#yes there are exceptions and yes we like to do it more than previous generations but by god if it doesn't take a toll on your mental health

[mckinlily]

Plot armor but it’s Bruce Wayne’s wealth.

Bruce is one of the richest men in the world. Bruce does not want to be one of the richest men in world.

He starts by implementing high starting salaries and full health care coverages for all levels at Wayne Enterprises. This in vastly improves retention and worker productivity, and WE profits soar. He increases PTO, grants generous parental and family leave, funds diversity initiatives, boosts salaries again. WE is ranked “#1 worker-friendly corporation”, and productively and profits soar again.

Ok, so clearly investing his workers isn’t the profit-destroying doomed strategy his peers claim it is. Bruce is going to keep doing it obviously (his next initiative is to ensure all part-time and contractors get the same benefits and pay as full time employees), but he is going to have to find a different way to dump his money.

But you know what else is supposed to be prohibitively expensive? Green and ethical initiatives. Yes, Bruce can do that. He creates and fund a 10 year plan to covert all Wayne facilities to renewable energy. He overhauls all factories to employ the best environmentally friendly practices and technologies. He cuts contracts with all suppliers that engage in unethical employment practices and pays for other to upgrade their equipment and facilities to meet WE’s new environmental and safety requirements. He spares no expense.

Yeah, Wayne Enterprises is so successful that they spin off an entire new business arm focused on helping other companies convert to environmentally friendly and safe practices like they did in an efficient, cost effective, successful way.

Admittedly, investing in his own company was probably never going to be the best way to get rid of his wealth. He slashes his own salary to a pittance (god knows he has more money than he could possibly know what to do with already) and keeps investing the profits back into the workers, and WE keeps responding with nearly terrifying success.

So WE is a no-go, and Bruce now has numerous angry billionaires on his back because they’ve been claiming all these measures he’s implementing are too expensive to justify for decades and they’re finding it a little hard to keep the wool over everyone’s eyes when Idiot Softheart Bruice Wayne has money spilling out his ears. BUT Bruce can invest in Gotham. That’ll go well, right?

Gotham’s infrastructure is the OSHA anti-Christ and even what little is up to code is constantly getting destroyed by Rogue attacks. Surely THAT will be a money sink.

Except the only non-corrupt employer in Gotham city is….Wayne Enterprises. Or contractors or companies or businesses that somehow, in some way or other, feed back to WE. Paying wholesale for improvement to Gotham’s infrastructure somehow increases WE’s profits.

Bruce funds a full system overhaul of Gotham hospital (it’s not his fault the best administrative system software is WE—he looked), he sets up foundations and trusts for shelters, free clinics, schools, meal plans, day care, literally anything he can think of.

Gotham continues to be a shithole. Bruce Wayne continues to be richer than god against his Batman-ingrained will.

Oh, and Bruice Wayne is no longer viewed as solely a spoiled idiot nepo baby. The public responds by investing in WE and anything else he owns, and stop doing this, please.

Bruce sets up a foundation to pay the college tuition of every Gotham citizen who applies. It’s so successful that within 10 years, donations from previous recipients more than cover incoming need, and Bruce can’t even donate to his own charity.

But by this time, Bruce has children. If he can’t get rid of his wealth, he can at least distribute it, right?

Except Dick Grayson absolutely refuses to receive any of his money, won’t touch his trust fund, and in fact has never been so successful and creative with his hacking skills as he is in dumping the money BACK on Bruce. Jason died and won’t legally resurrect to take his trust fund. Tim has his own inherited wealth, refuses to inherit more, and in fact happily joins forces with Dick to hack accounts and return whatever money he tries to give them. Cass has no concept of monetary wealth and gives him panicked, overwhelmed eyes whenever he so much as implies offering more than $100 at once. Damian is showing worrying signs of following in his precious Richard’s footsteps, and Babs barely allows him to fund tech for the Clocktower. At least Steph lets him pay for her tuition and uses his credit card to buy unholy amounts of Batburger. But that is hardly a drop in the ocean of Bruce’s wealth. And she won’t even accept a trust fund of only one million.

Jason wins for best-worst child though because he currently runs a very lucrative crime empire. And although he pours the vast, vast majority of his profits back into Crime Alley, whenever he gets a little too rich for his tastes, he dumps the money on Bruce. At this point, Bruce almost wishes he was being used for money laundering because then he’s at least not have the money.

So children—generous, kindhearted, stubborn till the day they die the little shits, children—are also out.

Bruce was funding the Justice League. But then finances were leaked, and the public had an outcry over one man holding so much sway over the world’s superheroes (nevermind Bruce is one of those superheroes—but the public can’t know that). So Bruce had to do some fancy PR trickery, concede to a policy of not receiving a majority of funds from one individual, and significantly decrease his contributions because no one could match his donations.

At his wits end, Bruce hires a team of accounts to search through every crinkle and crevice of tax law to find what loopholes or shortcuts can be avoided in order to pay his damn taxes to the MAX.

The results are horrifying. According to the strictest definition of the law, the government owes him money.

Bruce burns the report, buries any evidence as deeply as he can, and organizes a foundation to lobby for FAR higher taxation of the upper class.

All this, and Wayne Enterprises is happily chugging along, churning profit, expanding into new markets, growing in the stock market, and trying to force the credit and proportionate compensation on their increasingly horrified CEO.

Bruce Wayne is one of the richest men in the world. Bruce Wayne will never not be one of the richest men in the world.

But by GOD is he trying.

[butchvamp]

okay i've played a bit more and i have a lot of thoughts about Taash and the way gender is being handled overall in this game...

first i will say the positives which is that i do really appreciate the attempt at incorporating trans characters both in the world as companions and allowing us to make those options in the cc. and as someone who also writes dark fantasy stories with trans characters i do understand how difficult it can be to incorporate these identities into a world that doesn't necessarily have the same language as we do; but overall the way they've approached this feels very... i've seen some people call it unpolished but i actually feel the opposite. it's almost clinical (therapy-speak in general has been a main criticism of this game) and it's way too polished, in my opinion, which is what makes it so jarring to see.

there has been a trans character established in game previously, there is already a precedent for these identities to exist in this world, and they have never used this language before. the way Iron Bull talked about Krem felt far more realistic and integrated into the world of Thedas comparatively. was it perfect? no, of course not, but i chafe at the idea that it needs to be perfect, anyways. this is another problem the game has; past characters have had their flaws completely ironed out (Isabela is now a paragon of friendship and returns cultural artifacts instead of looting them, Dorian has multiple codex entries wallowing about how he used to defend slavery, the Crows have suddenly become a big found family-- on and on and on) and while i have my criticisms of some of these flaws (Dorian's pro-slavery rant in inqusition still makes my eyes roll) i dislike the way they're handling these changes and just expecting us to ignore all of the lore and worldbuilding from previous games. and all of this "political correctness" only for the game to still be so racist.

which brings me back to Taash.... Taash is very strange character, lacking agency around both their gender and their culture. they are simply a mouthpiece for the writer. while yes, it should always be made undeniable that your character is trans or gay or xyz, Taash really does only exist to be nonbinary. and to be clear, a nonbinary character like them could be very interesting, if their writing wasnt so... white. we know that the Qun has different ideas about gender than Rivain (and elsewhere) and this could have been a very interesting exploration of that; however, it is obvious that the Qun (and Taash's mother) are meant to be depicted negatively, and ultimately it ends with the player (not Taash) choosing between their two cultures. their gender is clearly far more important to the writer and the only facet of their identity they seemed willing to explore, which makes me question why even make this character qunari to begin with...

Neve and Rook are also the two that spur Taash into exploring their gender. this, on the surface, is not a problem for me. i'm playing as a trans Rook and while the dialogue was again very overpolished and clunky i found it kind of endearing. but the way Neve is used as this "foil" for Taash really rubbed me the wrong way. this assumption that Neve has no complicated feelings about her gender or being a woman (which i highly doubt considering the world she lives in & how misogynistic it is) and the implication from Taash that she only dresses the way she does for her mother/other people (which Neve doesn't even get to challenge) is extremely narrow-minded. Taash is the Only character that acknowledges gender; so far, even when flirting with other characters, it's only been Taash that i've been allowed to specify with that my rook is trans, despite Taash already knowing that from our previous conversation (i hope that this changes once i lock in with a specific character so feel free to correct me if it does).

but no one else really seems to have an opinion except that Neve drags Taash around to meet Maevaris, and we get the very goofy note that's just a list of modern gender identities and their definitions. i do partly sympathize with the writers here; again i've had to find a way to incorporate lgbt identities in my own writing and it can be difficult depending on your audience. i understand wanting to be very clear and concise. but this is... just goofy. and this desperation to be so correct around gender while simultaneously writing such an offensively racist narrative is really frustrating.

there's also an inconsistency that comes from this with Taash's character-- they are portrayed as this rough but awkward character that is bossed around by their mother, they are bashful with flirting early on and are almost child-like in comparison to the other characters. and then suddenly you get a scene with them where they very directly ask if you want to have sex and suddenly pin you against the wall. this scene was so jarring to me i referred to it as a jumpscare because WHERE has this character been this entire time? i want to see more of this, more of this character who takes what they want and knows exactly who they are (which they even say multiple times when you first meet them... but then need Neve and Rook to hold their hand about it?)

i do really like Taash, i like the idea of them, of this very self-assured and almost cocky character who is also a little silly, this person who is so sure of who they are but has to deal with their mother undermining them while also navigating a culture they feel disconnected from, and i also like that the player can help them through it... but the execution is awful, shallow, and racist. the idea that someone can only choose One culture is so offensive and also a laughable conclusion when compared to their coming out as nonbinary. the writer clearly understands that people don't exist within these little boxes when it comes to gender, but can't wrap their head around it when it comes to someone's culture-- which is also a very important part of a person's identity and often contributes directly to their gender and how they feel about it. all of these different characters have different experiences, come from different places, Davrin and Bellara are Dalish and even have differing opinions on what that means for themselves, but the game doesn't touch on any of it. all we get is a lecture from the writer that is completely removed from the world it's presented in.

i wish i could understand what it was this character was meant to convey. i stand by saying that it doesn't need to be perfect; i know there are people that had problems with Krem in inquisition, but at least Krem was his own person. Taash doesn't even get that here... i harp a lot about character agency when i give writing advice on my other blog but it really is so so so important for marginalized characters-- both gay, trans, and especially characters of color-- to have their own agency around their identities that is completely separate from the player & player choice, that allows them to exist as their own person within the world you've created, and i think Taash's character and story is an unfortunate example of exactly what not to do.

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter eighteen

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): angst, very little fluff (its there but barely!), canonical death, canonical violence, nightmare trope!, mentions of anxiety and allusion to a panic attack

series masterlist; previous part; next part

"Sirius had a brother-" you whisper, your voice betraying your sadness at the thought of the eccentric man.

"Yes. His name was Regulus Black."

"Regulus Black?" Enzo mumbles to himself, as if he was testing the name on his tongue.

"He was Slytherin's star seeker in the seventies." Blaise said in barely restrained awe. "People said that he was an enigma. Always quiet and observing."

"That is a bona fide assessment of my cousin." Andromeda's low voice sounded from the doorway, the head of her husband visible in the room behind where she stood. "He was always calculating something in that brilliant brain of his."

The smile on her face is as reminiscent as it is stricken with grief. Remus turns to her with the same look simmering in his chocolate irises.

"I don't understand." Pansy says quietly. "My father always said that he was enthusiastic about being a Death Eater. Him and his friends. That Voldemort trusted him implicitly. And you're saying he was spy the whole time?"

"That was the whole point of his undercover work." Remus mused with a grim look. "He was so trusted by Voldemort that he didn't even suspect that Regulus might be the one threatening to unravel all of his intricate work."

"If you knew of the horcruxes during the first war, why isn't it a widely known thing now?" Mattheo's deep rasp travels through you like silky butter, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Because we didn't implicitly know what Regulus was searching for. Not until Dumbledore told us of what he and Harry discovered in light of what happened when you," He looked pointedly in your direction, "reacted the way you did to the dark magic swimming in Miss Bell's veins. Every time Regulus would try, his Mark burned. None of us knew just how detrimental his searching was."

"But he succeeded, didn't he? If he found the one you say was a fake." Enzo asked your old professor, eyes alight with curiosity.

"There's more than one." Mattheo says, surprising you all, except Andromeda, who looks as if this information too wasn't new. "Several actually. There was my father's old diary, the ring, this locket-"

He pauses, head swimming with thoughts of the many possibilities.

"Nagini was always whispering about it in the years she'd turn up at Theo's home to torment me. But she always spoke in riddles. There could be more, there probably is more but I don't know what they could be. Something significant to my father, though."

"But how do they work?" Pansy asks, looking between Mattheo and the adults.

"He murdered innocent people to split his soul." Mattheo says resentfully. And though his face is expressionless, you read his shame as if it was there, clear as day.

"So that's how he survived? He severed his soul and tethered himself to the Earth?" Theo's head was slightly tilted to the side, eyes alight with curiosity.

The thought alone sends a wave of colossal dread through you all.

"We believe so, yes. But knowing just how many there are will be crucial if we are to win this war." Andromeda said quietly, before her husband entered the room with a bright smile, despite the stale tension that permeated the air of the tiny kitchen.

"Ready to go, love?" He questions his wife, voice laden with a love that hadn't faded in the years that you'd known the couple through your parents.

"Yes, dear." She mumbles, her hard exterior crumbling from her face for only a split second before the mask has slipped back into place. Ted kisses his wife on the cheek before gently moving her out of the way of the door frame where he comes to being you into a brief hug. One that you fall into without hesitation.

"Will you be alright out here on your own?" He asks you quietly and you nod your head, which is nestled on his shoulder.

"I'll be fine, Ted. Don't worry about me." Please be safe! Your mind is screaming the notion into existence.

Ted is in far more danger than you will ever be; not only was he a muggleborn, but Andromeda had a long list of estranged family members who would not bat an eyelid if Ted Tonks suddenly disappeared. In fact, they'd probably rejoice over his death, before making a martyr out of Andromeda.

He smiles at you in understanding, as if he knows what you don't voice out loud, before he turns you around so that you're both looking out of one of the kitchen windows.

"Just down that hill, about two miles away is a quaint little village. There's a café that is also a bookshop. I think you'd like it there if it ever gets too crowded here."

"Thank you." You say with a grin and he gives you a friendly squeeze before he makes his way back to his wife, who smiles softly at the two of you.

"I'll visit in a few weeks, to see if everything is still standing." Andromeda says, the ghost of a smirk lining her face as she looks between you and your usually raucous friends. Blaise and Enzo share conspiratorial looks, mischief gleaming in their eyes.

"I'll come back in a week with your first assignment. Give you all a chance to settle in." Remus says, nodding at the three newly anointed Order spies, which sobers the mischief, before he too bids farewell.

With a loud crack, they're gone.

~∞~

The following weeks were certainly odd, to say the least. It was almost like the six of you were on a neverending holiday on some days, spending your days roaming the little muggle village, but then on other days, reality would come crashing down, reminding all of you what was at stake.

It was usually Remus who delivered their assignments; it was always Remus who came once you sent your patronus to Headquarters alerting them of the boys' safe return.

About a month in, he'd arrived with Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had eyed you all with barely restrained mistrust as Remus delivered the brief: find out where Charity Burbage was being held captive and do it quickly and carefully. Luckily there was a meeting scheduled for the end of that week that the boys were expected to attend.

They had left within minutes of briefing them and with a crack, Mattheo, Theo and Enzo had left for Malfoy Manor, leaving you, Blaise and Pansy to occupy yourselves in the meantime.

Hours later, after trying to stomach a lacklustre dinner amidst your shared anxieties, the three of you are huddled together in the living room, chatting quietly about the books you were reading, when the mistakable crack of apparition sounded in the silence of night, then three loud knocks branded the front door.

Blaise took it upon himself to see who it was, and upon seeing their sullen faces, let the three boys in.

Immediately you can tell that something bad has happened.

Enzo doesn't bother greeting the three of you like he normally does as he storms off upstairs to his room; Theo heads straight for the garden door, a pack of cigarettes already in his possession and Mattheo looks positively murderous.

Blaise and Pansy seem to come to an understanding and they go in opposite directions, towards where Theo and Enzo disappeared to, leaving you and Mattheo alone. He doesn't even look like he's present in the moment and your heart aches for him.

"Théo?" You ask, voice barely louder than a whisper. But it knocks him from his stupor as he takes hold of your hand in his, soft against his angry callouses. "Lets go upstairs."

He agrees gruffly, voice low and rough, eyes shining with the onslaught on unshed tears.

Slowly the two of you make your way to the bedroom you share, silence engulfing the two of you, leaving only the sound of your breathing to fill the space. When you enter the room, Mattheo practically collapses onto the bed, body spent from the sheer exhaustion of the evening.

"What happened?" You ask softly, sitting against the headboard and guiding his head into your lap. Mattheo keens into you as you run gentle hands through his unruly hair.

The tears flow shortly after you start and your heart breaks for him.

"She's dead." He says, his voice raspy, catching in his throat. "Professor Burbage is dead."

Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes fill with tears. Professor Burbage was sunshine personified. She always had a smile on her face despite what the Purebloods said about her affliction to muggle culture. She was beloved by all the muggleborns and the staff; was one of Dumbledore's favourites. And she was a valued member of The Orderof the Pheonix, as an emissary to the muggle authorities. She was a valuable member. Now she was gone.

"H-how did she die?" You whisper hesitantly, for you don't know if the closure of knowing would be worth it.

"My father-" Mattheo shuddered. "He set Nagini on her. He didn't even give her the mercy of a quick death."

Whenever his eyes blink shut, he can see the terror behind the teary eyes of the Professor as she stared between the four boys and Severus Snape while Nagini slithered towards her suspended body. He sees the way her eyes fill with dread as no one comes to her aid. Can see the moment of acceptance as her cries suddenly dull to a staggering silence.

He fears that he won't ever sleep peacefully again. The only saving grace is that you'll never have to witness something like it, if he has his way.

"Gods." You say in disbelief, and you hold onto Mattheo a little tighter at the thought. "We need to tell Remus."

"Not yet." He says and he abruptly sits up from his place.

"Why not? He asked you to find out what happened to her. He needs to know." You argue, but you can already see his stubbornness take effect.

"I said not yet." He retorts with anger painting his features. Your brows furrow in offence. He hadn't spoken to you in such a manner in months.

But you can see how his entire resolve has continued to crumble from the moment he stepped over the threshold. Sp instead of arguing back like you want to, for the sake of getting the information to Remus, you agree and wordlessly huide his head to rest in your lap once again.

"Okay. But as soon as we wake in the morning, I'm going to tell him."

Mattheo mumbles his response into the fabric of your leggings, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp.

He falls into a light sleep and you're content to fall asleep sat up with him, as long as he was peaceful.

~∞~

He's back there again.

In the seat at the right hand side of his father. When the three of them had arrived at Malfoy Manor for the meeting, Mattheo could feel an unmistakable shift in the air.

The way his father's face twisted into a sinister smirk made his insides curl in dreaded anticipation.

"My loyal followers!" He says, arms outstretched as he addressed the sea of Death Eaters who were watching their master in rapt attention. "I have a special treat for you all tonight."

The feeling of dread made Mattheo's stomach drop even further. He didn't need to look to see that Theo, Enzo and Draco felt the same sense of foreboding.

Voldemort wanders around the table, stopping behind where Lucius was sat, before he snatches the wizard's wand from the table with a deadly snicker of a laugh. Draco does not look at his father's humiliated expression.

"I have brought you all a little...gift of sorts."

With a flourish of Lucius' wand, and to Mattheo's utter horror, Charity Burbage appears in front of their very eyes, arms and legs bound together with a brutal looking rope and mouth magically gagged shut.

He feels sick.

He barely hears as his father mocks her, telling the Death Eaters that she was encouraging young wizards and witches to mate with Muggles, thus polluting the Wizarding World with more Halfbloods and Muggleborns all while she cannot defend herself or ask those she recognises for help.

All Mattheo can comprend is that Nagini has found her way towards her dangling prey and Charity's magically bound gag has been removed.

"Severus.." her pleading eyes fall on her old old. "Please! Help me!"

Snape's eyes have not moved from a spot on the wall behind her flailing body. They don't move from that spot as Nagini prepares to strike.

Mattheo grips the arm rests of his seat as he stares blankly ahead, the sounds of his Professor's shrieks and painful screams as her flesh is torn apart is all his can hear.

And then her screams turn into a familiar tone; instead of his Professor, it's you who is suspended above the snake. Your horrifying screams permeate every corner of his skull until its all he can hear.

You're begging him to help you, but he cannot move. His limbs are glued to his seat as his father laughs manically at your expense.

His mind won't even grant him to ability to block it out. Your screams are all he can hear until his father finally utters the killing blow.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Your body drops to a heap on the floor. And then, Nagini feasts.

Mattheo wakes with a start, only to be met by your wary face staring down at him. Gods he feels like he can't breathe.

"I know. I know." He hears your reassurance as clear as day, but he can't breathe.

You place one of his clammy feeling hands against your chest, where your heart beats calmly despite the gravity of the situation. He feels the way you exaggerate your breathing, hoping he can follow.

He does so and eventually he calms down enough to wipe the sweat from his hands and his forehead.

"You're okay. Your safe." You're still holding his hand to your chest, thumb stroking over the small scars that litter his knuckles.

"It was you." He mumbles breathlessly, tears falling from his onyx eyes. "You were in her place and I did nothing to save you. I couldn't save you."

Your heart breaks for him.

"Oh love." You whisper, pulling his body into your's and wrapping him into a tight hug. "I'm here and I'm safe. I'm not going anywhere."

"It felt so real." He says into the skin of your neck, his hot breath fanning iver your sensitive skin.

"It wasn't real, Mattheo." You reaffirm, moving so that your hands cradled both sides of his face, your eyes meeting his. "It was only a dream. I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?" He hated that he sounded so weak...so vulnerable. But he could always be himself around you, could always count on you to make him feel anything but empty and numb.

"I promise you, Mattheo Riddle." you say, your lips tilting up with a slight smile that he mirrors. You press a light kiss to his chapped lips which he reciprocates in earnest.

Your souls ignite as one and it feels as if a weight has simultaneously been placed and lifted on your shoulders all at once.

Remus would be alerted in the next few hours, but for now, Mattheo let you guide him to a lying position where he layed safely in your arms.

He did not dream of your screams for the rest of the night, but it would haunt him for the rest of his life. That he was certain of.

~∞~

this one is so so so short but i've actually taken so long to get this one written up

also from this point theres just a whole lot of angst (just a little prewarning🫡)

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @benwadsworthsgf @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Word Count: 10k

Warnings; degradation/praise, deep throating, eating out, edging

Author's note: Hope you don't mind but I made the reader both a swifitie and team Edward this chapter. I do appreciate all the love I've gotten for this fic. Here's part 3!

-

The general reaction you’ve received over the last two weeks was Are you out of your mind? 

While Bethany heard you out on how it happened and why it felt like a sigh of relief being with Eddie, your mom lost her damn mind. As you spoke to her, you did your best to have a civil conversation until it just ended up being her lecturing you over the speaker while you finished up cleaning the dishes.

When she realizes you haven’t responded in a while and asks if you're still there, you pick up the phone from the window ledge and unmute yourself. “Mom, seems like you’re not interested in what I have to say about this, only about how it looks. Until you’re ready to listen, I’ll let you go.” Your finger hits the red hang up button, noting the time to the call being 45 minutes. You told her the situation about five minutes in and ever since, she had spent her time venting about Eddie and how irresponsible you were, as if she hadn't listened to anything you had to say about it. 

“Are you sure you really thought this through?” Skyler, your roommate asks you as she brings her bowl over to you. 

You huff, grabbing it from her and soaking it in the hot soapy water. “Thought what through?”

“You and him. Long term.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “Who said anything about this being long term? What if it’s just for now?” 

“Is it just for now? Because you went into it with Dylan claiming all you wanted was someone to commit to you.” She pauses, and you look her in the eyes as if to say get on with it. “When you had someone fully committed, someone willing to stay in it for the long haul, you left him.” 

“I didn’t get scared of his commitment, Sky!” You exclaimed, a little thrown off by it. 

“Really? Because you were so eager to introduce him to literally anyone?” Skyler throws at you, and she had a point. Your hesitation in meeting Eddie had everything to do with the fact that Dylan was more committed to your relationship than you were.

You were literally every guy you had hooked up with before Dylan, getting angry that he would act like a boyfriend except for the life long stuff. 

Fuck. What a hypocrite you were. 

“Fine, his commitment scared me a bit.” You admit, washing one last dish before draining the sink. “But it’s not why I left him.”

“For his dad.”

You sigh, eyebrows raised at her tone. “Yes, for his dad.” 

“Have you considered that when you’re his age, he’ll be in his 60s?”

“So?” You ask her, moving to the couch in the living room. 

“That’s not a relationship built to last.”

“Why can’t that be up to us to decide?” You ask her, wrapping the throw blanket around you and tucking yourself into the couch. “Look, I get your concern. I truly do. From the outside, me and Dylan were doing everything right. Having adventures, going Instagram official. Then we were meeting the families, getting comfortable.” You pause, rubbing your hair out of your face. “If I was 19/20, I would completely understand. I mean, I wouldn’t, but if that were the scenario, your concern would make sense. But I’m not. I’m 25. My frontal lobe is fully developed. I know that if I get together with Eddie then he’ll always be 20 years older than me. He’ll always have a different perspective on life than I do.” 

“You’ll always be tied to Dylan.” She points out. 

“We dated for six weeks.” You counter, a pinch appearing between your brows. “While we haven’t discussed our long term goals, I don’t see this being casual. It’s different with him. Nothing feels off about being with him. I’ve never felt safer.”

She pauses, assessing your face and the way you relax as you start talking about Eddie. “Fuck. You’ve never seemed this relaxed when talking about Dylan. Not once.”

“I wasn’t.” 

-

The comfort of Eddie’s chest breathing in and out underneath you as you lie right on top of him on the living room couch was soothing as you watched Twilight together. It took some convincing, but he let you press play on it and smirked over your shoulder at the blue filter.

No one had ever told him that the soundtrack was so good, though. 

It was maybe a half hour into the movie, and Eddie couldn’t figure out why every guy in her school just had to have her. The smile on your face as you settled into a comfort movie was worth the watch, though. 

You had texted him a few days prior, Eddie having given you his number before dropping you off at your apartment to face the real world. He was due back at his shop, having to settle management bullshit and deal with an unhappy customer or two to settle their complaints over the new apprentice. Ownership was nice, when they knew how to do their job. 

When can I see you next? 

When the six words lit up his screen, Eddie wanted to tell you to drive on over to his shop. He wanted to get in his truck and drive over to wherever the hell you are so he could text back Right Now. He knew your words were calculated, something not to seem too desperate to see him next, but truth be told, even if you were desperate it wouldn’t have made any difference; he was already hooked on you. He texted back to tell you the following Saturday, a day he knew he had no plans for the following day, so you could spend the night. 

He felt fucking crazy for thinking it, but now that he'd had you in his bed, it felt too big without you. 

Now here you lay with him, he sat in the corner of his couch while you snuggle up to him, and he could stay like this for hours, the sweet shampoo in his nose and the sound of your breaths comforting. He feels you slowly relax into him, all your body losing its tension. Occasionally, your arm would tighten around his torso or you would dig into him deeper. He appreciates the feeling, rubbing his fingers delicately along your skin.

The front door opens, and he feels you tense up as Dylan makes his way in. “Oh, great.” He mutters, and turns around to head straight up the stairs. 

Your body jerks to watch him, and your eyes catch Eddie’s for a moment. “I’ll be right back.” 

Eddie nods, seeing the fixed line your mouth made. He leans in to kiss you, an act of care more than anything else. You lean into it, your eyes closing automatically, breath hitching. “I’ll be here.”

-

The length up the stairs seemed to grow as you reached the top, this act something you have been dreading for days. Having told Bethany and Skyler about Eddie, they both felt bad for Dylan. In fact, your shitty attempt at an apology was met with a smack on the head with a nearby scrap paper by Sky. You knew Dylan deserved better. Fuck, did you know that. 

Here you stand in front of his door, sounds of a tv show on in the background while he presumably plays on his computer. Dylan was more the type to create joy out of finding a new favourite hiking trail or to take an archery class, but Eddie has said he’s been cooped up in his room. He goes to work, comes home and says barely two words before retreating upstairs. 

Not like you blamed him for it. 

Before you could hesitate any longer, you finally knock on his door. The sounds of his keys stop, and you barely hear the footsteps towards the door over your own heartbeat. The door opens to Dylan, and the disappointment when he sees you is evident, his face hardening. “What?”

“Can I come in?”

He seems to think on this, and you hope the outfit you have chosen, jeans with an oversized sweatshirt and your hair in a messy bun helps with the psychology of it, but when it came down to it, it was his decision. “…Sure.” You light up in surprise, having expected to do the apologizing in his door frame. You follow him in, and it’s an awkward moment of silence before he goes to sit in his desk chair. “Have a seat, I guess.” 

Your butt hits the edge of the bed, barely scraping the box spring. “Would it be cheesy if I recommended you listened to Speak Now, track 3?”

His eyebrows furrow, and it’s so like you to recommend a fucking Taylor song for the scenario. He has to laugh. “Taylor’s Version?”

“Of course.”

“Which is…?”

“Back To December.”

He tilts his head, this situation incredibly peculiar. “Remind me how that goes?”

A smile reaches your face, and you look at your lap sheepishly. 

“She apologizes…and clearly admits she was in the wrong after a person treats her very well and didn’t deserve it.” You pause, looking up at him.

“A little bit.” He admits, but the first wall is down. The look in his eye when he sees you doesn’t scream rage. 

“I can’t express how sorry I am for hurting you the way I did.” You start, watching for his reaction. “First, for stringing you along… But, you were the best looking guy at that mixer, and at that moment in time I truly did want to know you. None of that was fake.” He nods, considering this. “Then it started to feel, I don’t know, comfortable. I had people telling me how lucky I was to have you, daily, and with the men out there, god they were so right.” You gulp, and he can’t seem to look you in the eye. “I felt like there must’ve been something wrong with me not to be head over heels for you, cause there wasn’t anything wrong with you.”

“When did you know you wanted to break up with me?” 

“I can’t say for sure.” You tell him, and it was probably about two weeks ago, but that felt cruel. “But the moment we got back into your car I should’ve ended things.”

“You knew about him that fast, huh?” He asks you, his eyes appearing glossy. “You know, if you would’ve been honest I would have been absolutely choked, confused even, but I would have given you his number.”

You nod, because of fucking course Dylan would’ve been nice enough. “See, you’re so kind because that never occurred to me. I thought you would’ve dropped me off at home.”

“Probably.” Dylan admits, thinking about the possibilities if you’d broken up with him earlier. “Maybe not.”

“I’m so sorry for cheating on you, though. Of course, knowing your mom’s history shouldn’t have made a difference but—”

“Yeah. Kind of fucked me up.” Dylan leans back in his chair, and a smile reaches his face as he looks back to you. 

“I know that if me and Eddie keep dating that I could never, ever even remotely be a parental figure, and frankly I’m not looking to be your mom, but I hope one day you can trust me again.”

“See, how do I know you won’t do the same thing to him?”

It hurt, but it was fair. “You made me feel safe. But your dad—” he cringes, “Eddie, he makes me feel free.” 

Dylan turns around in his chair, considering this. “I believe that.”

“Wait, you do?”

“Yeah. When I walked in today sure, I was annoyed. Seeing my ex girlfriend in a new happy relationship with the person she cheated on me with is kind of annoying. But you were never that comfortable with me. That look of…contentment. I’ve never seen it before.” He sighs, doing another turn in his chair. 

“Have you and your dad spoken about it?”

“No. I’m pretty fucking mad at him. I’ll forgive him, one day. If you’re sticking around, I'll have to, because I’m not staying with my mom and her new perfect family. But we dated for six weeks. I was only starting to think I was falling in love with you. Thank god I never got there. Even then.”

“Don’t put all the blame on him.” You jump to his defense, and wow, did this sound bad. “I made the first move.”

“Good to know.” He pauses. “That’s all I want to know, for the record. No more details… I've heard enough.”

“I am sorry, though Dylan. In another universe, we date and I let you down properly and you meet your dad’s girlfriend a few weeks later who turns out to be your ex.” You laugh, just picturing it. 

“Sounds like a rom com.” 

“Honestly it’s an intriguing concept.” You get up from his bed, the conversation having met its end. 

“I can’t forgive you, yet. But that was the fucking apology I deserved the first time.”

You cringe at it, this memory is something you can already see haunting you at 3am.

“Can we pretend like that one never happened?”

“No. It’s great material to have in a back pocket. Who apologizes to their ex with brand new hickeys on their neck?"

“Okay, point taken!” You yell at him as you walk out the door. 

“Bye.” He calls out, and the door shuts behind you. 

-

You meet Eddie back at the couch, the movie paused while he scrolls through his phone. “What are you scrolling on?” You tease him, sitting easily back where you were before.

“Oh the uh, Facebook videos.” He says off-handedly, and you roll your eyes. “What?”

“Who uses Facebook nowadays?” You joke, knowing full you still updated yours occasionally.

He chuckles, nipping at your shoulder. You grab the remote by his leg, pressing play. “How did it go?”

“Better.” You sigh, watching Bella awkwardly ask him to hang out at the beach. “Much, much better. Doesn’t scream pure hatred in his face every time he looks at me anymore.”

“Makes one of us.” Eddie jokes, and you grab his hand to place a kiss, comforting him. 

The movie continues, and Eddie has never fully paid attention to the movie before, having come out in his late 20s. It was ridiculous, to say the least. The plot thickens as Bella discovers his true nature and Eddie can't help but notice a particular smile creep on your face as Edward mutters something about a lion falling in love with a lamb. Creepy. 

“Do-do you have a crush on Edward?” He asks, his voice particularly bewildered. 

Your eyes bug out, and you bite back the smile breaking out on your face with much failure.

“What? No.”

“Oh, you totally do.” Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Shut up.”

Another five minutes pass and your stomach rumbles, prompting Eddie to get up and walk to the kitchen to make you something. “Want something with chicken, rice, spice, what do you want, baby?” He calls out, and you now stare openly at the tv as the baseball scene is showing, and you’ve always considered Edward just to be a bit extra hot in this scene. 

His question takes a moment to register. “Butter chicken?” You ask him. 

He peeks his head out to the music on the screen, and immediately sees the look on your face. A big smile is plastered on your face, chin resting on your fingertips as you sit cross legged. Fucking. Teenage Vampires. He rolls his eyes, rejecting the jealousy. He isn't going to be jealous over this. Nope.

He finishes the food, putting a bowl out for you, Dylan, and himself out. “Dylan! Food if you want it!” He calls out, and he brings two of the bowls for you and him, the smell of his cooking more than welcome. “Here baby.” He kisses your forehead, sitting next to you as you take a big inhale. 

“Holy shit, thank you, Ed.” You tell him, and Eddie is perplexed at your ability to forget to eat a single thing until the hunger pains kick in. He supposes his food habits at 25 weren’t the greatest, either. Now that he thinks about it, he pretty much lived off energy drinks, coffee, and the occasional hot food Wayne would force down his throat.

You inhale the food, the empty bowl on the coffee table within minutes. “Want more?” You’re hypnotized by the screen, having barely heard him. Why did he want to fight a seventeen-year-old vampire? “Baby?”

“Hmm?”

“Want more?”

“Oh sure! Thank you.” The shine in your eyes brightens up as you look up at him, and it settles his jealousy. For the most part. 

Eddie scoops himself and you another bowl, seeing Dylan hasn’t grabbed his yet. “Dylan! Food’s getting cold! Come eat!” 

Dylan comes out, actually looking like he was in a better mood than he was before.

“Oh, shit, Twilight?” He comments, shaking his head. “She’s a hard Team Edward girl. Hard.” 

“I’ve noticed. Here.” Eddie would’ve usually taken the win from his son joking with him but the jealousy that sat eating his gut was so fucking annoying. Why the fuck was he so annoyed at this stupid vampire?

“Oh it's not so fun now, is it?” Dylan calls out, running back up the stairs. 

This makes Eddie smile, like things might go back to normal. The screaming match with him after you had left made him believe he truly severed his relationship with him, but this gave him an inch of hope. 

Eddie gives you the second serving and you tear through it again, leaving the bowl in front of you empty. As Eddie finishes his own, he starts to lean into you, placing delicate kisses on the little exposed skin you provided for him today. He moves you so you’re lying on top of him.

The movie is about to end, Bella waking up in a hospital with frankly, an off-putting delivery of the lines she was given. His hands make their way up past the hem of your sweater, reaching to touch some skin as he continues. A pinch makes its way in between your eyebrows down at him. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to touch you.” You don't believe him, but you also don't mind the touches, as they were certainly doing their job as far as foreplay goes, so you lean back into him. Just when Eddie thought the end was near there’s a whole-ass prom scene and he nearly groans in frustration. Your legs intertwine with his, and he gets a sneaky idea, peering over your shoulder to move his leg over the teensiest bit. 

He moves his leg as if he was lifting one leg to rest on its foot. He moves it a bit faster than necessary, aiming for where your ass sat lower than normal on his body. 

As his knee jerks into your cunt, you gasp, a heat having already gathered from the movie alone, his teasing doing nothing to help. 

“Shit, sorry baby. Was just trying to move my leg.” One look at his face tells you it was a bold-faced lie and you give him an exasperated look. “What?” A series of shots that didn’t make the movie at the end show and Eddie rolls his eyes. “Prick.” He mutters under his breath to an image of Edward on the screen. 

“What was that?” You ask him, unsure you even heard him right. “Eddie, were you jealous?” You ask incredulously, the very idea of it is just bizarre. 

“What? No!” Eddie dismisses it far too quickly, but the satisfaction as he turns the tv off is too much to deny. 

“Eddie! He’s a fictional character. You do realize you share the same name, right?” Eddie rolls his eyes, slightly ticked off he let himself get caught being jealous. You crawl up to his face, the knee against your cunt having left a throb of more want. “Besides, there’s nothing to be jealous of.” You lean in to kiss him, still lying on top of him. As you tilt your head to deepen it, Eddie feels weak as your tongue meets his own and the way you’re gasping into his open mouth is filthy. “Nothing.” You emphasize, biting on his bottom lip. 

Eddie bites back a moan, his eyes rolling back as your teeth linger. You frame his face, kissing along the path of his stubble, his gorgeous jaw line, his freckled neck, the dip of his collarbone. 

You pause, taking a quick pause to suck on the collarbone lightly, biting into it to make one little claim of your own. You sit back on it, admiring the way it's already started to bruise. You continue, your hand absentmindedly moving his shirt up his torso so you could kiss your way down. You lick across a nipple, and his chest stunts in response. Down his torso you go until you meet the treasure of all treasure trails. You pause, inhaling at the scent, and the musk intoxicates you so much that you can’t help yourself, licking at it. Fuck. 

Finally, you get to his jean waistband, and you tug twice, making sure it's okay. Eddie moves to unbutton it for you, and you swat him away. “I wanna do it.” You tell him, picking up where he left off. You tug the jeans off, your fingers hooked meticulously so his boxers come off with them. 

His cock springs free and you look up to his face. By now Eddie has lost all clear thought, and he’s sure it started the moment you started working on his collarbone. Somehow it just got better and better as you went further down, every touch of your tongue against his skin sending fucking waves through him. But the look of…elation that you give him as you free his cock, like you couldn’t believe you get to be so lucky to suck on it, had him in pure ecstasy. 

You leaned in to take a long swipe on it, a slow lick from the base to the tip, and his cock is nearly down your throat before he could even register it. Relentlessly, you bob your head, fist gripping what you can't fit. You hear him swear loudly, and you let go with a popping sound. His hand finds its way to your face, framing it. You peer up at him, and his half opened eyes and a disbelieving smile gives you an unmatched sense of pride. 

“Holy shit.” He mutters, his thumb crossing your bottom lip slowly. 

You smile, lifting his hand from your face and into your hair, curling your fist over his so he would grip it tightly. You go back to work, mouth watering as you continue to bob up and down. Eddie slowly starts pushing on your head, forcing you to take a little bit more of him at a time. Your gag reflex fights it, and he can feel it. 

“Relax your throat baby.” He whispers. “Just relax it.” You think about it, letting the tense muscles of your jaw and attempting to swallow the spit to soften. He can feel a shift, his cock still in the heat of your mouth. “Oh, good girl.” 

He thrusts his hips up, and his cock finds itself down your throat, a feat you’ve never been able to accomplish before. The base of his cock meets your nose, and he stops, watching you adjust as tears come to your eyes from the stinging. “Holy shit, good fucking girl.” He mumbles, sweeping his hand through your hair. “So good.”

He pulls on your scalp so you move up and back down a few times, and you find it impossibly easy to submit yourself to him, allowing him to fuck your throat.

Eddie guides you off his cock, you look up at him for his appraisal and he frames your face to wonder how he was so lucky as he looks at your cocked-out eyes. “Oh, what a good little slut.” He mutters, pulling you up to his face. 

You crawl up eagerly, and he kisses you gently, not chaste, but not quite as dirty as before. He breaks away, still connecting your foreheads. “Let’s go upstairs, yeah?”

You nod readily; lust filled eyes staring back into his. You wait patiently for him to put his jeans back over on his cock and make your way back up the stairs to his room. 

As soon as his door is shut Eddie rids himself of his clothes, and you end up watching from his bed eagerly, enjoying the show. He dives onto the bed, and a squeal of giggles involuntarily leaves your throat at the wild eyes captivating his face. He dives down to kiss you, his tongue delicious against your own and he sucks on it, luring a whimper right out of you. One of his hands rubs against your thigh, and this pair of pants wasn’t something he could feel you up through. Eddie’s thumb messaged extra rough, and the touch alone manages more whimpers. 

“Touch me.” You choke out, breathing heavily, breathing him. “Please.”

Eddie grins, both his hands working down to unbutton the tight jeans you wore. A hand slips in and starts to tease along the slick of your folds and your breath hitches as Eddie focuses on making you feel good. He rubs them in small circles, the touch light but enough to give you release. You can tell he isn't necessarily driving you towards an orgasm and it drives a laugh of impatience out of you against his lips. 

“Baby” You whine, “Fuck.” You couldn’t even put words to it, because somehow you knew he’d find a way to twist it. 

Eddie leans into your neck, the heat of his cruel laughter closing your eyes. “Oh, you wanted me to touch you and get off? Well why didn’t you say so?” 

The pressure increases, a defined difference in his touch as he rubs against your clit, and the sounds he draws from you was worth the tease. He hikes your oversized sweater up, revealing skin and your bra, and as his fingers move absentmindedly he kisses your stomach with light tongue, the wet warmth sending shivers up your body as the feeling in your tummy starts to pool. 

He sits up suddenly, and you whimper from the loss. He chuckles at this, pride in how pathetic he can make you feel. “Aww, poor baby.” He mocks you, and your eyebrows furrow in slight embarrassment. “It’s okay, I know you just wanna cum…gonna get you to cum all over my face.” His hands tug on your jeans, and he barely needs any help from you to yank them off, unceremoniously throwing them onto the floor. “Oh, fuck, finally.” He mutters as he sees your pussy, prettier than he remembered when he jacked himself off in the shower this morning. 

He leans in, sucking on your clit and the heat expands from it into your legs and the feeling in your stomach doubles. From no release to every bit, you could already feel the knot threatening to snap. “Holy shit, fuck.” You mutter, your thighs clamping against him. 

He feels the intensity in your body shift, continuing to suck on your clit rhythmically. Your breathing increases, and Eddie slowly sucks harder, and harder, and as your heels dig in his upper back, he stops. 

An audible whine leaves you, the edge just right there. “Fuck, Ed.” You whimper, somehow knowing it was on purpose. 

He chuckles, watching your beautiful cunt react as well. “I know, baby, I know.” 

“I was so close.” 

“Imagine how good it’ll feel when you do cum, yeah?” He teases, still watching your face. Your leg muscles spasm and the kisses he trails down your thigh are no help. 

You whine again, toes curling and the extra fabric of your sweater self consciously curls up around your fists. “Ed.”

“I know.” He says one last time, and goes in for the kill. 

There was really no delay this time, the edge was only a step away and he pushed you over, his fingers fucking into you and tongue working over time on your clit, a heat into an explosion as your legs shake and pussy spasms. Eddie pays close attention to it, admiring the glisten of your slick coating you, dripping to your ass and on his sheets and it's a piece of art. 

Eddie kisses one last time against your clit, crawling back up to you to assess. “Sweetheart?”

You smile lazily at him, the orgasm having left a smile on your face and a glow amongst your features. “Hmm?”

“Wanna fuck still?” He asks, his hand petting your face softly. 

Your eyes fucking light up, nodding enthusiastically. He chuckles, moving the sweater slowly up and over your head. He moves around your torso, single handedly unhooking your bra, revealing those gorgeous tits. 

He looks like heaven above you, a shadow of stubble, brown eyes darkened as he takes you in, and the lust in his eyes sends a pool of wetness between your legs. Your legs open, and he sits himself between them, kissing the nearest skin he can as he puts his cock into you. 

Your legs close on the feeling, mouth falling open in a silent moan. God, what a sight. 

You sleepily look up at him as he puts his chest on yours, just drinking in the moment of him in you. He does the same, your hands framing his face.

He kisses you, slow and sweet. “So, so, good, Ed.” You manage out between them, sighing up at him. 

He moves back a bit, thrusting into you lightly and you whimper into his mouth. He separates himself to get a good look as he continually fucks into you, and your mouth is open in unspoken words. Too fucking good. 

“I know baby, I know.” He tells you. He kisses your neck, down your throat and down to a tit bouncing lightly from the impact of his cock fucking into you. He latches his tongue onto the nipple, your pussy tightening around him in response. He grazes his teeth lightly, mewls leaving your throat at the sheer pleasure mixed with pain and he lets go. 

He leans up from you, taking one of your legs and placing it against his shoulder up towards the ceiling and you can feel him deeper, his thrusts starting to hit harder. Your moans are interrupted by each thrust. “Ed. So. Good. Fuck.”

His hand gently caresses your leg on his shoulder, focusing on the warmth of your pussy engulfing him. “Oh, tight pussy. So fuckable.” 

“Yours.” You whine out. 

“Oh, that’s right. My pussy.”

“All yours.” You choke out. 

“Oh that’s fuckin right. You’re mine. All mine. My good fuckable slut.”

The words hit the right spot, making your eyes roll back. “Fuck, Ed. Cum in me.”

“Yeah, wanna be filled with me?"

“Mmhmm…” 

“Oh fuck.” Eddie reaches his high faster than he was expecting, his hips jerking into you and the feeling of his cock pulsating while it spurts inside you is everything. 

Eddie pants, lightly pushing your leg off his chest. He leans forward to give you a kiss, his body covered in sweat, the slick smell being something you need to memorize. “Holy shit, sweetheart."

You giggle, your legs holding him there. “Stay a while?”

“Love to cockwarm, huh, baby?” 

“Only with you,” You mutter, a yawn leaving you. And if it was anything like the first time, you’ll be asleep within minutes. “So full.” 

He chuckles, turning on the tv next to his bed. He tugs the blanket out from under you and pulls it over the two of you. You snuggle into his arms as he wraps them around you. “You know, we can cuddle without—” Eddie starts.

“No, no. That’s crazy talk.” You interrupt him, and he feels a smile up against his chest.

As you fall asleep, you hear one last thing from him, something you don’t think you were supposed to hear. “Beat that, you sparkly fucker.”

Somehow, the power of making Eddie jealous over a fictional vampire didn’t go straight to your head, but goddamn it felt good to be this wanted. 

-

The tickle of the sheet against your abdomen comes to mind as you wake up on your side, calf in between Eddie’s legs and your face buried in his chest. His snoring is gentle but deep, his arm lazily wrapped around you. You figure he eventually got himself out of you, the subtle loss something you probably whined at. 

You feel a smile creep its way onto your face, the satisfaction of waking up how you did fills your lungs with air. You peer your head back to get a look at his face, relaxed and unguarded, even from sex. Your eyes take in every detail of his handsome face, the slight hook of his nose, the stray hairs by his left eyebrow, the freckles scattered… God, he is beautiful. 

You lean in to kiss his jawline, nuzzling your nose into the scratch of his stubble. The arm around your torso flexes, a snore interrupted. A huff of laughter escapes you, the simplicity of it just so mesmerizing. He shifts slightly, arm tightening around you as he adjusts himself. You cuddle yourself closer into his chest, inhaling the scent that was unmistakably him. No cologne, deodorant or aftershave disguising it. The smell alone makes you shudder in happiness. 

You lay breathing him in for another thirty minutes before he finally stirs awake.

When he finally does, eyes squinting around as he blinks awake, arms flexing away as he yawns and stretches, you lay there patiently as he gets his bearings.

“Fuck.” His arms go limp, and he buries himself into your hair, breathing in the scent. “How long—” he yawns, cutting himself off. “How long have you been awake?”

Your shoulders shrug, and he huffs out a breath of laughter. He feels your stomach grumble against his. “Long enough, huh.” He kisses into your hair, giving you one last good squeeze. “Alright, let’s go get some food.”

You protest getting out of bed with him but the second growl your stomach makes, this one even more audible, has Eddie give a look to say it wasn’t debatable. Food first.

Down the stairs, you sit in a pair of shorts with the same over sized sweater at the kitchen island, chewing happily on the food Eddie prepared for you, a fucking snack tray. He put it in front of you, and you look up at him with an eyebrow raised peculiarly. “I fucking love snacks.” He says, grabbing a slice of cheese off your tray.

Dylan jogs into the kitchen, stealing a cracker off your plate as he dashes around the counter. “Going out with friends, be back later.” He looks dressed up for a bar, an outfit you knew he would wear to impress. It's a weird thought that you know him like this. 

“Don’t be stupid, don’t drink and drive.” Eddie tells him, leaning forward on the island. 

“Got it!” 

“Was that good or bad, I couldn’t tell.” You ask him when the front door closes. 

“I wouldn’t go towards either. He’s being civil for the sake of you but he’s much more pissed when you’re not here. Trust me.” Eddie answers you, eyes wide at the end of the sentence.

A pang of guilt hits you square in the chest. He sees your expression falter, giving you a soft look. “Don’t feel guilty. I deserve it. He damn well has a right to act this way when I betrayed him.”

Fuck, that was a level of emotional maturity you weren��t used to seeing in men. Threw you for a loop. 

“So, sweetheart. I got a question for you.” You perk up, leaning towards him at the opposite end of the island counter. “Will you allow me to take you out on a proper date?”

The sentence drives your heart wild, your stomach turning itself inside out. You nod your head rapidly, gulping. “When?”

“Well it’s four o’clock now…if I drive you home so you can get ready we could probably make our 7 o’clock reservation.”

-

Now you find yourself in your bathroom, your makeup scattered across the counter as you dance to an upbeat playlist, your quick glance to the clock indicating you still have an hour before he comes to pick you up at 6:45. 

You're driving yourself mad with the want to outdo yourself, you want a visual reaction from this man. He was kind enough to let you know it was more upscale, but that was all the detail he was willing to provide to you. You knew your initial reaction to wear something to rile him up wasn’t any good, and the warning he had given you had driven you to believe he knew you well enough to know you would if he hadn’t.

You hear the front door of the apartment close, Skyler getting home from day working at a cellphone carrier store. She hated the dumb customers but loved the commission she made when she sold plans. She places her things down, making her way straight to the bathroom to where the blaring music could be heard. “Going out somewhere?” She asks, slightly yelling to be heard over the music. 

You reach to the Bluetooth speaker, turning down the volume a few notches. “Hot date with Eddie!” You tell her excitedly, leaning in to finish the last of the eyeliner. 

“Oh, I didn’t know you had one planned!”

“Neither did I! He told me about the reservation just like an hour ago after he dropped me off.”

“Just like that?” She asks, leaning in. 

You pause the movement of your brush on your face, using some setting powder for a final touch. “Just like that.” 

Her eyebrows raised to her forehead quickly. “Okay, damn. That’s…that’s romantic.”

A smile lands on your face, and you close it to prevent the wider smile making its way to prevent teasing. “Mmmhmm.” 

Face setting spray finishes your face before you run to your room to do the most daunting thing about getting ready…picking out your outfit. 

It has to be something your ex hasn't taken off you either. There goes that hot blue little dress, and this green strappy number, and that really cute skirt…damn this might be harder than you thought. You used a lot of secret weapons from your arsenal with Dylan. 

“I’m out of clothes!” You yell to your roommate, frustrated out of your mind. 

“You still haven’t used that pretty dress you bought last month…the one still with a tag on it?” She calls out, referring to a dress you found that fit you perfectly but didn’t have anything to wear it for.

“That one is for special occasions!”

“Bitch, your boyfriend made spontaneous dinner date plans for your first date. It’s a special occasion, wear the damn dress!”

As it cascades down your body as you place it over your head, it couldn’t have been more perfect. 

-

Sitting in your living room while waiting to be picked up should not be this jittery, butterflies doing a little dancey-dance in your stomach as Skyler absentmindedly binge-watches Buffy. You sent Eddie your address at his request about ten minutes ago, and now it's just a waiting game. 

Three knocks at the door find you standing in a second, tripping over your own feet to get to the door. You open it to him, standing there with a single red rose. He's dressed in a gorgeous leather outdoor jacket, one only a man as fine as he is could pull off as well as he does and still make it look classy. He wears a pair of slacks with a dark red button down tucked loosely into it, the first three buttons undone. 

Something tells you he’ll be moving his sleeves up his arms later. Fuck. He has never looked hotter. 

“Hi, gorgeous. Ready?”

You nodded frantically, picking the open jacket up from the coatrack you had placed conveniently by the door. You turn back to face to your roommate to tell her not to wait up and face her, her mouth wide open. “I see it now.” She whispers, her jaw dropping again. 

Your eyebrows raise to her in response but a glare reaches as your face as you turn around, something in you stupidly angry about this. Good. Look from afar. 

-

The drive down is filled to the brim with unbridled anticipation, neither one saying much as you watch the pretty lights pass by on the way to the unspecified restaurant. 

He places his hand on your thigh, thumb caressing it gently. Your dress is just long enough for his pinky to touch your leg but the rest lay on the soft material. “You look gorgeous, by the way.” He compliments you, and you suddenly realize he’s barely watching the road. 

“Hmm.” You answer, nodding at the road. “My heart stopped when I opened the door, you are unfairly handsome.”

“Unfairly?” Eddie asks, voice incredulous at your word choice. 

“Mmhmm.” 

He chuckles, suddenly making a left turn into a group of scattered restaurants and your breath hitches, wondering, no. 

Holy fuck, it is. 

He pulls up and you’re peering up at what is known as the most expensive restaurant in town, the kind of place you only went with when your parents were celebrating an anniversary or something and were paying.

The kind of place that had good ass food, but you need to be able to pay minimum, 100 per person. The wine is automatically served, and the only music is a light piano melody. “Wanted to take you out for a treat. Somewhere I know damn well men your age can’t afford.”

That sentence alone drenches the lacy panties you wore. 

He walks to your side after getting out, opening the door for you. The act isn’t much, something a man or two has done before him, but from him, it was like a goddamn touch of Midas. 

The low light and piano music engulfs you, the conversation low as you see everyone is dressed in their best. You find yourself intimidated but Eddie walks in like he belongs. 

Cause he does. 

He asks for a reservation under his last name, and the waitress finds it right away. You can’t help but notice the way her eyes light up and damn, you usually don’t describe yourself as the jealous type but when it comes to him it's hard not to be. 

As you get to your booth, Eddie takes off his jacket, revealing his sleeves up to his elbows, and it’s literally mouth watering. He does it so swiftly, and before you can even sit, he holds his hand out for your jacket as well. You take it off to hand it over, which he hangs ever so gently over his jacket on the hook. 

Your hostess asks for drinks, Eddie asks for the drink menu and some water, you ask for water as well, hoping to find a suitable cocktail when the menu comes along. 

The low lighting is flattering on him sitting across from you, and all his attention is on you, even as his eyes roam the menu. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you finally ask Eddie for his story, something even through the lust you’ve had a desire to know. 

He describes growing up in Hawkins, Indiana, a rebel without a cause with a touch for the dramatics and running a role play DnD group. He describes his struggles as he failed grade twelve twice due to a large population chalking it up to laziness when in reality no one listened to his inability to sit down long enough to learn anything. He tells you about this group of friends he made in his final and successful attempt at grade 12, the ones that eventually kicked his ass into gear and none of them he would’ve been here without, and though they were all older like him, you hoped one day you’d be lucky enough to meet them face-to-face. 

His attempt at college, realizing it wasn’t for him and dropping out a semester in when a local mechanic he knew offered an apprenticeship spot at his garage.

2 years into it, he finds out he enjoys it and he made enough money to move out. At 22 he meets a woman who comes into his shop with a check engine light on, and that was how he met Dylan's mom. You fought so hard not to roll your eyes as he described building a life with her and finding out she was pregnant, but it was hard not to be jealous. 

Apparently she was the perfect mom from the outside, her connection to her son was unbeatable. Eddie soon found out she was having an affair with one of her co-workers, the same one she had told him time and time again that, no, of course he didn’t have a crush on her, that’s silly. 

(They were fucking the whole time.)

If anything, it was the reason he had let Dylan find out so quickly. An affair would’ve made it ten times worse. 

He finishes off, describing how difficult it was to raise him after she ran off with the co-worker, eventually finding something that worked for them. All in all, he was proud of the person he had raised Dylan to become, hopeful for their relationship. 

You hung onto every word he told you through that meal like he had hung the moon and the stars. As he finishes, wiping his hands on his napkin as he ate, your eyes fixated on his forearms flexing, he apologizes, claiming he felt bad for talking the whole time.

“Oh, I could listen to you for hours.” It falls out of your mouth before you could stop it.

“Well I’m sick of myself. Tell me about you.” He comments, so you did. 

You tell him about being raised in the small town in rural America, being a teenager in the 2010s a slight difference than in the late 90s. Your stupid first boyfriend who dumped you as soon as he slept with you, your mom who meant well but often valued the opinions of others over her daughters needs and wants, your stoner of a best friend who had an opinion that you valued most of all, and how you met your current roommate through a facebook ad but it turned out you really clicked. 

Your story had no beginning and no end, just going off your life based on what you felt like you had wanted to tell him. 

“Dylan is a good boyfriend, by the way.” Eddie laughed at the absurdity of your sentence, all plates in front of you containing any food long gone while you had your third cocktail and Eddie drank some whiskey. Were you a bit tipsy? Yes. That sentence couldn’t have left your mouth without it. “After the lack of commitment on a stupid amount of dudes, his willingness to go all in, as we said that’s what we had both wanted, was exceedingly refreshing.” You took another gulp of it, the sugary drink hitting nicely. “He was stable, kind, thoughtful, but something was missing. In him I felt safety.” You pause, looking at him. “In you, I feel freedom.” 

The conversation moved away from Dylan, thank God. As he asks for one more before the bill you can't help yourself. “Where do you see this going?” You gulp, scratching your nose, and paying close attention to your glass. “If you say anything other than long term, I might be sick.”

To Eddie, your level of honesty was refreshing. “Baby, anything but long-term has never been an option to me.”

Eddie gives his credit card to the waitress, a moon eyed girl who he had barely paid attention to. Either because he was being courteous with his attention or he just didn’t bother when you were right in front of him, it didn’t matter, but the thing itself gave you immense satisfaction. (It was the latter, for the record. Eddie had barely noticed her.)

As he helped you back into your jacket, slipping on his own, a feeling of intense satisfaction, pure bliss invaded your entire system. There was no first date that would ever be as good as this one. The set up, picking you up, the nice ass restaurant, the easy conversation, and lastly, the knowledge that when you got to his, he would be all over you, and you him. 

Nothing was ever gonna be this good. 

Good. You didn’t want anyone or anything but him. 

-

Your head found his shoulder on the way back to his place, hands intertwined on your lap on the silent ride home, soft rock playing on his radio. As his truck reaches his driveway, you notice it's empty. Eddie picked up on this as your head perks up upon the observation. 

“Asked if he could crash at a friend’s place tonight.” Eddie explains, having placed the truck in park, sitting back in his seat. “We got the place to ourselves.” 

You grinned giddily, and you weren’t sure if it was the three and a half drinks or the troublesome feeling of your lacy panties being thoroughly soaked, but you were out his truck door before he could even register it. He climbs out, quickly shuffling behind you and he makes a giggle pour out of you as he scares you as you wait patiently at the door for him to unlock it. 

He kisses your neck as he reaches in with one hand to unlock the door, and you open it and turn to him, yanking on the collar of his leather jacket. “Need you.” You mutter in between kisses, only in the entrance of the house but if you took another step without kissing him, you were gonna lose your mind. “Want. You.” 

Your need is outrageously attractive, Eddie leaning into every kiss you've given him with the same amount of fervor, his hands holding your waist and fisting at the deliciously beautiful dress you had worn. You just had this dress? Waiting around? And you hadn’t blessed anyone with the perfect sight that was you dressed in it until now? What a goddamn sin.

It’ll be a shame when it hits the floor but this dress is only second to how goddamn good you looked naked as far as Eddie's concerned. Speaking of which���

Eddie continually kisses you, pulling you in against him, your breath hitches pulling your coat off and letting it fall to the floor. He backs you up to the stairs, and your foot hits the first step up, and as you’re starting to climb backwards Eddie pushes his body on yours, forcing you to sit. He takes it a step further by leaning in to kiss your neck, and your back falls onto the steps as well, just like he was hoping. Your legs open, welcoming his hips into yours. 

Eddie only starts with soft kisses, just to smell your perfume and to feel your skin beneath his lips. “This dress, baby, this dress.” He pauses, a look of lust deep within his brown eyes. “Oh, fuck, this dress.” He couldn’t seem to tell you anything else, but you were thankful the gut feeling that told you to buy it was right. You tug on his collar, pulling it down his back to take it off.

Eddie assists you, letting the jacket fall clumsily down the three steps.

“My dress? This shirt!” You gasp, gripping onto it softly. “You look so good. The buttons undone on the top were..” You sigh as he kisses his way down to your shoulder. “…a nice touch.”

His hand pushes up your dress, hands roughly smoothing up your thigh, and one gets to the lacey panties. As his hand brushes the panties to take them off he gives you a manic smile. He takes them off, slowly, head against your shoulder as he does so. As the pair is taken off your foot, he inhales sharply at the sight of them, holding them in front of your body where he can see them. You see his hands touch where you soaked it all night, playing with the slick that has already gathered. “You’re not getting these back.”

He tosses them back playfully, going back to attack your neck. Eventually he leaves kisses all down your torso, and he kisses down your clothed thigh before making a big show of lifting the dress hem up, kissing along your thigh again. Only this time, your thigh wasn’t covered, and it was towards your now uncovered and absolutely throbbing cunt. As he moves closer, you start to whine, as with each kiss he adds more wetness, more tongue. Finally his mouth is right next to your core, and with his head in your skirt, he reaches for each leg to put them on his shoulders. 

He goes straight in, tongue attacking your clit, your still covered feet dig into his back and a choked out moan leaves your throat. Eddie’s lips leave your pussy, his shining eyes in your sight as he popped his head from underneath your dress. “Be loud, show me how much you love my tongue all over your pussy. C’mon. Wanna hear you. If I catch you holding back again you’ll be sorry.” He leans in without another thought, and his tongue takes no time to continue. 

“Oh, fuck!” You felt slightly embarrassed by it, but you were more worried about what he meant at the end there, by you’ll be sorry. If he edged you just for the hell of it, what was he gonna do as a punishment? “Your tongue, feels so fucking good, Ed.”

“Tastes—” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Tastes like heaven. Love your sweet, perfect, beautiful pussy.” The acoustics of talking through your dress didn’t make sense, but you could hear him loud and clear. “Look how wet this pussy is already for me, just dripping, oh fuck.”

“Fuck, you look, fuck, so good Ed. So fucking hot.” 

“You were wet from my appearance alone?” Eddie asks, peering up at you from behind your dress.

“Since the first time I met you.” You gasp out, leaning onto your elbows on the step but finding your head heavy on your neck to look up at him.

“Jesus christ.” You smiled down at him, hand reaching forward for him. He interlocks his with yours and keeps it there as he dives back in your dress. Something feels different…the heat concentrates on your clit as he feverishly attacks it. 

“Holy shit--!” You cry out, jerking your upper body forward. “Ed, holy fuck keep doing that.” His other hand joins him, hooking into you and immediately connecting with your g-spot. As you get closer, he can feel your hand tighten on his own as your moans lose all inhibition and you whine, all high pitched, the sound echoing beautifully in the empty house. “Ed, fuck—” Your orgasm snuck up on you, the heat expanding through your thighs and legs until the edge hits you in a silent scream, and you gush all over his face and your dress and the stairs. 

Thank god Eddie had hardwood. 

He comes out from your dress, and you look at him in disbelief. “What—” you start, still unraveling. “I don’t even—” 

“C’mon.” He mutters, kissing your forehead. You follow him up to his room, knees already weak but moving anyway. 

Your bodies collide with one another, lips mashing in hot, dirty kisses. “Need to fuck you now.” Eddie breathes, his hands working at the zipper on your back. The dress drops to reveal what he already knew, and that it was you weren't wearing a bra. “Perfect fucking tits, fuck.”

He tugs at his belt and untucks his pants, making him look like a horny teenager. Maybe not horny, just a few drinks in. But when he had what he called the hottest girlfriend, he felt like anyone could hardly blame him. His pants fly off and he undoes the last few buttons on his shirt before he yanks it off by the back. 

When he’s finally undressed, he pauses as he gets a good look at you, the both of you ridiculously exposed. “Fuck. Am I so goddamn lucky I get to spend my night with you?”

“Just kiss me.” You tell him, reaching out for him and he lurches forward, wrapping his hands in your hair and taking your lips in a wet kiss. He leads you to his bed, taking step by step as you fall backwards onto it, and none of it is awkward, just perfect. He crawls on top as your leg makes its way around his hips, and he can’t even bother to tease you because if he doesn’t get his cock inside you he is gonna lose it. 

You didn’t expect it so soon, usually getting a tease but the shock pulls out a loud moan from you, Eddie moaning at the same time as he pushes himself into you. He puts his forehead against yours, eyes closed. Yours are too, taking in the feeling of his cock inside you. No matter how many times, it's like you forgot how fucking good it felt, every time. 

“God. I didn’t know a pussy could feel this…fuck.” He mutters as his words make you tighten around him. “Fucking intoxicating.” He leans in to nip lightly against your neck, whispering into your skin. “Can’t fucking get enough of it. And when I—” he lips his hips out of yours, fucking into you slowly, “—fuck you, there’s nothing fucking better.” 

His hips continue, his head remaining in your neck, his body against yours as he just feels you against him. Your hands roam the muscles of his back, nails digging in as his hips gradually fuck you harder. “You always take my cock so goddamn well, baby. Such a good whore for me.” 

You whimper; all coherent thought gone as the feeling of him is pure perfection. 

“Fucking love your cock in me Ed! Fuck, just like- just like that.” 

“Oh, I know you love my cock. You moan like a whore for it. Let me hear you baby.” 

The whines you didn’t realize you were holding back came out of your mouth and he grabbed your hair harshly, and you let out a higher one. “Don’t hold back, remember?”

You nod your head, a restricted move because of his hold on you. Eddie lets go, his hand framing your face delicately. He leans in to kiss you, fierce and protective. “God, you’re so much more…more than I had ever wanted…ever hoped for…” his voice is softer now, whispering into your neck. 

“Ed. You’re so good…to me. So lucky.” 

He places a hand on your clit, rubbing gently at it. “Fuck, baby I’m gonna cum. Cum with me?”

“What am I gonna say, no? To that?” you gasp out. He chuckles softly, the laughter hot against your neck. 

“Close.” You tell him and he picks up the pace, holding back a bit for you. “Eddie I—” and a full moan leaves your lips and as you tighten around him, his hips rutting into you. 

Eddie moans loudly as he cums, a sound you wouldn’t blame angels for if they had used at the gates of heaven. 

His weight is heavy on you, having collapsed. He kisses whatever skin he can reach, your shoulder, collarbone, jawline, corner of your mouth before wrapping your lips in a kiss you can only describe as breathtakingly romantic. 

Fuck were you falling, falling hard. And as Eddie lay on top of you for a solid ten minutes, caressing your skin and kissing you softly, still inside you while basking in the afterglow, he is thinking the exact same thing.

Also that he needs to clean the stairs before Dylan gets home. 

-

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[it-was-summer]

Video Killed the Radio Star - Tape #4 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Y'all this chapter took so long to write. This is NOT proofread once again me and Grammarly were beefing because she doesn't understand fanfiction. Nonetheless, it is 12 am MST and here it is. Now for an overall warning, this chapter talks about so much that I was to let everyone know that I meant for this to be a dark series. That was my goal. I'm so sorry if some of these topics seem like they're too heavy for you. If you feel overwhelmed, disgusted, or just find it hard to read please remember that it is okay and you are loved. This chapter mentions miscarriages, eating disorders, gunshot wounds, suicide, etc. I love you all and stay healthy. I will try to post my 500 followers post soon! Not proofread because eepy. YOU'LL read my chapter unedited and you'll like it! (hopefully). Thanks for reading. -Love you all, Em.

Video Killed the Radio Star Remake Masterlist

Link to the Ao3: Video Killed the Radio Star

Previous Chapter: Tape #3 > Next Chapter: Coming Soon...

WARNING: miscarriage, eating disorder, catholic guilt, bisexuality mention??, period underwear, stalking, marital problem, divorce, sexual harassment, guns, knives, gunshot wound, This bitch shoots someone, suicide, mention of a skull, blood so much blood.

Tape Contents: We briefly dive into Heather's past. Adeline makes a call that gives the team a reason to visit the suburbs. Heather makes a decision. You see something other than pink for the first time in four days.

Word Count: 6,296

Seven to Four Years Prior- January 10, 20XX

Heather had to get out of Norfolk. She felt suffocated under her father’s watchful gaze and helicopter ways. He was a hard man to love and hard to be around in general. When he drank, she used to pray that he would forget about her, so she became quiet. She didn’t have many friends here anyway, so she took you out of the equation and knew no one else would know her name. 

So, with a heavy heart, she moved her life away to Richmond. She changed her major to nursing and killed that quiet girl from Norfolk. She fabricated real lies that sometimes she couldn’t separate from reality. She stared at girls silently with longing and played it off as admiration if she was ever caught. Catholic guilt stopped it from growing into anything else. 

She was slow to open up about her feelings and showed people an extroverted sorority girl nursing graduate who liked to go to bars on the weekend and let men’s hands pull at her hips desperately in dark corners. 

Now, at twenty-four, she only thought about one thing: how good her stomach looked in this dress. She had thinned out tremendously since the move. At first, it started due to not having enough money to eat anywhere except the shitty university cafeteria. Then, it warped into something else. During its worst moments, she would log her calories or purge food moments after eating it. She could look into mirrors afterward and feel she was achieving something remarkable. Then, sometimes, she would also look at her face and think, ‘Is that what I look like’? 

But tonight, she wanted to do something different, something fun. Having told her sorority sisters this, they all jumped on board quickly, agreeing to meet at the bar around 10 p.m. that Saturday. They were thirty minutes late. 

Heather was gently fiddling with the hem of her short black dress, her eyes flickering towards the entrance every so often as she waited for them to walk in. This year, she wanted to be happier, less suffering in silence, and a little more smiley. So yes, she wanted to have fun with people she called friends. Despite all her efforts, she was sure they could see right through her sometimes. She swallowed nervously as she nursed a margarita. 

The next time she looked at her phone, she saw texts from her former sisters saying that work had been hectic and that they needed to reschedule for another time. So now, Heather Alexander was right back at square one: alone. She glanced down at her dress and frowned slightly at its tight material. It was the kind of dress that made her uncomfortable but made men comfortable. Something always felt wrong with that. Heather always secretly knew that she felt an attraction to women and men, but she always felt guilty at the thought. 

She sighed as she debated her next move when she saw him. He was the prettiest man she had ever seen. He had soft masculine features that almost looked slightly feminine, a uniform clad against his chest, and a charming boyish smile as their eyes met. Heather whispered a silent prayer that he would like her as he approached her and introduced himself as David Hernandez. How could she not fall for him instantly? Deep brown eyes, pink lips, dark skin, and a low rumble in his voice made her feel like giggling. 

It wasn’t long before the two of them were getting married. They spent a few months together in domestic bliss. He got some time off from work, and she kept her last name, and they were… happy. 

At least they were happy for six months, and then her world shattered around her as David was deployed to England. She cried herself to sleep the night she heard, and David stroked her back softly to calm her. Heather didn’t want him to leave her and see someone better overseas. She was sure that women would throw themselves at David’s feet, begging him to kiss them, touch them, fuck them, like whores in the street of Babylon. She couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else touching him, looking at him the way she looked at him, talking to him the way she did in his ear late at night. She begged him to try and find some way out of it, scared to lose what was rightfully hers, but he couldn’t. He left that week.

At first, it was just six months, but then it stretched out into a year of deployment—a year spent being faithful to a man across the Atlantic. She called him when she had time, wrote letters to him, sent him emails, and constantly contacted him in any way she could. 

When he got home, it was clear that all her efforts had gone to waste. David was distant. He would sulk in corners of their home on his phone. He would lament on and on about how England felt like his home and how he missed it. She couldn’t stand it. This house they bought together was his home, and it always had been. Why was he struggling to see that? 

The more he talked of his deployment, the more Heather became frustrated with him. Then he started to go out more. At first, it was just to speak with some Army friends on base a few spread-out weekends in the month. Then it was every weekend. 

Heather found that the only thing that could keep him home was sex. So they had sex constantly, like animals in heat. Disgusting and rutting against each other any moment they could. However, the second that it was over, he would withdraw again. He would get dressed and say he had to get to the base. 

Then he was coming late, drunk and slurring, as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and woke her up with sensual touches and dirty talk. She took this as a good sign he was coming home to his wife. He was fucking her and no one else. But slowly, he stopped coming home. He would call her late at night to tell her he would stay with a friend for the night. The following day, he would come home smelling sweet. 

Heather felt lost, searching desperately for something to save her marriage. She was devoting all of her love to a man who no longer wanted it, and she could feel him falling out of love with her. 

Her saving grace was the morning that she found out she was pregnant. She called David with tears in her eyes and told him softly over the phone, and she heard him laugh for the first time in months. And just like that, he was back. 

His soft touches, kisses in the grocery store, and dancing with her in the living room were all back. Her devoted and dotting husband had returned home to her. She could feel the dark cloud of the past couple of months dissipate and the sun shining on her. 

That light lasted a good three months. Heather sat up straight as pain coursed through her body, thundering in her abdomen as she shook David awake with tears streaming down her face. Something was wrong with the baby; she knew it. He drove her to the hospital as fast as he could, but it was too late. She had already miscarried.

Heather took a small sabbatical from work and took time to think about her life. She would stare out of their living room window blankly for hours. David was attentive at first, coming home after work and tending to Heather’s broken spirit. But he soon became bored of that routine. 

When Heather returned to the pediatric oncology unit, David was notified that he was being deployed again to Okinawa, Japan. He was packed and ready by the end of that month. She didn’t see him off at the airport, picking up an extra shift at the hospital to distract her from the fact that he was leaving her again. 

David called her two months into his leave to tell her he wasn’t happy. He wanted a divorce. Then he hung up before she could get a word in. That’s when it all started. Her obsession with consuming anything romantic was almost debilitating. She would visit bookstores and attend readings at the public library, sometimes calling off from work to sit at home with her romances. That’s when she saw you again. She thought that you would have stayed in Norfolk. You had once told her that you loved the water. You liked how it could look gloomy and promising on different days, with mist rolling off the surface. 

She tried not to talk to you. She did. She didn’t want to scare you away like she scared David away. No, no, no, she was sure it would all work out this time. So she loved you from a comfortable distance, watching you from her car on the weekends at night, leaving you her gifts on your windshield—a silent courting. 

She couldn’t help herself on Valentine’s Day. She had slipped into Nicole Smith’s room without Adeline recognizing her, and she gave the table with Adeline’s purse on it a gentle knock with her hip. Heather apologized quickly, telling her not to worry. She promptly dropped to the floor to gather the spilled contents from Adeline’s bag, and she slipped a labeled key connected to a keychain that read ‘or die’ into her pocket. Once she had copied the key, she quickly returned the original to its owner. 

She felt electric when she entered your apartment on Valentine's Day in a dark outfit, a hood covering her face, and four dozen rose petals in a container. She breathed in your perfume as she perused through your bathroom. She traced the spine of every book she could touch on your shelves. She gently dove into your dirty hamper and quickly pulled out a pair of dirty underwear, blood on the inside of them as she shamelessly slipped them into her pocket. Then she got to work spreading the petals throughout your apartment. By the end, she stared at her work, panting lightly as she lay across on your rose-covered bed. 

She had to have you. 

Present Day- March 5, 20XX

Derek and Spencer managed to get to the public library an hour before closing. They pulled your coworker, Valerie, aside. She was a pretty brunette, glasses resting on her face delicately as she stared at the two men with a soft look of disappointment. She knew that if they were here, they had yet to find you, and the thought made her feel like breaking down in a fit of tears. She fought the urge to cry as Derek asked her a question, sliding a copy of the Polaroid you had received on your windshield. “Do you happen to remember anyone coming in with a Polaroid camera?” 

Valerie stared at the Polaroid with a soft frown, trying to remember something helpful. Spencer spoke quickly, “Sometime around January fourteenth, maybe?”

Valerie chewed on her bottom lip before the memory washed over her, “Yes! Yes, oh gosh, she was blonde, I think. I remember telling her we didn’t like flash photography in the library. I only saw the back of her head, but I remember the back of her head and the flash of a camera.” 

Spencer tilted his head slightly and nodded at Valerie’s words, processing the information silently.“Are you sure it was a woman?” Spencer asked softly before Valarie enthusiastically nodded. 

“Yes, it was definitely a woman who took the picture.” She confirmed in a soft voice before she looked down at the Polaroid with a gentle tenderness in her eyes. “She baked me cookies last week, you know?” She looked up at the two men with a sad smile and tears in her eyes. “My cat is sick, and she made me cookies to make me feel better.” She laughed sadly as the tears started to fall. 

Derek placed a soft hand over Valerie’s and gave her a tender look, “We’re looking for her,” The words caused a shaky sigh to escape Valarie’s lips as she pulled her hand away quickly and stood up. 

Her cheeks were red as she cried out a soft “Excuse me.” before she turned on her heel and hurriedly left the room. 

Spencer picked up the picture and stared at you in the photo. The way your hair shined in the fluorescent light, your eyes and smile trained directly on the person you were talking to. You were personable, and the thought made his stomach turn. He looked over at Derek as Spencer handed the photo back to him. 

The two men walked out of the library silently, and Derek let out a soft sigh as he watched the sun starting to settle against the horizon. Spencer walked beside him with his hand stuffed in his pockets, and his head hung a little low in thought. 

Derek broke the silence first, “We should get back to the station to see if JJ and Rossi have anything,” 

And then they rode back in contemplative silence after that. 

March 6, 20XX

You weren’t sure if it was day or night anymore. All you knew was that you were starting to feel uneven. Every creak of wood, settling of pipes, and rumble of the house had your back straightening against the bed. You were sure that Heather would fly in at any moment and touch you. 

A million options weighed heavy in your mind at the scenario; you could fight back again, but that would get you sliced again or worse. You could go with it, zone out as much as possible, let her have her way with you. That option made your head spin with nausea. You had to find a way to get out. 

You licked at the gash on your lip, gently exploring the cut with your tongue until you could feel the warmth of blood again. You pushed your tongue back into your mouth and looked over at your day-old apple on the nightstand, half-eaten and brown. You tenderly took a small bite that wouldn’t require you to move your lips too much. 

You didn’t have much of the day-old meal left; a half-full water and this apple was all you had. You chewed softly, fighting off the nausea that threatened to creep in due to the morphine. 

You tried to remember anything that could be helpful to you. It was hard to think of high doses of morphine. You had played with the knob often; when you were ready to sleep, it would go up, and when you were up, it would turn down. But lately, you just wanted it to be turned up. 

You tried to think of when Heather came into the pink room. She always stuffed her keys into her pockets. A plan was in the making: Get her out of her clothes, and you could get the keys. 

You nodded a little despite your discomfort with the idea of her touching you again. You just had to seduce her a little, which should be easy considering that she was ‘in love’ with you. The only problem with that plan was that you had a mangled ankle and a body running on morphine; she didn’t. Heather’s temper was quick when you talked back, and rage followed if you did something against her liking. 

Maybe begging would work. No, you tried that already. Why would begging work? Perhaps you could hurt yourself just enough to force her to take you to the hospital. But that didn’t work either; she was a nurse. She wouldn’t incriminate herself like that, would she? Maybe total submission would be the key. 

Convince her that you love her back and somehow ask to be let out with her supervision, but that could take forever. 

You started to cry softly as you set down the core of the apple and laid down, wishing to pull your legs to your chest, but the pain of one ankle and the chain around the other made that physically impossible. 

You cried until you felt your eyelids become heavy, tears still slipping out of your eyes as you fell into a morphine-induced sleep. 

March 6, 20XX

JJ paced back and forth in front of the bulletin board, occasionally flicking her eyes over to the photos pinned to it as she tried to chase what was likely to be a loose end. The number that had called yours and left a message full of sobs had been a burner. 

Spencer had tried to tell her to eat something this morning, but as the clock’s hands crept towards nine a.m., she still didn’t feel hungry enough to try. She sighed out another frustrated huff as Emily appeared in front of her. “If you sigh like that one more time, I think I might have to force a croissant down your throat.” 

JJ gave her another dramatic sigh before she put her hands on her hips: “I’m sorry, I just feel like we have no leads. We know it's a woman, but Adeline isn’t likely to be the unsub, and all her coworkers have alibis. It just feels like we are running around with our heads cut off.” 

Emily smiled and gave her a gentle nod of understanding, “I get it, but you pacing around like this isn’t helping anyone. Let’s get you a drink, coffee, or maybe something to eat.” 

“People who eat breakfast consistently are twenty-five percent likely to be more productive at work,” Spencer spoke up from a desk not too far from the two women. 

Emily pointed over at Spencer, “See? You’re making Spencer freak out.” 

“I’m not freaked out,” Spencer frowned at the comment before looking back at a file on the desk. 

JJ’s smile was slow as she let her hands fall to her side and let out a soft, “Fine.” She agreed as Emily walked over to the precinct's breakroom, JJ following her. 

Derek was clicking a pen obnoxiously in an off-beat rhythm. He was about to say something when his phone started to ring on his desk. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered it anyway. “Hello?” 

“Hi, uhm, is this Special Agent Morgan?” Adeline’s voice was shaky through the phone. 

Derek relaxed slightly as he set down his pen. “Yeah, Adeline. Did something happen?” He couldn’t think of another reason as to why she would call the number he had left with her if nothing happened. He was too focused on the case to think of any other reason anyway. 

“Yeah, maybe? I was talking to one of the nurses about something today, and I recognized one of them. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner, but it was an old friend from college. She was more Y/N’s friend than mine, but I talked to her a little.” Adeline’s voice dropped to a whisper as she continued, “I mentioned that she was missing, and Heather had a weird reaction. She smiled for a second. I swear, she said she was sad to hear that, but she looked… well, for a second, it just seemed like maybe she was happy.” 

Derek picked the pen back up again, ready to write down a name. It wasn’t much, but they could visit her. “What was her name again?” 

“Gosh, it was Heather something… Heather, Heather, Heather,” She bit her lip as she tried to think back. “Alexander! Heather Alexander.” 

Derek wrote it down and muttered quickly, “We'll look into it, thanks.” As a goodbye, he let Adeline quickly thank him over the phone before he hung up and called Penelope. 

Penelope, quick as always, picked up on the first ring. “Center of divine intellect,” was her greeting. 

“Good morning to you, too, baby girl. Listen, could you get Heather Alexander's address? Adeline Smith called saying that she had a strange reaction to hearing about our girl going missing.” 

“Easy,” was her answer before Derek could hear the sounds of keys being tapped against and a soft humming sound emitting from Penelope’s lips as she pulled up the address: “4432 Lake Margaret Pl., Chesterfield, Virginia.” 

“You are an angel, Garcia.” 

“I always aim to please,” 

“And you never fail, baby girl.” 

JJ had begged Derek with her eyes to let her go with Spencer. It was just an interview, not even an interrogation, just to see if the connection between you and Heather went deeper than old college friends. So why shouldn’t she go? 

Derek wasn’t one to put up a big fight, so he let her with Spencer. It was only thirty minutes away anyway, so if they needed the team it wouldn’t take too long for them to show up, right? He stayed behind on the phone with Garcia, who was doing her best to see if Heather had any criminal history on her record. 

As the car rolled around the cul de sac, Spencer’s eyes struggled to look away from the plethora of plants in the fenced-in front yard. Pink anemones were scattered amongst daffodils, and what looked like daisies were blooming side by side. JJ rolled the car to a stop, parking it against the curb. 

“Pretty yard,” She muttered as she took the keys out of the ignition. Spencer nodded a little; he had to admit that Spring came in a close second to Fall as the superior season in his mind. The flowers growing after frozen earth had kept them dormant, the welcomed feeling of the sun getting slightly warmer. It was still somewhat chilly at ten in the morning as he stepped out of the car with JJ, but he had to admit, it was shaping up to be a beautiful day weather-wise. 

His head tilted back a little as he stole a glance at the blue sky above them and smiled before stuffing his hands into his pockets and tilting his head toward the house. JJ smiled and walked beside him, happy to be out of the precinct and in the early morning air.

Heather was washing the paring knife she had used on you in her kitchen sink, facing a large bay window in her living room. She swiped at the hardened blood and frowned a little at the memory. Why was she so upset with you? She could hardly remember herself when she got angry like that. 

It was almost fitting, her flying off the handle over something so simple as you not being ready for her love. Was she no better than a man? Had she gotten so accustomed to men's vile and sharp ways that she had somehow forgotten how to be gentle? 

She felt her hands shake as a voice came into her head, whispering her worst fear: She was worse than her father. 

She let tears blur her vision at the thought as she rubbed the knife harder with a sponge, shaking her head quickly. No, no, no, no. She was not like that man. She was not cold like that man. She was lovable. She felt love. She felt overwhelming love for you. She had felt overwhelming love for David. 

Her downward spiral was cut short as she lifted her weeping head and saw a black SUV parked in front of her yard. She quickly wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand and sniffled lightly as she gently slid the knife into the dishwasher, watching two people get out of the van. 

Heather’s eyes were glued to the blonde at first, pretty and fair in the morning sun before her eyes flickered to the man beside her. She recognized him immediately. She was sure it was the same man she almost ran into at the hospital yesterday. 

She dried her hands as she walked around the kitchen island. As they got closer, her head arched to see how close they were. Panic was running through her veins. Her gun was in her room upstairs, loaded. She just had to get upstairs; her feet were quick to try and run upstairs and stash it somewhere close before they could ring the doorbell. Just as the idea seemed plausible enough, the bell rang through the house. 

Heather let out a silent scream of panic as she smoothed out her shirt, fixed her hair, and caught a quick glance of her pretty face in the mirror near the front door before she swung it open with a pleasantly fake smile on her face. Her eyes quickly scanned both of their faces as she smiled. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, hi. My name is Jennifer Jareau. This is Spencer Reid. We’re with the FBI, and we were just wondering if we could ask you some questions.” JJ spoke clearly as she flashed her badge at Heather, a slight smile on her lips as she looked into Heather’s eyes. Spencer recognized her, finding it strange that he had almost run directly into the beautiful woman at the hospital just the day before. 

Heather laughed softly and nodded as she stepped aside, opening the door wider to let the two agents inside. “Of course,” Her hands were shaking, but she gripped the edge of the door tightly, half tempted to slam it directly in their faces and go upstairs to shoot Catherine and herself to freedom.  

They weren’t on to her yet; she was sure of that– especially given their lack of people– just two against one. She was quick to shut the door behind them before leading the two of them into her living room. “Can I get you two any water? I have some juice.” 

The two agents shook their heads in a polite ‘no, thank you’ way as they sat on the sofa across from Heather. Heather sat on a chair with a soft “Okay” as she eyed them carefully. “Am I in some kind of trouble here?” 

“No, We just wanted to ask you a few questions regarding an old college friend of yours, Y/N L/N.” 

“Well,” She smoothed out her long skirt slowly, remembering to breathe normally, “What about her?” 

“Had you been in contact with her at all? Did she mention anything about someone following her?” 

Heather let out a gentle laugh as she shook her head, “I haven’t really had the time to reach out to old friends lately,” 

Spencer’s interest peaked as he joined the conversation, “How come?” 

Heather’s gaze became a little pointed at the question. Of course, the man has to ask her, “I lost a baby recently, and my husband was deployed soon after, so forgive me for not becoming pen pals with someone I knew at eighteen.” The words were direct and vicious, but she couldn’t help herself. She blew out a soft sigh before she let out a gentle and timid, “I’m sorry,” 

Spencer licked his lips nervously as he leaned back against the sofa slightly, trying to resist the urge to disappear into it. Self-isolation wasn’t uncommon for women who had recently suffered from a miscarriage. That feeling more than likely increased as her support system was ripped away from her. 

JJ gently touched Spencer’s knee before she cut the tension. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Alexander. We’re just trying to piece some information together.” 

Heather ran a hand through her hair before she gave JJ a tight-lipped smile. “I understand that; I’m sorry. Would it be alright if I ran upstairs for some medicine? I feel a headache coming on.” She spoke fast with a tense voice, trying her hardest to pass it off as pain with a rub of her temple. When JJ nodded, she stood up and headed upstairs as calmly as she could manage. 

JJ looked over at Spencer, watching Heather walk away carefully. “She seems angrier with men than anything.” Her voice was slightly amused before Spencer frowned. 

“Doesn’t mean she’s in the clear; stalking is often a form of intense infatuation, but it's also used as a way to control something. She’s struggling with two things that could be our stressors: she’s craving control or dependency. She-” The soft ringing of his phone cut off his whispered rant. He answered it, happy that at least it was just Garcia calling, hoping for a better lead than his ongoing hunch. 

He stood and looked at JJ, who was mouthing for him to go outside, “Hey,” He answered as he slipped out of the front door. 

“Hey, nothing is coming up anywhere on Heather’s record for criminal activity—sorority sister, wife, nurse, clean as a whistle. However, considering we don’t have much right now, I decided to see if she had any warnings at work.” 

“Right,” Spencer looked over his shoulder at the front door as he walked away to stand in front of the garage. 

“Well, last month, she got a write-up for stealing some morphine; her supervisor forced her to go see a therapist after Heather said that she was using it for some leftover pain she was experiencing after her miscarriage. But Heather never showed,” 

Spencer was walking a little further down the driveway as he listened to Garcia talk on the phone, counting the number of windows in the house. His eyes narrowed slightly to try and block out the sun before he looked away. He licked his bottom lip gently before acting on his little hunch, “Could you check her credit report? See if there are any purchases that you can find that seem odd around March third?” 

“Could I check her credit report,” Garcia repeated with a laugh, “Hold on, boy genius.” 

Spencer could see the top of JJ’s head from the bay window, and he turned away slightly, finding ease in the fact that she was still there. Something felt off, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. “She went to the store, but nothing crazy. Bought,” He could hear typing, “Bleach and rubbing alcohol.” 

Spencer chewed on the inside of his cheek as he asked, “When was her husband deployed again? Did she buy anything from a florist around Valentine’s Day?” 

“Husband was deployed December first and,” she hummed gently before she sighed, “Bought some flowers on Valentine’s day, rose petals.” 

Spencer felt that feeling when something connected in his brain, a rush of adrenaline as he felt his hunch slowly turn into a plausible accusation. The roses were just that, roses. But the bleach and rubbing alcohol? That’s a recipe for chloroform right there. And finally, Heather’s husband was deployed at the beginning of December, stressor number two. It made him feel slightly hopeful about walking back into the house. “Thanks, Garcia.” He said as his feet reached the end of the driveway. He hung up the phone, walking back towards the house at a fast pace when the familiar and startling 'crack' of a gun reached his ears. 

His hands drew his gun out of the holster, running back towards the house. He pushed the front door open with his foot as he heard the thumping of footsteps running on the stairs. He rounded the corner to the living room before lowering his gun as he saw JJ bleeding from a bullet wound in her thigh. 

“JJ!” His voice panicked as he reached her groaning side, kneeling low to the ground next to her. “What happened?” 

JJ shook her head quickly, “I’m calling for backup. She ran upstairs. She didn’t even try to,” her eyes squeezed shut tightly as a sharp pain rattled through her inner thigh, “Just go!” She urged him as she reached down for the phone in her back pocket, her free hand pressing on her gushing wound to try and slow the bleeding. 

Spencer’s eyes were filled with uncertainty as he let out a soft, “No, I’ll stay here until everyone gets-” 

“Spencer, go!” 

Spencer felt his spine straighten at the second command. He gave her a grim nod as he stood up, readied his gun, and started for the stairs. His footsteps were soft and calculated as he ascended, pink light flooding the floor as he approached the top of the stairs. He could hear gentle begging in a voice too soft and thick to be Heather’s. 

“Please, Heather, please, my love. Don’t, please don’t.” Repetitive cries for mercy made his legs move faster until he approached an opened door. The regular-looking bedroom door gave way to a steel one just behind it before revealing the scene of what looked like a demented love nest. 

Spencer swallowed a lump in his throat as he took in the scene. Gun pointed carefully at Heather as he spoke, “Heather, put down the gun. You love her. You don’t want to hurt her. You know that.” 

Heather jumped a little at the sound, her pistol clicking softly as her sweaty palms tightened their grip. She was quick to turn her body around to face him with the gun aimed directly at him as she spoke. “Don’t pretend like you know me or her. You don’t know our relationship. She wants this just as much as I do.” 

“You know she doesn’t look at her. Look at what you’re doing to her.” 

Heather’s eyes drifted to you, chained to the bed, watching as you hyperventilate softly. Heather felt her bottom lip quiver before she looked back at Spencer. “She’s just scared. You’re making me do this. She knows you’re making me do this.” 

Spencer’s eyes drifted to your crying form on the bed, trying to keep your sobs quiet as you stared at him with wild eyes. He glanced over at the morphine drip next to your bed before his eyes settled back on Heather. His lips parted to say something more, but she cut him off quickly, “Put your gun down, and I won’t do it.” 

Heather’s body language gives her away as she motions for him to put his gun down, her eyes crazed and large, her hands shaking and rigid against her pistol. “I’m not going to-” 

“Put your fucking, gun down, or she dies,” Heather yells so loud that it elicits a soft sob from your lips, your arms coming up to protect your head, ready for the shot to be administered and for your brains to be blown out in front of Spencer in that very moment. 

Spencer holds up both of his hands at that; he swears he can hear the soft sounds of sirens in the distance as he lowers his gun to the floor slowly, his foot gently kicking the gun away with a soft ‘clack.’

“Now you,” his calm voice says as he raises his hands, inching closer. Tears stream down Heather’s face now as she shakes her head gently. 

“I have to,” Is her tear-soaked reply as she keeps the barrel pointed at Spencer’s head, her fingers twitching lightly as they move for the trigger. Your shaking voice cuts through the scene, and Spencer is pretty sure it’s the only thing that is stopping him from diving for his gun a few feet from him. 

“Heather, baby,” Your voice betrays you as you speak the pet name, coming off a little too forced, but you continue anyway. “He can help. You don’t have to hurt anyone else. We can be happy, and we can get away. He can help, right?” Your arms relax around your head slowly as you look over at Spencer, who nods silently. 

“I can, but you have got to put your gun down.” 

Heather chokes out a strangled sob as she looks over at you, watching as you smile at her. You know it’s forced, but Heather can only view it as the prettiest thing she’s ever seen—a great parting gift. 

She feels spit thick on her tongue as she evaluates her options: kill Spencer and go to jail. Kill you, and she might not have enough time to kill herself. Killing herself seems like the best plan out of the three, so she holds her gun steady at Spencer as she looks at your now bleeding smile. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Her voice is soft, almost so human that you feel your heart clench in pity before that clenching feeling turns into pure anxiety as you see the movement of her arm. Spencer’s feet aren't quick enough for him to tackle her to the ground as Heather raises the gun to her temple and pulls the trigger. 

Her body drops to the edge of the bed, sliding down it as you feel blood coat your legs. Your ears are ringing, and your mouth is wide open as you scream. At least you think you’re screaming. You can’t hear much but a pathetic muffle of the sound as the ringing in your ears increases.

Your hands are quick to try and wipe off chunks of what looks to be part of a skull off of your exposed stomach, and you can’t seem to stop staring at Heather’s limp body at the edge of the bed. The image of her mangled head oozing blood has you gagging softly, feeling yourself getting ready to be sick before you feel two hands cup your face. 

You’re screaming or sobbing; you can’t tell anymore as Spencer Reid’s face blocks the view. He keeps your face steady in his hands as you try to read his lips, your breathing heavy as he strokes your hair gently. His voice creeps in through the ringing until you eventually hear the soft repetition of, “I got you, look at me. Just keep looking at me; you’re safe.”

You feel your breathing slow, your arms reaching up to grab him before your eyes roll back as your body slumps against Spencer’s, and everything is engulfed in black.

Tag List: @dollykisses4reid @babyspiderling @cocobean16 @kodzukenie333 @mmmunson

[stormblessed95]

Hello,

I hope you have recovered fully or are recovering well.

I only wanted to say this because I am an over thinker and someone needs to tell me to shut up. I don't have any Jikook fans in real life so these are the places I vent.

I think I am either the majority or.the minority depending on which space we are in that thinks and feels that Jikook are distant and have been for a while. I don't think like only because of the car scene. Even when they are taking photos, they aren't doing it like they used to do before. Before if one of them was taking a photo of the two, generally they would be attached at the hips and in each other's face. I didnt notice them doing that in the first two episodes but I also just saw a small clip from Sapporo and they are also taking a pic but they are but distant from each other. I know it might be some miniscule to you but these are few of the instances where I felt that their relationship was beyond friendship.

I know I am over thinking it but I don't know, I don't feel as good about it I suppose. What happened to the Jikook that would literally smooshed their faces together for a photo? What happened to Jikook that were always seen hanging out prior to the hiatus. I heard about them hanging out all the time.

Yes they were busy and I get that. Jimin specially seems to have been super duper busy but he seems to have built a deeper relationship with the Hyung like but kep.a distance from the Maknae line so I am a bit confused I suppose. Out of all the BTS members, I always assumed Jikook were it and nothing would come in between so I am surprised to see work coming in between them?

I still feel like shiiitttt lol but I had to start work today anyway. Thanks for checking in though 💜

Listen, I'm not here to tell you what to think or tell you what your opinion should be. Think whatever you want. I'm sorry to say, but I'm not ever going to be the one to talk you into shipping Jikook. You think they aren't together, that's totally good by me! I hope you still love and support them as BTS, and I hope you have a wonderful day and enjoy any part of the fandom you continue to participate in, including mine if you stick around anyway on my blog.

I'm just here to present facts and let you draw your own conclusions based off that. And sometimes share my opinions about them, but only with the caveat that no one steals MY opinion and must create their own 😉

So for the facts, babygirl (I use as a gender neutral terms), for as many selcas as Jikook took like this:

They took JUST as many like this, which are (edging into opinion territory just a bit here) just the same as the glimpses we've gotten of selcas taken from AYS

Close together for the selfie, but not smushed as close as they could possibly get without just going ahead and crawling inside each other. Just a normal cutesy photo

More facts! As for hanging out prior to the hiatus (where I guess now it's assumed they never saw each other not even once, which is opinion and assumption, not fact), I have a post already done about all the times Jikook were spotted hanging out outside of work (because BTS time is work).

Hint: it's less often than you think

Double hint: they were still glued at the hip, we just know they were because they say and act like they were, not because we got to see or hear about it

Triple hint: it's probably exactly the same now except we know that currently, at this moment, they choose to continue to be glued at the hip for the next 18 months at minimum

I have other posts about their dates too, but this is the one that covers the topic I mentioned above best I think

Work came between them? Is that what they said or is that what you took their words to mean based on your biases and previous assumptions?

Anywho! Thanks again for checking in on me love.

Just a bit of unsolicited advice that you are free to disregard. I think whatever you decide about how you feel about Jikook, you should consider taking an emotional step back from them, just a smidge. Nothing that is only supposed to bring you joy, BTS or any other hobby, should get you feeling so far in your head feeling so conflicted. Good luck, sending you purple hearts! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

[victoriadallonfan]

Not to claim Godzilla x Kong was a deep film, but credit where it’s due, it has by far the most respectful portrayal of indigenous people in all of the Kong films.

This is not a high bar and I’m NOT saying it’s the pinnacle of progressive film work, but it’s interesting nonetheless.

Spoilers below, of course.

For those of you who haven’t seen any of the older Kong films outside of the Monsterverse, the general plot beat is that a wealthy businessman/philanthropist/greedy asshole goes to Skull Island to find something new to make a lot of money (film for the OG/Peter Jackson and Oil for the 70’s film), and comes across a tribe of “barbarian” natives who kidnap the beautiful white woman whom they sacrifice to Kong, whom they worship.

It’s such a cliche that even Peter Jackson does it in his 2005 film (and it’s possibly even more racist than the older ones):

As you can see, there is a very familiar pattern

The Iwi tribe of the Monsterverse is handled very differently

In Kong: Skull Island, it actually does try to play into previous viewers perceptions; we meet the Iwi as the protags stumble upon their village ruins and are surrounded by. Tension is tight, and it looks like it’ll be a repeat of the previous films… until the character of Hank Marlow arrives and diffuses the tension entirely, revealing that the Iwi have been generous and caring hosts to him.

And yes, while they do worship Kong, it’s not out of fear, but rather that Kong protects them from the hazards of Skull Island. The Iwi are the ones who help the crew get a working ship and aid them in escaping the island.

This is followed up in Godzilla vs Kong, where we tragically learn that a massive tropical storm (I think implied to be due to King Ghidorah hurricanes) sank the entire island and left Jia as the sole survivor of her tribe, saved due to Kong protecting her from the rising floods.

Kong and Jia are then seen as a near inseparable duo, further twisting the “beauty and beast” dynamic of the previous films, making it more about how they are both alone except for each other. Kong even learns sign language from Jia in one of the best movie reveals of the series:

It’s even Jia who is able to give Kong the morale boost to save Godzilla from Mechagodzilla.

And then we get into Godzilla x Kong. Kong and Jia, while having a new home, still feel isolated because of their cultures (or lack thereof) and make excuses to see each other as much as possible. Which is turned on its head as Kong finds other Apes and the Iwi tribe have returned (or at least) an offshoot of them, as the protectors of humanity who calls Godzilla to their aid.

I was a bit wary of making them telepathic, but I liked that they used it more like a separate language than a superpower, with Jia serving as that bridge as she finds her culture, her adoptive mother accepts that Jia may want this life more than one back home (where she felt out of place), and Jia becoming ANOTHER bridge as she helps resurrect Mothra who goes onto make Godzilla and Kong form an alliance!

Ultimately, Jia parts ways with the Iwi on good terms to live with her adoptive mother, happy to know there are people of her culture she can visit and Kong lives on with his people.

But I especially appreciate a moment in the film that pretty much lampshades the older Kong movies.

One of the characters is filming himself and others as they venture into Hollow Earth, desperate to get his fame and fortune in making people realize he was a hero and not a conspiracy theorist (he was a spy for Apex Labs, the ones who built mechagodzilla in the first place). Another character is an animal doctor and naturalist, who points out that, historically, native populations don’t tend to do well when exposed to the modern world.

Add on to the fact that the Iwi are telepathic and know how to use crystals to alter gravity in Hollow Earth, they would absolutely be the target of government operations and experimentation. Aka, a far more grand version of what happens in the older Kong films.

The film ends with the footage not being used and the Iwi living in peace, having Mothra once more to protect them.

Like I said, it’s not groundbreaking stuff, but I appreciate how different it is.

[waterfrontcomplex]

yanqing abundance + origin thoughts/theory

so, i was doing whatever and a thought came to me (story spoilers also there's a lot of text)

i took a look around the loufu and realized something; all of the people had essentially every hair color except blonde. the only exceptions are people not native to the loufu, such as luocha.

yk. the one who happens to be ON THE PATH OF ABUNDANCE

and who else has blonde hair?

YANQING.

yanqing's origins are relatively unknown, all we know is that jing yuan found him somewhere and decided to take him in for whatever reason. in yanqing's character story, it says that it's recorded in the military annals of the cloud knights how jing yuan discovered him, but not where.

yanqing mentions in his character introduction how he was RAISED BY THE GENERAL SINCE BIRTH which... like. what. ok thats actually crazy bc either

1) jing yuan took him from his parents when he was like a day old or something

2) he was given to jing yuan (although, this is unlikely considering it was mentioned jing yuan 'discovered' him)

3) jing yuan lied for whatever reason (to protect him)

4) jing yuan indeed found him when he was born, possibly from a fruit of the ambrosial arbor

in the pic above, yanqing says 'but as you know, children aren't grown on trees." is this foreshadowing? or just straight up dropping a hint that his 'birth' was not a natural one?

the ambrosial arbor was inactive for approx. 2579 years before the sedition of imbibitor lunae. after that, the seals on the arbor were weakened. i haven't exactly worked out the specifics yet, but since bailu was created around 700~ years before canon and is still a little kid, and dan heng was presumably an adult/teen when exiled, my guess is that if yanqing has the lifespan/growth rate of a xianzhou native, he would've been born sometime in between den heng's hatching and bailu's hatching, a little closer towards bailu's. but what could've happened during that time? please hear me out the next part is kinda crazy

my guess is that during the tampering of the transmutation arcanum to revive baiheng (and presumably to allow other species to become vidyadhara, although the wiki gave no source... i'll trust it for now), dan feng and yingxing fucked up and created yanqing in a fruit of the arbor, while during the transmutation arcanum ritual, bc dan feng previously fucked with it, it failed and created bailu (and separated his powers between dan heng and bailu)

now, this seems... really out there. how the fuck would yanqing and bailu, a presumably xianzhou native/humanoid and a vidyadhara, be created from the remains of a foxian? i'll start with yanqing. it was stated that after baiheng's death, only a few drops of blood and a tuft of her hair remained. dan feng and yingxing created yanqing in a fruit of the arbor (like some sort of hatching rebirth... but a fruit) using either the blood or hair (most likely blood) of baiheng. it was a somewhat failed attempt at reviving baiheng. yes, it created life from her remains, but it was not her (think how dan heng ≠ dan feng, and also how vidyadhara can be different genders than their previous incarnation). during the time he was in the fruit, it dyed his hair and eyes blonde/gold, and also created the ring around yanqing's eyes (his is unique, the other characters' eye rings if they have them are a lighter color while his is dark, yes ik silver wolf has it too but her's is different).

before bailu's hatching and after subduing jingliu, jing yuan eventually came across the fruit yanqing was being held in, or found him wandering about, probably recognized the blonde/gold as the effects of the abundance, and took him in because dude he's not going to kill a literal baby (even if he could). he knew it would be dangerous to give him to a regular family, so he took him in and trained him himself

for more info abt yanqing's connection to the vidyadhara, i suggest checking out this post by astralexpressarchives.

although he is not baiheng, he did take on aspects of baiheng's personality, such as her free will and even laughing/giggling while in battle. he also enjoys flying (although with his swords and not starskiffs) and even has eyelashes similar to her's. and, just like her, yanqing's missions would often be dangerous, but he would come out relatively unscathed.

now, about bailu. dan heng says she was created after dan feng's ritual failed. if you take a look at bailu, she strongly resembles baiheng, and even starts with the same 'bai'.

same hair, same eyes, similar eyelashes, she even has a similar eye ring to yanqing. there's not too much to say here. while yanqing got baiheng's personality and fighting spirit, bailu got her appearance. now, why did this happen? im thinking its because of dan feng's meddling with the transmutation arcanum. because of that, yanqing was born, but it was 'incomplete'. so while yanqing got one part of baiheng, bailu got the other. yanqing was made on purpose, while bailu was somewhat of an accident. maybe some of baiheng's 'life' from yanqing's creation was still there when bailu was created? idk

the funny thing is, their paths are like... the complete opposite. yanqing follows the hunt (although he was born of the abundance) and bailu follows the abundance (although she was presumably supposed to follow the destruction or hunt).

theory tldr; dan feng and yingxing fucked up and created yanqing and bailu out of baiheng's remains

this is a yanqing post, time to get back to yanqing. hooray! i took a closer look at yanqing's outfit, and noticed numerous leaf/plant symbols.

...which are closely associated with the abundance. especially the gold leaves.

this further solidifies my belief that yanqing has something to do with the abundance.

jesus christ that is. a wall of text. pls tell me ur thoughts on this whole thing, i took like 2 1/2 hours to write it and its 2:40 am so sorry if it doesn't make sense i just need to put these thoughts somewhere

[3hks]

Types of Protagonists

Merry Christmas, everyone! For this special day, I decided to release a hopefully more interesting and helpful post! As always, I made up MOST of the names to get the general idea across. (The internet is only so helpful and only so specific.) But having said that, here are some different types of main characters!The Hero - We all grew up with this one, this character's whole goal is just to be able to make a positive impact on the world. They're often caring, sometimes unnecessarily so, kind, and determined!

>>> The Antihero - An antihero is a character whose actions are morally wrong, as they seem like they'd be villains in any other story. However, they do everything with a positive purpose and motive in mind! Lastly, this character is usually more ruthless and apathetic towards others than the common person.

>>> The Villain - Were you surprised? Yes, a villain can absolutely be the main character of the story! They're simply the antagonist, but with the story based on their point of view. Despite that, don't get this mixed up with an antihero! A stereotypical villain really doesn't have much good behind their motives.

>>> The Average One - This character is meant to connect with the readers. They aren't anything special and don't stick out in any particular way, as their emotions and responses are meant to be relatable to the majority of the audience. They may have a couple of exceptional traits, but those are typically supernatural and don't interfere with their personality!

>>> The Cold Calculator - This is one of the more specific types that I couldn't research explicitly about online. The Cold Calculator is a character type that is, well, cold and calculating! They have an impressively high amount of intelligence, which they use to achieve their objectives. Additionally, they are able to manipulate people, yet there's a lack of empathy for them. They are self-centered and focus only on their goals, disregarding those around them. Normally, this character isn't meant to stick out too much from the crowd, but naturally, there can be exceptions!

>>> The Hidden Genius - To be honest, I don't see much of this character type in American novels, but I think that they could really use some! The Hidden Genius is usually found in fantasy-oriented stories, where they have an extraordinary ability, but hide it for private reasons. This could be because it's dangerous, they lack control over it, it's peculiar, it requires specific settings, they're unaware of their ability, or that they simply don't want anyone realizing the power they have!

>>> The Changed One - This is a protagonist who's actively trying to change themselves from who they previously were! They're trying to escape their previous life and connections because they realize that what they were doing was, well, wrong. (Example: a thief abandoning his job to simply become a normal citizen, or a socially awkward student trying to overcome their anxiousness.) Still, their history does have an impact on them and affects them as a person! Honestly, it doesn't have to be a major change either, the point is that a character is just trying to alter themselves for the better!

>>> The Second Best - This character is incredibly impressive at something--very well above average--but there's another character who's simply better and tops them. The second character is normally some kind of rival for the protagonist to overcome. The two's relationship is typically rather complex, as it's often composed of learning, growth, competitiveness, and acceptance! This character is usually found in a school setting, revolving around academics or sports, but it's definitely not limited to that!

>>> The Almost Perfect Character - When introduced, this protagonist is seemingly perfect in all aspects of their life (at least in the eyes of others). However, as the story continues, little flaws are revealed and the readers are now aware of the underlying depth of this protagonist's life. Throughout the character's journey, they overcome their doubts, accept themselves for who they are, and learn to appreciate their imperfections!

>>> The Not-So-Gifted One - This character is pretty much summed up by the name: they're not very talented and lacking in several different, important skills. They are below average compared to other people their age, and struggle to meet expectations. Their story is typically about self-improvement, change, and acceptance!

Whew! That's ten different types of protagonists that can definitely be used in your works! I hope that these serve as inspiration and some kind of guide to those struggling to come up with an original main character! Thank you so much for those who bothered to read this unnecessarily long post, and happy holidays!

Happy writing~

3hks <3

[esamastation]

Part fifty-one of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty

-

"Angeal Hewley speaking."

"Well, you sound chipper tonight. Is Wutai not treating you right?"

"Oh. Hello, Genesis. How are things in Midgar?"

"Things are… they are such as they are. The work of a hero never ends. And so forth."

"That good, huh?"

"Mmm. Now do tell me why you sound like someone gone trampling all over your honour."

"Heh, nothing so bad, I promise. Just, you know. Sephiroth."

"More of his glowing Alignment practice?"

"..."

"Oh, so it's something new now? Do tell! All of us in Midgar are dying to know how things are developing. How is the Healer of Worlds doing?"

"... I guess the Turks have already reported it. Well. For one, he's learned how to fly."

"... Come again?"

"Sephiroth learned to fly. Or, I guess, it's more like weightlessness? He can make himself feather-light and just jump on tree tops and glide around."

"... Angeal, my dear friend, this isn't time for jokes."

"Oh, I'm not joking, Genesis, I'm really not. He can fly now. It's really something. He didn't so much explain as he insinuated, but I think it's some kind of gravity or mass manipulation that he can now do. Because of his Alignment practice. Apparently it's bearing fruit."

"... Wonderful. Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess. We seek it thus, and take to the sky. Some of us literally."

"Suppose that's one interpretation of it."

"Tch. And I suppose by now the Good Professor has been informed, and we will be hearing of these developments from him directly."

"Probably, yeah."

"Tch. Well, I suppose it would be nice to know how to fly. How many of us will end up with our wings clipped before such heights are achieved, forever…"

"Genesis…"

"They still don't admit that there have been deaths. Janson was supposedly killed in action, but he wasn't even on a mission at the time. The others have been cadets, but it's only a matter of time."

"I'm sorry. I wish I was there."

"No you don't. Be glad you aren't - though, as G type SOLDIERs, you and I aren't compatible with these new methods anyway. Such fortune we have, such graces we have been granted."

"We all signed up for this. We all volunteered, in order to enter the program."

"Yes, and not a single one of us knew what that meant. Well, except perhaps for Sephiroth. Not that he ever truly signed up. You know, I have been looking into his history, I've dug out his medical records, trying to figure out what they are after -"

"Genesis, that's a breach of trust -"

"The lives of my men matter to me more than Sephiroth's secrets and pride. Not that the files were any help - the story they paint is more a horror story than anything. Whatever Hojo is trying to recreate, if it takes as many experiments as Sephiroth has gone through…"

"I thought they already nailed down the cause. The overdose, right?"

"That's the prevalent theory, yes. But after the first few cases of Mako Poisoning and death, they rather gave up on recreating that particular experiment at least."

"They gave up? But, aren't they still calling SOLDIERs in for extra doses?"

"They are, but there's not as much Mako in it. They're injecting something else, now - more of the carrier agent, supposedly - though Goddess alone knows how many had to be resuscitated for them to get the point."

"... What's the current total of casualties?"

"Four deaths including Janson and seven in coma, two of them SOLDIER. Oh, and one confirmed brain death, which is just lovely."

"A SOLDIER?"

"No… a cadet. What they're keeping him alive for I don't know, but… there we have it."

"... Shit."

"Angeal Hewley, is that cursing I hear?! What a day to be alive."

"Very funny. How do you know about what's going on in the labs? I thought they'd pretty much banned you from them?"

"They did, but I have my ways."

"... Right. Do your ways explain why Lazard isn't doing anything about this?"

"Not much he can do. Hojo will do what he wants, and he'd promised Heidegger a new, higher class of SOLDIER after this, so you can imagine his reaction. And of course the President is all for it!"

"Ah, I… see."

"Indeed. You know what they're saying in the labs now? They're saying that SOLDIERs were created to be the second coming of the Ancients. That we were supposed to be able to, among other things, cast spells without the need of Materia."

"I… heard something like that too, a long time ago, but I didn't put much stock in it. It sounded a bit too fantastical for me."

"Well, supposedly, that's exactly what they wanted. They gave up on it, because, well, it didn't work, and because the side effects were even more useful. Superhuman soldiers! Much better than Ancient myths, when you have a war to be fought. Only now the war is almost over, and Sephiroth has apparently figured out how to fly."

"Ah."

"I can only imagine the consequences this will have."

"Yes, um. There's something else."

"Something else? Angeal, please don't tell me you're been holding out for me."

"Well, not really, but, um. Did you know Sephiroth can speak and read the Wutai language?"

"... I didn't, but I'm not surprised. Among SOLDIERs he's spent the most time over there."

"Well, I didn't know. The Turks didn't know. I don't think it's in his file either."

"Another thing he's been keeping to himself and can no longer remember why?"

"Maybe, but, Genesis, there's… another thing. There was a group of Wutai warriors that we intercepted, and Sephiroth had a one-in-one duel with their captain - and then he spoke with him. In their language. Now, I can't understand written Wutai at all, but I can sort of follow the conversations…"

"I am duly impressed, my friend. Though more with the idea of Sephiroth having a conversation with a Wutai soldier - after having a duel with them. What, did he raise their spirit somehow?"

"Very funny, but no, he didn't kill the man. That's not the point - Genesis, the Wutai Captain called Sephiroth's accent ancient."

"... Angeal, you're kidding me."

"Not like Ancient ancient. I'm pretty sure the moniker they use for Ancients is different. Ancestor, maybe? Something like that. Anyway, Deng Yuto called Sephiroth's accent ancient, meaning really old."

"... Huh. So to recap, Sephiroth gets a massive dose of Mako, flatlines, comes back, forgets almost everything about himself, develops some new habits, has a bunch of strange questions about the way Materia, Mako, EXP and MP work… and now he's developing new magical abilities, and speaking a language like someone from a long time ago."

"That's about the size of it."

"Damn."

"... Yeah."

"... Hey, Angeal?"

"Yes, Genesis?"

"I think I have a theory of what's going on."

"I thought you might."

-

Lmao I have no idea where this is going 👀🍿

[eww-y-tho]

okay...

I loved this season. I decided to watch it with part 1 fully and I got the direction and flow they were going for.

I agree with most when I say that I would have liked more polin, and I think especially the Mondrich plot was very dull and uninteresting and I don't like how much time was wasted on it.

I did think it was a bit crowded.

But I still loved how each plotline was handled (except for Cressida, because I still wanted to at least know what happened to her other than assuming she's leaving.)

I loved the flow of the season and part 2 was a great helping of angst that I enjoyed to see from polin, despite all of the people saying otherwise.

I do mourn the polin sex montage and I do think the cuts to Benedict were a bit tone-deaf. I personally didn't need as many sex scenes as you other people, though. I think the amount of tension and angst was just right for the story and the amount of sex scenes reflected that.

But I would have enjoyed at least a longer make-up sex scene.

The structure of the story felt right and the only thing that made me a bit iffy was Colin reading the letters because I would have appreciated something like a series of flashbacks to the previous seasons and finally the memory of their meet-cute with some child actors.

But Colin's jealousy arc?

Completely makes sense.

We love canon bisexual Benedict and Francesca.

We love Michaela Stirling.

We love Portia's (kind of?) redemption arc.

We love the Lady Danbury, Marcus, and Violet thing going on, even though it felt a bit excessive.

We love Penelope and Colin dancing to You Belong With Me and their Pride and Prejudice moment.

We adore the mirror scene.

We love Kanthony being cute and their fun moments.

We love the polin wedding.

We love Colin crying (even though that sounds weird.)

We love the epilogue and polin winning the baby race.

We love Colin writing a book and Penelope going by Penelope Bridgerton.

We love Penelope revealing herself as LW and owning it.

We love Queen Charlotte.

We love the nod to Penelope and Lady Danbury's book relationship.

We love Colin's last episode confession and they made me cry multiple times.

We love Hyacinth for being a sunshine child in her support for polin.

And despite Eloise kind of annoying me constantly, we love how Penelope and Eloise made up.

AND I'M SAD JULIE ANDREWS IS MOST LIKELY NOT COMING BACK 😭😭😭😭

People are shitting on this season WAAYYYY too much from what I've seen, and I think it's in part because people, again, overhype things. I was expecting a good season and some great moments, but I think the general vibe was that people were somehow going to see perfection and that's just the wrong mindset to have.

Was is mind-blowing? No.

Was I wanting more polin? Yes.

Was I hating it? No.

Was it a hell of a ride? Yes.

9.3/10

Would and will watch again multiple times.

Like, calm down guys.

[maimingaffairs]

hi hi hi i would like to request fluff for thee one and only Aleksander where reader gets really sick maybe a very high fever and maybe he panicked and called heartrenders and healers because he thought she might die and it ends all fluffy and soft Aleksander 😶‍🌫️

soft Aleksander yes pls <3 I love.

warnings: none, mostly angst and some fluff

word count: 2.3k

Just a Cough

(aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

-

It all started with a cough. A silly little harmless cough, of which you assured Aleksander after a few days of the persistent cough that there was nothing to worry about. Being sick was just a part of life for you, but apparently according to your loving husband, it wasn’t for him. In fact, upon asking him, the stoic faced general had stated that he’d never been sick in his entire life, and come to think of it, in your four year long marriage, you hadn’t seen him sick even once. He promptly thereafter reminded you that Grisha do not get sick as you did and you accepted this answer.

It was just a cough.

That’s what you kept insisting, even after it had been weeks. Though he’d never been sick, Aleksander was no stranger to illness, and stopped believing that it was only a cough. Just like clockwork, the second he began to suspect it was a bit more serious than you’d been insisting, you got worse.

Soon you were hardly able to keep food down, dizzy when you stood, the cough had gotten worse, and every night you’d run fevers. He brought you medicines given to him by the Royal Family, had doctors see you, and nothing was working. 

He hardly left your side, and when he did, someone was always there to keep an eye on you, and though you swore it wasn't necessary, his response was always the same:

“You are only mortal, my love. I will not take risks.”

So here you lay, on your marvelous four-poster bed while a young Grisha healer sat at your bedside, flipping idly through a book, glancing up at you every so often to make sure you were okay before she’d go back to her reading. A tap on the door pulled you out of your sick haze and your eyes fell upon Genya as she walked into the room.

“You may leave. I can keep watch on The General’s wife.” she spoke to the girl next to your bedside, and the girl wasted no time in getting up and scurrying out. 

You let out a miserable sigh and placed your hand over your eyes to shield the light, much preferring the company of your husband, “Oh, my. Is he almost done with whatever he’s doing? I need him to block the light.” you rasped and Genya only laughed and stood in the doorway.

“He cannot be too much longer, y/n.” she replied and you groaned.

“What did the Heartrender say?” you asked and opened your eyes to look up at Genya hopefully.

The red haired girl wandered over to your side and checked your temperature with the back of her hand, letting out a sigh of displeasure, “Well, she couldn’t deduce much except for that your heart is healthy, which is good. Your husband has ordered for one of our best healers to be removed from the frontlines and brought here to help. You're getting hotter, by the way.” she said with a frown.

“Genya, the last three healers haven’t made any progress.” you stated fearfully and she responded to you with nothing but silence and she grabbed the cool, damp cloth off of your nightstand that had been left there by the girl previous. She laid the cloth on your forehead and finally gave a sigh.

“We have very limited knowledge on what is ailing you. If a doctor couldn’t find a conclusion then it is very hard for us to know what to heal.” she explained in a gentle tone, “have you had any water today? Aleksander won’t be pleased if you haven’t.” she said quietly and you simply pulled the covers over your head and let out a terrible, wheezing cough.

Tears fearfully made their way into your eyes and you shook your head, though the Tailor could not see you, “I just want Aleksander.” you whimpered through a wheeze, your throat burning terribly with every word. You hadn’t even known Genya had left until you lifted the blanket and poked your head out to see why it had fallen so silent and you looked around the empty room and let out a painful sob.

You buried your face in your frail hands and let out hoarse cries until you felt the bed dip next to you, prompting you to wipe your eyes with the heels of your hands and you lifted your head to see your husband sitting at your side, his face completely colorless as he looked over you. You weakly sat up and pushed yourself into his lap with whatever strength you could muster, which must not have been much because you found yourself being easily lifted by Aleksander and pulled into his lap. You laid your head on his collarbone and you let out a shaky breath and you weakly grabbed onto the lapels of his kefta.

“Am I going to die?” you asked suddenly, the question that had been plaguing your mind for weeks now, the question that you were too afraid to speak out loud. The question both of you were asking silently. The question that made Aleksander kiss you on the forehead every time he left the room, that made him hold you a little bit tighter every chance he got, that had him terrified for perhaps only the second time in his life. The question that made him fear leaving your side, afraid to return to a lifeless form in his bed.

He didn’t answer right away, but the stiffness in his voice gave away everything he must have been thinking, “You are mortal.” was all he said before he tightened his arms around you, being careful not to hurt you in your fragile state.

His reply only caused you to cry again, and this time you could feel him crying with you. You didn’t see his face nor did you hear him; you didn’t have to. His shaking shoulders told you enough. He brought his cold hand up to your forehead and he held it there, occasionally swiping his thumb across one of your temples. To even meet the possibility of your death this soon was frightening and angering to Aleksander, and it had been the cause of several outbursts of anger in nights past in rooms far from your shared bedroom, to ears far from yours. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that was scared here, he was supposed to be the strong one that had the solutions. The answers. His highest obligation to you was to protect you at all times, defend you, his mortal, very breakable, wife. But there was no enemy to fight, no weapon to use to defend you. There was just you. Poor, sick, miserable little you, and this killed him. He lost sleep to this, he lost his appetite to this, and he was certain that if he was to lose you to this, he’d lose his mind, too.

“Aleksander, everything hurts.” you whispered, your voice hardly going higher than that. He grit his teeth angrily and simply pulled you closer, shushing you. He wasn’t good with comforting. His words weren’t often gentle unless directed at you, and it wouldn’t matter anyway. Words were completely lost on him as he sat in paralyzing fear that he could very well lose you to illness. 

He finally found the voice he’d been chasing around his throat and he reached up to soothingly pet your hair, “Oh, my darling, you must get some sleep. You aren’t going to die,” he promised, though he was beginning to fear he could not see to that promise being kept, “We have a healer coming for you, my little angel. I’d never let you succumb to whatever this illness may be.” he said hollowly, almost wincing when the little voice in his head told him not to make promises he couldn’t keep. Losing you meant losing a vital piece of himself.

“It’s punishment, Aleksander. There is nothing you can do.”  his mother had drawled when he had come to her practically on his knees, begging for a way to save his wife.

“Do you really think the fates would allow you to be happy after all you have done? You should have left her alone, now she is paying for your sins as well, there’s no one to blame except for you.” she had said coldly, leaving Aleksander with a guilt that had taken him days to even partially recover from. He’d deny it to the haggard old woman’s face but deep down he agreed. 

Lost in thought, he barely noticed that the stroking of your hair had lulled you into sleep, and your sudden stillness caused him to panic as he quickly laid his hand over your chest, only to feel relief wash upon him like a million crashing waves when he felt the shallow rise and fall of your chest. He finally willed himself to gaze down upon your sunken face and he traced his fingertips over your now very prominent cheekbones and jawline, and his lips turned downwards. You, his wife, the only light in his shadowy life, lay so lifelessly on his lap. He couldn’t help but think of the sick irony of it all, how he’d considered you his light when he himself could only summon the dark. The irony wasn’t lost on him at all there, bitterly so. A small tap on the doorframe made him slowly tear his eyes away from you and he raised one eyebrow at David who stood there awkwardly.

“I hope you have a very groundbreaking reason to be here interrupting the time I am spending with my wife.” Aleksander said in a clipped tone and David simply nodded once.

“The healer has arrived. He’d like to see her.” he answered, causing Aleksander to sigh once.

“David, three Healers and every Heartrender under my roof couldn’t even cure her. We need to start focusing on alternative methods to keep her alive. By any means possible.” he said lowly and the man at the door only nodded again, “but please,” Aleksander added, “bring the healer to me. Let us see what he can do for my y/n.” he conceded.

David motioned to someone who must have been just past the doorframe down the hall and a tall man walked into the room and looked down at the vulnerable, sickly form of The General’s wife laying in her husband’s lap, “Sir, this is the most experienced and talented healer we could find, he has the most experience in-”

“Can you help her?” Aleksander snapped, cutting David off. 

The healer didn’t answer but rather walked towards the two of them on the bed and he placed his hands on either side of your head, and the new contact had your eyes snapping open instantly with panic. Your husband gently tightened his grip around you and informed you softly that it was only a healer, and you relaxed a bit and closed your eyes again, a ragged breath being drawn from your lips. 

In reality the healer only had his hands upon your head for five minutes, but it felt like hours to your fear-stricken husband who watched the display before him desperately. Finally, the healer took his hands off of you and he reached up to feel your forehead before he looked up at your husband and nodded, “The fever has broken. Give her two or three days to fully recover, but she will not grow any sicker, and she certainly will not perish.”

Aleksander looked down at you with wide eyes and then back at the healer, “Why won’t she open her eyes?” he asked worriedly, his eyes threatening to water.

The healer chuckled and stood up straight, “She’s exhausted, General Kirigan. I put her to sleep. But make no mistake- she is healed.”

Aleksander’s lips moved but no sounds came out, so he settled for a stunned nod, and the healer gave him a slight smile before he headed out of the bedroom, followed by David. Your husband reached up promptly to feel your head, the past five minutes seeming entirely too good to be real, and he expected to feel your feverish skin. Instead, he was met with the completely normal temperature of your skin as you slept against him. He sucked in a shaky breath and leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your now cooled forehead and he stayed with you like that for a long time before he lifted his head. He swaddled your small form in a blanket and he sat with you just like that in his lap for hours, and he’d stay there for as long as he needed to.

When you finally woke some hours later, the first thing you noticed was that there was no searing pain behind your eyes any longer, and you looked up to see the face of your husband staring back down at you, his eyes misty and full of feelings you were sure he likely didn't have the words for.

"You look like hell." you commented with a short laugh and Aleksander rolled his eyes and pulled you up against his chest tightly, and you laid your ear over his heart, listening to it beat steadily.

"I was certain I was going to lose you." he said finally, his voice full of what you recognised to be pain.

"But you didn't."

"But I could have." he countered and buried his face in your hair, "And what then? What would I have done then?" he asked demandingly and you frowned, his disdain making your heart ache.

"Well, then I suppose you're just going to have to find a way to make sure that we never have to fear that again, won't you?" you asked, and he thought about it for a moment before he shrugged and tucked your head underneath his bearded chin.

"Yes. Yes, I suppose I will."

And in the silence of your shared bedroom he swore that no matter the cost, he’d find a cure for your mortality, a way to keep you alive for just as long as he.

[itssoinevitable]

acgas season 5 rant

well I must say it’s been some time since I wrote a tumblr essay but I think this one has been building all season. in fact, it will likely be part one of (?) because there are many feelings that need to screamed into the void. let me preface by saying that I am not a “hater” by any means, because I absolutely and unabashedly love this show and it pains me so much to criticise it, instead of celebrate on cloud nine like I usually would be after the finale. I ranked it higher than downton abbey the early seasons, which is a massive compliment for anyone that knows me. and I repeatedly told others not to worry bc it’s the show that keeps on giving and that I trusted these writers implicitly with our beloved characters.

so yes, it royally sucks that I have to eat my words, and that acgas season 5 did not bring what it should have brought. and it also sucks that this is only part one of my rant (for you and me both). if you loved s5, then I am really happy you did, and please don’t read on bc I don’t want to taint your experience. if you hated it but don’t know why, or bc misery loves company, pls read on. spoilers ahead, obv. 

1. episode structure

yes so — structure wise, it was a hot mess. I can definitely see what they were going for, in that they gave the limelight to a pair of characters every episode, and thought it would be fine like modern family style episodes. except, another spoiler alert: it was not fine at all, unless your faves are the featured couple for said episode. I would do an episode by episode breakdown but @owlsiehoot already did that. suffice to say, it is not the kind of show where you can enjoy 40 odd minutes when it’s not “your” characters’ turn to shine. they have nearly an ensemble cast, but chose not to treat it like an ensemble show. and while I can see what they were trying to avoid, the chosen execution method was far far worse imo. (we may never know the real reason for this change, but I hate whoever greenlit this decision).

even if they wanted to keep the longer scene structure, fine, maybe it could have worked. but if I could have recommended one change in the writing room, it would have been to split the main cast into threes every episode, instead of pairs. that would resemble the formula a bit more like the prev seasons, and would’ve given much more interesting and diverse back and forths to play off of and keep more general balance. some ways the dynamics could have been done:

Tris & Carmody were fine in ep 4, but keep it in skeldale more and add Mrs Hall into the mix to mother them, even better. (reminding the audience she has a biological son too, and not just these surrogate dumbasses whom she loves would have been a bonus.)

Helen & James are always lovely together, but add Tris in there for some mischief or more Jenny and Heston Grange for some sisterly bonding. 

Tris & Siegfried were cute too, but again they were away from the house, and usually Audrey was right in there with them and added something to all their interactions. 

Alternatively, give the ladies something to do and put Audrey, Helen and Mrs Pumphrey together again. (I will say though, at least Mrs P had more to do this season). 

Where the show suffered most was giving Carmody two stand-out episodes tbh, when in reality, they only had time for one.

2. tone

not only did the previous seasons have an amazing balance of all characters, they also managed to balance the darker story threads with lighthearted humour in an inimitable way. usually three concurrent storylines, two being more serious, and one more lighthearted to break it up. some episodes of course, were more lighthearted than others. but season 5 seems to have turned that on its head because almost all storylines were quite silly?? I respect there has always been a certain amount of physical humour, but it seems now that the gags have now replaced actual plots and meaningful character development. this is not a sitcom after all, unless they’re trying to change genre at the nth hour. notable exceptions include Bingo’s storyline ofc, and Candy & Joan (both which were early in the season btw) and James’ war and brucellosis experience right at the end. the middle was mostly twaddle if you ask me.

which reminds me: overall, the animal storylines seem to have become something of a joke too. the animals used to mean a lot more to their clients before, and the vets used to show them a great deal more love and respect. contrast to this season, many vetting scenes feel almost cavalier. the poor dog with the phantom pregnancy was played for laughs, which I don’t think it would have been in prev seasons. the horse that fell down after the injection, had no greater mystery to solve. Siegfried and Tristan barely seemed to care, and chalked it up to shock. it is quite unforgivable to me, as their great reverence for the animals was one of the things I love(d) about this show. 

imo a few subtle changes could have elevated many of the stories to their usual form. I gave an example on discord, but I’ll repeat it here. it’s episode 5, and picture Bosworth coming into Skeldale the same was as he did in canon, asking Audrey to come out to investigate a potential bomb. everything could have remained the same except that Audrey could have told the others where she was off to, and Siegfried or Tristan maybe asked her not to go. the whole family would have gathered together for a moment, expressed their fear for her and she would have said it’s her duty to go and check anyway. in this version, we would have felt the tension and the stakes, and it would be a looming threat of the war finally touching Darrowby. the end would also be the same, a false alarm and nothing more but the emotional impact of the episode would have increased tenfold.

and to me, the worst part of it all is that the season actually started off so promising. the first two/ three episodes, combined with the interviews by the cast, it honestly felt like they were exploring some very interesting things. but they dangled the carrot, only not to deliver imho. 

it seemed that Tristan was hiding something painful under his playful exterior, eventually to be teased out, but apparently he really came back from war completely trauma-free.

I was under the impression that Siegfried was supposed to have an identity crisis, where he was feeling left behind, but it didn’t seem to pan out properly either.

Audrey was supposed to be overworked, right? but we didn’t see her actually buckle under the strain of her many, many duties because she’s basically superwoman I guess?

James had this beautiful connection with Banerjee, only for him to be alive but never show up again I guess? really thought James would bring him to Mrs P’s convalescent home but guess not.

3. characters

and here is the crux of it, the beating heart of the show which is now bleeding out. because a truly good show is character-driven, and unfortunately I cannot say that was true for season 5. a glaring deus ex machina comes to mind, when the doorknob fell off in episode 4, trapping Tris and Carmody in a room. never thought the show would stoop to these cliched tropes tbh and it truly disappointed me.

not only did the episode structures do the characters a great disservice, but it seems to have foiled the overall season story arc too for each character throughline. to me, it looked as if the only two people with clear defined story arcs were James with his war trauma, and Carmody (my beloved). was it Sam West who said the characters seemed “busy” this season? bc yes, it’s accurate. but not in a good way. mostly they all had only things to do on the surface, but there was very little going on underneath. which is a crying shame because basically, characters have to suffer a little to grow and be interesting. they need to face challenges and grow and change. let’s do some compare & contrast:

Tristan changed and grew in every season, from 1 to 3 and faced many internal (and external) obstacles to becoming his best self, whether it was by being more studious or responsible and mature in his work and personal life. Now he’s back and we’re supposed to think… what? That he’s already his best self, I suppose.

season 4 Siegfried was holding his found family together, trying to cope with the workload and missing Tristan, worrying about James, terrified that Audrey was going to leave. contrast to s5, and Siegfried is… being adorable with baby Jimmy, and attracted to a goat heiress? if there was something deeper here, please let me know bc I must have missed it.

while last season, Helen was looking forward to starting a family, and then working on keeping her baby healthy and her family (James) intact despite the war. s5 Helen started off strong, struggling with balancing being a mother and big sister to Jenny, but now… she’s what? planting too many strawberries in the victory garden? being a supportive wife to James is important, but it cannot be her only feature. 

and last but definitely not least, Audrey in s4 was learning what a life outside her marriage to Robert could truly mean for her, and figuring out for herself where she belongs. conversely, s5has her making jam, and finding non-explosive tinned potatoes. yes she’s a warden, but what is she feeling on the inside?

4. conclusion — an empty vessel

to summarise this not-epic epic is that my true grouse with this season is its utter emptiness. it is truly a season where nothing happened and nobody really changed. okay, some things were different — e.g. Siegfried being better with handling his “boys”, and being more open and less grumbly in general. or Tristan being more responsible with his work, and standing his ground more firmly. but imo those were the results of previous season’s changes. within the course of s5, they did not do much growing or changing.

Tristan’s homecoming episode comes to mind the most. so many missed opportunities for deeper to surface — James being torn between treating a patient and possibly missing his son’s christening would have added some true to character dissonance. Helen leaning on Audrey for support when she had issues with her mother-in-law, could have worked beautifully and explored the character foils in an interesting way. James and Helen asking Siegfried and Audrey to be Jimmy’s godparents would have been truly touching and a testament to how deep their familial bonds are.

anyway, TL;DR I guess? maybe it’s because they’re saving most of the juicy stuff for season 6, but it mostly felt like a filler season, and if you looked forward to it all year just to get that then it’s truly anti-climactic. with all that said now, onwards and outwards. we shall see was the CS brings.

[utilitycaster]

On the heels of your critique of C3's pacing and the sludginess of it all—something I have been contemplating lately is how the perceived need (certainly ICly and seemingly OOCly) for BH to move at a breakneck speed from event to event has had an effect on inter-party discussions and bonding that I find really pretty tragic. I can't help but wonder, would we be dealing with the indecision and rehashed circular debates we're seeing now if the party had been able to take the downtime they needed to really get to know themselves and each other, and to better define what's important to them? I often see people expressing frustration about how badly certain characters "need to TALK to each other!!!" but to date, I just don't know if the pace of the campaign has created many opportunities for that. And that's the thing I miss the most about the previous campaigns, just having more breathing room to let the characters and their relationships develop organically. I dunno. Increasingly I feel like these are interconnected issues.

I think I've talked about this before so I don't want to get too in the weeds but: yes. I think at this point Matt is like...making space deliberately for them to talk in-game, but at this point the party has spent so long not really talking and we're so late in the game that no one really takes him up on it or when they do it's the old Gods Debate again.

I really think the problem is once again what I've been saying for like, well over a year now. I don't think the cast was given as much direction as they were for campaign 2, nor was the campaign deliberately tailored to this party, so it has always been ill-fitting. Even some of the pre-planned elements have fallen flat (I have innumerable reservations about the Laudna book, but I do want to read it if only because I still could tell you basically nothing about her and Imogen's time together pre-campaign - it's one incident in Gelvaan, helping Zhudanna one time in Jrusar which wasn't even pre-planned but rather their "session zero", and apparently they saw someone with boob tassels one time). Things like Ashton and Imogen's relationships with the gods feel tacked on after Taliesin and Laura realized that having some sort of pre-existing opinion on the gods was in fact deeply relevant to this campaign; I do genuinely want an answer from both of them of whether "I had prayed to the gods and they never answered" existed in their backstories more than 5 minutes before it came up in game because I'd bet good money it was "no, I threw that in on the fly." So you have characters that are a little more broadly sketched, which would normally be fine (I mean, I don't think most of Vox Machina in the original birthday party one-shot had a terribly deep backstory to start), except for the fact that they never had to take watch, they had a patron giving them jobs and a generous stipend from the start of episode 2 until his demise in episode 38, and both Imogen and Laudna; and FCG and Ashton already had apartments in the city so no one needed to bunk up with anyone they didn't already know. The party did not need to take watches; they did not need to decide on a direction; and they didn't have to learn to resolve conflicts and make choices as a collective group. And yes, the pace has been pretty breakneck throughout, so there wasn't space early on for the cast to feel out their characters and what motivated them and how they'd act. I think the first time I saw a large number of people in the fandom going "MAKE A FUCKING DECISION ALREADY I DON'T CARE WHICH ONE" was with the party doing a similar endless handwringing about Dusk in episode 29, and I don't think they've really gotten better. Like, I do think episode 29 is already on the late side anyway, even for a long-running campaign with a lot of wiggle-room; for a long-running campaign with some very specific plot beats planned, this really needed to be done in character creation.

So now that there is more room to debrief and talk, because in-character they're still on a deadline and the world's been ending all campaign, and because that groundwork wasn't laid, they don't talk about anything except the task at hand. Like...I think a defense I've seen of this campaign is that it's about a group of people who really aren't suited for what has been laid before them, but the problem is that's kind of every D&D campaign that starts from a low level and this is a particularly weak example thereof. Vox Machina didn't show up ready to kill dragons nor Vecna, and the Mighty Nein are still Wildemount's best kept secret; both of them grew into their current hypercompetence. Bells Hells don't really belong to their story, nor does it to them, so yeah, hard to talk within that framework.

[daitranscripts]

All New, Faded For Her Pt. 2

Twisted Against Its Purpose

Solas Masterpost Previous: A Friend in Need

The PC heads to the Exalted Plains.

Solas (if the PC said no before): I appreciate your willingness to change your mind, Inquisitor. I will keep this as brief as possible. Solas (if the PC agreed to help): Thank you for this, Inquisitor.

Solas: We are not far from where my friend was summoned.

Cole: Everything here is blurry. It wants to forget, but now the rocks are solid.

They come across a body.

Solas: One of the mages. Killed by arrows, it would seem.

Party comments:

Sera: “Killed by arrows.” Helpful, yeah? Probably bandits or something.

Varric: Bandits, by the look of it.

Iron Bull: Look at ho the body’s positioned. He was shot while running. I’d guess bandits.

Blackwall: Bandits, most likely.

They find more bodies as they go.

Solas: These aren’t mages. The bodies are burned, and these claw marks… No. No, no, no.

Party comments:

Dorian: That’s a demon’s work.

Cassandra: A demon’s work, unless I am mistaken.

Vivienne: Demons.

Solas: (Gasps.)

A pride demon is trapped in a summoning circle further ahead.

Solas: My friend.

Solas: (Growls.)

Dialogue options:

Arcane: They corrupted it. [1] +Solas approves

General: Is that your friend? [2] +Solas slightly approves

General: What happened? [3]

General: That’s a demon. [4] -Solas slightly disapproves

1 - Arcane: They corrupted it. PC: The mages turned your friend into a demon. Solas: Yes. PC: You said it was a spirit of wisdom, not a fighter. Solas: A spirit becomes a demon when denied its original purpose. PC: So they summoned it for something so opposed to its own nature that it was corrupted. Fighting? Solas: Let us ask them. [5]

2 - General: Is that your friend? PC: Solas, you said your friend was a wisdom spirit. Solas: That is not its natural form. It has been corrupted. PC: Corrupted? Solas: Forced to act against its original purpose. What did they do, what did they do, what did they do? Solas: Perhaps we should ask. [5]

3 - General: What happened? PC: Anything you want to share, Solas? Solas: That is not its natural form. It has been corrupted. PC: Corrupted? Solas: Forced to act against its original purpose. What did they do, what did they do, what did they do? Solas: Perhaps we should ask. [5]

4 - General: That’s a demon. PC: Wisdom spirit my ass. Solas: That is not its natural form. It has been corrupted. PC: Corrupted? Solas: Forced to act against its original purpose. What did they do, what did they do, what did they do? Solas: Perhaps we should ask. [5]

5 - Scene continues.

A mage approaches them.

Mage: A mage! You’re not with the bandits? Do you have any lyrium potions? Most of us are exhausted. We’ve been fighting that demon…

Solas: You summoned that demon! Except it was a spirit of wisdom at the time. You made it kill. You twisted it against its purpose.

Mage: I… I… I understand how it might be confusing to someone who has not studied demons, but after you help us, I can…

Solas: We are not here to help you.

Dialogue options:

General: Yes, we are. [6] -Solas slightly disapproves

General: Solas is smarter than you are. [7] +Solas slightly approves

General: No, we’re not. [8]

6 - General: Yes, we are. PC: We’re here to help everyone, Solas. I doubt this man deliberately unleashed a demon. Mage: Of course not! Do you think me mad? Solas: I think you stupid. That’s far worse. [9]

7 - General: Solas is smarter than you are. PC: Word of advice? I’d hold off on explaining how demons work to my friend here. Mage: Listen to me! I was one of the foremost experts in the Kirkwall Circle— Solas: Shut up. [9]

8 - General: No, we’re not. PC: We came to help your friend. Any way to do that now that it’s a demon? Mage: You cannot befriend a demon. However amicable it might appear, it must— Solas: Shut up. [9]

9 - Scene continues.

Solas: You summoned it to protect you from the bandits.

Mage: I—Yes.

Solas: You bound it to obedience, then commanded it to kill. That is when it turned. The summoning circle. We break it, we break the binding. No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon.

Mage: What? The binding is the only thing keeping the demon from killing us! Whatever it was before, it is a monster now!

Solas: Inquisitor. Please.

Dialogue options:

Special: Rift magic could help. [10] +Solas approves

Arcane: I can break it. [11] +Solas approves

General: We’ll save your friend. [12] +Solas slightly approves

General: Sure, why not? [13]

General: It would be safer to kill it. [14] -Solas slightly disapproves

10 - Special: Rift magic could help. PC: Rifts are gateways to the Fade. I can use that magic to overload the binding more quickly. Solas: Thank you. [15]

11 - Arcane: I can break it. PC: I’ve studied rituals like this. I should be able to disrupt the binding quickly. Solas: Thank you. [15] [The wiki says this is available to templar and other mage specs, but the only plot trigger in the game file is for the arcane perk.]

12 - General: We’ll save your friend. PC: I’ll do everything I can to save your friend, Solas. Solas: Thank you. [15]

13 - General: Sure, why not? PC: Breaking that circle has to be easier than fighting a damned demon. Solas: The summoning circle is part of the demon’s current nature. It will certainly attack us as we attempt to break it. PC: Of course it will. [15]

14 - General: It would be safer to kill it. PC: It’s a demon, Solas. It’s already killed people. We can’t risk our lives hoping you can turn it nice again. Solas: I understand that, but if breaking the summoning circle can save it… Please, at least consider the option. [15]

15 - Scene continues.

The demon roars and the mage runs.

Solas: We must hurry!

Next: Responsible

[udretlnea]

The Divine City, Interlude Quest: Dormiens Factorem

Previous page \ Next page \ Prologue

(Words: 3.4k)

(Disclaimer: This work is non-canon to the plotline of the Divine City by yuriisclumsy)

For anyone with siblings, one thing was consistent: they were a constant test of patience. Or if they didn’t have siblings they had that one friend who was practically sibling-coded. For Henry, he knew better than anyone what it was like to have a hyperactive little brother. Especially when said brother asks ridiculous questions like -

“Big bro, why can’t we just let the cows free and let them establish a brand new nation with the new milk element?” Henry paused mid-throw as he processed his little brother’s words.

The teen scoffed, amused more than confused. “Because they have no experience in ruling an entire nation, let alone harnessing the power of a new element.”

Henry was - as family - already used to his sibling’s more…imaginative daydreams. There was little he could do about it other than entertain them (Such is the need to have patience when you had siblings).

He continued his task of refilling the cow feed in the pen. One-two-one-two-one-two.

“Hey, rebel dingus, can you toss me that bucket?” 

“I’m no rebel! I’m future supervisor Bobby of the new cow republic!” He puffed out his chest and brushed back his dirty blonde hair with a hand. “Nobody can tell me what to do except-”

“Guy,” Henry said almost impatiently. He swore he could feel the threads of his patience begin to unravel. “Bucket. Please.”

His little brother wordlessly hopped off the fence, grabbed a nearby empty bucket and handed it off. 

Henry strolled over to the nearest cow and - having put a stool in advance - sat down to start milking. The liquid poured into the bucket without much ceremony. Distantly, Henry could hear his little brother start humming. 

Nothing much else to do while the rest of the adults take care of the harvest, he thought. 

Mornings are often this: After finishing this one chore, it’s on to the next. The two work in tandem cleaning the pens, gathering eggs, and taking care of the livestock. As Henry is patiently tending to the horses, Guy is excitedly and quickly sweeping up dust and sticks. The cries of birds, cows, pigs, and sheep fill the air. It’s a generally lively and pleasant day filled with things the two can expect.

KNOCK-KNOCK

“Hello? Pardon the interruption!”

Which is why Henry’s face contorts in confusion when he hears a stranger - a girl?! - by the barn. Guy looks up from the floor to stare at the door. 

Peeking out from behind it is a hooded head of a girl with blonde hair and red eyes. They’re scanning the inside when they land on Henry. He sees recognition in them and then they’re replaced with…something that he can’t describe. Curiosity? 

Uneasiness settles in his gut. It’s enough to make him walk from the horses and in front of Guy. The teen scoops up his younger sibling’s hand in his. 

“Hey! Can I help ya?” He said in as friendly a tone he could. The girl ducked back out of sight. Even from where he was, Henry could make out more than one voice. There’s two of them?!

“Big bro, who are they and what are they doing here?” Guy whispered from behind.

“I don’t know. Just stick close.” The talking stopped and footsteps shuffled around the door. 

Two hooded girls stepped out behind the door. The one with the blonde hair unhooded herself, allowing her hair to fall to her shoulders.

Before he could even get a word in, the blonde pointed a finger at him. With a smirk, she opened her mouth.

“I found you! You’re the guy from yesterday aren’t you?” 

!? Henry’s jaw dropped. How did someone find out already!? I made sure to be as unassuming as possible!

At that, the second girl finally spoke up. “Cecilia, are you SURE this is the one? We’ve been through ten houses including this one. I think word’s starting to spread.”

“Yes! I may not remember what the professor says during class, but I can’t forget a face!” She said proudly.

Crap! How the heck am I going to get out of this one? Henry felt tugging on his hand, reminding him that his little brother is still there.

“What are you talking about? Henry can’t go inside the city. There’s Upholders! And guards!” exclaimed Guy who decides to reveal himself.

The pause the two girls have is priceless, and is enough for Henry to come up with a retort. “Nope! I’m sorry miss, but I’m afraid you have the wrong guy! There’s at least a dozen other handsome guys with this face around. Better try your luck elsewhere!”

The girl named Cecilia swiveled her head to him. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t lie to me! What kind of idiot do you take me for! That’s insulting!”

“Ceci.” Lyla put a hand on her companion’s shoulder. “Don’t get too excited. Take a deep breath.”

“I don’t - this isn’t exciting!” She yelled. Despite that outburst, Cecilia pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. “Fine, fine. Play dumb if you want, but I know you’re the boy from yesterday and you bought a gift from Timeless Treasures.”

Guy gasped. “Big bro you got us a gift? What is it? Is it something cool?”

Great. Thank you for spoiling the surprise. No point in lying now. Henry thought. He put his hands on his hips. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I did sneak in. What are you going to do now, arrest me?”

That got Cecilia to pause. “Uh, no. Actually, I - I demand that you tell me why! If you do that, then I’ll let you go! Simple!”

Huh. I thought she was secretly an Upholder, what with the secrecy, but now that I look at her she seems pretty normal. I bet I can mess around with her. Henry grinned, showing off teeth. “Why? So you can tell all your Upholder friends all about me? I bet the ladies would love to meet someone from the country.”

“Big bro! I won’t let them steal you from us!” Guy stood in front of Henry with his arms raised.  The boy glared at the blonde.

“Cecilia!” Lyla whispered harshly.

“I - no! I won’t tell them!”

“Not even that general of yours? What’s his name again? Vulpes?”

“Who - I mean, yes! The great general Vulpes! Leader of the honorable and noble Upholders -”

“Ceci you can stop. He’s messing with you,” Lyla said flatly.

“What!? Oh you - !” 

“Now now! Let’s not get violent! ‘Twas a simple prank is all,” Henry said, raising his arms up disarmingly. “Look I could tell you’re here by your lonesome so why don’t we pull up a chair and get to know each other?”

Cecilia and Lyla’s faces were befuddled, but it was the latter who spoke first. “You’re taking this betrayal rather smoothly…”

Henry shrugged. “What can I say? Us folks are a forgiving type. Plus, out here everyone’s generally helpful and nice to each other. 

“Wait, when did you sneak in? I thought you went to help Jack with his dog after the harvest.” asked Guy.

Henry at least had the grace to look sheepish. “Ah, it’s a long story. Why don’t we sit down and we can share what happened?” Assuming Cecilia and Lyla are fine with that.

The two girls looked at each other - an unspoken conversation passing between them - when they looked at Henry and nodded. 

“Fine by me.”

“Sure, but don’t take too long.”

Thus, the four of them pulled up several stools by the horses. Henry recounted his story first all the way to the end. Then, Cecilia added her perspective. Lyla and Guy listened with almost rapt attention. At the end, the four of them silently process what they’d learned together.

“Huh. I’ll admit that I wasn’t sure what to expect when I came out here, but something pleasant as buying gifts was definitely one of them!” Cecilia remarked.

“I…guess that means we can go home now?” Lyla asked. Henry thought he’d heard a hint of eagerness in her tone.

“I guess…” Cecilia said, her voice betraying the anxiety in it.

Suddenly, Guy grabbed onto the blonde’s arm, startling them both. “Wait! You can’t go! I want to know what the city is like!”

Henry sighed before gently putting a hand on his little brother’s shoulder. “Guy, we can’t take up more of their precious time. Besides, I hate to say it, but we got more chores to do.”

Guy opened his mouth to argue when a man’s scream cut through like a hot knife and butter. Seconds later the ground started to rumble.

“What the heck?” Lyla stood up from her hair. “Who’s that - “

“Help! Sheep stampede!”

Outside the open door, several dozen sheep sprinted past. Sounds of hooves on soul reverberated throughout the barn. After the last of them had passed, a handful of farmers and dogs ran after them. 

Guy made a noise while Henry was already on his feet. Before he exited the barn, he looked at his little brother. “Look after them, I’ll be back.”

“But - “ Guy started, but a hard look was all it took to quell any arguments. Defeated, Guy crossed his arms.

Henry sprinted after the group. As he caught up to the tail end, some of the sheep had broken off leading the others to chase them. The majority of them still ran straight. Henry managed to catch up to a young woman who acknowledged him with a quick glance.

“What - what the heck’s going on?” he gasped out.

The lady bared her teeth, but it was out of frustration and had no bite. “I don’t know! Everything happened so suddenly! One minute we were helping the harvest and the next thing I knew a whole herd of sheep got loose and ran away!”

“Oh, it’s going to be one of those days where something weird happens and we have to work together to fix it,” Henry said almost tiredly.

“Eh, personally I find it fun! Keeps things interesting.”

Henry dryly chuckled. “Same! Ya can’t get any more fun out here.”

“Aight, enough yapping. I’ll take that group while you take the ones ahead.” The young woman ran to the right to corral more sheep that had broken off.

Henry saw three sheep running away and straight into a small forest. Cursing under his breath, he stopped to catch his breath. 

Henry greedily gulped down air. He hadn’t run this hard since that three-legged race with the rest of the kids. Henry wiped his brow, slick with sweat, then observed the forest in front of him. 

He remembered this place as where everyone would sometimes play hide ‘n seek. It wasn’t terribly dense, but still thick enough in some places. But now something was different about it.

The air exuding out of it felt…commanding, like a king to his people except he was kind of scary about it. What was that word? Opp - oppresi-something?

Maybe it was a trick of the mind, but he can’t let anything stop him now.

“Is this where the sheep went?” asked Guy.

“Yeah, they went - wait WHAT!?” Henry’s head swiveled to his left. To his utter shock and surprise, Guy was there. “How did you - where did you - why are you - ?”

“Cecilia and Lyla told me they’d wait and that me joining you would be ideal,” he explained. Guy tilted his head. “What does ideal mean?”

“I don’t know. I - you know what, arguing you to leave will take too much time so you’re sticking close to me, got it?” Guy nodded. 

Guy wordlessly slipped his hand into Henry’s. Then, the two marched straight into the forest.

The two brothers quietly marched down the trail. Their eyes darted to and fro from every direction; the atmosphere — previously light and calm — became charged with anxiety. 

Guy huddled closer to Henry. 

The teen gave a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. Once we find the sheep, we’ll be out of this creepy forest.”

Seriously though, when did it get so weird? It’s almost dark here despite it nearing noon. He steps over a particularly large root and carries Guy over it. He’s just about to take another step when he hears it.

SNAP

A couple feet away, right in front of him, a branch breaks. 

Both freeze as they hear footsteps come closer. A vague outline forms in their line of sight as it steadily grows clearer and clearer to reveal —

Baaaaa

A fluffy white sheep with a bell around its neck saunters over with the air of a prince. It regards them like he just reunited with his retainers.

Guy sighs. “Oh it’s just Lambchops.”

Henry makes an exasperated noise. “Of course. Of course it’s the sheep. I mean, what else would it be? A Hilichurl? They don’t even get this far into the city!”

The teen laughs his anxieties off while the lamb just stares at them expectantly. 

“So what do we do now? Should we have him follow us while we search for the rest?”

Henry thinks for a second before shaking his head. “No. Here’s what we’re going to do: You’re going to take Lambchops back to the farm and get more help. The more bodies combing the forest the better. Meanwhile, I’m going to head further in and try to find the rest.”

Henry pauses to process what he just said before adding, “How many sheep are left to find exactly?”

“Three, including Lambchops.”

“Great. That just leaves two more.” Henry gently reaches a hand to help guide Lambchops who steps to Guy without complaint. “You okay with this? I can guide him out with you and get help together.”

Guy shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll be alright. Remember who won that test of courage two months ago?”

“Of course. How can I forget how you lauded around the fields wearing a paper crown and cape bossing everyone around for a week?” Henry flatly stated.

“Ahhh,” Guy blows a raspberry as he pushes Lambchops gently toward the exit. “That was fun and you know it! I’ll be back soon! Don’t die!”

With that cheerful note, Henry is alone.

He feels a chill down his spine. Henry has to fight his mind from coming up with spooky what-ifs to keep him grounded.

“Alright, let’s go find the rest.”

The next sheep is thankfully not that far and Henry calmly guides it by a rope still attached to its collar. Unfortunately, that’s when his luck ends because he can’t seem to find any more hints pointing toward the last one. Henry shivered and took a quick glance up. He cursed when he saw dusk already turning to night.

This is great. I can’t - I can’t go back with just one sheep. And where the heck is the help? He thought impatiently.

SNAP

The teen and the sheep froze. He whipped his head toward the direction and gasped. 

There, some meters to his left was a thicket that showed signs of something passing through. Henry squinted until the pressure on his eyes made his sight blurry, but he thought he saw a familiar round shape. 

“Finally…!” He muttered. Excitement welled up within him and he walked toward the thicket. He could see it now, coming out of the forest just in time for the others to arrive, and handing the sheep off. And then a nice warm dinner at home as Guy recounted the story with…with…!

What in the name of the creator am I looking at?

It should’ve been a sheep, but it wasn’t. Instead it was glowing purple and seemed to. Its skin was a dark shade of violet and its hooves were…webbed feet?! 

And then - as if sensing his presence - it turned its head to him. Henry covered his mouth with a hand. It was all he could do to prevent his breakfast from coming back up.

Two sets of yellow eyes with slit pupils looked at him. If he squinted, Henry could see what was supposed to be a sheep’s face, but the horn in the middle of its forehead was messing it up. He looked at the neck to see if - yeah, there was a collar there.

Just when it seemed like things couldn’t get any weirder Henry finally noticed the purple mist blanketing the ground. The sheep stepped to the right and the teen laid eyes on a glowing black cube with purple glowing runes. (At least he assumed they were).

The moment he laid eyes on it he heard it.

It was a small, velvet-y voice that whispered in his ear.

Pick it up, it said. Henry felt a pressure on his hand as he was dragged - no, guided to the cube. 

The regular sheep stood behind him, observing quietly.

Another step. And another until Henry could crouch down and hold it in his hands. He did just that when both sheep suddenly bellowed. The purple mist and runes suddenly glowed with new intensity. Henry shut his eyes as the light got as bright as the sun. The last thing he felt was the grass.

…

Ah. It’s you.

So, how’s it feel?

Is it everything you ever asked for and more?

Thanks to you, we have a shot of rebuilding. It won’t be like it used to, but so long as the foundation’s there our home will still stand.

So then, I guess that’s it. You’ll be executing your plan of escape huh?

I wish I could come with you, but I’m afraid I’m more suited here. Still, good luck mate. Oh, one more thing. I know those souls outside this vault seem scary, but I ask that you don’t be too hard on them.

I’m sure they’re similar to you in some respects.

…

I won’t be hard on them, but I can’t promise that they won’t attack me first. Besides, what I’m looking for out there is nothing profound or special. What I truly want -

Is to take back my lost time.

Where am I? Henry shook his head in confusion. He inhales sharply as if he were just waking up from a deep sleep. The teen slowly realizes he’s no longer in the forest. Instead he’s inside a house sitting at a table. There’s food on it and three other people around him. 

The smallest of them is talking.

“And then I was like ‘there he is!’ and we all saw how he was pale and sick-looking when we noticed that purple sheep - hey, you’re spacing out again!” said a familiar squeaky voice. “Big bro, tell ‘em about the weird sheep!”

“Now Guy, don’t bother your brother. He’s tired after looking in the forest all day.”

“Okay mom!”

Henry tunes out his mom and brother’s conversation (That is mom and Guy right?) and wordlessly eats his dinner. The radish and veggie soup is hot on his tongue. To his surprise he can barely taste anything. Still, anything to fill his empty stomach is welcome.

Dinner is quickly consumed and the table is cleaned. Henry and Guy head to their room early. While Guy is playing make believe war with his wooden figures, Henry looks out the window. It’s a clear night - save for that lone cloud. His thoughts go back to the cube -

Wait, where did I put it? Henry swallows a lump in his throat. He - did he drop it somewhere? But where? And when?

“Hey Guy,” he turns to his brother. “Did you see me carrying a small black cube?”

“I did. You wouldn’t let me touch it though because you said it was important. And then when we went back to those two girls you gave it to them,” he explained.

“I…I did?”

“Yeah. You were like, ‘Oh I’m sorry about earlier, here’s this neat cube I found in the woods! Please take it as a sign of gratstitude!’. They looked weirded out, but they kept it so I guess they aren’t totally rude. But I think that red-eyed girl kind of likes you.”

“...” Henry silently goes to his bed. He’s not sure what to do now. Better to sleep and hope this was all a bad dream.

////////

…

How curious.

I can feel something else out there. It’s almost - no, it is divine, but it’s so faint. Very fascinating. 

I’ll need to time this just right. Still, I do wonder what will greet me when the vault is open.

////////////////

A/N

Inspired by: the divine city by @yuriisclumsy

This was supposed to be 2.5k words, so where did the other 900 words come from?! Never mind, so long as it’s done I'm happy.

Suspicious box + suspicious voices = ??? Trust me I know how to execute a build-up for a later reward (Though I suppose actions speak louder than words).

Cecilia and Henry interact! I wanted to capture the spirit of two teens arguing. Hopefully I achieved that.

Remember: If you have questions, comments, or critiques post them! They help keep me motivated!

(I feel like I've forgotten something.

...No, never mind. Just my head playing tricks on me)