#insomnia has been kicking my ass and work was insane

[caitlynmeow]

ya girl is gonna go all Victorian and staying at the beach for a couple of weeks to not feel as dead. I will probably not take my laptop with me but I can post on here as usual because internet is still a thing buuuut I probably won’t be able to update Daniela’s diary because I need my laptop to post on ao3 so I’ll try to update tonight and the rest will be posted when I come back from my Victorian retreat

[writefinch]

Family-Owned Small Business

(CN: incest, sex work, mentions of sexual assault & suicidal ideation)

The worst part of my job is administration. Last-minute rescheduling when a client flakes on us. Chasing up payments. Booking accommodation at short notice. Answering messages! Jesus, every time in the last year when I've slumped, sighed, and thought to myself "fuck working, I need a break from all this" it's been when I've opened my messages and seen thirty different texts that need a reply. Some people are fine with it I guess, but for me it's boring, time consuming, and stressful.

Big deal though, right, I mean nobody loves doing admin, why even bring it up? Well, if I tell someone that for work last night I ate a client's cum out of my mom's pussy, I'd expect that they'd get fixated on the sex work and the incest. I'd expect them to freak out and not pay attention to the specifics of what I'm saying. So, first, I'd like that person to know that the thing I hate about my job is probably the same thing that *they* hate about *their* job. I would rather lick my mom's asshole for five minutes than answer emails for five minutes, and I answer a lot of emails.

Do we have to worry about violence, danger, cops, and legal trouble? Yeah, we do. Am I scared of these things? Yeah, sometimes, but I had to worry about all of those things before I started doing sex work. At least now we've got the money to buy our way out of the worst of it.

I'm not saying that what I do with mom is an objectively healthy relationship, let alone a perfect one. If you took me back in time and told me I could pick a completely different life for me and my mom, I'm sure there's a bunch of choices I'd pick over this one. But I never had that choice. I got hurt a lot growing up. I feel like I've finally escaped the things that hurt me, but I know that I've barely started to recover from them.

That's why I'm writing this. We've saved enough money to afford some therapy and my first session is next week. I want help with the fear, the nightmares, the mood swings and insomnia, I want to stop the rush of rage and terror that flows through me every time I see the word 'dad,' I want help untangling the stuff that came out of being told I was a pansy when I was growing up, then figuring out I'm gay, then figuring out I'm a girl, then figuring out I'm all three of those things while I was living in a place that kept trying to kill me for it. What I don't want is for the psych to pin it all on the two least harmful and least fucked-up things about my life, and worse, I don't want them to make me believe it. This journal is a prophylactic, an assessment of my job, my relationships and my life that I can refer back to if and when someone sticks their fingers in my brain and swirls them around.

I'll start with a problem statement: my dad. The memories that hurt the most are the ones where he almost appeared human, the flickers of joy, curiosity and humor that stood out from the bland cruelty that made up the rest of his personality. I'll remember him buying me ice cream or talking about a book or a movie with me, I'll doubt myself and wonder if I just went crazy and cut him out of my life for no reason, and then my brain will hook onto a random act of sadism he inflicted on me.

The physical abuse was bad all on its own, real psycho shit like driving me out into the woods and making me pick through the brush for a switch he could hit me with and a whole lot more I won't go into, but the emotional abuse was worse. When I was eleven, I forgot to feed my cat one day. He gave her away to my uncle, but told me that she'd developed malnutrition and had to be put down. I didn't find out the truth for another two years, when he just let it slip at Easter. He bragged about it, even, like he'd invented a really smart child-rearing technique. I don't want to write too much down here because I don't need to, if anything I want therapy to *stop* everything he did from running through my head. He's a punishment-obsessed sadist, a Baptist, and he works as a judge. Did he ever sexually abuse me? No. Parent of the year, right? He kicked me out for being a fag the day I turned eighteen, so it's ironic that my biggest fear is that he comes looking for me. He doesn't even know I'm a girl.

On the other hand, my mom has had an interesting life. She's kind of a fuck up. When I was one year old, mom and dad split and dad got full custody--being a judge helped with that--while mom left the state. She spent a decade trying to kick a heroin habit and a year and a half in prison for related stuff, got banned from even entering the state I lived in on account of her parole--again, dad being a judge helped with that--illegally emigrated to Canada for a while, and went to Oregon by mistake, doing a mixture of bartending, delivery driving, MDMA dealing and whoring to stay afloat.

The only reason we met again is that I was in the same city staying with friends, also whoring. I don't remember the first time I saw her, but the first time we talked was in a mutual friend's tiny studio apartment with a few other hooker friends. We ended up comparing our Pest Lists, shared a few drinks, and swapped numbers. A week later we fucked, and a month after *that* we realized that we'd Oedipus'd ourselves. It seems funnier now than it did at the time.

That was an emotional time. We cried with joy that we'd found each other, we started tip-toeing around the ideas of rebuilding our lives together, and we agreed to pretend that the sex had never happened. Of course, we got drunk together a week later and fucked again. She's hot! I have a thing for older women, I have a thing for breaking taboos, and I have a thing for being mommied in bed. Blame dad for raising me like this, I dunno.

We started doing sex work as a team after she got a dental abscess. The bill for the hospital stay and the tooth removal was insane, and the dentist straight-up told her that she'd end up with another in a different tooth within a year if she didn't get two root canals. Even when she was recovering, we could only afford fish antibiotics off of Amazon. We crunched some numbers and made some inquiries, and figured out that we could pull in two week's worth of our combined income with one night of mother-daughter stuff.

Our first joint session was with a real estate pervert I'll call Stan, a chubby balding powerlifter in his fifties who we'd both had as a client before. Mom took me over her knees and switched between spanking me and fingering me while he watched. I sucked him off while mom made out with him, made out with my mom with his cock between our lips, licked his balls as mom licked my ass, then let him fuck my ass while mom sat on my face. That was the first half hour. He came six more times before we passed out in the early hours of the morning, and I drifted off nursing his finally-limp cock in my mouth. He paid us the price of a used Volkswagen for our trouble, and I blew him one last time before we left as a thank-you.

Six months later, mom's teeth were fixed, I was on spiro, and we had just under a dozen clients for our "doubles sessions." Only a few of our appointments are ones with me and mom together, three or four a month, we mostly work alone. That's not out of a deliberate choice, it's just that we've got a strict criteria for who we'll double up on.

Trust is one thing: depending on the lawyers we can afford, what we're doing is either kinda illegal or extremely illegal. Since my dad is presumably still a judge, I don't want him to ever find out about this. He'd put us in a prison or a mental institution. We won't do a double session with a client unless we've both had individual sessions with them.

Money is the other thing. Getting your dick sucked by a hot mom while her daughter sucks your balls costs a week's wages for the average person. Hiring us for the night is more like a month's wages. Even in a city like this, there's only a few thousand people that can drop that kind of money on hookers. Then, they've got to *want* to fuck a trans girl and her mom together. Don't get me wrong, more people are into mother-daughter incest than you'd expect, but it's not a universal thing.

Clients are, on average, annoying. It's a fact of life. The thing that all clients have in common is a ton of disposable income and a fondness for fucking hookers. They're not necessarily bad people, but there’s a heavy ‘What can a banana cost, ten dollars?’ vibe to them. It’s not that they’re adrenochrome-drinkers who don’t see regular people as human, it’s more that they don’t have an intuitive awareness that other people don’t have savings accounts, health insurance, an investment property, and four figures of walking-around money at any given time. I guess I'd feel differently if I was like, a concierge or a PA, but there's a lot more pillow talk in my job.

I've had bad and dangerous clients before, there's been at least two occasions where I was pretty sure I was going to die--one where the hospital afterwards stay wiped out four months of income, not counting the month where I couldn’t work--but they were all before I met mom, when I couldn't be so careful about screening prospective clients and dropping them if they threw up red flags. I'm sure we'll get bad clients in the future, but we're in a better place to deal with them safely.

I also wanna write down what a "normal day" is like. Friday was a good example. I woke up early at 9am and cooked breakfast for mom. She was up already doing the laundry. We entertain some clients in our apartment, so we go through a lot of clothes and a lot of sheets. You can't fuck a guy on top of another guy's cum stains, that's rude. Some of the job is Housework But More. We don't really use the main bedroom or the sitting room because we treat them like bed and breakfast guest rooms. It's annoying but every time we have a session without getting an actual hotel or motel room we save like $50 minimum.

After breakfast I epilated, showered, and went for a run. Personal grooming isn't that big a deal in terms of time, I'm not saying I don't spend a lot of time on it, I do, but I'd be spending that time even if I worked in a bar or an office or something. Look: I'm hot. I might have been a weird-looking spotty nerd when I thought I was a boy, but as a girl I'm a fucking dime. I could get like, 25% uglier before it had any impact on my earnings. The only part of personal grooming that's necessary for sex work and I wouldn't do all the time anyway is power-washing my guts an hour before every session.

After lunch, mom went to see some friends and I played Magic for a few hours. At two pm, the actual work started. I picked up the work phone for the first time that day and began answering texts. An hour later I'd cancelled the 6pm appointment, blocked out all of Sunday evening, checked in with a few regulars, and provisionally moved three guys to the 'Time Wasters' list.

I spent a while sexting with a good prospect. He was a good prospect because he paid up-front for the sexting instead of treating it like a free samples platter at Costco. We scheduled a tentative appointment for next Tuesday, when his wife would be out of town on a business trip. Most of the guys I fuck have kinks, and I swear that 'cheating on your wife with a sex worker' is the most common one there is. Do I feel bad about it? At my hourly rate, absolutely not.

Mom got back at half four, so I took a break. We made tacos for lunch together and ate while watching Billions. She nudged me and told me that I need to do my injection, and, well, we have a little ritual for that. I'm scatterbrained and I'm not great with needles, but mom has been incredibly supportive with my HRT, and when I told her I was having problems taking them on time, she came up with a way to make me as comfortable as possible. As soon as the needle is ready, I laid down in her lap and she cradled my head in her arms, pressing her bare chest against my face. I took a nipple into my mouth and nursed it softly while she stroked my hair. She called me a good girl, telling me how proud she is of her daughter, how much she loves me, and asked if I was going to take my medicine like a big girl. On good days I inject myself while she pets me and coos over me, and on bad days she takes the needle and does it for me. As soon as I dropped the needle in the sharps container, mom pressed a Hitachi against my cock and took one of my nipples into her mouth, called me her big brave girl, and asked if I was gonna cum for mommy.

As usual, the answer was yes.

Late afternoon and early evening is when the messages start flowing in, especially on Fridays, when the kinds of people with hooker money have either left work early and thinking about getting laid, or are still held up at work and are desperately thinking about getting laid. This kind of messaging gets trickier, because it comes down to what I'm providing. Like, setting up a session is the kind of normal administrative stuff that's baked into the price of a session. It's also partly a sales job, so I'm naturally flirty and solicitous, and because I do sex work I talk openly about sex.

However, *sexting* is not normal administrative stuff. If I'm sending you messages for jerking-off purposes, I can charge by the hour or by the text but I will insist on charging for it. Also, it's not just sex that me and mom provide. There's a reason that 'companionship' is an old euphemism for whoring, it's because whores are good company. I'm a good listener and I don't judge, which means I'm like the fun parts of a therapist but without all the homework and self-improvement. I'm (unsurprisingly) friendly with all of my clients, and I have more than a few clients and former clients who I'd consider good friends and vice versa. I talk to a bunch of them outside of a business context, especially the ones I met outside of my job, and that's a normal part of maintaining a pool of clients for any sales job, but on the other hand... it's a demand on my time and it's a part of my services. I can and have bluntly told guys that they're wasting my time when it comes to uncompensated sexting, but the platonic stuff requires a lighter touch.

One of my regulars, Fintech Pete, sent me a message. Two messages later, he sent me $100, and we're off. Describing in gratuitous detail exactly how I'm going to suck his cock, begging him to fuck me until my clit is drooling all over the sheets, sending him feet pics, things of that nature. Pete is great for sexting because he barely jerks off while he's doing it, he saves all the messages and pictures and jerks off to them later, because he's got some biohacking routine where he only cums once a week. He said once that part of the reason he hires sex workers is that he takes each nut a lot more seriously if he's paying three digits minimum for the privilege. He does this teleconferencing report with the board of directors at his company four times a year, and every time he hires me to kneel under the desk in his home office and suck him off while he makes his presentation.

Anyway, while we were going back and forth like that, he mentioned that I'd made a joke one time about doing a joint session with my mom. I told him it wasn't a joke, and to cut a long story short, half an hour later I was asking mom if she was up for an overnight session starting at 9pm. She agreed, Pete confirmed, so we both got ready--think getting dolled up for a night out but with a more thorough enema--and drove to his place. He lived outside of town in a two-bedroom suburban home, alone with his two dogs.

As soon as we were parked in his garage I did the safety call in front of him: I rang a friend of mine, told her we were visiting a friend, told her it was at the address I sent her earlier, and told her we'd call her again tomorrow morning. Was it really necessary to do that with someone like Fintech Pete? No, but practice makes permanent. If you let these things slip when there's no danger, eventually they'll slip when there is danger.

Now, I don't want to imply that I'm in a lot of danger! There's a reason that most of the faces you'll see on the Trans Day of Remembrance are of poor black and brown women, because real danger comes when you can't turn skeevy jobs, when you can't afford to take precautions, when you have to make the choice over and over between maybe starving and maybe getting murdered. I'm white, I've got a good support network, and I've been relatively lucky in that I can do all these things to minimize my risks. I've still got to do them, though! Things like safety calls are a good habit to get into and it helps all sex workers if there's an expectation that they've all got someone looking out for them.

...I get that there is some bravado creeping into this journal. I start off saying that admin is the worst part of the job and a page later I flippantly mention that the job has put me in the hospital. On a day to day basis yeah, the admin is the bit that sucks the most, but if you offered me a deal where the admin is twice as bad but I never took that session, I’d take it in a heartbeat. This job has left me with some scars. Any time something cold touches my wrist I get a vivid flash of the first time I had my hands zip-tied behind my back in a cop car. I've had nightmares all my life, and more than a few of my nightmares are about stuff that's happened since I got into sex work.

If it seems like I’m downplaying it, it’s because the harrowing stuff is where the job has gone wrong, it’s not baked into the everyday stuff, and most importantly it has nothing to do with my mom. The work I've done with her is some of the least stressful and dangerous I've had since I started this job, and whatever wounds I have, she's not the one who caused them.

On a more positive note, a cool thing about doing sessions with my mom is that we can dress pretty conservatively and still have it come off as insanely lewd. Mom wore a black cocktail dress with an imitation pearl necklace and her hair up in a bun, I was in a white blouse under a lambswool sweater, a pleated short skirt, cheap dark tights--Pete has a thing for tearing them--and patent leather shoes. When you're going to suck a guy's world entirely off alongside your mom, the more modestly you're dressed, the more perverted it looks. Out in the suburbs it also means you get to avoid the microskirts and fishnets look which screams to the neighbors 'I've just hired a pair of hookers' or the mid-range raincoat over microskirts and fishnets look which screams 'I've just hired a pair of pricey hookers."

Pete's living room looks like the back room of a Radio Shack, computer guts everywhere, every surface turned into a makeshift workbench. It's not a suitable place for lovemaking; I don't want to have to pull shards of a soundcard out of my perineum. His bedroom is a lot neater, with a king-sized bed to sit on, a ton of pillows to lounge up against, and a TV mounted on the wall. Mom poured out some wine, a mid-range red zinfandel that we'd picked up on the way, Pete brought out some imported dark chocolate that costs like $40/kg, and I swung my legs over his lap and turned on the Food Network. I took a bite of chocolate, mom took a sip of wine, and before either of us swallowed she pulled me into a deep kiss, mixing the wine and the chocolate. It's a good combination, and Pete enjoyed the show.

The night started off with chatting. None of us were in any rush, not with an overnight session, and since Pete has been a client for each of us for a while it was a pretty relaxed atmosphere. Pete's fingers danced over my thighs, absent-mindedly plucking ladders into the fabric as we talked baseball, business, sex work, the difference between the gentrified fag bar downtown and the really gentrified fag bar downtown, programming and other nerd shit, local politics, the contestants on Cutthroat Kitchen, just normal stuff. Mom and Pete started talking about fancy cooking stuff so I started annoying them both by claiming that sardines are just fully-grown anchovies, that DOP labels are all fake, and that instant grits are better than the regular ones until mom jabbed me with a finger and told me that my mouth should be put to better use elsewhere.

You know how some people say "Cilantro tastes like soap, that's why it's good?" Same thing for how weird it feels to go down on my mom. The first time I ever jerked off, watching a 144p clip of Rocco Sifreddi fucking a girl in the ass while flushing her head down a toilet bowl, knowing that this meant I was going to go to Hell unless I begged God for forgiveness and never did it again, I came so hard I passed out. It feels good, it feels wrong that it feels so good, and it feels even better because it feels so wrong.

She was already wet when I got between her legs. I kissed her clit and started licking, her bush tickling my nose and her thighs squeezing my ears. Fabric rasped over my head as she hiked her dress up to run her hand through my hair. Everything was muffled but I could hear kissing and clinking, and I knew that mom was undoing Pete's belt and jeans to give him a Catholic-quality handjob.

I got mom worked up, bucking her hips and getting all breathy, until she asked me to get up here and give her some help. I crawled up to his groin and winked up at him. He blushed and grinned back. Pete's not a bad-looking guy. I mean, I don't care about looks in general, I guess I can look at someone and say that objectively they're ugly, and if someone is beautiful it adds something to the experience, but like... it doesn't really figure into it. Obviously most johns don't look like supermodels but they're not uniformly ugly, as I said before the thing that johns have in common is being horny guys with a lot of disposable income. Still, Pete is towards the better-looking side of that scale.

...Okay there is one thing about him that's weirdly common for my clients, I call it 'John Balding:' where a guy is losing his hair but in a slow, uneven, and kinda weird pattern, so that even when they cross into being more bald than not, they never bite the bullet and shave it all off. Pete is only like 30% of the way through that process so it doesn't look terrible yet, but he's on that track.

Anyway, back to the sex. A fun thing about double blowjobs is that you can take them a whole lot slower than solo blowjobs. Me and mom have had a lot of practice so we go at about 1/4th speed and it feels twice as good. She started off by wrapping her hand around the shaft, slowly stroking it while she softly kissed the tip, and I licked his balls, gently lapping at one, then the other, cleaning away the day's sweat and musk, carefully taking both of them into my mouth at once. Mom swallowed half his length, and I started kissing my way up his shaft as she pulled back up, my lips touching the head as hers reached the very tip. She grabbed me by my hair and pulled me into a deep French kiss with his cock in the middle, precum mixing with spit, moaning as we felt him twitch and grunt, mom's hand on his balls and my hand on his shaft. We broke the kiss and repeated it in reverse, taking his cock in my throat as mom kissed her way down to his balls. He came after five minutes of gentle little schoolgirl kisses on each side of his cock from the pair of us. The first rope caught mom on her cheek, the second hit her hair, but I wrapped my lips tight around the head and sucked him dry before he could spill another drop.

You can't give a client a mother-daughter blowjob and not snowball the cum back and forth in front of him. We've done it enough times to get the timing down: wait until he sits up straight, because if you don't he'll be too dazed from nutting in your mouth to really appreciate it. Make sure he's looking at you, move your hair out of the way so it doesn't obstruct his view, open your lips so that a trickle of jizz almost sloshes out, move in close to your mom so that your noses are touching and it's clear that you're about to kiss, sink a palm into her tits as she grabs your ass, and then you gotta really go for it: wide-mouthed, feral, energetic, like you're trying to reach each other's sinuses. If a little bit of cum spills out because you're being so sloppy, that's a sign that you're doing it right. You're going to lick it up afterwards anyway.

We broke the kiss, I licked mom's face clean, and we took a break. We drank some more wine, he offered us cigarettes--the coolest clients are the ones that let you smoke indoors--and we cuddled and relaxed for a while with Guy's Grocery Games playing on the TV. Pete went to get some water, and returned with three bottles and a strip of Cialis. He downed two pills, we both stripped off--it was sweltering by that point--and got ready for the next round.

Mom played with his nipples and I got between his legs again, this time going lower than his balls to eat his ass out. Rimming is a trusted client privilege like the mom-daughter stuff is, except it's less about trusting them in the legal sense and more about trusting that it won't be grainy down there. I like it when a client is clean enough to rim, because I'm extremely good at it. Mom says she's better, she claims she once made a guy no-touch cum with a rimjob, but I don't fucking believe her.

He got hard after a minute of digging my tongue into his ass, but his cock was still super-sensitive so we figured we'd tease him for a while longer. We swapped places, mom ate his ass while he made out with me, squeezing my tits and playing with my cock. I like it when guys touch my tits, my cock is... fine, I guess? I don't viscerally dislike people touching it but it doesn't do much for me. After a minute of that he reaches around and works a finger into my asshole, which is much more my speed.

By the time he was two knuckles deep I looked down and saw his cock twitching, leaking precum onto his stomach. He seemed pretty worked up. I kissed his neck, nipped at his ear, and whispered, "Do you wanna breed me, Mister?"

He sure did.

I use condoms unless I've got an extremely compelling reason not to, and mom has a cool trick for getting them on. She grasped Pete's cock around the base, placed her lips around the tip, deepthroated the entire thing in a single stroke, and as she slowly lifted her head back up, his cock was neatly fitted with a condom.

As soon as I lubed up he put me on my back, pushed my ankles up to my ears,  pressed his cock against my hole and sunk into me inch by inch. He muffled my moans with a kiss and rutted me into the bed. I gotta give it to him, all that biohacking and cardio is doing something right because he railed me at a fast, steady pace until my dick was leaking all over my tummy and I couldn't form sentences in my head any more. Mom made out with him as he finished, and at that point I was just babbling nonsense. He was gentle and cautious as he pulled out of me, stroking my hair as I reached down to take off his condom. I poured the contents out over my tits, slumping back against the headboard as mom licked them clean.

It wasn't yet midnight by then, and we went on like that through the night. Licking his feet, mom-daughter 69, him sucking my cock while mom rode his dick like a Sorority cowgirl champion, more wine, more double-blowjobs, tacking an extra $200 onto the fee for the privilege of pissing in my mouth instead of having to get up to go to the bathroom, a whole buffet of fun whore stuff.

We woke up at around ten in the morning, stayed for breakfast, then said our goodbyes. Me and mom thanked him for his custom, and he thanked us for a good time. By midday we were at home, we both showered, checked our calendars, messaged our evening clients to confirm that they were still on, and then... well, the rest of the day kinda evaporated. I played Demons' Souls until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, passed out in bed, and woke up when my alarm went off in the evening.

That's one of the things I don't like about overnight sessions: you're technically only spending like, ten to twelve hours with a client, and for some of that time you're either not fucking or actively asleep, but it kinda feels like it destroys two days. By the time it's scheduled, everything in the rest of the day is either preparing for it or doing it, and when you get back it takes the rest of the day just to recover. I don't like that part of my job, and if I sit down I can probably go through a whole bunch of things I don't like about my job. I still know that my job isn't a *bad* job, because the last time I had a bad job it was at a chicken processing plant. Know how I know that the chicken job was bad? Because I excused myself for a bathroom break four hours into the shift, walked off site, and never came back.

You know what, there's another reason I know that this isn't a bad job and that mom isn't a bad mom, and I guess it's part of the reason I've written all this down in the first place. I was seven years old when I first wanted to die. By the time I got to high school, suicidal thoughts were just the radio static in my brain. I can't remember any point after like, grade school where I didn't daydream about suicide every single day.

Now? I sometimes go for weeks without thinking about killing myself. It hasn't gone away completely, it still pops up when I'm upset or stressed out or tired or really hungry, but what I do is I talk to mom about it, and she talks me out of it. I feel guilty sometimes about putting that pressure on her, and taking that pressure off is part of the reason I'm going to therapy I guess.

I hope it works out.

I really think it will.

[hatsukeii]

hi hi, i have a levi scenario request! so, the reader is known to act on an instant, driven by intuition, which makes her valuable soldier. but when she meets her crush levi at night while they both can't sleep she just suddenly kisses him without thinking about whats driven her to do that. and idk, levi's just perplex but he didn't dislike it. dk how to wrap it up, so u can choose! i hope this is alright! :)

Yoo that’s acc a really good prompt thank you!

I’m naming the fic after a song and YOU CAN’T STOP ME-

Scrawny// Levi x reader

Word count: 1900+

Warnings: Mild swearing

Summary: Due to severe insomnia, you decide to wake your captain up and make him spar with you.

“Captain. Caaaaptainnnnnn. Leeeviiii. Levi Heichouuuu. Captain Leeeeeeevi-” An irritated grunt sounded from inside the room. “Name and business. Make it quick.” You gave yourself a little victory pump, an idiotic smile now plastered on your face. “(Y/N) sir! I need some help!” The door was whipped open by none other than your fuming captain, his permanent scowl looking extra pissed. “What in the actual name of hell are you doing here? It’s past midnight, get your ass back to bed, and out of my office.” The wooden door was slammed in your face, startling you a bit as you let out a yelp and jumped. You huffed out, pouting a bit as you placed an elbow on the door, continuing to knock relentlessly. “Heiiichouuuuu. Pleaaaaaase help meeeeee. Levi heichouuuuuuuuu. I can’t do it aloneeeee, it’d be pointlessssssss.”

How did you get into this situation?

Well.

You were initially going to stay put and just roll yourself to sleep, or at least try to. But the boredom became way too much for you to bear very quickly. Your mind debated between the sensible option, which was to just wait for the sun to rise, or to just get some training in. Specifically, get someone to spar with you. Everyone in your cabin was fast asleep at this ungodly hour, soft snores from the girls filling up the cozy space. You continued to toss and turn, forcing your eyes shut and trying to relax. You stayed still for about five minutes or so, before a loud snort resonated throughout the room, jolting you awake from your short lived peace. Groaning in annoyance, you glared towards the direction of the unwomanly sound, landing your eyes on Sasha, who was sound asleep in a weird position. It was already 1am. You had to wake at 5am. You weren’t about to get any sleep anytime soon. Insomnia’s an actual bitch. Following your thoughts, you practically rolled out of your bed, trying to comb down your terrifyingly disheveled hair, before changing into some workout clothes, slipping on your shoes, and waddling towards the office of one person you were certain would be awake at this time- Captain Levi. Everyone in the Corps knew of his terrible sleep schedule, so you were positive he was still awake and working. In addition to that, you would rather die than admit it to the other cadets, but you were completely whipped for Levi, so just getting any form of time alone with him would be a blessing to you. Even if it was just to spar.

“Heichou please help me, I can’t stand it any longerrrrrr, I’m gonna die of boredom, do you feel me Levi heichouuuu-” The door you were leaning on so comfortably swung open, catching you off guard. You started to fall, nothing around being useful in supporting you. All Levi did was walk out of the way and watch your tiny body fly towards the hard wooden floor. “Jesus brat, what the hell do you want from me?” You stood up rapidly, dusting yourself off, before scratching your head. “Can you spar with me?” Levi’s eyes widened, his mouth hanging open. “Are you serious right now?” You timidly nodded, chuckling dryly in a terrible attempt to alleviate the tense and awkward vibe of the situation. “(Y/L/N). You disturb me, at 1am, while I’m doing paperwork, to spar? Couldn’t this wait for tomorrow? Go back to sleep, this is an order.” He proceeded to walk back into his office, hand reaching out for the door handle. You laughed lightheartedly, keeping the door open with your foot. “Levi heichouuu, I’m sure you know how big of a bitch insomnia is, will you help a fellow poor sufferer out? Pretttty pleaaaase?” There was no way Levi was about to reject that request. How could he when you were acting so cute? Your whiny ass could melt even the coldest of people, himself included.

The minute you joined the Survey Corps, Levi already had his eyes on you. According to the information Shadis gave him, you were an extremely valuable asset when it came to scheming and fighting. Your intuition was like none other. It was impressive. Perhaps even more impressive than Sasha’s. During battle, your pure gut instincts have saved many soldiers. Most of them knew the name (Y/N) as the insanely accurate fortune teller. You knew exactly where titans would be, and how they would attack. That combined with your logic, made you an excellent tactician. What brought you down, were your physical skills. You were never the fittest person, often times collapsing after only five laps around the training area. You barely passed the ODM gear test, and almost broke a bone sparring with Connie. CONNIE. Since then, Levi has noticed you skipping dinner and training in your free time, whether it was just normal working out, or practising punches and kicks. He had initiated conversations with you before, usually starting off serious, but those talks usually turned into dumb arguments over questions like whether you could eat medicine with tea, or whether Eren was actually dysphoric. As months passed by, you became one of the few people that managed to get close to Levi. Although the captain may not show it, he had to admit, he has grown quite fond of you with time too.

“Good lord, fine, you scrawny ass brat. I’ll spar with you for an hour and an hour only. No buts. Consider yourself lucky I’m actually giving into your ridiculous request.” You beamed, jumping up and down like a child seeing a cotton candy machine, then crossing your arms over your chest, giving Levi a fake pout. “Thank you so much cap! For the record, I’m not scrawny!” He only grunted in response, letting you drag him to the training grounds. On the way, you sensed something off. No, scratch that, there was just a weird vibe. It was like something waiting to happen, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was exactly. You were skeptical for a bit, before you let it go and took it as sheer paranoia.

“(Y/L/N), you’re getting better.” You were completely drenched in sweat at this point, your muscles aching like crazy. You two had been sparring for about thirty minutes only, and somehow you were already worn out, whilst Levi was still completely fine, not a single drop of sweat evident. “C’mon cadet, you can do better than this. You asked me to spar with you, bring it.” You huffed out, panting like a thirsty dog, arms on your knees. “Yeah, hold on, just give me one second to just-” You took in a few deep breaths, before stretching your arms and legs, getting into a fighting stance again. “Okay, I think I’m all good captain.” Levi sent out a tiny smirk, charging towards you without warning. He sent a punch toward your jaw, missing by mere centimetres as you dodged it, grabbing his arm, knocking him off his feet, and throwing him to the ground. “Whooo! I finally won! Once!” You cheered a bit too early. Within seconds, you were flipped over again, the captain’s lean figure now hovering over you in a straddle. “Guard up until the opponent either passes out, dies, or surrenders. That’s rule number one of fighting. That was a pretty impressive throw though, I’ll give you that.” You sighed in defeat, tapping out quickly. “Seriously? You’re going to give up like that? That’s not the (Y/N) I know.” You thought about that for a second. “You know what captain? You’re right.” Smirking evilly, you got into a guard position, kicking your legs up to wrap around his chest as you rolled over, hovering over him in a mount.

Maybe you were dumb. Or maybe you were too immersed in the fight. But you didn’t realise how close you and Levi were until then. Your face burned multiple different shades of red as you went silent for a few moments, Levi staring at you in confusion. “Oi, what did I tell you about not being distracted during a fight?” He tried to shift into a better position, when your hand came down onto his collar. Should I do this? You were about to take a huge risk. Your brain was desperately trying to stop you from doing god knows what next. However your heart was throbbing, messing with your thought process. You felt that weird, tingly vibe in the air again, this time paying close attention to it instead of just ignoring it like the last time. Maybe this is the world’s way of telling me to do this thing? Is it? You pondered over the thought, staying as still as a statue. “(Y/F/N)? Did you listen to a word I said-”

You know what? To hell with your doubts and worries.

Grabbing the soft fabric of his shirt, you harshly pulled him towards you, attacking his lips with your own as you refused to let go, squeezing your own eyes shut. He was audibly shocked, giving out a tiny yelp as you continued to kiss him. His hair tickled your forehead, his breaths tickled your face, the fact that you were kissing your captain tickled every single little thing inside of you. For a few moments, you could hear your embarrassment buzzing in your own ears, before you finally pulled away, lowering Levi back down to the ground as you let go of his shirt. Your eyes widened at what you just did, your entire body going hot as you took your time to let the fact that you just kissed your hot, badass, midget captain sink in. Your hand went up to cover your mouth as you gave a muffled scream, getting off of him immediately and apologising profoundly. “U-uh I think that’s probably enough sparring for tonight, I’ll go see if I can go back to sleep now. Goodnight cap!” You screamed as you ran back to the cabin, completely flustered and feeling very hot. Slamming the cabin door close, you looked around, to see a tall figure sitting up from her bed, turning on a lamp. “(Y/N)...? What are you doing in workout clothes? And… why are you all red and sweaty?” You jumped, cursing a bit at Mikasa’s question as the other girls started to wake up from the noise that you made. “I- uh, it’s a long story….” Ymir smirked, before placing an arm on your shoulder. “Don’t worry. Get changed, and we’ll have all night to talk about it.” The other girls agreed, sending you evil looks as you grabbed your sleeping clothes and proceeded to clean up and change, your risky move from just now still circling your mind like a hive of annoying ass bees.

Meanwhile, Levi could not comprehend what the hell just happened. Did she just kiss me? He fixed his collar, which was now dirtied and wrinkled as he scrunched his nose at the disgraceful sight. “Tch, that brat, running away as if I would be on her ass for the rest of her life as a soldier after she did that.” He let his hand go up to touch his lips, seemingly fascinated by how he didn’t resist or anything. He was beyond confused. Never in a billion years did he expect to be kissed by someone in the military, let alone someone in his own squad. He tried to ignore his cheeks that were feeling warm as he dusted himself off, standing up and walking back to his office, mumbling to himself.

“Why’d you run away so quickly (Y/N)? I didn’t say I disliked that or anything.

Hoe hoe hoe I have finally finished this req! This was so fun to write oh lord I was laughing to myself-

This one goes into the short kings clan👑����

Hope you liked it anon🥺👉👈💕

Tags:

@burnt-tomato @lydzisanerd @bokutokoutarou @trashcanweeb @izzyphantomgamer @artsamber @ewfilthymundane @macaronnn @sunshines-and-tatertots @for-ests @inlwlevi

Idek why I can’t tag @ewfilthymundane but I’m soRry

[dirtybiowareconfessions]

Not a confession but are you guys okay? The admins, I mean. Your responses have been coming across as "tired and annoyed" for the last little while (as far as I can tell at least, maybe I'm just misunderstanding, sorry) and I am concerned for y'all and want to make sure you folks are doing alright ❤️ I love this blog btw!!

I’m, personally, bone deep tired.

There’s work to be done on all fronts, and it seems I haven’t stopped since February. But that’s none of you guys fault. It’s work and pandemic and family and uni and governmental issues and everything in between.

At least this, and tumblr in general, is a way to escape the current insanity of the world. And thanks, for checking in I mean.

- raven

Yeah. This quarantine has taken a toll on everyone.

I'm a bit stir-crazy too, because of the isolation. Also I can't get my sleeping meds, so insomnia has been kicking my ass - I get 2-4 hours of sleep per night at best. I'd go crazy if it wasn't for my cat keeping me company... heh, you know what they say... pussy gives you life 😏

For real though, even if I come across as, well, cross, I’m sorry. I want you to know that you guys remain a source of joy to us. Messages like this one always make us smile, and we genuinely do laugh at funny over-the-top confessions, you guys are the best. And of course everyone loves the hecking nice steamy stuff!

Hint: fine details are the spice of good smut 👌💦

Come to think of it, we haven't had a Kinky Sunday in a while because everyone is busy and/or tired... maybe we should have one this month to see if it lightens the mood.

-edi

[v01d-ch1ld]

Bad Always Becomes Worse in Gotham, and Worse Usually Turns into Dead

Author’s note: Yes. This is an official update. Yes, it did take forever. No, sadly, I am not dead. This chapter is part of an all-nighter writing binge. At this point, I have written this chapter three times and I hope I am satisfied this time. I am using the power of emo music and naps to keep sane right now because my personal life is #rough at the moment so this is going to be that edgy™ chapter where afterward September and some of my real-life friends are going to ask me about my mental health. (If you guys are reading this I’m fine just super sleep-deprived and sore because of work and insomnia and caffeine are taking their toll.) Lean back and enjoy the ride.

Warning! This chapter contains descriptions of violence, rape, mental health disorders, drug use, and death. Do not read if you are squeamish or under the age of 13. (If you are 12 and on Tumblr you have problems anyways.)

 Tonight was becoming a fickle thing. Jason was in desperate need of a plan. Bruce, four-time winner of Father of the Year, just took a victim to a mental asylum, like the warm and compassionate human being that he is. Nothing that had been done that night had really been her fault and it was nearing close to dawn. He was running out of time. If the sun rose and the Red Hood was still active he was toast. Then there was the lovely array of bullet wounds his ex-crush had given him. Jason didn’t know what to do. Becca had shot him and tried to kill him, he tried to kill her, saved her, tied her to a bedframe (ironically enough, the room she was tied up in used to be his when he lived at the manor), and then she broke free, shared a sob story, attacked his ex-employer, and then kissed him. That was a whole clusterfuck of mixed signals to be worked out with Roy, cigarettes, and about three bottles of scotch. Jason shook his head, he could focus on that later, he needed to call Kori so he could get his girl out of Arkham.

He hobbled out of the Batcave having left his hood, jacket, chest plates, one of his boots and his guns in the cave. He still had his own modified comlink on. That was something he never took off, and while he used the one installed in the HUD in his hood he kept one private one for his team on him at all times in case he felt the need to stray from Bruce’s morals and blow some fuck’s brains.

“Kori?” Jason quietly spoke into the com. The walls have ears in Wayne Manor. Those ears are named Timberly Jackass Drake and Damian “Demon Brat” Wayne. If they warn Bruce he’s sicking Kori and Artemis on him before he’s in a safe house then he’s fucked. Last time he deviated it took Red Hood out of commission for three months, he would be taking no such risks this time. He held his breath until he heard her respond.

“Hood, what is it? Are you okay?” Kori’s voice came through his earpiece clear as a bell. He let out his baited breath.

“Yes. I am at the manor. You need to come get me. I got hit a lot tonight.” Jason murmured, walking towards his old room like he is planning on resting.

“What happened? You Bats make dodging bullets look easy.” Kori teased but Jason heard the underlying concern. She was always so caring, even heartbroken. (Dick was a moron. End of story.)

“I was up against a sharpshooter. A familiar face. Remember when I told you about the girl that I lost?”

“Your beloved? But I thought she died.” He had told Kori that he loved her as much as she loved Dick. It wasn’t far off but he was pretty sure he loved his girl more. He smiled at that.

“It seems that she and I have that in common. Listen she’s in bad shape. We all know the kind of damage that the Joker can do. He made her a criminal and Bruce is taking her to Arkham. We need to intercept him and get her out of their hold and hide her so that maybe I can get her help. Crazy as she has been made to be she still listens to me.”

“Jason. Is this really the right call? She is unstable. She could be dangerous. Who knows how the Joker could have brainwashed her? You remember his mind tricks.” Kori’s voice is gentle like she understands the true bite of her words. Jason frowns because, yes, he does remember and she does have a valid point.

“I’m sure. Make sure we keep her in one of our more secure safehouses. Send Artemis and when you drop me off at the house, join her because she will need reinforcements no matter how much she protests.” Jason grunts as he lies down in the bed he had tied his friend to. He can’t get past that. Becca, his babydoll, was turned into the Jester. A shell.

“Okay, I will be there in a few minutes. I had to wrap something up.” She hangs up tersely.  Translation: I was beating the fuck out of the gang lord I have been chasing and had to end it early because of your needy ass. Fuck it. He could deal with spoiling her fun later. He needed Becca safe.

 04:07 GCPD Headquarters, Gotham City

 Batman dragged the fighting and kicking Jester, though gagged and hogtied, into the police station. They had a cell waiting. He had removed her shoes because the wedge heel had been most unpleasant when hitting him in the ribs. Now she was still kicking him but through the Kevlar and titanium plates, he could hardly feel a thing. He had to used cord from his grapple to tie her up because the cuffs had been jimmied, the zip ties bitten off (hence, where the gag came in), and the rope broken with her enhanced strength. The weaved titanium of his grapple line would withstand her strength and tied the way he tied it would not come undone but only get tighter as she struggled.

                 Jim Gordon stood in the lobby of the building staring at the girl with a hard stare. He walks over and removed her gag.

               “I want to know if there is any hope in saving you.” Of course, he did. Becca was friends with Barbra. Like Bruce, he had become a father to her. Jester looked up at him and bared each one of her teeth showing how her canine teeth have been slightly elongated and filed to sharp points, no wonder she had bitten through the zip ties.

               “Men like you are the reason that people like me exist, to show the world that there is no hope.” She grins, “How’s Babs doing lately? Still can’t walk after all that physical therapy?” After that Batman, no Bruce, punched her in the stomach and Jester has the nerve to laugh.

               Looking back on her father’s lessons, she laughs the way she was taught to laugh to inspire fear. Slowly and quietly chuckling, smirking and then picking up the volume gradually until the sound of her insanity bounced off the walls. Sneaking a look around she saw some of the officers look at her in horror. Gordon looked disheartened, Bruce was stoic.

               “Take her to the holding cell and keep her tied up on the floor. And take the cot out,” Gordon barks to his men who respond with a shaky “yes sir” and cautiously approach the Jester, who is still doing her father proud, laughing up a storm. “The transfer truck should be here in an hour, we’ll take it from here.” He said to the Bat, who grunted his response and was gone in the time it took the commissioner to blink.

               Shaking his head, Gordon watched as the drug a still laughing Jester to the area where her mugshot would be taken. He sighed, he never likes watching kids go through the process of being entered into the system.

                 04:47 a holding cell inside of Gotham City Police Headquarters

               Lying on the floor of the cell Jester wanted to kill someone. Her arms were stretched uncomfortably, and her feet were numb, and she was cold. She supposed that she should also be in pain. For once she was glad that she couldn’t feel those sensations anymore. How long were they going to keep her waiting? Did she have to break out of here and WALK to the Asylum? She began to try to twist her wrists only to stop when she felt blood running down her arms. Great, now she was bleeding more than before. Jason may be on the wrong side of the law for her right now, but he was a great shot she had to admit. Almost as good as her teacher. Speaking of which, she still had to thank Floyd for giving her the custom pistols that are now locked up in evidence. Fuck she had to get those back those meant something to her dammit!

               Rolling over, she looked through the tiny ass window that they give the jailbirds to taunt them with their freedom. Arching, her back she grabs the knife that she stole from her charming new boy-toy and prayed that it was the right knife. She began to test the blade against the wire and it cut. She almost screamed in joy but remembered that she was in a police station and it was only so long before one of the officers found out that she had escaped her bonds. Once she did, however, she wasted no time in breaking the lock with a combination of the knife and her doctored strength.

               Near instantly the alarms started going off and the hallway was flooded with officers. I guess now would be the time to garner that plan to get her guns back. She started in on her prey with deadly efficiency. Taking one arm and immediately dislocating his shoulder and grabbing his gun while using him as a human shield from the first volley of bullets. Taking measured shots, she used the six-shot magazine to take out the best shots. Once they were down and she knew that she had better odds of dodging bullets she picked up one of the guns that had skittered across the now blood-stained floor and set to work. She shot the ones on point first as they were getting a little close, dropped a leg on some guy who was trying to grab her, caught his gun as he fell and shot him in the head. A dark-haired female officer cussed in Spanish as she walked into the room grabbing her gun from her shoulder holster. Electric green eyes snapped to her and she was shot in the right shoulder in an instant, the gun falling out of her hand. Turning and shooting three more men who were coming from behind she takes the top off the gun and jams it into another officer’s throat picking up two pistols she shot down another cop who had walked in before he could cock his shotgun. Blood now covered some of the walls in an indiscriminate pattern.

               “IIIIIIIII S-SHOULD HAVE WARNED YOOOOOOOOU!” Jester screams before she begins to cackle like the hellcat she is. Rushing the last few men, she slides through the pooling blood in the hall toward the now open shotgun. Picking it up, crouching, and cocking in a swift move she fires blowing one man about a yard back and scattering his insides all over part of one of the walls and the floor. Loading and spin cocking the gun Terminator-style, she proceeds to dispatch a few more policemen before she strolls out of the hall with five guns strapped to her and 6 more shotgun cartridges. More cops stand in front of her as she starts a bloodbath.

 Meanwhile

05:04 Gotham City Police Headquarters

 Jason Todd didn’t know what to think, but the Red Hood was already unholstering his pistols by the time he got inside the building. Once he got inside though, even the Red Hood froze. His babydoll was straight-up murdering the police. They stood no chance. Granted, he himself is capable of doing what she is doing right now but he had never had the cause. He never simply decided that he was going to murder an entire police station, but here she was doing exactly that. Gordon was returning fire with his revolver from behind an upturned desk, several other officers were taking a page from his book and using desks as shields too. The Jester was also behind a desk, more visible from his angle and using some complicated gun tricks and a mirror to further up her kill count.

               “By the Gods,” gasped Artemis from behind him to his left. She was right. This was almost Ares-level carnage. He almost turned around to alter the plan he set up somewhat when Jester made a move.

               Rushing to the right and into a smaller hallway off the room she shoots two more officers in the head and breaks into the room at the end of the small hallway. The police share a collective curse, still not having noticed the Outlaws in their headquarters. That room was evidence and weapons lock up. Guns from every recent arrest in the city were stored there. Now she had an arsenal.

               Arsenal, Jason’s best friend not thing that Jester was currently drooling over behind the doors of evidence lock-up, spoke up in Jason’s com right then: “Hey buddy? Need some help?” he offers coolly. Jason knows for a fact that this is now being televised and that his time was now super limited.

               “I am so glad to hear from you right now. Yes, I need you to find me the closest and most secure safehouse you can.” Jason was not about to tell his friend to come here. Not when he was still recovering from Slade kicking his bowed behind to Bludhaven and back. Roy lets out a curse, most likely due to not being invited to the fun.

               “Fuck you always know how to dampen my hopes, man. Alright. I’ll give you a location in 15 minutes.”

               “You have five, Hood out.”

 BOOM!

“Oh fuck! What’s happening now?!” one of the officers shouts. That came from evidence. Everybody’s head turns to see grenades coming out of lock-up. Shit. Artemis tackled him behind the desk closest to the Commissioner’s office. Starfire had dived the opposite direction with two other officers behind one of the vending machines that had been flipped sideways. The detonation killed one more officer leaving only the Outlaws, two detectives, Gordon alive. Jester took this opportunity, her pistols, and a machine gun and broke for the exit, spreading the ammo from the gun so that no one could shoot back at her. Once on the street, she booked it.

Jason cursed. Out of his grasp again.

 Batman was going to be pissed.

  19:00 Dock 19 Gotham City Harbor

Jester crawled out of the shadows to a familiar warehouse. One of the many lairs her father had and where she was to report if she ever got caught. Not even Batsy knew about this one. She walked inside with her head held low out of exhaustion. She had been careful not to be seen all day. But now that darkness had fallen she longed for a joint and her bed. Walking in past the lookouts who were very surprised to be seeing her so soon after she got caught by the Bats, she stumbled upon Ivy and Harley having date night on the couch. Gross. Choking down bile, she drags herself into her area she flops down onto a pile of beanbags and begins to grind.

Her head was spinning with adrenaline and stress and her hands shook when she opened her grinder. Taking out her jar of weed that Ivy, one of the secret villain stoners, had grown specifically for her. It was basically really strong Sherbet Indica times about twenty. She is just about done grinding when she finally gets noticed.

“Ah, look what the cat dragged in.” Harley teased while she was in Ivy’s arms. Ivy looked down on her with disapproval, Harley ignored her as always. She really needed to start learning that being a brat would only get you into trouble with the doms she hung out with. Rolling her eyes Jester decided to ignore her. But that never worked with Harley Quinn the bitch would only try harder. “I’m surprised your new boy-toy doesn’t have you tied up.”

“Oh, he did Harl and guess what? I can defiantly say that it was better than any action you’ve gotten from a guy lately.” Nodding her respect for Pam. That bitch’s tongue could solve world peace if used applicably and almost every female villain knew it. Jester included after one night of a lot of rough flirting. It took a lot of gin, but the look on Harley’s face was worth it.

“Like you would know? You’ve only had sex like what three times? And two of them were MY sloppy seconds!” she squeaked indignantly. Jester had to admit that stung. Joker had raped her twice shortly after her arrival in his custody. While the act had only lasted less than half an hour each time, the pain and the mental scarring had been debilitating for weeks. It was something for which not even Jester could forgive him.

“At least I’ve never had chlamydia!” Jester flung back at her, rolling her joint deceptively calm.

“You little skank! I’ve never had chlamydia!” Harley yelled just a little too loudly for it to be true. Pamela looked at her in a very motherly way. Tired of our shit.

“Yeah that’s why you had to put on that fugly looking brunette wig, so you could go to the free clinic last month. Remember me laughing at you after I drove you there?” Jester said smirking evilly from her rolling tray.

“I-I, you little-“ Harley was cut off by the booming rage of the Joker.

“JESTER COME HERE NOW!” and with that, Harley was sent into fits of glee, laughing so hard she fell off the couch.

“Y-you a-are in so much trouble.” She panted between giggling fits.

Jester rolled her eyes, took her joint, lit it, dragged, and puffed the smoke at Harley and ashed it on her while she was rolling on the floor with tears in her eyes laughing. She yelped when the hot ash burned her stomach. Jester snarled at her as she walked past Harley and Ivy and up the stairs that led to the upstairs part of the warehouse where her father was waiting.

“What happened!?” he yelled, spittle going everywhere.

“First, say it don’t spray it,” that earned her a hard slap, “Second, I ran into some unforeseen circumstances.” She shrugged and dragged her joint. That was all there was to say on the matter. She was not about to tell “I have killed people for looking at my daughter wrong” that she had reconnected with her old crush. Like hell.

“Oh, really? And what exactly were those unforeseen circumstances?” He was pissed now. It was all in the narrowing of his eyes, the intensity of their chemical glow, the twist of his smile. He rested his head on his hands with his eyes half-lidded. That was usually when people started to decorate the walls.

“A rather rambunctious and familiar pain in my ass by the name of Red Hood.” That was a double touch on her part cleverly disguised as a dig on the bat family.

“I see. Make sure our little failed boy blunder doesn’t ruin any other parties we have in the future due to your incompetence. Understand?” he’s sneering at this point.

“Understood.”

 “Just wait until you hear my plan for our next party, Daddy! I promise you will have the time of your life!”

 “I had better.”

 The smoke carried on into the shadows and dissipated.

@schweeeppess @dcuniverse-fanatic @dc-hoe @ravennightingaleandavatempus

[blehbleehhhh]

I’m Sorry ft. Eremika <3

A lovely reader requested a smut piece based on what Eren said to Mikasa in chapter 112!This is my interpretation. I hope this is what you were looking for, lol. So challenging to write for me because it has to be the most detailed so far, but really fun to write as well. Cheers x

NOTE: DOES NOT TAKE PLACE IN CANON VERSE BUT IT IS INSPIRED BY THAT HEARTBREAKING CONVERSATION.

Thank you for your suggestion!

Gentle was the rain outside of Mikasa's window, yet she continued to struggle with her annoyingly persistent insomnia in spite of a sound she usually finds to be reassuring. Come to think of it, shit really started to hit the fan months ago when someone she holds in the highest regard started to shut her out of his life. It's not like she didn't see him, though, since they still have a couple of classes together, but not hearing his voice is driving her absolutely insane. Perhaps she could try texting him? Sighing deeply, she blindly reached for her phone, buried somewhere in her bed amongst the pillows and blankets.

Mikasa 2:45am: hey. i don't know if you're even awake. but i can't take this silence anymore.

Though her heart began to beat faster, she kept their conversation open and set her phone beside her, waiting anxiously for a response. To say that she didn't miss him would be a lie, just like saying that receiving a response from him, no matter how long it felt like it took, immediately brought tears of happiness to her eyes would be a gargantuan understatement. She sat up in bed and grinned as she used her fingers to push all of her silky, black hair to one side.

Eren 3:28am: I'll be over in 5 minutes.

“Shitshitshitshitshit!" Mikasa mumbled frantically under her breath and hurried out of bed for the main living area of her apartment, where she slowly paced in front of the door in trepidation; alternating between chewing on her nails and looking through the peephole out into the hallway. She leaned back against the door's cold surface in an attempt to slow her racing heart, because it feels as if she's running a marathon. What if he just talks down to her again, degrading any achievements she's made by implying they hadn't been earned honestly?

A sudden knock at the door made her jump, sending her stomach further into a pit of anxiety and despair as she promptly turned around to check the peephole. Taking in a deep breath, Mikasa's shaky hand undid the locks and cautiously opened the door to reveal a man who pulls off the 'disheveled' look so well that she felt a burn of need in her womb. Eren's hair had grown longer, and she figured that it would come to his shoulders if it weren't tied back in a low bun. God, does he look exhausted. Burnt out. He won't even look at her, instead gluing his eyes on her shoulder because, how could he look at her again after what has happened? After getting in a fight with Armin, who was doing nothing more than defending her when he'd clocked Eren in the jaw, not that he didn't deserve it. Though Eren was already slowly phasing out his friends, Mikasa and Armin were completely cut from his life without any sort of explanation, even though both of them had a feeling that he was doing such a thing for a reason. But that doesn't mean what he said to her didn't hurt, and cutting her from his life hurt her to her core. She's broken.

"Uh, hey. You actually-"

"What do you want?"

"W-well, I-I.." Mikasa stuttered and let out a surprised gasp when he pushed passed her to get into the apartment and closed the door behind him. It was clear from his body language that he was already a little more than irritated. "I-I just..."

"You just what?"

"I-I'm-"

"For fucks sake, Mikasa! Spit it out!" He snarled, finally letting his guard down enough to look into the eyes he's so desperately tried to avoid and saw exactly what he'd expected: heartache. Agonizing, traumatic, heartache that he is responsible for. As far as Eren has always been concerned, all he has ever done is cause her pain, when this is the exact opposite of his intentions. "Eh?!" In a fraction of a second, those expressive, charcoal pools that were blinking back tears were now filled with rage as she threw her arms over her head in exasperation.

"Why? Why did you lie to my face about never giving a damn about me?"

"I did that for your own good."

"My...?" she pointed at herself, letting out a rugged breath and a quiet chuckle. "My own good? Do you have-" her words were interrupted with an uncontrollable sharp inhale before her voice cracked. "Any idea how much you hurt me? Or do you just not care about me anymore?" Mikasa's heart sunk from her words and, little did she know, so did his. Watching her fight back tears, the sound of her voice going up an octave whenever she's so upset has always been more than he can handle.

Especially when it's his fault.

"I don't care." Eren growled under his breath, maintaining a stoic expression, watching her shoulders rise and fall like one's do when soothing themselves from bursting into tears. But the sight of her walking up to him admittedly sent his stomach into flips, at least until she slapped him across the face. Hard. "What the fuck!?" his brows knit together, maneuvering his jaw until there was a pop.

"You don't get it do you? I-I.."

"WHAT?! YOU WHAT?!"

"I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU!" Charcoal grays were filled with tears of rage and frustration, and she balled her hands into fists at her sides before attempting to raise one for his gut. But he was already way ahead of her, quickly catching them in his hands mid punch before pushing her up against the wall and pinning her arms above her head, his eyes now filled with anger.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I was being a jackass for a good reason? I'm trying to protect you!"

"What the hell are you talking about?! Protect me from what?!"

"Christ's sake! Me! From me! All I have ever done is hurt you and I'm sick..." he trailed off, squeezing her wrists tighter in each hand as he got so close to her face that he could feel the breaths from her parted lips. "...of you fucking babying me. I'm sick of snapping at you because I'm not strong enough to protect you, and I'm sick of hurting you."

"So your brilliant solution was to obliterate any shred of morale or hope I had left, Eren? Well, it worked. I've never been the same. And all of this agony is because-" she sucked in another sharp inhale involuntarily because her resolve is slowly starting to crumble. "-of you. How could you!?!"

"You don't think I know that already?! All I have ever done is hurt you, Mikasa!"

"That's bullshit, Eren!" Swallowing hard, she held her breath when his forehead gently bumped into hers.

"I've been such a fool."

"No.."

"No what?"

"Don't do this..." Her voice was soft, almost hoarse from fighting back tears. "Please don't pretend like you care and fuck with my heart even more."

"What makes you think I'm pretending to fucking care?!"

"YOU WERE JUST YELLING AT ME!" Mikasa cried, screaming into his face as tears finally poured from her tired, defeated eyes. Her body trembled from rage and fatigue as she allowed herself to come unglued. The raven's heart beat faster, because through her tears she's realized that his lips were slowly, so timidly closing in on hers, and she almost fainted from the overwhelming rush of conflicting emotions. No, please yes, no, finally, no...

"Mikasa..." he breathed to her lips. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I let my feelings cloud my judgement and consume me," his stomach twisted, allowing himself to sink deeper into a place he was certain he wouldn't return from. But Eren's so damn tired of running from the feelings he has for her. "I'm a fucking idiot."

"W-what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?!" Eren hissed under his breath, observing the way her bottom lip quivered before briefly pursing them together. How could he have treated this woman, the woman who has been with him through so much bullshit to count, with so much misplaced anger and frustration that he had willingly immersed himself in? It wasn't even worth all of the heartache he'd not only caused for her, but for himself as well. He’s ashamed.

Suddenly, he stunned her with a very, very gentle kiss she fought like hell not to melt from, because his lips are softer than she could've dreamed, and because she enjoyed the prickly nature of his stubble that briefly itched below her nose. But she couldn't shake the fear that his sudden affections are derived from nothing more than pity, especially when such affections stopped just as quickly. She took this opportunity to study his face, how tightly he's shut his eyes told her that he wasn't even planning this at all and is equally as surprised as she is. Eren knit his eyebrows together and opened his eyes to her teary eyed, inquisitive gaze, silently kicking himself for being so incredibly selfish. Because he's taken this long to act on his emotions. Because he knows this entire situation could have been avoided if he'd just been honest with her from the beginning. Emerald greens gazed deeply into glistening charcoal blues, searching for any sign of hesitation, only to find that there are none. Neither knew how long they stayed like this nor did they care, especially having noticed the others gaze had softened considerably. And as she watched his demeanor soften even more, her decision to give in to any long suppressed desires had already been made.

Perhaps that's why she so eagerly returned his kiss when he fiercely attacked her lips and sighed a soft moan into his mouth, frantically tugging down with her arms in attempt to release her wrists from their prisons. But he set her free, and immediately caught her in his strong arms when she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. This is it. This is exactly what she has always, always wanted. If the feeling of his hands squeezing her ass told her anything, it's that those feelings were most definitely mutual.

It didn't take long for Eren to find his way into the bedroom where he could, at long last, demonstrate how willing and prepared he is to help her heal from the pain that he's caused. Because Eren is aware how imperative it is to tell her he truly loves her and has for so many years, but he's not emotionally prepared to spill his guts at the moment, mostly because this isn't about him, it's about Mikasa. The girl he wasn't completely aware how intense those feelings of utter adoration were even for until 10 minutes ago when they shared their first kiss. The girl who has him completely drunk on her because he's finally let her in, laying on top of the body that he's gingerly laid on her bed. Mikasa slowly brought her hand to the back of his head and rested the other on his side, using her legs to press his increasingly rigid member to her clothed heat. He groaned into her mouth as he pulled away, his nose slowly gliding alongside hers. "I'm sorry." Gently setting one of his hands on her cheek, he wiped away any new tears that have fallen from her eyes. "I'll never do anything like that to you again..."

"I..." He cut her off with his lips, kicking himself even more when he tasted the saltiness of her tears with his tongue.

'StupidstupidstupidSTUPID'

"I'm so fucking sorry." His lips passionately went after hers once more, so much so that their teeth occasionally clashed into one another. More of her tears mixed in with their sloppy kisses as she rushed to pull his shirt over his head, breaking the bond between their lips, but not for a poor cause, no; much to her pleasure, he dove his lips into her neck and savored the taste of her skin. She gasped softly, slowly grinding against the hard bulge pressing into her.

Hands slowly hike a baggy, oversized night shirt up a body they've itched to caress on many occasions. Mikasa moaned in response as she arched her back to let him uncover something he's never seen before, at least on her, and my god was it a pleasure. He gently pulled her shirt over her head and looked into her eyes, now displaying nothing but pure lust. "You're so beautiful, Mikasa." he whispered, slowly gliding his hands up her warm, smooth skin, allowing his fingers to curve around her breasts. "Are you positive that you want to do this? Because I can't promise that I'll be gentle," she blushed at his words and offered a tiny smile. "Then I won't hold back anymore."

In that next instant, his face was buried between her breasts, nipping and kissing her skin. She let out a most intoxicating, pleasurable cry as his lips trailed down her body, arching her back to enable the removal of her shorts. The overwhelming warmth that's been building up since he pinned her to the wall came to a head when Eren's lips softly kissed her stomach and her inner thighs, licking the spot where her hips meet her thighs. "I should have guessed that you're a tease..." She felt a warm throb between her legs when his lips smirked against her skin, rubbing his fingers over the growing damp spot in her panties. Eren gently pushed the heel of his palm on her arousal and rubbed vigorously, sending Mikasa's hips up with trembling legs as she breathed a moan. He quickly pulled the soaked article of clothing down her legs and slipped his arms under her thighs to bring her closer.

Eren let out a low, animalistic, guttural groan as he used his fingers to gently pry her apart and went in for the kill, licking, nipping, and french kissing the dripping arousal before him. Whatever cold, dark feelings they had before this moment have now melted away with the sounds of her breathy, inconsistent moans, mumblings of his name and his lips colliding with her skin to create that addictive smack. When she started to squirm, her voice increased in pitch with every moan and when she raised her hips, he immediately slammed them down into the bed with his arms, lapping at the wetness between her legs. "Oh, yes!" Inside she was on fire, shuddering from the pleasure of his tongue tickling her insides. Though there wasn't a plan on either side when he agreed to see her, sex certainly didn't come to mind when he'd showed up at her door. In fact, this is the last thing they expected to occur. But there are no regrets, not tonight, not in this bed. Not with all of these years of pent-up sexual tension to release. "Erenn...mmm...I need you inside of me..." With his tongue pressed flat against her pussy, he shook his head back and forth, and she clenched her thighs around his head, because he's taken her over the edge and dropped her into a sea of intense, radiating pleasure. She released him and he kissed up her warm, sweaty skin.

"Do you now?" He breathed in her ear as she fumbled with his belt, letting out an impatient sigh and knitting her eyebrows together. "Was it so good that you've forgotten how to unbuckle a belt?" Then, the most beautiful thing happened, she grinned and giggled and it was intoxicating. Eren licked his lips to clean off whatever is left from her and was immediately rewarded with the softest lips he's ever kissed, and they followed him as he sat up on his knees to unbuckle his belt. Her fingers lightly traced the ridges and lines of his abs, sending a shiver down his spine that made him want to move faster. Her fingers hooked inside his trousers as he unfastened the button and fly, giving them a tug that left them at his knees for him to kick off his legs, letting them drop quietly on the carpeted floor. Mikasa slowly brought her hand down to his boxers and slid it underneath, gently caressing his cock with her fingers as the other worked to remove that pesky barrier. Eren groaned into her mouth and tore off his boxers, wrapping an arm around her waist as he pulled her onto his lap. "Hey," his heart fluttered when she wrapped her arms around his neck and her body pressed up against him. "I love you too, you know, like that." She sat up and reached underneath to adjust his cock, slowly sinking back down with a soft moan, never once breaking their mutually lustful gaze until he leaned in and kissed her. He tasted the saltiness of her tears on his tongue and held her tighter, because she's still too far away from him, and he from her. They kiss like they need each other to breathe as she begins to stir her hips and moaning softly into his mouth, sliding her hands up into his hair as their lips glided together. She let out a muffled chuckle into their kiss when he flipped her on her back and started thrusting into her. He slowly pulled away and buried his face in her neck, groaning and grunting because she just feels so good.

There are no worries or pain, just the two of them finally giving in to temptation after all these years of fighting them off, relishing in the sounds of their sweet lovemaking. Moaning with every thrust, she arched herself into him and clawed at his back. "Oh, Eren, don't stop!" Suddenly, he picked up his pace and suckled on her neck, desperately trying not to cum as the walls of her pussy contracted around him. She came with a cry and smiled when their lips met, sighing happily into his mouth as they slowed their thrusts. But then he took off again, this time so fast she tore her lips away and saw stars - perfect depth, perfect angle. "Eren! Eren! Eren!" She whimpered, trembling beneath him as they came together and looked up into his eyes. And suddenly, everything made sense to him. He planted a kiss on her lips just to confirm that this wasn’t a dream, and he won’t wake up in his bed drenched with sweat. From the way she nibbled on his bottom lip, to the way she kissed his neck, or the way she looks up into his eyes, it didn’t matter, because he was fucking hooked. “God, I love you.” he whispered without thinking twice this time, gently dusting any hairs stuck on her skin away from her face. Once more, those beautiful eyes filled up with tears, except this time he knows they aren’t due to anything that transpired in the living room, but because she’s happy. Really, truly happy.

“I love you too. Wow,” She smiled and chuckled softly. “I never thought I’d get to say that to your face and it feels amazing.” Eren pulling out made them both shudder as he dropped down beside her on his back.

“Why do you forgive me so easily?”

“Because all I ever needed was for you to apologize. I knew you meant it.”

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, beat the shit out of me or something? I feel like you’re letting me off to easy.”

“No,” Mikasa giggled. “What good would that do, Eren? It already happened. Besides,” rolling onto her other side, she curled up into his body and nuzzled his neck. “All I wanted was for you to come back to me.”

“Trust me, baby,” He smiled, lightly rubbing her hip with his thumb. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

Even numbers :}

THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU CRAZY KIDDO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND YOU’RE A BLESSING ON THIS WORLD!!!!!!

2: is your room messy or clean?

It’s kind of a mix?? Like I leave my clothes folded on top of the drawers rather than putting them away bc the drawers stick and it’s just easier access. The messiest thing about my room is that I’m a human magpie who likes collecting shiny/interesting things so I have a lot of stones and bits of metal or ceramic and some nuts and bolts lying around pffft. XD But mostly I keep things kinda tidy.

4: do you like your name? why?

I DO NOW!!!! :DDDDD

6: describe your personality in 3 words or less

uUUUuuHHHHHh well-meaning, stubborn, energetic! :D

8: what kind of car do you drive? color?

I currently drive my parents’ car. It’s dark grey… not gonna say what model. XD

10: how would you describe your style?

Like, clothes wise? Either very simple n plain or outrageously colourful n quirky. Depends on the day. XD

12: what size bed do you have?

Double.

14: if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

Oof honestly just back home (in Victoria.) A part of me also wants to try out a big city?? I’ve always lived in the country and tbh I kind of hate big cities because they seem to be filled with rude busy people but I wanna live there just to have something different and so I’ll know for sure and to say I did, y’know? (lmao a friend and I joke that we’re gonna move to NYC together one day, so she can keep my li’l naive country boi ass from getting chewed up and spat out by New Yorkers. I appreciate it. X’D )

16: favorite makeup brand(s)

No idea. I’ve only worn makeup twice, and those times were when my Mum begged me for a solid year until I finally caved and let her do it… grumpily. X’D

18: favorite tv show?

S E N S E 8

20: how tall are you?

5′4. :)

22: do you go to the gym? 

Nope, not enough money. I used to work out a lot at home and I got p ripped but because of my eating disorder I had to stop. Still haven’t started up again yet. :(

24: how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

21 bucks. :D

26: how many pillows do you sleep with?

2. One under my head and one to cuddle (shut up, I kNow. XD )

28: how many friends do you have?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯  too lazy to count, however many people I interact with online. I don’t have any irl friends… god that sounds pathetic. XD

30: whats your favorite candle scent?

Absolutely no idea, we never have any. That’s actually something I wanna change when I get my own place. I like candles. They calm me.

32: 3 favorite girl names

God I am so shitty with names. My characters either name themselves or they don’t get names. X’D UUUUUUUUHHHHH, Amber, Ida, Carmen??? idk???

34: favorite actress?

Emma Thompson is an actual fucking legend and I would go to battle for her.

36: favorite movie?

How to Train Your Dragon or Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse! :D (If it has to be live action: Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. :P )

38: money or brains? 

Heart.

40: how many times have you been to the hospital?

For myself, personally? Lots when I was a baby bc I had chronic ear infections and would literally just scream 24/7 and never sleep, I was in so much pain (poor tiny Matt. :(((( ) Once because I had a really bad migraine around age 13 that literally would not go away and had me throwing up every other minute and in such bad pain I wanted to literally die. And once recently when I felt super sick for months and months and finally went only to find there was nothing wrong with me?? turned out it was my gluten intolerance but dear god I had never felt that sick.

42: do you take any medications daily?

Just my asthma preventer (and I forget to take that a lot and end up not being able to breathe as well as I should, bc I’m the World’s Biggest Dumbass :)) XD )

44: what is your biggest fear? 

Physically: Not being able to breathe. Emotionally: The people I love ending up hating me just because I’m me. There’s a lot of irony to unpack there but I’m just gonna set the whole suitcase on fire. :)

46: whats your go to hair style?

Shaving the whole damn thing off.

48: who is your role model? 

I don’t really have one?? I guess my parents?? But I don’t really wanna be exactly like them either? I think it’s unwise to put anyone on a pedestal bc nobody’s perfect.

50: what was the last text you sent?

Screaming to a friend about how cute her OC is. XD

52: what is your dream car?

Literally could not care less so long as it gets me where I’m going and it’s neon yellow. X’D

54: do you go to college? 

Nope, dropped out of highschool early lmao.

56: would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? 

Rural I guess?? But that’s only because I’ve always lived rural and don’t know any different. it’s quiet, I like quiet.

58: do you have freckles? 

Yep! I don’t have them in big patches tho? I just have like, some random single ones scattered all over my body?? XD

60: how many pictures do you have on your phone? 

Don’t have a phone and dear GOD I don’t even wanna know how many pictures I have on my laptop. Answer: too many. XD

62: do you still watch cartoons? 

OF COURSE!! :D

64: Favorite dipping sauce? 

idk I don’t really dip things in sauce? Maybe just tomato sauce?

66: have you ever won a spelling bee?

Yes, actually!! Woooo go bb Matt!! :D

68: can you draw? 

Stick figures? Yes. XD

70:what was the last concert you saw?

Never been to one.

72: Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

Only ever been to Starbucks so I can’t really compare. 

74: what is your crush’s first and last initial?

76: what color looks best on you? 

I think blue does. 💙

78: do you sleep with your door open or closed?

Open. Sleeping with it closed freaks me out, idk why. 😅

80: what is your biggest pet peeve? 

Being condescended to. :///

82: favorite ice cream flavor? 

Mint choc chip! Or rainbow! XD

84: chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? 

GIMME THE GAY SPRINKLES EVERY TIME.

86: what is your phone background?

Laptop background is currently THIS incredibly amazing beautiful accurate drawing Oli did of my OC Ben!!! :’D

88: do you like it when people play with your hair?

Y E S. I used to hate it when it was rlly long but now it’s heaven. ^-^ Unless I’m in one of my ‘being touched makes my skin crawl’ kind of moods.

90: do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

Just whenever I have my shower, occasionally during the day if I’m sweaty or whatever. Sometimes if my insomnia kicked me in the ass I splash my face n neck with cold water to wake up in the morning.

92: have you ever been drunk? 

Nope, and I really don’t want to be. The idea of being out of control of myself, even just a little bit, is terrifying to me. No thanks. I also just generally do not like alcohol, idk why. 

94: favorite lyrics right now

My all-time favourite lyrics come from Twenty One Pilots’ song ‘The Judge’ (even though I don’t actually like the song itself I love the lyrics):“When the leader of the bad guys sangSomething soft and soaked in painI heard the echo from his secret hideawayHe must’ve forgot to close his doorAs he cranked out those dismal chordsAnd his four walls declared him insane”

96: day or night? 

*chanting* NIGHT NIGHT NIGHT NIGHT NIGHT N

98: favorite month? 

Ironically, considering my character March is a giant dickwad, it’s March. XD The weather is just starting to turn cool after the grueling summer and it’s also my birth month! :D

100: who was the last person you cried in front of?

My Dad. Yikes.

AHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKIN, ALEX!!!

[sky-writes-daydreams]

How They Met Part Three

A;N: Hey. I’m going ahead and posting this today. I’ve got things to do this weekend so I don’t really know when I’m going to post the next part. Hopefully this can keep you guys at bay till then lmao. Um I just want to say... All of the likes and reblogs and the oh so kind messages have been really helping. Work has been kicking my ass but when I go to break and see that you people have blown up my phone... It really makes me feel awesome So thank you all. :) As always, Feel free to send an ask or dm me if you want to talk. I don’t bite much.

@valkyrieofardyn @mooshinspace @shigekihizashi (finally let me tag you lmao) 

As always.... Enjoy. 

Next Chapter     Masterpost

All I heard was knocking. I was slowly waking up but then I heard it. I sighed then and slowly got up. I had crashed hard last night after my date. I walked over in my pjs sliding on an overshirt over my tank just in case. I opened the door and stopped. It was one of the boys from the hotel.

“Hello miss, Sorry to wake you.”

“No it’s ok… What’s up?”

“I was told to give this to you by a mister Ardyn.” He held out a thick folded letter. I stopped then and he smiled.

“He said you might have need of them. I didn’t ask what that meant.”

“No it’s alright…” I took them carefully then and smiled.

“Thanks hon..”

“It’s nothing. Anything else?”

“Yeah… Does that store here sell ebony?”

“Yes miss.”

“Sweet. Thanks.” He nodded and headed back then. I closed the door and sat at the table unfolding them. The first page was a note.

Dear Skylar,

Last night was amazing. I didn’t say so but it had been a long time for myself as well. I couldn’t have found a better date though.

Now the important part. I don’t know when they will get these to you. The papers behind here are what you will need to get back into duscae. I have no use for them being who I am. That being said, Sometime in the upcoming week, I will be in lestallum for some time. If you make it that far and so wish, Please find me. I’d love to talk with you again.

From the espresso and the best cinnamon roll in lucis.

I quickly dropped the letter on the table and looked. These were papers needed to get through any imperial barricade! Papers like this weren’t easy to get ahold of right now.  So how…? I quickly put them down and ran to get dressed. I stayed in the tank top and over shirt and put on jeans with my boots before running out. I had to find him. Only I didn’t realize what time it was. I had slept past noon.

Stepping outside almost blinded me. I hissed at the light and quickly looked around. Only Then I saw some people I recognized walking away from the hotel. I gasped and ran over.

“Boys!” They looked up and I saw their shock. The blonde one came running though and hugged me. I jumped a bit but hugged him back.

“Prompto, hey.”

“Hey! We thought we missed you!”

“No. The ferry’s shut down…. I didn’t have a way of telling you all before now.”

“Quite alright.” Ignis said smiling.

“Looks like you slept well.”

“Huh? Oh yeah. Um… look I can chat in a second but I have to know. Have you seen a man in a long coat? He’s got red hair.”

“Yeah…. Why?”

“I need to kick his ass over something. Is he still here?”

“No. He left about an hour ago.” I growled a bit then.

“Damn it….” Gladio smiled then.

“Date and run?”

“Something like that…” They chuckled then and Noctis smiled.

“Come chill with us then. We’ve got someone who might be able to get us a ride.”

“Nice… Yeah. let me pack up and then I’ll join you for a bit. I’ve got to get home today though…. I’ve been gone too long.” They nodded and honestly helped me get my bags back into my jeep. I had my sword on again and while noct fished for a cat, we just talked about what all they had been up to. They were really good hunters now and had made some serious gil. They already had enough to afford a room at the hotel. I was seriously impressed honestly. Then they invited me to go hunting with them. I figured it couldn’t hurt. Some of the hunts around here had some higher level beasts on them. A little backup never hurt anything.

Only by the time we finished, It was too late for me to be trying to go home. I might have the new headlights but I didn’t want to risk it. Thankfully I had more than enough saved up, between selling a few things and the hunts to afford a room at the hotel. I easily paid and got one next to the boys. It had been a good day honestly.

That got ruined by sunrise. I had gotten up early, hoping to get a headstart on the road. I was packing up what I had gotten out last night when someone knocked. I finished before going to the door. It was Ignis. Only the look on his face instantly worried me.

“Ignis…?”

“Come to our room. Quickly.” I nodded and followed him. He had a paper in his hand. We went in and Noct stood up.

“What’s with the look…?” He handed it to gladio and I saw it on his face as well. Prompto read it outloud though.

“Insomnia…. Falls.” I froze then. There was no way. There was supposed to be peace.

“This your idea of a joke?” Noct was pissed.

“Noct. I need you to calm down so I can explain.”

“I’m as calm as I’m gonna get!” He came close and I went closer to prompto. Noctis was kind of scary right now. I started reading the paper while gladio held it.

“There was an attack. The imperial army has taken the crown city.”

“As treaty room tempers flared, Blasts lit the night sky. When the smoke cleared from the Citadel, The king was found… Dead.” Gladio read aloud. You could hear it. They were crushed. This was insane.

“No…”

“We had no way of knowing….”

“Knowing what!?”

“That the signing was last night. That insomnia…”

“But the wedding! Altissia!”

“That was the plan. Yet Every headline says the same thing. How could they all be wrong?” I couldn’t even believe it. This was….

“We can’t believe this without seeing it for ourselves.”

“It might not be safe for us there!”

“It might not be safe for us here.” I nodded then.

“I’m going to ask Cid…. If anyone knows the truth, it’s that old man.” Noct nodded then.

“Go and ask him… Gladio, Give her our numbers. Call us when you find out.” I nodded then and we quickly exchanged numbers while ignis and prompto packed. I put my phone up then and looked to noct.

“Look…. If you guys make it to duscae for any reason… Call me. I’ve got a place there. You can hide with me ok?” He nodded then.

“Thanks… Be careful yourself ok?” I nodded then.

“I’m sorry…” He just nodded and I had to go. This had to be a lie. There was no way the peace would have failed so quickly.

There were imperial Dreadnoughts flying all over the area. I had put my top on before the rain hit this morning and now, I was driving as carefully as I could. I was still gunning it. I had to find out the truth. Only I knew the car parked outside the garage. I quickly drifted over by takkas and parked it before running. Cid was inside with the marshall. I ran in and the look on Cid’s face told me everything.

“No….” He looked up then.

“Hey kid… Thought you were hitting the city on the water.”

“They shut down the ferry… No ships in or out….”

“Did you see the prince?”

“He got there yesterday…. We…. It’s true!?” Cid nodded then.

“Afraid so….” I looked to the Marshall then and he nodded.

“Have you seen Noctis?”

“They’re heading back to insomnia… He’s pissed… Lunafreya…”

“We don’t honestly know. We think some of the glavie members who didn’t turn got her out.” I nodded then.

“The boys… They won’t be able to get back in, will they?”

“No. There’s an imperial checkpoint right outside the city. Liede is locked off.” I nodded then.

“I’ve got to call them…”

“Let me.” The marshall was serious.

“They all have my number. They’ll call me soon.”

“Ok….” I had to process this. It was insane honestly.

“What do I need to do?” He stopped then.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not from the city…. I’m not even part of the guard. Just a hunter…. But I can still fight.” Cid nodded then. The marshall sighed then.

“Call me Leonis then. Get to lestallum. If you’ve got room in your jeep, offer refugees rides if you can. Get them to the city. It’s the safest spot. I’ve got to stay around here to help the prince out with something.” I nodded then.

“Alright. Cid… You gonna be ok old man?”

“I can hope.” I nodded then.

“Call me if you need me.”

“Will do hon.” I gave his shoulder a tight squeeze then before taking off. There was no time to lose.

It was about an hour from sunset when fate had some fun with me. I got to the barricade quickly after leaving cid’s and let a few different people hop in the jeep with me. A lot of others were doing the same thing. I had the papers ardyn left me on the dash and I was glad of it. They took one look and I was let through. The people riding with me were so relieved. I was in total shock but still got them to the city safely. A lot of people were coming in right now. I was heading back to see if anyone else needed a ride through when I saw it. The maroon car Ardyn drove off in. I quickly pulled over in front of him and jumped out running over.

“Ardyn!” He peeked around the trunk and smiled.

“Skylar. Fancy seeing you like this. Glad to see the papers worked.”

“Yeah… What happened?”

“Oh… I hit something. Gave me a flat tire… Which I apparently have no way of changing.” I laughed then and looked in the trunk. There was an umbrella and a spare tire but that was it.

“Wow….” He nodded then and I smiled.

“Then be glad I found you. I’ve got what you need.” He looked over but I was already headed back to the jeep. I opened the back hatch and got the jack and my lug wrench and a big rock I kept in case.

“A tip if you’re going to be in this country for long… get a jack and a lug wrench… and a first aid kit.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Pretty much.” I went over by the flat front tire and had the rock secure it before I started loosening the lug nuts. It was hard though. They had been put on with a drill.

“You know how to do this?”

“Used to help at a friend’s shop. I know how to change a tire, Change the oil in most cars, and check fluids… oh and replace headlights to a point.”

“Wow… So you can do basic car care, You hunt, You can be a cute waitress…. What can’t you do?”

“Um… Dance.” He laughed then as he came close. I got up then and stomped on the wrench. I felt it pop then and I smiled.

“There we go.”

“Did you just…?”

“You gotta break the resistance!” He sighed then but I got it to work every time. I was making quick work of it.

“So…. Did you hear?”

“About what?” I looked up as I got the last one loose enough.

“Insomnia.” I stopped then. I had been ignoring it.

“Yeah… I heard.” I got the jack under the frame then and started raising the car up quickly.

“Skylar…” I shook my head then and focused. I got it up high enough and quickly got the nuts off then.

“Talk to me.”

“Why? You already know what happened….” I put the nuts down then and looked down at the ground.

“I haven’t heard from any of my friends inside… I know of two kids who have lost parents… No three cus he has a sister…. The oracle could be dead for all any of us know…. Or captured…. Your country just destroyed a nation from the inside…. And I bet that damn chancellor doesn’t give a damn.”

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“Like killing our king wasn’t!? I’m friends now with his son! He’s crushed… His dad was all he had left…. He honestly believed in the peace and now…. Because of your damn bosses, no one is ever going to trust that word again.” I got the tire free then and dropped it by the car. I was honestly pissed. I wasn’t even part of the city but I had respect for the king. He had always done right by these areas.

“I’m not one of the spoiled city people… but he was a fair king. He offered chances to all of us.. Not just those in the city…. His son does the same the best he can but he’s got a long way to go… a way he’s now having to run down so he can hopefully keep himself alive.” I got up then and looked at him.

“I don’t hate you ardyn…. But I’ll be damned if I don’t hate nifelheim…” He nodded then.

“I understand hon…” I nodded back and soon got his spare tire out. It was a real tire so It would be fine to drive on for a while. I got it back on in silence then. I was still so ticked off and honestly… I was scared. What was going to happen now? I got the tire back on easily and soon lowered the car carefully.

“There… That should get you back on the road…”

“Thank you. I would have helped if you let me.”

“You can put the flat up.” He laughed then but did it. I put everything up then and just sat in the trunk. He put it up and closed his before coming over.

“Skylar…”

“What?”

“I’m sorry….” I looked up. His expression… He was sad as well.

“I wasn’t there when it started… I had to leave the quay to catch a ship to take me there. Only by then… it was in full swing. It was horrible to see honestly. I don’t understand why they wasted so many lives..” I nodded then looking down.

“They don’t care about us…. We’re just the enemy Ardyn… Lucis and niflheim… We weren’t ever going to get along.”

“Well some of us can try.” I laughed a bit then and he came closer.

“Come here.”

“Huh?”

“You look like you need a hug.” I laughed a bit then smiling and nodded. I jumped down and hugged him. At first it was light but slowly I tightened it up. Just something about him screamed safety and security. I didn’t want to let go.

“It’ll be ok. There is no thing I’ve learned about your people hon… You guys don’t ever quit. This is just a setback. I know it’ll work out in the end.” I nodded then taking a deep breathe.

“Thanks Ardyn…”

“Anytime.” I laughed then and relaxed. He smelled really good too. It wasn’t a scent I’d forget anytime soon. I let go first, very slowly and just smiled.

“You’re a Strange man Ardyn…”

“Oh like you’re totally normal.” He made me look up gently then.

“I like it though.” I felt myself blush then.

“Glad to know…. Um…”

“Yes?”

“It’s close to night…. I’m pretty sure you don’t have the repelling headlights so.. You need to go soon. It’ll be dangerous after dark.” He let me go then and I smiled.

“It’ll be the smartest move.”

“I know…” He sighed then. I remembered then.

“Oh yeah.”

“What?”

“How did you know I needed those papers?”

“You mentioned this region. I figured it meant you lived around here. Plus the bags in your jeep?” He motioned towards them and I smiled.

“Nice… Yeah. I’m like a few miles away right now….”

“Then you better get going too huh?” I nodded then and smiled.

“Well… If you hang around the city close by, I’ll probably see you. I help out around there a lot.”

“Good to know hon. See you next time?”

“Yeah. Maybe next time It’ll be where I can buy a drink or two.” He chuckled then as he got into his car.

“I doubt you could afford my tastes.”

“Try me next time then…. Just be careful.”

“You too.” I nodded and quickly got into my jeep and started her up. I waited for him to leave before I turned around and found my road. A few of us hunters lived out here in a community honestly. I pulled in and waved to the ones outside before heading in. We just had to have hope. We could make it through this. We’d make those nifs pay for taking down insomnia.

[alia-turin]

That was supposed to be WAY shorter, but somehow didn’t feel right splitting it into two although there is somehow a logical middle. Next chapter would be the last one from the Insomnia chapters, probably more glaives will appear. Hope you all enjoy. 

Fic Title: Back to Life Chapter number: Act II Previous Chapters: Act I Rating/Warnings: M (sex, swearing, drinking, Tredd) Pairing: Tredd x Reader Summary: Reader has nice a career and wants to grow it, relationships are not her thing so meeting Tredd at a bar turns out to be exactly what she needs after a long day at work. Notes: Next chapter will be a bit more angsty after all it would take place just before Insomnia falls and we all know who had a major role to play *stares at Tredd*

If you feel like supporting this writer consider buying me a coffee: Ko-Fi

Tagging: @birdsandivory @jojopitcher @lazarustrashpit @yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy @kairakara101 @ladychocoberry @demidemon09 @mysticrainpain

Your desk had so many flowers on it that you felt a pollen allergy just knocking on your door. Clients, colleagues and friends all seem to remember today was your birthday and were sending you flowers, chocolates or other small gifts. You mentally started imagining how you were going to bring all that home…you would need at least couple of runs to your car. You liked the gesture, but it was too much trouble for nothing.

“Happy birthday, girl.” Carla walked to you and kissed you on the cheek. “Someone is popular!” she gestured toward all the flowers.

“I’m thinking of hiring a logistic person to help me transport all that hope.” You joked. That was a lot of flowers, you haven’t even read the cards on all of them. “So about tonight…”

“Don’t you worry dear, I have planned everything. You don’t need to do a thing, I have sorted all the invites, the food, the drinks and even called your maid to come tomorrow morning and clean.” She sat on her desk and gave you encouraging smile. “Is there anyone else you want me to invite? Maybe your glaive boyfriend.”

“He is not my boyfriend and I highly doubt he will come even if you invite him. He is not that type of friend.  He is more the fuck and go type of friend.” Tredd had become a common topic between the two of you maybe because he was the most interesting man that you went out with. It has been eight months since you two had started having some sort of relations and the nature of your ‘dates’ hasn’t changed much. He would call you or you would call him, you meet, you fuck and that was the end of it. Usually it happened once a week or once every couple of weeks depending mostly on his schedule since he was the one who got deployed for weeks at a time. You knew he fucked other women, he had made that clear, but you also weren’t exclusively his. Sex with him was good, but there was other fish in the pond and you were just living your life. You weren’t ready or into relationships, so life was perfect as it was.

“Darling, he is the only man that you have fucked more than twice in the past two years.” Carla was having a very annoying smile right now.

“That’s not true.” You decided to argue but the moment you said that you realized you didn’t really have an argument. “There was this guy…the one that works in the law firm on the third floor…what was his name…” fuck that was terrible argument.

Carla didn’t respond she just gave you an all-knowing look. It wasn’t your fault Tredd called you all the time and that sex was good.

 Your birthday party was way better than you expected. There was more than enough food which was great because you haven’t eaten anything all day, and everybody was drunk enough to have fun but not to break anything that costed more than a month’s salary. The party was supposed to be surprise, of course and you pretended to be very surprised when you walked home, never mind you gave your keys to Carla a week ago and you knew exactly what she was planning mostly because she could never keep her mouth shut about anything. You still loved her.

Your conversation with your colleagues was interrupted as the door bell rang and you gave Carla a questioning look if they were waiting for someone else, it has been almost midnight, people were starting to leave not to come.

You opened the door and you almost dropped the wine glass you were holding.

“Tredd?” the redhead was standing at your door with a gift-wrapped box.

“I thought it was your birthday so I decided to stop by. Tell you that you are an old hag and all that.” You laughed. Him showing up was the last thing you expected. “If it’s not today you can still have the present, I’m not taking it back home.”

“Why don’t you come in.” you took the gift from him and kicked the door open.

“Are you kidding me, with all your friends that have sticks so far up their asses they are coming out of their mouths.” He smirked and you just took a deep breath. “If I knew you were not alone, I wouldn’t have come.”

“Just come in I will fix you a drink, and please do not punch anyone.” He walked in and you closed the door behind him.

“What if someone tries to punch me first?” he grinned again and you really hoped it wasn’t terrible idea to let the wolf among the sheep.

You walked to the kitchen, leaving his present on the counter and grabbing the shaker to mix him a drink.

“What is he doing here?” Carla ran right after you in the kitchen like the gossip girl she was.

“I don’t know, I could ask you the same. You were in charge of the invitations.” You had hard time deciding if you want to mix him stronger drink or weaker. He might need it to get at ease with that crowd, but he might also end up in a fight with someone…tough choice.

“I don’t even have his phone number!” she said in her defense. “Plus, you said he won’t come so I didn’t even bother trying to dig his contact information.” She turned toward the wrapped box. “What’s inside?”

“No, idea, open it.” Your hands were too busy with the shaker.

She started unwrapping the gift, under the paper there was a box and when she opened it, there was a pair of shoes. She lifted them up and you almost dropped the shaker.

“So, the guy that you said is not your boyfriend, and that your relationship is not serious at all buys you a very pretty, expensive pair of shoes. You also said he has no taste in anything fashion related, so humor me that. How did that even crossed his mind?” She was till holding the shoes in front of you.

“That’s the only thing I have ever mentioned in front of him that I want.” You left the shaker on the counter and grabbed one of the shoes. It was even your size, how did he know your size, you didn’t know his. Carla had an eyebrow raised waiting for an explanation. “Couple of weeks ago we met at a bar, I had parked further down, so as we were walking down the street to my car we passed that pretty shoe store you like as well. I saw these through the window and I said I want them…I don’t even think he looked at them he just told me that I’m the bitch with the most expensive taste he ever fucked…”

“And you don’t see anything weird about that?” she left the shoes in the box.

“It’s my birthday, he is making me a present, it’s rude to crash someone’s birthday and not bring them a present.” You knew very well where she was going with that, but it wasn’t true. Tredd didn’t do feelings, he had made that clear enough and you were fine with it because you didn’t need feelings either. By the Six, you fucked like horny teenagers just couple of days ago in an alley because neither of you could wait to get to a comfortable bed. That wasn’t feelings, that was just sex. Good sex, but nothing more.

“You might need to rethink how things stand.” She gave you a very serious look and you knew a lecture followed. “You don’t buy pair of insanely expensive shoes to someone you just fuck. Not a guy like him. If he were a politician or something, sure he would buy his mistress all sorts of expensive crap. Does he do that for anyone else?” you didn’t answer but you knew he didn’t have the ability to buy something like that every day. You also knew he found your obsession with expensive shoes, bags and clothes ridiculous. You decided to keep the last piece of information to yourself, you were not going to give her any more bullets. “And he appears in your birthday uninvited, how many other guys that you occasionally fuck even texted you for your birthday?”

“Look I’m sure it all has very normal explanation.” You dismissed her while pouring the drink in a glass. “I bet he just wanted to fuck, remembered I have a birthday and couldn’t just come empty handed. It’s rude not to bring at least a box of chocolates for someone’s birthday.”

“You do notice that is not a box of chocolates?” She insisted.

“Chocolates, shoes, same thing.” You didn’t want to continue this conversation so you just walked out of the kitchen.

For your surprise whatever was left of your party went well. Tredd didn’t punch anyone nor got into verbal fight, although it was obvious he wasn’t feeling comfortable in the present crowd. You knew that your friends weren’t exactly his type and that some of them looked down on guys like him. Around two everybody had left and it was just you and Tredd alone.

“Thank you for the shoes. It was really thoughtful.” He was sitting on the couch and you sat next to him, your leg brushing against his.

“You better suck my dick like it’s the tastiest thing in the world because I just put half a rent in your stupid shoes.” He placed his palm on your knee and started massaging it gently. “Also, your friends are stupid snobs.”

“And yours can barely spell their names.” You actually didn’t know his friends, they might be the most intelligent people in the world, but you had never met them and you needed a comeback.  

“You should spell yours with your tongue around my dick.” He moved his hand up your leg and smiled at you. You knew what he wanted even before you sat next to him but now you were sure.

“Yeah because you can’t spell yours between my legs without making at least five mistakes.” You moved your hand to his crotch and lazily started stroking him feeling his erection grow under the fabric. “Also, how did you know my size?”

“All you spoiled women have the same size.” he half groaned as he said that. “I stole one of your shoes last time I was here, forgot to bring it back. I will do it next time.”

“I didn’t even notice.” You giggled and started working on the button of his jeans.

“Of course, you won’t notice, you have enough shoes to give to all the homeless in Galahd.” He grabbed your hand as you finally managed to reach under his pants, he wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Don’t.”

“Don’t?” you looked at him confused. “Did you hit your head today or something. You came for cake and drinks?”

“That is not even drinks, who the fuck needs mix twenty different things to make a drink? You pour alcohol in a class and that’s a drink, second I don’t even like cake that much.” He stood up and pulled you after him. “It’s your birthday, tonight is not about me.”

“You did hit your head.” You laughed as he lifted you and carried you to the bedroom. “Everything in life is about Tredd.”

“I’m willing to give you one day of the year that is about you. More like couple of hours. After that it’s all about Tredd again.” He placed you gently on the bed, that was new. He was nice. Tredd was never nice. You offended each other, you made fun of each other. Your conversation usually circled around him calling you pretentious bitch and you calling him rat from the slums. You gave him as good as he did and it all run flawlessly. Sex was great, but nice or gentle wasn’t words you would use for that. It was fast, rough, hard and even violent at times, but never nice. Now was different. He was kissing down your body, removing your clothes, his rough finger studying your skin as if he was touching you for first time.

He went down on you, fucking you with his tongue. It wasn’t the first time he did it, but it certainly was the first time he was slow and as if almost careful not to break you. That night he didn’t fuck you, he made love to you as trivial and boring as it sounded. It was hard to believe he had it in himself, but that appeared to be completely different side of him. He placed soft kisses on your skin and lips, his hands were caressing your body as he pushed in and out of you with passion not just animalistic need.

“I will be away for couple of weeks. Deployment.” He said as he was lying next to you, both of you breathing heavily.

“Tredd…” you rolled on the side, facing him, you wanted to ask him what had just happened, but you couldn’t. The two of you were too much alike and you knew that if you did form someone what he just did for you, conversation about why or how wasn’t going to improve the mood. “That was nice.” You finally said realizing that you can’t just say his name and let it hanging.

“Of course, it was nice, do you think I don’t know what I am doing.” He wasn’t looking at you he was staring somewhere in the ceiling. “I need to go. I have to report early tomorrow.”

He got up stretching his arms and fishing for his clothes from the floor. You watched him as he got dressed wanting to tell him that he can stay to see what his reaction was going to be, but you didn’t. You just watching him leave and didn’t even get off the bed to walk him out.

 More than two weeks passed, there was no text or call from Tredd. You messaged him after two weeks since he was supposed to be back, you just got a short response saying he is buys and he would call you when he was free. Well there was that it seemed, you felt some sort of sadness, your heart wasn’t broken, but the two of you did match pretty well and you were going to miss that casual sex based relationship. Maybe he got scared, maybe he found someone else, in any case it didn’t really matter. You were aware from the very beginning that thing cannot last forever, relationships like that never did. Someone better would always come on the horizon, for him or for you and there was going to be that. If you had to be completely honest with yourself, here was an attraction toward him on your end, but you also knew the rules of the game, you had no right to mope over him.

You wanted to see him tonight, but since he never texted back, you decided it was time to move on and he can go fuck himself.

That evening you went to your favourite bar, just for a drink, which eventually turned into two drinks. The second one was bought by a guy who started hitting on you and you didn’t mind that at all. He was cute, seemed like there was some sort of nice body under the blue shirt so that would do for the night. He was flirting with you, you flirted back, the normal way things go. It was normal until Tredd appeared out of nowhere. You and the new guy were standing at the bar, Tredd stood between the two of you with big grin on his lips as he just won the lottery.

“Hey, how are you?” he asked you but before you can even respond he turned toward the guy. “Hi I’m Tredd nice to meet you.”

“Jack.” The guy responded obviously not pleased that someone had just crashed his ‘party’, you didn’t really blame him for that. “You two know each other?” he looked at you ignoring Tredd.

“Y..” you couldn’t finish that because Tredd spoke over you.

“Yeah she rides my dick on ocasion.” You took a deep breath as he said that, he had no right to any of that. He could have responded to your messages, if he didn’t too bad so sad, you were going to find something else. “Tell me Jack what do you do for a living?”

“I’m an accountant.” He was getting annoyed and you knew that was Tredd was trying to do.

“Tredd why don’t you get me a drink.” You said trying to remove him from the situation.

“I’m talking with my new best buddy here.” Tredd places a hand on your waist. “He is an accountant. Brave calling. If the walls of Insomnia fall he will throw some balance sheets on the Empire and they will run away. Isn’t that right Jack?”

“Should have figured that out early by the looks and absolute lack of manners. You are one of the Kingsglaive, aren’t you? What? The king gave you some magic and you think you are special?” Jack smirked and you had to take a very deep breath. Men were stupid when it was about their ego. “Didn’t you lose a battle recently? I remember seeing something on the news. And then one before that. You guys like to say you protect Insomnia but it’s the wall that is protecting us, you do nothing but spend taxpayers money and get yourselves killed.”

“I told you that being an accountant is brave calling.” Tredd was talking you and then turned toward Jack and grabbed him by the collar pushing him on the bar.

“Tredd!” You grabbed his arm and tried to pulled him away. You didn’t care if they killed each other you just didn’t want to cause a scene. His body was all tense, the muscles on his arms were tightened ready to start a fight. “Tredd, come on let’s go outside.” You pulled a bit harder and he snapped out of it.

Then Jack did something stupid, he tried to punch Tredd in the abdomen, but his angle was bad and the punch didn’t have the strength he intended. Tredd on the other end grabbed the man’s hand and twisted it on the bar with terrible cracking sound, you thought he might have broken his wrist.

“Take it outside!” the bartender shouted and you saw the security guard coming your way. Everyone had pinned their eyes on you.

“Tredd come on, look at me!” you pulled him harder, which did nothing to move him but at least he turned towards you. “We are leaving, come on.”

Once the two of you were outside you started walking towards your car ignoring Tredd.

“Where are you going?” he ran after you and grabbed your wrist making you turn towards him.

“What the fuck was that?” you freed your hand from him but didn’t turn around again.

“He was talking shit, what was I supposed to do?” he wasn’t shouting but he was obviously annoyed.

“Oh, no, that happened after you acted like a jealous boyfriend. Or you just casually start conversations with hey she rides my dick on ocasion.” You argued back, you hated scenes like that and it was your favourite bar.

“I’m not jealous why would I be jealous? You think I was going to hit him because of you? Bitch, you think too high of yourself. It was about all the crap he said about the glaive.” Tredd acted as if you weren’t there when all that happened but you were. He was the one placing his hand on your waist in front of the other man, he was the one who provoked him into a fight. “And you do like my dick.”

You slapped him. Somehow it felt like it hurt you more than it hurt him.

“You have no right.” You said through your teeth. You didn’t wait for response just reached for your car’s door but he slammed it as soon as you opened it. You had your back towards him, and you didn’t turn around, just reached for the door handle again. You were not going to make a scene on the street as well.

“You were going to fuck that guy, but now you are not in the mood for me?” his voice was low, very low, if you didn’t know better you’d say he was hurt.

“I texted you!” you turned around, this time shouting at him, that childish behavior was pissing you off. “You said you were busy. What do you want me to do? Wait until you have an itch? Wait until you are done fucking all your other bitches so I can finally have some fun. That’s not how it works, Tredd. You can fuck whoever you want and so can I. You are not my husband, you are not even my boyfriend.” He didn’t say anything and you finally managed to calm down a bit.

“You belong to me. Not to that guy, not someone else. You are mine.” He made a step forward pushing you against your car, his lips almost touching yours. His hands reached for your ass and pulled you closer to him, his lips started kissing your neck.

“Stop it…” you tried to push him as you moaned.

“What you are shy now?” he moved a hand under your shirt and you had to push him away as difficult as that was. “You want to go back to mister broken wrist, his hand won’t be as good as mine.” He chuckled and showed you two of his fingers pressed against each other then made in and out motion with them.

“Tredd, if I’m yours, you have to be mine. That’s how it will work. There is no situation where I sit at home and wait for you to remember I exist while you fuck half of the city. It won’t work.” Your heart was beating way too fast. His words…it had reached something. You wanted that. You realized you wanted to call him yours, but you knew him as well. You had seen that under the layers of offensive comments, constant sex and dick jokes, there is a person who can feel like any other, but you also knew how he was, because you were the same. The moment you touched the subject he was going back away.

“I haven’t slept with anyone else but you in three months.” He finally admitted after very long silence. “I have been busy, no time to run after others.” He added that very quickly and you decided to give it to him if that was going to make him feel better. Now that he mentioned it in the past three months he has been texting you more often, instead of once every couple of weeks you were seeing him at least once a week. Couple of times you even grabbed food together, nothing special just a sandwich at a food stand on the street, but maybe that was passive way of him to ask you on a date. You were so stupid not to see that.

“You think…maybe you can avoid sleeping with others if we see each other more often?” you didn’t want to mention the relationship word because it was two of you in this conversation and both of you were scared of it. “And I will do the same. Maybe we can hang out at my place more often? I’m sorry yours is just a total mess.”

“Excuse me miss I have a golden stick up my ass, we are not all making small fortune every month to have nice expensive homes made of real fur.” He bit back, obviously ignoring the actual topic of the conversation. That was expected.

“There isn’t any real fur or leather in my apartment!” you argued back. “I’m not stepping on a dead animal nor I want to know that something died so I can step on something soft.” You sighed. That was going to lead nowhere. “Fine. I will do it. I’m asking you out on a date. Now. Tonight. There is a nice Altissian place around the corner.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he was smiling. “First of all, you are not asking me on a date, I do that. So, no I’m not going out on a date with you, but you will go out on a date with me. Second your Altissian place is way out of my pocket. There is a taco stand down the road we can get some and eat them at your place.”

[scarlett-carson]

Towels

This has been kicking around in my head since the first bath I took at the hotel in Denver, and realized that I had not packed my own towel. I did however pack a journal and a pen and managed to not write it down “because it doesn’t really fall into the scope of that particular project”. I may have several problems.

**********

Hotel towels are weird.

I mean, the ones they give you for the bath are BARELY large enough to wrap around your head and are definitely passable for use as a mat next to the tub...but the POOL towels are properly sized and can wrap around your whole wet body; tits and all.

Which.

I am presently having a very weird relationship with lately

Not the towels.

Also not exactly the tits

My body.

This...isn’t about the towels

Except that it totally is actually about the towels. Just stay with me for a minute, ok?

I promise there is a point to this.

At the beginning of the year i did keto for a bit. It seemed to be going ok. I lost like 20 pounds or whatever. I have since stopped doing keto and am pretty sure I managed to put all 20 of said pounds back on. I am essentially pregnant with Insomnia Cookies, thanks to a show I did being at the Greenhouse...and also to my shitty impulse control and bad habits during tech.

Its whatever.

DESPITE THIS HOWEVER

I recently spent most of an entire 24 hour period in bed with a partnery person and during a good deal of that time, I was *GaspPearlClutch* NAKED. Like in view of another person’s whole (presumably human) eyes.

Y’all remember when that would have NEVER happened?

I am starting to figure out that just because I hate my body...that doesn’t necessarily mean that everyone else will. Like, individually. At large, yes I am still fat and therefore people will hate that and they will hate even more that I sometimes DON’T hate it because YoU’rE GlOrIfYIng ObEsItY.

No, Sharon, I am living my best life there is a fucking nuanced difference do please try to keep up.

I should probably go back on keto, though.

Like for all of the reasons I had started it. Not because of the numbers or the sizes--because as per usual the sizes didn’t change -that- much. Like I kind of felt better overall for a while. Not to say that I feel terribly now, but I don’t feel as good.

(Sup, tangent)

So yeah. Bein nekkid with other humans.

That was not the first time.

I’ve kind of noticed it happening a bit more.

With other people, too.

And a general...hiding less overall.

I don’t know how related all of the factors are. I am noting them as Data Points(™) right now and trying to focus on staying present and not getting super caught up in the ZOMG of it all.

I think, on some level, it’s a trust thing? But the trust I have is in myself?

That...sounds insane.

Or maybe it doesn’t.

I think it absolutely ties into a few other things, though. Changes I have noticed, progress that has been made. It’s like...there are finally some tangible markers to a few of the abstract concepts we have been working on but they aren’t the ones I was expecting?

Based on a conversation I was having--for the sake of argument, let’s call it a “negotiation”--I remembered about a thing I had written and “published” on the internets called COIN OPERATED GIRL ANACHRONISM like...five years ago. It’s most recent update to this point was from 2014. So, after realizing a lot of the things that I would normally have to share or explain or disclose or whatever were no longer either relevant or necessary, I decided to take a stab at updating the post.

Now, what I should have done was pull it down completely and rework the entire piece with the previous as an outline. What I did instead was just delete the things that don’t matter as much anymore and added a few hilarious quips and updated my current testing status and whatnot.

Things that I noticed::

A bunch of things that were on the “absolutely not” list...fucking aren’t anymore

A bunch of stuff that was on the “I would like to” list...have happened

Almost ALL of the shit that is like “idk man I am really indecisive and don’t really ask for things and don’t usually initiate anything”...is gone. Because fuck that shit. WHY?

(I don’t know when I grew a spine but I think it was somewhere between “not giving a fuck what anyone thought of what I was doing anymore” and “having to be in charge of all of the things all of the time, all day no breaks”. This is not what I meant when I said I wanted to find a good work/life balance and YET)

I don’t really have anything to add right now. It’s not that I suddenly have everything I want or need--I sure as shit do not--but what I DO have is a good strong foundation to build on and good people around to help facilitate those things. That growth, those experiences, the adventures...and I have a bunch of shiny new tools to be able to build much of those things myself.

I think maybe “spend more time in bed naked with this list of humans” could be an addition. For a couple of reasons.

WAIT ARE ALL OF THESE “I”s FUCKING CAPITALIZED WHAT IS THAT SHIT? I BLAME GOOGLE FOR THAT ONE.

The things I had written four years ago were nearly unrecognizable

Actually...nearly may not even be an appropriate word choice. That shit was written by a whole ass different person.

I think

Ultimately

There are different things for different reasons

Sometimes, those reasons shape who and what we are.

We adjust and adapt.

And maybe there is a REASON the pool towels and the bathroom towels are such stupid sizes.

Maybe they have to adapt because of their respective purposes.

I mean..in all fairness, kitchen towels and beach towels aren’t the same size either. So this totally tracks.

Or maybe people are less likely to steal tit washcloths from the room.

I don’t know.

But I DO know

Hotel towels are weird.

[legendofzeldaalinktothepast]

Pathetic, Clinging Poetry - Chapter 9 (of 25)

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter 

I cross my legs, fold my hands, Straighten out my spine, Wear a skirt, gloss my lips, For a moment that won't come.

Yet here you sit, An effortless work of art With no need for sparks Just you, and you alone; And you're brighter than the sun But I can't close my eyes.

* 

As Amethyst buried her face into her pillow, the sound of footsteps in the hallway reminded her just how late -- or early -- it was. Either Jasper was up and getting ready for work, or Pearl was up and moving around. She rolled over onto her back with a sigh, rubbing her sore eyes and ripping her headphones out of her ears. Not even her white noise playlists were enough to help her sleep, so she decided it was best to just get out of bed for the time being, even if it meant falling asleep in the middle of the day and being mocked by Jasper.

Amethyst rolled off of her bed and made her way towards her bedroom door, unlocking it and slowly pulling it open; she spotted a trail of light leading down the hallway, noticing that the curtains to the balcony door had shifted. 'Must be Pearl.' she thought with a yawn. Tying her hair up into a bun and popping a stick of gum in her mouth to freshen herself up, Amethyst slid the glass door open and peered out onto the balcony. "Morning, Pierogi."

Pearl flinched, turning back to glance at Amethyst. "O-oh, good morning!" Pearl said. The tone of her voice was clearly on-edge; she was leaning against the railing with a cup of tea in her hands, anxiously swirling it around with a small spoon. "You're up early."

"Didn't really sleep much." Amethyst shrugged, scratching the back of her head. "Insomnia can be a bitch."

"Oh, I know that feeling." Pearl said. Her gaze never left her cup of tea; Amethyst noticed it was completely full and not even steaming, and wondered how long Pearl had been stirring that cup or if she'd even drank from it at all.

"How'd it go with Rose yesterday?" Amethyst asked, leaning against the railing.

"Ah, it was wonderful... She was so happy to see me." Pearl's voice seemed to immediately perk up at the opportunity to speak about Rose. "And she was excited to finally receive the poetry book; she even reassured me that her husband wouldn't be uncomfortable with it." Pearl traced the rim of the cup with her finger, her expression dropping. "Right now, though... It's a little hard to be happy about that, because... well, she confirmed something I didn't want to hear."

Amethyst raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"She... really did abandon Jasper back in high school. And now she wants me to deliver an apology for her." Pearl sighed. "And... now I feel so foolish. When I had that fight with Jasper, I'd told her right to her face that I thought she was lying about the whole thing. Now I feel like I was being even worse than her..."

"Hey, you didn't know that, alright?" Amethyst placed a hand on Pearl's shoulder. "And with the way Jasper was acting, I really can't blame you for thinking she lied. You may have screwed up, I can't deny that, but... she's got no place to judge you either. Not after the way she acted to both of us."

Pearl took a sip of her now-cold tea. "I suppose you're right." she said. "I was never good at admitting when I was wrong... But I can't live with this tension anymore." She placed her cup of tea down on the railing, turning to Amethyst with a sad smile. "Does this kind of thing happen with you and Jasper?"

Amethyst snorted. "Like, every day. We fight over every little thing under the sun, but we don't... really make up afterwards. Just kinda act like it never happened a few hours later; we're too far up our own asses to admit when we're wrong -- and by we, I mean Jasper -- and ignoring it is the only way to keep this house from turning into a warzone." she sighed, resting her elbow on the railing. "But she can't hate me too much. Like I said, she lets me stay under her roof and eat her groceries and all that shit."

"So did my mother." Pearl regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. "I mean -- not that she's anything like my her. At least I hope to God she's not. That was a harsh comparison, but -- what I meant was, just because she does nice things for you doesn't mean there's no room for improvement."

"Hey, don't worry, you've barely told me anything about her, so I didn't think much of it." Amethyst reassured. "But... yeah, I getcha. I guess it's something I'll have to put up with until I move out. Which is probably, like, a hundred years from now."

Pearl smiled sadly. "I could say the same for myself. We're both pretty dependent on her for now, so I think it's best we both try to make things better, correct?"

"Blehh." Amethyst stuck her tongue out. "You're right, but I hate it."

Pearl placed a hand on Amethyst's shoulder. "I know. It might be easier if we talk to her together rather than approaching her individually."

"Blehhh..." Amethyst groaned even louder. "It's just kinda different because she's my sister, you know? She sees me differently than she sees you. Like, way differently."

"Yes, I know..." Pearl sighed, gently stroking Amethyst's back in an attempt to comfort her. "But that doesn't mean it's the right way. If she doesn't see you as a wonderful, talented, beautiful person, then her own sibling rivalry has blinded her, and she just needs to open up her eyes."

Amethyst huffed with amusement. "Pfft, don't try to flatter me."

"I'm not." Pearl smiled, her cheeks flushing as she rested her arms back at her sides. Even with her hair a mess and her eyes baggy from sleep deprivation, Amethyst looked serene in her own way as she gazed off into the neighborhood with her arms on the balcony railing. She had an urge to brush a strand of hair away from Amethyst's face, but restricted her temptation, feeling as if she'd already shown more physical affection than was necessary. 

"Hey... you know, I don't have to go anywhere today. Perhaps we could do something fun to get our minds off this? Maybe something low-energy, like taking a walk by the duck pond, or watching a movie at home. That is, only if you're not planning to go back to sleep, of course! No pressure either way..." Pearl blushed a little, feeling silly for temporarily forgetting that Amethyst had been up all night.

"Hm... I think my best bet would be to stay up. Wouldn't wanna fuck up my sleep schedule even more than I already have." Amethyst said, standing upright and stretching her arms. "A movie might make me sleepy, though. Let's do the walk first, maybe feed some ducks."

"Alright, perfect! A-and remember there's no pressure, if there's something else you'd rather do, feel free to throw the idea out there!" Pearl said.

"I'll be sure to keep it in mind." Amethyst said with a wink. "Lemme change into something a lil less grubby and we can head out.” 

* 

Little fuzzy ducklings peeped as they paddled behind their mother, their webbed feet kicking the surface of the water. Pearl rested her arms against the fence, unable to resist cooing at the mere sight of them. "Aren't they just precious? I wish I could take one home..."

Amethyst ripped open a bag of frozen corn, grabbing a few kernels and tossing them in the ducklings' direction. "Yeah, they're cute little guys." she said, watching as they all hurried towards the corn and gobbled it right up. "You know, I've tried to convince Jasper to let me get a bird, but she said fuck no to that." Amethyst continued, rolling her eyes. "Said they smell weird and they're loud. I think she confused them with herself."

"Wow, harsh." Pearl chuckled, reaching into the bag for some corn. She pulled out a clump of kernels that were frozen together and carefully separated them with her fingers before throwing them to the crowd of paddling and quacking ducks.

"I'm joking, she probably showers more than I do." Amethyst snorted. She somewhat regretted saying it, however; not because it was mean spirited, but because it felt like they'd already talked about Jasper enough that morning. "Anyway, one of these days I wanna come out here with a canvas and just paint in front of the duck pond."

"Oh, that's a lovely idea! And maybe one day we could do one of our collaborations here as well!" Pearl flapped her hands with excitement. "Of course, I'm sure you probably want to come out here to paint and have some alone time, too -- so no pressure."

"Pfft, you kidding? We've only done one collaboration; don't even think for a second that I'm already sick of it."

"Technically only half of one, since I didn't quite do my part..." Pearl laughed awkwardly.

"Can't blame you; writing is hard." Amethyst said.

"So is painting!" Pearl said. "Though I guess we have our own talents, so it's probably not as hard for you as it is for me. I could never do abstract art... Whenever I draw or paint, I focus so much on making sure everything is neat, perfectly in place, not a single speck out of the lines, and I need it exactly how I pictured it in my mind. It took me hours to do coloring pages as a kid, and I drove my art teachers insane."

"I drove mine insane too, but for different reasons." Amethyst said. "I'd always draw all over myself with the markers. And once they banned me from using the markers, I started eating the crayons."

Pearl burst into laughter. "You sure sound like you were a handful."

"That's putting it lightly." Amethyst tossed a corn kernel up in the air; a seagull swooped down and snatched it right up. "Whoa, did you see that?"

"I did! You have excellent aim." Pearl remarked.

"Thanks!" Amethyst held the bag of corn up to Pearl. "Here, you wanna try it?"

"Alright, but I'll warn you my aim isn't very accurate..." Pearl blushed and reached in for another handful. She winded her arm up for a moment and then tossed it up into the air; the corn, however, somehow went in the opposite direction and bounced off the head of a stranger walking past, resulting in a distant "what the fuck?".

Pearl immediately turned around and hid her face, and Amethyst wheezed with laughter. "Damn Pearl, you could throw a rock at the ground and miss!" she cackled.

"I told you I had awful aim!" Pearl blushed, but she was unable to hide the smile spreading across her lips.

"Yeah, but I wasn't prepared for it to be that bad!" Amethyst wiped a tear from her eye and sighed once her laughter died down, giving Pearl a rough pat on the back. "You crack me up, Pierogi."

Still blushing, Pearl touched a hand to her cheek. "Ah... did you feel that? I think I felt a drop of rain."

"Nope. You sure it wasn't a splash from the pond?" Amethyst asked.

"I guess it could've been..." Pearl said, turning her attention back towards the ducks. She flinched as she felt another raindrop. "Ah, there it was again! I think it's startling to sprinkle."

Amethyst felt a few drops hit her face as well. "Eh, maybe you're right." she said, wiping them off with her sleeve. "Wanna head over to that bench?" she suggested, gesturing to a old wooden bench sheltered perfectly beneath a tree.

Sprinkling turned to full-on raining, and raining turned to pouring as the two hurried over to safety. "I should have brought my umbrella along..." Pearl sighed as she sat down. "Sorry, I should have planned this a little better."

"Don't worry, I don't mind chilling in the rain for a bit." Amethyst said, sitting down beside Pearl and placing the bag of frozen corn aside.

Pearl placed her hands on her lap, twiddling her thumbs. "Alright, that's good at least. I do enjoy watching the rain every now and then... It's just strange how suddenly it came on like that!" she remarked.

"Yeah, it happens." Amethyst shrugged, leaning back and stretching her arm across the headrest of the bench. Smoothing out her skirt, Pearl found herself scooting a bit closer to Amethyst, rubbing her bare arms. "Though I wish I'd brought my jacket, or worn longer sleeves at the very least..." Pearl commented.

"No wonder you're cold, you're such a skinny little thing." Amethyst sat upright and began to unbutton her red checkered flannel. "Here, wanna borrow this?" she asked.

"Ah, but won't you be cold in just your tank top?" As cold as she was, Pearl knew she'd feel guilty if Amethyst were to sacrifice her own comfort.

"Nah, I was actually getting kinda warm." Amethyst handed the shirt over to Pearl with a smile. "Promise, it's fine."

"Alright... Thank you." Pearl blushed, slipping her arms into the flannel; it was still warm from Amethyst's body heat. "That's much better... thank you."

"No problem, girlie." Amethyst said. She stretched her arms again and placed them right back where they were; as much as Pearl tried to keep her gaze forward, she couldn't help but turn her eyes towards Amethyst every now and then, noticing how her tank top hugged her figure. Pearl also found herself eyeing the dark body hair under her arms, and this observation alone made butterflies flutter in Pearl's stomach. 'Don't be creepy.' she thought, shaking off the thoughts that began to enter her mind.

"Damn, we still got all this corn left." Amethyst said, snapping Pearl out of her little daydream. "And it's almost thawed out. Maybe I can get the ducks to come on over here."

"Good idea!" Pearl said, her cheeks still lightly flushed.

Amethyst gently shook the bag in her hand, her gaze focused on a speckled brown duck straight ahead, huddled underneath a bush with her ducklings. She turned her head towards the bag of corn, but still didn't budge from the comfort of her nest.

"Damn. Guess they're not hungry." Amethyst shrugged, tossing the bag of corn to the side. "Or at least not hungry enough to get a little wet. Which is weird, considering they're always swimming."

A sudden honk frighted both Pearl and Amethyst out of their skin, and they turned to see a huge, fat goose had approached them.

"Aw, hell yeah!" Amethyst pumped her fist, while Pearl was still recovering from the shock of its dramatic entrance. Amethyst threw a handful of corn in the goose's direction, which he happily gobbled up. "Holy shit Pearl, I've never seen a goose this big! He probably gets fed three loaves of bread a day!" She shoved her hand into pocket and retrieved her phone. "I gotta take pictures of this chunky boy!"

"What a cute little guy! Well -- not little, but you know what I mean." Pearl shyly grabbed a handful of corn from the bag. Before she could even toss it onto the ground, however, the goose leaned right up and ate the corn straight from her palm. Pearl's jaw just about dropped to the ground, and she heard the 'click' of the camera on Amethyst's phone.

"This guy's got guts!" Amethyst cackled, and the moment the goose was finished Pearl whipped a mini bottle of hand sanitizer from her skirt pocket and poured an excessive amount onto her palm. "H-he sure is eager!" Pearl stuttered, her skin crawling as she imagined just how many germs that goose must have left behind.

"Here you go big guy; since the other birds are too pussy to come out in the rain, you can have the rest!" Amethyst said, dumping the remaining corn onto the grass. The goose honked happily and wiggled its little tail as it gobbled its snack right up. "Man, I think I'm gonna adopt this little fucker. I'm gonna name him Chumbo."

"Are you planning to take him home?" Pearl teased.

"Man, I wish! But that's probably some form of illegal." Amethyst said, taking one last picture of the goose before putting her phone away. "Besides, he's probably got friends. Maybe even a wife and kids."

"Or a husband and kids!" Pearl added with a wink.

"That's true, Chumbo is definitely a fellow gay." Amethyst grinned.

As Chumbo finished up his frozen corn and waddled off, the rain finally began to slow down. "Would ya look at that! I think our buddy here controls the weather." Amethyst said.

Pearl huffed with amusement. "Yes, of course! He only made it rain because he was grumpy about being hungry." she said, pulling herself to her feet and stretching. She re-adjusted the flannel on her shoulders. "By the way, are you feeling cold yet? This flannel is so comfortable, but I don't want to keep it away from you!"

"Not at all." Amethyst reassured, pulling herself to her feet. "Besides, you look super cute in it."

Pearl blushed and covered her cheeks with her sleeves so Amethyst wouldn't see how flustered she'd gotten. "Oh, t-thank you!" she said, unable to suppress the smile spreading across her face. She took in the scent of the flannel once again, letting out a silent sigh; she could tell Amethyst had put on some sort of perfume, but it was something very mild and natural that Pearl found rather comforting, even though she couldn't make out whatever the exact scent was. "Anyway, let's head home, shall we?" she suggested.

"Good idea." Amethyst shoved her hands into her jean pockets and led the way back to the sidewalk; as they headed towards the gates of the park, Pearl's heart was still pounding in her chest. 'Calm yourself! Don't look so deeply into such a small compliment...' she thought.

As the clouds began to clear up and the sun continued its journey through the sky, Pearl caught a glimpse of a faint rainbow in the distance. The ducks began to retreat from their hiding places, and a small family of them pattered across the sidewalk in front of Pearl and Amethyst. A comfortable silence fell between the two, and for the moment, Pearl was far away from all of her unwanted thoughts. 

[incomplete-nano-stash]

Welcome to Technasia Ch 16

              The halls allowed very little light in, a fitting den for a group of creatures such as these. The dark walls echoed with insane calls, screams, and moans, the orchestra of suffering reverberating through the entire structure. At its core, far below the surface, a single room funneled every peep of suffering down to a single individual, sitting on a throne of despair.

              He crouched low in his seat, his hooded head held in his hands, hands which were scarred and torn, looking ancient. The cacophony above him always served to increase his growing mental instability, as much as he claimed to others around him that it helped him focus on his task at hand. No task was set before him at this moment, though, only the sounds of human desperation kept him company, at least until a figure entered the room.

              The door made a loud enough noise that it broke Interis from his stupor. He lifted his head, the hood dangling down and obscuring his face. “Yes, what is it?”               The figure did not answer. He did not need to, as his mouth was sewn shut to ensure his loyalty to the vow of silence. He simply handed Interis a missive. The hooded man took the missive from his underling, waving him away, and reading over the message contained.

                             Technasia operation stalled. New manpower required. Advise.

              Interis threw the missive aside, grumbling. Apparently, his most incompetent assassin had wound up with the Technasian operation. He stood up from the throne, marching out of the room, the growing sounds of torment now a mere whisper in his mind as his anger grew.

              He worked his way through the labyrinthine halls and staircases until he reached his destination, a holding area where numerous assassins were housed. The loudest screams tended to come from this room, as it housed the most recently recruited assassins, still reeling from the mutilations enacted upon their persons. The lead of the room, a burly man with raw, chafed skin, turned to observe Interis’s entrance.

              “Ah, Interis, what may I do for you?”               Interis reached one of his diseased, shredded hands out to the larger man’s throat, taking hold of his windpipe. The burly man gagged. Interis’s eyes seemed to glow from under his hood, flashing fury. “You sent a new assassin to Technasia, didn’t you? Hungras, you fool!”

              Hungras struggled to breathe in Interis’s grip. “He was the best … I could spare, my lord …”

              “Your best has been gaining me diminishing returns for a long time, Hungras.” Interis tightened his grip on Hungras’s windpipe, his fingernails starting to dig into his victim’s skin and draw blood. “Why should I let you have another chance?”

              Hungras choked and gagged, trying to respond.

              “Well? What have you to say for yourself?!”

              Hungras clawed at Interis’s arm, trying to get his lord to release him. Interis finally relented, releasing his grip on Hungras’s neck. Hungras collapsed in a heap on the floor, gasping and panting for air while trying to respond. “I have more men to send, my lord, good men. Some of the newer, healthier ones.”

              Hungras coughed and spat out a large clump of blood and mucus, still struggling to breathe. Interis crossed his arms, standing over the other man. “Do you know why I keep you around?” He crouched down to Hungras’s face. “Pity. Pure and simple. I brought you into the Guild, I trained you personally, and you have done nothing but disappoint me at every single turn. What kind of person am I that I will still keep you around despite this?”

              Hungras coughed again, but his pants slowed. “A merciful one, my lord?”

              Interis nodded. “A merciful person, that’s right Hungras. A merciful person forgives. A merciful person takes in the suffering, helps them get on their feet, gives them purpose.” He grabbed Hungras’s ear. “But a merciful person can turn merciless if betrayed too often, my friend. So listen closely, and listen well.” Interis brought his face close to the captured ear. “I will only give you one more chance to do this right, Hungras. Send an assassin to Technasia. You know the targets. Fail me again, and mercy becomes retribution. I will have my dead bodies, Hungras, it’s just a matter of whose now.”

              Interis pushed Hungras away from him in disgust, turning and leaving the room. Hungras now rubbed both his neck and his ear, returning to his duties and his new task at hand, choosing a replacement assassin.

                Prince Guent fumed in his resplendent quarters, pacing furiously back and forth. There were already several broken windows and mirrors, victims of the Prince’s boundless rage. Although every surface in the room was gilded in the finest gold leaf, creating the sense of luxury, Prince Guent regarded the place as little more than a prison.

              An attendant cautiously opened the door. “Your Highness?”

              A breakable trinket came flying across the room, striking near the opening of the door. The attendant ducked the broken shrapnel from the trinket’s destruction. “What the fuck do you want?”

              The attendant recovered and opened the door wider. He ducked another flying projectile as he approached Prince Guent. “Your Highness, your father King Turgen is ready for you.”

              Prince Guent growled. “It’s about goddamn time.” He shoved the attendant to the floor as he walked past gaining no small satisfaction from hearing the little man slam down on the floor and have trouble getting back up. He almost laughed about it, the only thing right now that could lighten his mood.

              He made his way through the palace, through hallways and passages, until he reached the throne room. King Turgen sat in his usual place, but the Prince was put off by noticing his own seat was missing, no longer at the King’s side. He knelt down before his father. “Your Majesty, Father.”

              King Turgen grumbled, his low anger turning into unchained rage as he continued. “I gave you one simple task, to double check the border guard with Lord Qine. You turned that into chaos. You stripped Lord Moethran of her title. You may have had something to do with Lord Qine’s murder, I’m not sure about that one yet. I’m pretty sure you had nothing to do with Lord Jair’s murder. But you’ve taken it upon yourself to turn your brother into a fugitive, to threaten open war with Technasia, to basically FUCK US IN THE ASS DIPLOMATICALLY!”

              King Turgen rose up from his throne.

              Prince Guent crouched lower. “I’m sorry, Father, I only wanted to …”

              “I know what you want, you fuck!” King Turgen kicked Prince Guent in the head. The Prince sprawled on the floor, clutching his temple where his father’s foot had landed. “You want my throne. You want my power. You want to do whatever you want, and have no consequence.” King Turgen grabbed Prince Guent by his hair. “I hate to break it to you, boy, but ruling is not that simple. I am a king, not a tinpot dictator!”

              Prince Guent gritted his teeth under his father’s grip. “Father, please, I only want to defend our country, to make us great …”

              “By bringing back the worldwide schism? Is that what you want? To blast all of us, ally and foe alike, into the dark ages once more?” King Turgen slapped the Prince hard, never once letting go of his hair. “You’re no ruler, boy. You’re a ten year old with a magnifying glass, and all you see the world as is a bunch of ants to cook.” The King started dragging his son the length of the throne room by his hair. “If you become this nation’s ruler, I shudder for the remaining time this planet has in existence!”

              Prince Guent whimpered as he was dragged. The whimper turned into a full-throated yelp as King Turgen flung him out the door of the throne room. “Father, what are you doing?”

              King Turgen spat in his son’s face. “Don’t call me that.” King Turgen’s voice lowered to a sinister growl. “For the good of Litigia I banish you. You are disowned, Guent. Take your rage, take your attitude, take everything, shove it sideways up your ass, and never ret—”

              The King’s rejoinder was cut short by the entrance of a dagger into his stomach. King Turgen looked down at the weapon, and the hand attached to it, following the path up the arm to his son. Prince Guent’s eyes were black, cold, unemotional.

              “Fuck you, old man.” Prince Guent pushed King Turgen back into the throne room. He withdrew the dagger from his father’s stomach, plunging it in again between his ribs. And again. And again. Again. Again.

              King Turgen collapsed on the floor. Guent stood over him, continuing to drive the dagger into the older man, coating both men in blood. When he heard struggling breaths, Guent looked into his father’s fearful eyes. The King’s bloodstained face showed the true fear, the betrayal, the sadness.

              Guent cared not for any of it. “The King is dead. Long live the King.” He drove the dagger down into his father’s neck, severing his windpipe. He watched with unbridled glee as the life evaporated from the King’s eyes.

                The assembly line floor bustled with activity at all hours now, enough noise being generated to keep Lord Poe awake for nights on end. Every few hours, insomnia took full hold and Lord Poe would take a brief tour of his factory floor, checking the progress on every new order his King had placed.

              The business was healthy, but the supplies were running low. Already, his company was having to look for alternative materials for some of the parts; often times they wound up being unreliable, but this wasn’t much of a concern for Lord Poe: all the weapons needed to do was be able to fire in some way and kill something in some manner, and they could still be issued in the field, and the orders would continue coming.

              Looking out of place in his dressing gown, Lord Poe stumbled his way over to a line producing mini-ballistas. The line manager walked up to his boss eagerly. “Lord Poe, how can I help you tonight?”

              Lord Poe muttered softly. “Don’t stand on ceremony too much, Master Hollister, I’m just checking on the floor tonight. How are things?”

              Hollister looked down the line, urging Lord Poe to do the same. “I think it’s going pretty well so far. My boys are chugging away, we’ve been pretty secure on parts, although some of our cogs are defective right out of the box.”

              Lord Poe sighed. “It’s a bit of a risk that we have to take, Master Hollister. How many cogs have you been having to dispose of?”

              Hollister motioned for the Lord to follow him. They made their way over to a waste bin, and Hollister counted up the number of damaged cogs inside. “Looks like about … I’d say seven cogs out of each shipment.”

              Lord Poe sighed. Each shipment was 21 cogs, so losing a third of each shipment to defects was more than what was acceptable loss. “Are they repairable? We need those cogs, Master Hollister.”

              Hollister smirked. “We can sure try, I guess.” Hollister whistled and motioned down the line to two of his workers, who came over quickly.

              As Hollister started discussing repairing the defective cogs, an attendant ran up to Lord Poe’s side with a hand slate. “My Lord, urgent missive from the palace.”

              Lord Poe took the hand slate from his servant and read it over, his eyes darkening with each line.

King Turgen Halder, Protector of Litigia, has died. The people of Litigia are ordered to attend the coronation of your new King, Guent Halder, and to celebrate his ascension to the throne. At this time new Lords will be announced to replace the late Lords Jair and Qine and the disgraced Lord Moethran.

              A second missive arrived on the hand slate almost immediately after Lord Poe finished reading the initial one. He opened it.

                             Poe Industries is now contracted to quadruple previous order.

                             King Guent

              Lord Poe groaned. He looked up at Hollister, who was finishing up with his two workers. “Well Master Hollister, looks like we’re giving you more business.”

[starwitness42]

Because Saturday night is prime time for doing stupid things, I thought I’d deviate from my usual Malec and Zude to post something original. It’s the first chapter of a novel I’ve been working on, on and off, for a few years now, and I guess I’m hoping if I post some of it here it might give me the impetus I need to actually finish the damn thing (as that seems to work with doing fanfic WIP).

The novel is called Justice, and it’s basically my Big Gay Vigilante Superhero book. Which I think is enough of an explanation for now. If anyone is interested, chapter one is beyond the cut. 

*heads off to edit chapter two*

The sky is the color of steel as it reflects off the blood on the pavement. It’s riverside factory gray, not the polished gloss of high rises – cold, impersonal and filthy. But Morgan is too exhausted to focus on anything but the cold.  

He’s been up all day, longer if you factor in his old friend insomnia. But he’s been on his actual feet for more hours than he can count thanks to Cap’s banishment to the land of traffic duty. An assignment he’s been pulling ever since he decked some punk dealer that’d been selling coke to minors out of the back of his beat up Honda Civic.

The guy was on the street the next day because of Morgan’s stunt, which might’ve bummed him out if Mr. Civic hadn’t conveniently turned up dead in a ditch ten days later. But despite that glorious stroke of karma, Morgan’s still being punished for the punch, which is completely unjust if you ask him.

Normally he would’ve gotten saddled with some form of therapy as well, anger management classes, group counseling or some other kumbaya waste of time. But a bullet a millimeter off his spine going on a year and a half ago already has him seeing a department-mandated shrink once a week, so all he was given was this.

Three-plus weeks of, “It’s the pedestrians’ turn to cross,” and, “You can’t park there, ma’am,” and he already feels like he’s going insane. He’s frozen, miserable and itching for a drink more so than usual, but that’s the point, right? It wouldn’t exactly be a punishment if he were having fun.

He should be happy that he’s at least at a crime scene now, even if it’s only crowd control. There are flashing lights, a mutilated corpse and everything just over his shoulder. But he’s apparently too burnt out to concentrate on anything except the oncoming symptoms of frostbite.

“Reyes! Look sharp!” detective Carlson screams. Also know as not really his boss even though he seems to think he is.

Morgan would flip him off if it didn’t mean pulling a hand out of his pocket. Because he’s freezing, remember? The sun’s about to go into hibernation from its factory gray and January in Chicago is a bitch and a half once the lights go out, so the flipping off will have to be mental this time. Far less satisfying but a helluva lot warmer, so a tossup, in the end.

He tries to pull his attention back to the job in front of him, scans his eyes around the crowd in search of anything suspicious, but all he can see are the typical gawkers. The people on their way home from work, going from a boring job to an even more boring life that are drawn to sirens and flashing lights like moths to a flame. And it’s all just so incredibly tedious it makes his mind numb.

That’s probably why he doesn’t hear it. Or if he hears it, why it doesn’t register – the sound, the whistle, the screech. Incoming mail. That’s what he would’ve called it back in his Army days, something he was trained to pick out of a crowd. But he isn’t as sharp as he used to be and so the first thing he notices is the heat, bum-rushing through the cold.

It’s not unlike getting hit with a brick wall of fire, and in the span of one choked breath, he’s some place else entirely.

There’s a voice in this other reality, calling his name. Morgan, over and over and over. And he tries to smile at the voice because he knows it. Only when he moves his lips, he finds himself gagging on dirt. It’s rough and gritty in his mouth, heavy in his lungs, doing its best to choke the life clear out of him all against the backdrop of the voice of his dreams.

Of his nightmares.

He remembers this. He’s reliving it now (is he dying? dead?), but he was living it then, too. For real. This memory.

He’ll be pulled out soon. There’ll be rubble all around him, a building with a vast, yawning hole next to him and exploded concrete covering the ground at his feet and him. There. Pulling Morgan out of it all, dragging him back to the light of day with a smile on his face and a laugh in his voice to cover the fear they both knew he was feeling.

Alex.

Friend.

Brother.

Alex.

Morgan has dreamt this before, has felt the explosion, smelled the cordite. But every time he opens his eyes, feels trembling fingers wiping the ash from his face, it goes. The real Alex goes, gets swallowed into the sun that burnt Morgan’s eyes on that day, forcing him to wake up alone, covered in a sheet of cold, sickly sweat. Only today…

“Alex?”

It’s half question, half sob, as Morgan stares up at a sand painting. Blond hair, blue eyes and desert cammo blending into the endless yellow and brown of an early twenty-first century Iraq. A picture of nothing but sand and ash that he’s sure will disappear if he reaches out to touch it.

“You are one lucky son of a bitch,” Alex observes as he tugs on Morgan’s Kevlar, puts him back to right, or as close to it as he can. The words an echo in Morgan’s ears almost a decade old. “What did I tell ya? My boy’s got a horseshoe shoved up his ass.”

“Alex.”

The word crumbles this time, bitter in a way it shouldn’t be, rotten like the dead.

“Yes. Me Alex. You Morgan,” he replies in his best caveman, his hands still on Morgan’s body, still assuring himself that Morgan isn’t a hallucination. That on that day, Morgan was actually alive like a favor, five years down the road, Alex wouldn’t be allowed to return.

Morgan wants to say something, anything, everything. He wants to tell Alex all the words he never got to speak over the years, the decades. Thank you in a dozen different languages, goodbye in ten times as many countries, but he’s choking again. Choking worse. There’s a ringing in his ears, loud, shrill, insistent, drowning out Alex’s words and Morgan can’t catch his breath and he feels like he’s falling.

Falling.

Fall-

“Morgan!”

The shouting is different here, sound flooding in as he feels something wrench in his stomach, just behind his ribs. And before he can even get a handle on where he is, he’s puking all over it.

He’s on his hands and knees; he can feel that now. The pavement is hard, cold and scratchy through his cheap polyester pants. There were lights, weren’t there? Sirens and a dead body and then the sound and the fire and now he’s vomiting in a field of dirt and ash.

“You’re okay, kid, just get it all out,” the voice that isn’t Alex’s says. Relieved. It’s relieved, and familiar somehow, making him anything but calm as a hand rests gently in the center of his back, attempting to steady him.

“An RPG,” Morgan manages to stutter in between gasps and hacks. “Someone actually fired a fu-”

He doesn’t get any further than that, to wondering what kind of psychotic asshole would fire a rocket propelled grenade into the middle of a crowded Chicago street. The smoke is thick where he’s still crumpled on the ground, joining all the other crap currently crowding his lungs, and so it’s all he can do to keep breathing.

“We need a paramedic over here!” the voice yells, close to Morgan’s ear because the hand is still there on his back, tethering them. “We’ve got another live one!”

That’s panic. He can still hardly hear anything outside of the ringing, and screaming, so many people screaming. But there’s panic in the voice now and it makes him want to know who gives enough of a crap about him to be worried.

The second he looks up he regrets it.

“Damn it.”

The words are an impressively deep groan as he presses his palms hard into the ground beneath him in the hopes that he’ll have enough leverage to stand on his own. Which he doesn’t, not even close.

“Don’t worry, Officer Reyes, you’re okay, you’re safe,” his savior says as he annoyingly helps him to his feet, clearly not getting what the problem is. And Morgan wishes he had even a little strength right now because he’d like nothing more than to be able to run the hell away.

“I mean damn, it’s you,” he corrects, trying to shrug the helping hands off of him and hating the way his voice sounds right now, weak and shaky. Because if there’s one person on this planet he wants to sound strong in front of, it’s this jackass.

Morgan doesn’t know his name, not his real one anyway. No one does, as far as he’s heard. He’s just Justice, pompous ass name for a pompous ass dick that Morgan only looked up to as a kid because of his lack of anything remotely resembling a father figure. A real life masked superhero in tights and everything, forerunner of the Superhero Revolution, making the world safe for the little guy, only now?

Now the sight of him makes Morgan physically ill.

“You’re welcome,” Justice replies, the panic gone as he gets Morgan upright enough to take him a few steps away from his pool of vomit before forcing him back down onto the curb.

He wants to object, wants to shove Justice off of him, kick him in the balls maybe even, tell him to just piss off already, leave him alone to die in peace. But his eyes are going black, his head is swimming, and if he weren’t pretty sure he’d just thrown up everything he’d eaten in the past week and a half he’d be worried he was going to start heaving again. So the energy it would take to get Justice off of him might as well be astronomical.  

A few beats later, Justice adds insult to Morgan’s evident injuries by crouching down in front of him so he can run his hands over Morgan’s body like he thinks he’s a medic, checking for anything life threatening. His fingers pressing lightly into his scalp, ribs, neck, and chest, forcing him to shut his eyes and pull in a ragged breath as deep as the pain will allow it to go.

“Don’t you have, like, better things to do? Kittens or some crap to save?”

He tries his best not to think of where he was a few minutes ago, of Alex tugging on his Kevlar, laughing in the sun. Because he still hasn’t gotten a grip on what’s going on here, and so he’s not sure what’ll happen if he lets himself slip back there.

“We really need to get you to a hospital,” Justice mumbles in response, completely ignoring Morgan like he always does whenever they’re unlucky enough to run into each other. “Look at me.”

He doesn’t like being ordered around by weirdos in costume, so he says “Mmm” and shakes his head instead, regretting that immediately too when it makes him feel like gravity has lost all control of the situation.

“Open your eyes!”

More than anything else, it’s the way Justice’s voice snaps that gets him to comply. He’s been obeying tones exactly like that for most of his life – foster parents and drill sergeants, handlers and supervising officers. And it brings Morgan within an inch of decking Justice, vertigo be damned, because screw him right in the freaking ear for speaking to him like that.

“Fuck off,” he says more than a little petulantly, using what little video-game-health-bar strength he’s managed to save up in the last few minutes to shove Justice away from him.

Instead of sending him sprawling back into a satisfyingly embarrassing heap, the guy just gets smoothly to his feet. And now he’s looking down on Morgan, literally, which is just terrific.

“Can’t you leave me in peace to finish puking up my dinner?”

Justice glares at him what he’d be willing to bet is sternly, with undoubtedly scrunched eyes and hard set lips behind his stupid black and red mask. His arms crossed over his chest in body language that screams inexplicable disappointment.

“No offense, Officer Reyes, but you don’t look like you’ve eaten anything besides the worm in the bottom of the bottle for weeks.”

If he weren’t pretty sure he was dying from internal injuries, he would kick the crap out of Justice right now, standing there all smug in his superiority. But he’s saved the trouble by a paramedic joining their little party, feeling Morgan up the same way Justice had while Mr. Saves the Day slips away like nothing happened. Like now that his precious paramedic has arrived, Morgan no longer needs him even though, if you ask him, he didn’t need him in the first place.

Justice saved his life once, that’s the problem. There are pictures of it and everything, newspaper clippings and obnoxious jokes from the rank and file pond scum at the precinct. And Morgan is pretty sure that as long as he lives, he will never forgive Justice for that.

For failing to leave him to burn to death in a pit of his own failure all those months ago, just like he wanted.

[cynicaldesire]

PCOS TMI

Zoloft kicked my ass.

Been getting a headache almost every day since I stopped the Zoloft. My period also ended after like 2 days of bleeding. When I went to the doctor last week for about $200 of visit and tests, she said it didn’t matter what birth control I was on and she gently forced me to say I’d go to a specialist since she is a General Practitioner and I have a very specialized disease and I think she thinks I’m being non-compliant because I gained weight so she’d rather not treat me.

So sure, I’ll go find another doctor with my no income, no insurance, no time and see if they will treat my disease the way I want/need because I can’t find someone cheap to listen to me.

Loestrin(Junel) 1.5/30 has given me really terrible side effects of PMDD and an odd bleeding cycle and fucks with my hormones too much. The symptoms it gave me forced me to take extra Saw Palmetto to counter the excess testosterone and Zoloft to counter the PMDD symptoms. I’ve also never had cramps associated with a period and I think I had very mild cramps the other day.

OrthoCyclen? Sprintec worked fine, but it gave me severe PMS, another thing I’ve never had before. I asked to be put back on that and the doctor told me no.

What I want is a birth control that works, or no birth control at all. I think I want Spironolactone because Yasmin is the birth control that worked before and it had a Spiro-like hormone in it.

Zoloft kicked my ass hard. First day my body felt weird and I had insomnia but was exhausted. Eventually I stopped taking it because my period was about to start and I spent two days laying in bed, too tired to function but unable to sleep. Just watched TV and Youtube while drifting in and out of sleep. I also had weakness and excessive yawning and other shit that made me feel super weird. So I’d rather not have to deal with those symptoms if at all possible.

But, you know, doctors wanna tell me they know everything about what my body is doing and what is normal and ignore the things I actually say and know what is wrong.

(The worst is using my creativity and writing as a metric for how bad I am responding to the drugs. Because everyone thinks that’s insane. But I’ve been pretty creative when not on the birth control or on something that works for me. But again, what the hell do I know.)

[sub1120]

This is About a... Move, Pt. 1

This shit really pisses me off. Yet here I am, doing it again. I am exhausted yet I haven’t done very much of anything today. I can and will be exhausted from doing absolutely nothing. Don’t get me wrong, I walked around my apartment and threw some stuff in some boxes and I made a lot of phone calls today but that’s it. I think I fell asleep around 11:30 last night, woke up at 4 something, fell back asleep and woke up around 5:30a. I tried to go back to sleep about 30 minutes later and it wasn’t happening. I got on my laptop to type something up on here, look around.... started nodding off. I also can and will nod off while doing something productive. Closed the laptop, laid my head down and didn’t wake up again until 11:30a. I think I got around 11-12 hours. That’s great for me, 10-13 hours is what I need to not nod off during the first 5 hours that I’m awake but I’ll still be groggy as hell. I needed an energy drink but I didn’t want to walk or drive to the gas station. Yes, the gas station is close enough for me to walk to. The thought of leaving my house today was not processing as anything positive. I haven’t done anything strenuous and I got 11 hours of sleep but leaving my house was just fucking impossible. Only others like me will know what I mean.

I was hoping to have a good day today. I got enough sleep for it. My brain/bodies not having it. I want to go back to sleep now but it’s 9:15p and I’ve packed half of one moving box. I have 10 other boxes packed from other days that my brain/body would allow me to be productive but yet, I’m still not done and I’m still not moving. I’m fucking exhausted and that sounds insane, I just don’t know if there’s a way to make that part of myself better. I talk to people about my sleep patterns and exhaustion and I get a bunch of mixed reactions. I have friends who have kids who will talk with me about how tired we are and how much it sucks but who are really thinking I don’t have a legitimate reason to be tired, people who think taking vitamins will help me (I’m already taking vitamins), people who tell me to just go to bed earlier. Simple right. People who ask me that the hell is wrong with me and I tell them I don’t fucking know.

I’ve gone back and forth on the idea that it has something to do with my thyroid but that’s been tested a few times now and I’ve been told it’s not. My job is exhausting but I will agree with some people, I do not have kids so I don’t know what the parent version of being tired feels like but the people who have that judgment about me don’t know what the Bipolar version of tired feels like either. I’m not talking about pregnant people in general because there are bipolar people who have kids. Just referring to people directly linked to me. I will say tho that I’ve noticed Bipolar people have to take more naps. Just an opinion and just based off people I know. Kids can wear you out from running around after them, entertaining them, tending after them in general but you may not be a naturally tired person. I can barely do that. I don’t have the energy to even run out of energy. That’s the difference.

Yes I work. I get up and go to work. I have to set 2 alarms. I fall back asleep sitting on the edge of my bed and even though I would normally take 2 hours to get ready, I end up only giving myself 30 minutes to get ready and leave the house. I pick up clothes off the floor, sometimes out of the closet. I don’t do my makeup and I almost never have time to eat. I get breakfast delivered sometimes but that shit is annoyingly expensive. Especially since I already do that for dinner. Going to the grocery store gives me terrible anxiety and no one understands that. I can barely stand in the fucking check out line. I grip the handle bar of the grocery cart so hard sometimes cause I just need to make it thru the store without crying or something. My mom used to think it was so cute and funny to tell her friends that “my daughter can’t even go in the grocery store without me”. She needs me to need her but that’s a whole other story. A parent should never take joy in the fact that their kid is terrified to go in public places. Trust me, i’m a grown ass woman and will go in the damn grocery store by myself now if I need to but i’d rather not.

Me getting to work is difficult, actually working is difficult... doing nothing is difficult. It doesn’t make sense but it does based off of my mental state. I haven’t read any articles recently on why my disorder is making me so tired but it’s another one of things. Just like my disorder in itself. It doesn’t make sense to people because they can’t really “see it” so I cant really explain it. It barely makes sense to me. I think some would go as far as calling me lazy. Maybe this is just some fucked up sub-version of lazy. I don’t necessarily want to go 3 days without taking a shower or brushing my teeth or weeks without washing my hair. Sometimes I would like to make myself dinner but I will just sit there and stare at the skillet for hours and either get really angry and end up ordering food or I just go to bed. It’s almost like actually being paralyzed.

I’ve been better about the shower thing lately because showers have been calming me but other than that, I’ve been bumming it hard. I rarely look put together unless I have a few hours to start and stop and start getting ready over and over again. This is what i’m doing now with this fucking move. Just picking things up here and there. It’s 10 o clock at night, my ‘insomnia after dark part of me’ will kick in and I’m going to try again, to get something done. This move tomorrow is going to be disastrous.

[alia-turin]

This chapter is a bit darker, after all things happen after Noct had already disappeared and we all know how the world looks after that. The game doesn’t really touch (even Comrades) on a lot of the things I imagine happen in Lestallum, like provision shortages etc so I kind of tried to add that here. Hope y’all enjoy, Sorry for the angst. 

Fic Title: Back to Life Chapter number: Act IV Previous Chapters: Act I, Act II, Act III Rating/Warnings: M (sex, swearing, drinking, Tredd) Pairing: Tredd x Reader Summary: Reader has nice a career and wants to grow it, relationships are not her thing so meeting Tredd at a bar turns out to be exactly what she needs after a long day at work. Notes: Story  moves to Lestallum, Noct is already gone so the world is sinking into darkness. I always wanted more canon info on how Lestallum was operating, for the normal people, refugees etc. not just the game characters since I cannot imagine it was a fun place considering everything.

If you feel like supporting this writer consider buying me a coffee: Ko-Fi

Tagging: @birdsandivory @lazarustrashpit @jojopitcher @yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy @kairakara101 @ladychocoberry @demidemon09  @mysticrainpain @mp938368

It has been one of these long days that you wanted to end as soon as it started. Not that it really mattered, every single day in Lestallum for the past year or so has been the exact same thing. Ever since the darkness happened and people started barricading the city. Going out wasn’t safe and nobody did it unless they had to. Staying in was an absolutely nightmare. It was safe, but wherever you went it was the same faces and you can see the hope vanishing from their eyes with every single day. People had even stopped asking where the young king was.

You were sitting in one of the tents rolling bandages, it was the only thing you had the strength to do. That was your new profession, not rolling bandages but you had learned thing or two about nursing. As it turns out nobody needed an interior designer when the world was ending. Another reminder for you how unprepared you were for a life like that. You often wondered what the point of all that was, you haven’t seen the sun more than two months and it seemed like it would never come around again. At first Lestallum had been a shelter, a place where you hoped that eventually you might rebuild life, but what happens when all life was dying? Lestallum was safe, but you helped in the clinic, you knew what the hunters, crownsguard and leftovers of the glaive were saying. The world was falling into ruins.

At first when you moved to Lestallum you thought you would miss the luxuries in life. Having nice hot bath, gym, hairstylist and clothes that costed more than they should. It wasn’t that, these things are easy to live without after couple of months. The routine was killing you. Nothing was happening. Same people, tired of what life had served them. Sure, every day in the clinic was different. Today someone had broken an arm, the next day someone would come with the flu. But that wasn’t life. Loneliness. That was probably the worst part of it. You never managed to make friends in Lestallum, and everybody you knew from before that was dead. Including him, that bastard.

On days like that you often caught yourself thinking about him. Maybe he got the better deal at the end anyway. He wasn’t sitting here rolling bandages until it was dinner time because there was nothing better to do. Probably lambs at a slaughter house felt better than you since lambs didn’t know what was happening to them, you were aware that if nothing changed, sooner or later you all would be going to the slaughter house.

Your thoughts went to him again. He would call you a spoiled brat and tell you to get a hold of yourself. He has always been right you were a spoiled brat. The only reason you managed to get to Lestallum in the first place is because he told you to do so and you were just stuck here when the darkness came. In a sense he had saved your life and you hated him. Not for saving you but for even having the need to be saved. He was one of the many reasons you were where you were and if he hadn’t died you were going to kill him.

The bandage you were rolling had long been rolled and you left it in the box with the rest. You didn’t want to think about that anymore. You haven’t thought about him in days and now all your thoughts and feelings were rolling in your head like avalanche. Did you still love him? Maybe the thought of him, but you also hated what he did.

You were distracted by shouting coming from outside and decided to check. Maybe there was finally something happening in the monotone day of Lestallum.

You walked just in time to say that Libertus was one of the people shouting, there was a man in front of him that was obviously on the receiving end. Couple more glaives were around them. As you started coming closer, you saw Libertus punching the other man in the gut. The man made a step backwards, his body bending from the hit.

“You were always a stupid dick, Libertus.” The man said and you froze. You were probably going insane, that voice…no it couldn’t be. He was dead. Libertus had seen it, he told you he was dead.

Then the man straightened himself and jumped on Libertus, the other glaives grabbed him and you could finally see him…It was Tredd. Stubble was covering his face and he seemed like he had lost some weight but it was him. He tried to fight the glaives that were holding him, he tried to fight his way to Libertus but it didn’t work.

“Why don’t you tell them to let go of me, huh?” Tredd spat on the ground in front of Lib’s feet. “You are afraid I will rip your fuckin head off. Not so brave when Nyx is not around to save your ass, are you?”

“I don’t have time to deal with you.” Libertus eventually said and started walking away. “Stay around, I’m sure the Marshal would love to chat with you.”

“Yeah I’d gladly tell him as well where he can stick it.” Tredd shouted as the glaives let go of him.

You were standing there finding it hard to believe what was happening. Why was that happening? How was it happening? Tredd noticed you eventually and just stared at you as well.

“Fucking finally someone who is happy to see me.” He said and walked towards you but as soon as he reached you, you slapped him as hard as you could, tears running down your eyes. “What is your fucking problem, what is everyone’s fucking problem?”

“You were dead!” you shouted at him and tried to clean the wetness of your face. It wasn’t tears of grief or happiness, it was tears for everything that had happened so far. Him dying, your life being taken away, living one day for the next without knowing when a demon would just breach the city.

“So, I have been told, feel pretty alive.” he chuckled but there was something sad in his smile. “Come on, I need a rundown on what is happening. I feel like I have massive memory loss.”

You just stared at him wanting to slap him again for your broken heart. You mourned him. You cried for him, and now he was here acting as if he has no idea what was happening. He got you all in that!

You just walked toward the place that you were calling home and you heard his steps after you. He was fucking dead, how was he walking and talking. Sure, there were a lot of people who had vanished under Insomnia and appeared later but…weeks later, not almost two years. Not after someone had seen their dead body. Was Libertus lying? Why would he lie?

Your new home was in one of the older buildings of Lestallum, very small apartment, but it wasn’t like you owned anything to put in it. Just some clothes and that was it.

“You have certainly downgraded.” Tredd said as he walked in and you regretted not having a weapon to just kill him on the spot.

“And whose fault is that?” you kicked one of the two chairs as an invitation for him to sit, he didn’t but you did. “Welcome to my new life, you will be happy to hear I don’t have thirty pairs of overly expensive shoes or a whole drawer with make up. Oh also occasionally I don’t have a meal for couple of days because delivery trucks get attacked by demons and the city is not yet fully self sufficient.”

“How is any of that my fault?” Tredd said absolutely innocent even a bit hurt.

“Really, Tredd? You recall trying to kill the king or something of these lines?” you couldn’t believe it. He had always been stubborn ignorant asshole, but that was beyond him.

“First of all, it was the Captain who did the killing I was otherwise occupied. Second I have massive memory loss and I have no idea what happened between that night in Insomnia and literary three days ago when I just woke up on the side of a road.” He came closer to you grabbing your hands in his almost gently. “Third, if my calculations are correct, I have been out of things for months and judging by the feeling of my balls I haven’t fucked anything in that time so…”

“You should have stayed dead.” You said quietly and pulled your hands away from his. As soon as the words left your mouth you regretted them, but it was too late already.

“Stop being such a bitch? What have I done to you? I told you to leave town, you would be fucking dead if it wasn’t for me.” He got up obviously angry. “Why did I even think you’d be happy to see me? You are most likely riding every fucking cock in that city from the moment you arrived.”

“I mourned you!” you got up kicking the chair behind. “I waited for you, then I started hearing stories about what the Kingsglaive did. About what you did. Then one day I met Libertus and he told me that he saw you dead. Until that moment I was hoping you are alive and just hiding somewhere, but then I realized you were just dead. I mourned you, Tredd, I cried, my heart was broken. I hated you for what you did then I forgave you, then the sun was gone and I hated you again. I tried to forget you. To move on…” your voice broke. Tears were running down your face again and he was just standing there like a statue. “Get out of here!” you shouted at him not wanting to show weakness.

“You know what?” his voice was calm but you could feel the anger. “Fuck you. Go back to riding Libertus’ dick or whoever else you are fucking, I’m done with your ass.”

“I’m not fucking anybody, you ignorant piece of shit!” you shouted after him as he shut the door behind himself.

 Time moved even slower and more painful in Lestallum. Somehow Tredd was always in front of your eyes and people were making sure to point that out to you. You wanted to avoid him, but was impossible. You knew about everything he was doing without actually wanting to find that out. Apparently Libertus brought him to the Marshal. There were several conflicting stories how that went down, and people made sure to tell you every single one of them despite you protesting it. Regardless of what happened in that room, at all ended with Tredd joining the Kingsglaive again. Good for him you thought and returned to your monotone duties in the clinic.

Then it was all the talk about the girls he was flirting on or sleeping with. People would tell you who was the girl they saw him with and then give you the ‘I’m so sorry look’. You weren’t sure if you hated him more or the people who somehow thought that was information you wanted to hear. Turns out you never managed to move on from him, it was just easier not to think about his sorry ass when he was presumed dead. But now he was here, doing what Tredd did and you wished more often than not for a demon to breach these walls and eat him alive. At least like that you can return to silent mourning.

One day as you were walking in the examination room in the clinic, if that tent could be called a room at all, you saw him sitting there, there was a long deep cut on his arm.

“I will call someone else.” You said as your eyes met.

“Why? Scared you will start crying?” he teased you and look for the closest pair of scissors that you can shove in his eye.

“How did that happen.” You were trying to keep your voice completely flat as you reached for bandages and something to clean the wound. It would need stitches as well which was great news since you were low painkillers.

“You know, saving the world.” He chuckled and you raised an eyebrow. It was his fucking fault the world needed saving to begin with. He flinched as you started cleaning the wound but didn’t say anything. Part of you expected that he would call you a bitch and accuse you of causing him pain on purpose, but he didn’t. Tredd just accepted it.

“Heard the Marshal pardoned you.” You said as you started stitching the wound. He was still holding well even if it was obvious he was feeling pain.

“No, he wanted to kill me. Libertus defended me and vouched for me, no idea why.” That was something you didn’t know. “He said I’m useful in a fight and should atone for what I have done. As if I care, ouch!” he shouted as you stuck the needle harder than before. “At first I thought he was really fucking you that’s why he is trying to save my ass.”

“How did you even reach to that conclusion? The only reason I ever talked to Libertus because I saw him in his uniform and wanted to ask what had happened to you. That’s how I met him, the only times he talks to me is when he needs something from the clinic.” You sighed and started bandaging his arm. You had no straight to fight him.

“I was pissed okay?” he raised his voice and you just gave him a tired look. “You said he told you I was dead, and I am obviously not dead. You were angry at me for no reason. I thought…”

“You thought what Tredd? That he seduced me while I was crying over you? Between trying to figure out my life and sobbing over your ass I haven’t had time to figure out who would be invited between my legs.” you checked the bandage and got off the chair you were sitting on. “You are done, you can go. It needs to be changed tomorrow, so make sure you stop by.” You turned around and you were about to leave as he grabbed you by the wrist and squeezed hard. “You are hurting me.” You turned around and looked at him, he wasn’t saying anything, just looking at you and holding your wrist firmly. “Tredd, let go of me.” You repeated trying to free your hand, but you couldn’t.

Eventually he did and started walking toward the exit but then stopped, turned around and pushed you against the examination table making you sit on it.

“Tredd, stop what are you doing…” you moaned as he kissed you and moved his hands on your ass pulling you closer to him.

“Fixing things by trying to fuck you.” He mumbled in your kiss as he started undoing his pants.

“Who said I want you to fuck me?” you said as you pulled your lips away from his, your hands were helping him pull his pants down. “That won’t fix…” you moaned.

“Stop me then.” You didn’t stop him. You are angry with him for everything he had done and messing up your life but you still wanted him and loved him. Funny how two years of living on the essentials makes you brave enough to admit your own feelings at least in front of yourself.

You help him pull his pants down, then you both managed to take yours off and without waiting any further he started fucking you there in the examination room. You moaned louder with each thrust, it has been such a long time and you missed him, feeling him close to you and inside you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder pulling him closer and you had to dig your teeth in his t-shirt since you were getting too loud.

“Fuck, forgot how nice you feel.” He groaned as he picked up his pace pushing you into an orgasm. It has been too long, that made it too easy for to push you over the end. Took him a bit longer to follow you but once he came he didn’t move, you were both just standing there, his arms around your waist, yours around his shoulders.

As soon as some logical thought appeared in your head you knew that was a mistake. Your problems weren’t going to be fixed with sex, although you had to admit you did feel a bit better now. You had to say something, you had to talk to him because he wasn’t going to do it. You doubted that dead made him more aware of his own emotions.

Eventually he pulled out slowly and started buttoning his pants. You did the same in complete silence, words just didn’t come to your mind. You wanted him back, but you weren’t going to beg for it.

“I will see you around when I come for the bandage tomorrow.” He walked toward the entrance and stopped again. You saw his whole body move as he took a deep breath, held it and then his shoulders sank as if he wanted to say something else, but never did.

You stood there alone realizing that you just made a bigger mess than you had before. You should have either tried to patch things up or end them once and for all but not fuck him just for the sake of fucking him.

“Fuck!” you slammed the table in frustration, your hand hurt but you didn’t care. Apparently, you haven’t grown as much as you thought as a person. What was the purpose of admitting in front of yourself that you loved him, if you couldn’t tell him that. Of course there was the small detail that you were talking about Tredd after all, and saying stuff like I love you was going to force him to make ten offensive jokes and probably pretend to be dead again.