#I basically drew him in a cool fit last night and went | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Note

Omg can I please get a hannibal x a shy girl reader ? Like he’s really possessive of her and she doesn’t know how to handle it but she likes him so they date??

Sorry this took so long, anon. I’ve been bouncing ideas around and this one in particular, I believe, fits your request. Y/n feels out of place among Hannibal’s fancy friends and it becomes even more obvious when he abandons her at a party.

Trigger warnings: social anxiety, sexual harassment, overstimulation

You and Hannibal had an agreement about large gatherings. He could only bring you to a party if you had a week's notice and at least three uninterrupted hours of gaming time prior to the event.

For this event, you needed a solid six.

One of the major Maryland universities was awarding a lucrative research grant to a student of clinical psychology, and every influential name in the industry was expected to be there. As a recent college grad with a bachelor's in business you didn't know what to do with, you couldn't imagine a less welcoming environment if you tried. You couldn't fit into their world and more importantly, you didn't want to. But the thought of being noticeably different in any situation was twice as terrifying. So you spent the whole week repeating your mantra; blend in, be quiet and make it through the night.

But Hannibal had different plans for you.

Halfway through the week, just when you'd pushed the party out of your mind, Hannibal presented you with a gift.

"What's the occasion?" You asked. You hoped that if you pretended not to know, it would just magically go away.

"I brought you something to wear on Friday." Hannibal answered, hanging the garment bag up on the bureau. "You know I'll take any excuse to dress you up."

He unzipped the bag and placed a black silk dress into your arms. "Try it on so I have time to get it altered if it needs it."

The material was cool to the touch and outlined your figure so perfectly, you felt even a little naked. Hannibal, of course, loved this. You were his own personal Venus de Milo. His goddess and his muse.

“Yes, that will do nicely.” He observed, looking at you hungrily.

“Seems a little short for a such a sophisticated event, doesn’t it?” You raised an eyebrow. The answer was yes and he knew it. He was very deliberate in everything he did. “I don’t want to come off the wrong way.”

“And what way would that be, darling?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your figure.

“I mean--” You searched for the right words. “It’s a gathering of the Mid-Atlantic’s most esteemed academics, I feel like, in a dress like this, I might be seen as, well, a...”

“A prostitute?” Hannibal finished, choosing a much nicer word than you would have.

You looked down. “Yeah. It just doesn’t seem all that appropriate.”

Hannibal approached you and lifted your chin slightly to look into his eyes. “Many Christian denominations believe that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute, yet she was Christ’s right-hand woman. She was first to see him crucified and first to witness his resurrection.”

“Dr. Lecter,” You smirked. “I never would have taken you for a religious man.”

“Goodness, no.” He shook his head. “But any reputable academic is expected to be familiar with biblical literature and its many contradictions and impossibilities.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“You are my divine feminine, Miss [L/N].” Hannibal said in a low whisper. “And I want everyone to see it. If they see a common whore, it would only be a reflection of their own jealousy.”

Hannibal's rationalization almost made you forget about your fear of being noticed. Almost. It all came rushing back when you arrived at the event. Not one person your age was in attendance. The women wore long, flowing evening gowns that reached the floor. The length of your skirt alone guaranteed that all eyes were on you. In a simple black silk dress, you looked the very model of high society. Silk was a sign of luxury, and Hannibal wanted everyone to know that you were a woman of means. His woman, to be precise. That was why he brought you to these functions in the first place. To put you in a dress short enough for any wandering eyes so see the smattering of love bites running up your inner thighs. He wanted everyone in his field to know that you were completely and entirely his.

You realized too late that this was all his little exercise in showing you off.

Everyone seemed to know him. He only knew a handful of people by name, and you didn't know anyone.

"And who is this delightful young woman?" A woman with a light southern twang in her voice asked, looking at you as if you were a caged animal on display.

"I wasn't aware you had a daughter, Dr. Lecter." The young man beside her laughed. "Or is she your side piece?"

Your eyes scanned the room for the nearest exit. It would be unbecoming to make a scene, so you plotted a way to slip out quietly.

“Darling, meet Dr. Charlotte Ramset and her TA, David.” Hannibal introduced, notably ignoring the young man. “Dr. Ramset, this is my intended, [F/N] [L/N].”

"I didn't realize she was also a ventriloquist!" The lady, presumably Dr. Ramset, joked. You'd heard that one a million times. She looked at you. "Tell me about yourself, sweetie. What are you studying?"

The lady was old enough to be your grandmother and reeked of too much perfume.

"I graduated last year." You said, quietly. "With a BA in business."

"See, there's a good woman." David added. "Only speaks when spoken to. They don't make ’em like you anymore, baby."

Hannibal tightened his grip on your hand. "On the contrary, David. See, Miss [L/N] is quite a bit like myself. She only dignifies those she deems worthy with a response. There's nothing wrong with being selective."

The lady laughed at David's expense and smiled at you. "Good for you."

You smiled back just a little, not ready to bring your guard down yet. "I've had to deal with more than enough. It's best not to engage."

"Oh, I know, I know." The lady said, shaking her head. "That's how it is for us educated gals. Always having to put up with pigs. See, I went to college in the sixties, so I can tell you some real stories."

This was a new experience. Talking to Hannibal's friends and having them listen to you was something you never considered possible. Now, you were one of the educated gals. You were just about to strike up a conversation with this woman, when the man next to her decided someone desperately needed to play devil’s advocate.

“I find that sexist, actually.” He cut in. “Not all men are pigs.”

The silence following his comment was deafening and you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Whatever progress Hannibal and Dr. Ramset made breaking down your defenses was completely reversed and you were ready to retreat.

Dr. Ramset took a long sip of wine and adjusted her shawl. “David, none of us said anything about men, you drew that conclusion yourself.”

“I mean, look at you.” David gestured to your dress. You knew exactly where this was going and you wished you could just disappear. “You’re basically asking for it.”

Dr. Ramset glared at him. “David, that’s enough.”

“I’m just stating facts.” David crossed his arms. “If you dress like a slut, what do you expect?”

Dr. Ramset and Hannibal seemed to have an entire conversation through prolonged eye contact before one of them broke the silence.

"Charlotte, I hate to have to excuse myself so soon, but the president of the university is expecting me." Hannibal said, dropping your hand. Your heart hit the floor when you realized that he would be throwing you to the wolves.

"Of course, Dr. Lecter." She nodded. "Duty calls."

"I trust you'll keep an eye on my beloved [F/N] in my absence?" His voice hardened. The severity in his tone frightened you.

Dr. Ramset didn't seem disturbed or even surprised in the slightest by his gently threatening demand. "Of course."

"Thank you. And [F/N]?" He said, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. "I won't be going far. Please, try to have fun."

You tried not to look affronted, but you were going to have a long talk with Hannibal when you got home.

"I'm just saying what everyone is thinking." David continued, his inability to take a hint positively astounding. "Why don't you respect yourself enough to cover up, [F/N]? You have a boyfriend!"

Your eyes scrolled across the room looking for any sign of Hannibal, but he was gone. Dr. Ramset finished her wine and stared at her TA with the resigned disgust of a death row jailer.

"Any other thoughts?" She said, snatching a fresh glass of wine. You looked at her with a clear expression of discomfort.

"Come on, do you see any other woman in the room dressed so provocatively?" David's voice broke mid-sentence. "No. Because they're educated enough to know that real men don't care about their bodies."

The hotel clerk approached the group. "Mr. Hosmer, there's a call for you."

David narrowed his eyes. "Uh, what?"

"Someone is on the phone asking for you." The clerk repeated. "Says it's an emergency."

David shrugged. "Fine."

Just when you thought you would be rid of him, at least for a moment, he planted his hands on your hips in attempt to "get by" you. His touch was like that of an insect crawling across your skin; unexpected, filthy and leaving you squeamish.

"I'm so sorry about that." Dr. Ramset's words echoed in your ears, but you didn't really hear them. You were too focused on grounding yourself to process what she was saying.

“Dr. Ramset?” You said, quietly. “Which one is the president of the university?”

She glanced at a tall woman in a dark blue suit, surrounded by equally important looking businesspeople. You followed her eyes. “That’s Dr. Mary Hosmer.”

Your ounce of righteous fury was squelched in two seconds when the reality of having to talk to someone, especially someone of stature, set in. You looked sheepishly back at Dr. Ramset.

“Could you please ask her where Hannibal went?” You whispered. “I’d really like him to take me home now.”

Her face turned sympathetic. “Of course, [F/N]. Stay right there.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

Dr. Ramset crossed the floor and politely greeted the president. You took a few slow, calculated steps closer, just to get in earshot.

“Pardon me, but, have you seen Dr. Hannibal Lecter?” Dr. Ramset said, casually.

“I wasn’t aware Hannibal had even arrived yet.” The president answered. “I haven’t seen him.”

Your eyes widened. You fought the urge to freeze, but you had to move back before Dr. Ramset knew you’d been eavesdropping. You heard everything you needed and rushed back to where she’d left you.

“Dr. Hosmer said he stepped out.” She told you upon her return. “He should be back soon.”

You tried not to show that you knew she was lying. “...oh.”

“Would you like me to stay with you until he comes back?”

You knew you were completely on your own. You didn’t know what was going on, but you had an inkling that it had to do with the president and David sharing a last name. All you knew for certain was that you couldn’t trust anybody.

“Don’t bother.” You shook your head. You took off for the door, but Dr. Ramset grabbed your wrist.

“I’m sorry, [F/N].” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. She didn’t look mad, but afraid. “But Dr. Lecter told me to stay with you. Please. Don’t make this harder for me.”

You recalled how seriously threatening Hannibal’s request was. She wasn’t answering to the president of the university. She was answering to Hannibal. You didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved.

“Right.” You conceded, stepping back in. “I’m sorry.”

The actual award ceremony was much longer than it needed to be, and it dragged on even longer knowing there was no reason for you to be there. Other than that, you awkwardly followed Dr. Ramset around the party like a lost puppy the whole time. You were back to your original plan: blend in, be quiet and make it through the night.

Just when you thought the party would never end, someone tapped you on the arm. You turned around, hoping with every fiber of your being that it was Hannibal, but it wasn’t. A tall woman in a dark blue suit stared back at you.

“I’m sorry to bother you, miss.” She said, apologetically. “But have you seen my son? I saw him talking to you and Dr. Charlotte earlier, perhaps he told you where he was going?”

You’d pushed that man completely out of your mind. You shook your head. “He left to take a phone call and I haven’t seen him since.”

A hand found your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Hosmer, but I believe I saw the boy on his phone out in the lobby.”

“Dr. Lecter!” The president’s eyes widened. “How nice of you to finally join us.”

“...Yes, I believe he left right after making unwarranted comments towards my intended here.” Hannibal ran his hand down your arm lovingly.

“Well, boys will be boys.” The president chuckled. “Maybe you should teach your girlfriend not to wear such revealing clothes.”

Hannibal smiled and pulled you in protectively. “Whatever the case, I hope you find him very soon.”

Her phone chimed in her back pocket. “Oh, that’s him right now.”

“Wonderful.” Hannibal said. “[F/N] and I will be taking our leave.”

He hurried you towards the door, his hand tight around yours. A blood-curdling scream came from behind you. You looked back for just a moment and found the president hollering in pain and falling to her knees.

“Let’s go, darling.” Hannibal tugged at your arm. “They don’t deserve your presence.”

“Hannibal, I swear.” You said, once you were in the safety of the car. “If you killed every man who looked at me like a piece of meat, sooner or later, there won’t be any men left.”

Hannibal smirked and reached for his seatbelt. “Wonderful.”

#hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #anon ask #anon request

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wolfstar-supremacy-innit · 3 years

Text

Spilling secrets: Remus' confession

Wolfstar one shot in which Remus is blackout drunk and reveals his feelings to Sirius. Loosely based on this lovely post. Sirius' POV, 2.2k words.

I will probably write another one shot, with the roles reversed (Spilling secrets: Sirius' confession), but don't hold me to that. :)

Enjoy lovelies <3

With a sizable effort, James and Sirius finally managed to shove Remus into his bed. Getting him up the stairs alone took 10 minutes. Remus kept stumbling back down towards the common room when the two other boys paused to take a breath from propping him up, before they realized there’s no letting go of Remus if they plan on getting him to the dorm before sunrise. He stirred in the bed for some time, but ultimately sprawled out on the sheets with a content smile on his face.

James and Sirius released monumental sighs of relief. The party downstairs was still in full swing, but both of them effectively sobered up from the bloody grapple they just endured.

“Bloody hell, the snockered bugger,” Sirius exclaimed wiping his forehead with his forearm. James laughed breathlessly at his choice of words.

“Right you are. You going back down?”

“Nah, I’m about ready to be dead asleep for the next three days after that.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They barely changed out of their clothes when Remus suddenly exclaimed from under the covers: “Ugh, God!” The other two boys slowly turned to him. What now, Sirius thought. Remus irritably chucked the blanket away from his head, all the way to his waist. “Why does he have to be so fucking fit?!” James and Sirius exchanged an intrigued look, growing more amused by the second. Remus rarely, or essentially never made such comments. “With his fucking hands, and soft hair and bloody earrings, Jesus,” he continued muttering angrily, but the words became unintelligible as he turned over and stuck his face into the fluffy pillow.

“Who, Moony,” James asked.

“Fucking, Sirius!”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah, Moony, I’m here. Who’s fit?” But it kinda seemed Remus didn’t truly comprehend that he was in the room with people he knew.

“I told you. Sirius,” he continued, face still stuck in the pillow.

“Oh fucking hell. You didn’t tell me anything, mate.”

“Sirius is fucking fit, you idiot,” Remus slurred, voice muffled. He released a loud, annoyed groan, then: “I wanna shag him through the fucking wall.”

A dreadful, resounding silence iced over the room. Sirius felt blazing red heat crawling up his body from the pit of his stomach and settling rather heavily on his cheeks. Did he get that right? Seconds seemed to stretch as Sirius willed his mind to comprehend what he had just heard.

As if snapping both James and Sirius out of a trance, soft snores diffused over the room and James broke into quiet, intense giggles. Sirius felt hot all over with a feeling very very remotely familiar to him: embarrassment. You could probably count on the fingers of one hand the number of things that embarrassed Sirius Black, but boy, was this one of them. Not to mention the boner that was solemnly threatening to make a presence. “Merlin’s sock on a stick, Moony,” he said, nonplussed.

James managed to rein in his laughter enough to breathe out: “You are never going to live this down.”

“And if I shag him on your bed? Will I live it down then?” That seemed to sober James up like a downpour of ice water.

“Holy shit. Do you want to?”

“And what if I do?”

“N-nothing. T- that’s great for you lads, then,” James stammered, obviously bewildered.

“Alright then.” Sirius stepped towards Remus’ bed and pushed his shoulder back to roll him away from the pillow that was threateningly muffling his breathing. “So he doesn’t suffocate, the idiot.”

Without another word, the two boys got into their respective beds and drew the curtains. Sirius lay there, on top of the covers, staring at the drapes with large eyes. He shifted. Yep, an undignified boner was indubitably tenting his pajama bottoms. His heart was hammering, mind buzzing. Moony actually looked at him like that. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. Or was he brain-dead pissed and just speaking nonsense? He felt a heavy lump of disappointment settle in his stomach.

“Padfoot,” came a voice from James’ bed. Sirius made a questioning sound. “Did you actually mean that? About Moony?”

Pause. “Yeah. I did.”

James cleared his throat. “Yeah, okay, cool. Cool, cool. Um, Padfoot?”

“Yeah?”

“You never told me you, um. You liked blokes.”

“Yeah, sorry. I told you now. Is that alright?” There was a silence that made Sirius’ mind stir with fear until he heard rustling and then a body jumped on him, encompassing him in a bone-crushing hug. Boy, was Sirius glad his boner dissipated in the panic of waiting for his best friend’s reaction.

“Of course it’s alright, you git!” Relief filled Sirius as a face-splitting grin stretched his mouth. Pulling apart after a few moments, they sat cross-legged across each other. “And Moony, blimey. What a catch, good on you, Sirius.”

“Hah. Well... We’ll se what the morning light brings.”

“Oh, shut it. Don’t go all poetic on me in the wee hours of the night. It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Sirius flopped around in bed the most of the night. Shortly after James returned to his own four-poster, Peter stumbled in from downstairs and flung himself into bed. Sirius couldn’t will his brain to quiet down enough to fall asleep for a long while. When he finally concluded all of the other boys were sound asleep, he resolved to have a wank thinking about no other than gorgeous, incredible Remus, laying just a couple of meters to the right, snoring away his insobriety. Well, what else was new?

<><><><><>

Sirius, Peter and Remus were sitting at breakfast, exchanging only a few words apart from ‘will you pass me that tray?’ The other two moved sluggishly with lidded eyes, but Sirius was restless. He kept shifting in his seat, shaking his knee under the table and taking bites of food too large to chew. When they woke up that morning like a bunch raised from the dead, Remus made it relatively clear that he, in fact, did not recall most of the party, let alone the atomic bomb he dropped to James and Sirius the previous night. James just smacked Sirius’ shoulder in consolation and left for the showers without saying a word.

Sirius needed to tell Remus and he needed to do it soon, or he thought his head might detach itself from his shoulders. Or he might vomit his heart out. Either way, Remus was sitting there, unsuspecting, looking heavenly with his wild bedhead and watery eyes and Sirius couldn’t keep his eyes off him. Thankfully, the others seemingly didn’t notice.

James plopped on the bench next to Sirius, pulling his attention towards himself. He took a double look at Sirius and made a show of scanning him up and down. “Bloody hell, Padfoot. Don’t you look fucking fit this morning?” Sirius immediately caught his drift, Remus’ words from the previous night etched in his brain like a carving. Test the waters a little. He smiled as James clapped him on the shoulder.

“Why thank you, Prongs.”

Remus’ brows furrowed as his eyes flickered between the two boys in front of him, then went back to eating with a puzzled expression.

“Yeah, like your hands and hair. Soft hair,” James corrected himself quickly, “and your earrings. Merlin, don’t get me started on your earrings.” Sirius felt himself blushing rapidly, remembering exactly where those words came from. Remus was gawking at James, hand holding a fork stopping mid-air. He and Peter looked at each other. Peter shrugged.

“Aw, thank you, Prongs. I’m touched.”

“Yeah, you probably will be later tonight,” James mumbled quietly and Sirius choked on his food, covering it up with a cough, then elbowed the boy next to him in the ribs.

“You two tryna tell us something?” Peter squinted at them.

James mock gasped. “Can’t I compliment my best mates?”

“You never compliment me like that. Or Moony,” said Peter.

“Don’t be jealous, Wormy. Everyone knows I’m simply irresistible,” Sirius chimed in, flashing a charming smile. Remus remained suspiciously silent, glancing between the three other boys.

A little while later as James and Peter engaged in a heated discussion about the Hawkshead Attacking Formation, Sirius seized his opportunity. “Hey Moons, you finished? I need to talk to you in the dorm.” Remus nodded and they slipped out of the Great Hall and headed for Gryffindor tower. Sirius was so jittery, he felt like somebody had hooked him up to a power plant and cranked up the voltage. He could easily make an absolute buffoon out of himself if Remus was just mumbling rubbish the previous night. They barely spoke all the way to the common room, except for Remus commenting on his dreadful hangover headache. When they arrived to the dorm, Sirius started unconsciously wringing his hands. Remus plopped on his bed casually and said: “What’d you want to talk about, Pads?”

Sirius sat next to him on the bed, heartbeat through the roof. “Right. Yeah. Right.” He cleared his throat in a pitiful attempt to give himself more time to get the sentence out of his mouth. “Yeah, so... You said something last night. When you were plastered.”

Remus’ face effectively blanched. “What?”

“Well, you were properly pissed, so maybe it was just rubbish...”

“What did I say, Sirius?”

“Okay, so...” He cleared his throat again. “You remember what James said to me when he came to breakfast this morning?” Remus just stared with wide eyes. “Well, basically that... And- and some other things.”

Remus made a face, then flopped face-first into the pillow. “Oh no. What other things?”

Sirius released a nervous chuckle. He started stammering like no bloody aristocrat ever, his effortless confidence long evaporated. Nobody made that happen like Remus. Nobody made that happen except Remus. “Oh, bugger,” were the first coherent words he managed to get out. Remus mumbled a ‘Jesus Christ’ into the pillow.

“You said you wanted to shag me.” The silence was deafening to poor Sirius who awaited an answer. He almost reached out to put a hand on the other boy’s shoulder, when Remus started laughing short, muffled giggles that shook his back. Dread struck Sirius.

“Well. I’m the biggest dumbass in England. Fantastic.”

“Did you not mean it?” His voice must have resonated with worry because Remus finally rolled a little to look at him for the first time in minutes.

“Did you want me to mean it?”

“What if I did?”

“Well that would probably be good, because I’m barely keeping myself from jumping your bones.”

Sirius barked out a laugh followed closely by a sigh of relief. “Yes, I bloody well wanted it.” Remus gingerly pushed himself up into a sitting position. Sirius was slightly unsure what he was supposed to do, and it seemed like the other boy was too. Trying to take initiative, Sirius lifted his hand to place it on Remus’ shoulder, then changed his mind, going for his cheek, but chickened out at the last second and dropped it back on the bed. They laughed awkwardly. “Smooth,” Remus said. “Shut up. I’m nervous,” Sirius replied.

Remus huffed out another laugh and straightened the collar of his dress shirt as he said: “Okay.” He scooted closer to Sirius on the bed and actually put a gentle hand on his cheek. They stared at each other and Sirius felt pure, all encompassing giddiness simmering in his body, making his fingertips tingle. When their lips finally met, the kiss was delicate and tentative, like feet dipping into unknown waters. After a while, they both started smiling against each other’s mouth and Sirius’ heart fluttered with the warmth that consumed him. Feeling bolder, he licked Remus’ lower lip and he responded at once, gliding their tongues together. Oh, okay, boner again, then. When they pulled apart, Sirius said: “Yep, I’m definitely gay.” Remus laughed, bowing his head and resting it on Sirius’ shoulder.

“I’m that good?”

“That you are,” Sirius responded without missing a beat. He brought Remus’ head back up with a hand on his neck, then pushed him backwards onto the bed with a forceful kiss. He threw a leg over the other boy, straddling his hips. Remus mumbled an ‘mmm’ into his mouth.

“As much I want to do this, and trust me, you’ve no idea how much, we have Potions in five minutes,” Remus said, pulling away. Sirius just resumed kissing him, then replied: “I reckon I might last shorter than that.” The tawny-haired boy chuckled, but still pushed him off. “I’d rather do it when we have more time. And I’m not too keen on doing detention tonight, when I could be snogging you in some empty classroom.” Sirius grinned. “I like the way you think, Mr. Moony.”

As they hurried down a corridor, Sirius remembered. “Oh, yeah. One more thing. James was there with me last night when you professed your undying attraction to me.”

“Oh, fuck’s sake.”

I am kinda proud of this, hope you like it as much as I do. I thought it was funny and I just love the idea of the usually overly confident, heartthrob Sirius completely losing his cool around Remus and also awkward teenage boys being dumbasses.

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downondilaudid · 4 years

Text

Taboo Nightmare

Reader has an amazing one night stand with a stranger from a bar, only to regret her decision days later when she walks into class and realizes he’s her new professor.

LOOK AT ME, FINALLY posting. I am finally motivated.

Requested: No

Prompts: None

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: BASICALLY JUST SMUT, Penetrative Sex, Fingering, Degradation, Light Humiliation, Light Impact Play.

“Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.”

― Emery Allen

Your body felt warm with the alcohol coursing through your system. The bright club lights shimmered on your black sequin bodycon dress. The euphoria you were experiencing almost felt superficial, it was addicting.

Sweaty bodies mangled on the dance floor, you being one of them, grinding your hips against one of your close friends. To say you had dragged her to the club would be an understatement, she had practically kicked and screamed the whole way here. But now here you were, both relaxed and having the time of your lives.

From across the club, your eyes met with a man’s, his figure tall and dressed in a fitted blazer. He definitely didn’t look like he should be at a club. His features were almost unrecognizable in the low light, but his gaze was strong, strong enough to force you to look away. You turned to your friend, “I’m going to get another drink.” She nodded in understanding.

At first, you actually were headed to get a drink, standing near the bar, waiting to flag down the bartender, who seemed to be frantically running around to collect orders and mix drinks. The club was definitely understaffed tonight.

A presence could be felt beside you, and a flicker of hope rooted in the pit of your stomach, maybe you wouldn’t be going home alone tonight. You turned your head slightly, peering over at the man, and apparently, he had the same idea. You cleared your throat, wishing you could’ve guzzled more alcohol before the encounter. Too late now, “This doesn’t look like your scene” you pointed out, your voice raised to overpower the music.

The light hit his face, and all the breath in your body vanished, everything about him was perfect. You tried to memorize the way he looked before the light left his face. “It’s not” he responded, his voice was smooth yet punctuated. Just by the way he held himself you could tell he was an intelligent individual.

You couldn’t help the girlish giggle his words drew out of you, “then what are you doing here? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“I’m here with a friend.” He answered, before saying another sentence. Unfortunately for him, it was drowned out by the music, fortunately for you, it gave you the perfect opportunity to get him alone.

Your friend was long forgotten as soon as the words left your mouth, “It’s really hard to hear in here, do you want to step outside?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder, pointing to the door in case he couldn’t hear you.

He retreated a bit, almost surprised at your bold question. For a moment you thought you had made a mistake, only for his head to nod as he brushed past you, making his way to the exit. Quickly you followed after him, the sudden change in his mood making your head spin. Yet, you were still determined to regain the higher ground, you were the predator, he was the prey, even if he didn’t know it.

The cool night air brought you back to earth, your feet halting just in time to keep yourself from running right into the man’s back. At that point, you realized you still didn’t know his name, and here you were, outside, practically alone with him, despite the few wandering pedestrians.

He turned back around to face you, his face visible now, and dear god was it a sight. His eyes were a deep hazel, and you were sure every woman on the planet was envious of his perfectly plump pink lips. He was definitely older than you, probably by quite a few years, but that never bothered you “Spencer.”

Confusion dawned your face, your eyes widening with realization, that was his name. “Y/N” you introduced, right now the two of you were neutral, but you craved the higher ground. You wanted your name to tumble from his lips, and his large hands to wrap in your hair. His eyes scanned your body slowly, lingering on your exposed legs.

You raised your fingers, snapping to get his attention, “my eyes are up here” you teased. Spencer’s head snapped up to meet your eyes, a flustered look on his face. The sound of your laughter filled the cool night air, “it’s okay, I don't mind you staring at me.” You took a step closer to him, watching as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. “I’ve been staring at you all night.” He didn’t retreat from you, and you took it as a sign to let your hands run lightly up his chest. A burning desire ignited in your stomach as he flinched at your touch.

“A-are you sure about this? You’re a lot younger than me.” He stumbled over his words, his body subconsciously leaning into your touch.

“I like my men older.” Your hands drifted south, fingertips dipping into the hem of his slacks. Spencer’s hands shot out, wrapping around your wrists, yanking them away from his body. With a quick tug, he had you pulled flush against him, his warm breath fanning over your ear.

With every slightly ragged breath he took, his chest rubbed against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, this was the exact reason you always went for older men. Guys your age were so boring, and inexperienced. But, this man would take his time with you, he would let his primal urges take over, he would absolutely break you. And that’s exactly what you wanted, and you knew every card to play to get what you wanted.

“You think you’re so cute? Acting like you’re the one in charge? I’m not even sure you could handle me.” Every perfectly punctuated syllable he spoke sent shockwaves to your core.

An inhale of the cold night air stuck in your throat, a sharp contrast to the warm body pressed up against you. “Funny” you began, yanking your wrists free from his grip, “I think you’re the one that can’t handle me.” It was exhilarating to see Spencer’s eyes darken with desire, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. His hands found a vice grip on your arms, pulling you from your dazed state. Whether it was the alcohol or lust that was clouding your mind, you didn’t know.

“I’m giving you one last chance to turn around, and pretend like this never happened.” If you weren’t so ready for this man to fuck you, you would say his statement was almost thoughtful. But, that was not you, some strange fate had brought the two of you together, and who would you be to pass up an opportunity like that?

There was no stopping the smile that wormed its way onto your face. You steadied yourself by latching your hands onto his forearms, now happy that you had worn heels. Your eyes locked on his, greedily enjoying the sight of his perfectly sculpted face as you spoke “not a chance in hell.” Just like that you were being roughly pulled to the parking lot of the club, and into the car of a stranger. You were very much aware that this man could be a serial killer for all you know, but who doesn’t make stupid decisions in college? The answer is girls without daddy issues.

The car ride was short, almost as if you had teleported to your destination. Which you assumed was Spencer’s apartment. His large hand had remained on your exposed thigh throughout the whole ride, his thumb rubbing teasing circles.

The second Spencer flicked on the light, and you closed the dark mahogany door, he was on you like a feral animal. His hands danced viciously up and down the curves of your body, his mouth moving in sync with yours. Your hands met his shoulder, fervently working to tear off his blazer. With every passing second, the heat coursing through your body became too much to bear. You just wanted to feel his smooth, warm skin against yours.

Air-filled your lungs as soon as you pulled away, the both of you panting for breath. His hands retreated from your body, beginning to unbutton his dress shirt. Taking the initiative, you reached for the zipper on the side of the dress, pulling it down slowly.

Spencer’s dark eyes scanned you like a hawk, seemingly memorizing your every move. The shimmering dress slipped from your shoulders, gliding over your hips with, surprisingly, little resistance. You could feel your nipples harden as the cool air kissed your skin, as the dress hadn’t required you to wear a bra. The fabric pooled at your feet, discarded as you stepped out of the circle of fabric.

A low grumble emitted from Spencer’s throat, he was clearly enjoying the show you were putting on for him. “See something you like?” You questioned, your voice seductively sweet.

“Definitely” he replied, his voice low and trickled with lust.

The two of you shared the same idea as you simultaneously took a step forward, closing the space. His mouth met yours in a frenzied kiss, the proximity causing your breasts to rub softly against his chest. Spencer trailed sloppy kisses down your neck, sucking softly here and there. A content sigh left your mouth, and your hands trailed up to tug on the hair at the nape of his neck.

Each kiss placed to your neck hit you straight in your core. It was times like these where you felt lucky to have daddy issues.

Spencer pulled back, his hands leaving your body to work on unbuckling his belt. You looked up, your eyes meeting his as he finished unbuckling the belt.

A smirk tugged at the corners of your lips, so far, Spencer’s actions hadn’t matched his words. Nothing he had done was rough or teasing. Luckily, you knew exactly how to push him. “You know, you’re all bark and no bite.” You pulled the belt from his pants, letting it clatter to the floor.

His arms crossed defensively over his chest, perfectly accentuating his biceps. “Really, you think so?” His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed as if mocking you.

Here we go. “Mhm,” you hummed. You spun on your heel, leaning down to pick up your discarded dress. “If you’re not going to fuck me like you said you would, I’m going to leave. You’re just wasting my time.”

You rose back up just in time to see Spencer rush forward, his hands meeting your shoulders. With a shove your back hit the wall, a huff escaping your lips from the impact. Before you could blink his large hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing lightly on the sides. His grip allowed him to angle your head up, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

His hair fell in his face, just above his eyebrows. Even with the yellow lighting of his apartment, he looked gorgeous. “You want to know what I think?” He paused, his other hand leaving your shoulder to run his thumb over your bottom lip. “I think…” he paused again, shoving his thumb into your mouth.

Now we’re talking, this is exactly what you had wanted. Your lips wrapped around his thumb, your tongue swirling around it. “I think you’re a young naive girl, with unresolved daddy issues, who’s desperate for attention from any male she can pull.”

His words should’ve made you run for the hills. You should’ve grabbed your dress and left. But he was right, his words didn’t hurt, in fact, they had the opposite effect. Arousal flooded your core as you rubbed your thighs together to relieve some tension.

“Enlighten me, am I right?” He pulled his thumb from your mouth, wiping the excess spit on your chin. You nodded, you felt like you were addicted to his every move, every intake of breath. His hand around your neck tightened, shocking you back to reality. “Am I right?” He growled, his voice slightly more punctuated than usual.

“Yes, yes, you’re right.” your voice cracked as his hand that was in your mouth began a slow trail down your stomach, running along the hem of your panties. Spencer leaned forward, his mouth resting next to your ear. “How desperate are you?” He whispered, drawing a light whine from your lips.

Your hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, trying to pull his hand to your core. “Please,” his hand dipped into the waistband of your underwear, fingertips trailing lightly over your folds.

The hand around your neck loosened its grip, allowing more air to flow into your lungs. Still, you felt suffocated, the pure lust clouding your mind and body. “Not so confident now, hm?”

Usually, this is the time where you would push back and take control, and show them you’re more than a pretty face. But that's not what Spencer was looking for, he wanted to watch you beg for him. So you would play nice, and give him that, as long as he gave you what you wanted.

You bit down on your bottom lip, shaking your head coyly. Spencer mimicked your action, his teeth dragging along his bottom lip. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes! Just fu-” you huffed, restraining yourself from acting out. “Just do something, please?” It was a well-balanced mixture between begging and demanding. You were obviously desperate, but you pleaded politely.

As if your pleading wasn’t enough already, you allowed your lips to pull into a pout, your eyes rounder than usual as you stared up at Spencer. “Since you asked so nicely” he replied, his fingers finally finding solace at your core, rubbing slow circles against your bundle of nerves.

Every moment of buildup was absolutely worth it as his fingers played you like a fiddle. Your mouth fell open, a low moan escaping your lips. “Spencer, fuck!”

“Look at you,” Spencer spat, his fingers moving down to your entrance. “Making a mess all over my hand.” Two of his long fingers entered you, crooking slightly. Your hand fell from his wrist, nails coming up to scratch back down his chest.

“Harder, fuck!” This is exactly what you wanted, his hands on your body, in your body, ravishing you. He obliged your request, the obscene sound of skin smacking against skin filling the room. Porn-worthy moans left your lips as his fingers curled more, rubbing perfectly against your dimpled patch of skin.

Your back arched off the wall, and your chest heaved with pants. If you wanted to keep your submissive control you would have to control yourself. It was hard to do with Spencer’s perfect fingers buried in your cunt, his other hand wrapped tightly around your neck, varying in pressure.

You lapped up every ounce of pleasure Spencer gave you. The feeling was addicting, your head clouded and free of external worries, as your eyes fluttered shut, lost in bliss. Your hips ground onto his hand as your orgasm approached.

The hand dancing on your windpipe retreated, quickly grabbing onto the sides of your face, forcing your lips into a pout. Your eyes snapped open, met with Spencer’s dark ones. “Look at me while you cum” his fingers worked faster, his wrist angling with every thrust so his palm would rub deliciously against your clit. “A man you just met, who you blindly followed into a car. How ignorant can you be? I guess it makes sense, you’re just another whore desperate for the validation of a man.”

His taunting words sent you barreling into your orgasm, screaming out his name over and over again. Your thighs clamped onto his hand, entrapping it between your legs. Spencer’s hand released your face, allowing your head to fall forward to rest against his chest. His free hand wrapped around your body, viciously digging into your ass.

Once your thighs relaxed, Spencer pulled his hand from your cunt, quick to bring them up to your mouth. “Open.” Your jaw fell open, allowing him to push his digits into your mouth. Immediately you alternated between sucking them and swirling your tongue around them, tasting yourself.

But your time together was rudely interrupted by a ringing that buzzed through the air, and you began to look around for the source of the sound. Your eyelids grew overwhelmingly heavy, and the scene around you became distorted, the colors swirling together. Finally, your body succumbed to the tiredness, allowing your eyes to shut and the ringing to fade.

When your eyes opened you were no longer in Spencer’s apartment, but your own dorm. Shit. You had slept through your alarm, too busy dreaming about your most recent one night stand.

Leave it to you to fuck up first impressions. Which is why you were speed walking to class in a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You no doubt looked like you had just rolled out of bed, but I mean, you had.

Criminology honestly wasn’t something you needed to take, it was more for fun. It had piqued your interest. You had a hatred for all things school-related, and you thought, maybe if you took more interesting classes, you would be more motivated to do your schoolwork. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful, your parents graciously decided to pay for your college. School was just something that was always difficult for you, and if you couldn’t meet everyone’s standards, what was the point in trying?

Money had never really been a problem for you growing up, and you were known to have a “bratty streak.” But, you tried your hardest to be humble, you knew your family was very fortunate to live the lifestyle they do. Sometimes, though, it could get the best of you, it was your biggest flaw, but at least you were self-aware.

You had really wanted to make a good impression, despite being the stereotypical “rich bitch,” you wanted to show there was more to you than miniskirts and sports cars.

You pushed open the dark wooden door slowly, trying not to disturb the lecture. At least you wouldn’t miss much, just the first half of the syllabus.

The professor turned to you, watching as you ducked your head, practically running up the auditorium and to the first open seat you saw. You hoped he would have resumed his lecture by the time you had set your stuff down, and picked up the syllabus off the table, but you were unlucky. His eyes were glued to you, you could feel them, and for the first time you looked up to see him.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Your eyes widened, and your jaw practically dropped to the floor, he seemed to reflect your look of astonishment. His hands frozen mid-air as if he was talking but suddenly stopped. There was no way, absolutely no way. How, how was this possible? What are the odds, what are the odds that your professor was Spencer, your most recent one night stand?

He stuttered like a deer in the headlights, his hands falling awkwardly to his sides. A hand from across the room shot up, and he immediately took the escape. “U-uh, yes?”

Your mind was reeling, how the hell had you fucked up this bad? What are the odds that your incredible one night stand turned out to be your professor?

Awkward couldn't even begin to describe the situation, and by the way Spencer’s body language shifted, you could tell he felt the same. His hands which usually flailed wildly while he spoke, stayed still at his sides, and his eyes looked anywhere but you.

By the time class was over, you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat, ready to bound out of the auditorium and switch classes. There was no way you could confront him, how are you supposed to, ‘oh, hey Spencer, how’s life? Still making girls come like crazy on your cock?’ Yeah, that definitely wouldn’t work.

You had already stuffed your laptop into your Louis Vuitton bag, pulling it over your shoulder. Students filed out of the room, and you prayed to every higher power that you disappeared into the crowd.

“Miss Y/N” fuck, if it were any other time, that phrase would be hot. You kept walking, in fact, you quickened your pace, and kept your eyes trained on the ground. “Miss Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?” His voice was louder this time and dripped with authority. Out of all people in the club, you picked your future professor! But, unfortunately for Spencer, you were known to be very stubborn, so you continued your way to the door, your pace picking up speed. You were sure you looked insane rushing to the door, pushing through the crowd of students.

You looked up, body coming to a halt just in time to keep yourself from crashing into the back of a large man. You tried to say excuse me, and push past him, but he was like a giant brick wall, planted right in front of the door. There was no way for you to look around him and even see why he had stopped in the doorway like a fucking idiot.

A hand wrapped around your arm, grabbing your attention, and the sight was like something from a taboo nightmare. Spencer let go of your arm quickly, probably realizing how unprofessional it would look to the other students. “Stay behind for a moment, we need to talk.”

Snickers coursed around you, there was absolutely no way you were ever going to live this down. Hopefully, the other students thought he was apprehending you for being late, you couldn’t exactly explain how you unknowingly slept with your professor.

You followed Spencer back to his desk, standing politely to the side as the two of you awkwardly waited for the room to clear out. As soon as it did, your polite manner disappeared, and your hands met your hips as you shifted your weight onto one leg. “What the fuck?”

Spencer’s eyes widened at your language, his jaw falling open slightly. “You never told me you were a professor!” You exclaimed.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a defensive state taking over his body, “and you never told me you were a student!”

“I didn’t think it mattered! I’m twenty-four!!” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest with an eye roll.

Spencer turned, planting his hands on his desk, “ you’re also my student!”

You groaned, so far neither of you were solving the problem, “no shit, sherlock!”

Spencer’s head turned, sending you a sharp glare. You hated to say it but that would've been so hot if it weren’t for the fact he was your professor.

“Let’s just keep things professional.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “so just pretend it never happened?” It would be a hard task if he was going to dress in a suit like that every day. His tie was a deep maroon color, contrasting against his cream undershirt. His blazer fit his shoulders well, hugging his body perfectly, and all you wanted to do was tear it off.

“Yes, I’m not going to make you switch classes. Neither of us knew, it would be unfair for me to punish you.” Spencer stated, pulling himself back from the desk to face you.

You shifted slightly at the word punish, who the hell uses the word punish in a non-sexual context? Biting your lip, you tried your hardest to suppress a giggle, it was just so hard. A giggle escaped your mouth, your hand flying up to cover your mouth.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, visibly confused by your outburst. “T-there’s no way you just said the word ‘punish’ in a non-sexual context,” you said between giggles.

Just then a ringing sounded through the room, cutting off your laughter. Spencer glanced at his phone, picking it up quickly, obviously seeking escape from you.

You spun on your heel, taking it as your cue to leave. Right as you approached the door Spencer called out your name, halting you. “Please put on some more appropriate clothing before coming to class.”

A smirk tugged at your lips, deep down you knew this wasn’t over. Especially not after that line, and while walking out the door you made sure to sway your hips a little more than usual.

The next few criminology classes you attended, you behaved like a good little girl. But, slowly, your clothing dwindled, until you had walked into class in a plaid pleated skirt and a cropped tank, the perfect schoolgirl. Now, this wasn’t your only tactic, from what you gathered over the few classes you experienced, nothing peeved Spencer like false factoids. Which you made sure to quote, as long as the numbers were off by one or two points.

Usually, Spencer would have no problem correcting people, but it was different when you were correcting him. Today was like any other, you felt his eyes on you as soon as you walked in the door. Yet you refused to give him the time of day, innocently talking to your friend as you took your seats. You were clad in a skirt, and an old band shirt you had cropped. The outfit seemed perfectly normal for someone your age, unless you counted the fact that the shirt was short enough to expose the bottom half of your lace black bralette.

The lecture began like any other, and you absentmindedly listened for the perfect time to cut in. You had been interested in the class in the beginning, but as always, your focus shifted on Spencer. The way his large hands moved when he spoke, and how he dug his teeth into his bottom lip. You were sure half the people in the class were just there to admire Spencer, I mean, can you blame them? Have you seen the man? He’s the definition of perfection.

Your hand shot up in the air, the corners of your mouth upturned in a slight smirk. You could practically see the dread in Spencer's eyes, his shoulders drooping slightly. “Yes?”

“Can you repeat that one more time?” You questioned, pulling your laptop in front of your body, as if ready to type.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed slightly, scanning you. “Oh, you don’t need to write it down.”

You looked up from your computer, feigning an innocent look as your head tilted slightly, “it sounded pretty important.”

He shoved his pockets, letting out a slight huff, “then maybe you should’ve paid more attention.” With that he continued his lecture, leaving you smirking to yourself. You were definitely getting under his skin.

You slid your computer into your bag, pulling it over your shoulder. For the first time, you initiated eye contact, turning to look at Spencer, only to find him glaring daggers at you. God, you were really in for it.

An innocent smile took over your face, deciding to push him just a bit further, you raised your hand giving him a teasing wave. If possible, his eyes got darker, and his arms crossed over his chest. His button-down was rolled up his arms, leaving his perfect veins on display.

His arms unfolded, one of his hands motioning you towards him. Who would you be to ignore him? You bounded down the stairs, anticipation winding in your stomach. You stopped at the bottom of the stairs, watching as the last group of students walked out of the door.

Your body shifted towards Spencer, “what's up?” You asked.

He scoffed, shaking his head in astonishment, “what do you want from me?”

A sickly sweet smile curled onto your face as you took a few steps closer to Spencer, like a lioness circling her prey. “I’m pretty sure you know what I want Dr. Reid.” With another couple slow steps forward you were within a foot of Spencer. “You’re a smart cookie.”

The corners of Spencer’s mouth twitched into a smirk, mimicking your own. His arm shot out, wrapping swiftly around your elbow, and with one sharp tug, you were chest to chest with Spencer.

His hot breath hit your ear with the new proximity, “correct me if I’m wrong. You want me to bend you over my desk, hike up your pathetic excuse of a skirt, and fuck you until you’re shaking around my cock?”

Someone needed to call the firefighters, because it was getting hot in there. Your mouth fell open in a delirious smile. “I don’t think I’m the only one here who wants that.” You ran a hand down his chest, continuing its trail till it stopped to rest over the slight bulge in his slacks.

Spencer let out a light groan at your touch, “you’re my student.” He protested.

“You’re not pushing me away, professor.”

At first, the only sign he gave you that you had won him over was his tongue poking out to wet his lips. But, quickly, using the hand on your elbow as leverage, he spun you around, shoving you face-first into his desk.

The impact caused you to let out a sharp yelp, your breasts squished harshly against the desk, the wood pressing hard into the top of your thighs. “How taboo, professor, fucking your bratty student over your desk.”

His hand tangled in the roots of your hair, pulling your head back slightly, so you were facing the auditorium. He leaned over you, his breath hitting your ear, and his now noticeable bulge rubbing against your ass. “You think I’m just going to fuck you? A pathetic whore like you doesn’t deserve my cock.”

His words pulled a giggle from your lips, quick to remind him, “well, you already have.”

You wanted to push him to the edge, you craved to feel the anger coursing through him as he pounded you into the desk. He let out a huff, the smooth skin of his hands brushing against your backside as he hiked up your skirt, exposing your ass. A laugh sounded through the air, and he hooked a finger in the lace fabric of your black thong, pulling lightly and letting it snap back against your skin. “Did you wear this just for me?”

“Would you want me to?” You could tell your snide comments were irking him, as his hands ran over your smooth skin, gripping harshly at your ass.

His hands left your skin, and the rustling of fabric could be heard behind you. “Open your mouth.” Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, still, you obeyed, letting your jaw fall open. Fabric filled your mouth as he pulled his tie around your head as a makeshift gag, working to knot the two ends behind you. A muffled protest left your mouth, and you attempted to push yourself from the desk.

But, Spencer had other plans, one of his palms fell to the small of your back, pushing you firmly back against the desk. “I’m tired of your backtalk, you’ll speak when spoken to. Understand?”

You nodded your head against the desk, but that wasn’t what he wanted, as he spoke again, “do you understand?” His voice was sharp and enunciated, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t around you.

“Yeth thir” you garbled through the tie, the pure humiliation of your distorted voice causing a flush to cover your cheeks.

Spencer hummed lightly, “what a pretty sound, almost as pretty as this one.” Once again you were left confused, the answer coming in the form of a swift smack as his hand collided with your ass. Your body lurched forward against the desk, a muffled scream leaving your mouth.

“Thank me, sweetheart. You’re lucky I’m even touching you.” Spencer growled out, before his hand came crashing down again against your backside. It was harsh and painful, yet you didn’t want him to stop. You were sure it must’ve hurt his hand, you know it would hurt yours.

“Thank you, thir.” The tie was warm in from your hot breath, and you could feel spit starting to trail out the corners of your mouth. Never in your life could the term hot mess be so accurate.

Spencer continued his assault on your ass, again and again, leaving your skin red hot and burning. Each time you thanked him, and each time your speech became more and more pathetic as you squirmed against the desk. The overwhelming desire getting the best of you.

His finger hooked in your underwear, this time pulling them to the side. His long digits parted your slick folds. “Maybe I will fuck you, not sure if I’ll let you cum though.” He thought aloud.

You whined at his words, stretching out against the desk to push your ass back towards him, longing for more friction. The action caused his fingers to run deliciously over your clit, eliciting a low moan from your mouth.

“Pleath, pleath fuck me.” It was crazy how quick he could break down your resolve, no longer fighting, but rather eagerly submitting to him.

His touch left your body, the glorious sound of clinking metal and rustling clothes following his retreat. “You’re lucky you’re such a pretty whore.” One of his hands met the side of your hip, the other reached up to grab a hold of your hair. The head of his cock pushed past your folds as he sheathed himself inside you.

The sounds and curses you released were muffled by the tie, Spencer pulled back almost completely, before slamming back into you. The feeling of his warm cock plunging in and out of you was incredible, and you were sure he felt the same, as he let out low moans behind you.

With each thrust his hips smacked against your sore ass, adding to the redness. The hand buried in your hair began to yank you back in time with his thrusts. “Is this what you wanted? For me to bury my cock in you? For me to punish you?”

You attempted to answer, but all that came out was a screech. His hand left your hair, letting the top half of your body collapse onto the desk. He used both hands to grab your hips, pulling you up as he thrusted, the new angle allowed him to brush against your g-spot. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and your jaw clenched, teeth baring down on the tie.

It was times like these that made you question whether or not you were a sex addict. Because the feeling of being filled was completely intoxicating, you never wanted it to end. “You know, you’re a very smart girl. Maybe if you thought with your head more, and not your cunt, you would do better in my class.”

Well, it was hard to pay any attention when your professor was Spencer fucking Reid. He laughed behind you, “but you can’t do that, can you? You’re so desperate for cock, that you purposely corrected me with false information so you could get a rise out of me.”

Your body had devolved to a moaning mess, and you squirmed unceremoniously against the desk. You could feel your orgasm threatening to overtake you from the telltale signs of your legs beginning to shake under you, and your hips rutting back against Spencer wildly.

“It worked, didn’t it? You got what you wanted? Because, now you’re here, cumming on my cock.”

Like magic, his words pulled your orgasm from your body. You sobbed into the tie, and your nails scratched against his desk. You barely registered Spencer pulling out behind you, groaning as ropes of his cum coated your ass.

Heavy breaths filled the room as the two of you came down from your orgasms. “You okay?” Spencer rasped. His hands came up to your head, fumbling with the knotted tie.

The tie slipped from your mouth, falling onto the desk. “Yeah,” your voice was equally as hoarse as his, if not more.

“Good,” he replied.

Your next class of Professor Reid’s you actually decided to pay attention and withhold your annoying commentary. Like always, the students began to file out when the class ended, yet you took your time. When the last student walked out you turned to Spencer, watching as his head tilted slightly. He was thinking, probably figuring out what you were trying to do. But, there was no need for that.

You walked to his desk, a genuine smile etched onto your face. “You up for lunch, Dr.Reid?”

His eyes narrowed at you, a light smile crossing his face, “just lunch?”

“Hmm… maybe more than lunch.” You giggled.

He turned picking up his satchel, and pulling it over his head, to rest across his body. “Only if you promise to be a good girl.” He said, taking a step towards you.

You pouted playfully at him, “I’m never good, doctor.” The statement caused the two of you to laugh, before you were off to a discreet lunch.

Tag list: @pinkdiamond1016 @gubler-squad @obsessed-with-spencerreid

#criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #matthew gray gubler #mgg fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader

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talesofafangirlwithadvr · 3 years

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April 2021 Picks

And we’re back with the end to another month. April! Wow! Lots more great picks to talk about this time. Lots of new ones to the list too. So, let’s dive in!

Spoiler territory ahead!

THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER

or should I say Captain America and the Winter Soldier

I just finished the finale last night, so it felt right to start off with The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I really enjoyed it and I feel the episodes got stronger as the series went on. Each one felt like a mini-movie and I was upset it was over and had to wait another week for another one. I think the finale was my favorite. Especially the reveal of Sam as Captain America. I love his suit, his speech and the montage of everyone watching him. The last part of the episode was definitely my favorite and one I can watch on repeat. I loved seeing happy Bucky and him goofing off with the kids in Louisiana. He deserves so much happiness as he has now accepted he’s no longer who he once was. Bucky and Sam’s relationship is fantastic and I can’t wait to see it more. I know there’s a possibility of a second season and they have to be in a future MCU movie. Regarding the villain, I feel I was confused for most of the show as to what their objective was. I’m curious if this is because they had to reshoot parts during the pandemic. I also am mad with Sharon. Like what happened with her? She is definitely the true villain of the show. I also don’t love that we haven’t seen the end of Walker (but Wyatt Russell did a fantastic job). I also loved Torres and I hope he becomes the next Falcon. Definitely so different vibes from Wandavision, but just as good!

THE IRREGULARS

This is a show that more people need to be talking about! It was SO GOOD! I feel like I heard some buzz about it when it first came out, but not much after. It follows the teens featured about who live on the streets during Victorian London. The leader of their group, Bea gets approached by Dr. John Watson (that’s right...as in Sherlock and Watson) to take on a case that has more supernatural qualities. The story takes off from there. I think the group dynamic was fantastic. There wasn’t a character I didn’t like and each one brought something else important to the group (which they even bring up towards the end of the show). [I’ve watched a few cast interviews since finishing the finale and they seem like they get along really well in real life too.] There is a kind of love triangle, but it didn’t bother me and was over fast. I did like both combinations though. Lots of twists and turns along the journey. I have no idea if there will be another season, but there should be. It didn’t end on a major cliffhanger, but definitely ended in a way where it could continue nicely. Come on Netflix.

HBO’S THE NEVERS

From one show set in Victorian times to the next. The Nevers just premiered on HBO and HBO Max earlier this month. It follows an ensemble of characters, similar to other HBO shows, ranging from characters who are called “the touched” to men in government who are against them. Being “touched” means they have a special talent or power, which can range from healing to speaking other languages, being extremely tall, or being an expectational inventor (I seriously love Penance. I just don’t know how to explain her ability). Amalia True and Penance Adair are two of the main characters and they help bring in others who are touched to a remodeled orphanage that is a safe haven for people like them. Of course there are those who are against them existing. This seems to be at least two groups as someone is abducting and experimenting on some of the touched, but we don’t know who they are...yet. I love the fusion of a historical setting with a fantasy element. I am very excited to see where the show is headed. I also love seeing so many of my favorite British actors on the screen together.

ONCE UPON A TIME IN WONDERLAND

Time for a throw back. Fans of ABC’s Once Upon a Time might remember the short lived spin off following Alice in Wonderland (and some of Aladdin). It only lasted for one season of 13 episodes, but I remember loving it and I am so happy I can rewatch it on Disney Plus. It reminds me of why I enjoyed OUAT so much and I think this show deserved another season or more crossover with the original show. (Luckily the Knave got that opportunity.) I think it should have aired as a summer show or when OUAT was on hiatus, this way more fans would have tuned in. It is something I’ll believe forever.

Anyway, I’ll stop ranting now... I love Alice. I think she’s a badass and a fierce warrior. If you follow some of my posts on my other blog, Lydia-yougowith-Stiles, you’ll know that I love a warrior romance and Cyrus and Alice fit that perfectly (even if they are apart for much of the series). I also love Alice’s hair and outfits. Everything about her is cool. Her relationship with the Knave is one of my favorite friendships ever. I think they balance each other out so well and how they spend most of the journey together. Back in the day, I totally shipped them, but now I definitely don’t. (Even though I don’t love Anastasia.) This is definitely worth the watch if you’ve ever heard of Once Upon a Time or not. There is very cheesy CGI especially for 2013, but once you get pass that you’ll love it.

ZOEY’S EXTRAORDINARY PLAYLIST

It was on a longer break than I expected, and I didn’t miss it as much as I thought I would (which I know doesn’t sound good for a show), but I am still loving all the episodes this season. It feels like there are more musical numbers, which I love. Mandy Moore is killing it with the choreography. There are so many amazing moments. I also was a big fan of the newest glitch episode. Everyone is so talented and I also like that we’ve started to hear from more like Jenna and Tobin. Leif has become one of my favorites. I don’t love the new neighbor next door, but I think we’re done with his storyline. I’m not loving the Zoey love triangle, but I do like her with either Simon or Max. She seems really happy with Simon now. (FYI: I haven’t watched the most recent episode yet. The glitch one was my latest.) Can’t wait for more!

KUNG FU

CW’s newest show this month was Kung Fu, which I just learned was a reboot. It follows Nicky who returns after 3 years to her home in San Francisco. Her family has mixed feelings as she has had no contact with them for the last 3 years. She is now a Kung Fu master and warrior, out to avenge her mentor’s death and stop a villain from acquiring mythical weapons. The show gives me Arrow vibes every time I watch it. It has similar flashbacks each episode to an earlier time in Nicky’s life. While Nicky’s mission is different, the style just gives me early seasons of Arrow vibes, which I am not complaining about. It stars Legacies’ Alyssa Chen, who I didn’t love on Legacies, but instantly fell in love with Nicky. I think she’s a bad ass character and love how she’s fighting for the underdogs on the streets of San Fran, while also taking down a bigger evil. The love triangle is heating up and I’m definitely team Henry (even though there’s some mystery there). I think he’s great and once again we have an awesome warrior romance. They balance each other so well and it’s only been like 3 episodes. Now they’ve also been sleuthing together and it’s just amazing.

NANCY DREW

Are you sick of hearing me talk about CW’s Nancy Drew? I hope not because I’m going to fangirl again. I LOVE THIS SHOW SO MUCH! I can’t wait till Wednesday comes and I tune in a little after it starts, so then I can fast forward on my DVR. Then when the episode is over I basically start it all over again and watch select scenes that were awesome. (More specifically, they tend to be Nancy and Ace scenes because I love them and we’re entering so much angst I don’t know if my heart will be able to handle it!!!)

I’ll say it a thousand times: THIS CAST IS EVERYTHING! Their dynamic is amazing. You can have any match ups and it’ll be a great time. There is not one person I don’t like. I was so upset that there wasn’t a new episode last week (especially because it was my birthday). I loved the last one with the Hardy Boys and that Nace reveal! OMG! I’m so sad that Grant has left again because we barely had him, but I feel he’ll eventually come back. He has to. I loved the ending when he spoke to Thom by signing to him. (My heart!) I seriously can’t say enough great things about this show. It is not your typical CW show and deserves more love and views. So happy a third season has already been confirmed!!

LAST NOTES

Just started Shadow and Bone on Netflix and am loving it! I’m sure I’ll have an entire post dedicated to it when I’m done. (Currently going to start episode 6.) I have no background on the universe or the books (just what my sister is filling me in with as we watch). I definitely plan on reading Six of Crows after this!

So what are you enjoying? Let me know. I’m always looking for more shows to add to the list! Can never have enough.

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dercolaris · 3 years

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Glass

Fandom: Batman

Characters: Edward Nygma, Jonathan Crane

Relationship: Edward Nygma & Jonathan Crane (None-romantic)

Genre: Hurt & Comfort

Word length: 2004

Warnings: No warnings

Status: Complete

Short Summary: Sometimes we are our own enemies and one mistake is making the fragile glass collapse.

"John?" The former psychiatrist slowly opened his eyes, blinking in surprise into the darkness around him. The brown-haired man groan softly and sat up on the hard mattress, wiping his hands a few times over his tense face. The Master of Fear moved closer to the musty wall behind him and carefully leaned the back of his head against the rock. After a while he answered calmly: "Yes, Edward?" There was a faint rustling from the neighbouring cell, suggesting that the Riddler had finally taken his place on his cot and leaned against the wall as well. The tinkerer had been brought to Arkham that night. As usual, at this point he hadn't spoken a single word to anyone. It was never easy for the younger man to accept a defeat and face the truth that his desired perfection was nothing more than a farce. The wind howled loudly through the long corridor of the prison ward. Jonathan shivered under the cool temperatures of November. The asylum was poorly isolated and left enough loopholes in the stone to drive inmates to death after a single night.

The Master of Fear stared at the bare wall without looking away, counting the seconds inwardly. The gaunt man let his breath out of his mouth, watching it turn into white mist before his eyes to finally disappear in the air. A barely audible sob drew his attention to the person in the next cell. It was about time. The brown-haired man propped his chin on his bony hand and spoke soothingly: "You are taking it too much to heart again, Edward. You know that." The tinkerer seemed to want to maintain his control, but the strong snort could be clearly heard. The Riddler finally replied in a cracked voice: “I'm better than him, John. I swear to you. I'm fucking better than that wannabe detective. I ... I ...” His voice broke off abruptly, replaced by a muffled whimper. Jonathan slowly pulled his left leg up and set it up at an angle, wrapped his other hand around his knee. The former psychiatrist watched a small river of rainwater run down the prison wall. He brushed a loose strand of hair from his forehead and asked coolly: "Should we repeat our deep conversations from last time about your issues?" The whimpering stopped suddenly. Instead, the rustling of the thin quilt could be heard.

Edward coughed behind his fist and replied with a dry throat, "No thanks." The Master of Fear looked out into the corridor for a moment. A security guard was making his nightly tour and was using the bright flash light to illuminate the interiors of the cells. Jonathan finally hit the beam too for a moment. The man paused and growled almost angrily: “Is there actually a night when you sleep for once, Crane? My co-workers soon get nightmares when they have to see your ugly face every time they work a night shift.” The former psychiatrist put on a fake smile and gave a slight shrug. He replied cold-heartedly: "Really terrible, but my pity is actually limited for your colleagues." The guard hit the iron bars with the baton and seemed to be about to act fitting to his anger. It wouldn't be the first time an inmate had been harmed by the staff. The man finally snorted angrily, but continued down the hall without another word. Only when his steps had clearly moved away Jonathan dared to speak again: "You promised me something, Edward. Do you remember?" The tinkerer did not answer this comment for a long time. For a moment, the former psychiatrist even believed that the other had not heard him or was deliberately ignoring it. The cot squeaked a little before the Riddler replied tearfully: “What do you want to hear from me now, John? That you were right again? Are you finally satisfied and stop pushing me deeper into the dust? You're a shitty friend, if I'm even allowed to call a psychopath like you a friend.”

Jonathan suppressed a sigh. He had seen this direction of the conversation coming, of course, and yet it shook him again and again how quickly the black-haired man could be driven to defensive reactions. Basically, the former psychiatrist hadn't even said anything hurtful or criticizing by now. His entire non-verbal attack took place in the mind of the tinkerer and apparently already with such an intensity that he became hostile towards him. Jonathan crossed his arms over his narrow chest and spoke matter-of-factly: “I only reminded you of a promise that you made to me during the last stay. Nothing more, but nothing less either.” At these words, the addressed person seemed to continue to crouch on the wet mattress. Whimpering sounds came from the other cell again. A loud scream suddenly echoed from the depths of the wing, followed by completely incomprehensible words and scraps of sentences. Jervis seemed to be hallucinating vigorously again. The Riddler sniffed hesitantly and replied, completely defeated: "How the hell am I supposed to be able to look myself in the eyes with pride when I make one stupid mistake after another and the whole world is constantly laughing at me." Jonathan looked down at the icy cold stone floor.

A malnourished rat crawled eagerly towards the small desk, frantically gnawing at the brittle wood. She seemed to be freezing. The Master of Fear leaned forward with a smile and lowered his arm towards the animal. When his hand almost touched the ground, the rat willingly hopped up on his fingers, climbing onto the former psychiatrist's lap. There the rodent finally curled up and sought shelter from the cold between the brown-haired man's legs, clearly shivering. The thin man gently stroked the rat's thin fur as he reassuringly replied: "I'm not laughing at you, Edward, so it's not the whole world." The tinkerer snorted contemptuously and called back a little too loudly: "Can you do anything else than lecture everyone around you?" The beam of the flash light slowly came closer again. It wasn't a minute before the guard's angry face appeared in front of the bars. He cracked his fingers threateningly and hissed angrily: "I have told Dr. Young so many times that it's not a good idea to put you guys together again. Please talk quietly, otherwise I'll get uncomfortable. Understand?” Neither of the two answered this question. The guard seemed to interpret this as consent and shortly thereafter disappeared back into the guard's house. Jonathan leaned his head back against the wall and said gently: “I'm just trying to help you. Your constant urge for validation is a heavy curse on your shoulders and will eventually eat you up from the inside. You've also been desperately looking for recognition in the wrong places for years. It's hard to watch you doing the same mistakes all over again."

Edward suddenly hit the wall hard with his fist. The former psychiatrist seemed to have hit a nerve. The tinkerer hissed almost aggressively: “Shut up, Crane! You don't know anything about me! Nothing! Absolutely nothing! You can put your shitty diploma and years of experience somewhere else or up your ass!” Jonathan could hear the Riddler's ego slowly crumbling. Sharp-edged splinters trickled onto the floor, drawing wide circles around the feeble villain on the damp cot. Meanwhile, the lean man lovingly scratched the rat's head. The rodent seemed visibly comfortable in the orange fabric of the prison clothing and sunk the little claws deeper into the thin pants. After a while the older one asked calmly: "Why are you so angry, Edward?" Silence. Even the tinker's crying stopped after this simple question. Jonathan relaxed his eyes and waited. He knew the Riddler would not find an answer that would allow him not to ponder the real cause of his anger. The black-haired man started to speak, but didn't seem to find the right words. Finally he replied curtly: "I don't know." The former psychiatrist pulled the rancid blanket over his legs. Edward had perfected his ability to lie to himself and to convince others of it over the last ten years. The brown-haired man scratched his stubbly chin before answering: "I thought we were past this point right now, but if you prefer to lie to me or rather to yourself, we can end this conversation now."

Jonathan wandered with his bony fingers on the back of the rat, which tiredly rolled over on its stomach and enjoyed the gentle touch. He knew that the Riddler would eventually collapse under the tremendous pressure of his thoughts. A longed-for breakdown that could open new passages for better treatments. The black-haired man suddenly stuttered, clearly frightened: "John, please wait, I ..." The former psychiatrist looked leisurely back at the musty wall, gently moving his fingers in a circular motion on the fur. More splinters soiled the floor in the neighbouring cell, trickled down from a shattered statue and gradually slipped between the bars out into the corridor of the asylum. The Master of Fear did not dare utter a sound at that moment. The wind began to force its way through the cracks in the wall again. Finally, the brown-haired man heard the tinkerer's voice again, but this time much more concerned and uncertain than before: "It hurts to hear the truth, John."

The former psychiatrist nodded approvingly, even if the Riddler couldn't really see the gesture. Jonathan replied after a while sensitively: “I know, but only by facing the truth you can find your way out of this precarious situation and at some point realize that you have a firm place in this world even without constant validation from others. You don't have to prove to anyone that you are worth living.” The Master of Fear put the now sleeping rat on his pillow and covered it with the warming blanket. Then he carefully got up from the bunk and went to his desk, looking for a notepad among the several books. While he was looking for it, the Riddler began to speak again: "My heart has probably understood this to some extent, but my mind vehemently defends itself against this realization." Jonathan took his pen in his hand and wrote a few lines on the yellowed paper. He stopped suddenly, thought hard. The older one finally replied reassuringly: "I want to give you something again for this stay, Edward. A piece of paper just like last time.”

The Master of Fear folded the paper once, then stepped to the iron bars and handed it as best he could in the direction of the neighbouring cell. It took a few seconds for the Riddler to get up from his position and move to the entrance of his cell. For a brief moment their fingers touched while Edward reached for the paper. Then both disappeared back into their own solitude behind the bars. Jonathan sat down on the bunk again and bedded his head against the cold wall behind him. The loud squeaking from the other side suggested that Edward was also back in his previous place. There was an inaudible clang as the tinker's glass figure shattered into thousands of pieces. The former psychiatrist listened to the bitter weeping behind the wall and felt a heavy load fall from his heart. He explained sensitively: “Please internalize these words. In your case we sometimes have to take a different path to finally help you appropriately. Good night.” Edward stared at this piece of paper for a long time, even after Jonathan was long asleep. A tear dripped onto the paper. The tinkerer closed his eyes tightly and whispered into the cold room: "Thank you John." A flawed statue had been broken that night. A questionable work of art that was built from glass so brittle that even the splinters could not be put back together again. However, at the same time, a new base was set for building something more stable - it would just take time.

#DC #Batman #Riddler #Scarecrow #Jonathan Crane #Edward Nygma #Scriddler #Riddlecrow #Hurt & Comfort

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dinosaurtsukki · 4 years

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housemates with shiratorizawa

helloo!! new headcanon series here hehe. i hope you like this very long set of headcanons!

how you ended up in a house with these guys:

they're such a tight-knit bunch considering the fact that they've been living in a dormitory throughout high school

it was probs semi or kawanishi who suggested getting an extra roommate to help with the rent (tendou and goshiki are accident prone they need someone to help pay for repairs)

so ushijima made and put up an ad for an extra housemate. although he didn't disclose the fact that you'd be rooming with 7 other dudes

you were kind of desperate for some housing at this point so you just went with it

the person who greets you at the door is shirabu. but its more like he saw you, your bag, and went back inside the house leaving the door open

you stood there for a whole ten minutes before kawanishi came up to invite you inside

you're instantly greeted by goshiki and semi cleaning the house like crazy. semi was punching a couch cushion so that it looked an extra soft pillow

tbh the only normal you see are ushijima and reon. they're probs the ones who interviewed you to see if you were a good fit as their housemate

despite how weird your first impressions of some of your housemates were, you were still keen to move in

and then that's when tendou decided to come home from the pet shop with an iguana

living there:

you're roommate ends up being shirabu because no one else wanted to room with him (jk they all drew straws and he was lucky)

he's a pretty good roommate: clean, keeps to himself, doesn't play music too loudly

except the fact that he ALWAYS HOGS THE UPSTAIRS BATHROOM

the bathroom might as well just be his because it's FULL of beauty products. also shirabu takes a million years to get ready that at this point, everyone uses the downstairs bathroom

lmao y'all get your revenge tho by using some of shirabu's products when he's gone

its particularly you, semi, tendo, and kawanishi who like to do that

kawanishi: *walks past shirabu*

shirabu: bitch, did you use my fucking Splash of Pomegranate with Exfoliating Sesame Seeds: Rainforest of the Sun Bath and Body Works shower gel?

kawanishi:...no?

semi and reon are both roommates and are probably the most normal people in the house which is saying something

also idk why i feel like they both have a thing for scented candles but they're too shy to tell anyone

like,,, they have a closet full of scented candles and everything

reon: hey, want me to light up Spring Lake or Summer's Kiss?

semi: Summer's Kiss all the way

that's why they always keep their door locked and whenever someone knocks, they quickly snuff out the candle and fan the smoke out of the windows

you: whoa, why does it smell so nice here?

semi: ...air freshener

is kawanishi the only sane, normal person in the house? yeah, probably

he's the one who remembers to get groceries and buy toilet paper and shit and he's so happy he has you to help him out

the thing is though, he's a NOTORIOUS prankster. like, nobody suspects him because they assume its tendou who put packets of ketchup under the toilet seat but no, it was kawanishi

but his favorite person to mess with is his roommate: goshiki

okay goshiki is a Heavy Sleeper and one night you and kawanishi decided to draw criss-cross stocking marks on his legs with permanent marker

goshiki is an alright housemate. he's polite, does his assigned chores, rarely gets into your privacy

but oh my god every morning at 5 am he wakes up the entire house BY BLENDING PROTEIN SHAKES

you and shirabu considered soundproofing your room or chaining goshiki to his bed

ONE OF THE HOUSE'S GREATEST MYSTERIES: how does goshiki cut his hair?

tendou knows you've been dying to know why so one day he's all 'do you really wanna know?' and you're like 'HECC YEAH' and he takes your arm and brings you to goshiki's room

in there you find him with a bowl on his head and cutting along the rim with his scissors

shirabu is also with him but he has a ruler for his bangs

its the only time they ever get along

tendou and ushijima has hands-down the most chaotic room set-up

for one, half of it, ushijima's half, looks like a traditional japanese house

you know that scene in BNHA where todoroki was showing off his room? yes that one

y'all are like 'how was he able to bring tatami mats in his room?'

and then tendou's half looks like a weird-ass storage room complete with an iguana tank (yes he kept it)

tendou probs has those color-changing lights too

and the funny part about it is that both ushijima and tendou are completely okay with the set-up

also tendou has the most irregular schedule ever. like,,, circadian rhythms just wasn't installed in the being that is Tendou Satori

like,, he'll be making mac and cheese at 3 am and just enter your room asking if you want anything

you: WHY WOULD I WANT MAC AND CHEESE AT 3 AM???

shirabu, who's still awake because he's a med student: i'll have some

ushijima on the other hand has such a set schedule and daily routine. he's the definition of 'working like clockwork'

you guys even use him as your clock because why not?

you: guys what time is it?

reon: ushijima just left for his morning run so probably 7am

the only thing is that ushijima,,, generally doesn't cook??

and by that he likes to eat raw vegetables. no seasoning, no nothing

and he always offers to make people snacks and he does it so sincerely that you can't help but accept his snacks

*insert scene of you eating raw carrots at 11 pm while studying*

house incident: everyone being a closeted fan of Naruto

everyone in shiratorizawa is a closeted naruto fan (except for a few but we’ll be discussing) and no i don’t accept criticism on this

goshiki MAY have rock lee’s signature bowl cut and sometimes walks around the house in leg weights but he doesn’t say who he copies them from outright

but EVERYONE ELSE

you started having your suspicions when you walked into semi and reon’s room looking for a pencil and found semi sitting in bed with a pile of tissues around him and his laptop on his lap

you guys stare at each other for a while and semi just quickly yells “I WAS WATCHING PORN”

you: I DON’T NEED TO KNOW WHAT YOU’RE WATCHING

my boy semi was actually crying to that part in naruto when zabuza and haku died

his roommate reon on the other hand has a secret tattoo

it’s a sharingan tattoo and its on his back, just between his shoulder blades, which is why he doesn’t go around shirtless (his favorite character is itachi don’t @ me)

reon probably owns an akatsuki cloak too

kawanishi has an ENTIRE playlist of the naruto opening and ending tracks that he got from youtube and converted into mp3 format on youtube mp3 converter which he then downloaded and organized into a playlist with the album art when he was thirteen

sometimes you’ll hear him whistling Ikimono Gakari and everyone in the house is all 👂👂👂

tendou is the only one not lowkey about it but he’s not lowkey about anything he likes

and then one day you and tendou are in the kitchen and ushijima decides to watch tv while eating breakfast

while flipping through the channels he comes across the rock lee vs. gaara fight and he just decides to watch while eating

tendou’s like ‘wakatoshi? do you,,, like naruto?’

ushijima: is this naruto? it looks pretty cool

AND THEN YOU AND TENDOU JUST AMBUSH HIM AND GO INTO A TED TALK ABOUT HOW AWESOME NARUTO IS

while you’re busy ranting about it, semi, goshiki, and reon, who recognize the unmistakable Sounds of Naruto, creep downstairs

semi: oh, cool. it’s naruto

reon: yeah, used to watch it when i was a kid

goshiki: hmm, seems like an alright show

and then USHIJIMA LOOKS AT GOSHIKI AND THEN AT ROCK LEE AND JUST GOES

‘hey, you remind me of that guy’

AND GOSHIKI ALMOST CRIES

reon and semi end up sitting on the couch, trying to hold in their middle-school selves while watching

and then kawanishi comes in and he’s just like OH MY GOD NARUTO!!

now almost everyone in the house is watching. at that part when rock lee drops his weights reon and semi jump off the couch and cheer

they can’t hold themselves back anymore

last but not the least, shirabu, who came back from class, walks into the living room to find all of his housemates cheering and crying in front of the TV that’s playing naruto

shirabu: omg u guys are lame

goshiki, sobbing: WE’RE NOT LAME IF WE FOLLOW OUR NINJA WAY

shirabu: welL, OBVIOUSLY THE BEST FIGHT SCENE IS WHEN NARUTO AND ROCK LEE GO AGAINST KIMIMARO YOU UNCULTURED FUCKS

and then he runs up to his room before coming down with THE FULL BLU-RAY DISC SET OF NARUTO ALL THE WAY UNTIL SHIPPUDEN

basically you guys end up watching naruto all day and semi finally admitted that he wasn’t watching porn the day you came into his room

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos @miyumtwins @strawberriimilkshake @pocubo @sugawara-sweetheart@akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan@therainroguefanfiction@atetiffdoesart@stephdaninja@oikaw-ugh@charliefredb@dramaqueenweeb1469@tremblinghearts@applepienation@doodleniella

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sanchoyo · 3 years

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danny phantom, season 3 episodes 3-6 thoughts!

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-johnny was actually pretty civil with danny and left when he asked! thats nice. also, SKULKER?? HAD A FRAMED PICTURE OF EMBER?? oooo fuck wait had they established they were a Thing Before?? I dont think so. thats weird. its like that country boy/goth girl meme lmfao. I think i am going to choose to ignore this new info and pretend I didnt hear it. 100% unrelated to the jazz/ember fanart I already drew and posted....😳

-LADIES NIGHT EPISODE THIS IS WHAT ITS ALL ABOUT. wish it didnt really center around the guys or them being pissed at them, but. willing to bet this was written by men lol

-THEY ERASED ALL THE MEN??? meanwhile, jack and danny are fishing at. silent hill or something. im glad jack is trying to read a parenting book and making an Attempt. (theyre at lake erie, but, they made it actually eerie...thats fun)

-the girls alt outfits...cute. EMBER MADE A NEW SONG TOO!!! kinda. jazz being one of the backup singers and being AWFUL. NOOOO

-'how are we going to get kitty to blow a kiss?' 'she'll have to think there are still some males in town!' ...i dont know how to break it to you, but I dont know that a 100% het girl would wish for all men to Begone. I think. I mean im not a het or a girl so I dont really know for sure. she Is probably Bi tho. esp having the other ladies in town chanting NO MEN!!! excitedly............(then again, the kiss is to get Rid of men, so, she probably would have blown it at the ladies only if they were actively trying to attack/stop them, so...I MEAN. THE DRESSING LIKE DANNY BIT WAS SO EXTRA)

-I feel like an all female cast ep couldve been way way way way cooler than that was. like. why was it still somehow all about Men. ...anyway. (where was valerie...)

-next ep opens with the observants, and, way way more of them than I expected...existed? I mean I guess them being a council/jury of some kind is what I expected from their first appearance (bc at that time they were basically TELLING clockwork to kill danny, not asking,, so I figured they had SOME kind of authority) but. there were so many. anyway, here goes vlad! letting his own hubris go brrrr. releasing a weather ghost for political gain! #justvladthings

-okay say what you will about him (he IS an asshole) but having an umbrella with his own face on it and more prepared to share is SUPER FUNNY. and him being fanned by huge wads of money by his bodyguards. SO ineffective but so Dramatic. He UNDERSTANDS that if youre rich you need to be. you know. obnoxious and kinda eccentric about it! fuckign hate when rich people are boring about it. I would trust vlad with nothing except to not be a boring rich asshole who wears...fucking khaki or some shit. man knows his Presentation Skills. and that 'V' chair in his mayoral office. is that fucking embroidered?

-maddie get your MAN PLEEEEASSSE. IM SO EMBARRASSED FOR HER. the way jack stays simping for this man. in FRONT OF HIS WIFE!!!! ...my god its like a love triangle. jack clearly loves vlad, who loves maddie, who loves jack. jack fenton is at the very least bi, right................. this is an OBSESSION . 'THE V MAN COMETH'???? i...my god. (also, on a serious note, to have a friend THIS SUPPORTIVE...and still be SUCH A DICK TO HIM (TRYING TO KILL HIM AND STEAL HIS WIFE??) NOT COOL VLAD. JACK IS YOUR 1 AND /ONLY/ HYPE MAN. if someone loved and supported me THIS HARD...LIKE. CMON DUDE.

-STOMP the fucking GAS, JACK

-this would make a great shirt design, looks like a metal band design! we love The Maelstrom

-oh, so vlad did in fact get a mansion in amity park. and its purple! good color choice! not as flashy as a CASTLE or MURDER CABIN, but still pretty eccentric, which I appreciate.

-...vlad knows the difference between picasso and da vinci? in the ep last post where we were watching him fail at conquering every historical time ever he didnt seem to know history well enough to like. be effective...was vlad taking art history at college?? (was he an art MAJOR??? we never DID KNOW WHAT HE WENT TO SCHOOL FOR. I kinda assumed business because in the masters of time ep he was still rich without ghost powers so he had to have..known something about business or something, right...but also, art and or theater FITS HIS PERSONALITY. possibly also something science-y, I guess, but I always felt like he got roped into that, esp how pessimistic he was about the ghost portal in the flashbacks to college, like, i felt like he was just there for maddie and was uninterested/un-invested at the time...)

-THIS GHOST JUST ELECTROCUTED MADDIE (THE CAT) BITCH!! THATS MY FAVORITE MADDIE!!! vlad going after vortex and being ~shocked~ .....WHEN. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN. THAT YOUR ACTIONS. HAVE CONSEQUENCES!!!

-the way this random man with a camera sees the mayor laying in an alley covered in TRASH AND DECIDES TO TAKE A PICTURE HAHAH

*snap* this ones going in my cringe compilation!

-vlad 'if we're going to defeat vortex, we're going to have to do it together!' *immediately dips after dropping danny off in front of vortex* JKASDFHKJHJKN

-DANNY CAN DUPLICATE!!! ...he couldnt even attack with it, but he DID IT!!! INTO (4) OF HIMSELF!!! SO PROUD!!!!!!!!!!

-'THE ROLLER COASTER EMOTIONS OF A TEENAGER THREATEN MY PLANS!' ...0 self awareness of his own dramatic moodiness. incredible, how dumb this man is. its very close to circling around to endearing, if he was less of an asshole. at least its very very funny to see danny shooting him with tiny lightning bolts anytime he's even slightly irritated! vlad you should be nice to danny anyway. this is what you GET

-...making sandwiches and ice cream and playing video games with your nephew is a totally normal thing. WHY is vlad acting like this is the end of the world. if you were a GOOD UNCLE YOU WOULD ALREADY BE DOING THESE THINGS!!! bitch I make my nephew food all the time and dont forget what he does and doesnt like. if u didnt know danny didnt want tomatoes, thats on u. if u, a grown adult, are gonna piss of the 14 yr old by not letting him win, u deserve to have to pay for the arcade machines he ruins because he now has uncontrollable storm powers because YOU THREW HIM INTO A FIGHT WITH THE STORM GHOST. fuck u vlad. paypal me $400,000 while ur at it tho. (also, gamer vlad confirmed)

-VLAD CAN COOK THOUGH???! I assumed he had...people working for him that did that. I mean. billionaires usually dont do that. then again, we've only seen those vultures working for him (and I guess the dairy king was AT his old mansion, but it was never really clarified if he worked there...I think he probably just Hung Out and they Enjoyed Cheeses Together. thats what I think, I dont think a KING would be working for anyone and also the dairy king was nice <3) but then again he would be a private person and we cant have anyone accidentally finding Ghostly Things, so...still, that's hilarious. pour one out for that really cute banana split that got ruined 2 seconds later

-vlad just fucking picking danny up and THROWING HIM AT VORTEX TWICE WITHIN LIKE A MINUTE. JUST ABSOLUTELY LAUNCHING HIM. BITCH THATS MY SON BE CAREFUL!!! HES GOT ORGANS AND THINGS!!!!

-danny seeing those animal commercials and feeling sad is the biggest 2000s throwback so far. i legitimately had to change the channel or walk out of the room when those came on bc id CRY AND BE SAD ABOUT THEM FOR DAYS AFTER. fuck those commercials and fuck that IN THE ARMMMS OF AN ANGELLLL song 😭

-'vlads ego almost got the town destroyed!' yes danny thats the entire episode. the entire series anytime vlad shows up honestly. this episode was just him being really embarrassing the entire time, and, me laughing about it. 10/10 would laugh at him again

-NEXT EP WE HAVE A SHAPESHIFTING GHOST?? I've said it before but shapeshifting is the power I would want when asked those 'what superpower do you want' questions...its the Best power! this guy looks like a homestuck character. ive never read homestuck but thats the vibe

-I love every time we see tuckers family, they are by far the most functional family. and dash has a lil chihuahua!!! named pookie!!! i am crying (I've had 3 chihuahuas, so I am very biased, but...) AND HE WATCHES THE ROMANCE CHANNEL WITH POOKIE. POOKIE I WILL DIE FOR YOU YOU SWEET LITTLE BABY.

-danny can lift a bus! I shouldn't be surprised, but i am proud of my son. hes got lil kid fans. i am going to cry about this

-JAZZ KEEPS A SCRAPBOOK WITH DANNY'S LIL HEROICS AND NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS!!! we've actually seen it on her floor before, but I didnt realize it was a scrapbook!! thats sooo cute.

-...and danny has to stand there listening to his parents saying danny phantom sucks and is a 'filthy ghost' and calling him egotistical...i am once again stealing their kids!

-THIS GHOST RIPPING JAZZ'S SCRAPBOOK!!! ILL KILL YOU. SHE WORKED HARD ON THAT!!! BITCH

-yes, maddie, the one with red eyes is For Sure Actually Your Son. ignore the, red eyes... (CLEARLY she hasnt watched the other 2 eps where danny has been evil, she doesnt know red eyes= evil!!!)

-'billy fenton'.......................

-danny being stuck as phantom in his own house, no way out is a fucking NIGHTMARE. his parents pointing giant weapons against him and SHOOTING AT HIM. THIS IS A HORROR MOVIE.

-NINE INCH NAILS POSTER.

-this is the most screenshot of all time

-amorpho turning into mr. lancer because hes 'someone no one will want to be around' BUT HES WRONG, I WOULD BEFRIEND AND HANG OUT WITH MR LANCER SO FAST.

-tucker dressing as danny, now I have the full Tucker set of him being sam and also being danny. also saying 'the ghost...uh...RIPPED MY FACE OFF.' and then running. SMOOTH. NOT AT ALL CONCERNING TO ANY PARENTS.

-sam accepts the toast from jack. and then 2 seconds later is like 'why am i eating this.' THIS SHOWS HUMOR IS SO UNEXPECTED SOMETIMES ITS REALLY GOOD. and then the scene after, mr lancer running into his ghost doppelganger and being like 'YOURE GORGOUS' THEN FAINTING. I AM CRYING. AND DASH FAINTING TOO.

-sam disguising herself as danny again to help tucker run from the fentons. but leaving him shirtless in the streets. incredible. 'plEASE DOnt NOTice MY FACELessNESS I MUST LIVE IN EXILE' this episode is destroying me the humor in this show is exactly my brand of corny and cheesy

-the impromtu story made up by danny and amorpho to explain stuff to the fentons. my god they are both such bad liars. but amorpho is a good egg. wish danny wouldnt have said he didnt wanna see him in town again!! I want him to be reoccurring. not that thats gonna matter since I'm almost done with the series, but the idea of this being the Only Time We See him is :(

-NEXT EP SAYS STARRING MARK HAMILL??????!!! hello ! mr . joker....mr. star wars.... I feel like I should be. idk. taking off a hat im not wearing in respect. I shouldnt be surprised tho bc hes in a lot of cartoons as a very good voice actor, and dp has already had a lot of talented ones so I've been looking out for ones I might know, but....mr. hamill....

-sam has her own greenhouse, names all the plants, and says thank you to them (in the languages from where the plants are from) whenever she harvests from them. thats SO cute. and her lil gothy lunch box...

-and danny's lil red fuzzy lined jacket!!! ive said it before but every time the characters get alt outfits im like :D

-danny has ice powers now!!! THATS WHAT FROSTBITE MEANT. HE KNEW SOMEHOW WAY BACK THEN

-THIS SHOW NEVER LETS YOU FORGET VLAD IS A BILLIONAIRE, HUH.

-danny's lil 'holy hibiscus!' first off the 50s batman swearing is hilarious. 2nd. my username is from the flower sanchoyo hibiscus, so, shoutout to ME this ep. hi :)

-EURGH UNDERGROWTH MAKING EVERYONE PLANT ZOMBIES. HIVEMIND PLOTS SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF ME. and this dude made the city SO overtaken so quickly like how long was danny asleep?? oh god

-evil fucked up sam! now the whole trio has gone evil at some point! the voice actress did a really, really good job with making her sound like a zombie...

-frostbite's paws are so so so big compared to danny. oh my god. i want to hug the snow dog...

-the far frozen has an advanced medical stuff!!! very cool. very smart snow dogs

-im so glad danny has a friendly ghost snow dad to explain this new power and teach him!!! this is so sweet. DANNY'S GHOST SENSE WAS A PART OF HIS ICE POWER?? OOOH. COOL. we love a training montage!!!

-danny saying if he cant defeat overgrowth, that he'd want to stay with frostbite...oh my god...do you think this is the first real supportive adult figure in his life (I am NOT counting his parents because they threaten him on the daily even if they dont realize it.) I mean mr lancer is a Teacher, but he was also nice but this is different, but this is a GHOST WHO IS WILLING TO HELP HIM with his powers and also will help him when hes injured and is so so nice and comparatively so much more mature than 90% of the adults in this show!!!! god. dad frostbite is my everything.

-the framing and lighting this episode, and all the angles...they went all OUT and it looks really really good. this is my nightmare scenario, tho. like, FUCK zombies and dead city zones and hivemind shit. and using the humans as 'nutrients for the children' i am going to THROW UP.

-MALEFICENT VIBES WITH THE HORNS AND GREEN EYES! this costume kicks so much ass. sam is now mark hamills daughter, I guess.

-danny's ice powers making his eyes blue!!! thats neat. and him going for the roots underground was SO SMART. i will not stand for danny ever thinking hes stupid, hes SO smart.

almost done with the show... :"( thats a sad thought!!!

#sanchoyorambles #dp thoughts #danny phantom

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ayuuria · 4 years

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Inuyasha & Yashahime Translation: Shounen Sunday Super December Edition

Takahashi Rumiko-Sensei’s Question Corner Rumic Question

From the many questions we received from readers via the web, we chose 20 questions for Takahashi Rumiko-sensei to answer!!

Q: The names of the characters in “Inuyasha” are not only original but fit them so well that you can’t think of any other name; peerlessly cool good taste! How did you come up with their names?

Once you name a character, you cannot change it so that’s what I worry about the most. Even if I give them a temporary name for when they make their debut, if it doesn’t stick I will think all the way up to the last minute. While all I can say is “That was the name that fit that character” … a name that is easy to call, draw, and remember. A name that fits the story. For example, in flower language, Kikyou means “Unchanging love” or how Kagome is like a children’s song and cute. I feel like Sesshomaru originally had a different name, but I forgot. On the other hand, I remember the outfit design solidified when I decided on the name.

Q: There are a lot of demons that appear in “Inuyasha” but who was the hardest and easiest to draw?

Magatsuhi was the hardest to draw. He didn’t have a solid form afterall. Also I drew them as I pleased so I don’t remember really struggling.

Q: Is Buyo a male or a female?

When serialization first started, I thought they were a male at first but as I continued to draw, I started to think “This cat might be an old lady”. They might be a female. Well Buyo is Buyo so I think it’s fine if everyone decides for themselves whether Buyo is a male or a female.

Q: I want to know how Sesshomaru and Jaken first met. Was Jaken an old man from the time they first met?

I remember their meeting being drawn in an original episode in the “Inuyasha” anime. I can’t remember which episode number though. According to that, Jaken was a demon leader who lost to Sesshomaru in battle and thus decided to follow him, I think that was the scenario. And I think he was an old man as well.

Q: If Kikyo had lived on, would she and Kagome have been good friends

As long as Inuyasha is around, I think it would be really hard for them to be friends like nothing happened… I imagine they would have this strange tension between them as they accepted the other while feeling uneasy. I don’t think Inuyasha could mentally handle that either.

Q: I like small creatures that appear in the Rumic World like Kilala and Shippou so could you tell us what you focus on when drawing these small creatures?

I make sure that they’re fundamentally cute in appearance. Also because of how small they are, they ride on a main character’s shoulder. Anyhow, I make sure they can share the spotlight.

Q: I think Tessaiga is a good sword that is considerate of the main character such as when it gives Inuyasha a warning so as not to hurt him but Inuyasha treats it so recklessly in comparison. (Though he acts like that fully trusting Tessaiga) If Tessaiga could talk, what do you think it would say to Inuyasha? I have loved “Inuyasha” since I was in elementary school and I’ve viewed the manga and anime but looking back, I feel Tessaiga was gallant in responding to Inuyasha’s recklessness… I was curious about this so I decided to ask.

Tessaiga is a sword forged from his (Inuyasha) father’s fang so while being Inuyasha’s “friend”, I would guess that it might be an existence of higher status. If it could talk, it would probably say “Hurry up and catch up to me”

Q: Thank for the Anime Support Project. “What a time to be alive to be able to send a question to Takahashi Rumiko-sensei” Is what I think (laughs). I’ve loved “Inuyasha” since I was a child and it’s my life’s “bible”. I admired Kagome and lived thinking that I want to be a kind, strong woman like her. Now here is my question: There was a scene where Sesshomaru said “I don’t eat human food” but for a demon that doesn’t attack humans, what does he eat to sustain his life? I mean Inuyasha and Shippou ate with Kagome and the others so do demons and humans eat the same thing? Was Sesshomaru by chance bluffing with that line? Lastly, I look forward to the serialization of “Hanyou no Yashahime” and “MAO”! Thank you for all the wonderful works.

Thank you for your support. Sesshomaru’s meals, I can’t imagine it after all. There’s a possibility he absorbs mists of “essence” or “energy” of the demons he’s defeated. Also fruits are another possibility.

Q: Within “Inuyasha”, is there a story that was most fun for you to draw? Also I would love for sensei to tell us your best (favorite) episode!

I have a lot of favorite episodes so it’s hard to decide. Black haired Inuyasha on the Night of the New Moon was refreshing and fun, and the stories of Inuyasha going to the Modern Era and loosening up as he took a break from fighting had me in many laughing fits. Also drawing the story for the Band of Seven made me excited. And, while fun may not be the right word, I put a lot of effort into Kagura’s death and Kikyou’s last moments with the idea that I wanted to give them a proper send off. The process of Kagome and Inuyasha and Miroku and Sango’s relationship gradually changing was also fun. Ultimately if I had to pick one, it’s probably the final episode. I finished drawing it feeling “I finally made it” and it was satisfying.

Q: I love the Band of Seven in “Inuyasha”! Did Bankotsu, who is the strongest member of the Band of Seven, scout the others? Bankotsu and Jakotsu seem close so are they the first members? I’ve always wondered this. I look forward to appealing enemies appearing in Yashahime.

I think all the other members of the Band of Seven most likely had enough strength to make it on their own. For all those people to come together would require a very strong leader at its core which is basically what Bankotsu was. Also, being together made jobs easier or they felt there may have been a merit. I feel like Bankotsu and Jakotsu being the founding members does indeed fit really nicely.

Q: I really like Monk Miroku and Sango in “Inuyasha” and I continue to support them even now. My question is in the end, how many children did these two, who said “Would you be willing to bear 10, 20 children?” when they purposed, have? If you have back stories and such for the children, I would love to hear them.

I only remember the twins and the newborn baby boy that appeared in the last chapter of “Inuyasha” making an appearance in Yashahime. In my mind, I didn’t think of anything beyond that but they are still a young married couple so I think there’s unlimited possibilities. I am happy that you like these two even now. Thank you very much.

Q: I have a question regarding the different use for “Scent” and “Odor”. The expressions for when Sesshomaru smelled something, for Rin it was constantly “scent” and for everything else it was “odor”. When they first met too, the expression was “A human’s scent”. Just as Inuyasha called Kagome’s smell a “scent”, is it because it is a “smell” that they like?

I had an image of Inuyasha and Sesshomaru differentiating between friend or foe with “smell”. Of course “scent” is friend while “odor” is enemy. In addition, keeping in mind of the image that comes to readers minds when they see these words, I fundamentally had “scent” used for female characters. I wanted readers to get a sense of purity and cuteness from it.

Q: If there’s an episode or scene in “Inuyasha” that ended up turning out differently than what was originally thought up prior to serialization, could you please tell us?

First, I only started the story with the idea of half-demon Inuyasha, getting back stabbed by Kikyou and getting sealed away, and having a sword that was his father’s memento. Everything else, I created while thinking on the week of. Thus, Naraku came after, as well as I thought of Shippou, Miroku, and Sango when they debuted. I had thought of Sesshomaru possibly dying after protecting a human but it seemed like such a waste and I became unable to kill him. The direction of the story was decided when the antagonist, Naraku, was born. I’m an adlib (improv) type person so I won’t be surprised by what I draw if I decide things too far ahead. It’s fun to imagine every week “What will they do, what will happen”.

Q: “Inuyasha” is my bible on life! When talk of Yashahime happened, what was your first thought?

In my mind “Inuyasha” was complete so when they spoke to me about this, I thought “You’re going to do this?”. However Sumizawa-san, who handled the scenario for the “Inuyasha” anime, is a person who, in addition to being adept and talented, does not make mistakes so I felt that I could leave it to him.

Q: In the final chapter of the original work, Sesshomaru was gifting Rin a kimono but how did he go about obtaining it? I’m really curious as to if Sesshomaru delivered something Jaken prepared or if he went and bought it himself?

I thought about this over and over after I received this question. I think after all, he would order Jaken to go buy it and to continue buying until he bought a kimono that fit his image. On top of that, he probably doesn’t tell him (Jaken) a precise image to begin with.

Q: In “Hanyou no Yashahime” we saw Grandma Kaede. Seeing her surprised me… she hasn’t changed from the time of “Inuyasha”! Is Grandma Kaede by chance a demon?

She’s a human. However she still has the role of advising the young folks and having them listen to stories from the past so maybe she doesn’t age because it’s something worth doing.

Q: In “Hanyou no Yashahime”, Inuyasha and Kagome’s child, Moroha, appears. Inuyasha is a half demon, Kagome is a human, and Moroha is cross between a human and a half-demon. Do the three of them age differently in the Feudal Era?

In the span of the story, they seem to age the same. I’m sure the results will gradually begin to show after a few decades.

Q: In “Hanyou no Yashahime” Moroha wears a red ribbon; is this ribbon something with Inuyasha’s ears in mind? Also why is it that Inuyasha, who is a half-demon, has dog ears but Towa and Setsuna, who are also half-demons, do not? I can under Moroha since she’s a quarter (demon)… is there a basis for the dog ears? Please tell us!

Just as you guessed, Moroha’s ribbon was a projection of Inuyasha’s image. In regards to the dogs ears for Towa and Setsuna, Sesshomaru takes a human form and reversely, Inuyasha was something like half beast. The half demons that appear in Inuyasha have all sorts of appearances so understand that it depends on the individual.

Q: Ever since I watched the anime, “Inuyasha”, when I was 5 years old, it has been my absolute favorite work. When I was young, whenever I looked at the sacred tree at the shrine, I always imagined “Was Inuyasha sealed to this tree?...” It’s been 12 years since the original work was concluded. 10 years since the anime “Final Act”. I’m so excited for “Hanyou no Yashahime” beginning this fall! What was the most important thing when you designed the half-demon princess, Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha?

Scenario writer Sumizawa-san asked of me the following images: Towa as a “White Sesshomaru” and Setsuna as a “Black Sesshomaru”. While they’re twins, they grew up in two completely different eras so I designed them as two separate individuals. In addition, while Towa wears a boy’s uniform, I thought it would be good if she had a feminine streak to her. Moroha strongly resembles Inuyasha and Kagome. She’s a cheerful character so I didn’t have any second thoughts when I drew her into what she is now.

Q: Is there anything in “Hanyou no Yashahime” that you would like readers to pay attention to?

Sunrise’s beautiful pictures and animations as well as the story is also entertaining. The previous generation will periodically make an appearance and I think Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha are each charming. I think it’s a work that both first time people and people who watched “Inuyasha” can enjoy. Also Wada Kaoru-san continues from “Inuyasha” as being in charge of music. I’m excited for this as well.

We received a comment, autograph, and illustration for all the readers from Takahashi Rumiko-sensei!

#Hanyou no Yashahime #Yashahime #yashahime: princess half-demon #translation #Inuyasha

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marriael · 4 years

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Be my Latibule? (Changbin x Reader)

@skzrequests

Request: My pace 24 w changbin? uwu im a sucker for the idea of tattooist bin lmao I so vibed with this request, I love thinking about tattoist bin

Word count: 3717

a/n: part of the reason this took so long is I had to restart it twice :(

You walk into work at Insomnia Coffee Shop and your co-worker, Sohee, greets you.

“Anyone fun yet?” You ask. She's usually in when the store opens and often gets the most interesting customers.

“Not today. But yesterday a cute guy came in and ordered 3 americanos. Turns out it was for him and 2 friends. I tried to give them for free cause he looked half dead but he wouldn't let me. Who even does that?“

While she was talking you had slipped on the ugly orange apron and scowl when you noticed someone double knotted and didn't untie the strings.

You shake your head, “probably a college student pulling an all-nighter. What college student turns down free anything? Ugh, I wish some cute barista offered me free coffee, just, ever.”

Sohee turns and passes the drink over the counter. “For Jeno!”

A cute guy comes up to grab and winks at her before he turns to the door. Your jaw drops a little and you slap her shoulder.

“Is he a regular?” You ask.

“Nope. Said he got a recommendation from a friend and went out of his way to come. Weird day to do it though.”

You hum as the next customer comes in and you get thoroughly distracted. It isn’t until he comes up to the counter and speaks that you stop staring blankly.

“1 latte, 1 americano,” his voice is low and rough and he’s a little bit intimidating honestly. He’s got a small bit of a tattoo poking out one of the sleeves and you try and look at it before you have to turn around.

“Is that a tattoo?” You ask him when you turn around.

He rolls the short sleeve up to his shoulder to expose the full tattoo and you stare at the simple beauty of the moon and stars.

“Woah, that’s cool!” Sohee must’ve seen him just in her peripheral… or she was staring like you. You nod emphatically in agreement.

He blushes a little and says “thanks. Couldn’t reach this part of my arm or else I would’ve done it myself, but I still drew it.”

“Do you work at a tattoo parlour then?”

“Yeah, I do a lot of the designs for our place,”

You gasp, “can I come look at them? Please?” You pout trying to convince him to accept your strange request. You just felt something pulling you towards these drawings and the man who made them.

He looks at you for a moment then says, “yeah, let me give you the address. When you come in just ask for Changbin.”

He pulls out a random business card, not his unfortunately, and writes down the address. He slides it over and covers his smile with a sip.

You turn back to the coffee machines as he walks out the door but Mina stops you.

“Changbin huh? He was pretty cute,” she smirks.

“Hush your mouth and get back to work, brat.”

“Nuh-uh! I get to leave now but if, no no not if when, you meet him we're talking about this later.”

The next day was Tuesday and, thankfully, it was mostly empty of things for you. So you pull out the piece of paper Changbin gave you and looked up the address.

It was just a couple blocks down from the coffee shop and you head out. The building is small and squished right between a bakery and a florist, basically some cheesy romance just waiting to happen.

You walked in and looked around. There were corkboards on either sidewall and they were filled with drawings pinned to them. The bottoms of them fluttered a little at the draft you brought with you.

When you looked at him the man behind the counter raised an eyebrow at you. Ah, so it was very obvious you wouldn't be in here often.

You let out a little nervous laugh, “hi, Changbin told me to come see him here?”

The man raised both eyebrows at that. You fiddled as he looked you over again then laughed a little. “Changbin!” He suddenly yelled.

From one of the closed side rooms comes a muffled voice “go away Chan, I’m busy!”

The man at the desk, Chan, turns back to you “sorry, he’s always like this. He’s probably just sketching a custom.”

“Oh, I can come back later if he’s busy.”

Chan doesn’t answer you and instead yells at Changbin again “I know you’re not actually busy. Your partner is here to see you!”

“Hey!” You protest but Chan just grins at you as you hear the door open.

“Chan what the hell are you-” Changbin cuts himself off and gently smiles when he sees you “hey, didn’t think you were actually gonna come.”

You smile back at him. He looks much softer when he’s smiling and you were briefly caught off guard.

“Tell me again about how you’re not dating or at least interested, “ Chan’s eyes flick between the shy but wide smiles on yours and Changbin’s faces.

Changbin rolls his eyes but inclines his head towards the door he was behind and you follow behind him. He closes the door most of the way behind you and then moves to sit at the desk in the far corner. There are more drawings in here and you assume all of them are his. It’s a wide variety of subjects, from small sketches of animals and plants to large and detailed fantasy creatures.

“Sorry about Chan, he’s always delighted in teasing anyone who’s younger than him,” Changbin shakes his head, probably at Chan even though he can’t see or hear in the room.

“Have you two known each other a long time then?” You ask and tilt your head a little.

“Ah, yeah,” Changbin looks at you again, “most of us met in high school and a couple joined right at the start of college. College was really when our whole group started getting close, too.”

“Sounds nice,” you were paying attention to him, promise, but with such wonderful drawings surrounding you, you really couldn’t help it if your attention drifted a bit.

Changbin notices and raises an eyebrow slightly, “interested in getting one?”

“What? Oh, no no, not right now at least. They’re just… really, really good.”

Changbin immediately looks down and smiles, and you could swear he was blushing a bit but when he looks back up it's gone.

“There’s a couple hidden ones in here that aren’t mine. Think you can spot ‘em?” He challenges.

You immediately head up to one of the boards and stand about 5 centimetres away. You push a couple of them up and out of the way, making sure to be careful. There really is all sorts of stuff, Changbin must be pretty busy. A rushing river done with such detail you can almost see it moving. Swirls that when you look just right suddenly snap into focus to make an abstract, soaring bird. Nature moulded with a person or item in such a seamless way that there is not a difference between them, they are simply one continuous sight.

You’re looking for hidden drawings, not ogling at Changbin’s skills. Right. When you move one more there is a small piece of paper. There is… something on it. Either Changbin drew this when he was about 5 years old or it was someone else.

“Hey, I found one. I don’t even know what this is though, it looks like a squiggle.”

Changbin laughs, “hold on.”

He comes and looks right over your shoulder. You can feel his hot breath on your ear and feel his chest move when he laughs at the drawing again. You quickly reign in the slight disappointment when he moves away.

“Yeah, that’s the thing Chan keeps trying to make our mascot. Felix and I won’t let him so until one of us breaks it’s two against one,” he shrugs and it doesn’t look like he feels bad at all.

“Do all your friends have a drawing stashed in here somewhere?”

“Well, I’ve seen at least 16 drawings put in here so yes they all have one. Some of them and Felix, Jisung’s special twin, has hidden at least 4. There’s probably more that he did when I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Ugh, how many friends do you even have. If it’s more than, like, 6 I might be genuinely angry.”

Changbin practically cackles, “well then get ready to be absolutely furious. There’s 9 of us, including myself and everyone I’ve already mentioned.”

“That’s not even fair! How have you all been friends for so long without someone murdering someone else.”

“Oh, believe me. Seungmin’s wanted to. Unfortunately, his best friends are some of our greatest problem children. Though sometimes I'm pretty sure he'll murder them first.”

“Any other possible murderers I should worry about seeing?” You flip a couple more pictures up, still passively looking for any other weird drawings.

“Hm, Minho's murderous intentions are usually directed at Jisung. He'd do it for his cats too, though. He definitely fits in well.”

“Were there concerns about him not fitting in?”

“Yeah 'cause, he was the last one to join us, but he’s just as chaotic if not more. For Chan’s graduation night he insisted on using some mini firework things he found. Nearly lit himself and Jisung on fire with the very first one.”

Something clicks in your brain. You’ve heard this story before, from one of your random classmates. He was… interesting, to put it politely.

“Are you talking about Lee Minho? The smug bastard who tried to get everyone to call him Lee Know for like 5 months? And Han Jisung, my co-worker kind of, that I’m pretty sure hates me for some reason?”

“Wait, you know them? And why do you think Jisung hates you?”

“Yeah, Minho was my weird classmate. I’m like 90% sure Jisung hates me because he barely looks at me and gives one-word answers to all of my questions. I don’t really see him other than during shift switches but still!”

“I think Minho actually might have mentioned you before. And Jisung is just like that around people he doesn’t know. Trust me, he actually has the capacity to be the loudest person in the room. By far.”

“Huh, I wonder how many of your friends I actually know.”

"Well, we're hanging out on Thursday. Do you want to come with and meet some more of them?”

You hum thoughtfully, thinking of any possible commitments you had made lately, “I probably can but can I bring Sohee? Just so I know someone there?”

“Do I still not count as someone you know?” He whines and pouts a little for the extra effect.

“Not enough. If you all go off on some inside joke I need someone to be confused with.”

“Actually fair, because it might happen. I’ll let you know when and where we’re going later then.”

You pull out your phone and extend it to him, when he looks at it confused you raise an eyebrow, “unless you plan to send it by bird I recommend putting your number in my phone.”

He makes a surprised noise and keeps his eyes away from you and on your phone. It has not spread to his face but under his dark hair his bright red ears peek out just enough for you to see. Even when handing it back he doesn’t look at you and you smile at his bashfulness.

“See ya soon, Bin. I work again tomorrow.”

Directions are not always your strong suit. You’d like to believe they are and that’s how you end up like this, no map and unsure of what direction you should even look in.

“You look lost,” a voice comes from behind you.

You spin around. A tall puppy-like guy is standing behind you, he looks slightly amused and you’re betting it’s at your expense.

“Yeah, do you know where M.I.A Café is?”

“Oh,” he nods, “yeah I’m going there. Let’s go.”

It’s slightly awkward, walking this distance with someone you don’t know. You search your brain with how to start a conversation with someone.

“Are you… meeting someone at the café?” You ask, slightly awkward.

“Yeah, a couple of my friends.”

“Huh, so am I. Well, actually, it’s someone else’s friends and I’m just kinda tagging along,” you shrug, realizing how awkward this will probably be.

“Good luck with that,” he says as he holds the door for you.

You enter and scan the tables for Changbin’s face. You wave and slip into the chair opposite him. On the edge of the table thankfully, hopefully Sohee can recognize the back of your head. Someone sits next to you and you get a little shock seeing who it is.

He grins at you, “hey stranger.”

The guy you walked all that way with one of Changbin’s friends!

Changbin looks between you confusedly, “you know Seungmin?”

“He helped me get here. I might have gotten a little lost.”

“A little, ok. You had no idea where you were,” Seungmin snarks.

“Maybe so!”

“Well good to know you get along with another one of my friends already,” Changbin interjects.

Someone comes up and sits beside Changbin.

“Hey, I’m Hyunjin,” he greets you simply.

You give him a little wave. You don’t like judging people so fast but he’s a little intimidating.

You hear a little scrape of a chair beside and Sohee pops down at the end of the table.

“Sohee, you made it!”

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” she sticks out her tongue at you.

“I’ve seen you somewhere before,” Hyunjin speaks up and you whip your head towards him.

Sohee looks at him and squints for a moment. They start looking at each other for so long that you think they’re actually just having a staring contest. You think you recognize someone walking outside but when you actually look out the window you have no idea who any of them are. It’s still a nice day out, maybe you can go out somewhere after this.

“Oh! You’re the guy I thought was going to drink 3 americanos the other day!”

“Sohee~” you sing.

“What?” She looks at you, annoyed.

“You forgot an important detail that you told me about him.”

She looks genuinely confused for a moment before catching on and shaking her head, “shut up, nope nope nope.”

“You think he’s cute!” You cackle.

You, Changbin, and Seungmin make fun of Sohee and Hyunjin for a little while. It backfires when Sohee manages to sneakily turn the attention on you, well you and Changbin. Together, you being together.

“Yeah, and you stared at him for so long when he came in!” Sohee says.

“Sohee, kindly shut your mouth,” you reply, smiling the most pained and fake smile ever.

“Ok, please don’t pour your drink on me, I’m afraid. Also we work together so I’m coming for you.”

You just roll your eyes at her, you didn’t actually scare her and you both know that. She just likes to be some sort of annoying sister to you.

Hyunjin clears his throat and when you look at him his eyes are bright. He smiles sneakily and says, “you should hear about the time Changbin actually poured his drink on someone.”

“Hyunjin that was an accident and you know it!” Changbin exclaims, attempting to shoulder check a giggling Hyunjin.

You breeze into Blueprint Tattoos and Chan looks up in surprise.

“Hey there, didn’t know you were coming in today.”

You let out a single, unnatural ‘ha’, “I didn’t know either but uh, here I am.”

“Well, Changbin’s in his usual spot. I don’t think he has anything today.”

“Thanks,” you nod stiffly.

Looking around at the cork boards you can see some of them definitely done in Changbin’s style and a handful more you suspect would be his. You breathe out heavily and slouch a little before straightening and walking towards where Changbin should be, full of false confidence.

“Are you ok?” Chan asks and when you look over his eyebrows are furrowed and his forehead pinched down a little. The concern from someone you barely know is a little unusual but the warmth you get from it is welcoming.

“Yeah, just a little nervous you know?” You force a small laugh but you know it’s not convincing.

“Oh!” Chan exclaims, “well if this is what I think it is then good luck.”

Chan’s face is completely relaxed and you feel a little bit bad for making him worry so much. You’re not entirely sure what he thinks you’re doing but you smile at his kindness as you open Changbin’s door.

He has headphones in and doesn’t hear when you close the door behind you. You stand there for a minute, back against the door, just looking at him. Most people move to what they’re listening to but the only thing moving is his hand and it glides across the page. You have no idea what he’s doing but you just hope he’ll show it to you when he’s done.

You take a big breath in and out before approaching him. Tapping his shoulder gently you hope not to cause him to jerk his arm and ruin a line or anything. He stops completely and pulls his headphones out. He looks a little annoyed but then he looks up to see you and his face eases.

“Hi! I didn’t know you were coming today. Anything specific on the brain or did you just want to hang out with Best Friend Binnie?” He gives you an exaggerated and comical wink.

“Give me a tattoo?” You say, surprisingly calm for how jittery you actually feel.

“Wait, what? Are you sure? Like really sure?”

You roll your eyes like a stereotypical teenager would at their parents, that is to say, so far back it felt like they would disappear into your head, “no, Changbin, I’m not sure. I’ve really only been thinking about it basically since the first time I walked into this room.”

“That was only a week ago,” Changbin deadpans.

“Yeah, and?”

Changbin shakes his head, “I’m not going to give you a tattoo you’ll regret.”

You look around at the drawings. Feeling like that one action gave this decision away as way more spontaneous than it had originally seemed. Yes, you had been thinking about getting one and getting Changbin to do it for you but doing it today specifically was a complete impulse.

“I’m not going to regret it! Bin, please,” you pout at him.

Changbin tilts his head to look at the ceiling as if it will give him some guidance.

“What do you want?”

You clap your hands excitedly and then hesitate again.

“Well, I know I want a flower but… I want you to choose which one. I want it to be a flower with a good meaning behind it.”

Changbin nods and stands there considering your request. You take the time to look around his office again. Staring at all the intricate drawings on the walls you feel a bit dorky choosing to get a simple flower. Your eyes briefly catch on two stylized drawings of the word SpearB. One of them has a cute little ‘Binnie~’ under it and the other has a messy ‘Chanathan’ in English and Korean.

There are a couple of flowers scattered throughout the room so you’re a bit surprised when you hear Changbin ripping a page out of his sketchbook. His back is to you so you can’t see him cutting it down to a size to la and trace on your body. You can hear the gentle snips of scissors as you distract yourself with rows of flowers connected and individual petals with such detail you could believe them being real.

You watch as he gently traces the pattern onto your skin. You don’t recognize the flower right away but it looks delicate and beautiful. You think you catch him glancing up at you a few times but you’re pretty sure the clock is behind you and he’s looking at that.

You zone out almost entirely as he prepares. Well, it’s not exactly zoning out. You’d say it’s appreciation of an attractive man, your friends would say that you’re just checking him out.

Ok, so what if you are? Changbin’s shirt has no sleeves which means his arms are on full display which means that you can’t stop looking at the muscles flexing as he moves. Thankfully you’re conscious enough to look away when he turns back around.

The buzz of the gun wakes you up and Changbin is looking at you.

“All good?” He asks.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

You watch for a moment as he starts going and the ink sinks permanently into your skin. It’s a strange thing to conceptualize, something being on your body forever. You catch a glimpse of Changbin’s concentrated face and you get completely distracted by him. If this is what he looks like everytime he gives a tattoo then you want to observe, even study, him.

His mouth is set in a firm line and eyebrows pinched slight inwards and downwards. His eyes are wide and focused and if you look closely enough you can see every slight movement of his irises following his hand around.

Neither of you say a word and you don’t dare move to try and look at the clock or your phone. Just watching and waiting in silence, but together. A shared silence is different than one had alone.

Silences by yourself can feel wrong sometimes but this kind of silence with Changbin feels so right that you almost never want it to end.

Good things often come quicker than they should and soon the buzzing stops. You can hear phantom buzzing still and suspect you will for quite a while. You lift your arm and look at it, it’s finished now but you’re still not sure what it is and certainly not what it means.

“What is it?” You ask.

“An almond blossom. It, uh, it means promise.”

“Promise, huh?” You grin and look at Changbin's pink-ish face.

You expect him to have some witty comment but instead, he just smiles goofily and breathlessly says, “yeah.”

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years

Text

Motion Sickness Chapter 59

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I rolled up on the Seventh Heaven on a motorcycle with Neo riding behind me with both arms wrapped around my waist. She exhaled through her nose in a slow sigh.

"Good evening Mantle. Good evening SDC. Good evening Mother who lives in the corner of my eye but disappears when I try and look at you. What do you think, Neo? We finally going to get what we deserve?" I asked.

She squeezed my chest tightly.

"I meant about Cinder. Though you and I probably deserve to have other shit happen to us. Don't you think? Just a little?"

I stroked the engine and it went off like a gun while I sat outside the bar and waited for Avalanche. The cobblestone street wasn't crowded with the little motorcycle. I'd seen some bigger models that called out to me but for now this little one was enough for me.

"I mean the shit we've done..." I laughed. I laughed hard. It was funny. It was all so, so funny. Why wasn't I able to laugh at me like this all the time? "The shit we've done we probably deserve some horrible shit to happen to us. Probably something like exactly what happened. They call that karma. Not what will happen to us for what we've done, the shit that is happening to us for what we did."

"You with Roman," I murmured. "I imagine you did some horrible awful shit. I'm not worried about it. I do awful shit too."

She squeezed me tighter. I embraced the feeling. The touch of another was something so simple. It was something so alien to me at the moment but it was all too Cetra. Maybe I was just stopping Neo from getting close to me. Maybe she wanted to be close to me. Maybe I was the only real stopping block.

I wanted to embrace it, even if it was something from a sadist like Neo. She got off on torture and killing people. And hey, I liked it too. I liked my boot on the necks of those who would stand against me. I liked killing Tyrian. I savored in the memory of his blood pouring out onto the street. I wasn't about pain but I was about killing. I was this sort of monster that reveled in death.

Would Ruby love me now? If she could see the things I'd become would she pull at my hair and kiss my chest? Would her heart beat faster for me still? I could distantly remember the pulse between her legs. I remembered the taste of her sweat, it was sweet like cinnamon. I remembered when she rode me out in an Anima forest and I recalled pressing her against the tile of a shower. Breathless moans leaving her little frame. The skin of her neck against my teeth. Her full lips against mine, so tender against my own harshness. The memory of it was enough to make me shift in the motorcycle seat with Neo clinging to me.

I wasn't sure I had the answer. Or maybe I just didn't want to accept the answer I had. Maybe I didn't like it. Maybe I was just depressing and wallowing in it. Or maybe I had a good point. Maybe at some point somewhere I'd crossed a line.

Bugs crawled around behind my face. I could feel it in my eyes and ears tonight. I picked at the inside of my ear and rubbed an eye, slow and hard.

The soft whisperings of Mother were fit enough to drive me mad. They were loud tonight. Or maybe not. It was hard to tell. It didn't exactly come with a volume setting or a good frame of reference. There was nothing to compare the loudness to. It came and it went. The bugs were like that too.

I was an alien monster to Ruby. I was part Grimm somewhere inside of me. Maybe that was how I'd tracked the Nuckelavee so well. I knew its heart because my own heart beat that same black. My blood and insides were red but so was that of the Grimm. I was inhuman.

Would Weiss still give me that small affectionate smile I remembered gleaming at me in the early Mistrali dawn? A teasing smirk on her blushing face with her hair down around her shoulders.

Would Yang still laugh when I bit back against her?

Could I ever go back? Could I ever be forgiven because I killed my friends? Maybe I really should just kill myself and be done with it. If I turned it on me… if I evened it out… would that make it better? Could I get into heaven if I killed myself?

My friends would want me to go on. It wasn't fair. I just wanted to die.

I pulled my pipe out and took a long draw on it. I had a lot I wanted to relax about. My thoughts were wild and creeping up on me.

I'd never have another calm and patient conversation with Ren. Nor would I ever share a bubbly dialogue with Nora. That was my fault. I may blame Mother but I had been the one to draw my blade against them.

What was Ruby feeling right now as I set off to cause more chaos? Did she still think of me? Did I deserve to have her think of me like that? No. I didn't. And it wasn't because I was born a monster. It was because I embraced it. I tortured, maimed, and killed with impunity.

Ruby would never do something like that. Her heart would go out to each and every person she ever hurt. Meanwhile I was content to smoke and forget 'em.

I exhaled a long batch of smoke out into the cool Mantle night air. I let the earthly odor and feeling settle over me. It was fast. Inhaling drugs worked quick like that. Much faster than anything other than injections. Ghostly hands wrapped over me. The cold suddenly didn't feel so bad and Neo's arms felt nice and warm.

Her hands gripped one another tight, just under my armor where she could be comfortable. "We deserve to die. Me and you. You and I." I told her. "And it'll get us, too. Just you wait and see."

Avalanche came backing out in a little turquoise truck. It backfired a little as it came rolling away from the bar.

I gestured to them with a wave and let them lead the way down the street. It wasn't busy out and I was able tailgate Avalanche pretty closely as we made our way to the mine.

Thoughts crept in on me as I drove under the influence. It was actually pretty easy. I'd fought Tyrian under the influence and that went well enough. My control was fine and as we slipped into traffic I was aware.

I put my pipe in my pocket and out of sight. I didn't need some officer to pull me over because of basically nothing before the operation even started.

We rode up on this massive open pit mine and stopped our vehicles. It had a spiraling depth of road to it for heavy machinery with the walls braced by metallic supports.

"Neo, watch the rides."

She nodded. She leaned her parasol against her shoulder and leaned herself in turn against my new bike.

It was a shallow gold and stripped with platinum. It was easier on the eyes than Yang's bike was. The colors were dull and metallic unlike the bright colors of Bumble Bee. She even named her bike. Maybe I'd name mine too. Maybe one I was a little more attached to than this. I could fucking afford it, I'd bought a whole plane. A nice bike would be nothing. Depending on just how nice it was.

I stepped away and Neo took my hand for a moment and squeezed my fingers. I hesitated for a moment and grabbed her hand back and returned her squeeze.

Then I stepped away for real.

Avalanche swung their way out of their truck. The vehicle heaved as Wenge made his way out of the back of it with his machine gun in hand. Bisque stepped out of the driver's seat, pistol drawn and at the ready. Jasper stepped out of shotgun with an easy grin and a wave at me.

I stared down into the large open pit of the mine with the spiraling road.

"You didn't forget the charges, did you?" I asked.

"Oh, right," Wenge mumbled. He tossed an explosive at my head which I caught.

"Where am I setting this up?" I asked. I began to step down the rings into the large open pit. Blowing the sides of the place would cause a landslide and bury the dust that was ready and waiting for extraction.

"One over there." Bisque pointed. "And another over… there. That should just about do it. Then we blow it remotely."

I laid down a wall of the place on both legs and I walked up to a strut he'd indicated and began to strap the charge into place with duct tape. I set it for remote activation with a push of a button.

"So far this is going very well!" Jasper exclaimed next to me.

A small Schnee Dust Company marked airship spun overhead. It came in low and fast.

"Go set the last charge." I told her. I drew my sword and advanced on two men descending from the plane. I activated my semblance and drew my sword. I flew up to match the height of the plane with a mighty leap. I bladebeamed it.

The beam crashed into the hovering plane and it began to spin out from the tremendous attack. Pieces flew off as it started to spiral into the massive pit. I watched the plane start to level out but it was clearly struggling to remain in the air. I had been hoping to outright destroy it but this was close enough.

I turned back to the two who had descended on guide wires. They were picking themselves off the ground where they fell from the spinning plane.

I stepped up to them and charged my semblance.

"You must be Cloud Strife." The redhead said. He coughed a little but stood firm. He pulled an electro-stick on me as he stood up and caught his breath. The other man just raised his fists with a quiet grunt.

"That's me," I spoke quietly. Speaking quiet is always more threatening than speaking loud. At least in my experience.

Kill the girl. And the boy.

Like that. Exactly like that.

"I'm Rosso. And this is Rude." He gestured with his stick. He brushed dust off of his slacks. They were both wearing full suits and Rude was even wearing a tie. Rosso on the other hand was wearing a pair of goggles up above his eyes and he had an exposed chest under his jacket. He had tattoos next to his eyes, as well.

"We're the Turks. We're going to fuck up six ways to Sunday."

"I'll make this quick." I lowered my sword down at Rosso.

He laughed like I didn't just cut down the plane he was riding in. "Get 'em Rude."

Rude came at me with his fists. I blocked the heavy string of attacks he came at me with using the wide side of my blade. I spaced him out with the giant sword. I swung it around my body and into his gut and knocked him off his feet.

Rosso came at me in an electric blue blur. It was bright blue unlike my deep wafting blue semblance. A speed semblance perhaps. He moved behind me and hit me in the back of the head with his stick. I spun to deal with him but he just blurred away again.

Rude came at me once more. He was enormously strong, but slow. His partner more than made up for his lack of speed, however.

"Cloud's engaged the Turks." Came through a mic in my ear. It was Jasper's voice. "How long until the charges are set?"

My semblance activated. When Rosso came by for another swing I blocked his attack on my sword and reached out and grabbed him by the throat.

"Rude! Help!" I slammed him into the ground through his words.

I was at my most dangerous in a one on one fight. There were certain adaptations I had to make in a two on one fight that made me considerably less formidable. For one I couldn't stand there and non-limit Cross Slash my enemies. It just took too much time while an enemy could come up behind me.

Rude tackled me but I rolled rather than be grabbed by him. I came back up to my feet.

I flew at Rude and brought my sword in a tremendous swing upwards. It caught him in the chest and smashed him into the air. I jumped and swiped my sword down over my head in a brutal strike downwards that slammed him into the ground.

Rosso appeared next to where I landed and hit me in the back with his staff, making me stumble forward. He moved around and hit me in the gut, lightning fast. I grunted and bent over.

He made for another pass but I blocked it with the wide side of Crocea Mors and slashed him to the ground such that he landed on his ass and a blue crackling of aura went over him. He wasn't out just yet but he couldn't keep getting hit by me while I was Limit Broken. He just couldn't afford it, didn't have the aura.

Rude came at me from the other side and I kicked him in the chest and brought my sword down on his head, forcing him to sidestep.

I pulled a lightning crystal from my pocket and crushed it. I swept my hand towards Rosso but Rude reached out and grabbed my arm. I stared at him for a moment in surprise before it blew up in both of our faces.

I kick-jumped my way back to my feet easily and was just in time to block another swing of Rosso's electro-stick. He pushed me back on a pocket of air rather than forcing my feet to slide over the ground. He pushed me all the way back into the side of the pit along the dirt road we fought on.

I flew straight up on the wall and front-flipped over his head, I swung my sword at his back in a non-Limit Break Braver as I flipped over him but he moved out of the way of the helmsplitter with a narrow dodge.

I backflipped in place in his direction and nearly pinned him against the wall with an upward slicing aerial attack. He tried to step in and do some damage with his staff but I followed him with two horizontal slashes that forced him to block the first and jump out of the way of the second.

Rude came up on me in a huge bear hug. He grabbed me from behind and suplexed me. I felt my neck slam against the ground.

I slid back to my feet, already hovering back up. Rude clubbed me once and I thrust Crocea Mors forward and caught him. Then I pulled him into the air with it and then slammed him back into the ground.

"Charges are almost set." Wenge's voice came through my head. "And done. We're good to go."

I backflipped in place and hit Rude with a devastating falling aerial attack that swung horizontally. It forced him to slide back and made his aura flare up in a deep electric yellow.

I chased after him and kicked him in the middle of the chest. Then I kicked him in the side of the leg, making him fall, then I brought my blade around on the side of his head.

Rosso clashed with my blade before I could bring it around on the side of his partner's head. He grunted under the force of my early executed attack.

"Gah! What are you made out of?" Rosso grunted.

"I'm a hunter. A real one." I put my shoulder into the side of the blade and slammed the entire thing into his chest and knocked him to the ground. “You’re both bad jokes. I’d laugh but I don’t find it very funny.”

I was still holding on to my semblance. In a two on one fight like this I needed the speed and strength buffs more than I needed to spend it. Without the movement improvements I'd be unable to keep up with Rosso's speed. So unless I cornered him with it, I'd still need it. It was a difficult balance to play.

So I chased him after I knocked him back and brought my sword down in a massive downwards swing. I gambled and spent my Limit on a Cross Slash. I only caught Rosso in the last two swings of it but it shattered Rosso's aura and slammed him back into the crater wall.

Rude came at me but even in my non-elevated state he was terribly slow. I swept my blade at him which he caught on his knuckles. Then I hit him in the gut with my blade, and after that I kneed him.

I tapped my microphone. "Set off the charges."

"But Cloud…!" Bisque's voice came through.

"Just do it!”

I felt the charges go off and the rockslide begin as the struts collapsed. I hovered above and backflipped three times against the wall of the crater and escaped. I landed neatly beside Avalanche and Neo as the walls came tumbling in.

I looked down and over and saw Rosso and Rude climbing back on guide wires in the still recovering plane. I watched it take off with the two 'Turks' in tow. I felt almost positive that I'd be seeing them again.

"Let's mosey," I told them. I straddled my bike. Neo hopped on and wrapped her arms around me again. She pressed herself tight against me.

I watched and waited for Avalanche to climb back into their truck.

Then I spun off on a cloud of dirt.

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-WG

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wistfulcynic · 4 years

Text

The Bend of the Arc (4/ 4)

SUMMARY: Emma Swan hates Killian Jones at first sight. He's everything she despises in a man: arrogant, provocative, and a known criminal associate of the city’s most notorious gangster. She’s determined to put him behind bars, until a shocking event forces them together and Emma discovers that there’s a lot more to Killian than meets the eye.

THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone reading this story! I’ve been blown away by your amazing and insightful comments, and so touched. You are all thoroughly brilliant and I want to hug you. Contact-free internet hugs for all!

All the love always to @thisonesatellite for her ‘splaining, even the cold kind ❤️

Rating: M (smut and language) Words: 5.8k (of 30k total) Tags: Modern AU, enemies to lovers, bounty hunter!Emma, criminal!Killian, smut, bedsharing

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | On AO3

PART FOUR:

It didn’t take long to prepare for their departure. Neither of them had come with any luggage; Killian simply packed his tuxedo and her dress and shoes into a large plastic bag and tossed it into the back of the Jeep. They had a quick breakfast and cleaned up the kitchen, quickly tidied the rest of the cottage and then were ready to go.

Emma took a last look around as Killian reset the security system, trying to fix the little space in her memory. A heavy ache of sadness sat in her chest knowing that she would never see this place again, and Killian… she had no idea what might happen between them when they got back. What she even wanted to happen.

The drive down to the lake was a silent one. Emma noticed that the path they took down the mountain was straighter than the one that had brought them up it, keeping mostly parallel to the meandering line described by the creek he’d shown her, the one she was to follow if she ever needed to find the lake again.

The motorboat was precisely where they’d left it. Killian turned off the Jeep and tucked the keys beneath the visor, then fetched the jackets and life vests from the back as Emma grabbed the plastic bag with their clothes. She tossed it into the boat before putting on her jacket and vest and stepping aboard, with no need for Killian’s hand this time. Moments later they were underway, rounding the curve of the lake and heading back to the river that would lead them to the larger lake and the boat that had carried them to it, the one Killian claimed belonged to one of his employees.

It too was right where they’d left it. Emma frowned as she removed her vest and jacket, handing them to Killian who boarded the larger boat with them tucked beneath his arm and stowed them in a compartment beneath the seating on the deck.

“Don’t you worry, leaving things like this?” she asked. “A yacht, just sitting there, and the keys left inside the Jeep?”

“Hardly anyone lives out here,” he replied, turning another key to start the boat’s engine. “And those who do keep to themselves. It’s why I chose this place.”

Emma stayed on the deck of the boat as it purred down the skinny lake—which she soon realised was not a lake at all but a long and winding inlet that opened out into the sea. Land masses crowded the horizon, some clearly islands and others possibly part of the mainland split up by more inlets. Killian steered them gradually to their left, maintaining a more or less straight course in that direction until slowly the islands became less plentiful and a city began to resolve in a blue-grey haze before them.

“You’d better get below,” Killian told her. “And stay quiet.”

“What? Why?”

“Remember that passport you don’t have?”

“Oh.”

She went below and curled up again in the bunk where she’d slept the night of their escape, but no sleep claimed her this time. Voices filtered down from above, muffled but recognisable as Killian’s and another that sounded like a woman. Their conversation was short and soon the boat was moving again. Emma waited another twenty minutes before venturing back onto the deck.

“Aye, love, it’s clear,” Killian said with a smile when she poked her head through the small door. “We’re back in American waters.”

“So,” she said, resuming her position on one of the padded benches, “you basically smuggled me into Canada,”

“Basically.”

He seemed disinclined to elaborate, tension creeping visibly into his posture as they drew nearer to the city. Soon Emma began to recognise the skyline and about twenty minutes later they arrived back at the marina.

Killian brought the boat into the mooring they’d taken it from and tossed the lines to a short, round man with a dark beard and an anxious disposition who appeared to be waiting for them.

“Everything all right, Mr Jones?” he asked.

“No problems, Smee,” Killian replied. “Thank you for the loan of her.”

“Anytime, sir.”

The man nodded to Emma as she debarked and gave her a nervous smile. She smiled back, as warmly as she could manage, then followed Killian across the lot to where his car was parked—another thing just as they’d left it, but with one addition. Graham was leaning against the hood with his arms crossed and his badge prominent, watching them approach with a hard expression.

He and Killian shook hands, the kind of handshake men exchange when they’d prefer to exchange fists to the face, and then Graham turned to Emma. His eyes raked over her, taking in every detail, leaving her with the uncomfortable sensation that he could see everything she’d done over the past few days—that she had slept with Killian and how her feelings towards him had changed. It made her angry; it wasn’t Graham’s business who she fucked or how she felt about them, and she returned his appraisal with a cool stare.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

“Fine,” she snapped. “Never better.”

Graham shot Killian another dark look. “Come with me,” he said. “I’ve got a cruiser waiting to take us to the station.”

“I’d prefer to drive myself, mate, if that’s all right,” Killian replied.

“If you must,” said Graham. “But Emma comes with me.”

“I’m going with Killian,” said Emma firmly. “And I’m stopping by my place first, to get a change of clothes.

Graham’s eyes flitted from her to Killian and back again, his jaw clenching, and she wondered if he would pull rank. Finally he gave a short nod. “Fine. Be at the station in an hour.”

He turned on his heel and headed for his cruiser, squealing out of the parking lot a minute later in a way that felt deliberate. Killian didn’t look at her as he got into his car and so she simply got in herself, hugging the plastic bag with their clothes tightly to her chest.

Killian knew where she lived. Of course he did, thought Emma, just as she knew where he lived. He went straight to her apartment, parking in her usual space and wordlessly following her inside, where she retrieved her dress and shoes from the plastic bag and held it out to him.

“Sit wherever,” she said. “I’ll just change quickly and be right back.”

He nodded, taking the bag, and she retreated to her bedroom where she shed his clothes and replaced them with her own. As glad as she was to put on actual underwear and clothes that fit—and she was very, very glad for it—the ache in her chest throbbed again as she folded Killian’s jeans and t-shirt and rolled up his socks. She ran a brush through her hair and pulled it into a ponytail, and when she opened her closet to fetch her jacket she froze.

Killian’s jacket was there beside it, the one he’d put around her shoulders the first night they met. The one she’d intentionally kept to fuel her anger and keep her determination to see justice done to him fresh and hot, and now—

Now it made her want to cry.

Slowly she removed it from the hanger and held it to her cheek. It smelled like him, that warm, spicy scent that was so familiar now. Emma buried her face in it, breathing deeply and fighting back her tears. Then she placed it gently atop the pile of his clothes and put on her red leather.

When she returned to her living room Killian was still standing where she’d left him, staring out the window with an expression she couldn’t read. He smiled when he saw her, a smile that started bright and quickly dimmed, one that seemed involuntary.

“Well,” he said, waving his hand at her outfit. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

“Much,” she replied, smiling back. “Um, here’s your clothes.”

“Thanks.” He put them in the bag with his tuxedo.

“And, uh, I should probably give this back too.” She held out his jacket.

“Ah.” Killian stared at it, emotion flaring in his eyes but quickly quenched. “Er, yes, thanks.” He took the jacket, not looking at her.

“Killian—”

“We should probably get going. I wouldn’t want to face Graham’s wrath if we’re late.”

“Yeah. But can we, um… can we just...”

“What?”

Talk, she wanted to say. Fix this, whatever this was that had been so fragile last night and felt shattered now. But she knew there wasn’t time and Killian’s face was shuttered again, carefully concealing all traces of the man she already missed.

She put her hand on his arm and he caught his breath. “Emma,” he whispered, “I—”

She stepped closer and he swayed towards her, reaching up to stroke her cheek with trembling fingers that curled around the back of her head as she tilted it up.

“I—” he tried again, then his lips were on hers, his arms closing tight around her. Emma whimpered and stood on her toes, pressing as close to him as she could get, her own arms twined around his neck and clinging like she never wanted to let go.

She didn’t, but she couldn’t hold on to him, not when he was still keeping things from her. Not when she could never trust him. Emma had been down that road before and she knew where it led—jail time and a broken heart, and a son she would never know.

Killian kissed her with a desperation that echoed in her soul, fingers tangled in her hair and clutching at her waist, mouth hot and demanding and achingly gentle, sweet and bitter, an elegy, an apology and a goodbye.

As their lips parted he let his forehead rest on hers, his eyes closed. “We should go,” he said.

Emma squeezed her own eyes shut, breathing him in. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m ready.”

Graham was waiting for them at the station along with what seemed like half his precinct, sweeping Emma away while Killian was corralled by the others and leading her to an interview room like she wasn’t there all the time and didn’t know the way as well as he did.

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked her. “Coffee, or—”

“I know what the coffee’s like in this place so I’ll pass, thanks.”

Graham’s lip twitched. “Fair.”

A knock sounded at the door and he opened it to admit his partner, a dark-haired man with a perpetually smug expression. “Emma, you remember August Booth?” he asked, cringing slightly when Emma and August turned to him with identical exasperated eye rolls.

“Of course I remember August, he still owes me fifty bucks from the last poker night,” said Emma. “I know this case is a big deal, but can you please remember I’m your friend and not some stranger who needs to be handled with kid gloves?”

“My friend,” Graham repeated. “Right.”

August sat across from her and laid a clipboard and a small tape recorder on the table. “Emma, I need you to make an official statement of what you witnessed at Robert Gold’s mansion, do you consent?” he asked.

Emma nodded.

“And you consent to have your statement recorded?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Sign here.”

She did, but before August could turn the recorder on, Graham spoke from the doorway. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Emma? You’ve had a stressful past few days, we can do it tomorrow—”

“No,” said Emma firmly, wishing Killian were here and also wishing she didn’t wish it. “I want this over with and I want Gold to go down.” She nodded to August. “Let’s get started.”

It took more than an hour, with Emma telling and retelling her story and August asking questions, pressing her for more details, for everything she could remember. When it was over she was exhausted and emotionally raw, with a pounding head and a fierce desire for a hot bath and a soft bed, and Killian. Maybe he would agree to stay with her tonight, she thought, rubbing her temples. Just for tonight. Just one more night.

She returned to the bullpen to find Graham waiting for her.

“Everything go okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so. You’ll have to ask August for the details because my brain is mush, but… yeah.”

Graham gave her a sort of half-hug, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck to massage it. “You did well.”

“I’m just glad it’s done.”

“Gold’s been remanded without bail,” he informed her. “You should be safe enough to go home, though I’m placing a couple uniforms outside your door just in case. Is your car here?”

“No.”

“I’ll get them to drive you then, too.”

Emma shook her head and pulled away. “That’s okay, Killian can—”

“Killian’s gone,” Graham snapped, his face going dark.

“What?” Her heart twisted, bent and folded itself into a tight knot of agony.

“He left half an hour ago. Said to tell you goodbye, and he’s sorry.” Graham’s eyes flashed. “What does he have to be sorry for, Emma?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

He snorted.

“Nothing like what you’re thinking,” she snapped. Anger surged within her, hot and cleansing, burning away the pain.

“So you didn’t—” He made a vague gesture with his hand, scowl deepening, and oh, Emma relished this anger.

“Didn’t what?” she asked with a tight, mocking smile. “Fuck him?” Graham winced, and her smile became a sneer. “Oh yeah, I definitely did that. And you know what? I’d do it again.”

He clenched his fists, nostrils flaring. “So much for your high-and-mighty ideals about trusting criminals,” he spat.

“I never said I trusted him.” Emma intended the words to sting but her voice rose on a wobble and she spun away, pushing and elbowing her way through the crowded bullpen towards the exit before Graham could see her tears.

She was nearly there when his hand closed around her elbow. “Emma,” he said, softly and without rancour. “I’ll drive you home.”

Graham pulled up in front of Emma’s apartment and turned off the engine. They sat in silence for a moment, she desperately clinging to the remnants of her anger and he staring at his hands.

“Emma—” he began.

“Why do you hate Killian?” The last of the anger slipped away as she spoke his name, leaving the hurt stronger in its absence, leaving her wanting only to curl into a ball and weep forever.

Graham sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t hate him. Once I loved him like a brother.” He paused, his throat working. “Part of me still does.”

“But then why—”

“Because I don’t want to see you become just another woman he hurts!” Graham cried, twisting in his seat to face her. “Did he tell you about the others?”

“He told me he’d hurt people—”

“Did he tell you he had an affair with Gold’s first wife?”

“No, but—”

“Gold found out and she turned up dead. Stab wound to the heart.”

Emma’s own heart twisted even tighter. “That’s on Gold, not Killian,” she whispered.

"Maybe. But when Gold’s current wife got shot, that was Killian.”

“He shot her?” Emma exclaimed. “I thought she was—”

“She survived,” Graham said harshly. “But Killian and Gold have a lot of ugly history and he had no right to bring you into that! I should never have allowed it.”

“Graham—”

“And then the way you were looking at him earlier—he’s not worth it, Emma! Whatever you think you feel for him, he’s not worth it.” Graham swallowed hard and turned back to face the steering wheel. “I’m not saying this out of jealousy.” His voice was low and rough. “I know that’s what you’re thinking, and I won’t deny that I wish there could be something between us. But I'd be happy just to see you happy, and Killian—all he’ll do is hurt you.”

“He won’t,” she replied. Not intentionally, anyway. “He wouldn’t.”

Graham slammed his fists on the steering wheel. “For fuck’s sake!” he cried. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?”

“Every one.” Emma was surprised by how calm she felt, though the ache grew with every beat of her heart and tears hovered at the back of her throat. “I know how hard it was for Killian to lose your friendship, but it must have been even harder for you. Seeing what he became, knowing there was nothing you could do to stop it.”

“I—” He nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. It was.”

“He hasn’t changed as much as you think. He’s still a good man at his core, despite everything."

“Emma—”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to—” her voice broke “—to see him again. I know I can’t trust him.” She put her hand on Graham’s and squeezed gently, leaning forward to catch his eye. “But there is one thing I can tell you with absolute certainty, and that is that Killian Jones would never, ever hurt me.”

Graham stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. “I hope you’re right,” he muttered.

Gold pled guilty to Felix’s murder, along with a dozen other charges of money laundering, fraud, and larceny. His plea came as a surprise to the district attorney, who had offered him no deal. The case against him was solid and she was hoping to make a landmark of it, expecting Gold to use all the resources at his disposal to fight the charges.

“So why didn’t he?” Emma asked Graham.

“Once his wife found out what he’d been doing, she threatened to leave him if he didn’t confess everything and accept the consequences, no strings attached,” he replied.

“Wow.” Emma gave a low whistle. “I think I like this woman.”

When Gold was sentenced to life imprisonment with no possibility of parole—the district attorney could smell blood in the water and pushed for the maximum sentence—Emma was in the courtroom to witness it. She had testified before the grand jury, coolly recounting what she had witnessed in the gallery with her eyes on Gold the whole time, unflinching even under his icy, furious glare. She thought about Killian and how his staunch support had helped her through the worst of her trauma, had brought her to this place where she could stand strong, look evil in the eye and see justice done.

You’re a tough lass, he’d said, and she was determined to live up to that.

As the judge’s gavel fell, Emma was filled with a deep, primal satisfaction, and when Gold turned as he was being led away and his eyes found hers in the crowd, she couldn’t resist a smirk. This time at least there would be no escape from that justice. Not for Robert Gold.

Killian wasn’t at the grand jury or the sentencing. She hadn’t really expected him to be, of course, but still she’d hoped… she’d hoped.

Days passed and then weeks, weeks Emma thought would dull the ache in her chest and soothe away the itch beneath her skin, the one that urged her just to call him. But the time only weighed more heavily the longer it stretched, and with each day that went by the itch to call him grew both stronger and easier to resist. She knew his number, of course, and of course he must know she did. If he wanted to hear from her he would have said so. He would have left a message with Graham, or called her his damn self. She knew that he must have her number too.

She went back to work, back to chasing criminals and deadbeats. The old thrill she felt at catching them was undiminished, but every time one spat at her or called her a cunt she couldn’t help remembering Killian when he’d been in their shoes, the challenge of sparring with him and how exhilarating it was, even when she’d hated him.

Killian was rarely far from her thoughts. She thought of him when she was bored on stakeouts and found herself wishing for a book, when she ate a piece of the fruit she now found herself buying and when she put cinnamon creamer in her coffee. She thought of him when she slipped her fingers between her legs at night and when she cried herself to sleep afterwards.

She thought of Killian every time she didn’t ask Graham if he’d heard from him, every time she resisted the urge to drive past his house and every time she bought a new romance novel, because damn it she was hooked on them now and she wasn’t giving them up just because every one reminded her of how damned much she missed Killian Jones.

Feel what you’re feeling, Killian had said to her. It’s the only way to heal.

Emma had a lot of un-felt feelings—more than a decade of them, from as far back as the day she’d refused to hold her baby though his newborn wails tore at her heart. She’d refused to feel the loss of her son or of his father, refused to mourn Neal or acknowledge the traces of love she still had for him. Refused to let anyone else get close enough to make her feel—until Killian smashed through the walls she’d built around her heart without even trying, catching her off guard with kindness and bone-deep decency from the last person on Earth she’d expected to show either.

It made her wonder if she might have misjudged other people in her life and if maybe, possibly, letting some of those people in might not be so bad. As much as missing Killian hurt—and it hurt, with an agony that sank its claws into the very deepest depths of her—she couldn’t regret the time she’d spent with him. And maybe, she thought, possibly, that was what he’d meant by healing. Feeling her feelings didn’t lessen the pain of them, but it gave her the tools she needed to manage it.

She felt guilty for giving up her baby. She felt stupid for letting Neal manipulate her but still sorry he’d died in the jail cell she’d put him in, sorry she’d never told him about their son. She felt angry at her own parents for abandoning her, and not even properly—not given her up for adoption just tossed her on the side of the road like a piece of trash. She felt weak for how hurt that made her feel and how worthless, and she felt angry at the system that allowed her to fall through the cracks of it, angry at a society that forced her to become hard just to hold on to herself.

She felt. And then she began to heal.

A month after the sentencing an envelope arrived in Emma’s mailbox. A plain manila one without much in the way of identifying markings but thick and heavy. She tossed it onto her kitchen table with the rest of the bills and junk and then promptly forgot about it, her mind all on the deadbeat father she was hunting—the one who owed over $80,000 in alimony and child support to his two ex-wives and the five kids they had between them—and there were few people Emma relished nailing more than a shitty-ass parent.

When she got home that night it was late and she was tired, looking forward to some Chinese takeout or maybe just instant ramen and her bed. She tossed her keys at the table where they missed the little bowl she kept there to hold them, landing instead on the envelope. Emma frowned at it as she retrieved them, and after depositing them firmly in the bowl picked up the envelope and examined it. The postmark was local but there was no return address, no company name or any other information about the sender.

Graham would tell her not to touch it. But even if there were any associates of Gold’s still lurking out there seeking revenge on her, Emma figured they’d just shoot her and not send mysterious envelopes through the mail. She sat down at the table and ripped it open, and instantly she was wide awake.

Within the envelope were records, financial ones, page upon page of them. Business records, bank accounts, tax documents. All in the name of Killian Jones, and each one helpfully annotated with notes and arrows and little diagrams, so that even her inexpert eye could recognise the picture that they painted.

Emma stared at them in shock. This was everything she had spent months looking for, the hidden money that lay behind his legitimate businesses. Offshore accounts, shell corporations, all so skilfully concealed that she could never have hoped to uncover them. This was what he had refused to tell her about at the cabin.

The papers wrinkled beneath the pressure of her fingers as she realised what this meant. Killian had given her every scrap of evidence the police would need to pursue charges against him. She could take it to them now and he would be arrested, and she knew that if she chose to do that he would go quietly, with no complaints and no resentment against her. He wouldn’t try to run or use clever lawyers and legal tricks to escape the consequences. She could send him to jail, where they both knew he belonged.

Or she could… not.

Something at the bottom of the stack of papers caught her eye—another, slightly smaller envelope. Emma opened it somewhat warily and stared again, this time in astonishment. Inside were more documents but these ones contained no evidence of crime; very much the opposite, in fact. One of them gave details of a foundation that had been set up to provide free shelter, counselling, and legal services to help teenagers escape abusive homes, while another described a college scholarship fund for kids in the foster system. This included money for tutoring, application advice, and SAT/ACT prep courses that would put the foster kids on a more equal footing with wealthier ones whose parents could afford such things.

There were others too, women’s shelters and free clinics, and Emma wondered how the hell Killian had managed to pay for all of this. He was rich, sure, but most of his assets were tied up in his businesses; this level of investment was well beyond what he could afford on what he had that was legal and liquid.

Her answer came in the last document in the pile. Short and straightforward, it outlined the liquidation of every single thing he owned that wasn’t strictly aboveboard, and how that money had been funnelled into the charities he’d set up. Millions of dollars, just given away, leaving him with a decent income from his remaining concerns but nothing at all like the wealth he’d had before. And it was done so neatly, Emma realised, all but tied up with a pretty red bow. The charities were funded with money that was sparkling clean, laundered so well it would take experts years to sort out how he’d done it. She could still turn him in using the other evidence he’d given her, without endangering any of the good things he’d done with his dirty money.

Killian had placed his fate entirely in her hands.

Emma laid the papers down on the table, let her head fall into those hands and sobbed. Her emotions, wild and confused for so long now, resolved themselves, solidified and crystallised into one shining and inescapable certainty. She was in love, for the second time in her life, and once again with a man on the wrong side of the law. It was history repeating itself, the one thing she’d sought to protect her heart against, but with two crucial differences: Killian was not Neal, and this time her eyes were wide fucking open.

“William Smee?”

The little man appeared at the railing of his boat, smiling much less nervously than at their first meeting and wearing a red knit cap that struck Emma as oddly whimsical. “Miss Swan, is it?” he called.

“Yes.”

“Come aboard.”

It hadn’t taken long to find him. The owner of the boat Killian had borrowed was indeed one of his employees—his, never Pan’s. Though it seemed that Smee had once worked for Gold, until he’d messed up a job and nearly lost his life for it, until Killian had given him a reason to take on a different kind of employment.

People who owe me considerable debts and loyalty, he’d said, and he’d said the man’s name as well, loudly and clearly enunciated and within her hearing.

Emma climbed up to the deck to find Smee waiting for her, still smiling, his expression polite and expectant.

“How can I help you ma’am?” he asked.

I’m pretty sure you know how, Emma thought, but she stated the obvious anyway. “I need you to tell me how to find the place where Killian moors his boat,” she said. “When he needs a bit of an escape.”

Smee’s smile widened. “I’ll do you one better,” he said. “I’ll take you there.”

Killian’s boat was there at the pier when they arrived, long and sleek and very unoccupied. Smee moored his own next to it, then turned to Emma with another smile and a proffered hand.

“Is there anything more I can do for you, ma’am?” he asked.

Emma took his hand and shook it firmly. “Nope, I can take it from here. But thank you.”

“My pleasure,” said Smee, and handed her a life vest. “Take this too,” he advised. “Or Mr Jones will have my head.”

Emma strapped the vest on securely before boarding the motorboat that was just where she expected to find it, though somewhat cleaner and with a newer engine than she recalled. It started up with a rumbling purr and Emma gripped the tiller carefully, steering the boat in a wide arc, less smoothly than Killian had but then she’d only done this once before—in an old boat belonging to August’s boyfriend’s cousin and for no longer than it took to master the basics.

She aimed the boat as best she could for where she thought the river was, altering her course twice before she found it then nearly running aground on its narrow banks. But she stayed afloat and soon found herself emerging into the lake, rounding its curve and heading for the pier, pulling the motorboat up with what she thought was impressive smoothness and securing it to the piling, right next to another motorboat of a similar style.

It took her a good fifteen minutes to locate the mouth of the stream, but once she had and had followed it a little ways up the mountain she spotted a Jeep parked along its banks. A newer model than Killian’s and in a different shade of green, but the keys were beneath the visor and Emma felt no trace of surprise at finding them there.

She was better at driving cars than boats and it wasn’t hard to follow the path of the stream, a path she remembered quite well from her trip down it several months before. Soon she spotted the cottage off to her right and turned away from the stream, navigating carefully through the trees and into the little clearing.

She got out of the Jeep and retrieved a large duffel bag from the back, withdrew from that the large manila envelope and a Zippo lighter and headed for the fire pit. Selecting a few from Killian’s store of seasoned logs, she arranged them in the pit as she had seen him do, tucking dry twigs in around them for kindling but adding no tinder. Instead she held the lighter to a corner of the envelope and watched it catch, watched the flames lick up and spread across it, devouring the papers inside. She held it up to the twigs until they caught fire then nestled it beneath them and the logs and watched the flames grow, leaping high in the air, the sparks rising up to meet the streaks of sunset just visible through the trees.

“I hope you meant to do that, love, because I don’t have any other copies,” said a voice behind her, and though she was expecting it, waiting for it, longing for it, she still gave a little start at the sound. “Do you?”

Emma turned, her heart in her throat, to see Killian standing just to the side of the porch, watching her with soft eyes and a heartbreaking smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she retorted.

His smile widened. “I definitely would.”

Her feet carried her towards him, around the pit and across the small distance that separated them, then launched her into his arms. “No other copies,” she said. “Though I kept the papers in the smaller envelope. All of them but one.”

He stroked her cheek, fingers tangling in her hair. “Emma, I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“For what?”

“Leaving you like that, at the station. I just—I couldn’t—”

“You had things you needed to do,” she said. “And so did I. But we’ve done them now, right?”

“Yes,” he said fiercely. “I swear to you, I—”

“I believe you,” she interrupted. “I trust you.”

He made a strangled noise, his eyes blazing with joy and awe and wonder. “You do?” he croaked.

“Yeah.” She smiled softly. “And I love you.”

“Bloody hell.” He pulled her closer, too roughly, his arms too tight around her, and buried his face in her hair. “I love you so much, Emma,” he whispered hoarsely. “But I wasn’t sure—I didn’t know—”

“Shhh,” she soothed, stroking his head until he relaxed and loosened his hold on her, pulling back to wipe his eyes.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said. “Even after… after everything, I wasn’t sure you could take the risk. It’s been—well, it’s not been an easy past few weeks. Months, really.”

“For me either,” she agreed. “But we both needed it, I think. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking actually and there’s so much I need to tell you. But first…” She draped her arms around his neck and gave him a saucy grin.

“Mmmm?” he murmured, nuzzling at her cheek. “First what?”

“First I’ve got a duffel bag full of marshmallows and chocolate and you, Killian Jones, are going to make a s’more. And eat it.”

His chuckle sounded low in her ear, the voice that followed it light and happy. “For you, my love? Anything.”

“Good,” said Emma, and kissed him.

—

@thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @kmomof4 @mariakov81 @katie-dub@spartanguard @darkcolinodonorgasm @courtorderedcake @squidvisious @cluttermind @teamhook @lfh1226-linda @shireness-says @stahlop

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan #captain swan ff #enemies to lovers #finally at the lovers bit #okay it's still a bit angsty #not sorry about that tho #gotta earn that happy ending #the bend of the arc #profdanglaisstuff

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nazyalenskyism · 4 years

Text

Can’t Fall in Love Tonight

Description: A modern Zoyalai political AU. Nikolai is running for office and Zoya is has been his right-hand woman since University. Feelings are finally realized and Zoyalai banter.

A/N: Just Zoya and Nikolai being Zoya and Nikolai. I hope you enjoy, as always any feedback would be lovely, and the first chapter is under the cut.

Ao3: Can’t Fall in Love Tonight

updated: Here are the links to chapter 2 and the final chapter, chapter 3!

Ao3 :Chapter 2

Ao3: Chapter 3

“That’s unacceptable and you know it, don’t you?”

“Y-yes ma’am.”

Zoya resisted the urge to roll her eyes, dear lord, each new batch of interns was worse than the last. They had no backbone whatsoever, and when did it become part of her job to help them develop one? “So, if you know the criteria for all reports submitted to me, why didn’t you check with your supervisor that it had been done correctly? Why would you bring it to me without being sure?”

“I-- I’m so sorry Ms.Nazyalensky, it won’t happen again.”

She nodded curtly, “see to it that it doesn’t. We run a big campaign, and we can’t afford to have little things like this slow down the cogs of the machine. Double check all the requirements next time, because if you don't, there won't be any more chances, nor will you ever find a job with any political campaign again.” The kid, Paul-- no--Patrick, stared at her, his mouth wobbling, trying to find a reply. She’d given him another chance, why was he still standing there, acting like she’d already fired him? She opened her mouth, about to tell him to run back to his station when she noticed glinting gold out of the corner of her eye. Fantastic. The gallant hero riding in to save the poor intern from the stormy harpy. She knew the names they called her, and she didn't care in the least. There was a reason she had her job, and that was because she was the best, not because she was the nicest.

“What Nazyalenksy means to say is that we constantly have to be updated with new incoming information that the format that you learned on your first day was created to save as much time as possible while conveying the information easily. Each individual on the staff has a significant role to play, something that seems as trivial as a document’s format has a big impact on the entire campaign. Your job is as important as mine, Pavel.”

A hand clapped down on the young man’s shoulder as he replied, “really?” in an awed voice, mouth agape. Zoya fought to keep her composure again, these interns were always ready to bow down in front of their boss as if he were a king and they were mere subjects. A few words from Nikolai, a charming smile thrown their way and they were basically genuflecting.

“Well, that’s not entirely true, I suppose. I do have to stand around and look dashing, the most difficult of my daily tasks,” the man said good-naturedly. This was typical Nikolai, when he was in front of the lower level employees, he was a commanding and kind boss. When he was before his biggest donors, he was a charming young man, telling lively stories about his time in university, his world adventures, how he’d sailed around the world in two years, anything that would ensure their support. Pavel stood rooted to the spot, this was clearly the first encounter he’d had with the Nikolai Lantsov, and he looked like he was close to passing out.

“Run along now, Peter, and remember what I said.” The boy hurried away, too scared to tell her she’d called him by the wrong name, turning his head back to catch one last glimpse at Nikolai, paling as Nikolai raised a hand waving goodbye.

“His name was Pavel, and you didn’t have to instill the fear of Zoya into him for his mistake,” Nikolai said, turning his head towards her.

Zoya shrugged a shoulder noncommittally, “now he’ll never make the same mistake again. Where are we finding these new recruits, I swear we weren’t this incompetent when we did this.”

“You, incompetent? Those words don’t belong together in a sentence at all.”

“What about, Zoya’s unparalled talents save her incompetent candidate, Nikolai Lantsov from defeat yet again?” At that, Zoya saw slight tension creep into Nikolai’s stance. She sighed, they really couldn’t go more than an hour without yet another issue springing up, could they?

“Perhaps that isn’t the most fitting phrase,” Nikolai said, tone shifting from easy and relaxed to all business. “Let’s talk in my office.” As he led the way down the hall of their headquarters, Zoya saw people stick their heads out of doorways to catch a glimpse of the golden boy, eyes wide, mouths agape. Zoya didn’t miss the looks towards her as well. Regularly she was their hardass superior who tolerated nothing less than perfection, but whenever their staff saw her go into a room alone with Nikolai, they got ideas that only added to the small, but ridiculous rumors that they were ‘a thing.’ She couldn’t care less, her job was to be his campaign manager during election season, and Chief of Staff otherwise— and so nearly half of her time was spent with Nikolai, heads bent over desks, trying to solve whatever new problem they encountered. Long after everyone had wrapped for the day, they would still be at the office, or retreat to Nikolai’s lavish apartment to continue working. She always went home after these late-night sessions, and nothing remotely scandalous had ever happened between her and Nikolai, but the rumors didn’t seem to care about facts. They were close, they always had been. She wasn’t about to act differently because of a small rumor. Unless their actions would negatively impact Nikolai’s image, she didn’t care. Still, Zoya swept the hallway with a cool glare, she was still their superior, and they didn’t have time to waste watching a man walk down the hall.

By the time Zoya reached the end of the hall, Nikolai was gallantly holding the door open for her, and quickly shut it behind her. She didn’t particularly care for his office, it felt like a watered down, more palatable version of his home office, which was much more eclectic, filled with his personal hard-won treasures, not just that which looked the most interesting and professional. But she supposed, if anyone understood the importance of presentation, it was her. Her blue silk blouse with its delicate silver pearl buttons was paired with a sleek black skirt, and her usual heels were polished to perfection, not unlike Nikolai’s shining black Oxfords. “So, what is it?”

“Zoya. It’s... It’s…” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and she froze, she hadn’t seen him this phased about something in a long, long time. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good.

“Just spit it out Nikolai, whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.”

“We have reason to believe that Demidov has a new Campaign Manager.”

Zoya felt her brows draw together, “that can’t be the whole of it, who is it Lantsov?” Nikolai looked at her pointedly and Zoya understood immediately, “no. No. No. Way. In. Hell.” She felt pure hatred course through her veins. ‘Any other problem, we could deal with-- any other problem than this. Why did it have to be this?’ She drew in a deep breath. She had been preparing to face him again for years. Not just to face him, but to beat him at his own game, and she knew that she could. She had learned a lot, grown, and become a force to be reckoned with. She was ready to beat him, and this time, she would.

“Right then, what do you want our next move to be?”

Nikolai looked up at her, his brows furrowed, she was almost sure that he was going to ask her if she was alright, which was the last thing she needed to hear right now. Instead, he shook his head slightly, clearing his face of all concern before drawing out files from his desk drawer. “We have to figure out their strategy. But before that, we have to tell the team. Demidov is definitely bringing his new manager to the charity ball tonight which means we’re all going to have to play nice.”

Zoya snorted, “you can play nice Nikolai, I’ll be doing just the opposite.”

“Zoya,” he caught her wrist as she turned to stand. “All of us hate him, but we can’t do anything in public today. I promise that we will find a way to get rid of him forever, but we’re not going to do anything to jeopardize future plans today, is that clear?”

Her chest heaved, it had taken everything in herself not to let go and scream when she’d realized who Nikolai was alluding to, but she didn’t know if she could manage to do this-- to go through a 6 hour fundraiser while ‘playing nice’ with the man who had ruined all their lives. But she had a job, and that was to carry them through this election, to have Nikolai’s back, to ensure that they did what they could for the people they promised to serve, and she would not let him be the reason she didn’t fulfill her duties. She pursed her lips, nodding at Nikolai, “I won’t do anything to mess things up, but I sure as hell won’t be playing ‘nice’.”

“I would expect nothing less of you,” Nikolai said with a genuine smile, tugging gently at her wrist, “if I wanted someone who would ‘play nice’ I wouldn’t have started working with you eight years ago.”

“You didn’t start working with me, Lantsov, I started working with you. Without my intervention, you would still be in local politics.”

“Semantics dear Zoya. If I hadn’t approached you in the law library, we would have never met.”

“That’s wrong and you know it. We would’ve met when I ran for the head of the student body and beat you for the presidency. I would’ve loved to see you defeated by me. It’s fine, I guess watching you lose board game night every Friday for the last eight years is good enough.” She sat down, her wrist still in Nikolai’s grasp.

“I don’t lose every time,” Nikolai frowned childishly, and Zoya had to suppress a laugh, she knew he was trying to up her spirits before they had to relay the bad news to the others. “I always win the strategic games, like chess, but you unfairly banned them.”

Zoya leaned in, cocking her head at him, “we can’t all be boring like you Lantsov. What’s the point of a game night if half the group falls asleep by 9 PM?”

Nikolai leaned in as well, “it’s not my fault none of you are worthy competitors, if you--” he was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door, causing Zoya to pull away sharply, yanking her wrist from him. Nikolai shot her an unreadable look before inhaling deeply, “yes?”

“Mister Lantsov, I have Ms. Safin, Mr. Kostyk, Mr. Yul-Bataar and Ms. Kir-Bataar here, like you asked.”

Nikolai and Zoya shared a look, this was it then. “Let them in.”

---

“Zoya, come on, we’re going to be late unless we leave right now,” Nikolai glanced at his watch, the charity event started in 40 minutes and with the traffic it would definitely take them at least half an hour to get there.

“I’m coming!” Zoya’s voice drifted down from the upstairs floor of his apartment. Zoya lived in a cozy apartment in Hell’s Kitchen that she had shared with Genya and Tamar, but when Tamar had started getting serious with Nadia, she’d moved in with the girl and they’d gotten married shortly after. Now, Genya and David were newly engaged, which meant that David was always over, and so Zoya was spending more time at his place, because as she liked to say, “if I have to sit through one more dinner where it’s just the two of them goggling at each other the entire night, I’ll take out their eyes myself.” After they’d broken the news to the rest of their inner circle, Zoya had asked if she could get ready at his apartment, and when he’d said yes, had gone home immediately to grab her things. He knew she felt unreasonably guilty, that she felt like she’d betrayed her friends by allowing Demidov to hire him, even though she’d had no way to stop it from happening. He knew she didn’t want to have to face Genya alone immediately after they had told her, and he knew that was why she’d sought refuge in his apartment for a few hours before the party. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault, that she couldn’t change the past, only work with him to better things in the future, but these were things she already knew, and she relied on him to help her to move forward, not tell her what she already knew.

Nikolai looked at his watch again, now they were actually about to be late, “Time to go! Where are you Zo—” Nikolai felt his breath skip. While he’d been distracted, Zoya had begun to descend the stairs, looking ethereal in a silky emerald green dress, her hair loose, tumbling in ink black waves over her shoulders. He felt a bit like a school boy, his breath quite literally knocked from his chest for a moment. Teardrop emeralds hung from her ears, and matching clips held back portions of her hair. He thought Zoya in her favoured blue had been difficult to resist, but Zoya in green was a sight to behold on its own. Had he not been practiced in restraining himself from her beauty, he was sure he would’ve trailed behind her the whole night like a forlorn puppy.

“I’m ready, I’m ready!” She called, hurrying to the door to slip on her heels for the night. “Hold this,” she grumbled, smacking her clutch into his chest as she breezed by him.

“Ouch, you know you could be more gent--”he broke off, nearly gaping. Backless. Her dress was backless. Nikolai looked up to the heavens, it seemed less and less likely that he was going to survive tonight. He shook his head, trying to clear it so he could focus on their task for the night, although he didn’t know how he was supposed to focus on anything else when his Chief of Staff was looking like that. He sighed audibly and Zoya’s head snapped towards him as they slipped out the door.

“What, you’re not looking forward to tonight?”

“No. I am.”

“What is it then?”

“I’m just thinking about how you’ve out-dressed me again. People are going to start thinking I have no sense of style if you keep upstaging me like his,” he replied, grinning at her.

She rolled her eyes, “you’re not used to it yet, Lantsov? I’ve always been better dressed and better-looking. Maybe it’s time you up your game.”

“Oh,” he clutched his chest in mock despair, “how you wound me.” Zoya snorted at him before flouncing towards the elevator. He stared after her, he definitely would never get used to this.

---

They’d sat through the initial speeches, the extravagant dinner with its ridiculously small portions and now the dance floor had opened up and yet, they’d yet to see Demidov or the newest addition to his staff. Nikolai had convinced Zoya to dance after she’d spent the better part of the evening making sure Genya was okay, and that Nikolai spoke to all the people they needed to secure as donors, and charmed everyone who came within 5 feet of him. Now, finally he’d been granted a short reprieve in the form of a dance with his favourite harpy.

Zoya felt her pulse thrumming, her adrenaline had been high all night, and she just wanted the night to be over, the anticipation was tugging at her relentlessly. She’d agreed to a dance with Nikolai, and he looked especially the part of a prince tonight. She had to admit to that she’d had a moment of speechlessness when she’d seen him at the bottom of the stairs, the midnight black of his suit a stark contrast to his golden locks, and the gold tie pin and cufflinks he adorned highlighted the gold flecks in his hazel eyes. It was good that he looked handsome tonight, from a professional standpoint only, of course, people responded to beauty, they both knew that. She’d been around Nikolai, been his closest friend for long enough that she had made herself immune to his charms and looks. Still, she fought shivers when he placed her hand in his, the other sitting on the small of her back as he led her into a flawless waltz. As they began to gently sway to the soft string music, Zoya’s mind turned back to the issue at hand.

“Do you see him?”

“No. He’s probably waiting to make a dramatic entrance.”

“Is that what you would do?”

Nikolai hesitated, "I would never be in his position.”

“You’re right. I just wish we knew what game he was playing. Or when he’d show up.” They passed a few moments in silence, both of them drawing closer together, content in the moment, until Nikolai saw a commotion out of the corner of his eye.

“ I think your wish has been answered, Zoya dear.” Her head jolted upright just as the song ended. There, at the grand doors of the ballroom, was Demidov, looking the part as usual, and next to him stood a man dressed entirely in black.

“Here we go,” Nikolai murmured. Zoya took his arm with one hand and grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing server’s tray in the other as they crossed the floor towards the men. Nikolai found David and Tolya’s eyes from across the room and gestured towards the ballroom door. They both nodded and Nikolai watched as they found Genya, Tamar and Nadia. Good, it was best that they all got out of here. Knowing the man, he would try to goad them with mentions of their friends, and Nikolai was not in the mood tonight.

“Mr. Lantsov,” Demidov greeted them cheerfully, clasping Nikolai’s hand in a friendly handshake. “The always radiant Ms. Nazyalenksy,” he smiled, pressing his lips to her knuckles, not seeing the dangerous fire simmering behind her eyes. Only her true friends would ever be able to see how irritated she was by a man she deemed as, ‘having a backbone made of butterscotch pudding.’ He wasn’t fully aware what that meant, but Genya, Nadia and Tolya had agreed serenely when she’d first said it, so he supposed it must make sense.

“Please, allow me to introduce you to my new campaign manager! This is--”

“Aleks!” Nikolai exclaimed jovially, not missing the laugh in Zoya’s eyes. “My goodness, it’s been so long.”

“You know each other?” Demidov said.

“Oh yes, way back in my university days, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear that story, it’s far too long and features several ballads dedicated to my brilliance. It’s rather a production.”

“I prefer to go by ‘The Darkling’,” Aleksander interjected coolly, inclining his head at Nikolai in acknowledgement, and resting his eyes on Zoya.

“Oh,” Zoya started, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing any true emotion on her face. She brought a finger to her chin in mock-contemplation, though no one other than Nikolai and the Darkling would know it. “That’s a strange name, is it French?”

“No, no. Zoya, I speak French, and whatever it is, it’s not French. Maybe it’s Russian?” Nikolai returned, looking thoughtful. Saints, he was a frighteningly good actor.

She shrugged, “funny, I’m fluent and I've never heard that before.”

“Is it not English, Aleksander?” Demidov questioned, clearly puzzled.

The Darkling ignored them all. Instead he turned to Zoya, “Ms. Nazyalenksy, would you honour me with a dance?”

“No.” Zoya enunciated clearly, looking directly at him. Nikolai laid a hand on her arm, a small reminder of their larger plan. His phone buzzed in his lapel pocket, and he glanced at it quickly, a message from Tamar, perfectly on time.

“If you’ll excuse us, we have to take this,” Nikolai said holding up his phone, placing his hand on Zoya’s back, letting her know they were escaping this situation. Demidov nodded a goodbye as Zoya took a final sip from her glass.

“It was so nice to meet you, Alexi!” she laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder, clearly dismissing him as if she were a queen and he were a mere peasant.

“Goodnight, enjoy the festivities Aleks,” Nikolai added, nothing but a polite smile on his face as they turned and started towards a sheltered alcove in the corner of the room.

---

Zoya paced back and forth, “I hate everything about this— how could anyone even think to hire him after what he did?” Nikolai frowned, there was a note of desperation in her voice, very unlike Zoya. He knew the crimes of the man as well as the rest of his inner circle, they had all been directly impacted by him, but he knew that Zoya had never forgiven herself for being young, taken in by his seemingly perfect ideology and being unable to see the rot that lay beneath it all. Others who were older, and arguably wiser had been fooled just as easily as they all had, yet Zoya wouldn’t forgive herself, she held herself to a higher standard, he knew what that was like better than anyone else. The reason he’d told her before he’d broken the news to the rest of his staff was because of this, he knew that neither him nor Zoya would ever let that man inflict anymore hurt upon their friends.

“He did a lot to bury his crimes, only a few people truly know what happened. The general public views them as allegations, not definitive crimes.”

“Why? They’ve seen the evidence.” Zoya snapped, “they can see it every day.” He could see that she was a tightly wound coil after the news and that she needed a distraction.

“Shall we share another dance?”

“What?” she snapped, “Nikolai, I’m not in the mood.”

“Whatever you say, Nazyalensky, but if you don’t dance with me, I’m 98% sure he’s going to ask you to dance next,” he said nodding towards Kirigin, one of many men who constantly trailed them at functions like this in an attempt to catch Zoya’s attention for a second.

“Oh god, my options are you and Kirigin?” Zoya rubbed her temples, as much as she wanted to go home and finish a bottle of wine on her own, she knew they had to stay until the party was over. “Fine. Lead the way Lantsov, but I will be stepping on your toes.”

“I would expect nothing less from you, my ruthless Zoya.”

#zoyalai #zoyalai fic #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #kos fic #kos au #zoyalai au

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