#she knows exactly what she wants to leave behind

[jaylalolz]

❛ 𝐌𝐑 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

ENEMY!reader x ENEMY!nicholas

SUMMARY, Nicholas didn’t enjoy attending parties, but he was forced to attend one. he immediately is drawn to a fascinating girl he saw, with a mask, only to discover that she is his only enemy.

WARNINGS, smuttyyyy

A/N, i love this plot sm. i hope you guys enjoy!! make sure to heart and leave a comment 🪽

The Halloween party was full, the throbbing beat of the music vibrating through the walls of the old house. Fog machines puffed clouds of smoke that snaked between costumed dancers, and the flashing strobe lights made it hard to tell where one person ended and another began. Everyone was masked, faces hidden behind elaborate disguises. Nicholas stood near the edge of the dance floor, observing the chaos around him through the dark eyeholes of his Ghostface mask.

He hated parties, hated the noise, hated the feeling of people crowding in too close. But what he hated most of all was her. Yet here he was, lingering on the outside because she was supposed to be here tonight. He didn’t know why it mattered—maybe he just wanted to see what kind of ridiculous costume she’d chosen. Probably something overly dramatic, like her personality.

Nicholas tugged at the sleeve of his black robe, adjusting the plastic knife in his hand. His friends had laughed when he chose the Ghostface costume, saying it was cliché. But right now, he was thankful for the anonymity it provided. He could watch, unbothered, shielded by the mask.

He scanned the room. People twirled and laughed, faces painted in ghoulish shades of makeup, masks obscuring their identities. Then he saw her.

She stood at the bar, her dark curls cascading down her back, black lace gloves covering her hands as she leaned against the counter. She was dressed in a black corset, the burgundy velvet of her skirt flowing around her legs. Her lips were painted a deep red, and even through her masquerade mask, Nicholas could tell she was trouble.

He didn’t know who she was, but there was something magnetic about her. Something familiar, though he couldn’t place it.

His feet moved before his brain could catch up, taking him toward the bar where she stood. She was sipping from a crimson-colored drink, her eyes scanning the crowd with an air of detached amusement.

Nicholas cleared his throat as he approached, and she turned to look at him, her gaze flicking over his Ghostface costume. She raised an eyebrow, but there was a hint of a smirk playing on her lips.

“Nice mask,” she said, her voice smooth, but there was an edge to it, like she wasn’t easily impressed.

“You too,” he replied, though he had no idea what her costume was supposed to be. He wasn’t exactly up to date on vampire shows or whatever dark, gothic look she was pulling off.

She tilted her head, her eyes glittering beneath the mask. “Katherine.”

“Ghostface,” he shot back, earning him a chuckle.

Without another word, she downed the rest of her drink, then slid the glass across the bar. Her gloved hand extended toward him, a playful challenge in her eyes. “Dance?”

He hesitated for a second. Dancing wasn’t his thing, but something about her made it hard to say no. Maybe it was the mystery, the way her body moved with fluid grace, or the way she didn’t seem to care what anyone thought. And that smirk—it was infuriatingly tempting.

He grabbed her hand, the warmth of her fingers a surprise through the lace gloves, and let her lead him onto the dance floor.

The music shifted to something slower but still pulsing with energy, the bass thrumming through his chest. Around them, people swayed, masks blending into the darkened space, the flashing lights creating a disorienting blur of color.

She moved in closer, her body pressing against his as they danced. Nicholas felt the sharpness of her hips against his as she swayed, her arms snaking up around his neck. The contact sent a jolt through him, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he moved with her, their bodies falling into rhythm.

For a moment, he forgot about everything—the party, the rivalry, the irritation that always bubbled under the surface when he thought of her. All that existed was the masked woman in front of him, and the strange pull between them.

She tilted her head up, her lips barely an inch from his ear. “You dance better than I thought.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Nicholas muttered, his voice low, but there was no venom in his tone. It was strange, the way she was getting under his skin, making him forget about the person he usually was—the person who was always at odds with someone else.

“Big talk for someone hiding behind a mask,” she teased, her breath warm against his neck.

“You’re one to talk,” he shot back, his grip tightening on her waist. The banter felt effortless, but different. There wasn’t the usual bite to it. Just an undercurrent of something electric.

She let out a low laugh, her body pressing even closer, her hand sliding up to his mask. “What if I take it off?”

He froze, his heart thudding. For some reason, he didn’t want her to know who he was. Not yet.

“What if I don’t want you to?” he replied, his voice a little rougher, his thumb brushing over the fabric of her glove.

She paused, eyes flicking up to meet his through her mask. For a moment, the space between them crackled with tension—like they were standing on the edge of something neither of them quite understood.

Instead, her lips curled into a small, knowing smirk. Without a word, she nodded toward the stairs, a silent invitation.

Nicholas hesitated for a second, his thoughts tangled. Should he do this? But something about the way she moved, the subtle tilt of her head. It felt different. More dangerous.

And despite every instinct telling him to walk away, he found himself moving toward her.

She turned and started up the stairs, her skirt swaying with each step, and Nicholas followed, his heartbeat quickening. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he couldn’t stop himself from being drawn into whatever this was. The rest of the party faded away behind them, the noise muffled as they climbed higher, leaving the crowd below.

At the top of the stairs, she paused, glancing back at him with that same mischievous smile. "Coming?" she asked, her voice a little breathless, though still laced with challenge.

"Do I have a choice?" he muttered, his tone sharp, though his feet kept moving toward her.

"You always have a choice, ghostface," she replied, her gaze flicking over him like she was daring him to turn back.

But he didn’t.

She led him down a quiet hallway, stopping in front of a door that was cracked slightly open. Her fingers brushed the doorknob before she pushed it open wider, revealing a small, dimly lit room. It looked like a guest bedroom, draped in soft shadows from the single lamp in the corner. The sound of the party downstairs seemed miles away now, the noise distant and muted.

She stepped inside, casting a glance over her shoulder. "So," she said, her voice lower now, softer, but still carrying that familiar edge, "was the dance everything you expected?"

Nicholas stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, the click of the latch loud in the quiet space. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her with careful eyes. "What are you playing at?"

She shrugged, moving to the center of the room, her fingers trailing along the edge of the bed. "Who says I’m playing?"

"Why did you invite me back here," he shot back, his eyes narrowing.

Her lips quirked up, but it wasn’t the smug smile he was used to. There was something else there, something more dangerous hiding just beneath the surface. "Wanna play a game, Mr ghostface?," she said quietly, turning to face him fully.

Nicholas swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

"Yes" he says, his voice more certain than he intended.

She stepped closer, her fingers brushing lightly against his chest. "Simon says.. lay on the bed" Her eyes searched his, her hand lingering over the fabric of his shirt.

Nicholas tensed under her touch, his heart pounding. Every fiber of his being told him this was a trap, that she was playing with him. But another part of him, the part that had spent the entire night dancing with her, wasn’t so sure.

"Okay" he says, his voice barely above a whisper. He lays down right at the center of the bed.

She looked up at him, her eyes dark. She starts crawling to him in all fours and sits on his crotch; making him gasp. “Wanna make a deal with the devil?”

Her words hung in the air between them, thick and heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. Nicholas felt his pulse quicken, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

Before he could think about it any longer, she was closer, her breath warm against his neck as she looked up at him. Her hand slid up, fingers lightly grazing his neck. "What’s the matter, Ghostface?" she murmured, her voice teasing but softer now, more intimate. "Scared of a challenge?"

But instead, he reached out, his fingers sliding through the soft curls at the back of her neck, pulling her closer. "I never back down from a challenge," he whispered, his breath mingling with hers.

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable, and for a moment, they were frozen, caught between something much more dangerous.

She took a slow, deliberate lean closer, looking up at him with that same devilish smile. “Simon says.. take my corset off”

He hesitated for just a fraction of a second, but then his hand moved finding the ribbons on her corset and untying them. She didn't move, her eyes locked on his, and the air between them crackled with tension.

"Good boy," she said softly, her lips curving up into a satisfied smile.

“Tell me you want this.” she demands

He nods his head eagerly. “Y-Yes i want it..” he says softly.

"You wanna grind a bit baby?" she smirks in interest. He nods in desperation, dying for it at this point.

He undoes his belt and is about to undo his jeans. His bulge is visible when he unzips, but it is kept hidden by his briefs.

He gently begins to rub himself up and down against her as he rubs his confined erection against her covered core. Her lips parted with an involuntary whimper into his as her gut clenched a sharp knot at the sensitivity.

Her lips twitched at his mercy, pressing herself up against him through the flimsy covering they wore. Her legs began to expand, which allowed him an enormous amount of access. He stretches out his hand to take a firm hold of her hair. "Fuck sakes—that feels good." she responds, pushing his bulge up and down.

He grabs her throat with a forceful motion and turns them over onto the large bed. He reaches down into her panties and runs two fingers up her slit while hovering above her. "Are you soaking wet for me, princess?"

He touched her clit, and she parted my lips. He holds her throat, caressing her core with his fingers.

"You sure you want this?" For the last time, he says. She nods rapidly, aching all over now and pleading to feel him. She cusses, unable to wait any longer, "Please fuck me."

He slowly presses his hips forward while maintaining his position. He drives his tip inside her calmly, her body stretching around him. "Fuck..." He lets out a low sigh.He gives a deep sigh of relief as he pushes just past the head, freezing with just enough. Along with the sensation came a surge of intense pressure and pleasure.

He tries to ease her into the change very slowly, rocking with only half of himself.

“Shit.." He whispers to himself. "You're so tight”

He continues to press until she eventually feels his hips reach the back of her thigh, which was now fully in contact with his chest. She threw back her head and stretched a little, gasping out as she was so full and tight around him. "I can feel you clench around me.." With a stutter of delight, he stammers into the air, the squeeze tightly holding him.

He begins to make more rhythmic hip movements. She felt a warm sensation of pleasure begin to flare up in her lower abdomen as he began to swear. She arched her back involuntarily, but he quickly secured her back into a flat position on the bed.

"Yes— right there." she cried out in pleasure. Her fingers came in contact with her mask as she yanks it out of her face.

It hit him like a punch to the gut.

It was her. His rival. The girl he couldn't stand-the one who always got under his skin, who infuriated him more than anyone else.

The realization sent a thrill of anger— and something else-coursing through him. “Fuck!” She presses against his shoulder as he loses control and grips the back of her neck, slamming her against him. She gasped at the abrupt angle, but before she could react, he grabbed hold of her and began thrusting up into her.

He shouldn’t have continued what he was doing when he realized she was rival his him. But instead, it motivated him to move more quickly. She slams her head back against the mattress. Her thighs quivering in his presence. She was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that she didn't say anything during the high.

She groans at the sensitivity even though she was suddenly exhausted by his sloppy and sluggish thrusting. She couldn't take her eyes off him, even if her lids were heavy.

He twitches inside her, then instantly releases his hold on her stomach by pulling out. Releasing in his climax, he was death grasping the bed cushion above and behind her head. his big hands gripping her sides and his head was buried in her chest.

“Are you gonna take your mask off?”

“I think It’s best If I don’t”

[pitchsidestories]

cat lovers II Mapi León x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1565

a/n: hi readers, the oneshot is inspired by this request, enjoy. 🤍🖤

You and your cat Boo were inseparable.

You had gotten her when she was still a kitten and you had just moved into your own apartment in Barcelona.

You named her Boo because she liked to follow you around like a small ghost, leaving her white fur on all your clothes. She was a curious little thing with blue eyes whose favourite spot was the backrest of your sofa. You learned quickly that just like you, she had a mind of her own and liked to wander around. So far she had always found her way back home.

Only this time, she had been gone for longer than usual. Worry turned into panic as the evening threatened to approach and there was still no sign of her.

Unsure about what to do, you decided to ask your neighbours if anyone had seen her around.

You knocked on doors and rang doorbells but to no avail.

On the third floor of your apartment building, a young woman with a neck tattoo and a septum piercing opened the door. Her hand were buried in the pockets of her sweatpants.

She looked only threatening for the first few seconds. Then her eyes widened in surprise and she greeted you politely: “Hola?”

“Hi, I’m uhm… looking for my cat. The neighbours said you might have an idea where she is.“, you explained, way too fast and filled with nervousness.

The woman narrowed her eyes as if in thought: “Uh… is your cat all white by any chance?”

Your heart started to race in your chest, filling with hope. You nodded quickly: “Yes, she is!”

“Well, then I know exactly where she is. Come on in.“, she smiled and took a step to the side to let you in.

“Okay.“

You followed her through her surprisingly clean and tastefully decorated apartment. You immediately felt a little self-conscious thinking about the pile of laundry sitting in your bedroom.

The woman stopped in front of a plushy cat bed in the corner of her living room. Boo was cuddled up against a jet black cat, purring quietly.

“She’s here, cozying up with Bagheera.“

You could feel a smile forming on your face as you watched the two cats, the previous stress slowly shrinking into nothingness.

“Oh my god. There you are!” You kneeled down to pet Boos head.

“Yeah, you need to be careful… the streets around here aren’t very safe but your cat is always welcome at my place.“, the woman said from behind you.

You said nothing and slowly got up again.

“Oh, I forgot to ask. What’s your and her name?”, she suddenly added.

You froze. You had totally forgotten to introduce yourself a few minutes ago. How embarrassing.

“Oh, sorry. I’m y/n and this is Boo.“, you replied, heat rising in your cheeks.

“Beautiful. Do you want a cup of coffee?”, the woman who introduced herself as Mapi offered.

You politely shook your head: “No, don’t trouble yourself. I will just get her and leave again.“

“Alright.”, she nodded.

“But thank you. And thank you for taking care of her.”, you smiled gratefully at her.

“You’re welcome.”, Mapi returned the smile. She paused before adding. “I hope I’ll see you and Boo again soon.”

“I live on the second floor, feel free to come for a visit.”, you suggested boldly.

Her beautiful brown eyes lit up when you made that offer. “I’ll come back to it.”

“Uhm y/n, do you like football?”, she ran her fingers nervously through her open hair.  

“Football? I’m not a fan, don’t ask me for any players but I do enjoy watch the occasional game. Why?”, you frowned confused.

“Well, I might leave some tickets at your door if that’s okay?”, Mapi asked all flustered.

The woman who intimidated you at first was seemingly nervous which you found equally amusing and heart-warming.

“I .. But I owe you something for finding my cat.”, you protested.

“I’d love for you to see the game and afterwards you could do me the favour of drinking a coffee with me which would be on you.”, she grinned innocently.

“How can I say no to that?”, you questioned smirking.

“Please say yes.”, the woman requested charmingly.

“Yes.”, you agreed.  

“Amazing.”, Mapi commented satisfied.

“I guess.. I’ll see you at the game then?”

“Yes, I can’t wait.”, she replied matching your high excitement.

Unseen by you once you had left with Boo Mapi started to dance around the living room with Bagheera in her arms. Now the defender anticipated the upcoming match day even more than usual knowing that you’d come to the game too.

You meant what you said you really didn’t have a clue about football teams despite it being such a big thing in the city you moved to. So, you were caught off guard when you realized that your neighbour played for Barcelona’s women team.

“Mapi!”, you yelled her name after the game has ended with a glorious victory for her side.

“Y/n!”, the football player’s eyes searched for you in the stands, when she found you, her face started to light up.

“You didn’t tell me that you’d play for Barca! I thought you played just for fun!”, you shook your head.

“Well, I play for fun and for Barca. Did you enjoy the game?”, Mapi wanted to know.

“I did.”, you confirmed happily.

“Great. I’ll quickly shower and when we can go to the coffee shop.”, your neighbour responded.

“Take your time. I don’t mind waiting for you.”, you declared. There was something about the way the defender looked in her jersey that made your heartbeat faster and felt you incredibly distracted by you hoped the effect would lessen when she was in her casual clothes.

“Okay.”

Mapi really didn’t keep you waiting for long. She appeared within minutes, baggy jeans and a plain white shirt on. Her hair was still dripping wet. She looked absolutely gorgeous.

To keep yourself from staring at her, you asked: “Ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.“, she confirmed with a smile.

“I guess I’ll just follow you?” It was half statement, half question.

Mapi nodded: “Yeah, let’s go.“

She took you to little coffee shop close by. The brick walls were covered in hanging plants, vintage leather sofas lined up against it. It was nice but it gave you the impression that you had been here before.

Mapi ordered coffee and cake for the two of you and you immediately began talking. Yes, you were still captivated by how incredibly cool she looked but you felt more than comfortable talking about her love for football, when she had adopted Bagheera and what you did for a living.

In fact, the two of you kept chatting away while you paid and walked back home. The sight of your apartment door suddenly felt you with unexpected dread. It was the first time since the end of the game that you went quiet.

“I really enjoyed tonight.“, Mapi said. She looked happy, content with everything right now.

You weren’t ready to say goodbye yet, still you smiled at her: “Me too, Mapi.“

“Maybe we can do it again soon…?”, the football player suggested carefully.

“I would like that.“, you nodded with happily, relived that this wasn’t over yet.

Mapis smile brightened even more: “Me too.“

You casually turned the key into the lock of your door, expecting Mapi to say goodbye and take the stairs to her own apartment. But when you opened the door slightly, Boo slipped out through the gap and darted towards Mapi. Purring, she rubbed her head against Mapis legs.

“Oh shit. Sorry. Looks like Boo wanted to say hi to you.“, you laughed apologetically.

The defender didn’t seem to mind. Without hesitation, she kneeled down and petted your cat: “It’s fine. Hi, I’m supposed to tell you from Bagheera that she misses you.“

You chuckled: “Aw, she does?”

“Yes, I think she fell a bit in love with her like…“, Mapi paused her explanation and looked up at you.

“Like?”, you asked, your breath catching in your throat.

She got up from the floor, her eyes fixed on you.

“Like I fell for you.“

“You… you did?” Your heart suddenly felt too big for your chest, you tried to calm your breathing.

Mapis cheeks turned red. She grimaced, part regret, part shame. “Y-yes, sorry if… You can forget that if it makes you uncomfortable.“

You felt yourself essentially melting into a puddle. How could someone so hot be so sweet?

“Mapi… don’t apologize. I like you too.“, you assured her softly.

“Wait. You do?” There it was. That perfect little smile that made her whole face light up. It was infectious.

“I do.“

“Breakfast at mine tomorrow? With the cats?“

You nodded: “I’ll bring Boo and some fresh croissants.“

As promised you showed up with the pastries the next morning. Mapis apartment already smelled like freshly brewed coffee and on the table were glasses of orange juice and bowls of cut up fruit. If she wanted to impress you, you had to admit it did work.

Boo and Bagheera nestled up next to each other in Bagheeras cat bed again. The white and the black cat fitting into each other like missing puzzle pieces. You smiled to yourself as you sat down with Mapi and secretly thanked Boo that she had the same type as you.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Villain's Protector (Part 1) - Don't Blame Me

Summary: The reader wants out from working for the CIA so they propose a deal. She acts as the captured Soldier Boy's caretaker and she's free to go in six months. Their idea of stealing Soldier Boy's supe altering powers aren't exactly for what the reader thinks though and she needs Solider Boy to escape for her own plans. But those plans go awry when the CIA unleashes a dangerous life-changing weapon and the only way for her and Soldier Boy to survive is to stick together...

Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy x reader

Word Count: 5,400ish

Warnings: language, violence, torture, bombing,

A/N: This series takes place post Season 3. Please enjoy this first part and let me know what you think!

________

“Y/L/N.” You lifted an eyebrow, finding an unfamiliar older woman at the entrance to your office. Your supervisor nodded beside her and you pulled your headphones off, letting them rest around your neck. “You’re off desk duty.”

“The chatter from these guys-”

“Yeah, I know. Somebody else will handle it. As of five minutes ago, you report to her now,” said your supervisor, rattling a knuckle on the door. You were ready to argue about how you were promised desk duty to finish out these last six months but she was gone before you could blink. You grumbled as the older woman stepped inside, closing the heavy door behind her.

“I heard you want out,” she said. You leaned back in your chair, cocking your head. “Nobody ever really leaves the CIA you know.”

“What’s my handle ID?” you asked, the woman raising her chin. “I ain’t telling you jack shit until I know you’re legit.”

“Black Midnight Angel. You want to get to work now? Or you going to waste more of my time?” You narrowed your eyes, the woman giving it right back. “Work this job for six months until you leave and the agency will pay for your schooling. And I know you’re skeptical so we already wired the funds to your bank account.”

“Black ops?” you asked quietly. She shook her head, taking a seat in the chair across your desk.

“Mallory Fischer,” she said, your lips pressing into a thin line. “You know what I do then.”

“Yes, I do. Question is why do you want me on your team? There are far more qualified people.” She looked you up and down, a small smirk crossing her lips.

“You’re right. Your agent assessment scores are average aside from your intel work. Last time you were in the field you were shot-”

“Why. Me.” You knew it was coming. You knew exactly what was coming.

“You have a year of medical school under your belt.” That…was not what you were expecting. Did she not…know? Maybe not. Fine. You weren’t bringing that up if you could help it.

“I do. You should know that the reason I couldn’t finish was because the CIA recruited me, despite my desire to not join,” you said, letting it hang in the air. Mallory rolled her eyes and crossed her legs. “You people fucked up my life plan you know. I’m thirty two. I’m going to be a good 5 years minimum behind my peers by the time I graduate.”

“Did I give you the impression that I give a shit?” You grumbled but kept your mouth shut. “You agreed to work here.”

“You threatened to deport my friend if I didn’t,” you growled. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have had an ex-boyfriend with ties to-”

“Just stop. What the fuck do you want with me?”

“I have Soldier Boy.” You laughed, Mallory dead eyed. “I’m quite serious.”

“He fucking blew up last week.” Mallory cocked her head. You sighed, running a hand over your mouth. “He fell from, what, the seventieth floor? He’s really that strong?”

“He’s damn near indestructible. If it makes you feel better, Maeve survived too. But seeing as how she hates Vought more than most, we let her slide. Pretty sure she and her girlfriend went up to-” 

“So she’s free and you don’t give a fuck about what she does. Fine. But what the fuck does ‘I have Soldier Boy’ mean exactly?” you asked. Mallory eyed you up and down. 

“He’s Homelanders father.” You rolled your eyes and she frowned. “Why exactly is that not surprising to you?”

“Come on,” you laughed. “The most powerful supe to exist suddenly disappears right around the time Homelander was born? They’re both the poster child for all american wonder boy. I figured he was the dad doing a book report in middle school. It’s not that complicated.”

“Then you can understand why having Homelander’s father provides us an opportunity. His power is the only weapon we have that comes close to taking Homelander out. You watch the news. Homelander is losing his shit. We need to find a way to deal-”

“You don’t need Soldier Boy’s powers to fucking catch Homelander. If you caught pops, you can catch the kid and for the record, I am not one of your fucking super agents so you want me for research, fine. But save the shooting and catching Homelander for your own people.” You scooted your chair in closer to your computer, Mallory grabbing your hand roughly when you placed it on your mouse.

“Soldier Boy didn’t have the power to knock out other supes powers until after the Russian’s tortured him. We need to understand that ability of his and what made it change.” You sighed, pulling your hand away. “Work the job and in six months you’re gone.”

“And what exactly does this job entail?”

“We need a doctor, or the next best thing, for the night shift. Twelve hour shifts. You feed him, clean him, tend to him. Most of the time he’s going to be out cold. It’s maybe an hour of real work a night. You can do whatever the fuck you want in your office when you’re taking care of him, I really don’t care. We just need him in working order, got it?”

You pushed away from your computer, lifting your chin. “And that hour where he’s not out cold? How the fuck do I go near him without dying?”

“You better not be claustrophobic.”

Two Days Later

Mallory had ditched you not five minutes after seven pm after showing you to an office in the very plain looking warehouse in upstate New York. She’d naturally failed to mention that Soldier Boy was being held at a facility outside of the city. But you weren’t about to complain, not when the commute was shorter than your original one. So there you stood, a frozen TV dinner in your backpack, a guard dressed head to toe in black combat gear with an assault rifle almost as big as you, still wondering what the hell you were meant to do.

“You guys got a break room?” you sighed, dumping the bag on the desk and pulling out your dinner.

“Two doors down on the left. Unisex bathroom is around the corner,” he said, still not revealing his face from behind his dark mask. That was fine. He was an overqualified security guard in your mind. “Mallory left a schedule and map of the building on your desk. Burn them when you’ve memorized it.”

“Yup,” you said, walking past him and heading down the hall. “So how many guards are there right now?”

“The only staff on the night shift is yourself, a dozen interior guards, and four patrolling external officers.”

“No custodial staff?” you asked, entering the bare bones room with a microwave, old fridge and a wobbly table. Wonderful.

“No. They clean during the day. The facility isn’t large enough to warrant external help.” You hummed, popping the tray out of the box and into the microwave. “Do you have any further questions?”

“Is the Novichok gas always on in the room he’s held in?” you asked. He shook his head.

“He’s kept in a cryo tube during the night. Before entering the room, we will fill the room with gas for five minutes that will allow him to waken slightly but remain harmless. You will then enter in your hazmat suit and remove him from the chamber where you will perform your duties. When you indicate you are finished, we will increase the gas until he passes out and you can place him back in the tube. When you leave the room, we will stop the gas.” 

“Does he eat during the day? What about the bathroom?” He was still and you frowned. “Dude. I get that everything is need to know but I need to know basic shit about my patient.”

“You feed him according to the schedule. He has a catheter.”

“And going number two?” 

“He doesn’t get solids.”

“I don’t care what kind of liquid diet he’s on, he’s still going to shit.”

“I have my job, you have yours.” 

You grumbled when he left, hitting the power on for your dinner. Just what you wanted for a career. Wipe the ass of the world’s most powerful supe.

You tried to forget about that portion of your “duties” as you ate your meal. It was still going to be easier than your first rotation in med school, that was for sure. He’d just…lay there drugged out of his mind. With the small threat in the air of if your hazmat suit tore for any reason, like say an angry supe being held prisoner grabbed it and ripped the plastic which he very likely was capable of even in that state. 

Easy peasy.

You were able to distract yourself for an hour by walking the halls to figure out the layout of the building. The guard had been right. It wasn’t a large building. There were a few offices and typical building facilities in the front of the building. Security was stationed in the middle and Soldier Boy’s holding cell along with a viewing room was in the back corner. What appeared to be an operating room was further down the hall but that wasn’t entirely uncalled for in a black ops prison like this. You couldn’t exactly take your wounded agents or prisoners to a normal hospital. 

You ended your self-guided tour in the viewing room staring down at the dark room below. Save for the soft blue light emitting from the cryo tube. You couldn’t see much at the angle. The top of the tube was see through but all you spotted were a pair of bare feet.

“He’s not strapped down?” you asked as the door to your right opened, a guard stepping through, this one slightly shorter than the one you’d spoken to originally.

“No. You’ll need to move him around. He’s wearing a face mask providing a direct stream of Novichok gas to him. You only need to remove it when you shove a tube down his throat for feeding. I’d suggest saving that for last.”

You quirked an eyebrow up. He was a supe, sure. This was a CIA secret holding prison, sure. The treatment of prisoners didn’t exactly have to adhere to the Geneva Convention in this kind of environment.

But it felt gross treating him like a meat puppet, keeping him alive only to figure out his powers. Which made you consider something else.

“Why go through the trouble of keeping him alive? Wouldn’t it be easier to just drown him? Or just take his DNA and recreate the power aspect?” you asked. Unsurprisingly, the guard didn’t answer. You crossed your arms, glancing at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t much past eight and there were still a few hours until his scheduled “wake” time. “New plan.”

“New…plan?” he asked. You just knew he was rolling his eyes at you behind those thick black goggles.

“Well he’s my patient, isn’t he? I’m making a new schedule, one that’s more appropriate for the patient.”

“You can’t do that,” he said quickly, your chin raising. “He’s a prisoner.”

“I know I’m just the glorified ass wiper for this guy but the more he feels like he has someone in his corner, the more apt he is to let a secret loose. Maybe he says jack shit but maybe he tells me what the russians did so you can figure out whatever power crap you’re looking for. Got it?” 

“That’s the Y/N I’d expect.” You turned around, Mallory appearing in a doorway behind you. “Dismissed, Greg.”

“Don’t play games with me,” you said when the guard left. Mallory took a few steps forward to join you at your side, peering down into the room below. 

“We had to know you’d be a team player. You’re not dumb. I think you can understand why I want you to do this job, even if you don’t have your medical degree.” You narrowed your eyes. 

“Am I supposed to be his doctor or his fake friend? Which is it?” you asked.

“Both. It probably won’t work, the cocky bastard’s too smart for it, but it doesn’t hurt to try every option. I’d like to think you in particular would be willing to do whatever it takes to figure out that supe destroying beam of his. Am I wrong?” You ignored her, staring through the glass to the dark room. 

“You hired me to be his doctor so that’s what I’ll be. Anything more will be my choice, am I clear?” 

“Fine. Now let’s get you acquainted with your patient.”

“Fine.” You turned and left the room, heading down a set of stairs. You were in a changing room that had hazmat suits and respirators, different outfits for you to choose from. Along the back was a fridge that held his food, a thick mixture that looked completely unappealing. Beside the fridge was a cart for you to bring in and out, a medical bag on top but otherwise it was bare.

You stared at the options and sighed as you picked up the gas mask on its own. For one, if he wanted to kill you, he really could, suit or no suit. But mostly you had a bad feeling in your gut, like he needed some actual human interaction. If they were barely letting him be conscious during the day, he was going to start having problems. Namely, the angry supe was only going to get angrier which meant more violent which meant way more likely he killed you.

A gentle hand might be the only way to get through these six months in one piece. 

After securing your mask, you made a note of the log by the fridge, surprised to find he’d been fed roughly an hour before your shift started. Huh. Maybe they were treating him better than you’d though. With your bag in hand, you hit the button on the wall, thick metal doors opening and allowing you to step into an air lock. You hit the button behind you, sealing it off and then a large black one with a hazard symbol over it. A small light appeared red over the button for a moment before turning green. You hit the button on the far wall and another thick door opened to the dim room. A fine mist clung to the air, deadly novichok swirling all around you. You raised your arm, checking for any reaction but you weren’t expecting one. Novichok was an aerosol. You had to breathe it in to suffer any consequences which hopefully you’d never find out how that felt.

The door shut quietly behind you, leaving you alone save for Mallory observing from behind the thick glass panel above.

You set the bag down, approaching the side of the far end of the chamber and hitting a large black button. A locking mechanism released, the door swinging open and allowing you to grab the end of the pull out tray. The first thing you noticed was Soldier Boy was naked, followed by a slight warmth to the air. The tray helped but he was heavy, a solid wall of muscle you noticed as your eyes darted over his body. Every inch of him oozed strength.

Ever so gently, you moved to his side, knuckles grazing over up his leg, over his strong thigh, soldi chest. You rested your palm over his chest, a slow, steady beat thrumming away.

You didn’t falter, didn’t do anything strange as you started to check his pulse, mind wandering while you went through the motions.

Sure, you’d be his fucking doctor. Until you figured out how to get him out of there that was. 

Ten minutes later you returned to the viewing room where Mallory had remained, her focus on Soldier Boy below.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. I know you’re thinking about how to break him out. Why do you think I hired you?” You smirked, cocking your head. 

“So you don’t want me for my medical knowledge. Shocking.”

“Fuck no, just like I know you have no desire to finish med school. Use that money for whatever the fuck you want. You do what I ask and we’ll give you ten times that and maybe we end up dealing with your little…problem along the way.”

You glanced at Soldier Boy, pursing your lips. “Why the ruse? Why not just tell me you want me to act like I’m the only one on his side?”

“Because I had to see how good an actor you are. The second I told you he can take away another supes powers…you should have seen your face. You were already in. You’ll have to be on all the time with him though. No mistakes. He’ll snap your neck if he finds out.”

Your gaze shot back to Mallory, her mouth forming a small smile. “I’m good at pretending everything is just fine. So what exactly is the plan to get him to trust me?”

“Be his friend. A few weeks from now you’ll miraculously break him out after learning about the torture he goes through during the day in our attempts to understand his powers. He’ll be leery of course but weak with the massive dose of novichok will get in him. By the time it wears off, he’ll trust that you’re a caretaker for him, likely even fall for you. And then? You prove your loyalty, shower him with that love he so desperately wants but won’t admit to. By then, he’ll blow the powers out of whoever you tell him to. He’ll be our loaded gun without even realizing.”

“That’s what you wanted all along,” you said, Mallory nodding for the two of you to leave the room, heading down a hallway. “Because if it doesn’t work, you can blame it all on me.”

“There’s a reason I wanted you on this job kid and it’s not just because that man will take one look at you and want to screw you. You will need to adapt on the fly. Use that head of yours and we’ll relay the list of supes we want him to take out and then he’ll go back in his box.”

“We’ll worry about that later. Let’s just hope he doesn’t kill me first.”

You were tired when you got home from work the next day around seven thirty in the morning. Mallory and security had given you an in-depth briefing of their plans. It was all very simple. Manipulate him. Make him see you as his only friend. Break him out and make him reliant on you to the point where he was doing exactly what they wanted without lifting a finger.

Except that wasn’t your plan. You’d break him out, play along to get him there but the second you had him alone, you’d tell him the truth.

And if he killed you in a fit of rage, so be it.

If he even could.

Three Weeks Later

You were grateful Mallory no longer came into work during your shifts. She wasn’t suspicious of you. Shit, she thought she had you read like an open book and you were perfectly happy to let everyone keep on thinking that. The guards left you alone unless you asked for something from them which meant you spent a lot of time either in Ben’s room, you’d taken to calling him Ben when you went in with him, or sitting in the observation room with a book.

It wasn’t hard to feign boredom when there wasn’t much to do. You desperately wanted to spend more time with Ben but it was dangerous to leave him off the gas for more than thirty minutes at a time. He wasn’t exactly what you’d call cognitively aware when you’d pull open the drawer and assess him. His eyes would flutter open weakly, a glimpse of an angry glare behind them before he’d call you a bitch and they’d shut again, his chest rising and falling deeper than when he slept. 

Which meant you were in for a fun time in about forty five minutes when you were supposed to “break him free” according to the plan. You were meant to go about your usual routine with him before they’d take him away to the operating room they called it. More like commit war crimes against a prisoner.

You didn’t know exactly what they were doing to him during the day but it was bad enough that Ben was starting to show injuries. Injuries. On an all powerful supe. Nothing major. A few bruises and scratches but it meant something was up and you wanted to be done with this charade and now.

You just needed Soldier Boy to take care of Reaper, that god awful supe, and then he could do whatever the fuck he wanted for all you cared.

A faint scream in the distance made your head snap up. You heard it again and closed your book. Who the hell would be screaming in a place like this? You got up and headed down the hall, dipping your head in the observation room.

A louder scream rang out as you saw the empty cryo chamber. You ran out to the hall, bumping into a guard.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, Lance from the sounds of it. 

“Where is he?” you asked, more screams heard now.

“Oh. Yeah, they kept him in the operating room longer today so he can do his ‘breakout’ with you soon. Sorry for the noise, he can get loud sometimes.”

“What?” you asked, furrowing your brow. 

“The breakout. You’re supposed to grab him from the operating-“

“I know which room I’m supposed to fake the breakout from. Why is he screaming?” you asked. The guard blinked, raising an eyebrow.

“He always screams. I would too if they shoved nuclear waste through a needle into my eyeball.” You scrunched up one eye, the guard giving you a look like you were the weird one. “It’s the only way they get the red matter out of him…”

“If you have your fucking red matter then what the fuck are you faking a break out for,” you growled. The guard held up his hands. “I asked a question.”

“Listen. I’m only telling you this cause I like you. They needed to fake a breakout that way they can drop their red matter bomb they’ve been brewing up and wipe out Soldier Boy and let the fallout spread down to the city and kill all the supes there, including Homelander. You were…the fall guy,” he said quietly. Your eye twitched as you grabbed his assault rifle, jamming the end under his jaw. “Y/N-”

“The only reason I’ll let you live is because you warned me. Now put on your gas mask.” He hesitantly did as told, securing it before you clocked him in the back of the head. 

Soldier Boy let out another pained scream and you’d had enough. You grabbed your gas mask from your office and ducked into the security office, grateful to find it empty. A large red button behind glass sat on the far end of the console.

NOVICHOK - EMERGENCY USE ONLY

“Fuckers,” you said before smashing it, jamming it with the butt of your weapon. You watched on screen as people started to panic and then came the screams in the hallways as the nerve gas tore through their nervous systems, quickly but oh so painfully killing them. You knew there’d be a few people that would see the flashing amber lights in the halls and get their masks on before they keeled over. Whatever.

You’d deal with those people easily enough.

The monitors showed most people had gone down, convulsing violently as they foamed at the mouth. The south hallway was clear and after checking your gun, you ducked back outside, slipping the sidearm from the guard you’d knocked out into the back of your jeans. Soldier Boy had stopped screaming, the halls eerily quiet. Still, you stepped carefully, amber flashes bouncing off the dull gray walls.

Past the bodies, you went down the far passage, taking a breath before opening the double doors. Blood stained the walls. Dried blood. Old, rusty, oxidized blood. 

“What the fuck…” you trailed off, eyes settling on where a barely conscious Soldier Boy lay restrained on the metal table in the center of the room. 

“Y/N,” he mumbled, your eyes widening briefly. He rarely spent time awake with you and the rare occasion he did he’d only ever called you curses. 

“Can you fight?” you asked, unbuckling the thick leather restraint wrapped around his right wrist. He was strong, powerful. But even he couldn’t escape when they kept him gasing him all the time. He grunted, closing his eyes. “Most of them are dead but there’s stragglers to deal with.”

“Why?” You raised an eyebrow under your mask, removing the leather restraints over his torso and left wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you out of here. I need to get you up North,” you said, strapping the gun over your body. You helped him sit up, Soldier Boy’s body lax, littered with dark bruises. “Can you walk?”

He only stared as he slumped against your chest, face jammed against your body before mumbling, “You got great tits.”

“Jesus fucking christ,” you muttered. You grasped his shoulders, forcing him upright, Soldier Boy scowling as you barely kept his heavy body steady. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he tried to growl, coming out like a petulant child instead. You rolled your eyes, scanning the room quickly. Trays of syringes littered the room, bottles of something red inside some, a cream white liquid in another. “Fuck off.”

You dropped his shoulder, grasping his jaw hard, Soldier Boy flinching slightly at the touch. You’d deal with whatever the fuck that reaction was later. 

“I will leave you here to die you insolent little man-child. Cut. The. Shit. Now.” The hardness in his gaze stopped, an almost panicked expression replacing it. “Work with me here. What’d they do to you? Why are you the equivalent of a sack of potatoes?”

“They keep me gassed and stick the white stuff in my eyes. I think it’s novichok,” he said. He closed his eyes, slumping forward ever so slightly before flying them open. “It’s the only way they get the drugs in. Or out.”

“Out?” You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head. “Later. Can you move on your own or no?”

“I’m fucked for at least a few hours. Does that answer your fucking question?” He spit out the words, his glare indicating you’d be thrown against a wall if he were capable at the moment.

“Little bastard,” you grumbled to yourself, slinging the automatic rifle across your chest. He raised an eyebrow as you sighed. “Here’s how this works. You do as I say or you can die here. Your choice.”

“Get me the hell out of this shithole,” he growled, reluctantly holding out a hand. You turned, squatting down and pulling him into a fireman’s carry. He was warm against you, two hundred plus pounds of solid muscle. “At least you ain’t a weakling.”

“Shut up. Take that handgun in my waistband and shoot anything that moves and I mean anything.” He grunted which you took as an answer. You shifted you itself. Fuck, he was heavy. Dead weight too. 

He might be able to run his mouth but that was all he had going for him. He nearly dropped the gun the second he took it out of the back of your jeans. Without another word, you exited the room, fine mist filling the corridors. Quickly, you moved down the hall, Soldier Boy grunting more than once.

“Shut up,” you whispered.

“Fuck off,” he snapped back, albeit more quietly. With gritted teeth, you continued forward, eyes flaring wide when you saw movement ahead. Gunfire rang out as you spun around, Soldier Boy hissing as loud shots fired off behind you. It went quiet, Ben dropping huffing against your back. “Thanks for using me as a fucking meat shield. That’s the only reason you busted me out, isn’t it?”

You dropped him straight on the ground, straddling his hips, not even a flicker of amusement on his face. You held up the gun, Soldier Boy scoffing. “What part of listening to what the fuck I say don’t you understand?”

“Leave me to die then, bitch.” You grabbed his jaw, pressing your thumb right under his eyes socket, his eyes narrowing. You pointed the gun at the inner corner, his eyes focused on the barrel.

“I need you to kill a supe for me. Reaper.”

“Reaper? That dumb fuck kid? Why the-” You pressed the hot barrel against his cheek, Ben growling.

“It doesn’t matter why I want him dead but I do. You will die if we stay here, Ben,” you said, tucking the gun back away. You sighed, checking the silent hallways once before re-focusing on him. “Lots of people hurt you. People here hurt you. But I am the only one that’s ever tried to protect you from something. So be quiet or I will leave.”

A grin crawled onto his face, a frown forming on yours. “You need me, don’t you sweetheart? Cut the tough guy act-”

You grabbed his throat, Soldier Boy’s eyes narrowing. “A bomb is going to drop killing all supes on the eastern seaboard. That’s us and you know what? Fuck it. Maybe I get lucky and this thing kills Reaper somehow and I don’t need you.”

“Dramatic are we?” he said as you stood upright. You got three steps down the hall when he slammed his fist against the cement floor. “Fine! I’ll shut up and kill Reaper for you. Now get me out.”

You smirked, wiping it off your face and hoisting him up once more. He stuck to his word, keeping his lips sealed as you made your way out, shooting one more guard at the front lobby area before you were in the parking lot. 

After a quick check for trackers and bombs, you picked him up off the cold pavement, sitting him in the passenger seat of your SUV.

“My suit,” he mumbled. “Need my suit.”

“Already in my trunk. I was supposed to take break you out,” you said, closing the door.

“What the hell does that mean?” he asked when you got behind the wheel, leaning over to buckle him up so he didn’t slump over.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, pulling off your mask and tossing it in the back seat. “We need to-“

You both tensed when the night sky lit up red in the distance, a towering inferno blazing up into the atmosphere from the direction of the city.

He grabbed your hand as a shockwave barreled toward you, both of you flinching as a strange feeling washed through your bones.

But you also felt a sharp familiar zap kick in and course through your arm, straight into his hand. He pulled his hand away, staring at you. 

“What the fuck was that? Why the fuck aren’t we dead?” he asked, flexing his hand as best he could.

“I sort of…can’t die. I guess that bomb can’t kill me…or Reaper,” you mumbled, turning the car on and driving out of the compound. All the while you felt his drugged up stare. “I can’t control it. But good news for you, apparently you can’t die either when you’re touching me.”

You didn’t want to acknowledge that you felt all of his fear and pain when you’d somehow protected him. How afraid he was. How fucking alone he felt way, way deep down in a place even he didn’t touch until the moment of immediate death.

You slowed down, reaching over to hold his hand, ignoring the way he relaxed at the touch. Soldier Boy was out cold fast as the adrenaline wore off, his grasp on you too tight to slip out of.

You didn’t get far though, barely a few miles up the road when you saw people arguing outside a house, strange red streaks across their skin.

What the fuck did that bomb do?

Unfortunately for the two of you, you didn’t have to wait long to find out.

____________

A/N: Part 2 coming soon!

[orphiclovers]

Yoo Joonghyuk be honest. you imprinted upon Kim Dokja like a baby duckling didn't you.............this is really embarrassing, you look desperate. And it's exactly this naive, exploitable trust in very shady strangers that got you betrayed by Anna Croft 200 times!!

It's their 'first real conversation' and Yoo Joonghyuk's already traumadumping about his dead ex wife. WHY would you TELL HIM ALL THIS, I THOUGHT you were supposed to be repressed! you're coming off too strong! this is the opposite of repressed, he's leaking depression and sadness everywhere - lowkey an ick if I was in KDJ's position but to each their own...

And then.

UGHHHH whatEVERRRR in a moment of weakness he seeked out Lee Seolhwa hoping for comfort and familiatity and understanding and was rejected violently. And yet instead of being left alone and adrift, here he finds Kim Dokja saying, 'I understand.'

And that's so important for him to hear in this moment.

'Understanding' is what every single character in ORV seeks, yet by Kim Dokja's own admission here and and throughout the novel we know YJH never recieves it in TWSA. His biggest damage is loneliness and having no one to share his pain with. That's why it shakes him so deeply to be offered these words that he has always yearned for. And Kim Dokja knows this of course, that's why he says them.

Then, Yoo Joonghyuk assumes this is 'the power of a prophet' which does NOT bode well for how this situation must have gone in TWSA without Kim Dokja there. If after having his ties severed with Lee Seolhwa he later tried to find this understanding and comfort in Anna Croft, 'the prophet' being indirectly referenced here, it makes sense why he kept returning to her despite her betrayals.

No wonder, as she would have been the only person who remembers their history (no matter how hateful) and could be said to be the same woman that he remembers in the previous regression (which is what he stated he wanted from Lee Seolhwa). This is the power of a prophet that Kim Dokja is borrowing - he plays Anna Croft's role to Yoo Joonghyuk.

Like, of COURSE yoocroft kept coming back to each other, they could have never escaped each other's gravitational pull as the only people in the universe going through the same thing (until Anna Croft lobotomizes herself and leaves him behind for good that is).

...And then YJH tries to backpedal by saying 'no I still think you're bad you kidnapped my sister' like brother who are you trying to fool it's SO over for you.

[hotgirlbedtimescenarios]

Loved You More

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader *no physical description* (one-shot)

Words: 1.4k+

Warnings: angsty and sad, mentions of loss, mentions of pregnancy / wanting children

Inspo song - Let Me Love You More Braxton Keith

Main Masterlist

It was falling apart around you, just as you had feared. You were fighting with Joel again, not because he had done anything wrong, but because of what he wouldn’t do.

He won't let you all the way in. He won't let you love him the way you know you can.

 It was the silence he wrapped around himself, the walls he built, keeping you at arm's length.

No matter how many intimate nights you shared or happy moments passed between you, he refused to let you all the way in. You knew he loved you; he told you every chance he got, and the warmth in his eyes affirmed it.

So why won’t he give himself to you fully?

“Joel, please,” you cried, tears tracing paths down your cheeks. “I told you that doesn’t matter anymore. I want you.”

It shattered Joel’s heart to hear the agony in your voice, but his resolve had crystallized into something unyielding. He took a deep breath, fighting the tremor in his chest.

He fights the urge to pull you into his chest and rub a soothing hand across your back.  “You can’t give up your dreams for me. You deserve a white wedding, a husband, kids, a bright, beautiful family. It’s what you’ve always wanted. Don’t deny it.”

“You’re enough, Joel,” you insisted, desperation clawing at your words. “I don’t need anything else.”

“That may be true now,” he sighed, sorrow etched deep into his features, “but what happens when you wake up one day and realize you want more? When it’s too late? You’ll resent me for taking those dreams away.”

“Then why!” Your voice rises, breaking. “Why did you let it go this far? Why don’t you want a life with me?”

“I do!” he admitted, anguish cracking his voice. “But I’ve done this before. I had a wife and a daughter, and when I lost it all, I nearly lost myself. Hell, I damn near didn’t make it. I don’t have it in me to be the man you need. Not anymore.”

“So, this is it?” you whimpered, the weight of finality hanging heavy in the air.

“This is it.” And with that, he turned, leaving a gaping void where hope had once lived, and he didn’t look back.

You sink to the cold, hard floor, sobbing until the tears dry, leaving behind only a hollow ache.

---

Two nights before, Joel decided he had to leave you. It was after watching your face at his niece's kindergarten graduation.

He saw how you beamed with joy and cheered for the little girl walking across the stage just as loud as her parents, Tommy and Maria. After the ceremony, you scooped her into your arms for a bear hug and looked at her precious face with love and longing, and Joel knew what had to be done.

Being a mother has always been your dream, and he knew it was meant for you. Joel had seen it in your gentle hands, how you braided hair and made flower crowns, how your voice soothed children to sleep, the perfect sweet tenor for singing lullabies and tucking babies into bed. You were born to nurture, to love, but he couldn’t give you the family you deserved.

He knew you'd be a perfect mother, but being a father was no longer in the cards for him. Of course, he's still a father; he will always be deep down. The love for his daughter Sarah and the void it left in him when she passed is exactly why he can't bring himself to go through it again.

Protecting her was his job, and he failed.

He'd had a wife then and failed at that, too. He hadn’t been enough for her to stay.

He didn't want to fail you too. So instead of dragging you with him in a lonely existence where he knew he wouldn’t allow himself to give you kids or marry you, he decided to let you go.

 He loves you enough that he can't be selfish with you. He loves you more than he loves himself, so he sets you free. It is his final act of mercy. It is a bittersweet gift to free you from a future of sorrow.

He can't be everything you need, and he doesn't want to rob you of what you've always wanted.

Although you might never forgive him, he hopes you will understand.

He prays that one day, you will see that to love you more, he had to set you free.

---

6 years later.

Joel wakes in his empty home, the silence echoing around him like it always does. After a restless night and an early morning cup of coffee, he drives into town to load up on supplies for the job site he’s heading to this week.

Joel drives his pickup truck downtown with the windows rolled down, enjoying the cool brush of the autumn air against his skin and basking in the sun's warmth.

He parks on the curb outside the hardware store downtown and exits his vehicle, shutting and locking his door behind him. He stretches his tired bones in the warm sun and breathes in the fresh air. Today felt good, which is rare for him. But the day is beautiful, and he is determined to enjoy it, to try to allow happiness, no matter how small, a place in his life.

But then, a doorbell jingles from across the street, pulling his attention in that direction, and time seems to halt. He sees you—for the first time in years. His heart constricts painfully in his chest.

Over the years, he’s heard about you, your engagement, and your wedding, too. It hurt, damn, it hurt, but it's why he left you in the first place. To give you that chance, and now that he can see it all worked out for you, he's glad he made that choice.

He watches as two children, your children, exit a café across the street, bursting out the door, laughter dancing in the air. You follow behind, a baby cradled in your arms, your face alight with a joy he had never been able to give you. And there was your husband, a man younger and more suited for you, guiding you with a gentle hand on the small of your back.

Joel feels as if he were shattering all over again, a specter haunting a life he could never reclaim. He stands frozen, unable to look away. You were everything he had wanted for you, everything he had sacrificed for.

He left you crying that day, heartbroken, and without a proper goodbye. He's sure you hate him. He's sure you don't want to think about him ever again.

But then you look up. Your bright and happy eyes meet Joel's sorrowful ones, and your gazes lock. For a heartbeat, the world stands still; the pain of the past swirls between you, breathing life into the connection he had severed so long ago.

But despite the past, you smile at him, an acknowledgment that pierces through the years of silence and heartache.

You smile at him because now you know why he did it. Why he left you and never looked back. He was right, and he was a good man—a great one.

He set you free because he loved you more; you just didn't know it until now.

You have a happy family, a white picket fence, and an adoring husband, all because Joel gifted it to you. All because he was strong enough to break your heart.

So you smile at him across the street, the man you once loved more than anything in the world. Somewhere deep down, you probably always will.

Thank you, your eyes seemed to say. I understand now.

He smiles back, a bittersweet gesture filled with love, longing, and resolution.

He knows he shoudln’t linger, so with one last nod, Joel turns away and walks into the hardware store, leaving you behind for good, leaving you to live the life he wished for you. A life without him.

As Joel steps away, the ache that settled deep into his bones years ago seems to lighten just a fraction because today is proof that he had made the right decision. He loved you more than himself. He loved you more than you had ever known.

He loved you enough to let you go. And even if he has to spend the rest of his years missing you, at least he knows you're happy.

[jaeminify]

synopsis ☆ jaemin tries his very best to make sure you're included in every one of his plans, even if it means travelling for a day and spending most of your evening in the hotel. jaemin, however, makes it up to you and makes sure you know how much he adores you.

inspired by the live mark and jaemin had. thank you leo boys <3 not much plot and there might be some details that don't add up, but it's just porn without a plot. suggestive at most! jaemin is a bit of an exhibitionist... horny af too

"Yeah. Yeah, no I know... No, I didn't say that."

Jaemin is on the phone when you slide in the key to your shared hotel room and he isn't alone. To his left he has his close friend, Mark Lee, a mutual friend of yours through Jeno Lee, who was your close friend and a sibling to Lee Donghyuck.

You were sure the two of them had just finished up discussing plans regarding the new business they were planning to open the following month and had taken up quite the time of your evening (that was meant to be shared with you). Mark seems to get the idea. He doesn't have to be told twice to know when to get out of a couple's room, simply because his girlfriend had been the one to remind him to leave the second they were done talking about business.

Well, Jiyeon wasn't exactly Mark's girlfriend anymore. As of last week she had been upgraded to fiance with an engagement ring that blinded anyone that glanced at it. You helped Mark pick it out because you were her best friend, you were happy to see the happy could thriving.

Mark sends you a small wave when you slip on the room slippers and walk into the living room.

Jaemin never travelled anywhere without booking the best of places for you. Had he travelled alone he would get a room facing the building opposite, but with you, he called the hotel owner personally to make sure he had the view of the city. He was ready to book the penthouse suite but settled with the honeymoon suite when you caught him looking at the website. You weren't sure what he was booking them for— you assumed it was an early anniversary gift for his parents, so you chimed in and pointed out the view from the honeymoon suite was just as beautiful as the penthouse, so Jaemin didn't think twice when he confirmed his reservation.

You were surprised that he wanted you with him during his conference, but you were relieved when he told you that you didn't need to attend any major events.

You enjoyed being Jaemin's plus one, and you knew that Jaemin loved being yours. It made any events you attended a lot more enjoyable, but if your presence wasn't necessary, or if a plus one wasn't really required, both you and Jaemin knew when to take a step back to let the other shine.

Jaemin owned multiple businesses that his father passed down to him whereas you held multiple shares and owned three different buildings that your mother was considerate enough to give willingly, considering she refused to let your elder sister chip in when she wanted the buildings you, now, owned.

"Did you guys just finish up?" You whisper softly to not interrupt Jaemin's call. Your boyfriend had his back to you and Mark, standing out at the balcony while trying to keep his voice levelled.

Mark nodded, "Barely. He's on the phone with Jung now," Mark made a face. "I think he's still trying to convince Jaemin to endorse his company."

You scoff at the information Mark tells you, "Jaehyun had his chance six months ago to come up with a plan but he fell flat on his ass when he stole the copies from Suh & Co." You shake your head, "The nerve he has."

"You're telling me," Mark runs a hand over his face. "I think Jaemin and I can continue this tomorrow with the law firm. It's getting late and I don't want to take up your time too."

"Thanks, Mark." You smile at Jaemin's friend and give him a polite hug, wishing him goodnight as you shut the door behind you after Mark leaves.

"...That's not going to happen." You catch bits of Jaemin's words as he speaks to Jaehyun on the phone, trying to not get irritated on behalf of your boyfriend at the pile of stress Jaehyun's adding.

You decide to comfort Jaemin with a small hug, if you could even call it that. You simply hook your arms onto his shoulders the kiss the back of his neck. As you slide your hands down from his shoulder you feel rather than see, that he has his shirt unbuttoned. You move to step away from Jaemin but your boyfriend is swift when he catches your hands with his free one and laces his fingers with yours.

He turns around so he's facing you then pulls you in closer to wrap an arm around you. While eh talks to the person on the phone, he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead as if to say hello, i'm glad you're back.

That was the beauty of being with Jaemin. Even if he was busy, even if he was caught up in something he would never let you go unnoticed. Or rather, he'd never make you feel as though you had to beg for his time or for any effort, because he did it as if it was as easy as breathing. Adoring you, loving you and cherishing you was something Jaemin mastered in.

You cling onto Jaemin, wrapping your arms around his middle and looking up at him with your beautiful doe eyes that makes Jaemin smile even if his words are ugly as he speaks to Jaehyun. He holds his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he uses both hands to cup your cheek.

"You're so beautiful," He mouths to you as his thumb grazes your cheek.

Before you can even respond, Jaemin's right hand is quick to grab his phone then you hear, "Listen, Jung, I could stand here all night and pretend that I'm thinking about giving you another shot, but I'm not. So, thank you for trying. I hope Donghyuck is a lot more understanding than I am."

Jaemin hangs up and places his phone on the table behind you on the balcony. There's a lovely breakfast table for you both to sit on, but it was nearing midnight and all you could see was concrete jungles of buildings and the sound of heavy traffic increasing as the night was young.

You smile when Jaemin wraps you in a hug and nuzzles his face against your skin.

"Missed you so much baby," He whispered, when he pulls away, his hands slide to your waist. "Where'd you go?"

You stretched your arms and grinned, happy to share all the details of your night with your lover.

"I managed to get the last slot for a good massage then hopped into the sauna before coming back to the room."

"God, a massage sounds so good right now."

"You're not getting it from me," You laugh when Jaemin pokes your sides, you can feel the grin on his face.

"I'm thinking about something else that's a lot better than massages, baby."

"It hasn't been that long since the last time we had sex, Jaemin." You whisper against his lips, knowing that the harder you try to resist Jaemin's advances, the easier it'll be for him to make you crack.

You feel your knees weaken when his hands start to caress your lower back, teasing touches that feel so light you aren't sure are even there, but the rough pads of his fingertips that slide under your skirt is enough to confirm that his touch, is very real. Jaemin isn't the type to rush in to anything he does. He's witty and tactful. He acts when he knows there'll be a reaction, and with you, he knows every little thing that makes you tick, moan, and scream.

"Hasn't it?" Jaemin's breath is hot against your lips as he teases you. Leaning in with his head tilted as though he was ready to engulf your lips with his, before pulling away to trace your cheekbone with the bridge of his nose. "You're just so irresistible, doll."

Jaemin's hands are now completely under your skirt, lifting it up to expose your laced underwear, not caring if the two of you were standing on the balcony with opposite buildings standing parallel to the hotel. He didn't care who saw you two. All that was in his mind was your pretty face and the way your skin felt against his.

"Did Mark leave?"

You nod breathlessly, subconsciously gripping the front of his shirt to pull him closer when you feel him knead your skin. Jaemin pouts, confusing you for a second until a flush of arousal returns at his next words.

"Shame," He tutted, "Could've let him watched how good of a girl you are for me."

You almost moan at his words, nearly collapsing to your knees to suck his aching cock. You feel it throbbing against your thigh. Jaemin was just as turned on as you were but did his best to now show it.

"But," He starts again, "I don't like the thought of sharing you with anyone, pretty girl." Jaemin smiles, you aren't sure what he's thinking but he seems satisfied. "You're mine, right? Aren't you angel?"

"Yours. . ." you breathe out, clinging onto his skin now, latching your lips to his neck as you desperately beg for more. Jaemin hums in satisfaction when he feels you suck his neck. He loves to mark you up but it feels more fulfilling when he wakes up to the scratches you left on his muscled back, and the marks you leave on his neck. "Only yours."

"That's fucking right." He growls, leaving a hand on your waist while the other reaches up to cup your jaw, leading you up to his lips.

He pulls away without any warning but slips his hand into yours to let you know he isn't going anywhere far. He knows how needy you get, especially when you're riled up, the last thing he'd want is to upset his baby or make you think he was going to leave you high and dry. You can't think straight so you watch Jaemin with heavy eyes, admiring the way his physique looks under his dress shirt.

You hear him slide the door leading back into your room shut, before another click. He's locked you both outside.

Before you can say anything, Jaemin sits himself on the chair by the breakfast table and guides you to straddle his lap. There's a slight wind that brushes against you two, but Jaemin doesn't seem to care when he cups your face to let you rest your forehead against his.

"I'm gonna fuck you on this table until we're both satisfied, that sound okay, angel?"

If you weren't riled up before, you definitely were now. Jaemin smiles at your eager nod, enjoying the way your hands work your way to unbutton his shirt while he plays with your tits over your shirt. It's his, but he likes you in his clothes. His cock rises even more at the thought of him getting to fuck you in his clothes.

"That's a good girl," He cooed when you slip his shirt off his shoulders, revealing his buff shoulders and toned body. He'd been working out recently, mostly to keep his mind occupied from work, but it's paying off because you get to ogle him and he likes being the centre of your attention.

Jaemin flexes his pecks and rests his hands on your hips to guide them. He feels you start to grind your pussy onto his cock over his jeans and he bites back a moan. "Naughty baby, so eager to have my cock inside you aren't you?"

He kisses your cheeks, nose and eyes then neck.

"Taste so good, I'm gonna be taking my time with you doll."

And he does. The whole, damn, night.

[hockybish]

So I saw Nico (Hischier) wasn’t on your list but I was wondering if you’d consider writing for him? If so could you write something for this prompt: "Did I stutter?"

Thanks!

Yes, I do write for him. I was on mobile trying to update the list and it wasn't looking right at the time, but he's on there now! :)

This is based on a scene from a movie

Enjoy!

It was a typical night out for the guys. They were trying some new place Jack had recommented that had a really good live in house band.

"I bet I could walk out of here with any girl I wanted" Dawson hiccupped into his beer glass.

"If they can understand you" Nico couldn't contain his laughter.

"Oh yeah pretty boy? I bet you couldn't get a girl to sleep with you in less than a minute"

"Hundred buck says I can." Nico added money to the bet. Dawson agreed and they shook on it. He was up for the challenge. He scanned the bar for a pretty girl that would go for him in less a minute.

"Oooo. Can I pick her. Because this had to be challenge and she has to hot and maybe a little out of your league." Jack asked loudly. Nico didn't care, it would be more of a challenge that way.

Jack analyzed all the pretty ladies in the joint. Before landing on one the perfect one. You.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing sitting all alone at the bar? Can I buy you another one of those or something else?" Nico stood behind the pretty girl Jack had challenged him to hook up with.

"No thank you I'm good." You gave him your answer without a hesitation or second thought. You hadn't even looked at him at this point.

"But you don't know what you're missing. I'ma catch." Nico nervously smiled. He didn't think she'd say no.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing sitting all alone at the bar? Can I buy you another one of those or something else?" Nico stood behind the pretty girl Jack had challenged him to hook up with.

"No thank you I'm good." You gave him your answer without a hesitation or second thought. You hadn't even looked at him at this point.

"But you don't know what you're missing. I'ma catch." Nico nervously smiled. He didn't think she'd say no. He didn't know what to do, this was uncharted territory.

"Really? That's what you want to go with? You haven't got anything better?" You finally look at the man and immediately recognized him as New Jersey Devil Captain Nico Hischier.

You quickly looked around to see his other hockey friends watching the two of you very intently. You sigh knowing exactly what this interaction is.

"The way I see it you have two options, I walk out of here and you go back to your little friends with your tail between your legs or we can walk out of here together and we split the money." If he was going to drag you into a bet, you were definitely going to get something out of it. This wasn't going as planned. In fact in was going into uncharted territory

"Did I stutter?" You batted your eyes at the hockey player. Nico stared at you with this mouth wide open, you could literally see the wheels turning in minds. He couldn't function properly.

"How much time do you have left?" The ice in hit your lips as you take a sip from your drink.

"Um ah" Nico quickly looked at his phone. "Like 24 seconds."

"That's not much you know." You start chugging the contents of the glass. You were leaving this bar as soon as time was up whether the cute man came with or not.

"Well?" You stand getting ready to walk away.

Nico pointed his head towards the door, indicating that he wanted to leave. Playing into it you grab ahold of his hand, leading him to the door where your car was waiting for you. You immediately drop his hand once you get there.

"You know that bar Jay's? Its close to arena. Friday night after the game I'll be there. Bring my money." Using the keys you unlock the vehicle.

"You knew who I was this whole time?"

"Of course, I'm not stupid, you're Nico Hischier, captain of your New Jersey Devils." You say in your best annoucer voice.

"And you are?"

"Not important"

"Then how am I going to know it's you?"

"Oh, you'll know" You give him a little wink climbing into your blue car and locking the door as fast as you can so Nico couldn't get in after you. Nico was hot but you weren't really in the mood. Maybe another time.

"I didn't drive here" He tugged on the handle when he couldn't open it.

"Okay and?" You shrug, that wasn't your problem that he came unprepared for being rejected at the last second.

"You do realize I can't go back in there right?"

"That sounds like a you problem" You start to drive off, but suddenly stop and roll down your window. "Friday after the game, don't forget my money!"

"Damn" The captain whispered to himself. He was falling for her already.

"Really? That's what you want to go with? You haven't got anything better?" You finally look at the man and immediately recognized him as New Jersey Devil Captain Nico Hischier.

You quickly looked around to see his other hockey friends watching the two of you very intently. You sigh knowing exactly what this interaction is.

"The way I see it you have two options, I walk out of here and you go back to your little friends with your tail between your legs or we can walk out of here together and we split the money." If he was going to drag you into a bet, you were definitely going to get something out of it. This wasn't going as planned. In fact in was going into uncharted territory

"Did I stutter?" You batted your eyes at the hockey player. Nico stared at you with this mouth wide open, you could literally see the wheels turning in minds. He couldn't function properly.

"How much time do you have left?" The ice in hit your lips as you take a sip from your drink.

"Um ah" Nico quickly looked at his phone. "Like 24 seconds."

"That's not much you know." You start chugging the contents of the glass. You were leaving this bar as soon as time was up whether the cute man came with or not.

"Well?" You stand getting ready to walk away.

Nico pointed his head towards the door, indicating that he wanted to leave. Playing into it you grab ahold of his hand, leading him to the door where your car was waiting for you. You immediately drop his hand once you get there.

"You know that bar Jay's? Its close to arena. Friday night after the game I'll be there. Bring my money." Using the keys you unlock the vehicle.

"You knew who I was this whole time?"

"Of course, I'm not stupid, you're Nico Hischier, captain of your New Jersey Devils." You say in your best annoucer voice.

"And you are?"

"Not important"

"Then how am I going to know it's you?"

"Oh, you'll know" You give him a little wink climbing into your blue car and locking the door as fast as you can so Nico couldn't get in after you. Nico was hot but you weren't really in the mood. Maybe another time.

"I didn't drive here" He tugged on the handle when he couldn't open it.

"Okay and?" You shrug, that wasn't your problem that he came unprepared for being rejected at the last second.

"You do realize I can't go back in there right?"

"That sounds like a you problem" You start to drive off, but suddenly stop and roll down your window. "Friday after the game, don't forget my money!"

"Damn" The captain whispered to himself. He was falling for her already.

Let me know what ya'll think!

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXVIII

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Lucien stayed close to the forest’s edge, the treeline thick and providing him with some much needed cover from the guests milling about the open space. The sun had already set, the last rays slipping past the horizon without his notice. There were countless lit lanterns hanging from sturdy branches and tiny fireflies floating and glimmering in the dark. The moon was hidden behind the dense canopy of leaves, but its glow could still be seen reflecting on the stone path leading towards the temple.  

Lucien had always thought it was fitting for the Autumn court’s oldest temple to be nestled deep in the middle of the woods, near enough to the Forest House and the capital city to make its location ideal. It had been built out of wide trunks, carvings sharing the story of the Cauldron and the Mother in excellent condition on the ancient panels. 

The wood was so pale it resembled bone, the red leaves along the steps like drops of blood, disarming. Lucien could see the expression of wonder and uncertainty on the faces of each guest that approached, how they paused, hand hovering for a moment before at last holding onto the railing, knuckles white. 

There were representatives from most of Prythian’s courts present for the reception, all of them dressed in colours traditionally associated with Autumn. Lucien still thought they seemed out of place amongst the aristocrats of his childhood home. He frowned when he was unable to see any of his brothers in the crowd, his golden eye whirring as he searched for the members of his family. 

Lucien absently tugged at his shirt through the sleeve of his velvet jacket, thinking about his father and the brief interaction they had shared just before he had left his chambers. Elain had already left with Cora, laughing as she had kissed him, ordering him to stay away from the dressing room. Eris had stopped to check on him for a moment, but Lucien had been getting ready himself when the High Lord had knocked on the door. 

Lucien had sensed the powerful magic, and had known who it was immediately, even before he had heard his name. He had faced his father, the laces of his sleeves still undone, hanging limply at his sides. 

Beron had gestured with his hand, closing the space between them. Lucien had successfully avoided flinching as he had offered his arm, but his father had been surprisingly gentle, slowly tying the laces with practised fingers. 

“Of all my children,” he had started, voice soft, “I did not think you would be the one to marry first.” 

Lucien had hummed, otherwise remaining quiet. His golden eye had clicked into place as he had stared at the faint scar cutting across the High Lord’s cheekbone. He had always wanted to know the story of how he had gotten the permanent mark, but even in his youth, it had never felt like the right time to ask. Lucien had bitten down on his tongue as he switched to the other hand, letting his father do those laces as well.

Beron had elegantly tied two bows, each cross of the string identical to the one before, perfect. “Always interesting to see what the future holds,” he had finished, leaving the room and saying nothing more, boots echoing as he had walked into the corridor. 

Lucien kept considering the exchange, each action repeating in his mind. He was still lost in thought when he felt a broad hand falling onto his shoulder, making his teeth knock against each other painfully. He turned sharply, cursing himself for not paying attention to his surroundings, but he relaxed when a familiar pair of bright green eyes looked at him apologetically. 

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” Tamlin had dressed for the occasion, looking every bit the High Lord in a jacket made of the finest emerald material. There was golden thread stitched in the shape of oak leaves detailing his collar and cuffs. 

Lucien ran a hand through his hair, careful not to tangle any strands. “I thought you were Ronan.”

Tamlin scrunched his nose in distaste, the dusting of freckles along the strong bridge shifting upwards. It was an expression Lucien had always thought made him look a little lupine. “You’ve been alright?” The tone he used was one of concern.

Lucien frowned as he fully faced his oldest friend, the familiar mix of emotions in his chest rising upwards, making him a bit uncomfortable. “You could have checked in before showing up on my wedding day.” 

Tamlin raised a brow of burnished gold. “I don’t know why I expected Eris to tell you I’d gotten right to the doors of the Forest House before he sent me home, swearing to me you were engaged and just fine.”

“You definitely should have known better,” Lucien could not help but breathe a soft laugh, the old rhythms of their friendship falling into place.

“So I guess he hadn’t lied about that,” Tamlin said as he gestured around them with an arm. 

“And you came?” Lucien wondered if Beron had sent invitations to Vassa and Jurian, hoping that they would have the good sense to stay away if that were the case. 

Tamlin shrugged, his broad shoulders rising. “I wasn’t going to miss your wedding.” There was an emotion in his voice, one that Lucien could not entirely place, but he figured it seemed oddly like a shadow of regret. 

“Feyre’s going to be here.” The statement hung between them, her name hardly ever being uttered in his presence. 

Tamlin winced. “I’m sure seeing her will never be less awkward.” He glanced around them, clearly not wanting to discuss her further. His eyes danced over the assembled crowd, searching. “Where’s the bride?” 

Lucien smiled, patting Tamlin on the back. “Human tradition, it's apparently bad luck to see her before I’m at the altar.” 

Tamlin hummed, obviously not familiar with the custom. “You’re going to have to tell me what happened between you and your mate in such a short amount of time.” 

“Long story,” Lucien answered, acknowledging that he would not mind sharing the tale with Tamlin. “I’ll come for dinner in Spring one of these days and tell you everything.” 

Tamlin flashed a smile in his direction, sharp canines bright in the glow of the moon’s light. “I’ll bring out the good barrels of wine, you can complain about your brothers, too.” 

“Thanks for coming, Tam.” While things had been better between them for years, they were still not as they once were. Sometimes Lucien missed how close they used to be, and looked back fondly at the decades he had spent in the manor, but he could admit that it was perhaps best to leave the past where it was. 

Tamlin flushed a deep scarlet, clearing his throat as he spoke. “I wasn’t going to miss your wedding,” he repeated, looking away from Lucien just as the Night Court made an appearance at the opposite end of the large and cleared space of the woods. 

Although Tamlin looked entirely unbothered by the Inner Circle’s arrival, he squeezed Lucien’s shoulder, moving away from their hiding spot. “I’ll see you inside,” he said, smiling briefly before he steadily made his way towards the temple. Each patch of grass he stepped on seemed a bit more alive, the green a little brighter. 

As Lucien watched Tamlin’s departing back, Cora winnowed into the spot he had just left. She was close enough to Lucien that the dark brown fabric of her skirts touched his boots, golden beads fading up towards her bodice in a way that made her waist appear smaller than it actually was. 

“Elain is ready, so once your father joins, we can start,” she announced. 

“You look lovely, Cora,” Lucien offered as he started walking towards the small group from the Night Court. The dark coal around her eyes gave her an air of mystery, but she fit in quite well with the mingling courtiers now that she was dressed like a lady. 

The answering smile Cora cast in his direction was one that suggested she was well aware of her beauty. “You don’t look too bad, either.” 

Lucien shook his head, amused, as he chuckled. Feyre heard the sound first, breaking into a wide grin as she spotted them approaching. She dropped Rhysand’s hand, throwing herself into his arms for a hug, her words the buzz of a bee’s wings as she asked him a flurry of questions. 

Lucien answered each one patiently, still paying careful attention to the reactions of the assembled guests to ensure his father had not yet arrived. 

Azriel and Morrigan were nowhere to be seen, but Lucien would not have been surprised if the shadowsinger was lingering in the woods somewhere to keep watch. Cassian stayed close to Nesta, his hand resting protectively on her lower back. She glared at Lucien when she caught him looking, but said nothing biting. “This court makes me uneasy,” she declared, her voice cold as ice. 

Lucien furrowed his brows.

“Why?” Cora asked curiously when no one else did. 

Nesta turned silver eyes on her, the glare of the lanterns making it seem like there were dancing flames in her gaze. “It feels like death.” Cassian ran a comforting hand along his mate’s back, but no one seemed concerned other than Cora. 

Feyre rolled her eyes, gripping Lucien’s arm. “It’s much prettier than I was expecting.”   

Lucien would have asked the High Lady if she had been expecting him and Elain to be married in the dungeons, but he gently took his hand away from her. He excused himself from the chatting group when he saw his mother and Callum winnow right where the sharp edge of the trees began, Felix walking with purpose towards them. 

Lucien approached them warrily, hearing as Felix asked their mother a question. “Where’s Eris?” He said it sharply, enough so that the Lady of Autumn frowned at him disapprovingly. 

“You better not start a fight,” Callum warned, mirroring their mother’s expression. 

While Felix did not apologise, he did clarify. “I need to speak with him,” he said, his face pulled into a scowl. 

“He’s with Elain,” Lucien interjected, meeting his brother’s glare. Flames danced in the deep russet of Felix’s eyes, nearly a perfect match to his own. 

“It can’t wait?” Callum asked, not unkindly. 

Felix curled his hands into fists, but before they could argue further, the Lady of Autumn stepped in between them. “I’ll help you find him,” she offered. All the fight drained from him as he nodded, turning on his heel as walked towards the far end of the temple.  

There was a moment of silence as Lucien waited for them to be out of hearing distance, raising an eyebrow in question as he faced his older brother.  

Callum did not seem to have an answer, but his expression softened. He had always been the kindest of the Vanserra, and when he reached up with a gentle hand, Lucien had thought for a moment that he was going to brush back his hair. A memory flashed in his mind’s eye, but Callum simply removed a leaf from where it had fallen onto his shoulder. “Ready?” 

Lucien nodded, taking a deep breath as he made his way into the temple and towards the altar, waiting once more for Elain.

[r0se-miller]

Giving up control

Emily needs to give up control after a hard day at work, JJ is there to help her wife.

Warnings: smut, strap-ons, bath sex, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff

It was just after lunch when JJ glanced into her wife's office and saw the sign. Emily had been in meetings all morning and had just returned to the BAU, she went straight to her office, shut the door and threw herself into her chair. After ten minutes JJ noticed that the brunette had still not moved to start any paperwork, but she had switched the small orchid plant to the far side of her desk. The blonde knew what this meant, the couple had set up a series of subtle clues to let the other know what they needed, without having to actually talk or alert their coworkers. Emily relocating her plant meant she had reached the threshold for mental function for the day, she needed JJ to take charge of things.

Upon recognizing the sign the blonde leapt into action, going first to the kitchenette to grab a fresh cup of coffee, she made her way to the chiefs office. "Rough meetings my love?" she asked after closing the door behind her and setting the mug of coffee on Emily's desk.

"God I hate politics! I wish I could just leave for the day, I honestly don't know how much more I have left Jen." Emily said whilst offering a small smile for the coffee she gratefully sipped.

JJ came around the desk, standing beside her wife's chair she quickly flipped through the stacks of folders setting them into two piles. "Okay just work on these ones until five." she said sliding one pile to the center of the desk whilst moving the other to the side. "We are not on rotation for another few days so it won't be the end of the world if you do the rest tomorrow. Now, have you eaten today? You had one bite of my toast this morning, is that all you've had?"

"Umm, yeah I think so." Emily mumbled whilst sitting forward to open the first folder.

"Okay well I will go and get you lunch, how about you give Henry a call, he should also be on his lunch break about now, he can tell you all about is chess competition this morning." The blonde moved out of the office, taking the already empty mug back with her.

After going out to get Emily's favorite lunch from the cafe and pouring yet another coffee for her wife, JJ returned to check on things.

"Oh my god, you are an angel Jen. Thank you!" The brunette immediately dived into the sandwich with hungry fervor. "I talked to Henry, he did really well in his chess thing, he didn't make it all the way to the top but he was mostly up against seniors. Anyway he couldn't talk for long because he had to get to class but it was really good to hear his voice. Thanks for suggesting it." Emily had settled into the chair and some light was returning to her eyes after the mornings ordeals.

"That is good my love, I have to go back to my desk and finish up my own paperwork, but be ready to go at five I'll come pick you up okay?" JJ said in a carefully commanding voice only she could achieve after years of media liaising.

At exactly five o'clock JJ reentered Emily's office and found her packing away her things and slipping into her coat. "Good girl, I thought I might have to wrangle you away from doing more" the blonde praised.

"No I couldn't even if I wanted to." Emily said resignedly.

The persistent melancholy worried JJ, but she knew a night of pampering would help pick her wife up. The two made their way out of the offices, and JJ secured her wife in the passenger seat before rounding the car to get in at the drivers side. Before long they were merging onto the highway meeting the swarms of traffic headed home for the night.

"Uh, Jen you are going the wrong way, the kids school is the first exit." stated Emily whilst throwing a look over her shoulder at the missed turn.

"Oh didn't I mention? Pen is babysitting all the kids tonight. She was happy to do it and they needed some time with their Aunt anyway, lord knows they have enough of their stuff at her house." JJ answered whilst reaching out to take the brunettes hand and kissing it lightly on the knuckles.

After pulling up at their house JJ once again rounded the car to help her wife. "Okay my love, you go get in the bath I will come and bring you up some wine in a minute." She kissed Emily firmly and sent her on her way up the stairs.

She took out her phone and called one of the numbers that was scrawled into the address book Emily kept by the phone.

"Hello, this is Marcel's you are speaking with Adrian, how may I help you today?" came the cheerful greeting.

"Hello Adrian, can you please tell Mr Wiedmaier that Jennifer Prentiss is calling."

"Certainly Ma'am one moment." The man knew this name was on the list to field calls straight to the head chef.

"Jennifer darling how are you?"

"Robert! I am doing well, listen I know you are busy tonight, but Emily has had a rough day at work and I wanted to get her favorite for dinner, do you think I could send someone to pick up some of your delicious lamb for her tonight?"

"Occh I shall make her the full courses! Do not worry I shall send one of my boys out to your house with it. You tell my girl to feel better." He handed the phone back to the man who took their address then promised the food would be there within the hour.

Once the food was settled JJ poured a glass of wine and headed up to the ensuite. She paused in their room to slip out of work clothes and into the tank top that made Emily wild and some soft lounge pants.

Emily was laid back in the tub with soft jazz playing from her phone on the sink, several candles in the room gave a comforting atmosphere. The blonde settled herself on the tile next to the bath and handed her wife the wine. "How are you feeling my love?"

"My body feels better but my mind is still as busy as ever."

"I'm sorry honey" JJ rested her hand on one bubble clad knee, before dropping her hand fully into the nearly too hot water. She drew soft swirls on the surface watching the steam rise into the cool air. She carefully slipped her ring off her middle finger, and using a slight of hand Spencer had taught her, she passed it to her left whilst bringing her hand back out of the water. "Oh no! My ring must of slipped off!" she said with convincing sincerity.

Emily quickly shifted more upright to peer into the water, but the bubbles made it impossible to see anything. "You might have to feel for it Jen" she said completely oblivious to her wife's deception.

"Good plan" JJ replied smirking to herself. She once again returned her hand to the water, reaching all the way down to the smooth ceramic at the bottom. She traced her hand along her wife's legs, still feigning the search. "Hmmm I can't seem to find it." she said innocently after several more pointed caresses.

"I would think not, searching like that." Emily said with one eyebrow raised.

"would you like me to stop?"

"Don't you dare." Emily growled leaning over to take the blondes lips in a passionate kiss.

JJ continued her ministrations working her way up to the brunettes core. As she let her thumb caress the slick folds, her wife drew a sharp breath before moaning at the feeling. She continued to work the brunette, making sure to keep to the outside for as long as possible. She massaged Emily's clit whilst using one finger to trace teasingly around her opening.

"Please Jen, more please." Emily begged. JJ immediately obliged and thrust in two fingers starting a slow and steady rhythm to match her earlier patterns. It didn't take long for the brunette to throw her head back and push her hips up, seeking more pressure from her lover. The blonde picked up the pace and curved her fingers to drag against her G-spot with every thrust. Emily came with a loud moan, slumping back into the water with her eyes still firmly closed.

"How's your mind now my love?" JJ asked whilst slipping her ring back onto her finger.

"So very quiet." Emily replied contentedly. The two sat together listening to the jazz for a few minutes more.

"Alright lets get you out before this water gets too cold." JJ stood offering her hand to her wife before wrapping her in a big fluffy towel.

The two made their way into the bedroom, JJ sat Emily on the bed and went to get her some clothes. She brought back on of her old university shirts and her own new sweatpants. She knew when her wife was sad she liked to wear JJ's clothes, and she had been eyeing her new sweats for weeks whilst making pointed comments about how old hers were getting.

"You are letting me wear them!" Emily asked as she saw what her wife had returned with.

"Anything for you baby" JJ replied kissing her wife before turning to fetch a cozy pair of slippers.

Once dressed they made their way downstairs, settling on the couch to watch reality TV. JJ had poured them both a glass of red before getting comfortable with her wife.

"We could just order chinese, its a bit late to start cooking I think" Emily stated after their program ended.

"Don't worry I have something better in mind. In fact it should be here any minute." JJ replied. True to her word five minutes later the doorbell rang and the blonde hopped up, grabbed her wallet from her coat pocket and opened the door. She tipped the boy generously and instructed him to give her thanks to the whole kitchen. She came back to the lounge room and set the various containers down on the coffee table.

"Oh my god! is that Marcel's?" Emily squealed after seeing the various dishes and the intoxicating scents coming from each.

"Yep! I asked him to send us your favorites, he says he hopes you feel better." JJ called from the kitchen where she was grabbing utensils, napkins and more wine. When she re-entered the living room she was wrapped in a massive hug from her wife before being kissed soundly.

"I don't deserve you Jennifer Prentiss." Emily said once they had both settled onto the floor by the coffee table.

"Hey we look out for each other my love." JJ replied with a soft peck.

After eating every last morsel of the three courses and dessert, the two sat back on the couch slightly stuffed and very happy. JJ shifted so she could play with Emily's hair as they watched the next episode. After nearly an hour of quiet watching Emily spoke up "Jennifer baby, I love when you take care of me. And this has been amazing and I do feel better, but I-" she paused not really sure how to continue.

"What do you need my love?"

"I need you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me until I cant even think anymore, bacause I don't think I am going to be able to sleep toight otherwise. Is that okay?" she asked very quickly and quietly.

"Of course it is my love, you know I would do anything for you." JJ said, she shifted to get up and held out her hand for her wife. Once the brunettes hand was in hers she led them upstairs to the bedroom. "Strip and get on the bed." She demanded calmly, slipping into the dom role Emily needed from her for the night. Seeing her instructions were being followed she turned into the closet and pulled down their box of toys from the top shelf. She quickly picked out all the things she would need, then stripped down and changed into a sheer black lingerie set. She fastened a black harness over her thighs, gathered all her supplies and headed back into the bedroom.

Emily gasped at the sight of her wife, the black lingerie a stark contrast to her usual baby blues and whites. She had to admit it looked damn hot though.

JJ dumped everything onto the settee at he foot of the bed, plucked up the silk ties and climbed onto the mattress by her wife's head. The couple had taken to using silk ties early in their relationship, after a particularly rough night with real handcuffs had led to some awkward questions from their coworkers. The blonde grabbed Emily's hands and tied them to each other at the wrists, threading the silk through one of the slats in the headboard to secure the whole thing. She carefully tested the hold, making sure there was enough give in the knots to not cut off circulation. She then took the last silk and held it out before meeting her wife's eyes. "I want to blindfold you tonight okay?" At Emily's enthusiastic reply she proceeded to fasten the silk across her eyes. "I also want you to not speak tonight, so you can focus on your other senses. Do you remember our nonverbal safe que?" She asked. Emily tapped three times on the headboard showing she remembered. "Good girl."

After re-checking the blindfold and silk cuffs JJ jumped off the bed and looked at her wife. Emily lay fully stretched out and naked on the bed the silks were firey red against her pale skin and made the whole scene more sensual. The blonde came up with a plan for the evening and returned to kneel next to her wife on the matress.

JJ leant over carefully allowing her hair to spill forward onto her wife's bare torso, the blonde began moving her head along the length of Emily's body, dragging her hair over every inch of exposed skin. After several full body passes and increasingly sensuous moans from the brunette JJ flipped her hair back over her shoulder and began tracing the path again, this time with delicate finger tips. She carefully avoided her wife's core and her taut nipples, but began whispering a string of praises for her wife as she worked.

Soon Emily's body erupted in goosebumps at the sensations, with that the blonde couldn't wait any longer for more contact. She swung her leg up and straddled her wife's lower thighs, allowing her to bend forward and kiss the brunettes ample chest.

JJ traced wet open mouthed kisses around the edge of each breast, nipping lightly as she reached the delicate underside. She drew her tongue through the valley between the breasts, then finally turned her attention to the rosy nipples. she took one into her mouth, suckling gently, as she twirled, pulled and pinched the other. Emily moaned her approval at every stage and thrust her chest up into her wife's mouth. After working her wife up into a ragged breathed frenzy she let go of the nipple with a soft pop and sat up before swinging off the bed completely. Emily whined at the loss of contact, making JJ smirk. The blonde quickly secured the dildo she had chosen on to the harness she was wearing. She also brought the small bullet vibrator with her as she climbed back onto the mattress. She threw the vibe onto the far side of the bed before laying herself fully on top of her wife, allowing the dick to lay between them. She kissed Emily deeply tugging on her lips and dominating the brunette with her tongue, she reached down between them carefully and slid her fingers through her wife's dripping folds. Her earlier work and sensuous teasing had served to get her wife well and truly wet, but she wanted to stretch her a little before using the large dildo she had chosen. She quickly pushed in two fingers and began firmly thrusting, scissoring her digits and pushing against the brunettes walls to prepare her. when she felt Emily start clamping down on her fingers she pulled out completely. Sitting back she repositioned herself between the brunettes thighs, grasping Emily's knees and pushing them up to fold onto her chest. this position gave her total control and access. She quickly aligned herself and thrust halfway in, allowing a second for readjustment then pushing in the rest of her length. The brunette bucked after a moment signaling she was ready for more. JJ wasted no time, whipping out and slamming back in. She set a fast pace, grateful for every ab workout she had ever done, allowing her to keep up the strong deep thrusts. Before long Emily had devolved into mewling moans with each thrust, her skin was violently flushed and her breath was coming fast and deep. The blonde knew her wife was close, she removed her hands from her lovers hips and used one to start massaging her clit, whilst the other came to apply pressure to the small stretch of skin below the brunettes taut opening. At the last touch of pressure Emily came with a moaning scream, JJ continued to thrust, slowly downgrading until Emily tapped out at the head board.

"Good girl, you did so well. you look so beautiful when you come baby." JJ continued to praise her wife as she removed her blindfold then unclipped the dildo and removed the harness from her own thighs. She made sure to always keep skin contact with the brunette knowing she would need it. After freeing herself fully she shifted to lay half next to- half on her wife. She reached for the vibrator, switched it on and placed it on her wife's clit, knowing she would still be incredibly sensitive. The blonde nuzzled into Emily's neck kissing and sucking on her delicate skin, careful to only leave marks where they could be easily covered at work. The brunette started bucking into the vibrator, despite the earlier overstimulation. JJ responded in kind, turning the vibe to the highest setting and running tight circles around the hard nub. She then took Emily's lips in her own and kissed her passionately. When they both needed air JJ lent their foreheads together and stared into her wife's dark eyes. "I love you so much baby, can you come for me?" Emily came immediately whimpering and pushing the blondes hand away from her core. JJ turned of the vibrator and pulled her wife close, untying each wrist she kissed it, checking for any marks or bruising. Happy to find none she settled her wife's head on her chest and kissed her hair whilst continuing her litany of praises from earlier.

Emily was asleep within minutes, and JJ carefully slid out from under her wife. She threw on a robe and padded downstairs to pack away all their mess from dinner, turn off the TV and set the coffee machine for the morning. Returning to the bedroom she quickly washed her face stripped out of the now uncomfortable underwear and went back to cuddle with her wife. They rarely got to sleep nude nowadays, with kids likely to barge in at any moment or need comfort in the night, JJ was reveling at the rare privilege. She also knew the skin contact would further help settle her wife, however, the brunette was already sleeping with a contented look on her face, and was more peaceful than she had seemed in weeks.

[charliedawn]

Hello! Just a small Idea or imagine, feel free to ignore if you wish

Anywho, my imagination was: imagine the nurse, right? But she/he/they have an inhumane soul. Like let's say everyone has certain souls but the nurse had a very old one (maybe has the soul of a fallen angel or something sent to Earth to live normally?) that's gone through years and years of rebirths. But WAIT, There's more. Let's say in their past lives, they've been killed by the slashers before. Maybe penny or pennywise ate them in a past life as they were a child, or Michael had killed them as a bystander. I know Penny and Pennywise would probably find out without help due to them being- well, them. But maybe what if the nurse could tap into the past lives and that's how the rest of the slashers found out? Or whatever you want, I just thought it'd be super cool :]

(It actually made me think about a previous request so I decided to keep the concept.)

The old, dusty photo album lay open, the sepia-toned images flickering with memories of a time long past. As the slashers gathered around, curiosity piqued.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy flipped through the pages of the old photo album, his usual mocking smirk plastered on his face. But as he landed on a particular picture, the smirk faltered, his brow furrowing slightly. His gloved fingers hovered over the photograph of your doppelgänger—a face eerily familiar, one he knew all too well.

"Well, well, well," Freddy muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice low and sinister. "Would ya look at that ?"

He lingered on the image for a moment longer than usual, eyes narrowing. He knew exactly where he’d seen that face before—he’d killed you once. Or rather, killed someone who looked just like you. Memories of a past nightmare flickered in his mind, the thrill of the hunt, the screams, the sweet satisfaction of victory. But now, here you were again, alive, standing beside him, completely unaware of the dark history between you.

Freddy chuckled, a sound that was anything but reassuring. He glanced sideways at you, his tone dripping with teasing malice. "Hey sweetheart, come take a look. Doesn’t this one look an awful lot like you ?"

You moved closer, peering at the picture, oblivious to the tension radiating from Freddy. You smiled lightly, brushing it off. "Yeah, people say that a lot. That’s the founder of St Louis. Charlie Johnson. Guess I’ve got one of those faces."

Freddy's grin returned, but it was strained, like he was trying to keep up his usual bravado. He wasn’t going to tell you the truth—not now. It was too soon, and besides, he wasn’t ready to deal with the implications of it all. He didn’t do remorse—not his style.

Still, something was gnawing at him as he stared at your calm expression. Maybe it was the realization that the person in that photo, the one he had killed, was the reason he was stuck in this place now. The reason he had met the others, the reason behind his strange new life in St. Louis. It wasn’t just a coincidence; it was some twisted cosmic joke, and for once, Freddy wasn’t laughing.

He cleared his throat, shaking off the momentary flicker of guilt—whatever that was. "Yeah, guess you got a face that stands out, huh ?" he said, his voice light but with a trace of something darker beneath.

You tilted your head, noticing how uncharacteristically quiet he was being. Freddy—silent ? That was new. "You okay ?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Freddy snapped back into his usual cocky demeanor, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Pfft, me ? I’m always okay, doll. Just thinkin' how funny life can be, ya know ?"

You chuckled, not fully understanding what he meant, but letting it go. Freddy leaned back, eyes still flicking between you and the photo, that unsettling smile never quite leaving his face. As you walked away, Freddy stared at the photo one last time, his expression hardening. You frowned as you found it weird that Freddy would suddenly fall silent—him who normally couldn’t stop yapping. You looked up and your eyes widened as you saw the expression of Freddy’s face. You had never seem him do that face before. Ever.

"Nursy…I am sorry." He finally said.

Your eyes widened.

Had he just…? You chuckled nervously.

"For what ? What did you do this time, Freddy ?" You joked and he smiled back. Yeah. That would be the talk for another time.

Michael Myers

As Michael studied the photo, he clenched his jaw, clearly deep in thought. You noticed the furrow in his brow, the way his eyes darted between the picture and you. It was almost as if he was trying to decipher a puzzle, each piece leading to a darker understanding.

You must have understood his worry.

You took a step closer, sensing his agitation. "Hey, it’s just a picture. It doesn’t mean anything bad will happen this time, right ?"

This time…

You knew. Maybe you had always known. He quickly pulled out his notebook and scribbled furiously, his handwriting neat but hurried. He turned it toward you, the message clear : What if it is a sign ? What if you are in danger ?

You shook your head, trying to reassure him. "Michael, you worry too much. This was a long time ago, okay ? You changed."

He didn’t smile. Instead, he pointed to the picture again, his finger hovering over your doppelgänger's face. He then wrote down: Look at her. Look at the eyes. There’s something wrong. They are staring at me…They know. You were afraid and I killed you. I killed, Y/N.

You followed his gaze, feeling a chill creep down your spine. "I don’t see it. It’s just a face. It’s not like they’re—"

He interrupted you by flipping the notebook back to the last page, where he had written, People die when they’re connected to me.

The weight of his words sank in, and you felt a pang of sympathy for him. "Michael, I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going to lose me, okay ?"

He sighed, visibly conflicted. He picked up the pencil again, writing slowly this time. Promise ?

You nodded, your heart racing a bit. "I promise. It won’t happen again. You are changed. I have changed. The old Y/N doesn’t exist anymore."

He looked at you, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of relief in his eyes. But, also concern. Michael knew that it was only a matter of time before his bloody impulses would come back and then…And then…

He pulled you into a hug.

No. Not this time…Please. Not this time.

Jason Voorhees

Jason's brow furrowed as he studied the photo, the resemblance was striking and his smile faltered. It was as if the image stirred a long-buried memory, igniting feelings he had tried to suppress. The likeness was a ghost, haunting him with the weight of what he had done. He shook his head, trying to banish the dark thoughts that crept in. He remembered that fateful day—the fear in your eyes as he had pulled you underwater, the struggle for breath as he had mercilessly held you under water until no bubbles could be seen. The guilt clawed at him, a weight he could never fully escape. He stepped closer to you, the intensity of his gaze unwavering.

"Jason ?" you asked softly, searching for the man behind the mask. He remained silent, but in that moment, he resolved to change the narrative of his past. Without warning, he moved towards you, closing the distance with a firm but gentle grip. He enveloped you in an embrace, pulling you against him as if trying to save you—to keep you with him. You could feel the tension in his muscles, but slowly it began to ease as he held you. It was a silent plea, an unspoken promise that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. His breath was steady, yet beneath it lay an undercurrent of fear—fear of losing you, fear of his own past mistake.

"Jason…" you whispered, resting your head against his chest.

He released you slowly, his eyes still fixed on yours, conveying everything he couldn’t say. The flicker of concern remained, a promise that echoed louder than words ever could. Jason would fight fiercely to protect you, even from the shadows of his own history.

Pennywise and Penny

Pennywise cackled, his yellowed teeth gleaming under the dim light as his eyes glinted with twisted amusement. He leaned forward, his gaze never leaving the photo, where your doppelgänger stared back, frozen in time. "Reincarnation is a funny thing, isn’t it ?" His voice was a blend of mockery and intrigue, as though the very idea delighted him. "I wonder what you tasted like back then," he mused, savoring the thought like a long-lost memory. He didn’t remember all of his victims, but he sometimes had sparks of how they tasted.

By looking at the picture, he could feel the delicious taste of fear your past self. He then wondered if you were to be afraid now, would you come to taste the same ? You tensed at his words. His eyes lingered on you, and for a brief moment, you couldn’t tell if he was remembering or imagining the flavor of your soul, trapped in another body from a past life.

Penny, standing beside him, tilted his head curiously, always fascinated by his older brother’s musings, though never quite grasping the full depth of them. "Do you think they taste the same now ?" Penny asked, his voice light and filled with false innocent curiosity, as if discussing a favorite meal rather than the horrors that lurked beneath that very question. Penny couldn’t possibly comprehend the horror of realising that you had been killed by the Penny Brothers—your own patients—in another life…

Pennywise’s smile widened, sharp and predatory. "Oh, I wouldn’t doubt it," he purred, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer to you, inspecting you like a hunter eyeing prey. "The past has a funny way of repeating itself, doesn’t it ?" His voice dropped to a low, taunting whisper. "Maybe we’ve danced this dance before, sugar. Maybe you screamed my name, and I...enjoyed every second of it."

Penny giggled beside him, blissfully unaware of the darker implications of the discovery. He was entertained by the idea, like a child hearing a ghost story for the first time. "If we met before, does that mean we were friends back then too ?" Penny asked with a wide grin, his eyes wide and shining with a kind of uncomfortable naive excitement. You shivered. You hoped you hadn’t been…because that would mean that…even though you used to be friends, they had still eaten you—their instincts had still taken over.

Pennywise shot his brother a sideways glance, the smirk fading for just a second, a flicker of something more sinister passing through his features. "Friends ? Sure, lil’ bro. I am sure we were real close," he drawled, his voice laced with irony as he turned his attention back to you, watching for your reaction.

You felt the weight of his words, the cold, lingering tension in the air. Penny’s innocent question hung between you, but there was no escaping the darker truth that Pennywise reveled in—the possibility that you had crossed paths before, in a different life, and that they had already taken something from you once. And maybe, just maybe, they would do it again.

"Funny how history repeats itself," Pennywise muttered under his breath, his grin growing wider as he leaned in close enough for you to feel his breath. "I guess we’ll just have to see if this time, it ends any differently."

You closed your eyes. How cruel…But you had been expecting it. The fact that the Penny Brothers had decided to spare you didn’t mean squat. They could get hungry at any moment and decide that you weren’t worth the trouble anymore…And that. That did scare you.

Chucky

Chucky chuckled, the light from the photo album reflecting off his mischievous eyes. His small, plastic fingers traced the outline of your doppelgänger in the picture. "Well, well, well, would you look at that ?" he muttered with a grin that was far too wide for comfort. "Looks like I’ve met you before."

He turned toward you, eyes glinting with something wicked. "You recognize ‘em? Nah, of course you don’t." His voice took on a teasing, almost playful tone, but there was an edge to it that sent a chill down your spine. "Bet you didn’t know I already took care of you once. Guess you’re back for round two, huh ?"

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your cool despite the strange tension in the room. "What do you mean, Chucky ?"

He snorted, rolling his eyes as if it was obvious. "Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. This ain’t my first rodeo, and it sure as hell ain’t yours either. See that ?" He jabbed a finger at the picture again. "That’s you. Or, well, it was you. Before I did what I do best."

You stared at the photo, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at the back of your mind. It was unsettling how much the person in the picture resembled you, almost like a mirror from a past you couldn’t remember. Chucky’s voice broke your thoughts.

"I didn’t know then, but something tells me we’re not done. Not by a long shot," he said, his voice low and dripping with amusement. He let out a sharp, maniacal laugh, stepping closer. "What do you think ? You wanna do this the easy way, or we gonna have some fun like last time ?"

He was enjoying this far too much, but there was something beneath his bravado—something darker. He wasn’t just messing with you. There was recognition in his eyes, a hint of unease mixed with the usual bravado. He could remember your screams, your fear—and he enjoyed it.

You took a step back, trying to shake off the creeping feeling of dread. "You’re full of it, Chucky. It’s just a picture." You tried to reason.

He smirked, shaking his head. "Maybe. But you do feel it, don’t ya ? That little tingle in your spine ? That’s the past comin’ back to haunt ya, baby. And you and me ? We’ve got unfinished business." He leaned closer, eyes narrowing. "You can feel it. In your bones. You know me."

His laughter filled the room, that familiar, high-pitched cackle echoing in your ears. Even as you tried to brush it off, a tiny voice in the back of your mind wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was truth in his words. Chucky left and your eyes fell back on the picture. You swallowed uneasily before turning around to leave…

Brahms

Brahms sat in the garden, staring at an old photo album with a deep sense of unease. His hands shook slightly as he flipped through the pages, his breath catching in his throat when he finally saw it—you. Your doppelgänger stared back at him from the photograph, the same gentle eyes, the same smile, just like he remembered. His heart tightened, and a wave of guilt washed over him. You had no idea, did you ? You were unaware that once upon a time you used to be his nanny and that once upon a time…he had killed you. He swallowed hard, gripping the edges of the book. For a long moment, he just sat there, unable to tear his gaze away from the picture. His mind raced with memories, flashes of the past he had tried so desperately to bury. He hadn’t wanted to hurt you—not then, not now. But he had, and now here you were, back in his life, completely unaware of the darkness that connected you both.

You entered the garden and noticed him, sitting there with his hands trembling ever so slightly. "Brahms ?" you asked softly, stepping closer. "Is everything alright ?"

He didn’t answer, couldn’t find the words. Instead, he glanced up at you with a look of such sorrow and regret that it made your heart ache. You frowned, confused by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

"Brahms ? What’s wrong ?"

Brahms carefully closed the album, hiding the photograph from view. He stood, his tall figure looming over you, but his movements were slow, deliberate. He didn’t look at you, instead lowering his head in shame. For a moment, you thought he might walk away, but then, to your surprise, he gently wrapped his arms around you. His embrace was hesitant, almost as if he was afraid to touch you, but there was a desperation in the way he held you, like he was trying to protect you from something you couldn’t see. He buried his face in your shoulder, the porcelain mask he wore hiding the expression. You froze for a second, taken aback by the sudden affection, but then you relaxed into his embrace, your hands slowly coming up to rest on his back.

"Hey, it’s okay," you whispered, even though you weren’t sure what was wrong with him. "You’re safe, Brahms. I am here."

Brahms tightened his hold, his body trembling slightly. He couldn’t tell you—not now. How could he ? How could he explain that once, in another time, in another life, he had hurt you in ways that could never be forgiven ? He had been a different person then, consumed by fear, anger, and madness. But now ? Now he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you again, couldn’t bear the weight of that guilt crushing him.

In his mind, he was reliving that terrible moment—the moment he had wrapped his hand around your neck. The moment he had watched the life drain from your eyes. And now, holding you close, he was trying to save you from that day, from the monster he had been.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, though the words were barely audible, muffled against your shoulder. He repeated it in his head, over and over, the weight of it suffocating him.

You stroked his back gently, not knowing the full extent of his turmoil but feeling the depth of his remorse. "It’s okay, Brahms. Whatever it is, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out together. I promise."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his mask still concealing his face, but you could see it in his eyes—the pain, the regret. He gently shook his head, as if trying to tell you that it wasn’t okay, that it could never be okay. But for now, you didn’t press him. You just stayed there, wrapped in his arms, offering him the quiet comfort he so desperately needed, even if you didn’t fully understand why.

Bo and Vincent:

Bo stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the old grey wall of the garage, his ever-present smirk fading as he glanced at the photograph Vincent had uncovered. The resemblance was uncanny—you, staring back at him from the past, though dressed in clothes from a different era and fear in your eyes…Bo felt a strange unease bubbling up inside him, a rare crack in his confident facade. He chewed on his lip, looking over at his brother, who was holding the photograph carefully, as if it were fragile, like the truth it carried.

Vincent hadn’t said a word—he never did. But Bo could see it in the way his twin’s fingers trembled slightly, in the way his usually stoic eyes flickered with some deeper, hidden emotion. Vincent felt it too—the weight of recognition, the unsettling realization that they had seen you before, lived through this before.

"Well, ain’t this somethin’," Bo finally drawled, pushing himself off the wall and sauntering over to where Vincent stood. He took the picture from his brother’s hands, studying it closer, though the easy grin didn’t return. "Looks like we got a second shot at this, huh ?"

They failed to hear you enter the garage. "What’s that ?" you asked, stepping closer to see the picture. Bo, always quick to shield you from what he didn’t want you to know, swiftly tucked the photo behind his back with a playful smirk.

"Nothin’ important, darlin’. Just some old memories," he said, his Southern accent dripping with that charming, almost teasing tone he always used when he was trying to hide something. But there was something off in his eyes, something he was trying to hide.

Vincent, on the other hand, stood motionless, his masked face turned toward you, his breathing slow but deliberate. You could feel his eyes on you from behind the wax mask, studying you in a way that made you wonder if he was seeing someone else when he looked at you.

"Can I see it ?" you asked softly, sensing the shift in the room.

Bo hesitated for a second too long, which was unusual for him. Normally, he’d have some smart comment or distraction ready, but now, he just stood there, one hand gripping the photograph tightly behind his back. Vincent’s gaze never left you. Finally, Bo sighed, his easygoing demeanor slipping just a little. "I reckon you can, but it might spook ya a bit." He handed the photograph to you, his eyes watching your face closely as you took it.

You looked down at the old, faded image. The person in the picture—someone from the past, yet they looked exactly like you. Same eyes, same face, as if you were staring at your own reflection in another lifetime.

"Is this…?" you began, but Bo cut you off.

"Yeah, looks like someone you look like someone from way back. Someone who mighta met a nasty end, if I remember right." He chuckled, but there was no real humor in it. "Small world, huh ?"

Vincent, still silent, took a step closer. His hand reached out slowly, and you watched as he gently touched the edge of the photograph in your hands, his fingers lingering there as if he could feel the weight of the past pressing down on him. You looked into his eyes, searching for some answer, but all you found was a deep, aching sorrow.

Bo noticed the exchange and sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Don’t pay too much mind to it, a’right ? We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. No need to go diggin’ up old graves."

But Vincent remained close, his presence heavy and filled with unspoken remorse. You could feel it—he wasn’t just looking at the person in the photo. He was looking at you, really looking, as if he were remembering something he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was something deeper, but whatever it was, it made your heart ache.

"Vincent," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s okay. I am not mad at you. It is all in the past."

His head tilted slightly, the ever-present mask obscuring his features, but you could see the flicker of pain in his eyes. Without a word, he stepped forward and pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. It was rare for Vincent to show affection like this, but in this moment, it felt like he was trying to atone for something, to shield you from a past you couldn’t remember but he could never forget.

Bo watched the two of you for a moment, his expression softening just a little. He may have been rough around the edges, but even he could understand that they had both grown attached to you. Bo sighed again and shook his head.

"Y’all are a couple of saps, you know that ?" he muttered, but there was a fondness in his voice. He turned his back to you both, giving you a moment of privacy. Vincent held you for a little longer, his embrace a silent apology for something you would never fully understand. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. You were here, in the present, and that was all that counted.

You ended up up forcefully pulling Bo into the hug before whispering.

"It’s okay…I forgive you. I forgive you."

[yelenabemylova]

paparazzi - taylor swift x reader

summary: being swarmed by the paparazzi isn't exactly how you wanted to spend your morning with taylor

warnings: anxiety

"please, baby," you pout up at your girlfriend in your sleep induced hazy state. taylor was leaving for work early and you had missed her so much recently, so you had resorted to begging her to take you with her.

she giggles, taking a mental photograph of how cute you look in her shirt with your hair sprawled out across the white pillows. she leans over you, gently pressing a soft kiss to your lips, "ive already set up the passenger seat for you."

a look of confusion etches itself upon your face, but was gone as soon as taylor scooped you up in her arms, carrying you out to the car. much to your surprise, there was a blanket folded up neatly sitting on your seat, a pile of snacks atop it.

taylor helps you get comfortable underneath the fluffy blanket and gently kisses your forehead before setting off on the long drive to the studio. she sang quietly as the radio played, her hand gently holding yours throughout the whole ride.

"we're here," she gently woke you from your slumber, causing you to groan and curl up into yourself. after you were promised a comfy seat and good company, taylor managed to convince you to leave the warmth of the car and walk through the rain to the studio back door.

ever the gentlewoman, she held an umbrella over the both of you, keeping you close to her side as many paparazzi crowded around you. your grip on taylor's hand was practically cutting off circulation to her fingers, you were never a fan of random swarms of photographers, especially not when you were in your pyjamas.

taylor understood your discomfort and picked up her pace, her arm wrapping around your shoulders in an attempt to cover your face a little. you appreciated the gesture, desperate to be inside and alone.

as soon as the two of you were inside, taylor pulled you into her arms, hugging you tightly to help calm you down, "i'm sorry darling, i didn't know they would be there. they aren't usually but they must have caught on to my schedule now."

you sniffled quietly as you kept your face buried in her jumper, feeling very overwhelmed by everything. taylor gently led you to a room in the studio with a very heavy door, closing it behind her before every noise in the world faded away.

"it's soundproof in here," she smiled nervously, unsure if this was what you needed. suddenly, you broke down crying in the middle of the room, falling to the floor as you released all your pent up emotions. taylor worldlessly took you into her arms and just silently held you, attempting to convey all of her love with something as simple as a hug.

the world was a scary place, but with taylor by your side, you felt invincible.

[ranpazz]

𝖱𝖺𝗇𝗉𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌 ✦ 𝖲𝖥𝖶!𝖵𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇

Boyfriend!Ranpo is the type of boyfriend who will definitely whine, pout, and throw a tantrum if you don't give him what he wants.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who will take any chance to use the fact he's the world's greatest detective, or that he completed a case so you can praise him. (plz praise him he deserves it)

Boyfriend!Ranpo will not hesitate to kiss the sugar on your lips after you eat something sweet. It's not his fault they taste so sweet! "C'mon, one more kiss? Pleaseeee?"

Boyfriend!Ranpo definitely needs to be reminded to eat regular food. The last time he had a proper meal is literally unknown. Although he'll pout and complain how he doesn't need real food because he's the greatest detective, but with enough persuasion – and a promise of candy and a kiss later – he'll eat whatever you made/brought him.

Boyfriend!Ranpo is the type to randomly hop on your back or into your arms and demand to be carried. He's like the Disney princesses who get picked up and spun around. If you refuse, be prepared for an entire day of whiney and pouty Ranpo.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who refuses to go to sleep without a goodnight kiss. Poor baby can't sleep without it. "I can't sleep without your kiss. Just one. That's all I want."

Boyfriend!Ranpo who's the living embodiment of a koala. He definitely clings to you no matter the situation. Oh you're working on a case? He's in your lap. You want to take a nap? He's on top of you with his arms around you, and he's not letting go. You're baking something? He's already behind you with his arms around your waist waiting to lick the spoon.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who can read you like a damn book. Don't think you can get away feeling some type of way around him – he will figure it out.

Boyfriend!Ranpo pinches your cheeks to get your attention. If you're zoning out, he'll poke you or pinch your nose.

Boyfriend!Ranpo despises when you come back from a mission injured. At first, he'll claim that if it were him, they never would've touch him. But once he realizes that he could've lost you, he clings to you more than before.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who, even though doesn't share his candy, will leave a piece for you when you're about to leave for a mission. It's his good luck charm to you.

Boyfriend!Ranpo loves making you ask for something even though he knows exactly what you want. This man is just as much of a tease as Dazai, if not more.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who will not hesitate to search up the entire encyclopedia and concrete facts when you somehow manage to prove him wrong.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who holds your hand on the train so he doesn't get lost – he says it's for your sake but we all know better –

Boyfriend!Ranpo who will point out every minor detail in a horror movie. He definitely complain how the mc does the dumbest things. "How does she trip? There's nothing to trip on-" "If that were me, I'd survive easily."

Boyfriend!Ranpo will rant to you about his cases, or even how the police should've called for him instead of trying to work it out themselves.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who's definitely a sucker for your touch. He'll do anything to have your fingers gently raking across his scalp.

[alairroux]

Another chapter! I wrote it right after watching X-Men:First Class" and needed to process my feelings, so it might get intense at moments. Also, it's my last free weekend before going back to school, so the updates will be less frequent.

Chapter VII

"Empty Promises"

“ No wonder you’re seeking shelter away from your own mind.”

A smooth, male voice spoke from behind her. The voices in her head still heavy, screaming over one another. She could barely hear him through that, but even with that, she could feel him putting so much pity into her being. And that she hated. The last thing she wanted now was pity. There were so many more things than someone could’ve done for her, and picking the pity was literally the worst route. She slowly got up, taking one final glance at the darkening water in the pond. She turned to face the man that was standing behind her, the moment their eyes met, the pain in her mind getting even greater, making her dizzy and her emotions even more evident. 

“Charles Xavier… What a meeting. Truly a unique occasion.” 

She spoke, looking directly at him, her head still feeling heavy. The anger was bubbling just under the surface. Alice couldn’t really pinpoint from where it was coming, but it for sure wasn’t a new feeling. It’s been there for a good while now, only growing, fueled by everything she heard and everything that happened lately. 

“ I’m surprised you know my name. Maybe you're an even more impressive telepath than you seem to be.”

“Maybe? Just maybe?” She laughed, all control shattering in her. “I’m much more than you can comprehend. Taking in the fact that you could barely handle your own mutants.” 

First pin, right where it hurts. She was in his mind, searching all the memories this version could share with her. The pain in her mind caused her to move slower, blink in slow motion, almost forget to swallow her own saliva, like she was going completely crazy, losing every healthy strand in her mind. The eyes weren’t in their best condition as well. Hurting. She could feel their pain seep into her soul, her whole body burning. 

“Is that so? What makes you so much more than them? So much more than me?”

“Power? I mean, everything around you, or even you wouldn’t be there if it wouldn’t be for my mind right now. That’s something you wouldn’t have handled well. Even if you did, any connection you’d try to make to my mind, would only make it all worse. There’s enough pain in there already, you don’t have to put more of it there.”

She tilted her head to the side, feeling like the whole world around them moved with it, slowly tilting, threatening to roll over. It was so loud. The water behind her was bubbling as well, she could not only hear but feel that as well. So cold. It was cold, and it was bubbling like it was boiling, whatever was in there, was definitely not so friendly. 

“Even if it would be possible for you to carry greater power than I do, I’d still love to try to help you.” 

How sweet. Always caring for others, or maybe just for his fascination over mutations. She could see it, his eyes scanning over her, seeking answers, seeking signs of what exactly was different about her. However she was keeping him away from her mind putting some mental barriers. 

“And where are all the other mutants you promised your help to?”

That was a strike right between his ribs, a sharp blade of her words, said in such a monotone voice, pierced his chest, leaving him speechless. Dead. Most of them were dead already, he didn’t manage to save them, to help them. 

“Why do you still believe you can fix this? That you can fix humans? They’re unfixable, driven by fear and desire to rule over anything and everything.” 

She spoke calmly, taking a few steps ahead, feeling the burning pain travel through her bones, down her neck, then spine, spreading over to her shoulders, arms, until it reached her joints, making it painful to move her hands, causing them to crack with each movement, but somehow it was so satisfying.

“Because, when they stop fearing us, it’ll all change for the better. They have nothing to fear just because we’re different. We just have to try.” 

“It’s been a good few decades since you started all that and unfortunately I doubt there’s any change. If anything, there’s less mutants than there used to be. Humans don't change. Ever. They abandon their own families if they sense any danger in them. I used to have a family. Loving parents and a brother that was so close with me, you’d think we share a soul. But they abandoned me. They left me alone with nothing, after years of putting me through torture.” She smirked, feeling the flood of unpleasant memories pouring over her mind. “My telepathy started when I was eight. You know what they did? Dragged me from one doctor to another, getting me all those kinds of meds, putting so many mental issues in my charts it seemed impossible, trying to block my mind, make me catatonic, they even got drugs somehow to feed to the twelve year old me. Because the thought of having a mutant at home was terrifying enough to try everything, even if it could’ve killed me.” 

It hurt the same. After those two years it hurt the same way. She was abandoned and misunderstood because of their fear of having a ‘monster’ in close proximity. She could sense him trying to come up with something, despite the anger still in her veins, the mess in her mind, she decided to give him a chance to voice himself, the last chance one would say. First and last, as she never really met him. Was she even meeting him right now? It was all in her head, borrowed pieces from Logan’s memory, put into her own reality, with the pond overflowing, the darkness staining soft grass. 

“I’m very sorry that you had to experience that. No one should’ve gone through a mess like that. That’s why my school, the Institute, was important and needed. For those like you, like me… Us. To find refuge from all the dangers we might face just because of some gene mutations.”

“And where is this safe place now? Was it ever there? From what I know, the danger and death reached all of you there anyway.” 

Word for word, maybe a bit pessimistic look at it all, but she wasn’t really wrong with it. The safety was very temporary for a really short time, then again the death, pain and suffering reached its claws out for the entire race, with one goal in mind. To end them all. One by one pull them apart, until only the normalcy will be left. 

“Right again, aren’t you? But without trying there’s no chance for change, submitting to them wouldn’t fix anything either.”

“And how many lives were you willing to sacrifice just to prove my point that nothing ever changes?”

She could sense his anger rise up, it was starting to match her own, which was a dangerous combination. The voices in her mind once again getting louder, she could almost feel them pull her brain to parts. One after another, severing any connections that were there. She could feel him trying to enter her mind, lowering her defense just to put out an attack. The red eyes littering the skin on her face, focusing on him, multiple pupils turned towards him with an angry glow. The waves of pure pain from her mind, sharp like needles, started to pin into his brain, first just landing on the surface, slowly moving inside, almost like that coin all those years ago, just this time it was hundreds of them instead of just one. 

The liquid darkness reached her feet, starting to crawl up her body, somehow its coldness felt refreshing. She just stood in the same place, tilting her head to the side, seeing him writhe in pain. It was quite a sight. A telepath, believed to be strongest one of his kind, nothing but a worm on her mercy, somehow filled her with a sense of pride. 

“ You know, if you’d talk less and do more, maybe at least some of those lives could’ve been saved. I wonder how many versions, variants of you there were, and how many of them failed everyone just like you did.” 

When he tried to attack her mind, the eyes covered the sky around her, making it red, littered with eyes, the air filled with pain and fear. He didn’t know where to look now. Only sometimes glancing towards her like she was the one to be feared. One of her kind fearing her, and he expected humans to just accept her among them? Funny. 

“I’m sorry Charles, but I pick saving myself, before any of your nonsense will reach and destroy me as well”

For a split second there was a thought to just destroy all those bits that formed him, to erase all those memories she was given by Logan’s memory. The darkness on her skin was getting thick and sticky, soaking through her skin, to reach the inside of her, the main aim was the heart and she could say that without a second guess. 

“Maybe in another universe I’d give it all a chance. Your teachings and school, unfortunately in this, it’s all too far gone. Goodbye, Professor.” 

Everything went dark as soon as she finished speaking. The darkness was thick, filled with only a few specks of a blue light, she felt like she was underwater. Surrounded by the coldness from every possible side, with no idea where to swim to reach the surface. She couldn’t catch a breath, she’d drown. But… it all started fading as her chest was hurting more and more from holding her breath, soon even the specks of light disappearing from her eyesight. 

She woke up in the same armchair in which she was curled up for so long. The wave of pain immediately coursed through her body as she only wanted to stretch out a bit. Her mind filled with more and more voices, making her almost nauseous. Alice still forced herself to get up, the burning pain attacking her feet and then traveling up her legs. Hurts, hurts, hurts, need away.  Without thinking for long, she took the hoodie that way laying close by, not caring to who it belonged. She walked towards the door, bumping into a wall on her way out. Something was forcing her to get away from this flat, from the safety and comfort of the well known space. She got out into the street. There were barely any cars, as the day was only starting, the sky barely in a peachy shade of pink, and yet any sound was like a sharp arrow through her mind. The need to get away, as far as possible, is still there. It was unexplainable but she knew to follow it. From time to time involuntary whimper of pain leaving her lips. It was too much to contain, to carry with herself. 

At the same time, when she was trying to run away, Logan woke up due to Merry Puppins  scratching at the door and whining. She never did that. Still groggy from his sleep, he looked around, noticing the lack of Wade’s hoodie on the couch and the fact that Alice wasn’t there anymore. Her scent was still there, so it couldn’t have been long since she left. Quickly, he went back to the room and  started shaking Wade awake. 

“Come on. Wake up. She left the house. Wade, Alice left the house.” 

That was enough to pull the merc out of his slumber. 

[quinnydoll]

Knives

You have deep, grizzly scars left behind by the razor sharp edge of another's defenses, not that their intent was necessarily to hurt you, but you don't seem to remember those defenses at all, do you? No, your memory focuses on when they made you feel wanted, before they cut you out. It's understandable, really. You remember their soft words, their welcoming smile, their simple presence.

They approached you today, and while they didn't intend to bring you in closer, you just couldn't help yourself. They told you something they thought you needed to know, and intended to leave you again with that. Perhaps not the sweetest of greetings, not a tender reconciliation, but you saw it as an olive branch, when they weren't promising you anything.

It was a bad decision, for you to attempt to move in. You could've predicted it, but as you approach them, you don't even notice the knives burying themselves back exactly into the places they originally left those scars so long ago. They step away, and you're left bleeding out on the floor, exactly like before. You really are a hopeless doll. You can't even attempt to heal right. Look, you ended up hurting yourself even more. How silly of you...

It's not the same as before, it's worse. Now, as you watch yourself spill out, see the color permeating the pool it forms below you, there's no one to pick you up and take care of you. You have to do that yourself, and you know better than anyone, that you're not prepared to do that. Even still, you somehow manage to yourself, and when the leaking stops, you find yourself feeling just as hollow as before.

Look what you've done to yourself, now the scars are going to be even deeper, even more grizzly. If you'd considered for a second that they still didn't want you, maybe that wouldn't have happened. That witch who accompanies you, she's not your witch, but she's blaming herself all the same, yet again.

"Stop. Just, stop. You're not making it better. Just let this one hurt. Just let this one feel. It made a stupid decision. That's all." You say as you lay on your back, feeling the leaking slowly stream off to the back of you.

This blood, is not blood. Not really.

[carefulfears]

thinking of scully's love letters and "that you should know my heart, look into it, finding there the memory and experience that belong to you, that are you" and "chance meeting your perfect other, your perfect opposite - your protector and endangeror" and "the forces against us are unrelenting, but so is my determination, to see you again...until then, i remain forever yours, dana" and pages upon pages upon pages of sprawling cursive and "i hope that in these terms you might know it and know me" and "mulder, i feel you close, though i know you are now pursuing your own path. for that i am grateful, more than i could ever express,” she was a repressed catholic scientist harboring this kind of gothic enduring desperate love, just bleeding out of her when given the chance

[mockingmolly]

Man, the contrast of M9 getting Molly back in the form of Kingsley, versus BH potentially getting Laudna back in the form of Matilda? With tm9, Kingsley was quite possibly the kindest way they could have gotten any semblance of their friend back. It had been a year without him and none of his friends existed as he would have remembered them anymore, and he would have been faced with the struggle of trying to find his place in their group again, coming back a contrast to the person they built him up as while he was dead.

And furthermore, he came back into a time of newly-won peace, after they had managed to defeat the threats that had been building up since his death. They got him back specifically because of their success, and gave this fresh-memoried person a world ahead of them to reclaim themself the way molly never truly had. But Matilda? If the soul they pluck from the afterlife is the girl who died and stayed dead on the tree, instead of the one who spent 30 years living in the aftermath of it, they’re essentially dragging up a girl who has long-since been at rest, to thrust her into the deep end of the biggest threat any of them have ever faced, and inevitably expecting her to be able to swim and keep up. A girl who died without having any grasp of her powers, nor life experience beyond what she knew at the outskirts of the briarwood’s rule. Plucked up and dropped into a group of strangers who are dealing with some pretty intense grief, and the weight of the world on their shoulders. 

Laudna has, of course, gone through a lot. There’s no reality in which she isn’t deeply fucked up by what happened before, upon, and after this second death. Reckoning with the sudden loss of Delilah over her shoulders and what it means for her going forward is going to be a journey, but she’ll have her family by her side through all of it. She’ll have the knowledge she’s gained through 30 years of unliving and a grasp on what’s at stake in the world she’s coming back to. The world she seems to want to come back to, as shaken as she is.

If the soul they reach out to is Matilda, there’s no guarantee that anything they could say will appeal to a stranger that’s been dead and at rest for decades. And even if they do, i can’t help but feel like uprooting and forcing a soul they don’t know into a life/burden they have no way out of is also one of the crueler outcomes in all of this.