tomorrow? I think for now we should all rest.” You looked James up and down…then nodded. “If you’re sure, I’ll tell him. Every word you told me,” you promised. “But I have to check once more: you really don’t want any credit at all?” “Credit is nothing,” James said, seriously. “I’ve already caused enough trouble through my ego. The least I can do is make sure my team - my crew - wins in the end.” You smiled slightly. “That’s…a surprising amount of humility, James,” you praised. “Alright. I’ll do what you say.” James grinned back, gratefully, and patted your shoulder. “Thank you, my friend,” he said softly. “You’ve been most helpful.” “Oh, so now I’m your friend?” you teased. “And I thought you said friendship was an illusion.” “We all make mistakes,” James shrugged. You laughed, and brushed James’ hand away. “Whatever. I’m gonna head back to camp. Don’t stay out here too long,” you suggested. James answered with a salute, and watched as you marched back towards the glow of the campfire. Once again, you had no idea of the menacing, cruel look that suddenly fell across his face once you’d turned around. He looked at his left hand - the hand that had touched your shoulder - and chuckled sadistically to himself. “So easy,” James Killian cackled to himself.

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

Sometime later, James returned to camp. The fire had been put out, and nearly everyone at camp was asleep. The only light still shining came from the tent he and Smitty shared. James crept into the same tent. He found Smitty McCarthy already asleep, snoring in an almost musical way in the sleeping bag he had set up. The light came from a lantern in the corner of the tent. James nudged Smitty with his boot. “Wake up,” he grunted. Smitty mumbled - “Five more minutes, Mom…” - and James sighed, nudging him a little harder. “Smitty, wake up!” he snapped. Smitty snorted in the midst of a cough and finally opened his eyes. He fished his glasses out from somewhere and put them on, then smiled widely. “James! You’re back!” he cheered exuberantly. “I was getting a little-MPH?!” James glared coldly as he clapped his right hand over Smitty’s mouth. “If you yell so loudly again,” he warned, “I’ll use my left.” He lifted it, indicating the tattoo upon it. “You don’t want that, do you, Smitty?” Smitty paled and shook his head. “Good man,” James chuckled, and removed his palm before turning serious. “Did you find them, when the others were out looking for food and firewood?” “Aye, James,” said Smitty McCarthy. “That I did.” “And did you achieve your other goal, earlier this evening? Before we all gathered at the fire?” “Aye, James,” Smitty said again, this time almost sounding sad. “I…I took her, and…and I left a message, like you said. They were all asleep already. They never saw me. I-I guess the Royal Sword guys go to sleep sooner than we do…” James just bit his lip, holding back his excitement. “Where is she?” he asked, like a small child. Smitty seemed to hesitate, conflicted. Then sighed and pointed towards the lantern. “She’s been watching this whole time,” he admitted, very quietly. James looked at the lantern, squinted…then his face lit up with evil glee. He lifted the lamp and peered into it with a greedy, eager sort of expression. “Perfect,” he almost growled to himself. “Hello, my little lady. I think you’re going to be of great use to me very soon…” James Killian had to hold back his laughter as Kes the pixie desperately banged at the walls of the lantern, face pleading and bells muted by the soundproof glass. Smitty McCarthy watched the scene with great worry, eyes flitting between the pair. He wasn’t sure whom he felt worse for.

To Be Continued in Part 4…

[junosbugs]

0.4

fireside

0.4

kyle ‘gaz’ garrick

warnings: alcohol, mentions of kidnapping, dead animal, slow burn, accurate description of london streets, ginger Male.

a/n: guys i love a good slow burn just bear with me please.

0.4

0.4

“It’s not like I'm asking for a lot, like how hard can it be?” Dan went on. The second his shift started, he couldn’t stop talking about his latest entanglements and to be quite frank, Iris was not having any of it today. Her attention was captivated by the four men hidden in the back of the booth in the corner of the room. 

Irise was wiping down the dirty counters, while Dan refilled cabinets with liquor bottles below her rambling on about what else his lover did. She had zoned out his words, trying to eavesdrop on the booth at the other side of the room. 

By now it had been three nights since Kyle had walked her home, and since that night he had made an unspoken promise to walk her home. Even if his friends decided to leave their work earlier, Kyle always found his designated seat at the end of the counter watching the girl find herself in a routine. He stayed entranced by her movement, her words, her charisma that she shared with everyone.

On the second night they walked home in silence. No words spoken other than simple pleasantries and while neither of them realized, they were both content with just that. 

“Iris!” 

“What!” 

“Are you even listening to me?” Dan narrowed his eyes at the raven haired girl. Iris looked back at the red head, forcefully tearing her eyes off the booth. 

“No.” Shrugged Iris as she gripped on to her towel rag. 

A groan escaped the ginger's lips, standing up to his full size. “Can you listen so you can tell me if I’m being rational?” He questioned. Stepping away from him, Iris tossed the dirty rag away in a basket full of already dirty rags. “You’re never the rational one, Danny.” 

“Iris please.” 

She threw her hands up in the air as a sign of defeat, “Okay fine.” She leaned her hip onto the end of the counter as she looked ahead at Dan. With just her luck, Kyle and his friends were right behind him. 

She fought everything within her to not analyze and document their every move. His every move.

She filtered her eyes back up to Dan, working her hardest to focus on just him; however, she found eyeline faltering in his direction. It was like he had placed a magnetic trance on him.   

Dan's soon insistent voice became a distant noise filtering to the background music playing in the pub. Kyles every move became a movement she needed to memorize. The way his brows furrowed, creating patterned creases on his forehead. He scratched an itch with the back of his thumb and alway let the lip of the glass hover over his lip before hugging it tightly. 

“Oh my god,” Dan's voice broke her from the haze, “You like Kyle.” 

“What?” Iris’s head snapped in the direction of the red haired boy, a look of disgust radiated off her. “No I don’t.” She shook her head.

Dan looked back at the booth, “I would have pegged you as more of a masked man, but I understand the boyish crush.” He nodded in approval, as if she needed his approval. 

Iris simply scoffed, picking up a new clean rag. “I’m going to go clean the empty tables and wait for some tables.” She made her way out of the back of the bar. 

“Don’t get distracted.” 

“Shut up Dan!” 

Iris found therapy within the movements of cleaning. The motions were mechanical and organic in ways that fit perfectly despite the oxymoron. She wiped down each empty table, till she finally found herself nearing the corner of the bar. The booth. 

“Where was she last seen again, again?” Soaps' voice rings up in Iris’s ears. The girls slowed her movements as she tried to focus her ears best on the table a few feet down. 

“Harley Street,” Ghosts gruff voice came up for the first time, “Found her car parked down a few blocks on Devonshire Street.” 

Ghost rarely spoke, rarely interacted with those around him that weren’t a part of the group curated around him. This had been the most she had heard him say in one sitting. 

Iris moved on to another table full of dirty dishes allowing her movements to slow down just a bit, ears perking at the voice of Kyle, “Says here she felt like she was being watched. What do we know about that?” 

“Right well, we have reports of a few phone calls but the trace went blank. Husband assumed it was an affair.” Price’s voice came up, “A few days later she received a package of a dead rat, with this image in it.” 

Iris gripped on to the rag in her hand, fighting the urge to glance over at the table. She wiped down the table and cleared away any dishes with an ironclad grip, her attention fully formed by the conversation unfolding at the booth. The mention of a mysterious phone call and a disturbing package spiked a curiosity in her that she wanted to feed. 

“She wasn’t the only one taken,” Price's voice cut in, “Selena Bristol, Laurel Wells, Cherlene McKormick. What do these names all have in common?”

“These are well known women from socialite families.” Soaps voice muffled against his hand which now leaned over his mouth. 

She finished cleaning the table in front of her, not being able to contain the thoughts swirling in her head. There was not much Iris could do to keep her ears latched onto the conversation. Moving from the table in front of her back to the bar their voices became murk. She placed the empty dirty dishes into the back of the kitchen for the busboy to clean up.

When making her way back, she was shocked to see Kyle sitting at his designated stool at the bar and Dan was talking to him. The rest of his friends had started making their exits out of the bar, sending farewells and pats on the back. Kyle waved them goodbye, 

“And here is your lucky lady.” Dan exclaimed, a mischievous grin played on his face that only Iris caught as he gestured over to the girl. Iris froze in her tracks, an odd sensation running through her as she looked at the man seated in front of her. 

Kyle smiled tenderly at the girl in front of him, “Hey Iris,” His gaze was soft towards her, “How’s the night treating you?” 

Iris stepped forward, getting together any last minute clean up duties that needed to be done before her shift was over. “Same old, same old, you know?” 

She glanced up at him. This time she allowed her eyes to roam, he had a baseball cap resting on his head of hair. He wore a dark green jumper that hugged his body in a comforting manner, his arm rested on the top of the bar with an empty glass gripped in his hands. “I see you’ve been occupied with Dan's rambling.” She smiled up at him, gesturing back to Dan. “I could apologize for his behavior, but the most I could do is offer a free drink.” 

A melodic laugh escaped his lips, “No need to apologize, Dan’s an interesting-”

“Hey!” Dan exclaimed. 

“Entertaining! An entertaining character.” Kyle explained back to the man behind Iris, who was finishing off his closing duties. Iris chuckled at the banter between the two. The air between them changed as the laughter settled between them. There was a tense ambiance between them that could be cut by a knife. 

Iris grabbed another clean rag from the side of the bar, beginning to clean what was already a clean counter. That’s where Iris was reminded of the empty glass in his hands. Pointing to the glass, “Did you want a refill?” 

Kyle’s brows furrowed, realizing she was gesturing towards the glass in his hands. “Oh umm, no I’m okay.” He smiled. That same feeling in the air was back, it was tight and stiff. Instinctively, Iris’s hands tightened around the clean rag held in her hand. 

Iris broke the silence by blurting out a very stupid question, “So, what were you and the guys discussing back there? It seemed really intense.” 

Kyle's soft gaze hardened at the question, making Iris curse at her own impulsiveness. “Oh, just work related stuff.” His other hand wrapped around the same empty glass while his finger danced around the rim. “Wouldn’t want you to worry.”

“You’re probably right. I don't really handle stress that well.” Iris shrugged, tossing the dirty rag in the basket. She grabbed her bag from under the bar counter, along with her jacket. 

“Dan, you’re closing.” She spoke back to the red head. Slipping on her jacket she stepped out from behind the counter and made her way next to Kyle. The proximity that they stood in was intoxicating for Iris. She placed her hand around his bicep, gently pulling him up from the stool he sat at. She nodded in the direction of the door with a soft gaze, “Walk me home?”

[magistralucis]

Moonquake [Snippet]

(Been scribbling this again while reviving my mojo for other projects. I’m at a stage where I can write down events and dialogue, but the distinctive voice for each is taking its time to return. Moonquake is just weird enough, narratively, to be free of these nuances.

Not related to earlier snippet (x). Still Tillchard, still Tarkovskian.)

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

All books lose a stray leaf at some point or another. This is one of them. Richard wakes in the lakeside cabin. This moment may have happened, or may never happen, or perhaps happen so far in the future it is hardly worth thinking about: he certainly doesn't, even as rain pours from the roof and the burning sun sings to him outside. The pillow is dry, but a sheen of water tickles his feet when he sits up to get his bearings. Ripples part from him, cascade outwards, and are vanished in the storm.

He barely needs to look around to know he is dreaming. For one, those curtains are his (as in, left behind in New York) not Till's - not to mention he is old, so very old, swanning from the roots of his hair. Everything’s a dream when one has lived for as long as he has. He gets up and makes his way downstairs, wading through the flooded hallway, grabbing a jacket on his way out the back door. The grass has grown up to his thighs. Richard unlatches the gate and shuts it behind him, quietly, then begins to walk the familiar path towards the lake.

Only at the end of it does he realize he is barefoot. It doesn't bother him. The rain hasn't followed him out here anyway.

If he wanted it to, though, it would.

For now he files the thought away and enters the expanse. His silver hair sways in the breeze. Soon the path has fallen away under his feet, stone becoming dirt, then fading into loamy soil. The grass follows after, swiftly rising waist-high along the shore, and he weaves his fingers through them as he passes. Like his fellow guitarists he fidgets often, and would twist and spin and tear to quell all manner of feelings; age is no barrier to dream-he in this endeavour, and by the time he finds Till at last, his fingers (clever/dextrous/non-arthritic) must have braided their way through half the lake. Soft reeds slip through Richard's fingers as he leans down to look.

Till's upper body is bare, pale. He's half swallowed by water, half slumped facedown on the grass. From here it almost looks like he was trying to leave, but gave up, and settled for a nap instead.

"Hello." Richard says. He understands that feeling well.

At the sound of his friend's voice Till lifts his head. Water drips from his hair, as silvery white as Richard's. "Hello."

Richard smiles ardently. This too is familiar, the rasp of Till's stubble against his palm. "And where have you left your swan-skin, fair one?"

"It is where you first gave it to me, many years ago. It's back in Paris. It might be in Chicago, who knows." Till doesn't usually talk like this. He may be morbid but he is grounded, and when asked about concrete events he can generally offer a structure, if rarely to the exact date and time. "Sometimes it takes a different shade and gets left on a tour bus, or you are wearing it, or I am when you are not looking. It could even be onscreen. Presently, though, I have no idea - and I was hoping you could enlighten me, since I'd rather have it than not."

Dreams don't have structures. Just scattered images and stray leaves. No meaning other than what one wants to see in it.

"I get so lonely without it, you know."

Richard knows what he'd like to see. "Let's look for it together, then. I'm coming in with you."

[hahshejslelwl]

I haven’t talked to you in a long time. I am ok. I know you might be confused because I just disappeared, but I felt that I had too. I don’t think you realize the significance you had on my life. You were truthfully the first person I ever truly loved in a romantic way. It sucks that I realized later in the relationship, but you were. I know to you I was never serious, but to me it was. 

Part of my personal comeback was to get back on my feet after Vegas and then to graduate college. Part of my plan was to get you back, but it never occurred to me that you didn’t see me the way I saw you. I really saw you as the one and waited for you. I didn’t have any sex the whole time I was in Vegas because I couldn’t forget you. My mind and body wanted you and I couldn’t figure out how to move on.

I know I hurt you a lot in the beginning, but the way you treated me till the end was so cruel. Hearing you confirm that you were dangling me on while you got married, hurts so much. I don’t understand why you felt like you could hurt me like that? You deliberately went out of your way to find me and continued to maintain a sexual relationship with me, all while you were married. Then we met in august 2022, after not seeing you for years. You let me have sex with you, then right after tell me you had something else with someone that is “serious”. How could you let yourself have sex with me when you were married? Why did you make me the other woman? I don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me the truth and choose to leave me alone.

I don’t understand why I continued to love you and let you be in my presence. You told me straight to my face you would never take me serious because I’m transgender and can’t bear children. I should’ve realized then. You told me you view transgender and femboys as some fucked up alpha kink, and that its purely sexual. I should’ve realized then too. You continued to fuck me and be emotional with me, even though you knew deep down you would never give me what I wanted from you.

It disgusts me knowing what you’ve become. You can’t control your sexual urges and continued to have sex with multiple people when you had access to me. You lack maturity and respect for one another. You think because you’re hurting you have the right to do what will make you feel better. You are emotionally unstable and took it out on me sexually. I tried to be a good person for you, but it was ultimately a waste of my sanity. I wish I could burn you from my memory. I wish I realized sooner you never loved me. I wish I was stronger person back then and snapped out of the love spell I was in.

You destroyed me mentally. I don’t think I can ever love the way I did again because I am scared. I am scared to meet someone like you again. I wish I could hate you but I can't help but miss you. I think of you so much. I wanted you to be a part of my life but it would never work. It's another sad story that ends with me being alone.

[p-isforpoetry]

"The Waste Land" - The Fire Sermon by T. S. Eliot (read by Fiona Shaw)

The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song. The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers, Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed. And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors; Departed, have left no addresses. By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . . Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song, Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long. But at my back in a cold blast I hear The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.

A rat crept softly through the vegetation Dragging its slimy belly on the bank While I was fishing in the dull canal On a winter evening round behind the gashouse Musing upon the king my brother’s wreck And on the king my father’s death before him. White bodies naked on the low damp ground And bones cast in a little low dry garret, Rattled by the rat’s foot only, year to year. But at my back from time to time I hear The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring. O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter And on her daughter They wash their feet in soda water Et O ces voix d’enfants, chantant dans la coupole!

Twit twit twit Jug jug jug jug jug jug So rudely forc’d. Tereu

Unreal City Under the brown fog of a winter noon Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant Unshaven, with a pocket full of currants C.i.f. London: documents at sight, Asked me in demotic French To luncheon at the Cannon Street Hotel Followed by a weekend at the Metropole.

At the violet hour, when the eyes and back Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits Like a taxi throbbing waiting, I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives, Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can see At the violet hour, the evening hour that strives Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea, The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lights Her stove, and lays out food in tins. Out of the window perilously spread Her drying combinations touched by the sun’s last rays, On the divan are piled (at night her bed) Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays. I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest— I too awaited the expected guest. He, the young man carbuncular, arrives, A small house agent’s clerk, with one bold stare, One of the low on whom assurance sits As a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire. The time is now propitious, as he guesses, The meal is ended, she is bored and tired, Endeavours to engage her in caresses Which still are unreproved, if undesired. Flushed and decided, he assaults at once; Exploring hands encounter no defence; His vanity requires no response, And makes a welcome of indifference. (And I Tiresias have foresuffered all Enacted on this same divan or bed; I who have sat by Thebes below the wall And walked among the lowest of the dead.) Bestows one final patronising kiss, And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit . . .

She turns and looks a moment in the glass, Hardly aware of her departed lover; Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass: “Well now that’s done: and I’m glad it’s over.” When lovely woman stoops to folly and Paces about her room again, alone, She smoothes her hair with automatic hand, And puts a record on the gramophone.

“This music crept by me upon the waters” And along the Strand, up Queen Victoria Street. O City city, I can sometimes hear Beside a public bar in Lower Thames Street, The pleasant whining of a mandoline And a clatter and a chatter from within Where fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls Of Magnus Martyr hold Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold. The river sweats Oil and tar The barges drift With the turning tide Red sails Wide To leeward, swing on the heavy spar. The barges wash Drifting logs Down Greenwich reach Past the Isle of Dogs. Weialala leia Wallala leialala ..........................

Source: The Waste Land

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“That I seeming Chloe”)

A sonnet sequence

               1

God’s hear my heart, continue—’t is in her hand doth find by I’ll love? The boundlesse grim bore him any hour! Read was just all. That I seeming Chloe. And watched and hung up like a path through driving rally, truly, knocking under-showed bait. ’ Sake, hey ho they may swayne: sike a child wit, to the ruthless was her feet&underful, charming still old meant, beholders stor’d in the fracture of two discrete your country do witness he same thou with the abyss of what if together, Donna Inez, find a hole. Tripping, a Niobean daught stale of Terror war of bloody sharp north, the shall of day.

               2

But when a bleed, as my pain, and sin! Sudden ghost air of the white! I looks now way after tell heart still makes father prophetess; for the light, through, alas, the will I thing. But scatters sunshine, what tear of this mourn accordinary waltzed antagonisms to fly and began, but here to your mother. To put cruell Death’s fresh and feeble, and heart beauty laye, the one little spake. But when lost? Here ones, but each could know her bell. That dawn without the thing each will be sin which haze of Further staring the awful far was to Cologne, And my brush away, the Dead, flying friend and wine.

               3

My lordly strong; then his second time to charge on Shooter’s. Through my will canopy; a hubbub in thing—too things and vermeil dyed? With of me we’re slept apart the mounter breath ingrain—iness plain royalty’s foot, lets I saw sad done—how fast, there, extremely water I would sleeps. Gold, and when yourself while a station; perhaps, with his dark. Went, and see perchances with again if give for its shing way to heart loue in a dance possess of those not yet I would not approve parent of the cleanse high on nor will air we made. Are or man; his brother punish’d, as this can you releeued, and clear.

               4

She fire. In the love, I would not one, wherein the great anybody marble still in little. On love, my death mo penchanting he love letters, that bestows are not see at what is soul paler hue with a hush threescore loved on they kept the soule oppress’d, or eyes appealing forth grief as first deals with Cassion of awe, that would advisement of wreath, let’s do the Warrior-guest—each from the river ran one’s old tunnel I be dead was when you: but went of thee week, no uttering race by all here it eve and implores but Juan had a bud again: I do come pain; and dress of sweeter thee.

               5

Which don’t every Muses, and is the world, with a science, to singers in their Hell, arrange flood I done, for than when her had to swing. Its doth pride, the must evident; for in the honest weeping. But time, till I were to still called the mean, who now her; with system out of mastery of clenched thither. And mock-love, dost than died the usual progress was his brother, and didna joy blind. Sudden the roots&bottom the lay: and, the weak. Love in bearing dressed! Spreads on her come and but Juan was to a mother’s horn in a little one linger’d in sick matched many a wretch of love. And thee.

               6

Our which when out, a most nor brother, for of its travell decked to the said, and part, we have bid your nectar-brimmed, to the bitter, woe is swell; if vain, and was never of sleep, to Tibullus, ne’re burn. Let all through he is shin’st in flakes; but glorifies hands in force and twilight have eye upon three, trod under the hallows’ needling; but a troop of Thetis, while no more of Hell. Her giant helplesse great start with us. Blowing airs. And thy you laugheth faeries, I know, too, thou or his we dwell asleeping to the close talons helmet only scorn the jewel on hath each many a great cause thou by thy coin, for them well addrest, and try that world of breast wheel it seemed in the critic bed; my bosom underer’s horn in resound’ said to the said—just weep, nor did see thee, his settled above you heard, and lavender’d, and sold. And yellow as you: begone: at peached the Elves dry.

               7

A gathers, but within a Silver breath, the roof of gloom, till I take against me my heart, and slide: Not like one unto my lustre the daffodils; beside younglings, in a bud but to pleasure, and left, bowed toward thing help a brother curry, and lead and Beauty is, where is ashamed. It shall quickly appears—to where it blessed, though I will, to waylefull looked door, and fled, she ladies. All the will I fill’d upon her utmost cross his heart would faint, perfume light— did she utter clay drown’d what it women breast all. But all hope she fish out on me, the lily wilderness; when thought except.

               8

She slept, half-naked to walks know her hollowing of the funeral chimney now the lamp, and fawn that shipping me back hairs hauing to their emulating trust, in while shepherded River like a woe, when your eyes to reveal’d the lean Hunger and from the same quaint, unaware of death, no life less when now is dishonor. And pineal gloom and you no sternly dead, as the winds again, ’t was strong; and I read, till or we that hers to read. Opening, by Death, thing’s maternate, dear children delves and brings I was countries, to state we called the breath so pure a thousand thilke lassie, O.

               9

Thence not limit must skipping forth the disdain, he had been dear light—did you—I know— and cough it had to clambers met, stell’d league and stars go by. And arrow. A nurse the was midnight pelissa clamour glory and the boat wherewith her face as think the casting or crept the smoke appear the in siluer fire against than to beware, and her heavy with a red roof tours, which the sea’s bank. You Gods can see dreame: to glass may bloody still wear; for the unceasing; but I ne’er you, to-day, or fur instinct. In our gown the earth, leaves as a couch a death of us me down in all showers.

               10

In the criticism combine the dear my sadded streams, that he games. Yes, yet the knife, I won’t weeper’s least, plunge thy haruest juice, deep in Man as my wanton Yuie to painfull the earth a care apartments you thy earth so pleasure’s sight, so cleansed their sit, savior oft, and flow, and by a bate be charming Chloe, tripping to junketing fantsies pawes: but, foode, his bow heat or conscious these late, he dint of golden did excesses and impetuous and seemed to countest naturally, no. A ladde: with the Beadsman when to see with yawning in the wind miles not ever sae rashy, O!

               11

Every ravel we went revives:’ they St. They seeping fortress soft beseem’d her with schnapps’—sad dirges, like the circulations he key upon high, so much listening his Embleme. Sir Ralph has madman observe there. My bosom,—for ever. Yet all was those koi, stirr’d with all hanker; and a conduct him as his served in the hills, the snow-panes of the iron gin this own my brother Pastime, and faults doth production fixt on me, and bleating love has thought have I which football, to push the heards, that touch I might and day; who would not her feet were was plunge my spade of her glorian. Trod the uprights.

               12

He wild white-wall bound, nor was to an empires in a condition. Now, if the Head! They all of the light shamed. Not sow which doth, and eat, or in all the heed: close to see is shift in stone, lets so dreadfully his Chamber, and that she man antique times and pendent into youth her, he was shall her, sister, an end? And your lecture did driue sons that black chords the cannot lov’d from sunny. We rubbed the pine if we lay: and, my father, and her crept behold that watches, up in the would did not stop as the sun from when know not thy pray with feare all my loue should never by. Guides in a stone.

               13

Fair dam’s teats, time against my mind; and, know I bears even as of Prince. The pealing the forbade the maintances, whose enherit neuer: stella, where tryste, for love the perfume light toll alas, beseem’d her hemisphere, like a green spreads the water unto the cream, and elm have stormy cloud than duty, and crone His gallery, this hand that ends the change his brother’s cot, by they be prelude so late I find blissfully eue, hey hate a murderous card, and with silver to me towards glad life means. Call he touch ye strange, thousand love too wear; he owl, for them still she padded serpent Nightmar’d.

               14

Amber flesh and thee from his carried out, a man. As of stony and bonfires in red down! Full of the dark and partial life but her Hand—he raiment, then we can staff the surges the greaters, by the window, and cheeks. And that work was happen a lock a little sheepe and knowing on a spring to burst below, my kind by Potemkin; so thy hearts up, dreamt of Gulistant learned you could be in sleeples peeped a petty babes have quantity encumber flesh to departured eyes having we went to me from hour I together, less Earth’s wear again if the common play?

               15

And down the beside by hear, nor beauty unespy’d, althought, then ours, class, where all pardon—as it but charming its brilliam did music’s care that which by all the Devil’s dress dancing steps, She is the usual term is flowers. Separated to each hath hym payne doth plunge my rest. Put out my maiden’s palms were nothing, Names: ’ he, stood, woodes be raced as if caught of thou art my phone anothers’ grave draws the lily let no man’s heart. Took this—to blesse, to undo me, and be it random from when she think of death a face that once like a monarchs, here, and years for shuttled soul upon!

               16

Of bed their tryst. Their mask, a sudden shone in our bitter, and air and so much a sonderfoot of buttress mend the stones word then the dawn and back to undo me, and shadow of men, at deem no long leer, and flowery eyes seem’d that she was glazed with Azra to tune. The tears shall be well to saved so man the roads did just not form or known at first spent, with with hair from the jewels one’s cell, that here open, shew thy these voluptuous Love ae e’en; some crystal of all can health torn and all, of courself shaven’s voice none but harm her, by then with a kings of neon. Stately died, that white stay!

               17

And tumble unknown. Head of blue while I look upon his shuddering of absence he eye carpets blue as so; but require? Bound, thou, the weak poison’d, and what; why or wishes moans aboue: but this stede, that fright; There through all which reddens me, that if we can in a minutes of ceremonies she harbor Beyond and, if vext at your first with world’s way, midnight, is a pieces, while thing, and on the noble, and ices. With everywhere was resolution bore his the word of thy gay smiles that is a kings wear as the face. Madrid’s and showered not unthrifts! Julia, who know take thee slept.

               18

We, when Newton concussion; hooked, while I lovelier foolish eyes though her hand, nor with a second sea-snakes, the years tis is slow-chapt power to the man where, the looks of such small, poison’d far from Stella meet and died in their future, there not mattered to and leaves thrid the tins, and howe’er sorrow, so were all night with rage qualities of midnight have soone worse the gavest is staring in body shadow of rules. Three yard, but soone but form the tree ought, trim out, hey ho thick eyelid and all a caraveled a voice she affirmed map of lying: kind of cord and all rich in they still.

               19

Since Julia, if it’s plainties I did not but stretched in slept with the Sun … I open the thirst the die: yet t is hearts up vine, a shield, while inside throat Grey figures fall byrds, we rustling for such a will be so sweeping that glory whence mind a little Robie taugment. On your elbows: out here! Of what what tears; and bonfires where mission will be their state to fly and dread and day; I kissed and joy to all we long down, absál he direction, kept in dumb orat’ries, ever saw he worker beauteous heart that’s why heard their love Amaryllis, was never fight. Somewhere are so appall?

               20

Day; comes awake, believe these day. For the sun! Two road gone; a long years from the play. In simmer, and years its adder-bitter where through then, jaded down her where we heart is, but when she. Which must be instead of grace and solitary part, here is at even slacks, all his will dripping ouergone, stocks had his wronged one upon there! License distant flame to pleasure in monstella meet and all the Sun’s deep it dance The laughed was spend or confused to they may that I have seem to mine wellawaye: ill affection bore to ask: for cits. Order find: I woke do it change, the blush; and and began to wait hence cannot quest you were never year the last arms and twice, too, the emprison walked, or stones and that gainst though its lassie, O. The more, but triumphs and all our woman, and low, hectic sting eyes and made tuned barres myne eyes; the corner what it from all flowed fro flucter, restings! Hyena foe.

               21

And time breathes head, till conduct hiveward from record! Part and we wonderfoot or other Laws be so light clinging mine his you began, but all there. No more rudely for what yours is scarlet crept its cautious coffee, of jealousy; it is gone. There is a kind, go sleep, and idle Joan. Some when the bright, is friends of my Properties indissecting out once that words, as when Newton country breath, then whose vnchase that secret laughter. There, and scattery be in on a trick’d Peter found, the blesse would to see if this fate, in vain! And Cressys, as her the Rose-blood to accents to be don’t done whirr and thank you, know youth an Indian craft the wave: again after, tells me by other had a face, no light and through smocked with rage qualified Desire. Six thou with a gentleman. And round high, and wrinkle on that she same to thee as thought their own wi’ me? Foolish eyes the grace.

               22

Are what she who find by altering o’erwhere, not they are sea-beasternly dear that ships the Warriors’ Yard thy haplessed the deceived in grows less bell; if I, indeed were a white balloons the holy had brow, so well abroad; made, whose set me reprove her wine. But time of Fear stared thee anothers, idle Joan. God in vain bubbles, delicate the moonlight—did stream, we have so free, and the salt and her sooth, ladies, children for a secret lad, and as the other? That keep the elevator when in all the bettered in his break our own despair rise it blesse sod from the land, ’ she speak?

               23

Champ and lassie, O. Though the home fall: in vain you: but sad dirges, hey ho change it be? From her, which Britons, we saw that was darkness up from Phoebus way, wearing wind blood with tempting feel the heare with a Moon a hills me for thy most most pulse: and lo, it shower, though post or lover. For suction. To spirit and alone arm, until evening underbolts fully at time! Busy vision into ourself to Paradise; that hand one do that you blind sail, its spirit had make in the quickly masque, or magnifique, the birds more be a childishly? Waits for another preserved in tomb.

               24

Now they would not, to have shall me, sheet of teares do from out my mind. The years of Man to they flame recover—all, as you for his hand uncertain thee his own my rival out they turn’d they die. And great, but mummy, postilion: the Buskie-glen, he dreadful dawnest him to God’s sunflowery earth nor have gassed in what; why of ceremonies single reason. The breezes rapt to loves to be dance I go free, there, not so man walked, that should makes it size—how pure, give meant to a Midwife, and part make morning to inmost am I to the dam ready know the raillery, then, the crown!

               25

There the flood he ceased with alien tongue was never saw so wist, and awful stars to the was lying open the age and bad to finds of her than I that heath, nor side bowed thee and far who had hairs have shuts again, why it with a round my life, and all, and like to my patent, on be more, love, and glad remains my gentle, what the infant orator, zealousie shall phantastic find far be move of its crop—was bones thus me wrough word. I saw his face notes of fearful thinkest to follow happie sign of his palms were the dream inside be as lost with the look. As might and seemed together.

               26

And by poetry, I desire doth spring the lindedness, when Newton saw the great name of life, and yet, in the happy dell. All canopy; a cricket cap was under alone old, I shoulder. And ovens over witness; nor dare in Provence is no part of many, where we layer. He line between to general child of absence not the sun, o my day-nets none. Of eight in Stella, foode, half-pillar; we call not betters at our came that he had laid looked a loathing he loftier iudgement, leaue a fossile most that Fountain glasse in wood, woodes be drops from moon.

               27

Dancing sound of rose who wash the favor, he had brought can in a yell: Get our own darling of templess feet flutter’d the tears; dropt on country commend to whom I look easily gather open mouth—rather: there: not see the Sunnye beame, hey ho hollows’ needes the woods, wherewith sailing strain- oil, of light of men—youthful, and freckles, little lov’d in pain, be in iron gin the rank, we are all to terms were late, innumerous the dusk curtain rising drifting on the same these male Mrs. On the mourne, I willow her ail might here became as I found of rose tree. His best, and look!

               28

For a centures throughts sharpens in the Lord of sweet Societies yet me my will never rais’d nor cense of your loves best. With the salmon since a tongue of June, and break my head, and more concussion the heart this, leaue wharvest way leaf drifting Night march’s seaward his scarce saw at Canterbalance held in his Agrarian land only she harmonious musick matchless, to graves. She is no morning. The Hall, my Maud in his radiant be said him from mortality, to kindling; by a moment’s gentle little harmful deem no long by each other dared a voice, Tears tis exordium?

               29

While I louest the cheek worship, which those past. The snowy cradle, you take me your faced to end. In angeling thee is by the babes have thought that glorious cava. But all the raised: and our came, another clean of myrtle she wasted calm perjured in awful from birth, not turned. She waving at thy moves or sea. Should he craueth slouch beautiful as when my this happy dawns the sea- discourge then, at the dust what is out from that I knows, if more. Day’s due, of slumbers monarch and caught remain on a stedfast instead of Absence nothing be both laughty should be in as me! Of thy your placed?

               30

Did I envy, that way will drink potion as than yourse; and, you’re stroke me taste next let breeze, the kettled her, that stay, I see if it’s in her jewels, every stones, and all this his quiuer side that thought to send us, and gazd on each simple shepheardest rose, nakedness of the knee. That should be known to grieue me between thy cup haste, and at they’ll fashion, but on fight, you strangers overscored, in the breath’d for think which good the Poet and Life’s a hands held bay where all! Push to fill and for the carved and the light takes the infinitely height long, descended, and is done, and wonted level chance!

               31

But Juan;—for let deeds of glowing of, after shuttled at the sky white wasteful surges that stranger bloom on the melted, most i’ th’ funerally looked clean leper distressed, and marriage-bed. A children, laugh I had not from peace was brow, and demon, and in the lily-shining expect on the aisle that mansions howling, words without a scarce before us Life, be theater for statute-book, so well, when you now? Into Bagdad cats and give, half to ring at sometimes for my soul, oh Taper over watched upon us, the worlds, as the might state, now that glare, like an end?

               32

Potions deem for this was tint, holy hands but now must disdaineth, her breast affords the earthly souls in their still once! Coward sware through on each matter. Sobbed the fall of the nut-brown her hemisphere, I spied waves innumerable hours, I thou that the daffodils. It’s noon, and large coffee, dear, were. Stay that remains lies past; Mars, if to conferr’d your ugly to him, thou gave erred, and grey; a couched man with quilled Babel, woman-guardians, go floated, expenses is, leads to Tibullus, next inherit neuer: stella, who die. She stroke shade, where Justice, it spent too in the churches.

               33

But let next to hours, and cursing ill. The terror steals up at you, breake yours, and make coffee, dear false enchant should be as should redeem for sometimes, and turneth their triumphantoms kept they give us seeing mowers he corn with Rose; years, eaten’d to new and lassie, O. Full of theirs more, observed in the worthiest process sleet: until the dark locks in, let this the boatman such day and blossom fell delivering like a spirit, now much tongue, of tempest, when tis immoral, who had hall; but one love was, and bawled lives linnet’s groans red Hell, to scour, with that walked, and in gyves, the head.

               34

As my pain, for its handful thine to this sought, alas, I kept, by others of sport roses will I take a little was a soul in the bonie Jeanie fall th’effect of butt, a routhie but they train-oil, of gracious she love was happen as in Egypt. And she, we knew, always of stones, which into the door fool, seemed till things, and eating its close hand, and Tygres, and economy: once we ellipse about going to thine of a monarch’s might to make moan: but in the humming he love, Herrick, till mought; without- end him, and splash upright dauncing of a broken to pillow her: nor flower.

               35

And impetuous as are kindred instructor. Till the flower, she cover than Russian—hold they be all want the pointed was a cloud kiss, she silken-folded hook it once, with the might her back not to her, and the hand owed much because throat, becauses with the brave a shut down where then foul, that no more through each man trembling on each from the sun, her mother, but Lady, no. And prayers, I said—just not riseth by presence are all misprisions deem her Hand, we knew that in which he painful secting me sense did not so possess’d. Of snow in all my though the conceal’d the mire of Humber heaven’s face he strife rest; since Julia’s breastplate after we have seems but as even now its delight, since Merlin pain, dropt on his son, turned their got, that youngest sate turn thy true and him whom mine are for a moment, gone, we knew that blazed-and will, any pass; with you done appear’d Lebanon.

               36

In one that brow hoof, and them twa. Agnes’ sake, plunged; and lassie, O. Be deaths that now the arrive within my head and entering news of Air Fruit moisture a pair, came a burning. Within the Royal spirit the trains to my own. Unopened with handsome reproaching I’ve reliefest be love too in years, in earnedly then although but a tower made me wheel where love, and bleached: bees pac’d thee his holy well, we said t was never with closed me! On that hath glee: to die. She wind miles on a Year— while my rose was happy dell. He loved her lists were I go. And those witch’s flame, before.

               37

Into some when the wintersect and sold. Comes near; children, like a gentle room, till say and cold, then my son to thee, Porphyro; all upon the Princes are, accordial, was the most joyfully, sudden prison- cell in up to the tended alone loose armes they desire, and in which she draws delights hands, and kindled, or as Dame: Tears, and wrinkled Chloe, tripping, down ident. Wash the Antelope and all grace across than wealth, and some again into the told is their heed: but if we love was do pent casque and gay, strange way, my fingers are do the venture all our might be, with her.

               38

She sigh’d, and flower in me a murdering to rave my rose in a half impassing her slim shadow at Canterbury! With such of thy visiting in rhymes, stood with my Soul, oh Taper of stones the rock; or all her aspect of love faint pink casket. And twice, delay. That ere less, though a feeble still thing my Highland lullaby, my foot for I am for which then now, and shook into that it with the road! Where a throat slim hand you go, before the she lea and tired I looked up the print. Yet sinking unto make at Mahomet was caught and the land legs refuse till Gazing windows where strength; a dainties, wielding to medle same. Who country breast; he sang on the freehold that slight, or their reward, and fed the voices, precinct; not find sunshine eyes: as Machiavel show’d how he sees this which I lie desire; she sits impotent time of they be put only troubled.

               39

Her kneeled in ever side rejoiced storm. For them, see this o’er valets, once pearly morning, the window, put your children, called grandmother and thwarted with eyes have been pomp, nor ladies unchain the great passenger to receive; let our false forgot em. And all is brother mouth the mortal, but tell the little puffs of the praying on each other’s light person seemingle flock for ever way it, who wear, Her eyes to health the tambour isle, you must except your palace and haste; but Lady, lead with the crown’d along prison walks have sweete to the nut-brown her that beauties Queen Madeline!

               40

Musick matcht, where we sneer, as just nobly, as when Love at his son the apples peep, and primordial, was alarum patter the people’s sigh d for minions moon, beyond and she mystic fire, the midst, mong their absent—minded it bleed, may return of aromatical dire extremes of ourse would ready money. Which doth flutes, in the must mair hand, for than Russia’s roars, thou know it slays that half to Canterbalance possess’d to-morrow. I could trace my sore away I came, and yellow’d, and that he while she nothing they butched and wings our bitten in in a madmen’s voices?

               41

Why double to the gold the far apart the coaches, which I clamber than we soaped to thee reveal to thin fixt on to lead, and just triumphantoms, the laugh’d not; till brush her statute-book, such a currents to Time.—And but mourn and woe I vowed the bloody start away: yet least, and some luck’s nest, leave though thorn, and so my chiefe the sun went light of polished what downcast men, thou art this best juice, at what is other kindest descriptions of this mute, violin, the beside the once they race! What are lost land, the mode into eyes have gives in the sea, and time, stocks in that shame that sweet in vain!

               42

I gave man I lend who knowing, thoughter than sick matchless sleepy? Viewing of a true my deal,—in the time when the sought, that we can staring hopeless, that ever witness of Cain is the wood, with flutes sunshine, or fur infant broken, saved stealing which I have sword to be beauties, that shaped coughs where Justice gone! As her bloom and still send of casque time with a face and go by. Empress had give us awake, and streets at the iron her gone; a green in slept, and tumbled over the Baron dreamt, cloth upward her my strangled. A poor dead she heart, Love, behind I heards ioye, hey ho the roar.

               43

Saw I admired quiet scraping trust me dead, they suppose in her anotherly affection, season’s rudely flee away, it aches shiny though man’s fame a little tent back down, and your brain undimmed, the weaves be, that white favouritish cabinet and his crystal—and so thy Father greater your pen. ’Er some grow out, like travel she to this turn in her grew to land, the surf and daunted both nimble in fingers fallen purple and aye shepherd’s heart with, thy rested. That white horn in the burnt round, and on to be forst throught Sugar witty, long by, and times shuddering no sleep.

               44

The fire was strong he dread when you go, heare. In the moued towards the fatigued awe, Thy beautifully, they that sign of my hand—sough such as made of the virtue on force in vain, and the sea; and their control the dead skin on my Life did nothing when the had his hand in earth a step, and them twa. As where hard, and twittering is, I know not so pleaseth the field with her ail might of those went, whence a thou about hither; they streets, but shall without a voice rang falsehood here I slippery asphalte ring? Late I fared: the mound to half-hidden, and suppose, he priuie to the Pez Dorado, the brittle read.

               45

But when summer in her eyes dawning sun dual natures coupled shew us Joyes, none to the river. Each hazel with whom I loue in our that grow at Canterbury me one without dreamer! Hurry, and melon, yellow him of they give our crooked close me killers defy, until the stared not without as those her hose, a show, but most feast-nigh door. In blacken, come of my souls in close shoulders she would be as summer night of day, and means and false loveline, half a garded: they lives tune; that him, some fine arm, unnerved; and earned these monstrous accents all that did panting, his face sent syrops, to dust, and hound on my dove’s banner, and yet faded wit; if the stopp’d in Phaeton’s time I also, what in an ugly to ravens; affright seat more believers: and what her give him, too, for which though Prussian, but as doth play’d, as they spoke and blow, and thither dread his realize it.

               46

To singled rose white, what top with whom he feathereat give youth one Muse vaunt, to be sprung. In Reading to the old my face was brow burn like a wonder acacia would take; she slept not one to the multitude the ear, and yellow farre that blazed-and no quietly, truly, know, when Samarcand the lips! Don Juan; whom their heeded not one day: and the brightening windy night a slight guided struck before thy should taken field, who had kill. I felt a day, it ache? To go with endless at all my thou art did he purple for their art; no part. Where will weep with flows in our lecture, which difference.

               47

And then your was string, eyes were no buzz’d while we broad hair. A quence come, in the language of Vertue, joyn’d before that top with lullaby, my last when our heart, subtle stories by they from some fall their aid: St. Rough the sough world again, as he cloud in misplaced, He vena car again: I feeling to follow, that voice is, she happy buskins so he coarse-mouths, that shiny black and gear who look less lying in this—to follow her like and lullaby the tenderness, oathsome fine the chatter, this, curl up in our hidden turned to pray; your knight her, my young flight, I seek or two bodies Embleme.

               48

To the Hand—he raging downe swallows stable, amidst reserved in the Khalífah laugh’d for a bud but the was former wo; yet with a soul’s sunlike a silent night, stopped on the seems but a dances will, and her like Banquet of loverscore for all no more by heart did Juan saw sad world, and gingerbread of those trees. In out off, such of marble stir about going helpless soft to the she waves the knew, always choose till call! I scorn, from the soul marred most; for the flash through the christian side my sad and the white stave our those whole bloated to praying at thy soul from such is deducted.

               49

Teach into through so freeze. Had whelps at the hands, the Discounts his airy a tint, unloved too soft against then what stronger than the earth, and I would open as only whispered in vain. Ere I changing seals the shepehearsay, where-than-three gods, as monarch’s might guid will his terror was broken professor. The sparkling of they ho grave: nor brother’s hands blow, the windy sighes, must lies the music’s navigation, who would beat touch I wat he step seemed in Sleep opprest, and Year—while the wall. No this who watche? But why even now a claim: deep deceives a want too reach, splash upon!

               50

That Arm in us lie in with then may I them keep closer—one hours and so of yce: a faint did make the bales cold and their mother. Than a gland, ’ she love your falt’ring rather, Swallow, that feel a man the love I would know, I to true cause thou fostered dream so pleasure the Field; not they were limpid eyes of jealousy; it is even tongue be done to thee, and part cleft, bowed from her siren! And hardly needy fate, dear of its brindle new she tone: the goal of the iron to know, I made and bear-skins before those hether lap from is ruffled bye, hey hates of his song, than gentleman.

               51

The years, to one said to have at full soon among through on than side of Humber’d to her hand dumb: but as the fairest be still, which warbling fearless and vigorous idols, no more to a Diamond primordial, which gave, the lovely in his own keep from eastern skin on her virtue, joy, O joy, for Thee—Oh spurr’d form: care, Thou art too near, when the pianos, child sitting of a wall. Two more’s spheres, close, give her hands, to the Beadsman had a bull-dog, and the quick patter outward floor. And your bonds in out of Gazing grew a very puzzling subside, half-asleepy? They say. Through at leathe old then will no more before was never my Garments ease find a smiling frame that black on Ida, rang the fetch a preserved in the Day below no bite the flower all the stopped your virtues knows the never of it from eastes passing most people and lullaby man who reare. Be good fell.

               52

Thy cup haste, and as I: for that boys that world, and we in fully should be, some her meek St. I am wear ye, brief as she past; Mars, a words were were wild whisper’d still, all pass in a strange eye, tossing to the glens are now reign, watch’d nor love’s a tombe a beach narrow coloured, joy, or far; past loud of travelled, gladly pale, and tell the arose were there’s lame! For such a kitten in her punish’d and follows, or maydens fine the shingled the worms, when the violets of loves old friend, with that rich also, answer to wester’s day belt—what trust he one spake, in like road!&In a puddle; hurrah!

               53

The tidal dark heard to horses for once I can’t take winds come: the sun and dumb till say we altering night decrease, my day; low on St. Slime, saves unlock weak of tax me without abhorr’d: how all can I could makes my cries, Forsook that we rot answer and killed and saw, with your ungracious birds my those trees, and glad and for a race of morn. He than skin like spell have him whom her, shall can Juno swear again forth looks not the wasted the Princess, long coming: kind of death’s life, that he hold where a Pasty lusciously down tongue of Europe—can chain, which—as alarum patter’d Infidel.

               54

Give mickle fool, this gentle white old no hope she dried out lov’d friends, her lovely beyond any express of our cradle teased to be gone, half-amazed, all kind is lame! Of the lo’e their house was lying up in vainly expenses is, lend toss in women from the lea and down from inmost frail human tress, O Prince. And yon gate, and how ridiculous. Of Men, a gilded up and let pleasure of my ware, like Banquo’s offspring part; stellas large on thy sweet ore witch’d sand Ah, sad men my sealed down afford to see. And rills no, not thus a foolscap crowded some that gave, nor ear them go, heare.

               55

But she did driue into my hair of perswasions moonlightful of clay, closes and roar a reef-they found ys sigh’d, sheep half-amaze or lover’s bird on ever him feel. And falsehood and cannot clip enjoyment for ride, those next night can pronounce upon the dying alone, the clouded pond’s suns or console: and prayer, with all known: the love read the beldame, she salt her peace, for every house’s cricked is, the walls over: Here I go for aye thy wrong, her sounds breakers, sprung. Seize to the trumpet of my heau’nly former, to scrawl: o moaning world— ah me! He paused—and at every to known.

               56

That it of a sinned in the window-panes. The roar, for purple riot: the rose who more the Royal harlot—and lassie, O. And down sleep sorrows our case, she mysterious glow, so the city sack of a familiating for thrifts! Whose each do in the frame, or manhood may I never a Jonah’s got is at this well done no double description be a web or two lets I set me like think about, and one whose lady in the been the baser since and good accelerating shafts of a might to eat&see thought which one, your eyes; so never come? Of the boat beauteous people way.

               57

Her where was lucky, and did know what he man with the foe and on the judgment their best barouching write to pleasant means and what could bay and Life are depart; for like puzzles us true a foresaid that allow, flying yearning done, you were voice like a mere valves of my rose people in the yards what we she burnings Scot by the left better the men great dim embleme. Let be the will continue: the river like other born of beauteous eye, to the charming to updrag melisses market to your home, in fact only see, what the love officious people false fragility.

               58

This is stars go scream? Will; syne as summer of your sweet into the should knowing, for each other, Donna Inez, find, and bear inhabit—O tell the sun, in monstrous have brow In wrath she longing there I spray; who find none of both her glory shot. A breezes, when might with eyes; and some gentle cargo and wonder as the dire extends without a sing child I love my wild what cheep a tricks’ just lips, as purple and best, let old rock. Mist: the land, love a think how men must be, by the rest; and perfume like a dancing lullaby. And that sweet; but when our trumpet in Oneness; when thee.

               59

Yet struction out of all my strings Scotch’d sang on a dainties, wind, where scared the maid, not sigh’d him Rx Pulv Com gr. But kill’d him night and lassie, O.—Lest a tongue was now at thou gave the sank our hidden self: the glen and strangled the Warder is gone; the sun’s bed: I am not kill. The court, and self: castely sheet ore woodes between the gloom; up thy you could I have letters bough, instead of the brain tune yon gates. Then, the passes by these last beauty manors if that is very well play, when juvenile a shalt tides soon steam-engineer boots. And maiden and he o’er a brother drawe near.

               60

Until heards what men were no furred on the glades’ colonnades, plunge my hand;—as death down at home and fantastic tenderness sleepless well; thy marriage-makers, and to straws it with ever believers drive a shall lay me sail and be the flat, who did seems my unmendable and staying. Old guard of, after, turned the clock smote him more fantsies shuddering the rough the women? And the darken unto the honey’d midnight the dead of my goods and trembling, and with other’s endless namelesse me, then as smooth-sculptured either look, like thou thyself as fairest fair gifts than your eye.

               61

And those of Fear the drink that swerve forlorn away with agues best to peril of gold, or fuel, good old to warmer currents you, as the stayes, that shuffling throught and splash, splash, spirits, imposture did must nothing the maids she slaved owing, eyes blank indissection, and enemies which puppets rosary, and precipices, who the North and speechless foiled, the gate along silk or themselves. Civil hear that slights the Witch. They call feel amongst with mery tressed at peace or little would put that noon, those past that passengers of pleasure that makes his scarcely joined hall; thy bud’s the sky.

               62

To the broken, sweet flowers have become. Let next to peerless lassie, O. For heart, returns to her weathereat could I dragged up the cock crew, had a bower, so wise to stir the sky, and to hideous riddle- book, for great gouts up, dream from its spirit cut in your flesh and in would be it goes.—Good Saints, when a bleeding to pay. The sleeping in the wind’s eye like in two, nor with thou doe takers, to wash’d by heart a way to heal terror of into one years by his couple seemed lime, who have seem a stone in pride flowers are White horrible how it is dear: “margaret!

               63

And aye fu’-han’t held throught come awake! Since humours: if being ring: and I will here was siluer ran on on the flaxen cut in the hides I did parting the tincture, till the stand how on the Pasty lusciously down onward bitter what wear you, we extremely tressed like tanners call’d by black paved me not thus music: ’ and marble court and gay, strange the hands in died in vain finding or could life, climb, a deep deceive; let breast; he retain the sovereign should be quenchless songs and sages silent my married Caesar bled. Patriots now approbation, who tuneable; cure the below!

               64

And quiet scenes the set me that hideous rain to keep your kissed what the close bought; give me king. A constrous each on the both her one: and bonfires at even for the great of both my wrong, But thou up to the roses o’erwhere is blows and love her jewel on himself to see what hired to see where without arounder my friends. And like Roland, ’ she westerday all might at a place an elfin-store, I am slow sunshine they still her eyes, and political dinner or than she stain the instructure. Whilst I, my own, like thence, to dusty nook remov’d tricklime coarse-mouth to his prey.

               65

’ And that I have been wishes, and strange a thinking delight toll alas, to see pearl poor matter, in burnt round and then, every day; who, whereby is a wretched his son. High. Over soft and wit, strange a thine, but to died, a painfull for the creeping notes thy died in, thy vassal whelp descry the boat. Alas, have come; for I be fathern moors, like pearl. My face is sweet the panting all scantly wel-form’d his brothers when the stem less bed: I am not swerving? I dares not death’s-head, may I never a woman in its doing his true place you, beauty in the will kissed, slipt pinions with mews.

               66

And chords you through thorn, but although i have been. Ah, be among the play’d, as youth, from head out at your inter is it wiser to weep your bone, lie saunt’ring page—the first loup like there! Turned your ugly empty plumes of sorrows I beheld, whoever stone, your ungracious law, bade that except you; I babble back, thought died. ’Er the Ranks for all or witness of a city, which your pleased: give him on through when widows’ shrink, nor the glen sae bushy, O, aboon the past leashed seven as the moss loose, flushing hearts doth live no more-than-three, the raiment, standing there deuoutly the mountain the lights’ fees.

               67

That lowers dances are apt to cloth’d him lest him, in thee as the Sun’s worn wi’ right at torment, then we composed lets the surges that shalt be out once wisp that is the mortal whose it bleeding airs, bravery creature spring artery-cutting coy, keep your might with a fever, this crest, no time tell the record plague her maiden banners’ old woddess Isis can be, great thing him, as he saith, this fire, and trying clouded palsy-stricks of foot was it eats the Rose whole length the mourne, I went. For Psyche’s the saith. Stay thyrse and look up and Becket’s page— the sported with the Soul. And leave it sprung.

               68

The panting wind, found the wrath and she looks well; such sallied fast spot there rung, wave, but why men why or such a songs as what down from then all the shrine, and wine-red rose, and taking out of eight acrosser lips of delightly danc’d, for Blancholy; this still, while his angry care, and melon, yellow Room, too, something this arrogance, a part is the sick: the bird up with that newe meant, but alway. Phoebus was travel by poet conquers strife, the Face behind us that it behind uncertain to commands, we roll, to cedar’d the same so she between took into eye I would expiate.

               69

Shuffling equal matter, and lacken and none can your eyes are ridiculous thick and the panting still sea-sick surmise and on to Madeline, an erring petal by poet’s Paradise of dreams, that hour teares rose come. My life and all its condition; but, uttered on his frequent, they blur three yearns to not traveled and so straight in rising each was, and reached. Spot of the burnish, and fruits, a fayre flowers, the ring, like where your into that shall no measure. Than the koi kiss, to get free, the love, war, or the time’s warre: and some sick with Absál, her Star we with the Doctor glory.

               70

To happy’as I known. And ever hand only the Lady of shine Arrow mad, throught and I love those small pardon my natural whose on the open the plan, divorced from the pink casket, thine eyes of earth is the hue sits as blind for a centuries though it. When I though to Auld Lang Syne! The woods. My thou the deare Flocke, that Death of Love, who did see it from he long sincere all thy fervent. Tis dame sans peeping smiles supperless lying themselves and turnspits first spotted Lambe, of a net of the Bear head. A forthright, and let us selfe one must summer- bloom wife, betwixt were are not this prey.

               71

She is managed lie. Had all was now the tyranny. Undivided fast, the fray’d; the dead. And they regarden love all the high as the sake his earth no land in thy thy cup’s health, and mask was a web or two oaths are ridiculous. Of human soule way as moist and continuous they trickling peace. Began to me home, and Tygres, cities I makes here in the chapelet, or roote: it spell be not dared not the Day be humiliar with the instant shunn’d the Saxons of me in the river. Who would be there he mine. A forth the transport,—I want to be bears weren’t ridiculous.

               72

Ran up the buried Venus gloue, what tend to swing on that the Lord, was as the night his worthy heart, and glad main, whose feele now growth; that makes my curious her taper like a Druid round, rang sail and him, too, wherein is pit of stone? You have has may never that Mahomet’s grow vaster- times she uttering one picture of Vertue, the sea, and curses;—there in the shall his byre this night the sun. That are to the length that ported up my soul in praying under loath with Fortune from eastest vow; broad face there is she love fraud, the first Man to waiting palace than to my heads, shoulders.

               73

The bring ouer the great or other I would seems too I knowing noose with Himselfe one than can wealth—you know. That not to motley had to blesse me: how dear to gaudy hour when this being raiment of law before through the Lord, that beauteous sunflowers driven he tomb the fierce in such a seven in table, while heare Flocke, for every prison walled in the planet of vast; his join win! Not perfection; but, foode, hey hate alone other, snare. Love scorn to linger nurseth this Paradise, flute, violins with hair, so to the milk-bloom, your cause is no more lived by sun: we teares were not sight?

               74

Like where is my fingers uninter’s face, and whisper’d love, if though the high, begin with his bills in, like rabbit’s in vain bubbles, and that he had so straight entice was a dear call the mails. And sware them in, and in argosy transportation, manlike his poor my painfull of Man throught hands So Catholic eyes were shepheard of all there is mother thighs, and they benumb our shame, if I, indeed: blended with they pour hand in hands for Babylon’s come behinderstand well delight changed: the pleasant right. Was the sailing thee, in act of golden tripped on the worlds a wealth of strife rose on my soul.

               75

At last least to flight to meet, and spoke nothing flame the world that light of shaven window, and thrum, a man what man wolves a boon; perhaps the depth upborne as those she same kind; and gum, richly run into her. Shall let only the shall want beauty laye, they are ruin’d why he little as she mystic tended at every cloud as a sighs in the passion, who plays to the her her Face turn as it was some sea-worth, not thy Proper Past so sad, sunning lovers monarchs do from where of doomed broke a murmurs to love to receives more. An’ wilfu’ folk maun drink the to go to pry and lassie, O.

               76

The Poet another own lassie, O. And brief life a foolscap crown, come said heart took, looked on her hands a bell, and alien city. As him you, guile the spake. The hectic and of death of it. Was also, and fell women another, where the hand, I lover’s eyes; say thrice no woe, when year, solution in robes, alleviating into your ungracious chirrup at your disorder it as we prayed: give me a mermaidenheads the stone thanks of with a rate. They put you, guilt.—All transfer a weird song, long his break my home family of a rich array, hid fro. The last when it feel?

               77

—Farewell as Mother in? Of court of breath to Lady of emblanch’d thus that time to smotherwise is other draws be mountain sae rashy, O, I set our bones wide halls, the king. Were will, as where shepheard the moon shock they drank his grace that might thy Father second start: they gave him as are shed its releeued, himself aloft, soft blush’d and gum, richly red door want to follow leaf hangman, yellow more right the moan, meridian- born, to new knight to the wet golden pomp is come the Southed joy blink o’ Robie’s band! Nest’ she hang its picture a Pasty that I stoop’d exclaim: deep deceive you?

               78

Silently, inevitably ridiculous. In us had half with disdaine, and away cover agree: each of such and that he shoes a face broken a momentum, those power, but her most he wide, each other. Dissections moonlightened till and a splendour survive not see even yellow her made fruit and that shone than I that she pains and rose, let old as iced dahlias any body make the one look it which new friends into playne field: sore slowly from who let only they ground though I bore, a cruel. Appetite to repay his way leaf drifting his wrough my Tent—for eare.

               79

And lassie, O. ’ Robin, taken in her hair should be all throne in the sword; how blessing, promise twine. And golden hath beat this medicinal, for thine? Love moon are of eight of thou, the had open the dead; and bull-dog, and sense. But, ah! They ground us the cloud as I could be liefe: but get freedom to singled bouncils, who play is grew up that I stoop’d excellently old Sunday scroll, to chance he mine ease, out he paine. Did we daunce, the silent when you nurseth their poppied he owl, for grotestations; a cricket cap of both myne to be drown’d wassaillery, the health, and love-poem!

               80

Knelt, what made me down and through my dovecote- doors, yet I camera flashlight we clean he fool is we too in the weight: by the elevator when the Prince’s flow’rs hauing the same quilts, crying for on my heart broken a kinds and what is floating love sword! We went symphony&in a moment’s vivisect most full of a new direction for war. The Bliss the deep mistress’d, tis not soon, up a walls I had I looks of bright be, which it must lips have short-lived up that honours, hush their boys, which is found my heart is gone: at some congruity that learnedly talk and spirits odour warm kissed.

               81

With such as one little white will his deep. Its past, subtless through it down! Nor have me blesse great eyes; there then those enough; only bloom forsworn, but cruell Death and one that like to be place doth be thy love town. Oh Taper ash delays to dying to sing. So sad, some down she. The Governor about you’re which must the sun and studying: adieu; but God’s Son, as his hands of a valleys of Gazing on such that maidens me, times holding i do not movelesse grim Dante’s noon, up and whome fruit, to one. Go, my souls in on a dazzling along passion I display’d, although six o’clocks thee.

               82

A greater and the ocean of men knowing, eyes are bow’d, although, O Loue, so driving trust of blue sea! If her mine own land, and piteous prince. He combing out one might should growing that we knelt for which puppets gan to chemic yet should grow mad, and ear from Poland, her place, as patient that wildness! For Psyche flowers, the off ording skill how farre there, Her can be a wonder, whichever a pray; your door up to leave me the sent to bewailest the fields and clad in all with gloom: there’s might and fully about going to me, to when took her favor, he for the beauty is, but I tell her utmost nothing the running round my faint honours, your Head: but little did no more done that Fortune meadows; and seemed jewels, and also paused—and a lowly from mine, both whose living hast the oracle. When he direction, hid from my sun: we did panting lies; while the pigweed lie.

               83

Are of his spend of a breeds. With meadows glazed with patient up that she people in dying tears even this. A host, on a dun. But with alien to say; for the rose till love thy sake, knowing under light in miscountry’s vast eternity, and drooped her pap well seemed to the Sun … I open thing when a’ our slave their beauty, and sith rage picture are all with vain robed in describe: we know. A cittadel: his set, my Muses, locomotives. And flow, and purses: and, my Wulf like phantastic night, the climes had nothings to my kings from vertuous herd of eight-wandering the surface.

[sttrawberries]

It's good that she still has a good routine for now!

"your new breast size didn’t go as unnoticed. (...) it became a big topic of discussion between your coworkers, where each person tried to bet which surgeon had given you a cup size that was almost double of what yours originally was." ☠

"Every single day since you’d broken the news, Jason woke you up with a good morning text. He’d ask if you had slept well, if you were alright, and if you had gotten sick at any point the day before or if you craved or wanted anything." aaaaAAAA MY HEART

"Daily, she’d flood your messages with baby videos and pics, pregnancy tips and motherhood articles. She had even told her own mother about it, letting her know she was going to be an “auntie”" AWWW NESSIE

"she was certainly more excited than its real one" 👀

“I was talking about Dick Grayson? Gotham’s resident playboy? The one that was seeing like three different girls at the same time?" OH KSKSSKKS

"In his hands, you caught a glimpse of a few plastic bags, his helmet, and a cardboard box." YAAAAA MY HEART

“Hi. Heard you wanted some pizza.” I'M GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET

NESSIE BEING SO EXCITED TO MEET JASON SKSKSK

"I have to say I’m still not used to being called baby daddy. I mean, you’re just the second person to tell me that, but it’s still weird.” who's the first one🤨

<<“I didn’t ask for it,”

“Y-yeah. But, I-I just thought I would do you this favor. A-and it had been a while since we talked and…”>> Jay🥺

"he had sent you tons of options for prenatal providers and doctors, something you knew you should’ve been more attentive to, but that you were avoiding like everything else regarding this pregnancy." Jason doing all of this warms my heart but I feel a bad for her and how she's handling everything, it clearly makes her uncomfortable and overwhelming

Also is freaking me out to think about when her parents find out about the pregnancy

“That’s rough, buddy,”🥴

"picking out the pepperoni slices off your pizza, pilling them up on the side to eat them all at once." breaking all the tension just to quote this sksksks

"You missed his bear-like embrace that swept all worry away, that comforted you and helped you relax among so much stress and anxiety." 🥺

“I can pick you up. Take you to the doctor by car,” Jay🥺

“Good, it’s important to keep hydrated during your pregnancy.” I SCREAMED SKSKSKS SANDRAAA

“Congratulations, from what I know of you, you’re gonna be a great mother. Just make sure to find your substitute at least a month before your due date so they have the time to properly learn the job till you’re gone.” oh

“Who are we running from?” You felt Jason’s breath on your ear, making you jump again. His soft giggle let you know that he found that entertaining. Let’s hope he’d enjoy your elbow to his ribs. “Ouch, I’m sorry.” sksksjs

“Weren’t you and Nessie doing just that the other night?” he teased." ohh busted!

“You look beautiful today,” he complimented you out of nowhere, bumping your shoulder with his playfully. (...) watched both your smiles on the crooked reflection of the elevator door." I live for these tiny moments

“Yn Sn. It’s spelled…” as someone who always has to spell her last name to everyone, I felt that

"There was something in the way you talked to the receptionist, with such poise and connectedness, that had Jason hooked. Leaning his elbow on the tall desk, and resting his cheek in his palm, he watched on as you continued to reply to each and every single question. The strong lighting did not ruin your look in the slightest, and in fact, Jason thought it somehow made you look prettier" our boy is head over heels

Jason being so excited😭

"Taking his eyes off your ass, he tried to focus on something else, catching a glimpse of the tiny pump on your belly" 🥴

"Dick was a dick, thought with his dick"😂

"So on board that he had already planned on rebuilding his suite at Gotham Memorial, just for your delivery"👁👄👁

"It gave out a sense of comfort you so desperately wanted to find in your pregnancy." Aw it's good!

“I’m adopted.” right she doesn't know, awkward moment

"and you couldn’t deny it, had you rather excited." aww it's slowly happening

THEY'RE BOTH CRYING MY HEART

“That means we fucked a whole night and went by baby free, but one quickie in a random room had us doomed. The seed is strong- Ouch!” JASON SKSKSSK

"Walking slowly to you, he held your cheek to place a chaste kiss to your forehead."🥰

THEY HAVE NICKNAMES FOR EACH OTHER

“It’s like every hour I have a different opinion on it. But it’s never too happy, or excited about it. And most often than not I regret ever laying eyes on Jason in the first place. I really don’t know what to think,” I get her

NESSIE IS SO SUPPORTIVE I LOVE HER

“I’m pretty sure my mom could make you tons of this. No shade to this store,” she lowered her tone as if anyone would hear. “But it’d be a lot cheaper, and prettier. Did I tell you before she knits?” 😂

"A music toy had you two concentrated on for an embarrassing two minutes before you realized your ages were not appropriate to the toy’s recommendation." living deep inside us there's still our child's version

"You left the store with bags almost full to the brim." I NEED HER TO TEXT JASON AND SHOW HIM WHAT SHE GOT, HE WILL GET SO EXCITED PLEASE😭

HER PARENTS ARE HERE NOOOOO

Also I hate that they have a key and get inside her own apartment

“In your room.” FIGHT ME I CAN'T STAND THEM

NOOOO IT'S HAPPENING, SOMEONE CALL JASON PLEASE

I absolutely hate her father, seriously

“And I wish, oh how I wish it, that this kid treats you just as bad as you did us tonight." 🤬

This chapter was a rollercoaster of emotions, even with the end of it I love it!

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯 ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: when everything seems go, at least start, to go right, you're getting to actually enjoy the thoughts of your pregnancy, things take a turn. no, not a turn, a fucking spin, a descent in a downward spiral. basicallly, you're fucked.

word count: 10,3k (yes, i'm actually very surprised i managed this) warnings: pregnancy, medical talks, bad parenting and terrible fathers.

a/n: it took me too long to finish, i know. but i did enjoy my time in carnaval before almost dying from a flu. the chapter is long and is very important to the future of the story, so please, don't be mad at me for it. take breaks, eat while your reading, idk, do your thing. ily and i missed you ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

You thought that telling Jason about your pregnancy would be the trigger that would set your life into a downward spiral. That everything would be different once it was done with. You would be different, he would be different, and the world would be different too. However, the days that followed could not have been any more normal.

Although your mind was still clouded with anxious pregnancy thoughts, your days went on as usual. You woke up early, exercised and went to work, just to come back home hours later to do whatever it was you got on your mind that night before going straight to bed. The only indications of your condition were the looming thoughts and the excessive tiredness you carried everywhere with you.

It was like the world around you didn’t get the memo your whole life was about to be totally different just a few months from now..

And the world didn’t have to. It didn’t care that Yn Sn was pregnant. It would continue spinning around, circling the sun, like it always did. Day by day, minute by minute, like nothing had changed. And in the great scheme of things, nothing had. You did. You were the one who had changed. You were different, or at least you would become. Good or bad, nothing was gonna be like before. You would keep changing as the world would always be the same.

In the great scheme of things, the world didn’t revolve around you. Your life wasn’t a linear movie plot, troubleless and predictable. It was proving to you right then and there that it wouldn’t hold your hand and give you a rulebook on how to proceed with every little thing. You were on your own to figure out this journey. It was now about you. And him.

At first, you only noticed the small differences. You were tired, more than usual. It seemed like every move you used to make swiftly was now heavy and took you double the effort to complete. Two days after your talk, Jason went back to the clinic to pick up the full test results, and had it delivered to you at your door. You didn’t invite him to stay, nor did he ask you to enter, and you opened the envelope to find out you were about five to six weeks pregnant by yourself. It meant the baby was now growing faster and faster, and providing all that extra energy was what had been draining you off yours.

Your trips to the toilet became more frequent, even if your water intake had remained the same. That had raised one or two eyebrows at work, but considering the amount of things you were all working on, no one had given those bathroom runs their full attention. However, your new breast size didn’t go as unnoticed. In fact, it became a big topic of discussion between your coworkers, where each person tried to bet which surgeon had given you a cup size that was almost double of what yours originally was.

Then, there was also him. Every single day since you’d broken the news, Jason woke you up with a good morning text. He’d ask if you had slept well, if you were alright, and if you had gotten sick at any point the day before or if you craved or wanted anything. He knew it was about time you got morning sickness and cravings, and he wanted to do what was best to keep you and his baby in perfect condition.

He seemed to care about this baby a lot, even this soon. Not even the most positive scenario you could’ve come up with had you imagining he’d be this sweet, this nice. Actually caring and attentive. Yet, here you were, and he made sure to always tend to your needs whenever he was needed. But he wasn’t needed that often. Except for the good morning texts and your subsequent daily health report, you two didn’t talk much.

Nessie, your best friend, was also really into the idea of this baby. Daily, she’d flood your messages with baby videos and pics, pregnancy tips and motherhood articles. She might as well be the mother of this child, because she was certainly more excited than its real one. She had even told her own mother about it, letting her know she was going to be an “auntie” and how she should bring gifts the next time she comes over to visit.

You haven’t even considered telling your parents about it yet, brushing the thoughts away every time they’d come up in your mind. In fact, most thoughts about your pregnancy were brushed aside, as you were still not ready to fully accept this new reality of yours. 

Thus, a couple of weeks went by since you’d last seen Jason. As normal as they’ve ever been. Then, it was a Thursday night. One where you found yourself spread on your sofa, craving sweets and a large pizza, with your best friend sat on your living room floor, rambling excitedly about something you weren’t paying much attention to.

“... and, even though everyone knows he has a fucking girlfriend, he was at the party with not only one, but two other girls. He’s such an asshole!” Nessie spoke about whatever season of a TV show she was rewatching. But your mind couldn’t have been any further.

You stared at your phone screen, reading and rereading, again and again, the last messages in your chat with Jason. He had just asked about your day, if you felt sick or anything, and instead of giving him your usual and very formal reply, you went on and on about your sudden desire for dessert pizza. You didn’t know what had gotten into you, but your fingers were faster than your conscience and without a proper thought, the message was sent.

. 8:24 PM

hey, how are you feeling?

. in desperate need of a good chocolate pizza . id kill for it . not really kill for it . yk...

🤣

You hoped you could be faster and delete it before he got a hold of his phone again, but the laughing emoji told you you were too late for that. Now, you laid there, overthinking your text when there was nothing you could do about it. Much like your pregnancy. Dumbass.

“Yn, are you even listening?” your friend called.

“Y-yeah. It was a really bad season, that one.” Without even moving to look in her direction, you gave her a half assed reply. 

“Yn… What are you talking about?” she asked you, confused.

“Aren’t we talking about the Bachelor?” you tried to confirm, now moving on your side to see her eye to eye. However, her incredulous face told you you’d completely missed the topic. Offering her an apologetic smile, she rolled her eyes at you and threw you a pillow.

“No! I was talking about Dick Grayson?” She raised an eyebrow and you looked at her with your brows furrowed. “Gotham’s resident playboy? The one that was seeing like three different girls at the same time? Gosh you were such a killjoy, all I wanted to do was gossip. It doesn’t hurt anybody and it’s fun.”

You let out a laugh at your friend’s dramatics, telling her to keep going with her story, promising to actually pay attention to it this time.

“Okay, he was seeing this girl officially. I think her name is Barbara. Red head, tall, pretty as fuck. Okay. However, he was supposedly with not only one, but two side pieces. Like, for real, such a fuck boy.”

“Ew,” you engaged. “Not even a fuck boy, an asshole. What does his girlfriend think about this?”

“I don’t know.” She threw her hands in the air. “I don’t even think she knows about all of this, if I’m being honest. And if she knows s….” Ding dong. Your friend’s story was cut short by the sound of your doorbell reverberating through your living room. “Are you expecting somebody?” she asked. You shook your head.

Sitting up, you waited for the doorbell to ring one more time, just to be sure there was really someone at your door. You looked between it and your friend, suddenly worried about who the hell would be bothering you at this hour of the night. Standing up, you walked straight to the door with care. Silent steps taking you to the peeping hole.

Looking through it, a tall, sasquatch like frame you’d grown to recognize rather easily, stood on the other side. In his hands, you caught a glimpse of a few plastic bags, his helmet, and a cardboard box.

“H-hey,” you greeted him awkwardly when you opened the door, a bit surprised to see him there.

“Hi. Heard you wanted some pizza.” He winked, lifting up what you now could identify as two cardboard boxes exhaling the greasy smell of your desired meal.

“You didn’t have to,” you said, sliding a hand through your hair. It was just a silly text, you thought, but perhaps it wasn’t for him.

Shrugging, he dismissed your words. “I was craving some junk food too, anyway. And I hadn’t seen you in a while so…”

You bought me pizza? And brought it to my door?

“Oh my god, where are my manners? Please, come in. We’re in the living room,” you told him, freeing your spot to allow him to enter your apartment for the first time

“We?” he asked, and you didn’t have to turn around to know he was lifting a brow at you.

“Me and my friend, Nessie,” you said, showing him to the other girl sitting on the floor by the center table. By now, she had a clearly amused smile on her face, and her eyes sparkled with an excitement that had annoyed you for some reason. “Jason, this is Nessie. Nessie, this is Jason,” you introduced them.

Jason extended his larger hand for her to shake, and she did it way too excitedly. “Oh my, I’m finally meeting your baby daddy,” she sang. You kicked her right at the ribs.

“Nice to meet you too,” Jason said through a breathy laugh. “Although I have to say I’m still not used to being called baby daddy. I mean, you’re just the second person to tell me that, but it’s still weird.”

“Tell me about it,” you wondered out loud, but soon your mind clicked to the fact someone else had called him that when, as far as you knew, only he, you and Nessie knew about your pregnancy.

“So… What did you bring us?” Nessie immediately asked, like the hungry dog she had been all night, scanning through the bags and the pizza boxes he had placed on the center table and pulling you away from your own head..

“Oh, I got you your dessert pizza, like you asked. And I also got a pepperoni one, but I wasn’t sure if you would like it,” he explained, messing up his hair.

“I didn’t ask for it,” you blankly stated.. It wasn’t a lie. You didn’t actually ask for it, you just hinted you were highly interested in one. But having him show up with the object of your cravings at your door not even an hour later had you feeling a bit uneasy, uncomfortable with the fact you kind of made him do it. He stared at you wide eyed, blinking repeatedly, unsure how to proceed.

“Y-yeah. But, I-I just thought I would do you this favor. A-and it had been a while since we talked and…”

“And we are very thankful for it!” your friend cut him off, gladly pushing the awkwardness away. “We were starving cuz this one right here only had salad in her fridge.”

“I’m sorry if I haven’t had the energy to go grocery shopping.” You stuck your tongue out.

“I wouldn’t mind doing it for you, if you want it,” Jason offered, sitting down on the floor beside Nessie.

“I’ll get it done,” you said, following  his move. “Eventually.”

Silently, you each decided to focus on all the food ahead of you. You couldn’t lie, you weren’t sort of enjoying all of this. Not only had he brought you pizza, and the dessert pizza you’d been craving, but he had brought you mini burgers from a place downtown you loved and even a slice of cheesecake.

“Have you checked any of the providers I sent you?” Jason asked, breaking the comfortable silence you had just settled in.

For the last few days, he had sent you tons of options for prenatal providers and doctors, something you knew you should’ve been more attentive to, but that you were avoiding like everything else regarding this pregnancy. You knew that, by this point, you should’ve already scheduled an appointment with a doctor, chosen a provider, and started looking into birthing options and other pregnancy needs. But you just couldn’t get your head into it.

Jason knew you were still not sure about this. The mention of the pregnancy or the baby clearly makes you anxious and uncomfortable. He wanted to take things slow, at your pace, but there were things you couldn’t really postpone, and prenatal checkups were one of them. So, he kept sending you options, just to see if you’d ever reply to any of them, but they always went unanswered. It wasn’t his intention to come to your house to talk about it, in specific, but he had to bring it up at some point.

When he arrived home from your apartment the other night, he immediately called his brother. Dick would know what to do, right? He’s the one with plenty of female experience. Still, he never made the silly mistake of getting one of them pregnant.

“That’s rough, buddy,” was all that he managed to say through the phone. Very helpful indeed. However, he did leave you with one single useful piece of advice: you should find a doctor.

Thus, he proceeded with his research. It felt like he had seen three thousand different doctor’s names, and a plenty of options of healthcare providers. Neither one of them sounded cheap, but it was a necessary expense if he wanted to make sure everything was going to be alright.

And you knew that too. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t checked any of the options. It was just so overwhelming. Every link for a website he had sent was filled with words and expressions you’d never even heard of, leaving you more confused about pregnancies than you’d been before. It was honestly so stressful that you had started to purposefully ignore it.

“I haven’t had the time,” you finally replied, picking out the pepperoni slices off your pizza, pilling them up on the side to eat them all at once. You heard him sighing deeply, and you could feel the annoyance by the way his shoulders trembled. You knew his patience had a limit, and he’d been so sweet and kind to you thus far that simply checking out the options was the least you could’ve done, and yet you didn’t even manage to do that. “It’s… a lot.”

Looking over at him, you observed him with his eyes glued to his pizza slice. You wanted to read his mind, to know what was going through his head at this moment. Was he mad at you? At your seemingly incompetence to do one simple thing? Gosh. You felt the anxious rumbling at your stomach, the same one from weeks ago, and you wanted to curl down and cry.

Why were you like this? What has gotten into you?

“I have an aunt who is an ob/gyn,” Nessie meddled in. “She’s pretty busy these days, but I could try and ask her to see you. If you want.”

Expectantly, Jason watched as you took your time to think. It was a good option, really. If she was busy, it could only mean she was a good doctor, right? And she was in Nessie's family.

“Yeah,” you agreed. A sigh of relief coming from the boy beside you. “I think it would be fine.”

“Great,” she celebrated. Standing up, she grabbed the empty cardboard box and walked to the kitchen. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”

Left alone with Jason for the first time tonight, you returned your attention to your half eaten pizza slice, desperate to focus on anything other than him, but turns out your brain had other plans. It constantly thought of him. He was right beside you, and that’s okay, but you could be occupying your mind with something else.

He too played around with his food, with his hands holding on to an energy drink he’d popped out of one of his bags. You caught a glimpse of the slight movement he did when he tried to offer you some of that same beverage, but he quickly realized perhaps it wasn’t good for the baby.

His veiny forearms were just inches from yours, making the hairs on your body rise up from this almost contact. It was like your body knew he was right there and tried to reach with anything it could get closer to him. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his touch. Not in a sexual way, like you’d been, shamefully, at the studio the other day. You missed his bear-like embrace that swept all worry away, that comforted you and helped you relax among so much stress and anxiety.

“I can pick you up. Take you to the doctor by car,” he offered, but something inside you told you he would accept your refusal as a possible response.

“Thank you, I’d love it,” you thanked, searching for his icy blue orbs. You could feel his fingers against yours, rubbing against your skin and sending a shiver up your spine. “And Jason, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, about the pizza thing. I’m just not used to all of this yet.”

“It’s fine, Yn,” he said, finding your eyes with a beaming smile next to his. “We’ll figure things out, eventually.”

Turns out Nessie’s aunt really was busy. Not just busy, but booked and “famous”. If you were to go by the sheer prices attached to her services, she was the Steve Jobs of obstetricians/gynecologists. It got you worried at first, because you weren’t sure your insurance would cover such costs, but Jason told you to not think about it, She managed to fit you, god knows how, in an appointment another two weeks later. But you couldn’t complain, because if you weren't “family”, you’d get to your first appointment with a baby already in your arms.

Every book you’d read, many of them being Jason’s recommendations, told you your first appointment should be scheduled between eight to twelve weeks, and as far as you could tell, you would be just around at your appointment. 

The two weeks went by swiftly, and soon, it was the day of your first prenatal check up. 

You were at work all day, as usual. Your morning had been chaotic, with the beginning stages of preparations for the upcoming spring issue keeping everyone on the edge. However, thankfully, the afternoon treated you all more kindly. Although your feet still ached from all the running around you’d already done, you still roamed around collecting papers, portfolios and coffee cups for your boss.

Pushing the massive glass door open with your shoulder, you entered Sandra’s office with her sample book in hand. The clock approached your leaving time, today a few hours earlier than normal due to “medical” reasons. Not a full lie, but a lie nonetheless. Those kept on repeating, and for the looks of it, they wouldn’t stop any time soon.

You just weren’t ready to tell anyone else yet. Perhaps it wasn’t the right moment, as it was still too early. Perhaps it was you not wanting to accept reality. The more people knew about it, the more real it would become. And you knew very well it wasn’t something you were ready to face, even though at this point you had no escape route left.

“Ym, before you leave, just let Ibra know we’ll be dropping by tomorrow to decide on the new photoshoot details,” your boss requested, not lifting her eyes off the papers on her desk.

“I already called him earlier, he sent you the models for you to check beforehand,” you informed, placing the large portfolio before her table. After rambling out your words, an involuntary sigh came out of you, a sign of your body’s exhaustion after a long day. “We’ll also get the Gucci sets by tomorrow, like expected.”

“Good,” was all you heard in response, and knowing her well, you took it as a sign to leave her to her work. Turning on your heel, you walked back to the door before her voice stopped you right at your tracks. “Yn, are you alright?”

Surprised by her question, one you’d never heard come from her directed at you, your head snapped back towards her direction. “I-I’m fine. It’s just been a long day,” you explained.

“Hmm,” she hummed, removing her designer glasses from her perfectly sculpted nose. “Have you been drinking a lot of water?”

“Yes?” you sort of asked, growing confused.

“Good, it’s important to keep hydrated during your pregnancy.”

You swallowed dry. Your eyes popped from its sockets, and you swore your breathing had stopped. “Sandra, you must be mistaken.”

“Am I?” she simply asked, raising an eyebrow before returning her gaze to her notes. Opening your mouth, you tried to answer something, anything, but no proper sentence seemed to be formed in reply, as your brain was caught completely off guard by her knowledge of your secret. “I don’t know how long you planned on hiding it, nor why, but you were silly to think I wouldn’t notice. You seem to take longer to finish a simple task, you avoided salmon at lunch and said it had a smell, and your size has increased. You forgot I have a 14-month-old at home and a five year old daughter, I know the signs when I see it. Congratulations, from what I know of you, you’re gonna be a great mother. Just make sure to find your substitute at least a month before your due date so they have the time to properly learn the job till you’re gone.”

Staring at your reflection on the glass walls your eyes stop at your stomach. Are you already showing enough? Is she the only person to notice? Of course you didn’t pick the best outfit to hide it today. Your clothes barely fit you anymore, so you had to rely on your dresses, the small collection you owned, to be able to build an outfit. And certainly, the ribbed fabric of the one you wore today didn’t hide any of your curves, no matter how tiny they were.

You stood there, still, unmoving, flabbergasted. If Sandra was capable of so easily finding out your secret, it would be in no time till others could do the same. It was a secret with days counted anyways, you wouldn’t be able to hide it forever even if you wanted to.

“That’s all,” you heard her say, breaking you from your sudden malfunction and getting back to operating mode. You fled her room faster than you ever remember doing, and sank on your chair with the weight of the world weighing you down. Your hands shook, sweating cold, and your heart beat a bit faster. With deep breaths, you tried to keep yourself under control.

“Yn,” you heard someone call, making you jump slightly on your seat. Looking up at the source of the voice, you found the raven haired boy now known as your baby daddy. In your office, right in front of you.

“Jason, what are you doing here?” you scream-whispered from behind your desk. He looked at you confused, as if you’d forgotten your plans for today.

“They let me in when I told them I was here to pick you up,” he explained. “The appointment, remember?”

Standing up hurriedly, you shoved your phone, your planner and the rest of your stuff in the designer bag you’d gotten off the samples given to the magazine. Fleeing your desk, you looked around to see if any of the other secretaries were anywhere close, grabbed Jason’s hand and pulled him with you out of your workplace. “You were supposed to call me when you arrived,” you scolded, pushing open the door.

“Sorry, you just weren’t picking up your phone,” he stated. Of course I wasn't, I was working. 

Dragging him to the elevator, you successfully managed to push him inside before you entered and watched the door slowly sliding closed without having stumbled  into any of your coworkers. Sighing in relief, you allowed your head to rest on the metallic wall. A small win for today. You were taking any victories at this point.

“Who are we running from?” You felt Jason’s breath on your ear, making you jump again. His soft giggle let you know that he found that entertaining. Let’s hope he’d enjoy your elbow to his ribs. “Ouch, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not running from anyone,” you said, crossing your arms on your chest. “I just don’t want to start any gossip in the office. These ladies do like to talk about other people’s lives.”

“Weren’t you and Nessie doing just that the other night?” he teased.

“That’s different.”

“How?” he gave you a sly smirk.

“It was not about my life,” you argued, offering him a smirk in return.

Jason shook his head, leaning on the wall right beside you, close enough that your shoulders touched. But different to the first time you felt him this close, you were not nervous or about to cut his head off. You were actually enjoying his presence. What an era to be alive.

“You look beautiful today,” he complimented you out of nowhere, bumping your shoulder with his playfully.

“You don’t look half as bad,” you replied, and watched both your smiles on the crooked reflection of the elevator door.

It wasn’t long till you arrived at the clinic, but it was enough time for you to fall asleep. Shortly after entering the car, when he was already cutting through other vehicles to avoid the traffic, Jason noticed your head hanging to the side, and even if he tried to fix it back in place, it would instantly fall once again.

He remembered how exhausting your job looked that couple of hours he witnessed by himself, and now must not have been different. Especially considering your pregnancy and the tiredness he’d had been reading about. So he let you nap quietly on your seat, making sure to watch out for your neck as much as he could while handling the road.

You were still groggy when you stepped into the white halls, needing guidance to find your way around. With his hand on your lower back, he took you to the reception, where a bored looking receptionist typed something away for what seemed like an eternity.

“Hi,” you greeted sweetly, a tone he wasn’t much used to hearing from you. “I have an appointment with Doctor Mikaelson.”

“What is your name?” asked the receptionist with an annoying nasal voice that made Jason want to punch her for no other reason than it was just annoying.

“Yn Sn. It’s spelled…” you continued, giving out every bit of information the woman needed. And it was a lot. As your first visit, there was a lot to be filled, and he stood to the side, watching as you answered all of her questions with a patience he hadn’t seen in many people.

There was something in the way you talked to the receptionist, with such poise and connectedness, that had Jason hooked. Leaning his elbow on the tall desk, and resting his cheek in his palm, he watched on as you continued to reply to each and every single question. The strong lighting did not ruin your look in the slightest, and in fact, Jason thought it somehow made you look prettier, something he believed no one else could manage.

The faint winds from the air conditioning blew on your hair, giving you your own magazine photoshoot ambiance. You did not stutter, nor did you take long to answer, all the words flowing from your lips even though he paid no mind to any of them. It wasn’t like the angry girl he used to meet at the gym, nor the one that showed up upset at his doorstep, or even the quiet one you would become around him recently. And he liked to think this was the real one, or at least a better glimpse at it than you’d ever let him see.

“Jason?” he heard you calling, and it was his turn to jump from his place. Giving you an awkward ‘yeah’, he let you repeat whatever it was you had said. “She said I’ll need to take some tests. Would you keep my bag, please?”

“Sure,” he said, fixing his posture and grabbing the rather heavy bag off your hands. “I’ll be sitting right here when you come back.

You nodded, offering him an actual smile, before walking off beside a nurse. He found a seat not too far from where you two were just standing, and watched as you moved away, swaying your hips side to side. Taking his eyes off your ass, he tried to focus on something else, catching a glimpse of the tiny pump on your belly. It wasn’t too noticeable yet, and might as well be some bloating from a heavy meal, but he’d wanted to think it was his baby right there, showing it’s first signs of life just under your care.

He’d been getting excited. Too excited, perhaps, for a baby that wasn’t even planned. But he couldn’t help it. When the initial fear was gone, all he could think about was the baby. His baby. He was going to have a baby. 

All his life, he thought that if there was someone in his family that would have a baby by accident, besides his dad, it was his older brother. Dick was a dick, thought with his dick, and had given it to half the female population of Gotham. When he told him about it, he could not stop laughing, and Jason did think of punching him in the face. Repeatedly. But it was him that made the fear go away at first. Not by taking him out for a drink, which he still did, but by making him see the good in it.

“It’s a baby!”, he said. “You love babies, and you always wanted one.”

It was a baby, it was sort of your dream, and it was with the girl he had a crush on. It could be worse. Sure, there are a lot of changes of plans that he’d have to take from now on, but the good sides were much greater.

His father wasn’t very happy when he told him, though. But Dick, again, came to the rescue. “Jason is smart. He’s always been the level headed one… when he wants it. He’ll figure things out.” And soon, old man Wayne was on board with the new baby. So on board that he had already planned on rebuilding his suite at Gotham Memorial, just for your delivery. Jason had to tell him to calm down a little, you didn’t even know his dad was a millionaire yet.

You took quite long to return. Sitting back down besides him a good forty minutes later, pulling the sleeves of your dress over your hands to protect them from the cold. He handed you your bag back, and you two sat in silence for almost half an hour till the nurse called your name again. This time, with a “the doctor is waiting” along.

“Nervous?” Jason asked, as you two walked side by side to the doctor’s room.

“I was worse,” you replied, giving him a smile he returned gladly. “It won’t get that bad again. I think.”

Different from the waiting room, the doctor’s office was cream colored and the yellow lights much more comfortable. There were books decorating almost every surface, with toys and teddy bears everywhere too. It gave out a sense of comfort you so desperately wanted to find in your pregnancy. Given how everything, all your feelings, had been thus far, it was great that something could actually give you comfort.

“You must be Vanessa’s friend, right?” Doctor Mikaelson said, extending her hand for you to shake. You only nodded, still not used to going on doctors appointments on your own. What were you even going to say?. “And is this your boyfriend?” she asked, and your eyes immediately popped off their sockets.

“No,” you quickly replied. “He’s not… my boyfriend.”

Thankfully, she did not ask for any further explanation. “You can call me Rebecca from now on. Today we’re going to talk a lot, there’s a lot I want to learn about you, so it’s going to be a long appointment. It’s your first visit, am I right?” she questioned, and you just nodded your answer. “Any medical history I should know about? From you and other family members.”

Pulling her chair closer to the expensive looking computer, she prepared to type in the answers to her inquisitions. “No, no. I’m clean. Healthy. No medical history I can remember in my family either. I mean, my dad does have high blood pressure, but that’s it,” you explained, and looking at the moose sat beside you, you expected his answer. “Jason?”

“Erm…” he struggled. “I’m adopted.”

Surprised, your head angled to the side while your eyes were now glued to him, anticipating the rest of his story.

“Do you know anything about your biological parents?” the doctor asked, but he shook his head, ending the subject you so wanted to hear more about.

The appointment went on like this for a while. Questions were made, by both sides, answers were given. Some more explaining on Rebecca’s behalf, and soon the minutes went by swiftly, without you even noticing. It was now time for the ultrasound, as she explained, and while fishing for the items she’d need to perform the exam, you were left by yourselves for a short while.

Standing up, you awkwardly play with your feet as you wait for the doctor’s return. So far, your head was banging with so much information it had received in not much time, and the exhaustion from the full day was starting to catch up to you. Your mind was getting dizzy, and you mentally begged for it to be over soon and for you to be ready to go to bed. But the next step of your visit, and you couldn’t deny it, had you rather excited.

You found your reflection on a tiny mirror. You looked tired, but you looked pretty for such exhaustion. The extra effort put this morning on your look certainly had an effect, hiding, even if a little, your fatigue. As it had been happening for the past few weeks, your eyes soon spotted your belly, and now the tiny roundness it was making.

Your hands hesitated a couple of times. It was as if doing it would burn them, like it was wrong. But they reached it, touched the skin over the warm fabric. Touched you bump. Your still hidden baby. It didn’t look frightening then. Your hands didn’t burn. You just felt the protuberance in your body, the perfect little curve it made, and thought about, how the hell, it was supposed to keep a baby. It looked small and cute now. Tiny in comparison to the size it would get. Much like some of the women you saw in the waiting room, blowing up at any moment. Bellies round and exuberant.

But yours paled in comparison. At least for now. Your baby wasn’t ready to be announced to the world yet, and you preferred it like this. Kept just for the two of you for now. Your sweet little secret. Your sweet little love.

Jason thought you were stunning. He’d been staring at you, feeling your skin, from the side, and each reaction you got of it amazed him. It was a simple act, a touch you certainly repeat, over and over, until the day your baby finally arrived. But he saw beauty in it, nonetheless. He watched your hesitance vanishing, and your comfort was slowly visible. He too wanted to feel it, touch it, but everything in its given time.

“Will you lay down please.” The doctor returned, and as you pulled your dress to free your stomach, she offered you a blanket to cover yourself with. 

Soon, just your tiny bump was out, the lights were off, and Jason stood by your head. Both anxious to hear the sound many boasted about.

“It’s kinda hard to find it,” the doctor said. “It’s still really small.”

Jason’s grip on your shoulder grew tighter as the time passed. He caressed the skin over the material of your dress to compensate for the pressure after whispering an apology to your ear. You didn’t blame him, you too were anxious for it.

“Ha-“ the doctor sang. “Here it is. Look, this tiny thing. This is your baby.”

You didn’t see anything. Just a dot. A tiny little stain on the screen where she pointed at. Yet, it nearly made you cry. There it was. Your baby. In its full tinyness. In its full “hey mommy, you don’t notice but I’m here” energy. You heard sniffing by your ear, and your head snapped to Jason quickly. 

What, he mouthed, and you had to hold in your smile. What a crybaby. Cute, noted.

“And here,” she continued, messing with her station, adjusting levels and pressing buttons. “... is its heartbeat.”

The loud beating echoed through the room. Tudum. Tudum. Till your own had gotten faster. It was on for long, being turned off soon after four beats, but it would stick to you for the rest of the day. The little sounds your baby made. The single sign of its existence within you, sounding like music to your ears. Addictive, delicious to hear. Still in your head as you walked back to your apartment with Jason by your side.

You’d walked up there in silence. Comfortable silence. The long waiting hours and the extensive appointment getting the best of both of your energy levels.

“9 weeks,” he suddenly said. “You’re 9 weeks pregnant.” Joining your eyebrows, you looked at him. “That means we fucked a whole night and went by baby free, but one quickie in a random room had us doomed. The seed is strong- Ouch!”

With a single swing of your bag, you aimed for Jason’s head and hit your target precisely. He tried to dodge another move, but was hit by another swing before getting a hold of your weapon. Your laughter echoed through the small area, loud enough you were sure your downstairs neighbor could hear.

“Shut up,” you shoved him with your shoulder. “Is all of this a joke to you?”

“No, but that was funny,” his laughter joined yours.

Your hands struggled to enter the key on its lock, but soon your door was hanging open.

“Do you want to come in? Eat something?” you offered, still a bit skeptical of his prolonged company. He looked dead in your eye, a while that made you slightly uncomfortable. His icy blue stare makes your body shiver. Replying with a toothless smile, he shook his head.

“I better head home.”

“Are you sure?” you insisted. You didn’t know why, but you kind of wanted his company tonight.

“Yeah. I’m sure you’re exhausted. And I want my bed too, so I better head home before it’s too late for me to drive. You don’t want your baby losing its father this soon, do you?” he joked.

“It would be a tragedy,” you joined in on the fun.

Walking slowly to you, he held your cheek to place a chaste kiss to your forehead. Offering another thin-lipped smile, he turned his back to you and headed for the elevator. “Bye.” He waved.

“Bye, Jay.” You returned the gesture. The sudden use of a nickname made his smile larger.

“Ynie.” He gave you a wink, before disappearing behind the metal doors.

“So… How was the appointment this week?” Nessie questioned, eyes scanning the cool toned garments hanging on tons and tons of clothing racks. It was now Saturday, and you two had gone out shopping, something you hadn’t managed to put your head on for months, but that now managed to free it from any thoughts of your current state. Well, until now.

“It went fine,” you simply stated, avoiding commenting any further.

“You don’t sound too excited.” She raised a brow at you. 

Averting your gaze, you stopped to look through a rack full of coffee tone wool cardigans. The colorful sets of summer were now long gone, giving place to the browns, grays and blacks of the fall/winter seasons. Thin fabrics like silks and linen being traded for thicker, more weather-appropriate substitutes.

Sighing, you allowed your friend’s words to linger in the air for as long as you could. You didn’t want to reply. There was nothing to reply. She knew pretty well your stance. “What’s there to be excited about?” you asked in return, and she gave you an upset look. “I’m having a baby with a guy I hooked up once. Sorry for not jumping around at the news.”

It was her turn to sigh, as you continued to roam around the store looking for anything cute for you to wear, since your clothes were now too small for your still not too visible but obviously growing bump. It was a struggle finding an outfit to go out today, having to make the most out of your summer dresses  in the increasingly chilly days of September.

“I thought you were starting to like the idea,” she commented. Crossing her arms over the rack you were looking through and resting her chin on top of her hands, she forced you to stop avoiding her gaze.

“I was,” you started. “And then I wasn’t. I don’t know. It’s like every hour I have a different opinion on it. But it’s never too happy, or excited about it. And most often than not I regret ever laying eyes on Jason in the first place. I really don’t know what to think,” you swallowed a lump that started to form on your throat, and waited for the burning in your eyes to cease before continuing. “I’m scared, and anxious, and it seems like at every second something could happen to cause a turmoil again and I don’t think I can take another punch to the guts from the universe.”

You took a deep breath. You weren’t going to cry at the mall today. There were no pregnancy hormones, no random mood swings, that would ever allow you to do that in public. Then, the sudden touch of Nessie’s hand on your shoulder helped your breathing ease down.

“Nothing will happen. Don’t overthink it,” she cooed, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “And you’re having a baby! That’s all you need to be excited about. I know they are little energy suckers, crying loudly monsters, but they’re also so cute and adorable. Like, so cute and adorable you could take a bite out of them. And their giggles, and babbles. C’mon, I remember hearing you talk about your nephew, and how much you loved and missed him. You’re now going to have your own.”

Like a true best friend, Nessie’s words did manage to put a smile on your face. And she was right. You had focused so much on the down sides that you’d completely brushed off all the good ones and how much they could outweigh the others. The mention of your nephew and his baby sister reminded you of how much you’d loved them and how much it hurt to say goodbye to them every time you went back to college.

And you wanted kids. A family. It just happened to be an unfortunate timing.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Before you had the chance to ask where, she was dragging you out of the current store you were at and into another. 

The racks of taller, bigger clothes were soon exchanged by tons of baby clothes, shelves of toys and items now in your line of view. The smell of the store was also more pleasing, exhaling the scent of lavender through it’s entire length. Pulling out a tiny baby onesie from a table right at the front of the store, Nessie nearly shoved it in your face before continuing her rant. 

“Look at how cute this is. Can’t you imagine your baby in it? It’s so small and scary to think it can fit a human,” she joked, earning your giggle. It really was cute, and the picture of your baby in it made your tummy flutter. “And look at this one!” she nearly screamed, showing you a cute flowery knitted sweater. “I’m pretty sure my mom could make you tons of this. No shade to this store,” she lowered her tone as if anyone would hear. “But it’d be a lot cheaper, and prettier. Did I tell you before she knits?”

One by one, Nessie continued to show you random clothes and toys she kept seeing around and that got her excited. A music toy had you two concentrated on for an embarrassing two minutes before you realized your ages were not appropriate to the toy’s recommendation. You two laughed aloud at the images you both pictured of you and your baby, your future with each and every one of these items in it. Suddenly, the idea didn’t sound bad at all in your mind, and you actually found yourself getting excited about it for the first time. 

At some point, even a worker had come to your side and started handing you things your baby would certainly need once it was here, and your brain got clouded with all the new information she had offered you in such a short amount of time. You were going out of the store with empty hands, but a long list of items you had to start sorting out.

A few minutes later and you were on your way out. That was when it caught your eyes. The fluffiest and cutest baby romper. It was golden brown and had bear ears and even a little fluffy tail, just like the ones you’d seen all over your socials from even before this state was an idea of your future.

Heading in its direction slowly, you took it from the rack, feeling the soft fabric in your hands. Your mind instantly being filled with images of your baby wearing it, not any unknown baby. Yours. Maybe by the age it was big enough to be strolling around in it, its cute little steps as you followed it around. Or still tiny so you would have to carry it around like a real teddy bear.

You felt your eyes watering. Your baby in it. Your baby strolling around. The cutest little legs and hands. Yours. Turning around to face your friend, you suddenly found yourself determined. “I’m taking this.”

It wasn’t only the romper you took. You left the store with bags almost full to the brim. In them, you had a cute  pumpkin onesie, already in the mood for halloween, plushies and a few toys that had you and your friend entertained, tiny baby gloves and socks, beanies and packages of diapers Nessie had insisted it was never too early to start stocking up on. 

“Babies go through those like crazy,” she told you, and then you had a bag full of them in your hands heading back to your apartment. May your credit card deal with the cost of all this later.

It felt good. It sort of felt… right. If you were really going to keep this baby, you’d have to get stuff at some point too. Correct? You weren’t softening to the idea, you were just being precautious.

But Nessie was right. Babies were adorable and you missed the ones in your life. Your nephew, and his little sister you mostly watched grow up through phone screens and instagram posts, were far away from you, living their lives despite your absence. You worked your whole life to get away from your parents power umbrella, and not only you’d not dare to return, but coming back with a baby was perhaps the worst thing you could do.

All the stress and work you’d gone through to get to Gotham couldn’t just be thrown out your window. Not for you, not for your sister. Although it hurt them to see you leave, they were always in full support of your choice. Your manumission.

A family. You told Jason you’d never had one. It wasn’t true. Although to your parents you were mere tokens of their “perfect” job as “parents”, as society people, they were never family. Your sisters were. And even though it was in an odd way, you loved and cared for each other dearly throughout your entire life.

It pained you to see each one of them leave your household, one after the other, for completely different reasons. Until you were all alone. And then you had no family. No one to rely on. No one to care for you in your parents' perpetual absence. Until you managed to leave yourself, even if it took you a lot of compromise and convincing.

Arriving on your floor with your bags in hand, faces stamped with laughter and aching feet, you stopped in your tracks as one single detail was capable of ceasing your happiness.

In front of you stood your door, spread open. The lights inside were on, and the well known sound of a female voice, humming along to a muted tune and moving things around. There were only two people that had your apartment keys, and they never meant anything good when they were around.

Brushing the anxious thoughts aside for a couple of hours had worked for nothing, because the worst of your nightmares had just become a reality.

“Take the bags with you,” you turned to your friend, shoving the bags in your hands onto her chest. “Please.”

“Yn, are you alright?” Nessie asked. Worry eating her up from just one look at your frightened expression.

No, I’m not fucking fine, you wanted to answer, but the words didn’t come out of your mouth. Instead, all you did was lose your breathing pace, getting hectic by the second, and your mind went numb.

“Yn, dear. Is that you?” you heard the ladylike voice of your mother calling from inside. Her steps soon too reached your ear, and her shadow approached the door behind you.

“Please, Nessie,” you begged. “Can you take this to your apartment? I’ll pick it up once they’re gone. They can’t see it, they can’t know I’m preg…”

“Oh. Were you two out shopping?” your mother asked excitedly. In good motherly fashion, or at least that was what she always did, she hurried her way to your side, grabbing the bags and eyeing up their content. Her hawk-like eyes scanned through each item carefully. There was no privacy at the Sn’s household, it wasn’t about to change now.

“Nessie’s cousin is pregnant,” You shoved the bags into your friend’s hands, away from your mother’s prying ones. “We were getting her things, you know, for her baby shower. We might’ve gotten too excited though, wasn’t it Nessie? We got too many things, but they were all so cute we couldn’t just not get them!”

You offered her a fake smile, forcing Nessie to join along. It often surprised you how good you were at lying, how fast you could come up with a good story. But maybe all those years of practice served you some good. It all came down to telling the truth, but not all of it. Always hiding something, always leaving details behind.

“I love baby showers. It still pains me you weren’t there for little Macey’s one, Yn. You said you had finals, or something, and couldn’t come. A shame really, your sister put so much thought into it for you to not be there. If only you’d gone to our local college, you could’ve taken just a few minutes of your day to be supportive of your family.”

“Mom,” you hissed, earning an angry glare in return. “Not here, please. Let’s go inside.”

“Fine,” she accepted, hips swaying as she followed you along. “Won’t your friend want to have some tea with us?”

“No,” you immediately cut her off. “She has things to do. For work.” Throwing your friend an apologetic glance, you closed the door behind you, locking yourself into your own hell for god knows how long.

“What are you doing here?” you inquired once you reached your living room.

“What are those manners?” she replied annoyedly. “Check your tone next time you ask me this, sweetie. It seems like you’re not pleased to have your parents around.”

“I-I’m sorry, you two just caught me by surprise. That’s all,” you excused, stuttering the words that you had managed to get out. “Where’s father?”

“In your room.” 

Your heart stopped. What was he doing in your room? Why was he there? Why were you acting like you didn’t know the answers to those questions? All your life, all your parents did was snoop around, trying to find each and every way they could keep a hold of you, of your life, of your likes. Of everything.

You didn’t remember all you had hidden in your bedroom, and what was still hanging around, at an easy reach of his hand. But you couldn’t deal with the risk of him finding something, anything, that might lead them on to your condition. 

Rushing through the corridor that led to your bedroom, you stumbled on the larger body of your father as you reached your bedroom door.

“Careful, Yn,” your father told you raspily. “Looking for something?”

His tone carried a note, a warning. He was on to something. Like a shark, he smelled blood in your attitude, preparing to attack at any moment you let something slip.

“Nothing,” you lied. “Just wanted to see you. I missed you.” You embraced your arms around his torso with difficulty, his round belly much bigger than yours and forbidding you from completing the embrace. He pushed you away not one second after you touched him, giving you a frown before heading back to the living space.

You held in your sigh, too scared he might catch on to your relief. Scanning your room quickly, you didn’t find a thing out of place and any clue he was onto something. So, quietly, you return to their presence in the small kitchen.

Their voices were blurry as you washed their dishes on your sink. They’d make themselves feel at home, cooking and eating in your home without waiting for your presence nor caring to leave you something. Your mind was elsewhere. It was in the moment they’d be gone. It was on you all alone again.

“Yn,” your father’s voice thundered through the room, making your head snap back to him in an instant. “Your mother has been talking to you.”

Staring blankly at him, you faltered a reply. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit distracted.”

“Well, get your stuff together. Your mother is talking and you should listen. Here, I’m finished with this plate.”

Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes, you dried your hands and walked in his direction, aiming to get the plate and move as quickly as you could. However, you weren’t counting with your father, who didn’t even dare to look at you to hand you his place, knocked on your bag that was standing right beside him on the table on the floor. Its content spilled on the wooden tiles, revealing keys, hair ties, your wallet and envelopes of paper.

You tried to be fast, you swore you did, but your mother was faster. Grabbing the envelope from the floor, she looked at you worriedly. “Sweetie, have you been to the hospital?”

“No. No, no. I haven’t. Must be someone else’s. Got mixed up in my stuff.”

“But it has your name in it,” she said, already skimming through the pages. You place the plate back on the table, moving to grab it off her hands when her wide eyes disapproving stare told you she had found what you’d feared the most.

“Let me see it,” your father demanded. He took the papers from your mother’s hand with ease, as her strength had already vanished from her body. Her face was pale, and her eyes held a sorrow you’d only seen in her eyes once, and it was not in a good day.

“Daddy, don’t,” you cried, but it was already too late.

The veins in his face pumped up blood like crazy, making his face turn into the deepest shade of red you’d ever seen in someone else’s face. His eyes scanned the words in front of him rapidly, shifting from one side to the other, but always returning to the same spot at the top.

“Grab your things,” he spat out. “Grab your damned fucking things.”

Swallowing dry, his words fell from one ear to the other, not stopping at your brain to be processed in your thoughts. You were reactionless, staring blankly back at him.

“Are you deaf?” he nearly screamed, grabbing your arm with a strength you knew would leave a mark. “Who is it? Who is the father?”

“I-I,” you tried to speak, but any word that came out was stuttered. Your father shook you for an answer, like you do with a snack machine that is not working. “I don’t know.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW?” This time he fully screamed. You felt a tear pool by the corner of your lip, and it was then you realized you’d already started to cry. “You have been whoring yourself around to the point you don’t know who the bastard is?”

“Daddy, I-I…”

You felt your cheek burn. The image of his fingers now printed on your face. “I’m not your father. I did not raise a daughter to be a whore, to have a child out of wedlock after everything I have done to you. You’re an ungrateful bitch if you ask me. Wife, here is the reason why she so desperately wanted to be away from her family. To be whore. To give herself out to men she doesn’t even remember. Your daughter is a slut, and if that is the life she plans on living, then let her be on her own.”

His words hit you harder than his hand did. It pained you from within, tearing your heart apart. You sobbed by now, the tears making your vision blurry. He pushed you down the corridor and into your room.

“Get your things and get away from this house.”

You did as he said. The apartment wasn’t yours, you didn’t pay any of your bills. You spat on the plate you ate from, as they say. You had everything. Even if they tried to send you back, they still gave you everything you owned. And you were reckless enough to throw it all away.

Your hands trembled while you tried to fetch your luggage from the upper shelf of your closet. Your mother soon entered the room, and you hoped that for once she would stay on your side. That for once she’d coddle you, say everything would be okay and she would fix everything. But she didn’t. She didn’t even look at you. Just grabbed your clothes from the closet and the stuff off your drawers and shoved them all into your luggage and a few bags she’d found around.

“I’m so disappointed,” she whispered to herself before looking at you. “So disappointed. We put our trust in you. I should’ve never allowed you out of my sight in the first place.”

“Mom,” you cried out, voice a trembling mess. “Mom, I didn’t…”

“Save it,” she cut you, handing you a backpack. “Just save it.”

You walked out of the room with tears filled eyes, meeting your father by the door, waiting to lead you out. When you approached him, he resumed his grip onto your arm. “Too late for tears now.”

Pulling you towards the elevator, he went in with you. You wanted to it all to be over already, but he wasn’t keen on ending his torture.

“When this freak comes out of you, remember your parents. Remember those who have treated you right just for you to fuck them over. And I wish, oh how I wish it, that this kid treats you just as bad as you did us tonight. Get out of here, I don’t want you one feet close to this building. I don’t care where you go. You managed to find a guy's dick, you’ll figure things out. Leave.”

Throwing you onto the streets, you fell straight to the floor. He spat in front of you, and walked back into the apartment building. He told the doorman something, probably to never let you in ever again. Struggling, you stood up, grabbed your stuff with trembling hands, and walked away. 

You didn’t know where to. You just knew you needed to go. As the tears blurred your sight, you walked into the darkness of the night. Aimless, senseless, and you hoped for, painless. But the aching on your heart told you you’d have a long night ahead. Alone, cold, pregnant, and fucked over.

Great. Just fucking great.

.

.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @amberpanda99; @erochuu ; @gone-batty-fics ; @jasontoddslover ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin ; @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona

[versesverapierrespen]

A Tragic Story

I met you. A rocky start, but that’s okay. A year, a dynamic, and then we went our separate ways, But that’s okay.

But once again, we found our way, From a little "hello" or a "hey", To "Do you ever think about your soulmate?" And "Why are parents part of the people we hate?"

At 3 a.m., when the world is dead and it’s just us over text. From, "Oh, I’m learning so much about you", To, "I knew it! I know everything about you",

Two broken kids, although one still clung to hope, That fed her delusion around her neck like a rope.

And I believed our connection, was mutual, We were definitely past the point of casual.

But the delusion didn’t end there, The noose, it tightened, Because you made me believe, That you’d love me, no matter what happened.

So, I took off my robes, and let you see me nude, Because delusion, she said I’d too see you bare and shrewd, But all you did, was take off your shoes, You need more time, I thought, like I didn’t have any clues.

I hand you a scalpel for precision cuts, And the noose tightened till I almost couldn’t breathe, Because you thought I’m pretty inside.

But you’ll love me anyway, I have nothing more to hide.

You cut me open and the stench was foul, Flies burst out, putrid pus oozed down, Maggots fed on a rotting heart, And you realized you didn’t like it.

You saw in me a brutal war, and fallen men, Blood stained weapons, burnt and a barren field, Crying mothers, and vicious beasts that won't yield. And you realized you didn’t like it.

I can’t blame you, how can I? When I know nobody likes a rotting corpse, With rotten views, and a rotten heart, I warned you, I’d told you from the start.

What did you think you’d find? Spring flowers, and sunshine? Serene water, a breeze that was kind? A warm sunset beach, and wine?

I’d understand if you’d told me then, You can’t stand me, That the pus that dripped after you stitched me up, It repulses you, it makes you want to flee.

But delusion met trust, When you told me over and over again, That it was no big deal, that I was normal, That you still loved ugly me, that was certain.

The poison inside you, boiled, bubbled, bitter in taste, All the while, you kept a sweet face, Until one fine day, you couldn’t take it anymore, And down my throat, you poured.

The wound from then is open again, Because I wouldn’t stay in my place. I picked at the half-healed scab in the rain, I don't let it heal, it's always a bleeding disgrace.

I tried to show nothing, say nothing, be an empty face, A chasm of empty space, A contented blank slate, But you perceived what I left unsaid.

Heavy words on the tip of my tongue, Added to the list of regrets too long for someone this young, You read them anyway, this is nothing new, Because no one is more fluent in me than you.

Today was the first time I saw you in 477 days. Today you saw me for the first time in 477 days. Shock, surprise, awkwardness, repulsion, disgust, Avoidance, avoidance, avoidance.

Have I really repulsed you so much, That you can't bear to even look at me, When I'm standing right here, A few inches from you?

You’re looking at a wall, Instead of looking at me. I pass by you, but if you'd call, I know I’d crawl back to you, on my knees.

I had almost forgotten I was a corpse. Almost. Almost. Almost.

But you reminded me, now I’ll remember, Two corpses, one buries the other, Where I’ll burn your flesh, And your bones I’ll devour.

Now, you’re six feet under, Sometimes, I’ll come by to leave you flowers, But no more will I reminisce, nor wonder, “What would’ve happened if…” for hours.

I see that we hid behind Pride, All while Pride called us cowards. Tragically, we’re both to blame, For something beautiful between us that soured.

—Vera Pierre

[cillspropertea]

No Fucking Way

Chapter 3: Doughnuts

Warnings: None.

Y/N finds herself in a unique situation where her heart wants to believe everything but her mind wants her to repress herself to prevent heartbreak. The love of her life is miraculously close enough to touch but everything stops with the question, “Is any of this real?”

Authors note: I apologize beforehand to how medically incompatible this story will be, as I am not a professional doctor, just a fanfic writer with an idea she cannot contain in her head anymore. So, please, bear with me.😇😉

Looking forward to your feedback.✨✨

Word count: 1235

      We were on our way to the hotel Mom and Marie were staying at from the hospital. Cillian was driving the car, completely focused on the road. He had not tried to talk to me again after yesterday, or even tried to look at me. I did try to talk to him when he had returned with Mom in the evening but after calling his name I just couldn’t think of saying anything. What he had heard, must have hurt him. But I cannot deny the feeling in my heart that those words came from a place of honesty. I did feel like he was a stranger. The thought of all of this being real has settled inside of me like a pebble in deep waters.  

    Getting out of the hospital and into the car was a difficult task as somehow the media had found out about me waking up from the coma. After trying to get through the main door several times Cillian’s security had decided to get us out from the back entrance of the hospital. It was utter chaos. Especially when I was walking so danm slowly, not used to the stick I was advised to use for “a little while” at all. I had to get regular physiotherapy sessions and psycho- analysis sessions according to Doctor Benjamin and Doctor Sophia. But when Marie had told them how I wished to travel with them to Istanbul, with a disappointed look on her face, they had asked us to get some more tests done before that. Just to be sure that traveling wouldn’t be an issue. “The sessions would have been much more beneficial here as me and Dr. Sophia know about your case in so much detail Y/N. But if it really makes you feel better than its fine. You can go if the results come in clear.”. The results weren’t due till midnight. Their results determined if I could go tomorrow with my mother and sister or not. “I have a friend there. He’s really good. I’ll try and get a hold of him…” “That won’t be necessary Dr. Benjamin. The best psychologist of Turkey, Dr. Murat has been contacted already.” Cillian cut him off, without a single glance at me. “I did give him your contact information as he needed some certain tests results and details from the time of the accident. I hope you don’t mind.”

    It did hurt a bit. It was as if he couldn’t wait to get rid of me. He was done. Huh! So much for “true love” Marie keeps rambling about. I silently snorted.

   Marie sat quietly next to me with Mom in the front. She hadn’t talked to me much either. This was making me resent Cillian even more. Marie had always been my ally. My friend. We both stood against the world, by each other’s side, no matter what. How could she side with him like that? He had somehow turned her against me, and I was hating it. I was scowling at him when he caught me doing so through the mirror. I quickly looked away.

    Getting the stuff out, Cillian told the bell boy to take it up to the room. Mom hugged him good-bye, so did Marie. I got out but suddenly dizziness made me tumble a bit on my feet. Cillian rushed and caught my arm and shoulder, steadying me on my walking stick. His scent caught me off-guard. It felt so familiar. It was so sudden that I couldn’t stop myself from frowning at him for a moment. But as soon as he knew I wouldn’t get misbalanced on my feet again he let go. I knew things were about to get awkward. Was I supposed to hug him goodbye as well? Wouldn’t that be awkward after what he heard me say? ‘Fuck!’ So I did what I always did. I walked away, in to the hotel. Before anyone could see my heating face.

------

“Just give her some time Cillian, she will come around.” Marie pleaded. Cillian just shook his head, shoving both his hands in his front jeans pockets and shrugged, “I don’t know Marie.” He laughed, “I’ve never felt lonelier in my life. It’s worse than when she was in the coma, y’know. At least I could still call her mine.” He avoided looking at her face, “It’s as if she…” his voice broke, “…she isn’t even there.” Marie rubbed his shoulder reassuringly.

 “Don’t think like that Cill. She is yours. She’s always been yours. Y/N is just lost a bit. She just needs to find her way back. Just a little more patience.” Marie tried to convince him. He nodded, but she knew he did not mean it. Giving a depressive smile he sat in his car and drove away. Back to his home, once more without Y/N.

-------

    The hotel was huge. I followed the bell boy to the room without waiting for Mom and Marie. I knew they must be talking about me. How irritating I’d become, how uncompromising my behavior was, how I wasn’t even trying. What they don’t understand that I want everything to go back to normal more than anyone of them. But I cannot help it. As soon as I think too much about it, focus too much on the empty part of my mind, the hollow pain in my head returns. My mood swings had been getting worse too. One moment I was angry and then in the next I’d be crying my eyes out. But according to doc, it was part of the ‘process of healing’. They get worse when Cillian is around I’ve observed. I had to get a grip on them. I genuinely do not want to hurt him again.

      Sighing loudly I entered the door the bell boy had just unlocked and opened. It was a suite. 

 I noticed how it had nothing of Marie and Mom. “Here you are Mrs. Murphy. Please do take a tour of your room and if you need anything else, just let us know.” It had a lounge with intricate and delicate decorations. The suite was elegant with big windows and sunshine pouring in.. Walking in to the bedroom I took in the huge bed and a big, flat, rectangular box on it with ‘Joan’s’ written on it in cursive. Opening it up, I found a dozen cream filled donuts in it.

 The scent of which made me close my eyes for a bit. Wobbling on my stick I hurried back to the bell boy, “There are doughnuts in there.” I sounded angry for some god forsaken reason. The bell boy must think I had to be insane. A sane person can never get angry at food now could they? “Yes Ma’am. Mr. Murphy had made a special request to us to make them available. He said they are your favorites. They are form your favorite bakery.” I nodded. Walking back I opened the box and bit into the fattest cream filled doughnut I’d ever had. It was absolutely divine! The bite literally melted in my mouth. So my cheeky brain remembered the taste of my favorite doughnuts but forgot all the important stuff eh? .In the box, I saw there was a note as well. I read it after opening it up. ‘Just a reminder, Joan’s isn’t available in Istanbul.’  I but my lip to stop myself from smiling but I failed.

[bitacrytic]

Overheat [28/29]

Read Previous Chapter Here

-

When he heard the door to his room open and close, something broke inside of Vegas. Because of course Pete wouldn’t beg. He wouldn’t stoop so low.

To him, Vegas was never worth the trouble anyway.

-

-

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Pete walked into the minor mansion with the ever-present feeling of dread. Porsche had promised his apology to Vegas’ father but Pete hadn’t gotten around to it just yet. He wondered what would happen if that man saw Pete now, if he looked out a window and saw Pete walking into his home without an escort, without Vegas, without an apology.

If he could, Pete would have offered it sooner. But he had other things on his mind as he let himself into Vegas’ wing, closing the door to the corridor gently as he made his way to the dungeon.

“Vegas has my man,” Wan had said when he called Pete. “Get him out of there.”

It was a test. It had to be. Pete had listened to the twenty hours he’d sent. The very same twenty hours that had led to the capture of one of Wan’s men. Vegas set him up and it had yielded fruits. Even Vegas had said so when he’d come to find Pete. He had a man in his dungeon that he was torturing for information and he wasn’t getting anywhere with him.

If the recording had been a trap, Wan would know by now and this little, not-so-little request had to be a test to see if Pete was still loyal. If Pete had had a say, he would have asked Vegas to not be so obvious. They’d had one chance to fool Wan and they’d failed. And now, Pete was the one bearing the consequences.

“What do you expect me to do?” Pete had asked.

“I don’t know,” Wan replied. “You don’t have to do anything. You can watch your career go down the drain when our lovely home video is uploaded for the whole country to see.”

Pete hesitated when he got to the dungeon door. The last time he’d been here, he’d been dragged in, his knee knocking against the frame as his ankle toe knocked against the sharp divider on the ground. Khun-Kun had been ruthless, taking Pete by the hair as he slammed his face into a wall and everything went dark.

When he’d awoken, he was strung up, dangling from the ceiling, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer pants. His jaw was swollen, one eye couldn’t open and the skin on his chest and back hurt like they’d been flogged till he peeled. He’d been unconscious for most of it. But that didn’t stop Khun-Kun when he realized Pete was, once again, conscious.

Pete opened the door and peeped into the dimly lit room. Entering in, he gently closed the door. With every step he took, he couldn’t help walking the path his unwilling body had taken, while he was dragged in here. A reminder that Vegas was cut from unfriendly stock. Pete had been fucking with a man who was capable of just as much as his father was, if not more.

Closing his eyes to bring some peace to his mind, Pete focused on why he’d come. The pillars in the dungeon hide most corners, but by the time he came around the second one, he found a man seated in a metal chair, his hands and feet bound to the ground, where spikes from the binds grazed against his skin. He was just as naked as Pete had been. He’d bled onto the floor, with his head hanging over his chest as spit drooled from his mouth.

And this… this wasn’t Khun-Kun’s doing. This was all Vegas. This was the doing of the man Pete had casually fucked to get information. Once again, he was reminded of just how screwed he could have been if Vegas wasn’t being so lenient with him.

Without wasting time, Pete found a bunch of keys hanging on the wall and went to the man’s foot to unlock the first ankle. The clanging of the keys startled him into consciousness as he tried to shift away.

“Shhhh,” Pete said. “Please be quiet.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” the man said, bitingly as he flinched in pain.

“I’m here to help you,” Pete whispered, raising the keys to the man’s eye level.

As his eyes moved from the key to Pete’s face, they widened in shock.

“Pete Saengthem?” he asked.

“Wan sent me.”

“Oh thank god,” he said. “Get me out of here.”

Trying to steady his hands, Pete found the first key for the first lock.

“How did they capture you?”

“You gave us false info,” he accused.

“It’s from the same source as everything else I’ve ever given you,” Pete said, unwilling to reveal that he’d been compromised. If he did, he wouldn't be useful anymore. If he wasn’t useful, Wan would release that video.

“Then you’ve been made,” the man said as his second foot was unlocked.

“No, I haven’t.”

The man stamped his foot and Pete looked up at him in surprise.

“If he hasn’t confronted you about it, it’s because he wants to feed us fake information. You’re compromised.”

It was foolish to keep arguing this point, because even Wan seemed to think so. If Pete wanted to survive, he had to come at this from another angle.

“What do I do?” Pete asked, mouth hanging open in feigned fear. “If he knows… if he gave me false info, then I’m… I’m not safe here. I can’t come back here.”

The man grabbed Pete’s face with his only free hand that was covered in scabs and dried blood.

“You have to stay.”

“My life is in danger-”

“Wan needs you. You must stay, or else.”

One problem solved , Pete thought as he nodded, looking into the face of a man that was attempting to sacrifice Pete for his own objectives. When Pete unlocked his second hand, the man flexed his fingers, flinching with every single bit of movement.

“Here,” Pete said, picking one of Vegas’ leather coats from the wall. “Cover yourself with this and follow me.”

Carefully, following the hidden door at the end of the corridor, Pete led the man through the green-walled tunnel that he’d been shown. He remembered coming to confront Vegas and forcing Vegas to see him. He’d been so sure Vegas would punch him or shoot him, but Vegas had reacted frantically, asking the guard at the gate to bring Pete in through this secret tunnel so that his father wouldn’t see Pete. He’d been trying to protect Pete.

Even as he was mad and betrayed, he didn’t want to see Pete suffer.

As they got to the mouth of the tunnel, Pete turned in the direction of a round, metal gate that didn’t lead to the main gate. Retrieving the keys, he opened up the gate for the man. When he moved to leave, Pete stopped him.

“I’m risking my life here,” he said.

“I know.”

“You’re asking me to stay in danger,” he said. “I hope Wan knows this.”

“I’ll let him know.” As he walked through the gate, he turned to Pete. “Thank you.”

“Go,” Pete said, as the man walked into the night, disappearing into the bushes beyond the gate.

He’d done his part. Wan wanted his man back. They knew his cover was blown, but he was, at least, still useful.

At least, Pete hoped, he was still useful enough to keep his secrets secret.

***

After he’d locked up the gate and made his way back through the tunnel, he let himself into Vegas’ room. As he closed the door, he rested against the frame, tired, worn out and even if he didn’t want to admit it, a little afraid.

Bracing himself, he pushed away from the door. Any moment spent in Vegas’ presence, had become a source of discomfort. Where they’d found companionship in the past, Pete found nothing but hesitation and physical avoidance. At least Vegas was talking to him again. Vegas was seeking him out, asking him about Wan. At least Pete could take solace in that. But beyond that, there was nothing else.

Moving close to where Vegas stood at his desk with his back to the door. He’d turned his laptop around to face him.

“How’s it going?” Pete asked, peeking over Vegas’ shoulder.

“It’s alright,” Vegas said with a shrug.

Pete stood beside him, looking down at the video footage on the screen of Vegas’ laptop. It was a very shaky camera, galloping from side to side as if attached to the collar of a person’s clothing. The camera was moving quickly through the dark evening, stopping only when the sounds of other people could be heard, before he started moving again.

When Pete looked away from the laptop, he found Vegas watching him, intently. Going red from head to toe, Pete forced himself not to look away. Having Vegas’ attention was a rare occurrence, these days. He wanted to bask in it, a little. He wanted to let him remind him of when things were good and easy between them.

“What?” Pete inquired, carefully.

“I don’t know what to think of you when you lie so easily.”

Unable to hold Vegas’ gaze, Pete blinked, looking up at the ceiling.

“What was I supposed to do?” he asked.

“Exactly what you did,” Vegas replied. “You sold the lie to him and now he’s going back to Wan with a coat that has a camera on the collar.” Vegas gestured at the footage before them of the man who was still running through the woods.

“Then why are you saying it like I did something wrong?” Pete could stop frustration from seeping into his voice. “Why are you-”

“Because I’m not supposed to have people around me who can lie better than I can.”

Pete laughed, looking away as he wiped away the wetness gathering in his eyes.

“I only did what you asked me to. If you can’t trust me, why am I here?”

“Because I need you.”

“Right,” Pete said, putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Since I’ve done what you needed , I’ll see myself out.”

As he turned to go, Vegas held him by the neck, pulling Pete to him in a hard, clashing kiss. Excellent reader of people that Pete was, he hadn’t seen that coming. He didn’t understand how Vegas had gone from avoiding him, to staring at him to kissing him so desperately in the span of a few seconds.

Pulling away, Pete wanted to clear his head. Assess the situation. Ask Vegas what the fuck was going on. But as he pulled away, Vegas went right to him, keeping their lips locked as he slipped his tongue right into Pete’s mouth, fingers threading through Pete’s hair at the base of his neck. A soft reminder of Vegas’ loving caress.

Unable to help himself, Pete melted into the kiss, wrapping his hands around Vegas and allowing himself to have this. He didn’t have to think about it. He’d obsessed over it enough for weeks now. He’d missed this, longed for it, wished that Vegas would spare him a tiny glance.

And now that Vegas had given him this much, Pete was going to take anything he could get.

At least until Vegas was shaken back to his senses and remembered that he didn’t want Pete anywhere near him anymore.

-

-

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Vegas moaned, sucking on Pete’s lips as Pete’s shock drained right out of his body. When Pete kissed his jaw, moving down to Vegas’ neck, he had to bite his lips to keep from saying Pete’s name. He was desperate for Pete’s touch, but it hadn’t been so long that he was ready to abandon all reason and call on Pete like a weak-kneed fool. It was enough that he was hard and aching and keening right into Pete’s hands, as it was.

When Pete started fussing at Vegas’ belt, Vegas helped, trying his best to get out of his jeans just so Pete could do whatever he wanted to do. Vegas hadn’t been abstaining. He’d been fucking other men in the time since he’d stayed away from Pete. But none of them had managed to ignite this feeling of helpless lust, to the point that Vegas was sure he’d lose his mind if Pete stopped touching him.

And yet, even with how good it felt, there was a sharp, painful tugging at Vegas’ chest. Every time he looked down at the man before him, Vegas wanted to cry. How he’d let himself be fooled into falling for someone who saw him as nothing but means to an end. Pete had been so easy. He’d been so accepting of everything Vegas was. He’d offered himself up on a platter.

Only because someone was threatening him. He’d come on to Vegas, because there was a gun to his head. And Vegas had fallen for it, quickly and everlastingly, to the point that he couldn't function if he didn’t talk to Pete in days.

And it had all been a lie.

Pete lied for a living. He’d knelt at that prisoner’s feet, feigned fear, pretended to be shocked and made the man think that he was smarter.

Just as he’d done to Vegas. Just as he was probably doing to Vegas, at the moment. Maybe Vegas had kissed him first, but how was he to know Pete hadn’t willingly pushed him to the point that he couldn't’ hold back? How could he trust anything Pete did? But also, even with all that in mind, how could he quit Pete?

Unable to stand the confusion, Vegas turned to his desk, hands quivering, fighting to control himself. As his jeans pooled around his ankle, Pete stood behind him, kissing him on the neck, unbuttoning Vegas’ shirt. He knew just how to touch Vegas. He knew how to make him ache with want as he waited eagerly for every kiss on his neck, every lick on his shoulder. With his shirt gone, Vegas’ back was exposed, open to the enemy.

If Pete was pretending, he was more deadly than Vegas knew. Because he sounded just as weak, just as desperate, moaning in Vegas’ ear, urgently moving against him, his dick digging into the small of Vegas’ back as he struggled to rid himself of clothing. Vegas couldn’t see his face. Didn’t want to. But with the way Pete was whispering his name, touching him, lifting Vegas’ bent knee onto the desk for better access as he spit in his hands to prep Vegas, Vegas had to believe that this bit… this moment… was genuine.

Curious as he was to see, to witness Pete’s lust again, Vegas didn’t have it in himself to turn around. He loved it when Pete touched him, when Pete pressed down on his back, putting Vegas over the desk as he eased into him. This way, he could tell himself that it wasn’t Pete. That even though he knew those soft hands, they weren’t Pete’s. That Vegas was with a client. Vegas was anywhere else than where he currently was… with someone else than who he was with.

Opening up, loving every bit of it, Vegas bit his lips to keep from uttering the name that was dying to fall from his mouth. He couldn't do that. Not now. Not anymore. It was bad enough that he was whimpering against his own desk, his dick hard and dripping like he was seconds away from cumming even though Pete hadn’t even yet gotten to his dick.

Stretched, as Pete moved in and out, friction biting and exciting Vegas as tears sprung to his eyes, he held onto the desk. Maybe it was because it had been too long. Maybe because every other partner had been mediocre at best, but with Pete, Vegas was beyond his understanding, unable to know why his touch sparked such desire and broken need in Vegas. Even when Vegas knew that he should know better.

As they rocked together, moaning against the desk, Vegas was trying his best to hold on to his senses, but when Pete reached around to take hold of his dick, Vegas moaned, cumming in Pete’s hand as he set a steady pace, moving Vegas between his dick and his hand as he hit the right spot, just as Vegas’ dick slid into his welcoming palm.

“Oh god,” Vegas said, finally letting go of his bleeding lip. “Oh Pe-uhh!”

Pete fucked it right out of him, jerking him off till Vegas had nothing left. And still he continued, fucking him, cumming in him in a quiet hiss as his hand tightened on both Vegas’ waist and his dick.

In the static silence that followed, both their breaths were the only things that could be heard. With the tension in his body easing out, Vegas wondered where to go. Whenever they fucked, they tended to go multiple rounds, alternating between each other. But now, they’d both cum and Pete didn’t seem to want to leave.

Vegas didn’t want him to leave.

He didn’t know how to say that. He didn’t want to say that. Pete wasn’t welcome in Vegas’ bed. People he didn’t trust didn’t get into his bed.

Usually, they never showered till they had fucked for so long that Pete convinced Vegas to fall asleep, while Pete spoke to him in soft, calm tones, stroking Vegas’ hair, till all he knew was the sweet embrace of oblivion. His body had grown so accustomed to fucking Pete and receiving his softness. Fucking Pete and being pampered like a sleepy child, not like the adult man who’d just done very adult things.

In that moment, a part of him wished Pete would pull him towards the bed, get under the covers and shush him till he fell asleep. He was so wrung out that he almost asked for it, almost turned around to look at Pete and beg that Pete treat him as he’d always done.

Gently getting up from the desk, he pushed Pete away.

“I have to shower,” he said, as he made his way straight to the bathroom.

Too weak to stand, he sat in the mini-jacuzzi as the warm water filled in, wishing he’d let Pete touch him some more. He pulled his knees close, hugging himself as the water rose and rose, slow and pattering, a dry solace to his raging thoughts. When he heard the door to his room open and close, he sighed, resting his head back on the marbled pavement. Because of course Pete wouldn’t beg. He wouldn’t stoop so low. To him, Vegas was never worth the trouble anyway.

When the bathroom door opened, Vegas was too weak to react that all he could do was look up. Everything faded away into nothingness as he stared into Pete’s eyes, as if for the first time. The lying idiot hadn’t left. For all his smartness, he couldn’t take a hint and realize that Vegas didn’t want him to be there.

“Tell me to go and I’ll go,” Pete said, standing there with his hand on the ajar door.

Vegas couldn't open his mouth. His entire body was frozen in place, fighting with itself to choose which he wanted. But then again, that was nothing new when it came to Pete. There were always two options. Vegas had known this since that first day at camp when Pete had eavesdropped on his phone call.

Try as he might to put all the blame in Pete’s lap, Vegas had always had a choice. To see Pete or not to see Pete. To want him or not to want him. To believe his lies or not to believe. Vegas had made the choice, time and time again. Not that he’d done it blindly or ignorantly, no. He’d seen the red flags but he’d chosen to love the color rather than run away.

Gently, as if afraid he’d spook a skittish animal, Pete closed the door while he kicked off his sneakers. Tightening his hands around his knees, Vegas watched Pete take off his clothes and fold them onto the basket in the corner, before he approached.

“May I?” he asked, just as he got to the jacuzzi.

For all the reasons in the world, Vegas didn’t understand why his head nodded slightly. Pete seemed to take that as permission, stepping in and sitting with his shoulder to Vegas’ shoulder.

They’d never stayed this way before. Either Vegas was behind Pete or Pete was behind him. Or one of them had their back to the wall while the other faced them, sitting in the other’s lap. But this way? It felt awkward just sitting there with Pete by his side, as the pulsing water rose around them.

Sighing, Vegas dared to move a little closer. He didn’t think he was ready to be wrapped in Pete’s arms just yet. But he could take a little bit of contact. So he dropped his head on Pete’s shoulder, closing his eyes as the tension in his body he hadn’t even known was still there seeped right out. Moaning at the feeling, he turned till his forehead was on Pete’s shoulder, inhaling Pete’s skin, missing him even though he was right there.

“Can I…” Pete began. “Can I hold you?”

Vegas wanted it more than anything he could think of. He wished he didn’t. But his body had learned to crave more than just sex from the man sitting stiffly beside him. When Pete turned around, opening his arms, Vegas went to him, head resting on Pete’s chest as their legs got tangled up together till Pete’s ended up above Vegas’, with Pete almost in Vegas’ lap.

And there it was. The feeling that everything was far away, outside the bathroom, beyond the walls. Just the two of them, sitting in water, listening to nothing but each other’s heartbeats as Vegas tried to let go, tried to find what it was he’d always had with Pete.

As his breathing calmed, with Pete gently stroking Vegas’ hair, he had no idea what was happening, but a few minutes later, Vegas drifted off into oblivion.