#hope the next one is longer...we'll see how it goes...

[thenoellebird]

So Part Eight of our favorite one is out--

WHAT IF FORD KICKED STAN OUT IMMEDIATELY IS UPDATED Y'ALL!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63731800/chapters/165762994

EEENJOY peeps. With that I need to go finish this chemistry postlab, go downstairs and study a cat in the other lab, and then find some dinner since I haven't eaten since breakfast, go do a workout with my one friend and hang with my other friend.

*phew.* okay that being said, enjoy your chapter, I'll see you next time. I am currently sleep deprived, plagued by ants, half dead and trying to survive because trauma processing is deciding that smoothness aint a thing and I need to feel sad and zone out in class (NOT helping my grades).

*big sigh* that's why this chapter is late. I was stuck on the last page for a bit because everything was moving so dang quickly.

Hope you like it though!

That's me, by the way

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

wait, Derin how did your leaving make the hospital shut down?

I used to work as a live-in nanny for a pediatrician.

Now, the thing about hospitals in my country is that they are massively understaffed and massively underfunded. This is especially true outside the major cities. The staff are worked to the bone and receive little to no help in things like finding accommodation or childcare, making working in rural areas a very uninviting prospect; staff come out here, get lumped with the work of three people (because there's nobody else to do it), burn out under the workload and leave, meaning that those remaining have even more work because that person is gone. It's unsustainable and the medical staff are doing their best to sustain it, because people die if they don't, so to the higher-ups it looks like everything's getting done and therefore everything is fine.

My friend (and boss) worked one week on, one week off, swapping out with another pediatrician. This was necessary because it would not be physically possible for one person to handle the workload for longer periods of time. The one single pediatrician had to hold up the entire pediatrics ward, which was not only the only public hospital pediatrics ward in our town, but also the one that served all the towns around us for a few hours' drive in all directions. I regularly saw her go to work sick, aching, tired, or with a debilitating 'I can barely make words or see' level migraine, because if she took a day off, twenty children didn't get healthcare that day, and some of these kids' appointments were scheduled weeks in advance. She'd work long hours in the day and then be called in a couple of times overnight for an hour or two at a time (she was on-call at night too, because somebody had to be), and then go in the next day. Sometimes she would be forced to take a day off because she physically could not stay awake for longer than a few minutes at a time, meaning she couldn't drive to work.

Cue my niece's second birthday coming up in Melbourne. I'd been working for her for about 3 years, and she (and the hospital) had plenty of advance warning that I (and therefore she) needed one (1) Friday off. That's fine, we'll find someone to work that Friday, the hospital said. Right up until the last week where they're like "oh, we can't find a replacement; you can come in, can't you?"

No, she tells them; I don't have anyone to watch my kid that day.

Oh, surely you can hire a babysitter for this one day, they say. Think of the children! We really really need you to work that day. I know we said it'd be fine but we need you now, there's no one else to do it.

There are no other babysitters, she told them. Unless you can find one?

That's not our responsibility, they said.

But I'm not changing my plans, she's got plans by now as well, the hospital knew about this one day weeks in advance, and with absolutely no reserve staff they're forced to reschedule all pediatrics appointments for that Friday. Not a huge deal, it happens on the 'physically too overworked to get out of bed' days too. I go to Melbourne, she goes back to her home in Adelaide for her recovery week, all should be on track.

My niece gives me Covid.

This was way back in the first wave of the pandemic, and there were no Covid vaccines yet. The rules were isolate, mask up, hope. I had Covid in the house, and it would've been madness for my friend and her toddler to come back into the Covid house instead of staying in Adelaide. There was absolutely no way that a pediatrician could live with someone in quarantine due to Covid and go to work in the hospital with sick children every day. And no support existed for finding another babysitter, or temporary accommodation, so the hospital was down a pediatrician.

The other pediatrician wasn't available to do a three-week stint. They were also trapped in Adelaide on their well-earned week off.

Meaning that the only major pediatrics ward within a several-hour radius had no pediatricians. They had to shut down and send all urgent cases to Adelaide for the week. To the complete absence of surprise of any of the doctors or nurses; of course this would happen, this was bound to happen, it presumably keeps happening. But probably to the surprise of the higher-ups. After all, the hospital was doing fine, right? Of course all the staff were complaining of overwork and a lack of resources in every meeting, but they could always be fobbed off with the promise of more help sometime in the future; the work was mostly getting done, so the issue couldn't be too urgent.

It's not like some nanny who doesn't even work for the hospital could go out of town for a weekend for the first time in three years, and get the only public pediatrics ward in the area shut down for a week.

[legendofmorons]

Written in the stars ( forever on loop) chapter twelve - everybody talks

Pairing: eventual poly! Chain x reader, Wind & Reader

Rating: T

Summary: Thanks to the group getting split up, everyone has some time to talk. This makes things both better and worse but conversations actually happen.

(Aka: Wind is an unpaid therapist with a kid's bias on relationship, Wars and Legend talk, reader is trying to practice being patient, Wild is a sweetheart, and the three men best at repressing are alone together.)

Warnings: cursing

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know.

Previous masterlist next

-------

Two days after what your brain has so helpfully dubed 'the Dink and friends incident,' your group gets split up thanks to several monsters and a rock slide with truly abysmal timing.

(The only thing with worse timing than the rock slide would be a room full of fifty metronomes that are all at different tempos.)

You find yourself with Wild, Hyrule, Four, Spooky, and Epona.

You aren't sure how the others are split up, but right now, your goal is to find a place to meet up with the others. Hopefully you can find a town or a large landmark.

Hyrule is magically out of juice and has a sprained ankle to boot. The man limps along with the help of an impromptu walking stick Wild finds.

Two hours after the rock slide finds your group staring at a forest.

This forest looks like... a forest.

Lots of trees and moss.

No helpful landmarks, unfortunately.

The sun is steadily sinking in the sky as it gets cooler.

Shadows grow longer as time passes.

"Is that a river?" Hyrule asks as he falls still.

"Where?" You ask as you glance around.

You don't see anything, but you aren't about to entirely discount the frequent explorer.

"That way," Wild points towards the left. "It's hard to hear, but it's there."

Four just nods. "You're sure?"

"As long as no one pushes me in, I'll go to a river," You try to crack a joke.

All eyes snap to you, and none of them look like they think it's funny.

Four's eyes seem to glint blue in the light.

Hyrule looks sea sick.

Wild looks ready to take be sick.

"If we follow the river, we'll probably find civilization," Wild says after a good moment of tense silence.

You nod. That sounds like something you've heard before. "Okay."

"It's getting dark," Hyrule frowns. "We should consider making camp."

"We should still try to go near the river," Wild says.

Four nods, beginning to walk towards the river. "Let's go then."

You follow after him, hoping to be able to meet up with some of the others at least. It's also nice not to fall behind and all.

Spooky and Epona follow you side by side.

The panther's tail lashes slowly side to side as their ears stay on a swivel.

Wild and Hyrule take up the rear.

The four of you and your animal companions make your way towards the river.

Probably half an hour or so passes before you can see the river and choose to make camp next to the bank.

In that time, you end up slipping Epona a carrot and Spooky some jerky.

With twenty feet between the river bank and your quickly made fire circle or rocks, you feel pretty okay with the placement.

Epona and Spooky both go to drink from the river while you help get the fire going to make dinner.

"So, I can take first shift for watch?" Hyrule offers as he settles his weight onto his good leg.

"No," you say immediately.

"What?" Hyrule says.

"No, you need to sleep and recharge," you tell him firmly.

You don't understand how he can be so stubborn when you know full well of someone else does the same thing he would mother hen them until the sun goes down.

He's such a hypocrite.

"I can't leave Wild and Four to take longer shifts!" Hyrule protests as he throws a hand up.

You take a deep breath before you state what seems obvious. At least it seems obvious to you. "I'll take a shift on watch."

"No," Four says immediately from behind you, causing you to jump a little.

"And why not?" You ask as you turn to look at him.

His eyes almost glint blue and purple both as if they are glowing? Weird.

Four just stares at you, "Are you serious right now?"

"Why can't I take watch? I can handle it."

"You aren't an experienced fighter," Hyrule says softly. It isn't cold, but it feels like ice in your veins anyway.

"Isn't the point of watch having someone who can wake everyone up in an emergency?" You ask as you remind yourself this is not them insulting you.

This is your boys being their heroic and stubborn selves.

This isn't about your abilities.

This isn't about your weaknesses.

This is about your boys trying to protect you like they try to protect everyone.

"It is, but still, you aren't experienced. Wild and I will just take longer watches," Four says firmly, crossing his arms as he watches you with an intensity that should unnerve you.

It dosen’t.

Not from Four.

Not when you know it isn't anger but worry driving the intensity.

You scoff anyway because even though he dosen’t make you nervoushe does hit a button. You raise a brow, irritation rising. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yes!" Four snaps.

"Oh my god," you sigh, trying to shove down the irrational urge to snap right back at him. That won't help, and he is trying to help he's just doing a bad job. "Four, I am not so stupid that I can't wake you up if something happens."

"I never - I never said you were stupid."

"You're treating me like I am."

"I-"

"If any of the others offered you'd let them in a heartbeat. I'm not an experienced adventurer, and I'm no hero, but I can scream or wake you up," you grit out.

"We just worry about you," Hyrule says as he steps closer. "All we want is to help."

"Then stop running yourselves ragged while doing things that I can actually do!" You say sharply as you shoot him a look.

Hyrule flinches at the tone you use. "(Y/n) it's not like that."

You grit your teeth and take another deep breath. Losing your temper may be easy sometimes, but it dosen’t accomplish anything good.

Not really.

"I know I'm not the best fighter," you say as you turn back to look at Four. "I know I'm not the strongest or the fastest. I'm not the best forager or hunter, so I get why you guys don't have me do things like that, but I am capable of waking people up and keeping an eye on camp for a few hours."

Your words make both Hyrule and Four shrink in on themselves.

Guilt laces into both of their postures.

(There's a small part of you that feels vindicate, but that is the part of you that comes from trauma.)

You just sigh, slow and heavy.

All that you really want is for them to treat you normally.

"(Y/n) is right," Wild pipes up, setting up the cooking pot.

You nearly forgot he is here.

"What?" Four balks as he looks to the champion.

"We've been babying them in ways that are unfair," Wild clarifies.

You turn to look at him and offer a weak smile in thanks.

"It's not like that!" Hyrule's protests.

"You don't mean it like that, but that's how it comes off, Hyrule," you say as you turn to look at the traveler.

Hyrule swallows hard, staring at you with wide eyes that make your heart break a little. "I didn't realize."

"I know."

"I trust you to take watch if you think you're ready," Wild says as he dumps food into the pot.

"Thank you."

"I trust you too," Hyrule says immediately, voice tight and shaking. "I didn't mean to make you think otherwise."

"I know, it's just frustrating sometimes," you admit.

Four sighs heavily, sounding more guilty than anything when he speaks. "I trust you too, I just don't want you to get hurt and not be able to get help."

You nod, taking another slow breath. You know he's trying to help.

You know that he has all this grief getting thrown up like silt in water thanks to you.

None of that negates the frustration of being babied and outcast. Even with their best intentions, it still sucks.

"I get that, but I'll never learn if you never let me try," you tell them with what you hope is a patient tone.

"I know," Four says softer. "I do I just... I don't know."

"Okay."

"We'll try to do better," Hyrule says in that same tight voice.

"I really appreciate that, thank you," you say to him.

("Don't say Please and Thank you to the fae. It implies obligation and power dynamics. Use other phrases," A man with brown curls chides you gently. "I won't ever hold those against you, but others might.")

Hyrule just nods. He looks like he's shaking.

"We'll talk to the others about it too," Wild adds.

"Thank you, Wild."

------

Wind wakes up with a general distaste for the sun as he burrows into the pillow beneath him.

He can hear talking near him, sounding as if it keeps getting louder.

Something is wrong...

"Of course I'm worried," Legend hisses to the right. "They're accident prone!"

"Can't you focus on helping Wind? His leg is messed up!" Warriors hisses right back.

Wind dosen’t know what this is about but he wishes he could ignore it easier.

"That's rich coming from you! You were worried about them too!"

"They're inexperienced!"

"I know!" Legend snaps right back.

Wind sighs heavily as he burrows deeper into his sleeping nest. He dosen’t have energy for this.

"You don't know! They're - I can't let them get hurt!" Warriors all but snarls.

Wind wants a re-do where he can get get a new group, please.

"I do know! I can't just - you don't get it," Legend groans.

"No, you don't get it!" Warriors scoffs.

There's a shuffle of fabric, and Wind considers the merit of sneaking away right now to find the others and escape whatever this is.

"If you knew who (Y/n) is...," Legend starts darkly before he makes a sound he covers with a cough and falls silent.

There's a good minute of tense silence.

Wind just resigns himself to whatever fate this is.

Maybe if he pretends to sleep it will make him fall asleep again.

"You know," Warriors breathes out in a tone that is something between aching awe and deep despair.

"You know," Legend says in a breathless deluge of grief. "I didn't - I didn't want to tell anyone."

"It seems so cruel," Wars laughs bitterly.

"It's like I'm losing my mind. I'm not sure they even know and then they bring back a fucking panther!"

"It's (Y/n), of course they bring back a panther," Warriors breathes fondly.

"It's (Y/n)," Legend agrees.

Wind is starting to wonder if his brothers are sick or something. Nothing they say makes any sense, and they sound borderline delirious.

The sailor is about ready to demand answers.

"What are we going to do? We can't tell the others," Warriors groans. "It'll break them."

Wind groans into his pillow. He hopes that the others aren't being like this wherever they are.

"We just stay quiet. No one has to know (Y/n) is (Y/n)."

"They're our literal soulmate. It's driving them to grief, Legend. Do we keep them seperate?"

"We just - act normal?" Legend frowns.

Wind groans as he sits up. "What the hell are you on about? Soulmates? Secrets? You're both too loud!"

Warriors and Legend go very still, both of their gazes sliding to the grumpy pirate.

Wind just glares at them, turning his head to make sure they both get a full dose of his sleepy ire.

"How... much did you hear?" Warriors asks.

"Too much. What are you even talking about?" Wind groans as he runs his hands down his face. "Is this why you're all being weird and assholes?"

"I - Language!" Warriors snaps on auto pilot.

"Can you just explain things?" Wind asks as he gives the captain a dirty look.

"Kid it's not- it's not that easy," Legend sighs.

Wind just groans, "You haven't even tried to explain. I'm not stupid, you know."

"What... do you know about the Hero's Soulmate?" Warriors asks softer.

Wind frowns, "Isn't that a fairytale?"

"No," Legend says bitterly, "It isn't. It just never ends well."

"Okay? So what does that have to do with (Y/n)?" Wind asks.

He has no idea what they are on about.

The Hero's Soulmate is real, which is great and all he guesses, but so what? Soulmates can't possibly be perfect like the fairytale say.

Soulmates are just people.

People are messy.

"Wind, (Y/n) is our soulmate, but they're on a different reincarnated cycle," Warriors explains gently.

"Okay. That explains why they're cool, but why are you all so weird?" Wind raises a brow.

"I - (Y/n) always dies young in a horrible way. There's a curse on our soulmate cycle," Legend sighs as he looks away.

Wind just sighs heavily. "So you're being weird because your soulmate is here and you lost them?"

"The others don't know," Warriors says immediately.

Wind is now aware his brothers are all incredibly stupid.

If you have the chance to be with someone you already lost or that you'll lose again soon, why waste it being stiff?

"You're both stupid. (Y/n) may not remember, but if they're really your soulmate then just be their friend. They could use friends and not whatever you've been to them," Wind rolls his eyes.

He doesn't understand. The others - like many 'adults' - make everything so much harder than it has to be.

If (Y/n) is always their soulmate why make everyone so tense?

Oh-

Wait a minute now...

Well that explains why Wind gets along so well with both you and his own (Y/n).

He isn't so sure about the 'romance' thing right now, but why would romance ever matter if you can't be friends to begin with? (Romance sounds gross, honestly, but that might just be him.)

All Wind knows is that if you are the Hero's Soulmate, then you fit into the life of the hero as someone trustworthy and important.

The others just have their heads in the sand.

"It's not that easy," Legend sighs as he sinks to sit on a log by the dead coals.

"He's right," Warriors bemoans, "It's never that easy."

Wind scoffs, "You're both so stupid. Just treat them like a person!"

"You make it sound so easy," Legend groans as he looks up.

"That it, no more talking from either of you," Wind says as he starts putting away his bedding.

"Wind-"

"Your grounded from talking."

"Just... don't tell the others?" Legend tries.

Wind groans loudly in protest of this topic still happening.

-------

Twilight sighs as he eats some of his jerky rations in place of actual lunch, but with Wild holding most of the food stores there's only so much to do about food. He leans back against the tree as he lets some of his weight ease off his sore feet.

"Y'know somethin'?" Twilight asks with a snort, "I always forge' how lost we git withou' Wild."

Time chuckles, shaking his head. "I just hope that Hyrule isn't cooking for anyone."

"Oh Hylia, don't remind me," Sky groans playfully.

"Hey, we tol' (Y/n) 'bout Hyrule's cookin', yeah?" Twilight asks, dread blooming in his stomach.

Every ounce of grief that you stir up just by being can take a long walk of a very short pier in the face of you facing the unique cooking of their traveler. Common decency and his raising both demand his concern.

Time stays silent, either thinking or silently praying you aren't going to learn the hat way... Twilight can't say.

"I don't think we did..." Sky says slowly, "But maybe they can cook?"

"Oh nex' time we see 'em, we gotta warn 'em" Twilight says as the blood drains from his face.

"Agreed," Sky says.

Time nods firmly.

"How'd'ya think it split, anyway?" Twilight asks.

"Oh I'm sure Wind, Spooky, and (Y/n) are together," Time shakes his head. "Hyrule and Legend are probably with Four."

"What about Wild and Warriors?" Sky asks as he tilts his head.

"Wild is probably by himself," Time muses lightly, taking a bite of an apple before he continues. "And Warriors is probably with Wind and (Y/n)."

"I jus' hope Epona is with one'a them 'n not lost," Twilight sighs heavily.

If he's going to be honest in front of Ordona and everyone else... Twilight hopes Epona is with you.

You may not be his Darlin', but your as close as anyone can get and Epona adores you for it.

You always slip his horse snacks and tell her how good she is.

Twilight may have a hard time being around you, but seeing Epona happy is always so nice.

"I'm sure she's okay, she's a smart girl," Time says soothingly.

"Stubborn too," Sky grins.

Twilight huffs fondly, "Ya don't say."

"Oh, but I do," Sky chuckles.

"Yer a menace," Twilight shakes his head fondly.

"Finish your food, we should hit the road again soon," Time says, though he sounds rather indulgent for the time being.

Twilight does as he's told and eats a bit more jerky.

Now that he's let you into his mind, he can't get you out of it...

Oh, who is he kidding? You're always on his mind these days.

He's a right coward for how he acts around you. He knows that!

You deserve better. You haven't dome a single thing to him or the others and he's keeping you at such a distance it isn't even arm's length! It might as well be at eternity length.

Twilight knows he's making a fool of himself and the way he was raised. He's treating you like a no good snake...

Some hero he is.

Twilight dosen’t know how Sky and now Legend and Warriors do it. He does understand how they interact with you without breaking down on the spot.

Even as the Twilight follows Time and Sky onto the trail again his mind lingers on you.

He hopes you're okay, and that you're not alone.

He hopes you're with Wind.

He hopes nothing else tries to claim your life.

Twilight can't help but wonder if you slept last night.

He wonders if you're eating okay.

"I think I see some buildings in the distance," Sky muses as he points towards the tree line.

"It's worth checking out," Time says.

Twilight swap his thoughts. He has other things to do.

"Here's hopin' th' others see it too," Twilight offers with his best little grin.

Time sets a hand on his shoulder, firm and warm. The touch is grounding in a way Twilight didn't know he needs until now.

"We'll find them soon," Time says.

Sky nods, nudging Twilight's side lightly. "You know even if we don't find them they'll find us, right? They're all persistent like that."

Twilight laughs, soft but real. "I know."

-------

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[hauntedwitch04]

Wrong time, right person

Azriel x reader

Words: about 3.3k words

Warnings: smut, smut, Iforgot to say smut, and Azzy himself ;)

Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. Hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 3: Sex pollen

It's an easy mission they said.

Touch and go, they won't even know you passed by they said.

Assholes. Liars. Bastards. Especially liars though.

This is all I can think of as the Shadowsinger and I find ourselves running through the trees being chased by the guards of the lord we had gone to spy on. Someone must have warned of our arrival, because a few minutes after arriving on the spot, we were already surrounded by enemies. We fought to the end, but were forced to retreat into the woods, seeking safety in escaping through that labyrinth of logs, hoping that those stupid enforcers would not be able to follow us.

It seems like hours that we are running when we finally decide to stop, in the vicinity of a cave, so that we can find refuge from the darkness and our pursuers.

"We finally lost those assholes." My companion comments, sitting back against the cave wall, leaning his head against the rock and showing his neck, leaving it exposed to my gaze.

That simple gesture kindles a fire in me that burns brightly, and I feel compelled to look away. I close my head between my legs and feel Azriel's gaze on me as he approaches. I feel him rest a hand on my shoulder, and I can't help but moan at that simple contact. I feel my cheeks get hot, but he doesn't flinch and asks me worriedly, "Hey, are you okay?" I can't bring myself to look at his face so I nod slightly still with my head between my legs and mutter a nonsensical apology. He still tries for a moment to wrest the truth from my lips, but I don't even flinch for a second. Azriel, seeing then that I did not intend to explain anything, stands up.

"I'm going to gather some wood for the fire, or we'll freeze to death tonight." He says, as he approaches the exit of the cave. I glimpse from below my knees the color of the sky, which is now turning blue.

"Okay, I'll stay here." I tell him in a whisper loud enough for him to hear me. I guess he nods, before walking out of our shelter, leaving me to think about why I took that action earlier. Ever since we escaped from the building I feel a strange sensation permeating my body, but I hadn't given it too much thought before since my priority was to run away from the guards, but it's as if after all that effort that feeling has expanded to the nth degree. It almost feels as if my body no longer belongs to me: I feel a wet sensation between my panties, while the fabric of my T-shirt brushing against the skin of my breasts sends shivers down my spine as my nipples harden against my bra. I squeeze my thighs together trying to ease that sensation, but it all proves futile. I feel a wave of embarrassment rise through my body again, thinking that this is all due only to a small gesture from the Shadowsinger.

Eventually I decide to lie down and try to get some sleep hoping that with a good dose of rest the next day I would wake up feeling better than I am now. I lie down with some difficulty on the floor only to fall unconscious in the arms of Morpheus after a few seconds.

But all is in vain, because in the middle of the night I suddenly wake up all sweaty. I sit up while with one hand I hold my chest. I feel the fire from before writhing in my gut, and on instinct my other hand goes to my center automatically, but realizing my gesture I immediately freeze.

Azriel was sitting in front of the fire, and seeing me feeling so sick he immediately approaches me, touching my forehead to feel if I had a fever. Immediately he retracts his hand feeling how hot I am, and makes me lie of me.

"You try to lie to me one more time about feeling good, and I swear I will never make you go on a mission with me again, and I will make sure Rhysand doesn't either." Says Azriel, as he removes part of my suit, to let the cold night wind cool me down a little. I again find myself letting escape a moan of pleasure as I feel that cool night breeze brush against my warm skin. I feel my nipples becoming turgid as I somehow try to get away from the Shadowsinger's constant touch, which is only making the situation I am in worse.

"I would say now is not the time to lecture me Az." I reply as I try to catch my breath. The Illyrian looks conflicted, but finally stands up and looks me straight in the eye.

"I'll try to do something. You stay here, and in case you give a yell, I'll be back here in less than a second." Says Azriel before disappearing into the night.

I stay looking at the place where he disappeared for a few minutes, trying to distract myself from the feeling of pain and the impossibility of having what my body desires, but finally I give in and begin to slowly run the fingers of my right hand over my center. I immediately feel the pain lessen, but like a drug, this never seems to be enough and I need more and more. My other hand wanders down my body until it rests on my breast and I begin to stimulate one of my nipples. My right hand I run it under my pants and for the first time my fingers come in contact with the wet lips of my pussy.

I remain in that limbo situation for what feels like an eternity experiencing enough pleasure to not die of pain and at the same time not enough to be completely well.

After what seems like hours, I hear Azriel's heavy footsteps getting closer. Quickly I try to look presentable, but immediately the lack of that little antidote causes me more pain than I felt before. I feel twinges in my abdomen that make me bend over, but despite this I look up at the man in front of me, and I cannot help but curse Mother for creating such a perfect being: he has not slept in days, he is drenched in sweat and tired, and yet he continues to be the most attractive person I have ever seen.

He stops to catch his breath, and only then do I realize that he no longer has the cape he was wearing before, in fact now his muscular arms are clearly evident, thanks in part to the tank top he was wearing.

"Where did your cloak go?" I ask, trying to distract myself in a very unsatisfactory way.

"I had to give it to Suriel, to get him to help me understand what you have." He says casually as he approaches me. At that gesture I try to pull away, but he doesn't let me, resting his hands on my shoulders. He then places his lips on my forehead to test whether I still have a fever. That gesture again unleashes a fire capable of burning whole woods in my stomach, and I groan, almost in pain, pushing him away from me.

"Did I hurt you?" Azriel asks worriedly, and I wave him off, so as not to worry him, but he doesn't seem convinced.

"What did Suriel tell you?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Well, as we were running away you spilled a jar of powders on yourself as we were going through that sorceress's store, remember?" Azriel says, looking at the ground, as if ashamed. I nod, remembering very well that damned jar, which made me sneeze for several minutes.

"You didn't read the label on that jar, did you?" He continues vaguely, so much so that nervous and without patience, I force him to look at me before answering him.

"Of course I didn't have time to look at it Az, go straight to the point." I say impatiently. His cheeks turn red, and he stammers something under his breath that I can't understand at first, so I ask him to repeat it. He raises his eyes and fixes his in mine, before repeating what he had tried to say before.

"It was sex pollen, the one that spilled on you." He says finally, and I feel the blood freeze in my veins, still in shock from the revelation he threw at me. "And according to Suriel, the only way to keep you from dying right now is to...well you know, go along with what your instincts are asking you to do."

"Thank you for explaining in such a nice way that I have to masturbate Az, really very nice." I say almost angry at him, even though I know I'm not really. I'm partly angry at myself for putting myself in that situation, but I can't do anything about it now, and now I'm also in danger of dying.

"Hey, I'm trying my best." He replies, scratching the back of his neck with his right hand, looking embarrassed.

"I know, I know Az, it's just-" I pause for a moment, trying to find a way to say it. I take a big breath and keep talking. "I've already tried touching myself, alone, down there, but it didn't do much good." I confess in a low voice, hoping he won't hear it, but unfortunately Shadowsinger's hearing is too acute to miss my confession. He freezes for a moment as if he is about to reason out what to do, then speaks again.

"I know." Azriel says in a guilty tone.

"What do you mean you know?" I ask shocked as I look at him, not understanding what he was referring to.

"Well the Suriel may or may not have told me that you would not be healed this way. "He continues as he watches the fire casting beams of light on the walls of the cave we are in. I stop again, and begin to reflect on all that I knew about these powders as I feel the pain getting worse and worse. By now I can feel my panties completely wet, as every single contact with what's around me unleashes a series of shivers that reaches to my core.

"I thought that was enough...well you get it. In all the books dealing with pollen with potential danger they say that's enough, be satisfied." I try to explain, as I draw a groan caused by my shifting which resulted in clenching my thighs together.

"I thought so too, but he said this doesn't count if-" He freezes as if he cannot find the words. I, growing more and more impatient, ask him aloud to continue.

"Az just doesn't seem like the time to be shy." I urge him to speak.

"He said it's not enough when you're in close proximity to your mate." He blurts out, standing up sharply. I squint my eyes not believing what my ears have just heard, but I immediately understand that feeling that has long been building in my heart toward my mate. Well I would say more than friend. I feel something forming in my chest that takes shape through a golden thread extending from my sternum to that of Azriel, who is currently turned his back to me as he looks out of the cave as if in the same there is the answer to this problem. Immediately I feel that silly happiness I felt at having found my mate, and that he was the man I actually loved all my life already disintegrating under the idea that he didn't want all that.

"You don't have to." I whisper, in the grip of ever-worsening cramps, but right now they seem like nothing more than mild pain compared to what my heart was feeling.

"You don't understand, if we don't do this, you will die and I won't let you die." He counters by turning around and dropping to his knees at my height looking me straight in the eye.

"I don't want your pity." I reply harshly as I try to get out of his sight, unable to do much given my condition, because I don't want him to see my suffering and the pain his rejection has triggered in me.

"No, I don't want my mate, the woman I've loved all my life to die and I'm pissed off at Mother because I didn't want it to happen like this between us the first time. I wanted to do everything right, take you to dinner, confess under the stars and then make love to you in my bed between the sheets I had specially chosen your favorite color, not on the floor in a stupid cave after risking our lives! When I knew you were my mate I wanted nothing more than to thank Mother, fate or whoever, but now I hate them because they had to pass the anger they vent on me to you, and I don't want to see you suffer because of me." He blurts out as he begins to walk around the cave again, then finishes his speech by looking at me. A strange light sparkles in his eyes, they look like the eyes of someone who loves to the point of being sick, to the point of suffering, and that love right now is directed at me. I can't believe his words, but that connection makes me feel that everything he just said is the truth, and immediately the happiness I lost a few moments ago returns, along with hope.

"We can still do it." I confess in a whisper and he immediately turns to me, his eyebrows furrowed over his beautiful eyes. "We can do it once we get home. We'll tell Rhys they can go screw him and his missions, and we'll take some time to figure this out and get used to it, and we can do everything you just said, because believe me I want to do all that with you."

"But?" He asks as he approaches.

"But now all I need is you fucking me as hard as you can in this shitty place so that I can stop dying and talk to you without having to moan every time." I say, as I grab his shirt with one hand, since he was now close enough to me, and kiss him with all the passion in my body.

I feel like I can finally breathe again as my lips on his, and I can already feel the pollen fade as the urge to feel Azriel inside me increases without measure.

"As my lady wishes." Whispers the Illiryan on my lips as we pull away from that breathless kiss. I immediately feel his lips graze my neck, to start biting and sucking on it as if his life depended on it. Every single movement of his lips and tongue made me touch the sky with one finger as I moaned his name as if I were a priestess intent on making a prayer and he the deity I believe in.

His lips then move from my neck to my breasts, where he begins to suck on my nipples like a hungry child. I bring my hands into his hair and pull them every time his tongue touches one of my sensitive spots.

"Baby doll, if you pull my hair one more time, I don't think I'll be able to keep myself from fucking you so hard I'll leave your silhouette on the floor of this place." He says pulling away for a moment to kiss my lips again.

My hands move down, and I begin to open his pants, while he begins to open mine.

"All words, I want to see some action." I reply, trying not to give away how much his words had affected me. He smirks, realizing that he actually made a mark with what he said, just brushing against my panties and feeling how wet they are.

"You will regret saying what you just said baby doll." Az replies, as with a quick gesture he enters of me. I didn't even notice that he had moved both my and his panties, but right now I don't care.

Feeling his cock inside me is an otherworldly experience. I can feel the walls of my pussy tighten around his sizable member as he tries to stay as still as possible to get me used to his size.

"Tell me if it hurts, or if you feel like you can't take it anymore, okay?" He asks softly, as he kisses my sweaty forehead. I feel the cramps from the sex pollen return, and I groan before I answer him.

"Az, I can't take it anymore, either you move or I swear I'm going to flip you over and start doing what I need to do on my own." I say, trying to move my hips slightly and create some friction, but he stops me, resting his hips on mine and giving that silly little smile that makes him so sexy.

"Oh, I can't wait to see you ride my cock, but I'd say leave that experience for another time. Tonight is just for you, and for your pleasure." He comments and then begins to move.

Immediately I feel every single part of the universe fall into place as he gradually increases his speed. My body seems to be persecuted everywhere with shivers of pleasure as his lips rest lightly on my breasts again. Between his mouth, his cock, and the sex pollen in my body my orgasm seems to come with a speed I never expected.

"Please Az, don't stop." I say groaning, feeling the pleasure grow more and more every second.

"Oh baby I could never deprive myself of the feeling of my cock against your cervix. You're going to come, aren't you?" She whispers back as I try to nod. "Then we'll come together love."

"Yes, please Az fill me." I continue, and I feel her muscles tense even more under my touch.

"Honey don't challenge me, you know I could fuck you so hard you wouldn't walk tomorrow even if you prayed to Mother." He counters by increasing his speed.

"It would certainly be worth it." I answer as I now feel I am on the edge of oblivion, just one thrust would be enough to sink into pleasure. I hold my breath for a moment as I feel him move for the last time before my body begins to move in convulsions of pleasure, and my vision becomes totally blurred.

I feel him releasing all his semen inside me shortly after coming, and I feel him lying on top of me, relaxing.

We stay like that for a few minutes before he starts laughing. I look at him not understanding why he is laughing until he explains himself.

"God, I guess in the end I will have Rhys to thank for this mission." Whispers Az.

"Actually it wasn't that bad." I comment, laughing in turn.

"Let's say it had its upsides." He replies with a wink. "But don't think it's over here, wait until you get home, and when I'm done with you the only thing you'll remember is my name."

Yes I would say we definitely have Rhys to thank.

TAGLIST

@horneybeach1 @peachyxrosie @whoreforblackhill @forsiriussake @ash04w3 @l3viathanpup @ohemgeewhat @123345566 @kidsaproblem @lust4lucille @lisamanban123 @alina02 @shodowbane09 @supernatural-lvr

[fiamat12]

Legal Anon back by Fia's request. Fia asked that I clarify several aspects of a proper NDA.

1. Length of the NDA- Non disclosure agreements have a length of time they last depending on the nature of the relationship and confidential information or both. Standard NDAs are 2-5 yrs. but others can last decades to a lifetime. The duration refers to the amount of time the person who signs it is required to stay silent on the matter (s). It does not refer to how long the person whose information is being concealed will need to continue to meet demands. Even when the demands are met, the person who signed the agreement is required to stay silent until the agreed upon date (usually several years). That's why you have tell all books long after there is public interest in a subject.

2. Obligations- what has become known as Luke's obligations are what is called a consideration legally. A consideration is what Luke offered to Antonia for her to sign the NDA. A consideration can be money, favors or anything of value including a promise, or an action. In Luke's case, it is believed he offered Antonia publicity to help her career. This type of consideration takes time to execute, so it was likely set to occur over several months. He has taken her to a number of celebrity events, provided social media support to attract traffic to her profile and facilitated press articles centered on her industry skills. I've discussed in other Asks how I believe the stipulations were extended beyond their initial end date, which can happen if a contract is renegotiated.

3-PR relationships. A PR relationship and a PR relationship as part of an NDA are distinctly different. A standard PR relationship is to generate media attention or promote a project, or to hide bad press and divert negative attention. It could be a one day stunt, a couple month dating situation or a longer term contract. The terms are typically flexible and one or both parties have an option to end it. A PR relationship as part of an NDA is a favor to the person being silenced. It is usually short term, lasting until the promised favors are given. The goal is to prevent the person from spreading untimely or unseemly information as opposed to covering up existing bad press. There is usually no project to promote rather, one person's image being elevated. The terms are typically rigid.

4- The Sohos NDAs. Signing an NDA after a breach of privacy issue, in this case after the Sorrento trip is unlikely. Luke would have needed to offer a consideration ahead of time where he agreed to pay for the vacation or give other favors in exchange for them not posting his location in real time or keeping his privacy as part of an NDA stipulation. It is not something he could impose on them afterwards for "bad behavior". His best option would be a breach of privacy lawsuit, and suing all your friends is costly, excessive and not the way to keep friends. His next best option is to get new friends.

Hope this is helpful! Thanks for letting me join in on the discourse. Hope to see Luke and Nicola together soon ❤️

Thank you! You covered it all. Just to add, I think if L could've paid A off, he would have. With that, I don't believe this 2nd round of obligations will last as long as the 1st, and we'll see Lukola at the Baftas 🥰

As for the length of the NDA, my guess is at least through the S4 release & rating periods. I think Lukola wanted to get out from under being the S3 leads and then the season after, there's always still attention on the former leads... but the more time goes on, the less important it will be, and people will forget A - as if people other than the fandom know who she is anyway 🤭

[angstysebfan]

Not Good Enough

Pairing: Bucky x Plus Size Female Reader Summary: Reader is dating Bucky. Bucky thinks he won the jackpot with the reader, but the reader thinks he can get anyone he wants. A bet then goes a little too far, leaving the reader questioning everything about their relationship.

A/N: Fixed this piece up and changed the story line. Both reader and Bucky are wrong in this one, but I hope you like it anyways. I tend to write toxic relationships because of what I've been through. If you don't like that you can pass by without leaving rude comments. This is my version of therapy. Thanks!

--

You weren’t like the other agents on the team. Where most women in S.H.I.E.L.D or the Avengers are tall, skinny and beautiful. You were short, overweight, and in your opinion “ehh” in the looks department. Though you looked overweight, you were strong as all hell. You always felt like you didn’t belong, but the team always told you did. Especially Bucky.

When Bucky Barnes admitted his feelings for you, you had a hard time believing him. He's proven that his feelings are real, but one thing you think he's lying about is how lucky he says he is that you finally said yes to being his. It's a conversation that comes up several times and you keep saying the same thing.

"Buck, one sexy smirk toward a woman and they would be putty in your hands. I'm the one who should thank whoever brought you to me cause I still don't get what you see."

"Baby, you're the one who could have any man she wants, and you chose me. Trust me, no other woman would ever want me."

You would just roll your eyes and change the subject as it was actually painful to talk about. But one week you had enough and made a bet. A new agent was coming, and you wanted to prove Bucky wrong. You gave him permission, against your better judgement, to flirt. If she turned him down you would admit defeat, but if you won, he owed you a weekend away together.

Then the new female agent, Stacy, joined, and she was gorgeous! Beautiful light brown hair that looked so soft to the touch, blue eyes that drew you in, and a body you would die for. When you and Bucky walked in hand-in-hand to meet her, you couldn’t help but notice Bucky’s reaction to her. You shook it off because you couldn’t deny her beauty either.

"Remember the deal babe," you said quietly, suddenly regretting your choice. He nodded silently and kissed your forehead.

You didn't know this, but he was also regretting this bet. When Stacy was introduced to the team, you automatically noticed her eyes lingered on Bucky a lot longer than anyone else.

Steve brought her down the line to meet everyone one by one, and when she walked up to you, you extended your hand, “Nice to meet you Stacy. Looking forward to working with you.”

She looked at your hand for a moment and then said to Steve, “I thought I was meeting agents.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up and nodded, “Yes, Y/N here is one of our best. She is one mission away from becoming a full fledge Avenger.”

You smiled at him as she looked back at you, an unreadable expression on her face. “Huh, well, we'll see about that.”

She walked past you to Bucky without shaking your hand. You were honestly shocked by her rudeness. You watch her interact with Bucky and see the flirty fluttering of her eyelashes.

Bucky turned on the charm, which you had to admit, hurt you more than you realized it would.

“Sergeant Barnes, I am looking forward to learning a lot from you,” she said in a sultry voice.

Bucky flushed, understanding her meaning. “Uh, yea anytime dollface,” he said.

Your eyes shot to his face. “Doll” was your nickname. You looked from him to Steve, who just gave you a sympathetic smile.

When intros were done, it was time for dinner. Stacy made sure she sat right next to Bucky, which drove you nuts. Bucky didn’t even spare you a glance when you were forced to sit on the other end of the table. It was like he didn’t even notice you. Not that you blamed him, Stacy did take all the attention in the room. Why did you make this damn bet?

You started feeling very low and self conscious, excusing yourself from the table. You entered your room and quickly went into the shower. You couldn’t help but let some tears fall, thinking you were not good enough for Bucky. Stacy was the type of woman he should be with, not you.

While lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice Bucky entering the shower with you, until you feel his arms around you. You immediately tense when you feel him, feeling the tears fall harder. 

“Doll? You okay?” he asked concerned. You cried harder, holding your face in your hands. Bucky turned you around and held you close, kissing the top of your head.

When you finally calmed down and looked up at Bucky, who had a concerned and sad expression on his face. You step away from him and leave the shower. 

“Y/N?” he called after you. When he made it out to the room in a towel, you were changing into sweats and one of his hoodies. “Baby, please tell me whats wrong?” he pleads.

You look at him with a mix of sadness and anger. “I’m shocked you even noticed I left the table,” you spat.

Bucky is shocked by your words, “What do you mean?” he whispers.

You scoff, “I give you permission to flirt with one woman, and you suddenly forget that you have a girlfriend. Not that I blame you! She's gorgeous, and I’m…” you stop yourself before you sob. 

“Doll, -” “Don’t! Obviously I am not your “Doll” if you are so okay with calling her that!” you screamed.

Bucky shakes his head, putting his hands through his hair. “I don’t understand what's wrong! You told me to do this! I'm sorry I called her “Doll”. Honestly, it meant nothing!” he yelled getting frustrated.

You ignore him and walk to your bed, pulling the covers up to your neck.

“Fine, talk to me when you’re not acting like this.”

You hear Bucky mumble, before you hear the door to your room close. You lie there for a moment, before you decide that you needed to fix this. He was right. This was your idea, just because you couldn't handle it doesn't make it his fault. Though he's a dumbass for calling her "doll". You get up and open your door, walking next door to Bucky’s room. When you open the door you gasp.

Stacy's in Bucky’s room, sliding her hands up his bare chest and reaching up to kiss him, and whats worse is he is standing there holding her hips in only his towel. Tears completely flood your eyes and you leave the room without you noticing. 

–

When Bucky returned to him room after your outburst he opened his door and saw Stacy standing there. 

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, annoyed.

Stacy looks at him with innocent eyes, “I just wanted to thank you for being so nice tonight. I know I was asking a lot of questions during dinner.”

He gives her a small smile, “No problem, but if you don’t mind, I want to be alone.” he said.

“Where are you coming from in only a towel anyway,” she asked, ignoring his last comment, and stepping closer to him. “uh… my girlfriend’s room.” he stuttered, feeling uncomfortable. 

“You have a girlfriend? Who? Does she know you were flirting with me?” she asked in surprise. “Y-Y/N, my girlfriend is Y/N,” he says feeling nervous.

Stacy laughed for a moment, confusing Bucky, “You’re kidding right?” she asked. 

“No, I am dating Y/N. Have been for over three months. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression tonight, but I'm taken,” he said, taking a step back.

“Oh? Well, if you are flirting with me then you must be unhappy. I can make you feel better,” she said stepping closer, sliding her hands up his bare chest.

Bucky froze for a moment, holding onto Stacy’s waist to stop her coming closer. He felt very uncomfortable since he was only in a towel. She started to lean in toward his face. Finally he came to his senses and pushed her away. 

“Agent, this is unacceptable behavior. I know I gave you an impression tonight and that's my fault but I just told you I'm taken. Get out of my room, now” Bucky barked at Stacy.

Stacy was shocked, but didn’t want to push him any further and ran out of the room. Bucky closed the door behind her wiping his face with his flesh hand. He quickly got dressed and went back to your room, wanting to apologize for everything. When he knocked there was no answer. He opened your door and came in.

“Baby?” he called walking further into the room. He checked the walk in closet and then the bathroom, nothing. When he came back into the room, he saw a piece of paper on the bed. He opened it and his heart immediately dropped.

Bucky,

I guess based on what I saw, I am not as crazy as I thought. Though I must be crazy to think someone who looks like me, would be loved by someone who looks like you. I hope you both are very happy together. 

Your Y/N

Bucky quickly ran out of the room and went to Steve’s. He explained everything that happened, which caused some scolding from Steve. 

“I mean I can’t believe you were nice to her after the comment she made about Y/N when she met her,” Steve said. Bucky shook his head, “I know. I’m a fucking moron, okay? But Y/N wanted to do this bet and it went too far. Please you have to help me find my girl. I need her to know that I…” he stopped.

“You love her,” Steve said smirking.

Bucky nodded and blew out a breath. “Please, Steve. I can’t let her think that I don’t love her. I knew she was self conscious, I should have made sure she was alright,” Bucky said kicking himself.

“Okay, pal. Relax, we will find her. Let’s ask the girls first.” Steve said leading Bucky out of his room.

–

“Ok so you saw Y/N was upset and yelled at her instead of comforting her? You're an asshole, Barnes," Nat yelled at him.

“Yea, I know that already. Please Nat, I need to find her,” Bucky pleaded.

“Plus that was mean to do to Stacy, but she still shouldn't have been an bitch to Y/N," She says angrily. "I don’t know where she is, but, if you got your head out of your asses and think you'll find her faster,” she snapped.

Both men looked confused, causing her to roll her eyes. “Men are morons! FRIDAY please track Y/N and send her coordinates to Barnes and Rogers STAT!” she yelled to the AI. 

The men nodded their thanks and headed out.

Nat watched them leave and then called to the AI. “FRIDAY where is Stacy?”

–

You sat on a bench in Battery Park, staring out into the water. You honestly weren’t sure where you were going to go from here. A part of you wanted to go back to the Tower, but didn’t want to see Bucky or Stacy. You figured by now they were lying naked in his bed together. The image making you want to puke.

“Y/N” a whispered voice said, making you jump.

You turn and see Bucky standing there, relief evident in his face. “Baby, I have been looking everywhere for you.” 

He sits down on the bench next to you, and you immediately tensed, something he noticed. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, “Y/N, I swear, whatever you saw, was not what you think. Stacy… she… she tried to kiss me and I froze. I-I didn’t know what to do, until I finally snapped out of it and threw her out of my room. You have to believe me.” he said grabbing your hand. You don’t look at him, knowing that if you did, you would crack.

“Why would you want to throw her out? She's perfect for you Bucky. You’re perfect for each other. She knows it, I know it, you must know it.” you say quietly, your voice threatening to crack. "This bet was stupid because it proved how right I really was."

Bucky kneels in front of you, holding your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

“Belles, she is not perfect for me? Is she beautiful? Sure, but you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life. I know you're self conscious about your weight and your body, but baby I love your body and I couldn’t care less about your weight because it doesn't matter. You're a strong woman who could kick anyone's ass. I…”

Bucky takes a breath and calm his nerves. “Y/N, I love you,” he says with confidence.

You look at him for a moment and then shake your head. “How can you love someone like me?” you whisper as tears flow down your face.

Bucky stands up and pulls you into his arms. “You're so amazing to me. You don’t care about my past. You only care about who I am now. And as far as how you look, you’re so fucking sexy to me baby! I grew up in a time where our woman had meat on their bones, and that's what I prefer.” he said causing you to laugh.

“Buck, I love you. I love you so much! You mean the world to me, and that's why I was so upset you ignored me tonight. I thought that you finally found someone else that you wouldn’t be embarrassed with. It's my fault for making this stupid bet,” you said. 

“I’m an idiot for tonight. I didn’t realize that I was ignoring you, and I’m so sorry. I should have defended you when she was rude to you, and ignored her. Screw the bet. We were both idiots about that, it wasn't fair to Stacy, even if she is a bitch. However, I do still owe you a weekend getaway, and I promise I will be cold to her from now on,” he said kissing the top of your head. “And you, my love, will never embarrass me.”

You looked up at him, your heart racing in your chest. He leaned down and captured your lips with his. You stepped as close as you could, wrapping your arms tightly around him. When the kiss ended you whispered against his lips, “I love you.”

He smiled and pecked your lips again, “I love you too.”

--

Hope you liked it.

[loupy-mongoose]

Note: For the sake of differentiation, Nico's text will be bold, while Randy's will not.

If there's any trouble telling anyone else apart, let me know, and I'll see what I can do to make it clearer.

Also it is. VERY long. So to the Read More zone it goes!

Enjoy. :)

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

~~~~~~

The Mews-in-human-form and Nico stepped carefully around the debris of the mansion floor. Lav, who had their bag on her human form, had transformed so they could grab a flashlight out of it. Now she had returned to Mewtwo form and floated around excitedly, taking in the sight of the neglected remains of Nico's birthplace.

Randy held the light in his left hand, while his right tightly gripped his cane. Akoya walked close to his side, her hands in her jacket pockets.

Daddy, stop shining at the floor! I wanna see what's around!

Not until your mom transforms and I don't have to worry about her stepping on something.

I'll be fine, Love! I can handle a few pebbles here and th--YEAHK!

She suddenly hopped away from Randy, inspecting her foot. Randy gave her a snide look.

Fine. She rolled her eyes before shifting. A split-second flash later, she was a Mew. She hovered over and draped herself on Randy's shoulder.

Content that his wife would no longer step on things, he looked at Lav. Here, Hon. You can hold this if you want. Seeing that he had her attention, he tossed the light her way. She telekinetically caught it and brought it to her hands.

Thanks Daddy! She smiled as she went around the room with the light. Nico followed after her, and Randy trudged behind.

Nico... Lav spoke after looking at charred walls, flooring, and rubble around them. Is this the place you destroyed? The one from that memory that woke me up?

It is, yes...

Akoya chimed in from her perch. It's a wonder nobody's bothered to fix it up after all this time.

Well, the volcano eruption kinda got in the way of that. I guess nobody saw any point afterword...

Randy glanced upward, wracked by a sudden chill. It feels like the ceiling could come down at any moment...

Akoya nuzzled her husband's cheek. We'll teleport out if anything happens, Love.

Still feeling shaken, Randy raised his hand to her and brushed his fingers through her fur.

He hoped against hope that the Mewtwos--especially Nico--couldn't sense just how right Akoya had been.

He needed her support.

And not the way his cane could provide.

This place filled him with dread. It was too... familiar... Every once in a while he caught a whiff of smoke and burned things. He could just make out the cracks in the ceilings and walls. He heard the occasional faint creaking of the dilapidated building.

He was almost glad it was too dark to see clearly.

The pain in his legs hadn't let up since they came here. He did his best to hide it from the 'twos, but he know it was futile to hide it from the little blue cat on his shoulder

She clearly knew.

And he endlessly appreciated it.

They walked along, chatting and looking through the debris. There were a lot of books in there, but most were burned beyond recognition or reading, or just boring scientific observations and notes. Wild Pokemon skittered about, too frightened by the strange intruders to engage with them.

Lav picked up yet another book and skimmed through it.

Oh!

Randy looked at her as she approached him. He could feel her buzzing with excitement.

She handed the book to him. It's Mr. Fuji's!

A spark of curiosity coursed through him as he took the book. Nico came over, his eyes shining in the gloom. He read over Randy's shoulder.

Wow... He flipped slowly through its pages. It... it goes through your growth, Nico...

Nico tilted his head, eyes filled with an almost child-like shimmer. Cool!

He flinched back as Randy handed the book up to him. Here. It's about you, so you should have it.

After looking at it for a moment, Nico shook his head and gently pushed it away. No. It's Fuji's. You should take it back to him when you return.

After a moment, Randy gave a smile and a slight nod before stuffing it into a pants pocket.

They continued their impromptu tour of the mansion.

Eventually...

They came to the back portion.

The floors and walls had sustained significant amounts of damage. Walls crumpled to the floor, creating larger rooms than once were. The floors had large holes, leading down into the basement below. Light streamed in from gaps in the ceiling.

Akoya floated off Randy's shoulder. How 'bout that! A shortcut to the basement~

As they all started heading into the nearest hole, Randy transformed without a second thought... until he noticed Nico looking at him in somber shock.

Randy know what he was thinking, and gave him a sad look.

So... that's... what my dad looked like, huh?

Randy's eyes grew somehow more weary than they were. ...Pretty much, yeah... He never looked this exhausted though...

The basement was worse off than the floor above, dimly lit by the sunlight. It was clear walls once stood, but now the area was just one large room, with a few pillars-that-were-once-walls being the only support for the tattered building above.

Along the back wall of the basement...

Was a set of cylindrical tanks.

The group hovered over to them, not wanting to step on the sharp debris on the floor.

Shattered glass and old dust carpeted the area. A small keypad protruded from the front of the center tank, and two more of the tubes stood behind on either side, and forward of those were two large computer casings.

The area was stained with old burn marks, while plant life had grown in. It was almost serene, lit by the rays of persistent sunlight.

Randy floated over to the skeletal tanks.

...Mo has been here...

Randy...

The long Mew turned to Nico.

Can... Can I ask you something...?

Did... Did Mo ever talk about me?

Randy took a moment to think.

...I think he wanted to...

Akoya looked at him questioningly.

Right b-before... He shut his eyes, trembling, trying to break free of his dread.

Oop.

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

[dariaslookalike]

Building Houses and Burning Bridges Pt 11: Teasing and tit Jobs

Summary:

It seems, oddly enough, that Gregory House lives to annoy you. He takes 'arseholish boss' to the next level. Wake up in the morning, ready to have breakfast, and drive to the hospital where you both work? Nope, you're getting a text that says you're late to his impromptu 4:30 AM meeting where he's had the 'breakthrough of the century' on the team's latest case. Get your hair cut and walk into work, for once feeling confident? Nope, he's saying that he would have done a better job blinded, hands tied and going through Vicodin withdrawals. Finally, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, prove him wrong and attempt to wipe the cockiness off his face? Nope, you're simply slow because you didn't get to your diagnosis quicker and weak-willed because you didn't fight him for it in the beginning. Everything House does infuriates you, and it seems everything you do infuriates him. No wonder you end up pinned to the wall of your apartment and groping him like your life depends on. And knowing House, it very may well.

Warnings: Adult language, mature themes, eventual smut, female protagonist, no reference of y/n

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Current Status: Ongoing

A/N: An update! Lol, this fic has been rotting in my google docs for too long. so i'm procrastinating my uni assignments due tomorrow, and i'm updating here. hope to get chapter 13 out by the end of may but we'll see how that goes lmao

Masterlist: Building Houses and Burning Bridges

Next Chapter: Pt 12

Word Count: 4.2k

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

You’re off the medication, finally. 

That’s what your rational brain should have thought when you woke up, and no longer saw the white pills on the bedside table. No more gulping them down, no more harsh cough or aches. You were better.

You’re not thinking that however.

You’re staring at House while he’s sleeping; which is odd, you can admit. Maybe creepy. You don’t admonish yourself, however. How could you? He’s entrancing. You wish you had some paper here, hell, even a napkin or tissue, so you could scrawl and sketch, to have something tangible to look at later. 

You feel your heart twist at the notion. You might not wake up next to him again or ever; He might decide that just sex was horrible with you, and he never wants you in his bed again. Or he might have seen the way you looked at him last night, when you were rubbing his leg and easing his pain, and decided it was too much, too soon- decided that he was right at the start, and that there was no way you could ever stop your feelings for him from interfering with just sex .

Was he right? You knew that things had shifted in your heart after sleeping with him. Before, you could sidestep around the topic and push off any feelings as a simple whimsical thought, a school girl’s fantasy, and nothing more. Now, you want to kiss his lips and bite the apple of his cheek and suck his neck and tell him he’s yours and no one else's. Too much, too soon. You couldn’t do that, couldn’t tell him that- because House wasn’t yours. Sure, he seems intent on having more fun with you. But that was it. Just sex . He would never share the way you wanted him, he would never look at you with much else besides lust. 

But you don’t have paper, or a napkin, or a tissue. So you lay there, and as you stare at him, in the back of your mind you think this will do. If I can’t have him the way I want him, this will do.  

He looks at ease, for once. You know his leg is still bad and that even in his sleep, he’s probably scheming. But there’s no analysing gaze. He’s not staring down at some patient with mistrust and he’s not rolling his eyes at you and he’s not snapping at one of the ducklings. The notch in his brow isn’t so prominent and his mouth is open slightly as he breathes deeply. He’s relaxed, beside you. This will do.

His alarm goes off and you clench your eyes shut. 

You hear him shift, fumbling to hit the clock and finally flicking the right button to silence it’s blaring noise. He lays back against the mattress and settles with a sigh. You listen to him breathe and the overwhelming stillness of the room.

“How long have you been awake and watching, newbie?”

You flick open one eye, and he has his arms tucked behind his head as he gazes up to the ceiling. “How’d you know?”

“I felt psychically attacked by you- or should I say ravaged?” He looks at you from the corner of his eye. “Also you snore when you’re sleeping.”

“I do not!”

He smiles at the ceiling. “Yes, you do. You sleep talk too.”

“No! You’re lying.” You swing out an arm, landing a light blow on his chest. He recoils from it with exaggeration and twists himself to face you.

“If it’s any consolation, you only say random things when you’re sleep talking. Like ‘House just like thaaaaa’.” He trails off into a high pitched moan.

You scoff, but bury your flaming face in your hands. You peek out, briefly. “Are you serious?”

He smirks. “Yep. You’re all over me, even in your sleep.” He reaches out a hand, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His hand rests on the side of your face, and his thumb smooths over your cheek. “But don’t worry. I’ll only tell Wilson.”

You laugh, but move swiftly and twist yourself to lean on your forearms and knees. House’s eyes flick between the dangling neckline of his shirt that you’re wearing, where your cleavage is showing, and your arse that you stick in the air. 

“You’re not gonna tell Wilson anything.”

“Oh, yeah?” House cocks an eyebrow, flopping onto his back once more. He smirks at you. “What makes you so certain I haven’t already told him everything?”

“Because you were the one who had to stop a blowjob so you wouldn’t be a one pump chump. You can’t act like you didn’t want it just as much as me.”

He tilts his head, and tuts. “Yeah, I can. Last I checked, you were the one screaming- the one who lost the bet.” His smile drips with an overly sweet honey. “You still need to pay up, by the way. I take cash or checks.” 

You sit back and his cool eyes track your movements as you sit on your heels. “I want a rematch.”

“Not a chance. I won, fair and square.”

“You won because you didn’t let me suck you off like I wanted.” You say bluntly. “You won because you were able to hulk out and keep me under you.” 

His eyes darken at your words, but his lips still tilt up. “I’m a cripple and you’re playing the “you overpowered me” card?”

“No, I’m playing the “you had to top otherwise you would have been a goner” card.”

“Still not happening.”

“Double or nothing.” You clench your jaw. “But this time, I’m in control and you can sit there, and look pretty.”

House bats his eyelashes. “You know I’m the best at that. But trust me, you could tie me up and you’d still be the first one begging.”

You smirk, shifting on your knees slightly. “You wanna bet? Yesterday was a fluke on my part- I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks. It was cabin-fever induced touch deprivation.”

He scoffs, sitting up and crossing his arms with a level of self-absorbed-assurance you couldn’t master. But there’s a glint in his eyes. He knows what you’re getting at, but he’s letting himself play right into your hand. 

“Tie me up. You won’t win.” He moves, leaning up to whisper in your ear. 

You laugh, placing your hand on his shoulder and shoving him back against the bedding. “Let me find your belt first and you won’t be so sure.”

You scooch past him and his hand snakes out, pinching your arse as you stand up from the bed. You shoot him a withering look and he just grins. 

When you return, he cocks his head slightly. “I didn’t think you were serious about the belt. Gonna whip me too?”

You give him a pout dripping with fake sympathy. “Only if you beg.”

You scan the bed with a disapproving eye and he tracks your gaze to the solid headboard. “I can’t really tie you to that. So turn around.”

His eyes flick down you. “Just because we’ve committed the most unholy of sins together doesn’t mean you’re my boss now. Don’t go on a power trip.”

“Ohh, you’re so right, House.” His lips tilt up even though it’s obvious you’re mocking him. You lean forward, ghosting your lips against his in a smile. “Now be good for me, please, and turn over.”

You see him swallow, but he laughs you off and gives in, twisting around. You shuffle closer to him on the bed, and move his hands softly behind him. You loop the belt in on itself and place it around his wrists before tightening it. He hisses slightly when the edge digs into his skin, and you press your palm into his shoulder, spinning him back around.

He sits with his back up to the headboard, arms twisted behind himself. House glowers at you from beneath his brow. “I didn’t think you were serious .”

He stretches his legs out in front of him, and you see him already twitching in his boxers. You smirk. “You just don’t want to admit how much you like it.” 

His jaw clenches. 

“But,” you say, your voice dropping in tone. “If you don’t want this, at any point, tell me. No hard feelings.” You cross your fingers over your heart in a promise.

“I’ve known since I saw you that it would end with one of us tied up.” He tilts his head, raising his eyebrows up in an obvious fashion. “Next time, it’s your turn.”

Sitting beside his thigh, you pat it with mocking comfort. “Sure thing.”

He scowls at you but it’s quickly replaced by a sharp inhale when your hands reach out, pulling down his boxers. He’s half hard and you spit on your hands the same way you did last time. The action makes him tense. You reach out ghosting wet fingers across him and House hisses beside you. His attention is torn between your hands and your face. Eventually, you feel him decide to glare at you, and you look at him, a sweet saccharine smile in place. 

“You doing alright, House?”

“Not exactly. Feels like you’re trying to tickle my dick.”

You laugh, and the mask of power slips for a moment when you tuck your chin to your chest in a giggle. You look back at him coyly, and his jaw ticks. “‘M sorry. I don’t have to touch you there.”

House opens his mouth to protest when your hand abandons him, but the words are lost when you siddle in close to him and let your fingers dance across his chest. You lean in closer, face next to his and your lips ghost across his cheek. He says nothing, no cocky retorts or snarky remarks to be heard. You kiss his cheek, and trail down to his jaw, your hand making smooth shapes across the plane of his chest, his shoulder, his neck. You tug his shirt up and it stays wrangled up, showing the smattering of hair leading down his lower belly. You plant kiss after kiss on everywhere you can reach, soft and gentle. 

You find a spot on his neck and bite it softly before you continue across the smooth column of his throat, leaving wet kisses and marks wherever you can touch. Your other hand sneaks up behind him, entangling itself in his hair. You scratch against his scalp as you bite down on the junction between his neck and shoulder. He’s breathing heavily above you, and you finally abandon your own resistance, and lean closer, skating your lips across his. He leans into the kiss awkwardly, unable to support himself with his hands tied behind him, but he still pushes forward to you. You push him back, chasing after his lips and deepening the kiss. It’s intoxicating and feverish and your hand reaches down, this time firmly grasping his cock. He’s not half hard anymore, instead pulsing against your palm with heat. He gasps into your mouth and you smile against him.

You pull back, setting yourself beside him again. 

You pump him with your hand firmly, and he groans, hips bucking softly into your hand. You pull back, and he shoots you a confused look. 

You just smirk, staying silent. You pump him again, and pull back once more when he moves. He catches on quickly, hissing. “That is not fair.”

“Says who?” You tilt your head at him. 

“Me.” He scoffs, indignantly. 

“I don’t listen to crazy, tied up men.” You say, pouting sadly.

“Untie me then. I’ll prove I’m not crazy.”

“Nice try, House.”

You pump him again, and like the quick learner he is, he just grits his teeth and stays still. 

“Good job, baby.” You say sweetly, pressing a kiss to his neck. You stroke him again, this time tightening your grip each time you reach his head. You kiss at his neck, pumping him up and down, loosely and then firm in your fist. 

He swears beneath his breath softly. Not admitting defeat, but he’s getting there. 

You spit down onto your palm, swiping your thumb over his head. You pump him again, and again, your other hand reaching down to softly cup and squeeze his balls. 

He rolls his head back, leaning against the headboard with shut eyes. “Fuck, Newbie. The brothel teach you that trick?”

You hand tightens to the point of just-uncomfortable around his cock, and his eyes snap open as he groans. You snicker. 

“I’ve had a lot of free time- you’ve got so many pornos in your apartment.”

His eyes snap to yours, and even though he knows that he doesn’t own one porno that could have taught you any of this, his eyes get glossy with the thought. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.” You pump him in your hand, faster, quickening the speed. “You’d be gone for so long and I got so bored.”

He can’t even respond to you, and you let out a breathy, just for show, moan, face scrunching as you keep talking in a breathy tone. You pump him, bouncing on your calves slightly with the movement. “Had to fuck myself in your bed while you were gone. Did it when you were in the lounge room, sleeping on the couch.”

He’s enraptured, mouth open slightly and blue eyes pinned to yours as you continue. “Wasn’t enough. Just kept thinking I should go and wake you up and beg you to help me.”

His throat bobs. “You should have.”

You lean closer, running your mouth along his jaw. He just tilts his head back, giving you better access. “I will be.”

You pump him faster, the sound of his cock fucking into your hand obscene and filling the room. 

“Fuck.” He says, voice breathy. “I’m close.”

“Just gotta beg for, House. C’mon, you can use your words.” You mumble against his skin. “I’ll swallow it all.”

Maybe a small part thought that would break his resolve, but he shakes his head and you grin against him.

“No.”

You lean back, smirking at him. “Then you don’t get to cum.”

He glares at you, his nostrils flaring, but he says nothing, fine to be blue balled if it means you don’t win so quickly.

He expects you to stop your movement but you don’t. You keep pumping him, faster, harder, smiling softly at him. 

“W-what are you doing?” He asks, voice shaky, his hips stuttering into your hand- you won’t punish him for that right now. 

“Nothing.” You look at him innocently. “Just don’t cum.”

“Well, sweetheart.” He spits, still managing to sound like he has the power here. “I don’t have the willpower of a buddhist monk, if you keep jerking me off like this I’m going to cum.”

“I know.” You smile sweetly, pumping his cock up and down with your fist. 

He glances to your face, confused at what you’re playing at. He won’t understand until it’s too late, and so his gaze rips back down to where your hand is wrapped around him. 

“I’m-” He stutters. “Fuck, I’m going to-”

He can’t finish his sentence, as you keep jerking him at a brutal pace, his head lolling back. He groans, throbbing in your palm. 

You wretch your hand back at the last second and watch with a grin as his dick falls against his stomach, his cum splattering against his bare stomach. His voice is wrecked as he calls out, swearing. His breath is heavy, shuddering up and down. 

His dick is still hard and red, and his eyes fling open, glaring at you as you smile back at him.

“What the fuck did you just do , Newbie?”

You cross your finger over your heart. “A magician never tells her secrets.”

He opens his mouth to protest or cuss you out, but falls silent when you reach out and wrap your hand around his still hard cock once more. 

“Fuck! Fuck that’s so- fuck.” He groans, shaking his head. He lets out a wrecked sound from the back of his throat as you smear his cock in his own cum, using it to stroke him up and down once more. 

He’s oversensitive, but ruined. You look at him, jutting out your bottom lip. “You alright House? D’you want me to jerk you off again?”

He shakes his head and your movements instantly still, but then he nods. “No, yes. Fuck, that just feels so much more .”

Your hands resume their gentle movement as you grin wickedly. “That’s the point.”

 You pause, moving to nudge his legs apart and you resettle, kneeling between them. He sighs, relieved when your hand falls from his cock, giving him some reprieve. Instead, you spread your own legs, hand tracing down your soft stomach circle at that spot between your legs. You’re so wet, and you use the slick to run messy circles over your clit. You moan, your other hand falling to his non-injured leg for support. Your fingers dig into the skin as the pressure builds up in your core. He says nothing, and your eyes flick up to his, moaning out his name as you start to shudder. When you make yourself unravel in front of him, he doesn't say anything, but his cock bobs, neglected weeping at the head. 

You use your free hand to tug your shirt up, over your head. You spit into your messy palm, and reach up smearing both yourself and him against your breasts. 

“C’mon. Untie me.” 

Your eyes flick up to his, which are glued to your chest. “Beg.”

“No.”

“Then no.”

You shuffle backwards on the bed, and pat the mattress in front of you. “Move it, House.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m a tied up cripple. Did you think that one through?”

You shoot him a look, and he sighs but shuffles closer until he finally lays flat against the mattress, head still propped up by the pile of pillows. You settle between his spread legs, placing a kiss to his thigh. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He scowls. “I got rope burn from my own belt.”

“Aw, you poor thing.” You look up at him, doe-eyed. “I’ll make it better.”

Your hand dips down to the apex of your thighs and once more you smear your slick against your chest. You spit into your hand too, and massage your breasts, squeezing them. 

You lean down, until you’re positioned perfectly over his cock. It bobs at your attention, and you look up, grinning at House. He still scowls at you, but there’s an excited glint in his eyes.

You nudge his cock between your breast, and move yourself, back and forward. You have to find a good rhythm first, but soon you’re guiding your slick breasts up and down his cock. 

“Shit. Fuck, Newbie.” He gasps, and you bat your lashes up at him, quickening your speed. Soft, wet slapping fills the room and you moan quietly.

He groans, cock still overstimulated. You just let drool pool onto your breasts, squeezing them tighter as give him a tit job. 

You hear him shuffle against the sheets and you look up once more, still guiding his cock in and out. 

He looks like he could murder you, but sucks in a sharp breath. “Please, let me cum.”

You tsk. “You call that begging?”

He groans as you keep fucking him, his own weeping pre-cum making it messier. 

“Please, Newbie.” He growls, voice drawing out into a groan. “Please, fuck, make me cum.”

“You lose.” You say softly. 

He nods, desperate, cheeks flushed, stomach tensing. He’s close, wrecked after his ruined orgasm. He needs this. 

You take pity on him, and still your movements. He whips his head up to look at you, aghast, but he curses when you quickly straddle him, nudging his cock closer to your centre, and sink down on him. 

You sigh as he bottoms out, while he groans loudly. He’s big, but with how wet and ready you are, you take him easier this time. He stills nudges up against your cervix, and you feel so full when you sit fully down on him. You don’t have it in you to play him any further, and instead begin bouncing yourself on him. It’s not harsh, but his moans have a desperation in them that coil that feeling in your stomach once more. 

“F-fuck.” He gasps, cursing when you angle him deeper. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Or vicodin.” You say, teasing.

He shakes his head, face scrunched up in pleasure. “You. It’s going to be you.”

“Yeah?” You breathe shakily atop him.

“Yeah.” He moans. “You feel so fucking good. Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me.”

You lean down, pressing your chest to his, kissing his neck softly. “Mmhmm. Just for you, House.”

“Just for me.” He growls, beneath you. At this angle, his cock nudges against that spongey spot inside you. Not having to ask for permission or be the one to beg, you hold that angle, fucking yourself on him, making his cock hit that spot again and again. 

He holds out well, but when you whine against his neck, and your orgasm rolls over you, clenching you against his cock, he lets out a loud groan. He bucks his hips into yours, and you sit back against him as he keeps cumming. He groans, and you feel his cock pulsing in you, throbbing against your walls. 

When he finally stops, he lets out a heavy breath, his chest falling and rising rapidly. 

“Fuck.” He says. 

“Fuck.” You agree, chuckling.

You swing your legs off him, his cum dripping out of you. You don’t care about ruining his sheets, and instead help him sit up, untieing him.

Even with his spend dripping out of you, and your slick smeared against his crotch, when his arms are untied he wraps them around your waist and pulls you closer, drawing you into a deep kiss. 

You smile against him. “Glad you’re not a sore loser.”

“‘M so glad you are.” He teases, lips tugging up.

[d3f3n3str4t10n]

New Year, New Update!

I hope y'all had a good New Year's feast. Ashley certainly has! We'll be eating too, it seems, thanks to this new update!

Firstly, the least exciting thing to someone that's already bought the game: Due to steam pricing jank, they're extending and increasing the discounts for now up until the game's price increases with the release of Episode 3A. Cool!

Next are some words typed straight from Nemlei's hands themselves, describing how working on the game has been like for the past year, and another content comparison between episodes. It's really weird to see it laid out in plain numbers like this, but it does a good job showing the scale of 3a! And they're not even done yet! It's good to hear that the team has gotten into the groove of things, now that all the development issues we saw lined out during the devlogs have been taken care of. Hopefully we won't have to wait too much longer! Now onto the REAL good stuff...

First, we see a pretty familiar corridor. The same one what Andrew confronted Ashley in, during the dream sequence that leads to Episode 3A's beginning. Fortunately however, at least according to Ashley, everything seems to be resolved. I'm honestly a little surprised that they'd share something so... blatant, like this, but maybe that's the trick. We only have Ashley's very untrustworthy words to go off of here, of course.

Next, we see a short reunion. One of Andrew's friends is back! It's unclear whether this is during the present day, or sometime before quarantine, however. Given Andrew's insistence that they drop all contact with anyone they knew during Chapter 1, I'd imagine that if this IS in the present day, Andrew isn't too happy about it. Probably NOT why he's throwing up, though. Either way, he still considers him a friend, so that's nice to see!

And lastly... a video!! Hell yeah! This one shows us the full context for a previous screenshot we saw in one of the devlogs. The video begins with a CG of a VHS rewinding. Whether or not it's meant to be something dietetic or not, it makes it clear that this is meant to be a flashback. We see Friend B and Andrew chatting in their highschool class after the bell has rung. Friend B offers to go to some non-descript event with Andrew, but he can't, because he has work. During this conversation, Ashley barges in, furious that some clique of girls is preventing her from getting a drink.

We then see the CG from the devlog, as well as Andrew's reaction. He tells her to just go with Julia, to then Ashley says they aren't talking at the moment. Something that I don't doubt happened quite a lot, in their "friendship."

On their way to the vending machine so Andrew can sort out the situation... somehow, Andrew realizes he left his notebook back in the classroom and goes back to get it. On his way, he overhears an interesting conversation...

Some guy, presumably an acquaintance or classmate of Friend B, starts talking with them. He calls Andrew a "fucking sissy", and mistakes Ashley as his girlfriend. Again, probably happens a lot. Friend B sticks up for Andrew throughout the conversation, calling out how rude the Douchebag is being to Andrew and how creepy his not-so-subtle suggestions to get with Ashley are. Friend B claims Ashley has "A few screws loose" which may be why he thinks she's so clingy, and why Andrew goes along with it. Because, why would he go along with it, if there wasn't some reason, right? Siblings aren't just LIKE that. The further the Douchebag seems to push it, the more Friend B tells him to knock it off.

Andrew is, at first, confused by the situation, not really understanding what the big deal is. Of course they're close, they're siblings. He has to look out for her, with all the bullies in this school, apparently.

His confusion quickly turns to anger, and he starts to work up the motivation to tell the douchebag off... but he doesn't. The narration then lets us in on another side of Andrew's thought process.

This is the start of Andrew's Denial. This is most likely before the "rumors" Julia brings up begin, perhaps they were even started by this Douchebag. Andrew is finally starting to realize how odd his and Ashley's relationship is. When they were kids, it could be excused and defended by adults as just, them being kids... but they're in High school now. That excuse isn't going to cut it anymore. Andrew though, still doesn't see anything wrong with it. They've been this way forever, and they're fine with it, so why does anyone else care? What's so weird about it? A very well written scene, if you ask me.

Oh, Also there's a Q&A! Check out the steam post to participate! My question was about what Nemlei thinks Andrew and Ashley sound like. Not very creative but eh. Happy New Year, everyone!

[icallhimjoey]

Lost & Found

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader    

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.    

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!    

Author’s note: i know i already said we were going at a slower pace, but, i really meant it - ive got too much other things going and i apologise! part four might take EVEN LONGER ive got a busy month coming up, so we'll see how it goes! thanks for being patient with me <333

Wordcount: 4.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Your breath hitched as your fingers twitched with need of a self-destruct button when you saw him.

Swimming shorts, black. The ones you’d had in your hands two days before. Linen shirt, short sleeves, beige – unbuttoned. It was one of the things you’d tried on. Your friend had said it looked like a pyjama top on you. You were glad to learn it did not look like a pyjama top on him.

Sunglasses. Black, dark, and designer if you were to go by the large metallic logos on the sides.

Hair sort of all over the place, like he hadn’t touched it after rolling out of bed this morning. Book in hand, paperback, folded corners and broken spine. 

If you were honest, it was kind of a vibe. Until you panned down, and...

Loafers.

You hoped that the glare of the sun didn’t turn your sunglasses transparent enough for Joe to notice you weren’t looking at your phone screen when you saw him step out and enter the pool area.

He walked past a couple of sun loungers that had towels on but seemed otherwise fairly abandoned. The pool was empty, the water too cold to casually dip into, so the towels probably belonged to people who dumped them there before breakfast, just to ensure they’d have a space of their own in the sun later.

Well, it was later now, and had there been no empty sun loungers free of towels, you’d have tossed a random one to claim as your own. Like the one right next to you. Just a big white towel from the hotel on an empty sun lounger that seemingly belonged to no one.

You saw Joe get closer and closer until you realised that he seemed to be coming right over to you.

Maybe he’d seen you and was now just there to come and tell you that he needed his jacket back. The one he gave you last night. The one you were meant to return to room 907. The one you still had up in room 1103.

Listen, it had gotten late. And you’d gotten too tipsy.

You also weren’t sure if you’d remembered 907 correctly, and, what if he was asleep already, you know? You decided after having your 6th drink poured into a plastic cup that you’d bring Joe his jacket tomorrow.

Maybe just after breakfast.

But then, you’d slept right through breakfast, hadn’t you?

You’d woken up two hours after falling asleep, and hadn’t been able to slide back into slumber until after you’d watched the sunrise from your balcony through blinking bleary eyes.

You’d only gotten a very quick gulp of water into your system after brushing your teeth, and now here you were, by the pool, living your best holiday-instagram-filtered-story life.

When Joe walked into earshot, you were ready to launch an excuse at him for not having returned his jacket yet. 

But then he bent and sat down on the sun lounger next to you and you realized; that was his towel. One he'd probably laid down just before breakfast to ensure himself a lounger for when he'd want to enjoy some time by the pool side later.

Later was now, apparently.

Joe sat and took off his loafers as he looked over at the pool where the sun made the surface glitter, and then you saw him turn his head to look at you, giving you a polite smile.

“I was going to bring it over last night,” you blurted out as you sat up a little, “I promise, room 907, I didn’t forget. It was just, it got a bit late, and I didn’t want to maybe wake you– I’ll give it back today,” God, the nervosity practically dripped from the words you squeaked out. 

Joe just smiled, which only made it worse.

“I... I’ll go get it right now, sorry,” you swung your legs to the side but stopped when you heard Joe laugh. 

“That’s okay, no worries,” he quickly said, stopping your feet from finding your flip flops.

“I wasn’t going to keep it,” you reassured.

“I didn’t think you were.”

Okay, good.

“None of my other things have gone missing, so you’re fine,” Joe scrunched his nose and made a face before he got comfy with his book in his lap.

You thought back to that first night with his suitcase. He was sort of right. You could’ve easily kept something - probably would have if you’d listened to your friend who kept telling you, “That looks great on you, fucking keep it,” over and over.

“About that...” you heard yourself say it before you could stop yourself.

“Can I, just, do you want my unsolicited opinion on something?”

Joe found the page in his book he’d left off on and used fingers to bend the spine a bit further. He didn’t really reply, which you took as an invitation to just drop what had been on your mind without holding back.

“Just, I don’t understand, you seem–” you thought your choice of words over just for a second. “You sort of seem like you know what you’re doing. Man on a business trip, expensive clothing, all tailored I’m guessing, and then there’s– I’m sorry, but why would you use two-in-one shampoo?” 

Joe blinked at you a second.

“And not only use it, but bring it?!” 

It took Joe a second to figure out how to react to your animated question. You seemed genuinely grossed out and properly confused. 

Man on a business trip.

That tickled him.

“You um... you went through my toiletries?” Joe asked, eyes back in his book, hoping that maybe the question would get you to blush again like you’d blushed when you’d met at the airport the day before. 

“I went through everything, and you fucking know it,” you couldn’t help but laugh yourself now. “Please tell me that bottle has been in your that bag since the nineties and you don’t actually use it still,” 

Joe snorted, head bobbing a little. 

“I mean,” he started, “It’s how long I’ve had the bag, so that’s not as implausible as you’d think,” 

“Yea, it looks it, Joe” you jabbed, grinning, and that’s when Joe realised. 

The fucking toiletries bag.

The one he’d had since he was eight.

The one his mother had written his name on with black sharpie so he wouldn’t lose it. 

JOE

He could picture it clear as day.

You knew his name because you’d read it on his toiletries bag.

You didn’t know who he was. 

His mother’s handwriting had revealed his name to you, and you didn’t fully understand the wistful little smile that overtook his face for a moment as he frowned at his book a little.

This new knowledge shifted something for him. He could dissect the relief of it all later, if he wanted to. Now, it just made him want to entertain this interaction further.

So he did.

Asked you if he was correct at having missed you at breakfast. Told you he wasn't actually on a business trip, but just there for a short break from the hustle and bustle of the city, of work.

You told him you were there for the same reason, and you swapped similar stories of busy jobs and hectic schedules, of tensed shoulders and worried supervisors who pressured you into trips to the sun, and now, here you were. By the poolside of a nice hotel where they served nice drinks and, would you like a drink? What did you have last night?

“Stop, if anyone needs to get anyone a drink here, it’s me. As a thank you for the jacket and not having me, you know, arrested.”

You got up, were about to wave your card in Joe’s face but found yourself plonking back down onto the lounger.

Weird.

You didn’t feel dizzy at all, but somehow your balance felt off. You went to test it by giving your head a little shake, and then suddenly, the world moved sideways. Gravity pulled at you from the side, making you lean there a little, and then, a lot.

There was lounger where you landed, shoulder first, but there wasn’t enough lounger. After bouncing once, you felt yourself slide.

It somehow felt fine, didn’t make you panic at all, your brain already making sense of it but in all the wrong ways. You didn’t feel so heavy, head all light, and so the thud to the floor wasn’t so bad. It was almost like you floated down there, but then, with your cheek pressed against the warm concrete, everything unexpectedly moved upwards with a rough jerk. Smacked you right in the face and the rest of your body sort of slumped down, hurting your cheekbone and what you thought was your brow bone as your full weight seemed shoved into them.

It hurt.

Not in the same way the cold water of the pool hurt the bones of your feet when you'd sat on the edge of it earlier – this felt worse. Cutting.

Your face was pushed into the ground by your own weight until out of the blue, the concrete moved away from you, and you floated back up. Back the right side up.

There were hands and they pulled, and it hurt your arm, your elbow, your shoulder.

“Did you faint? What the– did you faint? No, you– hang on,”

Hands clambered at you until you were back on soft familiar surface, but everything felt a little sticky. And somehow you were fucking freezing.

“Joe?”

You felt your vocal cords say it, you knew you just said something, but you didn’t hear them. Was your voice not working? Or was it your hearing that had gone?

“You fainted,”

“It’s fine, I don’t– what’s happening, what is…”

“Fucking hell, lay down a second. Legs up too, just, I want you flat– be flat,”

You didn’t move quick enough for Joe’s liking, which Joe realized, of course you fucking didn’t. You just smashed yourself face first into the concrete and your eyebrow was bleeding now. In an attempt to gracefully get your legs up onto the lounger too, Joe nearly flung you off of the whole thing on the other side. Managed to grab you by the side just before you swung too far.

“Hands, hands,” Joe just grabbed them. “Give me your hands.” He was already holding them. “Here, hold the sides for me. I need to move you into the shade.”

And then the whole world moved. A tree came into view as the lounger you were on got dragged across grass. It disoriented you into a dizzy spin that made you forget which way was up for a second, even though you were staring right at up.

In no time, two guys who wore polo shirts with hotel-logo-nametags hovered over you and a lady from three sun loungers over stepped in to tell them to get a first aid kit. Something to clean that gash with. To make the bleeding stop.  

Joe stepped back and let her mother you for a second, told one of the guys who worked at the hotel that you’d gotten up from the sun lounger and then just… fell.  

The lady asked if you’d eaten, and you tried to convince her you were fine and that all of the fuss was a bit much, but then you had to confess that you hadn’t actually eaten and you’d also not slept very well the night before, and the night before that, and, you actually hadn't slept normal in ages, and your shoulders hurt, lower back too, and you’d drank a lot the night before, and, Jesus Christ, you were so fucking cold.  

“Someone get her something to drink, she needs sugar,” 

“And a sandwich maybe? Something to eat?” Joe added, making the other man scurry off.  

There was a moment where the lady and Joe looked at each other and then both looked back at you and you felt so stupidly embarrassed.

“Can I– I want to go back to my room,”  

So you could fester in your own embarrassment by yourself in peace and quiet. Without people staring down at you, and no doubt from all around the pool too with all the commotion that was made.  

“They’re getting you a drink and some food, and you need your eyebrow looked at,” the lady smiled politely at you, using a finger to wipe some of your hair away from getting stuck in the blood there. 

You moved a hand up to touch it, to feel how bad it was, but saw Joe reach an arm out that he quickly snapped away when you halted. You moved it to your mouth instead, to bite at the thumb nail to stop your teeth from chattering.  

You were outside and people were barely wearing any clothes and seemed fine – why were you still freezing?  

“Are you cold?” the woman asked, already looking around for a towel to drape over you. 

“I’m fine,” you lied, and heard Joe huff a laugh. Obviously, you weren’t.  

“Here,” he said, and you saw how he handed over the white hotel towel from his sun lounger. It got carefully placed over your shoulders, and it helped a little, but you just wanted to go upstairs and crawl back into bed. Get under the warm covers and sleep this off.  

The first aid kit arrived, and this random hotel guest in a bathing suit took it from the guy who’d brought it over. She took over completely, cleaned your face with disinfectant and asked for Joe to help her cut a piece of tape to bandage it up. You saw his fingers fumble, shaking a little bit, like he seemed nervous.  

A plated club sandwich and a can of coke arrived. After plenty of “How are you feeling?” and you repeating that you were fine over and over and over in between sips and bites, you were finally asked which room you were staying in, and if you were there with someone.  

You hesitated to answer, afraid that if you said you were alone, they wouldn’t just let you go back to your room. They should, of course they should just let you do whatever, but there were three strangers doting over you all worriedly, and then also a fourth one who, even though you'd gone through everything he brought on this trip, was still technically a stranger too.  

“It’s okay,” Joe then said. “I’ll take her up to her room.”  

And before you could complain about it, he’d slung his towel around his neck, had taken the glass and the plate, then bent sideways and stuck an elbow out for you to loop an arm through.  

It was a little weird to walk into the hotel with Joe. To get into the lifts with Joe. To step into your room with Joe. 

It was a little weirder to say you were going to shower and that you were fine, thank you.  

It was a little weirder when Joe didn’t just accept that and looked at you with worried eyes before he asked if you could shower with the door open, and if he could sit just outside in case the hot water did silly things to your blood pressure. What if you dropped in the shower and no one would be there to stop you from drowning?  

“Drown? It’s a shower.” 

“Place could flood.” Joe shrugged. 

It was weird when you looked at each other a second and you realised he wasn’t going to leave. Wasn’t going to let you shower with the door shut and locked, and so, fine. 

Joe awkwardly stood in the middle of your hotel room, plate and drink still in hand, when you moved the desk chair closer to the bathroom door.  

“I’m sorry, I just, that lady from downstairs will murder me if I don’t make sure you’re okay,”  

You laughed at his excuse and gestured for him to put all he was holding down on the desk.  

“I’ll be quick.” You said, finding a change of clothes to take into the bathroom with you. 

“Please, take your time. Don’t rush.”  

You didn’t rush, but were quick anyway. You now had a man waiting for you to finish a shower and you knew you’d gone through all of his things, but leaving him alone in your hotel room surrounded by all of your things felt invasive.  

The warm water was nice and managed to relax your shoulders a little.  

Not a lot.  

But, you know, all little bits helped. 

“I’m okay,” you called when you shut off the water, hoping maybe Joe would reply, ok great, and maybe leave. He didn’t. Just said, “Good.” and then stayed put.  

When you emerged with wet hair, in soft shorts and a white tank top, Joe smiled at you. His eyes immediately went to the wet bandage that covered your eyebrow still, the tape strong enough to have kept it in place. Good. That was good.

His smile quickly disappeared however, when he saw you rub a hand at your neck, your face displaying a painful grimace. 

“Your jacket,” you pointed and Joe looked. Saw his jacket. Had seen it already. 

He didn’t move to grab it, instead turning back to you. His eyes flicked between your face that displayed painful discomfort and the hand that was squeezing at the flesh of your shoulder now. 

“All right, I’ll leave you alone in a second, but before you tell me you’re fine again, can I… can I just…” Joe held both his hands up. You just looked at them and didn’t move. Joe, in turn, placed both hands on top of your shoulders and frowned at what he felt.  

“Jesus, all right,” Joe turned, looked around the room, eyes darting and brain going at top speeds to put a plan together.   

“Do you mind if I…?”  

Perhaps Joe could start actually finishing his sentences, you thought, although you thought you knew what he meant and shrugged both your shoulders up to your ears.  

“No,” Joe’s eyes grew wide before he tutted at you. “Don’t, that doesn’t help. Come, sit,” 

Joe sat down on the edge of the bed before you did.  

“Face that way,” Joe pointed towards the windows, away from him. You followed instructions without question and felt how he collected your hair into one hand before carefully placing it over a shoulder so it’d be out of the way. 

“You know this isn’t what this is meant to feel like, right?” You could hear the humour carried in his voice. Of course you knew that. You knew you also weren’t meant to bite at your nails until your fingers bled. Weren’t meant to wake up sweating and panting because you’d hallucinated being trapped in a small dark place again.  

You felt the mattress level out behind you as Joe got up and stepped forward. He bent to the side a little, getting his shoulder in front of your face. 

“Here,” he touched himself where he’d touched you just before. “Feel this bit, how you can easily squeeze the soft tissue here?”  

You reached up, hesitated for a moment, but then touched Joe over his linen shirt that had a few buttons done up now, and squeezed where he told you to squeeze. Like it was normal.  

That was… that was all muscle.  

Not as thick and hard as whatever was happening to your shoulders, but these were Joe’s warm muscles you were pressing your fingers into. 

“Now feel yours,” Joe moved back, touched his fingers to where he wanted you to feel, and made you squeeze yourself in the same spot and, yea, okay, that was a big difference.  

“I am also here to relax, but clearly one of us needs it more than the other,” Joe huffed a laugh through his nostrils as he sat down on the bed again behind you and he got back to what he was doing before. 

“I've not gotten a good night's sleep in months,” you revealed as Joe dug thumbs into where it hurt.

Hurt good. 

Hurt so good. 

“You should book a massage,” Joe spoke softly, but kept massaging your shoulders, the bottom of your neck.  

“Hmmh,” you replied, afraid that if you’d say anything else, he’d stop what he was doing.  

Joe kneaded and pushed and squeezed and touched for a while, and you noticed you were starting to have to work really hard at not flopping over. At sitting up right and keeping your eyes open. You repressed yawns and tried to remember to breath properly, but you’d just had a nice shower and you’d barely gotten any sleep before and now you were on your bed in a comfortable outfit and Joe was massaging you with his big hands and maybe you could rest your eyes, for just a second, you know? 

“Here, lay down,” Joe suddenly whispered and without acknowledging how weird it was that Joe just sat outside your bathroom whilst you showered and was now massaging you to sleep in your hotel room, you just laid down. Instantly got comfortable on your stomach leaving enough space for Joe to sit on the side, one knee folded onto the bed and the other dangling down the side still.  

“There’s a– do you feel this?” Joe pushed knuckles exactly where you wanted them. “Huge knot.” 

“Feels nice,” you whispered, breathy and exhausted. 

“I can loosen it up a bit more, but this– you really should get a professional massage,”  

Joe kept working strong fingers and even stronger knuckles into the same spots until you couldn’t even feel it anymore. Just felt numb. Or maybe you were just falling asleep and not stopping yourself from slipping under.  

Joe’s hands never ventured much lower – maybe just a little, but nothing inappropriate. You were only strangers after all. He thought that you knew who he was but then you didn’t and now the playing field was level and, sure, you knew more about him because you’d gone through his whole suitcase, but he was in your hotel room now and you were falling asleep under his touch.

Fell asleep under his touch. 

You woke up in an empty hotel room hours later, covered by the folded-over other half of the duvet you were lying on top of.  

You felt… well rested. Only a little disoriented. A little thirsty. Nothing crazy. 

The last thing you remembered feeling was Joe’s fingers trailing from your shoulders down your arms and back up again and you felt a little sad that he wasn’t there anymore.   

It was still light out, but the sun was setting and it felt like the whole day had passed you by today. You stretched, body feeling looser. Better. Joe was right though, you needed to book a massage. Maybe two. Or three.  

When you looked over and saw Joe’s jacket still there, slung over the back of the chair that was now back in its spot behind the desk, you couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped you. He could’ve taken that – should have taken that, and yet… 

Yea, the day had been weird.

Had been weird from the start.

The weird night's sleep, Joe's toiletries bag, the wound above your eye, the empty coke can on the desk, the massage that had put you to sleep for several uninterrupted hours, and, Joe's jacket.

Weird.

And then room service was weird.

And watching the sunset from your balcony was weird.

Then trying to get back into bed for actual nighttime sleep was weird.

All of it, just... weird.

Room 907.

You'd said you would return the jacket today.

And then he'd been in your room and he'd stayed with you until you'd fallen asleep and then he hadn't taken it.

Joe's jacket was still in your hotel room.

Weird.

You tried ignoring it. Tried to watch TV. Scrolled on your phone. Thought of taking a long bath, maybe.

But that stupid jacket. It kept calling your attention from across the room.

Even after turning off all the lights and tossing and turning for about an hour, you could still feel it there. Taunting. Whispering dares.

Bring me to his hotel room.

Take me there.

Come on.

And...

Fuck.

All right.

You sat up in bed, flicked on a light and squinted both eyes at the sudden brightness.

There it was, still in the same spot. Joe's jacket.

“Fine. You win.” you told no one and slung your legs out of bed, grumbling with annoyance as you took the jacket from the chair and found your hotel room key on the side.

Room 907.

The hotel was quiet as you took the lift down two floors and found Joe's room quick enough.

You stalled a second, unsure if you should knock, but then thought, fuck it. You were there now, jacket in hand, and you'd said you'd bring it back today. You knocked softly, then waited and listened. Nothing. Just to be safe, you knocked again, and then heard the soft click of a light switch. You ignored how that made your heart thunder in your throat.

It didn't take long for the door to open. When you saw Joe's tired face, you immediately knew you'd made a mistake.

You should've waited 'til the next morning. This wasn't a cool move.

“Your jacket,” you felt so dumb. Looked so dumb.

But then you caught sight of the smallest of smiles as Joe took it from you, holding the door wide open as he did.

A beat of silence followed where you hoped Joe'd say thanks, so you could tell him thank you for letting you borrow it in return.

The thanks never came.

Instead Joe stepped aside, door still wide open, and gave a tiny backwards nod that welcomed you inside, followed by a quiet whisper.

“Come on.”

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thefemininemystiquee, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry

[stories-of-the-nrm]

Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds Part 9

(Gary pats Scott's hand).

Gary: Steady old boy. It's February.

(Scott tries to speak groggily).

Scott: My boiler?

George: Being fitted now for a trial.

(Scott takes a breath).

Scott: I can breathe better.

Gary: That's wonderful. If all goes well, you can finally get back into your body.

Scott: Thank you.

(He looks at the iv in his arm).

Scott: What's this?

George: Don't touch that. You've been given painkillers to make this whole experience more bearable.

(He leans back in bed).

Scott: To think. I've been asleep. For only a couple of months.

(There's a long pause).

Gary: Scott. What year is this?

(He takes a breath).

Scott: You mentioned February. That means it must. Be my birthday soon. In 2008.

(Everyone looks at each other).

George: Well yes. Your birthday will be coming up soon. But it hasn't only been a couple months.

Gary: He's right mate. This is 2009, about 18 months since work stopped on your boiler.

(Scott looks at the two and lets the birthday card from Gordon fall out of his hands. In a state of shock he sounds strangely American).

Scott: Well that sucks.

(They all chuckle).

Mr. Scott: I understand the confusion. However we did make quite a bit of progress. It isn't quite the same as a steam test, but you can breathe yes?

(Scott tries to breathe).

Scott: Not as my original form. But it is better.

(Mr. Scott hands over the phone).

Mr. Scott: I have Sir Topham Hatt on the phone for you. Gordon wasn't able to make it today.

(Scott takes the phone).

Scott: Thank you sir.

(Everyone leaves the room while Scott talks).

George: Is there a specific reason behind the refitting happening now, sir?

Mr. Scott: There are talks of another Railfest. I'm sure you are aware of the latest Peppercorn completing her first passenger trip on the Main Line.

Gary: Yes. Isn't she to be officially named by the Crown Prince?

Mr. Scott: Indeed. On the 19th. Hence, the talk of showcasing her at an official exhibition. My hope is to have Scott be in a relatively suitable position to appear.

(They sit down in the waiting area).

Mr. Scott: The money put into Scott's overhaul has been. Astronomically high. Railfest will prove to be a great opportunity to recoup some of our losses.

George: How so?

Mr. Scott: Depending on the engines available, the plan is to construct a roster of record breakers.

Gary: And Scott would be one of them as the first official engine to go 100 mph.

(They take a moment to reflect that revelation).

George: How much time would we have before then?

Mr. Scott: I don't know as we are still in initial talks. Given the numerous delays, I have no idea how much longer this will take. My hope is that we will have at least a couple more months of progress while Scott is awake.

(There is a moment of silence).

Mr. Scott: I best be going now. Until I get further notice, just do your best to keep things normal.

Gary: Yes sir.

George: His birthday will be coming up soon so we'll celebrate in his room.

Mr. Scott: Good. Now to get my phone back.

(He goes to collect his phone as Scott hangs up with Sir Topham Hatt).

Scott: Thank you for letting me. Borrow your.

(He looks at the phone).

Scott: No-kia.

Mr. Scott: You are most welcome.

(He leaves the room as Gary and George sit back then).

George: Hey mate. How are things?

Scott: I'm still in pain. But with this... tube I find it to be more bearable.

George: That's good. We we're thinking about how to celebrate your birthday this year.

Scott: Splendid, I would love to hear it.

(George turns to Gary).

Gary: Well. We of course have to follow your care team's orders. And you have to go through some testing to see how you're doing.

Scott: Ah yes. With it still being February, I can admit to not being up to any outdoor activities.

Gary: But if your doctor says it's alright, we might be able to tuck into a treacle tart.

(Scott's eyes light up).

Scott: Oh that will be glorious.

Narrator: The next few days were uneventful until the day of the Peppercorn's naming ceremony.

(Gary turns the tv on).

Announcer: What a lovely day in York as we bring you to the station where His Royal Highness, Prince Charles of Wales and the Duchess of Cornwall are slated to name the latest creation in British Rail history. We have on field reporter Harry just outside the station. Harry, how would you describe this morning crowd?

(Scott turns to George).

Scott: Latest creation? Have I missed something, gentlemen?

(George takes a breath).

George: You are familiar with the A1 Steam Locomotive Trust correct?

Scott: Why yes, I am. They attempted to use my redundant second tender for their new engine. The last I had heard was that it was meant to be a Peppercorn worth over a million pounds.

George: Well, they finished the engine while you were asleep and officially completed a run on the Main Line.

(Scott's eyes widen).

Scott: This is wonderful news!

(Gary and George look at each other).

Gary: It is?

Scott: Of course. I'm aware you gentlemen would not have been alive for this, but the Peppercorn Class were top of the line passenger trains immediately after the war. Why my own brother mentored the young engines as they were being tested.

Gary: I didn't know Gordon took special trips to mentor.

(Scott's mood sours).

Scott: Gordon was not who I was referring to. While it is true he is my brother, please keep in mind that I have had a plethora of siblings. My immediate eldest brother was Great Northern. He was the pride of that class and by Gresley he was the best performing. It was an absolute devastation for an engine of his caliber to be scrapped.

Gary: I'm sure it was old boy. But given that this engine was completed well before your own repairs using similar resources, how is this wonderful news.

Scott: You have no idea what it would mean for me to see another steam engine in operative condition these days.

George: Hold that chatter, they're showing Prince Charles.

(The crowd on tv cheers as the Prince begins his speech).

It clearly is wonderful that so many volunteers and enthusiasts have put so much time and effort and sheer love into building this incredible locomotive. I have nothing but the greatest admiration for the team of people who for the last 19 years have been doing their utmost to produce this remarkable achievement. A tribute I think to all those incredible British engineering skills, which have made this country so famous. It clearly is wonderful that so many volunteers and enthusiasts have put so much time and effort and sheer love into building this incredible locomotive. What gives me even greater pride and pleasure is the fact that I’m exactly the same age as the A1 Locomotive - 1948 - a very good vintage I promise you. I think also this locomotive is a great tribute to Arthur Peppercorn and his original design. He was the last Chief Mechanical Engineer of the London and North East Railway and the wonderful thing is that his widow Mrs Dorothy Mather, is here today as President of the A1 Trust. I’m sure she shares equally in my delight to see the birth of the fiftieth A1 locomotive. So ladies and gentlemen after a wonderful tribute to the commitment and hard work of the A1 Trust and its army of voluntary supporters over the past 19 years, to whom we owe the greatest possible debt of gratitude, the steam engine has been returned to the British mainline and will again serve as an iconic and inspirational symbol of Britain. And as someone who remembers the days of steam engines so well, this really is a special day. Now Ladies and Gentlemen, my wife and I would like to declare that this engine is named ‘Tornado’. May God Bless all who are lucky enough to locomote behind her.

(Scott claps as Tornado's face is revealed to the public as a female engine).

Scott: What a perfect name to honor the RAF fighter forces from the decade prior and the original Peppercorn's history as a speedy passenger train.

Gary: Scott can you please elaborate on why you view this so positively?

(He stops clapping and turns to Gary).

Scott: Yes of course. For an older engine like myself to survive the Beeching Cuts, dieselisation, and my own withdrawal from service. I had seen practically my entire family disappear with only memories that remain. The days of steam appeared to be completely over and that it was by sheer luck that I was spared.

(He takes a breath).

Scott: I can understand the frustration that my. Overhaul has not come to plan, but I don't hold any ill will to this young engine. She is clearly a product of well intentioned, and highly focused individuals dedicated to steam history.

(He looks at the tv and sees how excited and nervous Tornado is).

Scott: Perhaps, this will finally be my purpose for being saved. The pressures of being the media darling in the steam world are something I'm very familiar with. She needs a mentor. And I believe I can serve that role once I'm in better condition.

(George turns the tv off).

George: You will old boy. One day.

Tagging: @londonflowerboy, @werbitssft, @klein-sodor-bahn, @theyellowroseofsodor, @juniebugsss,

@tornadoyoungiron, @pxmun, @nelllia, @pxmun2, @thefedoragirl,

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[cbrownjc]

Hello :) I was wondering if we ever got confirmation about which books Rolin is interested in focusing this adaptation on? I know that they'll probably take elements from most (if not all) VC books, but if they're aiming at 7-8 seasons with some books taking multiple seasons to adapt, they're going to have to pick and choose which books to really dig into.

I was also thinking about production. I've seen people talk about how we'll need to wait another 1.5-2 years between seasons and I kinda doubt that? I feel like we'll start speeding things up and getting a new season every year, mostly because I just can't see them go for 12+ years of production on this show. Very few shows nowadays go more than 10 years, and if they really want to do 7-8 seasons I can't see how they'll manage that with 1.5 to 2 years in between each season. I understand they're in for the long haul with the Immortal Universe but...that's very long in the modern drama landscape.

Honestly I am mostly just hoping to get new seasons more frequently and also be able to see their full vision realized because the longer it goes on the higher the chance they'll run into issues like actor availability, leadership changes that could impact renewals, budget restrictions, etc. What do you think?

Hello!

Okay, first to answer the production question. Now, while many shows rarely go past 10 years wrt production of them, that is really dependent on their Season count. Game of Thrones, for example, only ran for 8 Seasons, and production only lasted 8 years as well.

The Walking Dead ran for 11 Seasons and was produced over 12 years.

AMC has said in the past (or, at least, Rolin Jones has said that AMC has said) that they wanted 10 Seasons for IWTV. RJ, however, has been consistent in saying he has an 8 Season plan.

So whether the show continues on for at least 2 more years after Rolin's 8 Season plan is up in the air right now and we should just focus on, at most, getting 8 Seasons, Which yes, I think will take over the course of 8-9 years to film.

Because I think starting with Season 3, the wait and production times will decrease over time. Remember, the strikes threw a bit of a wrench into things. But what also did regarding Season 2 was that it's clear that Rolin and the writing staff didn't start actually writing Season 2 until AMC had officially greenlit Season 2 back in September of 2022. That is why shooting for Season 2 couldn't start in the fall of 2022, there were no scripts broken, let alone written yet!

And then, once the scripts were done, they still had to start pre-production stuff, such as location scouting, figuring out which sets needed to be built, etc.

So shooting for Season 2 could only start shooting when it did because it was the earliest they could get all that done once they were given a renewal notice.

I think things are very different when it comes to Season 3 because I think, even if the show hadn't already been quietly renewed for Season 3 before it was officially announced, RJ and the other writers were already breaking and writing the scripts for Season 3 starting either just before or while Season 2 was airing. And so given that writing time, plus the fact that they probably don't have to do as much location scouting (since many of those locations were already found in Season 2) pre-production will likely take less time.

I think filming will begin in late October, meaning we'd get an October 2025 release date. Which I think will be the standard release window going forward with each new season and why the wait will be another long one again, but that will also give the production staff and actors breathing room after they are done filming a season before going into the next one.

So for that reason, I can see production of the show lasting 9-10 years, but that is because of the extra 1/2 year gaps between the filming and airing of Season 2 and the one I feel we are going to get for Season 3.

As well as the fact that I think when they get to Queen of the Damned, that will be a true split-season like the one Breaking Bad got for its final season. That show had Season 5, Part 1, and Season 5, Part 2. Because even though this past season was called "Season 2" externally, you can see by the episode numbers that internally, what this really was was "Season 1, Part 2."

Anyway, as to the books being adapted -- and not just having elements taken from them -- Rolin has said for sure we are getting IWTV (which we just finished), The Vampire Lestat (Season 3), Queen of the Damned (which is where he spoke about it being so epic and grand a story that they will probably have to split the season in order to tell it all) and Tale of the Body Theif (which he confirmed after Season 2 was finished that they were beginning to already set up for). He also mentioned at Comic-Con in 2022 that Prince Lestat would be adapted.

Also, while RJ talked about the book The Vampire Armand being important, he's never said it would get its own separate adaptation, which honestly makes sense. Because of the way that book is told, you can just interweave elements of it when you want to focus on Armand's backstory, or even just do a stand-alone episode here and there dedicated to parts of it. It really isn't the kind of book you do a full season on IMO.

So yeah. The books that we know for sure are getting their own, full adaptations per RJ so far are IWTV, TVL, QotD, TotBT, and PL.

I can see them throwing elements of books like Memnoch, TVA, and Blood and Gold into it all, but I don't know if they'll get their own full-season adaptations. As I said, I don't think TVA will. And I don't think B&G will either, as I see it just like TVA -- you adapt elements of it during a season, maybe even full sections of it for a flashback episode or so during a season, but it doesn't get its own full stand-alone season.

The same goes for Merrick, since they already did Louis' suicide attempt and Louis seems to be moving forward from his despair and grief regarding Claudia -- so that even if Lestat did fall into his post-Memnoch coma in the show, I'm not sure this Louis would attempt to end his life again over that loss. (Even more so after this Louis also got that letter from Lestat in the past, telling Louis to please live on in the event of his death.)

I have no idea if they are seriously going to ever do Blackwood Farm or Blood Canticle. Neither book has ever been mentioned, even in passing. Plus, they kind of depend on what and where Mayfair Witches is at or has going on at the time and well, that show . . . 😅

Oh! And they might be looking to adapt the whole Prince Lestat trilogy, but I don't remember if RJ has talked about adapting the whole trilogy -- meaning the entirety of each book -- or just the full first book and then elements from the other two. (Because I do think it's clear that, if anything, we'll get the Loustat ballroom dance from Blood Communion in the final season of the show).

So yeah, I think that this is what we're looking at for the next few years, book adaptation-wise.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

I HELLO IM NOT MISSING THIS WEEK. Can I get some more of my demon boy?

WIP Wednesday (3/5) | Demon Neil AU (Part 24)

For the better part of an hour Andrew has been gritting his teeth and resisting the urge to slam his client in the back of the head with his fist. But he's not sure how much longer he's going to be able to do so. You see, this bastard will not keep still and Neil's snickering every time the idiot flinches is starting to drive Andrew insane. He likes to think himself a professional, but it is getting ridiculous.

"What's wrong with this guy?" Neil asks the sixth time Andrew almost gets himself horse kicked in the stomach. He dodges and takes a breath. "I mean... He was aware this process involved a needle, right?"

"I assumed so since we did the lines last week," Andrew says as he wipes down the leg he's working on. "Apparently not."

"What?" asks the guy on the table, turning to look at Andrew.

"If you kick me again, we're done. You can walk around with this half finished for all I care."

"What? You can't just—"

"I can do whatever I want," Andrew says, jamming a finger at him. "Put your headphones back on and stay still."

"Great bedside manner."

"Fuck you." Andrew whispers. His little outburst pays off though. The guy lies still as a corpse for the next thirty minutes and Andrew quietly applauds himself for not knocking him out. In fact, he thinks he deserves a cookie for his restraint. Neil laughs at that and makes fun of the tattoo in the same breath.

"I drew it, you know." Andrew tells him on an exhale, almost offended. Neil had liked his work earlier. What's wrong with this?

"No, no. I like your art. But why is it on the back of his leg?"

"People do weird shit."

"A bird on the leg's worth two in the bush?" Neil jokes and Andrew turns his head to hide a stupid laugh in his shoulder. "I mean he's not even going to be able to see it without a mirror. So what's the point?"

There are far weirder places to put a tattoo, Andrew thinks. For instance, the woman who got a Hello Kitty on her ass cheek a couple weeks ago— Andrew did not handle that job. That was Allison. Besides, Andrew himself has tattoos he can't really see, so...

"What tattoos?"

"I have one on my back, for instance. And there's one that lives under my sock—"

"Are you talking to yourself, Andy?" asks Seth's voice as he comes back in from his car. Andrew bites the inside of his jaw and Neil bitches about that.

"Shut up, Bryan." Andrew says, flipping him off with his free hand. Seth blows him a kiss and Andrew hopes that he and Reynolds make up before the day's over. They're both less unbearable when they're fucking. As soon as Seth turns around, Andrew sighs. "You're making me look fucking schizophrenic here, Neil."

"Hello, I'm in your head. You don't have to answer me out loud, Andy."

"Do not." Andrew thinks violently. Seth's bullshit aside, he will not tolerate the nickname coming from inside his own skull.

"Okay. Fine. How long does all this take?"

Andrew very nearly opens his mouth to answer, then catches himself. "Depends on the tattoo."

"This one specifically. I'm bored."

"Another hour or so, I think." Andrew thinks back as he surveys the phoenix he's put on the back of Cory's— that's Mr. Kicks-a-Lot's actual name— leg. "If the fucker stays still and I don't choke him to death first."

"Well, either way we'll be done with him soon." 

Luckily for all parties involved, the rest of the phoenix goes off without a hitch. When Andrew is through he sets the machine aside and grabs a fresh tissue to wipe it all down. It's perfect. Neil hums his agreement and Cory finally risks looking at Andrew again, pulling his headphones off.

"Is it done?"

"Is it done." Andrew confirms with a nod of his head. Once Andrew is finished wiping it down, he lets Cory off the table and he wanders off to the mirror the check it out. Renee takes photos of it for the shop's social media accounts and after a few post-tattoo pleasantries— it is usually quite easy to be nice to someone when they aren't trying to kick your ribs in, Andrew finds— Cory leaves the shop all plastic-wrapped and satisfied.

"One down, one to go." Renee says with a smile. Andrew nods. His other appointment is a consultation, but they might go ahead and get started if the client's got the time.

He has nothing else to do today, after all. Except for finding a ride home that is not purgatory for Neil. He supposes he could call Kevin; he's pretty used to hauling Andrew around. He's been begging for the opportunity to buy Andrew a 'decent' car for years, the bastard. He's almost decided on it when Neil starts vibrating.

"Never mind, we'll walk."

"Andrew, I'll behave. I'm not allowed to control the body anyway so it's not like I would embarrass you."

"My body. Mine." Andrew reminds him. "We'll see."

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Compromising Positions: Part Four

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: An unsub is targeting and killing married couples, and you and Spencer go undercover in hopes of drawing out the unsub. Not only does it not work, but it opens a can of worms you don't think Spencer is ready to open.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

Before the night is over, there are many reports of a gunman shooting up a swinger's club in the comfort zone of the unsub. By the time you get there, the unsub has already left, leaving behind many victims who are either dead or injured. The hostess of the club is outside shaken up, eager to get through your line of questioning so she can be alone. Two coroners wheel a dead body past the woman who flinches back from the sight.

"Are you almost done? I can't look at this any longer."

"Almost, ma'am. The gunman tonight, did you know him?"

"James. He and his wife, Maryann, were fixtures here a year ago. They just stopped coming."

"Do you have a last name?" you ask.

"No. We don't share personal details like that."

"You have sex but you don't ask for last names?" She nods. "All of the victims here tonight were men. Do you happen to know why?"

"No."

"Do you know if he had the chance to shoot any women?"

"I was in the playroom with my friend. We locked the door when the shooting started, and he came in and he looked at me like I was nothing. So, no, no, I have no idea what he was after. I'm just glad it wasn't me."

"Ma'am, if the door was locked, how did he get in?"

She doesn't have an answer to that. You leave Derek's side and walk inside the swinger's club to where Rossi and Spencer are. The paramedics haven't cleared all of the dead bodies left so there are a few of them when you enter the room.

"This was the last victim. The unsub came from the living room into here."

"The hostess locked herself in here," you say. "It didn't seem to slow him down, though."

Spencer walks over to the door and inspects the lock.

"This is a deadbolt. The unsub could have easily shot his way through. He'd only pick the lock out of habit. The deadbolt is designed for security. It takes expertise to get past that."

You take out your phone and call Hotch to let him know.

"Hey, Hotch. What if our unsub is a locksmith?" You explain to him about the deadbolt. "We knew he was stalking his victims at the gym, but we never knew how he got into their lives. When you're working out, where's the one place you leave everything personal? In a locker."

"Once the unsub finds an alpha male, he can pick the lock, get their address off their driver's license, and duplicate their keys in his work van outside," Hotch agrees.

"Yeah, that's the missing piece to his MO. He got everything he needed from these men before they left the shower."

"Garcia's already ruled out gym employees and members. How's he getting in?"

"It could be a third-party vendor called in to install the lockers. They'd call him in when someone loses their key."

"Alright. Come back to the station. We'll work this up."

You, Derek, Spencer, and Rossi head back to the police station and let local police handle the crime scene. You're hit with a wave of stress as soon as you walk in, and you look to the right to see Penelope inside an empty office. She's overworking herself.

"Hotch. We need to rethink this unsub's decompensation. We thought his wife would be the next logical target, especially if she left him, but if it's other men, he could blame them for breaking up his marriage. It's the same thought process that started him hunting alpha males to begin with," Derek says.

"What does that tell us about where he might be going?"

"Nothing, but it might tell us where he's been."

"Decompensation means he's returning to his old patterns and habits. Maybe he did this before. After his wife left, he sought out some of her partners and killed them," you say.

"You want to look at unsolved murders?"

"Crowley can pull them for us and match them based on the unsub's caliber."

"Good, you might also need to give Garcia a hand working the locksmith angle?"

"Is she okay?" you ask.

"She's juggling two jobs. She might need some help."

"I got this," you say and walk to the office she's in. You knock twice before entering her space. She barely looks at you as she types furiously on her laptop. "Hey, how are you doing?"

"Well, the gyms found out about the massacre so they're giving me information on the locksmiths, and that's a whole other can of worms." She does a double-take when she sees the look on your face. "I'm fine."

"Penelope..."

"Y/N, people are going to die because of me."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is. JJ did so much. I am in so over my head, I'm swimming--" She looks to the ceiling and flutters her lashes. "Oh, my God, I hate these things."

"Okay, you need a two-minute break." She opens her mouth to argue but you're not having it. "I don't want to hear it. Let me help you. Take them out. Where's your saline?"

"Front pocket of my bag."

You grab the saline packet as she removes one of her contacts. You sit down on the edge of the desk next to her chair and hand her the saline packet.

"Do you know what your only mistake has been since you started?"

"Oh, hooray. More criticism," she says sarcastically.

"You are trying to replace JJ. Nobody can replace JJ. Now take the other one out, too."

She sighs and does as she's told, placing both contacts in the saline solution.

"I'm not trying to replace her. I'm trying to do this job the way she'd want it done."

"Okay, what's your name?"

"What?"

"Humor me. What's your name?"

"Penelope Garcia."

"Does that sound like JJ to you? No, because you're not her. She was great at this job and you can, too, only if you do it your way and not hers."

You grab the contacts and throw them in the trash, and she gasps.

"Y/N, I'm a little blind right now, but it appears the rough blur that is you just threw out my only pair of contact lenses."

You grab her glasses from their case and slide them onto her face.

"There, you're looking more like you a little more. Because I know you, I know you have something in here that will help." You grab her bag and rummage through it until you find exactly what you're looking for. You pull out a small unicorn trinket and set it on the desk next to her. "Don't be like JJ. Be like you. She's pretty great."

"How often do I tell you I love you?"

"Every day through your actions. Now, can I help with the locksmiths?"

"You just did. I know what to do."

You smile and leave her to do her thing. You spot Spencer by the coffee machine and decide to get this over with now so that there's no more confusion between you two.

"Spencer?" He tenses slightly when he hears your voice but you're not going to let him off that easily. "Look, I don't want to make you uncomfortable here. I know this whole marriage thing freaked you out so just forget it happened, okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. How about this? We take things at our pace and when we both get there, we will talk about the next steps after that."

"Okay, deal," he smiles, relief flooding his body.

Penelope rushes out wearing something completely different than before. She is looking more like herself. She has her hair up high in two pigtails, purple makeup is on her eyelids, and she is dressed in a purple fun dress with a white fluffy coat.

"I got it! The unsub. His name is James Thomas. He did work at all the gyms the husbands went to. Is that not enough information? Oh, I have so much more. Last year he suffered from a condition called prostatic hyperplasia. The routine surgery took a wrong turn, snip snip, they had to remove the whole prostate tamale. Boss says he didn't show up for work today, but this is his home address."

She hands over the paper to Hotch.

"Garcia, you should have let me know before you contacted his employer. Otherwise, well done. We need a SWAT team at this address."

"I'm on it."

"Now that's how you do it Penelope style," you grin and wink at her.

The team immediately goes to James' apartment with the SWAT team. You knock once to let whoever is inside know that you're here before Derek kicks the door down.

"FBI! We're coming in!"

You rush inside with your gun in front of you and the SWAT team spreads out to start clearing some of the rooms. There is a woman kneeling on the ground in the kitchen as she looks for something in the bottom cabinets, and Hotch points his gun at her.

"Show me your hands." She puts her hands up. "Who are you?"

"Maryann Thomas."

She is kneeling on the ground with her back to you but you can clearly see the yellow wisps of energy dancing around her stomach. She's pregnant.

"James Thomas' wife? Where's your husband?"

"I don't know! He left for work this morning."

"There's a gun locker in the closet. It's empty," one of the SWAT members says.

"Get up. You're gonna help us find him."

Maryann slowly stands up and turns, showing off her very pregnant belly. If James got a procedure done, how is she pregnant? The baby isn't his and you have a feeling he knows about it.

"Please, tell me what this is about."

You bring her to the kitchen table and lay out some crime scene photos to show her just what her husband is capable of.

"This is who your husband has killed so far. Do you recognize the last crime scene? That's Amy Sanders' house where you and James used to swing."

"James is not a... He wouldn't do that."

"He would, Maryann. He would because he knows he's not the father of your baby."

"That's not true. James is the father."

She isn't going to budge about this so you don't push her on the subject right now. You leave her side and walk over to Hotch who is hanging out in the hallway so he can talk privately away from Maryann.

"She's not going to give him up. She's the wife of an alpha male. She depends on him psychologically."

"Is there any chance that the unsub is the father?" Emily asks.

"Garcia said the prostate surgery was over a year ago, and there's no record of insemination."

"How do we get her to admit it?"

"We need to ground her back into reality and give her something to hold on to for truth. Did you get those files we asked for, the unsolved murders?" Hotch asks.

"Yeah. I can have them here in five minutes."

"Good. If the unsub did kill someone in those files, it's most likely the father of her child. If it's an old swinging partner, he'd be easy to track down," you say.

"That's risky. If we show her the files and he's not in there, we could lose her for good."

"Hotch, let me talk to her. Let me try to get through to her. If the father of her child is in those files, it could get her to talk. That baby is the only thing she would prioritize over her husband. I know I can do it," you say.

"How?"

"Take away the fact that I'm a woman. Right now, two alpha males are in there attacking her marriage. She'll react the same way to anyone challenging her husband's dominance. I'm not a threat. I think she'll listen to me."

"Okay, I trust you."

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[peachymilkandcream]

Fraud | Part 19 (Finale) | Yandere All Might x Hero!Reader

(A/N: The end is here! I hope you guys enjoyed this series and are excited for the next one to follow!)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, graphic depictions of violence, mind breaking, misogyny, power imbalance, age difference, cheating, forced orgasm, suicide, etc.

================================================

Shade looked at her abuser in terror, he had found them and so quickly. How this man managed to always be one step ahead she didn't know. Why did misfortune like this fall on her? What had she done to deserve this fate?

Hawks sprang into action, shielding Shade as a blast from the Number One shook the ground they stood on.

All Might wasn't playing, usually in his fights he'd fire off a warning shot, but this time he aimed to kill Hawks. An unhinged look in his eye showed the level of desperation he had to ensure Shade and his secrets stayed with him.

"You're a real fool Shade, you know that? Going against me of all people and thinking that you'd make it out. Did you think I'd just let you go? That this would all end? It will never end! I won't let it! All of this goes down with me and me alone! I refuse to let you and that bird ruin everything I've worked so hard for!"

"Get down!" Hawks pushes her out of the way as another burst of win barrels towards them, shattering the windows behind them and leaving a gaping hole in the framework. "Listen All Might, you don't have to do this, you're the Symbol of Peace! Just let her go and we'll both forget that any of this ever happened!"

He scoffs and walks closer. "Do you really expect me to believe that? Think that you'll just act as if you didn't see anything? I've been around longer than both of you combined. I know the cutthroat practices of pros. You'll sell me out for a moment of fame. Pushing your numbers by tearing down everything I've created with my own two hands!"

As All Might slams down his fist, Hawks tries to block with his feathers hardened into swords. But the force blows him back against the far wall, knocking the wind of out of him.

"Now for you." He turns his full focus on Shade, cowering and desperately trying to use her quirk. But the pure exhaustion from what she had endure for the past months taking all of her strength.

"I looked up to you All Might- trusted you-! After everything that happened- I thought you cared!"

"You really did think that didn't you. Do you ever wonder why your life spiraled down after you met me? I put all of that in motion, making you crawl and depend on me. That girl who fucked your boyfriend, I paid her to do it by bouncing her on my cock. Whenever you're being a bitch who do you think I run to?"

The color drained from her face. "You bastard-"

"Is that really the most horrifying thing you know that I've done? There is much worse, I promise you that."

In a moment of rage her fist flies towards him, only to be caught and twisted at a horrific angle. The scream making her cry out in pain.

"Don't even try it. You're so pathetic it sickens me."

Just then All Might turns and grabs the approaching Hawks by the face, slamming him into the concrete floor. "Still up and kicking I see. You young pros really are something! Did you really think you could win against me?"

"No-" Hawks sputters. "But I had to try. I couldn't just allow trash like you parading around as a hero to prey on the weak and innocent because no one has the balls to come after you. I may have dirt in my past, but I'm still a hero-"

"What a touching sentiment. And good to see you'll follow it to the end. You'll die believing those convictions while the rest of us do what we have to do to stay on top." His fist winds up, aimed directly at the Number Three's face. "It's a shame really, a bright future, cut short because of a stupid mistake."

As the fist falls, it's no more than a regular punch, seemingly to everyone's surprise.

"What's going on here-"

"I erased your quirk All Might. It seems all that flash and flare never taught you how to beware of your surroundings. Especially when some of the best pros and at least forty police officers in riot gear are outside ready to escort you away."

They all turn their heads to see Eraserhead standing on his perch, hair up and staring directly at the Symbol of Peace.

"You can't do this to me- I earned my place-"

"Save it. Your sidekick, the one who can see the future, realized you'd fail after looking into yours and surrendered. So far he's cooperated with police about everything you've ever done for a lighter sentence. Face it. It's over."

"No! I won't go down like this!"

All Might rushes Aizawa, only to be bound by the pro Kamui Woods, trapped in a binding of wood. "Don't struggle. It'll only make things worse."

However he does, only stopping when the heat from Hellflame threatens to singe off his eyebrows. "It seems like your cutthroat practices finally caught up with you old man. What a better way to take my top spot than with you outed as a villain yourself."

All Might looks like he's ready for more of a fight, but eventually resigns himself to being arrested by completely surrendering.

"Very well. May justice prevail."

================================================

The trial came and went. Unanimously with the testimonies provided by Nighteye, Hawks, and Shade, the jury found the Number One hero guilty of murder, rape, kidnapping, fraud, and many more crimes. Each of the victims he had accumulated over the years exposed for all the world to see.

His support dropped to nothing. No one except the most degenerate fans dared publicly show support of a convicted felon like him. And those who did were shut down and told to retreat back into their mother's basements.

Held in Tartarus, All Might was sentenced to spend the rest of his natural life there without the possibility of ever being freed. Whereas Shade was relocated to a secure location with a name change and constant protective surveillance. Meaning Hawks.

The two had bonded over past traumas, spending a lot of time together relieving and working through what they had went through. Who knows? Maybe it would lead to something more in time. Not until she was healed, but eventually.

She thought this while he made her tea in the kitchen of her new apartment, far away from the watchful eyes of the city. The news was on television, basic things like fires and crime in the big cities.

Until a special broadcast came up.

"We interrupt this program for an important news update. Just last night an escape from Tartarus occurred, authorities haven't released just how the escape happened but they have released a list of prisoners who have escaped."

Hearing the news, Hawks steps into the living room, watching for himself.

"Only one prisoner escaped, Toshinori Yagi, better known as our former Number One hero All Might-"

The broadcast continued but Shade couldn't hear what else was said, focused on the reality that he was out, freed. And coming for her. She had to get out, had to run away.

He was coming for her.

The End

Taglist:

@toomuchdabi

@i-love-mommy-wanda

[markantonys]

I've never read the books but I've watched the show as soon as it came out and in s2 I really loved Elayne and I ended up shipping her with Rand after just one look. I know what happens in the books more or less so my question is do you think we'll have some deep interactions this season? (I think it will just be in ep one right?)

I can't wait to see them fall in love with each other and I wonder when that will happen in the show...

first of all, congratulations on having impeccable taste and correct takes haha a testament to the power of the randlayne meetcute!

in the trailer we saw a brief glimpse of elayne giving rand a pep talk about leadership, and in the books around this time there's similar stuff with elayne helping teach him about leadership and politics (though a lot of this is offscreen in the book version). and i think it looks like it's just the two of them talking in that moment, so i bet we'll get at least one good one-on-one conversation between them in 3x01 (how long it will be, i don't know, might only be a minute, but the show tends to be really good at packing solid emotional connection into even brief interactions, so i think it will feel like a meaningful interaction regardless of length!)

i would love if they get to speak again in 3x02, but i don't know! based on the episode blurbs with 3x02 saying rand and egwene are forging a new path, it sounds like this is the episode when the waste-bound travel party heads out (whereas elayne is remaining in tar valon), but i can't guess yet whether they'll head out straightaway in 3x02 or whether they'll linger in tar valon a while longer and head out later in the episode. although we do know elayne's family will be coming to town in 3x02, so elayne might be too busy with all that to have any more scenes with rand.

since it sounds like rand's emotional plate is pretty full this season with randfear and randgwene, and since he and elayne will be on separate trips for probably the rest of the season, i doubt we'll get any concrete romantic interactions for randlayne in s3. when might we start getting those interactions? that's anyone's guess! i have high hopes for s4, but i just don't know. in the books, it's quite a bit longer than that before they next see each other, but the show has proven that it's willing to move characters to a different geographic location than they were at the corresponding point in the books if they think doing so can help them tell the story more effectively (ex: mat goes to the aiel waste with rand & co in the books, but in the show he will instead be joining nynaeve and elayne's roadtrip because rafe felt there was more space for mat to have a story arc specific to him in that roadtrip than in the waste roadtrip where mat would be playing 5th fiddle to rand, moiraine, lan, and egwene). so, i can definitely imagine ways they could adjust elayne's future story to transport her into rand's location for s4 instead of her book location and let her spend solid time with him, and i hope this is the route they go, but only time will tell!