#I wish I already had some results and went through it when I wasn’t so fucking alone

[ukrainian-psycho]

i wish i figured it out sooner

#I feel like I’m too old for transition #I know it’s not true but I wish o didn’t waste a quarter of a century being lost and miserable #I wish I already had some results and went through it when I wasn’t so fucking alone #idk man #I always felt like a glitch in the matrix I guess it finally explains it #I’m too tired for anything maybe too tired to live too tbh #I’m juggling so many things constantly #some bullshit comes up and I’m the only one who has to deal with it #idk

[pronoun-fucker]

IN 1986, Sophie Ottaway was born with a very rare condition which required immediate surgery.

Cloacal exstrophy happens when the organs in the abdomen do not form correctly in the womb, resulting in babies born with organs such as the bladder or intestines outside the body.

Doctors had to operate to save her life.

Sophie was actually a boy, with a tiny, damaged penis but healthy testes.

But doctors advised Sophie’s parents that their baby’s male ­genitalia should be removed to avoid further complications.

The baby had to be registered by the following day, which meant they had to decide whether to tick male or female on the form.

Sophie’s parents Karen and John followed the surgeons’ advice.

“They were told not to tell me,” says Sophie, a warm and friendly 37-year-old who has since fully forgiven her parents for their decision.

“We are very close,” she tells me, “despite going through some rocky times in the past.”

Life changed for Sophie, who grew up in Beverley, East Yorks, when she was 22 years old and visiting her GP surgery for tonsilitis.

She says: “I saw on the computer screen that I had XY chromosomes, had been castrated hours after birth, and an incision was made where a vagina would be.”

Although Sophie exploded at her parents in the moment, she buried her feelings about it all until 13 years later when, hospitalised during a Covid lockdown, it was discovered she had developed sepsis that had ended up in her intestines.

‘I went into 13 years of absolute denial’

This was what led her to decide to speak out.

Sophie was already aware that many children and young people were being groomed in gender ideology, persuaded to take puberty blockers, then set on a medical pathway for life.

She says: “At age 11, as I approached puberty, they put me on oestrogen because there’s no ovaries, and no testes to produce testosterone.

“This is what doctors are doing now to kids who wish to change gender — putting them on blockers.”

It was a lie when Sophie was told she had to take oestrogen for life because her ovaries had been removed at birth as a result of damage.

Sophie was born biologically male. “So obviously there were never any ovaries,” she says wryly.

She adds: “The time to tell me and try to get informed consent was at the point we introduced the endocrinologist. This is the time puberty blockers are being offered to kids, so I make that connection with what’s happening today.”

When feminists and others critical of the medicalisation of children with gender dysphoria have said that these drugs and interventions are harmful, we are often labelled bigots. But Sophie is speaking from personal experience, in the hope that she will be listened to rather than dismissed and vilified.

About five years ago, Sophie chose to stop taking the hormones, because “I was adamant that many problems in my life were being caused by them.

“I was about 4st heavier than I am now, and I wasn’t eating badly. I was having bladder pain beyond belief.

“I had fatigue and was quite angry a lot of the time.”

By then, Sophie had been taking oestrogen for 20 years, and decided enough was enough. She was told she should keep taking it because it was for bone density, to which she replied that she would have regular bone scans.

Sophie had no choice but to go on oestrogen, because the doctors prescribed it to her as a child — but surely she should be listened to when she warns of the effects cross-sex hormones have on the body?

Now that she no longer takes it, all her symptoms have improved.

She says: “We’re selling this idea of perfection in the guise of changing gender. You’ve got all of these problems and might be struggling because you don’t fit in at school, or because you like boys’ toys and you’re a girl, or vice versa. As someone who knows all about decisions made under time pressure and who has paid the price, Sophie’s understanding of the sales pitch being made to children before puberty is crystal clear.

She says: “You’ve got a sale based on a time pressure.

“We’re going to push you through this for the puberty blockers, we’re going to make that sale.”

Keen to stress that there is a big difference between a girl behaving “like a boy”, wearing boys’ clothes and haircuts, Sophie adds: “Puberty blockers are a different level to how we dress and which toys we favour.”

The idea being sold is that gender reassignment is the answer to all your problems, but Sophie says: “What you get is genital mutilation, castration, and a lifetime of dangerous hormones, which was my experience.”

As she points out: “Children can’t vote, they can’t drink, can’t drive.

“But you can choose to do something life-changing.”

Sophie hopes that by speaking out and telling her unvarnished truth, some children — and parents — might make a different choice.

She says that when she found out that she’d been born male, “I obviously knew I had urological problems, and I knew that I had no vagina because of the surgeries.

“I didn’t address it at that point. I was 22, in second year at university.

“I had a plan of my life. And dealing with this monstrosity was not in the plan. I got up the next day and went to university.

“I still had the same connection with my friends. I was still the ­person I was 24 hours ago.

“But I went into 13 years of ­absolute denial.”

She never told anyone about it, not even close friends.

‘When I came out of hospital I was raging’

Then, during the pandemic, Sophie found herself in hospital a couple of times, and it all came crashing down.

She recalls: “They thought it was a kidney infection, but they couldn’t get to the bottom of it.

“When I was born they had fashioned some female genitalia. Brown putrid fluid starting leaking out of the hole and it would not stop.

“I presented at the hospital and I had to tell them for the first time about what had happened to me.”

When doctors examined her, they saw that there was something very wrong.

It turned out there was a mass in her abdomen, which was the neovagina — inserted when she was a baby — and left to rot.

Sophie says: “I found out from my mum that they had inserted it when I was two days old, and that one day it popped out and was found in my nappy.”

Surgeons replaced it during a later operation, sealed it up, and left it, which is why it led to sepsis many years later.

“No one had been told it had been put back in,” says Sophie.

Up until this point she had thought that the surgeon had simply operated to save her life — “which he did, but he also did a hell of a lot of other stuff that was unnecessary.”

What’s more, the doctors failed to do something that was necessary — namely, address the complex urological problems that have plagued Sophie all her life.

She says this “is one of the things that has the biggest effect on having any kind of intimate relationship. And yet the one thing that they could have fixed is my incontinence.”

She tells me: “When I came out of hospital, I was raging at that point.”

And she thought that by speaking out, she might be able to help those who think they are in the wrong body.

Sophie says: “A lot of them are being groomed to feel that way or question those thoughts in the first place by the school and the system and the media. Those kids need help.”

A much better solution, she argues, would be to divert funding currently being used for puberty blockers, cross sex hormones and surgery and ­allocate it to children’s mental health services and counselling.

Sophie says: “We can work with that person to find out why they are feeling like this.

“Then, maybe when they become an adult, they might be mature enough to be properly informed and consent to any changes to the outer body.

“It is often assumed I am transgender, but I really don’t like labels. I am just Sophie.

Poised for a backlash from the more extreme trans activists, Sophie makes it clear that she respects any adult’s decision to choose that path — so long as they are properly informed.

But she is clear that this is never appropriate for children.

“I don’t want this to happen to any other baby born with this condition,” she says.

“We have to find better ways to support kids to live in the body they are born with.”

Link | Archived Link

#radical feminism #radfem #gender critical #gender #trans #transgender #Julie Bindel

[thebellearchives]

hii!!! how are u doing? can i request barbatos x mc/reader 16."You've got a fever. Of course l'm not going anywhere."🫶🏻

𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔

~ barbatos ; obey me

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : life at the House of Lamentation was going to take a toll on you at some point, luckily there is one person who will take care of you like no one else can

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!mc, fluff, mc has a crush on barbatos ~

‧₊˚ a / n : i don’t know why but i had a tough time with this request, praying to the heavens you like this one anon!

The slight touch of someone’s hand on your forehead prompted your lashes to flutter open. Barbatos’ emerald eyes were the first thing you saw, and then his soft gentle smile.

“Are you feeling any better MC?”

You wished you could make the concealed worry in his eyes fade away, but the latent headache and constant shivering told you it wasn’t a good idea to lie for his sake.

“Not really.”

You got rid of your blankets once more, the ones you had been snuggling up when cold and then kicking away minutes later because of how hot they’d make you feel.

“Yes, I’m afraid your body temperature is still high, but the medicine will soon be here so don’t fret” the demon reached for a pretty porcelain teacup he had brought with him “in the meantime… I brought your favourite.”

Your eyes lit up, the scent of your favourite drink lifting your spirits immediately. When you took a sip of the liquid you felt at peace. Earlier that morning the brothers hadn’t stopped screaming about how awful you looked, trying to figure out if you had contracted a weird devildom sickness and panicking about you possibly being at the verge of death or something dramatic like that. You tried to keep them at bay but it only made you feel worse, it didn’t take long for Lucifer to calm his brothers down and take the matter into his own hands.

Asking for the opinion of a fellow human was the first thing on the list, so Solomon arrived to the House of Lamentation some minutes after that. The veredict: just a common cold, probably the result of too much stress and work. So he was sent off to fetch some medicine for you. In the meantime you were entrusted to Barbatos’ very capable hands.

“This is lovely Barbatos, as usual.”

“Only the loveliest of tastes for the loveliest of humans” his words heated up your face a little bit more than it already was, your eyes remained glued to your teacup in embarrassment. How lucky had you been to be under the watch of the demon your heart beat a little bit faster for.

“Thank you for being here, I appreciate it, but don’t you have a lot to do back in RAD?” your worried eyes went searching for him again, but he shook his head with a reassuring smile.

“The young master himself asked me to take care of you.”

“I see… but still, I really don’t want to end up making you sick…”

A small chuckle escaped the butler’s lips, you stared at him in a bit of a daze. His hand reached for yours, even when he had his clean white gloves on, you still were able to feel his comforting warmth through the thin material.

“You’ve got a fever, of course I’m not going anywhere.”

His gaze was fixed on yours, maybe it had been your imagination or maybe not, but there was a certain fondness in his irises. It made you feel like letting your body rest in refreshing, greenish river water. There was a magnetizing quality about him that for a moment made you feel like you both had moved comfortingly closer to one another.

“Thank you Barbatos” you squeezed his hand in yours.

#; fluffy belle #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me swd #obey me nb #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #barbatos obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos x y/n #barbatos x mc #barbatos x reader #barbatos x you

[bloatedandalone04]

Crash Course - Part 2

Series Masterlist

➪the one where you and hayden are officially together, on and off the track.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 5.6k | Part 1 | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Seven months since your massive failure in front of hundreds of people, and seven months since you met Hayden. 

You wished you could bring yourself to be embarrassed about the whole event, but it was the result of a deal you made with him, and it ended with you and him being wrapped around each other’s fingers. 

Tonight was supposed to be packed as well, and the drivers were encouraged to head out onto the track a bit earlier than normal, but that still didn’t stop Hayden from taking you by the hand and dragging you into one of the empty concession stands for a quickie. 

That’s where you are now, pressed up against the wall next to an out of order vending machine. Hayden kept your body pinned to the wall with his own, his hips rocking into yours at a pace that had your head spinning, and the two of you were still fully clothed.

You should have seen this coming, really. 

Since you were in a serious relationship and had even moved in together a few months back, you drove to the track together to save some money on gas. And so you didn’t have to spend time away from one another.  

Seven months in and you were still so obsessed with each other, it was like a never ending honeymoon phase.

You teased him during the whole ride here, so he needed to get out his sexual frustrations before he went on the track for the rest of the night, and luckily you were more than willing to help him out. 

“Fuck,” he muttered against the skin of your neck, your jacket had long since been removed for the sole purpose of him wanting to mark you up before the race. Hayden had already left countless hickeys on your shoulders and neck, all of which would be covered by your jumpsuit later, so there wasn’t a need to make a fuss about the way he was tainting your skin with his mouth. 

Your hands thread through his hair as he fucked into you, lifting his head so you could press your lips to his. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good,” you praise quietly, not wanting to alert any potential wanderers who entered the venue just outside the stand. “So good.”

Hayden groaned loudly, seemingly unbothered at the very real fact that you and he could get caught doing this by one of the many workers, crew members, or fans that had shown up. “So tight,” he commented, dipping his head down so he could watch the way his slick covered dick fucked in and out of you. “No matter how many times I fuck you, you’re still so tight.”

His words turn you on even more and you tip your head back further, the action making the sales poster that was pinned to the wall behind you crumple a bit. “God,” you whimper, tugging at the hairs on the back of his neck that were peeking out from his snapback that had the track’s logo etched onto it. “Hayden.”

He grunted, his fingers digging into the underside of your thighs as he hikes you up further, making your free hand shoot out to grip the wall. A couple of posters that had the menu for the stand on them were ripped from their tacks and fell to the floor when you steadied yourself, your legs locking even tighter around his waist. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he praised. “You’re so perfect.”

“Harder,” you quietly beg, moving your hand from the wall and knocking the hat off his head. While you absolutely loved the way he looked when he wore the hat backwards, you loved the feeling of his hair between your fingers even more. “Please, Hayden, give it to me harder.”

Hayden lifted his head so he could meet your lust filled gaze, and he knew his eyes held the same look in them. “You want me to fuck you hard, pretty girl?” He asked, tightening his hold on you as he pressed his hips to yours, making him go as deep as he possibly could. 

The small box he had in his pocket poked him, and he could only hope that you wouldn’t call him out on what it was. You would find out later tonight. 

He stilled his thrusts and locked his jaw at the way you throbbed and pulsated around him, your walls desperate for him to keep fucking into you. “Want it rough? Like this?”

When he gives a single sharp thrust, you cry out and grip his hair tighter, feeling the way your body shook with need. “Yes, fuck, yes. Just like that,” you moan loudly when he resumes the movements of his hips, going at the same pace as before but much harder, like you begged him to do. “God, you’re so deep. I love you so much, Hayden, fuck.”

He grinned at you, pressing his lips to yours as he rocked into you. “I love you,” he said in between noisy kisses. “My hot, needy girl.”

What a hypocrite. He was the one who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He was the one who pulled you into the out of order concession stand as soon as you arrived at the tracks. But it was no secret that his hypocrisy was what started your relationship, with him going on about how much you wanted him, when in reality, he wanted you just as much. Maybe even more.

“We have to be on the track soon,” you weakly remind him as blackspots begin to cloud your vision. With Hayden, it was never just a quick fuck. The word didn’t exist in his vocabulary. If he was taking you, he was taking you at his own pace and he didn’t care who had to wait on him. 

There was, however, one way to get him closer a bit faster when you were in a rush. You discovered that Hayden was a sucker for hearing you beg for him to knock you up. You were on the pill and definitely not ready for kids yet, and you weren’t trying for them, but he was obsessed with the idea of you carrying his baby. 

Despite only being together for less than a year, you had talked about it, briefly. You both decided that you weren’t going to try for kids until you reached your late twenties, right around the four year relationship mark. 

“Yeah?” He teasingly asked, making no effort to pick up the pace. “Well, I guess they’ll just have to wait. There’s no way they would start without their two best drivers.”

“Hayden,” you purr, sucking on the skin below his ear. “I want you to make me come, then I want you to come in me.”

He groaned and tipped his head back, bracing himself with one hand flat against the wall beside you. The sight of his physical strength, and the fact that he was able to easily hold you up with only one hand, had you repressing a cry of his name. “Fuck,” he muttered, his hips stuttering when he felt you clench around him, your walls sucking him in deeper. “You want me to make you come, huh, baby? All over me?”

You nodded, biting your lip when you heard the sounds of footsteps right outside the door of the small room you were in. “Yes,” you answer in a whisper. “I want it so bad, Hayden. Please.”

He moaned at the sound of you begging for him to make you come, your words only fueling his desire for you. “I want it, too, princess,” he rasped, pressing you impossibly closer to the wall. “I want to feel you, all over me. I want it everywhere, make it messy.”

You cry out as you come, clamping down tightly around him as you squeezed your eyes shut. You pull him towards you with a hand placed on the back of his head, and he nuzzles his face against your neck. 

As he continued to fuck into you, the sounds of your wet walls still taking him was all that could be heard, mixed with your whimpers and his grunts. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed about it, and Hayden had never let you feel embarrassed about it, as he loved how worked up he got you everytime. 

“You hear that, baby?” He asked, grinning at the way your core noisily took him in. “Hear how fucking needy I made you? How good I made you feel?” 

You nodded, whimpering softly when his hips began to slow, indicating that he was close, too. “Please, Hayden,” you beg quietly, your hands moving to gently run up his back. “I want you to come for me. Let me feel you, right in here.” 

You press your palm to your lower stomach, feeling the movement of him inside you pushing back against your hand. His jaw went slack as he looked down at your abdomen, seeing the faintest outline of himself deep within you. “Baby,” he choked out, speeding up just slightly and taking in the quiet whine you let out due to your sensitivity. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come.”

“Please,” you encourage him, clenching hard around him to coax out his release. “I want you to, need to feel it.”

Hayden lets out a throaty groan as his hips meet yours for the final time before he is spilling into you. Heavy pants leave his mouth as he slowly pulls out before pushing back in, making sure his come reached the deepest part of you. 

He looked up at you with hooded eyes, a tired grin on his lips. “We just got here and I’m already exhausted,”

You laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Don’t wear yourself out too much,” you say, smoothing out his messy hair. “You need to focus on not crashing tonight.”

“Says you,” he teased, keeping himself buried in you as he peppered your lips with kisses. “You’re the one who crashed the night I met you.”

Rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into an embrace. “But look where that got me in the end,”

Hayden grinned against your neck, lifting his head to place a lingering kiss to your mouth. “Where you belong,” he murmured. “With me. I love you.”

“I love you,” 

Before any further words could be shared between you, the voice of the announcer came through the speaker. “Drivers numbers five and thirty four, please report to the maintenance garage for the team meeting,” 

You laughed against his mouth, the faintest hint of a blush spreading across your face as Hayden finally set you down, a lazy grin on his own lips as he bent down to retrieve his hat from off the floor. 

-

After the standard team meeting you had to do before going onto the track, Hayden kept his hand on your lower back as he guided you towards your car, his other holding onto his neon helmet. His own car was further down the line as he would be starting closer to the middle, while you’ll be starting on the outside of the first row. 

Walking you to your car before every race had become a natural routine for Hayden. It allowed him to see you one last time before he was on the track, and also gave him the opportunity to trash talk you a bit just for fun. 

He leaned against the side of your car as you pulled back the netting, watching as you lifted yourself up and slid in through the window. “Don’t crash,” he says as he leans down to level his head with yours. “Everyone knows how good you are at doing that. Show them something different for once.”

Even though you hadn’t had a serious crash since the one you were in on the night you met him, he still loved to tease you about it, despite him knowing just how good of a driver you actually are. “Haha,” you reply in a flat tone. “Funny you say that since you’ve spent every Saturday training with me since we met.”

He just shakes his head, grabbing your red helmet from off the top of your car. “Good luck, princess,” he said with a smile, handing it to you through the window. 

“Good luck,” you say back, moving to kiss him quickly when he dipped his head further down. He fixes the netting on the window frame before heading towards his own car, his nerves rising as he hears the loud cheers of the fans. 

Though he was good at hiding it, he still got nervous before every race, but his adrenaline usually overpowered it. Ever since he met you, he had become even more nervous about racing. Not only did he have himself to worry about on the track, but he now had you to worry about as well.

Sure, you were a great driver and hadn’t spun out in months, he still worried that the other drivers would grow sick of always being behind you and do something to get the advantage. While you never cared to get to know the other drivers, Hayden took the time to speak to a few of them, and the ones he spoke to were aggressive both on and off the track.

That was to be expected, though, as most racers only did this to let out some steam and frustration, while Hayden and you did it for fun. 

The stands were packed, he noticed, when he was finally told he could pull out onto the track. There were only three races left of the season before the track closed for the winter, so it wasn’t too surprising to see that there were no empty spaces on the bleachers. 

These last few races were well-anticipated, and they counted the most out of all of them because it would be the last time the drivers got to do this until the beginning of next summer. 

The first race went well, with Hayden finishing in first and you in third, and the second one went even better, with Hayden in first again and you in second. The finale was next, and they would be pulling the best drivers from the first and second heats. Of course, you were both picked. 

As the season went on, the races became more intense. For this final race, it would consist of twenty laps and eighteen cars in total, both from the bone stocks and the late models. It was a little nerve wracking, especially since Hayden was put in the fourth row from the front on the inside, and he didn’t know where you were.

You had to be somewhere behind him, but not knowing just how far was making him feel uneasy. He always liked having you in his sights, so to not know where you were was not calming his racing heart.

He had never been involved in this big of a race before. The most he’s ever taken part in is fourteen cars and that’s it. He knew this was new for you, as well, and he knew you had to be just as anxious as he was. 

After following the pace truck for a few laps, the driver pulled off into the infield and the race began. 

It was intense at first, but Hayden regained his control and was able to secure a spot in second place. As he kept up a steady pace, he did his best to glance behind him in hopes to catch a glimpse of you. It was hard to do, seeing as he had a helmet on, a net over the window, and had to make sure he didn’t go off the track, but he couldn’t help it. 

He glanced back a few times and didn’t see you, making him a bit worried that you had been placed too far behind to be able to catch up in time. It was so like them to put the good drivers further back to give the less experienced drivers a fair chance. Hayden himself once had to go from last place to first in a twenty lap race, and it was a tough thing to do. 

As he went around one of the turns, he finally caught sight of your red and white Ford, and he felt like he could relax a bit now and focus on his driving. You were a few cars behind him, and as he passed the speakers, he heard the announcer say that you had gone from thirteenth to fifth. 

He also heard him say the name of the driver behind him, Ian Mackey.

Hayden had never heard of the guy before, so he was left to come to the conclusion that Ian was from the late model heat. He was proven right when he looked back and saw the kind of car this guy was driving. 

He also noticed just how aggressive he was. Ian was pretty much tailgating Hayden, which was a bit unnecessary at this point because they were reaching the twelfth lap now, and most of the cars were decently spread out on the track. 

As he sped up a bit, Hayden was once again beginning to feel nervous about the fact that you were back there with this aggressive guy. 

Surprisingly enough, Ian did nothing to stop you as you passed him and drove behind Hayden. It should’ve made an alarm go off in your head, but you weren’t aware of how he was driving before you passed him. 

It was somewhat calm for the next few laps, until you reached the seventeenth. While you were going around the corner, Ian, instead of trailing behind you like he had been doing for the past few minutes now, drove straight in an attempt to cut you off.

There was a reason no one ever attempted to pass when turning, and this was exactly why. 

The front of his car hit the back of yours hard and the sudden impact had you powerless to do anything as you tried to correct, but the damage had been done. You knew better than to slam on the brakes, but before you could even do that, you were upside down and felt every hit of your body against the interior of the car. 

Your head was pounding and your vision was blurry, but you were granted the gift of feeling nothing at all when your car slammed into the barriers, rightside up, but badly damaged. Your body went numb and your head was spinning before you let it fall back against the seat, your eyes falling shut as you listened to the sound of cars speeding past you fade out. 

Hayden, who had heard the whole thing but hadn’t seen it, felt his heart drop when he caught sight of the smoke and dust that formed behind him. He wasn’t sure who exactly had been hit, but when he went around the other corner and saw that it was you, he felt his blood run cold. 

He barely pulled off to the side before he was ripping the netting off the frame and tossing his helmet somewhere in his car. He pulled himself out through the window and sprinted across the track, his ears ringing as the other drivers had to swerve to avoid hitting him. 

The red flag was held up and the other cars slowed to a stop on various parts of the track when he finally reached you. A couple of men from the clean up crew were already there and had pulled the netting off the window. He could briefly hear them trying to talk to you, but you weren’t responding.

“Get her out,” Hayden yelled at them as he watched one of the guys reach into your car to unclip the seatbelt. “Get her out of there, now!”

“Calm down, Christensen,” another guy said, stepping back when Hayden pushed away the comforting hand he tried to place on his shoulder. “We can’t pull her out until the paramedics get over here.”

Hayden shook his head and ran his hand through his slightly damp hair, but that was when he caught sight of Ian, whose car was a few metres behind yours and had undoubtedly caused the whole thing. “You motherfuck-” Hayden was pulled back once the crew guy caught onto the fact that he was on his way over to Ian. The man, whose name tag read Nick, grabbed Hayden’s shoulders and hauled him away from Ian, who almost looked proud at what he caused. 

“Cut it out, Hayden,” Nick tried to say, but he wasn’t having it. 

“You fucking asshole,” Hayden yelled while Nick guided him further away. “You fucking-” he cut himself off and held onto Nick’s arms when he felt his knees almost give out as he watched the paramedics lift you out of your totaled car. 

You still had your helmet on, but your hands were bruised and had spots of blood all over them, and your eyes were closed. They set you gently down on the ground as the other paramedics worked on getting the stretcher out, and Hayden finally found his footing as he ran the few steps over to you. 

He fell to his knees, surely ripping a hole or two into his jumpsuit, and grabbed your left hand in his. “Y/n,” he said desperately, heating up at the many eyes on him, and from the bright spotlights that had been turned on since it was nearing ten at night. He tuned out the voices of the fans and the flashing lights of the tow trucks around him as he tried to get you to open your eyes. “Baby.”

He could see from the visor part of your helmet that your face was a bit bloody, but nothing could’ve prepared him for when they slowly removed the helmet from your head. 

Your lower lip was busted and it was clear that your teeth had gone through it, probably on impact, and your nose was shedding a steady stream of blood. There were a few scrapes scattered all over your face, all of which were also bleeding, and he could barely see your actual skin tone through all of the redness. 

He shared a look with the paramedic, who looked beyond concerned at your current state, and that did not help Hayden stay any calmer as he gripped your hand even tighter. “Y/n,” he called out to you again, his heart going into overdrive when you still didn’t answer him. “Talk to me, baby, please.” He begged but to no avail. 

He stood up when a neck brace was placed around you and watched as they lifted you onto the stretcher. They took you into the back of the ambulance, and Hayden took the time to observe the state of your car. The back end was caved in from the impact of Ian’s car, and there were several large dents that pretty much told everyone that there was no fixing it. 

There was a big dent on the driver’s side door, and despite the multiple layers of steel that were built in to prevent it from harming the driver, all the layers were pushed into the car, meaning you had most likely been impaled by the sharp metal.

“Oh, fuck,” he heard the paramedic say, making Hayden turn to look over at him as they stood over your body. Your jumpsuit was unzipped and pulled down to bunch around your waist, and the white tee you were wearing underneath was stained red. “We need to get her to the hospital.”

His eyes widened at that and when the man gestured for Hayden to get into the ambulance with them, he never moved so quickly in his life as he hauled himself up and sat next to you.

He completely abandoned the rest of the race to go with you to the hospital, but he was sure it would have gotten cancelled, anyway, due to the extreme damage that had been done.

Hayden took your left hand in both of his once again as they hooked up your right arm to an IV, his eyes flickering all over your face. 

His heart was beating a million miles a minute as he watched the slow rise and fall of your chest. “Stay with me,” he pleaded quietly, afraid to touch you anywhere other than your hand right now. 

He tore his eyes away from your face when they pulled your shirt up and exposed the puncture wound on your ribcage. That had to have been from the metal of the door, and he was sure if he looked hard enough, he would have seen blood in both your car and on the padding of your helmet. 

“How much further?” He asked, his voice breaking as he tried to keep his tears at bay. 

“Less than ten minutes,” the man answered, but that was too long.

You needed help, now, but what could he do?

Nothing.

He just held your hand up to his mouth, not caring that your blood now coated his lips due to the shaky kiss he pressed to your skin. 

-

You were met with bland walls and a dull ache in your head when you opened your eyes. The lights in the room were dimmed, but it still caused the dull ache to progress into what felt like a migraine. 

When you lifted your hand, you noticed the pulse oximeter that was clipped onto your index finger. You try to sit up, but immediately stop when you feel a pain shoot through your body. 

Your torso was itchy and it felt like there was a bandage wrapped around your ribs, but you didn’t bother trying to scratch at it, too scared to feel that sudden jolt of pain again. 

Your face was sore, too, and you could see the red scrapes on your cheeks through your reflection in the window next to the bed. It was dark out, so it must be somewhere between twelve and four AM, but that was about all you could guess.

As you settle back down, you look to your left and that is when you finally notice Hayden. He was sitting on a chair next to the bed you were on, still covered by his racing jumpsuit, and his head was next to your thigh. Even though he was sleeping, he still looked distressed, and you reached your hand up to run your fingers through his hair.

It was also then when you noticed the diamond ring that had recently been placed on your finger. You gasp quietly, lifting your hand again to get a better look at it. “Hayden,” you rasped, but it was loud enough to wake him up. 

He sat up and met your eye, and you could see the relief that flooded through him, before his gaze settled on your hand. “This isn’t how I wanted to ask you,” he trailed off, taking your hand in his. His fingers were stained with a bit of dried blood, and you could only assume it was yours. “I wanted to ask you after the race, but here we are.”

Your eyes stung as you tried to take in everything. “What happened?”

Hayden pressed a kiss to the back of your hand before hesitantly answering you, “There was an accident,” he began, meeting your eye again and you noticed the tears that gathered along his waterline. “It was a pretty serious crash. You were hit hard and I guess your car flipped a couple times before it slammed into the barrier.” 

You tried to think back to that, but could only remember bits and pieces. When you really thought about it, you could briefly remember feeling the impact of Ian’s car, and the way your body hit every metal bar that was inside your own car, but nothing else after that. 

“Before you ask, it’s totaled,” Hayden said and you felt your heart deflate at that. “But that is the last thing that should be on your mind.”

He broke eye contact and stared down at your joined fingers, his lip quivering in a way that told you he was barely holding on right now. “Hayden,” you murmur, moving your right hand to grab his free one. “It’s okay.”

But he just shook his head, the movement making a tear fall from his eye. “It’s not,” he muttered. “You have no idea about all the things that were running through my head when I saw you get pulled out of your car. Your eyes were closed and you were bleeding pretty much all over-” he cut himself off when he felt his throat begin to tighten.

Your eyes burn as you hold back your own tears, holding his hand as tightly as you could. When you went to bite down on your lip to stifle your cry, you wince when you taste the unmistakable bitterness of blood. Running your tongue over your lip, you felt how swollen it was, and you were sure you looked like a train wreck. “Hayden,” you tried again, but you were at a loss for words. “I…fuck.”

He continues to relive the nightmare of seeing you covered in your own blood and unresponsive as you lie on the track. “I was so fucking scared,” he confessed. “All the jokes I made before about you crashing suddenly felt so…real. They weren’t jokes anymore. I tried getting you to talk to me, but you weren’t awake, you weren’t answering me. I have never felt that terrified on a track before in my entire life.”

Tears fell from his eyes and that was all it took for your own to spill over. “Come here,” you requested quietly, gesturing for him to get onto the bed with you. 

He just shook his head, not wanting to move you in any way until you were given the okay by the doctor. “No, princess, I could hurt you, I-”

“Hayden, come here,” you cut him off, trying to pull him up from the chair, but that was a lost cause. “Please. I need you.”

And unsurprisingly, Hayden was quick to give in to you. He stood from the chair and moved so he was sitting next to you on the bed, but you took it a step further by pulling him back so he was propped against the pillow. You moved so you were laying half on his chest and half on the bed, ignoring the dull pain in your ribcage. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you mumbled, bunching up the fabric of his jumpsuit in your fist. “I hate that I put you through that, but I’m okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

Hayden nodded and gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders, wanting to say a lot more but also knowing you needed to rest. There would be time to talk later. “I need to let the doctor know that you’re awake,” he says after a few minutes. 

You hum, eyeing the ring on your finger before you grin, the pull on your lip making you repress a grunt of pain. “In a minute,” you say, lifting your head so you were looking up at him. “I think you have something to ask me, first.”

When you wiggle your finger at him, Hayden’s conflicted expression drops and he pulls you closer to him. “You’re right,” he turned the ring on your finger a few times before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you, pretty girl. I have since the moment I met you. I know this is probably the least romantic proposal anyone has ever done, but I can’t wait any longer.”

Hayden really hated the fact that he was asking you to marry him while you were confined to a hospital bed. He was sure you expected a much bigger and better gesture than this, one where you were wearing a fancy dress instead of an unflattering gown that he still thinks you look hot in - especially since he could see the faint hickeys he left on you earlier peeking out from the collar of the gown.

You smile up at him, urging him to continue when he pauses for a few seconds.

“Y/n,” he says quietly, turning the ring one more so the diamond reflects off the dim light above the bed. “I want to spend the rest of my life by your side and doing the thing we both love. The thing that brought us together. Well, once we fix you up a new car. I’m sorry, but yours is fucked.”

You laugh and sit up a bit. “You’re still okay with me racing after this?”

Hayden shrugs. “I can’t tell you to give up on doing what you love, even if the thought of this happening again terrifies me,” he mutters under his breath. “We’ll do it together, just like how we’ve done it the last seven months. Now, before I forget to ask, will you marry me?” 

Grinning, you lean up and press your sore lips to his. “You really didn’t need to ask,” you tease, resting your head back on his chest. “Waking up with an engagement ring on my finger was more than enough.”

“Seriously?” He groans, leaning down to rest his chin on the top of your head. “You’re such a tease, you know that?”

“I know,” you say in response, closing your eyes when you feel him press a kiss to your temple. 

While you still weren’t sure of how serious your injuries are, you knew you’d be just fine. Hayden seemed more than willing to help nurse you back to health and even help you get back on the track when you were ready for it. 

You couldn’t ask for a better person to spend your life with.

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen smut #sw anakin #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #ride with me series

[harlowsbby]

i have a request where reader who’s a singer and jack are dating but he’s never affectionate to her and he never spends time with her so he’s always spending his time at clubs and strip clubs but he never really cheats and his friends are always telling him he has the best girl he can find but he’s too blind to see how good he really has it with her but she breaks up with him and months after the break up she comes out with the song “Not another love song” by mariah the scientist and jack realizes he misses her more than ever but she over him already and chooses herself in the end🫶🏼

Keep you in mind

( I kinda switched it up if you don’t mind )

He never deserved you he never did, that’s what everyone ever told you or that’s what you read online through the blogs and other social media platforms.

You thought Jack loved you and adored you and treasured what the two of you had but in reality he didn’t, he could care less about you and every single thing he lied and hid about all eventually came to the light.

Whenever you looked at Jack you saw someone who could do no wrong you painted this image that he was the man of your dreams but he was far from it.

————————————————————————

Rolling over in your shared bed with Jack you smiled seeing him fast asleep, some mornings you’d wake up before him and just watch him sleep.

You loved admiring him he always looked so peaceful and at ease. Most of the time he was running around and doing who knows what. You caressed his chest softly, drawing random shapes on his bare chest and watching his chest rise and fall.

“You know if you’re gonna watch me sleep baby at least don’t be creepy with it.” Jack spoke causing to jump slightly not expecting for him to be awake. “How long have you been awake for?”

He opened his right one and looked at you with a smirk displayed on his lips. “I’d say long enough to know that you definitely do fart.” He laughed while you hid your face in his chest from embarrassment.

“Don’t be all embarrassed now I heard you loud and clear.” “Jack stop that’s embarrassing!” You yelled and lifted your head from his chest. “It was cute baby and it’s normal so stop hiding it.” He joked but you rolled your eyes and went to lean back into his touch but he quickly got up.

You frowned and sighed he never really showed you any type of affection so you were never really fazed by it but sometimes it did get to you. Especially late night at the clubs Neelam or your friend Chloe would be snuggled up to their men while you’d be shivering, cleaning on the club wall waiting for the Uber to arrive while Jack talked and took pictures with fans.

“So, what are we doing today? I was thinking maybe drive around and get some coffee and just have lunch somewhere.” You watched Jack grab his toothbrush and start brushing his teeth.

“Or we can just go see Clay and Urban we haven’t seen them in a few days.” Once he finished brushing his teeth he came out the bathroom. “Actually babe I have to go to the studio for a few hours and then I have to fly off to Vegas for that club appearance.”

“When will you be home then?” You watched with sad eyes as he grabbed his suitcase and packed a few outfits and some of his essentials. “I’m not really sure baby but don’t wait up okay? I’ll be back pretty late.” He walked over to you and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before grabbing his things and leaving.

“Well I guess it’s just me.” Mumbling to yourself before flopping back into the bed. Sometimes you wish you’d talk to Jack and tell him how you really felt but you knew that would result into an argument.

Maybe he’d change eventually but that’s something that you’re constantly telling yourself but the reality of it was that he wasn’t changing and wasn’t planning on it.

————————————————————————

“Jack you’re a fool man.” “He really is if I had a women like Y/N waiting on me at home I’d never be outside.” Jack was laid up at the club he had just finished his performance and decided to stay for a bit longer instead of just going right back home.

“Are you all still going on about Y/N? I promise you all she’s fine and she isn’t going anywhere.” Jack knew that for a fact, you were stuck on him like glue and no matter how absent he was in this relationship he knew you weren’t going anywhere.

“How do you know that? Maybe one day she’ll wake up and get tired of all your late night adventures.” Clay was right and even though Jack was his brother he considered you family and he hated the way his brother was so absent in your relationship.

You loved affection and receiving as well as giving love and affection you hated the way it felt so one sided, even on days that Jack was home he wasn’t really home. He’d be done somewhere or upstairs sleeping the day away. He’d be sleep and you’d be awake and when you’re sleeping he’s awake.

You always had to contribute to his lack of effort and you knew it was best the two of you went your separate ways, your heart was wanting and needing more but your heart belonged to Jack.

“Why are you putting all of this negative energy in the air? It’s like you all want her to leave.” It got quiet everyone took sips from their drinks not really having a response. “So it’s like that? When I wanna do me it’s an issue?” Jack was now getting defensive not because he was mad but because he knew everything they were saying was true.

“We’re not saying that but maybe loving someone else just isn’t for you right now, Y/N deserves someone who’s physically there and locked in just like her. She doesn’t need an absent partner.” With that everyone walked away from the booth leaving Jack alone.

He was no longer in the mood to party the only thing on his mind right now was you.

————————————————————————

“This is a really depressing song don’t you think?” Your manger and friend Kira all came over that night, the three of you were going over which song would be your latest single for your upcoming album.

“It’s depressing yes but it speaks volumes.” You expressed and went and played back your song ‘Not A Love Song’. Kira and Alex bopped along to the song.

“What’s the meaning behind this song?” Alex looked up at you. “Basically it’s just about a women feeling as if her partner isn’t putting enough effort and that she’s always filling up the empty pieces in their relationship.” Alex watched you intensely. “How did this song come about?”

“Alex, come on let’s just go over the cover art.” You went to take the laptop from her but she pulled it back. “Y/N.” She said in a threatening tone, you sighed there was no use of lying. “Jack was the inspiration, we just well he doesn’t spend time with me anymore I feel like I’m the only one trying.”

“Have you talked about this with him?” Kira took your hand and rubbed smoothing circles on the back of your hand. “No what’s the point he won’t listen he’s always out and on the road and honestly I just can’t.” You stopped yourself.

“Can’t what babe?” With quivering lips you looked up at the both of them. “I can’t.. I can’t do this anymore I need to choose me because in the end it’ll only be me.”

————————————————————————-

Jack was on his way back home after Nemo pulled him to the side and talked to him about how the way he was treating you he had to admit he was wrong.

He loved you dearly and truly and didn’t want things to end between the two of you. He tried texting and calling a few times but never got an answer from you.

“She’s probably sleeping in I saw on Alex’s story that they were up late at some bar.” It was true you were all at a bar but only because you were attempting to drink your pain and emotions away.

“Yeah she probably is, I hope she likes the flowers I got her and honestly I hope she hears me out.” Nemo shrugged his shoulders, “I hope she does man.”

When they pulled up to the driveway Jack thanked Nemo for giving him a ride. He was nervous but just prayed that everything will go smooth.

Upon opening the front door he was met with a cold breeze making him shiver. “Baby? Are you up, why is it so cold.” The hairs on the back of his neck stood up from the coldness. “Babe?” He slowly made his way upstairs.

“Y/N, are you fucking around with me or what.” He grinned but the grin quickly faded when he saw not only the somewhat empty bedroom but the empty closet ad well and a note attached to his side of the bed.

Dear Jack

- you know I’ll always love you and support you but I think it’s time we start loving one another a few feet apart. Lately I’ve been feeling like this relationship is one sided and a break might be needed and hopefully when the time is right we’ll reunite.

- Love Y/N.

“So she really left me.” He mumbled to himself and flopped down on the mattress. He felt defeated like he let not only you down but what the two of you had. Maybe the two of you didn’t deserve a love but instead a poem that described how everything went wrong.

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n

[d4rkhold]

times have(n't) changed

Link to the second/final chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/d4rkhold/706693383516749824

OVERVIEW: Larissa has something she'd like to ask Morticia after all those years since they went to Nevermore together.

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

“Do you care to truthfully explain why I’m here?” She studied her nails which were black and glossy, just like her long hair that cascaded down to her lower back. 

Larissa had her hands clasped together on the surface of her empty desk, which was usually cluttered with paperwork and letters. Her former roommate sat on the other side, wearing a dress that was dark as night with a plunging neckline that was almost a little bit improper to show off when visiting a school. 

“Were you always this inquisitive, Addams?” Larissa raised an eyebrow. “I don’t recall that you were.” She leered at the woman who sat across from her. Her large brown oak desk separated the two of them like a barricade between two worlds — a trifling contrast between the light and the dark, each respective one in a contest against the other to see who could fill the room up with their presence first. 

Morticia neatly placed both of her hands on top of her knees and allowed a subtle smirk to form on her lips. “Times have changed, darling.” Larissa pursed her lips in response. 

“Now do tell. I don’t have all day.” Morticia suddenly spoke sternly. “Sending us a letter saying that Wednesday was failing some of her classes was almost laughable. My daughter is an excellent student; she doesn’t fail.” 

“Fine.” The blonde woman straightened her back and kept her gaze firm on the woman sitting opposite her. “Do you remember the week during the Rave’n when we went to school together?”

“Larissa, I don’t have time for taking trips down memory lane. You are ridiculous.” The raven-haired woman stood up abruptly, chest slightly heaving as a result of her annoyance towards the other woman’s blatant attempt at reminiscing.

She wondered where Larissa was going with this. Could it be? Did she know the truth about what happened that night? What if she knew it was actually her who had killed Garett Gates and not Gomez? If she knew the truth, who knew what sort of blackmail she could have against her? The Addams family already had many eyebrows raised at them for their “unusual” and “weird” behaviours, but having a scandal that was buried almost 30 years ago, come back to haunt them would be troubling to have in the present. 

When Morticia did not speak, the blonde carried on. “I always wondered if you would have said yes to me if I wasn’t so slow and meek that week.” 

Morticia tilted her head in confusion and opened her mouth to question the other woman, but Larissa had simply held up a finger, gesturing to the woman not to speak just yet. 

“What I mean is,” She cleared her throat. “If I had asked you before Gomez did….” Larissa trailed off, hoping that Morticia now understood what she was referring to. 

Morticia stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity. The only noise that could be heard in the principal’s office was the crackling of the fireplace and the gentle gusts of wind that tapped against the window occasionally. 

The lack of speech, of reprimanding — of anything, in that very moment, made Larissa suddenly regret being so vulnerable to the other woman. At present, she wished she could just dissolve into sweat and blood to seep through the cracks of the floor where she wouldn’t have to wait for a response from her former roommate. 

No one spoke — not even the principal, who was suffering in the silence. She feared she had reached her limit of allowing such words to come out of her mouth. Such a price to pay for my own insolence, Larissa thought to herself. 

Morticia slowly rounded to the side where the blonde was sitting. Larissa’s eyes tracked her every movement as the woman gracefully moved towards her. She had lost count of how long the silence had infected the air in the vast office of hers they were in. It was almost starting to choke her. 

She stood in front of the blonde and allowed her right hand to rest outstretched on the oak desk. The proximity between the two women was not inappropriate, but it was close enough for Larissa to have the air in her chest temporarily freeze. Morticia stood there, looming over Nevermore’s principal with a curious look in her eyes. 

Dark brown irises bore into blue; there was a moment of almost ‘unfamiliarity’ that lingered while the two women looked at each other as if they were trying to search for a door that led to the past where they would both find familiar ground.

From Larissa’s angle, she noted how the luminescent licks of flames from the fireplace outlined the gentle curves of the woman standing in front of her. The floodgates in her mind had failed,  and improper thoughts of her and Morticia swam to the surface; it was as if she were a teenager again, unavailingly longing for the dark-haired woman. 

Larissa sat unmoving while her fingers twitched on the armrests of the chair. A thought spurred into her mind: her pulling the other woman into her lap. She resisted the urge to act on such an intrusive thought. How appropriate of you, Weems, she scolded herself in thought. 

However, Morticia could read the woman below her like an open book — she was always able to — even back in the day. She had known if Larissa was lying or hiding a secret; they co-existed together for many years, and it was hard not to know each other almost inside and out. Or alternatively, it could’ve just been that Larissa was never any good at concealing her emotions. 

Morticia brought a hand to Larissa’s face, gently raking her long nails against her soft skin. She could tell that the woman below was trying so hard to appear strong and unmoved by the gesture, but sometimes, even the strongest soldiers were defeated. 

The ‘strongest’ does not always mean that something can’t be broken. It just takes relatively more time and effort to tear down — and Morticia prided herself in being good at doing that. 

“My dear, Larissa.” Morticia’s voice almost dropped to a low whisper. “Is this what you’ve been longing for?” Larissa’s eyes widened in shock at her words.

Morticia threw her head back and brutally laughed. “I mean, for closure, that is.” 

Larissa parted her lips as if she was about to respond but suddenly felt something rest on her bottom lip. Her chest started to heave at twice the pace it was before. 

Morticia’s thumb had snaked its way onto the blonde’s mouth, her pale digit basking on red lipstick. The two women had not broken eye contact; it was almost as if they were competing to see who would surrender first. 

When they went to school together, Larissa felt she was always in Morticia’s shadow. She felt as if she was constantly competing against the other woman, but no matter her efforts, she would always end up in second place. 

Larissa gazed darkly at the woman above her, parting her lips more to allow Morticia’s digit greater entrance into her mouth. 

It seems that times don’t really change after all. 

#wednesday #morticia addams #larissa weems #wednesday 2022 #morticia x larissa #morticia addams x larissa weems #morissa #wednesday netflix #catherine zeta-jones #gwendoline christie #larissa x morticia

[lily-174]

domestic - jay halstead x reader.

overview: a case hit you hard resulting in you having to talk to a witness which made you give up some information on yourself no one in the team knew about, you and jay end up talking about it and he comforts you.

trigger warning: domestic violence, parental abuse, verbal abuse. i needed to write this for myself, something just happened and i needed jay.

i appreciate all of you who take the time to read my fics, i love you all so much and i wish you all the best <3

chicago pd masterlist

**

this case had hit you hard, harder then you thought. domestic abuse, parental abuse those cases were always the ones that hit the hardest for you. they put a strain on your heart. relating to every child or woman that you had to interview.

now this case you, your boyfriend and team were working on hurt, a kid, around 10 had been found in the middle of chicago alone by kim and roman who were out on patrol, the two beat cops had a bad feeling and asked you to look into it, you abliged not having any other cases. after speaking to the young girl you went straight to voight, her father had left her to go to the bar completely forgetting about the young girl he’d left alone on the streets of chicago.

voight agreed to look into it so now, you were sat in a room with the young girl after making her a hot chocolate and giving her some things to snack on you sat across the table to her, the rest of your team watching the interaction. you needed to know if it was safe to send the child home. you had a feeling it wasn’t. you knew these cases like the back of your hand, you could read the body language of abuse victims in seconds.

you’d noticed the way the little girl shut down near jay or voight, you knew. these cases hurt you. you watched the facial expressions of the young girl sat opposite you as jay walked into the room. the look of fear on the girls face as you watched her shake her head you ordered jay out of the room so you could ask her some questions alone so she felt safer.

“do i really have to explain it?” the young girl izzy asked as she looked up at you, the pain in her eyes hurt you reminded you of everything you went through as a child and through your teen years. you really wanted to help the poor 8 year old but you couldn’t unless she spoke to you.

“i’d appreciate it if you did, i can help you. and your family” kevin and al had already made their way to speak to the parents, kevin had messaged you saying he got bad vibes from the father and the mother had bruising around her neck. there was no doubt in your mind this little girl was experiencing what you had.

“you can help?” izzy asked, her voice soft and quiet as if scared to speak aloud, you nodded giving her a comforting look, you wanted her to feel safe while she was with you.

“i can help izzy, i understand. things happened in my family when i was a kid” izzy’s demeanour changed as you finished that sentence, like what you said had installed her with an ounce of hope.

“your dad used to hurt you too?” she asked her little eyes brimming with tears, you knew your boyfriend and colleagues where listening from the other room but you didn’t care, you only cared about the young girl infront of you that reminded you too much of yourself. you just wanted this little girl to feel like she wasn’t alone, like there was hope that things would get better.

“yeah izzy he did, but i’m a cop now. and i get to help people” izzy nodded, and you finally managed to get her to explain the abuse her dad puts the poor girl and her mother through, you knew after she explained the guys would’ve left the room and gone to charge izzy’s father and finish conducting the interview with him. but you stayed with the young girl you related to her too much, it was like looking through a mirror and seeing your younger self. all you thought about in that moment was keeping her safe and trying to keep her happy for the short amount of time you were looking after her.

you spent the rest of your time with her playing games showing her around the district to pass the time before social services would come and pick her up, normally she’d be sent down stairs and trudy would watch her but this time you wanted to make sure she was safe and happy enough before she left the district so that’s what you did, letting the rest of your team handle her father unsure if you had the self restraint not to punch him in the face.

when you had to take her downstairs and hand her over to a social worker, you didn’t want too. you felt attached to the young girl. giving her a hug before she left and making sure she felt left before she went with the social worker, you did what you wished someone would’ve done for you as a child. you wished throughout your childhood or teen years someone could’ve saved you.

you sighed watching izzy leave with the nice lady before making your way back up to intelligence, only adam and kev sat at their desks while everyone else clearly interviewing izzy’s mother and father. you walked past the two men sat at their desks and made your way to the locker room, your chest tightened as you got into the private room. some of the emotions from the day finally emerged.

izzy reminded you so much of yourself and what happened to you, no one knew what happened to you apart from voight he met you when you turned 19 he got your record expunged so you could join the police department. but your boyfriend, he had no idea you’d told him your parents moved to california that’s why he never met them but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

sitting on the bench by your locker your head in your hands as you prepared yourself to go back out to your desk and begin writing the report explaining everything izzy had told you. you couldn’t help but think back to your childhood the beatings the constant verbal abuse, being your dad therapist, looking after him after fights and saving his life multiple times. you knew you could easily find the photos of you taken in hospital the multiple times the abuse caused you to be hospitalised.

taking a deep breath you stood up, walking over to the small sink and splashing cold water over your face in hopes of getting rid of the memories. it didn’t work, they played over and over in your head as you walked back to your desk and sat down writing your report. before long the rest of the team returned to the bullpen you heard them walk in but you hadn’t looked up from the paperwork you were filling out in hopes you could just get this day over with.

“how’s the kid?” voight asked causing you to look up from the paperwork you were doing, you knew she’d struggle for the rest of her life like you had but hopefully you had made her suffering end for a while.

“she’s okay, social worker just picked her up so apart from being completely traumatised for the rest of her life physically she’s okay” you stated bluntly before looking back down to your paperwork to continue filling out the form with everything izzy had told you, voight nodded but jay was surprised with your answer.

it was only 4pm you had hours left of your shift but hopefully you wouldn’t be given another case so you could go home when you were supposed too. you even thought about going to mollys to destress. you couldn’t get izzy out of your thoughts, she reminded you so much of yourself.

jay noticed you not engaging in everyone’s conversation as the team started their paperwork, if you being honest you were so consumed by your thoughts you didn’t even notice they were all talking.

jay was curious, you’d never told him about your parents. he didn’t want to pressure you, but he wanted to know more, he wanted to know why you hadn’t told him the truth he’d noticed how these types of cases effected you more then others but he’d never put the pieces together, walking up to your desk you didn’t even look up at him.

“y/n you good?” he asked causing you to look up at him, the concern in his eyes was enough for you to know you’d have to let up some details of what happened when you were a kid when you and jay spoke later.

“yeah i’m good just wanna finish this so we can go home” you offered a small smile, in an attempt of convincing him you were all good, but it was jay he didn’t believe you. he nodded and walked back over to his desk.

you returned to your paperwork, filling out the other half of what needed to be done before logging on to the computer infront of you to send a few emails, including to the social worker offering your services if izzy needs anything or if she can’t get a foster placement you’d either take her or help find one. you didn’t care that it was unprofessional to do so. you wished someone would have been there for you so you promised yourself if izzy needed anything you’d be there for her, you didn’t even need to have a second thought or ask anyone for their opinion. you knew what you wanted to do. and that was be there for izzy. just as you finished your paperwork and emails voight emerged from his office.

“if you’re done with your paperwork head out, i don’t see anymore cases coming in today.” voight stated everyone nodded, you were done so standing up and grabbing your coat you began saying your goodbyes to your colleagues.

“i’ll be done in five i’ll come with you” jay stated not even asking where you were going or what your plans were maybe the conversation you dreaded was closer then you thought. nodding you took the keys for his truck from his desk and made your way downstairs.

heading outside you opened the truck getting in the passenger side to wait for jay, normally you liked to get public transport home from work. it helped you clear your head, you could drive but jay was your partner and boyfriend so it never really mattered. you glanced down at your phone waiting for jay to get back and when he finally did you heard him sigh as he got in the truck.

“mollys?” jay asked getting an almost instant nod from you he smiled as you handed him the keys and turned on the engine, you hoped he’d hold off on the questions until you at least had a drink in your hand.

the ride over to mollys was silent, not an awkward silence. your chest was tight from anxiety. it’s not like you specifically never wanted to tell jay about this aspect of your past you just weren’t sure if you were ready to talk about it or relive it yourself. you knew you’d eventually have to tell him but you didn’t realise it would be so soon. you spent the ride to mollys thinking of what you would say when he asked you.

you were mostly over it but some of the things you went through as a kid did still haunt you, and you were terrified of jay looking at you differently, looking at you like a victim. that’s what scared you. you were not a victim. you knew jay wouldn’t mean to look at you like that but you knew he would wether he meant it or not. he loved you and what came with that was concern for you especially after cases like this especially after finding out you’d been hiding something from him.

pulling up outside mollys you and jay both got out the truck walking inside mollys, still silent not a word had been spoken, jay held the door for you as you walked inside, thanking him was the words that broke the silence as you walked up to the end of the bar and took a seat, jay sitting next to you and ordering two beers from herrmann before turning to look at you.

“you’ve been quiet since izzy left are you okay?” jay asked testing the waters seeing how you were feeling and if this was a good time to ask, he wouldn’t pressure you to help him anything but he’d appreciate it if you told him what happened.

“yeah i’m all good just a difficult case” you smiled as herrmann placed two beers in-front of you and jay, picking up your beer you took a sip as jay reached for your free hand intertwining your fingers with his.

you could almost see the clogs turning in jays head as he thought of what to say next, it was obvious he wanted to bring up what you had said to izzy while you were talking to her earlier in the day but you were unsure of if you should start the conversation, instead taking another sip from your drink.

“look i understand if you don’t want to talk about it yet, i won’t pressure you but earlier what you said to izzy, that was true” you rubbed the back of his hand with the pad of your thumb as you nodded taking a deep breath preparing yourself to tell jay the part of your life you wished you could forget.

“no jay it’s okay. yeah it’s true, i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. my mom and dad didn’t move to california. i left when i turned 18” jay looked at you his eyes glued to yours as he listened intently to what you had to say, he didn’t know what you were about to tell him, what trauma you’d been through but he’d love you all the same.

“your situation was like izzy’s?” he asked sipping his beer before giving your hand a reassuring squeeze as he saw you nod, jay couldn’t fathom how you went through this growing up, the thought made his heart ache for you.

“every situation is different.. a little different for me, my mom and dad broke up when i was young but he still had parental rights so i stayed at his every weekend, every holiday. he’d be drunk the entire time drag me to a bar just like this where he would get drunk, and pressure me to try and drink with him. then we’d go back to his apartment id say or look at him a certain way and he wouldn’t like it.. then he would snap.” jay watched you the look on his face the one you didn’t want to see but it felt like a type of release getting it all off your chest.

“as i got older i tried talking him down, calming him down but it never worked. he would say horrible things things you wouldn’t dare every say to a child or a teenager at that. he’d pressure me to drink and smoke with him. i got better at dealing with it in my teen years though i was used to it nothing he could say would really effect me when it got to that point. i was hospitalised twice, no police ever called nothing ever happened until i got older and left” jay listened shaking his head as his heart ached for you, he couldn’t understand how parents could hurt their children, hurt the people they’re supposed to protect. it never made sense to him.

“i don’t know how you went through that growing up, i’m sorry” his voice full of empathy, as he watched you take another sip from your beer. you looked back over at him and shook your head.

“all i wanted when i was a teenager was to find someone who made me feel safe. but i didn’t actually think i would ever find someone. i thought i’d end up just like my mom with a guy like him. but i was wrong jay. i found you.” jay offered a small smile as he pulled you into a hug, your words made him feel a way he hadn’t before, he made you feel safe. the man who’s arms you were in would do anything to keep you safe and happy, that’s what you wished for as a teen.

“i love you y/n, i’m not going to let anything happen to you again you hear me.” you smiled looking up at the man of your dreams, the man you’d wished for. you couldn’t believe you had him, you didn’t know what you did to deserve a man like jay but you would be forever thankful.

#chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #chicago fire #jay halstead #one chicago x reader #jay halstead fluff #jay halstead oneshot #i love jay halstead #jay x reader

[milawritesstuff]

Hey can u do a love triangle between the reader gavi and pedri <3 xx

A/N: ok this one really made me soft. And when I reread it to proofread it made me sad 🤣

Please give me all of your feedback. This is probably one of my favorites I have written if we are being honest.

Warnings: none

Update: Prequel, when reader and Pedri merry can be found here!!!

•••

You could feel Pedri’s stare piercing through you as you and Gavi sat across from him waiting to go into the movie theatre. It had surprised you he had accepted to go out with the group despite not having a date and now you wished he would not have came along. He was making it all feel awkward. Gavi was completely oblivious to Pedri looking.

A few months back Pedri and you had met. There had been flirting back and forth but he always sent you mixed signals. Minus a heated makeout session after he offered to take you home from Val’s party, nothing else had happened. He had asked Val for your phone number which resulted in random messages every few weeks. After a few weeks you decided to step away and not get your hopes up. You were attracted to him but knew he was too invested in his career and you would end up broken hearted.

In contrast, Gavi went all in. Two weeks ago you and Gavi had ended up at the same event. That night he had asked for your phone number and here you were on your first unofficial date.

The next afternoon as you were walking to catch the metro after your last uni class you heard a honk. You turned around and saw a green mini copper nearing you. It was Pedri. You leaned into the passenger window. “Hola Pedri.” He smiled. “Going home?” He asked. “Yeah.” “I’ll take you, it’s on the way.” He had just finished some meetings at camp nou which was about five minutes from your school. Sitting in the car with him gave you butterflies because it reminded you of the night you two made out.

“Did you like the movie yesterday?” You asked as a way to break the ice. “I did, you?” He asked with his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “It was good.” You responded. It took Pedri less than a second “Did you watch it? I thought you and Pablo spent the whole time sucking each others faces.” Ouch. Pedri had sat at the opposite end of the row from you and Gavi, you didn’t think he had noticed. “And? Are you jealous or something?”

Your question caught Pedri by surprise. He stayed quiet for a moment. “And what if I am?” He said and you could feel your heart being to beat extremely fast.

Pedri remembered the way to your home. He pulled up to the same spot where you two had made out that first night. He stopped his car and looked over at you. “So what’s going on with you and Pablo?” Part of you wanted to tell him it was none of his business but another part of you was intrigued.

“I guess we’re casually dating. I don’t know.” You said. Which was true, you weren’t exactly sure where you and Gavi stood. You knew you liked him though. “You like him?” Asked Pedri. And the truth was he wasn’t sure why he had asked that. Pablo had become his best friend in the short time they had known each other. He knew he couldn’t betray him even if he had seen you first. “Maybe.” You said. But before Pedri could say anything you added “But I also like you.”

Your eyes met and despite his good intentions Pedri couldn’t fight off his desire. He leaned in and kissed you. When you two parted away you were lost for words. His kiss was just as you had remembered. Unfortunately before you could say anything Pedri proceeded to say goodbye. “You’re home safe Y/N, I’ll see you around.” You took the hint and got off of his car. Before you even made it to your front door Pedri had already sped away.

The next day Pedri, Gavi, and the rest of the team were flying out for a game. Pedri like always sat with Gavi. “What are you smiling like that for?” He asked Gavi who was looking at his phone. “It’s Y/N” said Gavi as he waved his phone in front of Pedri’s face. “You really like her?” Asked Pedri.

What Pedri wanted to hear was that no Gavi did not like you. That he just wanted to have fun because then it would be easier to tell him to back off because he had claimed you first. “It’s weird,” said Gavi bringing Pedri out of his thoughts. “I really do think I like her.” Pedri smiled politely at Gavi despite burning with jealousy inside. If he had just told you how he felt about you months ago this wouldn’t be happening. If he had told Gavi why he was acting weird every time he asked, this wouldn’t be happening. But he didn’t. And it was happening.

As soon as the team landed in Madrid Gavi messaged you. Seeing his messages made you smile with anticipation. As you were responding to him you realized another message had came in, this time from Pedri. You opened the message history for Pedri which showed his last message had been three weeks ago. “He’s really into you.” Read the new message.

You had waited long enough to where you knew Pedri would be in his room when you decided to call instead of message him back.

“Y/N?” He answered. “Are you alone?” You asked. “Yeah.”

“I know Gavi’s into me.” You said very matter of factly. Pedri scuffed. “That’s what you called me for!” He asked. “No, I-“ You stuttered. “I called you because Pedri I was head over heels for you and you did nothing about it. How was I supposed to know you liked me? It’s not really fair now.”

“Well now you know.” He said. You could tell he wanted to say more but he didn’t. “I like you too Pedri.” You whispered. Pedri was annoyed because no matter how much he wanted you he knew he couldn’t have you. It would end his friendship and shatter Gavi. He’s liked you but he was a loyal friend. “Don’t.” He said. “I want to see you when we get back, if that’s okay.” You agreed you would meet with him once the team was back in Barcelona.

That night you and Gavi talked on the phone until the late hours of the night. Pedri made you feel safe but Gavi made you feel adventurous and free. It was a Jekyll and Hyde thing.

A week later you found yourself waiting near your university for a green mini copper. When you saw Pedri approaching you waited to get in his car and he drove off. He was silent most of the car ride. He held on to your hand as he keeps his eyes on the road. And despite being silent that little gesture told you so much. “Where are we going?” You asked Pedri.

“On our first and last date.” He said. Pedri drove up to Montjuïc where you two could get lost in between the crowds. He held your hand as he led the way. He showed you his favorite view of the city and you walked through the gardens.

“What are we doing?” You asked him as the two of you sat on a bench. “What do you mean?” He asked. “What is all of this, Pedri?”

He sat there in silence. Then he turned over to you and took you in for a deep and long kiss. “That’s the last time I do that, I promise.” He said.

“Pedri. Pablo asked me to be his girlfriend last night.” You said as you bit your bottom lip. “I know.” He responded. The truth was that Gavi had planned his proposal during the plane ride back to Barcelona. He had asked Pedri, his best friend, for advice. Which was why he had brought you a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Which Gavi had no idea what they were but Pedri remembered.

“That’s why I said this would be our first and last date.” Said Pedri with a low and defeated tone. “He’s a great guy, Pablo. He’s head over heels for you.”

“Why Pedro? I waited days for you to call me after we made out and nothing and when you did reach out you didn’t mention anything.” You didn’t realize until that moment that you had some bottled up resentment for him. “I got scared.” He said. “I want to focus on my career and that night you really made me doubt if that should be my priority.” He explained.

“So what now?” You asked. He looked at you with a piercing look that sent shivers down your spine. “Now you’re Pablo’s girlfriend.” He said. “And I lost my chance.”

#pablo gavi #pedri gonzalez #pedri imagine #gavi fluff #gavi imagine #gavi x reader #pablo gavira #pedri x reader

[jeanniebug623]

🕸️🕷️ Weaving the Web 🕷️🕸️

Chapter 13: It Takes A Village

It...could have gone better. To put it gently. Quaritch held Spider’s hand all through the MRI, but it took longer than expected because he wiggled around much more than the more composed teenage Spider, resulting in unclear scans that needed to be redone multiple times. But Quaritch stayed calm the entire time. His lapse of emotional control wasn’t going to help with MJ; he’d learned that very quickly. It was going great...until it wasn’t... 

Ja was staring at the now three different sets of brain scans as Quaritch watched Spider sitting on the MRI bed, looking around the room as he kicked his feet back and forth while he waited. Sleeping all day had left him restless. How was he going to get the kid to sleep that night? 

“I’m going to need more time to really look into the differences, sir.” Ja said. The colonel expected this. There was no way for him to report on all the differences after only a few minutes. 

“Understood.” Quaritch said, his eyes moving to the new brain scans for MJ. Again. They looked like they were from a completely different person. “While you’re at it, you think you can look into that twitchin’ to the right?”  

Almost as if on cue, both recoms looked back to the boy to see his head jerk to the right and he rubbed his hand over his right eye. None of the scans had shown any physical damage to Spider’s brain but between the nose bleeds and split personalities, something more than his psyche was no longer intact. 

“Of course, sir.” Ja said, then hesitantly continued, “Do you think it possible to get a blood draw for a new panel?” 

“That really necessary?” Quaritch asked, not sure how the kid would respond to being stuck by a needle, “Same body, right?” 

“Same body, sir, but body chemistry can reportedly change in cases of the disorder. I just want to get as much info as poossibe...cover all the bases. It’s rare.  But Spi-...” Ja explained but was cut off before he could go into lecture mode. 

“Spider’s a rare case. Gotcha.” Quaritch sighed and clapped a hand on Ja’s shoulder with a look of little confidence, “Let’s see...” 

Spider looked at the recoms as they came back into the room. He didn’t mind being left alone now that the test in the ‘loud monster’ was over. He hopped off the table and smiled, “Am I ok?” 

“Yea, MJ, you’re good. Just...one more test.” Quaritch said, holding up his finger and hoping his quiet, slightly pleading, tone would garner some sympathy and obedience. He started to hate how he’d promised the kid something to eat but it had been over an hour since then. He didn’t want the boy to stop trusting him because he wasn’t keeping his word in a timely manner. 

“Again?” Spider asked, his shoulders dropping. He sighed and asked in a low voice, “Are you sure I’m not sick...?” 

Quaritch nodded and held out his hand for Spider to take. He was happy when the boy didn’t even hesitate, and they followed Ja into a different room. Ja immediately went to pull on a pair of latex gloves and gather the necessary equipment as Quaritch patted a bench and said with an encouraging nod, “Right here, tiger. MJ?” 

Spider had tightened his grip on the recom’s large hand that engulfed his and paled as he stared at the medic. Clearly, he recognized what was about to happen. He shook his head and stammered out, “I-I’m not sick. I’m ok. I don’t need this test.” 

“MJ, it’s gonna be alright. Just a little pinch-...” Quaritch tried to explain. 

“I’m not sick, you said so!” Spider repeated, trying to pull his hand loose. The colonel instinctively tightened his grip and the boy tried to push the hand off. 

“It’s ok if you’re scared, MJ, I promise it’ll be over before you know it.” the colonel said, suddenly feeling out of his element and wishing Wainfleet was still there. What the hell was the last name of the superhero the kid liked...? 

“Kehe!” Spider shouted. From their previous training in basic Na’vi linguistics, they already knew this meant ‘no’. Quaritch knelt as Spider pulled back into a corner, still holding his hand firmly. Damn it, those brown eyes were glossing over again with tears. Spider seemed like the type of wild child who could walk off every bump and scrape but afraid of a tiny needle? 

“MJ.” Quaritch said, equal parts calm and firm, “Why are you scared?” 

“Because you’re gonna make me!” Spider cried out in response. He was trying really hard to pull his hand free, but Quaritch wasn’t going to risk him running off again. The colonel appraised the scared child, thinking about his reason. Because they were ‘gonna make him’, not ‘it’s gonna hurt’? Quaritch changed tactics and loosened his grip but not letting the small hand slip through his fingers yet. 

“I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to.” Quaritch said. Spider froze but didn’t look convinced either. He mentally checked himself before asking, “Did you get scared like this before? And someone made you do it anyways?” 

Spider’s eyes dropped a bit, and he swallowed any possible answer. Even in a child-like mental state, Quaritch knew when a person was keeping their trap shut to avoid repercussions from a third party. He let go of Spider’s hand completely and he slowly started pulling at the hem of his shirt again. He glanced at Ja, who looked ready to surrender from the guilt, then back. 

Quaritch cleared his throat and asked, “How about I go first?” 

The boy looked up and after a few seconds of searching the recom’s face for a trick, he asked, “...are you sick?” 

“Nah. I’m as healthy as a horse! But it’s good to make sure. Yea?” Quaritch said as he stood up and took a seat on the bench, stretching his long, muscular arm out on the side table. Ja raised his eyebrows, silently asking if he was serious. A simple nod gave the medic his answer and he immediately started tying a rubber band around his superior’s upper arm. Though finding a good vein wouldn’t be an issue with how vascular all the recoms were with their genetically perfected bodies. 

Spider slowly walked over as Ja cleaned the area and switched out for a much thicker needle for the recom’s draw. The boy stared at Quaritch. Instead of being held down by someone much stronger, they’d let him go. Quaritch had said he wouldn’t make Spider do it. But he was doing it...so Spider wasn’t alone. 

Quaritch didn’t even flinch, not even an ear flick, when the needle went in. The boy watched the blood siphon out into a tube then Ja removed the needle and covered it with gauze. A quick piece of medical tape later, Quaritch slapped his hands on his knees and stood. 

“All done, kid, let’s go.” Quaritch said and started towards the door like that was that. But Spider didn’t move. He looked back and tilted his head, “You comin’?” 

“Yea...” Spider said, sounding confused that they were really leaving without Spider doing as he was told. He was used to some nasty consequences for not listening to Mr. McCosker. But that wasn’t happening. He wasn’t being held in tight arms while someone else made their attempt at a simple blood draw, usually missing the vein since they didn’t wait for him to calm down.  He looked up at Ja, who gave him a smile and nodded towards the door, then turned back to Quaritch. “I could...um...I could do it. The test.” 

Quaritch narrowed his eyes and smiled slightly, shaking his head. He said with genuine honesty and not his usual manipulative spin, “You don’t gotta do it if you don’t want to. Maybe another time though?” 

“No, I can do it now!” Spider said in earnest. He looked back up to Ja and held out his arm so the inner elbow was facing up, “I can do it now, Johnny.” 

“Ok.” Johnny said with a chuckle, “I’ll need you to sit down, ok?” 

Spider shook his head and went to sit on the bench, pausing for a moment. Quaritch watched him put his hand over the spot that would soon get the needle then his head tweaked a bit to the right. Every time Quaritch had seen it, some dramatic shift occurred. Even though MJ was in control, would the tiny prick from the needle bring Miles to the surface? 

“MJ.” Quaritch said quickly as Spider inched toward the bench. He walked around and took a seat first then picked the boy up under the arms and turned him to comfortably sit in his lap. He took Spider’s hand in his and gently guided the arm to be stretched out on top of his own. The boy leaned back into the comfort of the recom’s chest and held onto the arm around his middle so he wouldn’t slide off. “That better?” 

Spider smiled as he nodded then looked forward as Ja got to work. Quaritch watched as well, moving his chin to rest on top of the boy’s head. Aside from a tiny instinctual flinch, the boy took the blood draw like a champ. The colonel stared at the arm lying across his own with a warm feeling in his chest. An unfamiliar emotion at its core. 

Quaritch wasn’t sure if he would’ve cared if the halls were crowded with people as he walked back to his apartment with the teenager in his arms in the quiet of the after hours. Spider had his arms wrapped around the recom’s broad shoulders and resting his head on his shoulder. Quaritch didn’t even know when, or why, he started rubbing Spider’s back. He was more than tough; the boy had to be something extraordinary to deal with whatever was going on in his head. 

“Holy shit...” was all Quaritch could say when he got back to his apartment to find, not just Wainfleet, but the WHOLE squad packed in the living room and kitchenette areas. Spider leaned back at looked at the five pairs of recoms eyes catching sight of what could only be described as unusually adorable. As well as completely shocking. 

“...I wish I had a camera.” Zdinarsk said, just as wide-eyed as the others, “That punk ass kid would never live this down...” 

Spider whipped his head back to Quaritch and whispered, “She said a bad word...” 

“...yea.” Quaritch said as he slowly put the kid down and glared daggers at Wainfleet. 

“MJ, come on in and meet the rest of the family! And I got you a late-night snack so long as none of these guys ate it on you.” Wainfleet said, using Spider as the perfect shield to avoid a reprimand for the unexpected house party. He wove the boy through the crowded space of giant blue jarheads to a grilled cheese sandwich with a thermos of hot tomato soup waiting. 

“Lyle.” Quaritch said, his second clearing his throat awkwardly before looking back. “What the hell is this?” 

“How else was I supposed to explain you went MIA because the kid’s living a childhood flashback without proving it?” Wainfleet asked innocently as he crossed his arms with a shrug. 

Quaritch rolled his eyes and shook his head. It was a pathetic excuse, but it may have sounded like an even more pathetic excuse if the rest of the squad didn’t have proof that Spider had indeed taken on a new, young-minded personality. He watched as Zdinarsk and Prager immediately got down to Spider’s level as he stuffed his face with Wainfleet’s favorite meal as a kid. The colonel was proud to see his squad curious about this new development versus the repulsion they had towards Miles. 

The colonel only let the squad linger for a short while before kicking them out of the apartment as it progressively got more and more stuffy. When he tried to convince Spider to go sleep in his own room, he was met with sad, puppy eyes. Quaritch let the boy lie in bed with him until he got tired, though that didn’t seem any time soon as the boy bombarded him with questions about the squad. 

“Are you my dad’s avatar?” Spider asked as he stared out the partially drawn blinds to the light-polluted skies of Bridgehead, staring at what stars shined through. 

“What?” Quaritch said, snapping his eyes open from the attempted sleep he was trying to encourage on the boy. He leaned up on his elbows and stared down at the boy curled into his side. “...why would you think that?” 

“Because of the bird.” Spider said with an innocent shrug as he sat up and poked at the prominent eagle tattoo on the colonel’s left shoulder. 

Quaritch was speechless, looking from the tattoo to the boy’s curious eyes. Spider knew about Miles Quaritch? He knew what his father looked like? How in the hell did he know what his father looked like? After a moment, the boy raised his hands to fidget with the oversized recom shirt he’d changed into for sleep. But before he could start the nervous habit, Quaritch put a gentle hand on them to stop it. 

“Not exactly, MJ...I’m not an avatar.” Quaritch said slowly, unsure how to explain it. Or if he even should. 

“Oh...” Spider said with a nod, but it was clear the gears were still spinning. Maybe the kid was putting together a different comparison but, given the colonel’s response earlier, he asked instead, “So...does that mean...you’re just my dad?” 

Quaritch stared again, not able to form any words. Spider was comparing himself to Quaritch the same way those half-breeds they found him with connected to Sully. He could feel his small fingers twitching under his palm at the undoubtedly creepy, silent stare the recom was giving the boy. 

“Not...” Quaritch started, slowly piecing the words together as he thought about the question, “Exactly.” 

“Oh...” Spider said, looking down at their hands. The boy didn’t look all that upset. He’d been told this before...how many ‘guardians’ told him they weren’t his father? Or mother? How many adults had brushed off this great kid as nothing more than an orphan? Nothing but a stray? 

“But I’m...tryin’ to be.” Quaritch finished. Yes, that made sense. He was taking care of the boy, applied for custody so the RDA couldn’t get their claws in him. Yea...that was it. That was all...that was enough... 

Spider smiled again and toppled forward onto Quaritch like he was doing a damn belly flop. But the colonel didn’t mind as he let the innocent one nestle in close. 

What time was it...? 

He woke up slowly, feeling unusually comfortable with the weight of arms draped around his body and holding him close. He couldn’t remember a night when he’d slept so close to someone. It was strange, but not in a bad way. Sitting up in bed, he rubbed his eyes in the dim, fake lighting coming from outside. The sun wasn’t up yet. Then he looked down at the person he felt so safe and cozy up against. And paled in the darkness of the room. 

“......what the fuck?” Spider asked himself almost silently.

#atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow spider #recom quaritch #spider quaritch #weaving the web #ao3 writer

[reveriera]

𝑜𝑏𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒

SUMMARY | after losing himself to his jealousy and making a scene at your high school reunion, schlatt gets himself back into your good graces the only way he knows how; through his actions.

PAIRING | jschlatt x reader

REQUESTED | yes

WARNINGS | nsfw, 18+

WORD COUNT | 7.7k

NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR | this is the first fic i've written since late last year so i might be a bit rusty since i also am not a native english speaker. this is also my first time ever writing schlatt and i will admit that i'm not as sure on his personality as i am other members of the mcyt, so i apologize if my portrayal of him is weird. not proofread, so apologies in advance for any possible mistakes. please let me know what you think.

🦋 MASTERLIST 🦋 NAVIGATION 🦋 RULES 🦋

Being in a relationship with Johnathan Schlatt had been a wild ride all the way from the very beginning; of that much you were, and always had been, certain. And yet, despite being fully aware of and used to his ways of behaviour, it seemingly never failed to surprise you when he actively went out of his way to go against you. 

It also never failed to frustrate you to absolutely no end, and as you stood before him in your shared living room on this late Friday afternoon, you had to use all the self-restraint that you possessed in order to not blow up on him. 

But while you were managing – although very barely – to keep it together enough to not start a screaming match, the glare you had set on your boyfriend of some time now was hard and unwavering, the fists you had clenched and hidden away underneath your snugly crossed arms tense and tight. 

Schlatt, on the other hand, was barely acknowledging your existence, sitting slouched down in the couch you’d had to buy only a week prior as a result of a certain someone having broken your old one during one of his chaotic streams, with his eyes plastered to the television and his feet carelessly thrown on top of the coffee table in front of him, with a half-full bottle of beer lazily hanging from his hand over the armrest. 

You waited another half minute for him to acknowledge you, gave him an honest chance to stop this episode of his all too frequent and familiar child-like behaviour before it got out of hand. But, as you had already expected, he only continued to ignore you, because going against your wishes whether they were verbal or silent, was what he seemed to do best.  

Realizing you weren’t going to get much out of him by simply glaring, you cleared your throat in an attempt to catch his attention. Still getting nothing, the glare on you face only hardened.  

“Please tell me you’re not wearing that tonight.” You finally spoke, and finally, he turned his head away from the television to meet your expectant stare.  

He wasn’t even trying to pretend that he hadn’t seen you there, making it painfully obvious that he had just been ignoring you.  

“What’s wrong with this?” He asked simply, with little to no emotion behind his voice, as he motioned with the beer bottle toward his torso. 

It took everything you had in you not to take the bottle and just, smash it over his head, right then and there, and to instead take a slow breath.  

“It’s offensive, and inappropriate.” You replied, and watched as Schlatt’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. But the small, almost invisible, tug of his lips told you otherwise, and so did your common sense. 

You didn’t know anyone who would’ve considered his shirt appropriate to wear in a public setting, the shirt in question portraying a nun wearing nothing but her headpiece and adorning a suggestive stare, with her bare and very full chest on complete display to the viewer, a multitude of satanic symbols scribbled around the image in big, bold, red lines, and the letters “show me your tits” lining the upper edge of the print.  

It was one of the many shirts you had banned your boyfriend from wearing anywhere other than at home, and you were sure that was the sole reason he had decided to wear it on this night in particular, to begin with, on which he knew you were attending your high school reunion. 

To say that it was something he hadn’t been looking forward to would be a big understatement. 

He had met your high school acquaintances no more than once prior to this day, when you had been visiting your hometown for Christmas the year before, and that one time had been plenty enough for him.  

To put it shortly, they were all spoiled, entitled assholes who thought the entire world revolved around them and their minor, petty problems. His words, not yours.  

You didn’t necessarily disagree, but you still possessed enough maturity not to express your opinions aloud. Your boyfriend, however, was an entirely different story. 

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to stay home, then. Sucks to be me.” 

You automatically rolled your eyes at his sarcastic retort and uncrossed your arms from over your chest. 

“Is everything a joke to you?” You asked, continuing, “You know how important this is to me and you promised you’d go with me.” 

“I’m not getting dressed up for those plutocrats.” Schlatt only grumbled under his breath and lazily took a swig from his beer. 

“Okay, you don’t have to.” You said and lightly shrugged your shoulders. “Get dressed up for me instead.” You continued, meeting his eyes once they flickered back over to yours. 

You held each other’s gazes for a few seconds, stubborn and displeased battling fiercely against pleading and determined. Eventually, the latter ended up bringing home the win, much to your satisfaction and your boyfriend’s dismay. 

With another displeased mutter, Schlatt brought his legs down from the coffee table and leaned forward in his seat. He put the bottle that was now almost empty down on the wooden surface, shut off the television and stood up, wordlessly passing by you were you stood and heading straight into your shared bedroom. 

You could faintly make out the sound of his wardrobe opening and closing, and then the faucet of the sink being turned on in the bathroom. Silence followed for another two or so minutes, before your boyfriend remerged and joined you where you stood. 

“Is that asshole Dexter going to be there?” He asked you once he had come to a stop in front of you, looking straight ahead as you started working on straightening the collar of the patterned button-up he was now wearing. 

You raised an eyebrow at his question.  

“I would guess so, seeing as we went to school together.” You deadpanned.  

The glare you had previously been wearing was gone at this point, now having been replaced by a neutral expression.  

The same couldn’t be said for your boyfriend, who was still sulking away like a child where he stood. 

“Yeah, well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice then, do I?” He muttered, and you rolled your eyes, taking his hand in yours and intertwining your fingers as you left the warmth of your apartment to head outside.  

🦋 °○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○ 🦋 °○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○ 🦋

An hour and a half later, you were passing by the big welcoming sign at the border of your hometown and yet another five minutes later, you were pulling up outside your old high school, outside which the parking lot was already crowded with cars of all shapes, colours and sizes.  

Due to already being late, much thanks to your boyfriend, you didn’t waste any time in getting out of the car and heading towards the building once you were parked.  

You could hear the music before you even got to the door, and the louder and closer it got, the more bitter the man at your side seemed to become. 

“Dexter.” He was muttering under his breath, the name sounding like an insult falling off of his tongue.  

“Who even name their kid that, anyway?” He continued, this time directing the question at you. “That name is reserved for dogs and serial killers, not people.” 

You rolled your eyes at the comment, but couldn’t hold back the small snort that slipped past your lips. 

“Play nice, please.” You replied with a nudge to his side and grabbed his hand once again. 

The last thing you heard before you opened the large doors, stepped inside and became overthrown by the overpowering sound of music and chatter, was him muttering under his breath that he wouldn’t make any promises. 

Come to turn out, if he had promised you that he would play nice, he would’ve ended up breaking that vow fairly quickly, either way. Half an hour into it, to be exact. 

The only other person he could tolerate at this god-forsaken party was your best friend, who seemed to have slipped off to an unknown location and, by doing so, left him to fend for himself with people he’d either met once and decided he didn’t like, or people he hadn’t met at all. 

Safe to say, neither of the two were very ideal.  

You had stuck by his side for the first twenty or so minutes, introducing him to everyone and catching up with those you had been friendly with during your high school years. Schlatt had done his part of playing the comedic and talkative boyfriend, admittedly not wanting to ruin the experience for you despite how he felt about it, himself. 

But a man could only take so much involuntary socializing, and while it had been manageable when you had still been glued to his side with your hand tightly woven together with his own, it was much less tolerable when you weren’t there and some chick who he had never met in his entire life was talking his ear off about something he couldn’t have cared less about.  

So, his eyes searched the room, looking first toward the snack table which had been your supposed destination back when you had first left him by his lonesome, and found no trace of you. 

He wasn’t very surprised about it, having learned very early into your relationship that you had a somewhat inconvenient tendency to stray as a result of getting distracted between point A and point B.  

That very tendency was the sole reason he had sworn never to visit Disneyland with you again.  

He had never slept for as long as he had after getting home from that trip, never been so exhausted, and now it would seem that you had done the exact same thing, seeing as you weren’t anywhere near where you’d told him you were heading off to. 

Instead, after a moment of searching the crowd for the one face he never got tired of seeing, he finally found you on the complete other side of the room, and the second his eyes registered who you had been so occupied talking to for the past ten minutes, the entirety of his focus was shifted onto you.  

Schlatt wasn’t normally the type to get jealous. Not because he wasn’t insecure or didn’t know that you deserved better - because he definitely was, and you definitely did – but because he knew that you were the most honest person in his life, and he knew where the two of you stood with each other.  

But when it came to this guy, he just couldn’t help it. It was the one person except for your best friend who he had met on more than one occasion - and let me tell you, he had hated every second of it. 

Dexter. The one name that could make him see red with the mere mention of it, the name that shouldn’t even exist beyond the infamous, fictional serial killer and maybe a dog or two.  

But it did exist, it was very real, and so was the person to whom it had been given, and the feelings said person brought Schlatt, who had instantly been overflooded by red hot jealousy in his chest, uncomfortable tingling in his hands and feet, and a tang so sour in his mouth that his lips turned down at the taste of it.  

He just couldn’t help it.  

You had been with this guy for most of your life in one way or another. Childhood best friends turned high school sweethearts, voted school’s cutest couple three years in a row, and most likely to get married. You had been each other's firsts, and you had planned to build a life together.  

The only reason you had broken off your relationship was because you ended up moving to a different state, and he wasn’t willing to leave your hometown to follow.  

There hadn’t been any relationship problems, no major disagreements or incompatibilities, no big drama or any ugly fights, and most importantly; no lack of attraction.  

You had still been attracted to him both physically and emotionally at the time of your breakup, and it was probably that part that bothered him the most; knowing that, had the circumstances been just slightly different, you could’ve still been with this guy instead of him. 

It made him feel threatened, and it didn’t help to watch you laugh at his jokes and stare at him with the amount of nostalgic admiration that you did as you took a trip down memory lane with each other, all while Schlatt sat and watched.  

He wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he stood up and made a beeline for where you were standing, or if he was thinking at all which, let’s be honest, he already knew that he wasn’t. S 

afe to say, his mind had already been relatively empty when he had first gotten out of his seat and started moving, but it wasn’t until he was halfway there and watched from afar as you turned your back to your ex-boyfriend and allowed him to touch your hair and back, that Schlatt’s mind really went blank.  

The speed in his step increased significantly and before he knew it, before he had even gotten to remove his hands from your body and as soon as he found himself within hearing range, he heard his own voice cut out through the music,  

“How about you get your hands off of my girlfriend?” 

He came to a stop right in front of the two of you, with a glare hard enough to kill etched onto his face as he reached his hand out and firmly grasped the wrist of his rival.  

Only then did the two of you realize your boyfriend had joined you, not having been given much time to register it by yourselves with the way he had immediately gone to attack. 

Dexter's eyes grew wide, at first out of shock, and then out of mildly annoyed bewilderment.  

“Excuse me?” He near-spat and janked his hand back to himself.  

He took a step back to put some distance between the two of them and Schlatt immediately responded by stepping closer to you, gluing himself to your side and sliding an arm snugly around your waist.  

“It’s fine. You remember Dexter, right?” You moved into your boyfriend’s side and attempted to soothe his very obvious anger, but to no avail.  

“Yeah, I remember him, alright.” Schlatt’s eyes didn’t waver from the other man for as much as a millisecond. 

It wasn’t hard for the other man to pick up on the hostile change of environment.  

“I was just helping her untangle her hair from the zipper of her dress, man.” He joined you in trying to salvage the situation, but he wasn’t as skilled in hiding his annoyance as you were – a skill you had picked up thanks to your boyfriend, to begin with – and the boyfriend in question only took that as a further threat.  

“Well, thank you for your service, but that’s what she has me for.” He sarcastically replied, his voice dripping with venom, before he turned to you and continued with a stern glare, “Grab your coat, we’re going home.” 

A crease formed between your brows as they furrowed. “What? We just got here.” Your annoyance was starting to seep through, and he immediately noticed judging by the way his gaze only hardened.  

“And now we’re leaving.” He repeated, drawing an unimpressed scoff from your lips.  

“You can’t be serious right now.” You crossed your arms over your chest.   

“As serious as I’ve ever been.” He didn’t miss a beat.  

You narrowed your eyes and shook your head. “I’m not going anywhere- hey, what’s wrong with you?!” You interrupted yourself mid-sentence when he suddenly took you by your shoulders and turned you around.  

He began to steer you in the direction of your coats while you verbally protested, but before you could get very far, a firm hand had placed itself on his own shoulder.  

“Hey, don’t touch her!” Dexter demanded and squeezed down on his shoulder. 

Displeased was no longer sufficient in describing how Schlatt was feeling as he stopped in his tracks and turned back around to get rid of the hand. 

Two pairs of equally as annoyed eyes met. 

“Excuse me? Do I need your permission to touch my girlfriend?”  

“No, but you do need hers, and I’m pretty sure we both heard her say no.” 

Schlatt raised his eyebrows, shooting out a deadpan stare.  

“Is this your relationship? Your girlfriend? No? Then butt out, asshole.” He turned back to you, once again portraying determination in everything he did as he ordered you once again to, “Stop arguing and get your fucking coat.” 

Your eyes didn’t falter from those of your boyfriend’s as they narrowed into angry slits. You started up to fight back, like you had so many times before, but before you could even get a word in edgewise to defend yourself, you were once again cut off, this time by Dexter.  

“Do you always speak for her like this?” He asked your boyfriend. “That’s kind of problematic, don’t you think?” 

Schlatt stood his ground, once again raising his eyebrows in a challenging manner as he retorted, “Oh, I’m sorry, are you not doing the exact same thing, right now?” 

Dexter opened his mouth to speak once more, and that’s when you’d had enough. 

“Okay, fine, you know what? I'm actually very tired, and we’re going to go home.” 

You took a firm grip of your boyfriend’s hand and pinched the flesh of his palm, knowing how much he hated it when you did it. As expected, he immediately attempted to silently fight you off with his own fingers and, much to your dismay, managed to do so.  

You didn’t bother trying again, proceeding to instead ignore him to turn back to your friend. 

“I’m so sorry, Dex. I’ll call you later, okay? We’ll have to continue that conversation over coffee someday.” You offered him an apologetic smile and he nodded, the glare on his face slowly but surely being replaced by a smile of his own.  

“Yeah, that’s probably best.” He nodded. His smile took a bit of a worried turn as he continued, “Just, give me a call if you need anything, okay? I’m always available for you if you need anything, and I mean anything-” 

He cut himself off and discretely looked between you and the man at your side, and you nodded before the man in question could use it to fire the argument back up.  

“Yeah, I know, and I appreciate it. But I’m good, thank you.” You assured him and, after another few seconds of hesitation, he seemed to relax as his eyes settled on you.  

“Okay, good. Well, I guess I’ll see you around. It was good seeing you again, it’s been far too long since last.” 

He leaned down and kissed your cheek as you said your final goodbyes, all while maintaining eye contact with Schlatt over your shoulder, who unbecknownst to you was about ready to pounce any second now. 

Luckily for everyone present in that room, many of whom had been pulled by their previous conversations by your argument, it didn’t get any further than that, as the two of you wordlessly went and got your things and left the building with rash, hurried steps. 

The second you got had gotten situated in the car and the key was turned in the ignition, you spoke sternly without taking your eyes off the road in front of you, “We’re talking about this the second we get home.” 

Schlatt kept his eyes straight ahead of him, as well, and snapped out an equally as hostile, “Can’t wait”, before pressing down on the gas, driving out of the school’s parking lot and turning down the road. 

🦋 °○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○ 🦋 °○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○ 🦋

The car ride home might have been wordless, with not a single sound uttered from either of you to the other, but the air in the car was everything but silent. The atmosphere had been so tense with emotions that it made both your ears ring, painfully and seemingly endlessly, with anger; yours directed at him and his fragile ego, and his directed at his you and your ex-boyfriend. 

As soon as you came to a stop and parked outside your apartment complex, it was like you entered an unspoken competition where both of you did everything you could to show the other how mad you were.  

Doors were slammed, stairs were stomped, and curses were thrown carelessly and harshly into the innocent air every time you messed something up as a result of your harsh, jagged and anger-shaken movements. 

The second you had shut the front door behind you and twisted the lock, the bubble of temporary peace that you had managed to maintain up until then ruptured in a matter of seconds, and so the arguing began.  

“I can’t fucking believe you.” You were the first to speak up with disgust and embarrassment dripping from every uttered word as you angrily yanked off your scarf and jacket and threw them on the coat hanger.  

“I can’t believe you!” He shot back with just as much distain while throwing off his shoes, hard enough for them to bounce across the floor and dunk into the wall in front of them.  

“What the hell did I do?!” You whipped around to face him and yelled. 

In response, his eyes narrowed. “You’re asking me that after you just let your ex feel you up right in front of me?” 

“I- feel me up?” If only looks had been able to kill, your boyfriend would have been sent six feet under on the spot, right then and there. “Are you serious right now? I was having a conversation with a friend! A con-ver-sation, with a friend! I wasn’t aware that went against the very laws of a relationship!” 

“It wouldn’t have if it weren’t for the embarrassingly obvious fact that the asshole is still head over heels in love with you, but it is what it is, so tough fucking shit!” 

“So, what if he is?! How he feels about me does absolutely nothing to change how I feel about you! Literally the only thing that is changing the light in which I see you right now is your own fucking behaviour. I mean, what the fuck has gotten into you?! You never get like this! You watch other guys flirt with me all the time and you mock and laugh at them because you know that they’re trying in vain, so why is this one guy so different?!” 

“Because he’s an asshole who doesn’t respect that you’re in a relationship!” 

“And you’re not an asshole?!” 

“Well, at least I’m not shamelessly throwing myself at my ex!” 

You stilled where you stood and hardened your face, having had more than enough of the crap he was unfairly putting you through.  

“Fine, if that’s how you want to be then you can sleep on the fucking couch. I don’t even want to look at you right now.” You shook your head in disgust and turned on your heel, heading in the direction of your bedroom.  

“Fine, I will!” He snapped behind you as he audibly followed.  

“Fine.” You repeated, this time lower than the last.  

Once again, he snapped out with a fierceness significantly more intense than your own, “Fine!” 

As you entered your bedroom and, while still standing in the doorway with your back turned to him, reached your hand out for the bed, you spoke one last time, “Fine. Take your fucking pillow, too.” 

The pillow in questioned hit him square in the face before he got the time to react, and before he got to utter another word to you, you had slammed the bedroom door in his face and shut yourself into the bedroom. 

You stood silently on the other side of the door and listened, being met with a few seconds of silence and then the sound of his retreating footsteps. 

You heard him turn on the television no more than a second later and the mere sound of it was enough to infuriate you even further. Your entire body felt hot, your blood felt as if it was boiling and about to erupt with the way that it was pumping in your veins.  

You wanted nothing more than to go back out there and just scream at him until he was so far pushed into the ground that you couldn’t see him anymore but before you could do that or anything else that you knew you’d later come to regret, you blocked out the sound of his stupid house renovation program and stomped your way into the bathroom, getting started on your night routine all while muttering profanities and angry ramblings under your breath to yourself. 

Acting out everything you wanted to say to the various toiletries stored in your bathroom wasn’t quiet as efficient as you imagined it would have been to act it out to the very source of your frustration and wasn’t even nearly enough to rid you of your anger completely. But it did do the trick well enough to stop you from throwing fuel to the fire once you had completed your bedtime rituals and gotten back into your bedroom, beyond which you could still hear the sound of the television. 

You noticed quickly that the volume had been increased significantly from when he had first put it on, no doubt in an attempt from his side to get you to react. You knew that, for him, a negative reaction was better than no reaction at all, and that was one of the very few things about him that you wished, just, wasn’t. All it did was make it your responsibility to be the bigger person in an argument, and sometimes you really wanted, needed, to be the smaller one. 

But you wouldn’t let yourself be this time around, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction by reacting, so rather than acting on his attempt to provoke, you simply picked your phone up from where it laid on your bedside table and annoyedly typed in a text, locking it and putting it back down as soon as you heard the whooshing sound that confirmed that the text had been sent.

Not even a second later, you heard the familiar ding of your boyfriend’s phone, and you listened as he shuffled around in the couch in the other room, the leather creaking under his weight and the wooden structure squeaking ever so slightly. The downside of buying a second-hand couch, you supposed.

Not many seconds passed before your phone dinged to signal you had received a reply. You didn’t move a muscle, made no attempt to read what he had written you back. Instead you just laid there, turned to the side with your hands tucked under your head and your eyes staring into the wall in front of you.  

And you waited.  

And waited, and waited, and- 

The loud voices from the television suddenly grew silent, as did the entire apartment. The voices were soon enough replaced by the sound of incoming footsteps and, before you knew it, the door to the bedroom was pushed open. 

A second later, a gust of air hit your partly bare back where your blanket had slipped down, accompanied by a muffled thump as the pillow you had thrown out of the room only minutes before was thrown back to where it belonged.  

A weight was added behind you to the other side of the bed, followed shortly by the sound of your boyfriend’s voice.  

“I’m not sleeping on the couch, it’s fucking uncomfortable.” He complained bitterly, and began making himself comfortable behind you. 

You knew that he couldn’t see your face at the position you were laying in, but you still couldn’t stop yourself from raising your eyebrows as to say I told you so, and you were just too proud not to let him hear it, supporting your hidden expression by muttering back, “I told you so, but you still insisted on buying it.”  

“Yeah, well, maybe I ought to listen to my beautiful girlfriend more often. She’s clearly got more brains than I do.” He wasted no time in shooting back, just as proud as you judging by how desperately he was trying to hold on to the tough-guy act he had adapted during the course of your argument. 

But you could hear it in his voice that he was faltering, that he was aware of it, and very, very disgruntled about it, and that very fact was enough to bring a light scoff from your lips.  

“Is that your way of apologizing?” You deadpanned simply, not moving where you laid even as he crept up behind you.  

He could clearly tell that you weren’t impressed, judging by the way his arms slowly and hesitantly wrapped around your middle atop the blanket no more than a second later. 

You were still mad at him for taking his jealousy out on you and ruining your experience by doing so, and even more annoyed by the fact that he couldn’t own up to his bad behaviour instead of just buttering his way back into your good graces. 

And yet, even though he opted for the latter and less preferable option out of the two and annoyed you to absolute bits, you did nothing to stop him when he pressed a kiss to your exposed shoulder and started to rub slow, gentle circles on your arm. 

You never could stop him when it happened, because no matter how much you hated to admit it about yourself, both of you would fall at each other’s feet whenever you’d give the other any kind of physical affection. 

And so, when he began moving his lips along the length of your neck, his facial hair scratching the sensitive skin with every move, you wordlessly turned around to face him and made no complaints when he met you in the middle for a kiss.  

It started out slow, with him carefully testing the waters and attempting to urge you on with his actions while you remained the slightest bit grudging; not because you didn’t want to give in, but because you wanted to prove a point and for him to know that you were still pissed and that he wasn’t forgiven. 

You realized quickly, though, that he already knew all of those things. He must have, or else he wouldn’t have remained silent the way that he currently was, most likely too scared about the possibility of pissing you off even further and, as if the couch hadn’t been bad enough, landing himself a permanent sleeping spot out on the street.  

He knew you wouldn’t hesitate if it came to it, and as he’d rather not sleep in his car, he knew that he had to get back into your good graces as quickly as possible, and so far, you didn’t seem to be against his chosen way of doing so with the way you were moving closer and closer to him. 

Your blanket slipped off your form as you did so, your lightly clothed body instinctively shifting into a sitting position and your hands, that had now found their way to the sides of your boyfriend’s jaw, pulling him along with you. 

Without breaking away from each other, you shifted onto your knees. You gave him a moment to follow your move and pull his back up to the headboard of the bed, before slowly raising your leg over his and sitting down on his thighs. 

“You’re infuriating, you know that?” You were the first one to speak once you were properly situated on top of him, your voice coming out muffled against the rapidly increasing urgency of his lips. 

“Yeah, and you’re just such a delight.” He simply uttered back against your own.  

His big hands found their way to the sides of your thighs where they gripped at the flesh. Such a small touch, and yet it was enough to bring a tingle to your core and draw the smallest of moans from your lips.  

Schlatt swallowed the sweet sound with his kiss and reciprocated it with a groan of his own when your hand passed by the waistband of his shorts and grazed over the hardening tent in his boxers.  

“God, I love you.” He mumbled against your lips as a response to your touch.  

“You’re not going to sweet talk yourself out of this one. I’m still mad at you and will continue to be until you apologize to Dexter.” You fired back in return, but couldn’t deny to feeling the smallest bit amused about his contradicting statements.  

Schlatt, on the other hand, wasn’t the slightest bit amused.  

“Could you, maybe, not bring him up while you’ve got your hand down my pants?”  

You didn’t need to look at each other for you to know that he was glaring at you in his head, as was only further proven by the tone of his voice as he grumbled. 

All of the sudden, you found yourself no longer minding the jealousy that he was expressing. You would never admit aloud to knowing why you’d had the sudden change of heart, but it just might have had something to do with the constant surges of pleasure that were being sent to straight between your legs at the feeling of his hands roaming your body and squeezing at everything they could get ahold of. 

“Why? Does it bother you?”

As a response to the request he had given you only some seconds before, the teasing words rolled off your tongue before you’d even been able to register them in your head.  

You had to bite down on your lip to keep control of your mind, and instinctively brought your arms up to wrap around his neck, your fingers weaving themselves into his long hair in an attempt to bring him even closer, if such a thing was even possible. 

Your words made him react the way you would have expected them to, the energy radiating off of him and his movements getting slightly more frustrated.  

“What do you think?” He muttered back, his hands sliding past the curve of your hips and continuing up your sides.  

You hummed to yourself, the warmth and tenderness of his hands leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You responded to his advances accordingly, proceeding to press your hand down against his crotch before clenching your fist in a firm grasp around the very source of his arousal. 

The speed of his heart increased significantly, and he seemed to no longer find himself capable of concentrating on kissing as you continued to rub him through his underwear with torturously slow movements. 

The tips of your fingers became damp along with the fabric underneath them as his arousal leaked through and into your touch.  

It never failed to rile you up to see how quickly you could have him a mess with little to no effort, the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs beginning to throb as his head fell down into the crook of your neck and his entire body seemed to melt into putty.  

His hips raised ever so lightly into your hand, and you responded immediately by pressing down with more pressure. In return, he grew even hungrier, beginning to leave sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all along your neck. 

The mere feeling of his tongue running over your skin was enough to make you lose all train of thought, and when he moved his hands down to firmly grasp your ass, pressing you down hard and rough on his thigh in the process, you couldn’t suppress the moan that rose in your throat. 

You could feel your own wetness seeping through your underwear at that point, and you automatically squeezed your legs tighter together and ground down in a desperate attempt to create some friction. 

Schlatt immediately picked up on your eagerness and squeezed your ass even harder, pulling you further up on his lap in the process and causing your hand to slide out of his pants as a result. 

“Am I forgiven yet?” 

Another moan left your lips as he placed you right on top of his own arousal, where your hand had been teasing him to the point of a full erection. 

His breaths were ragged and uneven against the dampened skin of your neck, and the feeling of the cool air hitting your most sensitive spots together with his rock-hard member pressing up against where you needed him the most, was making it incredibly hard to focus on anything else. 

Still, by controlling your own breathing, you managed to reply through airy pants, “No. I think I’m gonna need some more convincing.”  

His persona which had previously been soft and sweet and reminding you of that of a scolded puppy, quickly got replaced by a fiercer, more heated demeanour, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain. 

“Tell me what you want.” 

His feelings about the events of the night were coming back, you could tell by the tone of his voice as he gave you the order.  

“You know what I want.” You replied with an equal amount of annoyance, your emotions from the night’s events not having left, at all. 

“I want to hear you say it.” He grumbled into your neck.  

“Fuck you.” 

You jumped as a sharp pinch was suddenly delivered to the flesh of your behind and moaned in sync with the man beneath you when he pushed himself closer to you as a response to the pleasure your sudden movements had given him. 

“Watch your mouth, sweetheart.” He grumbled once again, and at that you couldn’t help but to snicker through heavy breaths.  

“Or what?” You challenged, and nevertheless raised your arms with no protests when he gripped the bottom hem of your nightgown and pulled it up your body, allowing him to discard you of the item and throw it to the floor. 

The teasing, the bickering, the challenging and the taunting all came naturally to the two of you. It had been how you had first met, and how you had kept behaving throughout the entirety of your relationship. 

Neither of you had ever taken offense by it, but this time around, after everything that had happened that evening and everything you were currently feeling, there was a limit even for the two of you, only so much you could take before you no longer could.  

No more time nor words were wasted from that moment forward, the two of you just needing to release your individual frustrations about the issue at hand and, to put it plainly, needing each other. 

Schlatt’s shirt joined your nightgown on the floor not even a second later and you were both in such a rush to get your releases that you didn’t bother removing the rest of your clothes. His manhood was released from the entrapment of his shorts by your hand, and your heat exposed from your panties by two of his fingers while the two of you joined in another series of heated kisses. 

They pushed past the soft fabric and continued on to part your folds. A moan immediately fell from your lips at the feeling of his fingers prodding your entrance, and your head followed suit by falling back against your neck. 

“Fuck, you’re wet.” 

Schlatt's voice came out as a mere gust of air. You felt him throb in your hand at the discovery, and yourself do the same as he gathered your wetness and spread it along your core and all the way up to the bundle of nerves that, at this point, was swollen with the need for release. 

With a snide and determined demeanour, he added pressure on that very part of you, knowing just how to move his fingers in order to tick you off and get a rise out of you. The sounds falling from your mouth and the sight of your bodily reactions only further proved that he knew exactly what he was doing. 

“You think that asshole could make you feel like his?” 

His question was unexpected, having thought that you were through with speaking for the time being, and you, admittedly, found yourself unable to determine whether or not he had actually asked it with how far up the clouds your head was currently feeling. 

Still, you pursed your lips and scoffed – a sound that came out sounding everything except for its intent as it was rudely interrupted by yet another moan. 

“I- don’t be stupid.”  

You leaned your head back down to look at him through hooded eyes and hardened your grip on him just the tiniest bit in retaliation. 

When you did this, you could see even through the lack of light in the room how his eyes grew impossibly dark, and struggled to maintain your confident demeanour when he quickened his circular movements around your clit.  

“I need you to answer me, sweetheart.” 

You squeezed your teeth together and fought the urge to do the same to your eyes.  

“No.” You muttered through tightened lips, and cursed yourself in your head for being so desperate. 

“No, what?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“He couldn’t.” You replied without missing a beat. 

You weren’t in the mood nor state of mind to keep fighting, or talking at all, for that matter, but he just couldn’t help himself. 

“That’s right. I’m the only one who can mess you up like this, and I should have shown him that right then and there on the fucking floor for the way that he was touching you.” 

As soon as he’d said that, his lips were back on your neck, latched onto your skin as he toyed with your arousal in an infuriatingly anti-climactic manner.  

Frustration grew in the pit of your stomach and before he could say anything else, you gave a sharp tug to his hair to get him back up from your neck. 

His eyes were already open and waiting to meet yours, like he had known you were going to do what you did. Of course, he did, you thought, with the way he was trying to get a rise out of you. 

The next few seconds went by in a flurry of fumbling, shifting and grabbing as you got yourselves situated for what was to come.  

Your hands grabbed the hem of his shorts and boxers and pulled them down further down his thighs, he then proceeded to flip the two of you over so that he was hovering above you, reached down to grab a hold of himself and lined himself up at your entrance. 

He didn’t get more than a second to adjust himself before you had wrapped your legs around his hips and pushed him inside of you.  

His head immediately fell into the crook of your neck at the feeling, but he didn’t waste a second before moving his hips and working to find a steady pace.  

Before you knew it, he was driving himself into you like a starved animal, grunting into your neck as he moved in long, hard strokes. 

The sound of your moans blended together with his as well as the sound of your bodies slapping together, and you had to bite your lip and concentrate to the point of your eyebrows creasing together in order to keep yourself as quiet as you possibly could, in an attempt not to wake up your neighbours. 

But soon enough, you’d reached the point where you couldn’t hold it in anymore, the point of your stomach knotting together familiarly as he picked up his pace and reached his hand down between your bodies to help you reach the edge of release. 

You pressed your head into the pillow and squeezed your eyes shut at the overwhelming feeling. 

“I- shit-” You moaned, clinging to his shoulders with all your might as you reached your climax. 

You dug your nails into the skin of his back and at the sudden addition of pain, Schlatt’s hips began stuttering and getting sloppier with every move.  

“Fuck.” He cussed into your neck, and before you’d gotten the chance to react, the familiar feeling of his seed spilling into you flooded your senses.  

You rode out your highs together and after doing so, both of your bodies fell limp where you laid while you struggled to catch your breaths. Schlatt’s head moved up from your neck to instead rest atop your bare chest, and his arms wrapped around you as the two of you eventually fell into a comfortable silence.  

It wasn’t long before he had snoozed off from a mixture of exhaustion and the feeling of your fingers running through his hair, light snores passing by his half-open mouth and fanning across your skin. 

Not feeling ready to sleep yet but being a bit too immobilized by the brute of a man now sleeping on top of you and trapping you to the mattress with majority of his body weight slumped down on you, you didn’t have many other options of entertainment other than to pick up your phone.  

As you did so, your lips immediately twitched at the sight of the message conversation with the man of the hour, where a new message had now made its way into the chat. 

The message was short and to anyone else, it probably wouldn’t have been much at all. But knowing your boyfriend, this was an as heartfelt of a message that you could ask for, and was enough for you to forgive him right then and there.  

He may have been too obstinate to apologize and admit to his flaws out loud, but for as long as you had been together, he had never left you to go to bed upset, and that’s what mattered. 

🦋 °○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○ 🦋 °○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○ 🦋

𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖑𝖞 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖌𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖆𝖓 𝖎𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗

TAGLIST: NONE YET

🦋 °○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○ 🦋 °○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○ 🦋

#🦋 #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt smut #jsclatt #schlatt x reader #schlatt imagine #schlatt smut #schlatt #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt #dsmp x reader #dsmp imagine #dsmp smut #dsmp

[rogueshadeaux]

Chapter Twenty-Four — Burden Borne

How much bloodshed? How many people would have to die so their graves could be the foundation of peace? How many more was I supposed to be able to stomach, to see as permissible? Why was there a fucking allowed amount in the first place? 

4.7k words | 16 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: Death, injuries, natural disaster, murder, testing condoned by the US Government

“We’ll call you with results as soon as we get them,” the doctor said as the nurse rushed off with the skin biopsy. Dr. Sims nodded, thanking her for her time as she finished dressing another new set of stitches and snapping off thick surgery gloves, disappearing past the curtain and out the door. 

Dad was pacing now, his shadow casting across the floor again and again as he passed by the open window. Brent was in his chair, steering clear of his stomps lest he wished to be bulldozed over. Dr. Sims double checked the new set of stitches on my leg, shaking his head slightly. 

No one would talk, and I think that’s what scared me the most about this. I’d just found out Augustine had some mystery power when we fought, something Dad and Dr. Sims weren’t even familiar with, and no one would say anything! It felt like I was attending my own wake, like my fate was already out of my hands. 

Dad was the first to break. “You ever heard of anything like this?” He asked Dr. Sims. 

Dr. Sims stood, helping me cover my leg back up with the blanket. “A power that can negate someone’s healing? No.” 

Dad went right back to pacing. “I didn’t even know tar could be a power,” he muttered. 

“I’ve…heard rumors,” Dr. Sims said, moving back to his computer and scrolling through it a bit. “But nothing like this.”

“What do we do?” Dad demanded.

I could see how Dr. Sims tensed even with his back turned, how he hesitated for a moment before saying to Dad, “I want to get samples before jumping to any conclusions. I know someone who could help, but not without that tar.”

Dad glanced over at me — only for a moment, though. It seemed like he couldn’t stomach looking at me for too long. “I can’t go right now,” He said pointedly. 

Dr. Sims logged out of the mini-laptop and closed in, turning in place. “I’ll go back to Salmon Bay, see if I can find anything.” He was already shrugging on his jacket by the time Dad agreed. “I’ll call you if the doctors get back to me before I return,”

Dr. Sims then turned to regard both Brent and I. “If either of you can think of anything else, tell your father.”

He left on hurried goodbyes, leaving the three of us in an awkward and tense silence.

Dad wouldn’t stop pacing, and Brent refused to look me in the eye. Both seemed angry, though I wasn’t really sure why — well, no, I knew why Brent was. He was up in arms because I had the gall to give a fuck about him enough to try and keep Augustine from making him malleable. All I knew was I couldn’t stand being in the room much longer. “Dad?”

He only hummed in response. “D’you think it’s okay if I take that bath?”

I got final confirmation from the doctor that it was okay so long as I didn’t get that hole in my neck wet, and left the two of them to ruminate on their issues, giving myself the time to worry about my own. 

I wasn’t prepared to face my reflection and see that’s what I looked like. I felt like I was more bandage and bruise than human; so many parts of my skin lit up blue, like I rolled around in spilled ink. My back was steeped in iodine and littered with black stitches, the skin around the slice on my side was bright red. My neck was even a little bit swollen on the left of it where that ball of concrete hit it. I couldn’t stomach looking at myself for long. It was just another reminder of how wrong everything was. 

The shallow water soothed my aches, thank god, but all that did was clear up enough room for my nerves to take hold. All I could think about was my fear. Why wouldn’t I heal, what was wrong with me? The water slid off of my legs with a laze to it, my powers working against gravity. It reminded me of that dress of water in my…dream? Hallucination? Purgatory? I didn’t know what it was. I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to know, because that’d be some confirmation of whether Mom was real or not. I wanted her to be real, I wanted her to be there — but that’d also mean something would have to happen to me if I was to ever meet her again. And now that I was a broken Conduit…

It felt like too much of a possibility, returning to her. 

But fuck, I’d give anything to make that hug real. To make those reassurances real. I just wanted my Mom, was that so bad? I just needed someone to tell me things were going to be okay. 

I broke down thinking about how gentle she was, how I missed out on a lifetime of that. Hallucination or not, I was homesick for a place I couldn’t return to. 

I didn’t come back out of the bathroom for an hour, but it didn’t matter — neither of them changed places. Dad was still as a statue now, leaned against the wall and looking out of the window at Seattle, but otherwise nothing changed. 

Well, that wasn’t true. The television program ended to show the mid-morning news, and I froze in the middle of braiding my hair to look at what was on it. 

Elliott Bay was flooded, boats misplaced and docks completely shredded, the roofs of some shacks at the ends of piers floating freely in the flood. There were flashes of businesses partially underwater in West Seattle, of people in Queen Anne sitting atop their roofs waiting to be rescued. Downtown wasn’t spared; the base of the Space Needle was a pool, a few unlucky people in hi-vis coats wading through the polluted murk. The stream cut to a simulated chart of the flooding, captioned Christmas Eve Tsunami 2036.

“What happened?” I asked, moving towards the wall the television was mounted on. Slowly, as the ache was already permeating my body again. I might have to live in water just to make it through this healing process painlessly. I finished buttoning the spare soft flannel Dad gave me in place of a pajama shirt, staring at the simulation as ten foot tall waters overtook the map. 

Dad cursed behind me, and before I knew it, the television was off, him holding the wired remote like it was an IED. He looked at me, bug-eyed, and said, “Jean—”

Why was he so freaked out? “Was there a tsunami?” I asked, like it wasn’t painfully obvious. The west was littered with fault lines, there were three in the Portland area alone — was there an actual, big earthquake this time? Did it flood Seattle? 

Brent was white as a ghost when I glanced back at him, making me pause. “Did…did someone get hurt?” I asked. Tsunamis can go both ways, right? Did the reservation get flooded?

They both stayed looking at me like that, like they expected me to break, and I could feel realization settle into the ache between my shoulder blades as I thought about Christmas Eve. About how the last thing I did was summon a huge wave to wipe Augustine and the Archangel soldiers off of the earth. I wasn’t there to pull it back like I did the whirlpool, to control how the tides would fall. 

Oh God. There was no earthquake, otherwise the news would have said so. There was just a tsunami, and I had an idea where it came from. “Did…” I choked out. “Did I…”

Dad slowly laid the remote back on the bed. “It’s not your fault,” He began, confirming everything I needed to know. Everything except one thing. 

“How many people died?” I whispered. 

Dad shook his head lightly. “Jeanie—”

I was already starting for the remote before he could say more, but he didn’t fight to stop me. Guess he knew I was going to find out regardless, and decided it’d be better to deal with the fallout than the fight. 

I didn’t need to turn the volume high. I didn’t even really need to try and search for the answer; it was there clear as day on the screen, 134 CONFIRMED DEAD, Over 3,000 INJURED.

One hundred and thirty four dead. 

“No,” I muttered, my uninjured hand shooting to my mouth. Oh my god, I did this. I killed all these people before Christmas. “No, no, no.” 

I didn’t feel the ground rushing towards me until Brent snatched me from the air, his hold pressing into my injured side and making me yelp. None of that mattered. I deserved every bit of pain, I deserved to hurt. I didn’t deserve for Brent to catch me from my collapse and help lower me to the ground as I began sobbing, nor did I deserve Dad coming around the bed to take me from his arms. How was I supposed to act like being treated well was okay when over a hundred people were dead from what I’ve done?

I was deaf to Dad’s reassurances, barely able to see his figure past the blur of my tears — his figure on the television, I mean. There was layman footage of him pulling back a wave, just enough to make the rush an ebb before disappearing into the water again. 

The only reason people were alive was because of Dad. The only reason I was, was because of Dad. How much more reckless was I going to get? “I killed those people,” I whispered, aghast. 

“Jean, you weren’t there, you were gone before—“ Dad started, but I cut him off with my head shaking. 

“No, no.” I sobbed. 

“This isn’t your fault—“ 

“Stop lying to me!” I demanded on a screech that sounded inhuman. I couldn’t do this anymore! My entire life was a fucking lie, he didn’t tell me the truth when I asked what happened to Mom’s brother — I couldn’t stomach another something sugared in half-truths to help me swallow it down. He hadn’t even told me about this, and he had time to! 

It was my water, my tsunami, that did this. “I did this,” I sobbed. 

Was this what Augustine was trying to protect Mom from? Feeling like she was a monster because of what her powers could do?

I watched the sun set over a distressed city, all cried out. The flooding seemed to have receded mostly, if that segment was to be believed, but that didn’t mitigate the damage. The destroyed homes, the destroyed lives. My power could kill so easily, and I didn’t even stop to care about anyone else when I was freezing. 

I didn’t think at all. That was the issue — I didn’t think. 

“—anything, Jean?” Dad’s voice broke through my thoughts. 

“Hm?” I hummed, looking up. Dad and Brent were standing in the middle of some kind of delegation, Dad with his coat on. 

“I said: did you want anything from the cafeteria downstairs?” Dad repeated. 

I just shook my head, looking back out the window. How the hell was I supposed to eat when my stomach felt like this? 

There was some more muttering but none of it really reached my ears. Footsteps, the door closing—

And then someone sitting on my bed. 

I looked over to Dad just as he finished taking off his coat, and asked, “Where’s Brent?”

“Figured he could get his own food,” Dad shrugged, tossing his coat onto the seat of the chair. “Wanted to talk to you, too.” 

Oh, great. 

I dropped my eyes, raising my one hand to meet my other so I could pick at the PICC. “Jean,” he called gently. “None of what happened is your fault.” 

“How is it not, Dad?” I whispered. I wanted to put fire behind the demand but I could barely even raise my voice. 

“You weren’t…” he hesitated. “Aware for it. You didn’t intentionally push those tidal waves into Seattle.”

I might as well have. 

Dad waited a while longer, probably for me to say something, and sighed when I didn’t. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for this. You were trying to protect yourself — and Brent — and you did. You know how proud I am about that? You know how many times I had to fight Augustine before—“

“It shouldn’t be at the expense of other people,” I interrupted. “I was trying to stop Augustine from killing the Akomish and I just killed way more people than she would have if I stood by,”

“But you didn’t,” Dad said pointedly. “You didn’t just stand by. I think that matters more.”

“Yeah, tell that to everyone who lost family on fucking Christmas.” I snipped. 

“You’re not gonna be the hero to everyone,” Dad continued. Thank God he didn’t chastise me for cursing, I think I would have lost it if he did. “No matter what you do, someone’s going to see you as a bad guy. They did me—”

“You didn’t kill over a hundred people!” I cut him off, lifting my head to meet his eyes. “You kept me from doing more damage! You don’t get t-to sit there and act like it wasn’t a bad thing! You know it’s bad — that’s why you didn't mention mom killing her brother, and you wouldn’t have even told me about the tsunami if I didn’t see it! You know it’s something to be ashamed of,”

There were times, when Dad would engage us in our little arguments and debates, that he’d turn on the stoic lawyer thing and we’d definitely lose the fight. There was just something about arguing emotions versus logic against a person that made you talk yourself into a corner. He wouldn’t be emotionless, mind you — he’d validate points that we made, empathize. But it always felt like he was trying to teach us to not let our emotions be the only thing that drove us. 

Dad dropped the bloodsucker facade for this fight. His eyes softened at the tears pooling in mine, and he bit on his cheek so hard it looked painful. “You’d just gone through hell, Jean, I didn’t want to make it any harder for you—”

“You can’t use that as an excuse,” I cut him off. “I asked you about Mom and Uncle Brent days ago. You promised no more lies and the next day you lied!”

“I didn’t lie,” He stated simply. “Your uncle died because of a gang war. That’s true.”

Oh my fucking god. I ground my teeth once I realized what he did, the bastard. “You used your stupid little perjury loopholes on me?”

“I didn’t think it was relevant—”

“It was, Dad, it was very relevant!” I scoffed. 

Dad leaned forward slightly. “And you would have wanted to know that? You would have wanted to know your Mom killed her brother by accident and it haunted her for the rest of her life? Your mom was on anti-psychotics because of the damage it did to her. She’d sob about it at least once a week. Augustine used that fact to get her to do her bidding, brainwashed your mother into being her perfect little sniper. Your mom deserved to be known for more than that, for better than that.”

“I would have thought that either way,” I insisted. “I would have forgiven almost anything she did, but you — you didn’t tell me, and now it feels like I can’t even trust you to give me the chance to choose.” I motioned towards the television. “You didn’t tell me what happened so that I could — so that I’d just know—”

“You needed to rest and heal before worrying about anything like that—”

I pointed to my broken arm slung in a cast, at the way the purple of its plastic almost faded away into the purple of my bruising. “That would have taken weeks! You know it’s something I should feel bad about, and that’s why you didn’t tell me. So I wouldn’t be ashamed of how I killed people.”

“You did not kill them.” Dad insisted, stressing every word. “It’s not your fault.”

“I caused the tsunami. I wasn’t in control, I didn’t think. That’s enough,” 

Dad grabbed my other hand when I went to drop it, and it took everything in me not to pull away. “You were…you were dying, Jean. When we found you in the Sound a few days after you disappeared, you were in this mass that left you barely warm enough to have a heartbeat. If it wasn’t for the Sound doing that, you would have died. You can’t blame yourself for not having control when you were about to die.”

“You don’t understand,” I finally decided, looking away. Back outside of that window, back to the skyline of Seattle. How many of them blamed me for what happened? 

Dad inhaled, and for a moment, stayed quiet. I knew he was probably just building another argument, something I wasn’t going to relate to at all. Something I wasn’t going to accept. Then he spoke, and what he said caught me off guard: “Do you know how many Akomish died because of Augustine?”

I looked up slowly, eyebrows raising. “Huh?” 

“When you went over the Seattle Uprising in school, did they mention how many Akomish died?” he repeated. I shook my head. “Forty-eight. One hundred and thirteen were interrogated, stuffed with fucking concrete, and almost half of them died.” He sighed. “When Augustine got there after your mom and Eugene broke out, I’d just got my first power. I had it for probably fifteen minutes, max. She thought the guy I got smoke from told me about her plan — the breakout and the DUP funding, all that. When I told her all he gave me was his power…she didn’t believe me. She thought I was covering for him, that I was making fun of her, and I…I didn’t show her I had powers. I could have tried. I could have done something, anything…but I froze. I watched her put concrete in Betty’s legs and I did nothing. She went through the reservation interrogating people, sticking concrete in them all, and by the time I came back with her power so I could undo it, almost fifty people had passed. I could have kept everyone from dying, and I didn’t.

“And you want to know something else? I’ve killed.” He stated plainly, admitting to the crime. “I’ve had to, to survive. To keep you safe, like in that alley. But I’ve also…I’ve done it because I wanted to. That anger your mom felt enough of to hunt down drug dealers? I’ve experienced it. I followed through with it.” 

I could feel the blood rush from my face. Dad’s killed people too? 

“I’ve been on both sides. At fault inadvertently, and directly involved. I’ve been in a middle ground where it had to happen. I understand. And I have enough experience to know that, what you did? Is not your fault. You weren’t out of control, you didn’t do it selfishly. You were dying and you did what you could. There’ll…there’ll be death in fights like this. Archangel is out hunting for blood, and fights like this sometimes can only be won with loss. But you cannot blame yourself for every loss that happens. You couldn’t prevent any of them, you shouldn’t have to carry that burden.” 

War isn’t won in battles, but bloodshed, Augustine had said. 

How much bloodshed? How many people would have to die so their graves could be the foundation of peace? How many more was I supposed to be able to stomach, to see as permissible? Why was there a fucking allowed amount in the first place? 

I stayed silent, sitting there for what felt like forever, picking at the cuticles on the hand connected to my broken arm. “Do you regret it?” I finally whispered, unable to look up.

“What?” 

“Killing someone,” I clarified, meeting his eyes. “It…do you regret it?”

Inhaling, he nodded. “Yeah, I do.” 

“Why?” I asked, still nearly silent. “Why did you…” 

Dad swallowed hard, and he seemed to be so far away as he thought about why. “I don’t want to justify what I did,” he started, “I can’t. It was wrong. I was on a warpath and didn’t care about anything but revenge. But I swear, I regret it. It’s haunted me since. It’s not something you can just forget, no matter how hard you try. And I regret not being honest with you. I shouldn’t have white lied my way out of explaining what happened with your mom, I’m sorry.”

I nodded, not opening my mouth to spit out some form of it’s okay because it definitely wasn’t. I didn’t feel like it was, at least. All I could keep thinking about were the casualties. 

Dad squeezed my hand gently, and said, “You should eat. They’re wanting to give you an antibiotic to prevent infections and you can’t have those without food,”

“Yeah,” I muttered, “Okay.”

Brent didn’t seem like he was holding onto his anger anymore, at least. Thank God — I wasn’t sure if I could take any more fighting. He wouldn’t really meet my eyes either though, even when we were facing each other as night came, trying to fall asleep. 

That was harder than it needed to be: sleeping in a hospital. Every noise seemed to carry further than possible through the halls; every machine beep, every patient’s cough, every nurse’s footsteps. My eyes may have been closed but it sure felt like my brain stayed awake through it all — which is why it was so easy to pick up on the hushed voices on the other side of the curtain. 

“—hell do you think it is?” Dad finished. 

“Don’t know,” Dr. Sims muttered back. 

“You said you’ve heard of this shit as a power before?”

“Tar? Yeah. Way back in the day, DARPA caught this woman that worked for the First Sons, some scientist. Had tar powers. She was one of the first Conduits they started experimenting on before the DUP became a separate thing from the DoD.”

Only about twenty percent of that made sense to me. 

I quietly rolled over to face the curtain that separated me from Dad and Dr. Sims, whose silhouettes were cast against the blue wall from the light of the bathroom. Dad was holding up a long tube of something, Dr. Sims standing across from him, arms crossed. 

“DARPA? Like, the government?” Dad asked. 

Dr. Sims’ shadow nodded. “Yeah. Turns out, they were funding the First Sons, probably the whole reason Empire City happened in the first place. The tar had mind-control abilities, and they were using it for some sort of revival of the MK-ULTRA project. Killed her over a whistleblower before the media could investigate and swept it all under the rug,”

“Jesus,” Dad breathed out. 

“You’ve missed a lot the past sixteen years,” Dr. Sims laughed mirthlessly under his breath. “There’s a lot of shit the public doesn’t know. The First Sons even used this stuff to get people to attack MacGrath during the Quarantine. Made people sick too,”

Dad’s hand lowered. “And this stuff’s in my daughter? Is that why she won’t heal?”

“That’s the thing,” Dr. Sims took the tube back. “I don’t know if it’s the same, or some mutated version from the experiments, or what. I know nothing about this stuff at all.”

Dad’s next breath was shaky. “Fuck,” his head shook. “I’m scared, man. This is Abbs all over again.”

“You don’t know that, D—”

“She stopped healing first.” Dad interrupted — almost painfully. “You remember! The healing went first, and then the speed, and then the fuckin’—” he cut off when his voice caught. “I thought there was something wrong with her. I thought something about her flipped. If the same thing’s happening to Jean? That — it means it might not have been a coincidence.”

“You think it might run in the family?” 

“I don’t know.” Dad tilted his head back slightly, like he was trying to keep bile from appearing. “I don’t know if I think it’s hereditary, or if…if someone maybe did something to Abbs.”

“Del, you don’t know if that’s—“

Dad’s hand swung wildly in my direction. “My kid’s got forty-six stitches! Her arm’s broken! Only other time I’ve seen a Conduit like this is when Abbs’ c-section scar got infected. We don’t get infections, we don’t get stitches. I don’t know if it’s something hereditary, or because of that shit, but I don’t like that it’s happening again.”

I blinked out of my sleep then. Mom…stopped healing, too? That was where her sickness started?

Dr. Sims hummed gently. “I’m worried too, but remember the exact same thing is happening to those old DUP agents.”

“Yeah — ‘cause they’re forced Conduits! Jean’s prime—”

“We can’t make any assumptions until we know more about what’s going on.”

Dad’s hands came up to run through his hair, and I could hear him sigh deeply. “So then what do we do?”

“I could run a microarray on her, see if it’s genetic. I’d want Brent’s as a base sample too.”

“And if it’s not that?” Dad demanded.

Dr. Sims hesitated for a moment. “I…know someone that could help us,” he began. “Someone that’s seen this stuff in action. Might have some connections, too. But…” he drew off. “You’re not gonna like it.”

The shadow of Dad’s head cocked to the side in curiosity, and they were silent for a full ten seconds before Dad’s head snapped straight again and he said, “No. Absolutely not.”

“Del, listen—”

“Not happening. Do you not remember last time?”

“That was almost eighteen years ago—”

“And it hasn’t been long enough! You weren’t there, man. He’s weird! I got this speech that didn’t make sense and he — the fucker wouldn’t even meet me after everything—”

“You’re still holding on to that?”

“He’s not even a Conduit!” Dad hissed on a whisper that was bordering a regular voice. The closest he could get to yelling. “He has no business being involved is this—”

“He is the closest we will ever get to talking to Cole MacGrath,” Dr. Sims interrupted. His silhouette raised the tube and shook it at Dad slightly. “You wanna know what this is? You wanna help Jean? He’s the only one that can help. Him, or the government — and you and I both know how that would go.”

Dad’s hands came up, and while I couldn’t really tell what he was doing, I knew he was probably pressing his palms into his eyes like he always did when he was frustrated. But then his head raised and looked my way, and my breath froze. Did he know I was eavesdropping? 

No, he didn’t. Looking towards where I was seemed to be the last cannonball that broke down the wall of his objection, because he sighed, entirely complicit and absolutely unwillingly, “Fine. Okay. How do we get in contact with him? I haven’t talked to him since that shit with Wolfe,”

“We’ve got a system. He likes to stay off the radar, but he’s not too hard to find.” Dr. Sims tucked the tube away in his pocket, saying “Take out your phone,” while doing so.

Dad did, the click of him unlocking it echoing off of the sterile walls. “Okay, now what?” 

Dr. Sims held out his hand, and that twinkling sound that always accompanied his power came back. It wasn’t like Dad’s; Dad’s had the underlying tone of TV static, where Dr. Sims’ almost sounded like what I imagined wizard magic would sound like. Their side of the curtain lit up, making me squint in discomfort at the sudden light change, and by the time the sound ended and the brightness dimmed, Dad was in the middle of cursing. “Eugene — fuck — I didn’t mean now—”

“I can only catch his signal when I concentrate on it,” Dr. Sims shrugged. “Otherwise it’s scrambled.”

“Yeah, okay, but I’d have liked to have slept before dealing with him,” Dad grumbled, the hand holding his phone coming up to his ear. I could barely hear the ringing that came from the receiver; it sang once, twice, and then was picked up, Dad sighing as the voice on the other side answered. 

“Zeke Dunbar?” Dad asked. “This is Delsin Rowe.” His body turned slightly in place so he could look where he knew I was, a final reminder of why he needed to call. “I need your help.”

#infamous erosion #infamous second son #infamous #delsin rowe #Eugene Sims #Fetch Walker #Sucker Punch Productions #I'm trying to add things to hide the other tags #Do not read any more of these tags for spoiler reasons #Finally. FINALLY. I GET TO TAG THIS NEXT ONE!!! #Zeke Dunbar #'oh cool a second son fic--' SIKE MOTHERFUCKERS THIS IS A ZEKE DUNBAR FANFICTION (/s) #ZEKE! ZEKE! ZEKE! ZEKE! #This is my PSA: catch up on your inFAMOUS 1 and inFAMOUS 2 lore. We're going back to our roots #I am collecting original characters like Pokemon. Am I possibly doing too much? yeah. Will it stop me? No

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Soft as silk, chapter 2

Summary: It has been some time since the wedding down in Storm’s End when Ned and Lord Robert come north to visit. It’s hard for Catelyn to see her good sister again after what happened when they last saw one another, and the whole ordeal is no less difficult for Ned. Can they ever be true friends? Or will it be impossible to keep themselves from returning to that impossibly sweet moment from their past?

i’m a lesbian and i love nedcat so for a very long time i have wanted to combine those things into one great thing. this is the result of that, a wlw nedcat fic. hope you’ll enjoy the product of years worth of brainrot <3

Eddara, Winterfell

She sunk down on the bed, let her face rest in her hands. She was already exhausted. Just looking at Catelyn was exhausting. Speaking to her was even worse. Not because Ned disliked her. She certainly did not. It was nothing but the matter of Catelyn making everything so terribly difficult.

Ever since her family left Storm’s End after the wedding she had thought of it. Much more often than she should have. Every night before she fell asleep. It didn’t matter how much she tried to push it away, forget about it, Catelyn was ever present in her thoughts.

Her brother’s wife. Catelyn had been wed to Brandon not long before Ned was wed to Robert. That Catelyn would be a perfect wife to Brandon and a good Lady of Winterfell had become obvious to Ned the moment she saw her. She had been poised and ladylike from the moment she rode through the gates. There had been no dislike between them

With a sigh Ned laid back on top of the furs. Looked up at the same canopy that she had looked at through her whole youth. It was a comfort to be back underneath it, to be in her own bedchamber again. Even as she had been in Storm’s End for some time the chamber in Winterfell was the one she thought of as her bedchamber. Just as she thought of Winterfell as her home.

It wasn’t her home anymore. Though it was Catelyn’s. Catelyn was Lady Stark, she lived in the bedchamber that had once belonged to Mother. In the beginning Ned had been unable to keep herself from feeling some resentment for that.

She had little reason to not like Catelyn. None at all. She wished there had been reasons, it would have made it simpler to push her away and disregard her. As it was that was an impossible task. Not made easier by that Catelyn would always be there. She was Brandon’s wife, Rickard’s mother and lady of their ancestral home. There was no escaping her.

Everything had been ripped open again because it had been so long since last they saw one another. Soon the dust would settle and things would return to how they had once been. If Ned could survive until then everything would be alright. It had to be so.

That her eyelids were very heavy became obvious to her only when she let her eyes close. It was easier to sleep in her own bed, much more so than the one she had in Storm’s End. She had traveled far, it had taken long. Her body felt much heavier than it usually did and her mind was slow.

The feast was hours away, no one would miss her, she could sleep.

~*~

The sound of her door creaking open made Ned shoot up. Immediately her eyes went to the window and indeed it was still light outside. She couldn’t have been asleep for very long.

Lyanna’s head poked into the room and she immediately grinned when she saw Ned blink herself awake.

“Thought you’d be here.”

Before Ned had a chance of finding her voice Lyanna had opened the door further and come into the room.

“By all means, come inside” Ned said under her breath as her sister closed the door.

There was a dream in her head that was just beyond the reach of recalling. There had been a child in it. And she was quite sure Catelyn had also been there. Though why and what she had done was impossible to say.

Lyanna threw herself down on the bed next to Ned.

“It’s been so long since last we saw one another and as soon as you have the opportunity to do so you go to your chamber?” she said, propping herself up on her elbows.

“I have traveled far, I’m tired. I thought I would get some rest before the feast tonight.”

She could not claimed to have slept very well on the road. She didn’t sleep very well down in Storm’s End either, kept having strange dreams.

“You will see so much of me you’ll be sick of my face by the time I leave again, you need not worry” she added.

Lyanna sat upright, scooted close enough to Ned to lay an arm around her shoulders.

“It’s good to have you back, the boys get a little tedious.”

“I can imagine.”

Ned loved her brothers dearly and wholeheartedly, though by the gods could they be irritating. Even more so when they were together.

She had always known she would be the first to leave. Brandon would stay in Winterfell and serve as lord, but she was the second eldest and she would be brought to another man’s castle to serve as lady there. That had not made the thought of her family without her any easier.

“I would have thought you had forgotten us with all you have to do down in Storm’s End?” Lyanna said teasingly.

She was smiling, Ned did not feel like smiling. They kept asking her about Storm’s End when the whole thing with the visit was that she was in Winterfell. She would return to her life down there soon enough, could her visit not be about Winterfell?

“You cross my mind every now and then.”

“I will settle for that.”

Lyanna had never been good at being still, that did not seemed to have changed. She left the bed, crossed the room and went to stand by the window to look outside. Down at the yard below.

“Are the stormlanders treating you well?” she asked.

“They have been very welcoming,”

More so than she had expected, in truth. At least when she was within hearing. Perhaps they all hated her and had learned not to express that opinion when Robert was nearby. His fury was never far away and he had presented her as something the gods had brought them. Bless him, he had always been sweet to her.

Ned also left her spot on the bed. It felt strange to sit when Lyanna was standing.

“Well, their new lady is impeccable” Lyanna said with a voice so sweet it seemed coated in honey.

One castle in itself was much like another. The duties a lady had to carry out she had learned to do long before she arrived in Storm’s End.

“Stop that” she sighed.

“Oh do forgive me.”

Still in that mocking tone.

“Lyanna.”

Lyanna did a small curtsy before laughing.

“I’m just glad you were not born a boy” she then said.

“Why?”

“Because had you been a boy I would have been the one down in Storm’s End now. I would not have done as well as you.”

Lyanna wouldn’t have liked it very much down there, it was obvious to Ned. Though one had to do one’s duty, uphold the family honour. It was the only thing that truly mattered. What she did or did not want was of no importance.

“You’re glad Father betrothed me to Robert instead of you?” Ned asked.

“Yes, I am.”

A cold wave came over Ned, sent a shiver down her spine. She could not say why, though Lyanna’s words irked her.

“You’ll be wed soon enough, too” she coolly reminded her sister.

Lyanna looked at her for a long while, her grey eyes seemed to search Ned’s face. The silence dragged on forever, but Ned would not be the one to break it. She wanted to know what Lyanna would say. Or not say.

Ned had always been good at silence. Of course she preferred the silence of being alone in the godswood or the silence of a night with no wind. Though she would also not speak simply to fill the uncomfortable silence that sometimes happened when she was with someone else.

As always she was not the one to say something first, it was Lyanna.

“How many bastards does Robert have?”

Ned sighed.

“It does not matter what he did before we were wed. He’s my husband now, he loves me.”

She had long since decided it was better not to dwell on that. It would not make anything better. Robert was her husband, there was no changing that. If she was to ever be happy in Storm’s End that was all she needed to think about.

Lyanna smiled. Not so much a happy smile as a condescending one.

“Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man’s nature.”

“It also cannot change that he is my husband. You will not get to choose your husband either, it would do you good to stop thinking of what men do when you cannot see them.”

Even as Robert insisted he loved her so she kept herself to that rule. Turned away when it was necessary. It was impossible to change it and it didn’t help to look. The sooner Lyanna realised that the better.

“Not very romantic” Lyanna mused.

“You’re acting like a child.”

Soon enough she would have to face the reality. The truth was that sometimes it was better to do it with the eyes shut.

Lyanna played with the end of her braid. Fiddled with the silver beads that were fastened there. Her smile faded and met its death. She seemed much smaller without it.

Ned looked at her little sister. Little sister. The one she had shielded from the fate of being the Lady of Storm’s End by simply having been born a girl.

“I believe Father intends to betroth me to one of the Ryswells” Lyanna said.

“Has he said so?”

Not that it mattered much to her, she would most likely not be able to travel north for the wedding. At least not if it was anytime soon.

“Not outright, not yet. Though with two southern marriages he needs to look north for mine.”

The Rills were in the North. Beautiful lands. And the Ryswells were known for their fine horses, with how much Lyanna enjoyed riding she would do well there.

“The Rills are not too far away from Winterfell” Ned said. “It’s the north.”

“To tell the truth I would rather they were.”

“Why would you want to be far away from Winterfell?”

Lyanna snorted as if it was obvious.

“Perhaps I want something other than Winterfell.”

There it was agin. The childlike, romantic longing. They had been in the south for a tourney once, Lyanna had all but fallen in love with a man playing a harp. She has thrived among singers and knights and people telling stories. There was much of that in the south, Ned had seen plenty of it. Yet all she wanted was Winterfell.

“Far away from Winterfell is much the same as Winterfell. The only difference is that it’s not home.”

The difference Lyanna seemed to desire did not exist for them. Ned could not bring herself to wish it did.

“I am not lesser than you for what I want, Ned.”

“I never said you were.”

On the contrary it was easy to get the impression that Lyanna believed her lesser for having accepted that which she could not change.

Robert was a good husband to her. Better than many other would have been. He was sweet and kind to her, he treated her well and he loved her. And he was handsome. What many maidens dreamed of.

Despite everything Lyanna smiled then. Ned could not understand how people could be so quick to smile.

”I have missed your frown” she said. ”None of the others can frown like you.”

Ned said nothing to that, merely rolled her eyes. She was not surprised Lyanna said that, it had been ongoing since they were little girls.

”Well, the reason for why I came is that Brandon so kindly asked for everyone to start preparing for the feast” Lyanna then informed her. ”I do believe he wants it all to happen smoothly now when we have Lord Baratheon here for a visit.”

Of course he did. Brandon would not let anything go wrong when he had such an important guest under his roof.

”Then I better make our brother happy.”

Lyanna walked past her, and when Ned didn’t turn to look after her she took the opportunity to tug at her braid.

Ned, not in the least prepared for it, yelped in a very undignified matter and quickly pulled the braid over her shoulder.

”Get out!”

Her sister laughed and Ned could hear her laughter continue even as the door fell closed between them. Lyanna never changed, she was always the same. A bloody menace, that was.

Ned would have liked to bathe, though she did not believe there was time for it and she never would have heard the end of it if she was not ready on time.

No one had stayed in her rooms since she left Winterfell, that became obvious to her when she found her gowns still in the wardrobe. She had not brought all of her clothes with her south, most of her gowns were much too warm for the southern weather. Though she was no longer in the south and gowns trimmed and lines with fur were not too warm.

She had already decided upon a gown of grey wool with sleeves trimmed with white fur when she realised perhaps they were not the right colours for the occasion. She was Lady Baratheon. She was a Stark, she was on a visit to her home, though she came alongside her husband.

Even as she hesitated, looked at the gowns she had brought with her, her decision fell upon the grey one. She was visiting her family, she was allowed to dress in their colours. Her own colours.

Upon her arrival in Storm’s End and all the way to a weeks after her wedding she had taken to the hairdos the stormlander women wore. Every little strand of hair tied up and back or kept in a hairnet so that the wind could not take hold of it. Though in the end she returned to what she knew, instructed the maids to do her hair the way she had done it at home.

Ned sat in a chair in front of her looking glass and watched hands that knew just what to do at work. She needed not instruct, could sit in silence. In her room in her home. And then and there everything was well.

Though the peace in her chamber of course could not last. Soon enough she held Robert’s arm and they walked into Winterfell’s Great Hall together. Ahead of them were Brandon and Catelyn, behind them Benjen and Lyanna.

The faces that looked back at her from the benches were ones she knew. The feasts in Storm’s End were not the same. It didn’t seem to matter how much time passed; the faces were unknown to her every time.

Robert leaned down to speak to her and his warm breath washed over the side of her face.

“You are beautiful” he said.

He was one of few people to have ever told her that. Not that she had ever cared for it much, though she had once overheard one of Father’s lords saying she looked dull. Robert didn’t believe her to be dull.

“You look quite handsome yourself, my lord.”

Robert kissed the corner of her mouth and she smiled.

That smile lasted all the way until she realised she had been seated next to Catelyn. Of course. She should not have been surprised. Lady Baratheon seated next to Lady Stark. She wondered if Catelyn had been the one to make the seating.

It was hard to listen to Brandon as he stood up and spoke. She looked at him as if she did, though not a word stuck with her. If they even reached her in the first place, that was. All of it was pointless. Why a feast when they could have had a small supper together? It would have been much more pleasant.

“I hope your rest was easy, my lady” Catelyn said stiffly when Brandon had finished speaking and they were all sat down.

She looked at Catelyn for a long while, wondered what would happen if she didn’t answer.

“How do you know where I went?” she asked after having decided to not entirely let go off her manners.

Her words were sharper than intended, though she did not regret it.

Catelyn’s eyebrows went a little higher up.

“It seemed likely you would go to your chamber. Though forgive me if the question was intrusive.”

Their eyes were locked for another moment, then Catelyn had hidden her face in her cup. So Ned did the same.

A wine that was a little too sweet for her liking. Something Robert had brought from the south, she suspected. Her husband was awfully fond of that sweet wine.

“Your husband so graciously brought wine for the feast” Catelyn said as if she had heard her thoughts. “From the Arbor, perhaps?”

By the tone of her voice it was obvious it was a question. Ned was surprised by that Catelyn had continued speaking with her. Though she supposed wine was neutral ground.

“I would not know” she replied.

“Well, either way it is a very a good wine.”

If Catelyn was making another attempt at agreeable conversation then why not entertain it? Ned saw quite clearly that there were few benefits to arguing with her good sister. Perhaps they never could be friends, perhaps that opportunity had already passed them. Or maybe it would come with time.

“Too sweet for my taste, if I am to be honest.”

She much preferred a dry red if she was to drink wine. The only sweet wine she liked was the mulled wine served in the north. To return inside when the cold outside was biting and feel the warmth of a mug of mulled wine.

Catelyn looked down in her cup, swirled the deep red liquid around. Her lips had turned slightly upwards.

“You northerners, you’re all the same” she mused.

“I’d say the same for you southrons” Ned snorted.

Then she emptied the rest of her cup. She would not be particular about her drink that evening, she decided. It would do her no good.

“Are you not one of us now?” Catelyn asked.

“Are you not one of us?” Ned retaliated.

If she was a southerner than Catelyn was a northerner. She had been wed to Brandon longer than Ned had been wed to Robert.

The silence that fell between them after that was made harder by the knowledge of that it seemed possible for them to speak without it turning sour immediately. Though perhaps that had been nothing but luck.

The rest of the meal was spent talking to everyone but the other. It made all of it much more pleasant. Lyanna and Benjen never seemed to cease with endless stories of what had happened since they last saw one another.

Though Winterfell was much the same. At least it sounded that way. And Ned was happy to lean back in her chair and listen to her brother and sister. It had been long since she last heard their voices and she could never know when she would next hear them once she left Winterfell again.

Ned tried not to think too much about that the hall was filled with other loud people. They were her people, many of them she had known all her life. She was very glad to see them instead of the strangers of Storm’s End. That did not make it any less true that she would have preferred to sup with only her family instead of sitting through a feast. It was overwhelming. Though at least there was good food and good ale.

“My lady, would you dance with me?” Robert asked once they had finished eating.

“I would dance with you, my lord” Ned said. “Though there is no dancing yet.”

Many were still eating, no part of the hall had been cleared for dancing yet. They could wait a little.

“We can see to that” Brandon immediately said.

“That is not–“

She was interrupted by Brandon standing up and clapping his hands. Soon enough the hall went quiet and everyone turned their eyes to him, waiting for what he had to say.

Ned remained firm in her belief that they could have waited. They had just eaten, she would have rather sat there for a while. Why the urgency to move around?

“Let us clear the hall for dancing!” Brandon called.

He was met with cheers and mugs being banged against the table. The sound of it was close to deafening.

It grew even louder as people began pushing and pulling tables aside to make room for dancing. So much sound in a closed space was much the opposite of music. Or much like very poorly played music.

She noticed Catelyn grimacing at the loud sound. She also noticed how Brandon laughed at her and leaned towards her to say something. Whatever he said made her roll her eyes and he then kissed her hair. Catelyn’s hair was so soft.

When Robert stood up Ned also did so. It took only seconds before she had Robert’s arm around her waist. He was warm and strong. It was like leaning against a sun warm rock.

“You disappeared before” he said. “Lady Catelyn returned without you.”

She wished he had not asked.

“Forgive me” she said in a low voice. “I was very tired and in need of rest.”

In need of rest and to be away from Catelyn for a while.

“You need not apologise. I merely wondered what had become of you.”

That was a good question. She also wondered what had become of her.

“I was in my bedchamber” she let him know.

They had been given separate chambers. They had slept in separate chambers ever since they were wed as Robert had struggled sleeping with her. She moved around too much in her sleep. Truth be told she quite liked having her bed to herself. That way she did not have to worry about what she did when she was sleeping.

“That was what I suspected.”

As the terrible noise finally came to an end Robert took her arm and led her to the space that had been cleared for dancing. She would have preferred not dancing the first dance as she knew there would be less onlookers later. The interest in the first dance was far greater than the interest in the last.

Brandon had asked Catelyn for a dance. Catelyn was a much more graceful dancer than Ned was, she had noticed that during Brandon’s wedding feast. Of course she was. How could she not be? She was beautiful and eloquent and graceful. Everything a noblewoman was supposed to be.

Ned tried to keep her eyes on Robert as they danced. Forced herself to look at his handsome face, return his smile. Though her eyes kept darting to Catelyn. And when their eyes had met briefly several times she began suspecting that Catelyn was looking at her in return.

“You seem distracted” Robert noted after a while.

“Do I?”

“Often I look at you and wonder what’s on your mind.”

“Rarely anything important.”

It was the truth. It was not important. Not in the least.

Robert spun her around suddenly, she did not follow well enough. Her misstep must have taken him by surprise because he didn’t manage to hold her upright and so she stumbled backwards. Right into a person that crashed into the person they were dancing with.

“What are you doing?” Brandon exclaimed.

He had caught Catelyn, whom Ned had stumbled into.

“Making a fool of myself, it seems” Ned sighed.

She would have liked to disappear. Sink through the floor and return when there was no one around to look at her. The eyes of everyone around them was burning her skin.

Catelyn didn’t seem to feel the same dismay as Brandon. No, she smiled. And when she saw that Ned took notice of that she raised a hand to cover that smile.

“Forgive me” she said, as if Ned had not been the one to fall into her.

“Whatever for?”

Catelyn lowered her hand, showing her smile again. Even as Ned felt overwhelmed and stupid for not managing a simple spin she was struck by what a beautiful smile it was. How terribly annoying.

“Should we finish the dance?” Robert asked.

Ned turned to him and knew that she could not tell him no. So she nodded and stepped close to him once more.

Though they managed to dance without further mishaps Ned quickly returned to the table once it was over. Before Robert had time to ask her for another dance. There she once again filled her cup and drank deep from it. It would be a long night.

~*~

Her head was swimming, she shouldn’t have had so much to drink. She rarely drank much at all, didn’t like the way it made her feel. The loss of control she liked even less. It was as if her thoughts were not her own.

Catelyn was beautiful. Not in her own way or only when the light fell on her in a certain or just as she smiled. No, she was truly beautiful. With her thick auburn hair that always seemed to fall perfectly around her face, the light freckles on her face and the blue eyes one could drown in. Her smile was so bright and kind and…

Ned felt how she slumped back in her chair. She wanted to hide away in a corner somewhere, but that wouldn’t do. Neither would the thoughts of Catelyn do. Not at all, not in the least.

When she tried to put her elbow on the armrest of the chair to lean her head against her hand it slipped and all she succeeded with was punching herself in the face. That wretched ale. And wine.

As she tried to sit upright again she noticed that Catelyn had glanced at her. For a moment grey eyes met blue, then the blue eyes had quickly averted themselves.

There had already been a faint blush on Catelyn’s cheeks, but Ned believed they became even redder then. Catelyn was beautiful even when she blushed. She was even more beautiful than usual when she blushed.

Ned remembered how sweet the sight was up close and hated herself for it. It was gone, in the past, a very stupid thing.

She couldn’t stay there. Catelyn’s eyes on her made her unable to be still, made her want to leave her body. She had yet to visit the godswood, she would go there. Find some solace with the gods.

When she stood up she had to lean against the table for a moment. The room was spinning around her, she had left her chair much too quickly.

Though she didn’t allow herself more than a few deep breaths before standing upright to walk away. No one would miss her, she had been there long enough.

She made her way to the doors through the crowded hall. No one took notice of her as she passed them. She disappeared among all the men and women moving around.

The night outside was cloudy and cold winds swept through the yard. There was less movement outside, though there the darkness would keep her shielded from sight. Or so she believed.

She had not come further than ten steps out of the hall before someone called for her.

“Ned!”

Ned stopped, but didn’t immediately turn. What did Catelyn want that time? What did they have to say to one another?

When she did not answer Catelyn came closer. Ned only turned her head when she stood next to her. Even then she wondered if it would not be better if she just walked away.

“What do you want?” Ned sighed.

Catelyn cleared her throat uncomfortably.

“I suppose I wish to apologise if I have in any way upset you.”

The smile that appeared on her face after she had finished speaking was a very nervous one.

“There is no need to pretend you don’t know what happened” Ned answered.

It was ridiculous. Of course Catelyn was more than aware of exactly what it was that had upset her. That had upset both of them.

“Please, everything would be much easier if we simply agreed to forgive each other and move past it.”

They shared common ground in that they wanted to move past it, though Ned had trouble seeing what part she had in what had happened.

“What should you forgive me for?” she asked sharply. “You did it, the fault lies with you.”

Catelyn’s eyes widened and she drew back as if Ned had struck her.

“No no no no, you do not get to say that to me” she hissed.

“It’s the truth.”

Catelyn had been the one to kiss her. She had been the one to lean forward and press her lips to Ned’s.

“You are like this, you believe yourself to be so much better than everyone else even as you’re not. You returned the kiss.”

“I did not return anything!”

“You did!”

Catelyn was infuriating. There was no other way to put it. Infuriating and terribly bad at seeing her own faults and flaws. It would have been much easier to move past it if she had acknowledged that it was all due to her.

Ned had to look away as she saw how tears began rising in Catelyn’s eyes. She could not bear to look at it. Even as the tears most likely were due to anger.

“You returned the kiss” she repeated. “I know you did. I felt it.”

She sounded almost desperate towards the end. Against herself Ned understood her desperation.

“You are mistaken” she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You had your hand in my hair.”

Catelyn laid a hand on her arm and then immediately removed it again. When Ned looked at her she held her hand out in the hair, flexing her fingers indecisively.

“It was a mistake” she continued. “A mistake we made together, nothing but. It is not who we are. We need not fight over it.”

It was most definitely not who they were. And most definitely not a mistake they had made together. If she would just stop insisting it was on the both of them?

“Are we fighting?” Ned asked coolly.

“Why must you act this way?”

It would have been so very easy to return the question, though Ned had another one she much rather would have had an answer to.

“Why did you do it?”

Why had Catelyn kissed her?

The silence was long and suffocating. Several times Catelyn opened her mouth as if to say something and then promptly shut it again. She made small gestures with her hands, seemingly believing that would help her in her search for words. All this while Ned merely stood there and watched her, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know!” Catelyn finally exclaimed.

She threw her arms out to her sides.

“So all this and you do not even know?”

It was impossible to say what answer she would have wanted. She tried to push away the disappointment at the one she got. No, it couldn’t be disappointed. Why would she be disappointed?

“What do you mean by ‘all this’?” Catelyn questioned.

“This. What we’re doing right now.”

“What would you rather we do?”

A forbidden thought that made it impossible to look at Catelyn entered Ned’s mind. She had had too much to drink. Much too much.

“I never meant for it to be like this” Catelyn said when Ned remained silent.

“I know.”

That had been very obvious from the beginning. From the way Catelyn’s eyes had widened after they had parted. How she had looked almost horrified at what had taken place.

Then and there she didn’t look horrified. She looked sad and so damnably beautiful. Big, blue eyes and auburn hair and a freckles face with high cheekbones. And her lips were chapped, though Ned still knew it would feel good to kiss them.

She forced herself to turn away before she could act on the impulse. They would get nowhere, it was quite clear. As much as that pained her.

“I bid you goodnight, Lady Catelyn” she said.

“I wish you sweet dreams, Lady Eddara” Catelyn replied in a voice that sounded strangled.

Ned hoped she would not dream at all. Though she would return to her chamber immediately. The godswood would have to wait, she needed to go where no one would follow. Where she could lock a door and keep everyone on the other side of it.

By the time she had closed that door she was out of breath. Not because she had walked too fast, it was simply hard to breathe. No air reached her lungs, it got stuck in her throat. As if she was going to weep but never did.

There came a knock on the door, before she could pull herself together enough to answer it opened. In her rush to get inside she had forgotten to lock it.

“Good evening, my love” Robert said and Ned had to keep herself from grimacing.

“Good evening.”

She knew what he was after. There was only one reason for him to come to her chamber at that hour. He was seeking to perform his duties to her. To make her with child.

Robert’s kiss was rough and she could taste drink on him. He could most likely taste the same on her. It was so different from how Catelyn had kissed her. Even as she didn’t want to she compared every kiss he gave her to the one she had shared with Catelyn. It shouldn’t have been so.

Ned could not claim to particularly want it. At times she did, at times she truly welcomed his affections. When not she had comforted herself with the thought of the children it would give them. Though that did not matter. What mattered was that she did her duty. That she performed what she had to as Robert’s wife.

Robert undressed with eagerness, her hands were shaking so much she had trouble doing the same. Though in the end she was naked on her bed and Robert was on top of her.

No child would come, she was convinced of it. She had lost all the others. So she merely closed her eyes and tried to keep herself from thinking of how heavy Catelyn had made her chest.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Gave the fuck up on finishing it all and posting it on a schedule because I got too excited about posting this and didn’t want to wait more. Don’t know when there will be more, but hopefully sometime soon!

#wlw nedcat <3333 they are everything to me. love them. my darlings #catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ned stark #ned x cat #my fic #soft as silk

[somber-sapphic]

Down Hill Here We Go

Lena feels terrible, Alex is worried, Kara is...?

Word Count: 1718

{Go To Part 1}

-----

Lena curled herself up on the little couch in the Tower as Alex went hunting for…something, the brunette wasn’t really sure. She wasn’t listening. She was embarrassed, miserable and absolutely exhausted. To make everything worse, Kara was nowhere to be seen. That just made the already grouchy woman angry. Kara had texted her to drag her into the Tower, and now she didn’t show up.

Her throat was burning beyond belief, and her stomach was starting to flip. Her skin felt like it was on fire, while her insides were frozen. There was no in between. Her nose was running and stuffy, her body ached, and the fatigue that she felt couldn’t be matched by any late night working that she’d ever endured.

She could hear Alex rummaging around not too far away, but found herself desperately wishing that she would stop searching for stupid cold medicine and hold her. As much as she hated herself for wanting that attention, she just wanted someone to hold her. At least she trusted Alex. Lena was about ready to go curl up in a stranger's lap for the human contact she so desperately wanted. With a soft sigh, she closed her eyes, taking a brief minute to revel in how good it felt to block out all of the light that was trying to fry her brain.

When she opened her eyes a second later, Alex was nowhere to be seen.

“A-lex?” She croaked, struggling to turn around so that she could at least see the woman. She was strangely terrified that she would be left alone. Probably something to do with all of the abandonment issues and emotionally abusive family. No time to go through all of that Lena mused, still trying to see where Alex was. When no answer was given, she tried again a little louder.

“Alex? D-did you leave?” Lena bit off the end of the sentence, avoiding asking if Alex left her, which would imply that she actually wanted Alex around. She did of course, but it's not like she actually wanted the older woman to know that. She was a Luthor, tough and never willing to show weakness. That reluctance to show weakness was almost what cost Lena her family. She was working on being more open, but it was hard. She resolved to sit in silence until Alex got back, knowing that if she stood up she was likely to fall on her face. Her equilibrium was all over the place, thanks to the fever.

Naturally, Lena’s anxiety chose to ignore her decent plan to stay put and listen to Alex’s request. She clung to the ratty blanket that the brunette had managed to find before running off hoping desperately that it would provide her with some much needed warmth. She didn’t understand why everything had to be so cold. Was it like a Tower rule or something?

Lena took a deep breath, which immediately resulted in a bout of wracking coughs, so bad that if she were in public, someone probably would’ve stopped to see if she was okay. The answer would have been ‘no’, because it felt like her lungs were somehow on fire whilst swimming in a vat of mucus. A glob of the stuff filled her mouth, and she grimaced, not sure what to do. She settled on what she believed to be the least gross option, of spitting it into the blanket. It wasn’t like anyone would be brave enough to touch if after she was better anyway.

She stood shakily, the world spinning with her as she tried to make her way across the room. She was scared, and wanted to find Alex. Unfortunately, her body had different ideas. Lena managed to take two wobbly steps away from the couch before her legs gave out and she sprawled across the floor in a sort of Lena puddle.

“Lena!? What the fuck were you thinking?” Alex demanded skidding across the floor to sit by Lena's side. She cupped a hand over the other woman’s cheek, eyes filled with worry for the woman she considered to be her baby sister.

“I…I wanted to find you. You left, I got…I got scared. But I fell…” Lena had tears in her eyes that she was desperately trying to hold off. Her damn emotions were winning this battle.

“Oh kiddo, I went to find you some flu medicine but when I came back you were asleep. I left you a note,” She pointed to the table by the couch, where the piece of paper sat. Wow. Lena was apparently quite out of it. “I figured that it’d be best if I let you sleep, so I went to go train with the others. I’m so sorry I scared you. I honestly thought you would sleep for another three hours.” Alex chuckled quietly, forcing a calm into her voice that she didn’t feel.

Lena sniffled and reached up to wipe her running nose on her sleeve. It was gross, but she didn’t have any tissues, so what choice did she have? Alex grimaced slightly, about ready to do what parents had to do with their toddlers when they had stuffy noses.

“I know you don't feel well, but that’s beyond gross. Can we get you back up on the couch? I didn’t get a chance to check your temp earlier, and you feel too hot.”

“Floors good.” Lena mumbled, an intense shiver wracking her frail body. She closed her eyes again, happy to be finally at a neutral temperature. She could tell that Alex wasn’t pleased, but the other woman still stroked her hair and massaged her head. It felt so, so good. Of course, her comfort was short-lived. Only two minutes had passed when loud footsteps jogged her from her moderately contented state.

“I will pick you up, and you will not like it. I suggest you cooperate.” A gruff voice said, pulling her from the calm almost dreamland that made her feel safe. The words were harsh, but the tone was extremely warm. When she peeled her eyes open, she saw J’onn standing above her, a small almost fatherly smile painted on his lips. She smiled back (she thought, really it was more of a grimace) and opened her mouth to reply. All that came out was a pathetic squeak. Lena cleared her throat, brows narrowing in concern.

“Hi J’onn.” She croaked, satisfied at the return of her voice. Clearing her throat had made her feel like she was swallowing burning knives, as well as the glass that had already embedded itself in her throat. Alex made a nervous mother-henning sound and tightened her grip around Lena. If only Kara were there. Kara would fix everything. Stupid Kara needed to come home.

With Lena’s permission, J’onn picked her up, and deposited her carefully back onto the couch. Alex tried to hand her the blanket, but she wrinkled her nose, remembering what she had spat into it earlier. Upon seeing the sick girl's expression, Alex dropped the piece of fabric and wiped her hand on her pants.

“Right. Do I need hand sanitizer?” She asked, one eyebrow raised. Lena dropped her gaze guiltily and nodded. She felt tears welling in her eyes, angry with herself for feeling so emotional. “Hey, hey, hey, don’t cry. It’s alright Le, you’re sick. It’s okay. J’onn, can you go get me a blanket, thermometer, Advil and a glass Pedialyte? I have a feeling we’re gonna have trouble keeping our witch hydrated.” Lena whined quietly and reached out for the blanket on the floor. She was cold, she wanted the blanket regardless of how gross it was.

J’onn was only gone for a few minutes, but Lena hated every second. She wanted the blanket that Alex wouldn’t let her have, she wanted Kara, but most of all, she wanted to sleep. Which she couldn't do without a blanket or Kara.

“Where’s Kara?” She mumbled, rubbing her forehead exhaustively.

“She had to do something for Cat-Co honey. She won’t be back for at least a day. We can call her later if you want to though.” Alex suggested, trying to examine Lena without having to actually examine her. If there was any sort of medical tool involved Lena would bolt. She hated doctors more than she hated being sick. She was on record saying that she would rather die than be stabbed by an evil genius wearing a white coat.

J’onn arrived with the blanket and took his leave as soon as the brunette had curled herself up into a tight ball under the covers. He figured there was no reason to stress her out more by staying if Alex could handle it on her own.

“Alright you,” Alex said, brandishing the thermometer in front of Lena’s face. Instinctively she flinched away, her fever clouded brain, nervous at the prospect of her temperature being checked. Maybe her fever was trying to get some kind of revenge on her, because it certainly didn’t make very much sense. “I’m just going to take your temperature. It's not going to hurt. Open your mouth for just a second, okay?” Alex murmured, speaking as if she would to her daughter. It was barely 10:30 and she already missed Esme.

Reluctantly Lena opened her mouth to reveal a spray of white spots coating the back of her red, raw throat. The older woman’s heart sank as she placed the thermometer inside Lena’s mouth, murmuring about how good she was doing while trying to come up with a plan of action. It was pretty obviously Strep, but she didn’t have any antibiotics laying around, she should, she’d need to remember that, but this wasn’t the DEO. She didn’t have everything she needed to treat Lena’s current ailment. Plus, judging by the runny nose, Strep wasn’t her only problem. With a heavy sigh, she removed the now yelling thermometer from her mouth and prepared to say something she knew Lena would instantly reject.

“Honey…I need to take you to Urgent Care. It looks like you’ve got Strep Throat, and I have no way to fix it here.” Lena’s face palled visibly as she processed the information and planned an escape. She would not be seeing any doctor. She would be fine on her own.

#fever #sickfic #fanfiction #sick fanfiction #supercorp #alex danvers #kara danvers x lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #lena lesbian luthor #lena luthor #sick lena luthor #hurt/comfort #hurt/angst #caretaking #sick character #minor whump #fluff #fluff and angst

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

"you're gonna get through this" for saving eddie instead of letting him die? i'll be honest i don't watch st so i don't know exactly how this might work but i know he didn't deserve to die

Hope I did him justice 🙏

Request more comfort prompts here!

.....

"Goddamn it Eddie, where are you?!” Racing through the upside down, your heart was beating loudly, breaths labored as you searched for the metalhead who ran off.

That idiot severed the only tie he had back to the real Hawkins when you and Dustin went through, and sprinted away to distract more demobats.

But he already did that with a one-man heavy metal concert! The three of you could’ve easily left right now.

So why was he risking his life yet again?

The answer was probably simple: Because he’s sick of running.

You’ve seen it and heard it before; Eddie’s cowardly nature that constantly made him run away from danger and all things horrific. From Chrissy’s murder to a town who wanted him dead..he tried running from it all.

Now he wanted to save people that looked down on him as nothing but some cultist freakshow.

Yep..that was Eddie, alright.

This sounded like an insane session of D&D: fighting swarms of demonic bats in an alternate dimension while your friends hunted down Vecna, the “main villain”. How badly you wished that’s all it was, or that this was some just crazy dream as a result of your obsession with the fantasy game.

But this wasn’t a dream nor a board game. 

This was real.

Eddie could die here--any of you could. But if push comes to shove, you’d rather die side-by-side than leave him all alone.

You just prayed you wouldn’t be too late to help him.

Eventually you found yourself amid a vicious swam of bats. It was almost blinding, with some noticing you and trying to take bites out of your flesh. But when one chomped down on your arm, it only tasted the metal from the makeshift armor pieces you wrapped around yourself as a precaution.

You could never be too safe.

With your handheld weapon you swatted at the monsters like they were flies, all while shouting for Eddie. You almost couldn’t see anything; they were coming at you from every angle.

“Eddie!! Where are you?!!”

You ceased your killing streak to listen, shielding yourself to the best of your abilities, and only a second later you heard him screaming. Almost immediately you spotted him tumbling to the ground, the demobats descending upon him with ravenous hunger.

"HEY! LEAVE HIM ALONE!!” You shouted and charged forth, trying to get them away from him by any means necessary. You kicked them, strangled them, impaled them, before taking out a secretly-packed gun and shooting it in the air, killing one bat while the rest of the swarm dispersed for the moment.

All the while, Eddie noticed you and watched with awe and shock as you fought to save him, tearing a bat away from his chest before it could sink its teeth in.

Seeing you fight strengthened his resolve as he swung his shield to knock away another one. Soon he staggered to his feet and hit them with all his might, neither of you stopping.

The others must have incapacitated Vecna at some point, because eventually the bats stopped coming, and you were both surrounded by the corpses of many.

Dazed and exhausted, you sat on the ground together. You shed the metal plates that were now dented, scratched, and just barely hanging onto you, seeing no need for them anymore. Then you looked at each other, covered in cuts and bite marks.

“Hey.”

“Hey..” Eddie flashed you a slightly bloodstained smile before suddenly slumping into your arms.

“Woah--hey, hey..stay with me, Eddie.” You were quick to hold him and let him lay down in your lap. And you tore off a part of your sleeve that was already falling off to cover the bite wound on his neck, hoping he wasn’t losing too much blood. It didn’t look deep, but you weren’t taking any chances.

“It’s okay. It’s over. You’re gonna get through this.” Your voice was shaky, but you remained calm for his sake. You had to.

“Y-You came back for me...?”

“Of course I did.” Nodding, you smiled tearfully, relieved he was talking. “I couldn’t abandon you in this hellhole. But...why did you do that? We could’ve made it.”

“I didn’t wanna run away this time..” He choked out as a tear slipped down his cheek. You wiped it away, not minding the blood that stained your fingers. With a sniffle, he looked at you with large brown eyes, which seemed nearly pitch black. “I couldn’t run, [y/n]. N-Not again.”

“That’s what I figured. God, you’re the bravest motherfucker I’ve ever met, Eddie.” With a tired laugh you held him close, keeping pressure on the wound as you both waited for help to arrive.

It was gonna be okay.

He’ll make it. Both of you will.

#this was a perfect prompt ty #clanask #anonymous #stranger things x reader #st4 x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things spoilers #st4 spoilers #comfort prompt #hurt/comfort prompt

[strawberryya]

co-parenting

jiwon x reader

synopsis: You adopt a fish, but you do so with a stranger that you just met and will now co-parent said fish with. It goes pretty well, especially since your co-parent is gorgeous and hilarious...

word count: 3.8k

genre/contains: Fluff, sick pet, kissing, fated mates, hurt/comfort, everyone is gay, straight people don’t exist obviously, not technically a crackfic, just unapologetically unhinged, strangers to lovers but we move fast as fuck, reader is gn-neutral, probably a ton of incorrect fish facts, ft. roommate seoyeon.

a/n: So, this is the result of me trying to do that tiktok trend with the filters and you write something based on what you get from them. The "fated mates, hurt/comfort, everyone is gay, straight people don’t exist obviously, not technically a crackfic, just unapologetically unhinged." are the ones I got from that and they now exist here in some way I think so tadaa!

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

“Fuck it, I’m getting a fish!” you shouted, barging into the living room where your roommate, Seoyeon, was peacefully eating cereal for lunch. 

Putting down her spoon and phone she hesitated before asking, “May I ask why you have decided to get a fish, and also why it was necessary for me to know this information?” 

“Because I just spent an hour crying over these videos on youtube about people decorating huge tanks for tiny fish, and it was so adorable, and I’m a bit emotional today, so we’re getting a fish to fix it,” you said in one breath, making you breathe in and out very deeply once you finished. 

Seoyeon only nodded and went back to her phone and cereal, not bothering to question you any further. You were in sweats and an oversized t-shirt and decided not to concern yourself over your choice of attire as you put on the first shoes you could find before running out of the apartment, shouting “Bye! I’ll be back with my fish child soon!” while you flung the door shut behind you. 

Running around the city for a fish you just decided on adopting wasn’t what you wished to do this day, so it was a very pleasant surprise when you waltzed into a pet store after only a couple of minutes of walking from your apartment. 

You headed directly towards the big sign with FISH on it. 

It smelled like aquariums and fish food in the designated FISH area, but you weren’t in the mindset to notice the less-than-pleasant smells; too busy strutting along the isles of lit-up tanks to pick up the scent. 

You passed tanks of various sizes, filled with sand, water, plants, and of course fish. In some tanks, you even spotted some crabs and shrimps crawling around along the rocky bottoms of their tanks, and the seahorses had you stopping to look at them where they swam around for quite a while. 

There were hundreds of adorable little fishies, and you stopped in front of maybe a dozen or so tanks looking at the small creatures making their way through the water. But none of the ones you saw had you on your knees begging to take it home, that was until you reached the end of one of the rows, where a single fish resided, swimming slowly through the clear water in the tank. You were mesmerized the moment you saw him. 

“You’re the one!” you excitedly exclaimed as you stood there, bent over and pressing your face close to the glass of the tank while looking at your new son in complete awe. 

However. As you said that, it was as if you could hear the echo of your voice coming from the tank, but it wasn’t from the tank that the sound was coming from, and it wasn’t exactly your voice either. No, it was coming from behind the tank on the opposite end of it. 

You managed to force your eyes to look past your (in your mind) already adopted son, and look through the glass tank to the other end, meeting, not just an empty isle on the other side, but a face staring right back at you, the expression seemingly just as surprised as yours. It took you both a while to try and comprehend what was going on, both of your simply staring at each other through the tank, looking at each others’ distorted faces, your eyes going between each other, and the fish still calmly swimming in the water in between you. 

This person had said the same thing that you had, at the exact same time as you had, about the very same fish that you just had. What are the odds of that even happening? You blinked one last time before you pushed yourself up from the position you had been standing in and instead of staring at each other through the tank, you were now face-to-face with the prettiest girl you had ever seen. (this also made you instantly regret not putting a bit more effort into your outfit, but that regret would have to be postponed for a later time.)

“Hi,” you managed to cough up along with a small wave to the person standing across from you. 

“Hello,” she responded, waving her hand back in an absent-minded way, still staring at you with an unreadable expression. 

“You… like my fish?” you finally continued, not even aware enough to be mad at yourself for how stupid that sounded. 

She looked back at you, her expression turning into more of a questioning frown than the unreadable one she had had since you saw her through the tank. 

“Your fish? Did you already adopt him??” she said, sounding rather flabbergasted. 

“No, I mean, technically I haven’t, but I was just about to!” you tried to explain. 

She looked down at the fish, and you did the same, a couple of seconds passed while you both stood there, mesmerized once again by the adorableness of the creature swimming around in there. 

“I was about to do the same,” she said after a while, looking back up at you and meeting your eyes with a fiery passion you weren’t prepared for at all. 

Now you were the one who was flabbergasted. “I- uhm, I don’t know how we should…” you began. You weren’t sure what to say or do, to be honest; because what does one do when two people have decided that their fish is the same exact fish and that they both want to adopt that fish? However, you didn’t have to think too hard or long about what to do because the woman in front of you soon interrupted your thoughts. 

“What if we co-parented him?” she asked, her tone implying that her proposal was a very logical solution to your problem. 

You took a moment to process the proposal before nodding and agreeing to try. “Okay, but - how exactly does one co-parent an aquatic animal?” you questioned, hoping that she would have some experience or at least a plan on how to execute the idea. 

She did not, but, she very quickly came up with an ingenious plan: “What if one of us keeps him at our place, and then the other parent can just come over to care for him when it’s their turn? I’m thinking that would be easier than carrying the entire tank between our places every week. Also, that doesn’t seem very nice to our son either…”

“Yes, you’re right, we must consider the trauma that he would suffer through having his entire life moved around so often, especially since he will be living all alone instead of with his friends like he has been so far in his life,” you added, and you both nodded with serious faces before looking at the fish in the tank next to you. 

Your grim faces dissolved into adoring ones as soon as you laid eyes on him, “Yes, we must keep our son’s best in mind through it all,” she agreed. “Our son” already sounded natural in her mouth. You had to admit that your heart fluttered a bit, hearing her refer to you two as one unit like that, like a pair inseparable from one another. 

No, this was not the time to catch feelings for someone, a crush on your now co-parent would only complicate everything - not a good idea, you thought as you mentally slapped yourself. 

“I’m Jiwon by the way,” she said as you walked over to the front desk to request someone to help you get everything you needed. 

“I’m y/n and I’m looking forward to co-parenting with you Jiwon,” you responded, your smile growing wider as you continued walking. 

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

In the end, you had decided that your place would be best, you had a bit more space that could easily be cleared out to fit the tank, and Jiwon said she was okay with him staying at yours as long as she was free to come to visit often. The whole process of installing the tank, and then the water process, and on top of that trying to choose how to decorate your son's tank had been a full day commitment, or, a full seven-day commitment it had turned out. Not that you were complaining, quite the opposite actually, this was the most fun you had had in a while, and it was largely due to the fact that your new co-guardian was one of the funniest people ever. 

She had made you laugh over the silliest of things so many times you wouldn’t be able to count them even if you tried. Then there was the whole issue of how she turned out to have this weird superpower when it came to you. 

Whenever she looked at you, it was as if you could tell how her attention shifted. You felt all the attention in the world shifting over to focus solely on you, and every single time it made you so flustered you wanted to poof your way out of the situation before you did anything stupid; like telling her how much you love the way she looks at you, or how she makes you feel so special you get a teeny tiny bit of hybris each time she smiles at one of your stupid jokes, or the stupidest thing of all - kiss her. 

Anyways… now your son had his own brand new castle with a tower on the side since you both came to the conclusion that he would love to have that as a bedroom. (because who wouldn’t like his own tower to run back to when life gets too hectic?) And today was the day when he could finally come home to his new home in the corner of your bedroom. 

But, there was one thing that you had just now begun pondering: what do we call him? You had been throwing out names left and right for a while now, but everything just seemed so silly when you said them out loud. Marty, Bob, and Andrew had all been discussed and declined by both of you in the end. 

“What about Bartholomew Timothy the First, but we will just call him Timothy?” 

“It’s perfect! You’re a genius!!” you responded and smiled from ear to ear making Jiwon look away, her face flushing slightly. You noticed how she tried to hide it, but it was too late, your heart made a flip in your chest at her adorable awkwardness. 

A few moments passed where you both just stopped and gazed into each other’s eyes, both of you unable to look away or speak. 

“Weren’t you two supposed to pick up your fish?” a voice asked, snapping you both out of your little moment. 

“Weren’t you supposed to leave for your ice cream date with your girlfriend like 10 minutes ago??” you responded, a bit more sassy and defensive than you had planned. Fortunately, Seoyeon didn’t remark or seem to care about that too much, she just smiled a bit and waved her hand. 

“She said she would be late so I’m just waiting a bit so I don’t get there too early. You two, however, what’s your excuse? Trying out telepathy by staring at each other long enough?” she snickered a bit at herself as she watched you both fiddle with the edges of the couch you were sitting on in the living room. 

“We were just leaving, and yes, we are currently talking about how much we would love you if you would be so kind as to bring home some of that ice cream for us through our minds. Witchy right?” Jiwon said back, smiling at you as she began getting up, naturally making you follow her lead and get up from the soft cushions. 

“Good luck with your witchy communicating, and we’ll see about the ice cream,” Seoyeon said, smirking a bit when both you and Jiwon awkwardly headed out, both of you unsure of how to handle the tension that kept being constantly present in your relationship. 

You made it through the day though, and Bartholomew Timothy the First adjusted quickly to his new home. It took a while to figure out the routines surrounding your co-parenting, but after a bit, it seemed as if it had always been just like this. Jiwon came over every other day to occasionally feed but mainly just spend time with Timothy, (and in the end you), and on the weekends she came over for as long as possible, at times the entire day. You watched movies together (along with Timothy of course), showing each other your favorite movies and shows, listening to music together (still with Timothy of course), and sometimes you just talked for hours, getting to know each other (and letting Timothy get to know is new parent, of course). 

It was comfortable, but those moments, where you felt that pulsating intense feeling of having her focus all her attention on you had become increasingly difficult to handle. But for Timothys’ sake, you weren’t sure if it was a great idea to let feelings into your co-parenting relationship just like that. 

Nevertheless, this moment was not the time for thinking about things like that, you told yourself and pushed the feelings and the thoughts deep down as you scurried over to the front door, begging her in your mind not to ring the doorbell one more time. 

“Hi, come on, hurry and be quiet,” you hissed after you opened the door, letting Jiwon into the hallway before dragging her with you to your room by her hand. Once you had shut your door behind you, you let out a deep sigh and leaned back against the door. 

“Why are we whispering??” Jiwon whispered to you, pulling you out of your moment of letting go of the stress you had just experienced from not wanting to be too loud. 

You opened your eyes to answer her, but Jiwons big eyes staring at you, her face lit up by the dim lighting of the room, and the close proximity she was in since you were still holding her hand in yours distracted you before you could explain your behavior. 

“Woah,” you accidentally let out under your breath. 

Jiwon’s eyes became even bigger, her pupils growing as you let your thumb drag over her hand. “What?” she said in a hushed tone. 

“Uh, nothing, it was nothing really… we’re whispering because Seoyeon - date - shouldn’t disturb…” you tried, but she didn’t care about the reasons for your actions anymore, so she asked again about what she wanted you to actually tell her.

“Woah what?” she said, her tone still low and seductive, but she had managed to still copy the exact way you had said woah before. The teasing in a moment like this was too much for you to handle, and your face cracked up in a wide smile and you chuckled a short chuckle before collecting yourself. 

“Woah, you look so pretty right now, is what I was thinking,” you said with a teasing smirk on your face as you saw how Jiwon’s pupils grew even wider than before and her cheeks became tinted a shade of pink that was hard to define in the low light of the room. 

“...oh,” she murmured, her eyes landing on your grinning mouth. “You look… really pretty too,” Jiwon said under her breath. 

Ok, fuck pushing down the thoughts and the feelings, Timothy can handle it. You thought as you let the words on your mind fall off your tongue. 

“Jiwon, I like you,” you whispered with a trembling voice and her eyes shot up to yours with lightning speed. 

Now she was the one smirking. “I like you too…” 

Her words hit you like the heat when getting out of an airplane in Spain, and suddenly you felt very lightheaded, the lights of the room blurring a bit around the edges. Your breath was still caught in your throat and your heartbeat was going feral inside your chest. 

“You like me too…? Oh my god,” you said in a slightly more high-pitched voice than you meant to let out. She suppressed a laugh at your shocked state before saying, “Yeah, I like you too.” 

That was the last drop, you couldn’t not kiss her now when she’s standing pressed against you with eyes staring at you like you were a freaking jewel, telling you that she liked you back! So you leaned forward, her breath hot against your skin when you stopped, “Can I…” you began, but your words were interrupted when Jiwon murmured “Yes,” before leaning in the rest of the way and letting your lips fall onto hers. 

Her lips were so perfect, and it took you a while to pull off of each other and stop the makeout session that had been initiated by your confessions. And once you had left her warm and unimaginably soft lips, you wanted nothing more than to go right back to kissing her again. But the need to simply hold her, and look at her in your arms overpowered the need to kiss her, if only momentarily. 

“So,” you began, both of you giggling when you made eye contact and saw the others’ puffy lips, “are we… more than friends?” you asked, subduing the giggles while waiting for a response. 

“I mean, I would love to be your girlfriend, if you want that too…” she said, looking away for a moment before you could feel the shift in the air yet again. The attention feeling like fluffy clouds surrounding you, embedding you within it, and letting you float through the air as if you were literally flying. 

“I’d love that,” was all you could say before you let your lips meet hers again, sweet kisses combined with whispers, confessing just how much you’d love calling her your girlfriend, and countless tiny words confessing all the big feelings you were feeling for her and she was feeling for you, all of them spilling out at once and leaving you both in a sea of all that you wanted to say and all that you wanted to hear. 

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

“He’s sick!” you cried out, sobbing into her shoulder as soon as she stepped into your apartment, embracing you tightly as she asked, “How, what’s wrong with him?” The worry she felt filled her voice when she spoke. 

“I don’t know,” you whispered, “he’s not swimming around like usual, and he won’t eat, and he won’t come out of his castle!” 

Jiwon patted your head, hushing your sobs as her own eyes filled with tears of worry for both you and Timothy. 

Once you had calmed down a bit, showing her the signs of Timothy’s sickness, Jiwon pulled out her phone, searching for a couple of minutes before chuckling just a little bit and then looking up at you, her eyes shining with joy and relief. 

“What??” you practically screamed, wanting to understand why she was suddenly seemingly the opposite of worried for Timothy. 

“Babe, this says all those signs are just signs of him being pregnant…” she finally said, laughter hanging in the previously very tense air around you. 

“He’s… going to have babies? But, when…” 

“It’s possible that he hadn’t been alone in that tank before we showed up that day… and we only got him like a couple of weeks ago and this says they usually pregnant for a month or two, so he was probably already pregnant when we got him,” she explained, showing you the page and the signs that it was, in fact, a pregnancy and that he wasn’t dying.

“So… WE’RE GOING TO BE GRANDPARENTS!” you shouted, now exuberant from both the relief and the thought of your son becoming a parent of tiny little Timothys’. 

“Oh my god, you’re right!” Jiwon exclaimed, “We better get ready, let’s go and get a rocking chair, and we should learn how to make little knitted waterproof fish hats, and we absolutely need to learn the rules of chess so we can teach them when they get a bit older,” she began, now completely absorbed in the idea of becoming the absolute best grandma that she could possibly be for the little ones. 

You felt that extreme joy about Timothy quickly turn into something else, your heart became filled with pure love and adoration for your girlfriend, and then she looked at you, and you felt the air shift just like it had done so many times since you met her, and you couldn’t help yourself. 

“I love you,” you said under your breath.

But it was definitely loud enough for her to hear you loud and clear. 

“What…” she said, visibly still trying to process what you had just said. It had only been a couple of weeks since you had met, and it was definitely wayyy too soon to say that, but you felt it, and when she looked at you like that it was simply impossible to not let your feelings be known.

“I- I love you…” you repeated it, trying your hardest to keep eye contact with her even though your brain was screaming at you to run and hide, however, another part of your brain was screaming to stay and say it a hundred times more if she wanted to hear it, and that voice was so much louder than the other one, so you basically had no choice but to stay and wait. Fortunately, you didn’t have to wait too long, because once the fact of what you had just said had been processed, her face cracked up into a smile, “I love you too,” she said. It was simple, but it was everything that mattered in the entire world, she loves you, and you love her, and you giggled, pulling each other in and kissing her so deeply you were sure you would weld yourself to her lips someday and never let go. 

Once you pulled your lips away, still unable to take the smile off your lips, and her smile sticking to her own lips, you placed your forehead against hers, staring into one another's eyes.

“You know, I think we might have been fated to meet that day in the pet store,” Jiwon said, breaking the comfortable silence of you two just floating in the moment. However, you had decided that there had been too much sappiness for one day already at this point.

“Pfft, yeah, no, I mean sure, it could’ve been destiny, or just pure luck, orrrrr it was just unavoidable since I'm so hot. Guess we will never know for sure…” 

Your tone and statement made Jiwon chuckle before she grabbed your face again and pulled you towards her lips, “You’re right, you’re hot and it was definitely inevitable for us to fall in love,” she said once she pulled back making you both fall into a fit of giggles and laughter as you pushed her playfully before kissing her once again and then a hundred more times and hoped that you would be able to do just that for the rest of your life. 

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

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[otherworldseekers]

Something’s Gotta Give: Chapter 4 Scene 4

Going to go ahead and post the rest of chapter 4 because I am SO EXCITED to get to finally post the final version of chapter 5. It’s something I’ve been working on for years. 

Something’s Gotta Give Masterpost

Severia had found a shadowy corner in the Manderville lounge and retreated there with a book and a large flask of tea. Settling herself down on a well stuffed couch she took a quick look around. There were already a couple pairs of questioning eyes on her. Perhaps Nero was right. As much as she hated that thought, she took off her hat and slipped it underneath her seat. Then she resolutely stuck her nose into her volume on Allagan history, borrowed from Rammbroes, and ignored everything around her. 

It was some hours later when she was startled out of a doze by a worried looking Gold Saucer attendant. 

“Madam, my sincere apologies, but there is a matter which requires your urgent attention.”

Severia jumped up. “Oh gods, what has he done?”

“If madam would please follow me.”

The attendant took her through a well camouflaged door and along a warren of stairs and hallways. The decor was nearly as elegant as that in the public areas at first, but as they continued on it became more utilitarian and eventually they came to a passage that was simple cut stone with heavy wooden doors. Severia stared in surprise. The Gold Saucer had its own prison? And Nero had landed in it?

The attendant guided her to one of the doors where she found the Manager of the Saucer waiting to take over. He bowed and “Madamed” her and Severia was led into a cell-like room with a single table and two chairs. Nero sat facing the door with his elbows on the table. He wasn’t bound at least but there were two guards inside the cell with him, large Roegadyn with plain but serviceable armor. When Severia entered he looked up with a sheepish smile. 

“Ah, hero. You’ve come to my rescue.”

Severia folded her arms across her chest. “We’ll see about that. First I need to know what you’ve done.”

The Manager signaled to the guards to wait outside and closed the door behind them. “Please have a seat Madam. I would be happy to explain all if the gentleman does not wish to do so.”

Severia looked at Nero pointedly as she sat down across from him. He shrugged. 

“Very well, madam,” said the Manager. He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it several times and cleared his throat. “We have several counts of rule breaking against your companion. First, harassing the attendant of the Lord of Verminion games.”

“I did no such thing,” Nero scoffed. “I merely pointed out the glaring flaws in the way the game is run.”

“I see,” said Severia to the manager, ignoring Nero’s protests. “Please continue.”

“Second, making a nuisance of himself at the chocobo races.”

“Is ‘making a nuisance’ of oneself truly in your rulebook? Can you define it for me? Please, I would love to hear it,” Nero grumbled.

“To be more specific, attempting to extort the other spectators into placing bets with himself when at first they declined, shouting obscenities at the jockeys and protesting the results of the races when they went against him.”

Severia’s frown deepened. “I advise you not to interrupt him again, Scaeva.”

Nero gave an annoyed sigh and turned his attention to the blank wall.

“Thank you, madam. Third, refusing to leave the vehicle for the Air Force One event and thus preventing anyone else from being able to enjoy the event.”

Severia raised her eyebrows and caught Nero’s eyes with a questioning look. He merely shrugged again.

“Fourth, and finally, egregious cheating at the Triple Triad card game leading to a near riot in the Triple Triad lounge.”

This time she let out an audible groan. This was, in a way, all her fault. She had been fool enough to think Nero could act like a mature adult for an afternoon. “What does the Saucer usually do in cases like this?” she asked the Manager. 

“Madam, we have no case on record that quite equals this one. Normally in such a situation we would seek a decision from Sir Manderville, but this man claims to be your responsibility and in deference to your position…”

“Yes, I understand.”

“There is one final thing, Madam.” The Manager stepped toward Nero and deftly removed the headpiece he was wearing to hide his forehead. “Is Madam aware that her companion is a full blooded Garlean?”

For a moment Severia stopped breathing. Nero had the decency to look chagrined. There was nothing for it. “This man is traveling with me under conditions that require extreme secrecy, do you understand?”

The Manager shifted uncomfortably. “If Madam insists…”

 “I’m afraid I do. Can you leave me alone with him for a few minutes?”

“Certainly, Madam.” 

Maintaining a calm exterior came naturally to Severia. But the truth was that she was furious. Furious at him for acting like an child when she had asked him not to cause trouble. Furious at him for making himself her responsibility. Furious that sometimes he seemed like a decent human being and then turned around and did things like this. And most of all furious with herself for ever thinking there was anything even remotely attractive about the man. 

“Do you have anything to say to me, Scaeva?”

“My winnings, hero. Ask them what they did with my considerable winnings.”

“Your winnings, Scaeva? Are you serious? I brought you here, the most popular tourist destination in Eorzea, so you could entertain yourself without causing me trouble and you couldn’t even manage that. Is this payback? Because I destroyed your Praetorium? Is this…” Is this who you really are? She didn’t finish the thought out loud. Because then she might have to admit that she had begun to see him in a different light. That she had thought there was more to him. “Is this how you make your amends?”

Nero sighed in irritation. “This isn’t about you or any of that.”

“What is it about, Scaeva? Enlighten me.”

“It simply seemed amusing at the time.”

Severia let out a hollow laugh. “That’s it? You’re willing to risk revealing your identity, willing to risk my reputation and our reason for being here… because it seemed amusing at the time.”

Another shrug for answer. Severia stood suddenly and shoved the table across the room so that it no longer separated them. Even standing while he sat she could not look down at him, but she put all of her fury into her glare. 

“Beg,” she said. 

“Pardon?” Nero asked in surprise. 

“I want you on your knees begging for my help.”

Nero stared at her blankly. That was not what he had been anticipating. 

“On your knees, Scaeva,” Severia repeated coldly. “Unless you want to end up rotting in an Ul’dahn dungeon.”

It took only a moment for Nero to collect himself. “If that’s how you like it, hero.” He slowly lowered himself to the rough stone floor, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Help me, Warrior of Light. You’re my only hope.”

Severia put a sandaled foot on one of his shoulders and pushed him down until he was doubled over. “I didn’t hear a please.”

“Please, Severia.”

Nero’s cheek was pressed into the dust of the floor, but he still looked smug. Severia’s anger flared. Is he enjoying this? She ground his head down with her sole causing a satisfying grunt from her victim. Am… Am I enjoying this?

She pulled back her foot as if she’d been burned and turned away from him. “I’ll get you out of this because I really don’t have a choice at the moment. I can only hope that you’ve learned your lesson and won’t be such a bloody pain in my ass going forward.”

“Oh, I think I’ve learned something.” Nero stood up gingerly and brushed himself off. 

Severia ignored him and knocked on the cell door. When the Manager entered she told him, “I’m taking custody of this man. I assure you on my honor that he won’t cause trouble here again. Godbert will have to be satisfied with that.”

The Manager looked doubtful but acquiesced. “Yes, Madam. Allow me to escort Madam and Sir to the airship landing.” 

A not so subtle invitation to get the hells out of here. Severia couldn’t have been more eager to comply. They followed the Manager back through the warren and out into the Aetheryte plaza. They had almost made it to the entrance when a familiar voice boomed through the square. 

“Severia Zetsuen! My beloved son’s trusty companion!”

Severia turned in horror to see Godbert Manderville barrelling toward them. Whether intentionally or not, the large man knocked Nero onto his backside and came to a stop in front of Severia. At least he was wearing a shirt. 

“What an unexpected delight to find you in my establishment. Does this mean you’ve heard about our little get together this evening?”

“G- get together?” she stammered. 

“Just a small gathering of some of the most prominent and rich members of Ul’dahn society coming together to raise money to aid the widows, widowers and orphans left behind by the Garlean invasion.”

“Oh,” said Severia awkwardly. “I hadn’t heard. Um, unfortunately I’m in Thanalan on business-”

“But I’m sure you can spare a few hours of your time for such a worthy cause,” Godbert declared, clapping her firmly on the back. 

“Er…”

Godbert extended a hand to Nero and pulled him up so fast that Nero’s headpiece slipped to the side. “You are Mistress Zetsuen’s date?”

“Colleague,” Nero corrected, as he quickly adjusted his disguise. 

“I have every confidence that the Warrior of Light and her… colleague would not wish to cause trouble of any sort. This is a crucial time of healing for the Eorzean people with the threat of Garlemald in check. Your presence at tonight’s little party would be an enormous boon to all involved. Especially the victims.” 

Severia felt his eyes boring into her from behind his glasses. Did he already know about Nero? The trouble he had caused as well as his identity? Was he essentially blackmailing her into attending his fundraiser? Could she really afford to say no? 

Nero was curiously silent, waiting for Severia to figure her way out of this situation.

“I, um… don’t have anything but these old traveling clothes to wear, unfortunately.”

“Not a problem! The Saucer can provide evening wear for you and your colleague.”

“But…”

“Severia Zetsuen, Warrior of Light, plus one.” Godbert stated with the tone of a man proclaiming law. He turned to the Manager that had been hovering around them in a state of near panic. “Get these two young people set up with bathing facilities and a choice of costume for the event tonight. Spare no effort.”

“Yes, Sir,” said the Manager, snapping to attention. 

“I will see you in a few bells, Warrior of Light,” said Godbert. He lowered his voice so only she and Nero could hear. “I advise you not to try escaping. Julyan has a new frying pan she has been just dying to break in.”

#Something's Gotta Give #Severia x Nero #WoL/Nero #Severia Zetsuen #Nero tol Scaeva #my writing #FFXIV fanfic #All My Tomorrows