#so she set me up an appointment for next week to get a physical and bloodwork done and now i regret everything

[miss--river]

.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 19) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 4.1k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Medical Inaccuracies; Crying; Deployments; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: Life goes on, even though Jake is still deployed.

Series Master List

Master List

Standing in the bathroom, you applied the final touches to your makeup and hair. Sarah had been kind enough to host your baby shower and you were currently trying to think of gifts to get her, Penny, Emma, and Phoenix to thank them for the party. 

You put on a pair of earrings that used to belong to your mom. You were getting more and more sentimental and found yourself wearing your mom’s jewelry around more. Heading out to the kitchen, you greeted Mav, who was supposed to drive you.  

“You’re not hiding the fact that you know?” Maverick asked, gesturing to your pink dress. 

“No, what’s the point?” you replied with a shrug, walking over to your shoes. Sliding on a pair of flats, you added, “Jake knows and that’s all I care about.”

“Well, let’s get going. I’m pretty sure that Penny will have my head if you’re late.”

After a short drive, Maverick pulled into the Kazansky’s driveway. You slowly slid out of the car despite Maverick’s offer to help you and walked into the house. Heading down the hall into the main space, you paused at the entrance. 

The room had pink ribbons draped all around. Balloons decorated the corners and streamers framed the windows. They set up tables along the wall and there were already trays of pink cupcakes and other desserts on one of them. Emma and Phoenix were unboxing the catering in the kitchen and Sarah and Penny were finishing up some of the decorations.

“There she is,” Penny called, straightening up. “Happy Baby Shower!” She walked over and pulled you into a hug that you happily returned. “Are you excited?”

“I’m hoping that something interesting happens,” you replied with a small smile. “Thanks for doing all of this for me. And thank you Sarah for hosting.”

“Oh, please, I used to host the most ridiculous naval events here. At least this is a party I’ll actually enjoy,” Sarah mused, accepting your hug with a bright smile. “How’s Baby Girl doing?”

“She’s been pretty quiet today. So, she’ll decide to kick me when I’m least in the mood for it.”

“Are you hungry?” Phoenix asked, walking over and holding out a plate of food to you. “Everything is safe for you to have. Except for the booze, of course.”

“Thanks,” you mused, picking up an hors devour from the plate.

You ate quietly as they walked you through the whole set up. And you quietly kept grabbing little snacks along the way. Staring around at the whole set up, you turned to your family.

“You guys didn’t have to do all of this stuff for me.”

“Don’t start that. You deserve a nice baby shower and you’re getting a nice baby shower,” Phoenix stated firmly, causing you to nod and smile. 

“Do you guys need help with anything?”

“No, grab a drink and go relax. People should start getting here in about twenty minutes.”

It wasn’t a huge baby shower, at least compared to some that you had been to before, but you saw so many faces that you hadn’t seen in years. Emma really went through your whole list of contacts. But speaking of Emma, you hadn’t seen much of her. 

“Where’s Emma?” you asked Bradley, walking over to where he was standing.

“She ran out to grab something.”

“Is she alright?” you asked worriedly.

“Yeah, she just hasn’t been feeling well lately,” Bradley explained, a note of worry in his tone. “I told her to stay home, but she insisted on coming.”

“Did she go to a doctor?”

“She has an appointment for next week,” Bradley explained quietly. “Thursday. I told her just to go to urgent care or the hospital even if she feels that sick, but she said she wanted to wait. And I don’t want to upset her.”

“I’ll talk to her when she gets back.”

“She’ll just tell you to focus on your party,” Bradley reminded you, but you simply smiled. 

“Exactly. It’ll just be part of your gift to me.”

“You couldn’t have told me that before I spent three hours in a baby store for you?”

“Did I mention how I appreciate how supportive you are?” you remarked sarcastically, patting your brother on the shoulder before moving on. 

Making your way through the crowd of people to head back inside to be in the air conditioning and to grab some more food, you looked up to see Maverick talking with a group of familiar aviators in the corner of the yard. You turned a bit and made your way over to greet them. 

“Well, here’s the woman of the hour,” Maverick announced, causing all of them to turn to you. 

“Hi, everyone,” you stated, waving to them. “I wasn’t expecting any of you to make it.” Turning to the man closest to you, you offered him a hug. “How’d you get the time off of work, Uncle Slider? I would have thought you would be flying now.” 

“I timed my flights and got an extended layover in San Diego,” Slider replied, returning your hug. 

With the exception of Maverick and Iceman, Slider was the aviator who spent the most time with your family. Especially because he retired earlier than either Mav or Ice had. He didn’t have the stories about your dad that Maverick did nor did he provide the same sort of stability that Ice did with Sarah and his family, but he was a pillar in your childhood. 

“I thought you said you would stay away from naval aviators,” he joked, gesturing to your bump.

“I know,” you laughed, resting a hand on your back. “But we all make exceptions for the right people.” 

“And is it true that you got married already?” 

“Right before he left,” you agreed, showing your rings. “It was both a shotgun and a pre-deployment wedding all in one.” 

“Well, you know if he ever wants to fly commercially, I can get him in no problem,” Slider offered, causing you to smile.

“Thanks, but I think Jake’s the type to be forced to retire from the Navy.” 

“He’s been spending too much time around Mav then?” Slider guessed, nudging Maverick in the side jokingly. “I still can’t believe that you’re actually retired now.”

“Well, I’m needed here now,” Maverick replied, glancing over at you. “And I’d like to enjoy the rest of my time with the kids and Penny.”

As Maverick and Slider continued to talk, you moved around the group. Thanking Hollywood and Wolfman for driving down, you turned to Viper and his wife, who still lived locally despite Viper’s retirement over two decades now. 

“It’s been so long,” you remarked, pulling Viper’s wife Linda in for a hug. “How are you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about us. Look at you! You’re so big now,” Linda called, causing Slider to snort. “And pink! You’re having a girl then?”

“Yeah, we’re having a little girl,” you confirmed with a proud smile. 

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you.” Turning to Viper, you moved to give him a hug. “And how are we, Admiral?”

“Still strong,” Viper reported, offering you a smile. “And we’re very glad to hear that Jake finally took his responsibilities seriously.”

“Oh?” you asked, confused.

“Marrying you, dear,” Linda explained with a smile.

“Taking responsibility for his actions,” Viper stated bluntly, causing your eyes to widen.

“Right,” you trailed off, nodding with a polite smile.

“Why don’t we see if we can find Bradley then?” Maverick suggested, stepping up beside you. “He’s separating from the Navy, you know.”

“After the hissy fit that he threw about getting in, he’s just leaving like that?” Viper barked out, causing his wife to admonish him.

You shared an amused look with Slider before you headed inside. Chatting with Phoenix and Coyote, you paused when you saw a stressed-looking Emma walk into the kitchen with a few bags. You walked into the kitchen as well, cautiously approaching your obviously skittish sister-in-law.

"Emma?" you called, causing her to whip around.

"Hey, did you need something?" she asked, unpacking a bag.

"No, but did you?" you offered, moving to stand beside her. "You look a little stressed and I don't want you to worry about the party anymore. It's amazing."

"I'm not stressed about the party. I'm just . . . stressed," Emma sighed, avoiding eye contact.

"Is it something with the house?"

"No, it's all fine."

"Is it my stupid brother?"

"No," Emma replied quietly. "Where is he anyway?"

"Getting a lecture from Viper, I think," you stated, glancing out the window. Turning back to Emma, you offered, "You know, I'm here for you. And forget the fact that this is my party. I'm honestly just trying to stay busy so that I can ignore the fact that Jake isn't here."

Emma gave you a sympathetic look and sighed. Looking around, she slowly turned back to you.

"I don't want to ruin your party."

"The Navy ruined my party. What's bothering you?"

"I'm . . . late."

"Late for what?"

Emma shot you a look.

"Oh, sorry. Wait, how late? Like a day?"

"More like . . . sixteen," Emma replied, causing your eyes to widen.

"Have you taken a test?"

"Not yet."

"Go get one."

"I have one. I bought it at the store a month ago and it's been sitting in my glove compartment ever since. But it's your party. Today isn't about me, it's about you and your baby," Emma reminded you quietly. "I'm not going to take the test."

"Even if I tell you that you should," you stated, causing Emma to sigh. "Or at least do it when you get home." After a moment, you asked, "Why have you been avoiding it for this long? You bought the test a month ago and you still haven't taken it?"

"Because then it becomes real," Emma replied, not meeting your gaze. "And we had our plan. We were going to start trying after Bradley separated from the Navy and settled into his new job. And a lot can go wrong in the first few weeks . . . I'm just trying to process it some more."

"Have you told him yet?" Emma shook her head slowly and you offered her a supportive smile in return. "Look, whatever happens, Bradley loves you and I love you and we’ll all be here to support you. And, hey, at least your dad already got the whole threatening phase out of his system. It's smooth sailing in that department."

Emma managed a soft chuckle at the memories, closing her eyes for a moment. The two of you turned when you heard footsteps. Bradley stepped into the kitchen with his sights set on you.

“Penny said it’s time to open presents.” 

“Alright, I'll go out there."

You shared a glance with Emma, who nodded quietly, before moving to move past your brother. But before you could make it too far, Bradley gave you a lightly annoyed look.

“And please don't send anyone else to give me a lecture today. Because I barely survived the last one.” 

“Viper found you then?” you asked, amused. 

“And then talked my ear off with the most disappointed dad look I’ve seen in years.” 

“Well, it was either you or me, and it's my party, so it had to be you.” 

Glancing between Bradley and Emma, who was already staring at her husband, you headed outside to open your presents. They were all lined up for you by the time that you arrived, and Penny was there to hand you your presents.

Penny and Maverick bought you a beautiful crib. Sarah got you a bassinet and told you that her kids loved it for their own kids. Javy and Nat bought what seemed to be an industrial stroller—Javy insisted that it was going to be necessary given your child’s genes. And you got piles of baby clothes of various sizes, diapers, and some formula.

“And this one seems to be from Emma and Bradley,” Penny stated, handing you a card. “But I don’t know where they are.” 

“I think they’re setting up the cake,” you lied, opening the card. Inside was a picture of a rocking chair and an order slip with a promise to have it delivered to your new house. “They got me a rocking chair.”

You were folding a set of baby onesies when Javy walked over with another box for you. You were a little confused but took the present from him anyways.

“You already gave me a gift, Javy. What’s this?”

“See who it’s from,” he replied, before moving to take his seat next to Phoenix. 

You flipped the box over and when you read Jake’s name, albeit in Javy’s handwriting, you looked up suddenly. Locking eyes with Javy, who motioned for you to open it, you quickly tore through the wrapping paper. Pulling out a box, you opened it and gently set the cover aside when you saw a photo album inside. 

You ran your finger down the leather spine before slow opening the cover. The inside cover was plain, but it had a printed-out email from Jake laid over the top. Picking it up, you smiled to yourself as you read through his short message. 

To My Beautiful Wife,

I know that the best gift that I could give you would be being by your side today and every other day, but this is the next best thing that I could think of. Admittedly, this wasn’t actually my idea, though I’m still going to take credit for it, but here’s a collection of memories over the last year. But there’s still plenty of space for the years to come and new memories that we have yet to make together. 

I miss you and I love you so much. And tell Baby Girl that I’ll be home soon to feel her kick. 

Love,

Your Smoking Hot Husband

“Well,” you croaked out, placing the paper down. “I think I’ll open it later because I don’t want to start sobbing right now.” 

“Who wants cake?” Maverick suggested loudly.

You smiled as you wiped a tear away, trying to stay positive. Phoenix walked inside the house to go and grab the cake as Maverick squeezed you into his side.

~~~~~

Jake sat out on the deck of the carrier, staring down at a photo of you and your bump. 

It had been about two months since he left you behind and he was counting down the days until he could be there with you and your baby again. There was some talk of a few aviators in his program returning back to the States soon and Jake was doing everything that he could to make sure that he was on that list. 

The sun was starting to set below the waves, casting an orange glow over the ship. The steady sea breeze dried the tears on his cheeks, but Jake didn’t move from his spot. Your due date was in three weeks and even though he read that first children were typically born later; he knew that your daughter was a stubborn one and moved to the beat of her own drum. 

She would come when she wanted. Not when it was convenient.

“Do you think you can wait just a little longer?” Jake asked the photo of your bump softly. “You know, we still haven’t picked a name for you yet, so if you want a normal name, you should give us a little more time to decide, alright?” 

Leaning back against the wall, Jake stared out in the direction of California. He always made sure to know what direction home was. After a moment, Jake pursed his lips together and took a breath. 

“I’m coming home. I promise.” 

~~~~~

“And just sign there on the bottom line,” your realtor instructed you, handing over a pen. 

You slowly signed your name to officially buy your first home. It was also the first time that you fully wrote out your surname as ‘Bradshaw-Seresin,’ but that just left an even more bitter taste in your mouth. It was supposed to be a happy moment, a triumph, a celebration to buy your first family home.

But without Jake here, it just felt like a hollow victory. 

“Congratulations, you’re officially a homeowner,” your realtor replied with a kind smile. 

“Thank you.” 

Your realtor walked off, leaving you standing alone in the middle of your new home. And when the door shut and the sound echoed around the empty space, you instinctively held your new keys to your chest. Bradley and Maverick were coordinating everything to get your apartment officially packed up and brought over. You would have to return to the apartment to return the keys and everything, but you weren't in a rush.

Walking through the house, you silently took in the moment. You ran your hand along the wall as you headed to the front of the house. Slowly stepping up onto the bottom stairs, you rested your hands on your bump.

“Welcome home, Baby Girl,” you murmured, pressing your hand to where she was kicking. 

You texted Bradley that everything was signed, and it was time to bring the truck over. You would have moved to unpack the baby stuff that Maverick shoved into your car earlier that morning, but you knew that you would have given Maverick a heart attack if you did, so you simply waited for everyone to arrive.

A knock at the door made you turn to see Emma waving to you through the glass. You slowly waddled over to the door to let her into your home. 

“Morning,” she greeted, pulling you in for a hug. She straightened up and offered you a bag. “I brought you breakfast.”

The two of you sat on the lawn furniture that the sellers left for you as part of the sale. You kicked your swollen feet up and balanced your breakfast on your bump, leaning heavily on the couch. Bradley and Maverick, with some help from the other Daggers and other friends, were currently moving your boxes into the house.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to supervise that at all?" Emma asked you, a bit worriedly.

"It's fine," you murmured, dismissing her concerns. "There's no point in fully unpacking. Minus our bedroom, the kitchen, and the baby stuff. We still have to paint and buy new furniture."

“Alright,” Emma replied, not trying to push you. 

The topic of your clear mood shift was becoming an increasingly common conversation among your friends and family. Your due date was growing closer, and you were making more and more comments that concerned them. Or tasks that you refused to do without Jake there beside you.

And everyone was quietly worried about what would happen if you went into labor and Jake wasn't home yet. If it was time for your daughter to come out, it was time for her to come out.

“Has she been moving around a lot?” Emma asked conversationally.

“Yes,” you sighed, sounding exhausted. “She kicked my ribs yesterday and knocked the wind out of me.” Offering a small smile to Emma, you added, “Things for you to look forward to.”

“I’m trying to survive the first trimester,” Emma chuckled nervously. 

“I hope you have a girl too,” you spoke softly with a smile, resting your hands on your bump. “They’re only going to be about six or seven months apart.”

“I know. But I think we’re going to wait until they're born to find out. My sisters did and my parents were always so excited to find out at the hospital, so I want to do that with our baby.”

“Have you told any of them that you’re expecting?”

“No, not yet. We’re going to take a trip up to see them after you have your baby and we’ll tell them then. I wanted to do it in person.”

You smiled and nodded, finishing up your breakfast. After chatting for a little bit more, you headed inside the house for the cooler air. You were temporarily living in the first-floor guest bedroom and that room was your main priority.

“Did you want all of it in the nursery or down here?” Phoenix asked, setting down the last box of baby stuff. 

“Down here is fine for now.”

“Did you want us to set up anything for you?” Javy asked, standing beside his wife. 

“No, I’m alright. We already got the car seat installed and that’s the most important thing right now. We can put together the rest of it when Jake gets home.” Slowly standing up again, you sent Javy and Phoenix a small smile. “Thanks for your help.”

As you waddled off to the kitchen to help Penny and Maverick, Phoenix and Coyote shared a concerned look. 

“She’s not herself,” Coyote told his wife quietly.

"She's in her last trimester and her first few months of marriage. And her husband isn't here." Phoenix sighed, watching you with concern. "And everyone has their breaking point."

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

We moved into the house today. Maverick is sleeping on the sofa to keep an eye on me. I think that he thinks that I’m going to go into labor soon. Which I’m not. Baby Girl is snug and comfortable, and I have a feeling that she’s going to take her time coming out. Bradley and I were both late babies, so I’m sure that she’ll follow the trend.

I had them leave all of the baby stuff on the first floor for now. We can set up the nursery when you’re home with us. It didn’t feel right setting it up without you here.

Baby Girl is keeping me up again. She’s been kicking and now she’s even ignoring your warnings to go to bed. I have a feeling that she’s going to be payback for all of the crap that I put my mom and Mav through. Isn’t that what they say anyways?

I miss you. Come home soon and safely. 

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

At nearly thirty-nine weeks pregnant, there was no other way to describe your existence beside ‘uncomfortable.’ You were pretty sure that you resembled a penguin or a seal lion with the stupid way that your bump made you walk. And your stomach had ballooned out to make you look all the more ridiculous as you went through the last few days of your pregnancy.

And fucking hell, your back was killing you.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Maverick suggested as you wiped down the countertops. “You’ve been walking around all morning.”

“I'm fine, Mav.”

“Did you sleep well last night?”

“No,” you muttered, tossing the paper towel into the trash. “I couldn’t get comfortable.”

“Maybe you should try taking a nap.”

“I’m fine, Mav,” you repeated as the laundry machine went off. Waddling over despite Maverick's call that he could fold the laundry, you rested a hand on your back. “I'm just a little restless.”

“I’ll fold all of that. You should eat.”

Sending Maverick an annoyed look, you handed off the laundry and made you way over to the couch. While Maverick was focused on the laundry, you let out a quiet moan of pain, leaning having on the couch. Resting your hand on your back, you took a few deep breaths before sitting down. You kicked your feet up just as Penny walked through the door.

“How are you feeling today, Mama?” Penny asked, walking over to you with a container of food. 

“Pregnant. Very pregnant.”

“You’re in the final stretch now," Penny assured you, offering a maternal smile. "And I brought you some food. It shouldn’t get your heartburn to act up.”

“Thanks.”

Slowly getting up from the couch, you made your way over to the table. Maverick walked over and held the chair for you as you sat down. He had turned into a bit of a helicopter parent over the last week or so and you were too tired to fight him on it. You managed a few bites, before you got up.

"You don't want anymore?"

"I'll be back," you replied, waddling away. "Just need to . . ."

You froze when a gush of liquid suddenly soaked your shorts and pooled on the floor below you. Clutching your bump in fear, you gave Penny and Mav a deer in the headlights look that caused them to jump up and spring into action. Mav steadied you carefully as Penny slowly assessed the situation. 

“Okay, it looks like your water just broke. We need to get you to the hospital. The baby’s coming.”

And you couldn’t help but immediately burst out into tears.  

A.N. And the baby's coming! But just wanted to give everyone a heads up that this story does not end once the baby is born. There's still more to come. Thanks, and I hope you'll stick around for more!

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[redroomreflections]

All These Kisses

All These Kisses

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

The Loud House Au - can be found on a03

Summary: the kisses shared between both women

Note: since y'all keep asking me to upload original and new stuff (eye roll)

Your love language had always been physical touch and quality time, especially spent with Natasha. With six children, two parents-in-law, two dogs, and a cat, there often left no time for either of you to spend any real time with each other. It's amazing how you do it. There's always something going on in your life that pulls you in every direction. Cara and Willow need braces. Of course, let's set an appointment for the only free time you have that week. James has soccer practice—okay, you can switch off on that. You pull into the driveway as Natasha is pulling out. A honk and a wave of acknowledgment are sometimes the only things you get that day.

Save for mornings. Mornings like this are reserved for the both of you. There's a certain level of intimacy that can't be achieved even with sex. Not that either one of you is looking for this to lead to sex. Making out was a lost art that you'd certainly enjoy during times like this. Natasha's warm hands are under your pajama top, mapping the expanse of your back, as you moan into her lips. You're not trying to take this further, but you certainly enjoy this. Natasha is a wonderful kisser, and she makes sure to make you feel loved and wanted, just as you do for her.

Her lips are soft and supple, and she's talented as hell as you push yourself further into her arms. The moment is lost, though, as your alarm goes off. The two of you laugh at each other as you help Natasha find her clothes. This is just another day for the two of you, but it's one of the few moments that you get to share like this.

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

The next opportunity arises in the middle of a conversation with the kids. Natasha is preparing breakfast with the kids, making toast when she takes it out of the oven too soon. She barely reacts, but you notice just in time as you come in for your morning coffee.

"Ah," Natasha frowns, looking down at her thumb as she haphazardly drops the toast onto a plate.

"Careful, baby," you say as you take her hand in yours to inspect her injury. "Not too bad." You grin as you kiss her thumb.

She rolls her eyes with a smirk. "Thanks for the warning," she grins as she pecks your lips before returning to her task.

You watch her for a few seconds more. Gosh, you love that woman.

************ 

Another kiss as you head out of the door. You're running late for work and so she's volunteered to take the kids to school this morning. You thank her as you search for your keys. Somehow they're never where you left them.

"Where are my keys? Have you seen my keys?" You ask as you set your coffee down on the foyer table. Seven people seemingly ignore you as you frantically move about the room. "Cara?"

"Don't look at me," Cara shrugs.

"Charlie?" You look to the girl who often pretended to drive with you or Natasha's keys.

"Did you check your briefcase?" Natasha mumbles as she attempts to put Luke's shoes on. She glances in your direction to see you running around.

"They're not in there," You say with a slight eye roll.

"Just asking, they're usually in your bag," Natasha shakes her head.

"I know and thank you but they're not there," You sigh. Why did this have to happen today? When you have back-to-back meetings with your boss. Making partner at this company has been a goal of yours for a while now. You can't have any mishaps.

"Just take the corvette," Natasha offers.

"And risk dying? I don't know," You frown. The two of you go back and forth for a little longer.

"It's not that bad," Natasha stands to her full height. "It's either that or be late."

"I know I just-" You look down to see Paige staring up at you with a frown on her face.

"Mommy, James called me a potty word." She whined.

"What potty word?" You ask looking over at James who isn't the slightest bit phased by his sister telling on him.

"He called me Poopybutt," Paige scrunched her nose. "I told him that is not my name."

"James, please don't call your sister names," You say as you turn from her. You go over to the hook where your keys could possibly b and find nothing. "We're leaving in a minute, go get in the car." You order. "Where the hell are my keys."

"Oh, you cussed." Paige's eyes widened.

"Hell isn't a curse word, it's in the Bible," Charlie explains as she twirls in her school skirt.

"Mommy did it though," Paige argued.

"Yeah, so did James," Cara reminded her.

"Why is everyone trying to tell on me," James stomped his foot.

"Mom, can you take me to school now please?" Cara asked, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

"She'll take you in a minute," You roll your eyes, patting your pocket and almost giving up until you find Natasha standing near your briefcase with your keys in her hand. She has a knowing smirk on her face. She'd seen them there as she was packing your lunch and thought she'd save you the trouble of searching for them. She knew how stressed out you were for the day. You could tell she was trying to hold her tongue, and not gloat in the moment. "Thanks, baby," You say sheepishly as you step over to her. You grab the keys gently from her hand and peck her lips thankfully. "Love you."

"Love you too, have a good day." She grins, patting your ass as she sends you on your way.

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

Other kisses happen when you're too engrossed in work to leave your computer and she comes in as innocently as she does. First, she rounds the computer, giving you a small wave, before she stands behind your chair. She wraps her arms around you and begins to run her hands over your arms.

"Hey, baby," She purrs. "How much longer do you have?"

"Just a little bit," You mumble. "I have this file here that I need to read through."

"And what do I need to do to get your attention?" She asks.

"You have it," You say, turning to see her grinning widely. "I'm just not finished yet. Why?"

"I miss you that's all," She murmurs as she kisses the side of your head. Those kisses then turn into more. She's kissing your neck, and leaving bites in strategic places while unbuttoning your shirt. She's trying to get you to abandon your work, and it's working.

"Nat, baby," You moan as her warm mouth closes around the shell of your ear.

"Yes, love?"

"You're distracting me," You inform her.

"I'm just kissing my wife," She says.

"I can't focus," You pout.

"Fine," She sighs, pulling away. She sits down near your desk. She looks at you with a playful pout. You've got a lot of work to do, so you decide to leave her be. You could be finished faster.

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

The next kiss is needy. It's the kind you get when you're in the middle of sex. The kind you can't even describe. The kind you get flashbacks from in the middle of your workday.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You chant as your wife's head bobs between your legs. Her tongue is lapping at your cunt, and her hands are holding onto your thighs. You're coming down from your orgasm when she moves up your body. Her face lingers inches away from yours and you can't help but place a hand on the back of her neck to bring her closer. "Kiss me." You beg her. She grins and brings her lips closer, just barely grazing yours. Your hips buck up to hers as she teases you. "Nat," You whine.

"Shh," She whispers against your lips, moving a little closer, but never touching. Her tongue traces your bottom lip, begging for entrance and you oblige. This type of kissing is one of your favorites. You could do it all day long. You could live inside the way Natasha kisses you. You could die a happy woman with your lips against hers.

"I love you," You whimper.

"I love you too." 

[the-froschamethyst4]

Where is My Husband (PT2)

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Ghost x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Fluff, a bit smutty, a bit emotional, kissing, language, married couple, remaking memories, flashbacks,

𖤐Recap: Ghost had unfortunately lost his memory after getting injured. He lost all memory of his wife Y/n, he lost 2 years worth of his memories. His wife tries to help him gain all those memories back of her into his mind.

𖤐 where-is-my-husband (pt1)

—————

—————

Ghost has been going to the physical therapist for about a week now, he’s definitely having trouble moving his arm a lot, the therapist told him not to lift anything heavy for a while at least not in till his feels more confident.

Y/n has also been going with him as well, he just wanted her to come so he could show her that he will be okay.

Y/n was driving them home from one of his appointments, he leaned back in the passenger seat head leaning on the window.

He didn't want to say it...but he felt very useless.

"How many more appointments?" Ghost asked.

"In till you feel comfortable and till you show some signs of improvement."

He groans. "This is annoying," he says.

He's definitely the same ol' Ghost from before leaving for the Military, no patience, and always grumpy.

"It's not annoying, Simon, you need to go so you can become healthy again and so your arm can move like it used to." She says, while pulling into the driveway.

They both got out, Ghost using his key to unlock the door, and both were greeted by Phantom, he meows loudly rubbing his head on Ghost's shin and pawing at Y/n's shoelaces.

She smiles bending down and picking up Phantom. He lets out some loud purrs and rested his head on Y/n's shoulder.

Ghost went to the kitchen to make himself some tea as Y/n followed behind. The doctor had said to keep an eye on him from lifting heavy things, he wasn't even allowed to carry a gallon of milk.

He opens the fridge and tries to grab the gallon of milk, but Y/n put Phantom on his cat tree and grabbed the milk for him.

He signs of annoyance, and looked at Y/n.

"I could have used my other arm."

"It's okay, Simon, I got it for you."

"Don't...I'm not thirsty anymore."

"Oh, stop it, Simon..." Y/n says.

Ghost just rolls his eyes and she set the milk down on the counter, Y/n looked at Ghost and smiled.

Ghost may hardly remember Y/n but he's slowly remembering that sweet smile of hers. Ghost stares at her and then wonders how did someone like her fall for someone like him?

--------

Y/n has to go to the store for groceries, she was getting her jacket on and zipping it up halfway. Simon looks over the couch and saw her getting her shoes on next.

"Y/n? Where are you going?"

"The store-OH! Would you like to come with? I figured you may not want to come but I should have asked instead of assuming."

"No, I'm fine, go on without me," he yawns and turns back to the TV. Y/n grabs her purse and walks to the couch, she leans over and kisses his cheek.

"I'll be back," she whispers and walked out of the house. Simon felt his cheeks heat up.

"Goddammit," Simon says.

Once she was gone, Simon stood up and wondered the house. He found some photo albums and started to look through them. He looked through one that was small, a light pink colored cover, the first photo he flips to was on Y/n on her back with a summer dress, she looks beautiful, it was like the one that sat behind the couch.

He flips to the next page seeing him sitting on a big rock looking at the river, he looked like he was in hiking gear, it must be a date and vacation photo album.

Going on he finds one of both of them in a hot tub together, his right hand held her waist, the other holds the camera, he was smiling but not one that showed his teeth just a small mouth smile, Y/n's arms wrapped around his neck, and she showed a bright smile. This must be an important date or vacation, he then noticed something.

The first photo of her on the picnic blanket her finger were bare but this one in the hot tub, her left ring finger held her wedding ring.

He proposed to her this day.

Flashback

Simon and Y/n had gone to the states and their vacation was in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Simon had rented out a cabin for a week, and in this week, Simon was nervous...he was going to propose to Y/n.

Y/n and Simon were in Gatlinburg enjoying the sights and hiking, it was Y/n's idea to go somewhere in the States, she hasn't been in a while and Ghost hasn't been to the States before.

Simon's left hand was in his pocket messing around with the small black velvet box in his pocket. Y/n was at a wine testing bar as Ghost was behind her, he was making sure she was okay and whatever she wanted Ghost was going to spoil her with whatever she wanted it was all about her this week no one else, not even himself.

She picked out two wines a classic white grape wine and a cotton candy flavored wine. Ghost had bought them for her. Ghost and Y/n were now shopping, Y/n wanted some souvenirs as Ghost just bought a keychain, it was of a black bear with Gatlinburg engraved in it.

They headed back to their cabin and Y/n really wanted to get the hot tub, she packed a swimsuit and Ghost had brought his swimming trunks. They both changed into their swimming gear and Ghost removed the cover on the hot tub and let Y/n go in first.

Then he got in, he sat across from Y/n, she was a little confused on why he was so far.

"Why are you all the way over there?" She asks.

"I...I'm not sure," he chuckles and moves closer to her. He put his arms on the side of the hot tub, one behind Y/n's head and the other was rubbing his fingers together. He looked over his shoulder and saw the black velvet box just peeking out from under his towel.

"What?" She asked, ready to turn around but he stopped her.

"Nothing, hey look at me," he says. She does and giggles at him.

"What?" She asks.

"Just...wanted to look at you that's all," he said, kissing her lips. His hands went to her cheeks and soon fell to her waist pulling her closer to him.

"S-Simon, why so sudden?"

"Why not?" He asks, kissing her some more and he stands up still kissing her and grabbing the black box. "Y/n?"

"Hmm~?" She hums, looking up at him.

"I umm~ I wanted to ask you something...something that's very important."

"Okay...ask away," she smiles.

"Well...when I met you, I was wondering how could someone like you end up with someone like me? How did I get so lucky to have someone like you in my life? Y/n...I want to keep having those thoughts, I've been holding this back for a while because I didn't know the right time, but I think now is the right time to ask," he shows her the black box and she immediately knew what was inside.

She covers her mouth with her hands and waited patiently to open it.

"Will...Will you make me the happiest man on Earth and..." he opens it to show off a beautiful ring. "Marry me?"

"Oh Simon, yes, yes, of course, I will," she hugs him tightly and he was smiling and hugging her back. He slides the ring on her finger and grabs her waist and pulls her closer to him, he other hand, held the camera and took a photo.

"I remember..." Ghost mumbles before flipping to the next photo.

The photo was a bit...scandalous...it was of Y/n, and it was her on the bed, sitting on her knees in some white lingerie, her straps had fallen down and her bra was undone but she held it against her chest to cover herself.

He chuckles and shakes his head.

Next, she was feeding a buffalo at a Zoo they went to, she looked so happy, he could see the ring in the photo, it made him smile even more at the thought of her.

Ghost remembers a random time that just randomly popped in his head. It was of him, and Y/n just lying in bed and talked for a little bit, he doesn't remember the conversation or anything it was just random.

He places the book down and grabbed another album. It was the wedding one, it was white and in big letters in cursive saying 𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒲ℯ𝒹𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 ℴ𝒻 𝒮𝒾𝓂ℴ𝓃 ℛ𝒾𝓁ℯ𝓎 ��𝓃𝒹 𝒴／𝓃 ℒ／𝓃.

The first page the picture was of Y/n getting ready, curlers in her hair, eye masks under her eyes, and she was drinking from a coffee cup while his guess her mom was behind her with her hands on her shoulders.

He turns the page and saw him and his friends smiling at the camera and holding glasses full of liquor, none of them were ready, Simon's shirt was unbuttoned, and his belt was undone.

"What are you looking at?" He heard Y/n's soft voice.

"...Memories," he said, holding up the album.

"Oh...yeah," she places the groceries away and went to the couch sitting next to him as he turns the page.

"What was happening here?" Ghost asked, but he probably knows what's happening.

"Well, Soap had a few too many drinks and wouldn't stop laughing, so Price tried to get him to stop by covering his mouth, but everyone was having fun," she says.

Ghost looks at Y/n's finger seeing the ring.

"I remember how I proposed to you."

She seemed shocked he remembered.

"HUH! Really?!"

"Yeah...we were in Gatlinburg and we both where in the hot tub together and I proposed," she cups his face.

"You remember?"

"Yeah~" he sounded confused maybe he was wrong?

"Oh my god," she hugs him tightly and he hugs her back.

"But...I still don't remember much," he says.

"I understand," she says.

They kept going through the photo albums and he was smiling at the wedding and then Y/n grabbed another vacation album.

"This was us at Bora Bora for our honeymoon," she says.

"Is that-"

"Yeah~" There was a photo Ghost flipped to and it was of Y/n in the water...naked. Ghost looked at her and her face was red, she was embarrassed.

"I mean we were in our own private area, so it didn't matter, but you WANTED a phot after I said no, so many times," she giggles. "We don't show this album a whole lot because of...some of the photos," she confesses.

"I can see why," he flips the page and saw where he was laying in the bed completely bare, and the white sheet rested on his lower half, but you could see his v-line. "I wonder who took this photo?" He says chuckling.

"You took so many of me, I thought I should do some," she says giving him an awkward smile.

The next one was both of them in bed together, Ghost's legs pushed open hers as she laid on her back and covered her red face.

"Did we?"

"We did...you were so adamite on taking a picture of me after doing it," she acted shy.

Most of the photos in this album was always them naked in some way or Ghost embarrassing Y/n, in a good way.

Y/n put the album away and looked at him if he wanted to look at more photo albums or if they wanted to talk about memories instead.

-------

Y/n had made tea for the both of them, as Ghost asked questions and Y/n would answer them.

"Did we ever talk about having kids?"

"A couple of times, but we also talked about how we should be prepared, and finically stabled before we have any," she says.

"I see...when did we move in together?"

"A year after we started dating."

"How did we meet?" He asks.

"We met by Soap and Price, I was Price's friend, and we went to his party together and Soap and him set us up together, we started hanging out, then you asked if we could date, and I said yes."

"Wow Soap was useful for something," he jokes, and Y/n playfully pushed him giggling.

Phantom plopped himself on Ghost's lap and Ghost pets his head as he kept asking questions.

"Do you ever miss me when I was gone?"

"Every time and every day, I will always miss you," she says.

Ghost stares at Y/n as she pets Phantom's head and heard him purring, Simon's and Y/ns hands grazed each other, and she looks up at him.

"I want to...want to kiss you..." he confesses.

"You're allowed to...I am your wife," she reminded him. He moves forward and Phantom jumps from his lap as Ghost cups her face pulling her closer.

His lips landed on hers. She moans into the kiss; his hands went to her waist, and he mumbles in between the kissing.

"You are so beautiful *kiss* gorgeous *kiss* incredible *kiss* and my *kiss* very cute *kiss* sexy *kiss* hot *kiss* wife." He says. He pulls away and looks into her eyes.

Her face was red and bright, she was embarrassed but is also glad he is remembering her.

"S-Simon."

"God...I love you...my wife, my wife, my wife," he repeats and kisses her again.

---Tags---

@ash-tarte

@thisisaphrodite

@mrflyingbanana03

[princess-leaorgana]

What Tieflings Do Chptr 7

Summary: After the takedown of The Absolute, Zelphie finds her city in need of more help and her home destroyed. She won't stop helping, but who can help her?

Rolan x Tav (Zelphie; ~30y.o AFAB, Sorcerer, Tiefling, not really described physically on purpose <3)

M/F

Author's Note: I fucking love tielfings. Along with this being a budding romance/smut/fluff/word vomit fanfiction, it's also my case study in DnD 5e tieflings, how they act, what sets them apart from humans and devils and elves. That being said, I have a few artistic liberties in here as well where I couldn't find a straight answer, if you'll amuse me.

Warnings - Spoilers for Baldur's Gate 3, Smut in this chapter, tiefling racism, little bit of angst

Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six

 ‘Come in.’

Rolan’s study was his little hideaway. Although Zelphie loved being invited there, when she was not, she meant to keep her distance. She meant to give him his privacy, for his studies and experiments were very important to him. However, she had just received an urgent message from Duke Florrick, Zelphie was needed for an expedition to The Cloakwood. This wasn’t the first of these she had been on, Scouts from the Flaming Fist were given a task and Zelphie was given the role of protecting them. Not usually did they run into any issues, but once anyone knew the person escorting the Fist was the person who defeated an Elderbrain and The Dead Three’s Chosen, they never attempted to put up a fight. Zelphie was usually just a bluff. She would report by morning and as the day was already late, so she would have to interrupt him. She opened the door and found him standing, hunched over a desk, dissecting something. She didn’t want to know. He glanced up at her and smiled.

‘Hello you,’ he said and looked back down at his work. She smiled back to him and walked over to his desk to place the letter down, her eyes shifting away from his experiment.

‘Good evening, I miss you,’ she said and Rolan picked up the letter she had placed down and removed a pair of magnifying spectacles from his face. ‘Duke Florrick is sending me on a two day trip to Cloakwood tomorrow. Should be easy, I’ve been there with the Fist before, normal delivery. Mostly walking,’ she said and Rolan read the letter. He glanced up at her when he finished.

‘And you told her no?’ He asked, handing her the letter back. Zelphie frowned and shook her head.

‘Of course not, why would I pass this up?’ She asked him, as if it was an illogical question. It was, as Rolan would always be, perfectly logical. Zelphie wasn’t incredibly well. In fact, she had an appointment with a home visit nurse the next day, which would have to be canceled if she went on this trip. She was also ill, and had been for about a week. She was incredibly tired and would get sick twice a day. She had no fever and had a great appetite. Rolan knew exactly what was wrong with her, and truth be told he was having a hard time with it. Zelphie assumed what was going on but neither of them were talking about it. Any person could see, along with her physical symptoms and her trigger happy sensitivity, that Zelphie was pregnant. Lia and Cal were tip toeing around the subject as well. It would also explain her weight gain, everything fit perfectly into the puzzle. So, naturally, Rolan was not happy for her to go.

‘Because, as lovely as the Flaming Fist are, you are more important than them,’ he told her simply. ‘You are not strong enough right now, my darling,’ he told her and she scowled, pointing her finger at a battle dummy, striking it with a bolt of lightning. The dummy was left singed and toppled over. Rolan frowned, understanding her point instantly. ‘I didn’t mean like that. You know I didn’t. These last few weeks, your magic has been incredibly powerful-‘

‘Then what did you mean?’ She asked him quickly and he sighed.

‘Powerful magic, plus the inability to control it and a weakened body doesn’t make you strong,’ he told her quickly. ‘It makes you weak, you are weak right now, not only could you get hurt, you would do a disservice to the Fist.’ Zelphie crossed her arms, fuming. ‘There are plenty of mercenaries out there who can help while we find out how to make you better,’ he told her and placed his spectacles back on the bridge of his nose.

‘You cannot forbid me to go,’ she told him stubbornly and he nodded.

‘You are correct, but I can wish it. I will be incredibly unhappy if you go, and I may insist on coming with you,’ he told her. It was strange how they had flipped their conversation as of late. Zelphie was now the hot head and Rolan had learned to control his anger, he did it only for Zelphie. Everyone else bore the brunt of it. Poor Cal. ‘I will write to Florrick on your behalf, if you are feeling guilty, I know that’s why you are upset,’ he told her and she huffed. He was right, and that was annoying. This wasn’t an incredibly important journey, any ranger in the city could assist. Zelphie still felt like she owed her city something. He glanced up at her, waiting for her argument. She didn’t have one. She just didn’t like him telling her what to do. He was absolutely correct, but she was struggling to accept that. ‘I will write to Florrick,’ he settled and went back to his work. Zelphie stomped her foot and turned around to leave. ‘I love you,’ Rolan called and she grumbled back at him. She wanted to hit him. 

He was right, she had no right putting herself and others in danger. But what was the point of her anymore if she wasn’t to do anything? Besides a little check-up the next day, she had nothing. She could easily have stayed in Rolan’s office and either helped or learned something, but she was in a terrible mood. So, she would do what her body was telling her, go and eat.

Lia was in the kitchen, apparently having the same idea as Zelphie, she was picking at some sort of leg, probably a cow. Lia turned and looked at her, sucking something off of her thumb.

‘You look pissed,’ she said bluntly and Zelphie walked to the ice box and rummaged. She wanted something sour.

‘Because I am,’ she said back and Lia sighed.

‘When is your appointment again? Please tell me it’s in two minutes,’ she said and rolled her eyes and Zelphie shot a look at her. She slammed the ice box door and walked out of the kitchen and headed to the main living area. She should have gone to her room, since her mood was only getting worse, but that’s where she stomped off to. She sat on a large sofa and crossed her arms, angry as a toddler before their nap. Lajy wandered into the room, his tail up and curled over and he hustled to his mother. He always had impeccable timing. Zelphie broke down into tears and opened her arms for the cat, who purred in her lap and rubbed himself on her furiously. He was a lovely boy, terribly cuddly when he was needed.

‘You’re on my side, aren’t you Lajy?’ She asked the cat and she cried, rubbing his head. She laid on her side and cuddled him, crying and listening to him purr. ‘You don’t hate me, do you?’ She asked and the cat butted her head with his and she kissed his forehead. She just let herself cry and be comforted by the cat, looking down at her hand, rubbing her emerald for comfort. She knew deep down no one in the tower hated her. She was being very hard to live with. Still, for the past dozen days, Zelphie was no longer privy to the intelligent part of her brain. Only paranoid, raw emotions. She wasn’t alone for very long before Rolan appeared in the living room. She closed her eyes, refusing to look at him. She felt him walk over, his heavy robes making a low swishing sound with every footstep. He knelt down in front of her and placed a gentle hand on her head.

‘Would you enjoy a little fresh air with me?’ He asked her and she sniffed and opened her eyes. He looked so tired, but he was smiling at her.

‘Are you going for a walk?’ She asked him and he nodded.

‘I need to clear my head and air out my office. I hoped you would want to join me,’ he told her, knowing the exact right thing to say. She kissed Lajy’s head, still crying a little.

‘Come little one, walk with mummy and daddy,’ she said and Rolan’s smile grew. He stood up and helped her up. She hugged him tight as soon as she was up and she felt his arms around her. ‘I love you too, Rolan,’ she said and he laughed lightly and kissed her forehead.

The day went on like normal, Rolan did go back to his studies, but Zelphie felt better and had a cup of tea with Lia. The sisters teased each other and Lia got a little game going to try to see how many times she could make Zelphie laugh before Zelphie would either cry, lose control of her bladder, or at least fall over. Losing control of her bladder went first, and Zelphie excused herself for the night. 

In the morning, for her appointment Zelphie dressed in a light wrap dress for the cleric’s ease. Rolan brought the cleric up to their bedroom to inspect Zelphie. He genuinely hated bringing strangers up this far in the tower, but it was a medical necessity, he would allow it for Zelphie’s privacy. The cleric was an older woman, a human, which made Zelphie a little uncomfortable, but the woman was kind and soft.

‘Your husband told me all of your symptoms the other day, and normally I make my visits fast, but after we spoke, I really don’t think this is much of an emergency,’ she explained and placed her bag on the bed. ‘Go on and lay down for me,’ she said and Zelphie did as she was told. Rolan walked closer but attempted to stay out of the way. ‘Master Rolan says you are tired, emotional, you're up sick a lot?’ She asked and Zelphie nodded.

‘Yes,’ she said simply and the cleric laid both of her hands on Zelphie’s stomach and pressed gently. The woman smiled and closed her eyes. Zelphie instantly felt warm and a faint yellow glow appeared by the woman’s fingers and on Zelphie’s stomach. The glow and warmth went away after a moment and the woman laughed a little. ‘I don’t know you from the freckles on my elbow, but my guess is that this is your first, sweetie,’ she said softly. ‘You can get up now, we’re done here,’ she said and Zelphie frowned. She got up and looked at Rolan. ‘Actually, why don’t you two take a seat,’ she said and Rolan sat next to Zelphie and took her hand. Once all was settled, the woman clasped her hands together. ‘It’s my honor to tell you that you have a wee one on the way.’ Zelphie’s mind went blank. Rolan was looking down at her, the woman was still speaking, but she couldn’t get past that. A baby. A wee one. She was pregnant. How could that be? She couldn’t be a mother. No, not her. Lajy was her baby, not an actual baby. How could she have a baby?

The poor cleric was still speaking, but Zelphie wasn’t understanding anything. She placed a hand on her belly and looked over at Rolan, who was just staring at her. She couldn’t really read his face, his eye contact was intense and his jaw was a little tight. He looked as though he was going to pop. He looked back at the cleric and responded to a question she had asked, but Zelphie kept looking at him, at his profile. His strong brow, his sharp jaw, the way his fangs caught the light as he spoke. He was going to be a father, a father to her child. Not just any baby, hers. He had gotten her pregnant. She would make him a father. Rolan stood up and Zelphie blinked, taken out of her trance.

‘Well, this will be my most pleasant visit today, that is for certain,’ she said as Rolan walked her out.

‘I don’t think I could use those same words myself, your visit today was nothing short of a miracle. A visit for a lifetime, thank you,’ he said and the cleric left, quicker than she had come. With that little visit, Zelphie’s whole world had changed. The door to their bedroom shut and Rolan turned around. Zelphie stood off of the bed and walked over to him and he held up a hand to stop her. She stopped and was nervous. He walked over to her. ‘No more walking for you,’ he said and very quickly and with little effort, he scooped Zelphie up, cradling her and walking her right back to bed. She squeaked as she was lifted suddenly.

‘Rolan!’ She squealed and he placed her on the bed, but before anything else, he kissed her. He was happy. She was very happy but had almost forgotten about Rolan. She didn’t know if he wanted children, he had never seemed like a man who liked children. Though, that was a shallow thought. Rolan was a hero to all of the refuge tiefling children in Baldur’s Gate. It was he who saved all of them in the Shadowfell. He was obviously a family man, but a man who would coo over a little baby? She wasn’t so sure. A man who wanted a little one? She had no idea. Now she had some kind of feeling he might have wanted that. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed into their kiss.

‘Oh my darling, my love,’ he muttered, kissing her. ‘I can’t believe this, I knew it, but I still can’t believe it,’ he said, his voice shaking. She pulled away and placed her hands on his face. His face contorted and he sobbed. ‘I never ever thought this would be my life,’ he said through tears and hers followed immediately. ‘Thank you, thank you,’ he placed his forehead onto hers and she laughed as she cried.

‘Oh Rolan, I’m so happy. You really want a child? A little snotty baby that will grow into a grubby little toddler?’ She asked and his wavered smile just grew. He nodded.

‘If that child is my child with my Zelphie, by gods yes,’ he said and sniffed and she kissed him once more. Their lips crash together, all of their emotions coming out physically. As they kissed, Zelphie’s legs hooked around Rolan’s. Rolan sat up and with ease of his forefinger, unwrapped Zelphie’s dress. She bit her lip and looked up at him, but he was looking at her body. He placed his hand where the cleric had and Zelphie grinned. ‘Is she here?’ He asked softly, his voice shaking. She. Zelphie sniffed and took his hand and moved it down, under her navel. ‘Right, right, that makes sense,’ he said and leaned down. He kissed her skin and Zelphie could have melted. ‘Hello in there,’ he whispered and Zelphie was a puddle, crying again. This was a wonderful moment. She’d never been happier, not for a long, long time.

‘Oh Rolan,’ she said softly and ran her hand through his hair, but he wasn’t done talking to the hard little spot under her navel.

‘I hope you can hear me, you and I need to have a little chat. Listen, you’ve been making your mother an emotional wreck, and I won’t tolerate that kind of behavior in this home,’ he went off and Zelphie screamed a laugh. Rolan felt silly doing it, which was not something he ever liked doing, but it made her laugh. ‘You’ll behave or I promise I will come in there,’ he said and that sent Zelphie over the edge. She kicked, her tears now from the uncontrollable laughter.

‘Rolan! Stop!’ She begged through tears and laughter. He chuckled and crawled back up to her and kissed her neck, tickling her. ‘Rolan!’ She squealed and he lifted his head enough to speak into her ear.

‘I love you,’ he said and she wrapped her arms around him.

‘I love you more,’ she told him, and he nipped at her earlobe and she sighed happily. ‘Mmmm…when you bite me, it’s like a little brand, right?’ She asked and he hummed in response, nipping and kissing her skin. ‘And you always make sure it’s in an area I can hide, like my thigh or my back or my bum,’ she said and he hummed again. ‘Pretty soon, one of your little marks will be very hard to hide,’ she told him playfully and he lifted her head to look at her properly. ‘The baby,’ she explained and Rolan leaned down and kissed her lips. The baby would grow and it would become very obvious to everyone around. Zelphie was very happy about it, but Rolan would be warned that proof of their sex life was about to be public. Clearly, he didn’t care. She felt his finger loop around her underwear and pull on them gently. Zelphie lifted her hips so he could remove them. He kissed down her neck and she purred loudly for him. She was stupidly happy, delirious with joy. 

‘Oh,’ she cooed as she felt Rolan’s fingers in her middle. He was delicate with his fingers, careful of his claw as his forefinger stroked her. She was incredibly sensitive. That was just fine with Rolan. Her hips pushed against his fingers a little and she felt his fangs digging into her collarbone. She hissed and her hips bucked again. Her tail curled up between his legs and rubbed up against him. She cursed his robes, he always had to dress so well. He moaned softly but continued his work, stimulating her clit, and making a mess of her collarbone. She ground her hips and he chuckled.

‘Don’t you tell me you’re already so undone,’ he muttered and tutted playfully. She rubbed herself against him, begging for more. ‘My darling is soaking, is that what I do to you, hm?’

‘Yes Rolan, you ruin me,’ she whimpered. She was desperate. The phenomenal news was coursing through her and evolving into pure instinct. His dominance, taking complete control over her and the situation. She was turned on more than she could remember ever being. She was so in love with Rolan, but the added situation that he had impregnated her was scratching an itch she didn’t know she had. She always felt a flutter when Rolan showed off his power, magical and physical, but this? She’d never thought of him more powerful. It took two to make a baby, but in one action, Rolan changed her life for good. Forever.

‘Let us just see how sensitive my little wife is,’ he said and she whimpered. ‘Shhhh…no need to beg, I’m here,’ he said and kissed down her torso. She opened her eyes and looked down at him. He was so beautiful. She was hyper focused on his face as she breathed through the warm sensation she was feeling. His eyes flashed to hers as he lowered his face to her middle. She felt light headed. He ran his tongue firmly from her hole to her clitoris and her eyes rolled back into her heat. Just hearing him licking her, up and down, was sending her over the edge. Her tail was coiled tightly around his upper thigh. ‘So needy,’ he muttered, holding her thighs down and open for him. She sighed, as if gasped for air. She was terribly close.

‘Oh gods dammit,’ she muttered. That familiar tingle in her toes, a warmth rushed over her. He was barely doing a damn thing. His hands on her thigh refused to move as she attempted to writhe her hips and the legs. He did make sure now to just give her clot attention, his warm breath quick as his tongue. She wanted it but she was a little angry he had gotten her so quickly. ‘Rolan,’ she whimpered and grabbed one of his horns to brace herself, as he pinned her to the bed. Warm, wet ecstasy ran through her, gushing from her. Normally, Rolan would slow down, allowing her to ride out her orgasm, but his new ego wasn’t going to let her go. She kicked as he kept going. His one hand was holding down on her mound, making sure she didn’t slip from him, spreading her lips as he tormented her.

‘Relax,’ he whispered, not removing his mouth from her. Her hips bucked and she howled, her hips bucking, and he laughed.

‘Ro,’ she whimpered. He finally let her go and her body convulsed. Electricity shot out of her fingertips, little sparks and Rolan growled happily.

‘Beautiful, that’s my girl,’ he sat up and wiped his face. She caught her breath and he laughed again. ‘What a mess,’ he tutted and she felt the burn marks she had left on the sheets. She felt guilt, but her euphoria was so much higher. She caught her breath and he gently traced her thigh with his claw, making her shiver and twitch.

‘Rolan,’ she whimpered and he smiled. ‘Damn you,’ she said and he smirked. She placed her hand on her forehead. He just watched her, watched his work, reveling in what he had done to Zelphie. She looked up at him and tilted her head at him. ‘Are you going to make a mess with me?’ She asked. He was fully dressed, his hair was a little messier than before. He grinned and tilted his head back.

‘What do you mean by that?’ He asked her, his voice so soft and low. She pouted up at him. He laughed again. ‘Was that not enough?’ He asked her and got up on her elbows.

‘Are you going to make me beg? Me? Your pregnant wife?’ She asked and Rolan’s face fell. He cleared his throat and regained his composure. He knew she was guilting him, but the phrase his pregnant wife stopped his heart. He took her hand and leaned over to kiss it. Zelphie pulled his hand. She wanted to kiss him. She got what she wanted. His lips crashed to hers and she got her hand wedged between their bodies, finding his erection through his robes. He sighed softly into her mouth. He sat up a little, fussing with his robes, pushing them up enough so he could quickly enter her. Zelphie gasped, not thinking he wouldn’t even get undressed. He thrusted quickly, watching her bounce under him. ‘Fuck, fuck,’ she cried and Rolan placed his forehead on hers and she bit her bottom lip, keeping eye contact with him. ‘I love you, I love you,’ she whispered and he groaned, quickening his pace. This was perfect for her, Rolan selfishly rutting on her. He had the length, the girth and the texture of a teifling, so it felt incredible, but she liked it when he acted like this. Desperate, untamed. She couldn’t explain it, but him fucking her, desperate for an orgasm, for a release, it excited her to no end. The sounds he made, the way he held her, his claws in her hips. She could smell him. She closed her eyes and she felt his hand on her neck.

‘Look at me,’ he said, his voice gruff. Her orange eyes opened to see his yellow ones looking right back. His brows were knitted together in concentration. She kept eye contact until his eyes shut.

‘I love you,’ she told him, knowing he was close. ‘I love you, Rolan,’ she moaned and kissed his neck. His hand on her hip and his hand on her neck tightened. A guttural moan and shiver came from him and after two hard thrusts, he slowed dramatically. She leaned up to kiss him and he kissed her back, softly, he was spent. She giggled and rubbed her legs against his. He peppered her face with little kisses and she continued to giggle.

‘All mine, mine, mine,’ he whispered and she nuzzled her nose to his.

‘No, mine,’ she said and caught his lips once more. He sat up with a groan and gave her backside a little pat. 

‘Well, now that that is out of my system,’ he said and she laughed. He looked her over as he pulled his robes back down to cover himself again. ‘You and I have some planning and chatting to do,’ he said and she sat up with him, covering herself up.

‘Oh? Chatting about what?’ She asked him and reached over to fix a lock of his hair.

‘About you, and myself, we’re going to need to change how things are run here, certainly. I can have you in the shop still, but…’ he began and she frowned. Uhoh. ‘No more…excursions,’ he told her, it was a kind request, or demand, but Zelphie did frown. ‘I don’t want to argue about this, so please, let me explain myself. I’m not trying to control you, although, truly, sometimes I wish I could,’ he expressed and her brows furrowed. ‘But…you cannot be, you and I are very different people. You go and you have friends and you have your adventures, and I do love that about you. I love that we are different. You’ve shown me a different way of life. Since we met, you have shown me how to…’ he sighed and shook his head. ‘And I have tried to give you your life. I wish for you to do what you want, be independent, but now…’ Zelphie watched him carefully. Rolan was correct, as controlling and brooding as he was, the homebody, the sage, he did allow her whatever freedoms she wanted. She knew it killed him for her to be gone for days on end. Once or twice she had come back in worse shape than she had left and she knew he hated it. But he, as much as someone like Rolan could, bit his tongue. He had compromised with her every single time, with little arguments every once and a while. ‘I don’t-’ he cleared his throat and held her hands. ‘I don’t want to put you in a box, in a display case, don’t think that’s what I am asking. But…when I don’t know where you are, I can’t breathe,’ he said and rubbed her knuckles. Zelphie’s face softened a little.

‘I used to live worse than this,’ she assured him and he sighed.

‘I know, but that doesn’t mean you should go back. Would you be very happy if I returned to Avernus?’ He asked her quickly and she stared up at him. ‘I survived Avernus, so surely, I can survive everything, is that what you think?’ She shook her head. ‘I’m not saying you are not capable, but if capability meant one hundred percent success every single time…well, that can’t be. You will get hurt, you have gotten hurt. One day, that hurt might…’ he trailed off and chewed his lip. ‘Yesterday, losing you meant a lot of pain for me. And of course Lia and Cal and all of your friends, but I only cared about my pain. Now? Darling, I don’t want for our child what was given to us,’ he said and Zelphie just looked at him. She looked down for a moment. ‘When I picture myself as a parent, I picture myself giving every single thing on this planet I can to my child, would you promise the same?’

‘Of course I do,’ she said and her mind rattled. He was absolutely correct. She was preparing for a little fight, one where she would win, he couldn’t tell her what to do. She was not his caged pet, she was his partner. But his point, like usual, was logical. She was having a baby, making her a mother. Her priorities needed to shift. It wasn’t about her anymore, or even Rolan. She placed her hand on her lower belly. ‘I…you’re right,’ she said softly and she felt Rolan’s lips on her forehead.

‘And don’t think for a moment that I’m excluded in that. My work will take a step back. No longer will I be locked away in my study, all hours of the day, though, I will admit, I do need to take up reading on a subject I have yet to ever read on,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘I’ll be more present, I’ll make you sick of me,’ he told her and she smiled a little.

‘I suppose the man with every script written in Faerun needs to go book shopping,’ she said and he laughed.

‘Indeed,’ he said and rubbed her hand.

‘I promise to…act a bit more like a mother might,’ she said and Rolan shook his head.

‘You already have fantastic maternal instincts,’ he told her and she smiled a little. ‘You are the most loving person I have ever met, giving selfless. The reason you want for your adventures is to help others,’ he explained and she buried her face in his shoulder and he laughed again. ‘Don’t feel like you need to give me any credit either,’ he said as he wrapped his arms around her. Zelphie laughed and shook her head.

‘You know well enough you have much more parental instinct than I do,’ she said and looked up at him. ‘You at least know what family feels like, I’m very new to it, and I only have it because of you,’ she told him and he leaned down to kiss her. 

‘And before anything else, there is one more thing I would like to ask you,’ he said and Zelphie just looked up at him. ‘Before you become the only one in this whole tower entitled to ask for anything, of course,‘ he said and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. ‘Could we tell Cal and Lia?’ He asked and she blinked a few times, waiting for the favor. It never came, that was it. She threw back her head and laughed.

‘Yes! You idiot!’ She laughed and he grinned. She stood up quickly, fixing herself, her linen dress completely ruined by their little romp. He got up with her and helped her and she fixed his cowl. ‘They probably already know,’ she said and the couple walked out hand in hand. Cal and Lia most certainly already knew. Everyone knew. Zelphie knew very well, as did Rolan. They knew about her appointment, and were waiting impatiently in the sitting room. Lia had her arms crossed and was pacing. Cal was staring out a window. They both swiveled to Rolan and Zelphie’s attention when they entered. Cal hurried right over, his eyes darting between his brother and sister-in-law.

‘Well?’ He asked and Zelphie’s heart beat quickly. Zelphie looked up at Rolan. She was going to burst, but they were his siblings. He would have the honors. Rolan smiled and looked down at Zelphie and then over to his brother and sister. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lia jumped in.

‘YOU’RE PREGNANT!’ She shouted and put her hands over her mouth. Usually Lia was boisterous, but that had clearly been an exciting accident. Thank goodness she had been correct.

‘Yes, thank you, Lia,’ Rolan said, his face falling into an annoyed frown. Lia enveloped her brother into a hug quickly and Rolan hugged her back. Zelphie watched the pair before she got her own hug, a big one from Cal. Zelphie hugged him back.

‘Thank you for making me an uncle,’ he said happily and Lia squealed, hugging Rolan tighter and he groaned.

‘Aunt Lia and Uncle Cal! Oh! And mommy and daddy, oh I can not believe it!’ She squealed and kissed Rolan’s cheeks. Rolan got out of her hug and pushed her away gently.

‘Would you give me a little room for air?’ He asked his sister, who just took to hugging Zelphie. Zelphie welcomed the hugs and kisses and Cal hugged Rolan. Zelphie just hugged Lia tight.

‘Good thing you two didn’t have a wedding, saves money for baby, oh I’m so excited! When? How far along are you? Oh! Are you feeling alright? You should sit,’ Lia rambled and Zelphie laughed.

‘I don’t know, I didn’t ask, it feels early though,’ she said as Lia pulled her to sit on the couch. ‘But I’m fine, a little tired, but fine. Not like I thought it would be,’ she said and looked up at Rolan, who was just beaming.

‘I’ll go get something bubbly from the kitchen,’ Cal said and then faltered a little. ‘Oh, uhm…can..c-can you have something bubbly?’ He asked and Zelphie grinned.

‘No, no she can’t,’ Rolan said and Zelphie huffed. Rolan looked down at her. ‘And I won’t either,’ he said before she could argue. Lia sat with Zelphie and put a hand in hers.

‘Then none of us will, it’s fine,’ she said and squeezed Zelphie’s hand.

‘You three are absolutely too much,’ Zelphie sighed. She was incredibly lucky.

For the next few days, Zelphie and Rolan could be called obsessed with their new journey. Rolan spent a lot of money on not only items for the baby, but many things for Zelphie as well, different potions and foods and drinks and oils for her to keep strong, happy and healthy. If Zelphie had thought he was overbearing before, she’d never thought about him like this. A lot of it was too much for her to deal with, hovering over her like a hawk, giving her unwanted advice over everything, like he usually was but harder. Though, it came with a lot of perks, like taking care of her and being around more often. Rolan’s sexual appetite was still alive and well, but he was so much softer and caring. He was very caring, nurturing to Zelphie, taking care of her in the bath, rubbing her back and staying by her side when she was sick, massaging her before bed, all of it. She certainly wouldn’t complain as she was pampered.

A hot afternoon hit Baldur’s Gate as Zelphie was obsessing over what was her previous room. She had used the room for about twenty days in total before sharing a bedroom with Rolan, now it was just a room for her privacy. It went unused mostly. Zelphie was now found here most of the time. Lajy was with her as she was tending to a little garden area on the balcony. Tiefling babies had a very careful diet, and Zelphie was very happy to grow herbs and vegetables to help with the little ones’ diet and health. Six months wasn’t the longest time to plan. In the corner of the bedroom, Zelphie’s mage hands were knitting a yellow blanket. She was also very happy to make things for the little one, where Rolan would purchase. Some things Zelphie couldn’t make, but a few pillows and blankets and nappies were doable. A knock on the door and Zelphie stood up to see Lia in the doorway.

‘Hey, I was hoping we could go for a walk?’ Lia suggested and Zelphie smiled and nodded.

‘I would love that, all done for today?’ She asked and wiped her hands of dirt and Lia nodded.

‘Yes, and the last couple that came in did me in, they were bitching about every single thing in the world, I need to cool off,’ she said and Zelphie grinned.

‘Did you bite their heads off?’ She asked, removing her apron and Lia laughed.

‘You know I’ll get in trouble, so I just gave them to Cal and walked away,’ she said and Zelphie snickered.

‘Oh, and I’m sure they’re in love with him now,’ she said and Lia nodded. The two left the tower and began their walk down the Upper City. 

‘I could have scratched their eyes out!’ Lia was still going on about the older couple who had come into the shop. Zelphie was just letting her rant, that was all that was needed. Zelphie worked with the public before and had her share of stories about problem customers. Though, some of her problem customers would have been abusers, so Zelphie would keep those stories to herself. She never told Cal and Lia about her previous work, before the kidnapping. She had barely mentioned it to Rolan once and he almost lost it.

‘Maybe one of these days you should, what did they even want?’ Zelphie asked, getting a little distracted with the smell of food in the marketplace. Her tail curled up a little.

‘I couldn’t tell you if I tried, it was as if every single time they asked a question and I answered them, they were looking for something completely new! It was awful, I’m working the counter tomorrow, fuck Rolan’s unperson,’ she said and Zelphie snorted.

‘Hellspawn!’

From the crowded rows of people, a few onlookers decided to take time out of their day to terrorize the tieflings. Rocks were thrown at their feet. Normally, Zelphie wouldn’t leave the Upper City for this reason, though racism was strong in all of Baldur’s Gate, the Upper City residents usually never shouted or got violent. They were not kind, but never violent. Today was different, for some reason. Lia wiped her head to find two men, calling at them, more putrid words of hate. Lia reached down for the thrown stones but Zelphie held her back.

‘Lia! No, no no, come on, leave it,’ she begged, pulling in Lia. Lia resisted, always in the mood for a fight, but after stress from work, she was like a time bomb.

‘I’ll show you Hellspawn!’ She shouted back at them.

‘Lia! Stop! Don’t fight back,’ Zelphie begged. Normally, Zelphie would live to fight back, but it was common knowledge that if either one of them got into a public fight, they would be arrested. Tieflings just weren’t welcome anywhere. ‘Think of your brother,’ she said and Lia put her hand down, dropping the rock. ‘Thank you, come on, come on, let’s find something to drink,’ she said and pulled Lia from the crowd. Lia grumbled and Zelphie held her close as they walked. ‘I know, trust me, I know,’ she said.

‘Fucking two tieflings saving the goddamned world wasn’t enough for those people?’ Lia went on, she sounded like she was going to cry. Zelphie laughed.

‘Unfortunately, one of those tieflings took her tiefling family and gave them the best real estate in the city. That on its own is a crime. They only mourn Karlach because she died. A dead tiefling is a behaved tiefling,’ Zelphie went on and Lia sighed. ‘For your brother’s sake, we really have to behave. His ownership of the tower can very well be easily contended, don’t give them any excuse, Lia,’ she said and walked Lia into a beautiful tavern, the Vicor, to try and steal her nerves. Zelphie wasn’t doing too well either, she was very easily rattled lately, so this little hide was for both her and Lia.

‘I’m doing it for your sake,’ Lia said as they sat down. ‘I don’t give a rat’s ass about the tower,’ she grumbled and Zelphie shook her head.

‘Liar,’ she said and Lia huffed. ‘I mean it, the tower means everything to all of us. It’s safety. It’s growth, literally. You’d be very upset if you couldn’t live there anymore, I know that,’ she said as a barmaid walked over. Zelphie ordered water and lemon and Lia ordered an ale.

‘I’d rather no one throw rocks at us in the street,’ she hissed and Zelphie nodded.

‘I like to think once my belly gets a little bigger they might stop…but I doubt it,’ Zelphie said and reached over for Lia’s hand. ‘Might get worse…I never used to get that around here though,’ she muttered and Lia nodded.

‘Maybe there really is no place for us,’ Lia grumbled.

The two settled over a drink. Lia went back to complaining about her work, and then the topic lightened to talk about the baby. Lia was very excited. She was convinced all of her normal anger would manifest into love for the new little one. Lia asked twice if it was already kicking, which sent Zelphie into a fit of giggles each time. Of course not, two months would not a kicking baby make. Zelphie paid and left extra, to Lia’s annoyance, but Zelphie would always do it. Maybe one day it would soften the hearts of Baldur’s Gate to tieflings. At least the privileged ones. They continued their walk, and were heading home when Zelphie noticed a little something odd. A newspaper hawker  was shouting out a headline, something about a new guest from Neverwinter. Zelphie walked over to the young boy, who immediately stopped his little performance.

‘Oh, ah…you want a paper, miss?’ He asked and Zelphie smiled.

‘Absolutely, I can’t believe I didn’t know about some dignitary visit,’ she said and handed the little one a gold piece.

‘Oh, well, I uhm…you aren’t one of those tiefling wizards, are you?’ The boy asked and Zelphie frowned. ‘From the tower?’ He asked and Zelphie nodded.

‘Yes I am,’ Zelphie said and the boy frowned.

‘You shouldn’t buy this paper, miss,’ he said softly. ‘They didn’t write anything good about you in it,’ he said and Lia laughed.

‘Oh! Finally, a paper that doesn’t mention Zelphie’s heroism, Baldur’s Gate is healing,’ she said and Zelphie looked at Lia.

‘I don’t think that’s what he meant,’ she said and looked back down, holding her hand out. ‘I’ll take my paper, please,’ she said and the boy gave her the paper.

‘Just don’t be angry with me, they just pay me to sell it,’ he said and Zelphie nodded and she and Lia walked a little. Zelphie began to read through the paper, skimming until the third page.

‘Oh for fucks sake,’ she muttered and pulled onto Lia’s hand so they could hustle back to the tower. ‘This is why those brutes felt so bold earlier,’ Zelphie muttered, handing Lia the paper. The two entered the tower quickly, brushing past the entrance and there he was. The paper had an article from a guest writer, a writer who wanted Rolan and his family removed from Ramazith’s Tower. The writer had a few opinions on Rolan, one being he was a brutal homicidal maniac who killed Lorroakan in cold blood, for no other reason than his infernal blood. Tieflings were never lucky, tieflings did not rise to the top, clearly, this was devil work.

Rolan didn’t look up at his sister or wife when they entered. He had read the paper, Zelphie could tell. He was staring at the floor, his hands behind his back. Zelphie walked over to him and reached out for him.

‘Ro,’ she whispered and he slowly looked her in the eye. ‘Ro, it doesn’t matter,’ she told him and he shook his head, looking back down at the ground.

‘When will we ever be safe?’ He asked her softly. ‘I’ve put a target on our backs,’ he continued and Zelphie shook her head.

‘It’s one person out of thousands, please, Rolan, don’t think like that. We are incredibly safe, because of you,’ she told him, placing a hand on his cheek. ‘No one can come here, no one, me and Lia and Cal are safe because of you. And we have the power of the Council on our side, Rolan. They can’t take this from us,’ she continued, but knew there would be nothing that could put him at ease. The truth was, Rolan, along with others including Zelphie, had murdered the rightful owner of the tower. Rolan did not have any right to claim this historical building, other than he defeated its master.

‘That won’t stop a revolution in the streets,’ Rolan said and Zelphie frowned.

‘It will, I will write to Duke Ravengard, he will fix this,’ she told him and that seemed to irritate him.

‘He can’t just keep being our hero, Zelphie,’ he snapped. ‘I broke it, I must fix it,’ he argued and she scowled.

‘No Rolan! You can’t keep thinking that this is Elturel or Avernus, we live in a community now. A thriving community,’ she argued back. ‘Sometimes you are entitled to being helped,’ she told him and he sighed.

‘Zelphie is right, Rolan. You can help this family by asking for help. This isn’t going to be solved with the four of us alone. When Zelphie and I were on our walk, these two men-‘ Zelphie whipped around and hushed Lia. Rolan looked up at Lia and his brows knitted together. 

‘What?’ He asked and Zelphie sighed.

‘Gods dammit, Lia,’ she scowled, but Lia continued.

‘They were shouting at us and were throwing rocks, I’m sure this article had something to do with it,’ Lia said and Zelphie glared at her. She didn’t enjoy keeping things from Rolan, but he was already in a state, she would eventually tell him. Eventually.

‘Who was this?’ He asked quickly and Lia shrugged.

‘Just two men, trust me, I tried to fight back, but Zelphie refused. Good thing too, as it might have proven this writer’s point,’ she sighed and Rolan looked down at Zelphie.

‘Are you hurt?’ He asked and she shook her head.

‘No, they had bad aim,’ she said and Lia laughed. ‘It’s not the worst thing someone has hurled at me,’ she reassured Rolan, who was not very reassured. He sighed, but he nodded and looked back down at the floor. Zelphie looked at the spot he was staring at. She knew that spot very well. It was the last place his old master had been, where his corpse had lain. Her hand left his cheek and she took his hand. She didn’t know what to say to him as he reached up and rubbed his temple.

‘I need…to think,’ he said and looked at Zelphie, who frowned but nodded.

‘Call for me if you need me,’ she told him, assuming he would want to be alone. He looked at her in silence for a moment and nodded. ‘I love you,’ she told him and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He grasped the side of her head tightly as he did so, and it broke her heart when he walked away.

‘He’ll be fine,’ Lia told Zelphie, who just nodded and shook her head.

‘I know, I know, I just hate to see him so upset that he won’t even argue,’ she said and Lia smiled.

‘Sometimes I forget how well you fit into our family,’ she said and Zelphie smiled at her.

Zelphie continued to tend to her little garden after a ‘light’ snack, a whole six ounce slab of beef. Lajy brought her a dead mouse. At least one of them was productive that day. While Zelphie had her fingers in the soil, she felt a little buzzing on her finger. She lifted her hands and stared at her right hand. Her wedding ring was buzzing, humming. She looked at it curiously. Then she heard something. She held her hand close to her pointed ear and listened. The ring, while humming and buzzing, was crying. Crying? How could it be crying? Why was it crying? Why did it sound like Rolan? Zelphie looked at her ring again, just as she did at least once a day, but really inspected it. She waved her left hand over it, trying to see if she could feel whatever magic might be causing this. There was magic, but nothing that Zelphie could recognize. She walked out of her room and the crying got louder. She opened her bedroom door, it was empty. She walked upstairs and heard the crying get louder. It was certainly Rolan. She walked to his study, and the ring got louder. She knocked gently and then opened the door.

‘Rolan?’ She called and walked in. She looked at his desk and saw Rolan hunched over it, sobbing. A half drunk glass of wine beside him. She walked over to him quickly. ‘Oh Rolan, my love,’ she called and wrapped her arms around him. He heaved a loud sob. ‘Oh my darling,’ she muttered and knelt next to him. He had his head buried in his arms. He placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Hey, hey look at me,’ she told him softly.

‘I-I c-can’t do a damn thing,’ he sobbed and lifted his head. Zelphie hugged him tight and kissed the side of his face. ‘I can’t save us,’ he sobbed into her neck, holding her a little too tightly.

‘Shhh….we are okay, we are okay. You know where I was just a moment ago?’ She asked as he just cried into her shoulder. She felt awful. She had seen him cry to himself twice before, but this was something different. He was devastated and stressed beyond measure. ‘I was tending the baby’s garden, out of the balcony. I couldn’t have been more safe, I was so happy, tending that garden, thinking about all we have, my family. You’ve already made me safe, Rolan. If you didn’t bring me here, if you didn’t love me so much, I’d be selling myself on the streets of the Lower City,’ she told him and he sobbed harder. That was the truth, but she probably should have kept it to herself. ‘My life is so, so much better and safer than it ever was, even before my kidnapping. Because of you and Cal and Lia. So when I see you so upset over my safety, it boggles my mind,’ she told him. She rubbed his back, her heart was truly breaking for him. ‘Oh Rolan, I’m sorry,’ she whispered. She wanted to make him feel happy once more, but whether this alone was truly killing him, or was the last straw in a list of stressors, she knew a few words weren’t going to make him feel better.

She stayed right there, kneeling in front of him, letting him just cry. It was awful, but he needed it, and she wouldn’t stop him. This was her job, to support and cherish him. She was very happy to do everything she could for him, so she would be his handkerchief and diary whenever he needed her. She just rubbed his back and kissed his forehead.

‘Come on, let me get you more comfortable, Rolan,’ she pleaded. This wasn’t comfortable for her, she couldn’t imagine how comfortable he was, hunched over. She got him to his feet and walked him to their bedroom. Their bedroom, amongst all of the chaos these last days have brought, stayed mainly the same with one small additional, a cradle. Well, some of a cradle. Rolan had been working on assembling one with a lot of help from Cal. Rolan wasn’t exactly good with laborious activity, but he was incredibly picky and Cal had to deal with Rolan’s vision while he did the actual labor. It was a little on the massive side, nothing that Zelphie would have chosen personally, but she never gave any negative input. She didn’t mind at all, as long as baby was safe. She loved that he was working so diligently on the cradle, she loved watching him fuss over it.

‘I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I can’t shake this, all of this,’ he said miserably, walking to his side table for a handkerchief and blew his nose loudly into it.

‘Rolan, please don’t apologize, after everything we all went through in this past year, I don’t blame you. When was the last time you cried?’ She asked him. ‘Really cried because of stress?’

‘When Cal and Lia were captured, and then again when I almost died in that godforsaken Shadow curse. Only to be saved by you,’ he told her. Zelphie walked over to him and helped him with his robe. She wanted him in bed, without a care in the outside world. He deserved a good cry, a glass of water and a cuddle.

‘Everyone deserves saving, Rolan, especially you,’ she told him softly.

‘But how am I to ever pay you back for what you have done? How many times did you save my ragged tail since we met?’ He asked, sounding so desperate, as if he wanted her to berate him.

‘As many times as you absolutely needed it. And it wasn’t just me, my love. When Cal and Lia were taken I had…six, SIX other people also helping! And I would have dragged you down into those dungeons with me if you were cursed with a tadpole, I promise,’ she told him and reached up to hold his face. ‘You’re damned powerful, especially when you are angry. But we couldn’t bring Halsin or Jaheira there for a reason.’

‘And Lorroakan…’ his voice cracked and Zelphie shouted a laugh.

‘Oh that mother fucker? I hit him maybe once before you and the angel got to him, I don’t want credit for that,’ she told him and laughed and there it was. He was still crying, face wet with dark red blotches, but he smiled a little. She leaned up and gave him a little kiss, tasting the salt of his tears on his lips. That would do for now.

‘You are my angel,’ he said softly and hugged her. She hugged him back quickly and she kissed his cheek.

‘And you are mine,’ she told him softly, her tail cooling around his ankle. ‘I don’t know what I would be without you, Rolan,’ she told him softly and his grip got a little tighter.

‘Do you really mean that?’ He whispered and she nodded.

‘Yes, yes with all my heart,’ she told him and the couple stood in a hug for a moment. Rolan had calmed down considerably, at least with his sobbing. He had little hiccups, she would fetch him some water. ‘Rolan?’ She asked softly and he hummed. ‘Are our wedding rings sending stones?’ She asked and his grip on her loosened. He pulled away enough to look at her.

‘Yes, yes they are…I…’ he began and she looked up at him. ‘They won’t work to track your general whereabouts, but…if you rub it, I will know where you are,’ he told her. She had only rubbed her ring when she was terribly upset and needed him. And each time he appeared to comfort her. ‘Stupidly, I got lucky today, you’re as smart as a whip, figuring that out yourself,’ he told her and she tilted her head.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ She asked him and he bit his lip and shrugged. ‘Rolan,’ she urged him and he shook his head.

‘I don’t know…when we exchanged them a lot was going on, I forgot and then when I wanted to tell you you weren’t around and…I don’t know. I did not mean to keep it from you,’ he said and sighed. ‘And…after you used it the first time, I sort of assumed you knew what it was, or I was happy to think that you might have thought-‘

‘That you could show up when I needed you?’ She asked and he winced.

‘Yes,’ he said and looked away. Zelphie frowned and looked at him. She didn’t know how she felt about that. A flash of her Dream Figure showed up in her mind, The Emperor. ‘It wasn’t the intention, I promise…I’m sorry,’ he said and looked back down at her. ‘If you want the stone removed, just tell me, I’ll understand,’ he said and she shook her head.

‘No, no, I genuinely don’t mind it, it is incredibly handy. I don’t mind you knowing where I am…it just,’ she said and shrugged. ‘Is there anything else you wish to tell me, Rolan?’ She asked him and he sighed through his nose.

‘I don’t think so,’ he told her softly and she nodded.

‘Can you teach me how to use it?’ She asked and he smiled and nodded.

‘Of course,’ he told her and leaned down to kiss her. She kissed him back. He held her close again and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with his hair. It was getting pretty long. She would never ever tell him that she preferred it this long, she would just compliment it. If he ever wanted to cut it, she wouldn’t fight, but she did secretly love it long and down. Her fingers played with the little knot keeping it half up and she felt him laughing against her lips. ‘Like a cat with a toy,’ he told her and nuzzled her face.

‘Sorry, I like playing with it,’ she told him and he smiled.

‘I have no complaints,’ he reassured her and she grinned.

‘Let’s get you into bed,’ she told him and as unusual as that would be for Rolan, he didn’t put up a fight. He had drunk three glasses of wine and cried for about an hour. He was ready for a lie down, for certain. He climbed in and she poured him a glass of water and handed it to him.

‘Thank you,’ he said and she smiled at him.

‘Do you need anything else? Lajy cuddles?’ She asked him and he raised his eyebrow at her as he drank his water. He finished his drink and shook his head.

‘Lajy would be fine, but I better be getting you in this bed,’ he said and her tail thumped happily. ‘Unless your little herb garden is more important.’

‘Little herb garden?’ She asked and placed her hands on her hips. ‘Don’t you patronize me,’ she said and he chuckled as she climbed in next to him. ‘Are you feeling a little better? I know I can’t fix it, and I hate that I can’t,’ she told him, getting under the covers. Rolan enveloped her into his arms quickly. He brought her to lay on his chest as he sat back on pillows. He kissed her forehead.

‘I do, thank you. And now, all I want is to hold what is precious to me. I don’t know what will happen in the future, and that is killing me. But for this moment, my pregnant wife is here, and she is safe, and that’s all that I want,’ he told her and placed his face in her hair, his jaw fitting very well in between her horns. She nuzzled into his neck, just relaxing. He was so warm, like a pile of burning charcoal. She loved it.

‘Lia asked me if I know if the baby is a boy or girl again today,’ she said and he laughed loudly.

‘I’ll make her do more homework tomorrow,’ he told her and she laughed, knowing that Rolan can assign Lia to read a million books about the biology of a tiefling pregnancy and she wouldn’t read a single sentence. She was just ready to hold the little bundle.

‘I might just lie to her next time she asks,’ Zelphie said and Rolan laughed again.

‘Don’t you dare, you’ll just create another headache if you are wrong,’ he told her and she smirked.

‘A headache for you, maybe,’ she said and she felt Rolan’s hand on her tail, and he pulled it playfully, making her laugh. ‘I want to know too, I’m so impatient, I cannot wait for our little one to be here,’ she told him and he gave her a little squeeze.

‘I would say I’m the same, but I’m not ready yet. There is still a lot to do,’ he said and sighed. ‘Still so much that I don’t know,’ he said and she laughed.

‘I don’t know if you’ll know everything before they come, darling. Babies are very fickle creatures,’ she said and he huffed.

‘Infuriating,’ he muttered. She lifted her head slowly and smiled at him.

‘Knowing you, I can assure you, any spawn of yours will be incredibly infuriating,’ she said and he scowled.

‘Oh, oh my darling, kettle, pot,’ he said bluntly. Zelphie laughed at his grumpy face. ‘I mean it, you are the most infuriating person I know,’ he said and she continued to laugh, wrinkling her nose. This was fun Rolan, sassy Rolan. He was feeling better. ‘I cannot wait for the headaches your child will give me,’ he said and she howled. ‘Getting into places and business they don’t belong, making a mess of every room in the tower,’ he said and she continued to cackle and he let up and laughed with her. He nuzzled her and sighed out. ‘And I will be so happy.’

[mendessi]

speak now | part five

pairing: fem!reader x pre-outbreak!joel

summary: joel saves you from the biggest mistake of your life

(this will end up being a multi-part story)

word count: 2.8k

warnings: smut probably, pre-outbreak, mentions of marriage, based off speak now by taylor swift, mentions of domestic abuse, joel is 26 & reader is 21, mentions of cheating, kind of slow burn, brief mention of death, angst, will add more as i think of them, not proofread

this chapter: kind of domestic joel at the very end

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

minors dni

"Do you have everything together?" Joel asked Tommy as he entered the hotel room.

"Yeah, all packed." He said.

"What time do you wanna head out tomorrow?"

Tommy hesitated and it came out as more of a question, "Two?"

"Two? We won't get to Austin til after midnight if we leave at two. I already told the Adler's we'd stay for dinner after getting Sarah." Joel almost raised his voice, but refrained. Tommy understood why he had been so touchy recently and gave him a pass because of it. He had lost you the only person he ever really loved.

"I asked around and she's getting married at two." Tommy told him, hoping Joel would pick up the rest.

"I'm not watching her get married." Joel finally snapped and then put his head in his hands muttering an apology to his brother.

"Not watch... Stop." Tommy said. "You can't let her get married to that man, Joel. Statistics don't lie and she will not survive that relationship."

"That's not my problem." The words stung coming off his tongue and it almost made him physically sick, "She doesn't love me and I don't love her. Just some summer fling."

"That's a lie and you know it." Tommy took a seat in the chair across from the bed. "Joel, you were like a love sick puppy following her around these last few weeks. Never in my life have I seen you so infatuated with somebody, let alone someone you just met."

"I know." Joel sighed. "I know. That's why it's hell, Tommy. Losing her to someone like him. It scares me thinkin what she'll go through. It makes my chest hurt like I can't breathe knowin that we'll be gone tomorrow and she'll just be stuck with him for the rest of her life. It fuckin hurts, Tommy."

"So don't let her get married tomorrow." Tommy told him.

"She doesn't want me." Joel shook his head and looked at the ground.

"I'm gonna tell you somethin, Joel." Tommy inhaled a short breath and then looked up at his devastated brother in front of him.

The next morning your annoying mother-in-law woke you up barely as the sun was rising, talking about how you had hair and makeup appointments to get to and that you needed to eat breakfast before doing so.

It felt like you were in your own personal hell being dragged around all morning by her. Barely touching your breakfast, the idea that you'd be married come this afternoon making you nauseous. If only this woman knew how horrible her son was.

People were in and out of your house all morning, people you didn't know. Everyone invited you didn't know because they were all his friends and family. You only had the friends you worked with and they were hardly friends, you certainly weren't close enough to invite them to your wedding.

The day was beautiful at least. You almost wished it had been storming so it would be called off all together and would deny your betrothal a bit longer. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and for the first time all summer, the temperatures weren't scorching hot. It was how you always imagined the day to be when you dreamed about your wedding.

Staring in the mirror, you found it easy to dissociate from the reality that was currently setting in. People touched your face and your hair and even your nails despite having them done just the day before. You thought of Joel and how he was probably halfway home to his daughter, leaving any thoughts and memories of you behind in Austin. Now you'd get to live with every single piece of himself that he left behind because you lived here.

"Are you not happy?" Your fiance's mother asked.

"I'm great." You forced your best smile and looked at her as she watched what the hair stylist was doing.

"He told me." She said to you.

"He told you?" Your heart sunk and you tried to hide any surprise you might've shown at the question.

"That you had another man in the house while he was away."

"Yes, I did." You didn't bother lying. Even if you did, she wouldn't believe you.

"Did you love him?" She asked.

"More than anyone I've loved before."

"I was in your position once." She said. "When I married his dad. I didn't want to but I did it because it was a woman's only way of survival back then: marrying into wealth. I loved somebody else but he couldn't give me what I needed."

You sat there speechless that she was opening up to you. Over the three years of you knowing her, you never talked so personally. It was refreshing to say the least than her regular nonsense about things that simply didn't matter to you.

"I'm sympathetic for you. I know what it's like to be in your position. I won't pretend my son is perfect but neither were we as parents so perhaps that's our own fault. Going through with something like this is quite frankly a woman's purpose in life. Doing things we don't want to for the sake of a man's ego." She said to you. "At least you look beautiful doing it."

Her words stung but a part of them felt slightly right. This was your place in the world.

"Did you ever see him again? The one you loved?" You found the courage to ask.

With a shake of her head and a sad smile she said, "No, but if she would've came through those altar doors I would've left with her in an instant."

Tears brimmed your eyes as you looked at yourself in the mirror, your mother-in-law zipping the back of your dress up. You felt hopeful that maybe the two of you would have a healthy relationship after today. There wasn't much you knew about maternal relationships, you didn't have one with your own mother so there was nothing to compare it to, but she seemed empathetic today.

With only five sons and no daughters, experiencing a wedding from her daughter-in-laws perspective was somewhat touching to the old woman. It's always different for mothers and daughters in weddings and in childbirth, there are just certain things to be shared between the two.

Your dress was beautiful, handed down to you from his mother, a gesture you didn't expect. It was simple and that was something you loved. The sleeves were sheer which was a nice touch considering the Texas heat and hung just off your shoulders. The neckline was modestly cut straight across and didn't reveal any cleavage but made your collarbones look nice. The dress flowed effortlessly to the ground, pooling ever so slightly at your feet and instead of white it was a soft cream color. Your hair was pulled into a simple bun, pieces left to frame your face.

You held back tears not wanting to ruin your freshly done make up and wished silently that your dad would be here to walk you down the aisle on what you presumed would be the best day of your life. This wasn't the best day like you imagined. You weren't marrying someone you loved and to be honest this day felt like the last one of your own.

"You look beautiful." His mother said placing her hands on your shoulders. "Come, it's almost time."

Your lead to where the rest of the bridal party is stood outside the altar doors and you hear the music start playing. It bothered you that even your wedding party was assigned by his mother, nobody you knew well. His cousins who were your bridesmaids for the day and his groomsmen who he chose all congratulated you upon your arrival and it made you wonder how his entire family seemed so sweet and he was so awful. But then again, he was sweet at first too.

The music didn't sound like music at all as pair by pair started walking down the aisle, moreso sounding like nails on a chalkboard. His mother snuck back inside to find her seat so it was just you and the wedding planner now who would cue you when to walk. You took multiple deep breaths, each one shakier than the last and stared down at your feet.

"Your turn." The planner said and her and her assistant pulled the large oak doors open to the beautiful altar before you filled with people you barely knew.

You found a steady pace to walk down the aisle falsely returning smiles to those who smiled at you, trying your best to look happy. You imagined your dad had his arm linked with yours and was walking next to you, steadying you from falling. You imagined it was somebody, anybody else standing at the end of the aisle waiting for you. You swallowed the lump in your throat, realizing about halfway down the aisle that you weren't breathing so you reminded yourself to do so.

Once you reached your annoyingly too old for you fiance, you handed your flowers to your maid of honor who you couldn't even remember the name of and took his hands in yours.

"You look ravishing." He said to you, squeezing your hands so hard your knuckles turned white. He had a gleam in his eye like he had won, having you exactly where he wanted you. Joel wasn't coming to the rescue. He had won the prize.

"Let's get this over with." You said quietly as everyone before you returned to sitting.

“This beautiful couple you know and love have invited us to share in this celebration as they affirm their love before us, pledge their faith to one another, and enter into the joys and privileges of marriage." The preacher started and you fought back the tears that were threatening to brim your eyes. You wouldn't let him see you hurt like this.

"If there is anyone present, who can show just cause why these two persons may not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Your chest tightened as everyone's attention turned towards the sound of the church doors swinging open. Your head turned and it felt like every moment forward happened in slow motion.

Your eyes met Joel's down the aisle standing in the church door frame, looking like a literal angel with the way the sun hugged his figure. Like you always said before, Joel was the sun and he radiated warmth and safety and he was here. He was here to save you.

You looked back to your fiance who had a dumbfounded look spread across his face. Nobody wanted to say anything at all, not understanding who this man was that had just burst through the doors. Your eyes found your fiance's mother who was standing looking between you and Joel and you could've swore she had the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips.

Joel didn't even have to say anything, didn't even have to move for you to drop your fiance's hands. His eyes were hopeful that you'd come with him, he knew you'd come with him but there was still the ounce of doubt that what Tommy had said about your conversation wasn't true. You turned on your heel taking your first step down the stairs just for him to grab your wrist.

"Don't you fucking dare." He said under his breath.

"Now darling, don't cause a scene." You yanked your arm away from him and then picked up the fabric of your dress up just enough so it wouldn't drag as you took off sprinting down the aisle towards Joel, everyone in the audience collectively gasping.

A smile spread across his lips as he held his arms open for you, jumping into them and twirling you around once, pressing his lips to yours. He didn't pull away until you were on the ground and it felt like straight out of a fairytale for you. The moment young you would wait to see in a movie as a child. Joel was the prince and he had saved his princess.

"Let's get out of here." He said taking your hand in his.

Ignoring the screams of your ex fiance as you ran down the steps of the church hand in hand, laughing at how you nearly tripped down the stairs in your dress. This moment was everything to you both.

Joel pulled open the back door of the truck and you both climbed in, Tommy laughing loudly as he pulled off chaotically from the church parking lot.

"I love you. I fucking love you." You said cupping his cheeks and bringing his lips to yours, kissing him with every fiber of fiery passion coursing through your body.

His hands couldn't find one place on your body, just thankful that you were sat safely in front of him, "I love you, baby."

"Where are we going?" You asked through a laugh, as his lips pecked kisses all over your cheeks.

"Home. We're goin home."

ten years later | one year before outbreak day

You sat on the porch watching Sarah play with her younger sister, Savannah, who was born nine short months after you moved to Austin.

"Mom, did you see?!" Sarah laughed as she kicked the soccer ball right past Savannah.

"You gotta dive for it, Sav!" You laughed at the defeated look on her face.

Joel's truck pulled into the driveway and the girls immediately swarmed him and Tommy as soon as they got out of the truck. Tommy immediately began kicking the ball around with the girls, inevitably showing them who was boss. You stood up from the chair and stepped down the porch steps, holding your hands out towards him as he approached you.

"Hi, baby." He grinned down at you kissing you softly. "My shirt again?"

"It's all that fits." You pouted as his hands found their way to your swollen belly. "And barely." You noted how you only had a few buttons done and the rest of the shirt draped open exposing your pregnant belly.

"I love it. How is she?" He asked, brushing his thumb against your skin.

"Good. Any day now." You said standing on your toes to kiss him again. "We missed you."

"Our daughter's a real soccer star, huh?" He asked looking over as Sarah passed the ball around Tommy.

"Oh, she's going for the World Cup one day." You laughed and the two of you walked up to find a seat on the porch. Joel sat in the chair and you sat on his lip, leaning against his chest as his hands rubbed your belly gently.

Not a day passed that you weren't grateful for Joel and your small found family. Everyday reminding you that a found family is bit as beautiful as a born family.

PREV | NEXT ???

maybe ill continue this but post outbreak day

[fungifanart]

Could I request Edmond (nu: carnival) x male reader that acts like Jamil viper (No he's not Eiden, he was not transferred worlds)

Oh and could I be 🤡anon so it'd be easier for me to navigate what I've requested

Servitude

Characters: Male reader (Although, it's pretty GN due to the use of You/Your pronouns. Oops.), Edmond, Edmond's mother, mentions of Eiden

Cw: Violence

Word count: 966

Notes: I mean, you can call yourself that if you want, but I personally don't really care about that kind of stuff. Anyways, I'm pretty happy with how this came out, so I hope you enjoy!

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

You are NOT happy with this arrangement. At all.

It's almost insulting, in a way.

Having to serve and safeguard this prissy, hardass noble who would measure sugar in cups rather than teaspoons if left alone in the kitchen? After spending year after year working your way up the ranks with your sights set on becoming Royal Guard Commander?

Great. Thanks. What an honor. (<- Sarcasm)

What makes it worse is that neither of you seemingly have a choice in the matter, seeing as how the decision was made by your new liege's mother, the matriarch of the family.

You can still remember the silent fury you felt when you received the news from the woman herself as your liege argued bitterly with his mother about the necessity of it. Of you.

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

"Mother, I beg of you to reconsider! I fail to see how I, the Vice Captain of the royal guard, would need a personal guard!" Edmond said, making no attempt to mask his displeasure.

Well, at least you're like-minded in that aspect.

"Save your arguments, my son." Edmond's mother waved dismissively, "Do not forget your status as a noble. You know as well as I do how cutthroat our world has become lately and your status as Vice Captain will only serve to paint a bigger target on your back for those wishing to stab it." She explained.

…OK, you'd be lying if you said she didn't make a convincing argument.

"Mother, surely you trust me enough as your son to–" Edmond's attempt at a counter was shut down immediately by his mother slamming her hand on her desk.

"It is BECAUSE you're my son that I make this decision! The very thought of you being caught unawares for some politically motivated scheme is one that I CANNOT abide!" She slumped back in her chair with a sigh, "Enough. My decision is final and I will hear no more arguments."

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

And so began what you would so affectionately describe as your own personal hell.

Every day, you wake up before Edmond in order to prepare breakfast, paying special attention that there's no poison and just enough sugar to suit his "tastes" without rotting his and your teeth out of your skulls.

After breakfast, you accompany Edmond on his daily patrol of the castle town, carefully surveying your surroundings for any traps or assassins, while also keeping the peace among the citizens.

Next is dinner, which goes the same way as breakfast, except afterwards you have to stand guard outside Edmond's room until a certain time, at which you'll go back to your own room. The problem with this is that you have to make sure that he's at least preparing for bed before you can leave and yet Edmond seems perfectly content to work at his desk from dusk until dawn, forcing you to physically pull him away from his desk just so the both of you have a chance at getting enough sleep.

Rinse and repeat with only minor variations as the days turn into weeks and then months and you've got a perfect recipe for making you wonder what the sharp end of your spear would taste like.

However, three months after your appointment under Edmond, you find yourself traveling to the Fire Territory with him and the new Grand Sorcerer with the intent of regulating the Fire Altar, but then everything goes wrong.

The troops have been scattered, the Fire Gemstone was on the verge of shattering the last time you saw it and some weird magic separated you from your liege, leaving you stranded in the middle of the desert.

You're having an internal argument with yourself about how you should be better than being caught by some cheap trap despite it being impossible to anticipate something like this when you suddenly hear two familiar voices a ways from you.

As you approach, you recognize the voices as belonging to your liege and the new Grand Sorcerer, but something feels off.

Listening to the new Grand Sorcerer from a safe distance, you hear him speak in a tone you've never heard from him before about things you’ve come to learn that Edmond is insecure about and even having the GALL to imply that he's complicit in the greedy practices of the Light Territory's nobles.

Your blood is boiling before you even realize it. For all of your continued misgivings about your position and all of Edmond's faults, the one thing you can't deny is his devotion to his people. You see it in the way he regards each citizen he sees while on patrol with respect and patience and in the way he toils away at his desk, signing bills that would counter others that would cause them harm or distress.

Your feet instantly carry you out of your hiding spot and into the space between the two men as you hold your spear in front of Edmond defensively, "Who are you?" You ask the 'Grand Sorcerer'.

Despite how few your interactions with him had been up until this point, you know for a fact that the new Grand Sorcerer is absolutely not the type to say such horrible things to Edmond, especially not with the way you've seen him look at him.

The conclusion? The 'person' you see before you is an imposter who needs to be eliminated.

Coming to the same conclusion, you see Edmond readying his weapon as well, allowing both of you to strike through the imposter at the same time and leave whatever's left of him to begin the trek to the Fire Altar.

As you sprint across the sand, your mind fully catches up with what just happened.

Fighting alongside Edmond as equals instead of master and servant? You could get used to this.

[angelsanarchy]

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N One-Shot Series PRT 29

Tagging:@roryculkinluvr@thatsthewrongwallcraig@icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06@shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver@ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999 @x-prettyboy-x @rorylover71 @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

Jack tried to take things slow with Y/n upon his return. He didn't want her to think he was rushing into anything or that he was manic in any way. They texted back and forth, usual good mornings and good nights. He would ask her how her shift was and she would ask him how he was feeling. It took about two weeks for him to settle back in and start itching to get Y/n back over to his place.

He walked over to the house and knocked on the screen door, seeing her mom smiling as she walked to the door put him at ease.

"Jack! What a lovely surprise! Come on in." She held the door open for him and he walked in receiving a kiss on the cheek.

"It's nice to see you again." He greeted with a smile.

"Y/n isn't home right now-" He put his hand up stopping her.

"Actually I came to talk to you...is that okay?" Jack asked seeing how surprised yet delighted.

"Of course! I don't get such handsome company these days. Please sit, have yourself something to eat." She gestured to the chair next to hers at the dining table. He didn't have the heart to refuse so he took the seat next to her.

"Y/n should be home soon. How are you feeling? She said you had to go to the hosptial for a bit. Are you feeling better now?" Jack's eyebrows went up. He didn't think Y/n would have talked to her mom about him but apparently she did.

"I'm feeling a lot better than I was, how are you feeling?" He sipped the glass of lemonade in front of him.

"Oh I'm feeling fantastic. I've got a lovely doctor named Dr. Lennon who has been a godsend. Not to mention Y/n makes sure I've got all my meds and physical therapy appointments set. I keep telling her I can handle more things on my own but she's too stubborn to listen to her momma." She smiles taking a bite of her lunch.

Jack nodded and took a bite of the toast that was sitting in front of him.

"You raised a wonderful woman who cares for people, especially her mother. I don't know that I would have done the same if it were me." He said honestly.

"I know your mother was a bit of a...harsh woman but your father always spoke so fondly of you Jack. You were his pride and joy." She smiled. Jack wanted to smile but he knew what his father had done to his twin. He wished his whole relationship with his father hadn't been tainted by what he found out but it was.

"You have sadness in your eyes when I speak of your family." She reached out and touched his cheek startling him a bit.

"It's still difficult for me to talk about them. There was so many things I wanted to say but never got the chance." Jack explained.

"Y/n tells me you're a writer...you should write to them. Tell them all those things you wanted to tell them. They might not get to read it or hear it but it will take the weight off your heart." She explained. Jack found it in him to smile at her but before he could say anything, Y/n came through the door.

"Hey...Jack? What are you doing here?" She asked surprised to see him.

"Having lunch with your mom. She's telling me about all the nice things you say about me." Jack teased.

"Oh you! We're just catching up sweetie. Are you hungry?" Her mother asked as she came into the dining area and looked around.

"No I'm okay. I told you I wasn't home when you asked." She looked at Jack suspiciously.

"Well I wanted to ask your mom something." Jack explained turning back towards her.

"I was hoping to ask your permission to take Y/n out on a date, like a real date." He chuckled.

"Oh absolutely!" Her mother smiled happily.

"Mom!" Y/n laughed.

"Sweetie, I told you, I will be fine for an evening. You need to go and let this handsome man wine and dine you! At the very least let some steam off." She elbowed Jack playfully and Y/n buried her face in her hands.

"This is a legitimate nightmare." Y/n she shook her head.

"Come on! I've been telling you both that you should go out, I think it's time." Mrs. Fletcher was like a giddy child but excused herself into the kitchen so the two of them could talk. Jack looked at Y/n and she rolled her eyes at him.

"You know, I'm well past the age of consent. You don't really need to ask my mom for permission." Y/n reminded.

"It was more of asking to see if she was in a place physically where she would feel comfortable enough for me to take you out." Jack explained seeing her face lighten a bit.

"I don't want to take you away from some place you're needed just because-"

"Because you need me?" She smirked cutting Jack off. He walked over towards her and leaned against the counter.

"It's more than that. Maybe I want to take care of you for a change?" Jack smiled taking her hand into his.

"Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?" She teased.

"I was thinking I can make you dinner? You seem to enjoy a good foot rub so maybe I can give you one of those? I just want to spend time with you, treating you for a change. I want to make you feel as comfortable and relax as possible." Jack pushed some of her hair away from her face.

"I like that you're getting better at telling people what you want and how you feel. Your progress is showing." She smiled proudly.

"Thank you. Tons of therapy will do that for you." He joked.

"So do you actually know how to cook?" She questioned.

"Yes I know how to cook. I can make pasta from scratch." He boasted.

"Oh wow! No instant noodles for you!" She poked his chest.

"Dinner sounds great. I would love that. If you really are a good cook, I'll have to add that to your growing list of fine qualities." She watched Jack roll his eyes.

"I'd hate to know what's on that list." He commented before he pointed a finger at her.

"Hey do you eat meat?" He asked making a mental note of the dinner he wanted to prepare.

"Are you asking me if I suck dick 10 feet away from my mother?" She whispered making Jack let out a laugh.

"I wasn't but now that you brought it up..." He smirked.

"Yes I eat meat...and I also suck dick." She responded making him blush.

"I will make a mental note of both. I guess after dinner we can compare notes about fine qualities we both have." He leaned closer to her wanting to kiss her but Mrs. Fletcher came out of the kitchen making him pull back.

"So...did we set a date?" She asked curiously.

"Yes mom!" Y/n shook her head and Jack laughed. He was excited to finally be able to make plans for the both of them. He wanted to use his fresh start to make something solid with Y/n. Now he had to get his shit together to plan an incredibly memorable date that Y/n would never forget.

[idolatrybarbie]

the world tipped on its side

chapter three - bad miracle

series masterlist | read on ao3

pairing: francisco "frankie" morales x f!reader

word count: 6.4k

rating & summary: mature | you get a phone call. frankie leads you to pensacola beach, florida.

warnings: ANGST, discussions of health and disability, discussions of surgery, details of physical injury, (the briefest) mentions of suicidal ideation, grief/mourning, reader has a disability, reusing a bit of dialogue from a glee (yes) fic i wrote in high school.

notes: OKAY so i know i am like...really making you work for the porn here. sorry. take this gut-wrenching bullshit instead ??? also thank youuu gin for cheering me on in the DMs and for getting more eyes on my little fic, you are truly the bestest.

You don’t see Frankie for a few days, things operating as usual on set as the last week of June slips by. His number is in your phone now, but you don’t call. Sam goes back to Texas over the weekend and Mia returns to the top of your frequent calls list. After that evening with Frankie things feel different between you and your best friend. You want to ask her all the things she’s keeping from you—or more, all the things she might know you keep from her. White lies and omissions that have spiralled out of your control.

You didn’t realize that lying had become so easy, almost like second nature. How hard it is now to start being honest without the fragile, springy web coming apart and Mia seeing all of it. All of you.

That night, after driving back to set from 7-Eleven and saying your goodbyes to Frankie in the dark parking lot, you went home and stared at yourself for a while in the bathroom mirror. Maybe if you squinted hard enough, you could see what he was always observing within you. All you could see, half naked in front of the glass, were all the signs of medical interference on your body. The spindly scars all along the column of your neck and top of your spine, disappearing into the hair at the base of your skull that was slightly shorter than the rest. The permanent shadow of a line under your chest, a faint reminder of where the vested neck brace sat along your ribs.

You’re sitting in your car, scarfing down apple slices from the craft services table when your phone buzzes in your lap. The number isn’t listed in your contacts, but you recognize it immediately.

“Dr. Lopez,” you say as you answer the call.

“It’s just me honey.” Not Dr. Lopez but her sweet older receptionist, Dawn. “The good doctor wanted me to remind you about your appointment this week. July third at eleven o’clock. You can still make it I assume,” she says.

Shit. Your standing quarterly appointment that you’d already had to push back twice.

“Right, yeah. Should be fine.” You nod like she can see you now.

“Perfect. We’ll see you then. Have a good morning,” Dawn says.

“You too. Bye,” you say. Dawn hangs up first, surely eager to get to that next reminder phone call.

You’ve got shit to shoot that day, but an explanation and your pointed absence should be enough to get those scenes pushed back until after the holiday. Ashton will surely remark about bleeding money for half a day’s work, and you’re already rolling your eyes at the anticipated argument. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Your health comes first, always.

Someone knocks at the window on the other side of your car. Mia waves at you, a stash of fruit bundled in her right arm as she uses her left to pull the door open.

“Hey,” she says with a huff, taking a seat next to you.

“Did you raid crafty?”

“Are you going to eat it?” she asks.

You answer by snatching the banana from the crook of her elbow, peeling it upside down before you take a bite.

“How are you holding up?” you ask.

It’s always tough for Mia in the days after Sam goes back home. That’s when she’s the one calling you at midnight, needing someone to talk to about nothing and everything. How much of a prick Ashton is, this new yoga routine she’s started that really unlocks one of her chakras, the guy with the sundial collection two doors down from you back in school.

“I’m doin’ alright,” she says. Mia slowly tears at a cutie mandarin, keeping the peel in her lap. “I think about the fact that we only have to do this for so much longer and feel a little bit better.”

“That’s good,” you say.

One thing about Mia is that she loves with her whole heart. Many of her past relationships ended because she wanted more, what her partners considered too much. She’d explained it once, tearful as she used the flat sheet of her twin bed to wipe at her eyes.

“I can’t just stop falling in love with someone. It turns into this free fall. I start to pour myself into this thing, like some sort of void. And it’ll never be full, but that’s okay because there’s supposed to be someone on the other end. Receiving all of that and returning it back to me.”

All you could do then, all you can still do now is nod silently. You have never felt that way about someone. Wasting away on love that will never be reciprocated sounds horrible and exhausting. Watching Mia lose herself in relationships to guys who meant zilch in comparison to the bright and shining star that she is taught you better. If she was decimated by a love like that, you would be absolutely destroyed.

“How’s your banana?”

“Starchy,” you say, mouth still full. You swallow. “Got that doctor’s appointment this week.”

“Oh? Is everything okay?” You hate that look in her eyes, oozing a concern so deep and immediate that it almost winds you.

“All fine. It’s just that quarterly thing. She wants to make sure I’m not dying,” you explain.

Mia hums, eyes on the citrus in her hand. She stops peeling, worry still intense all over. “You would tell me, right? If something was wrong?”

“Of course,” you say, a lie that rolls smoothly off your tongue. Internally you’re already kicking yourself. At the last specialist appointment, the doctor had taken x-rays of your skull, neck, and back. This was the appointment to discuss whatever they’d found with Dr. Lopez, and set out on the next steps in your care plan, if any at all. The fact that Dr. Lopez was so insistent about meeting each time you have had to reschedule tells you it isn’t nothing.

“I hope it goes well,” Mia says.

She pops a sliver of the fruit into her mouth. You adjust your seat back, laying diagonal to the gas pedal to rest your back. For a moment, the sun and silence drifts peacefully between you.

-

The furniture in the practice’s lobby is twenty years out of style; the fabric chairs all dark wood and fern green cushions as they form a double row in the middle of the carpeted room. Each piece of art that covers the wall space is dull and generic. A winter landscape here, mushy brown leaves there. It smells—like old people, like tiny sticky fingers, like ammonia.

When the nurse finally leads you to the last exam room on the left, your heart speeds up. This is where she butters you up, says all these sweet things before Dr. Lopez comes in and tells you that you’re going to be in a wheelchair in the next ten years. But all she does is watch you take a seat on the crinkly, sheer paper on the leather examination bed and ask if you need anything else.

“I’m fine,” you say. Then she’s gone.

You sit and wait for maybe five minutes, mind oscillating between the worst and the reality. Reality is, you’re here. Clearly this is about something, something the good doctor cannot tell you over the phone. Realistically, though, if you were going to die she would have told you by now.

When Dr. Lopez enters, your heart and mind pause simultaneously.

“Relax,” is the first thing she says, and you feel your tense muscles rest to unstrain themselves.

Why that worked, you’re unsure. Regardless, you say, “Thank you. Hi.”

“Hi,” Dr. Lopez returns. “I guess I don’t have to ask how you’ve been feeling.”

“Work’s been kind of getting to me lately,” you say. Not entirely a lie. Everything has been getting to you.

“How’s your limb function?”

“Fine. I haven’t had anything go numb on me in a couple of months.”

Dr. Lopez nods, taking a seat at the empty cushioned chair so that she’s at your level. “That’s good. Would you say you’re doing better?”

You have the urge to say maybe, to give her (and by extension, yourself) a little bit of hope amidst all of this. But you tell her the truth and say no. “That new mattress doesn’t really do anything. My neck is still stiff, and the nerve pain is almost constant.”

“You’re taking all of your medication?”

“And then some. I have an Advil delivery on auto-renewal,” you say.

“There’s an opportunity,” Dr. Lopez says.

“An opportunity,” you repeat.

“For you, for your spine. Surgery,” she continues.

“Okay,” you say slowly.

“I have to warn you that there are no guarantees, and the procedure is highly invasive. Moreso than your last.”

After your first and only surgery following the accident, you woke up feeling unlike yourself. Like someone had sliced you open and stolen a piece of your being while you were asleep on the table. Your skin didn’t feel like your own anymore. Your body was telling you something was still very wrong, as you would learn through the healing process. The pain stayed behind, even as the stitches closed and the skin at your neck mended itself into scars.

This was more invasive. Immediately, you are thoroughly uninterested, shaking your head.

“No. I can’t do that again,” you say.

She sighs. “I understand. They’ve performed the surgery a few times before to some highly successful results, which is why I brought it to your attention.” She’s shuffling through the manila file folder with all of your medical records now.

“Some,” you say.

“Pardon?”

“You said some. What about the others?”

Dr. Lopez purses her lips. She was probably hoping you wouldn’t ask. “Some other patients have seen little to no improvement to their condition or in their pain. And a small minority have experienced worsened pain and further limiting of their mobility.”

You could almost laugh. “And you want me to jump at this golden opportunity to disable myself more?” It’s rude, and you hate the way it comes out of your mouth as soon as you’ve said it.

Dr. Lopez eats the gut punch, shuffling on. “I know there’s a risk, but there’s always a risk. Without further surgery, your condition will worsen over time regardless. I thought this could be an opportunity. But if—”

“Can I think about it?” you ask. “I need to finish this project I’m working on before I can make any decisions. Could you give me the month?”

“Yes, I can do that,” Dr. Lopez says. She says your name, soft and low. The skin around her eyes crinkles, the only eyes involved in any of your medical experiences that has looked at you like another human being; like another soul. “You need to believe that things will get better or they never will. I understand that this…is not how you imagined your life going. But you have to hold space for something good within yourself. Miracles can occur.”

Now you really do laugh, a small snort out your nose as the right side of your mouth quirks up. “I’m not holding out any hope.”

Hope is a funny thing, though. It lingers, festering somewhere inside you in the hours that follow the appointment. If things go well, this could change your life. There’s that pesky word again—if. The surgery could change your life for the worse, too, bringing effects of the injury that are fifteen years away closer to fifteen months. Had this dilemma been posed to the old you, the better you, it would be a no-brainer. She was a risk-taker, fearless in her endeavours once she got a taste of what life could be like on the other side of chance. Now you hedge your bets. Take the jobs as they come, playing it safe with the projects you’re attached to.

You call Mia when you know production is at lunch, laying on your couch as you try and fail to bask in the peace granted to you by taking an emergency day.

“Hi,” you say as soon as the line picks up.

“Hey! How’d the appointment go?” she asks.

“Alright.” You shrug like she can see you. “Doc had some information for me, just thinking about it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mia asks. The bustle of background noise disappears as you hear a door click on her end.

“I’d like to think about anything but,” you say. “What’s going on there?”

“Ashton losing his mind in real time. Before we broke for lunch I was sure he was about to start shouting at people.”

“Great,” you sigh. “Looking forward to it.”

“At least you’ve got the holiday,” Mia says. “This is like your mid-week weekend.”

Right. Independence Day. You already know Mia has plans; she and Sam have been driving to the small, unincorporated town of Juliette for the holiday ever since she followed you down south. Every summer, she asks you to join them, and each time you say no. This year she didn’t bother to ask.

“I’m sure there’s stuff going on in the city,” Mia offers, “or you could go to Florida, hop on some boat for the night. Or follow Frankie.” She laughs as she says it, but the mention of his name has you perking up.

“What?” you ask.

“He’s headed to Florida tonight. Got this air show tomorrow, down at—shit, where was it? Pensacola something. Pensacola Beach.”

“You spoke to him?”

“He stopped by early this morning. Looking for you actually, but Priscilla told him that you’d called out,” Mia says.

“So Florida, huh?” You sit up, pulling your laptop off the coffee table.

“I mean why not?” Mia muses. “Maybe it could be good for you.” Her voice morphs into something softer, less amiable and airy.

“Yeah, maybe,” you say. You wedge the phone between your ear and shoulder, typing at your keyboard.

“But listen, whatever you get up to, text me alright? Even if it’s nothing.” Mia knows you well enough to predict your usual Fourth of July activities: curling up in bed with earplugs and a good DVD, the blinds drawn over your window. “I’ll send you some photos of the fireworks from the river.”

“Sounds good,” you say, half-distracted.

Mia mumbles her goodbye and you hang up, focused on the information passing your screen with every few clicks. In just a couple of minutes, you’ve found the Pensacola Air Show’s website. The when and where details of the event cover the landing page. There's several others, links leading to a detailed history of the show and images from past events that you skip right over. At the bottom of the tab sits exactly what you are looking for, clicking the highlighted link that says Pilots. Organized alphabetically, you find Frankie halfway down the list. What had Mia said? Or follow Frankie… Puppy, meet postman.

The picture used beside his blurb of professional experience is of a Frankie you’ve never seen before. He’s a little younger, clean-shaven in a pressed uniform, the American flag at his left shoulder. This must be his flight school portrait. He looks less weather-worn, all the weight of a life in the military yet to settle heavy over him.

In the following hour, you manage to book a room at some seedy motel in West Pensacola and pack a duffel bag with a day’s worth of clothes. You raid the kitchen, tossing bottles of water and a few granola bars in your bag for the road. Leaving at almost eleven o’clock, you set out for the very edge of Florida’s beaches.

The streets are quiet once again, the community of Cobb County asleep in their beds as you drive, stopping at an intersection. The security lights of the Kroger next to the road bathe you in a harsh white glow, lighting up the shadowy interior of the car. You look down at yourself, seated behind the wheel, ready to drive five hours and some change to go…watch planes circle between the sea and sky.

What are you doing? You aren’t quite sure at the moment. For once, the feeling is invigorating, not hapless.

It’s only when you start passing through Union City on the 403 that you begin to second guess your decision. You stop in East Newnan, the last “big” town for a little while, to use the bathroom. You buy a map and a gas station churro too, hunger getting the best of you; a stunning example of hypocrisy that you can never tell Frankie about. Something tells you he would never let it go.

The roads turn from the dry grey of asphalt to slick black, rain pooled onto the solid surface. A storm must’ve been through here recently, tall crops on either side of the highway swaying with residual winds.

Driving over the Chattahoochee River, you pull into the town of Opelika about twenty minutes later. You park away from the street lights in a Burger King parking lot, waiting for an oncoming bout of exhaustion to either pass or take you to sleep in the front seat. The radio buzzes softly from the car speakers, keeping the beat of your brain as your thoughts drift.

The question still remains: what are you doing, really? Are you so desperate for human connection that you’ll practically stalk the first person who piques your interest?

When you open your eyes again, the sky is light outside your windshield. Stores are still closed in the plaza around you. The car’s analog display tells you it’s barely seven o’clock in the morning.

Back on the road, you watch the world waking up through your windows. Montgomery, Hope Hull, and Letohatchee all pass by before you pull to the side of the road for a stretch. You take a bottle from your bag and chug water sitting on the hood of your car. You take your pills, looking up at the bright blue. Out here, far away from any city, the view is better than you could have imagined.

It’s another three and a half hours before you reach Pensacola, Florida. Eternal beachiness plagues the town, even in the suburbs away from the coast. The Western Inn slouches at the end of the street, sitting just off Mobile Highway with its rough, mint-tinted roof. Checking in at the front desk, a man certainly older than sliced bread hands you a set of jingling keys that unlock a room on the first floor.

The place is nothing special. The toilet is rusted, floors a weepy grey linoleum. The quilt that envelopes the bed is truly garish, dark red lilies and green palm fronds littering the expanse of the fabric. A sad room for your sad journey down to Florida, to see a man you hardly know do what he does best.

You never took a road trip before the accident. There are a lot of things that you never got to do, things that you’d be unable to now: hike across Europe, or drive a race car, or scale the side of the Empire State Building. A road trip seemed so out of the question—where would you go, what could you do—and yet here you are.

At noon, you take a rideshare to the beach. It’s a good thing, too—there’s barely a spot for the driver to idle and let you out of the car, never mind to park.

The sun beats down on you, hot and relentless, the air muggy with warmth. Still, the view of the water is beautiful. Beyond a crowding of luxury beach resorts, the water is as blue and clear as the sky. Waves rush up to the white sand every few moments, the foamy suds receding back into the ocean with its pull. When was the last time you went swimming? You should’ve brought a bathing suit.

Pensacola’s pier stretches out in front of you a thousand feet long. You stay on the shore, taking your shoes in your hands, balling your socks and stuffing them into the left one. The sand is soft on your skin. You dig your toes into its warmth, a small smile gracing your face. It has been so long since you’ve felt something like this.

An announcer farther down the water starts speaking into a microphone, her voice booming across the beach. She introduces the event, all business and no frills, before the sound of her speaking disappears again. The planes are off, moving in the sky before you have time to register what’s happening. Blue and yellow-striped navy planes—the Blue Angels, you remember from the website—jet into your field of view, puffy trails of white exhaust following them wherever they move. A half an hour passes, the blue jets trailing each other, flying upside down, and moving with the skill and synchronicity of an Olympic gymnastics team.

A fleet of five grey planes follow up the first performance, pulling stunts that moreso scare than amaze you. They fly in almost-circles, spinning around each other graciously in the sky before one parts from the group, dipping low. So low, you think the aircraft is about to skate along the water and fly into the Gulf of Mexico. The pilot pulls up just in time, shooting into the air at a thirty degree angle before circling back to join the identical planes.

That’s Frankie, it must be. In truth, you don’t know for sure, but you can feel it. The movements of the plane mimic that of his own, the casual sass of it all, like it’s no big deal. You imagine him in the cockpit, sweating but grinning under his helmet. Suddenly, you’re an expert in analysing the personal swagger of planes.

Another two hours passes in a blistering haze. Eventually, you put your shoes back on and take shelter in a gift shop, the sun too much for your body to handle. You buy lunch—a tall souvenir cup of freshly squeezed lemonade and a hot dog—before finding the only bench in shade left along the sandy strip. The sun eases up as more people filter away from this beach, either back to their cars or further along the sand towards Navarre.

You almost choke on the dregs of your pulpy lemonade when you spot him, Frankie, in line at one of the few other food trucks along the beach. Silently, you weigh your options. Going over and talking to him is fine, probably, but what if it isn’t? What if he thinks you’re a freak for showing up here, on this…public beach. Okay, maybe it’s fine. You can play this off as a funny coincidence.

You are up and walking over before you can think about it any longer, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. He turns, aviators protecting his eyes from the sun. Frankie says your name with an easy grin.

“Funny seeing you here,” he says.

“You too.” You shield your eyes from the sun.

He removes his sunglasses, hooking them in the collar of his t-shirt. “You down here for the show then?”

You hum. “Something like that.”

“Something like that,” he repeats, then nods.

When it’s Frankie’s turn to order, he steps up to the window and asks for waffle fries. “You want anything?”

“Oh no,” you say, shaking your head. “I just had a bite.”

“Gotcha.” He pays, then steps to the side of the line to wait for the food.

“Did you like it?” Frankie asks, cutting in on your thoughts.

“Sorry?”

“The show, d’you like it?” he asks again.

Right. The air show that you drove five hours to, rented a motel room for, bought a very overpriced rideshare to go see. That’s why you’re here.

“Yeah,” you say. “It was pretty cool. I kept half-expecting one of you to crash into the water.”

Frankie’s hand gets a gentle hold on your shoulder as he gives you a friendly pat. It burns at the skin exposed to his warm fingers. “That’s half the excitement,” he says.

When he’s handed a striped cardboard basket of waffle fries, Frankie absolutely douses them in both vinegar and orange seasoning salt. You try not to make a face. Clearly, you’re unsuccessful. The laugh you pull from his chest seems like it rips through him, up his throat and gloriously into the space between you.

Frankie starts to walk and you join him. He asks about the drive; you tell him you got here this morning, coming straight from Atlanta.

“I never realized how beautiful it is, away from everything,” you say.

“You don’t go camping often, I take it,” Frankie says.

You shake your head no, words clogging your throat like a knot once again.

“You should. I know this great spot, right up in Alabama too…” He ends his sentence there, blinking away whatever was supposed to follow it up.

“I wish. With work I barely have time to make dinner most nights.” Not untrue, but not the truth either. You could make time, somewhere in your calendar. Make use of the off-days between projects when all you do is rot against the mattress.

Frankie launches into a camping story from his childhood, when his dad drove them from Texas to Michigan in the dead of winter so they could both see some snow. The stay was tumultuous at best, your eyes widening as he tells you about how none of their gear worked properly.

“Really, I think the only thing that kept us alive for those couple o’ days was the campfire my pops kept up the whole time,” Frankie says.

The sun is setting slowly along the horizon now, the beach drawing a fresh crowd. The group is smaller than before, people awaiting the fireworks to begin popping off of luxury yachts in the distance.

“I have no idea how he did that, but I’m glad you didn’t freeze to death,” you say. “I would be royally screwed without a lighter or something.”

“You don’t know how to build a campfire?” Frankie asks.

“Nope.”

“Oh well, that’s gotta change.”

You two are back on the sand now, shoes in your hands as you walk along the grainy plains. He walks a little away from you, drifting to wherever a stray stick or smaller log lies on the ground. Once he’s collected a bundle of them, Frankie joins you again. He drops the wood to the sandy floor, sitting down in a deep hill of it. Then he’s scooping sand with his palms, leaving a hole in front of him. You sit down and join him, watching as he lays the varying sticks and driftwood into a nest of sorts.

Frankie takes one stick, running it between a deep wedge in one of the drier logs back and forth. After a few minutes of this, he sighs and pulls a lighter from his back pocket, lighting the stick before tossing it to the bed of wood.

“Had that worked, I would’ve been extremely impressed,” you say.

“Had that worked, I would have expected some sort of prize,” he says.

“I’ve got a solid high five or a pat on the back as consolation?”

Frankie raises his palm towards you, and you slap it eagerly. “That’ll suffice. I’m feeling consoled.”

“It’s too humid out here anyway. Luck is not on our side tonight,” you sigh.

“I don’t know. I feel it,” he says. You give him a curious look. “Lucky to do what I love, lucky to be here. Lucky you’re here.”

“I don’t know if luck has anything to do with it,” you say. You and Frankie have already had this conversation.

“Do you feel unlucky?” he asks.

“That’s a loaded question.”

“It’s just a question,” Frankie says. “But I know you’re squirrely about answering those.”

The sky is dark and the sun is gone, almost like it was never there. Fireworks start up behind you, beside you, in front of you. God bless America.

You mull over your usual two options. Deflecting—I’m honestly not that interesting. Or derisive—Not everyone can have a postcard perfect life.

You choose the outlier, a third option. The truth.

"You believe in a bad miracle?" you ask, your voice so quiet that the sound is almost swallowed by the fireworks. Almost.

"What do you mean, a bad miracle?" Frankie asks.

"Like, something unbelievable. Astonishing, you know? But maybe it's not good. Maybe it'd been better if it didn't happen at all."

"I guess," he says. "Why? Had any of those lately?"

You laugh, the sound small and stifled. "You know about the pills," you say—not a question, but a statement. Everyone knows about the pills. They're always on you, almost a part of you, chattering at your waist with every step.

"Yeah," Frankie admits. "Never asked. I didn't want to pry."

A long moment of silence draws on between you. It's your turn to speak, but you can't. What are you supposed to say? You've never told this story to anyone. Mia was there when it happened, and then she was at the hospital, explaining it all. After that, any doctor that you came across simply read your chart. No need for explanations.

"I had an accident," is where you start. "Two years ago. This shoot was weird. Underwater shit in Kaua'i. We were out along these rocks, away from all those beautiful beaches. I was supposed to dive, and like, swim down to the bottom.” Your voice cracks, popping like a candle wick. When did your face become wet with tears?

"So I dove, but no one signaled that there was a wave coming. The stunt coordinator was just entirely off his ass. I got flipped around right under the surface and the uh, the force from the wave knocked me—"

You can't remember everything now, couldn't remember when you woke up in a Hawaiian hospital either. You remember the searing pain after the surgery, the sensation that haunts you now, settled to a dull ebb with time and medication.

"I'm sorry," Frankie says.

"Not your fault. And anyway, I should be happy. Right? That's what the doctors said. That it was a fucking miracle I wasn't paralyzed, or something to that extent. And they’re right. It's a privilege that I'm not pissing myself all the time, that I can even sit here and bitch about it but..." you trail off. "It's kind of dark," is all you say.

"It's fine," Frankie says.

"Sometimes I wonder if it would've been better if I just hadn't made it. Like, this—this life? It’s my bad miracle." Nothing. Crickets. "Morbid, right?"

After a while, Frankie shakes his head. "No. I mean, yeah, but—" He half-shrugs. "My friend, Santiago? The asshole. He's kind of in a similar situation."

"Oh?" you question.

"They offered him another surgery, to fix the issue. He told me he asked if they were sure the procedure would kill him if anything went wrong this time," Frankie says. "So I guess that's his. Bad miracle, I mean."

There's something in his eyes, shiny and unobstructed for but a moment. A glint that makes you want to ask him, what's yours?

When Frankie looks away, he's seemingly snapping you from an overly open stupor as well. The weight of your words settles over you, a small look of horror flickering across your face before you reign it in against the dark.

You shift away from his body in the sand. You've just shoveled a small landfill of your bullshit onto this man, your coworker, and you can't take it back. You can see the words floating like the specks in your office. Bad miracle, hospital, paralyzed. You wish you could grab them from where they move between the two of you and shove them back into your mouth, down your throat where they would effectively die.

Frankie gives you a curious hum, eyebrows quirked as he looks at you under the brief, exploding lights in the sky.

"I should not have said all that. That was so unprofessional. I—"

He says your name, staring at you again. "It's fine. You're fine. We're not at work."

After a while, the waves lapping at the sand, you say, "This doesn't mean you get to pity me or anything."

"Pity you?" Frankie asks. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good," you say. "When people find out, or even just after the accident, it's like living a gravy train of apologies and expectations. Other people's sorrow."

"I mean, I get it. You can be sorry it happened," Frankie says.

"I guess. I don’t really understand.” Then, “Condolences feel like empty bombs of other people’s grief passed off to the grieving for defusal. What's anyone supposed to do with that?"

Frankie's looking out at the water, the fire and the sand forgotten now. "Commiserate," he says. "Better to suffer together than suffer alone. On the surface that sounds stupid, but when you're in it, you want someone to do it with you."

You can't help but disagree. This thing, it happened to you. You have to live with the outcome, sure, but why should everyone else? How does that make the thing better?

"I don't know if that's true," you say.

"For you," he says. "And really, I’d say that’s not even the truth either."

The fire crackles in front of both of you, lighting the wick of indignation in your throat.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that I've been trying to get to know you for weeks, and I think I was closer when you thought I was a carpenter here to fix the studio upholstery," Frankie says. The camp flickers and reflects in his eyes.

Suddenly, you wish you could implore that you don't like him, put the blame on that wicked crutch of an excuse. Unfortunately there's too much logical evidence against that; that first lunch interaction, the bar, here and now at the beach. Plus all the time you took considering it. Considering him. When did Frankie Morales start to take up so much space in your head?

So all you say is, “I’m sorry,” because there’s not much left but that. Your tears are dry on your face. Frankie’s hand finds yours in the sand, not holding it, but landing nearby. You don’t look at him, and you know his eyes are on you. Red, white, and blue flames light the sky.

The fire dies slowly, your signal to get moving again. If you leave now, you can catch a couple hours of sleep before the non-stop drive back to Atlanta.

You’re about to call a ride when Frankie says, “Let me drive you.”

“It’s fine, really,” you say. You’re split into two halves: the part of you that wants to run away from him, and the part that wants to pull yourself even closer.

“How long ‘til the car gets here?” he asks.

You look at your phone, reading the time estimate. “Twenty minutes.”

That’s all the confirmation that Frankie needs, nodding towards the parking lot as he puts his shoes back on. “Come on. My truck is over this way.”

Getting in is a bit of a struggle, Frankie mindful of the way your body twists as you try to get into the passenger seat by yourself. He ends up getting in on the driver’s side, leaning out of the opposite door to help you up, giving you an odd sense of deja vu.

Up here, you feel so far away from the road and the rest of the world. Sandy concrete turns to solid asphalt, the yellow lines blurring together as the truck drives by. You tell him the address of the motel, watching as he types it into his phone’s GPS at a red light.

Oh god. Oh god. Frankie Morales is taking you home right now. This cannot be happening. The truck is driving at sixty miles an hour. In another twenty seconds you are going to Charlie’s Angels roll out the door, that—

“I’m glad you came,” Frankie says.

“Huh?”

“I was kind of hoping you would. Come down, see the show.” All of his soul-delving seriousness is gone now, Frankie’s demeanor changed as he slides back into the casual banter you two share.

“That’s why you told Mia,” you say.

“Guilty as charged.”

“So that was the plan then? Get me down to Florida, build me a fire, I spill my guts?”

“Not exactly. But friendships formed from fire usually last the longest. Even if that fire is some pit on the beach,” Frankie says.

“I see,” you nod. Friendship. Friendship, friendship, friendship. That’s what this is.

The truck pulls into the dimly lit parking lot of the Western much sooner than you’d like. He walks you to the door, a true gentleman. You can’t figure out how to say goodbye, lingering just past the doorway and the open air.

“Well,” Frankie says. “Happy Fourth of July.”

“Happy Fourth, Francisco,” you return, intoning his full name to put up some sort of barrier. To scold yourself, a reminder of what your relationship to this man really is.

He rolls his eyes with a smile and a huff. “It’s just Frankie.” That should be it, the end of the interaction. Frankie still doesn’t move and neither do you.

This is taking too long, too much time passing for a farewell. You’re being obvious now, watching him watch you half in the dark. You shouldn’t have driven down here. You shouldn’t have gone to the air show. Those things can’t change now, but this can.

But then he takes a deep breath and starts to turn away from you. Your hand flies out and grabs his shoulder, because hell. There’s a lot of things you shouldn’t do. You kiss him, rough and slow, granting Frankie an out if he wants it. When he deepens the kiss, opening his mouth, it’s clear that he doesn’t.

Frankie moves his hands to your ribs, pushing his palms over your body to wrap behind you. You’re pulling him closer by his broad shoulders, noses squishing together a bit. He pulls away for a breath with that flash in his eyes you keep finding. The golden fireworks that sparkle and pop in the distance must be paid actors.

“Do you want to come inside?” you ask, voice strained. Extremely unprofessional, decidedly unplatonic.

“Yes,” Frankie says.

Who fucking cares about those things anyway?

tags: @wannab-urs / @anoverwhelmingdin / @iamskyereads &lt;3

[hyperesthesias]

Foresight & Respite

Notes: Boring. My inner Bronte came out again. Sorry. (I promise the next chapter [after Starlight Immemorial] is going to be really good. Viktor will have a spiritual sexual awakening.)

Context: Anya and Viktor are childhood friends from Zaun, who reconnected six months ago. Anya is a mage, theoretical physicist, and wealthy donor to the Academy. She is a different humanoid species, who lives for centuries. She has previously offered to become Viktor's patron, but he has worries about being unable to repay her. Anya is worried Viktor is being overworked, and offers her patronage again. They have their 'first fight'. Starlight Immemorial directly follows this chapter.

Tag List: @uniquedeerwitch @funcoolchickie (Please let me know if you would like to be tagged!)

AO3 link

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Days elapsed into weeks after the Symphony Ball, in which Viktor could not recall a time in his life spent without Anya. He was required to chaperone her to presentations and proposals given by department heads from the physics and astronomy college, where she listened with great attention and happiness to hear of the progress being made in the concept of light travel. After a myriad of lectures, she confided in Viktor that she had a contact at the energy research facility where she used to work, who had access to a hadron collider.

“Perhaps I can ask her for an appointment with the laboratory where it is located,” she suggested, excitedly. She walked with her companion among the halls of the Academy, from the physics college to the engineering department, where Viktor was set to lead the next lecture of Engineering 101. “That way, maybe you and your partner might be able to find some answers about the crystal, and what it can do.”

Viktor nodded and put the back of his hand, occupied with his daily notebook, to his mouth as he yawned.

“Certainly, I know the idea of visiting a hadron collider cannot be boring you,” she eyed him. “How much sleep did you get last night?” she asked and leaned to see his face. 

He tried to shy away from her prying judgment, but he conceded to her concern. “I got enough.”

“Your body disagrees.”

“My body disagrees with everything,” he miffed. They turned into the lecture hall, where he held the door open for her. The classroom was empty, and it allowed them to prepare for the first wave of students for the day. He settled himself at his desk, and set his notebook down, opening its pages to the lesson plan of the day.

Anya pulled down the chalkboards and erased the previous day’s scrawlings. “You do too much, Viktor. You cannot subsist on caffeine and curiosity alone.”

“It has worked so far,” he glanced at her.

She huffed and returned his look as she wandered to the edge of his desk, where a pile of papers sat, waiting to be distributed. “Have you thought about my offer?” She picked them up, and waited to see if he would reply. 

His sight broke from his notebook, but he did not look her in the eye; he did not have the wherewithal. Her offer had been exceedingly generous, and while its promise had crossed his mind repeatedly in the weeks they spent together, he gave it neither credence, nor consideration. Anya was the cause of so much gratitude in his life already, that should she be his benefactress, he would be indebted to her forever.

“My offer will always stand, Viktor. It will not expire,” she said, without a reply from him.

She passed out each paper to each desk within the lecture hall, and when she was finished, took her place at the side of his desk, waiting for the students to arrive. She found great joy in participating in the class as an aid – from distributing papers, to quietly answering students’ questions, and lulling a student’s infant, who lain restless in her mother’s arms during afternoon lectures. Being present there allowed her to mull over aspects of engineering she did not normally have the opportunity to think about. Though she, also, was adept in the mechanics of engineering, her work in the energy research lab had been primarily dedicated to the theoretical applications of light and radiation. She vigorously applied herself to the study of quantum energy, and how to pass an object of light from one point in time to another. Her desire was always to see the stars and mingle among them – one day, she promised herself, perhaps two hundred years thence, she would be able to see them for herself. But her calculations and her sciences had all been theoretical. Viktor was the machinist, even as a child – able to create a seemingly living thing from nothing at all: mechanized trinkets and autonomous beings that relieved his responsibilities of chores. Together, their knowledge was enviable and dynamic.

Two classes passed the day, and by the third, Viktor finished his second cup of coffee. He disliked its bitter taste, though Anya always had it sweetened perfectly to his liking. As the students filed in and began their quiz, he realized he did not know how Anya ordered his coffee, only that she knew to appeal it to his palate. The intimacy of his interests being perceived by another was foreign to him, though not unwelcome.

The class completed their quiz quietly and without incident, and Viktor leaned forward onto his desk to relieve pressure from his spine. He remained there for the entirety of the test, and by the time every student was finished, Viktor was still languid on his table. Anya peered over his shoulder, and saw his eyes closed, and his breath heavy and idle. He was asleep. She smiled to herself and ventured to wake him, but he did not rouse with her attempts.

Anya stood from grading papers, and gently took his notebook from under his elbow, where she read through the lesson plan he had written out: it was half in their native language, and half in the common tongue. The class was simple, and there were no topics of which she was unfamiliar, thus she proceeded to teach the final class of the day.

She enjoyed it thoroughly, and answered every question with grace and knowledge. She was a patient teacher, who expounded when necessary, and who had no qualms in walking among her students when they needed individual assistance. When her lecture was almost complete, the infant who was regularly toted to classes with her mother, began to fuss and whimper; Anya did not hesitate in continuing her offer to soothe the child – she had a pointer in one hand, and the infant in the other as she finished the lecture.

Viktor woke to the sound of students bustling and chairs scraping against the flooring. He was mildly disoriented, and could not perceive the time. When he opened his eyes, he saw his class filing to exit, and Anya at the head of the room smiling and playing with the child in her arms. Its mother was approaching her from the rear of the class, but Anya did not rush her or show her any impatience or malice. Instead, she took the child’s hands as they reached for the shimmering fabric of her veil, and kissed them. Viktor felt as if he was woken to another dream.

As the child was returned to its mother, Anya returned to Viktor’s side with a soft smile. She traced a finger along the edge of his face and placed her hand on his upper arm. “You cannot outrun your mortal needs forever,” she said.

He let a long sigh, and rolled his brow along his arm. “I can’t sleep.” He forced himself to sit upright and stand – he leaned heavily on his cane as he forced his exhausted legs to move against their will.

Anya began to pack their belongings and reset the classroom. “What troubles you?”

By the time she finished, he made it to the exit, where he held open the door for her. He leaned against its frame as he thought on how to answer her. “The night Jayce and I unlocked the crystal’s potential – the feeling of being weightless – it was…incredible.” He looked at her as she came to his side, still trying to find the words to describe it. “I felt…whole, again. A feeling I have not had since my earliest memories. Something I long to recreate.” They began to walk the halls of the Academy, towards his apartment near the laboratory. “My every waking moment is spent trying to decipher it, trying to apply it in a way where others can feel its benefit – where I can feel its benefit, again. But my energy is limited, and there are only so many hours in a day, until my body can no longer function.”

Anya remained quiet for a while, until they approached his apartment door, and she asked again: “Why will you not accept my offer of patronage?” Frustration laced her voice, that her friend would not accept a gift she readily gave: “Is it pride?”

He furrowed, offended, and unlocked his door. “No, it is not pride.”

“What is it, then?”

“It is unfair,” he insisted.

“If my offer is not enough, I can amend it –”

“It is unfair that I have nothing to give you in return,” he said.

“I do not want you to repay me. I want only your wellbeing.”

“No, Anya,” he contended. “You are stubborn.”

She drew back, insulted, but ventured to assume his ire was due to his lack of sleep. “I am not the only one who is obstinate.” Satisfied that her friend was safely returned to his home, she quitted him and the Academy.

Viktor sighed and leaned his head on the doorframe of his apartment. He had a preternatural fear of power imbalances and debts he could not repay. He saw them paid for in blood and slavery as a child in Zaun, and he vowed never to be placed in a position that could indenture him to the will of another.

As he settled himself into his apartment – removing his shoes and his tie as he reclined on the sofa, with a hand over his eyes – he felt foolish for projecting his fear onto Anya. She, of all others in his life, knew the primal fear of subjugation, and he felt ashamed that he would – even subconsciously – presume her of such a sin. The offer of her patronage was a reflection of herself: pure and kind-hearted, with little expectation of return; he called to mind the afternoons as children, where they would sit in silence, and she never attempted to pry from him a word or an answer. She was not stubborn for the sake of stubbornness itself, but she was eager in her generosity, a trait which was foreign to him. 

He reached for a drawer in the side table, and made from it a discreet pillbox; he took from it two pills and swallowed them dry. As his eyes drifted closed, he pondered the wording of the apology he owed her, which he would present to her the next day.

Viktor arrived at the lab in the late morning – he fell asleep on the couch, and remained there for the duration of the night; his back was sore, and his neck was stiff, it took him a half hour more than usual to ready himself for the day. When he arrived, he heard Jayce’s voice and laughter, and Viktor opened his notebook, searching for a scheduled meeting or a projected visitor; he found none in his calendar. 

Instead, as he entered the lab, he saw Anya standing over the workbench, she listened as Jayce described his vision for HexTech to her. She had her own notebook on the bench, with notations and suggestions written in their native language, which Jayce could not read.

“Viktor!” Jayce called to him. “Man of the hour. I was just telling our visitor about how you used mechanical resonance to stabilize the crystal.” While his words were true, he hoped their emphasis made a positive and lasting impression on Miss Anya.

Viktor eyed Anya and greeted her with a light bow of his head. She returned the gesture, but said nothing. “It was simple, really,” he cleared his throat, averting his gaze from her. “Crystals operate vibrationally – all it needed was some tuning.”

“And is it tuned now?” Anya raised a brow, referring to his attitude, rather than the crystal.

He nodded once, and pursed his lips, still shying himself from her regard. “Yes. It is…tuned.” Viktor gathered his decorum and straightened his back with a wince as he motioned from her to his partner. “Jayce, this is Miss Anya. She is a donor to the Academy; she graduated here from the Physics and Astronomy Department.”

“She’s more than that – she told me she’s the contact you’ve been sharing our notes with.” 

Viktor looked at her, pleased that she felt safe enough to divulge part of her involvement. “Yes, Miss Anya and I have worked together before.”

She took her notebook and began to approach Viktor. “We are friends.” 

Viktor knew she meant to educate Jayce on the nature of their relationship, but he also knew it was a reminder for him. He spent years friendless and alone, that he knew the reminder of its meaning was necessary. “Indeed.”

“May I speak with you, Viktor?” she asked. 

“Please,” he agreed and motioned for the hallway outside the lab. 

Jayce watched the pair exit the lab and disappear into the shadows; he could hear vague words in another tongue, hushed and reticent, and he wondered how they knew each other. Viktor never spoke of a romantic interest – he rarely divulged personal details about himself at all. But he recognized in Viktor a look of indelible love – great admiration and awe: he looked on her as if she were carved of marble, sacred and haunted, possessed with the spirit of some greater thing than he.

“I wanted to apologise for yesterday afternoon,” Anya said. 

Viktor shook his head, adamantly. “No – it is I who should apologise.” 

“I did not mean to pressure you, or make you feel uncomfortable,” she continued.

He sighed and put his head in his hand. “If I felt any discomfort, it was of my own making – not yours,” he paused and shook his head again. She looked on him with worried eyes, and saw what lay beneath him. It was futile to lie to her, or obscure any truth about himself. “I want to accept your offer. But nothing I do will ever be enough to repay you.”

“I know this worry weighs heavily on your heart,” she said and took his hands. “I have thought of a solution: I will be not only your patron, but your investor. That way, anything I have given to you, will be inherently paid off by the work you produce. You will never have to worry about a debt unfulfilled.”

His shoulders dropped as his breath fled from him, and a weight was relieved from his soul.

“Will you accept my offer, with these conditions?”

He nodded, still breathless, and his hands held onto hers with gratitude. “I do.”

“I hate to see you so tired…” she passed one hand along the darkness gathered beneath his eyes, “...my dear Viktor.”

“Forgive me for how I acted yesterday,” he said and kissed her hand. “My mind has been tired, and I have not felt myself.”

“Hopefully now you can rest – unworried about provision. Rest – though I know you despise it –, and dedicate yourself to the science you love. Leave the assistant work behind. You work for no one, but yourself."

"And Jayce."

Anya looked towards the lab, where the broad outline of his newfound friend could be seen in the distance. She hummed, unconvinced. “He is young. But he speaks with such conviction.”

“You doubt him?”

“I do not doubt his intentions for the good of all sentient beings, but he is sure of himself, and of his goals. Such conviction can make someone blind. It can cultivate hubris.” She looked at Viktor again, and pressed her fingers into his. “Follow your endeavours wherever they might take you – but do not forget yourself, my dear Viktor. Stay, always, my wonderful friend.”

He looked on her with curiosity, but heeded her nonetheless; his thumbs caressed the tops of her hands, and he nodded carefully in agreement. Her kind were blessed with the gifts of magic and foresight, and he wondered if there was some figment of the future to which she had been privy; but he hesitated to ask, and found himself afraid of her answer.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 11) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 4.0k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Background Relationships; Medical Appointments; Suggestive Comments; Discussion of Mental Health (Depression, Anxiety, Post-Partum); Discussions of Goose and Carole; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake move in together and attend your twenty-week appointment.

Series Master List

Master List

A week and a half later, you were moving into Jake’s apartment officially. The two of you, with some help from Phoenix and Coyote, had already moved all of the smaller items out of your apartment. Bradley and Mav also stopped by—when Jake wasn’t there—to take some of the more sentimental items to hold onto for you in their bigger homes. 

So, all that was left were a few pieces of furniture. You sold some of your furniture but decided to either keep or store or give away the other pieces. And that meant that someone had to drag it down the stairs and shove it into the back of Jake’s truck or the trailer that Maverick brought. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Jake stated, watching as you rearranged the chairs around the table. 

“What?”

“You’re not carrying anything. It’s all heavy and we’re not risking you hurting yourself,” Jake insisted, walking over to you. “Just relax.”

“I think I can drag a chair a few inches,” you stated, shooting Jake a playful look. “But I won’t carry anything heavy. Promise.”

“Thank you,” Jake replied softly. “How’re they today?”

“I think I’m feeling flutters, but I don’t really know. I only seem to feel them when I’m trying to sleep, so I don’t know if I’m imaging them.”

Your twenty-week appointment was about a week away and both of you were a bit anxious about it. Of course, every first-time parent worried about the worst case-scenario at that appointment. That they were going to get some kind of news that would change the little fairytale that they built up in their mind. 

“Only when you’re trying to sleep?”

“Yeah, I think so. Why?” 

“It’s like they’re teasing you. Or trying to stress you out more.” 

“They’re stubborn, that’s all.”

“They get it from both sides,” Jake replied, brushing his fingers down your bump. 

“Hopefully, they’re not too stubborn coming out,” you stated, glancing down at your bump as Jake took a step closer to you. Smiling up at him, you let out a chuckle. “What?”

“I’m just thinking about all the gas I’ll save when I don’t have to drive over here anymore," he explained, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“The gas, of course,” you hummed. 

You let out a louder giggle as Jake leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek and then down your neck. The two of you, since your kiss in the kitchen, had gotten a lot more comfortable and handsy with each other over the next few days. You hadn’t taken it all the way yet, both of you were still cautious about pushing too hard too fast, but you seemed to be moving in that direction. It was starting to remind you of how the two of you were before you found out that you were pregnant. 

Jake pressed a lingering kiss to your lips as his strong arms pulled you closer. And as you tangled your hand in his hair, returning the kiss, you heard the door to your apartment open. You turned your head and reflexively pushed Jake off of you when you saw Maverick standing there. 

“Hey, Mav,” you greeted awkwardly, running a hand through your hair. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course. Though you looked as if you weren’t expecting company,” Maverick quipped, working on his key ring. 

“I can explain,” Jake stated, causing Maverick to shake his head. 

“You already got her pregnant, Jake. There’s not much left to explain beyond that.”

“Mav,” you sighed, feeling like a teenager again. 

“Trailer’s parked out front. I didn’t know how you wanted to divide things up. Penny said that she would bring lunch over to your new apartment. And Bradley told me that he was leaving a couple minutes ago.”

“Great,” Jake replied dryly. 

“There's not too much left at least,” you stated, trying to perk Jake up. “But I have to give the key back to my landlord, Mav.”

Maverick pulled your spare key off of his chain and handed it over to you before turning to Jake. The two of them started to carry stuff downstairs to the trailer or Jake’s truck while you started to sweep up and do your final round of cleaning so that your landlord didn’t charge you extra. 

Jake and Maverick were out by the trailer, sliding your dresser into the back when Rooster walked over with his keys in hand. Leaning on the trailer wall, Rooster and Jake shared a glare before Bradley turned to Maverick. 

“Emma’s going to meet us there with Penny. I’ll text her when we’re finished up here.”

“We’ve still got a few trips left before that,” Maverick reported, walking over to Bradley. “We’re going to do the couch next.”

Bradley nodded and turned to head inside with Mav, leaving Jake to walk by himself. Jake wasn’t too perturbed. He was expecting the treatment from Bradley and the fact that Maverick hadn’t pushed him down the stairs after seeing the two of you together felt like a small victory. 

You were wiping down the counters when they returned to your apartment. You moved to greet your brother before the three of them walked over to your couch. You stood a bit nervously by the door, holding it open for them. 

“Please don’t hurt yourselves,” you told them as they started to carry it out. 

“We’ll be fine,” Jake assured you as he passed by. 

You watched them go before shutting the door. Moving over to the window, you sat down and watched for them. It was only three floors, but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to focus until the three of them emerged together. You weren’t so worried that the couch would be too heavy or anything like that. You were more concerned that they would use it to hurt each other. 

Jake and Bradley carried the ends of the couch while Maverick stood in the middle. Bradley stood on the lower set of stairs, simply because Jake wasn’t stupid and refused to step down first. Otherwise, he wasn’t confident that he would make it down to the bottom of the stairs. Not without a crack in the back of his head. Again, he wasn’t stupid. 

“Lift it up more,” Bradley grunted as they tried to turn one of the last corners. 

“I am,” Jake huffed back at him. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if you just did it,” Bradley snapped at Jake.

“Just lift, both of you,” Maverick stated firmly, shooting them both a look. 

They managed to walk around the corner with the couch and down the last set of stairs before setting the couch down on the floor to catch their breath and relieve their muscles. Bradley leaned on the couch, glaring over at Jake as Jake stretched his arms casually. Maverick was silent, but he was clearly watching them. 

“So, why are we moving my sister into your tiny apartment again, Hangman?” 

“Her lease is up and we’re having a baby together,” Hangman stated, like Rooster was as dumb as a brick. 

“And you couldn’t even get an apartment with enough room for a crib in it?” 

“Bradley,” Maverick stated, shooting him a look.  

“There’s enough room for a crib,” Jake snapped back at Bradley. “We already mapped it out. We wrote down the exact dimensions that we need. And even if we didn’t, it’s none of your fucking business, Rooster.” 

“Jake,” Maverick sighed, turning to the annoyed aviator. 

“It is my business when it involves my sister and my niece or nephew.” Bradley straightened up, staring Jake down. “She told me that you were looking at houses, but yet she said that she hasn’t been to any house showings. Why is that?” 

“None of your fucking business, Rooster.” 

“It’s not? Because it sounds like you’re selling a fantasy to my sister that you’re never actually going to deliver.” 

“That’s enough,” Maverick replied to both of them. 

“You would want your sister to just move into the first house that we found and could close on?” Jake stated, staring Bradley down. “We’re looking. But there’s other things that are more pressing that we have to deal with. But again, it’s none of your fucking business.” 

“And does she know that? Have you told her that?” 

“Alright, pick up your ends, let’s get it put into the trailer,” Maverick snapped, effectively ending the argument. 

You watched from above as Jake, Bradley, and Maverick walked out to the trailer with the couch. Letting out a breath of relief, you got up and turned to clean once again. There was just the tables, chairs, and another small dresser left, which Jake, Bradley, and Maverick carried down in three more trips. 

When it was all cleaned up, you took a moment to walk through the empty rooms, reminiscing about the memories that the place brought you. It was a sanctuary for you for a time. An escape, really. But it was an apartment for a version of you that was quickly disappearing and in a few short months would be gone completely.

You had grown out of it. And it was time to move on. 

“You alright?” Jake asked softly, standing at the threshold of the apartment.

“Yeah,” you replied, turning to him with a small smile. “I’m okay.” 

Picking up the keys, you walked over to Jake, pressed a kiss to his lips, and headed out. And into the new phase of your life. 

~~~~~

You and Jake arrived at your shared apartment first, since Maverick and Bradley were dropping off some stuff at their respective houses first. Penny was waiting for you in the parking lot and Jake assured you that he would be fine carrying everything himself. 

“So, how’d moving out go?” Penny asked you as you walked up the stairs. Your now shared apartment was on the third floor, so it was one less set of stairs than your previous apartment. “Pete gave me a brief overview.” 

“He probably knows better than me. He was the one who was dealing with them,” you sighed, pulling out your new set of keys. “I just want them to be able to coexist. They don’t have to like each other. Hell, they don’t even need to speak to each other. I just need them to be able to sit in the same room and not try to kill each other.” 

“They’re both stubborn and set in their ways,” Penny replied, shaking her head. “Have you talked to Emma about Bradley?” 

“Yeah, but there’s only so much she can do. Ever since Mom died, he’s always felt the need to be so protective over me. And I appreciated it sometimes but now I don’t need it now. I just want him to be happy for me. For us, me and Jake.” 

“He will. Maybe he just needs to see Jake supporting you—not that he isn’t already—for that to start to happen.” 

“He better get over it by the time I have this baby or I swear,” you muttered, moving to unlock your front door. You turned to Penny with less annoyance in your features. “You know, I really want to make Bradley and Emma the baby’s godparents. And the baby’s guardians if something were to happen to the both of us and—” 

“—Don’t talk like that,” Penny interrupted you, grabbing your shoulders. 

“Penny,” you sighed as the door shut behind her, “I’m not living in some delusion where I don’t think that bad things can happen. And I want it all written down and signed and everything before I give birth or just in case Jake gets dragged away.” Placing a hand on your bump, you looked down. “I want to be prepared.” 

“Hey, today is a happy occasion. You can focus on that stuff at another time. Right now, just enjoy the fact that everyone is healthy and that you’re moving forward in your relationship with Jake, okay?” You nodded slowly and Penny pulled you in for a tight motherly hug. “And that’s why I got you a gift.” 

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Penny.” 

“I know, but I saw it and just thought of you,” Penny replied, pulling away and reaching into the bag that she brought. 

“And you definitely didn’t need to wrap it,” you mused, taking the box from her hand. 

Gently tearing at the wrapping paper, you glanced up when the door opened and Jake walked in, carrying your nightstand and dragging a suitcase behind him. You shot him a smile as he glanced curiously down at the gift in your hands. 

“What’s that?” 

“Just a small gift,” Penny insisted, smiling kindly. 

You tore away the rest of the wrapping paper and pulled out a rectangular plaque. You were a bit confused when you noted the three raised squares, but when you read the painted letters above them, it all clicked.

The message of ‘Daddy’ + ‘Mommy’ = ‘Baby’ was so simple, yet so emotionally overwhelming.  

“You’re supposed to put your handprints here,” Penny explained, pointing at the squares. “Jake can put his handprint here and then you can put yours there and then when your baby comes, you can put their handprint there. They recommended red and white for your hands if it’s a girl, so that her handprint is pink. Or white and a darker blue if it’s a boy, so that his handprint would be a baby blue. And you can paint the baby’s name below the square too, right there.” 

“I love it,” you croaked out, emotions quickly bursting to the surface. “Thank you, Penny. I love it, I love it so much.” 

You pulled Penny back in for a tight hug, tears starting to stream down your cheeks. Jake looked on, concerned, but Penny gave him a reassuring smile and mouthed that it was alright. And when Jake continued to look concerned, Penny whispered ‘hormones’ to him. Jake nodded slowly and gently took the plaque from your hands. 

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” you breathed out, wiping them away hastily. “It just hit me all of a sudden.” 

“It’s been a long day. You’re making big steps. It’s a lot to take in all at once.” 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, trying to get a reign on your emotions again. Turning back to Jake, who was still staring at you with a measure of concern. “Where do you think we should put it up, once it’s complete?” 

“Somewhere everyone can see it,” Jake suggested, causing you to smile and nod in agreement. 

~~~~~

Since most of your stuff was already at Jake’s apartment, it didn’t take too much longer to fully make it your shared space. And you already made space in the living room for baby stuff. It was still early, you knew, but the alternative was researching about what horrible things you could find out at your twenty-week appointment, so you kept on decorating. 

But today was the day, so you supposed that you couldn’t push it off anymore. 

Waiting a bit anxiously in your car, you let out a breath when you spotted Jake’s truck pull into the lot. You grabbed your purse and slipped out of your car, walking over to where Jake parked. He got out of his truck, dressed in his day uniform, and quickly moved to your side. Pulling you in for a gentle hug, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Are you alright?” he asked you, causing you to nod against his chest. “Everything’s going to be fine. Whatever we find out, it’s going to be fine, okay?” 

Jake locked up his truck before the two of you headed inside the office. You checked in and sat down, filling out some paperwork while Jake rested his arm behind your back. And when your name was called, the two of you silently walked back to the exam room. Laying back on the exam table, you stared at the ceiling as Jake rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. 

A knock at the door made you sit up and move to the edge of the examination table. Your obstetrician walked inside the room with a kind smile. It started off as any regular doctor’s appointment would. You went over your symptoms, your pains, your bloodwork, and everything else before moving onto the ultrasound. 

You immediately reached for Jake as the wand touched your belly and he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. She moved it around, typing away at her computer, taking a few images and measurements, before turning to you with a reassuring smile. 

��Your baby’s growing normally and as they should. Everything is measuring normal. They’re a little smaller than average, but nothing to be concerned about. They’re still a perfectly healthy and normal size.” She typed something else before turning back to you and Jake. “Do you still want to wait to know the baby’s sex?” 

“Yes, please,” you answered quickly.

“Alright, well, I’m just going to turn the screen briefly,” your obstetrician replied, hiding the information from you and Jake. 

“You can tell?” you asked quietly.

“Yes, but all the files are marked to keep that information completely private. Unless you change your mind, of course.” 

You nodded and shared a look with Jake, who pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Your obstetrician typed away again before moving the screen back to your view. And as she continued to tell you that everything was normal and healthy, you sunk in and started to relax and enjoy the moment. 

“Your baby seems to be a bit stubborn,” your obstetrician noted, trying to move the wand around your belly again to take some more measurements. “They start to cooperate and then seem to decide not to about three seconds later.”

“That’s not shocking,” you mused, watching the movement of your child on the screen. “Stubbornness is probably genetic for them.” 

After a few more pictures, your belly was wiped off and you sat up once again. Your obstetrician smiled kindly as she sat down on her stool in front of you. Jake sat beside you, more relaxed than when he walked in, but still alert, as your obstetrician turned to you.

“Alright, there’s just a few more screening questions and then we’re all set.” 

“Of course,” you agreed, nodding slowly.

“Mr. Seresin,” your obstetrician stated, causing Jake to turn to her. “Did you want to go and grab the ultrasound photos? A tech can bring you back there. And you can ask them any questions of your own about the process.” 

Jake hesitated for a moment but agreed and got up from his seat. You squeezed his hand in goodbye before he exited the room with one of the techs. Your obstetrician waited until he was gone before turning to you.

“At the twenty week appointment, we usually perform a screening of your mental health.” After you nodded, she began. “Have you ever had a history of mental illness? Anxiety? Depression? Eating disorders? Anything like that?”

“Yes,” you answered softly. “Depression and anxiety.” 

“When?” she asked, poised to type down the information.

“My mother passed away when I was twelve. And after that, I was diagnosed with depression and put in talk therapy for a time. But I stopped that when I was eighteen. And they put me on anti-anxiety medication when I was sixteen.” 

“Are you still on that medication?”

“No, I stopped it about a year afterwards. I was just going through a lot at the time and talk therapy wasn’t working completely. It was just to get me through that time and then I didn’t need it anymore.” 

“Have you had any flare ups since then?” 

“A few times,” you answered honestly. 

“You didn’t go back to talk therapy or medication or anything?”

“No, I just . . . waited for it to get better, I suppose. Probably wasn't the best decision, but I survived.” 

“Can I ask why you didn’t return to therapy or medication?” 

“Honestly, the only reason I went to therapy or went on medication when I was a teenager was because I had people in my family push me in that direction. But when I was an adult, I just . . . I wanted to just handle it quietly.” 

“Well, please document if you feel any depression or anxiety during your pregnancy and your postpartum period. It’s an overwhelming time for anyone and there’s no shame in asking for help of any kind.” Your obstetrician paused before asking softly, “Do you trust your partner to help you if you feel depressed or anxious?” 

“Yeah,” you answered honestly, nodding along. 

“And are you two living together?”

“Yes, we are.” 

“And you feel safe in that living situation? Do you feel safe and confident about bringing your baby into that environment?” 

“Yes, completely.” 

“Alright, well, please just document if you feel anxious or depressed.” She stood up and grabbed a pamphlet and handed it to you. “You can always call our office or there’s a helpline that you can call at any time. And there’s no shame in any of it.” 

“Thank you,” you replied, thumbing through the pamphlet. 

~~~~~

That night, you and Jake laid in bed, looking at the photos from your ultrasound together. You were curled up on his chest, resting most of your weight on him as Jake wrapped his arm around your waist, cupping your continuously growing bump with his hand. 

“Were you a small baby?” you asked Jake softly, staring at the ultrasound picture of your baby. 

“What?” he questioned, turning to you with some confusion.

“Were you a small baby when you were born?” you repeated for him. “She said that the baby was smaller than average.” 

“I never asked,” Jake replied, a bit elusively. 

“I was normal weight, according to my mom,” you stated, still staring at the photo. “Bradley was a large baby with a big fat head, but I was normal weight and size. Mav said that after I was born, my mom told my dad that she wished that I was born first. It would have been an easier delivery, she told him.” 

“You think that they’ll stay smaller?” 

“I hope so,” you mused with a smile. “I’d prefer a six pound baby to a ten pound baby, thank you very much.” You turned to Jake with a soft look in your eye, resting your head on his shoulder. “Your mom never complained to you about how big your head was or how you were overactive in her belly or anything like that?” 

“No,” Jake replied shortly. 

Your smile slipped a bit and you turned back to the ultrasound photo. Jake rubbed his hand slowly up and down your bump, soothing you in one way but making another part of you wander from his side. 

“Can I take this one?” Jake asked, causing you to turn back to him.

“What?”

“Can I take this one with me?” Jake asked you again, pointing at one photo from the roll. “I was thinking about putting a photo from the ultrasound in my cockpit. If that’s alright with you.” 

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, nodding to him and offering him a smile. “I think that’s sweet.” 

Jake nodded in return and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The two of you turned in for the night shortly afterwards. Rolling onto your side, you rested your head on your hand, staring out at the window. Jake gave your bump one last loving squeeze before moving away to fall asleep. And although you were exhausted and needed sleep, your mind kept you awake.

Staring at the window again, you paused when you felt that little flutter again. You smiled to yourself and glanced down at your bump.

“Right as I’m trying to go to sleep? Again?” you teased quietly. 

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[darkness-and-books]

The Things We Do For The Fleet

Chapter 3: Appointments To Keep

💙eventual Leonard McCoy x fem!reader💙

⚠️: tiniest bit of language, drinking(Bones pours himself one drink)

word count: 842

<-Previous-Next->

Y/N and Uhura stuffed away their food as quickly as they could manage without choking on it, which Y/N did anyway, but was back in action after a few pats on the back from Uhura. They were practically buzzing with anticipation as they put their trays on the rack next to the replicators. “Come on!” Uhura urged, “I need to smell this cotton candy flower!” she shouted as they ran off the mess deck and down to the botanical labs. As they came up on the fluorescent lights of botanical lab 3, Y/N unlocked the door and ushered Uhura in. “Shh!” Y/N giggled, “We have to be quiet, you’re not meant to be here because I haven’t finished all my tests,” Y/N warned lightly through a slowly dying fit of giggles. “What’s it do so far?” Uhura asked in wonder as she reached out to touch it,

“I wouldn’t touch it unless you’re prepared to be really happy” Y/N said as she batted Uhura’s hand away. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Well so far it’s pretty harmless, aside from the fact that when you touch it, it opens up its blooms and spurts a puff of pollen. I don’t quite understand the chemical breakdown yet, but when you inhale the pollen you get a bit of a dopamine high” Y/N said as she turned a bright shade of pink. “How’d you figure that out?” Uhura asked with a raised brow and a smirk. “I touched when I was studying its petals, I spent the rest of my shift giggling to myself with the lights set on blue” Y/N admitted. A knock came at the door, Y/N jumped at the noise, “Quick, hide behind the aquaponics shelves” Y/N pointed at the shelves and pushed Uhura that way. Y/N opened the door, “Oh, hello mister Spock” she greeted quietly, “I wasn’t expecting you, what brings you around?” Y/N wondered to him. “I’m here to inform you of the new rooming arrangements,” Spock stated, “Uhm, new rooming?” Y/N asked nervously as she twisted the cuff of her uniform shirt. “Yes,” he started as he flipped through his padd briefly, “You will be roomed with Dr. McCoy. I understand that it is not customary to room a male and female, but unfortunately Dr. McCoy and yourself were the last two picked, so there really isn’t the room to switch your roomings,” Spock informed, paused for a short while to look down at Y/N. “Okay,” Y/N accepted meekly, “You have until the end of the week to notify myself or Captain Kirk, of who’s room you’ll be consolidating into,” Spock nodded curtly before turning on his heel. “Also, Ms. Y/L/N, please send lieutenant Uhura up to the bridge,” Spock noted as he turned back momentarily to glance at the aquaponics shelves. “Uhura, I think you’ve been caught,” Y/N giggled softly as Spock opened the door again and walked away. “Well it was nice to see this thing anyway,” Uhura said sadly as she followed Spock out the door. I don’t think I’ve met Dr. McCoy, Y/N thought as she went to mist the new flower.

Where the hell is that green blooded pocket calculator?!? He’s late, what happened to all that punctuality nonsense from the other day!?, Leonard was waiting, rather impatiently, at his desk for the aforementioned Vulcan to show up for his physical. “About time!” He hollered as Spock finally walked into the medbay. “I apologise for being late, I had one more errand to attend to, there was just one more person who needed to be informed of the new rooming arrangements,” Spock explained himself. These words were to Leonard’s utter horror, as he realised this meant Y/N had been told before he could get to her. Not that Jim’s gotten back to me on where to find her, he began leading Spock into an exam room. “Where are Y/N’s quarters right now?” Leonard asked as he finished Spock’s exam. “I believe that at the moment her quarters are only three doors to the left of your own,” Spock informed with a raised eyebrow. “What?” Leonard asked, “We’re about to live in the same quarters, this is the least personal thing I’ll learn about her,” Leonard defended. “I’m sure that’s true,” Spock agreed as he left the medbay. This is gonna be awkward, he entered his office and slid into his chair before pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He downed his glass and headed back to his quarters. He began to put his things neatly into boxes, he already knew that anyone on board had to have more things than he did, so it just made sense that if all he had was paperwork and clothes, he should bring his things to Y/N’s quarters and not the other way around. Leonard looked around his quarters to see it tidier than it had probably been since he first moved in. Wow, it doesn’t even look that different, he looked around seeing for the first time that it had always been fairly empty.

I feel like I’m on a roll here. I didn’t even think I had it in me to write a multi part fic. Anyway, hope you like ❤️

~I used Pixlr to generate an image of what the cotton candy flower might look like~

[robinruns]

🥴 I think we set a new record fellas. I have already reached the out of pocket that I will pay for the year for my insurance. My deductible isn't met yet, but my company pays the difference between our like old deductible and the new higher deductible that we had to take because SOME PEOPLE (me) were driving up the rates on the insurance by using so damn much of it!

(To be fair it probably wasn't all me with my therapy and chiropractor visits, but I mean, I didn't help any lol)

So now I'm thinking about scheduling my annual physical and then maybe asking for a consult with an ob/gyn on whatever they need to 1. Get my IUD out because it pulled the ladder up behind it 🙃 and B. Just take out everything down yonder. I don't want it. I don't need it. Someone else can have all of it, I don't care! I really don't wanna have any risks or concerns if things go sideways and we're suddenly in my least favorite book of all time. I'd potentially have to schedule all this around a procedure my mom will likely need as well. I'd probably try to aim for post-race season, but who knows. I should probably get my biannual derm appointment to get my skin checked out as well.

Today I had a facial and she did a bunch of extractions on my forehead, which made me feel like I needed to sneeze. Next week I have my optometrist and dentist appointments too, so I'm just gonna be getting all worked over. Oh and my therapist, who might be going on maternity leave any second now wants me to move up my psychiatrist appointment because I need to be reassessed for the good ol ADHDs.

Why is human maintenance so difficult? Why is it that I try to take care of myself and I just spiral into needing 10000 things fixed, whereas Kyle like hasn't been to the doctor in ages, has never been to an optometrist, chiropractor, or therapist, only recently started going to the dentist regularly, doesn't diet, doesn't work out, loses weight just by thinking about it like ?!?!?! His only problem is like an annual kidney stone.

Sigh. At least I don't have kidney stones (knock on wood)

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dark Passenger - Chapter Fifteen.

I wanted to update this yesterday, but I had to go into hospital to be checked over (don’t worry, I’m fine, just tired as I was there until 12:30am) so here, apologies for it being a little late! Again, 40 notes to unlock the next chapter. Don’t let me down!

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen

Words - 3,506 

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

“Sit, good girl. Spin, good girl! Alright, speak. Yeah, you’re smart as hell. Give paw, yes! Here you go.” Sitting in the afternoon sun two weeks on from his diagnosis, EZ enjoyed the simple pleasure of going through Sally’s tricks repertoire with her, feeding her little mouthfuls of chicken as a reward. With his medication now coursing through his system, he felt clearer headed than he had in a long time, the darkness within him caged off, the beast placated, no longer running rampant through his brain. Gone. All gone.  

Well, except for the dark passenger that remained. The dark passenger he hoped his impending radiotherapy treatment would be successful in shrinking enough for it to be removed via surgery, EZ fresh from his early afternoon appointment with Doctor Ruiz, his oncologist. She was very confident that an aggressive schedule of radiotherapy would see results, but had warned him that because of the fact they were upping the dosage of radiation to as high as safely possible in an attempt to thwart the tumour’s size and progress along with the drugs, he was likely going to feel like hell.  

The course would last for six weeks, his treatments every day for five out of seven days. Because of the fact that he was likely going to succumb to the side effects, and also was forbidden from riding or driving while going through his treatments, he’d put control of the club into Bishop’s capable hands for the duration, his VP vouching that he would run things smoothly, and all he had to concentrate on was getting better.  

Now that he’d actually decided to do so, now that he realised his life was worth fighting for.

That fight, it was less for himself and more for the family who had pleaded with him to reconsider, seeing his father moved to tears, telling him that he couldn’t bury his son, Angel and Bella also tearfully speaking of their love for him, and unwillingness to let him resign himself to something that wasn’t set in stone. Also, the little slither of optimism that if he lived, he could begin putting the wrong things right that he’d had come to him while he was in the hospital was a voice that had eventually grown so loud, he couldn’t ignore it. Dying wasn’t an option at this point.  

Still, though, he was set in his stance over one person in particular, which was a conversation he found himself having with his sister-in-law, watching her pull up in the yard, Sally wiggling with excitement over her arrival, making happy chirruping noises of delight once she saw Bella climb from her car.  

“Go get her!” Letting go of her collar, Sally hurtled over, Bella cooing ‘my sweet baby!’ while bending to lovingly stroke her face and ears. “How the hell you drive in those heels, I’ll never know.”

Bella looked at her feet and back at him. “Natural bloody talent.” Reaching him, she leaned to kiss his cheek, EZ returning the gesture before she sat down at his side. “How’d your appointment go?”

“Not bad,” he said with a slight shrug, Sally settling in at his feet. “They’re starting next Monday, if you’re still alright to take me there and run me back again? I realise you’re busy with writing, so if you can’t then don’t stress, I can get a cab.”

Bella had offered to take him for his treatments, since she had little in the way of physical commitments other than her twice weekly meets with the band to brainstorm and rehearse their new material. “Of course, it’s alright, you daft lump!” She nudged him with affection, stroking his forearm. It was lovely to have the brother-in-law she remembered back again, but Christ, it was at such a cost. “What time do we have to be there?”  

“8am. I know it’s quite early, but at least it gets it out of the way and means you’re free for the rest of the day then.”  

“Oh, your brother is going to be so pissed off. That’s his horny time,” she chuckled, EZ arching an eyebrow.  

“Surely with Angel, that’s any time he has sex on offer?”

Her snort laugh had him smiling in an instant. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true!”

“So, how’s your day been? And shit, how’d you get that? Looks sore.” Pointing to the bruise he could see forming on her inner elbow, he winced a little.  

“I’ve been taking pole dancing classes with Camille. She doesn’t charge me, and I get to do it in an environment where I don’t feel embarrassed by my thoroughbred knees, like I would in a room full of other people, so Amelia and I go to her house twice weekly around her work. She isn’t in today, so we had a morning session and then went for lunch.”

At hearing his ex’s name, his heart jumped sadly in his chest. “How is she?”

Pulling her cigarettes out, Bella lit up before replying. “I ain’t gonna sugar coat it, mate. She’s sad without you.”  

His response had left the tip of his tongue before he could process it, delivered on a soft snort. “She shouldn’t be.”

“Well, she bloody is,” Bella affirmed, trying not to be too abrupt in tone, failing somewhat. At least now she knew she wouldn’t get her head bitten off for it, being able to relax a little and not have to watch what she said, or be cautious of the tone of her delivery, save antagonising him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, but she’s so in love with you. All she wants is for you to go back to her.”

“Bella, I can’t.” He dropped his head, looking down to where his fingers stroked swirls into Sally’s coat. “I lied to her, I cheated on her, I hit her, and I manipulated her. I know it wasn’t me, but I still did it. I don’t deserve someone as pure and beautiful as she is. I don’t. I’m not worthy of her.”  

Cocking her head until she caught his eye, she rested her hand on his forearm. “Don’t you think that’s for Camille to decide? Tell her your truth, and then let her be the judge of whether she wants to be with you.”  

He saw that there was a certain amount of sense to her words, her reasoning quite fair, but he remained resolute. “Can’t do it. Because if it is a worst-case scenario – and I’m not saying it definitely will be – but if it is, I don’t want to cause her any further pain. She’s too good for it.”

She nodded, but couldn’t help but offer another little nugget over her friend’s current state of mind regarding him. “She’s in pain already, EZ. Being without you.” Seeing her husband turning the corner in approach, she squeezed his shoulder before getting up, meeting Angel halfway with a kiss, while EZ felt like he’d just received a particularly acute punch to the gut. He could have done without hearing that, but held no grudge against Bella for revealing it. Being his family, but also friends with Camille, he could see she was trying to be loyal to them both.

While he sat in quiet contemplation, Angel and Bella headed out for lunch together, the topic of discussion eventually landing on what she and EZ had been speaking of.

“Well, I think he’s insane, having a sweet, gorgeous chick like that still wanting to be with him, but that’s EZ all over. He fucks shit up and then acts like one of those, what do they call them…” Trailing off, he snapped his fingers, frowning with concentration. “Those dudes who like pain inflicted on ‘em.”

“A masochist?” Bella offered, spearing a cherry tomato from her plentiful salad with her fork.

He clicked his fingers again, pointing at her. “Yeah, that’s it. Thank you for being the thinking part of my brain when it’s being slow-moving, my darling.”

“Hey, that’s my husband you’re bad mouthing,” she spoke through a mouthful of tomato and spinach.

“I know I ain’t the sharpest knife in the damned drawer at times, B. Besides, nobody has it all, and I got the gorgeous face, the hot body and the hella big dick, so I ain’t too pressed.”

She snorted on giggle, winking and sipping her wine. “Yes, you absolutely do, big sexy. I’m adamant in my stance that you’re smarter than you think.” Leaning across the table, she gave him a kiss, stealing one of his fries and receiving a slapped hand for it, Angel muttering something about her never ordering them as a side but always happy to steal his. “Anyway, we were talking about EZ and Camille.”

“We were,” he began, glaring when she stole another fry. “God damnit, woman! Quit it!”

“What? It was only two!”

Catching the eye of a passing server, he beckoned her over. “Can we get a side of fries here, please? Before I take my wife and throw her into that little fountain you guys have out front.”  

The server looked entertained, Bella poking her tongue out at Angel. “Sure, sir. Regular or truffe?”

“Ooooh! Truffle, please!” she confirmed, Angel exclaiming in annoyance further.

“And now I can’t steal any back because truffle tastes like burned plastic!”

She giggled, sipping her drink again. “So, back to EZ and Camille. I think he’s mental too, to be fair. I mean I get that he’s going through a hell of a lot, I honestly do, but having her there for him, supporting him while he goes through it, I can’t see why he’d turn that down, why – as you put it – he's being somewhat masochistic about it all and punishing himself for something he couldn’t help.”

“Because he thinks it’d be selfish, and he’s been like that enough towards her as it is.”  

Bella pursed her lips a little, nodding slowly. “Yep, you’re right. Thinking on it, that’s exactly what he’s doing. I wish he wasn’t, though. For his sake and hers.”  

Angel shrugged, resting his hand atop hers. “No matter how crazy we think he is, I guess we just gotta respect what he wants. Even though he’s hella wrong.”  

The four days between then and EZ’s treatment beginning seemed to pass by in a blur, until the night before was upon him, EZ taking Sally for a two hour walk before returning to an empty clubhouse, figuring the guys likely thought he needed the peace and quiet of his own company, leaving the space vacant.  

The truth was, he was looking for any distraction he could. He was nervous. Who wouldn’t be at the prospect of having something that - in greater, less contained doses, of course - killed people, burning their skin and internal organs, and left entire cities poisoned and inhabitable when unstably released into the atmosphere.  

And it was being beamed into his brain, almost every day, for a month and a half.  

“So long as it shrinks the fucking thing, I suppose.” he muttered while scrolling through the menu of the local pizza shop, before remembering that his buddy Horace had recently branched out into deliveries. Oxtail, rice and peas and hard food it was. With a side of festival. He was starving. It was surprising he had an appetite at all, but then reasoned he hadn’t for most of the day, only fuelled by coffee and the few swigs of apple juice he’d had, plus a handful of almonds.  

“Might as well eat while you still feel like doing that.” Loss of appetite had been noted as one of the possible side effects, and if not that, then he knew the most common, the nausea and vomiting would likely mean that sustenance would fall to the bottom of his priorities list. Well, at least it wouldn’t hit him at once. Doctor Ruiz had advised it would likely begin to affect him after the second or third week.  

When the morning came, he was remarkably calm, leaving Sally sleeping on his bed and heading outside the yard to meet Bella, who was a few minutes early. Getting the first treatment over and done with was the easy part, he found, the nurses all lovely, the radiographer absolutely hilarious, setting him at ease with his infectious laugh and similar humour.  

“So, you got your music for me?” he asked, EZ pulling his cell out. He was told that he could make a playlist that the radiography team could play while he was undergoing treatment, Doctor DiMarco taking his phone from him and snort laughing at the name of the folder.  

“Chernobyl tunes,” he hissed. “Oh my lord, you’re a funny one, Ezekiel. Okay, you just lie there and get comfortable, a nurse will be in shortly with the mask you’ll have to wear for the duration of the treatment to keep your head nice and still, and off we go, my friend.”

Lying back on the table, EZ felt quite composed, giving the nurse a big smile when she came in, fitting him with the netted looking mask, EZ still being able to see through the thousands of tiny holes within it, being told that the treatment would begin momentarily before she left the room. Hearing the opening bars of the song Protection by Massive Attack filtering through the speakers, EZ closed his eyes as the machine above him began to hum.  

He’d chosen that song because prior to his relationship with Camille, he’d never heard of the band, but spent many evenings lying in her bed listening to them as they talked, EZ now wishing with everything he had that those moments had been more genuine from his perspective. She truly was wonderful.  

A few more minutes passed as he continued to think of her, a realisation hitting him; those moments, even steeped in the fact they’d come from a dark place, they must have been more genuine, for him to be sitting there drawing comfort from them now, remembering lying with his head in her lap as she’d stroked his hair, laughing at something he’d said, listening intently to him, being her wonderful, beautiful self.  

Maybe it was why it hurt so damned much now he had chosen to be without her, because while his intent hadn’t always been genuine, his love for her very much had been.  

Now he could separate between his true self and the changes that were because of his dark passenger, it made it worse in a way for him, to know just what it had demanded of him. If he could press a knife into his own head and cut the damned thing out himself, he would. He’d bleed rivers of blood for it to be gone, for it never have hampered him in the first place, to have never hurt Camille as badly as he had. It was a regret he knew he’d live with for a long time, or at least until he got over her, what he’d done to her, too. He was still emphatic about them not getting back together.  

The first two weeks of his treatment went by smoothly, everything fine until he hit the tail end of the third, the fatigue suddenly smacking into him like an out-of-control truck.

“EZ?” A hand gently shook his shoulder, waking him with a start. Turning, he saw Bishop, casting his eyes upwards as they sat together in the clubhouse. “Go to bed, hermano. You need rest.”  

He nodded, getting up and stretching, Biship giving his arm a supportive squeeze. “We got everything handled, don’t worry.” They’d been having an informal chat about how things currently lay with their endeavours, EZ trying hard to remain awake, and failing miserably. He trudged upstairs, stripping down to his boxers and flopping onto the bed, asleep within moments. He managed three hours, until the churning in his stomach awoke him, running to the bathroom to expel the contents into the toilet bowl.  

It was like that for the rest of the night, turning him into a zombie with a raging headache by morning.  

“It isn’t like it could hit me in waves, oh, fuck no. It had to all come at once, like bam, let’s fuck him up,” he complained mildly with laughter as he sat with Nestor the next morning, just him and a few of the girls who worked the bar there, the latter taking in the alcohol delivery, while he and the former drank coffee at a table.  

Nestor raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. “I’m surprised you’re even out of bed, jeffe. I’d be burrowed in my pit if I were going through all of this.”  

He shrugged lightly, scratching his jaw. “Eh, I might go back up in a minute. I... I...” Suddenly, he felt strange, like something was slipping from him, his vision blurring, the last thing he was aware of being Nestor racing out of his seat, catching him as he toppled from his chair. Dark... strange sounds, Nestor’s voice... the taste of blood...  

“Hey, you back with me?” He attempted to focus, Nestor gently pulling his hand from beneath his head. “Seizure.”  

He’d been told he might suffer those more too, the pressure from the swelling upon his brain upping the risk, especially since he’d begun having them as a result of the tumour prior to the treatment beginning. He guessed he needed to let his doctor know, so they could up the medication he was on to prevent them. His oncologist had warned that they might need to re-examine the dosage, should the seizures begin again during the radiotherapy course.  

“Yeah, yeah I am,” he confirmed, rubbing his eyes, still feeling a little dazed, the side of his tongue sore, realising he’d bitten it in the throes of the convulsions. “Thanks for catching me.”

Nestor helped him to his feet, bracing a hand between his shoulders. “No problem.” He went back up to bed shortly after, managing to get a little more sleep, until the nausea awoke him. It was like that for another week, EZ worsening the further he went into his therapy, his anti-nausea meds only actually working if he could keep them down long enough for them to get into his system. More often than not, he couldn’t.  

Week four was agony, his headaches chronic, his mood low and irritable, being left alone for the most part, only his brother coming to regularly check on him, sleeping on the sofa some nights when he was really bad, just so he had someone there with him. Along with not being able to keep the anti-nausea drugs down, the same went for the whole other barrage of pills he had to swallow, including the drugs which assisted with controlling his seizures, Angel terrified he might collapse and hurt himself, swallow his tongue, anything.  

Eventually, he managed to map his sickness, knowing that early morning was a good time to be able to keep something in, so taking the pills he could on an empty stomach. The doses he took later in the day after food, though, when his nausea was rampant, usually didn’t last long enough to take effect. He was tired, he was sick to his stomach, his head continuously pounded in pain, he ran on little sleep, and everything was just too much.  

“Hey, oh, love. You look so poorly,” Bella cooed softly, stroking his shaven head as she sat down on his bed, EZ curled into a ball, feeling like death. Once the radiation had affected his hair, meaning it had begun to fall out in patches, he’d decided to do away with it completely, shaving his head clean, his facial hair remaining intact save for a little patch beneath his chin. “Is there anything I can do for you, anything you need?” she asked. He looked delirious with exhaustion and pain, yet the word EZ croaked as he lay there was clear as a bell.  

“Camille.”  

He managed to fall asleep with Bella lovingly stroking his head, but when he woke up, it was the hand of another who offered such affection, turning onto his back and opening his eyes to see her there, returned to his side.  

“Hey sleepy,” she whispered, EZ feeling tears pool in his eyes, tears of fatigue, of gratitude, of love, of remorse.  

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, Camille stroking his head, shushing him softly.  

“So am I.” Leaning to him, she kissed his cheek, her scent so comforting, the zesty notes of her perfume mixed with gardenia filling his nose. “I’m sorry you didn’t ask for me sooner, so I could have been here for you. At least I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He nodded weakly, turning to push himself into her arms. “Thank god.”  

There was much, much more he needed to say to her, but at that moment, all he needed, all they both needed, was the comfort of being reunited. Anything else could wait.  

[datauthorress]

the monster in her eyes [chapter 4]

pairing: alucard / original female character

summary: years after the death of integra hellsing, a young woman moves into the hellsing estate to start a new life after events happened in her home country. a new butler has been appointed to take care of the estate, which includes the monsters that have been dormant since integra’s death. but her will states that the new owner of the hellsing estate also owns everything belonging to hellsing, including the vampires that lay within.

rating: e

when shelby woke around three pm the next day, she realized she barely remembered waking up and talking to walter before her surgery. she remembered seeing him and exchanging a few words, but that was all she remembered. she was slow to wake up from the anesthesia. once she was awake, the doctor informed her that the surgery went well, but physical therapy would be mandatory since there was still damage in her bones. her wrist and hand would never be the same, but she would still be able to use them.

         the doctors wanted to keep her overnight just in case of any complications, but if there were none, she could go home the next day.

         and thank god she did, because she was sick of being in the hospital. she was discharged with strict instructions on not to use her wrist or hand for anything and to be on strict rest for a week before she could get up and walk around. she had a sling for her arm to keep her injuries in check. not only that, but she had bruised knuckles on her right hand, a bruise and black eye on her face from hitting the ground so roughly and multiple other bruises and lacerations. physically, she looked like a mess.

         seras and some members of her security personnel were there to greet shelby when she walked in through the front doors. “master!” seras exclaimed happily, approaching her. her red eyes landed on shelby’s bandaged injuries. “oh, master…”

         “i’ll be alright, seras. it’ll be a long recovery, but i’m okay,” she said with a soft smile. “where’s alucard?”

         “sleeping. he was up all day yesterday,” seras replied.

         “ah, poor thing,” shelby said. “seras, do you mind helping me wash up? i can’t necessarily do it by myself right now,”

         “of course, master!” seras said and before shelby could protest, the other woman was lifting shelby into her arms with a smile. “off we go!”

         shelby was glad that she had seras help her wash up. it wasn’t that she didn’t trust walter or alucard, but she had never been naked in front of a man before, so she was more comfortable with seras helping her.

         “you’re beautiful, master,” seras complimented with a smile.

         “you’re beautiful too, seras.” shelby smiled back, reaching up with her right hand to tenderly stroke the vampire’s cheek. seras seemed to melt into the touch, nuzzling her face into shelby’s hand.

         after the bath, shelby got dressed with seras’ help and to the bed, where she already had things on her night stand. a glass of water, her medication, tissue box. she was set for a nap.

         “do you have everything, master?” seras asked.

         “i think so, seras,” shelby nodded. “i’ll be alright. go get some sleep before night comes,”

         “rest well, master,” seras said before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

         shelby took her medication and shifted herself to lay down. she knew laying on her left side wasn’t possible, so she would have to make due with her back or right side. as she got comfortable, she felt another presence in the room and opened her eyes to see a large black shape coming up towards her side of the bed. she assumed it was alucard, given the red eyes, but instead of two, there was three and a snout.

         a dog. alucard had changed his form into that of a massive, black dog with six glowing right eyes. she patted the bed and he jumped on, coming up on her other side and laying down beside her, resting his head on her stomach. she ran her fingers through the soft fur and the six eyes blinked slowly, as if enjoying the contact.

         “good boy,” she said softly, letting her eyes close. she stroked her fingers through alucard’s fur until she dozed off for a much-needed nap.

         when she woke up around six, she wandered downstairs into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. seras was drinking a packet of blood and walter was making dinner. “have a good nap, ma’am?” walter asked.

         “i did, thank you. where’s alucard?” she asked.

         “master is patrolling the grounds,” seras answered.

         shelby took a sip of her coffee and that’s when she noticed the large bouquet of bright red roses in a beautiful vase in the middle of the table. she gulped down her coffee before speaking. “who are the roses from?” she asked.

         “oh, those? they’re from captain shawn o’riley. he stopped by while you were resting and said he wanted to drop these off and said he hoped you got better. he also left a card for you,” walter explained.

         shelby set her coffee down for a moment and opened up the card that had been between the roses and read it.

         miss shelby o’viere-hellsing

         my team and I hope you recover well from your injuries. we were impressed to see that you defended yourself well from the vampire yesterday. if you have time, i’d love to find us a nice restaurant to go to and talk. my number is below.

         sincerely, shawn o’riley.

         shelby noticed the number at the bottom of the get-well card and she arched an eyebrow at it. “looks like he’s asking me for a date,”

         “a date? how interesting!” walter grinned. “mr. o’riley did seem interested in you, ma’am.”

         “yeah, he seems nice, but i’m not really interested in him,” shelby said, putting the card down. “but, see that these roses get special treatment.”

         “of course, ma’am.” walter nodded.

         “the human is too old for you,” alucard said in a matter-of-factly tone as he phased through the wall and into the kitchen. “he’s getting his hopes up. i would love to be the one to tell him he has no chance,”

         “leave him be, alucard.” shelby said firmly. “i’ll tell him soon, anyway-,”

         before she could finish speaking, her phone began ringing the fight theme song from final fantasy vii and she answered it, noticing it was her brother. “hey shepherd, what’s up? it’s a little late for you to be calling.”

         “i know, but i needed to tell you this before you found out for yourself,” shepherd said with an exasperated sigh. “mom found out where you live,”

         shelby felt her blood run cold. “how? how did she find out?”

         “the only thing i can think of is that our sister looked through my phone when i was at the house the other day and was able to get your location there. as far as I know, they’ll be arriving monday and staying for a week at one of the hotels in town.”

         “is she coming along with them?” shelby asked, tightening her grip on her phone.

         “yes,”

         “doesn’t mom understand that i have a restraining order against our sister for a reason?!”

         “she does, but she feels it would be unfair for mary-anne to stay behind while we go to london.”

         shelby released a heavy sigh, feeling tears burning the corners of her eyes. this was the stress that she had moved away from. “alright, alright….just get the hotel you guys are staying at and what time you’ll be arriving. seth will help you guys get around since he’s been to london before. let me know what time you guys are planning to come to the manor and i’ll send a car for you,”

         “will do, sis. and….i’m sorry. had i known mary-anne would pull such an act, i wouldn’t have left my phone out,”

         “it’s not your fault, shep. i’ll deal with it when the time comes.”

         “alright. love you, sis.”

         “love you, too. bye.” she said and hung up, before slumping down in her chair, her hand over her eyes.

         “is that the sister that crippled you?” alucard questioned.

         “yes, it is,” shelby replied, wiping at her eyes with her thumb. “she is part of the reason why i moved to london in the first place. and now she’s disobeying court orders to spite me.”

         “shall i dispatch them?”

         “no!” she snapped, before taking a deep breath. “i’m sorry, i don’t mean to snap. i just….when i think i might actually try and live my life, something has to come in and try to ruin it,”

         “y’know, we could have the queen arrest your sister upon arriving at the hospital,” walter suggested.

         “no, she’s got a record on her already for stalking and harassment,” shelby sighed. “i still love her, it’s just…what happened with the accident. i can’t forgive her for it,”

         “so what will you do sir?” walter asked.

         “i’m going to allow her in this house for the time being, but if she does anything i don’t like, then she needs to leave,” shelby said.

         “oh, i’ll make sure of it, master.” alucard promised.

         after dinner, she contacted her bosses and let them know that she was out of commission for six to eight weeks because she broke her hand and wrist. she also wrote a loving apologetic post to her fans and said she would work hard in therapy to get back to writing. once she was done making her posts, she went upstairs to start looking through her closet. upon looking at her closet, she realized she didn’t have many button up shirts for a more professional appearance. she wasn’t a huge fan of ties due to not liking things wrapped around her neck. she laid out the jeans she had on one of the chairs in her room and then laid out the nice shirts she had. she wanted to make herself look more professional, especially if she was going to be meeting the queen or with iscariot. she needed to go to the shooting range as well and invest in some more guns. she just had the one.

         “you should be resting, master.” alucard droned as he phased into the room.

         “i need to go shopping for new clothes,” shelby said, putting her hand to her chin and scratching slightly. “i’d like to start dressing more professional,”

         “do you care what other people think of you?” he asked.

         “no, not really. but being that i’m now in charge of the hellsing organization, it would be wise of me to dress more appropriately,” she answered. “to show that i’m not a little girl that someone can bully around,”

         “were you bullied?” he asked, curiosity in his voice.

         “i was,” she nodded. “but i grew up into the young woman i am today. i’ve made a name for myself,”

         “fascinating,” he whispered. “however, walter will have your head if he finds out you’re up,”

         “pfft, yeah right. wait, what are you- alucard!”

         shelby yelped in surprise as the tall vampire swiftly picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, where he plopped her onto it. “i wasn’t done!” she protested.

         “you can finish tomorrow, master.” alucard spoke, lifting a knee onto the bed before throwing it onto the other side of her and lifting himself to rest his knees on either side of her body, causing shelby to pause at the position. she sat up more, a soft tinge of pink on her features. “your cheeks are coloring, master.” he crooned.

         “your boots are on my bed,” shelby gritted out. “take them off,”

         he grinned softly and kicked the heavy boots off of his long legs, despite them being part of him.

         “you can sit beside me, but not over me,” she said.

         “does it make you uncomfortable?” he pressed, although followed her command instead sat to the side of her on the bed.

         “it’s not every day i have a man kneeling over me,” shelby replied. “or kneeling to me,”

         “you’re a virgin, master.”

         “yes, we both know that. virginity is a social construct to control women,” she said. “although who knows if i’ll ever lose it. i had my first kiss a long time ago, but it sucked. more or less, the guy shoved his tongue down my throat.”

         “how pathetic,” alucard scoffed.

         “yeah, it sucked,” she shrugged. “oh well,”

         “i could show you just what a kiss is supposed to be like,”

         shelby felt her cheeks grow warm and she turned her head to him quickly, seeing the smirk on his features. “wha-? when’s the last time you kissed someone?!”

         “long, long time ago,” he chuckled.

         shelby stiffened when a gloved hand reached up for her face and she instinctively went to pull away, but upon feeling the touch of a gloved hand on her cheek. it was softer than she expected and as she shifted her gaze back to alucard, she could see his eyes lower slightly it what looked like fondness.

         “why do you flinch, master?” he asked. “do you fear me?”

         “no,” she replied, shaking her head. “i’m unused to the touch of another. i haven’t had physical affection in a very, very long time. i think the last time i felt it was from my mother as a child, or a teenager.”

         shelby knew she was touch-starved and she knew alucard was too. how did it come to this, that her affection would be for a vampire? it wasn’t like she loved him, she liked him for certain, and it was an odd feeling because she had only known him almost a week now. and despite that, he treated her as though she had been his master for a long time. she still didn’t think of him as a pet, or a servant.

         her thoughts were paused as she felt a thumb stroke her cheek and she couldn’t help but tilt her face into the palm, eyelids lowered. her right hand reached up, placing it flat against his broad chest, feeling no heartbeat underneath, the coldness of his body. but instead of flinching away from it, she welcomed the temperature change. she could feel a rumble reverberate from within his chest, as if pleased with the contact. her hand shook slightly as it slid upwards, her hand making its way to the side of his neck, where her warm fingers touched the cold flesh. his skin twitched and she could almost hear what sounded like a shudder from him.

         “you’re warm, master,” he murmured, red eyes glowing brightly as he neared closer to her face.

         shelby noticed that his eyes seemed to convey his emotions. when they glowed brightly like this, his emotions seemed very strong. alucard wasn’t the heartless monster that everyone thought he was, what she thought at first, but she noticed that he only displayed those emotions towards her. she didn’t want him to feel like he had to be affectionate towards her.

         “you know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, alucard.” she said softly.

         “i grant your every wish, your every command, every desire,” his voice lowered.

         “don’t do it based on what i want. you’re your own person and you’re not a slave,” she whispered.

         “i live for you, master.”

         her thoughts became scattered and unclear as she felt his lips press against the corner of her mouth, cold yet softer than any lips she had ever felt. her breath hitched slightly at the touch so tender from a dangerous creature, a vampire, yet she found herself closing her eyes and moving her head ever so slightly so she could mold their lips together in a proper kiss. a pleased rumble echoed from within alucard’s chest and she just barely felt his other hand rest on her thigh, fingers almost able to wrap around her entire thigh.

         it was hard to describe how it felt. her first kiss had been nothing but tongue fucking, but it felt like she was having her first kiss all over again. in any other situation, shelby didn’t feel confident enough to kiss someone unless they initiated it first. she was guarded about her affection, but now, she felt at her most vulnerable, opening up her soul to the vampire before her. one who deemed her worthy of his respect, of being his master even though she wasn’t a biological hellsing.

         she felt as though she could trust him with anything, her life included.

         shelby pulled away slightly to take a few breaths, before she was going in for another kiss, just as soft but a bit deeper this time. she wasn’t experienced in kissing, though she knew alucard would be the one to guide her through it.

         “master,” he rumbled.

         “say my name,” shelby whispered, wanting to hear it from his lips. “i want to hear you say my name, please.”

         he grinned softly against her lips. “shelby, my master,”

         he pressed a bit more against her, parting his lips into the kiss and allowing his tongue to lick across her bottom lip. she felt her cheeks redden sightly at the sensation of his tongue, but she parted her lips and allowed him in. it was a brief moment of his tongue stroking over hers before he pulled off and moved his mouth down along her neck, lips pressing to the soft skin before he inhaled sharply and shuddered.

         “you smell wonderful, master.” he hummed.

         “no biting,” she said, but didn’t stop the smile from crossing her features.

         alucard pressed his mouth just above her jugular, his tongue tracing the length of her neck and right along her pulse line. shelby tightened her grip on his neck, before she lost her sense of balance and yelped as she fell back, taking alucard with her. her head landed on the pillow, and she laughed softly, to which he returned it with a low chuckle.

         alucard rested his head in the crook of her neck, being cautious not to press his weight on her arm. she stroked his hair, to which he purred deeply against her. “will you stay with me? just until i fall asleep?” she asked, turning her head so she could rest her cheek on the top of his head.

         “of course, my master,” he cooed.

         shelby allowed her eyes to close and she got comfortable. alucard’s presence calmed her and it was proven when she quickly got drowsy and fell asleep soon after, her hand still resting in his silky hair.

[knights-of-the-glittery-table]

I wrote a very long email to an organisation that is there to help fight on behalf of people who want to complain about their medical treatment both physical and mental heath wise.

I was given the website in Jan by someone from a charity who used to be helping me out but I've only just decided to write to them as I'm so tired emotionally.

Hello,

My name is Jenny and I live in -. I'm - with severe depression, anxiety and agoraphobia. I was given the name of your organisation in Jan by someone at - but found it tough to be able to put into words how neglected and failed I was feeling. Unfortunately I ended up having a year just as rough as all proceeding it and I'm at the point where I feel so abandoned and without support I think I can talk about it.

I lost my dad at 16 and then mum at 20, I was severely mentally ill and unmedicated at the time (failed by my family GP the entire time who diagnosed me at 14 with depression but never prescribed any medications or counselling/therapy) and it was only around 24 years old I started to be medicated. 

The last 13 years have been absolute hell and I've been let down by not only the small amount of family I have (brothers of my mum who all live far away/out of country) but so very much by the medical field as well as organisations I've reached out to.

I've reached the point where all the fight is gone out of me and I just don't have any trust or hope left. I'm so desperate to feel supported and cared about but as I said tearfully to my friend not long ago, I feel that all these places supposed to help actually have made my quality of life worse and eroded my will to live.

I have 13 years of pain and hurt with an endless amount of it put at the feet of not being given the support and treatment a person deserves. The stress and effect on my mental health as well as physical health over time has genuinely put me into such a place of not being able to trust or hope when all I want it to be able to do both of those things.

To give just very brief idea of things, here are a few things off the top of my head from the last month or so:

Being in severe mental health crisis and told to call my GP surgery back if I felt worse. I rang back two days later only to be told it was a half day so the doctor had left but would receive a call the next day. Five minutes after the call ended I receive a text message to tell me I'd receive a call 5 days from then as already prearranged. Five days is a terribly long time when you are in crisis. The phonecall I then received was very brief and told me we'd go from the appointment set in place for the next week with a nurse.

This appointment that the doctor prearranged was to speak to a nurse who is the 'go between' between the GP and psychiatric and  it ended up being cancelled three times. By the third time the text no longer told me to get in touch to rearrange so I gave up. The days leading up to each appointment before they were cancelled (the last time it was actually cancelled an hour before I was due to go, by text) were filled with awful anxiety because my previous experiences with 'mental health 'liaisons/connectors'  were truly awful. The first one made me cry and when I tried to explain that to her she got aggressive and lacked any sort of empathy for mental illness, bringing her religion into it. I asked the GP to please never put me in contact with that person again. The other time I was sat in a room with a young woman who genuinely sat in silence and just stared at me. I felt rather baffled by the silence and so just kept talking about how I was feeling and finally after near 10 minutes she spoke up only to ask me what my caffeine intake was like and had I tried screaming into a pillow and playing loud music. I left pretty soon after. These two incidents were only this year, not even that long ago.

I tried to get in touch with my surgery late last month about arranging some support by having monthly mental health wellbeing calls the same way I arranged before the surgery changed hands this time last year. I've not heard back and I don't have the fight in me anymore to try and enforce it.

After being on the waiting list for 8 months or so with Talking Together Wirral they wanted to start some counselling the same time a brief 6 sessions with Cruise bereavement started. I spoke to them and they said they'd sort it out and get back to me. Instead on the first session with this new counsellor I was informed it wasn't possible to do both at once and that it'd have to be pushed back.(They were supposed to be in touch again by mid November, never were.) I was then deeply upset by this counsellor who informed me that depression and anxiety were manageable by counselling and meds and I didn't need a higher level of care. I spent all of this year being encouraged by the GP and the nurses I was speaking to from the mental health crisis line that I was doing the right thing trying to push for a higher level of medical psychiatric care so it just confused and upset me greatly.

I apologise for the length of the email but there has been so much, I mean the whole reason I was given your name in the first place is because the lady who gave it to me was deeply unhappy with the way I was being treated and the last 11 months have only added more to that list of ways I've been failed and deeply upset. (This connector I mention I haven't spoke to since Jan as in her words I was too poorly for what third sector can offer. I tried getting in touch during a mental crisis beginning of October to ask if the next time the dwp send me spiralling into a mental heath crisis I could ask for their help but she never replied. That had an effect on me too as you can imagine.)

There's a lot I could make complaints about, just the absolute lack of care from everywhere from the GP to the access team to the times I was an outpatient with dermatology and a hundred other places and people. I've been failed on every front, for 13 years and I can't do it anymore.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.