#see I played once normally then I went back after I heard about the secret boss

[dailyunstableeve]

She's just dropping by to gear up

Jill valentine x cashier/soldier!Fem!reader (at the gas station)

tw: This contains smut, interact with caution. nsfw, some breast play, fingering, dom!Jill, sub!reader, some alcohol, Jill loves to tease, kinda a fall in love in first sight

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⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

“Day 258,” you signed, crossing out a date off your notebook. Your work here has become more and more boring, can't help it, you gotta pay the rent or else you'll be on the street, turning into a zombie.

Ew, thinking of it makes you shiver.

Lucky for you, there's not much people actually come to this gas station for anything so it allows you to blast music, when all you need to do is keep this place clean. Afterall, this is not just some normal gas station by the road. This gas station is also counted as a safe zone from the virus, if zombies start to roam around this area, which means things get way out of hand.

It's not everyday a new virus is created.

From the day you've been assigned here, it's only Chris who appears here, he’s on mission more than anyone, eventually both of you become friends. Sometimes he would invite you to have a drink with him.

Other than that, taking out the trash has never been your favourite of all the stuff you gotta do, no one likes going to the dark back space of the station, you really should push the trash bin next to the station at least there's a little light there.

You heard a car stopped in front of the gas station that made you jump and run back to the cashier. It's a truck, looks very dirty, you silently judge it but when a woman with short hair walks out from the truck, you keep your judgement away.

“Welcome!” You put on your smile.

Oh my gosh, finally a customer after so many days.

“Hi, I would like to stock up,” The woman said, holding her s.t.a.r.s badge up, Jill Valentine, she looked so tired.

If only I can help her rest.

“Yeah, follow me,” you swiftly shut down the gas station, pressing the button under the cashier, then a secret room appeared, “everything you need should be there.”

“Thank you.”

You watched her walk down the stairs to the room then you followed behind.

“So, why is a girl like you here?” Jill asked you as she's checking up on the stocks.

“Well, the pay is high, and I need to pay rent,” you shrugged your shoulders.

“Won't it be boring? Missing out on the actions?”

“Well if it takes for someone like you to show up here, I'm pretty sure it's worth it,” you chuckled.

To look closely, she's just too hot for you to not take your eyes off, you can't stop staring at her.

“Say, too busy to catch a date after whatever you're gonna do after?” You asked, believing your confidence could get you a date with Jill.

“That will depend on if I made it back alive or not,” she softly chuckled.

“I pray for your return, Jill.”

“Thank you.”

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

A week has gone by, you're still hopelessly waiting for Jill to appear, for once you were looking forward to getting a date, especially since you work in a place that's basically isolated from the city. The whole week gave you a lot of time to think about what kind of date you and Jill could do, but also at the same time, who will take over your place if you asked for a leave? Chris is the first name that appears since you only know him but you can't possibly ask him for that because you're gonna go on a date and he's actually higher rank than you are.

Oh Jill.

You wanted to see her so badly, your mind has been nothing but her face projecting everything and everywhere.

“Y/N.”

“Oh Chris, stock up?”

“No, not today, I'm taking the time to rest,” he bitterly smiled. All those missions he went to must be hard for him, at some point you can't even think what you would do if you were sent to fight zombies.

“Well, if they are asking for you, everything you need is here to get ready,” you laughed and brought out your secret stash, “do you think you'll be able to drink?”

“Call it your lucky day today.”

Three bottles have been emptied out, and Chris is on the fourth bottle.

“Ugh, I am so needed to get my tolerance up,” you complained at your poor tolerances with alcohol.

“Don't beat yourself up, you did better than last time,” Chris laughed.

“Sometimes, I feel like it's a great idea they don't have cameras here, only for the road outside,” you fell onto the counter, the alcohol slowly kicking in, causing your vision to turn wobbly.

“Chris, do you happen to know someone called Jill Valentine?” You asked.

“Jill, yeah I know her, she's my friend.”

“Is she doing okay? I wanted to see her,” you mumbled.

“How do you know Jill in the first place?”

“She stopped by to stock up,” you answered.

“She just recently reported in from her last mission.”

“I see.”

Jill must've been taking a rest after the mission, she'll appear when she is finished. That's what you told yourself.

An hour later, Chris is fully defeated by the alcohol, you have to drag him down to the basement room to let him rest there while you're still trying to sober up. When you got back up to the surface, you spotted a motorcycle outside the gas station and someone was on it. You thought it's someone asking for directions so you talked to them through the small window.

“Hi, sorry the station is closed at the moment,” you speak through the small window, if Chris isn't on a mission, no one is.

“I'm here to pick up my date,” that familiar voice that has been dangling onto your mind for the past few days.

“Jill?” you excitedly asked, hop out from the shop.

“Is this a bad time?” She asked.

“No, not exactly, it's just that I have a drunk passed out Chris Redfield down the basement,” you laughed.

“Chris? What's he doing here?”

“Well, to be honest, it's usually just him showing up here to stock up so eventually we became friends,” you explained.

“So, I'm taking it that you can't leave?” Jill asked.

“I can't, Chris is here and I'm actually still trying to sober up,” you awkwardly chuckled.

“That's alright, we can chill here.”

“I'm so sorry if you have any plans for today, I'm sure next time we can do it.”

Just like that, you and Jill had the date on top of the rooftop, it wasn't really bad, both of you took the chance to know more about each other.

“Well, I know I'm still trying to sober up, but can't spoil the fun for you,” you brought up the remaining alcohol that's left from you and Chris.

Both of you think that it would be fun if you and Jill play some games, such as truth and dare, so the game is on. You started out with asking simple truth and dare for Jill, taking it as a chance to try to know her better, Jill did the same, until you decided you wanted to do something more.

“Truth,” Jill chooses.

“Jill, why did you choose to be on this date?”

“Is that even a question that can be asked?” She frowned, hiding that slight blush off her face.

“C'mon, I'll let you ask the similar question to me later.”

“Well, you're cute, and you have the confidence to ask me out on a date, and from all those talks we had just now, you're an incredible person, and I would love to know you more,” Jill answered.

You hope it's illegal because of how Jill is making you blush at the moment.

“Truth or Dare?” Jill looked at you.

“Dare.”

“Do the one thing you wanted to do so badly right now,” Jill smirked.

“Oh wow, okay, embrace yourself then,” you chuckled as you moved from your seat, moving closer to Jill, both of you looked at each other as you leaned forward for a kiss on her cheek.

You and Jill hold eye contact, she rested her hand on your cheek, looking into your eyes then she leaned forwards, left a kiss on your lip. You returned one back, and she did the same. Jill pulled you closer towards her as she kissed you.

Jill slowly pulled away, holding your hands and rushed down to the basement, a different room from where Chris is sleeping in, she slammed the door, inviting you to join her on the bed that's supposed for pass by soldiers to rest in.

You can feel her touch, slowly caressingly running up and down your body as her soft cherry lip pressing onto yours, giving you the kisses you'll never forget. Her kisses were harsh but yet sweet, brushing your hair to the side as she played with your ear, giving that tingling feeling but all you can focus on is her lip, needing every taste of it.

Jill slowly moved her hand inside your top, drawing circles on your cute tummy, drawing a sensation in you, her hand moved more further up, lifting up your top, revealing that black lace bra. Jill breaks the kiss as she turns her focus to your body, “what a gorgeous you are, sweetie,” as she's sitting on you, looking down. Jill admired your body a little longer, when she met your eyes again, she could see the desire you are wishing so badly for.

You wanted to kiss Jill so badly.

You wanted her touch everywhere on your body.

You wanted to feel her.

You wanted to be hers.

But Jill just looked at you, with a small smirk on her face, she's enjoying this.

“Please Jill,” you mumbled, you felt the heat on your face so you tried to hide your reddened face as you tried to form words.

“Yeah, sweetie?”

You know, she wants you to use your words to beg for her, you slipped your needy side to Jill and now she’s waiting for you to tell her what you need.

“Manage to get the conversation out for a date, can't say what's next?” Jill leaned closer, whispered in your ear, fingertip drawing around your body, teasing your poor desire.

You started to blame the alcohol you drank with Chris just now, you can't think straight.

“I want you Jill,” you looked into her blue eyes, babbling out the words, “I need you Jill, I want to feel you, so badly.”

“Good girl.”

Jill single handedly unhooked your bra, removing every pieces clothings of yours, leaving your naked body bare on the bed. Her hand cupped up your breast as she gently sucked on it, while her other hand fiddled the other lonely breast, muffled moans started to fall out from your mouth, you had your mouth covered, afraid that Chris would hear you.

“It's okay, no one is going to hear us,” she looked at you, admiring the expression you have on your face at the moment, then continued back what she's doing.

You couldn't tell how long it has been for Jill enjoying her time with your breast, she made you feel so good but yet a part of your body is throating for more.

“You gotta use your words to ask for what you want,” Jill pinned down your lower body, you immediately looked down and realised what you did, a dark spot stained on her jeans.

“I want you Jill.”

“Where?”

You held onto her hand as you guided her to the between of your thighs, “here please.”

Jill leans in for more kisses as her hand continues drawing circles the area between your thighs, you wish her to touch, but she likes to tease you a little longer before giving you what you ask for. You squirmed under her touches, you started to beg Jill, mumbling words into her ears, letting her know just how badly you wanted her.

Jill slowly inserted her middle finger in your cunt, spreading up your inside, your body squirmed as you gripped on both of her shoulders, she started to push it more deeper in, as her thumb rubbing on your sensitive clit. Jill could feel every twitch you made, your sweet moans getting louder and louder in her ears, babbling words that can't be understood as she picked up her pace.

Your hip started to lean upwards to Jill, she knows this movement of yours proves that you're close so she pulled away, leaving you groaning and whimpering, asking why she pulled away. You know damn well the answer, she loves to tease and she will take every opportunity she has to tease you until she thinks you deserve to cum.

Jill gives your clit a few gentle rubs, then spreads your inside with two fingers this time. Jill quickly picks back up the pace, your slick juice dripping down from her hand and your thighs, the sloopy sound as Jill thrusted her finger in, hitting the spot, tells just how wet you are. Jill found your mumbling as you're trying your best to cum, cute. She wanted to tease you so much more until you can't even say anything but continually cumming on her fingers but you've been a good girl for her.

“I love you Y/N,” she planted kisses around your neck, your collarbone, your breast, your arch up tummy.

“I love you too Jill,” your arm wrapped around her shoulder, head resting on Jill's shoulder, mumbling her name with the mix of your moans.

“I'm gonna- cum,” you mumbled out, hooked your legs around Jill's waist, gripping harder onto her shirt.

“Cum for me sweetie, cum for me, Y/N,” she whispered into your ear.

Your eyes roll back as your head throws back while you are still gripping onto Jill's shoulder, your hip leans upwards and stays there for a while as you feel the electric shock running through your body and letting out the loudest moans.

Your body immediately flopped back on the bed, trying your best to catch your breath. You could feel Jill caressingly brushing your hair, a soft kiss on your lip, “you did a great job.”

“I love you Jill.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

Hands holding onto each other, Jill flopped on the bed together with you, pulling you closer so she could cuddle with you.

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an: Here's my pardon approach, this is the first time working on the smut, please pardon me for any mistake I've made, and ofc, do let me know which part could be improve so I can learn from my mistake ;-; I hope you guys somehow did enjoyed it ❤️

Masterlist

Imagine this is how it ended:

“And I might have lied,” Jill softly chuckled.

“What did you lie about?”

“The room is not soundproof.”

“Jill!” You jolt up, looking at her.

“I'm pretty sure Chris is still asleep at the moment,” Jill pulled you back into her arms, “we'll worry about it later.”

[reds-fluff-extravaganza]

Pico x pop star!reader

Based off headcanons i wrote

There was one thing that you have yet to mention to Pico, and that was the fact that you were a pop star. You hadn’t told him yet, as you were afraid of how he would react. Besides, you wanted to have a sense of normalcy when it came to dating, and without telling him your little secret, everything was fine and normal.

“I’ll be back later this evening, Pico.” You called out to your boyfriend, who was currently on the couch, watching you leave.

“Alright, just… stay safe out there.”

“I will, don’t worry.” You smiled faintly and went over to him, kissed his cheek, and walked out the house, closing the door behind you before making your way to your destination: the arena nearby, which was fortunately going to be inside. As much as you like outside concerts, you would prefer indoors as you’re not exposed to the elements such as the wind.

Once inside, you made your way to the stage, as everything was already set up for you beforehand. You didn’t mind helping if it wasn’t, though.

“Alright, let’s do this.” You said, hyping yourself up as you walked up the stairs to the stage, a smile on your face as you walked up to the microphone before picking it up, the crowd cheering before you can even get a word out. The music started to play and you got ready to start the first song.

What you didn’t know, however, was after you had left, Pico had gotten a call for a new job, which was at the nearby arena. The same arena you were performing at, but he had no idea about that. He just took the job per usual and got himself ready before heading out. As Pico got closer to the arena, he could hear music playing rather loudly, which would be perfect.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.” He mumbled as he slipped inside. As he made his way through the inside of the arena, he started hearing a familiar voice. As he started walking past the main area, he stopped as he looked at the stage.

“Holy shit, is that Y/n?” Pico asked himself, looking towards the stage, squinting a bit as if to get a better look. It was then he realized that yes, it was indeed you! “It really is them.” He was rather shocked as he thought about one thing: you’re a pop star. He is your boyfriend. He’s been dating a pop star all this time, and he had no idea until now.

“Well that’s certainly a surprise.” He chuckled a bit to himself, finding himself unable to finish the job. While you were aware of what he did, he didn’t want to scare you off or upset you, as his job involved killing one of the backstage staff. So instead, he just decided to chill in the crowd listening to you sing. He actually really liked your singing, you sounded really good!

After the concert was over, and you were packing up to leave, you felt a tap on your shoulder, which made you turn around to find Pico behind you.

“Wha-? Pico? What are you doing here?” You were more surprised than anything to see him here. Pico wasn’t going to tell you the real reason he was here, so he quickly made something up,

“Oh, i just happened to be nearby and i heard the music, so here i am.”

“I see. I’m not mad or anything, just genuinely surprised.”

“Yeah, so am i. You’re a pop star, and you’ve never told me.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry about that, i just… wanted a sense of normalcy when it came to dating, and because you didn’t know, it made things simple for me, for us.”

“Y/n.” Pico took your hand into his own. “Did you really think that I would anything stupid or crazy just because i knew about what you do?”

“Well… no. I was going to tell you eventually but i just… never got around to it.”

“It’s alright, these things happen.” You smiled softly and pulled him into a hug, which had caught him off guard, but he hugged you in return. He was right. While you may not have to tell each other everything, as long as you communicate well with each other, you would be happy and okay.

“You’re right. Again, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“It’s fine, really. I love you for you, Y/n. Pop Star or not, i would still love you.”

“Thank you, Pico, i really do appreciate that, and i love you too.” You kissed his cheek.

“Now come on, let’s get home and, i dunno, have some dinner and find something to watch?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” You smiled faintly and with Pico’s help, you packed up the rest of your things, and made your way back home.

[ruskaroma]

omg omg (i really need professional help) i had this Vision of dark+DARK+mean!john wick learning about an asshole who bullied their bunny-really-the-nicest-human-being!reader back during her school years (the reader cluelessly mentions it during conversation). john is not just angry outraged etc, he is The Rage, The War, The Biblical Day of Wrath, so he finds that guy, beats/tortures the living shit out of him and then brings his absolutely clueless little pretty bunny so that she could finish him. john is behind the reader, his arms wrapped around her arms, his hands on her shaking hands holding a gun pointing at the barely breathing man tied to a chair. the reader is crying begging to stop, and john goes "he deserves it, honey <3. now, right kneecap. go, princess, don't let me down".

Oh my god I have something for you.

Let’s give it a very dark twist, shall we? We’ll stick to this concept, but let’s make it even darker.

TW: mentions of past sexual and physical abuse, blood and gore, graphic depiction of torture, john being a very very mean man like he is fucked in the head may god bless his soul, john is also forcefully making the reader kill the man so there’s that.

It was a slip of your tongue. You didn’t notice it, but John surely did. You were used to rambling your thoughts away, a habbit that John adores so much, hearing your voice and telling him everything that’s in your head, because it means you’re not keeping any secrets from him.

A supposed to be peaceful Saturday night ruined John’s whole week, but he didn’t let it show. He kept himself composed around you, smiling so softly when you’d share a random fact about the things you’re holding or whatever comes in mind. He’s a master in the arts of keeping his expression controlled despite his emotions practically clawing their way out of his fucking lungs.

Your head was on his lap as he brushed your hair with his long fingers softly. For a hand that’s killed too many people to count, it’s surprisingly merciful around you. A shitty horror movie was playing on the TV but your attention quickly diverted to somewhere else when you watched a rather familiar scene in the film.

“Oh, man, that sucks. I know how it feels, I used to get hit by my ex-boyfriend all the time.”

What the fuck, John thought. His fingers stopped their movements as he furrowed his eyebrows. You said it as a whisper too but he heard it. He heard it fucking clearly.

“What?”

“Huh?” You moved your head to look up to him. “You said something?”

“You did,” John pointed out. “About your ex-boyfriend. What did you say?”

“Ohhh,” you said in realization, but your tone was calm. Like it was the most fucking normal thing to say in a conversation. “Yeah, he was mean. He used to hit me every time I made a very small mistake, but he said sorry when we broke up.”

John didn’t know what to say. He was frozen, trying to comprehend the words that were being thrown at him all at once.

His baby – the love of his life, someone who cannot even hurt a fucking ant – just dropped a bomb that she was a victim of abuse.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” John tried to keep his voice leveled, soft, as he placed a large hand on your cheek and pulled you up so he could take a good look at your face.

“Well, you didn’t ask. And it’s not like it mattered anymore. I went to therapy and everything was back to normal.”

“No, that’s not –” he closed his eyes in frustration, trying so hard to keep his shit together. “Did he do anything else? Where is he now?”

“He’s–he’s doing fine. I don’t know where he is, it’s been awhile since we’ve gotten in touch.”

John could hear the tremble in your voice, like you knew what was going to come, like you knew what he’s going to do.

He didn’t answer after you said that. He looked away from you, put his attention back to the television.

You shrugged it off, hoping he would let it go.

*

He did not, in fact, let it go.

You came home one day after work to see him being rather... cheery than usual. It was unusual in itself. John being particularly cheery was not something you see in your everyday life.

He had already cooked dinner when you arrived, ate it beside you with an arm around your shoulders. He was also crooning at your ears, asking about your day if something special happened.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Your eyebrows flew up, curious yet amused. Is this why he was cheery all of a sudden?

He led you to his basement – a place where you’re never allowed to go, always bolted shut and completely restricted to you. You were getting a pretty bad feeling about this.

“What–what are we doing here, John?”

Again, he didn’t answer. You could see the grim, dark expression on his face as he opened the door. The face you only ever see when he was just coming back from a long, tiring day at work. The face you only see you know he just slaughtered someone.

Turns out, he did.

Not exactly slaughtered, but close enough.

The man who made you go through hell for years, tied up in a chair in the middle of the room, missing all his fingers on both his feet and hands.

“John, what the–”

Your boyfriend pushed a heavy pistol in your hand, and your heart is beating so hard inside your chest you couldn’t speak properly. You haven’t yet got the time to comprehend what was happening. It was all too fast.

“Pull it.”

“J-John, please don’t–”

“Pull it,” John repeated. He didn’t like repeating himself. You know this. He was standing behind you, his chest pressing against your back, warm and broad and his voice sounded so menice and fucking evil and– “Pull it, baby, before I do it myself.”

“Why are you–” your voice was shaking as well as your hands. You wanted to drop the weapon but you knew it wouldn’t do you any good, not when John was just behind you. “Why are you doing this, John? Please let him–let him go, it was a long time ago–”

“I don’t care,” he said simply, one large hand sneaking down to grab your wrist that’s holding the gun, pointing it directly at the man who’s – Jesus, was he still alive? You saw him move, he flinched, then let out a cough that made more blood from his mouth drip onto his lap. “I haven’t killed him yet because that’s your job.”

“N-No–” tears were forming into your eyes. The feeling of John’s hand gripping yours was already too much to bear, much worse pointing it to the man who abused and neglected you during your relationship, but why were you feeling bad? “John, I–I don’t w-want to, John, please, I don’t want–”

John sighed, disappointed, but he didn’t let you go. Instead, he leaned down closer to your ear and pressed a soft kiss there. His beard tickled, making you flinch and let out a shaky breath as you gulped hard.

“John, he–I know you’re doing this because you think it’s best, but I–I promise you that it’s not worth it–it’s in the past and, and–”

“Excuses, excuses,” John whispered, standing straight and taking a step away from you, positioning himself in front of the gun. “Here you are, begging for the life of the man who abused you in the past. Don’t you think that sounds absolutely ridiculous, baby?”

“It’s not–it’s not ridiculous, John, I promised! We–we talked one time after our breakup and he–he apologized for everything, I swear–I swear, John, it was all in the past–”

John cut off your rambling with an evil stare, and it was so unlike him that it scared you right to the very core. “Pull the trigger or I will. I’ll put a fucking hole in his head, saw it off and send it to his little wife and children back in Vegas.”

“John–” you sobbed. “John, please–”

“Did you know that I made him confess every diabolical shit that he’d done to you every time I chop off one of his fingers?” John said it in such a calm and steady tone that it made you only afraid of him even more. “I chopped all his fingers, and he still won’t stop confessing more. Can you believe that?”

“I already forgave him–I already forgave him, John, this wasn’t necessary–”

“It won’t be the same if I’m the one who pulls the trigger now, would it? It wouldn’t be fair, because I’m not the one who suffered under his hands,” John pushed even further, walking back to his original position behind you, gripping your arm and pointing the pistol directly at his head. “If you don’t pull that fucking trigger in the next five second, I’ll let you use a chainsaw to do it and trust me when I say you wouldn’t want it messy.”

You gulped, feeling yourself grow more and more afraid as John stood behind you. He was radiating anger, but he was keeping it at bay, though his swear words might be some of the leakage of his emotions he couldn’t contain any longer.

“I don’t want–don’t make me d-do this, John–”

“One...”

“John, please–”

“Two....” His voice was scary. Deep and level, and the grip on your arm tightened. You felt suffocated.

“I’m gonna throw u-up if I–”

“Three...” He was getting agitated.

The man’s head rose up from his position earlier to meet your eyes, and you swore you felt your stomach churn. His eyes were fucking gone.

The man opened his mouth to speak and a weak voice came. “D-Don’t–”

You pulled the trigger.

“There’s my little bunny.”

You dropped the gun as soon as his brains flew against your face and onto the wall, painting it red. You couldn’t bear to watch any further. You turned with a sob and buried your face in John’s chest, crying hysterically as he soothed you calmly by petting your head.

“Good girl. You did so fucking good, I’m so proud of you.”

[heraxic]

re8 as classical music

badly explained cause its 2am and i dont know musical terms.

Btw if anyone has any notes or other songs that would fit them id love to see it-

Ethan: Tchaikovsky - Marche Slave

Slow start, Ethan is unknowingly ensnared in a trap. As he realizes the danger Rose (and himself) are in the song becomes tragic and determined. Fastpaced strings, frantic beats —like prey escaping from predator— keeps escalating into something more and more insurmountable. A hopeful jingle is heard as Ethan finds out he can still save his daughter. A heroic theme plays as he overcomes the horrors despite it all (a sense of control over the situation is marked by highpitched anxious flutes superimposed by a deep stable horn). Then comes the first faceoff with Miranda who taunts him and Ethan’s tragic hero theme comes to a grinding halt as his heart gets pulled out of his chest. The drums pick up again and the little soldier is off to his final battle.

Mia: Claude Debussy - Clair De Lune

Sadly the real Mia doesn’t appear much. In the Winters home, Ethan writes that Mia doesn’t want to talk about what they went through in Louisiana, which leaves him with a lot of questions unanswered. In the flashback where she desperately tries reaching out saying ‘𝘺𝘰𝘶 matter’, she still can’t help keeping secrets- maybe out of fear that Ethan wouldn’t let it go (being extremely persistent) and they’d never return to normal. The song is heartbreaking and sad as she struggles coming to terms with the guilt and grief over what she’s done and what the one she loves went through because of it. On a last somber note, her child, who takes after her father both in looks and unresolved powers, is all she has left.

Rose: Saint-Saëns - Le Cygne

A little girl whos only ever known unconditional, all encompassing love. Even before her birth, it was known that her life would be full of uncertainty. Though stolen away for possessing powers she’s not even aware of yet, she continues to live and provide a beacon of hope for her family.

Chris: Richard Wagner - Ride of the Valkyries

Comes in the dead of night and rains hell on the Winters home. In his eyes, he’s doing the right thing, but has made himself the villain to the one he was trying to protect (victorious trumpets superimposed by high fearful strings). The transport gets intercepted by Miranda and the music falls. Once Chris finally explains himself to Ethan they’re allowed a brief bit of victory (steadier horn) as their combined efforts take down Miranda’s last line of defense (Heisenberg). In the end, Chris has to live with the victory of taking down the megamycete, the guilt and grief over Ethan’s death/sacrifice, and the troubling news from BSAA. A tainted victory.

Alcina: Tchaikovsky - Swan Lake

Appears first as a noble elegant socialite. She’s at the height of her power, owns a castle and three daughters and believes herself to be Miranda’s favorite. It’s business as usual, calm serene music. Suddenly an outsider has made his way into her home, killing her daughters one by one. She reaches out to Miranda, who only cares about the stupid ceremony, and realizes everything she knew was a lie. Anger and frustration builds. The music deepens, falls and rises again as she transforms, tries taking revenge on Ethan and fails, having lost everything in one evening.

Bela, Cassandra, Daniela: Rimsky Korsakov - Flight of the Bumblebee

Self explanatory. Hurried, manic and playful.

Donna: Tchaikovsky - Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy

Entrancing but with eerie insidious undertones. Fitting for the childlike dollmaker and her little porcelain friends. Ends with a fast and chilling theme for the twisted game of hide and seek

Moreau: Edvard Grieg - Hall of the Mountain King

Quiet, lumbering and slow. Ethan takes the Rose flask back easily; threatened with losing Mother Miranda it very quickly escalates as panic sets in and Moreau throws everything he has at him. The music swells and ends with a bang.

Karl: Aram Khachaturian - Masquerade Suite

A bold start. Right from the beginning he exudes arrogance, charisma and danger. He plays nice in front of Miranda with a waltz that picks up in intensity when putting Ethan through his first gauntlet. Then the tone gets deeper and quieter for a moment, as he plots in secret; it’s finally time to set his plan in action. It’s a race to the finish line as Ethan tears through the other lords, unknowingly playing right into Miranda’s plan. Realizing he could be a particularly useful asset/ally, Heisenberg puts him through the second gauntlet. The music is sadistically playful as he tests his will and endurance. Upon failing to recruit Ethan, the music picks up for the third gauntlet and ends with a bang, as Karl dies at the hands of Miranda.

Duke: Georges Bizet - Votre Toast

A friendly face unfitting in a place such as this. The upbeat and energetic theme sticks out like a sore thumb among the others. Whimsy and grandiosity acts as a brilliant facade for his enigmatic true nature. Though the jolly merchant schtick may be a lie, he always delivers on service.

Miranda: Sergei Prokofiev - Dance of the Knights

https://youtu.be/bBsKplb2E6Q?si=jnSpMO-bIhEcjJzb

Immediately imposes a sense of authority and dread. The dark theme plays over and over as she performs the same cruel experiments expecting different results, though it only succeeds in remowing her further from humanity. She imagines a world of pure bliss in acquiring her child, which at this point is as illusory as chasing the holy grail since she’s never satisfied. When she hears of Rose she schemes her way into the Winters home, elated to find the perfect vessel after a century of searching. She steals the child away, leaving behind a trail of destruction that finally catches up to her.

[ax-y10]

Step Aside

In which- Wilburs excited to see the Front Bottoms play, but you aren't so thrilled to be crowded in.

A/n: I'm pretty sure I recall the front bottoms playing at shaky knees and I got a real quick idea.

Chapter info: slight panic attack, crowded place, swearing, unnoticed anxiety (brief)

Pronouns: None (You/Yours)

Masterlist:

---

Wilbur didn't notice your increasing nervousness of being in a crowded area, to excited to see the Front Bottoms playing live, jumping around with his bandmates. You were previously squished up against his side, but now you had your phone out ready to text him telling him you were going to the bathroom.

He didn't realise you were starting to walk off until Joe tapped on his shoulder and pointed towards your distancing figure.

"Will? Bud? Y/n is over there. Go see what's happening for us, yeah?" Joe pointed out.

He looked over and saw you turning a corner, and that's when he started to rush towards you.

"Excuse me, sorry. Please move-" he trailed off, finally reaching your form, stopped when you heard his all-too-familiar short breaths, noted from when he gets scared of worried.

"Darling?" He whispered loud enough to not scare you, but also to not alert other people attending the festival.

You held out your arms on either side so he could wrap his arms around you, and that he did. He held you tight but not too tight, and kissed the back of your head to calm you, feeling your rushing breaths.

"Sweet? Match my breathing for me, please?" He spoke frantically, your breathing becoming more sparse and stuttered.

In, one. Hold, two. Out, three. Hold, four.

Ultimately calming down, you twist in his loose hold and bury your face in his neck, your slow tears falling down his shoulder.

You've never been good with crowded spaces your entire life. People think it's irrational: "How stupid? How are you going to do normal things?" One person stated. "Fucking pussy. Get over yourself," A kid in your school stated. The bullying got worse as you kept speaking about it to your close friends, your so-called trustworthy friends shared the secret. Your family also didn't help. They put you in Summer camps, made you do the shopping each week, made you do many activities that required you to be social, supposedly trying to cure your fear. You somewhat got over your fear, but this festival just broke down that barrier.

You broke away from the hug and went to sit down against a border near the edge of the festival, a few people scattered around but not too many to overwhelm you, him following you like a lost puppy to sit with you.

"Wil, you can go back over to the band. I don't mind. I'll stay here." Bu the denied everything.

"I've let them know I'm over here so I'll stay with you just to make sure you're okay."

You smiled and looked over to Wilbur to watch him jump along and sing along. He doesn't like festivals that much, much like you, but you loved how he was enjoying it so much, and it made you fall harder with each song that passed.

Your favourite song started playing but it didn't register in your head as you were too busy looking at your boyfriend jamming to one of his favourite bands. Once he looked at you and smiled, bobbing his head to the music, a large smile plastered on his face, did you realise it was your favourite song.

You soon got over the almost panic attack, and started enjoying yourself a bit more, however you were still at Wilbur's side listening to the various songs playing.

But everything came to an end eventually and once everyone was collected (after being hunted down by Ash) and back in the van, did you finally sit down and fully relax. You'd changed into warm, over-sized clothes from your boyfriend and laid down next to him in his small bunk, scrolling through your messages, winding down for the night. Little did you know, he was watching your smile appear on your face everytime you read the words "I love you" in a message.

"Are you having a happy session at the moment, Love?" He snapped you out of your thoughts.

"...no" You said mischievously, being incredibly obvious as it was a lie.

He threw his arm across your waist, taking your phone and pushing it under his pillow along with his, and snuggled his face into your shoulder.

"Wil, you can't fall asleep before me," You joked, but he grumbled and pushed his face harder against your shoulder.

"Don't get all pouty, I'm sorry. you can go to sleep."

And you watched him fall asleep, listened to his sleepy noises, and felt him relax into your touch as he got increasingly tired, leading you into a deep sleep.

[deliasbabe]

I'll Travel Far Beyond the Path of Reason (Take me back to Eden)- Cordelia x reader (Part 1)

You and Cordelia get into a fight and you are attacked by witch hunters. If you couldnt tell by the summary, heavy HEAVY angst.

I've been working on this for over a year and if I don't post it now I'll continue to tweak it until the end of time. Enjoy babes and I'll see you for part 2!

Words: 8.6k

Warnings: Violence, Blood, ANGST, drugging, drug & alcohol use, PTSD

How could you have been so stupid?

It had started off innocently. You had always played the good cop to your supreme’s bad cop. She dispensed the punishment, stern but always loving, and you spared the girls from it as much as possible. It had become sort of a banter between the two of you, the way you would intercept the issues before they ever reached her office door, correcting the situation so well she only ever heard about it months after the fact in hushed whispers. She would always scold you, but there was a hint of a smile only you could see, and she never was mad for long. So, when the girls called you the other night and admitted they messed up, you climbed out of bed and drove across town without a second thought, and without waking your sleeping girlfriend.

You thought it was simple, they snuck out after curfew, went to a party, and drank a bit too much. But when the cops knocked on the coven’s door two days later, your girlfriend was blindsided, and you had learned their little screw up wasn’t so little.

Grand theft auto, to be exact. Seems they had left out the part where they took some asshats car for a joyride and crashed it, but that was after he had been a little too handsy with the youngest and tried to spike her drink. You called it penance, but your girlfriend called it-

“A felony, Y/N.” She spat, “They committed a felony, and you kept it from me.”

“I didn’t know all of the information.” You argued, “All I knew was they snuck out and needed a ride.”

“You still should have told me. I’m responsible for those girls.” Cordelia fumed, “I know I let you get away with it before, but this is too far. What am I supposed to tell their parents? That their own teacher helped them leave the scene of a crime?”

“Once again, Dee,” You lamented, “I didn’t know. They kept that tidbit of information private.”

It was supposed to be date night, the one day a month you could manage to drag your workaholic girlfriend from her office and away from her responsibilities. But she was seething over her glass of red and you couldn’t seem to get a word in edgewise, so you quickly came to terms with the fact that it wasn’t going to be a pleasant evening, even if you were at one of the nicest places in town.

“You know that doesn’t matter.” She spit, “They could go to jail.”

“What would you have done if you’d known?” You asked, already knowing the answer, “If I had woken you up, what would you have done? Woken Mallory up so she could reverse time and make sure the whole thing didn’t happen? Magically move the dented pieces back into place? You couldn’t have done anything.”

“Don’t be condescending.” Cordelia growled, “You aren’t supposed to keep secrets from me, that’s not how this works. Especially when it comes to the girls. You should have said something.”

“So you could yell at them for sneaking out? So, when they did it again, they’d be too scared to call?” You asked, Cordelia shaking her head.

“They still lied to you,” She bit, “So your plan seems to have some flaws.”

“They were scared.” You argued, “They knew if they told me everything, I would’ve come to you.”

“You should have come to me regardless.” Cordelia spat, “I’m the headmistress of this academy and your supreme.”

“And I trust you with my life,” You said, “But right now you aren’t really showing your level head.”

And oh boy, if her eyes could shoot daggers, you’d be bleeding out on the floor. She scoffed, her jaw clenching and grinding as she mulled over her response. Normally, she would roll her eyes and grin at the joke, but she simply shook her head and grabbed her things, leaving the restaurant without another word.

“Delia…” You called after her, but she didn’t turn around, and your waitress was on you before you could even think to go after her, “I guess I’ll take the check.”

When you reached the parking lot, your car was gone, and you lolled your head back and let out a frustrated grunt as it started to drizzle. The symbolism wasn’t lost on you, walking across town in the rain only to come back with your tail between your legs. She was putting you through the ringer for this one, and while you couldn’t really blame her, she also wasn’t being completely fair. Not telling her the girls had snuck out was on you, one hundred percent. But you weren’t a mind reader, and you had absolutely no way of knowing the girls weren’t being truthful, you were just as surprised as she was. But still, you knew she needed someone to be angry with, now that the damage was done.

Still, an hour long walk in the now pouring rain seemed a bit excessive. The woman was blessed with the ability to transmutate but still left you stranded just to prove a point. You were lucky you had been in the city long enough to know your way around, especially at night. The choice to avoid the French Quarter added about twenty minutes to your trek, but it was the smarter option, given the string of muggings that seemed to plague the location, although the extra time didn’t help you escape your thoughts.

You and Cordelia had never fought like this. Sure, you bickered, but all it took was one well timed joke and the feeling was fleeting, replaced with poorly hidden smiles and ticklish sides. The arguments were meaningless, spurred on by minor miscommunications or the occasional poorly timed joke, never like this, if anything they were humorous. You knew Cordelia was protective, that she’d do anything for her girls, and you had grown to love her mama-bear tendencies, but she had never turned them on you.

You turned down an empty alley, a shortcut that would spit you out a few houses down from your destination, your desperation to get home overpowering your hatred of tiny, cramped, dimly lit spaces. You walked quickly, looking over your shoulder at every step, terrified that you would turn around and someone would be chasing you with an axe like the movies.

You glanced forward, a few more steps and you would be free, but as soon as you approached the exit, two men stepped into your view, and you stopped on a dime, “Going somewhere, witch?”

Witch Hunters.

Since the coven had gone public, more men were willing to join their ranks, and you turned on your heel and booked it the second they stepped in your direction. You never were a star athlete, though, and soon enough you were being pulled to the ground and restrained. You fought against it, earning a set of knuckles to the left side of your face, and you felt his ring scratch down your cheek as you tasted blood. You felt their hands everywhere, holding you down as three more blows hit, your stomach, the side of your ribs, and another to the face just for good measure. You tried to focus, but complete panic overwhelmed all your senses. You knew how to handle this. Cordelia had worked with you and trained you until you could do it in your sleep, but with the adrenaline pumping and the blood rushing through your ears you couldn’t seem to remember it at all, all you knew was that you had to get home to Cordelia to warn her, you couldn’t keep something from her again.

Somewhere in the haze you caught a flash of silver, a searing pain, and then the hands were gone. You didn’t remember pulling yourself up, but as you were dragging yourself back towards the house, you did remember having to dislodge your feet from under the dead bodies. It hurt to breathe, to stand, to move, but you mustered up what energy you could as you pulled yourself up the steps of the academy, wiping at your face as you spotted your car in the driveway, only for your hand to be covered in blood.

Your vision grew hazy as you reached for the doorknob, and you clumsily felt around till you were met with the cold, metal object, unable to trust your own eyes. You pressed your weight into the door, practically falling through and barely catching yourself on the entryway table. You spotted your lover in the kitchen, her back to you as you attempted to right yourself, “Dee…”

“I’m not talking to you.” She said shortly, shaking her head.

You lost your balance once more, falling into the wall this time. “No, Delia…” You tried again, your voice sounding strangled.

At the drop in your tone Cordelia was alarmed, shoulders squaring as she whipped her head around to meet your eyes. You didn’t think it was all that bad until you saw her expression, the way her eyes bugged out in horror, mouth gapping as she traced your form up and down, before her eyes landed on your stomach. You followed her gaze only to see a knife, and suddenly you were falling down, down, down.

You were pulsing in and out of consciousness, the world turning into a stop motion film. You saw her moving towards you, then she was on top of you, mouth forming around words and phrases you couldn’t seem to comprehend.

“What… Can you… Hold on… Stay with…”

You felt hands, first two on your face, tracing your cheekbone and calming you down. Then, you felt them everywhere, lifting you, and you fought against them with whatever strength you had left, deep laughs invading your mind as you felt those hands grip tighter and tighter. But then the rest of the hands were gone and there were those hands again, on your face and so soft, shushing you and lulling you into some limbo you didn’t know if you ever wanted to reach, running through your hair and grabbing your hand as you finally let the dark win.

“Just let it happen.”

Murmurs of familiar voices drew you into some semblance of consciousness. You couldn’t identify who was speaking, and for whatever reason, your eyelids felt like lead, unable to let even a sliver of light in.

But you could hear, the rustle of hair brushing against fabric, the tap of shoes.

“Not now.”

“You need to eat; it’s been two days.”

Then, a tone you recognized, still pleasant, but just enough bite to get the point across.

“I said not now.”

You tried to wiggle your fingers, flex your hands, show any sign of life, but there was some sort of disconnect between your body and mind, and it drove you nuts. Were you dead?

At the sound of the voice again, you wanted to reach out, to provide some comfort, but you couldn’t, and it made you want to scream. You were always claustrophobic, but this was a million times worse. You could feel your panic rising, the heat in your body constricting your lungs until you felt like you were suffocating. You heard a sound you couldn’t recognize, then the shuffling of feet.

“What’s going on?”

Then that voice, high pitched and panicked, “I don’t know.”

“Is she in pain? Do I need to get Mallory?”

That name, you knew that name, but why?

There was a pinch, then every nerve in your body was searing before going numb, the voices fading as you were desperately trying to claw your way back, losing your grip and falling into nothing once again.

When your eyes opened, the light blinded you and made your head throb, forcing you to shut them again. Slowly, you cracked one open at a time, trying to make sense of your surroundings. There were a pair of heels discarded by the bed, and the steady pounding of footsteps, one right after the other, a pause, and one right after the other again. You tried to lift your gaze up, only to be met with the glaring reflection of the sun rays in the mirror, and you shut your eyes and burrowed deeper under the covers. The footsteps stopped at the sound, stuttering against the hardwood, only to pick back up a moment later.

You cracked open one eye and looked down at the end of the bed, your girlfriend traversing the length of her bedroom, arms crossed, and a red thumbnail pinched between her teeth as she stared at the floor. You watched her for a moment, hair mused and lipstick smudged, wearing your favorite dress, and it almost brought a smile to your face, but then she turned around and you saw the dark maroon stain and everything came rushing back as your eyes snapped open.

She hadn’t changed, hadn’t washed her hands. The shoes discarded by your bed were the ones she was wearing, probably chucked to the side once the pain of the pacing had become too much to bear. You bit back tears, swallowed down the terror, and tried to speak, but your throat was dry and hoarse from the screaming. Your mouth moved over empty words, trying again and again until something finally fell out.

“You need to eat.”

Her gaze met yours, hands falling to her sides, but just as quickly as the relief had come, it was replaced by something haunted. She stepped towards you, arms reaching for you, then falling, then reaching again, until she settled on grabbing the sheets next to you, fingers fidgeting in the cotton. She met your eyes, looked away, looked back again, before choosing to stare at the headboard, “How are you feeling?”

You went with a joke, hoping to ease her discomfort, “Like I got stabbed.”

There was no laugh, no smile, not even a twitch at the corners of her mouth. You reached for her hand, rubbing your thumb along the back, but she pulled it away, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress as she stepped back. “I’ll get you some water.”

“Delia…” You called after her, images racing through your mind of the last time she left you alone, causing your heart to bang in your chest, but she was already out the door, her feet tapping on the stairs, growing quieter with each passing second.

When she finally returned, it felt like an eternity had passed. She handed you the glass without even sparing you a glance, searching the room for a moment before she returned to your side with full hands. The glass between your lips was quickly replaced by a thermometer, a blood pressure cuff slipped up your arm and squeezing as you whined in protest.

“Shh,” She chided you, her voice absent of any of the warmth that used to feel like coming home, “Your blood pressure is still elevated.”

“You need to eat.” You said again, only for her to ignore you, so you settled for questions, anything to make her actually talk to you. “How long was I out for?”

She glanced up at you, looking perplexed for a moment before shaking her head and refocusing on the task at hand. “Four days.” She finally said, her hands reaching for the nightstand and coming back with a vial.

“Is everyone ok?” You asked, watching her draw the liquid from the vial up into a syringe.

“The girls are fine.” She answered, too focused on checking for air bubbles to even spare you a glance. Something was wrong, you felt it in your bones, but she ducked and weaved through every emotion.

“Are you ok?” You asked, reaching for her but coming up short as she stepped back.

She looked at you then, eyes hazy as she shook her head, “I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.” You challenged, only for her to glare at you.

“You need rest.” She said, her eyes leaving yours once more, lifting your blanket and repositioning your leg, “You’re still healing.”

You felt tears burning behind your eyes, the fear still lingering that if you dared to sleep, you wouldn’t wake up. “I want to talk to you.” You said, trying to ignore the way your voice cracked as you grabbed her arm, halting her movements.

Her face fractured then, but only slightly, and you swore you heard her sniffle back tears. You thought you had her, but then she was reaching and prying your fingers off of her, the alcohol wipe drying your skin and burning your nostrils. “You can,” She murmured, shaking her head once more, “After you rest.”

You shook your head as she uncapped the needle, trying to wriggle out of her grasp, but within moments you were frozen in place, the needle pinching your skin and warmth quickly spreading through your veins, making your body go limp and your eyes droop. “But…” You began, fighting to keep your eyes open, your mouth moving. She shushed you, bringing her hands to your face and pressing her lips to your forehead, but you knew it was only to placate you, to give you a sliver of hope that everything was alright.

Over the next few days, you barely saw her, despite being stationed in her bedroom. The girls came and kept you company, but every time you would ask about Cordelia, they would dance around the subject, sharing glances you couldn’t quite understand and making some excuse about paperwork before changing the subject entirely. They did their best to keep your spirits up, but they knew they weren’t who you wanted, and you tried to ignore the pitiful looks they threw in your direction when they thought you couldn’t see them.

The only time you saw her was when she was administering your medication, coming up with every excuse to not be able to stay during the day. She promised you more time in the evening, only to knock you out the moment you dared to ask about anything outside of the weather.

She wasn’t sleeping, you knew this because you lived in her bed and she wasn’t in it. That, and you had spent enough time studying her face over the past week that you noticed the bags under her eyes becoming darker and darker. She had finally changed her clothes, but you didn’t know how, given that she avoided you for a majority of the day. Maybe she was grabbing them after she forced you into unconsciousness, or maybe she stockpiled them in her office. You grew to hate the sunset, the orange haze making your skin crawl at the thought of what was to come. You felt violated from being forced into submission, and as the days dragged on, you couldn’t help but feel the fear that lodged itself in your throat every time she would appear.

A week in, you broke, curled into a ball with tears streaming down your face as you begged, but she just reached for the vial once again, murmuring something about how your body needed rest, always more rest. She reached to stabilize you and you retreated, pulling your legs close to your body and pushing further and further up the bed every time she would bridge the gap, almost knocking yourself to the floor in the process.

Cordelia didn’t understand, brow pinched together as you begged, “Please, just talk to me.” She shook her head imperceptibly, eyes blank as she reached for you again, and you shrieked, launching yourself off the bed and onto the floor, “No!”

Cordelia stared at you in shock, her eyes scanning your face for some semblance of reason, but you weren’t even looking at her, eyes trained on the syringe as your face contorted in fear. She followed your line of sight, then looked back at you, her stoic expression splintering as the realization dawned on her. The syringe clattered to the floor, and you finally tore your eyes away, staring back at her with that same terrified expression as her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.” She choked, shaking her head as she forced herself to look away, her voice dropping to a whisper, “I can’t do this.”

You didn’t say anything as she walked out, couldn’t bring yourself to stop her, and as you sat on the floor and waited for someone to find you, you finally came to terms with your new reality, with the idea that even if you wanted it to, things would never be the same. You didn’t know how long you had been sitting there, but eventually Mallory picked you up from the floor and got you back into bed, foregoing your nightly medication. As the night drew on with no sleep in sight, you found you craved it, at least it was peaceful, unlike the war raging in your mind.

Something changed that day. The oblivion you once fought tooth and nail to stay out of had become your safe haven. By the time Mallory had visited you the next morning, you had demanded it, morning, noon, and night. You didn’t see Cordelia once in the week that followed, although with how much you were sleeping, you wouldn’t have noticed even if she had payed you a visit, although you doubted she did. Your supreme had always prided herself on her communication, but you knew her well enough to know that when it came to the hard things, it was the first to go. You didn’t know what you would say if she did decide to talk to you, didn’t know if there was anything to say.

Once they were sure you could manage to get around on your own, they let you return to your room, forcing you back into reality and removing every coping mechanism you had. You kept to yourself for the first few days, downing Benadryl like it was water and sleeping through most of the day. On the third day, you managed to stumble down for dinner, only for the seat at the head of the table to remain empty the entire time. The girls were all thrilled to see you, talking your ear off about all the things you had missed, but in your haze you could barely pay attention.

From the little you did hear, it seemed your supreme had found a way to solve your dilemma, convincing the man to change his story and drop the charges in exchange for a brand new, much nicer car. A quick and dirty fix that was so unlike her, you had to wonder what state she was in when she gave the green light. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that what was done was done, but when you went back to your room it was all you could think about, staring at the ceiling for as long as you could manage before you were reaching for the Benadryl once again.

You ran out on day four, and with it, so did your patience. You had cried and wallowed and overthought for weeks on end, an endless pit that did nothing but drag you down. You couldn’t live that way anymore, so you left your room, taking up residence in the common area and hoping the chatter would keep you grounded. You talked and laughed with the girls, but no matter how hard you tried, it all felt forced, a failed distraction from the emptiness that took up residence inside your chest. The harder you pushed, the worse it felt, and by the time dinner rolled around, you had reached some fucked-up form of acceptance, resigning to the fact that you probably wouldn’t ever feel whole again.

You saw her then, at the head of the table, talking quietly with some of the younger girls, and you forced yourself to keep your head down, pushing at your food, afraid that if she met your eyes, she would bolt again. It didn’t matter, she didn’t look in your direction once, not even when your youngest student, Lottie, called your name and asked you both to watch an incantation she had just learned, or as she called it, “A magic trick”. Despite the tightness in your chest, you couldn’t help but smile at the innocence there, the way everything was still so new to her and full of wonder. You wished you still had that, like you had when you first came to the academy, before you learned of the consequences.

Cordelia was the first to leave the table, and the tension was palpable. You could feel everyone’s eyes drift to you, only to look away without a word. You grabbed your dish and headed towards the kitchen, depositing your untouched dinner in the trash and your plate in the sink.

“Well look who’s back to the land of the living.” You heard Madison call out from behind you, turning to face her. Madison was never one to beat around the bush, and you waited for the question to cut you like a knife, “Did you and Foxxy break up?”

You ground your teeth, jaw muscles flexing and releasing as you contemplated your answer, only to be hit with a punch to the gut when you realized you didn’t have one. You thought you had accepted it, whatever it was, but your eyes were glassy against your own volition, stomach twisting into knots as you spit out, “I don’t know.”

Madison’s smirk fell, the prideful look in her eyes replaced with something you couldn’t read. She didn’t push like you expected, she just nodded, and that was all you needed for your world to crack open, any strength you had left spilling out and vanishing. You grabbed your shoes and keys, heading for the door as they called out for you, saying you couldn’t leave, you weren’t strong enough yet, you could get hurt, but you didn’t care.

You didn’t care if your stitches ripped and you bled out in the middle of nowhere. You didn’t care if you were hit by oncoming traffic and left to die by the side of the road. You didn’t care if you fell off a cliff and they had to fish your body out of the river. Everything, your entire life, your entire world, was gone. There was nothing left for you, it was taken, and you didn’t care what happened next.

You arrived at the swamp with nothing but a bottle of whiskey. Misty had taken you out there once to gather mud, told you how sometimes it was the only place she could go to clear her head, her sanctuary, and you thought it might help, but as you downed the bottle and laid on her bed, you couldn’t help but feel like you were desecrating sacred land. You didn’t know how people did this, how they just kept going and moved on no matter what horrors they faced. You laid down and stared at the stars and cursed the world for spinning, for time moving, because you hadn’t moved in weeks. No matter what you tried, you were still trapped in that alley, in that bed, and nothing could pull you out of it.

Well, something could, or someone, maybe, if they tried, but even that wasn’t a sure thing. You would be an idiot if you didn’t acknowledge that this was more than just an issue with Cordelia, that even if you did talk, even if you did work it out, it wouldn’t fix everything.

But at least you wouldn’t feel so alone.

When you walked through the doors three days later, she was talking with a student at the foot of the stairs, her head raising involuntarily at the sound and her eyes locking with yours. You looked away quickly, leaving your muddy shoes by the door and depositing your keys on the counter, and by the time you went to head up the stairs to shower, she was gone.

She didn’t come to dinner that night, nor the night after, and despite the girls knowing enough to not ask questions, you could hear the faint whispers when they thought you weren’t paying attention. Lottie, however, wasn’t privy to this social knowledge, and she told you everything. Apparently, the three days you were gone was the most time that anyone had seen the supreme in a month. She was back to her usual self, she even started teaching classes again, but the second you came back, she disappeared once more.

You booked a ticket home that night for the following week, quietly packing your things over the course of the next few days. You didn’t know what the future for you held, but you did know you wouldn’t find any closure here, and you weren’t willing to continue subjecting the girls to whatever this was. It was too much, and you couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to get out.

You did your best to avoid telling the girls, not wanting to cause yet another spectacle for them to gawk at, but they seemed to figure it out anyways, and you weren’t sure how. They asked questions about your return, you did your best to dodge them, and for a few days it worked, until the older girls cornered you two days before you were set to leave.

“When are you coming back?” Zoe asked, trying to be delicate as she rephrased the question for the 50th time.

You sighed, “I told you, I don’t know. This isn’t as big of a deal as you guys are making it out to be. I just have some things to take care of.”

“Cut the shit, bitch.” Madison sneered, rolling her eyes, “We’ve all seen the way you and our dear supreme have been skulking around. Are you coming back or not?”

You didn’t want to tell them the truth, knowing if you did then Cordelia was sure to find out about it. You didn’t know what would hurt worse, knowing you left and didn’t give her a chance to fix it, or her finding out and doing nothing. But these were your friends, and despite wanting to have control over the situation, wanting to have the chance to break your own heart, you couldn’t lie to them. “I don’t know.” You finally said, “I don’t think so.”

Madison stared at Zoe with a raised brow, the two having a seemingly silent conversation over your head, but Zoe simply nodded and smiled at you, “Ok, that’s all we needed to know.”

They helped you pack, spent every meal with you, and even slept in your room, wanting to see you as much as possible before you left. It was a little strange to you, but you didn’t necessarily mind it, especially once you realized that the more time they spent with you, the less time they had to talk to Cordelia. They planned a movie night send off for you, gathering all the girls in the living room and handing out popcorn and snacks. After the first movie, you went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, Madison calling out for you.

“I left a twelve pack of coke in the greenhouse,” She yelled, “Can you go grab it? We’re almost out and I’m too lazy to get up.”

You rolled your eyes but complied, shaking your head as you wandered out toward the greenhouse, smiling to yourself for the first time in weeks. With the way the day had gone, it had almost made you feel guilty for leaving, almost made you change your mind, but the second you stepped through the greenhouse door, a familiar pair of eyes reminded you exactly why you were going.

When she glanced up at your smiling face you swore you saw a flash of happiness, but it was gone in a moment, replaced with that same look that had been haunting you for weeks, like you were intruding on something, but you still hadn’t figured out what. You felt your cheeks catch fire as you cleared your throat, not wanting to make this any more uncomfortable than it had to be, “Sorry, I just need to grab something, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Cordelia nodded, eyebrows furrowing as she glanced back down, and you felt your nerves prickle beneath your skin, anger swirling in your gut at her display of confusion, like she was clueless.

Still, you didn’t want to cause a scene, didn’t need the added weight to carry with you, so you bit your tongue, heading towards the opposite side of the greenhouse once you spotted the red cardboard. You walked back towards the door with your head down, trying to leave the situation as quickly as possible, hand on the knob and pulling, only for the door to not budge, smacking your head on the glass. You stepped back, grabbing the knob and tugging again, but the door still wouldn’t move. You stood there awkwardly for a moment, not wanting to ask for help with something as simple as opening a door, but when you heard the blades of grass shuffle and the hushed whispers, you audibly groaned.

Cordelia glanced up, but only momentarily, “Is there something wrong?”

You sighed, “The door won’t open.”

You glanced back right as Cordelia looked up, her tone airy in that slight tell of annoyance, “Just open it.”

You glared back at her, “You try it then.”

She shook her head, “Just unlock it.”

“I can’t.” You huffed, crossing your arms and tapping your foot.

Cordelia sighed, “I meant…”

“I know what you meant.” You shot back, obviously annoyed. You were doing your best to keep it together, to act cordial, but it was difficult when Cordelia was treating you like a first-year student. “I can’t. My powers have been…” You explained, biting down on a sigh, “Temperamental, lately.”

That seemed to peak the supreme’s interest, her head tilting as she took a step towards you, “Temperamental as in you’re going to rip the door off its hinges?”

You huffed, choosing to stare anywhere else that wasn’t her, “Temperamental as in they don’t work.”

You didn’t think much of it when you heard her start to walk closer, knowing she wanted this conversation to be over just as badly as you did and was probably looking for a way to get you out of there. You didn’t expect to feel her cold fingertips graze your stomach, finding the hem of your shirt and tugging up as you whipped your head towards her, instantly batting her hands away. She glared at you, reaching for the hem once again with one hand, “We might not have gotten all the silver out.”

You grabbed her wrist, halting her movements, and glared back, “I seriously doubt that’s the issue.”

She sighed, pulling her wrist from your hand as she stood up straight, and you swear you saw her roll her eyes, walking towards the locked door and focusing. You could hear the lock click, but when Cordelia went to turn the knob, it wouldn’t move. She tried again, jiggling the knob in case it was stuck, but it still wouldn’t budge, so she resorted to yanking, only to hear Madison call out, “We enchanted the locks, bitch!”

Cordelia stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, before you heard her also groan, and you couldn’t help but snicker at her frustration, at realizing what you had already known. She turned briefly towards the sound, before sighing and returning to her workstation and resuming whatever she was doing.

At some point, you started pacing the length of the room, arms crossed as you waited for the girls to give up, knowing they likely were standing outside and listening to the whole thing. You didn’t know how long it went on for, but your patience was growing thin and your steps were becoming firm, stomping back and forth, back and forth.

“What are you doing?” Cordelia finally sighed, glancing up with her jaw pitched forward, another tell of annoyance.

“Contemplating murder.” You sassed, Cordelia shaking her head as she tried to focus.

“Could you stop?” She asked in that same airy tone, “You’re distracting.”

You chuckled darkly, “What are you going to do? Knock me out again?”

She rested her hands on the table, her face unimpressed and her tone painfully even, “You needed the rest.”

Another snide laugh fell from your lips as you turned on your heel, still pacing as you mumbled, “Don’t tell me what I fucking needed.”

“You were seriously injured…” Cordelia sighed, like she was scolding a child.

You whipped back towards her, eyes blazing as you bit, “I needed you.”

“I was there.” Cordelia said, shaking her head for what felt like the millionth time.

“No, you weren’t.” You shot back as the supreme sighed.

“I’m sorry if I offended you or hurt you…” She began, but you couldn’t stand to hear it.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Cordelia.” You interjected, Cordelia throwing up her hands.

“What do you want me to say?” She asked, like you were being unreasonable.

You stood your ground, digging your heels in as you fired back, “Something that doesn’t sound like you’re reading from a script would be nice.”

“I’m not!” She yelled, throwing her head back as you resumed pacing once again, trying desperately to keep yourself in check so you wouldn’t explode.

She watched you pace, back and forth, back and forth, waiting for what she knew was coming, what she couldn’t avoid. It took you longer than she expected, a million questions pilling up on the tip of your tongue, one after the other until they all started to slide out like an avalanche.

“Are you still pissed off at me? Is that what this is?”

“No, I’m not.”

You turned on your heel, staring at her once again, your tone exasperated and snappy, “Then what the hell is it? Because you can barely stand to look at me.”

“I am looking at you.”

“No, you aren’t.” You shot back, “You haven’t for weeks, you haven’t talked to me…”

Cordelia sighed, asking again, “What do you want me to say?”

“Something.” You spit out, your volume increasing, “Anything!”

You stared at her for a moment, waiting, but she just stared back, mouth gaping like she couldn’t even begin to fathom how you both got into this situation. You turned away again, biting down on a scream of frustration and resisting the urge to bang your head against the wall until you knocked yourself out. You didn’t know if you wanted to burn the place down or burst into tears, but you could feel the pressure building in your chest, and you were terrified of the outcome. The words fell out of your mouth before you had the time to register them, “Is it because I failed?”

You could hear the confusion in her tone, “What?”

You swallowed down the tears that threatened to fall, cursing yourself as you turned to face her, “I failed. You taught me how to deal with witch hunters. We went over it time and time again, and I still couldn’t…”

She couldn’t stand the sight of your watery eyes, training her gaze on the table as she croaked out, “No, god no…”

“Then what is it?” You asked again, whatever fight you had left in you disappearing, “Because I’ve been wracking my brain for weeks now, looking for some kind of reason...”

You watched her crack, just a bit, nose twitching against the ghost of tears as she shook her head and stuttered, “It’s not your fault, none of it is your fault. It’s…”

She stopped and shook her head, bracing herself on the desk as her chest heaved. You gave her a moment, not wanting to screw anything up when you were so close to getting the answers you had been searching so desperately for, but when she didn’t move to continue, you prompted her, “It’s?”

She looked up at you then, really looked at you, with tears in her eyes, moments away from spilling over, and you stepped toward her on instinct. She looked back down, clearing her throat as she tried to right herself, “It’s not your fault, it’s mine.”

You stepped toward her again, not sure you heard her right, “What?”

“It’s my fault you got hurt.” She clarified, and you shook your head, unable to speak, but she silenced you regardless, “I took the car, I made you walk home. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and you had to pay the price.” You shook your head, still unable to find your voice, but then you heard hers, weak and broken, “And I can’t ever express to you how sorry I am for that.”

“You didn’t know…” You squeaked, “You couldn’t know…”

She shook her head, “It doesn’t matter. It’s my job to protect my girls, all my girls, and I failed. I failed to protect you.”

“You- You saved me.” You stuttered, and the supreme shook her head.

“I fixed the damage I caused.” She sneered, but you knew her tone wasn’t directed at you.

“Delia...” You tried, taking another step towards her, but she held out her hand.

“If I can’t prioritize the safety of the girls over my own emotions, I’m no better than my mother.” She spit between gritted teeth, looking away to wipe at a tear once she saw your hurt expression.

You shook your head, “You could never be your mother.”

She shook her head, but didn’t respond, so you stepped forward, closing the gap between you and reaching for her, but she pushed you away, and that’s when it hit you.

She wasn’t trying to hurt you, she wasn’t punishing you, she was punishing herself. All this time you had been flipping your brain inside out, trying to find the meaning behind every look, every blank expression. But she wasn’t looking at you in disgust, she was in pain.

But the way she was looking at you now, you knew that look, had seen it time and time again, when she wanted something but couldn’t bring herself to ask for it, so you did. “Delia? Kiss me? Please?”

The look morphed as her brows pinched together, her eyes going dim as she shook her head. You begged and pleaded, wanting nothing more than for that look to return, for her to touch you and hold you and for everything to be ok again, but she wouldn’t relent. As soon as you started pleading, she stepped back and looked away, unable to bear the sight of you.

Something finally snapped, and everything you had been pushing away for the past month came rushing in like a tidal wave. You felt it buzzing in your chest, creeping up and up and up, spreading out to your limbs and making your entire body burn. You stalked towards the door, tugging on it again and again and again, bracing your feet on the walls and putting your whole body weight behind it. You looked ridiculous, but you didn’t care, you couldn’t care.

At some point, Cordelia must have turned around, watching you struggle for a moment before she finally spoke, “It won’t open.”

“I don’t care.” You seethed, “It needs to.”

You settled for sitting on the ground, bracing yourself against a table and kicking with your feet, “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I. Don’t. Care.” You spat, punctuating each word with a kick. When that didn’t seem to work, you settled for throwing your entire body against the door, hoping if you couldn’t break the lock, then you could at least crack the doorframe.

“You are still healing.” Cordelia said, walking towards you and reaching, but you batted her away, “You shouldn’t be doing any strenuous activity for at least another two weeks.”

You finally stopped, your body vibrating as you stared Cordelia down, “I don’t care. I have a plane to catch tomorrow.” Her brow furrowed, and you turned back towards the door, banging on it with your fists, “I have things to do!”

“Where are you going?” Cordelia asked, arms crossing.

You turned back towards her, throwing up your hands, “Home, Cordelia. Where else would I go?”

You watched her face contort, watched the hurt flash across her eyes, and you couldn’t stand it, “Don’t look at me like that.”

Cordelia scoffed, beginning to grow defensive, “Didn’t you want me to look at you?”

“Not like that.” You bit, “You don’t get to look at me like that, like I’m hurting you. Not after what you did.”

“According to you, I didn’t do anything.” She snapped, and you knew she was baiting you now.

“Exactly. You did nothing.” You spit between gritted teeth, whipping around and punching the door as hard as you could.

“You’re bleeding.” Cordelia stated, staring at the smear of blood on the door, then glancing at your busted knuckles.

“Good.” You bit, punching the door again, and a third time for good measure.

“Stop.” She called out sternly, but you were too far gone to listen, hitting, scratching, clawing, and kicking the door repeatedly as you lost it completely, “Stop!”

“I need to get out of here.” You huffed, “I need to go home.”

Your face smacked against the door as you slammed against it with your shoulder, tasting blood as you swallowed down the tears that were forming. Memories ripped through your mind in quick succession, a blow to your face, a kick to your ribs, and then the room constricted in time with your lungs, the walls moving closer, and closer.

You started screaming at some point, you felt it, but you could barely make it out in between the gaps in your heartbeat that was pulsing in your ears. You threw yourself against the door, harder and harder as the tears flowed in lava rivers down your face. Cordelia reached for you, shushing you and grabbing the empty space as you pulled away, screaming about home, how you needed to go home, get on a plane and never come back. How she hurt you and she didn’t care, she never cared, how all of this was a mistake, how you were a mistake.

You felt her hands grab you quickly, spinning you around before you could push her away, and then her lips were on yours and she was kissing you hard, hands pushing and pulling and grabbing anywhere they could reach, leading you away from the door and bumping into anything in your path. She kissed you like she was starving, teeth clashing and biting, nails scratching and pinching and ripping, but you were the same, and now that you had her, you couldn’t let her go. You let every part of her invade your senses, her wet cheeks pressing against your own, her gritty hands and cold rings and the taste of red wine on her tongue.

You didn’t come up for air until she pushed you against the opposite wall, lungs burning and desperate for oxygen, but even as she pulled back, you leaned forward, not wanting to face whatever came next. Your chests heaved into one another as you both stared wide eyed, and in that split second of nothing it all came crashing down. You watched her, watched her watch you, felt her chest push against you and a sob tear out of her throat, and you followed right behind her, closing your eyes as you braced for her to pull away, leaving you cold and empty once again.

Instead, she rested her forehead against yours, whimpering I’m sorry, I’m so sorry and I love you over and over and over again as she pressed her mouth to yours, pushing air into your lungs and sucking it right back out, her hands on your forearms, anchoring you in place. You held onto her hair like a lifeline, your legs giving out from exhaustion and suddenly you both were falling, but she didn’t let go.

You landed on your knees and collapsed into her, her arms wrapping around you as she pulled you to her chest, her lips pressed to your forehead and fingers carding through your hair as she whispered that same mantra, over and over and over again. You didn’t know what she was doing, didn’t know if she knew what she was doing, but with every pull of her fingers it felt like your memories of the past month were being extracted one by one, racing across your vision as the tears gave way to wails of anguish, her own cries increasing in time with yours. You felt it all over again, every ounce of emotion like it was the first time, and you didn’t know how she was doing it, or why.

When it was over, you had nothing left, no tears, no voice, no screams, nothing. You looked up at Cordelia in a daze, but she just smiled sadly back at you. You tried to speak, but your brain was fried, exhaustion quickly taking over your senses. Cordelia looked down at you knowingly, her fingers running down your cheeks as she shushed you, but you shook your head, afraid that if you gave in, you would wake up alone. She shushed you once more, kissing your forehead as she whispered, “I’m not going anywhere, it’s ok.”

[farity]

Home to you

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x you

Summary:  Aemond comes home from battle

Warning:  just fluff

.

“Where is my wife?  My daughter?”

“Your Highness,” his wife’s maid said, running to keep up with Prince Aemond’s long strides.  “They did not go with the rest of the family.”

Aemond stopped, turned.  “Why not?”

“My lady your wife told Queen Alicent that she knew that you, as Prince Regent and commander of the armies, would be a target, and so would your own family.”  She took a deep breath and continued, “my lady said no one should know where for our safety and theirs, but that you would know for it was where the most precious jewel shows all its colors.”

Aemond knew at once.  “Thank you.”

The maid watched as the prince turned on his heel and rushed back out.  She hoped he would find them and bring them home safe and sound.

* * * * * 

“I’m tired, muña.”

You peeked through the tiniest opening in the window coverings.  From the outside it would look like a normal tear in the rough fabric, but from the inside, it gave you the perfect angle to watch the path leading to the small cabin.

Turning to your daughter, you smiled, trying your best to keep the reality of the battle from your expression.  When you had heard the drums of the enemy troops get louder and louder, Queen Alicent had decided the family was to leave, the injured King Aegon smuggled out in a cart, Queen Helaena and her children dressed as servants, their silver hair fully covered.  At the last moment you had told Alicent of your plan, and despite her concern at seeing you leave, she agreed that it was paramount to keep you and your daughter’s whereabouts secret.

“We will see each other again,” you said before you led the horse out the side gate.  Just in case, you had gone out the opposite gate from your actual destination, and went around the great keep until you were on the right path.  

You took the little girl in your arms, “shall I sing you a song or tell you a story, my love?”

“Tell me the story of how you and kepa met!”

Ah, her favorite story.

You took her past the partition that separated the living area from the sleeping area, and sat with her on the large chair next to the stack of blankets.

“Once upon a time, there was a young girl who loved to sing.  One day, she was playing with her cousins and some relatives arrived.  She immediately decided that one of them was the most interesting, but the next day there was a fight between the children and he had a terrible injury.”

The little girl covered her left eye and shook her head.

“He was very brave but he was in so much pain, so the girl would sing to him until he could go to sleep.  Then her parents took her home, but she couldn’t stop thinking about that boy.  Soon after, she received a letter from him, saying thank you for all the times she had sung to him.  She wrote him back, and then he wrote back-”

The little girl giggled, moving her hands from one side to the other.”

“That’s right, the letters went back and forth and back and forth, until one day they realized they loved each other.  They each asked their parents to let them get married, and when they were old enough . . . “

“They did!”

“Yes, they did.  And a year later, they had a beautiful girl and their little family was the most precious treasure in the world.  And one time, when the baby girl was sleeping, they realized that there was a rainbow that landed right on her crib, and it made her silver hair look like all the colors you can imagine.”

Your daughter yawned.  “Maybe we can find a rainbow soon,” she said, rubbing her eyes.  You held her close, and kissed her forehead.

"We will try tomorrow, my darling, but for now it is time to sleep.”

She snuggled against you, and you looked down at her sweet little nose, her long silver lashes, and wondered when you would see your husband again.

* * * * * 

Aemond dismounted from Vhagar, having landed in the clearing closest to the cabin, and walked through the barely visible path until he caught sight of the familiar structure.  

He remembered that day so clearly because it was like the Seven were bestowing their blessings on his family.  His sleeping daughter in her crib, his wife walking toward him, and she’d stopped and smiled.  “Look, Aemond.”

He took the hand she extended to him and looked into the crib.  Their daughter was sleeping curled up on her side, her silver hair down to her shoulders, and through the window, a rainbow had landed on her hair.  

He’d smiled and his wife had kissed him and then pulled him to the large bed.

Reaching the cabin, he decided to walk around first, making sure everything was as it should be.  He heard a loud crunching noise by one of the windows and looked down to find he had stepped on a cluster of walnut shells.  Smiling, he went back to the door and opened it slowly.

He stepped in quietly, and a moment later she peeked out from the sleeping area, a large dagger in her hand.

She sighed at the sight of him, placed the dagger high up on a shelf and rushed into his arms. “My love,” she whispered, burying her face in his neck.  He held her tight, the relief coursing through him, and he kissed her temple, her cheek, her lips.

“Is she sleeping?” he whispered.

“Yes,” he felt her smile against him.  “After I told her the story of how we met.  Again.”

“It’s my favorite story, too,” he said, pulling back to look at her.  “Let me change and maybe you can tell it to me, too.”

* * * * * 

You watched casually as Aemond changed clothes, not only to admire your husband’s long, lean form but to check for any injuries.  Aside from a couple of bruises, he seemed to be fine, and after making sure your daughter was warm enough for the night, you stretched out on the large bed and waited.

“We will head back tomorrow, send word to the family,” he said as he approached the bed.  He wore only soft sleep pants and your hands itched to touch the broad lines of his shoulders, feel the strength in his arms.  He laid down next to you and caressed your cheek.  “Tell me a story.”

“You must be in my arms, then,” you replied, and he moved to wrap himself around you, his head right under your chin, as you started to stroke his hair.

“Once upon a time, there was a young girl who loved to sing.  One day, she was playing with her cousins and some relatives arrived.  She immediately decided that one of them was the most interesting and intriguing of all, but the next day-”

"-his twat of a cousin ended up taking out his eye.”

You smiled.  “his twat of a cousin ended up taking out his eye.   He was very brave but he was in so much pain, so the girl would sing to him until he could go to sleep.”

“And he thought her voice was the purest sound he’d ever heard.”

“Then her parents took her home, but she couldn’t stop thinking about that boy.”

Aemond wrapped his arms tighter around you.  “And he began to dream of her, and couldn’t stop thinking about her, either.”

“And she missed him so much.  Soon after, she received a letter from him, saying thank you for all the times she had sung to him.  She wrote him back, and then he wrote back-”

“And he wanted to tell her he knew he loved her, but he thought she would never love him back and only felt pity for him.”

“Aemond.”

He looked up, “it’s true.”

“But the boy was wrong, as boys often are, for she already loved him and wanted nothing more than to be with him-”

“in bed.”

You reached down and covered his mouth, and felt him laugh in response.  “But as they were both so young, they knew they had to wait.”

He kissed your palm.  “But he knew, she was the only one for him.”  He looked up again and kissed your lips.  

“Kepa!”

Aemond sat up just in time for his daughter to jump onto him.  “Muña was telling you the story again?”

“Yes, my jewel.  Have you been good for muña?”

The little girl nodded, then looked at you for confirmation.  

“She has been wonderful.  But she needs to be sleeping right now.”

“Muña, can I sleep with you and kepa?  Please?”

You looked at Aemond, smiling, and he nodded.  “Come here, little dragon, let’s tuck you in.”  He pulled up the covers over you and your daughter, then placed a protective arm over both of you.  Soon she was sleeping peacefully between you, and you thought there was no better feeling than knowing your family was with you, safe and sound.

* * * * * 

@  girlwith-thepearlearring    @greenowlfactif  @hydrationqueensworld    @megzdoodle   @melsunshine  @queenofshinigamis     @throughgoeshamilton   @travelingmypassion    @watercolorskyy

@hb8301   @kaemond-zafiro    @arcielee

[burritowitch]

Lonnie's 'in case of my death' note from shadow of the bat #41 which according to @lesbiananitafite reads a hell of a lot like a suicide note because he is Not Normal, written out below because it is so hard to read as is:

It looks like tonight must have been that night. I know I've caused you a lot of pain and grief over the past couple of years, and I'm sorry for that. You thought you were bringing me up to be the All-American boy, playing ball on the weekends, studying hard to be a doctor or lawyer. Instead you got a criminal. My memory is tainted, my good intentions derided. And, probably, I'm dead.

How to begin to explain how I feel? The world is like an alien planet to me, the brittle laughter and hollow fun of a theme park overlaying the nightmares of war and discrimination and brutality. The people society respects-- the great and the good-- are, in most part, the small and the evil to me. It's as if I see with laser eyes, burning away the surface illusions that hide the fact that we're zombies-- puppets controlled by somebody else. Again I'm sorry, because I know you're upset. You're good people-- nearly everybody is good people-- and that's what the elite take advantage of. But society is changing. The information revolution allows every man to see the great and good are no better than him. The old power structures and their fascist ways cannot compete with the anarchy of tomorrow's technology. The time of the common man is coming. No longer will he have to march to battle as fodder for bankers and arms makers. No longer will he live in a fog of deceit stoked up by politicians' lies. The future is freedom... and all I ever wanted was to hasten its birth.

I think it all began with Xuasus. I was eleven when he became my penpal... Every month I wrote to tell him the wonders of America-- Every month he wrote back with tales of hovels and soldiers and the brutal repression that made up his life. After a year, his letters suddenly stopped. Mine were returned "Not Known." Another year passed before I found out why he Xuasus wrote once more, a single sheet scribbled in some seedy back alley. His father had been arrested and not heard from since. His mother took ill. His sister died of malnourishment. At the age of 11, Xuasus was fending for himself on the streets. Remember I asked you to help me find him, Dad? You said it was another country, the rules were different there. We could do nothing. But I couldn't just forget a friend like that. I started to haunt the library. I found out Xuasus' country was a dictatorship, at war with Marxist guerillas, with ordinary people caught in the crossfire. I found out the guns came from Europe, and Russia... and here. A few men made big profits, while half a world away, poor people suffered. I read about war and the history of war, and the psychology of war, and the horrors of war. You never knew it but--

That's when I went through those months of nightmares. Remember? Anyway, I soon realized something-- almost all wars were caused by only one man, or one small group of men. And every time the elites ordered 'Fight!' it was the ordinary men who became canon fodder-- and ordinary families followed him into oblivion.

I learned that the state is more important than the individual. I learned that politics is soaked in blood. But I couldn't accept that it had to be that way. Remember how crazy I was about books, Dad? I used to make you take me to the bookstore every Saturday. Flying saucers, cults, conspiracy theory, religion, the occult... I drank it up, tried in vain to make sense of it all. Then I discovered Scudder Klyce's "Universe" and the jigsaw finally fell into place.

Scudder Klyce worked out the secret of humanity. Vox populi, Vox Del. The voice of the people is the voice of God. The elites are parasites, vampires sucking on the life-blood of man, turning everything good and decent into foul corruption! That's when Anarky was born. I couldn't help Xuasus-- but I could give the people of Gotham a voice, no matter how small, against the forces that oppress them.

--If I am dead, please don't think ill of me. I only wanted to bring a little sanity into an insane world for a little while, I was something no one else had ever been... the voice of the people. One day-- and it won't be long-- the tyrants will die away, scorned and mocked by their former victims. One day you'll see that I'm right; maybe then you'll be proud to say "My son did that."

All my love, Anarky (alias Lonnie Machin)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi so wednesday x reader who is basically itadori who has sukuna inside of them and has already eaten 2 fingers hope its not too complicated

This was a whole lot of words and none of them were probably even what you wanted.

Your an absolute sweetheart who could do no wrong nor harm a fly. Sure you could seemingly outrun a fucking cheetah but other then that there wasn’t anything unusual about that anyone could make by staring at you.

Only until you point out the two occasions where you had swallowed two of the twenty fingers of an all powerful king of curses. That earned you a few unconvinced stares until a sharp tongued mouth and a demonic eye appeared in tandem just under your cheekbone, spouting curses and death threats towards each and every one of your friends. Fun.

The demonic bastard ruined your perfectly normal life and made you an outcast in your old school, which you were then bullied out of the entrance doors by the kids you went out of your way to save and then sent away to Nevermore by your parents who had grown deathly scared of the monster within you that threaten to re decorate the walls of your home with their blood, use their internal organs for decorations and finally utilise their hollowed out heads as lamp shades/candle holders.

Weems was notified by the most notable names of the potential danger you could unintentionally bring upon the school should the king of curses continue to use you in his hunt for the remainder of his fingers and retaining every ounce of his long forgone and mythologised power.

So with two of the twenty fingers haven been swallowed, you were already too much of a problem for Weems and Nevermore but she knew that if she left you out into the streets of Jericho and the king of curses happens to greet everyone with his own eyes, Nevermore would be finished indefinitely when word got out that she sent you away because you were too much a danger to human life to be allowed in. So much so the entire town of Jericho was slaughtered because it.

So in order to satiate her growing fear, Weems tasked the nightshades to keep tabs on you and make sure that your…demonic friends didn’t come out to play. However after the first week of no evidence of you being a massive danger to the school. The nightshades -minus Xavier and Ajax because they went out of their way to befriend you during this time- didn’t see what Weems was so worried about and left you be to do their own thing that they would’ve liked to have been doing in the first place.

So when the one time that you did loose control to the king, Ho boy he was no at all entertained by the so called secrete society that was meant to keep tabs on him. That when Ajax and Xavier were about to head down to the library the saw you or what they thought was you standing near the Poe statue; almost as though you heard them breathing you moved to look them in they eye and that’s when they begun to know why Weems was so afraid. The person staring back at them wasn’t you but the king of cursed himself.

“Shouldn’t have let your guard down Nightshades,” he spat venomously as he threw Kent at their feet to see that his pendant had been obliterated to pieces much like his face was, “this is your line of defence against threats? How pathetic, I shouldn’t have to be trying this hard to maintain my presence within this body but this punk is stronger then I originally thought them out to be.” The king spat as he felt your tugging at him getting stronger by the second as he felt his time quickly slip away.

So before he could allow you to take this moment away from him, the curse stared at the two frightened boys and heeded a them a grave warning. “I shall come back for blood, for this puny moron couldn’t ever hold me back like this forever because one day, oh-ho one day, I shall slaughter every man, woman, child and how many others in this school and in Jericho.”

Once you had regained control, Ajax and Xavier were quick to realises that the black tattoos on your body also faded away. Weems told them that you had only swallowed two fingers and they were already shitting themselves at what you/the king of curses could do if you swallowed just one more if you/him were already able to hand Kent his ass on a silver plater at just two fingers. Ajax dragged Kent to the nurses office whilst Xavier carried you back to your dorm which you didn’t have a roommate as for their safety more so then yours and camped outside your dorm until the next morning.

Ever since Ajax and Xavier have been the only two nightshades to keep an eye on you 24/7. So when Wednesday came to school. She noted that there was something odd about you that she just couldn’t put her finger on. At the comment a mouth and an eye appeared just under your cheek bone, glaring/snarling angrily at her. “What did you just say about me you freaky little meat bag?!” You slapped a hand on the mouth to shut the curse up and looked at the addams apologetically. “I’m so sorry it’s just that I ugh, it’s a stupid story really so I’ll cut you the embarrassing part and tell you that I’m now the host of a potentially powerful curse king.”

“Potentially?! You piece of shit, I AM POWERFUL! I am the fucking King of curses!” The mouth then reappeared on the back of your hand as it boldly shouts to the heavens of it’s title. “Shut the fuck up!” You hissed at the mouth as you threateningly brought out a some sour candy juice spray from your back pocket. “Don’t make me fucking use this on you again!” The curse hissed in distain like a cat but disappeared back into your skin.

“He really hates this stuff, one time I missed my mouth by a long shot and it sprayed into his eye and he wouldn’t stop screaming for hours on end.” You laughed at the memory of the powerful king of curses howling in pain over a misjudged projectile of sour candy spray. You secretly hoped you didn’t ruin anything but were already preparing to move away if you had, however once you had prepared to move elsewhere Wednesday asked, “where are you going?”

“I’m…leaving you be as I don’t want him to hurt you or anyone else in this school and I don’t if you’ve heard but, I’ve already lost control once and almost killed Kent during my blackout.” You told her truthfully but she still looked unfazed by all that you’ve just said. “And?” She asks and that was when you were beginning to worry about her mental state. “And I don’t want you to be nearby incase I do black out and he does come out again.”

Wednesday looked you over before saying with confidence, “you look in control to me, so I have nothing to fear until later events and even then I wouldn’t run away as I would merely find some way to detain you until you regain consciousness.”

“She’s most certainly an interesting one, worm. Then again it must be a trait that every Addams descendant must’ve acquired at birth or something.” The curse told you that night as you were brushing your teeth, “one of ‘em got this close to actually ending me.” “How close again was it?” You asked, the curse groaned “I said this close.” The eye under your cheek bone then began to bring it’s lid down until you could just barely make out the eyelashes that were tickling your skin before it burst back open again.

“Did you catch it this time you twerp?” The curse asked you through the mirror. “Yes I did the first time actually but you were stupid enough to believe me and do it again for a second time.” You snarked back as the curse groaned at how he got duped but you told him to have it in the morning as you were already tired enough as it was and went immediately to bed and fast asleep the moment your head hit the pillow.

The closer you got with Wednesday the more it seemed that the curse also noticing the attachment you were forming with her. So on the occasion the curse would threaten to take over and kill her last so that when you woke up, you’d see her dead body in your bloody arms. Yet you’d always bite back that he had every opportunity to make that moment a reality for you but never did, you went as far as to call him chicken shit but the curse would just offhandedly told you that it unfortunately wasn’t time yet for that.

So whilst you waited for ‘that time’ you and Wednesday began having dates in cemeteries, crypts could abandoned house and so on with the king of curses being a nuisance now and then by popping up now and then in hopes of ruining your moment but to his dismay you had the sour candy spray on hand and would always spray it into his big mouth, where it hit him in the back of his throat and for the rest of your date you were forced to listen to him scream and cough overtly loud in reverb within your consciousness all the while you tried to remain outwardly unaffected.

Wednesday knew that you/the king of curses were a dangerous game but she was always drawn to those types of games but she would always make sure that you wouldn’t be taken over so easily like before. She also knew that the while you were conscious, the king was also conscious but to a lesser extent. His power flowed through you at a weaker rate then it did within himself which meant that when you were fighting to regain control, not only were you reliant on your own willpower but you were also somewhat reliant on a small portion of him that didn’t seek to fight those he was obviously on a whole other level then.

The curse was growing ever more intrigued by Wednesday and sooner or later abstained from his usual barbs with her in favour of doing to towards the likes of Ajax or Xavier who, in his opinion, were more fun to to scare shitless then you or Wednesday seeing as you’ve grown numb to his threats or too cocky in your ability to pull yourself back into consciousness. So he merely watched from within you, make his barbs before leaving to scheme for the day where he would finally obtain full control without your pretty interferences. One day, you, Weems, the nightshades, Nevermore and Jericho will rue the day that you dared crossed paths with the king of curses for it shall be your last.

Thornhill was already planning ahead in helping the king curse within you by tracking down the remaining fingers, then soon she’ll be on to her second phase which is to giving you the fingers then thirdly, allowing the king of curses to be able to create pure unadulterated chaos.

[lestappen4lifexx]

Hi there, this is the first time I have ever tried to write something like this.. so I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: 18+, a little smutty.

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc X surprise?

Max and Charles were always good at hiding that their friendship was more, that they were actually lovers. Some fans had wild fantasies about them being together but because the two of them were on different teams they wanted to keep their relationship secret. Of course there were pictures and videos of them being a little too touchy or close but the guys always played it off as nothing more than friendship. Half of the grid didn’t know nor did most of their team’s.

After the canadian grand prix which Max won of course, he wanted to go check on his boyfriend that dnfed the race after he had an amazing weekend in Monaco. He knew that Charles would be handling the loss of the weekend poorly. So he snuck off after all the post race interviews and made his way towards the ferrari hospitality suite. Just as he suspected when he made it to Charles' room, he was sitting in absolute silence with his head in his hands and shoulders slumped, beating himself up for the failure that was this weekend.

“Just leave me alone.” Charles says without even looking up at who entered his room. “I can’t do that schatje,” as if hearing his voice all of the tension he was holding on to melted away. Max closed the door softly and made his way over to sit next to Charles on the tiny bed. Once he was close enough Charles wrapped his arms around his lover. It felt like the first time for days that he could catch his breath. The weekend was over, there was no race next weekend so they had some time together before they would have to get back in the swing of training and prepare for the next one.

“I’m so proud of you mon amour. That race was intense.” Charles told Max as he slipped his hand onto his cheek and held his face for a quick kiss. Both drivers knew that they needed to be careful with affection, even if they were in Charles' private room. There were still so many people in and around the paddock, everyone doing their jobs to get this crazy circus packed up and on to the next destination. “I didn’t want to lap you, I tried so hard to stay back.” Max said which caused Charles to break out into a fit of laughter. He could tell that his boyfriend was telling the truth, but he had to follow the rules or the both of them could have gotten in trouble.

The two of them stayed hidden in Charles’ room for a few hours, trying to wait out the media and the fans so they could sneak back to one of their hotel rooms and grab some dinner. But what they didn’t know was that another driver was looking for Max. He wanted to see if the Dutchman wanted to go out and celebrate their success this weekend. Lando went and checked Max’s driver room but he wasn’t there. He asked some of the crew if they saw him leave yet but no one knew where the world champion had disappeared to. So he checked all the normal places that he thought Max would be but always came up empty. When he paused to think about his next move he realized that he was in front of the ferrari paddock so he thought he should check in on one of his best friends on the grid.

“Hey mate,” He stopped in front of one of the pit crew members that was getting all the tires organized, “do you know if Charles is still here?”

“Yeah man, he’s been in his drivers room since he finished with the media.” Lando nodded his thanks to the man and made his way back towards the room. Once he got to the door he heard that Charles wasn’t alone, he was about to turn around when he heard someone moan. The cheeky bastard that Lando wanted to see who was making the noise. He opened the door quickly before he changed his mind, but was frozen on the spot when he not only saw who was moaning but what was happening before his eyes.

Charles was on his knees with Max’s cock in his mouth. The world champion heard the door open and yelled a little too loudly “Either leave and shut the fucking door or get your ass in here and lock the door.” That snapped Lando out of his shocked state and he decided that he wasn’t missing this show or the explanation that he would demand once this was over.

Lando stood with his back against the door, not knowing where to look first. The sight of Charles on his knees made his heart race but looking away from Max with one of his hands resting behind his head and the other tangled in Charles hair, the look of pure pleasure on his face was a challenge. Charles had no idea who entered the room, he was too lost in trying to

make Max cum that he could care less that he had an audience. They two of them knew each other's bodies very well at this point so he knew Max was getting close. He knew that Max was enjoying the audience, it was something that the two of them talked about alot but never thought would happen.

Max didn’t know how he got so lucky with his boyfriend, no one gave head the way Charles did. Max would usually give Charles all of his attention but right now Max’s focus was on their friend against the door. He has caught Lando rearranging himself a couple times now. Can even see how affected the younger driver is from the scene in front of him. He wanted Lando to join in but didn’t want it to ruin their friendship. He already knew that some of the drivers that knew started to hang out with them less and less once they found out about him and Char.

“Why is this so fucking hot?” Lando whispered more to himself than anything. Max went to answer him but was surprised when he body chose that moment to lock up on him as his release spilled into Charles mouth. The pair moaned at the same time, each enjoying the moment together. The pop of Charles’s mouth releasing Max’s cock was dirty and erotic and made Lando almost cum on the spot. As Max tucked himself back in his pants, Charles grabbed a water bottle chugging half before leaning over to Max giving him a kiss that made sure Lando knew that Max was his.

“You know that you can’t tell anyone what you saw in here right?” Charles asked Lando who still hasn’t moved from the door. “Why would I tell anyone? What you guys do is your business. But like, was it a one time thing?” Lando asks, finally finding his voice.

“We’ve been together for two years now.” Max answered as he sat down on the bed next to his lover, picking up and holding his hand. Lando’s mouth dropped open in shock, he couldn’t respond. How could two of his best friends hide this from him. “You better close that mouth before I stick my cock in there to see if you’re as good as Char.” Max said with a laugh.

His statement made Lando even more turned on and shocked. “You can’t say those things to him just because he caught us mon amour!” Charles playfully smacked chest and the two of them bursted out laughing. The tension of the weekend was completely forgotten.

“But what if I want you to do that, after what I just saw?” Lando challenged the couple, who were now staring at the young driver with a smirk on their faces.

[theoddcatlady]

My Brothers and Sisters Lived in a Secret Room

Growing up, I knew that my family’s arrangement wasn’t normal. As I got older, I even had an inkling that it might be wrong. But it was all I knew, and I won’t let myself feel guilty for not doing anything about it for as long as I did.

I was the only biological child of my mom and dad, I found albums stacked away in a corner of the attic. The beginnings of baby books. A picture of an ultrasound, sometimes even a happy card announcing ‘It’s a boy!’ or ‘It’s a girl!’ in blue and pink lettering. Mine was the only one who had pictures of a squishy faced infant with tangled red hair and fat lil cheeks.

My first sibling arrived when I was about four. I’d made the horrible mistake of asking Santa for a baby brother when I sat on his lap. My mother burst into tears when she heard me and I knew I’d done something horrible. When we got home, mom told daddy about it and he told me to go play in my room while they talked about it. I knew that it wouldn’t be right to ask Santa for that again.

Next week on Christmas Day though, I woke up to hear a baby cry.

I ran downstairs to the Christmas tree only to find nothing there. I was confused until I heard a cry again. I followed the sound to the basement, where the most beautiful sight met my eyes.

My daddy had built a secret room behind the bookcase. My old toys I’d grown out of were scattered on the floor, the crib repainted to look brand new. My mom sat in the rocking chair, smiling so brightly as she cuddled a baby wrapped in blue blankets.

I couldn’t breathe. It felt like a dream as I walked up to them, peering to look at his face. His face was all red from crying and a fat tear rolled down his cheek as bleary blue eyes looked back at me.

I probably almost cried. My dad came up behind me and planted a kiss on the top of my head.

“Merry Christmas, Ella.”

They let me name him Robin. I can’t tell you why I picked that name, maybe watching Batman cartoons with my dad every Saturday morning had an effect on me. But Robin was the biggest secret I had to keep. I couldn’t tell all my friends at school I had a brother. If I told anyone, my dad told me that Robin would have to go away, and I didn’t want Robin to go away.

Every day after kindergarten I’d sneak downstairs and just talk with him. Once he stopped crying all the time he was a real sweetie. I’d cradle him so carefully and talk to him about my day. I was so, so happy. I didn’t think I could be any more happy.

Until I got a baby sister. My mom named her Caroline, I just called her Carol. Carol had thick dark curls and the softest skin. I loved her just as much as I loved Robin.

I got five more siblings over the years. Robin, Carol, Andrew, Andrea, Ivy, Ronnie, and Isaac. So many cute little babies. Ivy had a bit of a colic and Ronnie constantly had ear infections, but they were all little dears… well, except Isaac.

Isaac was the oddball out of the kids. He was the only little sibling that wasn’t a baby when he arrived. I was about eight when we got him. I remember my dad come back super late and hearing him walking into the basement. His shadow looked like he was carrying something and I felt a spark of joy in my chest. I knew this meant I’d have a new brother or sister come morning.

I went into the basement the moment I woke up, expecting to see my mom feeding my new sibling a bottle or for him to be kicking his lil feet while relaxing in his crib. I was shocked when I walked into the nursery and found a little boy my age, with a gag in his mouth and handcuffed to his bed.

Confused, I walked over and peeled off the gag. “Are you okay?” I asked.

The boy immediately screamed, straining against his handcuff as he attempted to struggle free. Judging by the bruises and bleeding around his wrist, he’d already tried this. Instead of trying to help him up, I tackled him, slapping my hand over his mouth. “Shut up! You’re gonna wake up our brothers and sisters!” I hissed.

My new brother responded by biting my hand. Hard.

I wailed as I ran back upstairs to my parents. My dad went downstairs to deal with my brother while my mom took extra good care to wash clean my hand and bandage it up. She explained that Isaac was troubled. It would take him time to adjust to his new home, I just had to work really hard to be a good sister.

But I was never to undo his handcuff and I was never, ever to let myself get too close. He was dangerous.

I did my best to stay out of arm’s length of Isaac. My dad had to build another room to put him in, one that was below the staircase. He wasn’t safe to keep around the babies.

I did try to befriend Isaac. For that first month or two all he’d do is lunge at me and spit or just scream in my face.

When he did start talking, it was the things I didn’t want to hear.

“My name isn’t Isaac, you know.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard him speak that first time. He was quiet that day, only giving me a sullen glare. I’d decided to leave when he finally spoke up, his voice raspy from all the screaming he did.

“It’s Kevin.” He turned around to face me. “I want my real mom and dad.”

I shook my head. “But my mom and dad are now yours too,” I said. I was such a selfless child, I figured, being so willing to share my parents.

Isaac just shook his head. “No. I don’t want them. I want mine. Your dad came into my bedroom and stole me.”

“You’re a liar.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “I hate you.”

Isaac shrugged. “Just ask him. I bet he killed my mommy and daddy so they wouldn’t look for me, either,” He said.

I stormed out, slamming his door a bit hard. But what Isaac said got to me. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, even when my dad came to tuck me in and kiss me goodnight. I even almost asked him. But I couldn’t make myself face the truth.

I barely got any sleep for a week. Every time I closed my eyes all I saw was Isaac, all alone under the stairs. Thinking about his real mom and dad.

I still didn’t do anything until I overheard my mom and dad talking about getting rid of Isaac.

It was late, probably close to midnight. I still couldn’t sleep so I was going to my parent’s room to ask for something to drink when I heard them talking.

“I told you, Isaac is too old. He’s too far gone. We can’t help him,” I heard my mom.

“Give it some more time, we can still help him!” My dad sounded so desperate, so… so sad.

“I’m sorry. But this was your rule, and breaking it was never going to end well. I’ll… I’ll take care of it myself tomorrow. Take Ella out while I handle Isaac. We’ll just tell her he ran away.”

Even at my young age I knew something really bad was going to happen to Isaac. And even if I hated him, I couldn’t let that happen.

I found the key to the handcuffs, ran into the basement and ripped open the door. Isaac, no, Kevin jolted up in bed. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

I didn’t say anything, I just slid the key into the lock and freed him. Kevin gaped as he pulled his hand free. “… But why?” He asked.

“We need to go to the cops. Come on, hurry!”

I took Kevin’s hand and we snuck out the back. I held onto his hand when we ran down the street, and I kept holding on when we finally came across a cop car. Of course, seeing these tiny tykes at that time of night got his attention.

I told him everything. About the children behind the bookcase, what I heard my mother plotting. All of it.

My life was turned upside down after that. All these children my parents had taken. Just little babies that were taken from their cribs in the middle of the night, the parents awaking to find their child was gone.

Kevin was right, he was the only one whose parents had been killed. Their throats had been cut open. My dad claimed that by the time he’d gotten there Kevin’s parents were already dead, but that really didn’t hold up in court. My mom swallowed a bottle of pills before she could be tried and my dad was sentenced to life in prison.

The last time I saw him, he just patted my shoulder and told me it wasn’t my fault how this all turned out.

He hung himself that night in his jail cell.

Now I was an orphan just like Kevin.

I went into the system, which was just as shitty as it sounds. I’ve literally done everything from sleeping on the floor to showering with my clothes on because I didn’t feel safe. I bounced from house to house until a great aunt crawled out of the woodwork to save me. She really didn’t do much other than clothe and feed me but that’s all I needed. By then I was fourteen, I could basically take care of myself.

The last thing she did for me was make sure I got my childhood home back. I know it’s fucked up, considering what went down there, but my heart ached whenever I passed it. No one ever bought it. The yard was unkempt, windows gathered dust and paint began to peel. But my aunt, penny pincher that she was her whole life, had saved enough to give me all I needed to scoop it off the market.

I’ve spent the last month cleaning up the place. It’s actually starting to look like a home, and it was only two nights ago that I stumbled across those old albums I told you about.

There was another one though, for all the kids my parents abducted. It was hidden behind a fake panel in the wall, I only found it because I accidentally kicked the damn thing. I contemplated just leaving it there. A part of my past I didn’t need to dig up.

But I went through it anyway… and there was so much I actually didn’t remember.

I didn’t remember that Robin’s eyes glowed ultraviolet in the dark. I didn’t remember that Andrew and Andrea never slept. I didn’t remember how Carol sprouted a mouth full of needle like teeth and had leathery wings jutting from her back. I didn’t remember that Ivy had patches of pale blue scales breaking up her otherwise dark skin. I didn’t remember that Ronnie’s ears came to a slender point and that he had a second set of near transparent eyelids. Kevin seemed normal, maybe, but now I’m not so sure. When I think of his hands, I remember how each fingertip ended in a sharp, bone claw.

I’ve not slept since then. I’ve stayed up to research those kids, my little brothers and sisters. In the news footage they looked normal enough… almost. If you squint you could almost see Ivy’s scales or Ronnie’s ears not looking right. But then you blink and they just look like normal little kids.

I’ve dug up their fates. They all went back to their families. But all their families are now all dead and have been for a while. Ivy’s family drowned, that much I confirmed. I think Ronnie’s dad just never woke up. The others I’m still researching.

And Kevin? His foster parents had their throats cut out one night. He’s never been seen since.

[aughby]

The Balcony Chronicles

It was nice being in a high-rise condominium with stunning views, a peaceful environment, and, as you realized later on, an interesting neighbor, Yuki Ishikawa. Yes, the Yuki Ishikawa we were talking about is the 28-year-old Japanese player who displayed a fierce look throughout his volleyball matches. On court, he is quite a serious player, but at home, he is a young kid trapped in a man’s body.

One night, you went to the balcony to watch the sunset, and you saw such an oddity. Having heard sounds of music coming from the adjacent unit, curiosity got the better of you, and you hanged half over the railing. And there was Yuki, dancing joyfully and very actively without paying attention to anyone around him. The guy was goofy and playful, which was quite a contrast from the smooth-moving athlete everyone had seen.

You stifled a laugh, and, unable to turn your head away, found yourself observing. Yuki was absolutely lost in his own world—he twirled and, at one point, made what I sincerely hoped was an attempt at break dancing. Just as you were about to take out your phone to record this great opportunity, he suddenly turned around and noticed you.

Within the blink of an eye, Yuki stood still. He was shocked and embarrassed. He quickly stood up as if nothing had happened to his body or to his breathing. He just gave a very rigid bow before going back into his place; you are left outside watching him with a breath torn between laughing and catching it.

As days passed, you began to see more of Yuki peculiarities, which you really never saw before. Sometimes it was possible to hear him singing, very loud and mostly tuneless, in his apartment. One time, it was a love ballad, thereby making him sing with the intensity of a pop star, all the way to the roof.

But the moment he laid his eyes on you up there on the balcony, he would immediately stop and then try to choke on his spit.

One evening you joked to make an attempt and open the conversation. “Great dancing skills, Yuki,” you said jokingly from my balcony, looking at him.

Yuki, who was about to water some plants, nearly let go of the watering can. “What on earth are you talking about? ”You replied quickly, attempting to do the ‘cool’ face.

“Oh really? ”You said with a laugh, “Are you sure you don't? "“Well, I might just have to share with your fans about some secret dance moves you do.”

Yuki’s face turned red. “You wouldn’t dare,” he growled, scowling at you while clearly recognizing embarrassment and amusement.

“Oh, but I would,” I said, “Unless... ”You paused and crossed your arms on the railing and rested your chin on your hands with an expression of wickedness on your face.

“Unless…? ”He scowled, rising from the chair.

“Unless you invite me to your next dance lesson, you know, a private show for the number one spectator. ”Yuki looked at you, and after a few seconds of silence, started to chuckle. It was somewhat unusual to find him in that state of mind: relaxed, happy, and free. “You’re impossible,” he said, laughing and then shaking his head. ”But sure. Whatever you want. Just don’t tell anyone, all right? ”

“No one will know it from me,” you reassured the other person.

From that day on, your evenings were spent sharing giggles, chatting, and competing in the quite stupid and juvenile dance battles. Although Yuki would initially look stern when he first saw you, he would soon scrunch up his face and make funny gestures, then ask you to play his crazy game.

You began to look forward to some moments where the normally stern Yuki would just sit back and enjoy himself. And in return, you never mentioned his outrageous behavior to anyone; you liked having this little secret that only you knew about.

There was once a night when you both decided to stay on the balconies, and while gazing at the night sky, Yuki turned to look at you with deep concentration. ‘Well, you know, despite all that, I’ve never let anybody get a glimpse of this part of me.’

“Why not? ”You asked me with that uncanny perplexed look on your face, which I found curious and amusing at the same time.

“I have always felt I needed to be in serous mode, but with you, I don’t know how it is, but it feels so relaxed.”

You smiled; you felt something warm in the middle of your chest. "Yeah, I enjoyed him too. Yes, he was so fun.”

Yuki grinned. “I am happy. But I'm telling you, if you disclose the information to anybody... ”

“No worry, Yuki, I won’t tell anyone about this, “you said, joking as you patted her on the back.

Your special kind of friendship ensued, and Yuki’s unusual personality was the sole way your friendship grew stronger day by day. In the world's view, he continued to be the indifferent, hardworking volleyball player. However, to you, he was much more than that; he was the man-child that loved novelty, the fun-loving man next door that one could wish for.

Yuki's POV

The latter days, or at least the period when you two met, something of you had slightly changed in Yuki’s eyes. During the day, you were quite cheerful and lively, always ready to laugh, even if it’s just to crack a joke. However, as evening came and you went to your balcony along with Yuki, you could feel some sadness in your tone, a certain weight in your eyes, which you tried to mask with a positive disposition.

It took one relatively calm night when Yuki started to realize what was actually happening. He always found himself coming out on the balcony to have a glimpse of you or how you are doing today, but that night, he saw you sitting on the corner of the balcony, bending your knees and pulling them to your chest, and gazing aimlessly at the horizon.

Yuki hesitated, unsure whether to say something. He didn’t want to intrude, but something about the way you were sitting—so still, unlike your usual self—made his chest tighten with concern.

“Hey,” he finally called out softly, not wanting to startle you. “Everything okay? ”

You didn’t respond right away. For a moment, Yuki thought you hadn’t heard him. But then you turned your head slowly, giving him a small, tired smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

But Yuki wasn’t convinced. He had seen that look before, in himself during his toughest times on the court, in teammates who were struggling but didn’t want to show it. It was the look of someone trying to keep it together when everything inside was falling apart.

“Are you sure? ”He pressed gently, leaning against the railing, trying to catch your gaze. “You don’t look fine.”

You let out a shaky breath and shrugged, your shoulders slumping in defeat. “I guess I’m not very good at hiding it anymore, huh? ”

Yuki’s heart clenched at the vulnerability in your voice. This wasn’t the cheerful, teasing person he had come to know. This was someone who was hurting, and he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

“Do you want to talk about it?”He asked, his tone softer than usual, filled with a concern he didn’t often show.

For a moment, you were silent, as if weighing your options. Then you began to speak, haltingly at first, but then the words started to flow. You told him about how you had always been the “happy one,” the person everyone relied on to bring a smile to their face. But as night fell, when the world was quiet, you were left alone with your thoughts, and the weight of your own struggles would bear down on you. You spoke of the loneliness, the self-doubt, the fear that you weren’t good enough—that no one really saw the real you, the one hiding behind the cheerful facade.

Yuki listened quietly, his chest aching with every word you said. He had never seen this side of you before, and it broke his heart to know that you had been carrying this burden alone.

“I had no idea,” Yuki said softly when you finished, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry you’ve been going through this.”

You looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes. “I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Yuki shook his head, his expression earnest. “You’re not a burden; you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here for you, okay? Anytime you need someone to talk to, or even if you just need someone to sit with you, I’m here.”

For the first time that evening, a genuine smile touched your lips, though it was small and fragile. “Thank you, Yuki. That means a lot.”

From that night on, things changed between you and Yuki. He became more attuned to your moods and more present during your evening chats. He always made an effort to check on you, asking how you were doing. And in return, you began to open up more, sharing the parts of yourself that you had kept hidden for so long.

Yuki found himself becoming more protective of you, more determined to be there for you in the way you had been for him. He admired your strength and your resilience, but he also wanted you to know that it was okay to lean on someone else—to lean on him.

And as the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the two of you grew closer. Yuki discovered that supporting you through your struggles made him feel more connected to you than ever. It wasn’t just about the fun, lighthearted moments anymore; it was about being there for each other through the highs and the lows.

One evening, as you both sat on your balconies, Yuki looked over at you and said, “You know, you’re not the only one with secrets.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What else are you hiding, Mr. Serious Athletic? ”

Yuki chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Well, for one, I never told anyone how much I enjoy these silly dance sessions. Or how much I’ve come to appreciate our little balcony chats.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you teased, though your smile was softer this time, more sincere.

“Deal,” Yuki agreed, holding out his pinky finger towards you.

You laughed, leaning over to hook your pinky with his, sealing the promise.

In that moment, Yuki realized just how much you had come to mean to him. You were more than just a neighbor, more than just a friend. You were someone he cared about deeply, someone he wanted to protect and support, no matter what.

And though he didn’t say it out loud, Yuki made a silent vow to himself that night: he would be there for you, always. No matter how tough things got, no matter how dark the nights became, you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Because sometimes even the strongest people needed someone to lean on. And Yuki was determined to be that person for you.

Weeks had passed since that night when you opened up to Yuki about your struggles. Since then, your bond has grown stronger, deepening beyond the playful exchanges and shared secrets. The balcony had become your shared sanctuary—a place where walls came down and genuine connection flourished.

Yuki found himself looking forward to your evening chats more than ever. His days were often packed with rigorous training and high-stakes matches, but the thought of unwinding on the balcony with you kept him going. There was a warmth and comfort in your presence that he hadn't realized he craved.

One Friday evening, after a particularly grueling week, Yuki stepped out onto his balcony carrying two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. He glanced over at your side, a smile tugging at his lips as he saw you already there, bundled up in a cozy sweater, gazing up at the stars.

"Rough day?" you asked, noticing the tired lines etched on his face.

"You could say that," Yuki replied, offering one of the mugs over the railing. "Thought you could use this."

Your eyes lit up as you accepted the warm drink, your fingers brushing against his momentarily, sending a subtle spark through both of you.

"Look at you, being all thoughtful," you teased, taking a sip. The rich, sweet flavor warmed you from the inside out. "Mmm, this is perfect. Thanks, Yuki."

He smiled softly, leaning against the railing as he took a sip from his own mug. The night was crisp, and the city lights below twinkled like fallen stars.

A comfortable silence settled between you, both of you simply enjoying the peaceful moment. After a while, Yuki spoke up, his voice quiet.

"You know, I don't think I've ever been this comfortable with anyone before."

You glanced over at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. "Really? Not even with your teammates?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "They're great, but it's different. With you, I feel like I can be myself—all parts of myself. The serious athlete, the goofy dancer, everything."

Your cheeks warmed, and it wasn't just from the hot chocolate. "Well, I like all versions of you. Makes life more interesting."

Yuki's gaze lingered on you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the city lights. There was something different in the way he was looking at you tonight—something deeper.

"I feel the same about you," he said softly. "You're always so full of life and positivity. Even when things are tough, you find a way to smile through it."

You looked down at your mug, swirling the liquid inside to avoid his piercing gaze. "It's easier when you have someone to share it with."

Another silence fell, this one charged with unspoken emotions. Yuki felt his heart beat a little faster, a realization slowly dawning on him. These feelings—this warmth, this yearning—it was more than just friendship.

He cleared his throat, attempting to steady his nerves. "Hey, I was thinking... there's this new exhibit at the art museum downtown. Would you maybe want to check it out with me tomorrow? I mean, if you're free."

You looked up, surprised but pleased by the invitation. "Are you asking me out on a date, Yuki Ishikawa?"

He hesitated for a split second before responding, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, that depends. Would you say yes if I was?"

A smile spread across your face, your eyes dancing with mirth. "I suppose I might be persuaded."

Yuki grinned, feeling a surge of excitement and relief. "Then yes, I'm asking you out on a date."

"Then yes, I'd love to go," you replied, your smile matching his.

The next day, Yuki found himself more nervous than he had been before any championship game. He dressed carefully, opting for a casual yet stylish look, and even took extra time to make sure his hair was just right. When he met you in the lobby, his breath caught in his throat. You looked stunning, your eyes bright, and a hint of nervousness mirroring his own.

The museum was bustling with people, but to Yuki, it felt like it was just the two of you. You wandered through the exhibits, discussing the art pieces, sharing jokes, and learning more about each other with every step.

At one point, you both stopped in front of a large painting depicting a serene landscape. The soft hues and tranquil scene seemed to envelop you in a bubble of calm.

"This one's beautiful," you murmured, your eyes fixed on the canvas.

"Yeah," Yuki agreed, though his gaze had shifted to you. "It really is."

You turned to find him looking at you, his expression tender and open. The air between you grew thick with anticipation, and for a moment, the world around you faded away.

Before either of you could second-guess it, Yuki leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn't. You tilted your head up, meeting him halfway as your lips brushed softly against each other.

The kiss was gentle, sweet, and filled with unspoken promises. When you pulled apart, both of you were smiling, cheeks flushed, and hearts pounding.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while," Yuki confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Me too," you admitted, your eyes shining with happiness.

The rest of the day was a blur of laughter, stolen glances, and subtle touches. By the time you returned to your building, it was clear that something had shifted between you two. The friendship and camaraderie were still there, but now they were intertwined with a blossoming romance that felt as natural as breathing.

As you stood outside your respective doors, Yuki hesitated before speaking. "So, does this mean you'll stop threatening to expose my secret dance moves?"

You laughed, the sound making his heart soar. "Hmm, I think I might still hold that over your head. Keeps things interesting."

He chuckled, stepping closer and taking your hand in his. "I can live with that, as long as I get to take you out again."

"I'd like that," you replied, squeezing his hand gently.

From that day on, your evenings on the balcony took on a new dimension. There were still the playful dance-offs and shared stories, but now there were also soft kisses under the stars, whispered confessions, and the comforting presence of knowing you had someone to share both your joys and your struggles with.

Yuki found that being with you brought a balance to his life that he hadn't known he needed. You grounded him, made him laugh, and reminded him to enjoy the little moments amidst the chaos of his career. And in turn, he was there for you, offering support and love through both the light and dark times.

One night, as you cuddled together on his balcony, wrapped in a warm blanket and watching the city lights twinkle below, Yuki pressed a kiss to your forehead and murmured, "You make me incredibly happy, you know that?"

You looked up at him with your eyes filled with affection. "And you make me feel like I'm not alone anymore."

He smiled, pulling you closer. "You're not. We're in this together."

As the night enveloped you both, the sounds of the city fading into the background, you realized that sometimes the most unexpected connections could lead to the most beautiful love stories. And all it took was a shared balcony, a few secret dance moves, and the courage to let each other in.

[trafficyuri-polycule]

Later that night Gem found herself dreaming. Normally, these weren’t important. Key word: normally.

This time, she was staring straight at Scott. It was just the two of us. Then, the enderman. A silly mistake. Then, I was in the end falling, falling, falling…

Gem woke with a start, hearing a scream. There were tears running down both sides of her face. Wait, both sides? That wasn’t possible. Gem could only cry from the side not consumed in void. 

Wait, she could hear someone else crying. That scream from earlier was feminine. Gem didn’t scream when she woke up. The other girls weren’t even close for Gem to hear. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!

Wait! Slow down! What are you talking about? Where are you? Who are you?

You can hear me? Yeah?

I didn’t think you’d be able to. I thought I’d just be a passenger.

The silence was thick. Whilst it was Gems own thoughts, right? No, I’m me, I’m something else. Who are you? Lizzie, I’m Lizzie! I heard you near the Secret Keeper! You were talking about Scott, and—Gem cut off. A chill went up her voided half. That was your memory of the end, wasn’t it. Yes. It was lonely, so I took the first chance I got at seeing someone again. So you went into my body. I didn’t know what it was! Everything went dark, and I saw what looked like the Overlworld, so I jumped at the chance! I didn’t realize I’d be playing passenger. Ok. This is new. Can you make me do anything? Not that I’m aware of, maybe subconscious things, but nothing that’d be out of your control. Is there any way for us to separate? Not that I want you gone! Just when the games over and everything, we both have lives to get back to. Can we figure that out when it comes. I don’t want to be alone again. Not for a while. I don’t mind. It’s nice having someone to talk to. Together til the end? To the end.

🧀 (2/2) Part 2! Since I have no plans for predictions of how the series will go for Gem, we’re going to move into the two splitting up, and what happens after.

Cheese anon I love this so so sooo much and I hav become invested and I will draw stuff for it once I have the motivation to!!!

[talonslockau]

Forest of Secrets - Chapter 32

Chapter 31 || Index || Chapter 33

Fireheart settled comfortably into the frozen grass beside the warriors’ den, watching the camp around him settle down for the night. He had just finished visiting his sister and her five kits, which were quickly growing bigger as the days passed. Their eyes and ears were just starting to open, though it would be another half-moon before they could see beyond their own nest and begin to understand words. 

He had no responsibilities for the night or the morning after - Tigerclaw had either granted him a small reprieve from the constant barrage of duties or forgotten to punish him thanks to the night’s Gathering. The Gathering patrol had left for Fourtrees just as the moon was beginning to rise, and it looked to be a quiet night in camp until their return.

The thought nagged at something in the back of his head, and he sat up quickly with a frown. It wasn’t just quiet, he realized - it was too quiet. Only a pawful of warriors had stayed behind tonight, Fireheart and Cinderspark among them. Back when they were apprentices, that would have meant that she would stay up to chatter everyone’s ears off about what might be happening at the Gathering. But now, she was nowhere to be seen.

A quick glance around camp confirmed his suspicions - the dark gray molly had vanished. Tinyfrost and Willowbranch were on guard duty for the night, not that guard duty had ever stopped Cinderspark from being loud and obnoxious. He glanced into the warriors’ den, wondering if perhaps she had decided to get an early night’s sleep, but her nest beside his was empty. The more he thought, the more worried he became.

Where in Starclan’s name could she be? He looked around camp once more, anxiety beginning to gnaw at him, before his sights finally settled on the elders’ den, where Speckleflight and One-eye were casually talking to each other. Perhaps she was with Snowkit, given that she had often played with the young tom even before he had joined the elders’ den - not to mention he didn’t see the familiar white form next to his mother. 

He stood up, stretching out his limbs before padding over to the two elders, trying not to seem concerned. “Good evening, One-eye, Speckleflight.” He purred politely, giving them each a respectful nod. “Is Snowkit around?”

Speckleflight’s golden gaze narrowed slightly, and she looked away with a flick of her tail. “He just went off to the dirtplace.” She replied coldly, her voice devoid of the warmth she normally spoke about her son with. 

“I see.” He frowned, trying not to let his nerves overwhelm him. He somehow doubted that even Cinderspark would follow a friend to make dirt. “Well, have you seen Cinderspark anywhere, then? I noticed she’s not in her den, and-”

THUD!

He startled slightly as the fallen tree of the elders’ den shook from the force of some unseen impact. “What was that?” He growled, suddenly on high alert. Had a fox or badger gotten into camp without anyone noticing?

“What was what?” Even as she spoke, Speckleflight seemed almost as unnerved as he was. “I didn’t hear anything, and I haven’t seen Cinderspark, either. Now go away; we hardly need any nosy toms interrupting us.”

“I know I heard something.” He squinted, trying to peer into the darkness of the elders’ den, but he didn’t see anything inside. “You two stay here - I’ll take a look.”

“No!” He blinked as Speckleflight sharply rose to her paws to block him. “I mean - no, it’s fine. If you’re really so worried, I’ll go check it out myself.” She tried to play it off as nonchalance, but he could see a growing desperation in her eyes.

He stared at her, trying to parse her strange behavior. It felt familiar, and though he hesitated to push the queen, he felt he’d come to regret walking away now. “Is everything alright, Speckleflight? Nothing’s threatening Snowkit?” Normally, if her kit was in danger, Speckleflight would be the first to ask for a patrol to go looking for him. Why was that not the case now?

“No! Of course not. Snowkit is- he’s fine.” Her desperation and bluster were replaced by a sudden certainty, and he relaxed slightly. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon. There’s no need to bother him.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Speckleflight.” One-eye huffed from where she was lounging beside the other elder. “He’s basically figured it out. You might as well tell him.”

“Tell me what?” He squinted at the white elder, who was staring patiently at her companion. As he did, that nagging in his subconscious grew stronger, and it slowly dawned on him why the newest elder was acting this way. She was acting just like he had when Tinyfrost had confronted him about Ravenspirit. He turned to her, his gaze softening. “Speckleflight, I - I promise you, as long as it doesn’t break the code, I won’t tell a soul if something is going on with Snowkit. I didn’t tell anyone he was deaf, did I? You know a secret will be safe with me.”

The dappled golden queen paused, surveying him with a narrow gaze. At last, she sighed and looked down at her paws. “Cinderspark is training him, in the space behind our den.” She mewed wearily, all of the fight leaving her as she spoke. 

“Training him?” Fireheart blinked at her in confusion.

“Teaching him to hunt, how to fight. Things a mentor would teach him if he were an apprentice.” Speckleflight snapped, her eyes narrowing to thin slits. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“No! No, I-” He paused, trying to compose his thoughts. “I just didn’t expect Cinderspark to be doing something like that for him. I’m glad she is, though. What Bluestar did to him… it’s not right.” His whiskers curled slightly at the memory. He didn’t know what place in the Clan there was for a deaf cat, but he was certain that Snowkit didn’t belong in the nursery or the elders’ den. “I’ll keep this a secret, Speckleflight. Snowkit deserves the chance to prove himself. Does anyone else know?”

The two elders visibly relaxed as he spoke. “All the elders do. Some are less favorable to it than others… but they’ve all kept quiet.” Speckleflight answered, her tail tip still twitching from the tension.

“I imagine Patchpelt can’t be pleased with having his snoozing interrupted.” Fireheart purred in response, even as he admired the dedication of the small group of retired warriors. They were some of the most gossip-prone cats in the Clan - asking them to keep a secret as big as this one wasn’t a simple favor, and that they were complying showed a sense of loyalty to the former queen and her young kit he hadn’t expected. “May I go see them? I’d like to see what Cinderspark is teaching him - and who knows, perhaps I can give them a few tips, myself.”

Speckleflight regarded him with a guarded curiosity. “I suppose so.” She relented at last, sweeping her tail towards a small gap beneath the tree that he hadn’t given notice to before. “If you go under there you’ll find them. Just be careful - they can get a bit rough sometimes.”

The two elders waved farewell to him and went back to talking as he ducked under the fallen log. He had just looked up to see a large white blur flying at him.

He rolled out of the way, watching as Snowkit slammed into the spot where he’d been with a wheeze. Cinderspark stood in the middle of the small space behind the elders’ den, which was not quite as big as the training hollow, but still much larger than he had anticipated.

“Fireheart?” The dark gray molly gasped as the two toms got to their feet. “What are you doing back here? Where’s Speckleflight and One-eye?”

He blinked at her, suddenly realizing why the two elders had been sitting outside the den rather than napping inside - they’d been keeping guard. It also occurred to him that it had been quite some time since he’d seen the space outside the elders’ den empty. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized what had been happening sooner. “They told me what you’ve been up to lately. I came back here to see how it was going.” He looked over Snowkit, who looked surprisingly upbeat given he had just been thrown across the clearing. “And it seems to be going very well.”

Cinderspark chuffed happily. “We’re practicing using an opponent’s momentum against them! I guess you must’ve heard it even in camp, though.” She frowned and looked down at her paws as she thought about it for a moment. “I suppose the training hollow must be empty with the Gathering. We can probably move up there instead, before someone else catches us.”

“Well, I actually came looking for you. I got worried when I noticed nobody talking my ear off.” He teased, whiskers twitching in amusement as the young molly pouted at him. “But if you keep throwing each other around like that, someone will probably notice eventually.”

“Yeah. The elders keep quiet, but if some cat like Dustleap found out…” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Hey, Fireheart! Now that you know, would you be willing to help me teach Snowkit a little? Speckleflight tries, but she’s too soft on him. But with your help, we could really teach him how to deal with tag-teaming, and stuff like that!”

He considered the proposition for a moment. He was tempted to say no - he was busy with so many other things these days, between hunting for Princess and keeping up with patrols. Still, he had come back here under the intention of doing that very thing - and he also felt guilty thinking of Snowkit, bored out of his mind in the elders’ den instead of getting to do normal apprentice things. “I’m pretty busy with hunting fresh-kill for my sister and her kits these days, but if I happen to have free time, I’ll see if I can’t stop by.” He mewed at last.

“Thank you Fireheart!” She almost collided with him as she raced over to give him thanks, causing him to wince in pain. “Hey, lemme just tell Snowkit what’s going on, and then we can get right over to the training hollow!”

He watched her launch into a series of movements, some he vaguely recognized from her explaining when he’d first found out the tom was deaf. He was glad that she had found something to direct all her energy into, and that thing was something that could truly make a difference in the Clan. He hoped, one day, that Snowkit might be able to get a proper apprenticeship, and with Cinderspark’s help he imagined one day the white tom might get that chance.

“C’mon, Fireheart! We’re off to the training hollow!” He blinked out of his thoughts at Cinderspark’s yowl, seeing that Snowkit had already ducked under the tree barrier and that the gray molly was about to follow behind. With a smile, he did the same. It felt good to be able to help another cat with their problems, simple as they were, for a change. It was certainly a welcome distraction from everything else happening.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Strawberry field

warning : fluff, tiny comfort, kiss, implied secret relationship, cheating, having feelings for eachother

Samuel Lafferty x fem reader

masterlist

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

The warm summers in Utah were long, tough and warm above all. Besides the normal things to cool off like ice cream, a fan, swimming or just escaping into the shade. There were also the sun worshippers and beach goers who just looked forward to the sun and the tan - a good day at the beach. Or a day in the cool house with the family playing board games.

Whatever you did, there was always something to spend. Or you went to an ice cream parlour and bought an gelato, to the lake for a swim or just to walk around it. Or just jumping into your own cool pool, there really was a lot to do - at first glance everyone seemed to be having fun.

But then there was Y/n, the young saleswoman/cashier at the large field of strawberries at the edge of the town, which adjoined the whole field and stood there. Under the small shelter that looked like a big red strawberry and showed a sign with prices and opening hours.

Although she almost died from the heat and her vision showed once too many strawberries, she was still quite stable. Even though the movement to the baskets she handed to the shoppers was now automatic. Just like the collecting and weighing before she hid the visitors from the consumers with a ,,I hope you like them".

As well as removing a spider from small children or helping them up and shouting at them when they stepped on the strawberries. ,,Only two more hours" she muttered as she looked at her watch and sighed for the hundredth time as the sun seemed to torment her even more.

But her colleagues had also finished their shift an hour ago and she was left behind. ,,Only for a tenner more" she grumbled and inwardly slapped herself on the forehead that she had let herself be persuaded to do the extra shift. It was just too hot and too much and definitely too many kids.

Laying back down at the wooden counter and drinking her soda, which was already warm, she almost choked when she saw Samuel Lafferty coming towards her with his daughters in tow. Thank you dear sun for bringing him here she prayed to the celestial body as she felt her senses seem to go out of control.

Concentrating on him and completely blocking out the screaming children. She hadn't really gotten over him since she had to look after his children. It might have been a little more than a crush, but this one was unexpected, wasn't it?

Smiling at him, she straightened up slightly from her tired posture and leaned forward slightly. ,,Good day Samuel, how are you?" she asked and already had three baskets in her hand which were taken from her by his children who did not listen to their father and just ran off.

,,Little beasts as you can see we are doing too well" he mumbled with a chuckle and looked after his children before turning to her and taking out his wallet. ,,And yet we love them," she replied and saw his smirk as his bright blue eyes caught hers before she took his money and gave him a basket as well. Just as she was about to take her hand back, he suddenly held it more firmly.

It was not painful, but rather friendly, engaging. Caring. ,,How about I pay you a ten more and then you come and pick strawberries you have to get back before you get here so one round?" he asked and gave her a smile even though there was a hint of excitement in his eyes as if he was just waiting for a suitable answer.

,,I don't know," she mumbled and looked around the shelter as if her boss was standing there watching her. ,,Come on, it'll be fun," she heard his voice before a defeated smile spread across her face and she came out of the shelter before standing next to him and the two of them walked behind the children.

She felt her gaze land on him again and again his hair, which he had tied into a braid, had lost a few strands that played around his face. Not here, she admonished herself as she suppressed the urge to brush the strand of hair from his face and began to pick a few strawberries with him.

Choosing the most beautiful among the remaining ones left behind, she put them one by one into the small basket. She heard him murmur a song she had already heard him sing. Together with his family in the church, she had only gone because of him.

But every damn minute had been worth it. To have received the body from him, to put the plate on her tongue, not breaking eye contact, and to drink the wine from the chalice he held out to her. A pleasant shiver of memories came over her as she thought back to the many services.

Looking at Samuel he saw him looking at a relatively large, well-formed strawberry, his fingers lightly rolling it back and forth before he murmured, ,,You look good," before gently placing the strawberry in his basket and Y/n seriously considered for a moment whether it was still about the strawberry or something else entirely.

Agreeing with him, the two continued to collect strawberries before they heard the happy laughter of the children running back to their father who greeted them happily. ,,Well then, let's go back," he announced, carrying all the baskets with him, even if a little crookedly, but still with a proud smile.

The first few metres, on the other hand, went well. Well, except that the cry of one of his children jolted him out of concentration so that he didn't see the root on the ground in front of him and took a lunge.

Before some of the inherited berries scattered on the ground. After realising that his children were fine, he sighed and knelt down to put the strawberries back into the basket. Y/n didn't waste a second before she knelt down and helped put the strawberries away, earning a ,,Thank you my dear" from Samuel.

In a typical cliche, they both grabbed a strawberry at the same time and neither really knew who to let go. ,,Thanks again for doing all this," he said suddenly, handing the heirloom to her even though a fonger remained on her hand for a moment longer than was necessary.

Watching him rise and help her up, she replied, ,,Sure, I'd be happy to do it for you and the others". Before the two of them looked at each other one more time before they went back towards the beginning and with it the shelter.

Adding her own basket to the ones already there, she stood behind the trusses and began to pack the earth berries. Completely absorbed, she watched Sammuel look at another strawberry and then ate it.

How do I become a strawberry? she asked herself before she turned back to packing, shaking her head slightly. ,,Say, sweetheart, how would you like to babysit again like you did back then?" he asked, leaning slightly on the wood and leaning forward, the smell of wood and leather coming clearly to her.

And once again she felt the connection flash. ,,Of course, when should I come?" she agreed, already feeling the anticipation of not only taking care of his enchanting children again, but also of being with him indirectly.

Slight surprise showed on her face as he came closer and closer. ,,Tonight would be best and well...I would like to reward you with a dinner in a restaurant" he spoke more calmly but not full of shame.

On the contrary, he seemed more than sure of himself. No direct payment but a meal alone with him she thought and the smirk on her lips seemed to please him more and more.

She felt his fingers go to a strand of her hair and twirl it slightly before he slid his fingers down her arm to her hands. ,,I'll take that as a yes...see you later my dear" he mumbled.

In a moment when they both seemed alone he kissed her hand gently before taking the strawberries and giving her one last loving look before walking back to the car with his children. ,,A date how scandalous" she muttered as she realised that the normally devout Samuel Lafferty was anything but. No, he was a sinner in his lust eaten inerem. And she was his sin that wanted him all the more.

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

@707otto , @roryculkinsbf thought you too might like it

[soshiharin]

better than this world tour: new york

SETLIST

STYLING

CELEBS IN ATTENDANCE

— sabrina carpenter

— barry keoghan

— gigi hadid

— kelly clarkson

— ayo edebiri

HIGHLIGHTS

— it would not be an exaggeration to say that this was the most anticipated stop on the tour

— new york sones are lucky

— waiting for you now *gina linetti dancing gif*

— and bad ending??? yeah

— harin: hi madison square garden. i’m harin and we will spend the next two hours together. i hope this is enjoyable for you

— sone: I LOVE YOU

— harin: thank you

— the way her reply was so quick!

— everybody’s new fave plastic off the sofa was sung

— and dangerous woman 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

— better is that girl!

— and so is bounce back

— bother me outfit was soooo cute!

— and sweet fantasy had the crowd up and singing!

— so did you make me happy which was a surprise

— it would be a lie to say that pporappippam’s outfit did not cause a few hearts to stop

— bcs i mean… look at the material

— like it’s gorgeous

— secret love song highnote was GIVING

— she swapped out in the bed for breathin’ and the vocal slayage… yeah

— the encore stage took a while to start and everyone started chanting for harin obvi

— some sones had started singing genie in hopes that they’d get harin to perform it

— and then the words that caused sones everywhere to drop dead in unison

— “MADISON SQUARE GARDEN PUT IT BACK ON!!!”

— and then the last chorus of genie started playing and fans started screaming bcs there were FIVE (5) people on stage

— everyone obvi sang along to harin’s adlibs bcs theyre iconic💅🏾💅🏾

— and you know that stadium was LOUD and then you just got locals who are like🧍🧍😐 “what is going on”

— like the fanchants were heard from blocks away

— and you’ve got hyoyeon, tiffany, harin, sooyoung, and seohyun just slaying houses and boots down

— what a time, what a moment

— and the cheers continued even after they did their ending pose and the lights went off

— then the lights came back on and everyone could see the members clearly so the cheers got louder

— once more, the locals were just a teeny weeny bit super duper confused but they cheered along for support

— and as we all know, when two or more soshi members gather, chaos follows

— bcs why were they having full conversations on stage and having to constantly be reminded that they were at harin’s concert (not by her though bcs she was also invested in the convos)

— and at some point, hyoyeon gasped

— sooyoung: what’s the matter?

— hyoyeon: this is harin-ah’s concert and we’re taking up time

— seohyun: so thoughtful

— harin: but this works out for them bcs they keep complaining the concerts are too short so you can talk as much nonsense as you want

— and sones are just watching their interactions so happily, just soaking in the moment

— harin: you guys kept harassing me about “madison square garden, put it back on” so i made it happen. this kind of situation will never happen again, so don’t get any ideas

— and the members talked for a while just among themselves again

— seohyun: the people here that aren’t sones probably don’t know who we are

— you can always trust seohyun to be practical

— harin: then they can search you😐

— you can always trust harin to be blunt

— but they did end up introducing themselves bcs duh!

— and then they started walking off stage to let harin continue her concert but she stopped them

— harin: sit there *points at a little section of the stage where there are cushions to sit on*

— sooyoung, teasing: why? do you miss us already?

— harin: i want you there🙄 ur presence is comforting🙄🙄🙄

— seohyun, dragging everyone to sit down: unnie, i’m blushing🤭🤭

— and harin is just rolling her eyes but whats new?

— back to scheduled programming

— the encore continued like it normally does

— and her ending ment had people crying

— harin: this brings us near the end of the concert, just two more songs. thank you for coming and spending time with me tonight. i hope this was a good experience for you, see you tomorrow if you’ll be here tomorrow. and thank you to my angels over here, of course. i already told you when you arrived, but just having you on stage with me gives me a lot of strength, comfort, and peace of mind. let’s share many more stages together in the future

— and miss girl didn’t give the translator any time to translate it bcs she wasn’t saying it to the crowd, she was saying it to the members and they all knew what she was saying

— she fully went to the members’ little nook when singing my only love bcs who else is her only love🤨🤨🤨

— and then goodnight everyone!

— you already know #putitbackon and #soshimsg were trending on twitter afterwards

©️ jang harin