#was it thirteenth? i think it was it’s been years since i stepped into ons

[aemondfairy]

Renegade

summary: You discover one of Aemond’s biggest secrets and are reminded of the horrors of his past on a night out with your oldest brother, Aegon.

pairing: Implied Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of SA, Aegon is Aegon, mention of incest, angst.

note: This was meant to be a self indulgent drabble! lol, but if y’all like it maybe I can make a smutty part 2? Hehe … feedback is appreciated

With your thirteenth name day came great change. It was a grand celebration: A feast filled with music and dancing, various lords and ladies from throughout the seven kingdoms came to celebrate you and Aemond. Though it also meant you and Aemond being separated from one another. This year your mother had declared you would no longer share chambers. You had started your moonblood and Aemond was becoming a man; sharing a room would be deemed inappropriate. Aemond swore to you that he would come visit you each night.

You had spent the majority of your name day feast simply enjoying Aemond’s company. Nestled in one of the corners of the throne room, sharing lemon cake as you people watched. You tried to get Helaena to dance with you, but she was preoccupied; chasing a moth that had flown in through one of the widows. Your eldest brother, Aegon, was drowning in his cups, bothering any serving girl that came within twenty feet of him. In all truth, you were happy to just soak in the atmosphere with Aemond. Just the two of you, as it was meant to be, as it had always been. Your time with Aemond was interrupted by Ser Criston, asking for your hand in an innocent dance. After your mother’s sworn protector spun you around the room for a third time, you caught your balance. Your eyes locked with Aemond’s as Aegon dragged him from the throne room and into the night.

The hours dragged on as you sat in your new apartments. You anxiously awaited Aemond’s arrival, the last remaining piece of lemon cake and a small figurine of Vhagar you carved for him as a gift sat on your bedside table. When Aemond showed up at your door, the bright eyed boy you had seen just hours before was no longer there. His good eye was red and puffy and his stare was vacant. The cake and wooden dragon soon forgotten.

“What has Aegon done to you?”

Things had changed in the weeks since your father’s death, as well as the events that occurred above Storm’s End. Aemond had grown distant from you. Your time together grew scarce.

It was now a quiet afternoon in the keep when you overheard Aegon and his guards' future plans for the evening.

“You’re going to Flea Bottom tonight,” you say to your brother matter-of-factly, “I wish to accompany you.”

Aegon scoffs at you, furring his brow.

“What would Aemond think of this?”

“Aemond does not control me. He is barely ever around as of late,” you admit sheepishly.

Aegon’s eyes narrowed at this, a sly grin appearing on his face.

“Is that what this is about? Is our dear brother not giving you the attention you need?” He drawled as his fingers ghosted the underside of your breast before you swatted his hand away.

“No,” you lied, “I am simply bored.”

It was not a total lie, you were bored. It seemed as though all of your siblings had important roles to play while you were cast to the side. Forced to be imprisoned in the Red Keep until you were bargained off to marry some Lord for a political alliance.

You enthusiastically followed your brother through the winding streets of Flea Bottom as he led the way to a small tavern. The narrow, dirty streets were packed with all sorts of people; merchants and beggars alike, small children clinging to their mother’s skirts. You watched in amusement as stray cats darted around you.

The smell of ale, smoke, and sweat filled your nostrils as you stepped inside Aegon’s dingy tavern of choice. Clearly no place for a princess and far from what you were used to. You felt yourself naturally gravitate closer to your brother as you took in the appearance of the rough-looking patrons.

Aegon had announced your arrival, offering drinks as a pleasure from the crown. With that he heeded a warning: Any fool of a man who dare look at you the wrong way this evening may face the wrath of Aemond One Eye and a death by dragonfire.

As the hours went on and the wine flowed, you found you were having the time of your life. You drank and danced and sang. You had temporarily forgotten all of your troubles. The war that loomed over your family’s head, the loss of your nephew. You had wished Aemond was there to experience the fun with you. You hoped wherever he was, he was having fun as well. You silently thanked your brother for allowing you this small taste of freedom.

“Come on,” Aegon encouraged the young squire, “there is a madam here somewhere who is perfect for you,” he drawled. “I came here when I was your age, my brother as well…. This madam has a thing for the younger ones.”

You sobered up at Aegon’s words. He was taking the young boy to her. The woman who hurt Aemond. You were unable to protest as Aegon snaked his hand around your waist, pulling you close to him. You felt warmth in your bones as his fingers dug into your flesh.

“Come sister,” Aegon chirped, “this should be entertaining, but stay close to me.”

A curtain was pulled back and to your utter shock and dismay: Aemond was there, suckling at the breast of an older woman like a newborn babe.

You found it difficult to witness but even more difficult to look away. You continued to watch in bewilderment as Aemond tore himself away from the woman. Aegon erupted into a fit of laughter, practically falling over at the sight. You couldn’t blame him, a nervous laugh threatened to escape your own lips.

You managed to turn away, diverting your gaze to the squire boy who was looking on in horror. You covered his eyes with the palm of your hand, earning snickers from Aegon’s guards, you glared at them.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” you hear Aemond grumble to Aegon, clearly referring to you.

“Why would you bring her here?” Aemond questions, yet Aegon is still laughing.

You glance over and meet the gaze of the madam your twin brother sits beside. She studies your face, and a look of guilt is evident on hers. She is the woman from your thirteenth name day, no doubt, she has to be. You are unable to deny she is attractive. Her features are soft, welcoming, motherly. You can almost see her appeal. Suddenly you feel ill, and it is not the wine.

“Aegon! I would like to leave now!” You blurt out in a panic, unsure of where to look or how to even behave.

The king ignores you and instead stumbles onto the bed with Aemond. Taunting him, making crude jokes at his expense, mocking him. Barking like a damn dog.

Any positive thoughts you had about your eldest brother in the hours before were now gone. In an instant, it is as if you are all children again. Aemond is that defenseless little boy in the dragon pit. A mere plaything for Aegon and his cronies.

A never ending cycle, so it seemed.

“Aegon! You have said enough!” you scold him, he ignores you yet again.

If Aemond was embarrassed, he did not show it. You finally avert your gaze to his as he stands up abruptly, fully exposed. He is beautiful in this light. You wish everyone in the room could look at Aemond the way you did. You try and fail to look anywhere but below his waist.

“Your squire is welcome to her,” Aemond states coldly, his face emotionless, “any whore is as good as another.”

You find yourself wincing at his words in disbelief. Aemond was not one to ever disrespect a woman. Especially in the presence of others. In the presence of you. You watch the older woman’s face closely, she has the audacity to look betrayed. You wish you could feed her to your dragon. You are interrupted from your thoughts of her burning flesh when Aemond approaches you.

“Had your fun?” He asks through gritted teeth as he passes you, glaring over his shoulder when he does not receive an answer.

“Come now, we are leaving.”

Aegon snickers, now taking Aemond’s place next to the madam. He shoo’s you out of the room as he pats the bed, motioning for the young squire to sit.

“Would you look at that? A Targaryen princess, jealous of a common whore! Gods, our family is fucked up.”

“You are unlike anyone I have ever met,” you say to your brother. It isn’t a compliment. You want to cry.

“Must you ruin everything for everyone?”

“You’re welcome!” Is all he says as you dart out of the room and after your twin brother.

What Aegon seems to forget is Aemond is no longer that defenseless boy in the dragon pit. He is a man grown, with a vengeance and a thirst for blood. May the Gods take pity on you all.

[madamechrissy]

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - This chapter-Slapping, Blow jobs, rough oral sex, mentions of fluids, swallowing, cunnilingus

ꕥ Word Count- 4,514

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip. You just gotta hope your dad doesn't find out.

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 2

The next day comes, and you can’t get Toji’s smug face out of your head. The way he talked to you, the way he used you, it’s all you can think about. You’re a mess, avoiding him as best you can, because every time you look at his stupidly attractive face, you feel wetness between your thighs.

And the worst part is, you swear he knows.

You’re in the kitchen, washing dishes as your dad walks in, coming to give you a kiss on the cheek. You smile at him.

“Make me lunch kiddo? I gotta run to work for a few hours.” You freeze at that, as Toji isn’t far behind, grinning at you as he descends the stairs.

“Aw, working!?” You pout, and Shiu sighs.

“Just for a few! I tried to take the entire week off.”

“Fine. What ya want?”

“Anything please, I never hardly have you here to spoil me.” You smile, then bend down to grab things out of the fridge. You gasp when you stand back up, and feel Toji’s presence, you look back and see his green eyes were on your ass. You glare.

“Gonna make me some too, doll?” Toji asks, and you snort.

“Nope, only dad.” You stick your tongue out, and your dad laughs, as Toji sticks his tongue back at you.

“She’s so mean, Shiu.”

“She gets that from me.” You start making a stir fry real quick, gathering veggies and leftover rice, then popping in some of the chicken from yesterday, then you make Shiu and dumbass Toji plates.

“Thanks, doll.” Toji comes to ruffle your hair as you hand him his, and you smirk up at him.

“Only cause there’s extra.” He laughs at that, then you all are all sitting down eating together, reminiscing, and it’s honestly nice.

“Oh shit, Mei is coming over tonight.” Shiu says then.

“Really? How’s her crazy ass been?”

“Good I think. You know her. Darling you may not remember her…”

“I do. Real pretty with the braids?” Shiu nods. “She was cool.”

“She was hot.” Shiu said, and you roll your eyes. “Right Toji?”

He nudges Toji, and you expect him to agree, but he shrugs. “Mmm, sure I guess, never really looked at her like that.” You blink a bit in surprise, as his gaze catches yours.

Huh.

“Really? Her tits though- ah shit, sorry kid.” You laugh, taking their plates and turning to the sink.

“Dad you’ve been single forever, I don’t mind if you date.” You hadn’t seen your mom in eight years, one day she just fucked off. Had nothing to do with you all, on your thirteenth birthday actually. Shiu hadn’t really dated since.

“I dunno, seems more like a fuck buddy than a girlfriend.” Toji mutters.

“Either is good.” Shiu and Toji laugh again, and you sigh, annoyed by the over projection of manliness in the room. Eventually, Shiu comes to say goodbye, and you head over to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and getting out of your pajamas. You were the worst about just lounging in them whenever you could.

When you step out, there he is.

“Fuck, you scared me!” You nearly yell, and he’s just smirking, looking down at your little skirt and tank.

“No Hello Kitty today?” You glare up at him, shoving him out of your way, but he stops you. “Talkin to ya doll.”

“I’m ignoring you, old man.” You head down the hall, but then he’s pressing you against the wall, back hitting it hard, then he’s leaning down, serious set to his mouth, lust in his eyes.

“Ya forget about me already doll? When I had you cumming so hard you almost passed out?” You’re bright fucking red, averting your eyes, and he grabs your chin roughly, shoving it up to look at him. “Answer. Now.”

“No, how could I? Fuck…” You’re faced with him, as he runs his tongue along that scar, then his lips, gaze going down to your throat now.

“When I choked that pretty neck, ya forget?”

“No.” Your answer was quieter now.

“And, when I said…”

“Yes, I wanna suck your dick, stupid.” He blinks, taken aback, and you could swear you see some red on his face, but must be the sun, because no way. “No, I haven't forgotten.”

“And… you want me to lick that cunt before or after?” He whispers now, sliding his hand down to find your panties under your skirt. “So fuckin hot f’me.”

“Shut up.” You sigh, though, leaning up and yanking him down, he’s wearing some skin tight white tee, covering nothing, you can see every line of his body, and it makes you wet. “Kiss me, Toji.”

“ Fuck .” He slams his lips on yours, hands all over your body, desperate, like he couldn’t get enough of how you feel. “So fuckin small compared to me.”

You gasp as he grabs your waist. “My tits aren’t small.”

He laughs. “They sure the fuck aren’t.” He slides his huge hands, squishing them, rough, but you love it. “That mouth is big too.”

“Dick.” He picks you up then, slamming you into the wall, and his cock is pressed against your pussy, hot and achy for him, then the door shuts. “ Shit !”

He puts you down quickly, gently though, which surprises you, and then you all separate, luckily hidden up the stairs. You struggle to breathe as Toji walks back down, and he’s up in a few moments, the door shutting. You look at him with eyes wide, heart fucking racing.

“Forgot his work keys.” Toji said, casually, and your hand is on your chest, as you struggle to make sure it doesn’t just fall out.

“Fuck, too close. We’re… we can’t.” You turn then, walking toward your room, and he stops you, hand surrounding your little wrist, and you pause, as his body is hard against your back.

“Sure we can, just gotta be careful.” He kisses down the side of your neck, and you tilt your head, moaning, as he grabs your skirt, gripping it, pressing your ass agaisnt him and moaning. “Perfect fuckin body.”

“No…”

“No? Gotta show ya then, doll?” He whispers, tickling your ear with his hot breath, and you shiver. “Lick every pretty inch?”

“Toji…” You lean your head back, resting on his strong chest, and he reaches around, playing with your breasts again, plucking at the peaks, shooting pleasure down your tummy.

“Ya ready for your next lesson, girl?” You sigh, shaking your head, but he just laughs. “I’ll just eat that pussy again then.”

“Why? What’s in it for you?” He chuckles, sliding a hand to your tummy, pressing in on it.

“Think I didn’t cum eating ya out?” You blink in shock.

“What? How?”

“Easy, ya fuckin taste so good, and hearin’ ya say daddy? Cum so much. I cum alot by the way, hope you can swallow it all.”

You freeze, breasts heaving up and down as he just holds you like that, in the hall, gripping like he fucking owns you. And…

You want him to?

“So, whaddya want, doll?”

“I want to suck you off.” You manage to whine out, and he groans then, spinning you and cupping your face, messy kissing you, tongues battling for dominance for a pathetic moment, until he wins. He picks you up, and takes you to the guest room he’s staying in, shutting the door behind him.

He pushes you on the bed, and slides his grey sweatpants off, leaving him in fucking nothing , since apparently Toji just freeballs, and his thick, long cock smacks on his belly button, fucking huge. You stare at it in shock, blinking for a moment, trying to register it, how could it be that thick? How would you suck it, let alone, how would that fit in you?

Fuck.

“Like what ya see, little girl?” You gulp, struggling to form a coherent word, and then you have him in your hand, hot and thick, stroking up and down, once, twice. He hisses, tensing, and you look up at him, his eyes dark with lust.

“Tell me what to do…” You whisper, and he groans, taking your hand.

“Haven’t… played with one?” He bites the words out, you shake your head, and he exhales. “You’re such a goodie goodie.”

“Then I’ll stop.” You yank your hand back and he glares.

“It’s not a bad thing, doll. It’s just making everything fuckin hotter to me. Being your first.” You tremble, as for a moment he’s affectionate. “Spit on it.”

Never mind.

“What?” He grins, and you remember, oh, it’s Toji.

“Spit on it first, then move your hand up and down.” You sigh, spitting a bit, and he laughs at you. “So dainty.”

“Shut up.” You try again, spreading it, and his cock twitches in your hand, his own hands sliding your shirt up, revealing your breasts.

“Need to look at these pretty tits.” He plays with them, as you stroke him, you look up at him as you move, up and down his shaft. "That's it, doll," He murmurs, his voice low and raspy.

You lean forward, licking the white bead of precum leaking out of his girthy tip, and he sucks in his breath, now his hands are in your hair, pulling, urging you on with his moans. He tastes… good? Fuck. Salty a bit from sweat, but also… yummy… his pre cum is leaking again, so you suck it.

"Show Daddy how much ya want it, pretty girl.” You feel it, your tummy clenching as he strokes your hair, you move up and down, as he guides you down, deeper and deeper. “Want me to fuck this throat, doll?”

You lean back, with a loud pop, trembling. “What if I can’t?”

“If you take too much you’ll tap me three times. Got it?”

“Toji, do you actually use safe signals?”

He glares down at you, tall, imposing, sexy. “Of course I do. Don’t need ya fuckin fainting on me.”

It’s kinda sweet?

Is your bar low for Toji?

“Ready, doll?” You nod, and then you try to relax your throat, as he starts shoving his hard thick cock in your throat, over and over, so thick and deep. You struggle to breathe, adjusting your mouth to fit him. You feel yourself losing breath, falling into it, getting even wetter as you look up at him, seeing that lust in his fucking eyes.

You’re drooling all over his thick cock, breathing through your nose now, and he rams his cock so deep you gag, near throwing up, just as he eases out of you completely, grabbing your cheeks and squishing em. You tremble when he pushes your back on his bed, until your head is dangling off the edge.

“Wanna watch my cock in that pretty lil throat.” He moans, and you’re looking at him upside down, at his thick cock.

“Take your shirt off.” He laughs at that, then he does so, revealing his hard, thick muscular frame.

“Your turn.” He snatches your shirt off you, leaving you in your little pleated skirt, then he runs his hand over your tits again, caressing them. “Remember, tap me if it’s too much.”

You nod, opening your mouth wide eagerly, then he’s fucking your throat, groaning as he watches his cock outlining in your throat. Your eyes are watering, but you do your best, you want to be good for Toji, you want to make him feel good. It’s so fucked, but you can’t lie, you’re so horny right now you’re enjoying him inside you, suffocating you till there’s nothing left.

He’s groaning louder now, and you can feel your panties getting wetter, your pussy clenching around nothing, as he takes you, fucks your mouth over and over, and you realize you’re really enjoying it. You moan around his cock, and his abs flex as he fucks your throat so good, until you’re gagging again, strangled.

“Tight lil throat feels so good, fuck, doll.”

You like it. You like it a lot. Huh…

“Feel so fuckin perfect, such a good girl f’me.”

You’re panting at his words, at his cock wrecking you, and your eyes squeezed shut, his hands are tight in your hair, holding your head down, keeping you in place, as he uses your mouth like it’s your pussy. It’s almost too much, but you keep going, keep taking his cock, and he’s fucking groaning, yanking your skirt up your hips and scrunching it up, bending over you.

He pulls out suddenly, and you’re coughing, holding your throat, it’s on fire now, his thick cock has wrecked it. “Take off the skirt, doll, now.”

“You didn’t cum yet?” You murmur, voice hoarse, he smiles as he helps you sit up, you’re weak as fuck.

“Take it off, girl. Now.” You unzip it with shaky hands. “Panties too.”

You do as he asks, they’re so sticky you gotta peel 'em off, trembling, then he has you back down. “T-Toji… am I doing okay?”

He caresses your face with his big hands, positioning your head back again. “You’re fuckin’ perfect doll.”

You moan under the praise, then he’s fucking your throat again, harder this time, and you feel his cock swell, his grip on your hair tightens, and you know he’s about to cum.

“You’re gonna take it all, aren’t ya, like a good girl?”

You make a strangled moan, jaw aching as you take his cock, tears streaming down your face, and then he’s letting go, spurts of hot cum shooting down your throat now, so much. You swallow, choking and coughing around it, but it’s so hot, he’s filling you up so much. And he keeps going, keeps pushing until he’s empty, bottoming out.

His moans are shaky, when he pulls out, and you’re coughing, choking, gasping for air, and he’s smiling down at you, his cock still out, helping you sit up finally. You look up at him, tears on your face, and he wipes them away gently.

“You alright doll?”

You nod, holding your throat, it hurts like fuck, but… you just swallowed Toji’s cum. And it was so…

“Fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry.” He murmurs, wiping your hot sticky tears, rubbing your sore neck gently. “Such a good girl, took it all f’me.”

“Hurts…” You manage and he sighs, kissing you then, tasting his own cum on you, then he’s grabbing you, your naked body, kissing down the throat he’d just cum inside.

“Did s’good, ma. S’good.” He keeps praising you, and it thrills you, before he’s flipped you, on your tummy, yanking your hips up. “Time for me to make ya feel good, little doll. Earned it.”

He spreads your legs wide, his mouth watering as he stares at your pussy. You're so wet, you can feel it dripping down your thighs, making a mess on the clean sheets. You whine as you grip the sheets under you in tight fists as he strokes his fingers on your slick heat.

“Got this fuckin wet just sucking me off?” He groans out the words, and grabs your ass cheeks, smacking one, then the other, making you gasp, crying out in pleasure.

“Y-yeah.” Is all you manage.

“Gonna be a perfect slut f’me aren’t ya?”

“Perfect slut… for you… yes. Yes .”

Toji Fushiguro leans in, his breath hot against your skin, and you can't help but moan in anticipation. “Such a good girl. Let Daddy taste that sweet little pussy of yours, would ya doll?”

“ Please… ” He smacks your cunt now, and you wiggle, as it stings so fucking good. “ Please, Daddy.”

And then he's there, his tongue sliding over your clit, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh before he’s nipping it, and you scream, burying your face in the bed, the sensation hitting so hard. Then, he’s got your lips spread, and he’s shoving his tongue in so deep, it’s so fucking long you can’t take it, as it pushes it’s way into your tight entrance.

“Ah, fuck! S’good Tojii…” You manage to mumble, and he’s moaning against your cunt, against your sensitive clit, hands gripping the fuck out of your ass, until he’s sliding his tongue up there to your little ass hole now, and you tense, as he’s slathering it too, until he’s back against your cunt, shoving his whole face against you.

You’re struggling to stay on this earth as he’s fingering you, two thick fingers, shoving past your gummy walls and that tight ring, he's groaning as you pulse around them.

“Yeah, girl, fuckin soak me. Tight little perfect cunt.” He’s urging you on with his words, and you’re starting to tense, feeling it hit you. “That’s it, cum f’me, lil perfect slut, aren’t ya? Slut for Toji.”

“Fuck!” You scream now, hips jerking up, cumming all around his fingers and then you just say… “Fuck me, please, please.”

He pauses, easing fingers out of you then, you hear his heavy breaths mixing with yours. “Beggin for me, lil slut?”

“Shut up and fuck me. Do it.” He groans, flipping you on your back then, coming to lay on top of you, chest pressing heavy on your breasts. You grip his shoulders, arching your hips up, he shoves them down. “Thought you wanted to fuck me?”

“Your first time, need to be worked up y’know.” You giggle then, brushing his sweaty dark hair back, and he closes his eyes at it.

“Are you being caring, Toji?” He blinks for a moment, then glares.

“I wouldn’t wanna fuckin hurt you the first time, no. You’re… fuck me… you’re too special you know.” You suck in a breath, and then he sighs, clearly irritated with the turn of the conversation.

“I’m… special?” You asked, eyes wide, this was Toji, right?

Right?

“You’re tiny too, doll. Notice how huge I am?” You nod, rising up again, and you feel him, hard and thick on your thigh. Your hand reaches down to stroke him, and he’s groaning at your gentle tugs.

“So what, tomorrow?” You tease, and he smirks down at you.

“If you’re a good girl f’me. Yeah, tomorrow. But… question.”

“Hmm?”

“Ya on the pill? Because I really wanna cum in that pussy.” You flush, covering your face and letting him go, and he laughs. “I mean, I’ll cum in there anyway, but you ready for a kid?”

“You’re so full of shit! You would not even!”

“You’d be hot as fuck pregnant, doll.” He presses on your tummy, and you hiss. “Can’t wait to feel my cock up here. Oh fuck, horny again, lil slut?”

“Shut up.” You’re gasping then, as he leans up and smacks your face, not hard, but enough to jolt you, and you’re soaking his thigh, shoved between your legs.

“Freak, fuckin liked that?”

“Sure fuckin did. Do it again Daddy .” He moans, smacking your other cheek, and you know he’s being easy. “Why don’t you fuck me already?”

“Should shove this cock in ya, make ya scream. But no, you can wait, slutty fuckin brat.” You glare then, shoving up at him.

“Then don’t!”

“Oh, I will soon.” He’s shoving two fingers in you again, finding that spot that makes you gush, wetness all over his hand. “Baby girl need to cum again?”

You gulp, nodding, and he’s kissing you, brutal, rough, biting your lower lip and shoving his fingers into you, you’re crying out. “Fuck me, please , Toji.”

“Goddammit, demanding brat. Fuck.” He’s at your entrance now, glaring down with those blown out eyes, pupils so dilated, face all red. “I’m tryna be like a gentleman and shit.”

“You just fucked my throat, Toji.” He snorts then, and you laugh too. “Fuck my pussy then.”

“Wanna make you beg more for it. I’ll wait. But…” He strokes against you, thick hot tip up and down, until it’s on your clit, and you’re twitching.

“Fucking tease, Toji. Unh!” He grins down at you.

“So pretty fuckin begging for me, nah you can wait, doll. Fuck, your wet little cunt feels so goddamn good though.” He shuts his eyes, brows lowering, as he groans, stroking your little clit, which is soaked.

“Cumming…. Ugh… fuck me please… ” You’re a whole stupid mess for him, cunt throbbing, soaking his tip.

“Pathetic, fuckin beggin’ like a whore, huh?” You attempt a glare, but then you’re losing it as he continues that friction on your clit, his precum oozing on your tip.

“Fuck you, Old…. man… ah!” He groans, then as you start cumming, he pulls back, stroking his cock in front of you, hunched over, muscles taut, his face screwed in concentration as he looks at your naked body.

“Gonna cum all over that perfect fucking body, filled out so good, didn’t you lil doll?”

Fuck he’s awful.

Fuck he’s hot.

As he jerks himself off he yanks your hand down, shoving your fingers on your own clit, puffy and oversensitive, feeling how sticky and messy you are. You play with yourself, as he plays with his thick cock, moaning over you, and you’re crying out, arching your hips.

“Want it, doll? Me to paint you all over like a lil slut?” You nod, uncaring of whatever the fuck he said, you want it, you want him. “Then cum f’me first.”

“Mmm… fine… unh… Toji!” You’re screaming now, praying your dad wouldn’t just randomly come home, because you were stupid loud, as you cum all over your fingers, and he watches you, hungry, lustful.

“Good girl, good girl.” He cooes, and then he’s moaning, cumming for the second time, so fucking much, cumming all over your wide spread thighs, your glistening pussy, up to your tummy and your belly button.

You lay there, breasts heaving, as he starts spreading the sticky white liquid all over you, like he’s painting you, then he’s shoving two fingers in your mouth, ordering you to swallow more of his cum. You moan, sucking on them, then he’s kissing you, licking your lips, groaning.

“Need me to clean ya, doll?” He murmurs, and you just nod, helpless to him. “Look at you, so eager for it. You’re going to be the best little slut, aren’t ya?”

He’s kissing down your body, confusing you, as you half expected him to like get a washcloth or something? But no. Toji Fushiguro is down between your thighs, licking up the mess there, his own cum, and yours, moaning against your overstimulated little pussy.

“Toji! Fuck!” He groans, shoving his face against you, inhaling you, like he can’t get enough.

“You and me taste so fuckin good together, doll.” He groans, sucking up more of his sticky cum, then he’s back to eating your pussy, and you can’t take it, you grab his hair and try to yank him off.

“Too much, too much! Please… can’t!” He laughs, looking up and licking his lips, his lips and chin are soaked again.

“Gotta work on this stamina if you want this cock to wreck this lil cunt here.” He kisses it, loudly, then starts slurping up more. “Cum on my face again, doll. Let me drink more of ya. Ya taste so good, baby.”

“Toji…” You’re whining now, but you let him start sucking his cum clean off you, while the cum on your tummy he’s spreading around, till your whole body is covered in it, in Toji’s white ropes, as he’s flicking that little clit. He’s sucking on it, moaning, and you start to fall apart again . “Hurts! T’much… Toji!”

“Daddy.” He corrects, biting your clit again, and you gasp, arching your hips up for more of it, more of the ridiculous feelings.

“Daddy! Cumming!” He groans, looking up at you again, hands sliding up to grip your tits, making them sticky too, and your orgasm hits you again. This time you can’t see, when he’s vibrating that clit with his moans, your ears start ringing, and you feel like you’re so dizzy, like you’re gonna fall, clinging to his hair.

He drinks you up, along with the last remnants of his cum, pushing you past your orgasm to another, until you’re delirious, head lolling back, drool pooling, and he pushes you so hard you can’t see. He’s finally easing off when you gush cum all over his face, as he’s lapped you all clean, sliding up you, holding your face.

“That cock drunk face, beautiful.” He whispers, kissing you, and you taste yourself, taste his cum, taste his lips. You’re crying again, you realize, when he swipes them away. “Ya alright doll?”

You nod, shaky, gasping a bit for a breath. “Never… cum… s’much. That was… alot. Fuck.” He grins then, kissing down your jaw.

“Rest up a lil, doll. Your dad and Mei will be busy tonight, and I’m not done with ya just yet.” You shiver at that.

“Gonna fuck me?” He laughs, shaking his head.

“How are you a cock thirsty virgin? This only because of me, huh?” You flush bright red, looking down, then he exhales, tense on top of you, tilting your chin up. “Just f’me doll?”

You nod, shy suddenly, like he hadn’t just been fucking your throat, cumming all over your body, face buried in your cunt. “Yeah, just for you Toji.”

He kisses you, pulling you close, sighing into your mouth. “When I do fuck ya, doll, you’ll never want anyone else.”

“How the fuck will that work? Like…”

He just grins. “Take a nap, doll.”

You sigh, going to get up, but he picks you up, handing you your clothes, you get dressed, shaky, he has to help you. You sigh, standing on wobbly legs, and he laughs as he looks down at you, making you glare.

“Don’t tell me what to do, old man.” You yawn, and he’s laughing now, and for a moment, it’s comfy, when he pulls you against him, wrapping his thick, muscled arms around your little body.

“Be a good girl f’me, get some sleep. Stamina doll.” You sigh, then shove off him, acting like you didn’t wanna stay in his arms. “Oh… one thing.”

You pause at the door, about to walk out, he tilts your chin up. “What is it, old man?”

“Never liked getting my dick sucked like that. Best mouth…” He rubs a fingertip across your lower lip, and your tummy flutters.

Fuck.

“Tightest throat…” He wraps a hand around your neck then, not squeezing, caressing, studying you like a predator.

“Toji…”

“Those moans? So fuckin good.” He presses up, making your chin shove up now, facing him as he bends down.

“Toji… I…” He kisses you again, and you just sigh against his lips.

“Nap, doll. I need to feel you cummin on me soon.”

He smacks your ass, and you’re struggling to walk to your room, so irritated, so horny, so spent, so confused… so…

What the fuck was even happening?

You lay on your bed, wondering how dare he tell you to take a nap, like you’re some little kid? But…

You pass out.

Dreaming of Toji.

Toji’s cock in you, specifically.

Fuck….

Chapter 3

Also on Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57496135/chapters/146421850#workskin

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Teenage Dreams (13 going on 30 AU) - part 3

Eddie Munson x reader

<- previous part Next Part ->

Word Count:1,943

SERIES MASTERLIST

Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

As you walk in, you see his old red and black electric guitar leaned up against the couch. The same guitar he’d always played, the same guitar he’d play when he performed at the school’s talent show, always dreaming of him and his band making a name for themselves, wanting to be something bigger.

“You still play guitar?” 

“Yeah, never stopped, really.” he nods, running a hand through his tangled curls.

“And are Corroded Coffin still together?”

“We never made it big like we dreamed, but the boys and I still play together sometimes, it’s just hard, y’know, we’ve all got lives outside of making music. We still play the odd small gig when we can, though. It’s nice to have that little bit of extra money on hand when days at the garage aren’t as lucrative.” he explains. “Anyway, enough about me, what about you, huh? What are you doing here?”

“Eddie, something really weird is happening to me, and I didn’t know who else to go to.”

“Go on.” he says, giving you the space to explain yourself.

“It’s like, yesterday it was my thirteenth birthday, and now I’m this.” you say, gesturing to yourself. “..and you..I mean look at you, you look so different! Do you see what I’m saying?”

Eddie shakes his head, squinting his eyes at you unsurely.

“Are you high or something? Like have you been smoking weed? Special K? Ecstasy? Are you doing drugs?” 

“What? No. No, not at all!” you quickly reassure him before taking a breath to calm down. “It feels like one moment I was there, in my parents home, sitting in the closet, and now I’m here and I just skipped forward in my life. It’s like a weird dream. I can’t remember anything about being a teenager, or even being in my twenties for that matter, I don’t remember my life at all. You need to help me remember my life, Eddie.”

“You need me to help you? I don’t think I can do that.” he says with a shake of his head.

“Why not?” you ask, the threat of tears beginning to bubble in your eyes. If Eddie couldn’t help, then what hope was there for you? Perhaps you were going to be stuck like this forever.

“I don’t know anything about you, alright? We haven’t seen each other since freshman year of high school.”

“What?” you gasp softly.

“We’re not friends anymore, you grew up and moved on.”

“But you were my best friend, Eddie.”

“But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? ‘Were’. We were kids, but we both grew up and got on with our separate lives. We’re different people now.” 

You take a step back, the room suddenly feeling like it was closing in on you. A tight pain hinges in your chest and your breathing gets quicker. Each breath is more shallow than the last as you fight for air.

“Hey, hey, hey..” Eddie shushes in that reassuring voice. “Here take a seat, I’ll open up a window and get you something to drink.”

You plump back down on the couch, trying your best to let your breathing return to a normal rate, as Eddie comes back into the room to hand you a cool glass of water. You take a few sips, as Eddie speaks up again.

“I think you should go back to your own apartment.” he says softly. “C’mon, I’ll even walk with you if you want.”

“Y’know, it’s not a bad thing, you went off to a big fancy college, we started working different jobs, we just drifted apart.” Eddie said, as he crossed the street with you.

“But what about Christmas? Didn’t you ever think to come see me then? Send a card?”

“I think I saw you through a frosted window of some bar once like six years ago. It looked like you were at some kind of fancy Christmas party. Didn’t think it was my place to suddenly barge back into your life like that.”

You give him a short sigh as a way of a reply.

“Well I guess this is me then.” you say, stopping outside your apartment building.

“Okay then, well it was nice seeing you.” he smiles, giving you a soft one armed hug before pulling away.

“It was nice seeing you too, Eddie.”

“Well, alright then, Bye.” he waves you off with a small two-fingered salute.

“Bye.” you smile as you watch him walk away, although something doesn’t want you to let him leave, and before you know it you’re calling out to him once more. “Hey, Eddie..Do you wanna..maybe, come up to my apartment for a little bit?”

He turns back around at the sound of your voice calling out to him and he once again flashes you that cheeky, boyish smile.

His eyes flick down to his watch, checking the time, before looking back to you. “Okay then, I don’t really have anywhere else to be anyway right now.”

 “Oh look! It’s the most depressing years of my life all compressed down into one handy-dandy school yearbook.” Eddie laughed sarcastically as you spread open the pages to look at all the pictures. Your finger lingering over a picture of you hanging out with Nancy and her clique.

“Oh, yeah, you spent a lot of time with those girls.” Eddie told you, as he looked over your shoulder to see what you were looking at. “At one point, I think you were like their leader or something.”

Your eyes scan over a picture of a much younger Nancy Wheeler, bright eyes and bouncy curls, arms slung around your shoulders to pull you close.

“Oh yeah, last I heard, you and ‘Fancy Nancy’ were still really good friends. I think she works with you, yeah?”

“Yeah, she does, but she just seems so different now, I guess.”

“Botox will do that to you.” Eddie snickers from over your shoulder.

You turn over the yearbook’s page and there you are, in a poofy purple dress, with your hair teased up to the maximum in curly updo and styled with a glittering tiara.

“I was the prom queen! And I went with Steve Harrington?” You giggle when you see Steve standing next to you in the picture, his arm snaking around your waist and a matching purple flower corsage pinned through his suit's button-hole. His gloriously coiffed mane of hair rivalling your own.

“Yup, you two were the King and Queen of Hawkins’ high if I remember correctly.” Eddie huffs.

“I can’t believe it, I got everything I ever wanted.”

“Yeah, you got it all, congratulations.” Eddie mutters under his breath as he walks away from you.

You’re interrupted from flicking through your highschool yearbook photos by your phone ringing.

“Uh, your purse is ringing, I think you might wanna answer it.” Eddie laughs softly pointing to where you had left your bag on the coffee table in his living room.

You fish out your phone from your purse and answer it immediately.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Hi, we were just calling to confirm your limousine pickup for 8.30 this evening?” asks the voice on the other end of the phone line.

Limousine? Suddenly your life just got a whole lot fancier.

“Yes, my limousine pickup, I will be prepared to take my ride at that time.” you agree. “Would you mind telling me where it is that I’m going?”

“ Of course, ma’am. It’s The Palace, on 23 Ivory Street.” comes the response.

“Okay, thank you very much.” and with that you calmly end the call before buzzing with excitement. “I’M GOING TO A PARTY IN A LIMO!!!”

“That’s wonderful, looks like you’re back to your old self now, huh?” Eddie nods. “I should probably get going.”

“You don’t want to go to the party with me?” 

“I doubt it’s going to be my scene, besides I’ve got to get back to work.

“Well if you have a change of heart, and decide you want to come then it’s at The Palace on 23 Ivory street.” you smile at him. “It’s going to be fun.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, y/n.” Eddie nods as he makes his way to your front door to let himself out of your apartment.

“Eddie, wait a minute!” you call out to him, just as he was leaving. “What if this isn’t just a dream? What if what I wished for actually came true?”

He rubs a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Well then, you got everything that you could have ever wanted. Might as well enjoy it.” and with that Eddie makes his way through the door and down the hallway.

“Eddie! See you later, alligator!” you call down the hallway.

He smirks back at you one last time.

“In a while, crocodile.”

Up-beat pop music filters through your apartment as you take your time to get ready for the party, wearing a soft pink satin dressing gown, with your hair set in rollers. Sitting in front of your vanity mirror, you apply a swipe of bright shimmering eye shadow to your eyes, and glossy pink lipstick to your lips, swirling a big powder brush into a peachy blush and dusting it over your cheeks with a bright smile.

You dance your way over to your walk-in closet, your eyes raking over all of the shoes on the shoe rack, looking at all of your clothes, trying to decide which dress is going to be the perfect dress to wear to the party. And then you see it, there on the hanger. The skirts a twirling swish of bright colours, the perfect dress to dance the night away.

You throw the dress on, and pull the rollers from your hair before ruffling it and teasing it into an updo. Bejeweling yourself in all of your favourite pieces of jewellery, a butterfly pendant necklace around your neck and glitzy earrings dangling from your ears. Looking in the mirror to swipe a final layer of lip gloss over your lips, and spritz yourself with a few dabs of fruity perfume you were ready for the party.

You make your way out of your apartment and down the hall, accidentally bumping into a young girl as you totter around in your heels.

“I’m so sorry, I totally didn’t mean to crash into you like that.” you apologise. “I’m y/n, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know.” The young girl answers. “I’m Stacy. We’re neighbours.”

“How old are you Stacy?” 

“I’m thirteen.”

“I’m thirteen..uh I mean.. I used to be thirteen.” you quickly correct yourself.

Stacy rolls her eyes at you.

“Why are you even talking to me anyway, you usually ignore me.” Stacy grumbles.

“Well today’s a new day, things change.” you smile at her. “I like your shoes.” you compliment her. Stacy reminded you a lot of your younger self. Quietly unsure of herself and a little bit shy. You give her a warm smile and a few kind words, because it’s only what you would have wanted someone to do for you when you were in her position.

“I like your dress.” she smiles back.

“Thanks! It’s because I’ve got these amazing boobs to fill it out!” you beam brightly.

Stacy and you share a quiet giggle in the hallway. 

“I like your bag too.” Stacy says.

“You’re more than welcome to drop by anytime, I’ve got a bajillion bags anway, just pick out something you want!”

“Really?!”

“For sure, it could be totally cool!” you give her a quick hug before running off. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a party to get to!”

@paybacksawitch @penguinsandpotterheads @ali-r3n @aphrogeneias @eddiesxangel

@mrsjellymunson @munsonology @onegirlmanytales @xxbimbobunnyxx @nailbatanddungeon @optimisticallygarbage

[fluentmoviequoter]

Heart Set on Amulets

Summary: Dalton meets shy, introverted reader and they become friends. Eventually, he finds out that she's a witch and tells her about his astral projecting. She creates an amulet to help him sleep, and Dalton discovers how nice dreams can be.

Requested Here!

Update (October 2023): Heart Set on Amulets Universe Masterlist

Warnings: canon-typical discussion of the Further, several vague references to Insidious: The Last Key (2018), in-depth discussions of magic and witchcraft (I did my homework for this one lol), Google Translate Latin, fluff. 3.4k+ words.

A/N: All of the witchcraft-related content is from my Supernatural knowledge and the Supernatural wiki page. This was a great request and super fun to write! Let me know what you think and I hope you like it! :)

 

If you could get away with wearing a glamour amulet to look like someone else for your whole life, you would. Or better yet, an invisibility shield. For as long as you can remember, you’ve preferred to fade into the background and avoid everyone. Most people thought you were simply shy, but as you got older, you knew something else was happening inside you.

On your thirteenth birthday, you discovered you were a witch. Vowing never to tell anyone, you embraced what you believe to be your destiny. Wearing black, “witchy” clothes, keeping to yourself, and practicing the mystic arts in the dark allowed you to grow in ways you never imagined. The people closest to you thought you were in a goth or witch phase. When you walked across the stage at your high school graduation, casting spells under your breath, they accepted that it is who you are. Now it’s your turn.

Arriving at college, you continue to keep to yourself. Learning that you are a witch did nothing for your social skills, still preferring to be quiet and as invisible as possible. Managing to secure an on-campus apartment, you have space to practice and develop your powers in your free time and have a quiet place to think and get away from the busy, people-filled life you live beyond your door.

 “Cloaking flame,” you read, flipping through the spell book you have been building on for years. You run your finger along the page, reading the ingredients and effects of the spell. “Black candle, blood, a lit match… conceals caster and causes spontaneous combustion.”

Looking toward your pantry, you consider trying the spell until you hear people talking in the hall outside. You shake your head, thinking that spontaneous combustion probably isn’t the best idea in an apartment. Turning the page, you look at the first of many pages of research you’ve conducted on dreams over the years. Flicking your wrist, you conjure a cup of your favorite drink and take a sip before tapping the sigil and sending your spell book into a pocket dimension for safekeeping. The hallway is silent as you carry your drink to your bedroom, distantly wondering what it feels like to have company in your apartment.

“Dolphin, that’s stupid!” someone yells ahead of you on the sidewalk.

 “Why don’t you yell a little louder, Chris?” the boy you assume is ‘Dolphin’ responds.

“Hey!” The girl turns toward you and beckons someone closer. As you look over your shoulder, she adds, “Yeah, you. Please help me!”

Shaking your head and sending a small smile, you whisper, “Praesidium ab extraneis custodi me a periculo” (Protection from strangers keep me from danger).

You continue walking, fiddling with the amulet around your neck. Years ago, when you became a witch, you visited a psychic who gifted you the charm necklace, encouraging you to put whatever spell or enchantment you desired upon it. The amulet has remained unenchanted since then, waiting for the right moment. Your fingers grip the amulet tighter when someone falls into step beside you.

“Hey, I just wanted to apologize for Chris – my friend that harassed you on the sidewalk earlier… I’m Dalton.” He extends his hand for you to shake, then drops it quickly. “You don’t have to talk to me, I’m usually super introverted but Chris tends to rub people the wrong way at first, so I thought I should apologize. And now I’m rambling.”

“It’s fine,” you whisper, stopping at a split in the sidewalk. “I appreciate the apology, and not trying making me talk.”

“Anytime.” Dalton smiles, and you can’t stop the small smile you send him in return. “I’ll see you around.”

 “Maybe.”

 “Definitely,” Dalton concludes with a wink.

As you watch Dalton walk away, the idea of pathokinesis pops into your head. You shake your head to rid the thought. The last thing someone like you needs is a love spell. It’s not like you could talk to him even if you did manipulate him into thinking he loves you. And, most importantly, you would never mess with someone’s emotions, not with how much trouble you have with your own.

You try to push Dalton out of your mind in class, your mind eventually drifting to a dimensional manipulation spell you were working on the night before. The person beside you asks for a pencil, and you briefly wish you had learned the cloaking flame spell as you silently pass a pencil, letting your eyes watch the pencil to avoid any awkward eye contact.

The last thing you expect is to see Dalton waiting by the door when you exit class, yet here he is.

 “So, I was thinking,” he begins.

 “Scary thought,” you mumble.

Dalton laughs before continuing as he walks beside you, but not close enough to make you uncomfortable. “You’re super easy to talk to, like, I’ve never met someone that I could start a conversation with, but here you are. Granted, you don’t really say anything, so it’s more that I have a conversation with the idea of you? I don’t know. Does that make sense?”

 “Yeah.” You shrug as you look at his shoes. “I don’t talk to anyone though, really, so don’t feel too bad.”

 “You’re talking to me now. After a very long lecture from Chris, which means she yelled at me, I realized that maybe we could try to be friends. If it doesn’t work, we walk away, no harm done. What do you think?”

“Why? I’m the definition of introverted and I’m super weird.”

“Chris likes to say that everyone’s weird.”

Remaining silent, Dalton stops talking and looks straight ahead, allowing you to think for several minutes.

“Hey, where are we going?”

“I’m going to my apartment.”

“You got an apartment? Lucky.”

“Look.” You hold an arm up to stop Dalton, looking in his general direction but failing to make eye contact. “We can try. This is my building, apartment 7. If you need a quiet place to think or work, or just away from your eccentric friend, come over. I’ll try to talk, but I can’t guarantee anything. You’re nice, Dalton, and you deserve friends, but I’m too shy to ever talk this much again.” You rush past him and wait until you are in your apartment before taking a deep breath, sagging against the door. “I just talked to him,” you realize aloud.

After your last class on Friday, just two days after talking to Dalton, you hear a knock on your door. Clutching a black obsidian stone, you raise it behind the door as you open it. Your hand falls to your side as you make unintentional eye contact with Dalton.

“You scared me,” you accuse.

“You said I could come over?”

You nod and open the door, allowing him to come inside. As you close the door, you look around and thank the morning version of you for straightening up before you left.

“Nice place. Do you want me to leave?”

“No, Dalton, you’re good. I’m just jumpy, sorry.”

Dalton loosens his hold on his backpack strap, setting his bag in the corner before looking around. He steps closer to your bookshelf, looking at the books and shelf of black candles. Most of your witch-related belongings are in the cabinets in the kitchen, hidden from sight.

“What’s the stone for?” Dalton points to the obsidian in your hand.

“Oh, it was a gift,” you lie. “Just picked it up when you knocked. No one ever really visits.” The last part was the truth, at least.

“Well, they’re missing out.” Dalton smiles before turning back to the bookshelf.

“You can sit wherever. I assume you came for a reason?”

“I can’t just come to say hi?”

“You can. I don’t know why you would,” you admit with furrowed brows.

Dalton helps himself to your couch, spreading his arms across the back as he smiles at you. You finally realize how long you’ve maintained eye contact and look down, tapping your feet together.

“You’re better company than you think. Let’s break open each other’s shells.”

Dalton is serious, and for the first time in your life, you think that maybe having a friend wouldn’t be so bad. As you and Dalton take turns asking questions about each other, you nearly forget about the pocket dimension holding your spell book and the pantry. For a few minutes, you feel normal. But you have never been normal, and one friend won’t change that.

Hours after the sun has gone down, Dalton gathers his things and heads for your door. You whisper a warding spell as you open the door for him, protecting him from harm as he enters the world. After he leaves and the door is closed, your hand lifts to your amulet while your mind drifts to the cloaking flame and where you could possibly test it.

Saturday morning, you get a text from Dalton – whose name and number he must have put into your phone sometime last night. Warily, you accept his invitation to breakfast. When he knocks on the door, you see Chris at his side, and you realize where your apprehension came from. You’re learning to talk to Dalton, but when you see Chris, you shut down.

 “I’m going to meet you two there,” Chris says suddenly, looking between you and Dalton. She grabs Dalton by the shirt and whispers in his ear, unheard by you, “Don’t mess this up, Dolphin.”

Dalton offers his hand, and you take it slowly, interlacing your fingers with his as you walk. He looks tired, and while you’re not used to caring for the people around you, he makes it seem very easy.

“We don’t have to go to breakfast, Dalton,” you offer.

“I want to.”

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Why do you ask?” Dalton smiles and pulls your hand closer. “Because you kept me out so late last night?”

“No, I just...” you take a breath to stop stuttering and decide to shoot straight. “You look tired.”

“I am, but I’ll get over it. Now, what’s your favorite breakfast food?”

Dalton fills the rest of the walk with conversation, offering easy questions you can answer quickly. He never makes you feel forced to talk; more like he is inviting you to and hanging onto your every word. At the restaurant, Dalton is a buffer between you and Chris. However, you quickly realize that while Chris can be loud and comes across as abrasive, she is actually sweet, and you can see yourself becoming friends with her. Slowly, maybe, but eventually.

Over the next few weeks, you learn the appeal of having friends. Dalton is at your apartment more than his own dorm. Chris has come over several times, and you can talk to her without Dalton around now. While they haven’t said anything, you wonder if they’re curious about the ever-shifting candles or the arrangement of wax on your table. You want to tell them who you really are, but your fear that they’ll leave feels crippling. Losing the only friends you’ve ever had is frightening enough that you’d be willing to stop practicing witchcraft. If that were possible, that is.

Just before fall break, when the leaves are falling, every student is carrying a hot drink, and tickets to go home for Thanksgiving are being purchased, your relationship with Dalton changes forever. It’s nearly midnight when knocking on your door almost breaks your concentration during a spell. Ignoring it, you focus on the scrying spell arranged on your table. With your arms out over the arrangement and your eyes focused on the prism in the center, you repeat the name of the man you are looking for, alternating between the English and Latin versions of his name. The knocking comes again, and you can’t risk losing the progress you’ve made.

“Come in and shut up!” You yell quickly, keeping your eyes on the prism and the name in your mind.

You hear the door open, then very slowly close. As your chanting picks up speed, the prism lights up, drawing you in before everything goes dark. Dropping your arms to the chair in front of you, you lean your weight on it as you catch your breath.

From across the room, Dalton whispers your name. You look up at him, pulling the black shawl from your head to meet his eyes.

“What is going on?” he asks, wide-eyed.

You take a deep breath before standing to your full height. The lights flicker on, the energy you channeled into the prism returning to the wires. Dalton looks between you and the table.

“I can explain.”

Dalton remains silent, pressing his lips together and gesturing for you to continue.

 “Short answer is I’m a witch. The longer answer is that my entire life I’ve felt like I didn’t belong; I could never make friends or talk to people, and I just- something was missing. When I turned thirteen, I found out I was a witch.”

“How?” Dalton interrupts.

“An energy blast,” you admit, pulling on your fingers and hoping Dalton won’t leave. “Shot it straight through my bedroom wall. Covered it up with a story that something fell and hit the wall at a weird angle and that’s why it went all the way through.”

“People believed that?”

“I guess.” You shrug and try to look away from Dalton. “Never said anything else about it.”

“Okay. So, you’ve been a witch since you were thirteen, basically?”

“Yeah.”

Dalton nods, saying something to himself before asking, “What did I just walk in on?”

“A scrying spell. It’s a locator spell, used to find people.”

“And you told me to shut up because?”

“Distraction is one of the biggest weaknesses for witches. Losing one bit of concentration could be the difference between life and death, or it could alter a spell and cause something unexpected to happen. Sorry, though.”

“No, it’s fine.” Dalton walks to the table and stands beside you. “Which part is the most important?’

“All of it, but the prism is vital. It’s what shows me the location of the person I’m looking for.”

“And where are they?”

“Five Keys, New Mexico.”

You look over at Dalton as he examines each piece of your spell, waving in front of the mirrors and looking at the reflections of the crystals. He looks tired, even more so than usual.

“What’s going on, Dalton? You look like you haven’t slept at all.”

“I haven’t,” he admits with a humorless laugh. He looks over to you and clenches his jaw. “I guess you told your secret, I can tell mine.”

You nod and place your hand on his forearm, encouraging him.

“I can astral project. I’m pretty sure it started when I was younger and that the coma my parents told me about wasn’t a coma. It’s gotten really bad recently. The dimension where I go, the Further, is full of souls and demons that are trying to get out. Every time I try to sleep, I end up there and I- I don’t know what to do.”

“I can help.”

Dalton shakes his head. “How?”

“Promise not to freak out?”

Dalton’s eyes widen in anticipation rather than fear this time, and he smiles as he nods. You wave your hand in a circle, flourishing at the bottom to open the pocket dimension in which your spell book resides. Pulling the heavy book onto your table, Dalton watches in awe as you close the dimensional rift behind it. Finding a worn tab near the back, you open the book and begin reading.

“Feel free to share with the class, Professor,” Dalton teases, looking over your shoulder. “Is that Latin?”

“Some of it. Basically, this spell works as a sort of immobilization and a warding spell combination. It doesn’t actually immobilize you, but it keeps your astral body, soul, whichever you prefer, in this dimension. The warding aspect ensures that any portal opened by your gift isn’t usable from the other side.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning nothing in the Further can come through to this dimension.”

“So, it would close the door?” Dalton asks excitedly.

“Not exactly. My understanding of the Further is that there is a door within it, in addition to any route that can be opened to enter or exit it. Basically, the door you’re talking about is to a room within a house. This won’t keep things from using that door, but it stops them before they make it to this world.”

“And the spell helps me sleep?”

“The spell itself, no. I’ll have to enchant something with the spell, then you keep that object with you when you sleep, and it will provide a broader coverage of the spell. Imagine the object having the spell locked within it, on a never-ending loop. Enchanting an object repeats the spell over and over because the spell lives within it.”

“Okay. What kind of object?”

Your hands raise to the amulet on your neck. It has been awaiting its purpose for over half a decade, and it has finally come. You unhook the clasp, pulling the chain from your neck.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” Dalton asks, his hands grabbing yours.

“Enchanting this amulet. Then you can just wear it to sleep.”

“I’ve never seen you without this thing.”

“I haven’t taken it off since I was thirteen. I’ve been waiting for the right time to enchant it, its sole purpose.”

“But it’s yours.”

“And I want to give it to you. Dalton, you’re worth this. Let me do this for you. You are the only reason I feel like I belong here, you’re my only friend, and this is the least I can do for you.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

You nod, and Dalton slowly removes his hands, watching you open your ingredient cabinet and pull a few new candles and a letter opener.

“What’s everything for? Can you talk me through it until you have to concentrate?”

“So, I’ll light the candles as part of the spell, then – this part’s kind of gross – I have to add some blood to the melted wax, then heat the amulet over the flame while I project the spell into it.”

Dalton nods with your explanation, cringing slightly at the mention of blood. You tell him the names and general purposes of the items as you set everything up, then ask him to step back as you begin.

“Corpus, caro et anima, malum annulos, animus nolo depreadandum, maneo. Body, flesh and soul, evil tolls, the soul will not pray, stay,” you begin, chanting as the candle melts. When the black wax begins to pour over the edge, you lift the letter opener and prick your forefinger, ignoring Dalton’s gasp as a drop of blood mixes into the hot liquid. You continue the chant as you hold the amulet over the flame, gaining volume until the amulet is too hot to hold. When you drop the necklace on the table, the candle goes out, and the flame dances in the amulet briefly before everything returns to normal.

“That’s going to take a while to get used to,” Dalton mutters.

“You said that like you’re sticking around.” It’s not a question, but you say it as if it were.

“Where would I go? Find a better friend than the one who pricked her finger to keep me from having what are essentially bad dreams?”

“You and I both know they’re not bad dreams,” you point out as you motion for Dalton to sit down. You put the amulet on, stepping around him to see how it looks. “She told me I’d know when it was time.”

“Who?”

“The psychic who gave me the amulet. I went to see her after I found out I was a witch.”

Dalton nods. “Have you seen her again?”

“No, but I’m planning to visit someone who knew her well.”

“I just have more questions now.”

“I’m going to Five Keys, New Mexico, to talk to a guy called Specs.”

Dalton stands and takes your hands. “Thank you for the amulet, I’m going to go sleep for a very long time. Then I want to hear more about this trip because there is no way you are going by yourself.”

“Did you just invite yourself?” you ask as he picks up his bag and heads for the door.

“What was it you said? That I’m worth it? Well, so are you,” he calls as the door closes.

If Dalton's going to keep looking at you like that, you're going to have to learn the cloaking flame move.

That night, Dalton sleeps peacefully for the first time in years, dreaming of you while you wonder what kind of magic brought Dalton Lambert into your life.

[paulrobinsonshotel]

OK so I've been thinking, if RTD absolutely didn't want to go down the root of having a multi-Doctor/multi-companion extravaganza for the 60th, and wanted to go down a more subtle route using old villains and obscure comics to celebrate the show's history, imagine if instead of making the only real "anniversary" elements of the story be his Doctor and his companion, RTD had done the unthinkable, and asked Jodie and Mandip to stay on.

Obviously, there are multiple reasons why that didn't happen. Ultimately Thirteen and Yaz are Chris Chibnall's characters, and RTD may not have wanted to add to Chibnall's story. I'm also aware that Jodie and Mandip thought Chibnall's departure was the right time for them to go, so this ultimately wasn't down to RTD. But I do think (with Chibnall's blessing) he could've convinced them to come back with a good story.

I'm also aware that Jodie had a baby after filming POTD, and needed time away. However, since returning to acting, she has filmed other shows, including Time, which aired before the 60th specials. So there's no reason filming couldn't have been delayed to accommodate Jodie while still having the episodes ready for November/December 2023.

Imagine the end of Power of the Doctor, the Thirteenth Doctor has her farewell with Yaz, goes to the clifftop and starts regenerating... only to end up with the same face by the end of it? Might not have the same impact on the general public as the Tennant return, but certainly enough to keep fans speculating for a year.

Then at the start of The Star Beast, the TARDIS brings her straight to 2023, where she just happens to bump into Yaz as soon as she steps out, who is still hurting after a year without the Doctor, and shocked she doesn't have a different face.

And imagine hearing Akinola's themes for Thirteen and Yaz in Murray Gold's style when they are reunited!

While I do think Donna's exit was more heartbreaking than Yaz's, I'd argue she got closure of a sort, marrying someone who genuinely loves her for who she is, and getting a winning lottery ticket. It certainly didn't need a fanfiction fix-it of being sorted by "just letting go" ("something a male-presenting Time Lord wouldn't understand" way to shit on your own progressivism Russell)

While the ending Chibnall gave Yaz was an appropriate and bittersweet one for her character, it was written in a way that permitted closure or another writer picking up the character in the future.

I criticise RTD frequently on here, but one thing he absolutely excels at is realistic family drama (the scene where Sylvia isn't sure she's saying the right thing to Rose was probably the best writing in those specials), and integrating that family drama with the magic and silliness of Doctor Who. Not saying Chibnall was bad at this, but it was never really the story he wanted to tell. RTD could've done some great stuff with the Khan family in the 60th specials, with her parents and Sonya supporting her in adjusting to life without the Doctor, and probably delivering some uncomfortable truths to Thirteen(.5) about all the time she froze Yaz out or pushed her away.

I'm not sure how the specials could've played out, but imagine if instead of Fourteen regenerating into Ten's face because he "needed to come home" to Donna (and not every other found family the Doctor had ever had?), we linked it back to Power of the Doctor, and revealed that Thirteen wanting more time (with Yaz), and Yaz not wanting her time with the Doctor to end triggered the Toymaker's interference. Her made her regenerate into the same face, and brought her straight back to Yaz, and to defeat him they have to let the change complete itself.

If they're going hard on marketing Ncuti's era as "Series 1" as if it's a brand new show, then I think having Thirteen and Yaz (the final Doctor and companion of the 2005-2023 Who) both accept that it's time to move on would be the perfect coda for the "NuWho" as a whole. No "bigeneration" fanfiction fuckery, but maybe Thirteen offering Yaz to stay with her for the change this time, and Yaz this time being the one to say no, not because the Doctor is regenerating, but because she's accepted that time with the Doctor has to end sometime.

And then in the closing seconds, we get to see Ncuti's Doctor, taking up the baton (and clothes) from Jodie Whittaker, just as it should be, his Doctor on his own terms, not a side character in the last guy's story.

As I said, I understand why this didn't happen, but honestly, this would've been so much better than what we got.

[atths--twice]

Come With Me

While on the run, after a morning spent slightly at odds, Scully discovers that it’s Mulder’s birthday and sets out to turn the day around.

It’s 10/13! Mulder’s birthday is today! I know there are many ways he could be spending THIS day, but what about a birthday years ago? Back when days blended together and dates became meaningless. How would those days have been celebrated?

Fictober prompt for day 13- Come with me, hurry.

They had been feeling the funk. The way it got when they had been cooped up too long either in one place, or simply from being around one another for long periods of time. 

She loved him, she did, but sometimes the close quarters and the fact that they were each other’s everything became too much. 

They had been at a small cabin for two weeks, a wonderful little place set back at the end of a long road where no one drove as there were no other houses around. It was by a lake and they went out hiking and exploring nearly every day. 

But today… today they had hit that wall. 

Deciding to give him some space, Scully went for a drive, needing to feel she was in motion, even while they were standing still. 

She had no destination in mind and as she drove, her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had not eaten since breakfast. Pulling into the parking lot of a diner, she put her baseball cap on and got out, keeping her head down. 

Sitting in a back booth, she ordered a sandwich and a lemonade. Looking out the window, she saw the lot next door had a carnival set up. She watched as families entered, some of their kids dressed in Halloween costumes. 

“What’s the date today?” she whispered to herself and when the waitress came back, she asked her. 

“Oh, it’s the thirteenth of October. Were you checking out the festival there? It’s our annual Fall Harvest Festival and it’s up until November first. On Halloween, they turn it into the Haunted Fall Harvest Festival, so if you’re into that, you should come back. It’s full of mazes and scary stuff. It’s super fun.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Scully said, a plan forming. “You know what, could I get this sandwich to go? And another one as well. Same sandwich, but without a pickle. And a large iced tea, please.” 

“Sure thing. Be ready in a few minutes.”

__________

She drove down the long road to the cabin, smiling as she took a sip of her lemonade. This plan was just the thing they needed. It would be perfect. 

Leaving the food in the car, she hurried inside and found Mulder on the back porch, staring out at the lake. 

“Hey,” she said, smiling at him and he looked at her in surprise and she understood why, remembering the way she had left. “I know it’s gonna sound crazy, but…” She held her hand out to him and wiggled her fingers. “Come with me.” 

“What?” he asked, now looking confused. 

“Come with me,” she repeated, stepping closer to him. “Hurry.” 

“Scully… what are you-”

“Just come on, let’s go.” She grabbed his hand and pulled at him until he stood up. “Consider it a peace offering. Now come on.” He looked at her skeptically, but did as she asked. 

They rode in relative silence as she drove them to the parking lot of the festival. Parking the car, she looked at him and watched his face as she waited to see what he would think. 

“A carnival?” he asked quietly. 

“A harvest festival,” she said just as quietly. “They have it every year, I’ve been told.” 

“A harvest festival,” he said, nodding as he smiled. 

“Games and rides,” she added. “What do you think?” 

“I think…” He chuckled softly and turned to look at her. “I think it’s just what we needed.” 

“I agree,” she said with a smile. “But wait, it’s more than that. Close your eyes.” He raised his eyebrows in question and then as he had done at the cabin, he did as she asked. 

She reached into the backseat and brought the bag holding their sandwiches and the special item she had inquired after. Taking it from the bag, she opened the packaging and smiled. 

“Hold out your hands, but keep your eyes closed.” 

“Okay,” he said, grinning as he put out his hands. “But if it’s a severed head, I’m gonna be very upset.” 

“It’s not,” she laughed, placing the container in his hands. “And no more Wayne’s World for you. I can’t go through that again.” 

“No way,” he said, scoffing in his best Wayne impression. 

“Way,” she replied, smiling as she stared at him. “Okay, open your eyes.” He did, looking at what he was holding. 

“A cupcake?” he asked. 

“A birthday cupcake,” she said. 

“No shit? It’s my birthday today?” He laughed and nodded, staring at the chocolate cupcake with orange and white frosting. 

“It is,” she said, smiling as he took it out and unwrapped it, taking a large bite. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, nodding as he chewed. “It’s the best cupcake I’ve ever had. Here, have a bite.” 

She leaned forward and he held it as she took a small bite, wanting him to have the majority of it. It was good and she almost wished she had gotten two of them. 

He smiled and when she swallowed her bite, he leaned closer and kissed her. She closed her eyes, a hand on his cheek as they kissed again, the sweetness of the cupcake adding to the sweetness of the kiss. 

“I’m sorry about today,” he whispered, their foreheads pressed together, their sweet breath mingling. “I know I can be… that it can be…” 

“I know,” she said, pulling back to look at him. “And it’s not you. It’s both of us. We’re both to blame at times. This was one of those times. We’ll have more and we’ll get past it.” 

“Yeah,” he whispered and she smiled, kissing him one more time. 

“Come on. Let’s eat and then go play some games. I want to win a big stuffed prize.” 

“You don’t want me to win one for you? Be all chivalrous and shit?” he asked, shoving the rest of the cupcake into his mouth. She raised her eyebrows and laughed. 

“How about I win one for you, it being your birthday and the fact that my aim is better?” she asked, taking off her seatbelt and taking the keys from the ignition.

“We’ll see what happens,” he relented, licking his fingers clean and closing the container. “What sandwiches did you get?” 

________

They ate at a picnic table, laughing and occasionally kissing, the fight and grumpiness from earlier, now in the past. 

He attempted to win her a stuffed dog, but missed as one milk bottle refused to fall, despite his pleading with it. 

“Okay. My turn,” she said, handing the man at the booth five dollars and receiving a bucket of softballs. 

She had every milk bottle down in two throws. 

They both walked away with a prize, Mulder taking her hand and pulling her close, telling her how much it turned him on watching her throwing the balls. 

“I think you just like saying balls,” she whispered and he chuckled, nodding in the affirmative. 

They ate and drank, trying out different fried foods, until Scully groaned and said she could not take anymore. 

They got lost in the large corn maze, relying on the map Scully had thoughtfully grabbed as they entered. 

“I’m glad you grabbed that map. But what if it had been my plan, getting us lost,” he said, grabbing her by the belt loops of her jeans and pulling her close. He took her baseball cap off and she shook her hair free from it. “You are so beautiful. Maybe I wanted a few minutes alone with you here.” 

“Oh my god! This is not the way we came. You totally got us lost!” a woman shouted, walking past them before Scully could reply. She smiled at him as he glanced at the woman. “How could you do this?” 

“It’s a maze, Margot,” the man following her shot back. “It’s meant to be confusing.” 

“To a simpleton maybe,” she shouted over her shoulder. 

“Oh, that’s really nice,” he shouted back as they disappeared from view. 

Mulder turned his attention back to Scully, shaking his head and closing his eyes briefly. 

“Well, that’s-”

“Come on! I’ll beat you!” a little girl yelled, giggling as she ran past them. “You’re so slow!” 

“Mom said not to run. I can’t keep up with you! Wait, Ari!” another little girl called. She was younger than the other girl and she sighed as she paused for a second and then started to run. “Wait for me!” 

“Hurry up slowpoke!” 

“What were you saying about a moment alone?” Scully asked and he laughed as he bent his head to kiss her quickly before putting her hat back on. 

At sunset, they boarded the Ferris wheel, the stuffed prizes they won sitting on Mulder’s right side. Scully laid her head on his shoulder as they began to rise slowly, stopping to let others board. 

“It was a good day,” she said softly and he hummed in reply. He placed his hand on her thigh, drawing patterns upon it, his touch causing her to shiver. 

“Cold?” he asked and she shook her head. 

“No,” she whispered and he chuckled softly, his fingers slowing. She closed her eyes and focused on the patterns he drew, attempting to see if she could decipher them. 

“I’m glad we came out today. We needed this,” he said, the chair rocking slightly as they stopped once again. 

“Hmm,” she hummed, taking her hat off and placing it beside her before combing her fingers through her hair. “We did.” 

“Thank you.” 

“For what?” she asked, raising her head to look at him. 

“Being here, putting up with me.” He shrugged and she smiled. 

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” 

They stared at one another and the sadness of the cost for their seclusion, which always lived so close to the surface, nearly broke free. 

But then the ride began to move in earnest and it startled her. 

“Whoa,” she said, laughing as she clasped the bar in front of them. 

The sunset was breathtaking from the top of the Ferris wheel and they both sighed as they stared at it. 

“Beautiful,” she whispered and he hummed, his fingers tracing on her thigh again. 

She watched as he made a line of hearts, stopping mid thigh and going back towards her knee. Her stomach quivered at the image it conjured up of his tongue in that exact same spot only a few days ago.  

What that man could do with his tongue…

He traced a heart line again, slower this time, and then it changed. Letters now, and she closed her eyes, paying close attention. 

I.. L.. O.. V.. E .. Y.. O.. U 

Another heart and an exclamation mark were added and she smiled. 

On the inside of his arm, she used her nails to trace the same letters adding the number two, a heart, and two exclamation marks. 

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head as they rose to the crest of the Ferris wheel, her eyes opening to watch the setting sun as his fingers began tracing slowly once again. 

[bizarredalek]

Phone Call

Thirteenth Doctor x Reader

Word count: 10,683

Summary: Reader suffers a severe injury and in their final moments they call the Doctor for one final goodbye

Warnings: hurt/comfort, reader gets shot (twice), blood, nightmares

A/N: I’ve had this posted on my ao3 since August lmao I kept forgetting to put it here oop

Call me whenever you need or if you’re ready to come back to the Tardis.

The Doctors voice had been ringing in your head for a few days now. You had asked her to drop you off at home for a bit because you had some errands you needed to do for a few days or so, and she understood. She made sure you had the Tardis phone number – her number, for when you were all set to come back.

‘One more day should be enough,’ you thought.

You were walking back to your house; you had just spent the day with your family. Thankfully, the Doctor put you back in the correct time, so it’s only been a few days since you had last seen them, and not a year or so later – that would have been a disaster. You weren’t sure how long it had been since you started travelling with the Doctor, but you knew you were starting to miss your family, and it was nice seeing them again.

“Home sweet home,” you said to no one in particular as your house came into view, but the words felt empty and wrong on your tongue.

You felt that since being on the Tardis that special blue box had become more your home than the building in front of you. You sighed and trudged up to the front door. When you fished out your keys out of your pocket and put it in the lock, the twist of the key didn’t bring the familiar click of the door unlocking.

The door was already unlocked, and you were positive that you had locked it when you left earlier that day. The door slowly creaked open as you pushed your way inside, sending an uncomfortable chill down your spine. Your first thought was that there was an intruder in your place.

You really hoped you were wrong.

Sneaking your way through the hallways you made sure to grab the first thing you could think of as a weapon, cutting through the kitchen in case you did find someone in your house. Admittedly, it was a frying pan, not the most menacing of weapons, you thought, but if you did find that someone had broken in, you reckoned you could give one hell of a swing on them.

You didn’t have to look very far when you started to hear drawers and things being opened in the living room. You cursed under your breath, it was already too late to turn back now, you were sure if you tried to back out of the house whatever it was that was rummaging around your space would hear you. The thought of calling the Doctor for help briefly crossed your mind, but you shook that thought away. This was probably nothing.

Please be an animal, please be an animal.

You peeked the corner to see it was not in fact an animal, but a kid, maybe a teenager, that was searching around your belongings. In his left hand he held a gun. Your heart stopped in dread thinking that if he caught you he probably wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you, whether it was purposeful or accidental.

‘What to do. What to do,’ you thought.

You considered rushing up behind him and knocking him out, but how could you wack a kid on the head before trying to sneak back out the front door to call for the police. Either option would probably end with you dead in your house. You unconsciously took a step back away from the living room, accidentally knocking your foot into the cabinet. The blood in your face drained, all colour gone. Your heart beat loud in your ears, louder than the rushed footsteps coming at you.

The kid robber rounded the corner and drew his gun on you. You froze. You could see the weapon in his hand tremble, and you guessed that he must’ve been to breaking and entering peoples’ homes. You could probably talk yourself out of harm. You very slowly placed the pan in your hand on the ground by your feet and stood straight with your hands in front of you.

“Listen,” you started to say. “I don’t have a lot of valuables, but you can have whatever you found, alright?”

His arm started to falter and drop, and you let out a huge sigh of relief, but a sudden loud noise from outside startled the both of you. The boy gasped in fright, his finger squeezing the trigger. The loud bang made you jump.

At first you had thought that he missed, and you almost relaxed thinking that you were going to be okay.

Almost

Something wet began to soak through your shirt, and you looked down in horror as your clothing dyed itself red. Your legs trembled under your weight, and you collapsed on the floor.

The action startled the kid again, his attention having been on the direction of the noise. His grasped flinched, your body jerking as another bullet pierced your frame. It was higher this time; the first one hit your stomach and the second just under where your heart was. Both bullets did not go through all the way or cleanly.

You were confused that you weren’t in any pain; was your adrenaline so high that it just blocked it out?

You laid on the floor in shock. You were just shot, you were shot by a kid, and he just panicked and ran to the door. You wanted to stop him, to get him to come back and call for help, but your voice refused to work. You could only let out short breaths, your lungs aching as you did so.

Your shirt was a deep red colour now, nearly covering the whole material, soaked in your blood. Your injuries felt like how you could only describe as a burning fire, and that fire was slowly trying to consume you. Your hands shook violently as you tried to put pressure on the wound, a cry of pain slipping past your lips.

What were you going to do?

Call me whenever you need.

A surge of determination overtook the fire and you forced yourself to get off the floor. You stood on shaking legs and stumbled your way to where your home phone was in the kitchen – a quick pat of your pockets told you your cellphone was missing from you person, either it fell out or it was stolen. Regardless, you didn’t care very much in this moment.

You grabbed a dishcloth to press against the wound against your chest, which was bleeding faster than the other. Pressing with as much pressure as you could muster, you dialed a familiar number that had been on your mind all day. You hoped that the person on the other side would pick up.

“Hello, the Tardis speaking!” the Doctors voice was easily recognizable through the speaker.

You smiled at the sound of her voice. It almost seemed to ease the agonizing pain in your body. You slid down the wall to sit on the floor, the phone still pressed firmly against your ear.

“H-hey, Doctor,” you replied, clearing your throat to hide the tremble wanting to come out.

The Doctor excitedly said your name and you smiled even though she couldn’t see it. “Hey! I wasn’t expecting your call for at least another day. Change in plans?”

You winced, muffling your cry of pain as you pressed harder on you wound. “Ah, not really. I just wanted to catch up with you, ask how your day has been. I just missed you, you know? Haven’t seen you in a while, h-how you been?”

If the Doctor had any idea you were hiding something from her, or that something was wrong, she didn’t show it when she talked. “Oh, you, know, I’m alright. Been here and there and, well, everywhere. Saved the universe, the usual.”

You laughed, a little breathlessly, into the phone. “You always have the craziest adventures don’t you, Doctor?”

She also laughed, a beautiful sound, you wished she’d do it more. “Yeah, well, they’re no fun without you. When are you planning on coming back to the Tardis? I’ve got something fun planned. Imagine; sparkling blue waterfalls that fall from clouds and beaches of the softest sands.”

“Sounds wonderful,” you said almost sadly, a beautiful place that you will never get to see. You looked down to see the blood-soaked cloth and took note that the blood was not slowing down or stopping, the once white material was a deep dark red and poured down your side to form a puddle underneath you. Damnit this is bad. You were getting lightheaded and dizzy. You were glad that you were already sitting down, you didn’t want the Doctor to hear you stumble and fall. Pulling your shirt up to really look at your wound you saw the red angry skin that greeted you. “I was thinking soon. I’ve done all that I needed to do, figured I could use a day to relax, you know?”

“Absolutely!” You wished you could have seen the way her eyes lit up. “Just give me a shout, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you nodded, pulling your shirt back down. It was stupid not to tell the Doctor that you were hurt, dying even, you knew you were, but you didn’t want her to worry about you. You couldn’t do that to her, even though you thought it just as cruel, if not more, that she would most likely find you after you had already passed.

“So, tell me about your latest universe save,” you asked, trying to take your mind off the numbness in your fingers.

And so, the Doctor began her tale, and you clung to every word that she spoke. “Well, it was thousands of years in the future, right, and I went to go visit a planet that I used to go to all the time. Anyway, the place was beautiful, waters as clear as air you can almost see all the way to the bottom, so clear you almost couldn’t even see it, and the air was so fresh, and it smelled like vanilla if you could believe it!”

“Wow,” you whispered. Another place you’ll never get to see.

As you continued to listen to the Doctors story your mind couldn’t help but wander. You started to think about all the amazing adventures you had with the Doctor, how great your life had become after you met her, all those worlds you’ve seen, the lives you saved, seeing the people you’ve learned about in books and school. All the running you did, and, oh man, did you two go far.

Then, you thought about her. You thought about her smile as it lit up the darkest room, her eyes that held the universe in them, and her hearts that held so much kindness.

Tears slowly slipped down your cheeks. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, you couldn’t get any air into your lungs, and you hoped you weren’t wheezing into the Doctors ear, hoping that you didn’t interrupt her story.

The numbness grew from your finger, you could barely feel the phone in your hand, and it travelled up your arms and down your legs. Your arm had begun to shake and tremble, making it difficult to keep the phone up, but you held on, you held on for her.

You knew you were never going to see her again, and you accepted that, but as much as you wanted to tell her what happened to you, how you needed her, you knew it was too late for her to help you now. It was up to the Doctor if she decided if she wanted to time travel to save you before you got shot, but you wouldn’t hold any hate towards her if she decided not to, and you were happy that she was there to pick up the phone.

Your body jerked when the Doctor suddenly called your name in your ear. “You still there? Haven’t gone to sleep on me have you?”

You were confused at what had happened. You didn’t remember closing your eyes. “Y-yeah, I’m here. Sorry, I think I dozed off for a second.”

“Hope my story wasn’t boring you.”

“No!” you told her. “No, as if anything you say could be boring.”

You could feel your heartbeat pick up faster trying to work overtime with the blood it had left over in your body to work with, to keep you alive. This is bad. Please, please hold on a little longer, not yet.

The Doctor hummed through the speaker. “It is getting quite late for you. You should go to bed, and I’ll see you later, yeah?”

No please don’t go.

You looked up at the window and saw that the sky was in fact getting darker, and you wondered how long it’s been since you got home.

“Not yet,” you told her, hiding the hitch in your voice as you shifted. “I want to hear more of your stories.”

“Well, there’s plenty of times for stories when you get back to the Tardis,” she told you.

A single tear slipped down your cheek. “Where’s one place you always wanted to go, Doctor?”

A moment of silence. “I don’t know, when there are so many places to visit it’s hard to pick just one. What about you? Where’s one place you want to go?”

You laughed; eyes transfixed on the red puddle that slowly covered white tile floors. “The place of cloud waterfalls and soft beaches.”

Whatever the Doctor said next fell on deaf ears as you zoned out, and it was getting difficult to keep your eyes open.

“You should go to bed,” was the next thing you heard.

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. “Y-yeah, I-I’ll see you later. Goodbye, Doctor.”

With a goodnight and goodbye of her own you kept the phone to your ear until you heard the familiar click of the call ending. You let your arm drop, the back of your hand landing on the red stained floor underneath you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled tiredly, your body slumping against the counter beside you. “I’m sorry…Doctor.”

Death’s door had opened for you and his skeletal hand reached out to beckon you into his peaceful embrace, an embrace that promised that you wouldn’t feel this pain anymore. You weren’t going to fight it anymore, you held on long enough to say goodbye to the Doctor, your life was filled with adventure after meeting her and you wouldn’t have asked for anything else. You wouldn’t stop the smile that lifted your face, and this time you let your eyes fully close.

The Doctor on the other hand stared at her phone in puzzlement. Her hearts were telling her something was off. Everything screamed at her to go check up on you, even the Tardis whirred her own concern urging her pilot to go. The Doctor, at first, thought she was overreacting, of course everything was fine, you are fine. She didn’t want to be bothersome when it most likely nothing but…then again there was something about your call that didn’t sit well with her.

Something is wrong, something is wrong, something is wrong!

“I know!” the Doctor gave in, already rushing around the console room.

The Tardis had already set a course for your house, and she did not waste any time, not when your life may be on the line. As soon as she landed the Doctor ran out of the Time Machine, the Tardis just barely having enough time to open the doors for her.

The Doctor ran into your house, your front door was wide open which made her hearts drop into her stomach in fear. You never left your door open. Her boots thundered across the hardwood floor of your home as she shouted your name, trying to get you to reply to her. She hoped she was just overreacting and that you’ll come downstairs to greet her asking her what she was doing here, but you didn’t, the house remained still and silent while the Doctors voice echoed through empty halls.

Her voice died in her throat, her feet stopping dead in their tracks. She reached the kitchen, and there she found you. She felt tears in her eyes as she looked at your still body. You were lying limp against the counter beside you, your face was drained of all colour. Seemingly lifeless. Your arm laid across your stomach holding a cloth against you, your other hand holding the phone you used to call her. Your fingers were stained red.

Her hearts ached painfully in her chest when she looked at the large deep red puddle of blood that pooled under your body, and her eyes followed the red trail from the kitchen to the living room where the red had started.

“No, no, no,” the Doctor rushed to your side and pulled you into her arms.

She cradled your head against her and wrapped her arm around your shoulders to support you. She whispered your name a few times, her voice cracking but trying to be strong.

She tapped your leg to get a reaction from you, a noise, a twitch, something, but you didn’t even flinch. The Doctor urgently placed her fingers on your neck and held her breath, hoping for a pulse.

“Please,” she begged. “Please.”

A faint ba-bump under her hand made the Doctor release the breath she had been holding. It was weak and barely there, but she could feel your shallow breathing against her neck, and that was enough for the Doctor to know you were alive.

She scooped the rest of you into her arms, standing slowly and carefully, so she didn’t hurt you more. Your blood stained her clothes while she carried you to the Tardis, but she didn’t care, the only thing that mattered to the Doctor was saving your life. You were the only thing that was on her mind, and she refused to let you go. She ignored the Tardis’s whirrs of concern and worry as she assessed your condition.

The Doctor took you straight to the infirmary room and put you down on the medical bed. She whispered strings of apologies when you whimpered, the movement jostling you. It was the first sound you made since she found you, but you still remained unconscious.

The Doctor made quick work to tear your shirt off of you so she could see your injuries. It wasn’t hard for her to find the bullets wounds in your chest and stomach, both were still bleeding pretty badly, and her hearts ached again.

Why didn’t you tell her? She could have helped you! She banished the thought. She couldn’t be angry. She wouldn’t.

The bullet wounds didn’t have an exit point, and a quick scan confirmed the Doctor’s theory that the bullets were still inside you. She knew that if she was to save you, she’d have to do surgery. She had to stop you from going somewhere she couldn’t follow.

The Doctor left your side to gather her necessary tools and anesthetic. It would keep you sleeping, and hopefully you wouldn’t feel any more pain. You groaned, catching the Doctors attention. She had stepped away too soon, your eyes blinking open.

She was by your side in the blink of your eyes. The Doctor took note of how unfocused they were, your pupils barely dilating when she shined the light of her sonic over them. You had lost a lot of blood.

She placed her hand on your pale cheek, whispering your name. “Can you hear me?”

You blinked again, and the Doctor watched your face scrunch up as you tried to speak. Under different circumstances, she would’ve found the expression cute. “D-Doctor?”

“Hey,” she smiled, moving her hand up to brush your hair back. “How are you feeling?”

“You’re not here,” you said instead.

The Doctor was taken aback. How could you think that she wasn’t there with you? “What do you mean? I’m right here.”

You shook your head, the motion used up a lot of your remaining energy. “No, the Doctor is still in the Tardis far… far away.”

The Doctor knew you wouldn’t believe her no matter how often she told you that she was real. You were so delirious from blood loss it would be hard to convince you. Instead, she brought all her tools to your side and quickly got the anesthesia ready for you.

“What would you tell her if she was here?” the Doctor asked you.

You groaned in pain. “That ‘m sorry. Didn’t … didn’t want ‘er to worry a-about me.” You took in a shaky breath. “I-It hurts.” “I know,” the Doctor shushed you, running her hand through your hair. “I’m going to help you, okay?” The Doctor placed the mask over your mouth and nose. “Take as many deep breathes as you can manage.”

“Just let me go,” you whispered, voice muffled from the mask.

“Absolutely not,” the Doctor said. “Just take a breath and the next time you wake you’ll be better.”

You did as she told, taking in as much air as your lungs would allow. You noticed how you weren’t feeling as much pain as before. The fire that burned your skin was extinguishing, you could barely keep your eyes open.

“I’m scared,” you mumbled, your eyes blinking tiredly at the blonde angel above you.

The Doctor inhaled sharply. Her thumb gently brushing away a tear that you probably weren’t even aware was falling down your cheek.

“It’ll be okay,” she told you, watching as you finally succumbed to a deep long sleep. Hopefully, it was a sleep where you weren’t hurting, where you could forget about your injuries. If only for a moment.

The Doctor kept the mask over your face to keep you under until she was done the operation. She hovered her sonic over your body, finding the exact place where the bullets were. The one in your stomach didn’t appear to have caused any severe internal damages, but the other… the other was buried deep into your chest. It had nicked your heart and would move and damage more of you with every breath you took. She took note of your ever slowing heartbeat. The Doctor moved to grab her tools and she took a deep breath.

“You’ll be okay.”

And she started working. 

~~~ 

Hours went by until the Doctor finally allowed herself to rest when. Your vitals had finally stabilized. You were still unconscious on the bed, looking almost peaceful. If it wasn’t for your cold pale skin and bandage wrapped torso, one would think you were merely sleeping.

There were a few close calls where your heart had stopped, but she was able to bring you back every time. The Doctor watched your chest subtly move up and down with your breaths; her only reassurance that you were still alive, save for the rhythmic beeping that mimicked your heartbeat. Her own hearts clenched and skipped a beat of their own as she took in your old bloody clothes and the two bullets she had removed during surgery.

The Doctor sighed, cleaning the mess before leaving to quickly change her clothes. The blood, your blood, had already dried on her. It made her sick. She hadn’t been there to protect you.

Unable to handle the sight of stained red and brown on light blue, she threw off her coat, making short work of changing into cleaner clothes before she made her way back to your side. She had to be there for you now.

‘You were fine. You are fine.’

The Doctor brought a chair to your bedside and sat down. You weren’t out of the woods yet. The Doctor needed to know you were okay, that she was aware of your condition, make sure it didn’t drastically drop.

She carefully took your limp hand in hers and started to run her thumb over the back of your hand. Whether it was supposed to be a comfort for you or her, she wasn’t sure. “Please be okay,” she whispered.

You didn’t respond, of course you didn’t respond. How could you, you were lost in your body, and it was unknown when you would wake again.

The Doctor sighed and rested her head next to your arm, absentmindedly drawing patterns on the back of your hand. Perhaps she’d allow herself a few moments to rest her eyes. It didn’t take long for the faint beeping behind her to lull her into sleep.

The bed trembled, forcing the Doctors eyes open. She shook herself of her sleep haze and rushed to stand, checking what was wrong. Your body was shaking, jerking in violent motions. Your face was twisted in pain, marred by the blood coming out of the side of your mouth.

Your vitals were high, up to levels the Doctor thought not possible for a human. She tried to do a quick scan of you, but her sonic wasn’t working. She hit it against her palm, but only got a small spark of life before it died again. In a huff, she threw it to the side and tore the bandages off of you.

She froze.

The skin around your wounds were a deep purple and black in colour, it almost seemed to come out of the bullet wounds themselves. The Doctor had never seen anything like this before, it shouldn’t be happening, there should be no reason this was happening to you.

She ran around the infirmary looking for something, anything, to help you, to stop this from spreading further. A long, dull electronic note made her pause. She looked over at you, your body motionless in the bed.

The machine monitoring your heart had flat-lined.

“No, no, no!” the Doctor cried. “Come on!”

She ran over, trying CPR to get your heart beating again, to get you breathing. Why was this happening, this shouldn’t be happening! All this fancy tech and advanced medicines and she was losing you. She couldn’t lose you! What would she do without you? She had so many things she wanted to show you. Stupid, stupid Doctor! She should’ve been there with you; she could’ve stopped this! Her and her useless big brain and she couldn’t save you-

The Doctor jolted upright, and she tumbled out of her chair. Her eyes were cloudy and unfocused. Her hearts drummed loudly in her ears, almost drowning out the electronic beeping of the heartbeat monitor. The Doctors face scrunched up in confusion, why could she hear a heartbeat monitor?

The fog cleared in her mind - your heartbeat monitor! She stood on shaky legs, still half asleep, and looked at the machine. Its steady, monotonous rhythmic beeping calming her. She took a deep breath to slow her hammering hearts.

Her eyes moved from the machine to your still form, just able to see your chest slowly rising and falling with your breathing. The Doctor couldn’t help but reach out to place her hand right over your heart, feeling the weak thumping under her palm. It was small, but it was there, and it was getting better.

“Just a dream,” she said.

The Doctor ran a hand over her face, wiping away the lingering sleep and nightmare, and sighed. The nightmare left her shaken, her hand never leaving its place over your heart, helping calm hers down. She jumped when the Tardis hummed down at her.

“It’s okay,” she assured the Time Machine. “I need to find out what happened.”

With a final check on you she went to the console room. The Doctor pulled down levers and set the date for the same day, but hours before she got the call from you. The Tardis wheezed and trembled when she landed, but before the Doctor could run out the front doors again the monitor lit up.

“What?” the Doctor asked and going back to read it.

The words “Fixed Point” stared back at her and the Doctor felt like she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t stop you from being hurt. Couldn’t stop the pain you were feeling right now.

The Doctor was furious, not at you, never at you. No, she was furious at whoever it was that shot you, so furious she turned away from the monitor and marched out of the Tardis.

She was parked on the other side of the street, tucked away out of sight, but your house was the only thing the Doctor could see. She watched past you stand on your front step and lock the door, before leaving to go visit your family. It was hard for the Doctor to watch you walk down the street, completely unaware of what was waiting for you when you came back.

It was hard too for the Doctor to not go warn you, to tell you not to go home, to do anything to keep you from your fate. But she couldn’t, she couldn’t do anything, and it was the worst pain she had ever felt.

She didn’t know how long it was that she waited there waiting for something to happen, and it wasn’t until that the sun had begun to set that she noticed a boy, he looked to be in his teens, trying to make his way up the steps of your house and fiddle with the lock.

Rage began to build inside the Doctor when she realized that this is who shot you, and she very nearly went to confront him - but she was stopped in place.

Fixed point, fixed point, fixed point.

Her jaw clenched and her feet stayed glued to the concrete below watching the kid sneak into your home. It was maybe an hour or so before she saw you walking back. You seemed less energetic than when she saw you leave, your feet dragging behind you.

You glanced at your house with a look of unfamiliarity in your eye, like you didn’t want to go back in. She watched you walk up the steps, and oh so badly wanted to run over and stop you from going in. When you disappeared inside the house the Doctor waited … And waited … And waited, until-

Bang!

The Doctor trembled in anger. She hated this, but she had to know. Her feet were glued to the ground despite her attempts to lean forward to run in and stop this.

Bang!

The second one. The worst one. All time seemed to have stopped after that second shot. She watched as the shooter ran out of your house in a panic, leaving your front door open, and you inside. The Doctor couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t handle knowing that currently in the past you were laying in your house bleeding and dying and alone.

She forced herself to turn around and go back into the Tardis, where present you was injured and unconscious, but alive. When the Tardis doors shut behind her the Doctor collapsed on the floor, her mind replaying the scene over and over again. It felt like her hearts broke and died with both shots that nearly took you from her. 

~~~ You groaned as your consciousness came back to you. You felt numb, and every movement ached and protested. You tried shifting around to ease the tension in your body, but a pained gasp left you, your back arching in an attempt to get away from the fire that threatened to burn through you.

You didn’t hear the door sliding open, or the heavy footfalls that followed, your ears feeling as if someone had them covered.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed the burning to stop. You scratched at the burning, at the material on you. Get it off, get it off, get it off.

Your hands met something wet, but you didn’t stop. It hurt so much. A call of your name, or what you think was your name, barely broke through the muffled space.

Suddenly, hands grabbed your wrists, moving you away from where you were scratching. You thrashed in their hold, but they remained strong and unmoving. You sobbed as the burn turned into a roaring fire. The hands wrapped around your wrist never loosened, pinning yours to your sides. You squirmed, thrashed, bucked to be released.

“Hey, hey, hey!” a shadow loomed over you, completely blocking the harsh light above you. Blonde hair lightly brushed over your cheek. “Shh, shh, easy!”

Tears streamed down your face, the fire burning worse and worse. “Make it stop!”

“I know,” the shadow said. “I know it hurts, but you’re healing.”

The Doctor moved both your wrists to one of her hands so she could wipe your tears away and check the bandage. You had done some damage to the wrapping, and it had started to stain red.

The Doctor had to remind herself to keep calm. If she wasn’t then you could hurt yourself trying to get away. The Doctor had hoped that you would stay sleeping while the nanobots did their thing healing you.

Normally, the process wouldn’t really hurt, but it could cause some forms of irritation. In your case, since you were literally being stitched together from the inside out, it caused that severe burning.

“Just calm down,” she soothed. “Listen to my voice. You’re okay. I know it hurts right now but I promise that it will pass.”

You whimpered in response, still trying to tug your arms free, but you were too weak to make any real effort.

“I can get you something for the pain, but you can’t claw at it anymore, okay?” She asked.

You gazed up at the shadow again, it felt familiar to you, so you nodded, feeling like you could trust it. The Doctor released your hands, watching you to make sure that you didn’t try to tear at it again, and reached into the drawer nearby to pull out an injector. She showed it to you.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

You nodded almost immediately. Of course, you trusted the Doctor, even if you didn’t know that the shadow person in front of you was the Doctor. “Yes.”

The Doctor nodded and placed the injector to the side of your neck and squeezed. It was something close to nanogenes, but instead of healing you instantly like she wanted, they worked to stitch you up from the inside out, especially so close to your heart to make sure you didn’t unexpectedly go into cardiac arrest.

Your head twitched at the pinch you felt, but when you tried to ask you what it was you, your tiredness took hold. You whined; you didn’t want to sleep again.

“I know,” the Doctor started to say. “You’ll feel better soon.”

With your bandages redone and you softly resting, the Doctors attention drifted down to your hands. Your fingers were red, your blood slowly matting and dry, into your palms. It was no doubt uncomfortable on your skin, and the sight pulled at the Doctors hearts in the most uncomfortable way.

The Doctor grabbed a wet washcloth and carefully cleaned your hands. Her mind drifted away as she did her task. She couldn’t stop the sob that left her, and the cloth dropped to the floor. She brought her head down so she could press your hand to her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m so sorry.”

It was hours until you woke up again, groggy and disoriented. You couldn’t recall where you were and what happened. You felt stiff and groaned when a muscle in your leg pulled when you tried to stretch.

A warmth in your hand drew your attention. Familiar blonde hair and a light blue coat sat in a chair beside you, her hand, occasionally twitching, in yours

“D-Doctor?”

The Doctors head jerked up and met your hazy eyes. You could still feel the effects of the pain medication.

“Hey,” she whispered and gave your hand a squeeze. Her hearts skipped a beat when you gave a weak squeeze in return. “How are you feeling?”

You hummed and your head rolled to the side so you could look at the Doctor. “Am I dead?”

The Doctor shook her head, her eyes holding her uncontained sadness. “Of course not. You’re here on the Tardis with me.”

You frowned at that, trying to pull your thoughts together, but couldn’t think through the fog clouding your mind. Instead, you tried to sit up, but the Doctors hands grabbed your shoulders to gently push you back down on the bed.

“No, no,” she told you. “Don’t try to get up yet, you haven’t healed completely.”

“How am I … here?” you asked.

The Doctor sighed. “How much do you remember? Do you remember calling me?”

You tried to think. You remembered coming home and that someone was in your house and … oh.

A loud bang echoed through your memories and you jumped, suddenly sitting up and backing away from the Doctors hands, nearly falling off the bed. Your hand went to your chest where the second bullet had hit you. You could feel the slight indent under the bandage, and your breath left you.

“I-I-I,” you gasped, struggling to breathe.

“Shh, shh,” the Doctor soothed. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” She gently grabbed your hand and pulled it away from your chest, worried that you might start hurting yourself again, and laced your fingers together.

“T-There was a … g-gun,” you tried to get out.

The Doctor nodded. “You were shot, and you called me after.”

“T-The blood wouldn’t s-stop.”

A squeeze from the Doctors hand. “I knew something wasn’t right and I went to see you. When I found you, you were…” she trailed off, a sad pained look in her eyes. “I brought you back to the Tardis.”

“I didn’t … I’m … I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Doctor, I didn’t…”

You couldn’t get it out. You couldn’t tell her how sorry you were that you were dying and that you wouldn’t tell her, how sorry you were that she had to find you as you were. She probably hates you now, hates that she had to waste her time bringing you back.

The Doctor didn’t say anything, just tugged gently on your hand until you had no choice but to shift closer to her and lean against her side. Your wounds protested with the movement, and you inhaled sharply. You hated this, this feeling of helplessness.

The Doctor carefully wrapped her arm around your shoulder to better support you, her other hand still held yours. You could feel her double heartbeats under you.

“I’m not mad,” she told you.

You looked up from you intertwined hands in shock. Her words confused you. How she knew what you were thinking, and how could she not be mad at you? “H-how?”

“You’re very easy to read,” she told you, running her thumb over your wrist. She could feel your still weak beating heart. “You mean so much to me, I was so scared when I found you.”

You couldn’t stop the tears at her words, you didn’t know which situation would be worse; the Doctor being mad, or the Doctor forgiving you so fast.

“I’m sorry,” you cried into her shoulder.

The Doctor shushed you, whispering gentle nothings in your ear until you calmed. You stayed in the Doctors embrace until your tears dried and both of you were just leaning into each other, taking in each other’s presence. You were still in pain, and the Doctor gave you another injection when she noticed.

“Are you getting tired?” the Doctor asked you.

She noticed that you were starting to nod off against her shoulder after a few hours. She couldn’t help the small smile on her face, her hearts giving a strong thump the longer she looked at you. You were alive!

“Just a little,” you admitted, sighing and relaxing fully into the Doctors body. “I think the pain meds are kicking in again.” “You should get some more sleep,” she told you, and untangled herself to help you lay back down. “Here. Slow, slow.”

You grunted, your wound flaring, and sighed when you head met the soft pillow under you. The Doctor pulled the blanket up over you and told you that she was just going to do some Tardis maintenance and if you needed her to give her a shout. She was just about to leave when you thought of a memory.

Call me whenever you need.

You grabbed the sleeve of her coat. The Doctor paused, turning to see your frightened eyes.

“Stay,” you said before she could ask what was wrong. “Please, stay.”

The Doctor nodded, moving to go sit back in the chair that she had been occupying during your recovery, but another tug of her sleeve stopped her.

“No,” you said again. You moved to the side of the bed, giving another tug. “Here. Please.” The Doctor’s hearts picked up. You wanted her to lay in the same bed as you. “I don’t want-”

“You won’t,” you cut her off.

The Doctor allowed herself to be pulled back towards the bed. She shrugged off her coat, tossing it onto the chair before sliding into the bed. When the Doctor settled under the blanket with you, you shifted and squirmed so you could lay on your side, facing the Doctor without kicking her or hurting yourself more.

“You should lay on your back,” the Doctor started to say. “It would be more comfortable for you.”

“Ever the Doctor,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “I’m okay, I just want to lay like this for a bit.”

The Doctor didn’t say anything after that, and she turned herself over so the both of you were facing each other. It wasn’t until this moment that you saw how tired the Doctor looked. There were dark circles under her eyes, the whites tinted pink. Either from sleep deprivation, crying, or both, you weren’t sure.

You reached your hand out and ran a finger down her cheek. The Doctor closed her eyes under your touch and sighed, and she seemed to fully relax and sag into the pillow.

She took your hand and held it tight - as if afraid that if she let go you would disappear, and brought your clasped hands close. She placed a kiss on the palm of your hand before settling into a restful sleep.

Your face warmed at her actions, the skin on your hand tingled from her kiss. You tried to ignore it and closed your eyes to sleep, held the Doctors just a little bit tighter.

When you woke up the next morning you were surprised to see that the Doctor was still sleeping in your bed. You had honestly expected her to be already up and doing whatever it is that she does, so you guessed that she probably hadn’t been sleeping while you were unconscious. It was a rare sight to see the Doctor sleeping anyway. She was always claiming that Time Lords didn’t need as much sleep as humans, and you wanted to take this in while you still could.

The Doctors eyes opened not long after you woke, and you were mesmerized by the colour. You never really took too much notice of them - you knew what colour they were, but now being as close as you were, you were finally able to see the colours hidden underneath.

They weren’t just hazel. You could really see the mix of green and brown, and, surprisingly, little gold flakes that seemed to dance across her eyes. They almost reminded you of space and stars. You looked away before you would get lost in those colours, your face growing warm.

“Morning,” she said to you. “How are you feeling?”

You lifted your hand to where you knew the entry wound was, only to find it nearly smooth. “Better,” you told her. “It’s still sore, but good.”

“Good.” The Doctor got up from the bed and threw her coat back on. “I don’t want you doing anything to strain yourself. So, no adventures until you are 100%, alright?”

You mock saluted. “Yes ma’am.”

The Doctor took one of your hands, placing the other against the middle of your back, and helped you sit up. “Still okay?” You nodded, taking a sharp inhale when you felt a pinch of pain. When your feet touched the ground you sighed in relief, glad to no longer be laying down, but your joints ached and protested from disuse.

“You want to try standing and walking?”

“Yes please,” you said.

“Okay, just take it slow,” the Doctor told you.

Still with the Doctors help you slowly got to your feet. A sudden wave of dizziness hit you and your eyes blurred over, your knees giving out. Luckily, the Doctor was quick to catch you. Her arms wrapped around you, and she held you close.

“Hey, hey! Are you okay?”

You groaned and pressed your head into her arm to try to stop the pounding headache behind your eyes. “Yes, sorry. Just got dizzy for a minute.”

“You lost quite a bit of blood when … you know, so you’ll most likely have some dizzy spells for a bit. Do you want to try again?”

You blinked rapidly to get rid of the blur and nodded. “Yeah.”

You were suddenly very aware of how close the Doctor was to you - how warm she was. You cleared your throat awkwardly and stood up, with the Doctors help, and only wavered once before getting your footing.

“Good!” the Doctor praised, and you blushed.

“Can you help me to my room?” you asked. “I’d like to change,” you gestured to the hospital gown you had been wearing probably since the Doctor brought you to the infirmary.

“Oh, yes, of course!”

With slow careful steps, and the Tardis’s help of bringing your room closer, you and the Doctor reached your destination. “I’ll just wait out here for you.”

You nodded and shuffled your way inside. Your room was exactly how you left it, and you felt much better in this room than you did in your own house. There was a certain warmth to it that you couldn’t explain.

It would probably be better to wear something lose and easy to slip on, you thought, so you found a large hoodie and sweatpants to wear. You couldn’t help but look in the mirror at the damage. The bandaging was wrapped tightly around you, dried blood spots painted on.

Your face was pale and cold to the touch. You quite honestly looked like death, on the verge of life. You sighed and turned away from the mirror, unable to look at your reflection any longer, and shuffled back over to where the Doctor was. You wondered if she thought the same, that you nearly looked like a walking corpse, and your shoulders sagged at the thought.

“All good?” she asked when you came out. You nodded. “I bet you’re hungry,” she continued. “Let’s get you something.”

The rest of the day went by uneventfully. You were starting to feel stronger, and didn’t have many more dizzy spells. You could even walk without dragging your feet. Sometimes though, if you breathed too hard you would double over into a coughing fit, sharp pain attacking you.

The Doctor remained by your side the entire time, always there to catch you, to help you get your strength back. When you grew tired the Doctor allowed you go to sleep in your own bed, which you nearly cheered in joy for. You longed for your own comfortable mattress and not the thin stiff bed in the infirmary. Your back would thank you.

It almost felt weird though; sleeping in your own bed after however long it was that you stayed in the infirmary. When the Doctor walked you back to your room, she removed your bandage to see your progress, and you were surprised to see it completely healed. Only a faint scar remained, even though it had been just a few days since the incident.

“The scar will disappear soon,” the Doctor told you. “Then it’ll be like it never happened.”

“But it did,” you said.

The Doctors eyes turned sad, and she placed her hand on the side of your head, her thumb running over your temple. “The mind heals at a different pace. Try to fix it too fast and it crumples, but we’ll get through it, yeah?”

After that you and the Doctor hung around the Tardis for the day, she didn’t want to take you somewhere potentially dangerous and have something happen to you again, so you spent the day reading in the library or going to the surprise garden filled with many different kinds of flowers, both human and alien alike. They were beautiful and you made a note to come back to this spot, you found that there was something soothing about the garden.

When you noticed the “sun” starting to dim you made the walk to your room, saying goodnight to the Doctor with a yawn as you passed. Now, here you were. You laid on your back, staring up at the dark ceiling, and were wide awake. Your chest began to ache, your mind wandering to the incident. You rubbed your hand where the bullet once was.

Phantom pain you think it was called.

You scowled and threw the blanket over to try to go to sleep, you didn’t want to think about it anymore

That didn’t stop you dreaming it, however.

You were back in your house. The shooter held you at gunpoint, but it was different. He was more aggressive than you remembered, or maybe it was always like this.

“Please don’t,” you begged.

He didn’t say anything, just pulled the trigger. That familiar burn coursed in your chest. You fell to your knees gasping. Looking down, you watched your blood dye your shirt that terrible red colour. The shooter was now standing above you, his gun aimed right at your head. He never spoke before, that much you remembered, but when he opened his mouth to speak, icy cold fear ran through your veins.

“No one to save you now.”

He pulled the trigger.

You awoke with a scream, only seeing that terrible nightmare. Your chest tightened painfully, and you gasped for breath. Your door opened, but you didn’t notice it, barely feeling as the mattress dipped beside you.

“Hey, hey,” hands cupped your face. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”

You struggled to get your breath back, instead trying to focus on something, anything, to make you forget your dream. Looking up through your tears, you saw the blurry shape of the Doctor, her thumbs wiping at your cheeks.

“You’re okay,” she said, her voice soft. “Just breathe, ready? In,” you tried your best to inhale along with the Doctor, but only managed broken sobs. “And out.”

It took a few times, and you weren’t sure how long it had been or what time it was. By the end you were finally able to calm down enough to breathe with the Doctor, only hiccupping every once in a while.

“Sorry,” you apologized, your voice weak as you pulled away from the Doctors hands. You already missed the contact. “Sorry if I woke you.”

The Doctor’s hands slowly dropped into her lap. “It’s okay, I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

She wouldn’t admit why she wasn’t sleeping, wouldn’t tell you that she couldn’t after her own nightmare the day before.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You looked up at her eyes, yours flickering between them. Your breath threatened to leave you again.

“How do I know…” you trailed off, now sounding unsure.

The Doctor tilted her head. “How do you know what? I can’t answer if I don’t know.”

You were quiet for a moment, then asked in a quiet voice. “How do I know that I’m not really dead?”

She didn’t reply after that. Maybe she didn’t know the answer, maybe you did die, and this was your afterlife. It wasn’t a bad one, you had to admit, to be stuck on the Tardis with the Doctor. You jumped when the Doctors hands cupped your face again, but this time she leaned in, and you sighed when the Doctors lips pressed lightly against yours.

“How did that prove anything?” you teased when you parted from the Doctor.

She laughed and leaned forward so your foreheads were touching. “Guess you’ll have to just take my word for it.”

You hummed. “Well, dead or alive, this isn’t a bad place to be.”

“Come with me,” the Doctor suddenly said pulling away and standing up from the bed, her hand outstretched for you to grab. You grabbed her hand and she pulled out from the bed and out of your room. The floor of the Tardis was cold under your feet as you followed the Doctor down the halls, but you didn’t mind. She led you to the front doors of the Tardis and opened them. The stars shone in the distance.

“Figured you’d like to take your mind off everything,” she told you.

She pulled you to sit down beside her and you both sat with your legs swinging out of the Tardis.

“I think this is the one view I’ll never get tired of,” you admitted, a smiling lifting on your face.

The Doctor hummed in agreement, but she wasn’t looking outside like you were, her eyes were on you. She watched as the various blues and purples lit up your face and brightened your eyes. It took the Doctors breath away. Neither of you were sure how long the both of you stayed there, but you didn’t really care very much. You simply enjoyed the view and the company the Doctor provided.

“Thank you,” you said.

“For what?” she asked.

“For helping me,” you replied turning your attention to look at her. “For saving me. For just being you.”

“Of course,” the Doctor smiled.

You stayed out there for a little bit longer until you had to try to hide a yawn.

“Let’s get you back to bed, yeah?” the Doctor suggested.

You groaned and took the Doctors hand again so she could help you stand up. Your fingers interlaced and you walked side by side until you found yourself sitting on your bed again. The Doctor was about to leave when you called her name making her pause by the door.

“Can you stay with me again?” you asked her.

The Doctor was surprised. You wanted her to stay the night with you again?

“I just…” you started to fidget with your blanket. “You … you make me feel … safe. You help me forget, if it’s only for a moment, chasing away the bad memories.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

And like the night before, the Doctor shrugged off her coat, slipped off her boots, and crawled under the covers. You had already moved to the other side of the bed, giving her more room, and you laid on your side like you did before to just look at the Doctor.

“What is it?” she asked, laying down to mirror you.

You shook you head. “It’s nothing.”

“We’ll get you through this, okay?”

You nodded, although part of you wasn’t so sure.

“The nightmares are just a bump in the road, they won’t be there forever,” she continued to say.

“And if they are?”

The Doctor reached over to brush your hair behind your ear. “Then you’ll learn to overcome them.”

You grabbed the Doctors hand and, much like she had the night before, pressed a kiss to her hand and nestling closer to her, your head tucked under her chin and her arms held you close promising to protect you from any nightmares that came to haunt you.

“Goodnight, Doctor,” you said softly.

“Goodnight,” she whispered. 

~~~ 

“You cleaned.”

You had asked the Doctor to take you back to your house, back to where you were hurt. She insisted on coming with you this time and you agreed, you wouldn’t be able to go back inside by yourself.

“I couldn’t leave it how it was,” the Doctor replied.

You wandered into the room where you first found the shooter, the room had been absolutely destroyed; drawers flung open, items thrown across the floor, but you were shocked to see it was like nothing ever happened. Even the blood seemed to disappear. Your chest tightened when you remembered how much blood was on the floor, the red trail and the puddle that sat underneath you. So much red. You could still feel the phantom pain of the bullets hitting you, burning you, consuming you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

You vision was blocked by light blue and all you could feel, hear, and smell was the Doctor. You grasped the Doctors coat in a tight shaking fist.

“Sorry,” you spoke into her shirt.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Do you want to go outside?”

You nodded and let yourself be guided outside, near the comforting presence of the Tardis.

“I can’t…” you started to say.

“You don’t have to,” the Doctor told you.

“Can I just … Can I stay on the Tardis with you? I don’t think I can go back to that house yet,” you asked, a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Of course,” she assured you. “I told you that we’d get through this together, and if you don’t feel safe in your house right now then we’ll try again when you feel ready, yeah?”

You nodded, tearing up. “Thank you.”

“Of course, love.” 

~~~ 

It took a few weeks. You spent the entire time on the Tardis with the Doctor, spending time with her and going on very small trips. Alien hot springs, festivals - very small fun things, and you loved every bit of it. You couldn’t help but tease the Doctor on how she actually could find things to take you to that didn’t involve running for your life.

“It’s not all me,” she would protest, almost offended at what you were saying. “It’s the Tardis! She just ignores what I want to do!”

“Sure, Doctor,” you laughed. “Sure.”

Nearly a month later, you told the Doctor you wanted to go back to Earth. You wanted to see your family again, and the Doctor felt slightly reluctant to let you go. She knew that you would eventually want to go back.

“I just want to spend the day with them,” you told her.

When the doors closed behind you the Doctor was suddenly very aware of how empty, and how big the Tardis actually was. She felt very … alone. The Tardis hummed down at her Pilot, reassuring her that you would be back.

“I know,” the Doctor said to the empty space.

The Doctor decided to do some console “repairs,” keeping herself occupied, even though she knew they were completely unnecessary. She laid underneath the console, pulling out wires and leaving a huge mess on the floor.

She continued this for a few hours, pausing when her phone started ringing on top of the console. The Doctor’s mind went back to the incident. She hesitated to pick it up, almost fearing for what was waiting for her on the other side. She slid from underneath the console, wiping the grease from her hands, and picked up her phone. She took a deep breath, answered in the middle of the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Doctor,” your voice greeted her.

“This better not be another goodbye call,” she threatened.

You laughed through the speaker. “Definitely not dying this time, I promise.”

“Good, great even! Because once was enough.”

You smiled even though you knew that the Doctor couldn’t see you. “I’m just letting you know that I’m on my way back.” The Doctor pulled the phone away from her ear to see that it was well into the evening, the entire day had passed. She put the phone back to her ear, looking at the mess she created. Wires and tools littered the ground, and she could have sworn she heard the Tardis laugh at her predicament.

“Fantastic! Wonderful! I’ll, uh, I’ll see you soon,” she trailed off in thought. How was she going to clean all this up?

“You’ve made a mess of the Tardis, haven’t you?”

“No, of course not!” she defended.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “You’d think a time travel spaceship would be able to repair herself if she needed to.”

Before the Doctor could reply the Tardis whirred and beeped an “I told you so!”

“Hey, no!” she told the machine. “Don’t take their side!”

You laughed at the argument. “Well, I’ll see you soon. Bye!”

The Doctor pocketed the phone after she gave her own bye. She glared at the time machine, who beeped innocently. “Don’t even start.” She warned. “Just help me put you back together.”

It didn’t take you very long to get back to that familiar blue box, feeling more at home the closer you got.

“Hey, girl,” you greeted. “Hope that Doctor wasn’t too much trouble.”

The Tardis opened the door for you in a “come on in and see.” You walked in, your jaw falling at the sight you saw. Wires and cables littered the floor. The Doctor sat in the middle of it, struggling to pull it all back.

“What did you do?” you laughed.

The Doctor jumped at your voice, dropping all that she had in her arms. “Oh! Me? Nothing! Well, I was doing some small repair and I tried to clean it all up, but someone…” She glared at the console. “Decided to be difficult.”

The Tardis let out a series of irritated beeps and a panel on the wall behind the Doctor suddenly dropped to the ground.

“Oi!!”

You couldn’t stop your laughter. You tried to hide it behind your hand, but the Doctor heard you and threw you a glare as well. There was no real irritation or anger behind it, but still, you cleared your throat and held your hands up to show you weren’t laughing at her. You were barely able to keep your smile down.

“Sorry,” you said. “Please, continue your little fight with the Tardis.”

The Doctor groaned, gathering the cables back into her arms and dragging it over.

“You want some help?” you offered.

“No, I’m fine” she dismissed.

“You sure?” you asked again, voice filled with amusement.

Before she could answer, the Doctor stepped on a tool. Her balance faltered, and the wires fell from her grasp. “Alright, fine.” Your smile grew as you walked up the steps to the console before running a hand over it.

You spoke to the Tardis. “Can you put yourself back together for us, girl?”

You received a warm hum in return as the console room started to fix itself. The panel that fell returned to its spot on the wall, the wires reattached themselves, and the cables snaked back under the console. The room looked as good as new.

“It pays to be the Tardis’s favourite, I think,” you winked at the wide-eyed Doctor.

The Doctor shook herself. “You’re not supposed to pick favourites!” she scolded the Tardis.

You laughed again and watched the Doctor move up to the console, turning her back to you and twisting her coat around her.

“So,” she clapped her hands together. “Where would you like to go today?”

Where would you like to go? A memory came to you, words of place you never thought you would be able to see. You smiled at her. “Soft beaches and waterfall clouds.”

The Doctor smiled back at you, her expression understanding. “Soft beaches it is!” You watched fondly as the Doctor moved about the console, flipping switches and levers until she stopped by the main lever and looked over at you.

“Together?” she gestured her to lever.

You grinned and ran up beside the Doctor, placing your hand on top of hers. “Together.”

[scarletify]

Hello! I have I have an update about the state of my comic going into 2024. If you enjoy my comic, thank you so much 💖

More under the cut!

Hello! The year is coming to an end, and as I tend to do at times like this, I find myself looking back on what this year was for me.

It's no secret that this has been one of the worst years for the comic in a long time, and it's not something I'm particularly proud of. It's also no secret that the comic slowing to a crawl is something that has been weighing on me greatly. It's something I feel a lot of regret and guilt over, and though I've said it many times this year, I still think it's important to say again. I'm very sorry that I've been unable to keep up with my comic. 

Next month the comic will be reaching its thirteenth anniversary. It's been a long road, and the comic's state through the years has directly reflected my own. When the comic is doing well, I am doing well. When it's not, I am not. I feel this is reflected in both the speed of updates and the quality of the art. 

This story is something I've put my heart into, and I want nothing more than to see it through. So, needless to say, the poor output of the comic this year has been a direct result of my own struggles. It's been a very hard year for me, a year I've struggled to stay afloat, and a year I've tried to find myself and who I want to be. 

I apologize if this comes off as too dramatic, but I can't help but think about these sort of things at times like this. Thirteen years... that's such a long time. I think I just hope to be understood. No one is more disappointed about the current state of the comic than me.

That said, I don't mean for this to be a sad post. On the contrary, I want it to be an uplifting one. 2023 was a year of struggles for me. A year of soul searching. A year of trying to find meaning. The answer I found was this. I love my comic. I love what I do. I love the people who enjoy my work. I love to share my work with you all, and I don't want to stop. 2023 was a year of struggles, so I'm going to make 2024 a year I can thrive again.

That's what I hope the takeaway of this post will be. I have been unwell, but I'm still determined to keep going. And I'm going to be trying harder than ever to find myself again this upcoming year. 

That said, I know that's easier said than done. I don't expect the comic to catch up to speed again overnight. But I'm ready to take those steps. Starting tomorrow, public updates will be resuming. Updates will continue to come first on my Patreon. My goal is to finish at least one page a week. Over time I hope to make that number even bigger. I hope to ease my way into more frequent updates again. These are goals, not promises, but ones I'm going to be trying as hard as I can to meet. 

You know what's been really hard? This scene we're on right now is a scene I've been looking forward to since the comic began. We're on the cusp of some big character moments, and it's driving me wild that we've been so close yet so far for so long. I'm excited about what's about to happen, and I truly hope you enjoy what's to come. 

Earlier this year I mentioned wanting to change the story medium at some point. This is something I still intend to do, but it won't be happening in the near future. At the very least I plan to finish chapter 6 as it is. Honestly, I really want chapter 7 to continue the comic format as well. Whether or not chapter 7 will be a comic however, I do intend to switch formats once the lycan arc is over. I truly believe this will be a good thing, and it will make finishing the story a lot more realistic. I'm excited for it when it comes, but I don't anticipate it coming just yet.

Also, I spoke before about issues with the hosting for my comic's website. This is something I've been working on behind the scenes, and I have good news in that regard! This issue has been resolved. Thanks to the help of a very kind friend, my website has new hosting and can continue running for the foreseeable future. I'm very relieved and very grateful that things turned out this way. That's one less thing to weigh down my mind.

Once again, thank you so much for all the support you've given me. Thank you for enjoying my work. Thank you for sticking by me for so long. Thank you for giving me a chance even as I've struggled. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for everything. Here's to a better 2024! ♥

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

6th July >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Saturday, Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time 

or

Saint Maria Goretti, Virgin, Martyr 

or

Saint Moninne, Virgin 

or

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary. 

Saturday, Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time 

(Liturgical Colour: Green. Year: B(II))

First Reading Amos 9:11-15 I will restore the fortunes of my people Israel.

It is the Lord who speaks:

‘That day I will re-erect the tottering hut of David, make good the gaps in it, restore its ruins and rebuild it as it was in the days of old, so that they can conquer the remnant of Edom and all the nations that belonged to me.’

It is the Lord who speaks, and he will carry this out.

‘The days are coming now – it is the Lord who speaks – when harvest will follow directly after ploughing, the treading of grapes soon after sowing, when the mountains will run with new wine and the hills all flow with it. I mean to restore the fortunes of my people Israel; they will rebuild the ruined cities and live in them, plant vineyards and drink their wine, dig gardens and eat their produce. I will plant them in their own country, never to be rooted up again out of the land I have given them, says the Lord, your God.’

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 84(85): 9,11-14

R/ The Lord speaks peace to his people.

I will hear what the Lord God has to say, a voice that speaks of peace, peace for his people and his friends and those who turn to him in their hearts.

R/ The Lord speaks peace to his people.

Mercy and faithfulness have met; justice and peace have embraced. Faithfulness shall spring from the earth and justice look down from heaven.

R/ The Lord speaks peace to his people.

The Lord will make us prosper and our earth shall yield its fruit. Justice shall march before him and peace shall follow his steps.

R/ The Lord speaks peace to his people.

Gospel Acclamation Psalm 118:135

Alleluia, alleluia! Let your face shine on your servant, and teach me your decrees. Alleluia!

Or: John 10:27

Alleluia, alleluia! The sheep that belong to me listen to my voice, says the Lord, I know them and they follow me. Alleluia!

Gospel Matthew 9:14-17 When the bridegroom is taken from them, then they will fast.

John’s disciples came to him and said, ‘Why is it that we and the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not?’ Jesus replied, ‘Surely the bridegroom’s attendants would never think of mourning as long as the bridegroom is still with them? But the time will come for the bridegroom to be taken away from them, and then they will fast. No one puts a piece of unshrunken cloth on to an old cloak, because the patch pulls away from the cloak and the tear gets worse. Nor do people put new wine into old wineskins; if they do, the skins burst, the wine runs out, and the skins are lost. No; they put new wine into fresh skins and both are preserved.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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

Saint Maria Goretti, Virgin, Martyr 

(Liturgical Colour: Red. Year: B(II))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading 1 Corinthians 6:13-15,17-20 Do not sin against your own body.

The body is not meant for fornication: it is for the Lord, and the Lord for the body. God, who raised the Lord from the dead, will by his power raise us up too. You know, surely, that your bodies are members making up the body of Christ; do you think I can take parts of Christ’s body and join them to the body of a prostitute? Never! But anyone who is joined to the Lord is one spirit with him. Keep away from fornication. All the other sins are committed outside the body; but to fornicate is to sin against your own body. Your body, you know, is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you since you received him from God. You are not your own property; you have been bought and paid for. That is why you should use your body for the glory of God.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 30(31):3-6,8,16-17

R/ Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

Be a rock of refuge for me, a mighty stronghold to save me, for you are my rock, my stronghold. For your name’s sake, lead me and guide me.

R/ Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

Into your hands I commend my spirit. It is you who will redeem me, Lord. As for me, I trust in the Lord: let me be glad and rejoice in your love.

R/ Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

My life is in your hands, deliver me from the hands of those who hate me. Let your face shine on your servant. Save me in your love.

R/ Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

Gospel Acclamation James 1:12

Alleluia, alleluia! Happy the man who stands firm, for he has proved himself, and will win the crown of life. Alleluia!

Gospel John 12:24-26 If a grain of wheat falls on the ground and dies, it yields a rich harvest.

Jesus said to his disciples:

‘I tell you, most solemnly, unless a wheat grain falls on the ground and dies, it remains only a single grain; but if it dies, it yields a rich harvest. Anyone who loves his life loses it; anyone who hates his life in this world will keep it for the eternal life. If a man serves me, he must follow me, wherever I am, my servant will be there too. If anyone serves me, my Father will honour him.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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

Saint Moninne, Virgin 

(Liturgical Colour: White. Year: B(II))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

Either:

First Reading Song of Songs 8:6-7 The flash of love is a flame of the Lord himself.

Set me like a seal on your heart, like a seal on your arm. For love is strong as Death, jealousy as relentless as Sheol. The flash of it is a flash of fire, a flame of the Lord himself. Love no floods can quench, no torrents drown.

Were a man to offer all the wealth of his house to buy love, contempt is all he would purchase.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Or:

First Reading Hosea 2:16,17,21-22 I will betroth you to myself for ever.

The Lord says this:

I am going to lead her out into the wilderness and speak to her heart. There she will respond to me as she did when she was young, as she did when she came out of the land of Egypt. I will betroth you to myself for ever, betroth you with integrity and justice, with tenderness and love; I will betroth you to myself with faithfulness, and you will come to know the Lord.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 44(45):11-12,14-17

R/ Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words. or R/ The bridegroom is here! Go out and meet Christ the Lord.

Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words: forget your own people and your father’s house. So will the king desire your beauty: He is your lord, pay homage to him.

R/ Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words. or R/ The bridegroom is here! Go out and meet Christ the Lord.

The daughter of the king is clothed with splendour, her robes embroidered with pearls set in gold. She is led to the king with her maiden companions.

R/ Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words. or R/ The bridegroom is here! Go out and meet Christ the Lord.

They are escorted amid gladness and joy; they pass within the palace of the king. Sons shall be yours in place of your fathers: you will make them princes over all the earth.

R/ Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words. or R/ The bridegroom is here! Go out and meet Christ the Lord.

Gospel Acclamation John 14:23

Alleluia, alleluia! If anyone loves me he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we shall come to him. Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia! This is the wise virgin whom the Lord found watching; she went in to the wedding feast with him when he came. Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia! Come, bride of Christ, and receive the crown which the Lord has prepared for you for ever. Alleluia!

Gospel Matthew 19:3-12 Husband and wife are no longer two, but one body.

Some Pharisees approached Jesus, and to test him they said, ‘Is it against the Law for a man to divorce his wife on any pretext whatever?’ He answered, ‘Have you not read that the creator from the beginning made them male and female and that he said: This is why a man must leave father and mother, and cling to his wife, and the two become one body? They are no longer two, therefore, but one body. So then, what God has united, man must not divide.’ They said to him, ‘Then why did Moses command that a writ of dismissal should be given in cases of divorce?’ ‘It was because you were so unteachable’ he said ‘that Moses allowed you to divorce your wives, but it was not like this from the beginning. Now I say this to you: the man who divorces his wife – I am not speaking of fornication – and marries another, is guilty of adultery.’ The disciples said to him, ‘If that is how things are between husband and wife, it is not advisable to marry.’ But he replied, ‘It is not everyone who can accept what I have said, but only those to whom it is granted. There are eunuchs born that way from their mother’s womb, there are eunuchs made so by men and there are eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary 

(Liturgical Colour: White. Year: B(II))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

Either:

First Reading Genesis 3:9-15,20 The mother of all those who live.

After Adam had eaten of the tree the Lord God called to him. ‘Where are you?’ he asked. ‘I heard the sound of you in the garden;’ he replied ‘I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid.’ ‘Who told you that you were naked?’ he asked ‘Have you been eating of the tree I forbade you to eat?’ The man replied, ‘It was the woman you put with me; she gave me the fruit, and I ate it.’ Then the Lord God asked the woman, ‘What is this you have done?’ The woman replied, ‘The serpent tempted me and I ate.’ Then the Lord God said to the serpent, ‘Because you have done this,

‘Be accursed beyond all cattle, all wild beasts. You shall crawl on your belly and eat dust every day of your life. I will make you enemies of each other: you and the woman, your offspring and her offspring. It will crush your head and you will strike its heel.’

The man named his wife ‘Eve’ because she was the mother of all those who live.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

OR: --------

First reading Genesis 12:1-7 All the tribes of the earth shall bless themselves by you

The Lord said to Abram, ‘Leave your country, your family and your father’s house, for the land I will show you. I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name so famous that it will be used as a blessing.

‘I will bless those who bless you: I will curse those who slight you. All the tribes of the earth shall bless themselves by you.’

So Abram went as the Lord told him, and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he left Haran. Abram took his wife Sarai, his nephew Lot, all the possessions they had amassed and the people they had acquired in Haran. They set off for the land of Canaan, and arrived there. Abram passed through the land as far as Shechem’s holy place, the Oak of Moreh. At that time the Canaanites were in the land. The Lord appeared to Abram and said, ‘It is to your descendants that I will give this land.’ So Abram built there an altar for the Lord who had appeared to him.

OR: --------

First reading 2 Samuel 7:1-5,8-11,16 The Lord will make you great; the Lord will make you a House

Once David had settled into his house and the Lord had given him rest from all the enemies surrounding him, the king said to the prophet Nathan, ‘Look, I am living in a house of cedar while the ark of God dwells in a tent.’ Nathan said to the king, ‘Go and do all that is in your mind, for the Lord is with you.’ But that very night the word of the Lord came to Nathan: ‘Go and tell my servant David, “Thus the Lord speaks: Are you the man to build me a house to dwell in? I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep, to be leader of my people Israel; I have been with you on all your expeditions; I have cut off all your enemies before you. I will give you fame as great as the fame of the greatest on earth. I will provide a place for my people Israel; I will plant them there and they shall dwell in that place and never be disturbed again; nor shall the wicked continue to oppress them as they did, in the days when I appointed judges over my people Israel; I will give them rest from all their enemies. The Lord will make you great; the Lord will make you a House. Your House and your sovereignty will always stand secure before me and your throne be established for ever.”’

OR: --------

First reading 1 Chronicles 15:3-4,15-16,16:1-2 They brought in the ark of God and put it inside the tent that David had pitched for it

David gathered all Israel together to bring the ark of God up to the place he had prepared for it. David called together the sons of Aaron and the sons of Levi. And the Levites carried the ark of God with the shafts on their shoulders, as Moses had ordered in accordance with the word of the Lord. David then told the heads of the Levites to assign duties for their kinsmen as cantors, with their various instruments of music, harps and lyres and cymbals, to play joyful tunes. They brought the ark of God in and put it inside the tent that David had pitched for it; and they offered holocausts before God, and communion sacrifices. And when David had finished offering holocausts and communion sacrifices, he blessed the people in the name of the Lord.

OR: --------

First reading Proverbs 8:22-31 Before the earth came into being, Wisdom was born

The Wisdom of God cries aloud:

The Lord created me when his purpose first unfolded, before the oldest of his works. From everlasting I was firmly set, from the beginning, before earth came into being. The deep was not, when I was born, there were no springs to gush with water. Before the mountains were settled, before the hills, I came to birth; before he made the earth, the countryside, or the first grains of the world’s dust. When he fixed the heavens firm, I was there, when he drew a ring on the surface of the deep, when he thickened the clouds above, when he fixed fast the springs of the deep, when he assigned the sea its boundaries – and the waters will not invade the shore – when he laid down the foundations of the earth, I was by his side, a master craftsman, delighting him day after day, ever at play in his presence, at play everywhere in his world, delighting to be with the sons of men.

OR: --------

First reading Ecclesiasticus 24:1-4,8-12,18-21 From eternity, in the beginning, God created wisdom

Wisdom speaks her own praises, in the midst of her people she glories in herself. She opens her mouth in the assembly of the Most High, she glories in herself in the presence of the Mighty One: ‘I came forth from the mouth of the Most High, and I covered the earth like a mist. I had my tent in the heights, and my throne in a pillar of cloud. Then the creator of all things instructed me, and he who created me fixed a place for my tent. He said, “Pitch your tent in Jacob, make Israel your inheritance.” From eternity, in the beginning, he created me, and for eternity I shall remain. I ministered before him in the holy tabernacle, and thus was I established on Zion. In the beloved city he has given me rest, and in Jerusalem I wield my authority. I have taken root in a privileged people, in the Lord’s property, in his inheritance. Approach me, you who desire me, and take your fill of my fruits, for memories of me are sweeter than honey, inheriting me is sweeter than the honeycomb. They who eat me will hunger for more, they who drink me will thirst for more. Whoever listens to me will never have to blush, whoever acts as I dictate will never sin.’

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 7:10-14,8:10 The maiden is with child

The Lord spoke to Ahaz and said, ‘Ask the Lord your God for a sign for yourself coming either from the depths of Sheol or from the heights above.’ ‘No,’ Ahaz answered ‘I will not put the Lord to the test.’ Then Isaiah said:

‘Listen now, House of David: are you not satisfied with trying the patience of men without trying the patience of my God, too? The Lord himself, therefore, will give you a sign. It is this: the maiden is with child and will soon give birth to a son whom she will call Immanuel, a name which means “God-is-with-us.”’

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 9:1-6 A Son is given to us

The people that walked in darkness has seen a great light; on those who live in a land of deep shadow a light has shone. You have made their gladness greater, you have made their joy increase; they rejoice in your presence as men rejoice at harvest time, as men are happy when they are dividing the spoils.

For the yoke that was weighing on him, the bar across his shoulders, the rod of his oppressor, these you break as on the day of Midian.

For all the footgear of battle, every cloak rolled in blood, is burnt, and consumed by fire.

For there is a child born for us, a son given to us and dominion is laid on his shoulders; and this is the name they give him: Wonder-Counsellor, Mighty-God, Eternal-Father, Prince-of-Peace.

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 61:9-11 I exult for joy in the Lord

Their race will be famous throughout the nations, their descendants throughout the peoples. All who see them will admit that they are a race whom the Lord has blessed.

‘I exult for joy in the Lord, my soul rejoices in my God, for he has clothed me in the garments of salvation, he has wrapped me in the cloak of integrity, like a bridegroom wearing his wreath, like a bride adorned in her jewels.

‘For as the earth makes fresh things grow, as a garden makes seeds spring up, so will the Lord make both integrity and praise spring up in the sight of the nations.’

OR: --------

First reading Micah 5:1-4 He will stand and feed his flock with the power of the Lord

The Lord says this:

But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, the least of the clans of Judah, out of you will be born for me the one who is to rule over Israel; his origin goes back to the distant past, to the days of old. The Lord is therefore going to abandon them till the time when she who is to give birth gives birth. Then the remnant of his brothers will come back to the sons of Israel. He will stand and feed his flock with the power of the Lord, with the majesty of the name of his God. They will live secure, for from then on he will extend his power to the ends of the land. He himself will be peace.

OR: --------

First reading Zechariah 2:14-17 'I am coming', says the Lord

Sing, rejoice, daughter of Zion; for I am coming to dwell in the middle of you – it is the Lord who speaks. Many nations will join the Lord, on that day; they will become his people. But he will remain among you, and you will know that the Lord of Hosts has sent me to you. But the Lord will hold Judah as his portion in the Holy Land, and again make Jerusalem his very own. Let all mankind be silent before the Lord! For he is awaking and is coming from his holy dwelling.

Responsorial Psalm 1 Samuel 2:1,4-8

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

My heart exults in the Lord. I find my strength in my God; my mouth laughs at my enemies as I rejoice in your saving help.

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

The bows of the mighty are broken, but the weak are clothed with strength. Those with plenty must labour for bread, but the hungry need work no more. The childless wife has children now but the fruitful wife bears no more.

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

It is the Lord who gives life and death, he brings men to the grave and back; it is the Lord who gives poverty and riches. He brings men low and raises them on high.

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

He lifts up the lowly from the dust, from the dungheap he raises the poor to set him in the company of princes to give him a glorious throne. For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s, on them he has set the world.

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

Gospel Acclamation cf.Lk1:28

Alleluia, alleluia! Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee! Blessed art thou among women. Alleluia!

Or: cf.Lk1:45

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who believed that the promise made her by the Lord would be fulfilled. Alleluia!

Or: cf.Lk2:19

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who treasured the word of God and pondered it in her heart. Alleluia!

Or: Lk11:28

Alleluia, alleluia! Happy are those who hear the word of God and keep it. Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed are you, holy Virgin Mary, and most worthy of all praise, for the sun of justice, Christ our God, was born of you. Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia! Happy is the Virgin Mary, who, without dying, won the palm of martyrdom beneath the cross of the Lord. Alleluia!

Gospel Matthew 1:1-16,18-23 The ancestry and conception of Jesus Christ.

A genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham:

Abraham was the father of Isaac, Isaac the father of Jacob, Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers, Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah, Tamar being their mother, Perez was the father of Hezron, Hezron the father of Ram, Ram was the father of Amminadab, Amminadab the father of Nahshon, Nahshon the father of Salmon, Salmon was the father of Boaz, Rahab being his mother, Boaz was the father of Obed, Ruth being his mother, Obed was the father of Jesse; and Jesse was the father of King David.

David was the father of Solomon, whose mother had been Uriah’s wife, Solomon was the father of Rehoboam, Rehoboam the father of Abijah, Abijah the father of Asa, Asa was the father of Jehoshaphat, Jehoshaphat the father of Joram, Joram the father of Azariah, Azariah was the father of Jotham, Jotham the father of Ahaz, Ahaz the father of Hezekiah, Hezekiah was the father of Manasseh, Manasseh the father of Amon, Amon the father of Josiah; and Josiah was the father of Jechoniah and his brothers. Then the deportation to Babylon took place.

After the deportation to Babylon: Jechoniah was the father of Shealtiel, Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel, Zerubbabel was the father of Abiud, Abiud the father of Eliakim, Eliakim the father of Azor, Azor was the father of Zadok, Zadok the father of Achim, Achim the father of Eliud, Eliud was the father of Eleazar, Eleazar the father of Matthan, Matthan the father of Jacob; and Jacob was the father of Joseph the husband of Mary; of her was born Jesus who is called Christ.

This is how Jesus Christ came to be born. His mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph; but before they came to live together she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph; being a man of honour and wanting to spare her publicity, decided to divorce her informally. He had made up his mind to do this when the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because she has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you must name him Jesus, because he is the one who is to save his people from their sins.’ Now all this took place to fulfil the words spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel,

a name which means ‘God-is-with-us.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Death Valley on AO3

Ohio, Present Day

His fingers skimmed over the cans, reading labels one by one. It all seemed more or less the same. He'd been standing in this aisle for far too long - the back of his neck prickled with awareness of the youngish cashier. She was watching him, but only out of sheer boredom, he thought. Needing something to do.

Still, the weight of anyone's gaze made him uneasy.

He had felt a set of eyes locked on him, watching him struggle or suffer or submit, for far too long. Those eyes followed him everywhere, maybe waiting to find him again.

The man who had once been Finn Schneider never went back to California. It felt like stepping carefully over cracks on a sidewalk, skipping the thirteenth floor, throwing salt over your shoulder, lining your window frames with iron. Just a way to keep at bay whatever might be watching and waiting for you.

He finally took in a deep breath, picked a handful at random, and swept them into the cheery yellow shopping basket he'd been carting around nearly empty. Just a bottle of ibuprofen, a pack of socks, and a rounded plastic container of bleach wipes.

Outside, the wind blew so cold it would feel like knives just walking back to his truck. But at least it would be warm inside, soon enough.

He was silent during checkout, which seemed to come as a relief to the cashier, who checked her phone surreptitiously the entire time. He didn't blame her.

Who would want to be sitting in this temple to American economic desperation alone on Christmas Eve?

"Total is twelve dollars and forty-six cents," She said, without looking at him. Her eyes were still on her phone. He heard someone towards the back come out of the employees-only door.

"Of course. I think I have two quarters..." He dug in his pocket, feeling a bit of his hair fall over his forehead.

"You have an accent." It wasn't a question. Americans in small towns often liked to tell him things he already knew about himself.

"I do. I lived in Germany."

"You were born there?" Her eyes went down to her phone and back up. He handed over a twenty and two quarters and watched her dig out his change, dropping his pennies into a Take a Penny, Leave a Penny dish currently entirely empty and sorely in need of pennies.

"Yes. I have lived here since... my twenties, though."

"Huh. I wouldn't stay here, if I could go anywhere else."

He shrugged, pocketing the six dollars and taking his plastic bag rustling with all the purchases he'd made. "I wasn't given much choice."

"Yeah, that I get. You have like a super German name?"

"Ah, no. Not really."

"Oh. Well, Merry Christmas, man."

"Yes. Um. Merry Christmas."

The little chime over the door beeped with the same eerie cheer as the little yellow basket as he left. He caught, from the corner of his eye, her coworker - a man a few years older than her - came up to stand beside her. He looked the man over, then leaned over to whisper to the cashier.

That prickled, too, but he made himself not look back.

He made it halfway across the small parking lot before he realized she hadn't been bored at all.

She hadn't been just passing time, no. That girl - maybe adult, maybe not - had been texting someone about him. Probably his height, hair color, build. What he looked at. How long he stayed.

She had recorded that conversation. She had been making sure there was a record of him, if he chose to hurt her.

She had called her coworker out, thinking it would maybe scare away a strange man with violent intentions. She hadn't known if he would hurt her, or not.

She couldn't know.

He could be a quiet truck driver lonely on Christmas Eve. He could be a killer scenting out a new victim. She could never know, unless he turned out to be the killer. And then it might be too late.

If he turned around, he thought, he'd see her telling the coworker everything he had said. A witness, someone who could echo her statements. He'd see the tension in her shoulders finally melting away, as the strange man went back to his strange truck and, in this small town store after dark on December 24th, she could finally feel safe.

It struck him as funny, that so long after he had been the one who felt like he might be able to relax when the strange older man drove away, now he was the stranger, now she was the young person who was worried but not worried enough.

He could kill them both, and who could stop him? No one ever stopped Robert. He took women and men right off of the street or out of parks. There were witnesses to the existence of his victims.

Only one witness to their deaths.

Two, if you counted the man locked in a cage in his living room.

If you counted his little Mouse.

The man who used to be Finn Schneider, currently carrying a falsified driver's license for a man named Carter North, swallowed against half-hysterical laughter and then kept walking. Heavy boots crunched on rock salt, laid down against the impending threat of snow in the gunmetal gray clouds heavy and low overhead.

If Robert is still killing, he must have a new Mouse to watch. To do nothing.

To stare, screaming behind a locked jaw, as another body is dragged along the floor.

The wind whipped around his jaw, icy air licking like Robert at spaces once muzzled to ensure silence. The man tried not to breathe too deeply, worried he would smell not the oncoming snow, but the hot smell of decay.

His truck waited for him. He pulled open the door and climbed up out of the wind, sighing as he turned the ignition and pulled slowly and carefully back out into the country highway.

He eased onto the interstate, knowing it wasn't far to the rest stop. He could park there, sleep warm in the cab in his bunk. Warm, and alone, and able to leave at a moment's notice.

His cell rang and he picked it up, easing off towards the rest stop. "Hallo?"

"Hey, Carter." Noah's voice was warm and affectionate, which Finn never answered with anything but his own flat affect. Whatever softness he had once had, Robert had burned away. He was a husk, now, barely a man. "Just called to check in."

Did Noah care about him? Or just keep tabs on him?

Finn had never known for sure. He had never asked, either. "I am in Ohio."

"No, I know."

Right. Noah had a tracker installed in his phone. Finn exhaled, trying to remember it was for his own safety. Because of what he did, helping Noah's work.

It was only because of that.

"Right. Well, I am fine. About to stop for tonight and watch a movie, eat, you know."

"Sounds good. I have new work for you. Group of four we found in a house in Michigan. Call me in the morning, all right?"

"Yes, Noah." He found a parking spot, and stared out into the growing darkness. Others had already stopped for the night, but many more drove past. Hurrying home to loved ones, maybe.

Finn had none.

Your mother is still alive, his traitor mind reminded him, needling into his side, up through his ribs. Right to his heart.

He ignored it.

"Good. I'll talk to you tomorrow with details. Glad you're in Ohio, it won't be a long drive to the house. We have someone who will help you over the border, and you'll get a new name before you come back."

"Yes, Noah." How many names had he gone by now? Ten? Twelve? None felt as real as Mouse.

"Make sure you're eating enough, okay? I know you have a hard time with that."

He swallowed. "Yes, Noah."

"Okay. Well. Have a good night."

"Good night, Noah."

Noah hung up, and Finn sat slowly back, letting his head fall back against the headrest.

A sound from outside caught his attention, and he found himself half-smiling as he saw the familiar stray winding sinuously towards him, her heavy belly hanging low as she meowed, offended he had not already opened the door for her.

The first time he had seen her, he'd shared a bit of his hamburger with her. The second time, he'd given her her own patty to eat and snuck a flea pill in. In the six months since, he'd found himself changing his routes, making sure to stop here at least once per month to share a meal and a little something to keep the bugs at bay.

Each time, she remembered him, he thought.

Or maybe she begged everyone and he was simply the sucker who fell for the act.

He had to climb down and help her up into his cab. She couldn't easily make the jump any longer. "The babies come very soon," He murmured, as she kicked up a heavy purr. "You need somewhere safe to have them, little mother."

He set her in the passenger seat and dug through the plastic bag from the store. He pulled out a can and opened it up, setting it down. She was already diving to eat, curled over it like he might yank it away at any second. He often ate the same way, he thought, after too many nights where dinner had been so little and yet so painfully earned.

For himself, he opened a protein bar and a little nutritional shake.

They ate together, Cat and Mouse.

That struck him as so funny he laughed. He laughed until his lungs burned, until he ran out of air for the sound.

He laughed until she stopped eating to stare at him.

She blinked - once, twice, three times.

He coughed and made himself stop, worried that laughter could too easily become the tears he never allowed himself to cry. After a pause, she went back to her dinner.

He went back to his.

Normally, she ate and then asked to go right back out, meowing and pawing at the door until he opened it. This time, she only licked the last hints of food from around her mouth and watched him. He poured some water from his water bottle into a little bowl he kept for snacks and she drank from it.

"I wonder if your usual water is frozen," He murmured as he took off his heavy boots, leaving them on the dash. Then he sighed and moved into his little living area in the cab, sitting on the bunk bed to open his laptop. One leg was curled under him, the other off the side, foot on the floor. Noah, he knew, would know he had turned on a data hotspot and logged on to the internet. Would know what he watched.

But at least he got to choose.

He expected to hear her demanding to leave, but instead, he felt her wind around his leg a moment later. She meowed, a little plaintive, and he sighed and picked her carefully up, setting her down on his bed.

She immediately began to clean herself.

He chose a film at random and then laid down, hands behind his head. As always, his knees twinged when he straightened his legs, but he forced them to anyway. His lower back ached, but that's normal, too.

Somewhere around the time that the film's main character confesses her love to a man who has eyes for someone else, the man who was once Finn Schneider feels a warm little head push against his hand. The cat settled herself next to him, and he scratched idly behind her ears.

Noah sent him a text at midnight.

Stop watching movies and go to sleep. Calling you at noon.

He read the message and then closed his eyes, taking in a deep, deep breath. He exhaled, long and slow, until his lungs burned.

Was freedom being able to leave this rest stop whenever he wanted? Or would it be leaving without Noah knowing exactly where he was?

It was for his own safety.

To make sure someone would know where he was if anything happened to him.

Wasn't it?

Was he free? Or had he simply belonged to Noah, since he was traded over for a new truck?

Noah called it freedom - but he tracked Finn's location, had never offered to help him leave and truly start over. And sometimes, Finn thought he had traded one master for another, to help free those Noah found worthy of it.

But perhaps Noah did not, in the end, think he deserved it. No, not him. Not Robert's shaky, squeaking little Mouse.

Not a man who still sometimes had to wear a mask like a muzzle in order to fall asleep.

Not a man who slept uneasily, knowing soon enough the faces of the dead would parade through his mind, making sure he remembered always that he had lived and they had not.

And this... this sad small life was all he had done with the time their bloody deaths had given to him.

"Merry Christmas, little mother," He whispered to the cat, who closed her eyes. He saw what looked like a smile in the curve of her mouth. "You, at least, I can help to live."

Even though he had been too weak to save anyone else.

Even though he never slept without feeling Robert's eyes as a heavy weight on his skin, heavier than his hands had ever been.

Even now, he still heard Robert whisper, sleep well, little Mouse, in his ear, heard his rasping laughter.

His phone buzzed.

Merry Christmas, Noah had sent him. Forgot to say it earlier. Can't wait to see you in Michigan.

Even now, Finn Schneider could not tell if he meant it or if he was only making sure Finn remembered who his life belonged to.

It felt like screams from a basement, lives he couldn't save. Lives he owed everything to, everything he could never repay.

So he gave what he had left to Noah.

Or...

Did Noah simply take it, and Finn had forgotten how to have anything for himself?

Good night, Noah sent him.

Good night, Finn sent back.

It felt like hands through his hair.

It felt like a cage door slamming shut.

-

@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @thefancydoughnut @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp

@whumperfully @pigeonwhumps @squishablesunbeam @darkthingshappen @whumper-soot @pumpkin-spice-whump @pardonmekreature @d-cs @honey-is-mesi @whump-queen @sowhumpful

[nixie-writes-aot]

Together, Tea The End

Warnings: hurt/comfort, post-war Levi and Reiner, platonic relationships

Characters: Levi Ackerman, Reiner Braun

Prompt: Teashop // Slice of Life

Author's Note: A tad late but! I wanted to try my hand on this. Especially since Levi is in my top 5 (#3 to be exact) and I adore the idea of Levi in a teashop. Also excuse the pun in the title hdnsksn @leviweek2023

Levi didn't have a lot of patience anymore, which was strange considering where life led him. His patience had worn thin and so had his ability to hold still. He wanted to appreciate what little he had left after the war. Especially with how little he had been rewarded in his life. Levi found himself reflecting on his choices in recent months, even if it had been years since the war. The very end of it, that was. Sometimes his dreams still startled him awake, seeing his best friend burn to a crisp. Yet they also had looked so peaceful.

There were other memories, naturally. Yet they paled in comparison to the days he remembered with him. With that man who seemed to understand Levi so fully and completely yet also not at all. Even Levi remembered struggling with how that man thought. Levi sighed, frustration wearing on his features as he dragged himself forward as best he could. Damn this wheelchair, Levi thought to himself. It was helping him on the daily, he knew it was and so did the two brats. Yet even still, Levi sought the feeling he once had. The full ability of being able to move and see without having to compensate for newfound disabilities.

Still, this was important to Levi. Something he promised Hange he would do once the war ended. Once they all saved the world. Levi was sure that if Erwin lived to see what Eren became, he'd be disappointed. Levi grunted, wheeling himself up to the shop. He looked up at the windowed door, he couldn't help but question why he had been so stubborn as to leave long before those two could badger him into letting them come.

This shop, though, was special. A small place on Paradis that Erwin had a vested interest in. Hange had wanted to see Levi at peace just enough to know what had become of the old place. By now, it was definitely old. Levi struggled, trying to push the door in. He blinked up at a tall blonde, grateful yet twinged with just a spark of sadness as he thought about who he thought it had been. Of course, this one was nothing like Erwin. First of all, his stance was bulky. If not a touch sad in his own right. Those eyebrows were much thinner, furrowed in confusion with golden eyes peering down at the retired Captain. His hair was just a few shades darker than Erwin's own.

"Braun." Levi grunted.

"Captain, would you like to come in? The shopkeep is out so I volunteered-" Reiner started.

"Obviously." Levi sighed, watching the big brute step aside and allowed for Levi to wheel himself inside the small place. It was quaint, familiar. Levi really did regret not coming here with Erwin sooner or not coming with Hange after Erwin died. Levi couldn't really think of a reason why that had been the case. Just that it was so pleasant, just like that blonde had been.

"Black tea, Captain Levi?" Reiner asked.

".... Camomile, actually." Levi sighed.

If Reiner picked up on the choice, he didn't prod for an answer. Levi rolled himself to the closest table, watching Reiner prepare the tea in comfortable silence. Reiner brought a second, sitting across from Levi and placing a cup in front of him. Levi stared at it for a moment, it wasn't his usual but an event like Erwin's birthday deserved something noteworthy. Levi brought the cup to his mouth, holding it by the brim, and took a drink. Levi let the taste settle on his tongue, reminding him of the late Thirteenth Commander. Levi couldn't help but enjoy the blonde's presence, even if it was silent and quite the more meek presence than a man of Reiner's size seemed capable of.

Levi sighed, "Those two asked you here, didn't they?"

"Do you blame them? You're a difficult man to care for." Reiner muttered, frowning and peering into his own tea, "We all worry for you, Captain."

"I know." Levi stated, leaving the air to return to its silence.

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Plenilune

Haldir x reader - NSFW!

Fun fact: in Tolkien's legendarium the Moon is male since it is guided by a male Maia, Tilion, while the Sun is guided by a female Maia, Arien, and is therefore female.

*****

The murmuring of the wind through the leaves is almost comforting to your ears, as if the forest wished to hearten you against the danger you have deliberately put yourself in for the thirteenth time, as you spur your mare towards your destination galloping among woods and meadows. The moon and the stars illuminate the path enough to keep you and your mare from falling, and no evil that you ought to fear has ever entered Lothlórien; but yes, you are in peril, and you don't even want to think about the consequences if he found out what you are doing.

It is late, you sadly reflect as you cover your head with your hood in the remote case someone sees you, and obviously you cannot help it, since you couldn't leave until he had gone to bed and it would take the fastest horse almost an hour to reach your destination, but still you feel yourself trembling, your heart beating twice as fast as normal with haste, and fear... and another emotion, much more pleasant, that makes you wish you had wings.

A few minutes later, you and your mare have finally reached your destination: the gates of Caras Galadhon are a stone's throw from you, the high trees surrounded by talan standing out, solemn and majestic, against the hilltops behind them. You tie your mare to the trunk of another tree, leaving her to rest after the ride and graze pacefully, and walk towards the gate, your pace slow and your arms spread to show you carry no weapon and are therefore not a danger to the city and its people: you lived here for many years and most of the guards know you, but you know how seriously they take their duty to protect the borders, and it is better for all of you to avoid an incident.

You are now close enough to discern the shapes of the two Elves on duty, both fitted with one of the great bows of the Galadhrim and a quiver full of arrows; one of them softly calls your name.

"Orophin?" you answer in the same tone, not bothering to hide your relief, even more because next to him you have recognized Rúmil, his braided hair easily identifiable in the soft moonlight; after more than a year you must have met most of the guards, who serve on rotation, and none of them has ever tried to forbid you from entering -you are pretty sure they all sympathize with your predicament and are willing to help, even if it means turning a blind eye on your visits, but still, the fact that every single marchwarden is aware of your tryst is more than a little embarassing- but you are happy to be welcomed by the only two Elves in Caras Galadhon who have been personally informed of your visits... and of the reason behind them.

The moon is full; perfect in his circular shape, he shines above you, surrounded by the stars as a lord by his courtiers. You smile as you look at him, and then step across the high gate in white wood and iron that Rúmil has opened for you. "Hannon le" you thank him softly, and he simply smiles in return, while Orophin looks around you anxiously; the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien know you personally and know you pose no danger to their people, but strictly speaking they are failing in their duties letting you in after sundown, since the gates are closed during the night, and the fewer people know you are there, the better.

There is so much at stake for them, for you, and for the one who you know is anxiously waiting for you at his talan; you don't even want to know what would happen if you were discovered, but you persist, month after month, each time the full moon rises in the sky. And one day, soon you hope, your efforts will bear fruit, and you won't have to hide anymore...

"I thought you had decided not to come." Rúmil jokes as he closes the gate, and you wink in response. "Not even if the Valar themselves attempted to stop me."

"Stop wasting time, both of you!" Orophin hisses "The sun will rise in a few hours, and (name) must have left by then; you should go now, and be careful!"

If someone heard you, they could think you are plotting some heinous crime; at first the thought amused you, since the reason that brings you to the city every plenilune goes against no law, but by now, after a whole fruitless year, bitterness has grown inside you, a vague sadness and a sense of helplessness that make it almost impossible to joke about it. You would never give up on your hopes, and you would never renounce him, but sometimes you feel trapped, powerless against the will of the Powers and that of your own body, as if your dearest dream will never come true...

You would never express those doubts in front of your friends, who promised to help you in any way they can and are deliberately failing in their duty to do so; because of this you thank them both and proceed, quickly leaving the gate behind you.

The high Mallorn trees rise up all around you, the sight of the starry sky blocked by the talan built around their trunks; large oil lamps hang from the branches, most of them dark as it is normal during the night, but another lamp is lit, a lamp whose handle is grasped by someone who is waiting at the base of one of the trees, a tree you have reached without hesitation, moving among the maze.

You see him, you see his deep blue eyes in the noble face, a joyful and relieved smile breaking over his lips as he sees you, and it is as if you are finally able to breathe after a month spent struggling for air.

"Haldir..." you murmur, breathless for much more than just the speed of your pace; he almost lets the lamp fall from his hand, and a moment later you have started running towards each other.

*****

You still remembered the day you met Haldir; he was the guard on duty at the gate, you the new handmaiden lady Galadriel had just admitted in her entourage. As he walked you to the main talan, you were immediately struck with his noble beauty, the solemn face with the hint of a smile on his lips; you spent only a few minutes together since he had to return to the gate, but in the following days, when your path crossed as you were both busy with your duties, he never failed to offer you a smile and a nod, as if you were friends. With time, you learnt to appreciate him beyond his loveliness and a quiet friendship had started developing between the two of you, but you never thought he would be interested in you, until leaving your room one day you found a folded piece of parchment waiting in front of the door, under a niphredil flower: Haldir invited you for a walk, that very night; if you accepted, you were meet him at the gate at the end of his shift.

You felt your heart bursting with happiness when, that night, you walked to the gate wearing your favorite dress, your hair brushed until it shone, and the niphredil flower behind your ear; you couldn't wait to be alone with him, and you smiled at Haldir, busy talking to the guard who had come to take over from him. He smiled back, but you didn't notice how perplexed he looked when he saw you.

"Thanks for your message, I couldn't wait for our walk. Shall we?"

"... Yes. Oh course, let us go."

You spent two lovely hours together, walking along a trail in a beech wood just outside the city and sitting next to a stream; you talked, freely as you had never done before, about your families and your dreams, your pasts and your fears. You enjoyed Haldir's company and he appeared to appreciate yours, and for you it didn't matter what would have happened after that day, if that pleasant evening would be the beginning of something special or would remain a single event to think back to wistfully, and in the end, you didn't care: those few hours under a clear blue sky, when you didn't have to worry about duties and responsibilities and were free to be simply yourself, were a treasure in their own right, and whether Haldir's invitation was extended out of friendship or something else, in the end it didn't matter: simply being with him made you happy.

In the end it was only when Haldir insisted on walking you to your room, that he confessed the truth - simply because he felt he had to, being too fair and honest to take advantage of a scam, even though it hadn't been his fault.

"I must admit... I never invited you on a walk; the message that you received was probably sent by my brothers." he confessed, too ashamed to look you in the eyes, his long hair barely covering the flush that had spread on his fair face. He told you that Rúmil and Orophin, who you knew well and had noticed him staring longingly at you, had tried to convince him to approach you. Haldir had refused, both because he was sure you wouldn't be interested and simply because he would have rather faced Melkor than tell you about his feelings, and in the end his brothers must have decided to take the matter in their own hands.

"You are lucky to have brothers who care so much about your happiness." you said, your back pressed against the trunk of the tree, the talan you shared with two other of the Lady's maidens high above you; the night was falling on Caras Galadhon, a gentle breeze caressing your hair and dress. You would have flushed, and even perhaps run away in embarrassment, but apparently Rúmil and Orophin's intervention was due to their brother's indecision, not to his lack of interest, and because of this you stayed where you were, ready to reassure him that you were happy to have spent the evening with him nonetheless... and that if he wanted to invite you again, you wouldn't have said no.

"You think? At the moment I sincerely wish my parents had stopped after having me. Please don't misinterpret, I am very happy you came and I couldn't think of a better way to spend an evening; but they shouldn't have meddled."

You almost asked him if he would have ever confessed his feelings for you, had his brothers not intervened, but in the end, what difference would it have made? Despite everything, you were grateful to Rúmil and Orophin for what they had done, but now, and from now on, the two of you would have walked at your own pace.

"I am supposed to wait on the lady Galadriel at the banquet tonight." you said in the end "Shall we have dinner together before that? If you have nothing more important to do."

Relief was clear on Haldir's fair face as he answered that no, of course not, nothing on all of Arda would have been more important than spending more time with you. Expressing his feelings didn't come natural to him, at least not before he had spent some, or a long, time with someone, which could have made the other person -namely, you- interpret that reticence as indifference, even disregard, but you didn't; you were still learning to know each other, and as any other couple you would have your misunderstandings and disagreements, but in that moment at least everything was perfect, as if you just needed to share a look to understand what you were feeling. You cared about each other, more that you could express, and that was enough.

It was beautiful, and it made you happy.

"May I take your hand?" he asked, and the question was deeper than it appeared, since friends didn't walk holding hands, but a couple who was courting did; he seemed uncertain, even shy - quite a difference from the steadfast, capable soldier you had learnt to know. That sight filled your heart with affection... and an answer you couldn't have given to him faster.

"Of course. I would love to."

You let him take your hand, you took his, and since then neither of you has ever let go.

*****

Neither of you speaks as you climb the slim rope-ladder to reach the talan Haldir shares with his brothers, identical to the many others where the guards live, in groups of two or three; wooden screens, carved in shapes of trees and animals, separate the communal area from the smaller ones reserved to each of them. As soon as the door of the large chamber, built all around the tree trunk, closes behind you, Haldir takes your hands once more, brings them to his lips, and kisses them devotedly. "You came." he murmurs, his eyes full of affection and relief; he knows your feelings, he knows that you will never give up on him and nothing, not even Melkor himself, could forbid you to go to him on a full moon night, but you know that every time he fears he will never see you again, and you will never have the family you both wish for.

He is so afraid, your Haldir, but so gentle and reverent as he holds you against him, his hand caressing your hair as you rest your cheek on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. He doesn't ask whether someone saw you, after you passed the city's gate, along the way or, worst of all, as you left your village; he knows you are as careful as you can be to slip away unnoticed and to ride along hidden paths, but you both know the risk, and accept it, because being together once more, one more night, even just one more hour, is worth the most dire consequences.

"I am sorry, I am late." you tell him in the end, after you part just enough to look at each other; so many years after you have shared your first kiss he is more handsome than ever, so handsome you feel yourself shivering as his warm hands find your shoulders under your cape and run along your naked arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind them. He is wearing a grey tunic with a brown leather belt, his long hair spread on his shoulder and chest; many Silvan Elves have blonde hair, but no one's is as beautiful as his, and sometimes, as you lie next to each other, your passion dormant but not forgotten, you like to play with it, braiding and running your hair through it, or rubbing it against your skin.

Maybe you will do it once more, tonight; before you have will to go.

"I had to stay until he went to bed, and he had some friends visiting, so..."

"It it all right, don't concern yourself." he reassures you, and you love him for it, because every moment you lose during those nights is a wasted opportunity, a loss you could pay dearly if you were discovered, but still he cannot stand to see you upset "I am just glad you came. Eru... you are so beautiful..."

"You have seen me wear this dress at least ten times."

"True, but I wasn't talking about the dress. My darling, my beloved flower... how I have missed you..."

Maybe the distance plays a part in it, as well as the fact that you haven't laid together often, even through you have been courting for years, or maybe not; maybe it is just that you love him desperately, with all your heart and your mind, your fëa and your hröa harmonius in desiring him, the warmth of his body, the soothing sensation of his embrace. No one could ever call you naive, and after a year you know your beloved's skin as well as yours, but, and maybe because of this, your heart is pounding in your chest as you offer Haldir your mouth, that he claims in a kiss as he holds your face in his hands.

You kiss avidly for a while, your hands moving from Haldir's strong shoulders to his back and chest to caress and stimulate and revere; he moans in your mouth, the sound lurid and heavenly at the same time, as he takes off your cape and let it fall on the floor - which betrays the state he is in, since he would never leave something, especially clothes, lying around instead of finding an appropriate place for them, tidy and even fastidious as he is. Evidently you really have an effect on him, you think pleased, so much that you make him forget himself...

"Why are you smiling as we kiss?" he asks, feigning a contrariness he is physically unable to feel; a moment later his kisses move to your neck, and the goosebumps are no longer limited to your arms.

"I am simply -oh yes, right there!- happy we are together, that is all."

"I am happy as well, my flower. And I wish... we didn't have to wait the full moon..."

You would like to jest that the moon is a capricious master, who only allows you to meet once every twenty-eight nights, and you should ask him to assume his most complete form more often, but you can't; you cannot joke about it, not anymore. This night coincides with the most fertile moment of your cycle, and this is why you have chosen it to meet; often enough to give you a realistic opportunity, as well as to alleviate the pain of your separation, but at the same time your visits to Haldir would be sufficently sporadic not to arouse suspicion - you hope. It is not much, but you make do. It seemed a good compromise when you decided on it, since you make the most of your time together, clinging to each other until you are both panting breathless, and you thought you would have achieved your goal by now.

You haven't.

You often feel as if time itself works against you, but nonetheless you take your time, savoring the intimacy and the joy of being together once more before you can taste each other's flesh. Haldir's hand has guided you behind the wooden screen that separates his area of the room from those of his brothers'. Rúmil and Orophin are on duty until dawn, and since they both respect your privacy they would never interrupt you in any case, but your beloved doesn't feel at ease laying with you if you are not as hidden as you can be: he is such a modest, demure person, and you love him for it... as well as for everything else.

"How I have missed you..." you murmur as you once more find your beloved's mouth with yours; he moans into it, his hands moving hungry and greedy on your body as those of a sculptor molding a block of clay, and this is exactly how you feel, as if you are nothing, raw, shapeless, aimless, if you are not close to him, able to touch and be touched.

Neither of you speak as your clothes start falling to the floor. You free Haldir of his tunic, and his skin is like marble in the semi-darkness around you, smooth and cool and made for you to touch and caress; he moans, his head bent backwards, as you hold his hips in your hands and fill the distance between the two of you to kiss his neck, his chest, and his stomach. You feel, as well as hear, the rumble of pleasure escaping his lips as you close yours around his right nipple, licking and sucking as you stimulate the other one with your fingertips. You love Haldir like you have never loved anything and anyone, you love his kindness and his intelligence, his sense of duty and his wit; you love his stubborness and his rigidity and melancholy. And you love his body -strong, agile, so deliciously masculine, a source of warmth and pleasure and life; you cling to it, exploring and stimulating it until he is moaning and whispering your name and his desire is presses against your belly, hard and warm.

"Please." he begs; Eru, how you love hearing him like that "Please, my darling, let me have you..."

You don't answer, but you smile, and you break the kiss to turn and offer him your back; Haldir's agile fingers make quick works of the knots of your dress, and soon the cloth is sliding down your body, and you are naked under it, no shift or undergarments, because you have so little time to spend together and you don't want to waste it taking off your drawers.

That, and he tore your favourite shift six months ago, in his haste to take it off you; mortified, he apologized and promised to replace it, you simply told him he would have to make your loss worth it.

There is awe on his face, as well as desire, as he admires you, his fingertips barely brushing against you but leaving a trail of fire behind them. "Come." he invites you taking your hand once more, and his bed -the only element present in the small area behind the screen, apart from a chest and a chair- is only three steps away, but you like being led, being welcomed to it just like he has opened his heart to you.

You have already started kissing as you lower yourself on the bed, Haldir's arms keeping you close enough that you can feel his heartbeat matching yours, your hands fiddling with his belt; you brush your hand against his hardness, and your beloved has the audacity to snigger.

"Have patience, my love; it is yours, you know it, and you can have it any time you want."

You pout. "I want it now, Haldir..." you tell him, and he kisses you once more, and tells you to "Take it, then."

Getting undressed while one is laying is not easy, but finally your beloved is as naked as you are, his fair skin pressed against yours; you take his hardness in your hands as he moans, fondling and kissing it, and in the end he asks you to stop, because it is not on your hands that he wants to spill. You let him push you on your back, and a moment later Haldir's strong body is above you, his golden hair spilling all around him; you pass your fingers through it, mesmerized, and you brush them against your breasts, and there is something so alluring, so enticing in that sight, that when your eyes met his, you know that his desire has taken over - he cannot think clearly, he has forgotten everything that is not you, and what you share, and what he will feel once he is inside you. He is the most rigorous and even-tempered person you know, devoted to his duties and able to keep his composure in times of danger and hardship, but when he is with you... especially like this... it is as if another Elf takes his place, an Elf who would be ready to forget his responsiblities and his honour for the opportunity to lay between your thighs, once more.

It is beautiful, and terrifying; and it should be a source of pride for you, but instead it humbles you, and fills your heart with awe, because you feel the same. Haldir is your intended, your future husband, your lover, your best friend, and one day he will be the father of your children; you promised him, and you promised yourself, and you will do whatever you need to make that dream come true.

You have opened your legs for him, Haldir's fingers gently caressing them as you cross your ankles on his back, giving him full access; you have surrended yourself, offering your body and your soul and your love to the one you know deserve them and will always cherish them, and that is why you don't feel it as a loss. You moan as he lowers his mouth to suck on the side of your neck, murmuring your name as he would with that of Varda, and you groan when his fingers brush against your mound, eliciting a jolt of pleasure through your body. Please, you tell him, and you don't know whether you are actually articulating the words or just thinking them, your moans and sighs betraying your desires, please take me, I need it now, I need you...

And a moment later you have him, fully and perfectly like so many times before. You are clinging to his shoulders, his name blossoming again and again on your lips as a litany, as a prayer, as the sinuous movement of his hips makes stars explode behind your eyelids. He moans your name, fierce and greedy and so loving, and you could almost cry with emotion, were you not too busy simply feeling, and you love all of it - his love, his passion, his reverence, the promise you have shared years ago and that you renew every time, without the need for words.

The fire is burning inside and all around you; and it is the kind of flames you are happy to be consumed by.

*****

It is all your father's fault.

It is not nice to say, but it is true. Your current predicament, the need for secrecy and to meet on full moon nights, everything is due to the fact that your father didn't approve of Haldir as your intended, and he explicitly stated that he would never give his consent for you to marry. Not because he dislikes Haldir, or because he considers your beloved unable to take care of you and make you happy; the reason is way more personal.

Your father and his dearest friend have always planned to have their children marry, so as to unite their families in one. As fate would have it, your father's friend has a son who is exactly the same age as you -was it deliberate, a pact that they made and that also involved their wives? Two years ago you would have considered it absurd, but now you would not put it past him- which, in the two fathers' opinion, made things easier and ensured the continuation of both of their lineages.

You knew the pact with his friend was important for your father; you just hadn't realized the lenghts he would go to see his dream come true. His friend lived too far away to make frequent visits possible, and the few times you had met, his son seemed nice enough, a good company for a walk or to sit next to at dinner; you never talked about your fathers' plans, simply trying not to bore each other. Marriage prospects were the last thing on your mind, at least until you moved to Caras Galadhon to serve lady Galadriel, you met Haldir, and he stole your heart.

You never thought your father would oppose your relationship with Haldir; you only mentioned him in your letters as a friend, since you didn't want him and your mother to come and make sure his intentions were pure and serious -they were, obviously; but you didn't want your beloved to feel he had to prove himself- but you were sure that when they got to meet him, they would love him, just like you did.

They didn't. Well, he didn't; when you, radiant with joy, returned home with Haldir to introduce him to your parents and announce you were engaged, your mother was ready to welcome your beloved in the family within ten minutes after meeting him; your father, unfortunately, was a whole different matter.

"What? Surely you are joking. You cannot pledge to marry him; you are already engaged and you know it. I was going to write you about it next month: my friend and I decided it is time for the two of you to wed. His son was going to move with you in Caras Galadhon, but since I don't want you to be... distracted by your friend here, you better leave the service of the Lady and go live with him in his village. Now, do not argue with me; I am your father and I know what is best for you."

He clearly didn't, but try as you might you couldn't change his mind, or convince him to relent. Your father was determined to get his own way, no matter how much you cried -and it was a lot, so much that it filled you with shame, particularly because it was all in vain- argued, locked yourself up in your room and threatened to hurt yourself; he had decided to have you marry the son of his friend, and that he would do, even if it meant forbidding you to leave home until you relented. Poor Haldir had to return home alone, because your father forbade you to return even just to say goodbye to your friends; he was too honourable to challenge your father's authority under his roof, or to kidnap you from your home, and your mother begged you to obey your father as a good daughter should. You grudgingly did... but still, you were determined to marry your beloved, whatever the price.

Your only real ally in the family was your sister, who sympathized with your and your beloved's plight and promised to help; in front of your father she feigned disinterest in the whole matter, so as not to arouse suspicion, but secretly she was the one who sent your letters to Haldir and received his for you, pretending to be corrisponding with her friends in other villages.

Deciding what to do was painful, and at the same time surprisingly easy. You dearly loved your father, and since you were little you had only wanted to make him proud; likewise, Haldir respected him and only wanted to be accepted in your family. But since all your hopes had been dashed, you were only allowed to leave your home if escorted by one of your parents and he was struck in Caras Galadhon, there was only one thing you could do.

Elven marriages are usually conducted in front of families and friends, and include the exchange of rings and a blessing imposed by each pair of parents on their new child-in-law. On the other hand, your people's oldest tradition has it that the union of the bodies symbolizes the union of the soul, and that the birth of a child is enough to consider a couple married on a factual, and as a consequence formal, prospective, just as the first Elves who awoke at Cuiviénen wed each other. So, you agreed as the letters were sent and received between the city and your village, this is what you would do; you would get pregnant, and then your father would be forced to recognize your relationship, for the sake of his grandchild if not for yours... and because at that point his friend would hardly accept you in his family. And if your father decides to repudiate you, throwing you in the streets and forbidding you from ever returning... you will accept it. It would break your heart, because you love him, and your mother, and you never wished to cause a rift between you, but Haldir is the husband you have chosen, the other and the better part of you, and you are willing to sacrifice it all to be with him. You knew Lady Galadriel would welcome you back among her maidens, not caring about the shame you would have brought to your family, and you and your beloved would then marry and move to a talan of your own.

It would be a nice life; a perfect life, with your husband and the first of the many children you had already planned on having. And it will be, one day, hopefully soon. It was exactly thirteen moon cycles ago that, once more with the help of your sister, you ran away during the full moon to visit Haldir in Caras Galadhon, and even though this is supposed to be your most fertile period and you make at least two attempt per night his seed still hasn't taken root in your womb. You are sure, since it is known that Elf women are able to perceive a pregnancy as soon as it begins, the first tiny sparkle of life inside them making itself known not by voice or movement, but with a peculiar sensation that nothing else in Arda can compare with; a new entity making itself known to the world, too small and young to have a gender and an appearance and a personality, but that exists... and that would be enough to change your life forever.

You and your beloved are waiting for it; dreaming it; praying for it, even, although until now your efforts have been in vain. Laying with Haldir is lovely, passionate and sweet, and you would be more than happy to keep doing it every single night until the end of the world; to share his bed has allowed the two of you to reach a new level of intimacy, to experience each other as you had never done before. It is not that you love Haldir more now that you know the pleasure his body can give yours; you have found a new way to love him, in addition to those you already knew, which is different, and more precious. For him, you know, it is the same; he awaits your visits with trepidation, already happy and excited and looking forward for when you will be unclothed, in his arms, and moaning with his flesh in yours, but you know that he would be equally satisfied if you spent those nights walking in the woods, or sitting in front of the fire talking and exchanging stories.

You would never say that for more than a year you have wasted your time, especially since these are the only moments you are able to spend together, and you miss your beloved so much; but still... why haven't you gotten pregnant already?

*****

You sigh, happy and satisfied, as you turn on your back, sharing a smile with Haldir, panting by your side. "It was... it was absolutely..." you begin, but the words fail you, because even after a whole year, you cannot describe exactly how you feel, how he makes you feel, the joy and the pleasure you experience and that you know no one else could ever give you, because no one is like him, no one is him, and you are blessed to have met him, and earned his love.

"It was." Haldir agrees, as he once more takes you in his arms to hold you close; he kisses your brow "And it always will be, I promise."

You should leave soon, since you need to be at home before your parents awake and notice you are gone -and unfortunately your father is the earliest riser you know!- and you both know it, but you don't move, your cheek resting on Haldir's chest as his fingers gently run through your hair. You don't need to be as close as the two of you are to know the same thought is filling both of your minds, the same thought that has tormented you for a whole year now...

"Do you feel... something?" Haldir hesitantly asks in the end, and you sigh; he doesn't blame you, and the guilt and the disappointment weighting on your heart are probably even worse than what he feels, but still, in that moment, despite all the joy and the pleasure still warming your body, you feel so ashamed you cannot even look him in the eyes. You don't know exactly what you are waiting for since you have never been pregnant before, how it will feel to know that you have conceived, but of one thing you are sure: that right now, satisfied and happy and aching in the most pleasant way as you are, you feel exactly as before, exactly as you did at the end of the previous twelve attempts: empty.

You have failed. Again.

A sob escapes your lips, a sob that Haldir is too close not to hear, but you still try to hide your face against his shoulder. "I am sorry. Haldir, forgive me, I don't know what I am doing wrong..."

"No, no... It is not..."

"I started drinking a tea that is supposed to render a maiden more fertile, it tastes disgusting but I drink it every day, I swear, I don't know what else..."

There is no accusation or resentment in your beloved's bright blue eyes, only understanding and sadness, and that is enough to make you feel the worst Elf on Arda, undeserving of his love, undeserving of the joy of motherhood.

"Maybe the fault is mine." Haldir whispers in the end, his hand on your cheek "I know these things require time, and we have only one night every moon cycle to try, but if I were able to... if I had to rest less... maybe three times is not enough..."

"My darling, you have to rise at dawn to go on patrol; you need rest. What we do cannot hinder your duties as marchwarden."

"I know, I know..."

He looks so dejected, so guilty and disheartened, that you find yourself forgetting your sadness to try and alleviate his.

"Listen to me; we have no reason to feel guilty, since we are doing everything we can; as you said, it takes time to conceive a child, and we cannot let disappointment and bitterness make us forget how lucky we are. We love each other, and we are together, albeit just for a few hours; just for that, I am grateful."

"If we had a child, though, we could be together without having to hide." Haldir points out; but then he smiles "But you are right; we will keep trying for as long as we need to, and in the meantime we will enjoy the time we can spend together. I cannot wait to give you a child, to raise a family together... but I just need to be with you, and to know that you are mine, to be happy."

"I am, Haldir; and I always will be, I promise."

In the end you are forced to leave your beloved's bed and get dressed; Haldir needs all the rest he can get, but as always he rises with you to walk you to the gate. You don't talk as you leave the talan behind you, your hand in his, the quiet murmuring of the night holding you in a gentle embrace. You love moments like this, when words are not needed, a simple moment is a treasure, and every little gesture speaks about you. You would stay here for hours, just enjoying your beloved's company and the beauty of the night, but the full moon has already started his descend towards the horizon: it is time to go.

Rúmil and Orophin look at you expectantly as you reach the gate, but they are quick to pretend to be otherwise occupied when they notice the lack of joy and relief on your faces. You smile, and

"We will try once more." you tell them, as Haldir kisses your temple.

"We will try for as long as we need to."

You and your beloved say your goodbyes with a long hug, and a last kiss. "Be safe." he tells you, and you nod, too busy committing his face, his scent, the feel of his arms around you, to memory, to talk. A minute later you have passed the gate, alone once more but not lonely, disappointed but not sad; you had a night with him, and you will have another on the next full moon, and that is enough.

You wave your hand in farewell, and he responds in kind, before stepping away and letting the darkness of the night surround you.

TAGGING @starlady66 and @elvenenby. Hope you like this!

[deada55]

That One Time

crossposting: ao3

synopsis: Minnie thinks she remembers life as an Explosion with two older sisters, a notoriously intense celebrity father, and one of the most stylishly self-directed mothers in the world.

for kloktober day 1, favorite character or OTP.

I was planning to unveil some fankids when AOTD came out... and then I promptly killed them! I still think about them sometimes, and I hope I don't get slammed for writing nategail in the year of our lord 2023 after AOTD did a really good job at showing us what ought to happen in situations like that, but I think their family would have been funky and sweet.

full text under the cut:

Minnie was on the edge of her seat watching her family’s faces twist and search around for one another as they waited in the dead center of a mile of three-lane standstill traffic. Driving a hellcat didn’t make anyone immune… The point of the trip was to recreate something Lyssa did years ago: When asked what she wanted for her thirteenth birthday, she threw up her hands and cried out that all she wanted was a normal family. So, they rented an AirBnb within a five minute walking distance from their paternal grandparents’ house and spent two and a half weeks eating, living, and vacationing like a family of “regular jackoffs.” 

Lyssa was back from Brown for spring break, and helplessly scrolling social media and trying not to be embarrassed that sitting behind her agitated dad (seething behind the wheel) looked better than taking GHB in Amsterdam like some of the Birkin-toting business administration girlies who called themselves her friends when they read her last name on the panhellenic “rush” interest form. The classes were tough, the readings were long, but aside from being asked for money or to give her father ziploc bags of slimy sex toys when she went home for the holidays, she enjoyed her new phase of life. For the trip, she pulled out some jeans and camisoles and some foam sandals from a couple years ago to make the best of their casual trip. Since she couldn’t do readings or answer emails in a moving car, she was scrolling through a grainy scan of an old Ayn Rand lit crit.

Kenzie looked and acted a lot more like her father, fidgeting and making comments about the people who had given up on civilization altogether and stepped out of their cars. Her snapchat and her instagram stories were being populated by views of the O MPH speedometer she took while her mom wasn’t blocking the shot. Without anything to post, she had nothing to do, and whatever she had coming through her headphones wasn’t entertaining enough. Time is money, and money all depends on content… Kenzie was convinced of her potential to make enough money to live on outside of the inheritance she could expect from their father, and it came at the cost of almost anything fun. Her grainy meal replacement smoothie had melted into a cloudy soup in the cupholder. She reapplied her lip gloss, pulled down the top of her stylish celery green athleisure co-ord and flipped through TikTok.

Mom wasn’t as sensitive as Lyssa, and had been returning emails the whole time they were en-route to the aquarium. Up at the front of the car, the parents had been in a gentle match of social ping-pong, with pokes, small talk, his firm hand resting on her leg or her moisturized fingers, shining like bronze, squeezing his shoulder. She re-tied her curly hair back with a scrunchie (Tampa water had pissed her hair right off… different water meant different products, and it’d been a long time since she had to face the “ethnic hair care” section at a Walmart) and made a face when Dad tried sucking air out of his empty coffee cup for the fourth time.

When she went into the bathroom at the gas station about an hour ago, he ducked in after her and bought three bottles of Johnny Bootlegger. When she came outside, he was finishing off the third one around the corner of the building. Minnie saw her glance over there, but all she did was pull the car around so someone else could get to the pump. 

Now, in the jam, all he did was shake. At least, for now… There were times where it lasted five minutes, half an hour, or a week or two at a time, then left quickly, or left and came back, but periodically he’d be shaking for one reason or another. Since his eyes weren’t yellow, he wasn’t slurring his speech, and he wasn’t confused, his daughters knew they could rest easy and stand by; it would pass, it always did. As unnerving it was to see someone so big in every way crumble at the drop of a hat, there was a shared understanding that nobody was enjoying it or causing the sky to fall out on purpose, especially not him. The girls understood their job to stand by and stay the course, whether it meant minding their own business or sending cards to hospital rooms when they can’t be there.

“Fucking… cocksucking-” He touched the gearshift like there would be a point in taking it out of park. Mom laid her hand over his.

“Relax, Nathan. We don’t have anywhere to be. Oh, look-”

Someone walking around leaned against Lyssa’s door, talking to someone else in the lane beside them.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“Yeah, Dad, what the fuck is he doing?” Kenzie had her phone out and rolling. If her mother wouldn’t have explicitly prevented her, she would have been streaming their whole vacation live, but instead she had to take a chance and was shooting for her Instagram story. “Can you see anything?” She fixed the way her fringe laid in case she had to flip the camera around, but a couple hairs got mixed up in her eyelash extensions and had to be guided out.

“He’s just fucking… talking, I guess.” All the time, he was scrutinizing the surround and peeking into the vehicle’s blind spots (their window tint helped them avoid paparazzi and unfriendly agitators well, but one could never be too careful in a luxury car sitting in the middle of the interstate in Florida). He snatched some sunglasses from the console and pulled his hair onto the right side before punching the horn and watching the guy jump forward so suddenly that he tripped. The man caught himself from that, but his momentum sent him stumbling into someone else's rearview mirror, until he finally hit the asphalt.

Minnie laughed so hard it hurt. By the time she was slowing down, her sisters were starting up again just because she was still struggling to say anything other than “He went- Oop!” and howling. The guy’s popped-out eyes and wobbly feet were absolutely stuck in her mind like a commercial. 

Giggling, her mother turned around. “Are you ok, Minnie?” 

Kenzie was re-playing the video she took of the whole thing, which included Lyssa forgetting and dropping her phone when she heard the horn. It was all caught in the same shot for Kenzie, and she couldn’t have been happier to catch her sister like that. Lyssa was griping and feeling around for her phone in the floorboard.

“Yeah, mom!” She grinned from the third row and spat a curl out of her mouth. The whole car of green-eyed shower drain murderers (anything you eat is subject to having at least one long hair in it, curly or straight) settled into satisfaction with the jest and the renewed sense of ease it left behind… they didn’t have anywhere urgent to be, and they were a normal family, as normal as any family was, in the middle of the heat of the world.

But Minnie sat back. Her solitary reflection in the globby puddles of nickel, clinging to the earth like scabs, took the thought with it. Had it ever happened? Like a play, like a streak of light, like seeing without remembering, the memory passed like a train, so visually overwhelming and then definitively ended, disappearing into the distance and shrinking all the while.

[lesvegas]

New Vegas - Now Under New Management!

In 2301, the city of New Vegas had been a raiders’ paradise for nearly twenty years. A week after the murder of his best friend, Auguste follows up on a lead at Gomorrah, determined to avenge him.

Chapter 2: Feed Me Now [ao3 link]

Wearing a bright red suit all the time had more pros than cons. While some might consider it tacky, none could deny that it was eye-catching and iconic. One glance at me and you knew you were looking at Auguste. The colour also resembled old-world warning signs in more ways than one; this suit was a red-alert to anyone who tried to start shit with me. Stand in my way, piss me off, so much as give me a rude look and I’ll have twenty securitrons on your ass before you can think to spit on my shoes.

Like a vibrant but venomous pre-war animal, people knew to stay the hell away from me unless they had business. Crowds parted in the street for me, and raiders who thought they were oh so scary made way for their soon-to-be king, allowing me to cross from the Tops to Gomorrah with ease. The only ones who didn’t move were the guys who were so fucked up they were passed out or dead, but they were easy to step over. Or step on.

Opening the door to Gomorrah’s front lobby, I was hit with the smell of cheap smoke. It tended to linger in here. Gomorrah was the stuffiest casino around, and it made me loosen my tie a little.

The greeter was as courteous to me as always, flashing a smile even though he fucking hated his job. I couldn’t tell if he’d always worked here or if he was a reformed raider. Whatever family ran this place before was long gone, and I didn’t even hear them get mentioned much. I just smiled back at him and walked on in with my silenced 12.7mm. I never let anyone take my gun from me, not since I got it on my thirteenth birthday. Not even my own father could take it from me.

I skipped the casino floor and entered the main Brimstone club. The stage was crowded around what seemed to be a new girl having her first dance. I only watched her half-assed moves for a moment before approaching the bar and ordering a new pack of smokes. The second I had it, I emptied the little box to refill my cigarette case, then handed the emptied vessel to the bartender to toss. I left a few caps as a tip to be polite, but I didn’t pay. Everything I ever asked for went straight to Fresno’s never-ending tab.

Sufficiently restocked, I went around the bar and through the door up to the next level without a second glance from the guards. Zoara Club was a nice little private lounge for important people only, overlooking the stage below. But I never came up here for the view.

The office doors were always locked, but the pool tables were always available. There were only two people besides me that I’ve ever seen play the game correctly: my father, and Cal.

Cal might have been the closest thing I had to an uncle. He was something of a family friend, having known both my father and Fresno since before I was born. He and Fresno used to be an item (I can’t really imagine that), and he and my father still met up to play games sometimes. Usually pool, chess, or poker. They both taught me how to play, but Cal was the one who taught me how to cheat. While my father got me my first gun, Cal got me my first Stealth Boy. He used to be the go-to babysitter when I was too small to be left alone, despite being one of the busiest men in the city, and I had fond memories of him showing me how to hack a terminal or pick a lock.

But tonight, he was playing pool, and only casually watching the stage now and then. While he wasn’t as hands-off as Fresno, he did have a casual attitude to running Gomorrah. He let the whores do their own thing for the most part, and he’d been on good terms with the best chem suppliers in the region for years now, enough to let them have their own small-time dealers sell in certain parts of Brimstone. He mostly just needed to make sure people actually paid for services and that nobody got hurt.

“What do you think?” Cal asked me as I approached the pool table. He was bent over the table, lining up a shot for the solid 7-ball.

“Of the girl?” I asked, then looked down to the stage again. “Well… she looks nice, I guess. They seem to like her. But she looks like she’s got no idea what the hell she’s doing.”

“I know.” Cal struck the cue ball which rolled into the 7-ball, sinking it in one clean shot. That left only the striped balls and the 8-ball. “She insisted on going up without any training. Said she used to dance in Primm.”

“I didn’t know Primm had dancers.” I said, then grabbed a pool cue for myself. “Maybe she’ll learn the hard way when she makes shit tips.”

“Maybe.” Cal said, then stood straight to let me have a go. “How’ve you been holding up?”

“Just peachy.” I said, leaning over the pool table. I could sink the 9-ball, I think. It was close enough to a hole, but a bit far from the cue ball. Still, I tried to take the shot anyway. The cue ball hit the side of it, but only managed to nudge the ball closer to the hole. “I’d be happier if I had a name.”

“Didn’t your dad ever teach you about patience?” Cal teased with a slight smile that I couldn’t be mad at, even if I still felt like killing someone tonight. He glanced around a little before positioning himself to take the 9-ball from me. “Fine, let me break the tension. I don’t have a name yet.”

Fuck.

“S’alright.” I said quietly, but it was incredibly obvious how disappointed I was. I really came in here expecting to know exactly who to hunt down and destroy.

Now why did I expect Cal of all people to figure out who shot Brutus for me? Simple, really: Cal used to go by Callipho, and he used to be one of the best spies in Caesar’s Legion. Specifically, he used to be one of those fru… froo… whatever that would work undercover in Vegas. He’s half the reason the family that used to run Gomorrah aren’t around anymore, according to him. 

Cal wasn’t a friend of the old Legion, though, no way. He used to tell me all these stories of how these Caesar guys were real sticks in the mud at best; they couldn’t even drink or smoke. No fucking wonder they’d take their frustration out on their women. Oh, and they were pretty fucking brutal, even as far as raiders go. Cal had the scars all over his back to prove it. He dipped the moment Fresno gave him the opportunity.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t look so miserable.” Cal said, setting his pool cue aside. The game wasn’t over, but he began taking the balls out of the holes anyway. “Just because I don’t have a name doesn’t mean I don’t know who did it.”

I perked up at that. “Really?”

“Sure. Look,” He began arranging the balls on the table in a peculiar way, then laid out two pool cues parallel to each other. It took me a moment to figure out the pool cues were the Strip itself, the solid balls were buildings, and the striped balls were people. Save for the white cue ball in the middle next to the red-striped 15-ball. “You said it happened when you and Brutus were walking back to the Tops from Vault 21, right?”

“That’s right.” I said. The blue 2-ball must be Vault 21, then. “It was getting late.”

“So you were both heading this way.” Cal said, pushing the balls that represented us forward a little. “Brutus was on your right as you headed North. And he was shot in the back of the head at a downward angle.”

“I recall.” I said bitterly.

“So…” He picked up the yellow 1-ball and the green 6-ball. “The shot could’ve only come from one of two places. The old NCR embassy, or the Ultra-Luxe.”

Oh. 

Oh, I was a fucking idiot for not realizing this sooner. “And, considering the NCR Embassy is pretty damn small…” Cal set the 6-ball down and tossed me the 1-ball. I fumbled, but caught it. “I think it’s safe to assume that a Jackal took the shot.”

I stared down at the yellow-striped ball in my hands. I only just noticed it had a slight chip in it. I wondered if that made it unbalanced enough to make a difference in-game. Is that why Cal always picked the solid balls?

“How long did it take for you to figure that out?” I asked.

“Honestly? Not long at all. But I still wanted to rule a few things out before I told you.” Cal admitted. “I still don’t actually know who in the Ultra-Luxe did it. Hell, it might not’ve even been a Jackal. But…”

I looked at him. He took the ball back.

“Kid, let me give you some advice…” I could already tell I wasn’t gonna like what he was about to say. “Sometimes it’s better to let things be.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life.” Cal said, beginning to clear off the pool table. “Listen, the Jackals are huge. Like, Khans-level huge. They weren’t always huge, but they are now. They’re not just a small-time raider gang, alright? Fresno didn’t give them a whole casino just because they asked nicely. If one of ‘em had no problem shooting your dog, what do you think they’re gonna do to you if you go in there and start throwing a tantrum?”

So fucking what if the Jackals were huge? This was my city. Brutus was my dog. If I have to convince my father to convince Fresno to make the securitrons mow them all down, I will. I’ll fucking find a way somehow. But maybe I’ll give them a chance, first. Go over there right now and tell them to hand over whoever did it, spare the rest. I could be merciful.

Cal sighed. “For the love of God, do not go to the Ultra-Luxe.”

“I’m going to the Ultra-Luxe.”

I returned the pool cue to its place on the wall, and started to leave only for Cal to follow right behind me. He was still talking, but I wasn’t really listening. What he said did make sense, but I was beyond the realm of rational thinking right now. I had a whole week’s worth of pent-up rage and grief to unleash on some unlucky Jackal and I wasn’t about to let him stop me.

But then he stood right in front of me in the doorway at the bottom of the stairs.

“Cal, move.”

"Listen.” He hissed. “If this is really that important to you, I’ll help. But we’re doing things my way, got that? Let me do the talking and we’ll figure out who took the shot without riling up the entire casino. Alright?”

I stared long and hard at him. I breathed in, held it, and exhaled softly. I wasn’t just sweating from the humidity in here. I shoved my hands in my pockets when I noticed how shaky they were. I counted backwards from ten in my mind, and it was clear for a moment.

“Fine.” I said after a while. “But we’re doing this tonight. And I need a smoke first.”

The Ultra-Luxe was the biggest and most upscale casino on the Strip, even after its current occupants made a fucking mess of it. The Jackals didn’t run the place nearly as well as Cal ran the Gomorrah and the Chairmen still ran the Tops, but that was supposed to be part of the ‘appeal’. It was all one big joke, this group of lowborn scavengers running a gorgeous hotel and casino. Even as far as raiders go, they were some of the lowest of the low; they used to be known for picking people clean after fire fights in the desert, and being dirtier than most. Now they were like stupid kids playing house, dressed up in mommy and daddy’s best clothes.

The costume included the masks, naturally. They liked how creepy it made them look. But most of them had broken the bottoms off so they could still show off their sharpened teeth. It was sort of their trademark.

Cal and I had eaten at the Gourmand before, so it wasn’t the weirdest thing when we walked in by ourselves and asked for a table. There were no wait times for people like us; we were seated at a table right in the middle of the dining room almost immediately and given a couple of menus. I requested a bottle of ice-cold Nuka-Cola because I felt like staying sober and didn’t really trust them not to put something in my drink, and Cal seemed to have the same idea when he asked for a bottle of water.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked once the waiter left, pretending to skim over the menu.

“I’m still trying to come up with one.” He admitted. “But I don’t think shooting the place up or searching the entire hotel is the way to go.”

“Agreed.” I said. I had calmed down just enough on the way here that I thought better of it. “I think we…” I trailed off as the waiter returned quickly with our drinks.

“Thanks.” Cal said, then took my menu before handing it to him. “We’ll just start off with some salads. No meat, no dressing. Keep it clean, please.”

Cal withdrew his bottle opener from his coat pocket and opened my bottle for me. Thankfully, it’d been sealed. I took a sip, then spoke again.

“I think we should ask around. Well, no, not ask around, but…” Asking around is the last thing we should do. I meant to say, “Snoop around? But not the whole hotel. But someone has to know something. I say we break into the office of whoever runs the place and ransack the room.”

Cal stared at me. “You don’t even know who runs the Jackals?”

“Why should I?”

Cal just took a drink of water. Fine, stupid question, I should know who runs the Ultra-Luxe. But that wasn’t the same thing as knowing the leader of the Jackals. One was a raider and the other was a business owner. Big difference.

“Maybe you should meet her.”

I gave him a look.

“No, I’m serious.” Cal went on. “I think if anyone around here knew who did it, it’d be her. And she’s smart enough to give up one killer to save her own skin. Again, just let me do the talking and see where that takes us.”

It was the only real lead we had that could possibly save us some time. And I trusted Cal’s opinion on stuff like this. But I still sighed in frustration. “Fine.”

Our salads were brought over promptly. It didn’t exactly take long to prepare what was essentially chopped lettuce, nuts, and shredded carrots. We’ve had meat here before, even pasta drenched in sauce, but tonight was one of those nights where it just felt better not to risk it. And it was pretty difficult to fuck with a plain salad.

I tried a forkful of lettuce and carrots without so much as a drop of dressing. Naturally, it sucked.

“What’s the matter?” Cal teased. “Don’t like rabbit food?”

“Were rabbits ever real?” I asked. Cal just shrugged. If they were, they were before his time, too.

The waiter came back again already. Christ, they usually served us fast, but tonight it was like they knew they were in trouble. “Is everything all right?” He asked after we had, what, one bite?

“Actually, no.” I said, putting my fork down. Of course the salad was awful, but… I got an idea. Cal gave me a look, but I kept talking anyway. “I’d like to speak to the owner. Not the manager, not the chef, the owner. Of the whole casino. Your leader.”

[lielove]

dairy entry ; hoshino ai's twelfth birthday.

the caretaker read off the names of all the children who had a birthday this week. it was so monotone and boring, i could tell that she didn't care at all... some of the other kids smiled and clapped when they heard their names... or a friends. but nobody did that for me.

but that's fine, i wasn't expecting them to anyway.

there was a small, round chocolate cake this time. the caretaker said to make sure all the birthday kids got a slice but, as usual, the kids just run up and take it. she doesn't do anything to actually make sure that the birthday kids get anything, and the cake is too small.

i didn't get my slice again this year. but that's fine, too. : )

dairy entry ; hoshino ai's thirteenth birthday.

it's my first birthday working under strawberry productions as an idol. there's only four of us in b-komachi right now; watanabe, nino, takamine and myself. nino seemed a bit annoyed at the whole thing, but the other girls were nice.

director ichigo bought a big cake... it said "happy birthday ai" in big letters.

this is the first time i've had a cake just for me.

i split it with the girls, but i was able to take the rest home with me. it was shaped like a strawberry, and tasted like it too.

after we ate cake the girls gave me some presents, watanabe's gift was my favorite. ✰

diary entry ; hoshino ai's fourteenth birthday.

b-komachi had a mini concert today, so i spent my birthday performing with the girls. director ichigo still brought a cake, he sliced it and let us have some after the meet and greet.

so many of my fans brought me gifts and wrote letters... i've never had so many people care about my birthday... care about me. i'm going to take the time to read them all when i have some time off.

these people... they really love me. i'll have to keep lying to them so they'll always see me as their picture perfect star. ♡

maybe a day will come where i can shout "i love you" out into the crowd and mean it, that'd be nice.

diary entry ; hoshino ai's fifteenth birthday.

the people at lala lai are nice.

they were just as... no, maybe they were even more enthusiastic about throwing a party for me than director ichigo was. is this how life at the theater always is ?? i'm still pretty new here but everyone is treating me like i've been there for years already. it'll take some getting used to... but i can just lie my way through it so nobody realizes, eheh.

i had to step away from the party for a bit.

i found a boy standing outside when i did, he was smoking a cigarette and looking up at the sky. i think his name was hikaru ?? i've met so many people since i came here... it's hard to remember everyone... and i've never really been good with names.

he's got a memorable face, though. so i don't think i'll forget him.

i don't even think the rest of the theater group realized that i spent the rest of the party out there with him. ✨

diary entry ; hoshino ai's sixteenth birthday.

i'm staying the night at hikaru-kun's tonight.

spending the entire day with him... feels kinda romantic, aha... ♡

i was able to get a reservation at that nice restaurant, we've got a private place tucked away for ourselves there, no one should bother us at all, and it's all thanks to that director for helping me find restaurants and places where we could keep meeting in secret.

i haven't been able to tell him i love him and mean it, but i do like him a lot... it sounds kinda silly when i write it out like that.

but being his girlfriend, and calling him my boyfriend. it's nice.

i think today is going to be a really fun day.

diary entry ; hoshino ai's seventeenth birthday.

it's my first birthday since the twins were both... now that they're here i don't think i could ask for a better gift. they're so small and cute... just looking at them makes me so, so happy.

miyako and director ichigo stopped by with a small cake and a few necessities, he gave me a small bonus as a birthday gift... he didn't have to, but i think he did it so i could have more to put towards my kids.

i've gotta do even better as an idol so i can keep seeing their cute smiling faces, i want to give them the best life that i can... as their mother... i'm all they have, and i have to give it all i've got.

diary entry ; hoshino ai's eighteenth birthday.

i think miyako tried to help the kids make a birthday card for me, it was the first thing i saw when i woke up this morning. it's a little hard to make out but it's cute... i'm going to put it up on the fridge anyway. i'll have to thank her later for that.

today i have a photoshoot at nine, an interview at noon, and i'm going to be a guest star for a radio station from three to five. that's how most days have been recently, though.

i'll probably ask director ichigo if he can pick up a cake that we can all share once i'm home, the kids probably shouldn't have sugar so late at night but... it's a special occasion so i think it'll be okay, just this once.

diary entry ; hoshino ai's nineteenth birthday.

the filming for that was the start is still ongoing, but i think it might wrap up soon ?? the cast and crew threw a little party for me for my birthday. it was sweet of them. i had fun, but i was really looking forward to getting home... i picked up some board games to play with ruby and aqua the other day... spending some time with my family is all i want for my birthday this year.

i've been so busy that i've spent more time out of the house than in, i know miyako is taking care of the kids but... as their mother, i should still make sure to spend time with them, too.

diary entry ; hoshino ai's twentieth birthday.

b-komachi is going to be performing at the dome today. director ichigo talks so highly of it... i wonder what it'll be like. there'll probably be a lot of people.

he said he was going to get some of the nicest champagne he could find and we'd have a toast once we gets me back home after the show. does alcohol taste good ?? i don't really see the appeal but... i'll still try it. he seems to really like it, at least.

there's front row tickets for ruby, aqua and miyako. as long as i can see my kids in the crowd then i'm sure i'll be shining just as bright -- no, i'll shine even brighter than usual.

[elizabethrobertajones]

"Well that was a huge waste of time. Sorry, Zero."

"Don't be. We tried, and failed. And -"

"And what?"

"And... I found myself... enjoying our journey."

"I took you to the most demon-infested place I could think of. Uh, no offence."

"... It is more pleasant perhaps than you realise."

"Are you flirting with me? Oh, you don't know how that even - "

"I had a pleasant time, with you."

That finally made a small smile break through Frog's quiet demeanour since the ritual had failed. "Do you want to go to one more place with me before I drop you off back at Radz-at-Han? I need to get my bearings to see where we might try next and I know a good point to do that."

"I'd like that."

Setting aside her scythe for a staff, Frog reached into the deep well of black magic she was adept in and employed the rituals her teachers had once used when instructing her to find the tears between void and home. Between Thirteenth and First. Or with Zero here beside her, watching a similar yet utterly different form of witchcraft, Home and Home.

Sure enough the Black Shroud was still riddled in ancient ties to the flooded shard, and many had been poked and prodded by wizards of greater or lesser skill through the millennia. If what little they'd learned of Francie bore out she may have come from a farm in a place so very like this forest, give or take thousands of years and total obliteration by rampant darkness.

And somewhere, hopefully, was a spot where they could reach out and tie formless voidsent to something solid, something that reminded her of home. Something that would enable Frog to truly meet the now loyal friend who had helped win Zero's trust when first they had been able to talk. The least Francie deserved was to be understood in turn.

Lowering her staff, Frog sighed in frustration that revelation hadn't hit her sooner.

"Did you not find it?" Zero asked, stepping forward in concern at the Warrior of Light's unusually slumped posture.

"I don't even know what it is," Frog admitted. "I just - I've handled this so very poorly I don't even know where to begin. I feel like I might have met you - saved you sooner." She sunk to her knee in front of Zero, put her hand to her shoulder, and beseeched her to meet her eyes with a sudden well of pain they'd unearthed together, thoughts tumbling into place. "If I had saved you, I would have severed his tie to you and he would not have fought so hard. Gone back to his old weapons and predictable moves. Instead I charged in all righteous and holy... I gave no thought to how it would have gone had I been strong enough as a Reaper to fight him as equals, to understand him and know what it was that he had done. To you. I wish Francie had been there. That I hadn't been as noble, as black and white."

Zero sought Frog's hand out, cautious, slow. It still made her jump at the contact, and take a moment to slide her fingers around the slender armoured wrist, cooler than armour usually was after a long day against skin.

She looked up at Zero, and found the slight quarter-ilm of change in her expression that made a benevolent smile when interpreted to someone else's face. "I understand you were under incredible trauma at the time. You are not to be blamed for simple decisions made in hard times. They simply are made, and in the noise - the hunger, the confusion, the pain, you are not expected to know all ends as you make that choice. We simply live with the end we have created."

"Oh," Frog said.