#not really sure where I’m going with this but I’m sleep deprived so please forgive me

[galaxymagitech]

Me when Anton turns out to be Charles Knight’s son: …

[spunkymoth]

Chapter VII - The Chariot, Nightmares 

The sound of a door shutting rouses me to wakefulness, throat dry and head muggy from sleep. 

I walk sleepily into the kitchen, glancing around.  

I don’t see Mazelinka anywhere. It looks like she must have left for the day already. 

Dawn is just brushing its fingers against the horizon, little slivers of light performing morning stretches. 

I settle down at the table with a sigh, staring down at the wood grain as my brain tries to catch up to my body. 

“N-no- please-” 

…? 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-” 

A loud thud sounds from the bedroom. I hop to my feet, hardly thinking, and pull the curtains back. 

Julian drops his head back to the floor with a groan, tangled in the sheets and face white as a ghost lily.  

He lifts his hangdog gaze to me, and gives me a wry smile, sweat beading his brow. 

“MC...Did I wake you?” 

“I … sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” 

I reach out and grab his arm, helping untangle him from the bedsheets. This close, I can feel the tension in his body. 

He’s trembling, not quite meeting my eyes. Like he thinks maybe he can hide it from me. 

“It sounded like you were having a nightmare.” 

“Did it?” 

“That would be... because I was. Having a nightmare, that is.” 

He swallows and drops down to the edge of the bed, slumping as he rests his elbows on his knees. 

“Seems silly in the light of day. Or, er...dawn. It wasn’t real...” 

“Was it?” 

“Ahem. Why were you out of bed?” 

“You’re trying to change the subject.” 

“I heard you talking in your sleep. And you’re still shaking.” 

“What, shaking? Nonsense, I’m a doctor. My hands are as sure as death and taxes.” 

I reach out, taking one of his hands in my own to confirm my suspicions.  

Whatever he dreamed, it’s shaken his cool resolve. He tries to tug his hand away, but I don’t let go. 

“I told you, it’s nothing. It wasn’t real, I have no reason to be upset.” 

I settle down on the bed beside him. He’s all nerves, jumping a little as I sidle closer. 

“I can’t hide anything from those piercing eyes, hm? Don’t know why I bothered in the first place.” 

“...Do you believe in forgiveness?” 

“Forgiveness?” 

Where is this coming from? Whatever he dreamed... it must have really shaken him. 

He looks like a spring too tightly coiled, all tension points. 

“Do you think...that even truly heinous things can be forgiven?” 

“Or are there some things you don’t get to come back from?” 

“You can come back.” 

Maybe it’s not the answer Julian wants to hear... or the answer I want to give. 

There are some things no one can forgive. That’s the painful truth. 

...But you can’t stop your life because of it. You can’t stay frozen forever. 

“You can always come back.” 

“If I could just remember... then I would know. If what I’ve done is something unforgivable.” 

“What will you do if it is?” 

“I-” 

“If I can’t make it right... then I’ll take whatever punishment I deserve. Without question.” 

“Well isn’t this a dour conversation. Ahh, don’t mind me, Orion. It’s just the sleep deprivation talking.” 

“Five cups of coffee and I’ll get the pep back in my step.” 

The tension hasn’t eased from his shoulders, but if he doesn’t want to talk, I can’t exactly force him. 

Still, there are other things I can do to help. 

“So... What’s the world like, outside Vesuvia?” 

“Ahh. Haven’t had much cause to travel, MC?” 

Julian relaxes back against the wall at the head of the bed, and gives me a tired smile. 

“I’ve been all over. What do you want to hear about? The pirate ships that plague the Frozen Sea?” 

“Or maybe the Priestlords of Firent? Ahh. I could tell you tales of the Floating City of Hjalle-” 

“Maybe not that one. It’s a little... compromising.” 

“Where did you grow up?” 

“Hrrmm? Where I...?” 

“... Little town south of here, in the salt flats. Nevivon.” 

“Ah, Nevivon. Known for its saltwater hot springs. Healthiest bath you’ll ever take.” 

“Haven’t been back for a spell. And since Pasha left... not much reason to return.” 

“Ah! I know. How about the time I accidentally stole a pregnant war elephant?” 

“As long as you promise to still respect me, after.” 

Julian pats the space beside him, then wraps and arm around my shoulders as I settle by his side. 

Then he launches into the story, his warm voice slowly lulling me back to sleep... 

Sunlight dapples my face as a little bird chirps a cheerful tune on the windowsill, rousing me. 

...It seems the bird is my only companion. Julian’s gone, a depression on the bed the only trace he was ever there. 

Not here either... I’m alone in the house. 

Did he slip away after I fell asleep? Is he coming back? 

I slowly drop to sit at the table, confusion gripping me. Things were going well, weren’t they? 

“Oh. You’re, er, already up.” 

“Listen, MC, We... need to talk.” 

Oh no. Nothing good ever comes from that phrase. I eye him warily, folding my arms. 

“Alright...” 

“Good, good, But, er, not here. Let’s go to the market, shall we? More places to talk.” 

“After you, my dear.” 

Julian leads me away from the outskirts of the district and deeper into his part of town, an arm hooked in mine. 

We eventually emerge from the twisting alleys into a sidestreet bustling with market-goers, noisy and crowded. 

It’s not much like the market near my shop. Instead of dedicated stalls, it looks like a regular street has been converted. 

“MC...About the talk-” 

“Ah! Wait, I nearly forgot. First things first.” 

“Mazelinka left a shopping list for us. Just a few ingredients to pick up.” 

“Pickled tingleberry... Charred newt flesh... Articulated goosewart...” 

“She uses them for her folk remedies. Most effective pep-up soup I’ve ever had. And I’ve had a lot of soup.” 

I recognize those ingredients, though not for folk remedies. 

“Does Mazelinka practice magic? These are all spell ingredients.” 

“What? These things? Nonsense. They’re ingredients for medicines. Effective ones, too.” 

“These are definitely magical. We keep some of these at the shop.” 

“It’s not magic. No one chanted nonsense from a fancy but ominous tome. There were no glowing circles and weird runes.” 

“No one bled.” 

Is that what Julian thinks magic is? He looks distinctly uncomfortable with the prospect of Mazelinka casting magic.  

“Does magic bother you?” 

“I- errrr. Of course not.” 

“It’s just...” 

“I don’t... understand it. Never have.” 

“But these remedies, I understand. You mix things together, chop them up, and they work.” 

“Or they don’t, and you try something different.” 

“Well... it might not be this way for everyone, but for me, magic’s the same.” 

“Some things work. Some don’t. But you keep trying until you find what does.” 

“...Where have I heard that before?” 

“Ahh, doesn’t matter. Look at you, knowing things. And me, all I know is that I don’t know.” 

“So, MC, about that talk-” 

“Jules, that you?? Ain’t seen you in the city fer years, y’old dog! What’re you doin’ here, eh??” 

“Tilde! Good to see you. How’s the wife? Still having those headaches?” 

The woman who called out to us scoffs, waving her hand vaguely as she shoulders her leech sack. 

“She’s doin’ fine. Still talkin’ ‘bout moving to Prakra. What’re we gonna do that for, they don’t got a leech market there...” 

Julian takes my hand, pulling me further into the crowds. Merchants and shoppers alike continue to call out to him as we pass. 

“So, listen. We need to-” 

“Watch it! Comin’ through! Biscuits, get back here!” 

A tiny urchin barrels past us, chasing a ragged looking dog down the street as it howls. 

They push against me as they run, catching me off balance. 

Time seems to slow as I fall backwards, heading directly for a rickety fruit cart. The collision is inevitable.  

And then I hit a broad chest, and the scent of leather and musk washes over me as we both stumble backwards. 

Julian hits the ground with a grunt, arms wrapped around me to break my fall.  

“Oof! MC, you alri-” 

“Ohhhhhh no-” 

We both watch the cart beside us wobble, an apple in the corner of the stack threatening to break free. 

It hits the ground in front of us, rolling to a stop as it hits Julian’s foot. 

“Ohhh, that’s going to hurt-” 

“Watch out for-” 

Julian rolls us, blocking the collapsing cart from hitting me with his body, and lets out a grunt. 

“Are you alright? Nothing hit you, did it?” 

He pulls me to my feet and dusts me off, hovering over me like a worried mother hen. 

“Now, isn’t this a mess... Looks like I’m buying a fruit stand today.” 

He rummages around in his cloak, and then pulls out a nondescript burlap bag that jingles with the clink of coin.  

“Er, do you take Galbradine dubloons? Or Hjallen drakr?” 

I stare in fascination as he pours a pile of foreign currency out in front of the harried fruit vendor. 

There must be a small fortune contained in that bag. 

“Well, that takes care of that... Free fruit! Come get your free fruit everyone!” 

A ravenous crowd descends on the bruised fruit, quickly clearing the streets of any last remnant. 

Julian takes my hand, and pulls me out of the throng and into a side street, then begins to check me over for injuries. 

“Julian...” 

“Mmhmrhm, yep? You weren’t hurt, were you? Everything still where it should be?” 

“I’m sorry about that. Should have mentioned the streets can get rowdy.” 

“Ah! I know, I’ll make it up to you. This next place is sure to knock your socks off.” 

“Nice little teahouse, just down the way, We can sit there and... talk. It’s cozy, you’ll like it.” 

He leads me away from the market, and off deeper into the city, my hand still clasped in his. 

[reap-the-game]

captainqster:

Bored! She went on to speak her displeasure and Ren watched her over his shoulder, then snickered and turned back around. Was that it, then? Did her persuasion make the whole male debacle so utterly unattractive that she had no interest? He knew very well what sweating, grunting men looked like.

And he was not completely put off by it. At times the power and muscle in a man were appreciated, but certainly his appreciation would be less complicated and more frequent if not for his experiences. Women, too, had such a shape about them as to demand an appraising eye. He could only assume by the way she spoke that she much preferred the aesthetic of the fairer sex. Exclusively, even.

“Little charm? Then I’m safer here with you than I originally thought.”

If she found no charm in his form, no interest in having him grunt and sweat atop her as she’d watched her crew done to another, then he had no worry. Aside from her going back on her word. Aside from her crew discovering that she had no intention of getting any use out of him while depriving them of it. Aside from fumbling the one chance to escape he would be given.

Yes, aside from those he had no worries.

She confirmed his suspicions, though, in that another had taken his place. He listened to this with a surprising—or unsurprising, depending on who you were—lack of distress. One night spared. One more, maybe two; if he could continue to sit under the radar then his freedom would come. Would they continue going at the same man who’d taken his fate last night or pick another? Keep their selections fresh?

As long as it wasn’t him. Just not him, even if they had missed him, as she said. Was she teasing him? Had they commented on it? Had she sat there and watched this ‘pretty’ replacement take and take while comparing his face to Ren’s?

Had she thought of him all night?

And why the strange relief that she’d not taken part in things? It seemed to go beyond his own aversion to being made to serve, but he couldn’t quite place it. Maybe the image of the dusk-haloed captain didn’t reconcile with that of a woman engaging in such group-driven ribaldry.

“My condolences to the poor bastard saddled with their company,��� he told her, still too tired to watch his tongue as he ought to. “I assume they’ll forgive me for not missing them in return.”

But she was…talking to him. He’d almost expected her to treat him with chilly silence after the way she’d behaved last night, or leave him tied to the partition again with nowhere to go, no way to stretch, yet here she came, startling him with her sudden movement. Ren sat obediently as she undid his manacles. No kicking, no glaring; he only looked up at her from where he sat, his face recipient to the warmth that radiated from her thighs and hips. His skin soaked it up greedily.

She must have been quite comfortable in her bed, her body heat permeating the sheets and blanket until they became a cozy cocoon—while he sat awake all night as the ocean’s chill soaked through the windowpanes and his thin clothing. He watched her toss the manacles onto the bed. Would he rather be there on the soft mattress, warmed by her and its linens if it meant the metal that bound him were fastened around her bedpost rather than here?

No, not really. She was undeniably beautiful, her figure any man’s temptation, but Ren was still too soured by the way he’d been taken and the threats that filled his ears on the way to her ship. All he hoped from her was this: to be kept from her men and to be allowed to make his escape. That she talked to him now, even asked after his sleep, already surpassed those frugal hopes.

“I didn’t wonder. But if they ask, I will be sure to tell them all about your monstrous appetite in bed, how sore my jaw is from pleasing you, so on and so forth.”

Ah, his stomach was so empty. A few bites of an apple after a day of battle weren’t enough to sustain anyone, much less someone with his size and build. He blew a long lock of white hair from his face as he rubbed the feeling back into his wrists, wrinkling his nose at the rope-and-metal marks left behind, and glanced up at the sound of a cork being dislodged from its bottle. What was she, an alcoholic? Hardly unusual for a pirate.

Standing, he at last stretched and rolled his neck with a groan.

"Do I look so terrible?”

reap-the-game:

Her look held an edge of curiosity at his comment of being even safer with her than he thought he had when he’d only had her promise. Whatever question and confusion it had brought up in her, though, she did not voice, merely mentally shrugged it off as a not too pressing concern.

But in the privacy of her own mind she did muse on it a little. Was he comparing himself to her men and the way they quite dominated their victim of the time, looking as if they were trying to fuck the poor bastard through the floorboards? Whether they were rough because they liked it so, or if it was simply peer pressure making them behave thus, she had no idea and no desire to find out. They could have their fun within the rules of don’t break the merchandise—in body; the spirit mattered little—in whatever way they saw fit, no matter their reasons for it.

Was he under some impression that she, even had she planned to take him to her bed, would have allowed anything along those lines? Wasn’t the far more sensible expectation that she would have dominated him in whatever way she saw fit, keeping him at the bottom, at her mercy? What in the heavens would have ever compelled her to give him even a smidge of power or control in such a situation?

But that was neither here nor there, when they were going to do nothing along those lines. He would retain his status as unmolested, and she would lose none for it when forcing him into something could never have brought her any enjoyment. Why, though? Simply because of her damned affection for his race, or for the fact she had never forced herself on anyone? Had no desire to? Were it a moral matter, surely she would have tried prevent others from going through it, or at the very least ruled against on her ship.

She did not, though. She did not care—not enough to stop it, and not enough to do it.

Perhaps that simply had something to do with wanting to subject herself to no more of what her life was composed of for such a long time. Hadn’t she had her fill for several lifetimes? Did others not lack all appeal, when the other option was to touch no one? In all ways but physical, she had walled her body off from others, no longer to do the bidding of whoever paid the price that night.

He seemed… Quite similarly unconcerned with what was going on elsewhere on the ship, what suffering someone else was put through. Clearly he had everything against being put through it himself, but when it was someone else?

Ren did not seem to care.

And Giovanna could approve of that manner of… Pragmatism. Selfishness, some might call it, but what did she care even if it was that? It was still the wisest course, no matter what. What even was the alternative? To throw yourself to the wolves just to save the hide of a stranger?

Who in their right mind would ever do that?

She snorted at his ‘condolences’, the note of the sound decidedly amused. Against her will, she would point out. She didn’t want him to amuse her, but how else to react to his flippancy? “I’m sure they will,” Giovanna drawled in response. Certainly a bunch of pirates should hold no illusions as to how pleasant company most would consider them.

No, let the lot of them embrace how utterly unpleasant most saw them as. Plundering, murdering, raping good-for-nothings, every last one of them. There was no need to pretend otherwise.

And then there was Ren, promising so to keep up their charade should the need arise. A surprised laugh was torn from her before she could do anything to stop herself, and that was before his words properly sank in. Her monstrous appetite? Ren with a sore jaw?

She didn’t want to laugh, and still another guffaw made its way out before she could grab the bottle she’d only just set down, trying to distract herself with its contents.

All her attempt to have a drink led to was a coughing fit when swallowing and snickering coincided at the worst time. So there she was, caught between laughing and coughing and doing the poorest job of both. At least she managed to growl out a, “Damn you,” heartily cursing him as the source of all her woes. Especially the most current one.

Somehow it lacked the appropriate aggression, though.

Giovanna collapsed onto the chair facing him once she managed to save herself from choking to death. Her shoulders still shook, though, no matter how she tried to quiet every snicker that wanted to rise. What even was so amusing about it? When she didn’t want to encourage her men’s thoughts any?

Was it just the thought of Ren cooperating in that manner? That instead of busting her image as a ruthless pirate captain by revealing she had not, in fact, touched him, he would rather keep up their ruse? For whose benefit? What would he get out of it except embarrassment?

Oh, her throat hurt and her voice sounded a little hoarse when she answered his question regarding how he looked. “A bit ragged,” was her assessment of his current state. Torn shirt and all else aside, he had the look of one suffering from a touch of sleep deprivation.

She eyed his wrists while trying to ease the roughness of her throat with another gulp. Luckily this one didn’t lead to more coughing. “At least you’re not like to get more scars from this—provided you make your great escape unscathed, anyway. I’d say you already have enough.” Uncomfortable as ropes and manacles were sure to be, the marks on him didn’t look permanent, so far. Certainly nothing comparable to whatever had to have led to the many scars littering his body. She found herself eyeing them again, a thoughtful little frown forming on her brow.

But for the life of her she could not guess what had happened to him, no matter how she tried to decipher the story they told.

At least she had no plans to leave him with anything lasting to add to the canvas. Whether he would get injured when trying to run once they reached land again… That was entirely out of her hands. She would give him a chance. All the rest would be up to him.

[imthefemalemonster]

Hey! I don't know if you write a/b/o universe, (but I'll try my luck) so could I get an imagine/oneshot nsfw Alpha Daemon x Omega fem reader, where reader goes into heat, but Daem had to leave ( maybe solve some issues for Viserys) and he will take some time to come back, in the meantime Rhae Rhae (who is a beta) and has a sincere friendship with reader takes care of her (in the sense of caring and not in the sexual sense) so her heat passes and Daem comes back, but Reader is mad at him for leaving her alone while he's going through this (since it's her first heat she's been through alone), so he tries to talk to her, but she won't. Days pass and they finally talk, to which she cries and says how painful it was, he apologizes and makes it up to her, please? (with angst and fluff and if you can write down the moments of care that Rhae Rhae has for her, I will be extremely grateful)

Hello beautiful - I sure do! I’m not really an expert in it since I don’t read/write much of it but still hope you like it. ♡

***

⸻Set Me Free

Daemon Targaryen x Female!Reader (A/B/O - Angst Smut Fluff)

⸻Summary: Nothing could have prepared you for your first heat, especially not the absence of your husband. Your close and loving friend Rhaenyra stays at your side, but you won't forgive Daemon so easily as you ensure he makes it up to you.

Tags: A/B/O, Fluff, Angst, Smut, With Plot, PIV, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, (f receiving), Kisses & Hugs, Multiple Orgasms, Aftercare, No use of Y/N, No beta I'm sleep deprived

⸻Read on Ao3

Notes: More Daemon x Fem!Reader, I’m very brainrot and definitely love to write it ~ The filth is at the end - I made the fic so you can read the smut or angst/fluff as a standalone since there’s a time skip! (smut after “***”)

Changed a bit the tropes of A/B/O for the sake of the fic.

Requested by anon, hope you like it. ♡

Tumblr for ideas/requests: @imthefemalemonster

Smut & fluff prompts: here & here

⸻Words: 6108 (Smut part ~ 2k7)

No words could fit the feeling. Nothing would be precise enough to describe it. The bed shifted as you weight left it, but the second your toes hit the floor, you felt like it gave away under your feet. Despite all the things you were told about, everything you read, living through the very first heat was much worse than you could ever hope for it to be. As an omega, you made sure to know everything about heat, especially after you presented and married your Alpha, the well-known Prince Daemon Targaryen. Thinking about it had made you anxious more than once, but yet you were well surrounded and Daemon reassured you that he would guide you with every step.

A soft gasp left your lips as you stumbled, your hands reaching for nothing, the floor dangerously close. Your knees failed you as you sensed the cold floor against your burning skin. You couldn’t tell how many seconds or even minutes passed since you left the bed. Your skin was set ablaze the moment you moved and the only reason you weren’t already laying on the floor was because Daemon caught you in his arms. It was still very early in the morning, you had just woken up wanting to join him at his desk when it hit you. Daemon had sensed it the instant he heard the mattress shift.

“It’s alright, love.”

You breathed heavily against his chest, a hand holding your back, the other caressing your head gently. He smelled so good. You had felt it before but this time it was different, it was like the scent was everywhere around you, inside you, invading every inch of your skin. You could have ripped your clothes apart, it was hot, too hot. Your fingers dug in the leather of Daemon top as you felt his grasp tighten, his hand moving under your knees lifting you up.

“D-daemon!”, you whined, fingers hopelessly scratching the clothes. Tears left your eyes, mouth part open in a silent scream.

Daemon moved you back to the bed, thumbs brushing the skin of your legs and shoulders, his own breaths growing louder as he sensed your distress. Despite showing much more self-control, having known previous heats, Daemon’s heart still raced in his chest with anticipation. You both awaited this moment with grand impatience, you heard how important it was. It was impossible to put words on it yet, but the only feeling buried deep inside you was the need for pleasure and carnal desire for your alpha.

You sighed as you felt your body lay on the bed, Daemon at your side, holding your back as he positioned himself sitting behind you. You let your head fall on his chest, it felt like it was either going to explode or melt. The tender skin of your neck exposed, Daemon leaned it to kiss it gently, slowly, as his wet lips grazed it. Dizzy, you laughed at the sensation while he whispered honey-like words against you. His embrace felt delicious, reassuring and blissful.

“So sweet.”

“W-what now?”, you murmured.

His hands wandered on your chest and waist, gripping at your nightgown like he wanted to tear it apart. You wished his hands were everywhere at once on you, every inch of your skin covered by his. Your core burned a strange sensation you had never felt before.

“Now I’m taking care of my little omega.”, he smirked, lips meeting your flushed cheeks as his fingers ran on your collarbone, slipping under the edge of your clothes.

You nodded, whatever it meant you were ready to do it. You would do everything for him at this very instant, you needed it.

“And I’ll show you how to take care of your Alpha, hm?”, he kissed your ear, words flowing in as you drank them all.

You laid into him as he resumed the assault on your neck, his hands carefully pulling your nightgown up. At first you thought it was only your head, so intoxicated in his scent that the regular noises of knocking were coming from inside you. But as it became louder and louder, voices accompanying it, you rapidly came out of your torpor to realize people were knocking at your door.

Daemon's mouth left your skin as you whined, pulling on the leather of his top. Annoyance filled your body as the knocks weren’t stopping.

“Fuck off!”, he screamed. An answer very much like him.

The voices were inaudible, they sounded like a bunch of men calling for Daemon.

“I SAID FUCK OFF. NOT NOW.” His voice was so loud behind you it almost could shatter your entire body. His arms locked around your shoulders he held you like you could disappear at any instant.

“Urgent matters, my Prince.”

Daemon didn’t respond, wanting to focus back on you, but the knock and voices just wouldn’t stop.

“Let us in, we come bearing a messag-”

“If you FUCKING come in”, yelled Daemon, “I’ll have your fucking head rolling on the floor and those of all your family members too.”

“King’s orders.”

Daemon sighed. Digits brushing your skin gently as you held onto him, fingernails digging in the fabric, your eyes begging him not to leave.

“I’m”, he muttered, shaking his head. None of the men would be alive by the end of this very day, you could tell, but yet his words left you aback, “I’m so sorry love.”

“D-daemon don’t-”, you cried out, hands reaching for him in a desperate attempt to keep him close.

“I’ll come back soon”, he started to move, you whined at the loss when he left the bed, you almost collapsed on it, “Very soon.” His face looked as pained as yours, yet he still left, each inch separating you now breaking your heart a little more.

The door slammed open as Daemon reached for Dark Sister, ready to slice anyone coming in. But to your great surprise it wasn’t guards or maids that entered, but Rhaenyra herself. She tilted her head toward him, the fire in her eyes could have melted him whole.

“You can’t-”

“I have no choices, you should understand.”, he rasped, “If it’s Viserys-”

“Understand?!”, she raised her hands up but kept her voice low not to alarm you, “It’s her first… - You cannot be serious.”

“I’ll be back sooner than she realizes.”, he lowered his head, avoiding any other eye contact, fist clenched around the hilt of his sword.

Rhaenyra let him leave, your cries echoing in the room as the door closed. She would handle that later, but for now you were the top priority.

“Oh poor thing.”, she whispered, face leaving the wooden door as she ran to you, “Come here.”

You whined when she touched your arm, her embrace mother-ly. You rested your head on her shoulder, face reddened and wet with angry and desperate tears.

“I-I. W-why-”, you couldn’t form any coherent words. Daemon leaving felt like your entire skin had been ripped apart and you were left bleeding against the cold floor.

“I’m here”, murmured Rhaenyra, holding you close to her, “He’ll be back soon. I’ll take care of you, beautiful.”

You nodded against her chest, fingers gripping at the fabric, focusing your attention on anything else but your burning skin. Your cries were certainly heard in the entire castle, you wanted to scream so loud.

“I’ve prepared cold water for you.”, her hand brushed your head gently, “Take your dress off, we’ll change it, you'll feel better once washed.”

She waited for an answer, your consent before doing anything, but you didn’t say anything. You couldn’t because any sounds that were escaping your lips were cries for help.

“Alright?”

You finally nodded against her, she smiled softly as she rested your body on the cushions, accepting the basin from the maids.

“Leave now, have nobody walk into this room while I take care of her.”

The maids bowed and left immediately. Back at your side Rhaenyra proceeded to take your dress off. You sighed, relieved when the fabric left your skin. Naked you didn’t feel cold, your body was still burning, inside and outside, yet you still shaked, filled with incomprehension. You melted into Rhaenyra's lovely embrace when she pressed the cool cloth on your skin, washing the sweat and tears away. Her kind words cradled you, soothing your worries. Still you felt empty, as much as her touch was reassuring, it wasn’t the one you needed. You needed the burning presence of Daemon. Your fists clenched, not from sadness but pure anger. Why wasn’t he here?

Once washed, Rhaenyra dressed you up again, the fabric soft on your relaxed skin. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed. Your eyes were closed, the sun burning them each time they would open. You felt helplessly tired, head resting on the cushion as Rhaenyra was still at your side, whispering kind words and telling stories that had you smiling through the obvious pain. She took your hand in hers as you slowly fell asleep, mind still hazy from the heat. She didn’t leave your side until Daemon came back, a killer-stare toward him when he dared entering the room, very late into the night.

He bowed his head to her, his face as tired as yours peacefully asleep. She shook her head and he said nothing, he knew nothing needed to be said. Carefully she left your side, face still turned toward you to notice any reactions, but you didn’t move, your breath regular but loud again. She joined him by the door.

“You’re irresponsible.” The words were cold, cutting him raw.

Daemon was too tired for a sermon and too angry for reproaches.

“It was-”, he paused, eyes escaping his niece murdering stare. No words, no excuses would be enough.

“Give her your best excuses. You are a lucky man if she accepts them.” Rhaenyra turned a worrying eyes toward you, but you were still asleep, “Heat is a matter of three or four more days, you better make up for it.”, she continued.

Daemon nodded, lips parted open. Air escaped him but no noises. The two Targaryen exchanged once last lilac stare before Rhaenyra left. Daemon turned his pained eyes toward you. He looked at your beautiful body asleep, wanting to hold you close, lift you up and kiss you again and again. The entire day had been hell for him, but he handled heat before. He could never forgive himself for leaving, but yet even if he thought about it all day, he couldn’t find the right words.

His mere presence was enough to wake you up. Your body felt hot again, skin stinging against any fabric brushing your skin. You whined but muffled it with a hand, turning you back to the door. Your hands gripped the sheets, eyes closed and focusing on the darkness around you. You heard sounds of boots approaching, fabric on the floor, steel against the cold walls, and the mattress shifted. Shivers ran through your body, you waited, but nothing came. No noises, no words. Your head dug into the cushion, you hoped you could disappear in them. It pained you, your body telling otherwise, but you begged to be left alone, any more touch would disgust you.

Daemon observed you, the skin of your back, your head, your irregular breaths informing him that you were awake. He wished that if he touched you, you would turn back and throw yourself in his arms, that he would kiss you and whisper a gentle but sincere ‘sorry’ and everything would be fine. But he felt your anger, he felt everything inside you. Still his hand reached for you back, but the second his digits brushed your hot skin, you squirmed away.

“I’m so sorry, love.”, he murmured. You shook your head slightly, hands on your ears. You wanted to hear none of it.

“I should have been here.”, he continued, you felt him move closer, his broad body and heat engulfing you. You whined, pained cries leaving your lips. Your distress clearly showing, breaking his heart piece by piece. He moved away from you, head still turned toward you, scared you would run away at any moment.

“But you weren’t.”

You couldn’t tell how many days had passed, two or three. You didn’t count, your heat was still going on but you avoided anyone, locked in your room or in Rhaenyra’s as she continued to look after you. You felt like losing it. You had barely since Daemon. More than once he had tried to reach you, try and talk to you but you couldn’t. His excuses felt empty, his touches were hypocritical. Yet every time he wasn’t near you, you cried his absence. You didn’t know why you just didn’t throw yourself in his arms, maybe you wanted him to be hurt as much as he hurt you.

Hours passed and they felt like a living nightmare. You cried, stumbled upon your feet, begged for anyone who heard to take the pain away. Everytime you closed your eyes you saw yourself again, alone as Daemon crossed the door and never turned to look at you, as minutes and hours passed and he wasn’t back at your side. Sadness became anger and anger turned into insatiable wrath. You wanted to scream at him and hope he would shatter. Tears run down your face at all hours, hoping it would dry your body so hard you would simply die from it. Guilt and anger filled your body. You wanted Daemon at your side as much as you despised him, it tore you apart, bleeding you open. When will the pain end?

The last day of your heat, you stayed in your chambers. You hoped that maybe your anger and sadness would calm down soon. You felt dizzy all morning, Daemon had left early as he did the previous day. His scent was everywhere in the room and for once you allowed yourself to rest alongside it, focusing on your body and your breaths. You could have cried all day again, the pain you both endured the first day was nothing compared to what you were inflicting to one another. But you wanted Daemon to understand, you wanted him to look you in the eyes, promise he’ll never leave again. You wanted the words to flow so naturally out of him it would be carved in your heart forever. You didn’t know if it would be enough, but still you craved to hear it.

The door opened, nonchalant boots hitting the floor in irregular rhythm. Your peripheral sight let you observe Daemon, you sensed his anger and impatience as he turned to you, face flushed and sweat running down, probably from training.

“Time to talk.”

You stared at each other in silence. The hunger and anger were indivisible in you both.

“I have nothing to say, husband.”, the last word left your mouth like a reproach.

“This can’t keep going.”, he husked.

A laugh escaped your lips as you turned your body to him, sitting at the edge of the bed as he was standing there, a meter away from you.

“I wonder because of who.” Your eyes defied him, and as much as his ego stood tall in the room, towering you, you wouldn’t let go.

He approached, but this time you didn’t move. His steps were heavy, threatening as his scent. You shook, your body heating up, but still you wouldn’t let yourself be tamed this easily. You wouldn’t hold long against your alpha, he was made to have you yield. But you hoped he could read the thousand pleas in your eyes. His hand reached for your arm, gentle to your greatest surprise, but you escaped his grip, his fist clenching around nothing.

“I’m sorry”, his voice was so low, from sadness, shame, anger. He refused to let your first heat pass without showing you all its wonders. But no words seemed

“You don’t understand”, you simply spoke. His eyes widened, fingernails digging in his palms. What more can I say? he thought.

“I said I was sorry!”, Daemon yelled, belt unbuckled, he threw his sword away, it hit the floor with a loud noise that had you jumping.

“You didn’t mean it!”, you screamed, “A-and, even if you did-”. You violently clapped your hands on your ears, the shock echoing in your head as you cried loudly.

You heard him move closer, eyes part open, you observed him kneel down before you. His face

“You know I’m sincere.”, he whispered, he brushed your legs with his palm. You wanted to give up to his heat, to his touch, “I am sorry.”, he paused, letting you process every word, “I had no choice but to leave and I regret that I had to do so. I should have prepared you better and it’s my whole responsibility as your alpha”, his thumb brushed your overheated skin, you looked at him as your hand met the back of his, he smirked, “I should have protected you better.”

You tilted your head, it was more than you ever hoped for, the words enveloping you in a loving embrace.

“I’ll not beg you, I’ll not cry, I know what you want from me and I’ll give it to you if you let me.”

You broke when the last sentence left his mouth. You leaned in, arms around his shoulders to meet his broad figure. You rested in his arms as he held you close, hands gently brushing your back, your head lost in his neck as you cried, all the pain left in your body rolling down your cheeks. He met your embrace, a hand placed on your head, lowering to your neck. Tender words escaped his lips as your tears washed away your last sorrow.

Daemon stood up, carefully lifting you up by the knees, just like he did the first time. You still sensed it as your body met the mattress, the heat, the need; but now it felt so peaceful, so loving. Your breaths were irregular yet calm. Everything that needed to happen would eventually, and you knew this time you would let yourself be interrupted. You rested against the cushions as Daemon moved an arm under your head, holding you as your mouths finally met, one hand cupping your wet cheeks. Daemon traced the outline of your lips with the tip of his tongue, smiling into the kiss. You happily let him in, your tongues meeting, moaning against him. The taste was even better than the scent. Leaving your cheek, his hand moved to your chin, finger lowering to your neck where it rested a few seconds, squeezing it lightly. Your lips still hadn’t parted away, teeth clicking as you felt his hot palm brush your arm, digits playfully pulling at your dress. Those weren’t teasing touches, they were sincere and tender.

Once separated, you whined at the loss, breathing each other’s air, your lips brushing one another. Daemon moved his arm from under your head, resting above you as he steadied himself on his hand, his hips against yours, spreading your legs open. You watched him as he studied your body, you felt bare under his gaze, his eyes filled with newfound hunger. You observed him, the scars showing on his neck, his broad figure, his weight digging you in the mattress, the way his chest moved above you, his blonde locks falling over his face and shoulders. Not even the Gods could have sculpted such a beautiful creature.

“I love you.”

You spoke the word with confidence, you knew them to be true.

“I love you too.”

Your hands reached behind his neck, pulling him into a hot kiss as he met your enthusiasm.

“Let’s do it properly this time”, he murmured against your lips, noses brushing, “Right, love?”

***

“Show me”, you whispered against his lips, your hands shaking around him, your core wet, burning from the need of feeling whole, from the lust and desire to satiate your alpha.

Daemon smirked at the invitation, more than happy to oblige. It wasn’t really your first time. Pleasure wasn’t unknown to you both, especially him. He had gone down on you more than once, and so you had returned the favor. But with the heat, this all felt different. The need was eating you both alive. You wanted to helplessly rub against him, the friction of your bodies relieving any kind of hunger you had. Daemon’s hot palms on your ankles sent a shiver down your spine, he had moved further on the bed, legs spread open by his grasp. You looked down as he teasingly, slowly pulled your dress up, his digits brushing your skin painfully. You wanted his mouth to meet with your body with such fervor you were ready to grab his face and force him to, but all strength had left your body. You only laid there submissively, at the mercy of Daemon’s hands.

“Don’t you dare”, you laughed as he raised his eyes to meet yours, vile smirk on his lips.

“I can make it good but I can make it funny too.”, he mewled, body leaning in closer to your center dripping wet from the teasing through your small clothes. His hands met your thighs and you gasped loudly.

“F-focus on the good part!”

Daemon licked his lips as his fingers reached for your inner thighs. You felt like you were going to explode, you tried to work the best you could to undo your top but your digits were shaking in anticipation, unable to focus on the simple task. You felt his fingernails dig in the skin, scratching the clothes hiding your virtue. Lifting your legs up, moving his hips against yours, he laid closer, his weight above yours, pressing you on the mattress as he met your lips again. This time with renewed lust, sinful noises escaping you both, you whined when he rubbed his leathered erection between your legs. The clothes couldn’t hide how hard he was and you could already feel him whole. It only had your mouth watering at the thought of having it inside you, tearing you apart with all the strength you wished him to use.

Your hand reached between your bodies, palming his shaft as he met your touch, groaning into the kiss. His hands worked your top faster than you did, undoing it and pushing the fabric down, exposing your breast to the hot air, bouncing with your irregular breath and jumping at any of his touches. Daemon stood up again, hungrily pushing the clothes down to your waist, his thumb resting on your lower belly as he leaned in again, mouth feasting on the burning and sweaty skin of your chest. Your hands moved to grab a fistful of his hair, pushing him down further on your body.

“Patience…”, he cooed.

“I-I don’t have that”, you breathed, smiling through the heat, “R-right now.”

Daemon laughed at the comment, pressing kisses on your lower belly as you raised your legs the best you could, your dress slipping off your body alongside your small clothes, leaving you finally naked. You sighed in relief at the sensation, you had felt trapped inside the fabric all day. Being bare felt so good, you only wished to rip Daemon’s clothes apart so you could feel his sensitive skin against yours. But for now, the man was focused on something else. His hands moved to your thighs again, wetting his lips

“Have to get you ready.”, he rasped, “Don’t think that tight cunt can take a dragon cock yet.”

You breathed heavily at the comment, the sole idea of his imposing cock had your mouth water, your hips moving up, and shivers sent down your whole body.

“D-do it then.”, you whispered, finger inside your mouth, playing with the saliva on your tongue, a sinful view he could almost come for.

“As my lady commands”, he purred, biting the skin of your inner thigh as you cried his name, hips moving up hoping to meet his mouth.

“How should I do that…”, he murmured against your dripping folds, his low voice echoing against your sensitive skin. He raised his eyes to meet yours again, half closed as you hungrily sucked on your finger. You understood he awaited an answer as he didn’t move.

“With your m-mouth”, you begged, pausing a second, “And your f-fingers.”

He tilted his head, so, so close to your core you wanted to scream to him to eat you out already, the rough skin of his cheek meeting your inner thigh.

“P-please”, you whined, knowing he liked to hear you beg for it.

“Good girl”, he grunted.

You couldn’t quite tell if you cried, moaned or screamed when his lips finally met your cunt. Maybe a mix of all three, maybe none as you muffled yourself. You were too dizzy to tell, his licks hungry and harsh against your throbbing core. Two fingers parted your lips as his tongue lapped at your core, noises wet from your juices against his rough jaw. He moved his mouth up, flicking his tongue around your clit. You gasped at the sensation, lower belly burning from the inside as you let your hips meet the rhythm of his fingers and tongue. Kiss it harshly he let his mouth move down again, digits playing with your entrance as he let his tongue delve in first. You screamed this time, you were so close if he put a single finger inside you, you would come undone around it. Daemon could sense it as he moved backward, catching his breath and observing the messy masterpiece you were. One finger brushed your folds and you nearly passed out when Daemon pushed it in, slowly, painfully.

“M-more”, you whined, any words coming out of your mouth now almost against your will. You wanted every filthy thought to stay inside your mind but you couldn’t keep them locked in as they came out of you with no restrain, “Deeper!” You knew Daemon would love to hear them.

Your walls tightened around him, he moved slowly at first, meeting your hips in a joyful and obscene rhythm. When it got settled inside you, Daemon added another, you whined, throwing your head back against the pillows.

“I know you can take them”, he husked against your cunt, mouth resuming its assault on your oversensitive core, accompanying the harsh pace of his fingers.

His fingers scissored inside, hitting all these spots that had you seeing stars. The heat was unbearable, the ceiling was a beautiful night full of stars and you couldn’t tell what was real anymore, screaming your husband's name as waves of pleasure crashed onto you, stomach flipping when you came around his fingers and mouth. He rode you to your orgasm, almost to coma as his digits wouldn’t stop their aggressive dance inside you. You tried to catch your breath, moaning and crying at the same time.

“I love when you moan my name”, he kissed both your thighs, fingers sliding out of you, “Want to hear you scream it for me.”

Your breast bounced slightly as you finally caught your breath, nipples and skin sensitive as it burned under Daemon’s insatiable stare. His fingers met your mouth, tasting yourself on them as he lowered his head so his tongue could circle your nipples, playing with the soft skin of your breast.

“Bite m-me”, you mumbled, unsure why you asked, you simply wanted to be marked forever.

“If you insist”, he laughed, air hot against your body.

He lowered his head, teeth nibbling at the soft skin of your breast.

“Mark will be for later love”, he whispered, leaving your nipples, moving up again to rest his head against your neck. Your scent was so strong here he almost lost any restrain he thought he didn’t have anymore, “Can’t believe I’m finally going to sink into this sweet cunt, pound it until you come crawling to my feet, begging for it each minutes of your next heat, belly swelling with-”

“O-oh my god shut up and fuck me already!”

Daemon raised his head, face mixed with laughter and confusion. Your impatience certainly aroused and amused him.

“Oh well…”, he commented, lips curling in a teasing smile, “I was just planning what I would do to you…”

“G-get inside!”, you whined, legs around his waist, pulling him closer, the leather grazing your wet and sensitive core.

“Oh because my Lady knows how it’s… done now?”, he laughed, “Where did your innocence go.”, he raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips as he undid his top in haste, throwing the fabric somewhere on the floor.

“Took your cock enough in my mouth to know it’s supposed to go in holes.”

Daemon's mouth parted open and closed immediately. Instead a silent laugh was stuck in his throat, definitely amused by your filthy words.

“So my sweet girl knows what it does to take her Alpha’s cock during heat, hm?”, he teased, towering you, his dark eyes scanning your body, already imagining himself buried so deep inside your cunt would take the form of his cock, and his only.

Your eyes wandered in the room as you heard him undoing his pants, sliding out of them with ease. You knew… some things. You had heard things, from how big and pleasurable an Alpha’s cock was supposed to be, from how you were made to take it as an Omega.

“If my baby girl doesn’t know, I might just show her.”

You observed him, finally naked under your hungry gaze, his length in hand, fierce and angry. His fingers at the base, slowly stroking it. Instinctively you parted your legs open, you had left his waist so he could undress, but now you were more than ready for him, naturally wet enough so he could get seated in easily. A hand came to rest on your elevated knee while the other left his erection to push your other knee down on the bed, giving him a perfect sight and angle.

“Ready when you are”, he grunted, head of his cock lustfully brushing your dripping folds.

You nodded frantically, gasping at the friction. You were burning, melting, your body had just been tossed in a fire pit at the sight of his shaft and the only thing you had in mind was to take it like you were told to be. Your mouth watered, you wanted more, more and more. You wanted him, all of him.

“I want you inside me”, you finally spoke.

“Don’t worry”, he grunted against your ear as you felt the head pressing in, “I’ll take all of you.”

Your lips parted away perfectly for him. Like you were told, you were meant for your Alpha’s cock. And he did not lie, he was here, and so he did take all of you. Breath left your lungs as he pushed in, you felt every inch, it was never ending. When his hips met yours, his balls gently brushing your skin, you let out a loud gasp. For a few seconds you both didn’t move, savoring the very moment you had awaited for so long. So this was the feeling you craved for so much time, the one he told you so much about. All the nights whispered the filthiest things in your ears for you to finally have him buried so deep, for him to be so huge inside you wondered how he even got in at first.

“Fuck”, he groaned, “Tight, fucking tight just like I told you you would be, right love?”

You couldn’t speak, you just nodded, whining against his scars as you pressed your leg on his waist. When he moved backward slightly, you felt every veins, his size stretching you open again. He groaned and you whined, crying for your Alpha. He buried his hand in your scent, moving his cock in and out in a steady and controlled pace at first, delighted. It wasn’t painful, it felt just right. His rhythm grew erratic and harsh as his hips pounded against yours, his shaft hitting deeper and deeper at each motions.

Your lips met his in a wet kiss, saliva mixed with sweat. His hands found yours, fingers intertwined against the bed as he fucked your rough but lovingly, noises of skin against skin echoing in the room, filling your ears until you could only hear it and nothing else.

“I love you”.

The words felt right too, between a slow motion backward and a harsh push following, both your fingernails digging in each other’s hands. You fucked both your hips against one another at a hungry, unstoppable pace. You felt him grow larger and larger inside, cock pulsing, throbbing against your tight walls, clenching around his length.

“I’ll n-never”, he panted, breathing heavily with each thrust, getting closer to climax and feeling his knot grow bigger inside, “Ever leave you.”

You whined, cried his name, his status, any words that fitted his ego. He felt delicious inside, you felt delirious outside. Your skin burned against his, stinging at every place, your core dripping around his shaft, welcoming him again and again each time he pounded in. Your second orgasm approached fast as he worked you to it relentlessly. Shivers coursed through your entire body as it threatened to give up under his weight.

“D-daemon!”, you yelled, legs crossed around his waist, pressing him harder against you, hoping he would still hit deeper with each time he slammed in. You cried out as you reached your climax, body melting under his touch like his hands were everywhere on you at once. Your legs shook around him, his pace growing irregular.

His breaths were erratic, words leaving his mouths, sounds that made no sense to you as your eyes closed, feeding yourself off his groans and his cock growing so much you thought it could never leave your aching cunt. He pushed a few more times, hitting these sweet spots inside, knot buried so deep to places you both thought weren’t attainable. Head buried in your neck, his teeth met your soft skin as he dug in, marking you until it drew blood. You whined at the sensation, overwhelming your already sensitive body. Daemon groaned, mouth leaving your neck, vision fading to black when with one last thrust he spilled deep in you, your walls clenching around him, hot seed settled inside as you milked every last drop from him.

The atmosphere was heavy, loud breaths cradling you both as you stayed here, melted against one another, embraced forever.

“Oh”, you whispered, your breath taken away, “I-It feels…”

He laughed, kissing your cheeks gently, resting inside you, keeping the seed buried deep down, his knot still pulsing.

“Huge.”, you finished. You feared that any motions would tear you apart as you welcomed him in your arms.

“You’ll have to be a bit patient, sweet girl”, he cooed against your temple, “Keep your husband warm, would you?”

You nodded, lips meeting his in a tired but loving kiss. You rested a few minutes there, until you felt him move slightly, his cock not as huge as before.

“Daemon?”, you seeked out happily, his eyes closed as he breathed peacefully.

“I am going to be carrying your children?”, you tilted your head innocently, meeting his lilac eyes.

“Oh Gods”, he whispered, fake worry on his face, “I fear you might.”

You laughed as you pushed his shoulders away, his face brushing your own, a teasing kiss on your flushed cheeks. You breathed each other’s air for a few minutes, until he safely moved out of you. You whined at the loss, but still happily hummed as he planted a kiss on your temple.

“You did great”, he reassured, hand meeting your head, brushing it gently.

“I think you did too.”

He smirked, straightening up on the bed.

“Think?”, he frowned his eyebrow, “I did amazing.”, he pouted.

You laughed loudly, arms raised toward him as an invitation. He smiled as he pushed the sheets resting under you, covering your overwhelmed body with the soft fabric as he laid next to you again. Daemon opened his arms, you came to rest on his chest, his breaths rocking you to sleep, his lips meeting your forehead, an arm around your shoulders to shield you from the outside cold of the room.

“Let’s do that again, no interruption. Never again”, he whispered against your skin as you let yourself be taken by exhaustion into a delightful and dreamful night into your loving husband’s arms.

[nightwishesworld]

Babysitting (Part 1)

You and Alcina are roped into taking care of your friend's daughter for a few days. Alcina is...less than excited about it. I mean, come on, a baby in Castle Dimitrescu? What could possibly go wrong?!

***********************

The warmth of the afternoon sun crept its way into the windows of Castle Dimitrescu. Both you and Alcina decided it was a beautiful day to take your afternoon tea in the gardens instead of the library . Blooms grew in newly fragranced air, the sweet petals that fluttered reflected by the honeyed-sweetness within. The garden birds always warm your heart. They bring so much joy just from watching them play and dance around the hedges. There are so many of them out today, large and small, brown, red-capped, and golden stripped. You love listening to their chirping, each singing its own beautiful song.

Alcina held your hand over the table as she sipped her special blend of tea.

“Oh, Darling, did I tell you Cristofor and Lucia are going out of town? He says it’s for business but honestly, I think they just want to have a break from the baby. I mean, I don’t blame them, it’s their first kid and you know how hectic everything’s been for them lately."

Alcina nods. “Yes, well, it didn’t help that they were a little unprepared for baby Julianna. That’s her name, right? I remember we offered to buy a few things for them before she was born.”

“Yeah, that’s it, but I just call her Jewel. My precious little gem. I guess they’re gonna be gone for the extended weekend and need someone to watch her.”

Alcina scoffs. “I pity those they choose.”

“Oh stop it, Alcina, it won’t be that bad.”

She stops what she’s doing, nearly choking on her tea, and just stares at you. “You didn’t. You did not! Please for the love of Mother Miranda tell me you didn’t say we would take care of her!”

Your silence was all the answer she needed.

“Why would you do that? Castle Dimitrescu is no place for a baby!”

“Tell that to Cris! I tried telling him that and all he did was assure me that everything would be fine. They feel Jewel would be safest in our care; they were practically begging, Al. What was I supposed to say?”

“No?” You roll your eyes at her. “What about their family? Are they really not available?”

“Lucia said she would feel guilty asking her folks to do any more for them. They usually watch her every day Cris and Lucia are at work. Imagine that plus three straight days; I would want a break too.”

Alcina stayed silent.

“They’re gonna stop by in a few days with some stuff, like diapers and toys and things.”

Alcina huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m so glad you discussed the details so thoroughly with them.”

“I figured you would say no. Look, I’m sorry I went behind your back but they really need a babysitter and they don’t trust anyone as they do us. Besides, I’m Jule’s unofficial aunt, I don’t think I can say no to something like this. I know you don’t like kids, but-”

“What are you talking about? I love seeing little Julianna.”

“You do? Cause every time they come to visit you seem kind of...distant”

“I don’t...I don’t like holding her. She’s too tiny and fragile for someone like me to be holding.”

“Someone like you?” Then it dawned on you. “Oh, Alci. You don’t actually believe that, do you? You’re always so gentle with her.”

“Because if I’m not delicate I’ll crush her.” Alcina’s face held sorrow to it, not evident to most individuals.

“You wouldn’t crush her, Alci. I know you better than that. You literally came running into my study the other day because I screamed ‘spider,’ and then carried me out because I lost sight of it. You’re a lot more gentle than you’re giving yourself credit.You're a good, thoughtful, and gentle person Alci. Anyone who can’t see that is purely idiotic,” I muttered under my breath.

“I suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world, having a baby running around the castle. And we have time to babyproof everything.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard, love, she’s only seven months old. She’s only just starting to learn how to crawl.”

You were talking but Alcina wasn’t listening. She was too busy making a mental checklist of everything that needed to be done before baby Julianna arrived. “Hmm? Oh yes, of course, darling. Do you know where they got those baby gates? We’re going to need quite a few of them.”

“Alci, I don’t think we’ll need-” She’s already walked away. “ Hey, at least you’re embracing it?”

True to his word, Cris arrived at the castle three days later with a carriage full of supplies. You wanted to welcome them with Alcina, but the matriarch was nowhere to be found. The past few days for her have been spent deep cleaning the walls and floors, which really sucked, especially for Bela, Cassi, and Dani. They stuck doing the hard labor as Alcina bossed them around.

You greeted him with a tight hug. “Thank god you’re here. Alcina’s going crazy trying to babyproof everything. I don’t think the castle’s ever been this protected. Or this clean,” I muttered the last part under my breath.

Cris put a hand over his heart. “Oh, she doesn’t have to do that! Julianna can barely crawl five feet. Besides, I know for certain this place is much neater than our house, even on a bad day. She would have been perfectly fine.”

“I tried to tell her to not worry so much, but it just goes in one ear and out the other. Perhaps if she hears it from you she’ll finally listen,” I rolled my eyes playfully.

Cris nods. “And you wonder why I think Julianna’s so safe up here. I’ll be sure to mention it to Alcina. Do you wanna unload this stuff now or wait for her?”

You glance behind him to the carriage. There were a few large bags filled with miscellaneous items as well as a few larger things on the back seat not bagged at all like the playpen. “I don’t even know where she is, Cris. And I’d offer to have the girls help, but they’re hiding from Alci. Let’s just get started. We can put it in the lounge in the foyer until Alcina comes around.”

“Sounds like a plan. Some of this stuff I’ll bring more of when we drop her off, like diapers, you’ll never have enough diapers,” he says as he tosses you a bag.

“So you’ve said. Didn’t you have a nightmare about it once?”

“Before Lucia even went into labor. We ran out and every shop in a 50-mile radius was sold out. To date, it’s one of my worst nightmares.”

You laughed. “So where are you guys going? I mean, really going. You don’t actually think I believe that crap about a Mortician Expo, do you?”

Cris gave you a look of skepticism and stayed silent as if he were planning his next move.

“Relax man, I don’t actually care. Taking care of a baby is more work than I can imagine. I would want a break too!” The statement seemed to ease him.

“Nowhere special. We made reservations at a nice hotel a few hours south of here; it’s got a pool, hot tub, couples massages, the works!”

You nod, tossing the last of the bags by the lounge. “Nice! You guys deserve it, like I said, I can’t imagine how much work taking care of Julianna is.”

“You won’t have to in a few days,” he laughed.

“I’m excited now, but something tells me I won’t be in a few days. Just sleep deprived!”

“Nah you’ll love it. It’s just, well only slightly tiring! That’s all. Should we go looking for Alcina? I wanna go over Julianna’s schedule with both of you.”

“She knew you were coming so she should be here any minute now. I’m sure she just lost track of time bossing the girls around. The entire west wing has been baby-proofed and when I mean the entire wing, I mean the entire wing. She had Daniela take down all of the ornate weapons and armor from the walls while Bela and Cassi scrubbed everything. And that was just this morning.”

“I’ll be sure to thank them then,” Cris chuckled lightheartedly.

As if on cue, you can just make out the sound of high heels rushing down the corridor, only to stop abruptly just around the corner. Knowing Alcina she was probably adjusting herself to look like her usual well-presented way. Sure as rain, Alcina approached looking as elegant as ever. “Oh Cristofor, please forgive me. It’s been total chaos around here- I completely lost track of time and-”

Cris waved it off and took her hand in his, bringing it up so he could kiss her wedding ring. “Think nothing of it, Alcina. I heard you’ve been keeping yourself busy.”

The matriarch sent you a glare that you shrug off with a smug smile.

“You don’t need to worry about anything, Alcina. I know my little girl will be in the best care possible up here. There’s no one Lucia and I trust more.”

“That is one very generous statement, Cristofor, but a castle is still no place for a baby, especially this one.”

“That may hold some truth, but most of all that...messy business stays in the basement, right?”

“All of it does,” you answer for Alcina. “Even I’m not allowed down there and we’ve been married for three and a half years!”

“And for good reason,” Alcina says. “You know what goes on down there. Why would I put my wife’s life in danger?”

You were about to retaliate but Cris wrapped his arms around the both of you. “Let’s just get this stuff upstairs, huh? Far the fuck away from the basement and whatever goes on down there.”

Alcina opens her mouth but Cris shakes his head profusely. “Nope, don’t want to know. Let’s just get to the bedroom. Wow, the walls do look bare.”

“Indeed,” Alcina nodded. “It’s a good thing little Julianna is staying, I should have had the walls deep cleaned nearly decades ago,” she let out an elegant laugh.

“I hope you didn’t do all this just for us.” Cris looked in awe as the various portraits and ornate weapons decorating the walls became more scarce as they neared the master bedroom. It made this part of the castle feel abandoned. The chemical smell of cleaning solvents was strong, but it would surely be gone in time for Julianna’s arrival.

“Of course I did. You are family and you deserve nothing but the best possible care.”

Cristofor shakes his head. "You're a good woman, Alcina. I genuinely hope you know that."

She gives him a warm smile while holding the bedroom door open for him. "I try to be."

"So," he sets down his two large boxes of supplies to rub his back. "Where do you want this stuff?"

"At the foot of the bed for now," you shrug. "Alcina and I will organize everything once it's all here."

He nodded and kicked it lazily to the end of the bed and took a seat on the mattress. "If we wanna be lazy we could shove the rest of the boxes in the playpen and carry it all up in one trip."

"We can do that," you smiled. "Then we can start organizing everything."

"And while we're doing that I'd like to walk you through Julianna's schedule. Lucia made you a copy with a couple of notes on how to do specific things...it's all well let’s just say pretty detailed," he laughed.

A look of fear crossed over the matriarch's face for a moment. "Why don't I go grab it? Then you two can start unpacking. If I run into the girls I'll send them up as well."

"Oh leave the girls alone," you shake your head at the matriarch. "They're already hiding from you."

Alcina lets out an exasperated laugh. "Can you believe that, Cristofor? My own daughters are hiding from me!" Alcina exclaimed with a look of sheer amusement on her face.

"Nothing I'm looking forward to." You started unpacking the many boxes of  diapers and arranging them neatly on the already emptied shelves while Cris made himself comfortable sitting on the floor, unpacking blankets and clothes. He unfolded and refolded them in a perfect square and placed them on top of the hope chest. You smiled at each plush blanket bearing a different pattern and color.

"Where can I put her clothes?"

"Um, just on the bed for now. I don't know if Alcina emptied out a drawer yet. It would be that middle one if you wanna check."

You hear almost all the joints in his legs crack as he stands and makes his way over to the dresser. He grips the knobs but pauses before opening them. "I'm not gonna find anything dirty in here, am I?"

"Not in there, no."

He turns back to you with an arched brow and hung jaw. You only laugh at him.

"Is it cleared out?"

He nods, neatly organizing the various onesies and pajama sets.

He busied himself displaying various lotions and powders on the coffee table, which would act as your changing station.

“What can I do?” Alcina asked, staring down anxiously at the various bottles.

Cris thought for a moment before taking two smaller boxes out of the playpen and pushing them towards the vampire. “These are for bath time." He quickly scanned over the contents to make sure he was correct. "This box is shampoos, soaps, and toys. Julianna loves bath time; the more toys and games the better." Alcina smiled. “And this box is her special duck towel, washcloth- also a duck pattern she loves ducks, two non-slip bath mats for both inside and outside the tub, and a sponge.”

She looked a tad overwhelmed again taking in all the items but took the boxes nonetheless. “Good thing I cleared out cupboard space, right darling?”

You wanted to laugh but restrained yourself to biting the inside of your cheek instead. “Yes, dear.”

"Well, that's everything. Oh, and don't worry about a crib. Lucia and I are bringing it when we drop Julianna off."

Alcina shook her head and simply waved him off. "Oh don't bother, Cristofor. We have one she's more than welcome to use."

You gave her a confused look. "Um, no we don't."

"Yes, we do. I just have to grab it out of storage. If you'd like to wait and see if it's up to your standards you're more than welcome to." It wasn't so much of an invitation as it was a plea.

Cris laughed. "Alcina, I told you anything you have is probably way better than ours. I'm sure it's fine."

"It would make me feel a lot better," Alcina said with a hint of desperation in her voice.

"Alright, whatever it takes to make you feel better about this."

Alcina sighed in relief and rushed down the hall.

"She really is worked up about this isn't she?"

You let yourself collapse back onto the bed. "You have no idea. She's been fretting over everything since I told her three whole days ago!"

"I kinda figured she would be the calm one between the two of you since, you know, she's got three kids already."

You feigned a look of hurt. "Ok first of all, ouch my pride! Secondly, all three of the girls were turned when they were adults. Which is why I wanna know where this supposed crib came from."

He turned back to you. "And you know what you're doing?"

"Of course not, but one of us has to be calm about it."

Cris laughed, letting himself lounge back on his elbows. Any further down and he was afraid he would fall asleep. "I guess that's true. You're gonna be great though, both of you. Just the fact that you're worrying about all this stuff tells me you're really dedicated to keeping Julianna safe and happy here."

"Thanks, man. I think I really needed to hear that. Got any advice to help us prepare?"

He slaps a hand on your thigh and gives it a friendly squeeze. "Have as much sex as you can before she's here. Because once she is, you'll be way too tired to even think about it."

You sit up and look at him incredulously, which earns him a hearty laugh. "I asked you for advice on how to keep your baby alive and you tell me to bone my wife?"

"All I'm saying is Lucia and I haven't been able to do it since before Julianna was born," Cris whispered in all seriousness.

Alcina returned carrying what you can only assume is the crib covered with a sheet. Bela stepped in first to hold the door open for her.

"Thank you, darling. I found my one good daughter to help me. Not the rascals this time!"

Cris laughs. "I see that."

The blonde nodded and joined you both on the bed. "Hello, y/n. Hello, Uncle Cris."

"Good to see you, Bela."

“Alright,” you hop off the bed. “Let’s see this crib that we apparently have just laying around.”

Alcina rolls her eyes and yanks the dusty sheet away, revealing the most beautiful baby crib you have ever seen. Polished solid dark oak frame with solid gold detailing wrapping around the bars like vines. The Dimitrescu House Crest is shining proudly on both sides.

A smug grin plastered itself on Alcina’s face knowing she single-handedly put an end to your snarky remarks.

“Holy shit,” you finally say. “And you had this in storage…just because?”

The question made her uncomfortable, you could tell. A shadow cast over Alcina’s face. “I had it made a while back and forgot about it until now. I’m glad it stayed in such pristine shape. Any polishes used on it were water-based and non-toxic. Perfect for a baby to slobber on,” she chuckles almost a bit uncomfortably.

Cris shook his head as he ran a hand across the smooth wooden framework. “I don’t know what to say, Alcina. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

“Only the best for our favorite niece.”

Cris clapped his hands together and pulled out a few pieces of paper from his back pocket. "Now, onto Julianna's schedule. Lucia tried to be as helpful as possible when writing it down, but she said if you have any questions just ask her when we drop her Jules off."

Both of you nodded as he handed them to you. Bela situated herself on your bed with one of the plushies he brought over just because.

 Daily Routine

7 am- wake up and bottle feed 8 ounces for about 20 minutes (doesn't have to be one the dot if she's still sleeping. It's a rare occurrence for her to sleep in, but it could happen

7:30- playtime on the floor or outside (we usually keep her inside this early in the morning but either is perfectly suitable)

8:00- breakfast (something solid-ish. Like oatmeal and fruit chunks)

8:30- more play 

Between 9-9:30- bottle-feed 6 ounces for 15 minutes then naptime

11:00- wake up and play (she loves her building blocks and rattle)

Noon- lunch (baby food! Fruit or veggie) (she'll probably refuse solids but don't take no for an answer! Even just a few are ok if she's especially cranky)

12:30- play (peek-a-boo in the mirror! she gets a kick out of it every time. 

1:30- bottle-feed 6 ounces and nap (Congrats! you're halfway there)

3:30- wake up and play (try using the hand puppets and engage her in nursery rhymes)

4:00- bottle feed four ounces for roughly 20 minutes

5:00- dinner (more baby food. Whichever one she didn’t have for lunch)! Same as the morning, she'll probably refuse)

5:30-play (maybe go for a walk if you haven't already?)

6:30- bath time! (see added note for specific bathtime notes. She loves hearing her little rubber ducky squeak)

7:00- bottle-feed 8 ounces then time for bed (good luck trying to sleep and getting her to sleep)

1:30 am- bottle feed again (she’ll wake you up when she’s hungry don’t worry)

Breastmilk can be refrigerated for five days and I’ve given you more than enough to hold her over. Protect it with your lives! Breast Milk is liquid gold!

 You read the note over a couple of times before handing it to Alcina who looked just as overwhelmed as you. "That is so much."

"Not enough," Alcina says at the same time.

Cris laughs. "Wanna see what she wrote for bathtime?"

Alcina took the second not from him.

 Bathtime Tips

Make sure the adhesive mats are set down before bath time begins. One in the tub one outside

Make sure you have everything you need nearby; towel, washcloth, toys (especially her duck), shampoos, lotion, clean clothes, and a diaper

It’s easiest (and less painful) to sit on a stool or something instead of standing and bending over

ALWAYS KEEP A HAND ON HER!

Take off any jewelry and be sure to wash your hands

Check the water temp with the inside of your wrist- it should be warm (not too hot or too cold)

Dry and dress her on the floor (hence the second mat) 

Squirty toys! (The duck is her favorite as it also squeaks)

Plastic boats that she can push around

Whale-shaped basin for rinsing hair

Once she’s all dry she can go right in her crib

 "Sweet Satan, Cristofor. This is a lot of information. I mean, the more the better but..."

You take her hand in yours and kiss the top of her knuckles. "It's alright, Love, we've got this. If anyone can manage this it's us."

She nods but doesn't really believe your words. You can see the doubt reflecting in her eyes. "You're right."

"It looks way more complicated than it is, ladies. You just put her in the tub, don't let her drown, clean her, and take her out. Boom, simple as that."

Alcina lets out a relieving chuckle and you thank him silently.

 *******************************************************************************************

You lay awake that night unable to fall asleep. Alcina is awake too, but you don't dare speak to her. She's too lost in her own world to be bothered with your nonsense. But it was starting to eat you alive from the inside out. You looked over at it sitting across the room. Its existence is mocking you to the point where you can almost hear it laughing at you.

You finally break the silence. “Who’s even is it? You turned the girls when they were adults, right?”

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

You hear her sigh. “Yes of course all of them. Now please, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“But you had to have a reason, Al. No one just has a crib as intricate as that made out of the blue.”

“It doesn’t matter,” her tone grew sharper. “We have it now for Julianna and that’s what matters.”

“I guess so, but…” you turn your body to face her. Her silhouette is laying on her back staring up at the ceiling. “D-did you try having a baby with someone else and…”

She turns to look at you with wide golden eyes. Not angry, but certainly not expecting that line of questioning. You immediately regret opening your mouth.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-“ Alcina silences your ramblings with a searing kiss. One you happily return.

“It’s nothing like that, my love. My only children are ours. I had it made last year when Lucia first told us she was pregnant. I remember how excited you were for them. You did so much to help her get ready, for both of them, really.” Alcina smiled and reached blindly for your hand. “And every time they come up to visit your eyes just light up when you see Julianna. You’re so good with her, iubirea mea.”

A shadow of guilt passed over her face. “I overheard you talking to Lucia about wanting kids of your own.”

Your heart plummeted down to the pit of your stomach.

“You love our daughters with your entire heart, but it’s not the same as raising your own flesh and blood. Every time I saw you holding little Julianna or singing to her I pictured you with our baby. So, I got all excited and, albeit, ahead of myself and had the crib made.”

“For our baby,” you finished with a genuine smile.

Alcina nodded. “I wanted to wait for you to bring up the conversation before saying anything about it, and” her voice cracks. “You never did. I didn’t understand why at first. You would produce such a beautiful baby with or without me.” Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes threatening to cascade down her cheeks. “Then one night it just sort of hit me; why would you want to share something as precious and innocent as a baby with a monster like me?”

Tears flowed freely from her eyes and sobs racked her body, it broke your heart. Without thinking you throw yourself at Alcina and wrap her tightly in your arms. The vampire happily buries her face in the crook of your neck and cries her heart out. You thread your fingers through her hair to help soothe her.

“Oh, my love, I’m so sorry. Don’t you ever refer to yourself as a monster ever again, do you hear me? You are no monster, Alcina Dimitrescu. How can someone as loving, and soft, and generous like you be anything besides an angel?”

“Oh stop pretending, y/n. I’m a genetically mutated freak! The baby would take one look at me and start wailing,” Alcina let out a frustrated huff.

“Stop it, Alcina. Our baby would adore you just like Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela do. Julianna loves you to pieces! She gets so excited every time you walk in the room.”

Alcina sniffled. “She does that with everyone.”

“Because she likes us, Al.”

A beat of awkward silence passed between the two of you until you finally felt her breathing steady.

“You want to have a baby with me?”

You couldn’t contain your smile as she nodded ever so slightly into your neck. “Why didn’t you say anything before? We could have talked about it months ago. The only reason I never brought it up was that I assumed you didn’t want any more children running amuck in the castle. Imagine if they turned out to be just like Daniela.”

That got her to laugh a little. “I wouldn’t mind a baby running around; especially if they look like you.”

“Well I don’t know about that considering we would have to adopt.”

A mischievous smile crept on Alcina’s lips. “Who says we can’t have a baby ourselves?”

“Um, nature? We’re both women, Alcina. I don’t think I have to explain to you how that won’t work.”

Alcina chuckles into your neck. “We’d have quite the brood running around the castle if it did.”

“Then you want to find a donor?” She detached herself from you just enough to give you a look of disgust. “Of course not; no one is allowed to touch my y/n except me.” She flips you both over so you’re pinned underneath her. “There are ways we could have a baby, you know?”

A blush covered your cheeks down to your chest. “O-oh?”

“Mmhm. The old witch in the village could brew something up for us, should we choose to carry.” She laughs at your dumbfounded expression. “It would be a sex change tonic of sorts. Temporary of course, I believe it only lasts a week.”

You blush furiously.

“And depending on the portions of ingredients she uses we could change the erm, size, if you catch my drift.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, in real words at least. Something between a yelp and a whimper came out of your mouth instead. It gets a laugh out of Alcina at least.

“That’s really a thing we could do?”

She starts trailing kisses down your neck to your chest. “Oh yes,” her free hand comes up to pull your shirt down over your breasts. As soon as they pooled out of their confinement Alcina started circling one of your nipples with her tongue. “Would you like that, darling? To feel my cock pounding into you.”

Fuck you loved it when she talks dirty to you. But that turned you on more than you were willing to admit. You gave a shy nod.

Alcina rewards your honesty by taking your hardened nipple in her mouth and sucking. Her other hand moved up your body to rest on your other breast, gently kneading it like dough.

Alcina has always been fascinated with your breasts. Always burying her face in them when cuddling. She simply melted into them on bad days. Giving her a scalp massage at the same time earned you bonus points.

Her lips abandon your nipple, leaving a bridge of saliva still connecting you, and snuggled her face deep in between your breasts. She let out a long sigh and closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in the moment. Her eyes flutter open and you can see the corners of a smile buried in your chest. “What do you think, my love?”

“I think we should see how we do this weekend before making any big decisions.”

Alcina leaned forward only enough to kiss your lips. “Sounds like a plan.”

[spicykiwiis]

Late Night Café (pt. 1)

Summary: The streets of New York seem to change at night, and Bucky gets drawn in to the little café with strange work hours during a heavy storm. Lucky for him you really don't mind that he's drenched head to toe.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warning: None :)

Word Count: 2k

Series Masterlist

New York City completely changes at night.

Maybe it’s the lack of sunlight. Although these past few days have been pretty bleak, with rain forming puddles that cover the sides of the road and splash onto the sidewalk anytime a car drives by. Not that the sidewalks weren’t already wet though, this heavy rain hasn’t been forgiving, and not an inch of outside New York remains dry. Still though, even when the city hasn’t seen sunlight for what feels like forever now, the ambiance still shifts when it gets fully dark. It’s not that there’s a lack of people keeping it lively, no. I don’t think there’s ever going to be a point where the streets of New York have no people on them. Maybe it’s the type of people that are out. Surely that girl that walks by every early morning with her dog wagging its tail beside her is not the same girl that walks by at four in the morning with her heels in one hand and a beer in her other, bumping shoulders with her friends as they walk back from a night out.

You’d think with all the people that are out and about during those late nights in the city, some type of noise or chaos would follow them, but no. At some point in the night it always gets quiet, almost like a sense of stillness that slowly creeps up on you as the moon climbs up higher in the sky. And with that sense of stillness comes a sense of peace that covers the little café that lits up the dim streets of New York.

There’s a small sign on the door that says open 7am-6pm and then again 1am to 5am. It’s a weird schedule for a small local café to have, but still the little bell that hangs at the top of the door doesn’t cease to chime during those dark hours. It’s normally students that come in so late at night, looking for a caffeine boost that will help them get through those assignments that they’ve left for the last minute. There’s the insomniacs too though, and those always seem to be the same regular customers that have their orders ready for them when they stop by, like a sort of routine that gets created over time.

It’s been more quiet than normal the past few days though - heavy rain really seems to stop people from leaving the warmth of their apartments, no matter how sleep deprived they might be. The clock’s already at 2:34am, and if it were a normal day you would’ve already made and served at least 5 coffees. Even old Mike hadn’t shown up like he usually did every night at around 1:40, and now his mug stays empty and unused in the shelf, making you extremely aware of the absence of customers. You understand though, the rain is hitting extra heavy tonight, and the water that cascades down the windows makes the streetlights look distorted and blurry. No sane person would think to be out on the streets with this weather, but still you leave the small café open, busying yourself by wiping down a few tables and cleaning a few mugs and dishes Alfie from the dayshift had probably forgotten to clean.

The playlist you always played during these late shifts played quietly in the background, the smooth 40s jazz making you sway slightly side to side as you set the now clean dishes aside to dry. As much as you love serving customers, these rare empty nights are always appreciated from time to time, even if sometimes you can slowly feel loneliness creep up on you. You pushed those feeling down though, and right as you were about to step foot on the kitchen the small chime of the bell you had grown to appreciate over the years stopped you, catching you slightly off-guard.

It was a tall man that had just come in through the door. His short hair was completely drenched and was sticking down on his forehead, water droplets falling down his face. The black leather jacket he had on was completely wet, but lucky for him the impermeable material probably stopped the water from getting to the shirt he had underneath. He brought up a gloved hand and pushed back his hair, careful to not get anything wet.

“Sorry I- I don’t want to make a mess. I don’t have an umbrella and this was the only place open” his voice caught you off-guard, it’s softness making you relax your shoulders. You hadn’t noticed how tense you’d gotten, but a man his size coming in at almost 3 in the morning during a night like this would get anyone on edge. The hard look in his eyes had completely disappeared when he noticed and spoke to you, and you were glad about it.

“Oh please! Don’t worry, come in. Weather’s rough tonight. You can take a seat wherever.”

A small smile appeared on his face and disappeared as soon as it came, but you didn’t miss the look of relief on his face as he took a seat on one of the stools placed behind the main counter. You still took notice of how careful he was of not getting anything else wet, which was nice.

“What can I get you?” you smiled as you grabbed the little notepad clipped to your apron, ready to take his order.

“Uh- just a black coffee’s fine. Thank you.”

You nodded and walked over to the coffee maker, making sure everything was in order before making his coffee. He kept his jacket and gloves on, which slightly concerned you since he was drenched in water and probably freezing. You waited for the coffee to be made and watched from the corner of your eyes as he looked around the small café, stopping to look at all the doors in it for slightly longer periods of time. He seemed to be alert, but after a couple looks around the place he finally settled down completely.

The coffee machine came to a stop and you grab one of the mugs you had just cleaned, filling it to the top and grabbing a clean rag along the way as you went to serve it to him.

“Here’s your coffee. And here’s a clean rag if you want to dry yourself off a bit. Sorry I don’t have any towels on hand right now, I’d give you one if I did.” You placed the coffee in front of him and the rag next to it, smiling as he looked up to meet your eyes.

“Thank you.” He took the rag and brought it up to his hair, rubbing it to get rid of the excess water. “I’m sorry again- about the mess.”

You reassured him it was fine, that he didn’t even make a mess. It was only the entrance that had gotten wet, nothing a couple swipes with the mop could fix.

He still kept his gloves on even when holding the hot cup of coffee between his hands, but you decided not to question anything and went back to working. Most of the customers that came in during the late nigh shifts weren’t there to have a conversation anyways, just there to have something to drink and think about their lives. It was always interesting to see. There’s a lot of characters that come in so late at night, and working there you end up learning how to read people very well.

This guy though – he was hard to read. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, but you could tell he was still alert about what was going on around him. It was safe to say you hadn’t gotten a customer like him in the years you had been working here, and yet there was something weirdly comforting about his brooding presence. With the smooth jazz paying in the background, he seemed to belong there.

“Weird time for a café to be open.”

His deep voice catches you of guard again, he certainly didn’t seem like the type to come in and make conversation.

“Weird time to be drinking black coffee.” You replied back with amusement, both of you turning to look at the clock hanging on the wall to the left. 3:22am.

“Touché.”

He took a sip of his coffee and watched as you grabbed another clean mug and a tea bag, turning on the kettle that was next to the coffee machine. He seemed to be up for some distraction, so you spoke up again.

“So, what’s a guy like you doing walking around under pouring rain? With no umbrella too.”

“A guy like me?”

“I asked first. You can’t answer a question with another question.” You smiled in amusement, watching as he sat up on his stool. He looked at your face, and stayed silence for a few seconds. It was as if he was taking you in, deciding whether or not he wanted to have this conversation with you.

“Apartment felt crowded. Got too far out before I realised it was raining.”

“Wow. Must’ve been really deep in your thoughts if you didn’t notice yourself getting drenched.”

He shrugged and took another sip of his coffee, eyes wandering to the side. Taking in the empty tables that were scattered along the place. The café was small, so there where only three tables along with the six stools that were placed in a row along the counter. Plants covered most of the place, and if you paid close attention you could smell the fresh and somewhat sweet scent they gave off. He changed the subject.

“I am curious though. I’ve never seen small cafés like this open so late.”

“You’d be surprised at the amount of people that stop by. Some people just need an escape late at night that sleep can’t give them.” The corners of his mouth turned up at this, almost like he knew exactly what you were talking about. “And students. Sleep deprived students that leave their assignments to the last minute sure do keep the business alive.”

He let out a chuckle at this comment, and for a second your breath got caught on your throat. There was no denying this man was extremely handsome, and something about his laugh gave you a weird feeling at the pit of your stomach.

“Late Night Café. It’s a fitting name.”

“Funny enough there were no night shifts when we started. Figured we should stay true to the name though, and here we are.”

It seemed like the rain was slowly starting to cease now. The loud noise of the water hitting the window glass was slowing down, and the streets were starting to look clearer now that the rain was not constantly washing down the glass.

“You’re in luck, it looks like the rain is starting to slow down.” You nodded to the glass and he turned his head, taking in the way the once pouring water turned into water droplets that slid down it. He let out a hum in response.

Now that the rain had slowed down, a couple other customers appeared through the door, bell chiming each time they walked through the door. You could see him taking in the people that came through, listening to their orders and watching as you moved around getting the orders ready. He had asked for a refill in the middle of this, and you smiled as you poured more hot coffee into his empty mug. As much as you liked the empty nights, there was something about serving the people that came through that made you feel peaceful. It was like second nature to you.

“You really seem to be in your element.” He spoke again as you cleaned the mug of a customer that had just left, and you smiled in content.

“Been doing this for a long time now.”

You took in his state now, noticing how his hair was completely dry now and his leather jacket no longer had water droplets sliding off it. He seemed to be less alert now too, maybe because he had taken in the whole café now. As you went to set down the mug you just cleaned he looked at the clock, noticing it was already almost four in the morning. You watched as he stood up from his stool.

“I should probably get going. Thanks for the coffee. And the shelter too.” He placed a twenty-dollar bill on the table besides his coffee mug and gave you a small smile getting ready to leave.

“Woah- wait. Coffee here’s definitely not that expensive. Let me get your change.” You went over to the cash register, but he stopped you.

“Don’t worry about it, keep the change. Consider it an apology for getting the place wet.”

“I can’t let you do that; you didn’t even make a mess-”

“Really it’s okay. I won’t take the change if you give it to me.” He smiled once again, placing his hands on his leather jacket pockets to stop you from trying to place the change in his hands.

“Okay fine – but let me at least give you something for the way back.”

He wanted to say no, but you were adamant on this, so you grabbed one of the savoury pastries that you had on display and placed it on a takeaway bag for him, smiling in achievement when he took the small paper bag. He smiled at you, saying a quick bye as he left through the door, bell chiming and leaving the café feeling more quiet than ever.

You soon realised that you never got his name, and part of you wished that you had asked, even if that was something you never asked to new customers. Besides, who knows if he’ll ever stop bye again. You were grateful for the heavy rain now, and little did you know he was too, because thanks to it he found out about the little café lighting up that dark street of New York.

******

A/N: Hey! I haven't written anything in what feels like years, let alone post anything. I hope yall like this, i might turn it into a series, i'll have to see if inspiration hits. Anyways thanks for reading!

[imkylotrash]

Meet Me In The Hallway (3)

Pairing: Sky x reader

Summary: Stella is losing patience and when you follow Sky into the forest to find the Burned One, she lets part of your secret slip as a warning. 

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody

Series Masterlist

“I thought I saw you leave Sky’s room and then I thought… That can’t be true. Y/N wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that when they know what I know.”

You really hate Stella. Slowly, you turn around to face her preparing yourself for the venomous smile she no doubt has plastered on her face. Barely anytime has gone by but you’re already getting very tired of having her threaten you.

“Silva is hurt. He needed someone to comfort him. That’s all.” You’re dog-tired wishing for a peaceful sleep but Stella has other plans.

“If Sky needs comforting, I will make sure he gets it. Not you.” It baffles you how she claims to care for him when all she does it look after her own needs. Frankly, you don’t care who gets to comfort him as long as he’s not alone. You’d give up just about anything to make sure he’s happy but Stella seems to think it’s him who should give up everything for her. 

“Are you really that selfish you’ll put your own happiness above his?” you dare ask tired of her games. 

“I’m going to give you one last chance to fix this,” she starts completely ignoring your question. 

“I have to stay away from him. I get it,” you interrupt her about to turn around and walk away when she stops you. 

“I want you to convince him to go on a date with me. He’s been too occupied sulking over you to show any interest in me. I want you to make him realise that I’m the obvious choice.” She must’ve lost her mind. For a whole minute you simply just stare at her taking her words in. She wants you to convince Sky to fall in love with her. In the middle of everything going on with Silva. Is she completely mental? 

“Did you hear me or do I need to repeat myself?” In an attempt to act unbothered, she checks her nails but you see right through her. All the insecurities and abandonment issues shine bright in the dark and you briefly pity her. Everyone has heard the rumours of her mother and the way she’s been treated, but you came from a horrible life too and you didn’t turn into a bitch. 

“I heard you.” 

“Great. You can tell him I’ll be waiting in my room.” She walks past you not even bothering to ask how Silva is doing. Despite your need for some proper sleep, you decide to head down to the greenhouse. Mr. Harvey is adding a fresh coat of the herb mix to Silva’s wounds. 

“Sky is sleeping,” you quickly say to easy Silva’s mind. He sits back down revealing the pain he’s in. 

“Can I help with anything?” you ask needing something to occupy your mind from what Stella asked of you. How can you focus on that when Silva could be dying? 

“Maybe you could cool me down again? It really helped me rest.” You oblige placing your hand on his forehead and channeling just the slightest magic into the palm of your hand. It’s an instant effect when the ice hits him. Slowly his skin returns to a normal shade rather than the hot red it was mere minutes ago. 

“Thank you,” he whispers lying down on the table again. It must be really bad if he’s so willing to show weakness. In the time you’ve known Silva, he’s never shown weakness about anything. You know it would be a different story if Sky were here though. He’d never want Sky to know just how much pain he’s in and you can’t blame him. It would crush Sky. 

“No problem. I can come back in a few hours to do it again?” You look to Mr. Harvey for signs whether that’s a good idea or not. He gives you a quick nod before continuing his work. You mean to head to your room but you spot a blonde boy who’s sneaking out the backdoor. 

“Are you kidding me?” With a sigh, you follow him outside realising that he’s heading straight for the forest. 

“Sky, where are you going?” you ask and the sound of your voice stops him dead in his tracks. 

“I’m going to find the Burned One that got Saul. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.” He’s not looking at you. Probably because he knows you’ll try to talk him out of it. 

“Please stay. Marco is out looking as we speak and I’m sure he’ll find it.” You’re desperate to keep him protected within the barrier but you’re always painfully aware of the fact that Sky is one of the most stubborn people you’ve ever met. You’re not sure you’ll be able to convince him especially now that you’re broken up. 

“I’m not waiting for someone else to save him. Saul is all I have left.” It’s a brutal reminder of what you took from him when you ended things and it tugs at your heartstrings just how badly you hurt him. 

“Then I’m coming with you.” If he’s going out there, you need to be there too. You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to him and you had the chance to stop it. 

“You’re not going with me,” he says as if he has any say at all. 

“If you’re going, I’m going. Package deal, remember?” It’s something you started saying after Riven kept commenting on the fact that you never went anywhere without each other and up until recently you never have. He doesn’t look pleased but he also doesn’t say no. He just hands you a small dagger for you to hold onto to. You grab hold of the water drops lying on the grass and freeze them before levitating them in the air. 

“I think I’m good.” He takes the dagger back without a word and proceeds to the forest. It’s a long trek but you don’t complain. You asked to be here and as much as you hate the uncomfortable silence that’s formed between the two of you, you’re glad you’re here. There’s no point in the search because it’s impossible to figure out what direction the Burned One headed but all you can do is keep a lookout and hope you get lucky. 

“Stop,” you whisper grabbing hold of his sleeve. He stops moving but you feel the shiver in his arm where your fingers grazed his skin. 

“Sorry,” you mumble letting go of him. A little further ahead, you see something move. Sky pulls out his sword and you channel your feelings ready to freeze it in place. It’s not the first time you and Sky has worked together, but it is the first time it’s been outside of training. 

“I freeze, you stab.” He nods hardly moving a muscle. You direct your power at the Burned One freezing every part of it to keep it from moving. You hold it in place feeling the fire inside of it trying to beat your ice but as you see Sky run towards it, you feel more motivated than ever to win. He stabs it right through its core and when you feel its resistance die out, you let go of control. It falls to the ground officially dead. 

“We did it,” you say out of breath. How you haven’t passed out from sleep deprivation yet is beyond you but it’s catching up to you now. 

“I’ll call Silva,” you say ignoring the need to fall asleep right here on the ground. It takes two rings before he picks up shouting about how irresponsible you are for taking off and hunting Burned Ones yourself. He doesn’t say thank you, but you know it’s hidden between the lines. 

“He’s definitely feeling better,” you say once he’s done giving both of you an earful. He demands you both return to school at once and now that you’ve killed the right one, you can oblige easily. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” Sky says on your way back.

“Of course. I know what Silva means to you.” This time the silence is comfortable almost as if nothing went wrong between the two of you. But Stella’s ultimatum is still weighing heavy on your mind. 

“Can I ask you to do something without any questions?” you ask him right before you reach the barrier. 

“What is it?” he asks but you need him to promise you before you tell him. You know he’ll never agree to it otherwise. 

“Promise me,” you say pausing just before the barrier. From here you can see the school and the students training out on the grass as if it’s just a normal day. But to them it probably is.

“I promise.” 

“I need you to take Stella on a date.” His glare might just pierce you from pure anger. 

“No questions. You promised!” He’s about to protest but stops himself. He’s a man of his word even if he hates it right now.

“Fine.” He starts walking leaving you behind. The second people spot you, they stare at you like you just arrived with the circus. 

“Is that them?”

“Do you think it’s true?” 

“Are we in danger?” Everyone is whispering and pointing fingers making you feel incredibly uncomfortable. You notice Musa not too far away and head over to her. 

“What’s going on?” Before she has a chance to tell you, a first year taps you on the shoulder. A bunch of girls are watching from afar making it obvious that the first year in front of you is here on a dare. 

“Is it true?” she asks continuously looking back at her friends. 

“Is what true?” you ask confused ignoring the sneaking suspicion you feel. 

“Is it true that you’re a changeling?” 

[ask-feederjin]

Hi!!~~ <3 So... How much has Jungkook's physical condition changed?

Do you think he tires easily with physical tasks? I can only imagine him puffing all the time ><

Jin had just put the final revisions on a work project when a notification popped up on his computer.

“Hi!!~~ <3 So... How much has Jungkook's physical condition changed?

Do you think he tires easily with physical tasks? I can only imagine him puffing all the time ><”

Oh if only, Jin sighs softly. He wishes he could say that their youngest does, but that would be a lie. Either way, Anon needs an answer!

-

Oh, he wishes! Poor Jungkook has a ridiculously fast metabolism, much to his dismay. It was great for him when he was a gym rat, effortlessly maintaining his washboard abs. But now it is his ultimate curse.

We’ve been doing research on how to lower or, in Jungkook’s words, “completely ruin” his metabolism.

So far, we’ve chosen to have him switch to a completely sedentary activity level, bulk up on carbs, flip into “starvation mode” between stuffings and replacing that banana milk he likes to drink with soda. We also heard that lack of sleep can contribute to a drop in metabolism, but I vetoed that one. Jungkook may be willing to suffer sleep deprivation to get fatter, but that’s not something I’m willing to support.

On the topic of him getting tired… Hmm… I think it would only really happen if he was going out of his way to be active? Like, him just walking around or lifting basic things doesn’t phase him yet, but exercise on the other hand… Give me one second!

-

“Jungkook!” Jin called out.

“Yeah?” He heard back. It sounded like Jungkook had just woken up from a post breakfast nap.

“Could you come here please, baby?” Jin was now curious. How has his physicality changed in the past two months? Would he get out of breath easily? Or has his years of exercise and healthy eating still blocked that?

“Do I have to?” He whined. Jin felt butterflies in his stomach at just how lazy his boyfriend has gotten.

“Yes!” Jin laughed.

After what sounded like some shuffling and grunting, Jungkook sleepily wandered into Jin’s office.

“You never make me come to you…” The youngest complained halfheartedly, scratching his tummy.

“Forgive me just this once, your highness.” Jin snarked back. “I just wanted to… do a little test.”

Jungkook perked up the the word ‘test’. Jin knew he would never pass up an opportunity to prove himself.

“What do I need to do?” The younger man asked excitedly, watching as Jin pushed his rolling desk chair to the corner of the room.

“Well… first I’m going to need you to stand riiiight here. There, perfect!” Jin maneuvered the taller boy to stand right in front of his computer screen. “Wait just a second, babe.”

The screen suddenly changed from spreadsheets to a camera screen. Jin pressed record…

-

The video starts off in a well kept room. Orderly bookshelves line the background, tiny potted vines trailing down the fronts.

Pulling away from the screen, you catch a blurry glimpse of knobby knuckles and trimmed nails. Front and center stands a rather tall young man. He has short, shiny black hair and warm brown eyes. Said eyes are currently large with confusion.

The young man is wearing a rather ill-fitting set of pajamas. The bottoms fit well enough, but the top’s buttons are slightly strained. A soft looking paunch hangs out from the too small shirt, wobbling as the young man shifts uncertainly. He rests both hands on the mass, rubbing slowly.

“Okay, -ahem-.” You hear a man’s voice says off camera say. “Hello, everyone! This is the first video I’ll be uploading to the blog, yay! It was originally going to be the third month weigh in, but it seems I just couldn’t wait.”

The young man on screen chuckles a bit, relaxing at the lighthearted conversation.

The voice resumes speaking, “Either way! We’re here now! This is Jungkook, some of you might recognize his face from the profile section of the blog, but if you haven’t then here he is! Say hi, Kookie.”

Jungkook blushes, waving at the camera. “Hi guys… I’m uh, I’m Jungkook.”

…

“Oh! And I’m Jin!” The disembodied voice frantically shouts. Jungkook bursts into giggles. “I’m Jin! The owner of the blog! I’m also apparently an idiot.” Jin ducks his head into the camera, giving you an unattractive, sideways close up of his eyes and nose.

“Veryprofessional, Jin.” Jungkook grins teasingly.

Jin’s too-close head turns, presumably to glare at the focus of the video. “Yes, I am a professional thank you very much. Now take your shirt off, fatty.”

Jin walks to the side of the room again, giving you a nearly full view of Jungkook’s body. The young man blushes again, levity gone, and starts to unbutton his sleep shirt.

With each button undone, the fabric gratefully springs to the side. Soon the boy’s tan tummy lays bare, angry looking stretchmarks decorating the lower part of it.

Jungkook tosses his shirt off camera, breathing slowly and evenly. “Wh-what now?”

“Jiggle it.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched, eyes closing slightly. He brings both large hands to his jello like gut and proceeds to bounce it up and down. For a minute of two, he shakes it briefly, only to let go and wait for the jiggly mass to settle. He stares at the camera, as if he’s watching himself in the feedback footage.

One hand slides up to cup his soft chest, while the other slaps gently at his belly entranced by the bounce.

“Now, turn to your side.” Jin’s voice startles Jungkook out of his self exploration. Jin himself walks towards the now sideways Jungkook, pressing up against his back. Jin reaches his arms around Jungkook to lift the younger man’s pot belly. He squeezes, pinches and lets it drop to watch it wobble.

“Tsk tsk tsk…” He pokes a long finger into the pliant flesh. “Someone’s let himself go it seems…”

“Ah~! I- I have!” Jungkook moans. “I’m soooo lazy, and- and greedy.”

“Lazy is right you little piggy.” Jin pulls away from playing with the taller boy’s belly button, walking back off screen. “Why don’t we give our viewer’s a little show? See how out of shape you’ve really gotten?”

Jungkook can only nod, face a bright red.

“Gimme fifty jumping jacks.”

“Fifty?! Jin! That’s too many!” Jungkook gapes at the man off screen.

“You used to do sets of eighty not even a year ago, I’m sure your fat ass can manage one set of fifty.”

“I’ll try I guess…” Jungkook doesn’t look optimistic. He gets in position anyway and starts counting out loud.

“One, two, three, four, five, six…”

The up and down movement vigorously shakes his little jelly belly, truly revealing just how much fat had accumulated there.

“Fifteen, sixteen, seh-seventeen, eight -hah hah- eighteen…” The poor boy’s face was tomato red and shiny with sudden sweat. His arms keep perfect time, but his legs move less far apart with each jump.

“Nine-hah-teen, twenty!” Jungkook is huffing now, tiny breasts quaking each time he lands. He is so out of breath now that he only mutters what vaguely sounds like numbers with each jumping jack.

“Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three���” Jin picks up where the out of breath young man left off. “Come on tubby, you were doing this in your sleep six months ago! What happened?”

Jungkook is gasping now, arms waving less with each jump, feet not even moving apart. A drop of sweat hangs precariously off of a perky nipple, only to fall onto his gut not even a second later.

“Are you seriously this out of shape?” Jin sounds genuinely surprised now, instead of teasing. Jungkook plops onto the floor panting. His previously neat hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, neck and chest pink from effort. “Kookie, you only did 31 jumping jacks.”

“I- gasp- I can’t…” The chubby boy leans back against the bookshelf. “I’m too fat…”

“Oh no. I’ll be the one to tell you when you’re too fat. Right now?” Jin squats down and smacks Jungkook’s sweaty belly, eliciting a moan from the boy. “You’re barely overweight.”

“I’ll get bigger! I promise!” The younger man pleads, having seemingly forgotten about the fact that he’s being recorded.

“Bigger? Eating like you are now? I don’t think so. You’re going to have to pick up the pace if you want to be the fattest boy in the house. Even Hobi will get bigger than you at this rate.” Jin gave Jungkook’s red, sweaty paunch one last wobbling pat before standing back up again. Jungkook stays on the ground, not even bothering to hide the bulge in his pajama pants.

“Okay guys!” The older man addresses the camera, winking. “It looks like Jungkook can still do thirty one jumping jacks before he gives up. You could say his stamina isn’t what it used to be! I’m gonna get this little piggy back to bed now. I think the poor thing’ll need another nap after so much exercise. Thank you for watching!”

Jin leans forward

The screen goes black.

-

I went ahead and attached a video instead of just writing down the answer ^-^;

I hope you don’t mind using headphones, haha! It got a little steamy there for a second… I should really get a video editing program so I can cut out those bits of me turning the camera on and off. Maybe even use my phone next time or something.

Oh well, lessons for later.

I hope that answers your question, Anon!

[cuddlesslut]

Closure

Part Nine to Home

Atsumu x Fem Reader, Suna x Fem Reader, Hinata x Fem Reader

Summary: it’s been so long since you’ve seen each other it’s time for closure

Warnings: angst just angst

A/N : okay first thank you to everyone who has been checking on me thank you so much for all your support. I’m so sorry it took so long to update. It’s been a rough month for me. I’ve been dealing with a lot of depression and personal struggles. So I haven’t had the energy to write. I was finally able to put this together sorry it’s extremely unedited and also sorry if it’s not what you were expecting. I will be writing more to this however I can not say how quickly I will be able to get out the chapters. Again sorry for the inconvenience.

Part Eight: Hope

Your heart beated rapidly as you stared across at Atsumu. It had been months since you had seen your former lover and as much as you wished you were over him it still hurt. Looking at him he hadn’t changed much still as handsome as ever. Although he seemed more sullen not nearly as peppy as he used to be. His Hair had grown out a little more shaggy than it had been , and there were slight bags under his eyes.

The setter sat across from you eyes trained on the drinks sitting in his hands that he had yet to sip from. You could feel the warmth of your coffee through the palm of your hands. A sad grin graced your face. He had ordered your favorite. After all this time he still remembers. That small smile was the only contrast to the somber intensity of this reunion.

Atsumu cleared his throat breaking you from your trance. “I owe you the biggest apology ever, YN, I am so so sorry for what I did,” he stated his voice shaky. He paused looking up at you unshed tear building in his eyes. “ what I did to you was unforgivable I know that, I was the biggest ass to you when all you ever did was support me. I was selfish and I want you to know I’ll never ask you to forgive me because I will never forgive myself.” Atsumu could feel his cheeks becoming damp as he quickly wiped away his tears. He knew he had no right to be sad. He took a deep breath ready to continue his apology when a small whimper escaped you. When your eyes met his he could see the trail out tears streaming down your face. It pained him to see you like this. You had never given him the chance to see your pain before.

Your throat felt tight as you tried to form your words. Part of you wanted to scream at him and tell him how shitty of a person he is. Who cares that he’s sorry it doesn’t change things. But you care. God do you feel like an idiot for doing so but you do. You loved this man for years of you’re life. And no matter the pain he put you through it still hurt to see him like this. You had never seen Atsumu cry in the 6 years of being with him. So seeing him so destroyed right in front of you was a complete shock.

“Why,” you finally chocked out.

“Because you never deserved what I put you through-” he began

“NO,” you snapped losing your composure for a moment. “Why did you do it!”

His eyes grew wide understanding your meaning.

“Why Atsumu! What did I do? Where did i go wrong! Was I not good enough?” You hiccuped tearing streaming down you’re broken face.

“No!” He snapped hurt that you’d ever think of yourself that way. “No don’t you ever think that way YN! You were perfect, You were there for me no matter what, you are beautiful and smart and the kindest person I know it was not your fault!”

“Then why Sumu! Why did you ruin us!” Your voice raising an octave.

“BECAUSE I WAS WEAK!” he broke tears hot tears falling freely. “I was weak and selfish! You were busy and never had time for me anymore because of school. You rarely came to my games at the time. And when I was at home you were always busy studying!” He looked at your shocked expression. “But looking back it was completely unfair of me to feel like that! I know that! Going to school was your dream just like volleyball was mine! I was selfish I know that now! After these months of therapy I’ve realized I was selfish our whole relationship.” He stopped catching his breath and calming down. He didn’t want to be the impulsive man he used to be. This maybe the last time he speaks to you he doesn’t want to ruin it by being heated.

You waited as he calmed himself. Observing the man in front of you. While he may look like him the man in front of you was not the Atsumu Miya you knew. You could see that clearly now. The man you knew would have brushed this off, or made round about excuses never taking responsibility. This was a new man. The Sumu you knew didn’t believe in therapy. And you have to admit you’re glad he’s getting help.

Atsumu opened his eyes looking up at you. “I know it may not seem like it YN but I love you I always have and I always will, I know I was shit at showing it but it’s true,” he sighed “but I also know that you deserve way better than me.” He took a deep breath knowing this next part would be the hardest to say. “ I know our lives overlap, in more ways than I thought apparently,” thinking back to the fact that his teammate was head over heels for you, “but i promise I won’t make your life hard, I’ll keep my distance, and if you want me completely out of your life I make sure to stay away, I won’t ever bother you if that’s what you want, although I will miss you, I want you to be happy.” He gave a soft and hopeful smile knowing this was the least that he could do.

This was not what you expected at all when choosing to meet with him. Although it was a relief in a way to have some sort of closure. He has definitely changed that much you can see. But your feelings were still so jumbled. One thing was made clear through this emotional meeting though. While part of you wanted to hate him, a big part of you still cared. But you were certain now that it wasn’t the same as before. You were sure that you had finally moved forward from your love of Atsumu Miya. Yes you still cared deeply for him but he no longer held your heart.

Looking down at your cup of coffee you finally allowed yourself a sip of the sweet liquid relishing in all the memories it brought with it. Atsumu sat patiently wait for your response not wanting to rush you. Even if his lunch break was well past ended he didn’t care volleyball could wait, he owed you that. After several moments of thoughtful silence you spoke.

“I need time,” you stated. “I don’t hate you, but I’m just not ready to forgive you yet, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for you to be in my life. Or if I ever will be, for right now I’d appreciate if you kept your distance as I continue to heal and reach my decision.”

The setter nodded accepting your choice. He stood slowly making sure to give a good long look to the woman he loved knowing this may be the last time you speak. “This is goodbye then,” he sighs giving you a small nod to which you return. He goes to leave with a heavy heart. He stops turning back to you. Your attention is fully on him still.

“He really cares about you ya know,” he gives a small smile and wave before turning around and finally walking away.

You hadn’t expected those words from him. A small giggled left your lips. You had no clue which man he meant.

Home Masterlist

Taglist: @animeboihoe @karlitabi-rrito @mutli-fandom-fanfic @comically-sleep-deprived @madmelle @momoinot @eggbutnotyolk @yunhosblackgf @6sakusa @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @a-fucking-simp @its-babybitch @sakusasonlywife @japanushiiiii @dekuspet @sredamancy @haikyuusimp91 @shoyosbitchh @far-off-dream @tsukkisfatsimp @nestlevanilla @simply-not-the-same e @porcolie @uwubby-1 @ahopefulbouquetcollection @graykageyama @elianetsantana @allykat7599 @airybnb @wonhomarshmallow @minnieminnie00-got7 @weebtato @toshiswifey @takeyin-withyang @zero-nightshade @mrskags @ilhy2003 @neonartbat-1316 @isleofnajera @boosyboo9206 @chocoshek @bbypebble @roschea-arts @haikyuu-love-ships @memekingofwwiii @ems1des @the3rdstalltoilet @gabixiio @peacchfuz @m-i-n-t-y-fresh @onechichirya @itoshiwhore @plusultra2dwhore @oranoyaora @x-enia @annie-sae @tlhinthemaking

Hi I tried to tag everyone if I missed anyone please send me an ask.some accounts couldn’t be tagged.

[skzfairies]

SOFIA KIM YOUTUBE UPDATE !

yuri has upload her first ever youtube video since pre-debut on her channel, sofia kim! sofia is the name she went by in amercia. she uploaded her chaotic and interesting video on july 1st, 2021, at 12am KST. enjoy!

likes: 978k

comments: 574k

“hello everyone! welcome to my channel :DD, today i’ll be answering your questions that you all left for me, leeeettttttssss go!”

she just stared at the camera after her intro because she had no idea what to say...

queue editor yuri arriving 😍😍

miss girl really was slouching in her bed with her hair in a very messy bun with her big ass glasses on and her classic black hoodie covering her neck and the top of her hair 😭🤞

that was very detailed but i gotta give you the VISUALS

yuri, probably sleep deprived from editing 382929 videos in one night: WHY AM I SO 🐬🐬🐬🐬 AWKWARD 😡😡

did she really put a dolphin noise to censor her cursing? ✨😍yes she did😍✨

SHE WAS SO AGGRESSIVE PLEASE YOU COULD TELL SHE WAS YELLING

she had the camera edited to look like it was shaking and everything 😭

she prolly woke up the whole dorm stop it 😭

she can’t have kq taking her channel away on the first day 🙄🙄

the CEO called her and told her that part was the funniest part of the video 😭😭

SHE WAS SO EMBARSSED

she realized how agressive she sounded so she was like ....😀

yuri, now regretting all life decisions she has made in her 23 years of living: i’m so sorry that was very agressive please forgive me-

OKAY BACK TO THE VIDEO

“okay first question, what is your most memorable moment with the boys?”

she took awhile to think about this one

there was so many good memories between and the boys so it’s hard to just pick just one

but a lot of them were very personal and she wasn’t ready to share it yet, so she just went with one that atiny had seen, she still finds it very very memorable and she holds it very close to her heart!

“it’s hard to pick just one, because the boys have been there for me so many times, and we just have so many great memories, i would say our whole time as ateez but that would be a bad answer 😭. so my answer is when we were doing a concert in LA...i’m sure you guys know where i’m going with them. um, when we performing our last song, i just....started sobbing. the worst part was it was right before my part and i couldn’t even do it because i was crying so hard. *laughs*. so it was just silent...then everyone knew i was crying...rip me.”

editor yuri back again: GOD imange crying in front of thousands yuri, what a loser 🙄🤚

she was kidding guys i promise

“but i just remember all the boys coming and hugging me and atiny cheering for me. it was just such a special moment because the majority of my family was at the concert...and i was back in my home state after a year and could see my family and old friends, but i was here with ateez, infront of atiny, and i think that’s the moment where it really set in that we made it, you know? it was so sweet too because all the boys were trying to cheer me up :(. i love them very much! okay next question before i ramble too long.”

miss bæ almost started crying thinking back on that memory BUT WE DONT TALK ABOUT IT

“do you ever want to have your own line, like a fashion line?”

her face was like 😧😧

she never thought about that but now that she does she actually want to do it

“i haven’t thought about this before, but having a fashion like would be so fun, omg that would be so cool! maybe a like....makeup collection too. ohhh that would be fun. we’ll see hehe.”

wydm “we’ll see” bestie yuri prolly already forgot about it 😀 we stan our forgetful queen ✨✨

“how have you been recently yuri? what is something you do to help your mental health? i’ve been doing pretty good, thanks for asking! i’m kinda busy currently, but i’m doing okay :D. and things to improve my mental health...i don’t know. i journal my negative feelings down and then try and think of the positives afterwards, but that can be hard sometimes. if i can’t do that i rewatch a series or a movie that i know will improve my mood...i try not to self sabotage myself 😀. or i just go into one of the members rooms and hang out with them, they can normally make my day better without realizing it :)”

bestie talks about the boys so much omg <333 she loves them with all her heart

“what are some plans you have for the future, if you don’t mind sharing with us?”

she said 😳😳😳

she was scared to answer this question because like....what if she accidently spoils something

but then she remembered it wasn’t live so if she couldn’t share it she could just cut it out 😭

“um, i don’t wanna spoil anything...so i’ll just talk about the future future , you know 😀.”

her manager was trying so hard not to laugh at her because yuri kept looking over at her 😭

“i want to get a dog, even though i have a cat i’m sure they will get along great! leo (her cat) is very playful after he’s done being shy! also...i want to...um...😀. what do i want to do? oh oh oh, i want to meet the cast of fear street! i’d definitely be shaking in my boots if i ever did meet them 😀”

miss girl is IN LOVE with deena and sam <3

“what are your goals in life? i want to be happy, and have peace. which i have that pretty much now, but it’s hard to keep. and sometimes it’s out of your control, but you have to keep going. i want to make others happy too, and i want to be an idol as long as i can, and keep making music and keep sharing it with you all!”

she also wants to marry yuqi BUT SHE CANT SAY THAT HERE 😀

“what keeps you going? what keeps you modivated?”

another question she had to think hard about 😭😭😭

STOP GIVING THE GIRL HARD QUESTIONS 😭😭😭😭

just kidding she loves them :DDD

“to be honest...yuqi keeps me modivated. whenever things get hard, i always go to her and she can always calm me down and cheer me up. she’s my bestest friend, i miss her a lot...yuqi, i love you!”

SOMGMI CRUMBS SOMGMI CRUMBS

she had the biggest smile on her face when she talked about yuqi

her love eyes were ACTIVATED ‼️‼️‼️‼️

“yuri...who inspired you to write misbehave?”

hi okay giving u guys some context, misbehave is one of the songs on her solo album and the song claim is misbehave by monsta x

um....i’ll show u one of the lyrics 😀

I love it when we misbehave // They say that we got issues, but girl, that's why I'm with you // Love it when we mess things up // Every time we argue, straight into the bedroom // And we only break up, just so we can make up // And I can hear you call my name // I love it when we misbehave

there’s others too....

it’s not the most scandalous song she’s written but prolly the most scandalous song she released minus deja vu 😀

SHE DIDNT KNOW HOW TO RESPOND TO THAT 😀😀😀😀

because um....song yuqi was her inspiration....but SHE CANT SAY THAT ???)/!/!/!/&/8//8

she quickly recovered from her shock tho 😭

did she edit out her going 😳😳 ???

✨ n o ✨

gotta keep atinys on their toes 🙄🤚

“i just wrote it based off...movies. yeah, no one really inspired it. i just kinda thought of a concept and ran with it? if that makes sense.”

yuri can never escape the dating scandals

i think everyone knows at this point she has a girlfriend 😀

“what’s your favorite ateez song? literally all of them. how dare you make me pick? but hm...i really like inception, or my way....because i wrote it 😏. just kidding! my way is on the top of my list because it’s just...really meaningful to me. i cant really pick a favorite song i’m sorry guys 😭”

this was before fever part 3 but if you asked her this now she would say rocky...no hesitation ‼️

“what’s your favorite thing to do in your free time ? minus making music yuri...rest bestie 💔”

her answer was literally going to be writing songs BUT ATINY KNOWS HER SO WELL

she was just like 😦😐 😪

“atiny it’s a crime you know me so well, but since i can’t say anything work related 🙄, my favorite thing to do when i’m free is probably hanging out with my friends yuqi....or sleeping. oh! i like to bake too! i made some cookies last night and they are so good!!! they are probably all gone by now though....💔”

she loves her boys...when they don’t steal her cookies

just kidding she loves sharing with them 🥰

“okay....last question! how do you get over writers block? ......you just don’t. i’m kidding i’m kidding! if i can’t think of anything to write i kinda just....leave it. i quit writing for a few days and just think about it, and slowly ideas will come to be. i just jot down the small ideas i have and eventually they turn into bigger pieces!”

“thank you guys so much for watching! dont forget to like, comment, and subscribe! i love you guys so much, stay safe and take care of yourself! see you next week :D”

bestie had so much fun making this !!!!

the video was kind of short but you know, this was kind of her tester video so she didn’t want it to be that long :))

but stay tuned for more youtube videos from yuri 🥰

taglist: @chaerincore @ateezjuliet @atzaria @shinyddeonghwa @m00niesk7 @enhycloud @lcvergirl

[amysteriousmessenger]

could i request mc comforting suit in day 9,,, like a fluff version of the dangerous game fic haha

I’m so honoured you even referenced my fic in this request lmao!! I hope I did okay for you, I don’t get enough Suit Saeran requests, I love him so much! <3 people PLEASE request more Suity, i think i got a little carried away 

TW: mentions of abuse and everything that usually comes with Suity

Reader Comforting Suit!Saeran Headcanons

This was... a delicate situation. You still hadn’t quite adapted to the whiplash of Ray leaving and Saeran coming, so violently, into your life. He had been cruel, cold and vindictive. You knew that, he knew that. You could see how difficult it had been for Saeran to come to you like this, to repent the actions that he couldn’t take back. He knew it wasn’t right him to repeat the abuse that he had been given and inflict it once again upon you. He knew that even with his apology, he didn’t deserve his actions forgiven. He didn’t want you to forgive him, he had wronged you too much to receive your forgiveness. An apology wouldn’t right his actions at that point. 

He said what he needed to say and turned to leave, but you tentatively caught his stiff hand with your own cold fingers as he tried to walk passed. - ‘Saeran, wait-’ you called out to stop him leaving. ‘What is it?’ He asked, briskly. You weren’t sure what to say, you didn’t think you’d get this far, actually. He didn’t shake your touch away, and you knew he craved affection in the same way that Ray did, he just absolutely didn’t know how to go about acquiring it. You let your fingers hover over his skin for another second or so whilst you figured out what it was you wanted to say, but nothing came to mind, so all you could manage was: - ‘Sit with me a while?’ 

Suddenly, Saeran’s presence didn’t seem so looming as he sat next to you on the bed. He looked between you and his hands and you could see it was actively trying not to pick at them. You held out your own hands to him and took one of his in your own. His hands were bruised, scarred and a little bit swollen to the touch, probably from unseen lacerations on his arms from his ‘cleansing’. Saeran’s icy gaze never left the point in which the two of you were connected. You were worried he’d feel your pulse racing as you gingerly stroked one of your thumbs up and across his knuckles, lightly grazing over his bruises as to not hurt him, but to remind him that, in that moment, he was not alone. 

It was evident that he didn’t really have anything else to say, but that was okay. You looked at him, really looked at him. He was so thin, so gaunt. His lips were chapped, split in the corner and you could see the blue veins visible under his skin. The dark bags under his eyes appeared to be more like bruises than anything a simple lack of sleep could have caused. It broke your heart into dust to even picture how many years of abuse and neglect someone has to suffer to look so... sad. 

Without really thinking, you lifted his hand up to your lips and placed a kiss onto his knuckles. You held his hand against your lips for a few short seconds, closing your eyes as you did so as though to mutter a silent prayer, a wish. You opened them again to find Saeran staring at you, slightly wide-eyed and his mouth parted. He seem surprised, you supposed he’d never been kissed before. Saeran had once taunted you for kissing Ray, unable to process the fact he was both upset and jealous that you hadn’t kissed him in the same way, and now here you were, kissing the very hands he had hurt and berated you with. He was an ocean of turmoil within.

He remained silent, watching you bestow these little fragments of affection upon him. To you, he might have looked cold in that moment, but to Saeran: he was scared that if he moved even a fraction, he’d break entirely. He couldn’t do that yet, he had things to do. He no longer had the luxury to walk around Magenta as he pleased. He didn’t want to rush this moment of tenderness that he had been so abhorrently deprived of for all his waking memory. It was a tenderness for him: not Ray, not an ideal, not for the scary strongest Believer, but for him. It was in this exact moment that Saeran knew he had fallen for you like Ray, and just as hard. He wanted to stay, to savour that unknown intimacy but circumstance left him no choice. 

Saeran sighed and stood, letting your own hands fall back into your lap. He turned, his heart thumping loudly in his head as he saw you looking up at him from where you sat. He quickly muttered that he had to go, there was shit he had to take care of before he disappeared. He didn’t give you the chance to stop him before he had his ear against the door, holding a finger up to you to keep you silent while he listened for anybody in the corridor who could be looking for him. 

Before he left, Saeran told you that he hopes that you and Ray will be happy, before promptly opening the door. He hadn’t verbally told you, but as he walked by, he dropped a small parcel of the food on the table with a final, singular remark: ‘eat something.’

[lokilickedme]

The Way

I’m writing horror again.  I guess it’s that time, you know, that time that has nothing to do with Halloween or the seasons or whatever, that time when it just hits me for some reason.  And just like I always do, I’ll say I don’t know why.

Even though I know why, and you know I know why.

Because the truth is always so much weirder and worse and more disquieting than any excuse I could make up for it, and sometimes I just feel the need.

Today I felt the need, and I couldn’t make it go away.

And so I sat down, and words I didn’t want to write were written.

.

8592 words I would rate this Mature 18+ if it was a fic, strictly because of the subject matter.

Warnings: Death, mostly.  Religious trauma, brief descriptions of abuse, mentions of mental illness, domestic violence, grief, familial dysfunction, religious abuse, emotional abuse, medical conditions, brief mentions of drug use/abuse, mild gore in reference to corpse decomposition, psychological unease and mild terror, child abuse (mental/emotional/psychological), brief allusion to physical child abuse, cult references, loss of faith, attempted murder, possible actual murder.

A Note:  I love you guys, you’re always so quick and willing to be helpful and offer advice and suggestions and such, and I adore that about you.  But on this piece of work I ask that nobody offer any theories about what happened to my brother - medical, criminal, or otherwise - and please no suggestions on things we could do to pursue investigation, that ship has long sailed.  It’s been 23 years and he’s a cold case.  We spent years trying to sort it out but in the end it’s just something that happened, and we moved on because we had to.  There are a lot of open ends, a lot of question marks, a lot of suspicious details that never connected to anything - and we tried, we truly did.  If anyone out there knows the truth, they’ve never shown themselves to us.  We do have our theories, but my brother was a secretive person living a life none of us knew about, and the people he knew weren’t people we knew.  Everyone involved is either dead or moved on or got away with whatever it was they did, and there are only three of us who still care.  It’s over.

Until today, I’ve never put these events into words.

It was something I needed to do, finally.

This is PART ONE.  There may not be a part two, unless doing this ends up making me feel better.

Please feel free to comment if you wish.  As you can see, pretty much nothing triggers me.  I just ask that you please refrain from the type of comments noted above.

And thank you.

----------

This is, regrettably, a true story.  Nothing has been changed but the names, because the dead don’t like being talked about, and James was just enough of a shit to haunt me for it.

----------

----------

They made up their minds And they started packing They left before the sun came up that day An exit to eternal summer slacking But where were they going without ever knowing the way

They drank up the wine And they got to talking They now had more important things to say And when the car broke down They started walking Where were they going without ever knowing the way

Anyone can see the road that they walk on is paved in gold And it's always summer They'll never get cold They'll never get hungry They'll never get old and gray You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere They won't make it home But they really don't care They wanted the highway They're happier there today, today

Their children woke up And they couldn't find them They left before the sun came up that day They just drove off and left it all behind them But where were they going without ever knowing the way?

Anyone can see the road that they walk on is paved in gold And it's always summer They'll never get cold They'll never get hungry They'll never get old and gray You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere They won't make it home But they really don't care They wanted the highway They're happier there today, today

You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere They won't make it home But they really don't care They wanted the highway They're happier there today, today

- The Way, Fastball, 1998

.

That was the year James died in his sleep.

Or that’s what they say, anyway.  Asthma, the likely cause based on his medical history, our first and least disturbing assumption.  Undetermined, the official determination based on the hastily scraped-together autopsy, the best that could be done under the circumstances.  We tell people he had breathing problems, and they nod their heads and agree because they knew he did, and now he’s been gone so long that nobody asks.  Most of the people who ever met him have long moved on or disappeared or died themselves, or just remember him as the enigmatic middle son from the Keithley family that nobody really knew very well.  You know, the odd one, the one that showed up at meetings maybe once a year and smiled nervously but didn’t really talk to anyone and always seemed anxious to leave?  The one who died under mysterious circumstances?  That one.

He left the way he always came in.  Quietly, unexpected, without anyone being aware of either his entrance or his exit.

But me and mom know some things, and she’s not talking.  She probably never will.

So maybe it’s time I did.

December 1998.  I’d gotten married two years previous and moved back to the family land with my new husband.  He hated it there, but we had an affordable place to live.  It wasn’t bad.  He’d tell you otherwise.  The land never sat right with him, but I’d lived there too many years to see it.  I’d been fifteen when my father uprooted his large family from the city and hauled us out to the great back door to nowhere, and even though I’d left several times to wander elsewhere, I always came back.

I didn’t realize why at the time, at any of the multiple times.  But now I know.  That place gets you, and it holds you, and unless you’re goddamned devoted to staying gone you will always be pulled back.  It took me till I was 49 to funnel the necessary amount of devotion away from the religious dedication I’d had jackbooted into me and turn it toward getting out, but against a great number of overwhelming odds I finally did it.

But this isn’t about that, not yet anyway.  This is about my brother James, and how he went to sleep one night and found his own way out.

----------

It was snowing, had been for days, a bit unusual but not unheard of.  The part of the state we lived in was notorious for extended ice storms and we knew a bad one was coming, but until it hit we played in the snow like it was a gift and we were deprived children who knew it was all going to be taken away soon.  My brothers and I were adults but you wouldn’t know it, watching us sneak around in the woods staging elaborate commando attacks on each other.  James was the best of us, a stealth king who could stand in the middle of a room for an hour without a single soul seeing him.  Perception bias, he said.  Your brain ignores me because I obviously don’t belong, like those puzzles where you circle what’s wrong but it takes you forever to find them.

He crept around in the forest scaring the shit out of people, dropping his long tall self out of trees, appearing from nowhere to administer a well aimed snowball to the face of whoever happened to cross his path and then disappearing just as quickly.  We called him a wraith and it wasn’t a good natured jibe.  We meant it.  He made people nervous.  He was the stealthy kind of quiet you associate with danger, and he knew how to do things an average person doesn’t ever have any need to know.  It was a quiet cool that we admired him for, because none of the rest of us had it.

The religion we were raised in kept a tight lid on us, but me and James, we never really let it get into our bones.  We were the smart ones, in retrospect.  I went through the motions by force of habit and a sense of self preservation, doing what was expected and demanded of me, following the rules and making myself a perfect example of a young member of the church so I wouldn’t bring shame on the congregation and my family.  But mostly the congregation.  It was always more important than anything else.  And I had behaving down to an art form, but mostly when people were looking.  Usually also when they weren’t.

But sometimes, not quite.

And then I prayed for forgiveness about it later because God was supposed to forgive you if you asked him to, right?  The tenet of willful sin being unforgivable never took root with me even though that was what the church conditioned into us through fear and constant repetition.  They said it from the stage two nights a week and again on Sunday to hammer it home.  Two nights a week and again on Sunday my head silently disagreed.  God’s not like that.  And then I did the praying for forgiveness thing even though I knew I was right, because I was disagreeing with the church, and the church was God’s channel here on Earth, wasn’t it?  I committed a mortal sin at least three times a week on that subject alone, and though the dread of divine punishment was hardwired into me, I never could reconcile the concept of a loving and forgiving God destroying me simply for knowing better.

I’m not sure the comprehension of an overwatching deity ever actually established itself in James’ brain.  A moral code, yes.  But isn’t that what God is, really?  Maybe he understood more about God and forgiveness than the rest of us.  But he was considered an unapproved fringe member of the church because he couldn’t suffer people and noise and being looked at and he refused to preach, and he was soft-shunned as a result.  Because if you weren’t all in to the point of being willing to die at any moment for your faith, you were as good as faithless.

And faithless meant condemned.  And the congregation couldn’t be bothered with condemned people, regardless of their reasons for not having both feet in the water.  The first and only option on their list was to put the person out and let them find their own way back once they realized they had nobody left in the world who cared about them.

James escaped that somehow.  He was supposed to be shunned whole scale, but he wasn’t trying to convince anyone to leave the faith and he presented no threat to anyone’s strength of belief, and so far as anyone knew he’d committed no grave sins other than disinterest.  So the rule that dictated we cast him out was bent enough to allow him to remain living on the family land, though at one point during a fit of overzealous righteousness my mother had tried to have a family meeting to vote on whether or not we were going to let him stay.  I refused to vote and when I walked out of the house the meeting fell apart.

I’ve never forgiven her for that.  Her son’s life being put to a vote with her presiding over the proceedings, vengeful and unfeeling and devoid of compassion on behalf of God himself.  It takes my breath away, the anger, still to this day.  The only thing I ever truly learned from my mother about parenting was a long and intensely detailed list of what not to do to my own children, and I suppose I should be grateful for that.  It’s a bitter thank-you to have to give, but it’s something.

We knew James as much as he would allow us to, and not an inch further.  Which meant the extent of our knowledge of him pretty much stretched to include the singular fact that he was different.  What that meant, I still don’t really know - but it was there from the day he was born, that slight off-ness, the oddly off center calibration that you can’t really see so much as sense in a person.  I know now he was likely on the autism spectrum and he walked through life seeing and reacting to everything differently than most of us, but that wasn’t a thing back then.  You were just weird, or you weren’t.  And I’m not convinced that was a bad thing for him, strictly speaking.  But in the confines of our religion and our family’s devout and sometimes violent dedication to it, it took its toll almost daily.

He stood out, and he was very much a person who didn’t want to.  He wanted to fade into the background, to not be seen, to not be known.  And our religion didn’t tolerate that kind of nonsense, because we were commanded to be bold bearers of The Word Of God, and no exceptions were made.

None.

I’m going to stop calling it a religion now.  I beg your indulgence as I shift to calling it what it is, because calling it a religion is an insult to actual religions that don’t destroy peoples’ lives with callous indifference and murderous glee.

We were raised in a doomsday death cult.  There’s no other name that fits.

And we were trapped in it and its ugly cycle of neverending mental and emotional manipulation and abuse until we were adults, and some of us are still bound to it.  My oldest brother worked his way up to the upper levels of oversight in the local congregation and was solidly entrenched in it until his death, which is a story for later.  My youngest brother, the last remaining living blood sibling I have, is still deeply in it to this day and will likely never leave it.

I took the hard way out, three years ago, by walking away.

James, though.  He took the easy way.  He simply closed his eyes, and he was free.

----------

December 22, 1998.  Three days before Christmas, though that meant nothing to us.  The cult told us Christmas was a filthy demonic pagan ritual that was condemned by God, so to us the season was just a nice chilly time of year with lots of time off from work.  We’d had an unusual amount of snow, the most we’d had in years.  The roads were impassable and everyone was home except my husband, who worked close enough that his boss at the glass shop came and picked him up that morning with chains on his tires.  Lots of windshields had shattered from the sudden violent cold that had struck the previous night and Scott had the only glass shop for sixty miles.

I think it must have been around noon, and likely my mother had sent my dad up the hill to see if James wanted to come down for the lunch she was making.  He and his wife had split up against the strict rules of the church after a few years of suffering through an ill advised marriage, an important detail to this story that will come into the tale later, and he was alone up there at the top of the hill a lot.  Sometimes he forgot to eat, or he got so busy that he just didn’t bother, so our mother always made something for him because even though he was in his 20′s he was still a kid who needed looking after and her zealous fervor against him had died down with time.  I think he let her believe he was helpless because it worked in his favor and there was always lunch waiting for him in her kitchen as a result.

He was different, he wasn’t dumb.

We all lived on the hill back then with the exception of our youngest brother.  He’d moved to the city with his new wife not long prior.  The locals jokingly called the place a commune, and I guess they weren’t completely wrong.  Thirty-eight acres of wooded land far beyond the city limits that we’d painstakingly spent years carving a livable space into, with five houses, all built from the ground up and inhabited by an extended family of well known culties from a well known cult.  It’s almost comical, looking back on it, knowing now how they kept an eye on us for years to make sure we weren’t doing anything weird up there.

They should have run us off with pitchforks and burning stakes at the very beginning.

Things might have ended differently for us if they had.

----------

My grandparents lived at one end of the property, an old couple as simple and solid as salted soup, devoutly religious and devoted to the cult and very much cut from the can survive anything and probably will cloth like so many old country folks of their generation.  They were waiting out the end of days up there in their little wooden house, expecting the final hour of this old system to come long before their own demise.  I liked my grandmother, she had a sweet smile and fell asleep every time granddad started talking about the Bible and she paid me five dollars every Wednesday to drive her into town to get groceries, and years later, when she was dying, she told me she’d had a dream where she met my unborn son.  I was four months pregnant and didn’t know yet that I was having a boy.  She died before he was born, but to this day, fifteen years later, he tells me he’s sure he met her, he just can’t remember when.

I was scared of my grandfather.  Not terrified, but there was nothing grandfatherly to him and I always suspected he never actually liked kids much.  He’d once told us a story about the great Fort Worth flood that wiped out most of the city when my mom was a baby, and how he had told my grandmother to let go of my 2-year-old mother while he was struggling to get them across a rushing flooded creek in water up to their shoulders.  My grandmother couldn’t swim.  We could make another Ruthie, he said.  But I couldn’t get another ‘Nita.

He said it proudly, like he was to be admired for his choice.  I was young when he told that story, but it settled into me that this was evil.

Even when he was old as dirt and dying of a brain tumor in hospice care, he made me uneasy.  I was never close to him.  But for some reason, in his final days, he forgot who everyone was except me.  I had been living in another state for years and he hadn’t seen me since before the tumor started taking his life.  But when I walked into the room he turned his head and looked at me, and he mouthed my name.

He couldn’t speak.  I don’t know what he was trying to say, struggling with words that nobody could hear.  And I felt bad.  I didn’t want to be the last person he recognized.  My cousins adored him and had spent the last few years constantly at his side, and they were angry, maybe justifiably, that I was the one he reached for.

I didn’t want that at all.

I don’t believe he was a bad man, but he never spoke of anything except the cult’s interpretation of the Bible, and it was as tiresome as it was terrifying.  Granddads are supposed to be fun.  Ours quoted doctrine at us in a deep loud commanding voice that you couldn’t interrupt and you couldn’t tune out, and once he got going you had to just settle in and wait for him to run out of zealous steam.  And then he would suddenly stop and command grandmother to turn on a John Wayne movie and bring him some ice cream, and it was over until the next time.

I know my mother resented him.  She knew grandmother was the one that had refused to let her go, the one that had held onto her even though she almost drowned by the simple act of holding on.  She knew her father had been willing to let her wash away and drown.  That he thought she was interchangeable with whatever baby they would have next.  How she could spend her entire life with that knowledge and not be deeply affected by it was something that never made sense to me, but now, when she’s in her 70′s and I’m in my 50′s, I finally understand.  It affected her.  She’ll just be damned if she’ll let anyone see it.  And she had stood there in that hospice room watching him mouth my name with resentment burning in her eyes, though she would have rather died than let anyone know what it was for.  He’d forgotten her weeks ago.

The house in the center of the hill was mom and dad.  The homestead.  The house we’d all lived in together, that we’d built with our own hands, the first thing that marked that wild overgrown hill as a place where people actually lived.  A long path through the woods connected it to the grandparents’ house, and it was the epicenter of everything in our lives.  James and I had lived in the upstairs rooms of that house until we both moved out and married our respective mates years later, a reprehensible act on our part that was never okay with my mother and that she never forgave either of us for.  She’d wanted us all to stay.  We can all live here together until the New System comes, she always said.  That’s how the Bible says it’s supposed to be.  We can all keep each other safe and on the right path until the end comes, and then we’ll all be here together forever.

A decade later when I sat up on the hill watching that house burn to the ground, there was as much relief as grief billowing into the sky with the black smoke.  It was the end of an era, and it was far beyond time for it.

Nobody saw it but me.  James was dead, had been for years.  Robbie was dead now too.  Dad was gone, so was granddad.  Me and my youngest brother David were the last two left of the kids, but he had moved to a neighboring city when he got married and he has never seen things the way I see them.  We were of different generations, we weren’t raised the same way, and he’d never experienced the abuse I lived with for the first half of my life.  And he had dedicated his own life to the cult with all the honesty and lack of guile that I didn’t have when I’d made my own dedication vows at the too-young age of sixteen.

It was the end of an era, but apparently only for me.

James’ house was up the hill, past a clearing where my dad used to keep old cars that he cannibalized for parts.  Our oldest brother Robbie, long married with kids of his own, lived at the bottom on the farthest corner of the land.  And my house was on the slope to the west, built on the spot where we’d cleared off an old half-fallen homestead from the late 1800′s, dutifully paying no mind to the fact that a grave was nestled into the slope, right where the yellow daffodils grew.  The cult told us superstition was tied up with the demons and false religion, so we didn’t have the built-in human instinct that tells most people to stay the hell away from certain things.

We just pretended it wasn’t there, and put no importance on it.  It was just an old grave.  The soil was good and the garden I planted next to it did well, though those strange daffodils always wound themselves through everything I put in the ground.  My husband said something wasn’t right about it, but I didn’t pay any attention to him.  He hadn’t been raised as devout as me.

My dad knocked on my door around lunchtime and I opened it.  He backed up, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, the fancy leather coat the dealership had awarded him when he was designated a five-star Chrysler technician and given the state’s first and only license to work on the new Vipers that had recently rolled off the prototype line.  It was a cool jacket.  Made him look like the old pictures my other grandmother had shown me of him from the early 1960′s, when he was young and very much a product of a fancier era.  He’d never stopped greasing his hair back and was still so thin that he and I wore the same size jeans.

I’ve never understood the look on his face when I opened the door.  To this day I can’t sort it.  It wasn’t a blankness like so many people who’ve seen death wear without awareness.  It wasn’t grief.  It wasn’t even shock.

He was sorry.

Those were the first words out of his mouth.

I’m sorry.

I stood there, not knowing what he was sorry for.  It was cold.  I couldn’t push the screen door open very far because of the snow blocking it.  And my father was standing at the bottom of the steps James had helped my husband build, his hands shoved down far into his pockets like a penitent child about to get in trouble, telling me he was sorry.

James is dead, he finally said.  He’s in his house.  I went up there and he’s dead.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I do now - just now, this very moment in fact, I know that I was the first person he told.  He came straight from James’ house to mine and told me my brother was dead.

I don’t know what I said back to him, I just remember sitting down on the top step and feeling the cold bite of the snow through my pajama pants.  There’s a vague recollection of putting my face in my hands, and the embarrassing knowledge that I did that simply because I didn’t know what else to do.  And dad just stood there, nervously stepping from foot to foot in the snow, because he didn’t know what else to do either.

I think I asked How at some point.  He said he didn’t know.  He had something in his pocket but to this day I don’t know what it was.

I don’t know if it was important.  Something tells me it was.  Or maybe it was just the eternally present handkerchief he always kept on him.

I’m sorry, he said again.  He seemed to feel like it was his fault somehow.  I’m sorry.

What do we do?  I asked him.  I’ve never felt more blank.  What are we supposed to do?

I don’t remember what he said, other than he was going to get my older brother.  I remember thinking that was a good idea.  Robbie would know what to do.  He always did.  Brash and blustery and bigmouthed, he got things done while other people stood around debating how to do them.  He would get on it, whatever needed doing.  He would figure it out.

I went back in the house and dad walked away, headed down the path through the woods that connected my house to Robbie’s, hands still shoved deep in his pockets, the big retro vintage Chrysler emblem on the back of his jacket the last thing I saw before I pulled the screen door shut.  I stared down for a minute at the mound of snow it had scooped into my livingroom, still with no clue what I was supposed to do.

No clue at all.

I kicked the snow back outside and shut the door.

----------

It’s an odd thing, watching the coroner’s van drive away with someone you know inside it.  Someone you saw just yesterday.  Someone who was alive.  Someone who should still be alive but isn’t, somehow.  And since there’s really no way to earn a ride in a coroner’s van without dying, there’s an awful unsettling sensation to it that you can’t get away from.  The last time I saw James he was laughing that devious little laugh of his, his eyes red and bloodshot from the ever present asthma he’d suffered with his entire life.  I don’t count the sight of the coroner’s van leaving the hill via our long steep driveway with his cold corpse tucked into a black zippered bag, because I didn’t see him.  I never saw him.  I didn’t see him dead in his house and I didn’t see them carry him out, I didn’t see them put him in the van.  I didn’t see him later, when it was all over with.  And if I try hard enough I can imagine that van empty, with that long black bag tossed crumpled in the back without a body in it, and James somewhere else living his life however the hell he pleases.

I hold onto that.  Some days it helps.  And some days I think I see him, walking by the side of the road or getting out of a car in the post office parking lot, and it makes me happy thinking he escaped.  I see him in every hitchhiker, in every wandering traveler making his way down the interstate, in every tall thin man I glimpse from the corner of my eye as I go about my business in town.

He’s out there.

I hope he’s happy.

The ice storm hit the next day.

----------

For the next two weeks we were stuck on our hill.  Power out, no electricity, no heat, no lights, roads iced over and impassable.  We all piled up in mom and dad’s house, quietly grieving James, trying to stay warm.  Most of the state lost power for days, including the city 150 miles away where his body had been taken to the state coroner’s office.  There was no apparent cause of death, so the state ordered an autopsy.

His body had just been placed into cold storage to wait its turn when the power grid went down.  And then, by some unholy stroke of nightmarish luck, the facility’s generators failed.

Nobody could make it in to work because of the ice.  By the time someone finally got into the morgue the cold storage had been down for four days.

Six bodies melted, including James.

----------

No viable autopsy could be done, though they tried their best I suppose.  The end report was obtained two months later.  It was mostly inconclusive due to the long delay and resultant decomposition of tissue.  There was apparent scarring on James’ heart, but it was old scarring and had nothing to do with his death.  His lungs were scarred as well, but that was no surprise, he’d had severe asthma his entire life.  There was no determinable cause of death, no inflicted trauma, no presence of illicit drugs as far as they could tell from the limited toxicology report they managed with what they had to work with.

No reason.

He’d simply died.

It seemed fitting, to me at least, that the end of him be enshrouded in an unsolvable mystery.  He was a secretive person, intensely private.  He would have loved knowing nobody had a clue what happened to him.

And so we drew our own conclusion as a family.  He’d had an asthma attack in his sleep.  There had been an inhaler next to his bed, but it was new and still in the box.  He simply hadn’t woken up to use it.  Dad didn’t participate in the drawing of this conclusion, his input kept stoically to himself, like he knew something the rest of us didn’t.

We pretended not to see it.

He and mom braved the last of the ice a few days later to make the 150 mile drive to see James one last time.

They came back different.

You couldn’t tell it was him, my mother said.  He was melted, literally.  It was like one of those science fiction movies where they melt you with a laser beam and you turn to goo.

Dad had nothing to say.  He went to bed and stayed there until the next day.

You can go see him, mom told me.  I’ll go with you if you want to go.  But I don’t recommend it.

I decided not to go.

And so I never saw my brother dead.  I never saw any proof that he was gone.  He just wasn’t there anymore.  There was no funeral, he was cremated and his ashes were sent home weeks later, and I went on with my life with the image in my head of James, alive, somewhere else.

----------

Dad was different from that day on.  He’d always been stoic, terse, strict.  My childhood had been spent in fear of him, an eternal dread of making him mad and feeling his temper erupt keeping me from showing any hint of a personality during my formative years.  The cult had forced him to abide by the violent tenet of Spare the rod, spoil the child and there was never any risk of me being spoiled.

James being gone flipped a switch in him.  He was nicer suddenly.  Mellow.  Kind.  After the trauma wore off his humor discovered itself and he was funny.  The dour angry demeanor fell off and revealed a man that I was sad never to have known before.  He and I became friends.  I could sense in his new attitude toward me that he regretted how he’d raised me and respected the way I’d always stood up and been my own person despite it.  But my mother was falling off the deep end and for all the newfound easygoingness of my father, she counterbalanced it with an extremism born of the religious fervor of a mother determined to gain enough favor with God to see her dead child again.  And she was going to make sure the rest of us did too.

We all had to get good and straight on the path, get completely right and stay that way, or we’d never see James again.  He’d be in the New World and we wouldn’t, and how would she explain that to him?  She and I worked together in a law office at the time and as she became more unhinged and unpleasant, I reacted by becoming more outgoing and accomplished.  Our boss changed my work designation from receptionist to Executive Assistant and started teaching me how to do everything from filing papers at the courthouse to photographing accident scenes.  I no longer answered to my mother, the office manager.  I answered directly to the boss.

That didn’t go over well.  She was a control freak with heavy untreated trauma, and the one person in the world she felt the most obsessive need to control was suddenly no longer under her thumb in a workspace where she considered herself the supreme authority.  She countermanded every order the boss gave me and tried to load me up with general office chores that left me no time to do the important assignments he’d given me.  I had no choice but to tell her she wasn’t my superior anymore.

She chose that day to have her nervous breakdown over James, jumping out of my car at a red light on the way home and storming angrily through a shopping mall with me trailing frantically along behind her, yelling for security to arrest me while I tried to get her to calm down.  I ended up telling her she wasn’t the only person who lost James but that none of the rest of us were allowed to experience our own grief because we were too busy catering to hers.

She sat down on a bench outside the sporting goods store and glared at me with a cold hatred I’ve seen on very few other faces, ever.

I knew it would be you, she hissed at me.

That moment changed our relationship forever.  It changed me forever.  That was the day I decided my life was my own, that she not only didn’t have authority over me at work, she didn’t have authority over me anywhere else either.  She could no longer dictate my actions, my behavior, my thoughts and feelings.

For this she disowned me.  It was the first of several disownings over the next few years.  I got used to it.  We went to work the next day like nothing had happened, and I didn’t do a single thing on the task list she slapped down on my desk.  It was a metaphor for the rest of my life, but I didn’t know it yet.

My husband and I moved out of state a couple of months later, away from that hill, away from her increasingly controlling paranoia and bitterness, the first of many small steps toward freedom.

As we were driving away with our trailer full of personal belongings behind us, he said one thing that I tried to argue against, but that somewhere deep inside I knew was probably right.

That land is cursed, he said.

----------

A few weeks before we moved my youngest brother came to town and we went into James’ house together.  It was exactly like it had been the day my dad found him.  The only thing that stood out as different was the bare mattress on the bed - the men from the coroner had wrapped him up in the sheet he’d been laying on and took it with them, leaving just the naked springform mattress James had bought for Jessica right before her final breakdown and their subsequent separation.

It took me a while to go in the bedroom, but I knew from the moment I walked into the house that I was going to end up there.  I needed to see it, the place where James had closed his eyes and left us.

There was a small puddle of dried blood near the foot of the bed, brown and stained into the fabric.  James always slept backwards, with his head at the wrong end.  The blood had come from his nose.

I touched it.  I don’t know why.  It was dry.

He was gone.

----------

David and I laughed a lot that day.  James had been funny in a way that was distinctly him, quiet and of few words, but those words had always counted.  And as we sorted through his things and talked about him and moved some of his stuff into boxes to be stored away, I felt as much awed respect as befuddlement at what was around me.  He’d never been a conformist, which I knew was why the cult had never gotten a firm grasp on him.  He was unknowable and therefore unbindable.  But his house was proof that he didn’t conform to any human expectations either, and nothing in it made sense unless you’d spent time around him.

There was an engine in the bathtub.  I’m not sure what it went to.  Another engine, in the beginning stages of disassemblage, rested on a blue tarp in the center of the livingroom floor, obviously the last project he’d been working on.  There wasn’t much furniture - his wife had taken most of it when she left and it would have never entered his mind to replace any of it.  Jessica’s cookware was in the kitchen cabinets, unused, some of it still in the original boxes, some not even fully unwrapped from their wedding shower years before.  Jessica didn’t cook, she microwaved.  David asked me if I thought it would be okay for him to take a glass Pyrex measuring cup because he’d broken his.  I told him to take it.  It had never been used.

I didn’t want anything, but knew I needed to take something.  One of my husband’s solo CDs was sitting on the entertainment center and the cover, the cover I’d designed, caught my eye and brought me to the CD player to pop the tray open.

Inside was a CD single of The Way.

It was the only thing I took.

----------

My husband told me some time later that my dad and older brother had altered the scene before the police arrived.  After the phonecall from me his boss had rushed him home and he’d gone up to James’ house without my knowledge.  He’d thought it strange that he’d had to step around at least a dozen empty compressed air cans scattered haphazardly around the place as he entered, like they’d been used and tossed aside one after another.  There had been several more on the floor around the bed.  My father had told him to go back down and see how mom and I were doing, and when he returned to James’ house after the coroner’s departure, the cans were gone.  Other than that he said things seemed different, but he couldn’t say quite how.  Just not the same.

He told me my dad didn’t call the police until after he and Robbie had been in there at least an hour, alone with the body.

It’s not something we’ve talked about often, because there’s no satisfactory explanation for it that either of us can come up with.  My mother says they probably didn’t want the police to assume the cans meant he was huffing compression fluid and accidentally killed himself, because Look at the shame and reproach that would bring on the congregation if anyone thought such a thing!  We all knew he used the compressed air to clear the valves on the engines he was working on, all mechanics do, it’s common.  Wouldn’t the police have accepted that explanation?  Dad was the only one that spoke to them.  They wrote down whatever he said, and then they left, and then the coroner came and took James away and that was that.  My father, the most upright straight-and-narrow devoutly dedicated man I’ve ever known in my life, misled the police for a reason that he took with him to his own grave.

The only other person in the world who knew the truth about it took it to his grave too.

At the same time.

In the same car.

Four years later, on October 18, 2002.

----------

The big garbage bag of empty air cans and whatever else that was removed from James’ house that morning had been stashed in my dad’s garage and stayed there until a few weeks after he and Robbie’s joint funeral, when my mother asked my husband’s old boss to come and dispose of it.  Scott was a man who knew people who could do things.

The evidence, whatever it was evidence of, vanished.

----------

The mystery around James never dissolved and eventually no one talked about it anymore, I guess because there was no way we could ever truly find out what happened without him here to tell us.  There were a lot of details that we could never find a way to weave together into anything that made sense and a lot of it was probably inconsequential anyway.  There was a girlfriend that he’d tried to keep hidden from us, a woman that was quite a bit older than him who wasn’t a member of the cult and therefore needed to be kept a secret.  In the end she had convinced him to stop hiding their relationship and he’d bought her a ring.  We met her all of twice before he died, and within days of his passing she left town with her brother and never came back, taking whatever she might have known with her.

James’ ex Jessica had sneaked onto the hill and broken into his house to put a dead raccoon in his kitchen sink a few days prior to his death.  We were shocked when he told us she trespassed on the land often without anyone knowing, and my mother made my father fix the electric gate down at the road so that it wouldn’t open without one of three clickers in the possession of herself, my father, and me.  James would have to come to her house and get hers any time he needed to leave the hill, an arrangement he agreed to because Jessica stole things from his house all the time, she would absolutely take a gate opener if she saw it.

He told us the gate wouldn’t keep her out though, and that she didn’t come in that way anyway.  The only way to protect ourselves from her was to lock her up and he doubted even that would do it.

He died less than a week later, and twenty three years later we still don’t know how or why.

----------

We never felt safe on the hill again.  Jessica was deranged in the worst possible way, we’d known it for a while, and James was her obsession.  She’d threatened to kill him multiple times and had tried twice.  We hadn’t known this, because James, big strong stoic Clint Eastwood type that he was, wasn’t about to tell anyone he was violently abused for years by a skinny little woman that everyone believed was not much more than a meek dormouse with shyness issues and a case of painful awkwardness.  But we knew she was evil.  We just didn’t have any proof.

The first thing my mother said after the initial emotional breakdown of finding her son dead was Jessica did this, I don’t know how but I know she did it.

I believe she was probably right.  But if Jessica was anything she was wily and devious with a strong survival instinct and an uncanny ability to lie convincingly and draw sympathy onto herself.  She’d convinced us for years that she was the perfect combination of sweetly harmless and endearingly clueless, but that only lasted until the day she called 911 screaming that James was beating her and then threw herself face first into a tree in their front yard and sat, calmly singing and coloring in a coloring book on the porch with blood running down her forehead, waiting for the police to arrive.  The act she put on when they got there was one for the Academy, but the officers didn’t buy it.

James calmly rolled up his sleeves and showed them his scars where she’d burned him and slashed him with a kitchen knife.  He pulled up his shirt and pointed out the marks she’d left on him with her teeth and nails.  He hooked a finger into his mouth and showed them the empty hole where she’d knocked one of his teeth out with a baseball bat.  One of the officers asked him why he hadn’t killed her and buried her somewhere on the land already.

She left in the back of the squad car, and my mother took James to the courthouse to get divorce papers started two days later.

Jessica came to his memorial service when we finally had it, several weeks after his death.  She wasn’t invited but we couldn’t keep her from coming.  She wore black like a widow and created a dramatic disruption complete with loud wailing and declarations of undying love, and afterward she stood to one side of the room, smirking at us with the kind of icy malice that you only see on the dangerously deranged, and then usually only in the movies.  Several people commented in hushed voices, asking why she’d been allowed to come.  At one point she started wailing They killed him!!, but everyone with the exception of her mother ignored her.

Her mother, who was still in our congregation, flitted around the room chatting with everyone, sobbing her heart out like it was her own son we’d just memorialized.  She was an ER nurse and had been famously fired from her job at the hospital for taking locked-cabinet medications home by the purse load.  She claimed she put them in her pocket to use on her shift and forgot to return them to the cabinet before leaving.

Jessica had been staying with her for a while.

----------

We fed the crowd at mom’s later that afternoon with my husband and his boss guarding the gate, making sure she didn’t try to come into my mother’s house.  The police were called preemptively, and because this was a town of 300 with not much of anything else to do, a squad car was dispatched and stationed near the inlet to the main drive.

Jessica showed up not much later, like we knew she would.  She drove past the police and parked a few yards down from them in plain sight, just sitting there by the side of the road, far enough away from our property that we couldn’t legally do anything about it.  The officers got out and talked to her, warned her not to cause us any problems, and she fed them a woeful tale about being banned from her beloved husband’s memorial service and denied the right to say goodbye to him.

The officers knew there was no body at that service to say goodbye to.  They also knew her.

My husband came up the hill and told us she was down at the road and that Scott was blocking the driveway with his truck to keep her out.  I told my mother it was time to file a restraining order against her.  She was living in fear and Jessica was known to be trespassing on our property frequently.  No, she told me with tears in her eyes but not a sign of distress on her face.  It was a look I knew, because my mother rarely showed emotion unless she was angry and the rest of the time it was this cold detachment.  That would bring reproach on the congregation because everyone knows what we are.  I can’t do that.  I won’t let her win that way.  I won’t let her cause us to bring shame on God’s name.

God’s name.  I took it in vain that day.

More than once.

I was leaving in a few weeks, moving a thousand miles away.  My husband and I weren’t going to be there to help her keep an eye out, and thirty eight acres of heavily wooded land is impossible to protect and easy to sneak onto from a hundred different directions, James had shown us proof of that.

God will protect us as long as we do the right thing and leave it to him, she said.  He knows what she is.

I think it was just a coincidence that nothing terrible happened in the following weeks, because my faith was getting tenuous and a lot of prayers were going unanswered.  But Jessica quietly disappeared back to her own world after a couple of infuriating weeks of putting herself in our paths every chance she got, and not long after that my husband and I moved away, and as we left the driveway for what we thought would be the last time he sighed and shook his head with the exasperation of a man about to say I told you so.

“That land is cursed,” he said.

I tried to disagree, though I don’t know why.

----------

Less than a mile up the road we passed a man walking.  He was tall and thin and covered in the dust of a long journey with a ratty backpack strapped to his back, and as we passed him I caught his reflection in the side mirror.

It was James, I knew it in my heart every bit as strongly as I knew it couldn’t be.

He was walking away from the hill, toward the west.  The way we were going.  And I swear on whatever holy relic you wish to place under my hand that he raised his head and met eyes with me in the mirror, and he smiled.

.

Anyone can see the road that they walk on is paved in gold And it's always summer They'll never get cold They'll never get hungry They'll never get old and gray You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere They won't make it home But they really don't care They wanted the highway They're happier there today

.

[shitpissboi]

Alone Together

Summary- The holidays are always hell, and sometimes you just need to be alone together with your boyfriends and your dumbass friends. 

Word Count- 3476

Pairing- Katuski Bakugou x Reader x Hitoshi Shinsou 

Warnings- Swearing, detailed use of marijuana, stalker behavior (kinda, just given as a backstory at the very beginning), aged up characters.

 A/N- Hello everybody! This is actually the first fic that i’ve written in well over a year, so forgive me if my writing is still a little rusty! I hope you like this fic, and thank you for taking the time to read it! :) (Edit: Honeslty thank you so much to everyone that’s interacted with this post! I did not expect it too get so many notes, so thank you all!🥺🖤)

You sighed as you walked into your apartment, the stress of the past week weighing heavily on your shoulders. This entire week had been awful, not only had you been made to work over time almost every day this week at the cafe, a new regular has apparently made it his sole mission in life to make your life hell after you rejected his advances. He had asked for your number last week and you politely declined, telling him that you already had two wonderful boyfriends that made you extremely happy.  

Ever since then, he had made sure to come into the cafe every time you worked just to make your job as hard as possible. Calling you names, commenting about your appearance, making you remake every single thing he ordered several times, just to name a few things. Coupling all of that with everything else that happened this week, it would be safe to say that it was one of the worst weeks you’ve had this year. All you wanted to do now was curl up with your boyfriends, smoke, and watch trashy television. 

Said boyfriends were already on the couch as you walked into the living room, lavender locks leaning against the back of the couch, one hand using the remote to look for something to watch, the other hand running through the messy blonde hair that was sitting in his lap. Your other boyfriend was sprawled out across the couch, laying his head in sleep deprived man's lap as he was texting away on his phone, only the former noticing your quiet entrance. 

“Hey Kitten, how was work today?” The former asked, altering Katsuki to presence. He looked up from his phone the same time Hitoshi looked away from the TV, both of them noticing something was wrong right away. Katsuki immediately sat up and moved to the other end of the couch, leaving just enough room for you to sit comfortably in between the two men. You plopped onto the couch and threw your head back and just groaned, earning a small chuckle from the two.

“That bad Teddy Bear?” Katsuki asked, repositioning you so your head was laying on his lap and your legs were on Hitoshis. You just nodded your head and pushed your face into his abdomen, trying not to cry out of frustration.He ran his fingers through your hair as Hitoshi started to rub your sore feet, helping you to relax. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it.. Can we just smoke and watch shitty TV please..?” The lavender haired man smiled softly at the pout in your voice, carefully moving your legs to get up before you could even finish what you were saying. 

“Of course we can baby. We're gonna have to call Tape Face though, your shitty boyfriend smoked the rest of it last night.” The pomeranian growled out teasingly, effectively bringing a laugh out of you. 

“He’s your boyfriend too Katsuki.” You laughed, sitting up straight and stretching. You watched as Hitoshi walked back into the living room, carrying all the things you would need for the nights sesh. You smiled up at him gratefully and pulled out your phone, quickly texting Sero and asking if he was busy. Hitoshi set up the items on the table then sat down on the chaise part of the couch, pulling you to sit in between his legs. Katsuki had gotten up to get drinks and snacks for the three of you, making sure to also grab your favorite. Hitoshi started to scroll through Hulu, settling on My Strange Addiction for now, when your phone started ringing. Sero’s name flashed on your phone, answering it immediately. 

“Hey mami! What’s up beautiful?” You laughed as you felt Hitoshis grip tighten around you, Sero has been your friend since you were little kids, growing up in the same neighborhood. If he wasn’t dating Denki when he first introduced you to the Bakusquad then they would’ve thought you guys were together with how much you two flirt. 

“Hey Sero. I know it’s late notice but could you make a delivery tonight, preferably soon?” 

“Of course (Y/NN), your week not getting any better?” He asked, genuine worry seeping into his voice. 

“No, it hasn’t. And a certain SOMEONE,” You looked up at Hitoshi and nudged him with your elbow. “Smoked the rest of what we had this morning and didn’t bother to restock.” He simply rolled his eyes at you. 

“You know, if you keep being a brat, then i’m gonna have to teach you a lesson, Kitten.” Hitoshi teased. 

“Shinsou Hitoshi! You can’t say things like that on call!” You pouted, hitting him lightly in the chest. You could hear Sero, and Denki since they were always together, losing their shit over the phone. You growled and put the phone back to your ear. 

“You know I was gonna invite you guys to smoke with us but I don’t like to hang out with fucking bullies!” You growled into the phone, but started laughing as Kaminari immediately started to back track and apologize, making Sero laugh even harder.

“Just your ass over here already, and bring Kiri and Mina too if they want, we haven’t hung out as a group in forever.” You rolled your eyes as you heard Denki runoff in the background, yelling at Kiri and Mina to get their asses ready, then hearing a loud thud, making your and Hitoshi look at each other curiously. 

“We’ll be over in 20 minutes babes... God dammit Denks how many times do I have to tell you not to ru-” The phone quickly hung, making you two roll your eyes yet again, you swear that over excited dumbass is one of the only things that can make Sero lose his never ending patience. You gently threw your phone onto the coffee table and relaxed back into the purple haired man. He kissed your forehead and wrapped himself around you tightly, allowing you to fully relax into his embrace. 

-

About 25 minutes later, a knock startles you from your happy daze. Seeing as Katsuki had taken Hitoshi’s previous position, Hitoshi your position against Katsuki, and you snuggled into Katsuki’s side, you got up to answer the door. As soon as you opened the door you were trapped by a hug from Sero. You relished in the hug for a couple seconds before pulling back and letting him, followed by Denki, Mina, and Kiri. Denki and Kiri immediately made a bee line for the couch, fighting over who would get a hug from their best friend first. (Hitoshi and Katsuki respectively.) 

“Well it’s nice to see you guys too, damn.” You mumbled, laughing a little at the end as you see your boyfriends immediately get annoyed with the two loud intrusions. 

“How much you wanna bet they’ll be dead within 30 mintues?” Mina said, pulling you into a side hug.  

“I give it 20. Tops.” Sero stated as you hug Mina back, leaning into the peck she gave you on the cheek before going to wrangle Kiri in before Katsuki tried to blow him up. 

“How’re you doing babes?” Sero asked, turning toward you while he slid his backpack off. 

“I’m okay right now, a lot better than earlier. I’m so fuckin ready to get stoned though.” You chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. 

“I’m just glad that you're feeling better. I swear the next time that bastardo shows his face i’m gonna beat his ass.” He growled, cracking his knuckles to try to be intimidating. 

“Get in line Tape Face! Now get the fuck over here so we can get this started!” Katsuki yelled, making you let out a small giggle. Sero followed you into the living room where the chaos had already started. Denki was being half heartedly being consoled by Mina as he cried at Hitoshi for cuddling Katsuki and not him. Meanwhile Hitoshi was glaring daggers and Kiri, who was sitting in your previous spot, and addimently talking to Katsuki. 

You simply rolled your eyes and sat at the end of the chaise, Sero sitting in between your legs on the floor. He pulled a ziplock bag out of his backpack and grabbed the grinder off the table, promptly starting to break up the bigger nugs and put them into the grinder. You reached around him and grabbed your bong and a water bottle, pouring some water into the bong. Hitoshi had noticed you guys sit down and grabbed the bottle out of your hand when you were done, trading it with a lighter. Not even a couple minutes later Sero was handing you the grinder and you opened it, starting to pack a bowl while he got the stuff ready to roll a blunt.

You packed the bowl as full as you could and held the lighter to the bowl, starting to inhale. About 10 seconds later, when the chamber was sufficiently filled with smoke, you pulled the bowl out and inhaled again, relishing the feeling of the smoke settling into your lungs as you passed the bong and lighter to Sero. You held it for a couple more seconds before slowly letting the smoke out, feeling yourself relax with the exhale. You took the bag sitting next to Sero and continued to grind for him as he took a hit before passing it to Hitoshi. 

You watched Hitoshi take a hit as you continued to twist the grinder back and forth, smiling when he grabbed Katsuki by the collar and exhaled the smoke into his mouth. Katsuki blushed furiously, always being caught off guard when the younger man did things like that, and angrily buried his face into his neck. Hitoshi smirked as he looked down, handing the bong off to an unsuspecting Kiri. (Kiri, Denki, and Mina seriously didn’t realize you guys started until they were dead ass handed the bong-) 

Pulling your attention away from your lovers, you handed the full grinder to the man below you, seeing that he already had a blunt wrap split and emptied out. However he just handed the grinder and the tray to Hitoshi, knowing the exhausted man can roll a much prettier blunt than he can. Your head snapped up as you heard Denki start coughing and watched as Mina ripped the bong out of his hands.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to cough into the bong Denki! I swear every time you hit a bong you cough into it!” She yelled, using the sleeve of her shirt to wipe the water off the outside of the glass instrument. 

“You're still coughing into the damn bong Kaminari?!” You exasperated, staring at him bewildered. It’s been a good couple months since you had all been able to get together, and in that time he had finally decided to move in with Sero. Sero was the second biggest stoner you’ve ever met, just being beat by Hitoshi, and his favorite thing to use was a bong, you would’ve thought he had taught him by now. 

“No matter how many times I tell him he still does it, so now I make him roll a blunt or use a pipe.” Sero shrugged, moving so he could sit between his boyfriend’s legs instead. 

“It’s not my fault my lungs are so bad! Whenever I fry myself it fucks up my lungs!” He whined, leaning forward and draping himself of the latino dramatically. 

“Which is exactly why you should learn how to use the fucking bong, idiot.” Katsuki spoke up, seemingly over his flustered state for the moment. Denki just whined dramatically, causing you all to sigh in irritation. Mina rolled her eyes and took her hit before passing it off to you. You gripped it tightly and stood up on the couch, very carefully going over to Katsuki and sitting in his lap, his arms immediately wrapping around you and his chin resting on your shoulder.  

You held the bong against your lips and went to light the bowl only for Katsuki to snatch it from you, making your lean away and glare at him. He smirked at you and flicked the lighter on, bringing it to the bowl. You rolled your eyes and smirked, putting your mouth back to the bong and inhaling as he lit it for you. You inhaled for a good 15 seconds before he pulled the bowl away, allowing you to inhale the smoke into your lungs. You handed the bong off to him and watched as he leaned it, very clearly wanting you to share the hit with him. 

You smiled at the secretly needy man holding you, softly tangling your hand with the hair at the base of his neck and gently pushing him forward. You tilted your head and let the smoke flow from your parted lips into his open mouth before sealing your lips together. Your lips molded together perfectly with his, the rest of the smoke seeping through your nose before you pulled away, still smiling. 

You looked on as he opened his eyes, a soft smile settling onto his features before he exhaled fully. You closed your eyes and leaned against him, contentment washing over your body for the first time during this hell week. He chuckled and leaned back against the couch again, taking you with him. You listened to him take another hit and felt as he inhaled and exhaled, feeling the smoke blow across your head as he blew you. He handed the bong off and let his head rest on the back of the couch, slightly tightening his hold on you. 

You heard Kiri take another hit as Mina, Sero, and Denki started another fight, letting out a giggle and Katsuki and Hitoshi let out a groan at the same time. You felt Katsuki reach up but paid it no mind until Hitoshi spoke up.

“Hey! That’s no fuckin fair Katsu! You can’t just turn off your hearing aids and leave us to suffer!” Hitoshi let out, holding the frash blunt in the side of his mouth while he signed for Katsuki. Your eyes snapped open and you sat up, giving the blonde your own glare, starting to sign for him. 

“Suki! You said you were going to leave them on this time!” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest when you were done using your hands. 

“I’m not gonna listen to these shitty extras fight the whole time, so until they shut the fuck up, i’m leaving them off.” He signed, a satisfied smirk on his face. 

“You’re such a fukin asshole suki!” You grumbled, making sure to not sign to him. He just stuck his middle finger up at you and laughed. You just turned away and looked to Hitoshi, taking the blunt out of his mouth and grabbing the lighter. He tried to grab it back but stopped when he saw the mischief in your eyes, sitting back to watch you. You lit the blunt and took a long drag, passing it to Sero on the ground before climbing on Hitoshis’s lap. You gently grabbed his face and opened his mouth slightly with your thumb. 

You let the smoke fall from your lips and past his, watching as he sucked in the hit before dipping down to kiss him, raking your right hand through his hair. He pushed up into the kiss, making sure to make a show of grabbing your ass, opening his eyes slightly to lazily glance over at Katsuki, smirking to find him growling at you two. 

“Oh come on, get a room you horny lil freaky fucks.” Denki called out, making you burst everyone but Katsuki and Hitoshi burst out into laughter, the latter just deadpanning. You fell too the side to the side of Hitoshi, bumping into Katsuki’s still crossed legs, pulling yourself up when you calmed yourself down. 

“What in the fuck did you just call us?!” You asked, noting that Katsuki was signing to Hitoshi and asking what in the hell Denki just said. Said man just shrugged, leaning back against the couch. 

“A horny little freaky fuck.” He stated as if it was the most normal thing in the world, causing Mina, Kiri, and Sero to start laughing again. Katsuki had turned his hearing aids on again at this point and had heard what he said. 

“If you call my boyfriend and girlfriend that again i’m gonna kick your fucking ass dunce face.” Katsuki rumbled, grabbing his friend by the collar. You just laughed and reached over to his arm, lacing your hand with his and pulling it back to you, kissing the back of it and wrapping it around yourself. He tightened his grip on you and used his other hand to hold Hitoshi’s, growling at Denki. 

Denki yelped and jumped off the couch, lowering himself and trying to hide behind Sero, crying Katsuki not to hurt him. Sero just mumbled a “Fucking idiot”, and pulled the yellow haired man against him, leaving his arm around his waist. By this time the blunt had gotten back around to Katsuki and he took his arm off you to take a big hit, moving to lean against the arm of the couch so he could continue holding his boyfriend's hand. 

The blond passed the blunt to you when he was done, and you quickly started to inhale, smiling at the familiar burn in the back of your throat. You inhaled for a good while before passing it over to Hitoshi, laying back so your head was now in your other lovers lap. He automatically brought a hand up to your head and raked it through your hair a couple times before simply resting it on top. 

You closed your eyes as it finally started to hit you, allowing you to fully relax into your lover. You tuned out the rest of the conversations and background noise easily, focusing on the feeling of Katsuki’s hand on your head and Hitoshi moving so he was laying on your lap while still holding Katsuki’s hand. The blunt got passed around a couple more times before it was finally done, the bong getting thrown in here and there. You had ended up in a position where sitting up against the back of the couch and his legs apart as you sat between them and leaned against him and the arm of the couch. Hitoshi had crawled between the older man's legs and laid his head in your lap, practically purring as you pet his hair.

You were brought back down to reality when Hitoshi got up to grab a drink and change the TV, putting on something funny and didn’t need to be thought about too much. You sat up to, much to your blonde lovers grievance, and reached toward Hitoshi with a pout. He just let out a chuckle and grabbed your favorite drink and snack off the table, handing them to you as he got comfortable in your lap again. You happily took a sip of your drink and set it next to you, making sure to screw the cap tight, before opening your snack.

You munched it absentmindedly and leaned back against the arm of the couch, smiling up at the blonde and offering one to him. He looked around before begrudgingly opening his mouth, allowing you to place the tasty treat inside. You giggled as he grumbled and looked away, still not used to his friends seeing him act “soft”. You heard your other boyfriend let out a laugh at the explosive hero, genuinely happy that he still continues to try and open up to those close to him, especially after the last couple being rough on everyone.

The holidays brought stress to everyone, the spike in crime making the heros (Kirishima, Denki, Katsuki, and Hitoshi.) over work themselves more than usual and become even more exhausted. While you, Mina, and Sero all had to deal with the wonders of working retail and food service during this time, always seeming to get stuck with the absolute worst customers that would threaten your job and life. 

The last month has clearly taken a chunk out of everyone, and the almost always rowdy group was just thankful to finally get a restful and relaxing night. Even if the group was full of impulsive ideas and even more impulsive decisions, they never felt more safe than when in each other's company, mastering the art of being alone together when it was truly needed. You smiled as you came to this realisation, knowing that no matter what happened or what obstacles would be thrown your way, as long as you had your boyfriends and your friends, everything was going to be alright. You are going to be alright.

Masterlist

Posted 12/19/2020

[jaggedwolf]

air support, we need you (or: tscosi 2x09)

some bomb dropping, ofc, spoilers below duh

same game, top three things i had feelings ‘bout in reverse order

3. time skip time! Everyone could use a bit of a breather, even if it can’t live up to Arkady’s goat farm dreams

I thought all the planet assignments made sense, even if the completionist in me wanted it to differ more from the split that had already happened this season

ok ok the shipper in me was 50-50 but we’ll address that later

2. my man park!! is back!!! 

Showing up with an anti-aircraft missile launcher as a wedding gift. I kept joking that Park would keep up his finale trend of showing up as a surprise being cool (as cool as Park can be anw), and thought it wouldn’t happen till it did!

and him also quietly saying the defector wasn’t Shelly....Park...are you going to talk about this...

narrowly avoided extended crew singing for the third time, will he keep up this success rate?

I would take a mini-episode that just followed Park in the second half of the season (Park: I am an independent man who needs no crew)

1. Arkady attacking Krejjh because she thinks they’re an enemy, AND then McCabe pulling a gun on her to make sure she didn’t run away. Bro. Bro, that shit was a direct hit to the id. Do I even have words for how good that was

Knowing what was about to happen as soon as Arkady said “You” in that tone of voice, ugh

Krejjh saying Arkady instead of First Mate Patel in desperation, and then brushing it off with a :D after

But god, McCabe. They’ve been so compelling this season, and yeah, maybe they’re approaching everything like a nail with the hammer they’ve got that shoots bullets, but the point is, it fuckin works 

Arkady buys the threat (the promise of her crew’s safety?) more than she buys Krejjh’s reassurances 

(though reading the transcript, Krejjh specifically telling Arkady “Science Officer Liu will never forgive you”, not “forgive us”, is excellent too)

“the only authority figures yet to disappoint me” / “I’m not an authority figure” / “you don’t get to decide that” is just like. embedded in my mind. just McCabe going no, you don’t get to run verbally either.

Do you ever think about how Arkady and McCabe had like, different kinds of fucked up childhoods compared to the rest of the crew. Like obviously McCabe ending up an agent so young and the stuff about their family suggests a pretty secure background, but it feels like the IGR and Dwarnian war starting when they were 12 gives them a kind of cynicism that meshes well with Arkady’s, in a way that’s distinct from how Arkady and Violet’s morbidness mesh, or Arkady and Sana’s pragmatism

ok more character feels under the cut

don’t scandalize the grandparents

A married man! 

Impressed he made it through the season with no baddies wrecking his oxygen

Always ready to point out that Arkady is actually as much of a nerd as he is

AKA I didn’t realize it was a Mozart reference till he said so. Arkady defies the jock-nerd chart

okay who of Arkady or Krejjh is gonna tell him about MMA fight outside, or did they do a whole team debrief. For Arkady’s sake I’m hoping not the latter, though I guess everyone else would like an explanation for McCabe’s gun-pointing??

likes solving problems without guns, would prefer solving them by FLYING SPACESHIPS 

Krejjh watches McCabe’s gun strategy work on Arkady and goes “do you folks really live like this?? why???”

I do love that their first thought on what to do next is to run a bunch of supplies around, probably between human populations that are going to be a wary at seeing a dwarnian show up. (Eat it, Eejjhgreb)

Kinda wonder if their feelings about getting choked out by their buddy are in fact more complicated than “it’s chill dude, please don’t do something stupid”

The cutest vow

who needs to calm down your crewmates with annoying words when you can just point a gun at them

Seriously where is the human-dwarnian war AU where it lasts longer or happens later where McCabe is the baby sniper posted to Arkady’s unit and they squabble a bunch (and perhaps kiss? When I wrote my third ever ficlet for this fandom never did I anticipate actually being interested in that)

what % of their Mirzakhani choice was thinking “what if Arkady tries to run from the goat farm and no one’s around to point a gun at her” jk jk

Their exclusion of Park from authority figures that didn’t disappoint them is fascinating. Is it that he left hoping for Shelly when it probably wasn’t her, or that he isn’t an authority figure anymore, a combination there of?

Or worst of all, is it that when he didn’t kill Krejjh back in 1x10, that really was a disappointment, no matter how much it might’ve been mixed with relief, and you can’t undo that moment?

What if they and Park talked. But I don’t think Park is going to goat planet, so that seems unlikely.

Their apology to Sana for heightened Martineau security! And Sana reiterating the profound gratefulness bit, gah

mostly read other people’s words and yet sparked consideration of two different OT3s, her power.

you know what, everyone deciding Sana is the best person to read words makes complete sense

There was one specific moment this episode that sent my mind into a tizzy about V/A/S, and it was Arkady going FINE GO ASK THE CAPTAIN THEN at how firm Violet was that Tripathi would be the one driving her, not Arkady.

I need you to understand that my V/A/S OT3 opinions are such that my shipping feels were more set off by that than Sana and Violet telling Arkady they were proud of her for choosing goat planet or whatever, like I don’t even know what dynamic was so captured by that argument, rip at Arkady having to be systems apart from them again

Though ofc my heart was buoyed by Sana’s earnest “Kady, you do more than that”, I want these two to go do a job together again, I miss that

To shift gears, I cannot believe “Lenny” started out as Sana being absolutely furious at the people threatening her crew and has ended up a teasing in-joke between her and Park, my Sana/Park shipping feels were very content. (When does Sana learn that Park didn’t get to hear the long list of fake crimes the Rumor crew specifically confessed to Lenny? This must be fixed. Tell him about the diamonds!)

Campbell said “Park, let me show you where we’ve been sleeping.” and my brain went. Wait. This is actually a good OT3?? Park is already unnerved by Sana’s earnest captaining, he should get unnerved by Campbell’s default magnanimity, please consider this

this is also where I point out that all these major characters have very convenient names for indicating ships solely via letters. V/A! B/K! S/P/C! This may solve my ot3 tagging problem...

get off that cotton candy boat, vi

Haha I loved that line from Doc Robinson she’s so no-nonsense, love Violet agreeing to work with her

Doc also said menders and I thought about this post again and also the team split and ahhh

But no, I very much liked Violet gently crushing Arkady’s goat farm dreams, and the two of them awkwardly discussing the very awkward stage things are at while still getting a feel for how the other operates

These nerds are trying and I’m still fond of them

at some point I was gonna make fun of Vi for not being able to drive before realising 1. she probably didn’t want to deprive the others of a vehicle 2. that would be incredibly hypocritical of me

wait does the igr have excellent public transport when they aren’t bombing it i take back every bad thing i’ve said abou-

*ahem* same question about the MMA fight debrief I had for Brian, it would be so funny if the situation was so rushed that like, Arkady+McCabe explain to Brian on the farm and Krejjh has to tackle everyone else

tick, tock, walking bomb, when it stops, nobody knows

arkady is so whumpable, and this show knows it

Redundant, but love how terrified of herself she is after hurting Krejjh and how strangely reassured she is by McCabe’s gun antics. And how she doesn’t like thinking of herself as an authority figure on the ship even though she literally is as First Mate

is ready to monologue about all major life events and the crew frickin knows it

is trying to help herself and stuff, still grumbling about it. in worse shape this season than last - probably all the constant discussion of the inevitable war just kept building stuff up and she kept ignoring it because haha who wants to deal with this prickly mess of a person haha

did i mention she’s the best

hope she gets her full goat farm dream one day, even if it’s not on actual goat farm

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Eight: They Don’t Want to be Found

By SisterSpooky1013 / Read previous chapters here

Rated E / Tagging @today-in-fic

Mulder calls in to work the next day, too sleep deprived and mentally exhausted to function. After sleeping until nearly noon, he gets back in his car and returns to Philly. He checks into a hotel that’s just a few blocks from the club and then spends the next several hours trying to watch TV, trying to read, and jacking off picturing Scully topless. A short time later, he jacks off again, this time imagining what he’ll see tonight.

He isn’t really sure what he’s doing or why he’s here. The best excuse he can cook up is that she doesn’t have a weapon and he’s protecting her, but realistically he knows she can take care of herself. Is it really just perversion, that he wants to see her…exposed? What will he say if she spots him? He can imagine her level of mortification if she knew he was here, that he’d seen her, and he feels guilt churn in his gut. She might never forgive him for this.

He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t seem to stop himself from going back. He has to see her again.

Scully had lay awake for hours after Angel left, thinking about what had happened, wondering how it happened in the first place. She’s on a case, how stupid could she be? What if it comes to light that she’s become involved with a witness in the case? She might be suspended. At least then maybe they’d never ask her to do something like this again. What if Mulder finds out? Would he feel betrayed somehow? Would it turn him on?

Somewhere around 6 am, she had finally caved in and slid her hand down the front of her panties, groaning when she felt how wet she was. She swirled her finger around her clit, using her own arousal as lubricant, and imagined what might have happened if Angel’s phone hadn’t rung. Would Angel have touched her? With her hands, or her mouth? Maybe both. Would she have touched Angel? She was approaching the brink just thinking about it. She stopped suddenly, remembering something, and grabbed the bullet vibrator from her bedside table, switching it on and pressing it to her clit as she plunged the middle finger of her other hand as far inside herself as she could reach. Within 30 seconds she was unravelling, images of Angel and Mulder dancing in her head as her walls clamped tightly around her finger. Finally, she had slept.

She manages to sleep until nearly three in the afternoon again, then spends the day getting her nails done, reading, and devising a plan for how she might look through the files in that closet. Without knowing what’s in them, she has no way of gaging whether Ricky is likely to notice if she takes a few at a time and returns them later. Worse still, Lexie is working tonight and that gives any risk she takes the potential to blow the whole investigation. She’s positive that given one more red flag, Lexie will sing like a canary. The silver lining is that Angel won’t be at work for the next three days, so they can get some space from what happened between them.

The evening is mostly business as usual, and she’s a bit horrified to realize that this is becoming as dull and predictable as any other job. She lets her mind wander while she flexes and rolls over horny married men, wondering what Mulder is up to, whether he’s worried about her or even misses her. Part of her wonders if he might realize that his life is less complicated without her, and that he prefers it that way. She feels an ache in her chest, a bit further north than she has grown accustomed to, and realizes how much she misses him.

When he enters the club, she’s at the bar. Half her torso is resting on the bar top as she shouts to be heard by the bartender, who’s laughing at whatever she’s saying. The position she’s in pops her barely covered ass out prominently behind her and his eyes go big at how exposed she is, and how comfortable she seems with it. Her bare breasts are smushed against the lacquered countertop and he feels his cock twitch thinking about how hard her nipples will be when she stands up. Unfortunately, it would be too risky to stick around and find out, so he tugs his ball cap lower and finds a table in the back. The dancers never seem to come back here for some reason.

He keeps his head trained towards one of the other dancers at all times, while his eyes follow Scully’s every move. If he knows one thing, it’s that Scully can feel his eyes on her, so he needs to be careful. His disguise is painfully basic and all it would take is one solid look for her to know it’s him. He watches her give a lap dance to a blushing young woman, a soft smile on her face the whole time, and he can’t decide if he’s more turned on or touched by how hard she’s working to make the woman feel comfortable. The aching hard-on in his jeans suggests the former.

This time he’s mentally prepared for her stage set, and also realizes she can barely see beyond the tip rail with all the stage lights on her, so he lets himself enjoy it. He’s known from the moment he met her that Scully is beautiful, sexy, incredible in every way imaginable, but he never could have imagined her moving like this. She’s so graceful and captivating. He lets himself block out all the other jerks who are leering at her, stuffing bills into her underwear, and just watches her. His Scully. She’s ethereal.

“Seems like you’ve found your ATF,” a voice to his left startles him from his reverie.

“Huh?” he turns to see the same waitress who’d served him last night, clad in a fishnet body suit.

“You were here last night, right? You like Desi?”

He panics. “No! I mean, yes. But, don’t send her over here or anything.”

She nods in understanding. “You like to watch. That’s cool, whatever floats your boat, man. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Yeah, can I get a Captain and Coke?” He walked here, why not enjoy himself, right?

Four drinks for him and ten lap dances for her later, he stumbles into the balmy night and back to his hotel room where he jacks off again. Twice.

Everyone is trickling out slowly at the end of what has been a busy shift. Scully takes her time counting her tips, sharing a cut with her bird dog and the bartender on shift tonight. While she would not say that she likes working here by any stretch of the imagination, her coworkers at the club are her only source of socialization and (with the exception of Lexie) she truly enjoys their company. She’s helping one of the custodial staff, a wiry young man they called Don Juan, put up the chairs on the club floor so he can mop when Ricky approaches her.

“Desi, can I see you in my office, please?” He has a somber demeanor that concerns her.

“Um, sure, of course.” She bids the young man farewell and follows Ricky down the hall. He closes the door behind them and she feels her heart start to race.

Ricky sits down behind his desk and motions for her to take a seat across from him. She’s reminded of her first day here and the feelings of fear and anticipation.

“I need to ask you something, Desi, and I want to make sure you don’t mention it to the other girls.”

“Okay,” she responds, taking shallow breaths to obscure the fact that she’s afraid.

“Angel told me what happened.”

Her mouth falls open but no words come out. Is she in trouble for kissing Angel?

“That’s why she was so upset the other night, when you saw her in here. She told me that she’d talked to you about her past a bit,” he shakes his head ruefully. “Some gall those dirtbags have, shaming her for being sexual in any way, then coming to a titty club on the sly.”

She breathes a sigh of relief. “Right, yes, the people who came in. She was very upset. “

“It was really nice of you to spend some time with her after work. Anyway, I gave her a few nights off. She needs a break.”

Scully nods. “You wanted to ask me something?”

“Right! So, Angel is my right hand gal, she helps me with a lot of stuff around here. With her being out, I wanted to ask you to kind of be her backup, if you will.”

For a moment she’s afraid Ricky is asking her to perform some kind of sexual favor, but she recalls that Angel had said he’s gay. “What did you have in mind?” she asks hesitantly.

“Well mostly, I wanted to give you a set of keys for the club. Angel has one, in case something happens to me and I’m not here to open and close the doors, stuff like that.”

A set of keys? Scully feels a flush of adrenaline. “Of course, I can do that.”

“That’d be great, Desi. I know you haven’t been with us all that long, but you seem pretty trustworthy, at least compared to the other girls. Like I mentioned, I’m hoping we can keep this between us, just so there are no hurt feelings from anyone who’s been here longer than you.”

Her heart is pounding with excitement at the opportunity to gain access to those files. “Is there an alarm code or something I should know about?” She recalls a sign on the door for ADT.

Ricky dismisses her concern with a flick of his wrist. “No, nothing like that. I should get one, but I just pilfered those signs from my buddy to scare off vagrants.”

She nods in understanding.

“Ninety-nine percent chance nothing will happen and there’ll be no need, but thanks for being on deck, just in case,” he says as he hands her a playboy bunny shaped keychain with a single key dangling from it.

Scully smiles at him. “I’m more than happy to help.”

After she leaves the club, she first goes home to stash her tips and change into comfortable, dark clothes, and then gets a big cup of coffee and a disposable camera from the 7-11 near her apartment.

By the time she’s lurking in the corner of the club’s parking lot, watching the door, it’s nearly 4am and there’s still a light on inside the foyer. She sips her coffee and waits, shuffling her feet to keep warm. Finally at 4:50, Denny and Ricky emerge, locking the door behind them. After they leave the parking lot, Scully waits another 20 minutes before she creeps around the perimeter of the lot and approaches the door. Glancing around to be sure no one is watching her, she turns the key and steps inside, locking it behind her.

The quiet stillness is eerie in contrast to the throbbing hive of activity it had been earlier in the night and she flicks on her flashlight, making her way to Ricky’s office. She fits the same front door key into the lock and sighs in relief when it turns. Ricky’s security standards aren’t incredibly high, apparently, but in this case it’s to her advantage. She tries the key on the hallway closets just in case, to no avail, and returns to the office. Navigating to his desk, she pulls open drawers quickly, scanning their contents. Nothing is of interest, and she’s disappointed though not surprised that his keys to other areas of the club aren’t in here. That makes things more challenging, but not impossible. She’s spent her days off at the library researching how to pick locks, including buying a lock picking kit and some padlocks at the local hardware store to practice with, and she feels relatively confident she can get this door open without a key. She might just have to be the one to pick the lock next time she and Mulder have the need. She smiles to herself knowing how impressed he’d be.

Back in the hallway, she pulls the small lock picking kit out of her back pocket and kneels in front of the door, the pen light perched between her teeth. She studies the lock and then inserts a torque wrench at the bottom, turning it slightly to put resistance in the direction it will spin when unlocked. From the kit, she selects a straight, flat pick and runs it from back to front at the top of the keyhole a couple times. Next she exchanges it for a pick with a curved end, pushing it as far back and high as she can reach as she holds her ear close to the lock in the stony silence of the hallway. Bumping against the pins inside the lock, she listens and feels for a small click or give that indicates the pin has settled in its unlocked position. She continues this until she counts five pins clicking into place, then removes the pick and turns the torque wrench.

The lock releases with a soft click and she laughs out loud as the door swings open, beyond pleased with herself. Stepping into the closet, there’s enough room for her to close the door behind her and she does so, pulling a cord to turn on the overhead light. Taking stock of the beige bank of file cabinets, she works top to bottom, left to right, and immediately feels her heart sink when the first four drawers she tries are empty. Would this be yet another dead end? When the fifth drawer snicks open, she sees a small set of files hanging towards the back. She quickly checks all the other drawers so she’ll have a good idea of how much material she has to review, but they’re all empty.

She pulls the files out and sits down with them on the floor, setting the disposable camera near her thigh. There are eight folders nestled inside the hanging file, each one with a set of initials on the tab. The first one is marked “G.A.” and inside she finds an intake form, a personal statement that’s filled out by hand, and a release of liability form. The intake form is sparse and includes nearly no identifying information. The name is listed as simply GA and the fields below it include “entry date,” “exit date,” “reason for sheltering,” and “responsible individual.” On the form for GA, the entry and exit date are both a year and a half prior, about six months apart. Reason for sheltering is listed as “threat of violence-domestic,” and the responsible individual reads “brother.” She turns to the second page, which contains GA’s personal statement.

Continue Reading Here

[cursestothemoon]

The Stuffed Niffler

Ron Weasley x GN! Reader

Word Count: 1618

Warnings: sliiiiiiightly suggestive at the end but only if you squint

Summary: Ron’s s/o loves collecting stuffed animals. For their six month anniversary Ron, obviously, got one to add to the collection. Mr. Cuddlesworth soon became a prized possession but as business builds, it seems Mr. Cuddlesworth has sprouted legs and walked away...

***

It wasn’t an unusual thing for you, a habit formed as a young child that has stuck well into teenage years. Your first stuffed animal was a small yellow bunny, a neat black and white polka dot bow tied around its neck. It wasn’t long after the first bunny that you started to grow your collection.

Over the years you got over being embarrassed about something so trivial, they were soft, fluffy, and they made you happy so why should you sacrifice your own joy because someone said it was childish? It also came as no surprise when you started dating Ron Weasley, the boy was like a teddy bear himself and he found the collection of well over twenty stuffies quite endearing, to say the least.

“You’ve dropped one! I reckon he’s proper offended now.” Ron gasped, pointing at a stuffed shrimp laying on the floor.

You laughed, going to go pick up the shrimp, “I think he’ll get over it, babe.”

“I don’t know, he’s telling me the only way he could even think of forgiving you is if you give me a kiss.” His tone was as serious as he could manage as he said it, watching as you shook your head at him with a smile.

“Oh? Then I better hop to it then.” You beamed, walking over to Ron.

Both of your hands came up to grab his cheeks and pull him down to your face, placing a sweet kiss to his already puckered lips. Ron hummed with happiness as he felt your lips on his, then his hum turned to a whine at you pulling away far too quickly for his liking.

“No time to waste, I’ve got to get them all organized before I join Hermione in the library to study for Ancient Runes.”

It was around your six month anniversary when Ron gifted you your most prized possession, Mr. Cuddlesworth, the stuffed niffler. Ron had even gone as far as giving the thing a few sprays of his cologne before giving it- advice given to him by George- and had already named him, knowing you were quite rubbish when it came to names.

“Honestly, Y/n, Jeremy? There wasn’t a better name? You picked Jeremy?”

You have had Mr. Cuddlesworth for a few months now, the smell of Ron unfortunately having faded due to how often it was smothered to your chest as you slept. You were sure sleeping would be impossible without it, it was your favorite out of the whole collection and you took special care of the thoughtful gift.

Exams were coming up now and you were more busy than ever, hardly finding time to spend with Ron. He of course understood and graciously declined studying with you- you got a bit hot headed when studying- and was feeling a bit deprived of love. That’s how he got his brilliant idea, concocted from clinginess and dramatics, Ron sought out to borrow Mr. Cuddlesworth while you were busy these next two weeks. He was well aware of how much you loved the stuffie, well enough to know that you slept with it hugged tightly to your chest every night- meaning it would smell just like you. Ron, however, failed to realize just how near and dear this stuffed animal was to your heart.

You had been too tired to change out of your clothes the past few days before getting into bed, throwing yourself onto the mattress was enough to get you to fall asleep. You missed Ron, were stressed about exams, and really needed a better studying schedule next year because this was not working out. Luckily, Friday had arrived- albeit slowly- and you had spent much of the night with Ron, Harry, and Hermione in the common room relaxing. It felt like home, being tucked under Ron’s heavy arm, his lips finding your hairline every so often, that you were a bit reluctant to part from him and go to bed. But you did, knowing that Mr. Cuddlesworth would be waiting for you to snuggle until you could see Ron in the morning.

Only, when you got to your dorm, ready for bed, Mr. Cuddlesworth was nowhere to be found. Under the bed was bare- save for a few dust bunnies- your trunk held the infamous shrimp, a few run of the mill teddy bears and a stuffed dragon, Jeremy, but no niffler. In little time you had turned the whole room upside down, much to your roommates’ dismay, and still no sign of Mr. Cuddlesworth.

Now you were panicking, how could he have just vanished? Surely the people in the dorm didn’t take him, and Merlin, the look on Ron’s face if you had to tell him you lost Mr. Cuddlesworth. Then and there it was decided that he couldn't know, you’d find him in the morning and all would be well. You just had to get through tonight.

All was not well, most of the night was spent tossing and turning in bouts of panic and hopelessness when you thought about where the stuffed animal could be. You had never taken it out of this room, never needing to because Ron was always there. When morning arrived, far too soon for your liking, you were still racking your brain as to where the animal could be but now you were doing it on little to no sleep.

Your eyes had bags, lids droopy, and your feet shuffled as you walked into the breakfast hall. A night of no sleep and restlessness was not a good look, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at the moment. Sitting next to Ron, you let your head rest on his shoulder, a short grunt coming out as a greeting.

“You alright, love?” Ron asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You nuzzled into his side, “Just tired, that’s all.”

You were able to rest during breakfast, Ron offering more comfort than Mr. Cuddlesworth, and he smelled of his cologne which was an added bonus. The rest of the day passed in similar fashion, Ron taking your mind off of the missing niffler.  That is until the sun started to set and you were reminded of your unfortunate situation.

The common room had dwindled down to a soft buzz as it got later in the night, most people retiring to their dorms, most people apart from you, Ron, Harry, and Hermione.

“It’s getting rather late.” Hermione stated, looking toward the clock on the wall to her right.

You felt the panic rise again, not wanting to leave Ron just yet, not when Mr. Cuddlesworth wasn’t there in his absence. Harry agreed with Hermione and soon they both left to their respective dorms, Ron and you staying cuddled on the couch. Your eyes started to droop as you gave in to his warmth, nearly fully asleep before Ron woke you with a chuckle that vibrated through his chest.

“Don’t you think we should go too? You’ve been tired all day.” He cooed, sitting up causing you to sit up too.

You weren’t sure if it was the lack of sleep, panic, or stress from oncoming exams, maybe it was everything piled all together, but you felt your waterline start to be weighed down by the onset of tears. Ron must’ve noticed your full waterline glisten in the dull firelight because his face went from that of a soft smile to worry within seconds.

“What’s wrong, love?” His hands came out to pull you into him.

The sob that left your lips was choked and inevitable, “I’m so sorry Ron, but I lost him! I lost Mr. Cuddlesworth and I can’t sleep without him an- and please don’t be mad I feel very sensitive.”

You buried your head into his chest, his hand rubbing small circles onto your back as he tried his best to calm before speaking.

“Don’t panic, darling, I’ve got him. Missed you, that’s all, and he smells like you.” Ron admitted sheepishly.

His big hands coming up to wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks as you stopped crying, letting it all sink in.

“What?” You sniffed.

He nodded, “I missed you and I figured he’d smell like you so I took him. He’s on my bed, I’ll go get him.”

You reached around and grabbed a pillow from the couch, arm swinging back around to whack your boyfriend over the head. Delivering a few more blows with the pillow before speaking.

“You had me worried sick! I thought he sprouted legs and walked away!”

You then punctuated each word with a smack.

“Why.”

Smack

“Wouldn’t.”

Smack

“You.”

Smack

“Tell me?”

Smack

Smack

Ron grabbed the pillow from you before you could continue and caught his breath before speaking.

“Bloody hell, I didn’t think you were this attached to the thing.” He said incredulously.

The heat rose to your cheeks, “Well, when you can’t spend the night with me I have him. Reminds me of you.”

“Git’s replaced me, then?” Ron huffed jokingly.

“No!”

You both started to chuckle at the situation before Ron pulled you to his lips, hands caressing your cheeks with adoration. He pulled away and you leaned forward to peck his nose, making his smile grow and nose scrunch, before you spoke.

“I think I’ve figured out a way to solve the problem.” You hummed.

“Yeah what’s that.” Ron asked, placing a gentle kiss onto your forehead.

You smiled up at him, “I have to spend the night in your room of course.”

Ron smirked, nodding in agreement, “Brilliant. Only we need to make sure we don’t wake Harry. He gets a bit cranky without a full night's sleep.”

taglist:

@amourtentiaa