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discotitsposts · 12 days

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but daddy, i hate you

when spencer recieves a birthday card from his estranged father you help him deal with his feelings

gets a little steamy at the end so 18+ recommended

this is how i deal w my own feelings lol

a little background: set in season 13-14. right before spencer’s birthday. you’re spencer’s wife, you’ve been together around 7 years. You work at the bookstore that you and spencer own. (he helps you run it and is co owner, you run it together) also, Spencer and you live in the apartment above the store.

It’s a beautiful Saturday morning and you’ve been going through boxes of new books for your store before you open for the day. It’s Spencer’s day off and he’s at the counter adding up the figures and making sure everything is in order for your busiest day of the week.

You hear a knock at the front door. “I’ll get it!” You yell to Spencer. You unlock the door and the mailman hands you your mail. “Thanks Jim, how’s Martha?” You ask him.

“She’s great, she’s dropping by later with cookies!”

“Cool! See you tomorrow!” You wave bye and start going through the mail.

“Hey, hon, there’s something for you from…” You stop when you read the name. William Reid. Spencer hadn’t seen nor heard from his father in almost 10 years. He was still very much angry about anything to do with his father. As were you. You couldn’t believe he hadn’t reached out at all.

“From who?” He asks, not looking up from the financial log. He puts his pencil down and reaches his hand out for you to hand him the envelope. You hesitate but hand it to him anyway.

You watch his face drop when he reads the name and address. Oh, how you wished to take the envelope out of his hands and hold him and tell him to forget that silly piece of paper forever. He peels the envelope open, careful not to touch the seal. He feels the dread fill his heart when he sees the contents. A card that says ‘Happy Birthday’ on the front, and ‘to a very special boy’ on the inside.

“What does he think I am? A fucking child?” He shouts, making you jump. “Sorry.” He apologizes and sighs.

“It’s alright, I’ll leave you alone with that.” You start to back away.

“No, don’t. Stay, please.” He begs with his beautiful eyes.

You nod and move closer. He begins reading the handwritten message on the inside of the card.

“Dear Spencer, Hope you’re not too upset with me, I am proud of you. We haven’t talked in a while, you haven’t called. You have the number. Don’t hesitate to reach out. How is Diana? Miss you. Happiest of Birthdays. Love, your father.” He reads it off, mocking every word.

“What the fuck! He hasn’t sent a card in 9 fucking years! Why now?” He raises his voice.

“I don’t..”

He cuts you off, “I’ll tell you why, because he’s either finally feeling bad about everything or he wants something. Well I won’t call him. I fucking hate him.”

“It’s a dick move to blame you for not reaching out, but honestly? Maybe you should, find out what he wants. If he honestly just wants to talk, it might be the closure you need. If he just wants something from you, you can tell him to fuck off. Obviously you don’t have to but maybe you should consider it. I know he was an asshole to you the last time, but you know I regretted not telling my father everything I wanted to say.” You’re watching your words, his father was a touchy subject.

He thinks for a minute and then sits back down and covers his face with his hands. “Maybe you’re right. You alright to open by yourself today? I think I’ll give him a call.”

“Yeah, go ahead. Good luck.”

He walks over to you and gives you a kiss and runs upstairs. He looked like a little kid who had just been given their favorite candy.

Later, when you’re closing the store for lunch break, you hear a loud crash from upstairs. You run upstairs, afraid Spencer had fallen and hurt himself. Worse. He was on the floor crying his eyes out. He had knocked the bookshelf over and he was surrounded by collapsed books.

You carefully step over the books to get to him.

“What happened?” You ask softly, so as to not startle him. He keeps crying into his hands but removes one to take your hand into his.

“I called, told him I received the card and I was willing to talk with him. I- I tried to…” His voice starts to trail off because he’s crying so hard he can’t speak. You rub his back reassuringly. “It’s ok, take your time.”

“I wanted to tell him, I’m married, and my life is going great. I didn’t even get to say anything. He stopped me and asked what card I was talking about. Turns out his new wife felt he should speak with his son, wrote the card and sent it to me. I should have known it wasn’t his handwriting.” He’s so tired from crying he just lays his head in your lap and stares.

“I’m so sorry love.” You say while running your fingers through his hair. Anger coursing through your veins.

“He hung up on me too.” His voice breaks as he says this. It has you fuming mad even more so. How could he do that? You could practically hear Spencer’s heart snapping in two.

He’s crushing your legs, so you convince him to stand up and have him go lay in bed with you. You cover him with the blankets and just hold him until he falls asleep.

You wake up a few hours later and he’s still asleep. You slyly grab his phone and write down William’s number. You take the paper, and your jacket downstairs.

You go to the store phone and as you’re dialing the number your stomach turns. Was this a good idea? After all I’m doing this for Spencer. You think as the line rings.

“Hello? Who is this?” A woman’s voice answers.

“Hello, is William Reid there?” Your voice quivers. You hear shuffling and the woman calls “Will! Phone!” in the background.

More shuffling. Then a man’s voice. “Who is this?” He says sternly.

“Hello, you don’t know me but I-“

“Then why are you calling me?”

“I’m your son’s wife, and I think we need to have a talk.”

“Spencer’s married?” He asks almost longingly. He sounded interested. Good.

“What kind of father are you? You don’t let him know you even want to be in his life and now all of a sudden you do? When he does finally reach out you hang up on him?”

“Ok that was because I went to go talk to my wife about why she sent my son a card from me.”

This goes on for a while, you yelling at Mr. Reid for his rude behavior.

The next morning you wake up to Spencer speaking to someone on the phone. Still groggy, you’re confused and mouth, ‘who is it?’

He holds up a finger to say hold on. He’s smiling. Maybe Prentiss is letting him take the next few days off!

“Alright bye! Love you!” He says into the phone, almost giddy. He hangs up and you tilt your head confused. He has the biggest grin on his adorable face.

“It was my dad. He was calling when I woke up. I can’t believe he reached out and he apologized! Can you believe it? He’s never really apologized to me before! We had a long talk, it was nice. Really nice.” He sits on the bed smiling.

“Is that so? Talk about a change of heart.” You smile to yourself knowing what you had done.

“You know what else he said?”

“What else did he say?”

“He said the little talking-to you gave him worked.” Spencer chuckles knowingly.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you.”

“No, I’m not upset. I actually am glad you did it. He wants to come and visit us. He wants to meet you too.” He pulls you into a big hug. “I love you. Thank you.” He kisses your neck.

“You’re welcome. I love you too.” You pull back and hold his face in your hand.

“Since you did me a favor, I think I owe you one. Lay back.” He gently spreads your legs apart and repays the favor to you. All day long.

the end 💞

it hurt me so bad to write spencer crying

to anyone who read this hope you enjoy! please don’t hesitate to leave feedback if you like this!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #mgg #matthewgraygubler #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

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applebutter-and-cinnamon · 11 months

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The Night Before

Summary: The time shared before Jake leaves for deployment.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Warning: mentions of deployment, time spent apart, slight angst, some fluff

Read More: Coming Home (Can be read as Part 2)

You knew what you were getting into when you'd agreed to your first date together. It didn't mean that you were prepared for it. Dating a Naval Aviator, one of the best who was in a squadron with other, equally talented aviators, it was only a matter of time before the Navy called on them again.

You'd met Jake after the dagger squad had returned from their first mission together, before they had been grouped together permanently. Your first date together had gone so much better than you had thought it would, but Jake had amazed you with. You learned that he was more than his dazzling green eyes. He was smart, witty, and compassionate.

Now, 3 months later you found yourself in his living room, cuddling up next to him on the couch. He'd turned on a movie at some point after the two of you had spent hours memorizing the lines of each others bodies. His hand was resting on your knee and your head was laying against his arm. You were trying to soak up as much of him as you could before he left tomorrow, breathing in the smell of his cologne and basking in the warmth of his skin against yours.

"Where's your pretty little mind, Sweetheart?" Jake asked, his voice soft and low as he whispered in your ear.

You shrugged, turning your head so that your voice was muffled into his chest.

He rubbed your knee gently, "Babe, you know I can't understand you when you do that. Come on, what are you thinking about?"

"Just tomorrow," you told him, picking your head up a little so he could hear you. "I'm going to miss you."

Jake's chest vibrated with the little hum that he let out in understanding. He brought his hand up from where it was, maneuvering you as he wrapped it around your shoulders to bring you closer to him. "I'm going to miss you, too."

You felt him press a light kiss to the top of your head. Tilting your head up, your eyes locked onto his and you tried to memorize the exact shade of green they were and the number of eyelashes that framed their perfect shape.

He was looking at you like he was trying to drink in every detail. His eyes roaming every inch of your face as he gazed down at you.

"I'm going to write to you everyday," you promised him.

He smiled, teeth glinting from the light of the television. "It might get tedious."

"Not if it's you that I'm writing to," you told him.

His eyes softened, "You'll keep me updated about the squirel that's digging into your flower bed?"

"I'll write you a play-by-play of every movement he makes and I'll write to you about everything that happens at work -"

"You'd better. I need to keep up with the tea at your job so that I know if that bitch, Martha pulls any shit again." Jake was smirking mischievously but you knew how to read him now and he couldn't hide the very real sadness that was taking over him.

"I wouldn't want to tell anyone else," you assure him.

Jake nods and looks away from you down the hall where his office is. You haven't been in there a lot, but from the times that you've stayed the night, you knew the layout of his house. "If anything goes wrong," he begins, "Everything that you'd need to know is in the office. I know you're planning on popping in here every so often to check on things, but I've left all of my documents in case something happens in the upper left drawer."

You're glad he's not looking at you when he speaks, his words causing your stomach to twist unpleasantly, but you nod anyway. It's important to him that you know this, even if neither of you enjoy the topic.

"You'll come back to me," your words come out more hesitant than you had intended.

Jake's eyes snap back to yours, earnest determination shining brightly in them. "I will always, always do everything I can to try to make it back to you."

It should've scared both of you, the amount of commitment you were showing to each other so early in the relationship but neither of you could deny how right it felt to be with the other. His words, you knew, would echo around your head while he was gone, soothing you on the long nights without him.

You reached up to cup his face with your hand, bringing him closer for a deep kiss. The taste of him was an elixir that you could get drunk off of. The feeling of his hands around you, pulling you closer to him until a slip of paper wouldn't fit between you was a drug that you were addicted to.

You broke apart, breathing heavily with your forehead pressed against his. Wrapping his arms securely around your waist, he stood and carried you back into his bedroom, laying you down on the mattress with heartbreaking gentleness. Jake crawled in behind you and you fit your legs between his, curling into his body. The sheets were cool now, but still tussled from your time spent in them earlier.

He was tracing shapes along the small of your back as you played with the blonde hair on his chest. "Can I have your Longhorns sweater while you're gone?"

Jake hummed, "Of course."

"And can you spray it with your cologne?" You were both whispering now, some part of you knowing that to speak any louder was to break the bubble you were both living in. You'd do anything to keep him here in this bed with you and keep time from moving forward, pulling him away from you.

"Mmhmm," his eyes were falling shut, despite his obvious attempts at keeping them open.

"Sleep," you whispered. "You're going to need it."

Jake forced his heavy eyelids open, "I wanted to spend more time with you."

You pulled the covers higher up his chest, "I'll still be here."

"Talk to me," he asked, voice groggy. "Want your voice... Sleep better."

You pressed a small kiss to his skin, watching as his chest rose and fell with each breath. You licked your lips and began talking about everything mundane you could think of. Small, unimportant topics that you'd miss talking to him about while he was gone.

It didn't take long for his breathing to even out and for his hands to stop tracing against your skin. You stayed awake, gazing at him and taking mental pictures for you to remember. Your heart was beating painfully in your chest, a small crack forming as it prepared for the anguish that always filled you when the thought of being separated from the man you loved came up.

You knew that Jake would do his best to talk to you as often as he could. He'd already promised to call and write letters as often as he was allowed, but it was your first deployment as a couple. There was a part of you that was afraid that he'd come back and decide that you weren't the person he wanted anymore. You had no idea if this deployment would change him as much as his squad said the last one had.

His soft snore shook you from your thoughts. You ran your fingers through his hair so softly as to not wake him. "I love you," you whispered the secret into his chest. The way you always did when you had your buried your head in there, speaking the words directly to his heart and hoping that each time you spoke them that he'd feel the weight of them there long after you'd said it.

You settled next to him, curling around him. You cleared your mind of all thoughts of the morning and let his breathing soothe you to sleep.

When Jake was sure that you were sleeping soundly next to him he allowed himself a small smile and whispered, "I love you too."

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #applebutter and cinnamon masterlist

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nipuni · 3 months

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I have another DW report! It took a while because we've been hosting friends and family visiting from abroad for a few months now and had a lot of work on top of that so we haven't had much quiet time alone to sit and watch but we made it to the end of S10!!

I'll share our thoughts under the cut because it's a lot!

We adored 12! His run was amazing, one of the best! A lot of episodes became all time favourites for us and Peter Capaldi is now our second favourite Doctor after David. His acting is impeccable and he is a delight to watch. He is so funny and inspiring and everything The Doctor should be, absolutely loved him!!

We enjoyed Clara, her characterization had some inconsistencies with her having several different arcs that felt disjointed at times but she is so memorable and made herself into such an integral part of The Doctor's life. Watching her change and their relationship become more codependent and unhinged as time went on was super interesting. Nardole grew on us. And BILL? Bill!! Oh my god dear Bill managed to outsuffer even Martha and that is saying a lot, I'm still traumatized I was not expecting the finale to go that way for her what the fuck and what a finale that was, devastating, we loved it!! but GOD sweet Bill her fate was brutal, I would have loved to see her go on more adventures and grow 😭

Now, the highlight of these seasons for me was Missy!! I'm obsessed, she's my favourite version of The Master so far and my favourite character after The Doctor, I LOVE HER 🙏 She needs more seasons! (I'm aware of the audios I'll get my ears on those as soon as I can) She's hilarious and clever, mean but soft and so so gorgeous AHHHHH She somehow manages to be terrifying and endearing at the same time and you can feel and share The Doctor's hope for her. Her death broke my heart, what do you mean The Doctor will never find out she stood with him in the end!! The romance, the tragedy!! I didn't dare hope they would take their story there and they went above and beyond. Every second she was on screen I was holding my breath and kicking my feet for real. To the people that said I would love their relationship when I started watching DW you were so right and know me too well 😳

Some of our favourite episodes from 12's run were Listen, Mummy on the Orient express, Heaven Sent and The doctor falls. Though there are a lot of good ones really, all the ones with Missy in them, Deep Breath, Flatline, Oxygen, the heist one, Thin Ice, The pilot, the one with the ghosts underwater, the ones with the pyramid monks, the parts with River, the one with the boxes and Zygons, the last special, all really enjoyable!!

We are also five episodes into S11 and I have to admit that despite our best efforts so far we are not enjoying Chibnall's writing at all 😫 but it's still early so we stay hopeful, maybe it's just a rough start and it will pick up after all the exposition. We will keep going so that we are all caught up by the time the new season starts airing!!

I hope you are all doing well! I am once again apologizing for not replying to asks in ages!! I've been mostly away from social media for months outside of posting every now and then so they keep piling up and it's become intimidating 😫 but I'll get to them soon!!

I also wanted to thank you for all the kind comments and tags on my art and photos, they really keep me going so I'm very grateful!! 😭💖

#doctor who #DW report #personal

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bravevulnerability · 9 months

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would you be open to writing more? whatever you want, if so!

A/N: I'm actually doing a rewatch of Castle with a friend right now. We're on season two and just watched 2x11 (The Fifth Bullet) last night, so...

Set during 2x13 (Sucker Punch).

“I’m scared. I mean, what if it doesn't work out? What if it does?”

“That's the cost of living.”

“I just don't want to ruin this.”

“This is dead. You are not. Time to start making some new memories."

- Martha Rodgers & Richard Castle, 2x11.

She hears the crack of his skull the second before the fire of her gun, the crackle of her bullet, echoes through the air.

Castle staggers to the precinct floor, cradling the back of his head. Beckett is rooted to the spot, her shoulders tight, hands steady, heart pounding. But then he is falling, her sidekick - no, partner - collapsing beside Coonan's bloodied body, and she forces the grief back down her throat.

For a split second, she hesitates. Maybe... maybe she could keep focus her attention on keeping Coonan alive. But deep down, she knows. She knows her shot was dead center, she knows he's gone. And Castle is down.

"Castle!" she calls, holstering her gun and racing to his side, stepping over Coonan's dead body.

He's slumped against the wall, eyes closed, out cold. Her hands brace at his shoulders, steadying him as his body drifts sideways against the wall.

"Hey, Castle," she murmurs softer, an ice cold trickle of fear slivering down her back. Did he really hit Coonan that hard? Hard enough to knock himself out? "I need a bus!"

"Already on the way, Beckett."

Esposito and Ryan are at her side, Montgomery with two fingers to Coonan's neck. She doesn't let herself look long enough to see what she already knows, to watch the shake of her captain's head.

She sits at his bedside in the hospital. The doctor is betting on a concussion, but isn't able to make any firm conclusions until Castle is conscious again.

His mother and daughter met her at the hospital, fluttering in and out of the room like anxious birds. She abused her badge to gain access for the three of them to his room, to stay long past visiting hours. Alexis sleeps on the couch on the other side of the room now, his mother already having returned to the loft to retrieve a fresh pair of clothes for Castle.

"Are you okay, kiddo?" Martha had asked her, her voice quiet so not to wake Alexis.

"Yeah, Martha. I'm fine," she assured the other woman, forcing a smile to cross her lips.

Martha only frowned at her in return. "He's going to be okay, Katherine. I know my boy," she promised Kate with so much conviction, she wanted to believe her. "And when he sees you sitting there, he'll be even better than."

Martha had left the room with a wink, but Beckett couldn't adopt such hope. Her guilt was too busy dragging her heart down into the pit of her stomach.

It's late when his eyes flutter open, a flash of blue in the still darkness. She sits forward immediately, resisting the strange urge to grab his hand, cradle his palm in hers.

"Hey there, Chuck Norris, "she murmurs, earning the shift of his attention, the slight dip of his brow. "How's your head feeling?"

"Hurts," he rasps, wincing.

"I'm sorry," she sighs, reaching for the water beside his hospital bed. She positions the straw at his lips, watching him sip gratefully.

"Thank you," he hums, relaxing back into the pillow, but his eyes remain intense on her. "Where are we?"

"Hospital. The doctor's going to examine you again now that you're awake, but he thinks it's likely just a concussion that should heal without much issue."

"Concussion?" he echoes, confusion tugging at the corners of his mouth. "How?"

"I... you don't remember?" she asks gently. "Coonan, the precinct, the-"

"I don't remember," he interrupts with a deep frown. "I don't remember anything."

"Retrograde amnesia," the doctor announces. "The bump to his head, paired with the trauma of the situation... it's rare, but it happens."

Kate sits solemnly beside his mother and daughter, her hands knotted tightly together in her lap. Castle is dressed and perched on the edge of his hospital bed, his foot tapping nervously. He keeps looking at her, as if he's seeking her out.

She keeps her gaze on her knees.

"But it's not permanent, right?" Alexis inquires. "He can get his memory back?"

"It's a complex condition," the older man delivers gently. "He may have all of his memories back by tomorrow, he may never remember anything of his past ever again, or he may fall anywhere in between. It's impossible to tell. I'm so sorry."

Martha utters a soft cry of concern, Alexis grips her father's hand, murmuring reassurances at his side.

Kate stands from the plastic chair. "What can we do to make this as smooth on him as possible?"

"Not too much too soon, but it's okay to nudge reminders his way. Having his family here is a good first step," the doctor nods.

"My family," Castle speaks up, earning the attention of the room. "I know you're my mother and daughter." He nods to Martha and then Alexis, and then his eyes are settling on her once more. "And you... are my wife?"

Kate blinks before abruptly shaking her head. "No, no, we - we work together."

"What do we do?" he inquires, tilting his head in curiosity.

"Well, I'm a homicide detective-"

"I'm a cop?"

"No, you're a writer," she corrects with a twitch of her lips, but this only confuses him further.

"Then what am I doing with a cop?"

"Dad, it's kind of a long story," Alexis chimes in, shooting Beckett a nervous smile.

"But - but you and me?" He rises from the hospital bed, approaching Beckett slowly. "We're together?"

"Work together," she says carefully, but his face scrunches.

"No way," he murmurs, almost to himself, as if he's trying to work out the equation on his own. "If we're not together, we want to be?"

Her throat spasms with panic. C'mon Castle, no. Not in front of his mom and his kid.

"No, we're - we're just friends, Castle."

"Castle?" he repeats, testing the surname in his mouth. "Richard Castle? Weird name."

"No, not weird," she sighs, risking a step towards him. "It's the name of a best-selling author, who is a great asset to a homicide department of the NYPD."

The first true glimpse of him - the smile, the ripple of bright blue in his eyes - flickers before her.

"Why don't you go back to the loft with your mother, with Alexis, and see if anything sparks," she suggests, catching his daughter's eye over his shoulder.

Alexis nods eagerly. "Yeah, Dad. I think it's a great place to start. We can take a literal walk down memory lane."

Her heart eases ever so slightly when he glances to his daughter with the warmest of smiles. Somehow she knows that the large part of his brain dedicated to Alexis will return, unfurling like muscle memory through his mind.

Alexis loops her arm through his, guiding him out of the hospital room while the doctor hands Martha a stack of papers summarizing Castle's visit. They all exit the building together, prepared to go separate ways on the sidewalk, when Castle makes a sound of protest.

"Hey - I didn't get your name," he calls to her.

Something in her chest stings.

"Beckett. Kate," she adds, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Kate," he murmurs, affection, familiarity, and heat infused into the single syllable of her name. "I'll see you soon?"

"It would probably be good for him to see the Twelfth sometime," Martha quips, the smirk on his mother's lips subtle but there. "He practically spends half his time there."

"Twelfth?"

"The precinct. That's where you work with Detective Beckett, Dad," Alexis fills in, her arm still twined protectively through his.

"Oh." Castle's eyes flick back to Kate. "Until tomorrow?"

Her heart stumbles stupidly, just like it did the first time he said those words to her, the useless muscle tripping on hope.

"Yeah, Castle." She offers him the smallest hint of a smile. "See you tomorrow."

When Castle arrives at the precinct the next morning, it's with Alexis in tow. Everyone greets him like a hero, but he looks around clueless, a helpless attempt at a smile on his lips while his daughter guides him through the crowd of uniforms.

When he sees her across the bullpen, his eyes light up.

Her stomach turns. She doesn't know how to do this, to... to have him looking at her like that, all unguarded and vulnerable.

"Alexis walked me through my usual morning," he explains once he reaches her desk. His daughter is a few steps behind, talking with Ryan and Esposito, her red hair in a tight braid that sways as she nods along to whatever the boys are saying.

"That's good, Castle. Is it helping?"

"Not yet, but I'm hopeful," he shrugs, shoving hands into his pockets. "Do you ever call me by my first name?"

Beckett glances up from the paperwork scattered on her desk, the files she's failed to focus on since she arrived at five this morning.

"Sometimes," she muses. "It's nothing personal, just cop talk to use surnames."

"Beckett," he says. Testing it out, she realizes. "So do I only call you Kate at home?"

She forces her expression to remain neutral.

Home?

"Castle, we don't really see each other outside the precinct very often," she delivers carefully, watching his face fall.

"Ever?"

"I can't imagine how confusing this must be," she murmurs, shifting from her chair to move around her desk, move a little closer to him. Solely for the sake of keeping their conversation private. "But you and I... we're friends, partners, but not - not more."

His hand scrapes through his finely combed hair, the corners of his eyes settling into troubled lines.

"I just - I swore when I woke up this morning, you were supposed to be next to me."

Her lips part, surprise blooming on her tongue along with something else, something sweet.

"Dad?" Alexis saves her from having to answer. "I've got to get to class, but I'll be back for lunch."

"Don't worry, Pumpkin. I'll be-"

Alexis grabs his arm, her blue eyes wide. "What'd you just call me?"

Castle looks absolutely panicked. "P-pumpkin? I'm sorry, it just... came out."

"That's fantastic!" Alexis squeals, throwing her arms around his neck. "That means your memory must still be in there."

Castle hugs his daughter back, firm and relieved, his gaze flickering back to Kate with delight. So proud of himself.

"Must be," he grins.

His first day consists of nothing more than sitting in the chair beside Kate Beckett's desk, stealing longing glances at the woman he's convinced must have been his wife in another life. He obviously isn't sure of much right now, but for some reason, he feels certain of this.

He asks her questions about their time together, about their first meeting, the cases they've worked on together.

His brow furrows when she says they took a break over the last summer, but she bristles when he asks her why.

"I want to help, Castle, but I don't want to give you a biased history lesson," she explains. "The doctor said it's best if the memories are able to come back on their own."

He huffs at the response, but doesn't argue.

The days that follow are a lot of the same - he wakes up, has breakfast with his mother and daughter, walks with Alexis to school and then he makes his way to the Twelfth precinct to be with Kate.

It isn't until the third day that he has his first burst of memory. A burst that leads to an explosion.

Alexis.

She comes back so fast and strong, from the moment she came into his life until the day of the accident. She nearly cries when he tells her that morning, arms latched around his neck as he spins her around in the kitchen.

Bits and pieces of his mother come back next, patchy memories of his childhood, his teen years, his dream come true of becoming a bestselling author. It's all trickling back in like a stream to the river of his mind.

Everything, except for her.

It's been nearly a week and he still can't remember Kate.

"What's your memory of the day, Castle?" she asks him when he finds her in the break room that morning, fiddling with an expensive looking espresso machine.

"A book tour in Europe," he muses, approaching her with an eyebrow raised. Beckett scowls at the frother that hisses at her in return. "You're cute when you're angry."

She pierces him with a glare.

"But not with me," he mutters, coming up beside her and shooing her out of the way. "Here."

Without thinking, he prepares a latte for her, adding the two pumps of vanilla, just how she...

Glimpses of mornings spent with her - on sidewalks, parks, apartments all over the city - squeeze into his brain, pushing through the blank spaces like dripping water through cracks.

"Kate," he exhales, turning to find matching wonder in her gaze. "I bring you coffee."

She pins her bottom lip between her teeth, hazel eyes sparkling near green for him.

"Usually when we meet at crime scenes, but... but I bought this." He glances back to the espresso steaming into the waiting mug. "So you could always have good coffee here."

"Yeah," she exhales, but she's smiling at him. "You did make it a habit over the past year."

"Because it makes you smile," he adds, softer now, because part of him knows that the old him never shared this with her. But he doesn't try to stop the words. "And I love your smile."

That smile he loves so much doesn't exactly leave her face, but it falters, waning across her lips.

"I'm going to remember you," he promises - her or himself, he isn't sure.

"I'm sure you will," she answers quietly, something like sorrow bleeding into her gaze. "And when you remember everything, Rick - when you remember how you ended up in this mess, maybe you'll wish you could forget."

Kate avoids him for the rest of the day and he lets her, lets her have her space. He's learned enough to know that pushing her doesn't usually work in his favor.

He follows around Ryan and Esposito instead, squeezing out information, gaining small glimpses of the boys he once knew. He remembers Ryan's favorite tie, the video game Esposito's been trying to find time to play for the last two weeks - random tidbits he's grateful for. They're like little seeds and he knows if he just keeps tending to them, they'll grow.

He's not as patient with his memories of Beckett.

Esposito spills first.

"I'm only telling you this because if you get some random burst of memory in front of Beckett, you're gonna bust us both," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Beckett's mom was murdered, it's why she became a cop. Long story short, I let you see the file, you put your nose where it didn't belong and got involved, tried to bring your money into it to solve the case. It's how you ended up with amnesia and she ended up with another dead end."

It was my mother, not my father.

This is for the life that I saved, and this is for the life that I lost.

The crumpled woman in the alley, the stab wounds in her abdomen, the expert showing him the patterns of wounds on a dead woman's body.

You don't back down. That's what makes you extraordinary.

What if I let her down?

I didn't think you were arrogant, Castle. I thought what you did was sweet.

"Hey, hey, Castle? Are you okay, bro?"

His head is pounding. His body is sinking.

"Rick."

His eyes snap open to find Kate Beckett kneeling before him. He's on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, head cradled between the hard press of his palms.

The touch of her fingers to his arm is so careful, so comforting. He wants to tug her into his arms, bury his face in her neck, let the fantasy that's been running wild in his head since he woke up and saw her be real.

"Let me take you home."

He remembers her mother's case. Not everything, but the bones of it.

"I need you to let this go for tonight," she tells him. They're sitting in her cruiser outside of his loft. Hearing the flashes of his memories, the ones that spread through his brain like a decimating wildfire at the precinct, has a terrible mixture of resentment and guilt swirling through her insides.

She wants to hate him all over again for unearthing this to begin with, but she can't. She can't, because she's always known this was inevitable. A year of therapy could only keep her away from her mom's case for so long.

"You're angry with me."

"No, I'm not," she sighs, but she can't look at him. "I'm angry with myself, with the guy who killed with my mom, with the whole situation."

"But Kate-"

"But your memory - it's delicate. No more ambushing people for information."

She tears her eyes away from the window, the darkening skyline. Storm clouds roam the horizon, merging with the cloak of night.

He looks so sad in the passenger seat, his eyes down, head low. So many of his memories have come back to him, and yet his heart still looks so broken.

"And, I'm only going to say this once, but I need you to know something."

That earns the reluctant lift of his gaze, his attention.

"I have a hard job, Castle, and having you around makes it a little more fun," she admits, some of the ache of earlier draining away at the twitch of his lips. "So I need you to focus on getting better, on remembering me because - I want my partner back."

The smile he gives her has her leaning her head back against the seat, smiling back at him like an idiot.

"Your secret's safe with me, Kate."

His hand is reaching across the space between them, stealing hers, and she lets him have it.

The banging on her door has her jerking awake and reaching for her gun, but then she hears the familiar yet urgent calling of her name.

"Beckett! Beckett! Please be awake!"

She growls and hurries out of her bed, to her front door, before he can wake all of her neighbors.

She yanks the door open to see his fist raised and ready for another series of knocks. He's dripping wet, hair drenched and clothes soaked.

She notices then that it's raining outside, storming if the sound of the downpour and the rumble of thunder is any indication. And he's in nothing more than a t-shirt, flannel pajama pants, and a coat that's flapping open.

"Castle, what the hell are you doing?" she hisses, dragging him inside by his raised arm.

"Kate, Kate, I'm so sorry," he breathes, his chest falling heavy and fast, his teeth chattering. "I've been going through my files, trying to jog more memories and I - I found the file, my notes, all of it. The one on your mother, the one with the guy who I knocked out, who you had to-"

"Castle," she quiets him, reaching for the panicked, rain stricken face before her. God, he's freezing. "Hey, look at me - breathe."

"No, Kate, it's all my fault," he rasps, holding to her wrists, thumbs pressing at the points of her pulse. "I started all of this. And now your lead is dead and it's because of me-"

"If it wasn't for you, I would have never found my mom's killer," she cuts him off, wiping some of the moisture from his cheeks with the swipe of her thumbs.

The heaving of his chest slows, the anguish in his eyes dimming, calming.

She's never been this close to him before, able to feel the exhale of his cool breath on her lips. She should take a step back, slip her hands from his grasp, create some much needed distance between them.

But the way this version of Castle looks at her, so open and needful, so unabashed in his desire to be near her... it has her body canting towards him, her carefully crafted resistance waning.

"Was I angry at you when you opened this? Yes. But I know why you did it, okay? I know you care, and I appreciate you for it."

"I'm still sorry," he whispers, staring down at her. Raindrops from his hair drip down the slope of his nose, fall to the inches of hardwood between their feet. "I'm sorry it hurt you. I'm so sorry-"

"Shh, no more," she says, gentle but firm. "No more being sorry."

Castle sighs, resting the weight of his cheek into one of her palms, the edge of his lips grazing her skin.

"Thank you."

She nods, touching one of her thumbs to the dip in his chin.

"Did you run all the way here to tell me this, Castle?"

"I couldn't sleep anyway," he shrugs, still holding to the slim bones of her wrists. "I'm up every night, trying to remember more. Remember you."

Her gaze flicks back to his, the blue in his eyes shifting, storming like the clouds outside.

"You remember enough," she tries to placate him. "You've remembered cases, my coffee, the first time we met-"

"The details," he murmurs. "I want every detail back. I read the first Nikki Heat book."

She swallows hard, lowers her eyes to the fabric of his t-shirt plastered to his chest.

"I want to remember what I was thinking when I wrote the dedication, those interrogation scenes, page 105-"

"Stop," she whispers, but her heart is stuttering unevenly in her chest, bumping against ribs and making her feel unsteady.

"I want to remember the moment I knew I wanted more with you," he breathes.

"More?" she echoes, letting his hands glide along her arms, cupping her elbows, trailing her triceps, cradling her shoulders.

"Kate." He leans in, forehead bumping against hers. "When I woke up, I saw you."

Her body sways into his without her permission.

"And I knew it would be okay."

She shakes her head, but he's nudging his nose against hers, lips glancing over hers with such tentativeness.

"Rick."

"When you're not around, everything feels wrong."

She barely has to arch onto her toes to kiss him, barely has to lean forward to finally seal her lips to his. Castle moans softly, as if in relief, as he kisses her back, his arms wrapping around her.

She shivers when the cold, wet front of his body presses against hers, but the chill fails to stop her from rising into him, from hooking her arms around his neck, fingers in his hair.

His mouth is a caress over hers, his tongue reverent as it slips past the seam of her lips.

She's always known he would be good at this, that they would combust from chemistry the moment she finally allowed it, but she didn't prepare for the trembling need in her bones, the rabbitting of her heart, the slam of the door at his back.

"Has it - always been like this?" he gasps, the heat of his breath fanning across her lips.

"Like what?" she murmurs, feathering her fingers at the still healing bump at the base of his skull, tracing her other hand down his side, feeling the quick rise and fall of his ribcage.

"The wanting," he mumbles, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth. Kate hums, kissing him back and slipping a hand beneath the sopping fabric of his shirt. "I don't need to remember to know," he gets out, staining his lips to her jaw, searing along her bone. "I never wanted anyone like this."

He doesn't stop her from shoving the coat from his shoulders, the t-shirt over his head, letting it all hit the ground with a wet slap. He fists his hands in her oversized t-shirt, knuckles brushing the naked skin of her thighs, snagging in the lace at her hips.

Kate mewls against the nip of his teeth, dragging him from the door with her hands at his nape, walking backwards in the direction of her room.

"Me neither," she confesses into his mouth, finding that she believes it too. "It's always felt like this with us."

They stumble into her bedroom, but he's gentle as he lowers her onto the mattress, moves his body over hers, and kisses her like he wants to press every memory into her.

She gasps awake, her room still heavy with darkness, the storm still raging outside.

Her back is slick with sweat from that damn dream she's had every night since she shot Dick Coonan, since Castle lost his memories, since everything changed so brutally.

"Bad dream?"

Kate shifts in the sheets, finds him propped up on an elbow, watching her. Rain still spatters against the window across her room, painting splotches of moonlight and streaks of lightning across his skin. Rolling onto her back, she studies the bare expanse of his chest, the ruffled state of his hair, the clear sea of his eyes on her.

"Yeah," she murmurs, but her hand rises for his jaw, caressing the line of his throat with her fingers. "You?"

"No, just don't want to sleep."

Her fingers twine absentmindedly with the baby fine hairs at the base of his skull. "Why not? Afraid you might forget something?"

"Oh no," he grins, eyes sparking mischievously. "You were right, Kate. I had no idea."

Her lips part to make a remark when realization dawns on her.

"You remember that?"

"And a few other things," he teases, but he's smiling wide at her now, causing her heart to skip a few beats. "Not everything is there yet, still some blank spaces and pieces I can't unscramble yet, but... I'm pretty sure I remember the important parts."

She grins and snakes her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to meet him. His chest shakes with laughter against hers and then he's burying his face in her neck, kissing her shoulder.

"Even if I didn't-"

"We'd just make new ones, Castle," she promises him, drawing back and dragging him down with her when she lowers herself back to the mattress, his body draping warm and firm over hers. "I like our..."

"Story," he supplies for her, brushing stray strands of hair from her face.

"Our story," she chuckles. "But I could let go of a few pages if I can have this chapter."

"Ooh, Beckett," he grins, craning his neck to kiss her. "I didn't think you could get any hotter, but please keep using literary metaphors in bed."

She's laughing into his mouth, tangling her legs with his under the sheets.

"Wait," he gasps, tearing away from her. "I gotta ask-"

She arches an eyebrow impatiently.

"Remy's, tomorrow? I don't have a memory of us going on a first date."

Heat is radiating from his skin, his fingers twirling in her hair, and it scares the shit out of her, how much she likes him. How possible it could be to love him. She doesn't know if they would have ended up this way without the events of the last few days, but to resist it would be like fighting the tide. And she's rather enjoyed being swept up in him.

Maybe the fear is worth it, for the chance of loving him, letting him love her.

Her hands cradle his cheeks and she arches her neck to kiss him, slow and long and with desperation in the stroke of her tongue.

Castle moans and presses down, slotting into place against her.

"Yes," she breathes, stroking the bones of his cheek, letting her words caress his lips. "I'll make new memories with you, Rick."

#castle fanfiction #castle au #kate beckett #richard castle #2x11 #2x13 #castle #prompt #anon #mine

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hongjoongscafe · 10 months

Text

Bloody Love...

Chapter: V-Familiarity-

♠︎Pairing: yandere!king!jungkookxoc(coronis)

♠︎Genre: angst, smut, yandere, gore, dark romance, horror, creepy (dark fantasy).

♠︎Summary: "you happen to be in a world where wrong is right and right is wrong."

♠︎Word count: 4.6k+

♠︎Warning: murder, stalking, pussy eating (gxg)

♠︎Note: lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist!

♠︎Masterpost

♠︎Serieslist

Midnight. The time when the silence washes over the village. It is said that after midnight, the souls of the guards that died run around and protect the realm. This village was just a tiny part of that. There were numerous villages in this realm. But what made this village the worse was that the castle was closer to there.

Coronis found it silly. She loved the darkness of the night. The hauntingness of it was thrilling for her. The mist surrounding her vision gave her another satisfaction. She loved how calm and quiet it would get and there was no one hurdling her way.

Sometimes, she found everything extra silly. Things around her were unrealistic. The baseless hatred among mankind was exceptionally gruesome. It was like an everyday activity to pierce a knife through someone's heart.

At least at night, everyone was tired and shut in their shacks, leaving a speck of stability around. There was no one fighting, no one was drowning themselves in alcohol near the slouchy path. There were no deafening herds of horses or blood-curdling screams for mercy.

At night, it was all calm and collected. Yet it felt like some hawk eyes were piercing through her brain.

Coronis was with her father, coming back from the meadows on the other side of the woods. The only light reflecting was from the lantern they both held and the foggy moonlight.

The trees were blurring behind the thick haze. The path back to the village was horrendous and soaked. The mud was grossing Coronis out. The howls of the Owls were unsettling.

Amidst all the silent chaos, she could hear a crow cawing in the distance. That made her heart thump against her chest. The creepy horror was seeping into her bones as time passed.

After her brief engagement with Nori, when she returned back home, Martha told her about the work that she had to do with Draco. And they left for the meadows the next moment.

Her aunt had passed away after suffering from a bacterial infection. Though they had not visited her lately, she was still important to the family. And the wealth she had left behind was even more critical to take care of. Not because they were greedy for money but the fact that Cousin Griffin had left for the South for King's work. The property was needed to be saved from the predators who were too eager to get their hands on anything that could buy them a quick inebriation. This wealth belonged to Griffin, rightfully. And they needed to protect it for him.

Onyx had also returned the same day. He looked paler and thinner almost as if he was not fed enough. On asking, he just shrugged and said “I am just thankful to be here, alive.” which practically did not satisfy anyone's worries. Even Circe looked sympathetic to her older brother.

It was not surprising.

“We should have stayed there for a night,” Draco sighed as he stopped. It was a frigid night but his forehead was covered in sweat. He wiped and looked back at Coronis who was walking behind with a jute carrier on her shoulder, filled with emotional possessions.

Coronis stopped next to her father and dropped the sack on the ground. Her breath was huffing. “I think so. But it would have been much more perilous to bring it all with us without getting stabbed… So I think it is better now than tomorrow.”

Draco nodded, agreeing with her. “We should rest here before proceeding with this path. I feel my legs falling off.” He took out a little sheet for his daughter to sit on. They both sat down and sipped some water and munched on some bread that Coronis packed with them.

They both sat there in silence, hearing animals howl and growl in the space. But one echoing cawing was making her eye twitch... Again and again. Deep down, she could feel the frightening feeling crawling up her spine. Something was coming her way.

“Coronis…” The father sighed.

“Yes, Father,” She looked at him, who looked tired. His eyes were shrinking into his skull. The dark circles were reaching far below his cheekbones. The wrinkles looked deeper and the skin looked rough, dead of any moisture. Her heart squeezed inside her chest. He looked like a dead man walking around.

It was the first time she noticed him up so closely.

“I don't know what happened to Martha… I'm scared for her,” he let out another sigh. “We have been together for so long. I was only eighteen and she was sixteen. Since then, we have never separated our paths. We knew how things were ruling over here. None of our parents were nice to us. It was bad, really bad. When both of our parents passed away, we cried tears of happiness. We knew in this world, only we both could be nice to each other and give all the love we could… It was never enough. I never gave her enough love. I was always on foot, going around, surviving and trying to bring some food home. It was all worth it though. Whenever I came back home, she would let out a sigh of relief and look at me, head to toe, to see if I was wounded or not. Whenever she would find even a tiny little scratch, she would cry and treat it with full care.”

Draco was looking up at the dull sky, eyes holding all the stars, that the sky couldn't hold, for his wife who was waiting back at home for her two gems to come back, safe and sound. He continued, “For her whole life, she just focused on keeping us safe. You know when she was pregnant with you, she would stitch these little gowns and bows for you… I always used to ask how she was so sure that it was going to be a girl. You know what she would say?” she shook her head and he chuckled, “she would say with a blushy face that she is sure about a baby girl because she feels less stressed as if the baby in her belly was taking half of her worries. She started to Iive happier and would talk to her swell all the time about everything.” his eyes filled with tears at the far memory. “Then you were born. So calm and collected. As if you were an old lady trapped in an infant's body. You would not cry but sit there, looking tiny and pretty and just look at your mother. You brought her happiness no one ever did. Not me, not Onyx, not Circe. For some reason, you were all she ever wanted to have with me. Not that she didn't love the other two… you were just a part of her that she couldn't keep her mind away from. Someone special you could say.”

Coronis didn't know how to say anything. Her senses were filled with emotions that she couldn't quite put a finger on. She was aware of her family, and how much they were different from others. They never fought. When she saw others beating their wives to death, her father kissed his wife's pain away and told her how much he loved her and that everything will be alright.

“Seeing her so tense reminds me of days when we used to live with the fear of your grandparents attacking us. But only worse.” He said. “I hope she feels better soon.” Draco stood up, cleaning his clothes. “Stay here, I'll be back in a second.” he gestured his pinky finger and jogged deeper into the woods.

Coronis sighed and stood up herself and started folding the sheet and packing the stuff back. Soon, she heard the fluttering of a bird closer and then right above her. She looked up and saw a distressed crow above her. She gasped and tried to fling it away. “Coro! No! What happened?!” she hissed. The crow clawed her hair and turned her head in one direction. She opened her eyes and her jaw dropped. A scream bubbled in her throat but never escaped.

There stood a man much closer yet still far away. She could tell who he was. This time, his face was covered but his chest was bare… Drenched in blood. The sweat started trickling down her face, and the crow sat on her shoulder. Her chest rose up and down, trying to take in enough oxygen to at least make her stay awake and not faint. He looked like a monster standing there between the thick mist around him. The lantern in his hand made him look bloodthirsty. Though, he looked like he had just drunk up a whole human. This made her think about her father in an instant. Was he okay? Who's blood is on his chest?

She looked around and saw about five more pairs of eyes looking directly into her soul. The panic started to bubble up. She rubbed her eyes to see him clearer but the moment she opened her eyes, he was gone, as if he was never there. But she knew he was. She knew he was there to see her and would follow her along.

“Coronis,” she flinched violently and turned around. A sigh of relief escaped her seeing her father alive in front of her eyes. “What happened? Why are you looking like you are about to pass out.” He held her against his chest and patted her head. Coro flew and sat on Draco’s shoulder.

Coronis took a deep breath and closed her eyes, listening to her father's panicked heartbeat that slowly calmed her. “I got scared.”

“Of what?” he carefully asked.

“Just that you took some time to come back,” she whispered and hugged her father tighter.

Draco kissed her head, “I'm back, okay? C’mon, let's go before it is even later. And why is Coro here?”

“Nothing, he just flew and came to us.”

…

The father and daughter knocked at their house’s door. Not even a breath later, Martha opened it with a huge smile and welcomed them in.

“Ah, I was getting worried about you two,” Martha said. “I couldn't even close my eyes.”

Draco smiled and hugged her tightly and pecked her lips. “We took a break in the forest. It was a long walk… I can feel my feet falling off.”

Martha chucked, “Hm, I knew it. So, I have prepared some warm water for you to soak your feet in.” She quickly bought two buckets with her and placed them in front of two chairs. “Here, sit.”

Coronis let out a sigh as her cold and tired feet touched the warm water. The burden of the day washed out and her brain started to shut down. She had no more energy to think or process the night. It had taken a heavy toll on her mental and physical health.

The image of his blood-blanketed chest spiraled in her mind, making her shiver. In the deepest of the forests, he was following her with silent steps. She did not see him again after that. But this time she realized how much he was prowling her without her knowledge and it was enough to make her awake in alertness.

“I would say we should make Circe sleep in your room from now on,” Coronis spoke in a low voice. “I don't feel comfortable sleeping with her anymore… I'm getting older and,” she cleared her throat, “I have my own needs to take care of.”

As awkward as she made it sound, Martha understood why she said that. However, Draco felt concerned. Seeing that their daughter is now an adult and so ready to get married. He didn't voice his thoughts but kept them in his mind.

“Of course, sweetheart… We understand,” Martha said. “Would you like to have something before going to sleep?”

How lucky could she feel thinking about the chances of Circe sleeping with her parents the night he gifted that awful locket?

…

The morning was silently chaotic. The whispers, people running around, gasps. Coronis sighed, knowing exclusively well what was happening.

“What was the number?” she asked as she stepped out of her slot and paddled towards the kitchenette.

“Two hundred sixty-seven,” Onyx reminded. “But in my opinion… You should start another set of counting.”

She stopped and turned around to look at her brother with a confused look. “Why?”

“Hmm… Maybe a new tendency of assassinating the lord's men has begun. If you want to, see it for yourself… I would not propose it though but it would be three if we count the one who captured Circe. It's not a sight to see…” he saw her running outside and shook his head. He knew it was something Coronis didn't need to see. It was horrible yet not surprising.

Coronis regretted it in an instant. She shouldn't have left her shack. The scene was horrible. Gut-wrenching. One of the men was hung on the hook, his chest ripped apart, his eyes ripped out– leaving a bloody trail on his cheeks. For so long, she had only seen people with large gashes, naked, hung on the hook. In the worst scenario, a headless body with their heads hung around. It always looked like an easy way to go. Breathing life was torturous. But death came with just a few gashes and a quick snap of a sword. Later the body was mutilated but the death couldn't feel anything.

This… This was horrendous. The nails of the man were covered in fresh blood which was still not dried yet and his arms had scratches. He looked like he went through hell before he died. Unlike others, he played with hell himself.

Was it the worst anyone could do? No.

The switches in her mind snapped and lurked back in time. Last night. He was standing there covered in blood, eyes looking shallower and colder. Was he there to kill this man? What was the purpose of him to be there at all?

Something in Coronis’s mind knocked that he was behind this unfortunate. Even though any man of the Lord did not deserve any mercy, considering this man has undoubtedly beheaded many. But the cruelty he has been through shone through his limp body.

It's all his deed.

The neigh of the horse made her flinch and look in its direction. A big blunder. His piercing gaze was looking deep into hers. He had two more men on his side. One of them seemed like he was talking to him, telling him about stuff. He patted his back and nodded.

“Coronis, come back inside,” Onyx called her back, seeing how she was almost hyperventilating. She didn't even feel it. “I warned you. But my mistake is telling you to see it yourself. Now, calm down, okay? It’s alright. Everything is okay. I’m here. You don’t need to worry.”

Brothers, if good, are the biggest blessings. Coronis always felt protected and easy whenever Onyx was around. She remembered when they were little, he would always be around her. Whenever they went to the market, he would hold her hand and never let it go. And when the patrolmen and guards passed by, he would cover her eyes and hug her, whispering that everything is okay and that he would never let anyone touch any hair of hers let alone her body. He was like a human shield for her and still is.

“I’m fine, I just… I feel tired,” she whispered against his chest as he hugged her.

Onyx rested his palm on her forehead, “Coronis, you are burning. You must have caught a fever after travelling for so long. Go into your room… I'll come to you in a moment.”

Coronis followed his command like a little puppy. She slipped into her blanket and lay down, closing her eyes. She tried to shut down her brain before the anxiety rushed in. But it failed terribly.

Things have taken a big turn. It was only going downhill and she was dragging others with her, too. She didn't know why that guard was hung over there but she was worried about her family and Nori.

“There, there, little girl,” Onyx came in with a bowl full of soup and some bread. “You eat this first. I'm right here. I don't have to go to work today.”

“Where is mom?” she asked.

“She had some errands to run. She is at the market. Won't be long,” he said as he dipped a piece of bread in soup and fed her. “What happened? And don't even think of lying… I can see right through you.” He waited for her to finish and speak.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Coronis. Nothing is not the answer I want,” he said authoritatively.

Coronis sighed and tears pricked in her eyes. The burden was whacking against her chest, trying to escape and scream freely. She had no clue about how to stop all of this mess and save everyone she loved. It did not seem like a good idea to bare her feelings in front of her brother who had just returned from only he knows what misery.

“Everything is falling apart. When I think that I might be getting better or that everyone around me is getting better, it all goes down and crushes into dust. All the hopes and expectations fall apart and hurt. I'm bringing down everyone along with me,” she cried. “I feel like this is going to end very badly.” She looked into his eyes. “I do not want to lose any one of you.”

Onyx sadly chuckled and threaded his fingers through her hair. “It is going to end badly one way or another… So why not keep us aside for once and think about what makes you happy?” He smiled and hugged her. “We all are built to go away at one point. So just enjoy what makes you happy for these moments and see what happens…”

Maybe for once, she needed to break the ties.

…

A light hand caressing Coronis's head and a cold handkerchief on her forehead woke her up. Her eyes slowly blinked, trying to focus.

“Ah, did I wake you up?” a soft familiar voice spoke.

“Nori?” Coronis whispered.

“Hmm, yeah?” she asked.

Coronis looked at her and saw her sitting beside her, looking pretty as always in her black gown. She was stroking her hair, making her head feel better. “What are you doing here?”

“I met Martha in the market. She said she was going to be late as her work was still stuck… Something about the aunt that passed away. So she sent me here to hand over some stuff that was needed. Then Onyx told me you had a fever. He needed to be somewhere so I offered to stay with you,” she laid next to her and hugged her side.

“Circe?” Coronis asked.

“She went with Draco who came a few moments ago. They went to the meadows,” Nori tucked away Coronis's hair behind her ear.

“So we are alone here?” she asked.

“Mhm,” she smiled.

Nori felt like the home Coronis craved. Her sympathetic eyes and delicate face brought euphoria to her footsteps. It was the vulnerability that was fogging her mind again.

Being with Nori was what made her genuinely happy. Love or lust… She didn't know what it was but whatever it was, it was addicting. She felt like the weed that Coronis needed to smoke.

Nori… was all she felt.

“Your fever is down now…” Nori started. “ I heard that you travelled for a long time yesterday. You were already tired when you left my place,” she blushed thinking about the things they did. “I think that is why you got a fever.”

Coronis listened to her talk, “I want to be happy,” she said, keeping all of her shame aside.

Nori looked at her, “hm?”

“I want to feel happy,” she said again. “Can you make me happy? Please me? Just me and nothing in return? Would that be too selfish?”

That's what made her happy. The feeling of her hands and mouth on her. For Coronis, there were lesser feelings but the itch for physical affection was overpowering. Her needy wants were what she wanted to satisfy. As much as she felt horrible for using Nori for her needs, she had started to feel some attraction, too. Every day, she found herself drifting towards her with a need to look at her and feel her against her fingertips.

This was the only time she let go of herself and became desperate for herself.

Nori bit her lower lip shyly. “You don't have to please me in return. I love pleasing you and the feeling of you near me. That's all I want.”

Coronis turned to her side and held Nori's face. She slowly pecked her, “Then please, help me feel happy,” and whispered.

Nori kissed her passionately. Their tongues tangled together. Coronis could feel herself getting embarrassingly wet for Nori. “Please, Nori, I can't take it anymore.”

Nori crawled down and removed the blanket from her and raised the skirt of her gown. In no time, she was bare in front of her eyes.

She kissed her ankle and slowly made her way up while licking and kissing every inch of her. She kissed her inner thigh and blew hot breath on her dripping core, making her shiver and giggle dumbly.

They looked like a lovesick couple.

She could see how Coronis was dripping wet for her. Her cunt was begging for attention and so she got. Nori dipped her head between her legs and licked a long strip, capturing her clit between her lips and sucking on it.

“Fuckk,” Coronis moaned. She could feel the vibration of Nori humming on her cunt. Her fingers grabbed her hair and pushed her face harder onto her cunt. “So good for me!”

Nori pushed her two fingers into her cunt and curled them, hitting her G-spot perfectly. Coronis's back arched and her mouth fell open in a silent scream. Nori quickened her pace and fucked her with her fingers. She licked and sucked on her clit until she could feel Coronis cum. Her legs shook and closed around her head as she came.

Nori sat up and looked into Coronis’s eyes and licked her fingers clean. She smiled, “you always taste so sweet.”

Coronis chuckled. “Thank you so much,” she said after catching her breath. She sat up and fixed her clothes. “Thank you for understanding me and helping me… I can't say something out loud but you get me through so much.”

“I said it yesterday… I’ll say it again. You don't have to tell me anything. I'm just glad that we can be together here and just… Exist,” Nori smiled. But before this exchange could proceed to something schmaltzy, she spoke up again. “I have to go to the market nearby. Will you join me?”

…

As Nori was pulling Coronis with her through the crowd of the market, Coronis got lost in her thoughts.

Her mind wandered back to the morning. When she saw him covered in blood, it was around midnight. And when she saw that man hanging on the hook, it was late in the morning. It had a difference of almost two-quarters (basically, almost twelve hours) of a full day and night when she saw him and then the man on the hook.

He was covered in blood at night but the man that she saw had fresh blood dripping down his body. It looked stiff. And he was there, clean in his attire. Not a spec of blood.

The man was not killed at night. He did not kill him. As far as she could think.

Then who did? A guard or patrolman, for sure. But why?

Was he out there at night hunting for wild animals? Or was there something else he was doing? Why did it feel like it had to do something with her?

She felt like she was making everything about herself at this point. Nothing was adding up. It was all a big mess. She could not wrap her head around anything that was going on. What exactly was this?

“Coronis,” Nori shook her out of her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

“Hm?” she looked around and then back at her. “Oh yeah! I am fine, yeah.”

Nori felt strange. She could see the gears turning around in Coronis’s mind. “Can you do me a favour?”

“Yeah, of course,” Coronis said.

“I'll get the meat. Can you get the fruits from Eli's?” she sweetly asked.

“Okay,” she took the money and walked towards the Eli’s. She checked through the fruits and got the best one she could find and paid the price.

On her way back, she was met with a familiar scent that made her shiver out of her boots. She looked to her right and saw a young girl, around her age, preparing some redolent.

Coronis stepped into the shop and looked around and saw many glass bottles containing pretty coloured liquid. Each of them was labelled as different redolent. Some were floral and some were labelled as cigars. An odd choice of scent but she couldn't make a remark on it.

“What would you like?” the girl asked as she looked at the newcomer.

Coronis looked at the bottle that the girl was preparing. Its scent was almost making her suffocate yet it was pleasant to sniff. She had only sniffed it once. It had a delightful scent of woody and musky redolent.

“How much for that?” she pointed at the bottle.

The girl's eyes widened. “You can not buy that,” she said.

“Why not?”

“It's for the Lord. You know, no one can use what he exploits,” Coronis’s ears started to ring. She got out of the shop and quickly walked in Nori’s direction.

No no no, this can't be it, she thought. This can not happen. This is not real. This is not fucking real. Her hands and pupils shook in dread after the realization hit her in her guts.

Her world shattered in front of her eyes after hearing just a few words. Out of everyone, him. How unlucky was she that she was thrown into this situation? She thought she was playing with the devil but it was the Lord himself.

The sweat trickled down her face as her colour went pale. Her lips felt chapped and her throat went dry. It was forbidden. Everything that she was committing was forbidden. This could no longer happen.

Her brain was empty of thoughts and only those firey gaze remained stuck.

“Coronis!” Nori caught Coronis by her arm. “What happened? Why are you sweating like that? Did something happen? Talk to me!” she started to panic after seeing how Coronis was hyperventilating.

Coronis shoved the fruits into Nori's hands and pulled away. She looked at Nori as if she was a ghost. Her steps moved away from Nori as she tried to get a grip on Coronis. But she whimpered and her tears rolled down her cheeks. She vigorously shook her head and gestured to her (Nori) to stop wherever she was.

“Coronis, why are you doing this?” Nori felt hurt seeing the woman she loved running away from her like this. Her heart felt heavier and on the edge of bursting.

She felt sympathetic to Coronis as she saw how her face drained out of blood and looked like a phantom. Her body shook like a leaf and sweat soaked her face like water.

Poor girl must have seen something awful to make her look like this. Coronis was stronger than any woman Nori had ever seen. She always carried herself with a tough demeanour, scaring people away. And now, seeing her crumble in front of her eyes, broke her heart. She wanted to hold her and tell her that everything was fine.

“We can’t do this anymore! We are done!”

.....

Sanaa's note:

I hope you guys are doing fine! I love interacting with you all, it makes me feel like you guys actually care for my blog. It makes me feel a little important, not gonna lie. So thank you so much. I hope you will leave some feedback for this chapter as well😊

The behaviour of all the characters is visualized.

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes @chimmisbae

@darkuni63 @mageprincess7 @whipwhoops @ackercute @ane102 @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @unhingedgf @jungkooks21 @namjoonscrabjuice @yluv-damara-13 @jjkreblog @lavenderymoons @passionandsuga @posionapple24 @blueberry711 @shawtylilsalty @gukiebaby

Have a nice day/night💓

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lily-radiance · 12 days

Text

Random fic headcanons and ideas:

TWD season two Daryl Dixon with an S/O who's in trouble

Both loners

MC is not from Georgia

Early 20s MC dating mid-30s Daryl

She knows how to shoot archery bows but not crossbows

Touch-starved

Andrea considers MC like another younger sibling

Everyone advises Daryl not to go for you and vice versa

When Rick, Hershel, and Glenn go to the bar, MC accompanies them. Daryl only goes when Lori tells him that you are in danger.

Carol gives him advice

Andrea and Lori warn him if he breaks your heart, he's a dead man.

RE4 Leon with a high school best friend who became an Umbrella Scientist.

MC was initially training for the force with Leon but dropped out to find another passion

She wants to help people but gets pulled into Umbrella’s dark research

Leon caught a glimpse of her at the end of RE2 but couldn't be sure if it was her.

Ashley doesn't trust MC, but Leon ignores it

Both have combat experience and have undergone physical conditioning

MC does not have Las Plagas

Krauser spars with MC, causing Leon to jump in.

Krauser asks Leon to choose between you and Ashley.

IDK if Leon would be sweet here or a Yandere.

Arkham Movie Trilogy Jonathan Crane, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy x Psychiatrist reader

This story is currently in progress!!!

Reader works at Arkham Asylum

Friends with Bruce Wayne

Knows about his alter ego and occasionally helps him solve cases

Reader believes Bruce should do more with his money to benefit Gotham

Combines Heath Ledger’s Joker with Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn

The reader was in the same major as Harley in college, and the two dated briefly

Harley constantly teases the reader when she catches wind of a new crush

You try to ignore her, but eventually can't as she warns you that the doctor is deadlier than he lets on

You brush it off, too fond of your coworker to accept the notion that he can hurt you

Bruce doesn't like your new counterpart, picking up a destructive energy that screams guilty

In defiance, you decide to bring your beaux to one of many parties and get on your friend’s last nerve.

A kiss is shared in front of the crowd, some murmuring complaints while others smile. You wish to stay in Jonathan’s arms, but the moment is interrupted as Bruce pulls you aside

Naturally, two upper-class socialites fighting in front of an audience calls for bad publicity, but not on your part

“If you keep this up, you'll become a sewer rat criminal just like the rest!”

Luckily, you decided to wear a few rings to accentuate your outfit. Not only do you look stunning, but you reel back and land a brutal slap on his cheek. Yet that doesn't hurt as much as your following words.

“How dare you, Bruce. How dare you scrutinize what you can never understand. Thomas and Martha would be ashamed of you, and you, of all people, know they were difficult to rattle. Next time you need anything, ask someone who gives a shit.”

Your friend has to watch in shock as you exit the home, arm linked with a man he despises. Even in disagreeable situations, you manage to exhibit grace and elegance. It's the beginning of a new era and the opportunity to forget the complex life of the wealthy.

“Is your hand alright, (Y/N)? Better yet, are you okay?”

Never underestimate a psychiatrist to get into your head. He walks you to the car, watching your lips tremble in the darkness. You meet his stare, and one thought crosses your mind: kissing him sounds lovely. The doctor is efficient at picking up social cues, leaning down to meet your lips, and extinguishing the frigid temperature.

“As long as I'm with you, Jonathan. I can do anything with you by my side, no matter the risks.”

I want to make the reader an anti-hero vigilante with the “Grim Reaper” theme. Supernatural powers in Batman don't really occur so I will brainstorm. Most villains are the work of genetic experiments gone wrong so maybe I'll work with that?

JD(Heathers 1989) dating the reader

You are friends with Veronica and the despicable Heathers

Instead of going along with their charades, you often argue and challenge Heather Chandler

She constantly threatens your social standing but knows that the campus would easily choose you over her.

Purple color coded

JD can't help but admire your tenacity as you begrudgingly follow Veronica to the table, attempting to stop the girl from doing Heather’s bidding.

When you walk over, he seems uninterested in the girl speaking to him, instead transfixed on your disinterested attitude. Unknowingly, you lick your lips, tasting lip gloss and wiping some glitter away. When you lock eyes, you swear your heart stops beating, drawn to his carefree attitude.

Veronica says a few words to you, trying to convince you to let her administer the lunch poll

As she talks, you playfully roll your eyes, causing the delinquent to smirk in your direction. He hides a chuckle from breaking out, finding your careless joking funny given the circumstances. When Veronica walks off, it allows you to sit across from the newcomer, albeit a little too eagerly.

“Mind if I ask for a smoke? I'm dying from boredom.”

“Sure, I could never say no to a girl like you. I’m guessing you’ve been trying to break from those devils all day.”

He lights your cigarette as you take it between your teeth, enjoying the visual more than he lets on.

“It's all thanks to you, my knight in obsidian armor.”

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krikeymate · 1 year

Note

Now we need something where they're all gathered together for a we survived party or something and its a bad day for Tara and she tries to hide it by kinda avoiding everyone. When Sam corners her and asks if she's okay Tara plays it off. Sam lets it slide cause she's trying not to be so overbearing. So Sidney decides to try cause she knows its a lie. Then Tara says something along the lines of 'but you're Sam's support system' to her so Sidney drags her to Gale and Kirby.

Tara's been quiet and tired a lot these days. Sam's worried, but she's trying not to be overbearing and she knows how exhausting therapy can be, so she tries to quietly support her sister in whatever way she can. Without constantly digging for more information. She's constantly on the lookout for that sigh and the look Tara gets when she's getting frustrated. She's been getting the others involved in Operation cheer-up-Tara, but she always manages to slip out of their plans, or to escape them entirely. Sam's beginning to think that she just doesn't want to spend time with her specifically... except she's usually fine when it's the two of them. Even Gale's patented snark flies over Tara's head these days, and that's what really makes Sam think something might be seriously wrong. Sniping with Gale quickly became one of Sam's favourite activities, and she knows her sister loves it too. So to pass that up... Sam's worried.

Sidney's having a weekend get-together, she's invited everyone, even Danny. Danny, however, can't make it, stuck with a work commitment he can't get out of. And the twins aren't even in the country, off with their mom visiting distant relatives up in Canada. Sam's hoping the weekend will be good for Tara, being around their sort-of-family, and she's looking forward to seeing Sidney again. Even if she's disappointed the twins, Martha, and Danny can't make it.

Sidney's dog, Riley, latches onto Tara pretty much the moment they sit down, and just doesn't leave her alone. If Sidney didn't already know something was up with Tara from her conversations with Sam, this would have given it away. Riley lays their head in Tara's lap, and nudges her occasionally. Whenever she gets up, Riley follows, staying behind her and yipping every time someone comes near.

"Does your dog like children", Sam jokes, watching her sister smile, relaxed for once, as she pets the dog nuzzling into her lap. "Yes," Sidney replies, "Riley likes kids. But he's not playing right now, he's working." Seeing Sam's visible confusion, Sidney continues. "He's a service dog, trained for helping those with PTSD." Sam's eyes widen as understanding kicks in, a frown forming as sadness kicks in. "He's very sensitive to moods," Sidney says, patting Sam on the arm, "sometimes he knows before I do when I'm feeling bad."

"I don't know how to help her," Sam confesses, "she won't talk to me... or anyone. She's in therapy, but I don't know whether it's helping her or making it worse." Sam tells her that everyone has tried to get her to open up, to no avail. Sidney says she hasn't tried yet, she'll give it a shot at some point over the weekend.

Sidney gets a chance sooner than she thought. Later that evening, Tara retires to the spare room provided for her and Sam early, Riley on her heels. She watches her stall in the doorway, unsure whether she's allowed to take the dog with her, before Mark gives her a nudge and lets her know it's ok.

Sidney gives her 15 minutes before she leaves the others watching the movie, and follows after her. Tara takes a minute to respond to her knock on the door, but when she enters, she can see why. Tara's been crying and Riley's on the bed, clearly providing comfort. She pushes for Tara to talk, "we're all worried for you," she says. That seems to break something in the girl, because she starts crying again and apologising. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make anyone worry, it's fine, I'm fine, really-" Sidney takes her into her arms and hushes her as if she were her own.

She tells her her own story, of how she dealt - or didn't deal - with what happened, how she hid away from the world, alone. By the time Sidney's finished, Tara reveals her own secrets. Sidney's heart breaks as Tara explains she didn't want to take away focus from Sam, that she knows how much Sam has sacrificed for her and she didn't want them all to be just another thing she took from her. Sidney reassures her, reminds her that no one is taking anyone from anything, that they're all family and we're all here for each other, that it would hurt Sam deeply to know that Tara is hurting herself for her sake.

"Please don't tell Sam." "You know I can't do that kiddo."

Tara spends the rest of the weekend bounced around between Sidney, Mark, Gale, and Kirby. Sam gets her own session with Riley as being kept from her sister makes her anxious. The four of them don't explain to Sam what's happening, trusting that Tara will do so herself once they get back to New York. And she does. Sam holds her tight and makes her promise to never hide anything from her ever again, no matter how much you think it will hurt me.

#/mp #ask box #Scream #Sam Carpenter #Tara Carpenter #Sidney Prescott #family dynamics tag #my writing tag #-after 6 #topic: trauma #BTW Sam & Tara play 'Gale Weathers' whereby they pretend to be her so the other one can make up creative retorts and insults #Tara does a mean Gale Weathers act. Gale walked in on them once and had a lot to say about Sam's terrible impression.#~ riley is a ptsd service dog and the bestest boy ~

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hollowsart · 2 years

Note

I hope it's not too much to ask that I need more of Martha and Curt loving one another despite his change.

I'm not even Into Spiderman that much but I absolutely Love the trope of someone finding that the love of their life has become a 'monster' and still loving and caring for them regardless.

Can you imagine if he still hid in the sewers or drainage systems, or her finding and realizing that it's Him after he's been missing for weeks or months, presumed dead?

I don’t have any real defined design for the two (outside of Curt’s axolotl form), unfortunately. however, the thought of this has been stuck in my head for awhile as an alternative version (just.. better text):

[This got SO long I am SO SORRY, but further additions under the cut]:

Martha is incredibly patient and supportive of Curt who struggles sometimes to express his more deeper and personal feelings and problems. But he’s doing his best to try and be more open to her so she can do what she can to try and help him. She married him for a reason and she definitely loves him and wants to help him. She also won’t hesitate to berate him softly for his stupid actions of turning himself into a massive mutant axolotl, accident or not, she really just wants him to be open with her so she can help however she can.

I like the idea she maybe made the prosthetic arm for him as one way to help him deal with the loss of his arm. After the whole axolotl incident, though, I think she’d take it a revise it. Work to help upgrade it to one of those more advanced types of prosthesis that allows for a form of sensing touch by tapping into the nerves and all. She’s very smart and capable of working on a lot of the machinery that is used in the Connors lab.

Honestly, from what I’ve heard about phantom pains and all, I can imagine the mental torment it would have on someone. Wanting to end that pain and have your missing limb back.. understandable.

Martha would definitely seek out some more therapy for him. Physical, too, so he can have an easier time going about his life.

..Imagining him having a couple relapses of transforming, though, as the dna injections are still in his system and haven’t yet been fully flushed out.. That could provide some interesting angst potential tho.

The Hurt/Comfort kind.

..Gosh she’d be so brave and patient. Sitting with him to keep him company. Staying with him because she knows she can’t force him to come back to the lab as she doesn’t have any ability to do that. Stays with him wherever he had run off to.. Even going so far as to sleeping there to keep him company, not being able to handle the thought of leaving him all alone.

She knows he wouldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s just scared.

#//long post #martha connors #curt connors #curtis connors #the lizard

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creativepawsworld · 1 year

Text

Silence - Chapter 12

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x Original Character

Summary = The police are after Thomas Shelby. Ana takes John's suit to his house, the pair having another meaningful conversation.

Warnings = Language, Gang Activity, Guns, Mentions of Sex, Anger issues

Word Count = 3268

Note = Thank you all so much for the comment's reactions and reblogs, it really makes my day that you love this story as much as I enjoy writing it.

For the first time since breaking my foot, I managed to fall and stay asleep last night and it was a good sleep, so amazingly good. I woke up feeling refreshed, ready for the day instead of the usual groggy and irritable version of myself, I had been experiencing lately.

There was no sign of James when I got up. He probably went straight to work after staying at Martha’s. It wasn’t unusual for him to stay over at her place, it was unusual that he didn’t call in to say hello though as he passed through here to get to work.

I walked down in the living room, smiling at the discarded white shirt just tossed onto the floor. A stark reminder that last night did in fact happen. Picking up the clothing and throwing it back into the clean laundry pile I made myself some breakfast before heading next door.

Being the only one in the shop meant that everything fell on my shoulders. Not only did I have to do the administration side to the shop, the inventory, general upkeep but I also had to deal with any clients that came through the door needing something altered or fix. It all rested on me for the first time.

Pushing some loose hair out of my face I looked up at the sound of the door opening. Inwardly rolling my eyes praying the people of Small Heath would just go away. I had been on my foot most of the day, my underarms were red and aching from the fiction caused by the wooden crutches. I didn’t know how much more I could take.

“Everything alright in here Ana?” James’s voice laughed looking around the store. I had things everywhere. Literally everywhere. Random swatches of material were laid over the front desk and my sewing machine, samples of the materials we had in store for people to choose from. I had papers, laying in all directions with measurements, dates and names written on them. I was working in chaos.

“Thank God you are here. Close the door, lock it and keep everyone out” I sigh throwing myself back into the god-awful wooden chair. I was absolutely exhausted. First time having full control of the tailor shop and I managed to do it on a broken foot, it would be a piece of cake in the future with two feet.

“It’s after 5pm we are closed anyway” James laughed shaking his head. He started grabbing the random swatches on fabric putting them into the swatch's basket. “Busy day?” He asked walking around tidying up after me.

“It was the worst day ever. People needing trousers and dresses mended, some needed them altered within an hour. Others wanted to request a new outfit for a family wedding in five days.”

“You know you didn’t have to alter anything right then and there, right?” James asked, putting the work baskets in the far-right corner.

I smiled thinking back to the days when James worked here. We never got anything done, it was so bad, our parents had to separate us. My father taking James under his wing, my mother, me. All too soon though my brother wanted independence. He wanted away from the shop and away from our parents. It was then he got himself mixed up in gambling and the Shelby brothers.

“I know but I just, didn’t want to let anyone down” I sighed rubbing feeling back into my fingers. I lost count how many times I had stuck myself with the needle trying to hurry things along.

“Ana, that’s fine when you are at yourself, not when you have one foot” James scolded handing me the pieces of paper with scribbles on it. “What does half of this even say? That is not how father writes out a measurement sheet” He laughed shaking his head at me.

“It’s how I write it. Easier and saves time” I chuckled snapping the sheets from him using the desk to tap the loose pages together and placing them on my desk.

“If you say so” James shrugged walking around the shop, stopping when he came to a suit. “This is a fine suit Ana, Shelby not been around to collect it yet?” He asked lifting the pant leg and inspecting it.

“Nope, God only knows why. It’s not like the Shelby’s to be late” I sigh with a smile. My mind drifting to my favourite Shelby brother, nibbling on my bottom lip.

“Well with everything going on. I’d say they have their hands full” James nodded leaving the suit alone and walking over to me. “You best hope he comes tonight; father is coming home, and you know he won’t be happy with the suit still here”

“I thought they were coming home tomorrow night?”

“No it’s definitely tonight. Martha is away to some show with a few friends from work. I remember the date clearly as I was going to the Garrison with a few mates”

“Come on” I sighed rubbing my temples with my fingers before standing to my feet, grabbing a nearby empty basket. “Help me”

“Help you what?” James asked confused at my sudden panic like state.

“Grab that dress and put it in the basket with the suit.”

“What are you going to do? Deliver it?” He asked with a laugh but seeing me nod my head, his face fell. “How exactly are you going to carry a basket and two crutches without falling flat on your face Ana, be realistic.”

“I’m not. You’re gonna carry the basket”

“Hell no. I’m not going near the Shelby house are you mad? What if Arthur is there?”

“What if he isn't?” I asked, eyebrows raised. “Please James. Father entrusted me with the running of the shop, I don’t want him coming home and thinking I can’t handle it alone.”

“I’m sure he won’t…”

“James, it’s father. Come on I help you place a stupid bet you can help me deliver a suit” I brought up the incident from a few weeks back when he asked me to go to the betting shop for him. Bringing me into the life of the Shelby’s albeit unintentionally.

“I hate you”

“You love me.” I grin, balancing as best I could while putting my coat on. Taking the crutches once more and hobbling out into the street. “I can’t wait to be free of these”

“Should not of kicked a wall over a Shelby.” James growled dragging his feet behind me.

“Shut up” I tell him with a glare of my own, urging him to hurry up.

Before we even got near the shop James told me that if saw Arthur he would be gone, suit in hand or not. Rolling my eyes at my cowardly elder brother, the streetlights came on, the dark night started to take over. Hopping over the puddles in the street, I noticed a few lights were light in the main house, the betting shop door was no doubt locked now meaning Polly should be at home.

Knocking on the door, I waited for someone to answer the door, my brother was looking over his shoulder every two minutes in case a Shelby brother snuck up on us. I was about to tell him to stop fidgeting when the front door opened, the light shining on both my brother and I. Polly had a smile on her once her eyes landed on me.

“Ana dear, I was thinking just about you.” She grinned, her eyes glancing over to my brother who stood still, a glare on his face as he held the basket in one hand. The other hand casually in his pocket. “James” Polly spoke plainly at him.

“Mrs Gray” James returned, no emotion in his voice.

“Hi Polly, I have John’s suit he was supposed to collect yesterday. I wanted it out of the shop before my father returned.”

“From London, yes Tommy said you had the run of things”

“He did?” I asked with a smile. A blush appearing on my cheeks at the thought of Thomas talking to his family about me.

“Mmm” Polly nodded with a smile of her. Clearly his throat my brother made his presence known, holding the basket up. “Is that the suit then?”

“Indeed” James nodded handing the basket over to Polly. “I’ll see you at home later?” He asked me backing away from the Shelby home towards what he considered safety, even though Arthur was more than likely at the bar now that Thomas brought it for him.

“Yeah” I shouted my shoulder at him, watching him walk backwards before turning at my answer, disappearing around the corner.

“You must be freezing, come in” Polly spoke once my brother gone, like myself she was watching him leave. Carefully making my way into her home she ushered me into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for me and putting on the tea. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately; things have not been easy”

“I heard Ada had her baby. Congratulations”

“Yes, shame his father was taken from her. Haven’t seen her since the birth. Held up in a basement, not good for her or the baby” Polly groaned, shaking her head at the predicament. “Things only got worse when the boys pathetic excuse of a father turned up. Arthur and Tommy have been at one another’s throats.”

“I can come back at a different time Polly. Clearly you have a lot going on”

“No, no you are fine dear. A breath of fresh air in my world of madness.” She smiles, taking the teapot into her hands and pouring the hot liquid into my awaiting cup.

“While I was waiting on John, I finished your dress” I tell her taking a sip of the tea, ensuring I didn’t burn myself on the liquid.

“You did?” She asked, moving John’s suit of the way, hanging it on the door admiring it. “That would have been a nice suit for his wedding, shame he didn’t have it in time” She nodded admiring the work before taking the dress from the basket, holding it up to inspect it. “Ana…” She gasped

“If there is anything you don’t like I can remove it or add to it no problem” I tell her unsure if the gasp was good or bad.

“It's perfect. Oh, Ana you talented little thing” She breathed excitedly his hands running along the lace material at the hips. It was a show stopping piece, to really bring attention to one of the more prominent features of a woman. “Thank you”

“Polly, Polly the police are after our Tommy. They want to take him away” The youngest Shelby brother ran into the room breaking the moment. I felt my eyes widened at his words, what had he done now?

“What? Where is he Finn?” Polly rushed towards the younger brother, dress still in hand as she held his shoulder.

“The barmaid took him away with her. The one Arthur says makes Tommy soft” He shrugged nonchalantly, he was too young to understand what his words had meant, it hadn’t made them hurt any less though.

“Where did they go Finn?”

“I don’t know, her place I think.” The younger brother shrugged, his eyes wondering to me “Hey it’s you. I remember you. What happened your foot? Tommy wouldn’t tell me the other day.”

“Finn, go to your room.” Polly instructed, a worried looked on her face. She was standing, a hand over her mouth, her other holding the dress and ushering the boy out of the room. “Stupid boy, stupid, stupid boy”

A million thoughts ran through my head as the pieces started falling into place for Polly. The only thing I could focus on was he was with that pretty little barmaid. Just him and her, alone in her home. I swallowed back some sick, needing to get out of this house, I got up attracting Polly’s attention.

“Where are you going?”

“Home” I answered her sharply. The stupid tears I swore I’d never cry threatening to spill. How many more times was I going to allow a man like Thomas Shelby make a complete and utter fool out of me before I realised, I needed to move on, like Martha and Polly said.

“Why are you upset?” She asked once I had my back to her. Immediately she reached forward taking my wrist through the crutch to stop me moving, using it to turn me to look at her. Her hawk like eyes scanning over my face, looking down my body before back up to my face. “You slept with him?”

“No”

“But you allowed him to touch you” She pressed. Hearing the words leave her mouth had the tears falling freely from my eyes, I felt so dirty. So stupid. “Oh, my dear, Ana”

“Why is he doing this Polly?”

“He is a man; they only think with their cocks” Polly almost growled holding me against her chest. “I warned him. I told him not to lead you on, but he doesn’t listen. Stupid, stupid boy”

“I think I’m the stupid one”

“No Ana, no you’re not. He is an idiot for not seeing what he hasn’t in front of him”

“I thought he liked me. I was ready to give, you know 'it' to him last night, but he stopped me” I tell her, my voice muffled in her shoulder. “He’s such a pig”

“He is” Polly whispered in my ear before pulling back slightly. “Wait he stopped you from having sex with him?” She asked confused. I simply nodded my head at her question, Polly couldn’t help the look of surprise on her face.

Shaking whatever was going through her mind off, she held me at arm's length, hands on my shoulders, gripping them tightly. “You promise me now, you are done with him. He is not good for you Ana, sweet girl like you deserves a man who would give her the world”

"I have no doubt it is him, Ana. You bring out a side of him that only existed before the war, I thought that part of him died in France”

“So, there is still a chance?”

“No” She answered sharply, conflicting her words. “There is no doubt in my mind Thomas would give you the world. But you are too pure for this world, his world.”

“I can be who Thomas wants me to be”

“You most certainly will not. You do not change yourself for a man Ana, don’t do that to yourself” She scolded holding my face in her hand gently yet firmly. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes”

“Good girl”

“Polly the guns are gone, Campbell has them, there after Tom…” A loud booming voice yelled; it was so loud I was surprised the house didn’t shake due to the volume. “Hello dear…” Arthur stopped himself, seeing me in his aunts' arms. John trailing after him.

“John, take Ana home. We have things to discuss when you get back” Polly directed to the younger of the two men. I expected the man to refuse or kick up a fuss, but he didn’t. He simply walked forward, extending a gentle hand forward. “I’ll will call around tomorrow love, before lunch”

“Okay, goodbye” I called allowing John Shelby to escort me from the home and into the cold night once again. The atmosphere was different than it was when I first left for the house, the police whistles were blowing all over, along with shouts as they marched through the streets looking for Thomas Shelby

“You alright?” John asked after a moment

“Yeah, fell for your stupid brother again like a foolish idiot” I tried to laugh off, but it was too soon. “Congratulations on your wedding” I tell him changing the subject. Ever since our chat at the bar I started to feel safe around John, he was nice. Different than his brothers.

“Thanks. My stupid brother didn’t give me much of a choice. Thankfully she isn’t ugly, I can live with that”

“That’s good?” I questioned unsure how to respond to his reply, my response caused him to laugh.

“It is, believe me I have some standards.” He nodded, nudging me softly, a smile on his face. “I was the only sane one available left to marry anyway, Arthur is out of his fucking mind and Tommy is in love so, wouldn’t have been right for him to marry”

“Wouldn’t you have preferred to marry for love?”

“I did marry for love, but she died. I just wanted to marry for convenience for the kids. I’ll grow to love her” He answered plainly. The marriage really was a business deal, one that benefitted both sides.

“I’m so sorry John" I sigh feeling terrible, the man was the same age as me and he had already lost so much. "I know you said you feel like you have a choice when it comes to your family, but it doesn’t seem like you do sometimes”

“I know it looks that why sometimes, but it's not. I am okay with marrying Esme. As for my brothers, I think they should marry for love at least once. So, I had to give me brothers a chance.” He laughed as we reached the door to my home. “Polly is right about one thing, you're pure Ana but you shouldn't stay away. Your what our Tom needs, something to ground him. She just doesn't see it yet"

“Finn says it the barmaid that has his attention, has him going soft.”

“That’s our Arthurs. He doesn’t know much about you, so course he thinks it’s the barmaid that has my brother soft. If he knew about you, he'd know it was you.”

“John, I don’t…I can’t do this. I can’t be waiting around wondering what Thomas has done and whether or not he will be coming home to me. Maybe Polly is right, maybe I should stay away.”

“Are you giving up on my brother?”

“Can’t give up on something you never had”

“Oh, you have him Ana, you just don’t see it. Idiots the both of you” John replied shaking his head walking towards the front door “Thanks for the suit by the way.”

“You’re welcome” I replied waiting for him to leave before breaking down again, my heart breaking. I limped up to my room, a surge of angry pulsating through my veins as I used my crutch to knock things off the top of my drawers. Screaming in frustration as I hit the books and broken porcelain repeatedly with the crutch.

“Ana” A voice yelled but I didn’t care to stop “ANA” the voice got louder walking up behind me catching me as I threw the crutches across the room. The person ‘sshing’ me as they wrapped around me tightly squeezing me, bringing up both to the ground.

“I hate him” I yelled my hands smacking at their hands as they held tightly onto me.

“It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay” James continued to repeat in my ear, rocking me backwards and forwards until I calmed down.

“I hate him, I hate him” I repeated, my breathing slowly returning to normal.

“I know, I hate him to”

“I really hate him” I whispered twisting myself, so I was snuggled tight into his chest, his heart beating erratically in his chest. “I hate that he made me love him. Why, why did I have to fall in love with him?”

“I don’t know Ana; I wish I knew”

Taglist

@shelbyteller @seleneshelby @forgottenpeakywriter @babayaga67 @sweetmilkshakeluminary

#tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #originalcharacter #peaky fucking blinders #peakyblinders #thomas shelby fanfic

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anewnewcrest · 5 months

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From Martha Matthews' Prayer Journal

This is too much. I just can't go on. And I think that every day, and then I drag myself out of bed, because I have no other choice, and struggle and struggle and struggle, and then another day is over, and I go to bed and wake up all the time during the night with Meredith, and then I have to get up to do it all over again.

And of course, I can't let anyone know how I feel. Michael has made it abundantly clear that he doesn't want to hear how depressed I am, because if I am, I should just pray about it and give my cares to the Watcher and then shut up about it. If I go to our pastor, he'll just tell me that women were made to be keepers of the home and that I need to repent for my sinful and selfish nature and die to myself, until I'm nothing but an empty shell. And if I go to the other women at church, they'll just gossip and gossip and gossip about me, and everyone will know, and they'll send over a meal or two with passive-aggressive notes shaming me for being less than them, and then I won't even be able to pretend that I have friends.

At least I'm not pregnant again, even though Meredith is two already. I barely remember all the years where I was constantly expecting another baby or two, it's all a blur, the nausea, the weariness, the sleepless nights... it feels like I was just mindlessly putting a foot in front of the other to get through it, and now I wonder who that person was who did all those things. I'm still so ashamed of that one time I snapped and wanted to leave Michael. He's so good to me! He provides for us! He buys me things when I ask for them, and he stays out of my way when he's not working! What more could I ask for in a husband? I just... I just wasn't in my right mind when I wanted to leave him, and I'm praying that he and the Watcher will forgive me every day. I have to do better as a wife and mother and housekeeper if I ever want them to forgive me.

#matthewsfamily #michael and martha #meredith matthews #a new newcrest #gen 2 #summer 3 #fundie sims #fundie simblr #fundie snark #sims 4 legacy #quiverfull sims

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the-lavender-room · 5 months

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Random blurb

what if: the gene cleanser only partly worked

Ft curt feeling bad bc he can’t help anyone

Spider-Man’s back hit the cold, hard ground of the enclosure. The frigid water drenched his suit, and the cold seeped into his aching bones and muscles. He was tired; felt the strange need to sleep now, but he couldn’t. He needed to hold out for a bit longer. For the gene cleanser to work.

The lizard stomped over to him, snarlingly. Spider-Man crouched low to the ground, ready to leap out of the way of any incoming attacks. It lunged at him with a low, guttural hiss. Spider-Man dodged froward; nearly avoiding its claws; the sudden pain and warm liquid let him know.

The lizard narrowed its yellow eyes. It screeched and shook its head violently. It wrapped it claws around its head and clasped to the ground with labored breaths. Spider-Man crawled closer; slowly. Large, brown eyes stared back at him. “Ss-spi…der…Ma-an?” His voice was slow and raspy and tired.

“Doctor Conners! Are you…with me?” Spider-Man yelped, putting his hands up in front of him. ‘He can talk now, but…’

He flicked his tongue out twice “I…th-think…so…” Conners rose to a crouch; eyes aimed at the ground and tail curled around himself. “I h-hurt you…”

Spider-Man place his on the still-reptilian-man’s shoulders. His scales are cold. ‘He’s still a lizard…’ “It’s fine, don’t need to worry about lil’ old me!” He joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“DAD!”

They both looked up at the small yell. Billy and Eddie were leaning over the railing; eyes big wide. Spider-Man helped the doctor up the wall. He sat still on the railing; rubbing his cold hands together.

Curt Conners reached a hand out to his son, but pulled back when he saw his own monster-ish claw; blood seeped in between the scales. That did not stop Billy for wrapping around him, tightly; tears staining Conners’s shirt. “I’m-I’m just glad you’re okay!”

“I am too…” Conners replied, bending down to fully embrace his son. His eyes burned with tears as he sobbed silently.

Spider-Man stayed for a while, even after Martha Conners arrived. It wasn’t until he heard the distance sound of sirens that he decided it was time to leave. ‘Go home, take a shower, wrap up my injuries, sleep until graduation…’

————————————————————————

It had been a week since the lizard incident, and since Peter and Gwen had been to the lab. Peter had decided not to use the pictures he took that night; not that the media wasn’t all over it the next morning. “Local scientist turns into giant lizard; fights Spider-Man in subway station!”

When they got to the lab; the entire entrance was swarmed with people and cameras. They pushed their way to the doors; where Eddie was there to pull them in.

“Oh, Peter, may I talk to you for a second…Privately.” Doctor Conners asked when he saw him. His voice still sounded a bit…hissy. Peter followed him to his office, though he could see Martha watching him. Intently.

They stood there in the dimly lit office, awkwardly staring at anything but each other. Conners looked at Peter and flicked his tongue out a few times, a bit too close for Peter, and sighed.

“Are…are you Spider-Man?”

“Uh!… what?! No!” He shuddered. “Why would you think I’m Spider-Man?” He asked, trying to sound as little suspicious as possible.

Conners looked away, a bit embarrassed. “You…uh… smell the same.”

“That’s creepy.” Peter remarked, leaning against the wall.

“I know.” Conners flexed his claws a bit. He looked between the sharp, black nails and Peter before asking. “Is your back okay?”

Peter sighed, “I already told you, I’m not Spider-Man!” He headed for the door; helping Gwen with organizing sounded really fun right now. “My back’s fine, my hand’s fine, I’m not hurt. Because I wasn’t in danger!”

“I didn’t mention your hand.”

Peter’s head slumped against the door, ‘I’m NOT getting out of this!’ He turned to look at the lizard man. “What do you want?”

“Do you need help? I… don’t remember much, but- I hurt you. I could’ve killed you…” he squeezed his tail; tears at the corner of his eyes. “…even if it’s medical supplies, please, just let me help you…”

“whoa, hay! I’ll think about the help! But please stop with the crocodile tears, I feel bad when people cry for me.” He placed a hand on the doctor’s shoulder. “Just tell me your also be helping yourself.” The lizard nodded. “Did you tell anyone?”

“Just my wife.”

“Good, good. How is she taking… this anyway?” Peter gestured to Conners’s body. An attempt to lighten the mood a bit.

“Well, better than I thought at least.”

#my writing #tssm #the spectacular spider man #tssm peter parker #tssm curt conners #tssm the lizard #tssm lizard #ficlet #this is bad

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casasupernovas · 2 years

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series 3 of doctor who is all about control. the doctor tries to control and micromanage situations with disastrous results.

he tries to control what happens with the master - locks his travelling abilities between the year one trillion and earth resulting in the master's worming his way into downing street and the killing of the us president and invasion of earth as well as an almost all out war on the cosmos. he tries to control the narrative around the master, controlling how much martha and jack are allowed to know about the master. this is why martha reacts like that when the master brings his battle to her family. although martha and jack got a good idea of the master's nature from utopia, he doesn't tell her how dangerous he is or jack, which is dangerously wrong, saying all they need to know is that he's a timelord because "thats just all [you] need to know." he tries to tell martha not to tell her parents anything, not to go to them to help them. he takes her phone off her when the master intercepts the call. he tries to control what will happen with the family of blood. his way of 'being kind' is to let them die naturally like 'mayflies'. his way of controlling this is to hide as a human and limit john's smith knowledge of his true nature. again. with disastrous results.

he tries to control martha. so much of her actually. he tries to control what she's allowed to know about him, his past, his planet, his companions. he tries to control what she's allowed to ask him by either dismissing, diminishing or being downright rude (see the beginning of the shakespeare code). he even tries to control how she is supposed to feel about him. he tries to control her emotions. tries to stop her crush. this poor dumb alien really thinks if you tell someone to stop having a crush they'll just stop. lol. if only it were that easy. he tries to control how long she's allowed to stay with him. tries to control what she asks him. he tries to control the version of him she is allowed to know, aka creating up a new doctor that isn't the sole survivor and last of his kind. tries to stop her trying to console or empathise (see the end of gridlock). he tries to control what she does in manhattan, leading to that dalek line.

he tries to control himself. which doesn't work - see john smith. tries to control jack and how he should respond to being abandoned - "did i? busy life, moving on." he limits his knowledge of martha. not once does he ask her about her life. he confesses to brannigan in gridlock that he hardly knows her for this very reason. it's not cuz they just met. he damn near controls what she wears because his stipulations with her travel doesn't includes such privileges as rooting around for era appropriate dress, or stopping home for new clothes like some. so she's in the same gear for three different adventures, four episodes straight, not including the end of e1 and beginning of e6, despite travelling to the past twice. he has too much power over martha, which is why the scene where he gives her the tardis key feels so ick to me.

so naturally, when things unravel out of his control because you cannot control everything let alone people, the results are astounding. he tries to control the fate of the master but lucy saxon shoots him dead. he tries to get the master to regenerate but he chooses not to. martha leaves him. captain jack is revealed to be the face of boe, his oldest friend, and someone who told him that despite his understanding to be the last of his kind, that he is not. the doctor was the one to make that final decision on gallifrey. but turns out the whole 'last of the timelords' thing was never a definitive narrative for himself because the master was already lightyears away from gallifrey.

i would have liked to see the tenth doctor have an arc when he accepted that he will never be fully in control but should be wise in what is in his control. like not being so cold to martha and simultaneously using her as a human crash mat. because he can snap at her for 'wasting time on a hug' but place an extraordinarily huge amount of trust in her, with his life, moreso than any other companion to be honest. he can be kinder to jack because despite the anomaly of it all, jack did not choose his fate. and most of all, he can be better to himself. because the tenth doctor tends to cauterize his wounds (literally with fire, see the runaway bride) without allowing them to heal naturally. that's why the shit hurts so much. and a lot of them are self inflicted due to his need to control everything - see the death of the master. it makes sense why he does this. he's burned his own planet.

but as i said.

disastrous consequences.

#doctor who #thoughts #series 3 #martha jones #tenth doctor #10th doctor #captain jack #captain jack harkness #jack harkness #lucy saxon #harold saxon #the runaway bride #analysis #meta

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j-harkness · 2 years

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my god it truly drives me insane how dedicated to the doctor jack is and like the way he is so in love in such a genuine and heartfelt way that he never stayed mad at him for being left behind not even when ten was terrible to him about it

in a lot of ways jack becomes the doctor. by the time Jack meets the doctor again in utopia he's lived lifetimes and, just like the doctor, has left people behind and been left behind

and ohh the way I know he stayed in love that whole time. and he knew that if he truly meant so little to him that he was left behind so easily, then what good would hating him when he gets to see him again do? better to cling to what he can get. it's just the sheer dedication, the willingness to anything to see the doctor again and not hold anything against him not ever

I truly think they r perfect for each other and my personal fanon will always be that ten was not mean to him and they lived happily ever after but

and jack could have been so perfect for him in canon but he also isn't. a lot of problems in both Torchwood and doctor who get solved when the two of them are together because they do actually just work so well together. look at the finales of S3. jack is basically at his beck and call, extremely competent, and knows exactly what to do when the Doctor asks it of him. that is the real life reason jack could never stay a companion. the other sorta related reason is that jack is too much like him. the Doctor needs people like rose, like martha, like Donna. Donna who tells him to save 'just someone' in Pompeii, yells at him to - jack never would have done that! they would have left without a thought. I think jack and the doctor as a companion pairing in canon would be so wholly destructive to one another because jack has no sense of being able to tell the Doctor 'no, you're wrong', because he's just unable to see the doctor as ever being wrong, the doctor shaped his worldviews too much. jack is in some sense became a servant to him without the doctor ever intending for it to happen or even noticing, all because of how badly in love he is, honestly I think worse than rose and Martha ever were because they never let their love blind them of telling the doctor that he was wrong.

the Doctor can't stand to be with him not just because jack is a soldier but because jack is his soldier, and entirely of his own making

#they drive me insane and feral #and i will always rewrite my own personal fanon to where theyre happy and together but #oh the way they so tragically would have destroyed each other in canon. that gets me too #doctor who #jack x doctor #jack x ten #myop

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peach-and-bugs · 2 years

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💚Martha My Love, Martha My Dear - Abby Anderson x Gen!Reader (they/them pronouns)💚

Fanfiction master list

Summary: Abby's always liked animals, dogs especially. But this love turns into something similar to worry around smaller creatures, especially the newborn puppies that y/n works with every day. She loves visiting y/n during her off time, but that worried feeling always sets in. it must be because of the puppies, right?

Warnings: minor mention of blood (dog just gave birth to puppies, but other than a little bit of blood nothing graphic)

Word Count: 2, 898

A/N: hello lovelies! so, I went a little MIA but that's because I'm getting ready to move into my freshman dorm in two weeks and my mental health has to come first. it's been an extremely anxiety-inducing time and writing just can't be a priority right now. so, I'll probably be missing for a little while, but once I've settled in and have the time, I can assure you I'll be back to work! I love writing for you all and it brings me so much joy. but besides that, here's something for Abby! I absolutely adore ms. Abby Anderson, but it didn't really occur to me till recently that I could write for her, yet here we are. anyways, I'll let y'all get to reading and as always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading! 💚

Abby Anderson Tag List:

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-💚-

Abby walked with her team, her hand firmly wrapped ‘round a dog leash connected to the german shepherd mute that had come along for their patrol. She watched as her group began to disperse through the base, disappearing to wash up. Owen stayed beside her and nudged the blond with his elbow.

“Want me to take Pyro back?” he asked, gesturing to the slobbering dog at Abby’s hip. She glanced down at the dog, with his wide grin and panting tongue, and smiled, shaking her head.

“I’ve got him,” Owen arched a brow ans smirked knowingly.

“Need an excuse to see ‘you know who?’” he asked with a burning smugness in his voice. Abby tensed but made no inclination to acknowledge his suggestion. She knew exactly what he ment and hated that he’s caught on, but no way in hell was she going to let on that he was right. The satisfaction would eat into his ego too much.

“As I said, I’ve got it,” it was pretty clear she’d failed to disclose her true motivation and left Owen before he had time to gloat. So what if she was going to see you? She liked your company was all. Was there something wrong with that? Pyro could feel her discouragement and offered comfort by licking Abby’s tightening hand. This pulled her from her spiraling head and a relaxed smile found her lips once more.

The dog at her hip began to wag his tail as they approached his quarters. He knew he was getting a treat upon his arrival and the anticipation was eating at him. Abby hat to tighten her grip again as he began to tug the leash and much to her surprise, he let out an eager bark as they walked into his quarters.

“Pyro! Pipe down!” a familiar voice called from the back of the area, which had both Abby and Pyro turning their heads. The pair stayed put and listened to the muffled rustling from a back room, along with the occasional barks of dogs in their pastures. After a moment more, a familiar face poked out from one of the storage rooms and offered a bright smile. “Abby, hi! Nice of you to visit,” you said, shuffling out of the room with arms full of blankets. You turned around and shut the door with your foot, making a loud clang that had Pyro perking his ears up.

“Hey, can you let him into his pasture? I’ll get him his treat in a bit,” you said as you began backtracking down the hall as though you were in a hurry.

“Everything alright?” the blond asked with a tilt of her head and a mildly anxious smile. You chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah. Martha just decided to give us all a surprise,” your pace quickened and you turned on your heels, heading in the other direction towards some of the smaller dog spaces. Biting her lip as a nervous feeling tickled he stomach, Abby did as she was asked and took Pyro back to his pen, much to his dismay as he seemed to want to go with you instead.

“Don’t worry, buddy. They won’t forget your treat,” she murmured under her breath as she walked past the outdoor kennels with Pyro. Some of the other dogs yipped and barked at the chainlink fence, excited to see someone and hoping to play. Abby offered them each a warm smile till they reached Pyro’s kennel that was shared with his brother. “Alright, be good boys,” Abby chuckled as opened the gate and unhooked Pyro from his harness, letting him run in to tackle his brother with excitement. She shut the gate with a chuckle and ran her fingertips along the chainlink of the door before she headed in the direction you'd disappeared.

Abby wasn’t one to travel very far into your unit of work. You mostly worked with the animals in the stadium, notably the dogs, (obviously) as well as some of the livestock. You were almost in a veterinary position if she thought about it. You helped take care of the animal's needs and health and you were passionate about advocating for them. She smiled thinking about it. You were kind of like her father in that way. He wanted to care for and preserve as much life as he could in such a messed-up world. You did that too.

“Hey, you good?” you interrupted her inner monologue once again as you poked your head out of a small, makeshift kennel. Abby hadn’t even realized how far she’d walked into your space and was quite surprised by the sight before her as she leaned around the corner and over the baby gate, into the room. “Suprise,” you said with a wide grin. You were crouched down by a beautiful white and brown spotted dog who was breathing quite rapidly. The sheets and blankets covering the floor were stained with blood and Abby would have been quite concerned had she not noticed the feeble mewling at the dog's side.

“Martha decided she was ready to be a mama. Didn’t you girl?” you cooed, running your fingertips under the dog's chin. She looked up at you with her dark eyes that had such a human touch to them. She could practically see the trust that the animal had for you.

“You helped her deliver?”Abby asked rather out of the blue. You looked up and nodded with an eager sparkle in your gaze, as though someone else showing interest in your job was some miraculous thing you never would have expected. Your smile practically brightened the room as you answered.

“Yes, I did. Martha’s been showing signs of pre-labor since yesterday afternoon, so I was up with her all night prepping. It’s not often nowadays that I get to help mama’s with their puppies, now that I think about it,” you chuckled under your breath, eyes shifting back down to Martha and her litter of mewling pups.

Abby watched the wiggling balls of white and brown fluff with a knit brow. Logically, she understood that they would be dogs eventually, but right now they looked so small, so strange. They felt like foreign entities of some kind and it made her rather nervous. Her thoughts wandered as you began to coo something unintelligible to one of the squirming creatures and before she knew it, you stood in front of her with one of them in your hands.

“Wanna meet one?” you asked brightly. Abby shook from her mindscape and her eyes locked onto the puppy held securely in your grasp. Its eyes were screwed shut, brows furrowed like it was angry as it whimpered and protested, squishy paws wiggling ever so slightly. She took a step back, about to decline the offer, but you took her hand before she could, giving it a tight squeeze. Abby’s eyes flickered to Martha, anxious that the mother of the crying pup might get upset at her presence. But the mother seemed quite content, given the circumstances. She periodically looked up to you and Abby with her puppy, but for the most part, she attended to the brood squirming at her hip.

When Abby hadn’t been paying attention, you'd let go of her hand to open the baby gate door of the small room. Your hand found her fingers once more and a shiver rushed through her nerves, urging her to step into the tiny space. You coached her to the floor beside you sitting with your legs crossed. Abby stayed tense and unmoving. She didn’t want to risk any wrong move regarding you or Martha, who sat behind your back. The puppy in your hands wiggled as he was moved and Abby froze completely, except for her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips.

“Abby, relax,” you murmured, running your fingertips up and down her open palm. The blond looked up at you and swallowed thickly as you eyed her with curiosity. “What are you afraid of?” you asked her. Your eyes wandered her face, tracing the natural edges and curves that made up her. She tried her best to relax and looked down at the puppy snuggled into your hands.

“He’s so small,” she managed to utter. You only nodded. “And I don’t want to hurt him on accident,” you smiled now and let go of a small laugh. Abby looked up at you with an expression that could best be described as offended.

“I’m sorry,” you said first, biting your bottom lip, your thumb had begun to brush over the puppy's scruff, rhythmically lulling him to sleep in your hand. “But I can’t believe that for one second,” you smiled at her fully.

“Why?” was the only thing the blond could ask. You tilted your head again and shrugged.

“It doesn't seem like you. You aren’t careless,” the puppy made a whimpering noise in his sleep and you both looked down. “And yes, you're strong. But I’ve always thought you were mindful of that,” you finished quietly. Abby didn’t know what to say, but as she watched, you opened her palms, your fingers soft against her calloused skin, and transpired the sleeping pup into her hands. He flinched once, then twice, but his breathing evened out once again and all was well.

“He’s soft,” she managed to say after a moment. The white puppy’s soft claws brushed against her skin as he twitched. He took up only one of her palms, leaving the other free to pet him if she liked.

“He’ll be a big one though,” you murmured, scooting in close beside her.

“How do you figure?”

“He’s got a big daddy and a big grandma,” Abby smiled gently and nodded. “Bot for now he’s one of the smaller ones,” you finished with a sigh.

“Will he be alright?” You nodded, your cheek brushing against Abby's shoulder as you leaned in.

“Yeah, he’ll be good. He’s got a great mom and we can bottle feed if necessary,” Martha let out a shallow sigh and you smiled, turning your attention her way. “Wanna go see some of the bigger babies?” you asked, gingerly taking the puppy from Abby’s hands and returning him to his mother and siblings. He wiggled for comfort but settled in nicely by his mother’s paw.

“I don't want to take more of your time,” Abby started, but you brushed her off.

“No way! You're just helping me with my rounds is all. I need to check in with them anyway. They should be waking up from naptime and will be ripe and ready to play in their field,” you explained as you walked farther down the hall. Abby was still hesitant but followed nonetheless. Despite some of her anxiety, she was enjoying her time with you, which was strange, of course. Maybe what you'd said about the puppies had helped her feel less nervous after all. You walked around a corner with Abby in tow and were greeted by a chorus of squealing and yelping puppies eager for playtime. Abby watched your gentle smile grow brighter if that was even possible as you began to laugh.

“Hey, furballs! How was that nap?” you asked, knowing you wouldn’t get a response other than more barking. You gradually opened the pen door, worming your way into the kennel without letting any puppies out. Abby watched with amusement as some began jumping at your legs, almost pushing you over. You giggled the whole time, biting your lip as you tried to get Abby into the room without letting the puppies out.

“Ok, how about you just sneak past-” you began trying to guide her in and opened the gate just a bit more while stretching your leg out to keep the wiggly ones on. Abby managed to squirm past and the gate was slammed shut behind her. You stood up in full with your hands on your hips and began to laugh, Abby doing the same. That is till one of the older and bigger puppies ran up behind Abby with an excited bark and jumped up. His paws pushed into the backs of her knees and they gave out, causing her to stumble forward. The next thing she knew, she was tightly gripping both your upper biceps, and your hands were planted flat palmed and quite firmly to her chest. You both stood frozen for what felt like a matter of minutes till an excited bark shook you from the daze. You took a long step back and smiled an awkward grin, turning from her rather quickly.

“Alright, let's get y’all out of here,” you barked, walking towards the back gate that let the puppies out to their grassy playpen. Abby felt excruciating embarrassment burning the skin of her neck and she had surely turned bright red. She tugged at the collar of her shirt, which was suddenly feeling too tight, and bit her tongue before she cursed her awkwardness.

However, unbeknownst to the blonde, you found yourself in a similar state. You began to fiddle with the hair behind your ears and take deep, quick breaths to relax your racing heartbeat and cool your hot skin. You hadn’t ment to grab her like that, it just happened so fast- you stopped the spiral before it could start. You walked out to the grass line, arms crossed over your front as you watched the rambunctious older puppies run a muck in their outdoor playroom. Abby eventually awkwardly approached, taking her place by your side. You smiled, but said nothing about it before, choosing to leave it alone and move on to save you both some dignity.

“They’d love another playmate, you know,” you suggested, tilting your head to the oleander pups. Some had begun to wrestle while others played with various homemade toys lying about the small yard. Abby chuckled but shook her head.

“No, it’s alright. I don't wanna be too rough,” you wholeheartedly laughed at that and shook your head.

“Trust me, they would be much rougher than you,” Abby chuckled, watching some of the wrestling pups, and agreed with your assessment as one began to bite at the other scruff, causing it to whimper in a submissive manor rather than an aggressive one.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” she murmured. She continued to watch with you when she felt something bump her shoe. Looking down, a red ball had rolled her way. Or, rather, it had been dropped by one of the german shepherd pups who looked up at her with wide brown eyes and a toothy puppy grin.

“You wanna play fetch with Abby, Turkey?” Abby smiled at you with an arched brow.

“Turkey?” you shrugged and bit the inside of your cheek.

“I had a sandwich for dinner when the littler was born and was running out of name ideas. Give me a break,” the blonde chuckled and leaned over to pick the ball up. Turkey jumped with excitement, yipping as the ball was raised. The ball was sent flying across the yard and Turkey was keen to grab it. However, a flying ball catches quite the attention in the puppy yard ans soon enough there was a decent-sized horde running and wrestling to be the one to bring it back. Abby chuckled as she watched the affair, and after some time the one and only Turkey was the one to prevail, running back eagerly with the ball held tightly in her jaws. Abby crouched down to meet her and the other few puppies running at her side.

Turkey and her friends barreled into Abby with eager paws and a dropped ball, knocking her over with more force than the blonde would have expected. In a matter of seconds, her back was flush with the ground as puppies began to crawl over her chest and lick at her face. She began to laugh louder than she had in some time as she tried to push the puppies away, but when one was moved, another took its place. One was even biting at her braid, growling as he played with it like a tug of war rope. You crouched down to try and help but were similarly ambushed by small paws and slobbery coffee breath.

When she got the chance, Abby turned her head to the right. With grass tickling her cheek and a wiggly puppy between her hands, she found herself feeling only bliss. But with a little thought, she realized that feeling wasn’t because of the grass or the puppy, but you. She realized she adored the way you laughed and how you scrunched your nose when you smiled. She loved how playful and gentle you could be and how much you cared for all the animals in the compound. And then, she noticed that worrying feeling again. But it wasn’t queasy and tight like it normally was. It was padded and buffered by a warm sinking in her belly, and despite the concern, it was comforting.

She found you comforting. Comforting like a puppy curled up in your lap or sharing space with another person you cared for. This sudden realization was new and nauseating but in a brewing-with-anticipation kind of way. She chuckled lightly under her breath and returned her gaze to the puppy wiggling between her hands. Maybe she’d have to visit more often.

#the last of us x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #oneshot #fluff

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dairy-farmer · 1 year

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hi!! past!dicktim + brucetim anon here 🫡 first of all KSJDJDHFKDJDKDLS YOUR ADDITION TO MY PREV ASK WAS SO GOOD HHHHH LITERALLY PUNCHING MY PILLOW SO HARD ADORE IT SM ❤️❤️

——

The baby lights up and tries to wiggle her way out of Dick’s hold, her chubby arms outstretched towards Bruce. “Dada!”

Dick has to force himself to let go when Bruce walks over to pick her up and settle her close to his chest. “Missed me, princess?”

The baby giggles and blows him a raspberry. Bruce chuckles and turns to Dick, catching him off-kilter with how…satisfied…Bruce looks. “Dinner’s ready. Shall we head over together, chum?”

Dick forces himself to relax and gives him what must have undoubtedly been a tilted smile. “…Sure thing, Bruce.”

Dick watches Bruce’s back as they make their way to the dining room. He can’t seem to shake off the weird, crawling sensation in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t know why Bruce’s smile before asking him felt so off-putting—as if he was privy to something that Dick has no knowledge of. If Dick didn’t know any better, he would say that the older man looked smug. But there was no way—no reason, right?

“Dick!” Tim greets happily, from his spot next Bruce who was fussing over getting the clingy child to sit down the the high-chair. “It’s good to see you again.”

Pregnancy has softened Tim. There was no doubt about that. Dick was torn between the urge to wrap the younger boy in his arms and smack several kisses on the his flushed cheeks and the urge to corrupt and make that bright-eyed look on the younger boy’s face—one he hasn’t seen for so long, not since the morning after their first time sleeping with each other, which gradually faded away as their rendezvouses kept increasing in frequency—focus solely on Dick and only Dick.

He couldn’t say what he would’ve done if Bruce hadn’t moved closer to cup Tim’s face and brush a thumb over a light bruising on under his left eye.

“What happened?” Bruce asks, his face showing indecipherable emotion as Tim lightly winces and lets out breathy noise of pain, a noise that has Dick unconsciously grip the armrests of his chair.

“Just an accident with one of the rogues,” Tim reassures Bruce. “Don’t worry.”

Bruce grunts settling into his seat at the head of the table, directly diagonal from Tim’s. “I’ll help patch you up later.”

Dick couldn’t help, but notice the weird friction in the air. Tim shifts in his seat, which Dick decided was to get into a better position to tie the baby’s bib around her neck.

(Dick always did have a strong inclination towards willful blindness.)

Tim replies, wetting his lips and finally settling back into his chair. “…alright. But I need to tuck her in first.”

Dinner was a quiet affair, interspersed with the baby making noises as she tries to sloppily eat her food while Tim and Bruce took turns wiping her messy mouth. Dick couldn’t help but stare at the two of them, with the baby sat in between, from his seat across the table, feeling oddly left out.

“I’ll be going ahead.” Tim says, lifting a dozing off Martha off her high-seat. “I guess Martha had too much fun playing with her Uncle Dick earlier.” There was an odd inflection in his tone, but it might have just been because of the baby’s weight shifting onto Tim.

“Alright,” Bruce nods and turns his attention from the other to Dick. “I’ll be seeing you out then, chum.”

Dick finds that he doesn’t want to leave. He wants to say that he could stay overnight since he didn’t have any work tomorrow. So he does just that.

And he feels a slight pang at the eye contact Tim and Bruce share for a brief moment. He feels like a complete outsider.

“Right.” Bruce says. “Alfred’s still out, so you’ll have to fix up your room yourself. I hope that’s alright with you.”

“Of course, Bruce. I got it.” He internally breathes a sigh of relief. Truth be told, Dick expected Bruce to offer his help, but grabbing some fresh linen wasn’t something he couldn’t do alone. So he guesses that was that.

——

Later, Dick wonders if maybe he should have felt more doubt—that maybe the reason Bruce didn’t actually bother helping him out was because the older man knew he would be too busy unrepentantly fucking Tim a couple rooms short of the laundry room.

Dick leaves early, feeling slightly sick, and returns back into his apartment—just his alone now—without a word. He doesn’t think they even noticed, too wrapped up as they were with each other’s bodies and pleasured noises.

ANON!!!!!!

she's named martha!!!!!!!😭😭😭😭 that's so cute!!!!! before they even 'officially' got together, tim named his baby after bruce's mother! i can see bruce just being so touched at tim doing that, just another way that tim and their baby is meant to be bruce's.

the way that martha has already locked onto bruce as her daddy, wiggling out of dick's hands and reaching out for him 🥺🥺🥺.

and bruce!!! not being able to hide the satisfaction, the smugness!! because it's not malicious, bruce doesn't mean it to be. maybe it's an unrecognized kink he has because bruce has noticed that he did fuck the wives of asshole men harder than he did his usual hookups. there was just something so thrilling in the act of taking something from someone. the punch he'd get afterward from those husbands he'd cuckolded were always worth it too.

there's something that just hums in bruce when he sees his daughter reach out to him, squealing in happiness and calling for him, fidgeting from where she was in her 'uncle' dick's arms.

bruce knows dick is responsible for his daughter's existence and he'd admit that there were moments where he'd felt insecure about it. but with each day that passed and each moment spent with tim and their child...those insecurities and fears slowly washed away.

replaced by the assurance and certainty that this was his now.

in some ways bruce is grateful to dick. grateful for gifting bruce this little family. whether he knew it or not.

he and tim still don't show it off. what's between them is still so young and innocent. bruce almost feels like a teenager with the way they fool around behind alfred and the family's backs. sneaking kisses and quickies between work and their daughter.

tim is especially conscious of their relationship and image. bruce can see how tim has to resist blushing when bruce informs him he'll be 'patching' him up after spotting the small bruise on his face. it's a code they've used before. it usually meant bruce putting his big hands all over tim's body, squeezing, tugging, playing, and trying to get a reaction out of tim. tim learns very quickly about how thoroughly bruce likes to inspect him at the slightest sign of distress.

tim insists on the code. he's so concerned about bruce's reputation as if bruce wouldn't let himself be dragged through the mud and vilified by everyone in the world.

dick keeps shooting them slight looks. flashes of confusion, pursed lips, softly furrowed brows. looks of hesitation and confusion.

dick has always been very attuned to the energy in the room and bruce doesn't doubt that he must be catching the edge of bruce's arousal and tim's softly ashamed attraction. if dick weren't present there was no doubt that tim would be in his lap and softly kissing while bruce ground his half-chub against the hot seam of him.

dick wears his heart on his shoulder and bruce catches the microexpressions as they quickly disappear. he must think bruce can't catch them but bruce has sharper eyes than most people realize.

bruce is not insecure. he hasn't been insecure about his place in tim and martha's lives for a long time.

but bruce can't help the compulsion to start kissing tim's neck. to whisper to tim that it would be okay because they were several rooms away, the wood was a thick mahogany and the walls were well insulated- dick wouldn't hear them.

it's barely been a few hours since the last time bruce was inside him. just that morning bruce had woken tim up by jostling him awake with the force of his thrusts as he mouthed at his neck and buried his cock deep into that little pussy.

he and tim are in one of the smaller guest rooms. both of tim's hands are behind him, flat on a dresser and using it to steady his balance as bruce tugs his hips down onto his cock. tim is balancing his weight on his two hands while bruceholds hisbody up and fucks as deep as he can, making sure tim knows every ridge of his cock as he fills him up.

tim is letting out soft moans, letting his head tilt back and hang as he whines when bruce hits somewhere good. bruce is barely disguising his pants, grunting at every tug out because tim is clenching down on him so sweetly, desperate to keep him inside.

bruce knows the sounds fill up the room and leak out into the hall where he knows dick is gathering up his linens.

he distracts tim with a kisses, licking into his sweet, gasping mouth while keeping a sharp ear out for those soft creaks from the floorboards that slowly begin to drift further and further away.

bruce feels a little bad. just a bit.

and normally bruce wouldn't have done it. he's not that vindictive and as much as he may be disappointed in the choices dick had made regarding tim, dick was still his son.

but bruce had seen that look. the flash of it across his expression when tim smiled that sweet look up at him. he'd watched how he'd shifted weight on his feet, shifted his stance in preparation.

tim hadn't noticed, he'd been too busy fitting a bib around martha's neck, making sure to snap every button in because she had the strength of hercules and would rip it right off.

he hadn't seen that heavy look, thick with desire and want.

and bruce had moved to stake his claim, gently stroking tim's cheek, voicing concern for an injury dick probably hadn't even noticed with how he was too focused on tim's wide hips and soft, plush chest.

sure bruce stared at them too but tim was his. it was alright if he did it.

when bruce and tim were done in the guestroom, tim tugging his underwear and pants back on, bruce checked his phone and stopped the recent message of dick informing him about an 'emergency' that he had to leave for and he's sorry he couldn't stay the night.

maybe it was a little cruel. to flaunt what he had in dick's face knowing that it very easily could've been his life.

but he couldn't help it. it was like there was something that just hummed in bruce, telling him to protect what was his.

because bruce was a fast learner and he didn't need to be taught his lesson twice about keeping the two things he loves most close to his chest.

#anonymous #asks #answered asks

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