#i learn through trail and error. and i need to see for myself that these characters won’t always work

[thief-of-eggs]

There’s something about doomed romances that’s so special and dear to me. The ones that clearly won’t work, or are clearly set up for failure down the road. The one’s where even the depths of their love can’t save them, because the world has set them up to fall. There’s something about those ships in particular that I go absolutely feral for.

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART ONE

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, death (minor characters), bits of gore, 141 are mean pirates, kidnapping

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

The village was tranquil as you stepped through it, bare feet threading through the soft grass, hands wrapped around the handle of a woven basket. It was peaceful, as it always was, without the souls of townsfolk to burden you. They didn’t dare bother you with the witness of elders around, keeping any torment to themselves until nightfall when the small vendor shops had closed up for the evening and the old folk returned to their homes.

You basked in the warm summer rays that shined down on you as you walked past the various shops. Really, they were far from any real shops, only showcasing simple merchant carts with limited supply for the village to gather, but it was a small village, and everything you needed was for mere survival. You weren’t a greedy woman, and you were plenty grateful.

Stepping up to one of the merchants, you offered a polite smile to the older woman sitting behind it, bowing your head in greeting.

“Hello, Mary,” you addressed, and she perked up from where she stood, occupied with counting together the sum of coins she’d earned throughout the day. She reflected her own smile to you, standing a bit taller. A wrinkled hand lifted to brush strands of her gray hair that had blown astray in the light breeze, revealing her radiance.

“Afternoon, dove,” she greeted in return. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Just need a few more herbs, is all,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away from hers to pick around her cart. Mary always had plenty on hand, and usually snuck you a few extras when you weren’t looking.

“Ah, I see. Well, you know the routine, dove. Feel free to pick as many as you need,” she encouraged. You smiled graciously, collecting a small variety of herbs and plants to place in your basket.

It was a different decision every week, seeing as you often performed trial and error with them in the comfort of your home. Despite many in your village disagreeing with your efforts, you were attempting to learn more about medicines. The village was in desperate need of a proper healer, and a female one at that. The male in current practice was much too biased and reckless, though you were sure to get a mouthful if you were to express the concern.

So, you took it upon yourself. Living in the village rather than out on the mainland, it wasn’t a simple teaching. Resources and education were much more difficult to come by, and it wasn’t deemed necessary information for women to have. It was exactly the reason why you were seen as a bit of an enigmatic outcast to all – all except Mary, of course. Perhaps she simply pitied you.

“This will be all for me, Mary,” you declared, setting the basket on top of her cart. Reaching for the small pouch that rested comfortably on your hip, you dug through it, collecting a few bronze coins and setting them in the old woman’s frail hand.

Mary accepted, placing the coins in her own pouch and throwing you a kind smile. “You sure, dove? Nothing else I can do for you?”

“I’m sure,” you confirmed with a nod. “Still in the experimentation phase, I fear.”

“You’ll get there,” she assured, clasping one of your hands between both of hers and giving it an encouraging shake before releasing. “Perhaps I’ll come visit you one of these days. An old lady like myself could use a few tweaks.”

This elicited a light laugh from you, shaking your head as you grasped the basket. “You look as healthy as a babe, Mary. But yes, please do. You know my door is always open for you.”

The two of you said your sweet farewells before you set off down the grassy trail once again. You passed the other merchants, who didn’t welcome you with the same kindness Mary had, but didn’t scare you away with shrewdness either. It was a typical routine, at this point, for others to look down on you. A woman, unwilling to marry and bear children and instead, studying medicine. A true scandal, some might say.

The walk back to your home was done so without issue, but when your humble abode came into sight, tucked away on the farther side of the village for more private practice, the faces of recognizable men came into view. This was just as frequent as the judgeful side eyes you received, but much more inconvenient.

“Afternoon, dove,” one of the men greeted with a slimy smile, the nickname the village had given you slipping off of his tongue like rotted poison. Dove, a name of something so beautiful, given out of mere pettiness. You were free like a bird, yet you should’ve been confined to your cage. Something pretty to look at, but proving no use. “Never quite got back to me about my courtship.”

Right. You had ignored it on purpose. Though deemed as strange and grotesque by the townspeople, this particular man hadn’t quite gotten the hint. Lucius was his name, fitting, seeing as he was as close to the devil as they came. Conceited and boastful with no decency of leaving you be.

He was awfully determined in wanting to fix you, to make you the housewife everybody expected you to be, just like the other village women. It was common practice, seeing as women didn’t do much other than simply that. While some were quite content with that lifestyle, you sought out more. You didn’t want to be chained down to a simple man who had nothing but arrogance to offer, nor a man you weren’t in love with.

“Yes, that’s quite right,” you confirmed dryly, stepping up to your home. He blocked the doorway, barricading you from entering.

“It’s quite rude for a lady to reject,” he interjected, a devilish smile plastered on his face. You blinked up at him with a look of indifference. “I am only asking for an answer.”

“I believe I’ve told you no plenty of times,” you sighed, adjusting the basket on your hip. “I am simply not interested.”

He sucked his teeth together, glowering down at you from where he stood. It was clear he wasn’t pleased with the answer, but unfortunately for him, it was all he was going to get. You were solid with your decision, and god forbid you did change your mind on being a wife and mother, it would not be with him.

“Can’t change your mind at all, dove?” he asked in fake sweetness, reaching for your hand that wasn’t holding the basket. He took it in his grip, much too tight for your liking. “Perhaps I can help change it if you give me one night.”

You scowled at his underlying tone, pulling your hand from his grasp and resting it on the knob of your door. You pushed it open, stepping inside before turning to him. “Please do not humor me with such indications. I am not interested, nor will I change my mind.”

Abruptly closing the door on him, you settled inside of your home, breathing a low sigh of relief. You could hear his faint chuckles with the other men present, their footsteps soft against the grass as they took their leave. He never took things too far, such as forcing his way into your home or worse, forcing himself on you, but you feared that day may come the longer you rejected his advances.

You set your basket on your desk, slouching down in the old chair you’d spend days upon days occupied in. Your journal sat open with ink scattered on the pages in your scribbled handwriting, brief sketches drawn about of the varying herbs you worked tirelessly on. Above you, jars lined the shelves with fading labels, filled with makeshift medicines of all kinds.

With the village and its people now out of sight and out of mind, you resumed your studies with the fresh herbs, focusing on what your heart truly desired.

You don’t remember falling asleep. It had been hours of you with a pen in your hand, jotting down useful notes for your studies, and it was no surprise you had succumbed to exhaustion at the comfort of your desk. Your cot in the corner of the room was more a stranger than anything, but with the sight of moonlight still pouring in through your small windows, you debated on moving over to it so you could resume.

Standing from your desk, you rubbed the sleepiness crusting over your eyes, a yawn threatening to tug through your throat. Just as you began your short trek to your bed, a slight tinge of orange caught your eye, peeking in through your window. It was faint, barely knowledgeable.

Curiosity got the best of you, and through your hazy state, you tugged open the front door of your small cottage, daring to see what was outside. The orange grew brighter in view now that the door opening had allowed more light to pool in, and when you rubbed at your eyes once more, you recognized it as fire.

Fire, burning fiercely in the night, eating away at your village. The sounds of terrified screams and chaotic madness became abundantly clear when you stepped outside. It made your blood run cold. All hairs on your body stood straight in warning, beckoning you to return inside, to hide.

As much as you wanted to listen, the first thing to vacate your mind was Mary. In the brush of flames, you needed to know if she was alright, if she had gotten to safety before the angry fire had broken into her own home. Where most of the townsfolk treated you as a mere joke, Mary was the one who had given you kindness when needed.

Your feet moved in a rush to sprint towards the village, the grass damp from the midnight dew and sticking to your soles. The closer you came towards the heart of the village, the louder things grew. It was blood-curling, hearing booming voices bark various orders while others shouted in petrified fear. Mary’s house was on the other side of the village, and in an act of triumph, you aimed for it.

The heat of the flames became more apparent as you closed in on the town center. Townsfolk that you had grown with since a baby were in a frenzy, some bloodied, some weeping. They looked like they had gone through the pits of hell and crawled their way out, only to be inches away from being dragged back in again.

There was no explanation for why the men of your village were wearing the crimson color of fresh blood, or why some were laying in broken heaps on the ground. They were in agony, shrieking in deafening decibels. The healer in you wanted to stop everything you were doing to aid them, but the child in you wanted to reach Mary first.

You did what your heart wanted and ran for Mary.

Approaching her house, the flames had not yet approached. It wasn’t burned to ash, nor was it in shambles. Instead, one large man had Mary in their hold by each of her arms as she attempted to fight him off while another ransacked her home.

“Mary!” you shouted, helpless. The man’s head whipped in the direction of your voice, cruel eyes narrowing in on you. Mary joined him, fearful eyes catching yours.

The sight of the men was foreign to you, but you’d recognize heartless monsters such as them anywhere. They were mere stories shared between the village, often used to scare the children away from the sea for their own protection. The village was so small, nobody had ever worried about the stories happening to them.

Pirates. Cruel, greedy, malicious. Like dogs off a leash, bearing sharp teeth and frothing at the mouth. They raided innocent villages for their supply, leaving it in disarray once they got what they wanted. Sick bastards who deserved punishment, yet slipped away in the roaring waves of the sea before it could be handed to them.

“Let go of her,” you pleaded with the pirate, hands clasped together. You knew you couldn’t fight him off, even if you tried. Mary was just as powerless as you, and old age was starting to catch up to her. She was fragile, and with the way he was handling her, you feared she’d get harmed.

The mysterious pirate continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression. He grunted in annoyance, loosening his grip on Mary but not quite releasing. It did nothing to comfort you, and that feeling grew tenfold when the other pirate stepped out of Mary’s home, locking in on you.

“Grab tha’ one, will ye, Gaz?” the one holding Mary huffed, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. The other, Gaz, nodded in return, sauntering up to you like death on wheels. You needed to run, to escape, but he was too quick. Before you knew it, Gaz’s arms had wrapped around your waist, hauling you over his shoulder like a doll.

Flailing in his embrace did nothing. His grip was firm, arm locked on to you impossibly tight, and the punches you threw to his back seemed almost comical to him.

“Find anythin’?” the other asked Gaz. Gaz shook his head, releasing a frustrated exhale.

As chaos ensued around you, the two men began dragging you and Mary along towards the heart of the village where you were moments ago. Gaz’s grip loosened on you, before he dropped you to the damp ground carelessly. You landed with a huff, soreness soaring through your back.

Looking around, you realized that many of the townsfolk were in the same condition. Lined up besides one another, pleading for their lives, weeping with ugly snot running from their noses. Mary was beside you, shaken but unharmed from the looks of it. She stared at you with heart wrenching fright, and you wished you could’ve told her things would be okay.

But they weren’t. The village was set ablaze, its people lined up like prisoners with a group of pirates looming over them like reapers prepared for death. The peace from this afternoon had vanished, and there would be no return. Things would be forever different, if they spared your lives.

Gaz and the other pirate stood side by side as they looked over the townsfolk. Another was beside them, face distorted by a ghastly mask that resembled a skull. It sent shivers down your spine. It was as if you truly were looking death in the eye.

A fourth pirate stepped forward, eyes that should’ve been considered kind instead staring down every last villager with heated observation. He was silent as he paced slowly, hands behind his back, the fire casting a doomful glow upon his face.

“My name is Captain Price,” he introduced. His voice was booming with authority. “If you do not wish to aid us, then we do not wish to aid you. The choice is yours.”

Sweat beaded your hairline from both the flames of fire scorching around you, and the anxiety that spiked inside of you. Your eyes locked in on the Captain, watching his every movement, noting the way he stood tall and proud, showcasing the true power he held. The villagers and you were helpless against him and his crew, and he was ensuring that it was obvious.

“We seek a medic. If you cannot provide that to us, then you are of no use to me,” he explained, pausing his pacing. He took in the sight of every grim face. Once he landed on you, you shivered, looking away in a panic. “I will ask you once. Who is your medic?”

Deafening silence filled the air apart from the flickering flames that threatened to consume us whole. Nobody dared to speak a word, nor did they look away from Price. It was as if time had stopped and everybody froze.

Price sniffed, glancing around the villagers. Though he seemed collected in his behavior, you could recognize the impatience from the way his lip twitched and his shoulders tensed.

“The Captain asked you lot a question,” Gaz sneered in defense. Price spared him a glance before returning focus. Still, nobody spoke for the next few moments.

It wasn’t until Price’s hand drifted to his waist, hand coming to rest on a handgun that the air shifted into one of unease. The sight of it made you sick to the stomach. Handguns were a specialty only the wealthy or military could acquire. They were rare and expensive, a luxury to some, but deadly. One click, and your soul was taken right from your body.

Price grasped the handgun, holding it in his hand as if it were a toy. He stepped up to the line of villagers, peering down at them like useless pigs. The sight of the gun had women quivering in fear, tears streaming down their rosy cheeks. The men were men no more, stripped away of their masculinity and replaced with little boys, unable to protect their kin and fulfill their duty as defenders.

The gun was raised, threat building with every inch. The barrel pointed right at the horror-stricken face of the very man who intruded on your home earlier – Lucius. Gone was the cocky mockery of a man, replaced with a whimpering boy who feared death just as much as another. He was shaking, shoulders slouched in attempts to appear small.

“We will try this again,” Price demanded. The cold barrel pressed to the temple of Lucius’ head and you could do nothing but sit and watch, unsure of what to feel. Sure, he kept a sour taste in your mouth simply from being. But to wish death on him for being a hindrance was distasteful. “Who is your medic?”

Lucius wouldn’t possibly rat you out. He was a selfish man who took what he wanted, but surely, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t that cruel.

The coward’s shaky hand lifted to point in your direction. It felt as if he were throwing a sharp dagger at you, the way he exposed the occupation you’d been so meticulously working hard towards.

Eyes shifted towards you, sending an ice cold burst through your veins. They were prodding, dissecting you from head to toe as if you were an experiment for them to test on. It was unsettling, sinking your heart down to the pits of your stomach.

“You’re the medic?” Price questioned. He hadn’t lowered his weapon, keeping it firm against Lucius’ skull, but his attention had shifted to you. His eyes weren’t warm and kind like they were shaped out to be, but rather cold, glossed over with hardened hostility.

“I–” You swallowed. “I am merely a medic in practice. I am not a professional, I do not know proper teachings–”

“Ghost,” he interrupted, whipping his head to look at the masked man. Ghost was a brute of a man, a shadow that would’ve been consumed by the night if not for the illuminating glow coming from the village in flames. “Take her so she can gather her things. She’s coming with us.”

Dread struck you right to the core. You wanted to beg for them to leave you be, to explain that you weren’t what they wanted. You didn’t want to be stripped from your home and tossed onto a ship with no clue of where your next destination was. These men were dangerous, seeping pure rancor and poisoning the very ground you laid on. Leaving with them was a death sentence.

Ghost said nothing, and even if he did, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it from the subtle weeping from villagers beside you. His strides were long as he approached you, and without warning, his rough hand grasped your elbow, hauling you to your feet. The force startled you, throwing you off balance but his grip was tight enough to keep you grounded.

As you were dragged away towards the direction of your home, you could hear an uproar of cries. Terror struck the village once more and you could do nothing but accept fate for what it was. You wanted to turn your head to see what was becoming of your people, but you were scared. Scared of what you may see, scared of what Ghost will do if you look.

You kept your gaze forward, legs moving quickly to match the heavy pace of Ghost, guiding the lion into your den.

Arriving at your home, you were hit with the realization that it would be the last time entering it. Your hard work would vanish, the space you made into your security blanket would be destroyed, burned to ash once the flames settled. It tore your heart to bits.

“Hurry up,” Ghost gruffed, his voice gravelly and hoarse. Just like Price, it was assertive, leaving no room for discussion.

You made haste to pack your essentials into a flimsy satchel. It wouldn’t be able to fit much, and you could only pray they would at least provide you with bare necessities on your voyage to hell. In your satchel went your journal, the cluttered jars of experimental medicines, your favorite quill, and a daring change of clothes. If Ghost thought you to remain alive long enough to have the opportunity to redress, he didn’t express it.

“That all?” he huffed, and when you nodded, he seized your arm again. “Let’s go.”

The sight of your home became a distant memory the farther you went from it. Already your body was pleading to go back, to curl up in bed and pretend that all of this was a sick dream. You regretted not making your cot of more use, sleeping in that damned wooden chair instead.

By the time you arrived back at the town center, it was like witnessing purgatory itself. Bloodshed with the bodies of your people laid across the ground like animals tossed aside. Useless and unworthy, that was how these pirates treated them. Though your people had never been kind to you, this was a fate you would never have wished upon them.

Their faces were unrecognizable as you took them in. Some burned, some beaten so bloody their faces had swelled into ugly monsters, some slain. The sight of the deceased made you want to vomit, bile piling in your throat and threatening to expel out.

Your eyes frantically searched for Mary, aching to know if they had given her mercy. She was a frail woman, withering with her age. She was innocent.

You couldn’t find her familiar face, and you weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or dreadful.

The three other pirates were standing around one another. They were unphased by the actions they had bestowed upon the village, as if it was another simple day. It unnerved you, rattling your bones with burrowing fear. When they noticed the return of you and their crewmate, they wasted no time in guiding you off to the small port in which their ship had been docked.

It was large, wood tainted with brown so dark it could’ve been black. It blended in with the abyss of the sea, which you realized was entirely the point. Unnoticed and concealed.

Ghost didn’t let go of you as he helped you on to the ship, nor did he release once your bare feet connected with the wood. It was just as restricting as before, causing a light pulse to form in your bicep where he held you.

“Take her to the chambers until we figure out the next step,” Price ordered Ghost, nodding his head in the direction of raggedy doors. You could only imagine what lies behind them, waiting for you.

Ghost grunted in response, tugging you with him and having you stumble on your own two feet. The wood was rough and sharp on your soles, slicing tiny splinters into your skin. Shoes weren’t needed in your village unless it was winter, and even then, the grass was always enough to consume them in warmth. Now, you were regretting not owning a pair.

“In you go,” Ghost uttered once he had the door pulled open, shoving you down a small flight of stairs towards the lower section of the ship. It was dingy and unlit, the only light seeping in being the moonlight from a tiny window.

Once inside, you recognized your new home as a cell. Barred and caged in, being tossed inside carelessly. There was nothing but a cot and a bucket to relieve yourself. It was completely empty and void of comfort.

Ghost shut the cell door, locking it with an annoyed grunt. You hadn’t even noticed him pull out the set of keys to open it for you, nor had you noticed when he locked you in. You watched as he thrusted the keys in his back pocket, the only evidence of its presence being the small glint of metal from the moon’s light.

“Wait!” you cried out when he turned to leave. You scrambled on the cell floor, hands wrapping around the cold bars. He paused his walk, throwing you a look of disinterest. “You can’t just leave me in here!”

Ghost snorted in what you dared to say amusement. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, princess. You’ll be of use soon enough.”

Ignoring your pleas, he stepped up the stairs and returned to the main deck, shutting the door and leaving you utterly alone. Silence filled the air apart from the calming waves of the sea, though it did nothing to soothe you. You were helpless, deprived of any form of escape.

You spent what felt like hours on the floor of your cell, weeping into your own hands, silently praying to a God to release you. When nobody came to your rescue, you knew it was far too late for a miracle. This would be your new life, your new home, for as long as they kept you alive.

Part of you wished they would’ve just killed you instead.

[imdeadinsidesiriuslydead]

~Cracked Mask~ pt.2

Jason Todd x fem!reader

pt. 2 to the this

Minors! Don’t! Read! This! You have been warned!

warnings: cursing (I mean it’s Jason Todd so), feelings, miscommunication, frustration. Also smut?!? Maybe?!? Read and find out 😏😘

a/n: I really didn’t expect people to like the part 1 cause I kinda rushed through the ending. But I don’t see any angsty Jason fics that show his more awkward side and thought I would just have to write it myself. So enjoy.

—-

When you got back to the manor and took a shower you cried.

You didn’t cry cause Jason regret it. I mean you regretted it too. You cried cause you embarrassed yourself in front of your teammate.

You cried cause you had to look Batman, Thee Batman, in the eye and say you failed. You’ve never felt more embarrassed.

You got out of the shower and we’re heading back to your room when Barbara came wheeling over to you.

You put on a fake smile and greeted her as normal.

“what’s up?” You ask.

“what’s up with me? What’s up with you? Ever since getting back from that mission you’ve seemed off.” She said in a kind voice.

“I’m just-“ you swallowed “embarrassed that I failed my first mission with Batman there.” You said quietly.

This wasn’t just patrol, this was a real life big mission and you fail cause you were hit with sex pollen, which you are still trying to wrap your head around on why Poison ivy used that on you.

Barbara gave you a sympathetic look. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. Poison Ivy is tough. I didn’t take her down my first few tries.” She smiled.

“Really?” You asked. You had grown up with a poster of batgirl on your wall. You idolized her. She was your hero. It’s hard to think she ever failed when all the girl power posters made her seem untouchable.

“Oh yea.” She laughed. “One time Riddler knocked me out my first time fighting him.” She laughed remembering the good ole days. “Can you believe it? Riddler. He’s so scrawny!”

you laughed along with her and as you settled down she gave you a look.

“The first few missions by yourself won’t be perfect. You have to learn how to hold your own in a fight without Batman being there for backup. No one said it would be easy. But you get better by trail and error. You have to get real world experience of fighting the criminals one on one to be able to stop them. You’ll get it next time” she smiled.

You smiled back at her as your mind drifted back to the mission. It was cut short cause of the pollen.

that stupid fucking pollen.

If you had landed correctly on your fall, you wouldn’t have been affected by the pollen. You wouldn’t have desperately asked Jason to make you cu-

“Y/N. Did anything else happen on this mission?” She asked softly. “Did Jason say anything or do anything that should concern me?”

“No!” You reply almost too quickly. “No, the mission was my fault. He didn’t do anything.”

“okay.” She replied. But as she watched you walk back to your room her gut told her something was wrong. She had to ask Jason, she could always read him and get him to fess up.

———

Barbara sawed out Jason in the Library. He usually came in here to read or hide from Dick. She found him sitting on the couch reading “Pride and prejudice”

“Jace, I have a bone to pick with you.” She stated sternly, wheeling towards Jason.

“Can it wait? I’m at my favorite part.” He says not looking up.

“No it cannot. And you have read that book a thousand times since freshman year.” She says as she moves herself to sit on the couch.

“Jeez. What’yd do to piss off Bruce this time.” He laughed. But as Babs stared him down he stopped laughing.

“I’m here to talk about Y/N.” She states matter of factly.

Jason’s face falls.

Barbara sighs. “I don’t know what happened on the mission, and I’m not asking for you to tell me.” Jason sighs in relief. “But that does not mean that I’m going to let Y/N torture herself with overthink every single detail of the mission. Whatever happened between you two, you need to talk it out. Y/N’s working herself up over whatever happened.”

Jason looked away from her and grimaced.

“Look. Jace, I know you hate talking about feelings and everything but, to work as a team you need to be able to communicate. Y/N just wants to feel apart of this team. But it will always be blocked if you don’t fix whatever happened.” Barbara never breaks eye contact, showing her seriousness.

“Fine.” He says annoyed. “I’ll go talk about my feelings and apologize.” He gets up and walks to the door.

“You got this Jason!” Barbara laughs as Jason flicks her off.

———

Y/N was sitting on her bed folding laundry when she heard a knock on her door.

“Come in!” Jason walks through the door and awkwardly stands by it. Y/N looks up from her neatly folded clothes to see the last person she wanted to see right now.

“Do you need something?” Y/N asked trying really hard to maintain eye contact and act as if it was a normal conversation.

“We need to talk.” Jason states looking anywhere but her face. “I know your upset that we failed-“ he nervously played with his fingers.

“We don’t need to.” You say turning back to your laundry.

“Yes, yes we do. I need to explain my-“ he explained nervously

“Nope. No. I get it. I was in pain. I asked a question and put you on the spot. It all happened fast after you sniffed the pollen too. It makes you impulsive in your decisions and your-“ you swallowed “your words. I don’t need to hold you accountable for what you said. I-“

“Oh,You mean when I said I wanted you under me since you got here?” Jason cut you off. He seemed to have gotten what you were implying. “Wait you’re upset because you think I lied?”he asked, his face turning almost smug. He had a new found confidence all of a sudden. You were taken aback by the switch.

you froze. You waited for it, for the rejection. You felt tears brim your eyes as you were about to be subject to embarrassment.

“You asked me to help you, how could I not.” You felt a tear start to slip. “I couldn’t say no when you were begging so pretty for me.”

You felt like the wind had got knocked out of your lungs.

“The pollen doesn’t make you lie. The pollen makes you horny to a point of pain. It didn’t make me forcibly dry hump you.” You blushed at the crudeness of his words.

you felt his presence behind you. “I don’t know. I thought you were hot before, but when you were laying there begging for me”

he leaned closer, you could feel his breath on your neck. “I got so hard. Your blushing cheeks and wide eyes, that tight suit of yours. I just couldn’t help myself.” He whispers in your ear.

You could feel your wetness pooling in your panties. You skin felt on fire as his lips gently caressed your neck. You subconsciously leaned back into him.

“I didn’t lie. I wanted you under me since the second you walked through the door.” You felt his hand caress the side of your waist as he spoke. “ and I won’t lie now, I want you under me again, if you’ll have me,” he spoke as he removed his lips from your neck.

You turned around to face him. He looked so perfect. His hair slightly messy with the white tuff hanging in his face, his pink cheeks and eyes clouded by lust.

“I thought I had forced your hand. I thought you regretted it.” You said in a breathless daze.

“I regret I didn’t do it properly. With an introduction, date, and a romantic gesture but there was no time for that when you were in pain.” He said.

you got a mischievous glint in your eye as you looked up at him. “Well if you could restart, how would you have done it?” You ask.

“Well i start it with the simplest thing. The truth.” He had a charming smile on his face, all lust removed. “I like you, would you want to go out with me?” He asked.

“yes.” You said with a giggle. “Then what?”

Y/N watched his face contort to something more sinister. “I’d take you home, after the first few dates, and turn on so music.” He said with his seductive charm.

You turned around and pressed your back to his chest. “Then what?” You asked teasingly.

“Then we start our slow. Kissing you first, letting my hands explore your body.” He whispered as his lips returned to your neck. His hands slowly caressing your sides.

You breathed in a gasp.

“Then I’d lay you down and play with you.” He said as one hand made its way down your pants and the other went up to your chest.

He left wet open mouth kisses on your neck has his right hand slid underneath your waistband. He massaged your core through your panties and let out a moan in you ear.

You whined as you felt him rub your clit through the fabric. You wiggled your hips against his crotch, feeling his boner press into your lower back. His big frame engulfed you as he moved his arms around you.

He started kneeling your breast in his hand as his other slipped into your underwear and slid through your folds.

He groaned in your ear “so wet for me.”

you moaned as you felt a single finger enter you, and slowly pull out before entering again.

You moved your hand behind you and grabbed his bulge. He moaned in your ear before he removed your hand.

“Not right now, this is about you.” He said as he spun you around to face him before leaning in and kissing you.

His kiss was soft, like before on the rooftop but now, filled with so much need. He moaned against you lips and pushed you on the bed, knocking over the neat pile of folded laundry. He pulled away and smiled nervously “Sorry. I’ll fix that later.” He said before quickly kissing you again.

He slotted his hips between you legs and you felt his hard dick press against your thigh. He pulled at the end of your shirt before pulling back and looking in your eyes.

“May I?” He asked.

“Please.” You said breathlessly.

He smirked and took you shirt off. He started kissing down your neck and chest before unhooking your bra.

He looked at your bare breasts and moaned before kissing and sucking down them.

You moaned as he took them in his mouth. And grabbed his hair, tugging. He groaned against you skin sending divers down your spine.

his kisses get lower and lower until he is right above your waistband. He pulls your pants down and returns his attention back your clit. Rubbing as he watches in awe.

He looks you in the eye before moving to mouth at your clit through your panties. You moan again and grab his hair causing him the groan. The vibrations going straight to your clit.

“Fuck Jason.” You breath as he slowly pulls you panties down before spreading your legs open.

“Such a pretty pussy all wet for me.” He said as he slides his fingers through your wet folds.

“Jason please.” You beg.

“Please what?” He teases.

“Please eat me out!” You ask while looking him in the eye.

His facade falls for a second. His wide eyes and blushing cheeks giving away his own nervousness before he smiles his charming smile again.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” He said before he leans down and immediately attaches his mouth to your clit.

He starts to eat you out like a starved man, and all you could do was moan. You gripped his hair occasionally tugging to feel him moan against your heat.

soon you were bucking your hips against his face begging him to go faster. He flicks his younger harder before replacing his younger with his fingers and rubbing your clit faster and harder.

the pressure almost made you cum in the spot but Jason had other plans.

He pulled away causing you to whine pathetically. He laughed before removing his shirt.

he quickly stripped to just his boxers

“Oh I was right. His did have rock hard abs.” You thought as you openly stared at his chest.

He had a scar that went down his abdomen and across his shoulder and chest. He was ripped and had a hard v line leading to his hard cock trapped in his boxer briefs.

“Jeez you’re hot.” You say before realizing what you said.

Jason blushed and laughed. “ I should be saying the same thing to you.” He smiled before leaning back over you.

His large frame and arms cages around your head and you ran you hands down his chest, feeling the ripples underneath your fingertips. You made eye contact as your hands landed on his dick, and squeezed.

He whimpered again. The whimper you remembered from the rooftop. The same whimper you have thought of we you had your hand down your pants last night.

He pulled his cock out and you stared in shock. He was so much bigger than you excepted. But you drooled at the thought of it inside you.

He rubbed the head against your heat, gathering wetness before positioning the top at your entrance.

“Are you sure?” He asked looking into your eyes with the most sincerity.

“Yes, Jason. Please I want you to fuck me.” You said as you slide you hand down to where your bodies meet. You start to play with your clit.

Jason sucks in a breath. “Fuck.” He breath before pushing in.

It hurt at first but Jason paused half way through to let you adjust.

Once he was all the way in, he slowly pulled out before pushing back in, starting a slow rhythm.

You moan and wrapped you arms around his middle, gripping on to whatever skin you fingers could find.

He started picking up pace and moved his head to suck on your nipple again. His hand that was t holding him up, falling down to where your bodies are joined, rubbing circles on your clit.

Everything was too much for you. “I’m gonna cum!” You moan as you squirted on his cock.

He moan at the sensation before ducking into you faster. “You look so gorgeous when you cum. Ohmyfuckinggod…” he said as he quickly pulls out and shoots his cum on your stomach.

He collapses on top of you and kisses you hard.

“Im sorry for making you feel like shit these past few days.” He says breathlessly.

“It all ok now” you say as he looks up and smiles at you. He hugs you and pulls you into his chest.

“I’m gonna take you on a proper date though.”

“I don’t doubt it.” You say as you eyes get heavy———

Bonus:

“For fuck sake Jason, when I said make up, I didn’t me make out. I didn’t have to hear the bed shaking all the way from down the hall!” Barbara yelled as Jason walked out of your room later.

——————/-

requests are open!

taglist:

@igotanidea

@princessbl0ss0m

[sleepyghost-x]

deer things for deer people!!

some things I do that help me feel myself :)

☆PLAY☆

Exercise is a must for me personally! Of course quadrobic are very popular but as a deerkin I heavily enjoy running [we can follow each other on Strava <3] Long walks and hikes in wooded areas are also very nice! Deer in my area live in riparian zones, and I will often take long slow walks by the water at dawn to try and catch a glimpse of them in the mornings. Make sure when doing any of these activities though to have enough water and food at the right times, and bring a friend if you struggle with exercise or mobility. A buddy can not only provide emotional support, but also safety or help in the case of an emergency. Please look out for yourselves !

Participating in martial arts or contact sports can also be helpful for younger bucks looking for a healthy way to get out that August-February aggression. Boxing gyms will usually offer a mix of weight training and sparring, both a great way to channel energy in a healthy way :)

☆SNACK☆

Adding some of the same foods to your diet that deer eat can be both validating and very good for you! As a generalization, most deer will eat a variety of shrub plants, fruits, and nuts or "true nuts." I am in the process of creating a recipe book, but here's a cheat sheet for now.

please note: Some of the foods deer eat are toxic to humans bodies! The most common are Beggars lice [and some other forbs] , Pokeweed, and Blackgum. Of course many deer also consume Fungi, which should always be verified before consumption. When eating anything always double check that you can confidently identify WHAT it is and WHERE it came from.

Not everyone's going to enjoy the salads that come at restaurants. That's okay!! One of my biggest turning points was finding out which plants/veggies I personally enjoyed and learning to make my own salads. This is dependent on personal taste, so its more a process of trial and error but don't be afraid to enjoy the things people tell you not to! Same goes for fruits and nuts. Making your own dried fruit or trail mix is also super fun and yummy when you cater it to your own tastes. You can also bring those last two on your hikes!

If you don't have access to these foods that's okay!! Even eating what you can outside can make one feel more in tune with themselves :)

If you don't have food stability period, please look into any government programs available to you. feeding your body is so so important. I've linked two from my area below that I know to be very helpful from friends testimony, but there are many others.

for one:

for those caring for fawns:

☆WATCH☆

As crepuscular creatures It's often very healing to be awake and outside for dusk and dawn. For years now I've enjoyed watching the sunrise, but the sunset is also very kind to our hearts. It's up to you. I'm fortunate enough to work the night shift and be up very early for practice so very often I get to see both.

If you have the tools to do so, I'd also recommend very early morning hikes as mentioned earlier. I like to start when it's still dark out, and time it so I reach a resting point as the sun comes up to watch. Night hikes are very enjoyable as well but make sure you bring everything you need, including one or more trusted companions able to help you if needed.

Getting in touch with your local species can make one feel more connected too. Go deer watching if you can! [no, looking in the mirror does not count] Take pictures, draw them, write about what you saw, or just sit back and enjoy the others.

☆DRESS☆

This ones pretty self explanatory. I wear mostly browns, black, and cream, sometimes graphic shirts with the woods or deer on them. I prefer very baggy and sturdy clothing for mobility and coverage when going out in the woods, but that's your choice. For those like me though, I'd recommend work wear. Much of it is in browns and its generally very durable. I get mine second hand, but if you're going somewhere really wooded and thick you might wanna get it newer and less worn in. Also! for those who like to hang out in the riperian zones [I'm looking at you mule deer] some hunting stores will sell water resistant pants and shoes!!

I prefer hard, chunky shoes reminiscent of hooves, usually my Cody James, but again wear what's most comfortable for you, and appropriate for your setting :) [closed toed for hiking, lightweight for swimming, etc...] For my fishhead people, you can also put a line down the front to make them more hoof like as pictured below. I do this to all my converse :P

Something silly but fun to try if you wear makeup and have a lighter skin tone is henna freckles, if you're darker white or cream freckles look really nice too :)

I have no wardrobe solution for the absence of antlers, but I have a shed antler from a white tail with a hole drilled in the base that I sometimes wear tied to a belt loop... sorry bucks.

TL;DR

go outside, eat your veggies, be deer, be safe, have fun <3

*While I personally do these things, they wont apply to everyone. Feel free to add to this or make my suggestions your own*

[ketavinsky]

Hello again Shrike :) I’m sorry for taking so long to respond, things have been a bit dark for me as well. Also apologies if I seem a bit off, I worry that I’ve changed irreparably in the last few months. I hope it’s not too weird to say I’ve missed our conversations. My ideal home has been delayed for a while but in my trial and error I’ve at least learned more about what I do and definitely don’t want to include in it I’m trying to look forward to the future to avoid feeling stuck. I hope you enjoy your time with your roommate’s cat, that sounds lovely. My cat has been enjoying extra attention from my roommate these days.

I appreciate the writing, as always. Knowing what you know now, would you have chosen to go to university with him if you could? Would you still choose to be part of him even if it hurt? I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately. Does completeness require self sacrifice? Would I stunt my own life if it meant I could join another, be part of them? I’m beginning to think differently about it than I did when we first started talking.

I feel you on the spiral. I feel like I’ve worn a path into my life that I can’t stray from. I’m stuck in an endless trail that was supposed to keep me safe but just keeps me separate. I watch everyone live their lives around me and they seem out of reach. I follow the same routine I always have, dragging myself further away from the rest of humanity until I feel inhuman myself. I feel like a machine at times, separated from emotion and life. I overanalyze emotion instead of properly feeling it. It’s a frequent source of lecture from those around me. If it’s any consolation you’re real to me, I enjoy talking to you. I think you understand the things I have trouble explaining.

I think now- I hope- that my friends didn’t see me as unfit, but rather they saw it in a more protective way? I have a hard time being protected in a way outside of my control. I’m trying to see it from their view and be less cynical but they move together as a unit, needless of communication, always completely in sync. It’s hard to look at sometimes, it’s everything I want. It gives me hope just as much as it feels alienating. They’re on an entirely separate plane and yet they choose to stop and wait for me to catch up. The eyes certainly hold a lot of difficult feelings. I stay hyperaware of people perceiving me and it makes my skin crawl. I have this irrational fear that if they look too long they’ll be able to tear the pieces of me apart and see that I’m wrong or incomplete or other. I hate the way my partner flinches when they see me crying; the way my friends glance at each other when I say something too open. I have a hard time imagining my concept of being understood. I’ve settled into a routine of only giving sections to people, the parts they’re interested in knowing. I can’t imagine being seen wholly, the light is only meant to hit me at certain angles.

I think ideally, I would be an organ. Something as essential to the body as it is to me. The lungs breathing and singing or the heart pumping blood through the entire body, seeing every hidden part kept separate from the rest of the world. I wouldn’t need anything to sustain me except the “host” for lack of a better word. I feel more akin to a parasite though, draining those I attach to until they cut me out or have nothing left to give. I’m not sure that’s as different from a heart as it seems initially. What would your ideal be?

I’m still struggling with the concept of leaving. Anyone, anything. Any place. Maybe now more than ever I don’t understand how to tear myself away from anything, parasite or not.

I understand the fixation with potential disaster. It seems almost comforting to be able to say I knew it was coming; like it’s somehow easier to bear loss when you expect it constantly. I find I sometimes even want things to go wrong just so I don’t have to face the possibility that things don’t have to be that way. Hope is a horrible clawing feeling in my throat, I’m still learning to make room for it. Do you ever find yourself feeling the same way? I worry my hands are stained with ink, everything I touch, certainly emotions included, feel as though something toxic seeps through my fingertips, lying in wait to rot it entirely.

I don’t want to end this too depressing so in better news, I’m 20 now, and I’ve recently been spending more time outside at night. There’s a lot near my house I like to skateboard when the stars are out. It’s enough to keep me going day by day. Hope you have bright things too - N

hello N! good to hear from you, for a while i thought something might have happened! that being said no worries about late responses i am also a late responder of course and also just kind of an all around 24/7 Harrowed and Fraught person. i hope by the time you read this response you're further along the path to finding a place where you feel totally and utterly safe and able to retreat within yourself and exit yourself at will

what kind of cat do you have? what does it look like? no pressure to reply, but in response to your question if i'd stunt my future to assimilate into another- i'm not sure. i actually turned twenty-four approximately three days ago- it's almost 2am here, so yeah, three days ago. this is relevant because it's honestly super fucking frightening. i never anticipated to make it this far- i never have, really, my life goals all seemed to terminate at 20- but because the idea of my 'life' and my 'future' are such distant and incomprehensible concepts i can't actually give you a completely honest answer even though i want to. at the same time, despite persistent feelings of loneliness and emptiness and desperately yearning for the ability to assimilate into another, i really value my individuality. it's taken me a while to acknowledge that how people see things really is nowhere near at all similar to how i see things- and i value my individuality now, i do. i was in thailand a couple of weeks ago and veered uncomfortably close to ego death on mushrooms (will discuss this in further messages if you're curious- the gist is, do not fuck with your dosages) and in that moment as my sense of individuality spiraled away from me down a drain somewhere i felt true panic and shock and fear. i... value how i think about things and i'd want to be able to retain this if i merged into another- maybe when i say i'd like to merge into another, i mean that we both merge into something (someone?) whose gestalt whole is beyond either of us. i'm not sure. i'll have to think about this one.

i understand your experience of living a sort of like, machined endlessly repetitive life, and i wish i could free you from it. it's an isolating way to live; it's an isolating way to feel. i mean isolating not in the 'you're shirking your social duties' sense but in the other way, where you drift so far from your humanity that you're left feeling like an assortment of matroshyka dolls, and the people on the outside stopped digging for you maybe five or six shells ago. i truly wish i could take this from you. i don't know anyone in my personal life who experiences this feeling, or who understands if i try to discuss it- they try, they do, but it doesn't stick for them, and so i continue to write and translate it into words. thank you for understanding!

it's interesting, isn't it, to be in a room of people that you love and you know love you, you know this, you know this, and still feel that they present a united front against you. i also struggle with the eyes, and my mind runs wild whenever i'm in a social situation with what they must be perceiving. i used to be really intent about controlling to the most minute detail how i was perceived- i've spent most of my life doing this, to the point that when i was a kid i didn't really have any sense of identity- now as an adult, as a twenty four year old (cursed) i think i have a greater sense of self but the more i understand about myself the less i understand about others. i hope you can have faith that your friends love you, in whatever way they can manage, and if that way only glimpses a facet of you, i'm sure you'll find those who can love you at more than a few angles. i'm sure you can. i'm sure you will. i'm sorry for the flinching and the averted glances. it really just sucks to feel like you have to dripfeed yourself to the people you really care about, and then witness the direct proof of it. i hope it's different soon.

you mentioned that your views on perfect union and letting go of your self have changed - do you mind detailing how they've changed? does your shifting perspective on perfect union inform the organs you'd rather be? and have you ever read or watched swarm? if you have netflix there's an episode based on the short story in the third season of love death robots. spoiler, of course, because it pertains to the answer, but the swarm is a hivemind reminiscent of an insect ecosystem and cells in a body, that when threatened by other species activates one singular organism as the 'intellect' of the hivemind. this 'brain' is scarcely ever utilised because intelligence is not a survival trait to the swarm, but whenever it is activated it contains generations of ancestral memory dating back billions. anyways, i'd like to be something like that. i enjoy ruminating, and making decisions, and i do enjoy my emotional pain and conundrums and anguish as well. even if i wasn't used often, i would be comforted knowing in that moment, i was perfectly useful, and trusted lovingly to perform my function. i'm not trying to imply i'm an especially intelligent person. i'd like to be, and i try to be. i think i had the potential to be that for a while, in a way that i could use to genuinely help other people, but the older i get the more i suspect that childhood trauma has fried me irreparably and the mental processes and perspectives that could have been construed as intellect now just kind of hamper me.

i miss being a kid. i miss feeling like i was good for the world. i can't believe i'm twenty-four and still suicidal and dissecting everything i say and do and feel and dissecting how i feel about that and dissecting how i feel about that, onwards and so forth and forever. do you ever feel like... i dunno. do you ever feel like you really just want to be useful? to have your own ecological niche? to be, decisively, looked at and given some place or function to belong to? maybe instead of being an organ, i secretly desire to be a machine. my roommate and i have been discussing that neuralink stuff recently and i find it quite delightful, really- i have full certainty that being terminally online on the forum wild west of the early internet when i was a little kid rewired some stuff in my brain, but i don't regret it, i love being surrounded by information even when it's overwhelming or distressing. i'm almost excited for the new wave of horrific issues, emotional and psychological, that will arise from virtual omniscience.

leaving is nightmarishly hard and i can never bring myself to be the person that leaves first. just like the romance book blueprint, i tend to push people away before they can get too close. is that relatable to you? 'I find I sometimes even want things to go wrong just so I don’t have to face the possibility that things don’t have to be that way.' yes, i understand. yes. i'm sorry it's this way for you. i find myself making up reasons and warnings of why i don't want things so i'll feel less disappointed when i somehow sabotage the object of desire. i've always felt like there was something wrong with me, something i was either born with or shaped into. some kind of genetic crisis at conception or some environmental circumstance. at my ripe old age i know that it's both due to certain family conflicts i was made privy to at the beginning of this year, and i've been talking it out with a couple of friends here and there and they're trying to encourage me to look past it and not let the circumstances of my birth or childhood define me and logically, logically i know where they're coming from, but it's different to feel it. i feel like a black hole, this entity of just wanting and pulling apart. no matter how much love or money or well wishing goes to me, it does nothing to salve the wound, whatever that is.

i am truly glad that you've made it to twenty. i remember being twenty! i think it's really fucking harrowing being in your early twenties and i hear being in your thirties is better? i'm really hoping it gets better. i wasn't supposed to make it this far. i hoped to be great, truly brilliant, some kind of poet extraordinaire or visionary, and then fizzle away before i ever got to twenty one. isn't it strange how things work out? when i was twenty i was so ready to die that the time i spent in the ER didn't phase me- while my friends panicked around me, i was comforted by the idea i could die truly and thoroughly loved by everyone around me. loved, without consequence or sharpness or anguish, a true novelty to me at the time. love made it okay that i would die young having accomplished nothing. i think now... love makes almost nothing okay. having been reminded of the love in my family and my love for them and theirs for me does nothing to soothe the memory of what things were like before i left my childhood home, and i dissect that, and the dissecting makes it worse, makes it harder to bear. the understanding, which was once so important to me, which is so important to me, does nothing to salve the injury. i think i was a kid once and i feel like a kid now and i wish i could go back to being a kid, lofty-headed, genuinely believing with my whole heart bright and unmarred that if i sought to understand, if i attained enough knowledge of the secret beauty and nuance of my surroundings, then i could do something good. i could be trusted to do something good. i could wake up, and pass through the people around me, and feel light in the heart. my mum's gotten sick recently and a bunch of my friends really resent each other now. i miss them all and i miss how i used to be, looking at them all, believing we didn't have to turn and hurt anymore if we understood.

i'm sorry for ending this on a negative note. recently i can't help but think that everything happens for the reason that it would be ironic for it to happen that way. i feel like i'm walking in circles into a mouth or a bear trap or some other kind of punishment that'll suspend me there as everything gets worse. maybe this is just what being in your mid twenties is like? please don't let me get you down. honestly, my early twenties were the best years of my life. i truly cried and sorrowed and i was truly, resplendently happy as well. my god, i was shocked by how good things could be, i had never been so happy. i hope that happens to you too, or you happen to it, whichever!

hope you're having a good skate. hope you are sleeping well!

[erodasfishtacos]

It’s Just Me (mini blurb)

if you enjoyed this fic - PLEASE reblog, rec, like, and come chat with me about the fic!

if you like my work and can donate as i do this for free - please consider donating to my ko-fi.

———————

It was a terrible twos kind of day. The kind of day when YN can’t tote Ivy along to a charity organization brunch because she would meltdown.

Harry had her in his office with him, she was sitting on a blanket Harry had laid out, and was quietly playing with her stuffed animals (mostly seals.)

Occasionally, she would babble to herself and get pissed of at her inatimate playmates, ending in her tossing it to the side.

He caught himself just staring at her, smiling as he watches the little human he and his soulmate created right in front of him.

When his phone rings, he automatically picks it up, professionally stating, “Styles.”

“Hi, this is Dan from Payroll,” The guys voice was already shaking and Harry knew he was about to get really pissed off.

“How can I help you?” He asks in a tone that’s was definitely did not sound like he wanted to provide any assistance.

There is a pregnant pause before Dan nearly stutters, “Er, I accidentally missed reviewing the marketing departments hours and they did not receive their last paycheck.”

Harry takes a very deep breathe because he wants to do what he normally would - scream through the phone at this idiot.

However, he can’t because his curly haired little baby is playing with her toys in the middle of the office with a smile.

“Please come up to my office,” Harry replies curtly before hanging up.

He gets up, goes over to his daughter, and squats in front of her, “Ivy, baby.”

She looks up at him with a toothy grin before reaching over to hand him a stuffed seal, “Play, daddy.”

Harry thumbs over a stray curl on her forehead, “Daddy can’t, my love. I need y’to go with Granny Dor for a little.”

Ivy had been very clinging to both YN and Harry recently. She had a fit when YN dropped her off, despite how happy she was to see her dad.

Her brows furrow, lips purse, and Harry has to laugh because she looks like a carbon copy of him with the sour face.

“Oh, no mean looks t’daddy,” He hums with his own frown, “S’just for a moment, m’dove.”

“No.”

“Ivy, y’need to listen.”

And Harry knows it coming, she sucks in a huge breathe and then just lets out a scream in protest of him.

“Ivy Elizabeth Styles, y’do not scream. Y’know better. Are we going to have to take a timeout or are you going to go sit nice with Dor?” Harry’s voice is still softer than he’d use with any of him employees but extremely firm to her.

“No timeout, daddy,” She mumbles, her volume decreasing significantly as she lowers her gaze from her father’s.

“Alright, then c’mon. Thank you for listening,” Harry praises, gathering up her toys for her and leading her into his waiting room where Dorothy is typing away on her computer.

“Dor, Dan is coming up and I need to have a private meaning. Will y’watch her for a little?”

Ivy is already clambering up into her lap, into the warmth of her arms, and nuzzling in - because Granny Dor spoiled her silly.

Harry rolls his eyes, muttering, “And you and YN say I spoil her too much. Bloody ridiculous.”

Dorothy just shoos him away, readjusting Ivy’s bow, and combing through her hair softly to simmer her down a little.

Dan trails in solemnly soon after to face his inevitable doom.

He sees his boss’ daughter perched on the secretary’s lap and he wonders how such a sweet little thing could be created from the demon of a man.

As Harry and Dan meet, Ivy gets wriggly and squirms off of Dorothy’s lap.

“Stay close,” She murmurs to the toddler as she picks up her phone to answer a call for Harry.

Of course, Ivy doesn’t listen, and she noticed that the door to her father’s office is cracked open just the littlest bit.

It’s enough for her to slip through the space between the heavy doors and toddles on, she’s blocked by the leather couches so Harry can’t see her.

“I have givin’ you so many fuckin’ chances!” Harry seethes angrily at his employee. His tone was more like a growl than anything else.

Ivy pauses, eyes widening in fear as she hears her dad speak in a frightening manner she’s never heard before.

“I…There was a coding error that I had been distracted with, it won’t happen again,” Dan insists, knowing he had actually committed a fireable offense.

“You are absolutely correct because you’re fucking fired,” Harry replies, no wavering in his raspy register.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Dan explodes, “It’s unfucking fair treatment! It was one mistake, you fuckin’ asshole!”

There’s a moment of silence.

“I can fuckin’ show you unfair treatment. Get the fuck out of my office and learn how to do your goddamn job,” Harry retorts, his voice rising as well.

Ivy is stuck in her spot, frozen in surprise at hearing the arguing and how mad her father sounded, voice echoing through the room.

“You listen to me-“

“Get the fuck out of my office!” Harry booms furiously, this employee managing to get a rise out of him.

“I was ju-“

Both the men pause when they hear a wail from behind the sofa and the sound of Ivy plopping herself on the ground.

Harry instantly is out from behind his desk and going to round the sofa in a flash with a rose of panic in his chest.

His heart drops when he sees his baby looking up at him with fear in her watery eyes and she’s literally shaking.

“Oh, baby. Did y’hear daddy bein’ loud?” Harry murmurs in his sweetest, comforting voice - uncaring of his employee hearing him.

Harry expects her to nod sadly and ask for a cuddle but she instead wriggles backwards when he goes to reach for her - out of his reach.

“Ivy, little dove, s’just y’daddy,” He tries again, sitting down in front of her - doesn’t even look up as Dan leaves quietly.

She’s scared though and has had never felt worse in his life as his daughter backs away from him until she’s getting to her wobbly feet.

He tries again, reaching his arms out, “Ivy Elizabeth, s’just daddy. M’sorry I scared you, bub.”

Ivy doesn’t budge, crying loudly with her face pinched up as hot tears run down her soft chubby cheeks.

Dorothy appears with a worried look, “I apologize, I thought she was by the table.”

“S’not your fault I’m a shitty father,” Harry mutters, standing back up and roughly brushing off his trousers.

“Oh Harry, she’s just a little frightened,” Dorothy hums, picking the girl up when she toddles quickly over to her.

Her dad trails over, “Ivy, m’love. Can you look at daddy?”

She refuses, digging her face into the woman’s shoulder, curls bouncing fiercely as she clings onto her.

Harry loved to be feared. Not like this though. Not by the child he’d literally jump in front of a train for without a second thought.

He would rather have her screaming, pitching fits, throwing toys rather than this. She was so scared that she wouldn’t even look at him.

“Let me take her on a little stroll, okay? See if I can calm her down a bit.”

—

Harry waits patiently for Dorothy to arrive back but he automatically hears his daughter’s steady stream of sniffles and whimpers.

He goes out to the waiting room to see her reentering the room, she sighs, “I think it’s time to call mummy.”

Harry had no idea how he was going to explain this to his wife. He was I trouble and he knew he deserved it.

“Hey H, is the bab okay?” YN greets warmly, chattering in the background.

“Er, she’s okay, just upset. Ivy accidentally walked in on me flipping out and firing an employee. Now she’s scared. Dor tried to calm her down and she doesn’t want to be near me right now.”

YN’s next words were calm, Harry however did not miss the sharp edge when she replies, “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Then she hangs up on him.

Which she really never does unless she is really really upset.

—

When YN arrives, Ivy is sat on Dorothy’s lap with puffy eyes and her thumb tucked between her full lips, popping it out when she sees her mother.

“Mumma!” Ivy shrieks, tears beginning streaming down her face as she impatiently waits for her to cross the room and gives her a soft kiss to the forehead.

“Hi baby, give mummy one minute and then we’ll leave okay?” YN murmurs soothingly, thumbing of some of the tears.

Ivy nods but is standing next the secretary’s desk, waiting patiently with her thumb going right back between her lips again.

Harry’s sitting at his large oak table, looking like a guilty puppy as his wife comes in with a disapproving look on her face.

“Baby, m’sorr-“

“What the fuck, Harry? Why is our daughter out there terrified right now?” YN demands, crossing her arms to prove her anger.

“Some fuckin’ idiot messed somethin’ up and Ivy walked in while I cursed him out and fired him. She was hiding behind the couch. It was an accident,” He defends, bristling a bit.

“Even if the door was shut, she would have still heard you. You knew better than to act like that around our daughter.”

“I had to fire him,” Harry makes the lame excuse because he knows he’s in the wrong and he’s not always great at admitting he is.

“You were supposed to have Ivy for two hours and this happens. I have her all day everyday and I’ve need had an issue with controlling myself in front of others!” YN yells (quietly) at him.

“What the fuck is tha’ supposed to mean? Y’calling me a bad father? Y’have her all day with her because I work so that you can stay at home with her.”

YN rolls her eyes, “Well thank god for that, she’d be cursing and screaming at people all day everyday if she was with you all the time.”

Harry is thoroughly pissed at his wife and she is equally just as furious with him - it doesn’t happen often but when it does it’s bad.

“Y’got some fuckin’ nerve. Our baby is polite, well-mannered because of me too! Not just you, fuckin’ claiming all her good qualities,” He replies with a snarl.

“Don’t talk to me that way,” YN bites back, “I’m not one of your employees. Neither is Ivy despite you talking like that in front of her.”

Now she was just trying to push his buttons and it was well onto it’s way of working.

“Y’bein’ fuckin’ ridiculous! It was a accident and you’re acting like I did it on purpose! Fuckin’ hell!” He raises his voice in frustration.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are raising your voice at me but I’m leaving,” YN tells him, giving him one final glare before storming out of the office.

“Fuck!” He grunts, smacking cup of pens from his desk before slamming his fist on the desk.

—

Ivy was waiting patiently, whimpering when she sees her mum, and gesturing to be picked up, “It’s past your nap time, Vee.”

“Nap,” She lisps sadly, instantly curling into then familiarness that is her mother. Eyes instantly fluttering shut.

“Thank you, Dor,” YN whispers, blowing her a kiss, before trekking out of the office with the exhausted little girl.

—

Harry can’t handle the rest of the day, wants to go home, and make amends with his wife which leads him to heading out only an hour after them.

He finds YN in the den with the baby monitor propped on the coffee table, she’s watching a horror movie with a smoothie in hand.

“Hi, m’heart,” Harry murmurs cautiously, loosening up his tie until it falls limp around his neck.

She glances over at him, sarcasm lacing her tone,“So you do know how to talk without yelling at me, hmm?”

His face falls, frowning, “Hey, lovie - don’t be like tha’. Y’gonna let me apologize?”

“Come scratch my back and I’ll hear you out,” She hums, keeping a serious face.

“Y’drive a hard bargain, m’heart. Show me y’tits,” Harry begins to smile, striding over and getting her no time before he’s pulling off her shirt and sports bra.

He sits down then gently lays her down on her tummy and she rests her head in his lap, cheek pressed against his thigh.

“I shouldn’t have done that, I wasn’t thinkin’. Now I’m worried she’s gonna hate me forever,” Harry mumbles, using his blunt nails to trace up and down her back.

“You’re her favorite person. She’ll always love you more than anything,” YN tells him seriously, arching when he scratches an extra itchy spot.

“I hope so. I love her more than anythin’. A little mixture of how much we love each other. How much we worked to get her,” He sighs softly.

—

YN dozed off and Harry tucks a blanket around her bare chest.

When the baby monitor alerts that Ivy had woke up after quite a long nap, he takes a deep breath before walking up the staircase to his fate.

He’s preparing himself for her to scream and cry when she sees her monster of a father because he’d scared her so horribly.

But his mini just widens her green eyes and he looks at his world with bated breath, waiting for the scream or tears.

Instead, she just dimples happily at her father, and squeals with excitement, “Daddy! Hi Daddy, miss you!”

And just like that….

They’re best friends again.

—-

Enjoy! Come talk to me!! 💕❣️💕❣️💕❣️

[atzsslut]

ateez as acts of service

warnings | nothing really??, gender neutral reader (maybe considerably fem pet names? depends on what you count as fem), non-idolverse

fluff | diff acts of service done by each member to you, really soft, mentions of university, lets pretend that yunho isn’t the only one who can drive okay

Kim Hongjoong — likes to help you read your essays and assignments out loud.

—୨୧ ⌒* He’s rather adamant about doing these things when he can because he insists that your uni overworks you (which it occasionally does). One thing that’s annoying about writing essays are that you need to proofread before submitting, so Hongjoong helps you by reading them out loud while you read it silently for any mistakes. And he somehow magically paces his reading at the same time as yours.

“I think I would be failing my classes for grammatical errors if it weren’t for you, Joong.”

“You know,” he trailed, “I will pat myself on the back for being a patient boyfriend.”

Park Seonghwa — likes to silently carry your things for you.

—୨୧ ⌒* Without even saying anything, he likes to wait until you come out of class (even if he doesn’t go to your uni) and greet you gently, before swiftly taking your laptop and bag. You’d protest, of course, but he would just continue the conversation to another topic and laugh a little with his sweet smile while you try to grab your laptop back.

“Hwa, it’s heavy! You must be tired already going all the way here..” you complain.

“… I feel like we should go to this new coffee shop I found—“ he would respond, completely disregarding your protests.

Jung Yunho — likes to straighten or fix your clothes when you don’t notice.

—୨୧ ⌒* Especially after sitting down for a while in the cinema, Yunho always stays seated to see if your shirt rode up, or your pants/skirt got wrinkled, or if your jacket was tucked weirdly. He would fix it for you and pat your hips when he was done, but even when getting up, he’d check your collar or sleeves to see if anything else needed fixing.

“Thank you, bubs.” you’d say, smiling up at your boyfriend from his affectionate gesture.

“Of course, darling.” he’d simply say back, kissing your forehead with his soft lips, thinly coated with your lip balm that he had borrowed just before.

Kang Yeosang — likes to remember your food and drink orders.

—୨୧ ⌒* Not only does he remember them, but sometimes when you’re at work, he’d like to send you your favorite morning beverage to wake you up. Or, if you were working overtime, he’d come with whatever you told him you were craving (or sometimes, maybe you tweeted out your cravings and he’d just order it) no matter how late it was. It would continue to amaze you that he remembered for different places you two often went to.

“I think you’re magic, Kang Yeosang.” you’d say, taking his hand in yours.

“Oh my god,” he’s dramatically gasp, “How’d you find out? Don’t tell anyone, Y/N.”

Choi San — likes to drive you even when you don’t ask him to or tell him it’s okay.

—୨୧ ⌒* To San, it wasn’t a hassle at all. And it wasn’t like he did it 24/7, because he had a life as well, but he did it as much as possible. Maybe wherever he was going passed by your campus/place of work, he’d gladly take you. If your friend couldn’t take you home after promising they would, he’s one call away. Sometimes you do feel bad, but he reassures you with a gentle pat on the thigh to comfort you.

“Sannie, it’s really okay!” you protested on the phone, “I know you don’t have work tomorrow, but I don’t want you to have to wake up at 7:00 AM just to take me there.”

“Well, if you keep interjecting instead of sleeping, then I won’t wake up in time.” he casually teased, no bothered tone in his voice. “Go to sleep, sweetie.”

Song Mingi — likes to cut and clean, borderline manicure, your nails for you.

—୨୧ ⌒* It’s a bit of a mystery. You don’t know if he learned it through YouTube, or maybe his mom or female cousins taught him, but he did them so well? Especially if you were too busy to take care of them, when you or he came over, he’d immediately kiss your hands and ask if he could take care of them. And while he’s trimming them, scrubbing them even, you two would talk about so many things like with any other convo.

“Wait, you know how to paint nails?” you asked, genuinely surprised when he suddenly mentioned wanting to do yours.

“I’m learning from Hongjoong. He makes really cool designs but has no idea how to prep his nails beforehand.” he faux teases, “At least I know how to!”

Jung Wooyoung — likes to immediately put your favorite shows on the Netflix list.

—୨୧ ⌒* Wooyoung has moments where he likes to act cold or cocky because it’s a part of his fun persona, but when he’s sweet, he does it subtly and almost denies it. You’d ask him if he put the show you were watching illegally on the Netflix list when it finally came out on there, and he’d shrug and say that maybe you forgot that you did it. But you know he did. It’s terribly obvious.

“Thank you, Wooyo.” the affectionate, rather cute, nickname passing your lips as you kissed his cheek on the couch.

“I didn’t do anything!” he’d say with pursed lips. But, he’d suddenly give a peck and say, “But, you’re welcome.”

Choi Jongho — likes to pack your things for you when you’re not awake or busy getting ready.

—୨୧ ⌒* Jongho liked sleeping over, or coming early to get ready with you or accompany you get ready even though your date would be in the afternoon/later in the day. When you were showering, or picking out your clothes, he’d ask you which bag you wanted to use or which items you would be bringing that day. By then, he memorized your needs.

“You.” you flirtatiously answered, in a playful tone, when your boyfriend asked what he needed to bring for your belongings.

“You’re cheesy.” he’d say while rolling his eyes. However, you didn’t miss his little nose twitch and small smile that appeared.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hello! I don't know if you're still doing asks, but I was wondering if you had any disabled Stiles fics? Blind, deaf, paralyzed etc? If not thats okay but if so thank you so much!

AND

Hey! I just finished reading Cornerstone and Windows on ao3 and I was wondering if you knew of any other blind fics? It doesn't have to be Stiles being blind. I'm just curious. Thank you! I get all my favorite fics from you!

Here you go, Stiles with a disability.

Windows by dr_girlfriend

(28/28 I 83,017 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek has a new neighbor who won't stop looking.

Excerpt:

“You’re blind,” Derek said flatly, the anger draining from him so suddenly he felt almost woozy. His vision cleared, his claws sliding back into blunt fingernails.

“Thanks for the memo, genius,” the kid said acidly. “I can still fucking defend myself, so don’t take another damn step.”

“Fuck, I...I’m sorry,” Derek stuttered.

“What?!” The kid’s brow crinkled. “I mean — what?! You’re fucking sorry!?” His lips thinned into a harsh line. “What, is this some kinda Hallmark movie where you’re discovering the error of your ways because you don’t want to rob a blind person?! That’s fucking condescending, man. I’ll have you know that —”

“Just, wait.” Derek interrupted what was apparently the start of a convincing argument as to why he should rob the kid after all, feeling his head start to spin. “This is — it’s a misunderstanding. I’m — I’m not robbing you. You’re — you’re safe, okay? I’m taking three steps back. Just — just let me explain.”

“Explain why you came busting into my apartment? Yeah, go right ahead, man, I can’t wait to hear this epic tale.”

Cornerstone by Vendelin

(6/6 I 83,738 I Explicit I Sterek)

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

***

Darkness Before Dawn by lanoirpapillon

(1/1 I 856 I Teen I Sterek)

"Due to the actions of the Alpha pack, Stiles goes blind. After the threat is gone, Stiles has to learn to live without his sight, and maybe Derek would make the perfect seeing-eye wolf."

Nothing is Over by CinnamonLily

(1/1 I 2,083 I General I Steter)

Stiles had the perfect life, until his mate died. Again. It's been nine months, and he's not doing well. In fact, he resents everyone else's happiness and has become a hermit on autopilot. Somehow, he's forgotten that Peter never stays dead.

I See You Better by theroguesgambit

(1/1 I 4,686 I Teen I Sterek)

He dreams, sometimes, of his last moments of seeing.

At the church in Mexico, Stiles is blinded by a Berserker. Derek uses his new wolf status to act as a guide dog, while Stiles adjusts to his new reality.

Clueless by HappyJuicyfruit

(1/1 I 4,748 I General I No Pairing)

After everything they’ve been through together, all Derek wants is for his pack to be connected with strong, thriving, pack bonds. And for the most part, its working. The pack is growing, healing, happy.

He just needs to figure out why Stiles hates him so much.

My reflection is not who I am but who I must hide by RainbowDuck

(1/1 I 5,235 I Not Rated I No Pairing)

The first 11 years of Stiles (no one will ever know my real name) Stilinski's life were more of less textbook. The next 3 were hell and if it could go wrong, it did. Stiles and her dad Noah move to Beacon Hills for a new start and it ends up being the worst and the best thing.

In Your Footsteps (I Will Walk) by cywscross

(1/1 I 8,873 I Teen I Steter)

It takes him months, but Stiles gave him a destination, gave him direction, gave him hope, and so he goes.

T: Tremors by brokenes

(1/1 I 9,477 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek tried not to think of hospitals and blood and hearts no longer beating and his legs, leaving it all behind, knowing that Stiles' no longer could. It took him seven years to stop leaving.

Wild Tonic by officerstilinskihale

(1/1 I 11,010 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles nodded and smiled again, his teeth flashing brightly and he signed something again, before looking frustrated with himself.

“You’re welcome,” Derek told him, feeling a wave of relief when Stiles’ face brightened. That would’ve been awkward if Stiles hadn’t been trying to say thank you.

“I had a really good time, so yeah. I’m glad you came with me,” he said, feeling his face grow hot. Derek wasn’t usually like this. He wasn’t confident. Sure, he had the looks and he could flirt shamelessly when he got hit on, but he always got shy around the people he genuinely liked, not that there was too many of those.

But Stiles didn’t let him dwell on that. He gripped Derek's arm, grinned cheekily and pointed at himself before lifting two fingers. It took a while for Derek to get it but when he did, he couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face.

Me too.

Show Your Teeth, Yellow With Desire by ItsMe_Basil

(1/1 I 22,883 I Explicit I Steter)

The man looked up when Stiles stepped into the room, eyes appraisingly taking Stiles in from head to toe before smirking.

"Hello, sweetheart."

Stiles felt his heart jump into his mouth, his breath hitching in his throat. The orderly hadn't stayed long, leaving the two of them alone.

"Peter." He breathed. "You're real."

where the Double Walker dwells by forestofbabel

(10/10 I 38,164 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek looked like he always did, perfectly groomed and a little gruff. Though, as Stiles glanced at him, Derek’s face was lax with surprise.

“Stiles?” Derek asked, sounding flummoxed.

“Dude, I know it’s been a while, but don’t be so surprised I’m hung over in the woods. It’s practically tradition at this point.”

Derek sniffed the air, eyeing him with distrust. “But, you can’t… I just…” he trailed it off like a question, taking a half step forward before pulling out his phone and dialing a number, eyes never leaving Stiles.

Complications by idareu2bme

(15/15 I 42,523 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek hadn’t meant to involve Stiles in all this --Stiles who was warm and pliable in his sleep, whose warm, brown eyes reflected light they would never again see, who had a smile brighter than the sun, and who could see Derek when others never did.

At least the Road to Hell is paved, I'm not good with Stairways by lady emebalia (emebalia)

(80/80 I 170,037 I Explicit I Sterek)

When Derek signs up on a BDSM dating site, he expects things to be straight forward. Turns out the road ahead has more unexpected turns than he thought. But at least Stiles comes well equipped for twists and turns.

Caretakers by em2mb

(14/15 I 277,924 I Teen I Sterek)

Now Lydia sees the white room clearly, Stiles sitting cross-legged on the nemeton in his lacrosse jersey, squinting at a chessboard.

That’s when Lydia realizes her vantage point makes her Stiles’ opponent — and she has him in check.

Her instinct is to push her own king into danger, but Stiles grabs her wrist. “Come on, Lydia,” he says dryly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Chess might not be your game, but surely you know that’s against the rules.”

Lydia tries to squirm away from him. “But you’ll die,” she insists, his grip tightening so much she’s certain his long fingers will leave bruises.

“Say it, Lydia,” Stiles urges. “Checkmate. Checkmate. Checkmate — ”

[nepentheansea]

The King’s Request part 2

© Skyebounded, do not use my work, but you may share it.

masterlist

premise: Eilish gets caught up in a situation that may or may not be too much to handle.

Warnings: Gore/Violence, talk of sexual assault. (I think that’s all but let me know)

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Hey loves, sorry this has taken so long, I’ve actually had it written for a while but I wasn’t liking how it flowed, but I fixed it. Anyway here you guys go, I hope you like it.

Chapter Two

No hesitation was to be had, as my grip tightened around the cold metal hilt of my dagger, which rested just below the furs I was resting my head-on. I slowly opened my eyes into the blinding darkness. Through trial and error, I had learned that often when being hunted or followed, it was best not to let whoever it was, know that you were aware of their presence. I kept my eyes low, and my movements minimal as I tried my best to scout my surroundings. It became apparent to me however that the only sense that was going to aid me the most in this endeavor was my keen sense of hearing. 

The sound of heavy steps in the snow, followed by the sounds of metal clashing, was all I had to go on. I could have been fooled into thinking that perhaps it was a stag or something inhuman, but the sounds of metal were an indication that it was people. 

I steadied my breath, keeping it low and even. The footsteps were coming from my right, or so I thought, but the stirring of my horse made me question it.  Something spooked her enough for her to rear up and bolt. Unease set through me, she had taken off with everything that I needed to survive including my sword. 

 A twig snapped near my head. I prayed to Freya that I could handle whatever I was up against. They were leaning over me, I closed my eyes slightly, just enough for me to see but also to look convincing, and waited. His hands came to grab me, and that’s when I acted. I rolled to my other side and brought my blade into the side of his calf, tearing it to shreds. Warm blood sprayed onto my face in the process. The man roared, toppling over as he gripped his leg. He wasn’t going to survive that, I made sure of it. I jumped up, quick to my feet, but I kept myself low in case an arrow or ax found its way tearing through the air. 

I didn’t have time to process, to survey my enemies before I felt a cool metal pressed against my throat. My single breath of surprise caused the slightest amount of blood to be drawn from my throat. I could feel it as it trailed down my skin. 

    “Move and I slit your throat.”  His breath was hot against my ear as he spoke. “Drop it.”

 I steadied my breath, trying to think of my next move, but the cries of the man I had just cut were too much. I didn’t even bother to risk turning my head to get a better look at the man who now had me pinned against him. I dropped my only weapon.

    “No..no..no.” 

The screams stopped and were replaced with the sound of flesh being torn into. The man I had attacked was dead. A surge of panic coursed through me, as several men came into view. Very large, very scary-looking Danes were making their way closer to us. I didn’t recognize any of them, not that I had really been given the chance to go out and come face to face with men such as these. Part of me was slightly thankful for it. 

I was not able to count all of them, but there were enough of them that I knew I couldn’t handle all of them myself. I didn’t want to admit that I might be outnumbered and that I may or may not have stumbled into something that I did not know if I would make it out of. The men gathered around like I was some form of entertainment for their own pleasure, gawking at me with hunger. I had been in plenty of situations similar to the one at hand, from men alike taking what they wanted, and leaving me with nothing more than shame and loathing.  I wasn’t going to go through that again, I would sooner kill myself than allow it to happen. 

One of the men stepped forward slightly. He had to have been their leader with the amount of arrogance that was radiating off of him. He was a burly man, with raven black hair. Nothing special about him, no unique distinction other than perhaps a sizable scar on either side of his cheeks. 

    “What is a woman like you doing in the woods all alone?” he asked. 

His hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword, made me smile. Did he think that I was a threat? It made me think of Sihtric, and how I wished that he was here. If I made it out of this alive, I would never hear the end of it. He would make sure I knew how ignorant I was. I’ll show him.

I was not about to tell him anything. Who was to say that if I told them what I was doing, that they wouldn’t finish me and make their way after Uhtred. I decided keeping my mouth shut was the best idea. He looked at me,  suspicion and amusement resting on his features. 

    “She does not answer you, Torsten.” 

One of the men remarked. Their leader approached slowly, his head cocked as if I was something strange to look at. He placed his finger just under my chin, pulling my face up. I struggled against the man who was holding me, which only resulted in a firmer hold to my body. My skin had to begin to crawl at both of their touches. I jerked my head out of his grip, and the blade pressed deeper into my throat. 

    “Let go of me, or I swear I will cut your cock off, and feed it to you!”  

They all looked at me with shock, as if to think ‘how could she have said such a thing?’ They began to laugh at my retort.

Torsten nodded at the man behind me, who let his grip loose on me before he shoved me forward. Torsten towered over me. His eyes glanced over me with a sense of hunger, one that sent chills down my spine. His hands wrapped around my arms, keeping them restricted at my side. 

    “You are feisty, I like it.” 

His comment made my stomach curdle. 

“I haven’t had a good woman in some time, and I’m willing to bet that you would be just that.” He paused, running his hands over my body. “Perhaps we shall all share you, what do we think?” 

He glanced around at his men, and they nodded in agreement. He turned his attention back to me. 

    “See, it is agreed.” he laughed. I knew he saw the fear flash through my eyes momentarily because his smile only grew.  I tried to bring my leg up, in hopes that I could get away. He swiped my leg away with one of his own. 

    “Tsk tsk.” not so fast he remarked.

My breath was growing heavy, panic starting to spread through my body. I started to berate myself. How could I have been so stupid? 

“Rot in hell!” I spat in his face which earned everyone’s silence. He opened his eyes, with nothing short of a glare. I gave him my best scowl, not knowing how effective it would be now. I had been rewarded with an abrupt smack against my face. The cold air did little to soothe the sting that now sat on my face. Not one word was spoken. I brought myself to look at him, as I did he shoved me to the ground, my head smacking against the frozen soil.

The pain in my head spread quickly, and my eyesight blurred. If they were speaking I wasn’t able to comprehend a single word. I opened my eyes, having to blink several times until they came into focus. One of the men was making his way towards me, and I realized that I needed to move. 

I rolled over quickly and grabbed my dagger. It wasn’t much compared to the sword that the man had attached to his side, but it was all that I had. He grabbed my ankle, dragging me across the cold ground to him.  I tried to kick at him, but it was of no use. He flipped me over, squatting in front of me. 

I reared my head back and hit it hard against his, and he lost his balance. My head whirled at the pain, as I too fell back. I didn’t have time to spare, however. I drug myself to my feet before he could. He was slow, and I used that to my advantage. I straddled him and brought my dagger down to his chest, but he rolled us so he had the upper hand. My heart was racing. He got a hold of both wrists, pinning them above my head. Terror took over me, and my body reacted. I closed my eyes and kicked and screamed as he brought his face closer to mine. 

I brought my knee up as hard as I could, hitting him in the groin, rendering him semi-defenseless as he fell to the side. I grabbed my dagger and drove the blade into his chest with all the force I could muster. He cried out in pain. I jumped on top of him, straddling him as I brought the blade down again, a scream leaving me. A surge of power took over me, and I couldn’t seem to control it. I couldn’t stop myself from tearing into the man. 

 Arms wrapped around me once more pulling me from the dying body. I kicked, writhed, anything to break the grasp. I swung my head back, hitting the man in the face with the sound of a crack.

    “Dammit, Eilish!”

It must have been a cruel trick of the mind because the voice cursing my name belonged to Sihtric. He let go of me and groaned slightly. I spun quickly to see him in a bloody mess. It was none other than the Dane boy, gripping his nose. 

As I looked at him, relief came over me in a wave. I moved to him, but I heard a grunt coming from behind him. I pushed Sihtric aside, grabbing his sword from its sheath, just in time to meet the approaching man's blow. I kicked at his gut and he hurled over but quickly regained his composure, anger and rage-filled his eyes. 

    “You little bitch!”

He moved at me again, and as I tried to dodge, his blade caught my right arm, cutting into the muscle. I cried out, as the pain surged through me. As the man advanced at me again a blade came abruptly through his back and protruded his chest. The shock on his face was the last thing I saw of him, as he fell face down into the snow. 

Sihtric had stood behind him, as blood dripped off of his seax sword, and flowed from his nose. One of which made me feel guilty. I gave him an apologetic smile. All of me wanted to do nothing more than run to him. To have him hold me safely, but the look on his face stopped me. I did not know how to describe it, but it wasn’t a warm or remotely happy gaze.  

Sihtric didn’t bother to hold my gaze for long before he turned to everyone else. I hadn’t noticed, nor had it dawned on me that the others were mere feet away, meeting swords with swords. All of them, Uhtred, Finan, Osferth, and now Sihtric were cutting down Torsten’s men. 

In my moment of selfish recovery, a man charged at me, his blade ready as he took a swing at me, which I nearly dodged as it flew in front of my face. I met his sword with mine, deflecting his next swing. He didn’t seem to have any direction in the way he fought, only brute force. 

Me being smaller than him allowed for more agile movements.  I swung towards his legs, grazing his calf ever so slightly. He howled loudly in pain, but it didn’t deter him. He took another swing at me, this one with an insane amount of force. I tried to block it with my own blade, but it resulted in my sword flying out of my hand. His gaze moved to mine, and he knew he had the advantage. He lunged forward, and when he did I pulled my dagger and ducked under his blade. I plunged my dagger into his side and twisted it, anything I could to ensure his pain. Another cry from him had me feeling a surge of power and accomplishment.

 As I turned to face him, his elbow came down hard against my nose. Pain, immense pain filled my body. I could feel the blood rushing from my nose at the contact. My eyesight became blurry for a moment, and my head spun. 

While he was distracted grabbing his side, I did my best to regain my footing. I gripped the blade of my dagger and threw it through the air. It whistled through the air, as it came in contact with his head. His body stood still for a single moment before he fell to the ground. I was stunned that I was able to do that. I had been practicing with Sihtric for some time now, but I hadn’t been able to do it. I looked to Sihtric, wondering if he had seen it, but I watched as He took a blow to the head by one of Torsten’s men. The edge of the man’s shield had made contact and drawn blood. My breath hitched as he stumbled around. 

I needed to help him, to help all of them. I tried to join them, but someone grabbed my wrist, causing me to whirl around. 

Torsten tightened his grip as I tried to pull away. 

    “So you are a party to the great Uhtred,” he stated, pointing the end of his sword towards where Uhtred stood, fighting off one of Torsten’s men. 

    “Let go of me!” I put all my weight into my pull, which I soon realized was not a smart idea when he let go and I fell backward. A sword that belonged to one of his men, rested on the ground only meters beside me. I grabbed the blade and swung at him, but his blade met my own. 

    “You really are feisty,” he said, his eyes narrowed on me. 

Disgust and loathing were all that I felt when I looked at him. I lunged at him and he deflected it. His boot met my wrist, flicking the sword from my hand. In a swift motion, he had managed to grab a hold of me and pull me into him.    

“You're not going to succeed here, Eilish.” 

He whispered into my ear. His breath had imprinted itself on my ear. Hearing my name uttered from his mouth made me shutter. With the little wiggle room I had, I brought my left leg to loop under his and pulled. The force sent us both backward, and he lost his hold on me. I turned to face him, but his boot made contact with my stomach. Sending me across the cold ground. I coughed and grabbed my stomach as instinct. Torsten made his way over to me, his blade slicing through the air. I dodged his every swipe, something that Uhtred had taught me to do. 

He always told me that because I was smaller, I could dodge easier and move much faster than my opponent. Finan had taught me that I could use my size to tire my opponent out, giving me a fighting chance. 

I bent down and grabbed my sword, quickly turning and striking at him once more. As he dodged I swept his legs from him, sending him to the ground once more.  I placed my heel into the center of his chest, and my other on his right wrist, keeping it from the sword that he was so desperate to grasp. Bringing my sword up, I cut down on his arm. Slicing through the bone as he reached for it. His cry of pain could be heard from miles away no doubt.

 It had caused everyone who was fighting to look to where the sound radiated from. Sweat beaded down my face, as I looked out at the others. Sihtric took advantage of the last few men who stood there idle watching me with rage and fear in their eyes. He tore through the last man, his blade puncturing his throat.  Uhtred approached, putting his blade back in its place. Torsten was writhing underneath my foot, cursing me. 

“I need my sword, give it to me.” 

I knew that was how warriors wanted to die, the key to Valhalla. Uhtred picked up Torsten’s blade and made his way to place it in his other hand. Before he could, I plunged my own blade into Torsten’s chest, twisting it as I watched the life drain from his face. Small pools of blood raced down either side of his mouth. 

Sihtric had taught me, no mercy, for they would come back if I let them go. I had told him and all of his men that they would suffer in the depths of  Helheim, and I wasn’t going back on my word. They had tried to take something from me, and it wasn’t going to go unpunished. It had been taken from me too often, and I had never been able to fight back, but this time I could. 

Words were being spoken to me, but the ringing in my ears kept me from understanding. I wasn't focused on any of them, the only thing I could see was red. Petrified at the body before me. Arms wrapped around me and carried me away. Sihtric set me down and pulled his own furs over me. 

He was trying to comfort me, but I was unresponsive. I pulled my eyes shut, letting the noise of yelling dissipate. I took a deep breath and allowed all of my senses to return to me before I slowly opened my eyes. Sihtric stood in front of me, both his head and his nose covered in blood. His eyes were dark, and his expression was mostly unreadable.

 Anger was the only thing I could pull from him. His jaw tightened as soon as he realized that I was responsive and staring him up and down.    

    “Are you hurt?” 

His tone was harsh, harsher than it normally was with me. I couldn’t fully blame him, I  had just broken his nose, but something told me that wasn’t why he was upset. Besides the aching in my head, and the fact that my nose dripped with blood, I thought I was fine. 

    “How did you find me?” 

It hadn’t fully occurred to me how they found me, but I wanted to know. He bit the inside of his cheek, as he all but glared at me. 

    “Eilish, are you hurt?” 

His blatant disregard for my question was annoying, but not fully unpredictable. I let out a soft sigh. Finan and Uhtred stood only a few feet behind Sihtric, engaging in a heated conversation that I had a feeling was about me. 

 Sihtric grabbed my arms, holding them to my side. I pulled my right arm from his grasp, as a sharp pain overwhelmed me. I gasped and grabbed the spot, applying the slightest bit of pressure. I had been so lost in everything that I had forgotten about the gash that I had received earlier. 

His face softened, as mine became expressive. My brows furrowed and my mouth fell agape. Sihtric removed the parts of fur that covered the wound and peeled the blood-stained fabric that was stuck to the gash. He took his bottom lip in between his teeth as he looked at it. 

    “So you are hurt,” he remarked. 

He gave me a side-eye, as he returned the furs back over it. 

    “It would appear so.” 

I couldn’t help the roll of my eyes as he looked at me once more. The pain in my arm was unreal, throbbing in one significant spot, but yet I felt it in my whole body. 

    “I’m sorry about your nose.” 

My finger followed my words, as I pointed at the obvious spot that was broken. Finan made his way over to up, and just before Uhtred could make it over he whispered, 

    “He’s not pleased.” 

He gave a quick raise of his brows like he was ready to watch whatever was going to come next. I let my gaze follow him as he made his way to stand behind me, not fully out of view of what was coming. He was always too damn smug. 

 Uhtred strode over, evident what he was feeling. Beads of sweat mixed with the blood of his and another rested on his face. 

“What do you think you are doing?” he scolded.

It may have been lingering emotions from what had just happened, or perhaps his disregard from this morning when I was told to stay that was fueling me. I stood up straight and exhaled loudly as I stepped closer to him. He cocked his head at me, much like an animal does at its prey.    

         “Excuse me!” I snapped.

I was too aggravated to stop myself from speaking back with such a harsh tone. Sihtric’s eyes widened, and I could only imagine what Finan’s expression was. 

    “What was I thinking?  I do believe, Uhtred, that I am free to do as I please.”

He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in on me. He was close enough that I could feel his icy breath on my face as he spoke. 

    “You are free, but you live under my roof and my care, meaning you do as I say.”

That right there was the exact opposite of free. Free was the choice to do whatever I wanted, say whatever I wanted, and not have someone tell me what it is that I am supposed to do or think. 

“You took me in, yes, and I respect that and am grateful for it, but that doesn’t mean that I get to be kept in the dark. You pawned of responsibility on me, that I did not want--” 

He cut me off,  “So you are not fond of the boy?” 

I let out a sigh of frustration. I was more than fond of Athelstan, he was everything to me. 

    “You know how I feel about him, but that's not the point. Instead of really taking me in, it seems that you only did it to ease your conscience and to rid yourself of the one thing that would make you forever tied to the King.”

He raised a hand and both Sihtric and Finan stepped closer. I didn’t fear Uhtred, nor did I fear what would happen to me if I spoke out. 

    “I have only wanted since I got here, to be a part of it all. I do not wish to be excluded, nor do I deserve to be. I am skilled Uhtred, I can fight much more than Eadith and yet you let her join you!” 

tears began to build up in my eyes, but I blinked them away. 

    “I only want to belong to something, to have value, and to be respected as I should be. You of all people should understand that. That's all you’ve wanted.”

Uhtred’s expression softened but only slightly. 

    “You think you belong here, with us? You have to earn that, and by getting yourself almost killed, and not to mention getting us almost killed proves to me that you are a problem, that you don't belong. I left you behind because I trusted you, and I trusted that if someone or something was to happen back home that you no doubt could handle it yourself, but here you stand, breaking that trust. You say you want respect, then learn to show some. If Osferth hadn't brought you to us, you would surely be lying under some man as he did what he pleased to you, no freedom and no sense of respect would have been granted to you, you are lucky to be alive and to be taken care of. ” 

His words stung, maybe worse than the wounds that I had gained. He was right about two things, if Osferth hadn't saved me then I would have continued to be used just as he said. Secondly, I had in fact almost got myself killed. I didn’t know what to say, I had become unresponsive, numb. 

Uhtred turned on his heel and made his way down to the rest of the party. Neither Finan nor Sihtric made any movement or comment. I didn’t know what felt worse, the fact that they agreed with Uhtred, or that neither one of them said anything. I pursed my lips, letting it all sink in. I had no longer felt the pain in my arm, I no longer felt anything other than disappointment. 

“Well.”  I huffed before turning to look at both of the boys. Finan looked as if he was in deep thought, and Sihtric was, as always, unreadable. I pulled off the fur that Sihtric had draped across me and tossed it in his direction, something he clearly wasn’t expecting, as it hit the snow. I turned on my heel with my head held high. I wasn’t going to let them see anything other than an emotionless warrior.

 I picked up my dagger that had fallen out of my hand when Sihtric had pulled me away. I wiped it in the folds of my tunic before sheathing it. I was now without a sword and a horse, as they had both taken off at the sound of trouble. Uhtred called out to his men, signaling them to move out. I sat down next to the lifeless body of Torsten. 

Finan made his way over to me, taking the spot of empty ground next to me. 

    “He’s wrong.” 

I tilted my head towards him as he spoke. 

    “What were ye thinking, following after us?” 

It was like none of them seemed to understand. Not one had taken the time to actually listen to what I had said, and it showed.

    “I was thinking that I meant something to all of you, even if it was in the slightest way. I was thinking that I could show Uhtred that I was worth something and that I was more valuable to him by his side.” 

He placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. 

    “You’re a fool, you do mean something to us all. Uhtred speaks harshly, but he cares for you and he doesn’t want to see you hurt, but Eilish, he does have a point.” 

I went to object to him, but he placed his finger over my lips to silence me. 

    “Look, Uhtred is a stubborn man and we both know it, but you're acting childish. You almost got yourself killed or worse, and all for what, a bit of respect and a confirmation of what you already know. You are part of the family, trust me. The problem is, you’ve got to respect his decisions, cause at the end of the day he is the leader and we follow him.” 

Finan smiled and pushed himself off of the ground,

“Your work with a blade was beautiful.”  He winked before making his way after Uhtred.

A hand rested in front of my face. The three fine gold rings gave him away, Sihtric. I turned to look at him, he still had the look of disappointment and anger on his face. I grabbed his hand and he pulled me to my feet.. Even the slightest gesture of my hand in his felt tantalizing, a feeling that I surely only felt. 

    “Come with me.” 

He dropped his hold on my hand and walked towards the moving group, and I followed behind him. He made no efforts to speak, which led me to believe that he was more than angry with me. 

    “How did you find me?” 

His head twitched slightly, but he kept his gaze ahead.

    “Your horse.” 

My horse? She had run off, leaving me alone in the dark. I knew she wouldn’t have been much help but even here being near me would have given me some comfort in the situation. 

    “What do you mean?” I questioned. 

 “ Your horse showed up, while we were riding and I recognized it, that and your screams.” 

I nodded slowly as if he could see me. He craned his head to look at me, one brow raised. His silence was killing me. He was being cold. His gazes were made of ice, and that was all. I had the understanding as to why Uhtred was mad, and I understood that I put the rest of them in harm's way, but this was something more. 

We stopped walking, everyone was atop their horses and waiting. I caught Eadith’s gaze. She looked so captious sitting on her horse, staring down at me. She didn't say anything, she didn't need to. I was sure that Eadith was a nice woman, but she had something against me. Sihtric led over my horse, handing me the reins. 

    “Get on.” he ushered.

Once he had made sure that I was atop my horse, he pulled himself onto his own horse, moving to Uhtred’s side. It wasn’t hard to notice or even feel the hostility in the air, in fact, it was almost suffocating. They were all hypocrites. I had done nothing that any of them wouldn’t do. It was maddening to watch each of them sit atop their horses and act as though I was the one who was out of line. 

Osferth pulled up to me, he looked to be unharmed which was a relief. I cared deeply for him, he had helped me when no one else had, and for that, I owed him my life. I saw him as family, as an older brother of sorts. He didn’t look at me with any anger or disappointment, but with worry and solace.  A soft smile formed on his face, which I returned. 

“I’m glad you’re okay, lady. Sihtric recognized your horse, and we thought the worst.” 

A sigh of relief set over him as he spoke, clearly seeing that I was fine. 

“I’m well, I promise.”

Perhaps Finan was right in some aspects, I had respect from some of them. Finan, and Osferth at least, they had always made me feel like I belonged. They kept me at an arm's distance, never fully involved, however. 

When they had given me Athelstan it felt like an insult, like they had no other use for me except taking up a motherly role. It wasn’t until I went to Finan to teach me to wield a weapon, that they brought me slightly closer, but never fully in. 

    “You’re unharmed?” I suggested. 

He gave another simple smile in response. He was tired. I could see it, no doubt they all were. I was exhausted, and in pain, neither of which I wanted to acknowledge. The throbbing in my arm was becoming closer and closer to being unbearable. It hadn’t stopped bleeding. I didn’t want to speak up about it, I had already caused enough problems, and I didn’t need one more reason for all of them to loathe me.

 The air had gotten colder as the night deepened, it was burning my cheeks, and the wound on my arm. I grabbed it, squeezing on it to perhaps warm it or to soothe it, which one I knew not. I winced as I touched it, the coldness of my hand doing nothing to aid it. Osferth looked at me, his face screaming suspicion. 

    “Are you hurt, lady?” 

I did my best to soften my expression, hoping that he would leave it alone. 

    “Osferth, I’ve told you, you don’t need to call me, lady.” 

 His eyes fell to where my hand tightly grasped my arm. He hesitantly peeled back the furs, to allow him to see what it was that I was really holding. The blood had started to trickle down my fingers, causing me to squeeze it even harder. Osferth tried to remove my hand slightly to get a better look, but I wouldn’t allow it. 

    “Eilish, you’re hurt,” he stated. He pulled the furs back over my arm and looked at me. 

        “Indeed I am, baby monk,” I grunted,

He rolled his eyes, clearly not amused by the fact that I was joking about my discomfort. I looked ahead, surely we were going to stop and set up some type of camp, there was no way that we were to ride all through the night. 

      “We’ll clean you up when we stop, I promise,” Osferth remarked with a soft smile.   

“Thank you, Osferth.”

After several moments of silence and enduring the cold air as we rode, a small town came into view. Uhtred’s horse came to a halt, as did the rest. 

“We will stop there.” He says, before setting off once more. 

Tag List: Thank you lovelies 💙

@93xdiagonxalley @solinarimoon @trenko-heart

[axwalker]

Jealousy--One Shot

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2. Engagement Tour. 

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC) 

WORDS: I’m using my WD golden ticket so 3,000 words. 

POV: Dual 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT!! 🍋🍋🍋 A very frustrating Drake and Alexis.  

ALL MY FICS ARE +18 !!!! 

I’m participating in the  @wackydrabbles​   prompts. This week’s prompt is “I can’t do this anymore.” 

I apologize for any grammatical errors.   

Tags in the comments ;) 

DRAKE

Standing next to my window, I admire the Roman ruins of the Palatine hills as the royal train rolls into Rome. I’ve always loved Italy, but something about this trip is getting to me. It might be the woman occupying the cabin next to mine. It might be the fact that my best friend is almost as crazy about her as I am. Almost. He can’t possibly care for her the way I do. I down the rest of my glass and pick up a simple shirt and a pair of pants for tonight’s banquet. Fuck the black tie.

Since O’Brien came back to court, I tried to avoid her as much as I could. As a result, I’d cut off a leg tonight just to lay eyes on her again. I crave her like a drug. I spent the last few days debating with myself, and each day I grow a little more desperate, my arguments growing wilder and less probable by the minute. “Maybe” is how every single thought began, each one borne of desperation. Maybe I can make Liam understand that I’m crazy about the woman he loves. Maybe he’ll understand that I’ve been lying for months. Maybe Alexis will realize that she wants a quiet life with me. It’s a weakness on my part; I just need to get through this banquet without giving into it.

Thank God there’s a bar. I’m going to need something to make this experience tolerable. I grab a whiskey and drink half of it before I even head to my table. I’m halfway there when my eyes meet Kiara’s. She’s been leaving me flirty messages since we built the barn to celebrate Liam’s engagement. She’s a beautiful and smart woman but I couldn’t be less interested. 

“Come with me,” she says, pulling at my elbow. “I saved you a seat.” 

At that very moment, Lexie walks in. She’s wearing a red silk dress that matches her lips, pours over her curves, and reveals only a hint of cleavage while allowing you to imagine what you can’t see too fucking easily. Her hair falls over her shoulders and down her back, highlighting her long neck and her gorgeous face. As always, I seem to settle on her mouth. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen her wear red lipstick before, and, for some reason, this opens an entire box of fantasies. I want to see it soiled. To kiss her so hard that neither of us can breathe. To pull back and find that mouth ajar, panting, the lipstick a red blur around the edges., I want it so badly I’m not sure how I’ll get through the goddamn night without having it. My hands sliding that silk dress over her head, learning every inch of her the way I’ve dreamed about for months. Except right now, Lexie’s eyes are fixed on the point where Kiara’s arm is linked with mine, and her expression—sad and wounded—is like a knife to my chest. I step away from Kiara, grabbing my drink and draining it. “I’m sitting with Maxwell and Olivia,” I tell her firmly. 

 “Doesn’t Lexie look gorgeous?” Max asks. My eyes move across the room again. Her red dress shimmers, sticks on her curves. `

“She looks like she needs more clothes,” I complain. 

“Olivia helped her choose that dress,” Max says with a brow arched. “It fits her like a glove.” 

“Yeah,” I reply. “That’s sort of the problem.” 

My gaze is still on her, though. Moving up from her hips to her waist to her breasts, back up to that mouth of hers. I picture it again; the lipstick smeared, her breathless under me. And then a single hand cups her hip bone, visible through the thin silk, and I’m ejected from my fantasy at high speed. My lust transforms into rage in a single breath. Fucking Signore Francesco Lombardi. When everyone finally takes their seats, I discover that she and Francesco are at the table on the other side of mine, giving me a painfully direct view of the two of them. Whenever she stands, his eyes are on her, devouring her. He paws at her when she returns, jumping to pull out her chair but managing to get his fucking hands over approximately sixty percent of her body when he does it. And if he tries to look down her dress one more time, I’m definitely taking him out. I don’t give a fuck about our diplomatic relationships with Italy. I go to the bar again and ask for another glass of Macallan. Tonight it’s either get drunk or completely lose my shit in front of hundreds of witnesses. Pretentious food and great speeches are given out that I don’t notice. She is more real to me than anything in this room or out of it, the only thing I can see. No one knows her fears like I do. No one knows how fragile she really is, how deeply sweet. How funny and smart and kind. But I know. And for all the fighting we’ve done, there aren’t two people in this room as made for each other as the two of us. My world is constructed entirely of rules about what I owe Liam –my education, my career, and so many other things. But somehow, it excludes the only thing that matters to me. Her. If it weren’t for how Liam feels about her, she’d be here with me tonight. I watch her say something to Liam, and he nods, his eyes telling her how he feels. Jealousy runs through my veins. 

 “Enough,” I say quietly as I stand. I don’t know what possesses me to follow her. I know, with every bone in my body, that I have no claim on her. But I saw that look in Liam’s eyes, the one that says he’ll do anything for her, and I found myself on my feet. She’s halfway down the hall by the time I reach her. She looks over her shoulder warily when she hears me, but she is too late. I’m already there. I grab her elbow before she has time to react and pull her into an empty office. She stiffens and pulls back, ready as always to fight. Eyes flashing and hands on her hips. Seething before I’ve even said a word. “You have no right to—” That’s when I cup her jaw and capture that mouth I’ve longed for the whole goddamn night.

ALEXIS 

 His mouth comes down on mine, demolishing my pathetic attempt to object. He seizes it thoroughly, with such certainty, as if he’s spent his entire life practicing for this precise moment. His hands raking back through my hair, his tongue finding mine as he presses against me. His mouth moves over my neck, and he groans, a noise of both despair and satisfaction. 

“You didn’t want me a week ago, but now you do?” I start to push back, but he holds me tight against him. 

“I just don’t want you stuck in a shitty ranch with a poor veterinarian when it all ends. It was never about not wanting you.” I know there are other reasons why I’m supposed to object, but they escape me. I’ve wanted this too long, his hands on my body, my skin pressed against his, and his mouth creating a trail of kisses down my neck. It’s right. I’ve known nothing in my life with such certainty as the fact that nothing in the world matters more to me. His hands move from my hips to my breasts, and then he pulls one strap of my dress down, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses over my shoulder and collarbone, almost reverently. Nipping with his teeth and soothing it with his tongue. He pulls the dress down to my waist, unclasps my bra with a single hand. He cups my breasts, bringing his mouth to them in the same way, sharp and sweet at once and creating a need in me so intense that it borders on pain. I gasp and arch toward him, submitting entirely as my head falls backward against the wall. He pulls back just enough to see my face. His chocolate eyes are dark now as he searches mine, looking there for something he desperately needs. Permission. He wants permission. As if I’d ever tell him no. 

“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.” 

“You’re sure?” His voice is gruff with desire. And when I nod, he pushes the dress over my hips and allows it to slide to the floor. His hands follow, skating over my hips, down my thighs, and I stand before him now in nothing but panties and heels. “That fucking dress nearly killed me,” he says, smoothing my skin as he kisses me again. He pushes against me, his shirt against my bare skin, his erection pressed hard to my stomach, a quick pulse there as if he is desperate for friction. He slides his index finger under the elastic of my panties. The moment he touches me, my whole body jolts. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “You’re already soaked.” His finger slips back and forth, lightly, in torturous circles before it pushes inside me. 

“Oh God,” I whisper, my body bowing toward him. He adds a second finger, and this time his groan is louder than mine. 

“Jesus, Lex,” he growls. “You’re going to be the end of me.” 

I unclasp his belt and unzip his pants reaching down to pull him from the confines of his boxers. He is thick and heavy in my hands, hissing as my fingers wrap around him, tugging gently. 

“Stop,” he exhales after a minute. “I’m not gonna last if you do that, and there are so many things I want to do to you first.” 

He pushes my panties down and lifts me up almost simultaneously, turning to deposit me on the table behind us. He kisses me once, hard. “Lie back,” he commands. He drops to his knees, spreading my legs so I’m displayed before him. Suddenly, his fingers are joined by quick swipes of his tongue. 

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “Drake … just—”

 His mouth and tongue lick and brush and pull, creating flames that begin there and spread all the way to my toes. I try to move, but his free hand clamps down on my thigh, holding me in place. 

“I’ve dreamed about doing this every goddamn night for months, Alexis. So let me.” 

I can’t even nod in agreement because suddenly, everything inside me is building so quickly that I can’t tell where I am or where I’m going. 

“Oh,” I gasp. And then his fingers push inside me and I explode with a cry of ecstasy and surprise, arching against his mouth. He doesn’t pull back, but instead slides his hands beneath my legs and tugs me closer, buries his face to create wave after wave of something I never thought would happen in the first place. 

“Holy shit,” I breathe. He leans over to kiss me and when he does, I wrap my legs around his waist, bringing him against me so suddenly that he gasps in my mouth. 

“Lexie,” he groans. 

“Please,” I whisper. It seems impossible for anyone to be more satisfied than I am now, yet I still need the very thing Drake wants most, the thing he is so sure he shouldn’t give. He looks tortured and pulls back, but I tighten around him, pressing him against me. “Don’t even think about stopping right now.” He shifts his hips just enough that he is pressing right there, not inside me but mere seconds away from it. In a single pulse, he could be buried deep inside me. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice tight. “Do we need …” 

“No,” I beg. “Just do it. I’m on the pill.”

He pushes in, barely. He’s so thick that already I’m stretched to the point of pain. 

“Oh fuck, Lexie,” he whispers. “God, that’s so good. Just give me a minute, or this is going to be over before it starts.” 

Finally, he moves once more, going slowly, a low noise deep in his chest as he finally shoves all the way in. 

“Are you okay?” he asks between clenched teeth. I nod as I adjust to the size of him, pain still outweighing the pleasure. It’s when he starts to withdraw that the pain recedes as a burst of pleasure sucks the air from my lungs. It feels too good, something so vast and all-consuming it can’t possibly end well. I never finish this way but oh my God… If it were ever going to happen, it would be now. His next thrust is faster, more certain, but he stops entirely at my sharp inhale. “Did I hurt you, baby?” he asks. 

“No.” He didn’t hurt me. He stunned me. His strokes come slow and rhythmic then, as he leans over, finding my mouth with the table bracing his weight, his arms taut. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he says, holding still inside me. 

“Keep going,” I beg. “Don’t stop.” 

“Patience,” he grins. “You have no idea how hard it is not to come right now.” 

I grab his ass and push upward, ignoring his warning, thrilling at the low grunt he makes. “Alexis,” he growls, “goddammit.” 

His hips jerk back and then forward, almost involuntarily. It’s all I need. I cry out as it happens again, everything inside me bursting. He thrusts quick and hard, desperate now, and then stiffens with a single guttural noise as he pushes in one final time. He falls against me, his mouth against my neck, his breath warm on my skin. It’s closer than I’ve ever been to another person, and I would like to stay here, just like this, forever. But after a moment, I open my eyes when I realize what we’ve done. 

It’s a little like waking from a dream. What the fuck have I done? The best sex I’ve ever had and the biggest mistake I’ve ever made just occurred simultaneously. The guilt and astonishment collide with each other. It was wrong. No matter what other considerations there are, I just slept with Liam’s best friend.

I know I don’t owe Liam anything. I came to Cordonia to see if there was something between us beyond that kiss in New York, and there wasn’t. He’s engaged to Madeleine and I’m hopelessly in love with his best friend. Bu this isn’t about me. This is about Drake. 

I just became that woman. The kind of woman that would stand between two brothers. The type of woman capable of breaking a lifelong friendship in a moment of lust. 

I know that sooner or later, Drake will resent me, us, if he loses Liam. Somewhere inside, I knew that, but because I wanted him and was jealous of Kiara, I chose to ignore it. He looks up at me, and his smile fades. 

“What are you thinking?” he asks. There’s dread in his voice. His jaw hardens. “You regret it.” 

“Drake,” I sigh, nestling in his chest. “It’s not that. It was…amazing. I just need to figure this out.” 

“Figure what out?” 

I bury my face in his neck. I don’t want to be having this conversation with him. I wish there was a way he could just hold me and take me to his cabin and work this all out on my own later. But there’s not. “What happens next. I mean, it shouldn’t have happened. We both know that. Liam… “

“No,” he snaps, pulling away. “Do not bring him up. Are you really going to let the way it might look to everyone outside this room dictate whether or not it’s okay? This is about us, Lexie. No one else.” 

Except it’s not everyone outside this room. It’s him. Until a week ago, Drake was determined to push me away. He didn’t want to betray his best friend. He told me over and over again that he wasn’t that kind of man. That he would never forgive himself. 

I let my need obliterate every reasonable thought, as usual. And in doing so, I’ve let myself down and—far worse—I may have put Drake’s friendship with Liam at risk. I pull away and grab my dress and bra off the floor. 

“We have to get back out there before someone notices we’re gone.” 

He buttons his shirt. “So you want to go back and continue flirting with Liam like this didn’t just happen?” he asks.

.

It’s right then, at that precise moment, that I realize that no matter what happens, Drake and I will never be together. Liam will always be there, between us. Right now, in our post-orgasmic bliss, Drake is not thinking straight, but I know what he will be telling me tomorrow morning. Or at least how he will be feeling. Guilty. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” I take a deep breath to calm myself. “So what matters most is that we both get through the banquet like nothing happened.” 

“And then what?” He growls.

His anger doesn’t scare me. “Can we please just get through the next hour?” I ask. “Liam is out there. Olivia, Max, Kiara are out there. The most important thing either of us can do right now is to act like nothing’s wrong.” 

He fastens his belt and moves to the door, his jaw rigid. He’s doing what I asked, but I hate that he’s leaving mad. I’m doing this for him. I don’t want him to lose the only relationship in his life that matters to him. “Drake, wait—” 

 “For what?” he demands. “I just fucked you on a table, and now you’re sending me on my way. What more could you possibly need to add to that?” With those parting words, he crosses the door and walks out, leaving me heartbroken. 

[hitozy]

𝐝𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐬

excelsior ‹ masterlist › anemone

I feel before I see the sunlight filtering through the light curtains in the bedroom. It warms the sliver of naked skin exposed by the heavy arm on my back. I can make out the sounds of birds chirping outside the window, their day already starting.

Blinking my eyes open, I look at the alarm clock and groan at the early time, burying my face in my pillow trying to will myself back to sleep, but in the back of my mind, the prickling feeling of anxiety starts to wake up, reminding me of the deadline of the new article I’m writing about looming around the corner.

Before I can even make a decision about it, the arm on my back wraps itself around my waist and pulls me into a hard chest. I loop my arms underneath his and wrap myself around him, burying my head in his neck, his breathing tickling the top of my head as he molds his body against mine, like he has since the beginning.

“It’s Saturday, stay with me love.” He grumbles into my hair, his voice laced thick with sleep making it deeper than usual. One of his hands is resting on top of my butt, the other is drawing lazy circles on my back, lifting my shirt up the higher he goes. I made a sound of agreement and we stayed in each other's arms for as long as we could.

It’s strange, when we both can and have the time available to just lay in bed and absorb each other's presence like this. Our mornings are usually so charged with things to do and the nights as well, but through trial and error we have both learned from our mistakes, we have grown from our stubbornness and lessened the arguments. We learned to communicate better, to trust each other and grow together. We have a system made, we have our relationship established and put in place, we have much more than I had ever dreamed.

So when moments like these come, even when either one of us has so much on our hands to do, we stay and indulge in little things. He enjoys the way I fall slack against his chest, lips pressing kisses along the column of his neck, lazily and messy, still half asleep in his arms as he sighs and relaxes in my ministrations. 

His hands follow and trail the bones of my arms, my neck and back, adding pressure with his fingers at every dip and lift of muscle that he can find. I suck and roll the skin on the conjecture between his shoulder and neck, leaving a mark there. He groans low as he shifts his hips against mine, interlacing our legs together and providing much needed friction.

We are soon interrupted by the light pattering of tiny feet running down the hall to our bedroom, and I can’t help but smile against his neck as he chuckles at the little intruder opening the door quietly.

Kiyoomi stretches out our intertwined legs and I feel the small hand clutch his foot so the little one can pull himself up on the bed after throwing the plushie up. We soon feel the weight of a little one on the bed, crawling its way up until he’s standing behind Kiyoomi, his little hand shaking Kiyoomi’s shoulder tentatively.

“Mama? Papa?” Kota whisper-shouts at us and I bite Kiyoomi’s neck to stop us both from laughing, he retaliates with a pinch on my ass and I squeal at it, blowing our cover. Looking over his shoulder, I find Kota inches away from my face, his favorite green bunny plush that Kiyoomi had bought for him before he was born tightly in his arms, a brilliant smile on his face.

“Monin’ mama!”

Kiyoomi reaches behind and carries Kota inside our arms, laying him in between us. Wrapping his arms around me and Kota, squishing our faces together. Kota giggles as he kisses both our cheeks somehow, “Monin’ papa!”

Kiyoomi nuzzles his cheek against Kota, bringing out a fit of giggles from the little boy, “Morning, bun. How are you awake so early?”

Kota frees himself from his fathers grip and sits on the pillow in between our heads, pulling his bunny close to his chest, “Hungy, wan’ bekfas.” I look at Kiyoomi to watch his half lidded eyes watching our son, a smile plastered on his face and a caring gaze directed toward him. It doesn’t matter that three years have passed, Kiyoomi still looks at Kota like the day he was born. Eyes filled with joy and care, comfort and love, awestruck by the little ray of sunshine. It always makes my heart clench to know that Kiyoomi sees Kota as his son and reciprocates the unmeasured love.

Before we can answer our boy, his tummy rumbles, a clear sign of his predicament.

Kiyoomi looks down at me, a little twinkle in his eye, “Pancakes?”

I gave him a quick peck, “Pancakes.”

Kota springs up and jumps giddy on the bed, pulling on Kiyoomi’s shirt, “Pancakes!”

                                                    ―

Kiyoomi walks down the hall of his home with Kota at tow after helping make his bed. The once empty hallway is now covered in picture frames and diplomas. When they had moved in, the only picture that was up on the wall was of YN’s first ultrasound, now it has a variety of frames with pictures of memories that they share. Of YN’s graduation picture and diploma along with Kiyoomi’s, of Kota in their arms for the first time, of all his birthdays and holidays. Of friends and family, of everyone they care and love for, of their achievements and goals.

He adores every single one of them.

Kota is tugging his hand to hurry him up towards the kitchen, so Kiyoomi picks him up and blows a raspberry on his tummy, a fit of giggles awakening once again. If someone had once told him that he would be doing this at 25, he would have probably gagged.

Today? He wouldn’t change it for anything, not his son or his girlfriend. Nothing.

As soon as they enter the kitchen the sweet smell of syrup and whipped cream engulfs them, the growling in Kota’s tummy stronger than before. The table is already made, fruits and meats on it, only missing the key food. Kiyoomi settles his son on his chair and makes his way to the love of his life, making pancakes. He wraps his arms around her waist as he presses his front against her back and kisses from her neck down to her shoulder, “Morning, love.”

She turns and kisses him, her lips in perfect synchrony with his own. The heat in his stomach makes an appearance and he knows he has to cut it short, before he traumatizes his son. She grinds her ass against him and he breaks the kiss, swallowing a moan and completely detaching himself from her feeling a bit disheveled, openly glaring at her.

She smirks at him, fully aware of his predicament, “Maybe later, but you need to calm down now” , she teases him as she hands over a plate filled with pancakes.

He swats her ass as he makes his way out, her look of amusement following his moves as she shuts off the stove, he grumbles a “Smart ass” before smiling at Kota’s sparkling eyes.

She winks at Kiyoomi over the little ones head, sticking her tongue out at him playfully before serving the boy his breakfast.

Breakfast is sticky and goey and extremely messy, but so utterly sweet when Kota is making happy noises, finishing everything from on his plate, that Kiyoomi can’t bring himself to hate it.

                                                   ―

When Kiyoomi was single, he would spend his weekends either training by himself or with Komori, or he would clean his room/apartment from head to toe. Now, as a professional athlete and family man, some things have changed. 

He no longer spends the whole weekend training and cleaning, instead he cleans for an hour at night and trains some afternoons, keeping the rest of his day open to spend with you and Kota. As the years pass though, he wishes he could reduce his training times so he can spend more time with the both of you. Especially moments like now, when he is kissing you before he leaves, at the door while Kota looks up at him gripping his legs saying his goodbyes for a few hours.

He knows you’ll be working on your article that should be coming out next week, a column you had in the newspaper about twenty first century love advice, and he still finds it comical that you would want to do it. But the way you pour your heart and soul to ever word in it makes him extremely proud. Watching you get immersed in your art is something he could do for hours, if he takes pictures of you during that time, well.

It is his phone.

The drive to the gym is unnecessarily long and clings unhappily to his skin, he’s already calculating how much time is left before he can go home and he hasn’t even parked yet.

He takes off his mask as he makes his way to the gym with the three hyperactive musketeers trailing behind him, carrying too much energy for him to even want to interact.

Kota is easier to be with than the other three, even when the bunny boy is high on sugar.

What does lighten his mood a bit is when Atsumu mentions the National Team getting a new trainer. Starting next month, his schedule is going to change and his family is already preparing for it, if the handmade schedule you made meant anything by it.

He would have to train three days a week with MSBY and the other three with the National Team. Those living outside the country would be brought in as the starting day of the Olympics comes near. His training times will be shifted to the mornings instead of middays and afternoons, meaning he will still be able to see Kota when he gets home but he won’t be seeing him in the morning before he leaves.

He is about to ask Miya if he knows the new trainer when Bokuto interrupts him, loudly. “Oh! Shoyo told me about him! That killer setter guy, Oikawa, went to his same high school! Right, Shoyo? He’s gotta be good!”

He listens to the tangerine haired man agree nonchalantly, but his eyes are shifting in a way that has Kiyoomi freezing and missing the toss Atsumu throws at him, letting the ball roll on the floor with soft thumps. The bleached haired man eyes him worriedly as he tries to push Bokuto off of him when he exclaims about never tossing him anything when he never misses like Kiyoomi.

He feels his heart skip a beat at the new information, cold sweat drenching his back and he has barely begun working out. His left hand is shaking and he finds himself clenching it in his other hand to stop it. The voices of his teammates mix together in the background as he tries to focus.

Kiyoomi rationalizes in his mind the simple facts that could stop his mind from spiraling:

He moved to the US. He has a life there now. He doesn’t have a reason to come back.

There are many people that went to Aoba Johsai and could have become trainers. It was irrational to think that he could be the only one to become a personal trainer, regardless of his studies. 

Shoyo knew too many people from opposing schools, this guy could be from the first year lineup back then.

He can’t take away Kota.

He gasps at the last thought worming inside his brain and takes captive of his logical thinking. Kiyoomi is not afraid of him, but he is afraid that if he ever comes back, he will try to take Kota away from them. Kiyoomi is stated as Kota’s father in every legal document but there are laws that can help him and that mere thought causes the athlete to, in your words, flip the fuck out.

Kiyoomi just stands there, looking at his sneakers for a bit when he realizes that the white noise in the background is not him tuning out, but instead an eerie silence in the usually loud gym. When he looks up, he notices that Atsumu isn’t the only one observing him, but the entire team is standing still, and Shoyo…

Shoyo is biting his lip when Kiyoomi faces him, when Kiyoomi asks him, implores him, “Please tell me it is not him.”

Because if there is anyone that would know if he was coming back, it was either Oikawa, Kageyama or Shoyo. And all three of them work together in clockwork since they are friends, so if one knew, the others did as well.

“Yo, Tsumu, who’s him?” Bokuto whispers-shouts beside them before they hear Atsumu shushing, “Bro, not the time.”

When Shoyo looks back at him, eyes filled with remorse and heartbreak, something Kiyoomi almost feels like it's a reflection of his own eyes and he feels utterly defeated by it. 

He can see all the ways this is going to mess up his, yours and Kota’s schedule because he’s coming back.

Iwaizumi Hajime is coming back to Japan.

This time the silence was longer. She said only one more thing before we hung up: “Going back to something is harder than you think.” I don’t suppose I could have broken my mother’s heart any more if I tried.

For One More Day by Mitch Albom

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ― im back! sorry this took longer than expected, but I kind of wanted to flesh out this last part of the series, that way I can actually post on time instead of making you all wait for the ending~ I have a couple of extra/mini stories for this series as well, a bit more insight of the past for reader and iwaizumi, along with sakusa and baby kota in the mix ♥ just to make you all feel loved for my long hiatus on the fic.

i’ll see you soon for next weeks update (;

taglist ! ​ @daphnxy​​​  @zukoslosthishonor​​ @i-am-a-hoe-for-shinya​ @mrsdoradominguez-barnes @anejuuuuoy​ @all-in-the-fandoms​ @katsuera​​

[moon-light-jukebox]

A Truth Universally Acknowledged - [Hotch x Reader] - Chapter 1

masterlist // series index // next chapter

Summary: Reader is a member of the BAU that is liked by everyone...except her unit chief, Aaron Hotchner.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k for Chapter 1. 

Genre: Angst. Eventually Smut and Fluff. 

Content Warning: None for chapter 1. 

A/n: This is going to be an enemies to lovers story. It is loosely inspired by pride and prejudice. I decided to release it today because I hit 1.3k followers a little bit ago. Thank you all so much. 😊

--Chapter 1-- 

One of the lessons I learned early in life is that not everyone is going to like you. You can be the nicest, sweetest, prettiest peach on the tree…and you’re still gonna run into a mother fucker who hates peaches. And that’s okay.

I wasn’t for everyone; the people that loved me loved me fiercely and that was more than enough. It didn’t matter that some people didn’t like me.

…but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why Agent Hotchner hated me.

“He doesn’t hate you,” Garcia had told me, but even she didn’t look super convinced.

Hotch wasn’t an easy man. He was intimidating, domineering, and intense; but sometimes when he was with his team, I saw him smile or even laugh at something they had said. I had seen how his eyes lit up whenever he talked about his son. He wasn’t cold, detached, and mean to everyone.

Just to me.

--

Occasionally, I try to mentally run through my time at the BAU to see if I can pinpoint the thing I did that made the unit chief dislike me. It really didn't matter if he liked me, but he seemed offended by my existence. It didn't make for an easy working relationship, and if I could somehow apologize for what I had done, then maybe things at work would get easier.

I wasn't a member of the BAU team that went out in the field; I wasn't a profiler, but I was part of the entire unit. Most people only thought of Hotch's team that jumped on a plane with him when you said BAU, but dozens of us stayed back and worked behind the scenes to make sure things ran smoothly. Even though I wasn't a profiler, I was still so happy to be a part of this unit; all I had ever wanted was to make a difference.

It just seems that the difference I made was a bad one.

“Hey,” a voice called, drawing me out of my thoughts. Agent Jaruau, JJ as she told everyone to call her, was standing beside my desks with a manila FBI file in her hands. “Did you file this?”

My brow furrowed as I took the file she handed me, running my eyes over the document. Everything looked right…until I got to the bottom line.

“Shit,” I mumbled, my eyes snapping back up to look at hers. “I’m sorry.”

JJ waved her hand, dismissing my apology. “It’s no big deal, I made that same mistake fairly often when I worked as a media liaison. That form is confusing.” She gave me a small, genuine smile. “It’s already been logged into the system…” the pretty blonde woman let her words trail off, but I knew what she didn’t want to say.

“Hotch needs to sign off on the change,” I finished for her.

“I can take it to him for you,” she offered. “I don’t mind.”

I shook my head. “That will just make it worse.” I stood, squaring my shoulders. “It’s okay. It was my mistake; I’ll take responsibility for it.”

She just patted my back when I walked by, making the dreaded walk across the bullpen, up the stairs to Hotch’s office. This sort of dumb clerical error wouldn’t be a big deal for anyone else, but everyone knew how Hotch felt about me.

Huffing out a breath, I rapped my knuckles on his office door.

“Come in,” his gruff voice called out.

I kept my eyes downcast when I entered the room, shutting the door behind me. I sort of looked at dealing with Hotch in the same way you’d deal with a predator. No sudden moves, no direct eye contact, nothing that could be seen as challenging.

“Sorry to bother you, sir.” I began, my fingers gripping the file in my hand tightly. “I just need your approval on a system record change.” I held out the file folder.

It was promptly ripped out of my hands. “It’s customary to look at someone when you speak to them, Agent.”

Heat burned in my cheeks, but I lifted my gaze, grateful he wasn’t looking at me but at the file in front of him.

“Why does this need a record change?” he asked, still not looking at me.

Here goes nothing. “I made an error on line 35.”

I saw the grip he had on his pen tighten ever so slightly. “I see,” he said softly. “Tell me, Agent, did you bother to read the form before you filled it out?”

"Yes, sir," I said quietly, feeling the muscles in my back tensing.

“Then how did you make such a stupid mistake?” Those dark brown eyes finally came to rest on my face. “I can’t have agents in this unit who are so careless. I don’t have the time to be cleaning up after anyone’s mistakes.” His voice had gotten sharper, he wasn’t quite yelling, but his words struck me hard just the same. “Is that clear?”

I nodded, focusing my eyes on his left ear. I was afraid if I saw the anger in his eyes that it would hurt me even worse.

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”

My throat worked as I tried to swallow my emotions. “I’m sorry sir, it won’t happen again.”

He tossed the file on his desk. “See that it doesn’t.”

I snatched the folder off of his desk and all but ran from his office. I made the return walk down the stairs and across the bullpen to my desk. I dropped the file on my desk with a shaky exhale.

I really wanted to be the sort of person who could accept criticism without getting so emotional. I wanted to be the sort of person that could put up a brave face and let painful words just roll off of me.

But I wasn't.

I stood in front of my desk for a moment, weighing my options. I could sit down at my desk and try to pretend I wasn't gutted, or I could run to the bathroom and cry alone.

I chose the latter.

--

Whenever I got so upset, I always felt like I had let the other person win. Running out of the bullpen and locking myself in a bathroom stall while I angrily dashed away the tears the rolled down my cheeks made me feel like a failure.

I kept telling myself that it didn’t matter what Agent Hotchner thought of me. I was good at my job, I had to be, or he would have already fired me. His complaints seemed to just be with…me as a person.

I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom and took inventory of my reflection. It looked like I had been crying, but that’s nothing a makeup wipe couldn’t mostly fix. Besides, what did it matter if Hotch made me cry? He made Anderson cry all the time and no one said anything to him.

It wasn’t until I was tossing my makeup wipe away that I let out a slightly bitter chuckle; I realized I still mentally refer to him as “Hotch,” it’s what he told everyone to call him.

Everyone but me.

--

I had long ago decided that coffee was the answer to almost every problem life had. I think the only person who made more trips to the coffee machine than me was Dr. Spencer Reid. He didn't talk to me a lot either, but I don't think that's because he didn't like me. I think he was just awkward and nervous. Maybe I should try to talk to him more.

Dr. Reid wasn’t at the coffee station when I made my way there after exiting the bathroom, but another member of the BAU was. If it had been anyone else, I might have tried to turn and act like I wasn’t going to the coffee pot in the first place, but I’m sure he had already noticed me.

David Rossi didn’t miss much.

I made my way over to the kitchenette counter, grabbing one of my mugs out of the cabinet before turning my head in his direction.  "Good morning, Agent Rossi," I chirped in greeting.

The older man returned my greeting, his eyes running over my face in a way that would have been terrifying if I didn’t know the man. I still wasn’t sure how someone could look so friendly and so calculating all at the same time.

“You okay, kiddo?” he asked, dropping his focus to his own coffee cup on the counter.

My teeth gnawed on my bottom lip as I considered my answer. “There’s no point in trying to lie to you, is there?”

The man who developed the art of profiling chuckled at my question. "No, not much of a point," he informed me, his voice kind. He didn't seem the least bit off-put by my question. "It's also probably not fair of me to ask such a hard question."

“No, it’s fine,” I insisted.

The older man just shook his head. “We both know it’s not.”

I felt tears prick the inner corners of my eyes again. “I just…I don’t know why he hates me so much. And I wish it didn’t bother me but-.” My voice cracked, betraying how upset I truly was.

Rossi let out a defeated sigh and reached his hand out to cover my own. “I’ve known Aaron for a long time, y/n. He’s a good man, one of the best men I’ve ever met.” He patted my hand before he pulled away to pick up his own cup. “Doesn’t mean he’s not a dick sometimes.”

I just gave him a slightly watery chuckle. “It’s okay. I just need to toughen up.”

“You don’t need to change a thing, Bella.” Rossi gave me one last smile before walking back to his own office.

I had already turned my focus back to my own coffee cup when I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, a primal instinct to let me know that I wasn’t totally safe.

There was no reason to look around; there was only one person who could make me feel that way in this building. My focus remained on my cup as I stirred in my packets of Splenda. Every cell of my body was telling me to run, but what was the point? Besides, he was less likely to yell at me in front of other people.

I hoped.

The air shifted when he took the same place against the counter that Rossi had just occupied; I'm sure he noticed subtle changes in my posture, no matter how hard I tried to hide them.

I gathered up the empty packets in one hand and gripped the handle of my mug in the other. “Excuse me,” I mumbled as I moved around him.

I hadn’t taken more than two steps before he spoke. “Agent.”

“Yes, sir?” I spun on my heel to face him.

He looked just the same as he had in his office. Trademark scowl, closely cropped dark hair, piercing dark eyes, black suit, red tie. Most of all he still looked utterly displeased that I existed in his general vicinity.

Agent Hotchner seemed to hesitate for a minute while his eyes ran over my face. “I…I, um.” He paused to clear his throat. “I expect that form to be re-entered into the system before the noon briefing.”

Right. I glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time was 11:15 am. “I’ll do it right now.”

He looked like he would say something else but snapped his lips together, giving me a sharp nod instead. I took that as a dismissal and made my way back to my desk.

Aaron Hotchner had won this round. 

-- 

Permeant Taglist : @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool @andiebeaword @imjusthereformggcontent @rainsong01 @violentvulgarvolatile @mys2425 @al3xmnd @imfalling-inlove @cielo1984 @shadyladyperfection @kissingvalentino @goofygubler14 @levylovegood @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @criminalmindzjunkie @addie5264 @hopefulfangirl24 @vellichor01 @ellegreenawayapologist @mcntsee @eevee0722 @peacedolantwins2 @ashwarren32 @goldencherrymooon​

ATUA  Series taglist - @chelseyjoyce​ @gublersbooblers @moonshinerbynight

Just comment or message me if you’d like to be added to either taglist. 

[ladydimitrescuspet]

Make Me Feel Better Chapter 4

AO3 Link! wow, long time no update! welcome to a filler chapter that's not really a filler chapter but is definitely a filler chapter! I hope y'all enjoy it and tell me your thoughts if you'd like! and as always, sorry for any and every grammatical error!

disclaimer: as it is in 'What About What I Want?', Victoria is the oldest, Elise is the youngest, and Daniela is the middle child. this was started before information about the daughters was released so until I finish this fic up and the other one, that's how it's gonna be. okay?? okay!! enjoy!

Tag List (click here to join): @lord-dimitrescu, @alwaysgoodnight, @paint-it-periwinkle, @lightspica, @ultimatebottom69, @sexyheisenbeast, @crazy-obsessed, @squid3, @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu, @the-obscurity, @sapphicalciee, @ladydimitresculove, @solemnnova, @itsyourgirlmalise, @the-little-shadow, @marvelwomen-simp, @rachelthefanfictionwriter, @d14n4ol, @peachesandlesbians, @celina1221, @theuselesslezbian｜Anna, @Gansito83, @Followingmyheartledmetoyou, (won’t tag, idk why)

-----

Two weeks. You’d been down in your cell for two whole weeks. Alcina hadn’t even come down to see you, only sending either Elise or Victoria to check on you and bring you your meals. You stayed facing the wall, your back to the cell as it opened.

“Y/N?” That voice didn’t belong to Elise or Victoria, it belonged to Daniela. You felt yourself tense when your name fell from her lips. “I’m… I’m not here to hurt you. I actually shouldn’t even be down here.” Daniela explained.

You still hadn’t made an effort to turn and face her. You felt the bed dip as Daniela sat down. “What do you want?” You asked, your voice soft.

Daniela sighed. “I’m sorry.” She glanced over at you before continuing. “I’m not expecting you to forgive me for what I said, but I am sorry.” Daniela said, reiterating her two worded apology. She cleared her throat before speaking again. “Mother Miranda said that the way I acted reflected badly on her and my family, I… she was disappointed in me. I’m disappointed in myself, if you can believe that.”

“I don’t.” You replied, still staring at the wall. You wanted her to leave, you wanted to be left alone. In all honesty, you wish you hadn’t run into Heisenberg that night you’d been travelling after escaping your kidnappers.

Daniela stood up from the bed. “Mother Miranda wanted me to give you these. Mother says that Mother Miranda will be visiting in a few days and she wants you to know what the high priestess looks like and how to act when she gets here. You’re to write a report and Elise or Victoria will pick it up tomorrow evening.” Daniela’s tone was now firm as opposed to earlier tone when she was apologising.

Daniela left after that, the cell door closing with a loud thud. You looked over your shoulder and found the room empty, she was really gone. When you sat up in the bed, you looked over at the table and your eyes widened before you let out a scream. The face in the photograph, you knew that face. You stood up from the bed and slowly made your way over to the picture, your hands shaking as you picked up. That was Mother Miranda? You shook your head, no no no, it couldn’t be. You dropped the picture and went over to the door. You were about to bang on it and scream for Alcina when the door creaked open a bit, Daniela hadn’t locked it, strange.

“Hello? Daniela?” You called out into the dungeon. You gulped as you took a step out of the cell, looking around to see if there were any of those ghouls lurking around, you didn’t know what they were called. You tried to remember how Lady Dimitrescu had brought you down here, but it was dark so you could barely see. You’d almost given up and was on your way back to your cell when you heard something. “Hello? Is anybody there?”

You heard a growl in response and a shiver ran down your spine. You could hear a scraping noise, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard. “Please, can you help me?” You asked the surrounding darkness.

“Run!” Was suddenly screamed into your ear and it was all you needed to set you off.

You ran until you rounded a corner and found yourself face to face with those ghouls. There was little light in this part of the cellar, but you could see that some of them had swords and you gulped. You let out a scream as one of them moved toward you swinging the swords, others trying to claw at you with their sickles. One of their sickles caught your upper arm, tearing the sleeve of your shirt. You pushed past them, managing to find your way to a set of stairs that led to the kitchen area. You grimaced at all of the dead animals hanging up, looking away as you came upon a hallway that led you to a hallway where you saw a door. A door that leads to… the dining room? That was good, right? You knew the door to the right led to main hall. Mostly because you could hear voices, but you’d been through the dining room plenty of times to get to the courtyard. You opened the door slowly, seeing the Lady and her daughters talking and you gulped. You could easily sneak out the courtyard door, go to the gardens, make your way into the woods and leave, but would that really fix everything? Running away again?

“Darling, are you going to stay behind the door or would you like to join us?” A voice asked, you recognised it as Alcina’s. “And how, pray tell, did you get out of your cell?” Alcina asked, but she was looking at Daniela.

Daniela shrugged. “I locked the door, but the key must be faulty.” Daniela replied.

Alcina sighed. “I will deal with you later, Daniela. For now, go find something to do while I talk with Y/N.” Alcina ordered. The girls half swarmed away upstairs and you caught Daniela running her thumb across her neck and mouthing, “You’re dead.”, causing your eyes to widen a bit. “Did you learn your lesson?” Alcina asked.

You frowned. “You left me down there for two weeks, Alcina.” You replied. “Two whole fucking weeks and you didn’t even check on me. And then you send Daniela down there and she fucking gives me a picture of Mother Miranda.” Her name left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“And what about Mother Miranda, dearest?” Alcina asked with a raised eyebrow.

You let out a small sigh. “She’s the one… that was holding me captive. I escaped from her.” You replied.

Alcina hummed. “Impossible. You said you’d been walking for days before you go to the village and Mother Miranda resides here so you must be mistaken.” Alcina said.

“I’m not mistaken, Alcina! She’s the one that I escaped from and I had been walking for days before I ran into Heisenberg.” You argued. You shook your head. “I don’t feel safe here anymore, Alcina.” You said quietly.

“Come here,” Alcina commanded and you went to stand in front of her. “I told you, you are safe here, not anywhere else. Do you understand?” You nodded your head. “Despite your words, you will remain in this Castle, under my protection. I won’t let anyone harm you, and I definitely won’t let Mother Miranda get her hands on you again. Is that clear?” You nodded your head again. “You poor dear, you were down there for an awfully long time. I suppose I should explain why.”

You looked up at her. “Explain why?” You questioned. ”I thought you didn’t…” Your sentence trailed off.

“Didn’t what? Didn’t care?” You chewed on your lip. “Of course I care, darling, that’s why I had you down there. To put it simple, there was… an incident that needed to be tended to and it was best for you to be down there than up here.” Alcina explained.

“What happened?” You asked.

Alcina shook her head. “Nothing to concern that beautiful brain of yours with. Now, why don’t we get you all cleaned up and fed, yes?” She suggested and you nodded your head. You let out a small yelp when she picked you up. “I’m terribly sorry that you had to be down there for so long, perhaps it was a bit cruel of me to subject you to that part of your punishment.” Alcina said as she carried you to the bathroom in her chambers.

“The report?” You asked, suddenly remembering what Daniela told you. Alcina hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t say anything. “Daniela said-“

Alcina cut you off. “Just because Daniela claims that I said something doesn’t mean it’s true. She may have learned her lesson with how she treated you, but it doesn’t mean you’re automatically off her bad side.” Alcina said. “Now, you take your time in here, and I will have Natalie bring you something to eat, I’m sure the two of you have much to catch up on, dear.” Alcina didn’t leave room for you to reply as she exited the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

You didn’t know how long you stayed in the bath for, but by the time you opened your eyes, the water was cold. Stepping out and drying yourself off, you made your way into the bedroom to find Natalie tidying the room up while a tray of food sat on a nearby table.

“Y/N, I’m so glad you’re alright!” Natalie exclaimed. You smiled at her and sat in front of the tray to eat. “So much happened while you were down there. Did the Lady tell you about it?” Natalie asked. You shook your head. “Oh. Well then, I better not speak on it, she might have my head for it.” Natalie said with a small laugh. “The Lady wanted me to tell you to meet her in her study after you’re done eating.”

You nodded your head. “Yeah, okay.” You replied. The two of you sat in silence while you mostly played with your food before deciding that you’d had enough. “I’ll um, I’ll see you around, Nat.” You said as she took the tray from the room.

“Try not to get put in the cellar again. It was very lonely without you around to nag at me.” Natalie said before leaving the bedroom.

You dressed before making your way down a few hallways before coming to Alcina’s study, knocking and only entering when she told you you could. “Natalie sa-“ She put a finger to her lips to quiet you before gesturing for you to sit down.

“Yes, Heisenberg, I am well aware of that now.” Alcina replied before sighing. “If you could just… Heisenberg, listen carefully, whatever you have planned, just keep it under wraps.” Alcina said. “Yes, I know. She did? Mother told you? Well, what about me?” Alcina questioned. Her brows furrowed. “Heisenberg we will continue this discussion another time.” Alcina replied. “Yes, you may come over, but if you bring any of your disgusting mutts here, I will not hesitate to turn them into skewers, do you understand?”Alcina threatened. “Good.” Was all she said before hanging up.

“What did he say?” You asked, shifting a bit in your seat.

Alcina shook her head. “Not now, darling. You’ll know what’s going on in due time.” Alcina replied. “I need you in here be-“ Alcina found herself being cut off by the arrival of her daughter, Daniela. “Because of her.” Alcina said, gesturing toward Daniela.

Daniela crossed her arms. “What is that rat doing here, Mother?” Alcina raised her eyebrow. “Sorry, Mother.”

“You two will be… getting better acquainted before the arrival of Mother Miranda.” Alcina said. “I won’t hear any excuses as to why you don’t want, Daniela. Besides, you’re to make sure Y/N feels safe here in our Castle. This is a much their home as it is yours.” Alcina explained. “And with some new information I received, you and your sisters will remain with Y/N at all times until I feel as if you don’t need to. You all may take turns watching them, but do try to give them as much space as possible.”

“At all times?” You asked.

Alcina nodded her head. “Yes. Excluding when you’re sleeping as you’ll be with me.” Alcina replied. “Any other questions?”

“Why do we have to babysit Y/N?” Daniela asked.

“Because Daniela, it is for their own safety.” Alcina answered. “If you wish to know more about the situation then ask Y/N about it. Until then, you both will need to write letters to each apologising for your actions. You’re dismissed.” Daniela opened her mouth to protest but closed it immediately because of the look her Mother gave her. “Deliver the news to your sisters, thank you. And take Y/N with you. You two can work in the library and I will be by later to check on what you have written so far.” Alcina said before fussing over her paperwork.

“Alcina?” She hummed. “Thank you.” You said quietly before rounding the table and kissing her on the cheek. “I really appreciate you making the effort to make sure that I feel safer in the Castle and hopefully with time I can gain Daniela’s trust.” You gave her a small smile and wave before exiting the study, running to catch up with Daniela who had left you behind.

Alcina let out a sigh, rubbing her temples. She couldn’t necessarily overpower Mother Miranda on her own, but if she could make you feel safer, protect you, and have you be grateful for that then she could accept that until she could take down Mother Miranda for the hell she put you through.

[funkymbtifiction]

Writers: NFP

What would say are some of the difference between an ENFP approach to writing and an INFP? I realize that they may be too similar to separate in this way, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

Hm. I thought I had my INFP friend answer a similar ask to this in the writing tag, but now I can’t find it. Since we’re both writers, I can tell you the difference.

For an ENFP, the ideas come first -- and they come fast and furious, characters change, situations change, rabbit trails pop up, and if they are not consciously careful and utilizing Te to decide which characters / subplots are unnecessary or would distract from their main plot, they wind up with 30 under-developed main characters because “I had all of these ideas and they were too good to pass up.” When I write, there’s a constant struggle between Ne-dom running wild and giving me a whole bunch of possible outcomes, characters (what if I changed their profession, how would that shape the plot? should their name be something else? they tend to “name themselves,” hah), scenes, etc, and a low Te desire to keep myself on track, make sense of it, narrow down options to keep the story manageable, etc. I just... start writing and find a plot after a lot of trial and error, because I have vague conceptual ideas of what I want but am not sure of the main thrust yet... so I “learn by doing” (writing) -- I founder around until I find the right (strongest) idea and then take it in a new direction or start over with that. I can sometimes have as many as 12 false starts, each 20,000 words, before I make up my mind, simply because I have too many half-baked ideas before I’m a single chapter into a novel. I then spend massive amounts of time writing, rewriting, going back and drafting in new things (retrospective writing) as a BETTER idea presents itself midway through the process. Basically, full on perceiving dominant go with the flow and adapt, no I don’t have any attachment to that idea, it’s obviously dead to me now.

INFP had to learn to trust her Ne and let it improvise; she was trying to go at it from a planning perspective (and she still admits that she has to come up with a workable outline and test all her ideas with Te to figure out if any of them are worth doing), based on how she felt about things. She keeps her plots smaller and more intimate, often focused around people’s emotional dynamics, and they very much reflect her own personality (she imprints on everything -- I can see her “in” what she writes, whereas I’m more obscured and philosophical). She is more meticulous and doesn’t work nearly as fast, because her ideas are more gradual and tied to the individuality of her characters and “who they are.” She is more resistant to criticism and not as easily able to change on a dime and re-shape a story (I can do that, since I instantly see how to “fix” everything and make it build toward this inevitable conclusion / better approach), but also needs less rewriting because she doesn’t get carried off by rabbit trails.

[yanderecandystore]

Rip Tumblr D-do you have any dragon ocs that might kidnap their s/o? Also I know that this is a stupid question but can I call myself Cold anon? ;-;

Hello 🍨 Cold ❄️!! I'm really glad you sent me this request!

 The current app that I use for writing is bugging out a lot, so I'm sorry if there are many grammar errors and mistakes here and there.

 And uh... Cold? I think I fucked up your ask? I think I got a little too excited and went in a different direction?? If you don't like it I understand, I could always do another one 😳😋

 TW/Tags: Guess who is being an emotional ball once again?? Me! Yey! Send help! // look, I'm sorry but, low-key? This is edginess overload lol (medieval bitch times, which by that I mean: dark times with terrible people in it) // deaths // abuse of power // Reader said: eat the rich // non-binary reader just because // cursing // slight plot twist? But, like, bad plot twist // soft dragon boi 

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

You curious little thing - [Yandere!Dragon x Reader - Short Fanfiction]:

" Deep in the forest, up in the mountains, legend says that a dragon sleeps deep within the caves. And as the old story goes, gold awaits inside his domain, but only those courageous enough to enter the deep cave and defeat the dragon, would be able to take the creature's treasure.

Many have persuaded the quest of defeating said dragon, yet no one ever came back to tell the story.

And while you sit at the comfort of your small cottage reading about the old tales of the dragon's cave, you can't help but consider the story to be just that, a story. A piece of fiction made to scare the local children away from the mountains, or to enchant those that were easily invested into these types of stories.

It seems like you're one of those that were fascinated by the old tales. Regardless of if you find it true or not. The old tales still hold a mysterious charm that manages to keep you intrigued no matter what age you re-read them.

Tales of the forest spirits protecting their land with mischievous wit, tales of monsters that crawled out of your bed to cause nightmares on the simple minded, tales of mighty dragons who could easily rule the world if they so pleased to.

Yet they didn't. Either because they didn't want to, or maybe they really didn't exist. Who knows, right [Y/N]? Not that you, a simple commoner, would know any better.

Although, from the tales you read, isn't always the common folk the ones to first encounter these things?

It always ends bad, but still.

A commoner would be the first one to be affected by the wrath of such supernatural creatures.

However, as stated before, there is no way of knowing if such a thing is real or not, right? It's been eons since the last time someone even mentioned a dragon's presence in your kingdom, and it's been centuries that the concepts of dragons had fallen into the mythological category.

There hasn't been a single person to mention the beast's names in years. There was no visible way of them being remotely real, right? That sounded absurd.

But of course, like all tales are written, your's seem to have reached the beginning of your own personal adventure when the king mentioned the need of soldiers willing to face the beast inside the cave, who was presumably hibernating throughout this whole time.

And of course, the public had only laughed at this sort of news. You see, your king's authority over the entire land has been dangling by a thin thread. The taxes, the frauds, the imminent wars threatening to occur at any second now, has helped a small portion of people to start questioning if not downright rebelling against him and his reign of terror.

The revolution was rising slowly, yet something needed to push it forward, the straw that broke the camel's back.

"What could it be?" You might be wondering.

How about kidnapping and force recruitment with the help of blackmailing? Specifically targeting the poorest people in the kingdom and taking their family members hostage if they don't comply?

Sounds so evil that you may think it's bullshit right? So inhumane, that the villain of this story might as well be your crazy king, right?

Oh, [Y/N]. You're absolutely right, yet a little bit wrong considering that even if such an evil act sounds absurd, it's absolutely real. It's part of your reality now.

And even if your king is a vile creature of pure hatred and deserves to be fed to the rats, by being a terrible ruler, husband, and father- You were soon about to learn that there are worse, more powerful forces that can easily overpower the insanity of that sad, pathetic evil man.

To your dismay, your family was one of the chosen ones to suffer from this. Because of poverty, you and your father lived in the outskirts of the kingdom. It was perfect for the king and his soldiers, as you and your father lived distant from the main town, if any of you two ever die on the process of going into the beast's cave, or disobey the king's orders, no one would notice if you two were suddenly wiped from the face of the Earth.

And of course, holding hostage just one person was easier than multiple family members. Although your king was absolutely insane if not completely psychotic, you could at least understand how he moved his pieces in this massive game of chess.

I mean, yes, you understand his reasoning. Still doesn't mean he is right.

Soldiers didn't wait too long to show up and try to force your father to go with them. But you didn't take none of that, you wouldn't let your dying father be taken by them.

You screamed, you shout, you let venom spill out of your mouth by each profanity you threw at the soldiers and the king they claimed to serve. It didn't take long before the general noticed that you were one of the rascals forming a rebellion. Well, you didn't really need to be officially part of the revolution, just disagreeing was enough to make the general decide to take you instead of your old father.

You can still remember how he was trying to scream his lungs out, to stop the soldiers somehow.

This was it, right? The day, for you and possibly all these other commoners to die in the name of an asshole. How honoring.

Among you and other miserably unlucky individuals, there were all kinds of different people. From innocent, to criminals. From young to old, from poor to… Well, mildly not as poor. Nobles would never be subjected to this, you know that. All of these individuals were carried away by a carriage. All crammed into one little vehicle, away from the public sight.

After being far enough from the town and now deep within the forest, the soldiers commanded all of you to get out of the carriage as now you'll begin to walk straight to the mountain while carrying… Gold?

"- It's a gift from the king. Survive long enough, and you'll be able to take it with you." The general said, his tone being condescending as ever.

You could…. Technically run away, right now. They haven't really put any restrains in any of you-

"- Over there!" A soldier alerted the general, who looked little surprised by seeing two of your group running away with the gold in hands.

Without hesitation, or even a slight hint of empathy, the general shot both with his crossbow. Their bodies fall flat in the forest ground, with all that gold and jewelry accompanying them. All that gold being wasted and left behind, just like the bodies of the people carrying them.

You felt sick, the need to vomit was surfacing through your stomach. This- This is terrible!? This is so cruel! How can they continue to walk like nothing happened??

God, how did a once prospering kingdom has now fallen in such a low pit?

As you can imagine, the walk was torturous and it felt like it was going forever. Of course, a lot of questions were emerging about the strange situation.

One: how did the king know and was certain that the myth of the dragon was real and that the dragon was awake?

Two: why didn't he call his own army to attend to such issues instead of the common folk being forced to go with his wishes?

Actually, now that you think about it, why are there so few skilled, trained soldiers taking a bunch of people to a cave unprepared?

Carrying a bunch of gold for fucks sake, this stuff is heavy!

If it was truly a gift from the king to your group, then why were you obligated to carry it all the way to the cave? Sounds unreasonable and if anything, absolutely ridiculous. It would only slow your group down, and for what?!

Sounds like a trap to be…. Honest. Wait a minute-

"- Shit!" You whisper to yourself at the sudden realization that you're fucked, which unfortunately, caused a soldier that was near you to hear it.

"- Nothing sir, I just stabbed my foot in a rock." You weren't lying though. This whole walk bullshit your doing has destroyed your low quality sandals, and now you could basically feel the ground stabbing you every time you stept.

The soldier just grunted at you, and as much as you wished to take his sword and shove it up his bum, you couldn't help but go back to your original train of thought before you got interrupted.

You were going straight to death right? You're not supposed to fight a dragon, but rather serve as an offering?? What?!

You can't even speak or alert your fellow companions in any way. The last three people that have spoken without being directed to, were shot in the head.

The realization has sadly come in too late for you to make any plans now, as you forward as your group walk upwards, following the mountain's trail, you find yourself facing not only the entrance to a presumably dangerous cave infested with predators, but also the gates to your inevitable death.

You would now have to think of how to escape the soldiers and their arrows, or how to possibly make your death less painful. Being eaten by a dragon doesn't sound really fun.

When entering the cave you're met with more-

"- Are you fucking kidding me?!" Someone screamed, while easily accepting their death.

You couldn't help but agree with the person. While entering the cave, you're met with a great ravine, going in a spiral fashion deeper into the cave.

In other words, you have not only walked all the way up to a fucking mountain, but you would now need to get down into a creepy cave.

You almost considered asking for some eternal peace before remembering that your father's life was still in line. You just… Don't want to go away like this, you don't want your father to go like this.

And once again your group, that was now a lot shorter due to the amount of deaths along the way, was now following the general once again. Only this time, the soldiers were behind all of you, probably to guarantee no one ran away. Too late for that now anyway, so why even bother?

You didn't realize how you were on the very front of everyone, side by side with the man that was leading you to your doom.

You felt his eyes fall into your form a couple of times, but he never really turned his face to look at you. After a long silence of just a bunch of miserable people stepping closer to a terrible plan that was not well thought-out, he said:

"- You know it already. Right?" His voice was rough and still held the nonchalant tone that was written all over his face. You doubt this man could have ever smiled once in his life.

You almost choked with your own breathing, the nerve of this man! You couldn't help but let out the only thing you have wanted to say this whole time:

"- I hate you." You say as your eyes start to become a little watery. The feeling of desperation was eating you up ever since you entered the carriage, but only now you felt how bad the teeth of despair hurt.

"- I know kid. Me too." He responded, his tone never changed, even while saying that.

You guess he didn't really appreciate his job as much as you thought he did. Yet, you couldn't find in your heart to pity the man, as he was complicit in all of this mess. But I guess, you do hope for this man to find some sort of redemption, either presently or in his after life.

You still think he did a lot of bad things of course, his crimes are probably never gonna be forgiven. But just because of that, it didn't mean he couldn't start to do some good actions now, not for the sake of finding inner forgiveness, but for the sake of others. For the sake of the innocent people being not only met with unfair treatment, but also being ruled by a psychotic tyrant who is a complete imbecile. No wonder the queen and his son were missing for so long, you would probably have run away if you were them too.

When finally coming down, with your feet now hurting like a bitch, you can find some time for yourself to appreciate the beauty of this place.

You know, before you lose your head? To a freaking dragon??

Honestly, you at least hope that the stories you read were true, because holy fuck- Imagine how exhausted your body is from walking for what it feels like an eternity, holding jewelry made with gold, only to find an empty cave?

Then you would be able to go feral kill one or two soldiers before getting your ass beaten. As you don't have enough reason to just do that right now, right?

You expected to be met with disappointment, but what you truly saw while finally getting into the dragon's territory, you were able to not only feel enchanted by the magnitude of these treasure places, but also forget the danger of the situation, as you look around and remember the tales you read.

This is so much better than what you have imagined it to be like. It's… Mesmerising! It 's beautiful! The underground pond, the glowing crystals, the pile of gold, the stolen statues of the great warriors of your kingdom, golden weapons all scattered across the floor, the white feathered looking dragon staring down at you from his nest, that little tea set that is really cute and fragile yet it probably cost way more than your house, your clothes, and all of your furniture all together.

Oh no wait-

"- We came with what you asked for, Artemio." Said the general fast walking his way to be in between you and the beast.

To say you were freaking out would be an understatement. You knew dragons were huge, but you didn't expect it to be so… Huge! You know??

Oh my God, you're dead-

You looked around to see only you, your group of commoners ready to be probably eaten, and the general. And while looking for the soldiers, you noticed them trying to close the opening with a man built gate, created to keep the beast.

But obviously, that gate looks absolutely ridiculous, there is no way this guy couldn't destroy it by simply slapping it. It's quite laughable, yet…

You feel this is not just a coincidence or a bad made joke. You have a feeling they know the gate is essentially useless. It was really old, so, clearly this has been going on from quite some time.

Has… Has your kingdom been doing this for centuries?? Bringing offerings to please the dragon and beg it to sleep for more centuries to come?

"- This is absolute bullshit!" You screamed, not noticing how your heart was racing and your breathing had started to become frantic. You were panicking while coming to terms with the fact that your whole world was collapsing in front of your eyes. Your scream clearly surprised your fellow companions, yet it didn't surprise the dragon or the general.

The dragon had, well, a dragon face, so you have no idea what it was thinking, and the general was still with the same non-expressive face since the beginning of this stupid trip!

"- What?! You have nothing to say?? You brought us here to die, at least say something, you coward!" You were fuming with rage. How can a person like this be so annoying even when he is not saying anything.

He looks at you with an understanding expression, yet you don't think about what it could mean as you reach to one of the many golden weapons spread around across the floor. They were heavy and quite frankly completely useless, yet you still hold into that golden sword like your life depended on it.

And it did, actually.

Have you gone insane or just completely blind with rage and the instinct of survival? You're not sure just yet, but you'll lose your last bit of sanity to stand your ground.

You aren't going down without a fight.

"- Come at me, you big bird!" You yelled, looking kinda epic and kinda goofy at the same time. You probably shouldn't insult a dragon who hasn't decided who he'll first, it may change his appetite.

Before the general could interfere with your foolish behavior, the one and only had spoken:

"- Where exactly is what we had agreed on?" Like in true entitled brat fashion, Artemio asked the general while putting his head in his pawn.

"- We had to eliminate a couple of the troublemakers. In the end some of the gold was left behind in the progress-"

"- No, I mean, where truly is what I asked for? The jewelry is quite frankly ugly, the gold coins don't matter as I already have plenty, and none of these humans look really edible. Or well… Appetising." You could swear a pouty face was appearing in Artemio's face, yet only one thing had taken your attention. That's the reason why they needed so many disposable people? Oh… Wait a minute, did the dragon just call everyone here too ugly to eat?

"- If you can't compromise with your promises, then I think we'll have to change the deal-" Artemio started getting up from his nest, stretching out like a cat.

"- Oh, please no, can't you just-" The general panicked, thinking that the dragon would destroy the village.

"- I want that one." Artemio said. Pointing at you.

"- What?" You looked behind you just in case you were in the way of someone else. No, you weren't.

"- Uhn… What?" Oh look, even the general was confused as you, and well, the entire cast of people that were thrown in this hell hole.

"- Yes, that one holding the spear."

"- Just… That one, or-"

"- Just that one. And I won't get out of the cave for at least a century, I promise!" He sounds and acts like both a child and a cat, preparing himself to pounce on its prey any moment now.

"- ….. Okay then, fair enough. It's your problem now kid." He said, making a motion for all the other captives to follow him. Which they gladly did, because, you know, they aren't the protagonist of the story.

"- What?! You can't leave me here, you bastard!!" You screamed, although subconsciously you already knew his answer.

"- I think I'm just doing that!" He screamed from the other side of the cave, fuckz they really didn't waste no time at all, did they?

Sigh, who are you kidding? If you were one of them, you would have ran away as fast as you could. At least some gave you sympathetic looks before going back to their "freedom".

You heard the heavy gate closing. Well, shit. It's you and him now.

You tried going back into your original threatening stance, but before you could, you saw a glimpse of Artemio coming in at full speed, taking no time to jump at you. This is it [Y/N], send your last prayers to your father and your old life before-

Before he starts licking you... like a dog? What?

He pauses and you tense up, looking up and seeing a dragon powerful enough to destroy villages, looking at you like a precious little gift.

Artemio picks you up and hugs you in an almost bone breaking hug. Confused and frustrated with how the situation was going, you asked:

"- A-Aren't you going to kill me?" Yes, it was a pathetic question, if a dragon isn't killing you, then why ask it to do it??

"- I have been so lonely since the last human that I chose! I usually prefer to have many friends around but all of the other options seemed so boring, you know?" His voice is oddly cheerful and sweet to someone that sees humans as pets, or "friends". So… What is really going on here?

"- I thought you ate people." You said, still frustrated that you were betrayed and lied to through this entire day.

"- Well, I guess I can eat humans-" Says the giant bird-lizard acting like a child trying to lie about doing something wrong- "- But I really don't like doing it, I promise!"

"- I just wanted someone to play with, you know? All the dragons that I know are just so boring and take everything seriously." He huffed in annoyance.

"- Well… Do you-" You started questioning if you really want to to know the answer, but curiosity sure is killing this cat!- "- What happened to the other humans that were here?"

"- Oh, they… Uhn, they died, because of your shirt lifespan and all ya know." He responded.

"- Oh… Then why did the soldiers bring us here saying you were going to eat us?" Why not go full balls in and ask everything, right?

"- It's- Sigh, it's really embarrassing, but I didn't know any other way of how to ask for company down here." He said shyly, which only confirmed your suspicion of this being complete bullshit.

"- And you threaten to burn a whole kingdom just because of that?" You asked.

"- Yes!" He answered with no shame whatsoever. This guy was a dog wearing a dragon costume, you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"- Sigh, oh my God…"

"- Hey, uhn, what's your name?" Artemio spoke, he thought that he should also ask questions as he wants to be able to enjoy every second with his new pet.

"- It is [Y/N]. And you're Artemio, right?" You can't believe any of this, really. You went from an absolutely terrible life or death situation, to a… Well, you can't even tell what the hell is going on anymore!

"- [Y/N].... [Y/N]! [Y/N], that's such a good name!" The excited dragon repeated your name multiple times before interrupting your peace once again. You can't be mad at him, but-

Come on, you needed some time to accept everything that just went down. You didn't even notice you were on the floor until Artemio was in front of your view again.

"- [Y/N]!" He was so easy to please, that just saying your name was fun to him.

"- Sigh… Hey Artemio." You sighed as there was no way in hell this dragon would leave you to deal with this weird feeling of emptiness arising in your chest.

"- What do you want to do now?" He asked cheerfully, but not completely oblivious to your feelings of being abandoned underground with him by force.

You stayed silent for a second, again, trying to come with terms with this new lifestyle that you were subjected to. You technically could ask Artemio to open the gate, he doesn't seem to have any intention of hurting you. But who knows? He has a different point of view in this whole thing than you do.

Silence was taking over the cave, but not exactly an awkward silence, just… A comforting one.

The water dripped from the ceiling. You felt the ground underneath you shake a little as Artemio followed your "guidance". He decided to lay on his back near you.

He wasn't really doing any self reflection at all, he just wanted to join in with you, yet all he could think is how happy he is to have someone else to spend time with.

You may only see him slightly from the corner of your eyes, yet you still feel a little, strange, by seeing a dragon mimic your ways.

You don't feel nessecerally homesick, but you do miss your father. You absolutely hate the idea of coming back to the kingdom, but… If you could see your father one last time, and probably help him with the gold that is in this place….

Maybe you could even-!.....

"- Artemio."

"- Yes, [Y/N]!*

"- AAH!" He turned himself to meet your face so fast that you whimpered because of his sudden motion.

He was going to check if you were okay, but you stopped him showing that you were fine, just a little spooked.

"- Hey, Artemio-" You said again, as you were still reformulating your question in your head-

"- Do you know how to burn an entire castle?"

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[orangegreet]

Photo by Peter Chiykowski on Unsplash

It was an impulsive decision she made, veering off the road.

Trotting her tired pony through the bog, Alina thought to reach the pond directly by cutting through the grounds.

She only realized the graveness of her error when the beast whined, its hooves stuck in the thick mud.

Alina cast a glance above at the unforgiving sky.

Meaning only to get the weary little pony a drink, she ended up stranded in the treacherous earth between road and house where few could notice her.

In earnest, she raised pleading cries toward the manor—pleas which were lost as the rain began to fall.

All that could be heard were the sheaths of water which fell in cascading waves over the grounds.

The vast estate around her might have been beautiful with the help of the sun gleaming down on its features but in the gloom of autumn dusk and the haze of rainfall, everything was colored into shades of gray and black.

How terrible this journey had become. A sickly old pony for a sickly little woman. Together for a week of travel from their coastal home in the south and up into the ever-dreary wilds of the north country. It had been a long, arduous journey.

Only now to be nearly swallowed by the grounds of Blyth Fell? It was a poor omen.

How deeply troubling to be so far north from everything she had ever known and completely at a loss for what to do next. Would she die here, helpless and sodden?

The thought throttled her heart and she melted into a shroud of self-pity.

No one would hear her. No one would see her what with the rain and the closing of the day. She would surely catch her death within the hour.

Or perhaps she would grow so weak as to slip off her horse and become pulled into the earth herself where the mud would expand into her ears, her nose, her throat.

Drowning in sludge on the eve of her employment—it would be a fitting end to her tragic little life.

When her tears began to fall, she was thankful they could blend in with the rain drops running down her face; the tears and droplets would be fast friends in their wallowing.

So preoccupied was she that when two large hands clamped around her waist, she shrieked in fright and kicked at her assailant.

“Calm yourself, blamed woman!” The gruff voice shouted above the din of the storm.

Sharp eyes cut into her own, black and menacing to her enervated state.

“You are in need of assistance and I am unfortunate enough to be passing by.” He told her. Water covered his face and dripped from his nose and his jaw.

Alina was dumbstruck by his beauty.

Enough that her tears abated for the moment.

“I will have to set you by the carriage.” The man continued.

Her eyes lingered on the dark, wet locks curling from under the brim of his hat. She nodded in acquiescence though he had already begun to tuck her over his arm like a paper doll and trudge up the hill.

A great, black carriage stood at the top of the slope, door ajar and horses nudging at the road in impatience.

“Inside.” He commanded, setting her down with haste. Alina stepped into the shelter obediently and watched as the man worked his way back to the front of the coach.

The driver already had one of the horses unhitched and together the two men trailed the steed back down the hill toward her distressed pony, stopping just short of the bog land.

Alina tried to watch their progress through the carriage window, eyes squinting through the bleary haze.

After a few minutes she thought she saw her that her pony had drifted further away even as the black stallion veered back.

The window fogged. She wiped it away with her wet sleeve and pressed closer. Her sweet, dear little pony was now very deep in mud. The base of its hauches no longer visible.

The carriage door swung open and she shrieked.

The dark haired man cast her a haughty look and then shifted into the carriage, moving across from her while he rummaged in his belongings beneath the bench.

“Ah, there.” He was holding a long musket aloft with one hand and stuffing the muzzle with another.

“Should be quite fine.” He leveled the rifle and, as if remembering her existence, looked up again, “Ah, yes. I’m afraid the beast will need to be put down. Look away, if it please you.”

It did not seem to make a difference for him.

His eyes skipped right over the horrified look on Alina’s face and he swept out of the coach again, door rattling in his wake.

The black tails of his coat billowed behind him in the wind and she swore he adjusted his hat into a perfect tilt as he balanced the firearm and aimed.

Bang.

Even the tragic sound of mercy was muffled by the rain.

Alina was too shocked to make any noise. Mouth agape, she watched the blurry figures through the window as they slogged back up the hill to reattach the black horse to his harness.

She was too shocked to do more than shuffle away from the door in a daze when the man stepped inside again.

Saddle bags dropped at her feet and he reached into the bench seat to remove a rag.

He tapped the front window once seated and the carriage took off again.

The pause in their journey suddenly felt as natural as if they had made a stop-off to pick wildflowers.

The man eyed her warily as he cleaned his gun.

Alina opened her mouth to speak and closed it several times, the carriage jostling her as she floundered for words.

“I never intended to…that is, I meant to...It seemed prudent to get the pony some water. We do not—that is to say…I never fathomed such terrain…” her hand covered her mouth in shame before she could continue.

“Hmm.” He smirked and returned to his task. “Well in your desire to care for the poor beast, you quite ensured it’s doom.”

Though tears sprang to her eyes at the condemnation, she found her anger at last and glared.

He chuckled in surprise. His face crinkled with mirth. Even in cruelty, he was beautiful.

“You are most welcome, by the way. For coming to your rescue.”

Great thanks indeed. The man was more monster than gentleman in her view.

Manners won out eventually and she mustered a gracious nod. Her words were still heavy in her chest.

The dark eyes remained on her, studying her features even as she forced her gaze back to the window.

“Pardon me, sir. My wits fled me for a few moments and now I am unsure. Could you deliver me to Blyth Fell? I should like to have walked from the road so as not to be an inconvenience. Or if your coachman would be so kind as to stop here, I can find my own way.”

Alina shifted to pick up the saddle bags which contained all her belongings. Everything left to her in the world.

“You are an orphan, are you not?” He was smirking at her again.

“How did you…” the cruelty of his smile cut through her question.

“I told my staff I wished for an orphaned governess this time.” He said, simply. “Our last one was far too home sick. All her free time spent holed up in her room writing letters to her sister or someone similar. I did not heed the particulars closely, you see.”

He examined the shine of his gun as he buffed. “Only her misery. That which she spread about the hall like a plague. It was a relief when she resigned her post.”

The way he looked at her was as a predator to cornered prey. Alina gulped.

Did he just kick his lips? A trick of the mind, surely.

Her words bubbled up from the tangle of her insides, “Then you are Lord Kirigan.”

He blinked and then smiled again, “Indeed. And your name, miss?”

“You know I am an orphan in your employ and you have yet to learn my name? I am hired to be governess to your children, am I not?” The venom with which the words whipped out of her mouth astonished them both.

Apparently, the little pony was not as forgotten to her as it was to her companion just now.

Alina reddened in her cheeks and ears while Lord Kirigan stared dumbfounded for a moment.

“I apologize, sir. It has been a long journey on my own and I have quite forgotten myself.”

He adjusted his collar and seemed to right himself at her admission. “Quite right. As if I am allotted the time to learn every detail of someone whom may or may not withstand the trial period in my employ.”

Alina’s heart raced under the threat. Enduring the long journey back south as a disgraced ex-governess was not comforting in the least.

She collected herself, straightened her posture and introduced herself.

“Miss Starkova.” The Lord held her name in his mouth a moment longer than usual and she was struck again by his dark eyes, watchful as they collected the details of her across from him.

“Unusual name for this part of the world. Am I to assume your credentials are adequate?”

A retort rose to her mind and she bit it back, nodding and listing off the education and training she accomplished in Weymouth. Alina would need to tamp this urge to defy him if she intended to keep her employ beyond the carriage ride.

As if she had manifested the ending with the thought, the carriage came to a stop.

Her head tilted as she looked up at the manor through the window. Lord Kirigan made no move to leave, watching her first with open curiosity and then a scowl.

The coachman opened the carriage door and Kirigan exited.

The rain had morphed into a light drizzle. The Lord straightened his coat before turning back to the carriage and offered his hand to the new governess.

Hesitating for only a moment, Alina’s fingers slid over his warm palm.

Once more, her eyes met his. A heartbeat of energy or perhaps merely her pulse could be felt in the space where they touched. He narrowed his gaze at her and then wrenched his eyes away, dropping her hand after she descended the carriage.

“Ivan will see to your bags.” Lord Kirigan called over his shoulder as he entered the house. “Welcome to Blyth Fell, Miss Starkova.”

Alina watched him recede into the dark entry before her, unable to look away even as the drizzling rain collected at her brow and ran down her face.