#tomorrow is the last day of instruction BUT i believe he's still going to have office hours

[anemonelovesfiction]

19~ Jerk Off Instruction

Recom Quaritch x Fem ! Human Reader

Warnings ⚠️: Slightly jealous Quaritch, mean Quaritch, no orgasm, masturbation, fingering (self), mentions of eating out

Not Proofread

MDNI 🔞

I’m so sad that tomorrow is the last day, but so glad we made it this far!

Word Count: 1.8K

That’s it.

That was the last straw.

I’d grown sick and tired of having to watch this girl think she can have her way by flirting with a bunch of recombinant’s in my presence. She had taken to sitting in front of Mansk and placed her hand on his arm, slowly treading it up his arm as she wonders if he can let her borrow his sunglasses just to see how much bigger they’d be on her face.

I cross my arms and watch her continue her charade as I roll my eyes, Zdinarsik letting out a chuckle as she looked at Y/n and back at me, shaking her head lightly as she stands to walk elsewhere.

“Come on, lemme try them on, I want to see how big they are on my face,” She starts to whine as Mansk raises his brow, ready to give in at any moment, but before he does I start walking and making my way over toward them.

“Alright, you’re done.” I reach over to grasp her by her bicep, tugging on her arm lightly and watch as she scrambles to get her legs to work together as she speed walks beside me and slightly behind.

“What are you- are you mad?” She huffs as she attempts to keep up with my pace and is still unable to process any of what she has done, but the fact of the matter was, she was going to be punished in the worst way possible, and I knew everything she hated.

I continued in silence as we walked the endless hallway down a familiar path. I had yet to let go of her arm or slow down my pace, not caring to check to see if she was comfortable or not as this was part of the punishment. I finally reached the hallway in which my room was kept and marched up to the door, opening it with my free hand and nearly throwing her in the room, taking a quick second to kick the door behind me to close it, my eyes never leaving hers as I locked it.

“I want to know what possessed you into thinking it was alright for you to be touching on another man like that.” I stated with my arms crossed as she stood before me with a pout on her lips from not knowing what she had done wrong. I was never the jealous type and she knew that, but I was pissed off at how long she’d kept bothering him.

“I-I just w-wanted to try on his sunglasses,” She began, holding a hand close to her chest as she spewed out her pathetic excuse, I read a study that stated if you were quiet for a while after someone had answered a question they were more likely to continue talking like an idiot to try to get you to believe them, so I stayed silent in an attempt to see how desperate she could get.

“I didn’t know they made them that big-“ She babbled on and all I did was grab the chair that had been tucked in beneath my desk, sitting on it backward, using the back support of the chair to settle my crossed arms, allowing my hands to dangle down with the gravity, not bothering to hear her out anymore.

“Strip.” I stated blankly only to watch her freeze, a quick worried glance fills her features and she opens her mouth to speak but quickly closes it, she was probably wondering if it was worth arguing to worsen her punishment. She simply looks down and starts taking her clothes off. She kicked off her shoes quickly and shimmies herself out of her pants, kicking them off in the same direction she had done with her shoes, she’s quick to take her shirt off over her head and reaches for her underwear.

“Ah ah ah-“ I stop her and as soon as her eyes lock with mine I shake my head once, telling her I’d appreciate it if she kept her underwear on with one action, seeing her hands come off her underwear as if they were on fire, settling them to her sides.

“Lay down in the bed.” I commanded and she starts by sitting at the edge of the bed, sliding back bit by bit before finally laying down, hands right on her sides, I could see her stomach moving with every breath and it was quiet for a second before I decided to get started.

“I want you to lightly trace your fingers alongside your collarbone, and slowly down your sides, but don’t touch anything else.” I started and notice her hands following my instructions, her skin erupting in goose bumps as the tips of her fingers dance around her sides, her breath hitching. Her fingers already reaching the hem of her thong and her hands starting to glide back up her sides, I hum in approval and notice her goosebumps returning.

“Cup your tits and squeeze ‘em, run a finger alongside your nipples while you do that, won’t you?” I asked knowing she would immediately follow my commands, her greedy hands quickly moving over her breasts, her fingers caressing her nipples, watching the soft fabric showing her growing arousal as her nipples harden underneath.

“Pinch them.” And she moans loudly when she pinches her nipples through the laced fabric of her bra, taking a second to twist her little fingers around her delicate nipples and I can feel a twitch down my own pants.

“You’re doing good for me.” I readjusted myself in my chair, taking my hands from the backrest and sliding them onto my thighs, wiping the sweat that had started to form on them as I gulp shamelessly at the sight before me, watching as her fingers start tugging on her nipples and her whimpers start growing louder.

“Take it off.” I allow her the freedom of taking her bra off and watch as she giddily sets up slightly, fumbling with the laced fabric behind her before finally unclasping her bra, hands returning toward her nipples as she slowly caressed them, gasping at her own touch.

“You wish I could touch you right now hm?” The question was rhetorical but I knew she would still attempt an answer, what I didn’t know is that it would be in the form of a short cry, filled with so much desperation I could feel another twitch from my own nether region.

“Go ahead, I’ll be nice for now, you can tease your lips.” I smile internally at my own comment as she wanted more than that, but I had to allow her to do things sparingly, because I was in charge of running this show, not her.

Her little hand is guided down toward her clothed pussy, aching to touch her nub but running her fingers alongside her lips instead, one hand still grasping her now naked breast as she flicks her nipple with her thumb. And how ignorant I had been to the patch of wetness growing on her thong, knowing her cunt needed to be touched, but avoiding it as long as I could. But the slow growing tightness in my own pants was making it harder for me to withstand this torture wanting to get my dick wet in her delicious pussy.

“Please Quaritch,” She moans and lets out a warbled cry after, she sounded pathetic, but she was right where I wanted her.

“Rub that pretty pearl.” I stated and I could see the tension drop in her shoulders just as I grin, tongue running alongside my canines as I add the most crucial detail, knowing it would frustrate her.

“Slowly.”

Her finger ghosts over her clit, almost as of she was teasing herself more than she needed to, but I could almost applaud her efforts as she knew exactly what I needed her to do, her entire body shivering as a long low moan is released from her pretty mouth. I can feel my dick twitch underneath my pants as I hear it, wishing I could shove myself deep in her throat or deep in her cunt.

“You can go a little faster.” I admit I wanted to see how long it would take her to lose control over my ministrations but she seemed to be following every command well, I didn’t have to stop to correct her, but I think she knows how much trouble she’s in to suddenly want to follow my instructions.

A half sigh half moan leaves her mouth as she begins to rub her clit just a little faster, taking the time to switch the nipple she’d been teasing as she reaches across her chest desperate to flick it.

“You’re doing well for me.” I complimented her as I watch her fingers falter and start rubbing faster without my saying, but I didn’t want to call her out just yet, I wanted her to enjoy herself as well, especially with me watching her to make sure she doesn’t reach an orgasm.

“I bet that feels real nice, why don’t you go faster for me, maybe sneak a finger or two in if you want.” I added just to see her head pop up to see if I was being honest.

“Tch-“ I click my tongue and move my head to motion her to move her underwear to the side, she does just that and dives her finger right into her sopping cunt, the sounds coming from it making me start to stiffen up.

“Come on, use your other hand.” I stated as if it were obvious thats what I wanted, her other hand reaching over to slide her thong over to the side even more, her hand immediately starting to rub on her clit at a quick pace. She was greedily shoving three fingers inside herself and keeping pace with the finger on her nub, quick and nasty, the wetness was overbearing and I could feel my own cock hardening to full length in my pants.

I’d be lying if I didn’t want to reach over and stroke myself at this very moment as the sounds from that woman were starting to get to me but I knew myself better than that and maintained my composure.

I smiled at her enthusiasm but knew if I didn’t cut this short she was bound to orgasm soon, so I stood up off the chair, feeling my pants restrict themselves tightly over my hard cock, I casually walk over without rushing myself as I eyed her hands, gently placing my own hands on her thighs as I sink down to my own knee’s on the floor.

“Stop.” I stated with authority and watch as her fingers immediately still, finger coming off her clit, fingers sliding out her cunt, and the permanent scowl she held when she was unhappy with my decisions, but I didn’t pay any attention to that as I made direct eye contact with her and spoke in a stern voice.

“Now I’m going to enjoy myself a nice meal. If you interrupt me or if you come, you’ll be quick to regret that, you hear me?”

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Part 1

Pairing: Dean W. x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 2,000 Warnings: Some angst

Part 1: Proximity

You’ve grown up watching your parents. At fourteen, you already understood how rare their relationship was—high school sweethearts, married for sixteen years, and certified soulmates.

Apparently it was even more rare to find your soulmate so early in life, but as Mom said, Sometimes the universe helps you out.

But you just started high school, and after surveying the pool of guys you have to work with, you really hope that “universe” stuff is just wishful thinking.

Because just this morning, Danny Schmitt got his hand stuck in the automatic stapler during Math class. Meanwhile, his friends were collecting bets on how many stitches he was going to need once they finally pried his fingers out.

Dad would call those guys dumbasses. You were inclined to agree.

You looked away from the scene (there was a lot of blood, and now your teacher was trying to free Danny with the only tool in the utility closet: a large hammer). But you couldn’t focus on your busy work like your teacher instructed either.

Sometimes, you still found it hard to believe your parents had met in high school. They had such an easy way between them, and not just because they could hear one another’s thoughts.

Mom was a kindergarten teacher, patient, kind, and encouraging. She came from a family of professors and school administrators, who frankly thought she could’ve done more with her life than “wipe five year olds’ noses.” Last Thanksgiving, she smiled and told Great Aunt Janet, “At least my five year olds can wipe their own asses.”

Smirking, Dad had followed up with, “How’s the incontinence, Jan? Ain’t lettin’ up at all?”     

Dad was a cop, though he wasn’t as strict as he could've been. Or as dumb as cops seemed to be in the movies.

No, your dad could be stern, but he was always fair, even if you…didn’t really hang out with him much. Mom was basically your best friend, while Dad was often too busy to know what was going on in your life.

Really, you just couldn’t see what your parents had in common, other than the dusty, midwestern town where they’d grown up. (Speaking of which, you shivered and zipped your coat higher up on your neck. Even indoors, winter in South Dakota was nothing to sneeze at.)

But your parents would share a look sometimes. Your mom would smile, and your dad’s mouth would quirk up at the corner, his eyes softening in a way they only did for her. And then you’d remember that they had their own world that you couldn’t really understand just yet.

“All right,” your teacher said. He wiped sweat from his brow while Danny’s friends carried him off to the nurse’s office. The stapler was in pieces on the floor, but poor Danny still had two huge staples in his index and ring fingers. “I think we’re done for the day. Just finish workbook pages for chapter three and we’ll cover it tomorrow.”

Yes! Math was not your strongest subject, but even you could finish four more square root problems. The teacher’s desk phone rang while you gathered your backpack and books. You were about to leave the classroom when your teacher called you back. You didn’t like the somber look on his face.

“You need to get to the principal’s office,” he said. “Your dad is there waiting for you.”

You didn’t know it then, but today was the day your childhood died—after Dad sat you down and told you what happened to your mom.

Winter in South Dakota was harsh. It could even be dangerous, especially on icy roads shared with grocery truck haulers.

They buried Mom in the same cemetery as your grandparents and your aunt (not Janet, by the way. You didn’t really remember your Aunt Karen, but your dad always avoided talking about his sister). The cemetery was small, but you guessed that made sense for a smallish town like Sioux Falls.

You stayed there until everyone else who loved your mom was gone, and it was just you and your dad left.

You didn’t bother to wipe your tears—not until your dad set a hand on your shoulder. You tried to wipe them away quickly, even though you didn’t really know why you didn’t want him to see you crying. He just gave you this look. In his eyes, you could see every fathom of his heartbreak. In a way, it told you everything you needed to know about your dad.

So you leaned into his side, and he held you close while the icy winds whipped at both of you.

Snow crunched beneath someone’s feet, and you turned to see a man walking down the row of headstones. He looked kind of familiar…

He had a thick beard and wore a baseball cap, but he took it off once he got close enough to pay his respects—first to Mom…then to Aunt Karen.

“Jack,” he greeted with a nod of respect.

You looked up at your dad, and the free emotions he’d been wearing clammed up behind a more familiar stern expression.

“Bobby,” he said, nodding back. Realization finally dawned on you. Oh, Uncle Bobby?

You hadn’t seen your uncle since you were…ten? Probably since Aunt Karen’s funeral.

“I’m real sorry about Christine,” Uncle Bobby said. He sounded a bit gruff, but his eyes were kind when they met yours sympathetically. “About your mom.”

Another tear fell down your cheek, but you nodded and wiped it away, sniffling.

“Thank you,” your dad said eventually. There was a brief, but awkward pause. Then Bobby nodded to himself and walked away, setting that faded blue baseball cap back on his head. You watched him go curiously.

“You remember your uncle,” Dad said. He didn’t seem happy about it.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why didn’t he stay?”

He was family, after all.

Dad shook his head. There was a wry downturn to his lips. “He’s got a junk heap to look after.”

You frowned in confusion. But he didn’t explain what he meant. He just steered you back toward the car to go home.

Just as you both crossed under the iron arch to leave the cemetery, Dad reached into his pocket and gave you something. Your mom’s wedding ring.

“You can wear it if you want,” he said. “Or just keep it safe. Either way, just remember…she’s still with you. And I’m always gonna watch over you.”

The thought made you feel the slightest bit better, and also worse. Still, you took the ring and held it between your fingers. It was simple sterling silver, but beautiful all the same.

You got into his pick-up truck and he started the drive home. Just as you turned the corner, you hit a red light. You stared out the window as snow started a light fall, flurrying down to the damp pavement. Soon the ground would be icy and wet, and that reminded you of grocery trucks. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you were sick of it. Sick of crying.

It actually annoyed you…or…did it?

A feeling fluttered in your chest. It felt like anxiety and irritation all wrapped up into one. And another feeling, this time attached to a thought. It felt hot in your throat, and a lot like—

It’s not fair!

The thought startled you. Because somehow (and you didn’t know why), it didn’t feel like you were the one that thought it.   

Finally, the street light turned green. It flashed in the corner of your eyes, and then you noticed a sleek, black car coming in the opposite direction. You watched it pass by for a moment, until your dad distracted you with a question.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. You blinked, trying to register what he said while you shook off the weird things you were feeling. Once your brain caught up to your mouth, you were finally able to answer.

“Not really.”

“Come on. I’ll get us a burger.”

You shrugged, but for once you really weren’t hungry.

“Dad, come on,” Dean said in frustration. On one hand, he didn’t want to argue with his dad.

On the other hand, this really wasn’t fair!

He was seventeen already. He’d gone on a handful of hunts with John before, so why not this one?

“Too dangerous,” John said. He looked over at Dean from the Impala’s driver’s seat. His tone boded no further argument. “Djinn are tricky. Even seasoned hunters have trouble with ‘em.”

Dean frowned. “I’m ready, Dad.”

“Do we have to go to Bobby’s house?” Sam piped up from the back seat. At thirteen, he was getting more and more lippy.

“Cheaper than a motel.” John smiled, then glanced at his younger son through the rear-view mirror. “Besides, why not Bobby’s?”

Sam sighed. “His heater doesn’t always work.”  

“Well, I’ll help him take a look before I go,” John replied. Dean stared at the side of his dad’s face for a while, but he knew a lost argument when he saw one.

…Still, he couldn’t help but try.

“Dad,” Dean pressed.

John’s gaze stayed on the road. “Not this time, son. You and Sam’ll be okay at Bobby’s.”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yeah, bored at Bobby’s. But he knew it was better than being left at a crusty motel room. He was annoyed, but he could deal with it.

Until something else began to creep up in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt since…since his mom died.

It was this ball of lead in his chest, weighing him down and constricting his throat. It felt a lot like…like fear, and sadness. And finally confusion. He was confused?

Maybe.

Sad? Afraid? Not really, no. At least, he didn’t think so. He hadn’t thought about his mom like that in a while…

So what the hell?

Those sensations only lasted for a moment—the time it took them to finally cross the street at the red light and pass a pick-up truck going the opposite way.

But that moment seemed to drag on for minutes. Now he really was confused.

He sat still, hesitating, until the feeling eventually passed.

“Hey, Dean, where’s the Batman comic?” Sam leaned up by his ear to ask.

Dean almost flinched. He played it off though, and turned to look back at his brother.

“It’s in my bag, but wait ‘til we get to Bobby’s.”

“Why? That’s like, a whole ten minutes away,” Sam pointed out.

“Because my bag’s under a ton of stuff back there. Just leave it for a few minutes,” Dean said. He sensed that Sam was about to get all bitchy and not let it go, but then John cut in.

“He’s right, Sam. Just cool it until we get there.”

Sam frowned, slumping into his seat with an annoyed huff. Wanting to tease him out of his kid funk, Dean smirked, reached back and playfully tapped his knee. “Yeah, cool it.”

Sam slapped his hand away. “Stop.”

“Make me, dork.” Accompanied by another teasing flick to his ear. Sam hit him back, and it would’ve devolved into an immature, but not uncommon free-for-all, if not for John’s heavy sigh and a sharp warning.

“Boys, enough!”

Then the car was silent. Sam huffed again and settled back into his seat. Dean tapered down his smile and sat back in his too. He looked out the window and saw the snow beginning to fall. Without meaning to, his mind drifted back to that weird feeling in his chest.

He rubbed his chest absently. But soon enough, he forgot about it. Just like you did.

Neither of you realized exactly what happened that day.

It was the first tug of a lifelong bond, seared into your souls.

AN: Okay, this is my first soulmate AU! Maybe the end was a little melodramatic there lol.

Let me know in the comments what you think! Then keep reading. ;)

Here it is: Part 2.

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[lady-evelin]

Someone left me this lovely prompt where Anakin is an alien and becomes obsessed with Obi-Wan, who is a scientist and is the only one who treats him well, and I based it on the movie Life (2017) and the video game; There's something in the ice. I hope to have it complete by next week. ✨

Thanks to my friend @full-galaxy for helping me with the cover 😘

Obi-Wan hated his job.

Don't get it wrong, when he decided to study to become a scientist, he dreamed of traveling to different places, researching their culture, plants, and animals, and maybe studying some rare disease and its possible cure.

He never expected that at 33 years old he would be in a bunker in the cold in the middle of the arctic, where he had already been researching snow and more snow for 2 months.

At first, he accepted this proposal from his colleagues since his boss wanted to thaw viruses or microorganisms from many years ago that rumors on the internet said had been buried in the Arctic and that no one had been able to discover them.

Obi-Wan joined the investigation, wanted to get out of his comfort zone, and thought that being in a place outside of the pollution of the crowded city would help him a lot to relax. In addition to the various studies he would do, they were going to keep him busy and maybe teach him something new.

But it was not like that; from the day they arrived until this moment, they have not found anything.

Their very wealthy boss, Palpatine, forbade them to leave until they found something that would make them rich and famous. In addition to the fact that the contract they signed warned them that if any of them left before the completion of the investigation, they would be fired and sanctioned with a large sum of money that no one in that place owned.

Obi-Wan decided to reread a book before going to sleep; maybe tomorrow they would be lucky and they could find something relevant to their research and no more snow.

When he was about to fall asleep, the omega felt a slight tremor throughout his room, opened his eyes in confusion, and looked everywhere. Everything was still in order; maybe it was his imagination and he dreamed it?

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

Obi-Wan doesn't know when he fell asleep but was woken up by Satine's voice; she sounded very excited.

"Obi-Wan! Wake up! You won't believe what happened last night!"

The omega got up alarmed seeing his friend, put his hands to his eyes, and tried to remove all traces of sleep he still had.

"Satine, it's still too early."

"Obi-Wan, a meteorite crashed last night near here, and we found life in it."

"What?"

"Yes, yes, it was very small, but there is life in it. At this moment, they are transferring it to this place to investigate it further."

Obi-Wan couldn't believe it; he even thought he was still asleep and dreaming. This was a godsend. They would finally leave this place!

The omega took one last look at his friend; Satine was not someone who joked or would lie about that kind of thing. Obi-Wan met the Beta on this trip; they both shared things in common, and it was easy to have a conversation with Satine without feeling judged.

Both were assigned to the furthest wing of the bunker; they slept in separate rooms, so Obi-Wan thought it would be a problem to befriend Satine since, from the first moment they introduced them, the Beta was serious and rigid.

But as the days went by, the two began to talk more and share more time together in the laboratory or in other places in the bunker. Their friendship began to blossom until they told each other everything that was going on in their heads and went everywhere together.

With Satine's help, Obi-Wan changed into more presentable clothes, brushing his face and teeth, and had something to eat when the main door of the bunker opened. Several researchers took the new organism to the laboratory, where they all gathered to receive instructions.

As if it were a relic, a piece of completely red stone was placed behind a glass room. That room was highly reinforced to study the organisms or plants in different ecosystems and prevent any microorganisms from coming out, harming everyone's health, or being damaged by the climatic conditions of the laboratory.

Some organisms need highly hot or cold climates to survive or develop. That room could recreate those climates.

No one was authorized to open that part of the laboratory except Palpatine; this was to avoid damaging what they were studying.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

The following days, the entire bunker investigated the new acquisition. The organism found never ceased to amaze them, growing and growing in size.

On the first day, it was almost imperceptible to the human eye, but on day 10, it was the size of a thumb and was slimy, like a slug. It could also float in the air and was very elusive.

The organism moved around the glass room as if it were playing; it reminded Obi-Wan of a little boy; all that was missing was to hear his laughter.

The researchers took turns studying it; they didn't want to miss any details of the research and progress. Obi-Wan only chose to see the development of the organism; he knew that the other scientists subjected this being to very rigorous tests. The omega never liked that part of his job; he never liked to hurt another living being. No matter if he would be fired for not following orders, his conscience prevented him from doing so.

The omega sometimes told the alien about his day; that's how he named him Obi-Wan. He mentioned the type of tea he liked to drink and his favorite books. The organism, whenever it heard Obi-Wan's voice, stood still, listening to everything the omega told it. This excited Obi-Wan, since apart from Satine, he had no one else to talk about his private life. Due to the monotony of the days, he could not talk to anyone about new things because everything had already been told and everyone was following the same routine.

But the alien always came up to listen and never left Obi-Wan's side.

Obi-Wan also noticed that the organism showed a certain attachment to him, always following Obi-Wan in that glass room when the omega arrived at the laboratory, expectant of his every move.

At first, Obi-Wan thought it was because he was the only omega in the facility and the organism was attracted to his biology. This made him think that when he watched the other scientists interact with the alien, who was indifferent to them, the organism hardly paid attention to them and much less listened to them. 

The weeks went by and the alien increased in size considerably; now it was the size of a 9-year-old human child, which was very terrifying to see that gray matter moving through the resigned area or floating in the air.

But everything changed when, one day, everyone in the lab screamed—some surprised and others scared. The organism was now in the form of a 9-year-old human child.

He had deep blue eyes with blonde hair.

After a meeting with Palpatine about the progress, they decided to go ahead and try to get as much information as possible from the alien about his planet and if his inhabitants were dangerous. In addition to the medical advances that would be useful for humanity.

The surprises still followed when the boy spoke his language as if nothing had happened, calling himself; Anakin.

[sakumz]

____________________________________________

a/n : been obsessed with toshiki masuda lately not lately AGAIN. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH OMF HJSHDHAJSJ anyways happy valentines

[ s. rei x gn reader ]

____________________________________________

rei sakuma... a plague living in your mind. how can you avoid that outstanding creature when he's everywhere or at least that was what you can spot the last few days.

you were running some grocery errands late last night. who did you bump into? rei sakuma. he, too, was doing some late night shopping. he said its better for him to do it at night as he's more active, therefore strong enough to carry his grocery and offer that he could carry yours as well. you scoff and rejected the offer and bid farewell, leaving the vampire alone.

you were having lunch with kaoru the other day. did rei pop out again? yes, he did. he joked about how kaoru was "cheating on him" and how kaoru was "stolen" by you! kaoru could only laugh bitterly at his friend and apologise to you for your sudden change of mood. you were glaring, clearly pissed off at the ruby eyed man. you just wanted to share some company with the blonde, seeing as he was alone in the cafeteria. he seemed to enjoy your company, striking a conversation with you until rei came. you excused yourself shortly after rei sat and starting yapping your ear off about stealing kaoru.

this was the last straw! you bumped into rei along the corridors. falling from the impact as he offers a hand.

" no stop, " you push his hand away.

" what? " he questions.

" why are you following me around, stalker? " you brush yourself up as he stares bewildered.

" oh, " he softly chuckles.

" coincidence? " you pout at his words. you can't believe him. he smiles at your reaction.

as you stand up, ready to walk away. you see rei at the corner of your eye, walk behind you. what's with him? you turn around ready to question and give him a piece of your mind when you're stopped by another man.

" hey, l/n. did you see kuma-kun? " izumi says. you can't help but laugh a little as you point behind you.

kuma-kun, sakuma was behind you after all. izumi shoots you an annoyed glare.

" not that sakuma, " he sighs as he rubs his forehead.

" yeah I'm aware, I didn't see him though. " izumi sighs once more before bidding you and rei farewell to continue his search for his fellow member.

" well? you can't be following me everywhere now, can you? " rei's silence was definitely deafening.

" happy valentines? " he walk past you as fast as the words were spilled.

you continued on with your day. everything felt oddly normal. it's the day of love, you received and handed chocolates. you had prepared chocolate for rei too. it was odd if you gave chocolate to everyone from undead and his brother than him. you couldn't give him, his earlier since your bag wasn't with you. you contemplated between finding him or going home. you could give him tomorrow. its already 6 pm, would he still be here?

you decide to walk around the garden, for once you hope he'd be here. he was indeed there with kaoru no less.

" oh... hey y/n! " kaoru greets first, hoping you'll save him from the grip rei has on his arm.

" hey... " you greet back.

" it's late, are you going home soon? " rei starts.

" kinda, I still have one last thing to do. " you mumbled as rei gave you a soft smile, letting kaoru go.

" I'll walk you home then, meet me at the gates. " rei instructed and you obeyed. it was suffocating to be there, you felt.

walking home with rei was a special occurrence. he wasn't as chatty as you expected, he listens and prompts the conversation. arriving at your doorstep, you're quick to stop him from turning on his heels.

" here. " you hand him the chocolate as he blushes a bit at the action.

" thank you, " he says.

" happy valentines. " you reply.

he takes a step forward and gives you kiss on the cheek. " be honest, you like me too? " he laughs.

" I do, but you're annoying! " you playfully scolded as he laughs once more.

[radiant-reid]

Christmas (Baby, please come home)

a/n: i did say i still have Christmas fics to write, so judge me if you want

Summary: Spencer's gone for Christmas, and you and the twins wish he wasn't.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (minor angst, major fluff)

Word Count: 3.2k

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Christmas Eve was a hot chocolate night. That was the tradition every year. Hot chocolate out of the house, a walk back home, bedtime, then Christmas morning.

This year, there's an extra step that they all wish wasn't there: Facetiming Spencer. And that's not a guarantee. It's scheduled, but there's no assurance about how long he can be on the phone.

It kills all of them, and the sacrifice sucks, but there aren't a lot of choices when the State Department calls. The deeply buried positive is that there's a year limit on how long he will be away, and only four months in, it seems impossible to do that two more times.

"Momma, look at the snow." Theo cheers, holding one hand up in the air while his other's wrapped around his hot chocolate.

The three of you are walking through the city on your way home, looking at all the fancy lights strung up around people's houses. It's gorgeous, but it can't be perfect without Spencer.

You nestle his hair. "Sorry, baby, it's a snow machine." You nod to the machine spurting out look-alike snow. "We're not going to get snow this year."

"Or daddy," Evie adds, pouting.

You wrap your arms around them, pulling their little bodies in for side hugs. "He'll be back soon." You promise, desperately hoping they believe it.

"Do you think he'll bring us a present?" Theo asks, grinning up at you.

Spencer will. If not for his guilt, then because he likes to spoil them. "Yup, what do you want?"

"Maybe..." He pauses to think about it. "Peanut butter."

"Peanut butter?" You repeat with a giggle, Evie joining in. "You'll have to ask him about that."

"I want food from wherever he is." She decides.

You frown at your picky eater who really doesn't like trying new foods and will order chicken nuggets from any menu anywhere. It's been a struggle to get her to try more than three of Rossi's pasta dishes. "I'm not sure you'd like it, E." You tell her. "And I'm not sure daddy's allowed to bring food back. We're going to have ham and turkey tomorrow, though."

It's going to be a lot of food, accompanied by stuffing, roasted potato and sweet potato, vegetables- that you'll have to bribe them to eat- and cranberry sauce. And that's not including dessert. There's brunch and dinner at Rossi's on boxing day as well, and he's never been on everyone bringing a plate.

"Remember when daddy set the oven mitt on fire last year?" Theo recalls, bursting into giggles with his sister. It was hilarious, Spencer's high pitch squeals as he threw the mitt in the sink and set off the smoke alarm.

"Remember that next time he asks who's the better cook." You remind them, anticipating Spencer would ask after Christmas to tease her.

Evie turns to look at you. "What's daddy going to have for Christmas dinner?"

You don't have an answer, but she's mostly asking for reassurance that he's okay. "Something really yum." You assure her. "You can ask when we call him."

That answer satisfies her enough for no more questions and saves you from having to explain anything more on his behalf. You can't resist taking a few photos of them on the way home, standing in the streets surrounded by Christmas lights, looking adorable in their coats.

"Okay, go put your pajamas on then we can call." You instruct them once you're back at home, taking their coats to hang up.

They scramble to get ready, excited to talk to Spencer. Everything about being home makes you miss him, like the display of framed pictures in the hallway, his shoes in the doorway, and his coat in the closet.

You clean up the living room a little, putting away all the toys that accumulate over the day. It's what you do when Spencer's working with the BAU since he's clumsy and likely to trip over blocks in the middle of the night.

The Christmas tree in the living room has lots of gifts under it, and their little Theodore and Evelyn stockings hang under the mantel, waiting for presents.

Then you make your way upstairs to their bedrooms just before 9:30, where they're waiting on Theo's bed. You sit next to them, holding out the phone so they'll be able to see him before you call him.

Cell reception in the desert, you anticipated and have discovered, is terrible, but for once, Spencer's face is clear on the screen. His background is blurred, as usual, safety concerns would mean you can't see what's behind him, but the timezone difference means it's dark.

"Hey, there are my favorite people in the world." He says, waving. His voice sounds different on the phone. You can't feel it either, like you're laying on his chest, and you miss that like you miss the rest of him.

"Daddy!" They cheer, pleased to see him.

"How are my sweet babies?" He asks with a wide smile.

They mirror it, and you don't think you'll ever get over the similarities between them. "Good," Theo answers.

"We had hot chocolate," Evie reports.

"With lots of marshmallows?" He checks. "And sprinkles."

Another similarity: sweet tooths. "And whipped cream," Evie tells him. "Did you have hot chocolate?"

"Not yet." He says.

"Can we have some when you're home?" Theo asks, looking between you and his dad.

You and Spencer nod in unison, and you avoid mentioning it could be 90 degrees and summer by the time he comes back. "Of course, bud." He answers. "All the hot chocolate you can drink."

He grins, pumping his fist in the air. "Yes!" He cheers. "I could drink a gallon."

"That might not be the best idea." You remind him, although the smile on his face is worth him thinking he can drink a sick-inducing amount of hot chocolate.

"Especially because we'll have marshmallows," Spencer adds. "We can have another Christmas dinner then, too."

"But mommy has to cook," Evie says.

Spencer chuckles, looking at you and shaking his head. "You wouldn't be poisoning young minds while I'm away, would you, Mrs. Reid?"

You shake your head. "Wouldn't dream of it, Doctor."

They talk for a little while longer before the twins can barely keep their eyes open, beyond tired from the late hour, their excitement reduced enough for them to be able to sleep.

As the new routine goes, Spencer wishes them goodnight while you tuck them in, giving them two kisses each, one from each of you. Then it's your turn to talk to him, and you're grateful you drank more coffee than you probably should have.

You sit on the couch instead of upstairs in bed since there's still some stocking stuffing to do. "What's the time where you are?" You ask.

You don't know exactly where he is or what he's doing it. It's the way you both prefer it because he's not in the middle of the desert half a world away to monitor the ecosystem.

"10pm in DC, so 5 am." He says.

You know he can't be getting a lot of sleep over there, and as much as you want to talk to him, you want him to rest when he has the rare opportunity. Getting up early does not help that.

"Don't worry, it's fine." He assures you, seeing your face change. "I can function on a few hours of sleep."

"How are you?" You ask. "Tell me about normal stuff, like the weather."

He laughs his adorable laugh. "Better than it was when I came." He tells you. "And it never rains. It's just hot and dry or less hot and dry."

"Thought you'd be used to that, desert boy." You tease his aversion to the warm weather.

"This might be a surprise, but I spend most of my summers inside where the aircon is." He corrects you.

"Here I was thinking you were outside playing basketball." You joke back. You can hear his laugh and see his smile, and things feel okay, but it'll end too soon like it always does. "I miss you." You tell him, and you feel bad about it.

At least you have two kids with you that are constant reminders of him. He's all alone, somewhere you don't even know, and he gets to talk to his family only a few times a week.

"I miss you, too, sweetheart." He says. "Can you switch this to a voice call?"

You pout, waving goodbye to him, but agree, placing the phone on your ear. "Now I don't get to see you." You complain about another situation that's worse for him.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes before adding an afterthought question. "Oh, did you get the package at the door?"

"No." You answer. "I would have seen it when we came in."

"I told them to drop it at the backdoor." He tells you. "Safety precautions and all that."

You get up off the couch, walking towards the location of your mystery package. "Please tell me you didn't add to the crazy Christmas delivery overload by buying me more gifts."

"Sort of." He says. "It's for all of you, though."

That gets the gears in your head turning about what it could be. "I hope it's a trampoline. They'd love it, but then you'd get on, and hurt your knee again."

"I got shot in the knee." He corrects you. "I could backflip."

You scoff, laughing. "That I would love to see. Or go-carts." You guess again, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder while you unlock the door and turn the door hand. "Oh, maybe tickets to an all-inclusive resort in the Bahamas."

What you're greeted with isn't plane tickets: it's the best gift you could imagine. "We can go to the Bahamas if you want." He says, out loud and through the phone.

Your first reaction is to drop your phone on the ground, not caring whether it shatters, and jump into your husband's arms which you haven't felt around you in a very hard, long one hundred and thirty-nine days.

Spencer still smells the same. His perfect cologne makes your house feel completely like home once again. Applying it to his pillow and hoodies for you to wear has not been enough.

He feels slightly more muscular than he used to in his arms and shoulders, and it's a welcomed change. He holds you there, tighter than he ever has before for so long that you stop counting. It satisfies what you've been craving.

He pulls his head back from your shoulder so he can kiss you while he hugs you. "I've missed you so much." You confess.

"We can say that in the past tense now." He says, kissing you once again. "We should go inside. You've got to be freezing."

You didn't realize until then that you went outside in jeans and a shirt, but you can't be cold when he's so warm. Spencer only keeps one arm around your shoulder when you step inside, carrying his bag in the other.

"I've missed this house." He says. "Everything about it."

"The unvacuumed floor?" You joke. "Or the toothpaste the twins spit on the mirror?"

"It's you and them and everything else in between." He assures you, putting his bag by the laundry as you move to the living room. "And I'm in time to be Santa." He cheers excitedly, noticing the stockings.

You nod, pulling him to the entryway. "They're in here." You say as you open the closet and take a trash bag full of gifts from the top shelf while Spencer takes off his shoes.

"Wow." He says when you hand him the heavy sack.

"I know." You nod. "I went a little crazy, but you weren't going to be here and I didn't even buy everything you suggested so..." When you turn back to look at him after closing the closet, he's just staring at you. "What?"

"I love you." He says like it's the most important thing ever.

You beam, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him again. "I love you."

"Let's stop being sappy in the hallway, we've got Christmases to make." He declares with a smirk.

"You're going to be making everyone's Christmas just by being here, Spence." You assure him, walking back into the lounge. "Oh, and the team! They'll be so excited to see you."

Spencer puts the bag down on the couch, pulling out gifts to put in the right stocking. It's always like no time has passed when he comes home, no awkward moments or getting back into routine.

"Are you hungry?" You question. "Thirsty? Are you too tired to be doing this?"

He shakes his head, smiling at you. "I'm good, sweetheart. I told you I can function on a few hours of sleep." He assures you. "Honestly, I've never been better."

"How'd you get back so early?" You wonder, sitting on the couch to watch him.

"I just heard I was leaving, so I got on the plane." He explains. "Oddly, they're not the most forthcoming government department."

You chuckle before answering the hard question. "Do you have to go back?"

And you get the answer you were hoping for as he shakes his head before adding more good news. "I don't have to go back to the BAU for a few months either."

That's more than enough of a Christmas gift for you. "They're going to be so happy when they wake up and you're here," You tell him.

"I'm so happy to be here." He says, finishing putting the last gift in Theo's stocking. "In time for Christmas, too."

"We're so lucky." You repeat, holding out your hands.

Spencer grabs your hands and pulls you up, wrapping his arms around your waist and spinning in circles in the living room. "Bed?" He offers.

"Please." You beg. "I have been sleeping in the middle of the bed, though, so I might kick you."

Spencer laughs as he follows you upstairs, holding your hand. "Well, I'm looking forward to sleeping on a mattress without lumps in it."

Once you reach the top of the stairs, Spencer wraps his arm around your shoulder, and it's like you're taken right back to when you first started living together, and you wouldn't let go of each other for hours after he got home from a case.

"I have to kiss them goodnight." Spencer stills when you pass Theo's room.

You go back to holding his hand as he pushes the door open slowly to avoid waking him. He's tightly tucked up in bed still, sleeping peacefully, and Spencer brushes some curls off his forehead before kissing him softly.

"I love you, little man." He says before you tiptoe out, careful of the creaks in the floorboards. "Did he get bigger?" He asks once you're safe in the hallway.

"They both did. I think at least an inch." You report.

You go to Evie's room next, repeating the same routine of Spencer admiring her before kissing her forehead and sneaking out of the room again.

"I never want to lose that much time with them again." He confesses as you walk towards your bedroom.

You know it must have killed him to be away for so long, but he's here now and that's really what matters. "But you're our hero." You remind him.

He smiles at that. "How many of the clothes I left here have been worn?" He asks, suspiciously looking around the closet you ended up in to get pajamas.

"Oh, all your hoodies and t-shirts." You assure him. "The good news is that they all smell like me now."

He nods in agreement. "That is good news." He grabs a hoodie and some pajama bottoms, but before he changes, he notices you just watching him. "Did you... want a show?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I think we might need to save that for tomorrow night. What I'm doing is admiring you and making sure you're not injured."

"Promise." He says, and maybe you're misleading him by making it sound like it's a 50/50 split because there's a lot more admiring going on than checking injuries. "Satisfied?" He asks, smirking at your wandering eyes.

"So satisfied." You assure him, blushing a little. "Thanks for that."

"You're very welcome." He says. "Wanna go to bed now?"

"Yes." You agree, both of you finishing your bedtime routines before getting under the covers.

Spencer pulls you close immediately, cuddling you into his side. "Merry Christmas." He whispers, kissing you softly.

"Merry Christmas." You reply, wiggling even closer to him. It doesn't take you too long to fall asleep with the warm feeling that your family is all under one roof finally.

And it's not a dream.

In the morning he's there, kissing your forehead as he gets out of bed. You turn to look at the clock. "Spence, it's 6:30."

"Lucky it's not earlier." He jokes. "My internal close is messed up." "You better be getting me coffee." You tell him, holding out your finger as you rest your face against the pillow in an attempt to get another few seconds of sleep.

He brushes the hair off your shoulder, exposing it so he can kiss your skin. "Promise." He says.

You don't fall back asleep. You just grin at the ceiling until Spencer comes back in a few minutes later with coffee. You moan at the taste since he always makes it better than you do. "This is so good."

He gets back under the covers next to you and sips his own mug. "I've had nothing but instant coffee, not even drip coffee."

"So how long do you think we have until two little people bust open the door?" You wonder.

"Two minutes." He estimates, and you raise your eyebrows, knowing the one way he could know that. "Okay, fine. I did go into their rooms to shake them." He confesses.

You laugh, shaking your head. It's an old trick of his to get them up. "You're terrible."

"I want to see my little babies." He sulks, pouting playfully. "Plus, they've had nearly nine hours of sleep."

The pitter-patter of tiny feet starts in the hallway when Spencer suggested it would, and you both put your coffees down in anticipation.

"Mommy, it's Christmas," Theo reports, tapping on your door.

"Come in." You instruct. "I've got an amazing surprise."

Spencer scoffs next to you. "Only amazing?"

There's no chance for you to provide another adjective before 2 five-year-olds race in, jumping onto the bed without looking at who's next to you. The realization sets in on their faces after a millisecond, and their eyes grow wide before the high-pitch squeals start as they launch at him.

He grabs both of them, one in each arm as he holds them tight to his chest. "Hi, sweet angels." He says, kissing their foreheads.

"I missed you." They both tell him.

"I missed you both more." He assures them.

Evie pulls back to eye him suspiciously. "How did you get here?" She asks.

Spencer smoothes a hand through her hair. "On a plane." He tells her. "I couldn't miss Christmas."

"Now this is the best Christmas ever," Theo says, assuming up how you're all feeling.

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[mncxbe]

hi! by any chance, are you taking requests rn? just read your office sex piece and i love it so much that i want to request something similar but with mori. and then the s/o is extra daring (almost audacious lol) and more mischievous.

Yes, my requests are always open although it may usually take more time to respond to some. I didn't go for an s/o this time but I hope you still enjoy it♡ It has the spice

°☆○

𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙡☆

𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

I suppose I'll indulge you. After all, you did such a great job.

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut\\

The Port Mafia didn't usually work with individual assassins, but this situation was different. A highly influential official was sticking his nose in the organization's business and he had to be dealt with. Of course, Mori could use one of his own assassins, but he would risk creating a connection which could be traced back to him. So he decided to commission you for the job. 

One morning as you were leaving the house you noticed an envelope in front of your door. You picked it up and gently opened it, procuring the note inside it. 

It was handwritten in cursive and contained general information about the job. Your eyes scanned the paper, lingering on the last words:

    "Payment will be made after the job is done

at *inserts address*"

A smile rose to your lips as you considered the proposal. Killing a political figure will be quite a challenge, but it will be fun. You quickly contacted your informant and asked for further information about the official. You spent the evening reading articles about him. 

'Younger wife, two kids... will be attending the annual gala at Tokyo Imperial Hotel tomorrow night. Easy game' you thought with a smirk

The following day around midnight you parked your car in front of the black building. Following the instructions on the note, you went up to the 19th floor where two armed guards waited for you. They checked for weapons then motioned you towards the black door at the end of the hallway. As you entered the room, the two doors closing behind you with a thud, you heard the voice of a man. He was seated at a mahogany desk in the middle of the room. 

"Ah, miss Y/N. I've been waiting for you. I assume the job is completed."

You nodded, procuring your phone from your purse and opening the first news channel. 

"Tokyo official found dead earlier this evening in front of the Tokyo Imperial Hotel. The police ruled it as a suicide, the man having jumped from the window of his room" you read out loud.

The man chuckled lowly and intertwined his fingers in front of him.

"That's just marvelous, dear." he said, extending a gloved hand for you to shake "Mori Ōgai. Nice to finally meet you, miss Y/N"

You shook his hand, your eyes taking in his features. 

"So, miss. I believe it's time we discuss payment." He reached for one of the drawers of his desk and took out a cheque and a pen. "How much do I owe you?"

You chuckled, resting a hand over the piece of paper. From that angle, your cleavage was on full display for him.

"Didn't you say that you don't want any connections between you and the murder? Money can be traced. What if the police decides to investigate further?"

The man noticed the look of mischief in your eyes, a sinister smile rising to his lips.

"And what do you propose we do about that?" 

You leaned forward, your face awfully close to his. 

"There are other ways we can settle this"

One of Mori's hands went to your face. His fingers traced the shape of your cheek, tucking a strand of hair being your ear before moving to the back of your head.

"There surely are. Got any ideas?" 

He suddenly tugged at your hair, making you yelp.

"And talk fast. I don't have all night" mocked the man

"Well that's too bad, isn't it?" you replied in a honeyed voice. 

His piercing gaze followed the line of your neck down to your breasts. 

"I suppose I'll indulge you. After all, you did such a great job."

He pulled you forward, pressing your lips against his. The kiss was eager and deep, the taste of his tongue making your head spin. 

When he eventually let go of your hair and broke the kiss, he leaned back in his seat, tilting his head. 

"What? You gonna make me work for it?" you questioned with a playful rise of your eyebrow.

"Fair enough" he replied

With a swift move he got up from his seat and walked over to you. His hands went to your waist, picking you up with ease and placing you on his desk. 

"Since you're such a big girl, tell me what you want me to do to you"

The knot in your belly tightened at the sound of his words. You licked your lips, slowly opening your legs. 

"How about you use that tongue of yours for something else?" 

He knelt, not breaking eye contact with you. 

"As you wish, doll" Mori's lips left kisses along your thighs, biting from place to place and sucking on your skin. As he moved from one thigh to another, his nose would occasionally brush your clothed core, earning a whine from you.

"What, pretty? Don't like being teased?" 

"Not at all" you replied sharply.

The man reached for the band of your underwear, sliding them off and discarding them next to him.

Mori's warm tongue slid along your wet core, licking your juices. He removed one of his gloves, his slender fingers tracing your folds.

"So wet for me already..." he uttered before gripping your hips and yanking you closer to him. He moved to your clit, tongue flicking at a merciless pace, a finger sliding inside you. Moans and whines left your lips as your head fell back.

"J-just like that so good" 

He wasn't making you see stars but entire constellations, working you so well. Your body shook with each precise thrust of his finger, the knot in your belly tightening.

His tongue suddenly stopped and he got to his feet. 

"Did I tell you to stop?" you spoke, grabbing his tie. "You were doing so well"

"I could tell, dear" he teased, scooping you up and walking away from his desk. "But why should you be the only one enjoying yourself?"

Mori placed you down in front of the large window, your heels clacking on the floor as you landed. He pushed you against the cold glass, the sudden change of temperature sending a shiver down your spine, and pushed your legs apart.

His gloved hand moved your dress, exposing your ass.

You could hear the sound of his fly going down, your hips slightly wiggling in expectancy. 

"So eager, doll" he teased as his tip rubbed your entrance. "Just tell me when" he whispered in your ear.

"Please, Mori. I want y- ah" You jolted as he went inside. Your legs wobbled as he thrust his hips. 

You knew how pathetic you looked, pressed against his window, taking everything he gave you. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, clouding your vision. Mori's free hand snaked to your neck, seizing your chin.

"Look at the city, dear. You know it's mine, right?" 

You nodded slightly as Mori looked at your reflection in the glass, chuckling. 

"If only you could see your expression right now. So pretty just for me"

He turned your head over your shoulder, capturing your lips with his. His sudden, hungry kiss made something in you snap. His member was hitting the right spot, pushing you through your orgasm. 

He groaned as he felt your walls tighten around him, picking up the pace.

The sound of his hips slapping against yours echoed through the room.

Soon, Mori's thrusts became sloppy, his legs slight shaking as he spilled his cum on your lower back.

He huffed loudly, wiping his seed off of you with his hand. 

"Well, this was certainly refreshing" he said in a ragged voice.

You arranged your dress, finally turning to face him. His eyes were glazed with desire and his hair stuck to his forehead from place to place. 

"Are you satisfied, miss?" 

"Sure, but I wouldn't mind going for another round"

Mori closed the distance between you, cupping your cheek with his clean hand.

"Then come work for me. You can have me whenever you desire. And you'd be a valuable asset to my organization"

"A tempting offer, but I prefer to freelance"

He clicked his tongue in disapproval, slowly pulling away from you.

"Too bad. I would've loved to work with you'

Before leaving, you pressed a kiss to his temple. "If you ever need my services, don't hesitate to contact me" you said with a wink, earning a half smile from the man

"Goodbye, miss" 

The black doors closed behind you as you walked down the dark corridor. 

Little did you know that Mori was watching you from the window. He took in the shape of your body as you walked to your car, unlocking the doors and getting inside. He rested his forehead against the cold window, following the vehicle drive off until your taillights were engulfed by the dark.

[izloveshorses]

No More Pretend

(7k, canon compliant, missing scene)

(read on ao3)

“I just don’t understand why we can’t pretend we’re brother and sister, and you’re our father.”

Vlad rolled his eyes. “You two look nothing alike, my boy, no one would believe it. And two strange men traveling with an unmarried woman would only raise suspicion. Now, here you go, darling.” 

Without much ceremony Anya found herself letting Vlad slip a band around her ring finger on her left hand. At least Dmitry had the decency to look just as uncomfortable by the idea as she felt. 

“Unless you want to spend another night in this rain,” Vlad continued, “this might be the only way we can afford a place to sleep.” 

As grim as a man at a funeral, Dmitry swallowed and offered his arm to her. He had once said only suckers paid full price for anything, but maybe now he was regretting being so bold.

Sure, they still had enough money leftover from Anya’s diamond. Tomorrow they would find a train to Berlin. But here, in this little tourist village in Poland, they needed to conserve whatever pennies they had or else they’d be scraping the bottom of the barrel once they reached Paris. That was how Vlad explained the budget, anyway. It made sense. 

But that did not change the fact that Anya hated this plan. 

“What’s our story?” Dmitry asked. They followed Vlad up the road. 

“You’re newlyweds, small dowry. And I’m Anya’s loveable uncle. We come from a factory family, humble city folk, that sort. Oh, and we’re from Lithuania, not Russia. Better not give them any reason to suspect we bring a trail of Bolsheviks behind us.”

At the door to the inn, Vlad gave them one last look over and sighed. Like he was already resigned to this plan falling apart. “Let me do the talking. You just stand there and… be pleasant. Please. I deserve a good bed.” 

They all did. It was the middle of the night, it had been pouring rain since they woke in the woods at dawn, and they hadn’t slept in a real bed since they left Russia. Anya was beyond exhausted. And all three of them looked it. Since they’d spent days without a moment’s break from each other, their nerves were brittle and prickly from the stress. 

Anya glanced up at Dmitry just once. His expression didn’t give much away, but his cheeks were pink, and his eyes were deliberately fixed on his shoes. She didn’t blame him. Everything that happened between them so far since they’d met had been… intense. Intense fear, intense anger, intense joy. Like jumping off of a moving train, for example. Or dancing like they were a young couple at a ball. There was never a time where they were just. Calm. Indifferent. It was exhausting. 

She supposed that wasn’t how either of them operated, anyway. 

As they entered the lobby of the inn, a doorbell chimed overhead, and Dmitry walked with stiff knees next to her. Anya felt like a million eyes were on her. Like the word ‘imposter’ was printed in big red letters on her forehead. 

They weren’t convincing. Like, at all. Even though they were just standing there silently as instructed while Vlad did all the talking no one bought it. The clerk kept narrowing his eyes at them over his spectacles, and the woman next to him didn’t even glance up from her book. Anya didn’t blame either of them. Dmitry clearly didn’t know how to be a gentleman, and Anya didn’t know how to be a wife, let alone a girl in love. The ring was too big. That much was obvious. It could slip right off her finger if she wasn’t careful. And it clearly wasn’t real gold to anyone looking close enough, not something a proper lady would ever wear or accept from a proposal, too tacky and false.

This whole ruse was tacky and false. 

“Unfortunately we only have one room left, but the executive suite will be far too high outside of your budget.” The clerk’s voice was nasally and tired and uninterested. And suspicious. He pushed his spectacles up his nose. 

Anya knew enough Polish to get by, and Vlad was proficient in the language, able to navigate the conversation easily. But Dmitry was practically in the dark next to her. 

Vlad, always persistent, gave it his all, weaving a tale of woe behind them. But he was running out of thread. One glance in Dmitry’s direction said it all. You’re up. 

Dmitry stepped forward, pulling Anya with him. “Forgive me, sir,” he started, halting and slow. He had his cap crumpled in his hands. The spitting image of a humble working boy. “My wife and I have come a long way, and she’s awful tired and needs her rest.” He was dropping consonants and stumbling over the words, but Dmitry was playing it as a sort of shyness instead of a language barrier. “I don’t think we can bear it if we have to move on tonight.” 

Vlad jumped in again, throwing more lines to his scene partner with an expertise that made Anya raise her eyebrows. They went back and forth a bit. Dmitry and Vlad had done this before— had made a livelihood out of improvising together. They came to their jobs prepared with premeditated characters, scene notes, and sometimes even costumes. She’d seen them in action a few times at the market. Next to them, Anya felt a little out of her depth. She couldn’t lie like that on the fly. Not even for a warm bed. She could play pretend, yeah, but she needed to warm up a bit first, not jump in cold like these two. Perhaps she should look at this as practice for her big moment with the dowager empress soon.

She snapped back into focus when Dmitry, instead of hooking his arm through hers like before, snaked his hand around her waist and tugged her flush against his side. She offered a smile, hoping she looked like a new wife who ran away from her disapproving father (?) to be with the man she loved, not just an orphan desperate to get off her feet. 

The clerk remained unimpressed with this charade. “Next town is a few kilometers south of here. Maybe you’ll have better luck there.” 

Vlad and Dmitry shared a knowing look. This might not be a round they would win. 

Thunder rattled the walls. Anya’s heart raced. They went through all this trouble for what, to be thrown out? After all of that? No. She wouldn’t allow it. Not even some bored and self-important clerk would take away her rare chance of rest and safety from whatever Cheka officers were on their trail. 

And Anya really, really didn’t want to sleep in the rain tonight. 

“Please, sir,” she said, her voice meek and wobbly. She hadn’t planned on speaking at all, both boys gave her surprised looks. “We’ve come a long way, we have nowhere else.” She didn’t know where the tears were coming from. Vlad was watching her with his mouth agape. “The last inn didn’t have beds available either, so we’ve had to walk ten more kilometers in search of room and board, and I haven’t eaten in a day—” she swallowed, “can you at least spare us a meal?”

The clerk was visibly uncomfortable. “I’m afraid the kitchen is closed, and only available to our guests…”

Anya nodded, smiling sadly. “I understand. You’re just doing your best.”

Dmitry’s grip on her waist tightened and he bent down, lips brushing her ear, “It’s okay, darling.” His hot breath startled her, but she willed herself to not show it. He was just playing the pity card. Nothing to get worked up over. “We’ll find a place in the next town, I promise.” 

The clerk was still just looking between them regretfully. It wasn’t working. 

Anya took a shaky breath. “It’s just,” she sniffed, lifting her hand to her stomach, “I’m eating for two now.”

The clerk’s eyes widened. Anya didn’t have to look up at Dmitry to know his neck was red, his sharp inhale only audible to her. Because the thought of him knocking her up was— well, not exactly something she even wanted to consider right now. 

“I— I’ve only just found out, you see, and I had hoped— it hasn’t been easy, you know, in these times—” her hand came up to cover her mouth, as if overcome with hopelessness, “but I hoped there would be good people out there who will give our child a good future…” she let herself dissolve into pitiful sniffles. 

“Uh,” the poor clerk’s upper lip was damp with perspiration, “well, miss, that still doesn’t change the fact that we don’t have any rooms in your price range, and—”

“Oh good grief Julian,” the woman next to him finally spoke up, slamming her book shut. “Give the poor girl a bedroom!” 

“What?”

Annoyed, this woman— Anya’s new best friend— shoved him away from the guest book. “We can offer our nicest room with a garden view on the house. And while the cook has left we still have plenty of stew that can be warmed up. Supper tonight and breakfast tomorrow free of charge.”

Anya felt guilty right away. “Oh, that’s not necessary—”

“Nonsense!” She was already handing them a key. “Julian, their luggage. You just follow me dear.”

Anya wiped her cheeks, the satisfaction that they got what they wanted making it easy to stop crying. Dmitry was staring at her with an expression she couldn’t quite name. 

“Was that too far?” She asked under her breath when they were out of sight and earshot. 

Dmitry’s lips tugged at the corners, just a little. Like he was fighting it. “It was genius.” 

The three of them followed their savior up the squeaky steps while she chatted. Turned out the woman who helped them, Lena, was the owner of the entire establishment. They didn’t need to convince everyone of their ruse, just the right person, and they’d succeeded. Lena kept touching Anya’s shoulder, somewhat motherly, speaking so fast Anya wasn’t quite able to catch every word in the unfamiliar language, but she understood the sentiment all the same. Appreciated it. 

The room wasn’t all that grand, but it was warm and dry and had enough beds for them all to sleep. The woman promised dinner would be warmed up by the time they were settled and said to just head down when they were ready. And then they were alone. Anya felt tension in her shoulders drop. They could take a little intermission from their show. 

Vlad was laughing like a madman. “Anya, you beautiful, brilliant girl. You ought to be on the stage!”

Anya wiped one last false tear from her cheek and gave him a smile. “I don’t know how you boys made it this far without me.” 

“Neither do I!” 

She couldn’t help but let out a little giggle, his enthusiasm was always so contagious. Dmitry was still just. Staring. Pretending not to stare. 

Vlad poked around and complained about the room, how “that son of a bitch clerk didn’t need to be so uptight for something so goddamn mediocre. I mean, it’s just one full and one twin bed, for god’s sake! I paid for the executive suite, it should at least have some class.”

“You didn’t pay for anything,” Dmitry interjected. “None of us did.”

“Well, I negotiated for the executive suite.”

“Technically, Anya did the negotiating for us…”

Anya personally didn’t have anything to complain about. A bed was a bed. But she understood his sentiment, his impatience for reaching the promised land of a sort, of just wanting something nice and comfortable and safe. 

Anya sat at the corner of the twin bed, where she would sleep tonight, and removed her boots for just a few minutes, just to curl her toes and flex her aching feet, and then they all changed into dry clothes and she had to put her boots back on so they could go downstairs to eat. Her stomach was roaring at the prospect of getting a hot meal by the time they were in the dining area. For a second she was afraid her hunger was making her so dizzy she might stumble on the steps. The three found a table for four. Anya, all too aware of the pressure of the performance, pointedly waited to sit until Dmitry remembered to pull out the chair for her. Because. You know. They were supposed to be married and that was what married people did. At least she thought. 

They ate quietly and quickly, the sound of spoons scraping bowls. Anya hoped she looked like a lady who was just a little hungry and not the starving creature washed off the streets she actually was. 

Vlad, rightfully exhausted of their company, made himself comfortable at the bar, chatting up the barmaid as she closed. Anya figured she probably shouldn’t join him at the bar ‘in her condition.’ So that left her alone at the table with Dmitry. Her alleged husband. Even if it was just a ruse for the night, the title still made it hard for her to look at him.

Dmitry’s knee was bouncing under the table. Maybe he was just as anxious and uncomfortable by how this night had gone as Anya was. 

He picked through his meal, chewing slowly. Her bowl was empty, but she stared longingly at it, as if she could make more stew appear out of thin air. It would be fine. She’d survived on less. At this point she was just praying no one who worked at the inn would come and talk to her because she didn’t have the energy to keep up these pretenses much longer. 

Dmitry cleared his throat. “You still hungry?” he asked. 

“No,” Anya lied. She forgot to adjust her tone to that of a wife. From afar they probably looked as gloomy as two people who had to just dig a grave. But if she was honest she would tell him she forgot what it felt like to not be hungry. Her stomach had transformed into a bottomless void. 

“You can have mine.” 

“No,” she said again, meeting his eye for the first time since they got here. “You need the protein, too.” 

“I’m not really hungry.” He pushed his bowl towards her. “Seriously. Eat.”

Her stomach audibly growled again, betraying her morals. 

“You’re eating for two now, remember?” And then the corners of his mouth pulled into a grin that she couldn’t help but mirror. 

Dmitry’s smiles could completely transform his face. He usually smirked or scoffed meanly, but when he genuinely, truly smiled, it was beautiful. Even this little quiet one he was giving her now lifted ten years of sorrows off of him. 

Just to get him to smile at her like that again, Anya pulled his bowl closer to herself and started digging in. 

As she ate, they continued to sit in a not-so-uncomfortable silence. At the bar Vlad was talking louder and louder with each drink. Dmitry’s knee resumed bouncing. 

“You hear that?” he asked suddenly. “It stopped raining.”

She swallowed her bite and tilted her ear up. Indeed, the rain had stopped. “I guess we didn’t have to try so hard.” 

“No, this was worth it,” he insisted. Still fighting to keep his smile from widening to more than just a twitch of the corner of his mouth. “You about done? I don’t want them to come ask us any more questions.” 

“Me neither.” Her eyes went to the door, praying Lena wouldn’t come back and make herself comfortable at their table to grill her about the pregnancy, or their marriage, or their journey, or any other details about this little alternate timeline Anya didn’t want to write a script for. She scooped the last drop of broth onto her spoon, savored the taste. “Now I’m done.” Neither of them made a move to get up. Maybe they were tired enough to fall asleep at this table right here. But the nervous energy was making her heart race in her chest, maybe the same thing making his knee bounce, that the thought of going to bed made her feel all antsy and anxious all over again. “I don’t know if I can sleep,” she admitted. 

“Wanna go for a walk, then?”

The question surprised her. Dmitry’s expression was guarded, trying to look like he didn’t care. It had been a long day. The best thing to do would be to get to bed, head start on what little sleep she would get, to feel refreshed and ready to continue their journey in the morning. “Sure,” she answered. 

He nodded. “I’ll go get your coat.” 

Outside the rain had vanished, but the pavement was damp and shining with cold puddles, and even though they were well into March, there was a bite to the air. 

Dmitry shook water off of his boot, his nose scrunched in annoyance. “It almost makes me miss the snow.”

Anya shook her head. “I never want to be that cold again.”

“Fair.” 

He had left his hat in the room, she noticed. He pushed his hair away from his face, something she used to believe was a sign of his ever abundant vanity, something that would make her roll her eyes every time; but now she understood it was just a nervous tick that she was starting to find particularly endearing. Just a little. 

They walked in comfortable silence for a bit, content with just breathing fresh air for a few minutes. It was refreshing, really. Not having to pretend or to live up to any impossible expectations for once. To get to experience what mundanity was like with Dmitry. Everything between them so far had been life or death, emotions at their peak intensity, but right now things were relatively mild. 

Until Dmitry’s hand found her wrist, his pace quickening. 

“What is it?” Anya asked. Maybe taking a walk when they were on the lamb like this was stupid. 

“There’s this guy with a hat— I’ve seen the same man at least three times,” he whispered in a tense and low voice. 

“Do you think he’s following us?”

“Don’t know. Better not lead him back to our lodging.” 

They continued meandering around the quiet streets while Anya’s mind raced. “What if— do you think someone followed from—”

“Don’t know,” was all he said. 

Their pursuer had caught up to them. Anya tried to pretend he wasn’t there, keeping her gaze fixed ahead, but now that he was closer she could tell he wasn’t wearing the crisp uniform of a Bolshevik or seemed to be attempting to stop them. Phew. Anya’s shoulders relaxed just a hair. 

Not a Bolshevik. But a creep. 

“Hey honey, what’s he paying you for the night?” 

Anger flared in her stomach. Anya was calculating the best way to tackle the offender, maybe tear at his eyes for good measure, when Dmitry’s hand came around her upper arm. Not holding her back, just pacifying her. Reminding her he was there. Angling himself between her and the stranger when he said, “Just leave her alone.” 

The man, still talking only to Anya, jeered, “What? He doesn’t like to share?”

Before Anya could even utter an appalled Excuse me? Dmitry had the man’s lapels in his fists. 

“Say that again,” he hissed, “and you’ll be choking on your teeth.” 

The man belched and laughed. He clearly posed no real threat. He wasn’t like other men she’d had encounters with. But adrenaline was still coursing through Anya’s veins, and she was struggling to fight the panic from rising. 

Dmitry threw him back and he stumbled to keep his balance. Anya pulled at her companion’s arm and shoulder to prevent him from pursuing further. “Dmitry, stop, it’s not worth it.” 

His nostrils flared as he met her eyes. “You would just let him talk to you like that?” 

“I had it under control!” The offender started stumbling away, having deemed the pair of them not worth the trouble, though neither minded him much attention. “You don’t—” she tried to calm her nerves, to keep the desperation from leaking into her voice, “you don’t have to do that for me.” 

Dmitry was frowning at her, more in pity than anger. That made her mad. 

“I can handle myself.” 

“I know,” he raised his hands in defense. “I know you’re strong. That doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt.” 

She looked down at her hands, now trembling from the hysteria threatening to bubble over. She almost wished they were actually followed by a Bolshevik. That would’ve been simpler. Just a clean cut enemy that made sense, one they could confront, dangerous yet uncomplicated. But this cut a little deeper in a more embarrassing, personal way. An invisible fear she could not fight. And a lonely fear, too. 

“You okay?” he asked, voice soft, touching her elbow. Not grabbing, just. Touching. Offering. Leaving it up to her.

It took her aback, because, well. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone was looking out for her like that. Protecting her. Had anyone ever done that for her before, period? It wasn’t like she needed it. She could take care of herself. She’d proven so on the night those drunks had surrounded them, she protected them both, and the fighting was arguably worse than this. This particular situation hadn’t even escalated out of her control yet. 

And yet.

Man. It felt nice. To be seen as someone worth the effort. 

That someone like Dmitry Sudayev found her worth protecting.

The thought spooked her so much she had to step away. “I’m fine,” she said just to fill the silence, but it came out a little too curt, but it was too late to take it back. His hand dropped to his side. “Let’s just go back.” 

He still studied her, as if he was waiting for her to collapse or something. Reluctantly his eyes dropped. “Okay.” 

Too many embarrassing things happened tonight in a row. First the mortifying task of pretending to be a wife, then prompting the image that she was carrying his child, and now this. One at a time she could’ve handled these things, probably. But all within the span of a few hours? Who could?

Her chest was uncomfortably hot, like if somebody cut her sternum open a plume of steam would waft up. Her hands were still shaking so she balled her fists, and when that didn’t help she stuffed them in her pockets. Her breathing wasn’t quite right, either, but maybe walking would help in a few minutes, and she tried to avoid thinking about it too much because then she would forget to breathe altogether and then the whole mess would just get worse. Logically she knew she was safe. But her body always took too long to catch up. 

Dmitry just kept on watching her. Like she was an automobile accident he couldn’t look away from.

This kept happening. She kept falling apart in front of him and it was so goddamn embarrassing. Except she’d never really been embarrassed about this before, but there was something about Dmitry that just. She just didn’t want him to see her as a simpering mess all the time. She wanted him to respect her. So she clenched her fists, willing the cracks to stop spreading, physically keeping herself from shattering. Again. 

“Who… hurt you?” 

The question surprised her so much she halted in her tracks. “Who hurt me?” she asked, more angry than she meant. “Is it that obvious?”

“No, I mean— I just know how you…” he clenched his jaw. “If you need anything—”

“Look, I’m fine, okay? Just stop.”

“I’m only trying to help.”

“There’s nothing you can—” she exhaled, checking herself, then marched past him. “You wouldn’t understand.” 

“You think I don’t know?” he snapped, that awful pity morphing into something angry. “You think I don’t understand?” 

She whirled on him, daring him to challenge her, matching his sudden anger. But it fizzled out on her tongue when she saw the real pain and hurt in his eyes. 

He blinked and looked away, exhaling through his nose, perhaps just as surprised she didn’t fight him right away as she was. Wordlessly he marched on. 

It felt good to be angry with Dmitry. It always did. Not because their fights were righteous or cathartic or anything— and they were, she didn’t have to hold back at all, she could tear into him and he could handle it. But it felt good to fight him because he didn’t just roll over onto his back in surrender, he gave as good as he got. He didn’t see her as some weak little frail thing yapping at him. He saw her as an equal. A worthy opponent. Worth the effort. 

But he didn’t fight her now, and her disappointment was heavy in her throat, following him back to the inn in bewildered silence. Coward, she wanted to yell. Fight me, dammit. Look at me.

She couldn’t figure out why she cared so much. About how he saw her. 

They didn’t say anything else until they arrived back at the inn. There they had no choice but to pretend to be chummy, since Lena literally met them at the door, chirping happily as ever. She said their uncle had a little too much to drink, but they took care of him, brought him up to bed. Anya thanked her thickly so she would just leave them alone. 

Upstairs in the hall, Dmitry’s mouth was pressed in a firm, grim line. “What’s wrong?” Anya whispered. 

“They put Vlad to bed,” he said again. 

“I know. Would you rather him sleep at the bar?” 

“They put him to bed,” he repeated. “Your ‘uncle.’” 

She still shook her head, lost. 

He was impatient, agitated. “So why would they assume I, your husband, would share a bed with your uncle?”

It clicked. Anya’s eyes widened, and somehow Dmitry’s lips got even thinner. Just then they reached the door, and Anya pushed her way inside, hoping that maybe they were jumping to conclusions, maybe Vlad had righted himself, maybe—

Vlad was passed out on the twin bed, dead to the world. The bed where Anya was supposed to sleep. 

That hot, itchy feeling expanded in her chest again, back in all its glory, making her need to remove her coat immediately. If it weren’t freezing out she would open the window.

“I’ll just take the floor,” Dmitry whispered. 

She whirled on him. “No,” she argued. Of course this would be an argument. Every fucking conversation they had was an argument. She was so tired. “I already ate your dinner.” 

“Only half.” He slipped his boots off. Looking everywhere but at her. 

“And now I’m only taking half of your bed.” She stood over him while he knelt and fumbled with his shoes. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

He looked grimly over at Vlad’s peaceful form. “Maybe we can wake him up.” 

Vlad let out a loud snore just then. How could they take him out of such a peaceful slumber? After all they’d put him through? She held up her hands, irritated. “You first.” 

Dmitry did not move to wake Vlad as he suggested. He wasn’t as cold hearted as he pretended to be. He scrubbed his face. “What do we do?” 

Anya let out a breath. “It’s only one night,” she heard herself whisper. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal.” 

Dmitry looked like he wanted to protest, but all the exhaustion from today was heavy on his face, and it looked like he didn’t have any fight left in him. Neither did she, admittedly. 

“I can still take the floor,” he protested meekly. Anya ignored him. 

She changed in the bathroom. Dmitry had given her an old pair of pajamas a while back, since the palace had been drafty and cold. “Don’t want you catching your death and we have to start all over again with someone else,” he’d explained when he had pressed the pile of flannel into her hands. They weren’t the nicest set, moth eaten and pilled, but they had kept her warm, and she saw no reason why she shouldn’t wear them tonight. She had to roll up the cuffs of the trousers several times and the button up shirt hung much too loose on her frame, but they did the job. She let the ugly ring slip off her finger and she rubbed her knuckle. 

Anxiety flared in her gut again when she came back out into the bedroom. It wasn’t just the prospect of sleeping near Dmitry of all people that was making her nervous, it was the fact that she would be an absolute nightmare to share a room with, let alone a bed. Her dreams would feel so visceral and real she would thrash about with so much violence that whoever was in her path would take the brunt of it. And it would be so embarrassing for Dmitry, of all people, to see her like that. 

Again, why did she care? Why did his opinion of her matter so much? 

Dmitry was still fumbling with his bag, and even in the dark she could make out the way his henley stretched over his broad back. Another twist in her stomach. 

“Which side do you want?” he asked without looking at her. 

Did it matter? She pulled the hem of her sleep shirt down further. Perhaps the side closest to the door would be best. 

As she settled in under the comforter, Dmitry finally ran out of things to do to look busy, and inevitably crawled into bed next to her. The mattress squeaked and shifted with his weight. She could feel his warmth even from a few inches away. They both quietly stared up at the ceiling, and Anya thought this would be it. She would lay awake like this and pretend to be asleep until dawn. 

Vlad let out another loud snort, and maybe it was the exhaustion or the awkwardness, but for some reason Anya had to stifle a laugh. Dmitry grinned over at her. 

He rubbed his eyes, trying to keep from laughing, too. “This is so ridiculous,” he grumbled. 

Anya joked, just to keep him smiling, “I guess we really are committed to the whole husband and wife thing after all.”

His laugh was just a quiet huff of breath. “It seems so. I’m sorry about all of that, by the way.”

The apology surprised her. “No, it’s fine.” 

“You ought to be finding someone who really could put a ring on your finger, not just playing pretend.”

Anya scoffed. “I wouldn’t even know what to do with a man, let alone if I even want all of that.”

The silence was a little too long. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t think very many men would want to deal with a girl who can’t even sleep through the night without...” She didn’t need to finish. He heard her screaming in the night by now. Knew there was no use comforting her. 

“I bet there’s someone out there that’s up for the task.”

He would be sorry for saying that in the morning, after she inevitably kept him up all night with her thrashing and screaming. No one would have the patience for that when they were this exhausted. 

“Even if…” Dmitry was saying, “you don’t see that for yourself— getting married, settling down, I mean— you were pretty convincing tonight.”

She grinned. “I didn’t know I had that in me,” she admitted. “Or where the idea came from.” 

“Hunger, probably.” She could hear his smile. A breath. “Would you even want kids?”

Anya pondered it. “I don’t think I’ve even let myself humor the idea,” she answered. “Like, the thought is so far away. I’ve spent so much time worrying if I’m even going to get to eat today. A family feels completely out of the question.” 

Dmitry hummed. “But if you did find… peace, I guess. Like if all of your needs were taken care of.”

“I don’t know.” It was hard to fathom. “It depends. I suppose, if the right person came along, it might be a fun adventure.” 

“Ugh. You and I have very different definitions of ‘adventure’.”

She smiled. “No kids for you, then?”

“I dunno.” He paused. “I don’t think I’d make a very good dad.” 

“Why on earth do you think that?” 

He exhaled. “I don’t know. Kids are gross, I never really know what to say to them. And I just know I would fuck it up somehow.” He paused. “But I guess, like you said, if I met the right person… I’d consider it.” 

This surprised her. Dmitry was so independent, so ambitious, that she couldn’t picture him choosing to settle down somewhere with a family. The thought almost made her laugh. 

Just then Vlad shifted on the adjacent bed, startling them both silent. He was mumbling something in his sleep and Anya held her breath. The conversation paused to ensure Vlad was still sleeping, and when he resumed snoring, Anya exhaled. Dmitry did the same.

Her thoughts strayed to the false gold ring on the nightstand, to the ruse that got them this room. “What do married people even do?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even quieter. “What even is that?” 

“I haven’t a clue.” 

She made a list in her head. All of this angst had to be for something, right? Maybe that something was having children, as it was for the two characters they were playing tonight, or maybe something even more simple than that. Like not feeling lost or hungry all the time. Knowing someone would be there to pick up the pieces when you fell apart. Not having to pretend. “Live happily ever after, I guess.”

He snorted. “Like that exists.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I don’t know. For you, maybe. But it didn’t save my father. And I doubt it’ll save someone like me.” 

He said it nonchalantly but Anya frowned up at the ceiling, her brow hardening. That thing he said earlier tonight— You think I don’t understand?— was still nagging her, but she had no clue how to bring it up without sounding invasive. 

“I guess the tax break would be my reason,” he went on, and she could hear his smirk. 

She was starting to understand these stupid smirks and irritating jokes only came up when he was hiding something. Hiding something painful. 

“Dmitry.” She could hear his smile slip away as the pause lengthened. “What did you mean earlier? When you said… you said you know what that” —she lifted her hands in a vague gesture, because how was she supposed to sum up her experience with men in one sentence?— “was like.”

It took him a minute to answer. “It’s not very honorable.”

“We’re well past that,” she said, fighting a sudden, absurd laugh. 

She could hear his swallow. “So, back in Petersburg, I had to… do some things to survive.”

His gravity and vagueness were making her playfully impatient. “Conning wealthy women with your seductive ways?”

He sighed. “It was more like… the other way around.”

Anya didn’t know what to say. “Oh.” Dmitry didn’t offer much more. 

The humor and light energy was sucked clean out of the room. She felt terrible for bringing this up. But he was talking, and nothing about him sounded angry or upset or bitter. Just a little sad. But open. Which made her feel safe enough to ask, “Did you at least get some decent money out of it?” 

“Sometimes money. Most of the time it was just… a place to sleep.” 

She understood that kind of desperation. To do anything not to sleep under a bridge for just one night. 

“I was only a teenager when my father died,” he went on. Not defensively, not accusatory. Just. Telling a story. “I didn’t know how to keep up with the rent. When I lost the apartment, I knew going to an orphanage wasn’t an option, and I was still too young for factory work, so roughing it for a couple years was the only way to stay afloat.” He shifted. “There was decent money in street boxing. But I didn’t… have that in me.” No. He did, but he was a very rare man in the sense that he saw no point in smashing in someone else’s face, unless the situation called for it. Like tonight for example. He had a fighter’s heart, but no taste for violence. She couldn’t picture him in those bloody fights without wincing. “And, I mean, I pickpocketed some, stole food when I could. Lasted a couple years like that. But. It was inevitable.” 

Dmitry talked about the men and women alike who found him appealing enough to share a bed with for a night. It wasn’t boxing, but. A different sort of violence. A beating of the spirit. He didn’t go into detail. Didn’t need to. And Anya listened. Did Vlad know? Life hasn’t been easy for my young friend. Did he see a boy in need of saving? 

That small part of her wondered if Dmitry was just saying all of this to make her feel bad for him, the same way they played that clerk downstairs, but… something about this made her believe every word. And so much about him suddenly made more sense. She got the feeling he didn’t pull back the curtain often, or long enough for anyone to get a good peek, so she figured this was one of very few chances she would get to find more clues to solve the mystery that was Dmitry Sudayev. The ever perplexing man wasn’t so perplexing anymore. 

“It wasn’t so bad,” he was saying. “Really. There are worse ways to survive. And I know it’s— it’s not the same as what you’ve been through.”

I know you’re strong, she wanted to say, to echo back to him. That doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt. But she didn’t interrupt. 

“But it was never regular. And I only ever did it when I had a bad month, or when a con fell through, stuff like that.” His swallow was thick. “The women and men I was with never hurt me, or anything like that. But…”

She felt an ache in her chest for him. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know.” 

“I know. It’s just…”

It’s just it shouldn’t have come to that. Someone should’ve saved him. 

“I know what you mean,” she said in the dark. “Not that— I’m not saying I lived through that, exactly, but…”

“I know what you mean,” Dmitry repeated. Soft. Everything about him was soft right now. “It’s taken me a long time to… find my way back.” 

“But you’re so…” Anya didn’t know what to call it. Sure of himself? Comfortable in who he was? Confident? Proud? “You… know who you are.”

He loosed a slow breath. “You’re not the only one who’s lost, Anya.”

Her head tilted towards him, just able to make out the outline of his profile in the dark. And then he twitched in her direction and she felt him watching her, too. She looked back up at the ceiling. “The nurses that found me, they called all unknowns— girls who washed up with no past, no parents, and probably no future, I mean— they called all of us the same name. Anya. For documentation purposes.”

“The same way investigators use the name Jane Doe.”

“Right.” She pulled the blankets up to her chin. “But I can’t think of myself with any other name. I don’t remember what it feels like to not be lost.”

Dmitry was quiet, taking that in. “Me too,” he rasped. “Just a couple of strays, you and I.” 

The sentiment stirred up an emotion that made her chest ache. Not in a bad way, like her hunger or her loneliness, but… a different ache. A longing of some kind. She didn’t know how to voice this so she just said, “I hope you don’t have fleas.”

His laugh was a surprise, too loud in the dark. They hushed and waited to see if Vlad would wake. He kept snoring. Dmitry sighed through his nose. “I hope you don’t have fleas.” 

Anya grinned. There was no malice in the exchange for once, no undertone of something meaner or something with a bite. They were teasing. Something lighthearted. Even though neither of their hearts were light. 

It felt good to be angry with Dmitry, to fight him about something. But this, whatever this was, felt better. Like something clicking into place. Something permanent. 

Maybe… maybe she didn’t have to be so alone. Maybe neither of them did. Maybe Anya could let him help her when he offered instead of picking herself up. No, Dmitry couldn’t protect her from the nightmares, or the fear that was her oldest companion, but… he could keep her company. He could talk her through a problem. He was doing that now, logicing his way through something abstract and scary with her. Not because he thought she was weak or he pitied her, or because they had to in order to survive, but because he wanted to. 

Maybe she could do the same for him. 

Dmitry was saying, “I hope Paris lets us in.” 

“What, you think they’ll lock the gates or something? Because two orphans are too dirty and smelly for their clean city?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m picturing. Drawbridges and two sentries with menacing swords and everything.” 

She bit her lip, fighting a laugh. “That’s ridiculous.” 

“You’ve never been. You don’t know what it could look like.” 

“I think they’re beyond the Middle Ages.” 

“We’ll see. I won’t hold my breath.” 

Anya rolled her eyes. When he was committed to a joke, he committed all the way, that was for sure. Maybe that was the little gift of the night. Peeling back the layers of how unforgiving his life had been. Showing her the person someone once called Dima, who had hopes and dreams like anyone else. Making her believe that boy was still somewhere inside him. 

She let out a breath. “I’m sorry for prying.” 

“Don’t be,” he whispered. “I haven’t talked about this with anyone before.” 

There was a long pause. “We’re pretty good at keeping secrets for each other,” she finally said, voice soft. 

“Yeah,” he rasped. “It feels nice.” 

“It does.” She swallowed. It did. It felt really, really nice. 

“We’d better get some sleep,” Dmitry said.

“Right,” she whispered. She tucked her arms under the blankets and he rolled onto his stomach, the mattress shifting with him. “Goodnight, Dmitry.” 

“Goodnight, Anya.” 

Somehow, without her noticing, the anxiety plaguing her had simmered away at some point, leaving only a pleasant hum of nerves. A prickle of sleepy contentment. Instead of worrying about whatever horrors lay ahead in her dreams, or mulling over the uncomfortable events of the night, Anya just focused on the soft sound of his breathing, the comfort of the soft down pillow, the heaviness in her eyelids, and she was able to peacefully fall asleep. 

When the inevitable nightmares came, they didn’t last long. In her dream someone was shushing her, telling her she was okay, grounding her. And there was a hand emerging from the dark and pulling at her waist. 

When she woke, her face was pressed against warm fabric, something alive and breathing, a heavy arm draped over her side, fingers brushing her back, soft puffs of air in her hair. So. That part of the dream was real, at least. Not the blood or the screams or the voices or the smoke, but this. Dmitry had pulled her close in the night. She felt a flicker of embarrassment that she had thrashed so much and woken him up and hadn’t even remembered it, but then she just. Let herself live in this for a second. The fact that he’d comforted her without complaint or question or impatience. Had managed to gently coax her out of her nightmare. 

I bet there’s someone out there that’s up for the task, he had said last night. 

Hmm. 

Without thinking too deeply into it, Anya nuzzled herself into his chest again, letting the gentle hum of his heart lull her back to sleep. 

[trashyswitch]

Take a Break, Sun!

Sun is overworking himself, and Moon is not having it. Sun needs a break, and he's going to make sure he takes one. But Moon is left flabbergasted when Sun tells him his plans for his break.

This fanfic was suggested by @todo-simp1384. She helped me out with this fanfic, and I got her approval before uploading it! So I already know she enjoys it. But I hope everyone else does too!

Moon couldn’t believe just how much Sun had been moving around. He would be in one place, then practically teleport across the room to the next place…then he would teleport up to the slide and help a kid slide down, before teleporting to the ballpit to pull a kid out of the ballpit. Though technically it wasn’t teleporting…it certainly felt like teleporting. Because everytime he looked away and looked back at Sun’s previous spot, Sun wouldn’t be there anymore. And then Moon would look somewhere else and see Sun a good 20 feet away from him. How in the hell he was able to do that…he had no idea. 

All he knew was that Sun, His brother and business partner in the daycare, was in desperate need of a break. And Moon knew EXACTLY when, and how to do it. He just had to wait patiently for the correct time. 

Several hours later: 

 The last of the kids had left the daycare for the night. Though it was getting dark outside, the daycare was still lit up in its full, blue light-safe, LED lighting. Moon started to walk up to Sun in hopes of setting his plan into motion. “Hey Sun-” 

“Can you help me collect the glitter glue?” Sun asked him. Moon was thrown off guard by this request at first. But, like a good brother would, Moon followed his instructions and picked up the nearby glitter glue bottles before carrying the glue bottles back to the correct bin. “There you go, Sun.” Moon told him. “Thanks, Moony!” Sun declared. 

“How about-” 

“Oh! A child left crayons on the table! Let’s get those collected next.” Sun told him. 

Moon, once again, was caught off guard by this instruction. But, like a good brother, Moon collected the crayons And put them back into the correct bin. “Crayons are cleaned up, Sun.” Moon told him. 

“Wonderful!” Sun reacted. 

“As I was saying-” “Hold on: There’s just one last thing to do.” Sun told him. “Can you help me collect the blue chairs and put them in groups with the tables, please?” Sun asked. 

Moon was growing pretty annoyed by this point. He couldn’t even get a sentence in! But alas, like the good brother he was…he collected the chairs and placed two-three chairs at every kids’ table. “All done.” Moon told him. 

“Fantastic! We’re all ready for tomorrow!” Sun declared happily. “I cannot wait for the kids to come back!” Sun reacted, looking all starry-eyed. 

“Sun…” Moon said, before grabbing his rays and making his brother look him in the eye. “I think you need a break.” Moon told him. 

“W-What?” Sun muttered. “But-...but-” 

“No buts! You need a long break from everything in the daycare. The children, the clean-up, the lessons, all of it.” Moon told him. “You are going to overdo it one of these days, and end up overheating on the job.” Moon warned. “And you have done that before.” He reminded him. 

“Wha- No I haven’t!” Sun argued. “Yes, you have. You just don’t remember.” Moon told him. “They had wiped your memory when you overheated the last time.” Moon told him. 

Sun sighed and looked around. “I don’t know what you’re so worried about. I feel fine.” Sun told him. 

Moon looked at him with a ‘...really?’ look on his face. “I highly doubt that.” Moon muttered aloud. 

Sun smiled and squeezed Moon’s shoulder. “I’m okay. I promise.” Sun told him softly. “I don’t want you to worry about me. I want you to worry about yourself.” Sun told his brother. 

Moon stared at Sun for a few moments, before sighing. “Fine…” He said, looking away. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I did THIS!” Moon dove into his brother and started covering his belly with tickles. 

“BaHAAA! MOOHOOHOON!” Sun shouted suddenly, doubling over and wiggling around in his grasp. “Wahait NOHOHOOO! Moohoon, dohohohon’t!” Sun ordered. 

“Don’t what? Don’t tickle your ticklish little tum-tum?” Moon teased, sneaking a finger right where the belly button should be. 

Sun squealed and grabbed his hands with his own, shaking his head as somewhat manic laughter left his speaker. “Moohoohoon, plehehehehease! Dohohon’t sahay ihit like thahahat!” He reacted. 

“Aww, can’t handle when I refer to your belly-welly as a little tum-tum?” Moon teased rather evilly. “Ain’t that a shame…” He whispered in an almost unbearably soft voice. 

Sun tried to push Moon off him, but it was no use. Moon was equally as strong with him, which made pushing him away somewhat more difficult. On top of that, the exhaustion of helping the kids all day hadn't really gotten to him…that was, until Moon started tickling him senselessly. It was only after that when Sun had REALLY noticed his tiredness. 

“Ohokahahay, Ihihi’ll tahahake a breheheheheak! Ihihi prohohohomihihise!” Sun told him. 

“Oh you will, will you?” Moon asked with a smirk. 

“Yehehehehehes! Ihihihi swehehehehearrrrr!” Sun replied, hoping and praying Moon would stop. 

“Well, I’m afraid I’m not convinced enough.” Moon let him know. “Perhaps a few more tickles will convince me?” He offered. 

“Cohohome ohohohohon! Whyhyhy dohohon’t yahoo belieheheheve mehehehe?!” Sun asked. 

“Because if I can recall…you have told me multiple times in the past that you don’t need breaks.” Moon told him. “And you continued to have that belief…well…until now, that is.” Moon added. “I just want to be extra sure.” Moon admitted with a little wink. 

Sun closed his eyes as giggles continued to leave his speaker. “Fihihihine. Juhuhust gohoho eheheasyhy.” Sun ordered. 

“Will do, Sunny.” Moon replied. 

Moon laid Sun down on the green mat, and got his brother properly comfortable. “One…” He brought his fingers slightly closer. “Twooo…” He brought his fingers mere inches to his sides. “...Three!” Moon touched down his hands and skittered his fingers all over Sun’s sides. 

Sun squeaked and threw his big head back with a cackle. “OHO NAHAHAhahaha!” Sun laughed, kicking his feet like a quick little swimmer. “MOOHOOHOONYYY NOHOHOHO!” Sun yelled. 

“Oooh, but Moony YES!” Moon declared. “Now tell me exactly what you’ll do on your little break.” Moon ordered him in an unusually calm voice. 

Sun struggled to think of activities to do on his break. Cause man…he had so much to do before the kids come over to the daycare again! “Ihihi’m gohohohonnaha…” Sun let out another fit of laughter as he thought for a little bit. 

“Hmmm? You’re going to what?” Moon asked in a low, teasy voice.

“Ihihi’m gohohonna gehehehet colohohorihihing pahahages reheheheady fohohor tohohomorrohohohohow!” Sun told him. 

Moon rolled his eyes. “That’s still work, Sun.” Moon warned. “Do you even know what a break is?!” Moon asked jokingly. “YEHEHES! IHIHI DOHOHOHOHO!” Sun yelled back. “Try again then. What are you gonna do on your break?” Moon asked. 

“Ihihihi’m gohohonna…Ihihi’ll fihihihix thehe tehehelevihihihision!” Sun told him. 

Moon shook his head. “Unless you are desperate to watch a movie, we do NOT need you trying to fix the TV. The tech mechanic will do that for you tomorrow.” Moon told him. 

“Buhuhuhut- Ihihi wahahahanted to tryhyhyhy!” Sun admitted. 

“Well, no trying till the mechanic gets here.” Moon moved his fingers to his ribs. “Try again. What will you do on your break?” Moon asked. 

Sun shook his head and started cackling. “Ihihihi’m gohohonna…g-gohohohonna tihihickle you bahahahack!” Sun told him. 

Moon blinked and widened his eyes in surprise. He was a little taken aback by this response. “Oh?” He reacted. “You’re gonna…tickle me back on your break?” Moon asked. 

“Yehehehes! Ihihi swehehehear byhyhy ihit!” Sun declared. “Ahahahand yohohou cahahahahan’t stohohop meeheeheeheehee!” Sun added.  

Despite the words being jumbled up by laughter, Moon could still feel the nervous butterflies starting to fill his artificial abdomen. “Y-...You’re right.” Moon replied. “I can’t stop you.” Moon admitted. “However…” He smirked all over again as he looked up at the rays. “I can do THIS!” Moon blew a big raspberry on one of Suns’ bright yellow rays. 

“BahAHAHAHAAAA! MOONYYYY! YAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! WOOOHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!” Sun shouted and screamed. His sun rays were the most ticklish spot on his entire body! And Moon KNEW THAT! Why was Moon tickling him THERE OF ALL PLACES?! Wasn’t he supposed to be going easy?!

“My goodness! Such ticklish little ultraviolet rays~” Moon teased as he fluttered his fingers on his fake rays. 

Sun jumped and cackled, wiggling his rays in a fruitless attempt to get his rays away from Moon’s evil fingers. “THIHIHIS IHIHIS SOHOHOHOHO CRUHUHUEL!” Sun yelled. 

Moon chuckled. “I know…but you can’t deny just how much fun you’re having…” Moon mentioned, fluttering his fingers on the rays above his head. 

Sun couldn’t really say no to that. Despite the circumstance that got him into this mess, Sun really was having a lot of fun. His wiggling rays also somewhat hinted at this fact. Sun had a funny little habit where he would wiggle his rays when he was happy or joyful. It was like a funny little stim he had developed overtime. The little kids found it funny and loved to tease him about it. Meanwhile, Moon had found it absolutely adorable. It was an endearing trait that always told Moon he was having fun. “OHOHOKAHAHAY, MAYBEHEHEHE IHIHI AHAHAM…” Sun admitted. 

Moon chuckled both teasily, and genuinely. “Your rays tell me everything I need to know.” Moon teased. 

Sun’s wiggling rays seemed to kick up a notch after Moon’s little response. 

“See? The rays don’t lie.” Moon told him. “They know how much you really love tickles.” Moon mentioned. 

If Sun could blush, he probably would’ve at this moment. Even though they were alone, Moon had a strange love for teasing him. Not only that, but Moon was ridiculously good at it! It was so unfair! But at the same time…kinda worth it. 

“Maybe if I tickle you long enough, I can convince you to not tickle me back.” Moon said out loud. 

Sun giggled and squeezed his eyes shut. Is he serious?! There was no way Moon would convince him to not get him back. “NOHOHO WAHAHAY! IHIHIHI’LL TIHIHICKLE YOHOU BAHAHACK!” Sun swore. 

“Suit yourself…” Moon teased before tickling the rays on both sides of his head: Despite what Moon was saying to him, Sun knew that ticklish revenge is inevitable. If you tickle Sun, even a little, he will make sure you get tickled back for at least 5 minutes before returning to his daily routine. And Moon knew this. Was Moon trying desperately to change his mind? 

Well sorry, Moon…not happening. 

“YOHOHOHOU CAHAHAN’T BREHEHEHEAK MEHEHEHE!” Sun yelled at him. 

“Oh really?” Moon reacted with a smirk. “We’ll see how much you can resist when I cover your rays in more of your favorite food:” Moon said before blowing raspberry upon raspberry on his brother’s rays. “Raspberries!�� 

Sun squealed and cackled super loudly. Raspberries?! Are you KIDDING ME?! How could someone possibly stay stubborn in these overwhelming conditions?! It’s almost criminal how talented Moon has proven to be in making him change his mind. 

“OHOHOKAHAHAY! IHIHI GIHIHIVE! MEHERCY, MEHEHEHERRRCYYYY!” Sun shouted. 

Moon chuckled. “Are you going to give up your idea of tickling me?” Moon asked. 

“YEHEHEHES YEHES IHIHI WIHIHIHILL!” Sun yelled back. “Proooomise?” Moon asked him with an evil smirk on his face as he tickled closer to the bottom of the rays. 

“YEHEHES, YEHEHEHEHEHES! PLEHEHEHEASE STOHOHOHOP!” Sun told him. 

Moon nodded his head, feeling like he did a job well done. He stopped tickling his brother, and let him lay on the ground to recuperate. “Are you okay?” He asked. 

Sun let out a sigh of relief before sitting up. “Y-Yeah…I’m okay.” He replied. “Are you okay?” He asked next. 

Moon smiled a bit and hummed. “Yeah. I’m alright.” He admitted. 

Sun got up and smiled brightly. “Good.” He said before wiggling his fingers at him. “Because my ticklish revenge will be coming very, very soon~” Sun teased. 

Moon widened his eyes and backed up. “S-Sun!? You promised no tickle-backs!” Moon argued. 

“I said ‘Yes’...I never said ‘I promise’.” Sun mentioned. 

Moon widened his eyes when he slowly realized he had been tricked. “Oh no…” Moon muttered. 

“Iiiii’m gonna getcha~” Sun teased, wiggling his fingers at him. 

“S-Sun? Ho-hold on…” Moon tried to protest. “Let’s think about this…” Moon offered. 

“You are well aware that I had this on my mind since you started the tickle fights.” Sun told him. 

“I-I did that because you weren’t taking a break!” Moon argued. 

“And I told you, I would tickle you back on my break.” Sun told him back. “And now, it’s my break time!” Sun wiggled his fingers at him deviously. “So tickle-tickle-tickles are coming your waaayy~” Sun teased. 

Moon squeaked and did a 180, before taking off running. “NoooOOO!” Moon shouted. 

Sun giggled and took off running after Moon. It didn’t take long for Sun to catch his brother mid-jump, and tickle his brother all over the place. He tickled his rib region, his armpits, his feet, and his little neck. It was the greatest break idea ever! He could get revenge, AND make Moony laugh for as long as he wanted! Nothing beat playful times with Moon. Maybe if Moon was willing to be tickled during some of the breaks, Sun would be encouraged to take more breaks. 

And if Moon didn’t like that…then…there are always other ways to make Moon laugh. 

[kata-sans]

Raising Stripe

Chapter 24

Craig was dead on his feet. Work had been especially tiresome that day due to insufferable customers with faulty cars. Everyone in town needed last minute checkups before hitting the road for Thanksgiving holiday. He was glad to have a long break from work.

After a long day at work, Craig was ready to call it a night but his phone began to ring. He didn't even bother to check the ID on his screen before answering, “Hello…Mom!...Sorry, I didn't mean to not call you. I've been crazy busy a-and…No I don't mean I'm too busy for you I just…Thanksgiving dinner?...Sh**! It completely slipped my mind… No we don't have other plans but… Mom no don't say that of course Tweek and I still care about you…Fine we'll be in Denver tomorrow…Love you too. Bye”

Craig groaned loudly into his pillow. His mom always had a way of making him cave into her requests. He heard his husband snickering by the bedroom door. He threw his pillow in his direction which Tweek easily sidestepped.

“Was that your mom on the phone?” Tweek asked full of mirth as he made his way to his side of the bed.

“We forgot about Thanksgiving plans with my family.” Craig stated with annoyance.

Tweek froze, “What! Craig, how did this happen! Your parents are going to think we don't care about them! GAH! We need to start packing. Good thing we restocked the diapers but we might need extra formula.”

Craig suddenly sat up straight with a shocked look. “Babe! I just realized, my parents don't know about Stripe!”

They stared at each other in silent horror. Needless to say, this Thanksgiving was going to be memorable in the Tucker household.

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

Laura Tucker was placing the final touches on her famous turkey marinade when she heard the sound of a car in the driveway. She quickly made it to door and saw her son and son-in-law climbing out of their car. Craig noticed her and had a guilty expression on his face.

“Hey Mom. I have a surprise for you. Please don't freak out.” Craig said as he moved to open the backseat.

Laura almost fell down in shock when she saw her son pull out a baby car seat from the car. She let out a shriek of excitement, “Craigory Tucker! Why didn't you tell me! Oh! THOMAS! Come here!”

Craig's father came rushing out at the sound of Laura's shouts. Thomas was surprised when he noticed his wife hovering over the baby carrier in Craig's hands. He joined his wife and clapped his son on the back in congratulations before suggesting moving indoors.

Inside the house, Laura had quickly taken the baby into her arms before confronting the couple about their surprise. “Craig, you brat! Why didn't you tell me about my grandbaby? What's his name? Are you fostering or did you adopt him?”

Craig cleared his throat, “Well umm, it's a funny story. You see, this is Stripe…”

Laura gasped, “You named him after your Guinea Pig!”

“No! The baby is our guinea pig. There was an accident and our friend Kenny turned him into a human baby.” Tweek explained.

Laura and Thomas were shocked. They could hardly believe the baby in Laura's arms used to be a guinea pig. He looked and acted just like a real baby. They spent an hour asking questions about Stripe and soon became comfortable with the situation. Regardless of the circumstances, they were going to enjoy the experience of having a cute baby in the family to dote on.

"Well regardless of how he came to be... Nana has something special in her attic for you." Laura said switching to baby talk when she addressed Stripe.

Laura immediately led the family into the attic. She instructed the men to move furniture and boxes until she found what she was looking for. Finally they found what she insisted on finding and together they pulled out into the living room three boxes labeled “Craig's Baby Stuff.”

Tweek was excited to see the momentos from Craig's childhood. Craig on the other hand was curious but embarrassed by the idea of Tweek rummaging through his baby items. The first box was full of baby clothes. Tweek gushed when he pulled out a tiny set of yellow rain boots. Laura pulled out the matching raincoat and pointed to a photo album in the box. Before Craig could grab the book to hide it, Tweek snatched it and began flipping through the pages.

“Aww. Craig you were adorable. Is this a picture of the raincoat?” Tweek asked as he pointed to the picture in the book.

“Yes, it was a gift from his grandma. He would always insist on going out in the rain just to wear it.” Laura said with a laugh.

Tweek continued to flip through the book until he found a picture of Craig standing next to a Winnie the Pooh mascot. He smirked and showed the image to Craig. “Look what I found.”

Craig frowned, “Burn it!”

Laura rolled her eyes, “Are you still holding a grudge against Winnie the Pooh? Craig that was years ago.”

Tweek perked up, “Is there really a reason he hates that bear?”

“Oh Craig used to love Winnie the Pooh.” She pulled out some toys with the cartoon bear. Stripe immediately reached out to grab the toys and Laura handed them over. “Craig would beg me to buy these for him. You can imagine how excited he was when we went to Disneyland and he met his idol in real life.” Laura laughed as she held up the picture.

“Anyways when Craig was four, we went on a trip to the zoo. Craig was eager to visit the bear exhibit because one of them was named Winnie. When we made it to the bear cave the poor thing was dead asleep. Craig really wanted to see Winnie and he began to shout and tap the glass. The bear was so mad, he charged towards Craig and scared him.” Everyone bursted into laughter while Craig turned red in embarrassment.

“Bears are stupid! That's all!” Craig tried to defend himself from his family's ridicule.

“Oh Craig it's okay to admit bears scare you.” Tweek said as he calmed down.

“I am not scared of a dumb cartoon bear!” Craig said petulantly.

Tweek kissed his cheek, “Sure, babe. Whatever you say.”

Thomas suddenly came into the room with a dusty trash bag. “I found it Laura!”

Laura jumped up with the baby in her arms. “Wonderful Thomas! Pull it out to see if it's still in one piece.”

Thomas nodded and pulled out a flat baby walker from the large black bag. He pulled it open and set it on the floor. Laura was pleased to see the bag had kept it clean and proceeded to place Stripe in the seat.

Stripe inspected his new chair. He noticed a tray full of toys in front of him and eagerly began to fiddle with each one. He had a rolling toy, a squeaky button, and a loop d’loop toy. Stripe was enthralled and began to kick his feet in joy. He ran his fingers through toy enjoying the cacophony of noise each one caused.

Tweek pulled out his phone and began to take pictures of Stripe in his new toy. Laura followed suit quickly snapping pictures of her grandbaby. She grabbed Craig's baby album and turned to a picture of Craig sitting in the exact same walker as an infant. Tweek and Laura compared Craig and Stripes' pictures laughing at how similar they appeared to be. The family enjoyed their time before preparing for dinner.

Ch23

Ch25

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

Summary: Din let's out a little more than he should

A/N: Hello lovelies,

Well hello gorgeous people, I'm posting this earlier than usual because I'm going to get my hair did and then I'm busy. Last day of vacation before I go back to work on Monday. Unfortunately, I didn't get as far with my writing as I wanted to during my vacation. Mainly because I was enjoying reading, sleeping and chilling way too much. But it's all good, because things are brewing in this head of mine.

Hope everyone has an amazing first 2024 weekend.

Love oo

Due to the past history of the OC there will be discussions alluding to past domestic abuse, please note that as it could be a trigger for some.

Warnings: tension, accusation of using someone, dealing with anxiety, misdirected anger, I think that's about it, if I miss any warnings please let me know.

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THE CRESTWORLD

CHAPTER TWO

My eyes glanced over Din one more time before I turned back to focus on Gorgu. 

Truthfully, I’d been surprised when he agreed to leave Grogu and I here, especially since it hadn’t even been a month since I joined them. 

However, he reminded me that a neighbour, a good one, was the difference between life and death out here in God’s country. It was a phrasing Din made sure to repeat at least twice a day since I joined him on the ranch, to help me realize and understand why having neighbours you could count on made all the difference. Seeing him willing to take off and help his neighbour simply reinforced his strong sentiment.

Kuiil no doubt appreciated the help from Din, especially when he almost lost his livelihood, because his flock of sheep took off, it was something that could’ve been detrimental to him.

I understood why he had to leave, but seeing as I was still new in taking care of his own livestock, granted it was only two horses, a nerf and nunas, it was still nerve wracking to be responsible to look after them. Din was gracious enough to write out detailed instructions on what needed to be done during the time he was away, which eased my anxiety somewhat, and really he wasn’t in the mood to have a tete-a-tete when he gave me the instructions, he was too annoyed and upset to discuss if he should or shouldn’t leave.

There was not much to discuss anyways when he still had that same attitude, I ignored his comment about Grogu’s lunch and paid attention to the adorable child eating his pancakes. 

“That’s no fun, right Grogu? Having the same lunch twice in a row?”

“Yup, Annie”

He wasn’t exactly comfortable around me, despite the amount of time we had spent together, but he was slowly opening up. He stopped hiding behind his father whenever he saw me, which was a huge step forward. He even liked it when I sat beside him during meal times. However, during the two days Din was away, I did notice he started to answer my questions more, which I believe was slowly helping us to grow more comfortable around each other.

“Okay, how about …” I looked in the fridge quickly, “how about a grilled cheese with veggies and fruits for tomorrow? Sounds good?” I asked as I took a seat beside him, eating my breakfast, as well.

He simply nodded as he ate his pancake, humming contentedly as we both danced while we ate, it wasn’t the best etiquette to have at the kitchen table, but if it allowed him to open up more to me and feel more comfortable, I was willing to do the little things I could.  

“You don’t have to do that.” 

Din’s miserable voice washed over them, as his eyes glanced from Grogu to Ann overtop his mug. He didn’t know why but something about her was starting to irritate him, or maybe it was just the exhaustion he felt from helping Kuiil round up his wayward sheep that was making her more irritable than usual. Either way, he wasn’t in the mood for her happy persona or the fact she somehow grew closer to Grogu while he was away.

“Do what?” 

I asked as I finished my tea and breakfast. I grabbed the empty plates and took them to the sink. He still hadn’t answered my question, as I packed up Grogu’s lunch that I made the previous night. I double checked Grogu’s backpack as I put his lunch bag inside, making sure he had everything ready for class, “Grogu, where’s your homework?”

“Grogu, get your homework” Din stated as he motioned with his head for his son to leave. His annoyance was at an all time high and he wasn’t able to hold back any longer. 

“Patu?” Grogu tilted his head as he shrunk back a little into himself. He knew his father could have a temper, though it was rarely seen, but somehow Grogu felt he may have done something wrong. 

Din noticed Grogu’s reaction, he leaned over and ruffled Grogu’s hair, and cupped his son’s cheek reaffirming that he was fine. He gave him a subtle smile, “It’s alright buddy, just get your stuff.” 

He watched as Grogu nodded and headed off, leaving him and Ann alone in the kitchen. There was something he needed to make very clear with her, and he didn’t want his son having to listen in to this particular conversation. As soon as Grogu was out of ear shot, he took the opportunity focusing his glare at Ann.

“Listen, I’m going to say this once and only once. I appreciate your help Ann. I’ll admit since you joined things have been going smoother, and I appreciate that you stepped up when I had to be away, but there’s something you need to keep in mind”

Silence filled the kitchen as I looked at him, there was something about the way he was keeping himself constrained that made me get my back up. I’m not sure what exactly triggered him or made him so irritable, but I felt as though I just walked through a minefield. Somehow, I was very close to setting him off, the wrong word or question and it seemed as if his self-control would evaporate. I took a deep breath and pushed away my nerves. Keeping my voice steady as I locked eyes with him.

“What’s that?”

“You’re. Not. His. Mother.” 

Din’s voice was laced with warning as his hand clenched around his fork, “You’re here to help, got that! So don’t use my son to try and get close to me. Understood!” 

As soon as those last words left his mouth, he saw how taken aback she was, and for a split second, he could have sworn there was a look of utter pain and disgust across her face.

My hands clenched around Grogu’s backpack, it took all of my strength, all of my patience, every last ounce within me, not to recoil or run away. For the first time since my ex, I actually wanted to yell at someone for saying something stupid and accusing me with an ulterior motive. In my head, I screamed, ‘WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING!’ But at this point, it wouldn’t have helped either of us. I took a moment, closed my eyes, took a deep breath and counted to ten to steady my nerves and quell the beginnings of anger in my heart. 

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@littlemisspascal@sprout-fics@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24 @spicymcnuggies @lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @tortor-mcgee @sarcasmismyonlydefense24 @chiyo13

[feverishly-kpop]

Matz & Ateez - Part 7

By the following evening both Hongjoong and Seonghwa were relieved that they were starting to feel better and were developing a severe case of cabin fever.

“Hyungs, you’ve both still got low grade fevers, you just admitted that yourselves. You should still be resting” Jongho chastised lightly as he took their dinner dishes from their hands and pointed back to their bedroom.

“Jongho-ah, we’re fine. It’s just the last of whatever is lingering. You guys have been working hard, let us clean up” Seonghwa argued back but was met by a hard glare from his dongsaeng.

“The last of whatever is lingering? I’ll remember that next time I’m ready to come back to work but am still sick.” Jongho’s tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Now go back to bed before I have to carry you there.”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa listened agreeably this time, heading back to their room as instructed. They really were feeling better, less the occasional dry cough and the mild aches and discomfort from the fever but being confined to bed for the last few days had left them unspeakably bored.

With the amount of sleep they had gotten since getting sick neither of them were particularly tired. After a few minutes of silence Seonghwa was back on his feet, cracking the bedroom door open and calling for Jongho.

Jongho quickly dropped the dishes he was washing out of concern that his hyungs needed something urgently.

“Do you need something?” Jongho called from the hallway before Seonghwa shook his head, gesturing for Jongho to enter their room. Jongho followed instructions albeit confusedly as Seonghwa sat back down on his bed.

“Jong, we are so bored” Seonghwa whined. Jongho laughed as Hongjoong nodded his head in agreement.

“Tell us what’s been going on at work” Hongjoong added, pointing to his desk chair for Jongho to sit down in.

“What happened to the ‘everybody stay away or you’ll get sick’ thing?” Jongho replied with a smirk.

“I highly doubt we are contagious anymore! Please?” Hongjoong was convincing enough for Jongho to take a seat.

Jongho decided to be a good sport, playing along by answering all of his hyungs’ questions about anything and everything that they had missed, the new choreography, funny anecdotes from practice, the goings-on at the company, really anything that would bring some variety to yet another boring day in bed.

After an hour of chatting Seonghwa’s eyes began to droop. Nothing got past Jongho’s watchful eye, letting out a soft coo in response.

“Enough talking, you two need to get some more sleep. Hopefully tomorrow you’ll both be back to normal” Jongho said softly. Hongjoong pouted in response, not ready for their conversation to end. Seonghwa, alternatively, simply nodded his head slowly, already falling asleep again.

Just as Jongho turned off the lights he was reminded of something he forgot to mention earlier.

“By the way, Maddox-hyung was back at work today. Eden-hyung didn’t let him do anything besides watch us all work but he��s feeling better than he was before so I guess that bodes well for you two as well” he said as he closed the door.

By the time he returned to the common area there were five pairs of expectant eyes glancing at him.

“So? Are they better?” Wooyoung asked, cutting to the chase. “Hongjoong-hyung said they were better but Seonghwa-hyung was still looking pretty feverish so it’s hard to believe them…”

“Hopefully by tomorrow” Jongho said firmly. “I think by tomorrow everybody will be back on their feet.”

[greybenjii]

Part 3: Random Stars and Shields Chapter

you know the drill! Tetsuro and Kira belong to me Matsubara and Aki belong to @patchesiclez ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day three dawned with a sense of urgency for the three of them. They had spent the previous day enjoying the festival of the owls, but now it was time to focus on their original purpose: finding medical supplies to replenish their dwindling stock.

As the trio packed up their campsite, they searched the village for any sign of extra supplies, but to no avail. The local apothecary had nothing to spare, and none of the villagers had any to offer. “Dang it, there is actually nothing here!” Kira said, frustrated as she slid against the wall. “Maybe we waited too long… It should have been the first thing we seeked out for.” Tetsuro said with a sigh. “Well, we still are on schedule! Maybe we can check back tomorrow? Focus on checking out stock today?” Aki suggested. The trio nodded in agreement. Frustrated but undeterred, they returned to camp, deciding to resume their search the following day.

Meanwhile, Matsubara watched them from a distance, her brow furrowed with concern. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss, but try as she might, she couldn't pinpoint what it was.

…

As night fell and the streets of the village grew quiet, Tetsuro found himself unable to sleep. Restless and unsettled, he slipped out of camp and wandered the empty streets, lost in thought. What are they going to do? They need medical supplies… What if something happens? What if one of them gets sick? Get’s hurt even…? What if he’ll be the cause… He thought to himself, tugging on his left glove. He paced back and forth, practically doing laps around the village, consumed by his fears. It was then that he stumbled upon the medication they had been searching for, lying abandoned on the ground. Tetsuro stared at the bag for a second before kneeling and opening it. Inside it was everything that they were looking for: Bandages, needle and stick, medication, everything. This could last them a while out there. But he couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. Why did this just appear out of nowhere? He had walked down this same street practically a million times and nothing. How did this conveniently end up at his feet? Tetsuro snapped out of it. Without hesitation, he picked it up, relief flooding through him at the sight of the much-needed supplies. But before he could return to camp, a figure emerged from the shadows, clad in armor and wielding a sword. Tetsuro's heart sank as he realized he had been caught, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an explanation. “Oh heeeyy Matsu,” Tetsuro said with a nervous laugh, “I was just out on a stroll–” he began before immediately getting cut off by the clanking of armor. Matsu wasted no time in accusing him of theft, their voice cold and authoritative, “Save your breath, thief.” He said and he grabbed Tetsuro along. “Oh come on, I found it on the street! I didn’t threaten anybody or broke into anything. You gotta believe me…!” Despite Tetsuro's protests of innocence, he was thrown into a makeshift jail cell, his heart heavy with frustration and disbelief.

“Oh you got to be fucking kidding me…” Tetsuro growled, slumping down from the wall and onto the floor. 

…

Hours passed like an eternity as Tetsuro sat in the darkness, his mind swirling with thoughts of betrayal and injustice. This is just my luck. Of course I somehow get caught with stupid shit like this. What am I gonna do? What are the others going to do? How are Kira and Aki going to get to me? They can’t find out I got in trouble again. They’re gonna take me to Avion Prison… Suddenly, as if his prayers were answered, the jail cell door opened. Outside the cell were two guards and Matsu towering over him. Relief instantly turns into dread, he brings himself to his feet and waits for instruction. “You’re free to go, kid.” One guard says. “There wasn’t enough evidence to tie you to a legitimate crime.” The other chimes, “Next time, stay off the streets, will you? We’ve been having too many problems with outside folks already.” Tetsuro stormed out of the jail, his anger burning like a wildfire, “So you thought imprisoning me for hours was the right thing to do? Are you actually serious right now? This is the second time this has happened!” He said, seething with rage. “Listen man, we go do our thing based on the tips and calls we get. It’s our job to investigate people of your kind.” “My kind?! This has to be a joke!” Tetsuro shouted, getting more and more agitated. Matsu, frustrated by their inability to frame him, stormed off in a fit of rage, leaving Tetsuro to stew in his own anger and confusion. Unable to contain his frustration any longer, Tetsuro set off in pursuit of Matsu, determined to confront them and demand answers for their accusations. 

"Matsu!" he called out, his voice echoing off the cobblestone walls. "Show yourself! I demand answers!" Tetsuo heaves, but nothing.

“Matsu, get your ass back here! You got some explaining to do.” Tetsuro shouted some more. When he turned the corner, Matsu had seemingly just disappeared. Confused, Tetsuro began to search high and low for this mysterious man. He refused to let this go until he gave him a piece of his mind. Despite the anger, he couldn't help but feel a stinging feeling in his chest about it all. Maybe they were all right, maybe Matsubara was right. He thought he had been changing, getting better. But perhaps he was always going to be a thief, his past constantly haunting him. … Tetsuro finds himself at the location Matsubara had mentioned to him during the festival, a place sacred to her and filled with memories of her past. In the tranquil embrace of the night, the lush garden near the river came alive with a kaleidoscope of colors beneath the gentle glow of the moon. The air was thick with the heady scent of flowers, each bloom a delicate masterpiece of nature's design. Tall stalks of lavender swayed gently in the breeze, their fragrant blooms releasing a soothing aroma that mingled with the sweet perfume of roses in full bloom. Delicate petals of cherry blossoms danced in the air, their pale pink hue a stark contrast against the deep greens of the surrounding foliage. Along the banks of the river, clusters of irises stood tall and proud, their vibrant hues of purple and gold reflecting in the shimmering waters below. Moonflowers unfurled their delicate petals, their luminescent white blossoms glowing softly in the moonlight like miniature stars scattered across the night sky. And as the moon cast its silver light upon the garden, it seemed to awaken a sense of magic and wonder that lingered in the air, enchanting all who beheld its splendor.

However, It didn't take long for Matsu to appear, their figure emerging from the shadows with an air of authority that sent a chill down Tetsuro's spine. "What do you want, thief?" Matsu sneered, their voice dripping with contempt. "Haven't you caused enough trouble already?" Tetsuro bristled at the accusation, his fists clenched at his sides. "I'm not a thief!" he protested, his voice rising with frustration. "I found the medication out in the open. I was trying to do the right thing!" Matsu scoffed, their eyes narrowing with suspicion. "The right thing for everyone or only for yourself? Save your excuses. The evidence speaks for itself." Frustration bubbled up inside Tetsuro, threatening to spill over into rage. "You have no proof!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the empty streets. "Face it. You're just a bigot, quick to judge and slow to listen."

For a moment, there was silence between them, the tension thick and palpable. And then, with a resigned sigh, Tetsuro turned and stormed off into the night, his heart heavy with disappointment. But even as he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of his mind. Something about this encounter felt off, as though there were pieces of the puzzle he had yet to uncover. Lost in thought, Tetsuro found himself drawn to the location Matsubara had mentioned to him during the festival, a secluded spot on the outskirts of the village. There was no way… As he begins to approach the garden, he finds Matsubara standing alone in the moonlight, their armor glinting in the soft glow and their helmet to her side. She turns around and sees Tetsuro, staring back at her. Her eyes began to widen as her face was mixed with emotions. Without a word, Tetsuro approached them, his gaze searching their face for any sign of understanding. "Why?" he asked finally, his voice barely a whisper. "Why did you do it?" Matsubara met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and regret, her features softened by the moonlight. "I had to," she replied, her voice heavy with emotion. "For the sake of the village, I couldn't let you get away with it."

Tetsuro's heart sank at her words, his anger fading into sadness. "Get away with what…? I didn’t do anything– I haven’t done anything since the moment I got here." he stammered, his voice tinged with sorrow. "You don’t understand. I was desperate, I was just trying to help." Matsubara scoffs, “Help? Is that what you call it?" she retorted, her tone laced with bitterness. "You waltz into our village, causing suspicion wherever you go, and you expect me to believe you're here to help?"

“But see, you can’t even name a crime I have committed. You had to frame me to support whatever delusional narrative of me!” Tetsuro laughs in disbelief before turning to her, “You come onto me with your gorgeous voice and your enchanting personality, pretending to be my friend. Was last night a fluke? I thought we could be friends.” He spat out. Matsubara looks away, ashamed and says nothing. Silence falls upon them briefly. Tetsuro's frustration bubbled up within him like a simmering volcano, threatening to erupt at any moment. "I didn't ask for any of this!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing through the empty silence. "All I wanted was to find some medicine for my friends, and now look where it's gotten me." The weight of Matsubara's accusations hung heavy in the air, suffocating and oppressive. Tetsuro's chest tightened with the burden of their words, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as he struggled to contain his rising fury. "You think you have the right to judge me?" he demanded, his voice trembling with emotion. "You don't know anything about me or what I've been through." Matsubara shook her head, her expression hardening with resolve. "The safety of this village is my responsibility, and I won't let anyone jeopardize it." She says firmly, her voice cutting through the night air like a blade.

Tetsuro's anger threatened to consume him, a tempest of emotions swirling within his chest. "Fine," he spat, his words dripping with venom. "Do what you want. But don't expect me to stick around and play your games."

“Tetsuro…” Matsubara began, but was immediately cut off. “Don’t… Save it, you made your point very clear what you think of me and my friends. We are leaving tomorrow anyhow, we will get out of your precious village.” Tetsuro says coldly. With a heavy heart, Tetsuro turned and walked away, the weight of Matsubara accusations pressing down on him like a leaden cloak. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but one thing was certain: his trust and its inhabitants had been shattered, leaving nothing but bitterness and regret in its wake.

[taleofturtleclan]

MOON 9

“Alright Foam, take a deep breath and hold it.” Foam obeyed, filling his lungs as much as he could, holding the air in. Dustjump, her ear pressed close to his chest, was silent. A heartbeat passed. Then another.

“Let the air out,” Dustjump instructed. 

The breath left Foam’s lungs with a sigh.

“Again,” Dustjump meowed.

Foam repeated the exercise, holding his breath. He could feel a bit of dust tickling his nose, but he couldn’t sneeze, not now. He closed his eyes tight, trying to ignore the sensation. This time, the exhalation came with a sense of relief as the dust drifted away from his nose. Dustjump pulled away from Foam’s chest, her eyes bright.

“Foam, you’re all better! You can return to light duties starting tomorrow. No long patrols, and stay out of the water until the half-moon.”

“You mean I don’t have greencough any longer?” Foam meowed.

“Yes,” Dustjump confirmed with a purr, “you’ve managed to recover. It can be a deadly disease, but you’re a young, healthy cat. If anyone would have been able to recover without herbs, it would have been you. Still, we should count our blessings. This was by no means a certain outcome.”

Brokenmast dragged himself out of his nest, over to Foam. “Congratulations!” He purred, butting his head against Foam’s shoulder. “I’ll miss having you around, though. Even if we did have to shout across the den to talk.”

“I promise I’ll visit you often,” Foam purred, “and before long, you’ll be able to move to the communal den as well.”

Brokenmast peered down at his splayed legs, focusing hard enough to tremble as he flexed each leg in turn, moving toes, ankle and knees. Over the last moon, his mobility in the limbs had improved remarkably, though they could not yet support his standing weight. “I hope you’re right,” Brokenmast meowed. “I’m really starting to believe it might be possible.”

“It is possible,” Dustjump cut in, “and you’re getting close.”

Brokenmast opened his jaws, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by a call from just outside the den’s entrance. “Dustjump, what’s the verdict?” Spindlepaw. Foam felt guilty, leaving her to her own ends these last few moons. Luckily, Shell had ensured she was always paired with another adult for training each day, so she hadn’t fallen too far behind, but still. Foam was supposed to be her mentor. He wanted to be the one to guide her training.

“You can come in, Spindlepaw,” Dustjump replied. “He’s all better.”

The little ginger cat came barreling into the den, fur fluffed with excitement. “Is he really?!” She exclaimed.“I am,” Foam purred, rising to his paws with a stretch. “We’ll resume your training tomorrow. I hope Shell hasn’t let you get too used to sleeping in.”

[thxrnking]

Imperfect - Chapter 8: Unite

Content Warning: none that I can think of, let me know if there’s something I should put here

[Imperfect Masterlist]

Author’s Note: I won’t go into too much detail about the delay. If you follow me you’ll likely be aware of enough. In either case I thank you all for being so patient with me. If you have any kind of reaction, I would really appreciate hearing what you think, in tags or replies or messages or whatever means. Be safe. Be well. - TK

----

“Congratulations, Jack,” Mother tells him, “You actually managed to prove useful for once.” She isn’t looking at him. There’s a sickening look of satisfaction on her face as she takes in the rampant chaos around them.

Thum thum.

Jack isn’t looking at her either, instead looking across the mass of minions in the throne room. There’s hundreds of them, maybe thousands and it almost feels like Jack’s actually seeing them for the first time.

For as long as Jack can remember, life has been nothing but agony; utter terror at even the thought of defying his Mother. Every day has been focused on survival by taking the path of least resistance. It’s been a miserable existence. Yet Wanderlust has been there.

Not every day; you couldn’t set your watch by him, but he was always going to come. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but he was coming back. Thinking about it, there were many days where Jack only dragged himself out of bed with the thought of ‘maybe today’.

Now, he’s somewhere amongst that writhing mass, but Jack can’t accept that that’s it. It can’t be over, this can’t be the end. Mother’s magic is powerful, but so is Wanderlust. Magically, maybe or maybe not, but the Prince did something Jack didn’t even know was possible.

He gave Jack hope.

Thum thum.

It burns fiercely in his chest as he looks out over the crowd, desperately searching the minions for any sign of who they used to be. They’re identical in every aspect; same heights, same colours, same designs, but there has to be something; some quirk, a birthmark, the way one of them holds themselves. There has to be some way he can figure out which one of them is Wanderlust.

Nothing.

Jack looks to Mother, glaring intensely. Whenever Jack has been unsure and confused she has always been there to tell him the answer. She’s been the one to give him the guidance she’s always insisted he needed, and Jack has never once questioned it. She’s his Mother, there was no reason to.

“I’m sure this must hurt you,” Mother tells him, “but it’s all for the best.”

There was a time Jack would have believed that. Accepted it without question, bowed his head and followed her instruction. Even now, part of him is trying to push him down that road but as he glares at her, it’s like he’s seeing her clearly for the first time.

Thum thum.

It’s not that she’s lying, she really believes this is for the best but Jack doesn’t. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense that the strange blue stranger who’s followed Jack for years, showed him kindness he probably doesn’t deserve, is gone. That he’s lost. That just doesn’t make sense.

Wanderlust’s friends are engaged in battle, Dancing with minions, freeing them from Mother’s magic. So it is doable. They’re saving them, slowly but they’re still doing it, they’re still trying. They’re not afraid, not hesitating. It looks hopeless. There are so many minions and so few of them, but they don’t stop trying.

Jack takes a deep breath. It’s weird. Like he’s spent years walking around in a foggy daze, half asleep. Never argued, never fought back, never questioned. He’s always done as he’s told and it’s made it so easy for Mother….Night Swan to mould him to her needs.

Thum thum.

Now though, at long last, it’s like he can finally breathe. Like he can actually see and think and feel for the first time. Her words are just words. Where he used to be afraid, now there’s just...rage.

He turns, stepping purposefully into Night Swan’s eyeline, standing, staring. Fists clenched, brow furrowed, Jack stands in outright defiance of her, something he hasn’t done in a very long time. She doesn’t even blink.

“A little late to grow a conscience.”

She doesn’t even look at him but Jack doesn’t budge. She took his voice in so many ways a long time ago, but he won’t let her dismiss him now.

“Remember your place.”

Seconds slowly tick by until she finally turns to him. Her lips are a thin line, her piercing eyes boring into him. It’s a look Jack has seen many times before and sends a chill through him. Silence, hot pointed silence stretches out between them. Jack doesn’t flinch or move, while Night Swan’s glare silently dares him to give her a reason.

Thum thum.

“Think about this very carefully, Jack.”

A jolt of anger pierces her stern voice. She can feel it too, can’t she? The shift. The change between them. Even as Jack’s every instinct tells him to stop, that defiance will lead to his death, he turns and runs.

The impulse has barely passed by his brain before he bolts, running straight into the mass of minions. None of them move, forcing him to weave and sometimes push his way past. He doesn’t dare to look back to see if she’s following. It’s a question that doesn’t need answering. She doesn’t matter any more.

Thum thum.

Distance. There’s no such thing as too much of it at this point. As he runs, the pounding in his chest matches the sound of his feet. Steady, firm, unwavering, even as he feels wired and frantic, his breathing erratic.

Thum thum

Strong, heavy, sturdy. It pulses up through his feet, shaking his very bones. He begins to slow as it dawns on him. Corrupted strangers surround him. He turns, this way, that way. He comes to a stop. Waiting, heart beating. Come on.

Come on!

Thum thum

There. Something. A firm tug pulling on him, trying to draw him forward. Like a heartbeat played by a bass drum. Constant, unerring, unwavering. And getting stronger.

Slowly he steps through the crowd. While the minions don’t part as they would for the Night Swan, they start to move, stepping out of his way, as he follows the pulse one step at a time.

Thum thum

Jack doesn’t know where it’s leading him. Maybe there’s a flicker of a thought somewhere at the back of his mind, but in truth, the adrenaline coursing through him is making it very hard for it to get through.

Thum thum

The minions are shifting around him at this point, guiding him through until he steps into a gap in the crowd. The minions around it are all facing in but Jack’s focus is drawn to the one on the other side of the makeshift clearing.

Thum thum

It’s foot stamps in time with the beat. None of the other minions around the gap move.

Can it…?

Thum thum

They stamp again. They can feel it too.

Wanderlust?

Thum thum

The minion reaches one hand across to his shoulder before throwing it forward, then doing the same with the other.

Jack steps forward, his own arms moving, following the guidance of the beat, joining in the Dance without thinking, without questioning.

Thum thum

They both move, together, though not quite in sync. The minions around them watch in silence, sure to give them space as they move.

The pair of them circle around each other, before reaching, finally moving as one. A hand to one direction, the other to the other, then Jack reaches across himself. It’s his move. One of his favourites from his favourite performances. One he’s used since he was a child. A move of pure self-indulgance, included for him and him alone.

He spins and as he turns, he sees the minion’s hand held out to him, as Wanderlust has always done. Every time, holding a hand out for Jack. To help him up, to invite him in, to let him know he’s seen. No matter how many times the performer ignored it or dismissed it or pretended it wasn’t there, Wanderlust was always reaching out to him.

Jack sees the hand and doesn’t hesitate, grabbing it.

Dark smoke quickly engulfs the minion. Jack tightens his grip, ignoring the numbness and thrusts their hands in the air. The smoke blows away to reveal black, blue, gold, purple, pink and a wide smile.

The Prince, grips Jack’s hand and pulls him in, wrapping his free arm around Jack’s back and holding the performer close, chuckling gently. He mutters something but Jack doesn’t hear it, brain frozen in shock.

He did it.

He actually did it.

[violetsixx1981]

Kevin, We Need To Talk! Part 3

Word Count 773

Discussion of Abortion

For the next several weeks, you avoided Kevin like the plague. Which proved to be exceedingly easy, as he appeared to be avoiding you too. You didn’t know what to do with the knowledge you now possessed. Did you even have it in you to report what you knew? You weren’t entirely sure. Despite everything, you still loved Kevin deeply. Even if you could bring yourself to turn him in, who would you even tell? Would they even believe you? Surely Kevin had disposed of that notebook by now. God, you missed him. You missed the way his biceps flexed whenever he wrapped his arms around you. You missed the smell of his shampoo. But most of all, you missed the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. You caught him staring at you in that manner a couple of times at school, but each time you looked at him, he looked away.

You were practically killing yourself with worry, wondering if each day would be the day that Kevin would show up to school and enact his plans. Between that, school, and your part-time job, you didn’t even notice when you missed your period. It wasn’t until the third month that you'd missed your period that realized you something was wrong. You’d been rifling through the medicine cabinet in your fathers bathroom, looking for something to help with the rampant nausea you’d been dealing with. You had knelt down to check under the sink, and there was your unopened box of tampons. “OH SHIT,” you said out loud. You began taking note of all the little changes in your body over the last two months. Nausea, sore breasts, fatigue, and back aches. All things you had blamed on being stressed. But all of that coupled with 3 missed periods…

The room felt like it was closing in on you, but you knew you couldn’t break down. Not before you were 100% sure. So with every last bit of your remaining strength, you pushed yourself off the bathroom floor, grabbed your car keys, and drove to a drug store two towns over. You wanted to be sure you wouldn’t see anyone you knew. You couldn’t risk this getting out before you knew for sure. You decided on the Clearblue digital double pack. That way, you could test again if it came out negative. Just to be sure.

When you got back home, you locked yourself in the bathroom and began reading the instructions. “Why is this so complicated,” you asked out loud? After reading the instructions 3 more times to ensure you had absorbed them, you grabbed one of the paper cups from under the sink and ripped open the foil packaging on both tests. You peed into the paper cup and dipped both tests into it before replacing their caps and setting them face down on the counter. You set a timer on your phone for three minutes, sat down on the side of the tub, and began biting your nails.

“Y/N, are you home sweetheart,” your dad yelled from his bedroom? “Yeah dad, I’m just in the bathroom,” you replied. “Okay, well there’s money on the table for pizza. I have to head in for my night shift. I love you, I’ll see you before you leave for school tomorrow,” your dad said before you heard his footsteps descending the stairs.

The three minutes felt more like three hours, but the alarm finally went off. Mustering all of your courage, you stood up and walked over to the counter. You closed your eyes and flipped over both tests. Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes.

Positive...

And...

Positive...

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you sank down onto the bathroom floor. What the fuck were you going to do? On top of having no idea where you and Kevin even stood with your relationship. Your dad would be so disappointed in you. He worked double shifts 5 days a week, so he could give you every opportunity possible. And you went and threw it all away. How would Kevin even react? Would he want to be involved? Would he tell you to get an abortion? Did he even still love you? Did he ever love you? No matter what he needed to know. After all it was his child too.

You decided to get up early the next morning and go to his house before school. You knew both his parents and his little sister would already be gone for the day. And the last thing you needed was people at school overhearing your conversation.