#cooper is hyperventilating

[dalesangeldoe]

my pookies hanging out in the cellblock

[realredbanana]

shoutout to crying at nearly 11pm because Executive Functioning has the audacity not to fucking Function.

[tehshelaroxx]

Back when I was in middle school, my family and I would frequent a local flea market on the weekend, almost every single weekend. I'll never forget coming across the Art Asylum doll of Alice Cooper that played "Welcome to My Nightmare" and becoming entranced. My dad and the seller bargained until we finally paid around $20 for it, which kickstarted a lifelong obsession with Alice Cooper. I still have the doll btw but he's no longer in box lol

When the pandemic was happening, Alice came close by and I wanted to see him so bad but that didn't pan out. But today, that's all about to change. I love this man with my life and now that the day has came I'm freaking out. Who else can say their first concert ever was rock legends Alice Cooper and Rob Zombie???? Now that the day has arrived I AM PANICKING but so very excited!!!! Another dream come true in due time. 💜🖤

[littlelovelunette]

Headcanons

When they take your virginity (ft. Sevika & Vi)

Contains smut

Sevika

Asks you if you're ready atleast a hundred times, Sevika is generally scared of hurting you and when it comes to intercourse she's even more paranoid than normal times.

"You're tensing up, are you sure you're ready?" She'll ask every once in a while, rubbing your back to attempt to soothe your tension away.

Feels guilty when seeing you in so much pain, and if you bleed due to your hymen breaking— prepare to see full aggressive passion and mama bear Sevika. She'll coddle the fuck out of you and ensure you're safe and sound.

Sevika is so gentle, you're shocked because she seems like a completely different person when she's being so damn gentle and nice to you in bed.

Doesn't force you or roughly take your virginity like most expect Sevika to, she takes her time with it and is gentle throughout the entire process.

She'll ask if you're okay every once in a while, hug you tightly or even give you forehead kisses.

When you jerk and pull away once she's deep in you, Sevika will give you a moment before asking whether you want to continue or not. Depending on your answer she'll cooperate.

If you want to continue, she will.

If you don't want to continue, she'll tell you it's okay, get you food, drinks, cuddles, a warm bath— whatever you ask of her. She'll get you it.

Vi

The most paranoid person on the planet; Vi's always scared she'll hurt you even before she's inside

"Baby, does this hurt too much?" "Let's try something smaller?" "Love, are you really okay?"

Flinch a little and she'll immediately pull out and apologise for hurting you, bringing you in for a hug instantly

Vi will literally hyperventilate if you bleed a little much when your hymen breaks unless you tell her it's okay or something

Vi always has a dumb side in her brain telling her to bandage your pussy up after she's done taking your virginity

If you cry, she'll cry with you

"Baby! You're bleeding!" Vi will gasp and try to pull out but you try to have her fuck you anyway

Once you really get hurt and cry, Vi will have tears in her eyes because she feels so guilty for hurting you but baby will still pick you up and cradle you in her chest, cooing and saying, "It's okay, baby... It's okay..."

Vi will make sure you get all the princess treatment in the world after she's done with you; bubble baths to having your fruits completely peeled for you to eat.

Do remember to tell Vi she didn't intentionally hurt you or she'll cry to sleep

[uhhhj13iguess]

kiss it better

stiles x reader

wc: ~1k

like the stydia kiss in season three when stiles is having a panic attack, except you're the one panicking and he kisses you!

obviously details a panic attack so trigger warning for that

masterlist and taglist!

"(y/n)?"

stiles knocked softly on your door, frowning at the lack of response. he called your name a few more times to no avail, slowly opening the bedroom door with a deep breath. he called out your name again, sounding his presence before even looking in the room. was he concerned you were unresponsive because you were dead? yes. but he was still a man of respect.

his heart grew heavy in his chest as his eyes fell on your frame. you sat on your window sill, legs curled to your chest and a heavy blanket wrapped around your figure as you balanced on the ledge of the open window. not in a concerning way, stiles decided. you didn't appear ready to jump, but rather more... pensive. he couldn't see much of your face, as you overlooked the activity on the street below, but he could hear you crying. the entire scene was gut-wrenching to him.

you, on the other hand, considered it pathetic.

you didn't hear stiles entering your room, lost in your own world as tears stained your cheeks. your once racing thoughts had been numbed by feelings of dissociation, no longer having the energy to even ruminate anymore. you pulled your weighted blanket tighter around your body, hoping at this point it would just crush you and swallow you whole. you nearly fell out the window at the sound of stiles calling out your name.

"... (y/n)?

you turned to face him, and you swore he almost looked as sad as you did.

he stepped hesitantly into the room. "i'm sorry, i, we just, we haven't h-heard from you all day. are you... are you okay?"

the fatal question.

as soon as the words came out of his mouth, you choked out a sob. the emotions you had detached yourself from came flooding back into your system, and you lost control.

you couldn't breathe. you couldn't think, yet that was somehow all you were able to do — no words would come out no matter how hard you tried. stiles ran to your side immediately, pulling you from the window and onto the ground.

"shit, hey hey, okay hey, stay with me (y/n)," he tugged you against his chest, holding you as tight as he possibly could as if he was afraid you'd run. as if you had that kind of control over your body in this moment.

you felt yourself beginning to hyperventilate, no longer feeling like you could get any oxygen into your lungs. it made you panic more, and while you knew stiles was talking to you, begging for your attention, you just couldn't seem to pull out of it.

"hey, everything's okay. j-just, uh just try to slow down your breathing, come on,"

everything was overwhelming again. you felt like you were in a trance — and it was absolute hell. you needed to snap out of it. you screamed in your head, begging, pleading with your brain to think rationally.

it's no use, you thought. i'm fucking stuck like this forever.

stiles didn't know what to do. he'd dealt with his own panic attacks before, but seeing you in one short-circuited his brain. he was panicking himself, the thought of you hurting this badly physically bringing him pain. he pulled you off his chest, trying to get you to look in his eyes. trying to pull you out of it.

"(y/n), please, i need you to listen to me,"

"please, just please look at me,"

"i need you to breathe, please, i need you to listen to me. you're right here with me, you're safe. whatever this is, i, i-it's okay, i promise, just, please,"

there was nothing you wanted more than to cooperate, but you weren't in control anymore. you sobbed harder, feeling defeated.

stiles' breathing was getting quicker too, feeling helpless. he just needed you to hear him, to come back to the present. he needed you to breathe, he really needed you to breathe, he just —

his lips hit yours with a force, silencing your mind in an instant. your eyes widened as you felt him against you, his hands pressing on either side of your face, holding you close to him. you saw his eyes squeezed shut tightly. you felt his choppy exhale against your face. you could smell his cologne. you could hear your stereo playing softly in the background. suddenly, you were here again — present.

your eyes fluttered closed and stiles let out a sigh into your mouth as he finally felt you relax against him. he held there for a moment, his soft lips on your chapped and swollen ones, lightly running his fingers through your hair as he felt your body begin to calm down. you let out a shaky exhale through your nose as you laid a hand against his chest, and he knew you had come back down to earth.

he pulled back slowly, his eyes opening to lock with yours. your lips remained slightly parted, shaky breaths coming out at a much slower pace than just moments before. you both just sat there, inches from one another, and your eyebrows furrowed as you took in what just happened. his eyes flickered down to your lips, causing him to lick his own subconsciously.

stiles spoke first. "i, um,"

"i read somewhere once, that, holding your breath can help stop a panic attack,"

he paused for a moment to clear his throat. "so, when I kissed you, you, uh, you held your breath."

"oh,"

"yeah,"

"i did?"

he nodded slowly with pursed lips, shaky breath escaping his mouth. "yeah,"

you nodded slowly, feeling your heart rate return to normal for what felt like the first time in days. you leaned back slightly, taking in his whole frame. you took a deep breath, butterflies beginning to replace the sickly feeling in your stomach. "thank you,"

"no problem,"

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Of Ghouls and Drugs

Request: "ok so I'm absolutely obsessed with that coop fic you did where reader helps him when he's injured and it's super domestic and fluffy....could you maybe do something where the roles are reversed and he helps the reader who's injured? maybe she's a little shaken up over it too and he calms her down and it's just very sweet and soft. thank you i adore your writing so much 💖" A/N: First of all, the reception of my Fallout content has been amazing. If you're one of the people who have liked/reblogged/replied/shared/saved/etc, I am eternally grateful to you. Second, thank you once again to the anon who sent this request! It's a bit of a switcharoo from Stuck Like Glue, so if you need some more Cooper content, check that out or take a peek at my Fallout Masterlist! Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence Summary: Injured and scared, you can always count on your Cowboy to save the day.

Word Count: 1.7k+

(Gif Credit to @victoryrifle)

You don’t know why you’re hyperventilating. 

Sure, you’d been in countless fights and been scared more times than you can remember. In the Wasteland, if you’re not scared every now and again, you’re dead. But today, cornered in a decrepit open-air shopping mall store while a hoard of feral ghouls claw at the rusty security gate, you’re frozen with fear. 

It was an old clothing store, picked apart by scavengers and ravaged by time. Everything was covered in a thick blanket of dust, from the old checkout counter to the racks of high heels that sit untouched. Unfortunately for you, it hadn’t been a department store you ducked into where there could be some hope of escape. This one was a small boutique-type outlet with one way in and one impassable way out. Furthermore, the roll-down security door currently saving your life had been pure luck on your part. The lever for it was broken off and mounted on the side of the entrance; you’d only found it after the damn thing had torn your upper arm to shreds in your haste to get away. 

And now you’re ducked behind the checkout counter, old patterned men’s tie wrapped tightly around your bicep in a poor excuse of a tourniquet. You were out of ammo, banking on the security gate holding until the ghouls got bored or forgot about you. But there was something about today, about how they’d come charging from the darkness the second Cooper had left to turn in your latest bounty, that terrified you. Feral ghouls were shells of people with no logic or sense left in them, but the attack had felt calculated, planned. You argued with yourself, knowing they had basic instinct and probably just singled you out after another of their kind left.

Then again, maybe you’re conflating your fear of Cooper becoming one of them one day with the looming fear of death. 

Unable to do anything about it, you sit behind the counter and shake. Your breath comes in quick punches, inhales cutting off the exhales and vice versa. The iron smell of your own blood is overwhelming. Despite the tourniquet, warm liquid leaks down your arm and drips into a thick crimson puddle beneath you. Your backpack, full of stimpaks and every chem known to man, is abandoned just outside the gate. The damn thing had been torn away when you’d got caught on the jagged lever, beyond your reach and unable to be saved. 

The ghouls wail and groan while clawing at the gate, the sound of rattling metal echoing around the store’s walls. It’s deafening to the point where you cover your ears, accepting the fact that you’re screwed either way. Blood loss or ghoul attack, it doesn’t matter. Cooper’s long gone towards the last town, and you’re cursing the apparently lackluster job the two of you did making sure your camp was secure. 

“Take a look around.” He’d told you, “Getch’yu some new clothes if you need ‘em.”

Cooper’s voice and kiss goodbye lingers in your thoughts as you hold your hands over your ears. It’s a more pleasant thought than the ghouls outside. Your ghoul always keeps you safe. 

“Darlin’.” 

You almost smile to yourself, probably delusional from blood loss. 

“Hey!”

Your name slipping out of Cooper’s mouth dances across your foggy mind. 

“Goddamn it woman, open your eyes.” 

Something shakes your whole body, and your eyes snap open. 

At first it’s too dark for you to recognize any solid features, and you scramble away. The missing nose and scarred flesh blend together in your mind. You swing your injured arm in blind panic, which has the tourniquet breaking loose and bright arterial blood spattering the floor.

But you hear a voice calling through the haze. Soft and slow, like it’s calling to a wounded animal. “Ay, ay ay. Calm down now, sweetheart.”

You squint through the darkness, fighting dizziness. A familiar silhouette makes itself apparent. 

“Cooper?”

His face, weathered by radiation and pain, is usually twisted into a dramatic scowl. But right now it’s concerned, brow furrowed into worry that you’d never seen. The sounds of ghouls and impending doom have vanished. 

“It’s me, babydoll.” He almost coos at you, reaching out a hand. “C’mere.”

Your emotions rage, and tears burn at your eyes. You reach out a hand and brush the one he’s holding out, but your fingertips barely catch on the seam of his gloves.  You squeeze to make sure he’s real. He wraps strong fingers around your wrist and pulls you in. 

It’s easy to give in as his familiar scent and feel washes over you. Gunpowder and smoke are the main notes, but you catch the leather of his duster and the unavoidable grime provided by the Wasteland. The tears flow easily out the corner of your eyes and drip down your cheek.

“I-I don’t know where they came from.” You clutch at his coat, “Scared the hell out of me.”

Cooper is still moving despite you being all but wrapped around him where he’s knelt down. You feel his hands near your injured arm and instinctively cower. 

“Came from somewhere in that back parking lot, it looks like.” Cooper grits in his usual gruff tone, “Must’a got ‘em goin’ when they heard us. Waited ‘til you were alone.”

You sniffle pathetically into his coat, and it morphs into a strangled cry as he wraps the tie back around your arm. His other hand holds a broken piece of wood that he uses to knot into the fabric and twist. 

“Ah! Fucking hell, Coop!” Your protest is little more than a whine as your arm starts to go numb. 

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs, tipping his head back so he’s able to look in your eyes. “Don’t want ya to bleed out here.” 

You hold his gaze for a moment. “Why’d you come back?”

He helps you stand, giving you a moment to lean back against the counter and acclimate to the dizziness. Your eyes hold steady on him, watching lashless eyelids blink above gaunt cheeks.

“Vials.” He hooks an arm around your shoulders and the other behind your knees and lifts you up, “I wanted to have enough in case I got caught up.”

The slow cadence of Cooper’s walk almost lulls you into closing your eyes and he trudges silently to the shop’s entrance. You see gore splattered on the walls and floor, headless ghouls lying motionless at his feet. The top handle of your backpack is sticking out of the mess, and Cooper snatches it up. 

He walks for some distance, away from the pile of dispatched ghouls. He doesn’t stop until you come up on a store a ways away, advertising furniture and televisions. It seemed relatively untouched considering an atomic war and a two-hundred year wait. The Ghoul moves near the door, and you hear him clanking about with the lock. It takes a few tries and muttered curses, but Cooper jimmies it enough so he can get a toe nudged in the door. You attempt to help by grabbing the door, but he moves your hand back to his shoulder and pushes in on his own.

Cooper sets you gently on a shockingly clean and padded couch. The Ghoul is quiet, but gets to work cleaning the long gash in your arm. He gives you his inhaler, but there’s a strange canister clicked into the mechanism rather than his vial. You take a huff, and gag at the strong taste. 

“H-Holy Shit.” You cough, and it almost distracts you from the pain of a stimpak being stabbed into your wound. “What is that?”

Cooper unties the tourniquet when he’s satisfied, and sets the stimpak off to the side. “Med-X. Inhalin' it works faster.”

You nod and huff on his inhaler again. The Med-X is potent as all hell, and it feels like it’s shooting straight to your brain. You’re more willing, desperate for more as the effects set in. Cooper settles himself on the cushions beside you, watching carefully and taking away the inhaler before you overdose yourself. 

“I’m sorry for bein’ stupid.” You murmur. “I shoulda ran anywhere but there.”

Cooper leans in, ungloved hand cupping the side of your neck and tilting back. “Never apologize for survivin’, sugar.”

The drugs swirling about in your brain make it hard to form normal sentences. “I wouldn’t have without you… I hurt my arm and lost my cool.”

He tries to talk, but you  shush him.

“I couldn’t quit thinkin’ about those ghouls… about you.” 

Cooper sighs and wraps an arm around your shoulders. He pulls you in close and shushes the soft cries that creep up your throat, fueled by a drug-induced haze. 

“Y’know… There’s always somethin’ that’s gonna make us lose it.” Cooper drums his fingers on your forearms. “No matter how tough we might be.”

You feel his lips in your hair and lean into it. “Guess I gotta trust that, ‘cause you’re pretty tough.”

Unbeknownst to you, your words are already comically slurred. Cooper chuckles into the bird’s nest on your head. 

“Feelin’ that Med-X, honey?” 

You swear to god, it’s gotta be that drawl that’s honey, not the drugs.

“Jus-Just a little.” You slump further into his side, head dropping onto his chest. He uses the tip of his boot to drag a nearby footrest closer and prop his feet up. 

“Good. Time for a nap.” Cooper tilts his hat down over his eyes. 

You hum, unable to argue. A nap sounds rather splendid, especially with the amount of drugs circulating your body. You glance up just as the Ghouls huffs down the rest of the Med-X himself. 

“Coop!” You try to chastise him, but it comes out as more of a laugh. “That’s not safe. You don’t need that right now.”

The Ghoul grumbles something that sure sounds like ‘goody two-shoes’, but reigns in the hostility, 

“Sure I do.” His hand rubs up and down your arm before finding its way to your waist. “I’m an old fuckin’ man. Joint pain.”

“Joint pain, schmoint pain.” You mock, eyes falling shut and staying that way. “Fuckin’ old man.”

Cooper actually chuffs at your remark and ducks to press a kiss to your forehead. It’s unexpected and sweet to feel such affection from him, and combines with the euphoric feeling of opioids pulsing through your brain.

“Go to bed, darlin’. Before I knock you out myself.”

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[curlyboys]

"Exhaustion" for type it Tuesday?

this is what happens before the hurt/comfort bath scene fic.. 👀🛁

It's been a week since Bobby's funeral. Eddie's gone back to Texas, at least for now, and Tommy came over for dinner. Because that's something they do now.

As friends.

As whatever Evan needs.

He gave Evan some space to make some calls while he took time cleaning the kitchen—

When a commotion down the hall has him rushing to Evan's bedroom to find him in a state of distraught, teary-eyed and on the brink of hyperventilating.

"Evan–"

"Everyone.. leaves me.."

Tommy's battered heart snapped in two the morning he walked out. The pieces cut into him as he watched Evan break down on that monitor and they're pressing into lungs, trying to carve out of ribcage to be closer to Evan.

"My parents.. Maddie.. Eddie.. Bobby.." Evan's breathing is harsh and too fast, his gaze unfocused as he shifts on the carpet, phone clenched in his hand.

Logically, Tommy knows the losses he speaks of aren't all on the same wavelength: Maddie is in his life now, his parents are making a concerted effort last he knew, Eddie chose to put his kid first, and Bobby..

“..You..” Evan gasps out, and it takes a second for Tommy to orient and realise what he's saying.

He snaps out of it and rushes to Evan's side where he's crumpled between the dresser and the closet, looking smaller than Tommy's ever seen him.

“Evan..” He can't help his hands going to steady Evan's shoulder and gently guide his jaw up. “I'm here– I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere.” It's true. There's simply no way he could walk out of Evan's life again, no matter what they are to each other.

No matter how closed off Evan's been since the funeral, how he didn't seem to trust Tommy with the vulnerable parts of himself anymore - which is fair enough.

It's almost a relief to see behind the facade Evan's been holding up for everyone, not just for him, even as he lists forward and collapses against Tommy, lets himself fall apart in Tommy's arms.

He wants to be this for Evan, be here for him like this. It's a heartbreaking honor, and it's been so surreal: watching Evan seal off his emotions, this man who Tommy has known to always wear them on his sleeve.

Evan fights briefly between pulling away and pushing closer into Tommy's space, smashing his face into Tommy's chest as ugly sobs tear through him.

Tommy holds him tight as he garbles out something that sounds like, "Please don't leave."

The remnant shards of Tommy's heart turn inwards and scrape him up for good measure.

He drops a kiss into Evan's curls. “I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart.. I'm right here.. I got you.. I got you..”

It's a promise. Tommy holds him, gently rocking him through the heaving sobs until eventually they quiet into hiccups and sniffles, breaths slowing and evening out. Tommy rubs a soothing hand up and down his back.

"Bed?" Tommy asks, exhaustion likely setting in.

But he surprises Tommy, shaking his head and muttering, “Bath?” into damp fabric, breath warm over his clavicle, voice wrung out from grief.

“Of course. C’mon.”

Tommy helps Evan to his feet and together they stumble towards the bathroom. Tommy gets him seated, slumped on the closed lid of the toilet while he sets about filling the tub.

He helps Evan out of his shirt as his grip falters and muscles struggle to cooperate, and it earns him a greatful look, eyes red-rimmed and wide with sadness.

Evan plants a hand on Tommy's chest, fists the fabric a little to steady himself as he lowers himself into the tub, Tommy's hand ready to catch him if he needs it.

There's no more he can do so he turns to leave as Evan sinks into the water–

"Stay," comes Evan's voice, scraped raw and quiet but sounding so determined. It's not a question, it's a demand.

Tommy looks back to see Evan staring at him, need laid bare.

So, Tommy pulls up the little stool and takes Evan's hand where he's reached over the edge of the tub. "Okay."

[breedtobreathe]

Evelyn pulled her small car into the car park of the warehouse she had been given the address of. The car park was empty and there seemed to be no one around. "Why on earth would they pick this place" she muttered to herself looking at the basically abandoned warehouse. She was already in the clothes that they had sent her in the post. It was the leather jacket and a spiked bra which fit straight into her Gothic look. However she couldn't help but notice that the bra was a couple sizes too big making her tits look a lot larger than they really were. She got out of the car and entered the warehouse. As soon as she got in she walked into the dark factory floor and called down to see if anyone was there. "Hello I'm here for the photo shoot. I'm the model the agency sent he-" before she managed to get all of her words out she felt a cloth placed over her nose and mouth from behind. Her scream was muffled as she felt her vision black and she fell into unconsciousness.

As she slept she dreamed of the meeting with the modeling agency about this job. She remembered the agent smiling looking over her portfolio and remarking that this job paid good money. She remembered feeling uncomfortable in the meeting especially with the way the agent kept glancing over her body.

As she slowly opened her eyes she looked around the room which was now lit up. Standing around her was a camera crew all preparing lighting and standard shoot equipment. She tried to stand up but she realized that she had no control over her arms and legs. "Hey she's up" the shoot director commented as he headed towards her. "Hey sweetie we have all been waiting for you and we're so excited to meet you. Thank you so much for agreeing to this job you'd be surprised how hard it is to find good fertile models these days. After all it's not everyday that you specify that a model needs to be fertile." She was still groggy and confused but she managed to form a sentence in her mind "who the fuck are you and what the hell do you mean fertile" she said practically spitting in his face. "Oh sweetie did your manager not tell you." He smiled with a perverted look on his face "This is a maternity shoot." A feeling of dread pervades her whole body as those words come out of his lips. "What do you mean by a maternity shoot I'm not pregnant why did they accept this job" the director laughed as she lay next to him "oh sweetie this is the 21st century we have work arounds for things like this." He smiled pulling a syringe out of this bag. "And I promise you honey it's not half as painful as it looks." She looked horrified at the needle filled with thick white liquid. "What the hell do you intend to do with that?" She said trying desperately to get up but her body was still not cooperating. "Well honey this is what's going to make you pregnant so that we can get the photos. It's essentially just a modified cum. Funnily enough it's my own. Keeps down costs you understand. Oh don't look so horrified I'm a gay man sweetie I promise this isn't some fetish thing." He said as he flicked the needle ensuring no bubbles had formed in the chamber. "So why did you knock me unconscious then if this isn't a fetish thing" Evelyn spat back angrily. "Will you understand sweetie it makes growing a lot easier on your body if you can't feel it. Don't look so mortified we've already paid for you now and we intend to get what we paid for. The cover shot for our latest maternity magazine. Now hold still." He placed a hand on her now hyperventilating torso and sunk the needle into her belly button.

He smiled as he released the fluid inside of her and she felt it flood her body. She gasped as she felt the fluid. It had only been a tiny syringe how was there so much of it? "There we go sweetie congratulations you're going to be a mum. Don't worry with the amount we're paying you you're not gonna have to worry about child support. At least I certainly hope you're not." He laughed patting her stomach as he stood up and walked towards the cameras and the equipment. She lay there helpless unable to move still and she felt a warmth spread inside her torso. To her horror actually watched as her chest expanded filling out her spiked bra. To her even greater horror she watched her stomach expand with a life inside of her that she never asked for. Before she knew it she was the size of a blimp where her once toned stomach had been. She groaned feeling the baby kicking inside of her signifying that she really was carrying a child. Slowly she began to feel her arms again and she immediately rushed her hands towards her stomach desperately trying to rub to alleviate the feeling of pressure inside of her body. The director rushed over with a camera and got a photo of her holding her belly as she lay on the floor. "Oh yes sweetie that's a great shot look at you appreciating your new figure." She stared directly into his eyes "fuck you asshole. Thanks to you this is probably the last modeling job I'm gonna be able to get you've ruined my figure." The director left as he kept snapping photos of her angry expression. "Sweetie with the amount we're paying you you're not even gonna need to get another modeling job and anyway maternity photo shoots are very popular I'm sure you'll be fine." He said dismissively.

He grabbed her hand and lifted her to her feet. Miraculously her legs were still working and she stood in front of the pale background unsure what to do. On the one hand she was now filled with a child that she had not asked for she knew that she would have to give birth to this possibly sooner than she expected considering her size. On the other hand the director had started barking orders at her as she studied in front of the background and this was her job. She started to pose for the camera in spite of herself. After all this is what she was made for and with the baby already inside of her what choice did she have.

She struck as many poses as she could accentuating her curves and showing off her new maternal appearance. The director was practically beside himself with the photos that he was getting. Suddenly she felt an intense pain spread across her stomach. She looked down at her now truly massive stomach and suddenly she realized what was happening. A rush of warm water escaped between her thighs and she realised that she was in labour and was going to have to push out her unwanted offspring. To make matters worse the director got closer with the camera and began to photograph her pained expression. "My god with these shots we're gonna have the front page for sure!" He exclaimed totally disregarding her agony. She sank to her knees from the contractions and began to push despite the denial in her mind of what was happening. She couldn't believe this was happening surely this wasn't real. But as she gripped her stomach and the contractions intensified all she could do was scream and push.

[inkie-does-whump]

the recent art got me interested; how did pearl and scott handle being chained up? considering cannon id assume poorly.....

Trigger warning: blood and death

I'm guessing you're talking about the art of Cleo and Martyn, yes? This one?

Pearl and Scott have a sort of love/hate relationship (they always have). They grew up together, they're cousins, so it's not like they haven't had arguments before. Pearl was an only child, so a lot of her childhood was spent hanging out with Scott.

And for what it's worth, the first weeks or so of DL SMP they were great. Still the same best friends they had always been. Cooperating together and everything.

But soon after (for reasons unknown, possibly the change in location or the new stress) Pearl's manic symptoms started to get worse and more frequent.

Scott would wake up to her thrashing in the bed beside him, hyperventilating in her sleep and tearing violently at the sheets. During the day she would have sudden mood changes, going from laughing to crying or raging in a few seconds.

The Watchers tried to fix it. They upped the dosage of her meds. They gave her different meds. But at best they only delayed her episodes.

Pearl felt like she was insane. People would look at her like she might snap and attack them at any moment. Scott kept their chain taut when he cowered from her.

But she was just Pearl! She was friendly, and smiled no matter what. Friends with everyone. She would braid Cleo's hair for her, and coax Scott into taking one more bite of food. Why were they afraid of her?

Her pulse thundered through her. She fought to catch her breath. All around she could see other subjects frozen or hiding. Jimmy had ducked under a nearby table. A flick of red hair in the doorway told her Martyn and Cleo had fled the room. Grian had flared his wings wide enough to hide both Ren and Bigb behind him.

Unexplained rage was still boiling under Pearl's skin. She turned back to the source of her anger, the three Watchers. They made no move towards her. No attempt to unchain Scott and take him away for his rental.

They just laid there.

Dead.

She stabbed one again, just for good measure.

Next to her, Scott was crying.

[xtra7s]

First, I love your work!

Second Clicking ont the yes baby button made me feel things !

Third I was wondering if you could write about Leighton or Renée who has an hidden anxiety disorder

Thanks ♤

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦

Leighton Murray x Fem!reader

Synopsis: Your girlfriend Leighton is struggling.

Content: Anxiety attacks, fem reader, ummm idk fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

a/n: LOVE REQUEST SO MUCH HOPE I DID IT WELL IM SORRY ITS SHORT (Glad the button made u feel things)

masterlist

Leighton's heart raced like a runaway train, each beat reverberating through her chest like a drumbeat of impending doom. She stared blankly at the pages of her math textbook, the equations and formulas blurring together into an indecipherable mess. No matter how hard she tried to focus, her mind refused to cooperate, consumed instead by a rising tide of panic.

"I can't do this," Leighton whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own ragged breaths. "fuck I can't do this."

She raked a hand through her hair, tugging at the perfectly styled blonde locks in frustration. This wasn't like her. Leighton Murray was known for her sharp intellect and unwavering confidence, especially when it came to academics. But now, faced with the looming specter of failure, she felt utterly powerless.

The fluorescent lights of the college dorm hallway cast a stark glow on the beige walls, as Bela, Leighton's roommate, hurriedly dialed Y/N's number. She could hear the faint sound of Leighton's pacing from the other side of the door, mixed with the irregular rhythm of her breaths.

"Come on, pick up," Bela muttered under her breath, anxiety lacing her voice as she waited for the call to connect.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Y/N answered. "Bela? What's up?"

"Y/N listen, something's wrong with Leighton. She's freaking out about something. I don't know what to do."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the urgency in Bela's voice. Leighton was known for her impeccable composure, if she was hyperventilating over something, it had to be serious.

"I'm on my way," Y/N said without hesitation, grabbing her jacket and keys before rushing out of her own dorm room.

Minutes later, Y/N knocked on the door of Leighton and Bela's room, her heart pounding in her chest. Bela opened the door, her eyes wide with concern as she stepped aside to let Y/N in.

Leighton was pacing around her room, her usually perfectly styled blonde hair in disarray, and her hands shaking as she clenched and unclenched her hands.

"Leighton, hey," Y/N said softly, crossing the room to grab ahold of Leighton's hand softly, stopping the pacing. "What's going on? Why are you so worked up?"

Leighton looked up, her blue eyes swimming with panic and vulnerability. "Y/N, I… I don't know what to do. My brain is all scrambled and I can't memorize these formulas for shit I don't know what's wrong with me."

Y/N's heart broke at the sight of Leighton's distress. She smiled sadly at her, offering a reassuring squeeze to her hand.

"Hey, look at me," Y/N said, her voice steady and soothing. "You are more than capable, Leighton. You're brilliant, and you know this stuff. I know you do, you're quite literally the smartest girl on campus."

Y/N noticed Leighton's breathing picking up, and she gently guided Leighton to sit down on the edge of her bed.

"Hey, it's okay," Y/N said soothingly, her voice a beacon of calm in the storm. "Just breathe with me, alright?"

Leighton nodded shakily, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. Y/N settled down beside her, taking Leighton's trembling hands in her own and guiding them to her chest.

"Feel my breath," Y/N instructed, her voice soft and reassuring. "Inhale… and exhale."

Together, they began to breathe in tandem, the steady rise and fall of Y/N's chest a comforting rhythm against Leighton's fingertips. With each breath, the tight knot of tension in Leighton's chest began to loosen, replaced instead by a sense of peace and calm.

As they continued the exercise, Y/N whispered words of encouragement, her voice a gentle melody soothing Leighton's frazzled nerves. And with each passing moment, the storm raging inside Leighton began to subside until all that remained was the quiet serenity of the present moment.

"Better?" Y/N asked, her eyes searching Leighton's for any sign of distress.

Leighton nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Y/N," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Y/N smiled back, her heart swelling with love for the girl sitting beside her. "You don't have to do anything alone, Leighton. I'm here for you, always."

Leighton's breathing began to slow as she focused on Y/N's comforting words. With each steady inhale and exhale, the tension in her body began to ease.

After the storm of panic had passed, their fingers stayed intertwined as they basked in the calmness that filled the room. But amidst the tranquility, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging concern that had been gnawing at her since she first saw Leighton in distress.

"Leighton," Y/N began softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "do you… do you have an anxiety disorder? I'm so sorry if that's rude to ask, I've just noticed you get really.. panicked sometimes."

Leighton's breath hitched at the question, her eyes widening in surprise. She hadn't expected Y/N to pick up on the underlying issue so quickly, let alone address it so directly.

"Yeah," Leighton admitted hesitantly, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "I do."

Y/N's brow furrowed in concern as she faced Leighton, her expression a mixture of empathy and confusion. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Leighton looked away, her gaze fixed on a spot on the floor as she struggled to find the right words. "I guess… I guess I was scared," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Scared that you would think less of me, or that you wouldn't understand."

Y/N reached out and gently lifted Leighton's chin, guiding her to meet her gaze. "Leighton, I could never think less of you," she said earnestly, her eyes filled with sincerity. "You're still the same amazing person I fell in love with, anxiety disorder or not."

Leighton's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she absorbed Y/N's words, her heart overflowing with gratitude for the unwavering love and acceptance she found in Y/N's embrace.

"Thank you," Leighton whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Y/N smiled softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to Leighton's forehead. "You never have to face anything alone, Leighton. I'm here for you, always."

And as they sat together in the quiet intimacy of Leighton's room, surrounded by the gentle warmth of their love, Leighton knew with unwavering certainty that no matter what challenges life threw their way, as long as she had Y/N by her side, she could weather any storm.

[winxanity-ii]

IT'S ME, MARIO!

ship: itadori x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 1.7k a/n: idc idc idc, yuji would definetly make a fool of himself if he knew you were nervous

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Since living on campus, you'd adjusted to being on your own. It had been… interesting, to say the least.

Moving from the comfort of your hometown, where you knew everyone and everyone knew you, to a sprawling university was like stepping into another world.

But you'd managed. Slowly but surely, you'd found your rhythm.

You'd been pushing yourself to attend those countless events and programs that the campus threw at you, dipping your toes into the waters of socializing at your own pace.

Sometimes, it was easier to just be a face in the crowd, observing from the sidelines, taking mental notes of how people interacted, what made them tick.

You'd practiced small talk like it was an art form—commenting on the weather, complimenting someone’s shirt, asking what their major was—and for the most part, you'd gotten better at it.

It was a slow process, but you were learning to navigate the chaotic dance of college life.

Currently, you were sitting in your honors open communication class, trying to remember how to breathe without making it seem like you were hyperventilating.

The classroom, with its cozy size of about ten people, should have felt intimate, manageable. But instead, it felt like a pressure cooker. Every word, every glance, every single goddamn breath felt magnified.

You were staring blankly at the front of the room as your classmate, Akane, wrapped up her presentation on how to cook a traditional Japanese breakfast: tamagoyaki, miso soup, grilled fish, rice, and even a beautiful spread of pickled vegetables.

It sounded extravagant, yet she made it look so simple.

Probably because she didn't have to wrestle with the invisible, clawing beast of anxiety like you did every time you so much as thought about public speaking.

Your palms were sweaty, knees weak—okay, maybe not that dramatic, but still. You were jittery and nervous, your pulse a steady drum in your ears because you were up next. And Akane, bless her, was finishing up with a flourish, her smile bright and confident.

You tried to take a deep breath, feeling your throat tighten. Itadori Yuji, sitting right next to you, leaned over slightly, his shoulder brushing yours, and whispered, "Hey, you okay?"

You managed a stiff nod, mumbling out a barely audible, "Yeah." But you didn’t dare look at him, because you knew the concern in his eyes would undo you. Instead, you stared hard at the scratched-up desk in front of you, willing yourself not to freak out.

Yuji knew about your anxiety. You'd confided in him more than once, spilling the mess of thoughts that spiraled in your head before you had to speak in front of people.

How your heart raced, your mouth went dry, your hands shook. How no matter how much you prepared, how many times you practiced, your body still froze up.

It was like your brain and body were in this weird, dysfunctional relationship where neither of them wanted to cooperate.

"L/N-chan?" Your professor, Nitta Akari, said your name with that polite, expectant tone that sent another jolt of panic through you.

You opened your mouth, but before you could make any sound that resembled a response, Yuji spoke up.

"Sorry, teach, but is it alright if I go first? I'm a little shy…" His voice was as smooth and casual as ever, and you turned to look at him, utterly confused.

What the hell?

Nitta-sensei blinked but nodded, clearly caught off guard. "Uh, sure, Itadori-kun. Go ahead."

Yuji stood, giving you a quick wink as he made his way to the front of the room. You were still processing what just happened when he started speaking, but instead of launching into the well-thought-out paper on global warming you helped him prepare, he began with: "Mario, the Idea vs. Mario, the Man."

You blinked. Once. Twice.

What the fuck?

"Everyone knows Mario is cool as fuck. But who knows what he’s thinking? Who knows why he crushes turtles? And why do we think about him as fondly as we think of the mythical (nonexistent?) Dr. Pepper? Perchance…"  

You couldn't even react properly because he was already going off, delivering the opening lines with this bizarre mixture of enthusiasm and conviction, as if he was genuinely pondering the existential meaning of a pixelated plumber's life.

Everyone in the room, including Nitta-sensei, was staring at him with varying degrees of confusion.

There was a couple of snickers, and you saw one of your classmates, Yuki, already recording this on her phone, probably for TikTok.

Yuji, however, was undeterred, fully committing to the bit as he paced slightly, gesturing with his hands like he was giving a TED Talk. "Why does he crush turtles? Is it because he's saving the princess? Or is it because he's trying to save himself from his own internal void? Is it about the princess or the chase?"

You were sitting there, mouth slightly agape, because this was not what you spent hours helping him research. You'd spent countless nights, coffee-fueled and sleep-deprived, going over statistics and climate change projections, not pondering Mario’s deep-seated motivations for stomping on Goombas.

"And those mushrooms. Seriously, who decided that eating weird fungi would make you bigger? What kind of metaphorical bullshit is that? Some kind of growth narrative, maybe? Mario, the eternal underdog—"

"—Itadori-kun," Nitta-sensei interrupted, her voice carrying that unmistakable tone of an adult who's trying very hard to stay patient. Her eyebrow was twitching ever so slightly, and you could almost hear her internal scream as she tried to make sense of whatever the hell Yuji was talking about. "What point are you trying to make with this?"

Yuji blinked, completely unbothered, like he'd only just noticed he'd wandered off into another dimension of thought. "I dunno, but I think…" he trailed off, his eyes flickering around the room like he was looking for the answer somewhere in the air.

It was almost endearing, the way he tilted his head like a confused puppy, his lips pursed as if deep in thought.

There was a pregnant pause, the kind that stretched on just long enough to become uncomfortable. Nitta-sensei exhaled, the sound barely restrained, and she muttered his name again, "Itadori-kun." There was a warning there, a gentle push for him to get back on track, but you could tell her patience was wearing thin.

And in that moment, something in you snapped, like a rubber band stretched too far.

You knew you should let him flounder in his awkwardness, let him take the hit because, well, he put himself in this situation. But instead, you heard yourself saying, "I think Itadori-kun is trying to say that Mario isn't just a game character. He's a symbol of all the pointless shit we chase in life, only to find out the reward wasn't even in the castle—it was in the journey..." The words tumbled out in a rush, your voice wobbling slightly, and you felt the eyes of the entire class on you.

There was a beat of silence, then another, before Yuji broke into a grin, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Yup! That's what I was trying to say!" He clapped his hands together, looking almost proud, and you couldn't help but feel a little heat rise to your cheeks.

How does he make everything sound so simple, so obvious?

Nitta-sensei just sighed, rubbing her forehead like she was trying to ward off a headache. She looked at Yuji, then at you, then back at Yuji, her expression caught between exasperation and something almost like amusement. "Alright, thank you, Itadori-kun," she said finally, her voice dry. "For that… unique interpretation."

She waved a hand, clearly done with the whole ordeal. You could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, like she was trying not to laugh, and it made you feel a tiny bit better.

At least she wasn't mad.

Just as she opened her mouth again, probably to call your name, the bell rang, loud and obnoxious and utterly glorious. You nearly sagged in relief, your muscles unwinding all at once.

The class collectively began to shuffle, packing up their things with the sluggish enthusiasm of students who had made it through yet another class.

Nitta-sensei sighed again, louder this time, and you almost felt bad for her. "Those of you who didn't present today will need to submit a recording since we spent too much time on…" She gestured vaguely at Yuji, who grinned sheepishly, "…this."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, relief flooding through you as you started packing up your things, all the tension and worry melting away like snow in the spring sun.

You glanced at Yuji, who was already waiting for you by the door, his bag slung over one shoulder, looking like he'd just casually won the lottery.

As you walked over, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at him. "What the hell was that, Yuji? Why didn't you read the presentation we practiced?"

He shrugged, giving you a lopsided grin. "I saw you were nervous, and I figured if I made a fool of myself first, maybe you wouldn't be so worried. You know, like, break the ice or something."

Your heart gave a little flip at that, and you couldn’t help the small, soft smile that tugged at your lips. He'd always been like this since you met him—considerate in his own goofy, unpredictable way. "Thank you, Yuji..." you murmured, feeling your face heat up a bit, the corners of your mouth curling up despite yourself. "Seriously, that was… really sweet."

Yuji beamed at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No problem! I like being there for you, you'd do the same for me."

You giggled, the tension easing out of your shoulders as you nodded. "Alright, how about I buy you lunch at The Den to fully show my appreciation. Deal?"

"Deal!" He practically bounced on his feet, his energy infectious, as he reached out and took your hand, his fingers interlocking with yours in a warm, comfortable grip.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but his touch was gentle and familiar, and you found yourself relaxing, your hand fitting perfectly in his.

"Come on, I'm craving those teriyaki burgers!" he said, already pulling you into the hallway, the two of you blending into the sea of students rushing off to their next classes.

You couldn't help but shake your head, a fond smile playing on your lips as you let him drag you along, your heart feeling a little lighter, your worries a little less daunting.

Maybe public speaking wasn't your thing, but having someone like Yuji by your side, you figured you'll be just fine.

A/N: hahaha i just couldn't help myself after seeing this meme going around online...

[0o-junebug-o0]

I know you don't see Emily as anything but a lesbian but could you possibly do a trans reader? It can trans non-binary or masc like a demi boy, but they're afraid to come out to Emily because she is very open that she's gay?

Coming Out

Here you go!

genre: angst and fluff, hurt/comfort

cw: coming out, trans masc!reader, no use of y/n, panic attacks

wordcount: 1.2k

You pace back and forth across the living room, taking deep, steadying breaths to try to calm yourself. You groan in frustration and sit on the edge of the couch, burying your head in your hands. You can feel your hands shaking.

You’re terrified. You’ve been dating Emily for almost two years. You live together. How do you tell her you’re not the girl she started dating? And you have no idea what it will mean for your relationship when you do. Emily is a lesbian. She likes women. And you’re not a woman. 

You lean back and run your hands over your chest, reveling in the flatness. Your binder arrived three weeks ago. You had made sure it would be delivered while Emily was on a case. You immediately hid it, and have only worn it while Emily is out of town and there’s no chance of her seeing it. 

It makes you feel so incredibly guilty.

She’s your girlfriend. You shouldn’t be hiding stuff from her. 

You adjust the binder with a grunt. It’s still uncomfortable to wear since you haven’t gotten used to it yet, but it’s worth it. You check your watch. Emily should be home in a few minutes. You don’t want to ambush her with this the second she walks through the door but you’ve been hyping yourself up all week and if you don’t do it soon, you’re not sure you ever will. 

Still, you’re scared. What if she breaks up with you because you’re not a woman? What if she gets mad that you didn’t tell her sooner? What if this makes her hate you?

A panicked sob bubbles up your throat and you curl in on yourself, hugging your stomach to try to calm down. You can feel your heart rate picking up as you gasp for air. 

You force yourself to take deep breaths and the shakiness of each inhale is audible. Then you hear Emily’s key turning in the lock and your panic increases. She’s here, she’s going to see you like this, she’s going to hate you. 

She calls your name from the entryway as she moves around and even though that’s still the name you use, the sound causes a sob to tear from your chest. You hear Emily freeze. You clap a hand over your mouth, and though you desperately want to get up and lock yourself in the bathroom to hide, your body won’t cooperate. 

You hear Emily’s footsteps coming toward the living room and your breathing picks up until you’re hyperventilating and gasping between sobs.

“Woah, hey, hey,” Emily says softly, sitting beside you on the couch. “What’s going on? What happened?” She rests her hand on your back and starts rubbing soothing circles.

You practically shove your body against hers, not caring that you're staining her shirt with your tears, just desperate to touch her in case this is the last time you can. “P-please don’t hate me,” you wail.

“Oh, sweetie,” Emily mutters kindly. “I could never hate you.”

You curl your fingers into the front of her shirt and cling to it like a lifeline. “You don’t—you don’t know that,” you sob.

“I do know that,” Emily reassures you.

You sniff and pull away, untangling your hands from her shirt. You look her in the eyes for a moment, noticing the clear concern written on her face. You lift your hand and hold out your pinkie. “Pi-pinkie promise?” you stutter. You feel like a child for asking, but you’re so desperate for her answer that you can’t bring yourself to care. 

Emily removes her hand from your back and curls her pinkie around yours. “Pinkie promise.”

You sniff again and unlatch your pinkie to rub your face. Emily’s hand returns to your back. 

“I—“ you start. You can feel your chin wobble and you bite on your lower lip to stop it. You bow your head, too afraid to watch the changes in her expression as you tell her. “I’m not a girl.”

You feel Emily’s hand still for a moment before it starts moving again. She doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m non binary. Or at least that’s what feels like it fits. Pl-please, don’t be mad! I understand if you want to break u—"

“Woah, hey,” Emily interrupts. “I’m not mad, I promise. But do–do you want to break up?” Her voice is wary and it shakes slightly.

Your head shoots up to look at her. “No! Never!” you insist. “But I–I thought you might want to.”

“What on Earth could make you think that?” Emily asks. There isn’t a hint of malice or annoyance in her voice. Just curiosity and concern.

“Be-because you’re a lesbian. And I’m not a girl,” you mutter.

“Oh, sweetheart. I don’t care about that,” Emily coos. “You’re so much more important to me than what I call myself. I love you for you, not for your gender. I don’t care what you identify as, I will always love you.”

Tears stream down your cheeks and you wipe them away violently. “Th-thank you,” you gasp.

“Oh, honey.” Emily pulls you against her chest, holding you close and moving her hand to rub up and down your arm. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“Yes, there is,” you argue, your voice muffled against her.

Emily presses a kiss to the top of your head instead of arguing. “I do have some questions I want to ask, though, if that’s okay.”

You nod against her chest and tilt your head to look up at her.

She smiles down at you kindly. “Do you, um, do you want to go by a different name?” she asks awkwardly.

You shake your head. 

“What about pronouns?”

“I like they/them, but I’m not sure,” you admit. “And I don’t like being called a girl.”

Emily nods. “Okay. That's good to know. I, um, I might mess up sometimes at first but I promise I'll be doing my best.”

“That’s all I want,” you whisper, and press a kiss to her chin. 

She smiles and lowers her head to catch your lips for a brief kiss.

“How long have you known?” Emily asks softly.

You hum and furrow your brow as you try to think back. “Maybe five months,” you say. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Hey, I’m not upset about that. I could never be. Coming out is hard.”

“I bought myself a binder a few weeks ago too,” you admit.

Emily’s brow furrows in confusion. “A binder?”

You nod. “It’s a compression garment, kind of like a beefed up sports bra, that flattens your chest.” You lean back and run your hands over your chest to show her. “See?”

“Impressive,” Emily says with a slight laugh.

You laugh in response. “Yeah. I, um, I really like it. It makes me happy. And feel right. If that makes sense.”

Emily nods and pulls you in for another kiss. “It does. And I’m glad.”

“You’re the best,” you whisper against her lips.

“I know,” she teases. 

You laugh and lightly bat her shoulder and Emily laughs too.

“I love you, sweet thing,” she mutters. 

You hum. “I love you too. And I like that nickname.”

Emily chuckles. “Better than 'sweet girl'?”

“Much better.”

_____

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Taglist!: fill out this form if you want to be tagged when I post fics

@angeliccss @novaanna @moonysreid @eliscannotdance @ilyremuslupin @ashluvscaterina @greyslover3004

[lacontroller1991]

Blindsided (Mob Boss!AU Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean)

Main Master List || Misc Master List Part 1 || Part 2

Inspired by @ghoulcyamour's mob boss idea and requested by anon

Summary: After being kidnapped, Lucy demands answers, but is left heartbroken and with more questions than before.

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: 18+, kidnapping, alcohol, language, Mob elements

Author's note: So I typically don't write character x character fanfic (I'm much better with x reader), however I had a good idea for this one and so I hope it pays off. I definitely think it should be in two parts, and I plan on having the second out sometime this week!!!

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

“What do we do now?” A muffled voice asks in the darkness, the voice rough and unsure.

What seems to be another man sighs. “He’s not going to be happy.”

“When is he ever happy?” “Well shit, I don’t know, but he’s going to be extra mad when he finds out we kidnapped the wrong Maclean. She’s waking up.”

Lucy wakes up with a groan and a pounding headache. Either she drank too much last night, or she hit her head against something and blacked out. Her bet is on the latter. Trying to regain her consciousness, her eyes slowly open, wincing immediately at the bright light. Why on Earth is it so bright? Sitting up on the oddly stiff bed, Lucy cracks her neck a couple of times before her eyes properly open, letting out a yelp of surprise to see two men in her room. Scurrying off the bed, Lucy flees to a corner, back against the wall while she watches the two men who don’t make a move toward her. “Where am I? Who are you?”

One of the men steps forward, setting a box down on the bed before returning to his partner’s side, their cold eyes piercing yours. “You’re in no danger. For now. Put that on and fix yourself up. He wants to meet with you.” Lucy gulps, hazel eyes flicking between the box on the bed and the two men. It’s clear to her that she’s been kidnapped. She’s never met them before, and she hasn’t seen them before. One moves to open the door, slipping out while the other stares at her, eyes traveling down her body, lingering on the party dress that reveals a little too much. “We’ll be back in 10.” The man comments before stepping out of the room, closing the door, and locking it from the outside with a soft click. 

Once they are out of sight, Lucy begins hyperventilating. Who are these people and what do they want with her? She’s done nothing wrong. All she did was go out for a couple of drinks last night with her friends and now she’s here, in this room, with no answers. Looking down at the box, she runs her fingers along the edges before lifting the top, revealing a simple pair of ballet flats that lay on top of a simple black dress. Moving the flats to the side, Lucy lifts the dress, bringing it over to the mirror in the room and holding it over her body. It’s not her normal style, however it does have a certain elegance to it. Letting out a shaky sigh, Lucy looks at her reflection in the mirror, cringing at her slightly smeared makeup and appearance before looking down at the classy dress in her hands. “Okey Dokey.”

“Where are you taking me?” The hands on her arms are firm, but not firm enough to leave any serious bruising. 

“Will you just shut up?” The man on her right comments, leading her through a series of hallways that maybe if she was paying closer attention she could map out. Wherever she is, whoever owns it must have a lot of money. The two men on her arms lead her through open double doors, revealing a large room with high elaborate walls and a large fireplace on one side while a library covers the other side. In the middle of the room sits a large oak table, filled with trays of food. At the sight of the food, her stomach grumbles as nausea sets in. She hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday morning and the alcohol is finally taking its toll. The two men forcibly sit her down on one of the chairs at the table before standing behind her. 

A set of doors open, gathering Lucy’s attention, watching a group of men walk in and in the middle stands a man with a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. Looking him over, Lucy takes note of the way he holds himself. Straight posture, pressed suit, neat, combed back hair, sharp eagle like eyes that don’t seem like they would miss anything, and a persona that radiates boss energy. Lucy’s breath hitches in her chest. Aside from him being older than her, she can’t deny how attractive the stranger is.

Taking a seat across from her, the man snuffs out his cigarette, motioning for a waiter to pour wine into Lucy’s cup before moving to the man, filling his glass with the red liquid. 

“Uh- hello?” The man tilts his head, eyes squinting at her, the gears in his head visibly turning. Leaning forward, the man rests his head on his clasped hands, eyes remaining on Lucy, making her squirm. 

“I bet you’re wondering why you’re here.” At the mention of finally getting some answers, Lucy’s eyes light up. 

“Yes actually! Among other things,” she smiles, stomach growling but she pays no mind to it. “Like who are you? What is this place? What do you want from me? I mean this is all so much and I’m not sure exactly what I’ve done to be kidnapped or why you gave me this dress and this food! I mean there’s so much! Can I start eating?" Lucy’s rambling causes the man to smirk in amusement. Gesturing for the food, he watches as she piles food onto her plate, immediately taking a bite and moaning at the taste, causing him to raise an eyebrow. 

“Does your daddy starve you or something?” 

Lucy stops chewing, instead turning her attention to the man across from her before swallowing her food. “You know my dad?” The room erupts in laughter, including the man in front of her, a puzzled look gracing her features.

As the laughing quiets down, the man in front of her takes the glass of wine and swirls it before taking a sip. Closing his eyes, he savors the liquid before swallowing, smacking his lips and setting the glass down on the table. “Now that is some fine wine. I’m personally more of a scotch man, but this brand is hard to beat. So little lady, down to business. Your dad owes me a lot of money. My boys were supposed to grab your brother, but I guess you’re just as good.”

“I think you’re thinking of someone else; my dad is a legitimate businessman. How can he owe you money?”

Letting a chuckle fall from his lips, the man puts some food on his plate, using his fork to shovel the food in his mouth, building suspense. “Your dad is not who you think he is. He took my wife, and he costed me a fuck ton of money, so I am going to put a price on your pretty head in hopes that he pays up.”

Lucy stands up abruptly, eyes wide in suspense as the two men behind her take a step closer, ready to step in when the moment is called. “You can’t do that! I’m going to call the police!” 

“Sit your ass down,” one of the men forces Lucy down onto the chair as the man in front of her takes another bite of food, chasing it down with wine. “I get that you might not know of your dad’s business, but the police ain’t gonna help, not when they’re in my back pocket.” Gulping, Lucy grabs the wine, downing it in hopes that it will ease her nerves. She’s known that her dad runs a very lucrative business, but she didn’t know how lucrative, and if it’s anything like this man suggests, then she might be in for a shock. 

“Who are you?”

“Name’s Cooper Howard,” he scoots back from his seat, briefly standing up and fixing his suit before walking over to Lucy, handing her a phone. “Your daddy took something from me, and I want collateral. You’re going to use this phone and you’re going to call Hank, tell them that Cooper Howard has you and he wants his wife back along with the 3 million he stole or else you will be killed, and believe me, I am not above killing a pretty little thing such as yourself.”

He drags a finger down her cheek as a tear falls down Lucy’s porcelain skin. Just what has her dad done that could get him in such a mess. Reluctantly, she takes the phone from Cooper, flipping the screen up and silently pray, hoping that her dad will come to her rescue. “What’s your wife’s name?”

“Barbara.” Lucy’s head snaps up, recognition flooding her brain. Surely, he can’t mean the same Barbara that’s been living with them. If so, her dad kidnapped her? She doesn’t seem to be kidnapped, if anything, she seems happy, free. Not like how Lucy is feeling right now.

“Dark skin, brown hair? Really pretty?” Cooper’s head tilts, brows pushing together at Lucy’s question. 

“That’s her. How do you know her?” 

“She lives with my dad, brother and I. Makes some good hot chocolate.” Cooper’s eyes widen as a scowl form on his lips. Reaching forward, he grabs Lucy’s chin, as he leans in, his breath fanning against her face. 

“What the fuck do you mean she’s living with you?” Cooper’s eyes burn with rage as the gears in his head turn. Lucy chooses her next words carefully.

“She said she needed to get out of her marriage, so she moved in with us. I had no clue that she was kidnapped. She seemed happy, never complained about anything, always laughing at jokes, and telling us stories. I’m pretty sure her and my dad have a thing going on.” It slips out of Lucy’s mouth before she realizes what she said and to who. The man in front of her growls, bringing up a hand and slapping her across the face as she lets out a gasp, pain tingling against her cheek. 

“You’re a fucking liar,” he steps back, fists clenching and unclenching. There’s no way that she’s right, right? Sure, he and Barb went through a divorce, but he thought that they had come to an understanding, especially given that Janey was still in school. After pacing for a minute, he shoves the phone into Lucy’s hands. “Call him. Tell him he better give me 6 million now or else it’s going to be your head on a platter to his front door.”

Not wasting any time, Lucy ignores the pain on her face as she dials Hank’s phone number, hoping that he picks up. “Hello Dad? ... I’ve been kidnapped, and he’s demanding Ms. Barbara and 6 million dollars… Some guy named Howard.” Cooper’s foot taps impatiently as a hand runs over his mouth. This can’t be real right now. “Dad no. NO PLEASE! Just give him what he wants! I wan-“Lucy is cut off, tears welding in her eyes as she holds the phone against her ear, disbelief setting in. How has her whole life been a lie? How could her dad say, ‘good luck I’ll see what I can do’. 

Noticing her sudden shift in demeanor, Cooper turns his attention back to the young girl. “Well, what did he say girl.”

“He said ‘go to hell you bastard’ and ‘you’ll never get her back’ and-“Lucy chokes back a sob, resisting the urge to break down in tears, “and he said that you can keep me.” The room goes silence as Cooper processes the words. He honestly didn’t think Hank was that bad of a guy, but leaving his daughter out to dry is something that not even he would do. Motioning to the two men behind her, he grabs the phone out of Lucy’s hands as they escort her out of site, the girl too emotionally wrecked to even fight back. Sitting down on his sofa by the fireplace, he sips on a scotch brought to him by one of the servants. 

“What do you want to do boss?”

“We’re going to make him pay.”

Part 2??? I think so. Let me know how you guys like it in the comments!

Tag List: @reveluving @mariedork @palesatan @atttck @therighteousmanisdead

[stressfree-tea]

I posted a new one shot on A03

But it's a Broppy Proposal 🥰

My a03 is StressFreeTea 🥰

How does one find the right words to describe to someone how much they love and care for them? Sure, it's easy to tell a loved one you love them, but it becomes deeper when you explain why you love them. How they changed your life, gave your life purpose, made you feel wanted even though you pushed them away, how they never gave up on you as hard as you tried to get them to give up. Endless, upon endless reasons why I love her and endless upon endless reasons why I want her to be my wife. It sounds like it should be an easy task, telling her exactly how I feel, getting on one knee, and asking her to be my wife. However, it's not. I'm so incredibly nervous, anxious, all the words that encapsulate an anxiety attack. It has to be perfect and honest? I'm not sure how to achieve that.

It seems easy in theory, and she's the one person who dissolves my anxiety. However, I don't want to disappoint the most important aspect of my life.  What if I fail and disappoint everyone who knows about my plan? Darnell pointed out to me that there's no way I could screw this up. She loves me and boy, do I love her. However, not only is there the anxiety of the proposal but the anxiety of becoming the new Pop King. It was.. a lot to work around and digest.  My thoughts were spiraling, and I, myself, was starting to spiral as well. I felt bad, but the last couple of days, I was avoiding Poppy, and I think she caught on. I was sitting at my dining room table fiddling with the rose gold ring slipping in and out of my fingers when I heard the elevator coming down. Despite being hopeful it was Darnell and Cooper, I slipped the ring into the pocket of my vest in case it was Poppy.  Looking across the room, I saw Poppy coming my way. "Hi." She said, placing her hand softly on my shoulder, "Why are you avoiding me?".

I sighed. Of course, I was right that she caught on. I met her eyes and sighed again. "I'm.. not.. I... Poppy, I don't.. I'm.." I gathered all the courage I had and stood up and hugged her. "Let me rephrase that." I chuckled. She held onto me tighter but let go after a minute. "I'm worried about you. If you are having feelings, you can talk to me about them.. I would prefer that. I don't like it when you hide away. " She said, taking my hands in hers and lightly squeezing. "Poppy, I have no idea where to begin, but I'll try. I have changed into who I was supposed to be because of you. I was.. so scared of everything before we became close.  You have made me the happiest I could ever be, and for that, I'm grateful. " She immediately wrapped her arms around me again. "I'm not done." I said, slightly pushing away from the hug and going on one knee in front of her. She looked absolutely shocked and looked as if she wasn't breathing, but I decided to continue anyway. I pulled the ring out from my pocket and presented it to her. "Poppy, will you make me the happiest guy alive and marry me?". She was hyperventilating now, and tears were streaming down her face.  I wasn't exactly sure what to do, so I just was frozen on one knee in front of her.  She seemed to calm down after a few seconds, so I said her name.  "Poppy.. are you okay? " I asked, getting nervous again. I stood up and waited. She wrapped her arms around me and happily bounced around. "Yes, a million times, yes. I'll marry you." I smiled and placed the ring on her ring finger and kissed her knuckles. She didn't seem content with just a knuckle kiss as she tackled me to the ground and started frantically kissing my lips.

This. This is what I want for the rest of my life.

[thelittleangel]

How they would react to you having a panic attack

Warnings: panic attacks, some characters don’t know how to deal with mental health very well, general anxiety

Tags: physical affection, panic attacks, male reader

Characters: castiel, dean Winchester, sam Winchester, Rick grimes, daryl dixon, Shane Walsh, Negan, Dale cooper

Fandoms: supernatural, the walking dead, twin peaks.

Author’s note: hey, I know I did a poll for the next fic I write. I promise, it’s coming soon. I just need more time to write. In the meantime, have this.

Castiel

If you’re in the middle of a hunt, he’ll take you somewhere safe.

Probably back to the hotel, or somewhere secluded, where you can calm down without anyone bothering you.

If you need someone to hold you while you calm down, he’ll be that person.

He’ll stay with you unless you specifically ask to be left alone.

He’s still gonna keep an eye on you if you do want to be left alone.

Dean Winchester

He’ll take you to Baby, so you can sit in there and take a second.

He’ll hold you close to him.

He’ll let you talk about whatever you need to talk about, even if it has nothing to do with your panic.

He’ll leave you in the car if you want to be alone.

He has no way to make sure you’re ok if he did leave, so he’s gonna ask Cas to keep an eye on you (if he can.)

He’s gonna be worried about you the entire time. He cares about people a lot, especially when they’re hurting.

Sam Winchester

He’s gonna take you to a quiet room.

He’ll give you his jacket, if that’s what you need.

He’s going to be very hesitant about leaving you alone, but he’ll do it.

If you need someone to hold you, he’ll sit you down.

Hugging you to his chest, running his fingers through your hair.

He’ll do anything to make sure you’re ok.

Anything.

Rick grimes

It’s gonna take him a second to notice.

When he does, he takes you back home.

If you protest him doing this, he will fight you on it, every step of the way.

He takes you up to your shared room.

He’ll sit with you and work you through it.

He’s probably going to hold your hand throughout the entire episode.

If anyone needs to talk with him, he’ll go out into the hall to discuss it with them.

He’ll keep it brief, because he wants to make sure you’re ok.

Daryl Dixon

At first, he has no idea what’s going on.

He’s standing beside you, and all of a sudden he notices you hyperventilating.

He takes you to his tent.

It’s far away from the farm, so no one’s coming there unless they absolutely have to.

He’ll sit with you outside the tent.

He doesn’t bring you in because he doesn’t want you to feel like you’re trapped inside the tent.

He won’t initiate any sort of physical contact unless you ask.

He’ll walk back to the farm if you need to be left alone.

He’s gonna try not to worry about it.

He’s very worried.

Shane Walsh

He’ll take you to his tent.

And then leave you there.

He has no idea how to deal with this very well.

So he just gives you space that you may or may not need.

He never mentions it to you, because he thinks you might not want to talk about it.

He means well, but he doesn’t know what to do.

Negan

He’ll take you back to his room.

He’s not going to leave you alone.

If anyone needs to talk to him about anything important, he’ll tell them to fuck off.

He’ll hold you in his arms, putting your face in his neck.

He will shield you from the outside world, giving you quiet time to cry or yell, or whatever you need to do.

When you untuck your head from his neck, he’ll look at you with so much love and concern.

“There’s my beautiful boy. How’s your mind, sweet Angel?”

He’s not gonna let you do anything else today.

Dale Cooper

He’ll take you to a private place. Probably like an office or something.

He’s not going to leave you unless you ask him to.

He’ll still talk to people who need him (like hawk, Truman, Andy, or Lucy)out in the hallway.

He’s not going to probe you about what happened to make you panic.

You’ll sit in silence, probably.

He’ll hold your hand, but that’s just about the extent of it.

If you need to sleep, he’s going to sit with you, for a while, before eventually getting back to work.

He’s still worried about you, but he understands that you need space to deal with what’s hurting you.

[reddogf13]

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 14

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all.

Read from beginning: CH: 1 Death

Previous chap: CH: 13 Blight

Next chap: None (coming the ???)

__________________

~Ch: 14 Seraph~

Marta glanced at the door then to Blake. “What do you want to do?”

John knew, that explains why he panicked the whole way. “Stay here.” He pushed the door further out of his way. Peeking in he saw a smaller room with a burning fire. Looking like a nursery with a twig assembled crib in the corner next to a bed. Creeping in deeper he jolted back at the sight of a young woman.

“GET OUT!” She ordered past her terrified shivering. Holding a knife out with one arm whilst holding a bundle in her other.

He retreated and made sure Marta stayed back. “Wait here, don't go in, but watch her. I'm fetching John.” Rushing out to just past the entrance. “JOHN!” He roared out the man's name to command him forth.

John had a hollowed out deadened look as he stepped with Blake into the tunnel. Soon as he saw the hidden door was found he collapsed against the cave. Slumping to the floor against the wall on the verge of hyperventilating.

Forcing Blake to hold him straight for one final task. “John, you can't do this! Not yet!” Shaking him to stop his wheezing.

He pleaded with tears pouring down his face. “I can't do this! I can't do this! Don't make me do this! Please! Please! Please!” Hacking and wheezing out of breath between pleas.

“They have to come. Especially the baby. What if they get sick? We can treat them both and get them vaccinated!”

“Please leave them! Don't take them! Val will kill us! You don't understand how protective she is of them! Please, please don't take them!”

“We have to. Please talk with her. I don't want to drag her out and all the way back. If I have to, we'll have to separate her from the baby to make sure they don't get hurt along the way. I'll deal with Val after we get back. You won't have to and neither will Mathew.”

He wheezed. “I-I- okay.” Gathering himself with the help of Blake getting him back on his feet. Leaning partly into the other down the tunnel to the door.

“What's their names?”

“Her name’s Sophie. The baby's Jess.”

Hearing the child's name had Blake swallow down a rush of tears. Forcing them back to not be distracted at the moment. Patting johns back as he headed alone to talk. Blake stood back by Marta to listen in on what little they could catch of the conversation.

“It's okay- … I know- … Its- ...” John's speech passed back with hers.

“No!... What- … Wheres- … No! I- …?” Then both went quiet.

“They're coming.” Marta whispered, stepping back to give the two room.

Sophia was snug up against John's back cowering in fear. Looking between Blake and Marta before locking onto her only. John kept an arm back to make a small buffer between her and Marta. Keeping the mother a little calmer while surrounded by everyone.

Blake caught a glimpse of the baby hidden in her arms. Appearing to have not been born too long ago. After leaving the tunnels the guards didn't react much to the new found member. Going wide eyed at the baby spotted in her arms they tensed up. Blake reacted the same when he saw the Voltaire looking not so nearly relaxed as before. Twisting at their bindings to jerking on them to get free. Guards forced others to stay seated as they moved to rise. Shoving them down by the shoulders to readying their loops if needed. This whole easy gathering was to make him leave quick before the baby was found. Not for treatment or peaceful cooperation's sake. Rising struggles between the two groups were gearing to break out into full on fighting.

Blake had to be quick on calming everyone. “Listen, they won't be hurt.” Talking not only toward the Voltaire, but his own guard. “I don't believe in that Antichrist bullshit. It's just a baby. Many more have been born and the worlds doing fine. It'll be treated if it's sick and be vaccinated like the rest of you. Then they can leave with the rest of you. None of you will be separated from each other's sight. You'll still see her in the same quarantine, at all times.”

The Voltaire stopped trying to break their bindings, but held their glares on Blake. Breathing out as he motioned to “Get everyone moving.” Watching a few pick up a now gagged Ayzel to carry down. Paired guards were dotted between a few tied in a line. Blake toward the back, then John comforting the mother and baby, with Marta behind them over-watching the line for trouble. Chances of escape dwindled rapidly with all those ill reaching their limits. Breaks had to be done a lot, slowing the whole move down that worried Blake.

Halfway. Helping alongside the guards to get everyone on the boat. Relaxing after a long walk down the mountainside. It hit everyone sick the hardest, wheezing for most the boat ride on the verge of passing out between coughing fits. John looked practically comatose from his extreme anxiety of facing Val after this. Sure to have gained many gray hairs from this day. Blake was careful about looking in the mothers direction. Knowing that staring wouldn't help her feel comfortable. She looked incredibly young, around twenty. Her hair a dark brown with multiple nicks across her face from old injuries. Many more spread across her arms. Scar rings around her wrists matching ones Blake had seen before on slaves he freed. After touching the shore he was far more nervous passing through Temple Gate than the forest. Terrified Val would come out of nowhere to gouge his eyes out. Setting everyone in a jail cell, he set the mother in the one at the end of the hall. Easily seeable from the front at a glance. Telling the guards to fetch more things for her. Wanting her and the baby to be as comfortable as possible. Leaving Marta in charge while he zoomed off to grab Mathew and the medicine.

Mathew came right over while being told very little details. “So what are we doing?”

“Some more people need vaccines, but they're a bit nervous.”

“And they're in jail because they refused?”

“Uh, no, other reasons.”

“What reasons?” Stepping down into the jail Mathew froze at the sight of every Voltaire. When he saw Sophia and the baby he had a similar breakdown like his father. All the air in his lungs shot out in a crushed wheeze. Sucked back in to furiously scold Blake. “What did you do?! Put them back!”

“I cant put them back!”

“Yes you can!”

“They're here, they're getting treatment. The sooner they clear quarantine the faster they get to leave. So get to treating.” Pushing Mathew along.

“Quarantine?! You crazy?! Val's going to burn this place to the ground soon as she knows! What are you going to do?! Hope she doesn't return home and notice everyone’s gone?!”

“No, I'll tell her. Tonight… In an announcement.”

“Do you have a rotten brain?! You want to announce to a town of baby killers that we now have one?! This was the reason why she didn't want to bring them! If it got out, they'd be put at risk!”

“Look, it has to happen at some point and it's better we do it now. A baby coming along was only a matter of time. How long do we allow Knoth’s teachings to haunt this place? When we have three newborns in town? After six come along? We have one now and it's not going away. It's better we do it while we have only one. Easy to move, easy to hide, to keep safe. Everyone will know it's in town, but I'll make sure they won't know where until I'm sure they're safe in the community.”

Mathew’s eyes were full of fury. “Can you promise that?! That all of Temple Gate won't descend on this place to burn it down! That they won't be victims of a second culling?!”

“Yes.” He stated. “I promise.” His words slow to calm Mathew.

“... Alright. … Don't untie Ayzel yet.” Moving toward him to get his vaccine out of the way. Being healthy he didn't need a treatment of antitoxin like the others. When he reached the mother she was nervous, but trusted Mathew enough to take the vaccines. Both were given a clean bill of health after a look over. Mathew explained what everyone had, how serious it was, and when quarantine would end for them. John took the supplies from the guards Blake had them gather. Better bedding to keep them warm. A rocking chair and a wooden box to work as a temporary crib for now. In a few hours dinner was started on at the hall's kitchen. Food for the Voltaire was taken away early, by Blake in a separate pot, before anyone else could ask why. Wanting to keep the Voltaires whereabouts a secret for as long as possible.

John stopped Blake from leaving after delivering the pot of food. “She wants to see you.” Tipping his head toward the end cell.

“Okay.” Dipping his head as he passed by. Preparing to be insulted from dragging her here. Standing before her cell he softly spoke. “You wanted to see me?”

She hesitated to say anything at first. Sat quietly in the rocking chair wrapped in a blanket with her baby. “... You're Blake?”

“Yes.”

“... Val says you're harmless.”

He chuckled, sarcastically joking. “Well, nice to hear my intimidating reputation is so well known.”

“She said if anything happened I should talk to you.”

“Yeah?” A part of him beamed. “Uh, well, You can. I'll try to help with anything. Do you need anything?”

“Can I talk to Val?”

“Uh, soon-ish. I need to tell her what's going on first. She doesn't know about any of this and I'm still thinking of how to.” Rubbing his neck. And if she doesn't kill me after.

“Oh.”

“I'll try to get her down here soon. I don't think that'll be too far. … Soooo, is Val the uh-” Pointing to the baby.

Shaking her head. “Heh, no.” Her somewhat happy demeanor diminished. “It was from my ex-husband.” Looking to the side in disgust. “At least its not Knoth’s. I made sure he never got near me.” relaxing again. “I was pregnant months before his death. My husband panicked soon as we realized I didn't bleed that month. We argued about him telling Knoth or performing some sort of abortion himself. Scolding me for letting this happen to us. That it was our duty to kill the Antichrist. I didn't want any of that, didn't feel right. If we had faith in God couldn't he stop this? Why was Satan winning this war? I wanted to keep my child. At my refusal he chained me up in our basement.” Lifting an arm to look down on the scarred ring on her wrist. “I strangled him with those very chains, grabbed the keys off his corpse and escaped. No one else knew or realized what happened. People we're dyin' everyday and he was just one more gone missin'. I feared the day I'd start showin'. Even more when the big day would come if I managed that long. When John and Mathew freed the others, I saw my chance and ran with the rest. I knew I wasn't safe in Temple Gate and went to Val. She was… Nerve wracking at first. I wasn't sure if I made the right choice going to her. A few days later she wasn't like that anymore. A lot calmer and easier to approach for things. A while later I started to show and needed to tell her. She would have figured it out soon enough anyway. She was as excited as I was. She taught me a lot about baby's and helped me through the eventual birth.” Smiling at her little girl bundled in her arms.

Both were startled by John yelping at a thrown bowl. Voltaire across the way dodging a splatter of venison stew. Empty tin bowl clattering across the floor. A bunch of insults thrown by Ayzel. “Keep your shhit away from me! Fucking bull shhit of a traitor! Val will hhang you by the balls when she finds out!”

“You okay?” Blake shouted down the hall.

John sighed as he picked up the bowl. “Yeah.” Waving the bowl in the air. “I knew it would come, but gave it anyway.” Continuing to serve the others their portion.

Sophia mumbled to be barely hear-able. “He's always like that.”

“Always? Does he cause problem's back home?”

“A lot, even Val isn't sure what to do with him anymore. She hasn't kicked him out yet because she feels responsible for him. She “Lead the heretics out.” and she “Can't abandon him now.”.” Taking a bowl of food from between the bars.

“I'll leave you to eat. Mathew will be here if you need anything and he can fetch me for things. I'm gonna-” Clearing the lump in his throat. “Go tell Val.” And the rest of the town.

Ayzel voiced his fury. “Yeah, go tell her! Hope she slits your throat and eats your hhheart!” Laughing while Blake left with a developing pain in his stomach. Half the guard came along in case things got out of hand after the announcement.

Taking deep breaths down the long road toward the lit up grand hall. Marta was already waiting by the stage. He glanced around until he saw Val with James not too far away. He prevented her from running home this whole day. She already looked agitated, repeatedly drumming her fingers on the table as she leaned her head on the other hand. Passing glances to James staring her down the entire time he ate. Stepping up to the podium Blake cleared his throat. The usual assembly far smaller after putting so many into quarantine. Guards lining up around the hall were noticed right away by Val. Her drumming stopped to sit up straight. Her eyes locked onto them for glances next.

“Val-” He paused to think. “Refused to bring the Voltaire down for quarantine. I couldn't treat them or give them vaccinations. That was something I could not accept. Left alone they would have died or re-spread the disease. Today, I went with the guard to force them from the mines into a new quarantine spot.” Tapping the podium when Val's head whipped forward. “They're being treated now and will be let go in the future when healthy. … In the group was... A baby.”

Everyone's heads shot up at that. Food suddenly forgotten with a couple choking on their last spoonful. Watching Val from the corner of his eye he could clearly see the glare of death she shot him. Welp, I'm gonna die. Bounced around in his head. Taking a deep breath he settled his nerves, not wanting to stumble his stance on this. “I want to be clear. There is no Antichrist, I will not entertain the ridiculous idea of such. The baby will not be harmed, there's no reason to fear it. Anyone caught planning to do so will face punishment by death. When the Voltaires quarantine has ended they can freely leave back to the mines. Remember, they were heretics under Knoth, but not under me. They're to be treated like anyone else, with respect. I will not tolerate any refusal to follow these rules. Agree, or leave Temple Gate.” Waiting for any negative reactions. Noticing a lot of looks passing between people. Val still had her dagger eyes on him. Taking responsibility for it all he faced her silent rage. “I overstepped Val's rule on this without her knowing. I hope she hears soon that I'm sorry for this. And that if she still wants to speak with me, she can.”

She tightly gripped into her other arm. Refusing to react further among the townspeople.

Blake faced the rest of the room, giving others a random stare. “Same as anyone else with a problem.” Avoiding in exposing that she was there. “That's all.” Leaving to meet with Marta in his room. Talks in the dining room erupted to life about what was said.

Marta warned before they could reach his door. “She'll come after you.”

“I know, but let her.” Stepping into his room he began slipping off the armor.

Statement hidden as a question. “I should guard?”

“Leave me a few guards, while you guard the mom and baby. Don't let anyone but John or Mathew near them.”

Nerves shown in her hollow tone of acceptance about leaving Blake so unguarded. “As the angel asks.” Meeting up with the others to split who was guarding who for the night.

“Going to be assassinated for sure.” Looking down into his leak bucket half full. Taking it to splash out the hall window. Catching that some of the guard were posted at both ends of the hall. His stomach growled from not eating today. A knot in his stomach making him not want to eat at all. Guess I'll sleep while I can. Don't know what I'll do tomorrow. If Val doesn't come forward, will I have to send John? I said he wouldn't have to face her and maybe he shouldn't. Just have Marta meet her instead for a talk? But that seems so threatening. I could go myself... Grabbing his other hand to stop it from trembling. Fearing she'd do what Ayzel shouted if they were to meet alone. Settling the best he could in bed while his thoughts ran wild. Should I have left them up there? Val still would've been pissed, but less so. But if they got sick, they wouldn't have made it. The baby especially. Even if they get sick down here, at least they can be treated right away. Or rushed to the doctor… Hmm, that baby should get all the vaccinations it should. Maybe I can get that doctor to send in proper paperwork for a birth certificate and a Social security card. Don't know what will happen when they get older. Thinking about if the kid should go to school. It took him a few hours, but he managed to fall asleep.

Dreams filled by a suffocating presence dancing with the heavy smell of rot. Trapped in a dark tunnel made from many maggot festering corpses. Cold interior stung his skin covered by a layer of frost. He'd brush it off then find more on him a moment later. Snapping his head forward to a young voice screaming his name. “Blake!”

“Jess?!” He ran down the disgusting tunnel of rotten bodies. Little thought given to where he was running, just that he had to be quick about it.

“Blake!” He heard Jess shout again, but it was fading at each call. “Help me, please!”

No, no, no, no! He thought to run faster. “Jess!” He called out when her voice stopped. “Jess?!” He called out desperately. God, please, no! Tears stung his eyes that he was too late. Skidding to a halt when he heard a sinister laugh. Prying himself from the wall was that monstrous figure he hadn't seen in so long. Made up of skinless twisted limbs and a disgustingly long tongue that hung from its jaw lacking mouth.

“Help me.” It demanded so chillingly clear.

Blake shook off his fear to refuse. “No!”

It laughed at him. “You don't want them to find out. Help me and they won't come for you.”

“No!” Blake roared in refusal. Past all the disfigurement it was no demon, but may as well have been. “I-it wasn't my fault!”

“You didn't say anything. You helped. You wanted her dead. You know why!” It gurgled and growled at him. “Your a disgusting pervert who wanted to fuck her.”

“No!”

“Don't lie! You kissed her before she was even cold! What would you have done had I not come? Admit it! Admit to God! He'll forgive you! You're not evil for wanting to, just confused.”

Blake felt absolutely disgusted by his vile words. Acid welled up at the back of his throat in readying to vomit. He probably would have if he had anything in it. He couldn't bear to look at the disfigured priest any longer. He wanted to run, but that never helped. What else was he to do? He faced off Knoth with all his vile lechery. Was this demon any different? “Go away.” He commanded.

“We can help each other. Don’t be afraid. If you let me-” Its words threatened to bring something down. That dark wall blocking a threat that pained him to even approach.

Any threats he wanted to shout died in his throat. “G-get away from me!” He shrank under the looming pressure to be a helpless child back in school. Rotten halls were crumbling to a grotesque pulsing of veiny meat.

“You stupid little shit! Why are you doing this? You don't know how bad we need this! Kneel and pray with me before God gets angry! Did you hate her? Jealous of the other little boys she looked at? You didn't have to kill her for that. God hates lusting sinners, you need to repent. I can help you if you just got on your fucking knees.”

Blake's fear died to an anger that rose with each insult. That's not what I wanted. I didn't hate her. That's not what I am. “Shut up! I killed one monster and I can kill another!” Trying to get the bastard to shut up for once.

It laughed again. “What would your parents think?”

Blake's fury reached just below his skin. The frost melted off as the leftover water steamed away into a mist. “Shut up!”

“Watching their little boy. A disgusting, worthless, perver-” It wheezed in a gasp of air. Unable to speak another insult after crumpling down in fear.

Blake felt invigorated to shut down the disgusting monster. Did I really do it? Doubt chipped away at his boldness. He watched the demon, seeing that it wasn't looking at him anymore. Slinking away back into the darkness to hide from something else. Blake turned to see what it was that had the demon running so scared. Shrinking down himself under the towering figure of some horrifying beast.

Tall as a two story building, it stood cloaked in tattered black feathered wings. Blood dripping off the few bare sharp quills prodding through. Barely seeing the top of its head appearing like that of a deer. A pair of sharp antlers long and tall twisted outward. Peering through the wings were three other heads belonging to crows. Sickly thin, to the point of skeletal, each one snorted out red embers falling to land on Blake. Eyes as red and fiery as its breath. He couldn't see much else of it, being so covered. Except for many hooved legs stretching out from below the wings. Something like a deer's hind legs, but not entirely so. Spindly and black like the branches of a dead tree shaped into bladed hooves. Breathing out a cloud of ashes it spread open six of its wings. Each covered by a cluster of red eyes looking down upon him. The jaws of each head opened as if to speak something. Maybe it already was by how the tunnel of corpses rumbled at its jaws spread. Blake didn't hear a word when his eyes shot open to a guard barging into his room. Door slammed open so fast it bashed into the wall.

Guard blurting out. “Val’s fighting!”

Blake, hardly awake, still got the message enough to leap out of bed. Throwing on the armor he left on his desk to then run out with the lone guard. Hearing already a lot of yelling from the dining hall followed by things being thrown to crash against the wall. Everything flashed by until he saw her fighting the others. Time slowed until he thought it stopped. Getting a good look at her for the first time in months. She had changed since he last saw her. Hair having grown out a lot to be shoulder length. Some old scars skipped down the left side of her face. In long vertical lines like a large scrape. A bigger one marking down her forehead on the same side. Wrapped in the loose black fabric she'd been hiding under this entire time.

“OUT OF MY WAY!” She demanded of all the guards surrounding her.

Struggling to get a loop on her as she swiped a blade at them. One wired loop was already broken. Her next furious swipe slashed through the chain mail on a guard's wrist. Almost carving another's face to force them back. Using the table as an annoying block to keep the others at bay.

Her hard glare across them all locked onto Blake when she saw him. “YOU! WHERE ARE THEY?!” She would have gone for him if the guard had not stepped in her way. Earning them a violent attack of retaliation. One was punched in the face, another had their chest slashed. The chain mail rained down onto the ground in broken bits. When they started to outright grab her she viciously fought them off. By a stab to the shoulder she threw one out of the way over the table. Stomping another in the knee she forced them to the floor. Knocking another to the side by punching his throat followed by a stab to the chest. Blake's guard was rapidly thinning without a chance to recover.

“Val! Val, wait, stop!” He tried to talk to her, but she didn't bother to listen. “Val!” Blake shouted one last time. Tensing up when she broke through the last few guards. He froze like a deer in headlights. Body preparing itself for the pain about to hit.

Lunging for him, she was yanked back instead. After a gag she twisted around to slash at what guard grabbed her hood. They let go, but Val tensed with a sucked in breath when she saw who. Marta leaned back from the slash, her eyes bore down into Val on what was to happen. Val’s will to fight died immediately, turning to make a run for it. She didn't gain a step before Marta had her by the throat. Slamming her hard enough onto the table she dropped her knife. Clawing into Marta's arm to flailing kicks in trying to break free. Val thrashed against the tight grip blocking her air way. Marta pressed down to choke the life out of her without a flinch. Blake saw by how much Marta was leaning into it physically.

He had to stop her before Val was killed. “Marta, stop!” He ran over. “Stop!”

Her hard glare on Val turned toward Blake before softening. She hesitated, but relented in the end. Val gasped for a desperate breath of air. Given no time to recuperate before a bunch of loops were tossed on her. “Get up.” Marta ordered.

Her strength to argue swiftly crushed under Marta's presence. Passing a side eyed glare, but didn't say anything when she slipped off the table. Her legs needed a moment to set themselves after the suffocation. Recovered enough she snapped at Blake despite her sore throat. “Where are they?! What'd you do?!” Kept back from stepping forward due to the loops. She grabbed one on reflex to yank her way, then froze when Marta stepped into her space to stare her down in warning.

Blake rubbed his head. This wasn't how I wanted it to go, but here we are. No changing it now. “They're here and they're safe. I'll bring you to them, but you have to take some deep breaths.” Giving a moment before he gestured them all to start walking. Blake was at the front while guards surrounded Val. Marta being near her enough to just be in view of the corner of Val's eye. At least we won't be seen by a crowd of people. Glancing around at the town still dark, sky brightening before the sun fully peeked past the mountains. Taking a look at Val she didn't look to be doing well. Dark circles around her eyes as if she hadn't slept in years. Head low with gaze aimed to the ground. A bruise darkening around her neck to match Marta's grip. He worried if she would collapse on the way. What after? He'd have to do something after her visit. Would he leave her in there to, but as a prisoner?

She stopped whenever they did. Making no attempts to escape. Down into the jail they stepped, hearing Ayzel pop right off. “Did you find hhim? Your precioussh angel dead?” He mocked in laughing toward Marta stepping ahead. Unable to see Blake, perfectly fine with a captured Val in tow. “How butchered was-”

Val was the one to shut him down. “AYZEL, shut up!” Soon as they could see each other. The smirk slapped right off his face at seeing the group, glaring at Blake as he passed by. Down the aisle Val was already looking for Sophia. Head turning back and forth between the cells. All of Ayzel’s yelling had Sophia look down the hall, standing from her bed at seeing Val escorted over. Blake opened the cell door with a gesture for Sophia to stand back.

“Get the loops off.” Allowing Val to enter freely on her own.

Soon as the loops were gone she rushed in to give Sophia a hug. Getting hugged back just as tightly by her. “I'm sorry.” She whispered an apology.

“It's okay.” Sophia replied.

Blake closed the cell door, shooing everyone to move away. Giving the two some time to talk with a bit more privacy. Along with giving Val time to cool down. He left Marta to watch everything at the jail. Escorting the injured guards to the hospital for care. Mathew was asleep at the time, but another carer was awake to help. When Mathew woke a few hours later he panicked when he heard what happened.

“Val did this?!”

“Yes.” Shushing him. “And keep your voice down.”

“Where's she now?!”

“In the jail with Sophia.”

“Does dad know?!”

“No, not yet.”

“He has to know!”

“We'll tell him when- Mathew!” Calling too late the boy was out the door running down the road. “Ugh, would have let him sleep 'till morning at least.” Glancing out the window toward the deep blue early morning just before the sun would peer over the mountains. Tired, he rubbed his face to stay awake. The adrenaline rush he had was gone as everything felt strangely quiet now. The injured guards were up and walking again without anything too serious. Two would need time off as one had an arm in a sling and another had their knee in a cast. “You two can go home. I don't want those getting worse.”

“We'd like to come.” One replied.

Followed by the other. “Never seen Val before.”

“Uh, I don't know what you expect.” Blake asked. “Why?”

“No one's been able to catch her. It's hard to believe she's back in Temple Gate at all.”

“Knoth tried everything to lure her back and failed. We want to be sure that she's really there.”

“Pfft, that all? Maybe if he listened he would- the heretics probably wouldn't have existed in the first place I guess. She's there, waiting for me to deal with her.”

“What are you going to do?”

I should ask myself that. “... Talk?” Turning to head for the door.

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been a while. i wanted to get season 2 finished before starting to post, but I've hit some writing snags. so it'll still be a bit before a more reg posting of it, but the story is def not dead!