#Medicine Pocket you are the light of my life

[tofutopping]

The amount of screen time Medicine Pocket got in the new LUCY PV!? EXCUSE ME?!? MEDIPOC FANS, OUR TIME HAS COME!!

[toms-cherry-trees]

"Look After You" || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Time and distance cannot break certain promises

Word count: 4.2k

Tags: Mentions of war, mental asylums, unjust imprisonment, mentions of controversial mental health treatments, cross dressing (?), implications of violence against women, illness, no betareading we go in raw

Author's note: You might have seen this post where I mention the life of Dorothy Lawrence. Well this is very loosely based on her life mixed with Tommy's story. Left it very open to a part 2 if people like the premise.

(Yes my people watch me put together moodboards instead of choosing gifs)

Requested tag (hope not to disappoint) @brummiereader @emotionalcadaver

The asylum stood tall and imponent before Tommy’s gaze, its towering central dome and flanking turrets framed by the bright sun rays of a cheerful spring afternoon. The radiant gardens contrasted dramatically with the derelict state of the building itself; rusty and broken drainpipes hanging from the roof, rotten wood frames and shattered window panes, missing chunks of brick on the walls, revealing the inner framing and plaster. Nothing about that place inspired trust to those who crossed its threshold, let alone hopes of betterment. The lamentable exterior stood like the perfect match of the decadence within.  

The smell of rot assaulted him the second he entered. The paint had started to peel off, and moisture stains crawled across walls and ceiling. Most windows in the main hall were shuttered, and the incandescent light bulbs did little to cut through the darkness, casting a sickly shadow over the room. The orderly that welcomed him in the entrance had an embittered face, and he questioned Tommy on his name, whom he was visiting and his reasons to. He patted him down and overturned his pockets, making him leave behind anything that could be used to harm or be harmed. Cap, cigar case, lighter, sleeve garters and shoelaces stayed behind while another orderly led him through long hallways and endless locked doors towards the morning hall where he’d meet the purpose of his visit.

Finally, they stopped before a wide set of oaken double doors with panels of rubbed glass, which allowed him a faint peek of what happened on the other side. The orderly barely opened the door enough to enter himself and told Tommy to wait outside, as if he feared something may escape from within given the chance. After a few minutes he returned, leaving the gap open for Tommy to pass through.

 “Sister Janice will take you to her. Don’t look at other patients. Don’t talk to other patients. If they come to you, ignore them. Don’t take anything they give you”

Perplexed, curious and mostly annoyed by all the delays, Tommy ducked under the orderly’s arm while he held the door open. As soon as he stepped inside the orderly let go, and the door closed behind him with a heavy click.

The sudden brightness hurt his eyes after the unceasing darkness, and Tommy had to squint briefly as his pupils grew accustomed to his surroundings. An ample hall stretched before him, arch windows spanning from floor to ceiling lining the west and north walls. Moth eaten draperies of blue velvet had been drawn back to allow sunlight in, in hopes of insufflating some life into the gelid heart of the asylum.

The room had surely once been a magnificent ballroom, but had now been reduced to the sad, dirty, abandoned alcove where the non-aggressive patients spent most of their waking hours, some engaged in the very few activities offered to them, others dragging their feet and mumbling to themselves like lost souls, their gazes absent and their appearance unkempt. Not one person appeared to have a coherent thought there, and Tommy wondered if it was due to their own ailments, or due to the medicines the nurses forced down their throats to keep them tame and peaceful, albeit stupid. 

As Tommy walked past, he couldn't help but notice the way his presence drew attention from them. The patients stopped in their tracks to stare at him as if he were the most marvellous wonder they had ever seen. They pointed at him, uttering incoherences and laughing at jokes no one else heard. Some tried to get close but were forced back with a sharp gesture by the nun accompanying him, whom only now Tommy noticed, carried a mean looking leather strap, hanging side by side with a rosary from her cord belt.

At long last, she came into view. Slouched on a rocking chair facing the windows, a ragged purple cardigan thrown over a white, floor length dress, resembling more a nightgown than any sort of decent clothing. A white linen cap covered her hair, and Tommy noticed that the ties had been removed, as had been from the rest of her garments. She looked thinner, thinner even than she did in France. She gave no indication that she had noticed their presence, her dulled eyes fixated on the gardens outside.

 “I have it from here, sister” Tommy dismissed the nun with a wave of his hand, dragging a nearby stool to sit next to the woman.

 “I’m sorry Mr. Shelby, but I cannot allow you to be unsupervised with a patient. She seems tame now, but who knows what atrocities a woman of sin like her might commit”

Tommy wanted to snort. She barely looked strong enough to hold herself in the chair, how could she harm anyone?

“She won’t attack me sister” Tommy insisted “Now step back, and I will make sure the asylum is handsomely rewarded for your troubles.”

The nun opened her mouth, ready to argue, but then chose against it. The asylum could do with some extra coin, after all. She straightened up and smoothed her habit, perhaps a way to reinstate her authority that Tommy had so brazenly challenged. 

“You have half an hour” She stated at last before walking away towards a group of patients who were seemingly arguing over a doll.

Tommy’s gaze returned to the woman in front of him, who continued to be absent from the world around her, and who gave no sign of life other than the steady rising and falling of her shoulders with each breath. Thomas allowed the pause to linger between them a few seconds longer, but he didn’t want to waste his allotted time. He wouldn’t put it past these people to drag him out like that; the laws of men did not apply in these sorts of places.

He called her name softly, in a nearly soothing whisper. Once, twice, thrice, yet it did not do to her more than the drafts howling through the broken panes or the maniac laughs of the patients around them. He didn’t want to touch her and risk startling her, but he didn’t want to spend his visit staring at her left cheek. He took his last chance, using this time a different name, a name he had not pronounced since 1915.

“Private Anders”

The name stirred something in her mind. Her back straightened a bit and her features quivered in recognition. Slowly, stiffly, she turned towards Tommy, her eyebrows first furrowing in confusion then rising in surprise.

“Sergeant Major?” Her shock could not be disguised, and she readied to rise and salute, but Tommy motioned for her to remain seated.

“At ease, private” 

~

Tommy recalled perfectly the first day he saw her. They were stationed near Albert, digging up a new front line as they tried to gain terrain from the Germans. The troops from the British Expeditionary Force and the 179th tunnelling company consisted mostly of coal miners, all turned sappers whose task was to ready up the land for battle. The clay rich soil basically melted between their fingers when it rained, making the digging of trenches and shelters a never-ending battle. The dampness crept up their legs and seeped into their bones, and Tommy had seen one too many soldiers whose feet rotted inside their boots. Even the strongest men, used to work from sun to sun in the depths of the coal mines breathing dust and methane, would sometimes succumb to the elements. 

Tommy worked paired with Tom Dunn, a man as thick of back as he was of skull. He could easily lift an adult man and throw him across the field like a sack of potatoes, and legend has it he pulled the coal carts in the mine when the horses couldn’t. If left to it, he could probably dig out the trench with only his hands and his helmet.

He had been the one to introduce Tommy to her. Dunn had hidden that little lunatic in an abandoned cottage, not too far from where the troops were stationed. Somehow, she had obtained a uniform, which she had padded with cotton wool to flatten her curves and broaden her shoulders. Her hair had been cut in a military style, scrapes on her cheeks simulated a shaving rash, and potassium permanganate attempted to sharpen her jaw and cheekbones with dark shadows. 

She slept in a damp mattress, with little more than a threadbare blanket to keep her warm; she had no means of acquiring something better, nor could she light a fire in the dusty hearth for fear of being discovered. Dunn had been feeding her with whatever he could spare from his own rations or snatch from others, which meant she had been eating the minimum for survival, since the woods offered nothing but naked branches at that time of year. 

Tommy had been left thunderstruck, far too much to react properly. A million questions came to his lips, and a million died there as his mind couldn’t exactly put into words what he wanted to know. His gaze flickered between them both, who looked at him pleadingly like a couple of children asking their parents to stay up late. His first instinct was to call up their superior and hand her over to them, for her own safety, but then he thought about it better. The things that could happen to her if he handed her over to the war office…and that’s it, if they handed her over in the first place, or chose to make justice themselves.

No, for the sake of her safety and his conscience, he would play along with them for now.

“What is your name?” He inquired, a simple question to cut through the gelid silence that had befallen them.

For an answer, she handed Tommy papers and a matching dog tag. Forgeries, most likely, and very good ones, which meant she spent money on those. Paying from her own pocket to go to war

They held each other's gaze for endless seconds. At long last, Tommy offered a handshake.

“Welcome to the 179th tunnelling company, Private John Anders. I’ll look after you” 

~ 

Tommy hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the meeting. The person who sat before him, hunched and dirty and completely lost to the world, bore no resemblance to the fiery, and perhaps a little unhinged, woman that had gone through every length to infiltrate herself in the front line. Years of memory seemed to have been erased from her mind, but she recalled vividly everything she went through in her time in France. She did not know the day and year she lived in but could easily recite the names of every man she met from the 179th, as well as every technique they implemented to dig out the clay.

Tommy was sure that, if he were to put a shovel in her hands, she would unconsciously start digging. 

He had partly placated his worries by placing a nurse in the asylum, one handpicked by Polly and paid out of his own pocket, to look after her. But that solution felt like not enough. Not by a mile. What that place did to her, what they were turning her into…Killing her bit by bit, stripping away her sanity to erase from her any memory she held of those weeks in the front. He still recalled the tunnel collapse, when the rain-soaked clay began to crumble over them like cold tar, obscuring their vision and sticking their feet to the ground. How the men dragged out each other, coated from head to toe in the reddish paste. She had tripped, her foot had gotten stuck, he couldn’t tell anymore. All he knew was that she had been left behind, and he had re-entered the tunnel for her. Feeling his way through the darkness, keeping an eye on the entrance, calling her name out; her fake name, for even in the face of danger he had the mental fortitude to remember the importance of her cover up. How she dropped her own facade, her fearful voice calling him as she stretched her arm towards him.

Tommy, Tommy, Tommy

“Tommy!” Billowed an angered female voice, dragging his thoughts back to the present time. 

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, attempting to dissipate the fogs of the past that laid over them. Because he was not in the tunnels, nor in the Western front. He was sitting in his office, behind his desk, nursing a whiskey in his hands and with Polly sitting across him, equally angered and perplexed at her nephew’s inattention.

“You know I don’t appreciate my words being wasted”. It sounded like a threat, but half of the things Polly said usually did “If you had no interest in this briefing, you could have rescheduled our meeting”.

“You hate your time being wasted” Tommy pointed out.

“Which is exactly what you’re doing now” She remarked.

Silence lingered in the office while Polly lit a new cigarette and Tommy downed his drink, which had already begun to warm in his hands. He stood to pour another, which he finished almost immediately.

“So” Polly began, exhaling the smoke in an elegant blow “Will you tell me what’s on your mind?” As usual, Polly could see through him as easily as one would do through a clean glass. It unnerved him sometimes, to be laid open so vulnerably under her watchful gaze.

“It’s nothing” Tommy sat before the fire; hands laced behind his head in an attempt to seem relaxed.

“There’s been many things on your mind, Tommy, and nothing has never been one of them”. Polly’s slender fingers ran across the glass bottles on the bar cart before settling on gin, pouring herself a more than generous serving.

“You’re thinking of her”.

Tommy immediately thought of denying it, but what was the point? When Polly knew, no one could tell her otherwise. And as much as he hated others meddling in his business, the words came tumbling before he could hold them back.

“I’m just worried. She’s not the same she used to be. I don’t know what they do to her in that place, but she’s changed. Those medicines they give her, and who knows what else they’ve done. You know the treatments” He shook his head, as if to dismiss everything he said “Just worried” 

“It’s been many years since you last saw her. Everyone changed after the war. God knows you did”.

“This is not the same. They’re killing her there” Tommy stared up at the ceiling, as if hoping to find a solution to his problems in the plaster. Polly only watched him, pondering over her next words carefully. She only hoped she would not regret whatever her nephew chose to do next.

“If her wellbeing worries you so, you have to do the right thing”

He frowned, turning to look at her with confusion clear in his eyes. Polly sipped the gin, swirling it around her mouth as she gave it a last thought. This was one of the far and few times in which Tommy proved he had a heart, and that softened her as well.

“If you are worried, you act. If they’re killing her in there, you get her out”

~

The sun had finally shone upon the soldiers after nearly a week of bad weather, when rain and fog had turned the living conditions in the trenches into nearly inhumane. The soldiers were happy, for they would no longer shiver until their bones ached, and they would at last be able to put their clothes and themselves to dry. The tunnellers were less than pleased, for the sun had dried the clay into a solid wall, forcing them to exhaust their muscles to dig out chunks the size of their heads while the sweat ran down their temples and backs. Their comrades kept them supplied with water, but it felt like pouring water on a bottomless bucket. 

Tommy worked side by side with her. Him. Her. Her identity still got tied in his mind, and he had to think through every word addressed in her direction for fear of blowing her cover. He watched her out of the corner of the eye as she swung the pickaxe with a strength and determination he never expected to see in a woman. Despite her resilience, Tommy worried about her, and kept a watchful gaze for any sign of exhaustion. She could not afford to be taken ill or injured, for a trip to the medical tent would be enough to unravel all her carefully crafted lies. He had to take care of her.

They both worked in the very end of the trench, and the sounds around them would conceal any hushed conversation. Tommy’s curiosity was stronger than his willpower

“Why?”

She didn’t react at first, and Tommy thought she either didn’t listen to him, or chose to ignore him, both of which were valid. But before he could ask again, she whispered back, keeping her manly tone

“Why what?”

“Why come here? What sane person would come here, on her own free will, to be forced into coldness and starvation? Risk your life, and for what purpose? Couldn’t find good places to dig back in England?”

She snorted, the sound quite lighter than any man’s laugh, so she concealed it by clearing her throat

“I wanted to serve my country, same as you. Is there any sin on that?”

“Is that what you tell yourself at night to sleep?”

She stopped digging for a moment, leaving the pickaxe embedded in the clay. She sat in the upturned bucket they used as stool, wiping the sweat from her brow with her sleeve. She couldn’t work shirtless, and their uniforms had been made to shield from the cold only. Tommy offered her water; she drank a sip and poured the rest on her head. He noticed her hair had grown again, and curled behind her ears. He made a mental note to give her a trim after nightfall.

“I just wanted to see what it was like. What it really was. They don’t tell us the truth back home. The newspapers make it sound as if the front is almost peaceful and the men are just laying back eating turkey while the Germans fall a hundred a day. I wanted the truth, and I want to write about it. Make a book of all the lies they fed us home.”

Her reasoning didn’t sit well with him. All that effort, that trouble, that risk, just to figure out if war was as bad as she thought? Mad, mad in the head this one.

“And what does your family think you’re doing away from home?”

She scratched her chin, in the same way Tommy did when he got a shaving rash from his blunt razors. She had picked up male mannerisms quite fast, particularly his own

“Not much family left to care what I do or stop doing. I said I’d come to France to volunteer as a nurse, but they most likely think I came as a camp follower. If they knew what I’m up to, they would have me committed to the closest madhouse”

“The madhouse is where you belong” Tommy replied, albeit jokingly, as he stopped his work to pull out a cigarette from his pocket. But he was interrupted by a ball of clay being tossed at his face with masterful precision, dampened for maximum effect.

“Shut up, Sergeant Major”

 ~

Blue skies and a pleasant breeze welcomed them at the gates of Arrow House. Tommy chose to drive this time, taking the advice from the doctor who would oversee her care, who suggested she be exposed to the least amount of people possible during the first days as she adjusted to life outside. Only Tommy, Frances and the nurse who would be her primary caretaker.

She stared at the world around her with such wonder, like a blind whose sight had been restored. Every tree, every bird, the very landscape that surrounded his manor brought such wonder onto her face, like a child with a Christmas tree. Her happiness almost managed to convince him that this was, in fact, a good idea. 

When Polly told him to get her out, he knew she meant to put her in a home of her own, with a caretaker, and allow her to have a life of her own. And Tommy considered the idea, for a while. To place her in a nice neighbourhood, in a house with a garden and a balcony where she could enjoy the sun, with a nurse and maids and a car. But it didn’t sit right with him. She had been alone ever since they took her. Imprisoned until the war ended, and then released only to be taken to the madhouse at first chance. Not one familiar face around her for nearly a decade. No, Tommy wouldn’t take her out of a cage just to put her back in a smaller, prettier one. She needed someone to protect her. And for better or worse, that one could only be Tommy. 

When the car came to a halt, she was the first one out, gaping at the imponent state which Tommy owned. 

“Is this where you live, Sergeant Major?” The wonder was palpable in her voice. But the only thing Tommy noticed was that after everything she still couldn’t find it in her to call him by his name.

“2000 acres of land, of which 12 are just garden, and 750 acres of farming land”

She cocked an eyebrow, and in the amused twinkle of her eyes Tommy saw a glimpse of the one she used to be.

“Are you a farmer now, sir?” She disguised her laugh behind the handkerchief she insisted on carrying, looking down like a bashful schoolgirl.

Tommy pulled out a cigarette; he felt the corner of his lips pulled into the shadow of a smile, pleased to see her spirits lifted.

“My business is more focused on progress and modernity, but I wouldn’t reject the idea. Perhaps one day it’ll come in hand to have crops and cows”

“That would be the bloody day” She didn’t even try to hide her laughter this time “Our mighty Sergeant Major, dressed in overalls and with mud up to his knees shovelling cow shit”

“I find myself more interested in horse shit these days. Come on, I’ll show you around” 

Tommy gave her a complete tour of the house and adjacent grounds, both to show her everything that would be at her complete disposal, and also as a way to show off how far he had come since they were both in the trenches, hunched over a meagre fire lit inside an empty can and sharing a homemade cigarette made from tobacco leftovers. Her eyes were wide with wonder, her fingers running over tapestries, leathers and carved wood with childlike wonder

He saved her room for last. A wide bedroom at the very back of the house, situated in a corner with plenty of windows. It had a view of the back of the state, so she could enjoy the gardens, the horses and the surrounding woods. In the corner with the most sunlight Tommy had placed a writing desk, supplied with paper, pens, ink and a brand new typewriter. Amidst everything sat a bunch of old and worn pages, all of different sizes and materials, kept together nicely with leather cord. She picked it up gingerly, running her thumb over the first page. Even though the paper was stained and dusty, the words could be read as easily as the first day she wrote them.

Tears flooded her eyes, and she hugged the improvised diary to her chest like it was a most prized possession. And perhaps it was. She turned towards Tommy, a mixture of bewilderment and eternal gratitude plastered on her features

“Where did you get it? I thought they would have had it destroyed when they locked me up”

Tommy only smirked, pulling out a cigarette from the golden case he carried “Remember what I told you? Always make sure someone owes you something”

That gesture, so small yet so meaningful, shifted something inside her. Her eyes brimmed with tears she attempted to fight, but they won in the end. She practically jumped into Tommy’s arms, hugging him with the eagerness of a person who has been denied a caring touch for far too long.

“How will I ever be able to thank you enough, Sergeant Major?”

His free arm circled her frame, returning the gesture

“You can start by calling me Tommy”

~

Worry crept up Tommy’s spine as the higher ups did their rounds to inspect the work on the freshly dug trenches. It had been three days since she last showed up, and he would soon run out of lies to cover up for “Private Anders’” absence. 

As much as she tried to deny it, finally the harsh conditions had caught up to her. Her health had gone down a slippery slope with the arrival of winter. First it had been just a fretless dry cough, easily softened with pine tea. But then came the bone pains, the headaches, the constant fatigue. The dampness of her safe haven had seeped into her bones and caused some sort of rheumatism. Tommy noticed the swelling of her hands as they struggled to grip the pickaxe. Her hair began to fall out in clumps.

The shivers and the fever had finally knocked her off her feet. She had been unable to leave her cottage, which in turn worsened her condition even further. Tommy had tried to bring her something more substantial to eat, but she seemed unable to eat more than a few bites of stale bread dipped in some coffee the Americans had given them. Dry, suffocating coughs racked her body until she had to gasp for air, her teeth and lips speckled with blood.

“This is the end line” She had mumbled weakly during the third night, while Tommy tried to desperately convince her to light a fire to warm and dry the place

“No. You are not going to die. I won’t allow it. I told you I’d take care of you” He stated firmly, sitting on the floor by her side with her hand in his, his other one cupping her feverish cheek. He had been in a similar spot, not too long ago. Watching life fade away from a young woman’s eyes. He refused to let her die, not like that, not there where he would have to dump her body in the river.   

“I am not going to die” She stated with a conviction her current condition didn’t match “But to survive, I have to turn myself in”

The idea of handing her over to the war office filled Tommy with panic

“No, no you cannot do that. Do you have any idea what they could do to you? Your best prospect would be to be thrown in jail, to be given 10 years for impersonating a soldier. And that’s if the higher ups are feeling compassionate” He shuddered at thinking what those wolves would do to her “Listen, I get leave tomorrow night. I’ll go to the nearest town, get some medicine, maybe I can pawn some things and get you a new blanket. You-”

“No” With great effort, she propped herself up in one elbow. Tommy couldn’t help but notice the strands of hair left in the pillow “I’ve implicated you long enough. The excuses and lies you have made for me are enough to have you dishonourably discharged and tried. You have done everything you could for me, and for that I am  forever indebted to you, Sergeant Major. This next chapter in my life, I have to write it alone”

She sounded dejected and disappointed, as if she had failed some unwritten expectation of her adventure. But Tommy thought quite the opposite. He only felt admiration for the things she had put herself through in order to tell her story. He still thought she was mad in the head, but in a completely different way

“Will you mention my name when you write your book?” He asked jokingly, helping her lay back down slowly, pulling the ragged blanket up to her chin

“Only if you want to be jailed next to me for helping an intruder” She laughed, but the sound was cut short by another fit of coughing “I’ll dedicate it to you, Sergeant Major. Everything I write and do will be because of you”

~

Tommy awoke with a startle. His eyes were wide open, darting around the room as he tried to locate the source of the disturbance. Everything seemed to be calm in his room. And then it happened again. A dry thud in the wall, followed by a muffled scream.

In a heartbeat he was out of bed, gun in hand. He followed the noises, which seemed to grow louder the closer he got to her bedroom. The door was ajar, allowing a sliver of moonlight to project in the floor, in which Tommy could see two shadows moving.

He stormed inside, gun ready to fire. But he didn’t find an intruder, no. Just her, on her knees, banging her fists against the wall as she screamed. Her nurse stood by her side, amidst a disaster of clothes and books and other objects, unsuccessfully trying to coax her back to bed

“Miss, please. The hour is quite late. You need sleep”

“No, no. The walls are coming down. We have to get out, the roof’s collapsing!” She yelled desperately, clawing at the wall trying to dig herself out of some dark place that only existed in her head. He saw her nails tear the wallpaper with ferocity. And then he noticed the nurse unlocking a cabinet and pulling out a syringe

“No” He said almost immediately as he put a firm hand on the nurse’s arm “Go to bed. I have this”

“But Mr. Shelby!”

“I said go. Leave me with her”

The nurse doubted, holding his gaze, but chose to exit the room, closing the door behind her.

Tommy walked towards her slowly, afraid he would startle her. He gingerly touched her arm, but his presence went as unnoticed as a speck of dust. He called out her name, again and again, without success. The mud had seeped deep in her brain, as it had done his, and blocked her senses from the outside world. In order to get through, Tommy had to get into the mud with her

He stood tall, in martial position, hands behind his back

“Private Anders!”

Quick like a lightning bolt, she stood up and saluted in a firm position. Tears streaked her face and her entire body quivered like an autumn leaf

“Sergeant Major sir!”

“At ease, private. You are relieved of your duties. Time to go back home”

Like the lifting of a spell, her eyes glossed over as she blinked slowly, looking around her from the bed, to the things she had thrown around in haste, and finally towards Tommy. Her lower lip quivered

“What is happening to me?”

Her knees faltered. Tommy lunged forward before she could hit herself, coming down to the floor with her held in his arms. She burrowed herself in his chest, her fingers clinging to his shirt as she wept, her body racked by sobs. Tommy shushed her quietly, his fingers carding through her hair

“Don’t cry. I’ll take care of you”

[anundyingfidelity]

NO SECOND CHANCES — Brother Day/Cleon XVII

Summary: A lonely space traveler happens to save from a certain death the most annoying person of the entire galaxy, the Emperor.

Pairing: Cleon XVII x female reader.

Word count: 8.1k. (oooops).

Warnings: well, spoilers for whole season 2. Language, angst (the reader wants to die, really). Talks about suicide, talks about suicide attempts, reader having nightmares, PTSD, reader is suffering too. Some hurt/comfort, some fluff? Filthy smut (included but not limited to hand jobs, unprotected sex, oral from both parts, dirty language, etc. etc.), and end of the world sex (to Beki's arsehole bitches yay🥂). Also Cleon refers to the reader as "woman" a couple of times lol. Reader has pierced ears? (wait for it). Bittersweet ending tbh.

Notes: just trying to make slow burn in a one shot because I'm a lazy fucker who doesn't like to write stories with chapters, otherwise I don't finish shit. Uh probably OOC Cleon??? I don't know. Fully inspired by my favorite trope ever: saving the bad guy and making him humble. I don't care we're four people watching Foundation, I need to write about this little piece of shit I love him so much. Cleon XVII is a himbo I said it. Not beta, we die like bitches of the Gossamer court.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

Tagging: @curiouswildi hope you like it 🥺💘

GEN MASTERLIST!

I. BEYOND

The last thing wandering his mind was Bel Riose. Fucking Bel Riose. That idiot. They had won over him; over him, who was Empire and still meant to be for years ahead. Next, the cold feeling of space was embracing him. But he felt he was not floating around anymore.

Cleon was tied to a surface. It felt like harsh, uncomfortable metal under his back. He slowly forced his eyes open, moving his limbs and trying to escape whatever it was restraining him to do so. His wrists and ankles, as his waist, were tied by a light blue particle field preventing the patient to move at all. He was met with the roof of a ship and equipment, but it wasn't any Imperial one. In panic, he moved until he was able to shake the surface he was on, panting and grunting, feeling some pain and sting resurging all over him. The headache was becoming unbearable and the sounds coming from his dry mouth finally transformed into screams. The room doors opened and a strange voice catched his attention.

"Finally, you're awake."

Cleon obliged to follow the shadow moving around, his eyes focusing to try and see who was talking. He heard steps and the sounds of metal and glass clinking around, probably looking for medication and tools as he was know fully concius. The figure finally came to view by his side.

"I will inject this, so don't move," you said, grabbing his bicep. Cleon was about to protest, but the needle was faster and the medicine was welcomed on his vurnerable system, easing the pain and calming down the headache. "Welcome back, Eminence," you smirked to him.

"And just so, who are you?" he asked chuckling to himself, licking his lips. "What have you done to me?"

"First, I saved your life and cleaned all your bloody wounds. You should say thanks at least," you sat down dangerously close by his side, on the same surface he was on.

"I did not ask you for mercy."

"Oh, but I did," you replied, a smirk on your lips. "Perhaps I shouldn't have, right?" you took a small pencil-like device in your hand from the pocket of your pants and used it to scan his vital signs. You touched his face carefully with your fingers, examining his eyes, his heartbeat, and any anomaly that might be on his system from head to toe, but the scanner found none. Cleon watched you doing so until he asked again, his voice softer this time.

"Who are you?"

"Just no one as important as you are," you said, saving the scanner back.

"Where are we?" Cleon asked, looking around. He observed he was placed in a small medical bay.

"In space, in the middle of nowhere I suppose," you shrugged, getting on your feet again. "It seems you're recovering quite well and fast. At least that's what my scanner says. So first, I think you should want some water, which I am leaving right here," you put a flask on the small table next to him. "And before I give you this to drink, I want to make sure you will not restrain or fight back at me."

He laughed, that narcissistic smile on his face. You wanted to punch him.

"You're no match for me, woman."

"Really? Then I could just throw you out there again, you know, it's not difficult. I'm spending resources on you, surely I won't oppose to that idea," you snapped back.

His smile faded slowly, thinking. If it wasn't for you, he would be dead by now, it was true. But he was so used to be immortal and undefeteable that the situation was kind of new. He only had been vulnerable and exposed to his doctors in the palace, and you were a complete stranger. And still, you had the heart to take him in your ship and save his life. He sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Fuck, fine. What do you want me to do?"

So this was his way of cooperating, you thought.

"After I turn off the restraints, you will have to sit down on the stretcher. I will help you. Do not try to get up yet, you might feel dizzy."

With a nod he said to you the orders were clear. Next, the restraints disappeared in the air with a push on a button and Cleon felt a small relief. As you promised, you helped him to sit and he realized that the clothes he had before were replaced with a set of new pale grey robes that allowed him to move freely. You offered the flask to his lips, but he watched you with a questioning look on his face.

"Is only water, I swear. See?" you had a small sip from the bottle and he looked more at ease after you swallowed the liquid.

You offered the bottle again and helped him to slowly drink. Once he was done, you placed a small tray with fruits and dry seeds on top of the same table beside the stretcher.

"You might want to eat something," you said, breaking the silence under his fixed gaze. Even when he was sitting down and you on your feet it felt rather intimidating. "I'm still collecting supplies and food. You were certainly not part of the plan these days."

"So you travel alone," Cleon said, taking a small red fruit between his fingers and began to eat it.

"I do," you nodded. "Sorry if the taste of the fruit is not pleasant."

"You're doing your best," he said while eating, studying the room around him. You were not sure if he was mocking you or not. "What was your name again?"

You chuckled. "You're very interesting, Empire. Why don't you finish eating and rest before taking a bath?"

The next few hours, you left him to rest and escorted him to your quaters, the only place with a comfortable bed, so he could get proper sleep. Since there were no further questions from him, you got to your business and requested more provisions to the merchants. Traveling alone had made you some contacts and traders, from time to time you would request for food giving in exchange money or rare knick knacks, and within a day you had a small capsule with supplements heading to your coordinates with everything you needed. You just had to wait for now.

After checking the estate of your ship and confirming everything was working correctly, you went back to your quaters to see how the Emperor was doing. You were startled to see him sitting on your bed with a book between his hands. He looked like he just had a bath because his shirt was gone and his hair was wet, some droplets running down his skin. Quickly, you studied him. He was handsome, muscular, his skin had a beautiful tan, and he was tall and heavy as hell, something you noticed when cleaning his wounds and taking him inside your ship. The earring on his left ear was also interesting, you thought, for a member of the most important dinasty of the galaxy. Very rebellious for the emperor.

You also knew he heard you steping in but never looked up from the book because he was the first one to talk.

"Never I could imagine you would have books in here," he said, clearly interested on the pages.

"Yeah, not all of us are barbarians as you work so hard to convice yourself we are."

He chuckled to himself, looking at you for the first time since you entered the room.

"Are you from Korell?"

"The book gave it away, didn't it."

"This is very old," he said, closing the book. "You are for sure not allowed to have this in Korell."

"That is one of the reasons I left," you replied, looking around the place. It was obvious to you that he was pearing within your personal stuff because the old myth book was secured down your mattress. At least he didn't leave a mess and everything seemed in the right place. "I was a threat in my planet so Argo kept looking for me for some conspiracy shit and terrorism when all I did was oppose myself to his repression and freakshow," you continued, his eyes drew back to you. "They wanted me dead in Korell, but I am the only one to decide that, even when and where will it happen."

Cleon shifted on his seat, wondering why you were sharing a piece of your life to him when he didn't even know your name yet. Words and thoughts wandered his head on how would he answer to your words, compassion or empathy sometimes were difficult things to feel. But before he was able to speak, you interrupted his thoughts.

"I will leave you alone to rest for a while and will come back when it's around supper. I follow Kornell cycle of time, so you know... Just don't poke around my underwear, Empire," you dragged his title mockingly.

He laughed softly, going back to his reading.

"Thank you for the idea."

That was the first time you would hear him expressing gratitude.

II. GHOSTS FROM THE PAST

Around more than a week passed, and Cleon was healing and his wounds were not so visible now. You made sure to inject him every day and gave your quaters and bed for him to sleep and recover. He had took a pad you had in the room so he could count the cycle of days in Trantor. Hardly to admit, he found himself missing home rather than hatred. Sometimes the rage mixed with sorrow, but he forced himself to try and understand that it was a normal feeling due to the sudden lose of everything he once had.

Cleon had been up from some time now as he counted the end of the eighth day on the pad, and wondered why your daily visit was taking so long. It was a habit you had, to come in and wake him up with the medicine, and after it was done, you would tell him to eat some of the fruits and food on the tray you brought for him. He got on his feet and put a shirt on before leaving the room to search for you. On the pilot cabin, you had an improvised, small stickable mattress on the wall that had saved your life before, so you used it to sleep and rest the past few days while he cured. Cleon observed your figure lying down on the mattress, walking slowly and sensing something was not right. He found you shaking and trembling, eyes still closed and chest heavily breathing as your hand held onto dear life what he realised it was a gun.

He felt somehow frightened and confused. If you wanted to kill him, you would already have done it. You had made yourself clear on that. The tremor of your body seemed it was increasing and Cleon, with a gentless he did not know he possesed, tried to soothe you with his voice, removing the gun from your embrace.

"Shh... everything is fine," he mumbled, not sure of his words, his other hand touching your shoulder in soft circles. He was able to withdraw the gun from your hands and placed it on the floating shelf near by.

Your eyes squeezed and some tears flowed down your face as you sobbed still in your sleep. Cleon hesitated on what to do next to wake you up. He leaned again, his hand slowly tracing the skin of your arm, like he did when his brother Dawn was a child.

"Woman? Wake up," he whispered, shaking you a little bit and pating your arm softly, and when he talked again, his voice was a little bit louder. "You're having a nightmare, wake up."

And as he repeated his words over and over, your eyes opened wide, feeling your lungs able to breath again. But your senses still were coming to awareness, and automatically you slapped the face of whoever it was touching your arm. You heard him groan in pain and you rolled over the mattres, until you hit the floor, taking out a small blade from below the makeshift pillow of fabrics you used. The blade pointing at him as you looked around the cabin to find out it was only both of you.

"What- are you okay?!" Cleon questioned with a frown, rubbing his hurting cheek as he remained on the other side of your bed, the only thing separating you from him was the mattress.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine!"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Of course you are not."

"Then why the fuck would you ask that?! It's obvious I'm not fine!" you yelled. Your body was tense and ready to attack. You felt a knot on your throat, like if you were to cry again. Silence envolved you, trying to calm down. That inner voice in your head began saying it was just a dream, and you wanted to believe it. It was all in your head. It was not real...

"Do you want to kill me?" Cleon's gloomy voice echoed.

"What? No! I would never-"

"Then why are you sleeping with a damn blaster shot and a blade on your bed?!" he confronted, screaming at you, but not daring to move as you also remained standing in the same place.

"Because I wanted to kill myself!" you yelled back, pointing the sharp of the knife to you instead. His face became stern and you realised what you had said, and what was happening. Ashamed, you threw the blade back under the pillow. "Sorry, I don't want you to know that. Forget it."

You wiped the tears on your face under his piercing and concerning eyes. You forced your head to compose and burry your nightmares and memories deep inside before talking.

"I have to inject you," you said and walked back to the room, sure he would follow behind. Once you crossed the doors, you prepared the needle but Cleon remained standing near the exit of your room the whole time, arms crossed over his chest, observing you with utter worry on his face. Why? He really did not know. Probably because you were the only human and intelligent contact he had for days now, and you had the decency to keep him alive. Though he was not going to let that in his head - yet.

"Why don't you seat?" you most likely ordered. Cleon slowly made his way to you and remained standing, tall and kind of threatening. He was Emperor, after all.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked with a careful tone.

"Nothing, Empire. Just sit," you said, coldly, waiting for him to do as you requested.

"No, I need to know," he demanded, coming closer to you, jaw clenching. Anger started taking over your being and held his gaze as you replied.

"I have the right to decide whether or not speak about my personal life, I am not one of your subjects, so sit the fuck down so I can give you the last dosis of this shit."

"I need to know if I can fucking trust you after what I just heard coming from your mouth," his voice boomed around the place.

"You really want to know?! Fine, back in Korell I lost my family, my brother, my parents, my home - everything I had they took it from me! I was the last one alive and I escaped after they killed my brother in front of me and that day is still haunting me," you muttered and felt the tears forming on your eyes, but this time, of rage. "So if it concerns your own well being, like it always has been, no, I will not kill you. But you are no Emperor here, so stop that game. Some of us never gave a fuck about you or the Empire, or the Foundation and Hari Seldon, or the Church of the Galactic Spirit -I don't care! I'm tired, I just want to be free and live peacefully!"

You had not noticed you stepped closer to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body. His face was blank, as if he had been slapped again, but this time to reality. A reality he was not familiar with on his own bubble.

Quickly you grabbed his bicep and injected the dosis with him standing up. He whined in surprise. It was fast. So fast that you just removed the needle from his flesh and left the room.

III. WHAT YOU REALLY KNOW

According to the Trantor cycle, evening should be now. When you left him alone in the room, Cleon spent the next hours by himself, and since he watched you looking up for garments and food around the ship before, he made sure to get those without speaking to you. Not that you wanted to talk either. He noticed you sitting on the main pilot seat, looking at the stars and the void through the glass the whole day. He got concerned for a moment, but decided to let you be as he, also, understood that some time alone was necessary.

However, Cleon thought to talk to you finally and say something. Anything to get you back to reality and forget your bad dreams. So he found himself making his way to sit on the other chair of the ship. He prepared the words to say inside his head, but it was more difficult to speak out loud.

"I think I owe you an apology," he finally said, taking in the view of space. You nodded slowly your head. Nobody turned to see each other.

"It's nothing. But apology accepted I guess."

"It's not nothing. I rarely thought about what other citizens and planets are going through... I'm so sorry it happened to you."

"I would like to say that was not your fault, but since the Empire withdrawal from Korell, living there definitely became so much worse," you confessed, very aware of the genetic dinasty and some of the things previous emperors did, which did not change much. They were the same man after all. Cloning again and again...

"Probably should apologise for that as well," he said.

"Yeah, it's too late, but thank you."

Cleon could still sense a feeling of resentment in your voice. He thought you were right to feel that way, but he was also going to try and make you understand him.

"I never had a mother, or a father, and my brothers are the same man as me, so it's hard to understand that some people lose their family and loved ones. I was born with that loss already... That's why I wanted to end the genetic dinasty."

"You are the eighteenth?" you asked, not knowing exactly why he was opening to you.

"The seventeenth."

"That's a lot of you though. Do you remember anything from the past?"

"I do not. But our memories are always saved. Everything that happens in Trantor is recorded and kept as data. If I want to know something about a previous Cleon, I would just request it."

You turned your gaze to finally see him, he looked in awe with space as he spoke.

"So what was your motive to destroy a planet?"

He turned his eyes to you. "I believe you didn't care about Empire or the Foundation."

"That doesn't mean I want to see a genocide, your Eminence."

Cleon stirred on his seat, with a strange feeling of guilt, sadness and regret. For some reason, the title falling off your lips made everything worse.

"You saw it," he said. "How? You're no part of the Foundation, at least you're lying to me."

"No, I am not! I did a stupid space jump without course and I ended here, unfortunately." You were growing tired of the conversation. "I don't know why we keep talking. We're both shitty people anyway."

Cleon chuckled, not to mock you, but because of the whole situation you were in together.

"I know you are. Brave enough to kill yourself, taking another life is nothing compared to your own."

You locked your gaze with his, thinking if he was he judging you or flattering you.

"And have you, like, tried to end with your life at some point? You must feel lonely, under the shadow of a clone, not allowing you to be, well, you."

He let out a deep breath, avoiding your eyes.

"I have not, but my genes are already compromised and adultered. No surprise if any of us dared to commit suicide before," he replied, looking to the void. "In any case, if something out of the ordinary is to happen to my brothers or myself, we have another clone with our same memories, same age, everything; prepared to be woken up and take our place. Like if we never existed."

"That's fucked up," you scoffed. "We are never trully free, are we."

You got on your feet to look up for something to eat and forget your small talk. You knew he had searched for fruits and dry food because you heard him moving around and then leaving a couple of times, but you had nothing through the whole day. Cleon followed your steps, leaving enough space between you both as you took a couple of apples, giving one to him.

"The jump, how did you do that?" he asked, taking a bite of the fruit. "You don't have spacers."

"The rebels are smart people. A lot of members of the Foundation replicated your technology."

"I thought you were not involved with them," he insisted.

"I am not, but I would never deny any help. That my support doesn't rely on them doesn't mean I will let a chance slide."

"You're not answering my question."

You pulled the sleeve of your shirt up to show your bare wrist to him. There was the same device Hober Mallow and the Clerics had, inserted on your skin.

"I use this.”

"This is a whisper ship," he mumbled.

"Smart. Yes, sort of."

Cleon scoffed. "So that means we can land somewhere."

"About that, uh, we can't."

He moved to throw the remainings of his fruit with a confused look. "Why?"

He heard your sigh as you covered your wrist again, looking away from his deep eyes.

"I- I threw myself to space because I wanted to kill myself," you started, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't care how long would take me, I just wanted to blow up my ship. Just end everything. But then I saw you, floating, dying... and for some reason I couldn't let you die. I didn't know who you were but I saved you. There's no energy or fuel to make another jump. I don't have that. We are far from what Terminus was now. From any planet, form of life or civilization... plus you are unarmed. You still are weak and anyone could kill you," you finished, and waiting for some reason that he could forgive you for giving him any sort of hope. "I'm sorry, Empire."

Beyond madness, Cleon felt you were worried for him. Not the kind of sentiment his brothers or palace workers would do, but a real one. Because you knew saving him was condemn him to death anyway. But this felt much better than dying alone. He had sins, past despiteful decisions and ghosts hunting him, as so were you. You just addressed your feelings and your life together in less than a day. And you were right, none of you were never trully free, but as crazy as it might be, being lost in space with you felt like freedom to him. Finally, he was far away from everything that was keeping chained to a life and responsibilities he never asked for, living under the shadow of an egotistical emperor.

There was a strong impulse growing inside him and before his rational voice began to scream it was a bad idea to continue, he had cupped your cheeks between his hands and his lips pressing hungrily against yours. You whined, surprised of the warm feeling of his mouth, his tongue hurriedly asking for permission to taste you. When oxygen was not enough you pulled away, shocked and panting. You barely noticed your hand around his forearm, recovering yourself from the best kiss you had in some time.

"Cleon," he whispered, kissing your lips one more time.

"What?"

"Just call me Cleon. I'm not Empire anymore."

You kissed him in response with the same eagerness he had before, heart beating strongly in your chest. His hands caressed every inch of your body, from your neck, breasts, your hips, your soft thighs, your ass... he touched you with desperate fire while you moaned against his mouth, liking where was this leading you, more than you wanted to admit.

That was the first time you gave in to him completely.

IV. TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED

You moaned against his lips, those that forcefuly broke the heated kiss you shared as he ruts into you desperately to reach his own climax. His flesh hitting against yours made an obscene harmony that echoed the confines the ship, far from civil and coherent noises fell from his lips as he sucked into the skin of your neck.

"Fuck, yes, right there," a broken whimper escaped your throat, your nails scratching his back, your walls clenching around his cock. "Cleon..."

The sound of his name being moaned by your sweet, raspy voice, caused him to slow down his thrusts just a bit.

"I still don't know your name," he whispered, bitting your bottom lip only to kiss you wet again.

"And yet you're fucking me, isn't that enough?" you teased, rolling your hips to meet his own.

He gave you a smirk, that fucking handsome smirk you hated so much. He took you with his strong arms, flipping you around so he was now on his back and you got control on top of him. You sinked down his dick setting a reckless rhythm, his thrusts matching yours every time you went down, his grip hard on your waist, marking and bruising your skin. One of his hands massaged your bouncing breasts, one after the other, pinching and then, you felt his mouth biting your nipples and chest, as he leaned your body to him for easy access, with slow grunts and groans that didn't sound human anymore.

His cock repeatedly hit that sweet spot from the position you were taking him, increasing the tension inside you. The sensation of his hands coming back to your sides and making its way to your ass cheeks to guide your bouncing hips became too much so soon. You cried as you felt drunk and high, muscles tense as you finally came. Cleon held you tight, fucking into you as you reached sweet release. His tongue traveled down your collarbone and breasts.

"Cleon," you moaned, your hands on his chest to support your body better. You felt him twitch inside you, knowing he was dangerously close too. Quickly, you slid off him, taking his girth, slick with your own wetness, between your hand you pumped him hard, easing his own release. His seed coated your palm, sprinkling on his abdomen.

"Shit, you're great," he praised, voice dark from lust. His fingers tangled into your hair, his forehead against yours as you recovered from the intense sex session you had for the second time that day. He kissed you sweetly, like a sweetness he only had discovered in the short time with you. "I wish I could know your name."

"You can call me your savior," you gave him a playful smile.

After a shared lazy kiss, you got on your feet, legs still shaking, and left the bed to clean yourself in the small place you called bathroom right next to the only room of the ship. Once finished, you threw the cloth away, and looked directly the mirror, or poor attempt of it. In the damp glass, you watched Cleon appear to embrace your body against his, your back touching his chest muscles and his hands roamed your abdomen while he left butterfly kisses on your shoulder. His big arms around you, pressing your figure to his own, huge in comparison entrusting protection.

The nineteenth day it was, and you spent it exploring your pleassures, talking nonsense and overall for Cleon, thinking he might love you. The confinement had flourished different kinds of feelings and sentiments inside his heart. He finally learned to feel something else besides hatred, power, or selfishness. The more you spoke to him, the more he grew to like you. You were far from perfect and so was he, and the way you opened your heart to him - the man who was to wed a powerful queen, govern thrillions of people around the galaxy and kill a few others - caused him to feel unworthy of anything coming from you. The man he grew up to be slowly disappeared as long as you had him under your light and spirit; his old self was fading away. And it scared him, but excited him at the same time. Even when he was very aware you were near the end together, he had nothing to ask for but to perish with you.

"What's in your head?" you whispered.

Cleon had no longer been tasting the skin of your neck, his chin pressed on your shoulder instead with his mind running a million thoughts by now. He took a glance at the damp and dirty mirror of how perfect you looked, bare and exposed in body and soul, only for his eyes to witness the true beauty of being alive. Of being human.

"You."

A loving smile curled up on your lips, looking directly into his enamoured gaze through the mirror. He decided he wanted to remember you like this in the afterlife.

You finished marking the last spot with an 'x', a wide grin over your face.

"I won."

"Yet again," Cleon chuckled. His laugh had grew sincere with you as he settled on the floor on the cold floor of the pilot cabin, just giving enough space for the board between you and him. "And what is your question, person-I-not-know-the-name-of?"

You just had finished playing another round of a silly game. It was an old Terran game, and you were surprised it made it this far across the galaxy. It was good to pass the time though. It kept you and Cleon thinking about other things besides dying. The fuel and energy, along with the water, were lowering on their levels. Food on the other hand was not a worry, you knew you could request to the traders as long as energy was functioning to make communication with them. However, the energy of your ship had to be loaded in land, just like fuel. And you had no place to go now to do that.

Being together as long as you had the resources was the main goal now. So many things crossed your mind as you talked about everything and nothing at the same time the past days.

"Have you ever been in love?" you asked after some time thinking.

You thought maybe it was the first time in Cleon's life that he was finally able to think and behave on his own, with no burdens about a dinasty to protect or pleasing his council.

He was taken by surprise as you spoke. He immediately remembered Demerzel, his loyal advisor. His relationship was merely sexual, but there were no feelings that would assimilate to what love is in reality. For sure, his own clone should have been woken up by now with no further consequences. For Cleon, it felt like he was actually erased from existence forever. He was disposable, just like his brothers. But thinking about your question, his answer was no. He never knew what love was. Not from Demerzel, certainly not from Dusk, Dawn was slightly different though, he did love Dawn but not the way you were referring to. He never knew the love from a mother or a father, nor family. Sareth hated him, so even if they got to marry he knew there would be no space for such sentiment. His own future children with the Queen of Cloud Dominion would have grown up without an essential part of being human.

"No," Cleon finally gave an answer, his gaze went soft as he realised what you just became to him in a matter of days. "However I sense something different when I am with you. And I don't recall to know what that is."

You smiled. "Isolation tends to create adjustments in those who suffer it."

"And have you?" Cleon asked back. "Have you ever felt it before?"

"I did... With my parents, my brother, my best friends, and a couple of assholes who broke my heart."

He chuckled, admiring the charm you had to brush off the hardships in your life. You smiled back at him. Gods you loved seeing him like this, like if he was happy and nothing had happened.

"And how is it?" he said.

"It's affection, it's addictive, not everyone can escape from it. You feel like you belong somewhere, that your life is strangely complete," you mumbled, locking your gaze with his own. "And it hurts a lot. But as you go through that path, you get to know the most beautiful kind of pain."

"Does it hurt now?"

You swallowed hard, that familiar knot on your throat. You were not expecting to feel this way. Not for the Emperor, not for the clone, not for Cleon. Yet one does not control love. You don't decide to love someone without a reason. And what else could two lost souls do in the middle of the galaxy with no purpose but to wait and die? You had opened your deepest fears and secrets to him, not expecting Cleon doing exactly the same. He trusted you and you trusted him. You slept in the same bed, ate the same food and fruits, fucked like animals everyday and yet there was an emotional connection in between you thought would never know again after so many years. How could you not fall for him when everything was crumbling? Finally, you nodded your head, feeling the tears burning in your eyes.

"I always have been alone, Cleon, but my soul seems to have a little love to give. In the end, love is what makes us human."

Cleon put the board of the game away and leaned closer to you, his hand caressed your cheek, cleaning the tears falling down your face as he pressed his forehead with yours. He kissed you softly, swallowing your pain, as a way to say he was hurting too.

V. VOYAGE

It was the thirtieth day on the ship.

Your last try to get and land in any planet failed. As much as Cleon told you to stop, that everything was fine, you felt you had to keep trying until your last day. But the ship was basically to zero fuel and soon energy will follow. You used the control panel of the ship, hopefuly to find a near by land, but luck was not on your side. There was nothing. You don't know exactly how many miles you traveled with no course for a month. It was getting beyond bearing.

Frustrated, you pulled away the holo of the map and the calculations you did in the air, throwing a lose screw of your seat directly to the glass. It did nothing, but you were starting to hate the view of the stars and nothingness sorrounding.

"I told you to stop that," you listened to Cleon, who seemed just arrived to the pilot cabin.

"I had to try," you stood up, walking towards him. Your arms embraced his waist and he took you in with the same warmth.

"You're worried."

"I am not," you whined. "I should have sent for help with the merchants."

Cleon broke your hug and cupped your face between his hands, leaning closer to you.

"No, we should end this now," he whispered, his brows furrowed.

"No!"

"Why not? You wanted to do it even before you found me."

"Because now ending me is ending you too!"

Cleon felt your pain, but there was no other option to make than to blow up the ship anyway. Even if you were to land somewhere, what was for him? You were not able to go back home, and Cleon was discarded at this point. The throne could not have two of the same in the middle. Hiding and running away sounded like a good choice, but still, where? There was nothing left, but he found comfort with you.

"I am okay with this," he said. "I told you. You have to do it."

"Cleon-" you plea was cut by his voice.

"How much time do we have?"

"I don't know, a couple of days at last."

"Then do it. You said you were to decide when and how you would die, this is the time," he remembered with a stern voice. "Take it."

You let out a shaky breath and pushed him to press your lips to his own, like saying goodbye. But you still would not accept this fate. Not like this. You kissed him with hunger and need, your tongues tangled up as your mouths danced together.

"I just have- I can't yet," you mumbled once the kiss was over, leaving you both seeking for air. "Can we just fuck each others brains again and pretend none of this happened for a moment?" you asked against his lips, your hand now on his cheek, caressing the stubble on his face. You always remembered to help him shave and that was one of the most normal things you had to do since you found yourself confined with him. The most casual and mundane things to do became

He nodded. "Yes, my love.”

Cleon kissed your lips with the same hunger and desire, his hands caressing every inch of you until he lifted you up, your legs quickly went around his waist. With eyes closed, you let him guide you to the bar fixed against the wall of your ship.

He made sure to throw everything that was on the surface to the ground to place you in there. Once you were sitting, he pulled your legs apart to stand in the middle of them, and full with lust, his lips and teeth marked your neck and collarbone. You moaned sweetly, palming his groin still covered with the fabric of his pants. He traveled down your breasts, kissing over your shirt until he took it off. He was lucky you decided not to wear bra anymore. He sucked on your tits and nipples, grinding his hips against your hand.

You tried to pull his pants away, but he finished the job first, pulling away from your chest. After his pants were discarded, his shirt followed. He also got used to no underwear so he stood exposed all for you. A true god he was, looking perfect and like if every inch of his body was created for you to worship completely.

Cleon hurried in getting you out of your clothes, and in minutes you were naked and feeling his tongue dancing on your belly. His fingers and massive hands teasing your thighs, avoiding the place where you needed them the most. You moaned when he finally used a single digit to rub your slit, collecting your wetness. He rubbed your clit, mouth going slow and dangerously close to your pussy.

You laid your back on the bar and Cleon grabbed your thighs to have you exactly at the edge of the surface, ready to eat from your heat.

"Cleon," you cried out his name, your fingers tangled on his hair as his tongue licked your most sensitive parts.

He kept your hips in place, fucking you with his tongue and licking your folds, going to your clit. You couldn't help but whimper and moan, removing his hair to see just how much he yearned your cunt.

You tried to roll your hips but his grip was too strong. He looked up to lock his dark gaze with you, his humming creating strong vibrations down your core. He played some more, using a finger to tease your entrance. You were about to cum just by watching him.

"Cleon, please-" you gasped when he inserted a finger inside you, thrusting slowly. "Please, I want to taste you too."

He stopped, looking your flushed face for a moment. Your eyes were begging to suck him right now. He released your pussy with an obscene sound, pulling his tongue and hand away, but your wetness still shined on him. You got on the ground with his help and started to kneel down, kissing his skin, from his chest and then abdomen, licking and biting to leave your marks on his sculptured muscles. You made sure to adore and suck the skin of his navel, knowing he was insecure with not having a belly button. Still without it, he was more human than he could ever get to accept because you have seen that on him.

Cleon grunted once your hand wrapped around him, his hand on your scalp. You gave him a far from innocent look from your position before licking the head, rolling your tongue around it, lubing it with your saliva. His desperate groans led you to wrap your lips around him, pumping with your hand what you couldn't reach with your throat yet. You had to learn he was big for you, so a little of warm up for your mouth was a good start.

He cursed under his breath, thrusting his hips a little to go further, slowly, and you welcomed his cock with a small gag once he reached the back of your throat. He moaned darkly, your rubbed your thighs together when he started to fuck your mouth. Both his hands taking the sides of your head as you choked and gagged around his lenght. You felt him throbbing but he quickly pulled out, and left you empty and with drool falling from your lips, your pussy now aching and clenching around nothing.

"So beautiful," he purred, the touch on your scalp soft now. "But I want to finish inside you."

You nodded, obedient. Cleon helped you to sit down on the bar again, he stayed between your legs, spreading them wide, you held onto him, arms around his neck. He entered slowly, the warmth of your walls swallowing his cock, inch by inch, until it disappeared completely inside your dripping cunt.

You shivered, broken moans falling from your lips. Cleon muffled your low cries with kisses, waiting for you to get used to him.

"Fuck me, Cleon," you mumbled against his swollen lips.

He complied happily, thrusting and pounding into your heat, with a frenetic and brutal pace you had learn to love. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, yor nails scratching his arms and back. His cock touched all the right places inside you and he whispered sweet nothings into your skin, fucking you right under the light of the stars and the void of space.

He moaned along with you, wishing heaven or whatever it was after felt exactly like this. Like you, with your arms around him, your sweet voice calling his name lovingly and whimpering for more, giving your soul to him and only him. Your walls started to clench and his hips stuttered, aproaching a craving release. But in between, he heard a word against his ear you never mumbled before, turning his lustful eyes to you and slowing down his thrusts.

You repeated it again, he was visibly confused but kept ruting into you.

"My name," you said, fingers now caressing his hair.

He smiled. He knew it now. The stranger who saved him had a name after all. Cleon kissed you fiercely, repeating your name again and again between wet kisses. You were close to release, feeling one of his digits rubbing your clit as you moaned together. The wave of electricity took your body first, clenching your pussy around his cock. Cleon followed soon after, rhythm slow and tense muscles, until he spilled inside you, coating your sensitive cunt with his seed.

Catching your breath, you remained together. He sucked on your neck softly, your name was the only thought inside his mind. And as much as you loved his touch on you, you remembered there was something to do still.

"Cleon," you called, getting his attention and feeling he was pulling out of you with a low groan. He looked at you with loving eyes and you smiled. You brushed his hair with your fingers pulling him to yet another smooth kiss. "It's time."

He knew it was. In silence his fingers found his earring, twitsting it and pulling it apart. He took it from his ear and placed it on yours carefully. You were always amazed at his touch, how rough and yet soft and gentle he could be.

"So you can remember me," he smiled when he was over. You let out a laugh and curved your llps in a grin. "It suits you."

"Thanks, Cleon."

Cleon leaned down to kiss you one more time before cleaning both of you. You dressed together as if you were not about to meet finally death. For some reason, you saved everything that was not on their cabinets or initial positions, packing all you could, like if you could take those belongings with you, most of which were from your family. One day Cleon asked why you had clothes that could meet his height, being taller than a lot of people around. You told him it was from your best friend. You thought every piece of clothes or souvenirs would help someday, but it never crossed your mind that it was going to be this way.

When everything was was done, you and Cleon settled in front of the control panel, however, before you could start the holo, a loud explosion could be heard. You frowned, turning to Cleon.

"Did you-? Ah!"

The ship almost overturned as something heavy hit the side, making you trip and fall over with Cleon on the ground. Again, an explosion was heard, far from the ship but clear enough to say it was getting closer, and seconds later, the ship got hit but this time on the glass, almost breaking it over. Quickly, you both stood up and saw what was happening.

"A black hole..."

"Look, there are debris around," you pointed a huge piece that looked the size of your ship, but that definitely was part of a much bigger one. You saw the debris and metal being swallowed and destroyed by the black hole. It wasn't pacing fast, but wasn't slow either. It looked like it was talking its time for much bigger things to eat, such as your ship. Cleon called you, taking your hands and pressing his forehead to yours. You could feel he was shaking, and your skin grew cold. You realised it was really happening now.

"Do it," he said. "Destroy the ship."

After a moment of hesitation, you gave a nod. He kissed you deeply again. You turned the holo to activate the ship and program its own destruction.

"Self-destruction mechanism activated," the computer confirmed.

"We have sixty seconds," you mumbled, tears already forming in your eyes. He cut you off with a kiss. You would miss those warm lips on yours.

"That's enough for me," he said. You smiled and he did the same.

"I love you, Cleon," you embraced his body with a hug. "I am happy I met this kind of pain with you."

He cupped your cheeks, pecking your lips, smiling down at you, saying I love you too. You, the one who saved him and gave him a second chance. Or at least a moment of relief. A place and a person who allowed him to be himself and find things he never knew would have.

"We have more in common now," he whispered. "We are both alone and hurting somewhere in the galaxy.”

[xiakato]

Interview With The Pop-star - KARINA

“Giselle has great taste in her toys,” She crosses her arms, a smirk plastered on her beautiful face, “always the best.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Karina,” You sat across from her, your own skin became milky over the weeks as you adjusted to your new lifestyle. 

“So proper,” She giggles, leaning forward giving a good view of her cleavage, “She told me how good you are, made me even want to give you a ride.” 

“I’m honored but we have things to do before I would even consider that,” You place down the recorder, “Now, Karina, let’s start with the interview.” 

“Are you going to ask the same boring questions you asked Giselle because if you are, I’m leaving.”

“Who’s your favorite prey?” You watch as a sadistic smile crawls on her beautiful face, her fangs slightly grazing her lip. 

“Male Idols, so easy to entertain, so easy to drain them of the tasty blood coursing through their veins. They usually are the sweetest, besides children but I don’t go for them. I have morals unlike that crazy one that runs that orphanage.” 

“Who runs the orphanage?”

“Oh sure that you will meet that beauty soon, truly sad she’s a bit crazy. Well more than a bit crazy.” 

“I see, tell me about your turning,” You watch as her carefree attitude shifts, the air is tense. 

“It’s nothing special,” She shifts in her seat, appearing to be uncomfortable under your sharp gaze. You study her body language, the picking at her nails that only started when you asked her. 

“If it isn’t anything special.. Why won’t you tell me?” 

“I’m sure Giselle already told you, after all she’s the one that turned me,” Karina’s eyes shift from side to side, avoiding yours. 

“She hasn’t told me anything, so tell me,” Your eyes slightly glow under the low light, something you learned that you had to influence other vampires. That whoever gave birth to the heinous thing you’ve become deemed worthy to control over those unworthy. She stops shifting in her seat, staring into your eyes like a deer in headlights.

“H-how do you have the power of an Elder?” 

“It seems that I’m a favorite,” You simply smile, “Now tell me.” 

“It’s not so simple as being a favorite Y/n,” She looks worried, worried for you? Not in the slightest, worried for yourself. She only ran into Elders, a handful of times during her years lurking in the night. The terror, the fear she felt in her veins, as their eyes stared down at her like she’s the lowest form of life, “How Y/n?” 

“You certainly like to throw my name around,” The glow gets brighter and her attitude dims. 

“Sorry, sir,” Her voice was a fraction of what it was at the start of the interview, “To answer your question. It was winter of 1758, it was the Joseon period under the rule of King Yeongjo. I was working hard, taking any job I could get even if I had to sell myself to politicians. Earning money for my little brother. You see, he was sick so I tried my best to earn enough for his medicine,” She looks up at you, you simply nod along, listening to her, hanging onto every word that comes from her. She sits on her hand to stop picking at her nails, “Until one night, I met her, Giselle, her skin as white as the falling snow. She said that she could cure my brother, of course for a cost. She turned him into a vampire and gave him to her, the one that runs the orphanage. She turned me to one as well, so she could have someone to hate her as much as she hates herself.” 

“Have you seen your brother since then?” 

She nods, “He works for the crazy one, as her butler of sorts.”  

“At least you’ve seen him,” You smile at her, watching her cheeks turn slightly red. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure Jimin,” You turn off the recorder, placing it in your pocket. 

“Why do you have the power of the Elders?” 

“I don’t know, it was something that I figured out I could do, Giselle seems to know something but of course you know her never saying anything.” 

“You’re going to have to be careful, vampires like you come around before. They were killed quickly as they threatened the hierarchy.” 

“Of course I will be, thank you for the warning Jimin,” You pat her head as you walk towards the door. She grips on your sleeve. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something Sir?” She asks looking up at you, her shining brown eyes clouded with the vampiric lust you’ve grown accustomed to. 

“What might that be?” you ask even though you knew the answer, you wanted to hear her say, beg for it. 

“Fuck me,” her voice dripping with lust, as she pulls you towards the bedroom. Her skirt finds itself on the floor within a few seconds. She soon joins it, kneeling down in front of you stroking you through your trousers. Her eyes half lidded, you feel her hot breath as she kisses your shaft as she unbuckles your belt. Pulling them down, she smiles as she comes face to face with your cock, “I’ve been wanting this so badly,” She peppers kisses down your shaft, “So big and thick,” She licks back up to your tip. Her soft hand slowly stroking as she watches you, “I need this in me.” 

“I don’t know if you do Jimin,” You smirk as you watch her perfect lips pout, her hands still stroking. 

“Just call me how you want to, don’t hold back sir,” She slaps her cheek with your cock, “Call me a slut, call me whatever you want Sir, make me your toy please I need you to.” 

You can’t help but smile down at her, your eyes glowing bright red, “Suck it,” You command her, she smiles brightly yet shakes her head, “Suck it, little slut,” She takes you into her mouth, her spit dripping out as she opens her mouth, her tongue swirling around your tip. Her eyes close as she takes in your taste, her moans as she takes in deeper and deeper into her mouth and throat. You watch as she masterfully takes care of you, leaving no inch of your cock left untouched. Her eyes open as she takes you fully down her throat, no gag reflex as she stares up at you. She smiles as she pulls your cock out. 

“How’s that Sir?” She asks as she kisses your tip repeatedly. You pull her up to her feet by her hair tossing her onto the bed. Her giggles fill the room, her excitement shown as she lifts her ass in the air for you. Looking back at you, you can see the expectation in her eyes, “Please Sir, fuck me please!” 

Her pussy glistening in the light, waiting for you to stretch her. Your cock slips in with ease, you watch as she grips onto the sheets. Her moans fill the room as you get your rhythm, “Fuck,” You mutter under your breath, gripping onto her ponytail. 

“G-give it to me Sir, Please I want you to break me please~” She pleads, you piston into her watching her ass bounce as you fuck her. 

“What a dirty slut,” You scowl as you pull harder on her ponytail, making sure she feels every inch. 

“Only for y-y-y-you, I’m your slut,” Her arms give out, you hold her upper body up by her ponytail, as you feel her body start to shake, her pussy tightens as she squirts all over the sheets and the floor.

You let go of the ponytail, taking in the sight under you. One of the most sought after idols in the industry, underneath you shaking like a used slut. You slowly thrust into her as she comes down from her climax.

“F-f-fuck,” She manages to get out as she looks at you from the side of her eye,”Give me that cum Sir, please fill me to the brim.”  

Not one to leave a request unfulfilled, you start to piston her into the bed, her pussy tightens around your shaft.  She takes you dare you say better than Giselle does, her hands grip onto the sheets till her knuckles turn white. She bites onto the pillow as she feels you reach every depth she thought no one could get to. Her eyes roll back, your hand gripping onto her hips, pushing down giving yourself more room. You push, to what she thinks is to her womb, filling her with rope after rope of your cum. You slowly pull out as she shudders, smiling as she feels your cock rest on her ass, still hard. 

“Sir, how about you join me in the shower and I’ll get you nice and cleaned up, yeah?” 

[priksie]

Koba X reader

Warnings : none yet.

PRT 1

Words count : 1840

a change in your plan

This is my first fanfiction, I never used any platform to write before. Do not hesitate if you have any advice or words and stuff for me to use as this is also not my first language.

Do not hesitate to correct me if my grammar is bad either 🫶🏻

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After months and months or research for a job you finally managed to get one, but a very particular one. You never thought you would be there in such a horrible place, but you needed the money too much to actually let it pass...soon enough you would be outside without a roof over your head if you hadn't got this one job.

Soon enough you will wonder if having that roof was even worth it , do you really want to sleep in a bed with what you have done or seen during the day? Thinking all night about how much of a horrible person you are for helping those people and helping them with their action?

Will those animals ever forgive you for adding more pain to their life ? Will they take revenge and make you regret? You wouldn't even blame them, you deserved that hate. You didn't deserve their pity and you told yourself that all day long , all night before falling asleep in your sheets full of shame.

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

It's been 7 months since you started working in the laboratory, it's hell on earth. You could hear animals in pain all day even when nobody was touching them. Their body had been enduring so much that some of them couldn't even just breath without suffering.

The simple fact that you have to walk past them all the time all days was making you nauseous even more...but you couldn't just leave now , you have been there so long.

You started trying to ''help'' them with their pain , giving them more food behind your colleagues back or faking giving them some medicine you weren't sure we're....without pain. Always trying to speak gently, not being aggressive or rough to show them that you weren't a treat for them as much as the other.

You tried to leave , finding other work places but it wasn't a success. you never got any response back for another one.

During those long months of screaming and torture one always got your attention more than the other , he wasn't like them.

More attentive, more intelligent.

He was different, something was different with him. you couldn't explain why exactly something felt off.

Following order , that primate was acting submissive when your colleagues where there. You could feel he was only pretending , he was sneaky to try to get less hurt by the human around him.

The poor creature probably never saw the light of the sun outside , never got close to animals of his kind. You felt bad for him, especially since he was getting a lot of attention in general , like he was their favorite muse to use.

As time passed you learned you couldn't get too close to him , he was vicious. But you wanted to, you wanted him to trust you in general.

Koba.

Koba was his name and for some reason you always thought that it fits him well. He seemed to always be looking for any human approvals when any were around. He was even saying his name if you asked him how he was called which always made your blood freeze. He isn't stupid. He is far from being just a stupid animal like they think he is.

He knows you were weaker than the other , that you cared more than your colleagues. That you will always look at him with pity and that you were naive. You didn't do much to him, he didn't have any real reason to want you dead. Sure , you were still working with them helping them when you HAD to but you never did anything you weren't obliged to do. You always had some nice gesture towards them, trying to make their life less terrible even if it wasn't much.

He could feel it , he could smell the fear in you when you accidently get too close to his enclosure. Even then...the snack that always filled your pocket always gets to him too, never leaving him without any. You just didn't take as much time as you did with the other.

Koba didn't waste any time to look at you with that horrible stare of sadness when you were the one having to come clean around or if you had to be the one coming to feed them , sometimes you wondered if he was practicing that stare to try to make you feel even more bad for him.

Of Course if you could you would free him, run away and make sure he was safe somewhere else.

BUT YOU COULDN'T. NOT LIKE THAT , NOT YET.

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

Today was no exceptions , you had to go clean and feed koba with a few of the others.

You wouldn't admit it , you feared koba a lot but you also....cared for him more than the other , you always had better biscuit on you just for him in particular.

When you got to his small enclosure that honestly looking like a tornado had been stuck inside , he didn't even look at you at first and only looked at the blanket he had torn apart. The room was a mess and you will definitely need to go grab a new one for him later. Who wouldn't go crazy in such a small space when you needed so much more , koba didn't have anything else to do either way to occupy his time.

Placing your hair behind your ears , you called his name and that's when he looked at you.

Slowly, he walked towards the door where you saw his hand reach for you, like he learned to do when someone was coming towards him , understanding that most of the time he will actually get something especially if it's you that was coming.

With no wait you gave it to him, same for the biscuits and only after that he went against a wall again to eat. He wasn't on his guard as much as the other when you were the one coming , he knew you weren't the real danger here.

Sometimes you wondered if you could walk in and clean , like you could with a few others and a colleague already told you that you could but you didn't trust koba enough for that so you never did.

Until then you always asked someone else to do it for you, but for once....maybe you should do it alone , maybe you could start building some trust with him.

He could hear you breathing , you weren't confident and you didn't seem comfortable either. He wanted you to trust him, he wanted you to be close and not because he needed a Friend to be with him , or at least he didn't trust you Enough to actually think you would ever be a friend for him.

He wanted a way out , koba only saw you as a way to get out of there. He knew you were most likely to take pity on him, he could easily make you vulnerable if he wanted to. Even if you were scared , he noticed that you started to care more and be more attentive to him than before and that you seemed to actually look to get '' closer '' even if you weren't confident enough just yet. The primate had a perfect idea for that , and he waited until you started to walk away in the idea of getting a new blanket for him. Koba took every piece of the destroyed blanket from the ground and made a pile with it , so everything wasn't laying around and you will just have to take it and throw it out.

He was looking at you coming back , with the fresh and new blanket. he picked up the pile of torn laundry from the floor and seemed to be waiting for you to take it.

She came closer to the door and looked at him through the glasses , he cleaned . He cleaned his own mess and was waiting for you almost like he was waiting to see if you would be....proud ? He doesn't know himself why he cared so much to still have any human approval of his actions, he always ended up wounded by their hand.

Should you go inside ? Wondering if you could really trust the ape to not try anything.

No, it probably isn't a great idea to get yourself with him in such a small space.

You sighed , you got your badge to open the door with a shaking hand. You weren't sure if it was smart of you , but he didn't seem to look to cause any harm , he was just trying to give the mess to her so he didn't have it with him anymore.

Her heart beat got faster as she pushed the door open and went slowly inside , her hands reached for the pile of ruined laundry.

The door closed again, she was inside and stuck with him. Once she had the fabric in hand , she handed him the new one and koba took it from her hand. This interaction felt weird for her, he didn't seem aggressive, neither did he look like he would try to escape or anything. Maybe he was just testing you and you were doing the same without realizing it.

It's only when your hand tried to reach his head , that he suddenly stepped back. His teeth are on full display for you to see and he was standing on his two feet but not too long before he retreated , you tried to push your luck too far. He didn't trust you , not that far. All the time human hands were on him wasn't for a good reason. Why would he believe it would be different with you? Even if he wanted to trust someone the fear of the abuse was still there and will probably never go away. Even if you never showed him that you would hurt him , he wouldn't be taking any risk.

please let me go. I do not feel safe so close to you.

You retreated too, you didn't want to die here today , you never thought you were able to escape a cage so fast in your life.

Was koba ever lonely? Did he ever want anyone close to him ? He couldn't possibly be happy to be all alone.

You looked at him through the glass door between the two of you , and he did the same but he looked at you differently. He couldn't talk , he didn't have any other way to show you he absolutely DIDN'T want you to touch him. He didn't do that to hurt your feelings , why would he have thought of that he doesn't think so far. he just wanted you to let him have his small comfort zone and not to approach it when he had the choice on it since he usually doesn't really have a choice.

'' I understand '' you let out , carefully as you showed your hand like you would to any human to show you weren't a danger or that you weren't armed.

Her heart was still beating fast , she wasn't someone who thought he was a weaker creature and she knew well he could have killed her easily if he wanted too and if he didn't learn than hurting human will results in him being even more in pain.

He wasn't to blame , humans in this place were.

You would never admit it , but you care for him much more than he thought and you would do so much for him if you could and not only free him from there....but you will never let anyone know those thoughts of yours. Even if he escaped , could he ever trust humans again? He probably never knew anything else , she doesn't know if he ever had any human being nice to him before.

No one knows that but today was probably the last day he would be in a cage either way. Everyone's life will be changing , and nothing will ever be the same.

[paviastrashyrings]

Hello i hope you’re doing well!

Can i request medicine pocket with a s/o that is always tired and sleepy

They try to stay awake and get things done or do anything to distract themselves but a lot of times it still wouldn’t work

That’s it, have a nice day and thank you!

Hello again, dear readers !! How I have missed all of you, the dreaded exam week has come to its exhausting close and I'm going to try and get back on posting. Without further ado, allow me to introduce to you our self-experimenting genius for tonights dream!

If sleep did not love you so much, dear reader, then how come you find yourself in its grasp even in the midst of lifes course?

prone to heavy eyes and dazed smiles, you often find yourself waking up with items in your hands from activities you were doing.

Medicine Pocket was no stranger to your bouts of sleep, finding you curled up in the most impossible places with items in your hands and papers for pillows.

You poor sweet angel, you who could do no wrong in their eyes, resting with a smile on your sweet face. Beneath the harsh cold light of the lab, you were warm and the sound of your soft breathing was like music to Medicine Pockets ears.

"Jeez, what the hell am i gonna do with you, huh?" They whisper, draping their labcoat over your shoulders in a moment of rare tenderness that never leaves your company.

The way you pulled their labcoat closer and smiled just a little more made the fleeting vulnerability all the more worth it.

As much of an inconvenience as it was to have you sleep in their lab, they could listen to the sound of your slow breathing for hours on end.

When you would stir, they would fight the urge to reach over and pet your head, much like how they would pet a sleepy puppy.

When you would wake, you'd find your makeshift paper pillows and useless pens gone confused as to where they went.

A little note, neatly written (as neat as they could've wrote at least), was a short notice that read "Next time, fall asleep near the corner of my desk, dumbass <3"

This has been a wonderful ask to write, im so happy to be back and writing for my dear readers once again. Now and forever, yours Moon

[icarustypicalfall]

RUDY MY BELOVED

head canons and random thoughts idk

idc if this is him or not if this canon or not i said what i want none will stop me i am free (probably mentally ill too)

y'all have no clue how bad i love rudy i can litterly write a whole book about this man he is husband material litterly, he's cute, kind, gentle, soft dom vibes, stern in a good way, sarcastic, silly, sassy, cute side eye, cute smile, cute face, cute laugh, cute pout, overall cute, he is intelligent, funny, handsome, probably the best cook, also caring, and cute..

I GENUINELY BELIEVE RUDY IS:

bilingual king (if not more) , he dances in his kitchen at 2 am and bakes the best pasteries. he smells of cinnamon and leather, no matter how much episodes of dora the explorer you watch you'll never reach the level of this man in Spanish, rides bikes and knows every path and shortcut (i see him keeping a hand on yours when you ask to be a backpack and wrap your arms around his waist, probably pats your leg when he stops in red lights), opens the doors and jars for you, gets the book from the top shelves, forehead kisses, hugs hugs hugs, keeps a piece of candy in his pocket for you and hands it to you randomly, writes random cute notes and hides them around your home, wears a matching bracelet, this man plays guitar better than Ed Sheeran, reminds you of your medicine\staying hydrated\eat.., takes a photo of you and him yearly and frames it, ties shoe laces of toddlers, loves children and absolutely enjoys taking care of them, teases you about your accent/language/habits.. but never crosses any boundary, helps find the other pair of socks, huge arguments with this man on who'll pay the bill (he insists on paying like those arab moms and toss the bills\card to the confused waiter), shuts you with a kiss, gives best massage and if you're willing to give him one he'll melt, cool uncle, introvert but extrovert at the same time, hates violence descipline and prefers talking/ taking privelidges (like watching tv or going out at night), will absolutely be the coolest dad ever, chocolate puppy eyes; he knows what he's doing, you can't stay mad at him he'll poke your head and apologize and annoy you till you crack/ hands you a plate of sliced apples, takes you to your favorite park, tried new hobbies with you; became a pro in pottery but failed at roller skating.

As a conclusion, i need this man in my life so bad i am gonna cry in the corner and factory reset my brain 😞💔

[januaryembrs]

trouble almost all my life chapter seven teaser.

TEASER UNDER THE CUT

“Practice run, I see,” Spencer said with a chuckle, shoving his hands in his pockets, and watching her scramble to set the ball back on the marker, “So out of interest, how many of these practice runs are you getting,”

“Just the one,” She said, hitting the plastic globe again, though this time it barely made it half way up the incline before it rolled right back down again, “Two, I get two. This one’s the real one, starting now,”

“The real one? So this one’s really the one that counts, right?” He teased, and she glared thinly at him over her shoulder. He stepped closer, a look of the cat that got the cream smeared all across his face as he took a stance behind her, wrapping his arms around hers with the oldest trick in the book, “Why don’t you let your dearest husband help you out, huh?”

“I have a masters and half a degree in medicine, I think I know what I’m doing,” She hummed, though the feeling of his hands resting over hers soone quietened down whatever fire was stoked in her belly from losing their game. Spencer was so close she could feel him breathing down her neck, feel his chest on her shoulder blades, and worst and most heinous of all, feel his crotch pressing against her tailbone.

“Alright, alright. Just humour me,” He murmured, a new found confidence in him that he only seemed to get whenever they were playing the part of being other people. He gave her a salacious lick of his lips, smiling at her with a pink parted mouth, his eyes dark in this light like he knew what she was thinking as well, and he couldn’t help but think she looked so pretty when he flirted with her a little. He’d always thought that when she was stunned into that quiet tone, the mousy look she got on her face was rather cute.

His hands engulfed hers with a mesh of pornographic veins and sadistically handsome knuckles, his mouth at her ear as they lined up the shot together.

It was as if a murmuration of birds had flocked together in her chest, dipping and diving and creating all manner of shapes in her stomach as she felt it flip three or four times, his body so entirely pressed against hers she never wanted to move a muscle. She’d had the odd thought pop into her head about what sex with Spencer Reid might feel like, and yet all she could think about in the haze of the putter and fake grass beneath their feet was how delicious he felt pressing into her like that.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as she looked forward again, and she could have sworn she held back a moan when he breathed out down her spine.

—

this is a little teaser for the 15k chapter that is on its way as an apology for delaying it so many times. My mom has broken her nose so I’m really trying to help her out since it’s just the two of us, and as much as I try to cram writing into my days, I’m struggling to manage everything at once so take this as a sign that a big chapter is on its way!!

hope you guys can forgive <3

[lara-kaminari]

The benefits of the modern era

(Sebastian Sallow x F!MC)

AU University / +18/ ONE-SHOT / Explicit Language / Fantasize.

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Note: I had this thought and I had to write it down

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Sebastian Sallow is a great lover of the modern era.

He loves advances in technology, medicine, music and art. It has evolved enormously in different aspects of everyday life. Who would think that today you press a button and you can communicate with a person twenty countries away? It is exquisite. So much to learn just one click away from achieving it.

However, above all the existing achievements of the human species, what Sebastian Sallow loves most about modern times are short skirts. Blessed invention of this new century, amen to freedom and free expression of bodies!

Perhaps, in a bleak time where light is produced only by candles and not by electric bulbs, Sebastian would be content to see the ankle of some neglected damsel. Now he pities those ancient customs full of false decorum and little skin-to-skin contact.

In fact, if it comes to that, Sebastian also loves the university library: It's comfortable, spacious, has those soft armchairs that are usually backless. Covered by a rigid fabric that can be made of different materials: leather, fabric, plastic, the interior is filled with soft materials such as polystyrene pieces which makes it adaptable to different spaces and uses. Its structure resembles a large cushion as it has no legs, resting its entire base on the floor. He can just lie down with a good book between his legs and enjoy the world from a different height.

The low height allows him to see the girls climbing the moving ladder to grab a book from the high shelf or those who spread their legs a little apart as they sit at the table in front of him.

And there he was. Sebastian snuck up stealthily, grabbed a book and leaned back on the colorful rubber seat in the corner of the place.

If anyone messed with him, he would make believe he was reading some very important history for his exam.

There was not much activity the first hour. Indeed, the warmth of the room and the comfort meant that sleepiness began to wash over him. It would have been a wasted morning except that, suddenly, he heard a stack of books fall and someone groan in pain, very close to where he was.

Sebastian sharpened his vision, the bookshelf hid a girl who now bent down to pick up her books. The position of the two was a blessing for him: the sight of striking green panties greeted him. Quite a sight.

The girl kept crawling to pick up all the scattered books. Something she was whispering, but Sebastian didn't give her enough interest. His attention was fixed on those high socks squeezing her thighs. The sight was enchanting and more so because she was swaying as she picked up each book without realizing she had a shameless onlooker.

Sebastian wondered how hard it would be to agree to such a fuck. Desperate bitches don't usually go to the library. Maybe she'd just be an easy-to-win bimbo. A couple of nice words and he'd have her in the bag. An hour locked up with her and I'd come home with that cute pair of green panties tucked in my pocket.

Those panties that fit those lips perfectly, Sebastian could run his fingers down the middle of those pretty legs and hear her let out good girl squeals. He could rip that fabric and fuck the girl in the middle of those soft couches while the stranger struggles not to scream. Maybe force her to bite the fabric of her panties to keep her quiet while he fucks her ass in the nearest bathroom.

He placed his hand above his fly, settling the future problem between his pants. This was no time to make a scene.

Sebastian moved back into the position of innocent reader when he saw the young woman shake out the bottom of her skirt with the intention of getting up. Perhaps, when she passed in front of him, Sebastian would catch her eye. A good conversation, a couple of compliments, nothing would make him happier than to feel what he could only taste with his eyes.

—Hi Sebastian, studying again?

Shit.

—Hi MC, you know me.

Fantasizing about his best friend he's known since the fifth year of high school is not a source of pride for Sebastian, this could become a problem if he doesn't undo that mental image right then and there. It was just a silly thing, no green panties and short skirts, just a misunderstanding.

—Sebastian, are you all right?

In an ancient era, he would be a man of honor who would not accept false advances. He would stand up, absolutely spotless, and say something like, "Splendid, my dear, never been better," and then walk far away without looking back. But this is the modern era and men don't have as many social skills as they used to.

Stupid modern era.

[lilyrizzy]

continuation of my outsider pov fic i wrote a million years ago. maybe someone will enjoy! cw: medical drama

When Sophie comes back to the waiting room, Daniel is still sleeping. He’s not wearing the Red Bull Racing t-shirt anymore, her son’s she’s since realized, and has instead replaced it with a non-descript grey jumper. Only the oversized sweatpants have stayed, his top long enough to cover the tiny 33 stitched into the pocket.

Arms folded tightly over his chest, there’s a frown creasing his brow that gives away the tension that must be holding his body tight, even as he sleeps. The strange white-blue light from the vending machine opposite bathes his face, making him look more tired than he did earlier in the soft orange glow of Max’s kitchen. Their kitchen.  

It adds to the guilt twisting itself up into knots inside her stomach, the thought of waking him up, but he’s twitching, uncomfortable, and she wants somebody to talk to.

It’s late. Victoria is on a plane.

“Daniel,” she says, touching his shoulder as gently as she can. It’s enough to have him jerking awake anyway, eyes darting around the room before landing on her face. There’s a moment, a flicker of confusion, then-

“Max?” He asks, his voice cracked down the middle with sleep-tinged terror, and- “is he-”

“There is no change Daniel,” Sophie assures him quickly, “we are still waiting for him to wake up.” Then, because he’ll want to know, “the doctor has been though.”

His expression clouds, the sky before a thunderstorm.

“You should have woken me up,” is all he says, but she can hear the words he doesn’t speak.

I deserve to be involved.

Gone is the man who just hours earlier stayed home in Max’s clothes. Since being in the hospital it’s been all vicious demands for information, for medicines, for miracles. As though proximity and looking through the window into the hospital room they aren’t allowed to enter yet reminded him of his rightful place in Max’s life.

That, or fear.

“I- I thought you would like to sleep,” She tries, but it’s only a half-truth. Max is her baby, and she is not used to sharing him with anybody but his father, who has already flown home to his new wife, his two new babies.

She expects more of a fight, but Daniel eventually just nods, shoves his thumbnail into his mouth and starts to chew at it’s edges.

“Right, yeah, of course- Sorry,” he mumbles around it, eyes glancing between the door, the clock and the floor.

Standing over him, for a moment she feels lost. Uncertain of what to do, what to say.

“I brought you some food though,” she settles on, remembering what made her wander away from the room in the first place. She takes the two prepackaged sandwiched out from under her arm where she’s been squashing them. “You should eat something,” she adds in what Victoria calls her mother-knows-best tone when Daniel just stares at her. “I did not know what you would like, but I thought everyone likes cheese, yes?”

She holds it out to him, and to her surprise, that gets him to smile. Awkwardly, hand touching the back of his neck.

“Actually, um- I’m lactose intolerant,” he says like an apology with a shrug.

Of course.

“Oh.” Then holding out the other packet instead, “here. I have this one, also. Roast chicken.”

Something flickers over Daniel’s face, and for a moment she’s worried he’s about to tell her he’s a fucking vegetarian, when she realises it’s softness. The deep lines of his worry momentarily smoothing.

“This is great, Sophie,” he promises softly, taking it from her outstretched hand. “Thank you.”

She takes a seat beside him in the plastic chair, feels every uncomfortable ridge of it press into her skin. A constant, aching reminder of where she is and why. An inescapable reality. Daniel opens his sandwich, but the lead weight in her stomach makes her a hypocrite, makes her put hers down on the empty chair besides her.

There’s no one else around, it's long past visiting hours. She tries not to think about what that must mean, that they’ve let them stay sat in this purgatory. That no one has told them, ‘go home, there won’t be any change.’ There could be change, and they both know it could go either way.

There’s nothing. No nurses, no doctors, no priest in the hospital chapel. She already checked. Just the ticking of the clock above both their heads, driving her insane.

“Before you said, 6 years,” she plucks from the silence to stop it choking her. Beside her, she feels Daniel tense. “That is a long time.”

He takes a bite of food and chews for a long time in favour of answering.

“Yeah. It is,” is all she gets once he’s swallowed. She nods, turning her body towards him, to try to get him to meet her eye.

“And you are- You are happy together, yes?”

This time there is no hesitation.

“Yes.” As though it could be anything other than the truth.

He still won’t look at her though, staring instead at the crusts of the bread.

“Even- Even though you race each other?” She pushes, because even an argument right now would be better than silence. Would help each of them to feel less alone, give them somewhere to lay down a little of the hurt.

For a moment, Sophie thinks he isn’t going to answer. Then, Daniel dumps his food onto the chair next to him too and finally turns to face her.

“Look, it’s- It hasn’t been all smooth sailing, I won’t lie to you,” Daniel allows, after another beat. His eyes search her face, as though looking for permission to go on. She nods again, but doesn’t speak. “This, ah, this season hasn’t been great for me. It might be my last, but Max, he- He helps. He calls me on my bullshit when I need it, he- Well I would be a lot less happy without him.”

He cringes then, like he’s worried he’s said too much, then continues quickly, almost defensively-

“But I look after him too, I do. I do a good job of making him happy too, I-"

Shaking his head, he breaks off before lifting his hands to bury his face into his palms.

I look after him too, Sophie turns over in her brain, and isn’t that all she ever wanted for Max? How badly has she failed for him to question that enough to feel he needed to hide from her.

Whatever she was looking for, she hasn’t found it in making Daniel look defeatedly back at the floor.

“I am sure you do,” she promises, though there is a mountain of undeniable evidence against her having any idea. She reaches to touch his shoulder, tentative. “Max is not somebody to do anything he does not want to. I think you would not have lasted 6 months if you did not. 6 years, is- “

It’s a lifetime, when you are twenty. She knows people who have married, separated and divorced in less time.

“I’m glad he got to have that,” she finishes, words forced past the tightness of her throat, “if- I’m glad.”

Daniel's head snaps back around to look at her. For a moment, his face goes perfectly still, before awful realization crests over it.

“Incase-“ She tries, but she doesn’t get another word out. Daniel is jumping to his feet, coming to crouch in front of her. Hands on her knees he looks up at her shaking his head.

“No, no, no,” he says, firmer than she’s heard him be before now, “Sophie, no. None of that okay, I cant- I can’t hear that right now. Max is going to be fine.”

The taste of salt at the corner of her mouth surprises her. She’s crying. When she speaks again, shaking her head too, her voice is cracked.

“But-“

“He’s going to be fine,” Daniel interrupts, and she doesn’t know who he is trying to convince more. “In a couple of hours they’re going to take us to his room, and- And he’s going to laugh at us for being so worried, okay?”

She rubs her fingertips over her eyes, smearing her tears across her face. All she wants is Daniel’s words to be true. It’s all she wants in the world.

“You do not know what,” she says because it’s what makes him seem so cruel to her right now. How can he promise a mother that her baby will be fine when he knows nothing more than she does?

But when he hangs his head, hand still clutching her kneecaps, she feels guilty for trying to take his hope from him.

“I love him,” he tells the tiled hospital floor. “He has to be okay, Sophie, I- I love him.”

[sweetprfct]

Is It Over Now?

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fake dating your flatmate, Joe, should be a simple thing. It meant you get to help get his ex back, and it meant you get to stop your parents' nagging about bringing someone home for once. But what happens when fake dating turns into something unexpected? Now, what?

Author's Note: Part 2! :) Enjoy ! I actually am editing these chapters as I re-upload them so it's better but not much will change.

Disclaimer: Mention of violence, 18+

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten

Joe’s head pounded the second he woke up the next morning. He slowly fluttered his eyes open, adjusting his vision from the bright light that was coming through the window. He couldn’t tell where he was at the moment until his eyes caught the sight of the coffee table and the television in front of him. He was still in the living room just like the blur memory he remembered from last night. He groaned softly, rubbing his temples and pinching the bridge of his nose to try and get rid of the throbbing headache, but it was no use. He drank too much last night, and he still remembered every detail of it. Every pain and every word that Ivy had told him. 

Shifting his eyes back on the coffee table, he found a glass of water, a paracetamol, and a yellow sticky note. Slowly, he pushed himself up from the sofa and let out another groan. God, he was starting to feel old. His body felt sore from sleeping on the sofa all night. He picked up the yellow sticky note and read:

Thought you might need it.

He knew that handwriting from anywhere and that was from you. He looked around the flat and found that it was quiet and empty. You were nowhere to be found. Taking the medicine and immediately washing it down with the water, he let out a sigh and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He could still hear Ivy’s voice echoing in his mind from last night. He couldn’t help but wonder where he went wrong in showing her how much he wanted to be with her. Pulling out his phone from his back pocket, he stared at the screen for a moment before pulling up his messages from Ivy. He hasn't seen her for two months, and he was really excited to spend some time with her last night. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked. 

His mind flashed back to the memory from last night. He had taken her to a nice restaurant for once and not a pub, and he wanted the night to be a special night, but Ivy hasn’t said much ever since he picked her up from her flat. To make matters worse, she also has just been sitting there across from him barely eating her dinner. He had been telling her about what happened on set for his new film, and she barely listened. She was zoning out the whole time just staring into the empty space in front of her. 

“I don’t know if I can take anymore of this, Joe.” Ivy blurted the words out, cutting off the story that he was telling her.

Joe knitted his brows, confused as to what she was referring to. He reached for her hand on the table, but she was quick to slide it away. 

“What are you talking about, babe?” His voice was full of concern.

“I mean I can’t take anymore of barely seeing you. Whenever you come back, you’re only in town for a few days, and you leave again.”

Joe knew that his job was complicated, and it even got more complicated when his career had started going up. Flying to the States, other countries and different cities for conventions and events was what was taking up his life lately. Booking a role after another and attending fashion events and shooting commercials for them was the definition of his life for the last however many months. 

“Ivy, I know it can get so hard and complicated, but I’m trying my best to balance it all. It’s hard for me too, not seeing you everyday.”

Ivy didn’t buy what he said though. Instead, she scoffed and shook her head as she took a sip of her drink. 

“Don’t even get me started with that flatmate of yours.” She added. 

Joe furrowed his brows, confused. How did the subject of you suddenly enter this conversation? What was Ivy talking about? He hasn’t even shown any interest towards you nor had he seen you in months because he was barely home. Whenever he was in town, he would stay at Ivy’s most of the time. So, what was the problem when it came to you?

“She’s just my flatmate.” Joe reassured her. “There’s nothing going on between me and her. I barely see her.”

“And how do I know that? How can I be so sure?” Ivy’s eyes were full of jealousy. “She’s pretty, and I’m sure she’s better than me right? Because she’s smart and works at a lab. A fucking chemist, and I’m just a model.”

Joe shook his head in disbelief. He couldn’t put together how Ivy was comparing herself to you. Hasn’t he shown her all this time that he only wanted her and no one else? What more could he say or do?

“Babe, we’re just flatmates. You’re the one I want to be with.” Joe said sternly.

Watching Ivy throw her napkin on the table, she got up from her chair as Joe followed her. He wanted to stop her from leaving, but he couldn’t. 

“No, Joe.” Ivy stated. “This isn’t working out anymore.”

She had made up her mind, and Joe knew when Ivy made up her mind, there was no going back. But how could she just leave like that? How could she choose to believe the insecurities that were screaming in her mind than the actions he had shown to her several times? Not once had Joe broken his promises to her nor tried to disappoint her. Even when he was away, he always tried his best to make sure they talked every single day, so she didn’t feel like she was far from him. Now, he watched her walk out that door as if what they had the last several months was nothing. 

It was over. 

She was gone. 

Joe sighed at the memory as he made his way towards the bathroom. He smelled like alcohol and cigarettes, and his head was pounding even harder the more he thought about her. What else could he do? What could he do to get her back?

The sound of the coffee mug hitting the glass table echoed softly through the room. The place was crowded with people having a Sunday brunch with their friends or families. The gloomy January weather didn’t help with the mood of the conversation you were having with your friends.

Sara’s eyes widened in disbelief as she said, “Really?”

You nodded your head, looking at her through your lashes as you took a sip of your hot coffee. The hot liquid warmed up your throat and made your body relax. It was cold and gloomy, but you never wanted to miss your weekly Sunday brunch with Sara and Abby. It was a little tradition the three of you started ever since Sara had moved out. It was something you found comfort in every week. The day of the week that you would feel more at ease because Sara tends to balance you, and Abby was the most calm person you ever met. 

When Sara had met Abby at the art gallery three years ago, you immediately knew that she was the right person for Sara. Her wavy brown hair, green eyes and soft smile definitely caught Sara’s eyes at the beginning, but it was Abby’s calmness, patience and warm persona that made Sara fall in love with her. You weren’t going to lie that you also felt comfortable and at ease when you first met Abby too. You could understand why Sara had fallen for her. Now, every Sunday, the three of you would catch up and hang out, especially because life would get busy and chaotic from time to time. 

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I feel sorry for him.”

You just finished telling Sara and Abby about what you dealt with last night when Joe came home. Both women had met Joe before, and they knew he was a decent guy, but he was never the main subject of most of your conversations until now. You didn’t really know what to do or to think, so you wanted to seek out some advice or opinion from your best friends. 

“Honestly, Ivy sounds sort of insecure.” Abby commented. 

Abby was right. Even if you have dealt with your own insecurities, you could tell that Ivy also had a fair share of hers because really? Jealous of you? You were literally nothing but just a normal person trying to get through life, while her modeling career was quickly rising. She had nothing to worry about when it came to you. 

“Maybe Joe isn’t showing her enough reassurance?” Abby added, shrugging her shoulders.

You watched as Sara turned to you and tilted her head, brows all furrowed. “Are you sure that having Joe as your flatmate is a good idea?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with how many times you have heard that line. 

“You sound like my mother.” You retorted back.

Sara chuckled softly at your comment and said, “No, but seriously… because do you really want to get caught up in their drama?”

Drama? That was the last thing you wanted in your life, especially in a drama that involved someone else’s relationship. You knew what Joe was going through, but you weren’t about to cross boundaries. What was going on between him and Ivy was their business, not yours. 

“I’m not really caught up in their drama. That’s their own problem, you know? My name just happened to get dragged into it.” You casually said as you shrugged your shoulders.

It was the truth. You weren’t. 

“Yeah, but what if she drags you even more in her little insecurity?” Abby addressed.

You knew what was going on between them. Even if your name was dragged to their conversation last night, you weren’t the big issue here. Joe had told you that, and you knew there were other issues they were dealing with. Ivy just happened to include you into it. Maybe to cause more excuses not to be with Joe. You really didn’t know.

“I don’t care what she feels about me because I’m not doing anything to her.” You took a bite off your waffle and decided to change the subject. You were sort of over this conversation about Joe. 

Whatever was going on with him, that was his business. All you did was comfort him and listen to him, hoping you’d make someone feel better. That was all. 

“Anyway, enough about me. How are you? How is married life treating you both?” You asked, a small smile creeping up on your face. 

You watched as the two women exchanged looks before both of their lips tugged into a smile. 

“Great!” Sara replied. “We’re settling in the new place, and Abby is back to work. Though, we sort of started talking about something the other night.”

Your eyes watched as Sara and Abby held hands, giving each other a warm smile. It made you more curious as to what Sara was talking about. 

“Tell her.” Abby murmured, squeezing Sara’s hand softly. 

Your eyes widened in curiosity as you waited for one of them to tell you whatever they were planning, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit impatient as Sara tried to find the right words to say to you. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

“I don’t know.” Sara suddenly felt shy as she gave Abby a hesitant look, which in return, Abby kept giving her an approval look. “We were sort of talking a lot of things about our future last night, and we know it sounds a bit crazy…” 

You raised your brows, wanting Sara to just spat out the words. 

“Yea?”

“We sort of want to adopt.” Sara finally said. 

You couldn’t help but almost jump out of your seat from excitement as soon as Sara said those words. 

“Ohmygod.” You covered your mouth with your hand. “Are you serious?”

Abby and Sara glanced at each other with excitement. They really were serious, and you could tell how thrilled they were by just how they were talking about it. They both turned back to you and nodded their heads. 

“I’m so happy for you both.” You took both of their hands in yours. “Please let me know if I could help with anything.”

“Thank you.” Abby smiled. “We both knew we wanted this even before getting married and the fact that it’s happening, we are very excited about it.”

“Then, you both should go for it!” You encouraged them even more as you all laughed softly in unison. 

“And you should go look for a new flat!” Sara teased you, squeezing your hand softly.

“Stop it! I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes, sliding your hands away from theirs. “I’m perfectly happy with my situation, and it’s not like Joe is bothering me. They’re broken up. I have nothing to worry about.”

Abby took a sip of her coffee and a playful smile tugged on her lips. “Who knows… Maybe you’ll end up with Joe.”

Oh, here we go again. 

Why did everyone keep pushing this idea of you and Joe? He literally was nothing but just your flatmate. Just because he was a man didn’t mean that you two would end up together. A woman and a man could be flatmates together. Just like a man and a woman could be friends. 

Right?

“We’re just flatmates. That’s all.” You argued.

You just wished everyone was going to drop this subject already because you and Joe weren’t going to happen. Ever.

Coming home later that day, you found the flat quiet and empty. The sofa was back to the way it looked. Pillows fluffed, throw blanket folded and hung at the back of it. The kitchen was clean, and the dishes that Joe promised he would wash were all clean and put away. Joe was nowhere to be found, and you figured maybe he had gone out. Maybe he went to go talk to Ivy or pick up his things from her place. Who knows.

As you walked down the hall towards your bedroom, floorboards creaked, and you heard a quiet rustling that came from Joe’s room. 

Oh, he was home. 

You passed by his bedroom and paused in your tracks as soon as you saw him organizing his room. He looked better. Not his usual normal face, but he looked better than last night. 

“Hey.” You gave him a soft smile, leaning against the doorframe.

Joe never set boundaries like you did with him, but you tend to respect his own private space. He didn’t have to set rules with you because he didn’t really care that much about his own boundaries, but you respected him as your flat mate. It was his bedroom. You never tried to step into it. 

“How are you?” You asked.

Joe shut his closet doors closed and took a deep breath, turning his attention to you with a smile. 

“Good. I have been thinking a lot all morning.” 

He looked… enthusiastic?

“Oh, yeah?” You raised your brows. “How’d that go?”

Joe started walking towards you as he said, “I really like Ivy.”

You nodded your head in understanding, trying to figure out where this conversation was going.

“And you know that, right?” Joe asked as if you were out of the loop about this whole thing.

Of course, you knew. He was probably mad over her.

“Right, but Joe if she doesn’t want this anymore–”

Joe cut you off as he stopped in front of you. It looked like a light bulb switched above his head as his lips tugged into a devious smile. 

“So, I was thinking that Ivy was just being Ivy, and she just wants attention. I know she wants me to chase her.”

What the fuck was he on? 

You furrowed your brows, wondering what that mind of his started thinking all morning that all of a sudden he was saying all of these things. If he wanted her back, then so be it. It was his life, and you couldn’t stop whatever he wanted to do with his life. You weren’t his mother. Though, from the look of his expression, you didn’t think his own mother could also stop him from doing whatever he wanted anyway. 

“So, I’m going to try and get her back.” Joe continued.

Well, good for you, mate but good luck. 

“Can I ask a favor though? No, not favor… But I need your help.”

Now, you were scared–no–terrified.

You stood there without saying a word as you blinked your eyes and stared at Joe for a moment. You didn’t want to say anything or ask what he wanted because you had a feeling in your stomach that it was going to be something you weren’t going to agree on. You could just feel it. 

“What is it?” You steady your voice, trying not to stumble on your words. 

“I need you to be my fake girlfriend.” Joe said sternly, his chocolate button eyes staring right into your eyes.

Oh, fuck no.

Absolutely fucking not. 

Your eyes widened in disbelief, trying to repeat Joe’s words in your head. Did he really just said that? Did he really just asked you that? When he said he had been thinking all day, you didn’t realize that he hadn’t been thinking at all! Where the fuck did he even got this idea from? Did he put that paracetamol somewhere other than his mouth, or did that medicine went up to his brain? 

You understood that he was going through a difficult and rough time due to the fact that he liked Ivy that much, but did he completely lose his mind? Was this the situation that Abby and Sara were afraid of when they said that you really needed to look for a new flat? Because it was starting to look like your flatmate had gone mad. 

“E…Excuse me, what?!” You finally found your words as you looked at Joe in disbelief. 

“I know that I probably sound mad but–”

“Uh… yeah, you got that right!” You scoffed, shaking your head as you took a step back from him. 

Maybe your mother was right. What else was he going to do next? Stab you just like what that boyfriend of your mother’s friend’s daughter did?! 

Joe saw the horrific look in your eyes as he tried to calm you down and showed you that he wasn’t actually going mad but all you wanted to do was run away from where you were. 

Joe sighed and looked down at his feet and said, “If she saw you and me are dating, then she’d get jealous and she’d ask me to get her back.”

You really need to go find another flat. 

You shook your head and started making your way towards your bedroom. “Absolutely not! You’ve gone mad!”

Joe followed behind you, and you gave him a “don’t you dare” look as soon as he was about to step inside your room. Joe, however, caught himself and stood by your doorway with pleading eyes. 

“Please? I know that this is crazy, and you probably think I’m crazy, but I really like her. I just…” Joe’s voice was soft as he let out a sigh and said, “I really thought she was the one.”

You weren’t going to lie. You have known Joe for a year, so you knew this was just him going through a breakup. Maybe losing his mind a little but everyone loses their minds when it comes to someone they love, right? Did Joe even love Ivy? You understood why he was doing this, but you were already on Ivy's hit list, and Joe thought this was going to be a good idea?

There was no way you were going to bring yourself in this drama. You already told yourself that. You even told your friends that earlier. 

God, Sara and Abby were right. 

“If she’s the one, then she’ll come back to you without you doing all this crazy shit.” 

Joe pursed his lips and nodded his head in understanding. He wasn’t going to press you with this subject because he knew it was mental in the first place. He was just hoping that maybe you would say yes, but he also understood that you weren’t going to put yourself in a situation like this. How could he drag you into his own problem?

“I understand.” Joe murmured. “I’m sorry for making up this idea in the first place, and I’m sorry for trying to drag you into it.”

You watched as Joe gave you an apologetic look and walked away. You sighed and flopped yourself on your bed face down, letting out a small groan. Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your back pocket. You flipped yourself over, so you were laying on your back, sliding your phone out and saw that your mum was trying to facetime you.

Oh, fucking great. 

Whatever she wanted to say wasn’t really something you wanted to hear tonight. You didn’t need her to add into the craziness. You stared at your phone for a moment, hesitating on what to do, but you knew she wasn’t going to leave you alone, so you decided to answer the call. 

“Hey mum.” Your voice sounded tired. 

The second your mum appeared on your screen, you saw how she looked excited and there was a big smile plastered on her face. 

“It’s not really a good time, mum–”

Your eyes widened when a man about your age appeared next to your mum. He waved hello to you as your mum started introducing you to him. 

What the hell was she doing? Was she really trying to set you up with a stranger right now? Joe wasn’t the only one going mad tonight. Though, you retracted that thought because your mum was already mad. 

“This is Alex. He’s our new neighbor’s son. I thought maybe you two could get to know each other.”

God, this was so embarrassing. 

How could she fucking do this to you? You were 28 years old, and she was setting you up with some man you never met. Not only was it embarrassing, but you didn’t need your own mother to set you up with someone. If you wanted to date or be in a relationship, you could find a man for yourself. 

“Mum, this isn’t such a good time.” You looked at Alex through the screen and said, “It’s nice to meet you, but I have to go. I’m sorry.”

Just like that, you immediately hit the end call button and grabbed your pillow to muffle a scream. Everything was just making you so frustrated, and you were even more frustrated with your mum. Her actions were starting to get into your last nerve. You didn’t know if you could take anymore of this from her. Even if you were far away, she still managed to piss you off. 

Staring at the ceiling, your dad’s voice echoed in your mind about when you were going to bring a man home. Were you really that much of a disappointment to your family? Did you really need to marry or be with someone for them to feel proud of you? Because that was just wrong. You were a chemist for fuck’s sake. You were literally out there dealing and mixing chemicals and synthesizing DNA just so this world could find cures for illnesses and diseases and all your parents could care about was you getting in a relationship? 

You were so sick of it! 

Then, your eyes darted towards the empty hall just right outside your door. Joe’s offer echoed in your mind, and you were starting to ask yourself if you also had gone mental too. Maybe you have. 

Letting your feet lead you, you got up from your bed and slowly walked down the hall towards Joe’s bedroom. His door was open, and you quietly peeked and saw that he was just sitting there at the edge of his bed, thinking deeply with a melancholy look on his face. His hands were playing with the empty beer bottle, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes because all of this was so stupid. 

“So…” You stood by his doorway, getting his attention. “How long is this fake dating thing?”

Joe froze where he was and stared at you in disbelief. Were you really offering an approval to his crazy idea? Honestly, you were asking yourself the same thing. 

“Just until I finally catch her attention and would want me back.” Joe answered.

You bit your lower lip, playing with your fingers nervously for a moment before taking a deep breath and said, “So, here are the rules...”

Joe’s full attention was now to you as he waited for you to continue. 

“If you get to use me as your fake girlfriend then I get to use you as my fake boyfriend at any upcoming family gathering.”

Joe set the empty bottle on his bedside table before getting up from his bed and walked over to where you were. He was trying to comprehend the offer that you just made. 

“You mean… introducing me to your parents as your boyfriend?” Joe asked, brows all knitted together. 

“Yes, that’s right.” 

“Then, you have to go to party events with me, especially if Ivy is there.”

You tilted your head, giving Joe a look. “Joe, I have a job. I can’t just ditch that for stupid party events.”

“Then, how are people going to believe we’re dating if we’re not seen together?” Joe argued. 

The man had a point but there was no way you were going to agree with this without getting anything in return. 

“Fine, but you get to pay for the dresses and shoes that I have to wear to these stupid events, and I get to keep them all.”

“Okay, deal.” Joe gave you a smile. 

You weren’t done yet. 

“And one more thing, you could only kiss me and hold me but there’s no sex.”

The small chuckle that escaped from Joe sort of insulted you, but you ignored it because this was all fake anyway. Besides, you both were using each other for both of your benefits, so you didn’t have time to feel insulted that Joe was quick to agree that he didn’t want to have sex with you. 

“No problem.” Joe agreed, reaching his hand towards you. 

You stared into his eyes as you shook his hand firmly in agreement. 

You were so going to regret this, weren’t you? 

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna

[lonelynpc]

The Batfam as Medical Specialties

bruce wayne is an anaesthetist: you might say, “but, lonelynpc, bruce wayne would be a paediatrician,” to which i would say, "no". this man can pay attention to 1000 things at once. he’s writing in the anaesthetic record while listening to the monitors, singing his favourite song and listening out for close. he knows exactly what the patient's heart rate, sats, etc are from sound alone. he can recognise the most minute changes in the monitor’s sounds and will know exactly what it is that’s dropping or increasing without looking up. if he's standing up, you know there's something to be worried about. (brings cakes in from alfred for his team every day, don't @ me)

dick grayson is a trauma surgeon: this is because i am afraid of him and i am afraid of trauma surgeons. he’s terrifying and he works fast. he's an inexpressible comfort to people in his care, he regularly gets flowers or chocolates from families and patients. he’s lovely outside of work but at work, jfc can you stop glaring at me over the drapes? (also treats his entire team to dinner at the end of every month)

jason todd is a paediatric surgeon: i don’t wanna hear it. he definitely pimps his students, interns and residents for sport but the second he’s around his patients? he's "doctor jay". he’s got stickers in every pocket, fun scrub caps, a dragon stephoscope cover, a jelly finger monster on the end of his penlight and an endless supply of teddy bear tegaderms. he's got toy stephoscopes and teddy bears in his pockets at all times to give to the kids. he puts a bandage, wristband, hospital gown, mask and hairnet on patient's toys before they wake up as well.

barbara gordon is a cardiothoracic surgeon: she’s serious, intimidating and calculating. people look at her and wither. she’s yelling at interns for talking, pimping her med students about everything including her surgical playlist. you get a question wrong? “do some research. i’ll ask you again when i see you next,” and she will not forget so you better do that research. she's strict with patients because she cares and gets so excited when she sees/hears improvement.

tim drake is a radiologist: he’s glued to that damn screen and pounding back black coffee. he’s seeing the problem before you even know there is one. “oh, you don’t see that tiny hairline fracture with your novice eyes? you're pathetic, get out of my way. i’m getting you an ophthalmology consult.”

stephanie brown is an orthopedic surgeon: she’s a jock. i can’t explain it. she is a jock. she’s blasting the most absurdly mixed playlist, singing along and wearing her space suit and lead. she's fun and can tell you the exact injury and the severity just by hearing the mechanism of injury. no filter though smh, she'll tell her intern that they should get their back looked at after seeing their posture.

duke thomas is a neurosurgeon: can’t explain it but he is. he’s got the lights out and that headlamp on, nobody talk to him, he’s Looking™, did somebody breathe? who did that? own up so i can kick you out, you should be ashamed of yourself and your family.

cassandra cain is a general practitioner: i think she’d love being a general practitioner (family medicine). she’d like having regular patients, she'd like the variety and the payoff. alternatively, i'd say she'd like pallative care and providing comfort in end-of-life care.

damian wayne is an ob/gyn: look, let’s be real, he’s probably a vet but in human medicine? ob/gyn. he chews out residents but he also chews out partners in the room for being annoying during delivery. he has a chaperone with him 24/7 and will kick all non-essential personnel out of the room during an exam. also has mastered the old "oh, could you go sign the discharge forms at reception?" to get a partner out of the room so he can ask if the patient is safe going home.

[roomsofangel]

CHAPTER ONE

synopsis you spent your entire childhood and teenage years being what your mother wanted you to be — and so when you finally strike a deal and made a bet with the woman, you are determined to prove her wrong and that your passion for art could be turned into a living if you just tried hard enough.

however, things might have just gotten harder when you cross paths with the lead vocalist of an uprising rock band who seems to be nothing but a charming thorn in your side

wc 2.0k

warnings not really any!

reblogs & comments are very appreciated and also help out a lot! thank you for reading and giving my work a chance ♥���

a gentle sense of dread filled your chest as you hastily packed up your paint-smudged supplies after the art class you insisted on taking to hopefully better your skills for your overflowing passion. your mother always claimed it was a waste of time, trying to get you to venture off into the field of medicine but you always told her to let you at least try.

so, while you carefully wrapped your brushes in their familiar protective cloth and shoved them into the depths of your bag, you tried to keep your unease at bay. you had a few months until you and your mother decided which route your life will take — whether painting and music would be the way your heart will go to make a living or if you had to snuff out your spark and do what she wanted. a deal just to get where you are now and an attempt to prove her wrong.

the smell of oil paint clung to your fingers despite several washes in the sink, and you made a mental note to bring some hand sanitizer next time. you glanced back at the canvas, half-finished but bursting with color. maybe you could add just a tiny bit more to the whites and the sides, the corners looked as if it needed more of a pop. you sighed, running your fingers through your hair, your muse was running thin and you didn’t have time to recharge it when you had plans with yeosang tonight.

and speak of him, he shall make himself known. without missing a beat, your phone buzzed in your pocket and you took it out to read the text he had sent

yeosangie: still coming tn? gonna be short staffed and i’d die without you!

you pressed your lips together, laughing lightly to yourself as you read his dramatic text. the plans in question were you helping him bartend an event the pub he worked at was having, a new rising rock band would be playing there tonight which meant more business. in a way, in hindsight, meant a good deal but being understaffed out of all days made you watch your best friend lose his mind even before getting there.

you didn’t have any mixology skills, hell, even making hot chocolate at times came out different and at times.. watery, you surely did not have any sort of touch that could make any pleasing but yeosang insisted and you’d be just taking down anything being asked for and serving while he did the mixing and preparing.

you: yes sangie, i’m still coming lmao don’t be so dramatic!

yeosangie: ugh i’m being realistic!

with another light laugh, you shoved your phone back into your pocket and got up, making sure you had all of your things before heading out of the building. it was sunny, having to use your hand to shield your eyes while you made your way to the parking lot. you could feel your phone buzz again, assuming it was yeosang again but you weren’t able to think twice of it when your arm bumped into another

“watch where you’re going,” the voice was a bit harsh, not glancing back to where you were. you turned to their direction, he seemed in a rush to get inside which made you scowl. of course you all had places to be, but why did he get a pass to be rude?

“asshole,” you muttered under your breath, not wanting to let the blonde stranger dampen your mood and continued the route to your car

“he could have been having a bad day.” yeosang suggested while leaned back against the glass door, watching how you paced back and forth. you paused your movements to point over at him, “i was too but you don’t see me going all,” you cleared your throat and shifted your body to mimick how the stranger was, “watch it,” letting your voice drop a few octaves

yeosang pressed his lips together, as if trying to stifle his laugh, “is that how it went?”

you deadpanned, looking at him, “thats beyond the point!” you then groaned

sure, you weren’t entirely an asshole, you would have understood if the stranger had a bad day. but dear lord, all of your understanding went out the window the second he opened his mouth and you were glad you’d never see him again. “what do i gotta help with tonight?” you decided to steer the conversation before you got yourself too fired up again

yeosang clicked his tongue, lifting himself off the door so he could get behind the bar, “help me serve them, simple.” he shrugged, “i underestimated because this place is gonna be packed.” he cringed

“who even is the band anyways?” you asked while bringing in a box of different liquors, huffing as soon as you set it down onto the countertop, dusting your hands off on your worn-out jeans

“halazia,” he replied with a shrug, “wooyoung’s new project,” he added in and you laughed a little

“another one?” you tilted your head

yeosang nods, “but this one actually pulled through.”

and you nodded back as a response. you knew wooyoung the same amount as you knew yeosang, the two were practically a two for one deal and wherever yeosang went, wooyoung followed. it wasn’t a surprise that yeosang found a way to have wooyoung’s new band to play here, part of you also felt proud of the fact after the many attempts, wooyoung finally achieved what he strived for.

yet, another part of you hated how jealously bubbled in your core. when was it your turn?

the club was alive with the sound of loud rock music that played, the walls were practically shaking with each booming note. you could feel the bass in your chest from where you were behind the bar, hurriedly serving drinks to customers that were definitely not making it easier. shit, you swore you had a few spilled on you and felt sticky.

yeosang helped pour shots and took majority of the drinks to make while the crowd was wild, jumping and moshing to the music, you could have sworn you saw a few stage divers and crowd surfers. the smell of sweat and alcohol was thick in the air, yeosang glanced over at you as he handed over a tray of shots. "you holding up okay?" he yelled over the music.

you nodded, a bead of sweat dripping down your forehead. "i’m managing!”

you didn’t get to see the band or say hello to wooyoung as you maybe hoped, and you doubted you’d be able to enjoy the music with how business was being. “i’m glad you’re here! i would have definitely died,” yeosang said as he let out a breath, moving past you with a tray of filled to the top shots to a group

“oh yeah, i guess you were being realistic after all,” you poked fun as you ran your hands through your hair, ruffling it a bit and wiping the sweat with the back of your hand after while you heard him give an ‘i told you so!’

as you continued on, you could hear the loud vocals that were hitting you in the chest — you managed to steal a few glances to the stage where you noticed the band certainly deserved the hype, wooyoung knew what he was doing this time, you assumed he learned from past mistakes. speaking of, there he was in all his glory playing the bass with his signature charming smile as he mouthed the lyrics and interacted with the crowd, drenched in sweat and water he poured on himself during the last song

but your eyes couldn’t stay on him, oh no, your sight kept falling onto the lead vocalist who played the bass and belted the lyrics, the vein in his neck showing just how much power he was pouring to the crowd. “who is that?” you voiced over the music, leaning towards yeosang who followed your gaze

“kim hongjoong,“ yeosang answered as he let out a breath, relieved to be able to rest for a moment. “only spoke with him a few times, closed off guy but powerful as fuck on stage.”

you nodded as you let your gaze linger back to him, how free and at home he looked as he sang, “this is a wasteland, my only retreat.. with heaven above you, there’s hell over me.”

you couldn’t remember how the rest of the night went, most of it was a blur when you began helping yeosang pack up, “so how was that?” he amused, zipping up his bag as he glanced up at you

humming, you let out a breathy laugh, leaning back against the wall, “it was.. something.” you folded your arms over your chest, “we’re just waiting for wooyoung now, huh?”

and yeosang replies in a nod, “as usual.”

as if his name was a summoning ritual, wooyoung’s loud laugh became more prominent from the back, and there he was walking in with three others — one being the blonde you found yourself drawn to more than you’d want to admit

“ah, there’s my favorite artist!” wooyoung beamed as he ran over, leaving the three behind to rush over to you with his arms out

“hey woo,” you greeted with a smile as you let him engulf you in the tightest hug, the smell of his cologne suffocating your nose, it was safe to say he drenched himself after the show and you could see he was still lightly glazed with sweat. “alright! off! you’re still sweaty,” you exaggerated while giving him a tiny shove

wooyoung replied with a laugh and dragged out whine, “a little sweat never hurt anyone,” he huffed before ruffling your hair

“oh, yeah guys this is seonghwa and mingi,” wooyoung first introduced the two that caught up, seonghwa having some of his hair up and the rest down, his hair strands more pulled out at the front to frame his face, he certainly rocked that choker better than anyone you knew while mingi looked as if he was made for this genre

“nice to meet you,” seonghwa greeted with a polite grin, bowing as you smiled in response

“yeah, thanks for coming too,” mingi smiled

while you listened to them all talk, wooyoung being the one you heard the most, your eyes wandered to the back where you saw hongjoong on his phone, cigarette between his lips as he stayed apart from the rest. you weren’t sure why he was alone, eyebrow raised.

but your chest felt a bit heavier and breath hitched when he tilted his head and shifted to meet your gaze, blowing the smoke in the air. how could he make death look so marvelous?

“yah! joong, you can’t smoke in here, i’m not getting in trouble because of you,” yeosang broke the trance you were in as he scolded the blonde who rolled his eyes and took another long drag

“fine,” he exhaled, glancing at you before making his way out, blowing out the smoke as he pushed open the door and walked out

turning your attention back to the group, your brows furrowed together, “is he always like that?” and you wanted to simply ask if he was always an asshole but for the sake of being civil…

seonghwa sighed, “he’s not so bad, he just had a tough morning.”

mingi snickered, nodding while wooyoung groaned, “yeah but he made practice ten times more hard! all because of that girl he bumped into,”

“ah, sounds like your morning, y/n” yeosang humored as he grabbed his jacket

and you wanted to scowl, eyes glancing back to the window where you saw him focused on the nightsky, exhaling the smoke that he inhaled. “so he’s the asshole stranger.”

of course, makes sense.

“he’s not so bad once you get to know him,” seonghwa repeated with a reassuring smile

you shrugged, “and pigs can fly.” you muttered because certainly first impressions matter to you and with the pretty rockstar, he managed to have two and failed them both miserably

you just hoped you’d never have to see his stupid pretty face again.

masterlist . . next

[thecomfywriter]

🦢 oc profile tag 🦢

howdy yall! back with another tag list game. This one, I know for a fact @willtheweaver and @paeliae-occasionally tagged me in this, since i put it in the drafts. Everyone else that tagged me... I'm sorry. It got drownt away in the other notifications 😔 HOWEVER I do appreciate the tag and I promise I will not be as tardy as i have been this week with future tag posts. I just went on a week long hiatus due to busy personal/academia life and releasing tov.

By the way, if you haven't heard yet-- Throne of Vengeance, Volume 1, Is available for preorder! So far, it is only the ebook, but look out for updates on when the paperback will be available (soon!) But anyway, you can preorder the eBook here :)

Anyhow, I'll be answering for Evan and Faer (thank you to my beloved @wyked-ao3 and my best friend for the suggestions). Okay, without further ado...

-- <3 --

Name: Evan

Nickname: Little Flame, Little Leaf, Golden Boy

Kind of being: Cairoyas, avatar of a god, Jomeraz, Singer

Age: 0-25 (you follow his life)

Sex: Male

Appearance: dark brown/black with hidden red streaks/highlights, bronzy golden tanned skin, bright gold eyes, full lips

Occupation: Prince, Healer, Solider, Spy, El'Hycan, El’Nooz

Family members: Elenfa (sister), Fawn (sister), Alan (father), Caramel (mother), Noctem (manny/pseudo-brother), Bimyllis (pseudo-mother), Rose (god-sister), Riyzela (pseudo-cousin), Raheer (pseuo-cousin)

Pets: Mareon (name of his shapeshifting horse), Falc (name of his hawk)

Best friend: Faer, Qatya

Describe his/her room: large chambers, pentagonal shaped room, large bathhouse, dome shaped ceiling covered in animation murals, centre crescent bed, library in the left corner, study in right corner, large fireplace and reading area, gemstone shrine, walk-in closet

Way of speaking: Accent, poetic when he wants to be pretentious, slang otherwise

Physical characteristics (posture, gestures, attitude): tall, proper princely posture, easy smile, dimpled, lax attitude, charming, acts and walks like a dancer, emotes, fluid movements, coy smiles, raised brows, he licks his teeth and bites his lips before he smiles ('Noctem smile')

Items in his/her back pocket/purse: diamond, amethyst, gold, earrings, feather

Hobbies: gemstone collecting, fashion, writing love letters, dancing, learning magic, medicine, sparring, jumps into volcano, curse out the gods, pester faer

Favorite sports: swordfighting, rockclimbing/hiking, swimming, armstraining

Talents, abilities, powers: singing, dancing, inventing magic, surviving, light magic, all singer magic

Relationships (how he/she is with other people): extrovert, charming, charismatic, wooing, accidentally flirty, goofy, unserious, unfocused

Fears: smiling, reflections, blood, food, water, heights, losing control, dragons, skeletons, carcasses, sleep, disappointing people, being forgotten, being overshadowed by his sister, being disowned, nyla

Faults: uses people as "blank slates", never fully honesty, hides his pain constantly, falls in love and forgets about himself as an individual,

Good points: everything. i love this man. he's funny, powerful, strong, charming, goofy, fashionable, unserious, trifler, menace, caring, compassionate, sweet, romantic, kindhearted, softie

What he/she wants more than anything else: to never hurt anyone (ever again), to be a healer, to not be afraid anymore, wants the best for nyla, he wants the freedom to be happy, freedom, to reconnect with his family and actually have a relationship with them, his father's approval, he wants his mom to know his name

--

Name: Faer

Nickname: Vaza-ek, the Prodigy

Kind of being: Arcanic, Cairoyas

Age: 3 (introduction) - 27 (last appearance)

Sex: Female

Appearance: icy brown eyes, Warrior dots around eyes and brows, thick angular brows, silky brown hair that smells like pomegranates (typically keeps it in a braid), beige skin, muscular (especially her shoulder/deltoids)

Occupation: huntress, soldier, evan's bodyguard, evan's best friend

Family members: Donovan (twin brother), Dad (unnamed), Mom (unnamed)

Pets: N/A

Best friend: Khos ja Evan, Qatya

Describe his/her room: within an Arcanic temple

Way of speaking: like she's over someone's bullshit (probably Evan's)

Physical characteristics (posture, gestures, attitude): militant, values her personal space, strict, focused, detailed-oriented, observant

Items in his/her back pocket/purse: bows, arrows, weapons, poison, gloves, vial, food, napkin (2x), handcuffs, rope, money, blessing coins

Hobbies: archery, sparring, poetry, praying, divination, temple-keeping, record keeping, reading

Favorite sports: archery, running, sparring (armstraining), throwing rocks

Talents, abilities, powers: put evan in his place (discipline this menace), Arcanic magic, huntress (hunt magical species dragons), soldier, archery/armstraining, praying/arcanic prayers, booking, ride/tame dragons, tracking

Relationships (how he/she is with other people): bisexual; stiff, introverted, professional, non-affectionate, reserved, sarcastic, witty, intelligent conversation

Fears: being like her father (becoming an M), failing her duty, losing Donovan, failing to become an Inen

Faults: puts duty over her relationships, closed off, trust issues, refuses to show affection, tends to neglect her partners, SHE GOES FOR SIBLINGS 😭 (not intentionally, but it's happened often enough that its a pattern. she'll go for one sibling and then end up falling for the other one)

Good points: extremely loyal, strong, dutiful, disciplined, poetic, intelligent, compassionate, patient, kind, focused, intellectual, observant, curious, resilient, brave

What he/she wants more than anything else: to become an Inen, to protect her family (Evan included)

-- <3 --

Alrighty folks! That's it for today. Thank you again for the tags guys, and sorry I have not unburied all the people who have tagged me. I do appreciate you 1000x over <3

Also, I don't know if I should do an introduction post for my other wips? I was thinking of opening up my inbox and doing a "WIP/OC Ask Game" for my other projects, since I'm currently a bit obsessed with CoS and TIS, but I also still have to finish all my tag games AND the official character intros for the main cast of ToV. Oh well. womp womp.

Alrighty! I'll leave this one as an + open tag as well, only because, again, I am late to the party.

Toodles!

✧༺♥༻∞

If you want to know more about the lore I've already discussed behind my books, refer to the following posts below:

Throne of Vengeance Lore (General)

TCW Blog Navigation Guide

TCW Writing Bar Discord -> i may be whoops on tumblr but i am less whoops on discord, so come hither!

I'll tag the TCW crew under the line. Cheerios!

✧༺♥༻∞

Happy Writing!

TCW Crew:

@lunaeuphternal @the-golden-comet @renasdoodles

@drchenquill @zackprincebooks @wyked-ao3

@toragay-writing @the-letterbox-archives

@kind-lion @mysticstarlightduck @agirlandherquill

@storyteller-kara @dahliaontherun @writingismydrugs

@authorcoledipalo @sm-writes-chaos @illarian-rambling

@pexchys @an-indecisive-nerd @thelovelymachinery

[masha-nikita]

Better have a good enemy than a crazy friend (cont.)

I re-used Rommel from a previous work, because I like this Rommel but dissatisfied with the other work :/

Two Scorpios. INTERESTING.

The whole thing started with this post. The said friend finally agrees to help a little bit with fanfic. She doesn't speak English and I'm clueless with omegaverse; that is a problem LOL.

Here goes nothing.

They’ve been through this ritual for… how many days now? Making love in abandonment till the slim golden dawn undulates across the desert’s pale dunes. The intercourse continues well into morning hours, when the sun begins to burn their fragrant skins a little, and the inside of Rommel’s lower belly laden with his enemy’s alpha seeds.

“Indeed, this grand scenery does not exist in Europe.” Monty says as he sits up, “here, in Africa, this is the hill I am willing to die on.” Then, he smiles at his own military humor. Rommel lazily eyes him, still basking in post-coital bliss. He could only make out “Europe” and “Africa” from the other man’s monologue.

Montgomery along with his squad captured Rommel when the daring Fox got too close to the British base, during a foolhardy scouting mission with limited supplies of his necessary medicines. Once Montgomery accidentally triggered his enemy’s omega response, the Fox becomes Monty’s willing POW-- even his iron will had to bend before this primitive drive. Rommel knew it was his own blunder, and a terrible one. He has no right to complain.

Rommel grabs the English man’s hand and places it on his abdomen, muttering a few German words. Monty playfully wanders his hand downwards between his thighs. The Fox snaps it back, places Monty’s hand, yet again, on his flat belly. Seeing Montgomery in the mood of messing around, Rommel gives up communication, punches him squarely in the face, gets up, collects his clothes, promptly walks off towards the general direction of the Afrika Korps.

Montgomery does not treat him like a POW. It’s his own blunder. Rommel thinks to himself in utter frustration.

“Wait! I apologize! What is it you want to say? I'm listening!” Montgomery catches up to him, his face freshly swollen from the punch. He has nothing on him but his iconic black beret and underwear, a rather pathetic sight for this good general, but one that gives Rommel the illusion that the otherworldly love between enemies is possible.

Rommel sighs, damn this language barrier, damn that this barrier is powerless against enemy penetration into his soul. He carefully brings out a medal from his uniform front pocket, places it in Montgomery’s palm. It is both small and light and incredibly heavy, its color creamy porcelain blue.

“I am a man of duty, both to my country and my wife. I cannot further blacken my already tainted conscience.” He says, in a tongue he knows the other man does not comprehend, “But I do owe you. I’ll bring this child to you and reclaim my honor, eventually. I’ll be a part of their life until the very end of mine. This embodies my highest promise to you.”

Montgomery could tell it is the renowned Pour le Merite, prized treasure of all the 3rd Reich's officers. His heart sinks a little.

“Here.” Monty takes the golden badge off his beret, his movements clumsy with haste. “This represents me, all those politicians, and the civilians back in London recognize my status by this symbol. May it be with you, as though I am with you.”

“Thank you.” In a low voice, he speaks the only English he knows. Rommel's intention is to come back for his medal, but Monty has a hunch, they'll never see each other again.

///

Tension runs high in the OKH headquarters. Both Halder and von Brauchitsch are absent. Hitler throws the papers flying across the mahogany table. Apart from that, the room is eerily silent.

“I am not going to approve of your discharge, Field Marshal Erwin Rommel.”

“Since I am also implicated in the conspiracy case, Führer, I…”

“Don’t Führer me, you traitor, you whore!” Hitler snaps at him, already showing signs of nervous breakdowns, “Goebbel has been working his head off to promote you as our Reich’s prominent alpha hero! Only a few of us knew what you really are. You have that little extra bit to make you a whore.”

“There never have been any intention in my heart to betray you, Führer . I am speaking with my soldierly honor and utmost honesty. You knew me.”

“You used to be my personal security, but that was in the past. I don’t think I know you anymore.”

True, the trust has been broken completely. Rommel holds loyalty to his country, but not to this angry mess in front of him. Not anymore.

The Führer’s bloodshot eyes darts around his neck: “where is your blue cross Pour le Merite? What is that thing on your chest?”

“It is Field Marshal's gold wire embroidered badge…” Rommel paused, “of the British Army.”

“so you are literally in bed with Bernard Montgomery. I mean, physically and who knows what else, Is that so?”

Rommel understands at this point, in Hitler’s eyes, it is further confirmation of high treason. This whole conversation is a demonstration of his political naivety.

“Who else knows about this... scandal? Does Von Rundstedt know? Your wife Lucy?” Hitler motions the slightly visible bump in Rommel’s belly. Rommel shivers in disgust. He feels exposed.

“My trustworthy chief of staff Alfred Gause does. No one else.”

“Gause runs a good staff. He does not keep a good eye on you for me, however.” Hitler coldly comments, “Does HE know? I mean, the other father.”

“I cannot confirm that.” Rommel whispers.

“I bet that Brit doesn’t speak even a little bit of German. You may as well fuck all day and not exchange a word.” The Führer’s voice is loaded with irony. Rommel falls into a grey silence, a hint of red flies onto his cheeks.

“Old friend,” Hitler changes his tone, a manipulator that he is, “I could still find it in me to forgive you, on one condition: you take a bite of one of these bitter medicines.”

Two black boxes, one contains a cyanide pill, the other an abortion tablet.

“Choose, it’s Führer’s order.”

Rommel chooses; hands steady, his gaze dark. The choices are cruel, but one of them allows him to not break his promise. He’s a man of duty, after all.

“Don’t you beg for mercy?”

“I obey your order, mein Führer.”

He leaves with the pill option. An SS officer escorts him outside.

Friend- Hehe I am satisfied with the historical accuracy.

Me-

[sparrowsage]

Revenge, Part One: Ghosts of the Past

Hello! I know I haven't posted in while. I've had some major stuff pop up in my personal life, but things are on the mend! This is the first part in a mini series that takes place six months after the end of Warehouse. It's very far out in the timeline for the Warehouse series, but my brain wanted to write this, so here it is! I'd like to give a special thanks to @oddsconvert and @darkthingshappen for the mention of their oc's Henley Allen from A Taste of Your Own Medicine and Agent Vaughn from Brothers Keeper. And I'd also like to thank them as well as @whumpcereal and @flowersarefreetherapy for their support as I wrote this! I got the inspiration and motivation for this piece from day four of the Merry Whump of May event as well and it was a ton of fun!

TW: Vague mentions of past captivity, vague mentions and implied past noncon, kidnapping, noncon drugging, mentions of past character death, threatened murder (if I missed any, let me know and I'll add them!)

MWoM Prompt: Day 4 “Forgettable, ‘Who are you?’ Lamp, Alleyway” 

If Sparrow would have been asked when he was teen where he thought he’d be when he was an adult, his response wouldn’t be what you’d expect. As far as he knew, he was going to be in the Warehouse facility for the rest of his life, or with some random person who had bought him if he ever got to the point of being sold. Not once did he ever think that he’d be living with a close and trusted friend, free to make his own decisions, able to finally carve out a life for himself of his own free will. 

It had been six months since the Warehouse had gotten raided. Six months since Damon had tried to escape the facility with him in tow. Six months since he was reunited with his friends and finally free from the hell he never thought he’d be away from. 

Sparrow snapped out of his thoughts as he heard his friend giggle, looking over to him as Felix spun around in a small circle, arms outstretched. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve been able to go and see a live show like that!” he exclaimed. “Thank you for coming with me.” 

Sparrow gave his friend a soft smile, putting his hands in his pockets as they walked back to their apartment building. “Thanks for offering to take me. I’ve never seen something like that! I’m surprised they have all those lines and stuff memorized, it looked like a lot!” 

Felix nodded, looking up at the clear night sky above them for a moment before looking back at his friend. “It’s their job, and it does take a lot of work, but it’s totally worth it. I’ve often had thoughts of trying to get into theater like that, but I think my stage fright would get in the way of it all.” 

Sparrow chuckled, giving Felix a light nudge as they continued on their way, “With how often I hear you singing in the apartment, I know you’d do great!” 

Sparrow let out a sigh, recalling the memories. It had been a whirlwind to try and get things back on track once he was released from the hospital this time. He still had weekly therapy appointments with Alex, but it had been more difficult to fall back into old routine with Felix this time around. There had been a short period of time where there were awkward conversations when the two interacted, both from Felix’s guilt over the invitation Damon had sent out and Sparrow not showing Felix the invite before he left amongst other things. Over time, they had talked things out and their friendship only got stronger from there. Henley still came by frequently as well, often spending a lot of time with Sparrow when he was free, which Sparrow appreciated. The two of them would help teach Sparrow how to read and write alongside teaching him about other things while also having some fun. 

At the thought of Henley, Sparrow took his hand out of his jacket pocket, looking at the digital watch Henley had given him a few months back. 

“Hey, it’s already 10:43. Do you think Henley would mind much if we moved movie night to tomorrow?” he asked. 

Felix looked at his own watch in return before looking at Sparrow, “I don’t think he’d mind. We did warn him the show may run late and he seemed fine with the possibility of postponing movie night. We’ll text him when we get home.” 

Sparrow hummed in agreement, putting his hand back in his pocket as they continued home, looking around the street as they walked. Due to how late it was, there weren’t any people out and about, the only lights coming from the lamp posts lining the sidewalks and the light up signs in the shop windows, long since closed for the day. 

Being outside at night was something that Sparrow had never realized he’d appreciate so much. Sure, there was anxiety lurking in the shadows, often keeping the man on edge, but nights like this where he could look up at the clear sky and see the glittering stars and enjoy the light breeze and inhale the nightly air, it felt freeing. 

As the two passed by a dark alleyway, some rustling caught Sparrow’s attention. He paused his steps, Felix looking back at him a few seconds later when he realized his friend wasn’t beside him. “Sparrow, you alright?” 

Sparrow stared into the dark alleyway, trying to see what was hidden in the shadows before shaking his head slightly to clear it. “Y-yeah, just thought I heard something is all.” 

Just as he was about to continue walking, a voice called out to them, “P-please help me.” 

The two hesitated, giving each other a look before Felix hesitantly approached the entryway to the alley. “Are you alright sir?” Felix asked. 

“Do either of you have some spare cash, or some change?” the voice asked, his voice sounding rough and raspy. 

Felix squinted as he hovered at the edge of the alleyway, trying to make out whoever was talking to them. “I-I’m sorry, but we don’t have any cash on us.” 

“That’s quite alright,” the voice responded. There was something about the voice that seemed off to Sparrow, but he couldn’t place it. There couldn’t be a way for Sparrow to know that voice, but the fact that it sounded familiar ate away at him the more the stranger spoke. 

“Felix, we should be getting back home,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. He didn’t want to scare Felix just because he felt uneasy. It was probably nothing. 

“Could you just help me up, sir? Before you leave? I have a bad knee.” 

Felix looked back at Sparrow for a moment before he stepped into the alleyway, the shadows swallowing him, “U-uhm, yeah sure.” 

From Sparrow’s spot on the street, he kept an eye on the dark alleyway, expecting Felix to come out seconds later, but all he heard was rustling before a muffled shout came from the shadows. 

“Felix?” Sparrow asked, taking a step towards the alley, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. 

Something was wrong. 

Sparrow heard some more rustling and a bit of muffled cries before he spotted a figure in the shadows of the alleyway. 

“You should teach your friend to be more careful. Helping the wrong stranger is going to get him into trouble,” the figure said. 

“Who are you and what do you want?” Sparrow asked, his body frozen in place on the sidewalk. 

The figure started walking forward towards him, an unmistakable limp to his step that made the blood in Sparrow’s face run cold, further cementing him to the sidewalk. 

This can’t be him, Sparrow thought. He didn’t remember Agent Vaughn telling him about some Keeper’s getting free from the raid. He thought that since his name didn’t get brought up in the court case or the fact that he didn’t see him in court meant that he died during the raid. 

“I bet you’re surprised, aren’t you?” the man asked, the light from the lamp posts illuminating his face as he stepped out of the alleyway. “Because who would have thought that you’d be seeing me, of all people, again after so much time.” 

“What do you want with us, Logan?” Sparrow asked again, his voice low but lined with fear. 

“You’re in no place to be demanding answers here, Sparrow. You should know that. Has living outside the facility for six months really put you back so much on your training?” 

Sparrow’s hands balled into fists at his side as he tried to figure out an answer. Logan took the hesitation of an answer to motion whoever was behind him in the alleyway to step forward, causing Sparrow’s breath to hitch. 

Five more people stepped out of the alleyway, one of which had Felix flush against his chest, a hand clamped over his mouth while the other held his wrists behind his back. Felix looked at Sparrow with a scared expression, his whole body trembling as his eyes started to water. 

“It’s been hard, these last six months, you know,” Logan started, slowly walking towards Sparrow. “Having to hide from the police all because the facility got shut down. They’d arrest us on sight if anyone found us. But you know what kept us going?” 

Sparrow let out a low and quiet growl as Logan got close to him, taking a small step back as Logan leaned in close. “Finding a way to get back at the person who ruined the entire operation.” 

“Felix wasn’t the one who took down the Warehouse, the FBI did,” Sparrow said, his gaze flickering between Logan and Felix. “You have no business with him.” 

Logan straightened himself as he faked a look of thought. “You’re right, it wasn’t the runt who got the Warehouse shut down, not in full. But he played a part in it.” 

“Vaughn was the one who found the place, not Felix.” 

“Yeah, that fucking agent found the place, but you know who went crying to the FBI when you didn’t return home that night you went to that party? Him. And why did he go to the FBI? Because you managed to escape and make friends, connections, something of which you had no right doing. He cared about you so much that he did everything he could to find you and get you back safely. If you hadn't defied orders and escaped the facility ten months ago, then we wouldn’t be here now.” 

This wasn’t good, Sparrow didn’t know what to do! If it were just him facing off against these guys, he’d fight back, but with Felix trapped, Sparrow couldn’t risk his friend getting hurt all because of his actions. 

“Just let him go, Logan,” Sparrow tried, a hint of desperation leaking into his voice. “You have issue with me, not him. Let him go and we can work this out.” 

At that, Logan let out a laugh, as did the other men standing around them, causing Felix to squeak in fear at the sound. “You think it’s that easy, pleading with me to let your friend go? And that I’m here for you? I often forget that you’re not that fucking smart when it comes to how the real world works. We came here for him and you just so happened to be with him. We’ve had our eyes set on this runt for months, we just needed the perfect moment to grab him, and what better night than tonight!” 

Sparrow glared at Logan as he spoke, trying to work out a way to get them both out of here safely, but anything he thought of wouldn’t work. In every idea he thought of, Felix would get hurt and Sparrow couldn’t let that happen. 

Logan looked around the empty street for a moment, turning on the spot to look back at his men and Felix, who stared back at Logan in fear. “Get him ready to transport, we’ve spent enough time here.” 

At the word ‘transport’, Sparrow started towards the men around Felix, anger and fear powering his limbs. “Don’t you fucking touch him!” he shouted, lunging for the closest man that was around his friend. 

Before he could get very far, three of the remaining four men pounced on Sparrow, quickly grabbing onto him as the fourth man grabbed a prepped syringe from his pocket. Felix started squirming the moment Sparrow was grabbed, just about missing the needle headed straight for his arm. He let out a loud but muffled yelp as the needle was jabbed into his arm, causing Sparrow to struggle even harder, but it was no use. The three men holding onto him were too strong and he was very outmatched. 

Amongst his struggles, Sparrow watched as Felix started to grow limp, his eyes slipping shut as the drug he was injected with took hold of him, forcing him into an unwanted sleep. Once he was under, Logan turned his full attention to Sparrow, who only continued to struggle. 

The former Keeper nodded to his men and they forced Sparrow to his knees on the ground. Sparrow let out a hiss as the gravel and pavement dug into his knees as he tried to pull his arms out of the grips that held them, but he slowed his attempts as Logan stepped closer to him, leaning down at the waist slightly. 

“I swear to god, Logan, I’m going to fucking kill you if you hurt him,” Sparrow growled as he glared at the former Keeper. 

Logan chuckled at the sight of the former pet, letting out a short sigh. “Your threats don’t work on me. Over the twenty years I worked to train you, you’ve only come close once, and that’s because I let my guard down. I’m not making any mistakes this time. You’re going to watch as I destroy your friend, bit by fucking bit, til there’s nothing left of him, and you’re going to help me do it.” 

Sparrow tried to jerk one of his arms free, his gaze never breaking from Logan as he let out a grunt at the wasted effort. “You’re fucking crazy if you think I’d willingly hurt him.” 

“Ah, well you see, I know you. You’d do anything to trade places with him, no matter the cost, and I think that seeing you get tortured in more ways than one will do just as much damage to him as if he were the one being hurt.” 

Sparrow stilled as the words registered, his expression falling for a moment. Logan was right, he’d do anything to make sure Felix didn’t bare the front of what they were about to endure, even if it meant sacrificing himself. 

“You’ve been told, time and time again by multiple people that you’re not supposed to form connections or to make friends because it isn’t your place to have feelings. Your job is to serve and please whoever owns you, doing whatever they ask of you with no hesitation. I am excited, if I’m to be honest, Sparrow. You know why that is?” 

“Why?” Sparrow asked through gritted teeth. 

“Because I get to hit you where it hurts. Just because we were going after him doesn’t mean that I won’t be paying special attention to you. You’ve caused me so much trouble ever since you were brought into the facility, especially after Damon took on your case. Now it’s my turn to level the playing field. You remember how you used to protect Jayden when he was alive? How compliant you got all because of a simple threat to his well being?” 

Logan stood then, nodding to one of the men holding Sparrow. “Well, you know that I won’t hesitate to kill your friend here if you step a toe out of line. I highly doubt that you want another one of your friends to die all because of you.” 

The mention of Jayden made the blood drain from Sparrow’s face as a new fire blazed inside of him. This wouldn’t be a repeat of what happened with Jayden, Sparrow couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let another one of his friends die by the hands of this fucking bastard. 

Just as Sparrow was about to start struggling again, he felt the pinch of a needle in his neck and a coolness spread throughout his body. As his vision started to tunnel, he looked up to see Logan start limping back into the alleyway as he started to lose feeling in his limbs.

“Let’s get these guys into the van, and don’t forget to restrain them. The runt will be out for a while, but with this shit’s tolerance, I don’t know when he’ll wake and it’ll be easier to handle him if he can’t move.” 

The last thing Sparrow remembered seeing was a set of headlights turn on far back into the alleyway and hearing an engine roar to life as the drugs dragged him under. 

Taglist: @mannerofwhump, @honey-is-mesi, @painful-pooch, @whumperfully, @hiding-in-the-shadows

@flowersarefreetherapy, @goronska, @blueyellow8green (If you want to be added, let me know!)