#'Of course. Sooner or later every joy comes to an end—

[iwishiwas-anita]

My Baby

Inspired by @emzerdoo artwork of recom! Paz Socorro

(I Hope i posted this right and it doesn't look funky)

(ENJOY!)

(part 2)

They say a mother can feel it in her when her child is near, it's something instinctive, something that she creates, that they developed together throughout those long grueling but wonderful nine months, that it grows and strengthens throughout the years, binds them together for all their life.

They say a mother can feel it in her when her child is near, it's something instinctive, something that she creates, that they developed together throughout those long grueling but wonderful nine months, that it grows and strengthens throughout the years, binds them together for all their life. 

And Paz.. 

Paz wasn't a mother for very long, in fact she can count on one hand the amount of times she held her son, but she can be sure that each time, it felt like the first, that every time she looked into his eyes, she fell in love once more.

She loved holding him in her arms, being together in her room after a long day, just enjoying each other’s company. She never thought she would have a child so imagine her surprise when she found out she couldn't contain herself, something that many women on earth wanted but never could have achieved was made possible for her, it all just felt like some blessing, like a miracle, but of course there were downsides to the baby growing inside her belly. 

The first being that she slept with the Colonel— which in itself was highly inappropriate— but Miles was charming and sooner than later they were wrapped around each other together tighter than a rope.

The other being that they were literally on another planet.

But she never dared regret to cross her mind, that child will be born no matter what, and it was, she gave birth to a beautiful boy, with the brightest golden hair, the pinkest mouth and chubby cheeks that made her heart melt. 

She named him Miles. 

When Quaritch found out he had laughed at her, told her that she really wasn't planning to keep it a secret, but then for how long were they planning to keep it a secret?

The baby was here and there was no way she would ever make him feel that it was a burden, that she was ashamed of him, he was her greatest joy, her greatest love, her greatest miracle.

She loved him so much, so much that she would do anything for him, that's why she left that day, she left to fight for humanity, she wanted a home here… On pandora, where her child would grow and play and be as strong as his father, but as smart as his mother. 

That’s why she left. She left for him, to fight for him and in the end come back to him, with victory in her hands. 

She expected to win, they all expected to win, but what they didn't know, what they couldn't possibly think of was that Pandora… She was a mother too. 

She was a mother and we were hurting her children, murdering them and ruining them, 

And a mother…

A mother always protects. 

She protects her children and eliminates the threat, so that's what she did. 

Pandora saw us as the threat, we were hurting her children so she defended them, she protected them, she eliminated us. 

And so, I died,

I died with his name on my heart. 

She fell into a deep sleep, a sleep so deep and for so long that she forgot who she was, what she was and where she was. 

But suddenly, a light shined through, a light so bright that blinded her, a light so bright that had her shooting up from where she was laying and gasping for breath with a stranger's name on her lips. 

She looked around and noticed how everything seemed so much smaller but bigger at the same time, that everything became much more, every feeling, scent, sight and sound heightened. 

Her thoughts became muddled and her movements sluggish.

She looked across the room and saw a giant blue person staring back at her. She immediately tensed up. It looked like a woman version of the Navi, She took note of the blue markings and white dots on her face, when she noticed that wherever she looked teh women followed. She frowned and was confused as to why the woman copied it. 

“Hey! What’s—”

She stopped short. 

That woman was her, the blue woman was her. 

She was confused, how did she become this?

She could smell something familiar, something strong, something of love. 

There were tiny people around her in strange white clothing, asking her millions of questions at a time. She could barely keep up. Suddenly, some metal doors slid open and a Navi man came in and instead of wearing the usual loincloth and different colored beads and feathers, he wore military style clothing. His hair instead of long all around was cut short, a long strand trailing after him.

He looked familiar. 

He smelled familiar. 

The man was standing in front of her, a detached look on his face, 

His face….

His face….

The more she looked at it, the more her heart quickened, the more the memories flashed through, the more her eyes watered, the more intense a sob escaped past her lips. 

She threw herself at him, arms coming around his shoulders, his around her waist. SHe pressed her face to his neck, smelling that comforting scent. 

She blubbered. 

“Miles”

“Miles”

“Miles”

“Miles”

He pressed a large warm hand to the back of her head pressing her further into his neck. There was something missing, she could feel it, she was missing something. The more she smelled him the more her heart ached. 

Miles

Miles

Baby

That's what it was. Baby. She has a baby, but where was it?

Where was her baby?

She pulled away from him and he looked down at her, “Baby?” she whispered to him. 

His face did an ugly thing there, it twisted up into itself, a grimace taking over his face, his eyes becoming glossy, he shook his head once, and then one more time until he was just stuck shaking his head at her. 

Her lips trembled. “Baby?” 

He opened his mouth, tongue wetting his lips, His voice was gruff when he spoke, “No Paz, No baby.”

She felt her heart shatter. 

A sudden coldness creeping into it, freezing it up and then shattering into a thousand little pieces, she felt numb. Her thoughts slowed down as Miles continued to rub at her back and apologize to her. 

Her baby…

Her baby was gone…

There was no more baby. 

No more of his darling brown eyes, of that golden head of hair, that shined like a beacon under the lights. No more sweet gummy smiles or the shrieking giggles. 

“No.”

She pushed herself up and away from Miles, “No. No. No.”

“Paz, Im sorry”

She grasped at the  foreign strands of hair, gripping onto them tight, “No. No, No. No. No!”

She heaved a great sob. “Not My baby.”

“No, Not my baby”

“Miles, Please”

Tears poured down her face as she grasped at her own skin, his hands coming to her and pulling her scratching claws away from her face and arms. He pulled her into his chest as she sobbed into his shirt, wet spots forming where her face lay. 

His hand coursed through her hair, his mouth releasing, quiet ‘Shushing’ sounds. 

She didn't know for how long she cried against him, she just knew that by the time it was over her throat ached, her eyes hurt and tear marks stained her cheeks and his shirt. He still continued to caress her hair. 

She could feel each breath he took, hear his heart beating and it seemed to be lulling her to sleep until he suddenly spoke, 

“I know that… I Know that you hurtin’ right now, and trust me it kills me to see you like this, but we… we got work to do.”

“We’ve got another chance, Paz.”

He looked down and with his hands raised her face to look up at him, “I know you got that fire in your belly, itching for revenge, And don't worry, we’re going to get it, Alright?”

His thumbs rubbed at her cheeks, looking at her dead in the eye,  “I need you with me, soldier. Can I count on you?”

God, she was tired, she didn't want to do anything but lay on the ground,  curl up and die, but as she stared deep into his eyes, she could see a fire burning there, eating up at him and she bet that when he looked into hers he would see the same thing. She was tired, but she didn't want to waste this opportunity, she had a second chance and if she couldn’t win last time for her son, then maybe she can use this time to win for someone else’s. 

She steeled herself, planted her feet and stood up straight, staring deep into his eyes, “Yes, Colonel.”

A tired smile curled up on his lips, he pressed his lips to her forehead,  “Atta girl.” 

3 days after she ‘woke’ up, they were on the move, Miles had explained to her what it was they were doing, how they were here.

And… shit. 

She never would have signed that paper if she knew it would have come to this, she is grateful to be with miles once again, but it's not the same, it's not the same if it means that the only reason she is here was because she had to let go of one of her boys. 

She didnt have time to mope but how badly did she want to, the others they couldn't understand, not even Z-dog who at some point in her life must have had a maternal bone in her body. She felt as if she had eaten led, her body ached like a limb had been torn from her, but still she walked, she performed like the soldier she was trained to be. 

They were flying to the Hallelujah mountains, where their new ‘boss’ , a tight-lipped bitch called Ardmore, had wanted them in the hive’s nest, to ‘test’ how they fit in with Pandora's defensive system.

Being in a scorpion brings shudders to her arms, last time she was in one she had an arrow striking out of her chest and she was plunging fast to the ground, sometimes she could still feel the sting of it. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the breeze that flew in, she felt something tap her shoulder and she quickly turned to look. 

Lyle was looking at her, a question in his eyes, she firmly nodded her head and turned to look back out, soon enough they were getting ready for the drop off, the team got clipped onto their harnesses and slowly slid down the rope. 

Feet touching the ground, they were off. They sneaked past animals and wandered through the beauty that was Pandora, she couldn't find it in herself to hate her, it felt as if she now understood what had happened, that they were at fault for the destruction. 

That only if they’d listened in the beginning none of this would have happened, that she would still have her… Her baby, that they could have been a happy family, if only they’d listened, which is why now that she’s here, she feels uneasy, that a cycle is just repeating and that the events might be different but the ending will be the same. 

She followed behind Miles as they stumbled upon an abandoned pod and a broken Skel suit, she stayed behind as she watched him poke around it. She moved further into the abandoned pod and looked through it, moving colorful leaves around and a few branches, in the end she found nothing special. 

She made to move out when a piercing scream echoed around the jungle, she saw Miles freeze before Ja gave his location on what he had found. They moved quickly and as a team, but the uneasiness in her grew, it rattled her heart and made it hard to focus, up ahead Miles had broken through the undergrowth onto a small clearing where Ja and the rest of the team were.

She caught up with them and saw how they had managed to catch what looked to be Navi children, she saw how they were each restrained by their Queque, she positioned herself at the back, feet steady, when a scent made her falter. 

It is true what they say, how a mother’s intuition is never wrong, how they are able to just tell when something of theirs is near. 

Paz wasn't a mother for a very long time, this body of hers didn't know what it was feeling, didn't understand why whenever she looked at this boy her heart ached, why her eyes became wet and her knees weak. 

But her soul knew.

It knew. 

Because how can this feeling be wrong, how can it just be grief being cruel once more. 

How can this scent, this wonderful familiar scent that makes her drop her gun, —something that went against her training— be wrong, be just a figment of her imagination. 

She desperately searches for it when she suddenly spots it, right there being restrained by Mansk, a boy. 

A Human Boy, dressed in Navi clothing. 

Her heart beating out of her chest as hands shake and tremble at her sides, this boy… This boy is a lot bigger than her baby.

But she knows, she knows those eyes.

She knows why her belly tightens and her heart aches, why her breath falls short.

And she knows that the feeling in her chest, the way her heart aches and tightens, is not a mistake, or hallucination.

It's real.

She can tell when the Boy notices her, notices her looking, notices the way her hands shake and her eyes are brimmed with tears. 

They watch each other, ignoring whatever is going on around them, and they know. They just do.

She wants to get closer, she wants to see him, wants to touch him. 

Her feet begin to move, as her lip wobbles and hands clenched at her side, Her voice trembles when she speaks, “Miles?”

The boy’s eyes widen just slightly, she walks over now standing in front of, “Miles?” she asks again

She can feel quaritch looking at her, She reaches over, bending slightly so she could look straight into his eyes, her palm makes contact with the soft cheek and she gasps as it tingles. 

A tear slips past the boy’s eye landing on her hand, and that’s all she needs. She pulls the boy into her arms holding him tight against her. Wrecking sobs work out of her mouth as she caresses him all over, “My Miles”

“My sweet baby.”

She cries as she touches his hair and runs her hands down his arms and neck before gathering him up in an embrace once more. 

She wants to hold on to him and never let him go. 

She holds him against her chest as she whispers apologies into his hair, the boy finally reacts and brings his arms up around her, falling limp in her arms. She can feel the tears, slipping out of his eyes and landing on her shirt. 

“I'm so sorry”

“I'm sorry.” she sobs

She pulls his head away from her chest so she can look at him, his face is just exactly the same, but god, he’s grown up so much, she’s missed so much. 

“I wish I hadn't gone. I wished I had stayed there with you” she whispered into his eyebrow.

He does say anything, just keeps on holding her tight, cheek pressed to her chest and when he speaks she can feel his lips moving against it, “Mama” he whispers. 

And she feels as if a thousand angels are roaring in her ears, as if the sun had chosen this moment to shine directly onto her, warming her up from the inside out. She breathes out, strands of his hair lightly shift, “Yes… Yes it's me” she sobs out. 

Almost as if he needed that confirmation from her, his arms tighten around her and she feels the spot where his face is pressed against her growing damp, he lifts one hand and buries her fingers in his hair. 

“My baby” she murmurs against him. 

“Mama”

Paz wasn't a mother for a very long time, some may say that she didn't spend enough time with her child to be able to have this bond with him, that he wasn't supposed to even be here, that it was a mistake, but just like the first time, he proved them wrong. 

He survived. 

He lived. 

She was given a miracle, she wasn't going to waste it. 

She wasn't going to let him go, she will stay by his side no matter what. 

[neotriobrainrot-reborn]

Hia~ this is Jane speaking.

I've decided the Phoenica time loop is a fun idea,so please share what you've thought of so far it's fun to see what other people thought of.

Of course if your okay with me writing it.

Yeah sure, go nuts! I might write about it when I can, but it’s also fun to see how others carry out the idea! Thankfully, apparently all I needed was to sleep on it to brainstorm more about the idea.

PRISON OF PLASTIC SPOILERS BELOW

The premise is that in the middle of chapter 7, Phoenica sneaks away to follow Molly as she confronts Lorelai. Before Lorelai can send Molly to the dumbwaiter, Phoenica intervenes and argues with Lorelai. That only fuels Lorelai’s already boiling anger, which leads to her firing a blast with all of her rage aimed at Phoenica. Molly tries to protect Phoenica by dumbing down the attack, but it pierces straight through her defenses, does some harm to Molly, and hits Phoenica square in the heart, killing her.

Moments later before Lorelai gets a chance to undo her mistake, Phoenica dies

…Kind of?

Upon Phoenica’s own death, the entire day resets to when she wakes up, only with one key difference:

A Rabbit summon is standing where her alarm clock should be.

The rabbit introduces itself to Phoenica as a being created from Lorelei’s magic and Phoenicia’s heart. While the rabbit itself doesn’t know much more than Phoenica does, it tells her that she’s looping the day. At first, Phoenica just thinks she unlocked her magical powers and tries to show her dad the summon, but it becomes apparent that only Phoenica can see them. The summon tells Phoenica to call it “Fluffy”.

She assumes (again) that the summon is just there to help her get accustomed to her powers. Eager to show others, she runs to the same alleyway she encountered the wolf. But because she comes by much sooner than the first time, Molly isn’t there to help her…

So Phoenica, for a second time, dies

She now gains some understanding that her power to rewind time activities when she dies. While dying was traumatic, she eagerly goes about her day for the third loop to meet up with Molly and Trixie full of joy about her new power…

not knowing that her newfound ability wasn’t a gift, but her new prison. A prison that would serve to break her.

*****

So that’s basically the premise. After playing “ISAT”, I became obsessed with yeeting Phoenica into a time-loop to watch the bapy go through existential horror. It died for a bit, but came back full force yesterday for me. Lorelai’s spell is causing the time-loop, but it wasn’t something she did on purpose. Her spell was filled by anger and her subconscious thoughts.

Some extra things I might include:

In one of the later loops after Trixie scares off the wolf, Phoenica doesn’t comfort them, zoning out completely until Molly pulls them both into a hug.

Molly in every loop notices that something is off with Feenie, but can’t precisely pinpoint it. She only subconsciously remembers the loops like Lorelai, but instead she will gain a massive sense of Deja-vu. Her subconscious memories will build off each other.

Lorelai doesn’t have any memories of the loops, but they do affect her subconsciously. Anytime she sees Phoenica, she gets a small feeling of guilt, but she doesn’t know why

During the fight where Graham’s tendril is meant to cut Molly’s check, Phoenica tries to get Molly out of the way, but accidentally ends up getting killed by the same tendril

Despite Naven not being aware of the loops, he always does something different in each one as soon as he sees Phoenica. She has no idea why this happens and it unnerves her

Every time Phoenica makes it to the final chapter, the world around her turns to ivory and before she can do anything, it loops back to the very beginning of the day

In one of the loops, Phoenica decides to begrudgingly accept Giovanni’s offer for villainy

Once the loop count starts getting to higher numbers, Phoenica distances herself from her friends. She already know so much about them that they don’t know, and she feels as though she’s manipulating them and treating them like NCPs.

In desperation, Phoenica tells Naven everything and begs for his help, anything to help her be free of this prison…only to hear the most terrifying words an adult can say: “I don’t know”

Fluffy convinces Phoenica to stay home in one loop to see what happens. The entire day goes on as it would in PoP, except faster. Upon learning this from a text from Trixie. Fluffy comes to the conclusion that Phoenica contributed nothing and even held the group back.

Sorry for giving you a full page of info lol. I might have more ideas, but I’m currently unsure of how I want to connect the existing ones or which ones I’ll get rid of. So for now, I’ll stop here, but I’ll probably post more about it

[ridiasfangirlings]

Post-RoK S4 is hosting a community christmas event. Munakata plans to play Santa Claus as a fun experience but Fushimi thinks it's stupid cause Santa isn't real (Niki made sure to tell him that). While they're setting up the community center, they come across some excited kids who are talking about the upcoming event as they watched and they're excited about Santa. They asked Fushimi if Santa would really show up and Fushimi thinks he didn't want to be like Niki and told them that he would.

Munakata can’t believe such slander against Santa Claus, he himself stays up every year on Christmas Eve indulging in increasingly elaborate plans to capture Santa Claus and learn his secrets. Of course, even though Munakata believes in the true Santa he also assumes there’s nothing wrong with dressing up in his stead, and the local children will enjoy this important community outreach. Munakata acts like this is just something he’s doing as part of S4’s duty but watching him prepare Fushimi just clicks his tongue all ‘you say it that way, but you’re really enjoying this aren’t you?’. Munakata feels that this is the time of year to indulge in good cheer and bring happiness to children, as Santa does. Fushimi snorts and says Santa isn’t real and shouldn’t they tell brats that sooner rather than later. Munakata’s face falls and Fushimi is just like ‘…don’t look at me with that expression,’ like he suddenly feels weirdly uncomfortable. Munakata smiles then and says regardless, the existence of Santa is a thing that brings joy, so even if Santa were to be fake (which he is not), isn’t it fine to let children indulge now and then.

Fushimi leaves to continue his work, thinking that not telling kids about Santa is how you end up with a ridiculous boss who wants you to stay up and assist in the Santa Capture Mission. Fushimi never believed in Santa even from the start — well, maybe once, when he was very little and his teacher had everyone make cookies for Santa. Fushimi woke up the next morning to find Niki snacking on them (after this Fushimi anticipates the future and adds extra salt and also sometimes rat poison), laughing that his little monkey still believes in Santa. It’s not like Fushimi was disappointed though — of course Santa doesn’t exist, only a stupid kid would believe that. It’s better that he learned the truth from the start, rather than believing like an idiot for way too long.

As it gets closer to Christmas Munakata has Awashima and Fushimi accompany him to the community center to get things set up for the party. Fushimi is complaining about all the work that’s piling up as he tries to hang some streamers, probably pinning them to the wall with knives (at least he was until Awashima walked by and informed him that’s too dangerous to do with children around). There are some local kids already running around talking about what they want for Christmas and Fushimi just rolls his eyes all how stupid. One of the older kids says his big brother told him Santa doesn’t exist and the younger ones argue, he does so exist. They look over at Fushimi all ‘mister, Santa Claus does exist, doesn’t he?’. Fushimi clicks his tongue all ‘why are you asking me’ under his breath, but the kids are still waiting for an answer. Fushimi opens his mouth, ready to tell them that no, Santa doesn’t exist…but the kids are looking at him with hopeful eyes and Fushimi finds himself saying instead ‘yeah. He exists.’

 The younger kids cheer and Fushimi goes back to his work, rolling his eyes. Suddenly Munakata is behind him, noting with a smile that he thought Fushimi didn’t believe in Santa. Fushimi says he doesn’t, but it isn’t his job to tell brats that, their parents can do that. Munakata is still smiling all oh is that the reason and Fushimi snaps that yes, that’s why, don’t you have work to do. Munakata thinks that Fushimi certainly is good with kids and Fushimi clicks his tongue in response. He finds himself looking at where the kids ran off to though, thinking that it’s just maybe he didn’t want to be like ‘that guy,’ and to let the kids believe a little longer.

[fanartandfanfiction]

Siren Songs

Chapter three: Professor Ronen helps Naia become human

——————————————————

Another school year passed and Ominis spent every chance he had at the dock. The end of sixth year was approaching and he was deeply in love with Naia. They were holding each other on the dock, sitting in silence and enjoying their time together. “Naia?”

“Yes, Omi?”

“If I had a way to make you human for a bit, would you want to do it?”

“What?! Can you?!” She asked excitedly.

“I don’t know for sure, but there’s someone I’m going to ask. Can I borrow your bracelet?”

“Of course.” She slipped it off and pressed it into his palm.

“Do your parents know about us?” He tucked her hair behind her ear.

“They do. They aren’t super happy about it. But I barely see them anyway.”

“Why?”

“Merpeople are different, Omi. Most leave their parents at a young age. I only see mine because we are in a lake.”

“I don’t have a good relationship with my parents. They’re awful people. This year I’m not going home to them. I’m going with Sebastian and Anne, that’s his twin sister. I was thinking that, if I can get an enchantment…maybe you’d want to come with us?”

“Yes yes yes yes yes!” Naia squealed excitedly and kissed him.

“Remember, that’s no guarantee, there may not be an enchantment. But I’m going to try.”

Abraham Ronen was drinking tea at his desk when there was a light tapping at the door of his office. “Come in!” He was surprised to see Ominis Gaunt. “Mr. Gaunt! Hello!”

“Hello professor. Could I have a moment of your time?”

“You can have as many as you require. How can I help?”

“There’s no good way to ask this, so I’ll come out and say it. Is there a way to turn a merperson into a human, even temporarily?”

“Ah, I figured you’d come to me sooner or later, my boy!” Ronen chuckled.

“I’m sorry?”

“I suffer from insomnia, Mr. Gaunt. Sometimes I go for a stroll. I’ve seen you and your mermaid on the dock.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve seen stranger couples in my time. What matters is the love you have for each other.”

“So is it possible?”

“I’ll have to consult the books, but I think so. I’ll need an object of hers.”

“I thought about that. I brought a bracelet of hers.” He pulled the bracelet out of his pocket and handed it to Ronen.

“Thank you Mr. Gaunt. I will contact you when I have an answer.”

“Thank you, professor.”

“If I have success, may I meet your mermaid friend? I’d like to see the results.”

“Of course.”

A week went by before Ominis heard anything. Then he received a note.

“Mr. Gaunt, I believe we are ready. Come to my office at your earliest convenience.”

Ominis knocked on the glass in the common room for Naia and practically sprinted to Ronen’s office. He tapped on the door anxiously.

Ronen opened it with a smile. “Alright, my boy! Let’s go see your siren. I’ve taken the liberty of bringing some clothing.”

“Oh, thank you, I hadn’t considered that.” They headed down to the dock. “Naia?”

She jumped out of the water and Ominis caught her. “Hello! You must be Professor Ronen!”

“And you must be Naia.” Ronen smiled at her. “I’ve enchanted your bracelet. If it works, you should be a human the entire time it is on. I’ve taken the liberty of bringing some clothing. Here, put this over your head.” He handed her a dress and she slipped it on.

“Pretty!”

“And here is your bracelet. Now let’s all cross our fingers.”

Naia took a deep breath and slipped the bracelet on. “Huh. I don’t think-“ she let out a gasp. “OH THAT FEELS WEIRD!”

“Did it work?!” Ominis asked eagerly.

“Help her to her feet and find out.” Ronen smiled.

“Hold onto me, Naia. Ready?”

She grabbed onto his arms and he pulled her upwards. She stumbled at first, and both Ominis and Ronen helped her. Then she stood up.

“You did it! You did it!” Naia shrieked and threw her arms around Ominis. Ominis was crying tears of joy as he held her.

“Fantastic! I’m very happy for you two. I’ll leave you to your celebration. Now, I don’t know how long it will last, hopefully the entire time you’re wearing it. Let me know how it goes. It was a pleasure to meet you, Naia.”

“Thank you professor!” As soon as Ronen left them, Naia kissed him passionately. “Oh thank you so much! I can’t believe it!”

“Let’s try walking, I imagine it’ll be difficult.” Ominis smiled.

Sebastian was lounging on his bed with a book when there was a knock on the door. “Sebastian, are you decent?”

“Yeah, why?”

Ominis opened the door and Sebastian sat up. “Why are you being weird?”

“Hi Sebastian!” Naia stumbled into the room, holding onto Ominis.

“Holy shit! Naia you have legs! Holy shit!” Sebastian ran over and hugged her. “I can’t believe it worked!”

“They feel really weird!” Naia giggled. “Omi is helping me practice walking. It’s a lot slower than swimming.”

“This is fantastic! I’m so happy for you!”

“Alright, let’s go find Nerida.” Ominis smiled and helped her out the door. A few minutes later, Sebastian heard excited screams and Ominis returned. “Can she come with us?”

“Of course. She’ll have to share a bed with Anne though. And it’s probably best we don’t mention she’s a siren to uncle Solomon.”

Naia rushed into the open doorway, still stumbling a bit. “Look at my human clothes! I’m wearing PANTS!”

Nerida had apparently given her some different clothing to wear, and Sebastian really wished she hadn’t. Now the siren was dressed in short denim shorts and a snug T-shirt. Her long blonde hair hung to her waist in loose waves. She was a knockout.

“Technically those are shorts. Pants go down to your ankles.”

“What’s an ankle?” Naia asked curiously.

“Right, let’s have an anatomy lesson.” Sebastian chuckled.

Garreth Weasley was eating lunch with Leander when the boy’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit, that’s the hottest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“What are you talking about?” Garreth turned to look and his jaw dropped open. “Who is that?!”

She was with Ominis and Sebastian and looking very excited. They were speaking to Amit Thakkar, who looked terrified of the girl. It didn’t help when she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Poor Amit.

“I’m going to introduce myself.” Leander grinned.

“I’m coming with you, but only because I want to watch you make a fool of yourself.” They walked over to the two Slytherins and the girl, and Garreth waved. Sebastian liked him more than Prewett.

“Hey guys. Who is this?” Garreth asked. The girl turned around and saw Leander and gasped.

“WOW! This one is big!” She grinned.

“I’m sorry?” Leander asked, looking confused.

“We use the word tall, Naia.” Ominis said quietly with a smile.

“Tall! Hello!” The girl threw her arms around Leander, who looked slightly terrified. She let him go and turned to Garreth. “This one has curly hair like me!” Before Garreth knew what was happening, the girl had her hands in his hair.

“NAIA! You don’t touch people’s hair!” Sebastian hissed and pulled her back.

Ominis cleared his throat. “This is Naia, my girlfriend. Naia, this is Leander Prewett and Garreth Weasley.”

“I just got legs!” Naia said proudly and lifted one up.

“Uuuuuh, what?” Leander asked.

Ominis and Sebastian were exchanging harsh whispers and didn’t notice Naia approaching the boys again. “Are you brothers?”

“No, we’re not related.” Garreth smiled.

“Oh! What are these?” Naia’s hands were on his face.

“Um, what are you talking about?”

“You have dots!”

“Oh, those are called freckles.” He stood still as Naia touched each one.

Sebastian finally looked up and his eyes bugged out of his head. “NAIA!”

“Yes?” She asked, both hands still holding Garreth’s face.

“Would you please stop touching Garreth and stand here quietly?”

“Ok!” She dropped Garreth’s face and beamed at the two boys.

“So, Naia, where are you from?” Leander asked.

Both Sebastian and Ominis tried to stop her before she announced “the black lake! I’m a siren!”

The boys exchanged glances. “Are you joking?” Garreth asked.

Ominis sighed and took Naia’s hand. “She’s not. Naia is a siren. Her bracelet has an enchantment on it so she can live as a human. Perhaps we should have waited before bringing her here.”

“It’s really weird, I have these two legs, and up here-“ she pointed between her legs and Sebastian clamped a hand over her mouth. Both boys were staring at her with wide eyes.

“Naia, why don’t we go back and go over social etiquette?” Ominis asked.

“But there’s so many people I haven’t hugged!”

“What if I took her to meet my aunt? Aunt Matilda could definitely help her with, um, girl stuff.” Garreth asked.

“I don’t know…” Ominis looked anxious.

“I’ll keep an eye on her and won’t let her molest anyone like she is now.” Naia was back to Prewett and attempting to touch his face.

“It’s a full time job.” Sebastian tugged Naia back again.

“Which is why Aunt Matilda would be a big help.”

Ominis sighed. “Alright. Naia, come here.” He took her hands and held them. “Listen closely, ok? Garreth is going to take you to meet his aunt. Don’t go ANYWHERE without Garreth. Stay with him. Later we can explore and I’ll introduce you to more people, but right now it’s really important that you STAY WITH GARRETH.”

“Alright! I’ll miss you!” She kissed Ominis passionately and the Gryffindor boys looked away awkwardly.

“Do you want help?” Leander asked, eyeing Naia cautiously as she waved at someone.

“Probably.”

“Thank you.” Ominis smiled. “Naia? Prewett is going with you too. Stay with Garreth and Prewett.”

“Ok! Let’s go!” She took each of their hands in hers and smiled happily. They began walking to professor Weasley’s office, answering the dozens of questions Naia had. They had to help her up after she tripped twice, catch her once when she took off, and explain politely why she couldn’t take her shorts off.

They were both frazzled by the time they got to his aunt’s office. He knocked on the door and she said to come in.

“Garreth! What a nice surprise. And who is this?”

“This is Naia. She’s a siren from the black lake who has an enchantment to turn her human as long as she keeps the bracelet on. She’s Ominis’ girlfriend and she needs to learn about being a human girl.”

Matilda blinked at her nephew. “I’m sorry?”

“Ooh! What are those?!” Naia excitedly began feeling professor Weasley’s glasses.

“I see. I’m glad you brought her here.” Naia had wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tightly.

“I got legs today! They’re pretty neat!” Naia said happily.

“Very well. Leave her with me, I’ll help our dear friend.” Matilda smiled at the girl. “Tell Mr. Gaunt that this will take a while.”

“Thanks aunt Matilda. Bye Naia!”

“Wait! Ominis said I had to stay with you!”

“Until we got here, but it’s fine now.”

“But I don’t want to upset Ominis!”

“Naia, it’s ok. Stay here, Ominis will come get you later, I promise it’ll be ok.”

Naia still looked conflicted. “Ok. Goodbye Garreth, goodbye Tall.” She hugged Garreth and Leander.

“Leander. His name is Leander, not tall.” Garreth smiled.

“Ominis said we say tall?” She looked confused.

“I’ll take care of it. Go on now, boys. Have a seat, Naia.” Matilda smiled sweetly. This was going to be difficult.

[whump-captain]

No. 18 - ALT: Dazed and confused

1300 words | OC: Ghost Ambulance

Taglist (feel free to ask to be added/removed!): @thatsgonnaleaveamark

a new storyline? when ive already got so much stuff to write??? why not! the setup for this one is a high-society-style party held for London's ghost hunters, which goes terribly wrong when the socialite host reveals she plans to sacrifice everyone attending to a godlike entity. the ghost ambulance crew is of course invited and has to try and escape the mansion before the ritual comes to a close. there's a new character too, an american combat-oriented huntress called Pearl, who loves guns and lolita fashion. i haven't even introduced her yet lmao

---

CN: manhandling, bleeding, concussion

---

They've had to split up. The mansion is so sprawling that searching even one floor is taking them more time than they have, so Joy has gone with Elaine and Cutter has stayed with Pearl. But still, the warmly lit, red-carpeted corridors seem to have no end and after doubling down through turns and intersections, they have been forced to separate again.

Cutter is meant to meet Pearl back at the staircase. They're both pretty sure this floor wraps around in a loop, so they will run into each other sooner or later. In the meantime, he's looking. Scanning every wood-panelled wall, tilting every painting, opening every desk drawer. Elaine has said there must be a sigil somewhere that holds together whatever it is that keeps the doors shut - she suspects there is something sentient bound inside the walls that can be controlled like that, but Cutter doesn't understand all the details. For his part, he also keeps an eye out for smart home control panels that could have a remote override for the house's locks.

There's commotion in the distance; shouting voices of the dozens of hunters locked in the ballroom downstairs. So Cutter doesn't hear the footsteps.

He just looks up and there are two men in suits running straight at him. Security guards.

"Oi!" the shorter one shouts. "You're not supposed to be here!"

"Get back to the ballroom," barks the other one in a Welsh accent.

Cutter has a split second. He sees the tension on the Welshman's face; the slight hesitation in the shorter one's step as he comes to a halt. They're both unarmed, but the Welshman's hand hovers over his belt as if he's used to finding a weapon there - and he's even more on edge for its absence. It's clear that neither of them wants to be there.

Which is good news.

Cutter throws his hands up. "I can't go back there," he says, letting the unease he feels leak into his voice. "Everyone's freaking out and-"

"Move," the Welshman interrupts. "Now."

"They'll kill me," Cutter says quickly and the man's eyebrows shoot up. There's his opening. "One of these people wants me dead," he continues, "and she's losing her mind in there. I barely got away from her."

"I don't care, mate," the Welshman replies. "Get the hell back to-"

"It's going to be chaos." Cutter doesn't let him finish. The shorter man looks suspicious, but they're both still; both listening. "People are already at each other's throats and the second one person snaps, it's all going to go to shit. I don't want to be there for that, I don't-" he stammers, pretends to hide it. "I don't want to get trampled."

The two guards exchange glances. Each deferring to the other; nobody has clear authority. Cutter's heart is pounding double-time. He needs to lead them on further, shift their focus away from himself. If he can convince them that the crowd in the ballroom is on the verge of a riot, they'll see him as a lesser threat - but if he goes too far, they will want to avoid a confrontation that big and they'll stick with the single guy they can easily deal with.

Maybe he can use the weight of the decision against them. If one of them leaves to consult a superior, Cutter can single out the other one and try to convince him - or failing that, distract him and sneak or run away.

He has options. He can get out of this.

Eventually the shorter man says: "Maybe we can lock him somewhere."

"Yes," Cutter blurts out. He can work with that. Wherever they leave him, he can find a way to get out, he's sure. "Honestly, yes, I prefer that. As long as it's far away from-"

The man raises his hand abruptly. "Wait."

He touches his ear and frowns. Listening to an earpiece, Cutter realizes. That's one of his plans shot down. But he's still fine, he's still got them here and listening. Everything is going to be fine.

The man lowers his hand, his expression disbelieving. "She's saying we're go, right now," he says.

"What?" the Welshman snaps.

"She's ready."

"Well, we fucking aren't!" he bites back. "People are about to start murdering each other, there's another runner on the third floor, and-"

"She's saying go," his companion repeats helplessly and the Welshman heaves a groan of frustration. Cutter glances quickly between them; he has to push down a surge of panic. It's fine, he thinks. It's a new unknown, but not necessarily a problem. Nothing's out of control yet. Calm down. It's fine.

"She just needs one more person," says the shorter man.

All of their gazes cross as they both turn to Cutter.

Okay, now it's a problem.

"For fuck's sake," mutters the Welshman. "Unlucky day, mate. You're coming with us."

In a blink, he grabs Cutter's shoulder and spins him around. Cutter cries out as the man wrenches his arms back. Cold snaps around his wrists with a click and then a whirr; the handcuffs bite into his skin.

"Wait!" he shouts as the man pushes him forward. "You're making a mistake! You won't have time to finish the ritual."

He's guessing. The tension in his voice is real now, his pulse races.

"What are you talking about?" the shorter man demands. Cutter presses on:

"These people down there are pissed off." Not a lie. He gains confidence as he continues, but lets his words remain shaky: "They're already starting to sneak out- I mean, I did, and I saw at least one more guy. They're searching the house, they're gonna catch up to you and-" A hard shove almost makes him lose his balance.

"Let's go," the Welshman says to the other guard. "Claudia will kill us if we fuck this up."

"She won't be happy if an angry mob breaks down her door mid-ritual either," Cutter interjects. The guards are stressed, jumpy; their own plans have just gone to hell, too. He can get to them. He just has to ignore the strain of his shoulders, the dryness in his throat. He's still fine. "She's not going to care that you couldn't have done anything to stop them. Best thing you can do is to get out of here before all hell breaks loose."

The shorter guard is considering it. Cutter sees it in his face, in the way he angles himself away and back. The grip on Cutter's arms also shifts and loses just a fraction of its force.

Then it tightens again.

"Right, that's enough." the Welshman snaps. "Knock him out."

"What?" the other guard starts. "I'm not going to do that!"

"Yeah, good call," Cutter pipes up. His throat locks tight, almost strangles his voice. "Especially if she wants me alive. Ever knocked someone out before?" He tries to sound casual. Not a threat. I'm not a threat to you. "It's not as easy as it sounds."

"I said enough!" the Welshman shouts.

He grabs Cutter's hair and slams his head into the wall. Hot white explodes in his vision, pain blinds him for a second. The world tilts and then dissolves; everything blurs into swaying colour. Sound muffles into biting static.

He gasps. He's forgotten to breathe. There's motion before him, something red reels and wobbles. His body moves too, but outside of his awareness. It's like falling, but he can't tell if he's hit the ground. Everything is distant and foreign as if enveloped in smoke.

Where is he?

He tries to call out, but only a quiet groan comes out of his mouth. Something tastes like copper.

He's vaguely aware of force against his straining shoulders. The Welshman heaves him up, ignoring the blood pouring from his nose and down onto the carpet. Cutter's eyes are glazed over, roving unseeingly as the second guard grabs him under the other arm.

He's too dazed to protest as they drag him away.

[moonbeam-dreamer]

Unexpected (Continued from part 2)

  “And you’ve given up”. It wasn’t a question. He truly thought me a woman that was in a depression spiral and spending money on new objects to make myself feel better. He was unamused by this. By me. 

“I’m not looking, I qualified with a shrug of my shoulders. “If it happens, I’ll be open to it, but I’m not chasing every person that crosses my path. If it doesn’t, I can do bad by myself, and enjoy the experience”. I wasn’t opening the door for him, and I could see by his renewed upright stance that he’d more than understood my meaning. I would meet him outside my space if he wanted a word or be given the time of day, but he wanted to cross the threshold, it would mean more than one night, a series of dates, or a one-night stand. I was looking to create a life with someone. It meant dates, time spent in each other's company, one track for moving in together, and even if marriage wasn’t on the table, then a commitment that lasted the length was expected. I was a simple girl at heart, who knew what I wanted and wouldn’t alter my course for anyone. Perhaps he was intimidated, as everyone else had been, but I could no longer tell.  

At that moment, a customer came around and captured his attention, and I was free to peruse the books at my leisure. I was both grateful to the patron for taking him before it continued, and mortified that my newfound peace had reached its end. If he meant to take such steps and enter my life, it was a game of chance all over again, and I had to ask myself, was I ready to go down that path again, knowing failure might be waiting like a long-lost friend? Then again, this was just friendly conversation between two strangers, and I had a bad habit of overthinking. Poirot, a character from the ABC Murder Series said, “The truth, however ugly in itself, is always curious and beautiful to seekers after it”. Maybe he was trying to figure out mine, or was I was trying to find something beautiful where there wasn’t anything? He also said, “It is a profound belief of mine that if you can induce a person to talk to you for long enough, on any subject whatever! Sooner or later, they will give themselves away”. Was he hoping to unravel my strength and find a girl begging for attention, or was it only that this town was as boring as watching paint dry, and he craved something in me that was reflected in him? For once, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but this turn of events had left me in a flutter and I had to take a moment before continuing my original quest, lest I walk out with some awful written fantasy. 

Now at home, I’m still not sure what may come of it. If the time came that he called and wanted to take me on, would I have the stamina to see it through, or would I be the one to step back again? I’ve always hated going forward when I’m not sure of the outcome. There was too much to lose when you weren’t able to see the ending. Perhaps I am jaded from the life I’ve lived and I need to keep to my seclusion. I know that I have missed the comfort of a warm body and craved what it could give to me. Coming with that, however, was always the downside of after; having to speak, share my thoughts, give time I wanted to spend doing other things. When the bottom fell out, as it always did, I was left feeling like a bad person and the backlash was irritating. There’s also the possibility that being a realist has caught up to me and sucked the joy out of living, but I’d rather be safe than sorry in the end. I must live with myself when no one else does and I am done being a depressed burrito hiding from the world. Time will tell, but I do know this; my time here has softened the wolven heart and I feel comfortable with myself to walk through the storm. If something does come of it, I can be assured in my personal strength. It’s amazing what time to yourself can accomplish. Now I just need to make some tea and start in this new world at my fingertips. Hetty Brown, let’s see how your life turns out.  

FIN

[robincantfunction]

He just didn’t like me that much ✰ J.P x fem!reader

pt.2 pt.3

platonic!sirius x fem!reader (like they have a cute brother sister relationship 🙏 because we stan a protective padfoot)

prompt: this (honestly i love her and this gave me so much inspiration and i’m in the mood for some angst)

requested: yes/no

warnings: ANGST like so much angst! seriously this doesn’t have a happy ending lmao 😭 swearing, crying, kind of dickhead james- just a ickle bit 🤏 a bit of lily slander (i love lily 😭 i’m sorry lily 😭 marry me lily 🙏) i need to stop with emojis. of course the first thing i write of james is angst. lemme know if i missed anything.

summary: james wants to make lily jealous, y/n has obviously had a crush on him for forever, he starts hanging out with her instead of pining after lily to make her jealous. when it works, y/n feels like an idiot for not realising sooner.

i have to say this isn’t my best executed idea, but tbh this is probably one of my favourite things i’ve written- i just love it

james potter knew he had to change his approach of getting lily to at least tolerate him. ‘jealousy is a powerful emotion’. padfoot had told him this hundreds of times, though he obviously meant a random hookup, james did consider this. he realised it was actually a very smart idea, but not the way he meant.

replacing his normal ‘chats’ with lily for ‘touchy giggles’ with someone else would surely be smart. right?

y/n l/n was a well known friend amongst the marauders, her and sirius sharing similar upbringings and swiftly becoming lifelong friends meant she hung around them a lot. in her time with them, she grew some strong feelings for a certain james potter, and he thought he could use this to his advantage. james never realised that what y/n had wasn’t some ‘school girl crush’, she was in love with him. the only person who knew this was sirius, and it pained him to see his best friend hurt, especially when she was so much better for james than lily. but he couldn’t see it, he couldn’t understand that y/n was always there for him. every time he cried over lily. every time she rejected him. every time he needed help coming up with something to say to her. every. single. time.

james told remus about his plan, who was incredibly sceptical. “james, are you sure this is a good idea? she really likes you… is it smart to lead her on?” this caused james to pause, thinking for a moment he decided “sirius hugs her. sirius puts his arm around her. sirius pushes her hair behind her ear. sirius kisses her cheek, and her forehead. i won’t do anything he doesn’t do, i wouldn’t consider it ‘leading her on’… simply ‘growing our friendship’.

remus had a very bad feeling about this, but in some way james had a point. although he knew y/n would interpret his ‘overly friendly’ behaviour as more.

weeks went past, and james and y/n were growing closer than ever before, she felt as though he finally forgot about his ever growing feelings for lily, and finally realised she was right there. she was happy. every time he’d push her hair behind her ear, she couldn’t help but giggle slightly, feeling a blush tint her cheeks. one day, he used this to his advantage. the two were in the library, studying for some test coming up, and lily was opposite them, glaring. she realised she should have just admitted her feelings before he moved on. she realised she needed to act soon, before it was too late. when he pushed her hair behind her ear, that was her breaking point. she walked up to them, plastering a fake smile on her face when she looked at y/n, and politely asked james “hey, is it alright if we meet up later? i need to talk to you?”. he almost leapt out of his chair in joy “yeah of course, where abouts?” they mutually decided just to talk in a quiet corner of the common room before she made a swift exit.

“y/n/n i’ll see you later alright?” she nodded sadly, feeling like he’d fall for her all over again, not realising he never stopped. “yeah… yeah that’s fine” he left quickly, this time without a forehead kiss, unlike all the other times he’d say goodbye to her. she shook it off ‘he’s just in a hurry’ she thought.

when he got to his dorm, he saw moony sitting on his end and rushed to him. “yes! moony i told you my plan would work! lily asked to see me later, she asked to talk to me. the day has finally arrived!”. sirius, who was sitting on his bed, was admittedly a little confused. ‘plan what plan?’ he couldn’t help but wonder. when james left to talk to lily, he went over to remus. “what was james’ plan to get lily to talk to him?”sirius had a bad feeling, he needed confirmation that his suspicion wasn’t correct. but unfortunately life doesn’t work like that. “before you get mad at me, i tried to convince him not to do it.” sirius nodded, jaw clenched before he asked once again “what plan, moony?” the brief pause scared sirius, before remus blurted out “james realised he needed to replace the time he spent pining after lily with flirting with someone else. i tried to get him to choose some 5th year that has a slightly obsessive crush on him, but he said it wouldn’t work if it was obvious. he decided to make it believable he had to use y/n, everyone knows she likes him. i swear sirius i thought he’d forget about lily and realise y/n/n was better for him, i honestly didn’t think it would work.”

sirius was beyond mad, so he went downstairs to the common room, only to find a certain brunette boy making out with none other than lily evans. then, what he saw next broke his heart. y/n walked in through the portrait hole, and stopped when she saw them. she felt frozen. tears began to prick in her eyes at the realisation. he used her. he tricked her into thinking maybe they could be something. everything was still always about lily fucking evans. sirius rushed over to her, engulfing her in a hug. “i’m so sorry” she just sniffled into his chest “did you know?” she asked timidly, afraid to speak any louder. “no, i swear, i never would have let him do it” she just nodded and held onto him tighter. “let’s get you upstairs, yeah?” she nodded once again, and let him guide her to his dorm. he didn’t know what to do… he didn’t know whether to punch james, or to hex him. to let y/n cry, or make her sleep. he didn’t know what to do. his two best friends, one of them hurt the other, who happened to be in love with him. james fucked up, and now sirius didn’t know what to do anymore.

after about an hour of y/n talking a ‘sad shower’ where she contemplated everything she thought she knew, and what she knows now, she came back into the marauders dorm, wearing one of sirius’ hoodies and some of her own joggers she left there a couple weeks ago. “how you feeling bubs?” sirius asked, to which she shrugged and said “like shit. but hey, at least he’s happy y’know. he got what he wanted, that’s all that matters right?” he shook his head “not if his happiness is at your expense. he shouldn’t have tricked you like that.” the conversation swiftly ended, and she snuggled up into sirius’ bed. oddly enough, everyone in the room hoped james stayed in lily’s tonight. they all knew y/n would want to be with sirius, but they also knew her seeing james would end in more tears, lots of shouting, and maybe a punch and a hex from sirius. heck, maybe even from y/n herself.

ten more minutes later, just when sirius had nearly coaxed y/n to sleep, james walked in. he was whistling that silent little whistle one does when they’re over the moon, that was, until he saw the look on sirius’ face.

“what. the. fuck. james?” he looked at him confused, even though he realised what was going on. sirius found out. “look, mate, before you say anything-“ he was cut off “no! don’t ‘look, mate’ me. why did you have to do that? i get it, you like lily, but use some 5th year that’ll get over it, not someone that’s liked you since they knew you!”

at this point, y/n got out of bed and decided to face james herself. “congrats james, i hope she makes you real happy” she spoke just above a whisper, sarcasm evident in her tone. he didn’t realise she’d be here. “you saw?” he asked, voice breaking ever so sightly, he had to admit, he did feel bad. but it was just a crush… right? “yes, james i saw. thank you, by the way. didn’t make me feel like an idiot or anything!”. he shook his head “i really am sorry y/n, but it’s just a crush. it’s not like your in love with me.” he said, admittedly, quite harshly. y/n shook her head “yeah… yeah it’s ok. cause it’s not like i’ve been in love with you since third year. it’s not like my ‘feelings’ for you matter. they’re just some stupid crush right?” he stood there stunned, y/n loved him?

“james i wasn’t mad that you loved lily. cause i kept telling myself you were the right person, it was just the wrong time. i convinced myself that give or take a few years you’d get over this obsession and realise that i love you! but then you didn’t. and i realised that it wasn’t your fault i fell in love with someone who just didn’t like me that much! but then you did this. james, if you want to get the girl, don’t use me as collateral damage. don’t treat me as some tart you can wave around just to get lily’s attention! because now? now i am mad james! now i’m fucking furious. because i’m not some meat on a bone you can tempt your bitch with!”

when she said that, something in him turned red. “don’t talk about her like that!” y/n turned to look him in the eye, tears falling from hers. “of course! your still thinking about lily fucking evans. the world doesn’t revolve around her james! you can’t get pissed at me for being pissed at you and the girl you used me to get! that’s not how life works. i’m allowed to be mad at you! i’m allowed to be mad at her! because she didn’t realise how great you were until, for once, lily evans didn’t get everything she wanted. she didn’t have you. and then she wanted you. do you see how fucked up this is james?!” y/n couldn’t stop crying, she felt stupid. she felt angry. she felt upset. she felt used. and she felt betrayed. sirius took her into his arms, she was clearly no longer able to form a coherent sentence. “mate, you fucked up. and you’re gonna need to apologise, tomorrow. or maybe in a week. i don’t care! but she needs her friends right now, so either stick to your bed, or sleep in the common room, or lily’s room. i’m mad at you. you may be my best friend, but i currently need to be with my sister. so we’ll talk about this in the morning. but please. just let her get some sleep”

james nodded, looking down. that was the first time sirius called y/n his sister. normally it was always ‘she’s like my sister’. and if there was one thing sirius was protective over, it was his chosen family. especially y/n. he knew he made a mistake, but there was sort of him that couldn’t shake the fact that lily evans liked him. because of course, when y/n was at her worst, the only thing james could think about, the only thing he could ever think about, was lily fucking evans.

join my taglist!

[waiting-for-motivation]

aliit

summary: After reuniting with his little foundling, Din has to find the missing half of his clan. But he fears she might reject him just like he did after giving Grogu into the care of the Jedi.

pairings: Din Djarin x Reader, Grogu

warnings: !SPOILERS!, toothrotting fluff, angst, happy ending lol

words: 1383

aliit = family

aay‘han = bittersweet perfect moment of mourning and joy

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

The moment is bittersweet. He would have never imagined returning to this place, to see her again, to feel love return to his broken heart. The Mandalorians helmet moves slowly, from the green trees to the little garden and finally to the home he left so many months ago. There is no word in Basic to describe this moment, but there is one in Mando‘a. What Din is feeling is almost the perfect definition of aay‘han. He feels happy and sad at the same time. This place feels like home, especially with Grogu at his side, but he fears what might happen next when he has to face his cyar‘ika.

The little one at his feet can feel his mother through the force, so he waddles as quick as his short legs allow towards the hut at the edge of the forest. When he notices his father is still standing next to their new shiny ship, he starts babbling and even raises a hand to support his statement further. Din takes a deep breath and shakes his head. ”You have to go alone. She won’t be happy to see me.“

After a sad patu, Grogu continues waddling towards the house. Again and again he turns around to look longingly towards his father, but soon his armored figure disappears behind a hill. No matter how much Grogu wants to see his parents together again, he knows they parted on bad terms. Sooner or later they have to talk, but Grogu prefers a peaceful reunion with his mother figure first.

Finally, he passes through the garden, admiring the various fruits and vegetables, remembering how much he misses the delicious food (Y/n) always made for him. The few stairs in front of the door are hard to climb for the little one, but eventually Grogu starts knocking and scratching at the door. After some time, it reveals a very confused woman, looking around but not finding her visitor.

”Patu”, Grogu whines and raises both his arms, wanting to be held by his mother. (Y/n) widens her eyes and looks down, not believing her eyes. Rather quickly, her eyes well up with tears, and she starts sobbing out of happiness. She falls to her knees and hugs Grogu tightly to her chest. While he hides his face in the crock of her neck, one of his hands holds a strand of her hair tightly.

”I missed you so much, little one”, (Y/n) whimpers. For a very long time, they stay like this, their hearts filled with joy and their eyes with tears. Then (Y/n) realizes Grogu couldn‘t have come alone, so she lets her gaze wander. Hope fills her whole being. Din could have come home to her. But he stays hidden behind that hill. His helmet is laying a few feet away because he threw it away out of frustration. His heart is broken, his mind conflicted. Din loves (Y/n) so much, but he left her when she needed him the most.

”How did you get here?”, (Y/n) asks, but sets this thought aside as Grogu starts babbling and walks into her house. He takes everything in, admires every single detail and soon feels at home. Only one thing is missing: his father. Without him his little family, the clan of three, the aliit isn‘t complete. ”Are you hungry? Why am I even asking? You always are, right little one?”

The next days, (Y/n) cooks every meal Grogus little heart desires, apart from raw frogs of course. They go on little walks after breakfast, picking flowers and enjoying the nature. (Y/n) even shows Grogu how to take care of her garden, although she does all the work while Grogu watches little beetles and butterflies. And when it‘s time to go to bed, (Y/n) reads fairytales to him.

Even though (Y/n) fears that someone will come any moment and take her son away again, she enjoys the time spent with Grogu. Both are happier than they have been in a long time. And yet, there is still one gap that can only be filled by the appearance of the Mandalorian. But Din only watches his family from afar, too afraid to get rejected.

On a sunny day, (Y/n) and Grogu take a longer walk and the child waddles in the direction of his father on purpose. His mother notices the reflection of the ship first, but doesn‘t think much about it. Once they are close enough for her to realize it‘s a strange ship, she picks Grogu up. ”We should head back home. This looks like trouble.” But Grogu only reaches rather determined towards the ship. (Y/n) trusts her adopted son and approaches the ship with a bad feeling.

Under one wing lays a makeshift bed out of old clothes that look rather familiar. The fireplace is cold. No one is in sight. (Y/n) already wants to turn around and return to her home when something bright catches her eye. On top of the messy mattress lays a little metal ball, which (Y/n) remembers rather well. It‘s from the Razor Crest, her previous home she shared with Din Djarin. She sets Grogu down, who waddles towards his favorite toy.

Then there is a silent crackle and Din is standing next to her. (Y/n) believes this is a dream. Din would never return to her, he fell out of love and doesn‘t care about her. One thought fills her whole mind: He is here to take Grogu back, not because of you. Din lets the few pieces of wood fall to the ground and just stares. (Y/n) is as beautiful as the day he left her heartbroken and alone. There are the same tears in her eyes. She has the same painful expression. ”Cyar‘ika.”

”Take him with you. He is your foundling, not mine”, (Y/n) says with an unsteady voice, rather looking at Grogu playing with his ball than towards the armored Mandalorian. Tears stream over her face as she turns her back on the little one and starts walking to her hut, but a strong hand holds her back. Din steps in front of his love, without taking his hand from her, only letting it slide into her palm.

”Please. He needs you. This clan, this family is lost without you, cyar‘ika. We can‘t do this without you. I need you”, Din pleads, and his shaky voice is what breaks (Y/n). She tumbles forward, wraps her arms around the Mandalorian and hides her face in the crock of his neck. His familiar scent fills her nostrils and she feels safe all of a sudden. Still, heartbreaking sobs escape her lips and she tightens her arms around Dins firm form. (Y/n) feels happy and sad at the same time: aay‘han.

The two part, only to lean their foreheads against the other, feeling at home so close to the one they love. All of a sudden, the urge to kiss and shower (Y/n) with the love she deserves overcomes Din and one of his hands reaches for his helmet. There is no hesitation in his movement because although he is by heart still a Mandalorian, he has something better than the covert now. He has a home. He has a family. He has an aliit, where he is loved and accepted the way he is. So he takes off his helmet and for the first time since his childhood, he looks someone directly in the eyes. He looks into the eyes of a beloved person and is almost overwhelmed by the feeling of love.

By now, Grogu has returned to the side of his mother, hugging her leg with his metal ball held close. Both his parents smile down at him, so happy to be reunited as a family. He cooes and tries to hug both his parents legs at the same time. Din looks up to admire the beauty of his cyar‘ika and can‘t hold back any longer. He presses his lips to hers in a messy but lovely kiss. His hands cup both of her cheeks, while she has one in his brown curls. They laugh and cry at the same time.

But now their shared moment isn‘t melancholy anymore. The moment is sweet and soft and so full of love, just like their little aliit.

taglist: @lightning-wolffe @gwenebear @caswinchester2000 @shadowfoxey @luvzoria @remmyswritings @periwinklehoney @maximumcoffeeme @jojos-trooper @ladykatakuri

[grey-water-colors]

Try Losing One

Jason Todd X Fem! Reader

It's another Song Fic because I like writing these and they're theraputic for me. I found this song and all I could think of was a relationship with Jason Todd. It's based on Try Losing One by Tyler Braden.

Link to the song: https://youtu.be/2IoiLh0jPfY

Summary: All the times Jason loses her.

Warnings: Angst! cheating, mentions of violence, alcohol mentions.

Pairing: Jason Todd X Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1,491

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's hard to get a number

It's hard to get that dance

It's hard to talk a girl

Into ditching all her friends

It's hard to get that first kiss

It's hard to make one fall

It's hard to get the courage

Up to give her dad a call

And if all that ain't hard enough

Try losing one

Jason hadn’t been much of a flirt before he died, he hadn’t thought much about girls at all really, but he was grown now and had seen so much more of the world than anyone ever should. Now as an adult, he didn’t want to, couldn’t, place the burden of what he did on another’s shoulders.

But then he met her. She lived in the apartment across the hall from him. She was so nice, so polite, and charismatic. It went against every barrier he had put up, every lesson he had ever learned, but he wanted to know her like no one else did. He wanted to be the one she smiled at, the one who made her laugh, who did everything with. Building up the courage was ironic, he fought villains all the time, but asking a girl if she wanted to get dinner with him was making his knees shaky.

And of course, you had said yes, and of course you were as lovely as he knew you’d be, and even though he was new to all of this, you made it seem easy. You were easy to love.

So easy to love, so why did he keep messing up the only good and right thing that had happened to him.

Try walking through the door of an empty house

Try staring at the wall pouring whiskey out

Try living with knowing that you let her down

Try trying like hell not to think about

That hurt in her eyes as she turned around

If you think finding a girl you can't live without

Is the hardest thing you've ever done

Try losing one

The first time was an accident, he waited to long to tell you about the second, bloodier, part of his life. A call from his older brother to tell you that he wouldn’t be home for a few days because he got shot too close to the heart.

Understandably, you asked for a few days, but your absence in his apartment weighed heavy. He tried to convince himself that what he did was right, that dragging you in the know would put you in danger. He tried not to think about that look on your face as you walked away.

At the end of the day though, he decided that no matter how right he knew he was, losing you would be worse.

It's hard to come home early

Them last call home come so late

Pride is hard to swallow

And sorry is hard to say

And taking her for granted

Is an easy thing to do

And if you wanna see the kind of hell

A girl can put you through

Try losing one

Now that you knew, he crept in through the window of your shared apartment. You were asleep and he kicked himself for not coming home sooner. You tried to stay up, but he knew you couldn’t wait up forever, not when the morning was so harsh to you.

He tried to apologize in the morning, a sincere apology he reserved only for you, but his stupid pride. It turned into an argument, and you left with tears in your eyes.

Later that night, after real apologies were made, and you were smiling and laughing, he told you about the Gala that Bruce was putting on. He had to go, but he asked if you’d be his plus one. His heart soared at the excitement in your eyes. You had never been to a gala, never had a reason other than prom to dress up in a fancy dress.

The night of the gala you were a sight, a dress that made him want to never let you go. The awe and joy in your eyes made his heart glow. You were so special.

And so easy to love, and he took that for granted, and dropped it like a glass balloon.

Try walking through the door of an empty house

Try staring at the wall pouring whiskey out

Try living with knowing that you let her down

Try trying like hell not to think about

That hurt in her eyes as she turned around

If you think finding a girl you can't live without

Is the hardest thing you've ever done

Try losing one

Maybe if he had gone with you to get some champagne then he wouldn’t have ended up in the mess he’d made. You walked away for one second, a joy laced in your tone, and a girl he barely remembered from Gotham Academy was suddenly on his arm.

She was also charismatic, nothing like you, but she was also persuasive and before his mind could catch up, he was walking to a corner and she was all over him.

He didn’t know how long it’d been, but he knew he had to get back to you. And just as he thought that he heard you.

“Oh,” you said just loud enough to be heard, your shoulders dropping like the world fell on them. He watched the joy and excitement in your eyes turn to confusion, turn to sadness. He wanted to shoot himself, oh, that’s all you said, like you knew it was bound to happen to you eventually, like reality had come up to meet you and he hated himself for it.

You turned to leave and as you were walking away, you turned back to look at him, pain and hurt in your eyes, and he let you go. Nothing he could say could mend the mess he’d made.

You weren’t there when he got home. No sign you had even come home at all. He grabbed some whiskey and sat on the couch.

For tonight, he would pretend that he wasn’t the biggest joke the universe had made. Pretend that he hadn’t just lost you, hadn’t just screwed up royally.

Like he wasn’t facing the possibility of losing the girl he couldn’t see himself without.

Try losing one

Try missing her every night

Holding on

Barely getting by

A love like that

It might be hard to find

But try losing one

You had been gone for a week, and he let you have your space. He had tracked you down after that first night just to make sure that you were safe. Your chosen refuge was your art studio, armed with extra clothes and a pull-out couch.

Sleeping without you was hard. Living without you was harder and Gotham felt it.

Crime rate had dropped by percentages, and even thugs were afraid to go out at night in fear of facing the Red Hood’s rath. How pitiful he looked and how pathetic he felt.

You knocked on his door, a look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite place. You asked what happened, and he was honest.

After a while you said you didn’t want to break up, that you wanted to get past this. He leapt at the second chance. He wouldn’t fail you again.

Except, when you were threatened, and his reality, the one he had been avoiding, finally reached him.

Try walking through the door of an empty house

Try staring at the wall pouring whiskey out

Try living with knowing that you let her down

Try trying like hell not to think about

That hurt in her eyes as she turned around

If you think finding a girl you can't live without

Is the hardest thing you've ever done

He packed his things, if he was going to abandon you like this, then he certainly wasn’t going to make you move after. He left the things he knew you would’ve kept anyways. Left the things that meant the most to him, that he knew you would pour over hoping to find an answer. He was selfish like that, he wanted you to still think of him even though he was about to break your heart.

There was a tiny thread of hope though, and it lived in the darkest corner of his heart where he hoped to smother it, that he could come back to you, and you would let him, and everything would go back to normal.

He left a letter on the kitchen table where you set your keys when you got home. It was an excuse that he didn’t want to burden you anymore, that it would be easier if he went back to being a one-man-band.

And, as he closed the door behind him, he knew that losing you was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done.

Try losing one

[a3r3n]

LONELY HEART (ACT II) || K.DY

Pairing: Doyoung × girl!reader (+ Joy)

Genre: angst, arranged marriage!AU, suggestive, a (failed) attempt to smut

Word Count: 1.1k+

⚠️Warnings: some heavy make-out, infidelity and unprotected sex (which I don't condone irl. Remember: this is pure fiction!!)

A/N: I guess I suck at writing smut :D It’s not that I can’t, but it always turns out kinda cheesy because I’m a hopeless romantic, so forgive me if you were here for the filth :( Still, MINORS DNI as the scenes are rather explicit. Last but not least, you can totally read this as a one-shot, but in case you wanna know the whole story, you can find the first part here. Hope you enjoy it <33

🌼Nct 127 Arranged Marriages!AUs Masterlist

🌼Act I - Act II - Act III

Summary: You tried to. You did. You knew it was wrong and immoral, and you fought with both head and body to suppress that feeling. But you know that, in the end, the heart will always get the upper hand.

«Joy just called. She said she'd be back in an hour,» Doyoung says as he enters the living room, startling you. «You can wait here if you want.»

«Maybe I should come back later,» you suggest, getting up from the armchair with unsteady legs.

After the wedding, you and Doyoung spent a whole week avoiding each other, deciding it was best for both of you to keep your distance, but you knew you would meet sooner or later since you practically live at his house. Every day spent apart from him felt like a burden, but you knew you couldn't do otherwise and tried to avoid his company at all costs.

That is, until now.

And you didn't expect the sight of him to bring so much pain and joy at the same time, reminding you of memories you wish could be forgotten. Because every time you think of him, you feel a heartwrenching ache in your chest.

«You can stay,» he insists, «Nothing's gonna happen, I promise.»

Oh, he couldn't be more wrong.

Because you eventually decide to stay, of course.

And he offers to keep you company, of course.

And you sit on the couch next to each other, of course, talking about some dull subjects neither of you is really interested in.

Then your faces get closer, as if you had magnets inside that drew your bodies together, despite the efforts your brains are making to keep you apart. You both know it's the worst thing you could possibly even think of, but the words he's saying are so empty that you just want to shut his mouth, and you look so beautiful in his eyes that he just wants to hold you and keep you in his arms forever.

Then he places his hand on your thigh, making you shiver, and you grab his arm languidly. «We shouldn't be doing this.»

«Doing... what?»

«...this,» you say softly, averting your gaze. «It's wrong, so wrong.» You can feel tears welling up in your eyes as you speak.

«But we aren't doing anything,» he whispers, grabbing your chin to make you look at him.

You sigh, frustrated by your own emotions. «You're touching me like this, and I'm feeling... something I shouldn't be feeling.»

«What are you feeling?» he asks, his other hand brushing against your cheek and wiping away a tear.

You look at him with pleading eyes, unable to express your jumbled emotions with words, and he understands right away. He understands everything, because that's how he's feeling too.

«I need you,» he says, moving your face closer to his. «Every time I'm with her, I think about you. Every single time. I can't help myself.»

«Please, don't...» you weakly beg him as more tears stream down your cheeks.

«One last time. Let me do it just once,» he says quietly, almost closing the gap between your faces.

«Doyoung, you're married, and...»

«Stop it,» he interrupts you. «For a moment, I'd like to forget that I'll have to spend the rest of my life with someone I don't love. Someone who's not you.»

«Doyoung, please, don't say that,» you whimper with a broken voice. «It hurts.»

«I know. But now we're here, alone, and I can't help thinking about all the things I'd do to you if you allowed me,» he whispers softly to your ears, sending shivers down your spine.

You feel like a terrible person, because you know you shouldn't give in, and you know you should follow your head instead of letting your heart lead each of your decisions. You know all of this is wrong, immoral and unfair, and yet you're doing the most awful thing you could ever do to Joy. And when your gaze meets Doyoung's, you totally forget about her.

«Only once,» you repeat his words. When he starts kissing you, however, you realize it's too late to turn back.

You should pull away, and you know it. But you don't. Instead, you let him wrap his arms around your waist as he kisses you with fervor, sending butterflies up your spine.

He then lifts you up and makes you sit on his lap, and begins to grind his hips against yours, causing you to softly whimper. You've never experienced anything like this before, and it both frightens and excites you.

«Do you want it?» he suddenly asks you.

You feel terribly ashamed that you didn't even think twice before making a decision. You should have, given that it would be your first time and that you both have significant others, but you're too lost in the sensations he's making you feel to think reasonably. All you know is that you want him and he wants you, and if he doesn't do anything about it you'll probably explode. So you just give him a confident nod and press your lips on his once more, putting aside what's left of your good intentions and willpower.

«I can't bear the thought of someone else doing all of this with you,» he adds. «I'd like to have you just for myself. I'd like it so much.»

«You can have me right now,» you reply, gently stroking his cheeks as you keep grinding your hips against his, to encourage him to do something.

He begins slowly and gently, removing your clothes while kissing every bare spot on your skin. He never stops caressing you, even when he enters you, causing you to dig your nails into his skin as you feel a stinging ache between your legs. After a few minutes, you let him know you've adjusted to the pain, and he places his hands on your hips, carefully leading your motions and whispering sweet things into your ears to relax you.

«You're doing so good for me,» he murmurs, losing himself in the pleasure of being inside you. But above all, indulging in the bliss of finally having you so close.

As he keeps thrusting into you, though, it becomes harder for him to remain slow and gentle, and it isn't long before you find yourself beneath his body, with either his lips or hands on your mouth to silence the moans you can't hold back anymore. He kisses you everywhere, leaving wet spots on your skin as his thrusts become faster and sloppy, and his touch and the low grunts he desperately tries to silence make your whole body quiver in pleasure. Then, you feel an overwhelming pleasure take over your body.

For a brief moment, everything around you disappears.

All of the negative thoughts are gone.

It's just the two of you.

You never expected your first time to happen like this. It should have been romantic and intimate on your wedding night with your future husband. You never expected it to be rushed and feverish, on a couch in an old living room and with a married man.

Yet, you wouldn't want it to be any other way.

You're still clinging to Doyoung's body, sweaty and panting, when you hear a woman's voice coming from the corridor. You quickly pull away and start to look for your clothes while a sickening sense of guilt slowly consumes you.

«Listen to me,» Doyoung tells you, noticing the pain in your eyes. «Joy won't be hurt if she doesn't know what happened.»

«Is this supposed to make me feel better? Oh gosh, what did I do...» you mumble, getting dressed and immediately sitting back down on the couch as the door opens.

«Are you arguing again?» Joy asks you with a suspicious look on her face, noticing your anguish.

«No, we're actually talking about that fundraising project she'd like to do for her wedding,» Doyoung answers nonchalantly, pointing at you.

«Are my husband and my sister finally getting along?» she exclaims with a laugh, joining you on the couch. As the words "sister" and "husband" leave her mouth, your sense of guilt becomes even more intense. «So, did Taeil and his parents approve of your idea?»

«Yes, they did,» you reply faintly.

«Oh, honey, I'm so happy for you! I can't wait for your wedding: it'll be wonderful!» she says, clapping so enthusiastically that it breaks your heart.

«I'm sure it will,» you utter, unable to look at her as you struggle between the unbearable shame of what you've done and the irresistible desire to do it again.

©a3r3n All Rights Reserved. Please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works.

[urmomsmainbitch]

wonder woman

requested: yes / no

pairing: max mayfield x fem!reader

warnings: pining, angst, swearing, mentions of death, mentions of school, omg the writing is shit i’m so sorry

a/n: i love lucas so much (based off of i wish you liked girls by abbey glover)

i grew pretty attached to you, like a dog on a lead / thought you were everything i could have ever dreamed of, and more than i could ever need

The phone was cool against her ear, ringing for the third time as she twisted your fingers into the cord, tapping her foot impatiently. This was the second time that she had tried Max that evening; once before dinner, and now once after. She’s probably still eating, one part of her said. No, she’s probably off making out with Lucas, the other said. Nibbling on her lip, Y/N leaned into the doorframe, letting her entire body slump against the wall as she slid down, before landing on the cold hardwood floor. Max had only started taking this long to answer recently – once she and Lucas had become official, and more serious. Ever since high school started, you never saw Lucas without Max, and Max without Lucas.

“C’mon, Maxie,” Y/N murmured, tapping her finger and trying the girl again, looking at the watch on her wrist. She’d even waited half an hour after Max normally ate dinner, hoping to catch her so they could talk to each other. They hadn’t been doing that as often, the redhead never wanting to spend a waking moment away from her boyfriend. Y/N saw it, she supposed, Lucas wasn’t a bad looking guy, and he was nice. But he was nice. That was it. He wasn’t smart, or funny, or entertaining. He was just there. Just a phase, she kept telling herself, Lucas is just a phase. But what after Lucas? What happened when Max finally took notice of Matt Donahue in her math class, who’s always making googly eyes at her? Or, what if she just happened to meet Sam Davis’ eyes in English? What then? Lucas would be forgotten, sure, but he’d be replaced in nearly no time.

On her third attempt, she hung up the phone, slamming it into the receiver. That was the second time this week.

always thought you looked at me differently than any other you’d see / thought you were aching to see me at any, any possibility

“So, what should we do?” Max asked her, bright eyes looking between her and El, who was sitting on the other end of the bed, laying on her stomach as she flipped through a comic book. El didn’t used to come to their sleepovers. Come to think of it, Y/N couldn’t think of the most recent time that she had a sleepover with Max alone. They used to have them all of the time: giggling under the covers into the early hours of the morning, leaning on one another as they flipped through those comic books. Max’s loved copy of Wonder Woman, which used to rotate between her and Y/N’s houses, was now sitting on Lucas’ shelf. “We haven’t seen each other in forever. Especially not you, El!”

Y/N frowned. She saw El last week. She hadn’t spoken to her in two weeks. What happened to the whole, ‘I’m your best friend and you’re mine, Y/N/N!’ and the ‘I love you so much, and we’re best friends! I’d do anything for you, Y/N!’

“I’ve just been so busy, it’s crazy! I haven’t had any time with field hockey and band and everything like that.” Max laughed. Her face got all crinkled up, her freckles blending into one another as her blue eyes teared up with joy. It would have been gorgeous, had it not been a lie. Max used to frequently skip hockey practices to hang out, and since she hadn’t gotten team captain, her practices had decreased. Max used to see her whenever she could, but of course, now she’d spend her time with Lucas, or with El, or with anybody other than her. Max used to put her on a pedestal, but now, it looks like anybody who shows her any attention at all gets all of hers.

i could be your bitch and tell you a million reasons why being with me would be much better than with any other guy / i could tell you I’ll treat you right and never wrong / tell you in my arms is where you belong / but I know that you can’t change someone / so I’ll just leave you alone

The next Friday, Max was back in Y/N’s bed, flipping through a magazine while music played through the radio. Her beautiful red hair was falling into strands in front of her face, framing her gorgeous freckled pale skin, blue eyes piercing through the dimmed overhead lights. She looked like a goddess, her entire lanky body stretched out over the covers in a way that she could stare at for hours – watching the way that her face crinkled up when she read a funny entry, or seeing the way she nibbled on her bottom lip when she was interested.

“I don’t know what I should do for Lucas for our second anniversary.”

Y/N’s heart stopped. Of course she’d talk about Lucas. “Well, what does he like?”

“You know,” she smiled, folding her magazine and sitting up to look at the other girl. Y/N was walking out of the bathroom, tucking her hair behind her ear as she put Max’s next day outfit on the chair, folded neatly. “You know as much as I do about him. We both see him everyday.”

“Yeah, but you see him more than I do,” Y/N grimaced. “I don’t see him that much anymore, and I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I feel like a shitty girlfriend.” Max avoided her statement. I haven’t seen you in forever – she’d even said it outright and then got ignored! You never talk to me anymore, and it’s always ‘Lucas this and Lucas that! I’m here, too!’

“You’re never a shitty girlfriend.”

“I turned him down to hang out tonight. The weekend of our anniversary, Y/N. You can’t even lie and tell me that’s a good look,” Max said, looking unbelieving. Her brows furrowed together. “I turn him down all of the time when I hang out with you and El. It makes me feel so terrible, especially because I see you so much.”

Y/N knew that she should shut up. She knew that she shouldn’t have said what she did, and she knew that there was absolutely no reason to do what she did. The words came out faster than she ever thought that they ever could, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a pit and die once the words left her lips. But,a part of her wanted to scream it from the rooftops, a part of her wanting to shout it again and again. It’d been bottled up for months and months, and it was twenty three months, three weeks, and five days after it had happened in the first place that she realized that it needed to be said sooner or later. “That’s a fucking lie, and we both know it. Don’t bullshit me, Max.”

“I’m not bullshitting you?” It was phrased like a question, and Max looked like she had just been accused of something much worse. “I see you all the time–”

“Yeah, see, that’s what the lie is,” Y/N chuckled, sitting down, putting the pile on her lap. The feeling of rejection that had been sitting in the pit of ehr stomach for nearly two years now was bubbling up and up, and the words were spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them. “He’s just a stupid boy! He’s not funny, he’s not smart, he’s not entertaining, and he’s not worth it! You’ve been blowing me off for months, Max, and I’m so sick and tired of pretending like I don’t notice everything!”

Y/N kept going.

“You ignore me again and again, and we both know that anybody would be so much better than Lucas of all people!”

“Like who?! Lucas is so much better–”

“Like me!” Max finally fell silent, the color draining from her face as she dropped her magazine on the bedspread. Her hands trembled, and her eyes glassed in only a few moments. The ugly monster that had been hiding under the bed, in the closet, and behind her in her own shadow had finally come out; shrouding the entire room in a thick and uncomfortable silence. Every word broke a deeper part of Y/N, and cracked a part of Max. She almost stopped, but at this rate, who knew when she would finally be left alone with her long enough to dare say them again? “Me, Max! You act so insightful, wise one, and then you fucking shit all over anything I say and do, and it hurts me every fucking day that I fall morw and more in love with you when all you do is ignore my fucking existence for some guy who doesn’t even know who Jane Austen is!” Her voice trembled with every word, and as the house fell quieter and quieter, the sheer stupidity of the whole idea grew and grew.

The room remained silent as Max gathered her things. She didn’t bother to take her new change of clothes, now on the floor. They would go in a shoebox in the closet, along with the pictures and notebooks and comics. She ignored the new friendship journal that was sitting on the vanity, untouched and unused by them. It never would be – it would be sold at a yardsale. Y/N met her eyes as Max picked up the Wonder Woman copy that was sitting on the bed, pleading her not to take it. Don’t take this, she begged, please don’t take this. Leave me this, please. Max picked it up, and put it in her bag.

That would be the Mayfield-Sinclair children’s first comic book – the one that would sit in their library until their perfect little house on the cul-de-sac sold.

and i know you don’t swing that way, but that won’t take my feelings away / oh i wish you liked girls; oh i wish you liked girls / girls like me

[epigstolary]

When, Not Whether

Anyone can tell at first sight that you’ve let your appetite get the better of you. When you lumber up to a restaurant — ass and rolls jiggling out of your clothes, belly bouncing a foot or two in front of you, flabby arms swinging to keep yourself steady — it’s clear you’re there for serious business. Nobody expects you to show up for the salad bar.

But even with all that, it’s another thing entirely to watch you actually eat. Once the food is in front of you, there is almost nothing else in your world. Sure, you’ll carry on a conversation with your friends, or watch something on tv, but your mind clearly isn’t dedicated to it. You’re focused on what’s going in your mouth and filling your belly. You desire that slice of cheese-laden pizza. You crave that mouthful of creamy, buttery pasta. You yearn for that fatty burger, dripping with grease. While you’re eating your meal of choice, your whole self is dedicated to it — you want the joy of tasting it, of feeling everything that’s bad for you sliding over your tongue, of feeling more and more of it fill your cavernous belly. But when you’re finally done, you’re still not satisfied. It’s rare that you’re not planning your next meal before you’ve finished the one you’re already stuffing yourself with.

As much as you love eating out, though, the real magic happens when you’re at home. Where nobody really gets to see. This is where you get to work your way through a stock pot filled to the top with mac and cheese over the course of an evening. Or put away an entire three-layer chocolate cake, slice by slice, bite by relentless bite disappearing into your implacable maw. Or polish off a couple family-size boxes of sugar cereal as a midnight snack. Your snacking is epic too, of course. You’re never without a bag of chips, a box of candy, and a two-liter of soda or something similar within arm’s reach. You go through corn dogs, chicken nuggets, Hot Pockets, pizza bites — all the frozen and fried snacks you can manage — at a rate that would send most people to the hospital. That kind of endurance and consistency is what it takes for someone to have a 20,000 calorie day. Every. Single. Day.

And that singleness of purpose must have been your way for a long time. You’ve been so focused on using food to pleasure yourself for so long that you’ve completely ignored what it’s done — is doing — to you. You’ve missed how your body has expanded, as if to make room; and you keep eating more and more, trying to fill it. You’re somehow oblivious to the pound after pound after pound of fat that packs on your frame as you follow this disaster diet. Arms, legs, butt, belly, all ballooning outward in a grotesque display of how many calories a single person can put into their body. It would almost be inspiring, if it weren’t so horrifying to watch someone utterly wreck themselves.

Because as much as you’re ignoring the changes happening to you, you still feel some of the effects. All that blubber, though soft and plush from the outside, presses relentlessly on your organs and bones. Even planted on the couch, it takes active effort, pressing against the ever-increasing pressure of the weight, for you to breathe and take in enough oxygen to sustain your tremendous bulk. The extra weight and volume in so many different places on your body contorts your frame as you walk, or sit, or lay down, and it stretches and twists your joints. As a result, your fat is basically inflicting low-level torture on you 24/7. And the hundreds of pounds of excess flab covering every inch of you — which any motion requires you to hoist, lower, stabilize, or simply carry with you — means that even the simplest movement becomes a cardio workout. You’d think it would weigh you down more, but it hasn’t (at least so far) stopped you from that next meal.

Just where do you think a habit — an addiction — like that ends? A human can’t just eat the calorie intake of ten people every day and expect it never to catch up with them. And your day of reckoning is fast approaching, my friend. Can you feel it catching up with you as the growing weight of your prodigious blubber slows you down? A creeping sense of dread that soon, you’ll have to pay the price for your obscene indulgence? Maybe somewhere, in the part of your mind not occupied with what you’re consuming next, there’s that little nagging worry about what’s coming. Maybe it’s the fear, knowing how tenuous your grasp on your health and your mobility is, that’s making you ignore the problem and, perversely, driving you to destruction.

You know it’s a matter of when, not whether, you’ll be too fat to keep going as you are. You may not admit it to yourself, but you know. Even with a van big enough to get you there and chairs strong enough to hold you, eventually a porker just gets too heavy to manage the waddle up to a restaurant and too bloated to fit through the door. Your last trip to the buffet might be the one that ends with an embarrassing collapse in front of a shocked wait staff, sickened at seeing your mass of glistening chubby flesh sprawled on the floor, after finally getting exhausted by trying to carry your near half ton of fat back to a table. Or you might take the wiser course and decide, at some point, not to test it anymore. Either way, it will happen sooner or later.

And what happens then, when your last reason to leave the house and get some meager physical activity goes away? What happens when all you do is stay home and gorge yourself nonstop? And you and I both know, that’s exactly what you’ll do. You’ll lounge on the couch or snooze in bed and stuff yourself like an engorged tick. If you have any room to pack any more food in your distended gut, you almost certainly will. And with nowhere to go and nothing to do, except maybe to make more food, just about every bite you eat will get turned by your crashing metabolism into brand new fat. You’ll get fatter and heavier faster than ever before — and maybe you’ll even get big enough fast enough to scare you. But at that point, you probably have to resign yourself to living like this, to having ever more fat enveloping your body and weighing you down.

I hope you have a plan for when that day comes. You have to have known it’s coming, however fixated on food you may have been up to now. And there’s no way you can take care of yourself if you can barely struggle to your feet. Don't worry, though; I’m sure some chubby chaser will be happy to step in and make sure you never go hungry. But I wouldn’t expect them to help you lose weight, either. You’d better be ready, because I have to say — I don’t see this ending well for you.

[simplytheevebest]

Fate Season 1 Appreciation Week, Day 6, Aug 12th- Favorite Location: Farah's Office

Author’s Note: A couple snapshots of moments in Farah’s office over the years, from pre-Fate to years beyond. A little bit of angst but mostly fluff. The first one is when Terra, Sam, and Sky are younger; the second is Sky and Stella's first year; the third is canon time; the fourth is post-canon time; the last one is years into the future.

Characters: Farah Dowling, Saul Silva, Sky, Bloom Peters, Aisha, Stella, Musa, Luna (mentioned), Andreas (mentioned), Rosalind (mentioned), Sam Harvey (mentioned), Ben Harvey (mentioned)

Relationships: Silrah (eventual), Skloom, Farah as a maternal figure, Stella/Sky (briefly)

Warnings: References to Farah’s nap/recovery, references to Luna’s A+ parenting, references to drinking

The door opens and closes but Farah is already out of her chair to catch the upset child reaching for her. Terra wipes uselessly at the ceaseless tears coursing down her cheeks, sniffling miserably as her aunt whisks her over to the couch for tissues and tea, letting the girl get her tears out before she asks after their origin. Farah’s well-trained to look for injuries, and she’s satisfied there aren’t any, which means whatever’s brought her niece to tears is not so easily fixed as a bandaid and a sweet for being brave.

By the time Terra’s tears have faded to sad little hiccups, Farah’s accumulated a decent pile of tissues on the coffee table; she waves a hand, dismissing them to the waste bin beside her desk, where her paperwork lies half-finished and ready to be returned to, but not until the little girl at her side has left with a smile.

“I’m sorry. You’re busy,” Terra murmurs quietly, “Your door was shut.”

“Not at all,” Farah replies smoothly. “I’m never too busy for you, sprout.”

Now that Terra, Sam, and Sky are old enough not to be minded every hour of the day -not that that stops Saul trying- there has been the addition of rules for the three of them to keep them from causing general mischief and mayhem. Don’t go outside unless they’ve told an adult first, absolutely no going into the kitchen without Doris’ express permission, all specialists’ weapons and equipment are off limits -and yes Sky, that means no swords to vanquish make-believe dragons, use sticks- and when Farah’s door is closed, it means she’s not to be disturb unless it’s an emergency. The last one is necessary, but it brings Farah no joy to know the children can’t come to her when they need her, and even when they don’t. She didn’t think she’d miss the days Terra would rush to find her with some new plant to show her, or gently fend off Sky’s muddy hands when he shows her a frog, because she never expected those days to reach an end. But Alfea is still a school, and Farah its headmistress, and at the end of the day, though she’s no less important or special to the children that roam its halls in the summer months, they’re not truly hers. Equally unfortunate, that means the time she’d gladly have given them must now be returned to her duties and the hours of endless paperwork.

Though it hurts her heart to have to wipe away Terra’s tears at all, she’s cheered just a little to know the girl still trusts she can come to her aunt to wipe them away.

“Sky and Sam wouldn’t let me play,” Terra reports miserably, “They said they wanted to play ‘just the boys.’”

Ah, well. Sooner or later, it was bound to happen that the boys wouldn’t want to play with Terra anymore, but before Farah condemns their choice, she has to know if it was made will ill-intent.

“Did they say it’s because you’re weak? Or because they think boys are better than girls?”

“No,” Terra picks at her sweater; Farah gently stops her so she won’t make a hole, “Just that they didn’t want to play with me right now.”

“Did they say they’d play with you later?”

“Yeah,” the little earth fairy admits, and Farah huffs a breath she hopes doesn’t sound as amused as she feels.

“I know it hurts terribly to feel left out, but it doesn’t sound like they did it to be mean. Do you think they were being mean on purpose?”

“No.” Terra’s eyes are big and watery as she looks up at her aunt, lips pursed in a pout, “But I just want to play too.”

Farah draws the girl into her arms, smoothing tousled tawny hair from her forehead, “I know my darling, but they’re allowed to play games without you, just as you’re allowed to play games without them. As long as they weren’t mean about it, or because they think lesser of girls, do you understand the difference?”

Terra sighs, her little face scrunched thoughtfully in that way that makes her appear wise beyond her years, “I think so. They wanted to play together, and that doesn’t mean they don’t want to play with me ever again, just not right now? But they said we’d play later. I don’t like being left out.”

“I know you don’t,” Farah offers a smile, and is rewarded with a bigger one from her niece, “But sometimes it can’t be helped. Someone will always be picked first, and someone will always be picked last, and sometimes, you won’t be picked at all. And that’s okay, as long as it isn’t done out of ill intent. When I was younger the boys didn’t want to play with me either, but that was because they did think girls were weaker.”

“So what did you do?”

Farah hides a laugh behind clearing her throat at the memory, staring into the innocent face of her niece waiting for a good story, “I proved them wrong. Sometimes in life, you have to take the high ground.”

It’s not technically a lie.

“You tricked them into falling into the lake,” a voice calls from the doorway, and Terra hides her giggles behind her hands as Saul shoves off the doorframe to enter the office properly, “Though I suppose that did put you on the higher ground.”

Farah tries and fails to stifle a smirk, recalling a sputtering, enraged Andreas vowing revenge and poor Saul, guilty by association but not by true fault, wiping pond muck from his forehead with such disgust it’d taken an egregious amount of self control not to burst into peals of laughter.

“Well in that case they needed to be taught a lesson,” she acquiesces. Saul chuckles, coming to lean against the back of the couch. He wipes the last of Terra’s nearly-dried tears with a sigh.

“Sky and Sam are sorry they made you upset, but they did promise to play later.”

“I know,” Terra sighs as well, folding her arms and hanging her head, “But I wish later was now.”

“Well I’m sure we can find something to keep us busy in the meantime,” Farah offers; she flicks her wrist subtly, and the paperwork still strewn across her desk stacks itself neatly to the side for review later. The beaming smile she gets in return from her niece and the tight hug the girl wraps around her middle makes it more than worth it.

~

“Why do you keep it so bright in here?” Saul gripes, tall frame laid out across the too-short couch and hand settled over his forehead. He paints a comical picture, legs bent awkwardly over the armrest and dangling towards the floor, and Farah feels her lips twitch with an amusement she doesn’t let seep into her tone. She strikes a grammatical mistake in the essay in front of her with more force than is strictly necessary.

“If you have a problem with the lighting in my office, you could choose to go elsewhere.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Saul grumbles, and Farah is treated to his huffing and puffing for the next five minutes as he tries to get comfortable, all while protecting his eyes from what barely registers as a warm glow, but he’s already denounced a “harsh glare.”

“Why did you drink so much if you knew this was going to happen?” Farah scolds lightly, shifting the finished essay aside to carry on with her marking. It’s not the first hangover one of them has nursed in this office, and it won’t be the last. Still, for Saul to drink on a school night, and enough to get hungover the next day, is out of the norm for him.

“I barely had anything, it’s Ben and his damn brew. That’s the last time I’m trying anything he makes, mark my words.”

“Consider them marked,” Farah replies flippantly, setting aside the last essay and capping her pen with finality, elbows braced on the desk, “But you said that the last time.”

“Well this time I mean it.”

“You meant it the last time too.”

“Are you just here to torment me?”

“This is my office Saul, I’m here to do work. You’re the one who chose to come here, to my cramped couch and glaring lights, to nurse a hangover.”

Taking pity on him, and now concluded with her work, Farah rises to brew a pot of tea, dimming the lights as she does, until it’s nearly almost the stained glass windows alone that offer any sort of brightness. Saul sits up when he hears the tea being poured, kneading at the space between his brows.

“Why aren’t you recovering in your suite?” She asks curiously.

“Sky,” Saul answers plainly, taking a sip of tea before elaborating, “He’s got a date tonight with Stella and he wants my advice.”

“So give it to him,” Farah tucks her legs beneath her as she settles in the armchair beside him.

“What do I know about dating?” Saul scoffs, “Besides, it’s not a date with just any girl, this is Luna’s spawn we’re talking about. If he doesn’t show up with crystal roses it might be over before it’s begun.”

“You think too little of her. Stella’s not proven to be as … difficult as Luna. We’ve got to give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“She changed outfit three times on the first day and she did that thing, you know, the one stuck up little snobs do where they give you the once over and make that face?”

“No,” Farah lies, knowing full well what he means having been on the receiving end of that exact trick during her own days as an Alfean, “What look?”

“You know the one,” Saul furrows his brow, but when Farah raises hers in confusion he demonstrates, dragging his gaze appraisingly from her toes to the crown of her head, one eyebrow cocked in disgust and lips twisted in a haughty sneer. Farah has to bite down on her lips -hard- not to burst out laughing.

“Oh that one,” she answers shakily, dragging a stabilizing breath through her nose and letting it out in a rush to disguise her amusement.

“She’s no good for him,” Saul decides.

“Don’t discourage him, he’ll figure it out on his own, or who knows, she might be exactly what he needs.”

“I don’t want to share in-law duties with Luna,” Saul grumbles with such seriousness it sets Farah’s resolve crumbling and she snorts into her tea, tears of mirth brimming in her eyes while Saul innocently demands what’s so funny.

~

Sky doesn’t often stop by her office anymore, not now he’s a student at Alfea and busy with both training, schoolwork, and the increased expectations as the living embodiment of his late-father’s legacy. So it’s a surprise when he knocks on her office door and waits to be let in; there’s far too much to worry about these days, Callum is gone, burned ones are back, so Farah naturally assumes he’s there on “official” business. It takes her half a second to realize he’s come to her as a nephew to his aunt, not a student to his headmistress.

“I’m not making a mistake, am I?”

Farah opens her mouth, closes it, and tries again, “That’s difficult to say. To what are you referring?”

“I mean Stella and I…” Sky trails off, running a hand through artfully-tousled hair. Saul had bemoaned the day he discovered styling mousse, but at least the teen has found "less is more" to be acceptable: he’d looked dipped in oil last year, and Farah had covered many amused flare-ups behind coughs. It’s a wonder the children didn’t think she was dying. Farah waits for Sky to go on, already half-convinced this is a conversation she doesn’t necessarily need to participate in, nor even be here for, but to know Sky still trusts her enough that she’ll listen is a welcome balm to her fraying nerves.

“But then Bloom,” Sky adds, and Farah officially sets down her pen, because it’s one thing the boy getting back with the Solarian princess, but to now also be developing a crush on another girl? And Stella’s suitemate? She brushes aside a sense of deja vu and settles against the ornate backing of her chair.

“Stella is… a lot. But we’re so… in sync? Though not at all,” Sky contradicts, “It’s like she only needs me when she needs me. Or when someone else needs me. She says we’re alike but…”

“And then there’s Bloom,” Sky continues, beginning to pace in a way Farah is familiar with from years with Saul, “And she’s… different. You know?”

Farah doesn’t truly think answering will make much of a difference in this conversation, but she nods anyhow.

“I don’t think I need to do anything when I’m around her. I mean I don’t need to be… what everyone else wants. I can be me. She doesn’t expect anything. Does that make sense?”

Farah nods again, and Sky sighs.

“So am I making a mistake?”

“Have you done anything?” Farah questions, and Sky pauses in his pacing, brow furrowing in thought.

“No.” He straightens, “But I think I understand better. Thanks Auntie Farah.”

He crosses the office in quick, long strides to press a kiss to her cheek and then he’s gone, leaving Farah mildly amused and definitely bewildered, just as Saul steps into the office, staring after his son with a frown.

“What was that about?”

“I have no idea,” Farah answers honestly.

~

The knock at her door is tentative, and Farah presses a hand to her forehead at the sudden sharp pain that slices through her temple when she tries to read who it is. Her magic is… not what it once was, and going up against Rosalind twice now, technically three times but only twice in so few months, and after time spent six feet under as well, she finds any use of her magic, but mind magic particularly, leaves her pained and winded. It’s a slow healing process she’s impatient to end and absolutely cannot rush, or the damage to her magic core will be irreparably permanent, so says Ben.

Taking a steadying breath, Farah clears her throat, “Come in.”

Stella shifts only far enough into the room she is, technically, in the room, door shut tight behind her. She won’t look her headmistress in the eye, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched in a manner unbecoming for the heir to the Solarian throne.

“If you’re busy I can come back,” she offers quietly, but Farah motions to the couch in dismissal of her words.

“If I were, you can be sure someone would be here to stop me.”

No one, Saul least of all, has been understanding nor agreeable to the idea of her returning to her duties as headmistress with the veracity with which she once tackled them. And no one, Saul especially, will let her work late into the night as she once did; it’s approaching the hour when the headmaster will come to check on her, just to make sure she isn’t overexerting herself, but Farah will be pleased to tell him she put away the paperwork long before Stella arrived.

The light fairy stands when Farah attempts to carry the teacups over; neither says anything about the faint rattling from unsteady hands, nor how Farah just-barely collapses in the armchair, exhausted. She hates feeling so weak, so unbalanced and vulnerable, but, as Saul has lectured her many times now, she has every right to feel this way, and every right to be allowed to feel this way, rather than push through or hide it, because there are plenty of people ready to catch her if she falls and help her when she falters. She doesn’t have to shoulder the burden of recovery alone.

“You are not automatically weak just because you’re not currently strong,” Saul had said, and he’s right.

“Has something happened?” Farah asks when they’ve both settled, and Stella shakes her head, staring forlornly into her cup, but then she grimaces and takes a sip to hide it.

“Nothing recent,” she explains, finally meeting her headmistress’ gaze, “I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking and I- my mother’s methods, they were wrong.”

She isn’t truly asking, but Farah nods anyhow, “Yes, they were.”

“And… and just because they didn’t… work, because I lost control… that doesn’t make me a failure.”

“It does not,” Farah confirms, “Failure of the method is not a failure of the person. You never could have succeeded in your mother’s eyes not because you are incapable of success, but because her methods never would have gotten you there.”

“She never would have been proud of me, no matter what I did,” Stella adds, another not-question, but she looks to Farah for an answer, either a contradiction or a confirmation, and Farah’s heart breaks because they both know which it is.

“Whatever your mother thought of you, however she made you feel, it is not a reflection of who you are, or who you can be. You are not the words she calls you, because they are only words.”

“But they hurt,” Stella whispers, and Farah shifts from the armchair to the couch, setting both their teacups aside to take Stella’s hands in her own.

“Of course they do, because they were meant to."

There are tears in the girl’s eyes, and she looks so lost, so much more broken than a teenager her age has any business being. Farah squeezes her hands.

“You are so much more than your mother’s expectations.”

Stella’s breath hitches and the tears begin to fall, sliding silently one by one down her nose and cheeks, then faster as the weight of the last few months settles too-heavily on her shoulders. She pulls a hand free to stifle the sobs working their way up her throat, other hand holding Farah’s in a vice-like grip.

“You never said a-any of this before,” Stella chokes out, voice breaking and tone desperately sad, “When she would say those horrible things to me, you never said anything, you stayed silent and- and I was used to her words but- but your silence said so much more.”

Stella frees her other hand to wipe at her tears, no longer stifling the sobs.

“I thought it must mean you agreed with her,” she admits and Farah’s own eyes sting as she gathers her close, lets the girl cling to her and cry, grieve the injustices her mother’s committed against her, that Farah has, unknowingly, committed against her.

“I’m sorry Stella, I’m so sorry. You have never failed me, nor disappointed me, but I have failed you and there aren’t enough words I could say to make up for hers.”

Stella cries harder, and Farah holds her tighter, tucking her chin atop the girl’s head, eyes squeezing shut against the tears that leak from the corners, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry my darling girl. I should have done better to protect you, and I didn’t.”

“It isn’t my fault,” Stella clarifies, and Farah’s throat seizes at the emotion threatening to choke it.

“Never. None of it was ever your fault.”

~

Her assistant hands over a schedule, color-coordinated in blocks of ink printed fresh from the new color-printer Farah hates. It sits in the corner of the outer office so she doesn’t have to look at it, or use it, or admit she can’t use it. That’s what she has an assistant for, again, and the young woman -a fresh graduate from one of the other world’s third-level institutions who boasted a year abroad in the first world at a university Farah’s never heard of- lifts her iPad -Farah successfully doesn’t wrinkle her nose- to double-check her to-do list.

“I’ve got all the letters for new students ready to be sent out-”

“Excellent,” Farah peruses the schedule, almost shaking her head at the “meeting with headmaster Silva” that’s been penciled in -or typed in- for seven tomorrow, as though it’s not just dinner with the two of them. Saul’s been not-so-subtly complaining not to have seen her lately, that this should be the time they get to relax, and "if he’d known officially acknowledging their feelings meant he’d still have to share her with her headmistress’ duties he’d have forced retirement on the both of them" -an empty threat and they know it. He’s so dramatic.

“-and the inventory is done-”

“Good.”

“-and a group of strange women asked if they could sit in your office so I let them.”

“What?”

Farah looks up from the schedule, all but shoving it into the girl’s hands and cursing age and scars as she hurries up the steps with less grace than she’s typically used to. She flings the door open, already on the offense, but the magic she’s seconds from throwing fizzles and dies at the group seated just inside. They halt mid laugh, turning with amused grins towards their headmistress, and behind her her assistant laughs.

“I’m kidding, I knew they were your old students. I’ve cleared your afternoon.”

Farah dimly replies with a thank you, then the door is shut and she’s reaching for her girls just as easily as they reach for her in a group hug she hasn’t gotten to share in since their graduation. Terra visits often, is in talks to take over herbology from her father, and it’s significantly more pleasant to go to Stella, now Queen of Solaria, than it ever was with her mother. Aisha has been a guest lecturer at least once a semester, and Musa she sees occasionally, as often as she does Riven or Sam or Sky, but it’s been a while since she’s seen Bloom, and the tightness of the redhead’s hug proves she’s been missed as much as she’s missed them.

“I didn’t know you girls were coming,” Farah wipes at her traitorous tears, but they’re happy tears, and the others do the same.

“We wanted it to be a surprise,” Aisha confirms, and Stella leads her to the couches like she isn’t the queen of the realm.

“Bloom’s just been telling us about all the amazing places she and Sky were visiting in the first world,” Musa catches her up with only a hint of sarcasm, and Bloom huffs.

“Yeah, well, it’s nowhere near as magical as here, obviously, but Japan was really cool and we both loved Ireland.”

“We get it, you’re sick of us,” Terra teases.

“And you’ve only been here five minutes,” Aisha adds.

“So how’s it being queen?” Musa asks and Stella rolls her eyes, ticking off a list of royal duties she finds tedious. Bloom settles beside her former headmistress.

“How have you been?”

“Well, and you?”

“Eh,” Bloom shrugs, “Homesick. Mom and dad are talking about moving here, and Stella said she can clear it with the proper authorities. And Sky’s not too keen on leaving, especially because of Silva and his knee. He was ready to pack it in when we got the call but Silva said it was nothing to worry about.”

She turns to look at Farah properly, “Was it?”

“No. Badly twisted, but not life-threatening. Ben says the limp is here to stay, and it was a nightmare trying to keep him on bed rest.”

“So you’re clearly meant for each other,” Bloom teases, and Farah chuckles, clicking her fingers to boil the water for tea.

“So we’re looking to stay for a while,” Bloom continues, “And Terra was mentioning there’s going to be a new curriculum for first world knowledge. She said you guys hadn’t found anyone yet.”

“And would you know anyone?” Farah asks curiously.

“Me, Miss Dowling, I meant me.”

She knows, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up. Still, she can’t help the beaming smile that lights up her face, and just as Bloom has initiated so many in the past, Farah wraps her former student in a hug the young woman accepts happily and readily.

“Oh good,” Musa pipes up, “You told her Sky popped the question.”

“Musa!”

Farah pulls back sharply, gaze drawn to Bloom’s hand, where sure enough Saul’s grandmother’s ring sits on her ring finger now clutched nervously around her other hand. If Bloom thought Farah would be displeased, she’s sorely mistaken; Farah wraps her into another hug the other girls are also quick to join, feeling left out. She lets her eyes close, reveling in the joy of the moment, absentmindedly reaching out to Saul through their bond.

“Come here please.”

Emergency?

“No, a surprise.”

A good surprise?

“Yes,” Farah thinks with a grin, “A very good surprise.”

Author's Note pt2: Kudos to you if you caught the Princess Diaries and Pirates of the Caribbean references I unknowingly added and only caught myself while editing.

[lettrespromises]

#LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification.

──➤ Roronoa Zoro sent you a love letter to celebrate +400 followers, would you like to read it?

@newfriendjen sent a letter : ❝Hi Friend! Congrats again on your 400!! You definitely deserve many more! If you still have a spot open for you event (ignore if you filled them!), can I request: Smut Prompt #15 with Zoro 😏 please and thank you so much!❞ the author sent a letter : ❝dear jen, to say i got a bit carried while writing this is a bit of an understatement! but i hope you’ll like it as much as i liked writing it, all while cackling like a villain as i was writing this. thank you tons for the sweet words, you are such a sweetheart and i’m so lucky to know you! sending you lots of love! sealed with a kiss, nikki.❞

──➤ Prompt used : #15 “Look at what you’re doing to me.” ─➤ Genre : Smut. ➤ Warnings : MINORS DO NOT READ THIS, 18+ ONLY. Sexual intercourse, jealous sex, mild degradation, choking, biting, cunninlingus, penetration, spanking (once), sir kink.

The weather of the New World was often unforgiving, unpredictable, and at times, untamable. Sometimes, Mother Nature showed she was capable of crossing the limit of Nami’s extended knowledge regarding climate (and God knows her brain was severely infused with every secrets regarding the different kinds of weather, rendering her as a living, walking encyclopedia.) But alas, sometimes the rage of Mother Nature would be thrown upon any poor ship unready to face her wrath in the forms of undying tornados and waves that could reach the sky.

Hence why, every morning, Nami’s prediction on today’s weather was awaited by all, very much like a prophecy which was often set to come true— and if said prophecy announced any kind of weather gravitating around the lexical field of a natural catastrophe, one wouldn’t be surprised to perceive Usopp down on his knees in a praying position, diverse and unintelligible wishes to survive Mother Nature’s anger.

Much to the crew’s collective joy, the navigator had announced the most ideal weather— sunshine, a slight breeze and no cloud in sight, what appeared to be a regular weather in heaven. And, why of course, such a hot weather meant that both Nami and the local archeologist, Nico Robin, would bathe under the sun and relieve any kind of tension which had settled in after several fights (or just the exhaustion of having to deal with Luffy on a daily basis.)

And there you were, standing like a mannequin in the girls’ room in company of Nami and Robin, the latter throwing you an amused look at the way Nami was comparing which bikini would look better on you— the red one, an appeal for passion, or the black one, a statement of boldness? Her brows furrowed in unison at her poor attempt to make a decision, comparing how the colors married the shade of your skin.

« Robin, how are we feeling about the red bikini? It’s so cute, but I have a feeling something is missing… » The navigator wondered, her gaze falling on the taller woman next to her.

Robin couldn’t refrain from allowing a giggle from leaving her lips, surely it meant that she had her idea, an ill-intentioned one, that is. And, oh well, to say she had just a mere idea was an understatement : as she remained still, Robin summoned a couple of limbs to look for a green-colored bikini hidden in the drawers only to bring it to Nami’s attention. The two women shared a teasing glance, as if they communicated intentions filled with mischief through their eyes alone.

« I do believe something was missing, too. » Robin trailed off, bringing an index under her chin. « Something that might appeal to a certain swordsman. »

The evil cackle falling from Nami’s lips announced nothing good, and the sweet tone of her voice only deepened that sentiment. « You know how the saying goes : great minds think alike. »

« Hold on, what are you—… » You began, only to be cut off by the navigator, « Yeah, yeah, whatever you have to say, Y/N. We’re not fools, you know? You’re going to look like a real stunner with this bikini on, and I know that a certain someone won’t be able to resist. » She concluded her sentence with a wink sent your way, boy, sometimes you did understand why Zoro called her a witch at times.

« Join us when you’re ready, Y/N. I’m intrigued to see how this will go. » Concluded Robin, accompanying Nami towards the door to let you some privacy so you could change into the bikini, not that you have never changed in front of them and vice versa, but oh well.

You were now all alone, still haven’t moved an inch. Your thumb was brushing against the green fabric of the bikini over and over again until it had become some kind of obsession. But the more the motions continued, the more you realized that perhaps there was no other way to get out of this trap glamorously set by Robin and Nami. A sigh of despair left your lips, swearing to yourself that you’d have your payback sooner than later.

The door of the girls’ bedrooms slammed open, allowing your figure sculpted by the finest hands of the muses of beauty to be exposed to the kisses of the sun. The first sound to rip apart your thoughts was a squeal which left Nami’s mouth, the latter shaking Robin’s forearm with urgency to bring her attention onto you. « Robin, Robin! Look at her, isn’t she to die for? I’d bet all my money that Zoro is going to throw himself on her. I mean, just look at her! »

The same amused smile graced Robin’s facial traits, lowering her shades just a bit to have a good glance at how the oh so awaited green bikini embraced your body. « I must confess that it’s impossible to resist her. »

The words leaving her lips became clearer and clearer the more you approached them, a palette of rosy tones sitting proudly on top of your cheekbones at their compliments. « We saved you a seat, Miss I’m-too-sexy-for-my-own-good. Come with us! » Nami said, patting the empty spot next to her to which you wordlessly replied with a nod, sitting between her and Robin.

« You’re so evil, I kinda hate you for it. » A smile plastered upon your lips as the words died on your tongue.

« You love us and you know it. » Nami replied, letting her hand lingering on your forearm. « Ooh, would you look at that, Robin? The show is about to begin. » She concluded, taking a sip out of her cocktail with a gleam of mischief shining in her eyes.

And by show, the navigator undoubtedly meant the sudden appearance of the Sunny’s resident lover who had stormed out of the kitchen with a plate of different kinds of treats and cocktails for his ladies, spoiling them rotten on sunny days if it meant he could allow his eyes to linger a bit on your bodies in bikinis.

The first act of the show had begun in a flashy manner, as soon as Sanji closed the door leading to the kitchen behind him, the plate he was holding had fell onto the floor, a loud echo reasoning into the swordsman’s ears who was stuck in a deep state of slumber… Until now.

« I must have saved a country in my previous life to be worthy of such a privilege. » Sanji sobbed, falling onto his knees, « Y/N, you’re a goddess amongst us, we’re not worthy, I’m not worthy of your beauty. I will worship you everyday, I will cover you in love until my very last breath! » The cook continued, more and more praises falling from his lips in a continuous cascade as your cheeks were getting more and more red by the second. Alas, the more the blonde sang your praises, the more the swordsman was stirring awake— and if there was one thing Zoro hated with passion besides Sanji, it was waking up to loud noises.

Sanji had approached you, on one knee, the back of your hand pressed against his lips as the tears falling from his lips mixed with the blood leaking from his nose. « Thank you, my goddess, thank you for blessing my sore eyes. Words can’t describe how—… » And he went on and on again, his lips still traveling from the back of your hand to your forearm under Nami’s disgusted stare who yanked you away from him.

« My goddess—… »

« Oi! Do you ever shut up, stupid cook? » And despite the numerous occasions on which Zoro and Sanji have fought, Zoro’s words seemed intensely more acerbic, as sharp as the swords laying to his side, which even surprised Sanji.

« Were you talking to me, mosshead? » Sanji taunted.

« I don’t see anyone else here acting like a damn fool. » Zoro began, his sole eye conveying so much anger you could feel it. « Know your place. »

Nami elbowed Robin once more, the latter having long forgotten about the book sitting on her lap at this point. Sanji stepped towards the swordsman, dangerously reducing the space between the both of them until their foreheads were touching. There was no frown noticeable on Zoro’s face, but a blank expression which let through a pure anger. « She belongs to me, hands off what’s mine. » The swordsman spat, his shoulder hitting Sanji’s as he walked past him, leaving the cook in a stupor.

« Oi! You. » He said, pointing at your frame with his index. « Follow me. You and I are gonna’ have a word. »

He cursed himself for allowing his gaze to fall on your form, knowing damn well that with each second he spent looking at you in this green bikini (this damn color, he thought), the more he was falling under the spells casted by the muses of lust.

« Go get some! » Nami whispered, her tongue gracing her bottom lip.

« We expect all the details afterwards, my dear Y/N. » Robin giggled.

You had barely enough time to form any kind of response that you felt the foreign presence of Zoro’s digits snaking around your wrists and yanking you towards him. « Hey, I’m sure we can talk about this calmly, right? We can chat about it over a drink, I’ll ask Sanji to—… » Alas, your sentence never found its end, your mind going numb at the death glare Zoro sent your way as you mentioned Sanji’s name. But, paradoxically enough, it only fueled your arousal even more.

Zoro led you to the crow’s nest, trapping you and him both inside the same room. And as the silence grew heavier and heavier, until becoming asphyxiating, Zoro’s snicker broke the silence in the most mischievous way. A look of confusion was painted on your face, and you were quick to point at it. « W-What are you laughing at? »

« Do you think I’m fucking stupid? » Zoro half-asked.

You tilted your head to the side, slowly backing away until your back met the unforgiving surface of the wooden wall. « Answer me. » He demanded, one of his hand grabbing both of your wrists in one hold pinned above your head whilst his other hand cradled your jaw so you had no choice but devote your attention onto him.

« I don’t know what you’re talking about. » You pleaded, cheeks burning under the rosy tone as you felt his uneven breaths crashing against the column of your neck.

Wrong answer, Zoro shoved his knee between your already trembling legs. « You like the attention, hah? You love it when that pervert of a cook was throwing himself on you, is that it? Tch. » He was feeding his lust off of the scared expression on your face, blood rushing in the tightest space possible by the second.

« No answer, huh? ‘Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners, because it looks like you forgot who you belong to. » And with that, he dug his teeth into the skin of your neck, alternating between biting and sucking motions to form the most ravishing love bite— a symbol of belonging if you will. You squealed at the sudden sensation of his pearly whites inking his name into your skin, giving him exactly the reaction he was anticipating.

You rocked your hips against the thigh settled between your legs, a desperate attempt at getting some friction for your poor and aching core in need for attention. Zoro clicked his tongue once more at your antics, choosing to hush you by continuing the trail of hickeys adorning your martyr of a neck. « Care to explain what you’re doing? Throwing yourself on my thigh because you couldn’t get the shit cook, hah? You’re so fucking desperate, it makes me want to leave you there all alone. »

« Zoro! Please don’t, don’t leave me! I just need you, I don’t need anyone else but you! I promise I’ll be good but please, please, don’t leave me. » You pleaded, a clear veil of despair covering your eyes under his impassible expression.

The façade worn off soon, letting a smirk throne amongst his facial features instead. « Who do you belong to? » Zoro demanded, gliding the hand that was under your chin to your throat and applied just enough pressure to make sure to earn absolute submissiveness out of you.

« Y-You… » You choked out, the lack of oxygen marrying so well with your growing arousal.

His smirk only grew wider, a real testimony of the sick thoughts implanted in his brain that would make a demon blush. Both of his hand retreated to his side, gaze falling on the unmissable erection showing through his dark pants. His eyes alternated between you and the bulge in his pants, your mouth going dry at the wordless order. « If you want to be a whore, then be a good whore and suck me off, yeah? Don’t give me those eyes, you want it. »

You sunk to your knees, tongue wetting your lips in anticipation for what was bound to come. And whilst your eyes were stuck on his form, your fingers were busy tugging down at his pants to reveal his grey underwear stained with pre-cum. The sight of this alone was enough to send yet another wave of arousal down to your core. And as his cock sprung free from the constriction of his boxers, his girth slapping against his exposed abdomen and the tip rouge from anticipation, you were convinced you could’ve come undone from the sight of this alone.

« Suck. » He ordered, grabbing a fistful of your hair to force your towards his aching cock and the veil of pre-cum coating the tip.

And thus it began. You flattened your tongue, drawing a large lick from the base of his cock all the way to the tip where you finished with a few kitten licks, knowing damn well the head was where all the nerves devoted to pleasure were hidden. « Don’t tease and put your mouth to good use, whore. » Zoro said, almost betrayed by the groan threatening to be released.

Following the rules of performative language, you began to rock your head back and forth around his cock, making sure that your tongue was coating in a lustful love each inch of his girth whilst hums of pleasure were leaving your lips as you went. The hold of your hair in Zoro’s fist grew tighter and so did the metaphorical knots in his stomach as you went along, until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat— such enticing sensation earned a growl out of him. Fuck.

« F-Fuck. Look at what you’re doing to me… Ah! Shit. Enough! » He ordered, yanking your head away from his cock, and the sight of the corners of your mouth dripping with the sweet marriage of his pre-cum and your drool could have provoked an orgasm out of him at this very moment.

« It’s too soon, and it’d be giving you what you want, huh? Too fucking bad, I’m going to cum in that sweet pussy of yours and you’re gonna love it. Ya’ hear me? » He asked without really asking, and taken by a rush of lust, you could only nod in return. « Y-Yes. » You stuttered. « You’re missing something. » Zoro added. You swallowed thickly before adding « Yes, yes, sir. » Your response caused an ill-intentioned snicker to fall from his lips. « That’s right. Now get on your back, and make sure to be as loud as you can, I want everyone on this damn ship to hear how I can make you scream. »

Zoro’s glorious height forced you to lay back until your spine touched the mattress where all the sins would soon break free. The smirk on his face never left, a pure testimony of what all the sinful deeds he was bound to accomplish. You were now trapped between his forearms, hips circled by his knees— bending under his dominance. « Did you wear that for me? » Zoro asked, slapping the string of the bikini top against your skin.

« I d-did, it’s all for you because I’m all yours. » Your response caused a chuckle to break from his lips, sweet words feeding his ego some more. And in a flash, his fingers had ripped said bikini top in half (you made a mental note that you now owed a serious debt to Nami), and there you were, (almost) in all you bare glory. « Fuck, if only you knew the things you do to me. »

Zoro wasted no time and threw all caution out of the window as his mouth latched onto your breasts, the motions of his tongue around your bud causing your spine to pay homage to the moon from how arched it was. His pink muscle flickered around your nipple before he swallowed your breast whole, his drool covering your flesh in a sinful veil. And because he was such a giver for his pretty girl, he gave the same treatment to the other breast whilst gasps left your lips over and over again at the methodical motions of his tongue, your anatomy held no secret for him.

« Are you going shy on me now? Did you forget what I said? » He trailed off, reducing the space between his lips and your ear, « I said I want you to be fucking loud. »

And with that, he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your stomach before tearing apart (once more) your poor martyr of a bikini bottom under your desperate attempts to keep it intact. Were you challenging him? Oh well… Zoro has always been the type to face any challenge thrown his way. « Zoro—… Sir, please! » You pleaded, not knowing really why.

« You’re such a desperate little thing, huh? » He leaned down to face your core, glistening in its lustful glory for him and him only. Zoro pressed a finger against your folds, dragging it vertically to obtain a finger pad covered in your slicks. « So fucking wet for me already? ‘Bet that shit cook can’t make you as wet as me. » He stated, confidence embedded in his every word. « Only you can make me feel this way, sir. » You replied before he crashed his lips onto yours in an uncharacteristically sweet manner to cut you off. « And why’s that? » The swordsman asked, already knowing the answer. « Because… Because I belong to you. » He pressed yet another kiss against your lips for having given the answer that had been lingering on his mind. « Good girl. »

Your reward came in the form of his tongue brushing your folds, flickering motions against your sensitive bud sending you in overdrive as continuous waves of pleasure washed over you ceaselessly, the knots in your stomach tightening each time his tongue touched you. Two of his digits poked your entrance, teasing you to let your torture last before they penetrated you. The sudden sensation caused you to let out a dragged whimper accompanied by his name coated in a sinful tone. « S-Sir please, please just fuck me— I can’t take the teasing, ahh, fuck, fuck! Please, please! » You begged, eyelids shutting close under the pleasure.

But your pleas fell in deaf ears as he kept pumping his fingers in and out of you, sucking onto your sensitive bud to build an orgasm within you that he was bound to deny. He knew you were close by the way you were holding his green hair, tugging him ever closer to your core to amplify the inferno burning within you. But alas, to your greatest displeasure, all the motions ceased in one go under the hint of mischief glowing in his eye.

« You’re gonna cum on my terms, and when I say so. Got it? » He seethed, knowing damn well that his own end was going to arrive soon. He gave his girth a few experimental pumps, allowing the pre-cum to cover his length before shoving the entirety of his cock in one go inside you, barely leaving enough time for your cunt to stretch correctly— and saying that a elongated moan left your lips was an euphemism, the sick grin plastered upon his face grew more and more as the sounds of pleasure drowned in his eardrums. « You’re so fucking tight, shit! » He breathed out, « Look at your pretty cunt swallowing me whole. »

The rhythm of his hips followed the scheme of a crescendo, each slam of his hips against your derrière drew a clearer portrait of both Zoro’s end and your own climax. The nature of the rhythm itself indicated that he was chasing after his own end, and with his head thrown back and his irises dilated under the hunger to satiate the raging fires breaking loose in his abdomen by the second. « S-Sir, it feels— Ah! It feels so good! »

The tip of his cock kissed ever so precisely the roof of your cervix where a panel of nerves designed to draw a lustful reaction out of you every time he thrusted into you. Your vision became more and more blurry until a liquid veil covered your eyes as pearls of tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. Under the pressure of each of Zoro’s thrusts, your body bent to his will and soon you had no longer control over your legs that used to be around his waist, only to be picked up by the swordsman who threw your legs over his shoulder, thus allowing him to reach a deeper part in you and the cries leaving your lips were just the proof of how good he made you feel.

More and more cries echoed against the wooden walls of the room, your sounds of pleasure marrying the groans falling from his lips in a cascade. « Ah, fuck, fuck! R-Right there, please! Shit…! » You pleaded to fuel him some more. His nails were digging into the luscious flesh of your thighs, drawing rouge crescents in his wake.

« Who do you belong to? » He groaned out, his eye admiring the lustful look on your face.

« Y-You! I belong to you, fuck, you a-and no one else! » You attempted to reply mid-moan.

But as much as Zoro knew your anatomy, you also happened to be an expert of his— and the way he planted his nails into your skin, the raw groans loosing their chains to be set free and the way his thighs were shaking… Everything announced the beginning of his own end.

« Cum with me… Now! » He ordered, letting his hand crash against your buttcheek in the process. And there it was, the marriage of two lovers under the spell of lust. The rhythm of his thrusts reached their apex, all whilst he painted your walls with the white color of passion. His own cum was mixing with your own elixir of pleasure leaking from your throbbing core as your cunt was clenching around his cock in despair. The sounds of his hips slamming against yours were long gone now, the room was solely filled with heavy breaths and his name falling from your lips over and over again like a forbidden prayer.

Although Zoro’s stamina knew no bounds, he felt like the oxygen had been knocked off of his lungs. But perhaps it was the price to pay if it meant he could observe you in all your post-orgasm glory after holding it inside you for so long. God, he was so proud of you, proud of every mark he had left onto your skin, proud of the way your skin gleamed under the sweat, proud of being your lover.

« ’S alright, ’s alright. I’m going to pull out, breathe. » Zoro demanded, the sweet tone reserved for you only finding its way back around his words. His digits snaked around his girth to pull out of you, only to witness the satisfying marriage of your cum and his own. You were so good to him.

And whilst you remained unable to move, Zoro fell to your side, his arms quick to lock you into an embrace as your head rested on his chest, his frenetics heartbeats echoing in your eardrums. You loved the peace of the aftermath of any sexual activity involving Zoro, you loved how peace seemed to bend his facial features in the most enticing way.

He was the first one to break the silence, pressing his lips against your forehead whilst he tugged you impossibly closer to him like a reminder that you were indeed here, and would always be. « So whose plan was this, hah? » He asked, earning a giggle out of you in response. « It was Nami’s, although Robin helped too. She said I would one hundred percent ‘get laid’ if I wore this. » You answered, head tilting towards the poor green bikini torn in pieces.

« That witch can go to hell. » Zoro groaned, but the raw tone of his voice was betrayed by the sweet caresses of his digits down your forearm.

« I mean, her plan did happen so I think it’s a win for her. It’s not like you regret what happened, mhm? » Alas, nothing but silence in return. « Zoro? » You called him, but an angel passed. « Zoro! » You repeated more sternly, and this time you were met with the sound of his snores— of course, typical Zoro fashion.

Well, you knew who you were going to thank now.

[mypoisonedvine]

Time After Time | dark!Neil (Tenet) x reader

summary: it’s tricky when feelings get involved in an organization like tenet.  still, you’ve never been happier than you are with your boyfriend Neil, even if he’s a bit elusive and a very erratic coworker.  for all his secrets, you never expected what he would tell you the day he finally proposed.

word count: 5.5k

warnings:  smut!! (dub con, for extremely complex reasons), almost kinda stockholm syndrome?, yandere/soft!dark neil, breeding kink, confusing time travel stuff

"What are we doing here?” you asked as you looked around the safehouse— like any secret Tenet hideaway, it was sleek but sterile, nestled in a historic neighborhood in southeastern Moscow.  It was sort of how you remembered from the last time you’d been here for work, but somebody had rearranged the living room and changed out the rug.  (Knowing the nature of your business, you were pretty confident you knew why the rug was replaced.)  

Neil had made it clear that you weren’t coming here for a mission, but never said what you were here for, and had kept up the veil of secrecy all week long.  At first, you had assumed that since tomorrow was your four-year dating anniversary, it must have something to do with that, but the more you pondered the potential options, the more you were unsure.

You turned to look at him and found him wearing his signature smirk, the one that made you sure he was up to something— but you still didn’t know what.

“Seriously, Neil, just tell me!” you pleaded with a laugh, shoving him playfully.  

“We’re here,” he explained slowly, “because I need to ask you something.”

He sank down onto one knee, clutching your hand in his, as you looked down at him with wide eyes.  "Oh— oh my god,” you barely managed to stammer, entirely breathless.

“As soon as I met you, I knew you were the love of my life,” Neil began with that smile of his that always melted your heart.  “I knew that I had to do everything in my power to make you as happy as you make me, to have you with me until the end of time— whenever that actually comes.”

You laughed a little, but it fell into a sob of joy as he reached into his jacket and pulled a ring out of his pocket, brandishing it to you.

“Darling, will you be my wife?” he asked, almost sounding like he was a little nervous that you’d say ‘no’, for some reason.

“Neil,” you whispered, “of course— yes, yes!”

He popped up and kissed you, smiling too hard for it to be a very effective kiss, though it was a perfect one nonetheless.  You felt him slip the ring on your finger and you felt like you were floating on air.  It was even more surreal than the first time you were inverted.

“I’m so glad you said yes,” he admitted with a sigh of relief against your lips.  You pulled back from the kiss and looked up at him, bewildered but overjoyed.  

“Were you really worried I’d say no?” you scoffed incredulously.

“Terrified,” he laughed, and you laughed too, kissing him again quickly before launching into the first of so many questions you wanted to ask.

“When did you— how did you—?”

“I got the ring last month,” he explained.  “I thought about waiting longer but I was so tired of hiding it from you.  Then it was just a matter of getting you here.”

“Don’t take this as me criticizing your proposal,” you giggled, “but I have to ask: why here?”

He sighed a little, smirking slightly, and looked away before catching your gaze again.  “You’re gonna think I’m a bit crazy—”

“Already do, continue,” you winked.

“But this is where we first met.”

He was right; you did think he was crazy.  You furrowed your brow and laughed nervously.  “Neil, we met at a coffee shop, the one by my old apartment.  I didn’t work here then, you recruited me yourself.”

He chuckled slightly, turning your confusion into an eerie sense of nervousness.  “Sometimes you amaze me with your naivete, darling.  This is where we first met, the first time.”

Gingerly, you pulled your hands away from his.

“I didn’t recruit you, originally.  I was here, working, when a close friend of mine came in and introduced me to the newest member of the team.  It was you… and you captured my heart, instantly.  Only problem was…" he trailed off, chewing his lip as he glanced away.

“Tell me, Neil,” you demanded quietly.

“You’d captured someone else’s heart, too.  And he had already married you.”

You stood up instantly, walking away a little before turning back to stare at him in bewilderment.  You couldn’t believe what you were hearing; you could hardly stand on your wobbly legs anymore.  “I… I had a husband?”

“Yeah, met him once; seemed like a nice guy,” he shrugged.  “But he wasn’t right for you.”

“And how’s that?”

“Because he wasn’t me.”

You shook your head, terrified to imagine the ways Neil had tampered with the flow of time for something as trivial as an infatuation with you.

“I tried to hide my feelings for you, darling, really; we were just coworkers for a long time, I kept it strictly professional.  But the more I got to know you, the more I grew to love you.  I knew I couldn’t be happy just being your friend— you’re my everything.  I tried to tell you— but you wouldn’t listen,” he shook his head.  “You told me you loved your husband.  You told me you had just found out you were pregnant.”

His words hit you like a train and you stumbled back slightly, bracing yourself against a credenza to try to keep from falling to the floor.

“I realized I had to go back,” he continued, becoming a bit more passionate as he explained his plan.  “You couldn’t be convinced if you were pregnant with his child.  But if I was going to invert myself to try to confess my love for you sooner, I figured it would be easiest if I took it a step further and avoided the whole marriage itself.  You had told me once about the day you met him.  So, I went and found you in that coffeeshop, the day before.  And I recruited you to Tenet.  Truth was, we could’ve used you a lot sooner, so it was advantageous to the organization as well— which is why I got approved to be inverted by the boss himself.”

That hurt.  He was Neil’s friend, but he was your friend, too.  Had he known that when Neil went back to recruit you, he would irreparably alter the course of your life?  Or had he only realized later and decided not to try to correct it?

“Don’t look so heartbroken, darling,” he pouted, stepping forward and reaching out to gently rub your shoulder.  “We’re finally together.  Things are finally the way they should’ve been from the very beginning.”

You pushed his hand away and averted your gaze, unable to look at him anymore.  "I'm sorry, Neil, I can't do this— I can't live a lie," you shook your head, beginning to step away.

“No, you can’t go,” he breathed, desperation apparent in his tone along with his expression.  “You can’t go!  I finally got it right this time!”

“Is that why you were afraid I’d say no?” you realized with wide, watery eyes.  “Because I said it before?”

“Yes,” he admitted, faster than you expected.  “But—”

“How many times?”

There came the silence, his nostrils flaring as he crossed his arms and looked away.

“How many times did I reject your proposal, Neil?”

“...Fourteen.”

“Oh my god,” you sobbed, “Neil, you— you never gave me a choice, did you?  From the beginning?  Every time I tried to get away from you—”

“You always knew you belonged with me,” he posited fiercely.  “You always knew, it was why you kissed me that night, a year from now, on the bridge in Oslo.”

“That wasn’t me!” you cried.  “I was never married, Neil, I was never pregnant, I never kissed you on any godforsaken bridge!  You undid it all, and now you’re holding what I never did against me?”

“Even then you knew we were meant to be together,” he explained, stepping a little closer; out of love for the man you thought he was, you had a moment of sympathy for the man he had become, and let him pull you closer and cradle your face in his hands.  He wiped a stray tear from your cheek as he smiled down at you.

It almost felt right for a moment, but you couldn’t trick yourself into believing this was anything but wrong.  "I'm sorry, god, I'm so sorry," you whispered hoarsely as you turned to walk away— but he chased you and spun you back around, overpowering you as you tried to wriggle from his grasp.

“After everything I did for you,” he growled, grabbing your wrists tightly when you tried to get away, “you can’t just walk away from me.”

“You didn’t do any of this for me, Neil,” you spat as you struggled, “you did this for yourself.  You stole my life!”

“I saw your life, it was shit without me, okay?”

"But at least it was mine!"

He grabbed you by the shoulders and pinned you to the wall, making you yelp as he glared at you, eyes wild and teeth bared.  “I’ll just go back and do it again.  I’ll do it a million times until you stay with me forever, I swear.  So what’s the use in fighting me?  You’ll say yes, eventually.  Why don’t you save us both some time— in a sense— and just accept it now?”

This was a side of Neil you hadn’t seen before.  He wasn’t livid, he wasn’t violent (at least, not to the level you knew he could be), but he was undoubtedly threatening you… and you knew that he was right.  More than ever you were sure that he was going to keep doing this, keep taking you through the same loop until he got the outcome he wanted.  It was horrifying to imagine, but at least this way you could know the truth.  Maybe you could even find a way to escape him someday— you couldn’t even imagine how, but you might come up with something later.  You had all the time in the world, after all.

He softened slightly as he must have realized you were considering it, reaching down to pull your hands into his.  You glanced over at the sparkling diamond on your ring finger, remembering how ecstatic you had been to wear it just a few minutes ago.  Now it was a tiny gold shackle, each glimmer of the stone like a silent taunt.

Devastated, but with nowhere else to turn, you began to sob and allowed him to embrace you and pull you into him.  He held you close as you cried into his shoulder, terrified and confused and seeking comfort even if it was from the man who had imprisoned you in time.

“Shh,” he soothed gently, “it’s going to be alright, darling, take some deep breaths for me.  Can you do that?  In—” he inflated his chest, guiding you to breathe with him, which you did to the best of your ability—” and out…”

Smooth breaths were difficult with sobs vibrating your lungs, but you eventually managed to stabilize yourself as he guided you through a few more.  You resented that he knew you so well to be able to calm you down; you resented that your body trusted him enough for it to actually work.

“That’s it,” he praised softly, “you’re okay, it’s okay…”

~

You stared at yourself in the mirror, contemplating the way your face looked through the lacy white veil.  Silently, you wondered if this was how you looked at your first wedding; the one that never really happened, to the man you never got the chance to meet.  You liked to imagine that you looked happier than this, that your eyes were filled with excitement rather than resignation.  

A knock at the door didn’t even tear you from your trance, nor did the sound of it opening; only Neil’s reflection appearing beside yours in the mirror made you snap back into reality, if only slightly.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your ear.

“Bad luck…” you mumbled.  “It’s bad luck,” you began again, “for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

“I think we’ve had enough bad luck for a lifetime already,” he joked, making you furrow your brow and turn around, looking up at him.

He bore a startling resemblance to the man you’d fallen in love with, to the man you’d been ecstatic to marry when he got down on one knee for you in a nearly-abandoned safehouse in Moscow.  Even the way he smiled at you, his gaze so gentle as it scanned your face, was exactly the way he’d looked at you a thousand times— when you first met, as well.  The first time for you, at least.  He’d known you for years then; it was no wonder that he looked at you with such love, struck up a conversation that perfectly targeted your interests.  He must’ve spent years practicing to be your perfect man, until he finally got tired of the lie and trapped you in his twisted idea of the truth.

It made you question his motives for appearing suddenly and spoiling the surprise of you in your wedding gown— a sight he must have been dreaming of for years.

“Did I leave you at the altar?” you asked, below your breath.  “Is that why you’re here?  You came back to stop me?”

He chuckled lightly and brushed his fingers over your face.  “I don’t know yet.  This is the first time.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat.  “How can I trust you?  How can I know you haven’t said that every time?”

He didn’t answer, instead leaning in to kiss you gently.  You closed your eyes, accepting that you could never really know the truth anymore.  Maybe someday you would become comfortable with unknowing, or at least complacent enough to tolerate it.

Walking down the aisle felt sort of like walking toward the gallows, but instead of death waiting for you at the end, there was a life of futility, an existence guided not by destiny or decision but by derangement: one man’s fight, against God and nature, to keep you to himself and steal you from the life you were once meant for.

You managed to keep your footsteps steady, glancing briefly to the pews scattered with parse friends and family— wasn’t much time for either of those with the kind of work you did.  All the time in the world, but not enough time for a real life.  That was why it had been so easy to fall for Neil, since he was one of a few people you spent significant time with.  Had that always been the nature of the job?  Or an orchestration by Neil himself, separating you from others until you couldn’t choose anyone but him?

Thankfully, you managed to get through the wedding without crying more than was appropriate or screaming at him or trying to run away.  You exchanged the vows and the rings, you kissed each other, the whole shebang.  Occasionally you actually managed to enjoy yourself, in those moments that you forgot this was all a hollow facade, greeting guests and listening to toasts and dancing with Neil— your new husband.

You forced yourself to keep up the image of a happy bride for the sake of your friends, and everyone who came here in expectation of a fun wedding.  It was what they deserved, even if it was costing you everything.

But once they were gone, you didn’t know how to play the part anymore.  You didn’t know how to swallow down the sick rising in your throat as Neil led you to the honeymoon suite, how to smile back at him when he looked at you with so much joy.

You didn’t know how to prepare yourself for what you knew he expected.

“I… should change out of this dress,” you realized once you were alone in the hotel room together, and he nodded his approval.  You knew if you looked at yourself in the mirror, you would cry, so instead you focused on getting out of your uncomfortable gown.  The lacy white lingerie underneath was intimidating, not for what it was but for what it symbolized.  You couldn’t go back out there like this, obviously— so you grabbed one of the puffy white robes, the hotel’s logo stitched onto the breast pocket, and you threw it on as you stormed out of the bathroom and directly to the balcony.

Tears threatened to burn your eyes as you looked out over the London skyline.  It was stunning, and it made you appreciate that you should be thankful for the freedoms you did have.  There was a big, beautiful world out there and you had the means and the motive to explore it all, if you wanted— you’d already seen more than most.  

But you still mourned for the life you never lived.  Some would argue that in an infinite number of alternate universes, you had the choice to leave him if you wanted to; and apparently, from what Neil had implied, you usually took it.  Yet, that was useless to you now.  The irony was not lost on you that you would be so spoiled as to hate your life when you were standing on the balcony of a luxurious hotel, in a gown that cost more than your first degree, with a gorgeous new husband and more money than either of you would ever have any use for.  You knew you were being petulant.  But something deeper longed for freedom, with everything it cost.  Does it matter how decadent a cage is, if you are still trapped in it?

The balcony door opened behind you, and you defiantly sniffled, quickly wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

“Darling?” Neil gently called to you.  “Is everything alright?”

You didn’t answer, fearing the waver in your voice would give you away.

“I know it’s all a little… overwhelming,” he relented, his voice coming closer along with his footsteps.  “But you really have nothing to worry about.  I think you’ll rather like it.”

“Like what?” 

He paused for a bit before he replied.  And when he did, he said it like it was obvious: “Being my wife.”

You turned to face him, expecting rage in your voice but hearing only sadness.  “And if I don’t?  You’ll just… go back, and do it again until I do?”

He sighed a little, seeming hurt by the question.  “Please, darling, it’s our wedding night,” he cooed, “you can’t hate me.  Let me remind you how good we are together…”

His touch was distantly familiar, and against your better judgement you relaxed a bit and let him pull you closer, his cheek brushing against yours as he spoke beside your ear.

“I never inverted for this,” he explained with a whisper, fingertips grazing over your arm.  “I didn’t learn your kinks, memorize your body and then go back to impress you from the beginning.  The first time we were together… it was the first time for both of us.  And it was perfect.  Do you remember?”

You nodded.

“Tell me,” he instructed, lifting your chin to tenderly kiss your neck.

“Paris,” you sighed.  “We were posing as lovers to check in to a hotel without arousing suspicion.  I’d been enamored with you since I first met you and I thought maybe you felt the same way, but I told you we couldn’t be together because of Tenet…”

“But I kissed you anyway,” he reminded you.

“And I didn’t care about Tenet anymore,” you remembered.  “I just needed to feel you.  And we made love for hours— nearly missed our signal to get out of the building.”

He chuckled lightly against your skin, his fingers leaving goosebumps where they travelled across your back.  “It was worth it,” he decided.  “It was beautiful.”

You pulled back and looked up at him, finding so much love in his eyes, and you searched desperately within yourself for a way to love him in return again after what he’d done.  

Swallowing, you slid your fingers into his hair and examined his face one more time, illuminated in the faintly bluish glow of the city lights.

“Go back,” you whispered.

“What?”

“I need you to go back,” you repeated.  “To the day you proposed.  Don’t tell me the truth this time.”

Realization dawned on his face, somber but calm.

“I’ll be yours, Neil,” you promised, “forever, like you wanted.  But I can’t live like this.  I can’t live knowing what you’ve done.  And I can’t live with myself if I know that I gave in to you.”

“I hate to leave you on our wedding night,” he argued, turning away slightly— but you held his face and pulled him back to look at you.

“Do this for me,” you pleaded.  “Consider it a wedding present.”

He gave you a small, sad smile before he embraced you again.  "Anything for you," he whispered as he kissed you on the top of your head.

~

Neil all but kicked the door down as he carried you in his arms, unable to break the kiss even for a moment to open the door properly.

He stumbled around the room a bit before he finally tossed you onto the bed, eliciting a girlish squeal as the puffy layers of your wedding gown's elaborate skirt flipped up over your head.  Growling playfully as he climbed atop you and slotted himself between your legs, you pushed your dress out of the way to look up at him.

As your laughter died down and you examined his face, you were compelled to reach up and hold his jaw in your hand; he turned his face slightly to kiss your palm as you caressed his cheek.

"I love you," you sighed as you brushed a stray strand of hair back out of his face.

"I love you too," he smiled, "more than you could ever know."

You rolled your eyes.  "There goes my husband with his crypticness again."

He hummed at the title, kissing you again.  You figured you were lucky he didn’t rip the dress as he got you out of it, growling when he saw your lacy white lingerie underneath.  “You really are too good to me, darling,” he purred, leaning down to capture a nipple between his teeth through the fabric until your back arched.  “All wrapped up for me like a pretty little present…”

You whined when he slipped his fingers down between your legs, toying with you and refusing to just pull the panties aside and get on with it.  Of course he had to draw it out, savor every inch of you, but did he have to drive you so crazy along the way?

"Neil, please," you whimpered, "need you…"

"I know," he soothed between heavy breaths, kissing down your chest and stomach until he reached where you'd nearly soaked through your flimsy lace.  He kissed your swollen clit right through the fabric— damn him that just that little touch made you moan and grab his hair.  He loved seeing the effect he had on you, it was clear by the way he grinned and did it again, a little firmer, relishing in the way you squirmed.

Finally, he pulled your panties aside; although of course he did it tantalizingly slow before sliding his tongue through your folds, moaning lowly when you accidentally pulled his hair a bit.

He looked so damn good with his face between your thighs, staring up at you and holding you in place with his petrifying gaze.  His eyes were always uncharacteristically dark when he did this to you, like he'd been waiting all his life for this moment.  Like the taste of you drove him wild.

You shuddered when he pushed his tongue inside you, instantly putting pressure against the most delicate places inside you.  When the pleasure threatened to become too intense and you instinctively tried to squirm away, his strong hands gripped your thighs and held you down nearly effortlessly, likely leaving marks on your skin for you to notice tomorrow, to remind you that you were his.  As if the ring wasn’t enough.

“Fuck,” you groaned, “please— please let me come.”

You didn’t always ask him for permission, but he always gave it when you did.  So you weren’t expecting him to grin and stop his task to suck a hickey onto your thigh.  “Not quite yet,” he purred.  “I need you to ask really, really nicely…”

“Um,” you stalled, distracted by watching him leave a trail of marks along your skin with his teeth, “please… don’t stop, Neil, please let me come… I’ll do anything, you know I will.”

“That’s already true,” he reminded you, snarling as he gave your pussy a sudden spank; you yelped and jolted from the impact, but it ended with a moan and more wetness gathering at your hole.  “You can’t be so obedient all the time and try to use it as a bargaining tool, darling.  You know better than that.  Offer me something I don’t have.”

“If you let me come,” you pondered your potential options as you bit your lip and rocked your hips up in hopes of friction, “I’ll… make dinner, every night, for a week—”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“A month!” you blurted out instead.

“You’re negotiating against yourself,” he chuckled, slapping you right on your clit and making you cry out.  “And you’re not much of a cook.”

You were teetering on the edge, desperate for any leverage you could grapple onto, keening for just a touch more stimulation to bring you the rest of the way— and you were so fucking close.  You could only think of one thing Neil wanted, that he didn’t have, that you could give.  And it was a stupid idea, but you needed to offer him something fast before those dreaded spanks between your thighs made you come before he’d given permission.

“We can fuck on a mission,” you announced through your teeth.  Finally, you felt like you had his attention.  The only time that had ever happened was the one time you let it happen— the first time.  The next day you’d had a long conversation about how you weren’t going to let feelings interfere with the job; he agreed, and since then the two of you had done a pretty good job of separating business and pleasure.  Although he did occasionally get irritated with your work in the field and take it out on you that night in bed, but that doesn’t count, right?

“Really?” he mused.  “Whatever happened to boundaries?  What happened to ‘respecting the other team members’?”

“They don’t need to know,” you explained.  “Please, Neil, I really really need to cum.”

He pressed a thumb to your clit and drew slow, relaxed circles— just slow and relaxed enough to make sure you couldn’t come from it.  You sobbed and let your head fall back, exhausted of his teasing.  “How can you be sure you’ll be discreet enough?  You’re not exactly… subtle,” he smirked, your moans now exactly proving his point.

“Can’t be loud with my mouth full,” you countered, and his smile finally fell.  You finally had a bit of power back.

“You’d really suck me off on a mission?”

“If you can promise to keep quiet,” you chuckled.

He growled a bit as he dove back in, the sudden pleasure forcing a deep moan from your lips.  “Fuck,” he mumbled against you, “so dirty for me, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agreed as you bit down on your lip.  “God, I’m close, just don’t stop…”

“As long as you keep up your end of the deal,” he smirked, and you nearly forced his head back down between your legs but thankfully, he kept his mouth shut after that— well not quite shut, just busy, and before you knew it the pressure that built in your gut finally flowed over and you sobbed his name at the peak of your orgasm.

He kept going for just a moment too long, sending white hot shocks up your spine from the overstimulation, but thankfully he slowed down and pulled back, licking his lips and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

With that out of the way, and you nearly melted into the bed at this point, he sat up and hastily opened his belt and fly while he gazed down upon you with a burning hot stare.

"I should return the favor," you offered, sitting up slightly and reaching to wrap your hand around his length, but he shook his head.

"I’ll get my chance, but right now I just need to be inside you,” he explained gruffly.  “Can’t spend another moment without being buried in this gorgeous cunt of yours; I might die if I can’t have you now.”

"Well, if it's a matter of life and death," you grinned, poorly faking indifference as he shoved you back and caged you in, guiding his cock to your dripping wet entrance.

“Ready, darling?” he prompted quietly as you felt the head of him prodding at you.  You nodded, and yet you still gasped and clutched his forearms when he pushed into you.  It was like the first time every time, with the way his thick length speared into you and stretched you open, but you craved it regardless; by now it wasn’t even pain, just raw sensation that pushed your limits in all the right ways.  He sighed a bit when his hips met yours, already pulling back and setting the pace of his thrusts.    

Even with how wet you were, there was friction just from the size of him, but it was the right kind of friction— a smooth, slow drag against your walls that compelled you to wrap your legs around his hips and hold him deep inside you.

“Is that how you want it?” he interrogated.  “Deep?”  You nodded and he chuckled a little.  “I can do that.”

He stopped moving only for a moment to grab your legs and push them up, such that when he thrusted again, the tip of his cock hit the furthest places inside you and you choked on your own moan.  "Fuck!" you croaked, eyes shooting open and hands reaching out to clutch his shoulders.

"How deep am I inside you?" he asked coyly, well aware of the answer already.

"So deep,” you slurred, barely able to form words with a heavy tongue and empty lungs, “all the way…"

"Good."  He leaned down and growled against your ear.  "I hope I knock you up tonight."

His words shocked you, in the best possible way.  You surprised even yourself with the way your body reacted, and your hands were almost moving of their own accord as they grabbed his face and pulled him into a deep, needy kiss.

“Neil,” you mumbled as you broke it just enough to look up at him, “put a baby in me.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, thrusting into you faster than ever, “I will, darling…”

He was unstoppably filthy after that, relentlessly pounding into you, claiming your entire body as he whispered unimaginably dirty things in your ear.

"I know you want it so badly, darling, I know you need to be filled with my seed… can't wait to see you all round and glowing with my baby in you."

You didn't understand his emphasis on the word "my,” as if it could ever be anyone else's!  But you didn't really notice that very much, too busy crying out at the feeling of him stretching you out and reaching the deepest places inside of you.  “Neil, please— I’m so close, want you to come with me,” you whimpered.  

“Yeah?  Wanna squeeze my cock with this pretty little cunt while I fill you up, darling?” 

“Please,” you sobbed, and you were sure you’d never needed him this bad; never needed anything this bad.

Deep little growls coming from between his teeth signified that he was close, and you felt your body tightening around him as you reached your peak one more time, much more intense than before and so much louder than you meant for it to be.  He finally spilled inside of you, painting your walls with his spend as you whimpered and began to descend from your high.  His body relaxed atop yours, though his arms wrapped around you to hold you close.  After a few moments of that, he fell onto his back and you laid your head on his chest, humming happily at the feeling of his warmth seeping out of you.  You were confident you’d be sore all over tomorrow, but you couldn’t feel it now as the afterglow served as a painkiller, keeping you numb and happy while you cuddled into him.

His arm around your shoulders pulled you closer so he could kiss your forehead.  You looked up at him, admiring the way he looked horribly disheveled and yet entirely perfect; he looked back at you, smiling softly.

"Can't believe you're finally mine," he sighed wistfully, "forever."

[galaxysupreme17]

Hold On

Olivia Benson X Daughter Reader!

TRIGER WARNNING! Cutting/Bullying/attempted suicide. So this isn’t my first time writing but it is my first time posting on here. I write a lot of stories manly about my favorite tv shows/characters. Anyway this is a short story about being Olivia Benson’s Daughter and having depression and someone keeps leaving notes telling you to kill yourself. Olivia is currently a detective around season 14. If you guys have any request send them in and I will write them! 

As you walk through the walls of your high school trying to keep your head down, not wanting to be seen, you walk up to your locker and open it. A bunch of notes come flowing out of it. You squat down, pick them up, and read through them. 

“No wonder your mom is ever around. It’s probably because you are a horrible no good person” and another “my god just go kill yourself” and another “the world would be a better place if you weren’t here.” 

After reading all of them you quickly shoved them into your bag and shut your locker. You walk home and as fast as possible open your apartment door. You run to your bedroom and burst into tears.

 You have been getting these notes for months and slowly you have been believing them. You have your own personal bullies. Their names are Holly and Jamie. They make your life a living hell as often as they can.

 Holly is the captain of the cheerleaders and Jamie is captain of the football team. You open your bag, after drying your tears, and pull out the notes putting them with the others, which are in a box on your desk right next to the picture of you and your mom. 

You smile at the picture through your tear eyes and pull out a pen and paper. You quickly write down a suicide note and leave it on the counter in the kitchen for Olivia to find.

 You then walk to the bathroom and pull out a bottle of pills and your razor. Before doing anything you think about your life.

Olivia was the best mother in the world. Always coming to every performance of every musical and always being there when you needed her. She would be there when you woke up and when you went to bed. 

You remember going to the park when it was snowing and the rest of the squad went and you and Fin ganged up on Cragen throwing snowballs at him. Then the bullying started and your depression and anxiety got worse. You dropped theatre and show choir because you didn’t feel the joy of singing anymore.

 After a little bit of thinking you continued with your plan. You took the razor and slid it across your arms and legs watching as the blood came running down. You grab the bottle of pills and start taking them; at first one by one but then continued until even after you started to feel dizzy. Within in minutes you passed out on the floor. 

~With Olivia~

Olivia finally got off work just ready to be home. She was happy because she was finally going to have an evening with you. She had planned to let you pick dinner then you both would curl up on the couch and finish watching Gilmore Girls. You started that show together loving it because it reminded you both of your relationship with each other.

 You were Rory and Olivia was Lorelai. The memory makes Olivia smile as she drives home. As soon as she parks her car and heads the flight of stairs, she gets a sickening feeling in her gut telling her something is wrong. Olivia rushes to the door and fumbles with her keys to get the door open. Finally, after struggling, she gets the door open and walks inside.

 “Y/n! Y/n Where are you?” Olivia sets her stuff down and sees the note, it reads. 

“Dear Mom, I am so sorry for this. I just can’t take it anymore. The real reason I quit theatre and show choir was because I have been bullied. For awhile now actually. I just cannot stand to live another day. They keep telling me it is for the best that I die and I believe that is true. Just now that I did fight. I fought for so long. I truly just cannot continue fighting. Know that I love you and none of this is your fault, I know you are going to blame yourself for not seeing it sooner but I am serious, none of this is your fault. I just can’t continue on. I don’t think I can continue on, I feel numb and like no one wants me. I love you momma never forget that.” By the end Olivia had tears streaming down her face as she ran to the bathroom banging on the door, 

“Y/n! Please stay with me baby please! Open the door Y/n!” Olivia yelled.

 Pulling out her phone she called 911 and busted down the door. As soon as she saw your body laying on the floor she broke. Immediately, Oliva checked for a pulse which was weak but there. 

“Please don’t leave me baby! Hold on baby-girl please! I love you so much sweetheart!” Oliva cried as she began doing CPR. 

The ambulance soon showed up and the took you and Olivia to the hospital. Olivia called Fin and asked to go check your bedroom for anything and bring it to the hospital. Of course Fin immediately jumped and ran when he heard what happened. Fin was still at the precinct when Liv called and Cragen happened to also be there. 

Fin told Cragen everything and the two took off to go to Liv’s apartment then the hospital. Once the found the notes from your classmates and the suicide note they drove to the hospital. Olivia was waiting in the waiting room and when she saw Fin and Cragen she stood up again, on the verge of tears.

“Liv what happened?” Cragen asks looking her. Oliva cleared her through trying not to cry.

 “I uhh had this feeling something was wrong and when I finally got into the apartment I saw umm the note. I ran to the bathroom and the door was locked so I called 911 and broke down the door. She was just laying there *her voice cracks* y/n looked to helpless it broke me.” Olivia explains and starts crying again. 

Fin pulls her in for a hug and they all three just stand there. Olivia walked away to call Rachel your best friend. Rachel Cabot is Alex Cabot’s daughter and your best friend. The two of you have been through thick and thin together. Olivia knew she needed to call Alex and Rachel so they could be here. 

After calling Alex, who said they would be down there soon, Olivia returned to the waiting room where your doctor came walking out. “Olivia Benson?” She asked softly. 

“That’s me” Olivia said standing and walking forward. “Hi! I’m Arizona Robbins. So me and my team were able to pump Y/n stomach and stich up their wounds. They are still asleep and it might be awhile before they wake up but I can take you back to see them if you want” 

“Yes please” Olivia says letting out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding. As soon as they reached your room, Olivia covered her mouth trying not to cry. She sat next to your bed and held your hand, not wanting to let go. 

Hours later you woke up not knowing where you were. Olivia felt you moving and immediately jumped looking at you with a soft smile. 

“Mommy?” You say barley above a whisper. “Yes baby I’m right here” Olivia says wiping the tears away.

~Days Later~ 

You were sitting on the couch reading your favorite book Little Women. “Y/n can I talk to you about something serious?” Olivia asks walking over and sitting on the coffee table in front of you. “What is it?” You ask setting your book down and turning and looking at her. 

“If you don’t want to talk about it I completely understand but, why didn’t you tell me about the notes from the kids at school?” Olivia asks looking at you watching your facial expressions. 

“I don’t know. I just felt like if you saw them you would agree or would tell me I’m just being dramatic and over reacting.” You say trying not to cry.

“Listen to me Y/n; I will always be here for you to talk or just to cry. I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t come to me. You are my daughter and I never ever want you to feel like I would judge or yell at you. I love you so much baby” Olivia says opening her arms causing you to jump into her arms hugging her. 

“Thank you. I love you too mom” You smile as she tightens her grip around you.