#aly won't shut up

[eddiediaaz]

hiiii just making this little post to say that i'll be on vacation/traveling for the next 17ish days so i won't be online much! i'll go through my tracked tag when i'm back so feel free to tag me as usual, and i'll have a queue running 🥰 i apologize in advance if you send me messages/asks/tag me and i don't reply until i come back

about the 2 anon gif requests in my askbox, i'm sorry i wasn't able to get to them before leaving, but i will get on it when i'm back at the end of may! 🫡

[spaceratprodigy]

thank u for putting up w me reblogging all my old writings today. as I treat I will give u.. faith and spencer doodle.. soon..

[alyszaen]

@zoe8stay is in love with Chan.

@l3visbby is denying it but in love with Changbin.

I am in love with Han.

We are...

Drumroll please

3WIFES

[detectivebambam]

absolutely wild to me the amount of people that don't understand Andrew's reaction to Ali hitting Aaron. it was not supposed to be an even retaliation, eye for an eye. it was meant to be a lesson. he wasn't asking for a fight, he was shutting it down before it started. the way Andrew grew up (and frankly, the way a lot of real people including me grew up,) you fight for dominance like dogs. what's mine is mine, what's yours is yours, and if you stay away from my shit, I'll stay away from yours. you cross a line, you get put back in your place. you don't fight about it, because that tells the person that as long as they can hold their own, they can get away with it. and that's not what you want. you cannot allow it to happen again, so you can't allow it to be a fight. Andrew even touches on this in the scene:

"A privileged child like you has never seen the real world. Don't speak of it like you understand."

I think it's hard for people who grew up in safe spaces around safe people to understand the kind of cruelty that you have to have to keep yourself safe in situations where someone is trying to hurt you. you don't hit back, you beat the shit out of them until you're sure they won't do it again 🤷‍♀️

[starry-bi-sky]

im having more fem Danyal thoughts. But specifically I've been thinking about Dani in this au. Now, Fem Danyal is just the alt. version of Danny to my other DAG au, which means she follows that lore. that being said. Danyal and Dani already had a pretty rocky introduction in the first place, ANd if we follow canon's setup, Dani in fem!Danyal's world would be a boy rather than a girl. I'm gonna call him Ali for easier difference (my train of thought was Daniel -> Eli -> Ali). While Danny may resemble Talia more than Bruce, Danny and Damian still look very similar to each other. Their blood relation is unquestionable.

You can imagine how fem Danyal might feel, walking into her room one day after school, and finding a little boy on her bed who looks, at first glance, like the little brother she loves to death. If meeting Ellie triggered Kill Bill Sirens in Danny's head, meeting Ali bass boosted them. For a terrifying, fleeting moment, Danny thinks Damian is right there. That somehow, her clever, intelligent little brother found out she was alive and tracked her down.

She slams the door shut, completely at a loss for words. Her heart has nearly stopped a second time. Then she realizes: this boy's eyes are blue. Not green. He looks too old to be her brother. His jawline too narrow, his hair too messy. As he talks, his voice is not the same as the sparse few videos on the internet showing Damian speaking. This is not the child she helped take his first steps with, nor the child she watched utter his first words. This is not the boy whom she taught to pick up a sword; this is not her brother.

Safe to say, Ali gets a knife pulled on him much, much faster than his female counterpart did. He lives, fortunately, but their relationship is unsteady and rocky even after Ali betrays Vlad and joins Danny.

Danny is unsettled by him, not for being her clone -- although that plays a minor part -- but because every time he drifts into her peripherals, she keeps thinking it's Damian. And it spooks her half out of her mind. She gets her hopes up at the same time her heart drops, then she turns her head, and it's not Damian; it's Dani.

It's also why she won't call him 'Dani', it's one letter too close to 'Dami' and she's afraid she'll call him that if she's not careful. So when he brings it up jokingly, she immediately shoots it down; "I'll call you Eli." instead. (Ali thinks she's boring -- he thought 'danny with a y' and 'dani with an i' was funny. Frankly, so did Danny, but she's too uncomfortable with the idea of calling him Dani.)

When he asks her why, she lies and says it's to prevent confusion. When their relationship is better, "Eli" eventually becomes "Ali".

("Why Ali?" he'll ask her, with an ear pressed against her ribs while Danny coils one of his curls around her finger. She's steadily become more and more affectionate; Danny has the impeccable ability of making it seem so forced and stiff and natural at the same time.)

("Do you not like it?" She'll ask him, voice stilted and unsure. She's got her heart in her throat, but she's starting to stop seeing Damian whenever she looks down. "We can keep it Eli if you'd like.")

("No, no. I like it. Just... why Ali? Does it mean anything?")

(Danny will smooth her palm over Ali's forehead, scratching his hairline with her nails, and feel embarrassed. She'll be silent until he looks up at her, and then she clears her throat. "It means eminent; exalted; noble.")

(Ali stares at her in dead silence, long enough that she starts to grow worried. Then tears bubble up in his eyes, and for a moment Danny thinks she said something wrong. "I lied;" he croaks, "I love it.")

(She will hesitate, and then wipe the tears off with her thumbs. "Ali al Ghul," she'll mutter, "but that name is for you and I only. To the world, you're Ali Fenton." Perhaps she shouldn't be giving him her mother's last name, but he is of her blood now too.)

[ewanmitchs]

⎯⎯ TEAR U APART [sneak peek] ┆ gif credit. ౨ৎ

༊*·˚ 𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒖𝒔’𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒍 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆, hello, lil loves. ♡! this is just a lil sneak peek of my new & first full oneshot on this blog − i hope y’all enjoy reading this lil snippet & i cannot wait to share the rest of it with u all. sending y’all sm love, xoxo. !!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

꒰ p.s. ꒱ this oneshot that i’m writing is completely based on this song linked here − if u wanna listen to it to set the vibe (if u’re an american horror story girlie, you’ll get it) + if u wanna talk & gossip abt this lil sneak peek, pls feel free to msg me, my loves. ♡ྀི

IT’S ONLY JUST A CRUSH, IT’LL GO AWAY − that’s what aemond targaryen keeps telling himself as he brutally, without mercy, fucks into the whore underneath him, hearing her whiny, annoying little cries as he abuses her loose cunt by shoving his well-endowed cock in and out, in and out, in and out.

allison? allie? alys? what was her name?

aemond couldn’t remember, nor could he give less of a fuck.

it simply does not matter right now, not when aemond is balls deep inside of this random woman, using her cunt to chase his high as he pleases, imagining that it is you − always you.

aemond cannot think straight, not when all he can focus on right now is chasing his own release, thinking of your beautiful face as it flashes in his mind − your innocent doe eyes, your luscious hair, that little charm bracelet that you always wear that jingles every time you move, your gorgeous, feminine figure, your perky breasts which he can only imagine burying his face into to kiss and suckle on your little nipples, your soft, heavenly skin which always smells of vanilla and something floral and just utterly you.

and gods, he can just imagine your glossy, pouty lips wrapped around his cock, letting him fuck your throat until he’s shooting his load down your abused throat, raw from him making you deep throat him − and oh, fuck, he’s coming now.

with only three more ruthless thrusts, aemond releases a low, deep groan as he finally spurts his hot cum into the condom, feeling the woman beneath him moaning louder and louder as she rubs her clit in quick, tight little circles, her release hitting her just as his had.

aemond wishes that she would shut the fuck up, but he isn't worried − soon, she won't be able to utter another word.

nasty fucking whore, aemond thinks.

in the woman’s state of pure, delirious ecstasy, she doesn’t even notice when aemond slyly slips out the small, sharp pocketknife of his (that’s made out of valyrian steel) out of the back of his pants − too fucked out by aemond to truly notice anything, her mind too fuzzy with her orgasmic bliss.

and no, aemond doesn’t fully undress while fucking the random women that he picks up at a bar or wherever, he never has.

aemond doesn't want any of the whores women that he picks up and sleeps with, then violently kills them to see him completely bare, they don't deserve it − the only beautiful, doe-like eyes that are meant to see him naked and bare is you and only you.

with that being said, aemond forcefully (and painfully) covers her mouth with one of his massive, masculine hands, rough and calloused, watching with amusement as he slits her throat with a heavy-lidded eye, his one-eye crazed and dilated, filled with bloodlust − not just from his post orgasm, but from the crimson blood squirting from the dumb whore’s throat.

aemond smirks, leaning down, getting blood on himself, making his cock harden once again − before he is whispering darkly into her ear as she tries to clutch the deep slit on her throat, gasping desperately for breath, choking on her own blood.

aemond cannot help but release a little, breathless chuckle, watching as the life slowly fades away from her.

“you’re nothing but a nasty, little fucking whore,” he purrs into her ear, pressing his face into the deep slit on her throat, licking a stripe of the oozing blood, softly humming at the taste as he muffles the gurgling noises she makes with his hand once more − until eventually, she stops breathing.

truthfully, even while all of this mess is happening right before his eye, all aemond can think about is you, and the taste of the sharp, metallic taste of that whore’s blood, so tart and whorish − and fuck, aemond can only imagine what your sweet blood tastes like.

however, aemond isn’t too worried, he can be patient − besides, soon enough, he’ll get to taste your sweetness, and then, you’ll be his… forever.

∘ ∘ ∘ cont,

[frickingnerd]

a second chance for life

pairing: luka couffaine / viperion x gn!reader

summary: you take a hit that was meant for viperion and bleed to death in his arms. but he's not giving up on you, even when things seem impossible…

tags: a lot of implied stuff, angst with a happy ending, reader dies, viperion rewinds time, mentions of blood, reader & luka know each other's identities, (best) friend!luka, reader crying

“l-luka…?” tears were rolling down your cheeks, as viperion cradled you in his arms. you were bleeding heavily and despite trying to stop the bleeding, nothing seemed to work. “it hurts… so bad.”

luka's heart broke seeing you like this.

“i wish i knew how to make it stop…” he whispered, gently wiping the tears off your cheek. “just hold on… please, keep fighting a little longer.”

“i'm so…” your eyelids began to flutter, your breathing getting more hectic. “…t-tired.”

“no, stay awake! don’t close your–” but it was already too late. you never heard the end of luka's words, as your eyes fell shut before he could finish and you stopped breathing.

luka softly held you in his arms, simply staring at your lifeless body. this didn't feel real yet. just an hour ago, the two of you were laughing together at his place, talking about what you'd do on the weekends. then suddenly, an akumatized villain showed up and when you shielded an attack meant for luka, you ended up getting killed.

“this isn't fair…” luka whispered, his grip around you tightening. “it should've been me. if i could rewind time, i'd–”

but he had already used his miraculous. he could only rewind time once, those were the rules. yet despite knowing better, luka's hand found its way to the bracelet, praying that if miracles truly existed, that he'd be blessed with one. just rewinding time once, to make sure you'd make it. with a trembling hand, he twisted the bracelet…

“viperion…?”

before he knew it, he stood right where the battle had begun moments earlier. and by his side were you, nervously smiling at him, as you noticed that your partner had been lost in thoughts.

“you–” luka didn't find the right words, simply wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug so tight that it almost squeezed the life out of you. “you're… alive.”

“of course i am ali–” you laughed confused, before the weight of his words suddenly sunk in. “wait… did i…?”

luka pulled away from you, trying to avoid telling you about what he'd seen before he rewind time. but it was clear that the mere thought of it terrified you deeply.

“you'll be alright. i've seen the future and i know what i'll have to do to protect you.” luka stated firmly, gently squeezing your hand, in hopes to reassure you of his words. “i won't lose you another time, i promise.”

[jolapeno]

the yearly round up

so, i am not someone who tends to toot their own horn a lot, but i thought i could be forgiven since it's my birthday. if there were a party, i'd maybe give a speech, right? so, instead of talking about myself, i thought id talk about my work and some of my fave things I've written this year and a little bit as to why. for this list, i have not included late night texts purely because i gave it a lot of love on my last secret birthday. and equally, as do me yourself comes to a close during this one, i feel it's having such a hot moment in the sun, i didn't want to bore everyone. also because if you ask me anything about dmy i won't shut the fuck up. to ask anything about these just add an 🍊.

anytime javier p x f!reader

best friends who go to a wedding only to realise they're in love? sounds like jo. this story fell out of me upon seeing a moodboard by /wildemaven and god i love them. i think about them so often and it makes me want to write him like this again. just fun, easy. it helped me find my nerve to tackle him again after a break when LNT finished, so it was nice to hang with him again.

in my room javier p x f!reader

this idea lived in my head for so long, it went through so many variations until we landed on this. i loved writing it because i hadn't written him like this, and how closed off they both were was so much fun. not having a resolved ending was tough to, but it was also really nice?

i like the way you frankie m x f!reader

would it even be a list if i don't include this? it's a work that on the surface might just feel like a lot of fun. and it is, for sure. but also this fic really taught me a lot and helped create a new relationship with sex. i won't bore or dwell on sad things, but even with therapy, a solid and healthy relationship, this fic helped heal some lasting wounds with my relationship with sex. all through the eyes of two friends who were just trying not to confess they loved one another. so very jo.

up sky, low high frankie m x f!reader

im not sure why this man makes me write some incredible smut (IMO, ofc) but he does??? this one wouldn't exist without @morallyinept urging me on, because honestly i wouldn't have had the guts without her convincing me. but, god i think about this fic a lot? i write a lot of lovely romance, but the romance in this with the smut? i never EVER thought id find that balance. and i did, have, yay!

be good, be you joel miller x f!reader

never in a million years did i think this would have been so popular. and that's not why it's on this list. it's on this list because i lived with this fic for weeks. every bit of rain the UK we had, i thought of this. anyone who knows me, knows how much i love bill + frank joel, so this was like giving into an idea that i thought would only live in my head. and now, it's there, and I'm not ashamed to say i re-read it a lot.

meet you once, saw you thrice lucien flores x f!reader

who'd have thought this would make this list? not me. but it has, and god. i really tested myself with this one. creating him was days of churning over interviews of other actors, of finding who he is in the centre of fucking nothing. and then pouring my heart into it for lovely @pedgito and god am i grateful that's the moodboard i was given. i was terrified (ali will attest) but now i am so proud of it. i love it, and him. I'm almost terrified now to see the movie and watch this version die and wilt hahaha.

din and the travelling of planets din djarin x f!reader

not a one shot, but a collection, because i spent longer trying to choose than i did dwelling on choosing the rest and writing this post. i never thought id step back into star wars, but i'm so glad i did. din and his girl, seeing different planets together, letting us see the world through her eyes. there's a lot of my writing I'm proud of, but I'm most proud of the lines in this. because i get to describe in a way where i don't feel its redundant. because we're seeing it at the same time as she is. i also have so much fun each time i get to write him, and that, makes me happy.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Drawn to you | Pt. 9 - The End

(A/N) I am truly sorry that there hasn't been a update in what feels like forever. Uni has been hell, but at least it's over soon! Anyway, I hope you liked this series, and don't worry, this won't be the last time you see Alastor on my blog. If you want to read anything specific, just shoot me a request!

Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: fluff

Synopsis: Happy End

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Hell - now

Your eyes slowly fluttered open, peering up at Alastor. His eyes were shut tightly, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks as quiet sobs wrecked through his body. If you could read his mind, you would’ve heard him calling himself every vile name he could think of. You slowly raised your hands until they were cupping his face, twisting your body out of his grip until you were straddling him.

“Ali?”

His eyes snapped open, the red shining slightly brighter at the irritation from crying. His face was twisted into a frown while his eyes were filled with regret and unsaid apologies,

“My love…”

Your lips pulled into a sad smile as you pulled his head down against your chest. At that moment, he let loose. Sobs fell from his lips while tears escaped his tightly shut eyes. His body was shaking, his clawed hands holding you as tight as possible. The shirt he had changed you into after he had saved you from the Vee’s slowly grew wetter as you held him against you, quietly shushing and trying to comfort him. It took a few minutes for Alastor to calm down.

“I’m so sorry, my love.”

You pressed a longing kiss against the crown of his head and smiled as he raised his head to look at you.

“There is nothing to apologize for, my heart. I’m just glad you remember now.”

He shook his head, glancing down at the floor as shame radiated off him before he glanced at you again.

“I shouldn’t have forgotten in the first place. I should’ve recognized you the moment you knocked on these doors and-.”

You quickly shut him up with a kiss. Within seconds you felt him relax against you, a warm smile spreading across your lips. As you slowly pulled away, your eyes quickly scanned his face, regret still lingering in his eyes. You quickly pressed your lips against his again. And then against the tip of his nose. And then against his cheek. And the other cheek. And his right brow.

You continued until you felt him shake against you, this time not because sobs wrecked through his body, but because he was chuckling. With a big grin, you pulled back, peering down at Alastor. And as he looked at you, he finally accepted all the love and adoration that was practically radiating off you. A content sigh left his lips and he leaned his forehead against you and closed his eyes again.

“I can’t believe you’re here. Really here.”

You chuckled as he pulled back, slowly getting off the bed, and taking all of you in. You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow as a silent question.

“You…look so healthy.”

He stepped back towards the bed and offered a hand, that you quickly accepted. With a smooth motion, he pulled you off the bed and into his arms, spinning you around, before pulling you close and rocking side to side.

“I can’t believe I have you back.”

You loosely wrapped your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. The two of you continued to sway to the soft music coming from Alastor’s cane. At least until Alastor suddenly stopped. He pulled away and studied you for a second.

“Why…why are you here?”

You frowned.

“I…heard about you from the Vee’s and when I finally had the chance to escape and find you, I took it. I-”

He interrupted you with a shake of his head.

“No, no. I mean why are you in hell? You were the purest, most holy person I ever knew. How are you not in heaven?”

You hesitated.

“I…I was told that you wouldn’t go to heaven when you died…so I decided not to go there either.”

Alastor looked taken aback as if you had just insulted his mother’s Jambalaya. Who in their right mind would go to hell voluntarily?

“You mean…you chose to go to hell? Because of me?”

You nodded, cradling his cheek with your hand, a soft smile on your lips.

“And I would do it a hundred times over.”

You rose to the tip of your toes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. He was frozen still, only moving when he felt your lips on his. With a quick motion, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. He deepened the kiss, keeping you locked against him until you had to breathe.

“I can’t believe you went to hell for me.”

He opened his eyes and grinned at you.

“I know why I fell for you.”

You chuckled, leaning your head back in faux thought.

“Because of my good looks? My sparkling personality? Or was it my cooking?”

He chuckled and nodded to all of those reasons, before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Because you are you. And definitely not because of your cooking. Whenever you were in the kitchen, the result was a health hazard.”

You looked at him, acting appalled, before giggling and nodding.

“Yeah, the kitchen definitely isn’t my place. But it is yours.”

Alastor hummed in agreement, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Talking about the kitchen…can you cook me something? I’m starving.”

“Why, of course, cher. Hold on tight.”

You did as you were told and gasped as the same pulling sensation took over you as when he rescued you. But before you knew it, you found yourself in the hotel’s kitchen. Alastor led you to a bar stool standing on the opposite side of a kitchen island and carefully helped you up.

When he was sure you were sitting safely, he whisked around to the other side and pulled an apron over his head. You quietly chuckled at the print “Kiss the Chef”, a wide smile on your face as you watched Alastor run around, preparing all of your favorite dishes at the same time. At one point, you waved him over, pressing your lips to his as soon as he was in reach. When he looked at you, pleasant surprise on his face, you just pointed at the apron, a grin on your face.

Your grin only widened when you noticed that light blush that dusted Alastor’s cheek as he walked back to the stove.

Half an hour later, every meal you could think of was served in front of you. From starters to desserts, you were free to choose. And while you loaded your plate, a few of the other residents entered the kitchen, clearly pulled there by the smell.

“Mister Fancy Talk Creepy Voice can cook?”

You turned around and came face to face with almost all of the other residents. The one that talked was the spider demon and you couldn’t help but smile. He must really grind Alastor’s gears.

“He is an amazing cook. Go ahead, try some, there is no way in hell, I could finish all this by myself.”

You clearly didn’t have to tell him twice, as he quickly grabbed a plate and pilled food on top of it. The others soon followed suit and before you knew it, every single soul in the hotel was sitting in the kitchen with you, enjoying Alastor’s cooking. The man himself was standing behind you, his arms around your waist, while his chin was resting on your shoulder.

“Don’t you want to eat something?”

You kept your voice quiet and didn’t further question him when he shook his head. You knew that he didn’t like to do personal talk in front of others and this felt like something he would explain to you sooner or later. Still, from time to time you held up your fork, offering the bite to him, and he took it every time.

All too soon, you started feeling full and had to put down your fork and knife. A deep yawn escaped your lips and you felt Alastor chuckle behind you.

“Time to get my love back to bed. If you’ll excuse us.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, the last thing you could see before you were teleported away, were the other residents, gawking at you. Their reaction made you smile and when you finally reappeared in Alastor’s room, you couldn’t help but lean back into him.

Quietly, he first undressed you and then him, before he led you to his bed. The two of you cuddled up under the blanket as Al pulled you against him. You closed your eyes, sleep overtaking you quickly, and for the first time since you had died, everything felt right.

Thank you for reading! Hope to see you in the next one! 💕

@impulsivethoughtsat2am @fanficwriter5 @wonderlandangelsposts @mo-0-o @xalygatorx @fairyv-ice @nixie189 @cutiebimbo

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

[eddiediaaz]

why am i so stressed about a 10-15 minute phone call in english when i spend most of my life reading, typing, and listening to stuff in english?? not to mention my last relationship that lasted 5 months with someone who speaks little french lol

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 25

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 24

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @userchai @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI:  swearing, smoking, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, rough/angry sex, semi-public sex, squirting, anxiety, trauma, mentions of sexual assault/harassment, angst, crying

Word Count: 8.5k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 25: I Won’t Back Down

Thursday, June 29th, 1989

"You ready, sweetheart?" Eddie asks on Thursday morning. You've been sitting together in his van for the last fifteen minutes, delaying the inevitable. You stare uneasily at the theater from across the street. It stares back at you unthreateningly, the lights in the sign and overhang shining like dozens of friendly, yellow eyes. There's nothing to be afraid of, Y/N. Tommy won't be in here anymore, you imagine the Hawk saying to you. It speaks in a sweet, feminine voice, doing its best to put you at ease. As nice as that sentiment is, this feels like a trap. "Hello? Earth to Y/N. You ready to go?" Eddie questions you again, waving a hand in front of your face.

"Hmm?" You snap out of it, looking at Eddie with a stunted smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

"We don't have to do this if you aren't ready, princess. What you went through was really shitty, and everyone would understand if you need more time一" He repeats the same spiel he's been relaying to you all morning. When you woke up, at breakfast, in the shower, getting dressed. You've had the honor of witnessing this trauma infomercial for the fifth time now.

"I'm fine, Eds!" You cut him off in annoyance. Eddie shuts his mouth tight in response, shrinking back into his seat. You sigh, giving him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I just don't need to hear the routine again, okay? I promise I can do this, and I'm going to be fine." You insist as calmly as you can. You appreciate Eddie's concern, truly. But you can't keep hiding away, you have a new job to get to. You refuse to stop living because one asshole decided to try and take advantage of you.

"Okay." He nods, realizing he's been a little pushy today. Of course he wants you to be able to move on with your life. He only worries that you're throwing yourself into work to avoid actually experiencing your emotions. You haven't talked much about what happened since Monday. You've burst into tears a couple times, totally unprompted. And he knows all the details of what took place. But what he doesn't know is how all of it makes you feel. He supposes if the roles were reversed, he wouldn't be so keen on talking about it, either. Even with you. He decides to give you space on the subject, and let you deal with it your own way. You're a grown woman, and you don't need to be coddled. "C'mon, boss. I'm sure Mr. Biggs has plenty of work for you today." He allows a small smile to creep across his lips, and you both hop out of the van to head inside.

You take hold of his hand, and walk into the Hawk for the first time since you passed out. Mr. Biggs is waiting by concessions to greet you, and you notice a perfectly pressed red button-up sitting on the counter. "Ah, Y/N! It's so good to see you. How are you feeling?" The old man says as you approach him.

"I'm doing good, and I'm ready to take on whatever you've got for me." You reply happily, turning up your internal dial. Forcing yourself to ignore the gnawing fear inside you. The second you walked in here, the hair on the back of your neck stood up on end. Goosebumps rose upon your skin, giving you a chill. The feeling passed once Biggs started talking, but your heart has yet to get the memo. You really hope you don't have a panic attack today, you're sure you've got too much work ahead of you. Plus, it could potentially tell your boss that you aren't ready for this much responsibility. And you can't have that. You need this promotion, you need that raise. For you, for Eddie, for your future. No amount of fear or anxiety is going to stand in your way. Not if you have anything to say about it.

"Glad to hear it. I've got this shirt here for you, and a spare is waiting in the break room. You won't need the vest anymore, so your new tag will clip right onto your shirt." Biggs says, handing off the crisp, clean garment off to you. You take it in your hands, a rush of excitement rolling over you at this opportunity becoming a reality. "Well, I'll let you get changed, and then we'll get started."

"Sure thing, sir." You say cheerily. You give Eddie a light peck on the lips before heading to the bathroom. You can hear Biggs giving Eddie his assignment for the day as you walk to the restroom, as well as Eddie asking Biggs to keep an eye on you. He expresses his worry, which simultaneously makes your heart melt and break. You love how much he cares for you, but you hate that he thinks you need to be 'watched over'. You push the bathroom door open, and it slams on its hinges behind you. You head into a stall, locking the door. You try to stay calm as you take off your old uniform, but your fingers keep fumbling against the buttons. You feel like you're going to cry again, but you really don't want to. Not here, not now. All it'll do is make everyone worry, and feel sorry for you. They might even send you home. "Ugh, snap out of it!" You shout aloud, the words echoing in the room.

You inhale slowly, shoving the tears and nausea down deeper and deeper on the exhale. I can do this, you think to yourself. You manage to get your damn shirt off, removing it and the vest together. They fall to the floor in an uncaring pile, and you pick up the red shirt. You slip your arms into the sleeves, pulling the fabric over your shoulders and back, treating it as armor to protect you from your own weakness. White Shirt Y/N is the one who cries at the drop of a hat, the one who doubts her every move, the one who gets assaulted. But Red Shirt Y/N is stronger than that, better than that. She can handle anything you throw at her, without even breaking a sweat. You've decided it for yourself at this moment. When you're here, in this uniform, nothing can get to you.

You bunch up the old clothes in your arms, and leave the stall. You check yourself in the mirror, tucking the tails of your shirt into your slacks, and adjusting the bow tie at your collar. You give yourself a final once-over, and you can't help smiling at how amazing you feel right now. "Bitchin'." You smirk at your reflection, turning to leave the restroom and begin your first day in this new role. You head to the break room to put the old uniform into your locker, as well as the spare red shirt Mr. Biggs has issued to you. You find the new tag laid neatly on top of it, the sheen of the plastic catching the light. It's white and oval-shaped, just like all the others. But engraved in bold, black letters it reads: 'Y/N Henderson, Supervisor'. You hastily clip it above your right breast, making sure it's sitting straight as an arrow.

"Well, damn, princess. Red sure does look smokin' on you." You hear Eddie's voice in the doorway, and your head snaps up to look at him. He's leaning casually against the door frame, hands in his pockets, one foot crossed around the other. His eyes drag down your body, before flicking back upwards to meet yours. He smiles at your gaze, glad to see your mood has improved a bit.

"You really think so?" You ask teasingly, doing a little twirl for him. Similarly to your first day, when you wore the same uniform as him. He chuckles lightly at your goofiness, and walks across the break room to meet you. You immediately insert yourself into his embrace, humming contently at his hands resting on your hips.

"You look great, babydoll." He coos, brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

"That's Ms. Henderson to you." You say with faux-severity. Meanwhile, your hands rest on Eddie's chest, and your knee manages to slip between his legs.

"Oh, is it, now? Well, pardon my rudeness...Ms. Henderson." Eddie plays along, his palms slipping behind you to squeeze your ass. You moan quietly, as does he when your knee ghosts over his crotch.

"I see someone's taken a liking to your new uniform, Y/N." Jamie quips as he walks in to get a cup of coffee. You and Eddie separate immediately in his presence, and a harsh blush burns on your cheeks. Jamie nonchalantly pours some of the fresh pot into a styrofoam cup, mixing in his usual two sugars and two creams. He leans back against the table, stirring his cup while grinning at the two of you.

"Well, I, uh...need to get to the ticket booth." Eddie says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah一 Yeah. I-I'm sure Biggs is waiting for me. I'll see you later一" You speak in a similarly frazzled manner, struggling to piece a full sentence together.

"Lunch?" Eddie forces the word out, his bashful eyes locking onto yours.

"Yep, lunch!" You nod, emitting an odd laugh. You stand in the unbearable silence for a moment, trying to find a way out. "Okay, bye." You blurt after what feels like an eternity, gently pushing past him to leave the room. You hear Eddie's footfalls behind yours, before he turns to head outside to the booth.

"Real smooth, you two!" Jamie calls sarcastically while you walk away, making you both cringe. Could this moment be any more embarrassing?

"I think you're making a huge mistake here, Biggs. You barely gave him a week!" You hear an unfamiliar male voice shouting over by the concession counter, and you look to find a man standing in front of your boss. He's tall, with dark brown hair slicked all the way back against his block-shaped head. He's wearing khaki slacks, a striped Polo shirt, and brown dress shoes. A gaudy gold Rolex sits heavily around his thick wrist, and his bulking arms follow his words angrily as he berates Mr. Biggs. This must be the dreaded Jack Hagan.

"He assaulted one of our employees, Jack! And I can't tolerate that kind of behavior here!" Biggs retorts, crossing his arms. He seems quite unbothered by Hagan's demeanor, which you find amusing. You're guessing it runs in the family, all bark and no bite.

"Oh, right, his ex-fuckin'-girlfriend! The way I see it, the little bitch wanted it! Tommy told me the way she'd smile at him when he made moves on her. She was asking for it." Jack insists, the words sliding off his tongue like toxic sludge. You feel your anger building as he spews disgusting lies about you. You can see where Tommy gets his entitlement and pervy attitude from. You take a minute to slow down, balling your fists for a minute to release the rage. Then, you slap on a kind smile, and cooly approach the two men.

"I can assure you, Mr. Hagan, I was definitely not 'asking for it'. If anything, I asked your son multiple times to leave me alone. I'm dating someone else now. I have no intention of being in any way intimate with Tommy again. I hope that clears things up for you." You speak as kindly as you can muster, leaving no room for this man to call you rude or combative. He really shouldn't even be here at all. Chief Powell is no doubt itching to put the Hagans in cuffs if they keep stirring up trouble.

Jack scoffs, dismissing your presence. That is, until he sees your new uniform and tag. "And you fuckin' promoted the little cunt?!" He jabs a thumb in your direction, his face growing red.

"Yes, I did. Y/N is a hard worker, she earned it." Biggs replies, nodding to you respectfully.

"Oh, you are un-fuckin'-believable, Biggs! You just wait and see, I'll put you outta business for this!" Jack screams, before turning to storm out of the theater. He stops in front of you for a second first, looking you up and down incredulously. "Shit, I've gotta teach Tommy to have some taste. And you better watch out, little girl. Tommy's just waitin' for an opportunity where your little boyfriend isn't around to protect you." He smirks as he vaguely threatens you, but you don't waver. You aren't scared of this man. Sure, he's big, and rich as fuck. But he's also a major pussy, just like his idiot son. You take a step closer to him, still smiling confidently while you enter his space.

"Last I checked, I didn't need my boyfriend to send that little shit running." You chuckle, which makes the man uneasy. He almost backs away from you, but fights the reflex for the sake of intimidating you. Thankfully, you notice his swaying half-step regardless of his efforts. You keep going, knowing exactly what to say to put an end to this shit. "And you'd better watch out with those threats, sir. I've gotten pretty tight with Chief Powell these last few months. I know he'll have my back if you, or anyone associated with you, try to come after me or Eddie." Jack scoffs at you again, opening his mouth to say something. But given how unafraid you appear to be in this little standoff, he decides against it.

Instead, he continues to the door, yelling and babbling about how Mr. Biggs is going to regret his decision. He leaves the theater, stomping down the street to his car. You can't help but giggle at the man's lack of control, he's like an angry cartoon character. "Are you alright, Y/N?" Biggs asks, drawing your gaze to him again.

"Yeah, I'm good. What's my first task, sir?" You chirp, meeting your boss properly now. He returns your smile, and proceeds to lead you through your new duties.

First, you start back in the breakroom, where Biggs shows you around his office. He hands you your own set of keys. Freshly made and kept on a durable ring, all of which are neatly labeled with small strips of masking tape, the words written in neat print by the man himself. There's nine in total: front door, back door, ticket booth, break room, office, projection room, storage, restrooms, and cleaning supplies. You slip the bulk of metal into your pocket, the weight jingling against your thigh. Biggs makes it very clear that you are, under no circumstances, to lose said keys. The punishment for such an infraction, you have no idea. But given his severe delivery of this warning (as all of his warnings come), you have no intention of finding out.

Secondly, Mr. Biggs gives you the run-down on how schedules and assignments are comprised. He gives you a copy of every employee's listed availability, along with print-outs of a schedule template. The maximum hours for the week is listed in the top right corner, and your job now is to fill in each person's column with no more than forty hours apiece, as well as not to exceed the set limit. Along with this, any requests for time off from the underlings will go through you, but your own requests must be cleared by the big boss. You find this to make enough sense, you're needed for more specific tasks than the others now, so your schedule is inherently far less flexible.

Thirdly, Biggs has given you the wonderful task of reviewing and interviewing the applicants he has gathered to replace your lower-level position, as well as Tommy's. He hands you a stack of filled out applications for you to look over. You are to contact and set up an interview with every last one of these people, all while maintaining a hold on whatever other duties you're dealing with day to day.

And finally, dreadfully, there is the matter of inventory. Biggs has the good sense to save this area for last, given the unfortunate incident that occurred the last time you tried to complete it. He clarifies that what you've already done is spectacular, showing a clear understanding of the job right away. He gives you the same clipboard from Monday, with the same sheets you'd been filling out. He instructs you to finish what you started, changing the numbers, if need be, and to bring him the completed pages. You apprehensively accept, though you don't show a whiff of doubt in his presence. You are 'Red Shirt Y/N' now, after all.

You take a deep breath as you open the door to the storage room where Biggs has left you. The door swings silently on its hinges, and you flick on the light. The same shadows from before cast wide around the room. Only this time, they seem to have grown in the last couple days. You close the door behind you, taking more deep breaths to calm yourself. You hope it's only your imagination, but you swear you can smell the acrid scent of blood and vomit hanging in the stale air of this glorified closet. You lock this obvious olfactory hallucination in a box inside your mind, focusing on writing the numbers along the columns on the papers in your hands.

"I got this." You murmur to yourself, once again ignoring the goosebumps and raised hairs. Most of the numbers you'd entered previously still hold true, which you're immensely thankful for. The less time you spend in here, the better. Just until the memory of Tommy and the blood and the vomit fades into distant recollection. You're nearing the area where Tommy accosted you now, the refrigerated frankfurters and nacho cheese, among other things equally as processed. You keep trucking along through the list, scratching the figures in with your pencil. You notice your hand has begun to tremble in your grasp, giving your handwriting the appearance of what you imagine the scrawl of an asylum patient would look like. Scraggly, crooked, unfocused and afraid. You shake your hand out with the pencil in your grip, when it suddenly loosens, flying across the room and rolling beneath one of the shelves. "Shit." You mutter, rolling your eyes.

Get it together!, you mentally scold yourself. You make your way over to where you think the damned stick of wood and lead has gone, getting down on your hands and knees to check. You see it, about halfway under, tip pointed towards you like a rigid finger. You ignore that mental picture, as it troubles your mind in ways you don't want to think about. You remind yourself that you're all alone in here, and there's nothing to worry about. But against your own intentions, your psyche settles on one word in particular in that train of thought: Alone.

Alone...all alone. Alone, in a dimly lit room full of scattered shadows. Alone, where no one can hear you scream...where no one can help you. Just like on Monday, remember? You screamed and screamed, and nobody came... The voice inside your head is no longer your own now. Not by a longshot. Sure, it's still your mind, so the only one that can shut it up is you. But the way it sounds, speaking in a foreboding, almost gleeful voice...it brings yet another chill all the way down your spine. Like someone with ice-cold fingers is crouching behind you, dragging the tips along every single vertebrae. It keeps repeating the same phrases, emphasizing that five-letter word that you now have come to loathe as well as fear.

You try to ignore it, block out its chanting, which the voice seems far too happy to do. Alone, alone, all alone! Nobody to find you! Nobody to hear you! All alone, all alone, hahahahaha! You picture what kind of being could possess such an awful voice, so high-pitched and gravelly, almost demonic. Something that lurks within the shadows currently surrounding you, something that whispers in your ear in the dead of night. Does it look human, or more like an animal? Does it have wings, or horns, or claws? All of the above? Is its skin weathered and leathery? Are its eyes a terrifying, piercing yellow? Your mind runs wild with the possibilities of what this made-up...thing you've concocted resembles, and you don't like a single part of it. Not a one.

"Y/N?" You hear a voice behind you, which makes you scream. Your body jerks upwards beneath the shelf, and you bonk your head on the grated metal.

"Ow." You whimper, rubbing your now-sore head with one hand while the other finally snatches up the damned pencil.

"Shit. I'm sorry, angel. I didn't mean to scare you." Eddie, it's just Eddie. You let out a sigh of relief at hearing your love, and slowly creep out from beneath the shelf, pencil in hand. "Are you okay?" He asks as he helps you up from the floor. His big brown eyes are blown out with concern, and you nod.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You just startled me." You let out a dry laugh, trying to quell the shakes ravaging your body. You'd just hopped yourself up on adrenaline with your nonsense, and now Eddie's scared it all out of you and your body is crashing down to normalcy.

"You sure you're alright? You got pretty spooked." He continues, taking hold of your free hand.

"Yeah, I was just...freaking myself out in here." You admit, though you have no intention of going into detail as of yet. Or ever. "But I'm almost done, is there something you need?" You turn the questions onto him, wondering why he's in here at all.

"Oh, yeah. I was just coming to get some more ticket paper. But then I saw you on the floor and wondered what that was about." Eddie chuckles lightly, though his brow is still raised, as it has been multiple times today. Usually when he assumes you're hiding or twisting the truth from him.

"Oh, okay. Help yourself." You smile, before resuming your work. Eddie heads for the shelf he requires, looking around for the right box.

"You gonna be okay in here, Y/N? I can stay...if you don't want to be alone." He offers, hoping you'll bite. There's no one waiting for him right now, he definitely has the time to spare. And he wants to make absolutely sure you're alright, he's worried about what exactly was freaking you out in here.

"I'm fine, Eddie." You say firmly, growing a little annoyed with him again. You're not a helpless child, you can handle a badly-lit closet for five more minutes. "I'll be out there in a sec, okay?" You meet his eyes when he's standing by the door, pleading with him to just drop it already.

Eddie looks at you a moment, trying to come up with a way to get you to just fucking talk to him already. You won't talk about Monday, and you won't talk about whatever the hell is going on in here. He's tried everything, but you won't budge an inch. He lets out a frustrated sigh, nodding in obedience. "Okay. Fine. I'll see you at lunch." He says in defeat, before heading out the door without another word.

Your heart sinks at the way he sounds, but you just aren't ready yet. You don't know if you ever will be. You don't want to think about what happened. It's not like anything actually happened, anyway. Tommy didn't get very far, just a stupid kiss. You fought him off, end of story. You can think of many others who weren't as lucky in this kind of situation, so there's no reason for you to fixate on it. Because you're not a victim. Not really. Right? You let out a sigh yourself, resuming your work.

You leave the storage room not much later, and quietly work around Eddie while you add up everything at concessions. You're guessing he left the ticket booth to switch with Jamie. "Hey, Eds." You say sweetly, a gentle acknowledgement of him. He doesn't say anything back, however. He appears to be ignoring you, or at least allowing you to do your job without distraction. Your heart sinks further either way, and you wish you hadn't been so stubborn earlier. You curse yourself for backsliding into old habits, ones you promised you wouldn't indulge anymore. You resolve to do everything you can to fix this later, after work and after Eddie's had his own chance to breathe. You know how much he despises it when you hide any part of yourself from him.

You finish the sheets without another word, handing them in to Biggs in his office. He looks them over carefully, and praises you on a job well done. It's time for your lunch break now, and you really hope Eddie won't make you eat alone. You've kinda pissed him off, and you desperately want to kick your own ass for it. You go over to his station anyways, and kindly invite him to join you in the lunches you'd packed this morning.

"Only if we eat in the van, and you talk to me about what the hell is going on with you." Eddie says seriously, muted anger staining his voice.

"Can't we do that later, Eds? I just want to eat and spend some time with you." You insist, but he shakes his head.

"What? So you can put it off again? Keep shutting me out? I don't think so, sweetheart." Man, you've really gotten him riled up this time. He keeps his cool as best he can, but the truth reads all over his features.

"I just don't want to deal with it when we have to come back to work a couple minutes later. I've got a lot of other new shit to learn today. Can you cut me a little slack here, please?" You beg grumpily. Neither of you are having a very easy go of things today. You've both fallen into this sour mood, and you really don't like it. The two of you are frustrated with each other for your various insistence, and at yourselves for perhaps pushing too hard in one way or the other. It's nothing you haven't worked through before, but any type of tension in your relationship sets you both on edge.

"Fine. But we are talking about this after work. No more stalling. I mean it, Y/N." Eddie says with total finality.

"Okay." You reply curtly, and the two of you gather your food and go out to the van.

You eat in silence, save for Eddie asking you a couple friendly questions about the new job. You answer them normally, and he nods agreeably at your responses. You can still feel that tension brewing between you, and it's getting so fucking annoying. You can sense it coursing through your veins, and you're sure Eddie feels it, too. There's this unbearable need to let the frustration go, to release yourselves from it so you can move on. Part of that will come when you open up to him later. But the other part...can be resolved now. You finish eating quickly, as if you're both mentally on the same page. You check the time, and you still have fifteen minutes left of your break.

Without a word, you get up from your seat, taking hold of Eddie's hands to bring him with you to the back of the van. He follows silently, allowing you to pull him along. You push him roughly onto the blankets below, and kneel over him while you open your slacks. He does the same, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly. The both of you kick your pants down your legs, without taking them or your shoes all the way off. You shove your panties down your thighs, all the way to your ankles. Eddie mirrors your action with his boxers, and his stiff cock smacks against his stomach. It's the only sound that can be heard in the van, other than the rustling of fabric, or the heavy breathing bursting forth from your mouths.

You take his dick in your hand, and he lets out a small moan. His own hand reaches between your legs, shoving two fingers into your pussy. You whimper at the sensation, and he recklessly fingers you to get you ready for him. Still, not a single word is uttered between you, you're just following what your bodies are asking 一no, screaming一 for. You need each other, despite your current disagreement. Right here, right now. No talking, no games. Just sex, plain and simple.

You pump Eddie's cock in your hand ferociously, and he keeps making you wet with his long fingers. He's using his left hand, which is unusual for him. This allows the cold metal of his rings to rub against you, thrilling your insides and outsides until you take his length into you at full force. Neither of you are going to last very long, all this pent up energy won't allow for that. But it's for the best, really, you don't have time on your side. Besides, you want this hard and fast and dirty. That's how it has to be.

You decide you're ready enough now, swatting Eddie's hand away and leading his leaking tip to your entrance. You don't bother to tease by dragging him along your soaked folds, you don't want to wait a second longer than you have to. You immediately sink down onto him, gasping loudly when he hits your cervix. Eddie groans, and his hands take a harsh grip on your hips. You don't waste a lick of time, beginning to bounce on him with everything you've got.

Eddie's dick rams against your g-spot with your every move, quickly setting you up for an intense orgasm. As it's been said, this won't take long at all. He helps you both along by thrusting himself upwards to meet your landing again and again, drawing animalistic grunts and moans from the both of you. His fingers dig into your flesh harder than they ever have before, deepening the bruises he'd given you yesterday morning.

You can't be bothered to say a single thing to each other as you screw in this carnal way. No swears, no praise, no filthy names or phrases. You don't even think of them now. All you can think is how you want to fuck harder, faster, to make your bodies snap into a thousand goddamn pieces. You want to tear each other apart, as you'd find it to be the ultimate act of love. 

The windows are clouded over with thick fog, and your clothes and hair have gone damp with sweat. You're going to stink of sex when you go back inside, but to hell with it. Work doesn't matter more than what you two share, and you refuse to let the idea of embarrassment from your coworkers stop you now. You keep riding Eddie like it's your dying wish, making him moan and whimper as your velvet walls squeeze around him. His noises fuel your fire, and you push yourself to the limit.

Eddie's getting dangerously close now, his only focus being how hot and wet your pussy is, and how badly he wants to spill his messy load inside you. More than that, though, he wants to make you scream. Your current whines and squeals are phenomenal to him already, but he wants to see how far you can go. How unraveled and untamed you can become. He suddenly shoves you backwards. Not too rough, but not exactly gentle either. You fall onto your back, confused for a second. But he doesn't give you a moment to think, as he flips you onto your stomach, and yanks your lower half upwards and towards him.

You put your weight onto your hands and knees, getting the message of what he's trying to do. His arm wraps around your stomach, and he slams his cock into you in one swift stab. You cry out, your head falling forward at how perfectly his tip smacks against your sweet-spot. Your hands dig into the blankets, holding on for dear life while Eddie drills into you like a machine. His pelvis slaps against your ass over and over, stinging your skin.

You can feel the end nearing for you both now. His thrusts lose focus, though they don't lose an ounce of speed, and your insides have started their tell-tale fluttering around his length. Eddie takes this as his cue to go even harder, bringing himself past his own physical threshold. He pushes your upper half down onto the bedding, forcing your face to squish against the layers of fabric. He holds you in place like this, to a point where your left cheek can feel the firm floor of the vehicle below.

You continue to make the most wild noises, rewarding Eddie's every thrust with another moan or wail of pleasure. You're so fucking close, you can feel it. Any second now, you're going to lose all control. You're anticipating it, which only increases the overwhelming waves of your orgasm that threaten to take hold. Eddie's grunting like a feral beast behind you, his chest heaving and brows drawn in a creased v-shape. You wish you could see what you've done to him, wondering if he himself has turned into the demon you were imagining earlier. The thought of you having such an effect on him makes the knot within you snap.

You scream so loud, and your body loses all control of itself. Your legs shake, and your arms claw and thrash at the covers beneath you for purchase. You're blinded by ecstasy, unable to see anything but bursting stars. Your cunt clamps down on Eddie's dick, which makes him let out a primal yell, a call that simultaneously arouses and terrifies you.

His hips buck erratically into you, dragging your pleasure out. He can't stop fucking you, and it's enough to make tears spring from your eyes. He's still holding you in place, thrusting into you again and again as his cum spills from him. Your own arousal spurts from your pussy, mixing with his and flowing downwards between your bodies. It miraculously manages to miss your clothes, only small drips on your thighs, the rest pooling onto the blankets you've been screwing on.

It takes Eddie a couple minutes to come to a complete stop, his dick has yet to go soft. And you feel so fucking good inside, it's unreal. He wishes he had time to keep going, he'd use you up until there's nothing left if he could. And you know for certain that you'd let him. He slowly pulls out of you, though you're still pulsating around him as he does so. You both groan at the eventual loss, struggling to keep from falling over into your mess.

"Fuck." Eddie breaks the silence, though he's completely out of breath.

"We definitely needed that." You comment, scooting yourself forward to sit up straight and put your pants back on.

"Don't think that this is getting you out of talking later, angel." Eddie warns from behind you, which makes your body stiffen. He notices your reaction, and decides to tone it down a little. "I'm still annoyed as hell at you, but I know this thing is harder to talk about than others. But you know I'm here for you, always." He ends lovingly, his voice dipped in sadness. He just wants to be there for you when you need him, to love and support you through everything. He only wishes you'd actually let him.

"I know, Eds. And I'm sorry for being...this way. But I promise I'll tell you everything later. Let's get back in there, and finish the day." You turn to meet his gaze, finding a small amount of forgiveness waiting for you.

"Sure thing, boss." He smirks, pulling that fun little name out again.

"Don't get me all horny again, Eds. Or I might just write you up." You joke while biting your lip.

"I'm counting on it, sweetheart." He finishes, calling this game to an end...for now.

You both head back inside, going your separate ways until the day is done. Eddie stays at concessions, while you use the phone in Biggs' office to call up a few of the applicants in the massive pile he gave you. You recognize a couple of the names, some classmates of yours, as well as Max Mayfield. You'd love to have another familiar face here, putting her at the top of your list. You set up an interview with her and about five others for tomorrow. The rest are spread throughout the week, anywhere between three to six per day. Somewhere during all of this, you'll need to put together the schedule as well. You can already tell this role is going to be far more taxing than scooping popcorn and ringing up tickets.

By the end of the day, your brain is absolutely fried from calling number after number of what feels like every teenager, single mother, and druggie burnout in Hawkins. Eddie comes back to the office after doing his share of evening clean-up, leaning in the doorway. "You ready, love?" He asks, noticing your stressed-out stature. Your hair is frizzy from running your hands through it, and you're slouching over the desk with applications strewn everywhere. A worn-down pencil sits between your fingers, thumping rapidly against one of the papers before you.

"Hm?" You ask, not even looking at him. You're poring over the schedule now, fruitlessly attempting to get Wednesday and Thursday to work right. It's practically impossible, you've tried everything. Swapping shifts, lessening hours, etc. But you're completely stuck.

"Y/N, it's time to go home." Eddie says again, drawing your eyes to him now. His face falls when he sees how exhausted you look, dry eyes and clenched jaw to boot.

"Oh. Right." You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. You drop the pencil from your other hand. And you groan loudly while slowly wiping your palms over your face. You blink your eyes a few times afterwards in an attempt to moisten them. "Sorry, I've been calling people for hours. And then there's this damn schedule that doesn’t wanna work." You gesture at it in irritation.

"I'm sorry, angel. That sounds awful." Eddie tuts, reconsidering the idea of making you talk tonight. You've been through enough as it is. If you want to put it off another day, he'll completely understand.

"Yeah, well, it's what I signed up for. And an extra five bucks an hour is more than worth it." You smile, trying to remain optimistic. Today was certainly a challenge, but you know you'll find a good rhythm once you get the hang of things.

"If you say so, babydoll. I definitely don't envy you one bit." Eddie chuckles, extending his hand your way. "C'mon, let's lock up and get the hell outta here."

"Yes, please!" You exclaim, taking his hand. He stays by your side as you lock up, waiting in the warm evening air while you twist the key into the front doors. "There, all safe and sound." You say, turning to head for the van.

You both have a smoke on the way home, not talking much during the drive. It's not like earlier, though, the energy between you is much more calm and empathetic now. Eddie parks on the far end of the driveway, turning to you in his seat. "We don't...have to talk now if you're not up for it. I know work was a lot for you today." Eddie offers, putting a kind hand on your knee.

"No, no. You were right. I've been hiding again, and I shouldn't be. We can do this now." You put your hand over his, squeezing gently.

"Okay. C'mon." He says. He's overjoyed that you don't want to lock yourself away anymore. You follow his lead, but he doesn't go into the house. Instead, he walks around to the back of the van.

"Watcha doin', Eds?" You ask with a quirked brow.

"I'll show you." He says simply, taking hold of the back door handles to hoist himself up onto the back bumper. Once his feet are on the thin piece of metal, he puts his hands on the roof of the vehicle and lifts himself up. He crawls awkwardly until he's fully up there, and he sits at the edge with his feet hanging off now.

"Eddie, you can't be serious! There's no way I can get up there!" You giggle at his monkey-man antics. You're extremely skeptical, however, that you'll be able to replicate them.

"It's easy, Y/N. I'll help you, c'mere." He waves you over, and you apprehensively do as he asks. You stand in front of the doors, and he smiles down at you. "Okay, grab the handles, and put your feet on the bumper like I did." He instructs. You do as he asks, gripping the handles and balancing wearily on the bumper. "Good, now give me your hands, and I'll pull you up. You can put your feet on the handles as I lift you."

"Jesus, this is insane." You laugh, before once again following Eddie's directions. You take hold of his hands, and he uses all his strength to lift you up. You help out by stepping onto the handles, and he continues to bring you onto the roof. You land gently on top of him, and you both lay here like this for a moment. His legs are still hanging off the edge, and yours stick out in the air. Your stare into each other's eyes, and small smiles lay about your faces. "You wanna tell me why we're up here, baby?"

"Sure, it's quite simple. I like to come up here when something's really buggin' me. I lie down, stare at the sky, think it over. Or in this case, talk it over. And then, I just let it go. It's a bit whacko, but I swear it works." He explains, mesmerizing you with the way he speaks again.

"Alright, I suppose we can give it a try." You reply, carefully rolling over to lay beside him now. You're surprised the metal doesn't dip from your weight on it, but it holds strong to keep you both safe. "Where should I start?" You ask, turning your head to look at him.

"It's up to you, Y/N. Whatever feels right." Eddie replies, taking your hand in his while still staring at the sunset above. The sky is smeared with purples and oranges, gradually turning darker and darker as the sun goes down.

"Okay." You face forward again, thinking it over. It takes a minute for a solid thought to arrive, but you latch onto it as soon as it does. "I don't want to think what happened on Monday was a big deal." You say, hoping he'll chime in with some follow-up questions.

"Why not?" He asks simply.

"Because, nothing really happened." You can sense him about to interject, so you keep going. "I mean, he didn't get very far. You know? Sure, that kiss was probably one of the most vile things I've ever experienced. But I stopped him."

"Do you think it matters 'how far' he got, Y/N? You know what his intentions were, what could have happened if you weren't so smart." Eddie adds.

"I guess. I dunno, I know plenty of people that weren't able to escape like I did. They went through something horrible, something that will be stuck with them forever. So, what do I have to be upset about?" You really don't mean to sound so careless about the whole thing. But to you, it makes no logical sense to feel victimized.

"Y/N, Tommy was going to rape you. You realize that, right?" Eddie finds it so strange that you've essentially detached yourself from the whole situation. You nod as an answer to his question, finding the thought a bit unsettling. He's right, things could have gone very differently for you in that storage room. Tommy could've ripped your clothes, touched your body with his grubby hands, pulled down your pants and his own and had his way with you. He could have left you bruised and bleeding on the floor, leaving without a scratch on him. "Okay, so that fact is plenty of reason to be upset. You rejected his repeated advances, and he didn't listen. He was going to hurt you, and if you ask me, he still did."

"But I hit him, Eddie. I一" You start, attempting to push the idea away that you're the victim here. You don't want to accept that, you won't.

"You did what you had to, angel. I feel like you're in denial, to save yourself from....I dunno...shame? Embarrassment? So what is it? Why won't you accept the reality here?" His tone stays calm, despite his questions sounding more annoyed than before.

"Because, Eddie. I don't want people to look at me differently. I don't want them to think I'm weak, or that I made Tommy do those things." You feel the tears coming now, streaming hotly down your cheeks.

Eddie lays on his side, putting himself as close to you as possible. His heart aches at your saddened expression, he gently wipes your eyes for you. "Sweetheart, no one thinks that at all. If anything, they think you're a badass for fighting Tommy off. I know I do. And it's not your fault, love. Tommy doesn't take no for an answer, because he's a spoiled little shit. He's the bad guy here, not you. Never you, princess." He speaks kindly to you, letting you cry it out. As much as it pains him to see you cry over anything, he's glad you're coming to terms with this. "I want you to say it's not your fault, Y/N."

"Why?" You ask through a sob. You find his words so loving and sympathetic, but you're not sure you believe them. You feel like there's more you could've done to get Tommy to leave you alone. Like reporting every comment or touch he gave you to Biggs immediately. Or actively rejecting his advances instead of ignoring him. But you didn't.

"Because it's probably the only way you're going to believe it. I know you, probably better than you know yourself. You're probably thinking there's more you could've done to prevent it, right?" Your eyes widen at his words, and he nods in understanding. "I thought so. Now, c'mon, say it. Let it go, and we won't have to talk about it ever again." He encourages you, stroking his thumb across your fingers.

You nod silently, preparing yourself to say the phrase you want so badly to believe. You take a deep breath, and open your mouth to speak. "It's not my fault. There's nothing else I could've done to stop it. I said no, and Tommy didn't listen. It's his fault, not mine." Your breath shudders, and a wave of relief washes over you. You feel a suffocating weight lift away from your body, one you didn't even realize was there at all.

"You feel better, love?" He asks, cupping your cheek now that your tears have stopped.

"Yes, Eds. Thank you." You smile up at him, and he reciprocates it.

"Good. You wanna tell me about earlier today?"

"Yeah, that one's easy." You giggle quietly, finding your overactive imagination a bit silly now. You tell him about the demon you concocted inside your head, and the fixation on how 'alone' you were in that storage room. He also finds it a little funny, but it also makes sense. A traumatic thing happened to you in that room, and it's only natural for your brain to kick into overdrive when returning to the scene of such a thing.

When you're finished, the both of you feel a thousand times better than you did just a couple hours ago. You stay on the roof of the van for a while, snuggling up with each other until the stars come out to play. "We should probably go inside, I'm sure Arwen is missing us." Eddie pipes up.

"Yeah, I also miss that little furball." You say softly, nuzzling against Eddie's chest. Being here with him like this is surprisingly comfortable, and it's hard to make yourself get up. "So, uh, how do we get down?" You ask, realizing that it might prove to be a challenge.

"Don't worry, angel. I'll help you." Eddie pats your back to prompt you to get up. You do so, and watch as he scoots to the edge of the van. He turns around, and uses the door handles and bumper as a makeshift ladder to get down. Once he's safely on the ground, he stands a couple feet back from the van. "Your turn, sweetheart." He smiles with his hands on his hips.

"Okay." You say uneasily, mimicking Eddie's actions. Your feet dangle over the edge, and you turn yourself around onto your hands and knees. You grip what you can of the hood, slowly lowering your feet until they reach the handles. Then you carefully lower yourself further, hands going to the doors, and feet going to the bumper. You hop down the rest of the way, and spin around to find Eddie giving you a proud glance.

"So, what do you think?" He asks, nudging his head at the roof, referring to his particular method of therapeutic release.

"Hmm...it's still pretty whacko, but it helped a lot. It's a pretty nice view up there, too." You smirk, pressing yourself into him for a hug. Your arms wrap around each other, and your head rests against his warm chest. You can hear his heart beating against your ear, and you let out a contented sigh while he holds you close. "I love you, Eddie. Thank you for being patient with me."

"I love you, too, Y/N. And thank you for letting me help you. There will never come a time where I stop doing that. I promise." Eddie replies sweetly, making your heart soar at his continued love and support for you. You're so lucky to have him, and you never want to take that for granted.

To be continued…

[loverselegy]

A Lullaby to You

A quick blurb to get started!

Yandere Male OC (Nirvana) X GN Reader

Lore and intro post

Oh god, what am I doing? I'm supposed to be on lookout duty.

Nirvana's footsteps echo in his ears, the sound ringing in the still air. In truth, the sound is only barely noticeable in the quiet house, but the paranoia clings to him like a vice. Someone will know.

He started feeling it a long time ago. The infection in his veins, travelling up his spine and latching to his brain, sucking the life out of him like a leech. He ignored it, hoping beyond hope that nobody had noticed when he'd steal anything you had used. It was the only thing that kept him satisfied.

But it isn't enough anymore.

He steps over Ambrose's sleeping body, narrowly avoiding an accidental trampling of the other male's fingers. He stumbles, catching himself on the back of the dusty old couch before he can fall on top of Alis.

There, on the couch, is his prize. You, eyes shut and asleep... You're vulnerable. Weak. Pathetic, even. No wonder he got away with tormenting you for so long.

Irrelevant.

Nirvana takes a seat on the armrest, just beside your head. His hands raise, stilling in the air for a moment. Don't hesitate, the infection tells him, you need this.

His hands come to rest on your face, staring down at you, cloaked in the darkness of the night. He can see all of your features, the very features that drove him to the brink of insanity. He draws gentle circles into your cheeks with his fingertips, his breath leaving his lips in short pants.

Your aroma is fascinating to him. He wants to drown himself in the scent that defines you, to become one with your flesh and bones and mold himself to your being with no hope of separation.

His thoughts pause when you shift, your eyes fluttering open as his fingers dig into your cheeks. He hadn't realized he was gripping you so tightly.

"What's wrong?" You mutter, a cute, sleepy lilt to your voice.

Nirvana chuckles, but his hands shake as he pulls them away from you. "You were shuffling in your sleep. I was worried."

The lie slips from his lips without any hesitation, the words playing on loop in his head even after he says them.

"Oh," You whisper, your eyes falling to the other males for a moment.

Don't look at them. Don't you dare look at anyone but me.

"I've been stressed," You admit, your hands folded over your stomach as you stare at the ceiling. "Since this whole thing started. It's terrifying."

Nirvana can feel his lips curling into a smile. Confide in me.

"You're not alone," He murmurs, watching you attentively as you sit up. "I'll protect you."

Your expression softens into a grin, and Nirvana bites his lip to avoid lunging at you and squeezing you until you pop. You pat the spot beside you, and he slides off the armrest to sit properly on the cushion.

Much to his complete shock, you lay your head on his lap and curl up, preparing to fall back into slumber.

"...Then, make sure nightmares don't plague me anymore," you murmur, eyes fluttering shut. You miss the way Nirvana's face flushes, the darkness shielding the pink color of his eyes.

"I will," He breathes out gently. "Rest easy."

A wide smile splits his face once he's sure you're asleep again. He can barely contain his glee, seeing you below him... Relying on him. You're so desperate for his comfort and warmth, something only he could ever provide for you.

His eyes trace your outline through the darkness, following your figure and finding your head as it rests in his lap.

I won't give up, he thinks, until you're mine.

[sealrock]

14. telling

cw: underaged smoking word count: 588 words

"Take short puffs first, like I told you."

"Alright, alright."

Smoke filled Paris' throat before she released it, the tendrils of nicotine dancing across her breath as she sat across her cousin Evander, the older teen crouched to the graveled ground as he rolled a cigarette for himself. The spring sun was setting, and shadows from his parents' manor drew long and dark from their secluded spot in the blooming white rose hedge maze.

"How does it feel?"

Narrow blue eyes regarded the girl, ashes from her cigarette falling across her school uniform. Paris shrugged before taking another puff, the embers glowing a brighter orange.

"It's different… Probably won't do this again."

Evander cracked a grin, "That's what they always say. Ishgardian tobacco is the best stuff you can get—after one, you can't stop."

"Must be why it's contraband."

Striking a match, Paris watched her cousin effortlessly inhale a long drag, the seventeen-year-old hollowing his lean cheeks before releasing a gray haze of smoke from his nose. Paris rolled her eyes and gave him a playful knock against his shoulder.

"Such a showoff…"

Paris enjoyed spending time with Evander and his younger brother Patroclus; out of all the members of the Tatlonghari clan, she thinks they're the most normal ones. Between his neurotic drunk of a mother and aloof cuckold of a stepfather, Evander somehow came out of that pretty decently if one were to ignore his poor constitution. There were days when Evander wouldn't have the strength to move from his bed, and his mother wouldn't let Paris come over to keep him company. Despite Evander's halfhearted assumption that his mother wouldn't care less if he was blindfolded and tightrope walking over a desert gorge, Paris didn't think so. The woman had two sons, she would surely flip a lid if one of them went down the wrong path… Surely.

But on days like today, when things weren't going well for Paris, Evander knew how to cheer her up—usually with teenage tomfoolery. Most fourteen-year-old girls wouldn't be debasing themselves with addictions and rule-breaking, but Paris wasn't the average fourteen-year-old girl either. Instead of having virtuous role models to look up to, Paris learned the ins and outs of Ul'dahn society from a self-described ne'er-do-well.

"I knew it!"

Paris jumped at the sudden voice, whipping around to find Patroclus pointing an accusatory finger at them, his freckled face morphing into a frown. He had green eyes just like Paris, a look of distress reflected at the older teens. He was only two years younger than Paris, but Patroclus acted more like a spoiled brat than normal due to his mother's suffocating pampering, the boy doing no wrong in her eyes.

Evander wasn't expecting his brother to pop out from the maze like he did, the shock causing the smoke to catch in his fragile lungs. In between his coughing fit, Patroclus stomped his foot before announcing:

"I'm telling Mother!"

Paris scoffed before waving him off, "Don't be such a canary, Patty, we're only having a little fun."

"I'm also telling Uncle Ali!"

Evander always said Patroclus was a little goody-goody, but Paris chalked that up to them being regular siblings who like to annoy each other. Paris was somewhat glad she was an only child.

"Like hell, you will, you little smartmouth!"

Paris was quick to chase after Patroclus, Evander lagging behind with his weak legs. In time, Paris would come to view the brothers as siblings, but right now, she had to shut up the younger one.

[madame-fear]

Can you make a lucerys velar yon imagine where he is just really soft. Like in an au where rhaenyra and Alice t got along but luke and admins got in a fight and Luke if seething. But once he sees reader he calms down because she gets scared seeing angry men? Sorry so specific lol I just love soft luke imagines😭

YESS ABSOLUTELY I love soft Lukie fics/imagines too 🥺❤kinda based this off the dinner fight on ep.8

I know that, being Lucerys dear partner/wife, he'd take (*coughcough*drag*coughcough*) you absolutely everywhere with him — even to the family dinners between his mother, his uncles, and the rest of his family. He just likes showing you off to the family.

Rhaenyra and Alicent overcame their differences, and they get along just perfect as they always did since they were little girls. Lucerys, Jacaerys and their uncles, well... They just tolerate one another. They have their differences, but it's bearable to be with them in the same room.

When you once went to have dinner in King's Landing because you were invited to spend some days, as usual, Lucerys proudly took you with him. The evening was as delightful as usual, but unfortunately, his uncles felt like pissing both Luke and Jace off a bit. And you happened to be in middle of the situation.

Even if Alicent doesn't allow her children to call/refer to the Velaryon boys as "bastards", sometimes, they just have the tedious urge to keep bothering them no matter how badly against that their mother is. And as expected, during dinner, while Nyra and Ali calmly spoke to one another, Luke's uncles had no better idea than simply pick up on him, and you as well for "marrying a bastard".

Neither Jace nor Luke liked what their uncles were doing quite obviously, so what went from being a mere exchange of angry words, nearly became a fervidly enraged phsyical fight — becoming more heated with the passing of the seconds as they just started to harshly push one another and continously raise their voices.

Obviously everyone stood up from their seats and tried to push the four boys away at seeing how bad the situation was getting, including you. But you, feeling how your stomach twisted of nerves at seeing all the boys enraged with one another and being seconds away from getting into a physical fight, simply stood there with a pale face, fidgeting with your fingers and hoping the situation wouldn't escalate to something further.

And as angrily seething as Luke is, the second he pulls his gaze away from his uncles and turns it to a very anxious and scared you, there's something in him that immediatly makes him want to forget about them and just focus on you — the sight of seeing you so frightened makes his heart drop awfully. Which, it worked, because the argument rapidly stopped and Lucerys rushed to you, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and asking you if you're okay.

Your arms would also quickly be wrapped around his body, pressing your head against his chest.

“I was worried you'd get into a fight, Luke. I-I did not wish to see you get involved in such things.” you murmured in a quivering whisper, as the Princeling began taking you away from the dining hall. His hand took a delicate hold of yours, as both of you walked to the corridors of King's Landing, where you had a bit of privacy from the eyes of the rest of your family. “I apologise for the situation, my love.” he responded, pulling you into his arms and into his chest, as he planted sweet little kisses on your forehead. “I just could not tolerate hearing how they chose to disrespect you by... bringing you to one of our usual arguments.” his voice ess enough to make your eyes flutter shut, and give into his slow, tender touch. His rosy lips travelled all across your beauteous face, giving you kisses in every inch of your skin. One of his hands rubbed your back, and the other one played with a silky strand of your hair. “But do not worry anymore, my dear — it will not happen again. And I promise you, I won't allow anyone to make you feel disrespected, or worse, scared. Everything will be alright.”

Sweet Lucerys hates seeing you so frightened in situations such as these, so obviously he'd do either his best to avoid them when he's with you, or to bring you some warming comfort when you have to go through that situation together.

And when he does have to provide comfort for you, he'll do anything to make you feel peacefully showered in love, and he'll do it right.

♡ taglist : ♡

@jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @tickle-euphoria @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @dopepersonacloudllama @phantasyy@tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie

[ask-robokasa-and-rui]

LORE POST//

The crew arrive at the hospital, the staff take the three to the room Tsukasa was in. They eventually get to the room as Kanade hesitantly opens the door. Tsukasa was alying in bed but he looked so...tired. Poor guy...he tried his best to smile, to speak, to tell Saki that he was going to be alright, to wipe the tears forming in her eyes...but his body didn't let that happen.

A....a...ki...

Don't talk Tsukasa...you need to save up your energy...

Yeah...y-you have to!

...No. Brother...tell me. Is this the first time this happened?

...

Tell me!

Saki-

N...n..noo....

I knew it. That place is fcking with your health. You're not going there ever again!

W...hat...?

Saki don't be ridiculous!

But if his "dream" is causing him so many problems, then why should he continue chasing after it?! He'll be a piece of dust until he actually accomplishes that dream!! Heck, he probably won't be alive to accomplish that dream because of this!!

Saki. Shut up.

Kanade-!!!

Shut. Your fcking mouth. Before I rip out your disrespectful a$$.

...

Why...whyy...

Tsukasa?

Why...would...you say...that...?

...

I...don't under...stand why...!

...I'm sorry. I was just mad that you wouldn't take care of your health while chasing your dream. Because...you know why I hate the hospital...and because of that, I hate seeing you in the hospital...

...I understand Saki...but please be more kind next time...

...

Why does she hate the hospital? Maybe because it was scary to her as a kid? No...it was much worse from that.

So doc...what is wrong with our little angel?

Well, your "little angel" might not be much of an angel! You see, habits like pulling out hair or throwing tantrums out of nowhere is a big sign that your kid may be a lunatic!

Excuse me?!

To be completely honest with you Ms.Tenma, Saki here may be dealing with psychological problems! The habits she does now, can lead to her hurting her sister. So I suggets we keep her in a psych ward for a while until she becomes someone safe!

I see...Thank you doc.

Walking down those halls were a nightmare for Saki

M-mom? Are you gonna put me away?

Not yet...I have to talk to your father first. But with what you've been doing, we may have to do this...because your behavior and what the doctor has said is concerning. Understand?

Y-yes...

That's my girl...

Tags: @aspenii @a-120 @bobcross1010 @blankblyke @delartz @kusanagi-nene-official-mod @mai-mai-mai @tealthingy @scodscod

[achaotichuman]

Ya'll remember the Dahlia fic I posted like three hours ago?

I hope you do because here is chapter 2

Link to part 1 is here.

@fell-in-luvs, @r-biter, @praetorqueenreyna

A Field of Dahlias

When he awoke, someone was pressing a damp washcloth to his forehead. Slowly, he blinked open his eyes. Vision blurry and everything was sore. 

Finally, he recognised the person above him as Alis. The female noticed him waking up and inhaled quickly before letting the washcloth rest on his head, taking his hands in hers. 

She called over her shoulder, "Tell Lucien he's awake."

There was the sound of a book snapping shut as a person got up from the emerald chair in the corner of his room. Tamlin tried to lift his head to get a clue of who was sitting there, but he only managed a glimpse of pale robes before Alis pushed him back down. 

"Where is Lucien?" Tamlin asked. His voice sore, barely above a whisper. 

"Speaking with some courtiers, nothing to worry over." Her hands moved to hair and began to plait so as to keep her fingers busy. 

"What happened?" He asked. 

Alis still for a moment, then she said, "You're magic exploded, your study was the only thing affected."

"My magic exploded?" Tamlin asked, his voice even smaller. 

"Yes."

"But..." I'm not supposed to use my magic, and for it to have exploded like that. 

Oh no. 

Oh god no. 

At that moment Lucien walked in. 

The red head was beside the bed in seconds. A hand went to Tamlin's shoulder, "Hey, you're up."

"Yeah." Tamlin replied. 

"Still weak, but awake." Alis said, taking away the washcloth from his head and sliding off the bed. 

"How are you feeling?" Lucien asked. 

"Awful." Tamlin snapped.

Lucien gave him a soft smile that didn't reach his worried eyes, "Figures."

"Here." Alis said, and she helped him to slowly sit up. 

The second he was upright, all the blood in his brain rushed out. Dizziness overtook and his face went frightfully pale. 

Alis reacted faster than Lucien and grabbed a bucket beside the bed. 

Tamlin vomited until he was dry heaving. Alis' rough hands pulled back his hair and Lucien immediately moved to rub his back. Tamlin however pushed him back. 

When his body finally relented, Tamlin slumped back, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling. 

Alis took the mess away with a murmur that she would be back soon. Lucien nodded to her while Tamlin closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath. 

When the door clicked shut, Lucien broke the silence, "Well this has been a hectic day."

"You think." Tamlin rasped. 

"Yeah I do. And I think it has been made worse by the fact we have not addressed all that need addressing."

"Lucien-" Tamlin groaned. 

"No, if you won't talk about it Tamlin, then I will. Like it or not, you are pregnant, it is Feyre's. Feyre is now the God's know where in Night with that monster-"

Feyre in that fabric that couldn't be called clothes. In Rhysand's grasp. Painted and being touched while drugged flashed through his mind. 

"Feyre-!" Tamlin shot up and wen to rush out of bed. 

Lucien grabbed and pulled him right back, "Enough, Tamlin!"

"But she-" Tamlin would bite him if he needed to. 

"She is Night because of a bargain she made when she was warned not to."

"He coerced her into it." Tamlin seethed, he knew, Feyre had said when he quested the bargain mark. How Rhysand had twisted her arm when she initially refused it. 

"I know." Lucien said, worry shining in his eyes, "But it is still bargain magic and until the week is up, we won't know where she is."

"If," Tamlin's voice was like thunder, "She is still there a second after the seventh day ends, I am storming the Night Court."

"I don't doubt it." Lucien murmured, "In the meantime, we have another issue."

Just like that, the fear writhed in him again, "My magic exploded-"

"Heilda gave you a check over whilst you slept. We got lucky."

Mother above, he nearly thanked the Gods. 

"But-" Lucien said sternly. 

Tamlin already knew what he was going to say. 

"She doesn't just recommend female because its more comfortable, it's also safer Tamlin. So-" 

"I know." Tamlin whispered. 

Lucien's hand travelled along the soft sheets, then gently covered Tamlin's. 

"This is shitty." Lucien said. 

Tamlin huffed a laugh, "Yeah."

A heartbeat of silence passed and Lucien eventually asked, "Do you want to try shifting?"

Tamlin sighed, "Yeah."

"Okay do you need me to leave-?"

In a second his clothes were ever so slightly baggier around his waist. The fabric around his chest constricted and his jaw became just slightly less defined. Small changes, but enough to mark him as something else. 

Thank Gods for him that he retained most of his muscles. Eyes, wider now, looked up to Lucien. 

The Fox was blushing furiously and it made Tamlin bite his lip not to laugh. 

"How- you-"

Tamlin shrugged, "I base it off what my body already looks like."

"Mhm." Lucien's cheeks were flushed a rosy red, "I didn't realise it was so easy."

Tamlin laughed, voice with a slightly higher pitch. Toned differently enough for anyone to notice a change, "It doesn't sound like it would be."

"No it doesn't." Lucien murmured, then he cleared his throat. 

Tamlin picked at the buttons of his shirt, pulling too tight to be comfortable. Lucien noticed and quickly asked, "Do you want a different set of clothes."

Tamlin was still in the clothes he would have been married in. Jacket and waistcoat gone. But still in his trousers and white shirt. His heart throbbed. 

"Yeah."

Lucien nodded but before he could leave the bed, there was a rapping against the door. 

"Come in!" Tamlin called out. 

"Just as I thought." A female said as she opened the door, "Different voice means you've already shifted?"

Ianthe peeked through the crack in the door, not stepping through the threshold. One of her vows of purity. To not step under the roof of a room with only a male. 

She looked him up and down, "I was correct then."

Without another word she tossed some clothes into the bedroom, they hit the bed. Tamlin lifted an eyebrow in confusion. 

"Clothing." She said, as if it were not obvious. 

"I won't be wearing Priestess robes." Tamlin said with a slight tilt to his lips. 

"I would be offended if you were." Ianthe retorted, "Change and once you two have your heart to heart there is someone who wants to see the two of you."

"Who?" Lucien asked. 

"Hurry up and you'll see." Ianthe told him flippantly. Then she closed the door. 

Lucien rolled his eyes hard enough Tamlin thought they might get stuck in the back of his head. 

"Must she be sarcastic as well as insufferable."

"Wouldn't be Ianthe otherwise." Was all Tamlin replied with as he moved to grab the clothes, she had tossed him. 

Not her clothing, certainly not, the Priestess. Specifically, the High Priestesses, swore their virginity to the Mother. Which included a myriad of rules that Tamlin had never paid attention to learning. His mother had always scolded him for not being as studious as he should've been. 

He didn't recognise the clothes and they smelled unused. How long had he been out that she had been able to go out and buy new clothing?

"I wonder who could be here-" Lucien started. Then cut himself off sharply as Tamlin unbuttoned his shirt. 

"Tam-Tamlin!" Lucien quickly swivelled his head away, staring adamantly at the wall opposite to Tamlin. 

Tamlin breathed in deeply as he still adjusted to the new weight on his chest. Strange and new despite him having worn it before. 

He didn't purposely altar anything. His body was as it was if he had been biologically born a female. Risking alterations risked unnecessary magic and in turn unnecessary risk. 

But it seemed he had inherited his mother's figure. Which was a pain in multiple ways. Including the back it was bound to cause his back. 

"Mother above." Tamlin mumbled as he stretched his arms. 

Lucien was very still, arms crossed, and eyes pinned to the wall. Tamlin watched him from the corner of his eye as he pulled on the thin blue knit top Ianthe had given him. It was fairly loose but tight enough that his figure was highlighted. Then he began to undo his trousers. 

"Have you never seen a female's body before, Lucien?" Tamlin teased as he pulled his trousers down over his hips. 

"I have-!" Lucien's gaze swiftly turned back at the implied insult, but he yelped and turned back away. 

Tamlin rolled his eyes and quickly pulled on the new grey wool pants. 

"You are free to look now." Tamlin said. 

Lucien breathed out through his nose then turned back around. He nodded once then furrowed his brow. 

"What?" Tamlin asked. 

Lucien stammered for a moment before gesturing to Tamlin's chest. Tamlin nearly laughed. 

"They're called tits, Lucien."

"I know- Mother above Tamlin." Lucien huffed, "I mean don't females usually wear.... undergarments for their breasts."

"Oh... yeah." That may possibly be helpful. 

There was silence for a moment, then Tamlin asked, "Where do we get one of those?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"I don't know Lucien, you're out with girls all the time."

"I don't go shopping with them." Lucien said scrunching his face. 

Tamlin sighed, then he slid off the bed, "Well I have to go ask Alis an uncomfortable question. Join me?"

"And watch you stammer as you try to ask, of course." Lucien replied, quickly following after him. 

Tamlin laughed and felt like maybe this would be okay. 

Alis had been lurking just in a room down the hall. Giving some order to the new maids who had been hired. Lucien had walked in first, Tamlin, suddenly insecure of his new form, had hidden behind him. Hands itching to hold onto the back of his shirt, but he already first embarrassed enough as it was. 

When Alis saw them, she quickly straightened and told the girls to shoo. They scattered off with a 'Yes miss,' and a curtsey to the Lords. 

Tamlin did not enjoy how they looked at him confused and hesitantly said 'My lady.' He did not refute them though. 

Once they were gone, Tamlin appeared before Alis more fully and began by saying, "So Alis-"

"This is going to be about bras I'm guessing." Alis said, with one hand on her hip. 

Tamlin blinked, "How did you-"

Alis gestured to his chest, then raised an eyebrow, "You have your mother's form. You can borrow some of hers until we can have some made for you."

"Oh please God no-"

"You have an important guest waiting for you in your office, so you will suck it up, sweetheart." Alis said kindly before leading him back in the direction of his bedroom, Lucien trailing behind. 

"Who is this important guest?" Tamlin asked. 

Alis hesitated for a moment, before ultimately saying, "You will see."

Lucien quickly leaned in a said, "I told you Ianthe is contagious."

Tamlin stifled a laugh as Alis dragged him back into his room. When Lucien attempted to follow in, Alis shut the door in his face. 

"Sorry Lucien!" She called out. 

"No problem!" Lucien called back, "I'll wait here!"

Quickly Alis went over to Tamlin's wardrobe and rifled through for a single box. His mother's possessions which had been cleaned and put away for safe keeping. She eventually looked back up at him. 

"Do you like red?" She asked sweetly. 

"I am going to get a very uncomfortable reality of what my mother went through aren't I?"

"Yes, sweetheart, you are."

***

After Alis finally taught him how the clasps worked, making more than one comment about Feyre must have had to undo all her own bras as he was hopeless. They walked back out. 

True to his word. Lucien was leaning against the wall opposite of the door, fiddling with his nails. As soon as the door opened and Tamlin stepped out, the Fox looked him over. Cheeks flushing red again, but he nodded, then jutted his head in the general direction of his office. 

"Shall we?" Lucien asked. 

"We don't have another choice." Tamlin mumbled. 

Alis told them she would be getting back to work. Then murmured a good luck, which didn't give Tamlin much hope. 

As they walked the halls, Lucien said, "You look good."

"Thanks, enjoy it while it lasts." He knew the effects of pregnancy were many. And many he was not looking forward to. 

Lucien lightly knocked Tamlin's shoulder with his own, "We'll handle everything as it comes."

Tamlin nodded but he couldn't shake the utter worry festering in him. 

Finally, they made it to the closed wood door of his office. Lucien and Tamlin stopped before it. Sharing a look. Tamlin nodded once and Lucien opened the door. 

Tamlin didn't know what he was expecting. A monster maybe, Amarantha back from the dead. Hybern himself. 

But his mind never conjured the idea of Eris Vanserra sitting in his chair. Legs kicked up on his desk, mindlessly playing with one of his pens. 

"Finally!" Eris exclaimed, "Someone deigns to meet me."

Lucien had gone awfully still in front of him. Eris met his eyes, having not seen Tamlin behind him yet, "Brother, I thought your High lord would come himself, but I can always discuss matters with you. You were always quite intelligent."

"Eris." Lucien growled. 

"Easy boy." Eris told him. Voice mocking, "I will not bite... nor burn."

"What are you doing here?" Lucien asked, his voice was a low and harsh. His hand twitched like the youngest Vanserra would like for nothing more than to burn his eldest brother to death. 

"Is it not obvious? I came to see my dear old friend Tam-"

As Eris spoke, Tamlin stepped out from behind Lucien. 

"-lin.... Interesting." Eris mused, a lazy grin spreading across his feline face as he laid further back into Tamlin's chair. 

"Vanserra, kindly get the fuck out of my chair."

After another careful once-over of Tamlin's new form, he said, "But the view from here if quite spectacular."

A smile spread on Tamlin's face, "Then come over here and you may see it better."

"Well, if you insist." Eris said as he easily stood without faltering and walked around the desk. 

In a second Lucien's arm shot out, but Eris tsked, "Such behaviour, littlest brother. I am sure Tamlin is fully capable."

"I trust you, Eris, as far as I can throw you. Which we can both assume would not be very far."

"Right." Eris drawled, side-eying his brother. 

"Enough sibling rivalry. Hello Eris." Tamlin said with a grin. 

Eris turned his attention to his friend, the friend he'd had for four centuries, "Hello Tamlin."

Lucien blinked. Tamlin just nodded to him, and the Fox glared but moved his hand away. 

"What do you need?" Tamlin asked, as long as he had been friends with Eris, he knew this was male never came around for just a friendly check in. 

"Heard on the grapevine that a certain bride ran off with teh High lord of Night. Decided to come around and see what all the fuss was."

Tamlin blinked, then he looked at Lucien who was scowling. 

If word had already reached Eris... How long had he been out for?

"Lucien how long was I asleep?" Tamlin asked. 

Lucien pursed his lips, then he turned to Tamlin and slowly said, "About a day and a half."

Tamlin gaped. He forced his way past Eris, who despicably was taller than him whilst he was female form. He looked out the large window behind his desk and saw that the sun was indeed high in the sky. 

"It's tomorrow?!" Tamlin seethed. 

"I didn't want to worry you so soon after you woke up." Lucien said gently. 

"It would have been helpful to know it was tomorrow!" 

That meant Feyre had already been in the Night Court for a day and a half. Rhysand doing the Gods knew what to her-

"Mother above." Tamlin felt sick. 

"Okay." Lucien hummed, he quickly walked over and took Tamlin's hands. Leading him to the green lounge. Slowly letting him sink into the soft pillows, "Breathe Tamlin."

Tamlin wanted to snap, but even breathing was becoming difficult. 

"What is going on?" Eris asked, concern bleeding into his words. 

Lucien looked between Eris and Tamlin, then leaned into whisper, "Do you wish to tell him?"

"Tell me what?" Eris stepped forward. 

"Eris-!" Lucien stood up, looking as though he would physically remove Eris from the office himself, but Tamlin caught his hand. 

"It's fine Lucien, he can know."

"Are you sure?" Lucien asked. 

Tamlin nodded, then turned to look at Eris who was standing with his arm crossed and eyebrow raised. 

He looked so smug, the one joy Tamlin could find was he about to knock that away. 

"Eris I'm pregnant."

Eris' furrowed his brow. 

A heartbeat passed, and the news sunk in. 

The first son of Autumn's face dropped. His mouth fell open, his eyes widened so most of his whites showed. He quickly put the back of his hand over his mouth as he processed it. 

"What?" Eris managed to choke out. 

In any other situation, Tamlin would have laughed at how the snarky Prince was finally speechless. Right now all he wished to do was cry. 

"Yes." His voice nearly cracked. But he swallowed hard and held his head high. 

"So that's why..." Eris made a gesture to his body and Tamlin wanted to curl up and away from sight.

"Yes." Tamlin said in a far quieter voice to keep the shaking out of his voice. 

"Oh... shit. But Feyre-"

"Is also a shapeshifter," Lucien said. 

Eris looked between Lucien and Tamlin. Occasionally opening his mouth to say something but ultimately choosing not to. 

Then he sat down on the lounge beside Tamlin, eyes blinking, and face still caught in shock, "Well... fuck."

"That was the beginning of the problem." Tamlin said. 

Lucien and Eris chuckled suddenly at Tamlin's attempt at a joke. 

Then the room fell silent again. 

Now that it was out and open, Tamlin couldn't deny it any longer. 

A baby. 

He was having a baby. 

And his fiancé was in the Night Court. Completely unknowing. 

And he was here. 

Tears pressed into his eyes and Tamlin was finally unable to stop them. 

"Oh, love." Lucien whispered. Collecting Tamlin in his arms. 

At the warmth, the love in his embrace. Tamlin was utterly helpless. He cried into his chest, unable to hold it back any longer. 

A warm hand that wasn't Lucien's rubbed up and down his back. 

"I'll murder Rhysand." Eris hissed under his breath. 

Lucien drew in a breath, "Let's just start with handling this week."

***

The week itself ended quicker than Tamlin thought it would. Eris couldn't stay for longer than the rest of the day, but he promised to return again later. 

As for Tamlin, he cried a lot that week. He also broke more than one vase after a nightmare of seeing Feyre underneath Rhysand, screaming for help-

Lucien held him a lot that week. Tamlin hated how dependant he felt on his touch, on his arms around him. Alis had been as open as she could, but even she was busy with training the new hires. And the most comfort Ianthe was physically capable of providing anybody was an awkward pat on the shoulder. 

More than once Lucien and Tamlin wound up in the library. Curled up on a cushioned seat made for one. The fire roaring the manor asleep. 

Tamlin had often tucked his face into Lucien's neck, whilst Lucien held him in his arms. Whispering sweet nothings in his ear to calm him. 

It had been a nice reprieve from the stress. But nothing could put aside the fear he held that at the end of the week Feyre wouldn't be back. 

But she was. 

And something was very, very different. 

Tamlin's first fear was that Rhysand had laid hands on her. But spoke little of what had happened during the week. 

"Anything, anything you learned, anything they told you." Lucien said, as Feyre glared at him from her seat. 

Her eyes were colder, her gaze piercing. She shook her head, "They told me nothing of value. I just stayed in his palace until the weeks end."

Tamlin nodded, finding comfort in that least, "He didn't touch you?"

Feyre shook her head and Tamlin wanted to thank the Mother. 

"That's good."

At least they had that reassurance. 

But why collect her now?

What game are you playing Rhysand?

***

"Feyre! Thank the Mother and Cauldron and every holy item in her trove!" Ianthe exclaimed as the taller female wrapped the Cursebreaker in a hug hard enough to crush. 

The air whooshed from Feyre's lungs and she gasped. But her shock overode the pain. Ianthe was hugging her. Being physically affectionate. 

That was... a first. 

Then she quickly pulled back and cupped Feyre's face, moving her head back and forth as she inspected the younger woman for injuries of any kind. 

"The Mother will wreak havoc on that male if he has harmed you. He never touched you, did he?" She asked quickly. 

Feyre shook her head. "No Ianthe, he did nothing to me."

"Oh, the Mother is kind and merciful." Ianthe then pulled her into another embrace. 

"Ianthe you- can't breathe."

"Oh, oh no." Ianthe quickly released her, "Sorry."

Feyre took in a breath and rubbed her sore ribs, "It's fine, really."

Ianthe nodded, then she scowled at her clothes, "Come flower, we'll get these atrocious fabrics off of you."

As much as Feyre wished to snap they were not atrocious, that she had learned to love the clothing she was in. That she didn't want to put on the clothes of Spring, but she nodded and silently allowed Ianthe to lead her back inside. 

Tamlin she saw next. Her initial reaction was shock because of who she saw standing in place of the normally broad hunter-like male. 

She saw Tamlin, in the same female form he had been in the night they shared together several months ago. A loose green silk dress adorned his figure, curving around his full breasts and slightly smaller waist. He was slightly shorter but still much taller than Feyre. Now Ianthe's height. Though Ianthe could not be called a short woman at all. 

"Feyre." He breathed, before rushing to pull her into hsi arms. 

Feyre let him, not knowing why the usual passion she felt for him was missing. 

***

The Tithe came and Tamlin was sick several times before it began. Lucien stayed with him in the bathroom for over half an hour just holding back his hair and rubbing his back. 

By the time he had to make an appearance he felt like going to sleep for a thousand years. He was tired and so, so fucking sick of it all. 

"Are you sure you're well enough to do this?" 

"Not at all." Tamlin said. 

He was nowhere near well enough to do this, but life wasn't fair especially to him. So, he sucked it up but on a fake smile and walked out into the throne room where Feyre was already waiting with Ianthe. The two were talking about something or other and the conversation halted as he entered, and the Tithe began. 

It was nearly as disastrous as the wedding. Ending with once again Feyre storming out. 

Tamlin knew what it must've looked like to her. He himself nearly felt bad for the Faery, but he also knew they had found their way here from Summer during the fifty years and had never participated in the Tithe before. He already had the complaint that they didn't want to. 

But until the treasures were at least partially recovered from Under the Mountain, and trade was back and running through the Courts. They needed the Tithe. 

It was one thing that Feyre said that pissed him off enough that he didn't go after her himself. 

"We already have enough jewels."

As if the Tither's collections were for him. As if most, if not all of it went into the salaries for his staff, housing for his people, the workers and the farmers supplies and defences for Spring. 

Tamlin had stormed back to his room. It didn't help that he felt fucking useless, helpless, in this form. In a delicate state he couldn't risk too much. 

Worst of all he hated the way he now had to dress in it to appear proper. He hated the way his body looked. And he hated knowing how the baby would ruin how he looked. 

For years his body had been the one thing in his life had control of. Then Amarantha had forced him and his Court Under the Mountain and his body too was stripped from him. 

Eyes roaming exposed skin, taking what didn't belong to it-

He just got his body back and now it was taken again. Now the love of his life was being taken from him a week a month.

Tamlin stormed to his room and locked the door. He then ran to his bed, grabbed the nearest pillow and screamed into it. He pulled back inhaled then screamed into again. 

Then he threw the pillow to the floor like it was personally responsible for years of agony. 

He wanted to destroy the entire room. Feel the thrill of shredding fabric and breaking furniture under his claws. 

But he was fucking tired. 

He collapsed onto his bed, grabbed another pillow and screamed into that as well. Before tossing it across the room, it hit the wall with a thud. 

Tamlin closed his eyes, and for a brief moment, he hoped he never opened them. 

There was a knock at his door. 

"Go away!" Tamlin shouted. 

"I wasn't going to come in." Ianthe answered, "I just wanted to tell you Feyre is safe in her room, but Rhysand will be collecting her tomorrow."

Oh shit.

Fuck no-

Tamlin sat up straight, but Ianthe called out, "Before you come rushing out this is a hallway with two closed doors at either end and no other women are here so let me leave first."

Tamlin huffed but sat back down, Ianthe then said, "She also doesn't want to see you, but I believe Lucien is waiting in the library."

Tamlin wanted to ask why he should care if Lucien was waiting in the library, but her heard her footsteps leaving and the door of the hallway opening and closing. 

"Mother help me." Tamlin mumbled as he stood up and finally left. 

He passed Feyre's room and at first his body screamed top open the door and see her. But Ianthe's warning came to mind. He sighed but left it alone. 

Lucien was in fact in the library. Sprawled across the sae chair they had spent the week curled up together in. He was deeply entrenched in what he was reading. But he looked up at the sound of Tamlin's footsteps. 

Lucien smiled, putting his book down he opened his arms, "Come here, baby."

"Fuck." Tamlin whispered under his breath before rushing to Lucien and falling into his arms, sobbing relentlessly into his dhoulder. 

"I'm so fucking pathetic." He cried. 

"No you're not, Tam, no you're not." Lucine murmured. 

"I can't even protect the one person I'm supposed to protect."

"I know, Tam, I know." Lucien kept him wrapped in his warm arms. They stayed holding each other for hours, until Tamlin ran out of tears and fell into exhaustion, finally sleeping, despite the slightly awkward position. 

At some point after Tamlin had fallen asleep someone knocked on the threshold and Lucien looked up to see Alis at the door, and behind her was Eris. 

The eldest Vanserra walked in, needing no further introduction from Alis, who just nodded to Lucien before slipping away. 

Eris sat in a lounge next to Lucien, simply saying, "I'll stay with him this week when you can't."

"Why do you care?" Lucien asked. 

"Because he would do the same for me."

***

The week came and went. Same as ever. Except that this time Eris did stay. 

As much as Tamlin just wanted to sleep for a week and wake up whenever Feyre was back, he was a High lord and lately one thing stood on the forefront of his mind. The bargain Feyre had made. 

Books upon books were open on his desk. Scattered across the ground, papers scrunched littered the floor. Eris was sitting in the green lounge, also flipping through the old books they had taken from the library. 

"Nothing." Eris stated, letting the book nag onto the coffee table. 

"Could you at least try to be helpful?" Tamlin growled, though it did not sound the same in his female form it was just as intimidating. Though Eris, as per usual, was not impressed. 

"I'd much rather be a nuisance." Eris said deadpan. Tamlin rolled his eyes. 

"Gods above." Tamlin cursed. 

Was there no way out of this?

Here is the link to chapter three!