#would not have been able to find any of these without it

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 9 - Déjà vu

CW: dead dove don't eat, torture, death, suicidal thoughts.

The playlist I have been writing to for this series is here!

Previous parts - masterlist - next

This is real, but it doesn’t feel real. Your breathing picks up, your heart is thumping in your chest. You try to remember the techniques your therapist taught you for avoiding a panic attack. 

This is real though, you’re not fighting against your subconscious and memories, this isn’t like the flashbacks you get in the shower.

This is real.

You’re still in the dark, maybe that's on purpose, maybe it's already started, the psychological torture. Keeping you in the closest thing to a sensory deprivation room. You don’t bother trying to keep track of time. They don’t bring you food or water, you can’t hear anything on the other side of the walls, it’s just you and your thoughts. 

Someone comes to collect you, slapping cuffs back on and walking you down a windowless corridor into a brightly lit room with a table bolted to the floor and chairs on either side. He shoves you down into a chair, there’s a large one way window in the room, on this side you can only see your reflection. 

You expect the soldier to tie your hands to the table or the chairs. He doesn’t though, he takes the cuffs and leaves. You’re alone now, you hear the door lock, not like you were going to run anyway. You’re not waiting too long before the door opens again.

Philip Graves walks in, you’ve only run into him a few times, he doesn’t look any different from what you remember. You straighten up in your chair, he walks over to the other side of the table. He has a folder tucked under his arm and two cups, one in each hand. 

“I didn’t know how you took it. Milk and sugar?” He asks as he puts one of the cups in front of you. You ignore him looking behind him at the one way glass. You wonder if they’re watching; John or Johnny, maybe even kyle. 

Graves puts the folder down on the table and sits down. 

There’s nothing they can do. It was days before Laswell managed to exonerate you before, you have a feeling this time it’s going to be different. 

“It surprised me when I heard 141 were getting a medic.” He leans back in his chair sipping his coffee. “How many times have you had to pull them out of the field for some dumb shit?” 

You stay silent. 

“Well, I always knew they would ruin every nice thing they get.” He chuckles, it makes you feel sick.

God you hate him. Good, at least when he hurts you it won't be as painful. You don’t have to worry about moving on without him, forgiving him. You can spend the rest of your life hating him for what he’s going to do. 

“Your personal devices are being checked. Want to let us know in advance if we will find anything?” He says, raising an eyebrow. Your stomach twists, they’ll find nudes pictures you sent to tease them before everything fell apart. You haven’t been able to bring yourself to look at them let alone get rid of them.

You stare him down until just sighs and takes another drink of his coffee. 

“I respect you, you’ve been here before and you’re still so.. put together.” He leans forward studying your face. “How do you do it? I would love to give some tips to my men.” 

It feels like a pathetic attempt to get you to lower your defences; make you think you’re the one with the power. You’re not going to say anything, not until he forces you, and even then you’re not going to make it easy for him. You’ve had your time to panic, you’ve had your time to cry, now it’s your time to fight.

You tune out Graves as he batters you with questions you ignore, you don’t want to build rapport with him. Instead you end up looking past him at the one way window in the room. You never got a chance to tell John you forgave him, maybe he’s watching, maybe he’s not, you don’t know what's worse. 

You don't know if Simon is okay, if he’s out of surgery or if he’s stable. That makes you sad, you hope he survives, a few months ago you wouldn’t have had the strength to push gauze in his wounds if he was bleeding out. Now you can’t stand the thought of him not being around. 

Your therapist was right, even though you didn’t believe it during your sessions, you feel stronger, brave. You worked the trauma into something positive, you forgave the people you love, the people you hurt you. You close your eyes letting out a breath, you remember the first day you were in the house you all bought. 

The kitchen was being renovated, the place was empty, all there was was a single mattress on the living room floor. That's all you needed apparently, that and takeaway, it was a good night. Even though the acoustics of the empty house were less than ideal, you had some really good sex, then you fell asleep in someone's arms. 

A knock on the door snaps you out of your thoughts, you look up at Graves who’s demeanor has changed. Maybe he’s bored of you ignoring him. He gets up and goes over to open it. He blocks the door, you try to look but you can’t see. You can’t make out what he’s saying either. 

When the door closes the mood in the room is different. Graves comes over and puts your phone on the table in between you both. He doesn’t sit down. 

“What do you think we found?”

You look up at him blinking. You won’t break this easily.

“It will be easier if you talk.” 

You hold your ground. There is nothing incriminating on your phone, on any of your devices. He crosses his arms. 

“I didn’t expect you of all people to be the one attempting to take out 141 twice.” He scoffs. “I can’t fault your dedication. But here’s the thing, you stepped on the toes of someone you probably didn’t mean to. Now we need to find out what you know.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him. He lets out a huff pressing his lips together. 

“Andrei Nolan, ring a bell?” You try so hard not to react, you can feel your jaw clenching though. Graves reaches over and picks up the folder. He flicks through it until he finds what he’s looking for, he throws one of the CCTV snapshots on the table. You don’t even need to lean forward to look, you know it's the same ones John showed you months ago. 

It’s happening again, John and Simon didn’t believe you when you were screaming and begging at them. You have a feeling Graves gives less of a fuck. 

“This really doesn’t have to be hard.” He puts the folder down bracing on the table, his arms spread apart. He studies you for a reaction you unclench your jaw keeping eye contact with him. He stands up striding round the table to stand next to you. You don’t move, keeping your eyes looking at yourself in the mirrored window.

“Your life is about to get extremely uncomfortable extremely quickly if you don’t cooperate.” His breath is hot on your ear, his voice low as he grits his teeth. “You think 141 were bad, you haven't seen anything yet. You should really think hard about how you want to continue these little talks.”  

His fingers are gripping your arms as he pulls you to your feet. He knees your thighs forcing you to bend over the table as he pulls your wrists into cuffs. Your heart rate picks up again, he's dragging you back to your cell. He throws you in without taking the cuffs off. You stubble against the metal bed, the door is slammed closed. Your arms are stuck behind your back as you steady yourself the best you can. 

You let out a grunt sitting down on the floor as the lights go off again. 

You’re not going to let them break you.

…

This time it’s harder. That surprises you. 

You don’t get to sleep, you can’t keep track of time, they don’t bring you food or water. Everytime you’re about to nod off or get comfy you're dragged out of your cell into the same blindingly bright room. The torture hasn’t started quite yet, Graves just shouts at you, his voice going horse after a few hours. 

You don’t say a word. 

Your body is exhausted, you have no idea how long it has been. One day at least, Graves took a shower. You could see his ruffled hair groomed, he smelt of the shitty base soap. 

“141 may have believed your bullshit but I don’t buy it for a second!” He shouts, slamming his hand down on the metal table. It’s been another long session, your head is swimming, your body is feeling weak, you could use some food, or a sleep. At least 141 kept you fed and let you get some sleep.

Graves comes over to you yanking your hair forcing your head to look straight. His grip is tight causing you to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palm. It’s the first time he’s been physical with you. 

“Lieutenant Riley is dead.” It’s like a punch to the gut. Your eyes widen, your breathing stops. 

You feel like you’re going to be sick, your head swims. No. he can’t be dead. 

“You did that. You killed him.” He points in the mirror. Your vision blurs as tears well up in your eyes. He grips your hair tighter as he throws your head forward. Your neck pops, you look down at your knees, tears falling on your pants. 

He can’t be dead. 

You don’t move, you don’t listen to Graves, just let the silent tears come, being the only outlet for the pain in your heart. You never got to tell him you forgave him, you never saw him smile one last time. You never got to tell him you love him. Now he’s gone and that's all your fault.  

Arms grab you pulling you out the chair, you don’t fight them, you don’t have the strength, you don’t care. You expect to be taken back to your cell. Instead you’re taken to another room, a new room. There’s a table and a chair, you sniff looking around as Graves takes you over to the table. 

Another person walks into the room. You see a tray with some tools on it, a bucket with clothes soaking inside. You know where this is going and you don't care. Let them drown you, let them hurt you, you deserve all of this. 

You should have been there, you should have saved him. 

The other man is bigger than Graves, he manhandles you, your body is almost betraying you fighting against their grip. Something deep inside you knows what's about to happen and wants to fight. You end up slipping from Graves grip and falling to your knees. It’s not long before there is another person in the room. More hands on you.

Panic rises in you adrenaline pumping through your veins, your sadness has turned to anger, your fight or flight has kicked in and you’re choosing to fight. You scratch and kick, screaming at the top of your lungs until your throat is sore. It doesn’t matter though there are too many people, you don’t have the energy to fight them, even with the boost of adrenaline.

You’re picked up, your body slammed hard on the metal table, it’s cold, your ankles and wrists are cuffed. You can’t move or fight anymore. You look up watching everyone but graves leave the room. He grips your head pulling it down, it slams hard against the table making your ears ring. 

“I really didn’t want it to turn out like this.” He says, he sounds sympathetic. It’s bullshit. Your breathing is rapid; it feels like you can't breathe, your fingers tingle as Graves leaves your side. You hear the running of a tap, the sloshing of water.  

“How long did you last last time? A day? Two?” The door opens and another person comes in. You don’t bother looking, just stare at the fluorescent light on the ceiling. It stings your already raw eyes. “I bet we can do better.” 

You feel like you can hear a chuckle in his voice. The wet rag comes over your nose and mouth, you flick your eyes back to Graves standing above you. There’s a smile on his face, he’s enjoying this. 

You squeeze your eyes closed wishing you were anywhere else as cold water is poured over your face. 

next

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[wheneverfeasible]

No Obligation (part 1?)

wc: 1.3k || rating: T || tags: omegaverse steddie, post-s4 au, eddie lives, max lives, o!steve, a!eddie, rockstar!eddie, mpreg, oc!kid, friends-with-benefits, second chance love, secret pregnancy, pining || summary: after corroded coffin makes it big, eddie leaves hawkins and never looks back, while steve is unknowingly pregnant with their pup. which might have been fine, had they actually been together.

~

It had broken Steve’s heart when Eddie left.

Which was stupid because it wasn’t like they had even actually been together. They had fooled around a lot, kind of exclusively though they’d never said as such in words, but they weren’t together. They went on what were very obviously dates, though they didn’t acknowledge them as such, and there’d been no courtship. It was just for fun.

When Eddie broke things off, when he left Hawkins because he finally got that chance he had been waiting for and Corroded Coffin had actually landed a record deal, it was amicable. They hadn’t been a thing, they had just been…a placeholder. Just something to pass the time until something better came along.

Except, watching Eddie leave and never look back when his something better came along, Steve realized that he had kind of been hoping for a forever type of deal, been hoping that he could be the something better after all.

It was three and a half weeks after Eddie left that Steve discovered he was pregnant.

Steve knew he should find a doctor, take care of things quietly. He was an unbonded omega; a pregnancy would ruin any and all prospects he had. He’d even had Robin make the appointment for him.

He never went.

He didn’t go to the makeup appointment either.

No one had known about him and Eddie, not officially. Robin obviously knew, he could keep nothing from his soulmate, and he figured Eddie’s bandmates knew, but what had been between them had been a secret. Just two bros helping each other through their cycles, finding release when the stress or nightmares got too much, and that was that.

Eddie made that more than clear. And Steve had started the whole thing in complete agreement.

If only he hadn’t fallen in love with his best friend.

Eddie never visited, like he promised he would. He was too caught up in what was practically overnight success. Being the prime suspect of Satanic ritual serial killings made the metal community perk up in interest, nevermind that he was found to be completely innocent of the charges. It was good publicity. Even his scars enticed fans.

He called, once or twice, but he stopped calling Steve ‘sweetheart’ by then, and it became obvious that Eddie had no intention in ever returning to Hawkins. Not without an obligation.

Steve never wanted to be an obligation again. Didn’t want that for his pup either.

Didn’t want Eddie to feel trapped, didn’t want his pup to feel resented, because Steve knew that Eddie would drop everything to try to be a good father, even if it wasn’t what he wanted. Even if returning to Hawkins would slowly kill him on the inside.

So Steve said nothing.

The pup growing inside his belly wouldn’t be Eddie’s. It was his; just his. Steve wouldn’t ever be able to be the pup’s alpha parent, but he could be enough. He would be enough, because there was no other choice. He would sever all familial connection between the pup and Eddie. Sure, part of him wanted just a little bit of the man he wanted to be his alpha still, but the pup would never be a placeholder like Steve had been.

His pup was his. Not a replacement for the man he couldn’t have. It was his pup and no one else’s. Thus there would never be any obligation.

Especially after Eddie stopped calling. Stopped writing. Stopped…everything.

He still contacted Dustin and the others, he knew. Sent them out tickets for his shows when he played nearby. As his fame and fortune grew, he even flew them out for visits and shows farther away.

Steve had been invited, of course, but Steve was done with being an obligation too. The love was still there, it always would be for Steve, but the friendship mellowed out as they moved on with their lives. After all, what basis did their friendship even have without the trauma that tied them together? Trauma that Eddie obviously wanted to forget.

Seven months after Eddie left, Steve’s son was born.

Steve never resented Eddie for leaving, for never loving him, or for anything else. Though there was no denying the dark curls atop his son’s head, Steve never really thought of the pup as his and Eddie’s. It was his pup. There was no alpha listed on the birth certificate, no talk of the pup’s other parent being gone, no nothing. Steve would never let his pup believe for a second that he was missing anything.

He definitely would not let the pup believe that he had a father out there who didn’t want him. No, as far as everyone else was concerned, Steve wanted a pup so he set out to get one using a donor. Even as the pup grew older, Steve’s eye color in a shape that was not his own, Steve’s cheeks but not his chin, Steve’s moles but not his smile…

Steve never entertained whispers of the kid being anyone else’s but his and his alone.

And what did it matter since Eddie would never know the pup even existed to begin with? Would never know because he was never coming back?

Robin helped, and those closest to him did as well, even when Steve could see that they knew. Even if they didn’t know before, they had to know now. But the pup was his, never an obligation or reluctant duty for anyone else. Never feel even for a second like he was unwanted or unloved.

The first time Wayne saw the pup, a few months after he was born when Steve ran into him at the grocery store, the older alpha had dropped the eggs he was carrying.

Steve made it clear that the sleeping boy was his and his alone, something that Wayne seemed to understand. The alpha still asked to see the pup more, something Steve didn’t have the heart to deny. Not when he saw the way Wayne’s eyes glistened with tears.

Not when the man looked like he had found something he’d lost a long time ago.

And so the pup grew up. It was getting harder and harder to deny the other half of the kid’s genes, of course, not with his curls, or the piercing look in his eyes, or his intelligence he certainly didn’t get from Steve. And then there was the music.

The pup was drawn to music, taking to it like a fish to water.

Thankfully, for Steve’s sanity, the boy didn’t seem interested with the toy guitar Dustin (much to Steve’s consternation) got him, though he did enjoy the drum set Wayne got him for his birthday. Which…was fine, though Steve’s headaches didn’t thank Wayne any.

All in all, Steve was content with his life. As his honorary pups grew up and started their own lives, many going away for college, Steve settled into his life as a single parent, though it wasn’t always easy as an unbonded omega with a young pup.

His parents had, of course, disowned him as soon as he couldn’t hide it any longer. He’d been expecting it, of course, and withdrew as much of his savings as he could without causing them to demand it back.

He’d traded in his car as well for something cheaper and sturdier, moved into Forest Hills in a two bedroom double-wide, and found a job that would employ him in his circumstances. It wasn’t the life he had envisioned for himself as a cocky young man, but it was one he was happy with because it was his. His and his pup’s.

He worked hard to provide for his pup. Steve didn’t need an alpha. Nor did he want one. He had his pup, his friends, and that was all that mattered. He made it on his own and he’d be damned if anyone took that away from him.

Everything was going well. His little one just had his seventh birthday, he had gotten a small raise at work, and Lucas and Max were going to be visiting soon. Things were good.

And then he heard the news: Corroded Coffin was returning to Hawkins, Indiana.

Eddie was coming back.

~

oop, lil bit of a cliffhanger there, sorry. This was just an idea that would not leave me alone until I wrote it out. Which is hilarious because I’m actually not a fan of pregnancy/kid fics in normal circumstances lmao mpreg or otherwise

I may or may not continue this in the future, once I work on my other, currently languishing, WIPs. I do have some more ideas for this though, which bodes well for actually writing more of it lol

Hostage Hotties (open):

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes @hiei-harringtonmunson

[five-rivers]

Smoothie Chapter 1

Started a fic based on this post. Enjoy!

.

The doors of Long Now creaked open in front of Danny, and he walked in, murmuring thanks to Long Now.  The doors closed again behind him, and once they did, Danny could hear the wonderful sound of Observants shrieking for Clockwork to do something emanating from the Viewing Hall.  

He sighed, disappointed.  Most of the time, when he visited Long Now, he didn’t come for any specific purpose, but today he’d hoped to get some help on a history paper (he didn’t even know where to start, and it was a whole ten percent of his grade by itself) and to get a snack (his parents had forgotten to get groceries earlier in the week, and the nearest grocery store had been trashed by a ghost fight, so it was unlikely they’d get any today, either).  With the Observants yelling at him, it didn’t sound like he’d even be able to hang out with Clockwork.  

The Observants would probably throw a fit if they noticed Danny here, too.  He glanced back at the doors, but Long Now had, rather coyly, in Danny’s opinion, not only barred them but maneuvered a pair of large gears and a stout chain over them.  

It looked like Long Now wanted him to stay, anyway.  He looked up.  For some reason, he always felt a little more comfortable addressing the huge clockwork mechanism at the center of the lair as Long Now, even though Long Now was the entire structure around him.  “I don’t suppose you have any snacks I can eat?”

Danny thought he could probably find his way to the kitchen on his own…  But also that it would be a bit rude to wander in and eat Clockwork’s food like that without asking.  If Long Now gave him permission, though…

The gears in the walls moved, sliding open a door on the other side of the entryway.  Danny grinned.  “Thanks!” he said, quietly.  

He followed the movement of gears and chains through narrow hallways until he reached a small, but well-appointed vaguely modern kitchen.  At first, Danny couldn’t see a refrigerator, but then a door swung open invitingly, and Danny realized that Clockwork had a walk-in fridge.  

Cool.  Literally.  

He snickered at his own joke, then stepped up to the doorway.  “It is okay for me to take some of this, right?” he asked.  The door didn’t slam in his face, so he took that as a yes.  He went in.  

Clockwork’s (cavernous) fridge, as it turned out, was as meticulously arranged and organized as the rest of Long Now.  Each kind of food seemed to have its own dedicated and labeled space.  Wandering, Danny read Rampion - Witch’s Garden on the shelf under some salad, Turkish Delight - Charn underneath some odd, long, squarish blocks, and Pomegranates - Stygian Shores.  

He puzzled at the labels for a little while, before he realized that they must be - what did Sam call them? - cultivars.  Cultivars of different kinds of plants.  Ghostly cultivars?  They looked interesting.  Maybe later, he could ask Clockwork if he could bring some to Sam, she liked that sort of thing.  

In the meantime, though…  He looked around at all the fruit on the shelves and a bucket labeled Spirit Ice - Far Frozen and decided.  “I’m going to make a smoothie,” he told Long Now.  

There was a rustle outside the fridge, and Danny peeked out to see that a blender had been deposited on the kitchen counter.  He grinned and went back inside to find his ingredients.  

The ice first, of course.  Then, he needed some fruit.  He started to browse.  What looked good…?  The pomegranates, Sam said they were good for you, and he'd liked them when she gave him some.  Then a bowl of Snow-Ripe Strawberries - Three Dwarves’ Cottage.  The Immortal Peaches - Kunlun looked good.  He'd have to peel and pit them before putting them in the blender, but he'd have to prepare the pomegranates, too, so it wasn't an issue.  Ooh, he wondered how good Orange - Clockwork Nirvana of Mechanus tasted for Clockwork to put his name on it.  Although that might just be a coincidence.  Then, Fairy Apples - Autumn Court rounded out his selection.

That was probably enough to make a decent smoothie, but he’d really like some milk, or maybe a banana, to make it thicker.  He scanned the shelves again.  He hadn’t noticed any bananas, but he was sure he’d seen milk.  There!  Looking Glass Milk - Wonderland.  It even looked like whole milk when he sloshed it back and forth in its glass container, which was better for this kind of thing than skim milk.  

He carried his loot back out to the kitchen proper and pulled out a cutting board and knife so he could get everything prepared before he tossed it in the blender.  He’d wash up as soon as he was done.  

First the ice (a little hard to chip into useable chunks, but his own ice powers helped), then he opened up the pomegranate by cutting off the ends and scoring the sides so he could peel them away (and he didn’t make the kitchen look like a crime scene, so take that, Sam).  He brushed off the seeds into the blender.  They looked kind of cool, the little seeds sifting down between the larger chunks of ice.  Then, he plucked the stems off the strawberries and cut them in quarters before dropping them in (that always made them blend a little better when he was at home).  He decided to juice the oranges, rather than dropping in whole slices, since the skin of the sections might not blend well.  That left the apples, which he cored and cut into little chunks, and the peaches, which he dithered over.  He’d never actually peeled a peach before, but although he didn’t mind the fuzzy outside when he was eating slices, he didn’t want the little hairs in a smoothie.  Eventually, he decided to just go for it.  It didn’t matter how mangled the pieces were before they went into the blender, after all.  Finally, he poured the nice, thick milk over the whole thing, filling in all the nooks and crannies.

Danny made sure the blender lid was securely fastened before he started to pulse it.  He’d made the mistake of not checking once before.  Thankfully, any large kitchen mishaps at home could be blamed on the hot dogs, so he’d gotten out of that without getting in trouble.  

Soon, the contents of the blender were a nice, smooth, thick, pink with a few dots of darker colors here and there.  He found a glass big enough to hold the smoothie in one of Clockwork’s cabinets, then poured it in.  

On the other side of the kitchen, a door creaked open, and Danny, holding the smoothie, investigated.  The room on the other side was the cozy little dining room that Clockwork sometimes served Danny tea in.  

“Thanks,” Danny told Long Now again, before finding a seat.  He’d drink his smoothie here, then clean up the kitchen, and if Clockwork was still arguing with the Observants… well, Danny should probably go home at that point…  He sipped his smoothie.  Oh, that was good.  He took another, deeper gulp. 

The smoothie was very good, in fact.  One of the best he’d made, if he did say so himself.  All of the flavors balanced perfectly, and the temperature and texture were just right.  Although they might not be for someone who wasn’t a cold core ghost.  The good thing about having ice powers was that he never got brain freeze anymore.  

Leisurely, Danny drank his smoothie.  He didn’t trouble himself to drink it very quickly.  He wanted to stay long enough for Clockwork to finish with the Observants.  He at least wanted to say ‘hi.’ 

But by the time he finished the smoothie, Clockwork was still nowhere to be found.  He sighed and carried his empty cup back to the kitchen.  What he really wanted to do was find a comfortable place to curl up in and go straight to food coma land, but he really couldn’t leave Clockwork’s kitchen like that.  

He put the blender in the sink to soak a little (he should have done that before, but he’d forgotten), then washed the cutting board and knife.  There were some crumbs in other parts of the kitchen - and those were not from him - and a few places were dusty, so Danny wiped those down.  Long Now helpfully produced a broom and dustpan, and Danny swept the floors as well.  Then, he went back to the sink and started taking apart the blender.  

The door of the kitchen swung open and Clockwork flew in, shoulders tense and tail flicking with agitation.  He made a beeline directly for Danny.

“Oh, hi!” said Danny, raising the pitcher part blender.  “I was just cleaning up–”

“What did you eat?” asked Clockwork.  He didn’t sound mad, exactly, but there was an urgency in his tone that put Danny immediately on edge.  

“A smoothie?”

“With what in it?”

“Um, some of the stuff from your fridge,” said Danny, gesturing with the blender.  “Some milk, ice, and fruit?”

“What exactly?”

“Um,” said Danny.  “Snow strawberries, eternal peaches, a pomegranate, a clockwork orange, fairy apples, and…  I think that was it?  And the milk and ice.”

“Show me what you took,” said Clockwork.  

“Okay,” said Danny.  “I’m sorry, Long Now opened the door, and I asked if it was okay, I didn’t mean to take stuff you were using later…”

Clockwork’s lips had gone very thin, and Danny could see wrinkles spread out from the corners of his eyes and mouth as he aged forward.  

“Sorry,” Danny said again.  

“It is not your fault, but I must see what it is that you ate.”

Danny nodded and went into the fridge.  He pointed out each place that he’d taken something from, even the ice and milk.  He had gotten some of the names wrong, but he was pretty sure he got everything.  

However, with each thing Danny pointed out, Clockwork looked more and more stressed.  Even when Danny had just taken one fruit out of a whole basket.  

“I’m sorry,” repeated Danny, tapping his fingers together nervously.  He didn’t entirely understand what he’d done wrong, but it was clear he’d screwed up.  “I don’t know these cultivars, but I can get you new fruit from the store or something?”

Clockwork turned to him, face grim.  “These labels are not cultivars.  Rather, they are not only cultivars.  They are the places they come from.  These pomegranates from the River Styx are the brothers and sisters of the one that bound Persephone to Hades for half the year.  The apples are the ones that the fae of the Autumn Court use to trap people in their realm.  The orange carried with it some of the Laws of Mechanus, although I do not know how those will behave exposed to the other fruit.  None of these things were for eating.  They are dangerous and powerful things those Realms have given me as gifts.”

“Oh,” said Danny, feeling very small and stupid.  

Clockwork rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “If the Observants had not blocked me, I never would have allowed Long Now to even show you this room.”

“What’s going to happen to me?” asked Danny.  “Should I try to throw up or something?”

“No,” said Clockwork.  “It is far too late for that.  As for what will happen…  If it were only one or the other of them, then the effects would be clear.  There would even be some precedent for eating one then another.  But when you ate them all at once, all blended together…”  He shook his head.  “Regardless, you cannot be left bound.  We will have to negotiate for your release.”

“Release?” asked Danny, feeling queasy.  

“From the obligations you incurred by eating those things.  Some of them, I think, will not be so difficult.  Others…  There are some things I must put into order before we can leave.  Stay here.  And do not sleep.”

Clockwork left the way he’d come, leaving Danny alone in the kitchen once more.  There was something smug about how the door latched itself.  

“You tricked me,” said Danny, reproachfully.  

The ticking in the walls sounded like giggles.  He didn’t receive any other response.  

With nothing else to do until Clockwork came back, Danny finished washing the blender.  

[lieslab]

Just come home

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Han X gn reader

Summary: Being overweight, you're constantly fighting an internal battle and this time, your boyfriend confronts you.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 2.1K

Eating disorder resources

Trigger warning: Mentions of weight, implied eating disorder, body insecurities, low self-esteem, brief mention of diets, not eating, and meanspo

A/N: I feel like this isn't enough requestee. I literally need to grab your face and physically comfort you. I need to tell you that things will be okay and just because you look a certain way, it doesn't mean people secretly dislike you. The people that really love you will be there no matter what.

Comparison will destroy you in this life if you let it. Love will find you and despite whatever you think, you still deserve to eat good food. That goes for all of you, you are worthy of food, no matter what you look like. Please take care of yourselves <3

_ _ _

In this life, a body is everything. Every shape, every size, and every way the clothes sit. Do they hang or are they tight? Should a body have curves or be thin enough to see the rib cage? To have a body is beautiful, but too many people tend to forget that. 

The comments and whispers from people. The poor self-perception that you drown in when you see the mirror. The way the fat in your body lays in the wrong spots. The stomach that juts out and the flab on the end of your arms that hangs. There is always something and lately, it just felt like you were a victim of your own body. 

Everyone deserves to feel comfortable in their body, but when was the last time that you truly felt valid when you looked in the mirror? When was the last time that you realized the shirt you were wearing was cute? When was the last time you liked the way your face looked when you smiled? The roundness was something to be embraced instead of hated. 

Has there ever been a swell of gentleness within you? Had you ever wrapped yourself in a hug and reminded yourself that you were worthy of things, even when your brain pushed those thoughts away because of the way you looked? If it were anyone else, you’d remind them that they were loved. 

It didn’t matter if there was extra fat upon their hip bones or if their stomach pushed out over their waistline. Nobody deserves to be hated for how they look. Change can always occur and while change happens, people don’t have to hate themselves. They can embrace their flaws and yet, when you looked in the mirror, your flaws were all you could see. 

The way the shirt curled around your stomach. The way your chest looked wrong. Every time you shifted an arm, so much fat shifted with it. Your neck was too big and your face was too round. Your collarbone was invisible and when was the last time you saw it?

Taking photographs and going out, it seemed impossible like this. Insecurities clouded your head and they were all you could think about. You were a painting gone wrong. Your body was flawed and nobody could save you from your internal combustion. 

The numbers on the scale were all you thought about and you were toying with a deadly game. What was the quickest way to lose weight? The easiest? How long could you go without eating? How fast could the scale drop the numbers? You just wanted to shrink. 

Clothes shopping was a nightmare. When you went out and finally found your size, you expected it to fit, but the dressing rooms were always full of tears. Shirts didn’t cover the bottom of your stomach. The fabric was too tight around the top of your arms. 

Pants only went up so far and wouldn’t tug up over your thighs. Maybe you could get them on and just when you thought you had the perfect pair, the button wouldn’t button. The zipper wouldn’t go up any higher and you were left defeated. 

Your body was a tomb and you were a soul waiting on the next one. Maybe the next body would be smaller. Maybe you’d be able to see your collarbone and your wrists would be dainty. You would be able to wear the necklace without the necklace extender. 

In the next life, if you were lucky, your insecurities wouldn’t force you into long sleeves in the uncomfortable heat. You wouldn’t have to hide in baggy pants and oversized t-shirts. Your shape would be something to show off and not something that felt like you had to hide.

They say embrace insecurities, but at this weight, it was impossible. Shame filled your body and your bones. The whispers of doctors warning about higher risks of diseases laced your ears at night. The embarrassment at the doctor’s office when they weighed you steered you away from routine checkups. 

Lately, you couldn’t be bothered to go outside. You pulled away from your friends and the things you tried to enjoy, you couldn’t do it anymore. You were silent about your struggles, but you were crumbling inside. Everything was being torn apart and there was nothing that you could do. 

And lately, your boyfriend was starting to notice it. The first time he noticed you pulling away from a kiss, he thought he did something wrong. A frown sat on Han’s face and he watched you disappear with confusion in his eyes. 

Did he say something wrong? Were you realizing he was flawed? Did he do something that made you feel like you weren’t good enough? 

And then you pulled away from him when the two of you were in bed spooning. You rolled away, mumbling that it was too hot and you didn’t want to cuddle, but the two of you always cuddled. Hurt filled his heart and he mumbled an agreement as he turned his back to you, still wondering what he did wrong. 

The third time, you pulled away from him, the two of you were outside. You were holding hands and heading to a nearby cafe. Occasionally, the two of you would indulge in a sweet treat and an evening walk. That night turned into one of those nights, but you let go of his hand. 

Instead of walking beside him on the sidewalk, you let go of his hand and moved behind him. He reached back for your hand, but you pulled away and mumbled something about how the sidewalk felt too big for the both of you, but he didn’t understand. The two of you always walked side-by-side on the sidewalk, so what was wrong? 

And that’s when he began pulling away from you. He didn’t have the courage to try to ask you what was wrong. He knew it deep down, you probably found someone better. Maybe he was too much and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

Every day that passed, it seemed like the two of you were playing some sort of game. Time was ticking and he was waiting for you to pull the plug. He waited for the call at work and he checked for a break up text, but it never came. 

“Hyung, are you sure they’re not struggling with something?” 

It was Felix that caused him to snap out of his daze at work. He was feeling down and Felix noticed it first. When Han began describing your behavior, Felix began to worry, not about Han, but about you. Han’s behavior had been perfectly normal, but yours was so unlike you. 

Felix’s words haunted his head all day and when he got home, he couldn’t stand it. You were scrolling through your phone when he got home. Desperation hit its peak with you and it took your mentality to the darkest corners of the internet. 

Pinterest boards with skinny bodies and dainty fingers. Faceless photos of people that you wanted to look like. All the outfits you wanted to recreate when you finally reached your goal weight. The hairstyles you’d try and all the trips and adventures you’d indulge in once you were finally camera ready. 

Hundreds and hundreds of meanspo quotes. Every time you thought about cheating on your diet, they appeared in your brain. You were training yourself to deny food, even when your body needed it to survive; a soldier turning the gun on themselves in the front line of a war. 

“We need to talk.” 

Han’s words sent fear vibrating through your body. As you turned off your phone and looked up, your heart sank. He’d finally seen you like you saw yourself, you just knew it. Tonight would be the night he’d pack up his items and leave. 

You sat on the plush couch paralyzed by that fear. You couldn’t speak, so you were forced to listen as he spoke. You held your breath and waited and waited and waited, but it never came. 

“Um, listen.” Han began to pace upon the beige carpet, unable to meet your eyes. “I just want to ask if you’re okay. I-I’m starting to think that maybe I did something wrong and maybe I hurt your feelings somehow.” 

“And if I did, I’m really sorry. It feels like you’re pulling away from me and I-I don’t like that. I love you,” he nervously glanced up and then looked back down. “I love you a lot and if there’s something I can do to fix that, I-” 

“What?” Your voice came out hoarse and your eyes clouded with tears. 

“I don’t know. You just… you just seem like you don’t love me anymore. Over these past two weeks, you seem different and I need to know if it’s me.” He walked over towards you and slumped to his knees. His hands found yours and he gently squeezed them. 

“If it’s me, please tell me what I did. I don’t like the way you’re acting lately. I don’t want to see you so detached and so quiet. I miss you so much.” 

You couldn’t see him as tears fell from your cheeks. You sucked in a deep breath and wiped away your tears. “It’s not you. It’s not that I don’t love you, I swear.” 

“Then what is it?” 

“I don’t love me.” 

“What?” 

“Look at me, Han. Truly and seriously look at me! I look like a whale!” A lump formed in your throat, but you kept going. “How are you not embarrassed to be around me? To be photographed with me? To be seen around me? I’m almost double your size and-” 

His head shook frantically and he squeezed your hands again. “Baby, no. Don’t say that about yourself. Is that how you see yourself? Sweetheart, no.” 

“Shut up!” You snapped angrily. You ripped your hands away and stood up. He jerked backwards and stared at you with wide eyes. 

“Look at me! How can you even love me when I look like this? You should be ashamed of me! I don’t look right! Look at this body!” 

It killed him. Something inside of him broke. Through the ways of the twisted world and through your self-hatred, you couldn’t see how he viewed you. You couldn’t see how much he loved you and it cut his heart straight in two. 

He scrambled to his feet and reached out. Gently, he cupped your cheeks in his hands. “I never want to hear yourself talk about that way ever again. Not a peep. You are one of the most beautiful people that I have ever laid my eyes upon and I will do whatever it takes to make you understand that.” 

“If I didn’t love you, if I didn’t like the way you looked, I’d never be with you.” Your face scrunched up as he went on. “But I’ll always love you. If you choose to lose weight or even if you gain more, I will continue to love you.” 

“We’re in a relationship and your struggles are also my struggles. How many times have you told me that?” His eyes searched yours desperately. He leaned forward and pressed the warmth of his forehead against yours. 

“So why-” His voice cracked. “If you’re struggling with this so much, why didn’t you bring it up? Why did you suffer in silence for so long?” 

“Because I’m so afraid that if you really see me for how I look, you’ll leave,” you finally whispered. 

“Never. I see you every day. I try to hold you every day, but I really haven’t been able to do that for the past two weeks. Do you want the truth? The truth is that I miss you. I miss you so much.” 

“I miss holding your hand and being near you. I miss grabbing your cheeks and gently squishing them as I kiss you. I miss falling asleep to the scent of your shampoo and I miss holding you.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He pulled away, shook his head, and gently wiped away your tears. “Don’t be sorry, just please let me love you. Let me hold you and if you want to cry about this in my arms, go ahead. If you need to scream, do it. Just please, stop shutting me out. I don’t want to lose you.” 

“I don’t deserve you,” you whispered. 

“You’ll always deserve me and so much more. I’ll always want you. I’ll always want your body. Do you know what you are for me? You might be a person, but to me, you’re not just that. Baby, you’re my home.” 

Entirely defeated from the emotional weight of the conversation, you didn’t fight as he tugged you to the couch. He sat down and pulled you on top of him. His arms wrapped around your body and you buried your face into the side of his neck. 

Back where you belonged, he internally reminded himself to text Felix and thank him later. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

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Ko-fi

[mxsticmayhxm]

want a guy who gets into my head and rearranges it without me knowing. someone i really, genuinely trust, maybe someone ive known for years. when i need comfort, i go to him. he always knows the right things to say.

thats why id go to him if i ever broke up with a girl.

and im someone who likes touch— hed know that. im sitting on his bed while hes bent down, brushing my hair behind my ear. hes so sweet, it makes me emotional all over again.

“theres nothing to worry about anymore," he whispers in a low voice, soft on the ears. its easy to listen to, i cant help but lean closer. his hand rests on my cheek.

"im here, hun. you dont have to think about it." its quiet in his room, just the ticking of his alarm on his nightstand, rhythmic in its clicks. soothing to listen to paired with his voice.

"in fact, you dont have to think about anything," he says, staring into my eyes. my head tilts. "we can stay here for a while. you can just relax, i know its all stressful." i find myself nodding. "so, you dont have to think."

"i dont have to think?" he smiles encouragingly.

"thats right. no need to."

"sounds... kinda nice."

"it does, doesnt it?" his hand moves to trace small shapes and circles on my thigh, just barely grazing the surface. "not a care in the world, nothing weighing your mind down. like your mind is a clear blue sky; all the clouds just slip away."

"mmm," i nod again. see, he always knows what to say.

"and since you dont have any thoughts to focus on, all you need to focus on now is your breathing. slowing it down, keeping it deep." my breaths start to follow along, and my eyelids start to get heavy. he gives me another smile as he watches them flutter. "thats alright, you can close them. you could picture that clear blue sky. the warm sun on your skin, making your body and mind melt slowly, dripping down."

dripping down, melting, warm, it all sounded so nice. all i wanted was to follow his voice into that sun, let it... "...envelop me whole, taking away anything left weighing me down." i feel my head slowly fall toward his shoulder, landing in the crook of his neck. his arms wrap around me.

"no girls, no exes, nothing like that here. just you and me. everything else just slips from your mind like they werent even there to begin with."

like they werent even there to begin with.

~~~

i dont remember how long i stayed, but it was dark when i left. i came over the next day-- i had nothing better to do, i knew id just wallow in my room if i was given the chance. i felt like being with him would make me feel better, and next thing i knew, he was welcoming me in through the front door. he already had calm music playing in the background and warm tea set out for both of us. he sat me on the couch and passed over blankets to bundle myself up in before sitting down next to me. we talk for hours. the time just passes me by so quickly.

"i dont know why you only ever dated girls," he said, laughing a bit. i frowned.

"i... ive been a lesbian all my life. ive only ever wanted to date girls."

"well, sure, but nothings ever really lasted, has it?" im taken aback, straightening in my seat a bit.

"im sorry? does that matter?"

"relax." my back fell to the cushions again without thinking. "youve always been so much closer with guys. i dont want to assume anything, but you just get along better with men, isnt that right?” i stare at my mug, feeling his words sit in my mind for a moment. i guess he had a point.

“i guess. doesnt mean ive ever wanted to date them.”

“doesnt mean you arent compatible with them, though,” he grinned, taking a sip of his drink, before looking at you seriously. “i just want you to find the right person. there wasnt any love in your last relationship, you told me so.” i dont really know what hes talking about, but i dont know what to say, so i stay quiet. “i know you. i think a man would be able to love you much better than any girl could. arent you even the least bit curious?”

i couldnt help but admit that, after hearing him ask about it, i kind of was. i nodded.

“maybe after a bit. well see. i need some time.” he nodded and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“its okay, i get it.” he turned to the window, seeing how dark it was. “its pretty late, how about you just rest on the couch? its been an emotional few days. i could make breakfast in the morning.” my head was already lolling to the side at the idea.

“that sounds good. thank you,” i look into his eyes, “really, thank you. this all mean a lot, youre always there for me.”

there was a look in his eyes that i couldnt make out.

“exactly, hun. now,” he passes a pillow, “you rest, and ill wake you in the morning.”

as he left, he changed the music playing in the background to something slower, deeper. it seemed to worm its way into my head quickly. i fell asleep before i could even think about it, feeling him pull the blankets a bit tighter around me.

~~~

i ended up staying for a few days. i didnt know what id do if i left— its not like i had a girlfriend to run to anymore. so i rested at his home, even when he left for work. he always insisted.

“i promise im fine with it, hun,” hed say. “besides, im a good friend. what are good friends for?”

there wasnt much to remember about each day; they passed like syrup or molasses, and trying to think back on what happened felt like wading through the sticky mixture. when he went to work, i listened to the radio he had in the living room— he had a cd rack full of albums by people and bands id never heard of, but each track kept me more and more peaceful. when he came home, time was fluid. it didnt exist.

i was close with him before my breakup, and even closer now. ive found weve gotten closer physically as well, like somethings changed in our friendship. i hug him more, we half cuddle on the couch. ive even started holding his hand every so often. the touch, the connection between us just centers me so well.

his words, too. theyre soft. they find their way into my head and sink into my being somehow. i dont know what hed do without me.

were having a meal in the kitchen. i finished but just wanted to sit with him longer.

“gosh, how long has it been since your breakup?” he asks, bringing a fork to his lips.

i stop for a moment. i try to think. my breakup was…

i dont know. i dont know when my breakup was or how long ago. i dont even know what day or month it is.

“ah, doesnt matter,” he laughs. and suddenly, it didnt matter.

“have you thought more about it all? dating guys?” i played with my hands. i had. a lot.

and it was with him.

i dont know what it was. maybe it was the proximity, or the kindness, or the looks, or an amalgamation of all of it. but when i sat around all day, the only thing on my mind was him.

the warmth he brought when he sat next to me in our deep conversations at night. the soft touches. the smiles he would give me. just thinking about him now had me staring at his hands as he used his utensils. large hands, hands id like to hold, hands that could hold me tight, hands to undress me and suck on and use to—

“well, have you?” he says, breaking me out of my daydreaming.

“uhm. a little bit.”

“a little bit? no, youve been talking about it a lot more recently, isnt that right?”

i shook my head for a moment, trying handle the fuzzy sensation that flooded my brain. it was hard to remember what i was talking about now.

“i know i go on and on about dating guys now, but… i just want to wait for the right one to come along.”

“hmm,” he hums, nodding thoughtfully. “im sure youll find him soon. what kind of guy are you looking for?”

“i dont know, someone who really cares for my needs. when i dated women, they never really understood what i wanted. a man would know best about what i need in a relationship.”

his eyes gleamed at what i had said. i dont know what cued it, though. i was just being honest.

“tell me more.”

“dating men would just be much simpler for me. i cant love a woman, but i can serve a man.”

something didnt seem right, but the thought fell away into the pervasive fuzziness. his eyes looked so beautiful right now, all i could do was stare into them.

“thats right, you can serve a man. did you ever love women to begin with?”

i think back on all my ex girlfriends. i think of our intimacy, our dates, and i feel nothing. i think of what i could have, and all i feel is love for him.

“no. no, i never loved women. i could never be attracted to one. i…” my words drifted off. i was supposed to say something there. what was i supposed to say?

“youre straight, arent you, love?”

oh. that felt different. straight. i found myself starting to grin. straight, i… i was straight.

“im straight.”

“say it again for me.”

“im straight.”

“again.”

“im straight.”

“good,” he says, “good girl.”

my brain melts from my head. theres not much to think of past that.

[lowkeyerror]

I Had To Come Back

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Notes: 1st person, Agnes, a bit of angst, happy ending, part 2 to I Can't Do This Anymore

Summary: After you left Agatha in the middle of her fight with Wanda, you thought you'd be able to move on with your life. However, it was a foolish thought considering how deeply you felt for Agatha. So eventually you find yourself back in Westview looking for her.

An: Been a long time since I've written in 1st person, but wanted to keep it cohesive with part 1. I had to follow up after getting a comment from @dandelions4us only 3 years later but hope you enjoy part 2.

Part 1 | Masterlist

I didn’t think moving on would be simple, but I hoped it would be possible. However, without Agatha by my side life had become incredibly dull. It wasn’t a lack of excitement, but a lack of someone to share it with. After all those centuries together, I didn’t want to share it with anyone except her.

When I left her that day, I knew it had to be done. I did everything for her, but I would never be enough. I never wanted to leave, but a person can only come in second place for so long. Second fiddle to a hunger that would never be satiated.

I thought eventually I’d miss her less. That I would be able to move on from what we had, but that was entirely foolish. A woman as enigmatic as Agatha would always leave a mark on my soul.

I fought the feeling for years, unwilling to give in without trying, but fuck, I missed her. I saw her in everything I did. I could hear her calling to me, reaching for me. It was like she put a spell on me, which she very well could’ve.

I knew the truth, the feeling was all mine, no magic necessary. I still loved her, I needed to find her. I don’t know if she’d take me back, if she could forgive me for leaving, but I just needed to see her.

It was surprise to find her still in Westview. The town looked the same from the outside, but I could sense a difference from the people within. I could feel their eyes on me as I walked through the town.

I hated the way I felt their eyes linger on me. An outsider, or maybe they recognized me, either way it made me uncomfortable.

Going up to the house I used to live in was more challenging than I thought it would be. As I walked towards the house, I felt my heart rate picking up.

Maybe if I kept walking the block she'd eventually make an appearance. I didn't have to knock, I wouldn't have to face her. I just needed to know that she was ok, that would satisfy whatever I was feeling. At least that's what I started telling myself.

“Are you here for her?”

I whipped around at the sound of a voice. It was Herb. It was strange seeing him outside of the illusion Wanda casted, it was safe to assume his name wasn’t even Herb.

“I’m just visiting it won’t be long. Not trying to cause any trouble,” I leveled with him.

“Good luck, she’s been a bit off of her rocker since the whole Wanda thing,” he mentions.

That set off some alarms in my mind, “How so?”

“Sharon said Agnes is really into rom-coms this week. It changes pretty often, but I think rom-coms will be better than last week’s war movie theme.”

I tilt my head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say she created an… immersive experience for herself.”

I still don’t quite get what he means, but the only way to find out is if I check for myself. With a few small words of self-encouragement and a few deep breaths, I head over to the house.

I wait on the porch after ringing the doorbell. It doesn’t take long before the door opens. Agatha opens the door, eyes wide as they land on me.

“It’s you,” she whispers to herself.

“It is,” I say shuffling in my spot.

“Why are you here? You think after all this time I’d let you just waltz back into my life? You left me,” she doesn’t make eye contact with me.

My stare hits the ground, “Please, can we just talk. I know I left, but can you really blame me. I didn’t know if you’d ever care about me like I cared about you.”

She ushers me into the house. Her hands on my wrist cold like they usually were. I let her pull me into the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you’re back here after all these years. What brings you to town?”

My eyebrows crease, “I’m only here for you Ags.”

She shakes her head and laughs about, “You’re silly, be honest why come home now?”

I’m even more confused, “Home?”

She pushes your shoulder lightly, “Yes, goofball, home. Westview, the town we grew up in together.”

Worry begins to fill my body, as pieces begin to form together in my mind, “Ag- Agnes?”

“Yes, hun?”

I can’t help, but reach out and grab her face in my hands.

“Y/n what are you-”

I sush her as I look into her eyes. I search for Agatha behind her eyes, and begin to panic when I can’t see her. I can’t help as tears begin to fall.

“What did she do?”

I can tell Agnes is confused, but she uses one of her hands to hold mine in place.

“What’s wrong doll?”

Instantly I lose my last bit of composure, “I’m sorry I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Forgive me, my love… if I would’ve- I shouldn’t have left, I’m sorry.”

Agnes wraps her arms around me. It’s familiar, but different. She holds me up, and swipes at my tears.

“I have you,” she rubs soothing circles on my back but it only makes me cry harder.

My mind is racing. How was I going to fix this? Magic done by the Scarlet Witch herself. If anything I’d need Agatha to guide me more now than ever. Yet the woman was out of my reach. I hoped she was somewhere buried underneath Agnes, but I had no way of knowing.

I pull away to look at her, “I love you.”

A part of her melts away, “You’re a mess, you don’t mean that.”

“I do Ag-Agnes, I mean it more than you can fathom. I love you more than anything and leaving you… it was my greatest mistake. I’ll never forgive myself for it. I won’t ask you to forgive me, but allow me to make it up to you.”

Agnes rests her forehead against mine. My breath hitches as she looks into my eyes. Her breathing slows and she searches my features. It feels like an eternity passes, but eventually she puts her lips against mine.

I freeze and she almost breaks the kiss, but my arms encircle her. I keep her close allowing myself to indulge in this moment, I don’t deserve.

“I’m just happy you came back,” she speaks.

It almost sounds like Agatha, but you know better. It breaks your heart, but you’re devout. You’re going to fix this, you’re going to bring her back.

Agnes didn't have any push back when I asked to stay with her. She let me in and I got a glimpse into what the neighbors were saying about her… intense interests. I found a way to mitigate them, keeping her somewhere in the nosy neighbor medium.

I didn’t sleep much, spending most of my time in Agatha’s hidden space in the house. There were traces of her everywhere, I could practically feel her. The Darkhold was nowhere to be found, but I did come across Agatha’s old notebooks. They were filled with knowledge themselves.

I was hoping to find anything about breaking the spell she was under. She had books filled with her messy handwriting, nearly impossible for anyone else to decipher. It was different for me, I had been with her when she filled them, I could recall sitting watching her write, sometimes for hours at a time. She was always so dedicated to the craft.

It took a little over 7 months, before I found something useful; an incantation. It seemed too easy, like there should’ve been a catch to it. Yet it was my only source of chance.

“Agnes, I want to try something with you. It’s a little unconventional, but I need you to trust me,” I say, hoping she would agree.

She places a kiss on my cheek, “We’re past all the dramatics hun, you know I trust you.”

I nod, “Ok, you’re going to sit here, and I’m going to say some Latin. That's it.”

“Sound easy enough, sweetheart."

I begin to say the incantation while looking into Agnes’s eyes. I can see her shifting in her seat slightly uncomfortable. I can’t tell if the walls of the house are shaking or if it just feels that way.

“Stop,” she mumbled under her breath, but I don’t.

I keep going, and eventually she stands. She starts peeling off her clothes and I almost advert my eyes, until I see her changing. The different versions of her begin to peel back like layers.

When it’s over she’s naked in the living room. I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. I take a knee, unable to fully stand. It feels like all my power has been removed from my body.

“Agatha,” I call out to her, breathlessly. Though it takes all my effort, I lift my head.

“So, you came crawling back.”

It was her, the real her. I could tell by the harsh tone of her voice.

“Welcome back sweetheart,” I can’t help the laugh that escapes me.

“How long has it been?”

I attempt to stand, but end up falling over, “Fuck.”

Agatha walks over, picking me up and easily placing me on the couch, “Now answer my question.”

“I came about 7 months ago. It’s been nearly 3 years since I left,” I look at her.

It’s surreal, seeing Agatha and not Agnes.

“3 years, I’ve been trapped for 3 years,” she says to herself in disbelief.

“Why'd you come back?”

She meets my eyes and refuse to look away, “For you, Agatha. When I found you, or should I say when I found Agnes, I freaked out. The Darkhold is gone, I did my best. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t apologize. You did the right thing, I mean what good would it me if we were both trapped.”

“What if I didn’t come back?”

Agatha sighs, “Then I would’ve gotten what I deserved.”

I grab her hand, “No one deserves anything like that.”

She snatches her hand out of mine, “Oh please, I bet you enjoyed the time with Agnes.”

I shake my head at her jealousy. It’s a testing move, but I hook my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me, “Agnes was sweet, but she is not the woman I love.”

“The woman you left,” Agatha’s vulnerability shines through.

“The woman I keep coming back to, no matter how much it might hurt me,” I remind her tentatively.

“You deserve more,” she sighs closing her eyes.

I lean in, “I just want you.”

I’m the one who presses my lips to her’s. She doesn’t deny me, caving into her desires. I’m putting everything that I have to give into this kiss. The passion is driving me and Agatha is meeting me every step of the way.

It’s not until my hand grazes against her bare stomach that we both pause, realizing she’s still naked.

“I want you too, more than all of this,” Agatha stares deeply into my eyes.

“You don’t have to choose, it was foolish of me to ask.”

Now it’s Agatha grabbing your hands, “It wasn't, it was reasonable. I had my priorities out of order, you are the most important thing in my life and I'm not willing to lose you again. I love you.”

I kiss the back of her hand, “I love you too.”

The moment we shared was sweet, but it soon was filled with defeat as I noticed my body still felt weak. I could tell something was wrong, I tried to use my magic, but nothing happened.

Agatha uses her powers to dress and they work just fine, yet I could see a remorseful look take over her features.

“Y/n, I think…”

I don’t care to hear the rest, “It’s alright, they always suited you better than me anyway.”

Agatha shakes her, “We can find a way, I can give them back-”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Aggie. I’m fine, it’ll take a little getting used to, but it’s not going to kill me,” I stand with much effort.

I could tell by the look in her eye, that she didn’t believe me, “I stole your powers.”

I roll my eyes, “I gave them to you, and I’d do it again, as long as you’re here with me, I couldn’t care less.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod, “Yes, I’m sure. Now let’s get out of this town, it’s beyond dreadful.”

She takes my hand in hers a mischievous smile on her face, “Anywhere with you, my dear.”

[eternalbuckley]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ WISTERIA VINES. (an aemond targaryen series)

— chapter one: Your Romeo. Your Juliet.

SUMMARY: You and Aemond find out that you got the roles of Romeo and Juliet but didn't know yet about the other one. You only found out that Aemond will be Romeo through a phone call with Helaena. And Aemond got the news about you from his older brother. How do you both react to these news?

word count: 4,415

genre: just some tiny angst i think? | no specified reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings/tropes: modern au, Y/N and they/them pronouns are used a few times, english is not my first language, slightly proofread and edited — if I forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: i'm more than excited to finally share the first chapter of this series. i've been working on this whole project for a while now and i really hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as i enjoy creating it! this will be my last fanfic this year, so i hope you'll have a great start into the new year or had a great start (whenever you're reading this) <3 reblogs, feedback and comments are highly appreciated and welcomed! ♡

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. i don’t give you my permission to use my writing for any ai related things, don’t do it. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

dividers by saradika-graphics

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ navigation | wisteria vines masterlist | main hotg masterlist | series taglist

You nibbled nervously on your nails while you sat on your couch in front of your opened laptop, rocking with your leg as you waited for an e-mail from the production team that produces the ballet show of Romeo and Juliet of the upcoming ballet season. Ever since you’ve first seen a performance of this production, you wanted to be a part of the ballet as well, especially in the role of Juliet. You’ve always dreamed of it and worked hard for your dream.

You’ve already worked with the choreographer before and would love to be able to work with her again. You’ve worked with her on two different productions before; the Nutcracker and Sleeping Beauty. You loved working with her and were fascinated by how she was able to put her visions into reality.

You first got into ballet shortly after you turned five and started having ballet classes. It didn’t fill you with joy in your early stage of being a ballet dancer, you sort of disliked it, but you grew to love the art of this dance over the years. One of the main reasons for falling in love with ballet was a performance you saw with your family in a theatre when you were almost seven years old. You were fascinated by the dancers, the costumes and the whole representation of the stage. It was magical for you and since then, you were determined to get better each day, hoping you’d be as good as the dancers you saw on stage. Eventually, you were allowed to use pointe shoes for the first time when you were thirteen years old – causing you to be the happiest person.

Officially, you have been a professional ballet dancer for a few years now. When you were seventeen, you had the opportunity to be able to dance in a bigger role in a Nutcracker production, which changed you into a better person and was a big step for your ballet career. It was one of your favourite times you’ve ever had, thanks to different people who were involved in the whole process.

“Come on…” You whispered to yourself and refreshed your e-mail inbox for the hundredth time today, hoping there would be an e-mail for the production. You wished there would be a positive message – a message which would tell you that you were a part of the production in the next ballet season. You’d be happy enough to be a part of the production in general, but your main aim was to get cast as Juliet. But after all, you would be happy either way.

You stood up with a sigh and walked into your kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. While you poured the water into your glass, you got a notification on your phone – an e-mail.

‘Casting Results for Romeo and Juliet’

You widened your eyes and immediately sat down your glass on the counter to sprint to your laptop and refresh your inbox to read the e-mail. Your pulse increased and your palms started sweating as your nerves almost exploded. You deeply breathed in, opened the e-mail and read the first lines.

“Hello Y/N,

we are more than happy to tell you that you have been selected as our Juliet for the Romeo and Juliet ballet of the following season. Congratulations!

The complete casting list will be released in the following days. The date for the first rehearsal will be sent to you with the official casting announcement – please make sure you’re prepared for everything!

Until then, relax as much as you can. We’re sure everything will be more than perfect this season! We’re very excited for it.

See you at the first rehearsal,

your production team :)”

You reread the lines multiple times, you couldn’t entirely believe it yet that your dream has just come true. “OH MY GOD!” You happily screamed out loud, jumping on the spot multiple times – you were more than happy. A few tears slipped out of your eyes while you unlocked your phone to call your best friend – Helaena Targaryen. Your hands shook a bit from feeling overwhelmed by the news.

You met her through ballet classes you took together when you were nine and ten years old, and you became best friends very quickly, grew up together and were inseparable. You were thankful to have her at your side. You were there for each other whenever you needed each other and built each other up whenever the other one wasn’t doing well. Especially when Helaena had a knee injury when she was eighteen and sadly had to give up on ballet. She wasn’t doing well mentally and lost her love for it. For a while, she tried to avoid it at every cost after her injury. Even you. You never blamed her for acting the way she did, you understood her. You would probably act the same way if you had to stop the thing you loved because of an injury.

It wasn’t an easy time for Helaena, but over time, she found other interests, and slowly got happier again when she discovered her interest in fashion and designing. It filled her with joy to create her own clothes and bring her ideas to life – it was Helaena’s passion. Being able to design clothes in the way she wanted brought her self-confidence back and gave her a voice. While you thrived in the world of ballet, she thrived in the world of fashion. You support each other in every step and success you’re able to make. Over the years, she had designed your costumes for different performances you were a part of. Seeing you in her creations whenever you danced on stage made her proud. Both of you moved in together shortly after your nineteenth birthday and had been living together for six years by now.

Your phone rang a few times until Helaena eventually appeared on your display. She wasn’t home because she was currently in Winterfell for a design job.

She smiled at you and leaned against the bed headboard in her hotel room. “Hi babe, what’s–“ Helaena began to speak but immediately sat up and gasped as soon as she saw your happy expression, “Did you get a part?!”

You nodded quickly while you walked over to the couch in your living room and sat down cross-legged. “YES! I will be a next Juliet,” you grinned proudly and excitedly while you put your phone against the plant pot that stood on the coffee table.

She clapped, “Oh my god, yes!! Congratulations, babe, you deserve it so so much,” she matched your excitement but then became a bit more serious for a moment, “Wait… Do you already know who your Romeo will be?”

You shook your head, “Not yet, the e-mail said that the complete casting list will be announced soon. I don’t know when, but I hope soon, and I hope it will be someone who’s…” You noticed her serious expression and how she nervously bit down on her lip, “Wait… What do you know?” You furrowed your eyebrows – you were confused.

“Nothing…” She cleared her throat to hide the nervous tone in her voice, but you knew she was lying because she wasn’t looking at you anymore.

“Helaena,” you said warningly, “Tell me what you know?”

She sighed and nodded her head. “Aemond just called me before you did,” she began, and your face faltered for a moment – you knew what this meant, “He will be your Romeo.”

“Oh… Uhh,” you cleared your throat in surprise, “That’s fine. Really. I’m sure it will be fine, I mean… He’s a wonderful dancer, and I adore his passion, but…”

“You’re afraid it will be weird between you? Considering that you’re not together anymore?” She interrupted you without a second thought. Her face showed sympathy as she asked you a question you tried to ignore for yourself.

Your shoulders were slightly slumped, and you nervously bit down on your lower lip. “Yeah,” you nodded slowly and shrugged. “But we’re professionals, and I’m sure we’ll be able to work through it in the next months. I doubt there will be any problems; we ended on good terms. In some way. We agreed to stay friends, remember?” You inhaled and put a few hair strands behind your ears.

“Babe,” she tilted her head, “You two can’t really be in the same room with each other. Every time you stare at each other like two lovesick puppies that obviously still love each other. When was it the last time you actually saw each other?”

You were aware that you and Aemond were extremely professional and wouldn’t let personal feelings ruin any experiences for your careers. But even if you agreed to stay friends and that you wouldn’t let any personal feelings between you, you had to stop dancing with him entirely. The weird tension between you was too heavy after your breakup. You and Aemond used to be dance partners, even before you got into a relationship. You only hoped it would end well.

“I don’t know. It probably has been a few months by now.” With an apprehensive sigh, you leaned against the backrest of your couch and placed a cushion on your lap to play with the fabric. “And besides, the moments you mentioned probably happened shortly after we broke up. I’m sure he and I moved on and can be professional. You know how important our careers are for us.”

Helaena hummed teasingly and nodded her head, “Of course, of course…. I’ll pretend I believe it now.” She chuckled as you rolled your eyes and huffed. If she were here, you’d have thrown the cushion at her. “Whatever! This only means that I’ll finally be able to design another dress for you,” she smiled and clapped excitedly. You chuckled and smiled at her through the screen, her excitement made you happier.

You talked for a few more minutes with her before she had to end the call because she got called by one of her clients. You sighed after the call ended. This was not what you had planned. This was not what you thought would happen. You weren’t exactly sure how to feel about it that you’d be dancing together with Aemond, especially in such a story as Romeo and Juliet. If you were honest, it didn’t bother you that you’d have to dance with him, but you were nervous. More than nervous that something might not work out in the way it should be.

You weren’t lying when you told Helaena that you and Aemond decided to stay friends, but she wasn’t lying either. You barely saw each other or were able to stay in the same room for long without staring at each other when the other one wasn’t looking. There were still feelings between you. Feelings that both of you tried to ignore and deny, even if it was obvious that they were still there. Especially to Helaena – she knew what you and Aemond still felt for each other. She deeply hoped that you would get closer again someday and maybe be honest with yourselves and each other.

You met Aemond and the rest of Helaena’s family when you were having a sleepover at her place for the first time when you were ten – it was like a little celebration of your friendship. During the first years of your friendship with Helaena, you barely talked with Aemond or any of her brothers, you barely knew them, only the things Helaena had told you about back then. The interests were too different, even if Aemond was into ballet and a ballet dancer as well. You couldn’t really find a way to connect with him.

Surprisingly, you had talked with Aegon more than with Aemond, despite the slight age gap. Aegon was like an older brother to you and treated you like a second sister – even if he technically had two already. He was happy to see that Helaena had someone who shared her interests and didn’t judge her for the way she was. You had met the other half of their family only a handful of times so far. Even if everyone tried to be polite with each other as much as they could, you were able to notice the tension between everyone – some had more and some had less tension, but it was there.

But over the years and the older you were, you grew closer to Aemond and became friends. You found interest in each other and realised that both of you had sides inside you that neither of you were aware of. You had been spending more time with him after Helaena had her injury and wasn’t able to dance anymore. Whenever you weren’t with her, you spent your time in the studio with her younger brother. You started to like him more after you got to know each other better. You trusted him, he trusted you. Both of you motivated each other for your dancing and after some time, you tried to dance together, and it was like you were made for each other. Dancing with him always seemed more than easy and the chemistry between you made it even more magical. You supplemented each other, which resulted in both of you being able to dance in a Nutcracker production together when you two were seventeen. It was the start of the best time of your lives.

Both of you were able to turn your hobby into your career and danced together in many productions, even the teams behind every production were mesmerised by the chemistry between you. Many times, you were asked by other dancers if you two were in a relationship – which you had to deny every time. Although, you had a crush on each other, but you never told each other, even if everyone around you seemed to notice the underlying feelings between you.

Especially Helaena noticed it, then and even now, and she loved teasing you about it. Even Daeron and Aegon seemed to notice something after some time. They cracked jokes about it many times before, about how well you’d fit together. Both of them didn’t even notice the glares Aemond gave them or how his and your cheeks heated up. Nevertheless, it took some more time until Aemond got the courage to officially ask you out on a date when you were rehearsing for a production. You didn’t realise in the first place that he was asking you out but once you did, you agreed happily.

You were the one who was able to bring out a happier and more cheerful side of Aemond, one he mostly only shared and barely let out due to different things that had happened in his life. Especially since he was ten years old and got into an incident with his younger nephew and lost his left eye to it. Since then, he has been wearing a prosthetic eye, which brought him his own difficulties from time to time. There had been days when the pain would be unbearable for him, and nothing could help him to ease the pain. Before he had been with you, he wanted to get through this alone and show everyone that he was strong enough, but he slowly let you comfort him and be there for him, the more he trusted you. But even then, there had been days when he pushed you away and wanted to be alone.

In your presence, he was mostly able to forget about his burdens and worries and could feel peaceful because of you. Especially whenever you danced together, he was much calmer and able to forget about his problems during these moments. He may have gotten rude comments about him being a ballet dancer from different people throughout the years, but he paid them no attention. Ballet saved his life in a way only you could understand.

Luckily, your relationship didn’t end because anything negative happened between you. It was rather a decision the two of you had made together almost a year ago, so both of you could focus more on your careers as ballet dancers without any distractions. You had been quite busy with your schedules and barely saw each other that much anymore, given that you and Aemond had to work on different performances and were busy with your training, classes or rehearsals all day. At the time, it was the better decision to part ways and stay friends.

Even if that worked in some way, neither of you wasn’t truly able to move on. Even if you had agreed to stay friends and act normally, it wasn’t easy to see each other afterwards. You kind of grew apart even more and only saw each other rarely. Before and during your relationship, Aemond used to visit you and Helaena a lot, but after your breakup, he rarely stepped into your and Helaena’s apartment. Only if he knew that you weren’t there.

It hurt Helaena to see her younger brother and her best friend growing apart like that, she felt kind of helpless. She didn’t want to get between you, but she understood your decision and tried to be there for each of you as much as she could. Even if it could be difficult for her sometimes – she tried her best, and so did you and Aemond.

After a while of thinking about old memories, you cleared your throat and got up from the couch to distract yourself. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your day thinking about your ex-boyfriend and what you experienced together. You wanted to focus more on being happy that you were finally going to have the opportunity of your life – you were a next Juliet in the ballet world.

You walked into your kitchen and took a sip from the glass you poured yourself before you received the email with the news of the casting. Your phone lit up with a message from Aegon – he congratulated you on getting the part in the production. You smiled and shook your head, Helaena must have texted or called him after her call with her client. You quickly opened the message and replied to him before you started to cook yourself dinner.

Meanwhile, Aemond cut some vegetables for his dinner and was on the phone with Aegon. He just told him that he got the part of Romeo and was more than excited to start the rehearsals – but Aemond didn’t know yet that you were going to be his Juliet. He hoped that the other dancers he’d work with would be as professional as he was.

“How was the first concert, by the way?” Aemond asked his older brother and got a pan out of his kitchen counter – fully unaware that Aegon was texting you.

Aemond furrowed his eyebrows when Aegon remained silent, “Brother?” He placed the pan on the stove and continued to cut the vegetables.

“Hmm? Yeah?” Aegon cleared his throat on the other side of the phone, “Sorry, what did you say?” He changed the position of his body while lying on the couch of his hotel room, a quiet groan leaving his lips as he tried to find a comfortable position.

“Your first concert… How was it?” Aemond repeated his question with a short sigh and added the vegetables to his pan and turned on the stove. But he didn’t get a reply again, which caused him to snap slightly, “Aegon, are you even listening, or what are you so busy with?” Aemond hated it when his brother wasn’t listening or was only half-listening.

“I’m just–“ Aegon paused and thought about his next words for a moment before he continued, “I’m wondering… How does it feel for you to know that you’ll dance with Y/N again?” He furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation.

Aemond stopped his movements, and the grip on his knife tightened with Aegon’s question. “I have no idea what you mean?” He hoped that he just misunderstood Aegon, that it was just some mistake, but how could it be a mistake? Aegon used your name, he must mean you, it could only be you. The words echoed in his mind as he gulped with the consideration that Aegon was telling the truth – that he’d have to dance with you again after everything that happened.

Aegon chuckled nervously. ‘Didn’t he already know that he’d have to dance with Y/N?’ He asked himself and cleared his throat. “I uhh…,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, he couldn’t save himself anymore, “Helaena called me before you did and told me that Y/N got the part of Juliet. And you’ll be Romeo. So… They’re your Juliet. I thought… You already knew.”

Aemond stared at his cutting board, did he hear his brother correctly? You were going to be Juliet? No, he must have misheard something, right? This newfound information caused him to stay quiet for a few moments. He wasn’t sure what to do with that information. On one side, he was happy that he got the part of Romeo, but it meant to dance with you. He felt conflicted about it, he knew that dancing with you always felt magical and easy, but he wasn’t sure how it would be after everything that had happened. Even if it has been a year since the end of your relationship, he didn’t know what to expect. He should’ve expected that this could happen, but he didn’t.

“I certainly didn’t know that at all. I only got the news of my part…. They’ll announce the complete list of dancers soon, but I didn’t know about Y/N.”

“Sorry, I–“

Aemond cut him off and shook his head, even if Aegon wouldn’t see it. “Do you know if they know that we will... You know,” he cleared his throat, he felt somewhat tense, “Dance together?”

“I don’t know, perhaps?” Aegon replied, quite unsure of his answer, “If you already have told our sister about it, then I’m quite sure that Y/N knows too by now.”

Aemond hummed and pursed his lips. Should he text you and congratulate you on getting the part for Juliet, or should he wait until you see each other for rehearsal? But what if you didn’t know yet that he would be your Romeo and that you’d find out because of him? It could be strange. After all, he knew what the whole Romeo and Juliet ballet meant to you, so it wouldn’t be weird to congratulate you for getting the role you always wanted, right? But he wasn’t sure if he should reach out to you after all.

“We’ll talk later. I’ll prepare my dinner now. I’m sure that you… Must prepare for your show tonight. Bye,” he quickly ended the call and let out a desperate sigh. This wasn’t how he thought he’d spend his next months.

You haven’t seen each other in months, how would things be between you two? He was excited about the production if he was thinking about his career, but he was nervous about his personal feelings.

Later that evening, you found yourself sitting on the couch of your living room, one of your favourite blankets wrapped around your body while a movie was playing on the TV in the background. You shivered a bit, even if the room was warmed up by the fireplace. But you weren’t sure if you shivered because you were cold or because you were feeling nervous. You stared at the screen of your phone, eyeing the chat with Aemond – you were considering if you should text him or not. After all, you were about to spend your next months together, almost every day until the last performance at least. It wouldn’t hurt to text him quickly, right? But did he even know about you being his Juliet?

Your thumb hovered over the chat with him, your nerves causing your hands to sweat a bit, and your pulse beat strongly in your ears. It was just a simple text; it shouldn’t be anything you should worry about. But your pulse was still beating strongly, your mind flooded with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Little did you know that Aemond was in the same situation as you while he was lying in his bed. His blanket covered half of his body while only the small lamp on his nightstand brought some light into his bedroom. One arm was placed under his head while he held his phone in his other hand. His thumb hovered over your chat as well. He desperately wanted to text you and let you know how happy he was for you that you were going to be Juliet. He was happy for you, but the thought of dancing with you caused his nerves to hit him deep inside. Aemond rarely felt nervous, but if it involved you? Completely different. You made him feel things no one else could, even after your breakup and not having seen each other in a while. The thought of you increased his pulse immediately.

After some more thinking, both of you tossed your phones away, letting out a long and exasperated sigh. Both of you covered your faces with your hands while your shoulders relaxed. This wouldn’t be easy. If you couldn’t even text each other a simple ‘Congrats’, how should things go when you would dance together? How were you supposed to spend your days together in such intimate moments? You’d have to be close – very close with each other and trust the other one. You were sure you could trust each other, but you were afraid of what else might happen.

And that’s when it hit both of you all of a sudden – he immediately sat up, his shoulders tensed while yours did as well as you both realised what it meant to be dancing as Romeo and Juliet.

You’d probably have to kiss each other.

On stage.

In front of so many people who would watch the performances.

It would most probably be a part of the choreography, and neither of you could change it, even if you could – neither of you wanted it to be changed, either. It is such a delicate moment between the characters and displays the feelings between them – it would be foolish to erase that moment. The next months surely would be interesting.

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part three

I'm the most impatient person I know, so here's another!

Warnings: reader smoking cigarettes, just more case stuff, and as usual their bickering (but also moments of...non-bickering? gasp?)

Morgan finds you outside the precinct, pacing.

“Hey,” he says. “We’re going to get lunch and stop at the school, come on.”

You stop pacing. “Fine. Can we make a pit stop?” You follow Morgan over to the car, yanking the door open.

“Sure,” he shrugs. “Where?”

“Just a gas station,” you reply, pulling yourself into the passenger seat. “I need a fucking cigarette.”

“Uh-uh, woah,” Morgan turns his body toward you. “Since when do you smoke?”

“On and off,” you shrug. “When I’m stressed. Can we go?”

“Yeah.” Morgan turns the key in the ignition. “But cigarettes are the last stop.”

“That’s fine,” you say, trying hard to sound nonchalant, even though you know Morgan sees right through you.

Still, he says nothing, and heads toward Lila’s school.

“Marie’s mom is on the way to the school to pick her up,” Morgan says. “And to be there while we talk to her.”

“Alright,” you reply. “I don’t think Marie knew what was happening.”

“I don’t think she did, but I don’t think she’d say if she did either,” Morgan says, “but I’m hoping something about her behavior will tell us what she doesn’t say.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to talk to her without her mom present?” you suggest. “I mean, at that age, I probably wouldn’t say anything if my mom was in the room.”

“It’s not likely, but we can ask,” Morgan says. “Sometimes the parents surprise us.”

“I don’t think I want any surprises,” you say. “I just want Lila to be home safe.”

“She will be,” Morgan says. “We’ll get her home.”

“I need that optimism,” you tease. “Got any to spare?”

“I have plenty to go around, believe me.”

+++

The middle school freaks you out. It’s so small.

“I haven’t been in a school since I was…in school,” you murmur. “Is it just me, or are the ceilings really low?”

Morgan looks up and laughs. “It’s just you. Come on.”

The two of you flash your badges and the school secretary takes you right in to see the vice principal. The principal is out of town, so not only is the VP doing two jobs, but now she has a missing kid. You introduce yourselves to the frantic, yet somehow collected administrator.

“Thanks so much for letting us come as well,” you say, shaking her hand. “I understand our colleagues, Agent Hotchner and Prentiss, were already here.”

“Yes, very brooding, that man,” she says. “I’m Mrs. Henry, I have our SRO doing another sweep of the campus to see if Lila might be hiding anywhere.”

“I don’t think she’s hiding, Mrs. Henry,” you say.

“But we appreciate the effort,” Morgan adds. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Yes, exactly,” you agree, covering up your quick mouth. It really will get you in deep shit one of these days. “Is Marie Laud here yet?”

“She’s in the counselor’s office,” Mrs. Henry says. “Her mother is on her way, but I can take you to her.”

“Thank you,” you smile.

“And do you mind if I ask you some questions while Agent L/N speaks to Marie?” Morgan says.

“Not at all,” Mrs. Henry shakes her head, grabbing her radio. “Right this way.”

The counselor’s office is just around the corner, and you spot Marie instantly. She’s doing homework by the looks of it, and the counselor is next to her, simply typing on her laptop. Marie doesn’t look closed off, but she’s also not an open book — that much can be told from her willingness to do homework instead of talk.

You observe her from a distance for a while longer, listening to Morgan’s questions.

“Is every door locked at all times in this building?”

“Well, yes, but anyone inside can open them. It would be a fire hazard if no one could get out.”

“I understand,” Morgan nods. “We just want to cover every base. Now, you’re positive she was present this morning?”

“I’ve spoken to the teacher personally, as well as Marie, and yes, Lila was here.”

You turn your head. “Marie is in Lila’s first period?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Henry nods. “They have almost every class together. Their fifth periods are different, but that’s all.”

“Okay,” you reply quietly. “I’m gonna try to talk to her.”

Waiting for Marie’s mom might be the smart thing to do, but you can deal with the mom’s anger later. You worry that Marie will feel judged or like she’s in trouble if her mom is around, especially if she knows something about Lila’s disappearance. 

You walk into the counselor’s office with a warm smile, introducing yourself to the counselor, Ms. Blackwell. 

“Is it alright if I sit?” you ask.

Ms. Blackwell nods. “Of course, go right ahead.” 

Marie’s eyes are glued to her homework, but you see her attempt to look at you through the very top of her peripheral vision.

“Algebra?” you ask. “You’re better at it than I am.” She is blasting through each question. You don’t even know if they’re right, but it looks like they must be. She seems confident. “Is that what class you’re supposed to be in right now?”

It’s tiny, but Marie does nod. She doesn’t look up, but she says, “Me and Lila have it together.”

“Oh, I see,” you murmur. “Did you see Lila this morning?”

Another nod. “Yeah, in homeroom.” Marie pauses, looks up. “That’s first period.”

You chuckle. “I had a homeroom, too.”

Marie looks back at her worksheet. “She just told me she had to go to the bathroom.”

“What was that?” you ask.

The counselor looks dumbfounded. Clearly you’ve gotten more out of Marie than Ms. Blackwell has this entire time.

“Lila said she had to pee,” Marie says again. “We were about to go to second period, but she had to pee. I didn’t wanna be late, so I went to class. She said she’d be there.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Was she really eager to leave? Did it seem urgent?”

Marie nods, looking at you weirdly. “Yeah. I thought she just had to pee really bad or got her period or something.”

“Yeah, I get that,” you reply. “Was she texting anyone?”

“I mean, she had her phone in her hand, but I dunno if she was texting anyone. We usually text in class,” Marie glances guiltily at the counselor.

“I used to pass notes in class, old fashioned texting,” you chuckle. “Did Lila say anything else that was maybe really weird or just something else you remember?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Marie shrugs. “Her book bag looked bigger.”

“Bigger?”

“Yeah, like she had a lot of stuff in it. She usually only has one notebook and her planner, but it was like. Big.”

“Huh,” you comment. “That is odd.”

“Right?” Marie says, looking back at her math. “I asked her why and she said she just felt like bringing her lunch today. It was weird.”

“Does she not normally bring her lunch?”

“Nah, we get the salads in the cafeteria,” Marie says. She tries to solve a math problem, then stops, and looks back up at you. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I hope so,” you murmur. “Hey, if you think of anything, here’s my number.” You hand your card to her. “You can text or call me, any time.”

“Thanks,” Marie says, smiling a little. “Oh, there’s my mom.”

You turn and see Mrs. Laud coming toward you, so you stand. “Mrs. Laud, I’m Agent L/N.”

“Hi,” she says. “Did you speak to Marie?”

“We just finished,” you smile. “I apologize for not waiting for you, but every minute counts.”

“Oh, yes, I understand, that’s no problem,” Mrs. Laud replies, surprising you. You’ll have to tell Morgan. “Is Lila going to be okay? Her mom is so distraught; I just got off the phone with her again.”

“We’re doing everything we can,” you assure her. “My partner and I need to get back, but if you think of anything that might help us,” you hand Mrs. Laud your card, “please, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thank you,” she smiles.

“Of course,” you reply. “Excuse me.”

You head back outside in the hall where Morgan stands, listening to the vice principal ramble. You’re not sure if she’s said anything helpful, but Morgan looks ready to go when he sees you.

Once you’re back in the car, you tell Morgan everything that Marie had to say.

“So she had a bag packed,” Morgan says, coming to the same conclusion as you did. “I wonder if her mom noticed. I feel like you’d notice if your kid suddenly took a lot more with her to school than usual.”

“Lila could’ve had the clothes in her locker,” you suggest. “I don’t think it matters much if the mom noticed or not. The point is, she clearly had a plan.”

“You’re right,” Morgan nods. “We should get lunch and head back. You can call Hotch in the car.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Morgan chuckles. “If y’all are gonna work together, you need to work your shit out.”

“Derek, you have no idea how impossible that is.”

+++

Admittedly, Hotch is shocked to see your name come up on his phone. It still flashes with your old workplace; he needs to change that to BAU. As well as your photo. It’s one he took ten years ago when you first put your number in his contact list. You were glaring at him then, the same way you do now.

“Hello?” Hotch answers, half expecting Morgan’s voice, but he gets yours.

“Hi.” You don’t sound too happy at all to be the one calling him. Hotch wonders if you know the feeling is mutual. “We spoke with Lila’s best friend. Marie said Lila left in a hurry. Said she had to use the bathroom, but Marie didn’t want to be late for class, so she went ahead, thinking Lila would catch up.”

“Did Marie say what time? That must be when Lila left school.”

“Right before second period,” you reply, then add, “which puts it around 9am. The teacher must’ve called roll as soon as the bell rang.” 

“Alright,” Hotch sighs. Unfortunately, this doesn’t tell them much that they didn’t already know, but he supposes confirmation is better than nothing. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Morgan’s voice comes through. “I spoke with the vice principal. She said every door is open for safety reasons. Lila could’ve walked out any of the doors and no one would know. None of them have alarms.”

“And not all of them have cameras,” Hotch fills in. “Garcia has run into a wall. None of the footage shows Lila leaving. We only have her entering school that morning. JJ is going over it with Garcia right now to study her behavior.”

“It’s not looking good, Hotch,” Morgan says.

“I know,” Hotch replies. “Grab lunch and get back here. We need to find her.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you sing.

Hotch sighs deeply, ending the call without a goodbye.

Rossi looks at him with raised eyebrows.

“What?” Hotch asks.

Rossi only shakes his head, looking back at the file he has in his hands. “Nothing.”

+++

“Did you hear that?” Morgan taunts. “Lunch, and high tail it back. No cigarettes, sorry honey.”

“I’ll get some tonight,” you mock him. “I’ll need one to calm me down enough to sleep, anyway.”

“I’m gonna lock you in your room,” Morgan says, turning into a random drive-thru. He sounds a little too serious.

“I’ll jump out the window,” you grin. “Now shut up and order.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Seven hamburgers and fries later, you and Morgan are headed back to the precinct to deliver food.

“Food has arrived,” you announce as you walk into the conference room. “What’s the verdict, boss?” You toss Hotch a hamburger, surprised that he catches it so easily.

He scowls at you, unwrapping it to find you remembered exactly what he likes. Or Morgan did. Probably Morgan.

“Don’t tell me he messed it up,” you groan, seeing Hotch’s frown. He’s grumpier than usual if his food isn’t right, and you have more important things to argue with him about than his damn food. “I gave Morgan every detail. Did you say it wrong?” You take a fry from Morgan’s share out of spite.

“No, it’s right,” Hotch says, still shocked that you remembered and didn’t purposefully order incorrectly just to irritate him. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” you nod, grabbing yours and tossing Spencer his (plain, only ketchup). “How’s the chatroom, Dr. Reid?”

“Interesting, actually, I’ve been comparing Rich’s messages with other texts that we have from a few years ago, and they’re not the same person — unless he’s changed drastically since being in hiding, but I doubt that. People can change how they speak, but not that much, look at this,” Reid forgets all about his food and slides two papers over to you. “See how he talks to Lila here? He lets her think she has made the plans, but that’s not at all how Richard talks; he’s too dominating, and—”

“Kid, kid,” Morgan interrupts. “Eat something, then continue. You need fuel if you’re going to run that fast.”

Puzzled, Reid says, “I’m not running.”

Morgan and Emily laugh, shaking their heads.

“Metaphorically,” Rossi says. 

You nod, pushing his food closer. “Eat up. Then you can run it by me.”

“Oh,” Reid says. “Right, right, that makes sense.”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “Where’s the footage of Lila entering the school?”

“Here,” Hotch says, taking the seat next to you and turning the laptop around toward you. He presses the spacebar and it begins playing.

Lila walked into school, clearly struggling with the weight of her book bag. She looked around, almost paranoid, but then she saw Marie and went right to her. They hugged, talked, put their book bags down as they waited for the bell to ring. It looks normal.

Three minutes later, the bell rang, and the two girls went to class.

Hotch presses the spacebar again, stopping the footage. “That’s it.”

“Damn,” you mutter, swallowing your last bite. You reach over and reverse it, starting the video from the beginning again. “She must’ve had more than clothes in that bag. Look. She can hardly get it up on her shoulders. She’s looking around, social anxiety, maybe? I was the same until I found my friends, like she does when she finds Marie. Then she’s fine. They’re talking, laughing. Marie points to the book bag,” you pause, watching, “but Lila shrugs.”

“We’ve already been over this,” Hotch says. “While you were out with Morgan.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you wave Hotch and his attitude away. “I know. Fresh eyes, isn’t that what you preach?”

Hotch glares at you, but leaves you alone. He stands and walks to the board where pictures of Lila, Richard Monroe, and Lila’s mother are posted. Rossi joins him, the two having some sort of silent back and forth.

Nothing about Lila’s behavior seems overly concerning to you, and that is what worries you.

“Reid, how does Lila sound in the chat room?”

“Calm,” Reid says around a mouthful of fries. “She trusts this Rich person, and clearly thinks it’s her father.”

“Does he ever say that he is?”

“Not exactly,” Reid replies. “He says so in a roundabout way, but not explicitly.“

“So, it’s not Richard Monroe,” you conclude, much to Hotch’s displeasure, which he makes known by his glare. “Can I see the messages?”

Reid hands you the papers, and you tell him to finish his food while you look at them. The kid needs to slow down and eat sometimes.

JJ’s phone rings and she sighs. “More press. Gotta get this.”

“Tell them we have no comment right now,” Hotch says.

JJ only nods, putting on her facade to speak to the reporters.

“They want us to make a statement, don’t they?” Emily asks, and Morgan scoffs, knowing how the media can be.

Hotch nods. “This is going to get out of hand if we don’t find her. Quickly.”

+++

Hotch sends everybody to their respective hotel rooms for a minimum of seven hours of sleep. That is, if anyone falls asleep as soon as they set foot in the door. Otherwise, it’s looking more like five or six hours.

For you, maybe four.

You take a walk next door to the gas station, grabbing a pack of cigarettes against Morgan’s better wishes. He’s not here to stop you, and he’s probably snoring by now anyway.

Besides, you need something if you’re going to make it through a case like this.

Why did this have to be your first with the BAU? Couldn’t you get something lighter? A regular, run of the mill serial killer?

Now you have to deal with memories resurfacing, and hiding that from the rest of the team, who is probably profiling you every second they can just because you’re new. Or at least Hotch is. He’s never stopped profiling you. You wonder if it’s exhausting for him. 

You ponder the thought, and many others, as you step out onto the balcony from your hotel room.

Hotch… He really hasn’t changed. You think you have, but then again, a lot has happened to you in the past ten years. 

A lot has happened to him, apparently, too. He doesn’t wear a wedding ring anymore.

Not that that’s any of your business, but you noticed. You thought he and his wife were happy when you first met him. High school sweethearts, too. It seemed blissfully perfect. Must not have been true.

Whether or not he’s broken up about it, you can’t tell. He’s always had that damn frown on his face, even back when he was (allegedly) a happy husband. 

You scoff as you bring out your lighter. He’s a mystery. An annoying bastard, sure, but mostly a mystery.

The first inhale after a long time is the hardest, yet the most relieving, too. You can practically feel your shoulders drop in relaxation, something they haven’t done in a while.

“You shouldn’t smoke.”

“JESUS fucking Christ,” you shout, dropping your cigarette and stepping on it by accident. Thank god you put on shoes, or else that would’ve burned like a bitch. You turn your head toward Hotch’s voice, finding him sitting on the balcony next door, his feet propped on the little table. He’s without his jacket and tie now, and his dress shirt is unbuttoned three down. “Seriously?”

“What?” he replies, looking straight ahead, out at the horizon, not at you. “It’s bad for your lungs. Don’t you have asthma?”

“Sometimes,” you mutter, annoyed that he remembered. It only acts up when you do smoke, but that’s not his business. You light another and take an even longer drag. “What are you doing out here?”

“Same as you,” he says, threading his fingers together over his lap. “Sans cigarettes.”

“I’ll give one up if you’d like,” you say, knowing he won’t take it.

He doesn’t budge. “No, thank you.”

As weird as it sounds, this might be the nicest conversation the two of you have ever had.

“Suit yourself,” you shrug, taking another drag. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” he says. “I probably won’t until we find this girl.”

“You used to sleep.”

He turns his head toward you. The moonlight highlights his features. His cheekbones, his nose. “Pardon?”

“You used to be able to sleep,” you repeat. “At least for a few hours. Did you develop insomnia while I was gone?”

“No,” he deadpans, turning to look straight ahead again. “What about you?”

“Sometimes I just don’t sleep,” you shrug. It’s not entirely the truth, but not entirely a lie, either. You would be sleeping right now if it weren’t for the nature of this case. If it weren’t so close to the hell of a childhood you lived through.

“Will you be able to work tomorrow?” he asks, sounding accusatory.

“Yes, Agent Hotchner,” you scoff. “I’ll be able to work tomorrow. Will you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he echoes, taking his feet down and standing. “Get some sleep.”

You roll your eyes. “Good night.”

He disappears into his room and closes the curtains. You blow smoke in his direction anyway, watching it cloud your view of his room.

[kasagia]

I love you... I am sorry II

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!witch! reader

Summary: You and Aleksander talk, scratching open old wounds from the past, you come to the conclusion that some things are simply a lost cause.

Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~Main Masterlist

~•♤♤♤•~ Part 1 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 3 ~•♤♤♤•~

"Do you think I'll tell you what to do by moving soldier figures around on the map without any logic?"

"I know you, Aleksander. Eventually you'll crack and arrange those wooden soldiers the way they need to be on this map to win this battle. Give me two hours, and I'll make you so annoyed that you will do whatever it takes to get rid of me." You respond teasingly, playing with the pawns on the Ravka map in front of his cell door.

A few days had passed since your first meeting after years. During that time, you had managed to discover exactly what changes had taken place in Aleksander.

He was apathetic, not paying attention to those around him. You had been watching from hiding as Alina and Baghra tried to talk to him, but he clearly showed no interest in Ravka's fate. And worst—Grisha. Or at least he pretended not to care. You had to find out why.

Luckily, you and Ulla were able to stir up… a lot more emotion in him than those two hags. Even if it was just irritation, it was still a greater success than Alina or Baghra could achieve. Or at least that's what Baghra told you.

"Since when have you been friends with my mother?" He asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You lazily move the figurine representing Grisha's troop to the pass between Ravka and Fjerda. With your ability to read the Shadow Summoner, you immediately notice the slight twitch at the corners of his eyes. A shitty place then. You move the figurine to a different spot and, seeing no disapproving little reaction from him, you leave it there.

"Since when did you become a pain in the ass?" You reply with a cute little smirk, grinning when you see his annoyed expression.

You pull away from your poor reenactment of battle and lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. You watch him carefully, keeping your poker face on as he analyses you too. Talking to him was like playing chess. You had to know when you could afford to lose your pawns.

"You never really said why you are here." He starts, stepping a little closer to you. Like a vulture slowly circling its prey. You liked him in his analytical hunter mode. He was so absurdly sexy…

"I don't have to explain myself to you. You are not my man or something." You scoff, glancing out of the corner of your eye at his reaction. The clench of his jaw might have gone unnoticed if you didn't know him any better, but the way he clenched his fist and hid it behind his back didn't. You pissed him off. Good.

"I am not." He only agrees coolly, this time being the one to stick the needle in your side. Bloody bastard.

"Alina wants to take me north. You know... to help calm down a situation with Fjerda by using my powers." You tell him, leaning back in your chair. You reach for the pendant around your neck and play with the glass heart, looking at him as intently as he does you.

"Have you become her errand dog?"

"Please... do you truly think so little of me?" You snort in amusement, but your mockery dies when he says nothing in response to your words. Bad move. Of course he thinks so little of you since your stormy breakup. "You don't have to answer. No. I am not going to help your little saint or queen or whatever you wish to call her with the war you wanted to prevent. No matter how dramatic the measures you resorted to, at least Ravka would not now have to deal with the united forces of Shu-Han and Fjerda. And as you could notice in the centuries we spent together, I do not support idiots and ignorants like your dear Alina."

"So you are here to say that you see my point of view, and actually you want to take my side? Perhaps you are even jealous of my 'relationship' with the Sun Summoner?" He mocks you as he approaches the bars.

You stand up furiously from your seat and approach him too, seeing only the red fire of your rage as he dares to throw your jealousy in your face.

"No. I came here to see you writhing in this cage, irritated and eager to take some action, maybe even plotting some king's slaughter. I didn't expect to be left with a boring shell of who you used to be."

"I am terribly sorry if I disappointed your expectations. Do you see now how it feels on the other side of your own treatment?"

You stare at each other for a long moment, both of you seething with anger, resentment, and bitterness built up over years of you ignoring him and running away from him and his distrust and anger towards you.

"We broke up."

"Indeed we did."

"Then why did you come back to it?"

"And why did you come back now?" You shiver at his words and pull away from him. You try desperately to maintain your neutral posture, but it becomes an increasingly difficult task as he hits all the right spots.

"Your girl ruined my peace with the war that shouldn't have happened and wouldn't have if you were in power. I couldn't stay any longer in my hiding place. Even if I wished so. I had to come and clean up your mess."

"Alina is more than you care to think about her. Much more." His words hurt you, but you know they were the best answer to your lie. After all, nothing connected you anymore. It was logical that he would defend his Sun Summoner. His little damn Sankta.

"I don't care what she is. But order your little minions once more to put me to sleep, or do anything against my will, and I promise you, Aleksander, you will remember why it's not worth teasing me."

"I remember the times you loved my teasing." He replies with a small cocky grin. And you don't know what you want to do more, punch him in the face or kiss him for being so frustratingly, irritatingly absurdly handsome.

"Don't recall them if you despise them so much."

"Why? Because you regret what you have done? Because you realise how terrible a mistake you made. Because you want back what you lost ages ago? Because you know that we could have so much more if it weren't for your selfish actions?"

"How dare you, you demon from the woods..." You growl at him furiously and step closer to the bars, tightening your hands on them in an attempt to vent your anger on him.

"I am. You shall never forget this, witch without a coven."

"And who is the reason I don't have one?" Your words ignite a fury so hot and great that he presses his body against the bars as well. You stare furiously into each other's eyes, and you know that if his power were not in bondage, the room would be filled with his shadows right now.

"I never asked you for anything or for sacrificing anything for me. What you did for me then... it didn't matter when you did this only because you felt guilty. Not after what you did TO me."

"But you asked me once to stay with you. No matter what. Remember?" You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, summoning old, distant memories. And even though centuries had passed since those events… It didn't mean it hurt any less with the passage of time.

"How convenient for you to keep only those promises that suit you. Now I'd appreciate it even more if you'd disappear for good. Or rotted in some nameless grave." You slam your hand against the bars, making him shiver in surprise at your sudden outburst.

You feel your power tingling under your skin, begging to be released and unloaded on him, but unfortunately, the last thing your stupid heart wants to do is hurt that big, stubborn idiot. So while your heart is busy calming your wild power, your wounded pride takes over and controls your mouth, providing a perhaps more painful weapon than your magic.

"Fuck off, Aleksander. You can get rid of every little reminder of your past, but you'll never get rid of me. We're too deeply connected with each other, and you damn well know it. You'll see me forever, everywhere, in every fucking breeze, the scent of flowers, and the glow of crystals. And you know how I know that? Because despite all these centuries of you being far away, I still see you in every fucking corner. In every dream, in every place, in every little memory of the past I recall. I feel you with every breath, every blink, every little touch—exactly in the places you used to cherish my skin. You've tainted everything I know and love. We are a scourge to each other and always will be. And until Ravka becomes a relatively safe place to live again, we are both condemned to each other's company."

"There is a very simple solution to all of this." He says and looks at the heart-shaped pendant hanging around your neck. You swallow hard and catch it tightly in your hand, protecting it from his gaze. "Haven't you ever thought about that? To cut yourself off from this for good? From me? You can finally be free. Maybe you'll even find your peace?"

"There is no peace for me. And neither for you." You see that your words have caused some internal stirring in his conscience.

He hesitantly places his hand on yours and takes your chin in his hand—the one on which he has a black scar from the amplifier with which he connected with Alina. You hold your breath as he strokes the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb, staring at you intently, too mesmerised by his sudden closeness and tenderness from him after centuries apart to listen to your better judgement and pull away. You cling to him blindly. You fall into the trap of his dark eyes as you drown in his touch.

"I'm tired of fighting, Y/N. I will find peace. Even if it means losing the lives of thousands of others."

"Even my life?"

"We both know that your death would be my salvation." You smile bitterly and snort as if he's just told a funny joke. But in reality, you're doing everything in your power to keep the tears from falling from your eyes.

"Same here." You mumble, focusing your gaze on the black scar on his hand instead of his eyes, afraid his dark depths will somehow see through your lies.

You hold your breath as he grabs your chin tightly and forces you to look into his eyes. His fingers dig into your skin unpleasantly, but you don't care. You're drowning in his angry, hurtful, resentful gaze, unable to move an inch.

"Ex-lovers quarreling? Should I just go out and wait until Mom and Dad make up?" Ulla's sudden intrusion makes us both recoil from each other as if burned. You clear your throat and glare at the black-haired one madly.

"Don't call me that. I am not old like that hag who gave birth to you."

"You are talking about my mother."

"Mother, you hate, as I would like to point out. Actually, I start to wonder if there is anyone who didn't deserve your wrath, my dark general." You scoff at his remark, knowing full well that his relationship with Baghra has only worsened since you left. With a little unwanted help from you…

"In case you haven't noticed, all those dear to my heart that I came to dislike have a tendency to betray me."

"In case you haven't noticed, they may not be cheating on you, but doing what's best for you, you stubborn, damn, proud fool who can't see beyond the tip of his own dick!"

In your anger at him, you step too close to the bars, giving him the perfect opportunity to grab you by the neck. And he does. You gasp in surprise and instinctively reach for the pendant around your neck, holding the glass heart in his secure grip. Aleksander wraps his other hand around yours, trying to squeeze it hard enough to break the glass heart you try so hard to protect.

You gasp, struggling to take even one short breath, and look him straight in the eye as you mumble the words of the spell with the last of your strength. Aleksander hisses in pain and releases his grip on your necklace, but he still holds you tightly by the neck to the point where you know he'll leave bruises in the shape of his hand and fingers... which doesn't bother you as much as it should...

"Okay, stop! Both of you!" Ulla walks over to the two of you. Aleksander shifts his gaze from you to her for a moment. You feel his hand on your throat tremble as he considers letting you go. "Sasha, let her go. Before you do something entirely stupid that you will regret."

Aleksander hesitates for a few moments, then lets you go. You don't give him the satisfaction of moving away from him. You take a few deep breaths, staring at him with a hateful, cold gaze that he stubbornly avoids by looking at his sister.

"Torment me again, and I promise Ivan will put you to sleep for a thousand years." He mutters his empty threat without even looking at you, which gives you reason enough to decide you'd rather fucking die than give him the last word in this little argument between the two of you.

"If you wanted me to be your sleeping beauty and you to be my prince, all you had to do was ask, Aleksander." You mock him, and he moves to grab you painfully by the throat again. But before you can respond with one of your curses, Ulla steps between the two of you and gives you both a disappointed, irritated look.

"Y/N! That's enough for today."

"I didn't start…"

"Y/N!"

"Fine! Got it. I am on my way." You raise your hands and walk out of the barred room, but not before sticking your tongue out at Aleksander—something that escapes Ulla's watchful eye because her back is turned to you.

And as you leave, you wonder how the hell you're supposed to get this dense, stubborn asshole to cooperate when he clearly still despises your insides as much as he did all those centuries ago.

"Is that what you call taming him?"

You sigh and stop in your tracks on your way to your rooms. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, cursing the name of every saint you know under your breath before turning to the person you hate most in the world with a fake smile.

"Baghra. I wish I had the mood and time to talk to you. Unfortunately, I don't have the former, and I'd rather spend the latter on something else. Have a nice night." You turn on your heel, intending to make a quick escape, but the woman summons her shadows, blocking your path. You sigh, tired of dealing with another Morozova, and face Baghra again.

"Your methods don't work." You almost growl at the pretentious tone in her voice. She expected you to work a miracle, knowing full well what her son was like… and knowing full well why he was as hostile towards you as he was.

"Did you really think he'd just follow me and hang on every word I say? He's not some fucking puppet you can order around. He needs to trust me again. At least when it comes to saving Ravka and Grisha."

"Well, it seems like he won't come to it so soon. I thought you had a little more influence on him. Maybe you actually broke his naive little heart?"

The silence that follows her words is like a slap in the face to your pride. You can barely push back the unbidden tears, and it takes a huge amount of effort to control yourself when Baghra is giving you her infamous mocking smile. The old woman had the irritating ability to scratch open wounds that you thought had long since healed. Besides, she knew perfectly well what, or rather who, your only sweet spot was.

"Then I did exactly what you wanted, right?" You ask; he winces a little when he hears the slight tremor in your voice. Damn witch.

"I told him to stay away from you. But the stupid boy didn't listen; he loved you so much. Witches like you, wielding such power... you're all the same. You have no feelings. Self-absorbed, wanting to live forever. Tell me, Y/N, what did you need your eternity for? Was it worth it to fight for? Has it paid off for you to deceive my stupid son for so many centuries?"

"Without Aleksander by my side? No. But at least I can keep an eye on him. At least I can make sure that he will survive long enough to get his happy ending. And torment you forever. Until the end of time, my dear mother-in-law. Or your death. I personally prefer this one." You give her a contemptuous look and turn away from her, walking into the darkness of her shadows to reach your rooms and escape, just for a while, from feelings of guilt, helplessness, and wrath that the damned Morozovas have aroused in you.

"What do you mean by mother-in-law?" Baghra asks, confounded, but fortunately she doesn't follow you. She's everything but dumb. She won't expose herself to possible harm as a result of you unleashing your wild power.

"Ask your son!" You shout over your shoulder, not stopping for a moment.

You know perfectly well that a minute longer in Baghr's company would make you cry. And you promised yourself that this old witch would never be the reason for your despair again… her son was another matter.

So when you get to your room, you wave your hand over the windows to close the curtain with your magic, turn off all the lights, and let yourself curl up on your bed. You sob quietly, lying on your side, legs drawn up as you grip the necklace tightly in your hand and let yourself have a much-needed crying session. Your head spins as your power slides through you, causing storms outside. And you can only hope that Ulla is keeping Aleksander busy enough that he doesn't see the rain your crying has caused. The last thing you need is to show him how much you still care.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" You shiver as Aleksander wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your bare shoulder. His light stubble pricks your skin, but you don’t care, too fascinated by the rings on your joined hands.

"About 10 times, but who's counting?" You mumble and turn around in his arms. A smile creeps onto your face as you gently cup his cheek in your hand. "Husband. That's weird."

"Weird? Why?" He asks, frowning at you in confusion. Yet his grip on you doesn't loosen at all; if anything, he tightens it, protectively wrapping himself around you, as if his touch alone would be enough of an anchor for your raging thoughts.

"I can't believe that such a handsome and powerful man is mine. Only mine." You whisper and press your lips to his cheek.

You smile, feeling his breathing quicken slightly, and you start to feel his familiar, comforting scent surrounding you. And warmth. Which was pretty important, considering you were in a cold, damp, abandoned cabin in the woods. All alone, out of nowhere. You wouldn't trade that honeymoon for anything.

"I was yours long before we exchanged those rings. And I will be yours long after today. For as long as my heart beats and beyond. You are a part of my soul, connected to me by a force I cannot fathom. And I am grateful for anything or anyone that bound us together, that brought you on my path."

"You can't promise me things like that. You don't know what the future will bring." You mumble, panting as he begins to press kisses into your neck. You sigh and tug on his hair as he bites into you. You decide that the beard is a rather… nice new accessory. Especially when it teases your skin so nicely.

"But I can promise you today. And then tomorrow. And the day after that. And so on and so forth, until all eternity."

“Assuming we have forever.” You moan, intoxicated by both his words and the caresses of his lips and hands as he slowly removes your dress.

"I will fight with everything I have to always have you by my side." He promises fervently, cupping both of your cheeks and placing a hot kiss on your lips that instantly warms your insides. You smile as he pushes you onto the bed.

"Even with your mother?" You tease him and raise a questioning eyebrow at him. You almost break and snort at his hurt expression.

"I'm offended that my mother even crosses your mind in this situation, let alone that you're brave enough to talk about her." He mutters menacingly and reaches for your sides.

Before you can react, he's tickling you, attacking all your weak points. You laugh and squirm beneath him, screaming at him and cursing him to stop, but he just laughs and redoubles his efforts. And as much as you can't breathe anymore and are almost crying from his teasing, you enjoy his wicked, carefree laughter.

“Mercy! Mercy!” You cry out with laughter, and he finally takes pity on you. You laugh some more, recovering as he simply hovers over you and looks at you, drinking in your dishevelled appearance beneath him. “What?” You gasp, breathing deeply and wiping tears from the corners of your eyes.

“Nothing. I love you,” he says and shrugs. Your heart clenches and warms at his words, and another wave of tears nearly fills your eyes as he reaches for your hand with the silver claw ring he placed there just an hour ago.

“I love you too. More than anything.” You mumble, grabbing the glass heart that dangles from his necklace—your wedding gift to him—and pulling him to you, connecting your lips in a needy, heated kiss.

You would give away all the treasures in the world to have back that ring on your finger instead of the heavy pendant on your neck that felt like a muzzle for you. The muzzle of your eternal sin against Aleksander and you both.

"You again?" You allow yourself to roll your eyes when you enter his cell a few days later, which he greets with his mocking smile and cold gaze. He frowns, however, when this time, instead of sitting in the chair like you always did, you walk over to the bars separating him from you.

"Do not worry. I won't bother you much longer. Actually, I came to say goodbye."

You say and hand him a small box through the bars. You wait patiently for him to come over and take it from you, but his wounded pride apparently won't let him do even that. You roll your eyes as he turns his back to you and shifts his gaze to the book in his hands.

"Goodbye? That's not really in your style. Since when do you say goodbye instead of disappearing into obscurity?" He mocks you without even bothering to look at you. You swallow and nod, only now realising just how deep his resentment of you runs. But you don't have the strength to fight him any longer.

"Well, I learnt that from you, but since we're not together anymore, I guess I'm ditching your habits for some new ones."

Over the centuries, you and Aleksander have gotten back together and broken up a million times. You let him come back into your life as if he had never ripped your heart out and taken it with him countless times. Each time he was leaving, he put his plan into action to ensure that Grisha was safe from whatever enemy they currently had. He was choosing the good of his people over yours.

Every grand plan that was supposed to end with the restoration of freedom for Grisha usually ended in failure. And every time, he came back to you. To your arms. To hide there from the world, lick his wounds, and hide his shadows in the safety of your home.

But just as suddenly as he came, he left you. All for Grisha. His whole life was dedicated to ensuring a better fate for his people than he had as a child. And so he ended up in a cell. Alone. Maybe not completely. You knew he had many supporters in the 'underground.' But what good were supporters when he had no one to stand by his side? Supported through thick and thin?

On the other hand… you never joined him in his plans. You always stuck to your own woods and paths… it was pure fate that for a time you both followed the same one.

"Well, I'm actually glad about that. I should have noticed sooner that you're just like everyone else. The greatest liar among liars. A witch without a coven that no one ever trusted or wanted to be near."

You give him a small smile, perfectly keeping your true emotions from surfacing. You drop the box and let your magic transport it to the table he's sitting at. With a quick wave of your hand, you make the box clatter loudly against the wooden table.

Luckily, that catches his attention enough for him to finally look at you.

"You want to talk about liars and cheaters? Go ahead. There's a big war coming. You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. Alina and Nikolai won't let the Fjerda get away with invading their lands and killing Grisha like they used to do and still do. So why do you pretend it doesn't bother you? That it doesn't concern you? Why do you sit here obediently and do nothing when we both know you have the means to escape? Who are you trying to convince that you don't care anymore about your people, us, or yourself?"

This time, you are the one to look away from him. You don't wait for his response and just move away from him. You walk over to the part of his bookcase that wasn't behind bars, running your finger over the titles on them.

"And who is us?" A shiver runs through your body, and you thank yourself for keeping your back to him. You don't know what he would read on your face as you say your next words.

"Ulla. Me. People that really care about you."

"You left me." He points out stubbornly again, as if you didn't know what you had done against him.

But the truth was that you had both hurt each other equally. It was just easier for him to blame you than for you. Or maybe your guilt against him was actually greater than whatever he did behind your back...

"You didn't mourn my leaving much."

"Maybe I mourned too many in my life to add you to this list?"

When you finally find the book you were looking for, you take it and turn to face him. He steps towards the bars, his hand around one and his gaze fixed on you. You can barely hold back a small smile as you see his shadows hovering in the corners of his cell.

"Believe what you want… but not everything was a lie between us, Aleksander. And you've had your fair share of lies for me, before I've even considered doing what you hate me for. Does the fact that you managed to tell me your lies before Baghra reported my secrets to you make any difference? You and I... we are similar. I am a witch without a coven, and you are a Grisha without an order. We are both alone in this world. But I admired the fact that you continued to fight, even when everyone else was against you. You may have been a villain in everyone else's story, but you've always been a hero in mine. In Ulla's. We admired you for what you were, for the strong leader who would do anything for his family and people. And who are you now?"

"I am the man your lies and manipulation created. All of yours. My mother's, Alina's, yours. So don't you dare stay here and say that I am meant to be something more when you stabbed me in my back and left when I needed you the most."

"You hated me then."

"And what gives you the impression that I still don't?" That I didn't need you even when I was furious with you?"

"I..." You're at a loss for words. You have no idea how to answer him, especially when the stormy blackness of his eyes overwhelms you as much as his words.

He couldn't mean them, could he? He couldn't be mad that you left him. He had to play with you… There was no way he'd want you around after you'd supposedly betrayed him.

You snort and shake your head at his words. No. You won't let him enter your mind and manipulate you. Although… You can't say your heart has shifted indifferently at the revelation he's told you. Because what if he really needed you by his side? What if… he loved you more than he hated you?

"It doesn't matter. Say what you want or get out." Well, his words only prove that you are right about this. And they reassure you in the decision you want to make.

"I'm going north with Alina. You can either join us or rot here. And to be honest, I don't care anymore. I was never your enemy, Aleksander. But if you so desperately need one, then all right. Make me your villain. But know that everything I did, I did for you. For us. Even if I hurt you in my desperate attempts to protect you, for which I do not intend to apologize. Everything I did, I did for us, for you. But maybe it really is time to change things between us once and for all."

After your words, you take a few seconds to look at him. Your gaze lazily follows his dark hair, his eyes, the set of his jaw. Without a word, you nod to him and leave, as if saying goodbye for the very last time.

"Protect me from what?" You hear him walk over to the table and open the package in a hurry. Then he freezes when he sees the familiar object you've placed there. "Y/N?! Answer me! Y/N!" He shouts after you, banging on the metal bars, but you don't spare him a second glance. You just walk out of there, hoping your little trick will work.

Because if he won't follow you to war after you give him a necklace with his blood—the same blood you tricked him into taking and enchanting to give you immortality—then you don't know what'll get him out of that stupid cell.

Taglist (I hope that everyone who wanted to be there are there. If not, I am soooooooooo soooo sorry): @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat @barnes70stark

@zeeader @the-desilittle-bird

@thepassionatereader @budugu

@sinistersnakey @diaries-of-a-hopelessromantic

@aryhyuuga

@oh-thats-cute

@meadows5

[justabeewithapen]

i bet Chiquitita grew up not being able to do any general roughhousing because of his condition </3 but now the kids are helping him get caught up with important childhood milestones such as: climbing and falling out of trees, hitting each other with sticks, running with sharp objects, mudball fights, and other common child deathgames! poor Mr Shrimp is having a rough time adjusting

(And some close ups)

I have so many thoughts on this ask, I am so sorry XD

Firstly, Mr. Shrimp is 1000% having a rough time adjusting, and for very good reason. While we don't know what Chiquitita has (and I tried to do some research to get a rough idea of this sort of thing in humans) we for sure know he has to be anemic to some degree--or whatever their species's version of that would be. Before they had a consistent source of blood transfusions I am sure that Chiquitita was practically bed ridden at times, frequent blood loss makes it hard to do anything without getting woozy and sick. Now that they have that source he can do a lot more, but he still has limits that are way under where a kid his age actually should be. If it wasn't for his work ethic and Chiquitita's insistence he was okay, Mr. Shrimp would be walking Chiki to school almost every day. The idea that his son can just, do things now, hasn't really clicked. Chiki (who is roughly 6-7-ish seeing as he is a first grader) is actually fairly aware of his own limits, but, with the encouragement of both other kids (<- link to a bonus chapter) and his babysitters, he has been trying to push them. We know from one of extras staring Chiquitita (<- read this bonus chapter first) that he probably doesn't have much interest in play fighting, but I feel like he would be very into athletics. Still, no matter how well he thinks he knows his limits he has 100% had to be picked up from school or brought home after getting faint. Those are the moments where Mr. Shrimp probably gets a bit too smothery, he is the biggest cry baby but I can't even blame him. This is where I dive headfirst into total headcanon territory, but I know this man has some intense insecurities about his ability to raise his son and finding the balance there is so hard. He has the space and time to think about this sorts of things instead of trying to survive day-by-day and I know it is eating him alive. He very openly blames himself for the death of his wife when he explains his backstory. He calls himself an alien word that very clearly is meant to be something like "Weakling" or "pathetic" and you can just feel the hate oozing off the page. He has issues. How long was he fighting every day just to see the next and make sure his family could too, like, this is the stuff I am talking about when I say he has PTSD. He was 100% willing to beat a teenager unconscious for the sake of a paycheck. (I know his singing is def just because he is kind of a silly guy, but imagine if he was doing it to distract himself from his horrible job. Singing about his son to remind him why he was there, do you see the vision????) I am constantly thinking about how his and Acrosilkie's stories are so similar, only, he came out of it with a good ending. Even when his life was safe and his son was safe he felt so indebted to the gang that he was willing to die in the Space Globalist Arc for a battle that wasn't even any of his business!! His life is the only thing he feels he can offer that is of any value man.... Anyway!! Do we think that Mr. Shrimp and Chiki bleed red when they are in their human disguises, or white still? I am leaning towards white but idk how I want to handle their shapeshifting fully. Also, hopefully I articulated my thoughts here okay T-T My brain is too full of them. (ASKS STILL VERY MUCH OPEN!!)

[officialnighttime]

I have 7 cats. Jacqueline, Smudge, Hank, Daisy, Nala, Sammy and Lil Boo Thang.

All except smudge, Jacque and Hank came from shelters. Hank was given to me after mums friend moved to a rental that didn't allow pets. Jacque and Smudge are actually half siblings and I took in their mother as a stray. Blossom passed away last year but her babies are well and happy, Obi is another of her last litter and lives with my mothers son's ex girlfriend. She's lovely and taking great care of him and sends me regular updates.

I love them all. But having seven is a bit much I have to admit. One cat is great and you don't need a second to keep it company. I just take in strays cause hey I have the room and the money for the food so why not.

I'd reccomend before you get one, take a look at the videos of 'do's and don'ts' cause they are helpful and I watched some after having my cats for a while and it was stuff I'd learned along the way that would have been good at the very beginning.

I can't remember if it's true but I believe wet food has more nutrition than dry food. I give mine some kibble in the morning and wet food as dinner.

Toys. Toys are important. it might seem like they don't play with them but they will eventually and they're only a few dollars for some balls and jingly things for them to chase. All of my seven have at some point lost interest in toys. so I'd get two lots and rotate some out every now and again so it's like they're new.

Get them used to a harness. I put each one in a harnness for 10 min a day until they were able to walk comfortably in it to get them used to it. If I need to I can get them into a harness and then into the carrier far easier. makes for smoother vet trips and such.

Mine are indoor outdoor so I don't leash walk much. But a couple of them do enjoy coming with me to the shops and chilling outside while I grab some things. Cats walk a set route and mark it as their territory so they don't walk as far as the shops and it's a good novelty for them. Also since walking them I don't worry too much about them getting spooked and lost because they know the outer area of their territory better. If your cat will be indoor, it's still a good idea to leash train and walk them so if they get out, they know where to go and it's good exercise for you both.

Training them in general is good. It's just good bonding and creates better relationships. Clicker training them is just cool. I don't have a clicker but I'm autistic and the click noise I make with my tongue works just fine (yes I figured this out cause I was stress stimming and my cats knew the flurry of clicks was not happy and I was burried under a mountain of fur and purrs. daisy even ran out and came back with Hank lol). But clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth makes a good enough noise. I use one to signal stay, two for sit, one and a twirling finger to get them to spin.

and if you work from home or use your computer a lot, it's worth investing in one of those cardboard cat laptops. They bother you cause they want to mimic you. It's a form of bonding for them. So the cardboard one they can play with themselves is a good way for them to do that without pissing you off

Ngl I am biased towards getting cats from a shelter. especially if you've never had one, cause often you can find 3 - 5 year old cats whose owners just didn't want to/couldn't care for them any longer and a kitten is not something I'd recommend starting with.

Anyways, I'm done infodumping about cat care. I hope you get a kitty you love that loves you <3

Do you like cats? Do want one/have one?

I DOOOOOOOOO like cats!

but I specifically like taking care of ONE cat.

I babysat two cats recently, it's a big NOOO for me (they weren't even bad cats, I just don't think I am meant to have two cats).

But I want one cat (I don't have one/have never had a pet. The closest I got to a pet was a goldfish I won at a church fair....that died the next day.😬)

And before somebody asks, yes between cat vs, dog, I choose cats HANDS DOWN!

Historically, dogs and I have not gotten along. This person in my neighborhood has had the same iteration of a small gray dog for 18 years now and it HAS jumped the fence, it IS aggressive, and it BARKS AT EVERYTHINGGGGGGGGG

Also generally in my neighborhood it seems people don't like to keep their dogs inside or on leashes...

I've been getting better at liking dogs (tolerating them) but my history with them has led me to love cats more.

Cats leave me alone or cuddle up when they want to.

I respect that.

🙌🏾 may the cat distribution system find me 🙌🏾

-🔒🐱

[narcjsistx]

𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 | kaiser x reader

— part eleven

plot: kaiser comforted you after a bad and slow breakup, but what will happen now considering what you two shared? is everything still unexpected or is there something you both simply have yet to realize?. fluff shit 'cause yeah!!

words: 2.2k (2224)

extra: it will probably become a multi part story, tell me if you're interested in a part twelve!

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!. you can find the other parts of the story by searching in the section dedicated to bllk

The clip of your kiss had gone viral, too damn viral. When you were there you didn't know the camera was filming live nationally for a famous TV network, and frankly you didn't even know if it was legal to do so. You just knew that the media had been talking about you again for hours, filling all the social media with the same speculations of a possible return between you and Gabriel. Opinions were mixed, some said you had never broken up, others said it was a staged scene, others still who had noticed your disgusted face. There was also another portion of people, smaller than the other factions, who wondered if Kaiser had no problem, given that the idea of a possible relationship between you two was starting to grow on the web. If this had just happened, the chances of a relationship were zero, according to many fans. Yet the thing that worried you most now was your relationship

You wondered if the lack of response to messages and calls was due to a reason related to the clip or because he was seriously at practice and he could not answer you. But it was strange, Michael always answered your messages in the small breaks, and yet now he had not done so for too many hours. Had Kaiser seen the clip or not? What was going through his head now if he had seen it? He was thinking of leaving you?

You were afraid, there was no point in hiding it. You were afraid that you were losing, or rather had lost, the reins of your life that you had struggled to regain control of after the recent scandal. You were afraid that you were slowly sinking into a hole that you would never be able to climb out of, not even with your efforts. You were simply afraid that the only person who was next to you at the moment, the one you were seriously in love with, had already decided in his mind to leave you. But if Kaiser left you, you would have been truly alone for the first time in your life, and honestly you didn't have all that strength to get up a second time on your own. If everything collapsed this time, you would have collapsed with everything too, without a brake

You loved Kaiser, you really loved him, even if it took you years and a disappointment in love to understand it. You had always considered him akin to your soul, someone who could really understand you without explaining; and now that he was yours, maybe you had already lost him. Michael knows perfectly well how much you hate Gabriel, how much the mere thought of him makes you want to throw up, but a kiss on national television between you and your ex must have been a difficult pill to swallow. Maybe you were crying for hours on the couch in vain, because he wasn't worried, or maybe you had just lost him and didn't know it yet

Gabriel was a fucking piece of shit, one of those parasites whose only goal in life is to suck your soul out. You didn't know if he did it to annoy you, for any other reason, or because maybe he too had begun to suspect the closeness and the strange relationship between you and Kaiser. Your ex wasn't a stupid person, he was unfortunately much more intelligent than average, maybe he had really understood that between you and your best friend there was no longer just a friendship. Gabriel was a very good body reader, and maybe you let out an extra twinkle when you talked about your secret boyfriend, just maybe

The thing that bothered you the most about the whole situation was that there were so many 'maybes', but not even one certainty, other than that Gabriel was a piece of shit. You didn't know anything about Kaiser's situation and Gabriel's reasons, you didn't even know if crying at that moment was right or not. You hated crying, even though you advised others to always do so when they needed it; you needed it at the moment, but you didn't want it. It was something you hated doing since you were a child, something a very small and strict number of people had seen you do in front of their eyes

Kaiser would be back in a few days, and if he didn't answer you in a few more hours, you would go to him, even if it was just to be left or shouted at. The oppression was too much, and being in this state was destroying you. You knew where he was at the moment, and it wasn't even that far from home, about two or three hours by train

You lift your face from the couch cushion only when you hear the doorbell ring. You had ordered takeout about twenty minutes ago because you had died of the desire to cook, so it was probably your burger delivery guy. You get up from the couch rubbing your face to make the tiredness go away, while you listlessly grab your wallet, as you approach the door. You open the door, not even looking up because of tiredness, just putting the money in front and a free hand to receive the food

But when you look up a pair of cerulean eyes, the ones you would recognize among billions, send shivers down your spine. Kaiser, with his suitcase in his hand and wrapped in his coat signed with the team crest, is in front of you. The calm gaze, perhaps too calm, as he stares at you with an intensity that scares you a little. That's why he wasn't replying to messages, he was coming back

But was it a good or bad thing to have him here already? That was your question

You look at him, unable to lower your gaze again. Your lower lip begins to tremble slightly, and you know your body signals: you're about to burst into tears again, and the last person you want to show it to is him. He's already seen you cry more than a few times since you've known each other, but with this situation in the mix it would be the limit

"Will you let me in?" he asks firmly, not seeming to feel any anger whatsoever. He picks up his suitcase and walks past you, while you automatically close the door. You lean your back against it as he positions himself less than a meter away from you, releasing his grip on the suitcase as he takes off his coat, hanging it on the coat rack. You don't know what to say, or even what to think except why is he here: that he wants to broke up with you in person and then go back to his games out Berlin? Did he really do this just for a few words or is there another reason behind?

You both remain silent, a short distance from each other. Holding yourself in is proving difficult, more than anything else has ever been. If you burst out now, right in front of him, you will have no limits to crying like a desperate woman, perhaps for the first time in your life. It is precisely his silence that is making you lose that minimum of self control, something you have always been more than good at. If he has to do it, do it now and quickly, so that you can cry when he's already gone, after finally leaving you alone

"What happened?" he asks, and in his gaze you feel that softness that he has never given you since he came back now, the same one he reserves for you only when he says he loves you

You can't take it anymore, not after this. The brakes you were holding on to are released, as you throw yourself into his arms and start crying like never before. You cry about everything, you cry because at the moment it seems like the only sensible thing to do. You feel his arms holding you, something Gabriel has never really done: it's not just a physical holding, it's also something you can't explain, but you know with absolute certainty that it does you good. It's like you're now pouring out everything you've been keeping inside for too long, things that go beyond the current situation, things you've never had the courage to talk about with anyone; no one except him, who isn't going away as your wicked imagination had believed. He's not walking away, he's not doing this to then stab you in the back, that wouldn't be his style. If Kaiser thinks of something, he does it without thinking twice and most of all without remorse, and yet he's not throwing you away from him. It's holding your pain, it's not stopping it, but he's there for you, only for his girlfriend

"A shit happened, a real fucking shit. I didn't know and he just pulled me close to him-" you say through tears, stopping often to catch your breath because of the crying. You take deep breaths, catching your breath when you need to "I didn't want to, Michael, I didn't want to. He did it all" you say desperately, and he nods, running a hand down your back "And I didn't know it was on national television, I didn't even know the cameras were coming. I knew absolutely nothing. And he made us look like a couple again in front of I don't know how many millions of people, and now the media is all about me and him again, again, and again" you say taking a second to clean your face, only to start crying again a few seconds later "And I know you saw it too, I know because you're here. And I don't even want to imagine how you felt, because you saw it, right?" you ask confused with your words, looking up at him

"I saw it" he says confirming

"Of course you saw it, because otherwise you wouldn't be here now even though you had to be in some training camp in Germany" you say sarcastically "Sorry, you really have to excuse me, please" you say, and for the first time you see him confused since he came home

"Apologize for what? For something you didn't even want? For something you couldn't control but just accepted?" he asks, and you look at him a little relieved "I know how much you hate him and you know how much I hate him. I didn't doubt you for a second when I saw that scene. Maybe not all viewers noticed, but I can read my girlfriend's eyes, and you wanted to run away. If you thought for even a second that I was going to break up with you, because I know you and I'm sure you did, you're stupid and you should just have a little more faith in the man you say you love. I'm only here because I knew I'd find you like this, that you needed me, so skipping one more training and spending a few bucks on a plane ticket seemed like the only really good solution" he says, not stopping for a second to hold you in his arms "Why should I be the one to leave you if I've wanted for years to be yours and you to be mine?"

Kaiser knows where to strike with words, especially against you. He has his way of expressing himself so clear and precise, like a sniper, but he aims exclusively at your heart with a completely different idea of hurting you. You remain still for a few seconds, processing his words, before smearing your face against his chest as you begin to cry even harder

"Silly girl" he says, chuckling, while holding you close "I understand crying for the situation, but for my words, really?" he says in an affectionate tone, and you can't help but nod "I needed them. I have too many thoughts in my head and you gave me confirmation that I needed to calm at least some of them" you say, sighing, feeling slowly more relieved. He rolls his eyes in amusement, then leans down and leaves a kiss on your forehead "You have to calm the other thoughts too, give yourself some answers. You have to devour Gabriel and make him regret everything" he says in a firm tone, but with a determination that seems small compared to the one you have now. You have to make Gabriel a dog, a fly, a cockroach. You have to make him so small that he will feel so much pain when you are finally the one to stab him in the back after years of silence

"You're right. But I already have something in mind" you say in a confident tone, finally giving a chance to what you've had in mind for a while, perhaps unfeasible, but you won't know if you never try. Maybe it's not even the right way to act, but when has Gabriel been right towards you?

The shit you were about to throw at him was just about to begin. Now that would have been fun

tag(s): @rroxii ; @kittenish0 ; @bungoustraydogsno1fan ; @sabrina-senpai (if you want to be tagged tell me!)

[apollos-boyfriend]

tags by @.transbeeduo but putting this here bc the other post was already long enough LMAO and i feel like this needs its own space but GOD i have been thinking about this since it ended

i’m just going off what we have on purpled and not any ideas to how/if he changed after the original ending and like. oh my god. he’d be so angry. i don’t even think he’d celebrate that much, if at all. because yeah, he hated quackity, but he wanted quackity’s downfall to be by his own hand. and for most of his arc, he didn’t even want quackity dead. punz and dream are the ones to implant the idea of killing quackity—up until that point, it seemed like purpled’s plan was to break him emotionally by killing slime in front of him once more. he wanted quackity to suffer like suffered. to lose like he lost. while he had a secondary motive in a “legacy”, purpled’s primary motive was always taking something that was important to quackity. las nevadas would’ve taken his legacy, the revive book his hard work, and slimecicle his connections. it was always less about ending quackity for good in a physical sense. he wanted to see that man break, and he wanted it to have been by purpled’s hands.

purpled called dream a coward for having sent punz to talk to him and “not having the balls to face [purpled] himself.” i have no doubts he’d have a similar, much angrier, reaction to finding out what happened. purpled already thought quackity wasn’t able to own up to his actions. that he’d do anything to avoid facing/admitting the truth. quackity killing himself, without ever paying for his crimes (in purpled’s mind), would make purpled lose it.

although i guess ghosts are canon, so there’s nothing really keeping purp from still getting his revenge as long as he can find quackity’s ghost. i do think it would play out in this same way of him initially being so blinded by rage and disbelief at quackity’s nerve that he completely forgets about the fact that a part of quackity is technically still out there LMAO

[hailturinturambar]

Thoughts on J.D and Patrick's interview (PART II)

The year can't end without one more analysis! By the way, I want to do more analysis of the show, but I haven't decided yet, so suggestions are always welcome! This interview is from August, but that's okay. After all, there are so many interviews that I'm almost lost!

Come on, one of the best things about the show, at least to me, is always the prologue. The prologue to the first season has a very well-structured foundation of the Elder Days and the beginning of Arda.

Morgoth's introduction as the First Enemy was brief but still impactful. However, nothing could have prepared me for the breathtaking prologue to season two.

We were all curious about the beginning of Sauron's journey. But the prologue was better than I could have hoped for.

I'm glad they changed it for season 2, I don't think it would have worked very well in season 1. Would they have introduced Sauron mid-season or would the scenes have been cut?

The second season is darker, so I think the dark prologue was ideal. We know a lot about Sauron's past in the books, but not in the adaptations. In the movies, for example, he's just Sauron, the Dark Lord, there's nothing more about him than that.

Well, I couldn't agree more. In episode eight of season one, just like Galadriel, we know that Sauron is the Enemy and that's it. But what do we know about Sauron before his encounter with Galadriel and his path of evil?

I really like that in TROP Sauron is not romanticized, but we are introduced to his past, to the events that shaped him and led him to do everything he did. Only when we know someone's past are we able to understand their actions.

I started rewatching TROP on December 23rd and I'm already at the end of the second season, and they're right. When we watch the first season again, after the prologue of the second season, everything seems different. No scene seems simple or out of place, no word seems meaningless.

We look at scenes in Númenor, for example, and we're like, "Yeah, that makes sense! That's why Halbrand/Sauron behaved like that." It's really interesting. Because I never thought the show would go that way in 2022.

We started and ended the first season with the question, "Who is Sauron?" In the second season, we finally know. Because we get to follow Sauron after Morgoth's defeat and how he tried to rise again. We see how he was betrayed by Adar and spent centuries recovering. And most importantly, we find out how Halbrand ended up on the cursed raft.

Tolkien left some great passages open, didn't he? These long passages of time without information are great for piquing our curiosity. And I don't know if Tolkien thought about them, after all, he had a very long story with many characters, maybe he left that blank period aside.

And I loved how this was worked into the series. Because in the books after Morgoth's defeat and Sauron's refusal to return to Valinor, we don't have much information. I always wondered how he ended up in Eregion or when this idea came to his mind.

I try my best to pay attention to the details in the show, there is always hidden information. And it is extremely satisfying to watch the passage of time in Sauron's transformation. We know from the books that Sauron can return, but we don't know how that process works.

So it's fascinating to watch time pass, the climate change, but Sauron's form also change. From a tangle of worms emerging from a pool of blood, to Sauron's mortal form as Halbrand.

I humbly believe that Sauron does feel pain. When Morgoth fought Fingolfin, Morgoth felt pain and his pain reverberated throughout Middle-earth. Morgoth felt pain because he had been in one form for too long, just as Sauron did. Sauron spent too much time assuming many forms, so why wouldn't he feel pain if a Valar was able to feel it?

In my opinion, the key point in any show or book is the "what if?" What if Sauron felt pain? What if Sauron is capable of having feelings? The what if is the big cherry on the cake that keeps our curiosity and makes us spend hours theorizing about a character.

I think Sauron is capable of feeling everything, whether it be emotions or pain. However, I believe that this feeling is not as we imagine it. It is, as has been said, an ambiguous feeling. We will never be able to understand the extent of Sauron's honesty about what he is demonstrating or pretending to feel.

Now that's a point that keeps me awake! In case you don't remember, I commented on my opinion about the sea monster in my analysis of Sauron and Galadriel.

The sea monster and Sauron is a never-ending question. Because as Payne said, Sauron may have seized the opportunity, or it escaped his reach. Could the Valar be trying to destroy Sauron? Maybe, it would make a lot of sense.

I'll go a little further. The Valar may have sent the monster to destroy Sauron before he could do any more damage. But Sauron is a dark master and knows all beasts, so he may have influenced the monster so that he wouldn't be killed in the shipwreck. So why would the monster attack the raft?

A second attempt by the Valar? Maybe. But I like to play with the idea that Sauron summoned the monster when he recognized Galadriel. That way the humans were eliminated and he had his path clear for deception. I guess we'll never know!

The problem of writing stories as tales of legends is that we miss a lot of things. I say this from experience. Because in my book that I wrote this year, the prologue is a story about more than 200 years about the old times in the history before the first chapter. And a lot of things happened in these 200 years of history. So, if I were to rewrite each passage, a lot of new information would emerge.

This is the big difference between the show and the movies. In the trilogy (or the Hobbit trilogy) the Third Age material is all written, it just needs to be adapted. But in the First and Second Ages, a lot of things are reported, but not detailed.

Giving the Ring to Círdan could involve infinite possibilities, but we don't know them. Personally, I loved the ring story created for the show. All the depth given to the scene and the giving of the rings was a spectacle.

Yes, all adaptations have their flaws and successes. But overall, I am extremely pleased with the adaptation of TROP and the changes or additions made by those involved. An adaptation is never exactly the same as the book, we know that. But what I love about TROP is that we are presented with scenes that make us think, "Oh yeah, that's something Tolkien would have written!"

[its-crowning]

Found out I got pregnant on accident today, have been jumping between breaking down crying and scared and cumming hard to your stories, knowing it's going to be me soon. I'm passing as a guy but not for long, this baby is gonna wreck everything for me and I never thought that would turn me on so much. I don't even know who the dad is. I'm so excited to have my life fall apart and watch my body betray me to grow a baby I don't want.

I'm already planning to hide it the whole time as long as possible, and give birth unassisted at home. You literally might be the only person I tell that I'm pregnant, if everything goes well. I don't want anybody to ever know I screamed out some jerk's brat and abandoned it at a shelter. I just want to carry this thing until it's due, give birth, and go back to my life like it never happened. But I had to tell someone, and admit how much I hate this, but love it at the same time.

(anon, for the sake of horny i’m going to assume this is rp. if this is true, please consider at least getting some medical help, even if just at the birth. my stories/posts are horny fictions and are not to be replicated irl if you can help it. if you need abortion resources, i’d be happy to try and help you find them, too.)

now that i’ve recused myself of responsibility…

I understand the impulse to get bred by randoms. But you’ve marked yourself as a slut…hide it though you may try, your belly will swell and round out with life. it’ll settle in your hips. you might bind the belly, or wear layers, or slouch to try and hide your spherical gut, but your burdened waddle will give you away. any reaction you have to the baby’s movement will give you away. there will be at least one passerby that knows what’s become of you. man though you might look, there’s only so round you can get before it stops being passable as a beer belly. before everyone knows the truth—you’re going to have a baby.

you know it too. the weight seems to increase day by day. you’ll never be able to not think about what has been done to you—and you don’t even know who to blame. whose cumshot it was that led to this thing kicking you from the inside.

i can only imagine the dread you’ll feel as you enter labor. scared and alone, not wanting the baby, just wanting to go out and enjoy life like everyone else, without heavy, hard-headed consequences stretching out your genitals. but you won’t be able to—you’re paying the price for letting those men inside you. birthing one of their bastards like a broodmare.

and god knows you won’t learn your lesson. i imagine you’ll find yourself swelling again within the year.

[midnight-wood]

Again

Pairing: Sylus/You (MC but… better suited to his lifestyle?)

WC: 1.1k with lyrics

warnings: hurt/no comfort, death, fem!reader

A/N: y’all voted and we decided to torture Sylus. Here’s what I came up with. Kind of a mix of Captivating Moment and some others. References to as many of his memories as I could get. Song is Francesca by Hozier. Enjoy?

AO3

Do you think I'd give up

That this might've shook the love from me

Or that I was on the brink?

How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily?

Sylus sat in his study, quietly watching the footage Mephisto had brought to him. Your last mission had been exceptionally successful. The wanderers in that particular section of the No Hunt Zone hadn’t stood a chance, you and your partner moving perfectly in sync.

He’d never worried about you before. You were so strong, so capable. Sylus had never had anything but absolute faith in you, despite your dangerous choice of profession.

Now that it's done

There's not one thing that I would change

You were so funny in this lifetime. Everything was still fun to you, your enthusiasm for life was endlessly entertaining to him. Gone was your jaded view from the last time the pair of you had met. Sylus would give anything just for more time spent in your company.

So he’d folded you into the life he’d built here. You would regularly accompany him on dangerous tasks, the dazzling jewel of his distraction while he handled business.

My life was a storm, since I was born

How could I fear any hurricane?

That’s not to say you didn’t have a head for his business. Oh no, you’d taken to it too well. Calling people’s reactions before they could happen, planning Sylus’ contingency plans so far in advance they may as well have been part of the original. The both of you knew that people wouldn’t take too kindly to a new ‘partner’ in his business, much less a woman.

So you played your part and you played it well.

If someone asked me at the end

I'll tell them put me back in it

Darling, I would do it again

Today’s venture was nothing new to you.

Another protocore auction at another high rise hotel. Much like the first one you’d ever gone to with Sylus. It brought back such fond memories.

Before you’d learned the subtleties of this part of society. Before you’d learned to trust Sylus fully.

Sylus waited for you at the door, jacket draped over his shoulders, eyes focused on you.

“Exquisite as always” he held out his elbow to you and you took it.

“Well” you fiddled with your brooch, the same one that had won you this position “I happen to know that this is someone’s favorite color.”

Sylus took just a moment to take you in at point blank range. You were stunning in your scarlet gown. The black leather straps of the gun holster accentuated your figure without giving away the weapons hidden on your thighs.

If I could hold you for a minute

Darling, I'd go through it again

I would still be surprised I could find you, darling

In any life

Everything was progressing smoothly that evening. You had all the attention of the lower level henchmen on you, exactly where Sylus needed it.

The bigger of a distraction you could be, the less guns would be pointed at the pair of you, the lower the risk of anyone hurting you. Tonight’s distraction just so happened to be charming the partners of Sylus’ business associates.

Everyone was so wrapped up in the idle gossip of your little group that he was able to execute the deal flawlessly.

Something about three of the most powerful partners in the N109 zone chatting happily with one another put everyone but their counterparts on edge.

For all that was said

Of where we'd end up at the end of it

You had almost cleared the lobby when you heard it. The one thing the two of you hadn’t planned for.

When the heart would cease

Ours never knew peace

What good would it be on the far side of things?

The shot rang out as its own startling sound and then chaos followed.

No one was going to stop the two of you that easily.

Sylus hit his detonator the second your feet crossed the threshold.

It was too soon

When that part of you was ripped away

The first shot had missed, not even getting close to Sylus, not even to you. But that was never the intention.

The intent was the next shot.

Carefully taken from a neighboring building, silenced and hidden in the cacophony of the explosion the twins had rigged that morning.

A grip taking hold

Like a cancer that grows

Each piece of your body that it takes

You buckled into Sylus. He staggered one step forward under the sudden surge of your weight.

“Sweetie?” The question came out softer than he had intended, your sudden shift catching him off guard.

Your hand flew to your stomach, it pulled away red, almost as if your dress was melting into your skin. But you knew better and so did he.

Though I know my heart would break

I'll tell them put me back in it

Sylus scooped you up into a bridal carry, he doesn’t remember a time he’s ever moved so quickly. Silently he thanked whoever was listening that Luke and Kieran had started the car at the sound of the first shot.

“Hospital, now” he growled out as soon as he opened the door to the back seat.

His hands were on top of yours, holding as much pressure as he could to the wound.

This was not how he was supposed to lose you. Not this time.

Darling, I would do it again

“Look at me, you need to look at me, kitten.” He was all but pleading. “Eyes on me.”

If I could hold you for a minute

You met his gaze. His garnet irises nearly glowing, but his aether core couldn’t help him here. He knew what you wanted, what he wanted.

Darling, I'd go through it again

“Sylus, I - “ your breath was getting short. “I want to stay with you a while longer.”

I would still be surprised I could find you, darling

He could never have imagined how it felt all that time ago, when you’d had to put that sword through his heart.

But he knew now, as your hands grew lax under his own.

In any life

He’d redirected the twins to take you home.

Your body was cleaned and repaired while he reviewed every scrap of information he could get his hands on about who was there and why. Mephisto brought him every second of footage he could gather.

I would not change it each time

But then you woke screaming.

Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I

“Who are you?”

A/N: you made it! I made it! Woo hoo! sorry Sylus (but you’ve probably read her case notes but like good luck bud) hey maybe I’ll write a part 2? Who knows.