#Either way I'm going to take care of him. I will prepare the newspaper and the bottle of water!

[dirtymeanuruk]

Can we talk about Golm's eyes?😭

[blueparadis]

Hi! I love your writing :)

If you have the time/are interested can yo make TR Mikey x reader smut with Mikey realizing reader is a virgin right before their first time? Either he believed gossips or the reader teases a lot or something. Whatever you cook up if you decide to do this, I am sure I will love it :)

Have a nice day

—

Thank you >:)) okay. this was very precise but idk why it confused me. I did my best tho. I love him sm. I'm always excited to write on him >^< hope you love it too <33

STAY WITH ME ; MANJIRO SANO !

୨ content & tags ୧ ~ f!reader, mafia au, mention of brothels, arrange marriage, virginity k!nk, ( domestic ) fluff, f1nger1ng, orgasm control, kisses and soft love making, very light corruption k!nk, teasing, he is a big softie here. word count — 2kish + blog navigation.

“You know about this ?”, Draken throws the newspaper in front of Manjiro who is deeply staring at his knuckles and his rings, sitting on a bar stool holding a drink with his non-dominant hand.

“They made it public. Were you aware of this? . . . ”Draken continues in a harsh tone with his eyebrows furrowing further as Manjiro keeps him playing with a ring, juggling it in between his fingers. “Mi-key, you know what this means right? The wedding is gonna happen in a week or . . .”

“Shin told me that we're going to visit them. Tomorrow. So, I figured . . .”

“You figured what? Y/N is practically in the front page with massive headlines and. . . ” Manjiro grabs the news paper instantly looking at the photo of her. She is walking out of a shop in a one-piece dress that reveals much of her body curves, beautifully, he must add. And except the chauffeur, there is no sign of a bodyguard. How dare he! That scoundrel.

Moreover, it's been almost a year since he saw her or it would be more accurate to say that he was forbidden to see her, meet her, talk to her. The only thread of communication he had with her was occasional gifts, though it was more of a bridging alliance with her father than wooing her.

“We’re leaving.”He rushes out of their private bar,“Now. And Inform Haruchiyo. He is coming with us.”

“What? ”, Draken gasped. “But Shinichiro -san ”

“Didn't you want me to take action? This is me taking action . . . for her. ”

“Ahhh, fuck it.”

Manjiro wasn't angry. He was furious, furious that his fiancee is roaming around the town without any sort of protection. He has been humbling himself since the day this bond was sealed. He had stopped going to whore house, bringing girls in his house or even going to a bar with Izana. The day this marriage was confirmed, he knew he had to cut off all these (bad) habits once she is under same room with him.

She was sent to study abroad, right after the meeting. Manjiro would have easily continued his lavish acts but he was told to behave, told to be prepared for her. And now that she is back, Manjiro was supposed to court her, take care of her, and get rid of the childish awkwardness of a newly married couple. Who knows what happened abroad? She might have been deflowered or . . .

“Woah. What a good day it is . . .”, Y/N’s father rose up folding the newspaper and keeping it on the tea table as he saw three men approaching in his way. Manjiro Sano, Ken Ryuguji and Sanzu Haruchiyo. Of course, they had no trouble with the security.

Without greeting Manjiro walked in to the house, he was determined to meet her. Draken stopped y/n's father with his hand while his lips started to work. “Nah... Shiba-san .... When did y/n got back? We came here immediately as soon as we saw her... in the headlines” Haruchiyo stood beside the man with his eyes on the ground, hands tucked behind at the valley of his waist.

Manjiro smiled to himself as he heard Draken making the small talk. Ah! Geez. He never changes. His eyes scanned the hall. Not a soul was there, not even a servant. He heard quick footsteps cascading down the stairs, his heartbeats escalated, breathing became faster, hands crawling inside the pocket of his slacks. . .“Ahrey. . . Isn't it yuzuha? ”

She cocked her head to a side exclaiming in a bored tone. “Hakkai and Taiju are busy at the restaurant. I'm sure you know why”

“I’m not here for them” Yuzuha couldn't help but smile at his confession.

“She is in her room. Up-stairs. Right - wing. Last room with balcony.” Manjiro was already walking as he bowed his head to give his utmost thanks to her.

He stood in front of the door for a minute thinking now what? He hasn't prepared shit to say and he certainly doesn't want to scare her. Last meeting was . . . he was quite hard on her. He knocked, three times and waited. Within five seconds he saw y/n opening the door with so much zeal in her eyes.

“You should always ask. . . Who is it? Before opening the door.”, Manjiro quipped walking into the room and closing the door behind, without turning so as to keep his eyes on her.

“Are you not surprised to see me? ”

“Yuzuu texted.”, that girl always had a knack for enacting tit-for-tat whenever there was an opening.

“So, within a week. . . You'll have to stay. . . ”

“Stay with you, share bed with you, obey you. . . Yeah, yeah I know” God! What did they do to her? Last time when Manjiro saw her she had no fire in her eyes, no fight in her soul. What exactly happened at abroad?

“I wasn't going to say that but i guess that sums up. Here”, he kept a strip of medicines. “You will have these. I want you to be prepared for our wedding night. Start from today.” Part of her knew what those pills did, while part of her wanted to ask, to hear through his voice. How fucking rude! No gifts, no talk straight to sex.

The wedding day was lustrous and full of happiness. Just for a day, everyone in the Shiba family set aside there differences to make you smile. Yuzuha complained a little about how she is gonna be lonely without her sister and claimed she is gonna visit her soon but Manjiro brushed it off.

“You’re drinking too much. . . Is the crowd making you nervous? Do you want to go inside? Is the food too spicy? ”

Manjiro was kind even for a man who belonged to the obsidian world of blood-bath. His attention was focused on her, her tone of talking, body language. He cannot wait to just have her, share bed with her and fuck her in all positions known to a man, fuck her till all she remembers is his name, till she reeks of him, thinks of him and only him.

He entered the room an hour later than her. By the time she already had changed clothes and was under the covers laying down and thinking about the marriage, this marriage that was mere an alliance and she was just a peace offering.

“Y/N, you still awake?”Manjiro asked coming out of the bathroom and standing near the edge of the bed. The light of night lamp was perfectly falling on her face as she turned around to face him. Manjiro’s heart dropped at the pit of his stomach, cock twitched as her body peeked from under the covers.

“Are you tired?”, he asked leaning over her as he tucked the loose hair strands behind her ear. She nodded and sat upright. He was now sharing the same cover as her, cock growing, eyes glinting in lust and heart pounding amongst his rib cage. He cupped her face so as she would meet his eyes but she jerked his hands off instantaneously, jumping out of the bed and making some distance between them.

“Don’t”

“Why? Did i do something wrong? Something that hurt you? ”

“No but . . .” “I didn't take pills.”

Manjiro got out of bed and strolled towards her. She backed away. He could see her shaky hands, he swallowed and looked away. “Do i scare you, Y/N?”

“No.” There was silence for a few seconds since Manjiro did not know what to do, what to say. He wasn't ready to have babies, not yet. And, now he can't even fuck her raw and he would hate to wear condom on his wedding night. He always used protection while visiting brothels even though he knew all the girls were clean.

“I. . . I want . . . I need time”, she breathed out. Manjiro’s eyebrows jumped since an entirely different fact dawned on him. Could it be. . . she is. . .?

“Are. . .” he cleared his throat. “Are you still a virgin ?”

“What do you mean still?” , she thought.

“umm-hmm” He raked his fingers through his pitch-black hair revealing his dragon tattoo as her feeble umm-hmm echoed in his head. She is a virgin, that is, he is going to be her first, probably for everything. Honestly, he wouldn't have minded if it were opposite since he was dry for almost an year and now had to keep himself under control. Great. He is truly fucked.

“Do you trust me, y/n ?”

“I can try ”

Manjiro laid out his hand in front of her. She hesitated at first but the moment she kept her palm over his, Manjiro lowered his head to kiss her knuckles. As soon as he raised his head, he pulled her against his body wrapping his other hand around her waist. Her body felt warm,less shaky as he felt her nose grazing against his chest muscles.

“So, you're saying that. . .”, he earned her stares on him as he spoke further. “No one was handsome enough for your taste ?”

“It was a all - girls college.”

“Uhhh-Hahh!” , Manjiro lips tugged up. “And they didn't tell you about anything? What actually happens during wedding night? When they came to know about our marriage.”

“I wasn't supposed to talk about my life, this life to them. I made friends. They were nice but i missed home.” Manjiro was taken aback by her ways for two reasons; one : she wasn't afraid of him like others, two: she was innocent but not naive, a little brave he might add.

“Y/N ?”

“Hmm?”

And when she peered up Manjiro pressed his lips against her cheeks just at the corner of her lips without a second thought. He has fucked enough girls to know a woman's weak spots but this felt out of syllabus. He guided her hands over his shoulders as his lips proceeded along her neckline. Manjiro bucked his hips , pressed his hard on against her entrance earning a loud gasp with her hands locking around his nape. Bingo.

Manjiro swiftly pushed her on to the bed. He stood looking at her while she panted vigorously. He discarded his upper clothing, crawling on top her. His head dipped while she leaned in, lips slightly parted awaiting for his kiss. But Manjiro’s lithe fingers worked on the buttons of her night dress. “What? You thought I was gonna kiss you. . . on your lips. You asked for time, remember?”

But immediately Manjiro’s lips were silenced by a kiss. Dry, short-lived and quick. His hands were still on undoing the buttons Manjiro couldn't help but grin.

“Is that you call a kiss? ”one of his hands travelled underneath her thin night gown, way up to her vagina. His fingers penetrated her at the same time his lips dashed on hers. Manjiro wasn't in mood to hold back because her body was eager. She was just a little afraid and by her desperate hold on his arms, Manjiro could tell she was loving it.

He explored her lips and kissed as deep as he could. “That is ... What you call a kiss.”, he whispered against her lips before pecking her cheeks. He added one more finger and quickened his pace, hitting her spot, watching her eyes blanking out, her grips growing stronger on his arms, body squirming underneath his. Her hips reflexively bucked up as orgasm washed over her body.

“Good girl. ”, he hummed as he rolled beside her giving space to breath licking his fingers shamelesly.

@tokyometronetwork

[sophieswundergarten]

You know what I think? I think we haven't given enough time to considering Reynie's backstory. I know it isn't expanded upon much, and since he's the main perspective character it's easy to brush past because he doesn't consider it an issue, but the kid lived in an orphanage for basically his whole life before the series.

It's stated that he's bullied for not fitting in. I'm lucky that I've never been in that kind of position before (homeschooled, etc.) because I haven't been around lots of people, but this is worse than normal schools because he lived with them. He couldn't get away from the kids who thought he was weird and made fun of him for doing things like reading because they were around each other all of the time.

If someone teases me even slightly and good-naturedly about using big words or being excited about some "obscure" trivia, I still want to clam up and never talk about it again. It's only due to Miss Perumal that Reynie doesn't give up the things he enjoys doing, like reading the newspaper, because of the other kids. There had to be some times after he meets everyone else that he'll be speaking and then suddenly stutters to a stop for seemingly no reason and when the others check on him it's because some dumb bully harassed him for, like, using the word "ubiquitous" or knowing about the history of the printing press or something and he's still scared that if he lets himself ramble without censoring himself everyone will hate him.

It's a joke that he initially wears mismatched clothes in the first book, but the reason is that he dressed in the dark, not because he's kindhearted and was trying to be nice (Though he'd probably try and do it anyway), but because his orphanage roommates yell at him for even reading with a penlight under a blanket at night. Thankfully, Miss Perumal knows him and tells him to please go change with the lights on regardless, but the way he was too prepared to do it says that this has happened before (Possibly a lot).

The orphanage director knows that Reynie is gifted and is in no way challenged by the general curriculum offered (He expects the eleven year old to write up a ten-page report by the day after he's taken the test, and is confident he'll be able to do it), but he keeps Reynie there so that he'll get paid for providing him an "education". Technically, this is why Miss Perumal is hired, which proved to be great, but they could have just as easily hired a terrible person who didn't care about Reynie either. Mr. Benedict has to bribe the man to get him to let them take Reynie, which is also concerning because he never seems to care about Reynie and apparently forgets about him after getting paid.

I've seen people who are genuinely brilliant humans but consistently believe that they're stupid or average because no one has told them how smart they are. He probably takes a long time to shake off the fear that the other shoe will drop at some point and Mr. Benedict will realise he's not as smart as they thought he was and they'll send him back. Even though Miss Perumal keeps telling him he's gifted, he has to ask her if she thinks he'd even qualify for Mr. Benedict's tests in the beginning.

[yennasun]

MTs mindset after the events of avm + sneek peaks

Obligatory trigger warning

I've always loved playing with the "remorseful villain" trope, so I decided to go with that.

After the events of AvM (I haven't decided on whether he gets beaten or runs away, he refuses to use his powers either way) his relapses HARD.

After betraying purple, he had the scene replaying in his head for a very long time.

He shouldn't have turned to look, he knew what he'd see but it didn't make it any less of a punch to the gut.

The face of hurt and betrayal his friend...his only friend made would haunt him until the day someone finally put an end to his miserable life.

If fate were real, it would be them dealing the final blow.

He essentially vanished into thin air, leaving no traces that he'd ever even existed, tearing down his castle and everything in it, which left purple, who had wanted to at least get in touch with MT to talk about it, distraught.

The rest of the CG think nothing of it, except for a wary SC who thinks he's doing it to set up a surprise attack later on.

"It's been weeks, I haven't been able to find him" purple sighed

"It's like he was never here to begin with" purple said sadly

"Who cares? Good riddance!" Green said nonchalantly

"...I expected better from YOU of all people, green" purple turned

"He's right though purp. What's done is done, he had his chance so why stress over it?" Blue interjected rationally

It still stung purple badly, because all things considered they had felt a mutual sense of friendship and trust between MT and them.

And with that, they got up and left. It was a losing battle anyways.

Eventually his self loathing gets so out of hand he willingly goes back to his creator in an attempt to gain some Penance for what he did.

May 18th, 2021

It hurts too much

I don't know how much longer I can keep pushing

It still feels like I'm still there

I may as well have killed them myself

Was he right all along?

...

I need to go see someone

I'm still playing around with a few ideas on how CG is gonna find out, but one such idea is to have MT make a comeback in the USFC, although strangely taking more damage than he used to, although still coming on top in the end. Some of his comeback fights he was actually LOSING on the scorecards before rallying for a knockout in the later rounds.

Rooney isn't hear anymore by the way, he's not dead and I do plan on having them reunite at some point.

The way CG in this scenario finds out about it is they either see it on TV or in the newspapers in stick city.

By the time CG rescues him, he's been in a vicious cycle of physical, mental and psychological anguish for a long time. And yet MT still begs his creator to keep him.

When they came closer, Sec noticed just how...static MT looked.

It was though he'd been in stasis the way his head lolled from side to side while his mouth drooped open and how unfocused his eyes were.

That would be much more concerning if not for how absolutely battered he looked.

"Take him" they heard a commanding voice behind them

Purple turned around to see the stick, tall and intimidating he stared them both down

"You want him, right?" He quirked an eyebrow expectantly

"I uh...yeah" purple stammered out

"Take him, he's damaged goods...maybe a little too damaged, I doubt he'll make it a hundred feet before kickin' the bucket." He chuckled viciously

Sec held a disturbed look on their face before beckoning purple to help him pick up MT.

They each took an arm and were prepared to leave, until they'd felt a rough shove that staggered sec and sent purple to the ground.

MT limped over to his creator and dropped on his knees, begging for him to take him back

"I'll fight again...i-i'll do better, I'll win the title please! Whatever it takes...im sorry" the words barely came out more than pained whisper paired with sobs.

Creator simply knelt down closer to MT

"You aren't worth anything to me anymore, you never were to begin with" he said with a snarl

He stood up and turned to the pair

"Get him out if my sight, His mere presence insults me!" He yelled at them, before leaving

MT had all but lost his sense of belonging and purpose, because all he knows is fighting. It's what he'd been raised for, it's what he's trained for and it's what he's had to endure years of crushing agony for. Without it, what then?

His path to recovery (yes, theres a path to recovery) starts off rough. He acts as though he doesn't care for any of them but underneath is an intense self loathing, thinking he doesn't deserve the second chance he's been given. Any nice things anyone says or does to him have the exact opposite effect, instead of making him feel better, it makes him hate himself even more and he tends to project this to others.

If he gets into an argument with any of them, they may be over it the next day but MT goes blank for days at a time. He almost never speaks and when he does it monotonous one-worded answers with blank expression. His actions seem automatic and to him, days blend together fast.

If it wasn't obvious enough, MT doesn't know how to deal with emotions.

He has a habit of disappearing for days at a time without a word to anyone, before returning without a word to anyone. A few times one of the gang was up and was able to detect the smell of alcohol on him.

Of course, this is all amplified by his schitzophrenic-like tendencies.

He'll have episodes of paranoia which sometimes devolve into full on delusions. If he feels one coming, he'll try and get away from everyone to ride it out on his own. It's also why he doesn't accept any of blues offers for netherwarts (although I actually have a funny story involving MT eating a peice of cake not knowing it was one of blues netherwart cakes) as the effects make his paranoia worse.

MT actually has yet to attack anyone due to his paranoia, mainly because he refuses to use his powers once again.

Don't expect him to talk about his problems, this man absolutely REFUSES to show any kind of weakness, which to him also qualifies as emotions.

Thats as far as I've planned, sorry for no chapters but writers block is getting me good. I've found that writing down and sometimes sharing my ideas can help me out alot. Anyways thanks for reading through this shit show if you've made it this far lmao

[a-pretty-nerd]

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 9

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you’re in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word count: 2,756

Warnings: Cursing

A/N:

Oh dear lord I'm slow at getting these out. Life's been kickin' my ass lately. But thank you to everyone who's been giving me feedback on my stuff, I really love to hear from you guys!

Taglist: 

(So sorry, I forgot when I originally posted!) 

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

@kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 @skzero-99 @justanotherlifeff

@witch-o-memes​

Chapter 8 Chapter 10

Two months. You've been "missing" for two months now. The days flew by, your time occupied by quirk training Shigaraki insisted on but never told you why. The times you tried to ask he'd brush it off, or say something like:

"So you don’t throw another fit." His words were harsh but he said them with a flat and bored tone. Like it was a poorly acted line.

So now you had better control. You could move things on command, you knew basic combat, you certainly knew how to kick Dabi's ass by now, that didn't take too long. You were being allowed more and more freedom. Even allowed to leave for a convenience store runs with Toga once or twice. No one policed you, told you what you could and could not do anymore. You could have easily ran away by now. You supposed they really didn't need you either. For their plan to work all they would need was some blood and Toga could easily pass as you.

That idea sent a shiver down your spine. You're sure Shigaraki has thought of that already, so why hadn't he? Why was he training you? Would he use your quirk against the heroes in some way? Was he grooming you to turn and fight your father? You wouldn't. No matter what you wouldn't fight your father. Would you? You shook yourself of this thought as you walked down the ally to the back door of the hide out.

Toga unlocked the door and you stepped in, greeted by a dark and dingy back room. You made your way through the dark halls, following closely behind her as she led you up the stairs that finally led to the parts of the building with power. Soon you found yourself walking to the familiar living space where a few people rested. Dabi laid himself out on one of the couches, Spinner sat fiddling with his burner phone, and Twice had started yelling at the TV before you arrived.

"Luuuunch!" Toga shouted. Toga was often used as the errand girl, she brought back necessary supplies, oftentimes food. Today Toga asked you to tag along and help out, and there wasn't a single objection to the hostage going out on the town. You sat the heavy bags down on the coffee table, taking out the contents as you spoke.

"Where are the others?" You asked.

"Mr. Compress was sent on an errand of his own. And Shigaraki's probably pouting in his room. He'll come out when he's hungry." Dabi groaned as he took his meal from your hand.

"Oh. I'll just bring it to him." You said, absent-minded. All eyes turned to you, looking confused and shocked. "What?" You asked.

"Nothing! It's just-"

"He doesn't like to be disturbed." Toga and Twice spoke. You paused and looked at the box in your hand. It would get cold if he didn't eat soon, and besides, none of you had had much to eat lately, you were sure he was hungry. You knew you were.

"I'll just leave it at the door and knock. It'll get cold and then he'll be in an even worse mood." You told them. They watched you turn and walk up the stairs to his "room". You stood in front of the door, with such thin walls you could hear furious typing on the other side. Loud clicking of a mouse, and the sound of a computer's fan. You took a deep breath and softly knocked on the door. Suddenly the sounds abruptly stopped, followed by a bark.

"What!?"

"Foods here." You called back. You heard footsteps on the other side growing louder and louder until the door flew open. You stared up at the tall man as he looked down on you. His hair hung over his face, his eyes hardly visible. Your heart rate quickened the longer you looked at him. What the hell is wrong with you?

"Give it to me." He held out his hand, his pinky holding out in preparation to receive the box.

"You said you liked spice stuff, right?" You asked as you placed it in his hand.

"Yeah."

"We got you their spicy special. I hope it's not too much. The sign said 'caution' on it." He scoffed at you, turning the box and looking at the writing on it. He fell very quiet. Inspecting the box, you suddenly worried that something was wrong with it. That maybe you'd messed up somehow. But before your anxiety could reach its peak-

"Thank you." His voice was low and soft. You could hardly hear him. Then before you could respond he closed the door and left you alone again. Did he really say that? You never heard him say that to anyone. Granted, you hardly knew him but still, the way he said it, it made you feel... special in some way. You shook yourself from your train of thought and shuffled down the hallway, pausing when you heard movement and the door to Shigaraki's room open. You froze.

"Wait a minute." He barked. You turned too look at him. He hung out of the doorway to stare at you.

"W-What?" You asked. Shigaraki had a way of making people feel like they were in trouble. His ability to easily become an authority figure was something you were beginning to understand now.

"You...went out?" You nodded. He paused and looked away, his eyes shifting as the gears spun in his head. He turned back into his room as he spoke, "come here for a second." He asked. You slowly made your way to his room, the door left wide for you to peak inside. A dark room lit by portable light fixtures and a laptop computer which sat on an old desk. A cot thrown to the corner covered by the same old and tattered blankets the rest of you had.

"Am I... in trouble?" You croaked.

"What? No. Close the door behind you, you'll let in a draft." He ordered, seeming genuinely confused by your question. You closed the door behind you, leaving you completely alone with him in his space. Your heart raced.

You watched him turn and look up at the wall which he had decorated with plans. Pictures of heroes and villains cut out and pinned. Newspaper clippings, printed out articles and research essays. He was planning something, but what it was was difficult to determine. You did notice however, a cut out of an empty figure with your name on it pinned to the center of it all. You stared at it for a second before he broke you from your train of thought.

"Well?"

"Huh!?"

"What do you think?" He asked. His attention turned to his meal, he picked at it, taking a few bites.

"Of what?"

"...the plan." You looked back at the wall, puzzled you tried your best to gain any sort of information from it. Only being able to find bits and pieces. You knew it involved you, your father, and the take down of hero society. A cut out piece of article said something about the rise of villains, that more and more people were turning to villain work. How those rates have a correlation with classes. You slowly turned back to look at him.

"I'm sorry you're gonna have to explain this to me." You told him. He rolled his eyes and stood, directing his attention to his work as he spoke.

"This is the second part of the plan."

"What was the first?"

"Taking you as a hostage."

"Right. But, didn't you say the plan was to expose the heroes after they weren't able to rescue me and not only expose the faulty heroes but also my father as a neglectful and flawed individual not worthy of the hero title?" He paused.

"Yes."

"But that didn't go as planned."

"....."

"Didn't you say something about making a video to broadcast outing myself as All Might's daughter and causing panic? What happened to that plan?"

"It became leverage. If they attempt to come for you, then we'll go with that. But if we do that now, they'll come for you now and we'll be forced to fight."

"Isn't a fight...a good thing? You'd get news coverage and You'd no doubt gain supporters."

"Normally it would. But a fight isn't what we need right now. The heroes have us surrounded. If we make any move at all, we're in their hands. We won't be able to win."

"Not even with your quirk? Couldn't you-"

"Not with everyone here. As strong as I've gotten, I'm not strong enough to keep them from getting swept up and dusted too."

"Right."

"We're in a tight spot. One wrong move and we'll be wiped out."

"What about your supporters? Couldn't you get help from the outside."

"I could, but the heroes would see it coming. They have our signal tapped. Any sort of communication has to be verbal or written."

"Homing pigeon?" You offered. It made him smirk.

"Right now we're like a fox trapped in its own hole by hunters."

"So... we dig?" That made him smile, wide.

"Dig. If we could smuggle ourselves out of the city, we could reach a clear spot where we can call for backup to get us."

"Why not send one person to smuggle themselves out? Toga could easily disguise herself and leave."

"They have a barrier."

"What?"

"Part of the city is closed off until further notice. They know exactly where we are. If one gets out, they won't hesitate to come for all of us. We all have to get out at once and they can't notice until it's too late."

"But how the hell are you gonna do that?" His smile widened. He looked truly excited and happy. For the first time you saw your capture seem truly excited about something.

"We have a few secret recruits in the city. Spies." He turned his attention back to his meal box, reaching in to pull out the inner box that held the food, to reveal a piece of paper sitting underneath in the flimsy take out box. "I didn't know they were letting you out of the base now." He spoke as he opened and read the note within the box.

"I thought, you knew. I thought you were the one that said I could. Dabi said it was fine." He read the note and stood to pin it up on the wall before speaking.

"I've been too busy with this to worry about you. You shouldn't believe everything that Dabi says. I told him to make sure you just don't have another episode and cause a scene before we leave. I thought assigning him babysitting duty would keep him busy." He chuckled. "There's just one thing I don't understand." He turned back to you. "Why didn't you leave?"

"I...I..."

"You had the opportunity, but you're still here. Why?" You froze. Why? Why didn't you run?

"I was scared I'd be killed." You lied. He laughed at you.

"Don't lie to me. You lost that fear a long time ago. You know that's not true. If I wanted you dead I would have killed you a long time ago."

"You've kept me alive to use me as bate. To, to expose the truth." You argued.

"With Toga, we wouldn't need to." You swallowed hard. You knew he had thought about this.

"I'll tell you why I stayed, if you tell me why you've been training me." He scoffed.

"To keep you busy, to keep you from having another episode."

"That doesn't make sense. You could have drugged me, killed me, you said it yourself. But you kept me alive, you kept me busy. You could have kept me on my meds, unable to use it at all but you insisted I learn my quirk. You trained me yourself. Why?" His smile faded and his expression became dark.

"I asked you first." He growled. You looked away from him and thought for a moment before gaining the strength to answer. You knew the truth for a while now. You never wanted to say it out loud. You refused to look at him as you spoke.

"I don't wanna go back. But you probably already knew that by now. You just wanted to hear me say it, huh?" His smirk returned.

"Had a hunch." He snickered.

"Now you answer me."

"Why don't you wanna go back?"

"We had a deal. Answer my question now." You barked at him. It took him a long pause. A full minute of waiting in silence felt like agony.

"I thought it would help you feel better." He muttered in a surprisingly husky tone. "Keep you from asking me to dust you again." That's right, during your episode...

"I'm sorry." You blurted.

"What?"

"I'm sorry I... I asked you to kill me." You hid your face from him. He shifted and crossed his arms across his chest.

"It's not a big deal, I dust people all the time."

"No, I know. But like, I can't imagine being asked to by someone having a fucking break down happens all the time too. I kinda...kinda put you in a shitty position." When you looked up, he looked confused. Comically so. "What?"

"I took you hostage." He reminded you. You couldn't help but chuckle, that made him more confused.

"Shit, yeah, you're right. Guess I shouldn't be so hard on myself huh?" He looked away. "Still. My intentions weren't to upset you."

"You didn't upset me."

"It seems like I upset you." You toyed. His guard was down, he was vulnerable, and allowing you to be there.

"Shut up. You didn't answer my other question!" He shouted in an almost playful tone. You couldn't help but smile, only to have it slowly fade as you thought about your second answer.

"I don't want to go back because..." you stopped, the words getting stuck in your throat. You were unable to speak. He looked down at you, waiting for an answer. He seemed almost relaxed. He seemed normal. Like a normal guy leaning against the wall of his bedroom with his arms folded across his chest. Your eyes wandered up to his scarred neck, bright red scabs forming. Inflamed and fresh. He had recently scratched at it again, clearly in an upset state too. When he blinked you got a clear view of the scarring around his eyes.

"Boss!" A familiar voice shouted from outside the door. "Boss!" Before you could move the door was thrown open, Spinner's wide eyes finding you standing there. He shook his confusion loose before turning back to Shigaraki who quickly changed his position to attention. "Come quick!"

You followed him back to the living space where the old television sat. The news playing loudly as everyone gathered around to watch in panic. Swat teams and heroes decorated the screen as shot after shot showed them surrounding your building. Fear ran from your toes to your head, making you feel nauseous and dizzy. Shit. Shit. Shit. They're here for you. But you...you weren't ready to leave. And what about-

"Not again! - We can take 'em'!" Twice shouted at it like a sport was playing.

"Tomura, what are we going to do!?" Toga asked, frantically bobbing up and down in panic. He watched the TV intently listening in.

"After receiving a tip from an anonymous source, police and heroes found missing tourist Y/L/N Y/N being held captive by The League of Villains in this abandoned office building. Officials are working now to safely rescue the hostage."

Suddenly a loud voice was heard both on TV and through the halls of the building.

"League of Villains. We have you surrounded. Please let Y/L/N go and no one will be hurt." A cop shouted through a megaphone.

"C'mon Shigaraki, what's the plan?" Dabi asked, clearly starting to get uncomfortable. Before Shigaraki could respond, you spoke.

"Well, looks like this is it for me." You began walking away, only to be stopped by a strong, four-fingered grip pulling you back.

"Where do you think you're going!?" He growled.

"The jig is up, Shigaraki! Let me go! I'm not useful anymore. All they want is me, if I'm out of your hair you'll be able to escape easier." His grip tightened, pulling you closer as his red eyes bore into yours.

"So long as you're here they won't dare make a move. You're still my most valuable player. You're staying right here."

[fanishjuli]

hi! can we hear a bit more about sundresses and/or Ley de Identidad de Género?

(from this ask game)

yes! sundresses is very cute and one of the first GO fics I remember starting. it's inspired by this post I made and it's literally just Aziraphale and Crowley both wearing sundresses. except that this is me we're talking about so it got longer and longer and longer and what I thought would be a short and sweet ficlet is currently 5325 words long and Aziraphale hasn't even put his dress on yet. there are lot's of lovely feelings and communication and reassurances and hugs and kisses and a preparing and eating a meal and Crowley in a dress but I'm still only like a half, maybe two thirds of the way done.

here's a snippet for you from the very start (for context: Crowley covered Aziraphale's eyes, he hasn't seen the dress and doesn't know what Crowley is wearing yet)

“You promise not to turn or try and peek a look until I tell you?”

“Promise, darling.” He raises a hand to where Crowley’s cover his eyes. “I’ve even got my eyes closed right now.” Crowley sighs and lets go, one hand falling down to her side and the other holding on to Aziraphale’s. The angel smiles and brings their tangled hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to Crowley’s knuckles. “Thank you, dear. May I open my eyes now? Just to finish breakfast, I won’t look at you.”

“Yeah, okay.” She lets his hand go and takes two steps back, remaining behind him so he can’t see her out of the corner of his eyes either.

“Thank you, my dear.” Aziraphale opens his eyes and looks down at the cream. Perfect. He then looks up at the stove, just in time to flip the pancake. And... perfect as well. “I need to grab the apples and cutting board so I’m going to close my eyes and turn to the table and cabinets, dear. You can move out of the way until I’m back facing this way so I don’t see you, would that be okay Crowley?”

Crowley swallows, her mouth suddenly feeling a little dry. “Yes, that’s fine, angel.” She moves out of his line of sight, absolutely not feeling choked up about her husband caring for her so much he goes out of his way to respect her silly request for him not to look at her just yet. Absolutely not. She is a demon with class, she refuses to feel choked up about being loved this way. And she refuses to cry about it, damnit. It’s nine in the morning, get yourself together Crowley.

and it gets much softer from there 😊

as for Ley de Identidad de Género, thats a fun one as well. if you've ever heard me talk about a single law in my life it's that one, la ley nacional de identidad de genero from Argentina (the national gender identity law) which is fucking fantastic and I love it and I guess I wanted to share how fucking amazing a law it is with the rest of the world, so I had this idea of having Aziraphale and Crowley being excited about what a fucking good law it is. and it's also an excuse to play with one of my headcanons about them being generally excited about human progress

here's a snippet from the beginning:

"Angel! You'll never guess what they did yesterday," Crowley shoves the pile of newspapers aside and takes a seat on the edge of the desk. Aziraphale sighs with resignation.

He is holding back a smile, however, always happy to play this game but not ready to give it away. It's been happening more and more often these past decades, but it's been centuries since the first time they played. They know all the steps by now: Crowley comes in excited about some new thing the humans have done, he makes Aziraphale guess at what it is for a bit before finally telling him, and then they share a drink in celebration.

His favourite so far has to be when Crowley told him they were venturing out into space. She'd been all but shaking with excitement and her dark glasses kept falling down her nose with how much she couldn't sit still. She couldn't wait, didn't let him make more than four guesses before she just told him. They went out for dinner and shared a nice vintage scotch Aziraphale had been saving for a special occasion afterwards, because what was more special than Crowley's enthusiasm like it was that day? Her smile didn't drop once all evening and the only other time Aziraphale had seen her close to that was when they held their breaths and watched together as the first human stepped on the moon. The twentieth century was, all things considered, some exciting decades of human development, if one could overlook the reason for most of those developments being war of some kind or another.

The way Crowley sits on his desk now, the genuine grin on his face, the relaxed posture and always-twitching fingers and, most importantly, the way he lets his glasses slide down an inch and makes eye contact over them, Aziraphale can tell this is a really good one. Whatever humanity has done now, he knows it's Good.

[catxsnow]

AFTER HOURS chapter four

Summary: Enemies to the public, friends to their close ones, friends with benefits between them. Rival companies and an attraction that can’t be ignored.

Tim Drake x reader

Warnings: swearing, mature content, smut, 18+ only, mention death of parents, car crash mentions.

A/N: 

Word Count: 3.3k

Tim sat in his desk at Wayne Enterprises. His head was tilted back and his eyes sealed shut. It wasn't just the fact that he was tired and sore from his previous night out on patrol, but the fact that he was worried. Worried for her, her company, her well-being. He was worried that she was being too rash to get the recognition  she deserved.

It had been a week since their last encounter and since she had made all those sudden involvements. There were several press conferences that were held for her and each of them led to the same thing: she was going to be seen as the best business woman in Gotham - the best CEO in Gotham.

For the first time in a long time, Gotham believed her. They looked past the headline that was made of her a week ago and saw that she was the person that Gotham needed. They asked her serious questions like what her company's future was going to be like, where she was getting this funding - not who that man was that she went home with.

Her plan, though risky, had worked. She was getting treated like the CEO that she was, not the little girl that she was four years ago. Though Tim was worried, he was also proud of everything she accomplished. However, with her sudden changes, that put his own company in a tough spot. He was suffering, and it was because of her.

So what was he to do? Push back? Take away everything that she worked so hard to accomplish? That would have been an act of war, one that he wasn't willing to risk. For now, he pushed forward with his own plans, not rushing and not delaying them. There was nothing else that he could do.

Not to mention that his Gala that he was hosting was only two days from now. Everything had been set - except for the fact that (Y/N) still hadn't given him her confirmation of coming. She was right, it had been four years of knowing each other and not once had she shown up. Why would she now?

Why was he disappointed this time that she wasn't planning to make an appearance? Tim found himself going to her more often. He wanted to spend time with her outside of just fucking. It seemed that he had been pushing his luck with her anyways. Deep talks when their sex was over, longer times together. They never used to do that.

So why now? Why after all this time was he pushing to be with her more. Why was she letting him? Time after time she always told him that no one could know. What they had was purely in secret, and most importantly what they had was just sex. Nothing besides sex, they weren't supposed to be even friends.

Why did Tim consider her one of his best friends? She was the person that he wanted to go to when times were hard. Sure he had Conner and Bart, but sometimes they just didn't understand his issues the same way that she did. She always seemed to know what was right.

Tim wiped his hands down his face and let out a tired groan. He wanted this week to be over already. Aside from this stupid gala he had to do, he had plans with his friends. It had been a long time since he had seen the Titans and he missed them.

Not as much as he missed her.

"Mr. Wayne?" His secretary buzzed into his office. Tim snapped himself out of his daze and asked what she had wanted. "You have a call on line one. She didn't say her name." Tim narrowed his eyes - was this someone who knew his secret identity? Someone prepared to threaten Wayne Industries?

Tim grabbed the phone, he never got the chance to speak before the woman spoke. "I can hearing you sighing all way the way in my own building, Tim."

"Ms. (L/N)," Tim smiled at the sound of her voice. He spun around in his chair to look out the window to her own building. If he had a pair of binoculars, he could have seen her standing at her window staring back at her. "What do I owe the pleasure of hearing from you today?" More so, how did she knew that he was just thinking of her?

"I thought I'd give you a bit of a heads up that you've got reporters coming your way wanting to know your opinion about my recent... purchases," she told him. Tim had managed to avoid them for as long as he could, it was no surprise that they would find someway to corner him.

"I appreciate it," Tim thanked her. "Before you go. I just wanted to let you know that you still have an invite to my gala on Friday."

"I gave you my answer and I'm staying by it," She told him after a moment of hesitance. Now more than ever she couldn't go to his gala. She swore that she could hear Tim's disappointment at her answer.

"I can't convince you to?" Tim tried once more. She was unsure if he meant sex or business - either sounded tempting to her. However, having to dress up in heels and act fake around people that supported Tim - and her - sounded terrible. She didn't know how he could host so many.

"Goodbye Tim."

Fuck.

><

Friday mornings always seemed easier than any other day of the week. Maybe it was because after that long day of work, it was nothing but relaxation for the next two. It didn't matter, she looked forward to Fridays every week. Except this week.

Tonight was Tim's gala. It was all over the news in Gotham, as well as the front page of every newspaper. Tim's cheery smile filled every media, as well as the kind words he had to say for the reason of hosting. He was raising money to build the new orphanage down town Gotham for the kids on the streets.

Who could say no to that?

To make matters worse, her name also filled the paper. One of the reporters had asked if she was to be attending the gala. Tim answered as kindly as he could - stating that she had already made a massive donation and that she was too busy with her own projects to be able to attend. Of course, they had made her name look bad in order to make his better.

She sighed and turned off the TV as the news reporter called her out for being to preoccupied in her own tower to think of the poor children on the streets. That wasn't the case, that was far from the case. In fact, she was completely free that night and was able to attend. It was the matter of her not wanting to go.

"Mr. William," she smiled as her head advisor walked into the office. He had been close to her parents when they were running the company. Through the years, he became the closet thing to a father figure in her life. "What can I help you with today?"

"It's a matter of what can you help yourself with today, Ms. (L/N)," He sat in the chair. Mr. William couldn't have been much older than fifty. He had a kind smile and the belly of a beer drinker, though she had known for a fact that he hadn't had a sip in twenty odd years. His hair was speckled grey and glasses were always slipping down his nose.

"I think you should attend Mr. Wayne's gala," he admitted. She rolled her eyes at his proposition. "The two of you are friends, good friends. Why not let the people know that you are? Why keep up this charade that you hate each other? Gotham would be far better off if we united with Wayne Enterprises."

She couldn't exactly tell him that she didn't want to whole city to find out that they were fucking on the side. She still didn't even want them to know that they were friends. For years her company and WE had been at war with each other, she didn't want the people to think she was weak for suddenly siding with him and giving up.

"The news is already giving you a bad rep for not attending. It's been four years since you've started here, and not once have you attended. I know you've made you donation but I really think it would help give better morale for you to go. Just think about it, yeah?"

"Thanks, Mr. Williams." He was right. The press was giving her a hard time for never going. They did this every time that he had a gala and she stated that she wasn't going to attend. Why did it bother her now? Why did she know deep down that Mr. William was right about everything? Maybe because he was. Or maybe she was just tired of the charades.

Fuck.

><

(Y/N) was nervous quite often. It was a bad trait of hers that she was never able to shake. Throughout the years, she had grown to hide it through false confidence. Press conferences were the worst. She would stand in front of dozens of reporters, all of them ready to pick apart everything she said.

It was impossible not to feel nervous in her line of work. Billions of dollars were on the line every day and one false step and she could lose it all. She had done good work so far, and she had made the people of Gotham believe that she wasn't some shy girl, she exuded confidence - even if it was fake.

However, walking into the the Wayne Gala with an expensive dress and heels that were far higher than she was used to, she wasn't able to keep up the façade. She wore a golden dress that was tight in the chest and loose around her legs. A dangerously high slit showed off her legs. Perfectly executed makeup was done that made her eyes gleam.

It wasn't her own eyes that she was worried about, it was the eyes of everyone in that room. Their gaze was glued to her, and it made her incredibly nervous. She wasn't sure if it was because of how she was dressed or because for the first time in four years she had attended Tim's event.

(Y/N) walked through the path being cleared for her and grabbed a glass of champagne off the tray a server held. Tim Wayne stood at the end of her walkway, though he was yet to notice her. He was talking with several other CEO's, laughing as if they were all good friends. She knew they weren't, she knew that he didn't care for them in the slightest.

Tim finally averted his gaze to the gold glimmer headed his way. He had to do a double take to realize that it was in fact (Y/N). Shock was evident in his eyes. To everyone, it would have been because of her arrival, in reality it was the fact that he couldn't believe how incredibly stunning she looked.

Never in his life has he laid eyes on someone so beautiful.

Tim excused himself from the men he was talking to and met you half way to your journey towards him. If there wasn't a room full of people watching, he would have kissed you right there. He wanted to, even if it meant breaking everything that you had hidden for so long.

"Mr. Wayne," she stuck her hand out for him to shake. Tim looked handsome himself. His hair was slicked back, just like Bruce used to wear. He wore a black suit with the exception of a red and golden tie. Someone not from Gotham easily could have mistaken the two of them as a matching couple.

"Ms. (L/N)," Tim shook her hand. He felt like he was stuttering over his words. "I thought you weren't coming."

"I was convinced," she answered. Tim wasn't sure if it was because of himself or someone else. Either way, he was glad that she came - and that he was able to see her in such a beautiful gown. "This is quite the event that you have. Beautiful."

"So are you," he blurted out. She glared at him, worried that someone had heard his comment. Tim felt his face flare up with embarrassment and anxiety. She looked beautiful, and he felt like a fool for not being able to pull himself together. "Uh, thank you. For coming, and for the donation. It means a lot to me for you to be here."

"I'm not here for long, Mr. Dr - Wayne," she took a sip of her champagne. In fact she didn't want to be there at all. As soon as she walked through the doors and all eyes were on her she wanted to leave immediately. If she was going to make it through that night at all, she was going to need more than one glass of the champagne.

"Well, while you are, may I have this dance?" Tim stuck his hand out for her to grabs so he could lead her to the ballroom floor. She hesitated. Pictures. News. Media. Gossip. She hated the thought of it all. This past week had been focused on getting her attention away from silly rumors like this. All that work was going to be washed away if she accepted his offer.

It felt like everyone was staring daggers at her. She could feel the eyes of everyone in that room. Tim never asked people to dance, and he was asking her the second that she walked through that door. It was going to make the headline, and she was sure that it wasn't going to be the one she wanted.

To her surprise, she accepted. Her hand rested in his palm and she set her half empty glass down on a nearby table. Just as she expected, everyone watched as he led you to the dance floor. Flash of cameras, murmurs of people talking to one another. After four years of not showing up - within the first ten minutes she was already dancing with her worst enemy.

Tim's hand was hot against her waist. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, remembering just how those hands touched her only a few nights ago. Now was not the time to be thinking about it, but she couldn't help the burning feeling of desire rake through her. Why did he have to affect her like this?

"Ignore them," Tim whispered. He assumed she was suddenly anxious of the others, not that she was suddenly wanting to rip his clothes off. She met his eyes, baby blues that always seemed to find some sort of hidden emotion that she tried to keep down. "Why'd you come?"

"Would you believe me if I said I came here to sabotage you?" She raised an eyebrow. Tim suddenly spun her around. Her back was against his chest and her arms crossed over her body. She would have been fine if it wasn't for his tight grip on her wrists. The same grip that held her in place as he fucked her.

"Not for a second," he smiled. Tim twirled her back around to their original pose. She wasn't sure if he knew exactly what he was doing to her. "I know you better than you'd like to admit."

It was true. She hated how well he knew her. When it came to what she was truly feeling, the way that she thought things through, he even knew more about her family than anyone else. He was in every theoretical way, her best friend. It didn't stop her from hating him just enough to keep it to themselves.

"Mr. William thought I should come," she told him truthfully. "I had no intentions of showing up." Tim twirled her again, this time resting his hand on the small of her back so she wouldn't fall. His touches were innocent, but she couldn't stop thinking about when they weren't.

"Can I give you a reason to stay?" Tim questioned. His eyes darted down her body. When looking back to you, his iris' darkened with lust. It seemed to be more than that. The hint of innocence that speckled his face led her to believe that this time, he wanted more than a hook up, he wanted a connection. It made her falter.

Before she could answer, Tim dipped her. The slit in her dress showed off her entire leg as it brushed against his. His grip on her was tight, not daring to let her fall in anyway. Tim was close, too close. She could feel the warmth of his breath fan against her cheek. She was frozen, too in awe of his beauty to move.

The flash of a camera snapped him out of it. Tim pulled her back up to his level and cleared his throat. That was far too intimate with that many people around. She tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze. He pulled her close once more, continuing their dance.

"There's a couple ideas that come to mind, Mr. Wayne," she chided. In that moment, there was nothing more that (Y/N) wanted than to feel the heat of his hands over her naked body. Maybe it was her own thoughts that were making her uncomfortable in a crowded room rather than the people themselves.

"I hate being called Mr. Wayne," Tim muttered. She knew that - he expressed it to her quite often. Even Mr. Drake just filled him with dread. It only reminded him of his father. "I hate these gala's. They were never my thing, when I was a kid. Hosting them is even worse. I always hoped you'd come to make it more bearable."

"You know why I didn't," she sighed. Throughout their years, there were times that she didn't come simply because she wanted to keep the act up. Others, there were times that there was no need for an act. Tim genuinely infuriated her sometimes. He made choices that effected her company and sometimes herself personal.

As good friends as they were, there was always some hatred in her heart. These past few months seemed to have been different. Longer times spent together, untold secrets. They were closer than every, and yet it still felt like they were miles apart.

Tim suddenly pulled her completely flush against him. His hand rested dangerously close to the curve of her ass. A nearby couple had nearly bumped into them, and would have had he not pulled her in. Unfortunately, it just made her lust of him even more. A few strands of his gelled hair fell down, making him look like the young man that he truly was.

"People are staring," She whispered as he didn't let her leave his hold. The sexual tension between them had to have been evident to everyone in that room. (Y/N) wasn't nearly a good enough actor to make it seem like she wasn't trying to jump him - she just hoped that he was.

"Let them," Tim told her confidently.

"Tim," she sternly spoke. He heaved out a breath of air and let her make a space between them once more. Instantly, he missed her body against his. "Think you can steal a few of those champagne bottles and bring them home?"

"I don't think it'd qualify as stealing if I'm the one who bought them," Tim raised his eyebrows at her sudden request. He watched her eye up one of the trays full of glasses as a waiter walked by. "Why?"

"Grab us a bottle each and I'm all yours for the night. Completely yours, whatever you wish to do."

taglist:  @unknowntoanyone @willieoo @kindashittywriter @subtleappreciation @yandereforyou @pricetagofficial @because-icanhide @magicisabluewish @hyp-oh-critical @littleredwing89 @boy-georgina @sparkleofpizza @craptainlou @timtimmersdrake @hauntingsonofrobin @anothertimdrakestan @idkmanicantenglish @vvipgot7be @psych0crybaby @theconfusedpansexualbitch @spiitfiires

[allsassnoclass]

I'm indecisive and can't help myself but don't feel like you have to write both of them!! How about "I did that annoying thing where I put loads of smaller boxes inside one big box and you’re getting really mad but you don’t know that the ring is in the smallest box and I can’t wait to see your face” with Lashton? -blackbutterfliescal💛

@blackbutterfliescal heck yeah a lashton proposal! alright let’s do this

Ficmas Day 5

Rating: teen and up

Read on AO3

On Christmas, Luke wakes before Ashton.  Typically Ashton is out of bed before he is, preparing coffee and occasionally breakfast, so Luke savors these quiet moments with both of them comfortable here together, Ashton peacefully still.  The air around them is cold, but under the covers it’s warm, body heat trapped in a cocoon made from the comforter.  Luke shifts, sliding closer to Ashton so they’re pressed together again after separating during the night, and sighs contentedly.  His pajama pants twist uncomfortably, but he manages to put things to rights without elbowing Ashton awake or having to ruin their warm little bubble.

Luke lets Ashton’s steady breathing lull him back to sleep, easily slipping into unconsciousness again.  When he wakes for the second time, Ashton is shifting, preparing to leave.  With Ashton, once he wakes up he can’t drift back off.  It’s why Luke is more often than not the last one in bed in the morning, but today he’s determined to get a few minutes enjoying the morning together in the bedroom.

“Hey,” Ashton chuckles softly when Luke wraps an arm around him to keep him in place, burying his face against his shoulder.  “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he mumbles.

“Are you going to let me go?” Ashton asks.  “I can start coffee and cinnamon rolls, then we can do presents.”

Luke shakes his head.

“You want to stay here all day?”

Luke nods.

Ashton shifts until they’re facing each other.  Luke squints at him.

He hates waking up in the morning.  Once he’s up and moving it’s fine, but the transition from sleep to functional human being is one he makes while kicking and screaming.  It’s easier when Ashton is there to drag him along.

Ashton leans forward and kisses his nose.  Luke scrunches it, and Ashton relents to give him a quick kiss on the lips instead.  Luke presses forward, extending the moment as long as he can until Ashton leans back.

“Are you going to make me drag you out of bed, or can you find the way to the living room by yourself?” he asks.  Luke pouts, but in the end the promise of Christmas morning with Ashton has him relenting.  Ashton stops in the bathroom and Luke commandeers the comforter, draping it over his shoulders like a cape and padding to the kitchen.  Petunia appears, trotting at his heels, and he ensures her food and water is full before turning on the coffee.  When Ashton joins him, he breaks open a can of premade cinnamon rolls and puts them on a baking sheet, ready to be popped in the oven.

“You look cozy,” Ashton says.  Luke opens his blanket-cape enough to let him in, wrapping himself around Ashton like a koala with very little intention of letting him go.  It makes moving to the living room more difficult, so they stand in the kitchen until Luke feels marginally more awake.

There are two stockings on the mantle, each filled with candy and knicknacks.  Petunia has her own stocking with rawhide bones and toys sitting on her favorite chair, and Luke rips through the packaging on a bone and gives it to her, content to have her dooling happily all over the couch while he and Ashton sort through their own gifts.  All of Ashton’s presents are either precisely wrapped and adorned with a bow or simple newspaper taped together with masking tape.  He oscillates wildly between needing things to look good and not caring about presentation, whereas Luke at least made an effort with all of his wrapping, although his corners aren’t as crisp and there are a few times where he started using a sheet that was too small and had to tape overlapping panels.

There’s one gift at the back of the tree that Luke has been trying not to fixate on.  Ashton has set himself up closest to the tree, appointing himself as the person handing out the presents, and Luke’s thankful that he hasn’t reached for it yet, distracted by everything closer within reach.  Between snacking on the cinnamon rolls and drinking coffee they open kitchen supplies, clothing items, books, vinyl records, personalized drumsticks, guitar picks, necklaces, and a weird ceramic rooster that Ashton hadn’t been able to stop laughing at when they were exploring an antique shop together.

He threatens to put it in their bedroom.  Luke suggests they find a way to sneak it into Calum and Michael’s house instead, and Ashton’s eyes light up.

Eventually, however, there are no other presents left.  Ashton reaches for the box, causing Luke’s stomach to clench violently.

“It’s light,” Ashton says when he picks it up.  It’s big, something that Petunia could easily fit in with room to spare, and the wrapping on the outside is red with mistletoe boughs on it.  Luke had been careful with this one, ensuring crisp folds and not overusing the tape.  Ashton comments on it as he opens, but once the cardboard has been revealed and he sees the contents inside, he frowns.

“It’s another box,” he says, taking it out, silver wrapping paper glinting in the light.  Luke hums, because obviously he knows what’s in the present, and Ashton narrows his eyes.

“Are there going to be more boxes?” he asks.

“Why don’t you open this one and find out?”

Ashton surveys him for a moment longer.  Luke hopes he doesn’t appear as nervous as he really is, guts swirling in a hurricane of anxiety and anticipation.

This box houses another one the size of a shoe box and wrapped in green stripes.  Luke outsourced to Michael and Calum for more wrapping paper, wanting each layer to be different.

“Luke, how many fucking boxes are there?” Ashton asks.

“Um,” he says.

The next box has snowmen on it.  The next, little Christmas trees.  Ashton frowns deeper with each one, frustration apparent in how aggressively he tears at the paper.

“Luke,” Ashton says, holding that box up.  “If there is another box in here, I’m breaking up with you.”

Luke bites his lip.

The last box has no wrapping, only a black velvet frame.  Luke watches him freeze, then take it gingerly in his hands.  Luke clears his throat.

“I, uh, don’t want you to break up with me?”

“Okay,” Ashton says slowly.  “I won’t.”

“Can you give it to me?”

Luke untangles his upper body from the comforter, taking the offered box.  Ashton stares at him, waiting for an explanation, no doubt, but Luke finds that all of his words have dried up.

“I had a speech,” he says.

“I’m sure it’s good,” Ashton says.

“I can’t remember it.”

“Okay,” Ashton says.

“But I love you.  That was the most important piece,” Luke says.

“I love you, too.”  Ashton smiles at him, something comfortable and familiar.  It’s a small form of encouragement that he’s been giving him since they met, a smile boosting him before each performance, interview, and every difficult task in between.  He’s a safety net that Luke can always fall back on.

“I want to see you smile like that for the rest of our lives,” Luke says.  “I want to spend my life with you.  I want to marry you.”

He opens the box, gold ring standing stark against the black it’s resting in.  He flips it around so Ashton can see.

“Will you marry me?” he asks.

“Luke,” Ashton says, shuffling forward until he’s kneeling right in front of him, hands resting on his thighs. “Baby, of course I’ll marry you.  I love you more than anything else in the world.”

“Even when I wrap the ring inside lots of other boxes and make you open all of them?”

Ashton laughs.

“Yeah, even then.  Especially then if it ends with us engaged.”

Luke leans forward and kisses him.  Ashton’s hands come up to frame his face, cradling him gently until they’re both smiling too much to continue.

“I think you owe me a ring,” he whispers when they part.

Luke fumbles with the box, finally getting the ring out and taking Ashton’s hand.  It fits perfectly, a simple thing that will blend in with any other rings he wears but that carries more meaning.  Ashton admires it, then turns his gaze back to Luke.

“Thank you,” he says.  “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh, that was part of my speech!” Luke says.  “I was going to say that being with you is a never-ending present that I’m grateful to unwrap every day.”

“Will you tell me the rest of the speech if you remember?” Ashton asks.

“Of course,” Luke says.  “I have it written down in one of my journals.”

He starts to get up, but this time Ashton is the one to stop him from rising, blocking his path from the couch.

“It can wait,” Ashton says.  “Right now I just want to enjoy the moment.  Let me into your blanket fort?”

Luke untangles his legs from the comforter, letting Ashton into his bubble once again.  Ashton fits himself against Luke with practiced ease, both of them perfectly suited to each other.

“Luke Hemmings, you are a gift to the world,” Ashton says.  “Thank you for choosing me to spend the rest of your life with.”

“There’s no one else I would want.”

Ashton’s ring is cold when he cups Luke’s jaw, bringing their lips together again.  Ashton may be the one who got the ring, but Luke thinks he got the best present this year.

[lezliefaithwade]

A Breath of Fresh Air

The summer after my first year of theatre school, I was sleeping on the living room floor of my cousin's apartment in Toronto, trying to figure out what to do with my life. My cousin had been an actor before he became a quadriplegic in a car accident, and as I unadvisedly bemoaned my unemployment status, he said something like, "Seriously? You're complaining about your life? Don't make me burst a colostomy bag." He was right, of course. I wasn't in a wheelchair, though I did have a stepmother who had rendered me homeless because of her dislike for me. She was always saying things like, "Your hair can't be as ugly as that hat you're wearing." Or simply refusing to invite me to things like Christmas dinner. I always admired people with families. My boyfriend at the time was one of five kids who were always doing things together. Their house was always full of noise and activities. Even as a shiksa, I felt more at home there than with my stepbrothers and sisters, who never lost an opportunity to point out that I was weird. I wanted to stand up to them, but not wanting to cause my father any grief, I held my tongue and sought refuge elsewhere. It occurred to me that perhaps I was using the theatre as an opportunity to say things through characters that I couldn't find the courage to express myself.

The Toronto Star was still open on the kitchen table, and I rummage through the Want Ads, that dirty part of the newspaper near the back where complete strangers will soon become complete assholes in your life by forcing you to work menial jobs in humiliating uniforms for minimum wage.

"Find anything?" my cousin called from the bedroom, where two attendants helped wash and dress him.

"Social services are advertising for camp councilors to work with emotionally challenged kids."

"Oh yeah," He said. "That might suit you."

I'm not sure I knew what he meant but, I was beginning to think I'd outgrown my welcome. My cousin probably would have encouraged me to join the circus if the option had been available. Knowing my living room days were numbered, I thought it best to make an effort and apply.

I had no experience teaching drama—no experience working with kids and no experience going to or working at a camp. Despite all that, I was hired. It's worth noting that it's probably not a good sign if you get a job with no qualifications whatsoever.

My official position was Drama Councillor, and I prided myself that with only a year and half of theatre training behind me, I was well equipped to help others benefit from the wealth of my experience. I imagined myself, Maria Von Trapp, teaching children how to sing while they looked at me adoringly. Somehow, I conveniently blocked out the rebellious early stages she experienced and skipped straight to the good parts. Also, I might add, forgetting about the Nazis and having to climb over a mountain. Still, visions of me biking around camp with a group of happy campers behind me filled me with a sense of self-satisfaction.

As I packed my knapsack with deet and a secret stash of Twinkies, I thought of how only three weeks earlier I'd been in New York walking through Central Park and savoring Cappuccinos at outdoor cafés on Columbus. Now, here I was, ready for something different. The wilderness, I imagined, would be a welcome change—fresh air and loons instead of smog and sirens. I thought smugly about my classmates sweating behind visors at take-out windows shoveling fries into cardboard cups or wrapping sandwiches in tinfoil. Thumbs up to adventure, I told myself. The fact that I'd never once in my life enjoyed the great outdoors didn't factor into my mind. All of this changed with each accumulated minute of the 391 Kilometer drive north.

It was late afternoon when I arrived at the compound. Overcast, sullen, it was a place so secluded you'd need flares to find it. It had that distinct aura of someplace time forgot. A place left behind and neglected. In the brochure, the sun was shining, flowers filled the meadow, and you could practically hear laughter floating off the page. What I was looking at bore more of a resemblance to a situation in a Stephen King novel where camp councilors discover a pack of hungry teenage zombies have lured them to a seemingly idyllic retreat. Situated right in the heart of black fly country, I spent most of my days swatting insects so big they seem Jurassic.

During our orientation, child care workers warned us that children with mental health needs tend to run away - a lot and to keep strict attendance records and all eyes on them at all times. "These kids are resourceful and clever," they cautioned. I couldn't imagine being so determined you'd risk your life by escaping through the woods that surrounded us, but then again, I'd never been around children who weren't allowed cutlery before either

I shared my cabin with three other women with who I had absolutely nothing in common. Delia, a humorless 27-year-old cooking instructor who answered every question with a monosyllabic grunt, Jennifer, a 26-year old tennis instructor with massive blond ringlets who talked so quickly she sounded like a record on high speed, and an older aboriginal woman named Sunny who made us all dream catchers and offered advice about how to heal ourselves on days when we'd feel spent. "Remember, these kids need us," she said while purifying our cabin with sage. As I glanced around my assigned bunk, taking in the spider webs and loose floorboards, I had that sinking feeling that comes when you know you've made a terrible mistake. Before long, I was eating copious amounts of peanut butter on stale bagels amid a never-ending supply of starch. I'm not sure who thought it was a good idea to feed children with challenges like anxiety, depression, hyperactivity, and eating disorders copious amounts of sugar and carbs. It certainly did nothing to help them or me.

On the first day of class, I sat everyone in a circle. "Welcome to drama class," I said with a smile. "Let's begin by sharing with everyone a little bit about ourselves. Anything at all you'd like us to know?" A hand went up.

"I'm Tracy, and I hate my stupid ass brother. He can go straight to hell."

"Okay," I said, "That's a start. Who's next?"

Another hand. "I'm Jonathan, and this place sucks so much I wish it would burn to the ground!"

"Fair enough. Anyone else?"

"I'm Jo. I'm schizophrenic. So sometimes I'm Rachel and Julia. You'll know the difference because Rachel has a British dialect, and Julia talks slang."

"O-kay." I glanced at the social workers who sat on the edge of the room and looked at me with an expression that basically said, "We can't wait to see what you do next."

"Let's write a play," I suggested. "Write anything you want. Once you're happy with the work, I'll shape it into a cohesive piece that we'll rehearse and then present at the end of the season talent showcase."

The kids liked this idea. The showcase was a big deal. It was an opportunity for them to blow off some steam and express themselves to friends and family in a creative way. My only stipulation was not to use profanity. As the weeks passed, I was impressed with how well they all threw themselves into this project—all except Eric, the oldest boy in my 12 to 15-year-olds. Eric often wandered around the rehearsal space, unfocused and sullen.

"Any ideas for your piece?" I ask, checking in to see if I could help.

"I'm thinking," he'd say and then pace.

With three weeks left in the summer, I took my well-deserved week off to decompress. My boyfriend came up from Toronto and drove me to his parent's house at Post and Bayview, where caterers were preparing the tennis courts for an outdoor party. I walked into his mother's living room, and she gasped. "What happened to you?"

I didn't blame her. I hadn't spent much time looking at a mirror the past four weeks, but one glance at the large one in their bathroom told the full story. My hair was ratty; I had scabs on my knees, bruises on my arms and legs, and I was sunburnt. I was wearing a vintage skirt and blouse that was probably more Value Village than vintage and a pair of worn, scuffed purple moccasins; in essence, I was wearing slippers on my feet.

"Please take her to the mall and at least buy her a pair of shoes," his mother said, handing me her credit card and then rushing off to make sure the stuffed alligator would float in the pool. That week I ate my way through rugelach, hamantaschen, brisket, and bagels while his family watched me with awe and disgust.

Back at camp, the smell of burning insect repellent greeted me along with the news that the sailing and tennis instructors were sacked for disorderly conduct. Never mind, I had renewed energy and a sense of purpose. There were costumes and props to make. Sound and lighting effects to create. And we needed to rehearse. It was only a tiny stage somewhere on a remote camp in Northern Ontario, but the excitement was palpable. I was excited. This would be the best talent show ever, and my kids were going to blow the socks off everyone there!!!

"Eric," I said, "How's your piece coming along?"

"I finished it," he mentioned casually

"That's great. Can I see it?"

"I want to surprise you. You're going to love it, though. I promise."

I patted myself on the back. Eric had a breakthrough. All my encouragement and patience had paid off. Perhaps I'd helped him have a developmental breakthrough.

"Can you tell me what it's about?" I asked.

"The Beatles."

"Great. Okay," and left it at that.

Talent Night arrived along with parents and family friends. The lights dimmed, the kids performed, and the audience enthusiastically applauded as each "Mighty Mite" or "Spirit of Paradise" breezed across the stage, acting out skits about fairies and monsters and assorted escapades. Finally, it was Eric's turn. Out he came, looking serious and theatrical. He cleared his throat and addressed the audience.

"This is called, The Beatles Last Recording Session. By, Me."

Three of his closest camp friends filed out and took a space on the stage. The audience was silent.

There was a dramatic pause, then the piece began.

"Fuck you, Ringo,"

"Fuck you, Paul."

"Fuck you, George."

"Well fuck you, John."

Then they bowed and left the stage.

Personally, I thought it was kind of brilliant. Needless to say, I wasn't showered with accolades about my teaching methods or the effect I had on kids. I left there having no catharsis about mental health except that giving people the opportunity to express themselves without censor is probably a lot healthier than insisting they stay quiet. I admired the honesty displayed in the kid's work. If only, I thought to myself, I could be half as brave. Wasn't that what I was spending time and money learning how to do?

A week after being home, I found myself packing, once more, for school in New York. Our term letters had arrived with instructions on where to buy character shoes, leotards, copies of The Children's Hour, and Death of a Salesman. The camp already felt like it was 391 kilometers away - soon to be 659. My father drove me to the train station with my stepmother beside him; she was there, no doubt, to ensure I boarded.

"You going to be okay?" my father asked, giving me a hug and slipping a $50 bill into my pocket.

"She'll be fine." Elsie chimed in. "You don't have to worry about her. Let's go."

But I wanted my father to worry about me. Not all the time and to the exclusion of all else, but certainly the appropriate fatherly amount.

As I settled myself on the train, I watched my stepmother pull from father from the platform to the car and thought of Eric's brilliant play. Under my breath, I whispered the immortal words of the Beatles, "Fuck you."

#stepmother #mental health #children #young people #summer camp

[justanotherlifeff]

Levi Ackerman × reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, matured themes, slowburn

Warning: There's mentions and descriptions of underage rape and suicidal themes and self harm and other triggering stuff.

(Y/N) POV

The wind made my hair fly vigorously. It has gotten longer and I probably will have to cut it. I'll ask Levi if he prefers it long or not. I could see the wall in the distance as we galloped towards it. Wall Rose, our home. The winter was almost over, the snow will melt by the next month. As soon as we give the news of our success in eradicating all titans in Wall Maria, the refugees would start preparing to go back. That would take about a month and everyone would start moving out by spring.

A month will also be required for the Garrison to start cleaning the bodies out. They would do it as soon as we bring the news of success. The two teams that were surveying the inner walls reached near Trost in formation as soon as we were near the door. "You all wait a second. I'll take a briefing from them." I told my squad before going towards the survey corps squad. Being the squad leader of one of the four commanding squads gave me a certain amount of power in the scout regiment.

[Author's note: The ranking of the survey corps is pretty vague, so I made my own version. Before Erwin's death, Levi was the captain, Hanji was the section commander, Mike Zacharias and Dita ness were two high rank squad leaders. The four of them made the commanding squads, the squads that held a certain amount of power over all other squads. Levi and Hanji's ranking held a similar amount of power, only, Hanji was Erwin's successor to commander and Erwin's right hand. Levi held the same amount of power on other squads as Hanji but he wasn't Erwin's successor. Mike Zacharias and Dita ness held equal power on other squads as eachother but less than Hanji and Levi. Now, Hanji is commander but Levi is still captain. Hanji didn't choose a section commander yet, so there are three remaining high rank squad leaders including (Y/N).]

"Oi! How are things here? Any deaths or titans spotted?" I asked the squad leader. "No Squad leader (Y/N). No titans were spotted and no one died. It seems like all of them were killed in the last expedition." The squad leader replied. "Good. I'll be off then." I told him before returning to my squad. The lifts were already lowered. I led my horse to the horse lift and stepped in the other one with my squad. We will be going back to Wall Maria and beyond the walls soon. Maybe we would get to see the ocean that Armin talked about. There were so many possibilities even if the entire world was our enemy.

The people of Trost welcomed us in. I was happy to give them the news that I just got from the squad outside the wall. I gave my squad the permission to do whatever they wanted for now before travelling towards the Capital Mitras to give the supreme commander the news of no enemy being spotted in Shiganshina. It was highly unlikely that the others would spot any enemy either. I reached Mitras at night to find that Levi, Hanji and Mikasa were there too. We all reached at the same time. As I got down from my horse at the stable, Levi approached me. "(Y/N), I need to talk to you in private." he told me, giving a brief look towards Mikasa and Hanji, who were also at the stable.

"Well, we will go report to the supreme commander. I'll tell him you two will be there shortly." Hanji briefly told Levi after I nodded at him. Levi took me behind the stable in an empty corridor and before I could say anything, he kissed me. I didn't hesitate kissing back either because I missed him. I wish I didn't have to face Uncle Erwin alone. After a somewhat long and passionate kiss, Levi broke it and touched his forehead on mine, our eyes still closed. "I was worried." he muttered. I understood how he felt. He wasn't too good with words but I knew how he felt.

"I'm here. I'll always be here" I whispered to him. To that, he pulled me in a tight hug. The warmth of his hug made me struggle to keep myself from falling asleep while standing because I was exhausted. I didn't get any sleep on the wall as I was constantly worried about getting ambushed. After all, I made a promise. "Levi, I'll tall asleep if you hug me any longer. I'm really tired." I muttered to him and he pulled away. "Well, let's report to Zackly." Levi answered to that and we headed towards the building.

The supreme commander seemed happy with our reports and even offered us wine which we politely declined. We had to get back to Farlan and just go home to take some rest. Levi offered that we could take a wagon in case if I felt too tired but I avoided it as I had no intention to sleep on a hard piece of wood and every intention to pass out on a comfy bed with Levi's arms around me. By the time we reached Trost with Farlan, it was dawn. We knew that we would get a day off and I ordered my squad to look after Farlan for a while so that Levi and I could get our well deserved rest. The month passed quicker than expected. The survey corps and Garrison declared Wall Maria to be titan free.

The Garrison was in charge of cleaning up the mess of Shiganshina and repairing all housing. Whatever remains left of the fallen soldiers in Shiganshina were collected and given a mass burial back in the army burials of Capital Mitras. Everyone got a combined headstone. Uncle Erwin's body was also recovered and as the 13th commander of the survey corps, he received a separate grave. I finally had the chance to give Uncle Erwin a proper funeral.

Many civilians showed up at the funeral, a rather modest one without much arrangements for food or refreshments. They didn't care though. He was that one person that made many notable achievements for humanity...or just our kingdom of Paradis. We wouldn't have known that we weren't alone, the extent of how strong our enemies are without his help. The entire survey corps were there, along with many from the Garrison and some from the military police, all in their uniform. Only civilians dressed in black. The funeral went through the standard army procedure, we all saluted to the great man who attained the respect of all his comrades.

After the army procedure was done, everyone was allowed to come forward and speak a few words about Uncle Erwin. Historia was the first to go as queen. She mentioned how Uncle Erwin allowed her to land the final blow on Rod Reiss, her father. How he was concerned but believed in her. The Supreme commander went next and told of his experience on dealing with the cunning commander. How Uncle Erwin never failed to impress him and how he thought Uncle Erwin was a very interesting man. Pixis was called after that and he did something that I never expected.

"Erwin Smith was a man who I knew I could trust as we saw eye to eye on most matters. He helped me out in various occasions and I don't think I have quiet paid the debt back. You see, many years back, I found out that I had a daughter. A man needs some release at times and I made the mistake of going underground for it. I didn't know about her till it was too late. She was found at an underground brothel, almost sold off, during a survey corps raid. I think all of you have a fair idea about who I am talking about at this point.

Yes, (Y/N), also known as the strongest woman in humanity, though that title brings serious doubts now given that there are people living in the world besides us, she is my daughter. I could've taken her back then but seeing how much of a terrible father I have been, I decided she would be better off in a family. I was wrong and everyone knows the rest. I never intended for her to find out about me but she did and I decided I should face reality instead of trying to hide behind the walls I made for myself. As the commander of the Garrison, I do have the tendency of not crossing the walls. Erwin took really good care of (Y/N) when I wasn't present. The (L/N) couple were a good fit for her but as much as I know, (Y/N) spent more time with Erwin, training, reading... Erwin helped her grow as a person, something that I should have done. I'm always going to be thankful towards Erwin for taking care of my daughter and there was no way to pay him back. That's all." he said.

Levi POV

I personally was surprised by the fact that Pixis came clean about (Y/N) in front of the public. Did he drink too much? He must have drank too much. (Y/N) looked equally as surprised as I did. The reporters from the newspapers had a new glint to their eyes. We would have to deal with their shit after the programme is over. Thankfully, Hanji, who was in charge of arranging the programme, got the situation under control and gave Nile Dok a chance on the stage. No one really cared about his cadet corps days with Erwin after what Pixis mentioned. It was Hanji's turn after him and then it was my turn. I got up, went to the stage and started talking.

"Erwin Smith found me when I was in a very shitty position in life. He took me in the military, helped me get a better life. I can't be thankful enough for that. He was a man who never thought a second time before throwing away lives for humanity as we knew back then, but perhaps, if he didn't become a demon among the normal people, we wouldn't have known the truth of the world now. I personally decided that it was time for him to rest that day in Shiganshina because we pushed the man into becoming a ruthless soldier, someone who wasn't allowed to have feelings. I knew how hard that was after I met my wife. He didn't deserve it, no, we didn't deserve a man like him." I ended my speech before returning to my seat next to (Y/N). It was her turn now. I gave her a reassuring look as she headed towards the stage. The crowd, as well as the reporters seemed much more eager about listening to her speech.

"Well, I had a speech written down but seems like I won't be using that. Commander Pixis stated how my childhood was already and I wouldn't comment much on that but I would definitely say that Erwin Smith, the man who was like a father figure to me, made me see hope in this cruel world countless times. He trained me to defend myself, he introduced me to my love towards reading, he was the reason I kept on living after everything was taken from me. He might not be alive today but his memories live on. The day I saw his dead body for the first time, I realized that the body was only a proof that he lived. What mattered most was his contribution towards all of our lives, specially mine." (Y/N) stated, her face etched into a light frown but stoic nonetheless.

The other speeches were dull and uninteresting. That was until a civilian mentioned that his brother, someone who died on the mission to retake wall Maria, had felt how Erwin felt during the 57th expedition. I remembered that one, I gave him Petra's batch after he lost his friend trying to recover another friend's body.

"Levi, you couldn't have had his friend's batch." (Y/N) mentioned in a low tone beside me. "Yes I know." I answered, curious about why she seemed angry. "I saw you take Petra's batch. Was that her's?" (Y/N) asked, her tone sounding more sad than angry. "Yes. It was her's. Are you okay?" I asked (Y/N), concerned about her. "Why did you take her batch? You told me you didn't have feelings for her..." (Y/N) muttered, looking down at her hands. "(Y/N), I didn't have feelings for her. I never did and never will do. I felt guilty that the last conversation I had with her was the one where I rejected her. I felt like I should have changed her squad instead of giving her a chance. I thought about changing her squad too. I felt like she died because of me and I needed to give her father something that belonged to her. Something other than her dead body. That's all there was to it." I explained. "Oh" she answered, with a hint of smile on her face. She still didn't regret her death did she?

One Month later

The refugees returned to their newly repaired and cleaned homes in Wall Maria. Farlan was three months old now and if we thought his crying was bad enough before, it was like living in hell now. I was always used to 3 hours of sleep a day but now, even I get sleep deprived. I'm never having children again. (Y/N) always manages to calm him down but the woman needs some sleep too. I feel bad for her sometimes and try to take care of Farlan but he keeps shrieking like a banshee. God knows what the fuck I do wrong. The expedition outside wall Maria was coming soon enough and my table was filled with stacks of paperwork.

Hanji was kind enough to give (Y/N) a comparatively less amount after she got baby sitting duty when (Y/N) and I had to go and talk to the nobles about expedition budget. Apparantly being the strongest soldiers among Eldians gave us some benefits. Other than that, we recently found out that (Y/N) had a talent of managing people. She probably got that from Pixis. This was discovered when (Y/N) was being interviewed by the newspaper reporters about the revelation by Pixis. (Y/N) answered their questions on point and as short and informatively as possible, without letting out too much or making it seem too mysterious thus getting rid of all the sudden public attention.

Hanji decided that she should go talk to those filthy nobles after that and I, of course, volunteered to go with her as I didn't want anyone else hitting on what's mine. We still lived at Trost, making an hour long travel to Shiganshina everyday, with (Y/N) strapping Farlan to her while going to work. She hated leaving Farlan out of sight except when we are in bed, which isn't happening too often as he seems to start shrieking every time (Y/N) leaves him alone. I understood why she did that though. She just wanted to make sure Farlan has the best childhood and is always cared for. That woman is the perfect mother. I'm not too sure about myself. The new headquarters were at Shiganshina, making it easier to travel out. The expedition was to take place next week.

One week Later

(Y/N) POV

We were standing on top of the wall, the lifts lowering our horses. Only the two special operations squads and Hanji were going on this expedition as no titans were spotted outside of the wall. Both Hanji and I had a theory that all the titans were already inside Wall Maria and we took care of them. Everyone except Levi and Hanji seemed excited to finally leave Wall Maria, and that included me even if I didn't show it off. Uncle Erwin's formation technique would be used so that we could avoid any titan, if any came into view. The plan for now was to go to the end of the island to ensure Eren's father's information were right or not. There must be the so called ocean at the end of the land. The plan after that was eradicating any remaining titan that were on this island and creating a base near the ocean so that Marleyans couldn't throw more titans in here.

Hanji was right. We didn't encounter any titan on our way. Just one which wasn't able to move. "That's one of our compatriots. Someone who'd been sent to 'heaven'. We're close. I'm sure of it." Eren stated before following Levi and galloping forward. After travelling a small distance, we came across a wall. A man made wall. "This is where the Eldians were turned into Titans." Eren stated again. We trotted past it and saw something that was utterly unbelievable. A huge blue wherever my eyes went. Water everywhere. As if it didn't have an end. This was the ocean.

Everyone was already in the ocean. My squad, Sasha, Connie and Jean were playing in the water. Armin stood in the water, looking at something near his feet while Eren was looking at the horizon. Mikasa was struggling to take her shoes off. Hanji was already experimenting and I was tempted to join her. However, it could be dangerous... "Woahhhh! Is this really all salt water?! Huh?! I see something!" she exclaimed and that was enough to catch my attention. I swiftly got my shoes off and went towards her. "What is it?" I asked her, curiosity clear on my face.

"Watch out, both of you. Don't touch it. It could be poisonous." Levi voiced my concerns. I wasn't going to touch it anyway. While Hanji fiddled with some black weird things, I looked over at Eren and the others. Mikasa and Armin were smiling but Eren had a melancholic expression. "I'll be back." I told Hanji and Levi and walked towards the trio. Mikasa and Eren were good friends, specially Mikasa. Armin was more of an intellectual competition to me but he had my respect too after everything that happened.

"And on the other side of the ocean is freedom. That's what I always believed. But I was wrong. It's enemies that are on the other side of the ocean. This is exactly as I saw in my old man's memories. Right? Those enemies on the other side of here, if we kill them all, does that mean we'll be free?" I overheard Eren. "They took everything from me too. I'd kill them at the first chance I get. We will have freedom and justice." I spoke from behind Eren. Eren chuckled at that and said, "You're the last person I expected to hear that from.". " Why is that?" I asked him, confused. "Well, I thought you didn't care about things like freedom or people." he answered.

"Well, seems like you were wrong. I would kill anyone who tries to harm my child. I would try my best to protect Levi. I do care. I cared about Uncle Erwin and I will help Levi keep his promise to kill that ape." I answered, my eyes murderous. "Uh.. I thought we were having fun?" Armin meeked in, looking slightly intimidated. So much for the colossal titan. "Yes, I'll leave you to that, I answered before going back to Levi. He didn't get into the water. Clean freak... I held his hand as I looked into the horizon. When he looked at me and raised an eyebrow, I gave him a smile and squeezed his arm. He awarded me with a smirk before looking at the horizon himself. We looked at our squads having fun. This was only a calm before the storm but I, (Y/N) Ackerman, can tell you that I have never been happier.

To be continued in your imagination....

Taglist: @reality-is-often-disappointing, @kingtamakimurder

[woossexyponytail]

Shadow Born, Chapter 6 Reborn Ritual.

Masterlist.

I asked San to meet me at the out stretch of the forest behind the house, I sighed I have two more hours until San and I have to meet. I'm not looking forward to the talk about the ritual.

"Why do you keep on sighing? It's annoying!" Yunho said glearing over at me as we sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast. I stuck my tongue out at him as I carried on ignoring him.

"Ynnnn? Don't ignore me! Auntie! Yn is ignoring me!" Yunho whined at auntie as she read the newspaper, she hummed not really paying attention to him either, Yunho sighed slumping in his chair as I chuckled quietly.

Just then my phone that was on the table buzzed, Yunho quickly grabbed it from me reading the text that I just got, he read through it then gasped. He turned to me hand over his mouth.

"No, you didn't?!" He asked shocked, I rolled my eyes at him grabbing my phone from him and seeing who just text me, turning my phone back on because it turned off, I saw that San text me asking if we're still meeting a bit later.

I quickly texted him back saying yes while Yunho ran around the kitchen yelling that I had a date, auntie put her newspaper down watching Yunho run around. She chuckled again looking over at me and raised an eyebrow, I shrugged getting embarrassed as I sat back down.

"I can't believe your dating San, Wooyoung is going to be so upset" Yunho said settling back down and laughing, I shock my head at him explaining that it wasn't a date but I'm going to tell him about the ritual.

Yunho ohed at me as he quietly apologized to me for getting it wrong, I shrugged it off nor really caring what he thought.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

I made my way down to the forest Stolas ran after meowing, I didn't mind the company while I waited for san. After a few more minutes I saw San walking down to me, he had a shy smile as he stood infront of me.

"Hey, Um well this is creepy, are you going to kill me?" He asked chuckling as he looked around the forest, looking down at his feet Stolas was walking around his legs. San crouched down to stroke Stolas.

"He's reassuring you" I quietly laughed as San looked up over to me, I smiled at him, knowing he would be nervous "Don't worry, you wanted to know about the reborn ritual right?" I asked as San got up, he nodded.

"Then let's walk and talk" I said walking in to the forest San right next to me. "Well the reason the ritual is dangerous is because I would have to kill you to unleash your powers" I said getting right to the point.

"Wait what?" San stopped walking staring at me wide eyed, I nodded at him sighing. "Do you get why I won't do the ritual?" I asked, he nodded slowly.

"But your auntie said your the only one that can do it?" He asked getting confused. "Yes but it's dangerous San you need to understand, you need to really want it" I told him.

"I do!" He yelled standing infront of me holding my shoulders, looking right in my eyes. "I want you to do it, I trust you..Please" he said, I sighed looking down not wanting to give in so easily.

"Yn, I know nothing about my dad, if doing this ritual getting my powers back, means that I'm close to him then I want to do it" he explained, I looked back up seeing the pain in his eyes.

"I know the feeling, fine I'll do it, but you need to give me some time from me to practice" I told him sternly, San smiled brightly at me giving me a hug and thanking me over and over.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

I sat at my desk reading a couple of books that auntie gave me, the ritual was was simple thankfully, but Satan himself had to approve if San is worthy of the power, hopefully he is and there will be no complications.

Closing the book I leaned back in my chair rubbing my eyes out of stress, looking out the window I watched as a storm started to brew, listening to the wind pick up.

The door opened and looking up Yunho was standing there arms crossed, a soft expression on his face, walking in he sat on my bed, I raised my eyebrow at him not sure why he was here.

"Auntie told me your going to do the ritual for San, how's it going?" He asked, I looked over at him glearing "What do you think, I have to kill my friend then hope the dark lord thinks he is worthy then bring him back to life" I told him.

"That's rough, I'm glad I'm not doing it" Yunho said rubbing his head, I rolled my eyes at him, "Thanks for the support" I said sarcastically to him.

Yunho shrugged his shoulders at me then got up from my bed, heading over to the door and leaving. He stopped at the door turning around to look at me.

"You'll do fine, your hella powerful, believe in yourself, because I do and so does San" he told me a small smile on his lips as he walked off closing my door.

Stolas meowed at me from the window as the window smashed and a bird came crashing down on the floor. Running up to it Stolas already sniffing at the bird.

I looked at the bird then to Stolas he meowed at me again as I picked the now dead bird and carried it over to my window.

"This can not be good" I said leaving the bird by the window, I quickly fixed the window and opened it. I walked over to my bed ready to go to sleep, Stolas was pushing the bird with his paw as I called him over, running and jumping on the bed as I went to fall asleep.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

I walked down the stairs holding the dead bird from last night, bringing it to the kitchen Stolas running down with me, auntie and Yunho already there.

"A bird flew into my room last night. Smashed through one of my windows." I told them auntie looked around at me looking at the bird, Yunho sat up straight looking over at me.

"Oh, want me to bring it back?" He asked starting to stand up to grab the bird but auntie stopped him. "No, Yunho, we'll have none of your necromancy." She said, Yunho nodded then sat back down.

"Is it okay if I bury it in the garden?" I asked looking over at auntie, she turned around smiling sweetly at me "Yes of course" she said as I nodded and walked to the back garden.

Yunho came running after me a shovel in hand, we stopped at the forest as I put the bird down on the floor, Stolas and Salem sat next to the bird watching over it.

Yunho passed me the shovel, I grabbed it from him starting to dig a small hole for the bird, we all stayed in silence for a while, until Yunho spoke up.

"Penny Dreadful for your thoughts?" He asked noticing how quiet I was being, I picked up the bird and placed it down, looking over at Yunho he just stared at me waiting.

"I can't help but think this as a bad omen, what if this is a sign that I shouldn't do the ritual for San?" I asked getting upset, I looked down starting to put the dirt over the bird.

"Auntie told us that there are multiple meaning for different things, this doesn't have to mean death" he told me, I nodded at that

"True but I don't think anyone here is worrying about money, Are you?" I asked Yunho, he shrugged at me as he sat down on the grass.

"You never know, auntie might be worrying about something normal for once" he said laughing, I couldn't help but laugh with him. After burying the bird Yunho grabbed the shovel off me as we walked back to the house.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

The day has finally come where San and I would do the ritual, and I am beyond nervous, we walked in to the opening and told San to just stay there while I prepare the ritual.

Grabbing the salt I made a circle on the dirt and pouring the salt in to different symbols, I picked up the bag I brought with me and grabbing all the jars of blood that was from a deer I hot yesterday.

San looked pale as he watched me, looking up over to him I told him again he didn't have to do it, but he said he wouldn't back down now. I nodded going back to the symbols.

I told San to take his shirt off and lay in the middle of the the circle, San nodded and obeyed me, watching him lay down I breathed slowly calming my nerves.

Walking over to him the jars of blood surrounding him, he looked up at me smiling nervously, I moved down and sat on his lap his bare chest infront of me, San's hands grabbed around my knees know I would need my hands.

I nodded at him as he closed his eyes as he breathed deeply ready for me to start. I picked up one of the jars opening the lid and dipping my fingers in to the blood, writing down some Latin words on his chest and some symbols.

"Blood on the floor. Glamour and gauze. Stain on the glass. Make this the last.

Night that you're here. Bites on your neck. Can't dodge a hex. Show me respect. I see the death. I smell the fear. Don't be afraid. Just take my hand. Come follow me. I promise that. I'll take you there. Just you and me. Can't even breathe. Can't hear you scream." I chanted, I poured the last of the blood over his neck.

"One taste of blood is not enough to satisfy. Take your last breath and get a rush. Gotta die to feel alive. Sweet evil, come deliver us the sacrifice. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Gotta die to feel alive." And with that a cut made it's way across San's neck. San's body stopped moving his blood oozing out, checking his pulse his heart had stopped meaning San was dead.

Breathing in slowly I closed my eyes and placed my bloody hands on his head, making different symbols on his forehead, ready to carry on casting.

"Dawn of the dead. Blood, ruby red. Don't lose your head. Love when you beg. Love when you cry. Queen of the Damned. That which I am. Reborn again. I never end. I never die. Don't let me in. I see the sin. Under your skin. You can't escape. You can't deny. Seek and I find. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

"One taste of blood is not enough to satisfy. Take your last breath and get a rush. Gotta die to feel alive Sweet evil, come deliver us the sacrifice. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust Gotta die to feel alive." I yelled the last bit, looking up at the sky.

The wind picked up as I waited for Satan to approve of San, there were voices in the wind (dilver us) (not enough) kept on talking I breathed in again, I could feel tears running down my face, 'please I don't want San to die' I begged.

The wind stopped and all around me was silent, I looked down at San still not breathing, I started sobbing as I leaned down and hugged his face to my chest, blood going everywhere but I didn't care.

"PLEASE" I begged over and over my sobbing getting louder, I hated this I didn't want to do this and now San is dead because of me, "please don't be dead" I whispered, just then the wind picked up again and San started coughing.

Looking down at him he finally opened his eyes smiling weakly at me, jumped at him hugging him closer, San wrapped his arms around me pulling me even closer.

San turned around laying me on the floor him now on top, we were both cover in blood but I didn't care, I actually brought someone back from the dead, I was so happy.

"I knew you could do it" San said smiling down at me, I giggled at that relief washed over me seeing him completely fine. He then brushed a bit of hair out of my face, then leaned in.

Our lips so close to each others but for some reason neither of us took the step closer, San's head leaned on to mine, he sighed looking down.

"We should probably get cleaned up" he said, I nodded agreeing with him, San stood up and pulled me with him, I packed the stuff away with San's help.

As we started walking back to the house he stopped me before we entered. San turned to me another nervous smile on his face.

"Thank you for doing that" he told me I nodded saying it was nothing, San looked like he wanted to say something else, he leaned in again our lips finally meeting as we kissed, pulling away San followed my lips making me giggle.

San smiled sheepishly at me as we walked it to the house, I layed my hands over my cheeks a blush definitely showing, we both made are way to clean up.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

I got to my bathroom peeling off my bloody clothing and dropping it to the floor the blood spreading around the room, sighing I moved over to the shower and turning on the water, waiting for it to heat up.

The door behind me slowly opened, I quickly grabbed a towel covering myself as I watched with wide eyes as San stood at the door looking down at the floor.

"I..I Uh can I" San sighed walking in and closing the door behind him leaning against the door still covered in blood. Looking up at me I raised an eyebrow at him waiting for an answer.

San sighed looking up and rushed towards me pulling me in to a kiss, I dropped my towel wrapping my arms around his neck, San removed my arms as he quickly took off his shirt.

"Oh we're doing this are we?" I asked as my finger looped around his belt pulling him towards me, San chuckled as he put his hands on my neck pulling me back in for a deeper kiss.

My hands made busy work with his trousers as I undid his belt and unzipped his trousers pulling them down along with his pants, I pulled away looking down at him and pulled him to the shower.

Getting in the warm water hitting my back as I faced a now naked San, the blood running off our body's. Our lips connected again in to a messy kiss teeth and tongues colliding together, San's hands moving down to my butt as he squeezed.

My hands slowly moved down his chest and to his dick, my hand wrapped around him and moved slowly, San lips moved to my neck his hot breath making me shiver, I then felt his tongue lap behind my ear and start nibbling.

San hardern in my hands he then wrapped my arms around him again, his eyes glazed with lust his hands on my thighs as he pulled me up. My legs wrapped around his waist and my back hit the wall as he leaned in to me.

He's head rubbed against my entrance, he looked in to my eyes asking for permission, I nodded my head as he slowly entered me, moaning softly my head leaning back against the wall.

San pushed all the way in, I bit my lip in pleasure as my hands grabbed on to his hair pulling at it. Our body's pushed together as he slowly pulled out but not all the way.

San stopped looked at me our eyes connecting a smirk on his lips as he then slammed in to me hard, my mouth opened wide as I gasped out, San tongue went in to my mouth swirling our tongue together as he thrusted back and forth in to me.

My moaning muffled by his mouth as San's thrust got faster, he then lazily dragging his lips over my shoulder and biting down hard as his movements became more erratic.

"Fuck you feel so good" San mumbled as his hands moved my body fast with his, my nails digging in to his back as I scratched him, his only reply was a grunt.

I felt myself cuming as I clenched around him making San groan in to my skin getting fast, my mouth opening and closing wordlessly as I reached my climax. San could feel his orgasm rising and it only took a few more thrusts before he came too, pressing his fingers hard into the skin of my hips.

He leaned in to me as we both panted heavily. San slowly placed me down but holding me up so I wouldn't fall from my now jelly legs, San placed kisses everywhere he could reach.

"You know for just having a shower I don't really feel clean" I said giggling as I looked up at him, San placed his hand on my cheek, leaning in again for a deep kiss.

"That was the best shower ever" he said laughing as we both left the shower, I grabbed the towel from the floor wrapping it around me, I felt San's lips brush against my neck again. Humming at the feeling I turned around giving him a quick kiss, then left the bathroom with San still standing there naked.

[scarlct-vvitch]

hey I've never given a prompt before so I hope I'm doing it right, but I love your writing so I couldn't pass up on the opportunity :) "thanks for last night" "anything for you" no powers au?

behold, you are receiving a Stony no-powers au, where they’re both in their twenties.

Whenever Tony woke up in an unfamiliar place, it never ended well. The first time, it had been in some girl’s room from high school and he’d been chased out naked by her father and a baseball bat. Once, he’d woken up in a club the morning after partying and had had to pay all of the open tabs. His father had really liked that one.

At least this time it didn’t seem like he’d have to pay for anything. Or have to clean up any of his own bodily fluids–the bathtub he was in appeared to be clean. Oh, and he was in a bathtub because apparently fuck neck muscles, and oh my god he was hungover. He needed a drink.

Tony groaned and sat up, cracking his neck. He looked around the bathroom. It was tiny, out-of-date, and had no decoration other than a sketch of the city on the wall. It looked like an average apartment bathroom.

Suddenly, Tony heard some clanking from the kitchen. Was someone…making him breakfast? Coffee? Probably coffee; making breakfast for the guy passed out in your bathtub wasn’t a very common practice. 

Tony sighed. Time for the awkward ‘morning-after’ talk. Well, a version of it. Tony was fairly sure this wasn’t actually a one-night-stand, but more likely that someone took pity on his drunk ass and dumped him in the bathroom so he wouldn’t freeze to death in awful New York winter weather. Either way, it was probably time for him to walk-of-shame his way home.

After a minute of preparing himself to stand up while very, very hungover, Tony grunted and heaved himself to his feet with mild success. He paused for a second, making sure he wouldn’t throw up, then stepped out of the bathtub.

Well, he tried to. His foot caught on the edge of the tub and he ended up in a profanity-spewing heap on the floor. 

As he fell (and made a very loud thump), he heard a large crash from the kitchen, probably indicating that he had just scared the shit out of the owner of the apartment. To be honest, he didn’t really care.

Tony groaned and rolled over onto his back. The pounding in his head had seemed to double. This was officially the worst. 

Someone knocked on the door. “Tony?” a voice asked, unsure.

Tony froze. He knew that voice. “Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve answered, sounding even more unsure.

Tony heaved himself to his feet and opened the door. Sure enough, Steve was on the other side, in pajama pants and a tank top because life was unfair. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi.” Steve said back, and his grin was bright enough it made Tony’s head hurt more.

Tony drummed his fingers on the door frame. “So…I’m in your apartment.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, you are Got any idea how you got here?”

“Not even an inkling. Oh my god, do I smell pancakes?”

“You do.” Steve confirmed, turning and leading him to the kitchen. Tony eagerly followed. “So, would you like a play-by-play, or just a general summary?”

Tony shrugged and sat down at a kitchen table covered in newspapers and drawings. It was very obvious that Steve had just shoved everything onto one side so Tony would have somewhere to sit. Tony watched as he put two pancakes on a plate before handing it to Tony with a cup of coffee. Tony could have kissed him right then and there.

“Do whatever you want, you made me food.” Tony said, stabbing a pancake and taking the biggest bite he could out of it.

Steve laughed and perched on his kitchen counter with his plate, since he had no room left on the table. It gave Tony a nice opportunity to appreciate his arms.

“Well, in short, you drunk-called me.”

Tony froze mid-bite. “What?”

“Yeah, it went about as well as you’d think. You started singing to me at one point, actually.”

Tony tried to think back. “Sexyback?”

Steve nodded. “Yep. You’re quite the drunk singer.”

Tony nodded. This, he already knew. “Then what?”

“You proceeded to tell everyone in the bar you loved them, offered to pay all of their tabs, and that’s about when I decided to come pick you up.”

Tony winced. So he had ended up losing money. “Great.”

Steve grinned. “I actually managed to talk the bartender out of that one. She was nice.”

“Impressive. And appreciated.”

“Yeah, I’m making you buy me a Netflix account for it.”

Tony laughed; that sounded much more like Steve. “Fair enough. Is that it?”

Steve nodded. “Pretty much. That’s all I know, but that was also at two in the morning.”

Tony nodded; that probably meant something had gone wrong that he’d find out about in a week. He got up and started to wash off his plate, trying to ignore the surprised look on Steve’s face. It was the least he could do for Steve saving him from his stupid drunken self, after all. 

“What time is it?” he asked, more to distract himself than get the information.

“About ten. I don’t have work today, so you can hang out here if you want.” Steve answered, getting up to wash the rest of the dishes.

Tony smiled. That actually sounded pretty nice. He hadn’t hung out with Steve in a while. Hell, he hadn’t even seen him in at least a month. “Sure, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Steve responded, turning his back to Tony to clean up.

There was a minute of silence, just filled by the sounds of washing dishes. Tony felt like he should say something to fill it. He hated silence, even when it didn’t feel awkward. 

“Thanks.” he blurted, making Steve pause and turn around.

“You’re welcome?” he asked, confused.

“I mean–thanks, for last night.”

Steve smiled that stupid perfect American smile. “Anything for you.”

Tony honestly had no response to that, so he went for changing the subject. “Come on, let’s go get you some Netflix, Mr. Technology-is-Evil.”

Steve gave him a look and flicked water at him. “Fine, but we’re watching Pocahontas first.”

Tony grinned. He could definitely work with that. It was about damn time Steve got Netflix, anyway.

More importantly, it was about damn time Tony introduced him to a wonderful little thing called Netflix and chill.

@simplyharryp @xmarvel @brnsbcky @scriptureofashes @ghostbbones @thatsociallyawkwardgirl @taserwebs @spidiepool @lunarshores @dracoaries @chocolatehxle

send an ask if you would like to be added/removed to the tag list!

[dukereviewstv]

Duke Reviews Tv: Smallville 1x06 Hourglass

Hi Everyone, I'm Andrew Leduc And Welcome To Duke Reviews Tv Where We Are Continuing Our Look At Smallville By Talking About Episode 6 Of Season 1, Hourglass...

In This Episode, Clark Meets Cassandra Carver, An Wheelchair Bound Old Woman Who Lost Her Sight In The Meteor Shower But Gained The Ability To See Into The Future. Meanwhile, An Old Man Named Harry Volk Falls Into A Pond Filled With Meteor Rocks Which Makes Him Young And Allows Him To Begin Killing The Descendants Of The People On The Jury That Convicted Him Of 60 Years Ago, Will Clark Stop Harry's Murders? And What Information Will Both Clark And Lex Get Out Of Cassandra?

Let's Find Out As We Watch Hourglass...

The Episode Starts With Clark And Pete Doing Their 30 Hours Of Community Service At The Old Folks Home Instead Of The Girl's Swimming Class At The Y Like Pete Wanted...

What A Shock, Lana's Here!

Assigned To Cassandra Carver (Played By Jackie Burroughs, Who Would Later Work With Harrison Wells Himself, Tom Cavanaugh On The ABC Family Christmas Movie, Snow) She Tells Pete To Check His Pockets, Which Is When Pete Discovers He Left His Keys In His Car...

Meanwhile, Lana Is Working With An Old Man Named Harry Bollston, Who Is Well Taught On Family History As He Tells Lana Her Family History In 2 Seconds...

Taking Harry Outside, He Asks Lana To Run Back Inside To Get A Scarf For Him When Really Harry Wants A Few Minutes To Smoke A Cigarette, However In Dropping His Lighter, Harry Fall Into The Pool Only To Come Out A Few Years Younger (Young Harry Is Played By NCIS: Los Angeles' Eric Christian Olsen)

But As That Was Going On Cassandra Wanted A Glass Of Water Only To Drop It When She Has A Vision Of Someone Close To Clark Dying...

That Afternoon At The Kent Farm, Clark Tells Jonathan And Martha About Cassandra's Vision With Them Of Course Not Buying It With Jonathan Believing It's Just A Half Baked Prediction And Martha Saying That If It Was Real She Should Have Given More Specifics (How, When, Where...)

Back At The Old Folks Home, Harry Has Disguised Himself As A Nurse. Entering His Room, He Gets Newspaper Clippings Before Looking In A Mirror, To Say That Fate Has Given Him A Second Chance And That This Time, They'll Pay...

Visiting The Beanery, Harry Basically Eats Everything He Can't Eat Anymore All While Sounding Like An Old Man...

With Lana Depressed At Losing Old Harry Chloe And Clark Try To Help As Young Harry Eavesdrops On Their Conversation...

Later At The Old Folks Home, Harry Plays The Piano As Cassandra Listens. Attempting To Read Harry's Palm, He's Too Smart To Fall For Cassandra's Tricks...

Dropping Vegetables Off At The Luthor Mansion, Clark Tells Lex About Cassandra's Vision And He Says The Exact Same Thing That Jonathan And Martha Said, But Believing That This Woman's The Real Deal Clark Then Asks Clark If He Really Wants To Know The Future?

When It Comes To You, Lex Maybe...

Asking For Cassandra's Name, Clark Tells Lex As He Leaves For The Old Folks Home Where Clark Runs Into Lana Who Has Discovered That Harry Bollston's Real Name Is Harry Volk And That He Was A Criminal Who Had A Bright Future But When His Teacher Chose Someone Else Over Him, So, As The Teacher Killed His Dream, He Killed The Teacher's Dream...

"Now Life Has Killed The Dream, I Dreamed...

Meanwhile On The Other Side Of Town, Cable Man Harry Goes After Someone Named Jim Gage, Who's Related To Someone On The Jury That Convicted Him...

Back At The Old Folks Home, Clark Runs Into Cassandra, Who Tells Him How She Started Having Visions...

Wow, And I Thought Daredevil Had An Interesting Origin...

Telling Cassandra That His Parents Believe Her To Be Nuts, But She Just Gives The Old People Are Afraid Of The Unknown Line And That Her Powers Only Show A Destination, The Journey Is Up To The Person...

Having Many Questions Of His Life, Cassandra Takes Clark's Hand Again To Show Him....

Ok, It's Not That Nightmare Of A Comic But It Is Clark Seeing That He'll Outlive Everyone He Cares For...

Upset At This Vision, Clark Runs Off...

The Next Morning, Clark Tells His Parents What Cassandra Showed Him With Them Again Not Believing It Despite Clark Telling Them That She Lost Her Vision In The Meteor Shower....

Come On, You Two! Wake Up!

Reading The Braille Edition Of The Daily Planet, Cassandra Gets Visited By Lex, Who Is Interested In Getting Some Insight Clark, Even Offering Money To Cassandra To Do So But She Says That Can't Tell Him Anything About Clark, As She Can Tell The Future Of The Person Who's Hand She Touches But Not Wanting To Know His Future, Lex Walks Away...

Meanwhile At School, Clark Meets Lana At The Torch When She Says That Chloe Has Some Information On Harry But She's More Interested In The Wall Of Weird When She Notices Her Picture Next To A 3 Headed Calf And The Monster From Crater Lake...

Meeting Chloe And Pete At The Kent Barn Instead Of The Torch, They Show Clark A Paper Of Jim Gage's Death Which Was Done The Same Way That Harry Volk Did It In 1945, Clark Believes It To Be A Copycat At First That Is Until Chloe Shows Clark Young Harry's Photo...

But As They Head To The Old Folks Home To Search Through Harry's Mail, Harry Is At The Beanery, Preparing To Kill Another Descendant Of A Member Of The Jury That Convicted Him Named Zoe Garfield, Who's A Waitress At The Beanery...

As Clark, Chloe And Pete Go To Search Harry's Mail, Clark Runs Into Cassandra, Who Tells Him That He's The First Person Who's Ever Seen Her Visions And She Thinks That That's Because Clark Is Not Like Other People...

Believing That Clark's Destiny Is To Save People From Fear And Darkness, She Touches Clark's Hand Again To Show Him People Who Need His Help...

Before Clark Goes To Check On Pete And Chloe, Cassandra Promises To Keep Clark's Secret...

Arriving In Harry's Room, Chloe Tells Clark They Found Nothing In The Mail However, They Did Find Some Newspaper Clippings, From The Smallville Ledger, Noticing A Picture Of Waitress Zoe, Clark Races Off To The Beanery To Save Her, Arriving Just In Time As Harry Tries To Kill Her...

Throwing Zoe In The Road As An Oncoming Truck Is Coming, Clark Protects Zoe Saving Her Life...

Going After Harry, He Tries To Attack Clark With A Chopping Knife (Which Breaks Into A Million Pieces) Before Clark Throws Him On Top Of A Car...

That Night At The Kent Farm, Martha Tells Clark That Zoe Will Be Fine, The Truck Driver Isn't Asking Questions, And Harry Is At The Hospital For Observation But Saying Clark Figured It Out Due To Cassandra's Vision Has Mom And Dad Realizing Maybe She's Not Bonkers After All...

Really? You Don't Say!

Believing That There's A Chance That Cassandra Might Know Clark's Secret, Jonathan Tells Clark To Stay Away From Her...

Getting A Phone Call From Lex, He Shows Clark The Crashed Up Remains Of The Porsche, Asking Him If He Remembers Anything About The Accident, Clark Says No As Lex Feels A Little Strange Up And Walking About When Every Shred Of Evidence About The Accident Says He Should Be Dead...

Meanwhile At The Hospital, Sheriff Ethan Visits The Hospital To Pick Up Harry But When He Enters We See That He's Reverted Back To An Old Man Who Lies To The Police By Saying That A Kid That Was Obsessed With His Case Kidnapped Him...

Not Buying Old Harry's Story, Clark Stops By Old Harry's Room As Clark Is Starting To Believe That Him And This Kid Are One And The Same....

Calling The Nurse, She Tells Clark To Get Out But Later That Afternoon, Old Harry Returns To The Pond To Go For Another Dip In The Fountain Of Youth...

Freedom!

Back At The Torch, Chloe, Pete And Clark Go Over Files On Harry's Case As Lana Comes In Saying That Harry's Gone Again However Unlike Last Time, Clark Noticed That There Were Meteor Rocks In The Pond...

Discovering A List Of Jurors From Harry's Trial Which Include Randolph Gage (Jim Gage's Father) Rita Garfield (Zoe Garfield's Grandmother) And Hiram Kent (Clark's Grandfather) Which Means Jonathan Is On The List...

And Next By The Look Of It As Young Harry Arrives At The Kent Farm Talking About A Possible Gas Leak But Martha Is Hip To Harry's Game And Knows That He's Not Their Repairman!

First I Get Chased By A Guy Dressed Like A Clown...

And Now, I Get Chased By A Cable Man, What's Next? A Guy With A William Shatner Mask On His Head?

Grabbing A Machette In The Garage (All He's Missing Now Is The Hockey Mask) Harry Catches Up With Martha Who's In Some Tube Of Some Sort Where She Basically Drowns Harry And Herself In Popcorn Kernels (That's What I'm Guessing It Is)

Racing In As Jonathan Arrives Home, Clark Tells Him That Harry's Trying To Kill Him, Using His X-Ray Vision They Find Martha And Harry's Bodies, Using CPR To Save Martha And Proving That Cassandra Was Wrong...

The Next Day At The Old Folks Home, Lex Pays Cassandra A Visit, Deciding To Become A Believer Because Of Incidents That Have Happened As Of Recent, Taking Lex's Hand We See A Horrible Future Of Lex In Charge Of The White House...

And Thought Trump Was The Worst Thing To Happen To The White House...

And A Horrible Future Full Of Blood And Death...

Cassandra Is So Horrified By This Future It Ends Up Sadly Killing Her...

With Clark And A Nurse Arriving, Clark Realizes What Has Happened: Cassandra Died From Seeing Her Future...

And That's Hourglass And It's One Of The Best Episodes Of Smallville...

While The Story And Characters Are Good It's The Glimpses Into Clark And Lex's Futures That Make This Episode Interesting. The Fact That Clark Might Outlive Everyone He Has Ever Loved Is A Sad Thought And One Idea Done In Many DC Elseworld Stories And The Fact That Lex Might Be Our President Brings About A Dark Future Not Just For Clark But For The Entire DC Universe Either Way I Say See It...

Till Next Time, This Is Duke, Signing Off...

[undercovermcdfan]

Hey I'm new to this and I don't really know how it works so um... ‘a man who can’t die is no tragic hero.’ centered around Vylad? Maybe?

‘a man whocan’t die is no tragic hero.’ 

title: tea and cake

summary: A conversation over some tea during astormy afternoon. Vylad-centric. MCD pre-season 3.

a/n: So, this is so… loosely based offthe prompt, I’m so sorry??? It was supposed to be something deeper andVylad-centric but I ended up writing him having a conversation with Isabel andthrew in a bit of Vylance because I’m a sucker for that pairing? I hope youlike it—I thought it was rather cute, even if it’s so… loosely based off such agood prompt jfc. I might take another shot at it on another date.

warning(s): fluff, tea, Isabel being a sweetie

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Rainfall doesn’t bring melancholy feelings it once did.

As denizens scurried, seeking shelter in the nearby establishmentsor rushing home, he stood there in the street. His cloak, soaked. His hair,flatten against his forehead. The comforting rumble of distant storm thisintense rain was bring only made him want to shut his eyes, listening as hisbreathed out even breaths and lulled into a fond memory which rain only broughtnow.

Irene island went from a peaceful village to a sprawlingcity. It’s impressive, walking down the cobbled streets and not recognizing thebuildings, nor knowing which turn to take even though it’s been a year or sosince he decided to stop by.

He watched as a mother pulled along her inquisitive child,chided him softly when the child attempted to jump into the large puddle formingon the side of the road and adjusted her umbrella.

An older gentleman holding a newspaper over his head,squinting to the sky and grumbling something Vylad couldn’t quite catch beforeheading back inside the tavern.

A young girl who ran a storefront staring at him concernedand mild curiosity from behind the glass window. He spared her a glance and shelooked away quickly, embarrassed for being caught.

Ah, well Ican’t drag my feet any longer. He pulled up his hood, andhurried down the road—he was late enough already.

He wasn’t sure when he indulged Isabel and her requests tosee him whenever she heard he was in town.

Honestly, she shouldn’t have known—Vylad preferred his methodof dropping in and leaving when he’s finish reporting of whatever informationhe managed to gather. But by chance, the other day, she caught him— “Two years and you haven’t change one bit,”she said in giggly tone—and managed to rope him into staying for another day,to visit her.

Maybe it’s nostalgia; he couldn’t quite say they were friendsbut Isabel had a charm that’s hard to place and a presence which reminded himof a caring mother mixed with enthusiasm of a child—if she wasn’t hanging offthe arms of Laurance or Katelyn, tending to the younger kids that took upresidence on the island, or buzzing like the more social creature that she was,she’d always hunt him down to ask some questions (usually to satisfied hercuriosity about his ‘mysterious’ nature). She rarely caught him, true, butafter a while, she grew on him like Laurance told him she would.

And after a while, sometimes he’d seek her out. Strange howmissing the same person could make an unlikely pair—and they were the mostunlikely.

He, quiet and never much to say beyond being an ear she couldtalk to tirelessly.

She, understanding way of speaking and made warm tea with thesweet cakes whenever he visited.

The place she called home was small and humble, sandwichedbetween two other homes; on the upper left windowsill, he could spot a smallgarden and a welcome mat was on the top of the steps that led up. It said ‘welcome’,in blocky letters and a simple picture of a kitten pawing at the ‘e’ inwelcome.

She opened the door on the third round of knocking, looking alittle disheveled and flustered but smiling brightly when she saw him.

“I’m so sorry,” she ushered him in, smoothing down her hair—it’sshorter now, something he didn’t note until now; she frowned, giving him a onceover, “You’re soaked! Don’t tell me you walked here without an umbrella, Vylad.”

He shrugged off his cloak, and she immediately took it,propping it on a coat rack and a grimace at the water droplets dripped onto thefloor. “It started raining as I was walking.”

“Still not a reason to just… never mind,” she sighed, holdingup a hand, “Wait here. I’ll give you something to dry off.”

And she disappeared back up the stairs.

There was evidence she didn’t live alone. The open closet hadmore coats than necessary for just one person, and the number of shoes it held—Isabelalways been on the humbler side of living and even if she grew a taste ofshopping, he was doubtful she’d owned thatmany.

When she returned, throwing the towel on his head andinstructing him to take off his shoes— “I spent all day mopping. I’m notletting you track mud in here.”, she hurried away again, into the kitchen sheassumed.

There wasn’t much of a living room area, so of course hefollowed her, undoing his bun as he started to dry it off his hair.

He zoned out slightly as she started to chatter; taking upseat on one of the two chairs in the kitchen, he mused at the cutesydecorations adorning the table, walls, around the small kitchen.

“—anyway, it was lucky I decided to make a run to the bakerythis morning rather than later; the weather been so gloom and doom the pastcouple of days,” she said, placing tea in front of him before placing the milkand sugar cube; of course, he went straight for the sugar cube, adding two tohis drink as he gave quiet thanks. “Hmm.”

He paused, glancing up and Isabel waved her hand beforeletting out a small laugh. “Oh nothing. I was remembering something,” shesmiled, as she turned away to fetch her own cup and the cakes she alreadyprepared on a tray, “Remember three years ago, when the island had only Aphmau,Travis—you know. Before the island was theisland. And there was that nasty storm.”

His brow raised, absentmindedly rubbing his hair. “I do.”

“And remember how we both got caught in it? The lectureLaurance gave us…” the soft smile faded for just a moment before it returnedbrightly, she slid the cake and fork towards him, taking a seat, “I never sawyou look so embarrassed until that day, honestly. I didn’t know if you could feel embarrassed? Or look so uncool.” Henarrowed his eyes and frowned. But she shrugged off his gaze, rather, she wasgrinning now at his expression. “He even made you sit down and dry off your hairafter you sneak off.”

Normally, the reminder of… him would leave his heart aching.But never with Isabel, she never let either dwell on the bitterness of the facthe was gone.

“He was treating me like a child.” He took a bite of cake.

“In his defense, it’s a little childish to run off.”

He squints at her, pointing his fork with an accusatory point.She shrugged, continuing the story, “You looked like an angry cat. And Laurancekept talking and talking, how we both were asking for a cold.”

“You did catch a cold.”

“Huh, I did, didn’t I?” she chuckled, before softly sighing, “…youknow. Sometimes I miss it. Miss Laurance being around. When he left, everybodyended up going their separate ways… especially you.” He took a sip of her histea, avoiding with her searching eyes as she looked at him. “Do you ever wonderwhat he’s up to?”

…Maybe he should take back the statement of the ache nevercoming.

“Every day.” He whispered, after a pause.

She hummed, propping up her cheek with her palm, “Not everyday for me… but often enough. Same with you. I wonder about you a lot. Aph toldme you been busy in Tu’la and… it’s a little worrying, you know?”

He’s quiet, taking another bite of his cake.

“I know both you and Laurance can handle yourselves… but aweak-willed maiden like me can only worry about her friends when they’re offdoing whatever dangerous things they do. I hate how much of a pessimist I’vebecome.”

“You’re not weak-willed.”

“Ah,” her eyes still read sadness but a fond smile appearedagain, “I’m ‘soft hearted’ as you all put it.”

He shook his head. “Isabel. You don’t want to be like me. OrLaurance—he wasn’t…”

“Happy. I know,” she sighed, stirring her tea as she shut hereyes, “Something to do with that shadow knight business, right? He always triedbut… anybody could see he was struggling at times.” Vylad swallowed thickly—andthe tea didn’t help. Isabel continued, “You struggle with it to. At leastLaurance had you… you’re all alone, and always away, sometimes I wonder what ifthe next time I hear about you i-is… you know. It’s your job and you’re servingfor heroic reasons but… it’s… lonely, isn’t it? I know you a-are.”

Part of him froze, instinctively, when he saw a tear roll downher cheek—like always did when he saw her cry. He never was the type to comfortbut pity filled his heart whenever he saw the young woman cry.

“Isabel.” She sniffed, quickly wiping away the tears butbefore she could have uttered an apology, he cut her off, giving a tentativesmile, “I appreciate your concern. What I do… isn’t heroic like you say, I mustconfess.” He paused, collecting his words as he chewed on a piece of cakethoughtfully—Isabel got up for a moment to fetch the kettle and pour them bothanother cup. “I am lonely. Sometimes I think I took up the task to punishmyself.”

“Punish?”

He nodded, “It’s complicated… but yes. For somebody likemyself, I don’t really deserve your tears. I only been selfish.”

The silence was… uncomfortable. He closed his eyes. He couldstill hear the rumbles of thunder and the house slightly shook from the strongwinds the storm was bringing.

But her tone shifted when she spoke up, breaking the silence.“…It isn’t a crime to feel what you feel. I know you aren’t… talkative aboutthis, but it’s okay to feel lonely and not feel at home here on this island.Also,” she smiled, “You are a hero. You do heroic stuff. And selfish or not, I’llstill cry over a dear friend.”

“...friend.”

“Yes,” she giggled, knocking on the table, “No matter whatyou say, we are friends! End of discussion.”

Vylad sighed. I supposethere’s no point to argue. He then reached for his cake, abandoning thepolite eating and held it, shoveling the rest into his mouth.

Isabel laughed at that, throwing her head back. “I knew youwere holding back!” she got up, smiling, “Let me get you another piece—I gottenextra for you and the fact Amber has bit of a sweet tooth.”

He perked up. “Amber?”

Isabel smiled, brightening up again, “Oh. Sit tight—shoot,you missed a lot since you been gone?”

He returned her smile, small but it was still there. As shechanged the subject—now talking about this ‘Amber’ girl affectionately--, hecouldn’t help but think of her words: Youare a hero.

It was a lie. Because he was only selfish, and a person whocheats death, existing by the whims of something so unholy… he couldn’t ever bea hero.

But then again, a small voice whispered: You don’t have to be. You could do your best and just be good.

That voice suspiciously sound like one that made his heartflutter. He waved it all away.

Taking a sip from his tea, he said, “You love her.”

“Well,” Isabelblushed, her smile wide, “I mean what gave it away?”