#i heard Miserable at Best. LIVE. i nearly cried

[park-jimin-isnt-real]

Hi friends

Technically there's supposed to be an eot chapter tomorrow but. I was here vv

So that's most likely not gonna happen.

Also this is gonna be a pop punk blog for the next couple days as I post about seeing Mayday Parade and All Time Low (and Games We Play) live for the first and second (and first) time respectively.

[cottoncalicoes]

⸻ USED TO HAVE A SWEET TOOTH, BUT YOU ROTTED ME

- Endo Yamato x Fem!Reader • Word Count: 1.1k -

Content warnings: vouyerism, mutual masturbation, teeny tiny bit of degradation, reader is kinda pervy, roommate au, porn w/o plot, italics is flashbacks

Kinktober Day 22: Endo Yamato + Masturbation in collaboration with @ficsforgaza | Full masterlist with other creators works here -> xxx

It’s wrong, the ritual you’d assumed ever since rooming with Endo. When he’d first offered up his spare room, it’d been you who was nervous of the prospect. The idea of a man like Endo having access to personal belongings made your stomach twist. But, after much convincing (and lack of other options), you’d moved in within a week.

—

“Come on,” your friend says, “living with him couldn’t be that bad. Plus he’s easy on the eyes, and you know he’s loyal. You won’t have to pull his weight.”

You groan, letting your head fall to the table with a thump, “I hate when you’re right.”

“Look,” she sighs, taking a sip of her coffee, “just give it a week or two. If you’re really that miserable then you can crash on my couch until you find a better place, okay?”

You huff at her words, curse her and her logical thinking. You allow yourself to sulk a few minutes longer before you finally concede.

“Fine,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “i hate you.”

She laughs out loud, flicking your forehead lightly, “I love you too. Now stop being such a pussy and call him.”

—

You’d expected him to creep on you, him to steal dirty laundry and bring girls home every other night. You’re not sure when it started, your infatuation with him— with his routine.

—

Loud moans echo through the thin walls between your rooms, cries of your roommates name falling freely from the lips of his latest conquest. That had been when it started, your yearning.

“Come on,” he groans, “touch yourself for me.”

Your eyes had widened at his words, breath stuttering as he continues to spit lewd words at the girl.

“Rub your clit, baby,” he snarls, “cum on my cock.”

It’s embarrassing really, how wet you find yourself. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been laid in a while, maybe you’re ovulating, maybe you’re done denying just how much you’re attracted to the man who lives with you.

—

The front door slams shut, interrupting your thoughts. Muttered curses can be heard through thin walls, and your thighs clench in anticipation of what comes next. You can hear him shuffle around his room, angrily tossing things around before he settles on his bed. You do the same, the thin wall being the only thing that separates your backs from being pressed together.

There’s a jingling of his belt, and you nearly whimper in anticipation for what comes next.

You can hear everything this way, pressed against the wall. The lewd sound of him spitting on his cock, the low moan he lets out when he strokes his over himself.

You do your best to muffle your own noise, a shirt you’d stolen from him stuffed into your mouth to hide your own sounds.

“Fuck,” he groans, the schlick schlick shclick sound of him stroking his cock growing faster.

You quickly push past the hem of your shorts, fingers moving to fuck yourself in time with him.

“Sweet thing,” he groans.

You pause, heart hammering rapidly in your chest at the familiar pet name.

“C’mon sweet thing,” he moans, “won’t you let me hear you too?”

You pull your hand rapidly from your shorts, crawling back from where you’d previously been pressed against the wall. Surely he wasn’t talking to you, you’d been so careful, so quiet.

“Such a little freak,” you hear him laugh, “you like listening to me get off? You’re not as quiet as you think, you know?”

Your stomach turns and you clench your fists, anxiety clawing up your chest.

“It’s okay,” he moans, “touch yourself for me. Need to hear how worked up you are for me.”

You stay still, fear still settled deep in your belly as you ponder your next move.

“Touch yourself or I’ll come to your room and make you.”

You whimper at his words, the imagery of him stalking to your room and watching you touch yourself has heat simmering deep.

“There you are,” he says with a laugh, “c’mon sweetheart. Make yourself cum for me.”

You find yourself pressed back against the wall, hands making quick work of your pants before you relieve yourself of the building pressure.

“Fuck,” he groans, “can hear how wet you are. Is it all for me?”

You moan out loud, fingers stuffing themselves inside of you as deep as you can.

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” you whine, free hand moving to grasp at your chest, “it’s all for you.”

Endo groans, head thumping against the wall as he strokes himself faster. You match your fingers with his strokes, clawing around the bed desperately before you find his shirt and press it against your face. His lingering scent has your eyes rolling back, your moans freely falling from your lips as your high approaches.

“Cum for me,” he gasps, “cum for me and I’ll come fuck you like you need.”

You picture the way he throws his head back, the furrow in his brow as his high approaches. His name falls from your lips again, and again, and again, your own high close to washing over you.

“Please,” you whine, “make me cum.”

Endo groans loudly, hips frantically bucking to meet his strokes.

“Yeah?” he goads, “Want me to come over there and stuff that pretty pussy full? Think you’ll be able to take it?”

“Yes,” you whine.

“Don’t stop,” he growls, voice growing quieter, “don’t fucking stop.”

The sound of his door opening is muffled by your whines, and you nearly screech when your own goes flowing open.

Endo marches over to your bed, pulling you to the end of it as he stands over you.

“I said don’t stop,” he says, hand holding you spread open for him. His own hand pulls his boxers down, stroking his cock as he looks down at you.

“Need to see you when you cum for me.”

Your hand swiftly returns to your clit, fingers circling before you press your fingers into yourself. Endo moans at the sight, weeping cock twitching at the sound of your pussy.

“God you’re so fucking wet,” he moans, “you usually get like this? Or is it all for me, sweet thing.”

“You! Just for you,” you cry, your high quickly returning at the sight of him, “gonna cum. Please.”

Endo’s eyes roll back, hand squeezing tightly at the head of his cock, “Cum for me.”

You callout his name as you cum, hips bucking up as your high washes over you. You whimper as you watch him fall apart with you, the heat of his cum landing on your stomach aiding you through the after shocks.

It’s quiet besides the sound of both of your heavy breathing, the both of you easing down from your high.

A kiss is pressed to your thigh, and you attempt to snap your legs closed at the feeling.

“W-what… what are you doing?”

Endo smirks up at you, his tongue lapping at his own release, “Cleaning my mess of course.”

[yhwhrulz]

Worthy Brief - November 1, 2024

Salvation is of the Lord!

Jonah 2:2 And he said: "I cried out to the Lord because of my affliction, And He answered me. "Out of the belly of Sheol I cried, And You heard my voice. 3 For You cast me into the deep, Into the heart of the seas, And the floods surrounded me; All Your billows and Your waves passed over me. 7 "When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord; And my prayer went up to You, Into Your holy temple. 9 But I will sacrifice to You With the voice of thanksgiving; I will pay what I have vowed. Salvation is of the Lord."

Jonah now acknowledges that God put him where he is, and he accepts His discipline. "Sheol" is the "grave", the "pit" or the "abode of the dead". Did Jonah die, or was he only nearly dead from three days of fish stomach acid, and little or no air? The text doesn't say; only that if he didn't actually leave his body, he came as close as a man can get to it; three days worth. In this nebulous and miserable place Jonah cried out, probably from the deepest depths of his agonized soul…he cried out to the Lord.

First, he gave thanks; quite amazing, but very plausible for a true man of God who has come to his senses. Anyone who truly loves the Lord is grateful for His discipline, painful as it may be. And finally, Jonah repented and consented to "pay what he had vowed". What this vow was we can only speculate. It may have something to do with a promise of devoted service in connection with his calling as a prophet of the Most High; or it may have been a promise he decided to make right there in the fish's belly. In any case, he was coming into agreement with the will of God once again. It must have been a great relief.

Jonah then prophesied once again; "Salvation is of the Lord!" Hallelujah! Jonah knew this now in a way and depth unprecedented until this moment of "resurrection". His near-death experience gave him a depth of revelation of God's power to save that few of us will ever experience. It will prove to be tremendously effective for the prophet's future ministry.

"Salvation is of the Lord." It starts and ends with God. How well do we know this? How often do we relearn it? Jonah's experience in the belly of a great fish cleared and focused his mind toward what matters most in all this world. In the terrifying darkness, he realized the folly of resisting God's reality and will. What might we need to sacrifice or endure to reach that level of conviction? Can we honestly pray that the Lord would have His way with us in the midst of all the little ways we "run away" from Him? Jonah's "quiet place" was forced upon him. But up to now, for most of us, drawing near to the Lord for deeper revelation is still a choice we can make.

Shabbat Shalom and have a great weekend in the Lord!

Your family in the Lord with much agape love,

George, Baht Rivka, Obadiah and Elianna (Melbourne, Florida)

Editor's Note: Feel free to share any of our content from Worthy, including Devotions, News articles, and more, on your social platforms. You have full permission to copy and repost anything we produce.

Editor's Note: During this war, we have been live blogging throughout the day -- sometimes minute by minute on our Telegram channel. https://t.me/worthywatch/ Be sure to check it out!

Editor's Note: Dear friends — we are going to be heading WEST!!! Now booking in the following states: Alabama, Mississippi, Texas, and Arkansas …. If you know Pastors, Rabbis or Ministry Leaders who might be interested in some powerful Israeli style Hebrew/English worship and a refreshing word from Worthy News about what’s going on in the Land, please let us know how to connect with them and we will do our best to get you on our schedule! You can send an email to george [ @ ] worthyministries.com for more information.

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Live In Nanny

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny. 

TW: Yandere themes, breeding kink (our villain is ready to make the reader a mommy), dub con 

AN: literally just took Hero All Might and flipped him upside down. So baseline form is big buff boi and villain form is lanky but retains the strength.

Single father with a nine month old child, seeking live in nanny services. Negotiable pay. Negotiable time off/vacation days.

Toshinori was impressed with your interview. You had over 8 years of experience working with children between babysitting and working at a day care. Plus Izuku took to you immediately. It was just a bonus that you were easy on the eyes.

You agreed to begin immediately, trying not to let on that you were in desperate need of money and a place to stay. You didn't have much to move in. And, in comparison to the huge room you had been given, it seemed like you owned even less. You figured your new boss must get paid well. His house was huge, the largest you'd ever been in.

Your room was next to baby Izuku's. Settling in to a routine with the baby was easy. You weren't sure exactly what your employer did for a living, his schedule was sporadic, he would be in and out throughout the day. Whenever he was available he would stop by to love on the infant. It was clear that he was doing his best as a single parent, but house keeping wasn't his strong suit. You tried your best to help out with the chores and grocery shopping, after all he was paying you graciously and giving you a roof over your head.

The only bump in the road so far has been getting Toshinori's permission to take the little one on walks through the nearby park. According to the father, errands were one thing but what was the point of going to park? Izuku can't even walk, there wouldn't be any benefit. Eventually you convinced him, after rambling about how good it is for babies to be exposed to different levels of stimulation. You could show Izuku the ducks and dogs, plus he could see all the pretty spring time flowers.

The older man was worried, he feared that his child, and you for that matter, would be targeted by his enemies. Plenty of low life's would love to make a move against the notorious villain. But you wore down his resolve. So long as you would tell him before you went. Thankfully he could play it off as being a bit of a helicopter dad. He always has a spare crony he could send out there to watch over you two.

---

"What are you both doing," your bosses laugh filled the air.

You were in a very flattering position, palms on the floor stretching through your hips, ass hiked up with a tempting arch to your back. Then you pushed yourself forward, giving the giggling baby raspberries before returning to your original position.

"Baby yoga!" You smiled, oblivious to the growing bulge in the villains pants. "Right now we're doing downward facing dog and cobra."

He watched you cycle through the motions, hypnotized by your movements.

You took such good care of him and his baby. Ever since you got here you went above and beyond (very plus ultra of you). You even packed his meals to go when he had to rush off to a job. And you did it all with a smile and his kid bouncing away at your feet. The man allowed his mind to drift to the thought of you with his babies, Izuku on your hip and your round belly ready to pop.

You made an amazing nanny but you would make an even better housewife.

---

It wasn't until a week after Izuku's birthday that you learned about your bosses occupation. You were at the park and a stranger approached you to coo over Izuku.

"Such a little cutie, this is Toshi's kid, right?"

That caught you off guard, how did this person know Toshinori? You knew he was a protective dad and there something about this woman felt off.

"Well, either way, this is for you," she smiled as she passed you a manila envelope. "A little birdie wants you to have it."

You skeptically eyed the parcel as the woman disappeared through the park. You shoved it into Izuku's diaper bag before rushing back home.

You decided to peek into the envelope after settling 'Zuku down for the night. You curled onto the chair in his nursery, using his nightlight too sift through the documents. Various photos of Toshinori, your employer, amongst high profile criminals. Photos of the most terrifying villain among his infamous exploits. And finally a piece of paper with a single web address and access code. This was the most damning piece of evidence, All Might - the villain himself - joking amongst his companions before transforming into the man you knew as Izuku's father. Without this video you would have never even guessed. All Might was known for his unassuming nature, his slender frame concealing his god-like strength. Still he looked terrifying, like make children cry type terrifying. Toshinori on the other hand was massive but his sunny attitude made him approachable. For all these months you had been working for a criminal. A criminal with a child. You had been living with him, laughing and raising a baby, taking care of him and his family. Oh god, your late night fantasies of your boss, a total DILF, were fantasies of a sadistic monster.

The betrayal and shame brought you to tears. You should call the cops. Take Izuku far away from this place, from being exposed to his fathers atrocities. But you were torn, he was a good dad, he always put his son first and provided him with only the best. He would tear the world apart for Izuku even if he had to put a target on your back. You shook as you muffled your cries, trying not to wake the baby you cared so much for. Eventually you wrote yourself out, falling asleep in the nursery.

By the time Toshinori made it home it was close to two in the morning. As usual he tip toed into his sons room, shocked to find you curled up in the rocker asleep. He was quiet, surprisingly more so than in his slender form. As you made his way to wake you he was surprised to see your phone still unlocked, you had fallen to sleep with that video on loop. Underneath your phone was the envelope, he didn't need to look to know what was inside. He hadn’t woken either of you, managing to shut off your phone and pick you up with or so much as a peep. He decided rather quickly that he would wait for you to make the first move. At least in the mean time he could pretend you didn't care about his lifestyle and that you wouldn't try to leave him or his son.

"Toshinori," you mumbled as he was about to settle you into your bed. You were half asleep and groggy from crying.

"Go back to sleep, darling, it's late," he paused to sway with you, just like he did when putting down 'Zuku for a nap. He was shocked that it worked and finally escaped your room. You let him lull you back to sleep, further affirming his belief that you would stay.

---

The next morning you creeped downstairs. Izuku wasn't in his crib, meaning Toshinori was him. You found them both in the kitchen. The sight of the pair would usually warm your body but now shivers radiated down your spine.

"Look who's up, buddy, say good morning," he bounced the child, beaming like the happiest father.

Taking a deep breath you decided to rip off the band aid. "Mr Toshinori, I have to resign."

His pause was so long you wondered if he heard you.

"Did the video upset her that much, Zuzu?"

He looked at you with the same warmth he always did. "There's no need to be formal, you were fine calling me Toshi just the other day. Take a seat, I made pancakes, just like you like'em."

You complied, his unchanged demeanor intimidating you into submission.

"There's no need for you to quit," he started. "Nothing has changed aside from your level of awareness."

"I can't work for you knowing that you hurt people."

At that his smile faltered, "Darling, if you truly felt that way, you wouldn't be here. You would've slipped out early this morning."

You were silent. He was right, in a way. Trapped between what was right and what was best for Izuku. You'd never be able to do anything about your boss's criminal activity, even if you did and All Might was locked away, Izuku would suffer the most.

"Give yourself a few days to adjust, okay? If you still want to quit after that, we can reassess."

There's was a glint in his eyes that hinted he wasn't asking.

---

"I'll be back this evening," Toshinori told you a as he kissed Izuku's forehead. He was uncomfortably close as he returned the baby to your lap. "There's plenty of groceries so you don't need to go out today. I have a coworker out front, so don’t worry if you see someone outside."

"What are they doing?"

He placed a hand on the top of your hair, petting you like some cat.

"He'll just keep an eye on things. I need someone to make sure you stay put."

---

A week flew by with your employer pushing off the discussion of your resignation. He wouldn’t leave you unsupervised so just walking away wasn’t an option, besides could you really leave Izuku? 

Then the child came down with some type of bug and was absolutely miserable for several days. You couldn’t get much sleep as a result, even if his father was home for most of the day. 

---

Izuku finally fell asleep around three in the morning. You napped beside his crib out of fear he would wake up if you so much as changed positions.

Then you woke in Toshi's arms as he carried you down the hall.

"Where are we going," You whined, anxious to be away from the child.

"I told you to rest, instead I find you in the nursery."

"'Zuku is sick-"

"But he's asleep, there are baby monitors, not that he won't wake the whole city up with his cries. You've been up for nearly two days with him, time for bed."

But he wasn't taking you to your room. Instead he dropped you on to his bed.

"What are you doing?" You snapped.

"I don't need you sneaking back. I can keep an eye on you here. I'll take care of him if he starts crying." He rolled in next to you.

The bed was huge but so was your boss. "Stop wiggling."

"Well I can't get comfortable."

“Fine,” he said and pulled you into him, “now stop it and get some sleep.”

You burned with embarrassment, turning silent after several attempts at protest. Just as you began to drift off, Toshinori's hand moved to beneath your shorts. You shut your eyes, pretending not to notice. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing. Then his fingers grazed the spot where your skin met your panties.

"I know you aren't asleep yet, darling."

You didn't respond, opting to keep up the façade.

"Mmm, are we playing pretend? I don't mind."

You gasped, pushing at his hand, "I'm trying to sleep."

"I can see that," he chuckled. "I'm just helping you wear yourself out. You've been taking such good care of the baby, let me return the favor."

He jerked your hips, pressing you tightly against his bulge.

"You've been such a good mommy."

God the way you could feel your body responding made you hate that he was a villain.

"'M not-" You gasped as he did his fingers into your thighs. "His mom."

"You sure about that? I know how much you care about him. Always rushing to him when he’s cranky, never taking any days off. You make sure he's a happy little baby and you take such good care of his daddy. Isn't that's what mommies do?"

A moan slipped through your lips, "Stop."

"Are you sure? It seems like your having such a good time," he teased, sliding his hand to find your wetness.

Your body jerked involuntarily. He wasted no time tearing off your layers. Your determination quickly fading.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you," he pushed a finger in to your warmth.

You shivered at the sensation. Before you could register his actions there was another digit. He skillfully maneuvered his fingers to prep walls.

"What a tight like cunt," The man cooed. "So perfect and pretty. Just waiting for me to claim."

You gasped as he curled his fingers in you. Tears of pleasure pricking your eyes.

"Atta girl, I think you're ready to take daddy's cock."

You shouldn't be surprised when you saw how absolutely hung your boss is. There was no way the whole thing would fit inside of you.

Without hesitation All Might slowly began to press inside of you. The head of his cock already made it feel like you were tearing.

"Wait wait wait," You cried. "Too big."

He paused, reassuring you, "I know you can do it baby. You're okay."

You shook your head violently.

With a sloppy squelch he withdrew. He disappeared momentarily, give you much need time to breathe. Then he was back and you felt a cool, slick fluid rub against you. He applied a generous amount of lube knowing full well that if he played his cards right you'd happily be his forever.

Regardless there was still a painful pressure as he forced himself deeper.

"You're doing so good, taking me so well."

He was slowly increasing the speed off his hips. All you could manage was incoherent whines as his momentum bounced you back and forth.

"Toshi, Toshi," You panted.

"I don't think so baby girl," he slapped your thigh. "You know what I want to hear."

You couldn't be rational, not when he was pounding into you. All you knew was pleasure in this moment. How could you not give the man what he wanted when he was fucking you dumb.

"Mmm daddy, hurts so good."

"Ah- fuck yeah. I knew you were a little pain slut. You want me to fuck you like a whore and then treat you like my little princess?"

You nodded, gasping for air.

"You've been such a good little mommy, I think you deserve this little treat huh?"

You didn't respond, stubbornly refusing to tell the man what he was desperate to hear.

He shifted to a painfully slow pace as he would pull almost completely out just to slam back into your abused whole.

"And here I thought you wanted to cum, I can always stop here, finish myself later-"

"No! No no no, don't stop."

"Then repeat after me: I'm such a good mommy."

As you stayed silent until he began to move at a snails pace. So close to losing your high.

"O-kay, okay, I-I've been a good mom-mommy," You cried tried to buck against the giant.

And just like that your boss was pushing you back to the edge of an orgasm. You were sobbing from pleasure and frustration.

"I know,” He growled. “Fucking good girl, taking care of our baby while daddy's working. You're gonna look so pretty knocked up. All glowing and swollen. Bet your tits are gonna look so pretty when they get full. Gotta keep you stuffed with my cum so our little boy can have a sibling."

[intheticklecloset]

Middle Seat (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

This idea was sooo cute and so much fun to write about! Thank you so much for the suggestion and your incredible patience, as this is the FINAL PROMPT I had to fill! I'm all caught up as of this fic! Thank you again, and enjoy! ^^

~

“Move it, nerd!” Bakugou shouted over his shoulder at Deku, who was hurrying to catch up. The bus that was going to take them to their off-campus training grounds for the day was about to leave, and they were the last two to leave the dorms. Everyone else had already boarded.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Deku panted, sprinting the last few steps to the doors, nearly bowling his friend over in the process.

Bakugou turned around and punched his arm. “Get a hold of yourself, idiot.”

“S-Sorry, Kacchan.”

Once on the bus, the two stood awkwardly for a moment, trying to find a place to sit. Most of the seats had been filled already – all but one in the back. Bakugou strode toward it and plopped himself down next to Todoroki, who had claimed the window. Deku wandered toward the back as well, hoping to find another open spot, but no such luck.

The bus started moving, making him lose his footing and nearly fall in the middle of the aisle.

Todoroki poked his head around Bakugou. “You can sit with us, Midoriya.”

“Like heck he can,” the blonde snapped. “You and I barely fit as it is.”

“Because you’re taking up so much room. Just move over.”

“I’m not getting all buddy-buddy with that loser.”

Todoroki huffed out a sigh. “Fine, then you take the window seat and I’ll sit next to him.”

Deku was about to suggest that he could just stay standing, but then he remembered this bus ride was supposed to be almost half an hour, and he didn’t want to stand up for that long. He also didn’t want to sit in the aisle. So he waited quietly while his two friends swapped places, Todoroki scooting over enough for Deku to mostly be able to share the seat.

“Thanks, Todoroki,” he murmured gratefully, offering a smile.

“Of course.”

Bakugou grunted, shoving an elbow into Todoroki’s side. “You’re squishing me, icy-hot.”

Todoroki grunted right back. “Deal with it.”

“Don’t tell me to deal with it.” The blonde grabbed onto his side with intention then, digging deep, forcing the half-and-half hero to let out a surprised squeal and jerk away from him, sending Midoirya into the aisle once more.

“Boys!” Aizawa snapped from the front of the bus. “You’d better not be fighting back there.”

“W-We’re not, Mr. Aizawa,” Deku called back. “We promise!”

“Move over,” Torodoki hissed, moving back to his previous position to allow Deku back onto the small bus seat with them. “It’s only a half an hour. Next time get onto the bus faster so you have a better seat.”

“You think I wanted to be late? This nerd is the reason I was running behind.”

“Why’s it my fault?” Deku protested.

“Guys, don’t do this now,” Todoroki grumbled, getting irritated with them both, “or this is going to be a long ride. Just try to get along, okay?”

Deku was content to do as Todoroki asked, but of course, Bakugou was not. He pinched the icy-hot’s side again. “I don’t take orders from you.”

Todoroki bit his lip to keep from squealing again, but he couldn’t help the smile on his face. “Stop doing that. You know it tickles.”

“Yeah? Well, if it gets you to move over…” The blonde pinched him again.

Deku was nearly toppled into the aisle once more, but desperate not to fall out of his seat and incur Aizawa’s wrath, he did the only thing he could think of instead. He pinched Todoroki’s other side. “Kacchan, please just try to deal with it. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Bakugou jabbed his ribs. “And I don’t want to get flattened against the window.”

“The seat’s only so big.” Deku mirrored his friend’s actions. “We’ll just have to live with it.”

“G-Guys,” Todoroki huffed, giggling quietly into the palm of his hand. “S-Stop, that tickles!”

“Does it, now?” Bakugou smirked, seeking out his side with renewed purpose and vigor. “Guess it sucks you volunteered to sit in the middle then, huh?”

“Nohohoho!” Todoroki pleaded, giggles growing louder. He slapped his other hand over top of his first one. “Dohohohon’t!”

Deku smiled. This scene had quickly gone from frustrating to advantageous, and he was enjoying every second of it. “I’ve heard you’re really ticklish, Todoroki. Is that true?” He also drilled a bit harder now, aiming for his friend’s ribs.

Todoroki tried to fold himself over in an attempt to escape, having nowhere else he could really go. His giggling was becoming frantic. “Y-Yehehehes, it’s true! P-Plehehease don’t—”

Enjoying himself as well, Bakugou found the hollow of Todoroki’s underarm and scribbled, smirking when the half-and-half hero threw himself against the back of the seat, one hand trying to push him away while the other stayed clamped firmly over his mouth. Even so, his laughter was unmistakable.

“Wow, you really are ticklish!” Deku giggled, squeezing at his hip while aiming for his other underarm at the same time.

Todoroki was frantically stomping his feet on the floor now. “Plehehehehease dohohohohohon’t!” he cried, doing his best to keep his voice down and failing miserably. “Nohohohoho! It t-tihihihihihickles!”

“Heh. This may not be such a bad arrangement after all,” Bakugou observed, grabbing the hand that was covering Todoroki’s mouth and pulling it away, holding onto the wrist firmly. “Go on, let it out. Let the whole bus hear how ticklish you are.”

Todoroki let out a distressed whine. “No, plehehehehease, I’ll do ahahahanything! Just stohohop!”

Deku grabbed onto his other wrist and moved even further down to squeeze at his thigh, grinning all the while. Todoroki tossed his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth desperately against the flood of laughter that threatened to burst forth. He shook his head, struggling against his captors.

“Nohohohohoho, no – AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Finally, he couldn’t hold back anymore, his hysterics unleashed in a wild screech of laughter, drawing the attention of everyone on the bus. “NO MOHOHOHOHOHOHORE!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Several of their classmates cooed at him playfully.

“Aww, he’s ticklish!” said one of the girls.

One of the guys added, “Listen to that laugh! Dude, I’ve never seen him smiling so big.”

Todoroki was flushed with embarrassment, but he couldn’t stop laughing. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAP!! MEHEHEHEHERCY!! GUHUHUHUYS!!”

“Get him, guys!” someone shouted.

“Tickle him good! He’s always so serious.”

“You could take it a little easier though, maybe?”

Deku observed Todoroki carefully, worried he might be distressed about this situation. To his surprise, he found that his friend actually seemed to be enjoying himself, despite the dark red blush on his cheeks.

“Well, would you listen to that?” Bakugou teased, lifting his arm above his head. “They want more laughter!”

“Tickle, tickle,” Deku dared to tease, blushing a little himself.

“GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Todoroki begged, shaking his head, kicking the floor. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE, I CAHAHAHAHAN’T!! IT TIHIHIHIHICKLES!! MEHEHEHEHEHERCY!!”

“Tch, whatever, icy-hot.” At last Bakugou let him be, and Deku followed his lead. “Just be thankful we can’t reach your feet like this.”

Another chorus of coos went up from their classmates, along with some scattered applause and general shouts of encouragement.

Todoroki groaned and sank down in his seat, blushing furiously but still smiling wide.

“You okay?” Deku asked him.

He nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.” Then, with an added giggle, he covered up his face. “I’m so ticklish. It’s almost unfair.”

Bakugou scoffed. “At least you like it.”

Deku and Todoroki both looked at him. “But…don’t you like it, too?”

“Shut up!”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: Something causes Lan Qiren to just SNAP, go absolutely fucking feral, and run off to become a rogue cultivator.

Beautifully Spent

- Chapter 1 -

aka Five Times Lan Qiren Left The Lan Sect Behind

“It is your duty, Qiren.”

“Is it?” Lan Qiren asked coldly. “I believe you’re thinking of my brother. You might remember him – the sect leader?”

He’d never spoken that coldly to anyone, least of all an honored elder, one of his own teachers, but he had no choice.

Ever since he was young, Lan Qiren wanted to become a traveling musician - to wander the world freely, without the burdens that would fall on his older brother, the prospective sect leader. Even as he got older, he'd never quite let go of that ambition, refining it until it had become not only a dream but a plan.

He would see that plan come to fruition, no matter what it took.

His teacher looked at him helplessly. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked. “You know your brother has chosen seclusion –”

“I know that in the eyes of the sect I have never been a quarter the man he is,” Lan Qiren said quietly. “I know that in each instance that we have argued, you have all taken his side. I know that I was asked, time and time again, to yield – because he is the elder, because he is the heir, because he is the more talented of us two. I have always yielded, because I am a filial son, a good brother, and I love my sect. I have always yielded.”

His teacher cast his eyes down to the ground.

An acknowledgement of guilt.

“I will not yield this time,” Lan Qiren said simply. “This is the rest of my life, honored teacher. This is my entire life. For once, let himbe the one to yield – to do his duty to his sect, as he was always meant to.”

“But –”

“I have always been here for him.” Lan Qiren did not allow him to interrupt. “I have been his scapegoat when things have not gone his way, I have been his pawn in political games, I have even been his punching bag when he needed to vent his irrational anger. Everything he has had the freedom to do, he has done because he has had me here. If I were not here, would he be able to go into seclusion?”

His teacher was silent.

“He would not,” Lan Qiren concluded. “To go into seclusion when you are the only option to lead the sect is to be an unfilial descendant of our ancestors. And so, if I am not here, he would be obligated to live up to his duties.”

“His heart has just been broken. Do you have no empathy for him?”

“As much as I do for the woman who was forced by circumstances to agree to marry him, and no more.”

“Qiren…”

“Think of it as me being dead, honored teacher,” Lan Qiren said, and ignored his teacher’s flinch at such inauspicious words. “Do you need me to remove my forehead ribbon before I go?”

“Qiren! Of course not!”

“Ask my brother,” Lan Qiren said dryly. “He will have the final word, as usual, and he does not like not getting his way.”

He left that day, his head held high.

He did his best not to think of his brother, who had, in his own way, wanted freedom, too.

Lan Qiren travelled, after that. It was just as he’d always planned it: quiet nights along forest paths, visits to small towns in out-of-the-way corners of the world – inquiring and then solving any issues they had that required a cultivator, and playing for them when no such issues remained. He had anticipated hardship, knowing himself to be a rich young master who’d never really faced the world; he hadn’t anticipated kindness: a few married women in one town taking the time to show him how to do laundry, giggling at him all the while, a group of young woodcutters in the next the best way to forage and cook food when one was hungry, a merchant and his wife teaching him how to bargain to avoid getting cheated…in time, through the generosity and enthusiasm of others, he learned all the skills he needed.

He refused payment for night-hunts – amazingly, his sect did not cut him off as he’d almost expected them to, and he was still able to collect his usual allowance – but accepted it for his music, and from his place behind his guqin he watched, quiet and content, as life swirled around him in all its myriad forms.

In between music and night-hunts, he idly taught some skills to the children in the towns he passed through – the vast majority were common people, completely lacking in cultivation skills, but his sect’s rules and the philosophy behind them were applicable in far more situations than that, and basic martial skills in even more. Whenever he stayed somewhere for more than a few days, he added in lessons in basic literacy, mostly because the idea of not having books at hand was abhorrent to him; the parents involved were generally more grateful that he was keeping their children out of trouble than especially interested in what he was teaching them, but it’d never hurt anyone to know a little bit of reading.

When he happened upon a place already governed by another sect, he did not take particular care either to avoid or to approach them; if they happened to meet, and to invite him to stay with them, he would. Lao Nie tracked him down six times for that very purpose, citing increasingly less plausible excuses, before Lan Qiren finally agreed to make the Unclean Realm a regular stop on his travels just to make him stop; in contrast, Cangse Sanren just showed up at the camp he had made for himself one day, her husband as always by her side, and simply refused to leave for the next three months.

He did not visit the Cloud Recesses.

Not when he heard about how his brother had, however reluctantly, come out from seclusion and begun to do the work of sect leader, and do it well, the Lan sect prospering under his leadership as they had always expected to. Not when he got news that his nephew was born; not when he heard that one nephew had become two. Not even when he heard that his brother’s wife had died, though the thought of that miserable woman’s self-inflicted fate had moved him enough to write a letter of condolence to his brother – their first contact in seven years.

Lan Qiren did not expect anything to come of that impulse, though perhaps he should have known better: it wasn’t more than a week later that he received a letter in return, the heavy formal parchment used by the Lan sect as familiar to him as the back of his hand, his brother’s equally formal calligraphy very nearly as familiar.

The words on it weren’t familiar at all.

I have made a terrible mistake, his brother wrote. I need your help.

Lan Qiren was perhaps not especially filial to his sect, having abandoned it as readily as he did – but despite everything, he did love his brother.

He went home.

“Lan Huan, courtesy name Xichen,” his brother said, nodding at the small child, pudgy and fat and adorable, quivering like a pudding even as he tried to force a smile onto his face, clutching onto a baby only a few months old, the little one strangely solemn despite the inexpert manhandling. “Lan Zhan, courtesy name Wangji.”

Lan Qiren was not as shy as he used to be, and he had gotten better at dealing with children. He knelt down until he was level with them, though he did not force himself to adopt any expression that did not come naturally. “Hello,” he said. “I’m your uncle.”

“Hello, uncle,” Lan Xichen said.

Lan Qiren held out a hand and waited, even as his brother took his leave, busier than ever. It took a little while, but Lan Xichen eventually put his own hand in his, and walked with him; after a little while, he even entrusted him with little Lan Wangji, fussing until Lan Qiren had tucked him into the corner of his arm in a manner he found appropriate.

By the time his brother found them again, Lan Xichen was chattering on and on about his xiao lessons, while Lan Qiren nodded along and added his own observations – he was decently skilled at the xiao himself; while it was not his preferred instrument, there were times when it was easier to carry than a guqin, and he had had time, when he was younger, to indulge himself in learning more than one instrument.

When Lan Xichen saw his father, he fell silent at once. He did not hide behind Lan Qiren’s robes, though Lan Qiren half-thought he wanted to – his little hand trembled in Lan Qiren’s palm.

“Would you like to take your brother back?” Lan Qiren asked him. Lan Wangji was a good baby, crying only a few times, each time responding well and easily to the usual things a child his age wanted – milk, a burp, attention. Moreover, Lan Xichen was good with him, thoughtful and careful; Lan Qiren had no concerns entrusting the baby to him, and Lan Xichen brightened a little when he realized that, nodding happily and taking Lan Wangji, pausing only a moment to glance worriedly at his father before scurrying off.

Lan Qiren looked at his brother.

“He’s afraid of me,” his brother said. “You can tell, can’t you?”

A blind man could tell. Lan Qiren said nothing.

“Wangji cries whenever I hold him, too, even though he almost never cries the rest of the time. He’s not even a year old, and he already knows.”

“Knows?”

His brother looked out into the horizon. His hands were behind his back, clasped in a formal pose. “That I’ll ruin them, too.”

Lan Qiren put his own hands behind his back as well. After a few moments, he said, “You care for them both. That’s not nothing.”

Their own father hadn’t managed even that. He had treated Lan Qiren with utter indifference, while treasuring his eldest beyond the point of reason, encouraging him to always think only of himself; the seeds of their estrangement were planted long before either of them knew it, each of them learning different lessons from their father’s mismanagement – Lan Qiren how to be inferior and doubt himself, his brother to be self-absorbed and careless with the feelings of others; Lan Qiren to bend himself to the point of breaking, his brother to refuse to bend at all.

It had served neither of them well.

“I don’t know what love is, except possession,” his brother said. “Xichen torments himself to try to live up to my expectations, and all I’ve managed to teach him, other than fear, is how to say yes to everything just to make people go away. I find myself falling into the habit of thinking of him as an extension of myself, which is still more than I can do with Wangji, who doesn’t even cry like a regular child should…” He paused. “You didn’t cry much as a child either.”

Lan Qiren glanced at his brother, surprised. He hadn’t known his brother had paid enough attention to him back then to even notice.

His brother smiled thinly. “Our family is known for its quiet children, did you know? I hadn’t, but they told me after Wangji was born. Apparently, there’s a few in every generation: a little slow, a little strange, with minds that don’t work quite the same way as the rest of us. The ones that don’t like to look you in the eye – sometimes they learn to speak, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they’re brilliant. As babies, they’re generally a little too quiet. There were three in our father’s generation, but in ours there was only you. And now, there’s Wangji…”

He shook his head.

“I wronged you before, Qiren. I don’t want to do it again – I don’t want to know what sort of father I’d be to a child like you. I’m not willing to risk waiting to find out, either.”

When Lan Qiren left the Cloud Recesses, he took with him a qiankun pouch weighed down with more money than he’d ever had in his life, two children, one smiling happily as the other burbled quietly, and his brother’s trust.

He had no idea what to do with any of it.

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song viii.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. 

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader   au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, angst, just straight up angst and drama, arguments, both seokjin and nana are frustrated, both have reasons to feel hurt, both make mistakes  words; 5,122

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii  • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

You looked at Nana, chest a little tight, something heavy in your stomach. When your eyes locked the corners of her mouth curled upwards. “The stepmom!” She sneered. 

Your face fell, confused at first, as you attempted to make sense of her words, of her anger. You didn’t understand what was going on, but unable to stop yourself, irritation began creeping its way up your body, heat prickling your face. Confrontation made you uncomfortable, but under appropriate triggers, you often saw red. You opened your mouth, ready to say something – you didn’t quite know what – but then your gaze fell to Arin. Still clutching her mom’s hand. Her eyes were on you now, still wide and brimming with tears. She looked frightened. You came to your senses. 

There was no good getting angry. Especially in front of a child. By your side, Seokjin straightened his back, letting go of your hand to step in front of you slightly. You appreciated the thought, but you didn’t really need protecting. You could look after yourself.  

“Stop embarrassing yourself, Nana.” 

Caught off guard for the second time in under five minutes, the tone of Seokjin’s voice threw you for a loop. The venom you heard unnerved you, a sick feeling twisting your gut. You’d heard him stressed, you’d heard him tense, you’d even heard him stern a few times on the phone, but you’d never heard his voice filled with such bite like this. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Nana spat back, her long hair flipping around as she raised her hand to point at him. “Not when you’ve been playing house with your daughter’s teacher, letting my daughter call her stepmom.” 

Seokjin chuckled, the sound humourless. He shook his head, practically laughing in her face. “I don’t know where you’ve heard that from because it’s not true.” The look on Nana’s face told you she didn’t believe a word he said.  

Seokjin bent down, attention on Arin. He held his hand out, wanting her to take it. “Arin, come here,” he asked, voice gentle, nothing like how he’d spoken to her mother. She let go of Nana’s hand and slowly made her way over. He immediately wrapped his arms around her middle. “Tell daddy where you got that word from.” She still looked afraid, hesitating as she opened her mouth. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad at you,” he reassured, stroking her hair. 

“Mommy is.” Arin’s voice shook, one lone tear falling down her cheek. It broke your heart. 

“Mommy isn’t mad at you.” Seokjin’s voice was a murmur, but as he looked up at his ex-wife he had to try his best to sound composed. “Right?” 

Nana stared at him for a moment, her dark eyes piercing through him almost, but he didn’t flinch. Her gaze fell to the back of her daughter’s head, immediately softening, the regret obvious on her face. “No, darling, mommy isn’t mad at you. I’d never be mad at you.” 

Her words comforted Arin, and she looked up at her father, small voice still trembling with emotion as she explained. “Suzie told me that’s what Y/N is because she’s your girlfriend. She has one too.”

Seokjin exhaled slowly. “So, you heard it from your friend?” Arin nodded, and he quickly embraced her, rubbing her back as he soothed her. “That’s okay. No need to be upset.” You heard her sniff into his shoulder, but Seokjin’s attention was already on Nana again. 

“Happy now?” He shot, not giving her any time to reply. “Now get out of my house.” 

“Excuse me?” Her nostrils flared. 

“You heard me. Get the hell out of my house!” 

“Seokjin,” you breathed, reaching for his shoulder. He needed to remember everything he was saying was being heard by his daughter. He might be mad right now but he needed to think of Arin. 

As if Nana realised too, she took control. “Arin, go upstairs to your room and let me talk with your father.” 

Seokjin’s eyes flashed in anger. “Don’t tell her what to do in my home.” Nana scoffed, but Seokjin’s attention was back on Arin. He cupped her face in his hands.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go and play upstairs for a little while, okay? Daddy will come and check on you soon.” She nodded slowly, her tears dried. At least that was a positive. He kissed her cheek and stood up, encouraging her to make her way out of the room and upstairs with a nod. As she passed by you, you gave her a small smile. She returned it. You thought someone should at least accompany her to her room, but you thought best not to suggest it. It wasn’t your place. 

There was silence, a few moments as they waited for Arin to be safely out of earshot. Your heart drummed against your ribcage, still feeling nauseous. This wasn’t over just yet. Nana had no intentions of leaving. 

“Hypocrite,” she scoffed under her breath. 

“What did you say?” Glancing over at Seokjin, you saw his jaw was clenched, his gaze hard, unwavering as he stared at her. 

“I called you a hypocrite.” She sounded unbothered, eyes finding yours. “You don’t know him at all, sadly. You’ll soon find out how miserable he is. How frustrating it is when he always has to right. Mr. Perfect, aren’t you, Jin?” She was trying to rile him up, get a reaction. “Could never do anything wrong.” 

The way she called him Jin made you feel funny. It was so…personal. It had never crossed your mind to use the shortened version of his name. It had always been Seokjin for you. 

“Nice try,” he gave a hollow laugh. “Say what you want, we don’t care.” 

That much was true. Nana’s words wouldn’t make you doubt anything. Your relationship with Seokjin was solid. His relationship with Nana was nothing similar. 

“So when were you planning on telling me?”

Just like that you felt your heart drop, turning to look at Seokjin on instinct. You must have understood wrong. Nana knew about you, right? He’d told her about you, surely? 

“Did you just think you could pretend I didn’t exist?” Seokjin stayed silent, only infuriating Nana even more. “Answer me! How long has it been going on for?” 

“It’s none of your business!” He exploded causing you to jump. You had never once heard him raise his voice. His face was red, his blood pressure soaring. 

“None of my business?!” She cried, laughing in disbelief. His shouting did nothing to deter her. They were used to arguing, you guessed. “It is when my daughter is concerned.” 

It was Seokjin’s turn to scoff. “Oh, so now you care? You’re a joke.” 

Nana’s expression faltered. It took a moment for her to compose herself. “What is that supposed to mean?” Her tone was icy. 

Seokjin didn’t give her an answer. “I don’t owe you anything, Nana. You’re nothing to me anymore.” 

“I’m the mother of your daughter!” She was enraged, her eyes wide as she glowered. “You shouldn’t have kept this from me. I had no clue, Jin!” His indifference infuriated her even more. “Not one! Did you tell Arin to keep quiet?”

That had him biting, face scrunching up at her ludicrous claim. “Of course I didn’t.” 

“Then why,” she demanded, “why was I so oblivious?!” 

“Do I come up in conversation much? Maybe there’s your answer.” Seokjin shrugged. “When was the last time we were in the same room together?”

“Don’t! No, Jin, don’t use that as an excuse.” Nana’s voice wavered, words dotted with an emotion you hadn’t heard yet. 

You felt a pang of guilt. You’d been so oblivious too. Hadn’t realised she had no clue of your existence. You understood her frustrations. It was difficult not to. Seokjin was adamant though. Ruled by his emotions. He couldn’t see his fault. 

“You let our daughter stay with a stranger last weekend!”

But that hurt. 

You weren’t a stranger. You had known Arin for months. You adored that little girl and she liked having you around. You weren’t just anyone. Desperately, you tried to keep it together. Logically yes, you were a stranger to Nana. She had a right to be mad. You knew that. 

Although Seokjin didn’t see it that way, defending you angrily. “Y/N is not a stranger!” 

“To me she is!” Nana shouted. “I didn’t have a clue. What if something had happened to Arin?”

You wanted to say something. To tell her you understood her reservations. Maybe you even wanted to stick up for yourself, but you couldn’t find the words. Guilt was eating you up. 

“Just shut your mouth,” Seokjin hissed. His defensiveness made you nervous. “You don’t care. If you did you would have dropped everything and said yes when I called you.” 

“I was working.” Nana ran a hand through her hair, face patched red. “You think I didn’t want to say yes? I thought you’d just cancel or ask your parents to help out.” Then her eyes fell on you, that familiar sneer on her face. “Instead, you asked her.” 

Taken aback, you opened your mouth, words rushing out. “I’m really sorry you had to find out about our relationship this way, I… I thought–”

“I don’t want to hear it, stepmom.” 

Your cheeks flushed, anger bubbling at her dismissal. She wasn’t even going to hear what you had to say? “I’ve never referred to myself as Arin’s stepmother.” 

She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “And what if I don’t believe you?” 

Before you could defend yourself Seokjin flew in, in front of you once more. You felt fresh anger, but everything was moving so fast you didn’t know how to place it. “Don’t speak to her like that. God, you’re such a condescending bitch.” 

“And you’re a smug, arrogant bastard.” She shot right back immediately. 

Seokjin scoffed. “Don’t try to deflect. You’ve just heard Arin say she learned that word from a friend. Do you think I’d force my own daughter to lie?” 

Nana stared at him, her breathing laboured with anger. Her eyes flicked to you and then back at Seokjin quickly, a devious smirk spreading across her face. “She’s younger, Seokjin. Having a midlife crisis?” 

Seokjin exhaled slowly, his voice calm as he replied, lips twitching up in amusement. “Your goading won’t work.” 

Although she still tried. “What would Arin’s school think? Knowing you’re fucking your daughter’s teacher.” 

You didn’t take kindly to threats, no matter the situation. Straightening your back you spoke clearly, voice raised a little. “I’m not her teacher anymore and the school already knows.”  

“There’s nothing you can do, Nana,” Seokjin sighed softly, taking your hand. It didn’t feel as comforting as it usually did. “So just let me be happy. It’s the least you can do.” 

That did it. Nana saw red instantly. “Oh, quit playing the victim!” She exclaimed, laughing at his seeming absurdity. You prayed Arin couldn’t hear all the commotion. The house was large enough, the walls thick enough, but who really knew. “Am I not allowed to be mad? You’ve kept this relationship,” she mocked, eyeing your laced fingers, “a secret this entire time. You’ve been playing happy families with my daughter.” There was a beat of silence. “I’m Arin’s mother.” 

“Yes, but that’s all you are.” 

A noise fell from Nana’s mouth. “I know, I know, you hate me. You’ve made that abundantly clear over the years.” 

“I don’t hate you, Nana.” With a sigh, Seokjin let go of your hand, rubbing his temples. “That would imply I still care. I don’t. I stopped caring a long time ago.” 

Nana rolled her eyes. “This again.” You on the other hand were lost. 

Seokjin’s eyes locked on hers, gaze steady, just like his words that seemed to knock you for six. “I stopped caring the moment I found you in bed with another man.”

You probably couldn’t hide the shock from your face, mind reeling, but they didn’t seem to notice. You were barely concentrating on what they were saying anymore. 

“Shut up.” Nana shot, provoking him further. “You never cared, Jin. Never. I did you a favour when I fucked Jaehyun. It gave you the perfect excuse to leave because you were too much of a coward to do it otherwise.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night” Seokjin scoffed quietly, but you could tell by his face he was visibly irritated. Maybe. He felt like a stranger right now. “Believe what you want.” 

“I will because it’s a fact.” 

Seokjin’s chest heaved with anger, breathing heavily as he failed to keep calm. “I didn’t leave sooner because I wanted Arin to be happy!” His voice broke with emotion. “I wanted to stay together for Arin’s sake.” 

“And look how bitter that made you.” Nana laughed, her eyes quickly finding yours again, remembering you existed. “Are you taking notes?” She folded her arms across her chest. “This is what will happen. He’ll promise you the world and then a few years later hate your guts.” 

You looked at the floor, unable to rebuff her claims even if you wanted to. Your thoughts slipped to last night, out on the deck… The way Seokjin had held you, gazed at you, the words he’d said... I want to give you the world. It was silly to let Nana’s words sting, but they did, nevertheless. Last night felt like a lifetime ago.

You felt a strong arm embrace you, wrapping around your shoulders as Seokjin held you to him. It did little to comfort you. Your head was whirring, thoughts swarming you. “Y/N is nothing like you, so don’t.” He warned, glaring across at Nana. “Don’t you dare try to compare our relationship to the one I had with you.” 

Nana laughed loudly, her face contorting as she yelled. “What am I like then, Jin? Go on! Tell me! I’m so fucking curious!” 

“You’re a cold, heartless cow who can’t even be bothered to be a mother to her own daughter!” His words flew out as if they’d been impatiently waiting for the opportunity. 

“Seokjin!” You exclaimed in shock, spinning your head to look at him. He was letting his emotions rule his head, so much so, he didn’t even bat an eyelid at your voice, continuing his tirade. 

His arm let you go as he stepped closer to his ex-wife. “Do you know why Arin probably felt so comfortable calling Y/N her stepmom?” It was a question not meant to be answered. “It’s because she’s been there for her these past few months. Where have you been, huh? She’s so used to you cancelling plans that she always expects the worse.” 

You were gobsmacked, unsure what had just left his mouth as you tried to make sense of his words. He couldn’t be comparing you both. He couldn’t be using you to hurt Nana. Right? 

“That’s not fair, I haven’t cancelled in weeks.” Nana’s voice was quiet, a far cry from her earlier volume, and you took a glance, noticing that her wide eyes were shining in the sunlight that streamed through the window. She seemed smaller now, less imposing. 

“Bravo,” Seokjin spat, beginning to slowly clap his hands. “What do you want, a round of applause?” 

“I can’t help it I’m busy with work. That’s why we agreed she’d live with you.” Nana sounded clearly upset now, Seokjin’s words striking a nerve. You couldn’t help but feel bad for her. 

“And I’m not busy?!” Seokjin wasn’t done. “Your excuses don’t work on me. They never have.” 

“I love my daughter. Don’t you dare try to insinuate otherwise.” 

Seokjin wasn’t listening. “You came here just to create a scene. You didn’t think about Arin at all, did you? You made her give you all the details just to twist the knife in. That’s all you care about. You can’t handle the thought of me being happy because you’re so goddamn miserable!” 

“Just come out and say it, Jin!” She shouted, arms out. “You think I’m a terrible mother.” 

With a casual shrug of his shoulders, he replied, “I never said that, but if the shoe fits.” 

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, a sick feeling turning your stomach. You didn’t want to be here anymore. You didn’t want to be involved in this shouting match. You didn’t want to see your boyfriend this angry, you didn’t want to hear him speak like this. 

Eventually, Nana’s voice pierced through the silence. It wavered but she kept her cool, head held up high. “Well, thank you, Jin. Thank you so much for finally telling me how you feel. How very brave of you. Finally.” 

You watched as she straightened her jacket and smoothed down her hair, and then she took a step forward. She was heading for the door. 

“That’s it?” Seokjin scoffed, his voice hoarse. “You’re leaving without saying goodbye to your daughter?”

Nana didn’t reply, she didn’t even look at him, just carried on walking out of the room. You heard her heels against the tiles of the hallway, steps retreating. 

“You really have no shame!” He called after her as you both heard the front door open, and then it clicked shut. “Fuck!” 

You jumped at the sudden raise of tone, watching him kick the footrest beside the chair across the room in temper. He had his back to you, his shoulders shuddering with his heavy breathing. You swallowed, feeling your throat dry but you couldn’t say anything. This was all new to you. This side of your relationship, this side of Seokjin. Actually, this whole situation was unlike anything you’d been involved in before. You’d had your fair share of relationship drama in the past, that was a given, but this… You were in over your head. This wasn’t about you. This was a situation involving Seokjin and Nana. You didn’t know what to say or do to make it better. In all honesty, you didn’t even want to try. 

“Daddy?” 

The tiny voice from behind startled you both, and you whipped your head around to see Arin in the doorway. Her eyes were pulled wide, worried and confused. It made your heart hurt. A small part of you couldn’t help but feel to blame. 

“Did mommy leave?” She asked, her gaze on her father, who was staring blankly ahead. 

“Yes, she did,” was all he said, stunning you in the process. 

“Seokjin, you can’t just say it like that!” You exclaimed, looking at him properly for the first time. Arin had walked into the room by now, hovering by your side, a hand to her mouth as she flicked her thumbnail over her teeth nervously.   

Seokjin’s eyes met yours, refocusing before something flickered inside of them – realisation. He looked down at his daughter, voice softening instantly. “She had to go home, Arin. Something came up.” 

You could tell by her face she didn’t quite believe him. She was a bright kid, not that you thought Seokjin was undermining her intelligence, but she knew something was wrong and you didn’t think it was fair to just gloss over the issue. 

“Why don’t you watch some cartoons?” He suggested, guiding her to the sofa. “I’ll make you something to drink. What would you like?” 

She gave him a small smile as he passed her the remote control. “Hot chocolate, please.” 

The tiniest of smiles lifted the corners of his mouth too. “Okay, one hot chocolate coming right up.” He turned to you, a hand brushing yours for a brief second, voice low as he asked you a question. “Can you stay with her?”

Your nod was barely there, and you watched him walk out, heading for the kitchen. After a moment’s delay, you joined Arin on the sofa, attention on the television, watching the cartoon characters bounce around the screen, but you were in a world of your own. Arin’s voice’s tore you from it, her question rattling you. 

“Why did she go?” 

“I don’t know.” You hated yourself for lying to her but it wasn’t your place to explain. Especially not now given the circumstances. Your thoughts were captured once more. Nana had been clueless to your existence this whole time. Had you been a fool to assume otherwise? 

“Did they argue?” 

Your eyes fell to Arin’s, wanting to embrace her but thought better of it. You’d have to reassure her another way. With words. If you could. “It’s nothing to worry about, okay?” You smiled, the action stiff. “They’re just a bit angry at one another.” 

“Because of me?”

Her question broke your heart. You shook your head hastily. “Of course not.” 

She didn’t respond, turning back to the TV. She didn’t seem visibly upset, nothing like earlier, but maybe this was worse. She seemed despondent, quiet. You were reminded of when you were a kid, hearing your parents argue nonstop before their divorce. At times you used to feel at fault too. 

“I’m sorry I called you my stepmom, I didn’t know it was wrong.” As she spoke she kept staring at the television, voice quiet. 

“Arin, it’s okay, sweetie,” you told her, this time unable to stop yourself from wrapping an arm around her shoulders. You wanted to comfort her. She needed comforting. “You’ve done nothing wrong at all.” 

You knew what children were like together. The conversation she’d had with her friend had been innocent. She’d had no clue what the weight of such a word could mean, or even do. None of this was her fault. 

You held her for a while, getting consoled yourself almost as well, but time was passing and Seokjin hadn’t come back with her hot chocolate. You glanced at the clock on the wall, he’d been gone fifteen minutes. “I’m going to check on daddy,” you said, pulling away gently. “To see what he’s done with your hot chocolate.” You tried to joke around but your laugh sounded forced. Arin nodded, giving you a tiny smile as you stood up. “I’ll be back soon, okay?” 

You found him in the kitchen, leaning against one of the counters as he held a glass of whiskey in his hand. Arin’s drink wasn’t even half made. Irritation flooded your senses for a moment. You got that he was upset, angry, maybe even a little dazed by the situation, but he still needed to pull himself together and be there for his daughter. Drinking at two o’clock in the afternoon was unacceptable. 

However when he saw you, his expression softened into worry, concern colouring his tone as he asked, “Is she okay?”

You swallowed down your frustration, but once again your mind was beginning to whir. You had so many questions, so many answers that you needed, but now wasn’t the time. He needed to make sure Arin was settled and then you both could talk. 

You walked further into the room, speaking as you went. “She’s upset. She thinks she did something wrong, that’s why you and Nana argued.” 

Seokjin sounded regretful when he sighed. His eyes closed, fingers tightening around the tumbler. “Do you think she heard any of it?”

In a clipped voice you replied. “I hope not.” 

Hearing your tone he opened his eyes, coming to his senses almost. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, placing his drink down on the counter. He moved towards you, a hand ghosting over your back. “Are you okay?” Despite his tone of voice being one you were familiar with, his concern did little to console you. All you could do was nod your head.  

“Don’t take any notice of her, okay?” He continued, his voice slowly changing again. “This is what she does. She pushes and pushes. She can’t stand–”

“Seokjin, enough,” you begged, exhausted. You could hear him becoming more and more irate. 

The hand on your back froze and then dropped to his side. “Are you sticking up for her?” He more or less accused. 

“What?” You looked at him, baffled. “Of course I’m not. You just need to calm down. I know you’re angry but your daughter needs you right now.” 

His features smoothed out and he stepped back, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re right.” He sounded apologetic. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” You watched as he walked towards the fridge, getting out a carton of milk to pour inside Arin’s mug, chocolate powder waiting. He mixed it together with a spoon and placed it in the microwave, setting the timer. As it whirled around, you spoke again. “We can talk about it later.” 

There was silence as he placed the milk back inside the refrigerator. He closed the door. “Are you mad at me?” 

“No.” 

He didn’t believe you. Turning back he folded his arms across his chest, staring at you. “She’s gotten under your skin, hasn’t she? That’s what she does.” 

You heard yourself sigh. You didn’t want to do this now. Not with Arin just down the hallway. Why was he being so insistent? Your mind flew through the tonne of questions you wanted to unleash his way, but one slipped from your mouth before you could stop it. Before you could even acknowledge your own words. 

“Did she really cheat on you?” 

Seokjin looked taken aback, whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. Maybe you should have gotten your priorities straight, but stood in front of him right now, you felt deceived. You watched as he gave you a brief nod. Your heart dropped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He lifted his shoulders, not meeting your eyes. “It wasn’t a big deal.” 

“Not a big deal?” Your voice raised and you willed yourself to keep it down. “It seems like it was the reason you divorced her, Seokjin.” 

The microwaved beeped but you both ignored it. “It was over long before then.” He chuckled humourlessly. “She was right, I was a coward.”

A part of you wanted details but you knew right now wasn’t the time or the place. Besides, you didn’t think he’d share anyway. 

“Is that why you’re mad? Because I didn’t tell you?” He sounded worried, regretful, some other emotions you couldn’t think of right now. 

You sighed softly. “I’m not mad, Seokjin. I’m just… I didn’t know.” 

He went to step forward, to walk towards you but stopped himself. “I’m sorry, I should have told you. Especially with–”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off quickly, not wanting to hear the words you knew he was going to say out loud. You couldn’t bear it. You’d told him about Donghae in a bid to open up – because you trusted him. Why hadn’t Seokjin told you about Nana? You couldn’t help but feel betrayed. You didn’t know if you were being fair or not. 

“I should go and check on Arin,” he said suddenly, moving to the microwave to open it up. “Thank you for taking care of her. It’s more than her own mother could do, and she’s the one who caused this whole mess.” 

“Don’t,” you whispered, closing your eyes. He wasn’t going to do it again. “Don’t do that. Compare us.” Seokjin looked your way, confused now. “I don’t know Nana. I don’t know what your marriage was like, not really, and I don’t know what her relationship with Arin is like. You shouldn’t have said those things to her. She was obviously upset.” 

You understood that people spoke out in anger, that words just flew out, no matter how small the thought was, but it wasn’t an excuse. He was still emotional, but all you wanted him to see was the bigger picture. 

“I don’t care,” he brushed off. “She needed to hear a few home truths.” 

You scoffed. “And you used me to really drive them in, didn’t you?” You continued regardless of his frown. “It’s not a competition. I’m your girlfriend. I’m not even Arin’s stepmother. We haven’t talked about that yet,” – Seokjin went to speak over you but you stopped him with a hand in the air – “and I know Arin made an innocent mistake, but it obviously hurt Nana. She had no clue I existed, Seokjin. Not one!” 

He did look guilty at that, dropping his gaze, but you weren’t done. “You can be mad because of how she acted but you’re also at fault…” 

“I know,” he murmured. “I know that and I’m sorry.” 

You weren’t the only one he should be apologising to, but by now you were too exhausted to keep this up. You couldn’t stay here, not when you were sure it would end in an argument. You didn’t want to fight with him. You needed space to think. On your own. 

“I should go.” You told him, noticing his face wrinkle up in confusion. 

He was in front of you immediately, clutching your hand. “Y/N, wait,” his voice was unsteady, “You don’t have to go. I’m really sorry that I made you uncomfortable.” 

You appreciated his sincerity, and had no doubts that he meant his apology, but it still wasn’t enough to get you to stay. An I’m sorry wasn’t what you needed. It wasn’t as simple as that. 

“Honey, please,” he begged softly. “This is me with all my baggage. I’m not perfect.” 

Your brow furrowed. “I never thought you were, Seokjin.” This wasn’t about your so called flawless vision of him. He was human, just like you. Yes, seeing him mad like that had shaken you up at first but it wasn’t why you were leaving. Nor were you leaving because of the situation. Everyone had a history, or “baggage” as Seokjin chose to call it. It didn’t change how you felt about him. It was all just very overwhelming. 

You put your other hand over his, silently telling him to let you go. Above all else he needed to spend time with his daughter. “Go and check on Arin. She’s waiting for her hot chocolate.” You told him softly.  

He clasped your hand tighter. “Please don’t go.” 

“I just need some space to think.” You admitted. 

He watched you for a moment, eyes glassy – you expected yours were too – but ever the gentleman he respected your wishes and didn’t press you any further, no matter how much he wanted to plead with you to stay. Deep down he probably knew it was the right thing to do. If you stayed now no good would come from it. You could speak about everything when you were both ready. Whenever that was.

With a tight nod he slipped his hand from yours. You gave him a soft smile and turned your back to him. He had no choice but to watch you leave. 

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[bimswritings]

Savage Opress x Reader

Request: Open

Warnings:Yandere Themes, canon-typical violence

Summary: On their conquest of the universe, Savage finds himself drawn to one of the newest captives in their spread of power.

A/n: The next chapter of ‘This is our way’ is up on my Ao3. It will be posted here after I finish and upload my current Armorer x reader fic.

__________________________________________________

Your planet wasn’t anything special. Located out in the outer rim, it was little more than a moon compared to its neighbors. Its land was barren and cold, an almost ever present frost covering the ground.

Yet you and your people had made it your home, learning how to grow a small amount of crops and mine the rare metals underneath. A job you had yourself, providing enough money for you and your younger brother to live on until he was old enough to work as well. What was produced was enough to give your people an economy, yet remain under the radar and out of the war that ravaged the rest of the planet. The Republic and Separatist had limited interactions this far out at best, and you were able to enjoy a peaceful life, if not a bit exhausting.

Unfortunately, it was this isolation that had been your saving grace for so long that also proved your downfall.

Their ships arrived in numbers you had never seen before, landing on the grey dirt and unloading copious amounts of armored men and women. Your village didn’t even have time to put up a fight, overpower and subdued before you could even think of a weapon to protect yourself.

Soon you were corralled into the town center, separated into groups seemingly at random. Families were torn apart, mother from child and husband from wife. The entire time your brother clung to your leg, hiding as the armed guards shoved you along through the crowds. You tried to stay out of sight the best you could in an attempt to draw the least amount of attention to yourself, hoping, praying, that you could go unnoticed enough to keep him with you.

Above it all, standing out against the dull sky with their vibrant colors, were two Zabraks. Creatures you had only ever heard about in stories from the occasional trader that passed through, and had been just that, stories, until now. Their horns alone were enough to send shivers down your spine, each one protruding from the crown of theirs heads like a twisted version of a crown. Unlike a crown, you knew they weren’t for decoration. The damage they could undoubtedly do if provoked only solidified their threatening presence.

Now they stood above you all, tattoos illuminated in the light of the setting sun. The shorter red one stood in front, chin raised and chest puffed with pride as he looked over your people with another armored man, this one clearly human. He seemed to not even notice the cold, bare chest on full display for anyone to see the unique markings that marred his skin. Just beyond him stood the second Zabrak. His yellow markings stood out even more than his companions, only emphasized by his large size. None of the others even came close to his height, let alone the bulk you could tell he possessed under his armor. Even from here you could tell he could wrap a single hand around your neck and snap it easily with his strong fingers.

His gaze was just as impassionate, if not more so, seeming more bored than anything as he watched the proceedings.

“Come on! Move it!” One of the guards yelled, catching your shoulder as he pushed you forward, reminding you bitterly of Telik being led to slaughter. You kept Jay close, keeping your head down as you passed more guards, pace increasing. Just a few more yards and you would be with the others. Whatever the future had in store for you, at least you would still have each other.

“Hey, you!” A voice called, clearly directed your way, though you pretended not to hear. A cold sweat broke out across your skin as footsteps closed in, hand reaching out and stopping you in your tracks.

“Children don’t go in this area.” He growled, prying Jay from where he hid, ignoring his cries and your screams as he was pulled away. A guard stepped forward to hold you back, another coming to his aide as you fought to get to your brother, who was making it just as difficult for his own captor to drag him away. Even with the muscle gained from the mines you struggled against them, putting up your own desperate fight.

“Stop moving you little- fuck!” He yelped, pulling his arm away and out of Jay’s mouth, which had latched on to the only unarmored part of the hand holding him.

Immediately he turned and was running back towards you, tears streaming down his face and blue eyes wide with fear. In his panic to get back, his childish coordination caught up to him and his feet caught on one another, throwing him to the ground as he was left to scramble. All the while the guard he had bitten approached. 

“You little brat!” He snarled. His hand moved to his hip, producing a whip from its depths. The long weapon crackled to life, sparking with energy as it extended to full length.

Your own stomach dropped in fear as you watched. 

Jay, the one light in your life, the only person you had left, was in danger. You were his older sister. You were supposed to protect him, guide him into adulthood in place of your parents. Be there to kiss away every injury, wipe away the tears after every nightmare.

A new burst of energy flooded your system, giving you the strength needed to push past the guards, leaving them stumbling as you flew towards Jay.

The man brought his arm down, whip swinging in a wide arc aimed at the defenseless boy on the ground. 

It didn’t even have the chance to hit him. You slid the last few feet on the rough terrain, body covering his at the last second and jolting as the electric weapon met your clothed back, ripping through the material like a stone through water. A pained scream tore itself from your lips. Not even when you had gotten a burn from a small explosion in the mines had it hurt this much. In fact, you would take a dozen burns before this. This was just pure agony, the pain not even limited to a single area as the electricity coursed through every part of your body, invading every nerve.

The man was far from done though, and he repeated the action again and again, turning your skin into a bloody mess as Jay continued to cry underneath you, struggling in your protective grip. Still you held tightly, biting your lip to muffle your cries with every lash.

No one lifts a finger to help, not even looking in your direction in fear of the same treatment as they continue to shuffle along. You don’t even have it in your heart to blame them, knowing your reaction would be much the same if the situation was reversed.

Unbeknownst to you, your little altercation has caught the eye of the golden Zabrak, a small twinge in his heart at the deja-vu feeling he gets from the scene. From your age, he can only assume that the boy is your brother. You look too young for him to be your son.

He has flashbacks to his own brother, giving himself to the cursed Nightsisters in exchange for his life, only to be forced to kill him in a cruel show of power.

Before he realizes it, his hand has fallen to his lightsaber, already taking a step to where you are. He only gets a step before Maul calls to him, pulling him away to the ships and leaving him to look back over his shoulder at you crumpled form.

“Come. We must set up camp. The prisoners will be dealt with later.” Maul chuckles. “Those that survive anyways.”

And so he follows, leaving your fate to the Mandalorian who has yet to relent in his cruelty. But out of sight doesn’t mean out of mind, and the memory of your form curled on the ground, taking every lash with little more than a jolt and muffled cry, sticks in the front of his mind and prevents him from having a single moment of rest.

It's hours before he’s able to slip away. Between his brother and Death Watch, it’s nearly impossible for him to make his way to where the captives are being held. They’re all gathered in one of the far corners of the camp, held in place by the ropes around the wrist and looking miserable as they huddle for warmth against the lightly falling snow. He feels no guilt for what their eventual fate will be. They’re nothing to him, mere insects in his brothers plans. Animals to the slaughter. All for the greater good.

The fear he can feel radiating off them feeds a twisted sense of pride within him. The Sith side of him. They know who he is. They know he could easily kill them with no consequence should he choose. 

He’s not here for them though.

A dozen yards away, your body is still laying in the same spot as before, more lifeless than when he last saw you. This time there’s no Mandalorian enforcer above you. Instead, he’s replaced with the small boy from earlier. What remains of your shirt is peeled back from the skin and even Savage, who’s used to many grisly sights, grimaces at your wound. The skin that isn’t lacerated is red and swollen, and he now notices that the young boy has shed his own shirt, using ripped strips to clean the blood away and form a crude version of bandages. He’s busy fumbling over himself, fingers clumsy and stiff from the cold as he does his best to care for the wound with no medical supplies.

So focused on your wounds, he doesn’t even hear the large Zabrak approaching, not until it’s far too late. To his credit, and Savage’s amusement, the boy refuses to leave you, placing his body in front of yours. His bare chest is rapidly moving up and down with fear, thin body on full display. Not an ounce of muscle on him, Savage muses, moving closer to your body. If he doesn’t get you proper medical attention soon the wounds will undoubtedly become infected and kill you, if the blood loss hasn’t already damned your fate.

When he goes to pick up your limp body however, he’s stopped by your brother. Well, stopped is being rather generous. It’s more like he’s latched himself onto Savage’s waist, small fist beating at him with the strength one would expect of a child. He might not have even known he was hitting him if he wasn’t watching it happen.

It’s times like this that he’s most grateful for his cursed strength, easily detaching the boy from him and holding him by the back of his neck, tucking him under one arm as the other reaches for you. It's almost concerning how cold your body is against his own skin, and he’s more careful as he lifts you over his shoulder. His brother would surely find it laughable if he saw how gentle he was being with you.

Without hesitance, he turns back to the main camp, ignoring the looks the others cast his way as he carries your unconscious and broken body over his shoulder, your brother still fighting under his other.

Let them gossip. There’s none that will stand against him.

____________________________________

The first thing you’re aware of is warmth. Surrounding and enveloping your form, begging you to stay as it threatens to drag you back into the land of dreams. That in itself is enough to alarm you. The heating was always turned off at night to save energy, replaced in favor of thick blankets made from the local TekTek wool.

That’s your second red flag. TekTek wool is warm, yet coarse and scratchy. The fabric currently piled on top of and under you is significantly softer, having a slight musk to it.

Finally managing to drag your eyes open, the sight that greets you is not one you were expecting. 

Dark fabric makes up the majority of the tent you find yourself in. It’s clearly worn, yet does a surprising job of keeping the wind outside from entering, slight ripples waving across the fabric yet never entering. A fire sits in the very center, smoke curling up and through a hole in the ceiling. It’s glow provides the only source of light in the space, illuminating the few objects scattered around, including the cot you currently find yourself residing on. Buried under layers of blankets, your hands travel to the bandages wrapped around your chest, the only thing covering your upper body and providing little warmth in comparison to the blankets you were previously under.

How did you get here? Where was Jay? The last thing you remember was the invaders arriving, then nothing. So the question was, how had you gotten from there to here? Alone in an unfamiliar tent.

Your questions are soon answered, a shuffling from the front of the tent drawing your attention. From between the flaps emerges a large figure, his horns nearly catching the fabric as he enters.

You both freeze, eyes locking on one another, equally surprised. There’s a moment of pause, each of you trying to determine your next move. It’s only broken when he takes a step forward, cautiously, but still sending you into a panic. Ignoring the nearly debilitating pain coming from your back, you scramble to the edge of the cot, pressing your back against the fabric and you can feel it straining against your weight. Trying your best to look intimidating, you send a glare his way.

“Where’s my brother?”

He says nothing for a moment, and you almost repeat yourself, cut off as he begins approaching. He’s there before you know it, long legs easily eating the space as his arms reach for you, forcably turning you around despite your resistance. He lets out a grumble as he inspects your back, scoffing about how you’ve ‘reopened them’.

The next thing you know, his hands are worming their way under the wrappings, loosening them as he goes to remove them.

The panic you had felt before was nothing compared to now, knowing where this scenario was going all to well. The stories of what you had heard from other village girls filling your mind, darkening your thoughts as you could only imagine what this monster was about to do to you.

“No! Stop!” You sobbed, knowing full well that there was nothing you could actually do against his strength. The bandages become looser, only held up by your hand as you wildly swing out with the other. All the while you try to distance yourself from him. 

“Please!”

To your surprise, he pauses. His first sign of even showing he heard you since entering. His gaze never leaves you, and you can see the debate going on within his eyes. About what, your guess was as good as any. All that you cared was that he had stopped for the moment, allowing you to cover yourself with one of the many blankets in an attempt to preserve any decency you had left.

Growling, her turns and storms out the way he came, a wisp of freezing wind invading the tent as you're given a glance at the dark night sky outside before you’re once again left on your own. Not for long though, and you think he’s returned once again when the flaps open, only to reveal a young woman in similar armor that you had seen earlier. Not the person you trusted the most right now, but you still preferred her over the large Zabrak from earlier.

She approaches slowly, setting a medkit down on the bed as she smiles your way. “I’m here to change your bandages.” She extends a hand your way, which you only look at, neglecting to come out of your little corner. 

“Please. You’ve opened your wounds again. If you don’t come out now, I’ll just wait for you to pass out and change them then.” she sounds a bit exhausted, and it takes a few more minutes of coaxing before you allow her access to your back, keeping your back towards her as she slowly unwraps the bindings. She deposits them into the fire, leaving you to watch them burn to ash as she retrieves a small container from the medkit. 

Inside is a blue gel, surprisingly warm as it touches your skin and leaves a pleasant numbness. You can almost feel her gaze burning into your skin as she applies the gel, eyes skittering across old scars, fingers even tracing them when visible underneath the new wounds. Seeming to sense your unease, she rushes through the rest, quickly wrapping new bindings around your torso, apologizing with every small grunt of pain you let out. 

Far too quick for your liking she’s done, packing up her things as she prepares to head out. If she’s leaving, then that means there’s more of a chance that he’ll come back. In fact, you have no doubt that she’ll go and tell him once she’s out of here.

Snapping the case closed, she turns back to you and hesitates for a moment.

“I don’t know what you did to gain Savage’s attention, but believe me,” her green eyes lock onto yours, holding a sense of severity that chills you to the bone. 

“, he’s your best chance of surviving.”

With that you’re alone once again, left to your own thoughts and the crackling of the fire, which has gone down a significant amount since you first woke.

What did she mean by that? Gained his attention? And he was one of the ones who lead the attack on your home. Why would he be your saving grace? If anything, he would be the most likely to kill you.

Once again the flap opens, and you almost want to groan about the number of people going in and out, letting the heat out of the tent.

It’s the Zabarak. Savage, you remember the woman from before calling him. This time he has some additions. A cloak draped over one arm and a plate in hand. He moves slower than before, almost cautiously approaching you as he sets the items on the far end of the bed.

“Eat.” His voice is a deep baritone, rich yet monotone as he speaks, nodding towards the plate before moving towards the fire. Your eyes never leave his form as he tosses more wood onto the flame, moving them about without a fear of burning himself. Despite the fear still gripping your nerves, the food is tempting and only now do you realize how empty your stomach is, almost turning in on itself as it lets out a low rumble.

You grab the plate cautiously, picking at its contents as the man continues to poke at the fire. When you do finish, you find yourself wishing you had taken more time with it, no longer having the small distraction from your current situation. Despite the desire to throw on the warm looking cloak, you don’t. While he had directed you to eat, he had said nothing about the cloak. The last thing you wanted to do was make him angry, especially after he had shown how easily he could manhandle you earlier.

“You’re going to travel with me from now on.” He spoke, his back still towards you, yet it still carried loudly through the air, leaving no room for you to mistake his words. “If you have any objections, your fate will be the same as the rest of your village.”

You have no idea why he’s saying this, not when he could just direct you without any information. There’s only one thing on your mind though, present from the very beginning and still burning on your tongue.

“Where’s my brother.” You ask once again, praying to the maker you’ll get an answer this time. “What about him?”

His shoulders tense for a moment. The first emotion he’s shown besides anger.

“He will be allowed to come along given that he trains as a Mandalorian warrior. This is the best option for him.”

You let out a sigh of relief. While being forced to train with the ones who captured him wasn’t an ideal situation, you could only be thankful that he wasn’t fated for something more unfortunate. The only thing that worried you was his size. He was never much of a fighter, too kind to want to cause others pain. You would need to be there for him.

“I...I can still see him.”

“Yes.”

You bit your lip, trying to decide if you should ask another question. He already seemed to be wearing thin with his patience, but you had to know. You would never get a moment's rest until you knew.

“Why am I here.”

He doesn’t answer right away, throwing a few more logs onto the fire before turning to face you. His face was nothing but shadows, eyes standing out in startling contrast. His footsteps were slow and heavy as he made his way over to your form, unable to back away any further as you already find yourself in a corner. He grabs the cloak as he passes, the article almost ridiculously small in his hands.

As soon as he’s close enough, he lifts his arms and you flinch, expecting him to strike you out of annoyance and anger. It never comes though. The only feeling was that of heavy fabric settling on your shoulders, only there a moment before it’s clasped and you feel yourself being pulled forward. 

Savage’s hands are wound tightly into the fabric, forcing your face to nearly touch his. This close you can see every detail of the markings splashed across his skin, the black only making his amber eyes burn even brighter, nearly suffocating with the intensity with which they stare. Almost like molten gold themselves.

His breath fans across your skin, lips nearly brushing yours as his forehead grazes your own, making you whimper as his horns roughly scrap the skin.

“You’re mine now. You will never leave my side, there at my every beck and call no matter what I may need. If you even think about trying to leave or betray me,” he pushed further, forcing you to lean back onto the bed. His weight pushed down enough to keep you in place without being crushing, one hand releasing the fabric of the collar to travel up your face. It brushes the hair away, catching the tear you hadn’t even realized had escaped.

“I’ll force you to watch as I kill your brother in the most painful way imaginable.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he leans forward, baritone voice speaking lowly in your ear as his lips tickle the skin.

“You’ll wish, beg, that I had killed you as well instead of what will happen to you after.”

[givemeweasley]

Already Gone

George Weasley X Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: this is inspired by the Already Gone cover by Sleeping At Last so angst (it's been a hard month), but also happy endings so no worries.

Masterlist

-----

Sometimes love was hard. It was a lesson you had to learn the older you got- the deeper you loved. It’s not that you would take a moment of that love back, but it definitely didn’t make it easier when you had to make hard choices for the people you loved.

And you were head over heels in love with George Weasley.

You fell for him slowly. Over time your best friend became something more to you. And you to him. Until the two of you became a couple in fifth year. And for two years you were the happiest you’d ever been, even with the death seemingly always knocking. You were just filled with memories of George's soft half smiles reserved for private moments, exuberant laughs that filled any room he was in, elaborate pranks that somehow you always managed to escape, and a fullness of love you had never felt before.

And now that fullness felt heavy.

It began to feel like weight the moment you walked up to Fred and Georges room at the Burrow the summer before seventh year. You thought George had been there, but he wasn’t. Instead you found plans for a shop. Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. Their inventions were listed out, priced, packaged, plans were drawn up for the outlay. Everything was seemingly planned.

At first you thought little of it, George was your person. You’d be beside him no matter what he wanted to do.

Until seventh year started.

And Umbridge came with it.

And you saw George begin to pull away.

Not from you, but from Hogwarts. You could see in his eyes he was done with Umbridge. Especially after he saw the scars on your hands one day after detention with her.

So it was no surprise when you heard him and Fred talking about leaving. You were coming down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room late at night when you heard them talking. You leaned against the wall of the staircase, out of sight while you eavesdropped.

“It’s time.” Fred spoke loud enough for you to hear.

You heard George sigh. You could practically see him run his hands through his messy hair. “Fred-”

“I know you’re worried about her, but she’ll be okay. She’s stronger than you think.”

“I know she’s strong, I just- I’m worried anyway. I don’t- I can’t leave her, Freddie.”

Your heart clenched. The pain in his voice was so- so raw.

You heard what sounded like Fred putting his arm around his brother. “I know. But this is our dream, George. She’d understand. You know she would.”

A long silence followed Fred’s statement. Your heart pounded in your chest. Silent tears slipped down your cheeks.

And then at last, he spoke. “I know.”

“You have to tell her, Georgie.”

“I know.”

A pat sounded before a sigh followed it. “So next Thursday?”

“Yeah.”

You waited until you heard their footsteps go up the boys staircase before sliding down the wall. Your head fell onto your knees as sobs began to wrack through your body. Your arms crossed over your knees in an attempt to muffle your cries. The last thing you needed was for Fred and George to hear you, although you were sure they were already dead asleep.

A piece of your heart bled as recalled George’s words. He couldn’t leave you. You’d known the handsome red head since first year. You knew how deep his love ran. How loyal he was to those he cared about. Leaving you? It would hurt him.

And that was something you couldn’t allow.

You would go to the ends of the world for him. You would do anything if it meant he would be happy.

Even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness.

So as the tears stopped, you steeled yourself for what you had to do. Stood up. And went to bed with an already broken heart.

------

The feeling of dread had a new taste that morning. Every step felt too heavy to take. Every breath felt nearly impossible. But you swallowed it all as you walked towards the library table George and Fred were sitting at with Angelina and Lee.

George looked up, a bright smile on his face. The smile he reserved for just you. It almost crippled you.

But it was the quiet pain you saw in his eyes that solidified your resolve.

“Hey, love.” George reached out for you. You let him, unable to deny yourself his touch. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and began to pull you onto his lap, when you lifted your free hand to his chest stopping him. It then traveled up to tuck a piece of loose hair behind his ear.

“Hey, Georgie.” You swallowed. “Do you mind if I steal you away for a minute or two?”

Freds laugh rang out across the table as a balled up piece of paper flew across the table and smacked George in the face. “A minute or two?” Fred looked to Lee. “I always knew he was a quick shooter!”

Lee and Angelinas laugh soon joined in as George’s face reddened. Yet he stood up and wrapped an arm around you to lead you out of the library. But not before he called back. “At least I’ve never had any complaints!”

Madam Pince hushed him at the same time as Fred started to shout back, but by that time George had led you past the library doors and down the hall.

You allowed yourself to lean into George’s hold. To feel the warmth and smell the scent that was so completely him. The muscles in his arm that were hidden underneath his robes. The curl of his fingers on your hip.

You let him lead you to a secluded bench in one of the more quiet hallways of Hogwarts. He let you sit down first before sitting next to you.

“So what did you need?” He lifted his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing across your lip.

Utter pain flooded your body as you closed your eyes, unable to look at the person you loved most in the world.

“George-” You choked out. George’s hand fell. You opened your eyes to see his face. He looked like you had slapped him.

He shook his head. “No. Love, I know what you’re thinking. And no. Please-”

But you steeled yourself. Reminded yourself why you were doing this. You knew a part of George would be here with you, not focused on the shop. His dream. Him and his best friends dream that they had worked so hard to build.

What kind of girlfriend- what kind of friend would you be if you held him back from that?

That thought helped you.

“I- I think we should break up.” You looked into George’s warm brown eyes.

George’s hands grabbed yours. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Tell me. I’ll fix it. Just please don’t-”

It took every ounce of strength for you to continue to look at the man you loved and not cry- to not give in.

“I’m sorry, George.” You couldn’t help leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Your lips lingering for a second longer than they should’ve. “I love you.” You whispered before standing and walking away.

“Wait-” George’s hand grabbed your wrist. Tears had already begun pouring down your face unable to be held back anymore. So you knew better than to look backwards at him. He would be able to read you the moment he saw your tears. “Please, Y/N. I’ll do anything.” His hand was shaking around your wrist. His voice sounded broken.

It’s for his dream.

You sucked in a deep breath.

“Goodbye, George.”

You pulled your wrist from his grip and continued down the hall. Each step an effort as you heard his shout echo through the castle.

But he didn’t chase you.

Despite it being what you wanted, it hurt.

-----

The day George and Fred left felt like mercy. The days after the break up were some of the hardest you’d ever been through. It wasn’t that Fred or George were mean to you, in fact no one was.

It was the way George looked. And the way he looked at you whenever you failed at avoiding him.

His normally glowing skin was pale. He had a slump in his shoulders that had never been there before. The looks of utter longing and confusion he sent your way, broke a piece of you you didn’t even know you had.

Fred wasn’t better. He looked at you like he knew. Like he knew exactly what you were doing, and couldn’t tell whether to be grateful or upset.

But all that ended when they left.

Yet, all that began after they left was something new. On top of your hurt was Umbridge’s desire to make your life miserable. As the girlfriend- ex girlfriend of one half of her arch nemesis, she took all her anger out on you.

You took it.

The thought that rang loud and clear in your head as you carved I will be obedient into your hand was-

He’s living his dream.

He’s living his dream.

He’s living his dream.

And so you would bleed any amount. Feel any level of pain. Miss him more than you thought possible. Take his anger or blame. All if it meant he was happy.

-----

Somehow, despite working at Flourish and Blotts for six months, you hadn’t managed to work up the courage to visit Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes only a few doors down.

You passed it every morning on the way to work, and every night on the way back home.

Usually you’d avert your eyes. Sometimes you’d glance up, seeing the giant likeness of the twins lifting his hat. Very rare times, you stopped for only a second to glance in the windows. Every glimpse was something new. Sometimes there’d be a new product sitting in the windows. Once there was a laughing child, who’s face held nothing but pure joy.

But you’d never seen him.

Until one day, you decided to risk more than a glance.

You were walking home. Flourish and Blotts closed an hour before Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes did. As you began to pass the store, a strong desire you’d been suppressing for a year gripped you.

You desperately wanted to see what you sacrificed your heart for. You wanted to see what became of their dream.

With a deep breath, you turned and walked to the door of the shop. It glowed. Your hands pushed the door open and you walked into the most magnificent store you’d ever been in.

Color bloomed on every surface. Everything was labeled. You saw their earlier inventions, ones you had been a part of, sitting on a shelf off to the side. You took a few steps in and just let your feet guide you.

Your fingers grazed the Extendable Ears, the Nosebleed Nougats, the Love Potions, and newer inventions like the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. A smile lit up your face as you spun in the middle of the shop. Laughter was the music and joy seemed to radiate from every corner of the shop.

This was exactly what you hoped.

What you dreamed for them.

Then your eyes caught on a small display in the furthest corner of the shop. Your body carried you before you could think about it.

On the display were a collection of glass balls the size of a Bludger. They were all clear, with nothing inside. But what truly caught your eye were the glass balls hanging above the display, scattered like stars. Inside each of the hanging orbs were different scenes. You leaned towards one up to inspect it closer.

Inside danced two figures. One in a glittering silver gown and another in a brown tux with sparkling lights floating above them. It took a minute to realize it was you and George. You blinked back tears before turning to the next floating orb.

One figure was carrying another one running towards what appeared to be a lake-

You looked at the next one.

George kissing you under the moonlight after you admitted your feelings to each other in the Astronomy tower.

You and George sitting together in the Great Hall laughing about a stupid joke.

George running his fingers through your hair as you slept.

You stumbled back.

What were those memories doing here? You looked around to see the name and description of the product, your frantic need causing you to stumble back another step. But instead of falling, your back met a hard chest.

You froze.

You didn’t need to turn around to know exactly who it was.

“They’re Memory Ornaments. You can make copies of your favorite memories and hang them as decoration. They usually do better around the holidays.”

A sharp breath left your lips. It was the first time you’d heard his voice in almost a year. It was soft.

You wondered then if he knew who you were. If he ever became resentful of you after the breakup. You hoped not.

His arm came from behind you, reaching up to an ornament hanging a foot or so above your head.

“These are all my memories. But this one is my favorite.” He pulled it down and held it to your eyes.

Inside were two people sitting on a bench holding hands. One crying and the other trying not to. The last time you and him talked.

And this was his favorite?

You couldn’t help the question that bubbled out of your lips. “Why?”

You felt him lean down, his breath brushing your ear.

“Several reasons. First, it was the last time I talked to the only girl I’ve ever loved.” His free hand came up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. You should’ve known then. But you refused to believe it. “Second, she tells me how much she loves me-”

You whipped around tears in your eyes. “That’s not at all what she said. She broke up with you.”

You thought you were prepared to see the face of the man you were still head over heels in love with. But you weren’t.

He glowed with sheer and pure happiness. His hair was shorter. He was definitely taller. The bright suit fit him so well, you almost reached up to feel his biceps under the sleeves. You missed that cheeky curved smile that lit up for you. The kindness in those beautiful brown eyes, that looked down at you in that moment like he was dreaming.

He must’ve released the orb, because his hands settled on your cheeks. “I think we remember things differently, love.”

The tears did fall then as you tried to break his grip. But it was as firm as it was gentle. You lifted your hands to push against his chest. “No, George. I broke up with you-”

“So I could have this.” His eyes were earnest. You opened your mouth to lie but he cut you off again. “Fred told me after a few months. To be completely honest, after I’d gotten over the initial hurt, I’d guessed as much. It seemed exactly the kind of dumb self sacrifiice you’d do.” His thumb reached up to brush a few tears.

“I’m sorry, George.” You closed your eyes, unable to look at his kind and loving face. “I heard you that night. You and Fred were talking about leaving. You said you couldn’t leave me.” You opened your eyes. He had to know you didn’t want to do it. “But this is your dream. I couldn’t- I can’t keep you from that.”

George huffed a laugh before leaning down until his face was level with yours and inches away. It was an effort to maintain eye contact. But you knew it would take more effort to drag your eyes from his.

“Do you know what I’ve been dreaming of since the day we left Hogwarts?”

You shook your head as much as George’s grip allowed.

A gentle smile overtook his face before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

You felt every thought and feeling pour into you from him. Everything he didn’t know how to say and yet knew exactly how to translate it through his kiss. Your hands, still pressed against his chest, wound around his neck pulling him impossibly closer. And in return, you sent your own love through the kiss. Hoping it could tell him what you struggled to.

That you loved him more than words could ever begin to describe.

Until he pulled back gently, his forehead resting on yours.

“You, love.”

You leaned back a fraction, looking at his still closed eyes.

His lashes fluttered as his eyes opened, staring straight at you.

“I dreamed of you.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. A smile you hadn’t smiled in a year. Your hand reaching up and tangling in his hair as you pulled him back to you. Your lips claiming each other again, promising without words to never let go again.

Let me know if you want to join my taglist! @huffledor-able541​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Hello, sweetheart! I have a prompt for you ❤️ Geralt has chronic pains since the mutations. Sometimes he can't get up, because everything hurts so much. Sometimes he does not eat for days (weeks...), because he cannot go out hunting. As the years have passed, he has managed to mask the pain on his face. Nobody needs to know. His brothers have already looked for a cure, but the potions only ease the pain for a few hours. +

+ When Jaskier started following the witcher on the path, whenever the pain became unbearable, Geralt told him that he had picked up a contract. A contract that would perhaps take days. And then he went into the forest as far away as possible, so that no one would be able to hear his cries of pain.+

+Jaskier knew he was lying. But he just didn't know what he was lying about. Until one day, tired of this situation (he's his best friend, for God's sake!), Jaskier decides to go after Geralt and find out what's going on. You can change anything you want ❤️

BAAAAAAABBBBEEEE 

listen I lived the chronic pain life for a while and if someone would have just told me to shut the fuck up and confront the problem things would have been WAY easier lmao 

Warnings: Lots of swearing. ye ole self-depreciation. chronic pain.

__________

His back had ached for the last six decades; this sort of twisting torment was nothing new. His second round of trials had induced horrible spasms and, according to Vessimir, Geralt had broken the restraints usually used for young witchers and damn near writhed off the table before the sorcerers had restrained him. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in sixty years because of it.

Eskel and Lambert had sourced out different potions and spells over the years, sometimes putting him under Axi just so he can sleep despite his body, but with the extra mutations came heightened adaptability. If he took any potion too frequently it stopped working, used any spell too often it would barely touch him. While this made his job much easier, and much safer, he was in a never-ending nightmare of shooting and radiating stabbing pain emanating from various points in his spine. It was worse than any stab wound or monster bite he’d ever endured on the bad days, a dull throb on the good days. 

Traveling with Jaskier was surprisingly helpful in this aspect. He made it easier to get rooms with real beds and didn’t care that Geralt’s limbs draped over him in the only comfortable sleeping position he could find most nights. He insisted on getting Geralt hot baths he would never be offered on his own and once blackmailed someone into letting Geralt into a sauna. Of course, Geralt had never told him, there was no point, but having an advocate when he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, defend himself was nice. 

However, as with most things in Geralt’s life, things eventually went to shit. A fall off a two-story roof chasing a vampire the week before had depleted the few potions Eskel had scrounged up for him last they spoke and, bed or no bed, there was no way Geralt could stay with the bard and pretend he was fine. The longer he tried the more explosive his behavior, and well that wasn’t fair was it?

He had gotten up early, before the pain had time to settle in the pit of his stomach and make him nauseous, to head off to the foothills. Giving Jaskier a lie about a contract a town over and meeting up later, he headed to collect Roach and disappear. 

Mounting was a miserable affair, even with a hay bail to help him up. His leg nearly gave out from what felt like one of Yennefer’s electric shocks running the length of the limb before he had the bulk of his weight over the saddle. But once he was on, he was relatively fine. Not trotting fine, but comfortable enough to go at a steady pace out of town without groaning or screwing up his face in agony. It wouldn’t do to scare the townsfolk if he wanted to come back and collect his bard. 

He let Roach meander as far as she wanted off the road running parallel to a stream, letting her choose where they’d be camping for the night once they were far enough from civilization. 

He hated doing this, letting his guard down and in the wilderness no less, but he was holding himself upright on the pommel by the time Roach found a sandy bank next to the stream. He practically fell out of the saddle, unbuckling the girth and giving its bulk just enough of a tug to let it fall off the mare’s back. Even the little effort put into untacking was agony, but he needed his bedroll off the saddle and Roach needed a break. He collected the wood he would need for a fire before he let himself rest, knowing that as soon as he stopped moving the muscles would tighten and cramp up, making it impossible to move until morning. 

He was peeling his shirt off ever so gingerly when he heard a twig snap. Dropping the garment back over his shoulders he gingerly turned to peer into the woods in the sound’s direction. If something or someone came upon him now he was at their mercy unless he could muster enough energy for a sign. 

“A contract, huh?” Jaskier stepped out of the treeline with his arms crossed and a surprisingly parental look of disappointment on his face.

Geralt relaxed a little, plastering the mask of calm on his face as he got back to tugging his shirt over his head, “You followed me?”

Jaskier deflated, dropping his bag and lute next to Roach’s tack as he moved to help Geralt out of his clothes, “I knew you were hiding something from me, but this? Geralt? How long have you been injured?”

The witcher laughed, wincing at the dull ache through his entire torso from the previous effort of keeping himself in the saddle, “Half a century? Give or take.”

“What?” Jaskier sounded offended, why was he offended?

Geralt just grunted, clenching his jaw to keep from yelling as he stood and waded into the stream of snowmelt. All the air left his lungs when he lowered himself into the freezing water, but as it lapped over his back and sometimes even his shoulders he felt a small bit of relief. Being able to lean back a bit and be supported by the current was almost intoxicating after all his muscles had nearly turned to stone over the course of the week.

Jaskier was now standing at the bank with his arms crossed and a look of fury on his face, “I’m your best fucking friend- don’t look at me like that we’re using the ��f’ word today- and you tried to hide a debilitating long-term injury? Geralt what the fuck?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.” Geralt huffed, doing his best not to get angry. He hurt and he was vulnerable and Jaskier was using the ‘f’ word and getting his hopes up.

“Oh shove it up your arse. You make everything else my problem, why not this?” Jaskier was on the verge of yelling and Geralt still couldn’t figure out why. 

Geralt stared forward in silence, calmly noting his hands shaking from the cold, or maybe it was the pain, he didn’t really know. 

Jaskier swore and turned to rummage through their things, arranging and rearranging things as he waited for Geralt to get out. 

However, Geralt didn’t want to get out. He wanted to be left alone to be miserable in peace. He wanted to have one fucking day where he didn’t have shooting pain running through most of his body. Long ago he’d given up hope of a day free of pain, now he just wished for an aching sensation rather than this bullshit. He also found he was liking the water. It wasn't as cold as it first was and his breath was coming easier. 

Jaskier rolled up his trousers and waded out to the middle of the stream where he sat, “C’mon Geralt, you can’t stay here all night. You’ll die.”

Geralt frowned up at him, “I like it in here. Hurts less.”

“Dumb Fuck, you’re turning blue. Out. Now.” Jaskier held a hand out and Geralt found raising his arm was nearly impossible. He got it about halfway to the bard’s palm before he stalled out, shaking and staring at his hand in horror. 

“I- Jask I can’t-”

Jaskier sighed, “You’re damn near hypothermic, here.” He reached down and hauled the witcher out of the stream, ignoring his grunts of pain as he walked him back to the fire he’d started. Jaskier went about stripping his soaked pants off, toweling him off with his old shirt, and redressing him all while glaring at him. Jaskier made him sip some boiled water before he bundled the both of them in one bedroll, wrapping himself around the still shivering witcher as completely as possible.

“Th-thank you.” Geralt gasped as Jaskier angrily shoved his arm beneath Geralt’s lower back, the warmth alone was lovely but something about the way his spine laid over the extra bulk was even better.

“You’re welcome.” Jaskier growled, head tucked into Geralt’s chest, “I’m still furious with you. It’s been over a decade and you didn’t think to tell me?” 

Geralt swallowed back tears as he felt some of the tension ease in his back, “No one else really cares…”

Jaskier tilted his chin up to look at the witcher like he was sprouting a horn out of his forehead, “The fuck do you think I’m doing here? You think I enjoy being run out of towns and almost dying every other day? Shit, Geralt, you’re smart but sometimes you’re fucking thick.”

If it wouldn’t have hurt Geralt would have playfully smacked his shoulder, but moving any part of his body was a risk at the moment, “Thought you liked the adventure.”

“No, dumbass. I care about you. A lot.” Jaskier settled his head back down over Geralt’s chest, “In the morning I’m taking you to a healer. Or a sorcerer or mage or anyone who will give us answers.”

“Julek…”

“Shut the fuck up and sleep. Cute nicknames won’t get you out of this one. I’m still furious.”

[bubbleteaimagines]

Hello!! Can you write something with thor please where he and reader get in a big fight and he storms out but then he misses her and goes back to her and makes up in a cute way🥺🥺♥️♥️ Ineedangstandfluff 💗🥺

come back to me

thor oneshot

thor x reader

angst, fluff

i actually love this sm thor makes my heart go 🥰💞💞

what had started out as a simple disagreement between you and thor had now become a screaming match. you didn’t even know what you were arguing about anymore, if you were being honest. but the tension between you two had become so thick that neither of you were willing to back down.

you were both stubborn in that way, a trait you admired and hated in each other.

“i’m just saying,” you threw your hands up, exasperated as your throat burned from screaming, “a relationship goes two ways. i make time for you, and you have to make time for me, too, thor.”

“and you believe i don’t?” his voice was low, threatening as he stared at you in disbelief. “you believe that i don’t give my best efforts to be here when i can, y/n?”

“when you can,” you mocked him sarcastically, “you mean when you’re not off trying to save the world or being a king on an entirely different planet?”

“my people mean the world to me, y/n,” thor snapped, “they have lost odin and now they need me. i thought that you of all people would understand that.”

thor was hurt that you didn’t understand that the lives of the asgardians were important to his wellbeing, too. but that was the thing — you did understand. he had said it best, you more than anyone understood that it was thor’s duty to be with them. it was his destiny to be their king.

but, as his wife, he could at least pretend to have a place for you in his life, too. he could at least pretend he knew that he was hurting you by leaving for months at a time.

time on earth and time on asgard were different. to thor, he was only gone for five weeks but for you, it was five months. five months of pure torture, five months of lonely nights spent crying over the absence of your husband. five months of staring at your wedding ring, wondering if it was even worth it to be with him anymore.

“don’t you dare,” you pointed an accusing finger at him. “you know that i understand. you know that i have always been aware that your people come first. so don’t sit there and pretend i’m crying to you over nothing, thor. because this — this has been happening for years! for years i’ve waited for you to tend to your people! for years i’ve been stuck here in absolute hell, wondering if i’ll even get to see you again! i’m not an asgardian, thor. i’m human! and every time you leave, every time you abandon me for months on end, my life span shrinks. the time i get to spend with you is so little anyways, but now — i feel like i’m gonna end up spending more years without you than with and i just—”

you couldn’t stop yourself from sobbing as you finished your little rant, the years of bottled up emotions spilling out.

thor looked at you in a mixture of shock, anger, and hurt. “i thought you knew that this was what you were signing up for, y/n,” he said.

“not like this,” you sobbed as you fiddled with the golden ring on your finger. “not anymore. thor i— i-can’t take this anymore. you being gone so much, i just—”

“no!” thor shook his head as you began to remove the expensive band, disbelief overtaking his features. “y/n, don’t you dare—”

“i’m sorry,” you broke down as you placed the object, a symbol of your now broken love, in his fists. “i just can’t. i can’t be married to a ghost anymore. i’m sorry.”

the hurt on his features was beyond comprehensible. thor looked like he was dying right in front of you, face twisted into agonizing pain.

“please,” he took a step forward but you stepped back. “please, don’t do this y/n.”

“i’m sorry,” you were like a broken record, repeating yourself over and over again. “but i think you should leave.”

you and thor both stared at each other for a moment, the pain behind both of your eyes enough to torture the entire earth.

he didn’t want to go. you didn’t want him to go.

but it was for the best.

“if i do this,” thor gripped the metal band tightly in his fists, “i’m not coming back.”

it was a threat. one last attempt to hear you make him stay.

and god, did it break your heart. you couldn’t even meet his eyes. you knew you’d break, and so you stayed silent while you stared at the wooden floor.

thor stormed away without another word.

the party around you was in full swing.

another shindig thrown by the one and only tony stark, celebrating some holiday that you hadn’t bothered to remember because you had been too busy mourning the love of your life.

nothing had been the same ever since he left. it felt like there was a hole in your heart now, large enough to leave you with physical pain.

his absence hurt you night and day, it haunted you in your dreams. before, it had at least been bearable because you could at least count the days until he was coming back.

but now...

your heart squeezed painfully as you remembered his last words.

he wasn’t coming back.

suddenly, the red cocktail that you were holding became blurry as tears welled up in your eyes.

“what’s up, buttercup? why are you crying in your wine?” the voice of tony stark made you quickly look up.

you nearly rolled your eyes as he swaggered over and plopped next to you. there was a grin on his face and you didn’t like it. not because you were annoyed at him, specifically, but because it hurt seeing other people happy now that you were miserable.

“not now, tony,” you mumbled, turning away from your ex-husbands colleague. you chose to stare out of the expansive windows instead and tony raised an eyebrow.

“what’s up?” he suddenly became more serious as your sniffles could be heard over the loud music. “did something happen? are you hurt?”

“no, no, i just—” you dabbed at your eyes in embarrassment as you began to cry right at his party. you couldn’t believe it! you were supposed to be celebrating, not sobbing into a glass of expensive wine.

“hey, hey,” tony frowned as a sob escaped your lips and quickly wrapped his arms around you. “easy, easy,”

“tony,” you let all of your sorrow loose on his ten thousand dollar suit, his jacket becoming wet with your tears as you cried. “i can’t do it. i can’t do it anymore! i thought i could just ignore the fact that he’s gone but—”

“this is about thor?” tony asked, frowning while you nodded. “wow i didn’t know you guys broke up.”

“it was my fault,” you admitted, regret seeping into your veins. “i couldn’t cope with him being gone anymore. i...i told him to leave. even gave him back the ring. but now...i regret everything.”

“oh honey,” tony cooed while you wiped your eyes with his handkerchief. “i’m sure wherever he is, he misses you too.”

“that’s the thing,” you hiccuped, shaking your head. “i don’t know where he is. he hasn’t been on earth for months. i can...i can feel it.”

“have you tried contacting him?” tony asked.

“you and i both know how hard it is to get in contact with him,” you said.

“well have you tried yelling at the sky and screaming out his name?” he asked.

you chuckled, “i don’t think that’d work.”

“and what about praying? isn’t he like god or something?”

“tony.”

“alright, alright,” the older man held up his hands in surrender. “i just wanted to see that smile of yours return. can’t have people talking about how my parties are so depressing people cry into their wine glasses.”

“only the ones that have lost their intergalactic husbands,” you sighed.

“if there was some type of technology that allowed us to communicate...” tony sighed. “you know i’d do everything i can. but with stuff like this, i just don’t know, kiddo.”

“i know,” you gave him a small yet appreciative smile. “i appreciate the thought, anyways. and you coming over here to check on me. it was sweet.”

“i’m nothing if not a people pleaser,” tony winked.

you chuckled. “why don’t you get back to the party,” you suggested, knowing that plenty of people were here for him. “i’m sure there’s just hundreds of broads ready to sweep you away.”

“you gonna be okay?” tony looked like he wanted to take your suggestion, but he was hesitating.

you gave him a firm nod. “go. the show must go on!” you waved your arms dramatically and tony chuckled.

and then, with one last farewell, you were alone again with nothing else to accompany you except the night sky, exposed by the expansive windows that surrounded you.

some air, you decided, would do you some good.

after all, you were beginning to grow tired of the stuffy atmosphere of the party so you came out here, to the field in front of the avengers compound, to get some fresh air.

you inhaled deeply as the bitter wind whipped at your face. in hindsight, you really should have brought a jacket. but you figured it was too late to go back now so you stayed, admiring the way the stars glimmered in the sky.

absentmindedly, you let your eyes flutter over to your favorite one.

“three stars north,” you heard thor’s voice in your head, “and one star to the right.”

it was where you could always find the ever watchful eyes of heimdall gazing over the earth, he had told you. it was where you could always find him.

another sob threatened to escape your lips but you quickly pushed it down.

maybe tony was right, you began to wonder, your eyes gazing at the star hopefully, maybe if i just call out to him...

it was a silly idea, you knew it. but you also knew that you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you didn’t at least try. you would never be able to rest if you left on bad terms with your husband forever.

and so, hesitantly parting your lips, you kept your eyes on the stars as you quietly called out,

“thor?”

your voice was nothing above a whisper but a whisper was all you needed, he had told you.

one word, and he would be there.

you were counting on that.

you bit your lip as you waited, slowly rocking on the balls of your feet.

you felt silly as you looked at the star, expecting it to speak back to you.

actually, you didn’t know what to expect. you had never done it before, as many times as you were tempted to.

and honestly, you weren’t even sure it would work this time.

would thor even want to come back and see you?

a horrible feeling began to form in your stomach.

what if this was a mistake? what if thor could hear you, but he didn’t want to see you?

after all, you had broken his heart. badly.

you found yourself letting out a whimper at the thought.

“please...” your eyes glistened with heartbroken tears, “come back to me, baby.”

you waited again.

and waited, and waited, and waited.

and finally, after a few second passed, you were ready to give up.

your shoulders sagged, and you glared at the star as a huff of frustration left your lips.

“dammit,” you cursed and then prepared to turn around, heading back into the tower before you legs collapsed and left you stranded outside.

but then, just as you began to turn your back, you were suddenly blinded by a bright and multicolored light.

you knew that light. in fact, you had spent years hoping you would see it, for it meant that the one person you wanted in the entire universe had returned to you.

“thor?”

your heart swelled as the light faded and sure enough, the god was standing there. he had his hammer clutched tightly in his hands and a wide smile on his face as he rushed over to you.

“you remembered,” he said breathlessly, a laugh escaping his throat.

“oh thor!”

you couldn’t help yourself as you launched yourself into his arms, meeting him halfway.

you didn’t care that you had a dress on — you wrapped your legs around him and clutched him tightly, sobbing as you buried your head in his neck.

“you came back,” you sobbed, utter relief flooding your veins.

“did you ever doubt that i would?” thor asked, his own voice thick with emotion.

“i— when you left that night, i thought that you were serious. i thought that you were never coming back to me, that i would never see you again.”

“i could never stay away from you, my love,” thor confessed, pressing his forehead against yours. “even if it was your dying wish, i don’t have the strength to be away from you.”

“and i don’t ever want you to,” you told him, “i’m sorry.”

“no, i’m sorry,” thor said quickly, shaking his head. “during our time apart, i realized how selfish and ignorant i have been to ignore your needs over my own. you are right, i want to cherish the time we have. i want you always and forever, just like we promised.”

“so you’ll stay?” you asked hopefully, a smile on your face.

“no,” your heart sunk, “you shall come with me to asgard. there, we will have all the time in world to spend our lives together. you’ll rule beside me, as my queen, until the universe decides otherwise.”

“you mean it?” you asked, gripping him tightly as tears glistened in your eyes.

thor nodded. “i wouldn’t have it any other way,” he promised, before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

[qyllenhaal]

God’s Face in the Fire || Part 1

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.

Word Count: 10.3k

Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mention of assault, murder, non-graphic death scenes, sexual themes, oral (m receiving), smut, brief mentions of possible infidelity, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only

A/N: Sorry for the bad summary, I’ve never been good at those! This first chapter doesn’t include an awful lot of Lee but the next part will be very Lee heavy! There will only be two other parts for this mini-series, maybe another or so if I extend my ideas.

Enjoy!

The baby she held on her hip just would not stop crying. Tears stained her own eyes as she felt at her ropes end looking at her baby's red face. Nothing she had done to make her baby feel better was working. When Y/n stared at her small face, the one that looked so much like her father's, she searched for a clue on what could be the problem. All she got back was a look of anguish. She wondered if her daughter's eyes mirrored her own emotion.

"What's wrong baby? What's wrong?" She asked as if she was genuinely going to get an answer from her. Her soft voice didn't assuage the baby's cries. What baby doesn't love the sound of their own mother's voice?

Y/n tried stroking her little girls back to calm her, tried feeding her, burping her, changing her, and putting her down to sleep but all of those things failed miserably. Her daughter continued to scream her little lungs out. The tears were beginning to dry up, but she still wailed. Y/n worried if something was wrong and if they needed to go to the hospital. Her husband wasn't home and she didn't want to cause anymore trouble for him, or herself.

"Are you hot? Wanna step outside?"

She did her best to open the backdoor without dropping her daughter. The rush of cool air as she stepped onto the back porch did more to help her than it did her daughter. The porch light was nearly as loud as the cries; it was one of the first noises she had heard in hours that was something other than her daughter. She got lost in the noise as she peered into the darkness of their backyard that stared back at her. She had been afraid of the dark when she was younger, always needing a night light until she reached her teen years. It was safe here in Brewer Heights, but something about the vast darkness gave her a creeping feeling. It felt endless.

The night air was doing nothing to help her anymore, and she worried that her neighbors would hear the baby cries and think something was terribly wrong.

"Let's go inside."

The songs she often sang to her daughter that her own mother sung to her when she was younger normally made her giggle and smile. Tonight, however, it was just another thing to add to the list of things that failed to calm her down.

Around midnight she finally heard the front door opening and the heavy footsteps of her husband trudging into their home. A groan followed when he heard the sounds of his daughter crying pierce the air.

"Lee," Y/n exasperated. She came out of nowhere, blindsiding him and begging, "please take her."

Lee didn't even get a second to take his jacket off, nor was he going to be able to relax like he had planned to after his long day. This situation paled in comparison to what he had to deal with at the station today. A domestic dispute, a robbery, a bar fight that ended in a stabbing, and hefty loads of paperwork that came along with it.

"She just won't stop crying Lee."

He said nothing to Y/n as he eyed her. Y/n understood what the look he gave her meant, but she was too concerned with making the crying stop. Lee held his arms open to take the girl into his arms.

"What's wrong darlin'?" He cooed at her. He held her close, snuggling her into him and his warmth

Lee had to temper his annoyance. He didn't want to come home to a screaming baby and a helpless wife, but he was weakened by the desperation radiating off of Y/n.

"What's wrong little girl? You like givin' your mama hell?"

Y/n sighed as the screams began to die down. The sinking feeling that she was an awful mother for not being able to get her baby to calm down was present. The worst thought to cross her mind was that Lee also thought the same. She didn't want to be the wife who couldn't raise her own child and was too dependent on her husband. Lee was admittedly more present in child rearing than her own father. However, she had only started becoming so fussy in the last few months when her father decided to run for Mayor and spent more time at work than at home with his family.

When their girl was born, Lee spent an eternity staring at her face; her features were so similar to his at a young age, but with her mother's lips. Hours after her existence in this word, Lee promised his wife would be home more, maybe he'd even hire a few new officers to handle the countless petty crimes that end up on his desk. Y/n believed his promise, but it changed when he out of nowhere declared that he was going to run for mayor.

"You enjoy being the sheriff's wife. I'm certain you'd love being the mayor's wife even more. And now that we got a baby, my chances are even better."

All of her years of being Lee's wife and she never heard him express any interest in being mayor. Sure he got off on power of any type, but he never uttered the words "mayor" unless he was talking about some trouble the mayor's son ran into. But Lee did always make it clear that his career and maintaining his position was a top priority for him. Y/n often missed the man who did his best to court her and was successful after a few failed attempts. He changed a bit when they started trying for a child, but Y/n could always see it in his face that his old habits will die with him.

"She misses her father."

Lee didn't turn around to acknowledge her. He just rocked his daughter back and forth, ignoring Y/n until she began to move out of the living room.

"Be ready when I get up there," Lee called to her.

Y/n wondered how harsh he would be, or if he would be at all? When he was this on edge he liked to keep Y/n in line; he couldn't go to a stressful work environment and come home to the same. He was always gentle with their daughter and that's all that mattered. Y/n could endure his brutality, but her daughter did not deserve it when she just didn't understand much. She would be too young to remember anything but Y/n would never forget.

She washed up in the bathroom, wiping away the sweat and tears that had clung to her face throughout the day. Her appearance in the mirror looked foreign to her. Her body had changed since giving birth, something that was expected, but she looked more rugged due to stress. Lee didn't realize that whatever he felt, Y/n felt it even harder. When he ices her out, she tries to understand but the feelings of inadequacy had piled up inside of her.

Lee put their daughter to bed without much trouble. She looked so peaceful, a stark difference from the screaming she was doing when he stepped into their home. He wondered how such a sweet little thing could cause so much hell. She was completely innocent yet she made her mama cry and nearly tear her hair out. Lee felt bad for his wife having to spend days alone without help, but there was nothing he could do about it, so he didn't feel that bad.

He was still in his jacket and hat when he finally came into their bedroom. He was well-intentioned on taking a longer shower tonight but he felt all worked up. His body felt tense, but seeing his wife sitting obediently on the bed made him loosen up.

"Pretty, little nightgown," Lee whispered to himself. Y/n's face burned at his compliment. She'd never get used to him being sweet on her.

Y/n held her breath, unsure of which side of Lee she was going to get tonight. She picked out the cream nightie that reached mid-thigh. She knows just how much Lee loves her legs, he has fawned over them since they were dating, and she hoped that the sight of them would make him go easy on her. Her nipples poked through her nightgown; she was going to be leaking in the morning but her only concern was giving Lee something that would make him soften up.

She melted into the palm that was placed on her cheek. He looked down at her, his ego still stronger than ever. He was a powerful man with a strong possibility to grasp even more power, and a pretty fucking wife. He's lucky that she gave him the time of day when she had the option to run off to Cincinnati with a pretty boy. Lee was older than her other suitors, but that's what made him enticing to her then 20 year-old self.

"I overheard Phil talking about the Sheriff's wife today," Lee began to stroke her cheek as she purred up at him, "was wonderin' why a stunner like her was with a fat bastard."

"Don't call yourself that," she cut him off. He had gained a significant amount of weight since he began finding solace in sweets. She feels bad because it began when she was three months pregnant and had him bring her back something sweet everyday. Her cravings turned into his, but the difference was that hers went away after giving birth but Lee's never did. Besides, Y/n found it endearing. Maybe it's just because she's wildly in love with her husband, but she couldn't deny how much she loved to feel the weight of his belly on her back when he took her from behind and pressed her face against the bed.

"You're so sensitive, Y/n. You think I give a damn about what a man who can't keep a girlfriend for more than two months has to say about me? He was right about one thing though," Lee began to unzip his work pants, "I do have a pretty wife with a pretty mouth too."

Y/n's face burned and her eyes moved away from his. Years of marriage, a baby later, and she was still bashful when he made such sexually charged comments.

Lee pulled himself out of his pants. He was hard, the tip dripping with pre-cum. From the look of it, he had probably been hard since the late hours of his work shift. Y/n hoped that he thought of her, she always did, but she knew that station was littered with smut magazines; Lee didn't see too fond of them though.

Y/n wrapped her hand around him and gave him a light squeeze just to feel how hard he was. He grunted and more pre-cum seeped from his tip. He was going to make a mess of her gown and exposed thighs if she didn't get him in her mouth.

"Good girl...always so good for me," he sighed in content.

He placed his hand on the back of her head and she welcomed him deeper into her mouth. Moments like this and all of his stress goes away. There is no county to oversee, no mayoral election, and no whispers; just his wife's wet mouth and something else that's wet between her legs. He felt at home inside of her. She sucked on him harder and his hips stuttered. Y/n did her very best to please him, to make him proud. His sweet little wife looked so wicked with his cock in her mouth.

"You keep that up and I'm going to fall over," he said through his pants.

Y/n looked up at him with innocent eyes. She was far from that when they were alone in their marriage bed. Y/n was anything Lee needed her to be, even without asking.

Lee grabbed ahold of her head and started to thrust into Y/n's mouth. She kept herself still, letting him take control of her. Her tongue applied pressure to the bottom of his shaft. His hips bucked as he lightly fucked her face until he was cumming into her mouth. She gagged when the liquid first splashed against the back of her throat, but she quelled herself and swallowed him completely, just how he likes.

"Let me see," she stuck her tongue out to show him that his seed was no longer in her mouth and he smirked, "good girl." He patted the top of her head and zipped himself back up.

"I'll be in bed soon, but don't wait up for me."

He could see how her body was begging for rest just in the way she lazily moved and the tiredness in her eyes. She wakes up before him every morning to make him breakfast, thus making her days longer than his. She didn't get up to much like he did, but long hours of nothing had probably dulled her. It was even worse when you add a screaming baby to the situation.

Y/n wanted to wait for Lee to come back to bed despite him advising against it. However, as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out. There were no sad cries from her daughter and no worrying about where Lee.

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

The sound of sizzling bacon in the cast iron skillet and percolator going in off was louder than Lee’s footsteps coming down the stairs in his heavy boots and jacket. He paused in the doorway, his daughter the only one to notice his presence in the room. A smile formed on his face as she squealed in delight and reached her arms out for him. Y/n looked over her shoulder to see her looking at Lee. She’s surprised that he came down for breakfast later than usual, but she was happy to see that he seemed to be in good spirits.

"You're going to be uncomfortable eating breakfast in that."

"I might not be able to stay for breakfast,” he tutted while smoothing the downy hairs on his daughter’s head.

Y/n furrowed her brow, but didn't protest. She continued with breakfast anyway. She felt Lee’s presence next to her as he pulled a teething ring out of the freezer. There were two little teeth coming in that contributed to last night's meltdown. She was much happier this morning after a good sleep; she was so oblivious to the world and everything happening around her.

The phone rang disrupting their regular morning routine. It was 7 am, too early for anyone to be calling. Lee picked it up anyway; his face first confused then sullen. Y/n couldn't help but try to eavesdrop when Lee turned away from the kitchen and walked away as far as the cord would allow him. Surely whatever he was talking about on the phone, he would tell Y/n. He always complained about whoever he had talked to on the phone. But, he had become more secretive since he entered the mayor’s race. He didn’t want her to worry, or worse, go around blabbing to one of her girlfriend’s or her parents about something Lee told her in confidence. Besides most of it was information that he didn’t think would interest her.

"Alright...I'll talk to you soon...take care."

Y/n busied herself with cooking again to cover up her nosiness. Lee stepped back in the room spilling the moment he put the phone back on the hook.

"People in town are talking."

"About what?"

"About me."

There was something about the way he talked to her that made Y/n believe he wasn’t telling the complete truth, or that the talking town was something much worse. 

Y/n was not fully aware of Lee’s reputation when she had met him. She knew of him, and also wondered why a man like him was talking to her when she was fit for being a housewife at the time. Over time she learned that Lee didn't have the cleanest reputation. Little bits and pieces would be revealed to her, but by the time she heard the most damning things about him the two were already married; and the information came from Lee himself. While Y/n didn’t want to concern herself with what others thought about Lee, she absolutely did. His position depended on what people thought about him. Y/n believed that their marriage and the birth of their daughter made people see Lee in a different light. Y/n was a very nice, bright girl from a good family. She turned Lee into a family man and a man who doted on his baby girl and treated his wife sweeter than people expected from him. Whispers about him had gotten quieter when her belly became visible under her dresses. No one looked at Lee with contempt or worry anymore, they gazes softened when they saw him walking with his waddling wife.

Shortly after Lee became her boyfriend, Y/n began to hear about some of the rumors that followed Lee throughout the years. She had been told he was corrupt, frequented a local brothel, and turned a blind eye as long as he got something out of it. She was so naive to believe that people were just jealous of her. There were some women who wanted the sheriff from themselves. A year or two into her marriage, Lee began to confide in her about some things. It would only happen when he was drunk. He'd say a thing and Y/n would ask him to elaborate and he would. Covering up murders, drug deals, and allowing the brothel to stay open as long as he "got a sample" was all true. No one else in the town knew the extent of his troubling choices while on the job. Y/n didn't know what to say. He had done bad things, but he was her husband, she took an oath.

Y/n often imagined what would happen if she had told someone about his confessions. He was already the sheriff when they got married, and who would cross the sheriff? She believed that if she ever said anything he'd divorce her, spread lies about her, and she'd end up an outcast. Her options were very few especially now that she has a young child. Her fear and her devotion to him as a wife kept her silent. She has loved Lee since their third date; she wasn't going to throw her life away with him over her husband’s business that didn’t concern her. They made a promise to each other in front of family, friends, and God. Lee's burdens would become hers, and the same goes for Lee's darkness.

"Someone's been sayin that one of the girls' at that whore house been sayin' I beat her."

Lee seemed to explain it to her with ease, like he knew it wasn't true, but Lee was a good liar.

"Well, did you?"

"Why would you ask something like that?"

Lee started towards her and Y/n partially expected him to chastise her. He wouldn't do anything with their daughter a few feet away from them, she assured herself.

"You really think I'm stepping into a whore house when I come home to you every night?" His arms wrapping around her waist made Y/n smile. This is what Lee did often to deter her from asking many more questions, and it always worked, she melted right into his arms. "The last time I was in that place was to arrest someone for causing a fight, and it damn sure wasn't a whore I roughed up."

Y/n wasn't satisfied with the answer, but she nodded as if she was. She knew not to question him after he had given her an answer he deemed fit. No woman wants to believe that their husband would be at a brothel getting “serviced”. She never found signs of another woman on Lee's clothes or his car. All she'd come across was dirt on the bottom of his pants and candy wrappers in his car. "You've got to believe me Y/n." His eyes spoke the truth, she believed. Y/n pecked his lips and Lee’s arms dropped from her waist.

"Sorry I can't stay for breakfast, but if I want to get back home earlier then I have to go in early. You two girls have fun together," Lee kissed Y/n's lips again before walking over to his daughter and kissing her forehead. She giggled when she felt his lips on her head. He was happy to see her in a better mood, but he didn't want a repeat of last night, "don't give your mama such a hard time today, okay? If I hear you been bad, I'm gonna have to put you in baby jail." She had no idea what he was saying, she just enjoyed hearing her daddy's voice.

"Be safe Lee. Please."

He nodded at her sympathetically before leaving. She heard his patrol car rev up and he was pulling out of the driveway. Y/n worries so much, but every night Lee has come home to her without a scratch on him.

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

Paul Sullivan has been the mayor for as long as Y/n could remember. He’s getting up and age but he’s a very beloved man. His popularity made Y/n worry about Lee’s own chances. The only thing that could knock the man down was his son’s reckless behavior. Darrel Sullivan was a few years younger than Lee and had a penchant for hard liquor and trouble. When his name started being involved in almost weekly bar fights, people started to wonder how a man as good as Paul could raise a son like that?

Lee had used the mayor’s trouble kid to his advantage. It just so happened that once Lee decided to run, Darrel ran into even more trouble. The last offense ended him up with a three month jail sentence (of course his father was responsible for such a lower number of months he spent in jail). A baggy of cocaine was found in his car. When did the mayor’s son escalate to cocaine when his vice had only been alcohol for years?

“It was bound to happen at some point. That boy’s brain is so used to booze that he had to turn to something much harder.”

The talk of the town had satisfied Lee for weeks after the arrest.

Y/n didn’t have to be told by him to know that the cocaine wasn’t Darrel’s and that it was planted. She felt bad for Darrel, but he wasn’t so nice to women so maybe some time in jail would do him and everyone around him some good. Still, Y/n was sort of shocked to see what lengths her husband would go to win. He often played dirty to get what he wanted, but messing with the mayor’s son who has evaded so much trouble was a very close call. Lee was lucky that he got away with it and many people didn’t have questions about it.

That phone Lee received this morning spooked her a bit. No one has ever called just to say there were rumors about him. It was a much bigger problem than her husband wanted to let on.

Y/n did her best to campaign upon Lee’s behalf. She’d tell all the girls at the salon about the newest dress Lee bought her and let the strangers know who stopped to tell her kid was cute just who her father was. Her efforts didn’t go unnoticed either. Her closest girlfriends were always eager to tell her that they overheard someone talking about how wonderful Lee’s wife and daughter are. Y/n believed that she wasn’t going to have to do much more than that, but some people didn’t care much about pretty wives or cute babies when the sheriff was allegedly causing trouble. 

Lee’s approach lately has been much more careful. He can’t get caught planting evidence on the wrong person or having someone rat him out. He was growing increasingly paranoid that the townsfolk were watching him closely. Even his deputies got the brunt of some of his delusions. Y/n saw the wild look in his eye every time he would confide his problems to her. Sometimes his words would blend together in a drunken ramble. Bodies...the river...laundering. He scared her sometimes, but she didn’t say anything. Y/n knows her husband has at least killed someone in cold blood; he confessed it in so many words. She wouldn’t be surprised if it has happened two or three times. She didn’t concern herself with the circumstances. If Lee had killed someone then it was probably justified in the eyes of morality and it wasn’t her business.

All of his revelations hardened her. She stopped being shocked after the fourth time Lee let something slip. Lee had never been violent with her the entirety of their relationship. He gets mad, he yells, and he has been guilty of calling her a name or two, but never ever has he laid a finger on her. Y/n was mostly an obedient wife so Lee never found a reason to be forceful with her. The only time Lee took out any aggression was on her was in the bedroom, but he figured she liked it because she’d moan louder than when he’s most gentle with her. Y/n wasn’t too fond of it at first, but she learned to love it and all the rough edges that began to appear as the years together had gone on.

“Here’s the plan for today, little one. You’re going to spend some time with the nice neighbor girl and you’re going to be a very good girl for her, okay? Okay honey?”

Her daughter just looked up at her from her little pallet on the floor. The toys that surrounded her were mostly bought by Lee. There were a few from her parents, but Lee was responsible for buying her too many toys.

While Y/n had never considered hiring a nanny before, it was often suggested to her. Lee  even told her to hire some help before the days get too rough and he's gone for longer throughout the day. However, Y/n was always hard-headed. She didn’t need the help, this was just a tough time with their daughter’s teeth coming in. Besides Y/n’s mother was just a phone call away. She always had an answer for Y/n that came from her years of being a midwife and from raising her own children. 

The only reason why she was calling over the Peterson's teenage daughter to come babysit was because she couldn’t help Lee in the ways that were needed and bring her baby along with her. Normally she’d put her daughter in her stroller and they were out and about, but this wasn't a regular daily task. It was summertime and her neighbor's daughter probably needed something to do while making some money on top of it.

"Does she need to go down for a nap, Mrs. Bodecker?"

"Not for another hour or two. She shouldn't be hungry or wet. Her teeth are starting to come in so she may get fussy, her teething ring is in the freezer and if that doesn't work then sing Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star to her."

Y/n knew it was a lot for the 16-year-old girl to take in, but she still nodded at every word Y/n said as if she got it all. Of all the little time her daughter had been here on Earth, Y/n had not left her alone with a stranger. It was hard for her to say goodbye to her little girl and leave her with a teenager, but it was bound to happen someday. And the afternoon was almost over, her day was calling for her to begin it.

Lee would be so pissed if he learned that Y/n was driving his car. She wasn't that great with the manual transmission, but she was only taking a short trip to her parent's house. Her brother was home to visit from Cincinnati. He was the child who went to the city unlike his sister. His original plan was to stay while Y/n wanted to go, but she had met Lee and decided to stay. Her brother never explained to her why he left for the city. She didn’t want to ask him too much in fear of prying into his business.

Y/n's parents were incredibly happy about Y/n’s relationship with Lee because that meant their only daughter was bound to stay near them. Her father respected Lee and often disregarded the town’s gossip because he saw it just as that: gossip.  

Her brother David was a different story. He didn't really like his brother-in-law. The age gap between them was his biggest concern. “Don’t meddle in your sister’s life. Lee is a good man,”  there mother had once tried to persuade him. It was tough when he heard rumors that Y/n didn't even know about at the time because she was younger. He moved to the city before he could hear just how worse things have gotten with the gossip about Lee Bodecker. David wasn't too thrilled to return for Y/n and Lee’s wedding.

Y/n found his disdain with Lee rather comical. Lee was a protective older brother just like David was, but they just couldn't see eye to eye. She recalls the Christmas fight that happened three years ago. David nearly kicked Lee's ass but his little sister protected her husband by shielding him. Y/n didn't want to involve herself, but if she had to pick where her loyalty lied, it would be with her husband.

"Why you stop by without bringing my gorgeous, little niece?" David wrapped his arms around his sister, surprised to see her pulling up by herself, but happy nonetheless.

"You can come over any time to see her David," Y/n ignores the frown that falls on her brother's face, "are mom and pop home?"

"Ma's at the salon and pop is outback cutting up some wood. I tried to stop him. His arthritis is getting worse, but he gives Ma and I hell every time we tell him to slow down. Is everything alright?"

"Yes. I just need a favor."

If she was asking her visiting big brother for help instead of her husband or their father, then it must be something she's trying to keep quiet. David was weary about his sister being secretive when she has an eight month old baby at home. In his eyes, if she's sneaking around then it's some sort of trouble.

"What kind?"

"Can I borrow your truck?" Y/n didn't elaborate, she just hoped that he'd say yes.

She can't go around town driving in a familiar car. Lee's personal car was too expensive not to notice and her father's truck had a damn logo on it. David's car though was perfect; no one would recognize the plates because he bought it two years ago from a dealership in Cincinnati, but it would blend in with any car that would be driven in Brewer Heights.

"Is something wrong with the cadillac?"

"No. I just don't want to be noticed. You know Lee doesn’t like me driving around in his fancy car."

If it wasn't for the immense trust David had in his sister, he'd say no. Something about her was off; her sweet demeanor replaced by something more discomposed. It was the same look on her face the night he had caught her trying to sneak out of the house when she was 14. Whatever she wanted to do, it would probably be better handled by someone else, but he didn't ask anymore questions, just handed her the keys.

“Get back before it gets dark, and be safe.”

“You sound just like pop,” she tried to joke to mitigate his worry but he kept a stern look on his face.

“I’m serious Y/n.”

"I'll be back soon," she promised. Of course she would, she has a child at home.

David watched her peel out of the dirt driveway and his car disappeared from sight. He only worried because he didn’t know what the problem was and she looked like she was dying to say something. Maybe in due time she’ll be able to tell her brother everything. Maybe they’ll laugh about it when the years have passed and they’re up in age. 

The streets started to become unrecognizable as she drove away from her parent’s home and a much different part of the county. Y/n struggled to materialize the exact location of her destination but from what she had gathered it was at the edge of town, almost entering a different county. All she's ever heard about it was that it was in a "shady part of Knockemstiff." “Shady” meant so many different things because she found the bar that Lee liked to stop at sometimes after a shift to be “shady.”

She hoped to God that Lee was stuck at the office with paperwork and not out patrolling. The sun was going to be setting soon and if he caught her over here all alone past dark, he may just never let her leave the house ever again.

Y/n was not ready to admit what she had planned, especially not to Lee. She herself hadn’t reckoned with it herself. The station her brother had on annoyed her. She turned it off and sat in silence. The only noise that accompanied her was the whirling sound of the wind that slipped through the cracked window. Her eyes peered at every building until they became less frequent. She could hear her blood moving through her veins as she gripped the steering wheel. Did Lee get this way when he did something he wasn’t supposed to? Surely he would be more composed than her, but he has the experience. 

She tried to lighten herself up by putting herself in Lee’s shoes. He probably wouldn’t hesitate or second guess his actions. If he did it, he most likely believed that the end justifies the means. No one who was innocent was ever hurt. They may have not committed a crime at the time, but they had before and would do it again. Y/n would have her own confessions to tell Y/n some day. She doesn’t need alcohol to spill her sins. Lee’s presence alone was compelling enough to get her to divulge her crimes, even the harmless ones.

The fact that she’s been driving around for a good half-an-hour lessened her anxiety but increased her impatience. She didn’t realize just how big the county was. It’s been a while since she drove herself anywhere. It was freeing, but she did miss her husband acting as her chauffeur. The thought of Lee driving her to the very brothel he has been accused of frequenting before he was a married man was comical. The consequences of her getting caught was only scary when she thought about how Lee would react. 

There was a large clearing of land before Y/n reached another set of buildings. A memory about one of them made her pump the break before passing the entry to turn in. She made a sharp turn into it's parking lot. Jimmy, her high school boyfriend, tried to sneak her into some bar but she was caught about her brother who also happened to be there. She remembered the distinct color of the door; neon green. It was an eyesore but it had never been changed, even when they switched owners. The place had closed down years later due to an excess of minors being able to sneak in. 

The crappy bar was not her concern, but the place next to it. She remembers Jimmy’s distinct voice whispering in her ear, the smell of alcohol ripe on his breath.

"That's where the girls who got nothing but good pussy between their legs go."

She had flinched at the words he used. She wondered what he meant by that, only 14 at the time and not really able to comprehend the concept of a brothel. It was the first time she's heard anyone refer to a woman's private parts as a "pussy..

Y/n didn’t expect the parking lot to be so empty. It was pretty early in the evening, maybe people did not want to be at a whore house when there was still daylight. Only one car sat in the parking lot of the bar. There was a makeshift parking lot on the side of the building and next to the old bar. It looked like it was not taken care of properly and a fire hazard waiting to happen. 

She circled around the building, eyeing it to see if there were windows to see inside somehow. Only a few small windows were on the building, but they were either foggy or covered in moss that it was a futile attempt.. Tire markings covered the dirt right in the back of the building. Y/n figured that most people parked back here so they wouldn’t get caught by any passing cars or authority. There was not much that could kill a man’s reputation like being caught in this place. 

Y/n settled for parking her car on the side of the bar. The likelihood of someone driving by and being able to see the plates of her brother’s car was very slim, but she found herself being extra careful.

Upon her arrival at the door, Y/n told herself she had no idea what she's doing, nor what she should expect. It probably wasn't common for a woman to walk into a whore house unless she was a whore herself. She hoped that she was unrecognizable with her usually pinned-up hair cascaded over her shoulders and a different shade of lipstick on her lips. The sunglasses were a last minute, ridiculous purchase, but it gave her a layer of protection. At least she could wear a disguise, Lee didn’t have anything to protect his identity when he did his own sinful acts. The least she could do for her husband is to not get herself caught.

Y/n wonders if Lee hadn’t been so secretive, would she have to do this? Lee did his best to hide things from his wife, but she isn't stupid, she goes out in town and hears things about her husband. Those rumors weren't small like he tried to lead on. "Someone" always meant more than ten people. In her eyes, this had been a long time coming; it was only a matter of time before she got sucked into his world without the intention of doing so. She could only feel so compelled to protect a man no matter the consequences if she loved him more than life itself. 

If he wanted to be secretive under the guise of “protecting” her then fine, but she hated that she had to piece everything together on her own. She heard his late night conversations when he failed to make sure she was sleeping. Whoever he talked to, they talked about a lot of things that didn’t sound wholly legal. From what she picked up from his phone call concerning this dilemma was that the owner of this place was referred to as “Reed”. He didn't seem too fond of Lee, and from the sound of her husband’s voice, the feeling was mutual. She had trouble keeping up with all the technical jargon of Lee’s phone conversations, but from her understanding Lee was threatening to get the place shut down. It would be a good look for him in his bid for being mayor. He would look like a hero if all the crime and sleaziness of this county was suddenly dealt with. Maybe they’d put his picture in the newspaper and dedicated a lengthy article to him and Y/n could clip it to the refrigerator. 

No one would think twice about connecting the dots that Lee was connected to several illegal operations going on around the county. Of all the rumors she has heard about Lee, the whore house bothered her most. It made her feel vain that she was only concerned with her husband cheating on her and not potential murders he has committed. Insecurity crept into her as she visualized her husband stepping through these exact same doors and finding his pleasure in a woman that had more experience than her. She did believe her husband when he said he hadn't stepped out on her while they were married, but that didn’t include their entire relationship. It shouldn’t matter because she was the one he decided to marry, but it still lingered in the back of her mind.

Her body shook to the core as she opened the door. She swallowed thickly as she wondered what sight she would be greeted by. It was an anti-climatic moment when she fully stepped inside to an empty place. It looked like a makeshift motel lobby and bar at the same time. Y/n thought it would be something more shabby and slimy, but it was not. Some pin-up model posters were plastered on the wall along with photos of random musicians. There were oddly a lot of photos of Frank Sinatra that had their own little corner of the wall. It was hard to determine what the vibe of this “establishment” was. One thing for sure is that she felt like an intruder. The posers on the wall made her feel stupidly bashful; this was a man’s domains and not a place for someone’s wife.

"Can I help you darlin?"

The smooth voice belonged to an older man. Y/n figured he was “Reed” because he looked like a Reed. And he appeared to be the only person here. She doubts a random patron would take to cleaning the place up by sweeping the floors.

"Uh -- are you Mr. Reed?"

Surprisingly, he just laughed at her stumbling over her words. It hadn’t dawn on her prior to a few moments ago that he knew his way around talking to a nervous girl. She ironically hoped that he thought she was just a lost whore, and that she wasn’t recognized as the sheriff’s wife.

"I am darlin’. Is there something I can help you with?" He asked again. Y/n was surprised that he wasn't intimidating, or greasy. He seemed so simple and kind, but he just happened to run a brothel. And he was the man who was saying awful things about her husband.

"I'm looking for a job," she made sure her words were as natural as possible. The little script she created in her head seemed like it would be easy to see-through, "I-I’m just wondering if you were looking for a waitress or someone to clean the place?"

A sly smile spread across his face. A shiver ran down her spine as she felt just how insidious this man was. A glance at him and he was unsuspecting, but a few moments with him, especially when he’s alone with a pretty girl and his true nature was hard to hide.

"You've come to a good place, darlin’. Let me put this away and I'll show you to my office."

He put the broom he held back into a closet and beckoned for her to follow him. Her heart thumped loudly as she followed him to potential danger. He could assault her or do something worse if he really wanted to. She was vulnerable now and just had to trust the process. 

They had passed multiple doors to get to his office, probably the doors where the girls would stay and please customers. Y/n tried not to imagine Lee being behind one of those doors with a woman touching his body. This place smelled like tawdry perfume, luckily something she has never smelled on Lee’s clothes.

"Do you have any experience waitressing?" He said the word as if he wanted her to believe that this place was anything but a brothel. For him it was possible that she really thought this place was something innocent, but he could always persuade a pretty girl who looked lost to work for him. 

"A few years...I was a waitress with my friend in Columbus for a year."

"Columbus? Why did you leave darlin’?" Y/n wanted to cringe at his constant pet name. No man talked to her like that besides her husband. It felt dirty to hear him call her something reserved for Lee and Lee only.

"Got into some trouble. My ex roughed me up a bit and I had to leave," Y/n recalled the story her brother told about one of his college friends: a homely sorority girl who got caught up with the wrong guy. She felt bad using the poor girl's story and reclaiming it as her own, but a sob story would make this man more likely to take her in if she guessed correctly.

"Well, I don't know if I'm taking anymore girls in-"

"Please!? Please? I don't have anywhere else to go. I really need the money and a place to stay. It was hell getting up here," she implored. 

Hearing her beg like that made his cock harden in his pants. There was something about a sweet little thing begging for his help that turned him on. He had no intention of turning her away from the beginning, but it was also nice to know how desperate a girl was; that made it easier for him to get a taste for himself.

However, Reed was either too horny or just an idiot to realize that a girl who had been traveling alone and from Columbus wouldn't be wearing such a nice dress that looked untouched. He was a sadistic bastard who liked employing girls that he can push around and Y/n was beginning to see that due to his negligence.

 His appearance absolutely covered up for how mean he was. Most bruises that ended up on his girls weren't from customers, but from him. He had to control himself when customers started to complain about the marks on the girls. (It was not like they cared for their well-being, they just wanted to fuck girls who were looked clean and pretty. Those men just wanted their fantasies fulfilled). His rage was taken out in psychological ways now instead of physical. He made sure those girls were in hell with no escape. He was sweeter on them if they opened their legs for him, but he was well aware that he could get away with doing whatever he wanted to them because they had nowhere else to go. If Y/n knew half the stuff he did then she wouldn't feel as guilty for what she was planning to do to him.

"I don't just hire anyone -- say, what’s your name darlin’?"

"Mary. My name is Mary."

"You gotta prove you deserve to work for me, Mary. Why don't you stand up and turn around for me."

Y/n dreaded following his orders, obeying him and spinning around slowly in her dress for him. The only man she had done that for was Lee. She felt like she was cheating on him, but she remembered that it was for him. His face was etched in her mind the entire time. The thought of him comforted her as she pretended like he was there with her as if he was God’s spirit, wrapping her in a feeling of vengeance instead of love.

"You sure are a pretty little thing. You been fucked before?"

"Once. Just by my ex-boyfriend."

"Good. I'm sure that pussy is still tight, I can just say you're a virgin and make one of those fuckers pay a heavy price for a piece of you."

Y/n nearly looked at him in horror, but gave him a half-hearted smile instead. She would act like she was grateful for him giving her a chance to make money. Her stomach churned at the thought of possibly not making it out of here. Reed’s eyes had darkened once he knew that she was in his grasp with no easy escape. He was a big man who could easily overpower her if she tried to do something stupid. But she seemed so obedient, like a perfect little girl.

"I can get you a bed, but you're going to have to reuse the clothes that are in there already. The girl who stayed there last up and ran away,” Y/n was very doubtful about that. Reed began rummaging through his drawer, pulling out a bottle of liquor before continuing, “If they don't fit you can trade with one of the other girls. You and the rest of the girls stay in your room until it's time to open. Can't have any of you roaming around in case one of those bastard cops decide to give me some trouble."

Her eyes glanced at the clock on the wall, it was nearly 8 o’clock. She did not think it would go this smoothly so far. Her anxiety didn’t cause her to make any major flubs that would get her caught; she just came off as an unsuspecting girl. Y/n just didn’t realize how simple a man could be in the presence of an attractive woman.

"Place opens at 9 every night, ‘cept for Sundays. I’m going to let you go get ready soon but I need you to learn my rules before you go out there and do something to piss me off," he shuffled in his seat for a few seconds, his face painted with discomfort, "first I need to go piss. Can you stay here and wait for me darlin’? Of course you can,” he left without waiting for a response from her.

Y/n waited until he opened his office door and closed it behind him. She had limited time to do what she had to do. She quickly moved behind his desk and began to fly through his drawers looking for arsenic.

There was a conversation she remembers Lee having with one of the men in town when they stopped in the middle of an aisle at the grocery store to talk. Most men believed that their wives weren’t interested in listening to whatever they’ve got to talk about with other men. Or that they just don’t understand what the hell they’re talking about. That may be true for Y/n most of the time but her ears perked up when she had heard certain words. Y/n had a penchant for being nosey ever since she was a kid, but it usually got her in trouble. She tried not to eavesdrop on Lee’s conversations but he made it so hard when he started to whisper and look around to make sure no one else was near. 

A word like "syphilis" had Y/n scratching her head. She hadn't heard of it before but apparently a man in town died from it after contracting it "at the whore house." It sounded serious. and from the context, something you get from fucking someone without a condom.

 A few books at the library confirmed her suspicions. She had to re-read some sentences to fully grasp what she was reading. From what she gathered, syphilis was treated with “magic” arsenic before they switched to penicillin. However, with Mr. Reed being referred to as a "cheap” and “old school” man multiple times in Lee’s conversation with the man at the grocery store, she believed (or at least hoped) that he still used that old method. But instead of Salvarsan, she found something that looked much cheaper and like it wasn’t obtained legally. She grabbed as many vials as she could and just began to dump them into his glass that held his dark liquor. She did it rather sloppily, her hands shaking when she realized that this was it. It was possible that she was more scared of getting caught by him than killing the old man. He’d probably beat her until she was unrecognizable.

Y/n desperately hoped it would work. If it didn't kill him, then it would certainly impair him since he was up in age and probably didn't take good care of his health anyway. She tossed the empty vials into one of the drawers of his desk and wiped whatever residue was on her hands onto the tacky shag rug on the floor. She had to get it off of her hand before getting in her brother’s car. She didn’t consider the risk of poisoning herself, but it arose inside of her the moment she felt a few splashes onto her fingers.

"Ok sweetheart," he had caught her on her knees, "what are you doing?"

"I-I dropped my earring."

He couldn't see her ears due to her hair covering them. He grumbled something about "women" but moved to his seat without question.

Y/n got off the floor and sat in the chair in front of him. He looked a little annoyed with her now instead of eyeing her like a piece of meat like he had done for the entirety of their time alone. She watched his hand intently, waiting for him to wrap his hand around his glass and bring it up to his lips.

"I run a tight house here. None of my whores act up and I expect the same for you. If you're good for daddy, he'll be good to you."

A loud buzzing in her ears made his words unintelligible. She panicked and wondered if it was the little amount of arsenic that got on her hand that was making her feel sick to her stomach. She needed to clean herself up, and Reed needed to wrap this up. But he just talked and talked and talked while she nodded along like she really cared or was paying attention. She held her breath as he picked his glass up and took the first sip of his poisoned alcohol. Y/n isn't sure why she expected an immediate reaction from him, maybe for him to spit it out or clutch his chest, but he just carried on. It was going to take time, and she just had to wait it out. She had probably about 45 minute left before it was opening time. What if there were people already starting to come? What if one of the girls was roaming around now?

"You got that darlin'?"

"Yes," Y/n choked out, not realizing Reed had finished his spiel.

"Alright. Your room is upstairs, take a left and it’s the third room on the right hand side. Just because you’re new doesn’t mean I won’t have your ass if you’re late," he kicked up his heels and reclined in his chair as he placed a cigarette between his lips. He lit it up and blew smoke right in Y/n’s direction, disregarding her grimace, “I’ll probably just let a few men use your throat tonight. Don’t worry, I won’t let them touch that pretty little pussy yet.”

Reed smiled coyly as if he was doing her a favor. He nodded towards the door and Y/n hot tailed it out of there. She didn't realize that she wasn't breathing right until she let out an exhale and then inhaled deeply. If he wasn't going to experience symptoms right away then it was going to take some time. There she ran the risk of him being able to get some help. It wasn’t likely that many people would call the cops to help a dying brothel owner, but she panicked that maybe somebody would.

Barricading him inside of his office was the only thing to give her reassurance. She grabbed one of the bar stools, heavier than she expected, and trudged towards his door. She gently placed the first one against the door so as to not to make a noise that would cause him to see what’s going on. Y/n did her best to run back and forth in her flats and placed each stool against his door until there were no more left. She added a few chairs to the growing pile to make sure it stuck.

Y/n paused when she heard someone starting to rouse. Whoever it was, or what, stopped making noise after a few seconds. Y/n looked up and started praying to God that she would not get caught, but the irony of wishing for someone to die did not escape her.

God just may have been on her side though. She got out of there with clean hands and not a single mark on her skin. Y/n knew that Lee couldn’t know about this just quite yet, but she begins to fantasize about Lee being proud of her and taking her to bed afterwards.

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

"Where have you been?” Imagine Lee’s surprise when he saw his neighbor’s teen daughter holding his little girl. Nothing seemed to be wrong, in fact his daughter was giggling at something the teen was doing. However, Y/n had not told him hiring a babysitter, nor did he know she was going to go out. She always told him if she was going out. If it was a spontaneous decision then a new question rose of where the hell she was during the darker hours of the day.

"I went to visit my parents and must have lost track of time,” Y/n kissed his cheek like she always does. She knows how to get Lee’s attention on something else, “David is in town and I wanted to see him-”

She was cut off by the sound of her husband groaning. It wasn’t often that his brother-in-law came into town, so it was only a matter of time before Y/n was dragging him over to her parents house for dinner.

“Whatever. Just put the girl to bed.”

Probably the first time, Y/n was happy to see that Lee was too tired to talk to her. She doubts he’ll have questions later about her whereabouts, especially if the death of the brothel owner hits his desk by tomorrow morning.

Y/n won’t worry about it tonight. She’s fine. Everything will be fine.

Their daughter went down easy tonight. She was tuckered out from her day with the babysitter. “Good night baby,” Y/n kissed her forehead and prayed that she would sleep through the night instead of waking up crying for a feed.

Y/n walked into the bedroom to Lee undressing himself. “Join me,” he nodded his head in the direction of their bathroom. There was a smile on his face, a sly one but not as lascivious as Reed’s. After being in the presence of such an awful man she was surprised that her body warmed at the idea of Lee’s hands roaming her body. He’s the only man she wants to be obedient for. The hot water on her skin cleaned her and the cum that sputtered out from Lee’s hard-on anointed her. 

“You feel so fucking good. Oh God...I was thinking about this pussy when I was at work...almost had to touch myself.”

Lee’s words were similar to the ones Reed had used earlier but they purified her. Her cheek pressed against the tiled wall as he fully pushed himself inside of her, hands gripping her hip. There was a low sound of their wet skin slapping together coupled with Lee’s own grunts. Y/n wasn’t particularly in the mood to have sex, but she just needed Lee close to her.

“I’m gonna cum Y/n -- I’m gonna cum honey-” his voice was cut off by his orgasm as he emptied himself inside of her. 

He slumped against her, his face pressed against her back as his arms wrapped her waist to bring her body closer against his.

“Do you think I’m gonna win?”

Y/n wiggled out of his grasp and turned off the water that was beating down on their skin. Water continued to fall down his face; his eyes were more than tired, they were sullen. 

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think people are really going to vote for me? They love that old bastard so damn much even though he’s old as shit.”

“Lee? Where is this coming from? Why are you so worried? People respect you-”

“But it doesn’t mean they like me. You and I both know that most of the people didn’t even start being friendly with me until the little one came along.” It was sort of his own fault, but Y/n would never tell him that.

“Don’t worry Lee,” she cupped his face, something he normally does, but it was nice to switch roles, “everything will be alright. I promise. You’re going to be mayor and I’m going to be the mayor’s wife.”

He nodded at her reassurance, but his doubt was hard to push away. He felt foolish being so vulnerable and borderline emotional about this, but his wife made him feel better. Her eyes were honest and words earnest when she said, “everything will be alright.”

Lee believed her.

[whereisten]

Heal

A Kun fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Doctor Qian Kun is a young and successful doctor who works miracles. And you are no exception when you become his patient.

Pairing: Doctor! Kun x female reader

Genre: romance, angst, fantasy, horror

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: blood, manipulation

(A/N: Thank you guys so much for your support with our Halloween fics! Hope you enjoy the adventures of y/n and Doctor Kun!)

___

You were no stranger to visits to the Neo Hospital in your hometown. When you were a baby, you basically lived at the hospital. You were prone to colds and fevers. You always experienced body aches and fatigue. You were born with a chronic autoimmune disorder that left many doctors baffled. They were only able to provide you with medications to alleviate your pains temporarily. You were confined to stay at home, to be homeschooled by your parents, and make friends online. Your childhood was far from normal.

You were a college junior now and you’ve been strictly online. If it wasn’t for the Internet, you probably would’ve lost your mind by now.

You had contact with the outside world but not physical contact. It’s what you longed for the most.

You resented your family. Your older and younger siblings could go out whenever they pleased. How did they get so lucky? Why were you the only sibling that got the short end of the stick?

Everyone in your family always interacted with you carefully, using hand sanitizer and always washing their hands prior to helping you with something. They treated you like a fine, porcelain doll that had to be preserved. It was irritating on your best days and unbearable on your worst. You felt like an abomination sometimes.

However, throughout the years, you would rebel. You would run away from home when your parents eyes wandered for a moment. The farthest you’d get before getting caught was the park. You were lucky that you didn’t develop any harsh symptoms from those times you ran away. However, you would be punished for taking such risks. You’d get your phone and internet privileges taken away for a month every time.

Last week, you succeeded in your most ambitious escape yet: you made it to Target to buy the new Ariana Grande CD. You thought that the one trip to Target couldn’t hurt you. By no means was it crowded and no one got into your space.

Well, you were wrong to think that you’d be fine.

Now you came down with a fever and you’d been placed on bed rest at your all-too familiar Room 1196 on the eleventh floor of the hospital.

You resented your body. A lot of people could recover from a fever and carry on with their day-to-day lives but you? Not so much.

Your parents made a whole spectacle of getting you to be seen by the best doctors but these doctors couldn’t help you the way you’d hoped.

However, this time, you awoke the next morning after your intake and felt...nothing.

Like you never had a fever in the first place.

You spent the morning checking your social media. Your crush/online classmate Sicheng was on a weekend hiking trip with his friends. He was with a bunch of beautiful, healthy people in North Carolina. You were even more bummed to be in the hospital now.

You wondered what life would be like if you didn’t have your condition. Where could you have gone? Who would you be now?

You’ve always wanted to go to the beach by yourself. To the supermarket. Hell, across the street. You wanted to go somewhere. Anywhere. Without anyone coddling you and watching your every move.

You wished for freedom from the body you were born with. To find a new one, somehow.

Because you had no hope for your current body to change.

“Y/n? Can I come in?” A male voice was heard from the door.

“Sure.” You sat upright on the bed.

The person at the door entered and he was the prettiest healthcare provider you’d ever laid your eyes on. He had warm, brown eyes and a radiant smile. His dark blue hair was wavy.

Suddenly, you regretted not brushing your hair that morning.

He donned a lab coat with the hospital’s name on it. His name tag was in a lanyard: Dr. Qian Kun, MD, DOM, PharmD.

He looked very young...And to have all of those titles? Your head was spinning.

He frowned as he saw how confused you looked. “Are you alright?”

You nodded. “I am.”

He sat on the chair beside your bed. “It’s nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Dr. Qian Kun but you can call me Kun.”

You blinked a few times. “Are you really a doctor?”

He laughed, confused. “What?”

“You don’t seem that much older than me…”

He sighed. “I get that a lot. I’m twenty-four. I graduated early from university...Earned my titles...Now here I am.”

“That’s amazing. You are probably the youngest doctor ever.”

Kun shook his head. “Afraid not. Bala Ambati became a doctor at seventeen.”

You shook your head. “Still...You have three doctorates. That means triple the sleep deprivation. Hats off to you.”

Kun chuckled as he looked at your information in his clipboard. “Your vitals have improved a lot since yesterday.”

You looked down at your hands. “Yeah...That’s impossible…”

Kun shook his head, noting how down you looked. “It is possible, y/n.”

You met his gaze. “How?”

He smiled. “Are you familiar with oriental medicine?”

He sure was charming, you thought. You reminded yourself to answer his question. “No, I’m not.”

Kun got up from his seat. “Well, there are many different practices that a doctor of oriental medicine can utilize, like acupuncture, meditation, and herbal therapy...To restore harmony to the human body. I specialize in herbal therapy.”

“I see…”

“I have created an herbal mixture that has worked efficiently to get my patients back up on their feet.”

Incredulous still, you managed to say, “That’s great, Doctor.”

He lifted an eyebrow.

“I mean, Kun.”

Kun resumed, “And I‘ve provided you with the herbal mixture and from the looks of it, the results have quickly taken effect.”

You were speechless. “That’s…”

“I know it’s hard to believe, y/n. But sometimes doctors fail to find other alternatives to help their patients. Which is why I’m glad I’m your primary physician now.”

“Wait, what about Doctor Morris?” Doctor Morris had been your primary physician since you were five years old.

“She’s retired. I’ve been taking on a couple of her patients now.”

“I see…”

Kun looked out your room’s window and smiled to himself. “You don’t trust me.”

“Don’t take it personally. I don’t trust any medical professional. No one has been able to understand my condition yet so…”

Kun replied, “You’ve been let down too many times.”

“Exactly. Doctors just can’t figure me out.”

He turned to you and grinned. “Allow me to prove you wrong, then.”

___

At the recommendation of Doctor Kun, you were assigned to stay in the hospital for the next few weeks to see how the herbal mixture would affect your body if you took it for a longer period of time.

Every passing day, you felt more alive. It was weird to say this but you felt more alive at the hospital than you did before. You were beginning to suspect that Kun’s herbal mixture was actually working.

The herbal mixture was made of feverfew among other medicinal herbs. It had certainly done the trick to reduce your fever overnight. You wondered just what this mixture was made of.

You just finished your online linguistics lecture and closed your laptop. You found Kun waiting at the door. “You free?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He sat down next to you and pulled some of your favorite candy out of his pocket.

He put the candy bar in your hand. His fingers lightly touched your palm. Your face warmed up at his proximity. “Happy Halloween, y/n.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out. How did he know you loved Twix? You took the candy bar into your hand and almost cried.

“Y/n?” He asked, worried.

You wiped a tear away. “Sorry...It’s just that this time of the year is hard because...I want to celebrate it. Go out and trick or treat...I know that time has gone for me but I hate that I missed out, you know…”

“Y/n…”

You sniffled and took a bite of the chocolate bar. “My parents never wanted me to feel like I was missing out so they would bring the holiday home to me. I was never in need of M&Ms, Skittles, Twix, or Sour Patch Kids…They even helped me make the best Halloween costumes. We would watch a bunch of horror movies all month long...But I wanted to be a kid. I wanted to go out with my friends and go door to door…”

Kun’s heart went out to you. He hated seeing you so down and so deprived of a life that everyone should have. “Y/n, you will be able to do all of the things you want to do in life.”

You looked at Kun and he had a determined look on his face. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’ve worked with people with conditions like yours...They thought they would be attached to the hospital forever one way or another. But with my methods, I was able to help them turn their life around. And now they’re living normally and fully.”

You sighed. “I’m happy to hear that...I just don’t think I’ll be one of them.”

Kun placed his hand over yours. “Trust me, y/n. I won’t let you down.”

You met his eyes, then, and you smiled. “Thanks, Kun. I’ve gotta hand it to you. You’re my favorite doctor.”

He beamed. “Is that so?”

You nodded. “Yeah...None of the other doctors ever gave me so much as a lollipop Even though that seems to be the norm on TV…”

Kun chuckled. “There’s more where that came from, y/n.”

___

It has been a month since you’ve entered the hospital. The medical bills were covered by an anonymous benefactor. Your family didn’t have to worry about the financial strain of your hospital stay.

Your family came to visit you and they were stunned at how radiant you looked. They were surprised at how much more ALIVE you looked when they expected you to be weak and miserable because you were at the hospital. Something about you was different.

“Doctor Kun is a miracle worker, isn’t he?” Your dad asked.

“I heard he’s a sight for sore eyes, too...Don’t you think so, y/n?” Your older sister Sydney teased.

You mom shook her head and helped fluff your pillows. “How are you, sweetheart?”

You smiled. “I’m better, actually. I think Kun’s methods are working.”

“Oh, are you two on a first name basis?” Your sister joked.

You rolled your eyes. “He told me to call him Kun. If you saw him, you’d feel weird calling him Doctor, actually.”

“He’s quite young, y/n. He graduated from a top university in Beijing at age 10. Then, he went to medical school right after. He’s been a practicing doctor for a couple of years now. He’s unbelievable,” you dad said.

Kun entered the room, then. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I’m Doctor Qian Kun. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Your mom was in love with him. Your dad was in shock at how young he was. Your sister wanted his number. You broke their stunned silence. “Kun, these are my parents Donna and Andrew. And this is my sister, Sydney.”

Kun greeted them. “I’m glad you are all here so I can tell you the good news.”

Everyone was shocked at the phrase “good news”. What good news could he possibly have to share?

Kun continued, “Y/n, your vitals are working at optimum level and we want to see how well you can fare by discharging you.”

You asked, “What?”

Kun smiled. “You can start having a normal life...In which you can attend in-person classes, go to the supermarket, take up a sport…”

You weren’t sure about the last thing he offered but everything else he suggested made you jump out of your bed. “Serious?”

Kun’s smile grew. “Yes.”

Your parents gave each other looks.

Your dad started. “Doctor, are you sure about this...y/n has lived all of her life in our home. The only outside world she’s ever known is our backyard and this hospital.”

Kun nodded. “I am sure. I’ve worked with several patients with similar cases as y/n’s and I would like to put the effect of the herbal mixture to the test. If there is any risk, she will immediately be brought back to the hospital and I will up the dosage for the herbs.”

After a few more minutes of discussion, your parents reluctantly agreed to take you home. To alleviate their concerns, you promised to consult with Kun once a week so he could monitor your progress.

You would be going home tomorrow and you had been given the green light to live a normal life. Outside. Go to classes. See your friends. Go to the beach. Buy fruits at the grocery store.

You packed up your belongings and Kun visited you one last time before you left. “Hey.”

You smiled brightly at him. “Hi!”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better than I ever have, honestly. And I have you to thank for that. Look, I’m not sure if this will work out in the end but the fact that I can take the chance and go out there...Thank you.”

Kun ruffled your hair. “I’m here for you, y/n.”

You did admit to yourself that you’d had a little crush on Dr. Kun but who were you kidding? He was so out of your league. You’d had a friend in him and you would always be thankful to him. “I have something for you.”

Kun’s eyes widened. “For me?”

“I wasn’t sure it’d get to my house in time but my mom got the package today. I told her to bring it today when everyone visited so…”

You pulled out a small gift bag with Kun’s present inside.

Kun smiled. “You didn’t have to get me anything.” “You’ve done a lot for me, Kun. I may have my doubts but I don’t doubt your intentions. And they're nothing but good. You’ve been doing so much for me. You’re setting me free...In a way.”

You handed the bag to Kun. He pulled out a little wrapped box from inside. He looked at you as he mocked suspicion.

He removed the wrapping to find a pair of AirPods. He gaped. “Y/n…”

You smiled. “For whenever you need to escape the noise…”

Kun had told you that sometimes he would get overwhelmed with his duties at the hospital and you’d asked him what gave him comfort. He told you it was music. So you figured something as light and portable as AirPods could help Kun calm down whenever he needed it throughout the day.

He smiled brightly at you and surprised you by wrapping his arms around you. “Y/n, thank you...You shouldn’t have…”

You froze. Kun’s toned body was against yours and you could feel the racing of his heart. Your heart probably beat twice as fast. You felt yourself get warmer and warmer. You pulled away from him, his hands on your arms.

He blushed. “Sorry…”

You cleared your throat. “Don’t worry about it…”

Your dad returned to the hospital room. “Y/n, you ready?”

Perfect timing, dad, you thought.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

___

It may have been the second semester of your junior year but you felt as nervous as an incoming college freshman as you entered Neo University’s grounds for the first time. You were meeting some of your friends for the first time ever.

It was one thing to see them on the screen but your heart accelerated thinking of what it would be like to see them in the flesh.

You’ve been doing well so far with the herbs Kun had sent you home with. You were able to go grocery shopping with your mom. She was still considering whether or not you could go to the beach yet. You hoped that your progress would continue so she would say yes.

You felt healthier than ever. You could breathe well through your nose. You felt no body aches. You were ready to cartwheel across the quadrangle.

First, you had to learn how to cartwheel, though.

“Y/n!!!!!” Jungeun called out to you.

Your blonde best friend ran up to you and jumped you from behind. “Ah!”

“Jungeun!” You gasped.

She laughed. “You said I could touch you so I wasn’t about to hold back.”

You hugged each other tightly.

“Y/n, it’s so good to see you!”

You and Jungeun have been friends since middle school so you were already a sobbing mess on your first day.

“Stop crying, y/n or else I’m gonna…” She started crying, too.

“Enough with the tears, already,” Dejun added.

You and Jungeun hugged Dejun to bother him, then.

He laughed. “Y/n, welcome to Neo U.”

“Thanks,” you said, smiling.

You three went to your seminar together and you were just so in awe of being in a classroom, you had trouble focusing on the lecture. You were even more distracted when you saw that Sicheng was in the same class.

He recognized you and waved. You were yelling so loudly on the inside.

Before this semester, you had the occasional online class that you shared. You saw Sicheng for the first time a year ago and your crush on him grew from there. He was one of the most popular guys on campus, according to Jungeun. You had a group project with him last semester and he was so...Perfect.

He was intelligent and down-to-earth. His smile was so sweet and his eyes pierced into your soul. He was talking poetry. It felt like you were seeing your favorite celebrity in person.

When class ended, you went to lunch with your friends and Sicheng joined you.

“How are you, y/n?” He asked.

“I’m great. Never been better,” you replied.

He smiled. “I’m glad. If you ever need anything, please let me know. You have my number.”

You nodded. “Of course. Same here. If you ever need anything. I’m here for you, too.”

Sicheng chuckled. “Great.”

When you finished lunch, Jungeun couldn’t stop poking fun at you. Sicheng left early for a club meeting. “I’m surprised he didn’t ask you out, then!”

You rolled your eyes. “Ask who out?”

Dejun added. “Me, of course.”

Jungeun continued. “The ‘you have my number’ couldn’t have been more obvious. He wants you in his dorm yesterday.”

You frowned. “And what would we do? Fix his bed?”

Jungeun and Dejun laughed. Jungeun added, “The opposite, y/n.”

Your face heated up then. “Oh.”

Since you have basically spent most of your life either at home or at the hospital, you never even considered the possibility of a love life. You tried to convince yourself that dating sims would’ve been enough.

“Don’t worry, y/n...You and Sicheng can take it slow...He’s no incubus who is trying to take your soul,” Dejun offered.

“True,” you said.

That was if Sicheng saw you that way in the first place.

___

A few weeks had passed. You’d been seeing Kun regularly to check in and everything had gone as expected. You were fine. You weren’t exhibiting any flare-ups. So long as you kept taking the prescribed herbs, you would be fine.

“How is everything, y/n?” He asked.

“Pretty good, actually. School is still school, even if it’s in person. But I got to go to a skating rink for the first time.”

He laughed. “How was it?”

“I am terrible.” You showed your legs. “It explains these bruises.”

Kun shook his head and chuckled. “I’m glad you’re getting out more, y/n. Try and take it one step at a time.”

“Oh, geez. I wish you said that sooner. I already joined a blood cult and I’m getting married next week.”

Kun rolled his eyes as he finished taking notes from your consultation.

“How is everything with you, doc?”

Kun’s eyes widened. “Me?”

“Surely, you’re not always at the hospital.”

Kun sighed. “Well, y/n...it just so happens that I’ve taken residence up on the top floor. The whole floor is my apartment. Don’t really get to spend much time there because I’m almost always on call.”

Your jaw dropped. “What? Kun, that’s abuse. You shouldn’t be working so many hours. It’s against the-“

Kun couldn’t help his smile appearing.

“You sneaky bastard,” you said.

You both laughed, then.

Sometimes you forgot Kun was a successful doctor. Sometimes he felt like your infinitely smarter senior at college.

He was a million worlds away from yours.

Kun answered, “Well, I’m doing fine, y/n. I meet up with friends once in a while and go white-water rafting.”

“That sounds like fun!”

Kun shook his head. “It’s challenging but exciting. I get a rush every time I go.”

You thought out loud. “I’d love to try it sometime…”

Kun pat you in the back. “When you are at one hundred perfect, I’ll give you the green light. Sounds good?”

You nod.

___

You’d wrapped up your midterm and you were ready to head home and take a nap. You walked through the student quad.

“Y/n!” Sicheng called out to you.

You turned around and found Sicheng running towards you.

You smiled, already warm in the face. “Hi.”

“I was wondering if you were free right now…”

“Really? Me?”

He smiled, confused at your question. “Yeah, you. Want to go to the movies with me?”

You nodded. “Absolutely.”

Sicheng drove you guys to the movies. He bought the tickets and the snacks. He let you pick the movie. You picked The Blair Witch Project. It came out over twenty years ago but the theater was doing a limited time screening of it.

You and Sicheng couldn’t shut up throughout the whole movie as you whispered to each and made each other laugh. You’d almost gotten kicked out of the theater.

You left the theater together and he asked you to dinner. You said yes. You were starting to think that this was a date.

“Y/n, this is a date, right?” He asked you at dinner.

You stopped eating your chicken parmigiana and looked at him with big eyes. “I think...Is it?”

Sicheng sighed. “I wanted it to be…”

You laughed. “Oh, thank God. I thought it was all in my head for a second. Maybe you were this nice to all of your friends.”

He pointed out, “I am not this nice to my friends, I can promise you that.”

Sicheng drove you home and kissed you goodnight before you entered your house. You felt like you were floating on a cloud now.

___

Two days later, there was a campus alert that Sicheng had gone missing. His face was all over the news. The last time he was heard from was when he told his best friend Jaehyun that he was going to ask you out to the movies. The last time he was seen was when he took you home.

Sicheng’s car was found a mile away from the dorms. The key was still in the ignition and his wallet and phone were left behind.

You were brought into the police station for questioning and you told them everything that happened the night Sicheng disappeared.

You were worried. What could have happened to him? Would he be alright? Would he be able to come back home? You missed him so much.

You took an evening stroll around your neighborhood to try and calm down. You reached the park where there was no other soul in sight.

Suddenly, you felt a tingly sensation in the back of your neck. You felt that someone was following you.  

You began to walk faster. Suddenly, you were pinned to the ground and everything turned black.

___

You woke up in Room 1196, then. Wait...It wasn’t 1196...It was a different room in Neo Hospital. The room was dark and you could only hear the sound of your breathing. It grew more hysterical with each second.

You felt a burning sensation in your neck. You cried out in pain. You cried out, “Help me, please.”

“Y/n…” You recognized Kun’s voice.

You nearly yelled out in pain but restrained yourself. “What...happened?”

“An animal attack,” he started.

You frowned. “What?”

Kun sighed. “It was good that I was there to help you in time, y/n…”

“What?”

Kun moved your hair out of your face. “I was in the neighborhood when I saw the beast attack your neck.”

“A beast?” You frowned.

“Sicheng, was it?”

Your eyes widened. “How do you-“

“You can’t hide anything from me, y/n...You know that’s not how our relationship works.”

“What are you talking about? Ahhhhh.” The pain was getting to be too much for you.

“Can you put two and two together, y/n? Sicheng bit you.”

You shook your head furiously. “No, he wouldn’t-“

Kun snapped his fingers and Sicheng entered the hospital room. His bright expression nowhere to be found. His eyes were a bright red and his lips had traces of blood on them.

“Sicheng?!” You asked.

Sicheng smiled, showing fangs in his teeth. “Hi, y/n…”

“Oh, my God!” You started.

Kun grew annoyed. “Alright, that’s enough pleasantries for my taste. Go.”

Sicheng walked away at his command.

You began, “What the-“

Kun smiled brightly at you then. This time, his straight white teeth displayed his own fangs. “Y/n...Sicheng has put you in a bit of a bind, hasn’t he?”

You tried backing away from Kun and getting off of the bed but it was almost as if the pain kept you from moving.

Kun ran the back of his hand down your cheek. “When a newborn vampire bites you, the bite is lethal...You could die anywhere between minutes and hours...It depends on the bitten, really…”

You flinched at his touch. “What...did you do to me?”

Kun inched closer to you and you winced. He lathered up the blood that leaked from your neck down to your collarbone.

“What had to be done, y/n. From the moment I first saw you, I knew that I had to have you.”

You cried out in pain. “Somebody help me, please! Sicheng, please!”

Kun, annoyed over you mentioning Sicheng, shut the door to the hospital room. “It’s useless, y/n. Sicheng wouldn’t be in this mess if he hadn’t infiltrated what is mine. Now Sicheng must endure the consequences and be at my mercy. I turned him so now he looks to me for instructions. Until I release him...Perhaps in the next millennium...”

You sobbed. “Kun, please make this pain stop! I can’t take it!”

He cooed. “I know, baby. I want to help you. Just say the word and I’ll make the pain go away.”

The pain dominated your senses so you couldn’t process how exactly he would make it go away. “Okay! Just do it!”

Kun got up onto the bed and straddled you. He leaned down towards your neck and bit into you.

You cried out again but this time the excruciating pain turned into a euphoria so glorious, you never wanted it to end. You wrapped your arms around Kun as he continued to drink your blood.

___

It was morning when you had woken up. You were in Room 1196 now. You shot up from your bed and found Kun seated right beside you.

“Good morning, darling,” he started.

You glared at him. “Bite me. Oh, wait, you already did.”

He smiled. “I see your energy is up. That’s good to see.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m going home…”

Suddenly, you stopped right at the door and your throat started to burn. Your senses heightened and you could sense that one of the nurses was walking right past your room’s door. You wondered what she would taste like if you caught her by surprise right then and there and…

What the holy hell were you thinking?

Kun sighed. “Don’t kill Joyce. She’s the most competent nurse on the staff.”

You ran into your bathroom door and looked at yourself in the mirror.

But you couldn’t.

You put a hand over your mouth and sobbed. “Kun!!!!!”

Kun joined you in the bathroom. “Ah, yes. You won’t be able to gain access to your reflection for another twenty years.”

“Twenty years...What is going on?”

“But what else, y/n? I turned you. To save your life.”

“Turned me into what, Kun?! Say it!”

Kun smiled. “Darling, you already know. Just admit it to yourself.”

You cried. “No…”

“You’ve always wanted a new body. A new life, y/n. And I’ve given it to you. I’ve made you the most powerful creature on this damned planet: a vampire.”

You fell to the ground. You could feel your fangs against your tongue.“Kun! Why did you do this to me? What did I ever do to you?”

Kun sat with you on the ground. “Because I love you, y/n. I never want to be apart from you again.”

You spat in his face. “You made me into a monster.”

Kun, unbothered, wiped your spit away with the sleeve of his coat. “I did not. I made you the best version of yourself you can be. Time for you has become infinite. Your body is immune to all illnesses now. You can see clearly. Your metabolism is in top shape. You are a goddess now.”

You shook your head. “Kun, take it back.”

He chuckled. “You’ve seen enough movies to know that that’s not how it works, y/n...You are mine now. Forever. Just like Sicheng. Just like a lot of the staff in this hospital.”

You shook your head rapidly. “Like hell I’m yours.”

“Y/n, I have been very generous up until this point. Using my blood to help you overcome your chronic condition. Funding your hospital bills...The least you can do is submit to me....”

It was hard to process all of the truths he just delivered. “Your blood?”

He laughed. “You mean you couldn’t taste my blood in the herbal mixture?”

You were about to throw up.

He chuckled darkly. “Admit it, y/n. You loved it.”

“Fuck you, Kun!”

He smiled. “We’ll get to that…”

You sneered. “You are despicable.”

His smile faded. “And you are testing my patience…”  He snapped his fingers at you. “On your knees…”

You stayed on the floor with your arms crossed across your chest.

He frowned as he snapped again. “On your knees, y/n.”

“I don’t think so,” you said.

Kun looked taken aback. “What? How?”

You got up from the ground and looked at him. “I will never submit to you for as long as I live..” If vampires were even considered living.

You ran quickly out of the hospital room, realizing you had superhuman speed now. You were able to leave the historial without facing any temptation to bite someone.

But your thirst had to be satisfied somehow and you had to find a way to quench it without hurting anyone.

___

[2 years later]

You’d skipped town not long after you turned. You sent letters to your family without a return address so as not to risk their safety.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I’m so sorry I ran away. I had no choice. If I didn’t leave, you all would’ve been in danger. One day, I hope to explain it all to you but in the meantime, live your lives fully and love each other. Don’t take anything for granted. I love you so much and will see you again.

Love,

y/n

You had become an infamous blood bag bandit as you moved across the country, running away from Kun. He would occasionally try and track you. Or he would send his henchman like Sicheng to do it for him.

You were lucky so far. You had never attacked a human being and sustained yourself on some blood bags you were able to nab from donating trucks.

The reason why you didn’t submit yourself to Kun that day was indeed because of his blood. Consumption of his blood made you immune to his influence. He couldn’t have you like he had wanted all along.

Kun had been obsessed with you from the very beginning. When you were discharged from the hospital the time you met him, he continuously stalked you. At college, at the grocery store, at your home...It would explain why he was able to send Sicheng to attack you.

He always knew where you were back then.

Kun commanded Sicheng to bite you then and put you at risk of dying. Kun’s plan was to save you, make you his vampire queen, and control you.

It was a shame he failed to see that his creation of medicinal herbs was the one thing that would lead to his plan’s failure.

You were immune to his commands and you weren’t going to stick around and see how else he would try and “win you over”.

According to your research, in all public records, Kun was now twenty-six. A blatant lie since he couldn’t age. So you wondered how long he would remain in your hometown. You kept a careful eye on your family every now and then. You’ve made some contacts to track your family occasionally, as well.

Kun had stooped low and you prayed he wouldn’t stoop even lower to get you.

You worked hard every day to work on your rapidly growing vampiric abilities. You couldn’t stick around anywhere for too long without arousing suspicion.

Now you weren’t confined to one space anymore.

You were confined to running.

You hoped to one day bring it this madness to an end and take Kun down. Save Sicheng and Kun’s other minions.

And for you to truly be free.

[Fin]

[lupin-for-president]

The Incident

(tw)

—

It was one day after the incident when Sirius Black found himself holding an ice pack to his, now swollen and black, eye.

James had wasted no time in telling Remus exactly what Sirius had done and what would have happened had it not been for him intervening in the last minute.

To say Remus was absolutely pissed would be an understatement.

He marched right up to where Sirius was talking to Lily by the lake, lightly pushed the red head out of the way, and swung as hard as he could at Sirius’ face.

He hit him with so much force that the boy nearly went flying into the lake, catching himself just in time as he clutched a hand over his eye.

The look Remus was giving him could only be described as murderous, and it sent chills down Sirius’ spine as he straightened back up.

Sirius felt his heart shatter right then and there as Remus flung curse word after curse word at him, not holding back in the slightest. Even as tears slowly started to drip from Sirius’ eyes.

Sirius had never seen Remus like this before —it almost reminded him of what he had imagined Remus would be like if he gave way to the wolf just a little— and Sirius never wanted to see this side of him again.

Sirius would rather be dead.

—

It was five days after the incident when Sirius Black found himself bleeding out on the quidditch pitch for the first time.

Snivellus and his band of Deatheater Slytherins had found him laying on the grass watching the stars with tears streaming down his face when they had decided to hex him. As soon as the first wand flashed, Sirius was in an overwhelming amount of pain.

Or at least he would’ve been if he hadn’t already felt so numb.

They stopped casting hexes and left when they noticed that Sirius was hardly breathing, all of them being too scared to stick around and get caught with hurting, or even possibly killing, another student.

Sirius hoped for the latter.

And had it not been for Dorcas and Marlene sneaking around past curfew, that might’ve been the case. They found him blacked out, blood staining all of his clothes with a deep crimson that reflected sickly in the moonlight.

He woke up a few days later with Madam Pomfrey beside his bed, bandaged up from head to toe. She informed him that he would heal up just fine and that there was no permanent damage. He simply thanked her and did his best to muster a smile, but there was no feeling behind it.

Sirius would rather be dead.

—

It was two weeks after the incident when Sirius Black found himself in detention for getting into a fight.

He had passed by a third year boy in the hallway and overheard him having a conversation about a certain werewolf and his suspicious new scars.

The behavior was so unlike Sirius that Professor McGonagall had to do a double take when she forcibly pulled him off of the innocent boy he was pummeling, nearly gasping at the sight of his emotionless and empty grey eyes.

She pulled him to the side, dispersing the crowd of onlookers the fight had caused, and stared down at him with a gaze that was enough to tie Sirius’ stomach into knots.

She wasn’t the first person to give him a look of pure disappointment.

James Potter made sure to give him one of those looks every single day.

He was aware that she knew exactly what had happened just fourteen days prior and he had fully prepared himself to be scolded by her, but instead she just asked if he was alright and if he wanted to talk about it.

Of course he didn’t want to talk about it.

Sirius would rather be dead.

—

It was a month after the incident when Sirius Black found himself having a panic attack in the middle of the Great Hall.

It was the first time he had been in there since Remus had found out what he had done, and Sirius just couldn’t bare the thought of sitting at that god forsaken Gryffindor table.

But he finally forced himself in, taking a seat on the opposite end of his friends, next to a sweet looking second year girl with blonde pigtails. She smiled up at him and he felt his heart clench out of guilt when he couldn’t smile back.

It was only when he looked down and saw that the food in front of him was none other than Remus’ favorite meal, that the air was viciously ripped out of his lungs.

It was all too much.

He started clutching his tightening chest, heaving, gasping, wracking for the breath that he suddenly couldn’t seem to get in through his trembling lips.

The young girl reached her hand out to him, concern pooling in her deep blue eyes, but he simply flinched away. Standing up from his seat, he weakly stumbled out of the Great Hall and into an empty corridor.

He couldn’t let Remus or James or Peter see him like this, he didn’t want them to think he was weak.

Sirius would rather be dead.

—

It was four months after the incident that Sirius Black found himself clutching his knees to his chest as he cried in his bed.

He was in the bathroom when he had heard Remus and James walk in, the two having no idea he was in there. For the first time in months Sirius finally felt an emotion other than heartbreak and self loathing.

“Do you still love him?” James had asked Remus.

“Yes.”

The one word nearly made Sirius scream out with joy, he couldn’t believe it. Moony —his Moony— just admitted that he still loved him. For one, brief moment, Sirius felt a small tinge of hope.

“But I wish I didn’t. And I hate the fact that I do. And I want to stop.”

Then the world came crashing down on him again.

It took everything in him not to break out into crying sobs right then and there, but he waited until they were gone and slowly emerged, staggering blindly to his bed.

The tears were stinging his eyes as he replayed Remus’ words over and over again inside of his head. He had forgotten what hope felt like and wished on everything that he hadn’t had such a small taste of it just then. Sirius would rather be miserable his entire life.

Sirius would rather be dead.

—

It was six and a half months after the incident when Sirius Black found himself staring up at Remus Lupin from the ground.

He was drained, hadn’t slept in at least a week and a half, hadn’t eaten in the past four days —he was getting dangerously skinny— and was hardly able to walk correctly. The dark circles under his eyes looked sickening against his tan skin, but he had long since lost all cause to care.

His head hung heavily between his shoulders, eyes trained to the ground, as he rounded the corridor corner. A weak huff pushed past his lips when a body slammed into him, knocking him down onto his back.

“Shit, are you alri—”

The boy’s words cut off as soon as he saw who he had caused to knock down, Sirius looking blankly up at him. For a second, Sirius nearly thought he saw a wave of concern flash over Remus’ face, but he knew it was just his imagination.

He turned his eyes back down, collecting the books that he had dropped due to the fall, and struggled to push his frail body off of the ground.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, nearly too quiet for the other boy to hear, before continuing his walk to class.

He couldn’t stand to wait around and chance seeing the look of disgust he had grown so accustomed to seeing on Remus’ face reappear. He couldn’t stand to see those pretty pink lips he loved so much curl up into a snarl one more time.

Sirius would rather be dead.

—

It was eight months and three days after the incident when Sirius Black found himself standing on the ledge of the astronomy tower.

His entire body was shaking —whether from the strength it took to stand or the wind billowing past him, he didn’t know— and silent tears were streaming down his flushed cheeks. His knuckles were turning white as he gripped onto the stone, the only thing keeping him in place.

He just couldn’t anymore.

He couldn’t wake up one more day knowing that Remus —and his other two best friends that he loved more than anything in the world—hated him.

He couldn’t go through another potions class watching Remus’ hands shake any time a Slytherin sent him even the smallest glance, sometimes even causing him to drop a vile altogether.

He couldn’t walk through the hall all by himself as the people he cared for most brushed past him like he was nothing more than a vapor, a nonexistent ghost floating by.

He couldn’t spend one more night staring numbly up at the top of his red and gold four poster bed, curtains tied shut, as he listened to Remus’ laughter.

He just couldn’t.

He couldn’t live with the fact that he had hurt the one boy he swore on his entire life he would always protect. It was all too much for him to bare and it was crushing him and the pain was just so excruciating.

So his hand let go, and he lifted his foot to step off the ledge, eyes trained forward to the waning moon in the sky.

Sirius would rather be dead.

And he would’ve been.

Had it not been for the pale hand that wrapped around his wrist just in time, yanking the weak boy back into the tower and into a firm chest.

Sirius could hardly stand, his knees finally giving out beneath him, his body only being held up by the arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Looking down at him, tears spilling out of his amber eyes, was a very heartbroken Remus Lupin. Sirius was confused, holding onto his consciousness just long enough to hear one sentence slip from the scarred boy’s mouth.

“I don’t want you dead.”

[i-see-no-whump-up-here]

Whumpmas in July (Day 9): "Look at Me"

A full 3 days late, I'm rolling up with this drabble, @whumpmasinjuly . I did my best. This lovely drabble has betrayal, as well as a little stabby stab.

-------

Emmett’s skull seared with pain as he clawed his way back to consciousness. He raised his hand to clutch at his head, but it never found his forehead. He tried his other hand, and that one wasn’t cooperating either. He grunted quietly and kept his eyes clothes, not willing to face the burning light surely waiting for him. His whole body ached. He searched his brain for a moment, and then he remembered why.

Driving to interview someone… the light was green… then a car slamming head-on into the passenger side… Charlie! They were driving. Where was Charlie?!

Emmett’s eyes flew open. He gasped in pain at the sudden light and blinked rapidly, trying to clear them. He managed to get some sort of image in his vision, and that’s when he realized when he didn’t have his hands. They were tied behind his back, and he sat in a chair in an empty room. It looked like a normal room in a normal house, based on the plaster walls, but plastic drop cloth covered the floor. That meant they planned to kill him or at least make him bleed somehow, and they intended not to leave evidence. They were professionals.

A man sat in a foldable chair in the corner, and now that Emmett was clearly awake, he watched him boredly. Then, he tucked his phone in his pocket and left the room. He took the chair with him. They put a guard over him to make sure he didn’t escape, so he was probably just grabbing someone else.

If Emmett was clever enough, maybe he could get them to reveal if Charlie was here. Hopefully they were less injured, since the car hit Emmett’s side and whoever this was wanted him alive, so they probably kept them alive too.

The doorknob turned again soon after, but he’d had enough time to brainstorm tricks to gather information. Every single one flew out of his mind when Charlie stepped through the door.

They weren’t bound. They weren’t being held at gun point. They weren’t upset, or even hurt, save for a few cuts on their face. Emmett’s confusion squashed his initial wave of relief. He barely registered the two men flanking them.

“Your eyes look like they’re going to pop out of your head,” Charlie commented calmly. Emmett untangled his tongue and got his mouth to move.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” Emmett asked. Charlie’s lip twitched.

“I’m fine, now. I thought that car crash would kill you, but alas, here you are,” Charlie crossed their arms. Emmett’s brain stirred his groggy thoughts around, searching for explanations.

“You don’t seem happy to see me,” Emmett noted. Where was the sense of happiness that always accompanied his partner? Charlie waved their hand.

“Yeah. I thought you’d be dead, and I’d catch a break, but you were determined… as usual,” Charlie said. Emmett’s frown grew deeper. They seemed to be working just fine, so Charlie shouldn’t need a break from him. The investigation was making progress, and they’d just recently broken through some tough roadblocks. Did he miss a mistake he made?

“I’m here, Charlie. I’m okay. Get me out of these, and we can get out of here,” Emmett said. His head hurt and he wanted to go home. Maybe he could think clearly there. Although, he probably needed to stop by medical for his obvious concussion.

Charlie snorted. “What? No. No… you’re here for life, Em. At least for what’s left of it.”

Emmett watched them, still trying to understand. Mind control wasn’t a real thing, and if someone blackmailed his partner, they’d find a way to tell him, so he racked his brain for other explanations. Charlie waited a few moments for them to figure it out but quickly grew impatient. They had always been the impatient one…

“I’m with them, dumbass,” Charlie snapped. A ball lodged in Emmett’s throat. ‘Them’ could technically be any number of criminal groups, but based on their investigative focus and how long they’d been around…

“You’re a Finelli. You have been this whole time,” Emmett breathed. He was so stupid. He let them into his house— his home. They were partners. They lived and breathed and fought together for the last three years. “So none of it was real?”

“Nope,” Charlie said, popping the ‘p’. Emmett shook his head. He knew his emotions needed to wait until later, so he’d try to push them down, but they forced their way to the surface. Appealing to Charlie’s emotions would be his best hope.

“What about all the times we saved each other? All the times we watched each other’s backs? That was real connection, Charlie. We’re partners,” Emmett insisted.

“You’re a nuisance,” Charlie said, and they might as well have smacked Emmett. “I hated every moment of this dumb mission.”

“Even the carpool karaoke? The- the stakeouts?” Emmett asked. It was a dumb habit to single out, but it was all that he could bring to mind. Those were his favorite moments with them. Charlie strode toward him, producing a knife as they walked. The blade rested against his throat.

“Especially the karaoke. In fact, I think I’ll cut out your voice box… keep it as a souvenir of this miserable mission. A little prize for all the torture I had to endure.”

Emmett tried to lean his head away. After all they’d been through… all the late nights going through evidence and the drunken ubers home… he blinked rapidly.

“He’s crying already?” A voice cut in— one of the men who had entered with them.

“He cries really easily. I’ve spent at least $200 on dry cleaning just because he kept getting snot on my suit jackets.”

“But you- you cried on my shoulder too…”

“I didn’t want you to get suspicious. The one time I did it.. I wasn’t upset about Brian’s death. I was the one who killed him.”

“What?!”

“They were getting too close, so the boss called it,” Charlie shrugged. The coroner declared Brian’s death as natural— a heart attack. Charlie must’ve somehow induced it. Emmett wondered what else Charlie had done— what else had they destroyed? Had other incidents been their making?

“Do you regret it? Surely you must feel something… for me at least?”

They stared at Emmett, and there seemed to be a hesitation there— a glimmer. Emmett kept going. ”I care about you. I know my family does, too. Is this really what you want, Charlie?” Charlie’s knife came away from their neck a little, and Emmett watched them hopefully. “There’s still a chance to change this. I’ll help you.” Charlie’s hand fell away from Emmett’s neck, and he straightened back up. Charlie adjusted their grip on the knife, and Emmett glanced at the guards near them.

Emmett carefully considered his next words and opened his mouth. Then, the knife plunged into his shoulder. Emmett screamed. The moment he could think again, he realized he heard laughter. Charlie was laughing.

“Ah, man. I got you. Whoo!” They hunched over and then checked that the other two guards also found this funny. They forced laughter. “You really thought you were what… appealing to my humanity?”

Emmett tucked this chin in and stared intently at the room’s corner. There were a few cracks in the trimming, and they quickly became interesting.

“No, Em. As much as I hate the term, I’m a full-on psychopath. I don’t get petty feelings like that.” A short paise, and then a hand grabbed his chin.

“Look at me.” Emmett ignored the command. The grip tightened, and Charlie dragged his chin upward. Emmett closed their eyes.

“Look. At. Me.” Charlie’s other hand grabbed the knife, and they drove it in deeper. Emmett whimpered, but he kept his eyes closed.

“Why?” He managed.

“Because Boss wants to make an example of you— discourage other cops from taking up the case after us. You’re going to die slowly, and painfully, and you might as well do it with dignity.”

Emmett huffed in pain. “Ah, so you do care.”

“No,” Charlie corrected. “I just don’t want it to be boring. Are you so cowardly that you can’t even face me?” Emmett shook their head. It wasn’t that they couldn’t face death, or even pain. They knew a terrible death might come from this investigation, and they were surprised they’d made it nearly four years without that. But this person— this person that they let into their life and their home and their trust. They wouldn’t forgive themselves for being so blind. Charlie dug their nails into his chin. It stung his soul as much as his skin.

“Open your eyes, or your daughter dies next.” Emmett couldn’t risk it. Even if it hurt, he needed to keep Mylie safe. He owed her that, after letting this monster take her to school and attend her dance recitals. His eyes cracked open. Charlie grinned.

“Perfect. Let’s begin.”

[warpriest-writings]

Red eyes on Grandmother's grave. 

    Sticks broke under her feet, running as fast and hard as she could but it felt like running through jelly, her feet caked in heavy mud. 

“Someone! Help me!!! Please!” She cried out but couldn’t hear her own voice.

Before her was the pair of sharp, red eyes out in the middle distance. She couldn’t make out a face; she wasn’t even sure if the eyes were attached to anythin, just floating there, haunting her. Those hungry, starved eyes that wanted to devour her. The eyes just hung there as she sat there frozen. 

“What do you want!?” she screamed out, but again her words came out silent. 

The sharp, red eyes narrowed, then rushed towards her as a hand reached out at her.

With a difficult, almost pained, inhalation of breath, Patsy woke with a startled jump, accidently knocking her kitty out of bed.

She gasped, “Bean! Come here. Mweh, mweh.” She made kissy noises to her large Maine Coon. Rubbing her fingers together as she did so attempting to soothe Bean and entice her to come back into the bed. Not that Bean needed much convincing; no one in the Desoto household could remember a single night that cat hasn’t slept in Patsy’s bed. By the time she got Bean back in bed and started petting her, Patsy had almost entirely forgotten her nightmare about the...was she running? Regardless, after several minutes of kitty snuggles, she checked her phone, loathing to discover that it was 5:53, merely thirty minutes before her alarm would have gone off anyway.

Of course, she wouldn’t have been lucky enough to wake up from her scary dream at a reasonable 1:17, or even a moderate 3:32. Good, god given times in the early morning a girl could go back to sleep too. Patsy sighed and entered an anxious state of contemplation, debating getting in the shower now and getting that out of her morning routine or laying there, blissfully enjoying the time before she had to get up for real. An absolute miserable time that went on in her head until her alarm went off. Ah, yes, neither productive nor relaxing. Thank you, Anxiety.

Getting out of bed with a less than encouraging groan, Patsy began her morning routine. Feeling emotionally and mentally exhausted by 6:45 AM, Patsy walked briskly down the stairs while putting her long and bouncy kinky hair into a ponytail.

“Morning, Mom!” 

Her mom, Elana, looked back at her as some toast popped out of the toaster, “Hey, Sweetheart!”

Joseph, her dad, poured two cups of coffee before handing one to his wife as she handed him the plate of now buttered toast. “Hey, Pats. Finished your homework last night?” Giving Elana a quick kiss.

“Course, Dad,” she said, silently beaming that her parents were still happily married after nearly sixteen years; it was more than could be said about several of her friends at school.

Her mother was the manager at a local small diner, it was a nice little place, near enough to her school that Patsy would usually walk there at the end of the day and hang out with her friends or finish her homework before her mom’s shift ended at six when the night manager came in. Her father worked from home, and studied. Technically, he was still a student at the University of Illinois, but he worked a lot of sub contracted programming and coding jobs on the side. Once she asked him why he was still in college and his reply was, “Sometimes people are just...nervous about getting out there, and sometimes you just so happen to be very good at filling out grant applications. Your momma has a steady job that takes care of us, and my work on the side makes sure we stay in the green.” 

“Need a ride to school today, Pats?” her dad said, snapping Patsy out of it.

“I’m good; I kinda want some time to just think,” she told him.

“It’d be nothing, it’s getting colder out and I love driving my babygirl to-”

“Joseph,” her mother interrupted.

He backed down, “Alright, alright. Letting Pats be all independent.” 

“Thanks, Dad. I think I’ll have breakfast at school today, I’m going to get going,” Patsy said.

Joseph began reaching into his pocket, “Need money?”

“I’m good, I still have twenty from helping out at the diner.”

“Now hold on, that’s your money. It’s our job to feed you,” he said, and offered her a five, “Take it, and make sure you grab an apple or an orange or something those school food scientist freaks can’t turn into half-baked prison sloop."

Patsy nodded, “Okay, okay.” She took the money, then gave her dad a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “Love you, mom. Love you, dad.” Then grabbed her backpack from a kitchen table chair and made her way to the door, only partially catching what her dad was saying about Patsy being braver than he was for voluntarily eating school food.

From her house it was roughly a twenty-minute walk to school. Normally, she would have jumped at the opportunity for a quick ride to school, but her mind was still preoccupied by that dream. Most of it was lost, faded just beyond her consciousness’s reach. Those red eyes; Patsy could still see them crystal clearly in her mind. She could almost feel them on her back now. Patsy shuttered at the thought.

As she walked she barely heard the wizzing of bike tires until they were right behind her, lost in her thoughts Patsy made a sound reminiscent of an “Eek!” and jumped off to the grass beside the sidewalk. The biker slowed to a stop, “Miss. Pascala, are you alright?”

He knew her name? Patsy looked at the biker, as she had been largely looking at her moving feet up until that point and the fact that from her perspective the biker was right in front of the morning sun, she had to squint and couldn’t really make out his face, “Uh, yes. I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Hmm?” he took off his helmet, revealing quite the head of curly locks, “Miss. Pascala, a little out of it this morning?”

As her eyes adjusted she suddenly realized, “OH! Mr. Morales, sorry. It was all sunny, and I was kinda lost in my thoughts, and I’ll just stop talking now.”

Her history teacher looked at her with a bit of a raised eyebrow, “I shall see you in the third period, Miss. Pascala, have a pleasant walk. Homework is due by the end of class.” He awkwardly coughed and rode off, quickly moving into the bicycle lane of the road.

Sometime later, after what is by all rights and definitions a poor excuse of a breakfast that would send Mr. DeSoto into a rambling state of disbelief that this was the best that taxpayer money could do for feeding America’s youth, as well as Patsy’s first hour math class (math first period of the day, she was convinced that the school gods hated her) and her second period economics class where they learned..something, Patsy was sure of that. She remembers taking notes and everything. There was a presentation with slides and everything, so they must have learned something...So after econ was her history class with Mr. Morales.

She liked Mr. Morales, more than her math teacher that’s for sure. “Math is the language of the universe.” She was taking English and French and frankly didn’t feel like she had time for a third language course. Mr. Morales was different, he got swept away with the subject sometimes and seemed to have a real love for it.

“We can learn much from history, but the people who made it weren’t trying to teach morals, and they weren’t thinking about just how important that what they were doing took place in 1776, or during the first or second half of the twelfth century. The past is made up of the actions of people who were concerned with living their lives, and if what they were doing was the right thing to do, or the right thing for them.” Mr. Morales said on the first day of school. He was also just a bit odd. His thick curly hair, a trait he described as indicative of his strong greek heritage, was peppered ever so slightly. Otherwise he held onto his youth remarkably well. looking closer to mid twenties rather than late thirties.

After the class ended, Patsy went up to her teacher, “Uh, Sir, excuse me.”

Mr. Morales looked up from his tablet from which he often powered through novels, “Hmm, yes, Miss. Pascala?”

“I was just going over that pop quiz you handed back today and I would have gotten one hundred percent if you didn’t mark my answer for question two wrong.” She said,

He set his tablet down, “That is usually how people do not get full marks. Allow me to double check that.” He held his hand open.

Patsy handed him the paper, “You see, I’m certain the correct answer is B and I’d like to get full credit.”

“Third century B.C. Yes, you are correct. I’ll be sure to update the gradebook and parent portal to reflect this. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Miss. Pascala, I imagine I marked everyone else who answered as you did as incorrect as well.”

He handed her back the quiz after remarking her score and immediately wrote a note he then stuck to his computer monitor.

She excused herself and left with a bright smile, making her way to her next class, and then on and so forth with her day. As she was heading towards her computer typing class after lunch (which was not notably better than the breakfast, it is a wonder that these children survive long enough to eat microwaved ramen in college dorms.) She accidentally bumped into the Principle as she was turning a corner.

“Ooft!” She said, feeling like she walked into a lumpy brick wall.

Principal Robertson cleared his throat and looked down his nose at the young lady, “It is not becoming to run down the hails and blindly around corners.”

He had been the principal at her school for well over fifteen years now, and he seemed to live for it. Participating in school spirit events and playing along with the dress up days, at least he did last year. No one wanted to really mention it but over the summer he lost a lot of weight and his skin got paler...greyer was almost more accurate. Hushed rumors said he was diagnosed with some cancer or another but refused to stop working while on chemo and Patsy wasn’t sure what to think of it all. Looking down at her now she wasn’t feeling very comfortable.

“I, uh, I really need to get to class.” Patsy said

The sickly Principal sighed a heavy breath, “Just slow down.”

“Right, of course. Thank you Mr. I mean, Principal Robertson.” With that she took off, carefully walking not-to-quickly.

Passing around the next corner and with her computer lab in sight Patsy let out her own sigh of relief. The bell ringing just steps away, “Whyyyyyyy?” Patsy said in a hushed, exasperated tone.

She quickly rushed into the room and to her seat, hoping maybe she wouldn’t be marked late. The class lesson began and she got to work with her typing program. 

“Hey, Patsy,” Her friend Abby said, “Think your mom would give me a ride home after her shift at the dinner?”

“Course, Abbs.” She replied, “You getting anywhere with these?”

“Not really, my hands know the keyboard but my words per minute is garbage.” Abby said.

“My words per minute is fine, but I have to force myself to type the way that we’re supposed to. It doesn’t help that at home I always just type with my pointer and middle fingers.”

“You type a lot at home?” She asked, “Are you writing something?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin, “No! of course not...I just look up a lot of random stuff when I’m bored.” She must never know.

Abby raised an eyebrow, “Mhm, right.” 

Over the intercom the school receptionist called out, “Pascala DeSoto to the Principal’s office, Pascala DeSoto to the Principal’s office.

Abby winced, and tried to give her a reassuring smile.

She tried to return it, her thoughts were racing. Surely she wasn’t being called down to the Office for accidentally bumping into the Principal in the hallway was she? Why wouldn’t he just take her there right after she did it then? Maybe it wasn’t about anything she did at all. Oh God...what if her dad accidentally started another grease fire trying to make home fries? What if Mom got into an accident on her way to the dinner? Her mind was a beehive that someone just punted halfway across a football field. 

The receptionist must have noticed the worry on her face and gave her a very sweet smile, “Don’t worry about it too much, Sweetie. Just keep your chin up and remember none of this will matter in ten years.” Reassuring words, either her parents were fine or she was just as unsure why she called down Patsy as she was herself.

Bracing herself mentally, Patsy opened the door and pushed it to the magnetic door stopper that held it open.

“Closer the door behind you, Miss. DeSoto.” Principal Robertson said.

Her stomach did an uncomfortable flip, she wasn’t sure why she was feeling so destressed over this. She hadn’t done anything as far as she could remember or mentally justify. She closed the door, getting a last glimpse of Mrs. O'Riley, the nice receptionist.

Run! Every nerve in her body screamed out but she moved forward to sit in the chair opposite Principal Robertson at his desk anyway. He spoke up; she only saw his lips move, the words not landing correctly in her ears.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Could you say that again?” She asked.

His brow furrowed, “I do not care for repeating myself, Miss. Desoto.”

She sank in the chair. “Sorry.”

“And do not mumble. Speak clearly or not at all!” 

Patsy sat back up in her seat in shock, “Principal Robertson, I don’t think you’re allowed to speak to me like that.”

“Do not speak back to me, you’re the one in trouble here.” He said venomously.

Trembling she stood up, “I need to go.”

He got up as well, “I think not, DeSoto. You’ve been hiding really well, tricked everyone but not me.” He licked his upper lip.

A full body chill ran through her entire being and oddly, in retrospect she felt, Patsy really wanted her kitty Bean there. She said, “Principal Robertson, you can’t be serious right now!? Think….think about your wife!”

Robertson frowned hideously, “That bint isn’t important.” He smiled, which was so much more disturbing to the young lady, “not like you, DeSoto, you have been worth all of my effort and patience.”

He reached out for her when the door opened, “Principal Robertson,” called out an all too reassuring voice, “I was wondering if you had the chance to look over those field trip papers I….” His hand less than two inches away from her, Patsy’s whole body was trembling but she couldn’t make her legs run.

Mr. Morales stood in the open doorway, his eyes moving quickly from Patsy to Robertson. “Miss. Pascala, behind me.” He said putting himself between them.

The Principal scowled in frustration, “I’m not entirely sure what you think you are doing, Linus. You are acting like I am some sort of threat to the girl.”

“This doesn’t look good, James.” Mr. Morales replied.

Robertson scowled deeper, and Patsy in that moment of fear and confusion thought his scowl pulled unnaturally at his skin. 

Mr. Morales raised his hands defensively, “What are you?” Striking a serious tone with his voice that she had never heard from her history teacher before. It was a cold voice that set her skin on edge almost as much as Principal Robertson had.

Before her eyes the late fifties Principal of clear declining health grabbed Mr. Morales  and threw him against a glass case containing various trophies for academic and sports accomplishments. Patsy left out a loud scream and Mrs. O’Riley’s own scream wasn’t far behind. 

Later the police officers that responded to the Receptionist's call would ask Patsy what happened next, and she told them the truth. It all happened so fast she wasn’t sure what exactly happened. Mr. Morales, who had bruised ribs, and some cuts from the glass but was thankfully otherwise alright, shouted something that didn’t make sense to her at Robertson and the Principal ran off. She didn’t get to hear what Mr. Morales told them but they questioned him for a good long while. 

School was cancelled early and parents were furiously calling the school board and the district for answers. There was a warrant issued for Robertson, and some people were threatening to pull their kids altogether. No one wants their kids to go to the school where the principal threatened a fifteen year old girl and assaulted a teacher. 

Superintendent Wilkens sent a parent portal wide email that a warrant was formally filed against Mr. Robertson and the police had opened an investigation. In addition to Resource Officer Thomas three more Iron county police officers would be stationed at the school for security and rest assured that school would be open again Friday.

“No, no...this is ridiculous. My daughter was threatened by that man.” Patsy’s dad said to the Superintendent’s secretary. “Don’t put me on hold! ….Yes, I believe that you do have another call coming in. I….” he sighed heavily, and tossed his cellphone into the living room sofa.

“Sweetheart.” Elana said, putting her hands tenderly on Joseph’s shoulders.

“We worked with that man in the ice cream socal last year, Laney.”

Just out of their sight, sitting against the hallway wall Patsy hugged Bean. Now more than ever the tridactyl kitty gave her some comfort. She kept replaying it over in her mind, Robertson’s face looked so...uncanny valley. Elana had tried to reassure her that it was just her mind playing tricks on her, wanting to think that he was somehow less than human because of how he was acting. 

Her phone buzzed, touching the wall it tapped rapidly and loudly and Patsy reactively tried to grab it before her parents noticed.

“Pats? Babygirl, I thought you were laying down.” Her dad said, walking over to her, flipping the hallway light on. “Well, I thought you were scrolling through your phone, pretending to be laying down.”

She gave Bean a little squeeze like when she was littler, “I tried, but I couldn’t take a nap.”

“It’s okay, Pats. How'bout I make up some of my famous root beer floats?”

She slowly nodded, “That would be good.”

“Come on, Patsy.” Elana said, “We can sit at the table while your father makes us a feel better treat.” 

She got up and walked over to the kitchen table, Bean closely trailing her like always. “Hey, think I could maybe sleep in your guys' bed tonight?”

Elana quickly glanced at her husband, the pair of them sharing a whole conversation in a moment.

“Of course, Pats.” Her dad said, “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“It’ll be like when you crawled in my bed when you were little after a nightmare woke you up.” Elana said.

Her father was scooping ice cream into three tall milkshake glasses as Patsy pulled Elana into a hug, “Thank you for being my mom.” she said softly.

Elana returned the hug, remembering the first time Patsy told that to her and felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She was Pascala's mom, there wasn’t any doubt of that. She didn’t give birth to Patsy though. Her birth mom and Joseph’s first wife passed away when she was less than six months old, an oncoming driver didn’t stop at the red light as she was going through the intersection on her way home from work. Elana was her birth mother’s best friend and Patsy’s godmother. After the funeral she just kept helping Joseph out with Patsy, eventually moving in with them. Joseph and Elana married when she was seven, but she had really always been her mom.

As frustrated as he was with the situation, Joseph did his best to cool down and help Patsy feel better, telling his corny dad jokes he spent hours and hours looking up at his computer desk. 

He spent almost a half hour that night checking and double checking that every door and window was locked that night, as well as making sure their security system was armed. Unlike Patsy, who almost couldn’t sleep without Bean snuggled next to her, Elana found the heavy cat overly warm but she gritted her teeth through it for Patsy’s sake.

The next morning, Thursday, the day after her high school Principal threatened her, assaulted a teacher and just disappeared. She woke up to the smell of her dad making eggs, over cooking them. Elana always made them a little runny. Everything seemed to run by a little slowly. Like she had been jerked out of a deep daydream and couldn’t pull herself entirely out of her own head.

Around noon she and her mom were watching a cartoon as Joseph entered the room on the phone, “I see, well, thank you, Linus. Yes? I’ll ask her now, we were planning on going to the diner for lunch anyway.” He pulled the phone slightly away from his face and turned to the pair on the sofa, “Pats, Mr. Morales is out of the hospital. He asked if it would be alright if he met us at the diner today.”

She let out a huge sigh of relief hearing he was out, that meant he was okay, “Yeah, that sounds good!”

Joseph put the phone back to his face, “She’s okay with it. We’ll see you there at one. Yep, bye, it was good hearing from you too. And...thank you, Linus.” he hung up and put his phone into his pocket. “He said the superintendent pushed the school’s opening back to Monday, I guess we angry few can make a difference.”  

Elana pulled her legs onto the sofa and sat cross legged, turning towards him, “That’s great! I think that’s what WIlken’s should have done from the start, but hey. So we’ll be eating with Patsy’s english teacher?”

“History teacher.” Patsy said, correcting her.

“Linus is also one of my work associates, but yes. He just wants to check in with Pats.”

She nodded, “Alright, I’m going to take a quick shower before we go.” 

She gave Joseph a quick kiss on the cheek as she left the room, her husband replacing her spot on the sofa.

Patsy gave her dad a big hug. “So Mr. Morales is alright?”

“Some cuts and bruises but he sounded alright, he didn’t talk about himself much.” Joseph said.

Before long they were sitting down as Margret, one of the servers at the diner, was bringing over a pot of coffee for Joseph and Elana and a Shirley temple for Patsy. “Hey, Patsy.” the retirement age waitress said, “How’re you holding up?”

“I’m okay, Margret.” She said, putting on a cheerful voice.

“That’s the spirit, I’ll be sure to bring you over the biggest slice of cake.” She said

“Yay cake!”

Elana laughed a little, “We’re going to wait to order, Margie. We’re waiting on another person.”

The older waitress nodded her head slightly, “Sounds good, Laney. I’ll be back in two shakes with your refreshments.” With that she was off to serve some of the other customers, or guests as corporate would like they be referred to.

The three of them chatted while they waited for Mr. Morales, while they did Patsy’s thoughts drifted to the bizarre notion that when you see someone you only ever see at school, or school related events that when you see them out and about in everyday life the person is suddenly almost unrecognizable. Like in those children sitcom shows where someone says “Wait, you mean teachers don’t live at school??” or something else mildly insulting to the audience about their perceived intelligence. Still, Patsy wondered if it was going to be super weird seeing Mr. Morales not just outside of school, but on purpose outside of school. He normally dressed in clean but not ironed dress pants and some sort of long sleeved shirt, either a button up or a sweater; would he be wearing a rock and roll band t shirt and shorts? What if he wears his curly hair in a manbun outside of work? The horror.

It was almost a disappointment when Mr. Morales showed up in tan dress pants and a blue sweater, as well as a sling that held his left arm, some bandaging on his cheek with some purplish bruising around its edges.

“Linus,” her dad said, “Glad you could make it.”

“We’re both just so grateful for what you did yesterday.” Elana said as her husband scooted further into the booth, making room for him.

“Oh, I only did what any good samaritan should have in the situation.” Mr. Morales said, sitting down. “Ah!” He smiled at the pot of coffee sitting on the table, “May I? I’m afraid I skipped my usual morning cup...come to think of it, skipped most of my usual morning routine today.” 

“Go ahead, refills are free.” Patsy said.

“Are they?” He asked with a smile, awkwardly pouring himself a hot cup.

Margret returned, prompting her mom to say that they’ll probably need a few minutes for Mr. Morales to decide what he wants.

“Oh, go ahead.” The teacher reassured, “ I know what I want, a short stack of pancakes, and two pieces of bacon on the chewier side.”

“Oh, alright!” Elana said, “Brunch it is then, I guess we’re ready to order. Patsy, you go first.”

Patsy put in her order, a belgian waffle with strawberries and a lemon poppyseed muffin. Her father ordered the same as Mr. Morales, but he wanted his bacon crispy. Elana ordered two sunny side up eggs and some toast to dunk in the yolk. With that Margaret took off again.

“It just seemed so...out of nowhere.” Patsy said, suddenly.

Surprised, Elana reactively gave her a side hug, “No one ever expects these sorts of things to happen, Sweetheart. All that matters is that you’re safe.”

“Principal Robertson wasn’t...normal, right?” She asked, addressing her teacher.

Mr. Morales avoided her gaze, looking down into his coffee.

“Pats, Robertson wasn’t the man we thought he was, or he changed or something messed up.” her dad said.

“You saw his face too, right Mr. Morales, you asked him what he was.”

Her parents, worried for Patsy, then looked to the teacher they invited out.

“Miss. Pascala, I don’t know what had gotten into him, or what had become of him. That certainly wasn’t the man I have worked with for over two years now, but rest assured. He wasn’t some abnormality, he was a man, a man who revealed himself to be quite the monster.” Mr. Morales said finally, just as their food arrived.

To her parent’s relief, Patsy dropped the subject. They ate and her dad asked Mr. Morales how she was doing in his class.

“She is an ideal student” he told them, “Attentive, curious, she has a mind for nuance, and seems to genuinely want to understand why people did what they had done in the history lessons.” Which unfortunately made her quite uncomfortable, like she was in a parent-teacher conference all of all of a sudden.

As Patsy began to withdraw into herself, Elana asked her, “So, Patsy, is there anything else you’d like to do in town today before we head home?” She hoped to bring Patsy back to the surface of her own mind.

“Huh?” Patsy asked, she heard what her mom said, but her brain hadn’t really processed it yet. Something it usually would do about a split second after someone repeated what they said to her. “Oh, uh...well I was hoping we could go swing by grandma’s grave?” She stated her request with the inflection of a question. Her grandma wasn’t buried very far from where they lived. However, she knew that her dad always had a hard time going. He stayed in the car when they visited her grave a couple weeks before school started.

Joseph swallowed hard, but nodded, “Of course, babygirl.”

Mr. Morales raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t realize you had family buried here. I was under the impression that your family moved here from Louisiana.”

“We did, but Joseph is from here originally, we moved back here after his mother got sick.” Elana explained.

Mr. Morales turned his gaze back to his coffee, “I see.” Patsy could see his eyes darting swiftly like he either realized something or was thinking very swiftly. She felt like she could relate. “Miss. Pascala, Joseph, Elana. Please do not take me for overreaching but I’m not sure it is safe for the three of you to go to a location like that right now. If Robertson is following you it would be quite the place for an ambush.”

“Linus, don’t speak like that in front of my daughter.” Joseph said, something of a warning in his voice. 

“No, dad, it’s alright.” Patsy said, “Mr. Morales, do you really think it’s a bad idea to go to the cemetery?”

Mr. Morales looked to Joseph, who wore an expression that clearly said “Be careful how you say things.” He looked back at Patsy, with a small sigh, “I think, perhaps you should at least wait under after school starts up again Monday? Thank you all for this lovely meal, but I think I should be going. This should cover my food.” He swiftly got up and pulled his wallet out and with just his right hand awkwardly pulled out some bills. Leaving forty dollars on the table as he took off.

“I think you scared him.” Elana said simply, pouring herself another cup of coffee.

They ultimately didn’t go to the cemetery, to both the annoyance and relief of her father. In fact they stayed in for the rest of the day. Watching TV, playing a popular kart racing game which Joseph began quite smuggly. Only to lose to his daughter because of an npc driver launching a nuclear option that blasted him back to third place less than half the track away from victory.

Patsy told her parents that she felt comfortable enough to go to bed in her own room that night, and Elana made chicken parm hero sandwiches. All in all the day drifted by quickly after their lunch with the odd Mr. Morales. It was almost 10 at night when she finally told her parents she was going to bed, and they reaffirmed their own tiredness from the day and wouldn’t be up much longer themselves.

Of course, Patsy wasn’t really going to bed.

She stayed up for hours, just to be sure they had actually fallen asleep. Her dad. Patsy disarmed the security system and left the house, heading straight for the cemetery. She had to see her grandmother’s gravestone. Something about how Mr. Morales reacted just didn’t sit right with her. It had to be around 1:20 in the morning now and it was very dark and while it was brisk out during the day her fingers quickly started going numb and she could see her breath.

The ground of the cemetery was hard and bumpy from thawing into wet muddy ground under the sun during the day. Patsy walked through the cemetery at a brisk pace, wanting to get to her grandma's grave and back before her parents could wake up to find out she snuck out of the house...or worse she was taken by Robertson. The made her stomach clench up, and she began regretting this whole idea. There was a rustling in the bushes and she began to sprint, she felt like running home and forgetting all of this but she was painfully aware she was heading right towards the grave.

She came to a quick stop, looking down at the engraved stone. Ellinore DeSoto, 1961 to 2017. She knelt down, tears building in her eyes. Deep down she knew coming here now was a mistake, her grandma wouldn’t want her sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, especially not under the current circumstances.

She sniffled, alright she got to the gravestone and proved exactly nothing. Time to get home as fast as she possibly could and swear off stupid impulsive decsions forever.

The wet smacking of lips that made her skin crawl.

“Pr.principal Robertson?” She tentatively asked, standing up and turning towards the gross sound. Her eyes widened in grotesque terror as she looked at the swollen thing that only scarcely held the appearance of her principal, the purplish grey skin stretched uncomfortably tight as the creature smiled wider than nature as she knew it allowed.

“Pascala Desoto,” It still spoke with Principal Robertson’s voice. “So courteous of you to come to me, now we may continue your...disciplinary measures, young lady.” The creature stuck out it’s purple tongue which extended down past its belly.

Patsy wanted to run, scream, anything, but her legs refused to move. Her body frozen. It walked up closer to her, and it’s foul breath was like a thick miasma that made her lungs clench up and burnt her throat, she couldn’t even tremble in fear.

“Speechless, DeSoto?” It leaned in and inhaled deeply by her hair, it chucked out as it spoke, “Yeeheeehesss. Your flesh will do, your form will do.”

Over the creature’s shoulder Pascala saw another, and the ghoul’s smile turned into a scowl. Apparently it noticed him as well.  It wrapped it’s unnaturally large hands around her, its index finger on her shoulder and its pinky on her waist. Turning to face him it snarled out, “This is my Witch, get your own.”

The man stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight, the beams catching on his glasses, “Let her go, Corpse eater.” He held a revolver in one hand, and an old medieval looking sword in the other. His arm wasn’t in the sling anymore and he didn’t look injured at all.

“Morales, I knew I should have crushed your throat when-”

Her teacher cocked the pistol and aimed it right at his head.

“G...go ahead. I am not something you can kill with a bullet.” The ghoul said smugly.

“In your state it will hurt, it’ll be a whole world of agony.” Morales said, calling the monster’s bluff.

It took a slight step back, balking out a grunt in some fear. “We can split her! I don’t need her blood!”

Patsy’s eyes widened at the suggestion.

“Don’t worry, Miss. Pascala. This thing won’t harm you...and survive.” His voice was cold again, and she couldn’t help but feel an intense fear. Maybe from the slight tremors she felt through the ghoul’s hand, but somehow she knew that this thing that used to be her Principal was terrified.

“I can’t go back to the corpses people bury, they poison them, and every time I feed I whimper in agony for years, only to need to feed again, the cycle is torture! Have mercy!” The ghoul begged.

“You do not want my mercy, Corpse eater. It is at the end of my sword.” He began walking forward.

The ghoul released Patsy and pinched her throat, “Another step and I’ll break her neck!”

Reactively she reached up at the monster’s finger’s “I don’t want to die!” she sobbed, were she in a more clear headed situation she may have realized she can move again.

Mr. Morales paused, scowling back at the hellish beast. 

“That’s right! You...you have a fondness for her, your student, HAH! So long as I have her in my grasp you won’t risk harming her.” The ghoul grinned hideously in it’s little victory.

Her history class teacher inhaled sharply, then said, “If you are going to do something, now would be the time!”

Principal Robertson the ghoul frowned, “What are you playing at?!” 

Out from the bushes a large orange cat ran up much faster than Patsy had ever seen in her life and pounced on the ghoul’s forearm, clawing and tearing at it. The ghoul released her and she dropped, quickly and frantically crawling into an upright sprint several yards away from the monster.

Bean used the ghoul as a springboard and sprinted over to Patsy. The Ghoul was screaming and clutching the wounds the cat had left on it, as Morales lunged forward and with a clean swift strike cleaved the monster’s head from it’s shoulders.

Patsy’s breaths were short, and she pulled Bean into her arms as she tried to calm down. Morales wiped his blade off on the grass before sheathing it and steeping over to his student as he holstered his gun.

“I’m sorry, Miss. Pascala.” He said, “Are you alright?”

“What, what was that!?” She asked, looking at the ghoul’s limp body.

He paused, like he was unsure he could answer, “...Is there any world where you could accept that this was all a bad dream?”

She shook her head, “No, I have nightmares all the time, this is real.” Patsy looked at her teacher and gasped, she tried to step back but only fell backwards. “Those eyes!”

Mr. Morales sighed, and pulled his glasses from his face. His eyes were a hungry deep red. “Please, Miss. Pascala, I mean you no harm. You have my word, my oath as a man who has spent his very long life guiding the minds of the youth, and protecting everyone who I find in need of help.”

She tried to steady her breath, with Bean in her arms she felt much bolder and confident, “Those eyes, I’ve seen them in my nightmares, I trusted you and you’re another one of those things!” She pointed to the ghoul.”

He was taken aback, and gestured at his face, “You’ve seen these eyes in your dreams? Miss. Pascala, I assure you I am not a corpse eater.” He grabbed his lip and pulled it up, revealing a long and sharp fang. “I am a vampire, and amazingly you seemed to have augured my presence in your dreams.”

She stared at the fang with wide, slightly horrified eyes. “...Huh.”

“Huh. That...is a first.” The Vampire said, “I imagine you have questions, and you deserve answers. Especially if you refuse to accept this night was just a bad dream.”

She nodded, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, trust me I’m trying. Still here, next to my vampire history teacher.”

“Very well, Miss. Pascala. This ghoul was hunting you because you are a Sorceress, and whoever gave you that cat was as well. Seeing as how that animal is a Familiar, your Familiar.” He said, “Monday, come to my class after school, and I will tell you more. For now just go home, you’ll be safe there with the cat. I need to clean this up before anyone comes by and finds it.”

It was be a difficult thing to believe that Patsy would just accept things at that, that she would just go home and enjoy her long weekend with her folks, and she could just scratch Bean behind the ear knowing she was some magical protector her Secret Sorceress Grandma had given to her as a little kitten. That she could be nearly eaten and just go back to bed. All that can be agreed upon is that Patsy got out of bed the next morning around 10:30, that she took a shower and had slightly runny scrambled eggs for breakfast. Another thing that can be certain is that Patsy would never doubt what happened, what she saw and what she heard, and that the story of Pascala DeSoto, The Sorceress of Illinois had only begun. 

End Chapter

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