#who gave you an axe to grind

[daycourtofficial]

Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 7.2k | warnings: depictions of violence, poison, death, blood, slight gore

Summary: Eris tells his mate to stay with his mother, the Lady of Autumn, while he sets plans into motion to become the new High Lord.

Note: this is apart of my gingerfucker series and is a companion piece to ‘Cold was the steel of my axe to grind’.

Author’s note: happy day 3 of @erisweekofficial - it’s the best day of the year!

A cold chill racked through your body, something tugging in your chest causing you to wake up. The scent of burnt cedar and apple cider filled your nose. Wide eyes investigated the room around you as you stayed still, the brown walls unfamiliar to you. The spike of anxiety was quickly soothed as you spotted a redhead a few feet from you, the bright hair calling to you like a flame.

You softly pulled yourself from bed, silently observing him as he moved about the room, his steps quiet as he thought you slumbered. The bond in your chest hummed at seeing him, so happy to be so close to him. You stood with the blanket around your shoulders, arms crossed waiting for him to notice you.

The minimal light that caused his torso to shine dulled your joy at seeing him.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was hoarse from sleep, but it stopped him immediately, your mate frozen in place before he turned to face you. Warmth crept over you beneath his gaze, blocking out the cold air.

“Going for a stroll.”

Your eyes roamed his body, trying to convey without words how idiotic that excuse was. Did he think that excuse would actually work? He moved closer, his steps deceptively quiet with all that he wore. He placed whatever items he was carrying on the bed behind you before he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his mouth opening and closing as if he were unsure where to start. You waited, not pressing for more detail, knowing he’d open up to you.

“Please.”

It was all that came from him, despite the look in his eyes. Depths lay within them, a single word conveying so little and so much at the same time. Your mate was layers and layers of complexities, several centuries of a life you only saw tangentially. You knew Eris - your mate, the one whose song echoes through your ribcage whenever you woke every morning, the one you spent centuries to earn his trust. But you had never seen this version of him in person before - the one who held his side of the bond on a tense lockdown, a fortress not allowing any feeling in or out. The one who does what he has to to survive. You can know something about someone and never have to see it.

He was imperceptibly different. His hair tousled as he had been pulling and tugging at it. The purple and blues beneath his eyes, the wild energy he had about him. 

Everywhere he went, Eris carried an air about him that screamed I know how this ends. The air often contorted around him, as if it blew in his favor. But now he stood with an air of unease around him, no breeze to stroke his ego as he moved.

Every other part of his body was honed and trained for this. Muscles taxed and well-defined from years of use, a determination in his jaw that he would see this through to the end. 

But his eyes always gave him away.

Mor had once described his eyes as a pit of despair, a never ending labyrinth of pain and suffering. She was right, but she had the wrong intentions. She thought he was the beast within the maze, searching for his next meal, the darkness pushing him forward. But Eris played both parts to that story: the beast and whoever was unlucky enough to be trapped within. He had been stuck in a labyrinth of suffering and his eyes shone with light from the exit.

You watched as his fingers trailed over the features of your face, his touch leaving a trail of heat on your skin. Your gaze took in everything about him - his sunken shoulders, the fire simmering in his eyes, the thousands of freckles you once spent an entire evening comparing to the constellations.

“My mate.”

You never thought belonging to someone would feel so freeing. Your parents were mates -  growing up you watched your father always sling that phrase around as if your mother was merely an accessory to him. She wasn’t yours or Rhys’s mother, nor was she her own person, but rather a vessel for your father to use whenever he found it appropriate. 

Eris made the words sound decadent, a place of honor, the greatest title one could receive. As if it were a second name that had been etched into your soul and only he could discern the engraving.

“Stay with my mother. Please.”

An argument laid on the tip of your tongue, staying there as you took in how he looked at you, his eyes betraying him only to you. His shoulders straightened as he looked at you. Holding his gaze, your mind swirled with thoughts to go with him, to be with him. You were a pair, bounded by fate through this life and the next. 

His eyes were pleading to stay, as if you could make out the word in smoke reflected through his irises. Your mouth closed before you nodded, your decision finalized as he gripped your jaw lightly. 

Eris kept all of his plans close to his chest, a quality you admired but also loathed about him. You weren’t sure if he got lucky or was incredibly clever. A mixture of both, perhaps. Maybe that mixture is what has brought Eris here, what has led him to this moment, this opportunity. He’s outlived two brothers, survived centuries of horrific events he only just recently began opening up about, two wars, and being held captive underneath Amarantha. 

Eris was cunning and intelligent. Despite his sharp tongue, he does care about the people of Autumn and his brothers and mother. 

But you would be lying if it didn’t keep you up at night when the luck would end, when Beron would find out about some hidden scheme and go too far to punish Eris.

You had taken your step forward to that fate, Rhysand discovering your secret mateship and being so furious at your refusal to step down that he banished you from his court. You had made your move and now he had to make his. This was Eris’s fight. This was Eris’s father. A male so awful in public to the point you wondered constantly how far his cruelties extended to in the privacy of the Forest House - his servants, his family, courtiers. Perhaps his cruelty contained no bounds, opting to injure anyone if it meant progress or amusement for him.

Eris clutched your face, this brief moment of time extending into a small eternity. The fate of the day was unknown. His arms wrapped around you, clutching you to his chest as you wrapped your arms around his back, fingers gripping the armor, searching for something to grasp onto. The string that tied the two of you together pulled taut, begging for there to be no space between your bodies as you clutched each other.

The last moment of vulnerability before a coup.

He pulled away just enough to cup your jaw, his warm lips meeting your own. Your hands moved up into his hair, clinging desperately to him, giving everything you have to him, wanting him to tuck it away somewhere and give him some form of protection.

Eris was the first one to pull away, his thumb swiping your cheek as he slowly pulled his head back before moving up to give one final kiss on the top of your head. He pulled away, your heart leaping at your rib cage, reaching for him as he collected his things from the bed and departed without looking back.

You stood in the quiet room, not moving from the spot he had left you in, watching the sun rise through the light streaking in across the door. It brushed across your skin, the warmth an echo of Eris’s heat. The hustle and bustle of servants on the other side of the door finally jolted you from your ruminations, your mind pulling from your heart’s desire to lay in his bed, inhaling his scent until he returned. 

You were in the dark about Eris’s plans, stuck to wait until Marigold found you. You were ill-equipped for front line fighting in Autumn: you had no armor and little experience fighting fire wielders, and while you were skilled enough in hand to hand combat, it was nearly impossible for you to know who was friend or foe to Eris. An entire court made of sly foxes, several of them who would salivate at the knowledge the Princess of the Night Court was in their midst. You had a handful of names of those you could trust, but no faces to match them to. So you waited for the one person Eris has always said you could trust no matter the circumstances. 

Eris had slipped out into the darkness, off to set plans into motion you were certain nobody knew the full extent of, everyone involved getting their own sliver of orders and nothing more.

It was morning now and you had cracked open his window, offering prayers to the stars, the moon, the Mother, the cauldron, ancient war gods whose names had been lost to time. All beings who existed outside of your sight at the moment, but you hoped they could hear you nonetheless. You even sent some words to your own mother, hoping wherever she was, she too would watch over your mate.

Wait for my mother.

It was all you clung to as you waited until your voice had grown hoarse with spoken prayer, one task you could accomplish, no matter how impossible it felt. You turned your attention toward Eris’s desk - a neat and tidy thing that you were sure contained several hidden compartments, many nights spent staring at various parchments, writing letters to you. You wondered briefly if he kept your letters somewhere, a hidden stash bundled together, any hint of your scent having been removed from repeated reading and rereading.

That had been your downfall. But you were a much more sentimental creature than Eris was. The letters would be a trail, a link between the two of you. A link one couldn’t afford. Your chest panged in agony at the notion that Rhys likely hard burned your letters, the ones you could recite from memory now. The ones that would have been the only physical proof of your bond if things don’t go well today. 

You shook your head, needing it clear as you grabbed parchment and a pen, writing quickly with only slight hesitation. It was early - the sun was barely risen, and you were certain if he were out he would be in shortly. You didn’t even bother creating a seal - it didn’t need one, and matches weren’t something Eris likely kept around.

You sent the letter off before you could second guess yourself, hoping he would understand and come anyway. You didn’t know what the day would yield, but something in your gut churned at the thought of him not being here. You had pleaded in your letter that things were in motion you couldn’t stop and there was potential for loss of life - from both you and the servants and children who occupied the Forest House. 

You prayed his need to protect and help would override the immense anger he was feeling. Your mate would be livid if he found out, but he would get over it. You both were making choices today, and any choice that furthered your safety isn’t one Eris could be too upset about. 

A knock on the door pulled you from your ruminations, turning to find a young female opening the door but not entering. Her light brown hair was wrapped around her head in an elaborate braid, a simple smock covering the brown, high neck dress that covered her body.

She bowed to you, a slight curtsy as she dropped, “morning, miss. My Lady wishes to see you.”

You looked her over, noticing no weapons from what outlines the clothes afforded her. She stood out with how plain she looked - maybe the Vanserras stood out with how ornately they dressed.

“No.” Her brown eyes widened, her mouth opening to argue, but you continued. “If she wishes to see me, she will come here.”

Eris gave you three warnings: stay safe, stay with Marigold, and if you feel the bond die, get the Hel out of Autumn. 

Two of those were implied, but you knew him well enough to know what he would want. You weren’t certain about the last two points, but the first you could comply with. This room was warded - only those who shared Eris’s maternal line or a mate could enter, and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to use what Eris had given you to your advantage.

The servant bowed unceremoniously before shuffling off, closing the door before her quick footsteps moved down the hall. A few moments later a soft knock caused you to turn before the Lady of Autumn herself entered the room, her long red hair making her both enchanting and comforting to look at. Eris’s brothers all carried elements of Marigold in their faces, Cormac even carried the soft edges of her voice with him.

But Eris was his mother’s son. 

It had been years since you last saw her - the last High Lord’s meeting when Feyre had lost control. She had looked so downtrodden then, as if pain didn’t faze her, a reality of everyday life. The sight had nearly made you nauseous, dreams littered for the next few months of a similar fate for you should Beron discover your mateship.

The female that stood before you today looked resolute and determined. She was practically glowing with excitement, but her eyes held the same look that Eris’s did whenever his mind was overflowing with possibilities.

“How lovely it is to properly meet my son’s mate.”

Her voice reminded you of your own mother, some maternal charm laced her words. A five minute conversation was likely all she needed before fae decided they trusted her completely, despite the personas her sons and husband wore to the public.

You bowed to her, offering a greeting fitting as visiting royalty. Visiting banished royalty, you supposed.

“Good morning, Lady Marigold.”

She curtsied deeply before rising. “Good morning, dear. I presume based on your presence here that your High Lord knows now.”

Her eyes were striking as they took you in - so lifeless the past few years, but now so bright and full of hope.

No one loves a boy quite like his mother does.

“You would be correct. I’m uncertain if he knows of my exact location, but he is less than thrilled about this Cauldron-made match and is in need of time to adjust.”

You could be diplomatic. Eris was off somewhere, Mother knew where, doing Mother knows what. But you had to be careful. Every step you took today had to be carefully placed - either for the outcome of your becoming Lady of Autumn or for becoming whatever Eris’s death will make of you.

She nodded her head as if she understood Rhysand’s feelings perfectly. “It was quite a shock to learn of. I had a hard time with it myself.”

You tried to keep the surprise off your face, not knowing that Eris ever told his mother about the two of you.

“It wasn’t Eris who told me.” 

You were worse at hiding your shock at that statement. Speaking to Marigold felt like she could hear the truth pouring out of you, as if your truths were whispered on the wind and straight to her ears. 

“It was that night all those years ago when the new High Lord of Spring brought you here.”

Memories dumped over you like a bucket of ice, that night only a few flashes and blurs of images, all red hair and blood. You never knew that she had been there that night.

“I didn’t know that things between you and my son had progressed. I knew you were mates, but Eris has always been a startling private person.”

She stood with such poise it was impossible to compare her with the shell she was the last time you had seen her.

“It was my youngest who told me the two of you were still involved.”

Lucien, you thought. Slimy little devil.

Lucien was the only one who knew - he had found out a few months prior having caught the scent of his brother lingering on one of your cloaks. You had been so furious with yourself - a century of hiding meant nothing when a little brother became invested.

“He was quite thrilled at the match, actually.”

That surprised you. Lucien had been quite short with you when he found out, that mechanical eye whirring and clicking at you as if it were admonishing you in a tongue you didn’t understand.

“He was hopeful for you to become a part of this family. Hopeful that perhaps a new addition may help us recognize how awful things have become.” 

She walked about the room, looking at the walls you were certain she had seen for centuries as if for the first time, her leisurely stroll giving no indication of the time crunch you were all in.

“My family is… not what I expected when I was young and full of dreams.” Her voice was just as sweet, but lost in the haze of centuries of time. “I had dreamt of a loving husband. I knew children were expected of me, but I could never imagine the direction my life would take.”

Her voice soured, that honey glazed warmth of nostalgia was replaced with something close to a reprimand.

“I will not pretend as if I know you or your motivations with my son, but I know Lucien. He is the most like me. At least, a long forgotten version of myself.” She took a staggering breath before continuing, her stride uninterrupted as she paced around you. “I know my sons. And while I don’t want to believe Eris could be fooled, mating bonds are tricky, overpowering things. One could fool Eris or Lucien, but not both of them.”

She fixed her eyes on you, looking for something you couldn’t see. It felt like being beneath the gaze of Lucien’s mechanical eye with a lack of clicking to accompany the scrutiny.

“Do not take their trust lightly.”

You nodded, swallowing harshly. She was very maternal, but there was something lurking beneath the surface you couldn’t pinpoint. It felt full of resentment, as if her perfumey smell was an attempt to cover up some rotten part of her long forgotten.

“Yes, Lady.”

“For today, you may call me Marigold.”

“And tomorrow?”

“If there is a tomorrow for the both of us, we shall figure that out.”

-

You had just a moment to yourself in Marigold’s chambers, opting to use it to send an additional letter, letting him know that if he didn’t come now, it’d be next to impossible to find you again.

Other than Eris, there was no one you trusted more. You fiddled with your bodice, ensuring it was in place as you waited, your hands straightening the front of your skirt, itching to tug at the collar of your dress. It felt suffocating, like you couldn’t take a proper breath.

A cool breeze came through the room before he materialized in the shadows of the room behind you. You turned to meet his hazel eyes full of anger as they looked up and down your form, taking in the plain servants clothes you wore. You quickly moved to turn on the faucet, blasting the water as harshly as it would go.

“Hi Az.” You waved a hand slightly, attempting to dispel his cold anger that flooded the room.

He didn’t move, hardly a corporeal form as only his face was tangible through the shadows.

“I need your help. Please.”

Anger swam in his eyes, undeterred by the pleading in your voice. He stood silently, the shadowy blob staying in place and it was then you realized he was waiting for more information.

“I need you to just follow me. In the shadows. I don’t know what the day will entail,” your voice was hushed, trying not to be heard over the running faucet, “but I wanted you nearby in case anyone got hurt.”

His eyes still burned with fury, but one of his wings twitched ever so slightly before his body melted into a pool of shadow that swam around your feet. You decided that was the best outcome to receive from him before you looked once more in the mirror, using a glamour to hide your violet eyes before you left the bathroom.

You followed Marigold out of her chambers, the glamour over your eyes making your vision slightly murky. Violet eyes would give you away, but light brown eyes caused you to blend in with the other staff of the Forest House.

The two of you had a mission - starting from the top and trickling through all of Beron’s more trusted advisors. This was always her initial plan to help Eris, but it felt good to assist her as she had meetings with each and every one of them throughout the day. She had been ruthless this morning before retrieving you, practically bullying these males into seeing her for a cup of tea at some point during the day. 

She developed a routine with each one, as if she were in a performance that she had been doing nightly for years. You would follow in behind her as she sat with whoever it was, the males much too worried about Beron to deny his wife anything. They had an air of annoyance about the disruption, but Marigold never stayed long enough to let it fester beyond that. 

It was perfectly choreographed - her insistence that they try this new delightful tea she had been working, your bow before pouring it for them. You used your own powers of charm to aid Marigold’s, manipulating the emotions of the unsuspecting advisors to feel fully at ease, enticing them to drink the tea.

It was genius, truly. She told you she had been doing this for years, spending her free time experimenting with different tea flavors, noting who liked what flavors to better entice them when the time came. Ultimately she had four different flavors, most every advisor drinking from the cup readily.

Each time you listened for them to slump from their desk as you walked through the halls, quickly locking the door behind you to keep them from being disturbed before bustling after Marigold’s retreating form. 

It was lucky the males didn’t look too closely at the new servant girl with a dark shadow trailing her figure.

-

It had taken hours, but you and Marigold had made it through your list of adversaries to take out. The only ones you weren’t able to take down were those that were scattered throughout Autumn, too far to reach, but Marigold assured you Eris had them taken care of in one way or another. 

The Forest House was calm as you slipped into Eris’s chambers, Azriel barred at the door. The shadow remained on the floor as you chuckled, agitation clear at the shadows movement on the ground. You waited as he moved across the hall, searching the room before returning, a silent request to follow. You quickly obliged, shutting the door behind yourself before the shadowy blob on the floor took more of an Illyrian look as he towered over you, his wings tight in agitation.

“I know you’re mad but-“

“Mad? I’m furious. I- him? Him? I’ve been following you around all day to ensure you didn’t die.”

You understood where he was coming from - you did little to help Eris’s reputation amongst the Inner Circle over the years, but the bond inside of you still yearned to claw at Azriel’s face for how he was speaking about your mate. A hand ran over your face, a deep breath to soothe the bond within you.

“Yes, well, the night is far from over, Azriel. I need your help to ensure the children and servants are safe. I don’t know how this will play out-”

“Oh, you don’t know how this will play out?” His eyes were wide with rage, his words clipped as he interrupted you. “You mean your “mate” didn’t tell you the details of his plan?”

His fingers went up in air quotes around the word ‘mate’ and it made you see red as you slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shut up, Azriel. I don’t know the specifics of this plan-”

He laughed through your hand, pushing it off of him. “Of course you don’t - he’s fooled you! He’s using you to-”

“To what, Azriel? Protect the defenseless fae inside the Forest House? Oh no, he’s so terrible.”

Your tone was mocking. The shadowsinger began tugging at his hair, looking away from you. 

“How long?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes it matters.” He was quick to whirl around, his eyes wild in fury. “You have been lying to your family, to me, for gods know how long!”

It was silent between the two of you, the only sound was his heavy breathing. You toed the ground slightly, knowing exactly how this conversation will go.

“Do you remember the night my wings were cut off?”

The words sent Azriel spiraling, the scent of copper and fear tinging his nose. It was always there, lurking in the back of his mind. His wings branched out, urging him to grab you and fly far, far away from here.

“No.”

It had never made sense before. His one word was full of disbelief, his face slacken with shock.

“Az, Tamlin found me and-“

Azriel used his hands to block his ears, “no, you have to be kidding me. This is a joke.”

Irritation rose in you at how childish he was being, the large Illyrian before you looking absurd as he paced the room. “This is all some stupid joke that you’re pulling because you and Cassian thought it would be funny.”

You shook your head, shaking his shoulders slightly to get him to look at you.

“No because that- I always knew something was off I-“

He was spiraling, his thoughts a whirlwind of realizations and things he overlooked. Several moments passed before he finally looked down at you, eyes full of understanding. “I have spent centuries trying to figure out that night. How I found you in a clearing not far from the site.”

Your silence was enough for him to determine your guilt, the final piece clicking into place.

“You lured me away. You manipulated me into feeling calm and not looking at what I knew made no sense!”

You bit your tongue. It was the one loose thread that could unravel your careful secret. It was the one thing you felt awful about over these centuries.

Any mention of that night immediately caused you to gauge Azriel’s emotions, never allowing them past sadness or grief over the events. 

Rhys and Cassian were too full of happiness that you had survived, never looking at the details. But Azriel thought over every last detail of events, even centuries down the line.

You felt the anger seep through the shield you kept up, allowing his emotions to swirl inside you.

Betrayal. Anger. Devastation.

His nails dug into the skin of his palm, and guilt washed over you. 

“It’s why you couldn’t find me until the next morning. Tamlin had brought me here because I kept asking for Eris.”

Azriel growled at the mention of your mate and you snapped your teeth back at him, the action surprising him, his shadows skittering in fear.

“He and Marigold healed me and the bond snapped for him but it didn’t snap for me until later. He is my mate and while the choices I made hurt you, I did it for him.”

He stepped back as if your words had physically wounded him, but you kept advancing forward, the truth finally spilling from your lips.

“You have every right to be upset with me and the choices I made. You are my family, Az. I hated lying to you. But he is my mate and anyone knowing would jeopardize our lives.”

He scoffed, standing his ground, but you could see understanding in his eyes.

“If anyone knew and it somehow had gotten back to Beron-“

His harsh tone cut you off. “Don’t try to convince me you did this for anything other than selfish reasons.”

“Okay fine, I was selfish! If Beron knew, he would have demanded that I be in Autumn. I spent years trying to figure something out. Everything would have ended up with Beron using me to keep Eris in line.”

His cheeks were red, from anger or being out of breath you couldn’t tell. “You could have told me. I would have helped. I’m a spymaster for cauldron’s sake! My job is full of secrets.”

“And maybe I wanted to keep you unburdened,” you snapped.

“You’re excusing your lies by not wanting to burden me? You’re unbelievable!” He threw his hands up in the air, anger seeping from his pores. Angry at the betrayal and maybe a little at his own shortcoming for not figuring it out.

“What I did was wrong, Az, but would you not have done the same?”

Azriel would think about this fight, many years later, his own mate wrapped in his arms. How resolute you had been in doing whatever you thought was necessary to protect your mate, even from the scrutiny of your own family. Time would soften his anger, offering a new perspective on your actions that can only come with shared experience. 

For now, he was so overcome with his anger it felt nearly impossible to even think about understanding your viewpoint.

“Even if tonight is a disaster, and Eris dies,” the thought has you catching your breath, the string connecting him to you almost cutting off your circulation, “it will all have been worth it for the chance to be with him.”

Azriel’s icy resolve met the determined look in your eye, his demeanor changing very little. Your argument was halted by screams in the hall, the unmistaken sound of  swords clashing with each other. His eyes shifted to the hallway the same time his hand moved toward Truth-teller strapped to his hip. His other hand moved to the dagger strapped to his chest, unsheathing it before handing it to you. His eyes didn’t move back down, still unable to look at you. But the dagger was a bridge. It was full of hope. You took it. It was also the preferred weapon of the Autumn Court, a fact you can’t decide if Azriel was thinking of when he picked it for you.

Azriel moved to the door, sending shadows beneath it to get a better grasp of what was going on outside of it. You heard distant barking and the sounds of fighting, swords clashing against one another in combat. Screams of pain and fear, none of them sounding like Eris.

“You and I will round up anyone not involved in this and we’ll bring them back here. Some of my shadows will stay behind, barring anyone from entering the room without our say so.”

He looked at you, his face hard and ready to move on your word. Azriel could hold a grudge so tightly it caused him to lose any sense of self, any sense of rationale. His anger often became an untamed thing - wild, free-roaming.

But he came. He came because you asked, certainly defying any orders from Rhysand about your punishment. You were sure your brother had told everyone not to engage with you - to not even speak your name until you came crawling back, begging for forgiveness. But there was one thing Azriel would always put above his court - his family.You took a deep breath before nodding, the sounds of life and death getting louder as Azriel opened the door. 

“I’ll go left, you go right.”

You turned to move, but Azriel grabbed your elbow, unwilling to let go. “We move together or we don’t move at all.”

His gaze was unflinching and you knew the two of you didn’t have long at all until the winds of chaos picked the two of you up and whirled you into its orbit. You nodded and he followed as you went to the right, trying to find Marigold’s chambers once more. 

The two of you moved further from the clanging and screams, but the sounds were following you slowly as you moved down the hall, checking each room as you went. Some of Azriel’s shadows moved ahead of you, searching each room up and down as you went. 

A few doors down, a shadow wrapped around your wrist, tugging you to a door on the left. You softly padded in, looking around the empty bedroom, calling out a soft hello to whoever was in here. The shadow swirled past you, moving toward the wardrobe that stood in the room. You felt someone in it, felt their nerves speak through you as you sent soothing strokes to them, calming their heart rate as you spoke.

“We’re here to help. We can get you to safety.” The anxiety spiked in the person once more, your powers working to soothe them again. “Really, we are. We just want to move you to another room that we have protected.”

Azriel remained quiet, tucking his wings into his back to appear much smaller. The person in the wardrobe shifted, the creak in the wood giving their spot away. Your voice was a soothing balm, a siren-like quality to the way it called out, “please, we won’t hurt you.”

The wardrobe door swung open, a small boy of probably ten crouched inside, hiding behind several long forgotten coats. You held out a hand, which he gladly took as you helped him from the wardrobe.

“We’ve secured a room for anyone we find. Can we take you there?”

He nodded, flinching at a loud sound from the other side of the door. You continued your grip on his hand as you led him down the hall to the room, the shadows moving to allow the three of you entry.

“What’s your name?”

He sniffled, fidgeting with his jacket, looking around the dark room. “Jasper.”

“Jasper, we have to go find others who may be hurt. But we need you to stay here. You’ll be safe.”

He looked up at you, bright golden eyes pleading for you to stay. 

“It’ll be scary, but we have to try to save as many fae as possible. Do you understand?”

He nodded, his eyes looking all over the place. His cheeks were red and stress oozed out of him with every inhalation.

“Jasper, we will be back. We’ll come back with others.”

Azriel grabbed your elbow, pulling you away from the boy. Jasper nodded, his dirty blonde hair shaking with the action. Your chest caved a little at leaving him, but Azriel was right to pull you away. Back outside the door, once the shadows reappeared as a barrier, you blinked away the tears before looking back at the shadowsinger.

The two of you continued moving, dodging the sounds of chaos as you moved through the enormous house, finding servants and whatever bystanders you could. The fighting lasted for hours, yours and Azriel’s hunt for innocent fae lasting as long as possible. The two of you even had to secure a second room on the opposite end of the house because the first became so overcrowded.

The halls were in a state of chaos - furniture was everywhere, broken bits of wood littered the floors. The two of you tried to keep pathways clear, moving broken bits out of the way for safer passage. The two of you were bringing someone back to your safe room - a young female - when a harsh tug on your chest brought tears to your eyes, the bond feeling so strong since it was quieted. You turned to Azriel, words getting lost as a tear fell down your cheek. Your chest whirled with emotions, a constant tugging calling you away.

“Thank you.”

For coming, for his eternal friendship, for his loyalty, for everything. 

He nodded, still too mad to accept any gratitude for his presence. “Are you going to tell him about what you got up to tonight?”

You couldn’t even say his name, still so incredibly pissed off at him and how he handled everything. How the past 24 hours have seen a complete change in not only yourself or your mate, but an entire court, all of Prythian forever changed.

“He knows very little of how I spend my nights, and he made his feelings about you very clear yesterday.”

His eyes softened as he looked at you as if seeing you truly for the first time. Despite his anger at you, you surged forward and wrapped your arms around his torso, squeezing him tightly to you. He folded around you, his shadows swirling around you as he deepened the hug. 

“Please, never wear brown again. Red and orange suit you much better.”

It was a peace offering. You didn’t know how long he’d stay mad at you, and everything in you wanted to hold him close to you until he forgave you. But this was centuries of lies, half-truths, and emotional manipulation. Things you knew Azriel had to work through. You could practically see him in his study, late at night hunched over journals going through the past century in hopes of untangling your lies.

Tonight proved two impossibles: Azriel helping Eris ascend the throne, even in such a minor way, and Eris finally defeating Beron.

You squeezed him one last time, muttering more thanks into his chest.

“I have to- to go find Eris.”

His arms slackened as you pushed off of his chest, sprinting through the halls, not watching Azriel disappear back into the shadows, looking forward and following where the tug kept pulling you. Turning corners, jumping over overthrown chairs, ignoring fae until you came to grand doors to what you assumed was the throne room. The doors were slightly ajar and you pushed them open with reckless abandon, running in before quickly halting.

The scene before you was startling. Six heads of red hair, one on the ground not moving, one curled into someone’s lap, breathing heavily.

You nearly collapsed at the sight, your brain trying to parse out what you were seeing, but someone was quick to hold you up. Lucien’s dark chest blocked your view, and you quickly pushed at him, your feet carrying you until you saw Eris’s face downturned to the body in his arms.

“Eris.”

He didn’t act like he could hear you. He kept shushing his brother, holding him tight in his arms. The room was coated in grief, the smell of blood so pungent your head began spinning. You looked to Beron’s body, finding a gruesome scene of a decapitation, his head nowhere to be found. The room was quiet, not even the sound of feet shuffling in anticipation could be heard.

Marigold appeared from behind you, rushing as she moved to the male in Eris’s arms.

“Flint,” Marigold cooed. You couldn’t see her well, your knees had sunk to the floor behind Eris. You rested your head against his back, the armor so cold against your skin. You listened to Eris’s breaths, letting them calm the surge of emotion inside of you.

Alive, alive, alive.

“Come on, wake up. You have to tell her.”

Eris jostled beneath you, attempting to move his brother you were sure.

“I did it for you, Mother.” The voice was weak - Flint, most likely. He sounded so small, his heart aching with so much pain it made your throat close up. Big emotions coated the air in the room, forming a haze of grief, longing, and regret. So much regret. 

“I know, sweetheart.”

He coughed, his entire being so full of pain. You hated being around the dying. It was nearly impossible as an empath - the feelings of death were so powerful it was impossible to block them out. 

“It was all for you.”

He moved fully into Marigold’s lap now, but you remained fixed behind Eris. His armor began warming or perhaps it was getting accustomed to your temperature.

“I know, I know.”

You placed a hand on Eris’s back, rubbing softly as he gently cried into his brother’s head. Blood was pouring from his brother, covering Eris’s armor. Your fingers tangled in his hair, covered in dirt, sweat, and blood.

His eyes stayed on his brother, his chest moving slower and slower.

Lucien moved toward Beron, picking up the crown that had fallen from his head. It looked like an endless supply of berries and twigs, so enticing like you could pop one into your mouth. He moved toward Eris, his steps loud to ensure he was heard. He placed the crown on Eris’s head, reaching over you to do so. 

When Lucien pulled back, he gave you a pained smile. His own armor was covered in blood, but none of his movements looked painful. He looked so worn down, but the Autumn armor he adorned looked perfectly molded to him.

A true son of Autumn back even if for a short moment.

Flint stopped breathing in her grasp and once she knew he was gone, she began sobbing into his head. Your chest filled with emotions, nearly impossible to assign sources to. Every feeling spiderwebbed from your chest, pulling you to multiple fae at once, but you only focused on Eris, his breathing even save for the occasional shudders.

Marigold’s cries filled the room, none of the other brothers dry eyed. A song was being carried on the breeze, mixing with the Lady of Autumn’s cries to produce a haunting melody. As her cries softened, the song became louder. Your ears twitched in recognition, a tune that carried you off to sleep each night.

The song that tied your souls together was a duet and what played on the wind was Eris’s portion. It was deep and quick, a song that took many turns, carrying the listener on a journey. You looked toward Lucien, his raised eyebrows enough for you to know he heard it too.

It was a beautiful song. It sounded like when you were first mates - conversations that often led nowhere, the both of you too worried to be truthful. It sounded of midnight meetings, stolen glances, moments the two of you had tucked away so deep you weren’t sure where memory and dream bled together.

The song would carry you through your life. You had heard it through the worst moments imaginable. As your wings were cut through your body, the knife uncaring as it shredded through bone and skin. And it was one you would hear years from now, the song being carried on the wind, coming in through the open window the lull your babe to sleep. It was a bridge from the vastly different lives the two of you had led. 

The song would carry you everywhere you needed to go, the changing chords so familiar to you they would follow you in death. And yet every time you heard it, your heart filled with curiosity, wanting to know where the song would go next.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

[pjisskullourful]

┊ 𝙀𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙮 𝘿𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 ┊

🐦Ethan × reader

NSFW🔥 filthy smutathon

° Ethan Torchio/female reader insert

° making premature ejaculation work for you & your boyfriend

wordcount::: 6,326

° commissioned by dat boi jace(@punk-gremlin)💋 always a great time being on the same wavelength as you [requests are open but commissions get priority- there are 2 fics in cue, secure your own spot right here]

° [ITA:] principessa: princess - amore: love

It had been an incredible date, this was proving to be the norm in your relationship with Ethan. You didn’t think he was capable of taking you on a subpar date, even if he tried.

You were eight dates in, and he was still impressing you - taking you to places that you could brag about visiting and giving you nights full of sparks. He gave you butterflies each time he picked you up and none of your meals had been marred by awkward silences.

Tonight had seen you dining at a recently-opened seafood restaurant. Because it was so new, it was hard to get reservations, but his notable name got you into places without a fuss. Seafood was a favourite food that you shared, both of you intrigued by almost everything on the menu. This was more low-key than some of the other dates he had taken you on (axe throwing had been especially memorable). But that didn’t make it any less interesting. You had enjoyed getting to hear so many stories from his childhood trips to Costa Rica - a country you had never visited.

Everything had been so perfect. But by the time you arrived back to his place, you were pretty much done with keeping your hands to yourself. You were tired of (bordering on bored) being polite and acting according to society’s rules. This behaviour went against what you wanted. You wanted to get to the real main event of the night - him. All of the food had been delicious, but what was going to keep you buzzing into tomorrow was him and that amazing body.

Being back in his luxurious apartment had you inundated by memories of thrilling conclusions to other nights. They were recent and powerful, getting you to the point of practically salivating over experiencing more of that Heaven he could take you to.

Luckily for you, he was under no false pretences of why you were here. He didn’t waste your time pretending that you were here for a night cap or to see any souvenirs from Costa Rica.

You quickly found yourself in the master bedroom, your lipstick making a mess of his face and neck as he held your body close. Held up against the wall, you were kissing him with all of the enthusiasm that you had been keeping a lid on. Your hands had found their way into the open collar of his button-down, while his hands were pushing up the hem of your dress. You couldn’t recall who had started it, but you were immensely enjoying the steady grinding your bodies had set into.

You separated from his mouth, whimpering a little in response to the rising passion. “Mmn, I wanna fuck you.”

He paused, leaning back enough so that he could look you over with a furrowed brow. “Really, that’s what you want to do now that we're here?” You nodded, eagerly licking your lips. “I thought I was gonna turn the lights down so that we could share spooky stories.”

You laughed and gave his solid shoulder a shove. “Ethan…”

“What? I’m genuinely surprised that’s not what we came in here to do.” He said before dropping the farce. He showed you his more serious side, pinching your chin with his fingers to keep you looking at him. “I wanna fuck you too.”

You were smiling as he came in, initiating more kisses. But you didn’t let yourself get entirely carried away by this - not while you had an important point to make. “I mean that you don’t have to eat me out…”

This time he looked at you with sincere confusion. “But I like to- I love eating your pussy. Do you not like it? Did I go too hard or something last time? Because you can tell me to change anything at any time. I just really love making you feel good like that. I’ll do it any way you like-”

To silence him, you put one of your hands over his lipstick-smeared mouth. “It’s perfect, there is absolutely nothing wrong with how you eat pussy. I have no notes for your technique ‘cause there’s no part of it that I don’t enjoy. If there were such a thing- I’d give you an award for how great you are at it.

“But I just thought that for tonight, we could go straight into the fucking. You eat me out every single time. Maybe we could try things a bit differently tonight.” You said.

You weren’t prepared to see uncertainty on his face, but he nodded all the same. “Yeah, of course, we can try anything you like.” He briefly kissed you. “All that matters to me is that you come.”

“Well, are we gonna talk about it for the rest of the night, or are we gonna do it?” You asked.

He smiled as he lowered his centre of gravity slightly and relocated his hands to the backs of your thighs. He gripped you here, fingers digging into your skin as he lifted you off of the ground. You wrapped your arms securely around his neck as your heart began racing. Without a single second of trepidation or unsteadiness, he carried you over to this bed. You were invigorated by the ride, stealing a couple of kisses from him as he crossed the room.

You didn’t release your arms from around him, so when he lowered you to the bed, he was pulled down as well. You kissed him more as he laid down on top of you. You lifted your legs from the mattress and wrapped them around his waist, tensing them so as to keep him securely in place. After a whole night of holding back, you had a lot of time to make up for.

Your bodies fitting comfortably together, he started to grind on you again. You reached your hands into his loose hair as you enjoyed this friction. He buried his tongue into your mouth as his hands gripped your back, making you feel so wonderfully secure. Your cheeks rushed with heat as you noticed something below the waistband of his pants digging into you. You were still fully clothed, but the promise of nudity and more already had him erect. It was so flattering, just another testament of how into you this unbelievable man was.

A brief pause was taken so that you could each get undressed and he could grab a condom. He asked if there were any specific positions that you were craving. You didn’t care if it made you seem vanilla, you said missionary - ready to be obsessed with, knowing there was nothing more erotic than seeing him on top of you.

He turned down your offer of helping to apply the condom. So you just got comfortable on his bed, keeping your legs parted as you laid your head down on the pillow. As you took this opportunity to admire his body, you noticed him doing the same to you.

Then he began to get into position, filling the available area between your thighs. He braced himself with his hands on the pillow as he moved in closer than before. He appeared to be putting some concentration into this, his brow furrowed to go along with the serious expression he now wore.

Meanwhile you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that there was nowhere better than your current position. Your fingers played with his cascading hair, refusing to allow it to hide his handsome face at all. As you ran your fingers through the long locks, you found the singular plait that started at the nape of his neck and you wound the thin plait around your pointer finger. This was his ‘secret’ plait, not there for any particular reason. You had to be very close to even know of its existence - there was something so intimate about that, making you appreciate it more, giving it significance.

“Principessa.” He said, the pet name always made you feel precious. That was especially true now as he started to bury his dick into you.

You relished the feeling of your cunt stretching to accommodate him as he came in even closer - you were ready to feel him as close as possible. Your heart was consistently racing now, each time you were daunted by the size of him, needing an opportunity to settle in. But it did nothing to dampen your excitement and you could hardly wait to explore everything that took you from daunted to satisfied beyond belief.

That serious look remained on his face and you assumed he was worrying over hurting you. You took it upon yourself to show him how much you were enjoying yourself. You kept one hand playing with his hair, while you wrapped an arm around his shoulders, easing his chest closer to yours. You lifted your head, getting close enough to cover his mouth in enthusiastic kisses.

At first he couldn’t quite keep up with you, his breathing somewhat laboured between kisses. Then his mouth was responding more, it seemed that his focus was shifting and the two of you began to find a synergy. All the while, he was moving deeper into you and you expressed your appreciation by kissing him harder.

You chased greater proximity by wrapping one of your legs around his waist. You worked your hips, eagerly pumping yourself closer to him. As you further explored the fun to be had with your current range of movement, you swiped your tongue at his lips.

Instead of letting you into his mouth, he was breaking the kiss altogether. His head somewhat slumped, mostly falling out of your field of vision. For the moment you placed your concentration on mastering your movements.

On top of you, you could feel his uncontrolled shivering. He met each of your hip snaps with his own powerful yet unpredictable movements. These thrusts were accompanied by his heavy breathing, the occasional moan falling from his lips to denote his efforts. On either side of your head, his hands were curled into tight fists and you admired the way his muscular arms bulged as they framed you.

You felt him letting you take the lead and you sought for a maintainable pace. You gained almost all of his length into your cunt, enjoying this with your continuing rocking.

“Yes, Ethan.” You whimpered as his reckless movements invited new sensitivities into your body. “Give it to me.”

“Oh.” He gasped, following his hips slamming into yours.

Shakily, he rocked himself back again. But you were quickly thrusting yourself forward, your pussy greedy for more spellbinding stimulation. You pushed his hair back from one side of his face, instantly revealing the expression he wore, almost frowning, with deep lines all over his features. It was a look you had seen before, when the two of you had had a Netflix and Chill date, watching the documentary Our Father together. You hadn’t seen it mid-fuck before and you weren’t sure it suited the scenario.

You endeavoured to kiss it off of his face. You started on his cheek, kissing across his cheek, towards where his mouth was hanging open. He didn’t respond much, seemingly too caught up in the reactions he was gaining from your rutting.

You pushed your lips against his, but you couldn’t follow this up with anything more. He was soon turning his face away, it was only slightly, but you noticed it all the same.

You tried to not apply any meaning or emotions to it, just trying again. He dodged you again, a bit more noticeably this time around. His eyes were squeezed shut and with his face slightly turned from yours, it was almost like he was avoiding this connection with you. So much for not applying meaning to his actions…

“Ethan, is something wrong?” You asked, feeling a bit too vulnerable for your liking.

He paused, falling out of the pacing that you had been slowing. “Huh? No, I’m fine…”

You didn’t care for this answer, and he still wasn’t looking at you. “Are you sure? The vibe is kind of off.”

He stopped moving altogether, letting out a shaky sigh. “I’m just trying not to come.”

“What? Why? What are you talking about?” You asked, this abrupt change almost totally throwing you out of your mood.

He finally opened his eyes to look at you. “Do we really have to talk about this right now?”

“Yes.” You said, cupping his face in your hands. “I don’t want you to hold anything back from me, especially not while we’re fucking.”

He pulled out, rocking his weight back onto his knees to create some distance between you. “I have this thing where I always come super fast. Prematurely, some might say. And it’s really disappointing for the woman. I didn’t want that to happen ‘cause you’re not close, not even a bit. Am I right?”

You sat up. “Well, yeah but-...”

“I really like you and the last thing that I want is to let you down in any way.” He said and you were grateful when he let you hold his hand with yours. “I don’t wanna be a shit lay for you, I’m trying really hard not to be because you deserve the best. You deserve to not have someone come so fucking fast that it’s over before you really get to enjoy yourself. You deserve someone with the right amount of stamina to live up to your expectations. And I’m trying to be that-...”

You silenced him by crawling over to place yourself in his lap, instantly wrapping an arm around his shoulders. You put your hand to his cheek so you could direct him to look at you. “My only expectation is for us to have fun together. And if you having fun means you come quickly, then come quickly, amore.”

“You say that now, but it’s-”

“I say it ‘cause I mean it.” You said, leaning in closer so that he had no choice but to meet your eye - you had never seen him this insecure before. “Actually, it’s kinda hot. Some people have these strong poker faces when it comes to sex, it’s impossible to tell if they’re having a good time or not. But you’re so honest with how much you love it that you can’t even hold back, you can’t wait to come and hit that highest high.

“It’s sexy to know that I can drive you so wild like that.” You took the opportunity to press a soft kiss to his mouth. “Will you let me drive you wild?”

“Are you sure it’s not a turn off?” He asked.

You changed how you were sitting on him, moving so that you could straddle him and push more of your body against his. “The opposite. I think it would be physically impossible for you to do anything that could turn me off.” You were pleased when he let you kiss him some more, finally beginning to kiss you back. “Can I show you how much it turns me on?”

“If you’re sure about-...”

You cut him off and with your hands on his shoulders, you began to push him down. “No more expectations. Get out of your head and just be here with me, Ethan.” You got him down on his back. “Come when you wanna and let’s have fun with each other’s bodies.”

You didn’t think he looked entirely convinced, your words wouldn’t be enough to dismantle his insecurities at once - especially because this seemed like more than just a passing anxiety.

But he didn’t have any further arguments against your points, and this was good news to you. The good news continued when, upon laying your body on top of his, you discovered that his erection hadn’t gone away. You wrapped your hand around it, pleased to find he was still in an aroused state, similar to you.

As you kissed him, you started to stroke your hand up-and-down his shaft. He kissed you back, helping you release the worry that he might not be into this. Now you could put your concentration on feeling his body’s reactions, which were so exciting that you were soon finding yourself firmly in the mood again.

He didn’t ask you to slow down, instead he was holding you tighter as he kept up with your kisses. You braced yourself with your knees on the mattress as you repositioned your hips. You kept stroking him as you directed his head towards your awaiting pussy.

You felt him suck in a quick breath when you started to bury his cock inside of your cunt. There was that moment of being daunted again, but nothing was going to deter you. You let the greediness inspire you.

“Oh…” He moaned as he broke away from the kiss.

Your clenching walls were taking in more of his length and you could hear him thoroughly losing his breath again. You kept easing yourself down, wanting to get back to what both of you had been enjoying earlier.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You said, waiting for that moment when you felt his body relax.

There were a few soft kisses shared. But the majority of your focus went to discovering how your bodies could move together in this new position. He let you take the lead again and your eager grinding on him developed into bucking. You worked your hips, so happy to give into the rush of desires.

You were still so worked up (the sensitivities in your pussy had hardly faded away during that little discussion/intermission), each collision invigorating you more and you didn’t hesitate to increase your speed. You found a consistent pace to stroke yourself up-and-down his erection, gaining more thrilling stimulations for yourself as he writhed beneath you. Your cunt stretched accordingly, letting you pursue everything that could come from these quick movements.

With his hair splayed out on the bed around his head, you could enjoy an uninterrupted view of his face. He held his eyes shut and although some frown lines were still visible, his expression wasn’t as extreme as before. He had lost some of his seriousness as he resisted far less.

“It’s okay, amore.” You said as you felt more of his body responding.

His hands took on the appearance of claws, his fingers digging into you as he held you so tight. You could feel the need in him, especially in his enthusiastic responses to your bucking. And it made you want to give him more.

His hips jutted up into you, not always matching your timing. But you didn’t allow this to throw you off of your momentum because it felt so promising. You tensed your thighs against his hips and gave him back the energy that he showed you.

As you mercilessly pushed one another up to that edge, there were moments of synchronisation. These impacted you much deeper, noises falling from your lips as you felt these true threats to your composure. But they were few and far between. With his thrusting so unpredictable, you couldn’t capture them for yourself, leaving you unable to unlock that greater pleasure.

He left all control behind, whimpering through his constant, yet inconsistent movements. Until, with one final snap of his hips, he captured the peak for himself, quickly disappearing over the edge.

You couldn’t enjoy watching what the orgasm did to him. Because he was swiftly taking his hands off of you so that he could cover his face with them. He groaned into his hands as he fell back to the mattress, his body slumping.

You stilled yourself, letting this moment be all about him as you stroked his chest. “It’s-”

“You weren’t even close, were you?” He asked, interrupting you.

“It doesn’t matter to-”

“All my ex-girlfriends hated it. I didn’t want to embarrass myself like this in front of you.” He said and his disappointment was clear.

You put your fingers around his wrist but he wasn’t going to let his hands be taken from his face so easily. “Ethan, why are you embarrassed? I like it, this is what I wanted. I’m really into it. I’m so happy that you came for me, can’t you be happy too? I mean, it did feel good, didn’t it?”

He lowered his hand, looking at you with one eye. “Of course it did. I wouldn’t have come if your pussy didn’t feel so amazing.” You smiled at that, wanting to hear more - not just for the benefits to your ego, but because he was sounding less miserable now that you were on this topic. “You left me with no choice. Especially with you on top like that- fucking spectacular.”

“Spectacular?” You repeated.

“Yeah, I would say that’s the correct way to sum it up.” He said.

“Good, I wanna make you feel spectacular.” You said. “You really have no idea how hot it is that you want me so bad you can’t hold off.”

He took his other hand off of his face so that he could stroke your arm. “Well you’re fucking sexy.”

“So are you, Ethan. So are you.” You said, leaning in and kissing him a few times. “And it has nothing to do with expectations or stamina, or any other shit. You just are and you turn me on so much, so stop wasting my time being embarrassed.

“You must be very sensitive.” You said of his dick, still nestled inside of you. “Do you want me to get off?”

“No. I mean, yes, but no.” He said. “Yes, I am sensitive, really sensitive. But no, you don’t need to move off. Obviously you can if that’s what you want. But don’t worry about me when you’re making your decision. If this is how you want to come, then by all means, stay put.”

“It kind of sounds like you’re encouraging me to use your body.” You said.

“Oh, absolutely, I am.” He said, nodding his head.

You grinned as you began to sit up, rocking your body weight down towards your pelvis. “I’ll use you, I’ll use you to make me feel so fucking spectacular.”

“Amazing, that’s exactly what I want.”

You gained your balance and slid yourself further down his shaft. He was done with hiding his face, now his eyes were wide and watching every single thing that you did. You loved his attention, you didn’t shy away from it, too elated for shame. You could see the admiration in his eyes and it was so clear that he was out of his negative headspace, able to enjoy himself now. That made you swell up with pride.

You started to ride him. “I’m gonna use you so hard.”

“Yes.” His voice was quieter now and he put his hands to your hips.

You grinned, you were truly bordering on cocky now. “I’m gonna treat you like one of my toys.”

He bit into his bottom lip, but this did nothing to contain the moan he was making. Watching his eyelids flutter, your face lit up. A blush began coming into his cheeks - this one was meant to be celebrated.

“You like that idea, huh?” You said and he nodded, still appearing slightly bashful. “I like it too.” You put more power into your next swing forward, getting ready to abandon all restraint. “Come on, be a good toy and make me come.”

“Yes.” He said with another moan as you kept moving. “Yes, that’s all I want.”

You were confident in your movements, locking into the need that was so present. You could feel yourself elevating from the tingles that had been populating your body while he captured his orgasm. They had felt good, but you knew there was more you could claim, prompting you to drive yourself harder into him.

You were ready to work yourself to the explosions that would overshadow the tingles altogether. You didn’t struggle to find the right momentum and you put all of your effort towards rutting into him, as quickly as you needed. You were no longer daunted, settling into the ideal speed.

You felt him writhing beneath you, leaving his embarrassment behind as he grinded to meet your persistent pounding. Upon viewing his body from this new perspective, you couldn’t help thinking that you had found a sight more erotic than being beneath him. The power that you felt went directly to your head, wanting to intoxicate you. As you watched his every reaction (they were getting bigger, less restrained), it made you hunger to uncover what else you could draw out of him. How would he feel when you controlled him more?

“Can I rub that clit?” He asked through his laboured breathing.

“Yes.” You answered at once. “Hell yes, baby.”

He propped himself up with his elbows and his gaze went down to your cunt. He reached a hand out, coming at you with his index finger extended. He pushed this between your labia majora, getting at where your clit was already swollen from the surge of blood into this concentrated area. He rubbed the tight bundle of nerves lightly, moving his finger gently up-and-down.

“I miss how it tastes.” He said, playing his finger in a swirl around the hood, before taking it away.

His eyes moved back to your face as he placed the finger into his mouth. You maintained eye contact, fascinated by the way he licked this moisture off of his digit. There was something so seductive in how he was looking at you, letting you enjoy the connection that had been lacking earlier.

Your chest expanded, so full of anticipation, when he returned his finger to your clit. He worked it over with more pressure, maintaining contact and giving you something you could truly sink into.

The intensity was immediate, reaching deeper than his touch. It radiated out, shudders that went straight to your core, where the greatest pleasure could be unlocked.

With the tension increasing inside of you, your walls gripped to him tighter. Your hips gave an excited, unexpected stutter forward. Instead of trying to get back to your momentum, you embraced this new, quicker rhythm. You pummelled into him, giving yourself no time for recovery as the excitement bubbled up, more with each circle his finger completed.

“I- ah, ah…” He gasped, leaning back again. “I think I’m gonna come ah-again…” His hips moved to their own desperate rhythm. “Yep, I’m gonna-gonna, I’m gonna...”

“Yes, yes, do it for me, Ethan.” You said.

He gave a loud whimper to greet his next climax, then fell back entirely. His eyes were shut but no attempts were made to cover his face and you watched how he reacted, the expression on his face relaxing. There weren’t any of the earlier hints of worry, this was clearly a state of bliss.

Even though it appeared that he was tired, ready to just concentrate on his afterglow - he didn’t stop rubbing your clit. This kept you feeling those shudders and it made you unwilling to stop. You eagerly continued working yourself on his dick, still gaining the benefits of this unrelenting tempo.

You were soon in a frenzy, your whole body lit up with powerful stimulations. Your hips snapped endlessly forward and each collision let you feel those shudders harder.

You chased as they became cracks in your composure. Then they were bursting you open, incredible explosions gripping your body. You threw your head back, vocalising your triumph as you got lost in the lust.

You were joyful in your release and you stayed at this height. Beyond your control, and with limited coordination, you continued to move. You were still jackhammering your hips because this momentum was too rewarding to abandon yet, even as the fatigue wanted to creep in.

He came back into your awareness by springing up and wrapping his arms around your body. He was still moving as well, invested in his own pacing. You could feel the reckless nature of his bucking, sacrificing getting his breath back for this rhythm. You wrapped your arms around him, knowing you weren’t in the right state to give him much more - matching him was truly beyond your current capabilities.

“Oh, God…” He moaned, his hot face pressed into your neck. “Oh God, guh-ung. I’m- I’m… ah!”

He almost threw you off with his next energetic spasm, but there was nothing after that. The two of you fell into inactivity, clinging to one another through this quiet.

“Did you… again?” You asked.

“Yeah.” He said with a little chuckle. “When does the amount of orgasms get ridiculous?”

“I don’t think there’s a strict rule on that.” You said, running your fingers through his hair. “I asked you not to hold back, and- I guess you’re really enjoying this pussy, eh?”

He leaned back so he could look up at you. “So, so, so, so much.”

You stroked the hair away from his sweaty face, admiring the look he wore. “Maybe I should stay where I am?” His instant response was to tighten his arms around you. “I was thinking about how crazy sensitive you must be, so it seems like the right thing to do- to climb off and give you a chance at recovering.”

He persistently shook his head. “Uh-uh, I don’t want you to move off. I wanna keep you right here, if you’ll let me.”

“Wow, you like this pussy a lot, huh? It’s like you can’t get enough of it.” You said, the flattery glittering in your veins.

“Not yet.” He said and you noticed that he had gently started to thrust again. It was so subtle that you could have missed it, absolutely nothing like his earlier vigour. But the intention was definitely there - he was still so hard inside of you.

“How can you still be so needy?” You asked.

He leaned in closer, lining his mouth up with yours. “You just feel so, so good.”

You smiled after he kissed you. “You need this pussy, don’t you?”

He nodded and you hoped the obedience in his gaze would remain for a while because you weren’t done enjoying it and the way it made your heart flutter.

“Yes, I do.” He answered in a quiet voice.

You kissed him and his pumps were getting to be more persistent. Your hot body rubbed on his, all of these tantalising sensations were the perfect chaser to your orgasm. It wasn’t about pushing yourself to match him, it was about letting him work out the rest of this energy.

Chest-to-chest, you remained sitting on top of him. Your thighs squeezed at his hips as he bucked up into you.

“Do you think you’ve got another one in you?” You asked.

His building pace didn’t falter. “Let’s find out.”

With his eyes shut, he totally missed the way you were staring at him. You couldn’t help it, you loved everything about how he looked right now. It was an infatuation deeper than anything you had experienced before as you felt privileged to behold him in this state. He continued to hold nothing back - something important had been conquered here tonight.

You shifted on top of him as you felt some of his impacts shaking your core. It wasn’t consistent, but it was very enticing each time it happened. It had you starting to lose your breath before you initiated the next kiss. As he took the lead with these movements, he let you take the lead with kissing and soon your tongue was in his mouth.

This endless give and take between your bodies was intoxicating, you understood why he wanted to indulge in it some more.

You felt yourself clenching up again, whimpering against his mouth a little. With more energy coming back to you, you began to think about the possibility of coming with him. You were taken with the idea at once and your hand curled into a fist around his hair as you picked up your own tempo. You didn’t know if a moment so perfect was likely to happen, but you chased it with hungry pumps.

As your lungs burned for air, your mouth left his so that you could just rest your head against his. You let all of your effort go down to your throbbing pussy, which probably wasn’t going to be getting a break soon. You did your best to meet his wild jackhammering.

“Oh, oh, oh…” He let out a choked sob.

Your other hand went into his hair as well, needing something to grip as you found yourself riding that edge again. You wound that thin plait around your finger, unable to resist the urge to tug on his hair a little.

“Ah, ah… here I- yes, fuck, fuck.” He panted, writhing up into you one final time.

Almost immediately after this he was pulling away. You realised that your chance for another climax was gone, but you accepted this as okay, you still had plenty of wonderful sensations swarming your system - the next best thing to an orgasm. There would be opportunities to match him orgasm-for-orgasm in the future. Right now you didn’t want to push him further into exhaustion for something that might not happen, so you lived vicariously through his release.

It hadn’t been enough to just pull out, he had taken it upon himself to reposition entirely. Gasps and other incoherent sounds narrated his every movement. He got himself turned around and to where he could lay his head down on the pillow.

“Oh, I think- I overdid it.” He said. “Holy shit, my cock is too sensitive to be alive right now. Shit… I have never come that many times at once before.”

“Really?” You asked as you eased yourself up closer to him, not wanting to make him feel crowded straight away.

His eyes drifted over to you, but they weren’t entirely focused. “Yeah, four fucking times, that’s crazy.”

You couldn’t help but stroke the inside of his thigh. “This pussy is the only one that can make you come so fucking much, eh? See, we can still have fun. You just have to be open to new experiences.”

His eyes looked a little glassy as he watched you lay down next to his body. “I can’t believe how cool and okay and adaptive you’re being about all of this.”

“Well start believing it, baby.” You said, caressing across his forehead. “I’m not going to let anything keep me from enjoying you as much as possible. I meant every word that I said, Ethan- this is hot as Hell to me.”

“You’re amazing.” He said.

You gave his chest a playful poke. “No, you are amazing. And there’s not a single thing about yourself that you should feel embarrassment over.” You treasured the look on his face, knowing that your words were having an actual impact on him. “So, is that why your technique is always to start with cunnilingus? You wanna get me all worked up and happy, and then I’m so excited about my orgasm that I don’t notice how quote-unquote early yours is?”

“Kinda. But I do genuinely love doing it, and seeing how it’s been working for us has made me wanna keep doing it.” He said.

“Relax, it’s not mandatory. We can have sex any which way, we can experiment with anything you want.” You said. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to do things a certain way. You don’t have to do anything extra ‘cause you just being you is amazing enough for me.”

He smiled. “You’re being so sweet and romantic and making me feel so good by saying all of the right things. But I- I actually have nothing to say back. I hope that doesn’t make it sound like I don’t care, ‘cause I do. It’s just- literally all I can think about is that my brain is as drained as my balls.” You couldn’t help but giggle at that. “Is that bad, does that kill the mood? I just really, super overdid it.”

“It’s okay, I promise. I wasn’t saying those things to prompt you into saying anything back, I just wanted you to hear them, you deserve to hear them.” You said. You gave him a kiss on the forehead before you sat up. “You also deserve some water, which I’m gonna go get for you, my little cum-drunk angel.”

You didn’t require his guidance to find your way around the apartment. You fetched a glass and began filling it with chilled water. You weren’t lamenting the way that orgasm had slipped beyond your grasp at seemingly the last second. You were too busy celebrating all the good things that had happened, leading to this strictly positive resolution.

As you walked back to the bedroom, your mind did start to wander. You were thinking about other things you could try out sexually, now that he was willing to break out of his rigidity. What else could you do to pull him even further out of his shell? Surely there was something you could do that would lead him to more moments of feeling obedient - because this was a side you were truly excited to explore.

You didn’t get the chance to share any of these thoughts with him. Upon arriving back to the bedroom, you found him asleep. He didn’t rouse, not even as you sat down on the mattress beside him. You drank the water, feeling perfectly content as you admired him, caressing his smooth forehead from time-to-time.

“If we keep this up, maybe I’ll fuck all of those insecurities out of you.” You said and you leaned down, kissing him on the  cheek. His head turned slightly in your direction, but his eyes remained shut. You laid down, wrapping your arms snugly around him as you soon joined him in slumber.

»»————-　♡　————-««  

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[justagalwhowrites]

Proof of Life

You and Joel find solace in each other in the QZ.

Pairing: Darkish!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut! Rough sex. Reader has skin that visibly reddens and bruises. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only.

Length: 2.6k

Joel liked the way you bruised for him. 

It was a thought that should bother him, he knew. That he liked how your skin darkened where he touched you, the marks violent and lasting. Proof of life. Proof that you were alive enough that you could bleed beneath your skin, proof that he existed enough to do damage to something. It was the only time he really thought he was alive anymore, when he was inside you. When he was hurting you. 

“More,” you panted, nails digging into his thighs so hard he thought you must be drawing blood. But that was fine. He liked that, too. 

He pulled out of you, his cock slick with you, and your body - just taut and strained - went limp, an almost pouty look on your face. He grabbed your chin roughly, callused fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your cheeks and your eyes met his. Daring him. Pushing him. 

“Think I won’t give you what you want?” He was breathless, too, putting his face right by yours. But not to kiss you. You never kissed, not really, never did anything with your mouths that didn’t involve teeth. He took your lower lip in his mouth and pulled, biting down until the coppery taste of your blood fell on his tongue. He swallowed it, the essence of you pulled into him. He liked that, too. “What you need?” 

Your skin was reddening under his grip, spots that he knew would be dark in the morning. Maybe violent purple or black, the beginnings of the bruise pushing him on, making him desperate. 

Or maybe rabid was a better term. He was an animal with you, not really able to occupy the realm of human men now. He was other. Most often, he was hollow, just a ghost moving through the world. You, at least, awakened something inside him. Proved there was something there to wake up at all. 

He released your jaw, moving quickly to flip you onto your front before sharply grabbing your hips - the yellowing bruises from his thumbs the last time he had you somehow making him harder - and slamming into your dripping slit. You gasped and arched into it, Joel bottoming out in you and grinding hard against the back of you. It hurt. He knew it did. He could tell by the way your body shuddered, the instinct to pull back that you had to correct, the brief recoil before you pressed your ass back against him and he held your hips, his fingers over the bruises from before, watching them redden as he fucked you hard, rough, forcing the air from you with every thrust. 

It had always been this way with you, even the first time. 

Joel had met you on the way to Boston, run into you on the road with Tommy about five days walk from the city. He recognized you immediately. 

Not that he knew you. He’d never seen you before in his life. You were from somewhere near D.C. if he had to hazard a guess - you’d never told him in the years you’d been fucking - and were bloody and dirty and holding an axe in your grip like it was a lifeline. 

But he recognized you. The eyes of another dead thing, someone who had lived through the great horror of some utter hell, something that didn’t destroy you, not really, it did something far worse. It made you into something you didn’t know and couldn’t understand, even from within. Who you were before wasn’t destroyed so much as fled, a refugee from the space you now occupied. There was no rubble, no signs left that you’d been there at all. Instead, there was nothing. 

Joel recognized you in that way. Knew that you saw yourself looking back through him, too. 

The three of you made it to the QZ together and you gave Joel and Tommy a stiff nod after you were processed and left without a word. 

He was almost surprised to see you again, months later, getting drunk at the speakeasy. It seemed like you wouldn’t still be here, that maybe you were something that hadn’t really existed at all. 

But when Tommy left Joel alone to go flirt with a pretty girl he spotted from across the bar, you came over, shitty whiskey in hand. 

“Miller,” you said, climbing on the stool next to him. He grunted in response. “You look particularly miserable.” 

“Don’t think anyone here’s exactly happy,” he said, taking a sip of liquor. 

You laughed once, darkly. 

“They are,” you said, nodding to people talking and laughing and swaying to the music from the old jukebox in the corner. 

“Fuckin’ idiots,” Joel muttered. 

“Lucky idiots,” you countered, lighting a cigarette. 

“Those things kill you, you know,” Joel said wryly. 

“Counting on it,” you replied, taking a long drag before holding it out to him. He took it and took a pull himself. You smiled a little. “I’m too much of a chicken shit to use a gun. Hoping something else will get me sooner rather than later. These are my insurance policy.” 

Joel nodded slowly, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before exhaling. He gave the cigarette back. 

“Can’t say I blame you,” he said. 

“Figured you’d get it,” you replied. “Birds of a feather, all that.” 

“Least you know you’re a chicken shit,” he said, taking a drink. “I was stupid enough to try it and fail.” 

He wasn’t entirely sure why he told you. He’d never told anyone else. Maybe because he knew you’d understand it. It didn’t feel like a shameful secret with you, it felt more like talking about a tornado he’d seen once, standing and watching the destruction knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

“Seems like that’s less being a chicken shit and more being a shit aim,” you said, a teasing edge to your voice, taking another drag before holding the cigarette out again. He took it. 

“Aim was fine,” he said. “Flinched.” 

“Ah,” you nodded knowingly. “Then welcome to the club of those who wish they were dead but are too afraid to do anything real about it. Membership fee isn’t bad. We have jackets.” 

He laughed a little and gave you the cigarette back again. 

“Doing anything later?” You asked. 

“Nothing worth doing,” he replied. 

“Think I’m worth doing?” 

He looked over at you, at those flat, dead eyes. 

You would be pretty, he thought, if he was capable of really feeling that. About his age, he was pretty sure, with lips he’d have wanted to kiss once upon a time, tits he’d have wanted to hold. 

He hadn’t been laid in a while. He could use a fuck. 

“Think so.” 

You nodded and finished the cigarette, stamping it out on the table top before downing the rest of your drink. You dropped the still smoking butt into your cup. 

“Your place or mine?” 

The two of you went to his apartment and you pulled your shirt over your head as soon as the door to his room was shut, casting it aside. His eyes ranged over you, the scars on your skin, your nipples pebbled and hard. Your gaze held his - closer to alive than he’d ever seen you - and you stepped out of your boots before pulling down your pants and underwear, bearing yourself to him like some kind of offering. He got undressed, too, watching as your fingers twitched, like you were resisting the urge to touch yourself. You got on the bed and let your knees fall open and he crawled between them, a finger tracing delicately over your slit as he leaned in to kiss you. 

But you pulled back, frowning, brows drawn low. 

“What are you doing?” You asked. 

“Thought we were fucking,” he said, confused. 

“Right,” you said. “I want you to fuck me, Joel. Hard. I want you to make it fucking hurt. You think I’m here for some gentle lay? That I’d seek you out if that’s what I was after? No, no, you’re dead like me and I need something that can hurt like me. So hurt me, Joel.” 

He was hesitant at first. He’d never done something like this. Not that he’d ever felt like he was the love making type - never fucked someone he was in love with enough to find out - but he liked to leave his women satisfied and well fucked, not beaten and bloody. 

But something in him he didn’t even know was still there awoke at that thought, the thought of giving someone something they needed. The thought of doing something that he could see and feel unlike everything else in this Godforsaken place. Didn’t matter how many bodies he burned, there were always more waiting. Always more to trudge through, more to try to survive when he didn’t even want to do that. 

This was different. You were different. 

He spread your legs wider and lined himself up with your entrance, acutely aware of his size and strength for the first time in years. How easy it would be for him to break you, to hurt you beyond the hurt you were asking for. He was, suddenly, brutally substantial and corporeal. 

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, taking your waist in his hands and digging harshly into the softness there. 

You laughed darkly. 

“Sure, Joel.” 

He still remembered the look on your face when he fucked into you, hard and fast, for the first time, forcing your walls apart, the rough grip of your cunt around him. You weren’t wet enough to take him properly yet, he knew it had to hurt. The kind of hurt you’d asked him for. But there was life in your eyes as you gasped, your back arching. You were alive, buried deep somewhere inside yourself, and Joel was forcing that life to the surface of you. He had that power. The power to force you to feel.

You’d never asked him for mercy, never asked him for a break or even to slow down, not once in the years the two of you had been doing this. You took what he gave you into yourself, took all his hate and his rage and his numbness until there was nothing left but you and the small hurts he peppered over your skin. 

Joel wrapped his fist around your hair and pulled, yanking your head back with a surprised little yelp. His other hand went to your back, forcing you into a deeper arch so his cock was slamming into your cervix. You liked it when he made you hurt inside, too. He found it in the strange satisfaction on your face when you moved the next morning after he fucked you again, the new bruises darkening on your skin as you got dressed, the involuntary wince when you walked the first few steps setting off a perverse sense of pride in him. 

He’d given you what you needed and you were the proof of it. Proof he was alive enough to break someone if he wanted to. 

“Fuck,” you panted, your pussy tightening around him. “More, Joel, fuck, please…” 

“More?” He managed, voice strained. “You want more?” 

“Please,” you sounded on the verge of tears but your pussy got tighter. “Need it, need it so much.” 

He yanked on your hair again, pulling your body to be sitting up, your back pressed flush against his front. One of his hands roughly grabbed a fistful of tit flesh and squeezed until your soft breast wouldn’t give anymore. The other flew to your throat, gripping the column of it tight, your head dropping back to his shoulder. He bit at your jaw as you whimpered and moaned, his hold on you getting tighter as he fucked up into you. 

“This what you needed?” He panted, desperate, his orgasm close. “What you wanted?” 

You struggled to nod and he pushed, sharp and hard and deep, into you as he felt you start to come around him and go limp. He came apart then, too, spilling against the spot he bruised inside you again and again. He loosened his hold on you as his orgasm eased and he felt you take a shaky, gasping breath against him before he lowered you to the bed and collapsed beside you. 

He watched as you came back into yourself, breaths easing, the hollow look coming back into your eyes. The ghost in his bed. But the beginnings of the bruises remained, the marks of him over your hips and breasts and waist and neck and legs and face. You’d be black and blue by morning. 

You sat up and Joel frowned as you started getting dressed. You always stayed after, always slept next to him so he could fuck you again in the morning, pressing his fingers back into the places on you that had gone from red to purple in the night. 

“Where you goin’?” He sat up on his elbows, watching you. 

“I’m leaving in the morning,” you said, looking down at your shirt as you buttoned it. 

“What?” He sat up all the way now, his stomach clenched tight. “What do you mean you’re leaving, where the fuck are you gonna go?” 

You shrugged. 

“Somewhere else,” you said. “Somewhere that isn’t here.” 

“Why?” He asked. “There someone you’re lookin’ for out there or…” 

“Joel,” you smiled a little at him and it actually reached your eyes, just a hint of the life he’d fucked to the surface left in them. “You don’t ask about what killed me, I don’t ask about what killed you. That’s the deal.” 

“The deal is we fuck each other to get by,” he snapped. “The deal ain’t you goin’ off on some goddamn suicide mission for…” 

“I’m not looking for anyone,” you said, voice oddly gentle. “I’m just looking for something better than here. There has to be something out there. This can’t be it, feeling this… I can’t live where I’m only alive in your bed anymore, I need more than that. I need to find something that will keep me alive or something that will kill me and I don’t really care which. Just need to find it.” 

The irony wasn’t lost on him. That you leaving to feel alive was making him feel more alive than he had in years. The fear was sharp and gripping, its hold desperate and aching. 

“I’ll come with you,” he began but you cut him off, tugging on your shoes. 

“No, you won’t,” you said, coming around to his side of the bed and sitting beside him. “I don’t know what killed you, Joel, I just know that it was something terrible. But I know you’re not as dead as me, not really. I’ve seen it. You can find shit to live for and you should. Live for Tommy for now. Find the other things later. It’s still inside you somewhere. That’s why you flinched. Don’t give up on it.” 

You kissed him then. A real, actual kiss, your hand on his face, your lips soft on his. There was nothing fierce or stinging to it, all soft and earnest tenderness. You smiled at him, almost sadly, when you pulled away and went for the door. 

“Take care of yourself, Joel.”

You left him there, staring at the void you’d left, with nothing but the memory of you and his bruises on your skin.  

A/N: My first (maybe only!) foray into a darker Joel. He gave me brain rot this weekend so I'm glad he's on the page. I hope you like it and thank you for reading! Love you!!

[scarletqueenx]

chapter seven - dark magic

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Dean and you had dated for a few months before his father disappeared and his journey with Sam began. Now, having made a deal to save his brother's life and with only a year to live, Dean considers reconnecting with the only girl he's ever had feelings for. You.

Author’s Note: English is not my first language. This is my first time writing in the readers perspective, as i'm used to write oc´s.

series masterlist

Looking into the book and the knife Maddie had given you was much more difficult with the Winchester brothers constantly at your side. Yes, in some motels you got separate adjoining rooms, which gave you more leeway, but most of the time you were never completely alone.

For the moment, all you had managed to do was confirm that the book was indeed a spell book. All written by a witch named Ophelia, whose name was written on the back cover. But the knife was a complete mystery. None of the symbols written on its blade made any sense to you. Although its balance and weight were perfect for hunting and for fiddling with while doing research.

Talking to Bobby was out of the question. Your father even more so, as you were convinced he was hiding things from you. And Dean and Sam. Well, you had come to the conclusion that they could help you, especially Sam, but after hearing Dean's thoughts about witches while working on your current case, you decided it would be best not to bring it up.

"I hate witches." Dean had said. "They're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere."

You couldn't help but frown, remembering how you brother had hinted that your mother may have been a witch. And if that was true, either she was a very different one from the ones Dean knew or Dean didn't know what a witch really looked like.

"It's creepy, you know, it's down right unsanitary." He continued.

"Yeah, well someone definitely had it out for Janet Dutton." Sam commented, mentioning the victim, who had died after all her teeth fell out of her mouth due to a hex bag.

"Yeah, someone who snuck into that house and planted the bag. So, what are we thinking, we're uh, looking for some old craggy Blair bitch in the woods?" Dean asked.

"No, it could be anyone. Neighbor, coworker, man, woman—that's the problem, Dean, they're human, they're like everyone else."

"Okay, so how do we find them?"

"This wasn't random; someone in Janet Dutton's life had an ugly axe to grind. We find the motive-"

"We find the murderer." Dean completed his brothers words. Sam nodded.

"Yeah."

Dean nodded slightly, his gaze traveling to you, who had been quiet ever since you'd gone to the victim's house to question the husband. You were sitting on the room's couch, lost in thought as you fiddled with your necklace.

"Are you gonna say something?" He asked. You looked up, watching him in confusion. "Witches."

"Oh. Yeah, right." You nodded nervously. "Uh... I think you guys should handle this case. I'm not feeling very well." You admitted in a lie. This was your perfect opportunity to be alone. "I'll do research if you need me to."

"Are you sure? Do you feel all right?" Sam asked with concern in his voice.

"Oh, yeah, nothing serious." You assured. "You know, menstrual cramps."

"Okay, I didn't need to know that information." Dean complained, looking away.

"It's natural, Dean. No need for that reaction."

"Yeah, no... I know." He replied quickly. "Do... Do you need anything?" He asked hesitantly, to which you couldn't help but smile as Sam let out a small amused chuckle.

"Chocolate would be nice." You admitted. "Thanks, Dean."

"Yeah, whatever." He sighed leaving the motel room.

You and Sam couldn't help but smile and shared an amused look.

"You sure you're okay?" Sam asked as he grabbed his jacket.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You nodded. "Go keep an eye on Janet's husband. If someone wanted to get back at her for something, they might want to hurt him too."

"Yeah, that's possible." He admitted thoughtfully. "Good idea."

"Anytime." You smiled before watching him leave.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

You weren't worried about Sam and Dean, you knew they could deal with it on their own. But you still couldn't help but feel a sense of distress. It had appeared at the very instant you had stepped into that city. As if something was waiting or lurking for you. That provoked an uneasiness in you and it was quite noticeable by how you paced back and forth across the room as you read that spell book in an attempt of finding something that looked familiar to you.

The room was in complete silence, only filled by your footsteps and your breathing. So when your phone rang, you almost jolted. With your heart pounding in your chest, you quickly ran to the bedside table where you had left it and answered it without checking who it was.

"Hello?" You said, clearing you throat at the sound of your tired voice.

"Hey, sweetheart." Your father answered on the other end of the line.

"Dad, what's wrong? Everything okay? Why haven't you gone back home yet?" You asked with concern, since your father had stopped answering your calls and messages for weeks. Even after Christmas.

"I'm going to see Carter."

"What? Why?"

"I can't explain it yet, I'm sorry. I just wanted you to know that I'm okay."

"Great, I'm glad." You replied sarcastically. "I'm fine too, thank you very much for asking. Oh, and the son you left home alone is also perfectly fine. I can see you're really worried about him."

"I..."

"Leave it. I don't want to hear it."

"No, listen... You must be careful..." His voice cut out as the radio on the bedside table suddenly began to play.

"Dad?" Your frowned, looking down at your phone to check if the call was still on. "Dad?"

"Listen..." Henry's voice sounded for a moment before it was cut once again as the song on the radio changed. You quickly recognized it as I Put a Spell on You by Screamin' Jay Hawkins which only made your confusion grow.

What your didn't know was that the same song was also being played on the car radio of Paul Dutton, Janet's husband and the next victim of the witch who had killed her. Fortunately for him Sam and Dean were able to save him as they had been following him.

Alarmed by what had happened and after trying to call your father again, you decided to prepare the room so that nothing supernatural could enter it. Lines of salt, a bottle of holy water in your hand and your gun. You cursed Dean for taking the Colt, although it made sense considering he was in the middle of a hunt.

Just as you finished getting everything ready a message from Dean came through on your phone, asking how you were doing and informing you that he and Sam were on their way to the supposed witch's house. You sighed with relief as you saw his message, a faint smile peeking over your lips at his concern for you. A smile that only grew when Dean added that he had bought the chocolate you had asked for and would bring it to you as soon as they were done.

But again, another noise brought you out of your thoughts and caused your smile to fade. This time it wasn't the radio, which had stopped playing once the song was over. This time it had been two knocks on the motel room door.

"I know you're in there." A woman's voice was heard from the other side of the door. A voice completely unfamiliar to you. "I don't want to do this the hard way, so why don't you come out so we can talk? I promise I come in peace. I just want to chat."

"Who are you?" You asked, pointing your gun at the door.

The mysterious woman left out a sigh before answering. "My name is written in that book you have hidden under the bed and whose location you lied to your brother about. Poor Carter really tried to look for it in that mental institution. He didn't think you were smart enough to lie to him and take it away. Or so stupid. I still can't make up my mind what you are. Although if you listen to me and leave the room maybe you'll clear up that doubt for me."

You looked down for a second at Dean's bed, right where you had hidden the book.

Hesitantly, you decided to open the door and leave the room. Leaning against the wall, a beautiful woman with brown hair and brown eyes was waiting for you. She was dressed completely in black and her face had a smile on it.

"So smart is it." The woman commented as you appeared before her. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Ophelia." She stretched out her hand towards you.

"You are the witch who wrote the book." You assumed, ignoring her hand.

"Was." Ophelia corrected. "There is nothing left of the woman I used to be. Not anymore." She explained, showing her dark black eyes which revealed her as a demon. "Relax, I'm not here to hurt you." Ophelia spoke again as she watched you pull out a small bottle from your jacket pocket. A bottle that contained enough holy water to harm her while you locked and protected yourself back in the room.

"I don't like demons, so you'd better talk fast." You threatened, tightening your grip on the bottle, ready to throw it at her.

"Yeah, I know. I'm aware of what happened." Ophelia admitted. "I'm really sorry. But I'm not like them. I'm not like the rest of the demons."

"Why is that? Because before you went to hell you were a witch?" You raised your eyebrows.

"Yes. And no." She answered. "You see, hon, I knew your ancestor. The reason you're in this world is because of me. I'm the one who gave her a potion so she could get pregnant. I am the reason your family is still in this world. And the reason you and your brothers are special."

"What are you talking about?" You frowned.

"Though of course, it was bound to happen. So maybe you're not that special after all. Another woman could have been the one to ask for my help. But it was your ancestor, so here we are." Ophelia sighed.

"Would you care to explain?"

"I don't have time for this. I just want my book."

"Sure you do. You know where it is. Come on in." You stepped aside, leaving the entrance to the room completely clear for her. Ophelia smiled.

"I know there's a demon trap drawn over there. I'm not going in."

"Then you won't get the book." You shrugged.

"You don't want that book, believe me. It will only lead you to want to awaken your powers and that's a lousy idea. You'll put a target on your head, just like your brother did. And your mother before him."

"So it's true, my mother was a witch?" You asked making her sigh.

"When I made the potion so that Melinda could have kids, I used some special ingredients. And when we were burned for witchcraft, I anchored my power to that book and her daughter Sarah." Ophelia explained. "Magic has run through the veins of your maternal family until the birth of Carter, the first son in generations. A prophet wrote that when two boys and a girl were born to this family, the power would be uncontrollable."

"That's why a demon killed my mother and then wanted to kill Peter?"

"With your mother dead there would be no more sons. And as macabre as it sounds, Peter was just a baby. His death would hurt less."

"Sounds like you decided that." You pointed in confusion.

"If one of the males dies your bond with me will die and the magic will disappear. That's what I and all the demons want." Ophelia declared, crossing her arms.

"And the book?"

"It's dangerous if other witches find it."

"I'll make sure it doesn't happen." You assured, going back into the room, but Ophelia grabbed you arm before you could do so.

"I have come in peace. I wouldn't want to have to take it from you the hard way."

"From what you've explained to me, you've already done that once."

"I didn't kill your mother."

"Maybe not, but it was you who sent the demon, wasn't it? You ordered him to kill her."

"No. He killed her because she broke a deal. I told him to kill Peter to break the bond and bring me the book. He did neither. He's useless."

"You also killed Maddie's mother, didn't you?" You assumed without paying much attention to her words.

"I knew she had the book. But she hid it very well and I still don't know how."

You were about to speak but the sound of the Impala's engine caught both your and Ophelia's attention.

"I'll be back." The woman assured. "And when I do, I'll leave with the book." She then released your arm and disappeared into the darkness of the night before Dean and Sam could get out of the car at a much faster speed than usual.

The eldest of the brothers was the first to reach you, his hands gripping your shoulders and his eyes watching your with concern as he searched for any injuries. "Are you all right? Who was that woman?"

"I... She..."

"She's gone." Sam spoke as he reached them after trying to follow Ophelia. His breathing accelerated due to his running.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

After the three of you walked back into the room, you ran to lock yourself in the bathroom without saying a word. Dean insisted that you tell him what had happened, but it was clear to him that you were too shaken to do so.

Sam watched as his brother paced back and forth nervously, running a hand through his hair as he gave quick glances at the bathroom door.

"Do you think it was a witch?" His question broke the silence.

"No. It was a demon." Dean assured. "She lied to us about Salem. And all this... Her traveling with us, it all started because of the demon that kidnapped her. She's hiding something."

"Hiding what?" Sam frowned.

"I don't know, Sam." Dean answered.

"So what do you think? That girl was the demon that kidnapped her back there in San Francisco?"

"I don't know. It could have possessed someone else. But... There's something else. She said she could have stolen the Colt and the car and taken off. But if it was a random demon, she wouldn't be so eager to kill it, would she?"

"An exorcism would be enough." Sam admitted.

"Yeah, and she certainly knows how to do one. Why would she want the Colt?"

Sam remained silent, not knowing what to say. His head spinning with possible explanations.

You still weren't able to process the things Ophelia had told you. She was one of the reasons for all your suffering. She was the cause of much of the pain your family had been exposed to. And your wanted her dead. But you remembered the fear in your father's voice on the call earlier. He had told you to be careful. You knew Ophelia wanted the book and would do anything to get it back. So now there was just one person in your mind. Peter.

"I'm leaving." You declared as you came out of the bathroom. Your voice caught both Winchester brothers' attention, who still hadn't quite processed you words.

"What? No." Dean answered.

"This was a mistake. I should never have left home with you in the first place. I have to go back home."

"No, what you have to do is tell us what the hell is going on." He corrected as he watched you go through her things. He called your name numerous times, but you continued to ignore him. "Talk to us." Dean walked towards you, holding your arms to force you to look him in the eye. "Talk to me." His voice came out pleading. You could see the desperation reflected in his eyes.

You looked at him with hesitation. If you told them the truth, the whole truth, they might reject you because your mother was a witch. Dean had said it himself, he hated witches. And if there was a chance that you were one too, who knew what they would do. You couldn't do it. You couldn't tell them the truth. Right?

Just then the radio started playing once again, the same song as before. But it couldn't be Ophelia causing it, she couldn't have come back yet. It was clear she had left because she was afraid the Winchesters might use the Colt against her. But then again, had it been you who had caused the radio to turn itself on? Had your magic already awakened and you were unable to control it?

"What the hell?" Dean frowned, looking at the radio.

"Isn't that the song that was playing in Paul's car?" Sam asked in confusion. His question brought you out of your thoughts. Your eyes darting quickly away from Dean to travel to Sam.

"What?" You asks, puzzled.

"The song. It's the one that was playing when Paul was attacked." He explained.

"I thought..."

"What?" Dean turned to you. But then the impala's lights began to flicker, attracting his attention. Quickly, Dean released your arms and opened the room's door, finding a woman standing next to his car.

You and Sam were soon on Dean's side, their eyes also on the woman.

"Ruby." Sam murmured as he recognized her. You frowned in confusion.

"Sam, listen to me, there's no time." Ruby spoke looking only at him.

"For what? What are you talking about?" Sam frowned.

"You have to get out of town."

"So this is Ruby, huh?" Dean asked, pulling out the Colt, raising it and aiming it at her. "Never had the pleasure."

"Dean!" Sam warned him.

"I was hoping you'd show up again." Dean watched the blonde-haired woman, ignoring his brother as you remained completely confused by the situation.

"Point that thing somewhere else." She warned him.

"Hahahaha! Right."

"Sam, please. Go. Get in the car and don't look back." Ruby insisted, looking back at the young Winchester.

"Why? I don't understand."

"Hey, hot stuff, we can take care of a few kitchen witches, thanks." Dean said. You looked up at him with a knot of fear in your chest.

"I'm not talking about witches, you jackass. Witches are whores. I'm talking about who they serve." Ruby answered.

Dean and Sam shared a confused look for a second, but you seemed to understand her words pretty quickly.

"Demons." You whispered, but they were able to hear you, their eyes quickly falling on you. "They get their power from demons." You looked up at Ruby.

"Yeah. And there's one here, now."

"Yeah, no shit." You replied with a scoff. "Oh, what, you mean besides you?"

"Sam, it knows you're in town and it's gonna come after you and its way more than you can handle." Ruby insisted, ignoring your and Dean.

"Oh come on, what is this, huh? Please tell me you're not listening to this crap!" Dean looked back to his brother.

"Put a leash on your brother, Sam, if you wanna keep him."

"Try touching him, see how that goes for you." You quickly warned her, clutching the handle of the knife you kept hidden behind your back, attached to your belt. Dean couldn't help but give you a quick glance, surprised at your protectiveness towards him.

"Guys, look, just chill out." Sam asked them.

"No! No!" Dean exclaimed. "She's messing with your head, God knows why, that's who they are!"

"I'm telling you the truth." Ruby assured.

"And I'm telling you to shut up, bitch."

"I'm sorry, why are you even a part of this conversation?!"

"Oh, I don't know maybe because he's my brother, you black-eyed skank!"

"Oh, right, right. You care about your brother so much. That's why you're checking out in a few months, leaving him all alone?"

"Shut up."

"At least let me try and save him, since you won't be here to do it any more."

"I said shut up!"

Dean moved to fire the Colt at Ruby, but Sam pushed his arm away from her as he fired the gun. You staggered as Dean hit your shoulder as he fought against Sam's hold and when you turned your eyes back to Ruby, she was already gone.

"Two demons in one day. Great. That's a new record for me." You commented as you walked back into the room, going back to gather your things.

Dean sighed, giving his brother a disappointed look before following you.

"You're not leaving." He declared.

"I'm a grown-up, Dean. I can make my own decisions. Thank you for your concern." You answered making him roll his eyes.

"I know you don't want to leave."

"That doesn't matter." You assured, turning back to him. "You heard that demon Ruby, there's another one around and I'm pretty sure she wasn't talking about the one who came to visit me." You declared, reaching down to pull the book out from under the bed. Dean frowned as he didn't recognize the cover of it. Reading wasn't his biggest hobby, but he'd noticed the books you and his brother had brought from your family home, and that wasn't one of them. "I have reason to think Peter may be in danger. He's my little brother, Dean, I know you understand that."

"I do. But we can help you." Dean insisted.

You shook your head. "No, you can't. I have to do this alone. I'm sorry."

"At least tell me what's going on. Who was that woman?"

"A demon."

"Yeah, I've got that much, thank you." He scoffed.

You sighed before answering. "She killed my mother. Well, not her personally, but she's one of the reasons she's dead."

Dean frowned at your explanation before sharing a look with his brother. You looked at them in confusion, your attention turned to Sam when he uttered your name.

"This question might seem strange to you, but... how old were you and Peter when it happened?"

You gave him a puzzled look, not quite sure if he was joking. But his serious look assured you that he was completely serious about the question.

"I was ten years old. Peter was just born. I think he was barely six months old." You answered. "Why?"

"Our mother was also killed by a demon when I was just six months old." Sam explained. "Our father spent his life looking for the demon to kill him. Dean shot him with the Colt less than a year ago."

Your eyes traveled to the eldest.

"That wasn't the same demon that killed my mother." You assured them.

"How do you know?" Dean asked. "Was there a fire in your house that night?"

You shook your head with a humorless smile.

"This demon was the one who kidnapped me back in San Francisco. He's still alive." You answered. "I wish it was the one you killed, Dean, everything would be so much easier."

Dean's green eyes watched you closely, catching the pain reflected in them and the tears you fought to hold back. He recognized your pain, it was the same pain he had felt since his mother's death. A pain that had been with him ever since.

"Listen to me." Dean walked towards you, placing his hands on your shoulders. "We finish this case and go back to your house. I promise."

You wanted to accept his offer, you really did. But something in her knew Peter was not safe, an almost maternal instinct. Besides, if you got away from the Winchester brothers, Ophelia wouldn't hurt them when she came back for the book.

"I'm so sorry, Dean." You said sincerely. "I'm not trying to repay the pain I felt when you left. This isn't about you. I wish I could stay, but it's all too complicated. I really hope I get to see you again before..."

You couldn't finish the sentence. The thought of Dean dying and the possibility of never seeing him again was too painful for you. So you just wrapped him in a hug, laying your head on his shoulder. Dean's arms were quick to return the embrace, his head resting on yours as he closed his eyes. Both of you enjoying the intimacy of the moment between you two. It hurt, it hurt a lot, more that you would had thought.

The hug lasted a few seconds, but it felt quite short to both of you. After you pulled apart, you were barely able to look him in the eyes. So you simply gathered your things and said goodbye to Sam with another quick hug.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Leaving without explanation was one of the things you hated most. That's why it had hurt you so much when Dean had done it to you, because you didn't understand how someone could do something like that. You never thought you would. Yes, technically you had said goodbye to them, but you hadn't been entirely honest. And a part of you felt that if you never saw them again, you would always regret that.

Now, sitting in that bus station, you tried to forget about both Winchesters as you reached out to your father and little brother.

As you expected, Henry did not answer any of your three calls. And unlike him, Peter did, almost immediately.

Relief washed over you when you heard your little brother's voice on the other end of the line. You could almost see his face. Just by hearing him you knew he had a smile painted on his lips.

"Hi, buddy. You know what? I'm coming home." You announced with a smile. However, Peter's unexpected reaction formed a frown on your face.

"What? Why? That idiot didn't leave you again, did he? I swear to God..."

"Peter." You cut him off. "It's not because of Dean. I miss you and Dad..."

"Dad can go to hell with him." Peter said. "He won't even answer my calls."

"Peter, don't say that..."

"Why?" He interrupted her. "He hasn't come home yet. He didn't even send a gift. He always sends me a present at Christmas. I'm fine with Maddie, you can stay with the Winchesters idiots."

"Maddie should be free to go. I'm your sister, I should be there." You declared, but Peter didn't answered you this time and soon after you heard a strange bang through the call. "Peter?" When no one answered, you began to feel really worried. You breathing hitching and heart racing. "Peter?"

Maddie's voice came through the phone seconds later.

"Maddie? What's going on?" You asked.

"There's someone in the house." That was all the she could say before she dropped the phone and ran away. The call then ended, leaving you completely panicked and powerless.

"Are you gonna give me the book now?" A familiar voice spoke next to you, making you jolt. You quickly grasped the handle of the knife on your belt, ready to attack. "You don't have the Colt, so don't bother. You can't kill me." Ophelia assured, settling onto the bench next to you. 

You turned to her with a serious expression and without any hint of fear in your eyes. Ophelia smiled. "Now, we are gonna go to your house in San Francisco and when we get there, you will hand over the book or Peter dies." The demon declared. "Got it?"

You couldn't help but clench your jaw in frustration. You wanted to kill her right there and then. Even in front of all those people at the bus station, you didn't care about anything at that moment, just your little brother. But you also knew you couldn't do anything to her. Nothing would work on a demon, not permanently, and that would only lead to Peter and Maddie ending up dead.

"Got it." Freya answered then, trying to remain calm.

"Great." She smiled.

Keep Reading: Chapter Eight

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @lmhf1 @mochminnie @helo1281917 @barnes70stark @slyregg

If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment

[dullgecko]

I realise I’ve been sending you a bunch of fig centric ones so have another that includes all the bad kids

Riz will eat anything and I mean anything like he’s eaten vegetables that were like 70% mould before and didn’t notice anything wrong. At worst he ate a rocks in a bet with Fabian and didn’t even have any adverse effects.

Gorgug can eat most things meat based as long as there not to out of date but when he ate raw chicken in front of the bad kids for the first time it gave all the bad kids a scare apart from Riz who thought it was completely normal.

Pre archdevil fig could eat more than the normal human but not by a huge amount but loved spicy things and you could not find a spice on the mortal plane that she could not tolerate.

Post archdevil is a different story all together now all mortal spices don’t even register as spicy and she has to start getting them from hell. Fig is altogether a good cook due to Sandra Lynn teaching her. So the first time she cooks with this new spices she literally nearly kills riz who’s nose is very sensitive to spices. she has since been banned from cooking spicy foods for other people as the stronger “hell spices” could knock out a normal human

Adaine and Fabian have mostly normal palettes but Fabian swears he can eat more spicy foods than fig and has had to have Kristen heal him on more than one occasion.

Kristen needs to be very careful when cooking because if she adds to much or corn a spiteful Helio will animate it. Though Helio also has issues if she puts not corn in her foods.

Riz and his mom both have mythril stomachs, and given how food-insecure they've been since his dad died he /hates/ wasting food. Goblins dont need to or even want to eat full meals every day but when they do they try to pack away as MUCH as possible. When he got really hungry as a kid he'd even dumpster dive outside their appartment because he didnt want to worry his mom by asking for more food and basically any food scraps he found in there were still good by goblin standards. Its also how he developed his crippling coffee habit, if he gets really hungry he's able to supress his appetite somewhat with it.

He can eat basically anything as long as its not poisonous, and has the jaw strength and tooth sharpness to grind down rocks into powder. Stale bread, bones, shells and even straight up wood don't stand a chance. He does have to be a little more careful about what plants he eats now though because he kept consuming things that he was allergic to and made his allergy reactions worse.

He's not eating random half-rotten or mouldy food as often now though because while at school he gets MOST of his meals from the caffeteria rather than at home because its free. He's less likely to injest something he shouldnt accidentally but just in case he does his whole party is primed and ready to dose him with his allergy meds if he starts developing hives.

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

Gorgug and Riz sometimes have hangouts at the Thistlespring tree where they spend the whole time wilding out a little and ripping into raw meat with their bare hands and teeth (meat provided by Wilma and Digby after Lydia had a word with them about Gorgugs eating habits). Its fun and it satisfies a primal part of their brains to just go nuts on a fresh chunk of animal flesh. When with the other kids they'll, begrudgingly, eat their chicken and fish properly cooked though just because it makes some of them gag.

The other bad kids have caught both of them, on more than one occasion, licking blood off their hands after a particularly brutal fight. Gorgug slightly less often than Riz because he's using an ax, but the goblin if disarmed or unable to swing his sword will resort to biting and clawing. Everyone but Gorgug was initialy grossed out (What the FUCK the ball spit it out you dont know where they've been) but they got used to it eventually. They've started to develop a ranking system, based on taste, of the various creatures Riz has chomped on.

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

Fig and Riz are spicy-food buddies, but ONLY if the spicyness itself is from chillis. Riz cant feel the heat from capsasium but he enjoys the taste, whereas Fig loves it for how hot it is so they'll often split some questionably edible mega-hot curries when they order takeaway. Fabian tried a bite once and was coughing and crying for hours afterwards (the second bite he took on a dare required healing afterwards).

Once she starts integrating more exotic spices into her meals is where the problem starts. Riz can finally TASTE the spicyness and he's of the opinion that she's insane if thats what she feels when she eats chilli. Fig accidentally tear-gassed him once by using a spice that, once she did some research, they worked out was a straight up goblin repellant. He walked into the kitchen as she took the lid off a pan full of chilli and immediatly had a coughing fit so bad they were worried they'd have to call an ambulance (he was fine after a while, he just had to sit outside on the lawn in the fresh air until his sinus stopped stinging and his eyes stopped watering... he may have also gotten Adaine to dump a full bottle of milk on his face).

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

Its a delicate balancing act for Kristen trying to make things without what she's cooking become sentient and hostile. Luckily it seems to only be isolated to things that get heated up, so she's safe making sandwiches and salads, but anything that requires the use of the oven or pans needs a quick dusting of cornflower to appease Helio or there are consequences.

[copperbadge]

Sam, how did you find your therapist and build such a good working relationship? Every attempt I’ve made at therapy seems to fizzle out after a few months… and no therapist has ever understood the RSD aspect of my ADHD, which makes it all feel a little worse every time I try.

I mean, I think really we're still building it -- I haven't had her more than a couple of months and functionally it's been an every-two-weeks situation most of the time because we keep having to move/cancel. I don't know that I can really speak intelligently to building a relationship with a therapist because this is the first time I've ever done it where I was an adult and in control. As for finding one...

Chicago has a group called Clarity Clinic, which is like a WeWork for mental health professionals -- they offer scheduling, billing, and IT/office space to local people who I think are mostly independent operators otherwise. They have a directory that is highly filterable, so I found my psychiatrist there by filtering to stuff like Adult ADHD and medication management. He's great, but he didn't want to be my therapist and I didn't want him to. When I decided on therapy, I asked him if he knew anyone he could recommend, since he knew what my deal was in terms of personality, behavior, etc.

So he gave me a couple of names of fellow Clarity Clinic folks and I had a look on the website and chose the one that sounded like she'd get on best with me. I think I struck it lucky to be honest -- she's young (compared to me) and has ADHD, and she's very familiar with disability discourse, spoon theory, etc, even fandom to an extent. If I were to go looking today I might look more at therapists who specialize in twice-exceptional individuals, but she's good enough with what I'm aiming at that I don't want to change.

So the best advice I have is if you're being treated for other stuff by someone you trust I'd ask them, but also look for someone experienced with adult ADHD, and I'd look for someone on the younger side who's more likely to be understanding of neurodivergent needs. (I also recommend filtering to queer-friendly therapists if you can; I didn't necessarily need that but it means they're likely to be generally accepting and probably have more liberal politics. With the caveat that in shady places like BetterHealth, "LGBTQIA" counselors are sometimes homophobic creeps with an axe to grind.)

Building the relationship has taken proactivity on my part -- ensuring that I always have an appointment on the books (we book out about six weeks in advance now, because we know one of us will likely need to cancel/rebook at times), making sure that I have either an aim for treatment or at least something to talk about, etc. I think in your case probably having a list of things you want to deal with, so that you can check some boxes up top, might help.

I would definitely open with "I have ADHD and I need help with [aspects of that]; I also have RSD and I need to work with someone who respects that diagnosis and understands how to help with it." I went into mine saying "I have ADHD and I'm also struggling with some really big emotion, so I'm looking for help with those, but also like...I'm not really sure what therapy can offer. I've had some bad experiences in the past but they were all when I was a child, so I'm trying to explore some options." Her reaction was a combination of sympathy and a discussion of the kinds of things we might work on, which helped a great deal.

But yeah, I think it starts with establishing right from the jump what you want and need, and then spending time making sure that you both stay on top of that until you find a rhythm. We're still finding our rhythm, but it's getting easier as I'm learning to be clearer about what I want and more comfortable with being a participant instead of someone therapy just happens to.

[minnophee-writes]

Safe and Sound - Part 1

Fandom: The Purge: Anarchy

Pairing: Leo Barnes x Fem! Reader

Series Warnings: Violence, gun violence, assault, non-consensual touching, death, character death, murder, breaking and entering, knives, blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of past abusive relationship, single mother trope, slight smut, dry humping / grinding, strangers to lovers, attempted kidnapping, smut, oral sex, p in v, size difference, taller man / smaller woman, attempted sexual assault, attempted assault, attempted murder, sharing a bed trope, strangers to lovers, kissing, Leo being a good father figure, Leo is sexually pent up, rough kissing & gentle kissing

Chapter Warnings: Violence, gun violence, assault, non-consensual touching, death, character death, murder, breaking and entering, knives, blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of past abusive relationship, single mother trope, slight smut, dry humping / grinding, attempted sexual assault, attempted assault, attempted murder, sharing a bed trope, Leo is sexually pent up

Summary: When you're trying to bunker down in your poorly barricaded house with your young 8-year-old son it doesn't go to plan. A gang of unruly criminals come breaking into your home and you're forced to take your son and flee down the street toward your brother's apartment. On your journey there you're corralled into an alleyway, certain of death, but then a lone saviour comes to your aid.

Word Count: 4,413 words (damn, one hell of a part 1 o-o)

A/N: I love the purge series so much and when I first saw Leo Barnes I knew my horny ass was doomed. I haven't seen many new fics of this man and I'd like to fix that. Street names and apartment / house addresses mentioned in this story are made up and fictional but I did mention 2 well known places in America due to where the Purge: Anarchy takes place in (roughly).

You huddled with your young son Justin in your bedroom when the siren blared on the TV and speakers outside. The annual Purge had begun and you were terrified. You had been struggling to juggle being a newly single mother and working 2 jobs to provide for your child. Your salary at both jobs weren't the best and so with the money you did save up you could only afford a cheap, scrap metal barricade security system for your house. You highly doubted it'll completely keep out the looters that come out during the purge but you hoped you'll be able to keep Justin safe.

With Justin cuddled into your left side, on the right side laid a large axe, a hand gun, and a hunting knife. You wanted to be prepared in protecting your son so you weren't going to shy away from using force if necessary. The Purge was a brutal bloodbath, every year seemed to get worse and worse with disgruntled employees seeking revenge on their employers, old exes murdering in a sick act of "love", and twisted people who just like to watch others suffer for entertainment. It scares you, scares Justin, and this year would be his 8th year experiencing the Purge.

Distant gun shots were fired and you felt Justin flinch, his head burrowing into your chest for comfort as your body tensed around him. You wished he never had to experience this. If you had stayed with your ex you would be protected, fortified by the highest security technology only the rich could buy - the only downside is that you'd be going back to the abuse. The name calling, the subtle insults, quick taps to the face that escalate to forceful slaps, and hiding bruises that would slowly litter your body.

You left when you finally had enough. The last straw for you was when Kyle dared to stump out a cigarette on Justin's arm when he was only 2 years old. That night you waited until Kyle fell into a drunken slumber before you packed your bags, strapped Justin to your chest, and snuck out the laundry door then out the side gate. You fled down the road to the gas station where a nice elderly couple gave you a ride from Beverly Hills to down town Los Angeles. You had secretly been stashing some of your ex's cash so that you could afford a roof over your head but you knew that the money wouldn't last long which is why you work 2 jobs just to have enough for rent, food and any other basic needs. It didn't help that you lived in down town L.A but your brother lived in the area and you wanted to be close to family since Kyle made sure that you had cut ties with your family before moving to Beverly Hills.

Your brother Daniel was the only one who knew what Kyle had done and did everything he could to help you get on your feet. Daniel helped you raise and look after Justin, babysitting when you had a late shift at the diner, and sparing money for you when you needed it. He lived about a block from you, giving you the invitation to crash at his place whenever you and Justin wanted. Daniel opened the offer earlier that day, before the Purge commenced, but you declined. You lied about having a good quality security system but you didn't want to worry him, you knew you could get through this and protect Justin but as the night dragged on you started to doubt yourself.

"Mommy, I'm scared." Justin murmured as he clung to your shirt.

"Shh - its okay, sweetie. Mama's here."

You stroked his hair to calm him a bit, humming the tune of 'Bleed to Love Her' by Fleetwood Mac to coax your son to sleep. You hoped most of the night might be slightly peaceful so Justin could rest, you were tired yourself but made the effort to stay awake and alert for anything.

As Justin slept beside you your eyelids grew heavy after hours of nothing. The occasional gun shots and screaming could be heard from afar but nothing to be worried about. With nothing to stimulate your brain it was hard to stay awake and the echoing lullaby of slumber was calling to you. Your head dipped forward only to jerk up again as you fought it but soon your mind finally succumbed to sleep.

~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~

A sudden crash woke you, you were a bit hazy from sleep but you were brought into the presence by the sound of glass crunching from within the house. Your pulse was racing as was your mind over what to do. You heard Justin's breath hitch and so you huddled him into your walk-in wardrobe before grasping your collection of weapons and hiding in the wardrobe. You hoped that it would possibly be one person deciding to rob your home, only one person to worry about - you could handle that.

A male voice rang out down the hallway and a second male voice responding, color drained from your face at the realization that there was more than one person - probably many more as more glass being smashed could be heard in the guest bathroom down the hall. Your mind raced with conjuring up a plan of escape, if you were lucky you could get Justin to crawl under your bed before quietly vaulting out the window into the front side garden while you kept watch.

"Okay sweetie, we're going to play a little game called 'Statues'." you grasped Justin's shoulders gently to grab his attention as you explained the plan. "We're gonna crawl to my bed and hide under it, once we get there we freeze like statues. When I say so we'll crawl toward the window and Mama will help you get out into the side yard, okay?"

"Yes, mommy." Justin nodded cautiously before laying on his belly.

At your signal you both inched to the bed while you glanced out your bedroom doorway to make sure none of the men had seen you or Justin. When you were under the safety of your bed you surveyed the hallway again, freezing and listening for movement from within the house. Rattling noises came from in the guest bedroom, porcelain shattering and rustling of cabinet drawers being opened aggressively. You nodded to Justin again to move toward the window while you trailed behind him with your stare aimed at the doorway.

Justin reached the windowsill and slowly tried to pry open the window. You assisted him once you crawled up behind him and prayed that it wouldn't creak as it widened but it seemed that whatever God was above wanted to spite you. The wooden frame stuttered loudly in the room, echoing down the hallway and all movement down there stopped abruptly. Your breath picked up as you shoved the window open and lifted Justin out and into the side garden in a panic, footsteps were approaching fast and so you tossed yourself out the window next to your son.

"We need to go - now!"

You grasped Justin's hand as you ran for the gate to get out to the road, the voices from in your home shouting at each other while a few stray bullets whizzed passed you. You picked up Justin and held him in your arms for protection, your legs carrying you as fast as possible - heading in the direction of your brother's apartment. Justin started hyperventilating in your ear from the shock of the sudden violence and narrow escape, his little mind racing to understand what was happening and where they were heading while your brain was rattling with the different thoughts of the fastest and safest way to reach Daniel's place.

You had passed a few other houses on the block when a loud explosion erupted from a couple of parked cars that sat down another street across the road, an armoured vehicle charged toward the T intersection before breaking hard in the middle of the road. You ran behind a tree on the block as a group of people hopped out of the small truck, large assault rifles at the ready and masks covered their faces. Some were cheering while others searched the area, you guessed for prey, to feed their sick idea of entertainment. You weren't sure if they'd kill on sight or capture you both to be tortured for pleasure and you didn't want to stick around to find out, you just wanted to take Justin to Daniel's and know he'll be safe when the sun rises in the morning.

Your body shook slightly from fear of being caught, you couldn't risk Justin being hurt - he was your little bundle of joy, your baby boy, and you weren't going to let anyone take him away from you.

Justin's sniffling and whines were getting loud and you tried to shush him, some of the masked men turned in your direction and alerted the others.

"Shh, baby, shh... we need to be quiet..." you whispered in desperation but a harsh yank of your hair shot to your scalp.

Rough hands grabbed you while ripping your son from your arms causing you to scream in distress. You thrashed in the men's arms to get closer to Justin when a blow to the left side of your face disorientated you enough for them to drag you to the middle of the street, more masked men surrounding you as another man held Justin in a tight grip. The stranger aimed a knife next to Justin's neck and your heart rate spiked in fear.

"No, please!" You begged, "I-I'll doing anything, please - just don't hurt my son!"

A man walked toward you and chuckled at you, finding your pleading to be amusing. He got down on one knee and leaned over you in a menacing manner which made you slightly shrink into yourself.

"'Anything', you say? Well I can think of a few things you could do to save your son." The man then suggestively groped his own crotch to imply his meaning.

A shiver shook through your body at the thought of doing anything sexual for these men and hoped you could convince them otherwise.

"My boss is the owner of the Drunken Duck bar, he has a safe in his office-"

"I don't care about his shit. I've got plans for you."

You were then shoved onto the asphalt, your back and side of your face pressed to the ground as you struggled to get the man off of you. Justin cried at the scene and your heart clenched at the thought of him witnessing something so horrific so you put more effort into fighting your attacker. The man had managed to jerk your pants and unzip his but you twisted your legs so that he couldn't remove your underwear which frustrated the masked man. He began to squeeze your legs to get you to release your hold but you screamed in defiance, swinging your small fists toward his face with all your might.

"Get off of me!"

"Shut up, slut."

The man gripped your throat harshly, choking you and making you lose focus. Your body flailed as you fought to get more air into your lungs, your legs kicking to get leverage, and your arms clung to his in an attempt to remove his hand from around your neck. Your vision was starting to fade but a distant roar of a car engine ricocheted through the streets, the man above you pausing his actions while his head swivelled to the right.

A black, armoured car darted from around the corner and swerved toward the group of men.

"Shit - open fire!" He boomed as the car rammed into a few of his men and into their own vehicles.

It was all a blur for you as oxygen entered your body, you rolled onto your stomach and surveyed where Justin was. He was laying on the ground a distance away from you and crying out for you.

"Justin! Mommy's coming, baby." You shouted.

You made your way over to him as bullets flew in all directions, your swollen eye made it hard to navigate but you pushed on as you got closer and closer to Justin. You got within a few inches from him when a swift kick to your stomach winded you and you were then shoved to the side, a heavy weight laid on top of you in the process.

"Mommy!"

The terror in your son's voice had your mind in a frenzy, you fought back against whoever was above you but you couldn't fight back against his hard-hitting blows to your face. Your consciousness was fading in and out, the bad seeming to spread across your body, and your strength dwindled with each punch. When the surrounding light growing faint the sudden pressure on top of you vanished - you could breath but you just laid there unable to move from exhaustion. Small arms wrapped around you and cold, wet droplets began to fall onto your exposed skin as Justin attempted to cuddle you but the shock coursing through his body was making it hard.

You cracked open your left eye, barely in better shape than your right, and gazed up at Justin, wheezes rattled your throat while you made an effort to move your arms to reassure your 8-year-old. You struggled to lift your upper body to sit up and fell back, Justin sobbing then exerted himself to lift you with his tiny strength.

"Hey, hey - stay awake, little momma." A calm male voice instructed, "I'm going to get you and your son out of here but I need you to trust me..."

Larger hands then touched your arms, your eyes shooting toward the culprit and seeing a slightly older man with messy dark hair, a sharp jawline covered in rough facial hair, as well as piercing brown eyes. Your mind went blank and you were suddenly aware of your dry mouth when no answer came out so you resorted to nodding your head cautiously. If you wanted your son to be safe and protected then you'll have to give some trust to this new stranger who seemed to have saved you from death.

"Good." he nodded then offered his hand." Leo Barnes at your service."

"Y-Y/N..." your voice croaked out painfully.

"Alright, Y/N just stay calm. I'm going to pick you up and carry you to my car - okay?"

You nodded again to save your voice and felt your body heating up at the strong, muscular arms that wrapped around you and lifted you with one arm tucked under your legs and the other supporting your back. You leaned your head against his upper chest hearing his heartbeat which started to lull you to sleep. Leo shook you slightly to keep you awake in case you have a concussion, Justin trailing behind the both of you to the car. Leo gently set you down on the passenger seat before helping Justin into the back seat and buckling you both in. The seatbelt pressed against a wound that you hadn't noticed before - guessing you must have been grazed by a bullet during the shoot-out, you fidgeted from the small, stinging pain as Leo got into the driver's seat and starting up the vehicle.

"M-my brother... lives on the corner... of Mcroyle street..."

"Just down here, yeah?" Leo pointed further down the street where a large apartment complex stood and you nodded.

Leo drove the few feet to your brother's place and helped you and Justin up the stairs to Daniel's apartment. As the three of you reached Daniel's floor Leo noticed that your brother's door was slightly ajar and he knew something was up.

"Wait..."

"What? Daniel's apartment is right there-"

"The lock is broken and the door is open." Leo stared at you for a moment before continuing, "Stay out here - I'll check it out and make sure it's clear."

You agreed and watched Leo creep into Daniel's apartment, the eerie silence made you anxious as no voices could be heard - not even from the other apartments which put you on edge further. Oncoming footsteps caught your attention and you saw Leo emerge from the apartment with a sorrowful expression. His face told you what you needed to know and the tears blurred your vision while they streamed heavily down your face, your hands covering your mouth to muffle the pitiful sobs from echoing the hallway you stood in. Justin watched on in confusion and distress - he was smart enough to understand something was wrong because of your visual state but wasn't aware of 'what'.

You hugged Justin for comfort as Leo strutted toward you both, giving you a few seconds to grieve before gently placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked up into his dark eyes with your teary ones.

"C'mon, it's not safe here. I have a secure place that you two can hide in until it's over." Offered Leo.

You swallowed while debating the option in your head but you knew it was your only option for Justin's sake.

"Okay..."

~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~

The car ride to Leo's secure hideout was quiet. Justin fell asleep in the backseat a few minutes ago, you were leaning against the passenger door looking at the passing scenery as Leo focused on the road. The humming from the car engine was the only sound even if it was muffled, the air around you and Leo was gloomy from the previous events.

Before leaving Daniel's apartment Leo had searched for some pants for you since your encounter with the masked man had ruined them, your jeans had been ripped and torn in many places so Leo had found you a pair of your brother's gym shorts. The car's air-conditioning was starting to freeze your exposed skin on your legs and arms, the cool air causing you to feel the slight throbbing pain of your many bruises and wounds but you tried to focus on anything else but the discomfort. Without warning a warm, large hand rested on your bare thigh which caused you to jump in your seat - Leo apologized swiftly removing his hand trying to explain himself.

"Sorry, you looked cold so I wanted to offer some heat..." Leo's voice trailed off, probably thinking about how idiotic his reasoning sounded but you just shook your head with a small smile.

"Thank you." you caressed the spot where his hand once was, "I'm a bit cold, now that you mention it."

He gradually placed his hand back on your thigh and rubbed it to warm it up occasionally switching legs after a few minutes one each one. His body heat helped a lot with keeping your legs warm, the touching and caressing was shooting to your crotch making it pulse with want. Your face slowly started to blush at the thought of a rough looking man like Leo would be petting you and making you feel certain emotions that you haven't in quite some time.

Your logical brain was turning into mush has your horny thoughts flashed through your mind with multiple different scenarios which had your pussy throbbing and dribbling in your underwear - a little thought mortified if Leo were to feel the wet spot if he moved his hand more to the inside of your thigh but that didn't stop your body from relaxing and slightly adjust your legs to spread a little wider. An unexpected squeeze to your thigh jerked you back to rational thinking and you clenched your things abruptly.

"Woah, didn't mean to startle you." Leo glanced over at you with slight concern.

"I-I'm okay... Just a little jumpy I guess."

Leo quickly glanced down for a brief moment before staring back at the road ahead of him, you looked down to see his hand trapped between your thighs near your drooling pussy which made your eyes widen in embarrassment. You were too scared to move your legs because your anxiety would then reason that it would bring attention to the touch and you'd lose the warm press of his hand close to where you needed it.

Before you could continue your internal struggle the car slowed to a stop outside of what looked like an abandoned house in an old part of the city where not many people lived and the house was concealed by foliage and a long gravel driveway. Leo got out of the car to then unbuckle Justin from his seat and carried him inside while you gradually made your way inside after them. You saw that Justin was sleeping in the only bedroom you could see - that Leo had placed him in, while you crept over to the old, beat-up couch to sit on, finally giving your sore body a rest. Leo sat beside you with a relieved expression as he groaned, his legs spread wide and slightly nudged into yours causing your heart to shutter and your body to heat up again.

"Sorry if the place is a bit small. The house only has one bedroom but you and...?" Leo trailed off in an implied question.

"Justin."

"You and Justin can share that room - I can take the couch."

"Oh no, no, no! You've saved my son and I, and brought us to a safe place. You deserve the bed after all you've done for us." You pleaded, feeling guilty.

Leo shook his head with a chuckle, he admired your caring nature but could visually see that you needed the rest. Dark, heavy bruising littered your face and exposed skin, blood dried on your skin and a few cuts looked irritated from being dirty so his first priority was to clean you up and care for your injuries.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

During the whole process you couldn't keep your thoughts innocent when it came to Leo. From his rippling muscles, his messy hair, the way he would touch you, praise you when you winced at the sting of the disinfectant; and even the way he would stand close so you could smell his scent of gun smoke, leather and an earthy, cedar aroma. It made you light-headed, you subconsciously leaned into Leo's touches and embrace - every so often you would drift off to sleep in his arms only to wake up when Leo would wipe an antibacterial wipe on one of your wounds.

You were so drained that you barely had any energy to exert to move out of the small bathroom which lead Leo to picking you up again and carrying you to the bedroom Justin was resting in. When Leo settled you on the bed he went to move out of the room when you tiredly grasped his wrist and wined.

"Please don't go, you're warm..." You slurred, your tired state making you a little delirious.

Leo glanced at the bed, sizing it up and mentally calculating if there'll be enough room for all three of them. He looked down at your hazy eyes, you looked adorable when you begged and he just couldn't resist disappointing you. He moved toward the bed so you shuffled over to the middle of the bed as Leo climbed in, his body heat already warming you up better than the blanket that you were tucked under. When you both settled again you were facing each other, your breaths fanning over your faces, and your eyes were locked in an intense stare.

"Comfortable?" Leo asked.

"Yes, just a bit chilly but better than before..."

"Okay, good."

Your body gave a short shiver from the cold air that caressed your shoulder that wasn't under the blanket, you moved to remedy the issue when a heavy object wrapped around your waist before you were tugged into a toasty body. You hummed in approval, snuggling into the warm surface when a chuckle vibrated through your body causing your eyes to shoot open and look up at Leo, his eyes were closed as if to mimic sleeping but his deep laughter told you he was still awake.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Leo..." You mumbled until sleep finally sunk it's claws in, dragging you into its embrace.

Leo could hear faint snores coming from you as he made sure to keep you warm and to make sure you and your son were protected. Your soft skin and smooth legs pressed into him causing him to exhale in distress when he could feel a certain body part getting a little too excited about the physical contact. Leo's arms strained from pulling you closer into him but his cock began to throb in need in his pants. He tried to resist but you fidgeted in your sleep, rubbing your lower stomach and crotch against him and his body would respond the same - his hips would angle forward to press against you while you slept.

You gasped in your sleep except you didn't wake up, your breathing began to be somewhat laboured and your hips thrusted toward Leo's to chase the subconscious sensation of his rough jeans against your stimulated clit that was puffy and sensitive. Both hips worked in tandem with each other, your breathing getting louder and Leo's body tensing from the rising orgasm but suddenly his rational mind screamed at him.

'What are you doing, you bloody idiot!?' After what she's just been through and you do that? He stopped immediately but the sound of your unconscious whine at the loss of stimulation had Leo shushing you and cuddling you further to make up for teasing you. Movement behind you also reminded him of your son sleeping at the other side of the bed, a fair distance from you both but guilt and irritation wracked his mind at his thoughtless decision yet he just couldn't let you go.

His eyelids finally grew heavy, a yawn made its way out of his mouth before he rested his head on top of your head, his face burrowed into your hair because the flowery scent of your hair products lulled him into sleep. The three of you sharing a bed, Leo's shotgun propped against his side of the bed next to his pillow, and you and Leo wrapped into each other's arms.

Unbeknown to you or Leo, your three man group would be rudely awoken by a malice gang looking to cause more chaos before the night is over...

[sweetbuckybarnes]

invisible string

Pairings: Colin Bridgerton + Penelope Featherington

Summary: Eloise couldn't believe her brother planned on marrying Penelope Featherington, especially when he doesn't know her true identity! So she demands Penelope tell him the truth.

*Season 3 Part 2 Speculation - Do Not Read If You Haven't Watched Part 1*

Main Masterlist | Albums Masterlist | folklore album

Green was the colour of the grass, where I used to read at Centennial Park… Teal was the colour of your shirt when you were sixteen at the yoghurt shop. 

When Colin was 18, he had gone out on a horseback ride with his sister, Daphne, it was a usual horse ride between two siblings until a somewhat frilly yellow bonnet hit him square in the face- causing him to suddenly lose control of his horse and fell into some mud which had formed from the torrential rain the day before.

There were two separate exclamations voiced. One was his sister, Daphne, as she got off her horse and made her way over to him. The other was a young lady wearing a yellow dress hurrying over, with a look of both terror and amusement.

“Colin! Are you alright?” Daphne asked.

“I am so sorry, sir!” The young woman exclaimed as Colin removed the yellow bonnet from his face, and as soon as he locked eyes with her yellow dress, he burst into side-splitting laughter.

Both young women looked at him like he had gone mad (although that is how Daphne would usually look at him).

Little did they know, that was the moment Colin Bridgerton met his future wife.

One Penelope Featherington.

Time, curious time. Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs, were there clues I didn’t see?  And isn’t it so pretty to think, all along there was some invisible string, tying you to me?

Colin had been to seventeen cities before returning home for the next social season. He had sent letter after letter to Penelope and hadn’t heard anything back in reply - so much so his hand turned from letters to diary entries (although do not be fooled, he still wrote her letters even without a reply).

Throughout those seventeen cities, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have Penelope by his side. He often thought this the previous two seasons whilst he was out on his travels. However, this past season just amplified his sudden feelings for Penelope Featherington.

Looking back on when he offered to help her find a husband, little did he know, he would eventually be her husband. 

What he didn't know was that his little sister, Eloise, caught Penelope as she was leaving Bridgerton House, giving her a deadline for Colin to learn her biggest secret.

Whistledown.

Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons, one single thread of gold tied me to you.

A week and a half before their engagement ball, Colin found Penelope in the garden at a ball somewhere in London.

"Pen, darling? Are you alright?" He asks her, gently cupping her elbow and gazing down at her with soft eyes.

Oh, how she is going to miss those eyes. When she tells him, she knows everything will come to a screeching halt and crumble apart like dust.

"Colin, there is something I need to tell you, but I can not tell you at this moment," she tells him, causing Colin's head to tilt like the puppy Penelope once had. "Can I meet you tonight, in my mama's garden?"

Colin blinks repeatedly at Penelope. "Of course, darling. What is the matter?"

Penelope looks out at the garden. "Just meet me there, I will explain everything. I promise."

Cold was the steel of my axe to grind, for the boys who broke my heart, now I send their babies presents.

Colin arrived at the Featherington's garden just before midnight, and found her sitting on the stone step he found her on at the beginning of the season (when he offered her help to find a husband).

"Pen? Are you alright?" He took a seat next to her, instantly reaching out to take her hand in his.

She let out a sigh. "I am, but I have a feeling you will not be. There is something I have been keeping from you."

Colin looked at her with his confused eyes. "What is it, my love?"

He watched her mouth move as she tried to come up with something to say to him. "It would be better if you read it... instead of me telling you..." she trails off, handing him a piece of paper. He saw Penelope's handwriting, something he had missed whilst he was on his travels. But that all stopped when he saw the first line, in his fiancée's handwriting. "Dearest gentle reader..."

Whistledown... was... Penelope?

"What is it, Pen?" He looked up at the woman he was set to marry and could see tears rolling down her face.

"It is me. I am Lady Whistledown."

Gold was the colour of the leaves, when I showed you around Centennial Park, hell was the journey, but it brought me heaven.

Eloise had followed Colin out of Bridgerton House, wondering where it was he was going - seeing if Penelope was going to tell him who she was.

"It is me. I am Lady Whistledown,"  she heard Penelope tell her brother.

The pair were silent, save for Penelope's sniffles, as Colin took in the words she said.

Eloise could make out her brother's face through the leaves of the willow tree. Two separate emotions were rolling over his face. She could tell the first was anger - she had seen it many times during their childhood, the other emotion she couldn't decipher. 

"So, you have been going all over London, in the middle of the night. Something could have happened to you, and no one would ever know?"

Eloise looked at her older brother in confusion, that is his main point from his fiancée telling him she is the Lady Whistledown, the most prolific gossip writer in all of London.

Penelope looked up at Colin. "Pardon? What do you mean, Colin?"

"Pen, there are far too many dangerous men walking around London at night. If something would have happened to you, we never would have..." he trails off. Eloise could see tears were starting to well up in his eyes.

"What about what I wrote about Marina?" Penelope asks, looking up at him.

Colin was silent for a moment. "You did try to tell me what your mama and Mar- Lady Crane was planning," he tells her. She nodded. "Did you try to stop Lady Crane?" She nodded again.

"I know you would have wanted to marry for love, but the way she was used to ..." Penelope sighed. "I could not just sit on the sidelines as she used you as a fake father to her baby."

"Twins. I visited her and Lord Crane at the beginning of last season, she had twins."

Penelope nodded. "I could not just watch as you raised a child one you believed to be your own, which."

Colin nodded, he could understand Penelope's motives (he knew if the roles had been reversed, he would have done the same thing - well, he would have married Penelope if she was pregnant, he would have helped her raise a child, even if it wasn't his). "Is this," he shook her Whistledown column. "The reason you fell out with Eloise?"

She nodded again. "Eloise found one in my bedroom at the end of the previous season. I would do anything to take back what I wrote, but I had no choice. I had to write what I did..."

"Why?"

"The Queen believed Eloise was Whistledown, I had to write something to throw her off Eloise."

"Something Whistledown would not write about herself."

Eloise stumbled back a little. Penelope was... protecting her? She had thrown harsh words and accusations at Penelope when she found that Whistledown edition. He watched as her older brother wrapped his fiancée into his arms and held her tightly to his chest. Penelope wasn't a vindictive woman, she did the best she could with the information she heard throughout the ton.

She saved Daphne from Lord Berbrooke. She saved Colin from a loveless marriage to the now Lady Crane. She saved Eloise from the wrath of the Queen of England.

She protected the Bridgertons by throwing herself and her family in front of a moving carriage.

And isn't it just so pretty to think, all along there was some, invisible string, tying you to me?

Before they knew it Colin and Penelope's wedding had arrived. Penelope was standing in her childhood bedroom, she could see the Bridgerton's outside Bridgerton House across the street. The first person she spotted was Colin, her fiancé. He seemed a little bit jittery as he kept looking over his shoulder to his family, and then up to her window - trying to spot her through the thin veil of her curtains.

Once all of the Bridgerton's had left Bridgettrton House, Penelope and her maid made their way down the staircase. "Mama, are you ready? It is time to go," Penelope called as she walked past the Featherington drawing room.

Just as Penelope was about to go outside and to the carriage, she heard a sniffle come from the drawing room. "Mama?"

Penelope walked over to where her mother was standing in the drawing room. Portia was holding one of Penelope's books, the one she had been missing when she was collecting her belongings for her move to Bloomsbury.

"Mama, whatever is the matter?" Penelope asked, watching tears roll down her mother's cheeks.

"You're getting married. I never thought this day would ever come," Portia says, not realising she took another jab at Penelope. This was the moment she swore if she and Colin ever have children of their own (considering how close they got during the carriage... and with the mirror... and Colin's desk in the townhouse in Bloomsbury (soon-to-be their marital home), they couldn't keep their hands off each other. "I hope you and Mr. Bridgerton will produce an heir to the Featherington estate."

[maleyanderecafe]

Hi, have you played Dot Kareshi III game? The "villager" is really sweet (and a yandere) I think

Phew man, I remember hearing about this game a long time ago back when finding yanderes was like finding a unicorn (now a days sometimes you just run into a unicorn in the middle of the street before it tries to impale you), but I never got to play it, even until now! And even then... well, I mean it really does remind me of when we weren't nearly as blessed with yanderes because... there's not really a lot of yandere content going on, at least in this third iteration.

Just going into the third game, I didn't really know what to expect and it does reference the first two games which I never played. Luckily, Cherry was there to fill me in. Basically the whole premise of Dot Kareshi is that the MC (that's you) have been grinding at this RPG game for years on end, to the point where you've basically ended up breaking the game, changing some of the character's personalities (like making the healer a sadist and the knight a masochist), oneshotting the demon lord so hard that he literally can't access his final form anymore and just basically making all of the main party super overpowered. The first two games are about the Heros in your game's party as well as side characters, while the last game is about the villains (well, mostly villians), which include, a slime enemy that turned human, the demon lord which you oneshotted a while ago thus reducing him into a weaker version, the dark knight who you ignored his side quest and shoved in a wagon so now his sister is dead and unavenged, and of course, the villager who is the stock normal NPC that you have seen throughout your journey. The story starts generally with the game starting on new game plus, and the four love interests getting a wish from a god ala golden axe story (except instead of an axe, it's a bug, like a game bug) and summoning you into their world. After which you go to the villager's house to rest, choose a route you'd like to pursue, eventually go to the demon lord's castle to party and get drunk, talk to a main, go into the hot springs with the villager and attempt to summon yourself back home. The bad ending is always the same with you stuck in the world and continuing to explore the world party, the normal ending your love interest prevents you from returning and you live life with them in the game and the good ending where you drag them into your world and force them to get a job or taxes and falling in love.

Anyways, since we'll be talking about the villager's route, I'll just summarize his. After choosing his route, the villager will end up asking everyone to help out in the village, but strangely enough, there's nobody around. During this time he pairs himself up with you, happy that the two of you can finally be together. He ends up creating a sort of pocket dimension he brings you, hoping to trap the two of you in there together. We see that he actually has the memories of all of the NPC characters in the game that we meet in previous Dot Kareshi games, but was unable to talk to them as he could only say pre programmed lines. He pretty much laments being an NPC as he basically doesn't have a role in the game and could never speak to her directly. However, because he doesn't have a role, he can basically become any role in the game and chooses to be powerful (basically the mentality of like if you are nothing, then you are everything or if nothing matters then everything matters) and gains godlike powers. The other characters come in to try to rescue you but after you accept his feelings, the portal ends and the everyone is brought back to normal. As it turns out because he was finally able to confess his feelings to you, the wish that the god gave him from the beginning was fulfilled and everything is fine now. The rest of the game plays out as above.

In his good ending, he is brought into the real world and more or less decides to become a house husband, cooking, cleaning and doing laundry for you. His plan is to make you rely on him so much that you won't be able to live without him. Then the two of you get ice cream.

In his normal ending, he ends up dragging you back to stay in this world, basically becoming a villager along side him as the two of you work together to gather food.

Like I said, this game is pretty short and it is very comedy focused. Slime and Villager serve mostly as straight men while the Dark Knight and the Demon Lord are usually doing chuuni things (though as most comedy it can be reversed). When it comes to comedy it pretty much nails it as it makes fun of a lot of tropes in RPG games and in general is a pretty fun time, in terms of that. But that being said I think I was expecting more from this game considering how much I saw it back when yanderes were much more rare. I guess I was expecting the Villager to have more (?) yandere moments than we actually got, and while yes, he is a yandere, he doesn't really have any yandere moments outside of his route. Most of the time he just plays straight man and doesn't even get jealous or have a hint of jealousy when other guys get near you, and even in his route he pretty much only uses his god powers once before he never uses it again. His yandere moments pretty much only appear for the brief time he brings you into his portal and again when he goes back into your world. It's there, but again, very short and non consequential. If I had the lens of this being a fun short game, I would probably have liked Villager's route more, but because of the expectation of it having more yandere than it already had, I feel let down about what little there was already. Still cute, just, not a lot going on. I don't think it helps that a lot of Rejet games tend to focus on more darker elements, so that was another thing that skewed my expectations.

Overall, not a bad short game. I wouldn't really say that the yandere in this one is a lot, but it is in there. Good for a small an hilarious time though I will say. I like villager's voice quite a lot since it's rather soft sounding. I also have not listened to the voice drama though I have heard that Villager also has some yandere lines there.

[440mxs-wife]

The Country Doctor, Chapter 4: Change of Address

Pairing: Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy x F!Reader (eventual). Other Characters are the usual suspects: Jim Kirk, Nyota Uhura, Spock, Christine Chapel, Scotty, Keenser, Miles O'Brien.

Word Count: 4909

Warnings: Mention of destruction of property, oblivious and a bit insecure Reader, nosy but well-meaning friends, injured Reader, Leonard being protective and becoming aware of his "feelings", Jim being his usual, charming, mischievous self

Summary: Fresh off of his divorce, Dr. McCoy receives word that he has inherited a 5,000-acre farm and home in Logan, Montana. Finally, he has an opportunity for a clean slate and to start his own clinic out west and leave his ex-wife behind. Along the way, he'll meet a cast of unique characters, each with a place in his new small-town life. But there could be trouble ahead in the form of a powerful CEO hell-bent on acquiring Leonard's property by any means necessary.

A/N: This idea was posted by @hailbop1701, with a specific list of plot points/dialog to be included. I won't put the list here, because it'll give away too much. Not sure how many parts there'll be, but I hope you like where I take the story. Also, I have intermixed AOS with NextGen to include additional characters.

A/N 2: If you’ve been tagged here, it’s because you’ve interacted one or more times on a McCoy story of mine, or we’re moots. Whether you like or reblog, I am eternally grateful for your support. If anyone else would like to be tagged on any future Karl Urban character postings, or would rather leave the Crazy Train, please let me know. Thank you, and enjoy the show!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The drive to town to check out your apartment situation was a quiet one. Leonard was focused on the road, with occasional glances in your direction. At the same time, you tried to take comfort in the fact that no one, especially Mimzy, was hurt. Neither of you knew what to expect when you got there, because as Nyota had explained, the building was a total loss. Leonard was therefore determined to support you in whatever capacity you needed.

As soon as you arrived on the scene, you scanned the area for the Fire Chief. You wanted to check in with him so he could cross your name off of the list of tenants accounted for. And you wanted some answers as to how this could've happened. It was an older building, so maybe it was outdated wiring? Did a tenant burn popcorn in the microwave? Or, perhaps it was something deeper than that, like someone with an ax to grind? You shuddered at your last thought.

During the time you were speaking with the Fire Chief, Leonard waited for you, leaning against your car. Uhura checked on you first, then wandered over to stand with Jim, who had just pulled up in Leonard's truck. They talked for a while, mostly about you and Leonard. They compared notes and traded comments about how his eyes hadn't wavered from you in the slightest. He seemed on alert, ready to step in if you needed anything from him.

Finally, you heaved a weary sigh and gave the Fire Chief a tired smile as you shook his hand. "We'll keep you updated on the situation," he promised. You nodded, then thanked him and his crew for their efforts. He patted your shoulder, then walked to his truck and drove back to the station.

In the short time Leonard had known you, he had never seen you look so defeated. Usually, you could find the silver lining in most any situation, but this was different. It was not a typical situation, because you had just lost your home and most of your belongings. It was going to be difficult to see the upside right at this moment. Once the chief was gone, you shuffled over to your car and leaned against it, copying Leonard's stance. You took a deep breath. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself," he replied softly. "You okay, darlin'?"

As tears streamed silently down your face, you first nodded and tried to smile, then you shook your head in response. A choked sob escaped, which caused Leonard to reach out to draw you into his arms. One of his large hands splayed across your upper back, while his other one cradled the back of your head. He began to whisper soothing words in your ear to comfort you. "Shh, it's okay sweetheart. I've got you," he crooned.

After a few moments, your tears subsided, and you drew back to look at Leonard. His thumbs gently wiped away any remnants of the salty tracks from your cheeks. "Thank you, Len," you remarked, your hands curling around his wrists and thumbs massaging the area. "Sorry for breaking down like that."

"Are you kidding?" he gently chided. "No apology necessary, and completely understandable. What'd the Chief say?"

"Oh, um, nothing much," you sighed. "He says the preliminary examination shows that the fire started in my unit, possibly an electrical short in the kitchen or something," you muttered. "Should have the official report in about a couple of weeks or so."

By this time, Uhura and Jim had joined you and Leonard by your car. Both of them gave you a hug before releasing you back to Leonard, who put his arm around your shoulders. "So, you got a place to stay, sweetie?" Uhura asked you.

Jim and Leonard exchanged a meaningful glance between them, which did not go unnoticed by you and Uhura. "What?" you inquired, your eyes darting back and forth.

The staring contest between the two men continued, each one wordlessly trying to goad the other into answering you. When you asked a second time, Leonard finally responded. "You could stay at my house," he blurted out. He scowled at Jim, who wore a smug, triumphant look on his face.

It was the last thing you expected to hear, which caused you to stare first at Jim, then at Leonard in shock. Before you could answer, Jim started throwing out reasons why you should consider it. How there's more than enough room at the house and you'd never be late for work. "And you have to admit, the view of the sunset from the front porch is just about the prettiest thing you've ever seen," he declared. "Except for you, of course," he added cheekily, and which earned him a glare from Leonard.

You caught Leonard's eyes, searching his face for any sign of hesitation or that he might change his mind. "You sure you're okay with this? I wouldn't want to be a bother," you answered hesitantly.

"Oh, he's sure, all right," Jim interjected. "In fact, we talked about asking you to move in before we came out here. Isn't that right, Bones?" he added, daring his friend to contradict the statement.

"He's right, we did talk about it. And I would've asked you myself, were it not for this overgrown man-child next to me who's unable to keep his mouth shut," Leonard muttered. "But I didn't say anything because I didn't want to intrude on any plans you may have already made," he assured you.

"Unfortunately, I really hadn't thought that far ahead," you chuckled softly. "I would love to stay with you, but only if you're sure," you replied. "I promise I won't stay any longer than is necessary, and I won't let it affect my work."

Leonard rolled his eyes. "I'm not all that worried about any of that, darlin'. You are welcome to stay as long as you need or want to. There's plenty of room at the McCoy Estate," he quipped. "And you're hardly a bother. If anything, I've got the better end of the deal, with one of the best cooks in town," he grinned. "What do you say? Shall we first see if there's anything you can salvage from your place?" He held out his hand for you to take and waited patiently until you gently gripped it in your own.

"Well, I can hardly argue with any of that," you laughed for the first time since you'd heard about the fire. "Let's see what's left of my stuff, if anything."

Jim and Uhura watched as their friends headed towards your apartment to see if there was anything worth saving. "Well, well, this should be interesting," Jim remarked. "The two of them together, living under the same roof? Gonna be entertaining, that's for sure," he smirked.

"Certainly should be, with those two. Wonder how long it'll take before one or both of them cracks under the pressure. You know you have to keep me updated. So, you got some sort of plan?" Uhura asked.

Jim threw his arm around her shoulder and gave her a mischievous look. "Oh, ye of little faith," he grinned. "Of course I do, I've been working on getting those two together since they met. Let me tell you what I've got," he winked conspiratorially.

***

The transition from living in your apartment to the McCoy Estate wasn't as difficult at you thought it would be. True to his word, you had your own room, complete with a bathroom nearby that included a shower and tub. The closet was the perfect size for the batch of clothes you were able to rescue from your apartment. Mimzy settled in right away, finding the best spot for looking out of the window and which provided the best sunlight for napping.

Sure, there were challenges, though you found they were outweighed by the companionship you gained after living alone for so long. Mimzy brought you comfort, but she wasn't usually up for those late-night chats. No, it was Leonard's company you sought, his presence you craved. As the weeks went by, the more time you spent together, the more time you wanted to spend alone with him.

>>>

One night before closing the clinic, you noticed that there were no appointments for the following day. It had been steady, nearly non-stop with patients since the clinic opened, so this was a golden opportunity for a day of relaxation. You couldn't wait to tell Leonard and see the relief on his face. 

When he walked into the kitchen after his shower, Leonard was greeted with the most heavenly aromas. A large pot of chili was simmering on the stove, while a pan of freshly baked cornbread stood cooling on the counter, along with a Dutch apple pie. He was definitely looking forward to dinner tonight, though he wondered what the occasion was.

With your attention on preparing the meal, you didn't yet notice as Leonard slowly crept up to your side. Your back was turned towards the doorway, as you hummed to yourself and gently swayed from side to side, oblivious to the eyes on you. "Something smells fantastic in here," you heard from behind you.

You nearly dropped the spoon you were stirring the pot with as you whirled around in surprise. Leonard casually leaned against the counter with his arms crossed lazily over his chest. He was barefoot and wearing a pair of navy-blue lounge pants, slung low on his hips, with a gray T-shirt. His eyes danced with mischief, while a tender smile graced his lips. "Well, what do we have here?"

"It's my mama's special recipe chili, with cheddar cornbread, and a Dutch apple pie for dessert," you remarked.

"Sounds amazing. Although I don't know what I did to deserve such an elaborate meal, but whatever it was, I'll do it again," he chuckled.

"Nothing in particular, Len, I promise. It's not that elaborate, either. Weather's getting cooler, so I thought it was time to make some chili. Naturally, cornbread has to go with it," you shrugged.

"Naturally," he agreed, then chuckled as he began to set the table for two. When you told him that Jim was joining you, he rolled his eyes and grudgingly grabbed another bowl and spoon. Most evenings, it was the two of you for dinner, and truth be told, he preferred it that way. "But what about the apple pie? Something's going on. What's the occasion?"

"If you could please bring the chili to the table, I'll be happy to explain," you added mysteriously.

With a raised eyebrow, he did as you asked, while Jim rushed in and found his seat at the table. Leonard waited until you were finished serving to begin your explanation. You mentioned how you had checked the schedule for the next day, and that it was clear of appointments.

"Are you sure? I don't think that's happened since we started," he noted. "I swear, we've seen everyone in town at least once already," he joked.

"Believe me, I checked it twice, for exactly that reason," you assured him with a smile. "No appointments, no physicals, no immunizations scheduled, nada. Soooo, I'm thinking you are due for a day off, Dr. McCoy."

Leonard paused with his spoon in mid-air to consider your offer. He'd once commented to Jim that he wanted a sign that would advertise McCoy Clinic on one side and have Gone Fishin' on the other. The weather report showed the perfect conditions for a relaxing day of drowning worms, so why was he hesitating? "We can't just close, the town depends on us to be available," he countered, shaking his head as he returned his spoon to the bowl.

"Bones, when are you going to get another chance like this?" Jim groaned. "There's no rain in tomorrow's forecast, mild temperatures, and a light breeze. You haven't had any time to enjoy this 'inheritance' of yours since we moved here, and it won't be long before winter sets in." He slapped his palm on the table, pointed to his friend, and declared, "That's it. I've decided. You are going to play hooky tomorrow."

"And what if a patient needs our services?" Leonard asked.

"I've already thought of that," you responded. "I'll go in like normal. I can answer the phones, and I'm sure there's some filing or something I can do. Maybe I'll catch up on my reading list. If someone shows up, I'll give you a call. By the time you get back, they will be all checked in and waiting for you."

Can I really do this, take a day off? he silently wondered. The idea of having a day free from seeing patients made him both excited and nervous. However, you and Jim had a point, that this was a rare opportunity, and he was damned if he was going to waste it. "All right, I'll close up shop for tomorrow," he relented, grinning at the cheers and applause from you and Jim. "On one condition, though," he hastily added.

You tilted your head to the side and tapped your chin with your index finger. "Which is?"

A smug smile crept across his lips. "You have to take the day off, too. No answerin' phones, no filin' papers, nothin'. Matter of fact, I don't even want you to go into the office. You deserve a day off as much as I do, darlin'," he affirmed.

A day off? For me? you thought. It was almost a foreign concept, even though in previous jobs, you'd taken vacation days from work. Unfortunately, considering the pile of work that typically greeted you upon your return, it was almost not worth it to take the day off to begin with. Leonard ran a tight ship, was dedicated to his patients, but even he knew when to knock off for the day. "Okay, I'm in. You and Jim can go fishin' and I'll find something to do on my own."

"Wait a minute, I never agreed to--" Leonard sputtered.

"Hey, thanks Bones! I'd love to go fishin' with you, get some of that 'manly bonding' in," Jim replied with a wide grin. "We can leave early, I've already scouted out a great place along the river where we'll be sure to fill our buckets. See ya in the morning!" He dashed off down the hall, towards his room, a beaming smile still on his face.

Leonard's shoulders drooped as he hung his head in defeat. After a few seconds, he looked up at you with mournful eyes. "Why do you hate me?" he whined. You had to fight hard to keep from smiling at his pitiful question. "You told me I was due for a day off, which would imply that I was supposed to do something to relax! Now I have to spend it talking to Jim all day," he grumbled. "That's not my idea of relaxing."

A giggle escaped your lips before you could stop it. "I'm sorry, Len. Have fun with your 'manly bonding', though," you grinned, your hand on his forearm.

"Yeah, you're having way too much fun with this, and you are definitely not one little bit sorry," he shot back, trying to sound annoyed. However, you could see the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in amusement.

***

The next morning, you rose early to put together a picnic basket for Jim and Leonard, with coffee as the first order of business. While it was brewing, you packed some sandwiches, fruit, chips, and a jug of sweet tea. The finishing touch was some oatmeal chocolate chip cookies you baked last night as a peace offering to Leonard for hijacking his day off.

Jim was the first to arrive in the kitchen, placing his backpack enthusiastically on the table. "This is gonna be so great! Two friends, out in nature, fishin' and shootin' the breeze," he grinned.

"As long as you keep the breeze-shootin' to a minimum, Jim. Leonard really needs this downtime to....I don't know, decompress or something. I swear, sometimes he's wound up tighter than an 8-day clock," you muttered. "Please?"

Jim put his hands on your shoulders. "You can count on me, sister. Bones will come back so relaxed, you won't even recognize him," he promised.

"I just hope....I mean, he clearly deserves more than a few hours to not have to think about work, because he's had enough other stuff to worry about. First, there's the thing with NorthStar Corp hanging over his head, not to mention the general pressure that comes from being a doctor. Then we add my troubles to the list, with the apartment fire and moving in with you guys. I'm starting to wonder if it's--if I'm too much and maybe it would be better if I wasn't here all the time," you murmured.

Leonard was about to enter the kitchen when he heard your last comments about his list of worries. He was disheartened to hear how you felt you were adding to them, and that you thought the best solution was for you to leave. No, he thought to himself. Please don't leave, sugar.

Ever since you'd moved in, this house he inherited has felt more like a home. It's been transformed by your warmth and kindness, and most importantly, your bright smile. Around nearly every corner, he could find where you'd left your imprint. He could see you in the kitchen cooking dinner or curled up on the couch watching a movie. Even with the little knick-knacks you brought over from your apartment, it was you he saw. It wasn't something he was going to let go of without a fight.

"Listen, you leaving here is not the answer," Jim started. "Bones would still be worried about those things you mentioned whether you were living here or not. 'S just how he is, and it's because he cares so much. Besides, he wouldn't have asked you to stay here if he didn't want you here. Think about that," he winked.

Leonard silently thanked Jim as he strode into the kitchen like he'd not been eavesdropping outside the door. "Coffee ready yet?" he asked. You held up a travel cup, already prepared the way he liked it. He took a sip and gave you an appreciative smile. "Hold down the fort for us, will ya, darlin'? And enjoy your day off," he remarked. Before he could talk himself out of it, he dove in to give you a quick kiss on the forehead, followed by a wink.

Jim slung his backpack over his shoulders and picked up the picnic basket full of supplies. As he passed you, he shot you a smirk that said, See? I told you so, then ran to catch up with Leonard. You shook your head and rolled your eyes as you picked up your book and began to read.

***

After a little more than an hour of blissfully uninterrupted reading, you finished the last chapter and closed your book. According to your email, the next book in the series had been released last week, so you decided to pop into town. Since the boys borrowed your car, you grabbed your wallet, sunglasses, and the keys to Leonard's truck from the hook near the door. A quick flip of the dial to some classic rock music, and you were on your way.

While you were in town, you decided to pick up the supply order from Mountain Vista Pharmacy for the clinic. You had spoken to Mr. Spock earlier in the week to let him know what was needed, and he agreed to have it ready for you. Some items had to be obtained from an outside vendor, but Mr. Spock didn't mind if you had it shipped to his pharmacy for later pickup.

The bell above the door jingled when you walked into the pharmacy and received a smile and nod from Mr. Spock. "Good afternoon, Mr. Spock! I'm here for the supply order for the clinic," you called.

"Of course, I'll be with you in a moment," he promised.

While he attended to the short line of customers at the counter, you browsed the magazines aisle, flipping through a couple of them. You paid particular attention to the ones about cooking, always on the lookout for new meal ideas. After choosing the one with the simpler recipes and everyday ingredients, you added it to your shopping basket.

It didn't take long for Mr. Spock to clear the line of customers, after which he waved you over to the counter. In addition to the cooking magazine, you added some Lemon Drop candies and Butterscotch Disks to the order. Mr. Spock regarded your choices with a raised eyebrow, then gave you a wry grin when you playfully warned him not to judge you for your sweet tooth.

"I heard about the fire at your apartment building. I am pleased to know that no one was hurt in the incident," he remarked.

"Yes, so am I. All of my neighbors were able to get out in time, with one grabbing my cat. She's definitely enjoying life at Dr. McCoy's house, though," you replied.

"So, you're living with Dr. McCoy, hmm?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "A logical decision, I believe, considering you are his assistant in the clinic."

"Oh, come on, Spock, it's more than just a 'logical decision'," chimed in his assistant, Christine Chapel. "They're well-suited for each other!"

"Whoa, wait a minute," you interjected. "It's not like that, Dr. McCoy was being a good friend by offering me someplace to stay. He doesn't think of me that way," you argued.

A look passed between Spock and Christine that showed your argument was a less than convincing one. Fortunately by this time, your clinic order was brought to the front counter. You quickly exited the pharmacy, following the young man out to the truck as he carried the box.

Along with the pharmacy order, you also had a small list of things to get at Scotty's hardware store, The Tool Box. Light bulbs, batteries, a roll of duct tape, and a package of small nails for hanging pictures were added to your basket. While you were there, you found some antique-looking drawer handles that you thought would look nice in the kitchen, so you added them to your purchases.

A similar conversation concerning your living arrangements with Leonard played out between you, Scotty, and his assistants, Miles O'Brien and Keenser. As with Spock and Ms. Chapel, you assured them that there wasn't anything romantic between you and Leonard. Before their speculation could escalate, you quickly paid for your items and added them to the rest of your purchases.

With everything nestled safely in the bed of Leonard's truck, you wandered over to Mr. Chekov's Java Station Café and Book Nook. In desperate need of new reading material, you treated yourself to one of the best varieties of coffee available at the café. In the bookstore, you made sure to grab the next book in the series you were reading, plus a second book by another of your favorite authors.

On your way back to the truck, you checked your watch and noticed it was late into the afternoon. The guys should be getting back from fishing, and when you saw Uhura from across the parking lot you waved at each other. She had just left work for the day, so the two of you stopped at the fire station to talk to the Chief. He regretfully informed you that there was no new information on your case. After making lunch plans for the weekend, you and Uhura parted ways.

Before you climbed into the truck, you noticed a wire dangling from the rear bumper. At first, you thought it was a loose connection from the license plate light. You were going to tuck it back in place, then you saw a timer, with its numbers counting in reverse. It was attached to what looked like a small homemade explosive device and was nearing zero. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you jumped to your feet and began to scream, "OMIGOD, RUN!! RUN!! EVERYBODY RUN!!!"

Seconds later, you felt a searing blast of heat as you flew through the air and landed on your left side, with shards of glass raining down. A sharp burst of pain shot up your arm to your shoulder, followed by a cracking noise, and you knew something was broken. With a shaking hand, you reached up to where you felt something warm trickle down the side of your face. As you pulled your hand back, your fingertips were a bit sticky and covered in crimson.

Nyota rushed over to your side and you could see her lips moving, but her words sounded to you like she was speaking underwater. She tried to get you to focus on her as she shouted for medical attention from the paramedics at the fire station. Tiny black spots appeared at the edge of your vision, and you fought to keep them at bay as they began to grow. You grabbed her arm and she swung her panicked gaze back to you. "Find Leonard. Fishing with Jim," you whispered before you finally lost consciousness.

***

"Isn't this great, Bones? Two friends, communing with nature, spending a quiet afternoon together, no work in sight," Jim mused as he cast his line into the water.

"The afternoon would be quiet, if not for your running commentary. You're scarin' the fish away," Leonard grumbled. He was about to cast his own line back into the water when Jim's phone rang. He gave the man an exasperated look, which quickly morphed into concern as he listened to the conversation.

"Hello?....Wait, wait, slow down, Nyota. She WHAT? Okay, okay, don't worry, I'll tell Leonard. We'll pack up right now and meet you at the hospital in Belgrade," Jim assured her, then disconnected the call. He turned and winced when he saw the puzzled look on Leonard's face at the mention of "hospital".

"Tell me what? What happened? Who's in the hospital?" McCoy demanded.

"No time for questions, Bones, just grab everything and throw it in the trunk, we can sort it out later. I'll explain on the way," Jim promised.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, I'll drive. Just tell me what's going on," McCoy pleaded.

Jim grabbed Leonard's arms to steady his friend, and in part, himself. "Listen. There's been an accident. And once I tell you what happened and who's involved, you'll be thankful that I'm the one driving," Jim muttered.

At his friend's tone, he knew it had something serious to do with you. He nodded solemnly and hurried to pack their fishing gear plus anything else they brought with them. Once everything was stowed in the trunk, both men climbed into the car, buckled their seatbelts, and sped off towards Belgrade. "Okay, we're on the road. Now will you tell me what's going on?"

***

Twenty minutes later, Jim pulled the car into the lane just outside the Emergency Room entrance. Leonard barely waited for the car to come to a complete stop before bolting out of his seat and stepping through the sliding doors to the ER. He marched up to the Nurse's Desk and demanded to be updated on your condition.

At first the nurse refused to confirm to Leonard that you were even a patient of her hospital, let alone release any status information to him. As he was still arguing with the nurse, Jim appeared at his side after parking the car.

He tried to turn on the charm, since his friend's direct approach didn't seem to be working, but the nurse was steadfast in her refusal. Fortunately, both your doctor and Uhura heard the commotion. They came out and were able to smooth things over then explain about your condition and the extent of your injuries.

Nyota looped her arm around Dr. McCoy's elbow and led him and Jim down the hall to your room. As they walked, she explained to him what had occurred, filling in the gaps in Jim's account of the situation. She asked about the fishing trip, and if they'd caught much of anything, or if it was all "manly bonding" time. Her questions drew a huff of laughter from him and, for a moment, he forgot he was at a hospital waiting to see you.

When they arrived at your room, a nurse was just leaving, after he collected your vital signs. Leonard asked to see them, and was handed the clipboard with your information. The nurse said you were still unconscious, but that it was okay to go in and sit with you. "Your girl's a fighter," he said. "Injuries like hers and all she kept asking about was if anyone else got hurt and if they were okay," he explained, shaking his head.

"Yeah, that's my girl," Leonard remarked softly. He took a deep breath then slowly turned the handle to open your door. The sight of you that greeted him made his heart sink to the floor. 

There was a tube in your arm to deliver IV meds and fluids, while your other arm was in a sling. You had multiple lacerations on your face, neck, and arms from the flying glass in the explosion, and it was likely you had a concussion. Near your bedside, a machine beeped as it monitored your blood pressure, heart rate, and oxygen levels. Bandages covered what was likely second-degree burns to your forearms and upper chest.

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispered. "Who did this to you?" He reached up with a shaky hand to gingerly touch the bandage on your temple. His other hand gripped yours as a few tears rolled down his face. He silently vowed that whoever was responsible, he would hold them accountable, no matter what. "If it's a war they want, I'll give them a war."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @marvelouslytrekking @spacedancer1701 @anna-phora @hailbop1701  @writercole  @lassie-bird  @never--doubt  @phoenixisred  @wayward-dreamer  @erindiggory  @strangesgirls  @dumpsterhippie  @genevablog26  @lokis-deares  @medicatemedrmccoy  @rooweighton  @mamamercurymist  @d-doki-doki  @malmeansbad  @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @ghosttrekkie @noforkingclue @bellestalesoffiction @silversword7000 @maximumtacoshark @xspacedemonx @ilachoasgrem @madame-slayer

[razorblade180]

Tea? Venting? I don’t know

Ya know it’s kinda crazy I can still find people who absolutely can’t forgive Jaune for trying to court Weiss a few times but yet these same people recognize that Weiss and Blake are no longer a racist and a terrorist respectively.

Like I would understand if he was unhealthily obsessive, Weiss was genuinely pissed about the experience or actually told him directly to stop doing what he’s doing because it bothers her, but she truly couldn’t care less at the time and chalked it up to a boy after her name.

Canonically speaking, he flirted with her the first day, asked if she wanted to hangout after school one time, and then asked if she would go to dance with him potentially. After that he saw her pursue someone else and he went about his life. Was he a little cringe? Absolutely. But he never devalued or disrespected Weiss for his own selfish reasons? Not once. He’s just a dude who genuinely liked a girl for reasons he explained and gave a few separate and respectful attempts that weren’t “date me” but scenarios to hangout and talk.

Also, nobody ever wants throw shade on their friends who kinda encourage him to try again, or at the very least not stop immediately because Weiss wasn’t actually bothered nor was Jaune legitimately going too far.

Now I know someone says “If someone says no to a hangout then clearly-” Listen, I get it, and I understand. Real world speaking, people should have that level of self awareness and respect to try once. However, the real world also has many people that have the mindset that courting should involve someone being persistent and playing hard to get must be done. It sucks. Can’t stand it, but also those people aren’t just going to go away. At best it’s a case by case basis were individuals know to be respectful and communicate.

Back to the fictional show though, I’ve also seen people comment “I can’t believe he never apologized.” Bruh, Weiss and Jaune save each other often and talk kindly to one another. Weiss has no ax to grind with him about their history so why do you? She’s not losing sleep over it. Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if both of them missed the teenage drama of Beacon Days. Would it be nice if they had a conversation and he brought up how cringe he was towards her? Yeah it would be a sweet moment but also funny from Weiss’s perspective because she’s 100% self aware enough to know that him getting hung up on that flaw is so wild compared to thinking about her former flaws. I can totally see Weiss downplaying it for her own sake by going “Don’t worry about it. We both said and did some…embarrassing things back things back then.” As she tries not to think about how she drew Sun and called him a filthy faunus. 💀

In Summary, Weiss ain’t trippin about it, so why should you? They’re literally friends.

By the way, we don’t have a have single legitimate scene of Blake acknowledging to Yang that leaving without a word letter to give was really fucked up, and yet they’re fine and dating. If you can accept that unspoken apology, you can accept this.

[shroudandsands]

Prompt #12: Quarry

She felt it before Sawyer saw it. Her two wings whipped around on a wind born of realization, of sightless eyes whirling with her step to witness as the Hawk’s ammunition rocked the ground under them. As her own grip on the spell couldn’t stabilize, couldn’t hold, couldn’t root the earth that crumbled under the feet of the archer as he’d backed away- She was over to the edge in a jet from her wings. Her fingertips grazed his. The curse he screamed shot ice through her veins.

The moment, frozen as her limbs, screeched to a teeth-grinding halt. He was still within the range of her senses. Her wings could reach him if she pulled the other two away from Sawyer right then and there. She would be fine without them. But would they have enough power to lift him? Could she get them to cushion his fall? What about wind magic? Was there something she could channel fast enough to negate the fall? Could she cast it fast enough to still be able to get him while she could sense him? Her magicks got weaker the further her wings got from her- Could they speed down there while still being potent enough? Could she just get them moving before this resulted in a death that she was unsure she could- A realization shot all of these questions dead. She didn’t know how far down the ground was. Time shocked back into motion as she heard his axe-wielding partner scream, as she heard her own partner shout, as she felt her own voice wrenched from her throat.

Ah. She still didn’t know how to fly.

Her wings were already ablaze as she outran her scream down the cliff. Wind rushing, her feet grazing loose stone and debris along the wall, every twice-damned cell in her body screaming in deadlocked fear of what are you doing and even then it wasn’t enough to stop her from rocketing directly towards the ground. She’d have time to think about it after- She slammed into him first, then around him, then under him- her arms going under his in some vain attempt to pretend she had the strength- he grabbed onto her with a strength that could almost crush her in his panic- her wings swirled in a frenzy of gusts and jets as she scrambled to get them pointed anywhere that might stop them from splattering into the dirt- His feet scraped the ground as a squall of aether blasted dust, dirt, and rocks like a bomb as she slowed their descent. From something lethal, his head pointed towards the ground, to something bruising and bone breaking; held, holding, kept for what felt like just a moment too long- They thumped into the crater caused by the raw blast of magic. His bow thudded into the ground, snapping, in the distance.

-------

“Twice now…” The highlander rubbed the back of his neck. His partner stood behind him, a worried frown still adorning him like cracked armor, as he gripped his shoulder. “You’ve saved him. Now me. Hells, the both of us more than we could ask for.” He looked at Sawyer as she gave them a polite shake of her head. He bumped his partner behind him, who cleared his throat. “We ain’t exactly done much to warrant being saved once, let alone twice like this. We were talking- Neither of us know what to do to repay you for…” His maimed arm swung wide as he let out a noise of disbelief. “Any of this. Hells we didn’t even realize you two had been the folks starting us off. I know it’s supposed to just be business. That’s what you do- That’s how the guild works. But.” “No buts. You’ve said it yourself. My heartlight and I- We’re far from saints. This is part and parcel of our work.” Sawyer sighed, setting aside pieces of her disassembled gunblade. “You needed help in the pursuit of helping others. We would be remiss, in occupation and action, to not do our part. Especially given that the latest danger was, in part, my own fault.” The archer banged his fist on the bench he rested on. “It ain’t! I shouldn’t have been there! I should’ve known better that the ground would be unstable. It’d just rained, that blasted band was detonating bombs left and right-” His partner’s grip on him tightened. He flinched as his words cut short, as he looked away. The silence in the wake of it was, in a few words, awkward as fuck. His partner cleared his throat. “Is she… feeling better yet, anyways?”

At that, Sawyer’s lips pursed. The noulith sheathed in her bandolier twitched at the mere mention of her bough’s presence. She took it out from its place to hold it gently, to stare into the crystal as if it was a window to somewhere else. It had been not but a sun since the moment of it. The immediate after had consisted of a shocked and despondent Amesha being all but carried back to their inn. She’d not moved much and had said little more. Frankly she more than wished she was still there with her… But there wasn’t exactly anyone else to write about the incident and confirm that the two of them were safe. The glow of it dimmed as her Oasis’ proverbial eyes looked away. Sawyer sighed once again.

“…She’ll be fine soon. But perhaps do not make a habit of making her catch you.”

[amenders93]

Welcome to Chicken Island

Sorry for the long wait for another one of my Chicken Run posts, but at least late is better than never. Now that Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget has been streaming on Netflix for the last few weeks, I hope my next few posts of this franchise doesn't include too many spoilers for anyone who hasn't seen this wonderful sequel yet.

Anyway let's start at the beginning, when we hear our charming rooster voicing to us the memories of the first film in the form of what seems like a bedtime story. At first you might think he's talking to the audience watching the memories as the story is told. In his exact words, it goes like this:

"There was this farmer, see? And she absolutely hated chickens. Kept them locked up like prisoners. I guess you could say she had a real "axe" to grind. Got herself a machine that turned chickens into pies. But what she didn't plan on was going toe to toe with a certain freedom-fighting chick. She was fierce, fearless, and wanted one thing and one thing only - freedom. She pulled us all together and gave us the wings to fly right out of that hen-hole. She got every chicken out of there. And got rid of that wicked farmer to boot."

But later, after we see the newspaper article about the Tweedy farm explosion, we learn just who Rocky is really telling the story to. And among other things, we also learn a few other things about Rocky and Ginger after their past experiences. Those discoveries make themselves known as soon as Ginger asks the rooster if bedtime stories might be a bit premature at the moment. Rocky retaliates by saying that no one's never too young to learn where they came from. They both happily look at who, or what, Rocky was telling the story to - a precious egg laying in a cozy nest.

Yes, it's true. Rocky and Ginger are not boyfriend and girlfriend anymore. Now our beautiful feathered couple are happily married as husband and wife AND they're expecting a baby 🐓💍🐔. At this point, there's no telling when the egg will hatch but we do know it's going to happen any day now and soon, Rocky and Ginger will also be parents 🥚.

Ginger then heads outside their house with Rocky following right behind her. She tells her husband that their days in the past are over and they've got their happy ending. In fact, they're living in it. Our happily married couple then gaze out into the horizon looking at the tranquil village that all the free chickens have built over the last few years since their daring and risky escape from Tweedy's Farm. Much like a king and queen surveying their kingdom since Ginger is the leading hen and with Rocky as her forever mate now, he is the leading rooster as well.

As we look around the village, we see that all the chickens have built their own comfortable homes, much better compared to the huts they used to live in. Life on the island is good as it can be, especially for a few other chicken friends of ours. Bunty grows all the fruits and vegetables they could eat, much better than the chicken feed they used to eat. Mac's inventions made their lives much easier. Fowler is pretty much enjoying his retirement from being the leading rooster but still likes to talk about his days in the RAF. Babs continues to knit as she always does. As for the other hens, they pretty much do their own thing enjoying their freedom, not having a single worry in the world. Hard to believe that this opening scene in the village took about six months to make.

In fact, their new life is so perfect that Ginger believes that now is time to put the past behind them. Confused, Rocky questions his wife about this and she refers to the one wall in their house covered in pictures and newspaper clippings - most about the legendary explosion at Tweedy's Farm and one about Rocky's escape from the circus along with his old poster. Our couple head back inside looking at that very wall. Rocky indignantly reminds Ginger that these memories are their glory days and it's how they are. Our lovely hen scoffs at this, stating that it's who they were. Holding onto her husband's arm, she reminds him that they went through that dreadful past so their baby doesn't have to.

Rocky thinks about this for a moment. Our handsome rooster then admits to his wife that she's right. He then goes over to the wall and rips off his old circus poster; he would clear the rest of it later. At this point, both husband and wife agree that from now on, their only mission is to keep their baby safe. Our two married chickens gaze lovingly at their precious egg still laying in its nest, wondering when it's going to hatch. Though they won't have to wait much longer 😉.

[tzwriter]

NO CHOCOLATE

Living with Nightmare and his gang, Tricks was getting used to the permanent state of chaos in their life. Despite this, they were still stunned when, waking up one morning, they found a commotion in the kitchen.

First of all, the kitchen was not a place for turmoil. The room was sacred to Horror and he would kick out with axes anyone who tried to disturb the serenity there.

However, the open-skull skeleton was in the living room with one hand tugging at his blind eye socket and teeth grinding in irritation. Dust was propped up next to him in a supportive way, watching a cooking show, clearly intending to soothe his friend.

Meanwhile, Killer was running up and down the kitchen, rummaging through cupboard after cupboard and slamming doors in frustration, only to come back a minute later and revolve through the stored groceries again, as if what he was looking for could have magically appeared there. 

Cross was there too, his head on the table, one arm supporting his skull, the opposite hand tracing desolate circles on the marble top. He was muttering to himself, unlike Killer, who was repeating frantically. “Where is it? Where is it? How did this happen?!”

“Uh… Cross? What happened this time?” Tricks questioned him, since when they addressed Horror, Dust gave them a death stare.

“The universe is cold and unfeeling. The only constant is chaos” he whined softly, without even looking at them.

Tricks frowned in confusion. Yes, he was right, that was why they were living with Nightmare after all, but...

“Why are you saying this?”

“Was this place out of chocolate again?” The guardian of negativity appeared at the door with a bored expression, although his tentacles revealed his level of annoyance.

“BOSS!!!” Killer abandoned his senseless search of the cabinets, and Cross nearly ran over Tricks leaving the table. They both got down at Nightmare's feet and begged. “We need an urgent mission!”

“Please allow me to open a portal to Underfell right now. Ten minutes will be enough for us to get the necessary supplies.”

“Ten minutes?! So we have to go back tomorrow, you idiot?!” Killer shouted, giving him an elbow. “We need all the chocolate we can get our hands on and we will need all hands to help us in this mission!”

“Tch! You’re right.”

Wow. Cross agreeing with Killer? That day got even more bizarre.

“That's enough, you two!” - Nightmare ordered firmly, attracting the attention of those present. “Go clean this kitchen! It’s chaotic here.”

“But what about the chocolate?” Killer whimpered.

“If you want to see any chocolate in this castle again, this and the other common rooms better be shining at the end of the night.”

“I like it,” Dust smirked, appearing next to Horror, who has an expression of pain mixed with bloodshot fury in his big red eye. Did he have a migraine again?

Killer’s shoulders slumped, but Cross rolled up his sleeves.

“Consider it done, boss. C’mon, Killer. As soon as we finish it, the faster we will have chocolate.”

“But!”

Killer couldn’t protest while he was dragged to the next-door room, where the cleaning supplies were.

“Horror, you will rest. Dust, supervise Killer and Cross. As long as you are not satisfied, they are not free,” determined Nightmare.

Horror grumbled in agreement, without strength to oppose his boss while Dust smiled sadistically. 

“Got it, boss. But know I am never satisfied.”

Nightmare just shrugged, his tentacles slithering onto Horror's shoulders and taking him with him. Stepping past Tricks, he commanded, snapping his fingers and opening a portal right there.

“You go to Underfell now, get as much chocolate as you can. And be quick. The more time passes, the more insufferable these two are over the damn candy.”

“Um…Okay…” Were they having a withdrawal? How long did they go without chocolate? Besides, Tricks haven't even had breakfast yet.

“TRICKS!!! BRING MY DARK CHOCO!!!” Killer pleaded, his head popping out of the other room with black liquid dripping from his eyes with vigor.

Cross also appeared, bucket and squeegee in hand, but with an urgent look in their direction. Tricks nodded, giving them a confident smile.

“Dark chocolate for Killer and milk chocolate for Cross. Noted! And do you want something too? They asked the rest of the gang.

“Meat,” Horror muttered sheepishly.

“Some strong drink,” Dust growled in their direction.

“A new book,” Nightmare thought for a second, causing Tricks to stifle a laugh. They were talking about food, but their boss was like a moth anyway.

“Count on me!” Was their simple answer before jumping through the portal, landing in a dark alley in New Home. Only when the opening to the space closed did they realize that, in the haste of the gang, they had left their backpack in their room, living behind their best inventory space.

Well, either Tricks would need to take it easy... Or they could just improvise a bigger inventory. Surely, they could find some decent bag in town.

Of course, it would be easier if they hadn't forgotten their mask too. Now they would have to fulfill their mission while being hunted for being a human in the Underground again.

What a chaotic morning that was.

━━━━━━━✦🍫✦ ━━━━━━━

Inspired by this “incorrect-quote”, de @flowerscentedartist. Their “incorrect-quotes” make me so happy! They are the perfect thing to read when I’m stressed and just have one minute to relax. 😌  

🥰 If you like my stories, please, consider to support me on Ko-Fi and ask a tiny fic! 🥰  

[snowysakusa]

going down the brocedes rabbit hole pretty quickly, so i decided to make a taylor swift playlist-

can i call this a brocedes fic with taylor swift lyrics? cause it kinda is just that... anyway lets get down to it.

okay how about:

invisible string Cornelia Street Sweet Nothings Maroon champagne problems tolerate it coney island peace exile All Too Well (10 Min) The Archer The Great War Say Don't Go this is me trying You're Losing Me my tears ricochet Breathe Is It Over Now? The Way I Loved You I Bet You Think About Me Now That We Don't Talk

Here's the 'story'

1. invisible string / like a prologue (lewis' version perhaps)

Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no strings Were there clues I didn't see? And isn't it just so pretty to think All long there was some Invisible string Tying you to me? Time, mystical time Cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine Were there clues I didn't see? And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me? A string that pulled me Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons One single thread of gold tied me to you (...) Time, wondrous time Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies And it's cool, baby, with me And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?

unrelated to this narrative but: Cold was the steel of my axe to grind For the boys who broke my heart Now I send their babies presents (literally lewis sending presents to nico's daughters, i screamed)

2. Cornelia Street / Lover song, can't imagine it ending, prologue 2 (nico's version)

We were a fresh page on the desk Filling in the blanks as we go As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead Leading us home (...) Memorize the creaks in the floor Back when we were card sharks, playing games I thought you were leading me on I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street Before you even knew I was gone But then you called, showed your hand I turned around before I hit the tunnel Sat on the roof, you and I (...) Walk me back to that apartment Years ago, we were just inside Barefoot in the kitchen Sacred new beginnings That became my religion, listen I hope I never lose you I'd never walk Cornelia Street again Oh, never again (...) That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

3. Sweet Nothings / Beginnings, sweet nothings leading them on

I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes? They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

4. Maroon / They're loosing themselves here, the start of hurting each other

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon When the silence came, we were shaking blind and hazy How the hell did we lose sight of us again? Sobbin' with your head in your hands Ain't that the way shit always ends? You were standin' hollow-eyed in the hallway Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us I feel you no matter what The rubies that I gave up

5. Champagne Problems / consequences, mellowness, public view of their feud

You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems You had a speech, you're speechless Love slipped beyond your reaches And I couldn't give a reason Champagne problems Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush and your flannel cure "This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me" How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through One for the money, two for the show I never was ready, so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you "She would've made such a lovely bride What a shame she's fucked in the head, " they said But you'll find the real thing instead She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

6. tolerate it / nico pov, he's had it, begging for acknowledgement

I sit and watch you reading with your head low I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed I sit and watch you I greet you with a battle hero's welcome I take your indiscretions all in good fun I sit and listеn While you were out building other worlds, where was I? Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? I made you my temple, my mural, my sky Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life Drawing hearts in the byline Always taking up too much space or time You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I Break free and leave us in ruins Took this dagger in me and removed it Gain the weight of you then lose it Believe me, I could do it If it's all in my head, tell me now Tell me I've got it wrong somehow I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it

7. coney island / lewis pov, doesn't understand what changed, grief towards the relationship

Break my soul in two looking for you But you're right here If I can't relate to you anymore Then who am I related to? Did I close my fist around something delicate? Did I shatter you? And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island Wondering, "Where did my baby go?" The fast times, the bright lights, the merry-go Sorry for not making you my centerfold Do you miss the rogue Who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? Will you forgive my soul When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care? 'Cause we were like the mall before the internet It was the one place to be The mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams Sorry for not winning you an arcade ring And when I got into the accident The sight that flashed before me was your face But when I walked up to the podium I think that I forgot to say your name When the sun goes down The sight that flashed before me was your face When the sun goes down But I think that I forgot to say your name Over and over

8. peace / decisions and confessions

Our coming-of-age has come and gone Suddenly the summer, it's clear I never had the courage of my convictions As long as danger is near And it's just around the corner, darling 'Cause it lives in me No, I could never give you peace All these people think love's for show But I would die for you in secret The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me Would it be enough if I could never give you peace? And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences Sit with you in the trenches Give you my wild, give you a child Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother Is it enough? But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

9. exile / conflict within themselves

I can see you standing, honey With his arms around your body Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all I think I've seen this film before And I didn't like the ending You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town Now I'm in exile, seein' you out I think I've seen this film before I can see you starin', honey Like he's just your understudy Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me I think I've seen this film before And I didn't like the ending I'm not your problem anymore So who am I offending now? You were my crown Now I'm in exile, seein' you out I think I've seen this film before So I'm leavin' out the side door So step right out, there is no amount Of crying I can do for you All this time We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out (you didn't even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind) I couldn't turn things around (you never turned things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

10. All Too Well (10 Min) / Recap of everything that went down, trip down memory lane, receipts for combat (11. the archer)

And I, left my scarf there at your sister's house And you've still got it in your drawer even now And I can picture it after all these days And I know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more And I might be okay but I'm not fine at all You almost ran the red 'cause you were lookin' over at me Your cheeks were turning red You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed And your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the tee-ball team You told me 'bout your past thinking your future was me 'Til we were dead and gone and buried Check the pulse and come back swearing, it's the same After three months in the grave And then you wondered where it went to as I reached for you But all I felt was shame And you held my lifeless frame And I know it's long gone and there was nothing else I could do And I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to 'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night We're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light And there we are again when nobody had to know You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath And maybe we got lost in translation Maybe I asked for too much But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up Running scared, I was there I remember it all too well And you call me up again just to break me like a promise So casually cruel in the name of being honest I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here 'Cause I remember it all, all, all Too well They say all's well that ends well But I'm in a new hell every time You double-cross my mind The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel Whose shine reflects on you That's what happened: You You who charmed my dad with self-effacing jokes Sippin' coffee like you're on a late-night show But then he watched me watch the front door all night Willin' you to come And he said: It's supposed to be fun Turning 21 Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it I'd like to be my old self again But I'm still trying to find it But you keep my old scarf from that very first week 'Cause it reminds you of innocence And it smells like me You can't get rid of it 'Cause there we are again when I loved you so Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known It was rare, I was there I remember it all too well And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue? Just between us, did the love affair maim you too? 'Cause in this city's barren cold I still remember the first fall of snow And how it glistened as it fell I remember it all too well Just between us, did the love affair maim you all too well? Just between us, do you remember it all too well?

11. The Archer / pre-climax

Combat, I'm ready for combat I say I don't want that, but what if I do? 'Cause cruelty wins in the movies I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you Easy they come, easy they go I jump from the train, I ride off alone Dark side, I search for your dark side But what if I'm alright, right, right, right here? I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost The room is on fire, invisible smoke And all of my heroes die all alone Help me hold onto you I've been the archer I've been the prey Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay? Can you see right through me? They see right through me I see right through me All the king's horses, all the king's men Couldn't put me together again 'Cause all of my enemies started out friends Help me hold onto you I've been the archer I've been the prey Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay? You could stay Combat, I'm ready for combat

12. The Great War / self explanatory, climax. screaming, crying, throwing up (but well see 13 & 14)

My knuckles were bruised like violets Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked Tore your banners down, took the battle underground And maybe it was ego swinging You drew up some good faith treaties I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone You said I have to trust more freely But diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire And maybe it's the past that's talkin' Screamin' from the crypt Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did So I justified it It turned into something bigger Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed Your finger on my hair pin triggers Soldier down on that icy ground Looked up at me with honor and truth Broken and blue, so I called off the troops That was the night I nearly lost you I really thought I lost you There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair And we will never go back To that bloodshed, crimson clover Uh-huh, the worst was over My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War Always remember Uh-huh, we're burned for better I vowed I would always be yours 'Cause we survived the Great War

13. Say Don't Go / turnaround

I've known it from the very start We're a shot in the darkest dark I'm standin' on a tightrope alone I hold my breath a little bit longer Halfway out the door, but it won't close I'm holdin' out hope for you to Say, "Don't go" I would stay forever if you say, "Don't go" Now I'm pacin' on shaky ground Strike a match, then you blow it out Oh no, oh no, it's not fair Why'd you have to (why'd you have to) Make me want you (make me want you)? Why'd you have to (why'd you have to) Give me nothin' back? Why'd you have to (why'd you have to) Make me love you (make me love you)? I said, "I love you" (I said, "I love you") You say nothin' back Why'd you have to lead me on? (Oh) Why'd you have to twist the knife? Walk away and leave me bleedin', bleedin'? Why'd you whisper in the dark Just to leave me in the night? Now your silence has me screamin', screamin' go" I would stay forever if you say, "don't go" But you won't, but you won't, but you won't

14. this is me trying / nico, post-retirement-ish, rough patch, regrets

I've been having a hard time adjusting I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that I just wanted you to know That this is me trying They told me all of my cages were mental So I got wasted like all my potential And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad I have a lot of regrets about that I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere Fell behind on my classmates, and I ended up here Pouring out my heart to a stranger But I didn't pour the whiskey And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town And I just wanted you to know That this is me trying (...) At least I'm trying

15. You're Losing Me / the end, melancholy, relationship finale pt.1, friends? we're not friends vibes

You say, "I don't understand, " and I say, "I know you don't" Do I throw out everything we built or keep it? I'm getting tired even for a phoenix Always risin' from the ashes Mendin' all her gashes You might just have dealt the final blow Stop, you're losin' me I can't find a pulse My heart won't start anymore For you 'Cause you're losin' me How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'? I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick And the air is thick with loss and indecision I know my pain is such an imposition And you know what they all say You don't know what you got until it's gone How long could we be a sad song 'Til we were too far gone to bring back to life? I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier Fighting in only your army Frontlines, don't you ignore me You're losin' me Stop (stop, stop), you're losin' me Stop (stop, stop), you're losin' me I can't find a pulse My heart won't start anymore

16. my tears ricochet / the final blow, relationship finale pt.2, dead and gone and buried

If I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain Crossing out the good years

17. Breathe / cause and effect, acceptance

I see your face in my mind as I drive away, 'Cause none of us thought it was gonna end that way But it's killing me to see you go after all this time Now I don't know what to be without you around And we know it's never simple, Never easy Never a clean break, no one here to save me You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand, Never wanted this, never wanna see you hurt Every little bump in the road I tried to swerve And sometimes it doesn't work out, Nothing we say is gonna save us from the fall out I can't, Breathe, Without you, But I have to, Breathe, Without you, But I have to

18. Is it Over? / resentment, bitterness, both sides, in your face type of vibes

I slept all alone You still wouldn't go And did you think I didn't see you? There were flashing lights At least I had the decency To keep my nights out of sight Only rumors 'bout my hips and thighs Was it over then? And is it over now? When you lost control Red blood, white snow Blue dress on a boat Your new girl is my clone Let's fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later If she's got blue eyes, I will surmise that you'll probably date her You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor You search in every model's bed for something greater Oh, Lord, I think about Jumping off of very tall somethings Just to see you come running And say the one thing I've been wanting But no

19. The Way That I Loved You / reminiscing, flashbacks

He is sensible and so incredible And all my single friends are jealous He says everything I need to hear, and it's like I couldn't ask for anything better He respects my space And never makes me wait And he calls exactly when he says he will He's close to my mother Talks business with my father He's charming and endearing And I'm comfortable He can't see the smile I'm faking And my heart's not breaking 'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all And you were wild and crazy Just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated Got away by some mistake and now I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain It's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name I'm so in love that I acted insane And that's the way I loved you Breaking down and coming undone It's a roller coaster kind of rush And I never knew I could feel that much And that's the way I loved you

20. I Bet You Think About Me / again with the reminiscing of the past, their lives, a bit of knife digging in the wound, I bet you think about me while thinking about them, double sided sword there

3 a.m. and I'm still awake, I'll bet you're just fine Well, I tried to fit in with your upper-crust circles Yeah, they let me sit in back when we were in love Oh, they sit around talkin' 'bout the meaning of life And the book that just saved 'em that I hadn't heard of But now that we're done and it's over I bet you couldn't believe When you realized I'm harder to forget than I was to leave And I bet you think about me You grew up in a silver-spoon, gated community Glamorous, shiny, bright Beverly Hills I was raised on a farm, no, it wasn't a mansion Just livin' room dancin' and kitchen table bills But you know what they say, you can't help who you fall for And you and I fell like an early spring snow The voices so loud sayin', "Why did you let her go?" Does it make you feel sad That the love that you're lookin' for Is the love that you had? Now you're out in the world, searchin' for your soul Scared not to be hip, scared to get old Chasing make-believe status, last time you felt free Was when none of that shit mattered 'cause you were with me I bet you think about me in your house With your organic shoes and your million-dollar couch I bet you think about me

21. Now That We Don't Talk / they still check in on each other, instead of talking, the end

You went to a party I heard from everybody You part the crowd like the Red Sea Don't even get me started Did you get anxious though On the way home? You grew your hair long You got new icons You didn't have to change But I guess I don't have a say I call my mom, she said that it was for the best Remind myself the more I gave, you'd want me less I cannot be your friend So I pay the price of what I lost And what it cost I don't have to pretend I like acid rock Or that I'd like to be on a mega yacht With important men who think important thoughts Guess maybe I am better off Now that we don't talk And the only way back to my dignity Was to turn into a shrouded mystery Just like I had been when you were chasing me Guess this is how it was to be Now that we don't talk

i tried to make this short- i tried and did not succeed.

when i listen to songs i see stories and i connect them, all that jazz. I saw this.

i apologise to everyone who's normal about brocedes, im not apparently.

[iphigeniacomplex]

the portrayal of the father throughout anaïs mitchell’s 2012 album young man in america is such a thesis statement. all of these fathers existing within one album, within one father. the contradiction is the point. your father made you and feels nothing, your father binds you and calls you his sweet babe, your father loved you and could never look at you. your father is god, and his father is god. his god is not your father. you are your father, but there will always be another father to request blood, to feed his sheep from the grass over your grave, to be tall while you are small, to love you in his way. be it ill, or be it good (father tell me) makes you bind me hand and foot (every day a dying day)? my father was a lord of land. my daddy was a repo man. your daddy was a farmer. your daddy was a builder. father is a shepherd. like a splinter in the wood, he couldn’t pull you from his heels. put me out into the streets, did not give a damn for me. love you, love you, love you. he did, he did, he did. did not give a damn. be it ox or be it ram to please the god of abraham? oh father, shepherd us. he stood high above you, sky around his head, sawdust in his hair; a scarecrow of a man. he couldn’t draw you near to him. anywhere but where he was. anywhere but where you were. didn’t i gleam in my father’s eye? he was never one to praise anybody to his face. who are you to understand the ways of him who holds the blade? who gave you an axe to grind? who am i? daddy, daddy, gonna wish you never had me. your daddy didn’t leave a will, he left a shovel and a hole to fill. he buried her and the babe within. he brought the flock to feed there. and no one taught me how to cry. grinding your teeth trying to sleep it off, waking up with an aching jaw. who gave you a path to find? who are you to stay the hand of him who made you? who am i? father is a shepherd, and the shepherd’s work is never done. who am i? who gave you a road to hoe? be it ill or be it good makes you bind me hand and foot? father shepherd us (you are forgiven). love you, (you are forgiven) love you, (you are forgiven) love you. be it ill or be it good? who gave you your sorrow? oh, my sweet babe. he did, he did, he did. i am doing as i should.