#sorry i took so long to respond! i've been exhausted for a few days so i was waiting until i was awake enough

[the-universal-sun]

in NEED of some sad little stan with ford comforting him.. maybe him telling ford about his past being homeless and regressing from talking about the memories

Thank you for the request and very sorry it took so long to get to it, I hope you're still here to read it! I enjoyed writing it very much, even if Stan doesn't regress until about halfway down. I do have some drabbles in the works that are lil' stan all the way through though...Enough about that, thank you again for the request, I hope it lives up to your expectations! I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! It was a good prompt and I thank you again, Anon, for the ask! Sorry if the tone seems to flip flop around, I took a long break to finish up some chores when writing this.

As always, I'm open to helpful comments and advice, please enjoy!

TW: Stan talks a little about his time in the back of a trunk, but it's essentially just Stan describing his feelings and dropping when telling Ford. If you want to void that paragraph, it starts at "It was about the time I spent in Mexico" and ends at "get his words out without blubbering. "

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It was a rough night for Stan. There was a storm going on out on the water and the violent rocking of the Stan O' War made him stumble and burn his tongue on the still hot stew was made, then he just couldn't find the right position to sleep in, his back hurting on his side, his front, when he was laying back on his orthopedic pillow, nothing was right. And when he did finally manage to get to sleep, nightmares and memories he wishes stayed forgotten clawed at his mind all night, finally jerking him awake too early in the morning for anyone to function. Anyone but Ford, that is, who seemed well rested and eager to start the day. Stan swears his brother was whistling a tune while he made coffee he was just that damn chipper. Stan wasn't. He wanted to sleep, but he knows even if he could, nightmares would find their way back in, and he cannot deal with those right now, not with how close he was to dropping and regressing-which he honestly wasn't in the mood for right now, his body and mind to anxious and exhausted to focus on that allure. Instead, he just grunted when Ford asked him about how he slept. And he only gave short one word answers throughout the day, his mood souring further and further as the humid sun beat down on them. He thought he was doing well in hiding it from Ford until, around late afternoon, his brother turns to him, arms crossed and an expression that was identical to their mother's when she got annoyed with their attitudes, and demanded an explanation.

"Stanley, what is the matter with you today? You've been crochety and grumpy all day, and it's starting to get on my nerves." He stands there, waiting for Stan to respond. Jesus, can't Stan have a bad day without it being turned into a big deal? He heaves a sigh after a few moments, not wanting to get into an argument with the way he's feeling.

" 'S nothing, Stanford, just had a rough time getting to sleep, s'all. Nothing for you to worry about." He shrugs, trying to keep it casual and not alert his brother to just why he had a hard time sleeping. Stan hopes he'll drop and they can go back to setting up fishing lines. Stan doesn't think he can keep a good grip on his pole today, so he's got the rail grip out for it. He just wants to sit back and relax and not think about bad dreams and phantom body aches.

"Hard time sleeping? Was it the storm, Stanley? It was pretty rough last night, but it ended around 2 am and I've seen you sleep through rougher. Though I do recall hearing you complain and grumble about your back periodically throughout the night..." Stan, knowing his brother will reach some sort of conclusion on his own, whether accurate or not, just sighs again and starts putting up their fishing gear. Once Stanford got started, it took a while for him to finish, and once he comes to his conclusion, whatever it is, he's going to insist Stan go and get some rest or, god forbid, talk about it. Yeesh, just thinking about it made his whole body cringe. He's finished packing everything up and is halfway to the door back inside before Ford pipes up with his conclusion as to what Stan's problem was.

"You had a nightmare! Probably of a memory that just came back to you! Why didn't I see it before! You're always in a dour mood when you have a memory come to you in this form, it should've been my first thought, really! I was too absorbed in writing down my latest findings...that...I..." Ford stops, wincing at the sight of Stanley's blank stare from the doorway, eyebrow raised. Stan only rolls his eyes up, earning another wince, before he gestures to the open door. If they're going to have an emotional talk, Stan would rather do it in air conditioning. He leaves the box of fishing gear by the door and heads to their room, he'll need the comfort of his teddy bear if Ford's going to make him talk about his nightmare. And trust him, Ford will make him talk, probably by sheer annoyance and pestering. He grabs his Teddy and heads to the kitchen, bypassing Ford loitering in the door way and ignoring the stare aimed at him. He doesn't need to feel like he's going to regress to have Poindexter, the stuffed toy has been a comfort for him since he was 19, and it's still one now, no matter his headspace. He settles in the kitchen, grabbing a diet Pitt Cola, more for something to do with his hands and mouth than desire to drink it. He adverts his eyes when Stanford settles down in front of him, staring silently.

"Stanley, you know we need to talk about this, if it was a memory, it needs to go in one of your memory books, just in case you have a lapse. You also need to talk about it for your own mental health, you know what Mabel says, bottling your emotions will only lead to explosions." Stan loves his great-niece, he truly does, but she was all on abord with his brother when he got into his "caring about peoples (Stanley's) emotions and helping them with their mental health." phase, which is seeming less like a phase every day.

"Yeah I had a nightmare, it was about an incident during a drifter days. It was sucky and I hated it, and I'll write it down in the Bad Memory journal later. There, we talked about it, I'll go rest now. We done?" Stan starts to get up from the small table.

"No we are not done! You actually have to talk about it, Stanley, share the details of your nightmare with me. And I know you won't write it down! So we are going to sit here and you are going to talk. And trust me, I can play the waiting game. I can play it all day." Dang it, Ford's stern about this, and Stan knows he means it, waiting for him to talk. He's done it before, they sat there from sun rise to almost sun set before Stan gave in and talked. He sighs, cracking open the soda and setting his bear next to him at the table, talking more to it than to Ford, not wanting to see the disappointment in his eyes. He takes a while to gather his thoughts, to think about the best way to get through this. He grabs his teddy with his free hand, just to hold and pet so his nerves can calm down.

"It was about the time I spent in Mexico, there was an-uh-incident and," Stan blows some air out of his mouth, wondering why it was so hard to talk about this particular memory with Ford. "I had to chew my way out of a trunk." He still refuses to look at him, staring down at Poindexter, his worn but well loved Teddy who's been with him through everything. Stan's amazed he's never lost the poor thing, with how many times he's been on the run and in jail-thankfully they keep the stuff you had when you went in and kept your car impounded if you were in for less than 3 years, so no one was able to throw him away. He keeps his grip on Poindexter tight as he talks about his nightmare, how terrified he felt and how he truly believed, for the first time in his life, he was going to die. He recounts the experience, and not without a few barbs and poor tasting jokes, going from holding Poindexter to hugging him tightly, needing his comfort. Stan can feel his headspace creeping up on him, already so close to dropping and getting even closer to it the more he talks. He doesn't even realize he's started rocking until he knocks into the table, startling him into silence until Stanford quietly urges for him to continue talking about his nightmare, his brother writing down his words in a memory journal. Stan starts slipping further and further as he gets to the part where had to chew through the harsh metal of a car trunk, he can feel the tears sting his eyes, but he can't worry about them, too focused on being able to get his words out without blubbering.

He finishes telling Stanford about his nightmare, was it really a nightmare if it was a memory of his, with a joke about his dentures. Stan doesn't know if it didn't land because of the situation or because it was actually bad, he's still refusing to look at Ford, burying his face in Poindexter's fur, feeling so close to dropping, he's teetering over the edge, and so upset about his nightmare. He wishes he never remembered that situation, he could've gone the rest of his life clueless and he would have preferred that. He flinches when he hears Ford get up and sit next to him, is he going to tell Stan what a disappointment he was for getting mixed up in such a bad crowd? Will he sigh and say he should've taken better care of himself? Stan doesn't know, and he's scared to find out.

"Oh, Lee," Ford sighs next to him, a six-fingered hand curling through the strands at the back of Stan's neck, his gentle touches breaking away the last of the dam holding back his tears and pushing him over that edge. He curls into Sixer, clutching his sweater and sobbing, sobbing over how scared he was, how scared he still is, the nightmare's affects lingering throughout the day. He never wants to think about that moment ever again. Stan's finding it hard to breathe his how hard he's crying, coughing harshly every couple of minutes. His brother slaps his back to dislodge his coughs, rocking Stan's body with his own. He sniffles, wiping his face on Sixer's chest, and wraps his arms around him, making their rocking go faster. Stan likes it when his brother rocks him, it's better than his rocking, it calms him down way faster, too. They just rock together for what feels like eternity, he's stopped crying at some point, but he still clutches Sixer, enjoying the touch and the sensations, the nice a comfy warmth he brings. His brother always knows how to chase away his scary feelings and thoughts, he really loves Ford.

Stan panics when he feels Ford pull away, clutching at his sweater and whining, he's so scared he's going to leave him again, Stan doesn't want to be alone, he wants his big brother to hold him and rock him!

"Lee, it's alright, I'm just getting a warm cloth to wipe your face, alright?" Stan just blinks at Ford, not really understanding what he said. He just stands when his twin stands, he doesn't want to be alone, he has to follow Sixer. Stan holds his hand as tight as he can and follows Ford to the bathroom, he cries when the lights get turned on, they hurt his eyes, they're too bright! He flicks them off, rubbing his eyes, they sting and burn even more now. Stan just wants to go and get out of these itchy clothes and cuddle Poindexter, but Ford's got to be in the bathroom for some reason, which means Stan does too, even though he doesn't have to go potty now. He flinches when the cloth touches his face, it's got but it does feel good, Stan hums and lets his brother pat his face with it, lightly rocking on his feet and clutching his stuffy to his chest.

"There we are, the hot water might help soothe some of the irritation in your eyes from crying, but if your eyes start to swell, I've got an ice pack in the freezer if you're amenable to that." Stan doesn't know what Sixer's talking about, his head's too fuzzy to pay attention to all the details and the big words his brother's using. He hums again as Ford smooths his hair back, he loves it when his hair's played with, it makes his body feel just like jelly-or is it jam that jiggles and falls down? Stan doesn't know, but he smiles at Sixer, he's still rocking away, but it feels nice to do, it's a nice rocking, a happy rocking, not a bad and tight tummy rocking. His brother looks, now that his glasses are back on, sad and all frowny, and Stan doesn't like that, so he lets Poindexter hug him, that's sure to cheer him up. Poindexter's hugs always cheer Stan up, why wouldn't they work on Ford.

"A-ah, thank you, Lee and Poindexter, for the hug. I appreciate it very-um very much." Ford rubs the back on his neck, giving the toy a hand armed hug and hesitant tap on it's "back", still unsure about hugging a stuffed animal.

His brother always looks so awkward when he hugs his stuffies, but, and Stan gives him a big hug, too, he looks happier than before, so Stan was right, as always, his friends hugs cheered up Sixer! His brother is the one grabbing his hand this time, walking them to the bedroom, Stan swinging their joined hands together between them for the short walk. "Lee, how about you go pick out some comfortable clothes while I fix the bed up. I'll help you get dressed when you've got them picked out, yes?" Stan understood enough of that to know that Sixer wants him to get some jammies out, he already knows which ones he's going to pick, his absolute favorite pair. He nods and gives a little salute, giggling when Ford tickles his chin, moving his face to escape the tickling but the hand keeps following him until he pushes it away, wanting to get changed. He watched his brother go to his bed, staring at it for some reason, before he goes to his dresser and pulls out his Special Jammy Drawer, the words capitalized to show how special and important this drawer is; it had all his fun and comfy pajamas and socks. Stan doesn't even need to look for his jammies, his favorite pair is right on top. It's a pair of fuzzy brown footies and it has a hood, but even better than the hood is the ears and tail on it, they look like a bears! Now he matches with Poindexter when he's got them on, that's why they're his favorite! Sixer always gets a kick out of it when he roars and rolls around on these, too.

"Have you got your clothes out yet, Lee? I've got the bed all fixed up with your special blankets and special pillows on it. I've even laid out a heating pad, it should be warm enough to feel once you've gotten dressed." Oh boy, Stan's special blankies are his favorites, and he gets a heating pad! He's got an achy back, so he sometimes needs a heating pad if it gets real bad, his special pillows are for his back and neck, too-Sixer likes to say something about "proper support" but Stan just likes how it makes his body feel like he's a giant laying on hills. But his blankets he can't rest without. One is a giant and heavy blankie with dinos on it, but the other is his tip top absolute favorite. It's a big and warm quilt with so many different patches and patterns-Stan added some teddy bears to it himself and they only made it look better-and some nice old lady gave it to him when he was really cold at a shelter once, it was just before he got Poindexter, which means it's also been with him forever and ever and he doesn't know what he'd do without it.

Stan's snapped out of his thought when his brother takes Poindexter out of his arms, Stan cries out and tries to follow him but calms down when Sixer puts him on the bed, right, he needs to get dressed and can't hold his friend to do that. "Steady now, Lee. Hold on to me." Ford always helps him get dressed, scared he'll fall and hurt himself, it's only ever happened one (or thrice or five times), but Stan likes it, it gives him a warm gooey feeling in his chest and tummy, he likes that his big brother wants to take care of him and soothe his ouchies when he gets hurt from falling. "Step in one leg at a time, Lee, we don't want to fall. Left leg in, perfect. Right leg now." Ford's voice is soft, so are his movements, he gently holds and guides Stan, helping him step in the legs of his jammies and threading his hand through the sleeves, zipping him up almost all the way but not to the top, Stan doesn't like things zipped up or buttoned up all the way, it makes it hard to swallow. "There we go," His hood is flipped up, the bear ears sticking out, "one Big Bear ready to lay down and rest easy." Stan does a little "roar" and makes claws with his hands, but he doesn't think it scares Sixer, his brother just laughs and rubs his head, which makes him pout before a tummy poke brings out his ticklish giggles.

"Alright, lets get tucked in to bed now. Ah-" Ford tuts at Stans returning pout, tapping his lips to usher it away, "You don't have to sleep, Lee, but I just want you to lay down in the quiet, okay?" Stan can do laying down, maybe not quiet, but he can 100% lay down in a comfy bed surrounded by Sixer and Poindexter and his blankies. "Perfect, let's get your glasses...alright, let's get you settled, Lee." As Ford tucks him and Poindexter in, Stan wonders if Ford will get in with him if he asked. Is Ford going to stay with Stan? The thought of Ford leaving makes him whimper, clutching his brother's sleeve. He can't leave, Stan needs him here with him! To protect him from any scary dreams or memories or monsters!

"Lee!? What is it what's wrong?" Ford panics, thinking something, another memory perhaps, caused Stanley's panic. His face crumples when all he gets his a whispered and broken "stay" and teary whines, did Stanley think he would leave? After what his memory was about? He gets on his knees, the joints cracking, before he speaks:

"Oh, Lee, I'm not going to leave you. I'm going to stay right here by your side, I always will be by your side, for the rest of our lives. So please, don't cry, I'm not going anywhere." He rests his forehead against Stanley's, one hand holding his, the other grabbing the pacifier he laid on the side table, bringing it up to his brother's mouth-which immediately latched on and began to chew, the repetitive movement obviously soothing, his body goes lax soon after.

Sixer said he'd stay, he always says that and he always stays, so Stan settles back down, chewing on his pacifier and hugging Poindexter, and lets his brother finish tucking him in, the blankets tights around him, the pressure is soothing. He keeps his head turned to face his brother, needing to see him, to make sure he's really going to stay, snuffling when his hair gets soothed back, the hand resting on the top on his head. Stan doesn't feel tired, not sleepy tired at least, but it feels nice to let his body relax against his bed and brother, just letting himself float in his fuzzy headed feelings, not really thinking of anything, just existing.

It felt nice.

[lookinghalfacorpse]

Speaking of Em, Idk if I've already sent an ask about this(so sorry if I have!) but I've been wondering, how did Techno exactly find Em? Like iirc then it was mentioned in itwall that techno found her pregnant in the forest, but besides that I don't think anything else was said. What was her life like before? Did she have any previous owners? Was she a wild wolf? How did Techno end up finding her? Like I'm curious to know the Em lore

patience is a skill em learned through many different lessons. life didn't let her move forward without it. if you could ask her (and if she could respond. remember that she's just a dog, after all), she would say that nothing good comes out of rushing things.

motherhood was her first teacher. being a wild dog, she bore puppies for her pack a few times, and putting up with pups requires a calm and thoughtful mind. before her pups could be great warriors and hunters, they had to be stumbling younglings. they had to dig their sharp baby teeth into her breast for their milk. they had to play-bite her ears and tails before they could bite the neck of a deer. they had to learn, often the hard way, that porcupine quills would pierce their noses. and if they survived that trial-and-error period, they would grow into powerful pack members, and she could teach them what it meant to fight and hunt and protect.

she was traveling through the arctic forest with her pack at the end of the spring season. they followed the migration of the deer throughout the harsh weather, and the travel wasn't easy. em's litter from the prior year was old enough to handle the heavy snow, though she still kept an eye on them. her belly swelled with the familiar weight of pregnancy.

but the snow hid traps beneath them. with an explosive snap, a bear trap closed on her front left leg.

injury was her second teacher. the pack had to abandon her where she bled. she watched her babies turn their rears to her, defeated, their pawprints trailing into the distance. she expected to die there. a day or two passed. she was collapsed with exhaustion in the snow when a large, not-quite-human creature plucked her from the ground and carried her to a human shelter. this creature was furred, like she was, and had a long snout like some of her prey, but spoke with a human tongue. a second human took the metal from her leg, and she flailed and bit at him. but they had a pack, too, and she bonded with the new dogs quickly.

she limped for months. they gave her an enclosed pen for her to go into labor, and she taught them-- just like all her pups before them-- to be great warriors.

war was her third teacher. human war was nothing like the occasional brawl over territory that she knew in her past life. she watched fire spread like floods, shelters collapse like hollow trees. she watched humans swing sharp tools at each other-- they rarely ever used tooth and claw. but sometimes they did. it was a violence she'd never known. but with patience, she learned it.

[phosphorescentspaceman]

A note accompanies the now destroyed disc.

“The worst, deadliest, most monstrous creature you can find - trap it, cage it. Leave it completely alone with only its thoughts and its prison.

Send it right to me, Xephos.”

Xephos' hands grip the note so tightly Barry is shocked the paper hasn't torn. The red marker across the page is easy to read, even as the note trembles with Xephos' own fear. He can feel Lalna fretting behind him, unused to being the source of distress, unsure what he'd done to provoke the reaction.

"What -" He cringes guiltily at Xephos' flinch, but the other man is at least looking at him now. "Do you - do you know what it's talking about?" Xephos looks at him blankly. It made something in his chest twist uncomfortably. "The monster?"

Oh. Oh no. Barry missed the blank look.

It was a lot better than this.

Lalna made a distressed noise behind him, a movement towards Xephos aborted half way through as the flinch rolled through his body like a blow. He was smiling, bitter and scared and guilty and Barry was missing something because why on earth was he so scared of Lalna?

"Me."

The word ripped through Lalna and Barry like a bullet, deafening for how quietly it was spoken.

"He's talking about me."

[hughjackmansbicep]

The Seamstress

Contains: Logan Howlett X F!Reader

Summary: Youre a seamstress and he seems to have an endless supply of holey clothes....

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: None :D

a/n: haiiiiii ive always loved this trope in fics !!! tehe!! srry for not writing much recently i got fired from my job LOL anywayssss... i was listening to the smiths writing this unrelated but related.

Most days bled together, the same mundane routine playing out in front of you each day. Wake up, go to work, go home, eat takeout, and pass out to some soap opera. Currently, the highlight of your life was finding out what was going to happen next on The Days of Our Lives. You were a seamstress in the middle of Manhattan; you owned a small shop off 64th, and although you were living out your dream, nothing excited you anymore. Every task felt exhausting; you couldn't even find passion in sewing anymore. That was until he stumbled into your shop.

“Hi, yeah, I was wondering if you'd be able to sew this up for me.” He grumbled, holding up what appeared to be some yellow and blue jumpsuit. You'd almost forgotten to respond, completely captivated by his sheer beauty. His gorgeous face, chiseled body, kitty-like hair, and you can't forget the unusual yet totally working for him mutton chops. “U-um, ahem, yeah, I totally could.” You manage to choke out, reaching for the clothing item. “How long do you reckon it'll take?” You examine the clothing carefully; it's decorated with rips and holes everywhere. He's lucky if I can get this finished by the end of the week, “Tomorrow.” Your mouth moves quicker than your brain can. “Cool, I'll come by at 10? Is that alright?” He asks, slowly backing out of the shop, his eyes never leaving you. ‘10am? I can't begin to do that either; I mean, I wouldn't get to sleep tonight’. “Yep! See you at 10!” Cure that mouth of yours; you give him a smile and an awkward wave as he makes his way out the door.

You blow your breath out as if you'd been holding it the entire time, sinking down into your chair. You silently cursed at yourself for agreeing to such a stupid timeframe, but this meant you could binge Days of Our Lives tonight, so maybe it wasn't half bad.

The rest of the day went just as you expected. A couple hems, a few cinches—nothing out of the ordinary apart from the comic book cosplay you agreed to revive back to life. It was currently 3 o’clock in the morning; you'd been sitting there sewing the garment for 7 hours. Honestly, you'd been making great time; you were so close to finishing, maybe 20 stitches left total. Somewhere between the last stitch and a doctor getting slapped, you'd passed out on your living room floor.

You'd awoken to the feeling of your feline licking your cheek, causing you to immediately shoot up off the floor. Your eyes frantically searching for a clock, the power Must’ve gone out sometime around 5 in the morning because that's all you saw flashing back at you on the stove. In a frenzy, you started throwing random clothes on, praying they'd match, shoving the costume in a garment bag, and running out the door. Thats when you finally looked down at your phone, seeing the time read 10:03, “God damnit.” You whined under your breath. Your shop was only a couple blocks away, but that was still a 15-minute walk, so you sprinted. You probably looked like a complete lunatic, but you couldn't care less right now. The incredibly hot customer probably waiting outside your doors was the utmost important thing on your mind.

Dripping in sweat and hyperventilating as you turned the corner to where your shop was, you saw him just as you thought you would. Leaning up against the door, one arm crossed over his torso as he took a drag from his cigar with his other. God, he looked heavenly, and you... Well, maybe not your best day, but definitely not your worst. “Hey, sorry I'm late.” You breathed out, hands resting on your knees as you caught your breath. “But I've got your thingy.” You hold the garment bag up; he just furrows his eyebrows at you, cocking his head to the side. His silence makes you feel more embarrassed than you already do. You get up to unlock your doors, ushering him to follow you inside.

You check him out at the register; the only words being exchanged were the cost of the repairs and where he can tap his card. He walked out with a smile and a nod, a soft ‘Thanks’ escaping his lips before the door shut. You throw your head in your hands, feeling shame wash over you. You were hoping and praying he was going to leave his number on the receipt, but obviously he did not. I mean, why would you have had him waiting and showed up looking like a complete mess? Not very good looks. You simply had to chop it up as a loss and return back to the mundaneness of your life.

The very next morning, though, he was here again, this time holding an old brown jacket. He'd said there was a small hole in the pocket he wanted fixed. This time it only took you all 20 minutes. You asked him to wait upfront as you brought the jacket to the back to repair it. When you returned, you checked him out the same as before, and he left exactly the same as before. This became an everyday routine for the two of you. Every day he'd walk in with some worn-out article of clothing asking you to stitch it up; you always obliged, even if the clothes looked and smelled like they came from 1987. You always did wonder how this guy had so many ripped-up clothes just lying around, and why wouldn't he just bring them in all at once?

This charade had been going on for 2 weeks now when you finally decided to break from your usual script of ‘thank you, come again’. “Why is everything you own torn apart? Is everything okay back home?” You asked as he slipped his card into the machine. You could see the heat rising to his cheeks as he tried to hide a smirk creeping its way on his face. “You want me to be honest with you?” He looked up at you, pursing his lips together in a thin line. You nodded your head, waiting for him to continue, “I honestly thought you were gorgeous when I first walked into your shop.” Now your cheeks started burning red as your eyes went wide. “So every day since then I head into Goodwill and find anything I can with a hole in it so I can find an excuse to come see you.” This was the first time you'd ever seen this man avoid eye contact with you. You couldn't find your words as your throat had gone dry. He was into you??? And here you were this whole time thinking you ruined your shot (and that he was homeless, but you weren't going to tell him that). 

"Well, say something.” He exasperated, snapping you out of your daze. “I honestly don't know what to say; I’m shocked. I get off at 6 if y’know... You wanted to grab something to eat?” You offer awkwardly, smiling through the pain of how anxious you sounded. He looks up to you finally meeting your gaze, a soft smile painted on his lips. “Ill be here to pick you up at 6 doll.” He grabs your hand, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckle. He walked out the door, leaving you in utter shock and denial for the rest of your shift.

hi ps u can always request me shtuff to write! :3

[hexgaywire]

Hi! Could I ask for a short fic (SFW) of Hex comforting his S/O (preferably female) after she gets home tired, from a stressful day of work because she had to stay extra hours? Thanks in advance~ 💕

This is the perfect request I love you 5ever for requesting Hex too. I'd be happy to do this.

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Hex comforting his tired S/O

Ft. Hex Haywire

Warnings: Established relationship, mentions of burnout, food mentions, hurt/comfort type beat

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It had been a long day at work. You're burnt out having to do overtime, your boss had been nagging you all day and all you wanted to do was go back to your apartment with your lovely boyfriend lay down and die.

When you finally clock out for the day you feel the rest of the weight of commuting home start to cave on you. "Only a little longer." You sigh to yourself. Your eyes feel heavy and your body feels like it could give out at any moment.

-

Finally reaching home you fumble for your keys and unlock the door. The smell of food wafts through your nose as soon as you open the door. "Darling is that you?" You hear Hex call from the kitchen. "Yeah it's me." You responded weakly as you set down your stuff and took off your shoes.

You trek into the kitchen, Hex is a sight to behold. He's in an apron, cooking the most delicious meal you've ever seen. "You've been busy." You smile at him. He sighs at you. "So have you! I mean you must be exhausted darling. I just wanted to help out by making you some food so you wouldn't have to deal with that when you got home." He smiles.

You could cry, and you do. He's just so caring and you had such a long day. You sniffle and sob. Hex shuts off the stove and rushes to your side.

He guides your sobbing form to the sofa and gently strokes your back. Once both of you are sat you immediately crawl into his arms and hiccups out a few more sobs. Hex gently shushes, continuing to rub small circles into your back. "Tough day?" He gently prods. You nod silently. "I've got you, I don't want you to worry about anything else tonight." Hex kisses the top of your head.

After holding you for a while you eventually calm down. "Thank you for being amazing Hex. I genuinely don't know what I'd do without you." He smiles warmly at you. "I don't know what I'd do without you, you're amazing and you do so much. I'm just here to remind you that you're loved and I'm extremely proud of you." You squeeze him tightly. " If you want we can take a little nap before you eat? " he suggested. " I'd like that idea." You say as you cozy up on the couch with him and drift off into a nap.

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This was not beta read I literally wrote this at work so if there's any mistakes I'm sorry. Hope you enjoyed it! My requests are still open!

[billys-pretty-babe]

Hi Emily 💙

How are you darling ? Feeling good today ? 🤍

Could I request a fic please ? Something in which reader is best friends with Billy and one day he comes home looking exhausted and she notices he is more tense and stressed than usual, her heart breaks for him so she offers to give him a shoulder massage. At first it's pretty light but gradually Billy relaxes more. She is so soft, so gentle, and so sweet with him that he's on the verge of tears because no one has ever done that for him before.

The second time it happens is maybe because of an injury he got from a basketball game and then reader gives him a full body massage and that's when he breaks down for good. Like full sobbing.

Pure fluff please 🤍🤍🤍🥺🥺🥺

Thank you Em 💙 You are a ✨ gem✨.

Hi babe! I'm doing great, I hope you are too. I'm so sorry this took a few days to finish, I've been studying for my upcoming finals :)

Comfort

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary : ^^^^^^^

Warnings : Billy makes two sex jokes, few swear words but otherwise all fluff!!!

Word Count : ~ 1.5k

A/N : Billy and Reader mention love but it's all platonic!! Billy calls Reader 'babe' but it's just a pet name, no romance!

Billy tiredly trudged into his bedroom to see you on his bed. He smiled as best as he could, exhaustion on his face. "How long have you been here?" You shrugged because it had been long enough for you to lose track of time. "Not long," you responded. Billy put his hand in his back, groaning as he took off his shirt.

Billy rolled his neck, trying to relieve the pressure. "Come here, B." He looked at you before sitting between your legs. You tied his hair up so it wasn't in your way. "What're you doing," he asked, his words slurring. You put your hands on his naked shoulders, gently rubbing the mole he had.

"Just gonna rub your shoulders." He nodded and he felt you apply pressure on his left shoulder as you rubbed the tension out with your thumbs. You softly hummed as you continued to knead his tight muscles. Slowly he began to relax, practically melting into your touch as the knots in his shoulders diminished into nothing. "Am I hurting you?" He quickly shook his head. "No, don't stop please," he softly pleaded.

The more you gently rubbed and quietly talked, the more he felt his walls crumble. Sure, you guys were best friends but he was still guarded. He snapped out of his trance when you gently rubbed the bottom of his neck, making him cringe slightly as he felt slight pain, making you quietly apologize to him before moving your hands again to his shoulder blade.

You were being gentle with him and it made his eyes get teary because throughout his entire life no had been gentle with him until he met you, a person he met during the rough transition period in his life. He felt groggy the more you rubbed. He shimmied down the bed before flopping down in your lap. You laughed and twirled a curl that had fallen out of the hair tie.

"Tired?" He nodded and you attempted to get out from underneath him and he went dead weight as he felt you wiggle. "Stay, quick nap and then I'll take you to the drive-in." You nodded and played with his hair before you both fell asleep.

Months passed, the two of you hanging out everyday and you going to his games no matter what. One night after a game that you weren't able to attend, he walked into your room with a pained expression on his face. "I hurt my back." You put your book down and laid a towel down because no matter how much you loved him, he stunk. He laid on the towel and groaned as he tried to relax on his stomach, his legs hanging off of your bed.

"You're so sweaty," you said as you looked at his back that was slick in sweat, some beads rolling off of his sides and onto the towel. He laughed, "That's man sweat, babe." You rolled your eyes and wiped off his sweaty skin with a discarded towel from your shower earlier in the day. You moved to straddle his butt. "Babe, I'm not into pegging." You rolled your eyes and slapped his thigh, "Shut up." You both laughed and you shook your head.

"Where does it hurt." He grabbed your wrist gently and placed your hand where it was hurting. "Okay, just relax as best as you can." He nodded and moved his arms under his head. "Want some music on?" Billy softly laughed, "Am I gonna get a happy ending." You rolled your eyes once more. "No, I don't want your dick touching me at all." He laughed before you began working your hands over his shoulders first as he hummed.

"I'm not a professional, you know that right?" He nodded, "You're gentle with me, that's why I come to you." You nodded and continued what you were doing as you both talked about the game. You put slightly more pressure on his shoulder blade and he groaned in satisfaction. The room grew quiet before his occasional groan. Your hands moved down to his back to where it hurt the most.

Billy began to think, his eyes shut as he thought about every single way you've cared for him and loved him. You vowed to always be his best friend through thick and thin and for some reason, he felt like life was always going to be on the thick side but no matter what, you were always with him reassuring him every step of the way.

He got into a fight? You were cleaning his wounds, talking him out of his head space. He was remembering his mom? You were there holding his hand and listening to him vent. Through it all in Hawkins, you were there and you'd always be there.

He didn't know it until he sniffled that he was crying. Your hands stopped as they laid on his skin. "B? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry." He shook his head and wiped his tears. "No, I'm okay, promise." You gently rubbed your thumb at the nape of his neck. "Did something happen?" He shook his head, "Just th-thinking," he hiccuped as he spoke, his throat threatening to close as the dam in his eyes was cracking at the pressure of his tears, raging waves ready to leave his beautiful eyes.

You continued to rub his neck softly. "Wanna talk about it?" He shook his head again. "Okay, is it okay if I continue or do you want me to stop?" He sniffled once more, letting his tears fall quickly. "Continue please." You nodded and continued to rub, putting slight pressure at the sorest part of his back. Billy closed his eyes, thinking of his memories with you.

You had both drunk too much alcohol as couples and even friends kissed around the two of you. You and Billy had only been friends for a mere week, if that by the time you had invited him to Tina's party.

"Wanna get outta here," Billy asked, his words slightly slurred. You nodded and he grabbed your hand and ran out of the house as you ran with him, both of you stumbling and he passed his car and your car before running across the road, dodging the slow cars before running into the woods with you.

He tripped over a tree root and landed in a bush, bringing you with him as you crashed into his toned chest as you both loudly laughed. He looked at the stars and began tracing some of them using your index finger. "We should be friends forever." You looked up at him, his eyes glassy and his brain disoriented, surely the California boy wasn't growing soft. "Okay," you responded with a shrug of your shoulders.

That was ten months ago and you kept your word. You finished the massage. "Payment time." Billy laughed and reached into his gym bag and grabbed the snacks that you loved and you thanked him, placing a quick peck to his cheek as he sat up and wiped his face as you opened the bag. "Wanna talk about it now?" He shrugged. "You treat me differently than anyone else has and it feels so fucking good but at the same time, it's like one fuck up and you're out."

You raised a brow, "Billy, I'm not leaving. I know it seems too good to be true, trust me I feel the same but I know I can always count on you when I get into shit that I shouldn't be in and I'm the same for you." He nodded as he laid on your pillows, talking about everything that was making him overthink.

"I'm always here and I'll always be here, nothing will ever change that, okay?" He nodded and squeezed your knee. "Love you." You smiled and rubbed his head like he was a child, "Love you too, B." He laughed and fixed his hair before he got comfortable. "Are you about to fall asleep?" He nodded as he yanked the blanket from you. "Give that back," you said as you tugged it from his tight grip, falling onto your floor and he cackled loudly. "Oh my god," he said as he tried to catch his breath, huffing out a little.

"Help me up you ass." He laughed again and helped you up and you placed the blanket over the two of you. "Don't take my half." He rolled his eyes and mocked you making you both laugh. You settled in, putting your rolled up snacks on your bedside table, knowing you'd finish them in the morning before you fell asleep with Billy.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello dear! It's been a long time :)

I've read some of your Mandela Catalog fanfics and they are amazing!

I would like to make a request, how about the Reader (who was a friend of the Murray's and took care of Adam after the divorce as Lynn didn't have much time to spend with him) take custody of him after his parents died?

Adam at least grew up with someone :) and the Reader always sang songs when he got sad about his parents...

But the events are the same as the Mandela Catalog (Volume 1 and 2 etc.)

In the meantime, the Reader ends up dying for an Alternative, after months of the Reader's death, the events of volume 2 happen and then the events of Mandela Catalyst happen.

Basically, Thatcher finds Adam singing one of the songs that the Reader sang to him to calm him down, but since it's not the Reader singing...he can't calm down at all .

Just Angst in general...sorry :)

Oh boy this one hurt a LOT to write. Strap in and be ready for (several) different timeskips (and a whole lot of angst)

.........

--September 1992--

"Hey, [y/n]. I'm so sorry to bother you, but-"

"It's okay. What's up? Do you need me to watch him for a bit?"

"...I actually needed to talk to you about something important, but he hasn't stopped crying, and...shit...I-I just need a little bit of help if that's alright. I can't calm him down."

Hearing Lynn's exhausted sigh over the phone, you frowned slightly. It especially pained your heart to hear her son's wailing in the background, yet you realized she called you around this specific hour last time..with the exact same problem.

It was strange, honestly.

You would've thought she'd figured out what was going on with Adam by now.

"Wasn't Jude there earlier? Don't tell me he bailed and that's why he's-"

"No. He actually showed up this time and watched him while I was in a meeting. Everything was fine..a-and Adam didn't make any fuss when he left. But now he just started up the waterworks again and...god, I don't know what to do anymore.."

"Well you tell the little guy to hang tight, okay?" You reassured her as you grabbed your keys, jacket, and shoes. "I'm on my way over."

"Thank you so much, [y/n]..I'm sorry about this-"

"Don't be. It's not your fault. I'll see you in a few."

"Alright, see you soon."

After hanging up the phone, you headed out the door and got into your vehicle, driving to the Murray's residence.

You've been close friends with Jude and Lynn, having supported them through nearly every milestone of their relationship: when they had their son, when they got married, and....when they unfortunately went through a divorce two years later.

To this day, you still weren't sure what caused their relationship to crash and burn. They were highschool sweethearts who hoped to move into the big city and have kids--the kind of dream any couple would wanna live out.

But then they became incredibly stressed over raising just one child alone, and thought rushing into marriage would resolve things quickly.

Instead, it only caused more friction between them.

Regardless, you still wanted to help them out. So you've offered to watch Adam for a few hours while Lynn went to work, or if she just needed to get out of the house and take a breather.

He's a good kid...aside from being either quiet or having huge crying fits with consistent patterns to them. You suspected he saw something scary and violent on television once and hasn't recovered since.

Lynn mentioned a toddler stress assessment he took, showing his scores ranging from low to zero, indicating he didn't respond to the stimuli properly. She would have been more concerned if other children his age didn't share similar results, all apparently due to them being witnesses to a "phenomena".

Whatever it was, it must've been traumatic enough for him to have these meltdowns seemingly out of the blue.

But you always succeeded at calming him down. Lynn mom had yet to see your methods, though she's convinced you're some kind of "miracle worker", doing a better job at parenting than she or Jude could.

Fortunately, she was going to find out today.

You arrived at the house, exchanging sympathetic smiles with the exhausted mother before she led you to Adam's room. There, he was in the corner bawling his eyes out.

"Adam, sweetie? Someone's here to see you." She cooed, but to no avail as he didn't even look up at her. Sighing in defeat, she stepped aside when you reassured her you'll handle it.

"Hey, buddy. It's me again." You spoke softly, kneeling down on the floor in front of Adam. For a moment, he fell silent and glanced up at you, hiccupping on occasion.

But when you opened your arms up to him, he started crying even louder and clung to you tightly. "Oh it's okay, kiddo. Shhh, I'm here." You hushed, holding him as you stood back up. "[Y/n]'s here now."

He could only blubber your name in response, snot and tears dribbling down his face as he nuzzled into your shoulder. You rubbed his back, wishing you could take away whatever made him this upset.

Since that wasn't possible, you did the only thing you could do in that moment.

And that was sing.

More specifically, sing a song you heard on the radio earlier today. It's one of your favorites, which always helps you calm down after a stressful day; surely it'll help Adam in his case, too.

Although your voice was soft and quiet, it managed to reach his ears as you sang to him, and eventually it worked its magic. His sobs died into sniffles, and then sniffles into silence.

You smiled. "Did you like that one? That's one of my favorites."

He nodded, now resting his head on your shoulder and closing his puffy eyes as you kept rubbing his back, humming softly. Before you knew it, he was fast asleep.

"....are you serious? I've tried singing to him and it does nothing!" Lynn whispered, astonished you were able to resolve that in a minute, when usually it took her an hour.

"Sorry, I guess he likes my voice better." You chuckled lightly, before your eyes shifted around the room. "Where do you want him? The crib as usual?"

"...as usual. I know he's supposed to be grown out of it, but he refuses to sleep anywhere else."

"It'll happen eventually, I'm sure." You set Adam down, making sure the pillow was comfortably underneath his head. Then you turned back to Lynn. "So...you wanted to talk about something?"

"It's..on the kitchen table." She muttered, confusing you as she turned and walked out the room.

You followed her to the aforementioned section of the house, noticing documents on the table. One mentioned child custody, which was signed by her and Jude...but also had a third blank line on it as well.

"Jude and I had a long talk, and...we both decided that if, god forbid, anything should happen to us and we can't be here to take care of Adam...we'd make you his legal guardian." She explained. "I know it's a lot to ask of you right now and I doubt we'll even need this, but-"

"I'll sign it."

She blinked. "R-Really? I mean..there's no rush. If you need time to think about it-"

"My mind's been made up. With those broadcasts having everyone on edge, it's better to be safe than sorry. But I hope it won't come to that." You picked up the pen, clicking it as you sat down to read the document. "I just sign here? Do I have to go to the court?"

"No, you can just sign it and I'll bring it to them tomorrow." She swallowed the lump in her throat, choking back tears of relief. "I-I just want Adam to grow up in a better place and..we trust that you can do that should it be necessary."

Nodding in understanding, you signed the paper, slipping it back into the folder before you gave Lynn a hug. "If this helps you guys out, then it's fine with me. Does Adam know?"

"W-We're gonna tell him about it, soon. But..thank you so, so much, [y/n]. This means a lot to us."

"Of course, I'm here for you and him till the very end."

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

--One Week Later--

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Lynn? Are you alright? I was driving by and noticed your door was wide open."

"......"

"Lynn? Jude? You guys here?"

"........"

"....Adam?"

"........"

"Anybody home at all? Hello?"

"........."

"C'mon, this isn't.....wha....o-oh my god. LYNN!! No, no, no, no, no!! What the fuck?!! Why would you...y-you....?! Oh Christ, I'm gonna be sick....I need to call 911-"

"[Y/n]? Where's momma...?"

"A-Adam! Don't go in there. Thank god you're okay, but wha...what are you doing out here by yourself??"

"...looking for my new friend."

"Huh? But..sweetheart, there's no one here but us."

"Not even momma?"

"N-No. She's..gone away for a while. And dad, too. But do you remember that talk we had about me looking after you?"

"Mhm."

"Well, that...starts now. I'll be taking care of you for a little while, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good, good..now let's go home."

--January 2002--

It's been 10 years since the worst night of your life, as well as Adam's.

You lost two of your best friends, and he lost his family.

The sight of Lynn's hanging corpse was forever burned into your mind, and you were still unsure of Jude's whereabouts to this very day. He was never found by the police..although you felt like they were too scared to investigate further and give victims like yourself the proper justice.

Nevertheless, you had a promise to keep. And so you've done your best to raise Adam as his legal guardian. Signing those documents all those years ago certainly streamlined the process of you gaining custody over him, and he didn't protest over it.

You never did tell him what actually happened that night. You don't think you'll ever be able to.

All you said was that you found him alone in that house and took him with you, clueless as to where his parents are. It was only partially a lie, yet you still felt guilty.

You tried giving him a normal life away from Mandela County, as it was simply too dangerous to live there. He grew out of the unusual behavioral patterns of his toddler years, thank goodness, and continued being a generally good kid.

In school, he took up a hobby in filmmaking, while also gaining interest in ghost-hunting shows and other subjects related to paranormal activity, including online forums discussing Alternates.

Although concerned about this interest he's been pursuing, you supported his passions.

After turning 14, he reached that "teen angst" state of his life where he was going through lots of changes and constantly flipping moods like a light switch.

And when you picked him up from school today, that bad attitude reared its ugly head for you to see.

He didn't greet you after getting in the car, keeping his headphones on as he stared outside the window, seething red. You did notice a small group of jocks, one of whom seemed to have a nosebleed while the rest scowled at your son, only to see you were staring at them too. They quickly scampered back onto the campus grounds.

But what you didn't notice was Adam rolling down his sleeves to hide his bruised knuckles.

As soon as you both got home, he threw his backpack onto the nearest table and stormed off to his room without speaking a single word to you.

Now any other parent wouldn't have tolerated his disrespect. But rather than chastise him when you knew he was already feeling shitty, you calmly walked towards his bedroom door.

It was partially open, though you gently knocked just to be polite. "Hey, kid..may I come in?"

"....sure. Whatever."

You pushed the door open more, entering to find Adam curled up on his bed, staring down at his music player as he shuffled through some songs. "Glad to see you're using the MP3 I got you for Christmas."

He didn't respond to that, instead burying his face into his knees and keeping his hood drawn over his head.

You sat beside him, knowing that you'd have to choose your next words very carefully from here on out. 'Wish there was some guidebook on caring for a grumpy teenage boy..but I'll have to figure this one out myself..'

"So..what're you listening to?" You asked, hoping to start up some kind of conversation.

"...if you care so much..it's Radiohead." His voice was slightly muffled, but you understood him as your eyes lit up.

"Oh! I love that band."

"You do?"

"Of course! You think I'm too old to enjoy it?" You feigned hurt, although when you heard him sniffle quietly, you sighed and rested a hand on his back. "Look, I noticed those kids staring when I picked you up. They look like the same jerks I used to meet in school. Did...they say anything to you?"

For a few long moments, he was silent, but eventually answered.

"They called me an orphan, so I punched one of them."

Your heart sunk. "Wha--Adam, you gotta be more careful. You could've gotten hurt or expelled-"

"So what? I'm supposed to just take it?" He glared up at you, his eyes red and watery. "I can't defend myself?"

"...that's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that there's other ways we can deal with them without violence. But I agree that what they said was wrong." Frowning, you gently brushed his curly bangs to the side. "They shouldn't be using orphan as an insult."

"Yeah. They think both my parents are dead, but they're liars. My mom's still out there, and if she comes back we can prove them wrong."

Ah.

You could feel this familiar conversation starting up again, but this time you weren't sure if Adam was going to be placated by your answer anymore. The more he pressed about it, the more he got suspicious and tired of the same excuses.

"....are we ever gonna go back to Mandela and try to find her, [y/n]?"

You shook your head. "I'm sorry, Adam. But you know we can't. I...have no clue where we'd even start."

"Then why doesn't she try to find us, instead? She must have escaped those things by now..unless she gave up on me."

"Wha--" You blinked, having no idea how he could've drawn that conclusion so quickly. "What made you think-?"

"I-I mean..it makes sense, right? It's been ten damn years and she hasn't tried looking for us once?" He started getting agitated, taking off his headphones as they no longer comforted him. "Maybe she wanted me out of her life for good. I mean...I'm the reason her and dad divorced."

"Adam, their divorce wasn't your fault at all. I knew your mom for a long time, and she loved you a lot-"

"Then why does it feel like she abandoned me?!!" He snapped, throwing his music devices onto the mattress before scowling at you. "Just tell me the truth, [y/n]!! I can take it. If she said I was a burden, then fucking TELL ME!!"

You took your hand off his back the moment he started shouting, feeling yourself tensing up.

The one thing you hoped not to do was make him angry, and yet here he was...lashing out. But you tried not to take it too personally and stayed quiet.

Not long after his explosion, Adam saw the look on your face and instantly felt remorseful for snapping like that. His face began burning with embarrassment as he looked away, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

"..I'm sorry, I...I just-"

"I know you didn't mean it. It's alright." You carefully wrapped your arm around him, bringing him closer to you. "But you were never a burden to her. That's the truth. She loved you and wanted you to have a better life..one that she couldn't provide. I know you don't understand everything right now, but one day it's all gonna make sense. I can promise you that, son."

He sniffled and tucked his face between your neck and shoulder, trying to stifle his sobs as he mumbled about still missing her so badly. You held him even closer, feeling the poor kid shaking in your arms.

Luckily, you knew exactly how to remedy this situation.

"Adam?"

"Y..yeah?"

"...do you want me to sing to you like I did before? I know you got your music player, but..my voice might help you feel a little better."

For a moment he was quiet, but you felt him nod against your neck. You smiled and kissed the top of his hood, before quietly singing one of his favorite songs:

"Such a pretty house, and such a pretty garden. No alarms and no surprises. No alarms and no surprises...."

He closed his eyes as he listened to your soft voice, tears dampening the collar of your shirt. He felt like he did nothing to deserve you or all of this love after the way he acted earlier.

You could've left him alone, or got angry right back at him.

But you didn't.

You never stopped being there for him.

After Adam calmed down a few minutes later, you let him go and saw him wipe at his face with his sleeve. While still embarrassed to be seen like this, he did feel a lot better. "Y-You...still got it." He chuckled. "You ever think about becoming a singer? Like in a band or something?"

"In my dreams, yeah. But I told ya I'm a big Radiohead fan." You smirked.

"Alright, alright..I guess you're not too "old" to like it." He rolled his eyes, but eventually leaned back onto your shoulder, relaxing. "Thanks again, [y/n]. I-I..really needed that."

"Anytime." You gently hugged him to you. "I'm here whenever you need me, son. I promise we'll go back to Mandela when it's safer."

"Together?"

"Together."

--September 2008--

You couldn't believe it.

You couldn't.

Fucking.

Believe it.

Adam went behind your back and did exactly what you told him not to do.

He left for to Mandela County in the middle of the night, taking a stolen car. Although he did leave you a note saying he was going on a "BPS mission" with Jonah and promised to be back in several days, you were still quite infuriated.

Especially since you've been meaning to talk to him about this little "group" of his.

All this time, you thought it was just some afterschool club he attended that helped him make friends and even find a girlfriend. He told you all they did was chat about ghosts and research paranormal stuff and nothing more.

But he's been using it as a cover-up to hunt down the Alternates who ruined so many lives, breaking several laws while doing so.

You only learned about all this through Evelin, who called your cell phone just a few minutes ago. The poor girl was in tears, explaining that she and Adam had a huge fight, and apparently he told her some....very hurtful things.

Things you'd never believe would come out of your son's mouth.

You didn't raise him this way at all.

You raised him to be a better person, not a rebel who thinks he can talk to girls with such disrespect and run away from home.

Why would he do this all of the sudden?

Did he just get too impatient?

Did he not trust you anymore?

What ever happened to the promise that you'll go to Mandela together?

Regardless, you apologized to Evelin for Adam's behavior before hanging up. Then you called his number, and he surprisingly answered within the first ring.

Usually it took three.

"Hey, [y/n]. What's up?"

""What's up?"" You mimicked, already growing annoyed. ""What's up" is that your girlfriend called me and said you insulted her. All because she didn't like these little "ghost hunts" you've been doing??"

"Oh fuck, did she really tell you about all our problems?" He groaned. "Look, I'm not the bad guy here. I swear. We had a petty argument and she freaked out on ME, and then I got a little defensive. That's all."

"...a "little"? You made her cry, Adam. I had to help her calm down before she could even talk to me."

"....well it's not my fault if she's too damn sensitive."

You couldn't believe how heartless he sounded, but you didn't wanna stay on this topic forever.

So you sighed, sitting down on the sofa as you wondered how you can convince him to stop these ridiculous "hunts". "Listen, son. I just think this is consuming your life too much-"

"But this IS my life, [y/n]! Jonah and I have been making some serious bank from this! Believe it or not, paranormal investigating IS a real job-"

"But it's not a safe one." You interrupted. "I know how badly you want closure on your mother, but those things won't give you any answers. They're only going to kill you if-"

"I stared at one dead in the face and it didn't attack me."

You froze, feeling your heart drop into your stomach. "...what?"

"Yeah! I found out I'm sorta "immune" to M.A.D or whatever, and I have footage of it!" He bragged. "It didn't hurt me at all. We had a pretty funny staring contest. I can send you proof of it so you don't have to worry about me."

"....I don't want "proof", Adam. I want you to come home."

"....not until I find out the truth for myself." Suddenly his tone turned spiteful. "Unless you know something that I don't."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not a dumb kid anymore, [y/n]. If there's something YOU knew about that night that you didn't wanna tell me before...now's the time."

For a few long moments, you were silent as you thought over his words, although his snarky response made your blood boil even more.

At this point you were fed up you were with him sneaking behind your back like this and breaking his promise. You only sheltered the truth of that night from him for this long because you knew how deeply it would hurt him.

But now he was practically goading you into laying it all out.

Maybe that's what you should do. Just to finally put this to rest and make him give up on these stupid "investigations". He was searching for someone who wasn't even alive anymore.

He may hate you, but if this is what he wanted...it's what he'll get.

"I'm sorry, Adam. But-"

All of the sudden, a loud sound akin to static noise crackled right into your eardrum, causing you to flinch and hold the phone far away from you.

Only then did you notice an unknown caller ID had popped up, the ringtone playing normally. You declined it and tried calling Adam back, but the same mysterious number showed up again before you could even dial anything.

You had no choice but to answer the stranger.

"Hello? Yes?"

"This is no longer your place to spill secrets, I'm afraid." A male's voice, staticky and coarse, droned in your ear. "Only I will reveal everything to our prophet soon enough."

"....your prophet? Who the hell is this?" Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I think you got the wrong number. I don't know any "prophet". Goodbye."

Hanging up, you hoped to put an end to that discussion and reach out to Adam once more-

"Of course you do, [y/n]. He's the son you've taken under your wing."

Every muscle in your body tensed.

The same voice was now inside your own home.

Your eyes searched the living room until you noticed the TV flickering to life, the screen displaying a hooded man with a face that looked as if it were melting.

"How do you know about him?" You scowled. "Don't tell me...you're the creep who kidnapped all those kids back in-"

"You played right into our hands. You've passed our test. I must say you've raised him well..keeping him in the dark about his truth." The Intruder taunted. "But it's time you open your eyes and recognize the favor you've done for us."

"...what favor? What does any of this have to do with Adam?!"

"From the moment you saw that boy's poor mother...he ceased to exist, too. I had taken him only for a moment, and gave you back something you promised to protect. But you've been living a lie, [y/n]. Your "son" was never actually him."

"You mean to tell me he's......?" Your heart dropped into your stomach, realizing what he was implying. But you clenched your fists. "N-No. You're lying."

"You had already failed them before you even realized it." The TV glitched to show the shadow of a certain woman with her neck broken, before displaying an image of the Murray house, before it reverted back to the Intruder's face. "You could've joined them, but we wanted to see how he'd grow under your watchful eye. Now thanks to you, we know we can blend into mankind and watch it rot from the inside out. And soon we'll awaken him, too, and rejoice."

"I don't believe you." You tried keeping your voice steady and calm, knowing he was attempting to inflict M.A.D on you. "If you think he's going to be anything like you freaks...you're dead wrong."

"Oh, but he will. He must. It's his fate."

"If he's one of you, then why would he care for the real Adam's mother like she was his?! And on that note...was hanging her just your little "distraction" so you could-?!"

"You accuse me as if I pulled the rope." He scoffed. "But I didn't. She just lost all hope and faith in finding him. That poor mother, too distraught at the sight of her missing infant---distraught at the sight of her missing infant, missing infant, missing infantmissinginfantMISSINGMISSINGMISSINGMISSINGMISSING...."

His voice suddenly began repeating on a loop, corrupted messages and symbols covering the screen. Through it all, you were still able to make out his haunting gaze and widening grin.

The only way he disappeared was when you grabbed a nearby chair and smashed the glass with it, shattering the screen to pieces. Electric sparks and smoke sputtered out of the TV, but besides that...it was finally silent again.

You huffed and took several steps back.

Yet you had little time to fully process everything he told you as your phone rang again. You hesitantly checked it, only to become relieved at seeing's Adam's number and quickly answered it.

"A-Adam! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, um..are you? What happened? You just hung up on me.." He sounded rather concerned.

"I didn't mean to. S-Something must've disconnected our call.." You scrambled to grab your keys, convinced he was in danger.

'Damnit, I swore I was gonna stay away from Mandela, but if he's still there....and HE knows about him-.'

However before you could get your shoes, you stopped and felt a sudden chill run up your spine.

One that left you with the feeling that you weren't alone anymore.

Your gaze slowly went to the front door, where a tall humanoid figure lurked in the nearest corner. It was overtaken by a huge shadow, although the whites of its elongated eyes were still visible, staring back at you.

Adam's concerned "hellos" on the other end fell on deaf ears as you watched the creature limp out from the darkness, revealing itself to be the most horrifying attempt at human mimicry possible.

The worst part?

It looked just like you.

"I'm here whenever you need me, son." It echoed your voice, stalking towards you and forcing you away from the front door, back into the kitchen area. "Something must've disconnected our call-l-l!"

"Who the hell was that? What's going on?!"

Finally hearing your son again, you swallowed back tears as you shakily reached for a large knife, keeping the phone in a tight grip.

This was it for you.

You've just been a pawn in their plans all along.

The Intruder had intentions to kill you with M.A.D by revealing you've basically raised an Alternate for them, and if that despair alone didn't end your life.....then this beast that somehow got inside your home will surely finish the job.

But screw that. Screw all of them.

You'll fight till your last breath if you must.

Your only regret is leaving Adam all alone when he's already lost so much in his life...but you didn't want him to think you resented him.

"I-I have to go. I'm sorry if I sounded harsh back there. I just want you to make the right choices. But if this BPS stuff makes you happy, then..keep doing what you're doing. Just be careful, okay?"

"Uh, sure. But why are you talking like that, [y/n]??" His voice was growing more worrisome. "Look, I'm sorry. I-I swear I'll come back home soon-"

"Don't worry about me...I'll be okay." You smiled shakily, not taking your eyes off the creature closing in. "Just take care of yourself out there. This world's cruel, but I know you'll kick it in the ass."

"Just wait a damn second! Don't g-!"

"Goodbye, my son. I love you."

You ended the call, dropping the phone to the ground and holding the knife with both hands, finally ready to accept your fate.

The Alternate howled with laughter, before it lunged at you with its claws and jaws wide open.

"GOODBYE-E-E!!!!"

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!!"

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Uh-oh! Bad decision, [y/n]!"

.

.

.

--January 16th, 2009--

Adam staggered through the front door to his home, famished, dehydrated, exhausted....

And burdened with knowledge that made him want to die.

Only a few months ago, you disappeared after that concerning phone conversation you two exchanged. He hasn't heard your voice since, and when he returned to Werksha..you were nowhere to be found.

There was no sign of a break-in, or anything of that sort..but Adam was convinced you were taken just like his mom was--obviously by one of the Alternates.

So he went back to Mandela to continue his investigations alongside Jonah, growing desperate for answers. There had to be at least one who knew what happened to you and where you are.

His obsession with these hunts only worsened, turning him into a crueler person around those who questioned his reasons for "chasing" after Alternates. Evelin did break off the relationship for good, seeing as he was too far gone to even reason with.

He knows you would've been disappointed in him...but surely you'd understand why he'd do this. You understood him better than anyone.

You said it yourself. As long as he was careful, he can do whatever he wanted!

Yet nothing ever turned up.

Until the day he and Jonah agreed to help put a cat's spirit to rest, the "owner" offering them $500 a night if they stayed for three in total...

That investigation ended in a huge argument in which Jonah brought up your name and his mother, setting him off and indirectly causing his best friend's death.

And then he was all alone again, but acted like none of it bothered him and tried to quell BPS' online following with a memorial video.

Days later, the Intruder contacted him on his laptop and unveiled the truth about his existence--the same truth he told you before you died.

"Your skin is not your own."

"You're not the real you."

Those words were drilled into Adam's mind, and he could feel his own body going through an agonizing metamorphosis as he forced himself to drive back to Werksha one last time.

He barely was able to drag himself out of the van and through the front door.

But that's when he was greeted by a grisly sight:

Your rotting corpse slumped against the wall, a bloody knife in your palm and a deep slash wound across your throat, your clothes caked in dried blood.

You were never missing.

You died.

And whatever monster brought you back here decided to present you as some twisted "gift" for him.

Adam collapsed and screamed so loudly that it shattered the lights he turned on, deciding right there that he didn't wanna live this way anymore. He couldn't. He didn't wanna become one of them.

He wanted to join you while he still had his humanity left.

Yet despite all his attempts to end his misery, including using the same knife you used to stab himself and consuming enough bleach cleaner he found under the sink to make him vomit his guts out......nothing was working.

His body didn't fail him like he expected.

He still felt his bones breaking in all the wrong ways, and now his insides fucking burned like an inferno.

Eventually, Adam stopped and instead covered your body with his BPS hoodie, sobbing about how sorry he was for not being here for you, before he managed to crawl his way into his room--his one place of comfort.

Having no strength to climb onto the mattress, he just slumped next to his bed, leaning against the nightstand for support. He made the mistake of looking into the cracked mirror beside him...and wailed as he saw the same monster that robbed you of life staring straight back at him:

A gaunt, skinny husk of a boy with pupils of light and a horrifying facial expression that's impossible for humans to mimic.

God, he wishes he spent more time with you...had he known all of this was going to happen..

Did you know he was an Alternate? Is that why you were afraid of him coming back to Mandela?

What would you do if you found him like this?

Would you still hold him?

Would you still sing to him?

Or....

'That's it...I can sing...' He realized, slowly quieting down as he recalled all the times you sang to him whenever he was saddened in the past.

If you were able to calm him down easily, then surely he can calm himself down in a similar way in this situation. It's just his own voice this time around; it couldn't be that much different...right?

It was worth a try.

"...s-such...a...pretty house...and...and such a pretty gardennn...."

He ignored the creaking of the front door being opened, and the footsteps that echoed through the house, slowly approaching his room.

"No..alarms-s-s....and no....a-and no....!"

Suddenly Adam began hyperventilating, eyes filling with tears as he struggled to finish the line, despising the way it sounded.

It wasn't the same.

It wasn't your voice.

It was a voice that wasn't even his own. Just a broken and flawed attempt to mimic the real Adam's--the one who never even got a shot at life before it was stolen away from him.

If this didn't help him..then nothing could..

He wanted you back.

He needed your voice to sing and comfort him, just as you've done all those years ago.

He needed you.

But you're never coming back again.

Up to this point, a certain ex-lieutenant officer with a vendetta against the Alternates entered the bedroom, shining the light around until he found this kid sitting all alone and....

Singing a Radiohead song?

He realized his ears weren't deceiving him, but just as he attempted to confirm his identity-

Adam's jaw unhinged without warning, stretching to impossible proportions as he looked directly into his eyes, screaming and crying out with all the grief left in him:

"GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!"

[daughterofthequeen]

Contribution

Pairings: Ezra Bridger x gn!reader

Requested by: @theriseofshin

A/N: I added a little more to the story I hope that's ok. And omg look at the gif I found, Eman is so Ezra coded. THE SHOULDER BOUNCE WHEN THEY SMILE. Ok so this based on season 3 episode 11 of Rebels and also somewhere in between S3 E11 and S3 E13. The idea just popped up in my head, we'll see how it goes. Reader is force sensitive. This is also unedited btw.

Summary: When you, Sabine, and Kanan followed Maul and Ezra to Dathomir, the witches somehow took away your powers. Which should've been impossible, but ever since that incident you've felt like you brought nothing to the team. You felt like you were in the way. Seeing this Ezra quickly took these thoughts from your mind reminding you of who you are.

Translation: kokipa- fear

You were laying on your bed enjoying having the room to yourself for once. I mean don't get me wrong, you and Sabine get along really well as roommates as well as sisters can be anyway, but lately in your spare time you'd ather be alone. After what happened on Dathomir, you rather not be around anyone.

EDIT: I accidentally deleted this when I was trying to make a correction. You guys don’t know how stressed I was.

And HUGE shout to @nubimera for reblogging this story because not only were you the first reblog of this fic but you are the reason I was able to get pictures of my fic so I wouldn’t have to rewrite it. THANK YOU SO MUCH YOURE SO AMAZING🥰❤️🥰❤️🥰❤️🥰❤️🥰❤️🥰and a big thanks to everyone who like my fic in the short amount of time of me posting before I accidentally deleted it🤦‍♀️🫣🤦‍♀️

Few weeks ago on Dathomir

After Ezra threw you out of the cave the spirit left your body, giving you back control of your limbs.

"Why is it every time we work with Maul, weird force stuff happens and I'm always hurt trying to save you?" You said with a small smile while trying to rub away your migraine.

"Wait you're hurt? Where?" Ezra responded reaching towards you looking for any injuries.

“I'm hurt mentally, these experiences take a toll on a person you know." You smirked and Ezra rolled his eyes at your teasing.

"I thought you were injured."

"I do have a heck of a headache if that makes you feel any better." You said as you stood up.

"No, you stay here. I'm going to go get Sabine and Kanan."

"Then I want to help."

"They'll just posses you again."

"And what about you?"

"I have a plan."

"Great, then I can help with that. I'll take Sabine and you can take Kanan." You said walking back into the cave.

Ezra sighed at your stubbornness and followed you in.

"You know you're pretty stubborn." Ezra says.

"I've been told that before."

Sensing something behind you, you quickly ignited your light saber and blocked the one aimed at you. You called out and told Ezra to go help Kanan before focusing back on your best friend.

"Sabine if you can hear me, I'm sorry." You said as you broke the hold of the lightsabers and kicked Sabine in her stomach sending her backwards. Seeing her getting up you pressed on slowly but surely backing Sabine towards the entrance of the cave before a force knocked you over. You opened your eyes to see the spirit that came after you the first time. You quickly dodged it and turned back around towards Sabine and when you did you felt a pair of fingers on your forehead and you hear one word before blacking out.

"Kokipa."

The Next Day

The next thing you knew you were waking up in your bed with Ezra sitting next to you, and it didn't take long to realize the damage that had been done. Once you had woken up completely everything felt quiet. You couldn't feel anything around you. You went to Kanan to ask him about it and he said it could just be fatigue, but you didn't believe it. You have been way more exhausted before and it never affected your powers. It wasn't until a few days later during a mission briefing when you realized your powers were gone. Hera was explaining the mission when you seen one of the cute hermit crab things that were all around chopper base. It was sitting next to your hand on the edge of the holo-table. Smiling softly you reached out to it with the force, well you tried anyway. It was something you would do all the time, but this time you couldn't feel its emotions or its presence. Trying not to panic you looked around trying to connect with any living thing you had seen, but felt nothing. Now it was time to panic. You looked towards Ezra and Kanan. Ezra must've felt your worry and unease because he looked up directly at you seeing your panicked eyes. A few seconds of the two of you staring at each other, he gave you a confused look. That's when you realized he was trying to talk to you through the force link only the two of you shared.

When the two of you met you both instantly created a bond that grew stronger every day. About a month into your friendship you both realized you could use the force to connect your minds and talk to each other telepathically. Kanan explained that it was because of the bond you two share and that it was a rare occurrence and could be dangerous if the two of you weren't careful with your emotions. Over time you both mastered the skill, only this time you couldn't hear Ezra thoughts at all or even feel him through the force. That's when you started to panic. You didn't even hear Hera when she asked if you were ok, or notice Kanan quickly moving to your side while Ezra made his way to the other. All you could hear was your body trying to catch its breath. You couldn't breath, and you could barely hear Ezra trying to walk you through slowing your breathing, but you couldn't. Every thing sounded like it was under water.

Kanan and Ezra walked you to the common room of the Ghost as the others followed, watching worriedly as Ezra was slowly able to calm you down.

"So, you gonna tell us what's going on?" Kanan said.

"Somethings wrong with me." You replied.

"What do you mean?"

"I think I've lost my powers."

Everyone was silent at first, a Jedi losing their connection to the force was so rare it was basically unheard of during the times of old. The only way for a force user to lose their powers was if they stopped using it completely.

"(Y/n), that's not possible."

"Then tell me what it is Kanan! It's not exhaustion, it's something else! It's like everything has gone quiet, if I wasn't looking at all of you right now, I wouldn't even know you were here! Tell me what to do Kanan.”

"I-I haven't seen anything like this before (Y/n). I'm not sure there is anything we can do. Let me think on it, we'll figure it out I promise." You could hear the sadness in Kanan's voice which only worries you more. You said nothing else as you stood up went to your room. You were anxious, angry, sad, and scared.

"What would my contribution to the team be now?" You asked yourself before the sound of the door opening caught your attention. It was Ezra.

"Hey." He said softly.

"Hey."

"How you doin'?" Ezra asked as he sat next to you on your bunk.

"How do you think I'm doing?" The pause that followed was uncomfortable and the guilt you felt caused you to sigh.

"I'm sorry, Ezra. I'm just- I don't know why I’m going to do.”

"Don't worry, we'll figure this out, (N/ n)."

"It's not just that."

"Then what is it?"

"How am I supposed to help the team?"

"What?"

"Without the force, I'm useless to the team."

"That's not true! You are more than just your powers (N/n)."

"Am I? I'm not skilled in mechanics like Sabine, I'm not as good a shot as Zeb, and I definitely don't even come close to flying as good a Hera. You and Kanan, even you guys come up with really good plans when needed. I can't do any of that stuff. I knew how to fight, but now that my powers are gone how am I supposed to do that well." You said looking away from Ezra.

"Woah, woah, woah, let me stop you right there. You are a vital part of this team, this family. And just because you think you don't contribute anything other than your lightsaber doesn't make it true. I can't tell you how many messes you've gotten us out of with your quick thinking, how many problems your creative mind help fix for everybody on this ship, constantly. And you're a fierce warrior with and without your saber."

"Ezra." You sighed.

"You are needed here, and I won't let you think otherwise. And I will repeat myself everyday until you believe it, if I have to." Ezra finished as he softly cups your cheek and turn your head back towards him to look you in the eyes.

"Thanks, Ezra. But-"

"No buts." He said leaning forward pressing a soft kiss on your cheek, then another on your lips. "Now, let's forgive this out. Start from the beginning." And you did. You told him about everything that happened yesterday, and retracing your steps helped you realize the reason your powers are gone. You were still anxious and afraid, but with Ezra there you knew everything was going to turn out fine.

————————————————————

A/N: Finally finished I hope this isn't to cringe or anything. And hopefully this fulfilled your request. Thank you so much for sending in your request, and giving me a chance to bring your idea to life. I will now be heading to bed. Good night, guys.

Edit: But I did discover something from this mistake if you have a iPad and an iPhone you can copy something from said iPad and all you have to do is click ast on your iPhone and it’ll paste whatever it was from your iPad to your phone. I’m late Ik BUT it was such a life saver because I promise if I had to rewrite this whole fic out again without a reference (not that I didn’t enjoy writing it the first time) this fic was going to be my 13th reason. Hope you guys enjoy, toodles👋.

[hallows-evening]

I LIVE! :D

HAII SKATERBEETLE FIC PART TWO!!!!! (first part here!) ^^ I'm so sorry for my multiple hiatuses (hiatusi??) but... I return finally with a fic :3 (and hopefully soon finish the art requests I've been getting, don't think ive been ignoring you guys!! I see em and they're gonna get done next hehe >:3 feeling... ✨ motivated ✨)

Bit of a long one, but mostly because I had fun with it (I love their dynamic..) ^w^ enjoy!!

Pest is being anxious and avoidant today, so Infected decides to help cheer him up (and to finally get his revenge)!

⚠️ This is a tickle fic, if that makes you uncomfortable then move on!! <3⚠️

NSFW / PROSHIP / FETISH DNI

🍂 Ler!Infected, Lee!Pest

"Hello :D!" Infected quickly ran into the elevator, almost frantically as he avoids the infected parts and right after he enters, the elevator doors close. He was almost too late! He let out a quick breath of relief, wiping his nose clean. His allergies were acting up today, and it was getting annoying.

He looked around the elevator, his eyes instantly finding themself on his boyfriend across the elevator: Pest. His eyes lit up and he waved his hands, but was greeted with silence. It was like Pest didn't even awknowledge he was there.

Infected cleared his throat loudly, letting out a wet cough because of it and quickly rubbing his throat as if it hurt. He took in Pest's posture and noticed how they were leaning very heavily against the elevator sidebars, and Infected had a bit of worry creep onto him.

He slowly approached and tapped Pest's shoulder, and Pest instantly snapped his head up in surprise, whipping around to look at Infected, who was smiling up at them.

"Are u doin' okay, Pesty?" Infected tilted his head up at him, taking note of how tired and disheveled Pest's appearance looked. It seemed to him like he hadn't slept in days. Which was probably an exaggeration on his part, but still.

Pest responded with a soft grumble, turning away and leaning against the elevator wall again. Infected frowned, the worry, along with frustration, growing the more Pest seemed to avoid him. He hated when they got like this, since it usually meant something was wrong.

Infected huffed. "Well, be a lil grumpbug then." He crossed his arms and pouted, moving back across the elevator and leaning up against the wall, keeping his eyes on Pest.

They stayed quiet the entire ride, and after around 20 minutes the elevator dinged once again, but this time Pest quickly got off, leaving with such haste that Infected barely even registered they left.

He ran after Pest, letting out a surprised "H3Y!". Pest stopped and turned around, growling at Infected, making him stop in his tracks.

"Leave me alone, will you? I have things I need to do." they chittered, his red eyes glaring at Infected. He took note of the small wince he made, and felt a tiny bit of guilt, but it was instantly brushed off.

Infected backed away, intertwining his fingers together nervously. "O-okay. Meet bacc up at ur place l8r, then?" He sneezed weakly, a bit of glitchy snot coming out of his nose, which he quickly went to wipe up before it got too messy.

Pest watched him wipe the snot away, his eyes narrowing. They turned away and waved their hand dismissively, letting out a quiet "I do not care." before walking off.

Infected stood there for a minute, before turning back. The elevator was gone. He was quiet for a second before stomping his foot and yelling "G0D ######!"

A few hours later...

Pest entered through his home's door, hissing as his horns got snagged on the door frame because of his haste. Infected heard the noise and peeked up over the back of Pest's couch, letting out a quick sneeze as the dust kicked back up from the door.

"Look who is fiiiiinally bacc!" Infected let out a quiet giggle as he watched Pest walk towards him, not caring about the pissed off look he was receiving. He heard a small grumble escape Pest, before their eyes softened, their face now looking exhausted, all traces of anger gone.

Infected's smile disappeared at that sudden change and he got up, arms extended as if he were about to hug Pest, but not going any further in fear he would upset them more. "How's meh buggy doin'?"

A growl in response. Pest went past Infected and went to his bedroom, leaving Infected with his arms wide. Infected huffed and lowered them, thoughts running through his head about what to do to make Pest feel better.

Baking? They looked too tired for that, might set the kitchen on fire. Snuggling? Infected would like that, Pest might not if they're this upset. Then a memory popped up in his head, which gave him an idea. He'd probably get a few bites and claws for this little plan, but honestly, he'd been meaning to get his revenge anyways, regardless of the price.

Infected quietly followed in Pest's footsteps to the bedroom, peeking in. Pest was laying on the bed, eyes staring up at the ceiling. He had nothing but shorts and a t-shirt on, his hoodie and pants thrown in random spots as if he didn't care where they would end up after taking them off.

Infected knocked on the door, Pest didn't respond, so he used that opportunity to walk in, closing the door behind him. He scooted over to the bed and got on it next to Pest, looking down at him. "...Bad day?"

Pest looked up at him, letting out a small grunt in response. Infected smiled and got closer, wrapping Pest into a tight embrace. Pest sighed and leaned into Infected. Which that simple gesture told him it was safe to do his plan.

Infected quietly trailed his fingers across Pest's arms, almost basically massaging them as he used his nails to get into the small grooves. Pest sighed softly, relaxing against him, stretching their arms out so Infected could get to them easier.

Then he struck. Infected's fingers the moment Pest stretched his arms out went to scribble in the small space right between both sets of his arms, knowing that was a weak point. And it instantly got Pest going.

They squirmed frantically, grabbing at Infected's hands as they scrunched their face up, mandibles clicking together rapidly. They were struggling not to laugh, which made Infected want to try more.

"I'm gonna getchu!" Infected teased playfully, moving down to scratch his fingers across Pest's belly, even moving his shirt out of the way to get to his skin easier. Pest let out a high-pitched snort and kicked his legs in response, bringing them up in a vain attempt to protect himself.

Infected instantly took notice of this and adjusted himself to sit on Pest's legs. "Oooh no u don't!" He smirked at Pest's semi-shocked face as he went back to Pest's sides, earning a few small giggles as they slipped out of Pest against his will.

Pest was squirming around frantically underneath Infected, the bedsheets scrunching up in his struggles. "Infected!" He hissed out, more giggles escaping his mouth as he glared up at him, a goofy smile stuck on his face.

Infected tilted his head, cooing and moving his hands away from Pest's sides to cup his face, smiling at him as Pest's cheeks turned a deep crimson. "I'm just gettin' a little revenge!" He grinned. "U hav been a pain in da [Content Deleted] aaall day, I'm just helping out a bit!"

He giggled as Pest let out a growl at that, and he pushed Pest up into a sitting position. Infected started placing quick little kisses across Pest's neck, letting out a couple laughs along with Pest as they jerked away, laughing like crazy. "DOHOHON'T!!"

Infected shook his head, chuckling as he used his weight to pin Pest down as he brought his hands up to gently claw at the sides of their neck, being rewarded with a loud snort, a yell, and quite a lot of hysteric laughter.

Pest shook his head, pushing his shoulders up like it would do anything to deter Infected (which it didn't.) Instead, Infected blew a raspberry against their neck, flinching slightly when a shriek erupted from Pest and they pushed forward, nearly knocking Infected off.

Pest's entire body felt like it was being shocked with every touch Infected gave his neck, and he could feel his energy leaving rapidly as he let out all his laughter. He didn't want to admit it, but he was having fun, even enjoying it as he could feel Infected's affection through his tickling. It was definitely taking away all his stress, that's for sure.

After a few more minutes, Pest's laughter started getting wheezier and weaker, to which Infected instantly noticed and stopped his tickling, placing one last little kiss against Pest's neck before pulling away and flopping down on the bed next to him.

"Feel any better?" Infected moved himself underneath one of Pest's arms and snuggled up to them, moving their (now messy) hair out of the way. Pest breathed heavily, not responding in any way for a solid minute before gulping and nodding their head, snuggling Infected back.

Infected smiled at that and lifted his head up, placing a gentle kiss on Pest's cheek, closing his eyes as he laid his head against Pest's shoulder. Pest exhaled softly and closed his eyes as well, exhaustion finally overtaking him, feeling warm and safe as Infected held him in an embrace.

After a good while, Infected heard soft snores coming from Pest, and he smiled, letting himself try to get some rest with him, in which he finally did.

[datingjaeminfr]

+ ONLY FOR YOU + JOSHUA HONG

PAIRING: Joshua Hong x Male Reader

GENRE: Smut

WARNINGS: Mentions of drinking, Rough sex, Dirty talk, Orgasm control

Summary: You told your best friend you weren't a sub for anybody. He made it his goal to prove you wrong in one night.

Note: I might not be able to post in half term if I'm busy but I'll try my best.

You and your friend Joshua had been drunk one night. Well, you had been drunk at least. Joshua was just a bit tipsy. He had asked you if you were a top or bottom out of curiosity, and possibly the crush he had on you. He hid it well however, asking you the question when you were off your head so as not to raise suspicion. You didn't want to tell him that you weren't dominant. It was embarrassing to you, so you lied, praying he couldn't see through it, "Of course I'm dominant. Always have been, always will be. There's not a single person in this world that can top me, make me submissive."

Your current situation was most likely a cause of being too arrogant. A few days later and here you are, getting your soul fucked out. Joshua held you down by your shoulder and waist. His hips slammed into you at a harsh, rapid pace. Your moans were loud and high pitched in tone. They forced themself out of you hoarse throat with every powerful thrust. Your body ached from what Joshua had done to you, flipping you into difficult positions. Your throat was sore from him choking you without mercy. Even when giving you hickeys he hurt you, biting you before or after, leaving deep red marks. You were pretty sure you had actually bled slightly from a few of them.

He stopped pounding you, flipping you over before fucking his dick straight back into you. The new angle allowed him in deeper than before. He began to hit your prostate repeatedly, causing you to bite your tongue to stop from screaming. The bed was rocking back and forth, hitting the wall with loud bangs and squeaking. For a second you were worried about the bed not being able to hold the both of you, but Joshua didn't leave you any time to care for that.

Your eyes were teary, the clear, salty liquid escaping your eyes every second, a new tear always replacing the one that had gone last. Despite all this, you enjoyed it. Your eyes rolled back, lids half closing as a dumb smile stretched across your face. You repeatedly screamed his name, no longer caring who heard you so long as Joshua gave you what you so desperately wanted. Your brain numbed, you could only stupidly say his name over and over as though it was the only word you knew. All you wanted to do was please him, no matter what he did to you to have that pleasure.

Your legs began shaking, signalling your orgasm was close. "Don't you dare cum." Joshua growled, going even faster. You were driven crazy at the new pace, wanting to come undone even more, "B-but-" He cut you off, "Tell me who you belong to and I'll think about it." You knew if you said the answer you were giving the last ounce of control to him. Your body begged you to give into your orgasm and ignore him, release your load against his order. Your sub side wouldn't allow it, instead forcing you to give into his demands. "Y-you, I belong t-to you."

You knew Joshua heard you but the man cruelly got you to hold in your fluids for longer, teasing you, a sadistic, almost inhumane smirk on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. What was that love?" You repeated the sentence, screaming it out in desperation, your muscles burning from trying to stop your body shaking. He hummed in thought, taking his sweet time in deciding if he should let you release or not. "Joshua please! I've been good!" You begged him. "Cum with me then," he responded, finally letting your body relieve itself.

The orgasm you held for so long took control, body spasming. Your back arched as he filled you up, white blinding your vision as you released directly after him. Joshua pulled out, collapsing on top of you. You both lay there exhausted, sweating, as you panted heavily in an attempt to catch your breaths back. "You sure you aren’t a bottom?" Joshua got out between gasps of air. "Only for you," You murmured, blacking out as the recent events took a toll on your body. Joshua had done it.

He had proved you wrong in a single night.

[coolbeans32]

Echoes of Destiny: The Serpent and the Phoenix

PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader (OC)

SYNOPSIS: After an exhausting day, Harry, Hermione, and Genevieve, along with Nagini, prepare a plan to retrieve two crucial Horcruxes—the diary and the ring—by traveling back in time. Over a modest dinner, they discuss the complexities of their mission. Just as they finalize their plans, Ron returns after a long absence, bringing renewed hope and determination to the group. The next day, armed with their Time-Turners and a meticulously crafted strategy, Harry and Hermione journey to the Chamber of Secrets while Ron and Genevieve head to the decrepit Gaunt shack. Both teams succeed and return to the present, narrowly avoiding detection and maintaining the timeline’s integrity. When the group returns, they celebrate their success, having secured two more pieces of Voldemort's soul without causing any ripples in time. Their victory brings them one step closer to their ultimate goal—defeating Voldemort and restoring peace.

WARNINGS: Some violence and danger are present in this chapter, as well as suspense and anxiety inducing sciences, but not too much. Let me know if there are any warnings or trigger warnings that I should add :)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry it's been taking too long for me to update. I've been working on summer research and that takes up a lot of time but never fret, I will make sure to update as soon as I can. Happy Reading :))

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

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Chapter Fourteen

The Ring and The Diary

The long, mahogany table at Grimmauld Place was laden with a modest but hearty dinner. The flickering light of candles added a warm glow to the otherwise dark and dreary kitchen. Harry, Hermione, and Genevieve sat around the table, finally taking a break after an exhausting day of research. Nagini, an unexpected guest, also gathered around the table, enjoying her human form once again after many years stuck in her serpent form.

"Pass the mashed potatoes, please," Harry said, reaching out to Hermione, who obligingly handed over the bowl.

"Who knew researching Horcruxes would be this draining?" Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples. "We're making progress, though. I can feel it."

Genevieve took a sip of her tea, her eyes twinkling with a mix of exhaustion and amusement. "Indeed. We’re close to figuring out how to safely retrieve the diary and the ring without altering the timeline too drastically."

Harry nodded, his forehead still creased with concern. "It's just... we need to be absolutely certain. One wrong move and we could cause irreparable damage."

Nagini shifted slightly, drawing their attention. Hermione glanced at her expression, a mix of wariness and curiosity. "It's still surreal having you here, helping us. I don’t think any one of us expected this," she murmured.

Genevieve smiled. "Stranger alliances have been formed in times of need. She's proven herself, hasn't she?" Before anyone could respond, the front door creaked open. Harry and Hermione exchanged puzzled glances as the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. Suddenly, Ron appeared in the doorway, looking weary but determined.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, leaping from her chair. She rushed to him, throwing her arms around his neck. "I've missed you so much! Are you okay?" Ron hugged her tightly, his face lighting up with a tired but genuine smile. "I'm fine, Hermione. Missed you too."

Harry was next, crossing the room to clap Ron on the back before pulling him into a hug. "Good to have you back, mate. We were worried."

Genevieve watched the reunion with a warm smile, her hands cradling her teacup. "Welcome back, Ron. Your timing couldn't be better." Ron, looking around at the gathered group and even sparing a cautious glance at Nagini, grinned. "I see things have changed a bit since I left." Hermione pulled back slightly, her eyes shining with relief and affection. "We've had a few surprises. Come, sit down. You must be starving."

 As Ron took a seat at the table, Harry passed him a plate piled high with food. "We've been working on a way to retrieve the diary and the ring intact. It's been challenging."

Ron nodded, his face serious. "Sounds like I came back just in time, then. I've been doing some thinking too. Maybe I can help."

Hermione reached out, placing her hand over Ron's. "We can definitely use all the help we can get. But for now, let’s eat and catch up." The conversation flowed easily after that, filled with laughter. They shared stories, both old and new, the warmth of their friendship a beacon in the otherwise dark and uncertain world they faced. Even Nagini seemed to relax, her posture less tense as she observed the group. Genevieve, watching the scene unfold, felt a glimmer of hope. As the evening wore on, the exhaustion of the day melted away, replaced by the comforting presence of friends reunited. The challenges ahead were daunting, but for now, they had each other. And that was enough.

In the dimly lit family room, the air was thick with anticipation. Genevieve stood at the center, her eyes fixed on the group seated around her. Harry, Hermione, and Ron listened intently, while Nagini sat quietly to the side, her gaze sharp and focused.

"Thank you all for gathering here," Genevieve began, her voice steady and resolute. "We’ve made significant progress, and now it's time to discuss the plan to retrieve the diary and the ring. These Horcruxes are crucial to our mission, and we must handle this delicately."

Harry leaned forward, his brows furrowed. "So, how do we do this without messing up the timeline?"

Genevieve took a deep breath. "We’ll split into two teams, each responsible for retrieving one Horcrux. The key is to not venture too far back in time. We’ll aim for the most recent moments that allow us to make the switch seamlessly."

Hermione, ever the logical thinker, interjected, "But even small changes in the past can have significant impacts. How do we ensure we don't alter history?"

"Transfiguration," Genevieve replied. "We will transfigure the damaged Horcruxes to appear undamaged. This way, when we make the switch, the timeline remains unaffected as much as possible. The illusion must be flawless. For the case of the diary and the ring, I’ll have to also cast a few spells and rune magic to maintain its dark nature. Therefore, it would still allow the past Harry to seemingly destroy the diary and Dumbledore would still end up cursed, which would still lead to his death…I know this may make anyone uneasy, so I will perform the magic myself, the rest of us will just make the switch. "

Ron nodded slowly, though his expression was still one of concern. "So, who goes where?"

Genevieve unfolded a piece of parchment on the table, revealing a detailed plan. "Harry and Hermione will retrieve the diary from the Chamber of Secrets. Ron and I will handle the ring at the Gaunt shack. Nagini will stay here to monitor our temporal positions and ensure we all return safely."

Nagini, her voice smooth and calm, added, "I'll be your anchor. My connection to Voldemort's magic gives me a unique sense of the Horcruxes' presence. I can guide you back if anything goes wrong."

Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione. "How close to the actual times are we talking?" Genevieve traced a line on the parchment. "For the diary, just a few days before Harry destroyed it in the Chamber. For the ring, moments before Dumbledore retrieved it. Close enough to minimize the risk of detection, but not so close that we can’t avoid our past selves."

Hermione bit her lip. "But what if something goes wrong? What if we can't switch them in time?"

"We’ll have contingency plans," Genevieve assured her. "We’ll carry a small reserve of Polyjuice Potion, and I have a few spells up my sleeve that can buy us some time. But we must stay focused and move quickly."

Ron, though still looking hesitant, finally spoke up. "Alright. But what about the ripple effects? How do we deal with those?"

Genevieve smiled reassuringly. "The ripple effects will be minimal if we do this correctly. By transfiguring the damaged Horcruxes and replacing them at the exact moments, the timeline will remain stable. The key is precision and speed."

Harry nodded, the resolve in his eyes clear. "We can do this. We have to."

Hermione took a deep breath, her determination shining through. "I'm with you."

Ron, though still a bit nervous, squared his shoulders. "Count me in."

Genevieve looked at them with pride. "Then it's settled. We leave tomorrow at dawn. Prepare yourselves and get some rest. This will require all our strength and focus." The group dispersed to their respective rooms, each lost in their thoughts. As Genevieve watched them go, she felt a surge of hope.With careful planning and a bit of luck, they would retrieve the Horcruxes. The clock ticked softly in the background, a reminder of the time that was both their enemy and their ally. But for now, they had a plan. 

The library of Grimmauld Place seemed to shimmer as the group activated their Time-Turners. The air around Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Genevieve swirled with a golden light, the familiar sensation of time travel pulling them away from the present. The room blurred, and their surroundings changed in an instant. 

Harry and Hermione found themselves standing in a dark, damp corridor deep beneath Hogwarts: the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. The musty smell of ancient stone filled their nostrils as they took in their surroundings. Simultaneously, Ron and Genevieve landed outside the decrepit Gaunt shack. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the overgrown grass whispered under their feet as they approached the door.

Nagini watched the clock intently, her eyes never leaving the second hand as it ticked. She held her own charm tightly, ready to respond to any signal from the group, or to send a signal the second danger was prevalent.

Harry glanced at Hermione, who nodded. "Let's move quickly," he whispered.

They pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the Chamber. The air was filled with the eerie echo of their footsteps. Ahead of them lay the lifeless body of the basilisk, and on the far end of the room stood the statue of Salazar Slytherin, with the small, black diary lying on the floor.

Harry pointed to the diary. "There it is. Just like we planned."

As they started moving towards the diary, they heard a faint echo of voices from the entrance to the Chamber. Harry’s heart sank as he recognized the voice—his own, younger self.

"Quick, hide!" Harry hissed. They ducked behind the nearest column just as younger Harry and Ginny, accompanied by the shade of Tom Riddle, entered the Chamber. The younger Harry was trying to save Ginny, oblivious to the presence of their older counterparts.

Hermione’s eyes widened. "We can't let them see us."

They watched as the younger Harry ran towards the exit, only to be halted by the menacing figure of Tom Riddle, who began to taunt him. The older Harry and Hermione had to wait for the right moment, staying hidden in the shadows.

As Riddle’s taunting grew louder, the older Harry saw his opportunity. He turned to Hermione. "We need a distraction." Hermione nodded and whispered an incantation. A small explosion echoed through the Chamber, causing younger Harry and Riddle to look towards the source of the noise. Taking advantage of the distraction, older Harry dashed towards the diary. However, as he reached out, the giant serpent began to stir. The basilisk’s eyes flickered open, and it hissed in rage, sensing an intruder.

"Hermione, the basilisk!" Harry yelled, keeping his eyes averted.

Hermione quickly cast a series of blinding spells towards the basilisk, attempting to drive it away without looking directly at it. The basilisk, now enraged, slithered towards the source of the spells, buying Harry precious seconds. He grabbed the diary and swiftly replaced it with the transfigured version. Just as he completed the switch, the basilisk lunged at him, forcing him to dive out of the way.

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Riddle’s shade notice the commotion. The older Harry had to remain unseen; any interference could jeopardize their mission. He scrambled back to Hermione, who was still battling the basilisk’s attention.

"Let's get out of here," Harry said, his voice tense and urgent.

They moved stealthily towards the exit, but as they approached, the younger Harry turned around, sensing movement. Hermione quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm, making them blend into the surroundings just in time.

The younger Harry shook his head, dismissing it as a trick of the light, and continued his confrontation with Riddle. The older Harry and Hermione edged past them, hearts pounding, until they were finally clear of the Chamber.

"That was too close," Hermione whispered, still shaking from the encounter.

Harry nodded, holding the intact diary tightly. "But we did it. We got the diary." They hurried back to their Time-Turner rendezvous point, ready to return to the present with their prize. Despite the close calls and the danger, they had succeeded in their mission, leaving the timeline intact and the Horcrux safely in their possession.

Meanwhile, Ron and Genevieve crept into the dilapidated shack, the air thick with the smell of rot. The interior was dark and foreboding, with broken furniture and debris scattered across the floor.

"Stay close," Genevieve whispered. "The ring should be hidden somewhere inside." They carefully navigated the shack, every creak of the floorboards making Ron's heart race. Suddenly, they heard a rustling sound from one of the corners.

Ron froze. "What was that?"

Genevieve motioned for silence and slowly approached the source of the noise. She found an old, ragged cloak covering a small box. Inside, the ring lay nestled in a pile of dusty rags.

"I found it," she whispered, carefully removing the ring and replacing it with the transfigured replica. "Let's get out of here before—", A loud crash echoed through the shack as a piece of the ceiling gave way. Ron and Genevieve jumped back, their hearts pounding.

"Time to go," Ron said, his voice shaking.

They hurried out of the shack, the ring safely in Genevieve's possession. As they reached their rendezvous point, they activated their Time-Turners, ready to return to the present.

Nagini’s eyes remained fixed on the clock. The seconds felt like hours as she waited for any sign from the group. Suddenly, her charm began to glow softly, signaling that they were returning.

In a rush of golden light, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Genevieve reappeared in the library of Grimmauld Place. They were slightly disoriented but relieved to be back. Nagini immediately rushed to their side, her eyes scanning each of them for any signs of trouble.

"Did everything go as planned?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Harry nodded, holding up the intact diary. "We got it."

Ron grinned, pulling the ring from his pocket. "And this too. Everything went smoothly."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders relaxing. "No disruptions. We made the switches perfectly."

Genevieve smiled, a hint of pride in her eyes. "Excellent work, everyone. We did it."

Nagini’s tense expression softened into a smile. "Well done. Now, let's secure these Horcruxes and find the last one, so we can get this thing out of me." The group shared a collective sigh of relief, the weight of their mission lifting. They had succeeded in their perilous journey into the past, retrieving the crucial Horcruxes without altering the fabric of time.

Taglist: @wheenerrr @jillian2003 @secretkittydreamland

Tom Riddle Masterlist

© coolbeans32 2024

[sattlite]

Pairing: Jesse X Walt

Format: One-shot

Warning(s): Breaking bad spoilers! Mentions of alcohol, grief, trauma.

Words: 770

English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes...

It had been weeks since Jesse had shown up for work. Since Jane's death, he hadn't answered calls, hadn't answered the door. But this time it would be different. Walter White was full of it and wouldn't leave Jesse's door until he showed up.

Getting out of his car furiously, Walt marched up to the door of Jesse's apartment, not hesitating to knock on the door sharply.

"Come on, Jesse! I know you're there! I saw your car parked on the street a few days ago!", Walt knocked brutally on the door, but heard no response. Frustrated, he pushed forward and kicked the door, causing it to give way.

The sight that opened before him was bleak. The apartment was dirty and smelly, bottles of cheap beer littered the floor, and Jesse, a mere specter of who he used to be, was slumped under a mattress, surrounded by a sea of empty bottles.

"Jesse... What is this? I've been trying to contact you for weeks!", Walt kicked the bottles away from Jesse. "But every time I knock on your door, you find a way to make me leave. But not today, Jesse. This ends now!"

Walt grabbed the bottle Jesse was holding, trying to stop him from consuming any more alcohol. A silent conflict unfolded between the two, each fighting their own demons.

"Let go, Jesse! Give me that bottle now!", Walt pulled the bottle against his stomach so that Jesse couldn't take it away from him, but Jesse resisted.

Finally, Jesse pulled his hands away from Walt's, exhausted. Walt noticed how thin and dirty Jesse was, a shadow of the man he used to be.

"Oh my God, Jesse! How long has it been since you took a shower?", Walt frowned, smelling the nauseating smell of the apartment.

"Go ahead, throw the shit I do in my face, do like everyone else, Mr. White!", Jesse looked into Walt's eyes angrily, his voice shrill.

"Stop the drama, Jesse. You think everyone hates you, but I'm here now, aren't I?", Walt tried to calm things down.

"I don't need anyone, Mr. Walt. I just needed her... and I screwed up. I failed her!", Tears streamed down Jesse's face.

"Jesse...she wasn't good for you. She needed to go!", Walt tried to comfort Jesse.

"What the fuck are you talking about? She loved me, I LOVED HER!", Jesse exploded with emotion.

"Okay, so let's assume she was still here, but would you still be? Wake up, this toxic relationship of yours was going to end you. I'm just saying what's best for you, Jesse."

"How could you know what's best for me? You weren't even here when I needed you...", Jesse was desperate, pacing from one side to the other, frustrated.

"But I'm here now, aren't I? I always take hours out of my day to help you, Jesse. I've always supported you...", Walt tried to make himself understood, slowly approaching Jesse.

"I-I think you better get out of here... I don't need a babysitter!", Jesse was reluctant, but with Mr. White present, it was difficult not to give in.

"There's nothing wrong with being protected sometimes, Jesse. I never regretted spending hours and hours with you in that shitty lab.", Walt moved closer, feeling the heat of Jesse's body.

"What are you trying to say, Mr. White... that y-you care about me? Oh, please...", Jesse looked away, but was stopped when Walt's hands grabbed his waist, pulling him towards him. close.

"Jesse...I've always cared."

Walt brought his lips closer to Jesse's, introducing his tongue with delicacy and intensity. Jesse, surprised but not resisting, placed his hands on Walt's jaw, responding to the kiss.

For a moment, Walt forgot to maintain the Heisenberg pose. There, in the middle of that dirty apartment, among the ruins of their lives, they found a brief moment of genuine connection. The barriers fell, and they both allowed themselves to feel, allowed themselves to be vulnerable.

When they pulled away, Jesse looked into Walt's eyes, a mixture of gratitude and surprise in his gaze.

"I... I don't know what to say, Mr. White", Jesse murmured, moved.

Walter placed a hand on Jesse's face, stroking his dirty cheek. "You don't have to say anything, Jesse. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, always have been."

They stood there, on the threshold between the past and the uncertain future, but together. For a moment, Jesse allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. And Walter, despite all his demons, was that light.

[usmsgutterson]

Hey !! I’d like to request Jesper finding the reader in a depressive episode, like they‘ve been in bed all week, their room is a mess, they haven’t changed clothes, and their hair has started to become matted, something that’s more focused on the “gross” side of depression. Also I call the emoji alien emoji or pixel emoji :^) - 👾

Brighter Days- J.F x gn! reader

Okay, hi! This took me longer than I anticipated because I wrote relentlessly for three days straight and then was shocked when I fell into a bit of a writing slump and the exhaustion from the cold I've been dealing with for the past week or so finally got to me, so I'm sorry that writing this has taken me a bit.

Your other requests will probably come out closer to the end of the week if not the weekend, but yeah! Thank you for being so patient with me, it means a lot :)

Fic type- this is hurt/comfort with fluffy undertones

Warnings- jespers guns are mentioned, the reader is depicted exactly as requested, matting has started in their hair, their room is a mess. This is not an attempt to glorify depression on my end but rather a reminder that you don't have to suffer alone all the time, and if this romanticizes depression in anyway, I apologize and feel free to reach out and let me know so that I can make the necessary adjustments.

None of the crows had heard from you in weeks. It’d started when you’d turned down a job that you wouldn’t’ve, ordinarily. When you made up an excuse as to why you wouldn’t be able to do it and called it a day.

Then, when Jesper and the rest of the crows got home and Jesper didn’t find you on the bottom floor of the Slat, drinking a brandy or working behind the bar, regretting your having decided to skip out on the trip and the excellent money that came from it, he had the first idea that something could’ve been wrong. 

Even when you had nothing of real significance to do on the bottom floor of the Slat, you could always be found at a table in the corner, drinking your iced drink or alcohol of choice in the spring and summer, your hot drink of choice in the winter and fall. You’d always be reading, an oil lamp to illuminate your space placed onto the table at which you sat, the book you’d chosen sitting in the way you preferred as you read and occasionally annotated.

It’d been six weeks since Jesper had last seen you, and when he asked around, he found out that it’d been at least a week and a half since anyone had last seen you. 

You’d made a run to the shops while, according to Pim, looking fresh off a long cry, and nobody had seen you since you’d gotten back, a few bags with the essentials draped over your arms. 

Jesper immediately made it his prerogative to see if you were okay, and as he walked to your room on the third floor, some part of him wondered if the reason you hadn’t been seen was because you’d decided that Ketterdam was no longer your home and left, picked up a boat ticket or smuggled yourself on a cargo ship headed off somewhere like Ravka. 

“Y/N?” He asked, one hand ghosting the doorknob. You didn’t respond, and Jesper took hold of the doorknob anyway. He twisted it to the right, finding that it opened, the door having been unlocked.

Jesper stepped into the room carefully, taking it in as his eyes searched for yours in the darkened room, the only light having been the spring sun coasting in through the small window that sat near the ceiling. 

The room was a mess, trash and belongings alike scattered over the floor. You looked like you’d been crying, your hair beginning to mat in some spots. A dent had been made in your pillow where your head had rested most of the time, and Jesper had to wonder how long it’d been since you’d gotten out, stretched your legs and shook out the tension in your arms and back.

“Oh, you weren’t supposed to see me like this,” you said as you met his gaze. “I should’ve kept track of the days.”

“I would love you if we were stuck together in a dumpster,” Jesper said. “I can handle this, Y/N. Will you let me help?” 

“Jesper, no,” you said. “I can’t--you shouldn’t have to help me. I could barely get up for a week and a half. Let me clean up the mess when I’m the one who made it.”

“If I say no and I offer a kiss, what are my chances then?” He asked as you willed yourself to sit up, moving until your back was against the wall, your legs criss-cross on the bed. 

You hummed, pretending to think about it as you registered the dryness in your throat, the ache of your limbs and the exhaustion that you felt from having spent so long trying to fight your own mind. 

Four weeks, you’d managed, without slipping into the beginnings of a depressive episode. 

Week five came, you grabbed what you needed when you wanted to feel the sun against your skin and see if the vitamin D would be of any help. The depressive episode had begun in the middle of that week.

Week six donned on you and you could barely fathom the idea that you had to keep fighting against yourself to keep breathing, to keep blinking, to avoid just sinking into your mattress and ceasing to exist. 

“No,” you said, trying to bring an air of finality to your tone but finding that you just wanted to sink into your mattress and cease to exist. “No, Jesper.”

“I love you more than words can ever express properly,” Jesper said. “Which is why I’m going to spray one of my shirts with some of my cologne, get you a towel, and leave clothes by the shower. What I do while you're showering is my decision, and you don’t owe me anything for it. Does that work?” 

You sighed. “I know what it looks like when I’m being tricked, Fahey,” you said, though the shower was tempting, and you knew that you needed to brush your hair anyway. “But fine. And, for the record, I will be buying you whiskey at the Crow Club and coffee when we meet the others for breakfast at least until June. You’re the love of my life, and if you get to clean my room when I’m at my worst, I get to buy you coffee and whiskey.” 

Jesper hummed, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered before parting, heading to his room to grab one of his shirts, a towel, and a bottle of his cologne. 

You stood carefully, moved to your bathroom.

It was nothing more than a bathtub with a showerhead, a toilet and a basin with a mirror mounted to the wall above it, but the water worked and the temp was adjustable, a luxury that was ill afforded in the Barrel, and the mirror had never fallen off the wall and taken a piece of the wall with it, which wasn't something that many who were apart of the Barrel gangs and lived in their bases could say.

You turned on the water, made sure you had the soaps you needed, and stripped, stepping under the showerhead once the water had warmed up to your preference. You spent a long few minutes just standing under the water, feeling the warmth surround you as you pressed your forehead against the tiled walls. 

You registered, for the first time in a week and a half, it felt like you could breathe again. Breathing properly, breathing and acknowledging the weight of your lungs, the feeling of your skin and the heaviness of your heart, it was something you’d done over the past week and a half, something that had felt like a chore but in that moment felt like a blessing from the saints themselves. 

You washed up, stayed in the shower until your hands had pruned while trying to work out the beginnings of the mats that’d developed in your hair while it was soaked. 

When you stepped out, you found that Jesper had placed a towel atop the toilet seat, a pair of black cargo pants and a maroon Ketterdam University sweater beneath it.

You wrapped the towel around your body and found the comb that you’d used to detangle your hair in situations that were much like that one, used it until your hair was smooth, the mats that you’d begun ridding your hair of in the shower having smoothed out after a bit of fuss. 

You dried your hair off using the flip side of the towel and got dressed in the clothes Jesper had placed on the toilet seat, the distinct smell of his cologne combined with gun smoke from how frequently he'd used his revolvers meeting your nostrils as you pulled the sweater over your torso. 

You stepped out of the bathroom and back into your room as Jesper handed a garbage bag off to Matthias and another to Wylan.

“Hey,” you whispered into the open air.

“Hey love,” Jesper said, turning to you with a grin on his face. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Better than I did two hours ago,” you responded. “I still feel like shit and I’m convinced I’ll remain in this perpetual state of exhaustion forever, but thank you for all that you’ve done for me.” 

“You would’ve done the same,” Jesper said. “I’ve got your six, love. Even when you’re at your worst.” 

You stepped forward, pulling Jesper into a tight hug at that. You pulled away after a few minutes, let him press another kiss to your forehead before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

Nothing was fixed, really. You still felt like shit and you knew that it would last at least another few weeks as depressive episodes always did, but you had people, you had at least one person, who cared enough to help you and love you even when he’d walked into your room and found it looking a mess. That, in that moment, was all you cared to think about, in the arms of the guy you loved with knowledge that brighter days were ahead. 

[daydreamgoddess14]

First Impressions - Chapter 6

Thanks for hanging on! I've been away this week, so writing this took the whole time - fresh air and kids are exhausting 🤣

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5

masterlist

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The van had moved again after the stop at the services, but not far. After what only felt like a few miles, they pulled up again but the doors remained firmly closed.

“How many d'ya think there are?” Gary asked.

“No idea,” Lexie pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. “Half a dozen?”

“More than, I bet.” He disputed. “Bet they're gonna put us on a boat and sell us on the mainland.”

“Sell us for what?” Rach sighed. “No offence, Gaz, but I don't think we'd be worth much to anyone. My back's knackered.” He held her eye for slightly longer than needed, until she turned to Lexie. “How about you ma'am, any nifty tricks that'll propel you to sex work stardom?”

“I think in these circumstances, you can just call me Lexie. And no, almost certainly not. I think you're right, we're way out of the age range these idiots go for, by about 30 years.” They grimaced at each other. Lexie watched as Rach's gaze flicked to Gary and then back again, followed by an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

“I'm starving,” Gary grumbled. “Those sandwiches were crap.” Lexie watched him for a moment as he fiddled again with the cable ties on his ankles. She compared them with her own which were beginning to rub uncomfortably against her skin. His seemed far looser.

“Me too, can't remember the last time I ate.” She agreed, keeping the conversation flowing while his eyes stayed on the cable ties. She looked back at Rach and nodded her head toward their feet next to each other's but a small distance from Gary's.

“I'd love a burger.” Rach joined in. Lexie let her take the lead in the conversation while she turned over everything she knew about the support teams.

“I had amazing tapas once at a restaurant in Manchester. God, I wish I could remember the name of the place. It was a good night out though.” Lexie said.

“Oh it's so good, some of the best clubs I think I've ever been to. Bet you love it up there, Gaz?” The question caught him off guard,

“Uhh yeah, yeah. Been a long time since I went out on the town, like.”

“You got a good team up there?” Lexie asked.

“Great bunch, really good.” He concurred.

“Have you met Ben Warren?” Rach asked, curiously. “He moved up there a few year ago, drugs task force I think it was.” Gary looked thoughtfully,

“I do know him, yeah.”

“Proper MET hot shot. Then his daughter had twins and he wanted to live closer to them.”

“He's a gem. Real good copper.” Lexie and Rach both hummed in agreement.

“Remember that operation last year, the blitz on knives?” Rach asked, raising an eyebrow towards Lexie.

“Yeah, we stopped literally every man and his dog, the paperwork was a nightmare for months. We got the idea from your lot, were you involved in that, Gaz?” He floundered.

“Oh ermm, think I might have been on leave.”

“Really? I must have it wrong then, I thought they'd cancelled all leave for everyone.”

“Special circumstances. Me old dad was dying.”

“Oh Gary, I'm so sorry.” Rach sympathised. Silence descended again.

“Nah, fuck it. I can't do this all bloody day. You know, don't you?” Gary said suddenly, his eyes snapping up to Lexie.

“Course we do, it's our job. Ben Warren's been dead five years.” Rach scoffed, all niceness gone.

“So what's the grand plan, Gaz?” Lexie sighed. “Did you always intend to take a couple of us?”

“Nah, that was just an added bonus. We knew you lot was coming. I took myself off to the hotel the Manchester lot were staying in last night and sat in the bar just close enough to hear every word. Then we thought we should respond in kind as it were, so we filled the warehouse an waited for you bunch of dickheads to show up.”

“And now you're scratting around trying to work out what to do with us.” Rach supplied with an eyeroll.

“Oh I've got plenty of ideas of what I'm gonna do with you, darlin’,” he sneered.

“Come near either of us and I'll feed you your own bollocks.” Lexie offered.

“We'll see sweetheart, bet you love it rough. Anyway, fuck this, I've had enough playing nice with you pair.” He whacked the door of the van and sunlight filled the small space. Hands reached in and cut the ties on his feet and hands. The door slammed behind him.

“Ugh, shit.” Rach groaned. “This is just great.”

“This is better than the alternative.” Lexie said firmly.

“How so?”

“We assumed this was always the plan and they intended to take us to the mainland. If this is all done on the fly then they have no idea what to do with us, no plan to smuggle us. It's too much hassle taking us to Europe, whatever they decide it'll be here.” Lexie pointed out.

“So it's more likely that they'll kill us.”

“More likely they'll try. Knowing gormless Gary is involved, we have half a chance of fighting back. They don't know their arse from their elbow and I'm pissed off we didn't get them sooner.” Lexie said, her anger building.

“Gormless is right.” Rach half shouted, hoping he'd hear. “God, these cable ties are killing my ankles.”

“We need a plan for when they come back. God knows how we're going to get out of here with our ankles tied.” Lexie sighed, rubbing the raw skin gently. They leaned against the van, side by side, both lost in thought. Lexie closed her eyes, picturing River’s mournful look from the previous night. She desperately wanted them to laugh together when she ended up proving him wrong. She'd tease him about it and he'd half-heartedly threaten to pin her down until she stopped and then, and then, and then. She thought about how much she regretted leaving, how she wished instead that they'd made up and she could have lost herself in him and how his body felt under her touch. Next to her, Rach huffed and fidgeted, dragging her back to reality and away from the memories of River's eyes gazing into hers.

“Sharp bit here,” she said quietly, moving her hands back and forth. “Nearly got it.” Lexie watched until Rach's hands sprang apart. They both looked over her sore wrists for signs of damage and blistered skin, then she took Lexie's and put them in the same spot, moving them over the jagged piece of metal. It was hard work and Lexie's skin burned under the plastic digging into her skin. Finally her hands popped apart and she felt cool air sting the wounds. They pulled at the binds on their ankles but the cable ties seemed to tighten instead.

“Put your feet here, I'll try and move them over the metal.” Lexie held Rach's boot caps up but it was slow going.

“I didn't know I had this many muscles in my arse.” She complained. “Distract me, boss, what's the plan”

“Get our feet loose, next time the doors open, we jump them. Kick, bite, scratch, whatever we can do with surprise on our side. Make as much noise as humanly possible. I can hear a road not too far away, hopefully we're public enough to get the attention of passing cars.”

“They've got guns.” Rach said nervously.

“So don't get shot.” Lexie said with a wry smile.

“Oh thanks, great idea! I'll bear that in mind.” Rach shuffled next to Lexie. “Think they're looking for us?”

“Course they are. Andy won't rest till he gets us back.”

“Anyone else expecting you today?”

“My …” Lexie paused, the word ‘boyfriend’ on the tip of her tongue. “River. My boyfriend, I guess? We didn't part on the best terms last night.”

“Yeah my kids were not happy about a granny sleepover. And I couldn't exactly go into detail when they asked why I was telling them how much I love them. They think I'm a right sappy git.”

“I've never told River,” Lexie admitted. “I thought I would last night but then I left. I shouldn't have left.”

“I'm sure he knows.” Rach said kindly.

“We need to get out of here. Make a run for it as soon as those doors open again.”

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

“Fuuuuuuck!” Roddy and Shirley looked on as River moved away from the group. He kicked his car tire, beat his hands on the bonnet and paced the lay by. They'd only been parked up for a few minutes, most of which he'd spent with Andy and other senior MET officers. He'd shook their hands and introduced the Slow Horses team and they'd swapped knowledge. Once the extent of the mole’s activities became known, River had trouble hiding his anger.

“Anger issues much?” Shirley muttered, mostly to herself. Finally, he regained control and joined them again.

“So, where do we start?” He asked, dragging his hand through his hair. Roddy turned back to his laptop.

“I've got ‘em leaving the services and then… nothing.” He complained.

“Roddy, a van cannot just ‘disappear’.” Shirley insisted.

“Obviously it ain't disappeared, I just can't find it right now. Went through a trading estate after the services didn't they, and there was about 15 other vans driving out at the same time. I've gotta go through them one by one.” Roddy reasoned.

“They've finished interviews with the ones we got at the warehouse. Not one of them had a clue why officers were taken, half of ‘em were only roped in last night.” Andy explained as he made his way to join them.

“So they've been watching you. Waiting for you to make the move.” River guessed.

“Sounds that way, one of ‘em spent last night with our mysterious Gary in the bar of a Premier Inn last night. Guess who else was staying there?”

“Your drafted support?”

“Bingo.”

“You spend weeks watching them while they watch you and when you're ready to go, so are they. They could have been shadowing any of our officers and you know how they all like to talk even when they're not supposed to.” Another detective chimed in.

“So have you got whoever's supposed to be in charge? Do they even know what their so-called security are doing?” River asked, his volume rising with his anger.

“Not bein’ funny mate, but these idiots sound like a shower of shit and you lot can't even keep up with ‘em?” Shirley stood shoulder to shoulder with River and pointed a fierce finger at Andy and the few officers with him. “You expect us to believe that this is some fuckin’ mastermind gang smuggling kids to Europe for sex when really it's Gary from the sodding pub and a few of his mates?”

“I know how it looks,-” Andy interjected.

“I don't think you do, pal.” Shirley finished.

“Look, they have a lot of people working for them, a lot of fingers in a lot of pies. If they've been watching us then they've obviously filled the warehouse with lackeys and nobodies to slow us down. God knows if their top brass even has any idea what's happened this morning but that doesn't matter, we'll pick up the pieces of that later. I just want to get Lexie and the officer with her out of here. Can we please just focus on that for now?” They maintained a silent standoff, River weighing his anger and frustration with his worry for Lexie. Eventually, Shirley aimed a sharp kick at his ankle,

“Shit, Shirley! Yes, fine.” He responded petulantly.

“Right, now the dick measuring is over, shall we find this fucking van, Ho?”

“I am fucking trying, Shirley.” Roddy stressed. “I think I've narrowed down an area to search?” He offered to Andy,

“I'll get a team ready, just let me know.”

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

The light filtering through gaps in the van bodywork had faded considerably. Lexie heard shuffling outside the van and pointed Rach to the door. They nodded in agreement and braced for the door to open. As soon as it did, Lexie kicked out, the force of the kick causing the door to swing back out and make contact with the person opening it.

“Ow, fuck!” A voice yelled out in pain. The door moved to close again but Lexie kicked it again. She pushed hard against it and jumped down into a clearing in the woodland. Rach was right behind her and they quickly formed a back to back stance to see around them. The person the door had hit was getting unsteadily to their feet in Rach's eyeline. She moved from her position to aim a knee at their balls before following Lexie into the dense trees.

“Stop, sshhh, need to hear the road.” Lexie stopped suddenly after a few hundred metres. They listened intently then both immediately turned left, “I can hear voices in the clearing.” Rach grimaced and continued towards the road noise.

“S'not motorway, it's not continuous traffic.” Rach breathed heavily alongside her. They tried to put as much distance as possible between them and the voices behind but the terrain was tricky with tree roots and ditches tripping them constantly. It was getting darker and the trees blocked any remaining daylight. Behind them, they could hear branches breaking and voices getting louder.

“They're getting closer,” Lexie puffed, her sides ached with stitch and her lungs burned with effort. She reached for Rach's hand and pulled her along. “C'mon, keep going.”

“Thought this road was closer.” Rach complained, she took another stride forwards and into arms reach of a man coming out from behind a tree.

“You fuckin’ wish piggy.” He sneered, gripping the tops of her arms.

“Run, Lex!” She bellowed before twisting her head to bite her attacker's hand. Lexie lunged for the man, aiming a kick at his knees. Behind her, she felt hands grab at her waist to stop her,

“Yeah Lex, run!” Gary took her arm and twisted it behind her. Rach was fighting her attacker, aiming kicks and punches wherever she could. Lexie stamped her foot down, aiming for Gary's but he turned himself away, taking her with him and leaving her knee in agony at the abnormal angle.

“Dog walker has just called in shouting and commotion in woodland about 4 miles from here,” Andy called out. The sudden increase in activity was staggering, a fleet of police cars joined them in the lay-by along with 3 ambulances and a van with police dogs. “The helicopter is going up now, we'll have confirmation on direction in about 3 minutes.” They all piled into cars and with instruction from the helicopter, all moved out in convoy. “They'll see the chopper and know we're coming but from what we can tell there are 4-5 men holding Lexie and Rach so this should have a straight forward resolution.” Andy said over the radio Shirley had been handed.

“Straight forward my arse,” she muttered in the privacy of River’s car.

“Anyone else think going in so loud and hard is a way to cover up the mistakes from this morning?” Roddy asked.

“Yeah, make it look like the resource was all worth it.” Shirley agreed. River gritted his teeth and followed the dog unit, peering up at the helicopter over their heads.

Rach heard it first, widening her eyes at Lexie who elbowed Gary in the stomach to wind him enough to finally silence him for a minute. The unmistakable sound of a helicopter somewhere above them. With the promise of the cavalry on its way, they both attacked with fresh force. Lexie used Gary’s momentary discomfort to her advantage, turned on her heels and aimed a well placed punch to his jaw. Rach wiggled and kicked her legs until her attacker was forced to drop her then she grasped at Lexie's jacket and pulled her. They ran through the woods until they heard a shot ring out behind them. Rach squealed and they dived for cover along the trees. Another shot behind them made them jump.

“We've got to go, they're getting closer and next time they won't miss.” Lexie warned.

“Fuck! I wish we knew how far away help is. What if it's just the chopper?”

“It can't be, they must know we're here somewhere. We could be 3 minutes from safety or 3 hours.” Lexie looked at her watch, “It's been all day, we have to assume they're close.”

“Ok. Ok, you're right, let's go.” Rach pushed off the tree and ahead of Lexie by a handful of steps when the next shot flew through the trees. Lexie watched as Rach staggered forward a few feet with an anguished look.

“Shit, Rach!” Lexie shrieked, rushing to her colleague. She slipped under Rach's arm to hold her up and half dragged her along. More shots fired behind them.

“Chopper has got two separate heat sources, one getting closer to where our cars have positioned, one further behind and that's a bigger group. Shots fired, repeat, shots fired.” A voice barked over the radio. River's foot inched the pedal closer to the floor.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he beat the steering wheel with his fist.

“There, on the right,” Shirley pointed out the convening police vehicles and River brought the car to a sudden halt. The ignition was barely off when he jumped out of the car and ran towards the officers receiving their briefing.

“We caught two in the clearing with the van, they've already confirmed three more out in the woods, armed and chasing down our two officers. They waited for the van to open, knocked one of these idiots out with the door and made a run for it. When the other four got back to the clearing, one stayed with their injured mate and the others took the guns and went after Lexie and Rach. Multiple shots have been fired so we are to assume the worst here, expect our officers to be injured at the very least. We've got one team heading into the woods from here, in the direction of the clearing and one team are currently in the clearing heading in this direction.” With the closer distance, more shots could be heard. “We're going in loud and fast, it's getting dark so we need to wrap this up now.” Andy was at the forefront of the group about to leave, he gave River a nod and began making his way through the undergrowth. Without any jurisdiction, River held back with the officers remaining at the roadside. He tried to ignore the looming ambulances directly behind him, desperately hoping they wouldn't be needed.

With her knee in more pain with each step, dragging Rach was beginning to take it's toll on Lexie. Both women were covered in scratches from the branches surrounding them and the woodland seemed to get denser and darker every few meters. Sweat poured from Lexie as she pulled an increasingly pale Rach along with her, the blood from the gunshot wound on Rach's upper thigh covered them both.

“C'mon Rach, nearly there.” Lexie grunted.

“I can't keep going Lex, you should go,” Rach protested weakly.

“The fuck I should. We're really close babe, come on now,” Lexie adjusted get grip and pulled again, trying to keep them both as low as she could and away from stray bullets. The undergrowth meant Gary and his friends could see very little into the distance and were blindly shooting in the hope of hitting something. It also meant Lexie could barely see past the next line of trees and bushes.

“This is the police, get on your knees now!” Andy’s voice bellowed only a few meters in front of them. Lexie and Rach had been crashing so noisily through the woodland that she hadn't heard anyone approach them.

“Fuck, Andy is that you?” She called out coming to a painful stop.

“Lex? Confirm I.D?”

“D.I Alexandria Andrews, MET police, Sergeant Rachel Norman, MET police. Alone and unarmed, injuries sustained.” She shouted clearly, her voice cracking.

“Confirmed. Lex stay there, I'm just a couple of meters ahead of you.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Rach sobbed as Lexie swayed on the spot, tears welling up at the sound of Andy’s voice. As he reached them, Lexie crumpled to the ground with Rach as they clung together.

“God you're a sight for sore eyes.” He beamed as he approached them with another officer. The remaining members of his team filed past them and continued towards the clearing where they'd convene with the other group. “It's OK, Gary and his pals will be surrounded any minute now. There's a lot more of us.” He crouched down to reassure them. “Injuries?”

“Me, shot in the thigh.” Rach shivered.

“Ok, Patrick here is going to help you to the road. I promise it's not far, and we've got an ambulance waiting.” The other officer shook off his jacket and put it on Rach before pulling her to her feet and through the trees. Rach gave a last small smile to Lexie,

“Thanks boss.” She said quietly, letting Patrick lead the way.

“And you?” Andy asked Lexie, helping her up.

“Bad knee, a few cuts and bruises.” He offered her his arm which she gratefully took.

At the roadside, River kicked at the weeds waiting for something, anything, to happen.

“Cartwright,” Ho called out as soon as he saw movement in the trees and people emerging. He watched a young woman he didn't recognise fall gratefully onto an ambulance trolley and then finally saw Andy leading Lexie into the bright headlights and spotlights of the gathered patrol cars and vans. She leaned into him with a heavy limp and all River could see was blood.

“Lexie!” He shouted, dodging people and cars to reach her, his hands cupped her face, searching for signs of pain.

“I'm OK, not my blood,” she assured him, resting her forehead against his. Andy gently let her go.

“You got her, mate?” He asked River who nodded in response.

“I've got her,” he mumbled into her hairline, “I've got you, love.” Everything he wanted to say was on the tip of his tongue.

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

Chapter 7

[mimisempai]

All those words I almost didn't say

Summary

After one of the most traumatic days of his life, Greg is about to take a well-deserved rest when the doorbell rings. The day is about to take a much happier turn.

Notes

Mystrade Monday  1.0  #46 - "I thought you were dead"

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

On AO3

669 words - Rating G

"Detective Lestrade, after your bravery today, I want you to take a week's leave."

Greg, too emotionally exhausted, didn't even protest and nodded to the Superintendent before leaving his office.

An hour later, he was finally home, dressed in comfortable clothes, beer in hand, about to sit down when the doorbell rang.

He sighed, put his beer down on the coffee table, and looked through the glass to see who was there to bother him.

Seeing who it was, he muttered, "Damn it, Mycroft, I forgot to call him."

Words of apology on his lips, he opened the door, but he didn't have time to say anything because no sooner had he opened it than he found himself in a powerful embrace, pressed against Mycroft's chest.

"Mycroft, what..." he managed to articulate.

But Mycroft cut him off, saying in a trembling voice, "I thought you were dead. For a brief moment I actually thought I was watching you die live and there was nothing I could do."

Greg had never seen Mycroft like that, shaking, his throat so tight with emotion that he almost choked on the last words.

Greg managed to break free of the embrace and said quietly, "I know... thank my Kevlar vest for that,  I can imagine what it must have looked like from the outside. I'm sorry with everything that happened and the chain of events, I completely forgot to call you and I just got home."

Greg knew there had been a lot of media coverage of the hostage situation, but he'd refused to look at the footage. Who wanted to see themselves shot in the chest, even if it had been stopped by a bulletproof vest?

The bruise that began to form on his chest was proof enough.

He continued, "I promise I'm okay. I'm all right."

But Mycroft wasn't listening and said quietly, "Show me."

Greg lifted his shirt and showed him where the impact had occurred. 

Mycroft ran his finger gently over the small bruise and breathed, "I almost lost you."

Greg interrupted, "But you didn't..."

Mycroft put his finger to Greg's lips and interrupted, "Let me speak. I have to tell you."

Greg looked at him puzzled, but said nothing.

Mycroft took Greg's face in his hands and said firmly, "When I thought you were dead, I realized there was so much I wanted you to know that I hadn't been able to tell you. That these last few months with you have been the happiest of my life. That I don't want to spend another minute away from you. I'm in love with you, mightily, painfully in love. The things you do. The way you think. The way you move. I get thrilled every time I'm about to see you. I feel like I've never felt in my life. You have to know all of that."

No sooner had he finished speaking than he gave Greg no time to react, pressing his lips to his lover's in a kiss filled with the same intensity as the words he'd just spoken. Greg instinctively wrapped his arms around Mycroft's waist, deepening the kiss. 

Every time Mycroft felt Greg trying to pull away, Mycroft would press harder against him and Greg would submit because he knew Mycroft needed it after the fear he'd just had of losing Greg.

He didn't even know how long it had been since Mycroft had pressed his lips to his. But it wasn't until they both felt they couldn't breathe that Mycroft slowly pulled away, just enough for them to catch their breath.

They were panting, mouth to mouth, their breath hot and their pulse quickening from the kiss they'd just shared. Greg swallowed several times before he could speak, finally able to respond to Mycroft's declaration and whispered under his breath, "I love you."

Mycroft embraced him again, holding him close, and they stayed like that for a long time in the hallway of Greg's apartment. 

They'd told each other everything.

The rest could wait.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Mystrade masterlist here

Mystrade Monday 1.0 : here

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

Can I request a scenario where Dio kills your fiancé in a duel for your hand and wins?

Hi sorry for how long this took, I was writing for this ages ago but tumblr updated automatically and I lost all my progress. To make up for that you have a full one-shot lol.

The Devil

(Yandere Dio Brando X Gender neutral Reader)

Warning: gorey descriptions.

That night had been the stuff of nightmares. It happened so fast; an eruption of screams flooded the small town you called home. You all scrambled through the streets, desperately trying to escape the monsters who had invaded the town.

You panted, desperately trying to breathe as you ran. Your legs felt like jelly. You tried to go faster but only slowed down as a result of your exhaustion.

A hand pulled you into the swarm of monsters, and you let out a horrified scream. Then, more and more hands grabbed you, pulling you in further. You thought they would have torn you apart and feasted on you as they had with others, but they didn't.

You and several women had been captured by the monsters and brought to a castle where their leader waited. You were all forced to kneel in front of a throne where what you had assumed was a human man with messy blonde hair, and amber eyes sat before he approached one of the women and drove his hand into her shoulder. She screamed as she desperately tried to push away. Her skin paled as he drained the life out of her.

He, no, it was indeed a monster. "Is this all you could bring me?" It hissed at the monsters. They quivered in response.

"Well, I'm sure that at least one of these will keep me entertained for now" It chuckled as its eyes wandered over each of you. The women feigned attraction to it in an attempt to spare themselves from a painful death like the woman before them.

Its eyes landed on you, your hands in front of you supporting your weight, and a disgusted scowl on your face reminded it of an event from years ago. Its interest was now on you.

"And what might your name be?" The monster asked.

"I refuse to give you my name, demon!" You hissed as you averted your eyes from him. Causing him to chuckle again. He kneeled down to you and lifted your chin with his finger.

"Shame. I'd love to know what name belonged to such a pretty face like yours," it spoke with a fake frown on its face. You felt sick to your stomach, knowing that this creature was flirting with you. You thought about your fiance; they had left for a few days for a business trip. You hated to imagine their reaction to the news of what happened. Unfortunately, you were so caught up in your thoughts that you did not notice your surroundings.

"I can already tell that I'll enjoy your company," the monster said, catching your attention before pointing to the other women.

"I've made up my mind. Dispose of the others," It ordered its henchmen, that spent no time tearing them limb from limb, all trying to get a piece like starved dogs.

You screamed as you watched. Then, finally, you stood and tried to flee, but it caught you.

🌹🌹🌹

From then on, you were locked in a room and the monster that called himself Dio would visit each night, offering you food, wine, and various gifts. In addition, it'd ask you a variety of questions. Some about your life that you would cautiously answer, while others were favours he'd ask of you, all of which you refused.

One time it'd asked you if you weren't afraid to die; after all, it could make you suffer the same fate the other women had for refusing its requests. You responded simply that you'd rather die with your dignity than bow to a monster such as itself, which it was amused by.

You refused its offers even with such devilish temptations of immortality and eternal youth.

Like every other night, it returned once more, but something was wrong; you knew as soon as you saw the sinister look on its face.

You sat still on the bed, staring at it like a deer staring at the barrel of a gun with nowhere to run. Extremely cautious as to what he could possibly do.

It flashed you its signature sinister smile, and your heart nearly gave out. Your whole body screamed to run, but you knew it would be a hopeless attempt.

"You have a visitor… said they were your fiance," it told you in a strangely casual way. Part of you wanted to think this was a sick joke, that it was lying to get a reaction from you. But, on the other hand, you had never brought up your partner in any conversation. Moreover, you had taken your engagement ring off before you bathed shortly before the attack, so it would have had no clue about your engagement, giving its words credibility.

"No… it can't be", you muttered.

"You don't believe me? Come and see for yourself" Dio laughed at your response.

"Do be quick, though. It's only a matter of time before they bleed out, " it continued as it grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you off the bed. You stumbled as you struggled to get your footing and fell to your knees on the cold, rough stone floor in front of it. Blood slowly forms from the scrapes on your knees.

The monster dragged you through the castle. Your pleading to let go echoed through the castle, but it refused. Your worst fears were confirmed when you saw your lover in the throneroom clinging to life. Deep gashes covered their skin with blood pooling from them, and both arms were gone; the only remaining parts were a dark shade of purple, almost as if they had been frozen off.

"(Y/n)", their strained voice called to you as they saw you.

"Darling" you screamed as you escaped the monster's grip and ran to them quickly to hold them in your arms.

"You shouldn't have come here", you sobbed.

"But I couldn't… I had to find you," they replied.

Your heart broke at that moment, your fiance had risked their life to find you for all this time, and now they were going to die. All the strength you had was gone.

"Dio, I'll do whatever you want. Please just let them live", you cried out in desperation. It walked towards you and put a hand on your shoulder.

"Hmmm… that's a pretty good offer," Dio said with a smile before jamming his other hand into your lover's shoulder, causing a hoarse scream to escape their mouth.

"But knowing that you still love another leaves such a bitter taste in my mouth. For that reason, I won't," it continued, followed by a maniacal laugh. You tried to remove its hand, but you didn't have the strength to do so. Soon you felt a strange sensation that forced you to let go. It was hard to explain, but it was horrible, becoming fully aware of every blood vessel in your body in the worst way imaginable for even a second.

The monster removed his hand from your lover's shoulder. You could only look up at it in horror as your body trembled. You couldn't even utter a single word as your lover laid dead in your arms.

It felt like forever that you just stared until you felt your lover move.

"Darling?!" You exclaimed as you looked down, but as soon as you did, they lunged forward, their head hitting yours, causing you to fall back. You looked at them before as they shuffled atop you. Then, you screamed as you struggled to push them back by their shoulders as you realised they had become the same as those creatures who served Dio.

You struggled against the reanimated corpse of your lover to Dio's amusement before it finally intervened. Grabbing your lover by the neck before throwing them to the furthest wall. You closed your eyes and covered them before hearing a horrible collection of sounds simultaneously. A loud thud and cracking noises were followed by another softer thud and an awful splat. You didn't want to look, but you did anyway. Through your fingers, you saw the wall. The bloody print left by the impact, some small parts of them still clinging to the wall.

Then Dio walked before you, obscuring the view with its body. You looked up at him. You still could not speak.

He wasn't some creature, monster or demon you had initially labelled him. Instead, he was the devil himself.