#some of these are older some are from Today

[tapestryundone]

uhhh and here are some Variety Goods that i probably wont polish so just have them as they are :)

[ladysarai]

Fun, true story. Growing up, all I ever wanted to be was a teacher. And I knew that teachers could not have "fun" hair colors. So I never, ever did anything more than the "normal" blonde highlights in my brown hair. Then even when I wasn't able to get a teaching job and had to switch careers (it was the 2008 recession and aftermath, no one was hiring new teachers), I went to work in healthcare--and there were Rules about hair colors, so I still did not do anything fun.

Fast forward to 2021. I got a promotion and started being able to work from home. In 2022, I thought.... Well, we're not going back to the office any time soon. I'm almost 40. I can do What I Want, FINALLY?? SO I DID. And I have kept up what I call my Unicorn Rainbow hair Ever Since.

And you know what? I have never, in my entire time on this planet, EVER received as many compliments on anything as I do on my hair. Even when I go out and it's a Bad Hair Day, or it needs a wash and is a little greasy--someone will still stop and compliment me.

The best thing? 9/10 times, the compliments I get are from Older Women. I'm talking your Little Old Ladies and Conservative-Looking Grannies. I met a woman yesterday going to meet her two great grandchildren and she went on and on about my hair and asking questions about it.

I never thought of myself as someone who would have Fun Hair someday, but you know what? I have had this for two years and I have zero intention of stopping any time soon. It makes ME happy, and APPARENTLY it also makes other people happy. So do what makes you happy, and see how the world reacts.

^Literally me, today. (Meeting my BRAND NEW NEPHEW, born this morning!) My hair is messy and dirty because I slept in an airport overnight and it needs a trim but y'know what? I still got compliments tonight from some nurses and a woman at a grocery store.)

It’s crazy and fucked up that being yourself is actually the solution.

[loveesiren]

Baby Daddy (Pt. 1)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

A/n: Wrote this a while back and got a lot of requests for a part 2 so I will post it as well! Along with a blurb I've written. Never really planned to make this a series but if you guys want more just let me know! :)

Warnings: Light smut, language, cocaine, angst, pregnancy, mention of abortion, fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rafe thrusted into you one final time before finishing. Cumming deep inside of you for the fourth time tonight. "Fuckkkkk," He moaned before pulling out of you and laying on his back. "You're so fucking tight."

"Yep," You said dryly as you pulled your panties and shorts back on.

"Where are you going?" Rafe asked as he turned to look at you.

"Uhhh, home?" You tell him. "Why would I stay?"

"Whatever," Rafe said before rolling over and pouring a line of coke out on his night stand.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your bag before leaving his room and storming through the house out the front door.

The walk home was boring. You put your headphones in and slowly danced your way back to the Chateau. As you did every fucking night.

After your mom split and John B's dad went missing you were John B's legal guardian. You were step siblings but his dad raised you when your mom left and for that you were forever grateful. Even though you were a little older, you were really close with John B and his friends. You guys did everything together. Told eachother everything. Except for this.

You'd been sleeping with Rafe for 6 months now. It all started after a Christmas party last December. You were working your shift at the club, way more tipsy than you should have been for being on the clock. A drunk Rafe Cameron started talking you up and you flirted back. The boy was handsome enough. Granted, he was a fucking dick. But you just wanted to get off.

He took you into the bathroom on your break and absolutely rocked your world. No one had ever made you cum like he did. The way you could feel yourself release around his cock made you both fucking dissolve into the earth.

From that day forward, you guys fucked constantly. But you never told a soul and neither did he. Kooks and Pogues don't hook up.

______________

Your eyes flickered open. "Ugh," You groaned as you tried to sit up. You were in your room, Kiara asleep next to you. She slept with you every night since her parents kicked her out. She was your closest girlfriend.

A wave of nausea washed over you and you hopped out of bed and booked it to the bathroom. You expelled the contents of your stomach into the toilet. Gasping for air in between heaves.

"Are you okay?" Kiara was at the door now, crouching beside you to hold your hair back.

"Must be the flu," You said before vomiting again. "I didn't even drink last night."

"Alright let me get you some water and a pillow. You're probably gonna stay in here today."

You rested by the toilet and drank your water but by 11am you were feeling 100%.

You walked out into the kitchen and greeted everyone.

"Don't get us sick," John B said, stepping back from you.

"I feel fine now," You said. "I'm actually hungry!"

Sarah and Kiara eyed you for a moment. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You said as you popped some waffles in the toaster.

"Are you pregnant?" Kie asked.

You paused for a moment. You and Rafe never used condoms. And had you been taking your birth control lately? You were always bad at taking meds.

"Aha, no. No way." You responded.

John B, JJ, and Pope sat awkwardly.

You looked to the floor as you pressed your hand to your stomach. Thoughts racing through your head as you tried to remember the last time you had your period. "Fuck."

"Do you have a secret lover?" Sarah teased.

"John B, give me the keys to the Twinkie." You demanded.

John B fished them out of his pocket and handed them to you and you rushed out the door.

"Y/N, where are you going?!" Kiara called after you but you ignored her.

You hopped into the van and drove off quickly. When you pulled up to the drug store you ran inside and and bought five pregnancy tests and a gallon of water.

You leaned back in your seat and sighed after chugging as much water as you could.

You considered texting Rafe but you voted against it. You needed to be sure.

You drove back to the Chateau, grocery bag in hand as you locked yourself in the bathroom.

Two hours later you were standing over the counter, staring at the five plus signs set before you.

You couldn't help but cry. "Fuck..."

"Y/N?" You heard Sarah and Kie outside your door. You leaned back and swallowed. You had no idea what to do but telling a friend might be a good start.

You open the door and yank them into the bathroom. "Y/N! What's going on?" Sarah asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh before nodding your head towards the bathroom counter.

Sarah and Kie look at eachother before slowly walking towards where the five pregnancy tests sat. Five. And they were all positive.

"Oh shit, Y/N..." Sarah said.

Kiara swallowed. "Uhm...is this like a congratulations or a 'we need to go to the clinic right now' situation?"

"I don't know," You said, joining them by the sink. "I should probably talk to...to..him." Your eyes fell to your feet.

"Who, Y/N?" Kiara asked. "We can take you there, we're here for you."

You laugh and throw your head back.

"Y/N...Who is he?" Sarah asks.

You bite your lip as you look down to meet her eyes.

She was confused and concerned. She wanted to help but her and Kie were both nervous about what was going on.

"Rafe," You said softly, barely a whisper.

Kiara and Sarah looked at you with wide eyes. "Wait..Rafe? My brother?? Rafe's the dad?!" Sarah was practically screaming now.

"Shhhh!" You said as you ran and covered her mouth. "Yes, it's Rafe's okay! Can we please not scream it to the whole world?!"

Sarah was silent as you backed away from her.

"Since when have you been fucking Rafe Cameron?!" Kiara asks.

"Y/N, he's a piece of shit!" Sarah added.

"Okay, listen! We've been hooking up since Christmas and...I don't know. I thought it was a one time thing but it just kept happening."

"Is that where you go every night?!" Sarah asked.

You sigh and press your tongue to your inner cheek. "Yeah."

"So you're fucking my brother," Sarah scoffs.

"You're fucking mine!" You hiss back.

Sarah rolls her eyes and shrugs. "Touche. But Rafe's a fucking dick!"

"Yeah, I'm aware." You sigh as you lean back and sink to the floor. "Should I even tell him?"

"He'd wanna know," Sarah said softly. "As much as I hate him, he loves hard."

You feel your phone buzz and pull it from your pocket. "Fuck, it's Rafe."

You coming over tonight?

"I can't do this." You begin to cry, placing your head on your knees. "Rafe doesn't even care about me. I'm just pussy to him."

"I don't know, Y/N...He's always sucked at showing his true feelings."

You shake your head before Sarah can say anything else. You grab your phone and respond.

No. We shouldn't see each other anymore.

You hesitate but press send. It breaks your heart but you know this is the right thing.

Your phone buzzes again but you ignore it.

"I'm gonna call the clinic," You say as you excuse yourself from the bathroom and go sit on the porch, lighting up a cigarette.

Your fingers hover over the screen of your phone, not being able to bring yourself to do it.

"Fuck this!" You yell as you toss your phone across the patio.

"Y/N-"

"What John B?!"

"Are you okay?"

You were pacing now, taking drags off your cigarette as you tried to catch your breath.

"You shouldn't be smoking." John B says.

You turn to look at him. "Doesn't matter," You mutter.

"You're pregnant." John B states. You turn to look at him again. Annoyed the Kie and Sarah said anything. "And no, Kie and Sarah didn't tell me. I'm just not stupid."

You sit down and sigh, dragging your cigarette again.

Your phone continues to buzz from the other side of the porch. John B goes to pick it up. When you notice him staring at it you quickly snatch it from his hands.

"Rafe?" His voice is almost a whisper.

You sigh as you take your bottom lip between your teeth. "Yeah." You respond.

You look down at your phone to see the five messages Rafe had sent you.

What? What do you mean? Why?

Y/N, I'm sorry I was a dick last night.

Please talk to me.

I'm sorry...

I need to talk to you. Please.

"Are you gonna tell him?" John B asks.

You put your head in your hands as you try to choke back tears. You had not intended to find out you were pregnant today. Nor were you prepared for your brother and all your friends to find out you'd been fucking Rafe Cameron. It was all too overwhelming.

"I don't know," You respond honestly.

John B sighs. "Look, never been a fan of Rafe. I had no clue you two were.....close." He says, motioning towards your stomach. "But I think you should think about it a little more and talk to him before you make a final decision."

You chewed on his words for a moment before nodding in agreement.

_________

You locked yourself in your room for the rest of the night. Curled up under the covers as your phone continued to vibrate.

Nonstop calls and texts from Rafe. Since when has he cared so much? He was probably just coked out and horny.

You decided to shut your phone off. He'd have to find another girl to get his dick wet. Sex was the last thing you wanted right now.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, completely unsure of what to do.

The next three days were awful. Throwing up all morning, crying all afternoon. Your friends tried to be there for you but you continued to barricade yourself in your room. You'd come out once in a while to grab some food and water and instantly go back to your bed, binge watching Jersey Shore on your lap top under the covers.

You'd kept your phone off. You really just couldn't bring yourself to talk to anyone right now. And the people you would need to talk to were right outside the door.

_______

"Oh shit," Sarah said as she stood up from her spot on the porch, getting a better view of Rafe's truck pulling up to the Chateau.

The rest of the Pogues stood up too, not fully prepared to handle this situation.

"John B!" Rafe said as he hopped out of his truck. "John B, look man, I don't have any beef with you, alright? I just really need to see Y/N."

"She's not feeling great right now, man." John B responded.

Kiara slipped away and rushed to your bedroom.

You heard knocking on your door and you groaned. "What?"

"Y/N, uhm..." Kiara begins.

"What is it, Kie? I'm sleeping."

"Rafe's here."

Your chest tightens at her words.

"I don't-I don't think he's going to leave without seeing you, Y/N."

"Fuck me!" You whisper as you pinch the bridge of your nose. "I'll be out in a second!"

Kiara goes back to where Rafe and John B are arguing on the porch. "She'll be right out."

The boys shut up and look at her.

"Thank you." Rafe said.

You hop out of bed and open your door. The light of day almost blinding as your eyes adjusted. You instantly missed the dark warmth of your bed.

You slowly make your way to the porch. Your plaid pajama shorts clung loosely to your hips while your tank top hugged you tightly. Your hair was a wavy mess. You hadn't done anything to it in days. But you really couldn't care less at this point.

You shyly step outside. Rafe's eyes flicker to you, a small smile on his lips before taking in your appearance. Concern instantly washing over his face. "Y/N, are you okay?" He asked, taking a step closer to you and reaching for your hands.

You quickly pull away from him and he frowns. "Uhm, could you guys give us a minute?" You ask the group. They all nod hesitantly and head inside.

"Why are you here, Rafe?" You ask once the two of you are alone.

"I haven't heard from you in days. I-I got worried."

You sighed and looked down to your feet.

"Look, Y/N, I'm really sorry I've been such a dick. I'm trying to quit the blow it's just so hard, ya know?"

"It's fine, Rafe. I knew what this was from the beginning." You shrug.

"I like you." He admits. You look up at him. "I like you a lot. I suck at showing it and I get why you're probably sick of me. But I need you to know you're more than just sex to me."

"W-what do you mean?" You ask confused.

Rafe lets out a slow, shaky breathe and scratches the back of his head. "I'm not good at...at showing emotions," He begins. "I don't like being vulnerable. That's why I do coke, I guess. I've just-I've never been good at the whole feelings thing and I just really didn't know how to tell you how I really felt. But when you said you didn't want to see me anymore...." He trails off, looking down to meet your gaze. "I-it hurt me..."

Your expression softens and you give him a sympathetic smile.

"And if you don't want to see me anymore, I get it. I just wanted to tell you-"

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head into his chest. He was stunned for a moment but moved to wrap his arms around you tightly, nuzzling his face into your messy hair.

"I like you too, Rafe." You admit. "And I don't want to stop seeing you. I was just scared. There is something we need to talk about..."

"Anything, sweetheart," He says as he runs his fingers up and down your spine.

You swallow and squeeze your eyes shut. "Rafe, I'm pregnant." The words leave your lips without warning and you brace yourself for whatever is coming next.

Rafe stops moving. Your body tenses as you still cling to him. After a moment, he places his hands on your shoulders and pulls you back to look at him. "What did you say?"

"I-I'm pregnant. I was going to call the clinic but I thought I should talk to you about it first and I'm sorry I ignored you the last few days I just-"

Rafe starts shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, no, baby, shhhh." He says. "I just uhm...do you want to keep it?" He asks nervously.

"I-I mean...I've just never really thought about being a mom before."

"We can move you to Tannyhill," Rafe starts. "And I'll tell my dad I need more work and we'll save up and Wheezie can babysit and-"

"Rafe!" You stop him. You can't help but laugh. "Are you saying you want to keep it? I was only going to call the clinic because I thought you wouldn't want to..."

"Yes, yes!" He says, picking you up and twirling you around. When he sets you back down he takes your face between his hands and kisses you deeply. The kiss was passionate, filled with love, unlike the hungry make out sessions that usually stole your nights.

"I'm gonna be a dad!" Rafe yelled as he jumped off the porch, full of energy.

You laughed, tears of joy filling your eyes as you heard the Pogues come back out on the porch. This went way better than you had expected.

"I take it that went well?" John B asks as he watches Rafe run around in excitement.

"I don't think I've ever seen Rafe so happy before," Sarah chuckles beside you.

"Whoo! Okay!" Rafe says as he comes back over to you, practically out of breath. He gets on his knees and places kisses along your stomach. "I'm taking you to lunch. What do you want to eat? You can have whatever you want, baby, on me."

"Rafe," You laugh, running your fingers through his hair as he keeps his lips pressed to your belly. "Can I at least shower first?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course baby. You wanna shower here? Or we could go to my house,"

"Oh God, please go to Tannyhill." Sarah says, the rest of the group agreeing with her. "This here is a shared shower."

You laugh. "Let me just grab some things and we can go,"

"Okay," Rafe agrees, smiling as he watches you disappear into the Chateau.

"You gonna take care of her? And that baby?" John B asks as he stands next to Rafe.

"Definitely," Rafe responds. "She has no idea how happy she makes me. But I'm gonna show her."

John B nods and offers a small smile.

"Ready!" You say as you come back out, duffle bag over your shoulder.

Rafe takes it from you immediately and goes to put it in his truck.

"Congratulations," John B says, pulling you into a hug.

"Thanks, JB," You smile. "I'll call you later, okay? Stay out of trouble!" You command as you walk towards the truck.

"Aye-aye," He says, saluting you.

You smile as Rafe helps you into the passenger seat. "You ready to go, Mama?" He asks, brushing his hand over your still flat stomach.

You smirk at the gesture. "Definitely."

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

[covenofagatha]

Could you write Agatha/reader where the reader discovers they have a nursing kink 🫠 The ending of chp2 of sugar&spice was so so comforting

I don't know if this is exactly what you had in mind for this request, but hopefully you still like it! Thank you to everyone who voted for this, here you go!!

Nurtured Desires

When your mom's best friend who just had a baby gets caught without a pump, you take matters into your own hands to help her out.

Word count: 1900+

Warnings: nursing kink, lactation, fingering

You’ve always found your mom’s best friend, Agatha Harkness, incredibly attractive. 

But ever since she gave birth three months ago, there’s been something even hotter about her. 

Maybe it’s the way she’s always exhausted but still finds time to smile at you when she sees you. 

Maybe it’s her nurturing side on display that’s tapping into some unresolved mommy issues you have. 

Or maybe it’s the way her breasts are huge and full and she makes no effort to hide her cleavage. 

You feel like a gross guy every time you find your eyes drifting down, but who can blame you? 

You’re pretty sure Agatha has seen you staring a few times, too. But every time, she just gives you a smirk with an imperceptible shake of her head, like she’s scolding you because she knows that she should, not that she wants to.

Her kid, Nicholas, is cute enough. You don’t really know enough about babies to have an opinion, but he gurgles and giggles when he sees you sometimes. When you hold out your finger to him, he’ll grab it with his entire fist and it makes you smile. 

Your mom had been named Nicky’s godmother and you had tagged along with her to the baptism. You can still remember how it felt when Agatha had hugged you, pressing her breasts against your chest. You had been able to think of very little else during the ceremony. 

Agatha had the two of you over to her house a lot after her son was born. Your mom was all too happy to help out, as Nicky’s father was barely ever home and Agatha was exhausted. You kept the older woman company while doing homework for your college classes in the kitchen while she prepared a light snack or in the living room while she caught up on the newest episode of the show she was watching. 

But it was inevitable that Nicky would start crying and Agatha would have to take him into her bedroom to feed him. 

Is it weird that you wanted to know what it was like?

Never before had you been so transfixed by the thought of that, and you had been around several of your mom’s and older sister’s friends who had given birth. 

But everytime, when Agatha could come back out of the room, holding Nicky with her shirt unbuttoned more than it had been, you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. 

There is something especially different about today. 

It’s Thanksgiving, and every year Agatha has a lunch where she invites people from the neighborhood over. Her husband has taken Nicky to his parents’ house to give her a break and it seems like she is back to her normal self.

But Agatha has decided to wear a short, tight, navy dress with a very low cut, reminding you that something was still not normal. 

You’re practically drooling over her. There are several times that someone says something to you that you don’t even hear because you’re too busy staring. 

Is she wearing a push-up bra? How are they that perky? You’ve never wanted to suck on something more. 

You physically shake your head to get rid of those thoughts. 

She is your best friend’s mom. She just had a baby. She is married. 

You repeat those sentences like a mantra as you finish helping cook the food. You’ve been tasked with making mashed potatoes, which is a pretty easy job. 

Finally the meal is ready, and while you’re setting the table with your mom and another friend of hers, you notice that Agatha is nowhere to be found. You frown and check back in the kitchen. She’s not there. 

“Mom, did Agatha go to the bathroom?” You ask, hoping she doesn't ask why you care so much. Your mom shrugs absentmindedly, too focused on balancing the plate of cranberry sauce with the bowl of casserole so she doesn’t drop either. 

You glance at the hall bathroom to find the door open. Spurred on by something, you head up the stairs, just to make sure Agatha’s alright. It’s not like her to just disappear. 

“Agatha?” You call out and you hear a muffled sound coming from her bedroom. You can hear the front door open downstairs and you assume more guests are arriving. You tentatively walk into her room, the floor creaking. 

And that’s where you find her sitting on the bed, her back to you. 

“You okay?” You ask, not really sure what’s going on or how to explain what you’re doing. 

She sniffs and turns around and your jaw falls open. 

There’s two damp spots on her chest, visible on the navy material. 

“Uh–” You have no idea what to say. 

“I’m such an idiot, I had all the nursing stuff in Nicky’s bag and it’s with my husband, and I thought I would be okay,” she mutters angrily and you walk over to where she’s sitting, as if in a trance. You think you can smell it. 

“Is there anything I can do?” You ask breathily, falling to your knees in front of her. It sounds like you’re on something and she looks at you with surprise and maybe a little of something else. 

“You want to help me?” Her eyebrow raises like she’s daring you, but you don’t back down. You nod and her lips part. You think her pupils are dilating. “I see you staring, you know. You’re not subtle.” 

You shrug shamelessly, hands coming up to rest on her bare thighs. She gasps as the touch. You think she must be so sensitive. “Let me help, please,” you beg, staring up at her. 

She holds your gaze for a second and then obliges, reaching behind her to drag the dress zipper down. Your heart stutters in your chest when the front of the dress loosens and more and more of her pale skin is revealed. She’s wearing what looks like a special kind of bra and you move to touch without even realizing. 

You cup her swollen breast and run your thumb over her nipple through the fabric. Agatha’s breath hitches and she bites her lip, eyes watching you through hooded lashes. 

“Baby,” Agatha says, silently communicating what she needs, and you pull her right breast out over the bra, sit up on your knees, and take her leaking nipple into your mouth. 

Her head falls back and you moan at the taste. It’s so warm and rich and you start suckling, just wanting to bring her some relief. 

“Fuck,” she says sharply and you feel a spark of heat grow inside you. You keep drawing out the milk and her hand comes down to grab your left one and bring it to her other breast. You scrabble with her bra and she eventually gets fed up and reaches behind her to take it off. You have to take your mouth off of her for a second and she whines at the loss of the stimulation, but you quickly make up for it by sucking her other nipple into your mouth. 

The spark has become an ache, but you’re too caught up in the taste of the older woman to care. 

You use your teeth and tug and her fingers bury into your hair, holding you close. You can hear her making small noises and you switch your mindless lapping to a slow, steady rhythm of deep sucks. She brushes your hair out of your face so she can see you better and is perfectly content to watch you like that. 

You move back to the right nipple, but play with the left with your free fingers. She whimpers when you’re particularly rough with a suck and her hips jerk. 

You freeze around her breast and meet her eyes, which are completely glazed over with lust and desire. 

“Please touch me,” she whispers, hands moving down to hike up her dress. “I need it so bad.” 

Who are you to say no? You reach up under her skirt and feel her underwear and you gasp, her nipple dropping out of your mouth. 

She is soaked. Her underwear is dripping. You wouldn’t be surprised if there was a puddle on the bed under her. You almost cum on the spot. 

You slide them to the side and push two fingers in easily, eyes widening at the feeling of her warm and wet walls clenching around you. Agatha inhales above you and drags your mouth back to her nipple. You latch on, resuming your sucking, and you start moving your fingers. You curl with every thrust, teething harder on her nipples and drinking her milk, and she bucks her hips up every time. You rub her clit with your thumb and her moans are getting louder with all the stimulation. 

“Fuck, baby, so good, so close,” she pants. You can feel her getting tighter around you and you increase the pace of your fingers, sucking rougher. 

She cums and it’s explosive. There’s a gush of milk into your mouth and the hand on her other nipple gets drenched. You fuck her through her orgasm, still sucking the remaining milk out of her, until it gets too much and she pushes you off. 

You’re both breathing hard. You can feel how sticky and wet you’ve become between your legs, but you know better than to ask Agatha for help with that now. You're not sure what this even was.

“Feel better?” You joke and she chuckles, ruffling her hair. 

“Yes, thank you, dear. You seemed like you enjoyed that.” 

Now it’s your turn to laugh. “Yeah, I didn’t really know I was into that. Anytime Nicky isn’t around, just call me up.” It’s meant to be a jestful quip, but her eyes darken. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She muses and the blush on your face gives you away. “Okay, go back downstairs now and rejoin the party. We’ve both been gone long enough. I need to change clothes.” You start to move but she stops you. “Oh–and sweetheart?” 

You pause and look back at her. Agatha swipes her thumb across your chin and holds it up, milk droplets coating it. Before thinking, you take it into your mouth and suck, much like you had just been doing to her nipples. Her low groan excites you, but she’s right. At the very least, your mom is wondering where you were. 

“Thank you,” she says with genuine gratitude in her voice and you smile. “Now, go.” She playfully swats your shoulder to shoo you away and you bite back the urge to ask if it’ll happen again. 

You glance back when you get to the door just in time to catch a hint of her naked body and you have to force yourself out of the room so you don’t accidentally go back in for more. 

When you go downstairs, your mom immediately finds you. 

“Where have you been?” She asks. “The food is all ready, we’ve already started eating.” 

“Oh, I had to help Agatha with something.” Technically not a lie. 

She purses her lips but can’t complain. “Well, come get some food before it’s all gone.” 

There’s footsteps on the stairs and you look up to find Agatha walking down in a maroon suit and your mouth runs dry. She sees you staring – like always – and gives you a wink. 

“You know, I’m not really hungry,” you say to your mom, completely distracted by the older woman and the taste of her milk that’s still on your tongue. 

[whosscruffylooking]

Militiae Species Amor Est

Militiae species amor est - "Love is a kind of war."

Part II Is Up Now!

This is a story based on an original character, Iris. She has no description in regards to hair, skin color, eye color, etc. It doesn't follow any particular timeline and the events in this story extend longer than the events of the movie. I saw the movie last night and wrote this today in between appointments, so please don't judge if it's slightly messy haha. Please enjoy!

warnings:// some mentions of blood and weapons. time period typical violence.

word count: 6.7k

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The air in the colosseum was thick with noise—cheers, jeers, and the distant clang of swords meeting shields. You sat stiffly in the patrician’s box beside your fiancé, Caius, his hand possessively resting on the arm of your chair. He was absorbed in the spectacle, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement every time the sand turned red. You barely heard him as he leaned close, muttering about the skill of one gladiator. Your attention, however, was elsewhere.

“Hanno,” the announcer’s voice boomed over the crowd, and the colosseum erupted into a frenzy. “The Eagle of the Arena!”

The title was grand, but it wasn’t the name that sent a shiver down your spine. It was the description whispered about him in every corner of Rome: a fighter with unmatched presence, defiance in his eyes, and a grace that reminded you of someone you thought you’d lost forever.

Lucius.

The boy who had once been your entire world.

Your heart raced as the gates creaked open, and Hanno stepped into the sunlight. The sight of him stole your breath. He was older now, broader, his body honed by years of struggle, but there was no mistaking him. His hair, still curling the way you remembered, caught the light, and his eyes—those stormy blue eyes that had once looked at you as though you were the only thing that mattered—swept over the crowd.

Lucius.

He moved like the wind, his steps steady, his posture unshaken. The arena seemed to bend to him, the crowd hanging on his every movement. He raised his sword, saluting the emperor, but you knew him too well to miss the flicker of contempt in his gaze. That small defiance confirmed it.

You didn’t realize you were staring until Caius’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“You seem unusually captivated, my dear,” he said, his tone light but edged with suspicion.

You blinked, dragging your gaze away from the arena. “It’s… he’s remarkable,” you managed, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt.

Caius smirked, his pride swelling as if he were responsible for the spectacle before you. “Hanno is Rome’s finest now. A true warrior.”

Your eyes drifted back to Lucius—Hanno—before you could stop yourself. Memories of your childhood together flooded your mind: running through the gardens of Lucilla’s villa, the way his laughter had filled the air like music, the nights you whispered your dreams to each other under the stars.

He had been everything to you, even though the world told you he couldn’t be. You were a servant, an invisible presence in the household of his mother, Lucilla. But to Lucius, you had been more. He’d promised you, one night under the moon, that he would find a way for you to be together.

That promise had been shattered the day Maximus died. Lucius was sent away, his mother’s grief consuming everything in its path. You were left behind, forced to grow up in silence, betrothed to Caius—a man you didn’t love, who saw you as nothing more than a beautiful possession.

Now, years later, here he was. The boy who had held your hand in secret was now a man commanding the attention of thousands, and yet he was still fighting. Not just for survival, but for something greater. For freedom.

You couldn’t look away.

As the match began, Lucius moved with the precision and grace of someone born to the sword. Every strike, every parry, every step was measured and deliberate. He fought like a man who had nothing to lose and everything to prove.

When the fight ended—his opponent crumpled in the sand, and the crowd screamed his name—Lucius raised his head. For a fleeting moment, his eyes met yours, and you saw recognition spark there, sharp and immediate.

He knew you.

Your breath caught, your hands gripping the edge of your chair. He didn’t look away, his chest heaving as he stared up at you. The distance between you felt both vast and nonexistent.

“Are you unwell?” Caius’s voice jolted you back to reality, his brows furrowed in irritation.

You forced a smile, your heart pounding. “No. It’s nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing.

It was him.

Lucius.

And you would find him again. No matter what it took.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The roar of the crowd surged like a wave, crashing against the walls of the colosseum, but Lucius barely heard it. He stood in the center of the arena, the weight of his sword steady in his hand, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of the fight. The sand beneath his feet was stained red, the air thick with heat and blood.

Another victory. Another step toward survival.

He turned to acknowledge the emperor with a sharp salute, but his movements were mechanical. His body obeyed out of habit, but his mind was elsewhere, as it always was after a fight. Somewhere far from Rome, far from the sand and the chains. Somewhere warm and quiet, where he wasn’t a gladiator, wasn’t the Eagle of the Arena.

Then he looked up at the crowd, scanning the patrician’s box with a glance he’d perfected—casual enough not to attract suspicion, sharp enough to note every detail.

And he saw her.

At first, he thought his exhaustion was playing tricks on him. He blinked, his grip tightening on his sword as he stared at the woman seated high above. The sun caught her hair, and though she was dressed in the fine silks of a noblewoman, there was no mistaking her.

It was her.

For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. The world around him blurred—the cheers of the crowd, the stink of the arena, even the pain radiating from his bruised ribs. None of it mattered. All that mattered was the woman in front of him.

She was older now, more poised, her features sharper, but it was still her. The same eyes he used to stare into when they were children, the same curve of her lips that had whispered his name in the dark corners of his mother’s villa. The servant girl who had once been his whole world.

The girl he had loved.

Her eyes widened as they locked on his, a mix of shock and disbelief crossing her face. He wondered if she thought him a ghost, just as he had often imagined her face in dreams, only to wake and find himself alone. But this wasn’t a dream. She was here.

His chest tightened as a thousand memories flooded back. Running barefoot through the gardens together, laughing as they dodged his tutors and stole food from the kitchens. Her small, warm hands brushing his as they sat by the fountain, sharing secrets no one else could know.

And then the promises. He had been so sure, so determined, swearing under a sky full of stars that he would always protect her, always come back for her. But life had taken that choice from him. His father’s death, his mother’s grief—it had torn him from her side and thrown him into a world where love had no place.

Yet here she was, staring at him as though no time had passed at all.

The man beside her shifted in his seat, leaning close to speak to her. Lucius’s jaw clenched as the man’s hand brushed hers, the gesture small but possessive. So, she was engaged. Of course, she was. A woman like her, even a servant, could be bartered into a match that served some Roman noble’s ambitions.

But when she looked at her betrothed, there was no warmth in her eyes. None of the light he remembered.

She turned back to him, and for a moment, it felt as though the years melted away. The noise of the arena faded, the weight of his chains forgotten. It was just her and him, as it had always been.

Lucius felt something stir inside him, something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years.

Hope.

His salute lingered a moment longer than it should have, his gaze unwavering. He saw the way her breath hitched, the way her fingers gripped the edge of her chair as if grounding herself against the storm inside her.

And then the guards called for him to return to the cells. The gate creaked open behind him. He forced himself to turn, to walk away, but every step felt heavier than the last.

She was here. She had found him.

And now, no matter the cost, he would find her again.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The barracks were dark and quiet, save for the faint crackle of the brazier in the corner. Lucius sat on the edge of the wooden bench, his head bowed, his hands idly tracing the grooves of the blade across his lap. Around him, the other gladiators had fallen into a tense silence, their usual jests and muttered complaints subdued after the day’s bloodshed.

He’d been Hanno for so long now, the name sliding easily from the lips of the guards, the crowd, the men who fought and bled beside him. Hanno, the invincible gladiator, the Eagle of the Arena. No one questioned where he had come from, why his skills surpassed so many others. They only saw what they wanted—a spectacle, a story to worship or envy.

But tonight, none of that mattered.

Her face had been burned into his mind since he’d seen her, her wide eyes locking with his in the colosseum. Every move he made since had been automatic, his body fighting and surviving on instinct, while his mind reeled with the impossible truth: she was alive.

He gritted his teeth, clenching the blade harder. For years, he’d allowed himself to believe she was lost to him, married off to some faceless noble, her life swallowed by the world of the Roman elite. He’d tried to bury the ache of it, the guilt that he hadn’t fought harder to keep her, the memories of her laugh, her touch, her whispered promises in the moonlight.

But now she was here, close enough to reach, yet still out of his grasp.

“Oi, Hanno,” a gruff voice broke the silence. One of the older gladiators, Gaius, sat sharpening his sword in the corner, his one good eye glinting in the firelight. “You’ve been starin’ at that blade like it owes you coin. What’s on your mind?”

Lucius glanced up, his expression carefully neutral. “Nothing.”

Gaius snorted, unconvinced. “You’re a terrible liar. You’ve been off since the games today. Can’t say I blame you—crowds like that, they’ll rattle anyone.” He leaned forward, a sly grin spreading across his scarred face. “Or maybe it was someone in the crowd?”

Lucius froze, but only for a moment. Long enough for Gaius’s grin to widen.

“Thought so,” Gaius said. “Some patrician woman caught your eye, eh? Happens to the best of us. Those fine silks and soft hands… nothin’ like the sand and blood we’re used to.”

Lucius forced a smirk, playing along. “Maybe. She looked familiar, that’s all.”

“Familiar?” Gaius raised a brow. “A patrician you’d know? From before?” He lowered his voice, his tone suddenly serious. “Careful, lad. That kind of thinking’ll get you killed. We’re gladiators now, not men with pasts.”

Lucius ignored the warning, leaning back and keeping his voice casual. “You’ve been here longer than most. You hear things. You know people. If I wanted to find out about someone—just out of curiosity—how would I go about it?”

Gaius squinted at him, suspicious now. “Depends who you’re asking about.”

“Her,” Lucius said, his tone sharper than he intended. “She was in the patrician’s box today. y/h/c, y/e/c. Engaged to some nobleman.”

Gaius let out a low whistle. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Hanno. Asking about a patrician’s bride-to-be? What, you think you’ll sweep her off her feet, carry her out of here on your shield?” He laughed, but when Lucius didn’t respond, the humor faded from his face.

“You’re serious,” Gaius muttered.

Lucius didn’t answer, his jaw set in a way that made it clear he wasn’t going to let this go.

Gaius sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. But you didn’t hear this from me. There’s a steward who works the colosseum, handles the guests in the noble galleries. Quintus is his name. He’s got loose lips when he’s had a bit to drink. You might learn something from him.”

Lucius nodded, already planning his next move. He would find this Quintus, he would learn what he could, and he would find a way to see her.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The barracks were suffocating, the air heavy with the stench of sweat and blood. Lucius sat on the stone bench, his head bowed, hands clasped as though in prayer. But he wasn’t praying. Not to the gods, at least. If they had ever cared for him, they had long since turned their backs.

Her face haunted him—the moment he’d locked eyes with her in the patrician’s box. Everything about that instant had shattered his focus, his purpose. The games, the crowd, the blood—they had all faded in that one heartbeat when he saw her again. Iris.

The name stirred something deep within him—something he had buried long ago. She shouldn’t have been there. In this place, with him, after all this time. But there she was, sitting among the nobles, looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and recognition, as though she, too, had never forgotten their past. The girl he had loved. The girl he had lost.

He had to know who she was with now—who held her heart.

He caught Titus, one of the younger gladiators, in the corridor late that night when the air had cooled and the others were lost in their rest. The torchlight cast shadows that made everything feel like a dream.

“I need you to send a message,” Lucius said, his voice quiet but firm.

Titus hesitated, glancing nervously at the hallway. “A message? To who?”

“Quintus. The steward,” Lucius said. “Tell him Hanno requests an audience.”

Titus frowned, confused. “Quintus? Why him?”

“Just do it,” Lucius ordered, his tone hardening. “Tell him the Eagle wants to speak to him.”

Reluctantly, Titus nodded and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Lucius alone again with his racing thoughts.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It wasn’t long before Quintus arrived, stepping into the dim light of the corridor with a casual air that belied his sharp eyes. He stopped just outside the bars of Lucius’s cell, arms crossed, his usual smirk playing at the edges of his mouth.

“To what do I owe the honor, Hanno?” Quintus asked, his voice thick with mockery.

Lucius moved to the bars, his grip tight. “I need information.”

Quintus’s eyebrow arched. “Information? About what?”

“Her,” Lucius said, his voice barely above a whisper. “The woman who was in the patrician’s box today. Iris.” He said her name with a careful hesitation, as though he had spoken it too many times in his head already. “I want to know who she’s engaged to.”

Quintus’s smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly masked his surprise. “Caius Livius, if you must know,” he replied, his tone as indifferent as ever. “She’s promised to him. A senator’s son.”

Lucius’s jaw tightened, anger rising like a fire within him. Caius. The name tasted bitter on his tongue. He had no claim on Iris anymore, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“And where do I find her?” Lucius asked, his voice colder than before.

Quintus leaned closer, his expression unreadable. “You think you can just walk into their life and take what’s already promised?”

“I didn’t ask for your judgment,” Lucius shot back, gripping the bars so tightly his knuckles turned white. “I asked for information.“

Quintus held his gaze for a long moment, as though weighing the consequences of giving away more than he should. “Fine ,” he said finally, his voice lowering. “The wedding is planned for the Saturnalia, and he’ll be parading around the city like any nobleman would. But you, Hanno, are nothing but a gladiator. You’re not in their world anymore.”

Lucius’s eyes hardened, his resolve set. He didn’t care. He would find a way.

Quintus sighed, seeing the determination in Lucius’s eyes. “Be careful. Men like Caius do not take kindly to those who try to steal what they believe belongs to them.”

“I don’t care about their world,” Lucius muttered, his grip still tight on the bars. 

Quintus chuckled softly, backing away. “As you wish, Hanno. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And with that, he disappeared down the corridor, leaving Lucius standing alone in the darkened cell.

Iris. She was still here, still within his reach. But now he had to find a way to cross the divide between the life she lived and the life he had been forced into. It would take time, cunning, and risks—he knew that.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The days dragged on in the darkened confines of his cell, but Lucius’s mind was sharp, focused on one singular goal. Iris. Her name burned in his chest like a flame, and every passing hour only fueled his determination to find a way to see her again.

The opportunity finally came in the form of a pre-wedding celebration, a lavish event that would be held in honor of Caius Livius and Iris’s upcoming union. Lucius had learned the details from his fleeting conversation with Quintus. The nobles would gather, music would fill the air, and the festivities would overflow with rich food and wine. And what better place to make a grand appearance, to show his worth and cement his place in the arena, than there?

It was a risky move, but Lucius had long learned that risks were the only path to getting what he wanted. And he wanted Iris back in his life—somehow.

He had been pacing in his cell for days, his mind spinning with ways to gain Macrinus’s approval. The man who oversaw the gladiators was a hard man to impress, focused only on profit and spectacle. But Lucius knew something that could sway him—something that could make Macrinus see the value in letting him appear outside the arena.

When the time came, Lucius finally approached Macrinus after training. The large man stood by the door to the gladiator barracks, as usual, his eyes calculating, a permanent frown etched across his face.

“You’ve got something on your mind, Hanno?” Macrinus’s voice was rough, like gravel scraping against stone.

“I want to fight at the pre-wedding celebration,” Lucius said boldly, stepping forward, meeting Macrinus’s gaze without flinching.

Macrinus’s frown deepened, his brow furrowing as he studied Lucius with suspicion. “What do you mean? You’re already booked for the next game.”

Lucius’s voice remained calm, confident. “A demonstration. A show for the nobles. Not just a fight. A spectacle—something more than just the blood and sand they’re used to. I am worth more than that. My name is already known. They’ll talk about this for weeks. It’ll bring attention to the arena.”

Macrinus scoffed. “I’m not here to pander to noble whims. They want to see blood, Hanno, not performances.”

Lucius leaned in, dropping his voice to a low, convincing tone. “What if you gave them both? The fight, the blood, and the spectacle? You know how the rich love their games, their entertainment. They’ll throw more coin at you than you’ve seen in months. You think I’m just a tool for the sand? No. I’m a showman, too. I can be both your champion and your attraction, Macrinus.”

Macrinus studied him for a long moment, a trace of hesitation on his face. Lucius knew he had his attention. It was all about playing to the man’s greed.

“You think they’ll pay for that?” Macrinus asked skeptically.

“I know they will,” Lucius replied confidently. “You know they will.”

There was a long pause, the silence thick with the weight of the decision. Finally, Macrinus spoke, his tone begrudging. “Fine. But don’t disappoint me, Hanno. If you fail to deliver, you’ll never see the light of day again. Understood?”

Lucius gave him a single, sharp nod. “Understood.”

The deal was struck. He would appear at the celebration—not as a mere gladiator, but as an entertainer, a spectacle that would tantalize the nobles and remind them of the fierce warriors they had come to worship. But Lucius’s true goal wasn’t just to perform. It was to find Iris again.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The night of the pre-wedding celebration arrived, and the grand estate was alive with opulence. Torches lined the paths, casting flickering shadows over the marble columns that held up the towering structure. The air was thick with the sound of music, the chatter of guests, the clinking of goblets filled with wine. Lucius stood in the center of the courtyard, wearing a costume not meant for battle but for spectacle—a fighter’s attire mixed with elaborate decorations meant to draw the eye.

The moment he stepped into the midst of the crowd, all eyes were on him. His reputation had already preceded him, and now, in the midst of this rich, noble gathering, the anticipation of the fight—his performance—was palpable.

Lucius’s heart pounded in his chest, but not because of the crowd’s gaze. He was searching for her. Iris.

It didn’t take long before his eyes found her, seated at the edge of the grand table, surrounded by the high-ranking men and women of Rome. She was seated next to Caius, her fiancé, but it was her presence that caught Lucius’s attention, her graceful posture, the way she held herself with a quiet elegance that made his heart ache.

She hadn’t noticed him yet, but Lucius knew this was his chance. He had to speak with her. He had to know if she remembered what they had shared. If she felt the same pull he did.

He played his part well, engaging in a mock duel with one of the other gladiators, performing for the crowd, his movements sharp and exaggerated. He could hear the gasps of excitement, the laughter, and the murmurs of approval. But his gaze never left her.

When the crowd finally began to thin out, when the festivities had moved inside to the banquet hall, Lucius saw his opportunity. He took a deep breath, stepping away from the cheering spectators and weaving through the courtyard, making his way toward the quiet area where Iris had slipped away from the crowd.

His pulse quickened as he neared her, and when he saw her alone for the briefest of moments, he stepped forward, his heart pounding with urgency. But just as his hand reached for the veil of the moment, a shadow fell across his path, and he froze.

“Iris.”

Her name, spoken with the weight of ownership, cut through the air. Lucius’s breath caught in his throat as Caius Livius stepped into view, his posture commanding and his eyes sharp with the kind of possessive authority that had always made Lucius’s skin crawl.

Iris’s face faltered for a split second, the mask she had been wearing slipping just enough to reveal the turmoil beneath. She turned, her eyes wide with shock at Caius’s sudden appearance.

“I was about to—” Iris began, but Caius stepped closer, his presence towering over her, blocking Lucius’s approach.

“You were about to what?” Caius’s voice was calm, but there was a hard edge to it. His gaze flicked briefly to Lucius, a look of recognition passing between them before he returned his attention to Iris, his hand subtly resting possessively on her arm. “You should be with your guests, Iris. This isn’t the time for wandering off.”

Iris stiffened at his touch, but she said nothing, her eyes darting briefly toward Lucius.

“I just… needed a moment,” Iris murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She pulled her arm away from Caius’s grasp, the coldness of the gesture unnoticed by him, though Lucius felt the tension between them all the same.

Caius, however, didn’t miss the unspoken exchange. His eyes narrowed, and his tone sharpened. “I’ll take her back inside. It’s better that way.”

Without waiting for her to respond, he placed a firm hand at the small of her back and guided her away, leaving Lucius standing frozen in the shadows of the courtyard, the words he longed to say locked behind his teeth.

As they disappeared into the throng of nobles, Lucius’s gaze remained on Iris, heart sinking as the distance between them grew. He had come so close—too close—and yet fate had thrown him back into the same endless fight.

This was far from over.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The atmosphere in the grand hall was suffocating. Candles flickered in golden sconces, casting long shadows along the marble floor. The chatter of the guests—nobles and dignitaries alike—filled the air, but Iris barely heard any of it. Her mind was elsewhere, her heart somewhere far from the lavish feast unfolding before her.

Tonight was supposed to be a celebration—a night to honor the union of herself and Caius Livius. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped. She had played her part in the arrangements, had donned the gown of a bride and smiled for the guests, but everything felt like a dream she couldn’t wake from. Caius, standing at her side, had not noticed the distance growing between them. His attention was fixed on the guests, on his own image as a future senator, as a man who had already secured his place in Roman society. But for Iris, it was all just a gilded cage, and she was desperate to escape it.

Her gaze drifted toward the center of the room, where the gladiators—Lucius among them, disguised as Hanno—stood, their presence an odd contrast to the aristocratic crowd. They had been invited for spectacle, for entertainment, to make the celebration more “authentic” in the eyes of the nobles. But Iris only saw the man she had once known—Lucius.

There, in the corner of the hall, he stood with his fellow gladiators, their grim faces betraying nothing of what Iris felt in her chest. The way he moved—like a predator, every inch a warrior, but still, something about him seemed so familiar, so painfully alive.

Her breath caught in her throat as their eyes met. It was brief, a moment suspended in time, but it was enough. He hadn’t seen her as a noblewoman. He hadn’t seen her as the fiancée of Caius Livius. He saw her, Iris, the girl who had once run barefoot through the gardens of Lucilla’s estate with him, the girl who had watched him train and fought by his side in secret. And in that instant, she could see the same longing in his eyes—the same recognition that told her he had never forgotten her, either.

Her heart raced, and she felt the familiar tug of old emotions threatening to pull her back to him. The years apart, the choices they had made, all seemed so distant now. But standing there, in the same room, everything she had tried to bury came flooding back.

“Iris?” Caius’s voice interrupted her thoughts, pulling her back to the reality of the celebration. She turned to face her fiancé, whose eyes were sharp with suspicion. “You’re not listening.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, offering him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I was… distracted.” She forced her gaze away from Lucius and back to Caius, though the effort felt like a betrayal. “I need to step outside for a moment,” she added, the words tumbling from her lips before she could think better of it.

“Outside?” Caius raised an eyebrow, his face hardening. “Why?”

“I just… need air,” Iris said, her voice trembling. She couldn’t explain it to him—not in this moment, not in front of the guests. She didn’t even fully understand herself.

Caius’ frown deepened. “We’re in the middle of a celebration, Iris. You can’t just—”

“I must go,” she interrupted, her tone sharper than she intended. She could feel the weight of the room, the pressure of everyone watching, and it made her skin crawl. “I’ll return shortly.” She didn’t wait for his response, turning away and heading toward the door before he could say another word.

She had already rehearsed this moment in her mind a hundred times—slipping away unnoticed, making her way to the stables where the gladiators were kept. She wasn’t supposed to be there, but the pull of Lucius—the pull of him—was stronger than any duty she had.

Tonight, of all nights, he would be transported separately from the others. She had learned of his arrival through whispers, and she knew the gladiators would be kept in the cages, awaiting transport to the barracks after the night’s festivities.

But Iris didn’t want to wait. She needed to see him again, to know if it was truly him.

She had paid off a guard earlier, sliding him a small pouch of gold, instructing him to turn a blind eye to her movements. He had agreed, eyes gleaming with greed. She knew it was risky, but she had no choice.

She made her way to the small courtyard behind the villa, where the cages awaited the gladiators. It was dark here, the shadows stretching long and deep, and Iris felt the safety of being hidden, away from the scrutiny of the celebration. The night was still, save for the sound of distant chatter from the main hall.

Iris crouched low behind one of the larger cages, her heart hammering in her chest. She knew they’d arrive soon, and she had one chance—just one. The cage was meant to carry the gladiators back to their quarters, but Iris had found a way to be there first. She slid inside one of the empty cages, curling into the corner where the shadows would hide her. She had to remain out of sight. If anyone saw her, if anyone knew she was here, it would be over.

The cage door creaked open, and the sound of boots on stone grew louder. She held her breath, knowing who it was. When Lucius—or Hanno—finally stepped inside, his form battered, bloodied, and worn from the fight, he stopped, pausing in the doorway. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling, his posture slightly hunched from exhaustion. But even in this broken state, there was no mistaking him.

He didn’t see her at first, his gaze on the floor, but then his eyes flicked up, and they locked. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Iris…” His voice was low, hoarse, almost disbelieving, as if he had to convince himself that she was real.

She swallowed, heart in her throat, and stepped forward. The air between them was thick with unsaid words, but neither of them moved. Not at first. “It’s me,” she said softly, almost in a whisper, afraid to break the fragile spell between them.

Lucius’s gaze softened as he took in the sight of her. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, but still, there was something holding him back. He paused, just a few feet away, as if trying to process the impossible truth of the moment. His eyes searched hers, as if looking for something—some reassurance that this wasn’t just a dream.

“What are you doing here, Iris?” he asked quietly, his voice rough. “You shouldn’t be here. You—” He glanced toward the entrance, where the guards had started moving around, no doubt expecting him to leave soon. “You should be with your fiancé. This is no place for you.”

Her heart stung at the mention of her betrothed. But she couldn’t turn away now, not when he was standing here in front of her, so close and yet so far. She took a tentative step toward him, her fingers brushing the cold bars of the cage, wanting to feel him, to know that he was still the same.

“I couldn’t stay away,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I just needed to see you. To know that you’re still here. That you’re still alive.”

Lucius’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t look away from her. His eyes were filled with something she couldn’t quite place—sorrow, regret, and something deeper, something that made her heart ache with a longing she knew she couldn’t act on.

“I’m not who I was,” he said, his voice quieter now, filled with a mixture of pain and something more. “I’m not that boy anymore, Iris.”

Iris closed her eyes for a moment, her hand still gripping the bars, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside her. She knew the truth of his words. They both knew that nothing had changed—except everything had. The life she had once known with him was long gone. She was promised to another. Lucius was a gladiator, shackled by the life he had been forced into.

“I don’t need anything from you,” she said, her voice breaking as she opened her eyes to meet his. “I just wanted to see you. To know you’re still fighting. To remind myself that you’re real.” Her hand trembled slightly, reaching out. She could barely make herself do it—touch him, feel the reality of him. She just needed to know he wasn’t a memory.

He stood still, watching her, his own hand coming up as if he reached for her, but he didn’t. There was an unspoken understanding between them now—one that neither of them wanted to acknowledge. They couldn’t change what had happened, couldn’t undo the time that had passed. The distance between them now was unbridgeable.

“You have to keep fighting,” Iris said softly, her voice full of quiet desperation. “You have to win these battles, Lucius. Not just for your freedom—but for yourself.”

He nodded slowly, the weight of her words settling in his chest. “I’ll keep fighting,” he said, but his voice was strained. “But what if I don’t win? What if there’s nothing left for me once this is over?”

“You have to try,” she said, shaking her head. She felt her throat tighten, but she held it together, taking a deep breath. “For you. For the chance to have something more than this. I can’t change what’s already been decided. But you…” Her voice faltered for a moment. “You can still change your life. You can change Rome. The emperor’s reign terror over us all. The very thing Maximus fought to destroy has been reborn. This…this could be Rome’s second coming. You could change everything!” 

He stood still, eyes narrowed as she spoke, her voice growing more urgent, more pleading. The hope in her words was thick, almost suffocating. The weight of her expectations settled onto his shoulders, heavier than any armor he had ever worn in the arena. She was asking him to be a symbol, to be something more than just the man who had been torn apart by the brutal hands of fate. To rise up, to fight—not for his life, not for his freedom—but for something else, something bigger than them both.

The bitterness swirled inside him, bitterness he couldn’t quite shake, even though he knew it wasn’t fair. He wanted to pull her close and ask if she had really come here for him—or if she had come because she needed him to be more than the gladiator she saw. Was she still seeing the boy she once knew? Or had the weight of Rome’s problems and the brutality of their world transformed that image into something else?

“You think I’m here to save Rome?” His voice was low, thick with disbelief, and maybe something sharper, something closer to anger. He took a step closer, his breath quickening. “Have you really come to ask me to fix a city that’s rotting from the inside? To fight in the name of some grand idea, as if that would change anything?”

He could see the shock in her eyes, the way she stiffened at his words, but the feeling that burned inside him wouldn’t let him soften his tone. “I was a boy who used to laugh with you. Who dreamed of something better. And now, I’m here, in chains, fighting for my life like some beast in a cage—and you expect me to change the world? To fight for a cause that wasn’t mine? To be your hero? What do you even want from me, Iris?”

The sharpness of his words hung in the air, and he regretted them almost immediately. He knew it wasn’t her fault. He knew the weight of everything she had said came from a place of fear, of wanting him to be the person he used to be—the person she wanted him to be. But something inside him twisted in frustration, the lingering taste of his own disillusionment clouding his thoughts.

“You don’t even know what it’s like in here,” he continued, his voice quieter now, but still edged with that underlying anger. “What it takes to survive. I’m not some gladiator who can just rise up and change the world, Iris. I’m just a man trying to get through the next fight. And if I die in the arena tomorrow, what’s left of me? What good does it do Rome?”

His fists clenched at his sides, but his gaze softened just a little, though he didn’t allow himself to look away from her. “I know what your life is supposed to be. I know you’ve got your future planned out, with your betrothed and your family. You don’t need me. You don’t need this.” He gestured toward the cage, the arena that held him captive. “You don’t need someone like me anymore.”

There was silence between them now, and for a long moment, Lucius simply stared at her, the weight of his words still hanging between them. It wasn’t anger he felt—not entirely—but frustration, confusion, and something deeper that he couldn’t put into words.

"You do not get to ask me to be someone I’m not anymore.”

Iris stood there, her hand still gripping the bars, her body trembling slightly under the weight of his words. She hadn’t come here to convince him to save the empire. She had come to see him, to remind herself of who he was before he became Hanno—the gladiator. But Lucius, had taken it another way.

Maybe it was too much for him to hear. Maybe he didn’t know what to do with her presence here, what she expected from him, what he was still capable of giving. And maybe he was right to be angry, right to wonder what had brought her here tonight.

But Iris, standing in the cold dark of the cage with him, wanted to say that she didn’t care about all the politics, the battles, the blood. She didn’t care about Rome or her betrothed or the life that had been set out for her. She just wanted him. The boy she had known, the one who had made her laugh and dreamed of a future together. The man standing in front of her now, in chains, so far from the man he had once been.

But she didn’t know how to tell him that. Instead, she stepped back, slowly, her heart breaking with each movement. She had come here to see him, to remind herself of who he was—but now, as he stood there, unable to see past the fight that consumed him, it felt like all of that was slipping away again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. She turned away, the weight of his words still echoing in her ears. “I didn’t mean to ask you to be someone you’re not.”

And with that, she walked away, the door of the cage closing behind her with a final, resounding thud. Lucius watched her go, his chest heavy with regret, but no words came. The cage was cold. The night outside was full of laughter and light, and yet, it felt impossibly far away.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Safe Haven

Pairing: Mr. Crawling x reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence and gore (only a few mentions), pure fluff, Mr. Crawling being a cutie pie.

Words: 1k

Summary: Despite the horrors you saw in the other dimension, bringing one of them home actually seems like a good idea.

P.S. To all of you who love soft!yanderes, I recommend playing Homichiper IMMEDIATELY

_________

"I'm home. "

You turn the lock on the door, smiling from ear to ear when you hear hurried steps paired with a "clack" of a cane. Goodness, he's getting faster with every day, you think as you watch a walking giant wrapped into a fuzzy white bathrobe emerge from the corridor. His impossibly long hair is loose and a little damp, and for a second, it feels he came straight from a horror movie. It makes you laugh.

"Dear!"

He almost runs into you, his cane clicking aggressively against the floor, and you giggle like a schoolgirl on her first date. His embrace feels so warm, his gentle hands rubbing your back as he kisses the top of your head.

Everything about him feels like home.

"I cooked a potato soup," he breathes out, excited to share his little news, "and baked a meat pie! And then I read a book. And then me take bath..."

He gets a little red when he realizes his old speech patterns are getting back, but you're quick to divert his attention, dropping a kiss to his nose. Poor man gets even redder and kisses you, too, immediately helping you take off your coat and giggling with embarrassment. He's one weird gentleman but a gentleman, nonetheless.

"I'm glad you had a good day," you wink at him, picking up your grocery bag. Today, you bought his favorite tea, and you know how excited he will get to brew it himself.

When you escape a hollow, depraved world, even the simplest of things will make you weep. Once you have returned to your apartment, barely alive and scared to your wits' end, making a cup of tea felt like a miracle. It's hard to imagine how bizarre the whole concept seemed to poor Mr. Crawling, who probably ate nothing but human or monster remains for as long as he was there.

You no longer speak of what happened in the monster realm. Needless to say, it took some time to come to terms with your little adventure and its outcome being a giant skinny monster now inhabiting your apartment. Not that you were all that bothered with the latter... Especially when you realized Mr. Crawling was not, in fact, a monster.

When you think of it now, it seems kinda stupid on your part. You were turning into one of those creatures yourself the longer you stayed there, and yet, somehow, it didn't click your lovely monster partner was human once. That he, too, had been a lonely soul who got stuck in that hellish limbo and had to transform to survive.

It was a huge surprise when he actually started speaking human language after of couple of days at your place. You first thought you misheard him.

Of course, it took him a long time to remember what it's like to be human: you've spent months gently nudging him in that direction, talking to him like to a child, showing him books and cartoons, turning on music and doing pretty much anything to help him turn back into his older self. Mind you, you also had to keep working to sustain the both of you, given you had no other income, and do the chores because Mr Crawling was absolutely clueless what to do. He was more of an in-house cat than a person at the time.

Still, it felt liberating when your monster partner finally started regaining his human memories and habits. You probably won't ever forget when he crawled to you, reaching out shyly to squeeze your hands in his, and mumbled, "M-me think... me think me called Gabriel..."

"Enough salt?" He nudges you gently, and you blink, coming back to your senses. His meat pie is so good it's really not the time to be reminiscing of the past.

You cover his large pale hand with yours as you smile, "It's perfect."

Embarrassed, he nods, looking into his own plate as you take another bite, wondering how lucky you got. Who else could have not only left another dimension filled with unspeakable horrors but also dragged the cutest of them with you?

Fed up with you stalling, he bends over to you and drops a kiss to your nose once more, letting out a high-pitched giggle. His black hair close around you like a curtain: you didn't have the heart to tell him to cut it. Now that he has become almost completely human, you somehow miss his monster appearance.

"I love you," you say all of a sudden, unable to keep it to yourself. Enveloping him in a hug, you press your face into his chest, listening to the subtle beating of his heart he had lost once. His bathrobe feels fuzzy and warm on your skin.

He says nothing at all, but in a second, he gently lifts you up from the kitchen chair only to put you down on his lap: despite turning human, he still remains ridiculously tall and strong. Not that you complain, melting in his embrace as he rubs his nose against your temple, his tender hand on your back. Against all odds, there's nothing you dislike about him. Even putting aside all his heroic acts to protect you in the other world, he seems like a pure, gentle soul who would always prioritize your safety and comfort above all else. You can't understand why he chose to help you the moment he saw you, but you don't feel like it's important. All these months, your only mission was to give him home, to pay him back for everything he's done for your sake.

Yet, somehow, it feels like both of you found home in each other.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

james potter x reader where the others scheme a date

Hogsmeade weekends were supposed to be chill. Stroll around, grab some Butterbeer, have an actual good time. But no, not when you had this group of friends.

The day had started innocently enough. You, James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were wandering through the cobbled streets of the village, the chilly air nipping at your cheeks. James, as always, walked a little too close, his shoulder bumping into yours every so often. Sirius was laughing loudly at something ridiculous, while Peter was fumbling with a packet of chocolate frogs.

“Honestly,” you said, smirking at Remus, “You’re absolutely wrong, Lupin,”

“I’m not,” Remus raised an eyebrow, adjusting the scarf around his neck. “The book clearly states—”

“Oh, here we go. The book states,” you interrupted, waving your hand in the air mockingly. “I didn’t realize we were hanging out with Hogwarts: A History today.”

Sirius snorted. “Shots fired, Moony.”

“You can’t win against her,” James said with a grin, adjusting his glasses. “Just give in now, mate.”

“Never,” Remus replied, clutching his imaginary pearls. “Unlike some people, I don’t concede to chaos.”

“You concede to chocolate,” you countered, smirking.

The banter continued until Sirius abruptly stopped, spinning around with a dramatic flourish that made his cloak billow like he thought he was some kind of medieval prince. “Actually, as riveting as this has been” he began, his tone suspiciously casual, “I think I’m gonna pop into Honeydukes. Anyone want to join?”

“Sure!” Lily chirped, adjusting her hat.

“I could do with some sweets,” Remus said, eyeing Sirius skeptically but playing along.

“Count me in,” Peter added, already salivating at the thought of fudge.

You blinked, slightly caught off guard. “Wait, are we all going? James, you coming?”

James opened his mouth, likely to say yes, but Sirius slapped a hand against his chest, stopping him. “Oh, no. Nope. Negative. Not happening.”

You frowned, looking between Sirius and James. “Uh, why not?”

“Yeah, why not?” James echoed, shoving Sirius’ hand away.

Lily chimed in smoothly, her expression far too innocent. “Because the car only fits four people, love.”

James squinted at her. “Lils, we walked here. Together. On foot. As a group.”

“Exactly,” Remus cut in, a suspicious glint in his eye. “And now we’re heading back... by foot. But separately. To balance out the symmetry.”

“Symmetry?” you repeated, your eyebrows shooting up.

“Yes,” Peter said, nodding vigorously. “It’s... the rules of the village. Hogsmeade law. Very strict. Four people max per... Honeydukes visit. And symmetry.”

The four of them shuffled off, muttering a chorus of nonsensical excuses. “Very strict rules... totally official... you’ll understand when you’re older...”

You and James stood frozen in the middle of the street, watching them disappear into the distance.

“What just happened?” you asked after a moment, turning to James, bewildered.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, his expression caught between amusement and disbelief. “I think we’ve been abandoned.”

You squinted toward Honeydukes, where your friends were very obviously not adhering to any “symmetry laws” and instead stuffing their faces with sweets through the window.

“Well,” James said, his voice suddenly hopeful, “I guess it’s just us then.” He grinned at you, his cheeks pink from the cold. “Wanna make it a date?”

Your heart flipped at the word date, but you played it cool, tilting your head dramatically. “Hmm. I don’t know, Potter. What’s in it for me?”

He leaned in just slightly, his grin turning cheeky. “A lifetime of my charming company, of course.”

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “Oh, well, in that case... lead the way.”

As the two of you wandered off toward The Three Broomsticks, your laughter echoing through the chilly air, you couldn’t help but glance back toward Honeydukes. Sirius caught your eye through the window, winking as he shoved a licorice wand into his mouth.

“Idiots,” you muttered fondly, shaking your head.

James didn’t seem to mind one bit.

[lyjen]

Behind Closed Doors | Eddie Diaz

Summary: Two years ago, (Y/n) managed to escape her abusive, bad, drug business ex-boyfriend by snitching him. But now, after all she’s been through, he found her. He’s back and filled with rage. He decides to shoot his shot when (Y/n) is babysitting Chris as Eddie’s at work.

Request: @megafandomsxassemble

9-1-1 Masterlist

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

(Y/n) smiled at the sight of Chris fastening towards the shelter where the jaguar lives in the Los Angeles zoo. Eddie’s fingers were intertwined with (Y/n)’s as they walked through the zoo, Eddie pressed his lips against the side of (Y/n)’s head. “It’s nice, seeing Chris happy” (Y/n) said as she glanced over at Eddie, who had his eyes locked on Chris.

“I haven’t seen him this happy in a while.” Eddie said without letting Chris out of his sight. “What about you? You’re happy to be back at work?” (Y/n) couldn’t help but ask.

Since Metro dispatch had been caught fire, Eddie finally got the chance to put on the turnout gear again, and he finally got back to the 118, he seemed happier. But it still would be nice to hear it from himself. “I’m not made for sitting behind a desk, making tweets and calling with journalists. The one eighteen is where I belong.” Eddie started as he now finally glanced back at her.

“I have a job that I love, a kid that I love, and an amazing girlfriend who I also love. So to answer your question: yes. I’m happy.” he continued as he ended his words with a smile he sent her.

They slowly walked closer to Chris, as the sound of a vibrating phone mixed with a ringtone started to fill her eardrums. She let her free hand open her bag, and fish out her phone while Eddie waited for her to decide if she wanted to answer or not.

“It’s Buck” she said as she looked over at Eddie, “Do you mind if I-?” she added as she motioned her head towards the phone. He shook his head, “No, sure.. go ahead. I’ll go and keep Chris some company.” Eddie said as the grip of his hand got looser, and their hands disconnected.

Not even a few seconds later Eddie was going towards Chris, and (Y/n)’s thumb clicked the green button to accept the call. She held her phone against her ear as she greeted her brother.

“Hey sis, I feel like this is a bad time to call, is it?” Buck sounded through the phone, she laughed at his sudden reaction. “No it isn’t, but it’s nice you’re still trying to use your twin abilities. Even though it never worked.” she answered her twin brother through the phone.

The Buckley family didn’t really count on two babies after they tried to save Daniel. But when the doctor checked, they found baby A and B. Another chance to save Daniel, that’s what they thought. But even though Buck was a match to his older brother, the bone marrow cells failed to graft causing a relapse of symptoms one year after the two were born.

“I was just calling to check on you, what are you up to today?” He asked, it was sweet of him to keep on checking on his sister every now and then. Even though they saw each other almost everyday. “Um, Eddie and I took Chris to the zoo. Ever since they’ve renovated it and fixed everything after the black out, he has been begging us to go.” she explained as she slowly scanned the environment she was in and paced back and forth.

“Can’t say no to the boy, can you?” Buck chuckled through the phone, making her laugh again. He knew his twin too well. “Yeah, it’s the puppy eyes he makes that wins me over. I don’t know about Eddie, I think he can handle it better than me.” she explained, as she looked at her feet and back into the scene she was in.

“You okay though? I mean it has been a while since you’ve been with someone since..” Buck stopped finishing his sentence. “You know who..” he added, he wasn’t going to say the name of her ex-boyfriend, it was like his name was cursed. It made her stop pacing around, and close her eyes for a second.

Blake.

That was the name he didn’t want to say or use.

Blake seemed like a good guy, and he was… at least until he had (Y/n) wrapped around his finger. No one knew what happened behind closed doors until (Y/n) managed to get out, and told the truth.

*

Arlington, Texas, US

“I’m sorry we barged into your house like that.” A male voice filled the interrogation room she was in, as he placed a cup of water in front of her. (Y/n) just looked at the man who was standing across from her, while she was sitting in a chair made of metal. Her hair was messy, she was wearing her oversized flannel, she basically looked like shit.

When the silence in the room became louder than the two persons, the man decided to break it, continuing his story. “We’re trying to locate your boyfriend, Blake Dyer.” he continued his last sentence.

Only hearing his name sent a shiver down her spine and her blood ran cold. Of course they were looking for him. Her mind screamed: red flags, red flags when she ever laid eyes on him. But something about him made her heart beat faster. Can you even call that a boyfriend? A guy that abuses you and hits you for every small thing you do wrong?

She swallowed as she looked down to her hands, pushing the fabric of the flannel sleeve over her fingers, hiding her skin, her anxiousness, her being scared for what was going to happen if he would’ve found out if she started talking to cops. What if Blake found out she was here instead of at home? He’d hurt her, not only with words.

She wanted to leave, but part of her desperately wanted to call out for help.

“(Y/n), do you have any idea where we can find him? Did he say anything? Talk to someone? Every little detail could help us.” The man leaned his back against the wall, as he tried to get something out of her.

“I don’t know” she whispered, barely audible. Her eyes were locked on her hands as she fidgeted the flannel fabric between her hands and fingers, everything to avoid eye contact with the man that was across from her. Making the man sigh, she wasn’t saying much, but at least he got something out of her.

“He’s hurting you, isn’t he?” he asked her, and that was the moment she locked eyes with the man immediately. She shook her head as if her life depended on it. Slowly, he stepped closer, “The bruises on your arms and the wound on the side of your head are telling me a different story.” he said, looking into her eyes. The fast reaction to his question, and the fear in her eyes spoke volumes.

She wanted to nod, so badly to the question he asked before, tell him everything she knew about him. But, what if they couldn’t find him and he found her instead?

“We can help you, (Y/n). Get you out of the city, state, anywhere, somewhere safe.” he said, as he couldn’t step any further forward because of the table. She didn’t know where to look, but when he told her that, she was intrigued.

This was it, this was her ticket out of the shit hole she had been in for months, unable to escape. Blake had been telling her she couldn’t leave, despite that, she had tried. Multiple times, but somehow every attempt, he found her. At some point he even broke her arm, and completely knocked her out.

“But we can only do that, if you help us.” he added as he moved past the table and crouched down to be on the same height as her. He could see she was thinking, weighing the pro’s and con’s, the thousand scenarios in her head.

“I can give you some time to think about it.” he offered, but when he said that she shook her head like she was trying to give herself a concussion. “No-” she said a bit too loud, as she cleared her throat. “I’ll help, but you have to promise me that he can never find me.” she answered.

The man pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to tell her without any words that she was doing the right thing. “You help us, and we’ll help you. I promise.” the man held out a hand. For a second she hesitated, but she pushed her arm through the sleeve from the flannel, and gave the man a hand.

He gave her a small nod, “So what can you tell us about Blake Dyer?”

She told them everything.

*

It wasn’t until a loud sigh left her mouth, when she remembered that name. “I’m.. okay” she told Buck through the phone. She had been going to therapy a lot since she fled from Texas and came to California. The police had helped her get out of Arlington, and out of Texas. This whole entire story about Blake ended about two years ago.

And that’s how she ended up in Los Angeles, luckily she didn’t end up living on the couch at her brother’s place. But a small home she rents with help from the Texas police.

“Are you sure?” Buck’s voice sounded concerned as he heard her voice through the phone. She was happy her brother was checking on her and her feelings, something they both had missed when she was with her ex in Texas.

“Yes.. Buck, it’s not like you have to check up on me every time you drop that name. He’s in the past, I’m not in Texas anymore.” She told him she was okay and she didn’t lie, but that weird tingly feeling inside of her stomach every now and then when someone dropped that name, wouldn’t go away.

“Okay, okay.. excuse me for being actually concerned about my sister.” Buck reacted at her words. “But tell me, things between you and Eddie..?” he continued, he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t over step her own boundaries, not that he didn’t trust Eddie, but she was wounded, hurt. And she took the time to heal, but it was scary for her to just step back into something new, when she didn’t really know what true love was. How do you know if you can truly trust someone? How do you know if he’s the one, when someone before him completely broke you mentally and physically?

“We are fine, we talked together, and both agreed we are going to take things my speed.” she said softly, as she nodded to herself that she was doing good. “Baby steps” she added to the sentence. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Chris and Eddie being together, looking at the information sign of the animal.

“Oh he better, because I swear if he pushes you, making you go over boundaries, I’ll beat his ass, maybe even kill him.” She laughed at her brother’s words, he was determined to keep his sister safe now. He missed the signs back then, and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her now that they had found each other again. Her eyes were now focussed on her feet as she turned on her heels, continuing pacing through the small part of the zoo she was.

Her eyes wandered from her feet, up to the connected paths of the zoo. But instantly, her stomach turned at the sight of one of the ten maybe hundreds of people walking through the zoo. It was like when you suddenly hear your name being called by a teacher to speak in front of the class, when you’re incredibly shy.

Know that feeling? That’s exactly the one she had at this point.

Maybe she was starting to hallucinate after he was brought up again, and this was all playing in her head. A guy, who looked just like Blake, walked by. Maybe it was Blake? No, it couldn’t be. Maybe some kind of döppleganger? Blake couldn’t be here, he was in prison for at least seven years with all the evidence they found back then.

Only two years had passed. This wasn’t possible. This had to be a look alike.

The questions were instantly running through her mind as her brother kept on talking to her on the phone.

The shock of seeing some döppleganger, made her instantly look in another direction. But when all of those questions were running through her mind, and she tried to answer part of them, being sure that it wasn’t him, she looked back to double check.

But he wasn’t there. He was gone. Was she imagining things?

Panic was starting to creep into her chest and mind, as she looked around to see if she could find the guy again.

“You should see Chris-” Buck was telling his sister about how Chris is starting to become a real architect because of one of the projects he needed to make for school. But (Y/n) wasn’t listening anymore. “Hey Buck, I’ll call you back okay?” she said, and lowered the phone in her hand. “What? oh yeah, sure-” His voice was audible as the phone made its way down. Before Buck could end his sentence, he got hung up.

She shoved her phone back into her purse not even a second after she ended the call as she fastened her steps towards Eddie who was still with Chris.

“Eddie?” The sound of (Y/n)’s voice sounded through his eardrums. Eddie could tell only by hearing her voice that something was up, her breathing was fastened. He glanced at her as he looked to his side, she seemed upset.

Eddie turned himself towards her, fully facing her now as he had his right hand on the shoulder of his son.

“Hey, is something wrong? Who called-” A worried look was spread over Eddie’s face as he looked at the girl, trying to keep her cool, but it almost looked like she could have a panic attack any moment now. “Can I borrow you for a second?” she asked, as loud as a whisper.

She didn’t want to start spilling her guts when Chris was next to them, trying to enjoy the zoo animals in the area. Eddie nodded, “Sure.. just one second.” he said as he held up his index finger. He turned to Chris who was still fascinated by the animal on the other side. “Hey bud, we’ll be right there if you need us. Stay here for me, okay?” he said as he leaned his head next to Chris’.

“Okay” Chris simply said as his eyes were focussed on the animal, practically drowning in the sight or maybe drowning in fascination. Eddie gave his son a small pat on his shoulder as they took a few steps back, not too far away from Chris, but far enough so he wouldn’t hear the conversation.

She stopped as she placed her face in the palm of her hands and sighed. Eddie stopped in front of her, as he waited for her to start the conversation she wanted to have so badly. After a few counts she disconnected her hands from her face. “Maybe I’m hallucinating, or maybe I am not and.. ” she gasped as she avoided eye contact with him.

“And you’re probably going to say I sound insane.” she rattled as her mouth was moving faster than her mind. “I’ll decide for myself if you sound insane. Now, what’s wrong?” He asked softly, as he grabbed one of her hands and rubbed his thumb on the inside of her hand, trying to calm her down.

“I was on the phone with Buck, he was checking in on me like almost every other day. But then, his name popped up again. And I… thought I saw him.” she didn’t rattle this time, it was still a little bit faster than a usual sentence, but the touch of Eddie helped her calm her nerves a bit.

His eyebrows furrowed at her words, “Who?” She kept referring to “him”, Eddie knew all about her story from the beginning to the end and all the details in between. “Blake” she whispered, as she suddenly looked around like somebody was going to shoot her at any second now. “What? I thought he was in jail? And in another state, right?” He said.

“But I swear I saw him standing right there.” (t/n) said and pointed at the exact same location she saw him earlier. Eddie’s eyes follow her finger as he scans the entire scene they were in, it was like he was hunting for monsters in Chris’ room when he was younger. “(Y/n)..” her name fell off his lips, as he looked back at her, his thumb still tracing over the palm of her hand.

“You think I'm insane don’t you?” She concluded before he could say anything else, as she pulled her hand from his touch.

“No, no, no that isn’t what I’m saying.” Eddie Saïd as soon as she turned her back to him and placed her hand on her forehead. “I just-..” Eddie continued, stumbling. How was he going to say this? He needed her to get out of her own head.

She turned back around, facing her boyfriend again. “Listen, he’s behind bars for at least seven years, that’s what the officer told you back then. Only two years have passed now, and besides that, he’s not going to be able to find you. They covered your tracks back there and they knew what they were doing.” He told her as she was still a bit overwhelmed and stressed.

She wasn't focussed on anything he told her, at least that's what it looked like. But she was listening. Eddie’s hands reached out for her shoulders, as he placed both his hands on it.

“You’re still processing your trauma, and you will be maybe for your entire life. Hallucinations are part of that too. Believe me, I still have them too from the army and it sucks.” Her eyes were locked onto his as his words entered her ears. One of the hands that was on her shoulders, moved from her shoulder to her own hand.

He gently grabbed her hand, “But I’m here with you. I’m real.” He said, and placed her hand onto his own chest, as one last attempt to calm her down.

It's quiet for a moment as (Y/n) didn’t know what to do. “Eddie.. I-” she stumbled as Eddie stopped her mid sentence. “Just focus on my heartbeat okay?” He said as she nodded.

It looked weird for every single person passing by, but yet it did something calming to her. Her breathing became slowly normal, and the panic that was rushing through her veins left her body. “Good?” Eddie softly asked as he noticed her body became less and less tense.

She let out one last loud sigh, with her eyes closed as the sound of Eddie’s voice entered her ears, “You’re safe.”

______

(Y/n) pressed the freshly washed shirt to her chest as she folded it and placed the t-shirt in the laundry basket. The tv was playing in the background as she continued folding the other pieces of just washed and dried laundry, that was on one big pile lying next to her on the couch.

She glanced at the clock in the living room. It was getting late, Eddie was on shift since early in the morning, and wasn’t coming home until the next morning: he was on a twenty four hour shift.

While Eddie was on shift, (Y/n) agreed to stay over at Eddie’s place to look after Chris. (Y/n) didn’t mind, it gave her the time and place to get to know his son when he wasn’t around. Sometimes Chris and (Y/n) would play video games together, and other times they would have a movie night.

But that wasn’t the case right now, Chris was upstairs doing his homework as (Y/n) was doing some chores. It made her feel useful, she didn’t just want to sit her ass down and scroll through her phone or watch trash television.

(Y/n) fished a navy blue t-shirt from the pile, as she tried to undo the shirt from the ball form. But the second she wanted to fold the t-shirt, a loud sound sounded from what she guessed was the kitchen. She was startled by the sudden sound and she was standing upright, old habits.

She had spent years being wary of every little sound from outside. That’s why she had cameras installed outside her home, and a 360 camera inside her home. Just to give her a feeling of security.

She scanned the entire scene she was in, and her eyebrows furrowed as another sound was coming from the exact same location. It couldn’t be Chris, right? If he came down stairs she should’ve noticed it. Cautiously she made her way towards the staircase, with every step she took, she scanned the environment, so she could see any changes if there were any.

When she reached the start of the stairs, she cleared her throat, “Chris you’re doing okay?” she asked not too loudly, she needed to know if he was upstairs or not. Her soft voice sounded through the house.

“I just started with math homework” Chris answered her question. She felt the anxiety rising on the inside of her body, Chris wasn’t the one she was hearing. It was something else. It made her stumble over her words as she tried to stay calm towards Chris. “Oh okay, If you need any help, just ask.” She told him as she felt her hands starting to sweat. “I will, thank you.”

She let out a deep breath as she made her way towards the kitchen, trying to find the source of the sound. (Y/n) stopped at one of the walls that were connected to the kitchen, placing her shoulder against the wall as she peeked along the wall, into the kitchen.

All of the curtains were closed in the kitchen, and the doors and windows were closed and locked. But her eye fell on the shadow that was visible on the backdoor of Eddie’s house. The curtain was right in front of it, but it looked like someone was trying to break into the house. Someone was trying to pick the lock.

(Y/n) fished her phone from her pocket, as she started searching for the app to see the live feed of the camera in the backyard Eddie had installed. He might not have been a fan of camera’s, and smart equipment, but it was important for him that his girlfriend felt safe in his house. And if that meant that Eddie had to install one or two camera’s around the house, he’d push his own feelings aside and did that for her.

She selected the app and waited for it to get the feed. The sound of someone trying to pick the lock was still continuing as she opened the live feed of the camera. At first, she couldn’t see anything since the person was wearing a black hood. But then the person turned around and for one quick second.

(Y/n) paused the infra red camera and quickly started to investigate the person that was in the backyard. She zoomed in, but her heart dropped as soon as she saw the tattoo’s on the guy’s hand. The hand was covered in some weird wave tattoo, and the other hand were a compilation of multiple smaller tattoos.

Blake. He had found her, and was here to get his revenge.

Her hand immediately was placed on her mouth as she tried so hard not to make any sound. She had to get to Chris, and get him to hide. She had to call for help. She didn’t even think, and sprinted towards the staircase she was just a minute ago. She had to multitask at this point.

Just as she stepped onto the first step of the stairs, she tapped Eddie’s contact and placed the phone against her ear. She rushed up the stairs as she impatiently waited for Eddie to pick up his phone. But she gets send to voicemail. “Hey this is Eddie-” a grunt left her mouth as she clicked the red button to stop the call. “Fuck” she muttered under her breath.

He must be on a call, that’s why he wasn’t answering her.

She looked to her left as she saw Chris, his bedroom light shining into the hallway. Soundless as possible she tried to make her way to his room. She stepped into his room and closed the door behind her. Making Chris look confused at her as he dropped his pencil. “Chris, I need you to do something for me.” she said as softly as she could.

“What is it?” he asked her as he watched her move through his room looking for a good place to hide. “I need you to hide with me.” she said, as she opened the folding doors in his room, opening his closet where his clothes hung.

“What?” Chris asked then, looking like she had gone insane. “Listen, I don’t have much time to explain. But someone is breaking into the house.” (Y/n) explained as she came closer to him and lowered herself to his height. “I know it sounds scary, but I’ll be with you the entire time.” she continued.

Chris nodded, “Okay” he said as he stood up from the chair and (Y/n) assisted him to get into the closet. Chris sat down in the corner of the closet as (Y/n) quickly, but soundless tried to turn off the lights. Like a jumpscare, her heart dropped when she heard the door downstairs click open.

When she managed to turn off the lights, she unlocked her phone that was still in her hand, and she tapped on Buck’s contact. Pressing the phone against her ear as she took place next to Chris, and closed the folding doors.

“Come on.. Pick up.” she mumbled as she grabbed a dark blanket out of one of the bags that were on the ground next to (Y/n) and placed it one handedly over Chris.

Eddie grabbed his phone from his pocket, as he let his turnout coat slide off his shoulders. and placed it back on the rack where he just had placed his helmet in too. “That fire was a beast” Eddie said as Buck finally made his way to the rack too and placed his helmet on it. “Another reminder why you should not infact store fireworks in your garage.” Buck laughed as a ringtone filled their ears.

Making Eddie check his phone, to see if anyone was trying to contact him. “Oh- (Y/n) tried to call me a few minutes ago.” he said as he waited for Buck to get his phone.

Buck immediately fished his phone out of his pocket as he felt the vibration in his right pocket where his phone was. He held his phone in his hand as he looked at the name who was trying to reach him. “Speaking of the devil” Buck laughed as he accepted the call and placed his phone to his ear.

“Buck. He found me. He’s here.” she blurted out in a whisper as softly as possible, hoping that the tv downstairs would compensate for the soft voice that came from the closet.

“Wow, wow, wow, slow down. What’s happening?” Buck asked as he tried to focus on his sister’s soft voice through the phone. The sobs through the words weren’t helping either. But the sound of her voice, and the cries, gave him a bad feeling the second he placed his phone to his ear.

“Blake is in the house. I’ve got Chris. Please. Get here now. I don't-” she sobbed as she placed her own hand in front of her mouth, trying to suppress the sound of her sobs.

The name he hoped to never hear ever again, fell off her lips, and that’s when he realized. He had found her. The back of Buck’s hand immediately flew against Eddie’s chest as he just looked confused. “Blake is in the house?” Buck repeated his name as he wanted some kind of confirmation. But he could only hear her muffled, quiet sobs and cries.

Buck’s mind was running a thousand miles an hour as he thought of all the kinds of scenarios that were going down right now. “Okay, (Y/n) I need you to hide and stay on the line until we get there okay?” He said, looking at Eddie as he nodded.

Eddie had a fire burning in his eyes as soon as he heard the name Blake and his location. She had been right about one week ago when they were in the Los Angeles zoo and she almost had a panic attack. Her abusive ex-boyfriend was back, and from what Eddie knew, about her telling the truth to the cops. He was sure Blake was back to get revenge.

His hands balled into fists as he squeezed them so tight together, his nails actually almost punctured through the skin on the inside of his hands as he made a sprint down the lower level of the station. He immediately aimed for Bobby, “Bobby I need to borrow the BC.” he said while thunder was projected onto his face.

Bobby was just looking at his phone, checking for any messages as Eddie stood right in front of him and dropped those words. And Eddie wasn’t asking. “Eddie what’s going on?” Bobby asked him as a frown appeared on his face. What ever just happened in those one or two minutes of time that he didn’t see the much younger firefighter, he went from neutral, to all worked up.

“Family emergency” he just answered, not getting into the details too much. Because even Eddie didn’t know what he was going to do if he’d get the chance to get his hands on Blake. But there was this fire burning on the inside of him, why was Blake back? Why couldn’t he just move on? Hell, why was he even out in the first place?

When Buck came rushing towards the two, Bobby could see the panic in his eyes. The kind he had never seen before. Sure he had seen Buck scared before, but this was different. Bobby switched looks between Buck and Eddie, “fine take the BC” he said, and not even a second after he finished his answer, they were already running towards the car.

“(Y/n) Hold on okay! We’re on our way!” Buck’s voice sounded through the phone as she pressed the phone closer to her ear, she pressed her lips tighter on each other as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she felt her heart trying to jump free from her chest.

She had to calm herself down, she didn’t want him to give away their hiding spot. And she certainly didn’t want to be the reason he found them, if something were to happen to Chris, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to forgive herself. A warm hand was connected to hers as she closed her eyes for a second and looked down to her lap, trying to focus on her breathing.

(Y/n) glanced to her side, it was too dark to see, but she was sure Chris his hand was placed on hers, he was trying to help her. She couldn’t help but smile weakly through her tears, her phone was still connected to her ear and she heard Eddie was calling 9-1-1 while Buck was still on the phone with her. He knew she couldn’t talk back, but every now and then he told her their location, or to hold on, anything to soothe her.

She muted the audio from Buck and Eddie and placed the phone onto the floor in between Chris and herself. (Y/n) let her hand slide through Chris’ hair and pressed a kiss onto the top of his head, trying to soothe him and herself. She didn’t dare to say anything.

It was too quiet on the first floor they were on. But the second she thought that, she could hear the door of Eddie’s room next door open harshly, making the doorknob bouncing into the door. Followed by something made of glass falling down to the ground. She guessed that were the photo’s Eddie had in his room.

Every frame that fell into pieces made her flinch at the sound. The photo’s probably made him even more angrier. He had been in prison for the last two years, while she was just continuïng with her life, trying to rebuild it. While he had been suffering.

“(Y/n)!” Blake’s voice called out, “I know you’re here!” he added, he sounded aggressive as his words were being followed by another shatter of glass and a loud bang. The way her name left his mouth made a shiver roll down her spine, and made her even more terrified. She hadn’t heard his voice for months, years, but him screaming, made it even more real.

Secretly, she hoped this all was a terrible nightmare and she’d wake up any second by now. But no matter how hard she tried, the dream, or nightmare wouldn’t end. “You really think you can hide from me?” he laughed as (Y/n) heard the door open even more closer to them. He had opened Chris’ door. He was in his room.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he continued calling out as (y/n) could hear the heavy footsteps walking over the creaking wood. Her hand was pressed over her mouth as she soundless helped chris underneath the blanket. Tears were blurring her vision, as she heard the footsteps coming closer and closer.

Just when the footsteps seemed to leave the side of the closet they were in, she inaudibly let out her breath she was holding. She looked at the small ball Chris was, almost morphing into the wall. He was doing so good, he was such a brave kid.

But she felt her heart drop as soon as she felt a grip around her ankle, and before she knew what was going on, she got dragged from the closet. A high pitched yelp left her mouth as she got dragged through Chris' room. “Missed me? Bitch.” he groaned as he kept on pulling her leg. (Y/n) tried to kick her free foot against his body to let her ankle go.

They left the room and the second she saw where he was heading, she grabbed the first wooden baluster from the staircase to stop him from pulling her down the stairs. She held on like this was her lifeline, as she felt her body almost split into two as Blake kept on pulling on her leg.

She screamed as she used all of her strength to keep a hold on the wooden baluster. But then, Blake dropped her body by letting go of her ankle.

The second he did this, she tried to get up. With emphasis on tried, because the moment she got onto her knees, a fist full of hair was being grabbed. The tears welled up spontaneously in her eyes as she felt the pain on her head. “Look at you now with your oh so perfect little life.” He said, as he slowly came closer to her face.

He glanced at the photos that were hanging on the walls of the small hallway. “I see you got yourself a new boyfriend, but I got some news for you.” he laughed as he yanked her hair down even more down, so had to look at the pictures on the wall and was facing Blake at the same time.

(Y/n)’s eyes watched Blake’s hand reach down to his pocket. Further than that, she couldn’t see since he was forcing her to look at his face. But a fast high pitched sound filled her ears. The sound of something metal.

“You’re leaving him.” he continued his sentence as he admired the object in his hand for a moment, keeping it out of her line of sight just a little bit longer. Tears were streaming down her face, mixed emotions, the feeling of her hair being pulled from her skull, the fact that she was facing her ex that she had betrayed by snitching him to the cops.

She was gasping for a breath as she tried to keep her emotions under control. She could smell his awful breath, as his face came close enough. He hushed her cries, “Ssh, it’s okay. I don’t want to end this right away. I just want to enjoy this moment a little bit more.” he said with a smile and a laugh. Blake placed the sharp metal he just fished from his pocket underneath her eye.

It was a knife.

Blake used the blade of the knife to wipe away one of her tears that were tracing down her cheeks. Making her heartbeat in her chest even more. “You took everything from me.” he started as he investigated the tear on his blade, mixed with some small hairs from her skin you’d be barely able to see with the naked eye.

“And now.. It’s time you pay it back.” he added as he scanned her entire body once more. “Only better..” Blake ended his words with a whisper and folded the knife again and placed into his pocket. He wanted to let her suffer even more than she already had now and he wasn’t just going to kill her off right here and now. Not when the party was just getting started.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she looked at Blake full with anger. She didn’t answer his words. But she couldn’t help but spit into his face, she had to get out of his grip. The hairs were starting to hurt even more and more. The spit splashed onto his face, and without saying anything, he forced her onto her legs, and yanked her head into one of the photo frames that were hanging on the wall.

His hands were still tangled into her hair as he banged her another time into a second photoframe. Blood was now dripping from her nose as the second time her nose touched the glass first instead of her forehead. “You thought you could run from me hm? You dirty snitch.” he groaned, as he grabbed her chin and cheeks with his free hand. Squeezing it like she was a little baby.

The blood from her nose was making its way down to her lips. She could taste the iron as she felt her entire world spinning in front of her eyes. He roughly pulled her on her hair once more and gave her a hard push, making her lose her balance.

(Y/n) tried to get a grip of the balustrade of the staircase, to stop herself from falling down. But she couldn’t. It felt like she was free falling for a second, but then, her back connected with the wooden stairs harshly. The moment she felt herself falling down the stairs, all she could think of, was protecting her face.

She held her lower arms in front of her face, trying to keep it from getting hurt even more. Her body harshly fell down every single step of the staircase. She could practically feel the bruises start to form themselves onto her body as gravity finally let go of her body.

Face down to the ground, belly touching the ground, she opened her eyes. It felt like she just got out of a merry-go-around from the playground when she was younger. Her entire world was spinning, and it almost made her vomit. She groaned as she slowly tried to pushed herself into the table pose like yoga.

Her ears were ringing but she could hear slowly, harsh, loud footsteps that were approaching her. Just when she thought she had the energy to stand into the table pose, a heavy foot was placed onto her back, pushing her right back where she was. Almost like she was in the army and the trainer wasn’t having it. Except, this wasn’t the army, this was Blake. The ex boyfriend who wanted her dead.

She gasped as her body fell flat onto the floor again. She just felt him making a small circle around her. But then, the side of her body was hit by a sharp, deep, pain. He kicked his foot into her side like she was a football. Making (Y/n) start coughing, and rolling automatically onto her side. (Y/n) let out an ear deafening scream as she tried to soothe the pain by pressing her hand onto the spot.

Nothing else left her mouth but groans of pain. Blake just let her suffer for a few more seconds as he kicked her once more, this time hitting her entire lower torso. “I hope snitching on me was worth it.” he said as he pushed her weakly, in pain body, so she was now on her back.

It felt like her head could pop off her body within a snap of a finger. Her eyelids were heavy, as she looked through a small gap to keep her eyes open. He stepped over her body, standing over her with one foot on each side of her body.

Blake crouched down above her as he grabbed a fist full of her shirt, pulling her partly up from the ground. When her eyes were met by his face again, she felt a raging fire inside of her, an instinct of survival.

She started to push and kick her way out of the position, she was so close to giving up. But felt like she didn’t do enough. She wanted to badly to poke her fingers into his eyes, but before she even touched his face, he roughly grabbed both her arms and pinned them down to the wooden floor.

She was too weak for this, why was it that she was so afraid to fight back? Everytime she heard his voice, it made her froze into her position wherever she was. She couldn’t say anything, couldn’t move. She just froze.

Blake let go of one of her arms as he moved from her arm to her neck, and squeezed her airway shut with every single piece of energy he had left in his hand. “You put me in jail..” he mumbled as his fist turned red around her neck.

The second hand left her other arm, and assisted in blocking her airway. “I’ll put you in your coffin.” he added. (Y/n)’s hands were trying to get between the skin of her neck and his hands. But he was way too strong.

Dots were dancing around her eyes as she gasped for a single breath. She was kicking her feet in agony and her face was slowly turning red, and going from red towards blue. She could feel herself fading away.

But then, the grip around her throat loosened as she saw through the little space of her eye lids, Buck and Eddie pushing him stomach first down to the ground. She didn’t have a clue what was happening as her senses almost shut down.

She couldn’t hear anything clearly as she was gasping for a breath, and this time it did enter her lungs. (Y/n) coughed at the dry air entering her airway as she rolled onto her side tightening her arms around her stomach. Everything in her body hurted.

(Y/n) was in so much pain, she didn’t even see Athena enter the room as she arrested Blake. The only thing she could hear vaguely was her name falling off Eddie’s lips. She saw his black work shoes and the blue trousers coming closer to her as she just kept on crying out in pain.

Eddie felt her screams and cries go through his marrow and bones. It made shiver roll down his spine as he turned on his heels and looked at his girl, all curled up on the ground.

He didn’t know where to look. Her head was full with little scratches and blood, and her nose looked like it was broken. Those were the visible details he could see as he stood there, frozen.

Everything was happening in slow motion, her cries, Athena escorting Blake out as he noticed Buck running up the stairs.

Something happened inside of Eddie’s brain, making him get out of his own brain he was locked in for a minute, and he placed his knees on the ground, next to (Y/n). “(Y/n)?” Eddie’s words came out of his mouth like he was on the edge of crying. He never wanted this to happen to her. To anyone.

It was a horrible sight to witness. He pressed his lips into a thin line to suppress the emotions he felt as he looked at her.

(Y/n) didn’t want to let go of her stomach, it did give her some kind of pain relief. But the second Eddie kneeled next to her, not knowing what to do with his hand, he grabbed one of her hands as the other one remained on her stomach.

“I-I couldn’t..” she stumbled through her sobs.

Eddie was afraid to even touch her, hell, he was even afraid to move her at this point. It was like the medic inside of Eddie had left his body, he didn’t know what to do.

Maybe this is what Bobby usually meant on scene by: you can’t work on your family. He never felt this before, not even with Shannon when she basically died in his arms.

A small sob left his lips as he placed one hand on (Y/n)’s forehead, “It’s okay..” he whispered, he didn’t mean it to come out like a whisper. But he couldn’t control it. “You did.. so good.” he added, he had to push out the words.

A feeling of guilt spread itself through Eddie’s body as he took in the picture right in front of him, once more. What if he stayed home? Maybe this wouldn’t have happened, or maybe it still did, but then he’d be there to protect the both of them, the people he loved.

He pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, trying to soothe her. “I-I..” she continued to stumble, but when Eddie let his eyes wander from their hands to her face, he could see (Y/n) was fading away.

Her eyes were trying to shut down, like she was falling asleep in front of the tv. “No, no, no. Hey, (Y/n) I know you’re tired.. but you have to stay awake.” he said as he gently tapped her on her cheek to keep her awake. Her eyes just slowly opened again.

He could tell she was having trouble with keeping herself conscious. Quick enough, her eyes were trying to close again, she nodded “I know” she mumbled under her breath. “I’m just..-” she continued mumbling, “tired? I know mi amor.. I know.” Eddie finished her words, the voice of him sounded in the back of her head. But Eddie could feel his heart skip a beat when he saw her head tilt to the side.

“(Y/n)?” Eddie’s voice was filled with terror and fear as he watched his girlfriend’s head tilt to the side, losing consciousness. Her name fell off his lips multiple times as he tried gently to wake her up again. His hands moved to her face, tapping against her skin. But there was no movement.

“Don’t do this to me!” words fell off his lips, more like a yell. He pressed his fingers against her neck to feel her pulse. It was racing like she had run a marathon and dropped to the ground. But that wasn’t the case.

Placed his face next to her mouth, he felt oxygen entering and leaving her mouth. She was still breathing.. for now. The medic inside of Eddie had to come back to think clearly. He needed to help her now that the paramedics weren’t here yet.

He could still hear her voice in his head, complaining about her abdomen. And with that thought in his head, he grabbed the lower part of her t-shirt and lifted it. Eddie’s eyes were locked onto the swollen abdomen mixed with a bloody red spot.

She was bleeding internally.

The shock was written all over his face as he felt a piece on the inside of him break down. “No, no, no..” he mumbled as he pulled the shirt even higher, to examine her even further. Her chest wasn’t as bad as her lower part. But when Eddie pushed her gently to her side, to catch a glimpse of her back, he stopped breathing for a second.

Her back was filled with bruises. “Where is that ambulance for fuck sake!” Eddie’s voice sounded through the hallway as he didn’t even dare to get his eyes off (Y/n).

“Come on (Y/n), don’t do this to me..” he mumbled as he looked at the unconscious face of his girl. “We didn’t have enough time.”

______

Eddie felt uncomfortable walking down the stark hospital hallway. He could hear his own shoes clapping faintly against the white perfect polished floor. He hated hospitals with his entire heart, they were full of memories he’d rather forget. (Y/n) was in the same hospital where Shannon passed away a few years back.

He opened the door to her room, as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Eddie paused for a second, taking in the environment around him, scanning the room. His eyes fell on (Y/n), motionless on the hospital bed. The only thing that was sounding through the room were the machines beeping softly, monitoring her vitals.

She was still alive, even though she barely made it to the hospital in time.

Eddie cleared his throat and took in a deep breath as he stepped closer. She had fought so hard, for herself but even more to keep Chris safe.

Eventually he sat down in the chair by her bed, his fingers gripping the armrests like they were the only things holding him together. He had so many things to say, but yet, no words were leaving his mouth.

He sighed loudly, “Mi amor, it’s me.” he said softly. He wanted to be strong, but the second he started talking his entire voice broke down. “I’m so sorry.” he added, as he placed one hand on his mouth, trying to keep himself from sobbing even more.

“I'm sorry I couldn’t protect you.” he continued his words. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “You have to wake up.” he sobbed as tears were starting to run down his face. “You can't leave, not now. Not like this.”

His mind replayed everything, from the moment he barged into the house together with Buck, tackling Blake. To the moment where he held her hand in the ambulance, almost losing her.

She coded in the ambulance. Her heart stopped, and Eddie couldn’t do anything. He just sat there, crying, on the small bench of the ambulance, looking at someone else to try and get her rhythm back.

The compressions went on and on, it felt like hours. They were still doing compressions on her when they rolled her into the ER, leaving Eddie with so many unanswered questions.

But they got her rhythm back, eventually. The doctors told him that she had an emergency surgery, that she was in critical condition. Leaving a hole inside of him.

Even though every single person in the room told him to go home, get a shower, get something to eat, he refused. He needed to be here when she woke up.

It has been days after the accident, her vitals were good, so the doctors decided to take her off the ventilator. He hasn’t been home in days, while Chris was staying with his abuela switching every now and then with Buck.

Even the nurses couldn’t get Eddie out of the room. The only reason he’d leave the room is to go to the toilet or get some food in the awful hospital cafeteria.

Eddie reached out for her hand, carefully he grabbed her hand, avoiding the IV line that was taped to her wrist. “There’s so much I haven’t said.” He started, “so many things I want to do with you.” He stayed focussed on their hands, desperate to feel some kind of reaction. Even if it was just a small squeeze.

His voice cracked as he shut his eyes tightly. Trying to get rid of the tears. “Chris needs you. Buck needs you. I need you.” his voice choked with emotion as he pressed her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss onto her skin.

“Chris has been asking about you..” “You promised him last week to take him to the cinema, remember? To see that new Marvel movie. You’re not going to break that promise, are you?”

“Because I think Chris would get upset when I go with him, I still don’t understand what happened to Captain America.” he let out a shaky breath as a small laugh left his mouth. The marvel movies was their thing, Chris and (Y/n).

Eddie let go of her hand as he leaned back, running a hand over his face again. The room was too quiet, the beeping of the monitors too loud in his ears.

He let out a shaky breath and stood up, starting to pace through the small room. He wasn’t used to this, standing by, powerless.

The soft creak of the door made Eddie come out of his own mind. He glanced over his shoulder, and that’s when he saw Christopher standing there with Buck on his side. Buck’s hand was placed on Chris’ shoulder as they stood in the doorframe.

"Chris?" Eddie said his name filled with confusion. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be with Buck, at home, gaming or doing his homework. "What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at home." He asked as he switched looks between Buck and Chris.

Chris entered the room with Buck slowly following behind him. “I had to come. I need to see her.” He said, determined as he passed his dad. Eddie followed his son, as he made his way to the bedside of (Y/n).

Eddie’s expression was filled with confusion as he looked at Buck. “I’m sorry. I couldn't stop him.” Buck apologized. As they looked at Chris who was looking at (Y/n), lying unconscious in the bed.

Buck had been here everyday just like Maddie, checking on (Y/n), but also checking on their brother in law.

“Chris, you're not supposed to be in here. There aren’t kids allowed on the ICU.” Eddie told him as he folded his arms over each other.

“I don’t care.” Chris said as he switched looks from his dad to (Y/n). “She’s my friend too, dad. And I need to tell her something” he continued determined as he looked at her lifeless in the hospital bed he was standing next to.

Eddie wanted to argue, but when he saw the look in his son’s eyes made him sigh. He shrugged as he shook his head, he wasn’t going to be able to change his mind either. “Fine, but just for a minute.” He said as he kept his arms crossed.

Chris nodded as he looked at (Y/n) for a second, “(Y/n), it’s me. Christopher.” He said as he placed his hand onto her hand.

It was hard seeing and hearing his own son talking to her, but he used one hand to cover his mouth.

“I know you’re really hurt right now, but… you have to get better. You promised me you’d teach me how to make those brownies you always make. And you don’t break promises.” Chris said, making Eddie pressing his lips together into a thin line. Fighting the tears that were already streaming down his face.

“And.. because you make my dad smile, he doesn’t smile like that for anyone. You make him happy, so you have to come back.” Christopher continued, as slowly his voice grew more quiet by the word.

“You can’t leave.” He ended his words as he gave her hand a slight squeeze. He didn’t want to hurt her any more than she already had.

The room was quiet again when Chris had left the room and Buck took Eddie’s son back home. Eddie sat in the chair next to her bed, his head resting on his hand. As his eyes were heavy, like he could fall asleep any moment.

The constant beeps of the machines that were monitoring (Y/n)’s vitals were sounding through his ears. Eddie hadn’t slept in days, except for some power naps, but you really couldn’t call those a goodnight sleep.

“Chris has been making you drawings, he said he’s going to bring you one tomorrow.” Eddie said as a small smile appeared on his face at the thought. His voice sounded rough, must been the lack of sleep.

Eddie pushed himself forward, brushing his fingers across her hand. “I’m sure he will not stop making new drawings until you wake up. So you better wake up soon or he’ll use them to wallpaper your room.” He added as a small laugh left his mouth.

He stared at the monitors, that was the only response he got. He sighed as he leaned back into the chair again, this was going to be just another day like the past ones.

But then, there was movement.

It was so silent in the room, Eddie could hear the change in ambience. (Y/n)’s fingers twitched against the blanket. The sound of her skin moving over the fabric made him stand up next to her bedside immediately.

“(Y/n)?” He breathed as he wrapped his hand around hers. Her eyelids fluttered open weakly.

“Hey, (Y/n) it’s me.” He whispered with a trembling voice. “I’m right here baby”

Her eyes opened, unfocused, but then her eyes locked on him. Confusion written all over her face, her lips parting slightly as she wanted to talk.

"Hey," he said gently, leaning closer. "You’re safe." He continued as he tried to read her face.

“Chris?” her voice barely above a whisper.

Relief was written over his face, as he couldn’t help to let out a small laugh. Of course, that was the one person she immediately thought of. She kept him safe at all costs. “He’s safe. Blake’s back where he belongs.”

Tears were pouring down his cheeks, but this time it wasn’t sadness. Pure happiness. Relieve. “Jesus, (Y/n), you scared the hell out of me."

She swallowed loudly, “Sorry..” she mumbled.

“No, no, no. Don’t apologize. Just.. don’t ever scare me like that again.” Eddie said as he squeezed her hand.

She groaned at the pain she felt in her entire body, mostly at her stomach. A small ouch, falling off her lips as she touched her stomach. “What-?” she stumbled.

“Internal bleeding, your heart stopped for like three minutes. They had to rush you into an emergency surgery,”Eddie explained.

“You stayed here?” She then asked as she scanned the room and spotted multiple bags in the room. He nodded. “Of course I did.” He said as he brushed a strand of hair from her face and pushed it behind her ear.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me (Y/n)” he told her, with a small smile on his face. She let out a breathy chuckle, barely audible but enough to make Eddie’s heart make a jump of happiness.

“I love you.” The words left her mouth weakly and slow. Eddie couldn’t help but let the smile grow bigger on his face, “Te amo, mi amor.”

[josephquinnswhore]

where you go, I go - stalker joel miller x female reader AU.

summary: joel hasn’t been the same since ex his wife abandoned him and his daughter, but he’s been watching you for months.. you’re the perfect replacement.

word count: 1.1k

content warning: extreme stalking, harassment, unhealthy infatuation, murder, brief mention of potential kidnapping, unhealthy idealism, manipulation, gaslighting.

Today was really not the day for this, your complete lack of intolerance to bullshit had reached its capacity.

But this had been happening every attempt for the past week, a relatively new and frankly.. abruptly confusing issue.

The button on your key fob for your car makes the indicators flash orange each attempt to pry the boot open. With a click or the button, it’s supposed to open the boot automatically.

But your car doesn’t do that, no. It insists on a one armed wrestling match while you have to click the button simultaneously.

Thanks to Joel, the man that has been absolutely infatuated with you for months, since you’d hired them for a minor job, just a custom order bookshelf. Not something the men would typically accept but Joel was absolutely infatuated with you.

Since then he hadn’t ever been far from where you were. Even if that meant showing up to your house at night and sabotaging apart of your car.

It’s hot out. These Texan summers were no joke and with no breeze, the beads of sweat meticulously lined upon your forehead, not one inch of it wasn’t covered in sweat.

“Come on!” With a grunt of frustration, you attempt to wrestle the boot open again, pushing it down to try and get the latch unstuck.

He watches on as you struggle with the boot of your car for the third time this week alone, how you managed to live your life without a man to take care of you was a real mystery to him.

As amusing as it is to watch you struggle, he figures he needs to approach before some other man offers a helping hand. The last thing Joel needs is to bury another goddamn prick on your behalf. You should be thanking Joel, really.

But he understands, you don’t know. You’re vulnerable, completely none the wiser to the fact that a man that mowed your lawn once a fortnight, had managed to peep through your bathroom window and caught a glance of your bare skin while you were showering.

Unaware that anyone was watching you groan again in frustration, about ready to pull your hair out. “Why the hell is this happening to me today?!”

“Excuse me, miss?” A well recognised Southern, Texan accent calls out to you with a hint of amusement and curiosity. Turning around, the man was closer than you’d expected.

“You need something?” Perhaps you were snappier than you should’ve been, and he raises a singular eyebrow at you.

“I’m sorry. I just.. need help with this. Pain in the ass. I have cold stuff and it’s hot as shit out here!” You ramble incessantly to the man who just tilts his head.

As he steps forward. “Mind if I give it a try?”

“Good luck to you—“ before you could even finish the scornful sentence the boot was open.

“How did you do that?” Disbelief wavering in your tone.

He shrugs, folding his arms over his chest, the shirt tightens and the muscles in his arms bulge. A fitting distraction to keep your eyes away from the fact that he had just sneakily attached a tracking tab onto your car. Underneath the number plate.

Now, he already knew your home address. But he had to make sure that you weren’t seeing anyone.

You were certain he had caught you staring. “These older models have a few minor issues, I learnt that working on my own truck, I suppose.”

Now that were true. But he wouldn’t really tell you the reason he knew how to fix this particular issue.

“What’s your name anyway?”

He starts packing your groceries into the now open boot, a few bags in each hand at a time.

The veins in his forearms protrude out of the skin.

“Joel. Joel Miller.”

Once he’s finished packing your groceries away, he closes the boot. “Shouldn’t have no more issues with it.”

You raise a brow. “You’re not gonna ask my name?”

He doesn’t want to, because he already knows it.

He almost laughs, almost. “What is your name, miss?”

When you reply with your name, he doesn’t at all seem phased, which was odd. “You kinda look familiar, actually.”

He keeps a calm expression, looking around the carpark as he gives a warm smile. “I live around here. Do contracting for a lot of houses around town.”

He could’ve felt his gut drop in that moment, maybe you’d figured him out. Perhaps you were about to call him out on what he’s been doing, sneaking around your goddamn house at night, sabotaging the boot so that it wouldn’t open properly.

Perhaps if that were the worst case scenario, he would just have to whack you on the head and shove you into the boot of your little car and drive you to his house. Chain you up and explain that he’s not a bad guy, he just cares for you. No one else cares for you like he does.

Thankfully, it doesn't come to that, because you’re clueless, really. It’s sad to see that you don’t protect yourself. If Joel could get away with all of this unseen. Imagine the real creeps that would take advantage of you.

Joel had been creating all of these minor issues for you, so that you would perhaps seek him out if he happened to.. by chance.. be nearby.

Come to think of it, there was a white pickup that had some sort of business name on the side of it. Been around your street a few times this week, actually. Perhaps he’s got work in the area?

Ain’t really your business to ask though.

“Yeah, I suppose. Thanks anyway, for this.. I should get home now. Don’t want all the dairy and meat to spoil.”

By now you really should be leaving.. but you feel compelled to give the helpful man your number.

“Maybe I can thank you properly one day for lending a hand.”

You quickly scribble it down on the back of your long docket and hand it to him.

“I’ll contact you,” albeit a simple response, he vows to you.

He takes the half crumpled paper with your number and nods with a warm smile, watching you as you get into your car and thank him again through the window before driving off.

A grim smile on his wicked lips as he watches the car leave the parking lot, knowing that even now, as you left, he would know where you were.

Because where you were, Joel was always following close behind. He did, after all.. think you were perfect. The missing piece of the puzzle to his family. The right woman to give his daughter a caring, loving mother. And you—would be his wife. Joel was taking all the steps necessary to ensure it.

He would have he perfect family. He would have you.

Finally, with the number in hand, he was one step closer.

[jweekgoji]

Hiiiii, I really love your Yan! Sentinel x Prime!Reader, also your SentinelxReaderxStarscream are the best as well! I am a huge fan of both works and both characters, your writings are so *chef kiss* Can I request a somewhat mix of both please? Maybe the Prime!Reader are close with Starscream and it makes Sentinel angry/jealous? Obviously you don't have to, but if you do write for it please take your time :3

Prime!Reader/Starscream/Sentinel

tw: jealousy, rivalry (between Starscream&Sentinel), gender neutral reader. word count: ~1270 a/n: good to know you enjoyed my other fics~ sorry for making you wait too long! the last weeks are exhausting ~_~

Being one of the 13 Primes is no simple task when you have to stand between two fires.

The incoming attack from the Quintessons didn't give you a single cycle of peace either. Over and over again, you've had to brainstorm a new plan with your brothers and sisters on how to push the enemy away from Cybertron. It's exhausting.

At times, you long to lock yourself away in your own chambers, switch off your audio receptors to finally get a break from it all. But luck never seems to be on your side. Every new day started with a new problem, and for some reason, you only had to hear about it from two bots you knew.

Starscream and Sentinel.

Your day could start with an early call from Starscream, where your subordinate, though not literally, hinted at having him accompany you at all times. His presence is absolutely required!

Well that's just Prime.

But when you hear a knock on your door, you don't have to guess twice to find out who it could be. When you finally open the door, standing before you is none other than your faithful servant, Sentinel.

“You look as beautiful as ever,”  Sentinel smiles as he looks in your optics. “And your armour is so wonderfully polished, as I can see.”

Starting your afternoon meeting with compliments was something he was used to, even if his attempts to charm you with his speeches never worked. You are many cycles older than him, Sentinel's behaviour only amuses you at best.

“Zeta Prime would like to discuss something with you, let me escort you to him,” he holds his servos behind his back, taking a couple of steps back from the doorway.

“Zeta wants to see me?” you have a momentary thought. In the current time, that means another long meeting, hours of planning and working out...You nod.

“After you,” he humbly motions for you to go through first, his bright blue optics just drilling your own.

As you walk through the long corridors of the tower, the loud clacking of heels comes from somewhere behind you.

“There you are! I've been waiting for you for like practically half an hour now! Where were you all the time...’ Starscream says in annoyance, his wings twitching faintly as the high guard notices...him.

For a moment, a spark of competition runs between your two subjects. Fortunately, or not for them, it never caught your attention, though perhaps you simply preferred to turn a blind eye to it. You have too many responsibilities right now to waste time on those two.

Sentinel still holds that casual pose, helmet tilted slightly, as if the mere sight of the enraged flyer gives him some kind of enjoyment. It doesn't even help that he's standing behind you, you can't even see that nasty grin on Sentinel's face! Oh, how that slimy, hypocritical glitch is annoying-.

“Not now, Starscream. I'll deal with this later. Wait for me here,’ you calmly respond, then turn around and disappear behind the doors of the hall, where the rest of the Primes are already waiting.

The door slams shut, leaving the high guard and the advisor alone. Starscream frowns, his red optics aimed at Sentinel, who looks equally displeased.

Even though Sentinel was lucky enough to see you first today, the advisor had to come up with all sorts of excuses for you to pay the slightest bit of attention to him. He's occasionally lucky because you prefer Starscream's company to his own! Or so he thinks at first. As one of the Primes, you spend a lot of time on the battlefield, which makes you more often accompanied by Starscream.

Sentinel hates that. Most of the Primes, even Zeta himself calls on him far more often than you do! He's YOUR advisor, how can you care more about some guard?

Knowing Sentinel, if you were even with him for almost all of your time, any side glance would make him extremely jealous.

“You're doing this on purpose. Wasting their time on something that isn't helpful in the war,” Starscream crosses his arms over his chassis, not even hiding his displeasure.

“Me? I would never ,” the Sentinel makes an indignant look that is painfully unserious. “I'm just a mere asvisor to them, helping out with a word here and there. Are you afraid of getting screwed, perhaps?’

“To whom, you? Don't be ridiculous,” Starscream rolls his optics, then steps closer to the Sentinel. “They hardly notice you.”

“You want to bet, Screamer?”

“Bet.”

You don't know how long it's been since you left them alone, but by the time you arrive, Starscream and Sentinel are there, waiting for you. Not a hint of hostility between them, which is surprising. Whatever had happened there during your absence, they had found another target.

After that day, you completely forgot about such a concept as “peacefulness”. Every day, personal space was violated by one of them. If Starscream insisted on accompanying your every move, Sentinel would surely find another reason to distract and then steal you away from poor jet.

It went on like this time after time until you decided to end this madness once and for all.

When Sentinel unexpectedly received your message, he was hardly strong enough not to give the slightest sign of how extremely pleased he was. You, waiting for HIM, in your chambers? Oh, how much that could mean....

How surprised he was to see none other than Starscream at the door- Oh, lovely. Just when he's fantasising about nice things, you find a chance to ruin his dreams.

Had you left them alone for a split second, another fight would surely have broken out, but luckily neither of them have time to utter a word before you suddenly open the door.

“Come in.”

Starscream and Sentinel throw each other a quick fleeting glance, but not another word and they enter your room. It's large, rich, in your style. They've rarely had the chance to be here, even for a moment.

You stand beside your desk, seated in the centre of the room. You can recall many nights spent at it, searching for solutions to Cybertron's problems. Your gaze is neutral, though inside you are far from calm.

“May I ask the reason why you decided to call me and...’’ Sentinel pauses briefly before looking at his colleague again. Starscream gives him the same look, as if daring him to make yet another annoying comment.

“Your behaviour,” you begin first again, closing your optics for a moment, trying to remain calm.

“It's all Sentinel's fault,” Starscream blurts out sharply, pointing at the blue-and-gold fur.

“Of course— stop. What?!” Sentinel exclaims, now it's his turn to be outraged.

“Incompetent, arrogant toady, he should have been removed from his position a long time ago, ” Starscream continues to recount, which can't help but cause Sentinel's optic to twitch.

“I'm talking about the both of you.”

Well, that certainly got their attention. And thankfully, so did shutting up.

No matter how tempting the idea of removing the two of them from their positions and sending them away, you can't raise your hand and dismiss them. How lucky you are that one of your brothers, while drinking high grade energon, blabbed to you about everything and gave you some wonderful idea.

“Whoever completes as many of my errands as possible during the week will receive a special reward from me.”

You pause again for a moment, watching their reactions. Both of your best subordinates look startled, but, extremely interested. For that reason, you continue.

“I expect excellent results. Don't disappoint.”

[discordiansamba]

to suki's surprise, there's someone her age here.

she hadn't expected it when she'd been sent away to the boiling rock- the fire nation's most dreaded prison. what an honor, she'd thought while rolling her eyes as princess azula tried and failed to bait her.

his name is zuko. he's from the fire nation. nobody quite knows what his actual crime was- and she's loosely defining crime here- but that he'd just turned up at the prison one day without fanfare, like they'd snuck him in overnight. he arrived with half of his face swaddled in bandages- and now, three years later, he's been left with a vicious scar.

(how did someone end up being thrown in here at thirteen? even for the fire nation, that seemed... young.)

suki likes him.

she likes the way that he still has the audacity to try and escape, even after this place has broken so many others much older than him. he spends more time than anyone else in the coolers- but despite being a firebender, he never seems bothered by them. he knows his way around the prison like the back of his hand.

he seeks her out as soon as she arrives.

"hey," he sits across from her, "-hear you're a rebel leader of some kind."

"sort of," she tells him, "-i'm the leader of the kyoshi warriors. ever heard of us?"

zuko shakes his head no- but he's willing to learn. so she tells him about kyoshi island and about the kyoshi warriors. she tells him how she ended up here- and doesn't miss the way zuko's one brow shoots up when she mentions princess azula. he huffs and says that anyone who could catch her attention like that is a friend of his.

on the day of black sun, they make an escape attempt together.

it doesn't work. they both get thrown into the cooler for their trouble. but it doesn't stop them from trying again- this time on the day of sozin's comet itself. the guards might all be firebenders- but so is zuko. this time they have a new partner in crime- chief hakoda of the southern water tribe. sokka's father.

(she's pretty sure he thinks they're both vaguely insane.)

it doesn't work either. they go back to the coolers.

then one day, fire lord iroh arrives at the prison himself. the war is over. ozai is dead. he's here to free those who shouldn't be here- starting with the prisoners of war. he begins to call out names of those who will be walking free today- and suki and hakoda are among them.

zuko isn't.

zuko isn't, until chief hakoda whispers something into the fire lord's ears- and the old man's eyes go wide. hakoda points out zuko to him, and the man stares at him like he's seen a ghost.

"...nephew?"

(what.)

another boiling rock au idea is an au where instead of being banished, ozai sends zuko to the boiling rock after his agni kai and claims the prince died in the night due to an infection. by the time zuko's aware of what's going on around him, he's already confined to a cell at the boiling rock. his father doesn't want him. he's a shame to his nation. he doesn't think he can get any lower.

or: zuko grows up at the boiling rock.

very few people there even know that he's the former crown prince, but what they do see is a thirteen year old kid with half his head swathed in bandages, his hair freshly shorn, who has been thrown into the highest security prison in the fire nation. which is pretty fucked up!! zuko goes from pampered prince fed only propaganda all his life, to being surrounded by war prisoners and other assorted political prisoners- as well as just your run of the mill convicts.

it's an eye-opening experience, to say the least!

(zuko's escape attempts are like, a once every two month occurrence. none of them ever work, but he's gotten father than anyone else ever has. this is because no one else is as insane as the kid who was basically raised for part of his life here.)

years later, when the war is over and iroh is sitting on the fire lord's throne, he begins the long process of freeing the countless prisoners of war that the fire nation has imprisoned- as well as the political prisoners. it's a long process- and he decides to begin with the boiling rock, where he knows the chief of the southern water tribe was sent after the failed invasion.

there's no records of zuko at the boiling rock, of course.

or: iroh finds out that his nephew isn't dead. he's been at the boiling rock this entire time. suddenly the fire nation has an heir apparent.

(zuko returns to the caldera for the first time in years, very much not the same person he was when he left- and is unsure how much he can actually trust his uncle.)

[adobealmanac]

Consecration and protection of the home

During the fall and winter, often at campfires or near the fireplace, stories of the paranormal and the unexplained are shared. These stories often center around the places that are closest to us, such as a family home, a favorite campsite, or a commonly traveled dirt road. Many people are hesitant to speak of these events, however, they often feel safe or encouraged to share them over a late-night cup of hot cocoa and s'mores.

Scary stories often get me jittery, and one thing that provides me comfort is protecting the home from stirred-up spirits and negative energies. Creating the home into a refuge is vital to the spiritual health of the home overall. While there are many ways and traditions regarding protecting the home, I will share two methods that I find the most useful.

Method 1 - Salt and Pepper Protection Ritual

Begin by cleansing your home with the method of your choosing. My go-to for this method is mopping the floors with a cleaner like pine-sol as it cleanses the entirety of the floors, which is important for this method.

Then, open all of the exterior doors. Using a broom sweep outwards over all of the thresholds. As you do this, command any unwanted energies to leave by repeating "I command ALL energies that do not serve me, that do not have good intentions, and that take away from the spirit of this home to LEAVE. You are NO LONGER welcome HERE. As I sweep, you EXIT."

Once that is done, it is time to prepare your herbs and ingredients. I use table salt mixed with rosemary, ceremonial tobacco, sun-charged beer, whiskey, or gin, and whole peppercorns. If you do not have authentic ceremonial tobacco, use the alcohol in its place. I was gifted my tobacco by a dear friend and mentor of mine who comes from that practice and cultural background. If you want to use tobacco as I do, I suggest you seek out a mentor yourself to learn about the practice. Once you have these items prepared and at hand, you may move on to the next step.

Begin by going to the exterior of your home. Using your charged alcohol, begin to offer it to the earth. If you have tobacco, offer that to the earth as you were taught to. I always give thanks to the wonderful space I occupy and am a steward of, and acknowledge that this land is older than I am and that it is my elder. I complete my offering by kneeling and touching my forehead to the earth, being sure to give profound thanks.

Now, locate the four primary external corners of your home. If your space has more than four sides or is oddly shaped, form a square around the space that wholly encompasses it. This may be represented as the fence around your property, or the outside corners of your apartment building. Beginning at the northernmost corner, pour a small mound of the salt mixture into a small dish in front of the corner, and say "As this salt is placed here today, it marks the beginning of its service to this home. It will fortify, protect, and create sanctuary here. It will blow away with the wind once its protective powers are used up." Then, soak the mound of salt in the alcohol. Repeat the above steps for the remaining three corners, going to the east, then the south, and conclude to the west.

Now, enter your home. Locate every external corner of your home and place four whole peppercorns at the base of each one. Try to tuck them in as best as you can so they are unintrusive and remain mostly undisturbed. Wet each pile with your charged alcohol and ask the pepper for its protection.

Once the above steps are complete, store the remaining alcohol and periodically pour it onto the peppercorns and salt to recharge them. If you see that the dishes of salt are low, refill them with the salt mixture.

Method 2 - Miraculous Soil Protection Ritual

This protection typically requires the 'holy' dirt from Chimayo. If this is inaccessible for you, you may be able to request some to be sent to you by the church. If you prefer not to I will teach you to make your own substitute.

To make a suitable substitute first you must locate some seemingly dry or infertile land such as cracked dirt from a drought. Now, look for signs of life in the dirt. Look for a small plant that is somehow defying the odds, or miraculously continuing to thrive in such harsh environments. Once you find a spot of soil with life, collect a cup full and leave the rest for the earth. Thank it by offering it water. Water the plant and tend to it; help it succeed at life. Then pray over a handful of table salt the following prayer:

Being of the earth. In the name of the ineffable God, and by the power of the tetragrammaton, be you consecrated in the service of the most high. Imbew this salt with the powers to protect this house and everything and everyone in it from all evil. Ometeo.

Once complete, wet the salt with distilled water and mix it into the cup of dirt. Allow it to thoroughly dry before use.

Once you acquire or make holy dirt, head to the front of your home with a small dish filled with the dirt. Begin to sprinkle it along the threshold of your door and ask for protection. State that no negativity may pass the sacred soil.

Then, sprinkle the dirt around the perimeter of the front facade of your house. Do not use too much. You should not be able to physically see the dirt. Then place the dirt on top of any plants near your front door. If there are none, consider planting a chile pepper bush for protection. Rosemary is another good option, along with juniper.

Now, repeat the above steps for any walls containing an external door. If there are none place the dirt at each corner. If there is another wall, do not place it at the corners, as it is not needed.

Once completed, pour a glass of water out from the inside of each external door while standing within it. As you do this say "As I pour this water it washes away all remaining evil. It may no longer reside here."

Protecting the home is a vital step to protecting those who reside within it. These methods are my two personal go-to methods for every home I inhabit, and I hope that you find use in these methods. Be sure to execute physical safety too, as that is equally if not more important than spiritual safety. Be sure to continue to regularly cleanse your home too, as you do not want negativity to fester within the home itself.

[the-autistic-spider]

Red Hood wasn't sure what happened,

one moment he was on patrol like the usual avoiding the manor and all the bats because he's turning 26 today and does Not want to talk. he's heading back to the iceberg lounge to make sure penguin was still locked behind the tank... and alive. (less so on the latter)

but the next thing he knew he's slammed into the ground, disoriented as the rain fall is gone? he checks himself over. Realizing he has bruised or broken ribs he looks around and see's that somehow he has ended up outside the titans tower at least that could explain the lack of rain but.. that's not the weirdest thing of this moment?

"oh Fuck is that..." he can see himself? (it could be a copycat but they must be behind on info he's not worn that red bucket for a long time) the copy has broken into the tower and with moments hesitation Red Hood runs after them and grapples into the building from the whole the copy made

but as he enters he he feels that this scene is oddly familiar but doesn't have time to question it as Tim is getting his shit beaten by his own bo-staff.

with some quick thinking Red Hood calls out "hey Bucket head get your own look!" with the distraction working he pounces towards the copy slamming him back, he turns to Tim "Get the Fuck out here!"

before being tackled by the copy who's mask is cracked

Red hood flips him on his side going for dirty shots but ends up thrown over the counter top

with only moment hesitation Red hood grabs a plate and leaps off the countertop slamming it down shattering the copy's mask and lifting the copy by the throat-

no.. no no No NO NO!

how the Fuck Do They Have His Face!

the realisation dawns on him as the copy-no he's not a copy as- Jason 16 year old Jason Todd passes out from choked by his drenched older self

jason drops him and falls back onto the ground

[uhhlifeig]

Quidditch Pitch - Nov. 27 - word count: 710 - @wolfstarmicrofic

The Gryffindor stands were buzzing with energy as the players zoomed onto the Quidditch pitch. 

Up in the commentator’s box, Remus Lupin adjusted the enchanted microphone and smiled. “Welcome to today’s match: Gryffindor versus Slytherin!” His voice echoed over the stadium. “Let’s hope no one dies today, yeah?”

McGonagall was shaking her head exasperatedly beside him.

Remus sighed. The introductions were always the most boring part. “On the Gryffindor side, we have Alex Brown, Mackenzie Glen, and James Potter, Chasers. Our Beaters are Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon, and Cassidy West and Noah Logsden as Keeper and Seeker respectively.”

Sirius tilted his broom in a mock bow towards the dirty blonde when Remus said his name.

“On the Slytherin side,” the werewolf continued, “we have Dorcas Meadowes, Mark Sanders, and Darcy Avery as Chasers, Kim Johnson and Carmilla Rivers as Beaters, Jackson Mulciber as Keeper, and their Seeker is Regulus Black. Yes, another Black! Because one wasn’t enough, apparently.”

Regulus scowled at the commentary box, adjusting his gloves.

“And they’re off!” Remus announced as Madam Hooch blew her whistle. The players soared into the air, James immediately snatching the Quaffle.

“Potter has the Quaffle- shockingly, not his biggest achievement today. He managed to  not fall on his face this morning, folks. It’s a miracle.”

James threw him a dirty look as he dodged a Bludger.

“Oh, McKinnon with a fantastic hit! That’s right, show them how Gryffindor Beaters roll.”

Meanwhile, Regulus darted across the pitch. Remus just managed to catch a glimpse of his face before he flew away.

“And there’s the younger Black giving us all a masterclass on brooding while flying. A true Slytherin strategy- if they can’t win, they’ll look better losing.”

James shot toward the goalposts, weaving through the Slytherin defense with Sirius taking out anyone who got too close.

“Potter goes for it- he shoots, he scores!” Remus cheered. “Look at him. So proud of himself. That’s Gryffindor ten, Slytherin zero!”

A few moments passed without any excitement- until a well-aimed Bludger from Sirius sent the Quaffle spiraling out of a Slytherin’s grasp. James dove to intercept.

“Look at older Black and McKinnon proving that teamwork makes the dream work! And Potter- oh, look at that catch! Someone’s showing off.”

Remus watched as Sirius and Regulus crossed paths mid-air, gazes locking briefly before the younger flew away in search of the Snitch.

“And there’s the Black brothers, sharing a tender sibling moment,” the werewolf drawled. “Truly touching. Almost makes you forget they’re trying to knock each other out of the sky.”

James’s next pass was intercepted by a Slytherin Chaser, who charged toward the Gryffindor goalposts.

“Finally, some action from Slytherin! And there goes West, looking vaguely concerned. Can she- oh, no, she can’t. Goal for Slytherin. It’s ten-all, folks!”

A Bludger shot past his friend by mere inches, Sirius swerving out of the way when he saw it hurtling at him. Remus breathed out a breath of relief, announcing, “Sirius Black narrowly avoids a Bludger! Shocking reflexes from a man who tripped over his own feet this morning.”

A cheer sounded as Marlene sent Carmilla reeling with a Bludger to the shoulder.

“McKinnon, good job,” Remus said, his grin audible. “Show those Slytherins who’s boss around here.”

Eventually, Regulus dove for the ground, looking as if he had spotted the Snitch. Noah followed him, but the moment he realized it was a feint, he swerved upwards.

“And Baby Black pulls a Wronski Feint! Probably trying to pull more than that today, if you know what I mean,” Remus remarked with a sly tone.

Despite the chaos, the match pressed on.

“And that’s Potter with another goal- I think his ego is taking over, folks.”

Noah suddenly shot forwards, having spotted the Snitch. Regulus tailed him, but the Gryffindor grabbed it a millisecond before the younger Black brother would have, cinching a win.

Remus leaned back in his chair, smiling. “And that’s the game, folks! Gryffindor takes it, thanks to teamwork, skill, and, let’s face it, sheer dumb luck. Better luck next time, Slytherin. ”

He started a timer in his mind. One, two, three…

Sirius flew right in front of the commentary box, grinning broadly. “I guess that good luck kiss really did work, Moony.”

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Coming To An Understanding #11

Another (and I think for this little series, penultimate) little instalment.

Short, but hopefully sweet enough.

*~*

“What is wrong with you today?” asks Barbara as Melissa drops down into her chair at their shared table.  The older woman has already watched her friend spill the contents of her handbag, smash her favourite mug and drop her phone in the sink in the clean up that followed.

The red head sighs.  “I just didn’t sleep so well.”

At this, the older woman frowns, her eyes flitting over her friend in search of signs that she was unwell but coming up with nothing.  “Everything okay?”

Melissa shrugs.  “Just couldn’t settle.”

“Morning!”

The kindergarten teacher looks up as you enter the room, a smile on your face and a tray of coffees and bag of pastries in hand.  She returns the smile as you take your usual seat at the table next to Melissa, leaning in to bump your shoulder against hers before setting about dishing out the coffees and treats.  “Thank you, dear.”

“I figured I was passing anyway and you guys liked the pastries from there before,” you shrug.  “And you gotta find some way to brighten up a Monday.”

Barb smiles as she watches Melissa cup her hands around the coffee you have placed in front of her, a familiar sparkle returning to her green eyes as she subtly shifts in her seat until she’s close enough to lean her head on your shoulder, painted lips curling into a contended smile.  That’s when Barb realises; you had been away for a friend’s birthday.  Melissa hadn’t seen you all weekend and that’s why she’s been unable to settle.

Yes, it was important to find a way to brighten up a Monday. 

[pinkcaraz]

ok short summary of things taylor talked about during his just chatting portion of the stream (11/27/24). i definitely missed some stuff bc his stream was super quiet and i was doing other stuff but yea i summarized most of the points. also i left out a few parts about details on league since i didn't rly think anyone would care that much about it LOL.

taylor got home 5 days ago, had training today, will probs start hitting tmr, said he should have maybe taken more days off

he saw the novandy news, said it'll be super nice to have andy back and that he was def not expecting it

he hasn't finished arcane yet, he's waiting for morgan to watch it together

he bought a custom (?) cloud pendant (i think from an anime i'm not sure) for a chain

talking about watching faker at worlds and how insane it is bc he could see his screen and see that he was tabbing around watching all the different perspectives

wants caedrel to coach him LOL told chat to spam him to coach him in league

scuffed stream 😭 he's fumbling w his mic and facecam

he said hes former top 100 NA fifa player, said team italy should have invited them so he could smoke them at fifa LMAO

got asked why does he take off left shoe during breaks? theres a spot that hurts when he slides around so taking his shoe off to let it chill helps relieve the pain

jealous of jannik and iga for being able to slide into backhands (he was more specific about the type of shot but i missed it)

bragging about his win rate in league (again)

talking about frances' serve time violations in shanghai thought the first 2 calls of time violation were bs, but def thought the one where he faked the ball toss was valid

said he'd answer controversial tennis questions LOL

got asked why sour cream and guac? bc he doesn't like spicy that much

london airbnb incident - they booked the airbnb the day before they got there, he thought the people trying to rob the airbnb probs thought they weren't there, morgan noticed sketchy people walking up to the door in the middle of the night, he tried to bolt the door but there wasn't a bolt so he held it shut w his body, he had his racket w him and said he would have hit the intruders w a slice forehand if they got in LMAO

thoughts on racket smashing - thinks it's entertaining, ok if not putting others in danger/at risk, thinks it's entertaining for people/fans to see, somewhat humanizing effect on the player, not healthy to keep anger in, don't do it on grass tho bc it ruins the court

talking about his match v daniil - thought that one game was funny but didn't think he was intentionally throwing the match

tommy and frances playing mind games by overcomplimenting their opponent (thinking about the laver cup fed '05 moment)

hits ohbhs in practice sometimes bc he thinks his "one-y" is unbelievable, rule is he's allowed to hit it until he hits a bad one then goes back to normal

any profits he gets from the stream will go to charity ! he's interested in donating to things that help kids

players don't pay for hotels while they're in tournaments but pay for everything else

thinks michael (his coach) should def win best coach, sportsmanship award will probs go to carlos or casper

thinks most improved award should consider older players more like draper, popyrin, musetti, himself, also jasmine paolini, etc. bc it's more impressive when older players improve compared to younger guys who have more time - for ex, gmp improved a lot this yr in ranking bc he was alrdy good and finally got time to actually play to raise his ranking

preference on armstrong vs ashe - more of a preference about which times to play, armstrong has better times for him

can go through like 5 pairs of shoes during a hard court major bc of all the sliding around

said he heard a lot of positive feedback about the wta finals from the players - players were taken care of well, knows that the previous wta finals tournaments have been rough

was gonna go to usc for college if he went to college, he verbally committed to usc, but didn't really plan on going to college

taylor bought and had flowers sent to morgan in LA

said watching worlds was super sick and he thought the opening ceremony was amazing, gumayushi's pose went hard

he doesn't save vods bc he doesn't want people to clip stuff and pull stuff he said, said he feels it allows him to be more authentic on stream

slkjhfajkf he talked about the liking a homophobic tweet on accident and said he freaked out bc he was having a chill no phone day and when he went to check socmed he was like "omg i'm canceled" IM DEAD

favorite league character to play rn is viego, he wins a lot of games on him

thinks the tennis calendar should def be shorter