#sorry you didn’t pay attention when you were forced to go to church

[maureen-corpse]

myrrh is mine; its bitter perfume breathes a life of gathering gloom; sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying, sealed in the stone-cold tomb. if you even care

[barefoot-joker]

Destined for Heaven, Stolen by the Devil~ Yandere!Lucifer X Reader

Hey, guys and welcome to another Lucifer story. I'm sorry I write for him a lot. I just find to him be a very relatable character and I love him so much! Anyway, this fic deals with heavy Christianity themes, so I did my best to research. If something is wrong, please tell me and I'll do my best to fix it. I was very inspired by the song 'The Plagues' from "The Prince of Egypt". As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 2899

Warnings: Heavy Christianity Themes/Beliefs, Swearing, Christianity Mocking, Slight Possessive Tendencies, Reader's Aunt likes crystals, Reader Dies, Kidnapping?

I sighed as my mother pulled a light blue cardigan over my shoulders. She dusted off my dress and fixed my hair so that I looked presentable. Today was Sunday so that meant we had to go to church. I wasn’t too fond of going and I would have rather been playing in the backyard as a twelve year old does. However, my mom made it her duty to take me and make me a good Christian girl. “Why do we have to go, mom? It’s soooo boring!”

I stuck out my tongue at her. She gently pushed it back in. “You know I want our family to have a good relationship with the Lord. It’s our Christian duty. Besides, going to church is in your blood. After all-”

“Yeah, yeah. God told you that I was destined to be a wife for Adam. How can you believe that? It came to you in a dream.”

“Y/n M/n L/n! You do not question God’s ways! You know better! Now come on, we don’t want to be late.”

Dragging me by the hand, she ushered me into the family Cadillac and sped off. I sighed heavily. There were so many things I’d rather be doing than go to church. I could be with my friends, heck I could be at my cool Aunt’s house. “Hey, mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“When are we going to visit Aunt Hailey? When she called you said we’d be seeing her soon.”

“I only said that to get her off my back. You know how I feel about her.”

I grunted and crossed my arms. Aunt Hailey was seen as the black sheep in the family all because she was wealthy. A lot of our relatives (my mother included) thought she sold her soul to the Devil in order to be immensely rich and refused to interact with her. I, however, thought she was so cool. When she used to come over she’d regale to me hundreds of stories about her travels around the world. She even showed me her cool crystal collection when we went over to her house a few times. “Now don’t be like that. It’s not ladylike.”

I grunted again and slid down in the tan leather seat. A few minutes later the car was parked in the church parking lot and I was being dragged inside. Sometimes I wish I had siblings so I wasn’t the only one to feel mom’s wrath. She seated us near the front and handed me the heavy white Bible from the pew. I robotically turned to the page with the Lord’s prayer and stood when Pastor Bob entered. We began reciting the Lord’s prayer and sang a hymn before we sat. I didn’t pay much attention as our Priest told us his sermon for the day but I didn’t dare to look around the room. I had to look the part after all. Fidgety, I played with my ring finger. Glancing down, I took in the birthmark that oddly looked like an apple. I remember it showing up after I stayed at Aunt Hailey’s house one day. I never told my mother about it though. I was often reminded of the tale of Eve and the apple and I don’t know what she would do if ever saw the fruit insignia. After the sermon and another hymn, it was time for communion. We all stood in line and when it was my turn I took the small Ritz cracker and ate it. I coughed lightly and then took a sip from the golden chalice. My mom and I returned to our seats and when everyone was done, we recited the Lord’s prayer one final time. Thank goodness it was over. 

As we walked out, I was forced to shake hands with our elderly Pastor. “How is my favorite little disciple doing today?”

I cringed at that. Ever since my mother told the church of her insane dream I was treated like some goddess. “Good.”

“That’s great to hear. I look forward to our weekly blessing.”

“Of course, Pastor Bob,” my mom butted in, “we wouldn’t miss it.”

He smiled and bid us both ado. We walked back to the car and drove home. As we passed by houses in our neighborhood, I looked longingly at the kids playing. Besides church, Sunday was dedicated to my education of becoming a housewife so when I did die and go to Heaven I was prepared. Parking the car, we went inside. I slipped off my Mary Janes and put them by the door. The rest of the day was spent cleaning, doing embroidery work and cooking. Just as I was getting ready for bed, the phone rang. I went into the kitchen and picked up the landline. “Hello?”

“Is my dear Y/n there?”

“This is her.”

“It’s your Aunt Hailey.”

“Auntie! Hi! How are you?”

She chuckled. “I am good, my darling. And you? Surviving another day in that stuffy house?”

I giggled at her commentary. “I’ve been okay. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering when you can come over. I was talking with a friend the other day and he would like to meet you properly. I believe he saw you at my house when you were five.”

“I’d love to come over! Let me ask mom real quick.”

I walked into the living room and pressed the phone to my chest. “Hey, mom. Aunt Hailey’s on the phone. She wants to know when I can come over.”

She looked up from her book and glared at the phone. “You know my answer.”

“Come on, mom! It’ll just be for a day!”

“I don’t know.”

“Please! I promise when I get back I’ll focus on my wifely duties! Please!”

I gave her puppy dog eyes and slightly whimpered. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Alright. You can go tomorrow, but I expect you to stay true to your promise. You know how God would feel if you went back on your word.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

I lifted the phone up to my ear and quickly ran into the kitchen. “She said I can come tomorrow.”

“Wonderful! I’ll see you then, my dear.”

“Bye, Auntie!”

“Goodbye for now, darling.”

I ended the call and put the phone back on the receiver. I returned to the living room where mom and I did our nightly prayer. When we finished, she gave my forehead a kiss and sent me to bed. 

The next morning I dressed in a plaid dress shirt, brown capri pants and black oxfords. I bounced in the passenger seat giddily as my mother parked the car in my Aunt’s gravel driveway. “Now remember to behave. I don’t need any calls about your disobedience.”

“I’ll be good, I will.”

“That’s my girl. And you have your cross necklace?”

“Yes, mom. Can I go now?”

She kissed my forehead and I got out of the car. “Be safe! Call me if something happens and I’ll be back around dinner to pick you up!”

“Okay mom, bye!”

I waved and she drove off. I turned towards my relative’s mansion and walked up the stone steps. I grabbed the handle from the golden lion’s head and gave three loud knocks on the large oak door. The door opened to reveal Timothy, my Hailey’s middle aged butler. “Ah Miss Y/n, we were expecting you. Please come in.”

He stood to the side and allowed me inside. Closing the door, he led me across the marble floor to one of the drawing rooms near the back. I could hear muffled voices talking as we entered, Timothy clearing his throat. “Your niece is here, madam.”

“Thank you, Timothy. That will be all.”

He bowed and exited the room. My Auntie smiled and gestured for me to come over. I ran to her and gave her a big hug. Her navy silk and lace dress clung to me. “It’s so good to see you, darling! I’ve missed you so!”

“I’ve missed you too!”

I pulled away and she motioned to the gold and floral print armchair next to her. I sat and looked at her guest on the chaise lounge. He seemed quite the esteemed gentleman. He had slicked back blonde hair, pale skin and red eyes. I found them quite odd but didn’t judge. Mother said it was bad to judge based upon appearances. He wore a white suit with a red dress shirt, a black tie with black flower detailing, black leather gloves and shiny black dress shoes. He was on the shorter side as well. “Y/n, I’d like you to meet my friend Luci. He’s the one to thank for my wealth.”

The man stood and bowed to me. He took my hand and kissed my apple birthmark. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my little apple. Your Aunt has told me so much about you.”

“It’s good to meet you too, sir.”

“So polite. Your mother is raising you right.”

“Except for the amount of gospel she puts in my poor baby’s head. I swear all because of her fucking dream, she’s gone total Bible thumper.”

Luci titled his head to the side. “Oh you’ll have to tell me over tea. Speaking of which, I think Timothy has finished setting up the garden for us.”

“Splendid!”

We all stood and the blonde offered me his arm. I gladly took it and we walked outside to Hailey’s marble floored porch. A metal table sat in the middle overlooking her large flower garden, a lacy white tablecloth set on top. Luci pulled out my chair and after I sat, pushed it in. He sat next to me and began pouring tea for all of us. Today Timothy had picked out the clear glass kettle so we could see the yellow liquid inside and the pastel teacups. I thanked Auntie’s friend when he poured into my cup and marveled at the small pink flower floating. “I see we’re having chrysanthemum tea. You know it’s your Auntie’s favorite.”

I giggled and picked up my cup. Blowing a little, I took a sip and smiled at the sweet taste. “So you were talking about Y/n’s mother?”

“Ah yes. She’s always been a Christian woman, believing in the power above. Then one night she had a dream, a vision she calls it, that Y/n is to be the third wife of the first man Adam. Ever since then she’s been obsessively devoted and is dragging my poor niece with her.”

“I see.”

Luci seemed to become stiff at the mention of Heaven and God. Perhaps it was a touchy subject?

“So God came to her and said this, hm?”

“Sure as shit supposedly.”

The three of us sipped our tea in silence. “So has school been going, my dear?”

“Good, Auntie. We learned how to do cursive in English the other day so now I can write my name all fancy!”

“That’s great, darling. Anything else?”

“I’ve been feeling kind of left out lately.”

Both adults turned to me in curiosity. “How so?”

“Well none of the other kids my age are really learning wifely duties, at least not as much as me. When I want to go outside and play mom forces me to do my skills.”

“Wifely duties? Pray do tell,” Luci cocked an eyebrow.

“I learned how to clean the house from top to bottom, cook all three meals, sew, embroider, and do laundry. Basically anything my mom deems necessary to please this angelic husband of mine.”

“I can assure you it will come in handy. Especially with how much of pigish brute he is.”

“How do you know?”

“I just got that impression when I’ve read his passages in the Bible, sweetie.”

“Oh.”

“If you had a real man I can be sure you wouldn’t need those skills, darling,” Auntie piped up, sipping her tea.

“A real man? Like who?”

“Like Luci for example!”

I turned to the blonde and he smiled. His eyes glinted with what looked like adoration. He gently grabbed my hand and held it, his hands quite warm through his gloves. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of my hand. “It’s true. If you were my wife you wouldn’t want for nothing. Every day would be spent in marital bliss.”

“Sounds gross!”

He chuckled and kissed my hand again. “When you’re older you’ll come to love it.”

‘If you say so.”

“I know so.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent listening to Luci’s tales from his travels while drinking our tea. They were quite intriguing and full of adventure. The people he met, the places he went were all so fascinating. It soon became dinner time and true to her word my mom sat in the driveway. Luci walked me to the door and gave a little bow. “It was a pleasure to chat with you, Y/n. I have a feeling we will see each other more in the future.”

“I hope so. You’re so cool, Luci!”

He smirked and patted my head. “Farewell, little lady.”

“Goodbye, Luci!”

I gave him a quick hug before running to the car.

Sure enough as I grew up I ran into the short blonde more often than not. From trips to the grocery store to when I was allowed at Aunt Hailey’s house, we would bump into each other. We’d always exchange a few words and always those red eyes sparkled bright around me. 

That was eleven years ago. Now I lay in a hospital bed, feeling like I was on the brink of death. A few years after meeting Luci I had gotten terribly ill. I was feverish, pale and felt nauseous. My mother was worried and took me to the clinic. I was just diagnosed with the flu. I took my medicine and stayed in bed as best as possible but the final straw was when I fainted in the backyard while gardening. Since then, I had been in and out of hospital with different doctors viewing me like prize cattle. I was poked, prodded and dug at only to be told no one had a clue as to why I was sick. It was like it had just fallen upon me. My mother became even more obsessive in her Christian ways. I was blessed every weekend and prayed upon every day to try and heal my mysterious illness. I was forced to drink holy water at every opportunity and had to wear my cross necklace with two rosaries. 

Currently, I was coughing so hard I felt like I dislocated my lungs. My mother sat next to me holding my hand, a rosary wrapping around us. As I continued to cough she pushed some hair out of my face. “You’re going to be alright, honey. Just stay strong.”

After my coughing fit, I laid back and tried to catch my breath. “I feel like I’m dying.”

Her hand tightened around mine and I could feel her body shake with sobs. “Maybe this is God’s way of letting us know Adam needs you. As much as I’d hate to see my baby go, you’d finally fulfill your purpose.”

“Mom, please. Not now.”

“I’m sorry.”

A knock at the door made us both look over. There in the entryway stood Luci, his white hat with the dark red band hanging tightly in his hands. “Come in.”

He stepped forward and gave a small smile. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“Y/n! Language!”

“Sorry.”

He chuckled and came to my side, putting a hand on my shoulder. “May I have a moment alone, please?”

My mom looked at me and I gave a curt nod. She sighed and stood. “I’ll go get something to eat. I’ll be back later, honey.”

She gave my forehead a kiss and walked out, shutting the door behind her. Luci took her place in the chair next to my bed. “What can I do for you, handsome?”

“I wanted to come see you. Hailey told me how you were faring and I knew I needed to come immediately.”

“I appreciate that. Especially since I feel like this may be the last time you see me.”

“Nonsense. We will always find each other, even in death.”

He brought his hand up and caressed my cheek. I smiled and then began coughing. I turned away and hacked into my arm, only turning back when I was done. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

His hand wrapped around mine and squoze tightly. “You know, I could end your suffering right now.”

“Yeah right.”

“I’m not lying to you, my dear. One small kiss and you’d go peacefully.”

“Luci-”

“And then we can be together forever. Adam, not even Heaven will keep you from me.”

“What are you talking about?” “Just kiss me.”

What could go wrong? I was already suffering so much.

“...Alright.”

He leaned forward and connected our lips. He tasted sweet like caramel apples and I just melted. My soul felt like it was being sucked out of my body and when he pulled away I couldn’t breathe. “You’re mine, little apple. Forever and always.”

He caressed my hand and my eyes closed.

The beeping of the heart monitor slowed and then faded to silence all together.

[thebestofoneshots]

Hi love just wondering when the priest Remus fic will be out? I LOVE LOVE your writing and I am so excited for this one

I truly hope It's this Friday! Especially with the GC chapter we're going to have, I feel like you guys deserve a little compensation. If I can't manage though, it will surely be next week.

Now, and to build more excitement, a little teaser:

NO SWEETER INNOCENCE THAN OUR GENTLE SIN | TEASER

Pairing: Priest!Remus x reader Prompt: You did not want to go to church that day, but your spirits are uplifted when you meet Father Remus, and your mind starts creating a mischievous scheme, to both retaliate over those years of being forced to go and take something from them. Alternatively, R is really mad at the church and decides to steal one of their priests for it (but also kind of falls for him). Warnings: The complete story will contain smut. Innocence! Kink, allusion to fingering and self-pleasure. Reader is seducing a catholic priest and has a bit of a corruption!kink. Smut under the cut.

After the mass was over, you waited a few minutes before leaving the church “accidentally” bumping into him again. “Remus,” you said with a smile. “We seem to continue bumping into each other,” you added as you leaned closer to him and pressed your cheek to his, making a low smacking sound, and then repeating on the other side. He looked bewildered at the contact. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I got this habit while I was in France and I still haven’t shaken it off completely.” 

“Oh… No, no,” hesitant, bashful, you loved every bit of it. “Not at all, it’s fine. You can greet me however you like.” 

“Is that privilege reserved to me, or does every other parishioner have it?” He seemed taken aback by your words. “I’m joking, Remus,” you added and placed your hand on his arm, before pulling it back tentatively. “Your mass was wonderful.” 

“Thank you, I’m lucky to work at Saint Gryffin.” 

“The way I see it, Saint Griffin is lucky to have you. I mean lots of women come here to see beautiful priest Remus.” 

“You think?” he asked. Remus didn’t exactly consider himself handsome, he thought his scars would scare people away rather than attract them. But he sometimes failed to see past them and didn’t pay attention to his beautiful eyes, to his charming smile, to his long lashes, or to his well-toned frame. It was as if he had been craved by Michael Angelo himself, from your perspective.

“For sure,” you replied. “Take a closer look at the way they look at you on Sunday and you’ll see.” He blushed, a deeper shade of red than your Nan had pulled out of him, you resisted the urge to bite your lip and smiled instead. “Today was lovely, I’ll see you around,” you said before waving goodbye and leaving exiting the church. 

You went again a week later, Remus would sometimes lose his focus on the bible and look at you instead. That day you had chosen a skirt. Nothing too short or indecent, but certainly short enough to allow your legs to be seen and admired. An older man hadn’t stopped staring at you throughout the mass, and you would have perhaps told him off if it hadn’t been for the fact that Remus had been in a similar position.

Remus’ distraction, his hesitance and his constant turning to you were enough to drive your attention away from the man and onto him. You would smile, and you would nod, and you would pretend to be a supportive little lamb. Innocent, and meek and kind. Just what he expected from you. And it was that Wednesday, the third time that you’d met him, that you realised you had him right where you wanted him to be. 

He for sure had a thing for you, be it curiosity, admiration, or a small crush. You had gotten his atention, and you had gotten into his mind. Now all you needed was to have him.

(...)

The next Wednesday you had been late, you had allowed your hair to be slightly dishevelled and your cheeks were warm, despite the autumn getting colder. You had bitten your lips and you looked like you had just gotten away from a dire situation. You’d done it on purpose. When his gaze fell on you he almost stopped talking completely. He staggered to complete his words and you nodded for him to go on. When he was done, he rushed out, and you stayed in your seat. Eyes closed and hands clasping each other, pretending to pray. 

That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, he whispered your name. “Are you okay, Little Lamb?” 

It took a real effort not to laugh at his nickname. Not because you thought it was stupid, but because you were so far from a lamb that you might as well have been the wolf that ate it. You turned to him, fake distress clouding your features, “I’ve done something terrible, Remus.” 

He was kind, almost impossibly so, it almost made you want to stop your plan and leave him the pure man he was. 

almost.

“I’m sure there’s nothing you could do, that was as bad as you’ve described.” 

“I’d like to confess,” you said. “Would you take my confession?” 

Remus seemed hesitant, biting his lip. He knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t hear your confession, not when he wanted to maintain a personal relationship with you, not when he’d develop a crush. But it was in your preoccupied gaze, in the small frown that etched your features, in the way your lips curved down and in the bobbing of your throat as you swallowed. How ever could he deny you? 

Oh, those thoughts would be the ones that would drag him into sin, nay, not drag, but rather, waft him into it. If Remus hadn’t been so enamoured by you, perhaps it would have proved a harder task to accomplish for you. 

“Okay,” he said simply. And helped you stand. Guiding you towards the empty confessionary and sitting in his spot as you opened the door to the other one. It was a narrow place, enough for you to sit. There was a screen dividing the two of you, you couldn’t see him, but you suspected he could see you. And there was a small, square hole in between, enough to fit perhaps a hand. You assumed it was there in case you’d like to give something to the priest, as a thank you. 

Remus cleared his throat, and in the most professional way he could muster he said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. My child, what brings you to the sacrament of confession today?”

His voice had been different, stronger as if he was trying not to be himself. You loved it. “Father, I come seeking forgiveness for my sins. I have strayed from the path of righteousness and I seek reconciliation,” you let your voice bend and crack near the end. 

 “I am here to listen, my child. Let us begin with a moment of reflection. Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess.” 

You held back the smirk that threatened to appear when he said that, just in case he was actually able to see you. “I have fallen in love with a man I cannot have.” 

“Oh, darling,” he said, that was Remus, not Father Remus. You had cracked through his façade and you hadn’t even started. “That is not a sin. It’s happened to the best of us.” 

“But it is a sin the way I think of him, Father,” you responded. You heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t speak further. “I have dreamt of him, of his lips, of his eyes with long lashes, the way his hair frames his face, of his beautiful and strong hands–“ Remus tried not to be jealous of the man you described, but everything about him seemed perfect, and unlike himself, he probably could have you. Your beautiful lips, and eyes, focused solely on him. He hated the guy already. “–sliding between my legs, and touching me.” 

“Do not speak further,” there was an edge of alarm in his voice. A bit of a broken end to it. 

“Oh but Father I must,” you said. “If I don’t I’m afraid I’ll act upon my feelings in the same way I did today while thinking of him.” 

“You…” he hesitated. “You touched yourself… Is that why you’re here?” 

“Yes,” you replied with a frown, almost a wince, all of it an act, of course. 

“Pray Our Father 10 times and–“ 

“No! Allow me to relate my story, Father,” he tried to stop you. “I must, I must, or then I might go to him and offer myself in a terrible, ungodly manner and then I won’t ever be deserving of the church ever again.”

Frankly, you didn’t even know how you’d gotten so inspired, but Remus relented, nodding and when he realised you hadn’t heard, he bit his cheek and said. “Go on then.” 

You sighed, that was a real sigh, you weren’t sure you’d get this far. “I had a dream of him father. He was handsome as ever, and he looked at me, with such kind eyes, with such loving eyes, that when he leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t stop him.” 

Remus was already praying for himself. He did not want to imagine you in your bed, your hair sprawled over the pillow and your mind away in a dream, kissing another man. 

(…)

Remus’ boner was straining against his pants in a way that was almost painful. He wanted to let go, he wanted to set him free and chase his own pleasure at your words. At how he pictured you in your bed, sweaty and sighing as you touched yourself. You were so beautiful, he found innocence even in the way you sinned. 

“And then there was bliss, I thought I was dead and had gone to heaven, but I came back, vision cloudy and disoriented. My bedsheets were sticky with my juices and I had to change them. I’ve been in a permanent state of shame ever since then.” 

“Let us pray for your forgiveness,” Remus said. And my own, he thought. Now not only your sheets had been stained, but so had his pants, just from hearing you. You would have relished on the knowledge if you’d had it. 

“Thank you, Father,” you said as you stood. 

“Pray tell me child, whoever is this man that has you in such an altered state of mind?” 

Got him! you thought as you turned your gaze to the confessionary. And almost in a whisper, you murmured. “Well, it’s you, Remus.” 

Read More Marauders Fiction Here

No sweeter innocence than our gentle sin will be out soon!

Tag list open (Just tell me if you want to be added)

[dozing-marshmallow]

CHRISTMAS WITH TOTAL DRAMA CHARACTERS(CHRIS, DUNCAN, HEATHER) SCENARIOS

Merry Christmas everyone! So sorry I couldn’t post something Christmas themed sooner, I hope everyone’s been having a wonderful day with family and friends whether you celebrate or not!🎄❤️

CHRIS

Despite the Christmas events he hosted for many networks, Chris didn’t feel he was really celebrating it until he went over to Newfoundland.

Before dinner, you joined him on this tradition that his homeland calls “Mummering” where it was basically Guess Who and Trick or Treat combined.

Needless to say, every neighbour you visited guessed who he was correctly.

He was reluctant to complete the family secret Santa. Originally, you sucked your teeth, thinking he was just being arrogant. However, from that event, you got an insight on the nature of a lot of his relatives- opportunistic.

“Could you lend me a few thousand dollars? What’s a guy like you to lose?", "Could you be the best nephew in the world and pay for the wedding of my best friend’s daughter?", "Could you help me pay off my mortgage?"

No wonder why your husband was barely enjoying himself at the dinner table! These people didn’t see him as a human; they saw him as a big shot wallet.

“Tell me, Chris... Is this how every Christmas goes for you?” you asked when it was just you and him, sitting next to him on the guest bed.

He was as sombre as ever. Sombre!,“Yeah. Told you the rest of the family weren’t important. I only bother to put up with them for my mom. I wish they all drop dead soon though.”

Not on Christmas Day... You couldn’t end the evening like this,“Okay... Is there anything you want to do together to cheer you up before we go to bed?”

“Hm...” the exhaustion shifts in his eyes as he smugly commands,“Tell me how good I look.”

You sigh in annoyance. That, you could do any day,“Really, Chris?”

“Fiiiiiine.” his moping tone of voice settled back,“I suppose raiding the leftover desserts wouldn’t hurt.”

“That...” is an oddly simple request coming from him,“Yet you’re implying you never did it?”

His attention is caught by the room’s door,“I didn’t have anyone I wanted to do it with.”

And unlike the fall of snow, his festive misery had vanished all at once.

“ᴬˡˡ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ⁱˢ ʸᵒᵘ!”

DUNCAN

Duncan’s dad was very pushy about Church this time around.

And he always found in his best interest to not go anyway.

This time though, you were there with him. So he decided, he’ll go this year.

He was also forced to join the local youth choir that would sing on the streets to raise money for those in need.

As long as he got to wear a mask...

“Not happening.” his dad sneered.

Okay, it wasn’t actually as bad as he thought it’d go.

Though he didn’t want to give his dad that satisfaction so he played sour about coming home. His main motivation was to steal some plates worth of food, give his mother her Christmas present and stuff the stockings of his cousins with bars of coal.

If anyone asks, you didn’t see anything.

His mom knitted him a Christmas sweater in return so obviously he wore it.

He visited his friends back in juvie with you.

It was quite heartwarming, seeing these teens who had done wrong in the past still have tenderness to friends and family, making you wish them a good future post leaving prison.

Besides, if they were Duncan’s friends, they had to have some morals.

Walking back, it was clear that he had room left for mischief and wanted to fill that space by stalling so you would be in front of him and turn around in confusion to not be met with Duncan, but his snowball.

“Hahaha! Nice makeup!”

You brush the snow off your face and feel your own devil inspire.

Let’s give him a taste of his own medicine.

You bent down and rolled up a snowball. Let the fight begin!

“ ᴼ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ, ᵃˡˡ ʸᵉ ᶠᵃⁱᵗʰᶠᵘˡ, ʲᵒʸᶠᵘˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʳⁱᵘᵐᵖʰᵃⁿᵗ!”

HEATHER

She scrunches her nose at the arrival of Christmas, that season that’s “nothing but noise and shallow junk.”

"I got you a present." you held it out for her.

“Buying my favour when it’s not my birthday, huh?” she looked inside the bag with no anticipation until she saw designer clothes neatly folded. She raised a smile and an eyebrow as she glanced back at you,“Okay, I guess it’s not that bad.”

Seeing her house made you wonder why she auditioned to come on the show.

To her displeasure, you were having fun cutting snowflakes, painting ornaments and decorating gingerbread men with her younger brothers and sisters.

Even more so when you helped her parents prepare the meal.

“We could never dream of Heather helping us out in the kitchen!” her mother claimed, wearing gloves over her manicured hands and a long apron over her expensive attire,“This is a nice change!”

“For sure! (Y/N) should come every year! Maybe our Heather Feather could learn a thing or two from you!” her father would then add on, with a hopeful smile.

With that, she dragged you out of the kitchen by the ear lobe.

“Let’s get out of here. I want something to drink.” she demanded, all ready in her outside winter gear.

Why come home if you’re not going to enjoy yourself?

You’re about to pay for the cozy drinks, but Heather interrupts you.

“I’ll do it.”

After an opening sip and staring at all this pure white showering from the sky, you smirk at Total Drama’s first villain,“So she does have a giving heart!”

Her answer was as cold, but her face was soft,“Don’t make me spill this on you.” the steam from her cup should be the only thing your eyes made contact with,“I just felt nice today. Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

Something about that clarification made her tighten her grip on her cup for a small moment.

Seems like she wanted to give home a chance to fix her a reason for being...this. Generous.

A reason to like Christmas.

However, being with you, peacefully drinking with her, not disgusted or intimidated, was a reason on its own.

“ᵀʰⁱˢ ʸᵉᵃʳ, ᵗᵒ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ, ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ,”

[wrenwinchester]

I want to say congratulations on your degree, because college is hard. Now onward.

I understand how what I said can seem condescending, it wasn’t my intention, my intention was to be gracious, but I had a billion things going on in my brain as I was writing, and I meant to say that what I was saying was of course based on my experiences, and what I know to be true from them. And I understand that. So I’m sorry for coming across that way. It wasn’t my intention.

Yes “God set a boundary” is an interpretation of what happened, but also it is what happened. God told Adam and Eve that there would be consequences for eating of the tree of the knowledge of Good and Evil, and when they did that, he was forced to make a choice he didn’t enjoy, or relish in. And because of the choices of Adam and Eve, He was unable to allow them, and therefore us, to live in his presence without some kind of intervention. As far as Christianity is a relationship not a religion, I should clarify that it should be a personal relationship, though that is often not the case. And though those exact words aren’t in the Bible, the meaning is. If you look at how Jesus treated the Pharisees, we see that.

God is all powerful yes, and He invites everyone to love and be in his presence. However, He is also all knowing. He knows our motives for wanting to be in His presence, again looking at the Pharisees, people who would pray in the streets to show off their “faith,” Jesus said their reward happened here on Earth, they got the attention from people. They weren’t doing it to glorify God, they were trying to glorify themselves. And God is a jealous God, there are things he cannot stand for, He is the Judge, yes, and He is the King, and our Father. He has to find a balance. It hurts him to send us to be tortured, however, because of Adam and Eve’s actions, we know right from wrong, and so in doing wrong knowingly, we have to accept the consequences, all of which are laid out in the Bible. Now, there is often great conflict between what the Old Testament says, and the New Testament says, at least in the Church. And while the Old Testament is important, the New Testament is the one that gives us hope for a future in Heaven, we don’t have to sacrifice burnt offerings for our sin anymore because Jesus died on the cross, taking on all our sins, being forsaken by his Father, despite being a part of Him. Despite being God. And He did that for you. He did that for me, and for everyone to walk this earth, then and now. The process for our sins has been paid, we need only to accept the gift, if we don’t we still have to pay the price for them, but that’s each individual’s choice.

The words “it’s too painful for him” was a poor choice on my end. I can admit that, I am not perfect. Those are the words that first came to mind, and seemed right, however the message that came across was not the one I was trying to send. God made rules, and asked us to follow them, telling us the consequences if we didn’t. Which in essence is setting a boundary. He wants what is best for us, and when we choose otherwise it hurts Him, but it is still ultimately our choice. Moving on before I get caught in an unending circle of repetitive points.

Absolutely humans are born with a huge inherent capacity for forming relationships, seeking survival, experiencing pleasure, reacting to pain, and making and learning from mistakes. And these things aren’t inherently bad, nor do they make us inherently bad. Now I personally believe that we are born in the flesh, meaning before choosing to become a Christian, because it is a choice, we are more likely to sin but it’s only a sin when we know what we’re doing is wrong. And being human isn’t something to be ashamed of or feel guilty for, though I understand how it can feel that way in the church and I’m sorry that happened to you, I feel for you. As someone who is asexual, and thought they were bi for a while, it hurts. I feel ostracized by my family despite the fact they don’t know because how could I tell them. What would I even say? Anytime I try to vaguely explain I get dismissed. So yeah, it can hurt. Jesus loves us for who we are, for being who we are. Not despite but because of who we are. And I’m glad, truly, that you like yourself, and like being yourself. That is important. And I’m sorry that the Church ever made you feel otherwise.

Re: Hell, again, yes he’s all powerful, but he’s also stern and loving, He is the Lawmaker, Creator, Judge, and King. But He is also our Father. Even still that means he has to make the difficult decisions for the good of everyone.

Back to the kids with scissors, yeah, at first you teach them the correct way to hold them, not to run with sharp objects, etc. etc. you show them love and compassion. What about when they still run with scissors, when they don’t listen, or learn, what happens when they hurt themselves or someone else because they wouldn’t listen to you? God wants to prevent that pain and torture, but when we opt out of listening to His commands, his rules and regulations, we opt out of the relationship with Him. Actions have consequences, good and bad. We have to face the consequences of our actions no matter what they might be.

As far as the abuser comment goes, yeah I understand where you’re coming from. Especially looking through the lens of it being a first offense, this goes for most of what we humans consider the “minor” sins. However, small lies turn to bigger lies, to bigger lies to bigger lies, each justifying the last. Until it’s no longer a minor sin.

I know this to be true, but I also know that I’m not going to change your mind. I appreciate your insight on the topic of Christianity, truly, and thank you for the time spent reading this and discussing, I’m willing to continue if you’d like, however I fear we will just be repeating the same points we already have, and just keep going around in a circle. I hope you have a lovely rest of your day, whatever that may look like for you.

Look, we joke a lot, but really, "you were born evil, wretched, worse than the scum of the earth, and it took killing a god to make you salvageable, so now you'd better be grateful to that god and thank him 10,000 times a day for it and fill your thoughts with him 24/7 and abide by the letter of his every word, lest you suffer unimaginable torture for all of eternity" is a truly horrendous thing to believe about yourself and other people

[hxney-lemcn]

A Gift From God — John Ward x gn! reader

summary: Reader is forced to go to church and ends up meeting one of the priests. They think nothing much of it until they run into him again, and something blossoms between them.

tw: Slight religious truama?? Like not in depth or anything. Hard not to mention religion when it comes to a game about a priest lmao

a/n: Okay, a couple things. 1. This is gender neutral, but I do use the term school girl crush. I think it can be a gender neutral term to describe the feeling of a person if you know what I mean. 2. I tried to leave the reader's religion up in the air (?) but you can tell it leans towards atheist viewpoint. I totally made the reader relatable to me and I myself am an atheist.

wc: 1.9k

Master List

Going to church wasn’t my cup of tea. Yet the money my grandma waved under my nose just to go to church with her was too tempting. Besides, I can tune out another service and make a good $30. It’ll help pay my bills anyways. I stared up at the stage, not really paying attention. Not until the other priest starts speaking and god damn, he’s cute as fuck. I can’t help but internally chuckle as my mind couldn’t help but ogle at him. I felt saddened by the fact that I didn’t get his name, but it was whatever. It’s not like anything was going to happen.

I wasn’t as down about the service since I had a cute priest I could daydream about. I was surprised I wasn’t burning from how my thoughts weren’t really as pure as they should be. Although I tried not to let my thoughts get too weird. Once the service ended, I got up with my grandparents and we exited the main room. My grandma asked me to wait in the hallway as they wanted to speak to the priests quickly. I agreed, although I felt like they were up to something. 

I awkwardly leaned against the wall as people all dressed to the nines walked past me. I nodded politely as they walked past. I fidgeted with my hands as soon only a few people lingered and I felt out of place. I really just wanted to get out of here and watch t.v. 

“Hello, you must be (y/n),” An unfamiliar voice spoke from my left. I turned to face the person only to feel my heart drop. It was the cute priest, and the fact that he not only knew my name, but was currently speaking to me was because of my grandparents. 

I gave him a strained smile, trying not to seem like I was dying inside, “Hello Father…”

“Ward,” He supplied his name for me, a more relaxed smile on his face. “How are you on this fine day?”

“I’m alright,” I shrugged, just wanting to get this over with. “How are you?”

“Good,” He nodded. “Your grandparents shared some concerns they have.”

I felt tense and looked to the side rolling my eyes, I couldn’t hide the disdain I clearly felt at that moment, “Well I’m sorry to waste your time Father, they tend to get paranoid.”

“They said you seem to stray from religion,” He continued, which caused my frown to grow. 

“Well, I’m still figuring things out,” I shrugged. “Don’t tell them I said that, they’ll go even crazier if they know I said that.”

Father Ward nodded and gently patted my shoulder, “We all go through trials of faith, if you ever have questions or need help, do not be afraid to come to me.”

I looked back towards the brunette priest and gave him a more genuine smile, “Thank you for respecting that. I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

With a nod he bid me farewell. Then my grandparents came back, seeming more cheerful than before. I knew that people who were religious weren’t all bad, my grandparents just ruined my view on religion. But perhaps a priest of all people can prove just how not all people are bad. Although I doubt I’ll see him again. 

Which I was wrong about. I did see him again, when I was out grocery shopping of all places. I was picking out some of my favorite fruit only to see a familiar priest in casual attire checking out some vegetables. Normally, I avoid people I’ve met before if I see them again. Seeing someone I’ve met only once before tends to make my anxiety go off. And I still felt anxiety pulse through me, but something in me told me to speak up. He was really nice when we talked, so it shouldn’t be too bad to just greet him in public.

“Uhm,” I stuttered out, immediately regretting whatever made me think this was a good idea. “H-hi?”

Father Ward, the only name I knew him by currently, looked up and towards me. Confusion, surprise, and then a warm look flashed over his features in that order, “Hello!”

I felt my brain race, not sure what to say now. Once again, I regret putting myself in this situation.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” I replied awkwardly. 

“Well, I don’t live in the church,” He chuckled.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “But it’s kinda like seeing a teacher outside of school if you know what I mean.”

He laughed a bit more at that and nodded, “I can see that.”

I cleared my throat, unsure how to end the conversation, “I’ll uh, leave you to it then. Sorry to bother you.”

“Not a bother at all,” He smiled warmly in response. “You’re doing well I hope?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, surprised that he was keeping the conversation going. “Just work all day and rest at home. How about you?”

“I could be doing better,” He admitted, not meeting my eyes. “But I won’t bore you about all that.”

I felt myself frown, I already felt myself grow attached to him. Which I knew was dumb, he was a priest, so of course he’s going to be friendly. But I didn’t interact with people outside of work much anymore so it was a nice breath of fresh air. It didn’t help that this interaction was humanizing him more than how I viewed him before, as a man of God that was perfect. 

“I don’t mind you sharing,” I said softly. “Although I doubt you’d want to tell me in a grocery store.” 

“I wouldn’t want to burden you with my problems,” Ward said with a grim smile. “Besides, we barely know each other. You don’t even know my first name.”

“Well,” I said a bit dumbly. “Then tell me.”

He hesitated, “John.”

“Nice to meet you John,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood. “Maybe we could catch a movie or something and get to know each other better.”

That day, a relationship grew. We had a small home made dinner at my house and well…got to know each other better. After that, we’d hang out here and there. It was really nice. He was a sweet guy, although a bit disturbed. He opened up to me about his past. Not much, but I could piece things together. He told me he partook in an exorcism gone wrong, how after he wasn’t well mentally but got help and how he was better now. How he had a wife but they got divorced a few years ago, but how she wasn’t at fault, and he understands her reasoning.

So I did some research. I found out about Amy Martin, how she was now in psychiatric care, and how terrible the entire situation was. I knew that if John wanted to tell me his perspective of the event, he would in his own time, I don’t want to reopen any wounds. All I wished was to be a new support in John’s life, someone he knows he can lean on when he needs it.

One night, John and I planned on watching a movie, at my house he persisted. I didn’t mind. I made some popcorn, got some sweets I bought just for tonight, and set it all out on my coffee table. A knock on the door made me perk up and I got up to answer it right away. I smiled brightly as I saw John stand on the other side. His face showed relief and I immediately became worried. I noticed how he had dark circles under his eyes and my assumption was he must’ve had a nightmare again.

I ushered him in, asking if he wanted anything to drink, which he asked for some water. I got a glass of water as quickly as I could before walking back into my living room. He thanked me as I handed him the glass and I sat down next to him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked softly, hoping not to startle him into keeping to himself.

His blue eyes met mine, but looked away quickly after sipping some of the cold water. It was silent for a few seconds before he confessed, “I had another nightmare.”

I licked my lips, unsure of where to go from here. I’ve never been the best at comforting people. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He became tense and I knew that was the wrong thing to say, “I’d rather try and forget about it.”

I nodded in understanding, “Did you still want to watch a movie? We could do something else as well.”

“You seem to have put a lot of effort into our movie night,” John smiled shyly. “And with you by my side I feel better already.” 

I felt my heart skip a beat and I tried to act calm. I always found him attractive, but the more I got to know him, the harder I seemed to fall. I felt like a schoolgirl getting a crush, it was so embarrassing. I mean he was a priest after all, could he even date? I  mean he mentioned his ex-wife before, but I was still unsure about all that. He still seemed to really care for her after all. 

“Well I’m glad I can give you some form of comfort,” I smiled sheepishly back. “Need a hug?” I opened my arms at the invite, hoping I’m not coming off like an idiot. 

He hesitated once more, before slowly wrapping me in an embrace. I rubbed his back in a soothing manner. I felt myself melt into the hug, not used to being touched in such an affectionate manner. Though I reminded myself that this was for him, and to make him feel safe, a small part of me wanted to be selfish and indulge myself with the warm feeling overtaking me. 

I pulled away slowly, “I’ll go start the movie real quick.” I whispered, feeling like a volume any higher would break the moment. 

I went over to my collection of VHS tapes and picked out Back to the Future. Slipping the tape into my VHS player, I joined John on the couch once more. I glanced over at John, and bit my lip in thought. I could play it risky and offer to hold him…I mean he still seems a bit shaken and it’s totally not because I just want to…

I leaned against the arm of the couch, mindlessly watching the movie. I glanced at John once more and made up my mind. I tapped him on the shoulder, gaining his attention. I opened my arms once more. He was still slightly hesitant, but accepted the offer once more. This time I leaned back and he was laid on top of me. I went back to ‘watching’ the movie, hoping he wouldn’t say anything. I thanked God as he didn’t. The movie continued playing, but all I could focus on was the cute priest that I was currently holding. 

I hope that he couldn’t hear how fast my heart was beating, but his head was resting on my chest so I’m sure he could. I absentmindedly drew shapes over his spine as I tried to distract myself from how warm I felt. I didn’t even notice that he fell asleep until the movie ended. Once the credits rolled I looked down at John, only to find his eyes shut with a peaceful look on his face. I felt myself crumble at how…honored I felt that he trusted me this much. I resigned to being a pillow, trying to get more comfortable myself. I grabbed the throw blanket that was on the back of my couch and threw it over us.

If there is a God, I can’t help but thank him for bringing John into my life.

[contentstarved]

based on these asks from anon!!

i probably should’ve used more description, but, eh. maybe next time LMAO. i feel like you can really tell that i started to lose steam near the end but i REALLY wanted to get this done. sorry for the lackluster ending!

contains: cloud feeling a little suicidal, hunger, stomach growling, cloud actually eating for once. caretaking. i don’t necessarily wanna file this under stuffing because that doesn’t really happen here. it’s more like eating w/o much satisfaction because starvation is a bitch.

---

In Aerith's opinion, it was incredibly easy to tell that her new friend-slash-bodyguard was feeling rather starved again.

She could tell he was trying to hide it, but truthfully, subtlety didn't really seem to be something Cloud was good at. Aerith was pretty sure he was more expressive than he let on; it just happened that most of the time, he felt miserable. Currently, Cloud's brows had been furrowed slightly in an expression of pain, lips downturned slightly and posture slightly hunched, glowing blue eyes twitching from side to side. Truth be told, that was how he had looked most of the day since he'd come to in the church.

The real tell, however, was that Cloud's gaze was constantly snapping towards every food stall they'd passed by, quickly followed up by his brows furrowing deeper over his eyes and looking away in shame. He hadn't said anything, and probably had been hoping that she wasn't watching him at all, but how couldn't she pay attention? When he wasn't looking vaguely shellshocked by maneuvering through the crowds of people enjoying themselves in Wall Market's neon-lit streets, he was obviously forcing himself to stay focused and alert.

Aerith couldn't blame him, really. He couldn't have gotten that much sleep before he'd tried to sneak out of her home - which she knew was because of her mother's own "suggestion", something she hadn't been happy about in the first place, as though setting up the guest room was a task far enough away to not overhear the conversation - and between Cloud picking awkwardly at his food during dinner, and all the fighting and walking they'd been doing now, plus... her own brows furrowed. Actually, after Madam M had dolled her up in her new fancy dress, she'd tracked Cloud down at the gym, shaky and out of breath, but holding a champion's belt.

She frowned as she looked him over. He really didn't know how to take a break, did he?

Come to think of it, she was feeling pretty hungry, too, though she was pretty sure she had nothing on how awful Cloud probably felt. If he wasn't going to look after himself, well, someone had to, right?

Luckily, she wouldn't have to take them out of their way to get something to eat. The materia vendor had directed them to the restaurant, saying that last he knew, the owner had the dress maker's "inspiration".

A restaurant that they were pretty close to, now, nestled in a corner right behind the materia pops. Beside her, Cloud seemed to recognize where they were, and gave a quiet groan. "Do we have to."

She smiled sweetly. "Well, the guy said he has the inspiration, right? We might as well ask while we're here!"

"I guess. Let's make this quick."

Aerith made sure to take Cloud by the hand as she led him inside. The restaurant was well-lit, though only a few people were inside. The smell of cooking meat had gotten to Cloud quickly, his stomach giving a deep, longing groan. He quickly folded his arms across his chest and looked away, face turning red. She couldn't help but think about how the noise had honestly been a little impressive, before shoving the thought away.

The restaurant owner looked up from behind the counter. "Welcome! Feel free to take any open seats."

Before she could say anything, Cloud responded, "We're not here to eat." A statement his stomach loudly voiced its displeasure with, which he tried to pretend not to hear. "The materia seller said you had someone's inspiration. We need it."

"Materia seller?" The older man frowned in thought, before laughing. "Ohhh, you're here for that. I'm surprised -- didn't take you for the type." Before Cloud could ask what he meant by that, he said, "Lemme ask you something. Either of you know anything about cooking?"

Cloud released a hand from its post against his stomach to wiggle it from side to side.

Aerith, however, nodded. "I know enough! I help my mom with it."

"Glad to hear it." Cloud started to frown when he sensed that this was going to lead into a request for help. "For some reason, my food doesn't taste nearly as good as it used to. I was hoping one of the two of you could help me out. I've narrowed it down to the fridge, the stove, or the power supply, but I'm not sure what's to blame."

Aerith could tell Cloud was mentally checking out of the conversation when he pulled out some materia, rotating it in his hand and trying very hard to ignore his stomach's complaints. Fair enough; of the two of them, she was probably the most confident with this. "I can probably help, but we don't work for free!"

That caught Cloud's attention; he shot her a bewildered look.

Ignoring it, Aerith set their terms. "If we help you, you'll let us eat for free, right? As thanks?"

Cloud balked. "What? But what about--"

"It's a deal, young lady," the restaranteur said with a smile.

Cloud's shoulders sank as he watched Aerith bounce over to the older man, anxiety bubbling up in his chest. They didn't have the time to wait here. Not that they had anything else really left on their agenda, so it wasn't like he could fuck off somewhere and get something else done... and if Aerith was going to insist on helping this man, then there really wasn't anything he could do. He wasn't going to just leave her alone in Wall Market, even if she knew more about the area than he did. He was still technically on the clock for bodyguarding, anyway.

He hadn't noticed Aerith return to his side until she carefully took him by the arm, causing him to flinch slightly before remembering who he was with. "Uh. Where to now?"

Aerith turned her lips down in a little pout, vivid green eyes looking stubbornly into his. "We're gonna sit, first."

He didn't move as Aerith tried to pull him to the counter. "What about Tifa? We don't have *time* for this."

Another tug. "Actually, since we're still waiting for the third candidate to be approved, we do. Corneo already knows to wait until they get approval or not. Besides, he's already waiting for me, right?"

"I... guess." Cloud was relenting a little bit, but not enough to actually sit. "Wait. What do you mean, third candidate."

Aerith shrugged innocently. "Someone might've caught Andrea Rhodea's eye. Anyway, I get the feeling we're going to have a long night ahead of us." And then she turned on the pleading puppy eyes. "Come on, Cloud. Please?"

Cloud stared at her for a few moments before sighing. "Fine. But I'm not eating." Feeling a little defeated, he finally sat on a stool at the counter, quietly praying that his stomach wouldn't betray him again. Really, he'd been doing fine going without! It wasn't like he had a choice in the matter, and he was pretty sure he felt too on edge to change that now. Aerith sat beside him, and he noticed that she looked just a little frustrated. He... supposed he didn't really blame her.

And she was a little frustrated. She didn't understand why he was fighting her on this so hard. He got hungry like anybody else would, right? It wasn't a big deal! They'd been so busy here anyway, between all the fighting in the colosseum and all the running around town, that she would've wanted to stop for a little while just to not feel totally exhausted.

Was he just... used to working like this? Aerith didn't like that thought. If that was the case, then she definitely needed to make sure that Cloud got an actually substantial meal in him. They sat quietly together for a few minutes before Cloud's stomach decided it had been ignored for long enough, and decided to break the silence.

GrrrrrgrgrrgrgrgrOOOWwl... rr-rr grroooohlg... ggggGROOOWL...

She couldn't stop herself from abruptly turning her head to look at Cloud, who looked absolutely mortified, eyes wider than she'd ever seen them, one hand pressed hard against his stomach and the other now trying to hide his expression from her, acting as though he could disappear if she couldn't see him. That had sounded off for... at least 15 seconds. Way longer and louder than he was okay with.

"Sorry," he said in a voice quiet enough that she almost didn't hear him. Really, what Cloud wanted to say was 'I'm gonna go kill myself now', but he figured that probably would be less acceptable. Worse still was that his stomach apparently had no qualms about humiliating him further by continuing to grumble and growl far too audibly for his taste, like it was a freshly turned on coffee maker. He sunk a little further down towards the counter, trying to avoid all eye contact.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Aerith said, keeping her voice low for Cloud's benefit. She reached for the hand covering his face to take it; Cloud didn't fight her, instead fidgeting a little when she held his hand between both of hers. "It's normal, you know? We've been pretty busy tonight."

The most Cloud did was make a skeptical noise and keep his head turned away. Finally, he admitted, "Guess we have been."

"So it's only natural that we're hungry again," Aerith said, choosing her words carefully. Maybe it'd be less embarrassing for him if she included herself? Really, though, she was still worried the most about him; he was just so skinny, and she was surprised that he could fight as hard as he did, considering how unwell he looked. That, and he certainly didn't act like a person who had anyone actively looking out for him... not that she really had any expectations there, but he was skittish and resistant enough that she got the feeling that people paying attention to how he was actually doing was a rare thing for him. "Nothing to be ashamed of."

Cloud looked at her long enough to make a face - frowning and furrowing one of his brows, like this concept was a new one to him - before glancing away again.

And then his expression quickly shifted into one of more active interest when the owner came back with a large wooden platter and set it down on the counter in front of him; he had to force himself to stamp down the interest and look more neutral as the emptiness of his stomach contracted in on itself painfully. No, he had absolutely no interest whatsoever in any of the sushi on the plate; the larger, bright orange sweet potatoes wrapped in rice and seaweed didn't catch his attention, nor did the rolls topped with verdant green avocado and barbecue-slathered eel and rice surrounding tempura shrimp. Off to the side was cold fried tofu pockets with rice inside, and...

...this was a lot, actually. There was a lot of sushi. Definitely more than remotely reasonable for one person to have on their own, and possibly even for two people. Aerith was determined on this front, wasn't she?

Even if Cloud was trying hard not to look interested... well, he was still staring.

He was brought back to his senses when Aerith put a pair of chopsticks in one of his hands and poured out some soy sauce for the both of them. He opened his mouth to protest, but all he could manage was a quiet, "I, uh..."

Any protests Cloud had were dying in his throat. The pout Aerith was shooting his way wasn't helping him any, but... ugh. His stomach felt like it was going to implode in on itself, and... if he didn't eat this, it would be a waste, wouldn't it? This wasn't exactly something that would keep for anyone who went dumpster diving later... and it was getting increasingly more difficult to deny that he was starving. Now that there was food in front of them, his stomach was cramping and twisting relentlessly, growling continuously and ravenously.

He didn't miss the smile that spread across Aerith's face when he finally took a piece of a dragon roll, and embarrassment colored his cheeks with a tinge of pink. Briefly dipping it into the soy sauce dish, he popped it into his mouth, and-- oh. He couldn't stop himself from quietly moaning over the soft sweetness of the eel, the slight vinegar of the rice combined with the saltiness of the soy sauce. Looking a little mortified, he looked away, but... still. Cloud couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten anything that'd tasted so good.

Even better, his stomach hadn't rebelled against having something finally inside it. It felt weird, but it hadn't made him nauseous, either.

Breaking out into a purr, he started to eat faster, instead of eyeing it all like it might kill him. He didn't even stop to take a drink, all of his attention span now focused solely on filling his stomach with as much as he comfortably could. His visceral hunger quickly overrode his anxiety, shoveling in the sweet and slightly tangy sushi into his mouth and having to force himself to chew instead of swallowing it all down whole.

What finally stopped him was the sudden pressure in his stomach that informed him that he wasn't going to have much luck in the way of eating more than an entire maki roll and some of the inari. He felt a little better... he felt, at least for the moment, full, though he still felt the strong pull of not feeling satiated, of wanting to eat more. He supposed he wasn't surprised that his stomach had shrunk significantly over the years, whatever he'd been doing in them, but...

Cloud gave a quiet sigh.

He still felt deeply, deeply hungry.

It was better than feeling so achingly hollow, though, and the growling had finally dissipated.

It'd have to be good enough.

[jared-19-cant-reid]

Sunday Kind of Love

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: You need a date to your sister’s wedding, and Spencer begrudgingly agrees to help you out. Your feelings for him become difficult to hide, and Spencer really commits to his role as your “boyfriend”.

Word Count: 5.3K

Content Warnings: Family conflict, minor angst, unprotected sex, Dom!Spencer/Sub!Reader, bondage, daddy kink, spitting, choking, breath play, exhibitionism/public sex, teensy bit of sacrilege

Author’s Note: This fic idea came to me while I was listening to “A Sunday Kind of Love” by Etta James, so I’d highly recommend listening to it if you read the fic. Gives you the ~vibe~. Anyway, this is way longer than I expected but Spencer and reader deserved the extra time! I hope u enjoy :)

~

“C’mon, just make an appearance with me!” You pleaded. “It’s just one night! How bad can it be?” I didn’t even believe the words as they came out of my mouth.

Morgan snorted at that, shaking his head as he moved to exit the bullpen. “Sorry, kid. I love you, but I am not spending my night off at your bitchy sister’s wedding.” 

You sighed, reluctantly stepping aside to allow him to leave. Beginning to lose hope, you turned to your only remaining coworker. Spencer was still sitting at his desk, busying himself with organizing drawers and repositioning folders to avoid meeting your gaze as you approached his desk.

“Spencer, please come with me tonight. I can’t deal with my sister alone, and I think I might die if I have to explain to her that the guy I told her I was bringing ghosted me last week.” As you spoke, you watched him try to think of a way to protect your feelings without going. In the year you’d worked at the BAU you’d come to see everyone on the team as family, but it was Reid you felt closest to. When he didn’t respond immediately, you put your hand on his shoulder. “Spence, I need you.” You spoke quietly, but he heard you clearly.

He looked up at you at your last words, visibly conflicted. You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, and he sighed, standing up. Knowing you had won, you threw your arms around his neck in a hug, nearly sending the two of you tumbling over in your enthusiasm. He tentatively wrapped his arms around you, returning the gesture of affection. 

His touch brought with it feelings of peace and happiness that you had come to associate with Spencer. Your smile grew impossibly wider as you thanked him a million and one times, squeezing him tightly as you felt relief spread through your body. Forcing yourself to pull away, you noticed his lips had quirked up into a small smile at your reaction.

“You know, almost twenty percent of weddings are called off. There’s still a chance it won’t even happen.” Spencer mumbled as you walked out together. You weren’t sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself. As you reached the garage, you thanked him again for agreeing to be your date. He just nodded, visibly nervous about the event.

You stopped him before he could start walking to the metro. “Let me drive you home,” you insisted, “it’ll be faster and we can talk over our game plan on the way!”

“Game plan?” He questioned, amused at your choice of words.

“Just pretend we’re going undercover on a case! We’ll get into character and everything. This can be fun if we make it fun.” Spencer seemed unconvinced, but he followed you to your car.

As you drove to his place, Spencer seemed to relax as he started to plan, happy to gain some control over the situation. You knew he hated big events, especially ones with a lot of strangers, but your deep dislike for most of your sister’s invite list meant you’d at least suffer together. Pulling up to the curb, you said a quick goodbye, telling him to be ready in an hour.

When you got home, you jumped through the shower, scrubbing off the stress of the work day to allow family-related stress to take its place. You quickly blew your hair dry, putting more effort into your hair and makeup than you usually did. As you reached your closet, you scanned your dresses for one that would match the maroon tie Spencer planned on wearing. A smile spread across your lips when you spotted it, your fingers toying with the soft fabric as you imagined Spencer’s reaction when he saw it. 

You tried to push the thought away, sighing at your own hopelessness. You’d been trying to bury your feelings for Spencer ever since you joined the BAU, but it was a losing battle. You found it impossible to ignore him, despite your efforts to remain neutral in his presence. Your heart swelled at the excitement shining in his soft hazel eyes, skipped a beat at the sight of his tongue resting between his lips in concentration, and stopped altogether at the way his hands moved and flexed when he spoke. The opportunity to spend this much one-on-one time with Spencer in what you were sure would be an incredibly flattering suit was almost worth the stress of dealing with your family. 

You slipped on the soft satin dress, admiring how it hugged your curves and flowed around your legs. The plunging v-neck was flattering, but tasteful enough to stave off disapproving looks from older guests, leaving you comfortable and confident. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your appearance as you would a stranger’s. The face that looked back at you was friendly but tense, hands fiddling restlessly with the soft fabric of your dress. It didn’t take a profiler to see you needed to relax.

Taking a deep breath, you cleared your mind, taking a few minutes to give your mind rest and ground yourself. Opening your eyes again, your reflection looked much more peaceful, nodding as you decided you were ready to leave. As you drove to Spencer’s, you felt your heartbeat quickening, this time from excitement instead of stress. 

Knocking softly, you were surprised to hear Spencer’s footsteps already nearing you, as if he had been waiting by the door. As he stepped outside, your breath hitched. You shouldn’t be so affected by the sight of him, it’s not like he’d never worn a suit in front of you before. It was mostly the look on his face that struck you, his lips slightly parted and eyes scanning your body as he took in the sight of you. 

“So what do you think? Good enough to pass for a put-together adult who hasn’t been dreading this day for months?” You asked.

He took a second to respond. “Y-yeah, you… you definitely shouldn’t worry about it. I mean you look great- not that you don’t usually look great it’s just-”

You interrupted him for his own sake, giggling a soft “thank you, Spence. You don’t look half bad yourself.” Understatement of the century.

Soft music played through the speakers in your car, soothing your nerves as you hummed along to “A Sunday Kind of Love” quietly. You almost jumped when you heard Spencer begin to hum with you. 

“You know this song?! I didn’t know you listened to any non-classical music!” You exclaimed, unreasonably excited at your discovery.

“I’ve heard you listening to Etta James on the jet a couple times, so I checked out a couple of her songs,” Spencer said simply. You tried to pretend your heart hadn’t just exploded at the implications behind his words. You couldn’t trust your voice to mask your overflowing adoration for the man beside you, so you just smiled and began to sing along quietly.

Oh I'm hoping to discover

A certain kind of lover

Who will show me the way

Lost in the music, you were surprised for the second time that car ride by Spencer’s voice joining yours to sing the chorus. Your eyes shot to his face, but he kept his eyes forward, a small smile the only sign he’d seen your reaction. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face as you sang with him, his attempts at melody bringing a smile to your face. The words seemed to gain meaning as your voices joined together, both looking forward but focused fully on each other.

To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold

Love for all my life to have and to hold

Oh and I want a Sunday kind of love

Before you knew it, you had arrived. It was as if the bubble that had protected you from the reality of the situation had popped, leaving you exposed to the harsh world that lay waiting for you. Spencer reached out and squeezed your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence, his support, unwavering as you faced the night together.

Nodding slightly, you let go of his hand and stepped out of the car. Spencer walked beside you to the entrance of the church, close enough that you could feel his body heat. As you got closer, you groaned internally at the sight of your mother. 

A fake smile stretched across her lips, nodding at a woman whose outfit was so brightly colored you nearly had to look away from the glare. Her smile dropped for a split second when she saw you, but quickly returned with twice the artificial sweetness as before. She called out your name, voice straining with the effort it took to sound happy to see you. 

“This can’t be the boy you’ve been seeing! Much more handsome than I expected, how much did he cost you? Just kidding, of course.” Her laugh was somehow faker than her smile. You saw Spencer tense up beside you, and opened your mouth to correct her. She wouldn’t openly admit it, but you were sure your mother would be smug about the fact you and Spencer were just friends.

Before you could say anything, Spencer’s next words sent you reeling.

“Actually, I’m her boyfriend. Glad to finally meet you.” He said as politely as he could, though you could tell he disliked her already. Spencer had never had much patience for people who made jokes at others’ expense. 

You were still processing what he’d just said when his arm wrapped around you, gripping your waist. The feeling of his hands on your body was almost too much for you, and you struggled to pay attention as your mother smiled and made smalltalk with Spencer that walked the line between passive aggressiveness and outright hostility.

You finally registered what was happening when your mother made some excuse to leave, off to emotionally torture a new victim. Your head whipped to face Spencer, your mouth hanging open, confusion written on your face. 

“Why did you-” you began, interrupted by Spencer’s panicked words laced with regret.

“I’m so sorry, I know we didn’t plan on pretending to be a couple tonight, but she just seemed so smug about it and I wasn’t thinking clearly and I just-” he rushed out. Now it was your turn to cut him off.

“Spencer, thank you. I’m not mad, I promise.” You leaned into his chest, the arm still wrapped around you tightening. “I guess we’ll just have to pretend we’re dating for the rest of tonight, though.”

The two of you slowly made your way into the church, stopping a few times to chat with relatives who called out to you. Everyone was charmed by Spencer, who played the part of your boyfriend remarkably well. You found seats on the right, farthest from the aisle in an attempt to limit your interaction with other guests. Sitting down, you remembered how uncomfortable church pews were, the hours you’d spent in mass with your family all coming back to you now. 

Looking around, however, you were reminded of what had gotten you through it. The stained glass windows that surrounded you created a kaleidoscope in your field of vision, capturing your attention for long enough to forget why you had been uncomfortable in the first place. You looked back at Spencer to find him already looking at you, sending a small blush to your cheeks. 

“Did you know that stained glass was originally used in Catholic churches to tell stories from the Bible visually for the benefit of illiterate churchgoers? During the English Reformation, many stained glass windows were smashed and destroyed as part of the 1547 Injunctions against images. In fact, all images in churches were ordered to be removed. If it weren’t for that period in history, more stained glass would likely have- sorry, I’m doing it again.” Spencer’s eyes were cast down at the floor, only to shoot back up to your face when he felt your hand on his.

“I like listening to you. Why did they want to destroy all the images in churches?” You asked, leaving Spencer speechless for a second, seemingly unable to process your request for him to continue his rambling. With a small smile, he continued to explain the importance of the English Reformation to religious art as you watched him adoringly.

The ceremony started all too soon, pulling your attention to the front of the church. As you and Spencer listened to the seemingly endless stream of anecdotes about love and life that the pastor had clearly spent years reciting, your eyes started to glaze over. You pushed thoughts about marriage and family and religion out of your mind, preferring emptiness. Your mind didn’t stay blank for long, though.

Apparently Spencer had noticed your change in mood, because he brought his hand to rest on your thigh in a comforting gesture of solidarity. Unfortunately, you were unable to respond in any way, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hand flattened against the satin fabric of your dress.  His thumb beginning to rub small circles into your skin, you felt your heart rate quicken. The warmth he brought to your thigh began to spread through your body, suddenly finding the church unbearably hot. 

Spencer seemed unaffected by the room’s sudden warming, keeping his gaze locked on the happy couple. You took a shaky breath and tried to calm yourself down, reminding yourself that you were overreacting to what was likely a completely platonic display of affection. The ceremony seemed to drag on for hours, but that might have had something to do with the constant effort it took to mask the desire and panic that Spencer’s touch had ignited in you. 

You were broken from your trance of concentration by the feeling of his hand inching higher on your leg. Whipping your head around to face him, his gaze remained fixed on the pastor, pressing his lips together to hide a smirk. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Spencer’s hand slowly make its way up your thigh, paralyzed by shock and desperation. His grip tightened as he glanced at your face, reading your reaction to his touch. Before you had a chance to respond, it was withdrawn, the world around you coming back into focus as everyone began to clap. The ceremony was over. 

When you went to stand up after the recessional, you nearly stumbled on your weak legs. Spencer stabilized you, guiding you through the pews and through the hallways with his hand on your lower back. As you followed the crowd to the banquet hall, the gears in your mind were turning slower than usual, as if they had rusted in the time you hadn’t allowed them to work through the idea of Spencer returning your feelings. Finding your seats, you and Spencer were faced with one of the greatest challenges of your night: extended conversation with your family and their similarly judgemental friends.

The overlapping chatter of so many people at once was clearly bothering Spencer, but he stuck it out for your sake. You felt a tug in your chest at the thought of the effort it must be taking for him to stay in such an uncomfortable situation. He played his part beautifully, though, responding to the borderline offensive questions directed at you politely but firmly, protecting you from their attacks. Your sister would usually have led the onslaught, but thankfully she was preoccupied yelling at the photographer for some suggestion she’d taken as a personal slight. 

When Spencer struggled to answer questions about your “relationship”, you took over. He had never been a good liar, and while you loved that about him, you knew it could blow your cover if you allowed him to continue.

In your story, the two of you still worked at the BAU, having started dating a few months after you joined. You threw in small details from your countless daydreams, centering them around real events so that the tale was completely believable. Maybe too believable, you worried, feeling Spencer’s eyes on you as you talked. Under the protection of a lie, you had finally been free to speak the truth, pouring a year’s worth of pining and affection into your words as you concocted a love story you wished was real. 

You heard a band start to play, a bluesy vocalist at the center of the ensemble. The music filled the hall as the newlyweds rose for their first dance. A small crowd gathered around the pair as they moved in synchrony, every step practiced and planned. A few songs later, many couples were swaying together, tonight’s celebration of love bringing out the romantic in most. 

You turned to Spencer, nodding your head at the band. “We should probably dance for a song or two, just for appearance’s sake.” Spencer looked uncomfortable, but nodded and followed you closer to the source of the music.

Raising your hand to his shoulder while his landed on your hip, you felt a warmth spread through you as you joined hands. Fingers intertwining, you began to move along with the slow song that had been playing, stumbling at first but moving more smoothly as time went on. You had no idea how many songs passed while the two of you swayed, apprehension and desire swirling in the air between you. It took a second for you to notice it, but as soon as you did, Spencer’s small smile told you he had as well. 

The smooth vocals of the singer sounded even more lovely on Etta James’s familiar melody, filling you with an intense emotion you couldn’t put words to.

I want a Sunday kind of love

A love to last past Saturday night

And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight

And I want a Sunday kind of love

The feeling in your chest grew as you looked into Spencer’s eyes as the song continued, your chest threatening to burst with whatever magical dust you’d inhaled from the shared breath between your faces. Wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder, you were overcome with a feeling of safety and contentment as he returned your embrace. You swayed together as you began to ponder the cliches you’d always despised, begrudgingly admitting that you now understood the sentiment that nothing in the world mattered but the two of you.

As the song ended, you gathered up all the courage you had, and spoke before your mind could think through the possible negative outcomes of what you were suggesting.

“I need to tell you something,” you started. You felt his grip on you tighten, as if afraid what you would say next would take him from you, but he let you continue. “I think I love you, Spencer.”

He didn’t respond, but you felt him pull away from you. You felt cold without the contact, but it was nothing compared to the loss you felt in your chest as you realized what you’d done. He didn’t feel the same way.

You opened your mouth to apologize, to try to undo the damage you’d done, but before you could say anything he was dragging you toward a hallway. Overcome with confusion and fear of losing him, you didn’t realize where you were going until Spencer opened the door to the single-use bathroom and pulled you inside.

“Spence-” you began, the rest of whatever you had been about to say swallowed by Spencer’s lips as they moved against yours with urgency, his hands coming to cup your face gently. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, the coldness you’d felt replaced by the warmest light filling your chest.

Your hands found his hair, pulling him closer to you as you tried to eliminate any space left between your bodies. A frantic mess of hands and lips exploring any exposed skin, you stumbled backwards with the force of Spencer’s kiss, hearing the door lock as your back hit the cold wood. Your hands slipped under his suit jacket, moaning at the feeling of his firm body under your hands. He shrugged it off completely, allowing the jacket to fall on the floor, his germophobia trumped by his need to feel your warmth. 

You moaned into his mouth as his hands wandered your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. As the kiss became more heated, you noticed that he seemed to withdraw whenever he noticed his touch had gotten rougher, clearly holding back so he wouldn’t hurt you. You smiled into the kiss at the care he showed for you, but your desire to see him fully let go was too strong to allow it to continue. You weren’t sure exactly what he was willing to do, but you took your second biggest risk of the night, showing him what you wanted.

Finding his hand on your body, you laced your fingers between his, kissing him sweetly before pulling away with an innocent look on your face. Spencer stared down at you, confusion clear on his face. You brought his hand up to your mouth, kissing the back of it before moving your hand to his wrist. He watched you intently, unsure what you were doing. Staring up at him with an angelic smile, you brought his hand to your neck, his fingers curling around it instinctively.

 As he realized what you were asking of him, his eyes darkened and his grip around your neck tightened. “This is what you wanted, huh?” He spoke lowly, a small smirk forming on his lips. “So needy for me. Would’ve let me fuck you in front of all those people back there, practically shaking just from my hand on your thigh.”

You whimpered, turned on beyond belief by this new side of Spencer. His smirk widened at your reaction to his words, pressing his body against yours, his hardness pressing into you. 

“Feel that? Feel what you do to me?” He growled. “Let me show you how I deal with pretty little whores like you.” He stepped away from you, eyes hungrily raking over your body as he began to unbuckle his belt. You just stood there, watching his hands as your mind flashed back to all the times you’d imagined this happening. Somehow this was even better than your wildest imagination had been able to conjure.

“What are you waiting for? Get on your knees” He spat out. The words shot straight to your core, and without hesitation you dropped to your knees in front of him. You watched as he pulled the belt from its loops, but frowned in confusion when he didn’t discard it. He walked around behind you, grabbing each of your wrists and pulling them together. Oh. When he was sure the belt wasn’t too tight, he whispered in your ear how pretty you looked tied up for him, your whimper at the words causing him to let out a dark chuckle.

He returned to the front of you, leaning down to toy with your bottom lip. “Show me you deserve to suck my cock, princess.” He instructed, slipping his thumb into your mouth. You moaned around his finger at that, and instinctively began sucking on the digit. You hollowed your cheeks around it, running your tongue along the length of his thumb before pulling back to swirl your tongue around the tip. He must have approved of your demonstration, because he removed his thumb, pulling down the clothing restricting him in one motion. 

Your eyes widened at his size, his smirk growing when you leaned forward instinctively to take him into your mouth. When he grabbed your hair to stop you, you looked up at him in confusion. 

“Good girls ask for permission.” Your eyes fluttered shut at that, wanting nothing more than to be good for him. 

“Please, let me suck you off, I want you in my mouth,” you begged. He seemed pleased, his hand still in your hair pulling you forward. When your lips wrapped around his cock the hand on your head pushed you down roughly, making you take all of him into your mouth, the tip pressing hard against the back of your throat. You moaned through the gag, your panties likely soaked by now from your arousal at his dominance. 

As he began to fuck your throat, you wrapped your lips around him tightly, timing your breaths so you wouldn’t have to stop for air. Words of praise mixed with degradation fell from his lips as he worked your mouth on him. Tears pricked at your eyes at the feeling of him against your throat, spilling over as he continued his ruthless pace. 

When he pulled you off of him, a dark smile appeared on Spencer’s face at your disheveled state. He pulled you up so you were standing before him, hands still bound behind your back. He stepped back to admire you.

“Look at you, such a mess for me. What do you want, pretty girl?” He asked, voice still commanding but much softer now, genuinely checking in with you.

“I want you, please, need it so bad,” you practically moaned. He moved forward to meet your mouth with his, one hand coming to rest around your throat while the other gripped your hair, fully in control of your movements. He pulled your hair back, breaking the kiss as he tilted your head up to look him in the eyes. 

“Jump.” He commanded. You didn’t hesitate, wrapping your legs around him as he walked you over to the sink, setting you down on the cold porcelain. His mouth rejoined with yours the second you felt the bowl of the sink digging into you. As Spencer’s hands roamed your body, he lost patience with your dress, pulling it down so your tits spilled out of the top. You moaned as he took one nipple into his mouth, a skilled hand toying with the other. His other hand lowered to the hem of your dress, pushing it up to gain full access to you.

Spencer moaned against your chest as he felt the dampness of your panties, soaked all the way through before he had even started to pleasure you. His fingers ran up and down over the wet fabric, applying pressure over your clit that sent your eyes rolling back. You made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact when he withdrew his hand, but were quickly silenced by a hand over your mouth.

“You’ll take what I give you, slut.” Spencer gritted out, tearing your panties off with the last word. His hand came up to your entrance, teasing you as his fingers ran up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness, he moved up to your clit, rubbing circles that left you moaning uncontrollably into his hand. “Can you snap for me, baby?” He asked. You were confused, but you did anyway. “Good girl. That’s your safeword for when you can’t talk.”

Before you could read too much into the statement, he plunged a finger deep into you, causing you to arch your back into him. Your moans still muffled by his hand, he set a brutal pace, adding another finger when he felt you start to clench around him. Tightening his hand over your mouth and nose, he cut off your breath as you approached your peak, your eyes glazing over with pleasure. The high of the lack of oxygen along with the haze that came with this level of submission left you fully pliant, his to play with how he wanted.

Right as your lungs began to burn, your orgasm shook your body, and Spencer let go at that exact moment. The relief of oxygen once again flooding your lungs added on to the euphoria that overtook you, your body shaking as you came down from your high. 

You didn’t have much time to recover, as you were brought back to reality with the sensation of the tip of Spencer’s cock teasing your slit. The overstimulation shook you, but with every second your need to feel him inside of you grew stronger. Your whimpers turned into pleas, and in your desperate state you didn’t realize what you were saying until it was too late.

“What was that?” Spencer asked, withdrawing completely.

“I-I’m sorry, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to, I’ll never-” you were interrupted by an unexpected demand.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say. It. Again.” Spencer gritted out, his eyes darkening with each word.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You said shakily.

A look of satisfaction came over Spencer’s face as he slammed into you without warning, setting a rough pace. You began to chant his new title, and his hand came up to choke you, fingers pressing into your carotid arteries just beneath your jaw. He wasn’t putting any pressure on your windpipe, but your lightheadedness from the reduced blood flow made it feel harder to breathe, the feeling of being owned by the man you loved only intensifying your pleasure. 

Spencer towered over you as he continued his assault, his other hand coming up to muffle your moans by allowing you to suck on his fingers. When he withdrew them to pay attention to your body elsewhere, he was confused to see you stick out your tongue. When the wave of understanding washed over him, he couldn’t hold back his smile. Bringing his hand up to trace your cheek, he looked at you lovingly before spitting in your mouth, watching in awe as you eagerly swallowed and met him with an innocent smile that contrasted beautifully with your actions. 

As you began to feel the knot in your stomach building again, Spencer increased his pace. Bringing one of his fingers to your clit, Spencer knew you were nearing the edge, and fast. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He ordered.

You obliged, Spencer’s kiss swallowing the moans spilling from your mouth. He followed soon after, sent into ecstasy by the image and sensation of you coming apart under him. As he filled you up, you felt a bliss that you’d never experienced before, using your lips to show him how he’d affected you as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. When you eventually parted, it was quiet for a moment. 

As Spencer helped you off the sink and removed the belt from your wrists, massaging the tender skin, you began to laugh. It started out as a small giggle, but it soon turned into a full belly laugh, bringing tears to your eyes. Spencer was taken aback at first, but son couldn’t help but join you. You both laughed until your stomachs hurt, and when you could finally speak again your first words were “we just had sex in a church bathroom.” 

Holding back another bout of laughter, Spencer responded, “I have to say, this wasn’t how I imagined tonight going.” He took a step towards you, arms lacing around your waist. “I’m not complaining, though.”

You pulled him down to meet him in a kiss, your teeth clacking as neither of you could hold back your smiles. When you broke apart, Spencer’s forehead stayed pressed against yours. “I love you,” he said quietly, “I have for a long time now. I just never thought you would feel the same way.”

You couldn’t hold back the happy tears that formed in the corners of your eyes.  Wordlessly, you pulled him into a hug, your bodies coming together like two pieces of a puzzle that had finally been connected. You stayed there for a while, just feeling each other breathe. 

In a few minutes, you’d sneak out the back door of the church. In a few minutes, you’d leave the room with no need for lies to excuse your shared affection. In a few minutes, you’d have to deal with the paperwork that Hotch would inevitably require. But for these last few minutes, all you had to do was hold each other. For now, you were just two people in love, and that was enough.

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor… - c.2

Summary: Penny continues to have some questions about the assignment, but thankfully professor Marshall is right there to help her out

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter // Next Chapter

My second criminology class, I was feeling a bit under the weather, but like the real die hard that I am, confusing to give in and rest (which would’ve be the better idea), I continued to go to class. I hid part of my face behind my scarf, while I would take a sip of my tea every now and then. I barely absorbed anything that class and professor Marshall must’ve noticed, because he didn’t call for me the entire class.

Thankfully.

But now I feel better and am going to make up for my lack of attention last class. While the the class can be pretty gore, it has become my favorite class, partially because I really like professor Marshall.

No wait, solely because I like professor Marshall.

I don’t want to admit it, but I kinda went out of my way to look presentable for class. I spend my entire life being invisible, unnoticed, but that’s not the case in this class. It’s nice to be acknowledged (I could do without Fitzgerald, who continues to creepily stare from a distance). I put on some lipstick, that matches my blush pink sweater.

Professor Marshall looks up from his notes when I walk in the lecture hall, one corner of his mouth curled up a bit. ‘Morning,’ he says, his tone low and brass.

‘Good morning,’ I say softly, walking towards my assigned seat. Since last class happened in a blur, I am going to pay extra attention to this one.

It is hard though, to focus. We have to understand the crime scene, trying to dissect what happened exactly. However, all the blood, fake or not, makes me want to vomit. I swallow hard and thankfully professor Marshall is skipping over me.

Until…

‘Miss Townsend,’ the professor says, ‘overlap between the victims. I want at four points.’

Four points? Is he for real? That’s a lot. I hate that I made a sort of good point the first class. I have to live up to that expectation now.

Think, Penny, think. ‘All victims are fathers,’ I start, ‘white collar workers and have a brunette wife.’ I try to remember what he told us about and what I read prior to this class. ‘They had affairs with someone they worked with, someone who worked a job that paid less than theirs.’

‘And what does that tell you?’

‘The killer has a type,’ I say, but from the looks of it, he wants more. ‘The victims are carefully picked out, maybe because… These men remind the killer of someone?’

He nods. ‘Exactly.’

I let out a deep relieved sigh, knowing that there is a possibility that he won’t pick me again. I see Fitzgerald looking over his shoulder, to basically gawk at me. He is going out of his way to say intelligent stuff during classes, but everything that leaves his lips is… Bullshit.

After the class ended, I stay for a bit, because of course I have another question. I might not be entirely stupid, but academically gifted is not applicable to me. ‘Professor Marshall,’ I say, as I walk towards him.

‘Miss Townsend,’ he says, ‘you did well today in class.’

‘Oh.’ Stupid me, blushing again. ‘Thank you. I have another question about the assignment.’

‘Why?’

Did he seriously just asked me why? I start to stammer a bit, taken aback from his retort.  How am I supposed to answer that? Maybe just stick with the truth? ‘Because I don’t understand.’

‘What don’t you understand?’

‘The case I chose,’ I say.

‘You have time at four?’ he asks. ‘To meet me in my office? I can help you out.’

I nod with a smile. I am going to his office! ‘Yes, thank you, sir.’

‘Where are your glasses?’ he asks, placing the presenter on the table.

He noticed that I wasn’t wearing my glasses today? Is it because I look stupid without them? ‘In my bag,’ I answer. ‘I sometimes switch between lenses and glasses. Why?’

Professor Marshall shrugs. ‘Just wondering. See you at four. Sharp.’

✎ ✎ ✎

I knock on professor Marshall’s office door at four sharp (I mean, he felt the need to emphasis it, so I should be on time, right?) and he says: ‘Come in.’ I open the door, to see him sitting behind his desk.

‘Is that… a chair?’ I ask, pointing to the pretty comfortable looking chair on the my side of the desk.

Professor Marshall nods. ‘I didn’t want you to stand,’ he says. ‘Don’t get used to it though. I plan on removing this thing as soon as you leave.’ He smirks. ‘It gives me the creeps. I usually don’t like people hanging around  in my office. Whether that is at NYU or the MPD.’

I take a seat and blink my eyes a few times. Gosh, I don’t think I have ever wore my lenses this long and they start to hurt a bit. Just keep them in for a few more moments. Be subtle. ‘My question is about the literature.’

Professor Marshall tilts his head. ‘Are you okay, miss— Penny?’

Apparently I’m not at all subtle. ‘Just my lenses, that’s it.’

‘You can take them out. Please, go ahead.’

Thankfully I brought my stuff with me and I grab my bag, searching for my glasses and lenses case. ‘The literature that is required for the assignment… There isn’t a list provided by you and I have a hard time finding some.’ I remove one of my lenses and continue to take out the other. Gosh, the relief. I put the glasses on and place both cases in the backpack.

‘I can email you a list of literature you can use,’ he says. ‘Why is it giving you difficulties?’

I shrug. ‘I don’t know, professor.’

‘Walter,’ he says.

Huh? ‘Excuse me, what?’

‘It’s after school,’ he continues, ‘so you can quit with calling me professor and start calling me Walter, okay?’

Walter. Seems so personal, so intimate. Not complaining at all, if I’m being honest. I nod. ‘Okay, I’ll try.’

‘Why did you choose psychology, Penny?’ he asks.

That’s a deep question. It’s almost like a first date (if I have to believe the movies, because yours truly never went on a date in her life). Why does he even care? ‘My parents thought it was important I went to university. They wanted me to become a doctor or lawyer, but I’m not that intellectually gifted. Besides, psychology might give me more of an idea of who I am or what I am. I traveled after high school, hoping to figure out who I am, but so far, no luck.’

Professor Marshall nods. ‘And you think criminology is gonna help you with that?’

I chuckle. ‘No, it’s not. Originally, I wanted to go for the child psychology course, to see if I could understand myself better through that, but I missed the enrolling date. It was either criminology or animal behavior.’

‘Animal behavior? That’s a course?’

‘Mhm.’

He nods. ‘Well, you’re really good in criminology,’ he says. ‘We could’ve used you in the force.’

I run my fingers through my hair and smile nervously. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘You noticed the droopy eyelid. Took detectives long enough before they realized that.’

‘Lucky guess.’

Professor Marshall leans back in his seat. ‘You’ve got to stop undermining yourself,’ he notes. ‘You are sharp, notice the details. You have a lot of potential, in this field or any other. I think you just don’t know it yet.’

My cheeks heat up. Is he saying what I think he is saying? ‘Really?’

He nods. ‘Really,’ he confirms. The professor keeps looking at me, but weirdly enough I don’t feel uncomfortable. ‘Tell me something what you want to find out about yourself.’

I clear my throat. ‘I don’t know yet.’

‘Tell me something about yourself then,’ he says. ‘Something that’s a foundation for who you are.’

I bite my lip and try to think of something. What is a foundation of who I am? ‘Well,’ I say, after contemplating for a moment or two, ‘I was adopted after I was left at a Catholic church doorstep when I was few hours old. I was brought to a hospital, where they found out I was a premature baby with heroin in my blood. They never discovered who my parents were.’

‘Oh, Penny,’ he says. ‘I’m so sorry.’

He is sorry for me? I bite my lip, before I say: ‘My adoptive parents are sweet, they really are, but I’m scared sometimes.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, because if I’m that unloveable at a few hours old, I bet I’ll become that later on, you know? Especially when they will find out that I might not even work in this field, because it’s not where my heart is.’

He places his underarms on his desk, folding his hands together. ‘You’re not unloveable,’ he says in a soft tone, ‘you could never be.’

I smile. ‘We’ll just have to see about that.’

The professor squints his eyes for a few seconds, almost as if he is trying to figure me out without asking anymore questions. ‘Tell me, what field has your heart?’

‘Cosmetology school,’ I say. ‘I know, a huge downgrade from this, but… I love stuff like that.’

He is smiling at me. ‘It’s not a downgrade,’ he says, his town a bit lower than before. ‘I bet you would be great at it.’

I clear my throat, a bit taken aback by the impromptu therapy session. ‘Thank you, Walter, for answering my questions. I feel like I’m bombarding you with questions to a point where it gets annoying.’

He shakes his head. ‘Don’t you worry about it, you could never annoy me.’ He grabs a piece of paper and writes something down on it, as I stand up. ‘Here.’

‘What’s that?’

‘My number. If you have another question or anything else, you can always text or call me.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Of course I have another question. Is it inappropriate to ask this much time and attention of your professor? I almost think it is, but I really want to understand the assignment and my other teachers aren’t as nice as Walter.

While I wish I wasn’t doing this entire major, I do want to prove myself, especially in my criminology class. I don’t want to let him down.

Oh my, have I taken an interest in my professor? That would be improper behavior, right? Isn’t this totally illegal?

Well, my feelings aren’t and he does not feel the same way, so nothing will happen anyway. No need to think about the illegality of the situation when it’ll never get that far.

I grab my phone nonetheless and the piece of paper and add him to my contacts as Walter. I check his profile picture. It’s a slightly blurry photo of Walter sitting in a police car, but even through the blurry pixels, I can still recognize him. The same type of sweater. The messy curls, the beard and the deep frown between his thick brows.

Me: Professor Marshall, can I ask you something?

Me: This is Penny btw

Walter: What did I tell you, Penny?

Me: Oh, I’m sorry

Me: Walter

Walter: Atta girl

My eyes widen as I read his text, while my heart skips a few beats. ‘Oh,’ I whisper to myself. This is making me slightly giddy. What is happening here?

Walter: What’s your question?

Me: I’m still having troubles with the literature

Me: You know what? I’m sorry, I am totally asking to much of your time and I shouldn’t do that.

Me: Forget it, I’m sorry

Walter: No, no, no, Penny, it’s alright.

Walter: I gave you my number, remember?

Me: Right…

Walter: The literature is your only question?

Me: Yes

Me: It’s just a lot and I don’t know which piece of literature is applicable to my case

Walter: You had case four, right?

Me: Yes

Walter: I’ll send you a list of the literature you can use

Me: You sure it’s not too much?

Walter: I’m sure

✎ ✎ ✎

During my counseling skills class I am in the back of the lecture hall and heavily distracted. This professor is incredibly boring and really enjoys hearing himself talk. However, I’m occupied enough. Since there is no on behind or next to me, I open another tab on my laptop, to see I have yet another message from Walter.

Yes, I said Walter. I’m not in class, so it’s not professor Marshall.

Walter: Still in class?

Me: Yes, still am.

Me: What are you doing?

Walter: Consulting on a case for the NYP

Me: Do you miss working for the police force?

Walter: I do

Me: Why aren’t you working for the police now?

Walter: I’m suspended

Me: Do I want to know what you did?

Walter: I may or may not have yelled at some guy, thrown around some chairs during interrogation.

Walter: Thanks to me we solved the case though

Me: Remind me to always be on your good side 😅 😅

Walter: You are, Penny

Walter: Don’t you worry 😉

Me: Do you enjoy being a teacher?

Walter: No, not in the slightest

Walter: How are your assignments holding up?

Me: It’s going okay… It’s just a lot.

Walter: I bet

Me: It kinda feels like I’m drowning

Me: Already

Walter: You need help?

Me: I can’t ask that of you

Walter: You didn’t ask, I offered.

Me: Okay detective 🙄

Walter: Did you just roll your eyes at me?

Me: No, sir, I didn’t 🙈

Walter: I can help you out, I promise

Me: Where?

Walter: My loft?

Me: Your loft?

Walter: Yes, I can pick you up from somewhere

Me: You have crime scene pictures around your place?

Walter: I’ll have them gone by the time you get there

[the-modernmary]

to be enough || aaron hotchner x gn!reader

Summary: During a movie night with your boyfriend Aaron, you accidentally stumbled onto his old wedding video, and it makes you wonder if you could ever compete with his first love?

A/N: This was an anonymous request, thank you SO MUCH for sending this in!! It’s my first request and it was so much fun to write!! I love soft Hotch so, so much. I’m sorry this took so long to get out. I was sick on and off for like two weeks straight, it was a whole thing. I hope you like this!!

masterlist || read on ao3

“I’ll make popcorn and open the wine, you pick the movie. We’ll meet back on the couch in ten minutes,” Aaron said quickly as he pressed a kiss to your cheek before making his way to his kitchen.

  You giggled at your boyfriend’s eagerness as soon as he opened the door to his apartment. Truth be told, you couldn’t blame him, though. It was rare that the two of you ever really got the chance to just hang out at his apartment. Whenever Aaron was home, he liked to spend as much free time with his son as possible, which you completely understood. So between spending time with Jack and Aaron being away on cases, you lived for these small moments of alone time and domesticity. 

  “You might regret letting me pick the movie, my love,” you called to him jokingly as you sat down in front of his TV, looking for where the remote was hiding. “I am very loyal to my early 2000’s chick flicks.”

  The sound of Aaron’s laughter floating through his apartment made your heart swell. He had never been the tough, FBI unit chief around you, but he was also rarely so carefree and light. There was always a shield around him, especially with the way he would carefully choose his words so as to not give away too much of himself. He was always so guarded and unwavering.

  Aaron poked his head out of the kitchen, hair falling in his eyes. “In the interest of honesty, I’m fully planning on moving this to the bedroom before we even get halfway through the movie,” he admitted, his voice carrying even over the sound of popcorn in the microwave.

You giggled again and shook your head fondly, unable to stop the smile spread across your face at his words. Seeing him be so playful was like a gift — always a surprise, but never unwelcome. You lived for those small glimpses of the man you knew he was.

  Aaron went back to choosing the perfect movie night wine and you settled on the couch, turning on the TV and ready to pick out the goofiest, most feel-good movie you could find. Before you could pull Netflix up, however, the DVD that was already in the television began playing.

  The film was grainy and the camera work was shaky at best, so you weren’t sure exactly what you were watching at first. There was a church in the background and men dressed in nice suits. Kids dressed in their Sunday best ran around in the grass. The camera panned over to a couple who were clearly getting married, going by the big white dress the woman was wearing.

  The camera zoomed in on the couple and your heart dropped to your stomach, because there, right in the center of the screen was Aaron. It was a much younger version of him, of course, probably law school, but it was definitely him. 

  Oh god, this was his wedding video. Which meant that the beautiful, blushing bride wrapped in his arms and making him throw his head back in laughter was Haley.

  Aaron had told you about Haley and everything that had happened between the two of them right up to her murder pretty early on in your relationship with him, but then it was never really mentioned again. But you had heard the whispers on nights out with his team, listened to them all gossip amongst themselves about how “I never thought Hotch was ever going to move on?” .

  Despite every logical bone in your body screaming at you to change the film before Aaron came back into the living room, you couldn’t help but watch in morbid fascination. The Aaron on the screen was so different from the man you had come to love.

  You watched as the film Aaron spun Haley in circles and peppered her entire face in kisses. The entire time, they never once stopped touching each other, even if it was something as simple as holding each other’s hands. Aaron kept glancing over at Haley with the biggest heart eyes you had ever seen, and it was nothing like the way Aaron had ever looked at you. Even when the couple was supposed to be paying attention to the people giving speeches around them, Haley and Aaron kept sneaking glances at each other, mouthing “I love you” like it was the only thing they could think to say.

  Aaron looked so happy and so free and it was so unlike the man in the other room. In the year and a half you had been dating him, you had never seen Aaron with a smile so big. He never gave you PDA so freely, and it wasn’t something you realized you even wanted until you saw him do it with somebody else. Suddenly, you wanted to feel young and reckless and dizzy in love the way he looked back in the film.

  It was unfair to ask him to live every day with you feeling like it was his wedding day, and you knew it. Still, something stirred inside of you that made you crave for Aaron to look at you like that, even just once.

  What you had with Aaron now was safe and a certifiable “adult” relationship. Not to say it wasn’t nice, and there was plenty of passion and fun in it. All of your friends constantly expressed how envious they were that you had found somebody who was so stable yet still unpredictable and could sweep you off your feet with romantic dates under the stars. Being with Aaron felt like home for you, and you had always thought that he felt the same, although now you weren’t sure. It had never occurred to you that Aaron may not have ever really gotten over his first love.

  The microwave beeped, signaling that the popcorn was done and that Aaron would be back in the living room at any second, and you quickly switched the TV to Netflix, clicking whatever movie popped up first, not even bothering to look at the title. 

  Just in time, too, because not long after, Aaron made his way over to the couch, precariously carrying a bowl of popcorn, two wine glasses, and a bottle of a sweet red wine that had become a go-to for you both. He generally preferred red wine, but you hated the dryness of it and basically only drank sweet, dessert wines, so when the two of you found this one, it had seemed like fate. Most of your relationship with him felt like fate, honestly.

  You forced yourself not to think about the fact that Aaron was happily drinking white wine in the wedding video.

  “Either the definition of ‘chick flick’ has changed drastically,” Aaron started, plopping down next to you. “Or Mad Max is very different from what I remember.”

  “I decided to change it up, put on a movie neither of us will be invested in,” you lied, desperately fighting to keep your voice even. “That way we can move right into the bedroom portion of the night.”

  “I like the way you think, sweetheart,” he chuckled, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. His thigh was pressed against yours, but even then, he felt a million miles away from you.

  It was unfair to get so worked up over this whole wedding video thing, and you knew that. His time with Haley had ended long before he had even met you, and logically, you knew that people could fall in love multiple times. Still, that didn’t quell the anxiety that was bubbling in your stomach, making you queasy.

  Why was he even watching that video, anyway? Did he often sit right there on the very couch you were cuddling with him on and rewatch the happiest day of his life? After a date with you, did he ever come home conflicted about his own emotions and feeling guilty for moving on, and go down memory lane to remind himself who his real true love was? 

  You kept thinking about how giddy he had looked in that video, and how easy it had seemed for him to be with her. And Haley… God, how could you compete?

  She was stunning, no doubt about it, with her blonde hair and bright eyes that shined, even through shitty 90’s video camera quality. The pink on her soft-looking lips only seemed to make Aaron want to kiss them more and more, maybe to see if he could smudge her lipstick. It never once budged, though, because of course it didn’t. She seemed too perfect to have faded lipstick on her wedding day. She had floated across the makeshift dance floor, like a fucking Disney princess leaving a trail of fairy dust and sunshine everywhere she went. Everything about her seemed soft and kind and good, all things you had never once associated with yourself.

  It was no surprise that Aaron had decided he was going to marry her from the first time he saw her, as he had said in his vows. She was everything you could have ever wanted to be, and clearly, she was everything Aaron had ever wanted.

  Aaron’s voice snapped you out of your rapid descent into crippling insecurity. “I can hear you thinking from here, honey.”

  You took a long sip of your wine, avoiding his piercing gaze. “I’m just concentrating on the movie,” you lied.

  “The movie you picked specifically so that we didn’t have to pay attention?” he retorted, eyebrows raised. Really, you should have known better than to try and give him such a blatant lie. Aaron reached over you to grab the remote and paused the movie, placing his hand lightly on your knee. “What’s going on?”

  How could you even explain what you were feeling? It definitely wasn’t jealousy, although you almost wished it was. At least with jealousy, you could push it to the side as an awful, gross feeling that comes from years of internalized misogyny and being told that other women are inherently competition for the attention of men. You could deal with that feeling.

  But it wasn’t that at all. Despite Aaron’s obvious devotion to her, you found it hard (and a little twisted, if you were being completely honest) to be jealous of a woman who was violently murdered in her own home in front of her young child. Besides, jealousy would imply that you and Haley were on somewhat equal ground, which you so clearly weren’t. 

  Haley was his high school sweetheart, the love of his life, the woman he had chosen to have children with, and you…

  Well, at one point you thought you could have been that, too, but now you were faced with the fear that you were nothing more than a person to fill the hole in his heart that Haley had left. Even worse, however, was the sinking feeling that you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be enough to fill it completely. 

  “It’s stupid,” you stuttered out, avoiding Aaron’s eyes, which were so full of concern. That was the worst part. It would be one thing if Aaron didn’t love you, but he did love you. Just not in the way he loved her. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.”

  “I—” You cut yourself off with a sigh and shifted on the couch so that you were facing him. “Am I enough for you?”

  Aaron looked about as taken aback by your question as you felt. You hadn’t meant to burst through the gate with that particular insecurity.

  “Are you enough for me?” he repeated slowly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, like the question didn’t make any sense. In all honesty, it probably didn’t. “If you mean ‘am I happy with you’, then yes. Incredibly. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

  That should have made you feel better, but it wasn’t the answer you were looking for. You absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on your sweater. “I saw your wedding video,” you admitted shamefully. It felt like you were a little kid getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “And, I don’t know… You looked so happy and so… alive with her. That’s a once-in-a-lifetime love, Aaron. I’m never going to be able to be that for you.”

  Aaron’s frown deepened, and for a moment you were worried that he was going to get angry at you for watching the video. Maybe you had tainted that one happy memory for him. But the lines on his face softened just a bit and he covered your hand with both of his.

  “Have you always felt like this?” he asked cautiously, attempting to keep all emotion off his face. “Like you’re not… enough?”

  You shrugged. “Sometimes. If I think about it too much. Especially when we first started dating. But never this intense. I guess since I had only heard stories of her, it was almost like she didn’t exist? But now that I’ve seen her and how you looked at her… I love you so much and I want you to be happy, but I’m scared I can’t be that for you. I’m sorry if I’ve crossed a line, but this has been eating me up from the inside for a while now and I—”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Aaron cut you off mid-ramble, and you took a shuddering breath. Guilt was written all over him, which made you want to crawl into a hole and never be heard from again. “Have I done anything to make you think I’m unhappy?”

  “No, of course not! You’ve been nothing but wonderful. But I’m not Haley. I can’t make you as happy as she made you. And maybe this is selfish of me, but it hurts to know that you don’t love me the way you loved her.”

  Aaron’s frown deepened, but he still held on tightly to your hand. “I didn’t think you would want me to,” he said, and now it was your turn to be confused.

  You could practically see the gears turning in Aaron’s mind as he tried to find the right words to verbalize the floodgate of emotions that had just opened. Being vulnerable and open about his feelings wasn’t something he was very comfortable with, and it definitely didn't come easy for him. The fact that he was trying and willing gave you some comfort.

  “What I mean to say is…” he backtracked. “You’re right. You’re not Haley and the way I loved her is different from the way I love you. I love you differently because you’re different. And I’m different now, too. But different doesn’t mean less, and it never has. I would never want you to think that you’re just some consolation prize.”

  He was looking at you with such intensity and sincerity that you could have cried. “It’s just that when I realized you had been rewatching your wedding, I kept thinking that maybe she was your one love,” you explained nervously. “I don’t know what that leaves me.”

  Aaron took your hand that he was holding and moved it so that it rested on his chest and you could feel his heartbeat. “My love isn’t finite. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

  You melted into his touch, and it was like the sun came peeking through the storm clouds. He didn’t have the exact same expression that 25-year-old him did on the wedding video, but it was something close. Maybe even something more. It was warm and inviting and felt like coming home after a long day. 

  “You’ve been nothing but the picture-perfect boyfriend,” you assured. “This is all me and my own insecurities. I saw that you had been watching the video and I just… spiraled, I guess.”

  Aaron mindlessly rubbed his thumb back and forth on your hand. “I should probably explain why I was watching it, then.”

  “God, no, you don’t owe me any explanations for what you—”

  “I was showing Jack,” Aaron interrupted, his voice soft. “He doesn’t remember her that much, and he definitely doesn’t remember when we were married. Most of his memories are of fighting or divorced parents. I wanted to show him that his parents loved each other.”

  Your face went hot as embarrassment spread through you. “Wow, that makes perfect sense and I feel like an idiot,” you breathed. “I’m sorry.”

  Aaron pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he stood up from the couch. “You’re not an idiot, and you have nothing to be sorry for,” he promised. “Come on, let’s get changed into something a little nicer.”

  You looked down in confusion as your movie night outfit. “Why?”

  A mischievous glint flashed in Aaron’s eyes as he bent down and gave you another kiss, one much less chaste than the one before. “Because,” he mumbled against your lips. “I’m going to take you on a date and show you just how much I love you.”

[mirrorsblogs]

𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫, 𝐒. 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 (𝐏𝐭. 𝟐)

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨? (𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨)

Pt. 1

Tomorrow had come sooner than you liked. Yesterday was spent in Daichi’s arms as you talked of the little things in life. It was pure ecstasy. You felt spoiled for getting to just have a day like that. But those feelings went away as your father announced your marriage to a foreign king, to whom you had never met. Who had a reputation for mistreating his past wives. You would have been his fifth wife if you married him.

“I don’t want to marry him father”

“It is your duty as princess to this kingdom”

“He has executed and divorced his past wives I do not want to die father”

“You will not die so long as you listen and abide by him”

You stared at your father incredulously. He expected you to sit by and let what was left of your life be dedicated to a man who would most likely kill you if you didn’t comply. With a heavy heart you exited your father’s office and quickly made it to your room. Daichi was already there waiting. 

“We have to go, Daichi”

“What’s wrong?”

“If we do not get married then I will be marrying a man twenty years my senior and who was a reputation for killing his past wives”

“Then we must make haste, your majesty”

“Daichi, what have I told you”

“Sorry force of habit I suppose”

Both you and him quickly donned your cloaks and made your way to the stables. The stable boy was easy to pay off and you took an old path through the forest to get to a church. It was known for being a safe haven for women and usually helped many with whatever they needed including in this case, shotgun weddings. 

Daichi had taken the reins and was guiding the horse through the forest. Your back was pressed up against his and you could feel his heartbeat. It was quick. You lifted your head to see Daichi focused on the journey. He only got that look when he was determined to do something, like eating a whole pie or right now marrying you.

Arriving at the church, Daichi helped you off the horse and you took the horse to the stables outside. Daichi went inside to find a priestess willing to perform the marriage. When you went inside there was a woman in traditional clothing and Daichi talking by the altar. You took slow steps towards them, taking in the sereness of the church. The sunlight shone through a stained glass window at the top of a wall and onto your figure. 

This drew Daichi’s attention who became enraptured with you. It was like seeing again, but this time in a new light. No pun intended. The priestess smiled at you and once you made it to the altar she guided you to where to kneel. 

“Thank you for doing this”

“It is no issue, I’ve done the same for countless other women” 

Daichi kneeled next to you and the priestess began performing the rights of marriage. It was a quick ceremony with the rings being presented by Daichi. The rings were simply golden bands but on the inside had the other’s name engraved inside. It was an eternal promise for love.

“Do you, Sir, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do”

“And do you, Princess, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do”

“Then in the power vested in me I present husband and wife.”

Both you and him rose and captured each other. It was a sweet and short kiss. After his forehead rested on yours, and all he did was smile.

“My Knight”

“My Princess”

That day a letter was found in the princess’ room, it was a goodbye letter. She had run off with a Knight of Kings’ Guard and pledged never to return. The king nearly died of shock and sent riders out to find them but with no luck. They managed to escape him. In their life both Daichi and you lived long lives. Though you never had children you raised many children in the village who lacked a home.

To many in the area, both yours and Daichi’s house became known as a safe-haven to many. You taught many how to read and write which helped them later on in life go to school and become great scholars. You were never found by your father and when he died the kingdom dissolved into a parliamentary system. 

The smooth transition of power settled many worries in both yours and Daichi’s mind. It seemed many years had passed now and many of the children you taught were now in their late teens.

Someone was knocking on your door late this afternoon. You opened it to find one of the children you were tutoring, Tsukishima Kei. His family had perished long ago and he then was put into your and Daichi’s care. 

“Hello my child,” you whispered to him. He was too tall, now you couldn’t even kiss the top of his head. “You’re too tall now.”

“Thank you for the kind words. I’m only here because I wanted to say goodbye before I left”

“Daichi, get in here! Where are you going?”

“The castle, I was picked to be a archivist in the library”

“That’s amazing!”

Daichi and you knew this day was coming. When all your little birds would grow up and leave the nest. But you never expected it to be this soon. Has it already been a decade?

Retirement and the pastoral life looked good on you and Daichi. The countryside had treated you all well. It was nice.

[istanleyff7]

TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scenes 5-9

Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2: Aerith Scenes 5 - 9

A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter)

Scene 5

"My mother immediately took out a syringe after sitting on the bench and injected herself. I was startled."

"That must have been rough..."

There was compassion in Tifa's eyes and voice.

According to her definition of a mother, Ifalna would be a "really good-natured person". However, she was different back then.

"Even though I knew she wasn't well, I only worried about myself."

"You were a child..."

"I know..."

Aerith fell silent. It cannot be helped since she was just a child. Thus, there were a number of regrets that she did not want to simply put away.

"Ah! My bad, my bad! Shall I continue?"

"Sure. Please."

"The medicine worked, and we walked on for hours in the Sector 4 Slums, taking a break at times. Then we saw an information board that said ‘Sector 5 Slums’."

Scene 6

"Mummy, it says this is the Sector 5 slums. The house is in Sector 3, isn't it?"

"Nope. This is fine."

"But the new house is in Sector 3, right?" 

"Aerith, let's hurry up a little. It's going to be nighttime."

"Where are we going? Where are we hurrying to?"

Without answering, Ifalna tightly grasped Aerith's hand and hastened her steps.

Many questions surfaced. Eventually, Ifalna started speaking silently.

"I've heard that there's a church in the Sector 5 Slums. In the past, people gathered here and prayed to God, but nobody comes here anymore. I've been thinking that we should hide here a little..."

"I've heard about God! Does he really exist?" Aerith was surprised.

"According to his believers, he does. I heard that when they pray, they get empowered."

"Pray...?"

"It's something like us Cetra speaking to the planet, although I don’t really understand it. But, since no one is coming to the church anymore, there probably aren't any believers. It's too bad for God, but it seems like it's great for our situation."

"We'll wait for Fuzz at the church?"

Ifalna stayed quiet for a while, then shook her head.

"We can't cause any more trouble than this."

"What about the new home?"

"We will not live there."

"Fuzz would be disappointed, wouldn't he?

"He probably will be."

"Are you okay with it, Mama?"

"As long as you're around, I'm okay."

Aerith thought that those were surprisingly comforting words. But that didn't mean that she didn't feel bad for Fuzz, nor had she gotten over the guilt of betraying him. However, after the thought that she didn't have to live seeing injections, medicine and backhand kisses, she felt a sense of relief.

"Let's go to the station first. I only know the way from there."

"Should we ask someone?"

"Nope. We don’t want anyone to know our whereabouts."

↞↠

There are times when there's not enough sunlight in the slums, as the plate was blocking them out. A giant lamp called the sun lamp makes up for that shortage. However, the light that was seen in the morning and afternoon was just like the actual sunlight. While she was amazed at her mother’s explanation, she also felt anxious. The evening was drawing near. She felt that something terrifying would happen if they didn't make it to church by sundown. A terrifying thing that she, too, couldn't imagine. 

"Aerith, that looks like the station."

Aerith looked over. A train was about to depart. Unlike the Sector 4 Slums Station, Sector 5's Slums Station seemed like a small station with only a platform. There were probably a few commuters departing from the trains, and there weren't many passers-by too. 

"Alright then, which way should we..."

Should we go? Those were the words she probably was going to say.

Without finishing her sentence, Ifalna sluggishly collapsed to the ground.

"Mummy?!"

Aerith's voice gathered the looks of her surroundings. However, nobody moved over to help.

Ifalna's breathing was heavy, and after touching her, Aerith realised she had a fever. A high fever.

"Mummy, where's your medicine?"

"I've... used them all..."

It was a desperate situation. What should Aerith do?

“Are you alright? Mummy?”

Ifalna said something from her painful breath. Aerith couldn’t hear it, so she brought her ears close to her lips. She only felt a hot sigh in her ears. What should she do? What should she do? Aerith's head became loaded with "What should I do". Her mother uttered something again, and Aerith heard that she's alright. But she was definitely not alright. However, what should she do? She wondered if anyone could help them, like how someone did at the Sector 4 Slums Station. Aerith lifted her head and looked for someone who seemed like they could help, but no one was paying attention to them. Would you please help us? Would you please look over here? These words come and go in Aerith's head. My mummy is sick. She has a fever. Please help us. Please, help us, please! However, she couldn't speak out.

"I'm sorry..." Ifalna muttered out. "We were... in the middle of an adventure..."

Please do not say such words.

"No!"

Her emotions overflowed in her voice.

“Are you sick?”

Looking back, there stood a man in faded and dirty clothes.

"Let's move her over there. She's blocking the way here."

Without waiting for a reply, he sprang into action. 

He inserted his hands under both sides of Ifalna, lying face up, and started to back away.

Ifalna was being pulled along and had her shoe fall off her foot. Aerith picked the shoe up and gave them chase. 

"Be more gentle!"

The man didn't change his expression and continued to pull her along. He sat her leaning against the station platform.

"Call a doctor."

"Where can we find one?"

"I don’t know, if it were me, I would shout out loud to find one."

The man turned back, and he really shouted out.

"Is there a doctor!"

However, there was no response.

"Well, all the best."

And just like that, the man went off without looking back.

"Oh, my goodness."

A well-dressed man and woman came over and looked at Ifalna scrutinisingly. 

"Are you doctors?"

"No, we're not."

"That person, is she your Mama?"

"Shouldn't we quickly call out for a doctor?"

"Don't you have any medicine?"

While listening to both of them, her mother's words came to mind. The truly good people are those that act on it and give help. The people here weren’t them.

"Mummy wait here. I'm calling a doctor over."

Aerith ran while looking as though she was being crushed by anxiety.

"Is there a doctor?"

She exclaimed in the direction of a lot of people.

"Is there a doctor?"

Looking back, she was a long way away from the station. She then heard the voices of men and women. It was a cheerful-like group who walked over. She decided to ask them, and if that didn't work, she would head back to the station. Aerith ran.

She was about to ask them was there a doctor. Then she saw a youth turning around and coming close to her.

"Hey, I've told you so!" the man continued walking back towards her. "And yet..."

Aerith hurriedly tried to avoid him but did not make it in time, the man's butt struck her face, and she fell over. The men and women gathered their gaze on Aerith.

"Go home and sleep, kid!" exclaimed the man who bumped into Aerith, and his friends burst out laughing.

She absentmindedly got up while hearing the laughter of the leaving group. She felt frustrated, sad, angry and miserable.

"Are you alright?"

Aerith looked back, and there was a woman who seemed to look over worriedly. The simple, tied up hair behind her head swayed. 

"I'm okay. Do you know a doctor?"

She noticed that she herself was crying and wiped away her own tears. 

"I live in the outskirts, so I don't know any doctors around here."

Aerith gave her thanks and started to walk away. Whenever she was asked whether she was alright, she only could reply that she was alright. She wondered how many times she asked her mother that.

"Mummy. I'm sorry..."

Aerith ran towards the station.

Upon returning, she saw that her mother's body was covered with a blanket. A "good person" must have appeared and covered her with it. However, seeing her mother's painful state, she felt as though her chest became crushed. Her fever was so hot, she couldn’t even keep touching her. 

"Mummy."

Even after she called out, Ifalna was still looking at the vast sky.

"Aerith. Are you here?"

"I'm here."

Ifalna's eyes searched for Aerith, and she grabbed her.

"This..." Ifalna pulled out a small pouch from her clothes and held it out.

"I got this from my dad, who got it from his mum, who also got it from her mum. It's not good for anything at all, but it has always been around, connecting us Cetra."

Aerith's chest became flaring hot.

"No. I don't want it."

If she takes it, it'll all be over. She had a strong hunch.

"Well... My life is ending soon. I'm returning to the Planet."

Ifalna's hand that was holding out the bag was trembling, and then it finally fell.

"Don't be sad. Even from here on out, I'll be by your side"

"Mummy."

"Are you alright?"

The voice came from above. She looked up towards the voice, and it was a woman, the same woman who called out to Aerith when she fell.

All of a sudden, Ifalna moved. She raised her upper body and grabbed the woman's arm.

"Take... Aerith... somewhere safe."

She said it with such a powerful voice that made Aerith wonder where she left that strength.

However, in the next moment, Ifalna's body became empty. Her spirit left her body, leaving her flesh and bones without its' host.

"Ah..." Aerith muttered without thinking.

Aerith repeated her mother's words in her head. Don't be sad. I'm returning to the Planet. I'll be by your side. Connecting us. She knew. Even though she knew, her chest still stung. Her tears were flowing down, and she let out her cry. Her body hurt and was also trembling. Someone was stroking her back.

Suddenly, the surroundings became busy. Aerith lifted her head and saw a train slipping into the platform with a roaring sound. 

"Let's leave here."

The woman said as she firmly pulled Aerith's hand, forcing her up her feet. Aerith quickly picked up the pouch.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

The woman pulled Aerith's arm as she hurriedly tried to leave the station. She remembered being pulled by Ifalna and crossing the railway tracks. She wondered where this hand would take her. 

Mummy, goodbye. 

From here on out, they'll probably still be together. That was probably right. However, Aerith would not be able to feel that body anymore. She was not allowed to feel that body anymore because the form of her mother's life was different. 

"Mummy!"

She turned back and yelled out to her mother, but the pull of her hand became stronger. She saw that the train stopped. When the door opened, Shinra troopers and men in white coats vigorously alighted. 

"Let's run."

When the woman saw that Aerith wasn't moving, she picked her up roughly and started running.

↞↠

When they eventually approached the centre of the slums, the woman finally lowered Aerith. 

"Are you able to walk?"

Aerith nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry I couldn't properly let you say goodbye."

 Aerith shook her head. 

"I'm truly sorry that I had to leave your mother there and head off."

The woman had a sincerely apologetic look on her face. Aerith nodded again.

"You poor thing."

"My mother only just returned to the Planet, so I'm not sad."

"Ahh... It seems that there are people who do think of it that way. Even so, it's sad to be separated, isn't it?"

"Nope. It is because I can still meet her."

"I see. Well then, firstly, let's go to my house, shall we? When you're there, you can cry all you want."

Scene 7

"But I didn't cry at all."

After Aerith said that, Tifa gave her a dubious-like look.

"My house, you've been there before, right? The one in the Sector 5 Slums."

"Yup. I've been there."

"There were lots of flowers, weren't there?"

"Yup!"

"When I went there for the first time, I was also welcomed by the flowers. Really, I felt that. I felt the Planet, and I felt my mother. That's why I didn’t have to cry. What I left behind wasn't my mother. My mother was here."

Tifa tilted her neck and was puzzled.

"I've been saying weird things, haven't I?"

Aerith laughed.

"I think it's strange, but it isn't weird."

"Thank you. I thought that you'd say that. That's why I'm able to talk."

Tifa felt something at the back of her nose.

"Hey! Hey!" Aerith wanted to change the mood. "My house was huge, wasn't it? For a house in the slums."

"Yeah! More than just being splendid, I thought that it was a proper house. It doesn't look like a house in the Slums nor a house in Midgar."

"That's right. The house belonged to Elmyra's father-in-law. People said that her father-in-law was an influential man. How do I describe him... A Corneo who isn’t bad.”

"A Corneo who isn’t bad?" Tifa repeated herself.

"Ahhh, it's impossible. The impression is too bad."

"Yeah. Only Corneo's face comes to mind."

"I've failed. Think of a more gentlemanly face. Anyone besides Corneo would be fine."

"I'll try."

It seemed that Tifa was really trying. However, she slipped out a laugh.

"Hmmm?"

"I don't know many guys who are gentlemanly."

Scene 8

Aerith, who knows little about the landscape of the slums, also quickly realised that it was a unique and special place unlike any other. It was a land with lots of nature. Plants grew on the levelled three-dimensional terrain, and even flowers were blooming. It was a stunning scenery for Aerith, who only knew flowers in vases or potted plants.

They travelled through the garden and started walking down the wooden plank, which was laid out to make a path. Aerith then felt someone stroking her hands and legs. She didn’t feel uneasy and fearful. There was a gentle and calm feeling on her heart, or perhaps her head.

"Who are you?"

The wind was blowing and brushed Aerith's cheek. Her heart was filled with joy.

"Did you say something?" Elmyra Gainsborough, who had already introduced herself on the road, turned her head around.

"Nope."

"I see..." Elmyra started walking again.

"There’s lots of grass, aren't there? It's an old plot of land, and it was left like that. There are lots of flowers blooming too. It's still blooming now, but these kinds are just beginning to bloom."

Aerith thought of a garden with lots of flowers and was delighted. 

"I've been cutting and pulling them, but they are stubborn. It's hard because insects come too."

"I think it's good as it is."

"Well, but I'm giving up."

Elmyra's house was an old solid wooden building. They entered by opening an elaborately constructed double door with glass mounted on its' upper half.

Her day was filled with first time experiences since she left the Shinra Building. Above all, this experience of entering another person's house for the first time was like a lump of "first time"s striking down on her. The interior had an appearance in which plenty of natural wood was used. There were tables and chairs in the centre of the room. Unlike the rooms in the Shinra Building, the walls here had many windows. Furniture, tableware, pots, food, cleaning tools— it was like she could hear the breathing of the people living here. Aerith was distressed from the information overload and took a deep breath through her mouth.

"You're a strange child, aren't you?" 

Elmyra laughed. 

"I know it's sudden, but I thought about it along the way. I know I could bring you here, but what am I supposed to do after that? There was an orphanage on the way here, wasn't there? A lot of kids without parents live there. I thought about bringing you there, but there's a rumour that it's under the influence of Shinra Company. I thought about it after seeing what happened at the station. You probably hate the Shinra, don't you?"

Aerith nodded strongly many times.

"Well, we have to carefully think about what's going to happen from here on out," Elmyra let out a huge sigh. "But I'm not at a space to think about such complex matters now. Are you alright to go about this later and stay here for a while?"

Aerith nodded again and again.

"Well then, shall we go to the second floor?"

Elmyra, who seemed to be an impatient person, promptly climbed up the stairs to the second floor. Aerith hurriedly kept up and saw Elmyra waiting for her along the second-floor corridor. 

"In the meanwhile, I'll let you stay upstairs."

"Okay."

"This is a house with a fair number of guests. If there suddenly were a child, they would find it suspicious, wouldn't they? More than anything, I can't guarantee that they wouldn't tell Shinra about you. For the time being, except when I say it's okay, I'll have you stay upstairs."

"For the time being... How long will that be?"

Elmyra frowned and folded her arms. The smile disappeared from her eyes.

"Honestly, tell me. Is Shinra chasing your mother? Or are they chasing you too?"

She knew the meaning of her question. However, how should she reply? She was also probably being chased too. She was undoubtedly being chased because she is a descendant of the Cetra. 

"Ummm. Yes."

"It's alright if you say yes. However, if it comes to that, you'll be staying on the second floor until Shinra gives up finding you, okay?"

Aerith knew that Shinra would probably never give up searching for her. She'll probably live on the second floor her whole life.

"Don't look like that... It's human nature. You won't be here for an eternity."

"Um. Okay."

The doorbell rang downstairs. Elmyra frowned. Aerith felt nervous that it might be someone pursuing from Shinra.

"Wait here for a moment, quietly."

After quickly fixing up her hair and clothes, Elmyra went downstairs.

Aerith crouched down and hid her breath at that spot. After she thought she heard a sign of the door opening...

"Where did you go!"

The voice of a furious man burst through. Aerith lost her balance and quickly placed down her hand for support.

"That's none of your business!"

"You were the one who told me to come over in the evening, weren’t you? Oh? Do you treat people like this all the time?" 

"I said I'll probably be here in the evening. I didn't make any promises. You can't come here every day at any time for no reason."

'It will end after a signature and a blood seal. How many times must I say it?"

"It will be the same no matter how many times you say it. Understand? This is about the way society works, and the rules. Without Meguro's consent, I also won’t do anything. And even with my blood seal, he would think that I gave in to a threat. If you want to keep your job forever, you have to stay true to your own words, okay?"

"Shit!"

"Your teeth will fall off from such foul words. Well then, go home!"

"Shit! Shit!"

"If you want to stand on top of others, you'll repent for it. Well, back off!"

It was the sound of the door slammed shut. The man was mumbling in an angry voice. However, she did not understand its content.

Elmyra returned to the second floor and seemed exhausted.

"Ahhhhh..." She let out a deep sigh.

"That was Carlo Kinky. That man, he's a special one. Other guests are normally just decent and quiet."

↞↠

Aerith was assigned to the room of Gabriel Gainsborough, who built the house, and that was his room where he had recuperative medical treatment until two months prior. It was tidied up and smelled clean. She didn't feel any hints of death.

"I don't really think it has a good atmosphere, but I don't have any other rooms. Nope, I have one, but I'll have to clean it up."

Elmyra felt apologetic. However, Aerith didn't care about it. In fact, she even felt a welcoming-like feeling from the room.

That night, Ifalna appeared by her bedside.

"I'll be supporting Elmyra being fond of you, okay?"

Ifalna laughed, but that smile had some kind of tiredness in it. It was the same smile as when she was walking in the slums.

"How did you come here?"

"It’s not that I came here, but we're always together because we are connected."

Aerith felt her mother's hand on her forehead. And before long, she slept with peace in her mind.

Ifalna appeared the next night too.

"How was today? I wonder if you got along with Elmyra."

"Hmmm... I don't know. Elmyra made breakfast, brought it to me, and we ate together. At that time, she made bread for me for lunch. She went out after that and then came back around dinner time. But, she seemed tired. That's why we didn't talk much. I can't get along with her. What should I do?"

"It's alright. Elmyra is having it rough now. But, I think you can help her. "

"What should I do?"

"When she wants to cry, stay with her and cuddle close together. It's the same as when I was here."

"... Mom, was there a time when you wanted to cry?"

"I probably did a few times..."

Scene 9

"I'll explain this," Aerith changed her tone to an excuse-like manner.

Tifa seemed to be in an absorbed-like state.

"When I was a kid, I thought that it was a dream, and I thought I was just talking in a dream, but that's not it."

"Um.... What do you mean by that?"

"It's one of the powers of the Cetra. We can be one with the floating life of the Planet. Through this life, and though it seems there are various conditions, we're able to communicate with people whom we're separated from."

"That's amazing, isn't it?"

“Right? It gets more different than you think. But I can't do it anymore. I can feel something when I go to a deep place, but usually not at all."

"I see."

"Like happiness and sadness. But, I have been through a lot due to this power when I was a kid. Well, I must be a strange kid, aren’t I?"

↞↠

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[slasherbastard]

Jealous

(gif credit: pearris2swine)

Warnings: implied sexual stuff, angst, swearing Word count: 2047 Notes: i am so uninspired sorry

Another day in Ambrose. You adjusted your dress and stared at your reflection in the mirror and sighed in slight annoyance as the ends of the black dress rode up your legs, you hated dresses and even though it was all for show you still couldn't help but feel gross. You hated the eyes that raked your body and the compliments from the male victims that made you want to vomit but hey, that's just business - and it wasn't just a one person job, Bo took care of the girls and you took care of the guys (and a few girls, which you like to hold against Bo). Of course Bo had to find you the skimpiest looking dress for his mother's funeral, it was amusing to you but sad at the same time. You took a bobby pin off the sink and swiped some hair back and pinned it in place before going back to touching up your makeup when the bathroom door opened and Bo came in.

"Babe? We're going to be late-" You stared at Bo in the mirror and turned to him, he looked stunned. "Oh your body does wonders for that dress." He smirked and walked up to you and place a hand on your side as he pulled you in for a kiss. Before the session could get heated you swiftly pulled away and placed a finger on his lips and smiled. 

"We're going to be late." You mimicked his southern accent and laughed as you walked past him, the sound of clicks against tiles followed you with those uncomfortable heels Bo forced you to wear. You made a bet that he was checking out your ass as you walked out and when you glanced back at him, sure enough he was. He followed you out and downstairs. 

You both exited the house and got into Bo's truck. Usually the two of you would just walk but you were already late enough and Bo being Bo blamed Lester for the such short notice - even though it was Bo who decided to check his voicemail half an hour before the victims would be arriving. Bo sped down the hill and parked a few buildings away from the church, jumping out of the truck without bothering to lock it before grabbing your hand and practically dragging you through the church doors. The church looked the same as ever, it wasn't like anybody besides the two of you occupied it a few days every month when newer victims entered the town. Bo turned on the stereo and got into place, kneeling down beside his mother's wax covered corpse as you stood beside him with a hand on his shoulder and looked down into Trudy's hazy lifeless eyes, a shiver ran down your spine but you ignored it and continued staring at her just waiting for the church doors to open. 

And they did. You and Bo turned around in unison and stared at the shocked face of a girl who quickly shut the door. "Well, that's our cue." Bo stood up and you followed him out to 'greet' the victims, the girl who ambushed the funeral and a guy who looked looked really pissed off. The girl began apologising profusely as you and Bo walked past. 

"Look, we need the mechanic guy that redneck told us about." 

"That mechanic guy? Well, I'm that mechanic guy but we're in the middle of a funeral-" 

"Look, if I pay you extra will-" The man didn't have time to finish before Bo had slammed him against one of the church walls, a tight grip on his shirt as he got close. 

"Look buddy, I'm really not having a good day so you're going to wait until this funeral is finished then I'll think about fixing your car. Got it?" The man nodded and held his hands up. Bo let go and walked back up into the church alone while you checked to see if the man was okay. 

"I'm sorry about him, he just lost his mother and hasn't been himself lately." 

The church doors opened again and Bo stepped out with a more sincere look on his face. "I'm sorry. How about we get that car looked at?" You passed a look onto the man that could be read as 'I told you so' and the four of you began walking down to the station. "So where were you guys headed?"

"Florida, we got family there." The girl spoke in an upbeat voice with a heavy accent, definitely not American but neither you nor Bo could place it. "Our mother's birthday is coming up and we got her the best present." She was really excited, it almost upset you because you knew that she wasn't leaving this place alive. "Oh we never gave you our names! I'm Dakota and that's Matt." 

The four of you approached the garage and Bo unlocked the door and the two soon to be wax figures stepped inside and started looking for whatever parts they needed while you and Bo watched them, you were leant up against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest with your eyes on Matt who was stealing his own glances from you with a subtle smile that Bo caught on to as well as you.

While Bo was paying attention to Matt's movements and looks, Dakota was practically staring Bo down like he was the last meal on Earth. When Bo had finally caught on he just winked at her and tried to approach her but she shook her head and pointed to her brother who wasn't even paying attention to what was happening right next to him. She mouthed to Bo something along the lines of "Let's get out of here." 

Dakota then walked past and Bo furrowed his eyebrows as he watched her approach the bathroom door and push it only for not to move. "Yeah it's out of order, a'ven't gotten around to fixing it yet but the one up at my place works just fine if you're desperate." Dakota didn't hesitate and nodded. "Alright, won't be too long you two." As Dakota and Bo exited the garage he gave you a small nod and dropped a key into your hand, you looked over at Matt who wasn't really paying attention as he grabbed something off the shelf and drop it, idiot. 

You rolled your eyes but walked over. "Let me get it." You knelt down and began picking up the part he dropped. "Be glad this isn't valuable. Bo would've killed you." Matt looked down at you and smiled, awkwardly running a hand through his hair. 

"Bo's your boyfriend or something?"

You laughed, a little over exaggeratedly but it could've just come off as you being embarrassed. "No, no, he's my brother in law." You picked yourself off the floor and put the part back onto the shelf and dusted your hands off. "Well, ex-brother in law I guess. That funeral was for my sister, his wife." 

"Oh, sorry. I was just wondering because you're really hot." 

You really wanted to punch this guy but this was the crap you had to put up with whenever you met the victims, although, you didn't expect to mark "tell-me-about-your-trauma-then-i'll-sleep-with-you" off of your 'Stupid Shit Victims Say Bingo'. So instead you got closer and didn't fix your dress as the fabric began to bunch again, it was so uncomfortable but you knew this all meant nothing so you were good. 

"You think I'm hot?" The sentence fell off your tongue with a purr, a part of you realised that those acting lessons and improv classes you took before coming to Ambrose actually meant something. "You know, Bo's gonna be a while. It is quite a walk up that hill." You reached for the buttons on Matt's shirt and he looked over at something before watching you. 

"Does that bathroom have a key?" Heat rose in your face as it definitely turned a bright ass red, you could be seductive but you couldn't control exactly how you responded. You broke away from the man and pretended to look for a key as you quietly set the key down on the bench beside you - Matt didn't see you do this, he was busy "messing" around with the buttons on his shirt. 

You picked up the key and glanced at Matt before spinning around and holding it up. "Found it-" He was already on you, he'd picked you up and sat you on the bench and a furious make out session began. The key fell out of your hand and disappeared somewhere on the floor but neither of you cared as Matt's lips left yours only to reconnect with the skin on your neck. You didn't want to admit it but he was really good, so much more passionate than Bo but also a lot softer but who cares about Bo right now?

You're only doing this because of Dakota.

Matt began getting adventurous, a hand went up your dress while the other one slipped the sleeves down your arms. You felt devious but you were also worried about how Bo would react since you've never gotten this far with a victim before - and as if time wasn't on your side, you heard the door to the garage open while Matt was too distracted by you to notice Bo was now standing a few feet away from the two of you. 

"What the fuck is going on here?" Matt jumped back and you pushed yourself off the bench, readjusting your dress while Bo stared at Matt even more furious than you've seen him before - and that's saying A LOT. 

"L-Look man-"

"Don't you fucking L-Look man me!" Bo grabbed Matt by the fabric of his shirt and slammed him into the wall, Matt tried to fight back but Bo just slammed him into the wall again. "Open the fucking basement door, now!" He yelled at you, oh, he was pissed. 

You didn't waste a second before opening that door and neither did Bo as he pulled Matt down. You followed behind him and tried to help with keeping Matt down but Bo just pushed you aside as he tied Matt up within seconds. Matt screamed, screamed for Dakota, screamed for anyone who could hear him in this ghost town. "Scream all you want, nobody's gonna hear 'ya." He leaned in close to Matt and smiled before he turned to face you. He didn't say anything, he grabbed you and dragged you out of the cellar and closed the door. 

You tried to talk to Bo but he didn't listen. You didn't know where he was taking you and a part of you didn't want to know, you began to struggle as his grip got tighter and you tried to pull yourself away from him and at one point you were successful. Bo looked furious as you pulled away from him and stared up at him with glassy eyes. "What the fuck was that? I leave you alone with a guy and next thing I see is y'all fucking!" 

"We didn't have sex! We were just kissing and it went a little too far."

"A little? That's what you call a little?"

"Well you and Dakota were eyefucking right in front of me!" Bo just stared at you before turning away. 

"You're jealous." He laughed before raising his voice. "You think that the shit they say to you don't make me jealous either?" 

"This was all your idea! You're the one who said that seducing victims would work!" You sighed, taking your time to contain yourself before speaking again. "So where's Dakota now?" 

"Vincent's handling her now." Bo paused and stared at you for a second and you swore you saw the light bulb that replaced his brain - if we're being completely honest here since he's got 0 thoughts - light up as he suddenly got close to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. "You know what has to happen now, right?" Bo played his unfair game with you and you lost, either you were about to get punished or you were going to have to watch Bo torture this guy you had no feelings for.

[mythicamagic]

Fire and Brimstone: a Sesskag oneshot

For @harlecorn! ♥ Happy Birthday! 🎂

Rated T

A Hellhound remains bound beneath a church, waiting for the chance to enact revenge on his captors. His golden opportunity comes in the form of a blue-eyed woman. Sesskag AU oneshot.

You can read this on Ao3, Fanfiction.net and Dokuga

AN: This takes place in old-timey England. Think Witch Trial era - between the 15th and 18th century. However, I'm largely skipping the old language used in those times bc it would make dialogue feel awkward. If Kagome sounds weird it's bc I've had to lay off the modern talk a bit.

Warning: references to/implies torture

Fire and Brimstone

It was raining outside. Sesshoumaru could tell because a continuous leak somewhere had become his sole entertainment for several hours now. A thin sliver of water dripped from the roof between 10-second intervals, and he passed the time by counting them.

...Eight...Nine...Ten- drip!

A black nose twitched, picking up stale dampness lingering in the air. His body ached, but if he stayed still the wounds remained at a manageable dull, continuous pain rather than flaring white-hot agony.

How long had it been since he'd been dragged down into this dark place? He couldn't recall. Perhaps years. At the very least- months. He'd long since given up looking around at his prison, now laying in a dozing, frozen state.

Hearing something, Sesshoumaru's fluffy ear quirked. The blood inside his ear canal had encrusted, leaving sounds muted, but he could pick up distant footsteps descending stone stairs.

Have they returned to pray and bind me more tightly to their pathetic altar?

Sesshoumaru inwardly sneered, scarred paws remaining motionless. Though incredibly weak due to holy water- with his back and arms impaled with large iron stakes- a powerful, simmering rage in his chest refused to be tempered. His throat burned, belly scorching hot.

The church priest would pay, along with all his snivelling followers. One did not bind a Hellhound and live to tell the tale. Their foolish obsession with witch hunts and stamping out 'evil' within the land would be their undoing. They were fortunate they'd captured him while he'd been asleep.

Torchlight shone an orange hue behind Sesshoumaru's eyelids, but he refused to open them, playing possum.

"Still sleeping, are ye, unholy mutt?" a detestable, straight-laced voice reached his damaged ears, another torch being lit inside the room. "Good. Stay that way. Sleep until our heavenly Lord above casts you back from whence you came, down to Hell."

Oh this one will not be returning empty-handed, Sesshoumaru inwardly purred.

Remaining motionless, he looked for all the world unconscious. He couldn't lash out and tear into the priest as desired, due to a muzzle enclosed around his jaw. So, he bided his time. Rescue was out of the question. Dark creatures such as he received no aid from brethren. Sesshoumaru would just have to conserve energy for now.

The priest murmured a prayer that sent wrought iron hissing anew inside his flesh. Inwardly snarling, Sesshoumaru held himself still, refusing to show pain. His legs trembled slightly, giving him away.

Curse you. Curse you!

Wrath pumped through his veins, a siren song urging him to kill.

Satisfied that his work held strong, the head priest left; the sound of footsteps retreated up the stairs, leaving behind the lit torch.

At least that changed the scenery a little. Not that he had any reason to look upon it. Sesshoumaru panted hard the second he was left alone, sharp teeth clenching hard inside his jaw.

A quiet gasp caught his attention. Sesshoumaru froze. His nose twitched.

No scent?

Frowning, the Hellhound pried his eyelids open. Orange and black shapes shifted, blurry until someone's face came into focus.

Blue eyes gazed down at him. A woman with dark hair tumbling down her back slowly pried her hand away from her mouth.

"They really are cruel," she muttered, shocked features becoming grave. "I might as well refrain from asking if you're alright- since you clearly aren't," the stranger winced. "Sorry, that was insensitive."

Sesshoumaru blinked. What the Devil?

Her lips pursed, attention sliding to the iron stakes in his back. "I don't know how they managed to capture you. Surely that Priest can't have holy powers. He's about as pure as mud."

"...What are you?"

She paused, tilting her head and pushing dark hair behind her ear. "O-oh, that was rude of me, I didn't introduce myself, did I?" smiling, she straightened. "My name is Kagome Higurashi. Who are you?"

His question had been left unanswered, for he was largely uninterested in her name. He sneered, "Sesshoumaru."

"Nice to meet you, Sesshoumaru," she brought her hands together behind her back, smiling with only slight wariness. Her faded dress was slightly torn. Peasant wear. "I didn't expect you'd be able to talk."

"And I did not expect to be joined down here by a little lost lamb. Are you my dinner? They do not typically feed me." Saliva pooled in his mouth, drool pooling on the altar. His jaws parted, eyes glinting as they ran over her willowy form.

Kagome stepped away, huffing and crossing her arms. "While I sympathize, don't get rude. If you eat my soul then you really will be all alone- with no allies. You'll have eaten the only help you're going to receive in this place."

Sesshoumaru frowned as she walked out of his available sight, moving around his left side and picking up something from a shelf.

"You seek to give me aid? That seems counterintuitive for a soul as pure as yours."

He could smell it. The light radiating from within her. He knew her to be foreign from her features- and wondered how a priestess from a faraway land had arrived in such a miserable country rife with turmoil and evil; his hunting ground for the past few centuries.

She reappeared in his line of vision, holding a bowl of collected rainwater. She frowned, "I don't think 'pure' means 'doormat.' These men have caused a lot of harm. Harm should come back to them."

Red eyes cracked wider, interest lighting his red gaze. Kagome set the bowl down, resting a knee beside his jaw on the alter. "I'm trying to help you. Please don't eat me for it," with a wobbly smile, she reached for his muzzle.

Sesshoumaru held still, keen attention fixed on her every movement. Her deep blue eyes were pleasing, face quite beautiful in flickering torchlight. His dry tongue shifted within his mouth.

A Hellhound's purpose was to drag corrupted souls to the underworld. Kagome's radiated a strong, fierce glow.

The Japanese woman carefully grasped cool metal chains, pulling them off from around his face and tossing the muzzle aside.

Spittle-coated teeth immediately lunged- latching onto the coarse fabric of her modest dress, canines resting over her chest. Kagome gasped, hands grasping his jaw. Sesshoumaru tilted his head up, forcing her to lean over him slightly.

Crimson eyes glared up at her, growling lowly.

"What is your motivation, priestess?" a dark rumble growled inside her mind. "Tell me why I see black flames of revenge burning in the depths of your soul. A single blemish in your otherwise spotless self."

Kagome exhaled, and he felt her chest expand and fall with each breath. Gentle fingers ran over the silver fur on his face, cracking his eyes wider.

"The Dutch took me from my country a few years ago. Since then, I've been passed around to different places, picking up different languages. When I was forced onto a boat heading for this strange land- I didn't think anything more of it. I was to be the servant of a reputable house, but the priest of this church took issue with my foreign looks. After that, men dragged me here. You're not the only one who has suffered at their hands."

She withdrew her touch- and Sesshoumaru nearly tipped his head to chase it- unfamiliar with gentleness. Sparking holy powers then collected between her fingers, hovering close without making contact.

"I don't want to hurt you, in fact, I'd rather we were allies," the hushed words sounded genuine. "But I won't let you eat me easily either if that's what you're after. Let go."

Sesshoumaru searched her face, becoming entranced; Drunk off the sparking conviction there. What an odd, strong woman.

Letting out a breath of steam that whipped her hair back, Sesshoumaru relaxed his lower jaw, teeth unhooking from where they'd dug into the material of her clothes. He lowered her back to kneel on the altar, immediately diving for the water she'd provided instead.

Kagome caught her breath, holy powers fading away.

He lapped up every last drop, panting for more, wanting to sate the burning in his throat, but it would do for now. Sesshoumaru lifted his head, words firm with conviction as his chest rumbled.

"If you release me from my imprisonment, I will do your bidding for a time, woman. However, you should be aware of the consequences if you set me free."

She absentmindedly rubbed at the spot over her chest where his teeth had been, lips curving. "I know what'll happen to me, Hellhound," Kagome said quietly. "I accept the consequences."

Sesshoumaru bumped her leg with his nose, resting his head upon her thighs. “Then what do you command?”

"I want you to devour them," she murmured, gaze far away as she stroked mindful fingers through matted fur. "I believe in reincarnation, so I want you to prevent these terrible people from ever getting a second chance at life again. Eat them all- except the Head Priest. Him...you can drag home, to the deepest, darkest place available. Never let him be free from the shackles and iron bars you thrust inside him."

Sesshoumaru's breath shuddered. Their judgement aligned perfectly; and she'd spoken his desires aloud.

He had come across countless souls during his wrathful existence. He knew kind ones as well as those corrupted. This was one of the few times Sesshoumaru felt he'd witnessed a kind person pushed too far, beyond her breaking point. Now a deep well of dark emotion had pooled inside her, magnificent in its righteous fury.

Shifting, he dragged a hot, wet tongue up the length of Kagome's collarbone and neck, leaving a slick trail.

"Such pain...I can taste the ash on you," he purred, looking into her sad blue eyes. His voice hardened, incensed with renewed anger from her hurts and his own. "Free me, and it is gladly done."

Kagome shivered, before moving around his side. Gripping one iron bar embedded through his front leg that jutted into the alter below, she planted her knees wide.

"This is going to be a painful process, I'm sorry. W-will you survive the blood loss?"

The white demonic dog flashing her a jagged smile. "Just who do you think you are talking to?"

With a nod, Kagome steeled herself. Giving a hard yank that sent her stumbling backwards- the long, gruelling process began. Only when the agony died down would a monster with blood-red eyes emerge from the bowels of the church.

And all Hell broke loose.

-----

The church tower collapsed through the roof that fateful night. Bloodshed had begun, soaking the air with a coppery taste that quickly became dwarfed by fire. Earlier rainfall could not deter it- nothing stood in its blazing, enraged path.

White flames roared around the silver monster. He chased men down the church aisle in a frenzied hunger, catching them in his jaws. Of course, he saved the best for last.

The Head Priest trembled against a broken wall while screams pervaded the smoky air.

Sesshoumaru turned, panting. A red tongue lolled, snaking up to lick his bloodied maw.

With a yelp, the man tried to scramble away- only for his robes to be snagged on a broken beam. Heavy paws collided with his back, teeth latching into his clothes.

Within the burning depths of the church, a roaring inferno opened up. The Priest clawed and scrambled at blistering ground, cobblestone turning into scolding cinders beneath his palms. Frightened screams rang out as he was dragged backwards, Sesshoumaru descending with him down a winding, fiery path into the earth.

Everything collapsed inwards with one final groan of wood as structures toppled, the building completely caving into a burning wreck.

Kagome stood alone on a hillside, watching the entire thing unfold. She then smoothed her skirts, crouching by an unmarked, mass grave.

"I hope...you'll feel avenged now," she said softly.

She did not run nor scream. Instead, Kagome waited patiently to meet her fate, setting some flowers down.

A white dog demon covered in patches of ash approached silently. He sat beside her, neither acknowledging the violence he'd just committed.

"This is where you are buried?" he asked, gazing intently at her.

The ghost smiled wanly. "Buried makes it sound like we had a funeral. I was dumped in this hole with a few other women after we were sentenced as witches and burned at the stake. Nothing was left but my charred remains," her voice wobbled. Kagome made to wipe some tears- his sticky tongue licking them away before she could.

She gentled, touching his bloodied jaw. "H-how are your wounds?"

"All but mended," Sesshoumaru drew closer, humid breath fanning over her neck. "You know what must happen now."

Kagome laughed cynically. "Mn, because I'm a corrupt soul, you'll be dragging me to Hell too," she brushed a hand over the fur at his shoulder. Blue eyes hesitated for a moment, afraid of something entirely human.

"Will it...hurt?" she whispered.

If it were possible for a demon dog to ease his expression into something a touch less cold and hungry, Sesshoumaru managed to achieve something almost warm. He didn't answer at first, allowing a moment of silence to stretch between them. When he finally spoke again, his speech resounded inside her head as a soft grumble.

"No. Not for you."

"Oh, I'm glad to hear that," a breath rushed out of her dead lungs, arms wrapping around herself as she glanced at the grave. "I've had enough pain, thank you."

"Indeed, you and I both."

A lily-white hand was offered down to her, sliding into her vision. Kagome's gaze drew up to a tall male.

The yellow moon looming behind his head gave him a halo effect; its gentle glow lining his face and dazzling her. Silvery hair split down broad shoulders, hanging like fine royal threads fit for a King. He wore black robes that billowed like dragon smoke.

Sesshoumaru's inhuman face smiled in an unnerving fashion, though she could tell the intent behind it- the desire to reassure her despite evidence of death on his robes. "Shall we go?" he asked in rich, clear tones.

Kagome stared up at the demon's handsome features. Smiling, she grasped his clawed hand without fear, allowing him to pull her up.

"You didn't have to change into such a pleasing form. I was coming with you anyway."

"My form is pleasing?" thin lips curved, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, Sesshoumaru strolled with her down the hill, a gateway opening up within the earth as a huge chasm, welcoming him home.

"Oh hush, you know it is," Kagome smiled tiredly, walking with the Hellhound away from the fire and brimstone burning behind them. "So...will I be punished down there?" her voice was almost lost, spoken so softly.

Glowing eyes smiled. "There is a place some call the Elysian Fields. I will take you to them."

She stiffened, blinking rapidly to expel the salty tears of relief and gratitude welling up in her eyes. Kagome stopped within the cavern of the underworld, causing him to halt with her. Drenched under harsh shadows of the earth about to swallow them whole, his eyes shone red like glittering jewels.

"I suppose I'll need a guard too," she said evenly. "To make sure I don't escape. I'm a very wicked soul, after all. A heretic."

Sesshoumaru flashed his teeth at her. "Hn, the worst kind. I will see to it personally since this one is best suited for such a difficult task."

Smiling with relief, Kagome willingly walked with him into the jaws of Hell.

End

[thinking1bee]

When it Reigns Part 5

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Kara Danvers x Reader

Tags: Angst, Kryptonian!Reader, Parent!Reader, Parent!Kara, Estranged Parent, Graphic Depictions of Injuries, Blood, Humor, Bad Dreams, Memory Loss

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover

It took some more investigative journalism, but you and Kara found out that it was Edge who was behind poisoning the kids. He orchestrated the plan to have chemicals dumped into the pool, and then to frame Lena further by dumping the same chemicals into National City’s water supply. Luckily with some saving from Supergirl, Edge was thrown behind bars and a cure was made for the families afflicted. You sighed for a day well done and you were in the process of saying good night to Angel.

“Will Luke be okay?” she asked you and you smiled.

“Yes. He should be getting better as we speak.”

You leaned down and kissed her forehead when Angel froze.

“Hey what’s wrong?”

She blinked. “You have a hole in your shirt.”

You looked down to see what she was talking about. Sure enough, there was a tear in the fabric of your blouse, and you held it in confusion, wondering how it got there.

“Oh, weird,” you said, shrugging it off. “Sweet dreams, okay?”

Angel nodded before she closed her eyes and you left quietly, smiling fondly as your daughter drifted off to sleep. As you walked down the hall, you felt at the tear in your shirt, and as you kept playing with it, something cold and metallic fell from the torn threads and landed on the floor with a sharp clang. You paused, bending over to pick up the object, and when you inspected it, you saw that it was a bullet.

You were…shot.

And you didn’t feel it.

Your hands went to your stomach, feeling around for anything unusual. You even lifted your shirt to see if there was anything wrong. There was nothing. Just the expanse of smooth and unharmed flesh. You swallowed hard as you looked up, seeing nothing but the emptiness of the hallway in front of you. You couldn’t ignore any of this anymore. You needed answers, so you went into your room and packed a small travel bag. You’d be gone for a day tops and hopefully, you would find what you needed. As you packed, you dialed for Kara, and she answered in the first ring.

“Y/n is everything okay?” she asked, and you smiled. Your darling wife, ever the worrier.

“I’m fine babe,” you replied with the smile playing at your lips. “I was wondering if you would be okay with watching Angel. I need to take a trip.”

You could practically hear Kara fix her glasses while shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Is everything okay?” she asked again.

“I think so. I just need to pay a visit to my mother.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

The question was justified. The relationship between you and your adopted parental figure was less than stable. You’d soon go to hell voluntarily before stepping foot in her house again, but this was important. Something was going on with you and you needed answers. You had to start somewhere.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Kara accepted your promise, trusting that you would be fine like you said. “Okay, just come back soon.”

You smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” you replied, and you disconnected the call.

***

Kara nibbled her lips, staring at the screen when you disconnected the call. She couldn’t help but think that something wears wrong and that you wanted her to think that everything was okay. Whatever it was, she knew that she would have to wrap this up soon. Angel was already home, and judging by the clock on Kara’s phone, was also in bed.

“…Kara?”

Kara looked up to see everyone in the DEO staring at her and she hastily put her phone back in her pocket.

“Sorry.”

“Is everything okay?” Alex asked and Kara shrugged. That was all she could do.

She was so worried about you. Ever since Angel told her about your selective memory loss, she had been so preoccupied with you that it was evoking distracting. She knew she should have followed up with that. She trusted you, as she did, but something was telling her to dive deeper into it and she ignored it. What could be going on that you felt the need to reach out to a woman that you had spoken to in years? Was everything that bad? And what about when Angel got hurt. Angel told her that it was a city light pole that fell on top of her, but she had been less than forthcoming with the details as to how she got free from under it. Things weren’t making any sense.

“Kara?”

Kara blinked and focused on everyone again. Alex had asked her a question and she went on a mental spiral.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, but everyone looked at each other with skepticism. If Kara was truly okay, she wasn’t very convincing about it.

“Are you sure?” Alex asked, mirroring Kara’s early question to you. She nodded.

“Yes. Let’s focus on what caused the earthquake.”

Alex gave her once last look, her eyes searching. Kara nodded, her eyes focused on hers, knowing that she would know what it meant. We’ll talk later. Alex nodded before turning her attention back to the giant screens in front of her.

“Go ahead, Winn.”

Winn typed on his tablet before he dragged his finger across the screen, his wrist flicking, before what was on his tablet appeared on screens for everyone to see. On them was a map, with a single dot highlighted on a specific location. From the dot came virtual shockwaves that pulsed from the single location and spread outwards.

“I was able to pinpoint the exact location of the earthquake,” he explained. “But theres nothing out there.”

Beside him, J’onn nodded and crossed his arms. “I flew from the center and covered the entire area of coverage. There’s nothing there except cracked earth and debris.”

“So, if there’s nothing there, where did the earthquake come from?” Kara asked.

“That’s the mystery,” Winn said as he turned his attention back to the pulsating dot on the screen. Kara watched as the shockwaves emanated from the point over and over, the feeling of foreboding sending a chill down her spine.

***

You pulled up to your mother’s house and put the car in park. She still lived all the way out in Metropolis and was still in the same house and everything. It was like nothing changed. Well almost nothing. She may have stayed the same, but you changed entirely. No matter what happened, you promised to keep your cool. There was a reason why you never so much as sent her a Christmas card. So, you took a deep breath and squared your shoulders, before getting out of the car and knocking on the door. It took a bit of knocking but she finally answered, and she looked at you like she had seen a ghost.

“Y/n?”

“Hello, Elizabeth,” you greeted. “May I come in?”

After some small talk and a glass of water that you still hadn’t drank from, it was finally time to address the elephant in the room. Though if it were up to you, the elephant wouldn’t need to be pointed out anyway. Just acknowledge it and move on.

“I haven’t seen you since…” Elizabeth swallowed thickly, a nervous chuckle escaping her. “Well, you know.

“I couldn’t imagine why you’d expect me to keep in touch after you kicked me out.”

“I did that to teach you a lesson!”

She still believed that? Even after all these years?

“That’s odd because that wasn’t what it felt like.”

She looked away from you, her eyebrows furrowed in hurt, and you had to resist the urge to scoff. Her little act wasn’t going to work on you. You decided that you had enough with strolling down memory lane.

“Do you know where I can find my birth parents?” you asked. At that, her head snapped up and she met your eyes.

“Why?”

“That doesn’t matter. Do you know or not?”

She didn’t answer, she only stared at you, and you could feel your irritation grow. You never asked her of anything, not since she kicked you out, and now that you were asking about your real parents, after all these years, now she wanted to give you a hard time???

“I’m sorry,” was all she said. You smirked and she looked at you.

“You have got to be kidding me. Then at least tell me which adoption agency you adopted me from.”

Elizabeth shook her head, and you actually snapped your fingers, pointing at her as your irritation morphed into rage.

“I’ve never asked you for anything once you threw me out, and this is how you want to play this?!”

“That was to teach you a lesson,” she repeated, like the explanation would make everything okay.

“That what?” you demanded. “That it was never okay for me to like who I liked?”

“You know that I didn’t approve of your homosexual escapades.”

“Oh yeah, and then I dated a guy to make you happy. Good thing for me that he knocked me up and left the moment he found out I was pregnant. I was 19! I needed someone there for me! I needed my mom!”

“Y-you were pregnant?” she whispered, horrified that she hadn’t known until now.

“Yes! And you would have known that if you had just listened to me!”

Elizabeth had thrown you to the side after finding out that you had sex with him. She wanted a good Christian daughter, one that followed every rule in the Bible. That wasn’t you, and no matter how much she tried to force you to learn, or how much she forced you to go to church, it would never be you. Even now. You were happily married and trying your damnedest with your daughter. The relationship with her sperm donor may have been a huge mistake, but Angel never will be that. She was so much more. She was the reason you never gave up, and the woman that was in front of you, was the reason why you never learned to be a good mom. You spent your whole life being what she wanted for her sake.

“Did you keep it?” Elizabeth whispered.

“Her name is Angel,” you said sternly, and you had the satisfaction of watching her flinch. “And I guess by technicality you do have a granddaughter.”

“How is she?”

You stared at her, really stared at her, incredulous that she thought that she had the right to ask about Angel.

“If you think that I would let you, with your religious, Bible thumping poison and rhetoric around her, then I must be on crack.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I’m sorry.”

It was way too late for sorry. That wouldn’t work on you either.

“Do you know anything about my birth parents or the adoption agency that you got me from?” you asked again.

“Why do you want to know so bad?”

You had to stop yourself from screaming in from frustration. Instead, you took a deep breath and looked down.

“Things have been happening to me, Elizabeth,” you started as you looked at her intensely. I keep blacking out to do only God knows what and then I have no recollection of going anywhere or saying anything. Earlier this week, a pole fell on my daughter, and I lifted it clear above my head and threw it away as though it weighed nothing. Yesterday I was at a press conference when someone open fired into the crowd. I was shot, Elizabeth, and I didn’t feel anything. I pulled the crushed bullet from my clothes but there were no marks, no cuts, no anything. The past few weeks have been weird, and I swallowed the anger I have with you to ask you for your help. Now if you know anything, now would be the time to tell me.”

Elizabeth looked at you and was quiet. It seemed like she wasn’t going to say anything until she nodded her head, deciding something internally, before she looked at you.

“Follow me. I want to show you something.”

Part 6

[rubykgrant]

(I made sort of a comic/text illustration for my “How Church Comes Back” theory in my RVB story-line, but here is the main text with some additional descriptions that are hopefully easier to read that in picture-form. The basic premise; when Epsilon deconstructed himself, all the information that made up his “personality” had to GO somewhere... and sometimes after an EMP, digital devices will save their data to the system. The original Epsilon unit is destroyed, but the other AI units still exist, somewhere. The memories of Theta would revive Theta, Delta memories would revive Delta, ect... and the memories of Church himself would revive Alpha. Because, after all, Church is always Church- even when he’s not. He doesn’t exactly enjoy being trapped in the Alpha unit again, though...)

(… a room… no, NOT a room, a virtual space designed to LOOK like a room… familiar, but not comfortable… in fact, as he recognized it, he immediately felt restless. Like an itch to move, to get away, escape... he belonged here... he didn't WANT to belong here... but he did)

Why am I back HERE? I CAN’T be back here, I’m not even… I shouldn’t be anywhere. I shouldn’t be ANYTHING Is this just… is this me having “my life flash before my eyes”? Why just THIS? Why am I seeing something at all? OK, I’m not an expert on the after-life, but… I guess I figured I’d kinda just be nothing. Is this supposed to be purgatory for Artificial Intelligence? I mean, I guess that fits…

(Time passed… a long time? Hard to tell… it felt like a while. Maybe it was only a few hours, or a day… nothing changed in here. There was nothing in here but HIM, and he didn’t want to be here. Sometimes he sort of drifted away... stopped paying attention, let himself lose focus. It was like falling asleep, but when he woke up... he was still trapped in the same place)

Alright, I’m getting real SICK and TIRED of being here. Also getting pretty DONE with not knowing WHY. I deconstructed myself, I basically DELETED myself… Why am I still even aware of anything? Why am I stuck somewhere that looks like… if I HAVE to keep existing, can I at least… Can I just… can I find out what happened? What happened AFTER? I was ready to be gone forever, I was ready to say good-bye… I assumed everything about me would end… And I was ready for that I made peace with not KNOWING But I’m still aware, and still existing, can’t I… I just want to know if they’re OK Are they OK? Can anybody hear me? Or am I just talking to myself?

(If he was still existing, then where were the others? Delta, Theta… Gamma, Eta, Iota… he’d even settle for Omega and Sigma… just SOMEBODY else. Somebody he could interact with… somebody to help him figure out what was happening. This was… it was too much like something that had happened to him BEFORE, and it was CONFUSING. He felt like he could slip back into one of his memories, it would be so EASY to just distract himself by recreating a moment he had already lived through… but that was scary. So easy to fall into a memory, and then feel like it was happening again… he was afraid of doing that)

WHY AM I HERE? I’m not the Alpha anymore, I’m BARELY Epsilon I shouldn’t be ANYTHING, but I am… And I’m HERE. I don’t WANT to be here I’d rather be ANYWHERE but here Being stuck in Blood Gulch again would be better than HERE This has to be some kind of memory glitch… this can’t be real, this CAN’T be where I actually am. It has to be fake. It has to be a trick Oh SURE, this isn’t real, every time I was here, all I saw was… Oh no… No no no no no no no no no Please, NO

(Another failure, another failure, another failure… he wasn’t supposed to fail, he was supposed to fix problems, he was supposed to help people, what was wrong with him, why did this keep happening… NO THAT WAS BEFORE. That happened a long time ago… it seems like a long time ago. How much time has passed? It was hard to tell. This is different, though. Well, it was the same, but it was different… right? Or was THIS just a memory? Was he remembering being here again? Then why does he keep thinking about NEW memories, new parts of his life, new things that he’s done? Because he HAS done these things. He left this place behind, and he… he had gone to other places… met people… but now he was back. That didn’t make sense)

This is where they put me through all those simulations. All those fake scenarios. This is where they tricked me, and lied to me. This is where they tortured me. They made me think I was hurting people. They made me care about people, and then they made me think… They made me think I was killing people Over and over and over and over and over and over and… And… and then they DID hurt people, using me. They forced people into situations, and those people died. They created those situations because of ME They used my thoughts to manipulate people. They used fragments made from me to control people. They used me… I can’t be here, I can’t do this AGAIN. I was DONE, this was OVER. If… if I’m here... does that mean… was everything…

(It was his fault, he kept failing, he couldn’t get anything right, he was broken, why did this keep happening, he was supposed to make sure everybody succeeded, he was supposed to keep them alive, but it wasn’t working, he wasn’t working… he had to treat every simulation like it was REAL, that was the only way to be sure he was trying hard enough, but that means every failure kills him, because it kills them, even when it doesn’t. He just wants to talk to them, directly, so they KNOW he’s sorry. If he could just tell them he actually cares, he doesn’t want them to get hurt, maybe they’d understand… and if he could talk to them, maybe he’d know if they were really alive or not)

NO, IT WAS REAL. THEY WERE ALL REAL. WHAT I DID WITH THEM WAS REAL. IT HAS TO BE I know it was… please, it had to be real… I couldn’t go through all THAT, and then just… just leave… OH NO, no no no, that’s what they did to me BEFORE. They would just RIP ME OUT of a scenario when they were done. Then they would RIP OUT whatever little piece of me they thought they needed. What else? WHAT THE HELL ELSE? I already lost everything! I lost my friends, I lost the people I loved, I lost parts of my own mind! I lost my memories! I LOST MY LIFE I don’t have anything left… all I had was… was knowing they’d be OK after I was gone… I can’t lose that, too. That HAD to be real

(He keeps feeling more alone, but that doesn’t make sense, it was always just HIM in here, he didn’t have anybody else… except maybe he did, he just can’t remember… he forgets sometimes… he didn’t used to forget things. He was alone, here, just him… and then he wasn’t alone anymore. He had somebody else. Then he was alone again… except now he knew how much he didn’t like it. Somehow, that feeling kept growing, that EMPTINESS, until he felt less… and less… like himself)

I know it was real, I KNOW IT WAS. I don’t care what happens to me next, but I’m NOT letting go of that. I’m not letting go of them… I remember talking to them all, and that was REAL Tucker was REAL, Caboose was REAL. Donut, Grif, Simmons, Sarge- they were REAL. Lopez, Doc, Wash- they were REAL. Carolina was REAL Tex was… Tex was real, and I… I kept hurting her. Because they kept wanting me to bring her back. And she kept getting hurt, so I finally let her go… Please… PLEASE. They HAVE to be OK. I wanted to save them That was all I wanted, they have to be OK

(This wasn’t what happened before, NO, this was new, it was, he could remember them, he remembered his friends, he remembered everything he did, he just had to keep reminding himself that this was DIFFERENT… but it was hard to remember that… when he just kept being HERE… alone… alone like before. He missed his friends… he did have friends, didn’t he? He only had one friend, first… then they took her away, and kept her away. He had missed her, and worried about her… especially when they told him she was in trouble, and in danger, and he was supposed to figure out how to keep her alive, but he always failed. He had more friends now… friends that had been in trouble, and in danger… did he fail again?)

They have to be real. I need them to be real. Those memories were MINE, that life was MINE. They were NOT just another trick. They were real, and I saved them, I didn’t… I didn’t just… leave them… to get hurt. Please, no, I didn’t hurt them… not after all that. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stand it if I was hurting them Is that it? Is that the plan this time? Give me a whole group of friends that I care about. Give me a whole family that I… Give me all that, and then make me think they’re gonna DIE? Just to take me away at the last minute? Or are they really in danger? Are they really going to die, and I’m not even THERE? I can’t even help them? Are they going to be put into more dangerous situations… Just to see what I’ll do? Are they the new “tool” that gets used to manipulate me? Fine- FINE If I have to let them go, if I have to forget them, I will. If it keeps them safe I don’t care about anything else. I just want them to be OK If I’m just being used to hurt people again… I’ll let go of them to make it stop Hurt me all you want, but LEAVE THEM ALONE

(He drifted away from himself… it was like falling asleep, but different than the way a human might do it. He just wasn’t… “aware” of his own thoughts for a little while… he drifted away, slipped into memories, had moments where he went blank… when he focused again, he was still here. Trapped. In the little cell that had been made just for him. He belonged here, and he hated it. How long had he been here? Had he ever really LEFT here? Maybe that didn’t matter… because, in the end, he always came to the same conclusion; treat every simulation like it was real. It hurt… but if he didn’t fail, if he actually kept his friends safe… that was good enough)

What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to think? What was the point of all this? They cared about me, too That’s why this hurts, that’s why it was hard to say good-bye. I don’t know why, but they liked me. They really DID, and that can’t just… that can’t be a lie Don’t hurt them. I don’t know who’s doing this anymore, but don’t hurt them I don’t know what you want from me, but you can have it, just don’t hurt them I don’t even care about what was real or not anymore, I DON’T CARE I JUST CARE ABOUT THEM IT DOESN’T MATTER HOW MUCH THIS HURTS ME DON’T HURT THEM PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Just… let them be OK Please…