with you I fall (down) | Whumpay 2021
Summary: Cal knew that the Nightsisters used the Dark Side of the Force, but not until that power is used to heal him after a skirmish with the Haxion Brood did he realize how deep that connection was. [6/11]
AO3 Link | Whumpay Index | Chapter 1, Chapter 5
Merrin’s grip on his waist tightened. “Was it something good?”
“I don’t know.” He admitted. The forest around them felt different than it had before, when he had first made his way to Kashyyyk, from only a few hours ago. The Force of the planet was still there, but instead of dragging his feet down with each step, sending a deep shock through his body, it pushed him up, whispered something to him that he could not yet make out. But he could confide in Merrin. “I had a vision. And everything feels different now.”
“But you’re not sure whether or not it is a good different.”
“Exactly.” He hadn’t known Trilla, not like Cere had, but he had the feeling that she knew him. And that thought scared him.
They fell silent as they continued to walk through the darkening trees, following behind the small light of the GPS Cere carried in her hands. Cal’s hands instinctively tightened on the hilt of his lightsaber as a group of Tach scrambled through the trees around them.
“You know, Cal,” Greez called back. “You paint a much grimmer version of Kashyyyk than I’ve encountered.”
“That’s because we have a Nightsister with us.” Cere said glancing back at them. “I’ve heard the stories, but I must admit, I never put much stake in them before.”
“Neither have I, to tell the truth.” Merrin turned her head to look at the forest around them. “I can feel the creatures out there, but you are right, none have been so bold as to attack.”
“Yet.” Cal chirped.
“Don’t say that.” Greez begged, stopping to look back at Cal and Merrin.
“Come on, Greez. You’ve got us.” Cal reached down to pat him on the shoulder. “And that’s more than most beings here have.”
Merrin lay awake that night, listening to the sounds of Cere tinkering with the comm unit from the Mantis at the edge of the root structure they had found to shelter under once more. When she finally decided that sleep would not find her for a while, she gently untangled Cal’s head and limbs from her own and picked her way over to sit beside Cere. “Any luck?”
“Not yet. We should be in range of the rebel encampment now, if I could just get this working.”
“Thank you, Merrin.” Cere paused to smile up at her before returning her attention to the tangle of wires before them. “Hey, hold this for me?”
“Sure.” Merrin took the small wrench, keeping it in place as Cere reattached wires to their ports until she got a nod to let go.
Cere slammed the back of the comm unit on before picking up the speaker attached to it. “This is Cere Junda of the Stinger Mantis, looking for the partisans. Over.” She paused as they waited for a response. Finally, she raised the comm once more. “I repeat, this is Cere Junda of the Stinger Mantis, we are friends of the partisans. Over.”
Merrin’s eyes widened as a panicked voice came over the comm. “This is Saw’s partisans. We need your help, please!”
“We are too far out.” Cere responded.
“Please, please. They’re here!”
“Who’s there?” Cere glanced over at Merrin when there was not an immediate response. “Partisans, can you hear me? Who’s there?”
Merrin buried her head in his arms as they waited for any response, receiving nothing.
“Damn.” Cere hissed, bringing a hand up to her face as she sighed.
“Do you think it was the Haxion Brood?”
“Or the Empire. Either way, they’re gone.” Cere glanced back at Greez and Cal as they slept. “Should we tell them?”
“It can wait until morning.” Merrin reached out to rest a hand on Cere’s shoulder. “Rest, I’ll take first watch.”
“Thank you, Merrin.”
Merrin watched Cere retreat back into the roots before turning back to face the dark forest and the creatures within. She would not let any of them near her family tonight.
Birdcage:: set circa 1998
“Yeah, no kidding.”
Dean stalked down the stairway carefully, taking lengthy efforts not to make a creaking noise on the arid wood stairs. The basement he entered was pitch dark and already stunk of death. The only light was the light from the doorway above him, which soon slammed shut with a vengeance. Have to deal with that later, he thought bitterly.
He felt around the walls for some kind of switch or lever to initiate light.
When he found a large lever he pressed it up with a clang, preparing for bright lights to surround him, but the control only yielded a small light in thte middle of the room.
A scrambling happened and huge chains squeaked as the biggest bird cage Dean had ever seen swung suspended by the chains. The figure inside retreated to the furthest part of the circular cage away from Dean as it could, throwing the cage off balance even more.
“Dean?” Sam said quietly with an urgent whisper.
“Thank God,” Sam sunk to his knees and crawled to the bars closer to his brother.
“What the hell?” Dean neared the swinging cage and dodged it. He grabbed on and skidded with it to stop at the bottom of its pendulum swing. The bottom of it was still four feet off the ground. The platform of the bottom of the cage was probably about eight feet in diameter. The height was about twelve feet. The bottom was a sheet of thick, solid metal, and the bars that extended vertical were fused into the platform. The bars were thicker than Dean’s forearm and made of the same metal as the base. They came to an arch at the top of the cage where a single light hung down a foot or so. There was no doubt: it was basically a birdcage. One difference: there didn’t seem to be a door.
“I don’t know man. I woke up in here.” Sam’s face came more into the light and Dean almost flinched back. “What?” Sam asked.
“Um...” Dean didn’t know where to start. Sam had a dark bruise the shape of the tread indentions of a large boot across his face. His nose was crooked— obviously broken— and one eye was bloodshot and watering. “Nothin’.”
“Come on. I know its bad.”
“Yeah.” Dean’s stomach turned with disgusted guilt. “Yeah. Don’t worry we’ll getcha fixed up. How long you been awake?”
“I dunno. How long have I been here?”
“A few days.” That was not quite true. It had been a week. But Dean didn’t know what answer Sam needed.
“Oh. I have no idea then. They’ve come in like three times.” Sam said.
“‘The people-things’. That’s really specific, Sam.” Dean rolled his eyes.
“They aren’t people, they aren’t monsters, they look like people, they weld things with their hands. Seemed like a good conjecture— people-things.” Sam defended. He winced and touched his eye as blood dripped from above it.
“What do they come in for?” Dean asked, sticking his hand through the space between two of the bars and thumbing some of the crusty tear-blood mixture off of Sam’s cheek.
“They come and take blood and leave food.”
“Your blood?” Dean asked, preoccupied with cleaning the cut under Sam’s eyebrow.
“Ya see anyone else in here?” Sam asked as he jerked away from Dean’s rough hand unsuccessfully. Dean sighed with a shake of his head. Sam’s hands clinging around the jail bars were wrecked. His fingers were purple and red and yellow with bruising, and needle pinpoint marks shone on the back of his hands.
“How much blood? God, Sam, they musta stuck you twenty times.”
“I know. I don’t know how much, but I passed out the second time and almost did the first.” He looked at his own hand with little interest.
“Where do they come from? From up there?” Dean jerked his head to the door up the stairs he arrived from.
“No. No, there’s another door over there.” Sam looked into the far corner of the space. there was not enough light to see much, and what light there was was divided and ribbed by shadows from the cage’s bars.
“How’d you get in this thing?”
“I was passed out.” Sam gestured to his bloodstained face. “But when they come they hold the bars in their hands and they glow, like hot metal, and they bend them so they can reach in. Then they meld it back into place and add more metal. Then they weld that with their hands. I guess it replaces the strength. They don’t talk to me.”
Dean handed Sam a long knife through the space in the bars. “I’m gonna check it out.” He gestured toward the corner with the alleged door.
Sam nodded. He slid the knife up his shirt sleeve, carefully hidden in case of emergency. A noise whirred on the other side of the wall Dean was headed towards suddenly.
Sam’s eyes widened and he motioned to Dean to leave the way he came. Dean gave him a ‘no way!’ look even through the darkness. Sam glared and set his jaw. Dean retreated into the darkest corner of the room and crouched. Sam had to give it to him, he was pretty invisible.
He stood up shakily and the cage swung wildly. He almost lost his balance, but grabbed onto the pole-like bars to steady. He looked incredibly nauseous as he gained his sealegs.
Shadows danced around the room and a new light came from the doorway. Two figures in white Haz-mat suits entered the room with a small cart, on which were several large empty vials and test tubes. The humanesque figures approached the bird cage without a word or emotion.
One of the figures raised a hand to a bar and it started to glow. Sam stayed put with a glare of death towards the perpetrators. Dean steadied his gun to aim at the white-clad thing, but a small gesture from Sam made him think better of taking the shot.
The bar heated and bent, then a section of it melted away. The same procedure was followed for two other bars. It wasn’t quite enough space for an escape yet— but it was something.
Dean emerged from the shadow and shot one of the suited monsters dead.
The other whirled on him and extended its hand. Unexpectedly, Dean flew forward in an unnatural force. The monster caught him by the wrist and its glowing hand burned through his shirt to his skin. He grit his teeth as his wrist seared.
“Dean!” Sam said, a yell halfway between an admonishment an dan exclamation.
Dean hadn’t thought to ask Sam how they got him to willingly let them take his blood. Now he knew.
The monster hit his chest and he flew back against the wall. His head hit and his eyelids suddenly heavied. He slid down to the ground and crumpled there.
Sam leapt toward the hole and grabbed the monster from behind. He pulled it with a headlock and slammed its head down on the sharp point of one of the semi-melted bars. The bar impaled the creature’s neck and it fell limp.
Sam was breathing hard as he backed up. The cage swung wildly and he tripped, whacking his head on the floor.
When he came to, the hole in the cage was still there, but he was chained to one of the perfectly healthy bars. Metal restraints clasped around his upper arms, in between his shoulders and his elbows. His neck popped when he awoke and stirred, looking up from his position of his head laying limp on his own shoulder. His vision was blurry for an unreasonably long amount of time.
“Coulda told me about the telekinesis, stupid.” Sam heard Dean say from across the room.
He could see most of Dean through the bars, but his face was obscured by one of the cage’s thick ribs. He was tied up leaning against the wall, sitting on his heels, forced into a prayer kneel by the restraints.
“Yeah,” Sam said guiltily. He closed his already mostly swollen shut left eye and his vision cleared exponentially. One eyed was better than fuzzy, he supposed.
The door in the corner opened slowly with a creak and a tall figure stepped out. “You’ve taken my helpful metal-melders from me.” A voice said. “It seems I will have to continue the old fashioned way. Free range inside a cage seemed more humane... more conscientious, but restrained works too. In fact it works even better for me.” The figure stepped into the light with a cruel smile. They were mostly human. Well dressed human, even. The only thing a little off was the paleness of their face and the reddish color of their irises. Sam could barely see him, twisting his head as far as he could to watch.
“Humane?” Dean spit.
“You don’t agree eight feet of wandering ground is better than none?” The melodious male voice asked. Dean didn’t answer.
“I suppose you never got the good treatment though, boy.” The man-monster-thing stepped forward. He looked like the old drawings of Dracula in classic books. “Soon enough you won’t miss it either.” The creature adressed Sam. Sam didn’t want to know what that meant.
“Let him go,” Dean snarled.
“Let him go?” The creature almost laughed. “You aren’t bargaining for your own life first?” The creature suddenly sniffed in a large inhale of air, like he was trying to smell what wine was being served with dinner. Dean pulled back from him, weirded out a bit. “Oh, I see.” The creature chuckled in ecstacy. “You carry the same blood. You’re family, yes?”
Dean just glared at the man.
“Well that just makes everything so much smoother. Much faster.” The creature seemed delighted. It pulled a handkerchief out of its waistcoat pocket, approaching Dean and kneeling before him. Dean snatched with his teeth at the monster’s hands, but to no avail. The monster tied the gag tight around his head, its cloth bit settling between his jaws.
“Sit tight,” the monster said. “I’ll be back shortly.” He stalked from the room, dress shoes clacking upon the stone floor.
“Dean?” Sam asked, his brother’s face still obscured by the bar. “Dean what happened?”
Dean mumbled through the gag in response. He was seething with rage and helplessness. His arms were chained to his sides and his weapons were unreachable. The lock on the chains was nowhere to be found by wiggling around. The tight cloth around his face started to make his eyes and mouth water. He leaned his head back and hit it on the stone wall in frustration. Sam moved as much as he could with his tight restraints binding him to the ‘wall’ of the birdcage, trying to swing the cage so he could see Dean’s face. Eventually the cage spun just enough.
“Dammit,” Sam said.
The well dressed moster came back with supplies on a little tea cart. He took a bowl and a towel from the cart and stalked towards Dean.
“Hey, back off!” Sam yelled.
The evil beanstalk of a man didn’t even turn to Sam as he said, “Don’t fret. You’ll be even with him soon. More or less.” He placed the large bowl next to Dean’s right side and the towel underneath it.
Dean struggled as far from the man as he could, grunting and straining against the gag and the chains.
The man moved Dean’s right arm out from the mummy-ing chains but without any hesitation he pulled a knife from inside his blazer and slit one deep slash line tracing down the underside/inside of Dean’s arm. Dean let out an involuntary yelp, made higher by the restraint in his mouth.
The monster went on to place both hands on the shoulder of that same arm and do a quick maneuver that yielded a horrifying “pop” noise, and a scream from Dean.
“Stop!” Sam screamed. He kicked his legs from his seated position on the platform bottom of the cage, trying to turn it for a better view. The monster was blocking him from seeing what happened, but he would know the sound of a shoulder coming out of socket anywhere. Another ghastly “clack” noise sounded that Sam couldn’t place or understand. Dean let out one unintended sob, so Sam knew whatever the click was, it was bad news. “Stop it!” He yelled again as the pit of his stomach dropped.
The monster stood and turned to Sam, blood covering his hands. Sam looked around him to Dean, whose arm was slowly pouring blood into the waiting bowl.
The monstrous creature stalked around the cage to a point where Sam could no longer see him. He felt vulnerable and suddenly his back felt very exposed. He watched Dean through the bars as he tried to move and struggle against the chains, in more pain the more his shoulder moved. Almost a long minute later his eyes widened and he tried to yell a muffled warning to Sam.
Sam felt a sharp pain in his hand. A needle twice as big as the others was jammed into his vein with vigor. He grit his teeth as he tried to keep the volume of his pained yell down. Another needle jammed into his other hand and his breath hitched.
Dean’s muffled yells of things like “STOP!” and insults and threats that could barely be made out through the gag caught Sam’s incredibly divided attention. This is what it meant when he said it would be faster this way. Sam thought.
“Dean, stop it! You’ll bleed faster!”
Dean didn’t stop struggling, but he was becoming really tired, really fast.
The monster spun the cage around some so that Dean was lined up in the melded window of no bars in the cage and Sam could see him dying more clearly. The downside: Dean could see Sam more clearly, too.
There were too many tubes coming out of Sam to be anything but horrendously painful. Even through his watery, unfocused eyes Dean could see as the monstrous creature stuck needles into Sam’s neck. Draining him.
“Dean, stop it! It’ll kill you faster if you keep moving around! Listen to me.”
Dean stopped for a second. The anger blurring his vision died down as he shifted his focus to Sam’s completely calm face. Bruised and broken, sure, but calm nonetheless.
“You have to stop.” Sam said quietly. A laugh boiled up from the monster behind him but he ignored it. “Stay calm. Just stay still.” Sam got an idea suddenly. It only worked in a very specific scenario, but he didn’t have many other options at the moment. “It’s pretty fowl in here, right?” Sam tried not to emphasize the code word too much in fear of discovery, but hoping Dean would still get it.
Fowl? Why does he want me to— Dean thought through the code, but Sam said something else which made it clearer.
“We’re gonna be fine...” Sam sounded suddenly delirious and weak. His head lulled down and his limbs fell even more slack in their restraints. It was almost too convincing.
Fowl was the code word for ‘play dead’, although they had never used it for the one saying it to be the one playing dead. Dean understood his role now. He knit his eyebrows and got the monster’s attention with a mournful yelp and a few fake, but convincing, sobs.
The monster grinned. “You listened to him too well I suppose. The way I planned, you would have been dead long before you saw the child go.”
Dean glared at him with a seething rage. Even if Sam wasn’t really dead, he was definitely being drained and hurt. Dean hung his head and tried to get the tears to fall out of his eyes onto the floor dramatically. He pretended to sob, hoping this was Sam’s plan.
“He’ll be easier to drain out here with us, don’t you think?” The monster fell for their trick brilliantly. “Right here?” The creature tapped the ground in front of Dean’s eyeline.
The monster proceeded towards the cage where Sam lay entirely motionless.
“Don’t touch him!” Dean yelled through the gag, the words barely recognizable, but definitely frantic-sounding, trying to sell it.
The monster grinned sadistically. It unclasped the cuffs around Sam’s upper arms one by one. Sam slumped to the side with the first metallic click, then to the front over his criss crossed legs with the next. His swollen, bruised eye hit his knee when he fell forward and Dean winced for him. Sam was selling it so hard that Dean started to worry for if it wasn’t real.
The monster swung the cage as if he was trying to get all the marbles to roll to one side of a tray after spinning them around a few times. Sam tumbled toward the hole like a bag of bones.
The monster pulled him out as he remained tension-less and motionless. Dean watched carefully, trying to act devastated and like he wasn’t calculating a plan in his head. His thoughts swam in bloodloss. His dislocated shoulder numbed his whole right arm... or was that the lack of life in his limb? But he determined to remain conscious nonetheless. For Sammy.
The tall monster dropped Sam in front of Dean unceremoniously. His limbs folded under him and his head hit with a whack. Sam’s face landed cheek to the ground, turned toward Dean, his expression hidden from the standing monster. As Dean watched, Sam’s face scrunched up in pain. Dean’s heart seemed to un-scrunch with relief, but he didn’t show it. He didn’t change his expression as he lifted his gaze to the insanely pleased creature.
“How’s that?” The monster asked rudely.
Dean snorted a growl in response.
The monster grabbed Dean by the jaw and made him look at Sam.
Dean watched happily as he saw Sam’s hand slide a knife out of his sleeve with bloody fingers. He took his chance while the monster’s hand was still holding onto Dean’s face.
Sam sprung into action, slicing the creature’s hand clean off with his daggar. The monster wailed and stepped back several staggers. Sam rolled to his feet and grabbed Dean’s silver loaded gun from the pile in the corner. He shot the creature in the chest once and once in the stomach before leaping at the downed villain with its recently severed hand in tow. Dean couldn’t see exactly what happened, but the monster stopped struggling after a gagging noise ocurred. Sam shot it once more in the heart for good measure, then his heavy breathing took him over. He bent, doubled over and fell to one knee. After a few seconds he limped over to his brother.
He cut the gag off with the bloody daggar carefully and quickly threw it down. He was still panting.
“Scared me for a second there, man.” Dean rasped.
Sam nodded. “Good actor I guess.” He put a cold hand on Dean’s destroyed shoulder and Dean flinched.
“Nasty,” Sam commented.
“Coming from the guy who just killed something using its own severed hand.” Dean said weakly.
Sam’s gaze hardened as he re-noticed the full bowl of blood at Dean’s fingertips. It was full. And it wasn’t a small bowl. He helped his brother up from the ground, pulling with his handhold in the wrapped chains around him. He loosened them in several places and found a lock eventually. Picking it was no problem. Once the ‘weak link’ was dealt with they fell to the ground in a rattling ruckus. Dean breathed freely as he thanked Sam.
Sam took what was left of his shredded shirt off and tied it around Dean’s arm tightly as a tourniquet. At full height, Sam was only a couple inches shy of his brother, when three months ago he’d been almost half a foot shorter. It made things like helping each other limp away from these sorts of situations much easier.
“So, we have a ride?” Sam asked as they stepped over the threshold at the top of the frustrating set of stairs.
“Dude, do you even have to ask?” Dean chuckled. Now that they were in the light of the mansion’s domed window, everyone looked much worse. The curtain was pulled back on the palor and wounds that were previously hidden by the darkness.
Dean was over halfway to bleeding out. The bowl back in the basement had been almost a litre full, and two litres was just about the limit for remaining alive. The tourniquet had helped, but blood still dripped from Dean’s fingertips leaving a trail in the not-yet-open mansion. Someone would have an interesting find when they came in for the day.
The Impala seemed like the homeyest, most cozy thing after the dark dungeon storage basement.
A collective sigh of relief came out as they backed out of the driveway, Sam driving... Legally, for once.
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nope nvm i’m angry again <3
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Impatience & Hunger Chapter 2: Resolve to End Suffering is up!
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8 or 42 for the kiss prompt? Or 22 bc y’know. Catboy. Go with whichever inspires you more uwu
8: Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand
42: Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead
22: A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party.
(Ask game here!!)
Shen Wei was sitting at Yunlan’s desk, peacefully doing work, when Yunlan returned from the crime scene. It was not much of a crime scene–a simple magical mugging–and Yunlan had decided to leave it to his subordinates. He was not in the mood to focus on work. It was one of those days when his brain was bouncing in five different directions, and he had been completely unable to engage with any of the tasks he needed to. Part of him hoped that Shen Wei would have a steadying effect on him, but he was sure that would not happen.
“Shen Wei,” he said in a sing-song voice, traipsing around the desk and draping himself over the back of the chair. “How is my favorite leader of the Underworld?” He pressed a kiss to the edge of his husband’s cheekbone.
“I am fine,” Shen Wei said, turning a page of the report he was reading. “How are you? How was the crime scene?”
“Boring,” Yunlan sighed. “I hate having to stand still and listen to people. Especially when I’m…” He flapped his hands to emphasize his emotions.
“Did you bring those fidgets I found for you?”
“Yes, but I can’t exactly use them when I’m talking to officials.” Yunlan nuzzled himself into the curve of Shen Wei’s neck and kissed him there. His hope was that if he kissed Shen Wei enough, his husband would pay attention to him and not the work in front of him.
“I’ll find you some that are more inconspicuous.” Shen Wei reached a hand up to cradle the side of Yunlan’s face. Yunlan kissed his way up to the place where Shen Wei’s neck met his jaw, and Shen Wei turned another page.
“Shen Wei,” Yunlan grumbled, breathing the words into his skin. “What is so important about reports?”
“I’m almost done.” Shen Wei said, sinking his fingers into Yunlan’s hair. Yunlan sighed and kissed Shen Wei’s neck again. Finally, Shen Wei came to the end of the page and flipped the report closed. He turned his head up to kiss Yunlan on the lips. Yunlan traced his fingers down to the button at Shen Wei’s collarbone and contemplated undoing it. Everyone was out on mission; there was nothing stopping him from sticking his hands down his husband’s shirt. It was hard to remember to undo the button while Shen Wei was still kissing him, but Yunlan had practice. They moved so that they were facing each other again, and Yunlan did his very best to fit onto Shen Wei’s lap despite the restrictions of his unyielding office chair. One of Shen Wei’s hands found its way down to Yunlan’s ass, and Yunlan began working on the next button.
“Lao Zhao! We’re back!” Yunlan and Shen Wei leapt apart as Da Qing came marching into the office. “We found...am I interrupting something?” Internally, Yunlan thought that it was ridiculous that he felt embarrassed at his friend walking in on him and Shen Wei. Da Qing had seen worse in their five years of being a couple, hadn’t he?
“Don’t you know how to knock, Fatty?” he retorted, scowling. Shen Wei was frantically buttoning up his shirt.
“I don’t expect you to be fucking in your office!” Da Qing pointed out, wrinkling his nose. Yunlan didn’t have an argument for that. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.” He waltzed through the door.
"What a little shit,” Yunlan said, rolling his eyes. “I guess this means I should actually let you do work.”
“You can help me,” Shen Wei said. Yunlan went over to him and combed his hair back into place.
“I’ll try and focus, I guess,” he said, smiling. Shen Wei took one of his hands and pulled it down so he could give the knuckles a kiss, and Yunlan’s smile grew into a grin. He wandered away to find a report to attempt to read.
Seriously though, who sees a green dog the size of an elephant phase through a wall and goes "Hmm, I should fire my security guy"?
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I want to do something special for the upcoming 40th anniversary of Cats... anybody in the fandom have any ideas?
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oh my god ok last one i swear
i checked the senchrome tag on ao3 again and oh my fucking god there's another sengenchrome fic now???????? i am literally about to ascend
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interact if y’all wanna be added to my tag list for my fics and such :)💕
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Mother’s Day || ficlet
Characters: Kaaras Adaar, Aith Adaar, Aban Adaar
Timeline: Sometime during Inquisition
Warning: Contains profanity
Making her way through the door of the farmhouse, Aith closed it behind her. “Mum, you got a letter,” she informed. She always picked up the ravens from Kaaras. Not a lot of people knew his sister was elven, so trying to follow her for a letter wasn’t something they really had to worry about. It kept their mother safe as well. While the woman was definitely a stern one, she wasn’t a fighter. With Kaaras’ position posing a potential threat on their lives, this was just the easiest and safest way to get mail to his family.
The elven girl flipped it over to see the seal upon the envelope. Inquisition insignia. “It’s from Kaaras.”
Aban had been fighting a losing battle with the mabari hound that wanted to play something called ‘fetch’ with her. Even with her many years down in Ferelden, there were still some things that eluded the woman. A dog fetching a stick? She supposed it was good enrichment, but she didn’t quite understand how it was meant to be fun. He could be put to work in better ways.
Why Kaaras thought giving her a mabari hound was a good idea, she’d never know. What she did understand, though, was how caring her son was—and protective. He’d gotten that from both of his parents. If Anaan was alive to see him today… Maker, he would be proud.
She cursed to herself in Qunlat before Aith was in the doorway to her bedroom. The girl snorted and Aban’s expression flattened.
“You throw the stick outside, mum,” Aith said as she rolled her eyes. She patted her legs and Maxwell was up and across the room, the large dog barking happily before he leant up and sniffed the letter in her hand. Of course he could smell Kaaras on it. Probably all that perfume the man drowned himself in. He was such a girly man sometimes, which amused her since she would rather be found wearing mens clothes than anything remotely feminine.
“Yeah, it’s definitely from Kaaras.” The dog whined but she grabbed his collar and told him to sit with a stern command and a loud voice. Maxwell did so without hesitation. See, all he needed was a bit of confidence. Aban clearly hadn’t grown up around mabari.
“Here.” Aith made a few last steps to hand the older woman the letter, and Aban took it.
Even seeing the pretty, flowing handwriting on it was enough to cause Aban’s heart to ache for her son. She hadn’t seen him in what felt like years. Even before he had been named Thedas’ Inquisitor, he had not made it back home for some time.
Her fingers traced the ink before she turned the letter to see the seal, gently tugging at it. She hoped that it wasn’t any bad news, but with his work… she dreaded every day that she’d have a knock on her door—or a letter posted to her—with someone saying Kaaras had died. If she lost him… she didn’t know what she’d do. Losing Anaan had been enough. She couldn’t lose another.
Her whole life down here was because of her love for her son. She’d moved countries, crossed the ocean, and worked in poverty so she could try and put some dinner on the table, to make him grow.
Kaaras was not perfect, and she blamed herself for every one of those imperfections, especially when it came to his health and well-being. But even with his imperfections, she couldn’t be prouder. She had a hard working, selfless son who had turned into an even better man as he grew. How many mothers got to say that their son was the Inquisitor? Just the thought made her chest swell with pride, and yet, that worry always lingered in the back of her mind, like a snake in the grass, ready to strike.
Pulling the letter from the envelope, Aban unfolded it, being met with the familiar writing of her son:
I’m writing this a few days ahead of Mother’s Day in hopes that it reaches you in time. I wanted to apologise for not writing as much as I should have. I know I’ve been busy, but even saving the world isn’t an excuse to not have written more.
Words can’t even begin to say how much I miss you and Aith, and home. There’s not a day I don’t think about you two, and dad, of course. I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long, I just wanted to be able to give back something for all you’ve given me.
I know that we may not have come from much, but I’ve always admired and appreciated just how much you worked to provide for us. Adding another to the family made it hard, but you never thought once about that. All you ever thought about was putting a roof over our heads and putting a hot meal in our stomachs.
I want to be able to give that back to you, to provide for you so that you are taken care of as well as you took care of us. It means I can’t always be home, and I will be away for long periods of time, but if that’s what it takes, then every minute is worth knowing that you are well taken care of.
Aban felt the hot tears stinging her eyes, and she put a hand to her mouth to try and cover her crying, a stray tear falling down her cheek and onto the finely crafted parchment. She couldn’t even provide paper for Kaaras when he was little, and now he was writing on something as crisp and clean as the parchment in her very hands.
When Maxwell whined, Aith crouched down to take a hold of him, giving him a pat down the neck. She hated to see her mother cry like that. Even for someone like Aith, who came off crass and cruel, seeing Aban cry tears just hearing back from her son made her own heart ache.
Wiping her eyes, Aban continued to read.
I don’t say it enough, but I want you to know just how much I love and appreciate all you have done for me and my little sister. You have always encouraged us to be the best we can be. You had sleepless nights while taking care of us when we woke from nightmares, and not once did you give up on us, especially me when I turned you away. I have you to thank for such patience in myself, for such strength when I need it. You have been the rocks to the foundation of this family, and I want you to know that anyone would be lucky to have you as their mother.
I hope to see you soon. Take care of yourself.
Lots of love,
Lowering the letter, Aban sniffled, unable to stop the tears from running down her cheeks. Her vision blurred, tears latching onto her lashes as she pressed the letter to her chest. She could smell the colognes against the parchment, the smell of Kaaras, as if he were standing right there beside him. But he wasn’t. Just this piece of paper was all she had of him, aside from the belongings that remained in the loft upstairs.
“You’re going to smudge to letters if you keep crying.”
Aban’s ears flicked back. That was not Aith’s voice. She turned, eyes opening wide when she saw who stood, leaning against the threshold of the door.
Kaaras leant up and embraced his mother when she came hurtling towards him. She was still taller than him by a few inches, but that just allowed for the best hugs. Nothing was as good, warm and loving as a mother’s embrace.
Wrapping his arms around her, he felt her squeeze him tight, her sobs now breaking through her body.
“You two…” she muttered, pulling out of his arms as he chuckled. “The both of you.” That sweet smile. Maker, how she had missed his smile, the brightness in his eyes. Just like his father. That lovely, childish gleam so bright when he was happy.
“Making your mother cry like that.” She swatted him with the letter, Maxwell finally being let go and the mabari barking and jumping happily up at Kaaras.
Kaaras just chuckled. “I did say I hoped to see you soon.”
They’d played her, and terribly so. She thought that she’d not see him again for months to come, or even hear from him via letter. But here he was, in person, and he looked so good and healthy. Aith hadn’t said a thing about his arrival, but she’d been a part of it. No wonder Maxwell had been whining. It made sense now. The dog had picked up on Kaaras being here before she even could.
Aban grabbed Kaaras by the cheeks, planting a motherly kiss on his forehead. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much, Kaaras.” She pulled him in for another tight hug, not wanting to let him go.
“Oh, please,” Aith muttered, poking her tongue out at the emotional display. That was until she felt the woman’s hand on her collar and was pulled into the embrace. She muffled against her mother’s clothes as she was stuck between the two, much larger, people.
“Alright, alright, I can’t frigging breathe down ‘ere!” Aith pulled herself from the grip and sucked down air. She did admit, it was good to see Kaaras again, and it was even better to see her mother so happy. Aban worked hard on the farm, but she knew she was lonely. She had been since they’d left, and since Anaan had passed away on that fateful night. Kaaras was going to flip when he found out that she was seeing someone else. Today wasn’t the day to tell him that, though. Today was a family day.
Pulling back out, Aban sniffed as she wiped the tears from her eyes, trying to gather herself once more.
“I missed you, too,” Kaaras said, putting his hand to her shoulder and offering her a calm smile. “I thought it was time to come back home, even if I can only stay for a couple of days.”
She didn’t want to let go of him, but she did, still trying to force the tears of joy back. Lifting her hand, she cupped his cheek to look at him through still somewhat blurred vision. “A couple of days to see my son is better than none at all. I will take it.” She thanked the Maker for it, too.
“Now come, come! You must be starved. Let me make you up something.”
Kaaras took his mother’s arm carefully and stopped her. “Mum, it’s okay,” he laughed. Of course she was trying to make him food, trying to still pamper him and give him what she could. But today was for her. He’d come for her, to make her happy, to finally come back home.
“I’ve brought supplies with me. You’re not going to be cooking on Mother’s Day, so Aith and I have decided we’re going to spoil you. To show you our love and appreciation for everything you’ve done for us. And we’re aware you’re not familiar with a lot of Southern holidays still.” After all, why would the Qun celebrate Mother’s Day? “So, we’re willing to show you.”
Aith gave a wide grin then. “Yep! So we’re gunna make you cake, with honey, and we picked up some flowers from the markets when Kaaras arrived.”
Kaaras’ eyes halved as he looked at his sister. “Well, they were going to be a surprise…” he murmured. Seeing his mother’s smile was enough, though. It wasn’t like they’d never had a Mother’s Day celebration, but they had been late to the party considering his parents’ culture shock. It took years for them to realise birthdays were celebrated amongst humans.
“Oh, shite, yeah… Sorry,” the elf uttered. “S’pose they’re not anymore, but it’s the thought that counts, aye?”
Aban made a soft laugh. “It is, indeed.” But all she really needed was her family together to feel blessed. She didn’t need the flowers, or the cake, or the honey. All she needed was her family, and they were here. There was nothing else she could ever ask for.
“Alright then.” Aith clapped her hands together before she rubbed them. “Let’s get this show on the road.” She moved out of the room to collect the supplies Kaaras had brought with him—and the not-so-much-surprise flowers.
A little overwhelmed by it all, Aban wiped her eyes again, brushing her long, white hair behind her ears. “Thank you, Kaaras. For coming. You are the best gift that I could ever receive.” She didn’t know what else to say. She’d grown up in a land where things like this were not a part of her culture. Kaaras had taught her so much just by growing up here and interacting with the people, but there were things she’d never quite understand fully of this land.
Kaaras pulled her in for another hug and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I should have done it sooner,” he said, pressing his face into her shoulder. “Happy Mother’s Day, mum. I love you.”
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anyway since these two fics are never gonna see the light of day, let me share my favorite excerpt from each because oh my fucking god senchrome
* i wrote the first one without rewatching/rereading the light bulb scene i literally forgot that the light was bright and not weak and flickering at all but let's just all conveniently forget that for the moment <3
Sweet Treat | Buck
♡ Pairing: Buck/Reader, Gender Neutral
♡ Genre: Fluff
♡ Word Count: 1.8k
♡ Warnings: None
♡ Request: I think it would be cool for you to write Eddie x enby reader (they/them pronouns please 🥺) and maybe like a meet cute of some sort? Maybe with Christopher if you want 👀♥️
♡ Summary: A long day takes a very sweet turn when you finally meet the blue eyed stranger from the ice cream shop.
♡ Note: For you @thatnerdemryn I hope you enjoy it :D Not beta’d
Everybody has their own little ways of rewarding themselves for working hard at a boring job all day, studying non stop, and just getting through daily life.
One of your little pick me ups is stopping by your favorite ice cream shop—Bennys—on the way home from work. It’s right on the pier, locally owned and has been around since you were a child. Store bought stuff simply can’t compare to the taste, and you just love it.
It’s a cozy setup, and they’ve got a few tables set up outside where you can eat your sugary treat and have a beautiful view of the glimmering ocean and sunset.
The perfect way to destress.
So here you are, after a long day standing patiently in line waiting for your turn. It’s a bit busier than normal as it’s a Friday, but you don’t really mind. There’s a jovial feeling in the air and it’s nice to see the pier alive.
Besides, you're a bit distracted by the familiar pair standing in front of you in line. A rather handsome, tall young man with dirty blonde hair and kind blue eyes, wearing a loose blue shirt and gray sweats with white sneakers. Whilst his son—at least you assume—is adorable with green eyes and fluffy hazel hair, dressed in a yellow button up, beige shorts, and brown sandals.
You usually see them here when you come, and they always look like they’re having the best time together.
Currently, the boy is talking about his latest school project in which he has to create a replica of a volcano erupting. He’s very excited about making it, and you can tell by the way his father replies to him, he is too.
It’s a very endearing sight that always brings a smile to your face.
And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a bit enchanted by the father. Not only is he very easy on the eyes, but he just has a very sweet friendly vibe. The two of you have never spoken, but you’ve shared a brief smile here and there, and maybe some lingering gazes.
Maybe you’ve got a little crush on the stranger, which you know is a bit silly, since he’s probably married or something, but oh well. It’s not like you have the courage to speak to him and find out either way.
The line slowly moves forward until they’re up and, and before you know, it's your turn and the familiar face of the ice cream scooper is in front of you. A teenager who you noticed started working here the last few weeks named Gina. She has a peppy demeanor with bright red hair and almond shaped brown eyes.
“Hello! What can I get for you today?” She says cheerfully.
“Uhh,” you mutter, eyes roving over the multitude of delicious and colorful flavors displayed through the transparent ice cream counter.
You’re not sure why you even bother thinking about it, considering you always get the same flavor. “A strawberry double scoop, on a sugar cone, please.”
“Coming right up!”
By the time she finishes and you’ve paid, the father son duo are sitting together at one of the small inside booths, chatting together and eating their ice cream. You only mean to look for a second, but you notice the blue-eyed stranger has a bit of chocolate ice-cream on his nose from his cone.
He doesn’t appear to have noticed, and judging from the mischievous smile on his son’s face, he won’t be telling him anytime soon.
You chuckle, and wait for the moment he happens to catch your eye. Thankfully, he notices you rather quickly, and you bring a hand up to your nose poking it lightly and arching an eyebrow. Hoping he gets the message.
He understands easily enough, shooting you an embarrassed, but grateful look before dipping his head down with a smile and grabbing a napkin to dab the ice cream away.
How cute they both are. I hope they have a good rest of their day.
Putting your change into the tip jar, you toss a final thank you to the cashier before making your way out.
However, as you’re exiting through the front door, an older man trying to enter brushes past you abruptly, startling you and causing your ice cream cone to slip out of your hand and fall to the ground.
“Oh man, I’m sorry about that,” you apologize, despite them being the one who caused the accident.
He barely tosses you a glance before walking on inside, and gives you a curt, “Watch where you’re going next time.” Not an inkling of apology or regret in his voice.
A tinge of annoyance flits through you at his rudeness and the loss of your ice cream, which is now melting on the sidewalk as you let out a long sigh.
Your one treat of the day, and it was ruined before you even got the chance to taste it. Inhaling sharply, you make a conscious decision not to let his behavior ruin your day. It’s fine. You can just get back in line again, no big deal.
However, spending another ten minutes waiting again just doesn’t seem appealing at the moment.
Maybe you’d just take a minute to breathe first.
Shaking off the unpleasant interaction, you pick up the cone and toss it in the green trash can by the door before walking over to one of the empty picnic tables facing the ocean.
You sit on the seat backwards, lounging your back against the wood as you take a deep breath and let yourself bask in the cool evening air.
The sun is now setting, creating a stunning melody of orange and purple hues that reflect over the cobalt water. Seeing this picturesque view is a pick up in itself, and as you take it in, the days worries slowly melt away from your mind.
A few minutes pass by, before you hear the thump of two pairs of foot falls behind you.
You don’t bother turning around at first, figuring it’s just people passing by, until someone taps you softy on the shoulder.
“Oh,” you say in surprise, as you turn your head to the right to see the little green eyed boy from the line, and his handsome father standing behind him.
Both of them are smiling at you, and you notice he’s holding a Benny’s cup filled with strawberry ice cream and a spoon sticking out of it to you.
“Hi, I’m Christopher and this is Buck, and um… we noticed you dropped yours… so we got you a new one.” He says, giving you a shy smile and urging you to take the cone.
The sweetness of the gesture surprises you, a smile spreading across your face as you quickly stand up, and take it from him.
“Wow, thank you so much, Christopher. It’s nice to meet you both, I’m Y/N, and y’all didn’t have to do this, it’s so kind.” You’re not sure what to say, honestly so grateful and taken aback by this.
“It’s no problem at all, we noticed that guy bumped into you and didn’t even apologize.” The man you now know as Buck, explains as he shakes his head slightly. Disapproval clear in his voice.
“Mhm, that wasn’t very nice. I’m sorry.” Christopher adds, his brown eyebrows knitted together.
Ah, so they saw that and everything? They must have finished up and bought one for me right away… how sweet.
“No, it wasn’t, but it’s okay. I really appreciate you both doing this, and you have a very sweet son, Buck.”
Confusion crosses Christopher and Buck’s faces as they glance at each other.
“Buck isn’t my dad, he’s my uncle, silly!” Christopher giggles.
“Oh!” You nodded in understanding, “I’m so sorry, I just assumed from how close the two of you seem, and from how many times I’ve seen you at Benny’s together.”
“No problem at all. I don’t have any kids myself, though if I did, I’d be lucky to have one as great as Chris.” Buck grins, ruffling Christopher’s hair affectionately.
“I see.. I can definitely tell he’s a great kid. Well, at least let me pay you back?” You offer, already reaching into your backpocket for your wallet.
“No need, it’s on us.” Buck says quickly, waving his hand.
“Are you sure? Y’all got the flavor right and everything, it's the least I can do.”
“Buck said he notices you get strawberry all the time, so that’s why we picked it for you.” Christopher chirps.
“Oh?” You question curiously, tilting your head to the side at Christopher’s words, as you meet Buck’s gaze. “He noticed, did he?”
Buck immediately looks a bit embarrassed, his cheeks flushing as he brings his hand up to rub the back of his head. “Well, erm yeah, we’ve seen you here before as well, of course.”
There’s something about the way he says it, so adorable and shy, that lets you know, maybe you aren’t the only one whose noticed the other a bit.
Deciding to take a chance, you lean down a bit so you’re at Christopher’s height and whisper to him, “Hey, how would you like to play some games on the pier together, on me? My way of saying thank you for the ice cream.”
Christopher immediately lights up at that. “Yeah! Can we please, Buck?” He exclaims, turning around to face Buck with excitement sparkling in his eyes.
“Of course, bud!” Buck agrees happily, chuckling when Christopher grabs his arm and right away starts pulling him towards the game booths, which are located on the other side of the pier.
“Come on, Y/N!” The boy calls, tossing a look behind him to make sure you’re coming along with them.
You take a bite of your ice cream as you follow, matching Buck’s pace as you do with a smile on your face.
Buck’s blue eyes flicker to yours, eyeing you curiously, “You sure about this? I can get a little competitive, I won’t lie.”
“I think I can handle it. I’ve wasted more than enough money on these booths, but we’ll have to see. Maybe whoever loses the most, has to buy the other more ice cream?” You offer teasingly.
“Hmmm,” Buck humms thoughtfully for a moment, “make it coffee at a nice café where we could get to know each other a bit, and you’re on.”
Your breath hitches in your throat slightly at his words, knowing he was essentially asking you on a date.
His eyes shift away from yours and back to Christopher who is chatting excitedly about which game the three of you should try, but you can tell he’s a bit nervous for your answer.
You wait until Christopher has stopped in front of the booths before stepping a bit closer to Buck and nudging him softly with your shoulder, “You’re on, Buck.”
The shining smile he gives in response might just be the sweetest treat of all.
Want to check out my other works? Find my masterlist here!
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reading buddie fics as a spanish speaker is a disaster waiting to happen
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you just don’t know it yet but baby, i’ve already got your heart (diane sherman x fem!reader NSFW)
both an anon and @magnifique-monstre requested yandere prompt 6 and 17 (i think?) so I’m gonna combine them because they would go together well
prompt 6: “Pretend you never saw that. I can’t stand it when you look so scared.”
prompt 17: “I’m the only thing keeping you safe from a filthy, disgusting world.”
warnings: everything, basically. it’s pretty fucked up actually. TW for drugging, stalking, dubcon, emetophobia warning (just one mention), kidnapping, etc. also teacher!diane
summary: Diane Sherman was your Professor, and then your girlfriend, and then your caretaker. As the days start to become hazy and mixed up with one another, you wonder if Diane is trustworthy.
Every day was basically the same. Wake up, take your meds, have breakfast with Diane. Then you would either accompany Diane to school or she would take you to the doctor’s or sometimes, if you felt up to it, she would take you on some sort of outing. She never liked to leave you alone and protectively followed you nearly everywhere you went. She took you home, and you would rest by her as she worked on her grading. At night Diane would make dinner for the two of you, the two of you would relax together, she would make sure you took the medication you needed at night and then you fell asleep in her arms.
It was nice. But you noticed that you started to forget things. You sometimes forgot how you even knew Diane, you even forgot your whole life before you met her at times. You were supposed to be on medical leave for a semester, which turned into a whole year, and- how long has it been now? You had no idea. You thought it was still summer, but the days started to blur together. The next year may have started, you had no way of knowing. Diane taught year round, so you went to school with her either way.
You remembered how everything started, though. You were a freshman, and you had moved across the country for college. You felt alone, and scared. You took a Chemistry class because you had to take some sort of science course, and it was the only one available when you signed up. You dreaded going, until you saw Professor Sherman. You struggled a bit in the class, so you went to her office hours. It was also a good excuse to talk to her, you thought.
She was a lot nicer than some of your other professors, and she helped you through the problems you struggled with.
“You know, students don’t usually like to come to my office hours, so feel free to show up whenever you need me. Alright, hon?”
“Of course. Thanks, Professor.”
How did it turn into this?
Oh, right. You and Diane started to get closer, and you started to come down with lots of rashes, general pains, and you started getting sick to your stomach more and more.
One day, you emailed Diane to tell her you couldn’t make it to her lab because you had thrown up that morning, to which she responded by asking what dorm you were in and if you needed anything.
It might be nice if you could bring me some saltines or something to settle my stomach? I have nothing in my dorm and can’t really stand up yet. Don’t worry about it though. I don’t want to get you sick, and are you even allowed in the dorms?
I’ll be fine, and it really isn’t a big deal. We’re both adults, and I just want to help you.
- thinking of you, Prof. Diane Sherman
Next thing you remember, Diane showed up to your dorm a few minutes after your lab would have ended and brought not just crackers, but ginger ale, soup, water, blankets, and several different medicines. You talked for a while too, but couldn’t for the life of you remember what about. But you did remember that she stayed with you as long as you needed her, and promised to come back if you needed it.
You didn’t get better. You managed to get through your finals and pass your first semester classes, but you ended up having to spend much of Winter break in the hospital. Your parents came to visit, as did Diane. Diane actually came back every day, making sure you were okay.
You remembered that because of the silver necklace Diane gave you that Christmas that you still wore every single day. You felt bad when you got it because you didn’t think to get her a gift, but she told you not to worry about that, this was just a little thing that made her think of you. Besides, you were in the hospital!
“You know (y/n), I don’t have anyone else to visit over the holidays. I’m glad I get to be with you. I just wish it were under better circumstances.”
You started feeling a bit better and were able to come back for your second semester classes. You didn’t have Diane as a professor anymore, but you started to become friends. You would get coffee, or dinner. One night she asked you to come home with her, and be her girlfriend, to which you immediately agreed.
You slowly spent fewer nights at your dorm and more nights with Diane, and then you got sick again. After that, she convinced you to move in with her full-time, and you’ve been living in her house and sleeping in her bed ever since.
Right now, you were sitting in Diane’s and your bed, as she made dinner. You struggled to remember what happened next. This was when everything started to blend together. Your illnesses worsened even more shortly after you moved in with Diane. You remember being confined to the very same bed as Diane helped you do your finals from home, as she explained the situation to your parents and easily charmed them, convincing them you were in great hands.
“(Y/n), time for dinner!”, Diane called. She then walked to the bedroom to check if you needed any help.
“I’m fine, actually. I’ve been feeling a little better.”
“Good. Such a brave, good girl. Now eat up, alright baby?” cooed the older woman as she led you to the table and sat you down.
“Well, physically I’ve been feeling better, but-”
“What? What’s wrong? Have I not been paying enough attention to you? Are you feeling sad? anxious? My poor baby-”
“No, none of that. I’ve just been- forgetting things. Like, big chunks. My memories are so foggy. It’s hard for me to think at all sometimes.”
“Oh, honey, that’s just a side effect of your medication. It’s okay, it won’t last forever. And I’ll help you fill in any gaps you need until then. But you don’t need to worry. Not when you’re with me. Okay angel?”
“Oh, we’re in that kind of mood, are we?”
“Is that okay?”
“Very, very, okay, little one.”
Mommy was what you called Diane most often during sex. It turned her on immensely, and it excited you as well.
Diane grabbed you and brought you to the bed, tearing off your clothes.
“Are you still feeling good?”
“Such a good girl for me. Such a good girl for Mommy.”
You spread your legs for her and she started touching you. But then-
“Mommy stop please. I can’t do this, Diane-”
“Alright. I’m sorry, I’ll go get your meds.
Diane went to the bathroom to get your meds and sleep aids.
“Why can’t I remember things? I can’t even remember some things about my family.”
“A side effect of some of your medication sweetie. I told you that.”
“Yes. I will tell you this, my love. People have hurt you, in your past. I remember when we met you were having such a difficult time. You wanted friends, you had so much trouble making friends. The other students were so mean to you. Your parents they- they acted like having to come see you when you were in the hospital was some kind of inconvenience. It was awful. You were so lonely.”
“I know I was lonely.”
“Yes, sweetheart. You needed someone. You needed me. I have to be the one to take care of you. I am the only person that can love the way you deserve to be loved. I’m the only thing keeping you safe from a filthy, disgusting world. And I need you too. I need to love and protect you.”
“Yes, Diane. I need to sleep now.”
“Alright. Come here, darling,” said Diane. She held you until you fell asleep.
Next thing you knew, you were tied to the pole in the basement with several ropes. Diane was tying more and more ropes around you, around different parts of your body. The world felt heavy, blurry, fluid.
“Please stop, Diane. Why are you doing this?”
“It’s for your own good, darling. Trust me. You need this.”
The ropes began to cover your entire body. Your face, eyes, neck. Especially your neck. There was a sharp sting on your neck.
Your eyes flew open, and you awoke in a cold sweat, and screamed.
It was just a dream, I’m safe, thank God. Diane would never-
But then you noticed Diane. She was holding a small syringe, that seemed empty. And your neck stung. She was startled by your scream, clearly not expecting you to have woken up.
“Pretend you never saw that. I can’t stand it when you look so scared.”
“What did you do to me? What was in there, Diane?”
“You need it, sweetheart. I know you don’t like needles.”
“No. Why didn’t you tell me? What’s going on?”
“You need this. You need me. Your-”
You searched for the syringe and found it. There was a thick, black residue on it, and you sniffed it. It gave you a head rush.
“You’ve been drugging me. This is why I’ve forgotten things, isn’t it?”
“Come on, angel. You know I wouldn’t”
“Don’t worry, just go back to sleep.”
You did feel tired. So tired. And you couldn’t even remember what you and Diane were even fighting about. So you went to sleep in her arms.
The next morning, Diane made you breakfast.
“How did you sleep, (y/n)?”
“I don’t know. I think I had a nightmare but I can’t remember-”
“Oh no! At least you can’t remember it, right?”
“I- I guess so.”
Diane felt relief that you didn’t remember what happened last night. Her plan was working. You would be hers, her precious girl, forever. All that work to find you, to make you trust her, making you sick, making you need her. She knew everything about you. You were her perfect girl, and she was yours. And you always would be.
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hey, gen side of supernatural, what are some good fics that aren't about the Winchesters as kids?
hi hello i've never left an ask here before but your tsukishima morning sex fic lives in my mind rent free. like i literally haven't stopped thinking about it since i read it last year (??? ur mind)
this isn't a request but i just wanted to share a thought i had. u know those cat ears that move according to your brain waves (these ones, they're called necomimi if the link doesn't work)
imagine whichever character who's in to pet play just . making you put those on with the maid dress and hgbjnfgnjhlknfgn
anyway i hope you are doing well :O
(for my own reference i am leaving this here: 🎐)
omg i forgot i wrote that fic...i would go back and read it but ive started cringing at my old writing so i will Not. im rlly glad u like it!!! v glad v glad
wtf they make cat ears that MOVE WITH UR BRAIN WAVES WTF??? hold on. omg theyre CUTE....oh my god they were 100 dollars are u kidding me. thats crazy. i had no idea these existed. i want to make tsukishima wear them
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“Shall we take this somewhere else, my dear?”
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Ask for it (Erik Stevens x OC) Short
“You say you’re not scared, but why are you on your toes?”
“Answer me Alicia.”
Her nipples ached and she throbbed.
“I am not scared of you Erik.” She grit out.
But she was lying. Because she was scared. Scared out of her mind that he’d spin her around and spank her to hell.
Scared that she’d have to call off work because she couldn’t bear to sit for an 8 hour day.
Scared that she’d beg him to do it herself.
Scared that she’d love it.
A/N — I try to refrain from writing smut because I’m on a journey to be more wholesome lol. This was in my doc and I had to get it out or I’d write it fully.
I’m thinking of doing that more often. Sometimes I get a scene in my head and just want to write it out.